Produced by Curtis Weyant, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE RANGER
OR
THE FUGITIVES OF THE BORDER
BY EDWARD S. ELLIS
AUTHOR OF "OONOMOO," "SET JONES," "IRONA," ETC.
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
COPYRIGHT, 1911,
BY
HURST & COMPANY.
[Illustration: "Hold! You strike the white man's friend!"]
CONTENTS.
I. Zeb and his Master
II. The Night of Terror
III. Kent and Leslie
IV. The Captives
V. The Meeting on the River
VI. The Raft
VII. Lost and Found
VIII. The Companion in Captivity
IX. Zeb's Revenge
X. The Brief Reprieve
XI. A Friend
XII. Escape
XIII. The Captive
XIV. The Rescue
XV. The Fugitives Flying no Longer
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
"Hold! You strike the white man's friend!"
George and Rosalind
"Them varmints," said he, "are playing particular devil in these parts"
There were two horses in the party, and upon one of these Rosalind had
been placed
"Ready," whispered Leslie, "you take the nearest one."
"You shoot Indian, eh?" said one, brandishing his knife at the same time
The savages were amusing themselves by ascertaining who could send his
tomahawk nearest the body of their captive without touching him
"Does the maiden remember Pequanon?"
Two savages were left on shore
"Yonder is something approaching."
KENT, THE RANGER.
CHAPTER I.
ZEB AND HIS MASTER.
At the southern part of Ohio, where the river of that name swerves from
its south-western course, and makes a sweeping bend toward the
north-west, many years ago stood a large and imposing dwelling. Its
character, so different and superior to others found here and there
along the Ohio, showed that its owner must have been a man both of
superior taste and abundant means. It had been built by Sir William
Leland, who had emigrated from Europe with his young wife, and erected a
home in the western wilderness. Here they lived a goodly number of days;
and when, at last, they took their departure within a year of each
other, they left behind them a son and daughter to cherish and inherit
their home.
George Leland, at the time of which we speak, was but twenty, while his
sister Rosalind was three years his junior. Yet both, with the
assistance of a faithful negro servant, managed to live quite
comfortably. The soil was exceedingly rich, and, with a little pains,
yielded abundantly every thing that could be wished, while the river and
wood were unfailing resources. Three years had elapsed since the elder
Leland's death, and during that time, although living in a country
swarming with Indians, nothing had occurred to alarm the fears of our
friends, or even to give them the slightest suspicion that danger
threatened them.
[Illustration: George and Rosalind.]
When Sir William settled in this section, he followed the example of the
great founder of Pennsylvania, and purchased every foot of his land from
those who claimed it; and, in addition to the liberal remuneration which
each received, they were given some charming present by their pale-faced
brother. This secured their friendship; and, although many miles
intervened between the whites and their nearest kindred, yet they had
nothing to fear from the savages who surrounded them. Thus matters stood
when George and Rosalind were left orphans, some years before the
opening of our story.
It was a pleasant day in early summer that George and his sister were
seated in front of their house. The sun was just setting, and they had
remained thus a long time. Zeb, the negro, was absent for the time, and
they were thus undisturbed.
"Do you really think," pursued the sister, "it can be true that the
Indians have perpetrated the outrages which have been reported?"
"I should be glad to think differently, could I have reason for doing
so; but these reports certainly have foundation; and what is more
alarming, the suspicion that we are _not_ safe, which was awakened some
time ago, is now confirmed. For two or three days I have detected
suspicious appearances, and Zeb informed me that he discovered a couple
of savages lurking around the edge of the forest. I fear there is strong
reason to apprehend danger."
"But, brother, will not the kindness which our parents showed them while
living be a guaranty of our protection?"
"It may, to some extent; but you must remember that there are hundreds
of Indians who have never seen or heard of them, who would not hesitate
to kill or take us prisoners at the first opportunity."
"Can it be possible?"
"It is not only possible but true. You remember Roland Leslie, who was
here last summer? Yesterday I saw him up the river, and he gave me the
information that I have repeated. At first I deferred mentioning it to
you, for the reason that I did not wish to alarm you until it could not
be avoided."
"Why did he not come here?" asked the sister.
"He said that he should shortly visit us. He had heard rumors of
another massacre some miles up the river, and wished to satisfy himself
in regard to it before calling here. Leslie, although young, is an
experienced hunter and backwoodsman, and I have not much fear for his
personal safety. He assured me that, should he find the Indians above
ravaging the country as fearfully as reported, he would immediately
return to us."
"I hope so," earnestly replied Rosalind.
"Still," continued George, "what can we do, even then? He intends to
bring a hunter back with him, and that will make only three of us
against perhaps a thousand savages."
"But have we not the house to protect us?"
"And have they not the forest? Can they not lurk around until we die of
hunger, or until they fire the building? There are a hundred
contingencies that will bar an escape, while I confess no prospect of
getting safely away presents itself."
"We have arms and ammunition," said Rosalind. "Of course Leslie and his
friend are good marksmen, and why can we not do enough to deter and
intimidate the savages? Finding us well prepared, they will doubtless
retreat and not disturb us again. I hope the trouble will soon be over."
"I _hope_ so too; but it is hoping against hope. This war will be a long
and bloody one, and when it is over the country will present a different
appearance. Many lives must be lost ere it is done, and perhaps ours are
among that number."
"Perhaps so, brother; but do not be so depressed. Let us hope and pray
for the best. It is not such a sad thing to die, and the country which
has given us birth has certainly a strong claim upon us."
"Noble girl," exclaimed George, "it is so, and we have no cause for
murmuring."
At this moment Zeb appeared. He was a short, dumpy, thick-set negro,
with a most luxuriant head of wool, a portion of which hung around his
head in small, close braids, resembling bits of decayed rope. His eyes
were large and protruding, and his face glistened like a mirror. He was
a genuine African. Some of their qualities in him were carried to the
extreme. Instead of being a coward, as is often the case with his
nation, he seemed never to know when there really was danger. He always
was reckless and careless, and seemed to escape by accident.
"Heigh! massa George, what's up?" he exclaimed, observing the solemn
appearance of the two before him.
"Nothing but what is known to you, Zeb. We were just speaking of the
danger which you are aware is threatening us. Have you seen anything
lately to excite suspicion?"
"Nothin' worth speakin' of," replied he, seating himself in front of
George and Rosalind.
"What was it, Zeb?" asked the latter.
"When I's out tendin' to things, I t'ought as how I'd sit down and rest,
and 'cordin'ly I squats on a big stone. Purty soon de stone begin to
move, and come to look, 'twas a big Injin.
"'Heigh!' says I, 'what you doin' here?'
"'Ugh!' he grunted.
"'Yes, I'll "ugh!" you,' says I, 'if I cotches you here ag'in.' With dat
I pitches him two, free rods off, and tells him to make tracks fur
home."
"Heavens! if you would only tell the truth, Zeb. Did you really see an
Indian, though?"
"'Deed I did, and he run when he see'd me in arnist."
"And you saw others yesterday, did you?" remarked Rosalind.
"Two or free, down toward de woods. I spied 'em crawlin' and smellin'
down dar, and axes dem dar business. Dey said as how dey's lookin' for a
jack-knife dat dey lost dar last summer. I told 'em dat dey oughter be
'shamed demselves to be smellin' round dat way; and to provide against
dar doin's in future, I give dem each a good kick and sent dem away."
"Do not exaggerate your story so much," said Rosalind. "Give the truth
and nothing else."
"Qua'r, folks won't believe all dis pusson observes," said he, with an
offended air.
"Tell the truth and they will in all cases; but should you deceive once,
you will always be suspected afterward."
"Dat's it," commenced the negro, spreading out his broad hand like an
orator to illustrate the point. "If I tells de truf dey're sure to t'ink
I's lyin', and what's de use?"
"Zeb," commenced George, not regarding the last remark, "you, as well as
we, are aware that we are encompassed by peril. You have seen that the
Indians are constantly prowling around, and evidently for no good
purpose. What would you advise us to do under the circumstances?"
"Give 'em all a good floggin' and set 'em to work," he replied.
"Come, come, Zeb, we want no jesting," interrupted Rosalind.
"Dar 'tis ag'in. Who war jestin'? Dat's what I t'ink is de best. Give
'em a good lickin', and set 'em to work clearin' off de wood till dar
spunk is gone."
"Fudge!" said George, impatiently, turning his back toward Zeb, whose
head ducked down with a chuckle.
"Rosalind," said George, "the best plan is certainly to wait until
Leslie returns, which will be either to-morrow or the next day. We will
then determine upon what course to pursue. Perhaps we shall be
undisturbed until that time. If not, it cannot be helped."
"Wished dis pusson warn't so hungry," remarked Zeb, picking up a stick
and whittling it.
Rosalind smiled as she arose and remarked:
"It is getting late, George, and it perhaps is best to have supper."
He made no answer and turned toward the negro.
"Zeb," said he, "in all probability we shall be obliged to leave this
place in a few days for a safer location. Of course you will accompany
us, and I wish it to be understood that you are to lay aside this levity
and carelessness. Remember that you are in danger, as much as ourselves.
Your scalp may be the first taken."
"What, dis yere wool of mine? Yah! yah! yah! Lord bless you, dey'd have
a handful!"
"How would you relish being roasted at the stake?" asked George, hoping
to terrify him.
"Yah! yah! Dey'd be some sizzlin', I guess."
"You will think soberly about the matter, perhaps sooner than you
suspect."
"Yas," said Zeb, and his face straightened out in an instant, while he
slowly and thoughtfully continued whittling.
"Zeb," continued George, leaning toward him and speaking in an
undertone, "I think we shall be attacked in two days at the latest."
"Jest keep de whip in good order, and I'll put it into 'em and teach 'em
manners."
"I fear you will learn wisdom only by experience, even if you do then,"
returned George. "It would be a good thing for you, should you meet with
something that would impress you with a sense of your peril. I can only
wonder at your stupidity."
"Gorra mighty! do you s'pose dere's anything that'd make _me_ afeard of
dem Injins? Why, bless you, forty of 'em wouldn't dare to frow a stone
at me. I've licked free, four dozen of 'em, and dey all respect me
awful."
"I suppose so," rejoined young Leland, with mock seriousness.
"Last summer," pursued Zeb, "when you's down de river fishin', dere's
thirteen of 'em come up one day to borrer de wood-box. I s'pose dey
wanted to keep dar dogs and pappooses in it, and I 'cluded as how dey
warn't gwine to get it. So I told 'em I's very sorry dat I couldn't
'commodate 'em, but de fact war we wanted to put de wood in it
ourselves. When I said dat, one of de niggers begin to got sassy. I just
informed 'em dat dey'd better make demselves scarce mighty quick, if dey
didn't want dis pusson in dar wool. Dey didn't mind what was said,
howsumever, and purty soon I cotched 'em runnin' off wid de wood-box.
Dat raised my dander, and I grabbed de box and frowed it right over dar
heads and cotched 'em fast. Den I put a big stone on it, and kept 'em
dere free weeks, and afore I let 'em out I made 'em promise to behave
'emselves. Now I considers dat we'd better serve 'em some sich trick.
Tie two, free hundred to de fence, and leave 'em dere for a few months."
"You are welcome to try it," returned George, rather disgusted at the
negro's propensity for big story telling. He arose and passed within,
where the ample table was laid. Yet he could not eat the plain, sweet
food which Rosalind's own hands had prepared. The dreadful sense of
danger was too real a guest for any rest or peace of mind.