Far Past the Frontier Part 15

"No, there is only one thing to do, an' it is for me to do it," Tom Fish replied without looking up. "You can't help, Ree, an' ye'd only get into a row an' spoil all yer own plans. It is fer me to squar' accounts--an'

I'll--do it. For I tell, ye, Ree, I ain't mistaken. I'd know that silky dark ha'r of Art Bridges' if I seen it in Jerusalem. Oh, it's too bad--it's too bad!"

Ree could make no answer, and in another minute Tom Fish straightened up and said he would turn in. He told Ree to do the same, and as he lay himself down the boy heard him saying:

"We must all die--all die--an' them that's left can only squar'

accounts."

Never before had the land of friends and civilization seemed to Ree to be so far away as it did that night. His busy thoughts kept him awake until nearly morning. He knew what Tom Fish meant when he said he would "squar'

accounts." In other words he would make the Delawares pay for Art Bridges' death. There would undoubtedly he trouble which would put an end to their plans for trading and home-making in this new country. They could not fight the redskins one day, and be received as peaceable traders the next.

And on the other hand, if Arthur Bridges, a peaceable trader, had been murdered, might he and John not be in greatest danger of the same fate?

Was it not true that the Indians were treacherous and not to be trusted though they seemed friendly? Even if Tom began the fight alone, would not the Indians blame him and John as being friends of his, and attack them?

At last Ree went to sleep, resolving to persuade Tom Fish to await developments. He believed they could find out through Fis.h.i.+ng Bird just where and how the b.l.o.o.d.y trophy which was at the root of their difficulty, had been secured. That might throw great light on the problem.

John was early astir next morning and began preparations for the visit to the Indian town for the council meeting at which the bargain for their land was to be finally confirmed. Ree was strangely silent as he also arose and ate the breakfast which John had ready.

Tom Fish likewise had nothing to say except that he stated that he would remain at the cabin while the boys were away, and might be doing some work at c.h.i.n.king the walls.

It was in the early winter, but the day came out bright and clear.

Greatly the boys enjoyed the bright suns.h.i.+ne and the bracing air as they took their way through the woods, crossing the river at last, and following a much used trail which took them toward the Delawares'

village. This was a new route to them, but it was the course the Indians traveled and they found it better than the unbroken way they had previously taken in going to the lake beside which Capt. Pipe's people lived. As they walked along Ree told the story of Arthur Bridges as Tom had told it to him, and earnestly they discussed their situation.

In three hours the boys came to the Indian town, and Capt. Pipe called a council to settle the bargain for the land. There was speech making as before, but less of it, and then came a feast. But this too, was less formal than before. The Indians seemed about to go on a hunting expedition and had less time for other matters.

The Delawares promised to do much trading with the young Palefaces, and the boys would have considered their prospects very bright had it not been for the likelihood of trouble arising through Tom Fish's desire for revenge.

The little information Ree secured from Fis.h.i.+ng Bird was not at all re-a.s.suring, either. That agreeable, but none the less wily, savage would give him no satisfaction when he questioned him concerning the b.l.o.o.d.y trophy Big Buffalo had had, declaring, indeed, that no white man had been killed by the Delawares for a very long time.

The boys started on their homeward way in time to arrive before dark, and reached the clearing just after sundown. With a hop, step and jump John ran forward and up the ascent, to the door.

"Why, where is Tom?" he called as he entered. "The fire is out and there is no sign of him anywhere. He said he would stay here all day."

CHAPTER XIV.

Treed by Wolves.

The disappearance of Tom Fish caused both boys considerable uneasiness.

They at first thought that he might return during the evening, though the fact that the fire had gone out, indicated that he had left the cabin early in the day. As they crept into their rough but comfortable bunks, however, and no sign of his coming had been heard, the lads realized the strong probability that the woodsman had set out by himself to avenge the death of Arthur Bridges, and that he had intended going when he told Ree the strange story of that young man, the night before.

What the consequences of Tom's undertaking might be, afforded grave cause for alarm. By reason of his having been looked upon as a member of their party, the Indians would consider the boys equally guilty in any offense which he might give.

"We will have to make the best of it, though and if it comes to fighting, we will fight like Trojans," said Ree, with some cheerfulness as he saw that John was quite depressed. "But our best plan will be to say nothing to Capt. Pipe's people about Tom. It may be that he left us on purpose to avoid getting us into trouble."

John agreed to this way of reasoning, hoping as Ree did, that it would be only a few days until they would see Tom and learn what his plans were.

But time pa.s.sed rapidly and nothing was seen or heard of the missing man.

Had Tom been anything but a skilled woodsman the lads might probably have worried for his safety. As it was, that phase of the situation was scarcely thought of.

By working early and late, thawing the frozen clay beside their fire, when the weather was cold, that they might quickly get all the cracks in the cabin walls closed up, the boys accomplished a great deal in a week's time. Several times little parties of Indians came to trade with them, but the savages never mentioned Tom Fish's name. Big Buffalo came once and appeared more hateful than ever, suggesting the unpleasant thought that perhaps he knew more concerning the absent man than he would have been willing to tell.

The Delawares were not the only Indians who pa.s.sed along the river and stopped to exchange skins for cloth, knives, beads or other articles. The Wyandots, Chippewas and Senecas had villages to the west and north and were coming or going quite frequently. Sometimes wandering Mingoes came along, and for them it may be said that they were more disposed to make trouble than any of the others. The reason probably lay in the fact that they were still to some extent influenced by British traders who retained feelings of hostility toward the colonies, and used their influence to secretly cause Indian disturbances along the borders.

At no great distance from the cabin was the Portage trail referred to in the previous chapter as pa.s.sing near the Delaware town. This path was much used by all the Indians in traveling between the Great Lakes and the Ohio river, as it was the only stretch of land they must cross in making all the remainder of the journey by water. Thus they willingly carried their canoes over eight miles or so of land from the Cuyahoga to the Tuscarawas river, or vice versa, for the sake of paddling on their way with ease and rapidity the rest of the way, either north or south.

Thus, as their visitors were many, the loft the boys had built in their cabin came to contain a richer and richer store, as they placed there the furs they secured. Sitting before the fire at night they would sometimes estimate their probable profits, and as they discussed this and other subjects, the lads never forgot that their safety was the very first thing with which they must reckon. In this connection they were glad when they learned that Big Buffalo had gone away on a hunting trip with a large party of Delawares and would probably not return until spring.

There was another subject which was sometimes spoken of--the fact that the prowling enemy who had killed their horse had not for a long time given any sign of being in the vicinity. Out of these talks grew a theory that, perhaps, that secret foe was Big Pete Ellis, and that having killed old Jerry he had at last decided that his revenge was complete.

Their health, too, was a matter for daily thought with the boys, and remembering that they must be careful to guard against needless exposure, but both being hardy and robust, they were little troubled.

So the time pa.s.sed and all promised well. They contrived many traps for the capture of fur-bearing animals, and to catch turkeys and other game for food. Chief of their traps was the dead-fall, made by propping up one end of a short piece of puncheon or hewed plank, in such a way that it would fall upon the animal which attempted to secure the bait placed on a trigger beneath it. This trigger was a part of the prop under the puncheon and gave way at the slightest jar. As the plank fell it caught the creature which had disturbed it, and being weighted down with stones, held its victim fast.

Wolf pens were also made and very successfully used. These were built of small logs on the same principle as a box trap, having a very heavy lid which fell, shutting inside any animal which entered and attempted to eat the bait placed on the spindle, which at the least pull, gave way, letting the lid fall.

The turkey traps were made in the Indian fas.h.i.+on. A small, low enclosure was built with sticks, a small opening or door being made close to the ground. The pen was then covered with brush except for a pa.s.sage way leading to the door, and along this path beechnuts or other bait, were scattered, the trail of nuts extending into the enclosure. A turkey finding the food would follow it, its head near the ground, enter the pen, and having eaten all it could find, would raise its head and so be unable to see its way out.

The boys did not have so much time for hunting as they had planned upon, and yet scarcely a day pa.s.sed but one of them sallied forth, nearly always coming home with valued furs or meat for their table. They found it advisable that one should remain near the cabin, both for its protection from Indians who might steal, and to trade with those who pa.s.sed. Thus, while Ree would be spending a day with his axe clearing the land near their home, John would be miles away, perhaps, rifle in hand, eyes and ears alert.

The next day, perhaps, Ree would have his turn at hunting. Every day, too, they visited their traps to secure any creatures which had been captured and to reset the snares or change their location. Wood for the fire must be gathered, also, and it was wonderful how great a quant.i.ty of fuel the big fire-place consumed; and pine knots from the rocky ravine farther up the river, or hickory bark from the hillsides in the opposite direction, must be secured every few days to afford light for the evenings. There were also furs to be cured, and much else to be done, all uniting to make the short winter days very busy ones, and to keep the long winter evenings from being tedious.

Night was the favorite time for baking and for the preparation of such dishes as they thought they would most enjoy. Many were the feasts the young friends had, though their stock of supplies included little besides meal and fresh meat. At first they had occasionally secured beans and squashes from the Indians, but the improvident savages soon exhausted their supplies and were themselves dependent on corn and game.

December had gone and January was well under way when there came a great snow storm, which, at the end of a week left drifts piled high in all directions. The snow was soft and light but so deep that it was well nigh impossible for one to make his way through it, and Ree and John quickly agreed to occupy themselves with work in and near the cabin. They set about adding new conveniences to their home, such as shelves and cupboards, pegs, etc. They hewed and whittled out long, thin hickory slats, which they placed lengthwise on the rough bedstead they had built in one corner, and found them so springy and comfortable to sleep upon, when a couple of skins and a blanket had been spread over them, that they were sorry they had not sooner thought of this improvement.

John made a broom of hickory splints which did its work to perfection, and Ree sharpened up his knife and carved from a whitewood block several plates and trays to add to their meager collection of dishes. Both boys improved the opportunity also, while shut in, to give their wardrobes attention, making themselves stout moccasins, c.o.o.n-skin caps and buckskin breeches.

Ree found time during many evenings to read again and again the few books he had. John was less given to reading, but with much care and diligence he managed to make a fife by boring a maple stick through from end to end with a thin piece of iron from their cart, much of which had been carried piece-meal to the cabin. Having natural musical talent, he learned to play the instrument he thus fas.h.i.+oned, and though Ree had declared, as he practiced, that he would surely bring the savages down upon them in war paint, he liked the music as well as its maker.

So, for a fortnight the boys were scarcely out of sight of the cabin. The weather was bitter cold much of that time and no Indians came near. There at last came a day, however, when the wind blew steadily from the southwest, bringing with it at night a cold rain. Changing to the north, the wind turned the rain to sleet, followed by cold weather again.

"We must have snow-shoes," said Ree, when he saw what was taking place, and the third day the boys ventured forth on such contrivances as they had made and did finely with them on the thick, slippery crust which had formed. Taking their rifles, they made their way through the river valley, which, farther up the stream, became quite narrow, steep, rocky banks rising on both sides to a height of fifty feet or more. No sooner had they entered this canyon than they found evidences of deer and other animals having taken shelter there.

Going quietly forward, the lads discovered four of the timid, beautiful creatures huddled together. They went quite near before the deer leaped away through the frozen snow, and Ree quickly brought one down. John did better--or worse--killing one and wounding another. They secured the skins and choice parts of the meat and hanging these in a tree for safety, pushed on after the two which had escaped. They especially desired to capture the doe which had been wounded, not so much for its value, but because Ree insisted that it would be downright cruelty to let the poor creature suffer from its injury for days, perhaps, then die at last.

But the young hunters traveled far before again coming upon the animals they sought. The trail took them out of the narrow valley or canyon, and a long distance through the woods to a locality they had never before visited, where the earth was cut by deep ravines, zig-zagging in nearly all directions, and great rocks often obstructing the way. Here the trail of the deer they were following was lost amid the tracks of others which had gone into the deep rugged gullies to escape the stinging wind.

"We may as well give it up, Ree," said John, as they sat down to rest.

"Oh no, we mustn't give up," Ree answered, "but I'll tell you what we'd better do. It is more than likely the Indians will be out in snow shoes the same as we are, and they may want to swap some dollar furs for penny knick-knacks this afternoon. One of us should be at the cabin."

"I'll go," John willingly responded, for he liked to trade with the Indians, and could make much better bargains than Ree; not but what he was honest, but because Ree was so generous that he was often imposed upon.

"Will you stop for the venison we left in the tree?" Ree asked.