CHAPTER IX

THE SPIRIT OF THE PIONEER

"OH! there goes the Hutchinson cabin, swept away down the river!" arose

a cry from near by; and, looking out, the boys saw that it was indeed

too true.

With the rising of the water the stout cabin had finally been lifted

from its foundations, and, the last they saw of it, the current was

making a plaything of what had only a short time before been a happy

home.

"Ours may be the next!" was Sandy's choking exclamation, as he and Bob

continued to stand there and watch.

Every time there was a lurch to the log building that seemed to presage

its destruction, Sandy would press his hand over his eyes, as though he

could not bear the sight; and a moment later the cheering voice of his

brother would assure him that the peril had passed, at least for that

time, as the sturdily-built cabin still held out.

So the early dawn found the dismal settlement on the bank of the Ohio.

Men stood moodily about, watching the destruction of their homes,

and feeling very bitter toward the river that was robbing them so

mercilessly. Again and again did some one turn the conversation to

that subject which had engrossed the mind of Sandy Armstrong for so

long--the charms of the rich land to be found away off toward the

region of the setting sun, where the Mississippi rolled its mighty

flood, and abundance awaited the coming of bold pioneers capable of

turning the black soil that would grow fabulous crops.

One spoke of the vast herds of buffaloes that roamed unhindered through

the aisles of the dense forests; another had heard stories about the

vast quantities of the most valuable fur-bearing animals ever seen, and

which could be easily captured by energetic trappers.

"And the Indians are not of the same bloodthirsty stripe as the

Shawanees, the Iroquois, and the Delawares, with whom we have been

constantly threatened," was the argument a third settler advanced.

Sandy hovered around whenever the talk trended this way, eagerly

drinking in all that was said. He believed that, if only that

wonderful young forest ranger, Simon Kenton, were present, he would

willingly join his fortunes with a party that might be made up to start

toward the distant goal, as soon as a suitable flatboat could be built.

And Sandy only wished he might see the tall, sinewy figure of the

indomitable Kenton striding toward the fire at that very moment; since

his coming would certainly sway the weak members of the party toward a

conclusion.

Abijah Cook, the toothless old ranger, who had been entrusted with

the task of keeping track of the river's rise, came hastening toward

the gathering at this time. There was something about the way in

which he swung his old coonskin cap that aroused the curiosity of the

disconsolate settlers.

"Abijah brings good news!" some one called out, as the hunter drew near.

"The river is surely at a stand!" called the man who swung his hunter's

cap so vigorously. "For this half hour it has only risen an inch!"

"Then the worst must be over!" exclaimed a distracted father, hurrying

off to see if his cabin had stood through that period of stress and

strain.

It was a scene they would never forget that greeted the eyes of the

pioneers as the day came on.

Five cabins were no longer where they had been at the close of the

preceding day. They had fallen victims to the insatiable maw of the

river, and by this time must have been scattered over miles of the

watercourse, as roof and walls were torn apart by the force of the

current.

Sandy was in a fever of suspense. He came back again and again to see

if their cabin still resisted the grip of the flood.

"There is a chance that it will hold out to the end!" he cried, as the

boys stood there and watched the trembling roof of the home. "And, if

it does, why we can easily find mother's little treasure box, with the

valuables she thinks so much of; and then there is our wampum belt,

which Pontiac gave us with his own hands, to show all Indians, who

might threaten us, that we were the friends and brothers of the sachem.

Oh! I would feel pretty bad, I tell you, if that should be lost."

"So would I, Sandy," replied Bob; "because we've depended on that belt

to keep the torch away from our settlement. Once it is lost, we are no

better off than Boonesborough, or any other place around which the

Indians constantly hover, ready to use bullets or arrows or torch upon

the unsuspicious settlers. But, Sandy, cheer up. If the cabin does

hold out to the end, we are sure to find the treasure box again; for

you know it would float on the water, and could hardly escape from the

interior, since the door is shut."

"That's what I've been thinking, Bob," returned the other. "But when

will the water go down enough for us to cross over and find out the

truth? Every minute seems like a whole hour to me; and the hours are

like days."

"Well, we can't hurry the old river a bit by getting excited," Bob

continued, knowing of old the nervous nature of his brother; "so the

best we can do is to try to make our mother and sister comfortable.

They have gone into the blockhouse, you see, and it is there we must

carry some of our belongings; for the women and children will have to

sleep there for some days. Even the cabins that are left standing will

be so water-soaked that it would never do for children to sleep in them

until they are dried out by fires."

And so, in this labor of love, even Sandy was enabled to forget, for a

time at least, his troubles and anxieties.

The river, while at a stand, had not as yet started to go down, though

by night, the older and more experienced among the settlers declared,

they might expect to see some difference in the height of the waters.

Many anxious eyes were cast upward toward the heavens during the

morning; and hardly a fleecy cloud that came sailing into sight but was

viewed with more or less fear, lest it turn into a vapory billow that

would quickly overspread the blue arch, and let down another torrential

rain.

But the air was clear and crisp, and in truth it had apparently cleared

up for good, as if Nature were satisfied with the damage already

wrought.

The big blockhouse had been built with the thought that, in case of

an Indian attack, it would be called on to hold all in the little

settlement. Around it a high stockade or palisade had been erected,

behind the shelter of which the defenders might hold their own against

the crafty foe, shooting through loopholes that had been made for guns.

It was a two-story affair, the upper projecting a foot or more beyond

the lower, as was the ease with most blockhouses built in those dark

days, when enemies were apt to spring up in a night, surrounding

the fort, and striving by every device known to savage ingenuity to

encompass its destruction.

There were small openings in the floor of this second story where it

overlapped the lower walls, and through these the defenders might

protect the log foundations from being set on fire by the red fiends

who had besieged the occupants, and were bent on their destruction.

After all, it could be made fairly comfortable, and, as there is more

or less consolation in having companions in misery, the women were

beginning to pluck up a little heart, looking to the coming of better

times.

Those whose homes had been carried away were promised the assistance of

every strong arm in the community, in the effort to provide them with

new cabins, for, being so utterly aloof from contact with civilization,

the pioneers were dependent on one another for everything that went to

make up life.

Of course the boys could not long keep away from the bank, where they

might look out toward the upper part of their submerged cabin and

speculate on its ability to hold out to the end.

As the day wore on their hopes kept rising and falling. Sandy, in

particular, changed his mind about every ten minutes. Now he was

certain that the good old cabin was bound to defy the power of the

flood to move it from its foundations; then again he would call out

that he feared it must be about to give up the fight, because he had

seen its walls shake in a way that told they were near collapse.

But noon came and went, and found things just about the same as when

dawn broke over the cheerless scene. True, another cabin had succumbed

to the rush of swirling water, so that six in all had been destroyed;

but that circumstance alone need not fill them with dismay, since new

abodes could be erected, before many weeks had passed, that would in

all probability be an improvement on the old.

Around the fires the men gathered in clusters to talk over the

situation, and exchange opinions. And every time Bob chanced to draw

near one of these groups he discovered, to his surprise, that much of

the talk was about the chances of a venturesome party reaching the

fertile prairie land away off to the west, by following the course of

the Ohio.

Apparently, then, Sandy had spoken truly when he declared that the seed

had taken root in the hearts of several of the heads of families; and

Bob found that even his own father seemed to be as deeply interested in

the project as any of the others.

The very idea gave Bob a thrill. To the bold pioneer, be he boy or

man, there is always something very fascinating about heading into the

unknown land. Somewhere ahead there always exists a wonderful country

where marvellous things may be done. Just as the lure of gold led men

to cross the wide plains to California so this feverish desire to

possess the land appealed to our forefathers, and tempted them to brave

the perils that lay in wait along unknown trails, all leading westward.

Some of the men who had lost their hard-earned homes were especially

bitter concerning the location which had been picked out for them by

Daniel Boone; just as though the frontiersman could ever have foreseen

such an astonishing rise of the river as this flood had been, greater,

the Indians declared, than had ever been known before, as far back as

their traditions went.

But these grumblers declared that the place must have some sort of

curse resting upon it. They had met with troubles without end ever

since coming across the mountains to the new country on the Ohio.

To continue to bear up under the oppressive yoke was asking too much

of them; and, as they scorned the very idea of returning to Virginia,

there seemed but one alternative, which was to move on further into

the wilderness, found a new home there, and profit by being the first

English families to penetrate that hitherto unsettled region.

After they had eaten some lunch, which made things appear a bit more

cheerful, as a meal always does, the boys again wandered down to the

edge of the river, to look out over the flowing tide, and speculate on

its fast subsidence; for they had made marks themselves, and knew by

these that the flood was losing its grip.

Sandy was feeling much more cheerful now. He even expressed the opinion

that they were sure to find the little treasure box floating around

inside the cabin, once they could get out to see. And certainly the

precious wampum belt, that spelled safety for the Armstrong family, no

matter what tribe of Indians they happened to meet, could not be much

injured by a mere soaking.

Bob had heard the changes rung upon this subject half a dozen times

during that half of a day; and he fully anticipated finding his brother

breaking out into another lament before half an hour had passed, as the

whim seized him.

Nor was he mistaken about this, though the cause came from a quarter

least expected. It was while the boys were standing there, watching

the flow of the flood, and commenting on the fine stand taken by the

Armstrong cabin, which must always reflect credit on its builders,

themselves included, that Sandy gave a sudden exclamation that seemed

to sound an alarm.

"After all," he cried out, in a distressed tone, "we have been building

our hopes on a sandy foundation. The dear old cabin has stood up

against all the pull of the river; but, see yonder, there comes a

great tree floating down, as if it was in a mill race; and as sure as

anything it's headed straight for our poor home. Once that strikes

against the wall, we can say good-bye to the Armstrong cabin. Oh! it's

hard to have to stand here, and not be able to lift a hand to save

mother's home!"

The Pioneer Boys of the Mississippi; or, The Homestead in the Wilderness · 第 9 / 30 章