SCHOOLMASTER HARGRAVE
Before breakfast had been prepared Peleg was aware of a certain partly
suppressed excitement among the members of the band. The women, with
tears in their eyes and with their children clinging to their skirts,
frequently had been in conference with Daniel Boone or with other men of
the party.
It was therefore not without some previous intimation that Peleg heard
the scout summon the men to a new conference.
As soon as they were assembled Boone said, "It will not be possible for
us to proceed at this time."
"Why not?" demanded Sam Oliver.
"The women are terror-stricken. I myself had not thought that we should
so soon be attacked by the savages. I have reason to remember our stay
on Cumberland Mountain----" For a moment the scout was silent, and an
expression of sympathy ran through the entire assembly. Once more in
control of his feelings, Boone continued: "It is not for myself, as you
know, that I am asking this return. It is useless, however, now to go
on with such fear among our womenfolk, and the redskins opposing us more
strongly the farther we go into Kantuckee."
"Where can we go?" inquired one of the assembly.
"I have decided that our best plan is to return to the settlement on the
Clinch River."
"How far is that from here?" asked the inquirer.
"About forty miles."
"I am not one to favour return just because we have been
unfortunate----"
"There is no question," said Daniel Boone, his eyes flashing in spite of
the quiet manner of his speech, "about what we shall do. We shall make
our plans to return at once."
Whatever feeling of rebellion may have been aroused in the minds of some
of his followers, the decision of the leader was not to be disputed. The
confidence of every one in his courage, integrity, and judgment was so
strong that no one at the time would have dared oppose the great scout.
Accordingly, hasty preparations were made for the return of the entire
band, and within an hour the emigrants were on their way.
The same order was maintained which previously had been used. An advance
party of five and three rear guards were formed, but now the scout had
in addition a small body moving on each flank, parallel with the main
body.
With the departure, renewed confidence came to all. As the band withdrew
further from Cumberland Mountain their spirits in a measure revived, and
when on the third day they arrived at the little settlement which they
were seeking on the Clinch River, even the tragedy which had befallen
them was seldom mentioned. Even the packhorses pricked up their ears and
required no incentive to induce them to move rapidly down the
mountainside.
When the emigrants at last arrived at their destination it was found
necessary to erect several new houses. The nights already were cool, and
a snowfall might be expected at any time. Even Sam Oliver, who seldom
assisted in the labours of the settlements, was induced to aid his
companions in felling the trees and cutting the logs for the little
houses which must be the sole protection of the people throughout the
coming winter.
Not many weeks after the return of Daniel Boone and his party,
Schoolmaster Hargrave found his way into the settlement. He was a
peculiar man in his appearance, exceedingly awkward and angular, a fact
which was made more marked by the odd clothing he wore. Disdaining
garments made from the skins of wild beasts, his clothes were of
woollen material, and made, too, after a fashion that in itself was
fearful and wonderful to behold. Even his cocked hat did not become him,
but in some way seemed to make more prominent his long nose, which was
covered with splotches of red, as were also his cheeks. That he was
earnest and deeply interested in his tasks no one denied. The prime
qualification for the work of the schoolmaster in that day, however,
consisted in the fact that he was very muscular and able to compel the
obedience of even the oldest boys in his school, who frequently were
tempted to pit their strength against his.
At the suggestion of the scout, a schoolhouse of logs was erected soon
after the coming of Master Hargrave. In this little schoolhouse there
was a fireplace, or chimney, which extended nearly across one entire end
of the building. When a huge log fire was burning there it sent out not
only its genial heat, but at frequent intervals with the changing winds
it drew clouds of smoke down the chimney and into the eyes of the
children that were seated on the rude benches. The little building was
equipped with more windows than the cabins which had been built for
dwellings. The windowpanes were of paper and made transparent by oiling
or greasing them.
Young Daniel Morgan Boone, the third son of Daniel, became a constant
companion of Peleg in the days that followed the return of the
emigrants. Daniel had begun to attend school as soon as the rude little
building was erected, and many of his experiences with the awkward
schoolmaster were gleefully related to Peleg, who now was no longer
counted a pupil of the master.
"Master Hargrave," said Daniel one day, "makes us learn many verses of
Scripture."
"Does he?" inquired Peleg.
"Indeed he does. To-day he gave us three: 'The rod and rule give
wisdom,' 'A rod fits a fool's back,' and 'He that spoils the rod is not
wise.'"
Peleg laughed and said: "I remember those verses myself. He taught them
to me. Does he rap your knuckles with his ferrule?"
"Sometimes he uses a ferrule, but more often he stands there by one of
the windows making a pen, and out of the corners of his eyes watches
every one of the eighteen scholars. He always has a stout hickory in his
hand or under his arm. The other day there was a disturbance on one of
the benches, and without waiting to find who was guilty he laid his
hickory across the backs of every one of us."
"So you have your share, too, do you?"
"Indeed I do. But the strangest part was day before yesterday, when
Schoolmaster Hargrave chased Return Sharp. Return would rather go
fishing or swimming or hunting any day than go to school. He says he
does not care for learning."
"He is a stout, burly fellow. I suppose a beating does not trouble him
much?"
"That's the strange part of it," laughed Daniel gleefully. "He doesn't
seem to mind one at all. The other afternoon when the boys had been
called in from recess, Return ducked around the corner of the house and
began to run. Master Hargrave spied him, and, spitting on both his
hands, he grasped his hickory and sallied forth to catch him. Return saw
him coming and took to his heels. Every one in the school was out there
in front of the schoolhouse watching the sport. We were ready to dodge
back into our seats, but we wanted to see the race."
"What did he do? Did the master get him?"
"Return took a circuit and started for the meadow, and in a little while
he was of course coming back toward the schoolhouse. Master Hargrave was
gaining upon him at every jump, and just as Return cleared the fence
Master Hargrave let him have it with the hickory. For once in his life
Return made haste, I can tell you. He was not very long in reaching the
ground from the top of that fence! The schoolmaster was on the other
side, and as he saw that all the scholars were watching him he jumped
over the fence and started after Return faster than ever. I would not
have believed that he could run so fast. Return looked back to see how
near the schoolmaster was, and just then he stumbled and fell, and
Master Hargrave was so close behind that he, too, stumbled over Return
and then tumbled to the ground. Return jumped up and took a back track,
but the Master was after him in a minute, and before he got halfway to
the schoolhouse he had caught up with him, and at every jump the master
also let him have it with the hickory. Return got the last love pat just
as he tumbled over the fence and crawled into the schoolhouse. We all
thought when the master came in that he would use his hickory on Return
plentifully, and also on all the rest of us; but for some strange reason
he seemed to have given Return all that he had to spare that day.
Strange how he seems to take delight in beating poor Return."
"He always took his whaling like an ox," laughed Peleg, "and grows fat
on it every day. I have marks yet on my knuckles that the schoolmaster
gave me."
"What are you doing?" demanded Daniel, apparently for the first time
becoming aware of Peleg's occupation.
"I am making a new stock for this rifle-barrel."
"The gun looks like it might kick," commented Daniel sagely, looking
critically at the rifle-barrel which was lying upon the rude little
bench at which Peleg was working.
"It would if a boy like you should try to use it."
Daniel laughed derisively and said: "Pray, Mr. Venerable Barnes, how
long since you were a boy yourself?"
"If you think you can fire this gun, I shall let you be the first one to
try it. I have it almost ready now, and all I have to do is to fit the
barrel into the stock----"
"Hello!" called Daniel, looking up sharply as he became aware of the
approach of a man on horseback. "This is some stranger. I wonder what he
can be wanting."
A visitor from any of the faraway settlements was a matter of moment,
and Peleg advanced to the door to see who the newcomer might be.
The man was a stranger to both boys. As soon as he spied the lads he
said, "Is Daniel Boone in this settlement?"
"He is, sir," answered Peleg promptly.
"Where can I find him? I would have word with him."
"Daniel, do you tell your father there is a gentleman here who desires
to speak to him."
"I am a messenger," spoke up the stranger, "a courier from Governor
Dunmore. 'Tis a matter of importance, and Mr. Daniel Boone will do well
to report promptly."
Peleg looked at the messenger, who was not much older than he. His air
of importance was not lost upon the young settler, who laughed slightly
when, after Daniel's departure in search of his father, he turned again
to the visitor.
"It is a great honour I have for Daniel Boone," suggested the courier.
"That depends somewhat, I fancy, upon who you are and what you have to
bring him."
"I have told you already that I am a messenger from Governor Dunmore. It
is meet in you, young man, to respect men who are high in authority."
"I do respect the Governor," said Peleg dryly.
"Then you should have respect for the Governor's messenger."
"I have respect for all who are respectable."
"What mean you by that?" demanded the visitor hotly; as he spoke he
leaped from the seat on the back of his horse and advanced threateningly
upon Peleg.
His attitude changed, however, when Peleg quietly stood his ground and
even slightly smiled at the pompous words and manner of the visitor.
The return of young Daniel Boone interrupted the interview.
"My father will be pleased to see you," said the lad, glancing
questioningly first at Peleg and then at the messenger.
"Of course he will see me," declared the courier. "Why did he not return
with you?"
"He is awaiting your coming and bade me conduct you to our home."
"Is it far from here?"
"No, sir"
"Very good. I shall be pleased to go with you and give my message to
Daniel Boone."
Peleg was an interested observer of the departing visitor, and his
interest would have been still keener had he known how much the message
from Governor Dunmore concerned his own future.