FIGHTING THE FLAMES
“Stop, you rascal, stop!”
Such was Harry’s exclamation as he saw the flare of fire and realized
what the person outside of the log cabin was bent upon doing.
He knew that the cabin was dry from the hot sun of the day before, and
that the timber, once started, would burn like tinder. Moreover, he
knew that to obtain sufficient water to put out such a conflagration
would be difficult.
Without stopping to think of possible peril, he leaped for the door and
threw it open.
In the dim moonlight he made out the form of a man running across the
dooryard to the nearest patch of timber.
“Stop!” he called loudly. “Stop, or I will fire on you!”
Instead of heeding the command the fellow ran faster than ever.
Up came Harry’s gun, and, taking a low aim at the retreating form, he
fired. A yell of pain followed, and he saw the man stagger and fall
headlong.
By this time the cabin was in an uproar, and Ezra Winship and Peter
Parsons came rushing from the bedroom, followed by Joe, and all leaped
for their guns, thinking that an attack by the Indians had been begun.
A moment later the girls and Mrs. Parsons followed, wrapped in such
garments as had been handy.
“Harry, who are you firing at?” demanded the youth’s father.
“Some rascal who set the cabin on fire,” was the answer. “Quick, get
some water, or the place will be burnt down!”
The others now saw the fire, which was burning fiercely in a heap
of pine brush stacked against the side of the cabin. Rushing for a
pitchfork, Ezra Winship threw the burning brush away from the building.
While this was being done Mr. Parsons and Joe hurried for buckets
of water from the spring. They had to work lively, for the flames
were creeping up the whole side of the log cabin toward the highly
inflammable roof.
“The house will be burnt down!” screamed Cora, while Harmony wrung her
hands in mute despair.
Mrs. Parsons was more practical, and, catching up a blanket, she
saturated it in a pail of water, and then began to beat out some of the
flames with this.
A few minutes of energetic work and the danger was over. But the smoke
filled the cabin, and all the windows and the two doors had to be
opened wide to clear the interior.
While this was being done, Harry, having slipped on some of his
clothes, ran forward to where the unknown had fallen. He was followed
by his father.
As they neared the spot they saw that the intruder was limping away,
casting anxious glances backward as he did so.
“Come back here!” cried Harry, raising his gun once more. “Come back
here, or I’ll give you another shot.”
Upon hearing this threat the unknown hesitated for an instant. Then he
dove into the bushes.
But Harry and Peter Parsons were too quick for the evildoer, and in a
moment more they were beside him, and each had a gun pointed at the
fellow’s head.
“Yellow Blanket!” exclaimed the young pioneer. “I suspected as much.”
“Is this the redskin who tried to rob you of the buck?” questioned Mr.
Parsons.
“The same, father. He got mad because Joe and I stopped him, and
because we took his arrows away and broke them up. He was going to
revenge himself by burning down our cabin.”
At these words Yellow Blanket scowled, but to them he made no reply.
Indeed, having been caught red-handed, as the saying is, it was
impossible for him to make any defense.
The Indian had been wounded in the right thigh, and was undoubtedly
suffering much pain. Regardless of this, however, he was made to march
back to the cabin and a rope was brought forth.
“We ought to shoot him on the spot, and have done with the viper,” said
Ezra Winship. “But we’ll be a little more merciful and merely make him
a prisoner. In the morning we can lay the case before Colonel Boone.”
The shot and the fire had aroused a number of the neighbors, and soon
several came to the place to learn the trouble. When they heard of
Yellow Blanket’s actions they were thoroughly enraged, and a number
wanted to kill the Indian immediately, but Ezra Winship told them of
what he had decided to do, and there the matter rested.
Daniel Boone came over himself at dawn, having just learned of the
affair.
“It was a dastardly piece of business,” said the great hunter. “And I
must say I didn’t think it of Yellow Blanket. He is a cur, but not so
cowardly as I imagined. We will march him over to the fort and see what
he has to say for himself.”
Colonel Boone’s orders were carried out, and the Indian was subjected
to a rigid examination, lasting fully an hour.
At first Yellow Blanket would not talk, but when he was given to
understand that he might suffer death for his crime he shrank back with
fear.
Then he begged Boone to spare him, and intimated that he could tell a
great deal concerning the raid on the late expedition to Boonesborough
if the great hunter would promise him his life and his liberty.
At first Daniel Boone was not inclined to listen to the rascal, but
he remembered how anxious Ezra Winship was concerning the whereabouts
of Mrs. Winship, and how much the Parsons were worried over the loss
of Clara Parsons, and he at last consented to be easy on the Indian
provided he would tell the plain truth.
“And remember,” he said, “I shall not let you go until I have proved
your words.”
Yellow Blanket then went into many details of the late raid. He said
that the news of the expedition had been brought in by Long Knife, and
that it was this chief who induced Red Feather to join in an attack
on the whites. Long Knife was particularly anxious to carry off some
pretty white maiden whom he might make his squaw. After the fight he
had tried to carry off Harmony Winship, but she had been rescued, and
Long Knife had been seriously wounded by some white person, the Indian
had supposed was Paul Broker, but who, later on, proved to be Joe
Winship, as already related.
“And what has become of Mrs. Winship and Clara Parsons?” questioned
Daniel Boone. “And of the other captives?”
“They are at the lodges of Long Knife, Leaping Waters, and Elk Head,”
answered Yellow Blanket. “But remember, the great hunter has promised
not to tell anybody that Yellow Blanket revealed this,” he added.
“Where are those lodges located?” went on Boone.
At this Yellow Blanket described the spot as best he could. It was a
place entirely new to Colonel Boone, and one not yet visited by any of
the settlers at Boonesborough.
“How long do they expect to stay at the lodges?” was Boone’s next
question.
Yellow Blanket could not answer definitely, but said he supposed they
would remain there during the winter, at least.
After the examination, the news the Indian had imparted was told to
Ezra Winship and Peter Parsons.
“If you wish you may head an expedition against the Indians,” said
Daniel Boone. “I would go myself, but at present that is impossible.
More settlers are coming in every day, as you can see, and Colonel
Henderson is anxious to open a regular land office and form a permanent
local government.”
What Boone said about new settlers was true. Nearly every day some
pioneers came straggling in, and once or twice a month a body of six or
eight families would appear. These settlers located at various points,
but all looked to the fort at Boonesborough for aid in time of peril.
A government was formed, which, though crude, succeeded in preserving
some sort of law and order. Various officers were elected, but the
majority of the settlers looked to Boone as their most reliable leader,
especially when dealing with the ever-present Indian question.
From Yellow Blanket it was learned that the Indians under Long Knife
and the other chiefs now amounted to perhaps a hundred all told. Of
these less than thirty were full-fledged warriors, the balance being
women, children, and old men incapable of fighting.
“Fifteen or twenty good shots ought to be able to whip them, and whip
them well,” said Ezra Winship to Peter Parsons.
“I believe you,” answered Mr. Parsons. “And if we can get together that
many pioneers I am willing to go out with you and see if we cannot
rescue my daughter and your wife, and also the other captives.”
It was no easy matter to find so many good shots willing to enlist for
the venture. Those who had members of their families missing were eager
enough, but others held back, saying that they must remain at home
to protect their own folks and provide food for the coming fall and
winter. Many had not yet built their cabins, having lived during the
summer under tents, and these felt that their first duty was to provide
suitable shelters against the snow and cold weather that was coming.
“We should have started sooner, when the feeling against the redskins
was more bitter,” said Peter Parsons. “Now the folks have grown
accustomed to what has been, and it doesn’t look so cruel to them.”
But he and Ezra Winship persisted, and at last they gathered together
seventeen men who were willing to undertake the trip. Of this number,
four were men who had lost various members of their families by death
during the raid, five, including Mr. Winship and Mr. Parsons, wanted to
find, if possible, relatives who were lost, and the others went merely
from a sense of duty, or for the excitement.
“We’ll teach ’em a lesson they won’t forgit in a hurry,” said old Pep
Frost, who was of the number. “We’ll come down on ’em like a reg’lar
hurricane, hear me!” The prospect just suited this man, and he went
around whistling gayly as though getting ready for a pleasure outing.
Joe and Harry had both begged hard for permission to go along, but
their fathers would not listen to their pleadings.
“I know you are brave enough to go, Joe,” said Mr. Winship. “But I want
you to remain behind and look out for Cora and Harmony.”
“And you, Harry, must look after your mother,” put in Peter Parsons.
“And, besides, both you boys want to prepare all the food you can for
the long winter that will soon be on us. If by some cause we do not
get back as soon as expected, we don’t want anybody here to starve to
death.”
“Ah, husband, if thee will take good care of thy body we will take
care of ours,” answered Mrs. Parsons. “And the same to thee, friend
Winship.”
“We’ll try to come back safe and sound,” answered Mr. Parsons. “And,
God willing, we will bring back the lost ones with us.”
The last night together in the log cabin was a sober one. Mrs. Parsons,
a truly good woman, insisted on holding a Quaker meeting, and she and
her husband prayed most earnestly for all present, that they might pass
through the coming months unharmed, and might at last come together
again with the lost ones with them.
The expedition started at sunrise. Joe and Harry saw them a mile or
more on the way. Then came a final handshake, and the expedition
continued on its way to the northwestward, while the two young pioneers
turned back toward the log cabin, never dreaming of all that was to
happen ere they should see their fathers again.