Far Past the Frontier

by James A. Braden

  CHAPTER V.

  A Mysterious Shot in the Darkness.

  "I am going to keep my eyes open for that cut-throat that was under thebed. There's no telling what he might not do," said John with quietdetermination, to Ree, when the peddler had left them and they werefairly under way for the journey of another day.

  "I have thought of that," Ree answered, "and you see I have put therifles where they will be handy. There is no use of carrying them, Iguess, but the time is coming when they must always be within reach."

  The peddler had accompanied the boys to a cross-roads a couple of milesfrom the Eagle tavern, enlivening them with many odd tales of hisexperiences. Now they were alone again, and as the country through whichthey passed became rougher and wilder, the lads realized more fully thanever that theirs was a serious undertaking.

  Yet they were happy. The trees were putting on bright colors; the air wasfragrant with the odor of autumn vegetation. The water in every streamthey crossed was fresh and clear, and fall rains had made green thewoodland clearings. Quail called musically from time to time, and oncethe "Kee-kee-keow-kee-kee" of a wild turkey was heard.

  At noon, beside a dashing brook which tumbled itself over a stony bed asthough in glee with its own noisiness, the travelers halted. Theyunhitched Jerry that he might graze, and kindled a fire to boil someeggs. These with brown bread, a generous supply of which Mrs. Catesby hadgiven them, and ginger cake which Mary Catesby had announced she had madewith her own hands, made a meal which anyone might have relished. To theboys, their appetites sharpened by the fine air, every morsel they putbetween their lips seemed delicious.

  "We won't long have such fare," they reminded one another.

  "We will have venison three times a day though," said John.

  "Yes, we will have so much meat we will be good and tired of it; becausewe must be saving of our meal this winter, and until our own corn grows,"Ree answered thoughtfully.

  "Well, don't be so melancholy about it, Old Sobersides," cried John."Why, for my part, I could just yell for the joy of it when I think howsnug we will be in our cabin this winter! And what a fine time we aregoing to have choosing a location and building our log house!"

  "That, as I have so often said," Ree answered, "is the one thing aboutour whole venture that I do not like. We will be 'squatters.' We won'town the land we settle upon except that we shall have bought it of theIndians; and that is a deed which the government will not recognize. Butwe will have to take our chances of making our title good when the timecomes, though we may have to pay a second time to the men or company, orwhoever secures from the government the territory where we shall be. Orwe might settle near enough to General Putnam's colony to be able to buyland of them. We must wait and see what is best to do."

  "Ree," said John, earnestly, "I know you are right; you always are. But Idon't like to think of those things--only of the hunting and trapping andfixing up our place, and eating wild turkey and other good things beforeour big fire-place in winter--and all that. You see we will have to sortof balance each other. You furnish the brains, and I'll do the work."

  "Oh that sounds grand, but--" Ree laughed and left the sentenceunfinished.

  When, by the sun, their only time-piece, the boys judged they had been anhour and a half in camp, they resumed their journey. They had secured soearly a start that morning, that they had no doubt they would reach theThree Corners, the next stopping-place designated on Captain Bowen's map,before night; and indeed it lacked a half hour of sundown when they droveup to the homely but pleasant tavern at that point. It was so different aplace from the Eagle tavern that the boys had no fear when they went tobed, that the unpleasant experience of the night before would berepeated.

  Several days followed unmarked by any special incident, except that thelads were delayed and a part of their goods badly shaken up by their cartupsetting into a little gully. Fortunately, however, little damage wasdone.

  At the end of two weeks so thinly settled a country had been reached thatnearly every night was spent in camp. Yet these were not disagreeable norwas there much danger. Only one man who answered the general descriptionof a "cut-throat" had been seen, and he seemed inclined to make littletrouble. He rode out on a jet black horse from a barn, near which a househad at one time stood, its site still marked by charred logs and achimney. Perhaps it had been burned in the war-time; at any rate theplace had a forsaken, disagreeable appearance, and the rough-lookingstranger emerging suddenly from the barn, put the young emigrants ontheir guard at once.

  For two hours the man rode in company with the boys, and finding out whothey were, proposed to spend the night with them. Ree would havepermitted it, but by his actions John so plainly gave the fellow tounderstand what he thought of him, that the stranger at last rode back inthe direction he had come, cursing John for the opinions which the latterhad expressed. The boys slept with "one eye open" that night.

  Daily the road became worse and worse. For great distances it wasbordered on both sides by forests and the country was rough and broken.There were wild animals and, undoubtedly, Indians not far away, but thesettlements were yet too near for the young travelers to have much fear.So when their camp fire had burned low in the evening, they piled onlarge sticks of wood, put their feet to the blaze, and, wrapped in theirblankets, slept splendidly. One night when it rained--and the water camedown in torrents--they made their bed inside the cart; but if the weatherwas pleasant they preferred to be beside the glowing coals.

  An adventure which had an important bearing on the future, befell theboys early in the fourth week of their travels. They had resolved to besaving of their ammunition, and wasted no powder in killing game forwhich they had no use, though they twice saw wild turkeys and once abear, as they left civilization farther and farther behind. But whenprovisions from home began to run low, it happened, as so often it does,that when they felt the need of game to replenish their larder theychanced upon scarcely any.

  "One of us must go through the woods, keeping in line with the road, andshoot something or other this afternoon," said Ree, at dinner one day."The other will not be far away when he returns to the road again."

  "Which?" John smiled.

  "I don't care. You go this time and I will try my luck another day," Reeanswered. "Get a couple of turkeys, if you can, old boy; or, if you canget a deer, the weather is cool and the meat will keep."

  So John set off, planning to work his way into the woods gradually andthen follow the general direction of the road and come out upon itsometime before sun-set. He waved his hand to Ree, a smile on his happyfreckled face as he disappeared amid the timber.

  Slowly old Jerry plodded on; slowly the miles slipped to the rear; slowlythe time passed. Ree thought of many things during the afternoon andplanned how he and John should spend the winter hunting and trapping andsecure, he hoped, a large quantity of furs. Two chests they had werefilled with goods for trade with the Indians, also, and they wouldreceive skins in return. These would add greatly to the store theythemselves accumulated, and they should realize a considerable sum whenthey came to market them. Ree hoped so. It was no part of his plan to gointo the forest fastnesses merely to hunt and trap and lead a rough life.No, indeed! He wished to make a home, to grow up with the country and "besomebody."

  Lower and lower the sun sank behind the darkness of the trees whichseemed to rise skyward in the western horizon, and as the early Octobertwilight approached, Ree began to watch for John's coming. He hadlistened from time to time but had heard no gun discharged, and helaughed to himself as he thought what John's chagrin would be if he wereobliged to come into camp empty-handed. And when Old Sol, slipped out ofsight and his chum had not appeared, he inwardly commented: "You wentfarther into the woods than was good for you, my boy! I suspect I havealready left you a good ways behind."

  So he drove to a little knoll beneath an old oak, and unhitched. Hekindled a fire, then busied himself straightening up some of the boxesand bundles which had slipped from position du
ring the day, oftenstopping to look back along the trail in hope of seeing John; and whenthe darkness had become so dense he could see but a few rods from thecamp-fire and still his chum was missing, alarm invaded Ree's thoughts.He could not imagine what detained the boy. But he toasted some bread andbroiled some bacon for his supper.

  A sense of loneliness over his solitary meal added to Ree's anxiety,because of John's non-appearance, and presently he walked back along theroad a considerable distance, whistling the call they had adopted yearsbefore. The darkness gave every object an unnatural, lifelike look;bushes and tree trunks assumed fantastic shapes. No human habitation waswithin miles of the spot, and as the echoes of the whistling died awayand no answer came, Ree was almost frightened. Not for himself but onJohn's account was he conscious of a gloomy foreboding in all histhoughts. What should he do if the boy had fallen a victim of some bear,perhaps, or lawless men.

  Slowly he retraced his steps to the campfire's light. Weighing the wholequestion carefully, however, as to whether he had not better go in searchof his friend, he decided he could do no wiser thing than to remain wherehe was until daylight; then if John had not arrived, he would set out tofind him.

  Piling more wood on the fire that the light might help to guide John tocamp, the lonely boy wrapped a blanket about his shoulders and sat down,resolved to remain awake to watch and listen. He heard only the soughingwind and old Jerry nibbling the short grass nearby, and the hooting of anowl in the forest gloom. Thus an hour passed, and then suddenly a soundof soft footsteps broke upon the boy's ear. Was it John slipping upstealthily to try to scare him? Ree thought it was, but in anotherinstant he detected the foot-falls of more than one person, and sprang tohis feet.

  "How!" The word was spoken in a deep guttural tone almost before Ree hadtime to face about. At the same moment he saw two Indians stalking towardhim.

  "Howdy!" Ree promptly answered, though filled with misgiving; for at aglance he saw that the savages were fully armed. One was of middle age,tall and stately as a king. The other was much younger. As they camewithin reach Ree held out his hand, but the Indian either did not see orrefused to accept the proffered greeting.

  Nevertheless Ree spread a blanket near the fire and asked the savages tosit down. They made no reply. The older of them looked at him intentlyand gazed around in evident surprise to see the lad alone. The youngerstepped around the fire and looked inquiringly into the cart.

  "I am just a trader," said Ree, with an open frankness in his tones whicheven a savage must have appreciated. "There are two of us, but my partnerwent hunting and has not yet come back. Sit down, brothers; I have nofresh meat to offer you, but my friend will soon return with some, Ihope."

  The elder Indian seated himself saying: "White men steal, Indians nosteal."

  "There are good Indians and good white men," answered Ree, but he waskeeping an eye on the younger savage, who seemed to have found somethingin the cart which interested him, for he slyly put his hand inside.

  "Oh, do be seated!" Ree exclaimed as he noticed this. There was irony inhis voice which made the older Indian shrug his shoulders, but the youngwhite man led the Indian brave, a chap but little older than himself,away from the cart. With some force he drew the buck to a blanket andmotioned to him to sit down.

  Appearing to give the matter no further thought, Ree placed bacon beforethe Indians saying simply "Eat." They drew out their knives and cut andbroiled each a slice of the meat. This they ate, and it was ratherremarkable that they did so, for Ree well knew that the Redskins had norelish for food which had been freely salted. He therefore judged theireating to be a sign of friendliness, and seated himself quietly by thefire.

  "White man go far--goes to Ohio? Yes--long way--far--far. Snow comes;hurry fast," said the older Indian.

  "Yes," said Ree, guessing at the speaker's meaning. "We have a long wayto go, and must be in our cabin before deep snow comes."

  "Delaware country--much game," the Indian was saying, Ree having told himwhither they were bound, when suddenly a rifle cracked behind them and abullet whistled past Ree's ear. The young Indian at the opposite side ofthe fire, gasped and fell backward.

  Seizing his rifle, Ree instantly sprang away from the firelight. Theelder redskin did likewise and just as quickly.

  Who could have fired the shot? Ree trembled with dread that it had beenJohn. All was quiet save for the night wind rustling the leaves andbranches overhead. There came no sound to indicate whose hand had spedthe bullet from out of the forest gloom.

  A minute passed. It seemed like ten, to Return Kingdom, and, forgettingprudence, he stepped from behind the cart's protection, full into thecampfire's ruddy glow, making of himself an easy target. He bent over thewounded Indian and found the blood flowing from a wound in the youngbrave's neck. Quickly he tied his handkerchief about the injury, thenbathed the fellow's forehead and temples with water from the bucket hehad filled at supper time. The older Indian crept up to watch thisoperation, but did not come fully within the lighted circle.

  "Who fired that shot, my friend?" Ree asked, very earnestly.

  "White men steal," the Indian answered, and shook his head.

  It was evident then that the savage suspected some white person of havingmade this attack with intent to commit robbery. Ree hoped this was thetruth of the matter but there was a terrible suspicion growing in hismind that his own friend and partner, through some awful mistake, hadfired upon the Indian. He drew the wounded man to the rear of the cartand placed him on a blanket beyond the campfire's light. The other savagemade no move to help him, but crouched in the darkness intentlylistening, watching.

  Of a sudden the Indian's rifle flew like a flash to his shoulder. At thesame instant Ree heard John Jerome's familiar whistle, and springingforward, seized the red man's weapon in time to prevent the speeding of aleaden messenger of death to his friend's heart. He answered John's callas he did this, praying and hoping that it could not--must not, have beenhis friend who had fired the shot which would probably end the youngerIndian's life.