THE HIDDEN CANOE
While Sam Oliver had been gone to the fort to secure a few of his
comrades to accompany him, the young Indian, or white, or white
Indian--Peleg was uncertain to which class his visitor really
belonged--entered with apparent confidence into conversation with the
young scout. In his broken English he related many things concerning the
life which he had lived in the wigwam of his foster father.
Peleg was impressed by the increasing facility with which the white
Shawnee, as the young brave preferred to call himself, was using the
language of the whites.
It may have been that the words he now heard recalled to his mind
expressions which had almost faded from his memory. At all events he
talked more freely and with an increasing ability to express himself.
"Me fader hear owl cry. He know from strange cry that some die or be
pris'ner. He old man. He 'fraid. He say go back up river. Me broder he
say no. Me say no. Me fader still 'fraid, but he keep him promise."
"What was his promise?" inquired Peleg.
"He say he take us on warpath to help keep palefaces from going into
Kantuckee. He no wan' go, but he say he go. We all lie down sleep.
Pretty quick me fader wake up. Me fader wake me broder. Wake me, too."
"What was the trouble?" asked Peleg.
"Me fader have sleep and see----"
"What do you mean, he had a dream?"
"That so," replied the visitor, nodding his head. "Me fader have dream."
"What did he dream?"
"He say we go to Kantuckee, we die. Me fader cry. He no wan' go on
warpath."
"But you came," suggested Peleg.
His visitor nodded and continued: "Me fader say he keep him promise. But
he say more. He say we go back to wigwam. Go quick. He good man. Heap
good man. He keep him promise. Me broder say me fader mus' keep him
promise now."
"So you came?"
"We go on warpath. Me fader say he go quick. No stay any more where we
sleep."
"So you started right away, did you?"
"We go on warpath all night. When light come we turn to place where
white man build fort."
"Are there many Shawnees here?"
The young visitor, nodding, said: "Pretty quick, heap Shawnee come."
He held up three and then four fingers to express the idea that the
Indian bands were advancing in parties of three or more, and at some
prearranged place or by some well-known signals the scattered little
parties would be brought together and one large band formed.
The information was startling to the young scout and seemed to him to be
altogether probable. It was in accordance with the well-known methods of
Indian fighting, and agreed with experiences which the young hunter
already had had.
He deeply regretted the absence of the great leader. The gentleness and
firmness, the courage and resource of Daniel Boone would be greatly
needed if the Shawnees attacked the little fort. Boone, however, was not
near and his help could not be relied upon.
Meanwhile Peleg was awaiting the return of Sam Oliver. He was well aware
of the excellent qualities which the hunter possessed, and he was
familiar also with the intense bitterness with which Sam looked upon the
Indians. For him they possessed no good qualities. They were simply
enemies of the whites and to be exterminated like the rattlesnake and
the panther. He recognized no feeling of patriotism on their part, and,
because the method of their warfare was cruel, he judged their motives
accordingly.
"Me no wan' go where canoe is," said the young brave earnestly. "Me love
Shawnee fader. Me no betray him. Him good man. Me fader kind to me. No
wan' him lose scalp."
"It is too bad," acknowledged Peleg. He was distressed by the fear that
Sam Oliver and his companions would have little mercy upon the Indian
father to whom they were compelling the young man to conduct them. In
his heart there was a desire to help the young stranger who had felt the
call of his own people so strongly that he had even deserted the family
which had cared for him since his early childhood.
Peleg's thoughts were interrupted by the return of the hunter and four
of his comrades. It was evident that all five were suspicious of
treachery, and also that they were determined to put the strange
visitor's words to the test.
"Now, then!" ordered Sam, as he turned sharply upon the white Shawnee.
"You take us straight to that place where you say your canoe was hid."
Apparently unmoved by the brutal demand, the young visitor answered, "Me
no wan' you hurt me fader. Him good fader. Him take care me."
"Why didn't you stay with him then?" laughed Sam.
"Me wan' see white fader's people, too. Me wan' find white moder's
people," said the visitor simply.
"You will have time enough to look them up after we have found out
whether you are telling us the truth or not," declared Sam. "I have my
suspicions that you are trying to get us into some trap, and as I told
you before, if you are I shall fill you full of lead the first thing. If
I find you are trying to trap us, you cannot complain if I do just what
I tell you I shall do."
"Me no wan' go," repeated the young man.
"You are going whether you want to go or not," retorted Sam Oliver
brutally. "Are you coming with us, Peleg?" he inquired, turning to the
young scout.
"I am," said Peleg quietly. He had made his decision instantly in his
desire to protect or help the young visitor, whose suffering in the
prospect of being compelled to betray his father had deeply stirred the
heart of the young hunter. Aware that there was no escape from the
demand, the white Shawnee turned and led the way into the forest.
The men who were following him were continually alert, suspicious as
they were of the treachery of their guide, and fearful of the presence
of other Shawnees in the forest through which they were moving.
The confidence of Sam Oliver, who followed close upon the heels of the
stranger, in a measure strengthened the courage of his followers.
Peleg, who was next behind the leader, was as observant of the hunter as
he was of the signs in the woods. He was convinced, too, that the young
stranger was using time either to delay his followers or to give them an
opportunity to abandon their demand for him to be false to the
foster-father who had cared for him since his childhood.
If such thoughts had been in the mind of the young white Shawnee they
were not expressed and certainly were not fulfilled. There was no
escaping the demands of Sam Oliver and his companions.
At last, when an hour or more had elapsed, the guide stopped and,
raising his hand in token of silence, in a low voice explained that they
were approaching the tree in which the iron kettle had been concealed.
Instantly the demeanour of the settlers changed and they began to creep
forward more stealthily. Every man was alert to discover the presence of
the Indian who still might be near the place where the kettle had been
hidden.
After a few moments Peleg perceived two Indians not far before him.
Both were seated before a fire cooking some venison. One of the warriors
was an old man and his companion not much more than a boy.
The guide discovered the two Indians at the same time that Peleg did and
instantly he became greatly agitated. Once more he turned to Sam Oliver
and in low tones begged him not to kill the man who had been his
foster-father nor the other who had been his foster-brother.
"Sam," whispered Peleg, "it will be better for us just to make prisoners
of these two men. I think we ought to do this. The boy plainly has
spoken the truth. He did not want to betray his father and his brother,
and you and I cannot blame him. Take both the Indians prisoners, but do
not fire upon them."
Aware that Sam was somewhat moved by his plea, Peleg repeated his
request more urgently and was almost as relieved as the guide when at
last Sam reluctantly consented.
In accordance with the directions of the hunter the band scattered to
surround the place where the two unsuspecting Indians were cooking their
dinner. When all the preliminaries had been completed, Sam Oliver
stepped forward and in his loudest tones demanded the surrender of both
men. At the same time his companions darted forward, making a rush upon
the unarmed warriors.
To the surprise of every one, the old Indian made a desperate
resistance. With an almost incredible quickness the Indian boy dodged
his enemies and escaped to the forest. The old man, apparently striving
to hold back the attacking party, resisted to the utmost of his strength
until in his rage Sam Oliver raised his rifle to his shoulder and shot
him.
The recent guide, when he saw his foster-father fall, instantly rushed
to the spot where the old man was lying. The aged warrior was bleeding
profusely, but he was still conscious. Flinging himself upon the ground
beside the prostrate body, with the tears streaming down his cheeks and
his voice broken by sobs, again and again the white Shawnee spoke to the
aged warrior. Even Sam Oliver was silent as he saw the grief of their
guide.
His companions indifferently watched the bereaved boy, but Peleg looked
away when he saw the old man raise his hand feebly and place it upon the
head of his adopted son. It was a token of his forgiveness, although his
few words were not understood by the listening group. The meaning of the
act, however, was clear to every one.
Soon the old warrior breathed his last, and as soon as Sam Oliver was
aware that the end had come his sympathy speedily departed. Turning
once more to the guide and ignoring the grief of the boy, he roughly
said: "Now take us where that canoe is buried. The other Indian has got
away from us, and he will probably make straight for the canoe. You lead
us there about as fast as you can travel and we will try to head him off
before he can go down the river!"
In broken utterances the young white Shawnee begged the hunter not to
enforce this last demand. "Me show where me fader was. Me fader dead. Me
no show where broder is. Me wan' broder escape. No go broder! No go
broder!" he besought the hunter earnestly.
Sam Oliver, however, was not to be turned from his decision. "You go
with us or I shall make you!" he said, and in spite of Peleg's protests
he turned the young guide's face to the forest and with many threats
compelled him to lead the way.
Two hours elapsed before they came near the place where the canoe had
been buried. Creeping cautiously among the trees, the settlers came
within rifle shot of the spot, and as they peered keenly about them no
one at first was able to discover the presence of the young Indian.
By the direction of Oliver every man remained in his hiding-place
waiting for the arrival of the Indian boy, who, Sam was convinced, would
soon come to the place. This expectation was fulfilled, as in about ten
minutes the young Indian appeared and started to the sandy shore of the
river.
Without hesitation he proceeded to the spot where the canoe had been
hidden and, as he began to dig the sand, the hunter ordered his
companions to fire upon him. The reports of the five rifles rang out
together.
The young Shawnee leaped high into the air and fell dead upon the sand.
Doubtless he never knew of the unwilling treachery of his foster-brother
by which he and his father had lost their lives.