land here in the Forks and had seen what Tanacharison had seen long
ago――that it was the best place for a house with big guns.
“It lies high and level,” said Washington, “and commands the two rivers
and the entrance to the Ohio. By the Monongahela we could travel to
and from the Virginia outposts in the south, and no one from the north
could pass out of the Allegheny.”
“Yah, it iss the proper meelitary situation,” said the red-nosed man.
“Dere iss no better.”
“The spot where I was told to start a fort for the Ohio Company is
yonder across the Monongahela, and two miles down the Ohio,” said Gist.
“That’s where old Shingis of the Delawares lives, on the south bank. Do
you wish to stop and see him, major?”
“Yes, we’ll stop and invite him to our council at Logstown,” replied
Washington.
“How stands Shingis now? Is he friendly to the English?” asked John
Davidson, in the Mingo, of Robert.
“The Delawares are of two minds,” answered Robert. “They wait. If the
English are strong and give presents, Shingis will be English. If the
French are strong and give presents, Shingis will be French. Let
Washington talk with him. Who is that fat man with the red nose and the
tight shirt? Is he American?”
“Ho ho!” laughed Davidson. “What is that word――American? You see
Americans, but you see English, too. That man’s name is Jacob Vanbraam.
He is a soldier captain from another white man’s country across the big
water which they call Dutch Land. But now he is American-English. He
teaches Washington to use the big knife which in English is sword; he
speaks the French language and he goes with Washington to talk to the
French in the north. We ask Tanacharison to help us on the trail.”
“Wah!” exclaimed the Hunter. “Is Washington a chief?”
“He is a major in the army of Virginia, and commands soldiers.”
“Wah!” uttered Robert. “That is good. He is a man. Tell him I will be
a warrior under him, to fight the French. Now I go and tell Scarouady
Washington is come against the French, and to make ready.”
Then the Hunter ran for his canoe. When he shoved out, the canoe from
John Fraser’s, with two men in it, was coming in to meet Washington.
The Hunter paddled across, and got on his horse and went at a gallop,
full of news for Logstown.
First he saw Bright Lightning.
“What is it? The French?” she asked.
“It is Washington with men, for Logstown.”
“Many?”
“I saw six.”
“What can six do?” said Bright Lightning. “You are in a great hurry
about one man and five! The French have a thousand. Your Long Knives
are fools.”
The hunter next met old Juskakaka or Green Grasshopper, the principal
councillor; and almost ran into him.
“What is this?” growled Juskakaka. “You are half white and have no
manners.”
“Washington is come.”
“Where is he?”
“At Dekanawida. I saw him.”
“With men?”
“Five men.”
“Wah!” scoffed old Little Billy. “Does the Governor of Virginia sent a
boy and five men to fight the French? It is true what the French say,
that the English are blind and have no regard for the Indians.”
Next Robert found Scarouady, lying in his lodge.
“What do you want, entering a chief’s lodge this way?”
“The Americans are come. I have seen Washington.”
“How many?”
“Six, with Washington.”
“Where?”
“They are crossing the Forks, to visit King Shingis.”
“King Shingis? Don’t they know their way to the Mingo, where the head
chief of all lives?”
“They come here, too.”
“What Washington?”
“The young Washington; the same we saw.”
“Wah!” grunted Scarouady. “What does he want?”
“He will talk with Tanacharison and then he goes to the French.”
“The Governor of Virginia sent one man to the French, and he grew
afraid and ran home,” said Scarouady. “Now Assaragoa sends a boy. The
French will laugh. The Mingo do not wish boys with speech belts; they
wish men with big guns, to build a fort. But I will see this Washington
again, and if it is worth while for Tanacharison to see him, we will
send for Tanacharison.”
And――
“A boy with five men is very little,” agreed White Thunder. “Where is
the company, to build the house we asked them to build?”
Washington and the others came at sunset, down the valley; and King
Shingis was with them. The men set up a tent, while everybody watched
curiously; but John Davidson inquired where Scarouady was, and he and
Washington went to the lodge.
“Is that your Washington?” Bright Lightning asked of the Hunter.
“Yes.”
“Is he a chief?”
“He is a soldier major of the Long Knife army. The French send us only
captains.”
“Well,” said Bright Lightning, “Old Juskakaka calls him a boy, but I
can see that he is a man. The Governor of Virginia has not acted so
foolishly after all.”
Scarouady and White Thunder and Juskakaka came to Washington’s tent,
for presents of food. On the way Scarouady called to Robert.
“It is dark now, but in the morning you will go and bring Tanacharison.
Tell him Major George Washington has come from Virginia to speak with
the French, and wishes to hold council with the chiefs of the Ohio.”
Something in Scarouady’s tone told the Hunter that George Washington
had proved to be strong.
VI
BY ORDER OF THE GOVERNOR
Tanacharison’s hunting cabin was on Little Beaver Creek, fifteen miles
down the Ohio. When the Hunter found him in the morning, he was in no
hurry to meet Washington.
“Instead of sending us a principal man,” he said, “the Governor of
Virginia sends a boy without experience to talk with chiefs. I am
Half-King and wish to talk with Assaragoa himself. He rules Virginia,
and I rule my country. It is not dignified for me to run at the call
of a boy. But I will go up during the day, when I have finished my
business here.”
So it was not until the middle of the afternoon that Tanacharison
arrived in Logstown. He went to his own house, to change his clothes.
But George Washington acted sensibly. Pretty soon he came to the house
with John Davidson, who spoke Iroquois dialects, and after greeting
Tanacharison he said:
“I am arrived at Logstown from your brother the Governor of Virginia,
to talk with the Mingo, the Delaware, the Shawnee, the Wyandot. If
Tanacharison, who is Half-King, will come to my tent, we can speak
there in private away from the ears of women and children.”
Tanacharison looked Washington up and down.
“That is well said,” he answered. “You are young, but you have wisdom.
This boy may come, to be present in case I do not understand. You know
him. He is my son.”
Therefore the Hunter went with Tanacharison and Washington to
Washington’s tent, and they sat down.
“I am told,” said Washington, “that you went, yourself, to the French
chief at the Lakes, and commanded him to leave. As I am going there
too, I should like to know what your words were to him and what his
words were to you, and what the distance is, so that I may know how to
act.”
“When I went, the distance was shorter,” replied the Half-King. “You
are too late in the year to get there easily. The snows and rains have
swollen the rivers and made many great bogs. The first fort is at least
six nights’ sleeps by best travel.”
“Nevertheless, I am going,” said Washington. “Those are my orders from
the Governor.”
“Me the French insulted. You they will laugh at, and think to fool,
because you have no beard,” objected Tanacharison.
“If they think I am not worthy of notice,” Washington said quietly,
“then they will not watch me and I can look about and see what they
have.”
“Wah!” Half-King uttered. “The other man was a coward. You are no
coward. I see you will go to the French chief.”
“If my brother will tell me what he said to the French chief and what
the French chief answered, I will listen,” Washington prompted.
“The French chief treated me like a dog,” declared Tanacharison,
growing angry. “He has since died; now there is another, and what his
mind is I do not know. I went alone to see the first, who commanded
last summer. I took the speech belt of friendship left us by Captain
Joncaire. Instead of being polite and receiving me like a chief, the
Frenchman sat down while I stood and he asked me who I was and what was
my business there. I said to him:
“‘Father, a long time ago you set before the Six Nations a basin with
the leg of a beaver, and bade us eat in peace and plenty; and if any
person disturbed us, we should drive him out.’
“‘Now, father it is you who are disturbing us, by coming and building
on our lands, and taking it away.’
“‘Father,’ I said, ‘a long time ago we kindled a fire for you at a
place called Montreal, where you were to stay. I now ask you to go to
that place, for this is our land and not yours.’
“‘Father,’ I said, ‘if you had come peaceably, like our brothers the
English, you could have traded with us like they do. But to come and
build houses without our permission and take our land by force we
cannot allow.’
“‘Father,’ I said, ‘you and the English are white. We live in a country
between; the land does not belong to either of you. Now I ask you to go
out. I am saying the same to our brothers the English, and we will see
which of you will pay attention and deserve sharing with us. I am here
to say this to you, for I am not afraid to order you off our land.’
Then I handed the wampum belt to him, that he might know we were done
with him.”
“Those were good words,” Washington nodded gravely. “What did he reply?”
“He said to me, speaking very rudely: ‘My child, I do not know this
wampum with which you order me away. You need not speak, for I will not
hear you. I am not afraid of flies or mosquitoes, such as Indians are.
Down the river I will go and build upon it. If the river is blocked I
am strong enough to burst it open and tread everybody under my feet.’
“Then he threw the speech belt in my face, and he said, laughing at me:
“‘Child, you talk foolish. You say this land belongs to you, but there
is not so much as the black of your nail yours. I saw that land before
the Six Nations took it from the Shawnees. With lead I went down and
took possession of that river. It is my land and I will have it, no
matter who tries to stand against me. If you will be ruled by me you
will get kindness, but not otherwise.’
“He spoke angrily, with a red face,” Tanacharison continued. “So I took
the speech belt and came home. You had better think a while before you
go, for you will be treated with rudeness.”
“My chief the Governor of Virginia has ordered me to travel straight to
the French and give the French chief a letter,” said Washington. “There
I will go!”
“What is in the letter?” Tanacharison asked.
“It is a letter of much importance to us all,” said Washington. “And by
this string of wampum Assaragoa asks you, his brothers, for young men
who will go with me by the shortest road, and hunt for meat, and help
me against the French Indians who have taken up the hatchet.”
“All this must come before the council tomorrow,” answered Tanacharison,
“when the chiefs of the Shawnee and the Delaware will be present. But we
should like to know your business with the French chief, and what the
English intend to do. Do the English claim this land north of the
river?”
“The first thing to do is to get rid of the French,” said Washington.
“That is so,” agreed Tanacharison, growing angry again. “Now I will
show you where those French forts are.”
Then Tanacharison took a bit of charcoal from the fire, and a strip of
bark from a log, and drew pictures.
“The trail to the north is this way,” he said. “In so many sleeps,”
and he six times made the motion of drawing a blanket over his face,
“we come to this place named Venango. It stands where the River of the
Buffalo empties into the River Allegheny. The French under Captain
Joncaire have seized it. And by six more sleeps, up at the other end
of the River of the Buffalo, is the second French fort, where the head
captain lives. There is a third fort farther on, at the Lake Erie, but
you will not need to go to it, I think.”
The council with Washington was held the next morning, and much was
said. But this did not finish matters. The Mingo speech belt from the
French was down at Tanacharison’s hunting cabin. The Shawnees had a
speech belt and so had the Delawares, and these were to be thrown at
the French. Besides, the Shawnee chiefs from Sonnioto down the river
had not yet come for council; they would not arrive until after two
days.
“This cannot be done in a hurry,” the Half-King said to Washington. “I
have sent to the Shawnees, for their belt and two young men to go with
you. I have ordered Shingis to his town, to bring the Delaware belt and
two young men to go with you. When the French see that you have Mingo,
Shawnee and Delaware with you, they will know who are your friends.”
But King Shingis did not come back. He pretended that his wife was
sick, and that all his young men were out hunting. The Delaware speech
belt, he said, was up at Venango, with the Delawares there; and he sent
a string of wampum which would order the Venango Delaware chief to take
the belt on to the principal French fort.
Scarouady declared that old Shingis was afraid. The Delawares all were
suspicious yet. The Shawnees stayed away. The Wyandots said:
“Where are the presents the Ohio Company should send us, if we are to
help fight the French? If the French are driven off who will protect us
from the English?”
And the Mingos said:
“We do not know what this Washington wishes with the French. What will
the English of Virginia do? They can build a trading house with guns,
but we will not have our lands stolen from us.”
Washington had been in Logstown seven days. Then Tanacharison decided
not to wait any longer for the Shawnees and the Delawares. This night
he said to Washington:
“We will start for the French fort in the morning, two hours after
sunrise. I will go, and we will take Juskakaka to speak for us, and
White Thunder who is Keeper of the Wampum; and of all my young men I
can find only Guyasuta. But he is active and a brave warrior. Scarouady
will stay here to command in my absence.”
Then Washington said, through John Davidson:
“I hear your boy is rightly named the Hunter. He looks like a strong
boy, and I see he is a smart boy. It is well that he learn what he can,
in the company of chiefs. Let us take him to find the game.”
“Wah!” uttered Tanacharison, as if pleased. “Yes, he is a fine hunter.
There is no better. He also knows the English tongue and the French
tongue, and may be useful. We will take him.”
When Robert heard this from Christopher Gist, he, too, was pleased. He
felt warmly toward George Washington the American.
VII
ROBERT PROVES HIS VALOR
So they all set out, this morning of the day that the English called
the last day of November. There were Washington, Christopher Gist, John
Davidson the trader who spoke Mingo, the funny, fat Jacob Vanbraam
of Dutch Land who spoke French and poor English, Tanacharison the
Half-King of the Mingos, old Juskakaka the councillor, White Thunder
the Wampum Keeper, young Guyasuta or Standing Cross the first-class
warrior, Robert the Hunter and four white men to drive the pack-horses
and make camps.
The white men all rode, but the Indians marched afoot, and Robert left
his horse at Logstown. In the woods one could hunt more easily afoot
than ahorse.
That was indeed a tough journey. Venango, Tanacharison said, was sixty
miles by summer trail but was farther now, by winter trail. Already the
trees and meadows were white, and the nights were freezing cold. The
weather seemed to get angry again, as if trying to close the road for
Washington; it had been angry ever since he had started, he said.
On the day after the first camp out from Logstown the sleety rain began
to fall, and clear to Venango they scarcely glimpsed the sun or the
stars. The creeks were swollen, the trail was slippery, dry wood for
burning was hard to find.
But Washington made no complaint. At night in his tent by the light
of his smoky fire he put marks upon paper in a little book that he
carried. After talking a while and listening to stories in Mingo and
sign language by Tanacharison and old Juskakaka and White Thunder, he
and Gist and Jacob Vanbraam rolled in their blankets inside the tent.
The others slept outside under brush lean-tos covered with blankets.
“The Hunter is young. He may sleep in the tent and be warm between us,”
Washington had invited. But Tanacharison answered:
“No. The boy is of warrior age. He shall sleep like an Indian, for he
cannot carry a tent with him on the war trail. It is proper that you,
the white chief, shall keep your message safe in your lodge. We know
that you are strong.”
“If we meet with the French Indians, do we fight?” Guyasuta had asked.
“It seems to me a poor plan to lose scalps for these English when we
don’t know what is going to happen,” said old Juskakaka.
“Those are small words,” Tanacharison reproved. “Washington is not a
man to turn back. I see that. We have come to protect him and to show
him the road. The French dogs must get out of the way. The war belt has
been passed from the Mingo to Onondago of the Six Nations Council, and
if the French refuse to quit the land, there is war. Pickawillanee of
our brothers the Miami has been destroyed by the French. Already the
Miami have taken Ottawa scalps, and the Wyandot have eaten ten white
French and two French black men. If Washington fights we will fight,
and show him we are standing with him and the English.”
Those were lean marches. The rain spoiled the food in the packs and
drove the game to cover. It wet the guns and loosened Robert’s sinew
bow-string; and two deer were all that he and Guyasuta were able to
get. What were two deer among twelve men and an empty boy?
So the third evening’s camp was a hungry one. The rain had changed to
snow, and leaving early after the halt Guyasuta went one way and the
Hunter another, to find meat.
The Hunter prowled some little distance, through the snowy forest,
seeking fresh tracks or a moving animal. The snow had covered all the
old tracks and trails, the great forest seemed lifeless. Now if he only
could find a turkeys’ roost――! But he saw no turkeys in the bare trees,
and he saw no glint of deer, and he heard no sound except a squawking
jay who told the forest that a hunter was abroad. Even the squirrels
were in bed.
Then after a time he came to a large tree, with its inside hollowed
out, for it had a hole wide enough for a boy, at its base. Whether
anything had gone into that hole he could not tell, because of the
snow, but sometimes wild animals lived in such places.
At any rate, nothing had gone in recently; the new snow was unmarked.
Then he stooped, to try to see up into the hollow; he could not
see far, for the hollow was dark and extended a long way; but he
_smelt_――and the hollow smelled of warm fur.
Wah! The Hunter sprang backward, and eyed the tree. The tree was
breathing! From a knothole high up where a branch had once joined the
trunk a thin waft of vapor like steam was floating out into the cold
air. This tree was inhabited. That vapor came from live animals.
Wah! And again――Wah! Raccoons! Likely enough a family of raccoons;
and fat coons were not to be despised by hungry people. Whereupon the
Hunter went to work. He raked together the few dry leaves and the damp
leaves, in the hollow, and with flint and steel he started his smudge.
The draught took the smoke inside and up through the shell of the trunk
and it poured out of the knothole. He stood ready with a branch for a
club; there was no use in fooling with bow and arrow.
He did not have long to wait. First he heard a scratching, as though
the inhabitants of the tree were growing uncomfortable. And on a
sudden, with a plump, down dropped a big bunch of fur and rolled out;
and instead of springing with his club the Hunter jumped back, to grab
his bow and fit arrow to string. For the animal was a bear.
The bear, half-grown and fat, sat up whimpering crossly at having been
disturbed; and rubbed its eyes and muzzle with its clumsy paws. The
mark was a splendid mark; Robert drew arrow to its head――and did not
let go. Instead, he lowered his bow, and laughed.
“I will not kill you, brother,” he said. “I am hungry, but I give you
your life because your mother saved me from the Cherokee. Do not blame
me for putting smoke into your eyes. You shall go back and sleep.”
The bear was still rubbing his eyes and complaining. The Hunter stole
around him and scattered the smoking leaves.
“The way is clear, brother,” said the Hunter; and he went a little
distance, and looked back, and saw the bear just disappearing into the
hollow again.
“Wah!” Robert remarked. “He was fat meat, and we all are hungry, but
maybe I will find something else.”
Prowling on he stopped next at a cave under a rock ledge, much like the
place in which White Thunder and Aroas and he had slept when upon the
march to the Delawares, only deeper.
Dusk was gathering in the forest. Peering into the cave he could see
white bones; he also heard a faint rustle; but what made the rustle he
could not see, for the cave was crooked. But something growled low, and
that was not a bear.
The bones were not bones from a bear feast, either; clean picked they
were, but were not crushed. The Hunter cautiously crawled in, stooping,
his bow and arrow advanced ready to be drawn and loosed. His nose told
him of animals. The rustling had ceased, but the growling announced
that the animal was at home. The floor rose, so that the space between
floor and roof grew narrower; and when he came to a black hole just
about large enough for him, but not large enough to turn around in, he
stopped. All the cave was humming with that growl.
“Whoever you are, you are not good eating,” said the Hunter. “Stay
there, for I am going.”
Maybe the animal answered “Sour grapes” and maybe it only laughed.
Anyway, Robert began to crawl backward; and then his feet twitched, and
he felt like hurrying, for he heard another, louder growl behind him.
Hurry he did, until he could twist about. And when he straightened up,
at the threshold, he confronted the owner of the cave.
Not more than fifteen feet before him there crouched, upon the body of
a yearling deer, a mother panther, returned (likewise in a hurry) with
meat for her family.
The face of the cliff curved in two horns, so that the Hunter had
little choice of directions. The panther squatted more flatly, her tail
lashing, her long, sharp claws clutching and rasping upon the snow,
her tremendous fangs bared to the red gums, while her growls rose to a
scream. In the dusk her eyes shone greenly.
Watching her, the Hunter hesitated. To be sure, he might climb the
cliff face, if he moved carefully and threatened her off. Then perhaps
she would go inside. But Guyasuta would ask him why he had run away.
Besides, here was a deer.
“Leave me that deer and you shall have your life,” spoke the Hunter. “I
have not harmed your babies. You can get another deer. Wah! Out of the
way!”
The panther screamed with cat scream, and quivered tensely. She was
about to spring. The Hunter, standing stanchly, put one arrow between
his teeth and drew the nocked arrow full to the head. He scarce had
time――right into the air she launched herself, and he loosed and
dodged, and slipped. Her leap was short; as she landed and struck and
bit he glimpsed his arrow in her shoulder, but the claws of her sound
forearm ripped through leggins and flesh to the bone.
He jumped aside, not to run but to shoot again. He was very quick,
and she was quick too. This was a battle to the death. Snarling and
tumbling and biting at the arrow she whirled for him; and poised
firmly, waiting his chance, he loosed the second arrow just as she rose.
The bow twanged of itself, as it seemed to him; the arrow thudded;
she barely had left the ground when she collapsed, for the arrow was
buried to the feathers in her chest. She struggled but an instant, and
surrendered.
The Hunter gave a scalp yell――“Wah hoo-oo-oo!” Not often did a boy with
bow and arrow kill a panther in hand-to-hand battle. What a great beast
this was――as large as himself! What teeth, what jaws, what claws! Now
he was entitled to wear the panther claw necklace, token of a hunter
and a warrior! And he had the deer.
He set to work at once, with his knife, skinning his enemy; and he cut
and slashed rapidly for dusk was thickening, and the evening was cold.
Very soon he had the pelt. His leg hurt furiously, but that should
be looked at later. Then he dressed the deer carcass by removing its
insides to make it lighter.
“Listen, brothers,” he called, into the cave mouth. “I am leaving you
the meat of your mother and the insides of the deer. They will make you
strong to hunt for yourselves.”