A Virginia Scout Part 23

"No."

"It's best that way. There're 'nough others. They'll pay for it."

I abandoned my plan of following the war-party farther and was only anxious to get my companion back to the protection of Howard's Creek. We followed the back-trail for a few miles and then were forced by the night to make a camp. I opened my supply of smoked meat and found a spring. I did not dare to risk a fire. But he would not eat. Only once did he speak that night, and that was to say:

"I must keep clear o' the settlements. If I don't I'll do as Ike Crabtree does, kill in sight o' the cabins."

In the morning he ate some of my food; not as if he were hungry, but as if forcing himself to a disagreeable task. He seemed to be perfectly willing to go on with me, but he did not speak of the girl again.

When we drew near the creek he began to look about him. He at once recognized the surroundings and made a heroic effort to control himself.

When we swung into the clearing there was nothing in his appearance to denote the terrible experience he had pa.s.sed through.

Now that we were back I was beset by a fear, that the sight of Patricia in all her loveliness would be an overwhelming shock to his poor brain. It was with great relief that I got him to the Moulton cabin without his glimpsing Patsy.

"You can tell 'em if you want to. S'pose they'll l'arn it some time," he said to me as we reached the door and met Mrs. Moulton and her little girl. With that he pa.s.sed inside and seated himself in a corner and bowed his head.

I drew Mrs. Moulton aside and briefly explained his great sorrow. With rich sympathy she stole into the cabin and began mothering him, patting his shoulders and stroking the long hair back from his wan face.

My own affairs became of small importance when measured beside this tragedy. I had no trepidation now in facing Patricia. I walked boldly to the Davis cabin and thrust my head in the door. Only Davis and his wife were there.

"Where are the Dales?" I bruskly asked.

"Gone," grunted Davis in disgust.

"Gone back home?" I eagerly asked.

"What do you think!" babbled Mrs. Davis. "Cousin Ericus has took that gal down toward the Clinch. He 'lows now he's goin' to keep the Injuns out of that valley--"

"Good G.o.d! Why did you let them go?"

Davis snorted angrily, and exclaimed:

"Let 'em go! How ye goin' to stop her? 'Twas she that was bound to be movin' on. Just made her daddy go."

"When did they start?"

"Right after you lit out. Seems 's if th' gal couldn't git shut o' this creek quick 'nough."

I ran from the cabin to get my horse and start in immediate pursuit. By the time I reached the animal, well rested during my absence, I became more reasonable. After all Black Hoof was traveling north. There would be small chance of another band raiding down the Clinch for some time at least. I needed rest. Night travel would advance me but slowly. I would start early in the morning.

CHAPTER VIII

IN ABB'S VALLEY

Orioles and mocking-birds sang in the openings, and startled deer fled before our advance as Shelby Cousin and I rode for the Clinch. The heat of July was tempered by a breeze out of the north, and the heavens were filled with hurrying white argosies. So it had ever been since the white man came to these pleasant ridges and rich bottom-lands; perfume, song, gracious valleys, and the lurking red evil.

Cousin had regained his self-control overnight and outwardly appeared to be thoroughly composed. He talked but little, and then only when I took the lead. I refrained from mentioning the tragedy of yesterday and the sun was noon-high before he brought the matter up.

"I couldn't kill that feller," he abruptly informed me.

There was no preface to indicate whom he meant, but I knew and nodded sympathetically.

"An' I'd ruther kill him than all the rest o' the Injuns 'tween here 'n'

Detroit," he added after a long pause.

"She will never come back to us?" I asked; for he had given no details of his interview with his sister.

"She'll never come back. For a time I'd a mind to drag her away, but she was so cold to me, so Injun-like in her way of lettin' me know it wouldn't do no good, that I give it up. You see she was only a child when captured.

Women caught when much older'n her have gone for to choose a wigwam to a cabin."

"Do you wish I had shot him?"

"No. If it could happen in a open fight--that's different. It wouldn't do any good to hurt her by killin' him. But I wish he was dead!"

We stopped and ate and rode several miles before either of us spoke again.

Then I said:

"There's a girl ahead, about your age."

He was disturbed to hear it and I feared he would wish to leave me.

"I don't want her captured by Indians," I added.

"G.o.d forbid it!" he hoa.r.s.ely cried.

Having prepared him for seeing Patricia, I s.h.i.+fted his line of thought by asking, "What do you think of John Ward?"

"Injun."

I said nothing and after a few minutes he went on:

"Took by Injuns when a little boy, just like Tavenor Ross and George Collet was took. I've heard traders tell about the three of 'em. When they're took so young they grow up just as much Injuns as if they was born red. Ward's that way. Must be. Look at the sister I lost!"

"But Ward comes back to settlements. He even crosses the mountains. He says he escaped."

"He wouldn't be travelin' round these parts if he was a' 'scaped prisoner.

As for crossin' the mountains he might 'a' gone for to see what he could see. Cornstalk has spies all up an' down the frontier. I 'low them two we met yesterday was bent on spyin'. G.o.d! That's a' awful thought! But I ain't got no sister. It was a red woman we seen. She 'n' her man was spyin'. If not that why should they be makin' east into the mountains? I 'low he was to stay hid while 'nother 'scaped prisoner rode down into some settlement."

From that speech on I do not remember that he spoke of his sister as being any kin of his. When he must mention her he usually styled her, "That woman who's turned red."

To get his thoughts away from her I rattled on about my trip to Richfield and told of my experiences in returning over the mountains. After I had narrated Hughes' quick action in saving me from an a.s.sa.s.sin's bullet Cousin jerked up his head and said:

"Moccasin, one you give to that there young woman we're now followin'?"