The Spirit of the Border: A Romance of the Early Settlers in the Ohio Valley

by Zane Grey

  Chapter IV.

  As the rafts drifted with the current the voyagers saw the settlerson the landing-place diminish until they had faded from indistinctfigures to mere black specks against the green background. Then camethe last wave of a white scarf, faintly in the distance, and atlength the dark outline of the fort was all that remained to theirregretful gaze. Quickly that, too, disappeared behind the greenhill, which, with its bold front, forces the river to take a wideturn.

  The Ohio, winding in its course between high, wooded bluffs, rolledon and on into the wilderness.

  Beautiful as was the ever-changing scenery, rugged gray-faced cliffson one side contrasting with green-clad hills on the other, therehovered over land and water something more striking than beauty.Above all hung a still atmosphere of calmness--of loneliness.

  And this penetrating solitude marred somewhat the pleasure whichmight have been found in the picturesque scenery, and caused thevoyagers, to whom this country was new, to take less interest in thegaily-feathered birds and stealthy animals that were to be seen onthe way. By the forms of wild life along the banks of the river,this strange intruder on their peace was regarded with attention.The birds and beasts evinced little fear of the floating rafts. Thesandhill crane, stalking along the shore, lifted his long neck asthe unfamiliar thing came floating by, and then stood still andsilent as a statue until the rafts disappeared from view.Blue-herons feeding along the bars, saw the unusual spectacle, and,uttering surprised "booms," they spread wide wings and lumbered awayalong the shore. The crows circled above the voyagers, cawing in notunfriendly excitement. Smaller birds alighted on the raised poles,and several--a robin, a catbird and a little brown wren--venturedwith hesitating boldness to peck at the crumbs the girls threw tothem. Deer waded knee-deep in the shallow water, and, lifting theirheads, instantly became motionless and absorbed. Occasionally abuffalo appeared on a level stretch of bank, and, tossing his hugehead, seemed inclined to resent the coming of this stranger into hisdomain.

  All day the rafts drifted steadily and swiftly down the river,presenting to the little party ever-varying pictures of denselywooded hills, of jutting, broken cliffs with scant evergreen growth;of long reaches of sandy bar that glistened golden in the sunlight,and over all the flight and call of wildfowl, the flitting ofwoodland songsters, and now and then the whistle and bellow of thehorned watchers in the forest.

  The intense blue of the vault above began to pale, and low down inthe west a few fleecy clouds, gorgeously golden for a fleetinginstant, then crimson-crowned for another, shaded and darkened asthe setting sun sank behind the hills. Presently the red raysdisappeared, a pink glow suffused the heavens, and at last, as graytwilight stole down over the hill-tops, the crescent moon peepedabove the wooded fringe of the western bluffs.

  "Hard an' fast she is," sang out Jeff Lynn, as he fastened the ropeto a tree at the head of a small island. "All off now, and' we'llhev' supper. Thar's a fine spring under yon curly birch, an' Ifetched along a leg of deer-meat. Hungry, little 'un?"

  He had worked hard all day steering the rafts, yet Nell had seen himsmiling at her many times during the journey, and he had found timebefore the early start to arrange for her a comfortable seat. Therewas now a solicitude in the frontiersman's voice that touched her.

  "I am famished," she replied, with her bright smile. "I am afraid Icould eat a whole deer."

  They all climbed the sandy slope, and found themselves on the summitof an oval island, with a pretty glade in the middle surrounded bybirches. Bill, the second raftsman, a stolid, silent man, at onceswung his axe upon a log of driftwood. Mr. Wells and Jim walked toand fro under the birches, and Kate and Nell sat on the grasswatching with great interest the old helmsman as he came up from theriver, his brown hands and face shining from the scrubbing he hadgiven them. Soon he had a fire cheerfully blazing, and after layingout the few utensils, he addressed himself to Joe:

  "I'll tell ye right here, lad, good venison kin be spoiled by badcuttin' and cookin'. You're slicin' it too thick. See--thar! Nowsalt good, an' keep outen the flame; on the red coals is best."

  With a sharpened stick Jeff held the thin slices over the fire for afew moments. Then he laid them aside on some clean white-oak chipsBill's axe had provided. The simple meal of meat, bread, andafterward a drink of the cold spring water, was keenly relished bythe hungry voyagers. When it had been eaten, Jeff threw a log on thefire and remarked:

  "Seein' as how we won't be in redskin territory fer awhile yit, wekin hev a fire. I'll allow ye'll all be chilly and damp fromriver-mist afore long, so toast yerselves good."

  "How far have we come to-day?" inquired Mr. Wells, his mind alwaysintent on reaching the scene of his cherished undertaking.

  "'Bout thirty-odd mile, I reckon. Not much on a trip, thet's sartin,but we'll pick up termorrer. We've some quicker water, an' the raftshev to go separate."

  "How quiet!" exclaimed Kate, suddenly breaking the silence thatfollowed the frontiersman's answer.

  "Beautiful!" impetuously said Nell, looking up at Joe. A quick flashfrom his gray eyes answered her; he did not speak; indeed he hadsaid little to her since the start, but his glance showed her howglad he was that she felt the sweetness and content of this wildland.

  "I was never in a wilderness before," broke in the earnest voice ofthe young minister. "I feel an almost overpowering sense ofloneliness. I want to get near to you all; I feel lost. Yet it isgrand, sublime!"

  "Here is the promised land--the fruitful life--Nature as it wascreated by God," replied the old minister, impressively.

  "Tell us a story," said Nell to the old frontiersman, as he oncemore joined the circle round the fire.

  "So, little 'un, ye want a story?" queried Jeff, taking up a livecoal and placing it in the bowl of his pipe. He took off hiscoon-skin cap and carefully laid it aside. His weather-beaten facebeamed in answer to the girl's request. He drew a long and audiblepull at his black pipe, and send forth slowly a cloud of whitesmoke. Deliberately poking the fire with a stick, as if stirringinto life dead embers of the past, he sucked again at his pipe, andemitted a great puff of smoke that completely enveloped the grizzledhead. From out that white cloud came his drawling voice.

  "Ye've seen thet big curly birch over thar--thet 'un as bends kindof sorrowful like. Wal, it used to stand straight an' proud. I'veknowed thet tree all the years I've navigated this river, an' itseems natural like to me thet it now droops dyin', fer it shades thegrave of as young, an' sweet, an' purty a lass as yerself, MissNell. Rivermen called this island George's Island, 'cause Washingtononct camped here; but of late years the name's got changed, an' themen say suthin' like this: 'We'll try an' make Milly's birch aforesundown,' jest as Bill and me hev done to-day. Some years agone Iwas comin' up from Fort Henry, an' had on board my slow old scow alass named Milly--we never learned her other name. She come to me atthe fort, an' tells as how her folks hed been killed by Injuns, an'she wanted to git back to Pitt to meet her sweetheart. I was ag'inher comin' all along, an' fust off I said 'No.' But when I seentears in her blue eyes, an' she puts her little hand on mine, I jestwilted, an' says to Jim Blair, 'She goes.' Wal, jest as might hevbeen expected--an' fact is I looked fer it--we wus tackled byredskins. Somehow, Jim Girty got wind of us hevin' a lass aboard,an' he ketched up with us jest below here. It's a bad place, calledShawnee Rock, an' I'll show it to ye termorrer. The renegade, withhis red devils, attacked us thar, an' we had a time gittin' away.Milly wus shot. She lived fer awhile, a couple of days, an' all thetime wus so patient, an' sweet, an' brave with thet renegade'sbullet in her--fer he shot her when he seen he couldn't captureher--thet thar wusn't a blame man of us who wouldn't hev died togrant her prayer, which wus that she could live to onct more see herlover."

  There was a long silence, during which the old frontiersman satgazing into the fire with sad eyes.

  "We couldn't do nuthin', an' we buried her thar under thet birch,where she smiled her last sad, sweet smile, an' died. Ever sincethen the river has been eatn' aw
ay at this island. It's only half asbig as it wus onct, an' another flood will take away this sand-bar,these few birches--an' Milly's grave."

  The old frontiersman's story affected all his listeners. The elderminister bowed his head and prayed that no such fate might overtakehis nieces. The young minister looked again, as he had many timesthat day, at Nell's winsome face. The girls cast grave glances atthe drooping birch, and their bright tears glistened in thefire-glow. Once more Joe's eyes glinted with that steely flash, andas he gazed out over the wide, darkening expanse of water his facegrew cold and rigid.

  "I'll allow I might hev told a more cheerful story, an' I'll do sonext time; but I wanted ye all, particular the lasses, to knowsomethin' of the kind of country ye're goin' into. The frontierneeds women; but jist yit it deals hard with them. An' Jim Girty,with more of his kind, ain't dead yit."

  "Why don't some one kill him?" was Joe's sharp question.

  "Easier said than done, lad. Jim Girty is a white traitor, but he'sa cunnin' an' fierce redskin in his ways an' life. He knows thewoods as a crow does, an' keeps outer sight 'cept when he's leastexpected. Then ag'in, he's got Simon Girty, his brother, an' almostthe whole redskin tribe behind him. Injuns stick close to a whiteman that has turned ag'inst his own people, an' Jim Girty hain'tever been ketched. Howsumever, I heard last trip thet he'd beentryin' some of his tricks round Fort Henry, an' thet Wetzel is onhis trail. Wal, if it's so thet Lew Wetzel is arter him, I wouldn'tgive a pinch o' powder fer the white-redskin's chances of a longlife."

  No one spoke, and Jeff, after knocking the ashes from his pipe, wentdown to the raft, returning shortly afterward with his blanket. Thishe laid down and rolled himself in it. Presently from under hiscoon-skin cap came the words:

  "Wal, I've turned in, an' I advise ye all to do the same."

  All save Joe and Nell acted on Jeff's suggestion. For a long timethe young couple sat close together on the bank, gazing at themoonlight on the river.

  The night was perfect. A cool wind fanned the dying embers of thefire and softly stirred the leaves. Earlier in the evening a singlefrog had voiced his protest against the loneliness; but now hisdismal croak was no longer heard. A snipe, belated in his feeding,ran along the sandy shore uttering his tweet-tweet, and his littlecry, breaking in so softly on the silence, seemed only to make moredeeply felt the great vast stillness of the night.

  Joe's arm was around Nell. She had demurred at first, but he gave noheed to her slight resistance, and finally her head rested againsthis shoulder. There was no need of words.

  Joe had a pleasurable sense of her nearness, and there was a delightin the fragrance of her hair as it waved against his cheek; but justthen love was not uppermost in his mind. All day he had been silentunder the force of an emotion which he could not analyze. Somepower, some feeling in which the thought of Nell had no share, wasdrawing him with irresistible strength. Nell had just begun tosurrender to him in the sweetness of her passion; and yet even withthat knowledge knocking reproachfully at his heart, he could nothelp being absorbed in the shimmering water, in the dark reflectionof the trees, the gloom and shadow of the forest.

  Presently he felt her form relax in his arms; then her soft regularbreathing told him she had fallen asleep and he laughed low tohimself. How she would pout on the morrow when he teased her aboutit! Then, realizing that she was tired with her long day's journey,he reproached himself for keeping her from the needed rest, andinstantly decided to carry her to the raft. Yet such was the noveltyof the situation that he yielded to its charm, and did not go atonce. The moonlight found bright threads in her wavy hair; it shonecaressingly on her quiet face, and tried to steal under the downcastlashes.

  Joe made a movement to rise with her, when she muttered indistinctlyas if speaking to some one. He remembered then she had once told himthat she talked in her sleep, and how greatly it annoyed her. Hemight hear something more with which to tease her; so he listened.

  "Yes--uncle--I will go--Kate, we must--go. . ."

  Another interval of silence, then more murmurings. He distinguishedhis own name, and presently she called clearly, as if answering someinward questioner.

  "I--love him--yes--I love Joe--he has mastered me. Yet I wish hewere--like Jim--Jim who looked at me--so--with his deep eyes--andI. . . ."

  Joe lifted her as if she were a baby, and carrying her down to theraft, gently laid her by her sleeping sister.

  The innocent words which he should not have heard were like a blow.What she would never have acknowledged in her waking hours had beenrevealed in her dreams. He recalled the glance of Jim's eyes as ithad rested on Nell many times that day, and now these things weremost significant.

  He found at the end of the island a great, mossy stone. On this heclimbed, and sat where the moonlight streamed upon him. Graduallythat cold bitterness died out from his face, as it passed from hisheart, and once more he became engrossed in the silver sheen on thewater, the lapping of the waves on the pebbly beach, and in thatspeaking, mysterious silence of the woods.

  * * *

  When the first faint rays of red streaked over the easternhill-tops, and the river mist arose from the water in a vaporycloud, Jeff Lynn rolled out of his blanket, stretched his longlimbs, and gave a hearty call to the morning. His cheerful welcomeawakened all the voyagers except Joe, who had spent the night inwatching and the early morning in fishing.

  "Wal, I'll be darned," ejaculated Jeff as he saw Joe. "Up afore me,an' ketched a string of fish."

  "What are they?" asked Joe, holding up several bronze-backed fish.

  "Bass--black bass, an' thet big feller is a lammin' hefty 'un. How'dye ketch 'em?"

  "I fished for them."

  "Wal, so it 'pears," growled Jeff, once more reluctantly yielding tohis admiration for the lad. "How'd ye wake up so early?"

  "I stayed up all night. I saw three deer swim from the mainland, butnothing else came around."

  "Try yer hand at cleanin' 'em fer breakfast," continued Jeff,beginning to busy himself with preparations for that meal. "Wal,wal, if he ain't surprisin'! He'll do somethin' out here on thefrontier, sure as I'm a born sinner," he muttered to himself,wagging his head in his quaint manner.

  Breakfast over, Jeff transferred the horses to the smaller raft,which he had cut loose from his own, and, giving a few directions toBill, started down-stream with Mr. Wells and the girls.

  The rafts remained close together for a while, but as the currentquickened and was more skillfully taken advantage of by Jeff, thelarger raft gained considerable headway, gradually widening the gapbetween the two.

  All day they drifted. From time to time Joe and Jim waved theirhands to the girls; but the greater portion of their attention wasgiven to quieting the horses. Mose, Joe's big white dog, retired indisgust to the hut, where he watched and dozed by turns. He did notfancy this kind of voyaging. Bill strained his sturdy arms all dayon the steering-oar.

  About the middle of the afternoon Joe observed that the hills grewmore rugged and precipitous, and the river ran faster. He kept aconstant lookout for the wall of rock which marked the point ofdanger. When the sun had disappeared behind the hills, he saw aheada gray rock protruding from the green foliage. It was ponderous,overhanging, and seemed to frown down on the river. This was ShawneeRock. Joe looked long at the cliff, and wondered if there was now anIndian scout hidden behind the pines that skirted the edge.Prominent on the top of the bluff a large, dead tree projected itshoary, twisted branches.

  Bill evidently saw the landmark, for he stopped in his monotonouswalk to and fro across the raft, and pushing his oar amidships helooked ahead for the other raft. The figure of the tall frontiersmancould be plainly seen as he labored at the helm.

  The raft disappeared round a bend, and as it did so Joe saw a whitescarf waved by Nell.

  Bill worked the clumsy craft over toward the right shore where thecurrent was more rapid. He pushed with all his strength, and whenthe oar had reached its widest sweep, he lifted it and ra
n backacross the raft for another push. Joe scanned the river ahead. Hesaw no rapids; only rougher water whirling over some rocks. Theywere where the channel narrowed and ran close to the right-handbank. Under a willow-flanked ledge was a sand-bar. To Joe thereseemed nothing hazardous in drifting through this pass.

  "Bad place ahead," said Bill, observing Joe's survey of the river.

  "It doesn't look so," replied Joe.

  "A raft ain't a boat. We could pole a boat. You has to hev water tofloat logs, an' the river's run out considerable. I'm only afeerdfer the horses. If we hit or drag, they might plunge around a bit."

  When the raft passed into the head of the bend it struck the rocksseveral times, but finally gained the channel safely, and everythingseemed propitious for an easy passage.

  But, greatly to Bill's surprise, the wide craft was caught directlyin the channel, and swung round so that the steering-oar pointedtoward the opposite shore. The water roared a foot deep over thelogs.

  "Hold hard on the horses!" yelled Bill. "Somethin's wrong. I neverseen a snag here."

  The straining mass of logs, insecurely fastened together, rolled andthen pitched loose again, but the short delay had been fatal to thesteering apparatus.

  Joe would have found keen enjoyment in the situation, had it notbeen for his horse, Lance. The thoroughbred was difficult to hold.As Bill was making strenuous efforts to get in a lucky stroke of theoar, he failed to see a long length of grapevine floating like abrown snake of the water below. In the excitement they heeded notthe barking of Mose. Nor did they see the grapevine straighten andbecome taut just as they drifted upon it; but they felt the raftstrike and hold on some submerged object. It creaked and groaned andthe foamy water surged, gurgling, between the logs.

  Jim's mare snorted with terror, and rearing high, pulled her halterloose and plunged into the river. But Jim still held her, at risk ofbeing drawn overboard.

  "Let go! She'll drag you in!" yelled Joe, grasping him with his freehand. Lance trembled violently and strained at the rope, which hismaster held with a strong grip.

  CRACK!

  The stinging report of a rifle rang out above the splashing of thewater.

  Without a cry, Bill's grasp on the oar loosened; he fell over itlimply, his head striking the almost submerged log. A dark-red fluidcolored the water; then his body slipped over the oar and into theriver, where it sank.

  "My God! Shot!" cried Jim, in horrified tones.

  He saw a puff of white smoke rising above the willows. Then thebranches parted, revealing the dark forms of several Indianwarriors. From the rifle in the foremost savage's hand a slight veilof smoke rose. With the leap of a panther the redskin sprang fromthe strip of sand to the raft.

  "Hold, Jim! Drop that ax! We're caught!" cried Joe.

  "It's that Indian from the fort!" gasped Jim.

  The stalwart warrior was indeed Silvertip. But how changed! Strippedof the blanket he had worn at the settlement, now standing naked butfor his buckskin breech-cloth, with his perfectly proportioned formdisclosed in all its sinewy beauty, and on his swarthy, evil face anexpression of savage scorn, he surely looked a warrior and a chief.

  He drew his tomahawk and flashed a dark glance at Joe. For a momenthe steadily regarded the young man; but if he expected to see fearin the latter's face he was mistaken, for the look was returnedcoolly.

  "Paleface steal shirt," he said in his deep voice. "Fool palefaceplay--Silvertip no forget."