The Pioneer Boys on the Great Lakes; or, On the Trail of the Iroquois

CHAPTER VIII SIMON KENTON, THE BORDERER CHAPTER VIII SIMON KENTON, THE BORDERER When the boys returned to the settlement, bringing with them the buck, and accompanied by Simon Kenton and his two companions, they were warmly greeted. The story of how Sandy had braved the three crafty French trappers soon went abroad, and many congratulated the boy on his firm stand. They knew well that it was this secret French influence which was doing so much to make the Indians dig up the hatchet that had been buried at the treaty of Fort Stanwix some years previous; and in every breast existed the same detestation for the cowardly traders who, for the sake of gain, would encourage the savages to resort once more to the torch, and the murderous tomahawk. Several men vanished from the post shortly after the boys returned. It was suspected that they had banded together with the idea of pursuing the trio of Frenchmen, and putting it out of their power to carry their news to other Indian villages; for Pat O'Mara, who was one of this band, declared it to be his belief that these men were messengers, sent to bear the wampum belt of the great leader, Pontiac, to chiefs who were even then hesitating over what to do. The men came back on the next day, and, while none of them would say a word about the result of their mission, it was not believed that success had followed them, for they exhibited no symptoms of satisfaction. Simon Kenton was a great favorite in this Ohio River settlement. As the boon companion of the leading pioneer he would have been warmly welcome; but, besides that, he had such a genial nature that he made friends wherever he went. Contact with Daniel Boone was also doing wonders for this fine young borderer. By slow degrees he was conquering his numerous faults in the line of hasty temper, and quick action, that in the past had brought him so much trouble. His place among the men of the early days along the great river has long been recognized in history. While he lacked some of the wonderful qualities that made Boone beloved among the whites, and both feared and respected by the Indians, still Kenton has always held a strong place in the affection of those who know the wonderful exploits with which his life was crowned. Although Kenton was possessed of a particularly amiable disposition among his friends, it is likely that his equal for recklessness was never known. History tells us that, during the course of his adventurous life along the border with Boone, and alone, he many times fell into the hands of the Indians, though they seemed unable to hold so slippery a customer. Eight times he was condemned to run the gauntlet, always one of the most cruel of the Indian inventions of horror; three times was he tied to the stake, sentenced to be burned alive; and once he was nearly slain by an ax. And yet, in spite of all these things, Simon Kenton lived to a green old age, dying in 1836 within sight of the very spot where the Indians, fifty-eight years before, had made preparations to torture him to death. ( Note 3. ) While at the settlement of our friends Kenton and his two comrades made their headquarters in an empty cabin, deserted by a settler who had gone back to the fair fields of Virginia because his wife grieved for her family, and was too timid to stay where at any hour they could expect to hear the wild whoops of hostile Indians. Of course, as soon as it could be done in secret, the head men of the settlement sought to find out from Kenton whether the news brought by Pat O'Mara was founded on facts, or the result of a lively imagination. "I have been in the eastern country," replied the forest ranger, seriously; "and can only say this, that thar are all the signs of a big outbreak. Down in Kentucky Boone has had to be on the defensive all the time, because the Shawanees did not feel themselves bound by the Fort Stanwix treaty. My friends, I regret to say to you that the outlook is dark. Be on your guard. If this winter passes without a general war on the part of half a dozen tribes, some of us will believe that we are poor prophets." And, later on, he told in detail what he and his friends had seen and heard. The news was distressing to these people, so many hundreds of miles away from help, and dependent on themselves alone to combat the gathering clouds. But there were brave hearts among those early pioneers. Even the women refused to believe that they were to be overwhelmed, and made to perish from the face of the earth. From such stock have our forefathers sprung, and, looking back, we have need of every adjective at our command to express admiration for the valor of these Ohio pioneers. David Armstrong felt that he had much to be thankful for in those days. His wife and little family were in perfect health; but there was one thing that seemed to be giving the pioneer anxiety. Never did any one come from over the distant mountains but that Mr. Armstrong was eagerly inquiring whether the newcomer carried a letter for him. Thus far disappointment had always been his portion; yet, after each period of deep despondency, he would once more pick up fresh hope, and it was usually the brave soul of his gentle wife that put new ambitions in his breast. Years ago in Richmond, Mr. Armstrong had been tricked by a cousin, in whom he placed implicit confidence. The result had been that this rascal had virtually stolen all of Mr. Armstrong's heritage, which he had brought from the old country. David had gone to law about it, but, even in this early day, the delays were most vexatious; and for years had the case been pending. Mr. Armstrong never lost hope that, in the end, it would be decided in his favor, and that he would be summoned to Richmond to take back that which had been fraudulently wrested from his hands. He indulged in many rosy-tinted dreams of what wonderful things he would bring back with him, to add to the happiness of his little brood, should such a wonderful piece of good luck come his way. Mary and he had decided that they liked this beautiful country too well to ever return again to Virginia. Come what would, they belonged here on the river that flowed between forest-clad banks into the golden west. Pat O'Mara still hung about the settlement, though at any time he was apt to disappear. While present, he made his home with the Armstrongs, and there never was a more welcome guest at a pioneer's cabin than the Irish trapper with these good friends. Bob and Sandy took him over the line of their traps, and learned many clever little tricks that would count when the real time came for taking fur-bearing animals. Up to now their efforts in that line had been more in the way of experiments, so as to get used to handling traps, and keeping the sly little animals from scenting the presence of human beings around their haunts. Kenton and his friends had gone on their way. They were really scouting, in the hope and expectation of learning something about the anticipated Indian uprising, so that the weaker settlements could withdraw in time to more secure quarters; for the winter, at least, combining with stronger posts. "I wanted father to let me go with Simon Kenton," said Sandy, despondently, the day after the departure of the frontiersman. "But of course he refused," said Bob, quickly; "and rightly, too. You are too young to be wandering around the country as he does, Sandy; and think, what would mother do without you? It's all well enough for Kenton, who is a man full grown, and has no home. You belong here, Sandy, with us. How could I attend to all the traps, and hunt in the bargain, without you? I am glad father said no; glad for my own sake, glad for mother, and glad for you, too." The reference to his mother touched the heart of impulsive Sandy. "Well," he said, slowly, "I guess it is best I stay for another year or so, anyway; but, some day, I'm going to follow in the footsteps of Simon Kenton." Bob said no more, knowing the nature of his brother only too well, and by another day Sandy had apparently quite gotten over his grieving. September was now moving along very fast, and, almost before they would be aware of it, the great forest trees must be taking on the red and gold of autumn hues, as the first frost came down from the north. Each time the boys went out they set another trap, until the entire number they owned were in use. The prospect ahead looked rosy, indeed, if only that story in connection with the threatened Indian war could be forgotten. Sometimes it came to Bob in the dead of night, to cause him more or less grave thought, for his was a nature unlike Sandy's lighthearted one; and, before Pat O'Mara departed, he had once more impressed upon the older lad the necessity for unusual care in making their rounds of the traps, or venturing into the surrounding forest in search of game. And, on this night in question, it seemed to Bob that he awoke from a very vivid dream, in which the settlement was being attacked by countless painted Indians. So startling an effect did the dream have upon him that he even sat up on his cot and listened, as though he half expected to hear the distant yells of dancing red men as they surrounded the stockade. All seemed still, however, and Bob was about to drop back again when, glancing in the direction of the little window, he was surprised to find that a flickering glow came and went, as though a fire might be burning without. Hastily the boy crept from under his covers, and went over to open the door, in order to thrust his head outside; but, hardly had he done this, than he received a shock that dazed him, for he discovered that the entire side of the cabin was in flames! CHAPTER IX THE MOCCASIN TRACKS THAT TOED-IN " Fire! " Wildly Bob gave tongue, as he managed to draw on his garments. The whole of the cabin's inmates appeared on the scene in answer to his cries, and all of them filled with the gravest apprehensions. There was no need to ask questions, for Bob had flown out of the door, leaving it open behind him. "Get buckets, and dip into the barrel!" shouted Mr. Armstrong. Already had Bob started his work against the devouring flames, which were licking up the side of the cabin, as though bent on destroying the weeks of work on the part of the pioneers, in this one dreadful half-hour. Even Kate helped, finding some sort of pan in which she could carry water, and dash it on the burning logs. Bob quickly saw that the barrel would soon be exhausted at this rate. They must have a further supply of water if they hoped to battle successfully with the greedy flames. "Come with me to the spring, Sandy!" he cried huskily. "We must have more water! This way, Mr. Brewster, with your bucket! And please run with all your might!" A neighbor had arrived on the scene, for the cries of the family as they fought the devouring element had been heard, and there was no need to ask what had happened, since the flames could be seen for some distance. Mr. Brewster had come up with his musket in one hand, and an empty bucket gripped in the other. Thus he was prepared for almost anything that might arise, for, with all this talk of an Indian uprising in the air, it was only natural that he might suspect there would be need for the firearm as well as the wooden pail. The three hastened to the spring, in order to secure a further addition to the supply of water. Before they had gone half way another figure showed up, being a second neighbor who, like Mr. Brewster, had come prepared to cope with any emergency. He joined the procession of runners; and in this order they arrived at the spring, which was located about eighty yards from the Armstrong cabin, and used by several families in common. Fortunately it was of some depth, so that quite a pool formed at its "run-off." Here they filled their buckets, and started back just as fast as they could go without spilling the contents. Others began to arrive, for, as the clamor increased, every cabin in the settlement yielded up its quota of eager assistants. In a little community like this, where hundreds of miles separated them from civilization, with untold perils surrounding them, the interest of one must ever be the interest of all. They knew not what terrible danger might be abroad; but, with the bold spirit that marked the early pioneer, they sallied forth to grapple with whatever threatened. And these men did yeoman service. Some slapped at the creeping flames with garments that had been saturated with water; others beat frantically with branches and bushes; while the few who had means for carrying water dashed this natural enemy of fire on the flames. Thus it was only a short time before they got the fire under control, for many hands made light work. Some damage had been done, it is true, and Mr. Armstrong would have to do more or less repairing to his cabin ere it would be in as good shape as before the fire. Still, he and his good wife felt that they had much for which to be grateful. "How did it start?" asked old Anthony Brady. There was latent suspicion in his voice, for he had seen that the fire had all been on the outside, which would indicate that it certainly could not have started in the interior from a smouldering brand falling beyond the hearth, such as had been the case in one other alarm they had had earlier in the season, before the cool nights had gone. "I think I can make a guess," remarked Mr. Brewster, who had also been looking about while actively engaged in fighting the devouring element. "You can see that it was on the side where Mrs. Armstrong has her soap-kettle. She must have left a bed of red ashes after rendering down the bear fat with the lye, and, during the night, the wind swept some of these against the logs. Perhaps there was a handful of dead leaves to act as tinder; and the rest came easy." "But," said Bob's mother, quickly, "I did not have a fire under the soap-kettle yesterday, nor the day before. Indeed, it is a full week now since I used it." The men looked quickly at one another. They realized now that there might be something more about this midnight burning than any of them had ventured to imagine. Log cabins do not take fire so easily, in the middle of the night, without some human agency back of the catastrophe. "Come," said Anthony Brady, hoarsely, "this must be looked into. If some wicked person put the torch to this cabin, we ought to find out who he was, and punish him accordingly." By this time there were fully a dozen men around, and nearly all of them carried guns of some pattern, either the long rifles of the day, or muskets that at close quarters were just as deadly. Stern faces grew even more set as they heard their leader thus declare himself. If a house-burner were abroad, then he must surely belong to one of two species—for they could not imagine any but a sneaking Indian, or a malicious French trapper, doing so mean a deed. Several of the most expert trailers began to circle around at some little distance from the cabin. They carried either rude horn lanterns, or else burning torches of fat pine, with which each cabin was usually well supplied, since candles were not plentiful in those days, and had to be made, like the soap, from the surplus fat taken from some bear that had been secured for food. Bob and Sandy came together while thus employed. "Did you hear what old Reuben Jacks said, Bob?" asked the older boy, meaningly. "You mean about that Frenchman, Armand Lacroix?" the other lad replied. "Yes," Sandy went on, eagerly; "they hunted for him high and low, but without success. Reuben believes that he, or one of his men, must have done this out of revenge, because we defied him and took away the buck when he had declared he meant to possess it." "It may be so," Bob observed, thoughtfully. "I have heard so much about the treachery and trickery of those traders from the north, that I would not think it beyond one of them to try and burn a cabin in the night. That man hates us both, and you particularly, because of the way you held your gun at his head. I shall never forget how his black eyes glittered as he looked at you on leaving. It was as if he wanted to remember you for years to come." "Listen! some one is calling!" exclaimed Sandy just then. "It is old Reuben Jacks, and he has made some sort of discovery; or else he would not lift his cracked voice in that shrill way. Come, Sandy, let us run thither, and see what it may be." The two boys, both of whom were now carrying their guns, even though but partly dressed, made a dash toward the spot where the shouts went up. They overtook several others; and in another minute quite a group had gathered around the figure of the gaunt old woodranger. "What is it, Reuben; what have you found to give tongue that way?" demanded Anthony Brady, with authority in his heavy voice. "Look, neighbors!" said the other, pointing down toward his feet. "Footprints leading away from the cabin!" exclaimed one. "And made by an Injun, too, for the toes turn in!" came from another. "Reuben, you have made a valuable discovery," Brady remarked, after he had himself bent over to examine the footprints in the soft soil, which the keen and practised eye of the old man had detected. "An Indian has been here after night set in; for you all remember there was just a little rainfall at dark, and this trail has been made fresh since then." "It is the track of the burner! Let us follow it, and punish the hand that held the torch!" cried an excitable young man, waving his gun above his head. Bob and Sandy exchanged a quick glance; and the latter seemed to ask a question of his brother, since Bob quickly remarked: "No, this does not prove that we were wrong; for Lacroix may have been in league with the Indians; and he could easily engage one of the red men to come here to do his work for him. It may be that the torch of a Pottawottomi or a Shawanee set fire to our cabin; but, Sandy, the hand of a Frenchman was back of it!" With Reuben in the van, half a dozen of the men started following the fresh trail. They could have but little hope of coming upon the culprit, unless the Indian might have hidden near by, wishing to enjoy the confusion and wild alarm his wanton act had caused; but, since they were so aroused, it might be just as well to scour the immediate neighborhood in order to give vent to some of their enthusiasm. A few of the settlers had gone home. They could not tell what this midnight burning might signify. Perhaps other incendiaries were abroad, and at any moment another fire would call for attention. Every man was keyed up to a pitch where it would have gone hard with any Indian or half-breed falling into his clutches just then. The entire settlement was astir. Women had armed themselves, not knowing but that a general attack might be forthcoming. And the wives and daughters of these early Ohio pioneers were well fitted to be the mates of the bold spirits that braved the unknown perils of the great wilderness. Many of them could handle a gun almost as well as the men. The tracking party had now entered the dense woods. They had been warned by the older and more cautious members of the community to be careful lest they fall into some cunning ambush. That plain trail may have been left purposely in order to excite their anger, and bring them under the guns of concealed enemies, who would shoot them down without mercy. This was Indian nature. Treachery went hand-in-hand with the war tactics of the red men. They thought it no wrong to lure their foes into a trap, and then slaughter them as wolves might be cut down. Pontiac himself had shown how exceedingly clever and crafty a warfare could be exercised against the white man. At the important trading post of Michilimackinac hundreds of his Indians, mostly Sacs and Chippewas, had been loitering around the fort for days. On the king's birthday they had proceeded to celebrate by a great game of ball. The sport had been carried on with all the customary noise and confusion; and the unsuspicious garrison allowed the players to rush within the stockade when the ball, seemingly by accident, was knocked over the high palisade. Under their blankets many of the Indians carried muskets, with the barrels sawed off short; while all had their tomahawks and knives. At a given signal they fell upon the garrison, and, although a terrible fight ensued, the surprise was complete, so that a massacre had followed. Nine other trading posts had fallen in much the same way, and the most important of all, Detroit, had a close call, when the sachem Pontiac laid siege with his allied tribes. Although time had passed since these exciting days, the wily chieftain still lived to plot new schemes for the destruction of the encroaching whites. And never was his dreaded name mentioned in a weak border settlement without a shudder. This was why the older men had warned the more hotheaded to be careful lest they run into an ambuscade; for it was a favorite trick among the Indians to lure rash settlers away from the shelter of their stockade by some such stratagem, and then fall upon them in overpowering numbers. Clouds hid the moon from sight, but, only for dense foliage of the forest trees, the night would hardly be called dark. There were just seven in the band that pushed through the woods, following that trail. Old Reuben, at the head, held his blazing and smoking pine torch low, so that his eagle eyes might keep track of the imprint of those moccasins that toed-in. Behind him came the others, with guns ready for immediate use, and eyes trying to pierce the gloom that loomed up ahead like a black wall. No doubt after a time, when they had cooled down somewhat, a more sensible view of the situation would come over these eager trailers. Finding that the Indian had headed straight away from the settlement, they must realize the folly of trying to follow him further in the perilous night time, and retrace their steps back home. Once they heard a crash, as some frightened wild animal floundered through the bushes ahead. It must have been a prowling bear, for no other creature would make so great a noise. Again their alert ears, that could pick up the faintest sounds, caught the snort of a deer that may have been viewing the advance of these strange fireflies through the woods until they came too near for comfort, and then fled swiftly with tremendous bounds. Each time the men had gripped their guns, thinking that something was about to occur; but only once more to relax the nervous strain. "I surely saw something move ahead, Bob!" exclaimed Sandy, who was alongside his brother in the forward movement. "Where?" asked the other, quickly; while the nearest neighbor cocked his head to listen, half raising his musket menacingly. "Over there where that tree hangs down across the way," replied Sandy, pointing with his gun. "Well, we must soon know whether it means anything," replied Bob, "for we are headed that way right now." "Look! look! it must be a man; and he is waving a white flag to us! He does not want us to fire upon him at sight!" cried Sandy, a few seconds later. "Yes, you are right," declared his brother. Of course the attention of all the members of the tracking party had now been attracted toward the moving object, which every one could see was a piece of white cloth being waved up and down. They changed their course just a little, and headed in a bunch for the spot. "Be careful, lads!" said old Reuben. "Nobody kin tell what the sly critters may be up to. Keep yer hands on yer triggers, but don't shoot till I give the word. Unless I'm mightily mistaken, that arm is an Injun's. Spread out a leetle, lads. He wants us to get closer still, afore he gives over wavin' that rag. Thar! he's dropped the thing! Easy now, and wait! Ha!" As the old woodranger gave vent to this last exclamation, the unseen party who had been signalling to them from behind the big oak, suddenly stepped into view, holding both hands above his head in token of amity. Both Bob and Sandy uttered cries of astonishment. "Why," cried the latter, "see Bob, it's our friend, Blue Jacket!" CHAPTER X BLUE JACKET'S WARNING " Shoot the cabin burner!" "He made the tracks we've been following! A rope would come in handy!" "The sneaking hound, to turn on the boys who saved his life! But it's only what we ought to expect from an Injun!" "He ought to be made meat for the crows, men!" These angry exclamations arose from the group of settlers as they saw who was coming from behind the giant oak. Both Bob and Sandy, however, never for a moment dreamed of suspecting the young Indian brave of being concerned in the recent outrage. They had found him seriously wounded at the time of the arrival of the emigrants on the Ohio. True, his hurts had doubtless been received during the preceding attack upon the camp of the pioneers, but the two boys did not let that influence them. Something seemed to draw them to Blue Jacket, and they had nursed him tenderly in the new cabin, until one night he had vanished. The older settlers, who did not believe that a true heart could beat under a red skin, were loud in their declaration that the boys had only nursed a snake that would come back to sting them. But, when Sandy was captured and carried away to the Shawanee village, it was by the aid of Blue Jacket that his release was finally accomplished. Since that day they had seen more or less of the young Indian. He occasionally turned up at the Armstrong cabin, to spend a few days with his white friends, of whom he seemed very fond; then he would vanish in a mysterious way without saying good-bye, to once more reappear, weeks later, always bringing in a deer, or a wild turkey, as a present for the sweet little mother who reigned as queen of the frontier cabin. ( Note 4. ) Sandy, more impetuous than his brother, though not any more fond of the young Indian, hearing these hasty and ugly remarks, immediately sprang forward, and, placed himself in front of Blue Jacket, spread out his arms as he exclaimed with a show of anger: "Don't any one of you dare to lift a hand against him! He is our friend, tried and true! Why, sooner than try to burn our cabin, Blue Jacket would put his own hand in the fire and let it be consumed. I stand for him. The one who raises his hand against Blue Jacket will have to fight Sandy Armstrong!" After that, of course, the guns that had been half-raised were allowed to drop once more; but the dark scowls did not leave the stern faces of those who gathered around. "See here, Sandy, and you, too, Bob," said one of their comrades, as he shook his head gravely; "it may look all right to you; but there are some of us who fail to see anything good in Indians. We have followed the tracks of the redskin who tried to burn your father's cabin. It led us here. And, from behind a tree, comes this young brave. We believe he is the guilty one, and, unless he can prove his innocence, we think we have a right to punish him, even to the extent of taking his life!" "You shall not harm a hair of his head!" cried Sandy. "I tell you it is impossible that he could have done so horrible a thing as try to burn our cabin. It may have been an Indian, as the tracks prove; but Blue Jacket, never!" "Listen," said the cooler Bob; "why should he wish to attract our attention if he had done this deed? All he had to do was to remain hidden behind that tree, and we would have passed by without seeing him." "But tell us why he came out holding his hands above his head; and for what reason should he wave the white rag?" demanded a fiery, half-grown fellow. "You would have done the same had you seen several men armed, and ready to shoot at a sound, passing through the woods with torches," replied Bob, soberly. "Blue Jacket was wise enough to understand that sometimes people shoot first, and ask questions afterward." The young Indian had listened with an impassive face to what was being said. From childhood had he been trained to hide all signs of emotion as unbecoming to a warrior. While he did not fully understand the reason for this hot-tempered action on the part of the young whites, still, doubtless, he could draw certain conclusions. "No burn cabin. Blue Jacket been way off in hills and think best see white father, Sandy, Bob. On way when see fire flash through trees. Hide so can know what mean—not want get hurt, so wave white flag. Ugh! Blue Jacket talk with straight tongue; no lie!" He held up his right hand, and looked aloft through the branches of the trees, as though calling upon the Great Spirit to witness that what he so solemnly declared was true. "If he swears that he is innocent, let him prove it!" demanded the same young hothead who had before spoken. "Just as you say," returned Bob, who had the utmost confidence in his copper-colored friend. "Come, let us all go back to where those moccasin tracks are, which we have followed from our cabin. We will soon see if they were made by those Blue Jacket has on." "But that is foolish," remarked one of the others. "All moccasins are pretty much alike; and they make tracks that are as much the same as peas in a pod." "Is that so, Reuben?" asked Bob, appealing to the old and experienced woodsman, who knew Indians like a scholar would the pages of a printed book. "It air not," came the positive reply. "In the fust place, every tribe has its own way o' makin' footwear; and I kin tell at a look jest which belongs ter a Shawanee, a Sac, a Pottawottomi, a Delaware or an Iroquois. Even among the Six Nations thar's much difference, a Seneca's being built different from the moccasin of a Mohawk or an Oneida." "I thought so," said Bob, smiling as though pleased. "And, Reuben, tell us if even Shawanee moccasins may not be known apart by some peculiar mark?" "A-plenty of times I've seen it. This one might have a patch at the toe; another show some mark whar the skin had been worn; or p'raps a crease straight acrost the foot," the old man replied, frankly. "And did you notice any such mark about the track we have been following—anything you would know again, no matter where you saw it?" Bob went on; for his own eyes had told him something far back, that had to do with this very thing. "Yes, thar war such a mark, Bob," returned the experienced woodsman. "Many times I saw it in the track. It looked like the Indian's moccasin kept comin' off, and he hed tied a piece of deerskin thong around his foot. Besides, it was bigger nor any footprint I've run acrost this many a day." "Look down at the feet of Blue Jacket, Reuben; and here is one of the tracks we followed. Tell me, did the same foot make both prints?" and Bob, as he thus spoke, pointed at the ground where the young warrior stood. The settler was already on his knees. He took a slender stick, and carefully measured the marked track of the moccasin. Then he applied the rule to the plainly seen imprint left by Blue Jacket as he voluntarily moved aside. Every eye saw immediately that there were fully two inches difference between the length of the unknown cabin-burner's foot and that of Blue Jacket. "I knew it!" cried Sandy, as he turned with flashing eyes toward the one who had demanded speedy justice on general principles. "You see how foolish you were, Abner; to want to do him harm without the least evidence against him, only that he is an Indian. Blue Jacket is a friend to the Armstrong family, even if there are others who do not like him." The Indian stood with folded arms. He cast a quick glance of affection in the direction of Sandy when that impulsive individual spoke so warmly in his defence; but toward the others of the group he maintained a cold reserve. Like all of his kind he scorned to show what was in his heart, when the eyes of those who were unfriendly to him watched his every move. "Shall we go on?" asked old Reuben, looking dubious as he spoke. "It would be useless, I think," Bob observed. "We know by now that the man who put the torch to our cabin has fled. He can travel twice as swiftly through the forest as we could follow on his trail. Let him go. After all, no great harm has been done; and another time we may catch him at his work, if he comes back." "Besides," added Reuben, "we stand a chance of runnin' into ambush, if so be he has friends near by. If you ask me, I say return to the settlement." Of course, after that, even the impetuous Abner could not venture a protest; and he certainly had no desire to continue the useless hunt alone, or with a single companion. Accordingly the party turned back, and threaded the dark forest aisles, heading in a direction that would bring them to the settlement. Bob and Sandy kept Blue Jacket between them. They had also fallen back a little, so that they could talk undisturbed; for Bob had seen something in the manner of the Indian to convince him the other had sought the home of the Armstrongs with some important message. "It has been long since Blue Jacket visited his white brothers," remarked Bob, who, when holding converse with the other, usually spoke after the manner of the Shawanees. "Blue Jacket has been far away to the land of the rising sun, and the country of the big waters," replied the other, in his low musical voice. "Everywhere the war drum is sounding and the dance keeps up night after night. The great chief Pontiac has sent the wampum belt to all the tribes, and they thirst for blood. It may come with the new moon; it will not keep long. Blue Jacket is an Indian; but he loves his white brothers, Bob and Sandy. Long distance he come to tell them to be ready. Soon along border cabins go up in smoke, and many pale face squaws and papoose mourn for white braves who come not back. I have spoken!" CHAPTER XI TENDING THEIR TRAPS The manner of Blue Jacket while saying this was grave. He had no liking for the whites, save the family of David Armstrong. His sympathies must be wholly bound up in the interests of his race. And yet, unable to rest easy when he knew these good friends would soon be in peril from another uprising of the allied tribes between the Great Lakes and the Ohio, he had come to give them warning. Bob appreciated what a tremendous sacrifice this act must have been to the red brave, for, in bringing his terrible news, Blue Jacket was in part proving false to his teachings, and the interests of his tribe. "You must come home with us, and see our parents," Bob insisted, when he thought he saw an inclination on the part of the other to leave them. "Tell no more than that, Bob," remarked the young Indian. "All can say keep open eyes for bad times along Ohio. Big chief think now can drive paleface settlers back other side mountains, never return. Many tribes send back wampum belt wrap up round tomahawk. Know that mean hatchet dug up; and ready to fight. Watch out, see storm, get in fort! Blue Jacket sorry, no can help." When it was known that fresh word had come in connection with the dreaded uprising, the pioneers of the Ohio would find new cause for anxiety. But there had never been a time since their arrival that they had not been concerned about the hostile attitude of the Indians. Despite the protestations of some of the tribes as to their desire for peace, even to smoking the pipe with their white brothers, few believed that they meant it; and hence no man ever went far from his cabin without making sure to have his gun along, and that the priming was in the pan, ready for immediate use. Mr. Armstrong was indeed glad to see Blue Jacket, for while at first he had distrusted him as an Indian, after the rescue of Sandy he could not doubt the loyalty of the young Shawanee. In the morning he hoped to find out more particulars concerning the important news the newcomer brought, and which fully corroborated that which Pat O'Mara and Simon Kenton had carried, after their trips to the north. But, when morning came, Blue Jacket could not be found. He had vanished again, after his usual way of leaving the cabin of his friends. "Here is some Indian picture writing on this piece of white birch bark, that he left behind him," said Sandy, when he had looked everywhere without finding the dusky guest, who had slept on the hard floor by the fire, using for a bed only a bearskin thrown on the hard puncheon floor. By this time the two boys had learned to read the sign language of the Indians to a fair extent. Blue Jacket himself had taken pains to teach them many things that had to do with his people, and their odd ways. Consequently, between them Bob and Sandy started to figure out just what the various signs stood for. But this time the friendly young Shawanee had confined his efforts to one subject. Cabins and wigwams were given over to the flames, for the smoke curled up above each one. The various rude figures in sight they could understand to be Indian braves, carrying on the massacre, dancing around fires, and waving objects in the air that must stand for scalps. "It is only the same warning he gave us last night," said Bob. "He wants to make us believe that all this is coming, and we must keep on guard, day and night. But there was little need of that, because in Anthony Brady we have a leader who sleeps with one eye open. Whatever comes, this little Ohio River settlement will never be caught napping." It was indeed a time that tried men's souls. And even pioneer boys felt the terrible responsibility resting on their young shoulders, for, as soon as a lad could aim and fire a gun, he became one of the defenders of the home, and must face danger bravely, or be branded as a coward by his kind. "When we go out hunting after this we must always be on the watch for sneaking enemies," said Sandy, with a tinge of disgust in his voice. "I only hope the scare will die out," ventured Bob, though his manner told that he did not have great faith in this direction. "Well, we must not pull too long faces about it," remarked Sandy; "because poor mother is dreadfully worried even now about what may come to pass. We can't prevent it, do what we will, and there's no use crying till you're hurt." From that time on a feeling of uneasiness rested over the little settlement. Men went about their daily tasks as usual; but many suspicious glances were cast upon the heavy forest beyond the clearing, as though they might be wondering how soon it would be before the shrill war cries of the painted foe burst from those gloomy depths, and blazing cabins told that the worst had come to pass. And the women stuck closer than ever to their homes, while children were never allowed to stray away, as had been their habit during the earlier summer. Around the humble tables, when the supper was spread, the talk was chiefly concerning such shreds of news as floated in to them from other settlements. As yet, so far as they could learn, no concerted outbreak had occurred, although, further south and west, the Shawanees were, as usual, harassing the settlements founded by Daniel Boone. But these valiant pioneers of Kentucky were so quick on the trigger, and so ready to match their cunning against that of the red foe, that the Indians had not made any great progress toward wiping out the hardy invaders. The lateness of the season caused some of the more hopeful to believe that the contemplated uprising might be delayed until spring, since winter was seldom a time for Indian warfare. As they already had every trap they possessed in use, Bob and Sandy knew that it was necessary for them to visit the entire line daily, unless they wished to lose what fur had been taken over night. These traps had not been set any great distance from the settlement, for they had found plenty of traces of mink, marten, otter, badger and fox in the ravines and creeks within a couple of miles of home; and while, at one time, they had contemplated going further away, the uneasiness of their mother influenced them to make a shorter circuit. Accordingly they started every other day to visit these traps. Sandy had also discovered a colony of beaver up a lonely stream, and, as he coveted their glossy pelts, he had made sure to leave several of his best traps hidden just under the surface of the water with the bait, scented with castor, above, so that, when one of the little animals tried to reach up, it would surely step into the open jaws of the trap, and be drowned. One thing the boys had faithfully promised their parents. This was to always keep close together when out in the forest, either in search of fresh meat or visiting their traps to remove the captured fur-bearers. Bob was particularly interested in every sort of information which he could secure concerning the Indians of this Northwest Territory. He knew the chief differences between the many tribes, and that, while all the rest were in favor of the wily French traders, most of the Iroquois or Six Nations inclined toward the English. But this did not mean that they would be friendly toward the settlers beyond Fort Duquesne, later known as Fort Pitt; for already were the strong signs of rebellion rife in the Colonies; and the Indians began to take the side of the loyalists against the Americans. Often, while he and Sandy were making the rounds of their traps, Bob would relate something of interest that he had managed to pick up; and his brother, though not as deeply concerned as himself, always asked numerous questions. Some days passed after the visit of Blue Jacket, and thus far nothing had come about that might excite new alarm. Almost daily some scout or courier belonging in the settlement would come in with news; but the reports all seemed to point to a possibility of the outbreak being postponed, for a while at least. Pontiac had not had sufficient time in which to mature his terrible scheme; because it was so difficult to get answers from distant tribes, in the confederacy of treachery. Things were drifting on in this fairly satisfactory way when there came a sudden break in the calm, so far as the Armstrong family was concerned. As usual, the two boys had been out on their line of traps, and were returning home late in the afternoon. They had been unusually successful, which accounted for their tardiness, for as a rule they were home long before this. Sandy had succeeded in shooting a deer, and bore a bountiful supply of fresh meat on his broad shoulders. Bob, on the other hand, staggered under a goodly bunch of pelts, consisting of two beaver, a beautiful black fox, three mink, and some muskrat skins that were not worth anything at the time in the market, but were used by the settlers for making warm mitts for winter wear, or snug caps calculated to keep their ears from freezing when the cold winds howled, and the snow fell. The boys had just come in sight of their cabin when Sandy saw something that caused him to call to his brother. "Look, Bob, what do you suppose all those people are doing around our home? I can count five, six, seven women standing, talking; and there's Mr. Brewster and Mr. Lane coming out of the cabin. Oh! I wonder if that firebrand has been about again, trying to burn us out?" And Bob, looking hastily, was also thrilled to see that his brother spoke the truth, in so far as the gathering of neighbors was concerned. He too became immediately deeply concerned, and his boyish face lost every particle of color. "No, it couldn't be that, Sandy," he said, in a voice that trembled with new-born anxiety; "but I fear it may be father has hurt himself again. Ever since that tree fell on him, and nearly took his life, he has been hardly himself." "But you must surely be wrong, Bob," spoke up the other, eagerly; "for see, there is father coming out of the door now, and shaking hands with Mr. Lane. If there is any one ill it must be our darling mother, because I can see sister Kate with the women right now." "But no, that cannot be either, Sandy," said Bob, as he stared at the group near the cabin. "If our mother were ill you do not believe that both father and Kate would leave her alone, while they gossiped with the neighbors outside the doors? It must mean something else! See, Kate is dancing about as though she could not quite contain herself. Now she looks this way, and I believe she sees us." "Which is quite true," Sandy observed, still trembling from excitement, "because the little witch is running straight toward us as fast as her dear feet will carry her. Listen, she is calling something too; but for the life of me I can't quite make out what she says." "Anyhow, Sandy," Bob said, smilingly, "we need not fear that it can be very terrible, or Kate would not be looking so gay. See her wave her hands to us as she dances along! Come, why longer hang back, when by meeting her half-way we shall the sooner learn just what has happened to bring the neighbors to our home." "Just as you say, Bob. I was afraid at first, thinking that something had gone wrong with our loved ones; but—why, there is mother right now, joining the rest at the door. Look, they seem to be saluting her, as though there might be some cause for congratulations. Bob, I no longer fear that trouble has visited us; but, if I am shaking, it is with eagerness to know what it all means." Kate had ceased trying to make them understand; but all the time she was rapidly approaching the heavily laden boy trappers. Almost out of breath she came up finally, to throw her arms about the neck of one brother, and then affectionately embrace the other. "Come, what ails you, Kate?" demanded Bob, when the girl had repeated this demonstration twice, as though unable to articulate, owing to her excitement and loss of breath through running. "Good news!" she managed to say, beaming at them in turn. "Something's happened then," cried Sandy; "something good, you say? Bob, can you make her stop dancing around like that, and speak? I'm feeling like I was in a dream, and just can't for the life of me understand what could happen out here so far away from everywhere." Bob caught his sister, and, having dropped his burden, threw an arm around her. "Now, tell us at once," he said, in his commanding way; "was it a letter?" "Yes, yes!" she answered, with a happy gasp, and merry eyes that seemed suspiciously moist with tears of very joy. "A letter from the lawyer in Richmond, telling father that at last, after these years of waiting, the great case has been decided, and in his favor. He is to come and receive the money of which his wicked cousin robbed him ever so long ago. Is it not splendid news, brothers?" CHAPTER XII THE CRUEL PARTING " Oh! I'm so glad—for mother's sake!" exclaimed Bob, his first thought being of that beloved, patient little woman, who had stood shoulder to shoulder with her husband through all the hard times of the past. "Yes, now she can have some of the things other women own," said Sandy, gleefully; "for father will have to go to Richmond, and can bring back with him many comforts that we never expected to get here." "If only he does not have to cross the big water!" sighed Kate, proving that there was a fly in the ointment, after all, and that this possibility loomed up mountain high even in the midst of her joy. Crossing the ocean in those days was a tremendous undertaking, with the sailing craft subject to all whims of the fickle weather for many weeks; and few contemplated such a voyage lightly. "But father often said that if this long postponed case was decided in his favor he would only have to go to Richmond to be put in possession of his own!" remarked Bob. "So I wouldn't worry about it, Kate, dear. But let us go on to the cabin, for I can see mother looking this way, and beckoning." They found a happy group when they reached the log building. The neighbors had come to rejoice with the Armstrongs over the glorious news; for only too well did every housewife know the privations that had followed the loss of Mr. Armstrong's little fortune; and how delightful it was to realize that things were now about to take a decided turn for the better. Others came flocking to the scene, and that night was one never to be forgotten. Such good news as this seldom came to any of the pioneers. As a rule those hardy men had to build their own fortunes by daily contact with the rough edges of life, clearing first one acre of land, and planting it to crops; and then slowly adding to their holdings, year by year. Mr. Armstrong knew that it was absolutely necessary that he proceed east at the very earliest day in order to get back before winter had settled in earnest over the mountains, since they would be utterly impassable once this occurred. He consulted with some of his best friends; for since they had been neighbors many months now they had come to know each other fully. His wife was both happy and oppressed. She knew that her little family would be rendered better able to withstand the hardships of pioneer life after David had been to the east, and returned, bringing the many things so needed to make them comfortable; but the thought of the separation gave her much pain, since the pair were very devoted to each other. But it was considerable pleasure to be able to make out a long list of things which the good man was to secure, after he had come into his own. Several pack animals would be needed on which to transport all he expected to bring to the Ohio. The neighbors, almost to a family, thought of various little things they needed; and Mr. Armstrong was commissioned to purchase these. "Why," he laughed, as another day had passed, with his list growing to a formidable length, as still more of the settlers' wives came, with money and a request that he buy them this article or that; "if this keeps on I'll surely have a regular caravan under my charge, as numerous as the one with which we first crossed the mountains, and found this beautiful spot on the Ohio." "But, father," said far-seeing Bob, "that will be all the better, for it has been some time since there was a pack train out of Virginia headed this way, and I am sure quite a lot of people will want to join you. They have been hearing stories about this golden west a long time now; and we know what that means." "Yes," observed the good wife, as she looked up into the bronzed face of the pioneer; "and if the company is large, the better I shall be pleased, David, because it will mean that you are safe. Bring them along, all who yearn to come hither. We will stand by them—the men to help build cabins before the winter sets in; the women to assist in fitting their homes up, so as to give the newcomers a start. There is room in plenty here in this glorious country, where people can really breathe without paying taxes to a king three thousand miles away." That evening the neighbors flocked to the Armstrong cabin to spend a few hours with those for whom they had come to feel so much respect and affection. If some of them secretly envied the Armstrongs their great good fortune, they managed to conceal the fact, for every one seemed bubbling over with happiness. On the morrow the start was to be made. All preparations had been completed looking forward to the event. It happened, fortunately, that several parties were expecting to leave for the fields of Virginia about this time; and, since greater safety would follow if they went together, they had managed to set upon this day, close upon the verge of fall, for a start. Often during the evening Bob caught his father's eyes fastened upon himself and Sandy. He knew well what thoughts must be passing through the mind of the pioneer. And again and again did Bob promise himself that he would strive to do everything in his power to fill that father's place while the head of the family was absent. There was really little sleep under that humble roof that night. First, the excitement attaching to the visit of so many neighbors broke into the routine of their daily life. Then, after these good friends had departed, it was found that a number of things had been neglected that were absolutely necessary for the comfort of the traveller. The party anticipated making an early start in the morning, so none of these could be postponed. Besides, it was only natural that every member of the family should be worked up to a high degree of nervous anxiety, and lie awake long after they had sought their cots, thinking of a thousand and one matters. Early indeed were they astir. Breakfast was prepared as usual; but, on this morning, no one had much heart for merriment. Mrs. Armstrong indeed kept a smile on her face, but it was forced simply to encourage her husband; since she knew only too well how he must feel at the idea of thus separating himself from all he held dear on earth. Bob, Sandy and Kate tried their best to appear natural, but it was indeed hard work. Often Kate would make some excuse for darting out of the room, and, when she came back a little later, there was always a suspicious redness about her eyes that told plainly how she had indulged in a cry to ease the numb pain in her girlish heart. And even fun-loving Sandy dared not take her to task, for he was on the verge of a breakdown himself. Mr. Armstrong, seeing how his wife exerted herself to sustain him, and ashamed to let her bear the whole burden, made a great effort, and mastered his feelings. He took Bob aside as they left the table, and with a hand on the shoulder of his oldest boy said: "Be very careful, son, while I am away. Your mother will have no one but you to stand by her, for Sandy, though a well-meaning lad, is hardly to be depended on in times of stress. Be vigilant and watchful. Remember that we have to deal with a cunning and merciless foe, and, should there be an attack on the settlement, see to it that your mother is quickly taken inside the stockade. I depend much on you, Robert; and, if it were not so, nothing could induce me to leave home with these ugly rumors of trouble floating to our ears. You promise me to do everything a man could for your sister's and your mother's well-being?" And Bob, looking firmly into the face of his father, managed to say in reply: "I promise to try and fill your place, father, as best I may. But oh! we will count the days till your return. If Pat O'Mara comes in while you are away, perhaps he may agree to stay with us. Try and think all is going well. Sandy and I have many plans ahead; but we will stick as close to our home as may be. Do not fear for us. And, just to think, how happy we will all be when we see you come home again, bringing so many things to make our dearest mother happy." That was all. These two understood one another, so that many words were not necessary. Bob had always been a serious lad, and right well did his father know that in trusting him he was not putting his faith in jeopardy. Apparently the entire settlement had gathered to witness the departure, as well as wish the travellers Godspeed on their way. Even little Kate brightened up with all this clamor around her, and smiled; though, after the parting had taken place, she would doubtless sob her heart out on her mother's breast.

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