IN WHICH BARRINGFORD IS MADE A PRISONER
The news which Dave and Sam Barringford had to tell interested the
Morrises at Fort Cumberland exceedingly.
"I knew all along that the twins must come from no common stock," said
Mrs. Morris, gazing fondly at the boys, who were playing near. "They
deserve a good home, and a fine education."
"Exactly the way I reason, ma'am," answered the old frontiersman. "It's
my plain duty to place 'em in their father's hands, ef I can find the
gentleman."
"I don't want Tom and Artie to leave me," pleaded Nell. "I just love
them so." And running up she kissed the twins.
Two days passed and matters remained quiet at the fort. Then
Barringford announced that he had found out all about the trails
leading northward and out to Detroit, and would start on the trip on
the following Monday.
"Why can't I go with you?" asked Dave. "There doesn't seem to be
anything for me to do here. I hate to hang around day after day doing
nothing."
"If your uncle says you can go, I'd like fust-rate to have you,"
answered the old frontiersman.
The matter was talked over that evening. At first Joseph Morris was
inclined to refuse his permission, but he finally consented, for he
could see that Dave's heart was set on the trip.
"It will be a journey full of danger," he said to his nephew. "I do not
know what your father would say to it. If you go, you must be careful."
"I'm always as careful as possible, Uncle Joe; and I'm sure Sam will be
extra careful this trip, with the Indians on the war-path."
"It is possible that you may hear something about your father's
trading-post at Detroit," went on Joseph Morris. "I cannot understand
why no news has come in by way of Fort Pitt."
"Fort Pitt may be having its own hands full," suggested Rodney, who was
listening to the conversation. "I only hope Uncle Jim and Henry are
safe."
Fortunately for Barringford and Dave, they found a man going to one of
the posts northward with a dozen horses, which had been sold to the
Colonial government for military use. This man was glad enough to have
the pair go along, and offered each a mount in exchange for their work
in helping to care for the animals. Rodney saw them a mile on their
way, and shook hands warmly with Dave on parting.
"I wish you luck," he said to his cousin and the old frontiersman. "And
be sure to come back with a whole skin," he added. He understood well
the perils which might lie before them.
For several days the party of three journeyed northward with but little
out of the ordinary happening. The weather was fine, with just a touch
of the coming summer in the air. The birds filled the forest with their
music, and here and there the early flowers began to peep forth. Winter
had disappeared rapidly, much to the satisfaction of both whites and
red men.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" said Dave, as they rode forward. "Oh,
if only this fighting would come to an end, and we could go back to
farming again, and raising cattle, and chickens, and the like! Sam, I
am tired of fighting."
"So am I, lad. But so long as the red men keep it up, we'll have to do
our share, I reckon. I'm not in favor of backing out, are you?"
"Oh, no, I believe in staying where we are."
At the end of a week they reached a small settlement known as Gantor's
Mill, and here the trader with the horses left them, to go to a fort a
few miles eastward.
"It's a good, long tramp we have before us, Dave," said the old
frontiersman, as they started off on foot.
"How long do you think it will take?"
"That depends. If we find good trails, and can use the rivers and the
lake, perhaps two weeks."
They carried with them a good stock of provisions and had been told
where they could find a canoe as soon as the first of the rivers was
gained. By good luck, they ran into no Indians, and on the following
day were on the stream, and paddling along in fine style, under the
overhanging trees. The leaves were growing thicker every day, and in
some spots closed over the water so thoroughly that not a streak of
sunshine reached them.
"What ideal places for hunting and fishing," said Dave, as he looked
about him. "Sam, one could spend a month here and never notice how the
time was passing."
Once they came close to several deer that were drinking. They had
brought a bow and arrows along, and standing up in the bow of the canoe
Dave took careful aim and fired on the smallest of the game. The deer
was struck in the breast and fell over into the river, and paddling up
they secured their prize.
"Fine eating here," declared Barringford. "We won't want for fresh meat
for a while." And that evening they cut the deer up and fixed a portion
of it for carrying and also dined on the tenderest of venison steaks.
One day succeeded another, and much to their surprise and satisfaction
they saw nothing of any Indians. Once they passed what had been a
village, but it was deserted, and only a stray dog, lean and hungry,
came down to the river bank to bark at them.
"The redskins must be off to the war," said Dave, and he was right.
On the following day they reached the point where they had to leave the
river. A march of eighteen miles through the wilderness to a smaller
stream was before them. As the canoe had proved such a friend, they
resolved to carry the craft with them.
"It will take time, but a canoe will be better than a raft, when we do
get to that other watercourse," said the old frontiersman.
Thus far they had avoided nearly every post or fort that lay in their
course, fearing to fall into the hands of the Indians who might be in
such vicinities.
The way through the wilderness proved tedious, and when the next river
was gained, both were glad enough to go into camp and rest for one
whole day. The brambles had torn their clothing and they spent an
hour in mending the rents. Then, when rested, they took a bath, which
refreshed them not a little.
The watercourse was shallow and in spots so narrow that they had to
fairly pull their way between the bushes. But journeying thus was
better than walking, and in a few hours they reached a spot where the
current carried them onward at a fair rate of speed, so that they could
rest from paddling. Gradually the river widened, until they gained a
tiny lake, located in the very heart of the wilderness. On two sides
were trees of immense size, and elsewhere great rocks loomed up, over
which, in one spot, flowed a tiny waterfall.
"This is simply sublime!" murmured Dave. "I had no idea it was so
beautiful. It puts me in mind of certain spots on the Kinotah and the
Monongahela."
At the other end of the lake, called by the Indians Sho-go-hepack, the
river continued its course to the north-westward, and without resting
that afternoon, they moved onward, covering sixteen more miles by
sunset. Then they reached a series of shallows, and had to carry the
canoe two miles over the rocks and through the wet places.
"This isn't so nice," remarked Dave, after slipping down in a pool of
water. "These wet rocks are tremendously slippery."
"Never mind, ye ain't swallerin' no dust," answered Barringford, and
then both laughed at the old frontiersman's little joke.
Beyond the shadows, the river ran swiftly, and on the next day they had
all they could do to keep the canoe to its course and prevent the craft
from striking the rocks which now and then loomed up before them.
"This is where we gain time," said Dave. "It beats walking and
horseback riding, too."
"Nothin' better nor canoein', when the river is proper," answered
Barringford.
During the day they sighted large quantities of water fowls, and each
brought down some with the bow and arrows. They proved to be good
eating, and gave them a variety in their meals.
The first real alarm came two days later, just as they were on the
point of leaving the river and abandoning the canoe. They were now
about one day's journey from the southern shore of Lake Erie. The
river was nothing but a series of rapids, so to paddle further became
impossible. The rocks in that vicinity rendered it difficult to carry
the canoe, and the craft was scarcely worth taking, for it had hit
several times during the journey and sprung half a dozen leaks.
The two travelers had just passed out of sight of the river when,
without warning, they came upon half a dozen Indians, sitting in a
small open space, conversing earnestly.
"Injuns!" muttered Sam Barringford, and pulled Dave out of sight. "I
vow, but we came near to walkin' right on 'em!"
"That's what we did," answered the youth. "They haven't seen us,
though, so we are safe."
"Follow me, Dave, an' don't make no noise," went on the old
frontiersman.
Without delay, they started to walk around the resting place of the red
men. This took them to a spot where the rocks were exceedingly rough,
and they had all they could do to make any progress at all.
"Drop!" yelled Dave, suddenly, and sank out of sight. Barringford lost
no time in doing the same. On the instant several arrows whizzed over
their heads.
"There are more Indians ahead of us," whispered the youth. "I am afraid
we are caught, Sam!"
He had scarcely spoken when a wild war-whoop broke the stillness of the
wilderness, and fully a dozen red men came scrambling over the rocks
in the direction of the whites.
"Shall we fire on them?" asked Dave.
"Yes, and then run," was the quick answer. "It's our only hope, Dave."
The two rifles were raised and discharged almost as one. Down went the
two leading red men, and the others lost no time in leaping out of
sight. Then Dave and Barringford took to their heels, into the thickets
to the westward. It was a rough journey, and their feet were cut on the
rocks and their clothing torn by the bushes, but still they kept on
until they came to a spot where further progress appeared impossible.
"Are they after us?" asked Dave, in a low voice.
"Can't say yet, lad. Load up," and they loaded with all possible speed.
Looking about them, they presently found a narrow passageway between
two big rocks, and then moved onward as before, until they reached a
tiny watercourse, running in the direction of the lake. They were now
out of breath because of their exertions and sank down on some flat
rocks to rest.
"Stay here, I'm going to look around a bit," said Barringford,
presently, and slipped through the brushwood like a snake.
Ten minutes passed, and Dave waited impatiently for the old
frontiersman to return. Then he arose and began to look around himself.
A tree was handy and he climbed this.
From the top of the tree he could get an excellent view of the
surrounding country. From one point he turned his gaze to another, but
beheld nothing out of the ordinary. The camp of the Indians was hidden
from view.
He was about to descend again, when a distant shot reached him. Then
Barringford burst into view, followed by eight or ten Indians. Dave saw
the old frontiersman fall headlong, and in a minute more the red men
completely surrounded him and made him their prisoner.