AN ERRAND OF MERCY.
Abner Stark, or Wolf Cap, was a man well known throughout Ohio and
Kentucky in the border days of which we write. Moody and sullen, but at
times possessed with a humor that seemed to reflect happier days; he was
cherished as a friend by the Wetzels, Boones, and Kentons of the early
west.
He had served as a scout under Harmar, St. Clair and Scott, and was
among the first to offer his valuable services to General Wayne.
It is needless to say that they were eagerly accepted, and in the
campaign of 1793 that witnessed the erection of forts Recovery and
Defiance, he had proved of great worth to the invaders.
Ten years prior to the date of our story the Shawnees, led by James
Girty, crossed the Ohio and fell like a pack of wolves upon Abner
Stark's Kentucky home.
The settler, as we have already heard him narrate to young Catlett, was
absent at the time, but returned to find his house in ashes, and the
butchered remains of his family among the ruins. He believed that all
had perished by the tomahawk and scalping knife.
By the hatchet buried in the tree which was wont to shade his home, he
recognized the leader of the murderous band. From the awful sight he
stepped upon the path of vengeance, and made his name a terror to the
Indians and their white allies.
His companion on the occasion described in the foregoing chapter, was a
young borderman who had distinguished himself in the unfortunate
campaign of '91. Handsome, cunning in woodcraft, and courageous to no
small degree, an expert swimmer and runner, Harvey Catlett united in
himself all the qualities requisite for the success of his calling. He
was trusted by Wayne, from whose camps he came and went at his pleasure,
questioned by no one, save at times, his friend Wolf Cap.
We have said that the singular reply given by Wolf Cap to the young
scout shortly after the meeting with Little Moccasin almost provoked a
laugh. The situation smacked of the ridiculous to the youthful borderer,
and the time and place alone prevented him from indulging his risibles.
But when he looked into the old scout's face and saw no humor there--saw
nothing save an unreadable countenance, his mirth subsided, and he
became serious again.
"We will not follow the subject further now," he said; "I want to talk
about something else--about something which I heard to-night."
His tone impressed Abner Stark, and he came to a halt.
"Well, go on, boy," he said, his hard countenance relaxing. "If you did
get any news out of _her_, tell it."
"The lives of some of our people are in danger," Catlett continued.
"Several days since a family named Merriweather embarked upon the Maumee
near its mouth. Their destination is Wayne's camp; they are flying to it
for protection."
"Straight into the jaws of death!"
"Yes, Wolf Cap. If they have not already fallen a prey to the savages,
they are struggling through the woods with their boats, which could not
stem the rapids."
"How many people are in the company?" Stark asked.
"Little Moccasin says eight."
"Women and children, of course?"
"Yes."
"And is this known by the Indians?"
"Unfortunately it is."
For a moment the avenger did not reply.
He appeared to be forming a plan for the safety of the imperilled
family, and the young scout watched him with much anxiety.
"I don't know the Merriweathers; never heard of them," Wolf Cap said,
looking up at last. "They are in great danger. There are women and
children among them. I had a family once. We must not desert the little
band that is trying to get behind Mad Anthony's bayonets. God forbid
that Abner Stark should refuse to protect the helpless from the
tomahawk."
"And here is one who is with you!" cried Harvey Catlett. "Let us go
now."
"Yes. We must not see Wayne before we have offered help to the
Merriweathers. Are we not near the tree?"
"Nearer than you think. Look yonder."
The speaker pointed to a tree whose great trunk was just discernible,
and the twain hastened toward it.
About six feet from the ground there was a hole large enough to admit a
medium sized hand, and Wolf Cap was not long in plunging his own into
its recesses.
He withdrew it a moment later with a show of disappointment.
"Nothin' from Wells and the same from Hummingbird," he said, turning to
Catlett.
"We are too soon, perhaps," was the answer.
"They will be here, then. We may need their assistance. Hummingbird or
Wells?"
"The first that comes."
"That will do. Write."
The young scout drew a small piece of paper from his bullet pouch, and
wrote thereon with a pointed stick of lead the following message:
"_To the first here_:
"We have gone down the Maumee to protect a white family flying
to Wayne. Follow us. No news."
The message was dropped in the forest letter box, and the disguised
scouts set out upon their errand of mercy and protection.
One behind the other, like the wily Indians whom they personated, they
traversed the forest, now catching a glimpse of the starlit waters of
the Maumee, and now wrapped in the gloom of impenetrable darkness.
Not a word was spoken. Now and then an ear was placed upon the earth to
detect the approach of an enemy should any be lurking near their path.
With the woodman's practiced care they gave forth no sound for listening
savages, and with eager hopes continued to press on.
The tree, with its silent call for help, was soon left behind, and the
scouts did not dream that the robber was near.
Not long after their departure from the spot, a figure halted at the
tree, and a dark hand dropped into the letter box. With almost devilish
eagerness the fingers closed upon the paper that lay at the bottom of
the hole, and drew it out.
"A paper at last," said the man in triumphant tones. "I knew I would
find it sometime."
The next moment the thief hurried towards the river with the scouts'
message clutched tightly in his hand.
Wolf Cap and Harvey Catlett would have given much for that man's scalp,
for at the time of which we write he was the dread of every woman and
child in the Northwestern Territory.
His name was James Girty, and his deeds excelled in cruelty his brother
Simon's.