DANIEL BOONE, THE PILOT OF THE SETTLERS
"WELL, that settles it!" said Sandy, disconsolately, as he looked at
his brother.
"The box is certainly gone," replied Bob, trying not to show his
feelings more than he could help, because he felt sure Sandy must be
close to the breaking-down point.
"And we'll never see our fine belt again," continued the other. "I
wonder if the chief would feel like giving us another, in case he
learned of our losing this one?"
"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Bob returned, with a shake of
his head. "In the first place, how could we hope to see Pontiac, when
by now he may be many hundreds of miles away from here, for he belongs
up near the lakes, where the Pottawottomies have their lodges, along
with the Sacs and the Chippewas? Then again, even if we dared take that
adventurous journey, and escaped all the perils of the wilderness,
perhaps Pontiac would believe he had done all he should for us, and
refuse to hand over another belt. I'm afraid we'll never set eyes on
that wampum again."
"Unless," remarked Sandy, with the sanguine nature of youth, "those
trappers should strike out for the trading posts along the Mississippi,
and we'd happen to run across them, some time or other. And I can tell
you this, Bob, if ever I do meet with either of those rascals, I'm
bound to make him hand over our property."
"I believe you would," declared Bob, his own eyes snapping as he saw
the look of determination on the face of his brother.
It was a hard task for Bob to inform his parents of their loss. Sandy
shirked the unpleasant duty, and remained away while his brother went
to find the others. He was moody and silent the rest of the day, a
most unusual circumstance for one possessed of so bright and sunny a
disposition. In the course of time this feeling would wear off in a
measure, but the loss of that valued wampum belt was going to worry
Sandy more than a little.
The river continued to fall very rapidly, and, in the course of a few
days, might be expected to get back into its natural channel. But
there was no great eagerness shown by the settlers to rebuild the
wrecked cabins.
Truth to tell, the more they talked about making a bold push further
westward, the stronger the idea began to appeal to them; until it was
now almost an assured fact that several families would throw their
fortunes in together, build a staunch flatboat, with a large log
cabin on it, upon which they could embark, with their few household
necessities, and trust to fortune to carry them safely through what
perils might lie in wait further down the Ohio.
It was just two days after the flood went down, that a council of war
was called among the families most directly interested in the new
venture. These were, besides the Armstrongs, the Harkness, Bancroft and
Wayne people, and several others who were as yet uncertain what course
to pursue.
It was in a serious frame of mind that they gathered there in the open,
to talk over what plans they had better arrange, looking to a migration
from the settlement on the bank of the Ohio to new fields.
Every scrap of information that could be unearthed was made to do duty
over again. Mr. Armstrong had become very much in earnest now, and he
was held in such respect by the others that his change of front had
considerable influence in causing the Waynes to decide.
Of course the younger element had nothing to say in this meeting; but
that did not prevent them from listening with the deepest interest as
the question was debated from all sides.
Sandy, especially, was filled with enthusiasm. His pet project, over
which he had spent many a sleepless hour, now seemed in a fair way of
being realized. Long had that mysterious West held out tempting hands
toward the pioneer boy. Just as Daniel Boone had come to believe that
it was his destiny to open up the wilderness to settlers, and plant new
colonies in the midst of fertile lands; so this lad, apparently, had
for some time felt that it was to be his fortune some day to look upon
that grand river, discovered by De Soto, which but few whites had ever
set eyes on, save the French traders and trappers, and they did not
count for much,--in Sandy's estimation, anyhow.
In the end there were just the four families who bound themselves
together in a little league, resolved to attempt to better their
conditions in this bold manner.
Some there were, among the others, who disliked exceedingly to see
them make preparations for leaving, and threw all manner of trifling
obstacles in the way. Whenever they had the chance they would work upon
the fears of the women belonging to the four households, by narrating
all manner of harrowing tales of the terror that lay in wait for
unfortunate voyagers down that mysterious lower Ohio.
But women were made of pretty good stuff in those early days, and
especially the wives of the pioneers. They had always faced trials that
would easily daunt their weaker sisters of to-day; and believed that
their place was beside the loyal men who were their only protectors,
and who stood ready to lay down their lives for those they loved.
There were others who, while they disliked to see their friends leaving
them, were ready and willing to do everything in their power to assist
the enterprise. These loyal ones gave many a hard day's work, helping
to fetch in the timber for the flatboat, and hew the straight logs that
were so necessary for its construction. Their good wives sacrificed
some of their treasured stores in order that those who were following
the beckoning finger of adventure might have an abundance with which
to start their new life.
Bob and Sandy worked hard, too, bringing in game that could be cured
after the Indian method, so that there need be no lack of food aboard
the flatboat, when once they started on their long journey.
The trapping season being over, the boys collected their traps, and
oiled them before storing them away, ready to be packed with their
other belongings. Sandy loved to picture the glorious time they would
have in their new surroundings, with not a white man, possibly, within
hundreds of miles, and the whole wilderness to draw upon for furs and
game and fish.
"I hope you may never be disappointed," Bob used to say to him, after
listening with a smile to one of these periodical outbursts. "But you
know things are not always what they seem. There may be plenty of game
away out there, and lots of fur-bearing animals; but what do we know
about the new dangers that we are apt to face? I do not speak in this
way before our mother and sister; but, between us, I do not like the
idea of being closer to those French than can be helped. They are a
villainous lot, as father says, and hold all English as their mortal
enemies."
"But, on the other hand," Sandy would reply, shrewdly, "there is a
change of heart coming to these same French. Have we not heard it
said that, should the Colonies break away from the Mother Country,
and rebel, France, being at war with England, would be on our side?
That might make some of these rascally French trappers our so-called
friends. I should not like that, and especially in the case of that
precious pair, Jacques Larue and Henri Lacroix, whom I hope to meet
face to face, at the muzzle of my gun, some happy day."
The Indians were beginning to show their teeth again, in a manner that
was not at all reassuring to the settlers who would make up the reduced
colony, after the flatboat had started down the Ohio.
Judge of the delight of the settlers, when one fine day, who should
appear at the colony that he had helped to found, but the backwoodsman,
Daniel Boone. He was on his way to Boonesborough, and in haste at that,
for the attitude of the Shawanees had become so threatening that there
was danger of the struggling little settlement falling into the hands
of the savages. (Note 8.)
He was keenly interested in all that had gone on since his last visit,
and was pleased when told that the bold adventurers had decided to take
their fate in their hands, and proceed far into the land of the setting
sun. Such a move his spirit could easily sympathize with, for most
of his life had been taken up with just such splendid and hazardous
enterprises.
"If only I had the time," he said to Mr. Armstrong, "dearly would I
love to accompany you in this venture, for I myself have long wished
to set eyes on that wonderful Mississippi of which you speak. My best
wishes will go with you; and, if a written word of mine may do you
any good by the way, you shall have it for the asking. Even among the
Indians I have a few good friends; for they know me as an honorable
enemy in time of war, and one whose word once given is never broken."
Sandy was of course anxious to know about the young hunter whom he
admired so much, often the companion of Boone; and, when he had a
chance, he made inquiries. The frontiersman had by no means forgotten
Bob and Sandy, and, indeed, one of his first questions when he met
Mr. Armstrong had been of them, and what new adventures they had been
having of late.
"I have not seen the young man for some time," Boone had answered, when
Sandy made his inquiry. "The last I heard of him, he had gone to the
Ohio, and was at Fort Washington, I believe. So that there is always a
slight chance that you may run across him during your voyage."
Of course Boone was able to give them a great deal of information, as
well as warn them against the tricks of the sly Indians, who would be
likely to resort to all manner of devices in order to overpower the
travellers.
"Above all things," he urged upon the men of the party before taking
his departure that same afternoon, to rejoin his companions, camped
not many miles away, "beware of the white man who appeals to you from
the shore, and tells a pitiful story of having been captured by the
Indians, from whom he has but recently escaped. The chances are as ten
to one that he is but one of those villainous renegades like Girty,
McKee or Butler, who act as decoys for their swarthy brothers; and that
he only means to lure you close to the shore, so that they can pour a
deadly volley into your midst, and board the boat in the confusion."
"But what if his story should be true?" objected Mr. Harkness. "We
should feel like murderers if we abandoned a poor wretch of our own
color. And surely success could not come to an expedition founded on
cruelty."
"Your first duty is toward your own families," spoke up Boone, sternly.
"If, then, his story is true, demand that he enter the river, and swim
out to you, while you hold the boat stationary by the anchor, but at a
safe distance away. If he refuse to do this, and suddenly disappear,
see to it that you lay low, for there will immediately rain a tempest
of bullets and deadly arrows from the bushes, behind which his red
allies lie hidden."
In this strain, then, did the great pioneer warn those who were about
to trust themselves and their precious families to the waters of the
lower Ohio. Hearing all he said, both Sandy and Bob were greatly
impressed, and secretly resolved to profit by the advice.
Boone admitted that it was a great misfortune to have lost that magic
wampum belt of Pontiac's, which he had seen on a former visit.
"I know Pontiac, and how far his influence goes with nearly every
tribe between here and the Mississippi," he said; "and there will be
many times, I fear, when you will deeply regret that you did not hold
tighter to his gift, as it would save you from troubles that ever beset
the pioneer's life."
When Boone shook hands with every soul in the settlement, kissed the
babies, and hurried away, to head for his own little settlement, there
was not one among them but felt that the mere presence of such a man
was a tower of strength to any struggling community on the border of
civilization.