Far Past the Frontier

by Braden, James A

  “What a peart kitten ye be!” smiled the man, looking at him quizzically.

  “To be honest with you, we are going to the Ohio country,” said Ree Kingdom, satisfied that the stranger wished to be friendly.

  “Ye’ve got spunk, I swan!” the fellow exclaimed. “Don’t let me be keepin’ ye though; drive along, we kin swap talk as we’re movin’.”

  “How far do you call it to old Fort Pitt?” asked Ree.

  “Well, it ain’t so fer as a bird kin fly, an’ its ferder than ye want to walk in a day. If ye have good luck ye’ll come on to Braddock’s road afore supper time, an’ if ye don’t have good luck, there’s no tellin’ when ye’ll get thar. It want such a great ways from here that Braddock had his bad luck. If he hadn’t had it—if he’d done as George Washington wanted him to, he’d ‘a’ got along like grease on a hot skillet, same as you youngsters.”

  “Hear that John? We will make Fort Pitt in a day or two,” cried Ree.

  “Yaas, it was forty odd years ago that Braddock had his bad luck when he bumped into a lot of Injuns in ambush. I was jest a chunk of a boy then, but I’ve hearn tell on it, many’s the time, by my old gran’sire who learned me how to shoot. I was a reg’lar wonder with a gun when I was your age, kittens. I’ve picked up some since then though! See the knot-hole in that beech way over yonder? Waal, I’m going to put a bullet in the middle of it.”

  Taking aim, the stranger fired. “Ye’ll find the bullet squar’ in the center,” he said, in a boastful way.

  “Shucks!” exclaimed John, who was often too outspoken for his own good. He raised his rifle and fired. “There’s another bullet right beside your own, mister,” he said.

  “Well I swan! So there is!” called out the woodsman in great surprise. “But I’ll bet a coon-skin my tother kitten can’t do the like.”

  Like a flash Ree’s rifle flew to his shoulder and he seemed to take no aim whatever; yet the bullet flew true. But just an instant after he fired the crack of another rifle sounded behind him. A leaden ball shrieked close to his head and a lock of his hair fell fluttering to the ground.

  * * *

  CHAPTER VII.

  On Into the Wilderness.

  Great as the shock of the sudden attack and his narrow escape was, Ree gave only a little yell of surprise and anger, and ran in the direction from which the shot had come, drawing his pistol as he went. He found no one. Though utterly regardless of the danger he might be in by thus exposing himself, he made a careful search.

  “Land o’ livin’, boy, ye’ll be meat for the redskins before ye’ve crossed the frontier, if ye don’t be keerful!” cried the woodsman, quickly coming up, springing from tree to tree, and thus always keeping their protecting trunks between himself and the point from which the mysterious shot had been fired. “What is the varmint pepperin’ away at ye so, for?”

  “I haven’t the least idea, for I don’t know who it is,” Ree answered.

  But he was glad the woodsman’s frank manner left no room to suspect him of treachery, although there had been grounds for this suspicion in the circumstance of the shot having been fired just as his own rifle and that of his friend had been discharged.

  John had remained on guard beside Jerry and the cart, watchful for any sign of their strange enemy, completely mystified by the attack. Presently he joined Ree and the hunter who were searching for the trail of the would-be assassin. Tracks were found at last (high up on the rocky hillside)—those of a white man, for he wore boots; but they were very faint and Ree declared he would waste no time in attempting to follow them.

  “But I do believe, John,” he said, “that the shot which wounded North Wind was intended for me, and the fellow who shot, then, fired again to-day.”

  “You are thinking of Big Pete; I know you are!” John answered. “But I am sure you are mistaken, Ree. Why it was miles and miles away that North Wind was shot, and there hasn’t been a day since then but what we could have both been killed, perhaps, by some one hidden along the road.”

  The woodsman, when he had heard the story, coincided with John’s opinion and Ree said nothing more, though he was not convinced that he was wrong.

  The brisk talk of the stranger turned the boys’ thoughts to other subjects as the journey was resumed. He was by no means a disagreeable fellow. His real name was “Thomas Trout,” he said, but he was everywhere known as “Tom Fish.” He had tramped over all the hills and valleys for miles around and seemed to know the country thoroughly. He accepted the boys’ invitation to eat dinner with them, and gave a share of the pounded parched corn he carried in a pouch at his belt, in return for venison and coarse corn bread, John having baked the latter on a flat stone beside their camp-fire, the previous night.

  When in the afternoon, Tom Fish left the boys he told them they would be likely to see him at Fort Pitt, and gave them many directions as to where they had better “put up” while at Pittsburgh, as he called the place, such being its new name at that time.

  John declared he would not sleep a wink that night, but remain on guard until morning. “For we must be prudent,” he said, in a very sober tone, which from him sounded so funny that Ree laughed outright.

  And yet John was probably as prudent a boy as Ree; for the latter was so almost entirely fearless that he rushed into danger in a way not prudent at all, and many severe lessons which he learned afterward did not make him cautious as he should have been.

  The night passed without one disturbing incident and the rising sun found the boys on their way once more; before its setting they reached Pittsburg.

  “Fort Pitt,” as they were accustomed to call the straggling hamlet, stood at the foot of the hills at the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers. Because of its location it was an important place and even at the time of which this is written (1790) was a point much frequented by traders, trappers and hunters.

  It was with a feeling of awe, that Ree and John drove into the town, and noticed its old fort, its brick and log buildings and general air of pioneer hospitality. People stared at them, and some called to them in the familiar way of the border; but everyone was good-natured and helpful and almost before the boys knew it their horse had been unhitched and fed and they themselves were eating supper in a long, low brick building which served as a sort of public house.

  From the first it had been the young travelers’ intention to sell their horse and cart at Fort Pitt and secure passage for themselves and goods on some flat-boat going down the river. They spoke of the settlement which General Putnam and others had made at a place they called Marietta (still known by that name) as their destination, and gave a general idea of their plans to the men who talked with them as they gathered about the big fire-place in the evening. They found they would probably be able to secure transportation down the Ohio within a few days, in company with a party of emigrants who had been building boats for the trip, expecting to go to Kentucky.

  When the young travelers started out next morning to find a purchaser for old Jerry, however, they discovered that at that time of year, the demand for such property was far from brisk. As they walked along the main street or road, they chanced upon Tom Fish, who hailed them in his rough, but happy way, and they told him just how they were situated.

  “Don’t sell the nag, then; come right along with me. I’ll show you the way into a country full of Injuns and game enough to suit ye, in short order; an’ ye won’t have to pay no passage down river. Why, there’s jes the spot ye’re lookin’ for west o’ here—rivers an’ little lakes, an’ fish an’ game—no end o’ game. Good place for tradin’ too; Injun towns every forty rods or so.”

  The woodsman then went on to tell the boys that several years earlier, a fort, known as Fort Laurens, had been erected on the Tuscarawas river, in the woods beyond Pittsburg. He was planning to go in that direction, for a purpose he did not state, and would willingly act as guide. He cautioned the boys, however, that there was little sign of a broken road for them to travel up
on and that Fort Laurens had long been abandoned because of the hostility of the savages. But the confidence of the young traders that they could make friends with the Indians, and Tom’s glowing accounts of the country of which he spoke, caused them to look with favor upon his proposition.

  “We will think about this matter,” said Ree, “and let you know. You will be here a day or two?”

  “Yaas, a day or two,” said Tom Fish. “But don’t let me influence ye; it’s mighty reesky business you kittens is bent on.”

  “It seems to me like a good plan,” Ree reflected aloud, when he and John were alone. “If we went to General Putnam’s settlement we would still feel that we must go up the Muskingum river to reach the Indians and profitable trading, and would have to build a raft or buy a boat to carry our goods. Moreover, people here say that within a few years the country all about Pittsburg will be settled up and that land will become valuable.”

  “Whatever you say suits me,” said John with a laugh; and then and there Ree gave him a talking to for being so ready to accept the judgment of another, instead of having thoughts and opinions of his own.

  But one or two ridiculously low offers the boys received for their horse and cart, and the discovery that they could not find room on the boat down the Ohio except at a fancy price, resulted in their decision to join Tom Fish. They talked all day of the subject, but when they went to bed that night, they knew that not for many months to come would they sleep again within the borders of civilization.

  A frosty November morning ushered in another day, and early as they were astir Ree and John found the little town wide awake. Tom Fish was sky-larking all about saying good-bye to friends, and just a little under the influence of whiskey. It seemed that everybody knew him; and people having found out from Tom what they had not already found out from others, about the venturesome lads from Connecticut, quite an assemblage gathered to wish the travelers good luck.

  A repeated suggestion which had been made to the boys was that they should abandon their cart and take with them only such goods as they could carry by using old Jerry as a pack-horse. It was true that for a portion of the distance they proposed to travel, there was a rough road, but beyond Fort McIntosh, at the mouth of the Beaver river, they would have no road but the rough Indian trail. But Tom Fish said he “reckoned old Colonel Boquet’s road was still there,” and that they should take the cart; and they did so.

  Tom had joined the boys as their clumsy vehicle creaked along a muddy street, a little more serious than usual, because of some news he had heard, he said, but boastful as ever.

  “I was talkin’ to a big seven-footer in the tavern last night,” he said—“A feller that had a grudge ag‘in’ me once. He never liked me till I threw him over a house one day;—threw him clean over a house. It makes me larff!”

  John laughed, too, at this, but he said: “Tom Fish, you weigh a good three stone (forty-two) more than I do, but I believe I could throw you in a wrestle. When we stop for dinner, I am going to put you on your back!”

  A laugh long and loud came from the woodsman’s throat. “Why, what a playful kitten ye be!” he exclaimed. “Why, I could toss ye up in the air and ketch ye nigh a dozen times whilst ye were only thinkin’ of throwin’ me.”

  “I’d like to see you try it,” cried John.

  “Put aside your nonsense, you two, until noon, now do,” Ree laughingly urged, “and tell us, Tom, of that Colonel Boquet whose road we are to follow.”

  “Waal, that’s quite a yarn,” said Tom Fish. “But le’ me see now; le’ me see. It was back when I was jes a young buck, ’long ’bout ’64, that this Colonel Boquet, who was a mighty decent citizen for a Frenchman, made up his mind to get a whack at the pesky Injuns which had been killin’ an’ scalpin’ an’ burnin’ an’ robbin’ all along the border of Pennsylvania an’ Virginia an’ Lord knows where all.

  “Waal, the state of Pennsylvania an’ the state of Virginia helped him with sojers an’ he mustered scouts enough so that in all he had nigh onto 2,000 men. He marched ’em straight into the woods, the whole caboodle on ’em, clearin’ a road as he went, an’ takin’ along a lot o’ sheep an’ cows, and provender for the sojers without end. He went straight along till he come to the Muskingum river, an’ there he camped out, makin’ a show with all his men an’ pack-horses an’ everything, that scared the Mingoes an’ the Delawares half to death for fear he’d stay right there an’ build a town amongst ’em.

  “They was willin’ to do most anything to get rid of him, an’ there was only one thing that he would hear to. He give ’em jes’ ten days to trot into his camp every prisoner they had in all their towns far an’ near, an’ told ’em that if ary a one was held back, he’d march on every pesky village an’ knock ’em sky high an’ burn ’em down.

  “Waal! them Injuns was so scared, they commenced gettin’ their prisoners together right off, and they trotted two hundred on ’em up to the front door of Colonel Boquet’s tent inside them ten days. An’ there was doin’s for sartin then!—Pow wows among the sojers who found all sorts of relations that the Delawares or the Wyandots or the pesky Mingoes had carried off, an’ pow wows among the men, an’ the women an’ the children that was brought out o’ their captivity like the Children of Israel.

  “Then Colonel Boquet marched ’em all back to Fort Pitt an’ he sent for me an’ told me what he’d done, an’ asked me what I thought on it. I was scoutin’ out of Fort Pitt then, and I jes’ shook his hand an’ says: ‘Colonel Boquet ye’re a reg’lar rip-snorter.’”

  “Did you ever hear of the terrible Captain Archer, the outlaw of war times?” asked the fun-loving John, inventing the name to see what Tom would say; for he had his own opinion as to Colonel Boquet having asked Thomas Fish what he thought of that Indian expedition.

  “Cap. Archer? Old Cap. Archer! Well I rayther guess I knew him, an’ if he ain’t forgot it, he carries a little lead pill out of my old steel bottle of Injun medicine, clean to this day. Yaas, many a scrimmage I had with old Cap. Archer.”

  John was for carrying his questioning further, though he could hardly keep from laughing, but Ree shook his head, unwilling to make fun of one who was so kind to them.

  The travelers made excellent progress that morning, finding a very fair road for that rough country, along the river. They met occasional settlers and hunters and whether he knew them or not, Tom Fish always stopped to talk and always asked whether everything was quiet along the border. Many shook their heads, and spoke gloomily of the outlook for peace with the Indians remaining long unbroken.

  From a couple of friendly Indians they met, Ree secured a quarter of venison in exchange for a cheap trinket, and although he accompanied the performance with a great deal of bragging, Tom did show the boys that he was a past-master in the art of broiling venison steaks. The fine dinner they had as a result, set his tongue wagging more than ever, however, and John Jerome was more than anxious to take some of the vanity out of him.

  They had camped upon a hillside sloping down to the river—the Ohio. The day had come on bright and warm as Indian summer could be, and John had thrown off his coat.

  “Now, Mr. Fish,” he said with a laugh, “You see the river down there? I’ve been thinking there may be some one of the same name as yourself in that water, and I’ve a mind to send you to visit your relations.”

  The merry laugh of the hunter rang shrill and clear.

  “Be ye? Oh, be ye?” he cried, jumping to his feet. “If it wa‘n’t fer hurtin’ ye, I’d throw ye clean across to yon hillside!” and he pointed to a spot nearly a mile away, across the river.

  “It’s a good thing for you there are so many leaves on the ground to break your fall,” John answered, rolling up his sleeves.

  “Don’t wrestle so much with your mouths,” Ree admonished them.

  “Why, I could handle both of ye; come on, the two of ye to onc’t!” the hunter cried.

  But the next moment he found in John, alone, about as much of a
task as he cared to undertake. For two minutes they heaved and tugged, John’s wiry frame seeming to be all around the woodsman, who was by no means clumsy, though he could not put him down. Then they broke apart and for a minute made feints at one another, each hoping to secure an advantage.

  At last the hunter’s arms shot out, his hands seized John’s arms so quickly, and he lifted the boy off his feet and keeled him over with such dexterity, that the lad lay sprawling on his back almost before he knew what was happening.

  The glee of Tom Fish was quite ridiculous. He danced about and almost screamed with laughter.

  “It is your turn, Ree,” said John good-naturedly.

  “Whenever our friend is ready,” Ree responded.

  “Come on! Come on!” Tom cried. “Oh, what frisky kittens ye be!”

  Peter Piper, the half-breed, had taught Return Kingdom a trick or two at wrestling. And now he allowed the hunter to lift him off the ground, then he let his muscles relax, his dead weight falling in his opponent’s arms. Suddenly getting his feet to the ground in this way, he sprang against the hunter’s muscular frame with such rapidity of thought and motion that he was able by a tremendous lightning-like effort to jerk one of the man’s legs from under him, sending him down, while he, himself, came uppermost.

  “Ye’re pretty fair,” Tom Fish muttered; but it was plain to be seen that something he very little expected had happened to him.

  * * *

  CHAPTER VIII.

  Friends or Foes?

  Tom Fish had a profound respect for Return Kingdom from the moment the latter threw him; but he was no less pleasant and agreeable than before, and he proved himself a valuable friend then and in days long afterward.

  When night came, as the wind was blowing cold, Tom very deftly built a shelter of branches and small saplings. His way of bending two little trees down and fastening them together with their own branches, making of them the support of the “shack,” was a method Ree and John had never seen used and was the secret of his being able to “build a house” in very little time.