PREPARING FOR THE EXPEDITION WESTWARD
The winter had been a severe one, but early in March came a rapid change
and in a few days the spring thaw began in earnest, flooding the banks of
the creeks and rivers and causing not a little damage to such buildings as
were located close to the water's edge. The forest in that vicinity was
still heavy, so that the freshet was not as severe as it is in these days,
when there remains but little timber to break the rush of snow and ice and
water down the sides of hills and mountains.
With the coming of spring James Morris began to make his arrangements for
visiting his trading-post on the Kinotah. In the meantime those at the
cabin did their best to learn something concerning the two babies Sam
Barringford had picked up. But the efforts in this direction were without
success.
Nothing could be learned of the traveler who had the little children,
although diligent inquiries were pursued at Fort Bedford, and many other
points. Letters were sent to Annapolis and to Philadelphia concerning
Barringford's discovery but brought no satisfaction. Once a party wrote
that the children might belong to his dead brother, but this proved to be
untrue.
"It's a complete mystery, that's what it is," declared Henry.
"And it looks to me as if it will never be solved," added Dave.
The children still remained at the Morris house and Mrs. Morris gave both
the best of care. The kind woman felt positive that they were twins, and
all who saw the children agreed that she was right. One was slightly darker
than the other in eyes and hair, and one chin was rounder than the other,
but otherwise it was next to impossible to tell them apart.
"Reckon I'll have to shoulder 'em as my own," remarked Sam Barringford one
day. "I'd do it in a minit if it wasn't thet I haven't nary a home to take
'em to."
"You may leave them here," said Mrs. Morris promptly. "I have talked it
over with Joseph and with James and it will be quite suitable."
"If you'll take 'em in charge I'll pay you for it, Mistress Morris," said
the old frontiersman. "It will be a weight off my shoulders to have ye do
it. I know as how the little chaps will get the best o' care."
And so it was arranged that the twins should remain with Mrs. Morris.
Barringford named them Tom and Artie, after two uncles of his own, and
these names clung to them as they grew older. Little did Barringford or the
Morrises dream of what the finding of these twins was to lead to in years
to come.
"Of one thing I am certain," said James Morris one day. "They are of good
breeding. No common blood flows in their veins."
"I take it you are right," answered his brother. "And it may be that some
day Sam will be well rewarded for saving them from death."
After a great deal of deliberation it had been decided that James Morris
should start for the west about the first of May. Dave and Henry were to go
with him, and likewise Sam Barringford and three other frontiersmen named
Lukins, Sanderson, and Jadwin. The party was likewise to contain four
Indians of the Delaware tribe under White Buffalo. The whites were all to
go mounted and were to take six pack-horses in addition. At first James
Morris thought to take a couple of wagons, at least as far as Fort Pitt,
but this plan was at the last moment abandoned, for wagons were scarce and
high in price, and there was no telling if they could be sold when the last
fort on the frontier was gained, and further progress with anything on
wheels became out of the question.
The coming of White Buffalo with his handful of trusted braves was an event
for Dave and Henry. This chief had been their friend for many years and
they felt that they could rely upon him, no matter how great the emergency.
In the past the tribe to which White Buffalo belonged had been split, some
fighting with the English and others with the French, but now some of the
leaders, including Skunk Tail, were dead, and, the war being at an end, all
were reunited under the leadership of White Buffalo and a young chief named
Rain Cloud. But White Buffalo could not forgive some of the men of his
tribe for taking up arms against the English and he was glad enough in
consequence to get away with his few chosen ones.
"How? How?" said the Indian, meaning "How do you do?" as he took first
Dave's hand and then Henry's and gave each a tight grip. "White Buffalo is
glad to see his young friends looking so well. The war has not harmed
them."
"No, White Buffalo, we are as well as ever," answered Dave. "And how have
you been since last we saw you?"
"White Buffalo is not so young as he once was," answered the chief. "His
step is not so light and his eye cannot see so far. Before many winters he
will be gathered to his fathers."
"Nonsense!" put in Henry. "You can shoot as straight as any of us, and I
know it, and walk just as far, too. Who told you that you couldn't?"
"The young braves at White Buffalo's village. They do not care for a chief
who is old."
"They make a big mistake, and I'd tell them so if I had the chance," went
on Henry earnestly. "You are all right, White Buffalo, and we'll be very
glad to have you along, even if your tribe doesn't want you any longer."
At this the eyes of the old Delaware glistened. "Henry is my true friend,"
he murmured. "And David is my friend, too. White Buffalo shall never forget
them."
"Are the men with you young men?" questioned Dave.
"No, they are almost as old as White Buffalo himself."
"That will suit father. He doesn't care for the young braves. They always
want to do what pleases them and not what is ordered."
"They are like untrained dogs, who follow one trail and then another and
hunt out nothing," was the old chief's comment.
True to his word, he had brought a new doll for little Nell, made by
himself with no other tool than his hunting knife. It was of wood, with
eyes of beads, and with joints fastened with deer thongs. It was
wonderfully painted, and on the top of the head was a bit of fur for hair.
"White Buffalo bring the papoose he told of," he said, producing it from
under his blanket. "Lady papoose, her name Minnehaha."
"Oh, what a beautiful, beautiful doll!" screamed little Nell, as she
embraced it. "And her arms and legs move, too! And such a nice name,
Minnehaha."
"What does Minnehaha mean?" asked Mrs. Morris, as she too surveyed the
precious gift.
"Minnehaha means Laughing Water," answered the Indian chief. "Grand lady,
like Queen."
"She is certainly a grand doll," put in Rodney. "Nell, you must take the
best of care of it."
"I shall," answered the little miss; and she did.
James Morris had gone to Annapolis, accompanied by his brother, and at this
important seaport purchased such things as were needed for the expedition,
including some extra weapons, powder, ball and shot, a box of flints, some
clothing, and many other things of more or less usefulness. To these were
added, when Will's Creek was again reached, two casks of salt pork, two
bags of beans, a sack of flour, a canister of coffee, others of sugar,
salt, pepper, and various other articles meant for the table. No fresh meat
was taken, the party depending upon their firearms to supply game and their
lines and hooks to furnish fish. A small supply of feed was also taken for
the horses, but this was to be used only when natural fodder could not be
found.
And all this was for an expedition from Cumberland to the Ohio River, a
distance of not much over a hundred miles, and which to-day can be made in
the trains inside of three hours with ease! But the trail the party was to
take was all of two hundred miles in length, and fifteen to twenty miles
per day was considered good traveling. This shows well the progress made in
our country in the past one hundred and forty odd years.
There were not sufficient accommodations at the Morris' cabin for all the
whites of the party, and the frontiersmen who were to go with Barringford
remained at the fort at Cumberland until the start, while the Indians made
themselves at home in the woods. Once White Buffalo was invited to take
dinner at the cabin, and did so with his usual reserve, eating the meal in
almost total silence, and immediately following with a "smoke of peace"
between himself and James and Joseph Morris.
"That Indian is one out of a hundred," remarked Joseph Morris to his
brother afterward. "I don't believe in trusting them much, but I would
trust White Buffalo."
"That is exactly how I feel about it," was the answer, "and why I was so
anxious to have him along. He has proved himself our friend through thick
and thin. It is too bad that there are not more of such."
"Perhaps there would be, James, had the Indians been treated fairly from
the start. But you know as well as I how the traders have cheated them when
driving bargains, and how some have given them too much rum and then
literally robbed them."
"Yes, yes, I know, and it is the one black spot on our colonization. There
should be a law against it. But even that does not warrant the red men in
being so savage as they have at times proved themselves."
"True again; but both the English and the French have been almost equally
brutal at times. Look at some of the old frontiersmen--those Barringford
has often spoken about. They liked a slaughter as well as the Indians, and
did not hesitate to scalp the enemy in the same way."
"Yes; but they learned that from the redskins in the first place."
"That is true, too; but they should not have taken up the custom, but
instead they should have tried to teach the Indians to do better,"
concluded Joseph Morris; and there the unsatisfactory argument rested.