SOMETHING CONCERNING THE TWINS
After many months of preparation, and after numerous councils of war,
the great conspiracy instituted by Pontiac was now complete, and the
Indians were ready to strike the English such a blow as had seldom, if
ever, been struck before.
The principal meeting of the Indians was held on the river Ecores,
only a few miles from where the city of Detroit now stands, but other
meetings were held in the villages of the Pottawattamies, the Sacs,
the Ojibwas, the Wyandottes, the Miamis, and many other tribes. Wampum
belts were passed, and the arguments in favor of driving the English
out waxed hot and bloodthirsty. It was reasoned (and truthfully, as
later events have proved), that if the hated whites were allowed to
remain, sooner or later they would overrun the whole of the red men's
hunting grounds, and the Indians would not know where to go to gain
their living.
It would have pleased Pontiac immensely had he been able to strike
every settlement and every fort on the same day and at the same hour.
This seems to have been his pet scheme, according to tradition and
certain reports from those times. But he could not master such a stroke
as this, for reasons already given, and as a consequence the attack
started in different localities at different times.
At Fort Cumberland all was now excitement. The settlers for miles
around came pouring into the small settlement, and the resources of the
place were taxed to their utmost. It is calculated by one authority
that as many as five hundred families of that locality were rendered
homeless. Many came in badly wounded, and temporary hospitals were
located everywhere. The majority of the families had to live under
the trees, or in such rude shelters as they managed to erect for
themselves. Every man was called on to do soldier duty, in case another
attack should come upon the fort direct.
But strange as it may seem, the Indians, for the time being, gave Fort
Cumberland a wide berth. Occasionally a few stray warriors showed
themselves, and drove off some cattle belonging to the settlers, but
that was all. The majority of the red men departed for other points,
and the subsequent fate of Venango, Presque Isle, and other forts,
showed how they continued their work of red-handed destruction.
As day after day passed at Fort Cumberland, and no Indians appeared,
the people became a trifle calmer, and a few stole away, to see whether
their homesteads had been burned or not. Among these were Dave and
Barringford.
"You must be careful," said Joseph Morris, when they were ready to
depart. "Don't run any chances, but turn back at the first trace of
anything wrong."
The journey back to the Morris homestead was quickly made by the
pair, and to their satisfaction they found the greater portion of the
building standing. A fire had been started at a corner of the living
room, and the apartment was much damaged, but that was all. The cattle
shed had been swept to the ground.
"Not so bad but what it might be worse," said Barringford, gazing
around. "Thet cabin can be fixed up in a week's time, to my way of
thinkin'."
"If they don't come back some day and finish their work," returned
Dave. "This attack isn't over yet, Sam, no matter how quiet it is just
now."
"You are right, Dave, but I reckon the next attack will be on the
forts, and not on the homes o' the settlers. The Injuns will be after
big game."
They were inspecting the cabin when they saw an Indian approaching.
It was White Buffalo, and they saw at a glance that he was far better
dressed than before, and looked in the best of health.
"I'm glad to see you, White Buffalo!" cried Dave.
"White Buffalo glad to see Dave so well, and his brother Sam, too,"
answered the aged chief.
"I suppose you understood how it was that we left you in the woods,"
came from the old frontiersman.
"Yes, White Buffalo wanted it so," was the simple answer.
"What brought you here?" asked Dave.
"White Buffalo came to see how his friends were getting along. He is
glad to know the cabin was not burned down."
"Have you heard anything from your warriors who were at my father's
trading-post?" went on Dave, eagerly.
"Two of them are dead. What has become of the others I know not."
"Dead? How were they killed?"
"That White Buffalo cannot answer. They were found in the woods,
between the trading-post and Fort Pitt, by Flat Chin. Being dead, they
could tell nothing."
"Have you heard anything of my father?"
"No, but I have heard from some other posts. The others were attacked
by Wanderers, and Sacs, and Miamis, and others, and burned. Some
Frenchmen are fighting with the Indians, and among them I heard was
Jean Bevoir."
"That rascal!" burst out Dave.
"I reckoned as how he'd turn up ag'in," growled Sam Barringford. "It's
a great pity we didn't finish him when we had the chanct!"
Being under suspicion, White Buffalo deemed it best not to show himself
around Fort Cumberland. The excitement over the massacre of the Digly
family had died down, but many still believed that White Buffalo was
guilty in part, if not in whole. It was said that one white settler
had seen the murder done, but he was now among the missing and could,
consequently, give no testimony.
"If we can find that man perhaps we can clear White Buffalo," Dave had
said more than once, but the settler could not be located, much to the
disappointment of all the aged Indian chief's friends.
"White Buffalo has heard a curious story," said the aged chief, after
matters in general had been talked over. "The tale came from an old
chief of the Ottawas, who once married a maiden of the Delawares. The
chief's name is Silver Cloud, and he thinks not much of this war."
"I've heard of Silver Cloud," returned Sam Barringford. "I thought he
was dead of old age."
"He has heard of my brother Sam, and when White Buffalo told him that
Sam had taken two little children for his own, he was interested, and
had White Buffalo tell the story of the finding of the twin boys. Then
he said he knew something of the children."
"Said he knew somethin' on 'em!" ejaculated the old frontiersman. "What
does he know?"
"One day Silver Cloud met a rich Frenchman, who had been drinking
deeply. The Frenchman talked much and Silver Cloud gathered from his
talk that he had been bitter against a rich Englishman. There had been
a quarrel over some land, either in England or in New France"--(meaning
Canada). "The Frenchman declared that he had had his revenge, and had
had the man's two children,--little boys that were twins,--stolen, and
that they had been taken to Virginia,--where they had perished in a
snow-storm, along with a man who had picked the twins up."
"It must be Tom and Artie!" cried Dave. "What else did Silver Cloud
tell?"
"Not much, save that the twins had been the pride of their father's
heart, and that the father had been heartbroken over their
disappearance, which he laid to the Indians."
"Did that Frencher tell his name, or the name of the man who had lost
them twins?" demanded Barringford.
"The Frenchman told nothing, but Silver Cloud learned afterward that
his name was Benoit Vascal, and that he was interested in a land grant
at Detroit, or near it."
"And did this Benoit Vascal go to Detroit?" asked Dave.
"Silver Cloud said so. When the Frenchman first told the story Silver
Cloud paid little attention, thinking the man was too deeply in his
cups to tell what was true. But when White Buffalo told what he knew,
then Silver Cloud change his mind, and said the tale must be true, and
that the twins must be those that my brother Sam found and saved."
"I wish I knew the name of that Englishman," came from the old
frontiersman. "I'd hate to lose Tom and Artie--I think so much of
'em--but if they've got a rich father lookin' for 'em, why, I don't
want 'em to suffer on my account."
"It would be grand, for them, if they did have a fine home to go to,"
said Dave. "But I don't see how we're to solve this mystery," and his
face clouded.
"You are quite sure the rich Englishman's name wasn't mentioned?" asked
Barringford.
"Yes, White Buffalo is sure, for he questioned Silver Cloud closely."
"How long ago is it since you heard of this?"
"But last week, and Silver Cloud met this Benoit Vascal but a moon ago."
"Then it's more than likely this Benoit Vascal is at Detroit," said
Dave. "He wouldn't dare to travel around much with the redskins on the
war-path."
"Not unless he was friendly to the Indians, Dave."
"He was no trader, so Silver Cloud said," White Buffalo went on to say.
"He was rich, and perhaps a nobleman in disguise."
Barringford and the youth talked the matter over with the aged
Indian chief for some time after that, but could gain no additional
information. Concerning the uprising, White Buffalo said it was likely
that matters around Fort Cumberland would remain quiet for some time to
come, that very few red men were now in that vicinity, and no new bands
were putting in an appearance.
When the pair had left the aged chief and were on their return to the
fort, both were in a thoughtful mood. Several times Barringford started
to speak, but relapsed into silence.
"I reckon as how it's my duty to find out what I can about Tom an'
Artie," he said, at last. "I love 'em just as if they war my own, but
it wouldn't be right fer me to keep 'em from knowin' who they were, an'
especially if they've got a rich father an' a good hum to go to."
"That is certainly true," answered Dave. "Mother will hate to lose
them, and it will break Nell's heart. But we ought not to stand in
their light for all that."
"It's a long trip to Detroit," resumed the old frontiersman, after
another period of silence. "But I kin make it if I have to."
"Then you think you'll journey all the way to Detroit, Sam?"
"Ain't no other way--if I'm to do my duty by them twins. If I war in
their place, I'd like sumbuddy to do as much fer me."
"How would you start to get to Detroit? I don't think it's safe to go
by way of Fort Pitt and Venango."
"No more do I, lad. I'd have to take a route further to the eastward.
I'd want to talk it over with some o' the other trappers fust, to find
out which trails war the best, everythin' considered."
"And when would you start, do you think?"
"The sooner the better, more'n likely, Dave. Even ef that Frencher is
at Detroit there ain't no tellin' how long he'll stay thar. Ef I start
out after him, why, I want to catch him."