The Pioneer Boys of the Mississippi; or, The Homestead in the Wilderness

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER VIII

  THE TREASURE BOX THAT WAS FORGOTTEN

  AS this thrilling cry rang through the settlement, supplemented by thewild peals of the alarm bell in the block house, all the inmates ofDavid Armstrong's cabin were on their feet.

  Sleep had been banished as if by magic; indeed, the boys had never feltmore wide-awake in all their lives. And there was plenty to do, as wellas willing hands with which to accomplish the labor.

  Fortunate indeed did it prove that everybody had anticipated thissudden necessity, and that the scanty household goods, some of themprecious only through their associations with that Virginia of thepast, had been so packed that they could be carried to higher ground,and a place of safety, in a very brief time.

  Indeed, so rapidly was the water coming up now, that, by the time thelast piece had been taken from the Armstrong cabin it commenced totrickle over the door-sill. Bob's last visit was made with more or lesssplashing, as he strode around the familiar interior, now looking sostrange with the floor covered by the flood.

  Some of the settlers, Mr. Armstrong among them, had made use of thestrongest ropes they could obtain, to tie their cabins to convenienttrees, hoping that in this way they might add to their security. Whenthe strength of the current and the hulk of those log cabins was takeninto consideration, however, this hope did not have a great deal torest upon.

  There now seemed nothing left to do but cluster there beyond the edgeof the river, and take note of its constant rise. All whose cabins werein danger had saved their goods, and in this considered themselveslucky. New cabins could of course be built, since there was wood inplenty, and stout arms to swing the axe; but these family possessionscould never have been replaced.

  There was one little consolation, slender though it might appear; theclouds had finally broken, and the stars were shining. It seemed almostas though the myriad bright eyes of heaven were peeping out, to see theextent of the damage and woe that had been wrought.

  Unable to stand quiet and watch the raging waters creep up aroundthe walls of their late home, the Armstrong boys joined the group notfar away. Fires had been lighted, and the glow of these added to theweirdness of the scene, as the settlers moved to and fro, comparingnotes, trying to find comfort in their mutual troubles, and seizing onthe slightest grain of hope afforded by reports that the crest of therise must surely have come, after which the waters would go down again.

  "What is Pat O'Mara talking so fiercely about?" asked Bob, as he joinedthe group, after having been off to see how things were getting on inthe direction of the river; and Sandy, who had remained where most ofthe homeless families had congregated, turned with a frown on his face.

  "It is about those miserable French trappers," he replied.

  "But what of them?" persisted Bob; "surely we need not fear theirsetting fire to our cabin just now; and even Pat, who hates those menso much, could not well accuse them of having turned this water loose."

  "That is all very true, Bob; but one of the settlers has just mentionedthe fact that he felt almost positive he ran across two men, dressedlike trappers, who were hurrying away from the settlement. He calledout to them, thinking that they might be friends, but they paid no heedto his hail. And, as he got to thinking the matter over, all at once itstruck him who they must have been."

  "When was it that he saw them?" demanded Bob, immediately concerned.

  "It may have been an hour or so ago; about the time the water wasrising around our cabin, and, unable to bear the sight, we came here,"Sandy replied. "They are all wondering what could have brought thosemen here at such a time; and every one seems to think that it musthave been the hope of laying their hands on some valuables, while thesettlers were given up to excitement."

  "That looks like it, Sandy," the other replied, quickly. "All havepiled up whatever they possess in a heap, not caring where it lies solong as the waters cannot carry it off. But people are there on thewatch all the time, and children snuggled down in the midst of thebedclothes; so it doesn't seem as if those men could find much worthcarrying off."

  "Well, Pat is as angry as a bull at sight of a red kerchief," Sandycontinued. "You know how he hates and despises everything that isFrench. He vows that, if he can only get one glimpse of either Jacquesor Henri, his rifle will speak; and it seldom does that withoutsomething dropping."

  "Were they leaving the settlement at the time this man saw them?" askedBob.

  "That was what he thought," his brother replied. "When he called out,they seemed to hasten their footsteps, as though fearful that he mighttry to detain them. He says he stood and wondered who they could be,and why they refused to answer his hail. It was only when too late thatthe truth flashed into his mind."

  "Well, if they are gone, let us hope it is for good," remarked Bob.

  "But why should they be around here at all, when they know thehostility of the English settlers toward the French?" asked Sandy. "Itis always war between them, and especially in the wilderness wherethe trap lines run. Each claims all the country between here and theMississippi; together with all the fur-bearing animals that can befound there. And that dispute will never be settled without a bloodywar."

  "Perhaps they meant to either try and rob some of the settlers here,or else set fire to our home," Bob ventured to say. "The coming of theflood changed their plans; and, as the people were all aroused, theymust have decided that it was too dangerous for them to stay aroundhere. And so, at the time they were seen, Jacques and Henri may havebeen scuttling out."

  "How is it at the cabin?" asked Sandy, with a tremor in his voice; for,truth to tell, he felt the impending catastrophe even more than hisbrother did, and could not bear to look upon what seemed to be the doomof their home.

  "I'm sorry to say the water seems still to be rising, and we must notallow ourselves to cling to much hope that it can be saved," was Bob'sreply. "I feel more for mother and Kate than the rest of us. They sitthere among our goods, white of face, but trying to bear up. Fathercheers them with a few words every now and then; but they know he onlytalks that way because he cannot bear to see them so miserable, and notthat he really believes the flood is at a standstill."

  "Poor father and mother, they have had so many things to bear with,"said Sandy. "We must try to look cheerful, just for their sakes. Andbesides, you know, at the worst it may mean a change of base for us,Bob."

  "I know what you are thinking of, Sandy," the other remarked, with ashake of his head. "That Mississippi idea will not let go of you."

  "But others are really talking about it right now, Bob, I tell you,"Sandy insisted, earnestly. "You would be surprised to know how manyheads of families are thinking that it would be a splendid undertakingto leave this country, where misfortune has overtaken them, and gofurther into the golden west. There was Mr. Harness for one, Mr.Bancroft for another, and possibly Mr. Wayne. Something seems to tellme, brother, that the coming of this flood, terrible though it appears,will be the very means of making our father decide to go upon thisundertaking. Oh! I hope so! I hope so! I surely know that it would befor the best; and that we could have a homestead in that beautifulwilderness out yonder, that would far exceed anything ever known alongthe Ohio, with its floods and troublesome Indians."

  "When father makes his mind up, then will be the time for the rest ofus to say what we think," Bob observed. "But we must wait and see.Perhaps, when the waters go down again, our neighbors will forget whatthey said this night, and think it best to rebuild, if their homes havebeen swept away."

  "Come, let us go over, and comfort our mother again," Sandy suggested.

  "A good idea," returned Bob. "This is a time for us to try to lookcheerful, as you say. We are young, and can stand hardships easily; butour parents are growing old now, and such things weigh heavily on them.I'm with you; lead the way."

  They found Mrs. Armstrong and Kate apparently hunting through the pileof household goods for something that seemed to be missing.

  "What is it, mother?" asked Sandy, qui
ckly, scenting possible trouble.

  "I cannot find my little treasure box, in which I kept what fewvaluables I possessed, as well as your wampum belt which Pontiac gaveyou as a pledge of his constant good will," Mrs. Armstrong replied."And, come to think of it, did any of you bring it out of the cabin?You know I kept it on that small shelf above the window."

  The two boys looked at each other in dismay. There was no need to askif either had seen the box of valuables, for the expression on theirfaces told the story.

  "It must be in the cabin still, then!" exclaimed Sandy.

  Forgetting his lame ankle, he turned and hurried away, impulsive asever; and Mrs. Armstrong wrung her hands as she appealed to Bob to stophim.

  "Much as I value the things that are in that little box, not for tentimes their worth would I have one of my boys imperil his life in theeffort to save them. Go as fast as you can, then, Bob, and hold yourhasty brother in check before he takes that dreadful risk!"

  Hardly waiting to hear the last word, Bob was off like a shot. He wasjust in time, for as he came upon Sandy the latter had reached the edgeof the water, and was about to start boldly into the swift current,meaning to swim out to the half-submerged cabin.

  Bob gripped him by the arm, and shouted in his ear:

  "You must not go out there, Sandy, mother says! It would be an act ofmadness. Already the water is over our heads; and look at the way thecabin trembles with the force of the current. It may be carried awayat any minute!"

  And Sandy, with a groan, let his head drop until his chin rested on hischest, for he saw that Bob spoke truly.