A RIDE AFTER THE INDIANS.
When father and I reached home we found our fellows there, and also Mr.
Todd and Mr. Dickson, who had come over to spend the evening.
The events of the afternoon had already been thoroughly discussed, but
the matter was taken up again when we arrived, and after that the mare’s
mysterious disappearance was the chief subject of conversation.
One thing that not a little surprised us, was the coolness, not to say
indifference, with which father and his two gentleman friends spoke of
the loss I had sustained.
Our fellows went in strong for raising a hue and cry, and making the
swamp too hot to hold the thief; but the men shook their heads and said
they thought that wouldn’t do. They had tried that in the case of Luke
Redman, and what had it amounted to?
The best thing we could do would be to keep our eyes open and our mouths
closed, and perhaps in a few days something would turn up in our favor.
At ten o’clock the two gentlemen took their leave, and our fellows went
up to bed.
“Now, I’ll jest tell you what’s the matter with me,” said Sandy, when he
had settled himself snugly between the sheets. "My name hain’t Micawber,
and that’s the reason I don’t believe in waitin’ fur things to ‘turn
up.’ I’ll tell you what we’ll do, fellers. If the men won’t help us,
we’ll help ourselves. We’ll let our dinner go this once, take to the
woods at daybreak, and spend Christmas in lookin’ fur that thar hoss,
eh?"
Sandy could not have made a proposition that would have suited me
better, or the rest of the fellows either, judging by the readiness with
which they agreed to it.
The matter was settled without much debate, and then we arranged our
pillows, and prepared to go to sleep. We did sleep, but not long. There
was more excitement in store for us. About two o’clock our cotton-gin
was set on fire.
I need not stop to tell you how frightened I was when my brother dragged
me out of bed and shouted in my ear that the plantation was burning up;
how I looked out of the window as I pulled on my clothes, and saw the
gin wrapped in flames; how our fellows rushed out of the house, and,
after bustling about for a while in a state of intense excitement,
getting in every body’s way, and accomplishing nothing, stood quietly by
my father’s side, and saw twelve thousand dollars’ worth of cotton
consumed; how we wondered and made wild guesses as to who the incendiary
could be; and finally went back to bed, and lay for a long time talking
the matter over. You can imagine all that, and will know just how we
felt.
Excited as I was, I fell asleep again, but was awakened about daylight
by the sound of horses’ hoofs in the yard. I ran to the window, and saw
several mounted men waiting before the door. They were all booted and
spurred, and some carried guns slung over their shoulders, while others
had revolvers strapped about their waists.
A negro stood by, holding a splendid coal-black horse which belonged to
father, and presently he came out of the house, armed like the others,
sprang into the saddle, and the whole cavalcade started down the road at
a rapid gallop.
I caught my sleeping companions by the shoulders, and, after a good deal
of shaking and pulling, succeeded in getting them out of bed and to the
window, just in time to catch one glimpse of the horsemen before they
disappeared down a lane that led to the woods.
“Now I’ll jest tell you what’s the matter,” exclaimed Sandy. “What’s up,
do you reckon?”
“They’ve gone out to look for the men who set fire to that cotton-gin,”
replied Duke, fairly jumping into his trowsers. “That’s what’s up, and
here we are in bed and sound asleep, like so many wooden boys.”
“Hurrah!” yelled Mark. “Here’s fun! I’d give something to know what else
is going to happen this winter.”
As he said this, he jerked on his boots, thrust one arm into his coat,
and started down stairs to talk to mother, and find out what it was that
had taken father and his companions off in so great a hurry, while the
rest of us brought out the guns, and began loading them with hands that
trembled violently. We could not have been more impatient to get the
weapons ready for use if a band of hostile Indians had at that very
moment been approaching the house.
“I am going to put twelve buckshot in my gun,” said Herbert, “and if I
meet the fellow who set fire to that gin, won’t I—won’t I wake him, eh?”
“How will you know him if you do meet him?” asked Duke, spilling a
charge of powder on the floor in his haste.
“Why, he will look guilty, won’t he? Well, what’s the matter?”
This last question was addressed to Mark, who just then came up stairs
in two jumps.
“Mother says there are moccasin-tracks all around that gin,” said he, so
excited that he could scarcely speak plainly, “and that shows that it
was set on fire by the Indians. It was done by some of those worthless
half-breeds—probably by the same one with whom I had that fuss the other
day.”
All our fellows thought that Mark’s idea of the matter was the correct
one.
This half-breed—Pete, he called himself—and a half dozen others, who
were as bad as he was, had held a grudge against father for more than a
year, and we had been expecting something of this kind. More than that,
our gin was not the only one that had been burned during the last six
months.
The guilty parties, whoever they were, had always escaped detection, but
as Pete and his crowd had had some trouble with nearly every one in the
settlement, the planters had suddenly taken it into their heads that
they were the ones who had been doing all the mischief, and were
resolved that they should no longer go unpunished.
“Mother says that before noon there will be a hundred men in the
cane-brakes,” panted Mark. “Hurry up, fellows, or we shall miss all the
sport. We don’t want any breakfast, do we?”
“No!” we all shouted.
“I couldn’t eat a mouthful if I should try,” said Herbert, seizing his
gloves and riding-whip. “Say, boys, wouldn’t it be a glorious thing for
us if we could capture the incendiaries all by ourselves without any
help from the planters?”
Oh, wouldn’t that be an exploit worth boasting of? Only let us have the
opportunity, and see how quick we would attempt it!
We thought we knew right where to go to find the Indians. Most likely
they were encamped on Deer Lake, about fifteen miles from the
plantation.
We would go down there, dash into their camp like a squad of cavalry on
the charge, and if we found that rascally Pete there, four of us would
cover him with our guns; Sandy, being the largest and strongest in the
party, would dismount and tie his hands behind his back; and we would
bring him home with us, whether he was willing to come or not.
It would all be done before the Indians knew what was going on, and if
they pursued us, or attempted to rescue Pete, we would keep them
straight by pointing our guns at them.
Wasn’t that a glorious plan? and wouldn’t father and all the rest of the
planters be astonished when they saw us and our captive?
We talked the matter over while we were dressing, and as soon as we were
ready for the start, slung our guns over our shoulders, and dashed down
the stairs like a lot of wild boys.
In the kitchen we met mother.
Now, according to my way of thinking, my mother was a model woman. She
understood the nature of boys perfectly. She gave Mark and me all the
privileges we deserved, and could not have sympathized with us more
fully, or taken a deeper interest in our sports and pastimes, if she had
been a boy herself.
She knew that we could not possibly stop to eat any breakfast while
there was any thing exciting in prospect, and when we entered the
kitchen, she handed us each a sandwich and a glass of milk.
“Now, boys,” said she, “don’t run any risks.”
“No, ma’am,” we replied.
“Don’t try to accomplish any thing by yourselves,” she continued—and
when she said that we looked at one another and frowned fiercely. “What
could five boys like you do with a lot of savage half-breeds? Find the
men as soon as possible, and remain with them; and if you don’t succeed
in finding them, come home.”
Now, how do you suppose mother knew that we had made up our minds to
hunt those Indians on our own hook? We hadn’t lisped a word of it to
her; but then she knew all about boys, and perhaps she saw it in our
faces.
We were greatly disappointed, but we promised obedience and hurried to
the door. We found our negro waiting for us (the hostler had brought out
mother’s horse for me to ride), and in less time than it takes to tell
it we were in our saddles and galloping furiously down the road,
devouring our sandwiches as we went.
I do not believe those five horses ever traveled so rapidly before. They
went along at a rattling pace, tossing their heads and snorting as if
they enjoyed the rapid motion as much as we did, while we strained our
eyes down the road in front of us, and looked into all the lanes we
passed, in the hope of discovering father and his party.
But the fleet horses on which they were mounted had carried them a long
distance ahead of us, and finally, after a ride of an hour and a half,
we drew rein on the shore of Deer Lake, covered with mud from head to
foot, and much disappointed.
The Indians were not there, and neither was father. We ran our eyes all
around the lake, and the only living things we could see were flocks of
ducks and geese swimming about near the opposite shore.
We rode along the beach a short distance and then Duke led us down a
bridle-path that ran back toward the plantation.
About two o’clock in the afternoon, having visited all the places at
which we thought we should be likely to find father and his party, we
stopped on the banks of a bayou to allow our horses a few minutes’ rest,
and to decide what we should do next.
“Now, I’ll jest tell you what’s the matter with me,” said Sandy,
suddenly. “It’s hard work ridin’ or talkin’ on an empty stomach, an’ I
suggest that we have a bite to eat.”
“That’s the idea,” said Herbert, “and I wonder we did not think of it
before. If we were at the lake now, it wouldn’t take us long to bag
ducks enough for a good dinner.”
“Oh, squirrels will do just as well,” replied Duke. “There are plenty of
them about here, and, Joe, if you and Sandy will go out and shoot some,
the rest of us will build a fire and get every thing ready. If you
fellows are as hungry as I am, we shall want about ten. I can dispose of
two, I know.”
So could I, and more, for that matter. I was as hungry as a wolf, and if
there was any thing I enjoyed in my boyhood’s days, it was a dinner in
the woods as Mark used to serve it up. He could not cook at all in a
house over a stove; but take him out in the cane-brakes, and give him a
good fire, a forked stick and a wild duck or some squirrels, and in a
few minutes he would have ready a dinner that would tempt an epicure.
To get up a “hotel dinner,” as he called it, he needed a few crackers or
biscuit, and a little pepper and salt for seasoning. An ear of green
corn, fresh pulled from the field, and roasted in the shuck under his
supervision, and served up on a piece of beech bark, answered all the
purposes of a dessert, and tasted much better than any pie or pudding I
ever ate at a table.
On this occasion, however, he had neither crackers, pepper nor salt, and
it was too late in the season for roasting-ears; but, as Duke had said,
the squirrels were plenty, and I grew hungrier than ever when I thought
what a feast Mark would have ready for us in about half an hour.
It having been decided that we should stop there and eat our dinner, we
all dismounted, and after relieving our horses of the saddles and tying
the animals to the trees near the place where we intended to make our
camp, Sandy and I shouldered our guns and set out in different
directions to hunt up the squirrels.
I walked down the bank of the bayou, and, before I had gone a hundred
yards from the camp, brought a squirrel out of the top of a hickory.
Shortly afterward, I heard the report of Sandy’s gun, and as he never
missed his mark, I knew we had two of the ten squirrels we wanted.
A little further on another was added to my bunch, and while I was
hurrying forward to secure it, an incident happened that brought the
hunt to a speedy termination.
The squirrel had fallen at the foot of a huge oak, but, being only
wounded, started to climb the tree. I ran around after him, and just
then something stirred the bushes close in front of me.
Before I could stop to see what it was, a pair of strong arms were
thrown around me, my feet were tripped up, and in an instant more I was
lying flat on my back, with a heavy weight on top of me holding me down.
As soon as I had in some measure recovered myself, I looked up into the
dark, scowling face that was bending over me, and recognized Pete, the
half-breed.
Things were not working exactly as our fellows had anticipated. While we
were looking for Pete, he had all the while been looking for us; and he
had found one of us, too, before we knew that he was about.
Almost involuntarily my hand moved toward the hunting-horn that hung at
my side. One short, quick blast on that, had I been permitted to give
it, would have put things right again in a hurry. Our fellows would have
appeared as quickly as their horses could have brought them, and one
glance at the double-barrels pointed straight at his head, would, I am
confident, have driven away the fierce scowl and brought an altogether
different expression to Pete’s copper-colored face. But Pete knew
something about hunting-horns, and was too wise to allow me time to make
any signals.
With a quick movement he tore the horn from my grasp, and in a second
more he had removed the belt which contained my hunting-knife and
secured possession of my gun.
I struggled fruitlessly in his strong grasp, and, as soon as I could
find my tongue, exclaimed:
“You have already done more mischief than you will care to stand
punishment for; and if you know when you are well off, you will release
me at once. What do you mean, anyhow?”
“You put dogs on Injun the other day,” replied Pete, in his broken
English, which I could not imitate on paper if I should try. “I pay you
for that now!”
These words afforded me a perfectly satisfactory explanation of the
situation. I was to be punished for something Mark had done; for, as you
know, it was he and not I who put the hounds on the Indian.
I knew it would be of no use for me to deny the charge, for Pete had
been acquainted with me for more than a year, and if he had not learned
in that time to tell Mark and me apart, it was not at all likely that he
would place any dependence on my word.
There was but one thing I could do, and that was to submit to whatever
was in store for me, trusting to my friends to get me out of this
disagreeable scrape. My only hope was that they would become alarmed at
my absence, and rescue me in time to save me from the vengeance which I
knew Pete intended to wreak upon me.
Having disarmed me, Pete seized me by the collar, pulled me to my feet,
and then I found that he was not alone. Another villainous looking
half-breed, whose name was Jake, glided up at this moment, and, without
saying a word, seized me by one arm, while Pete took hold of the other,
and between them I was dragged rather than led to the bayou, where I
found a canoe partly drawn out upon the bank.
In obedience to Pete’s command, I was about to step into the boat, when
suddenly the blast of a hunting-horn—Duke’s horn, I could have told it
among a thousand—echoed through the swamp, followed shortly afterward by
the roar of a gun.
“Ugh!” grunted Pete and his companion, in concert.
They stopped on the bank, and stood perfectly motionless with surprise,
while I clambered into the canoe, and looked up the bayou in the
direction from which the report sounded, to discover what was going on;
but there was a bend just above me, and I could see nothing.
A moment’s silence followed the roar of the gun, and then came the
clatter of a horse’s hoofs, a splashing in the water, a violent
commotion among the cane on the opposite bank of the bayou, and
presently, to my utter amazement, I saw—what do you suppose? It was
something that caused me to forget the Indians and every thing else
about me, and to make me determine to escape, or die in the attempt.
Without an instant’s hesitation, I clasped my hands above my head, and
dived out of sight in the bayou.