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

by St. George Rathborne

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE MAN WITH THE CHARMED LIFE

  "HOW can we let them know we're here, so they'll push in close enough,and anchor, while some one comes for us in the dugout?" Sandy inquired.

  Pat had prepared for that, too, it seemed.

  "I'm to flash a bit av powder to till them we're waitin' beyant thep'int av land," he remarked; "and 'tis mesilf as had better be gettin'ready to do the same in a hurry, for they do be comin' along rightfast."

  He placed a small amount of the precious powder on a stone, and thenheld his flint and steel in readiness until such time as the boat cameclose enough to suit his purpose.

  Then it was no effort for the experienced trapper to send a spark intothe little pile of powder, which went off instantly, giving a brief butvivid flash.

  All eyes were on the advancing flatboat, for it was a matter ofimportance to them to know whether the signal had been seen or not.

  "There, they know we are here, and want to get aboard!" exclaimedSandy, as a single shot came from the deck of the boat.

  "If any of the Indians were on the watch, and saw the flash of powder,as well as the gunshot, they might give a guess what we were up to,"Bob remarked.

  "We'll hope, then, they gave up chasing after the boat, when they sawit was no use," Sandy added.

  The flatboat was now close by, and they could even see moving figureson the deck. The two boys felt positive that among them were theiranxious parents; and the fact made them all the more eager to getsafely aboard.

  "Now they're going to anchor!" declared Sandy; "and I can see somebodydropping back into the dugout that trails astern. Let's get ready toput our meat aboard, and follow with ourselves."

  Immediately the small boat started straight for the end of the tongueof land, as though the paddler knew that those he sought were apt tobe close by that point. Still grunting with his painful ankle, Patinsisted on picking up his share of the venison, with which he limpedforward.

  It was Mr. Armstrong himself who came in the dugout. So eager was he tomake sure that both his boys were safe, that he would not let any oneelse attempt this part of the rescue work.

  Sandy started to tell what had happened, but Bob stopped all talk, andurged him to get in the boat without a second's delay, after all thevenison, together with the lame trapper, had been deposited there.

  There would be plenty of time for explanations later on, when dangerdid not hang so heavily over their heads.

  With all his might Mr. Armstrong urged the little craft, now reallyoverloaded, out toward the anchored flatboat. At any second Bobexpected to hear the shout of a coming brave, and perhaps have thereport of a gun break upon his ear. Until they had clambered aboard thelarger craft, he did not feel that they could call themselves safe.

  But when finally every one of them had climbed over the side, bothSandy and Bob felt like giving a shout of thanksgiving.

  They were met by the fond arms of their mother, and pressed to herheart; for no one knew all that she must have suffered after hearingthose terribly significant six shots, telling them cruel foes wereabroad, and that they must apparently abandon the three who were ashore.

  The anchor had hardly been raised than one of the men reported seeingshadowy figures flitting along the tongue of land; but as the unwieldycraft again commenced to pass down with the current, and they knew thatonce more the foe had been left in the lurch, those on board gave freerein to their joy in loud cheers.

  A few disappointed yells announced that they had not passed on any toosoon; and the boys decided that they had great reason to be thankfulover their narrow escape.

  And later on, when the dearly-won venison was lifted out of the dugoutthat trailed astern, the thought of having fresh meat gave them allmuch satisfaction.

  Of course the boys had to tell their story over and over again, whilemany questions were asked regarding the coming of the Indians.

  "How do you think they knew we were there?" asked Mr. Harkness.

  "Pat says a brave must have sighted the boat, and followed it until wecame to land," remarked Bob. "Then he hastened to his village, whichmay be back here a few miles, and a war party was hurriedly made up.Only for our discovering them as they passed along that ridge, the endmight not be so nice as it is."

  It was determined that their best course would be to put boldly acrossthe river, and pass down the northern shore. This could be accomplishedby means of the big sweeps; and already several of the men were workingthem.

  An hour or two later they were in touch with the northern side ofthe stream; and, as the moon began to show signs of setting, theydetermined to anchor, as the recent scare had taken away all desire totie up to the shore.

  There was no further trouble that night, and another morning foundthem in high spirits. Pat's sprain still bothered him, more or less,and would for some days to come; but Mrs. Armstrong had bound some ofher wonderful healing salve upon the swollen ankle, and the trapperdeclared he was doing much better than he had even hoped would be thecase.

  A day of peace followed. They drifted along not a great distancefrom the shore, and yet keeping away from any dangerous points,where enemies might be in hiding, bent on getting a shot at the whitevoyagers.

  Sandy did more or less fishing as they went, and had some success,though he found it better to delay his best efforts until they weretied up for the night. As for Bob, he noticed that there were stillflocks of wild fowl on the river at various points, and, longing tobag a few, he awaited his time, when a shot was apt to count, and thenshowed what a good marksman he was.

  Altogether they were doing splendidly, and had little cause forcomplaint when night closed in around them. They tied up this time, forthere had been no sign of Indians the livelong day, and, as Pat wasin no condition to scout around, one of the men volunteered to takehis place. When he came in later, he declared that, so far as he coulddiscover, there was not an enemy within ten miles of them.

  That night passed without any alarm, for which all of them felt verythankful, since they had lost considerable sleep the night before; andit seemed like old times to be able to repose in comfort, only arousingto take a turn at sentry duty, according to the routine arranged.

  The next day was really a repetition of that peaceful one. Sandydeclared that he thought all the bad Indians must be on the Kentuckyside of the Ohio, and that, if they were wise, they would remain on thenorthern shore from that time on; but Pat gave him to understand thatit was six of one and half a dozen of the other, since marauding bandswere constantly on the move, visiting between villages, or joiningforces for a raid against the settlements of the hated palefaces.

  It was about the middle of the afternoon when one of the men declaredthat he felt sure he had heard the distant report of firearms, and whatseemed to be faint yells, from some point down the river.

  Of course this excited everybody aboard the flatboat, from the oldestman down to the children, who were of an age to appreciate the perilsby which they were constantly surrounded.

  Some little time afterwards there was a cry raised that a man had beenseen running over an elevation on the shore, and hotly pursued, itseemed, by the Indians.

  Mr. Armstrong, realizing that perhaps another crisis was impending,ordered that the women and children should remain in the shelter ofthe cabin, while the rest crouched on deck, awaiting the turn of events.

  "I see him now!" cried Sandy; "and, sure enough, he's pushing for theriver as fast as his legs will carry him."

  "And there come the savages chasing after him," declared Bob. "There,now one stops, and sends an arrow, while another fires his gun; but hestill runs on, and I do not think they could have hit him, because hekeeps dodging this way and that all the time, to make them miss."

  "Begorra, now, p'raps they don't be afther wantin' to hit him,"suggested Pat, who was with the others, watching the stirring scene.

  "Oh! he means that this may only be another trick of the Indians, meantto get us to draw in closer, so that the r
est, who are hidden among thebushes, can pour in a volley, and then rush the boat," Sandy burst out.

  "And this time, make yer mind up," said Pat, grimly, "av I have rasonto belave the omadhaun is only a turncoat a-tryin' to lure us in to bekilt, I've a good mind to knock him over, as he desarves."

  "I'd go very slow about that, Pat," advised Mr. Armstrong.

  "For what would ye be sayin' the likes av that, sor?" asked thetrapper, moving his long-barrelled rifle up a little further, as thougheager to begin operations right away.

  "You can see that he's jumped into the water now, and is wading boldlyout, as though he meant to swim out to us when we come along. There, hestands up to his middle in the river, and levels his rifle. Did you seethat savage fall when he fired? Does that look as if he was a renegade,Pat?"

  "Arrah! if we only _knew_ that the hathan were kilt, I'd belave ye,sor; but they do be sindin' in a hape of shots in return; and look atthe water splash around his head as he swims away. Some of the balls dobe strikin' mighty clost, it sames to me."

  "Yes, too close to be fired at a friend and ally," Mr. Armstrong wenton; "and I am positive they were meant to bring him down. There, heshakes his fist at them now, and laughs, as though he did not know themeaning of the word fear."

  "It seems to me I have heard that laugh before," exclaimed Sandy,eagerly.

  "Right ye are, laddy," said Pat, suddenly rousing himself, and loweringhis gun.

  Mr. Armstrong was leaning forward, and surveying the swimmer closely,as though he, too, had detected certain familiar features in connectionwith the party.

  "You'll always be glad you didn't fire so hastily, Pat," he declared;"for upon my word I do believe yonder man who acts as though he weredetermined to come aboard our craft is none other than our friend,Simon Kenton, the borderer, who mocks the efforts of the Indians tofinish him, and has been held a prisoner, doomed to the stake, moretimes than any man along the Ohio!"