THE CAPTAIN AND THE INDIAN.
The report of the outrage on the flat-boat, we say, reached our
settlement, but it was discredited by many, among whom, of course, was
Captain Parks. And even when the ranger himself related to the
astonished people what he had witnessed and done, the irascible captain
told him he had imagined it all. He held such faith in the chastisement
given by Colonel Clark, that there was but one argument which could make
him believe the savages had really commenced their outrages again. That
argument, in its most convincing form, he was to receive.
As is generally the case, the long pre-emption from attack gave to the
pioneers an undue sense of security, and many of them more than once
culpably exposed themselves to danger. No warning or remonstrances could
induce some from plunging into the forest and erecting their cabins more
than a rifle-shot from the block-houses. The restless, eager enterprise,
so peculiar to the American people, manifested itself in every
proceeding.
In those days nearly every species of game abounded in the wood: the
bear, buffalo, deer, panther, elk, coon, wolf, and the numberless
smaller animals. These, with the myriads of delicious fish, showed the
goodly inheritance of the pioneer.
One morning, in the late summer, Captain Parks shouldered his rifle and
plunged into the wood, determined to spend the day in the hunt. The
minister, Edwards, ventured to caution him, but he only received an
impatient “Umph!” for his good intentions. He would neither permit any
one to accompany him, and evinced considerable temper when it was
ventured upon the ground of safety. He turned his footsteps toward the
Licking river, and his object was to bring down several deers. In a
short time he reached a celebrated deer lick, and bringing his dog to
him, concealed himself in the bushes.
Lying thus, with his gaze turned up the lick, he saw nothing behind him
until his dog uttered a low growl of alarm. Turning around, instead of
an animal, he saw nothing less than a Shawnee Indian following his
trail!
But at this unlucky moment the dog gave a bark and sprang to his feet.
The Indian, at the first alarm, sprung backward, and stood on the
defensive, and the captain seeing that he was discovered, arose and
approached him, while each held his rifle ready to fire at the first
demonstration of the other. But neither fired, as they both recognized
each other.
The savage had often been in the settlement, and was generally known to
the whites as a drunken, worthless sot. Some suspected him of treachery,
although he had never been detected in any overt act, and professed
friendship to them. But he had the appearance of a low, cunning fellow,
and was carefully shunned by the most cautious. He had been christened
Bill by the settlers, and it had been remarked that for the last few
months he had not been noticed in the vicinity of the settlement.
“Why, how see you, Bill?” asked the captain, extending his hand.
“Me good. How captain?”
“All right. Hunting, I see?”
“Yeh; me huntin’ for dam deer.”
“Wal, did you get on their track?”
“Purty nigh track o’ sunken’.”
“Track of what?” demanded the captain, in a towering passion.
“Me don’t know; tink him dam Mingo,” eagerly replied the savage.
“Umph! our tracks looks a good deal alike.”
“Yeh! much like,” repeated the Indian.
“If I’s sure you were following me, Bill, I’d shoot you in a minute.”
The small restless eye of the Shawnee fairly snapped with electric
blackness for an instant as he gazed at the captain; but the latter
returned his look with his own glittering orbs and awed him at once.
“I hardly think you would try such a thing, because I always treated you
gentlemanlike; kicking you out the house when you gave me any of you
jaw, and licking you like blazes when you insulted the woman. And you
chaps got such a whipping from our boys that I hardly believe you will
try any of your tricks very soon again.”
“Shawnees do nothing; much ’fraid.”
“S’pose so. Come, Bill, be honest. Did the Shawnees stop a flat-boat up
the river and butcher all hands?”
“No; big lie; nebber do such thing.”
“Well, I don’t believe they did. Where’s Simon Girty and that devil,
Pete Johnson? Raising the devil among your people?”
“Girty am so (imitating the action of scalping) and Johnson gone back
with own folks.”
“You don’t say?” asked the captain, swallowing the falsehood.
“Yeh; me help to do it to Girty.”
“Umph! that’s one good thing you have done in your life. How came them
to scalp Simon Girty.”
“Him want to kill all whites: he do too much.”
“I haven’t seen you around the settlement since you went off so drunk.
Thought maybe you were gone.”
“Bill go live with squaw and take care of ’em.”
“Oh, married, I see. Well, that’s all right, I s’pose—but I started out
on a deer hunt, and I am of the opinion that it’s few deer we shall see
if we stand here talking.”
“Very good; Bill shoot deer, too.”
Captain Parks returned to his hiding place, and the Indian followed, and
passed beyond and concealed himself behind him. The Shawnee held his
rifle toward the captain, and continually raised his head as though he
expected the approach of some animal; but the captain soon became
convinced that these glances were bestowed upon himself. They remained
in this position for an hour. At the expiration of that time the captain
arose and expressed his determination of going home. The savage arose
also, and they started together.
When within a few miles of home, they reached a large brook, in which
were thrown several stones, to assist in crossing over. Without
hesitation, our friend stepped on these and commenced passing. As he
reached the opposite shore, he turned suddenly around to see the savage.
This movement saved his life, for at that instant the savage raised his
rifle and fired. The bullet shattered the powder-horn at the captain’s
waist, and before he could recover, the Indian uttered a yell of
defiance and disappeared in the forest.
“After him, dog, and tear him to pieces!” he exclaimed, furiously.
The dog plunged into the forest with a howl, and took his trail with the
quickness of lightning. Suddenly the yelp of the dog ceased, and before
he had taken a dozen steps, the moaning, bleeding form of his dog
appeared. He dropped with a whine at the captain’s feet. The poor brute
was dead, and Captain Parks was convinced that the Shawnees were pretty
well rid of their friendly feeling toward the settlers.