5hod 5jismc i r iii#!. *, E:d\x/ai\dS.Eii^5 1 . h 4 ,V' t^ i " \' * b \ JC^,*'' • . ^ ( * ' ; ' 1 i «■ ">-^^^^ -' ' \* 1 ■V- , , t > «. ,, t J \ I /' *i^ > •» . .'^> '. t M .S ''f ^ ^ ^k if * ? -i:^ / 1 L .'i :C^^ , > , ^ ;^" f . , 4\ i . •Cm ' , * ;,,, .^••^.^l^^^^^.'-^x- ^-^1 Boose asd Kestos Series, Ao. l SHOD AVITH SILENCE A TALE OF THE FROXTIEK BY EDWARD S. ELLIS ▲UTHOB OK "the LOO CABIN SEKIES," " DEEKFOOT 8£KI£S,' " W"VOM1NO SEMIS," ETC, PIIILADELPmA IIENRV T. (OATES .t CO. Copyright, 1896, 3Y HENKY T. COATES & CO. CO-XTKNTS. AMfT CHArrrR I. Is THE KeNTICKY FoBf>T, II. Bctwekn Two Fires, III. The Youxo Pioneer, IV. The Flatbo.vt, V. A D.UIIKO USDEBT.\KINC., VI. Lv THE Shadow?, VII. -V Friendly Call, . VIII. A Disappearance, . IX. .\ JoYFVL Discovery, X. Fellow Pa.ssenger.s XI. The SiirrKRKiiiK, XII. Lively Wurk, XIII. The Prisoner of State, XIV. The Torch, XV. The White Cro^s, . XVI. The C'REEPiNti Shadow, . XVII. "Delays are Danoekous," XVIII. In the Sweet Lono Ago, XIX. The Signal, . PAGE 5 13 20 37 50 63 72 S2 93 102 115 120 139 152 IGTj 178 190 203 210 wiG'^ZVAli IV CONTENTS. CHAPTER XX. Consultation and CouNSEii, XXI. A Fair Warning, XXII. An Alarming Discovery, XXIII. What's to be Done? . XXIV. A Strange Proposal, , XXV. By the Splintered Oak, XXVI. A Slip Somewhere, XXVII. Besieged and Besiegers, XXVIII. Jethro Juggens on Guakd, XXIX. On the Fallen Tree, XXX. Conclusion, . PAGE 228 240 252 264 276 289 301 313 326 339 353 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER I. IX THE KKNTUCKY FOREST. SIMON KENTON, the famous ranger, was threading his way through the depths of the Kentucky wilderness one sum- mer day more than a hundred years ago. Simon Kenton, in the history of the west, is ranked second to the great pioneer, Daniel Boone, but the younger scout was the supe- ri(jr of the more celebrated one in several re- spects. The stride of Kenton wa.s long and regular, and the most astonishing fact about his pace was that it seemed absolutely without noise. Thus far all was well, and he resumed his rapid, noiseless tramp in the direction of the Ohio river, which was his destination. (5) 6 SHOD WITH SILENCE. It was midsummer, and the sun shone with fervor in the clearings and on tlie gleaming river, but a delicious coolness brooded in the soft gloom of the forest, where not a ray of the fierce orb penetrated. He took the utmost care to avoid leaving the slightest impression on the damp earth im- mediately surrounding the spring, for he did not need to be told that he was not the only person who knew of the cool fountain in the wilderness. Many a dusky inhabitant of the woods had knelt as he had done, and touched his coppery lips to the crystal element. Less than one hundred feet from the spring Kenton stopped as abruptly as if he had seen a coiled rattlesnake at his feet in front. But it was nothing that the eye noted ; his ear told him that man or animal was near at hand. The head of the hunter darted several times to the right and left in a quick, nervous way, and then became stationary. He had located the point whence came the almost inaudible rustle ; it was directly in advance, and five seconds later he knew it was drawing near. " The varmints are coming this way," re- IN Till; KKNTUCKY FUIillST. 7 fleeted the ranger; "thev know what it is to be tliirsty like us Christian folks." The tliought was hardly formed when he dodi;ed hehind the trunk of the nearest tree, standing rigid and erect, all his faculties con- centrated in listening. Another moment told him the rod man, as he knew it must be, was approaching, not directly from the front, but by a diagniial course. He was coming to the spring, but from the left of where the ranger was on watch. The latter had fixed the precise point, and peered carefully from behind the shelter- ing trunk. All at once there was a flickering of shadows in the cool gloom. Then an Indian warrior assumed form. He wius walking with the same stride the white man used, and was heading for the spring. Like the ranger, too, he carried his rifle in a trailing position, though it is hardly to be supposed he suspected any enemy was near. The single Indian would have been of slight account to a scout like iSimon Kenton, but tha 8 SHOD WITH SILENCE, latter knew, even before his eyes told liim the fact, the other was not alone. At the moment he came ftiirly into view, the head and shoulders of a second Indian ap- peared directly behind him, and then came a third, who brought up the rear of the proces- sion, as may be said. ^' Three of 'em," thought the scout, "and they're all Shawanoes ; they're ugly varmints, and if they want to pass without saying ' Howdy ?' I don't know as Simon Kenton is going to get mad and tear his hair." The Indians followed the fashion common among their people of walking directly in a line, so that their trail appeared as if made by a single warrior. While there was no call to use this precau- tion in the present instance, yet it was charac- teristic of the red men that they did so. They, like the scout, moved so noiselessly that it may be said they were " shod with silence." It was easy to follow their movements with- out risk, because the Shawanoes showed no suspicion of the presence of an enemy in the neighborhood. IN THE KKNTUCKY FOREST. Kenton peeped around the edge of the bark, cxposinu: only one eye and the front of his cap, and ready to dodge back the instant it became necessary. He wouhl not have dared to do this had the red men known a white man was within a quarter of a mile from them. The view of the Shawanoes could not have been better. They were dressed nuuli the same as Kenton, but without the fringed skirt he wore. The upper part of their bodies was almost bare, for, he it remembered, it was the summer season, when many of their people wear no apparel at all above their waists. The Ions:, coarse, black hair dangled about their shoul- ders, and was parted in the middle. A num- ber of stained eagle feathers protruded from the crown, and the faces, ugly enough by nature, were rendered tenfold more so by the splashes of red, black and white paint which covered forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. A suppressed exclamation escaped Kenton. He had recognized the rear Indian as Wa-ou- 10 SHOD WITH SILENCE. moil, or The Panther, one of the fiercest and most cruel chiefs of the Shawanoes. The outrages committed by this savage caused his name to be dreaded alono; the Ohio and Kentucky frontier above that of all others. Kenton had often expressed the wish that some time he might meet The Panther alone in the depth of the forest where the chances were equal, and there was no possibility of any one interfering with them. " From that time forrad," said he to his friend Boone, " Wa-on-mon, being the same is The Panther, or a young gentleman of the name of Kenton will retire from the bus'ness of loafing in the woods, and I've a sort of feel- ing that it won't be myself that will do the retiring bus'ness, but I can't, howsumever, be sartin." Had the terrible Shawanoe been alone, the account would have been settled then and there in true frontier fashion, but there could be no doubt of the courage and skill of The Panther's companions. Brave as was Simon Kenton, he had too IN Tin: KKNTICK.Y FOREST. 11 inuili ilisnvtioii to cnfi^age in a conflict when there was no oarlhly })rus!pcct of success. Meanwhile, tlie three Intlians strode for- ward until they reached the spring whicli the rani;er had left only a few minutes before. There, without hesitation, they took turns in lying on their faces ami (jualling from the cool fluid until their thirst was satisfied. All the white man's interest now centred in the question whether those vagrants of the woods would detect his faint footprints. Skilfully a< Kenton had liidden his trail, none knew better than he that if the Shaw- anoes made search they must disctjver it. And what then ? Having drank wliat they wished, the group stood near each other for a minute or two, ex- changing words in their guttural fashion, while their black eyes wandered around the woods. Sometimes their hideous faces were turned toward the vigilant white man, then their pro- files showed, and again nothing but the black, dangling hair with the stained feathers pro- jecting therefrom. 12 SHOD WITH SILENCE. All at once, The Panther looked at the ground as though something had caught his attention. His companions continued glancing here and there, but the chief did not speak or no- tice what they said. Suddenly, he partly stooped and uttered an exclamation, plainly heard by Kenton, who muttered : " The varmint has diskivered my trail, sure enough ! Now the trouble begins !" He spoke the truth. BETWEEN TWO FIRE3. 18 CHAPTER II. BETWEEN TWO FIRES. THE three Shawauoes, alter scrutinizing the ground near the spring, straightened up at the same moment, so simultaneously indeed, that the head of one of them humped against that of The Panther. The latter uttered an angry exclamation, hut the Hurry passed the next moment, for all were interested in the startling discovery just made. They knew a stranger had been at the spring a brief while before, but since he wore moccasins like themselves, they could not know, of a certainty, whether he was a white or red man. The Panther pointed to the almost invisible footprints left by the visitor wht-n he moved towards the river, which was not distant. The eyea of tiie party were able to follow 14 SHOD WITH SILENCE. the trail for a rod or two, and to note its course, and doing so their vision naturally passed beyond and took note of the trees in advance. Meanwhile, Kenton was peering around the edge of the tree. He had removed his cap, which he held in one hand, while the deadly rifle was grasj)ed in the other ready for instant use. " This ain't the most comfortable spot I've stood in," he reflected, " though I've knowed powerful worse." The time came very quickly when it would not do to continue his scrutiny. Slight as was the exposure of his face, it was certain to at- tract attention whenever the gaze of the red men should rest upon the tree itself. The scout, therefore, drew back, replaced his cap, grasped his gun more firmly, and waited. The eye was useless for the moment. EA'^erything depended on hearing, as it had on more than one occasion in his experi- ence. He was counting upon detecting the noise BETWKnX TWO FIRES. 15 of their approach in case they advanced. There secnu'd no reason why tliey slionld bestow special attention upon tlie trunk he- liind which lie had taken shelter, for it was similar to others in the iniinediate neighhor- hood, and there was nothing in the appear- ance of the trail to reveal his exact hiding place, for human eye could not trace the foot- prints from the spring to the tree, so long as no change was made in the position of the spectators. But the most natural action of the Shawa- noes was to follow the trail. The fact that but a single person had preceded them at the spring pointed to his being a white man, and therefore an enemy, for the American race is not addicted to solitary wandering. Nothing, therefore, appeared more likely than that the Indians would approach the spy and by, they wuuUl resume their oM tactics of separating, and, despite his watch- fulness and skill, would soon place him at their mercy. There was but one thing to do — that was to continue his flight, but Kenton was loth to abandon the field without another shot at his enemies. Instead, therefore, of wheeling about and taking to his heels, he walked backward, with his face toward his foes, and grasping the two guns, which, being cumbersome, made an awkward burden for him. Before either of the tShawanoes could fire, he must show a portion of his own body to the extent of a jKirt of his head and shoulder. Kenton was on the alert for that opening, and ready to take instant advantage of it. In that sweeping glance lie cast to the rear, at the moment the first shot was discharged at him, Kenton identified The Panther. He was on the left, and was the one whom 24: SHOD AVITH SILENCE. the ranger determined to bring down, if it was within the range of possibility. Whether the chief would be the first to load and sight his gun w^ould soon be seen. That he and his companion were ramming down the charges was certain, and very soon they would be ready for serious business. Kenton's eagerness to rid the frontier of this scourge led him to run more risk than he would have done under other circum- stances. He continued slowly retreating, on the alert for the first opening, which was not long in coming. AVith a thrill of pleasure he noted that The Panther beat his companion in recharging his rifle. Kenton saw the gleaming eye rang- ing along the sights and the crooked elbow and a part of the shoulder. Dropping his own weapon, so as to leave his hands unencumbered, he aimed the strange weapon with lightning-like sudden- ness. He knew his eye w^as true, and now everything depended on who fired first. The white man was a moment ahead of the BETWEIIN TWO IIKCS. -O other ill pressing the tiig^^cr, but ahis ! there was no report. When the former owner of the ritle plunged to the ground he must have injured it in some way, for it was useless. With a furious exclamation. Kenton flung it from him, snatched up his own, and duck- ing his head, leaped behind shelter betbre either of the others couhl fire. At this juncture, when it seemed as if matters could be no worse, the ranger made the terrifying discovery that in addition to the two Indians in front, a third person had come from somewhere, and had got directly behind him. It was impossible for the scout to escape one without placing himself at the mercy of the other. 26 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER III. THE YOUNG PIONEEK. WHAT more frightful position can be imagined than that of a man with an unloaded gun in his hands and with two fierce Indians in front, each with a fully charged weapon, eager to fire upon him, followed by the appearance of a third war- rior directly behind him, also equally ardent to take part in the final scene? Such was the fearful dilemma in which Simon Kenton was sure he was caught, and, numerous as had been the thrilling encoun- ters in which he had participated, there was never anything quite as bad as that. But, and not for the first time in his life, the great scout and ranger made a mistake. He heard the sound only a short distance to the rear which terrified him, but he was not Tin: YOUNG PIONEER. L' / the man to surreiuler or despair, no matti-r how hopeless the ease might seem. Kneeling on the grounil, so as partially to screen his hodv, he be2:an liurriedlv reloading: his ritle, determined to go down, if go he mnst, with eolors ilying. "Hello, Kenton, what's up?" It wtis not an Indian that asked the ques- tion, hut one of his own race. Tlie amazed ranger paused, with the ramrod projecting from the barrel of his gun, ready to jiress the leaden bullet in place, and looked behind him. No more welcome sight can be conceived than that which met his gaze. A vounsr man, hardly twenty years of age, but fully grown, and as fine a specimen of the back- woods athlete as himself, stood in full view not twenty yards away. He had heard the shots a few minutes before, and hurried forwanl t(^ learn the cause. The action of the ranger proved that something stirring was going on, but seeing nothing of the Shawanoes, the youth did not fully comprehend matters, hence his query. 28 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " Quick ! Ashbriclge ! Get behind a tree. The varmints are out there !" Without further questioning the young man instantly obej^ed and stood at bay. Kenton now rose to his feet, and, keeping the tree between him and the warriors, hastily finished reloading his rifle. The youth, whom he had addressed as Ash- bridge, being somewhat to the rear, and thus further from the Shawanoes, was prevented from seeing where they stood. But for that, doubtless, he would have re- ceived one of the shots that were waiting and on the point of being fired at Kenton. But if Ashbridge failed to grasp the whole situation, The Panther and his companion were quick to note the changed conditions. Instead of holding their places, and engag- ing in a contest where the chances were equal, they fled through the woods with the s^Dced of the wind. They were gone before even so matchless a marksman as Simon Kenton could give them a parting shot. The ranger held his ground until certain no enemies were near, when he turned about THE YOUNG PIOKEER. 29 and strode toward the young man, wlio stepped from behind the tree and extended his hand. " I'm powerful ghid to see you," was the greeting of the elder, " and the wust thing I ever done you was to think you were one of the varmints instead of a white man." " No harm was done," was the cheery reply of the youth ; " did this little affair amount to anything?" Kenton, in a few words, made known what has already been told the reader. The lite- less figure a short distance away told its own impressive story, and the two, though familiar with scenes of violence on the frontier, gladly moved in the direction of the Ohio. **IIow comes it, George," added Kenton, addressing his companion by his given name, " that yuu are in these parts ? I didn't expect to set eyes on you afore night." "Well. VdU understand how it is. Father and I came down thr river last spring in tlu^ Ihiiboat, landed several miles below, put up our cabin, cleared off some land, and got things ready for the folks. He left a couple 30 SHOD WITH SILENCE. of weeks ago for our old home, to bring down mother and Mabel. I stayed behind to look after the cabin, but it was mighty lonesome. I figured out that it was about time for the flatboat to be in sight, and started up the river to meet it. There are no animals at home to look after, and I don't believe any one will run away with the house while I'm gone." '' Not likely ; but if any of the varmints happen that way they'll be sure to burn it down." " They would do that if I was there." " Not if you made as good use of your rifle as you know how. I was on the way to call on you, meanin' to stay a day or two." " No one could have been as welcome, un- less it was father and mother and sister. Shall we go back there now ?" "You're looking for the flatboat?" " Yes ; as I calculate, it must be due, un- less," added the youth, with a distressed ex- pression, " something has happened." " Let us hope not, though there's no saying what may come in these parts ; I've never THE YOUNG PIONEEK. 31 knowed the redskins to l>e uglier ; one of them two that j^lipped away was tliat eonfoundeil Wa-on-nion. or The Panther. Me and him have got to have it out one of these times ; he knows it as well as me, and I was hoping we'd ■wind up the business to-day." While the two conversed, they walked in the direction of the river, which now was not far oir. The youth, as well as the elder, did not forget their vigilance, and proceeded with the utmost stealth. There was some fear that The Panther and his com})anion might attempt to steal ujjon tliem unawares, hut had they tried it they would have fared ill. Such a proceeding as catching the white men oif their guard ranked among the im- possibilities. " Have you and your father had any trouble with the varmints?" asked Kenton. " Nothing serious," replied young Ash- bridge ; "we didn't see a sign of the Indians until most of the land wa.s cleared and the cabin finished. A couple of Wyandots (I think they were) came out of the woods one 32 SHOD WITH SILENCE. day, and had a talk with us. One of them spoke English quite well ; we cooked some venison, and they ate with us." " That's right enough, only I want to warn you not to be fooled into thinkin' that it has made 'em friends. Did you ever see anything more of em ?" The face of young Ashbridge assumed an anxious exj)ression as he answered : " I'm not sure about that, Kenton." "How's that?" " About a month afterward, as it was grow- ing dark, two Indians i^addled past. They kept so near the other shore that we couldn't see clearly, but when they were opposite they fired at us. One of the bullets wounded father's hand. He said he believed they were the ones that we had fed, but I was sure he was mistaken." " The chances are 10 to 1 your father war right and you war wrong," was the comment of Kenton. " And father has gone back to our old home to bring mother and my little sister Mabel," repeated young Ashbridge, with such an ex- THE YOUNT. PIONEER. 83 prcs^ion of anguish on his face that Konton';^ heart was toiiciic'd. " Here's hopiiii:; it'll eouie out right, luit 1 bear that Pres. Washington is going to send soldiers in these parts to bring the varmints to tarnis. That will be a good thing, pro- vided they don't get sarved like Col. Craw- ford and the rest of 'em that don't know any more about fightin' varmints than I do about ])laying president of the country. Hello, here we are !" For some minutes the light had been in- creasing in front of them, as though they were approaching an opening in the forest. Instead of that, however, they came out on the shore of the beautiful Ohio river, lined at that time with vast forests, and containing only here and there the gi'rms of the j>opu- lous cities and towns which now mark the flourishing west. As the couple halted on the bank of the stream, standing within a cou[)le of paces of the water, the scene rc.seMd)led that which would have presented itself had they made their visit hundreds of years before, when 34 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Columbus first set foot on the shores of the new world. Not a living person beside themselves was within sight, nor did they catch the first view of a dwelling of a human being. A mile below the river wound through the luxuriant forest, as though it were swal- lowed up by it, while a sweeping curve a shorter distance above shut off all view in that direction. The vast gloomy wilderness stretched to the horizon on every hand, coming down to the margin of the water, and overhanging and shading the clear current that flowed beneath. Looking directly across and inland, a faint shadowy line showed against the blue sky. It might have been caused by the smoke from a pioneer's cabin, but more likely as- cended from the campfire of some of the red men wandering through the forest and look- ing with savage hatred upon the efforts of the palefaces to wrest their hunting grounds from them. Kenton's familiarity with the region told THE YOUXC. PIONEER. 85 him that no white man liad s^ettled near that spot, and unless some of his own friends had hahed tliere and kindk'd the lire in deiiauee of the warriors, it belonged to the latter. "It could hardly be that the flatboat drifted i»ast while I was away from the river?" was the inquiring remark of George Ashbridge. '* It might have happened, but it isn't likely," was the reply of Kenton ; " for as I cae'late, you haven't been out of sight of the river for more'n two hours." " Hardly that." "The fact of it is I know the boat hasn't gone past." " How can you be certain of that ?" "'Cause it's in sight now, just coming round the bend." The startled youth wheeled and glanced upstream. There, sure enough, was a cum- bersome flatboat, with the long swee]>ing oar projecting from the front, and a second from the rear, just coming into sight ui)strcam. " That must be father and mother !" ex- 36 SHOD WITH SILENCE. claimed the son, with suppressed joy ; " how thankful I am that all has gone well." Kenton made no reply to this joyous re- mark. Shading his eyes with one hand, he stepped so near the water that a moccasin was moistened, and studied with the utmost keen- ness the approaching craft. He held this position for fully ten minutes without stirring or speaking. Then he lowered his hand, straightened up, and sighed. ''What's the matter?" asked the scared youth at his side. " Younker, make up your mind to bear it like a man." ''Bear what?" gasped George Ashbridge. " You spoke of something happening to the flatboat. Wal, that thing has happened !" THE FLATBOAT. 37 CITAPTKR IV. THE ILATBOAT, ri^IIE flatboats in use on the Ohio and X other streams a century anil more ago were of the simplest construction conceivable. Tluv were scows, with flat bottoms, and a ■width a tliird or one-half their length. The planking at the sides was two or three feet in height, and, of course, bullet- proof. One end was sometimes boarded over, so as to give shelter to the occu])ants at night or when the weather was b;id. In the other portion were piled the goods of the emigrants, a part being set apart for the horses anil cattle belonging to the pioneer. The flatboat could go down but not up stream, since the only motive power was the current. A long sweeping oar swung on a pivot at 38 SHOD WITH SILENCE. the front, and another at the stern. By means of these the boat could be warped in- shore or away from it, or its position shifted while floating down the river, at the wish of the occu|)ants. Had young George Ashbridge known less of the wonderful woodcraft of Simon Kenton, or had not his deepest affections been con- cerned, he might have doubted the declara- tion of the ranger that " something had hap- pened " to the flatboat. That " something " meant the worst, for it signified an attack and massacre, or the cap- tivity of the people on board. In truth, the scout saw more in the pres- ence of The Panther than did his compan- ion. There had been well-founded rumors, as he declared, for several weeks that the lead- ing tribes in the southwest were making ready to go on the war-path. He believed The Panther's business in that section, when his home was a long distance to the south, meant mischief. Kenton was afraid the Indians were prowl- ing along the Ohio, and the flatboat upon THE FLATBOAT. 39 Tfliich Mr. Ashl)ri(lge aiul his family were due hail been suecessfully assailed. When, therefore, lie caught sight of the cumbersome craft slowly swinging around the bend upstream, he began minutely study- inf' it, more than half convinced that it had been overwhelmed by disaster. h will be remembered that Kenton and the youth stood close to the stream, so as to be in plain sight of any one on the other side or on the river. Consequently, if the occupants were alert, as they must be, they would quickly discover the figures of the two hunters on the Ken- tucky shore. Let this be remembered in following the incidents we have set out to de- scribe. For two or three minutes after this scrutiny began, Kenton detected no sign of life on board the craft. This signified nothing, for the people could very well keep out of sight without exj)Osing themselves. (Jften, when maintaining the closest watch of the shores, the enemies could catch no glimpse of any one on the boat. 40 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Then, the long, sweeping paddle, thrust for- ward like an index finger, was dipped in the water and swayed slowly to the left. The sparkle of the disturbed water was plainly seen by Kenton, who even fancied that he observed the head of the man near the middle of the craft as he walked from one side to the other. If so, the distance was too great to recognize the person at the oar. The position of the rear sweep prevented Kenton learning whether that was also in motion, but the vigor showed in the first case convinced him that the intention of those on board was to work the boat toward the Ken- tucky side, swinging it to land near the spot where the spectators were standing. The oar was swayed three times, and then it suddenly ceased. The presence of Ash- bridge and Kenton had evidently been noted on the flatboat, and the first intention was abandoned. They were studying the couple. The Indians along the frontier resorted to many devices to bring the settlers within reach. THE FLATBOAT. 41 They compelU'd captive white men to call out iVom the woods to beg for help, represent- ing that thev had been wounded and W(»uld die unless they received assistance. Sometimes, these pretended sufierers played their part with great willingness, for there were whites who, forswearing their own race, lived among the savages and rivaled them in deeds of atrocity. The most notorious of these was Simon (iirty, hut more of him hereafter. At the end of the ten minutes named, the craft had drifteut look, Kenton I" added Ashbridge, ex- citedly, " there's a white man I" 44 SHOD WITH SILENCE. While they were talking, Kenton's eyes were upon his friend, who never removed his gaze from the craft. The elder now glanced at it and exclaimed : " Wal, I'll be hanged ! That's qu'ar !" The stern of the craft was rooted over, as has already been described. The sweep pro- jected beyond this roof almost to the middle of the boat, where the one who worked it walked back and forth, and, when thus en- gaged, only the upper part of his body was visible. AVhile Ashbridge was surveying the craft, the figure of a white man in Indian costume rose to view, as if coming up the steps of a cellar. Leaning with one arm on the sweep, he stared at the couple on shore. A thrill stirred George Ashbridge at the hope that this might be his father, but a second glance showed the man to be a stranger. It was the intention of the elder Ash- bridge to bring several neighbors and their families with him, but if he had done so all of them would have been recognized by the youth. THE FLATBOAT. 45 "AMuit is the moaning of tliat?" asked the kitttr, in a low voice ; " tliere is one Indian and one white man on board." " They ain't the only ones." *' Is the white man a prisoner?" " He don't act that way ; you'd think he's boss, from liis style." " What of that Indian that is watching us so closely ?" " He's another boss ; I don't like his looks ; bv jrracious, I know him !" added Kenton, lowering his voice, but showing more agitation than was natural to him. "Who is he?" " Lame Bear." " And who is Lame Bear?" " A Wyandot ; one of the worst varmints in the world. Do you remember hearing about the McCutcheon family, as live I " "Will, the rest know it, and some of 'em, like The Pantlier and Lame Uear, have heen gunning a long time for your topknot; I give you notice for your own sake, Sime, for I don't believe I can do you any good next time." " I'm obliged ; good-by, and good luck to you. I needn't tell you to be as keerful as myself, for a good many of our boys are gun- ning for you." " I know it," replied Girty, with an oath ; " and if they catch me, I won't whine, but they haven't got me yet. Good-by, and the same to you." Kenton turned about, and ni(;iioned to Asli- bridge to precede him in passing among the shadow of the trees. The scout could never forget his caution. He feared no shot from the llatboat, so hjiig as Girty remained on board, but he could not feel certain of any such immunity for his companion. If Aslibridge walked at the lear, the temptation lor some one to .shoot liim was likelv to become irresistil>le. iSo Kenton shielded him with iiis own botly. 68 SHOD WITH SILENCE. A half-dozen steps and the friends were beyond sight of the keenest vision on the craft. They halted and looked in each other's faces. " You heard what Girty said ?" was the inquiring remark of Kenton. " Y«s, and don't believe a word of it." " Nor do I. And yet he might have said something true, sort of accidental like." *' I feel quite assured of one thing," re- marked the sorrowing Ashbridge. " None of my folks are on the flatboat ; but where are they ?" " Younker, the cabin that you left this morning when you set out to meet your people is about six miles below. Did you walk along the shore to this place ?" ** Of course not ! I came in our canoe." " Where is that canoe ?" " Not one hundred yards from where we are standing." " Did you draw it up the bank so no one could see it afore he stubbed his toe aginst it?" " I could not forget to take that precaution." A DAniNC. UNDERTAKING. 69 "i^liow me tilt' way to tlmt Bamo oraft."' xVshbridge touk tlu' Kail through the bushes and undergrowth, wliich were more plentiful here than further inhnui, and quiekly reaeheil a sj>ot ^Yhere a small hirehen strueture, similar to those in common use amonjr the Indians in that section, was drawn up the hank, and rested where it was invisible to any one passing up or down the stream. It was large enough to carry three or four persons. The ])r<>w and stern curved upward and over, with an apjiroaeh to the graceful arching of a swan's neck, and grotescpie fig- ures were painted on the smooth surface of the hark. In fact, the elder Ashbridge had bartered for the canoe with a party of JShawanoes who seemed to be friendly, so that the boat was an Indian one in every respect, and showed a rude ornamentation that would have been absent had the craft been put together by while men. It contained a single tishen })aildle which, in the hands of a person skilled in its usi', would .send the frail craft over the river with great swiftness. 60 SHOD WITH SILENCE. No white man or warrior could manipulate a canoe with greater cleverness than Simon Kenton, who stood for a moment admiringly contemplating the structure. " She's a beauty !" he exclaimed ; " as is all them things that the Injins put together when they a'int in a hurry." " Father bought it of a party at the block- house. What do you intend to do, now that it is at your disposal ?" *' I'm going to follow the flatboat and learn the truth." " You are not satisfied with what Girty said ?" " Not by a long shot ; there's a good deal about this business that I don't understand, but I shall understand afore to-morrow at sun-up," The scout moved to the edge of the river, parted the undergrowth and peered out. He saw the flatboat drifting down stream, some- what nearer the Kentucky shore than the other bank. The renegade was still standing near the middle, leaning on the sweep and looking backward, with his keen eyes fixed A DAUINU I'SDr.RTAKlNii (51 on tlio sj)ot where Konioii and Aslil>ri;iv Ciirty a visit." "But, is it s:it*(\ Kt'iitoii ? You know he warned you lie eould not help you if you got into trouhle with the Indians ajjain." " T won't forgit what he said," was the reply. " I calc'late that Sime Kenton is ahlo to take eare of liimself." " But if we paddle out to the boat we are liable to be seen, and — " "I ain't going to paddle; I'm going to leave my gun with you and swim to hii)i." Ashbridge would have tried to dissuade his eompanion, but he knew it wa.s useless. Nor could he presume to give him advice. He, therefore, remained silent. Without another word the ranger silently thrust one leg over tlie gunwale, sank into the water until only the t(>[) of his head was visil>le, and set out on his daring under- takiuif. 72 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER VII. A FRIENDLY CALL. IF George Aslibridge believed lie would be left with nothing to do but to w^ait for the next hour or two, he was mistaken. The youth was sitting silent and motionless in his canoe, with his eyes roving here and there over the dimly lit surface of the river, and with his ears on the alert, when he noted a ripple of the water just above him, which he knew was made by some person or animal. If the former, it must be an enemy ; if the latter, it was of small moment. Kenton had not given him a word of in- struction before leaving. He must have be- lieved it unnecessary. The youth ought to know enough to do the right thing whatever contingency arose. Hardly had the suspicious sound fallen on his ear when an Indian canoe, similar to the A FRIENDLY CALL. 73 one in which he was Pcatcil, glided slowly down the river, just on the outer rim of vegetation, and within six feet of the prow of the boat. Within the other craft were seated three warriors, the middle of whom was using a paddle, while his companions sat as motion- less as so many wooden images. The natural conclusion of Ashbridge was that these were the Indians for whom Girty was waiting. It had Ix^en the purpose of Kenton to watch at a point above where the party would pad- dle out to the larger craft, but, unconsciously, he had gone below. Had the bucks been on the watch, assuredly they would have dis- covered the two whites, but, as it was, that was improbable. As if no trial of the youth's nerves was to be withheld, the Indian boat came to a halt directly opposite him. SomethiniT vajrue and shadowv j]rlided into sight from the gloom of tlie shore below him, and moved toward the larger craft. The watcher did not need to see clearly 74 SHOD WITH SILENCE. to identify it as the canoe and its occupants. Doubtless they were the people for whom the renegade was waiting and watching. The canoe moved with moderate, regular pace until at the side of the craft at anchor, when it was absorbed in the gloom which en- closed that. The stillness was so profound that Ash- bridge plainly heard the splash of water and slight bump of the smaller against the larger boat. He caught, too, an expression made by one of the Indians, after which profound stillness, as before, held reign. Meanwhile, Simon Kenton precipitated him- self into an interesting condition of affairs. Following out his resolve to penetrate the mystery of the motionless flatboat and its occupant or occupants, he swam out into the river until at a point directly above the craft. He did this without decreasing the dis- tance between him and it. Then he went some way beyond, believing that Girty, if still on board, would keep closer watch of the A FRIKNOLY CALL. 75 southern than of the northern sliore, inas- much as the former was the one from which be expected to receive visitors. It was unsafe, liowever, to count upon an a]iproacli to the l)oat without detection un- less it coiiM be managed witli extraordinary skill. Ihit Kenton regarded the present occasion as warranting the taking of chances. lie meant to board the tlatboat or approach it nigh enough to discover the truth. His plan of procedure was to swim as close as he dared or to the verge of discovery, as it may be called, and then, dropping below the surface, come up so close to the stern that he was not likely to be noticed unless he awoke suspicion by some noise. Precisely where lay the " danger line " was the delicate question to settle. Every foot of api>roach to the boat was vast advantage to the scout, lor it lessened the (lilliculty of his task, but if he went too close and was detected, his whole scheme would be over- turned. He was swimming slowly, and with the 76 SHOD WITH SILENCE. utmost caution, when his eyes and his sense of smell disclosed two facts. He saw the figure of Simon Girty, not in the former position, but seated on the roof of the cabin, as it may be called, close to the stern, and with one arm bent over the sweep where the latter swung on a pivot. That he was smoking was proven not only by the tiny, glowing speck which occasionally appeared when he removed the pipe from his mouth, but by the pungent odor of tobacco that tainted the air. Had the scout felt certain that his former friend was the only one on the boat, he would have pronounced his name and swam directly to him ; but he believed several Indians were with him, and it was this fact which caused all the trouble. If the renegade observed him he would not hesitate to fire. If Kenton pronounced his own name, the hostiles were sure to hear him, and it would instantly become a struggle for life, with no possibility of his gaining the first advantage. His problem, therefore, was to approach so A FIJIKNDLY CAM. 77 near Girty -svitliout dotootioii that lie could make liiiiiselt' known wiiliuut discovery by any one else on board. Inch by inch the ranger drifted down stream, his gaze fixed on the head and shoulders of the man lolling on the deck of the cabin and smoking his pipe. The fact that now and then the scout saw the glowing ember within the bowl showed that Girty's face was toward him. Had it been turned the other way hardly any diflli- cultv would have confronted the ranirer. As it was, he meditated keeping beyond the liability of detection, and swimming to the boat from the other direction, but he feared that .some of the hostiles were on jruard there. It would not do to be seen by them ; he must make his first advance to the renegade himself. Carefully measuring the distance with his eye, the ranger sank below the surface, and swam straight for the stern of the flatboat. He did his work .so unerringly, that when his cap parted the water and he came uj*, his nose gently touched the side of the craft ; he had hit it to the iuch ! 78 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " Sh ! helloa, Girty !" The renegade, sitting in reverie and slowly puffing his pipe, was so startled by hearing his name pronounced in a guarded voice, that he sprang up as though a needle point had been thrust in him. " Who's that?" he asked in a hoarse under- tone, staring around in the gloom, uncertain of the point whence the hail came. " It's me, Kenton ; don't make any noise !" At the same moment, grasping the gunwale with both hands, the ranger drew his head and shoulders into view of the frightened Girty. The latter stared down at his old acquaintance, and asked with an execration of amazement : " Where the mischief did you come from ?" " Tell me, honest now, Sime, how many of 'em are on board?" Kenton held himself half over the gunwale, looking up with smiling face at the renegade, and ready to sink back into the water, should it become necessary. " I'm alone," was the unexpected reply. "That suits me; I want to see you," and A FKIKNDLT CALL. 7l> witlioiit further Iiesitation the ranger raised his dripping tbrni over the gunwale and sat down beside his astonished aoquaintanee, who, looking curiously at him, asked : "What's the meaning of this, Kenton? You've done a powerful risky thing." " Why so, if you're the only one on board beside me?" "But thar'U be others in a few minutes; they're late now ; they're likely to come at any time." The renegade turned his head, looked toward the Kentucky shore, and raised his hand warningly. "Sh! I think I heard their paddles." ** No, you didn't," coolly remarked hh visitor, " for if you heard 'em so would I, and I di(hi't." " Mebbe not, l)ut you'll hear 'em purty soon." " Sime," said Kenton, who appreciated the value of the moments, and spoke with deep seriousness, " no matter how other folks may look on you, you'll admit I always used vou equar'. So you did me, when the Shawanoes 80 SHOD WITH SILENCE. meant to make a torchlight of me. I'm not fool enough to put myself into their hands ag'in with the idea that you kin pull me out." "No, for I couldn't," said Girty, smoking hard at his pipe, which had well nigh gone out during the interruption. " I won't ask you, if I ever slip again, but I want you to do me a favor now." '' What is it ?" " Tell me what all this means." " What what means ?" " You, The Panther, and some of his war- riors took this flatboat from a party of settlers that were coming down the Ohio on it." " Of course," was the indifferent response ; " how else would we git it ?" " How many whites were on the boat ?" " Four, an old man, a younger man, his wife and a little girl." The heart of Kenton sank. " Do you know their names — that is, who they were ?" "Never seen 'em before." " Were they the Ashbridges ?" "I don't know, 'cause I never was nigh A FRIENDLY CALL. 81 enough to tliat family to know 'em, except the younker that was with you — Sime, yuii must get out I" whispered the renegade, ex- citedly ; "they're coming now, sure !" Kenton liad caught the dip of the paddle. He knew it was no mistake this time. The Indians were at hand. " All right; good by," he whispered, drop- ping n(j hint of the resolution which he formed while the words were in his mouth, and which he dared not make known to Girty, in whose friendship he reposed great trust, desjnte what he had said a brief while before. 82 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER VIII. A DISAPPEARANCE. SIMON KENTON had caught the faint dip of the paddle, for though the red men could propel a canoe with the same noise- lessness as himself, they evidently made no effort to do so in the present instance, since the necessity did not exist. The ranger had not learned one-half he set out to learn. He meant to. draw from the renegade the meaning of the singular visit of The Panther and his companions to shore, leaving only Girty and Lame Bear in charge of the flatboat for several hours, besides ac- quiring the particulars of the sad fate of the four persons in charge of the flatboat. Doubt- less, he would have gathered all the knowl- edge he sought, had the opportunity been given him, but the sudden a^jpearance of the A DISAPPEARANCE. «3 Sliawanoes sliiit oil* investigation in that di- rection. A\'ith tlie parting words given, the ranger k'l himself over the stern of the boat, at tlie same point where he had climbed upon it, and sank into the water as noiselessly as a feather. Since the warriors were coming from the Kentucky shore, the renegade, who was watching the actions of his former friend, understood why he headed toward the Ohio bank with a vigor which quickly carried him bevond sifijht. Kenton swam with a straight, even stroke until he hail reached a certain point, when he turned his head and looked back. He could see the flatboat, but was unable to discern the figure of Girty at the stern. That was proof that the renegade could no longer detect him. Then Kenton ceased swimming and floated witli the current, which was faster near the middle of tlie river. He did this until below the bow of the flatboat, when he headed for the craft. This course, as will be perceived, interposed 84 SHOD WITH SILENCE. tlie boat between him and Girty at the stern, and enabled Kenton to swim with his head above the surface for the whole distance with- out detection, inasmuch as the closer he ap- jDroached the craft the more completely did it answer as a screen. The task set out for himself would have been of the simplest nature conceivable had the canoe and its occupants been eliminated. It was necessary to keep track of their move- ments, for they must be near at hand. The ranger was puzzled at not seeing any- thing of The Panther and his companions. His own position in the water, below the bow of the flatboat, gave him a view that commanded all the approaches except at the stern, such as he had made, and it was not to be supposed the Indians would draw nigh at that point. " I heard their paddles," he reflected, "but it must have been some carelessness on their part. I guess they were paddling close in shore." The reader will perceive that in this suppo- sition the scout was correct. A DISAPPEARANCE. 85 The discovery was disappointing, for it proved lie might have stayed with Girty longer, and drawn more information from him. But it could not be helped, and it would never do to return to the boat, as for an in- stant he meditated doing;. " I'm in no hurry to go back to that youn- ker," he reflected, " with the news that I'll have to take him — Helloa !" The canoe with its three occupants assumed form in the gloom, approaching the flatboat from the direction of the Kentucky shore. The watcher was certain that one of the three was The Panther. With an almost imperceptible motion Ken- ton worked his way to the craft, striving to use it as a screen against the Shawanoes, as he had done against Girty. The smaller craft favored this purpose by drawing near the stern. By and by, the projecting bow shut it from sight. Then it was that the ranger put forth all his power and skill, and went through the water as though it was his native element. He did not remove his eyes from the cum- 86 SHOD WITH SILENCE. bersome craft, for he was going into great dan- ger, and the situation became more critical with every swing of his powerful arms. He was within a dozen feet of the bow when, to his dismay, the figure of an Indian warrior rose to his feet, as through projected upward from a spring-board. There was less than twenty feet between the man in the water and the one standing at the front of the flatboat. It was an alarming position for the ranger, for if the Indian happened to look in his direction he could not fail to discover him. Fortunately, at the moment he rose so unex- pectedly to sight his side was turned toward the ranger, and he was looking at the shore, from which he and his companions had come a short time before. In the gloom it was impossible to identify the profile of the man, but, with a singular emotion, Kenton decided him to be no other than his old enemy, Wa-on-mon, The Pan- ther. " Wouldn't he like to catch me here?" re- flected the intrepid scout, who, fearful of run- A DISAPPEARANCE. 87 ning further risk, for there could be no doubt that the fellow would scan all the river in his j&eld of vision, again sank under the sur- face, aiming not to come up until too close to be seen. The distance he was obliged to swim was less than in the former instance, but, curiously enough, Kenton made a miscalculation this time. AVhen he supposed he was at the right point, and gently ascended the few inches necessary, he was really under the boat. In- stead of reaching the clear, pure air, he struck the planks of the bottom. But the softness of his cap and the gentle- ness of the impact prevented any suspicious jar, although The Panther was standing al- most directly over his head. Kenton knew the nature of the mistake, and, with the same marvellous coolness which seemed never to desert him, he swam until clear of the craft, coming up immediately under the bow. This being of a sloping form, effectually shut him from sight, unless the Shawanoe 88 SHOD WITH SILENCE. indulged in a whim to lean forward and peer over the shelving planking — a thing he was not likely to do unless his suspicion was aroused. The object of the ranger in this dangerous business was to overhear some of the conver- sation on board. He understood the Shawanoe tongue as well as his own, and his hope was that the infor- mation not obtained from Girty would thus be obtainable. Circumstances, to some extent, favored the scout, who, from his curious hiding place, did not lose a word of what was uttered. The first information was given by The Panther, who told of the encounter in the wood during the afternoon, when one of their number fell before the deadly rifle of the great scout and pioneer, Simon Kenton. The chief pronounced his name, so there could be no doubt of his recognition of his old enemy. His version of the affair, in which he was indorsed by his companion, differed from the truth, in that he made the number of contest- A DISAPPEARANCE. 89 ants twice his own instead of only two, one of whom did not appear until after the encounter was virtually over. Kenton smiled, but cared nothing for that. It was characteristic of the American race to indulge in exaggeration. His own people were not guiltless of the same fault. Then Girty had to explain the cause of the vanishment of his companion on board the flatboat. He stuck partly to the truth, inasmuch as there was nothing to be gained by falsifying further than to represent Kenton as keeping himself so well sheltered on the bank that neither renegade nor Lame Bear could secure a shot at him. This information was already possessed by the listener. He wanted more, and it was not long in coming. Girty sauntered to the side of The Pan- ther, and held a short conversation in the Shawanoe tongue, which may be liberally translated : " We have lost two of our bravest warriors? we have three left. What is the will of the 90 SHOD WITH SILENCE. great chief, The Panther, whose name makes the palefaces tremble?" " It is the will of Wa-on-mon that we wait here until another boat comes down the river ; though there be a hundred palefaces on it, we will take their scalps, as we did those of the other ; then we will burn the boats and hang the scalps of the palefaces to the ridge- poles of our wigwam." There was the interesting program laid out by the generalissimo of the hostile forces. They had captured this craft by some means unknown to Kenton, and meant to use it to secure another. Doubtless they intended to use deception and treachery, the favorite means of their people. The reader will perceive the fearful advan- tage in the hands of The Panther, because of the presence and fullest support of the rene- gade. Hardly one person in a hundred of those who descended the Ohio knew Girty by sight, though the terror of his name had penetrated even to the settlements in western Virginia. A DISAPPEARANCE. 91 "With him standing at the stern, or any- where on the flatboat, the Indians keeping carefully out of sight, he would naturally be taken for a friendly white man, whose story of sickness or misfortune would awaken sym- pathy and draw the unsuspicious pioneers to his side. Thus the flies would walk unsuspectingly into the spider's web. Simon Kenton read the whole scheme, and quietly decided that he would have something to do with the issue of the enterprise. He felt the boat begin to move. Not wish- ing to keep it company, since there was noth- ing more to be learned, he swam gently away from the front, keeping close to the craft as it swept past. He took care to take the side opposite to that where the canoe was moored, since other- wise matters might have been complicated. As it was, when he had the least thought of danger, he came the nighest to a fatal mishap. The scout was hardly swimming. He held himself stationary against the current, while waiting for the flatboat to drift past. 92 SHOD WITH SILENCE. The heavy planking swept slowly along, within a few inches of his face, and he had nearly reached the stern when a projecting splinter or bit of wood pressed so sharply against his neck that he made a sudden plunge to escape it. The splash was heard on board the boat, and The Panther himself leaned over to learn its meaning. Had Kenton kept his head above the surface or risen on the same side of the boat, nothing could have averted discov- ery, but the instant he dropped below he comprehended his error, and swam beneath the craft to the other side before he came up. The scout's peerless woodcraft enabled him to locate the exact spot where he had left the canoe which contained his rifle and his friend. He swam through and beneath the under- growth at the precise spot where he left it. "Helloa, younker, is it all right with you?" he asked, cheerily. A JOYFUL DISCOVEEY. 93 CHAPTER IX. A JOY^FUL DISCOVEEY. WHEN George Ashbridge was left alone in the Indian canoe, under the over- hanging bushes on the Kentucky shore, he did not dream of leaving the spot before the return of Simon Kenton. We have told how motionless and quiet he sat, while the boat containing The Panther and his companions paddled past within a half dozen feet. There was a minute or two when he was certain of an attack from them, and held himself ready to use the two weapons within his grasp, but they had no suspicion of his proximity, and went by without offer- ing the least molestation. To a man in the situation of young Ash- bridge the time moves slowly. It seemed to him that a full hour had elapsed since the ranger's departure. He grew tired of peering out into the 94 SHOD WITH SILENCE. gloom without discovering anything, and more for relief than with the expectation of learning anything, he turned his attention up stream. As he did so his heart gave a quick throb, for a startling sight greeted his vision. A bright point of light showed just above the surface of the river, and apparently near the middle of the current. It glowed steadily for a full minute and then vanished. How long it was visible be- fore, the youth had no means of knowing; but, as may be supposed, he was dumbfounded for the time. He listened and watched for several min- utes. Once he fancied he heard some one speak, then there was a splash as though something had dropped in the water, and then the silence was as profound as that of the tomb. " I am sure they are friends," was his con- clusion, " and I intend to find out what it means. I can paddle there in a few minutes, and will be back before Kenton returns. I shall have news for him." The youth acted on this theory, and, push- A JOYFUL DISCO VEEY. 95 ing the canoe clear of the overhanging vege- tation, began paddling toward the point where the extraordinary light had shown itself. Though he started with high confidence, it must be admitted that with every stroke of the paddle his misgiving increased. What disturbed him as much as anything else was the knowledge that he was taking Kenton's rifle with him. He knew it was the hunter's favorite weapon, and its loss would leave him in a sad plight. That which Ashbridge had set out to do might bring the most disastrous consequences not only to himself, but to Kenton. He propelled the boat slowly and with the utmost caution. It is a question whether the listening Shawanoe or Wyandot, one hundred paces away, would have detected his move- ment through the sense of hearing. By and by it seemed to the wondering Ashbridge that the gloom in front was grad- ually assuming some kind of form. The darkness appeared to be settling upon itself, as may be said, until something definite could be traced by the eye. 96 SHOD WITH SILENCE. With another thrill of amazement, he re- cognized the outlines of a flatboat, such as he had seen drift down stream hours before. A little further advance, and all doubt was removed. It was one of those awkward, bulky craft lying at anchor, just as was the boat to which Kenton had given his atten- tion. Without hesitation, Ashbridge dipped his paddle deep in the water and drove the canoe swiftly toward the motionless flatboat. As the little craft skimmed over the water, some one on the watch called out in a cautious voice : " Who are you ?" George Ashbridge came near dropping the paddle. " Heavens ! Can it be ?" he gasped, and the next moment bounded over the low gun- wale. "Oh, father, is that you?" he exclaimed, rushing into his arms. "Why, my son, what excites you?" asked the parent, at a loss to understand the emo- tion of his sturdy offspring. A JOYFUL DISCOVERY. 97 **An' mother and Mabel, are you all here?" asked the trembling, agitated youth, raising his head from the shoulder of his parent, and looking into the wondering joy- ous faces gathered around him in the gloom. " I thought you had all been killed by the Indians," he added, growing faint again, but quickly rallying. " Oh, how grateful I am, mother and Mabel," he repeated, taking each in turn in his arms. " God be praised ! It seems like a dream, too blissful to be true." " What gives you such fear ?" asked the surprised father, wondering why his brave boy was so stirred. " I am not accustomed to seeing you thus." " I left Simon Kenton a little while ago, and what he and I learned made us believe you had all been slain by the Indians ; but you have friends with you." For the first time, the delighted youth no- ticed that others were on the boat. They had stood a little back dui'ino; the touchino^ meet- ing between him and his relatives. Now they came forward ; first a lusty man, in the prime of life, Mr. Thomas Altman, 7 98 SHOD WITH SILENCE. an old neighbor of the Ashbriclges. He shook the hand of the youth heartily, and expressed his pleasure at meeting him. Then his kind-hearted wife bestowed a mo- therly kiss upon the boy that had always been a favorite of hers from his infancy. Next, a section of the night seemed to ad- vance from the other side of the flatboat. This was Jethro Juggens, a burly negro lad, the servant of the Altmans. He was a year younger than George Ash- bridge, but, heavier, larger, and awkward of movement. He was good natured, with a pro- digious appetite, enormous strength, and an affectionate nature that stopped at no sacrifice for his friends. He was deeply attached to young Ash- bridge, whose playmate he had been before the youth left with his father to build a home in the West. Had there been a little more light on the flatboat, his immense mouth would have been seen stretched to the widest possible grin, as he shuffled forward and took the hand of his old friend. A JOYFUL DISCOVERY. 99 *' Our cabin is only a few miles down the river ; but, father, how is it that you have an- chored for the night ?" " I intended to keep on until we reached the clearing, but they told us at the block- house there was trouble again with the In- dians. They urged us to stay with them till it was over, but I knew you were expecting us, and I have heard so many false alarms, that I decided to go ahead. After talking with Mr. Altman, we concluded it would be best to anchor till morning, so as to arrive at the clearing by daylight ; but, George, you have greeted all of your friends exce23t one." True, there was one member of the little party who, when the others crowded forward to take the hand of young Ashbridge, mod- estly held back, keeping in the rear of the others, and holding her lips so mute that the youth had not seemed to see her. But all the same, he had noticed that coy, silent figure, and keen would have been his disappointment had she not formed one of the happy group. While talking with the others 100 SHOD WITH SILENCE, his eye sought her out, no one noticing in the obscurity the eager, joyous expression that lit up his countenance. " Agnes, I am glad to meet you ; it has been many months since I saw you." Agnes Altman, the sweet, affectionate daughter, and only child, now came forward, and extending her dimpled hand, said, in a low voice : " How do you do, George." She was too timid to respond to the warm pressure of her admirer's grasp, and noting her embarrassment, he quickly released the fair fingers which he would have gladly held indefinitely. Mr. Altman now said, with evident mis- giving : " I don't want to alarm you, friends, but I believe there is mischief on foot." " What makes you think so ?" asked the elder Ashbridge. " Some one is approaching." "It must be Kenton swimming out from shore," said George Ashbridge ; " I forgot all about him in my happiness." A JOYFUL DISCOVERY. 101 "But these j^arties are not swimming," explained the frightened Altman ; " they are coming up the river in a canoe, and are making for this boat; we must be ready to receive them." 102 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER X. FELLOW PASSENGERS. SIMON KENTON was mystified by the disappearance of young Ashbridge and the canoe. The scout's familiarity with the Ohio left no doubt of his having returned to the very point where he had parted from the youth, so the ranger could not make himself believe the mistake lay with him. He stood motionless on the edge of the overhanging limbs, where the water reached almost to his shoulders, and tried to figure it all out. " I must find him," he reflected, " for he's got my gun, and I wouldn't lose that for all the canoes and Ashbridges this side of Vir- ginny." In the stillness he heard a sound as of sup- pressed voices, as though people were talking FELLOW PASSENGEES. 103 Tvitli each other. He listened, and quickly located the point. It was on the river, and not far off. A minute or two was sufficient for Kenton to gain an inkling of the truth. Without hesitation he began swimming toward the point, aiming so as not to go directly to but somewhat below it. He was swimming in an easy, deliberate way when he caught the outline of a canoe a little distance out in the river. The suspicions of the hunter were stirred, and he cautiously swam toward it. It sat so high on the water that he knew it contained no more than a single occu- pant, if indeed it had that. Nearer ap- proach convinced him that the craft was the one for which he was looking, and that it was empty. A minute later the whole truth was mani- fest. It was the canoe that had vanished so mysteriously, and its contents consisted of the long paddle and the rifles respectively of Kenton and young Ashbridge. Everything became clear to the scout. 104 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " The Tounker has found the flatboat of his friends. They're all on board, and he was so tickled to larn it that he just dived over the gunnel and forgot to fasten the canoe that took him there. Wal, it was a piece of 'stronnery carelessness for the younker, but it won't do to be too hard on him. He ain't the first chap that has lost his wits 'cause he was happy." From this soliloquy the reader will per- ceive that the sagacious ranger was not far from the truth. Kenton caught up the paddle and ap- proached the flatboat, which speedily loomed to view in the darkness. His appearance caused some alarm among the folks who were on the craft, but when the identity of the famous scout became known, it need not be said that he received a most joyous welcome. Indeed, as the elder Ashbridge declared, the party was completed by the arrival of the dripping ranger. " It ain't often things turn out like this," observed Kenton ; " where Injins is consarned it most giner'ly goes tother way — that is, FELLOW PASSENGERS. 105 where tilings look all right, they're powerful apt to be all wrong." "I'm so delighted, Kenton, that I can hardly restrain myself from flinging up my cap and shouting," said young Ashbridge, who had managed to move close enough to Agnes Altman to touch her hand in a timid way. " I'd put that ere shoutin' and yellin' off fur awhile," gravely advised Kenton. " For how long ?" "Waal, say two or three years; by that time this part of the country will be purty well settled and you'll be out of the woods. Better wait till then. As I was sayin', we're jDOwerful apt to find that things have gone wrong rather than right when Injins is con- sarned. I had a sneaking hope all along that mebbe the younker was off the trail, and his folks was on another flatboat that the var- mints hadn't got hold of, but when Sime Girty obsarved them things to me and I knowed they was the truth — that the people on that ere boat down the river was a man, his wife and darter and an old man — I couldn't doubt any more. I never heerd the 106 SHOD WITH SILENCE. younker speak of the old man, but the others fixed the thing, and I s'posed, of course, the old man was one of the family." "Then you had no hope of finding us alive?" asked young Ashbridge, always in- terested in what his friend had to say. " Not the fust bit— that is, I didn't ontil I come across the canoe." It should be said that the flatboat on which our friends were descending the Ohio was the counterpart of the one that had fallen into the hands of Girty and the Shawanoes. The most careful scrutiny would hardly have de- tected any difference. There was not a foot's variation in the length and width, and each had the single sweeping oar hung on a pivot at either end. The variation, if it may be considered such, was at the stern, which had been divided into two compartments, for the use of the male and female members of the company. This part was roofed over, and the sides protected by bullet-proof planking. True, the quarters were somewhat cramped, but in the days of the pioneers the discomforts and FELLOW PASSENGERS. 107 hard necessities of these times would have been considered luxuries. It must be remembered, too, that the females were only four in number, and it was midsummer. While there were three males, it was neces- sary that one of them should always be on guard. Mr. Ashbridge's experience in the west had taught him the danger of running any risk that could be avoided by care and vigilance. All this time the flatboat was riding at anchor. The canoe had been fastened to the side, and Kenton withdrew the elder Ashbridge and Altman to the forward part of the craft to talk over some matters while beyond hear- ing of the women folks. The ladies' first thought, after the flurry of the meeting Avas over, was the duty of hos- pitality. They had eaten their evening meal before the day was wholly gone, but the youth and the scout had partaken only slightly in the earlier part of the day. 108 SHOD WITH SILENCE. George withdrew to the stern and seated himself on one of the boxes, the most of which had been arranged so as to serve as chairs? while his mother and Mrs. Altman busied themselves in preparing him food, with the coy Agnes and the radiant Mabel giving what aid they could. These preparations were slight, for no fire was kindled, and that which was served was in the nature of a cold lunch, consisting only of plain bread. Jethro sat down on a box a little way from his old friend, but nigh enough to catch the delicious odor of the cold food. " Wittles is kind of sca'ce, George, dat is to say, I allers finds 'em sca'ce," remarked the negro, clasping one of his knees with his hands, and leaning back ; "so I would like to obsarve dat if yo' happens to find yo' has more dan yo' knows what to do wid — why dars no need ob flungin' it overboard." " No, I will see that they are saved for some other time," replied the youth, partaking of his food, and reading the drift of Jethro's remarks. FELLOW PASSENGEES. 109 *' I guess dar's enuff not to make dat ob necessary." " If I am not to throw overboard the food which I don't want, and am not to lay it by to be saved, what shall I do, Jethro?" " Guv it to me ; I'll take care ob it." " Here you are, then," said George, too happy in his own great joy to mar any one's pleasure even in jest, as he tossed about half his liberal supper to the faithful African, who would have gladly undergone the pangs of starvation for his sake. The mother of George Ashbridge, his sister, Mrs. Altman, and Agnes grouped themselves around him, all finding comfortable places during the meal, which was a light one on the part of the youth. Mrs Ashbridge took a substantial lunch to the front of the boat, where Kenton and the two men were conversing in low tones. The scout thanked her in his rough but polite way, and she noticed that the conversation was suspended or changed while she was within hearing. The fact, however, caused her no discom- 110 SHOD WITH SILENCE. fort. She was willing to trust the group, especially now that Simon Kenton formed one of the members. His fame and that of Boone penetrated many miles to the eastward, and his presence was a power and might of itself " There isn't any doubt of it," said Ash- bridge, after his wife had withdrawn beyond earshot; "I urged McDougall to join me in going down the river, telling him we needed all our strength, and it would be much safer for all of us if we united forces. He was in- clined to do so, but I suspect it was his wife who opposed. She had a fancy that if they went alone they would be able to select a better spot where to put up their home than if others were with them. McDougall started nearly two days ahead of us, and I don't see how we are so close on his heels." " That's plain enough," said Kenton, " he's laid to oftener than you, so you've catched up with him." "Poor Mac," remarked Altman, with a sigh. " His home was only a mile from ours, and he would have been glad to go with us, FELLOW PASSENGERS. Ill but, as I said, liis wife thought dififerently, and now they've all been killed." " There ain't no doubt of that," commented Kenton. " Tom," said Mr. Ashbridge to Mr. Altman, " do you regret coming with me?" "I'm in doubt," was the reply; "they are what make cowards of a man," he added, jerking his thumb toAvard the happy group at the stern ; "if our wives and children were at home I would welcome a stirring expe- rience like that which confronts us." "There are settlers lower down the river than you folks intend to go," said Kenton. " Some of 'em have been there for more'n a year; if the trouble among the redskins passes, it'll come out all right. If the block- house was below you, I'd advise you to stop there awhile. As it is, I'll go there after seeing you landed and fixed ; me and the rest of the boys will keep sharp watch of the var- mints for the next few weeks, and if there's bad times ahead, we'll help you back to the block-house till it blows over." " That's probably the best arrangement 112 SHOD WITH SILENCE. M-e can make," said Ashbridge ; " as I figure it, we're about six miles below the block- bouse on the Ohio shore, and something less from the clearing where we projDOse to make our home." " You're right," commented Kenton ; " but do you want to have a brush with Girty and the varmints on t'other flatboat ?" " I feel as though I would like to punish them for what they have done," replied Alt- man. " AVhat do you think, Norman ?" " We're in a good situation to do so ; there are three of us, not counting Jethro, and Kenton there, who is of more account than all of us." " I heard enough," said the scout, " to larn they'll try one of their tricks on you, and it won't be much trouble to trap 'em." *' It's worth trying ; but if they are drifting down stream we may not be able to overtake them." " They know where you're aiming for, and they'll anchor agin afore they reach the spot, so if we h'ist anchor we're sartin to float close to 'em " FELLOW PASSENGERS. 113 " Let's do it," exclaimed Altman ; " we may- be able not only to punish but to teach them a lesson they need." Kenton nodded his head, to signify he was suited ; and Altman, rising to his feet, saun- tered to the stern to pull up the anchor. AVhile the conversation was under way, the moon appeared above the dark forest on the Ohio shore, and, though it was hardly gib- bous in form, yet in the clear sky it shed so much additional light that objects could be identified a number of rods in every direc- tion. This was counted an advantage by our friends. The flatboat, like that which preceded it, carried no horses, cows, or live stock. While such animals were almost indispensable, yet it was deemed best to wait until their home was made more secure. Then, what w^as re- quired could be obtained from some of the settlements. Altman took position at the rear oar and Ashbridge at the front. The handles were so close that they could converse in whispers? being only a few feet apart. 114 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Kenton stationed himself near the bow, so as to look out for the other boat, which he was confident of discovering before going far. Sure enough, less than two miles were passed when he turned his head toward his friends behind him and said in a low voice, but loud enough to be heard by all : "Yonder the varmints are, and they're waiting for us !" THE SUBTERFUGE. 115 CHAPTER XI. THE SUBTERFUGE. NOW that the second flatboat had loomed to view in the dim moonlight, Simon Kenton took charge of matters. Surely none were better fitted than he, and all were glad to have the benefit of his skill, experience, and personal daring. It had been deemed best not to give the women any intimation of what was likely to come, and inasmuch as it was ten o'clock, they were urged to retire to rest. Accordingly, Mrs. Altman, Mrs. Ashbridge, Mabel, and Agnes bade good-night to their friends, and withdrew into the cabin that had been fitted up and set apart for their use. This was fully half an hour before coming in sight of the other craft, and all had sunk into slumber, for they were wearied, and to a certain extent had become accustomed to peril. 116 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Thus tliey were less aflfected than they had been by other causes during the early part of their journey. This left the two full-grown men and young Ashbridge, who gathered around the moist Kenton at the bow of the boat. ** If you'll look a little to the right toward the Ohio shore," said the hunter, " you'll see it." All observed the craft, so similar to their own, lying motionless in the current, and about one-third nearer the land than their boat. " Now," said Kenton, in the same guarded manner ; *' I'll do the talking. I'll sort of change my voice so Sime Girty won't know me ; that is till I want him to know who I am ; you must keep down so low that none of 'em will see you. He mustn't 'spect how many we've got with us till we're ready to let him know." It was not until our friends were almost opposite the lower flatboat that Girty dis- covered their approach. Then he hailed them. THE SUBTERFUGE. 117 "Helloa there!" Not forgetting to change his voice to pre- vent recognition by his old acquaintance, Kenton rej^lied : " Helloa to you !" "Won't you give me a lift?" inquired Girty. " I don't understand you." "Work your boat over this way, so as to take us on board." " What are you ?" asked Kenton, smil- ing to himself, for he knew what was coming. " I started with my brother and his wife last week from Wheeling ; the Injins attacked us up the river, but we beat 'em off; they wounded all three of us, but me the worst ; I'm hardly able to set up." " Why don't you lay down, then ?" " That's an onfeelin' way to talk to a brother in distress," whined the renegade, in a voice that indicated that he was trying hard to keep back the tears. " It does sound rather rough," remarked Kenton, though regretting his words. At the same moment he gave the tij^ to Altman, who 118 SHOD WITH SILENCE. let the big stone, which served as an anchor, drop overboard. "Don't you obsarve," continued Kenton, addressing the man whose given name was the same as his own, " that I'm too far down stream to work over to you ?" " Shall I h'ist anchor and work at mine so we can j'ine further down ?" " I thought you was hurt too bad to do that ?" " I can help a little, though it will pain me a good deal." "I've dropped anchor, and we'll see about what you say later." " How many are on your boat?" " I have myself and a couple of ladies and children," replied Kenton, telling only a part of the truth. " Oh, I'm so thankful," whimpered Girty. "Why?" " The good women will look after us better than rough men could." " Yes," grimly thought Kenton, " and you would look after them." Then he said : " They told us at the block-house to look THE SUBTEEFUGE. 119 out for decoys, and I promised not to forget ■what they said." " What are decoys?" was the innocent query. " Men that purtend to be what they ain't — such chaps as that Simon Girty, who is worse than the Injins themselves. Have you ever heard of him ?" " I have ; he is a bad man to act that way ; I hope you don't have any 'spicions of me ?" " Oh, no, but I'm a little afeard ; I'd rather wait till morning ; you can stand it till then, can't you?" " I'll have to, if you mean to be so cruel and unfeelin'." " It was at this juncture that the keen-eyed Kenton made a discovery, which, it is safe to say, would have passed unnoted by every one else on the boat, and which few who had tramped the wilderness as long as he would have detected. A shadowy object put out from the other side of the captured flatboat, moving silently and swiftly down stream. Dimly discernible from the first, it vanished from view the mo- ment after the scout observed it. 120 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Kenton needed no clearer view to iden- tify the thing ; it was the Indian canoe that had left the other side of the craft, bearing two, if not more, Indians, who intended to make a stealthy descent upon the unsuspicious boat, which they believed contained only a single male defender. The scout indulged in a quiet smile, for this was what he had manoeuvred for, and success seemed in sight. It was necessary to hold the attention of the renegade while guarding against the undetected approach of the Shawanoes, who had resorted to the artifice. Adding a warning to his friends to re- main carefully hidden behind the boxes, Kenton said to his old acquaintance, who little dreamed with whom he was holding converse : " You don't talk like a man who would tell a story." " My gracious, no ! It would break my heart if you thought so." " I don't want to break your heart, I'm sure ; but haven't you a canoe with you, or THE SUBTERFUGE. 121 some small boat that you can paddle across to me ?" " We've nothing of the kind, and if we had none of us would be able to paddle it, 'cause we're hurt too bad. But if you think best for us to wait here till daylight I guess we can git along." *' Hold on till I talk it over with my wife and sister- in-law." Under this pretext, Kenton gained the chance to stop the conversation for a time without awaking suspicion. He quickly ex- plained to his friends what he had learned. "Mebbe I'll need your help and mebbe I won't," he added ; " but don't forgit to stay where you are until I give you the word. If there are three or four of the varmints in the canoe, I'll want you, but don't stir afore I call you. If there ain't more than two I'll 'tend to 'em myself In the faint light I couldn't make out how many there was in the boat." "What is it they intend to do?" asked young Ashbridge. " I 'spect they'll steal round so as to come 122 SHOD WITH SILENCE. down on the starn, hoping they won't be noticed in time for us to stop 'em." " And what will you do ?" " That depends ; keep quiet, lay low, and leave things to me." The scout felt he had said enough. His friends understood him and held their peace, filled with excited expectation, but obeying him in spirit and letter. Kenton resumed his position at the bow, but now stood erect, so as to command a view of the river on every side. He knew the canoe would soon attempt its stealthy ap- proach, and though he had not revealed it, his own plan of action was clearly formed. He was on the point of calling out to Girty, when he heard a faint, tremulous cry, as if made by some night bird ; but instead of coming from some point on either shore, it came from the river. It was a signal from the Indians in the canoe to the renegade on the flatboat. Not only that, but the woodcraft of Kenton enabled him to interpret it. The Shawanoes were hovering just beyond THE SUBTERFUGE. 123 the line of visibility, and not liking tlie still- ness that had settled over both crafts, wished the conversation resumed, under cover of which they were waiting to advance. "Haven't you made up your mind yet?" called Girty, well aware of the tense situation and what was expected of him. "The women folks have left it to me." "And what do you think, friend?" " Wall, I hardly know what to say ; but being as you're hurt so bad, I'm afeard you can't work your oar so as to give help." " Don't you see that won't make any differ- ence ? We'll float along side by side till you paddle your boat over to me." " I guess Tve had better wait awhile." " Mebbe that's as well," replied the rene- gade, who now wished to give his Indian allies time to carry out their little scheme. Indeed, it was already under way. AVhile the last words were on the lips of the speaker, Kenton saw the canoe coming down stream with the silence of a shadow. Like the moc- casins of the great scout and ranger^ the pad- dle seemed " shod with silence." 124 SHOD WITH SILENCE, The Shawanoes at first had descended the river so far that even the keen eyes of Ken- ton could not see them when they shot across to the Kentucky shore. Then they went up stream until a safe distance above the flatboat, upon which it was now advancing in a straight line. The subtle red men, for there were two of them, intended to land at the stern and creep over the gunwale. Fully armed as both were, they counted on no difficulty or danger in overcoming the single defender and toma- hawking the defenceless ones. Since there were but two in the canoe, Kenton decided to attend to them without help from his friends. He expected the little craft to advance swiftly, now that it had entered the field of vision, but to his surj^rise it hesitated and held back, as though the inmates were not fully satisfied with the outlook. They were more guarded than he anticipated. " AVhat is your name ?" he called, with a view of inducing an advance by his enemies in their little craft. THE SUBTEEFUGE. 125 " Volney," was the prompt response, " and it was a sorry clay when we left our home in West Virginia to come to this 'cursed country. Aren't you sorry that you've been fool enough to do the same ?" " I don't know why I should be ; there hain't nothing happened to us yet." Kenton would have said more ; but, w^hile keeping his eye on the canoe, now in plain sight and approaching faster than ever, he was startled to discover that, whereas there were two Indians in it a few minutes before, now there was only one. " What's become of that other varmint ?" he asked himself, knowing that some subtle mischief was afoot; "he's up to some dev- iltry, I'm sure, and there's more in this busi- ness than I thought." The conclusion of the scout was correct, as he quickly learned. 126 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XII. LIVELY WOEK. WONDERFUL as was the woodcraft of Simon Kenton, the events of liis stir- ring life proved that it was not always keen enough to protect him in personal peril, and it would be a wrong conception of his charac- ter and career to represent him as never fail- ing to get the better of his enemies in the ex- citing game of strategy. He was now confronted by two foes as won- derfully cunning as himself. Though they credited, like Girty, the declaration that only one man was on board the second flatboat, they were too cautious to accept it as a fact without some investigation of their own. At the moment, therefore, when the canoe was within a few rods of the larger craft, and the scout was bracing himself for the en- counter, one of the Shawanoes silently let LIVELY WORK. 127 himself into the water, and, armed only with a knife and tomahawk, began swimming to- ward the flatboat. He was repeating the tactics of the scout himself, and doing it with some amazing cleverness, for instead of swimming on the surface he dropped beneath and easily passed the intervening space, coming up at the stern, and near enough to reach the gunwale with outstretched hand. * Doing this, with the same absence of noise shown from the first, he slowly raised himself high enough to peer over the side of the boat. He noted the piles and boxes, but could see only one person. He was standing at the front, looking in the direction of the canoe. His posture proved he had detected it, and was wondering what it meant. The fine sense of hearing enabled the Shawanoe scout to note the gentle breathing of the inmates of the cabin at his side. That was confirmatory of the suspicion that these helpless ones had but the single defender. The watching and listening friends were so securely concealed behind the luggage, and 128 SHOD WITH SILENCE. held their positions with so much care that the intruder neither heard nor saw anything of them. But the faint moonlight told him the soli- tary white man possessed great strength and activity. He held his rifle at his side, and douhtless was armed in other respects. He would fight like a tiger in the defence of his family. It would not do, therefore, to make an open attack on him. Strategy must be resorted to. The dusky scout must steal upon him unawares or wait for the help of his companion. An unusually large box offered a chance for greater concealment. It was a few feet to his right, and with the same marvellous still- ness, the warrior shifted his position until the screen was between him and the sentinel. No greater proof of the Shawanoe's mar- vellous skill can be given than the simple statement that Simon Kenton did not suspect his presence, and would not have known mis- chief was afoot, had he not noticed that where he had seen two Indians in the canoe he now saw but one. LIVELY WOEK. 129 Reaching the right spot the dusky intruder again drew himself upon the gunwale. Only that portion of his body that was absolutely necessary appeared above the side of the flat- boat, and that was hidden from sight by the obstacle already mentioned. Kenton could not detect the redskin without changing his own position. A few seconds later, the Indian had glided over the gunwale and was crouching behind the box which had done so much good ser- vice. He was on the flatboat at last, and even the famous scout did not suspect the ominous fact. The Indian glanced toward the rude cabin whose front was oj^en and was almost within arm's length. His black, serpent eyes glowed like those of a demon. How easily he could creep within the structure, and with a few quick, fierce strokes of the glittering knife complete an awful work. It would be all over before the man at the other end of the boat could raise his arm to prevent. Why hesitate to do it ? But the native cowardice of the miscreant 9 130 SHOD WITH SILENCE. stayed his arm. True, he might complete the terrible deed, but he was certain to encounter the man before he could leap from the craft into the water. The issue of such a collision, to say the most, would be doubtful. No ; the policy of the American Indian is to avoid a fair, open fight. Treachery, cun- ning and merciless ferocity are his choicest weapons. First of all, that dreaded figure at the bow must be removed from the path. Then would come the sweet delight of the massacre of the innocents. The boxes, luggage and debris covering the bottom of the flatboat offered tempting means to the Indian to accomplish his pur- pose. He believed he could thread his way through and among them, taking advan- tage of the shadows and advancing with a stealth and stillness that would prevent de- tection. Once in the rear of the sentinel, and he could drive his knife with such terrific vicious- ness in his back that a second blow would not be needed. The Shawanoe set out to do this. Then LIVELY WORK. 131 the " deck would be cleared " for the arrival of his companion, who, it must be borne in mind, was approaching with the canoe, and was now at hand. Meanwhile, Simon Kenton was doing some hard thinking. The great question with him was as to the whereabouts of that second Indian, who was plainly seen in the canoe when it emerged from the enveloping gloom. The scout stood silent, listening and watching, meaning not to be taken off his guard. "It'll be just like him to try to sneak up onto the boat, while t'other varmint is hang- ing back. I must look out for that." Kenton's quick survey of his surround- ings disclosed the only spot where a hostile could steal over the gunwale without de- tection, so long as the scout held his present position. Accordingly, he shifted his pose so as to command a view of that sing-le point. The mistake thus made, as the reader will perceive, was in losing sight of the possibility that the Shawanoe had already effected that which a moment before was within the range 132 SHOD WITH SILENCE. of accomplishment. Had Kenton moved to the right a little sooner, he would have caught instant sight of the painted face, with the dripping horsehair dangling about the shoul- ders, as it rose like a hideously eclipsed moon above the horizon of the gunwale ; as it was, the scout was just too late. In front of the crouching Shawanoe opened an avenue a few feet in length and wide enough for the passage of his body. It was between the box that had sheltered him so well and its neighbor, not quite so large or elevated. Looking down at it, the space which was in shadow seemed dark and clear of obstruction. Extending his wet moccasin, the warrior set it down and bore his weight upon it. Immediately there was a howl, loud and frishtful enouofh to wake the dead. With never a thought of anything of the kind, the Indian had invaded the couch of Jethro Juggens, who w^as lying flat on his back with his eyes closed and his mouth open. The most unaccountable fact about the episode was that the African was breath- LIVELY WORK. 133 ing so softly that the 'cautious Shawanoe did not hear him. This was the more remarkable because it was often necessary to awaken Jethro and make him shift his position in order to give the rest a chance to sleep. The moccasin descended directly over the open mouth of Jethro, who emitted the ter- rified cry, half smothered in its utterance, and struggled desperately to throw off the in- cubus. No one could have seen more quickly than did the Indian that he had " put his foot in it " in the truest sense of the term. The out- cry told him that a deception had been at- tempted upon him by the unprincipled white man, and that only one course remained for him to save himself. He took that course like a flash. Leaping backward, he went over the side of the flatboat, and, striking the water, dis- appeared like so much lead, '' Shoot him quick !" called Kenton, who wished to reserve his shot for the second In- dian that appeared on the scene at this mo- ment. 134 SHOD WITH SILENCE. The words were addressed to Altaian, who, forgetful of the caution, had partly risen to his feet on hearing the cry, while the Ashbridges hesitated to move until asked to do so. Altman was erect in a twinkling, with rifle at his shoulder, on the alert for a sight of the Shawanoe. He stared over the side of the boat, ready to aim and pull trigger the instant he caught sight of the target. " He has dived ; he will be up in a minute, but if you ain't quick he'll dodge you ; don't miss," warned Kenton. " I won't miss if I can only get a show to aim at something," replied Altman, who was exasperated that no target presented itself Suddenly a ripple showed in the water sixty feet away. The pioneer's finger pressed the trigger, but he held his fire until he could gain a better view. "Why don't you shoot?" asked Kenton, impatiently. *' I would have done so if I hs^dn't thought you would nail him." " I want to see him plainer." LIVELY WORK. 135 "You won't see him at all." " Why not ?" " He has dived agin, and won't come up till he's out of sight." " I didn't think of that," replied the dis- appointed Altman, still keeping his gun at a level, and weakly hoping the scout was mis- taken. But he was not. The daring Shawanoe had escaped, and was certain not to present another so favorable opportunity to his ene- mies. While this stirring episode was under way, a still more exciting occurrence was taking place at another part of the boat. It has been said that Jethro Juggens was a good-natured person. Such was the fact, but good-natured persons are the most to be feared when aroused ; and if anything is cal- culated to inflame one's wrath, it is to have a man not only place his wet foot over one's mouth, but to bear down his full weight upon it. Even though the warrior had with- drawn his dripping moccasin the next in- stant, it did not lessen the fury of the African, 136 SHOD WITH SILENCE. roused iu that startling fashion from sound slumber. " Any man dat plays dat trick onto me has got to die !" he exclaimed, struggling to his feet, and plunging for the savage that had mortally insulted him. As has been ex- plained, however, the Indian who first stepped upon the flatboat succeeded in getting away without receiving a scratch. But it so happened that the second warrior had reached the side of the craft at the mo- ment his companion was trying to steal upon the scout at the bow. Before the explosion occurred, the last visitor placed his hand on the gunwale, and went over into the inte- rior with the nimble dexterity shown by the other. It was at this juncture that Jethro emitted his shout, and the first Shawanoe leaped over- board. The second warrior was " rattled " for a brief moment, and paused in doubt whether to advance or retreat. He must have thought that the cry of the dusky youth was caused by a mortal wound, but the flight of the Indian and the glimpse LIVELY WOEK. 137 of other figures apprised tlie hesitating sav- asre that a serious mistake had been made. As he came over into the boat, he brought all his weapons with him, including his rifle, which was grasped in his right hand. Without attempting to make any use of any of them, he wheeled to follow his com- rade. It was at this juncture that Jethro sprang forward. In the confusion of the moment, he confounded the two Shawanoes, suppos- ing only one was concerned, and that he who turned his back upon him was he whose pressure he still seemed to feel on his mouth. "I'll teach yo' better manners dan dat!" roared Jethro, throwing his powerful arms around the Shawanoe in such a way as to pin his hands to his sides at the very moment he was about to leap over. The savage struggled desperately, but the African put forth all his mighty strength, and flung him violently upon the bottom of the bout. Still twisting, squirming and writhing, the warrior was hurled again 138 SHOD WITH SILENCR against the planking, Jethro falling heavily upon him. " I's got you fast, ole chap !" muttered the sturdy youth, " an yo' can't help yo'self " The next moment Simon Kenton strode forward, and, stooping over, scrutinized the painted face of the struggling captive. " Do you know who've you got, Jethro ?" he asked. " Yas, I's got de chap dat put his foot in my mouf." " And he is The Panther, chief of the Shawanoes ! You've made a powerful big capture." THE PEISONEE OF STATE. 139 CHAPTEK XIII. THE PKISONEE OF STATE. JETHRO JUGGENS was not especially impressed by the fact that the prisoner, fighting so desperately to free himself from his grasp, was The Panther, one of the most dangerous chiefs of the Shawanoes. The African had never before heard his name, but not doubting that he was the in- dividual who had pressed his water-soaked moccasin against his mouth when asleep, he proceeded to " teach him better manners," as he had set out to do. The noise and confusion roused all the sleepers, who peered afifrightedly out from their cabin to learn the meaning of the tumult. " We are in no danger," explained Mr. Ashbridge, stepping over near the women. " An Indian stole on board, and Jethro has taken charge of him." 140 SHOD WITH SILENCE. The females hastily arranged their partially removed clothing, and came forth to learn more fully what the strange proceedings meant. The men, including Kenton, ranged themselves around the combatants and watched the issue. Knowing the terrible chieftain who was thus caught, the scout thought it more likely he would have to interfere to prevent The Panther getting the better of Jethro, despite the great disadvantage at which the former was caught. Had the conditions been equal, Jethro must have succumbed, for the Shawanoe was more wiry, skilful, and, like most of his race, possessed a peculiar faculty of twisting himself out of the grasp of an antagonist. It will be remembered that the African had flung his arms around the Shawanoe at the waist, pinning him fast. The grip, too, was from the rear instead of the front, which was more in favor of Jethro. As long as he retained that hold, the fearful Panther was an infant in his grasp. The first thing done by the Shawanoe, THE PRISONER OF STATE. 141 when lie comprehended how he was seized, was to let go of his cumbersome rifle and try to draw his knife. Had he succeeded in doing this and facing about, he would have slain the negro with lightning-like quickness. It was that against which Kenton was watching, he having hast- ened to the spot the instant he saw the other had escaped. " Keep your grip on him, Jethro," called the scout, who, like the rest, began to see the grim humor of the situation. " If you don't, he'll kill you with knife or toma- hawk." "Not much he won't!" replied Jethro, who, despite his tremendous pressure and exertions, felt the eel-like antagonist slip- ping from his arms. The African fell back on the only recourse at command when this took place. Closing his vise-like arms round the straightened limbs of the Indian, he hurled him sideways to the bottom of the boat. It was the third time he had done so, but the violence of the last movement was 142 SHOD WITH SILENCE. greater than that of the others combined. The Panther landed on his side with so much force that he lay stunned and motion- less. *' I guess he won't stick his foot in any- more colored gemman's moufs," muttered the panting Jethro, rising to his feet and survey- ing his prostrate antagonist. Kenton stepped forward, picked up the Indian's rifle, and handed it to Mr. Altman. Then he deftly withdrew the tomahawk and knife from the girdle at the waist. The Pan- ther was now without a weapon with which to defend himself. " I suppose he thought you looked hungry," remarked his employer ; " why didn't you bite the moccasin before he could take it away ?" " He didn't guv me a chance," replied Jethro ; "I war sound asleep when I thought dat a whale had flapped his tail ober my face. By the time I woke up and knowed what war gwine on, he was scootin'. I scooted too, and grabbed him as he started to sail overboard." THE PEISONEE OF STATE. 143 " But, Jethro, lie isn't the Indian that stepped on you," said young Ashbridge. "What yo' talkin' 'bout, Marse George?" asked the African, with a reproving look at his young friend. " It's a fact ; the Indian who used your face for a door mat, thinking it was only a part of the darkness, jumped into the water and swam away before you were fully awake." " He speaks the truth," added the elder Ashbridge. " Den who am this chap ?" asked the ]3uz- zled Jethro. " Kenton told you he was The Panther." . " He ain't no panther ; he's an Injin." " The Panther is his name, and he is one of the worst Shawanoes living." " Why didn't you tole me dat afore ?" " What difference does it make ?" " I would hab handled him more keerful ; wouldn't had frowed him down but twice, and would hab picked out a softer place for him to fall onto." "If you had tried that he would have 144 SHOD WITH SILENCE. finished you/' said Kenton, whose eyes were fixed on the motionless figure at their feet ; " have a care, folks ; that chap will come to himself in a few minutes." *'What if he does?" inquired Mr. Ash- bridge. " He'll give us the slip ; bring a rope and we'll tie him." It was Agnes Altman who whisked into the cabin, and quickly reappeared with the article requested. The hunters and woods- men of those times often used the leathern fringes of their dress for such purpose, but only in case of necessity. "Don't be cruel to him," she said, in a sympathetic voice, " he didn't step in Jethro's- mouth." *' I wouldn't blame him if that was all he done, for I cal'late when that darkey lays down with his mouth open a chap has got to step powerful keerful not to drop into it, but The Panther is a bad varmint, and nothing would please him more than to kill your father, mother, and all the rest of us." The gentle girl was shocked to hear these THE PRISONER OF STATE. 145 words, but her tender heart was touched with pity for the warrior who had been so roughly used by the burly African, and she hoped nothing further would be done to the captive. The Panther had fully recovered his senses, but he remained motionless, seem- ingly with closed eyes. He could speak English quite well, and lost hardly a word that was uttered. He was playing " possum," and on the alert for a chance to elude his captors. His weapolis having been taken from him, there was no possibility of his recovering any one of them, but he could not have been without hope of outwitting his enemies. When Kenton knelt over him, with the rope in one hand, he knew the crisis had come. With incredible dexterity he bounded from his prone position and made a desperate effort to leap overboard. He would have suc- ceeded, too, but for the scout. The latter was expecting such an attempt, and before the chief could carry it into execution he was forced back on the floor of the boat, the strong rope was twisted and 10 146 SHOD WITH SILENCE. tied about liis ankles, and then his wrists were fastened behind his back in the same secure fashion. At last he was absolutely helpless, and the rest could stand back and contemplate the fallen chieftain, and know there was no pos- sibility of his harming them or getting away. Now that the threatened peril had been averted, and the people on board the flatboat had recovered from their flurry, Altman said to Kenton : "We have forgotten something." " What is it ?" asked the scout. " Yonder is the other flatboat ; Girty and one at least of the Indians, and probably more, are on board; our work is not done until we have punished them." '*How shall we do it? The canoe they came in has floated away." " But we have one of our own, on the other side of the flatboat." *' That will carry three of us if it is handled keerfully." " I think it might hold more, but that is enough — you, Ashbridge and me." THE PEISONEK OF STATE. 147 "What is your idee?" asked Kenton. "Let's paddle over and shoot all of tliem ! When I recall the poor McDoiigalls — the strong man, the wife, the little child and the aged father — all slain by those fiends, my blood boils. If I was certain that that demon lying there had a hand in it, I would shoot him, even though he is a prisoner, bound hand and foot, and unable to raise a finger in self-defence." " He deserves it," replied Kenton, glancing sideways at The Panther, " for that's the style of the varmints when they have us foul, but somehow or other I can't bring myself to strike a man when he's down, even if he is a redskin." " No, it would be beyond pardon, but let's make a fair battle with the other flatboat. Ashbridge and I will be glad to follow if you will lead. x4.m I right, Norman ?" The three were standing a little apart, and spoke in tones too low to be overheard. "Nothing will please me better; there will be some risk, but it wouldn't be worth under- taking if there wasn't." 148 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " Very well, it suits me," coolly responded the scout, " as soon as we can fix things we'll start, but it wouldn't be a bad idee to larn how matters are on t'other boat afore we make 'em a call." " How can that be done ?" " I'll ask Girty some questions ; he won't 'spect nothing and will tell me the truth." " If he does sjDcak with a single tongue, as these redskins have it, his information should be yaluable." '' One of you had better step over to The Panther and keep an eye onto him ; even though he's tied hand and foot he may man- age to play some trick." Acting on the suggestion, Ashbridge moved across the slight intervening space and joined the group, who were looking down with varying emotions upon the frightful captive. The Panther, grim and sullen, had worked himself to a sitting position, with his back to the planking at the side of the boat, and his bound ankles thrust against one of the boxes, beside which Jethro Juggens was sleeping THE PRISONER OF STATE. 149 when roused in the aggravating fashion re- lated. The fallen chief did not look up, nor were the coppery lips moved in utterance. Proud, sullen, untamable, defiant, he was ready to meet his fate with the same stoicism that he showed when viewing the sufferings of some hopeless cajitive tied to the stake and with the fagots blazino; at his feet. Assured that nothing further was likely to occur to disturb them, the women and girls once more withdrew to their cabin. The incident was an exciting one, and naturally disturbed all, but one of the strange facts connected with this human nature of ours is the readiness with which it adapts itself to circumstances. Agnes and Mabel made the others promise not to inflict any further indignity upon the captive, and fifteen minutes later the girls and their mothers were unconscious. " I'd lay down and finish my nap," re- marked Jethro, " if I could feel sartin dat som oder Injun wouldn't try to step into my mouf •' 150 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " Why not lay one of the boxes over your mouth?" asked George Ashbridge. "That would protect you." "Hoof! I'd like to know how I could breve, smarty !" retorted Jethro, turning his back on his young friend and looking for a place to lie down, for his capacity for sleep was hardly less amazing than his appetite for food. Ashbridge and his father were left alone. The parent explained what had been decided upon by Kenton, Altman and himself. The youth insisted upon making one of the party, but the parent would not consent, nor would Kenton listen to it — not because of any doubt of the young man's skill and courage, but rather on that account. It would be the height of imprudence to leave the women and children, even for a short time, without any protection except that of Jethro Juggens, especially when such a terrible prisoner as The Panther was on board. Accordingly the three stepped carefully into the canoe drifting alongside, and Kenton THE PRISONER OF STATE. 151 lifted the paddle, wliicli he knew how to handle so well. ."There's one thing I don't understand," whispered Altman to his friend, as the two placed themselves near each other. "What's that?" " When Kenton held his last conversation with Simon Girty, on the other flatboat, he did not use a word of English. Both spoke in the Shawanoe gibberish." " Nor do I see the cause of that," replied Ashbridge. Had the friends understood the reason they would have had no difficulty in comprehend- ing another interesting incident which speed- ily followed. 152 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XIV. THE TORCH. IT need not be said of Simon Kenton that he was one of the best friends the pio- neers of Kentucky and Ohio ever had. There are men still living who remember the genial old man who attained the age of four score. He became deeply religious in later years, and was noted as one of the sweetest singers at many of the old-fashioned camp-meetings in the west during the early years of the present century. Although the hero of some of the fiercest encounters with the red men, and one whose daring was never surpassed among a class noted for personal intrepidity, he often showed the sympathetic tenderness of a woman. It may be said of him that he always fought honorably and fairly, and left a name un- stained by a single unworthy deed. THE TOECH. 153 It has already been intimated that he was under deep obligations to the man who was his exact opposite in every respect — Simon Girty, the renegade. This ferocious miscreant, of whom scarcely the slightest good can be told, once saved Kenton from being burned to death at the stake by Indians. It was Girty who sat on a horse and laughed at the wretched Colonel Crawford when a horde of warriors and squaws were torturing him, and he begged the white man to shoot him and end his misery. The one service Girty rendered Kenton prevented the latter from seeking the life of him who was the sworn enemy of all his race. The scout was ready at all times to do his utmost to defeat the jolans of the evil person, and hesitated not to shoot down his compan- ions in wrong-doing, but he could not visit injury upon the renegade himself This will give the key to the conversation between the two at the time it was conducted in the Shawanoe language. The listening Girty on his boat was quick 154 SHOD WITH SILENCE. to comprehend that the scheme of himself and The Panther had miscarried, even before he learned the particulars. The warrior who effected his escape so cleverly swam desperately back to the flat- boat, and made known the disaster that had followed the attempt to outwit the settlers on the other craft. The disguised voice of Kenton had pre- vented the renegade from suspecting the truth, and he was puzzling his brain to under- stand how it had all come about when, to his astonishment, he heard himself hailed in tones which he instantly identified, and in the tongue of the Shawanoes. " Wal, Sime, we got the best of you that time." The renegade felt that the occasion called for considerable forcible language, which he used in demanding further explanation from his old acquaintance. " That chap you had the talk with awhile ago was me," replied Kenton. " I used an- other voice, for I was laying low." " Wal, you did play it on me fine, Kenton. THE TOECH. 155 It's the worst trick I ever had worked on me," replied the renegade, who now compre- hended it all. " I don't s'pose thar's any need of asking you why you done it, but it doesn't beat the trick one of our men played after he got aboard of your boat." " But it beat the way The Panther man- aged things." " AVhat's the matter with The Panther?" " This is the boat the Ashbridges are on ; there are others beside 'em ; we're strong 'nough to lick a company twice as big as yours. I'm talking with a single tongue now, Sime ; I seed your canoe leave the other side of the flatboat, and knowed what was up. I kept the rest of the folks out of sight, and waited for The Panther and the warrior with him." " I haven't heerd any gun fired, so I reckon The Panther's all right." " There's where you're mistook ; we've got him here, tied hand and foot." " Is that honest, Sime ?" " As true as Gospel." " I s'pose you'll lift his ha'r and send him under." 156 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " Not while he's a prisoner ; I'll give him a chance, and then it'll be him or me." " I pity him," was the complimentary re- mark of the renegade ; " but don't forgit, Kenton, that he'll fight like the devil." '' That suits me ; it'll make things powerful interesting." " Why are you speaking in Shawanoe ?" " 'Cause I don't want my friends to under- stand what we say." "Why not?" " I want to give you warning ; we're com- ing over in a few minutes, in our canoe, to attack you ; they're detarmined, and I can't make any good excuse agin it." " 'Spose we stay and fight it out ?" " It'll be bad for you ; take my advice and leave." " How soon are you comin' ?" '' Inside of five minutes ; I'm doing this, Sime, 'cause of the favor you once done me ; don't wait, go at once." "I'll be gone when you arrive." " What about the varmints with you ?" " Thar's only two ; they'll go with me." THE TORCH. 157 "You're showing good sense, for it's all that will save you." This, in substance, is what passed between Kenton and Girty just before the canoe left the side of the flatboat with three fully armed men to assail the party that had ex- terminated the McDougall family. The reason why the Shawanoe tongue was used is apparent to the reader. Nothing in the manner of the ranger, however, indicated the harmless double deal- ing on his part. He handled the paddle with noiseless skill, and warned his companions to be silent and on the alert. "We've got a powerful advantage," he whispered, " 'cause they won't be looking for nothing of the kind ; nevertheless and how- sumever, I'll paddle down stream and come round by the bow, where they won't be so likely to obsarve us." He carried out this plan. "Without ap- proaching the flatboat, he sent the canoe skimming with the current until so far below the big craft that it was barely discernible through the gloom. Then, with the same 158 SHOD WITH SILENCE. caution, lie turned and paddled straight for the boat of their enemies. " I'll lead the way over the side if all's clear," he added, checking the canoe under the sloping stern. " There don't seem to be any one on the watch, but wait till I give the word. If we git on board without them seeing us, we've got 'em." Ashbridge and Altman followed instruc- tions in spirit and letter. Firmly grasping their rifles, they sat motionless in the small boat and watched their guide, who stepped from it so deftly as to cause no perceptible jar. Then he silently vanished. This brought the trying moment. The waiting friends expected each second to hear the sounds of furious conflict, and held them- selves ready to rush to the help of their guide, but everything remained still. Although Kenton knew what to expect, since he was aware of what had taken place, he moved about the boat as one moves who is *' shod with silence." He went from end to end, peered everywhere, and left unexamined no place that could have sheltered a cat. THE TOECH. 159 Returning to the stern, he leaned over and spoke in an undertone : " Every one of 'em has gone !" " Confound the luck !" exclaimed Altman, stepping out of the smaller into the larger craft. " That's too bad." " Are you certain there's no mistake about it?" asked Ashbridge. "Not a bit of it; the boat is ours, for there's nobody to fire a gun or strike a blow." Not doubting for a moment the word of the scout, the two passed from stem to stern, as a person repeatedly searches the same spot for a lost article. •'Now what do you want to do?" asked Kenton, when they returned to where he had seated himself. " There is nothing to do but to go back to our own boat." " That's all true, but what do you want to do with this boat ? It has some lumber in it that'll come powerful handy when you build t'other house, as I reckon you mean to do for Mr. Altman and his folks." 160 SHOD WITH SILENCE. There was force in the remark of the scout. The lumber composing the fiathoats of the settlers and pioneers who floated down the Ohio possessed great value to them, and was scrupulously preserved. It was the intention of the little company to erect a separate building for the Altmans as soon as it could be done, and the two craft would yield enough material to lessen that work to a considerable degree. " One of us can stay aboard," said Ash- bridge, "and he will have no trouble in working the boat." " Not unless Mr. Girty and some of his friends take a notion to make a call." " In which event the one in charge can do just as he has done." " Provided you have the chance to do so. What do you think of it, Kenton ?" " There's not much danger of your being bothered by the varmints ; we're too close and the clearing isn't far off; besides, we won't start afore daylight." So the matter seemed settled. The ar- rangement specified was about to be car: THE TOECH. 161 ried out wlien Ashbridge turned to the guide and asked : " Are you convinced tliat none of the Mc- Dougalls escaped ?" " Not one of 'em is alive," replied Kenton, with a shake of his head. " They might have been made prisoners — that is some of them — and carried away." " I wish I could think so, but I know the varmints took no prisoners here." '' Pardon me, Kenton, for wondering how it is you can be absolutely sure on that point." The hunter looked steadily at the other for a moment without speaking. In the faint moonlight Ashbridge felt that those wonderful blue eyes were fixed upon him with piercing power. When Kenton spoke his words were hardly above a whisper, but they were as clear as the notes of a bugle. " I've seen the 'sign.' " "^\Tiere?" "Here on this flatboat — everywhere; haven't you seed it ?" "No," replied Ashbridge, suspecting the 11 162 SHOD WITH SILENCE. fearful meaning of the words just spoken ; " w^ere all killed on the boat ?" "Every one of 'em," was the impressive reply ; " when I was looking through afore, I told you how it was I sarched for ' signs.' They was everywhere, as I said ; there didn't one of the four git away ; I thought mebbe they would sjDare the little girl and wife, but they were killed, scalped and flung overboard by Girty and the varmints." No need for Kenton to explain further. Despite the gloom, he had noted the plenti- ful evidences of the tragedy, so overwhelm- ing in their nature that not a shadow of doubt could remain. " I want to leave this boat without a min- ute's delay," said Altman, with a shudder; "it's haunted by my friends; I wouldn't tarry for the world, and could never sleep a wink in a house containing one stick of this timber; I shiver now when I reflect upon what has taken place here." " I share your feelings," added Ashbridge ; " we wan't nothing more to do with this craft, Kenton." THE TORCH. 163 Tlie ranger looked at them again, af? if in doubt of their real thoughts. Then he said : " We don't want to leave it for Girty and the varmints, for when they find we've left, and there's no risk about it, they'll be back on the craft and do what they can to trap others." " How can we prevent that ?" "Easy enough ; burn the flatboat." "The right thing to do ! It will be an ap- propriate ending to its career," assented Alt- man ; " these timbers are dry enough to catch and burn readily." " No trouble 'bout that," said Kenton. The savages who captured the craft had left hardly a shred or splinter of the boxes and luggage that were on board, but it was easy to gather enough to form a pile of combusti- bles near the cabin at the rear. This was carefully arranged by the scout, who pro- duced his flint, steel and tinder, the only means of ignition known in those days. The streaming sparks shot from the quick contact of stone and metal quickly caught; 164 SHOD WITH SILENCE. the flame began creeping tlirougli the 2^ile, fanned by the breath of the scout, and a few minutes later the flatboat, the scene of the woful tragedy, was doomed. THE WHITE CEOSS. 165 CHAPTER XV. THE WHITE CEOSS. FEOM tlie time the tliree men left one flat- boat to paddle to the other, fully twenty minutes elapsed. During that period the only persons awake on the last were The Panther, young George Ashbridge, and Agnes Altman. It has been said, that when the women and children withdrew to the cabin, after the start- ling occurrence in which Jethro Juggens bore so prominent a part, all sank into slum- ber. Such was the fact, but a burden op- pressed the heart of Agnes which disturbed not- the others. The last sight of the captive showed him sitting near the cabin, with his back against the heavy planking of the side, and his feet partly extended and touching one of the heavy boxes in front. 166 SHOD WITH SILENCE. His hands were fastened behind his back, causing him to lean slightly over, and his head was bowed. He was the picture of despair. Not a word escaped him, nor did he move a muscle. Had he been carved in stone he could not have been more mute and motionless. The sight so troubled the girl, that before she had slept ten minutes her eyes opened, with her thoughts still upon the hapless cap- tive. She had been told that The Panther was a cruel warrior, whose hands were deeply stained with the blood of innocent people ; that he had slain mothers and babes, and was on an errand of murder when he fell into the trap set for him. All this, and doubtless much more, was true, but it could not extinguish the sym- pathy that moved her to rise on one elbow and peer through the entrance to the cabin. Upon lying down the second time she had not removed her clothing, and in the small space she knew how to move about without disturbing any of the friends near her. THE WHITE CROSS. 167 Peeping out, Agnes saw the Shawanoe hardly two yards distant, just as she had seen him after bidding the others good-night. Al- though she had been asleep but a few min- utes, the time seemed much longer, as is the case with all of us when roused under similar circumstances. *' Poor man," murmured the girl, " he has been sitting that way for an hour or more ; his heart is broken." The moon was near the zenith. In climb- ing the sky it had shaken aside the obscur- ing clouds, so that it shone down with the full power of its dimness upon forest, river, and flatboat. It fell upon the head of the terrible chieftain of the Shawanoes as he sat bowed in silent desolation. The Panther, unlike his companion, had not been in the water. He had paddled to the side of the larger craft and come over the side in regulation style. So it was that his garments were dry, and the eagle feathers in his hair unmoistened. The Shawanoe possessed more natural cov- ering for his head than most of his people. 168 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Three colored feathers were thrust among the labyrinths on his crown and pointed upward, as though winging the arrows that had been launched by some celestial archer. A few of the coarse black locks were looped and dangled on his shoulders, but most of them rested on his breast, one strand reaching to his waist. The left shoulder, the nearest to the peering Agnes, divided a heavy lock, so that one-half lay in front and the other back of the shoulder. Agnes noted in the moonlight the double row of bears' claws encircling the neck, the fringe of deerskin below, the girdle at the waist, in which had reposed the frightful knife and tomahawk (for the Indian carried his hunting-knife differently from the white man), the arm bare to the shoulder, and dis- closing slight muscular development (the American race being notably deficient in that respect), the skirt similar to that worn by Kenton, the leggings and their fringes, and the moccasins ornamented with many-colored beads. All these she had observed before, and gave them only a glance. THE WHITE CROSS. 169 It was upon the head and face of the fallen chieftain that she fixed her attention. The hair, flung forward, shut most of the features from sight, but between the fringe of dangling locks the moonlight disclosed the outlines of the forehead and large nose, the rest being veiled by the interposing hair. In the centre of the forehead the chieftain had made a rude cross with white paint. All below was stained of a different color, and could not be clearly seen. The pale rays encircled the upper part of the Shawanoe's face as with a halo, and im- parted a beautiful significance to the emblem, whose full meaning had never penetrated his brain. The two white lines, intersecting each other, had probably been traced by the coppery finger, as had the other crude figures, invisi- ble in the faint illumination, but to the awed Agnes it seemed as if the hand of heaven had intended the cross as a call to mercy, grace and forgiveness. The fierce words of Kenton led her to fear he intended to put The Panther to death in 170 SHOD WITH SILENCE. punishment for his manifold dark deeds. Should it not be hers to interpose and do the will of one whose forgiving kindness is infinite? Something gleamed through the tangled wealth of coarse black hair. The Panther had not turned his head, but he knew the girl was studying him. Glancing sideways, he fixed his serpent eyes on her, for, with the strange subtlety of his race, he caught the meaning of that pity- ing stare from the door of the cabin. He was a past master in the cunning of his people. Still rigid, motionless and mute, he heaved a sigh, which spoke more eloquently than words of his woe and desj^air. This touching confession of grief fixed the course of Ao-nes Altman. Without shifting; her p>osition in the slightest, she reached her right hand backward and to one side to the oblong box in which the knives, forks and spoons of the emigrants were kept when not in use. Was it not the gentle directing power of heaven that caused her fingers to rest at the THE WHITE CEOSS. 171 first groping upon the horn handle of a keen- edged knife, employed in carving meat ? It was a formidable implement, and nothing could have served her purpose better. She hesitated. Where were Kenton, her father, Mr. Ashbridge and George ? The heavy breathing near at hand revealed where Jethro lay unconscious, but for the moment she could not account for the absence of the others. It must be that, wearied with the loss of sleep and with the turmoil, they, too, had laid down to rest. " If I set him free, what will he do ?" was the query which checked Agnes after she had partly left the cabin. Surely, he could do nothing except to let himself over the side of the boat and silently swim away. Perhaps, if her friends learned what she had done, they would chide her, but she could well afford to bear their temporary dis- pleasure for the sake of the life of even a wicked man. Possibly, if spared, divine mercy would 172 SHOD WITH SILENCE. bring the Shawanoe to repent of liis misdeeds and find that favor which is never refused the truly sorrowful. But, if all the rest were asleep, how could they learn what she had done ? Surely, The Panther would lose no time in seeking his own safety. His captors would believe that, in some way, he had removed his bonds and worked himself over the gunwale, and had either drowned or floated oflP to safety. Again the cunning chieftain heaved a sigh. Not once were his piercing eyes removed from the willowy figure that now emerged from the shelter and slowly advanced in a crouching posture toward him. He read the working of the maiden's brain as plainly as if they w^ere translated into his own tongue. When barely a couple of feet separated them, The Panther suddenly turned his coun- tenance toward her. It was as if he had been awakened, not by any rustling sound, for there was none, but by that unexplainable intuition which often warns one person of the presence of another. THE WHITE CROSS. 173 Agnes started at the knowledge that the Indian was looking at her. For one moment she was on the point of withdrawing into the cabin. She would have done so, frightened by her own pur^^ose. That hesitation, even, was in- stantly comprehended by The Panther, who knew the critical moment had come. Bending his body slightly forward, he shifted the hands, bound at the wrist, to the left, so as to bring them from behind his back and into the sight of the girl. "Hurt — hurt," he whispered; "good pale- face cut, Wa-on-mon feel bad; cut, good pale-face ; AYa-on-mon feel good." No more effective appeal could have been made to Agnes, but she was a-tremble and frightened over what she had set out to do. Holding the sharp knife in her right hand and raising her left, she uttered a warning : "Sh!" Strange act for a maiden to admonish a veteran chieftain to remain silent, but he nodded his head to signify he understood and would obey. 174 SHOD WITH SILENCE. His face, now turned toward her, was fully revealed in the moonlight. She noted the white cross that had awakened singular emo- tions in her heart, and the darker tracings were dimly shown on nose, cheek and chin, all framed on the border of luxuriant, black, coarse, dangling hair. Agnes saw these, but from and through the wealth of hideousness, one emblem shone out as if with a beneficent light of its own ; it was the white cross in the middle of the dusky forehead. Its mute but forceful appeal could not pass unheeded. She was now certain that no one was awake on board beside herself and The Panther. Her tumult of emotion prevented her reason- ing very clearly, or she would have known that such a condition of affairs was impossible. "Wa-on-mon feel bad — much hurt," whis- pered the Shawanoe, fearing that she would draw back when on the threshold of action. It was a truly feminine instinct that led Agnes, even while reaching her trembling hand forward, to whisper in lower tones than those of the Indian : THE WHITE CROSS. 175 "Wa-on-mon, you will not tell what I do?" The grim painted face shook quickly from side to side, flinging the enveloping hair over it in front, but it instantly settled about the shoulders again. "No, no, no. Wa-on-mon no tell; good girl — much good girl." The extended hand that had trembled so much as to threaten the success of what Agnes had in mind became as rigid as iron. The bright blade, recently sharpened, gleamed in the moonlight, and the razor-like edge was held poised over the hempen thongs that in- closed and held the wrists together. A brief downward cut, a slight drawing back and forth, during which she took care not to hurt him, and the cord fell apart. The hands of the captive were freed. The maiden glanced at the thongs which were tightly w^rapped about the ankles. Her work remained unfinished until they were severed. " Much good girl ; Wa-on-mon he cut dem." And before she divined his purpose he 176 SHOD WITH SILENCE. drew tlie knife from her hand and liberated himself. The Panther was now without the slightest impediment to free movement, except, per- haps, the slight cramping resulting from the long constrained posture. Holding the weapon in his grasp, the Shaw- anoe sat motionless for a few seconds, with his basilisk eyes fixed upon her who had thus given him his liberty. Whether it was gratitude that inspired the burning glow or the consuming hatred of a demon that led him to meditate striking the one fearful blow that would end all, let us seek not to know, for to know of a certainty we cannot. AVith no suspicion of his possible thoughts, Agnes moved silently back to the door of the cabin, and was on the point of entering, happy in the reflection of the merciful act she had just performed, when she recalled that The Panther still possessed the knife, for which he had no further use. " How shall I explain its disappearance if he takes it away ?" she asked herself. THE WHITE CROSS. 177 Turning about, she approached him again and whispered : " Let me have the knife, Wa-on-mon ; it is not mine." " Soon bring it back," he replied, retaining his hold upon the implement. She was disappointed, but entered the cabin so gently as not to awaken any of her friends. The Panther gazed after her for a few sec- onds. Then his frightful countenance glowed with a baleful light, for he had decided to postpone his flight from the boat until he should wreak full vengeance upon certain parties that had treated him ill. He set out in quest of Jethro Juggens and George Ashbridge, and the path to both was open before him. 12 178 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XVI. THE CHEEPING SHADOW. INASMUCH as the conversation between Kenton and Girty was in the Shawanoe tongue, every word was understood by The Panther, though unsuspected by the white people on the flatboat. The prisoner^ therefore, knew the meaning of the canoe's departure with its three occu- pants, and foresaw the issue as clearly as did the ranger himself. He comprehended, also, the situation in which he was left. The women and children were asleep, as was the negro against whom he nursed a venomous hatred, because of the savage handling received from him. The only person awake was young Ash- bridge, who sat down on a box near him, as if with the purpose of keeping watch upon his captive. Had the youth continued this THE CREEPING SHADOW. 179 vigilance, that which followed could never have taken place. But the youth was in a fever of nervous- ness over the result of the expedition to the other boat for the purpose of punishing Girty and the Shawanoes. He keenly felt his dis- appointment at being left behind, but there was no help for it. Glancing at the bowed and rigid form of The Panther, Ashbridge reflected : " Kenton knows how to tie a knot ; The Panther can't work his hands and feet free in a week ; he might push himself over the gun- wale and fall into the water ; tied and bound as he is, he would probably be able to keep afloat, for I have done it myself without moving a limb, but he knows I would hear the splash, and would shoot him before he could get away." This train of thought ended in the conclu- sion that it was not necessary to mount guard over the prisoner, so the youth walked to the extreme end of the boat, which pointed slightly toward the Ohio shore, and consequently in the direction of the other craft. 180 SHOD WITH SILENCE. There be kept the standing posture, with rifle in hand, leaning lightly on the sweep, and gave his attention to the movements of his friends and the result of their enterprise. He followed with his eye the shadowy ca- noe until it was absorbed in the gloom. Cal- culating to a minute the time required to reach the craft, his anxiety became painfully intense. Thus he failed to take note of what was passing immediately around him. It is hard to imagine the exultation that filled the heart of The Panther when he found himself not only free from his bonds, but with a deadly weapon in his grasp. In addition, he had a full comprehension of the situation in which he was placed. Had this dreaded Shawanoe and enemy of the white man followed the simple dictates of jDrudence, nothing would have prevented his escape. He could have slipped over the side or stern of the boat, where the youth would not have observed or heard him, and swam away at his leisure. But to do that was to fling aside the sweet opportunity of vengeance upon the people THE CREEPING SHADOW. 181 asrainst ■whom lie had sworn undvins; hatred and a merciless war to the end. The negro (whom all Indians seem instinctively to de- test) was unconscious, hardly a dozen feet from wliere the chieftain was crouching. He could not leave Jethro alive after the mortal indig- nity suffered at his hands. The height of pleasure would have been to torture him at the stake. Since that, how- ever, was impracticable, the knife must do the deed. Peering over the obstruction in front, The Panther saw young Ashbridge standing at the prow, gazing through the dim moonlight at the other boat, and as unconscious of what was going on near him as if in the depth of the wilderness. His side was turned toward the Shawanoe, who must needs steal across the craft and approach his victim from the rear. A single mental debate held the chief- tain motionless ; it was whether Jethro Jug- gens should receive the knife before or after George Ashbridge. The former plan was the easier, since the 182 SHOD WITH SILENCE. African lay within reach, while the white youth was some distance off. A cou23le of steps forward, a quick downward drive, and it would be all over with Jethro. But if that were done, a slight noise, prob- ably an outcry, would follow. The other would be instantly warned. He had a loaded rifle in his grasp, and would use it before The Panther could reach him. No, the risk was too great. Ashbridge must be the first victim. Meanwhile, the dusky youth could not escape him. Like a creeping shadow, the Shawanoe stepped carefully beside the form of the dusky sleeper. He spared him when he was at his mercy because the right moment had not come to strike. "Shod with silence," as may be said, he emerged at the rear of the piles of boxes close to the other side of the boat behind the statue-like form of the youth at the bow. He was not immediately to the rear of him, but in what may be termed a three-quarter direction. Nevertheless, it would serve his purpose equally well. THE CREEPING SHADOW. 183 First, the left moccasin was thrust forward and the weight of the chieftain followed. Then the right foot did the same, and his body was advanced. No more than four yards' space lay between the two. Another step and still another, and the distance would be reduced one-half Still, George Ashbridge stirred not, and seemed scarcely to breathe in his profound absorption of mind and anxiety for his friends. The Panther was standing with his left foot advanced and his body poised on both limbs. The right hand rigidly grasped the knife at the hi]), the arm slightly bent at the elbow, and the muscles set for the terrific blow that was to end all. He had now but to make a single leap to clear the space and bring down the weapon with vicious and re- sistless force. At this moment a bright light flashed from the rear of the other flatboat. The flame spread fast and wrapped the cabin in its glare. Kenton had applied the torch, and the craft was on fire. 184 SHOD WITH SILENCE. The sight was so striking, so unexpected and so strange that The Panther drew his gaze from his victim, relaxed his vise-like grip on the handle of his knife and turned his head to learn the meaning of what had burst upon his vision. Still George Ashbridge saw nothing of that dark figure stealing forward and almost upon him. His .attention was riveted more in- tensely than ever upon the other flatboat. And The Panther, secure of his prey, also saw, and dreamed naught of an equally noise- less form that was close behind him. Agnes Altman had returned to the cabin, serenely happy in the belief that she had saved a man, even though unworthy, from death. Lying down, she murmured : " I think I have done right ; if not, God will forgive me." But she was in that mood of nervous inten- sity that sleep was impossible. Suddenly a pang of doubt pierced her mind. Had she done right ? Had she not com- mitted a blunder that would bring sorrow and death to her beloved ones ? THE CREEPING SHADOW. 185 The remembrance that The Panther had persisted in keeping the knife after freeing himself caused her an increasing misgiying. " He does not climb over the side of the boat," she reflected, peeping out at the crouch- ing figure; "he hesitates, he cannot shrink from the venture ; the way is open ; what does it mean ? Oh, heaven !" She saw him pass -from sight between the boxes on his way to slay young Ashbridge. Then she read his awful purpose ; he meant to slay those that had despitefully used him. Agnes emerged from the cabin and crossed in absolute silence to the other side, thus taking a course parallel to that of the Indian. Moving slightly faster than he, because the way was more open, she came out only a few paces behind him. Had The Panther cast a single glance over his shoulder, he would have seen the pale- faced, crouching maiden advancing like a phantom at his heels ; but what possible thought could come to him of such a thing ? All his imaginings were of the sweet re- venge now within his reach. 186 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Agnes saw, too, the figure of the youth, one arm lightly supported on the long sweep, the other hand gently clasping the barrel of his rifle, whose stock rested on the floor at his feet. She knew the miscreant was making for him with the frightful knife in hand — the one she had brought forth and used to sever the thongs at his wrists. She was in that state of mental exaltation when one crosses the boundary of misgiving and nervousness and becomes as cool, as col- lected, as set of purpose as a man of iron. There was no tremor of nerve or limb. George Ashbridge, The Panther and Agnes were equidistant when the Shawanoe paused, and for the moment turned his attention from the victim to the blaze on the other boat. He stood still, but the maiden did not. One tiny foot was thrust forward, resting like that of a fawn on the planking, and then the second followed. Once more and she stood directly behind the Shawanoe, in whose black heart raged the flames of hatred and vengeance. THE CREEPING SHADOW. 187 He paused, with grip relaxed, and stared across the water, which reflected the increas- ing glare. A few pulse-beats more and the muscles would become rigid again, and with one bound he would crash down upon the head and shoulders of the youth like an ava- lanche. Agnes Altman could touch the chieftain in front of her. Stooping slightly, she reached her right hand forward, closed her dainty fingers around the handle of the knife just below where The Panther loosely grasped it, and with marvellous deftness whipped it free and flung it behind her, the implement falling with a ringing sound in front of the cabin. At the same instant she called : " George, George ; the Indian means to kill you!" The youth whirled like a flash, but, quick as he was. The Panther was quicker. With no weapon to use, his only thought was to save himself. Comprehending this astonishing trick that 188 SHOD WITH SILENCE. was played on him, he would have stricken down Agnes without any weapon had he dared to pause to do so ; but intent only on flight, he dashed for the rear of the boat, in- tending to leap overboard from the furtherest point, so as to disconcert the aim of the youth who was desperately seeking him. Ashbridge darted forward, meaning to fire the instant he caught sight of the redskin, who, instead of taking a direct line or plung- ing over, when the chance was his, dodged and dashed back over the course taken a moment before. Then it came about that by one of those strange coincidences which now and then take place in the affairs of this life. The Panther, with no time to measure his pace or to note where he placed his feet, stepped upon the stomach of Jetliro Juggens with a force that drove the breath from his body. Instinctively, the startled African threw up his arms to protect himself, and, by a move- ment purely involuntary, seized the ankle of the offending foot. " I'll be hanged to gracious !" he called THE CEEEPING SHADOW. 189 out, grasping the situation quicker than usual with him, '' if dat painted heathen ain't trying to put his foot in my mouf agin ! Dis am gettin' to obstraneous to be put up wid any longer !" 190 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XVII. "delays are dangerous." IT certainly was a curious coincidence that The Panther, in his furious effort to elude the young pioneer, who was at his heels with loaded rifle, should place his foot upon the sleeping Jethro Juggens with an emphasis that drove the breath from his body. Had it been the first time the dusky youth was disturbed in that aggravating manner his anger would have been justified, but since it was the second outrage of that nature his wrath was boundless. " I know yo' aimed for my mouf wid your foot," he called, "and missed it by de most narrerest chance ever knowed." The throwing out of the arms may have been instinctive, but when one hand closed around the ankle of the fleeing Shawanoe the African held on with a grip of steel. He meant that that business should be "DELAYS ARE DANGEROUS." 191 stopped SO summarily that another repetition would be among the impossibilities. Several furious wrenches failing to release the imprisoned member, The Panther whirled and struck the negro, who was gradually struggling to his feet. Although the blow landed, it effected nothing, for it was stopped by Jethro's skull. A kick with his free foot was no more successful in freeing the fugitive. " No use ! I've got yo' dis time, suah !" It is awkward for a man to make use of one foot when the other is off the ground. Despite the dexterity of the Shawanoe, he fell beside Jethro, and was thus placed more helplessly in his power. It took George Ashbridge but a second or two to dash upon the scene. He much pre- ferred capturing to shooting The Panther, and, seeing that an obstacle had checked his flight, he passed his rifle to Agnes, now at his side. "Keep that," he exclaimed, "and if I call to you, shoot the Indian." " I will," she replied, accepting the weapon. 1P2 SHOD WITH SILENCE. She meant what she said, too, for the revela- tion of the chieftain's purpose had wrought a change in her feelings. Instead of succumb- ing to the mental strain, she was as brave and strong as ever. " De idee ob tryin' to shove bofe feet in a gemman's mouf am too conspecuous to be allowed!" added Jethro, his indignation reaching the boiling point. "I'll teach yo' dat if yo' can play dat low down bus'ness on some folks, yo' can't on me, which my name am Jethro Juggens. Take dat !" And he let fly with his brawny fist, throw- ing his whole force in the blow. Had it landed it must have been effective, but the combatants were struggling in a gloom made deeper because the boxes immediately sur- rounding them shut out most of the moon- light. Instead of colliding with the bronzed skull, Jethro crushed his knuckles against the boards just above the crown of the Indian at whom he aimed. " Gorrynation, but your head am tough !" muttered the youth, unconscious for the mo- '• DELAYS ARE DANGEROUS." 193 meiit of his mistake, though he felt the stun- ning effects of the failure of his aim. " I'll try anoder !" ''A^^iat are you doing?" thundered Ash- bridge, as he received the blow on his shoul- der. " Tryin' to smash dis heathen ; I've purty near done it, and dis one'U finish him." "Don't strike again!" shouted the other, who knew the force with which Jethro could drive a blow ; " the next time you'll hit Agnes." It was the incessant movement and the in- imitable dexterity of the Shawanoe which saved him from these unpleasant attentions. He had ceased to fight now, and strove with his utmost strength to wrench loose before his 2)osition became hoj^eless. It is certain that if the two had been left alone The Panther would have succeeded in freeing himself, desjDite the superior strength of the African, but George Ashbridge speedily became a factor in the business. The youth received a thrilling shock when Agnes Altman warned him of his peril. 13 194 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Turning on the instant, he caught a glimpse of the skurrying Shawanoe, but retained his coolness, and his sight of the struggling bodies was sufficient to identify them. He flung himself upon The Panther, and bore him backward in spite of his furious r.esistance. " Leave him to me," he called to Jethro the instant his hold was secure ; " I'll man- age him." " Be mighty keerful, Marse George, or he'll get bofe feet in your mouf ; dat's what he tried to do wid me." " Bring me the rope and help me tie him again ; I can master him." The Panther was flat on his back, with the youth astride of his breast. Though the position was favorable to the latter and unfa- vorable to the former, the latter did not cease his struggling. During; these few moments the heart of the prostrate warrior must have been gnawed with chagrin at the thought of his hairbreadth failure to carry out his scheme of revenge. It was impossible to come any nearer and yet fail of accomplishment. "DELAYS ARE DANGEEOUS." 195 " If dar's any sliootin' to be done," said Jetbro, rising to bis feet and addressing Ag- nes, " better let me doot." " Do notbing of tbe kind," warned Asb- bridge ; " be'll be certain to sboot me." " Most likely I would; least^¥aYS I'd be sar- tin to bit one ob yo', wbicb am better dan missin' bofe." Knowing wbere tbe prisoner bad sat after bis first binding, tbe African burried across tbe brief distance to tbat spot. Tbe moonligbt sbowed bim tbe coils lying wbere tbey dropped wben severed by tbe knife. He picked up tbe pieces and surveyed tbem in astonisbment. " Hain't dat beatben got sbarp teetb to cbaw 'em off dat way ?" be mused. " Hello ! Somebody bas sot de riber on fire !" In tbe struggle witb the prisoner, Jetbro bad not noticed tbe burning flatboat, but tbe glare tbat now spread over tbe Obio and was reflected on botb shores, filled him with amaze- ment and awe. He forgot for the moment the errand that brought him thither, and gazed upon the im- pressive scene. 196 SHOD WITH SILENCE. The craft was wrapped in flames from stem to stern. The fire had burned the rope hold- ing the anchor, and the released craft began slowly moving with the current. The glow lit up the calm surface of the river, w^hile the limbs, trees, and leaves on both shores stood out bold and clear in the yellow illumination reflected against the heavens. Once more the women were aroused, though not curiously, perhaps, little Mabel Ash- bridge continued sleeping as serenely as if on her mother's bosom. The women pushed their way to the side of Jethro Juggens, who, with the pieces of rope in his hand, was staring with open mouth at the burning flatboat. " What is the meaning of that ?" asked Mrs. Altman. " Guess somebody has upsot de stove try in' to warm hisself." But across this sea of illumination the ca- noe containing the three men was seen as plainly as if at mid-day. Their appearance suggested the truth to Mrs. Ashbridge. "DELAYS AEE DANGEROUS." 197 " Kenton has paddled tliem over to tlie flat- boat, which they have burned." " But what has become of those tliat were on it ?" asked Mrs. Altman. " All burned up," was the prompt infor- mation of Jethro. " I heered 'em yellin' and begsin to be let off, but Kenton told 'em it w^arn't no use, dey would hab to go." " What are you doing with those pieces of rope, Jethro ? Where is that Indian that was bound ? What has become of Agnes ?" were the startled questions of the girl's mother. " Jethro !" called young Ashbridge, " wdiat keeps you so long ?" " Dar ! I knowed I'd forgot sumfin' ! I'll be dar, Marse George." And he scrambled over the luggage to where the others w^ere awaiting him. The youth w^as quick to note that the rope had been cut. Naturally, he had been won- dering how the captive not only released him- self but secured an effective weapon. The severed thongs, and the presence of Agnes at the critical moment, explained mat- ters, but he made no comment. 198 SHOD WITH SILENCE. The pieces being much shorter increased the difficulty of tying The Panther, a difficulty made greater by the vicious struggles of the Shawanoe to twist himself free. " Marse George, shan't I sot on him to hold him still ? You know I's heavy." " Try to keep his legs still until I fasten his hands." Exerting all his strength, young Ashbridge speedily secured the wrists of The Panther behind his back. Then he gave his attention to the lower limbs. Meanwhile Jethro had carried out his de- sign of sitting down on the feet of the prisoner. It gave to the latter his only chance toward a partial payment of the score between them. "I've got him fast!" called Jethro, when he felt the two moccasins beneath him. " I'm sottin' down heavier dan eber afore, and de heathen can't breav — " Both feet were jerked from under the Afri- can, and the legs straightened out with the suddenness of lightning. As they did so, the moccasins struck Jethro's head like a couple of piston rods. "DELAYS AEE DANGEROUS." 100 He would have been hurled overboard but for the planking which interposed to check him. As it was, he turned one somersault and part of another, stopping when his head was beneath his body, and his legs over the gun- wale, with his feet nearly touching the surface of the water. He narrowly missed Agnes in his involun- tary flight, and was so stunned that several seconds passed before he was able to extricate himself Brief as was the interval, it was sufficient for several things to happen. The Panther attempted the same thing against young Ashbridge, but the youth was a more skilful wrestler than the negro, and quickly placed the nimble legs beyond the power of further mischief. If the knots were tied closer than before, and there were more of them, it was because the increased pieces, their shortness, and the resistance of the prisoner called for extra pre- caution. " There, I think he will stay awhile," re- marked Ashbridge, rising to his feet and 200 SHOD WITH SILENCE. stepping beside Agnes. "Thank you for taking care of my gun. I'll relieve you of it." " George, can you forgive me for cutting the cords which bound him ?" asked the girl, in a voice dreadfully close to a cry. " Yes, provided you don't do it again." " I felt sorry for him, and then I never dreamed he would act as he did." " No harm has been done, and you saved my life by your warning ; so we'll call the account square, and say no more about it." " Thank you, George ; it seems to me that the last few minutes have been unreal ; I can hardly realize what has taken place ; and how strange to see the other boat burning and the river as light as day." " Yes ; your father and mine went over with Kenton to punish the Indians ; but they must have left, and as the only thing our folks could do, they set fire to the flatboat. But where is Jethro ?" "Dat's what I'm tryin' to find out," re- plied the individual referred to, who, having recovered his feet, was gradually rallying from "DELAYS ARE DANGEROUS." 201 the dazed condition into which he had been thrown by his rough treatment. *' In de fust place, am I Jethro Juggens or am I dat heathen what ain't me ?" he asked, staring at the young man in front of him. " You are Jethro," replied Alice, quick to pity, and too much agitated by the recent oc- currences to see any humor in the situation. " Tanks, if dar's no doubt about it ; did dat heathen kick me wid his feet or wid his head ?" " It looked as if he used his feet," said Agnes, gravely. "I guess dat's de fac'. How many feet did he hab ? I counted seben, but when he landed 'em on de side ob my head, dar war anoder. I's feard I split de planks whar I struck 'em, and will sot de boat leakin'." " I hope you were not hurt, Jethro," said Agnes, sympathetically. " Not much ; I feel four or five cracks in my head, but dey don't boder me much. I'll get Mr. Altman to put my head in a wise and squeeze 'em togeder; den I'll be all right, sartin suah." 202 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " There's nothing the matter with you," re- marked young Ashbridge, who naturally held a strong regard for his dusky friend. Stupid he might be in some respects, but he was often wise in others, and would stop at no sacrifice for any of his friends. " What sabed me, Marse George, was strik- ing on my head. As long as I can do dat dar ain't much danger. Hello ! What de mis- chief am gwine on now?" asked the African, catching the arm of his master and pointing toward the Ohio shore. IN THE SWEET LONG AGO. 203 CHAPTER XVIII. IN THE SWEET LONG AGO. JETHRO JUGGENS had gone through so trying an exiDerience that he was ex- cusable for seeing danger when it did not exist. His exclamation at the moment he seized young Ashbridge's arm was caused by the sight of the head and shoulders of a man which appeared over the gunwale on the other side of the flatboat ; but they belonged to Mr. Altman, and were followed immediately by Mr, Ashbridge, and, lastly, by Kenton, who turned and secured the canoe in place. The scout knew that something unusual had occurred on the flatboat during his brief absence, but a glance told him it was without any serious results. As he joined the group, all his friends, with the exception of the sleeping Mabel, gathered round him. 204 SHOD WITH SILENCE. He first told liow he had paddled to the other craft with his companions, meaning to settle accounts with Girty and the Indians, but found they had taken the alarm and fled. Then he looked into the faces of those he left behind for their story. "1 am to blame for it all," bravely spoke up Agnes ; " I could not sleep, for I thought Mr. Kenton meant to kill The Panther, and he looked so worried and sad that I was sorry for him ; so I stole out, and when he reached his hands toward me, why, I cut the thongs that bound him." She paused, on the verge of tears, but was reassured by the kind words of the scout. "It warn't a wise thing to do, gal, as you've learned for yourself, but there's noth- ing in it to your discredit, and it won't be safe for any one to scold you in my hearin'." And he looked around as if challeno-ino: the parents their right in that direction. " Go on, gal ; did you cut the ropes 'round his ankles, too ?" " No," she replied, and added, in her sim- plicity, " he said I needn't take the trouble IN THE SWEET LONG AGO. 205 to do that; then he freed his feet, and wouldn't give me back the knife, but tried to steal up behind George, and Oh, he meant to do him harm." *' I shouldn't wonder if he had some such thoughts," observed Kenton. *' It would have been the last of me but for Agnes," said the youth, with a grateful look at the girl. " How did she prevent it ?" asked the scout. " While The Panther was stealing up be- hind me, she slipped after him and snatched the knife from his hand, calling to me at the same time. I wheeled about, and thus was saved in the nick of time." " Why didn't you shoot the varmint ?" " He dodged among the boxes before I got the chance." "And what next?" "Why de nex' ting," Jethro hastened to say, " war he tried to get bofe feet into my mouf, and when he done dat he shoveled his- self into trouble. Dat steppin' onto my mouf am getting too monototionious and has got to be stopped." 206 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " I am proud of you, my child," said the father, taking his daughter in his arms and kissing her. Then he yiekled her to the mother, who did the same, and then, as might have been expected, Agnes gave way and sobbed as if her heart was broken. A symioathetic silence rested upon all until Kenton spoke. " There won't be any more trouble to-night. This bus'ness is all over till to-morrer, when, maybe, something will hapi^en. Now go to bed, all of you, for you need rest. I'll keep watch till daylight." " Kenton," said young Ashbridge, stepping to his side, " I cannot sleep for some hours ; may I keep 3^our company ?" " I've no objection." "If dar's gwine to be any trouble," said Jetliro, " I would like to ask de favor dat yo' keep dat heathen from boddering me any more." " I'll guarantee you against it," said the youth ; " it looks as if he will stay where he is till we're ready to make a change." " But he may hab some ugly dreams and IN THE SWEET LONG AGO. 207 git to floppin' round and try agin to put liis feet in my mouf ; keep a clus watch, Marse George." Reassured once more, Jetliro Juggens again lay down and was speedily oblivious in slum- ber. The rest disposed themselves as best they could. Now that the strain was removed from the nerves of Agnes Altman, she asked her parents' permission to remain outside until she could fully compose herself. She promised to join her mother as soon as she was in a condition to sleep. Knowing her for a good, obedient daughter, the parents made no objection. A half-hour later they were unconscious. Simon Kenton stopped beside The Panther, and looking down in his face for a moment, without speaking, stooped and examined the ropes. He tightened them in one or two places, and then strode to the front of the boat, where he seated himself, prepared to watch through the remaining hours of the night. The Panther had taken the same posture 208 SHOD WITH SILENCE. as before, with his back against the planking on the right side of the boat, and his feet extended toward one of the boxes in front of him. Not a murmur came from his lips, nor would any be heard, no matter what suffering might be visited upon him. The position of the scout was sufficiently- elevated to give him a view of the river in all directions. With him on guard, no one could feel alarm, for he possessed the secret of keep- ing awake during the tedious hours without any change of position. By this time the other flatboat had burned to the water's edge. Only a big, charred, smoking mass of timbers, from which came a crimson gleam, was visible far down the river, where it slowly drifted out of sight around a bend in the stream. Fit end for the craft that had been the scene of so sad a tragedy. Ag-nes Altman seated herself on one of the boxes, a few paces in front of the cabin, and as far from the silent captive as she could get. The knife, snatched from the Shawanoe's IN THE SWEET LONG AGO. 209 grasp and flung away, bad been picked up by ber fatber and restored to its place. Sbe was beginning to recover from tbe sinking tbat follow^ed tbe release of tbe tension on ber nerves, and sbe decided soon to join ber motber. George Asbbridge noted ber loneliness, and tbougb be longed to go over and place bira- self beside ber, be besitated. Instead, be walked to wbere tbe scout was seated. " Younker," said Kenton, witb a grim smile, " I don't want you." " Wbat do you mean ?" asked tbe youtb, nettled by tbe abrupt words. "Wbat I've said. I don't want you; you've no business bere." " You told me you bad no objection to my keeping you company for awbile." *' Wbicb is true, giner'ly speaking ; but do you obsarve tbat gal yander, by berself ?" " Sbe intends to stay only a few minutes." " Sbe mougbt stay longer if you went over by ber ; take your cb'ice, do tbat or go to bed ; I won't bave you loafing bere wbeu sbe's alone. I look upon tbat gal as tbe bravest 14 210 SHOD WITH SILENCE. and sweetest little creatur' that has ever set out to make her home in Kentucky." " So she is, so she is ; and as good and lov- ing as she is beautiful." " Younker, you heerd what I said ; it's a ch'ice atween going to bed or stepping over and comforting her, and that right off, too." Thus driven to his duty, as may be said, the youth plucked up courage, and, walking the brief space, ventured to take his ])\ace beside the miss, though he took care to main- tain a respectful distance. "How — how do you feel now, Agnes?" he managed to ask, in a tremulous voice. " Much better, thank you — so much so that I think I will join mother." "I wouldn't; that is, I wouldn't be in a hurry about it." " I don't think I am, but why wait longer?" she asked, with that winsome archness and innocent coquetry which come naturally to her sex. " Why, if you feel well because you have stayed out awhile in the open air — why — IX THE SWEET LONG AGO. 211 that is, if you stay a little longer — that is — why, you will be likely to feel a good deal better." "That sounds logical, George, provided I didn't feel as well as I expect to feel." "Sure of that, Agnes?" "Of course I am," she replied, turning roguishly toward him. " It sort of seems to me that you look a little pale — that is, not very pale — but a little so." " Nonsense ! You cannot see my face plainly enough in the moonlight." " There's where you're mistaken ; I can see things very plainly ; can't you see me, Agnes ?" She turned her pretty face as if to test the question of vision before answering him. She held her gaze fixed so long and earnestly that he felt the hot flush stealing to his temples, and he knew his countenance was crimson. " Agnes," he faltered, " don't I look kind of pale." " Do you think you're going to faint ?" " I feel rather queer, but I guess I'll get over it." 212 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " I will catch you if you do ; but, certainly, your face isn't very white. One who has shown such bravery as you ought never to faint." " I haven't been half as brave as you," the impetuous youth was quick to say, greatly relieved to veer away from the perilous sub- ject ; '' why everybody agrees that no girl ever did a braver thing than you when you snatched the knife from The Panther's hand." " There, George, say no more about that," she protested, with a shudder of her shapely shoulders; "I wish I could forget it." " I don't see why you sjiould wish that ; it will be a good many years before you'll hear the last of it. I shouldn't wonder if one of these days, maybe a hundred years from now, some story writer w^ill put it in the papers." " I hope not, for there will be too many better things to tell !" " I wonder if the people will believe that story writer," mused the youth, " if he tells how a girl, not out of her teens, saved the life of George Ashbridge when he forgot to pay attention to what was going on around him. IN THE SWEET LONG AGO. 213 But," was the saving clause, "I guess bis readers will be as ready to believe tbat as tbey will the other things he undertakes to write for them." " And he mustn't forget to say that George Ashbridge wouldn't have been in such danger if Agnes Altman had not been silly enough to cut the thongs about the wrists of an In- dian prisoner and then give him the knife." " That isn't the worst part of the story by any means, for Kenton said it did credit to your heart." " I just warned you to say nothing more of it, and here I am talking away myself, as though there w^as no other subject in the world." " Well, what shall we talk about?" asked the youth, hitching closer to her, and in- stantly hitching back again. "Nothing," was the half-pouting reply. " Of nothing, eh ? What shall we say about nothing ?" "Why nothing, of course." " What an interesting conversation that would be!" observed Ashbridge, recovering 214 SHOD WITH SILENCE. his courage sufficiently to move an inch and a half, or possibly two inches nearer the be- witching creature, and holding that position. "George," she said, turning her lustrous eyes upon him, "I feel a great deal better." " So do I ; I'll be hanged if I don't !" " I feel so well that I will retire," she added, slipping off the seat and facing him; " I must bid you good-night." " But, Agnes, before you go — may I — may I ask a favor ?" " What is it ?" she demanded, still calmly confronting him. " Nothing — O nothing." " It is granted." " Thank you — thank you." '' Good night." She turned to move off, when, in despera- tion, he seized the hem of her homespun dress. " Be quick, then ! I mustn't wait any longer — Oh George !" He had done it. In other words, he had imprinted a kiss upon the peach-like cheek. Perhaps Agnes was half expecting it — possi- IN THE SWEET LONG AGO. 215 bly not. At any rate she whisked out of sight without a word, so that nothing positive can be told of her feelings. And Simon Kenton, who had not lost a word uttered by the unsuspecting lovers, now cleared his throat and said : " Younker, I reckon you'd better say good- night, too." And all this took place a long time ago, but the telling is none the less sweet because of that. 216 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTEE XIX. THE SIGNAL. SIMON KENTON was alone at the front of the flatboat, and it was past mid- night. All his friends were asleej), and he was their human protector while they re- mained unconscious. Little fear of those keen, alert, penetrating eyes closing in slumber before their owner willed they should do so. Not a sign remained of the flatboat to which he had applied the torch, and the same profound stillness brooded over forest and river that he had noted times without number during his journeying to and fro in the almost unsettled AYest. Looking northward toward Ohio, the solemn wilderness stretched away until lost in the obscurity, and it w^as the same in the direction of Kentucky. The moon, far up in the sky, illumined the THE SIGNAL, 217 tranquil stream with its silvery glow, and shed a radiance which rendered it impossible for any one to approach the craft unobserved, unless the sentinel should fall asleep, and that, as we have already said, could not occur. The scout looked up at the gibbous moon and the few twinkling stars. Naturally of a reflective turn of mind, despite his roughness of speech and tbe adventurous life he had led, Simon Kenton's thoughts often took a trend almost unknown to his comrades. "There was a missionary at the block- house last winter, and he told us about One that lives beyond them stars and keeps watch of His creatures down here on the yearth. I know it's so, for my good old mother used to tell me the same thing when I was a younker just larning to talk, and could only kneel at her knee and say my prayers after her." "I've never forgot 'em," added the ranger, with a peculiar thrill of pride; "that is, I haven't forgot the words, and I've said "em over a good many times, though the sarcum- stances weren't always ca'c'lated to compose a 218 SHOD WITH SILENCE. feller's mind, f 'r instance, when a dozen of the varmints were chasing me through the woods and me dodging their bullets. " It's all true, everything they say about Him ; He watches what every one of us does and never forgets it. I hope He doesn't see many things done by Sime Kenton that brings a frown. When I do go under, as all of us has got to do one of these days, I mean that I shan't be afeard to stand up straight when I meet Him, and answer to my name in a loud voice." The training of the ranger would not allow him to forget his surroundings. He felt his responsibility in caring for those on the boat, and though his thoughts took the serious turn noted, he did not lose sight of where he was, and of the peril that was never wholly lifted from him and them. From where he stood he had but to take a single step forward to see The Panther, who held the position already described. It w^ould have been easy to believe the Shawanoe was asleep, but Kenton was not deceived. The keenest scrutiny failed to show any movement THE SIGNAL. 219 or change of position, but for all that his dark brain was busy conjuring up some method of outwitting his captors. " The varmint may shet his eyes, but he sees all the same ; he's as fast on the trail as Deerfoot, and can fight like a catamount when he's a mind to. If I can only fix it," added the scout, with a thrill, " so him and me can meet on the squar' and have it out, where I'll feel it my bounden duty to put in my best licks ; why the amusement will be of the highest natur' that Sime Kenton ever sot eyes on." Although he had examined and tightened the bonds of the prisoner, the scout could not free his mind of a certain misgiving. It seemed unnatural for the chieftain to submit so meekly and hold a motionless posture, as though crushed with despair. The Shawanoe had no warrant to expect mercy from the pio- neers, and ought to fight to the end. " He's hatching mischief," was the conclu- sion of Kenton ; "he isn't goin' to set there and hold his head bent over for many hours, as though inviting some one to come along 220 SHOD WITH SILENCE. and whack him on the crown; Injins ain't got up in that style." Glancing at the bent figure of the prisoner, the scout looked over the faintly illumined river. The Shawanoes knew that one of their leaders was a helpless captive on the flatboat, and they were sure to try some scheme for rescuing or helping him to escape. Far out in the direction of the Kentucky shore the glassy surface of the Ohio showed a widening ripple that could not have been caused by wind, for there was none stirring. The night was sultry, rendering sleej) more comfortable in the ojoen air than in the cabin. It took keen study to detect the gentle dis- turbance, but almost at the moment it came within the field of vision, the ranger noted it. He knew" it meant something. It may be said he was expecting a demonstration of that nature. He did not change his own posture, but fixed his gaze upon the ripples. His wood- craft prevented his neglecting the other ap- proaches to the flatboat. It was not impos- THE SIGNAL. 221 sible* that this was a diversion designed to hold his attention while the real peril approached from another point. He was watching for the appearance of a canoe, but quickly perceived that whatever was coming was in the river itself *' One of the varmints wants to take a look at this craft," was the conclusion of the sen- tinel, on the alert to use his rifle. He meant to send a bullet through the brain of the enemy the moment it came within range, but while awaiting the second to do so, he ob- served the resemblance of the front to that of a bear. This might well be and still belong to the head of an Indian, for, as the reader is aware, a favorite practice of the American race is to deceive a foe by personating animals of the forest. Whoever was swimming from the Ken- tucky to the Ohio shore was not doing it in a line with the flatboat. His course was fifty feet or more below the craft, and the nearer the object approached the more convinced became Kenton that it was what it seemed. 222 SHOD WITH SILENCE. In the first place, that which he saw bore a wonderful resemblance to the head of bruin, and the swimmer's method resembled that of the brute. Again, the scout could not figure out what was to be gained by an Indian playing the part of an animal. The sentinel was certain to penetrate the deception before the war- rior could climb over the side of the boat. Nevertheless, Kenton watched with the ut- most closeness every movement of the un- known. The next discovery was that the latter was SAvimming precisely as a bear swims. If it w^as a warrior in disguise, the counterfeit was the most perfect the ranger had ever seen. The swimmer did not change his course un- til directly below the boat. Then, for the first time, he seemed to observe the motionless craft. His progress became slower, and for a moment Kenton was certain the other intended to swim straight to him. The instant a move was made in that di- rection all doubt of the other's identity would vanish. THE SIGNAL. 223 " The best way to settle this thing is to let him have it between the eyes." He felt no compunctions about solving the problem in that startling manner. The long deadly rifle was brought to the shoulder, and the eye was ranging along the barrel, when the weapon was abruptly lowered again. The creature in the water had given a sniff of affright, turned, and was swimming vigor- ously down stream. The whole was done so naturally that all distrust vanished from Ken- ton's mind ; it was a bear after all, and there was no call to waste a shot on him. The scout watched the head of the brute until he was lost in the direction of the Ohio shore. The animal seemed to have made up his mind to postpone his visit to Ohio to a less dangerous season. Kenton stepped softly forward, and peeped at The Panther. He held the same position with bowed head and extended legs. Any one but the ranger would have believed him asleep ; but, as already stated, Kenton knew all the prisoner's senses were at command, and he was liable at any moment to attempt some- 224 SHOD WITH SILENCE. thing desperate, bound and helpless though he seemed to be. Apparently, only one thing was possible for him ; that was, to draw his feet under him and fling himself over the gunwale into the water ; but his recapture could be effected with so little trouble that the efibrt was alto- gether improbable. " I can foller him in the canoe and bring him back ; the best way, howsumever, would be this," thought Kenton, compressing his muscular fingers around his rifle barrel ; "a single shot would wind up the business in a style that wouldn't leave anything to be done. I'll do it, too." One truth, however, was not to be lost sight of Girty and the Shawanoes that had fled to the Ohio shore knew of the mishap of The Panther, He was such a noted and important leader of that warlike tribe, that he was not likely to be abandoned to his fate if any pos- sible way should present itself for his rescue. What method would be taken to effect this was the problem that caused much specula- tion on the part of Kenton. If the Indians THE SIGNAL. 225 could gather enough warriors, they might venture out in their canoes and openly attack the flatboat ; but none knew better than they the cost of such an attempt, with the chances against success. Girty was aware that, be- sides the peerless scout, three men were on the craft, not counting Jethro Juggens, all of whom were fully armed, and would fight des- perately. In so advantageous a position they could beat off ten times their number, who were certain to suffer great loss. It was quite reasonable, therefore, to conclude that if no other way appeared for rescuing The Pan- ther he would be abandoned to his fate. But were the Shawanoes helpless, so far as the recapture of their leader was concerned ? Could they not bring their cunning into play and outwit the whites without too great risk to themselves ? It cannot be denied that with the majority of frontiersmen, the Gordian knot would have been cut in the most expeditious and straightforward fashion, by placing the pris- oner beyond the possibility of rescue by any one. Furthermore, most frontiersmen 15 226 SHOD WITH SILENCE. would have scoffed at Kenton for his tender- ness. Looking up the river, where the surface faintly shone in the pale moonlight, the sen- tinel detected a faint, shadowy object, hover- ing, as may be said, on the line of invisi- bility. It was so dimly seen that he could not identify it, though he suspected its nature. Turning to the right, so as not to pass near the captive, he walked softly to the stern, where most of the sleepers lay, in order to gain a better view. It was an Indian canoe with several occu- pants." They were the friends of The Pan- ther, and were reconnoitring. If they could find any way to help him they would seize it ; but, remembering that if they could dis- tinguish any one on the flatboat, that one could see them, they hesitated to approach nearer before learning how matters stood. It might be that the pioneers, in their fan- cied security, would partially relax their vigi- lance ; if so, they would be made to pay dearly for it. All at once a faint, tremulous whistle. THE SIGNAL. 227 barely audible, came across the water from the cauoe. Kenton glanced at the prisoner, who started and raised his head. The movement was slight but unmistakable. The meaning was clear to Kenton, who re- flected : " The varmints are signaling to The Pan- ther, and he knows it." 228 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XX. CONSULTATIOlSr AND COUNSEL. THERE could be no doubt that the soft, almost inaudible call which came from the canoe, hovering above the flatboat, was in- tended for the ears of The Panther, whose ac- tions showed that he heard and understood the signal. " I wonder if the varmint will answer," muttered the watchful Kenton, still hold- ing his place at the stern, but acting as though he did not know what was going on. " If he does, he's a bigger fool than I think." The chieftain made no response. To have done so would have been playing into the hands of the sentinel, who The Panther may- have thought did not, as yet, comprehend the full meaning of what had taken place. He dared attempt no communication with his CONSULTATION AND COUNSEL. 229 friends, ready, but hesitating as to the right means of aiding him. He could only await their further action. AVhat complication might have arisen, it is imj^ossible to conjecture, but Kenton ended the business by raising his rifle, aiming as best he could in the dim moonlight, and let- ting fly. More than that, he hit something, as was proven by a half-suppressed cry, the confu- sion, and the abrupt paddling away of the boat. ''There!" he said to himself, walking to- ward the bow, " I'm mistook if that partic'lar boatload of varmints bothers me any more to- night." Nothing proved how strikingly a person can become accustomed to danger than the fact that only one of the sleepers — and he the heaviest — was awakened by the sharp report of the weapon. Jethro Juggens, who was half unconscious at the moment of discharge — for the interruption already suf- fered made him restless — crept from between the boxes furtherest from The Panther, and 230 SHOD WITH SILENCE. intercepted the scout on his way to the front of the boat. " Am any body hurt, Mr. Kenton ?" he asked, before rising from his hands and knees. " Nobody is hurt on this craft," was the re- assuring rejDly ; " you needn't be scared." "Oh, I isn't scared ; don't worry 'bout me; but do yo' know what I tinks?" Jethro followed the scout, and sat down near him. "No," replied Kenton, kindly disposed toward the youth, who was honest, good- natured and deeply attached to every one on the boat. " Dat Panther am up to mischief; I knows it." " Them sort of varmints always are, younker." "Yo' know de low down trick he tried on to me ; de idee ob steppin' into my mouf when I war sleepin' as quiet as a baby ! No- body but a heathen would tink ob dat ; he's gettin' ready to do de same ting again when yo' war kind 'nougli to fire off dat gun so's CONSULTATION AND COUNSEL. 231 to wake me; much obleeged, Mr. Kenton, for gibin' me notice." " I don't see how the varmint could do as you say when his feet are tied together," sug- gested Kenton. " What diff'rence does dat make ? He would put bofe feet into my mouf ; dat's what makes me b'il wid anger." " I didn't think he could do that without trouble, but I had an eye on him, and wouldn't let him treat you as bad as that, Jethro," added the scout, gravely. " You never heard of The Panther afore to-night ?" " No ; I war neber introduced to him afore." " Wal, as I told you, he's one of the worst Injins that ever tramped through Kaintuck and Ohio." " He showed dat by de trick he tried onto me. Any Injun dat crams his foot into a gemman's mouf ain't no gemman." " He would have treated you a great deal worse if he had had the chance ; it^s a wonder he didn't knife you." "What's de diff'rence? De knife would 232 SHOD WITH SILENCE. liab killed me, but if he'd got his feet down my throat dey would hab strangled me, so it all 'mounts to de same. I'm suah de Panther ain't no gemman." " He has killed a good many white people without cause ; he has laid down in the bushes, or hid behind a tree, and shot the baby in its mother's arms, and then scalped the mother and the other children." " I wish I'd known dat when I war wrast- liu' wid him," exclaimed Jethro, glaring in the direction of the prisoner. " I would have frowed him down so hard he would have gone frough de bottom ob de boat." " I wish you had broken his neck, for then we would have been free of him ; but he's with us still, aud the question is what shall we do with him ?" " Would yo' like me to tell you ?" '' Yes." " Disflumraixcate him." " What the mischief do you mean by that?" asked the amused Kenton. " I never heard of anything of that kind." " Yo's awah, Mr. Kenton, dat some folks CONSULTATION AND COUNSEL. 233 ain't SO bigly eddicated as others. To dis- flummixcate a person am to tie his left leg to his right hand, takin' keer dat de foot am so elewated dat it am in front ob his face all de time. When he goes out trabelin' he has to hop round on one foot, and bein' as he can use only one hand, he can't handle a gun berry well. When a man am disflummix- cated, why a child needn't be afraid of him." " I should think not, but suppose The Panther, after being fixed up in that style, should get his hand and leg loose, or his friends should loose them for him, what then ?" " I ought to have explanified dat you liab to keep de chap dat's disflummixcated on his back for free, four weeks ; by de end ob dat time his leg and hand will be growed togeder, and den dar he am !" " We might try it," replied Kenton, with all gravity. " If it warn't for what you say about having to keep him in one place so long ; we'll be down to the clearing to-morrer, and start to put up a cabin for the Altmans. What would you do with The Panther for 234 SHOD WITH SILENCE. the few weeks that it would take his foot to grow fast to his hand ?" "Dat's fixed easy 'nough ; just shove him under de house and let him lay dar." " I'd think it over, younker, but I'm afeared it won't work with The Panther, 'cause he'll be apt to kick himself loose. Where did you get the idee, younker ?" " Right dar," replied Jethro, solemnly tap- ping his forehead ; " dar's whar many ob de big idees ob de kentry comes from. Didn't I handle dat heathen in style, Mr. Kenton, when I grabbed him?" " No one can deny that you done all that, younker." " And I didn't hab my gun nor knife nor anything, nuflQn but dem big arms ; dey're what done it." " That's true, younker." " I've been tinkin' dat instid ob my wastin' time helpin' to build de house, cut down trees, hoe de ground, and do sich nonsense, dat I can use de days to better disumwantage for de folks." "How?" CONSULTATION AND COUNSEL. 235 "Keepiii' off de Injins." "How will you do that?" " Jes' loaf trough de woods, on the lookout for 'em ; when I catches sight ob one I'll grab him round de waist and frow him down so hard I'll broke his back. What do you tink ob de idee, Mr. Kenton ?" The scout looked questioningly at Jethro Juggens, asking himself whether this absurd talk was earnest on the part of the African. Kenton did not understand his race as well as he did the American, and he suspected the fellow meant all he said. His singu- lar success in subduing one of the most terrible of the Shawanoes had evidently in- flated Jethro with an estimate of his own prowess. It would never do for him to nourish this decejDtion, for he was likely to bring disaster not only upon himself, but upon the rest. " Younker," said Kenton, in a voice whose earnestness could not be doubted, " you struck it so lucky in your first wrestling bout with one of the varmints that you've got things mixed in that noddle of yours." 236 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Jethro looked up at tlie scout as though he did not catch his meaning. " I believe you have a gun and know how to use it ?" " Dat am de truf." " Wal, stick to your gun ; keep out of the way of the varmints as long as you can, and leave it to us to tend to 'em. Your bus'ness is to work for your master." " But, Mr. Kenton, de work don't agree wid me; it allers makes me feel bad." "Not half as bad as an Injin would make you feel if you got into a scrimmage with him when he had half a chance at you." " Didn't I handle dat heathen ober dar 'bout right ?" " You must forget about him. As I said, you happened to get him foul, and was strong enough to hold him there. You couldn't do it again in a thousand times." "Gib me a chance and I'll show you," was the confident declaration of Jethro. " I tell you, younker," said Kenton, a trifle impatient, " you don't know any more 'bout fighting the varmints than the gal Agnes does. CONSULTATION AND COUNSEL. 237 What she done was ten times braver than what you done. Don't try any of your plans, for if you do, it will be the last of you, and will play the dickens with the rest of us." " Yo' don't know^ what my plans am, Mr. Kenton ; dey're mighty hefty." *' Mighty tomfoolery, and nothing else ! I don't know what they are, but I warn you not to try any of them in this part of the country." " Whar will I try 'em, den ?" "Nowhere; they won't do; don't forgit what I tell you," Jethro was silent. It was evident that the scout had knocked some of his cherished schemes in the head, and he felt it. "Do you want to make yourself of some use?" asked Kenton, after a brief silence. "I am allers ready to do what I can for de folks." " Pull up the anchor." "Why, dat will let de boat float off!" " Which is what I want. What other rea- son could I have for having the anchor pulled up ?" 238 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " I didn't know but what yo' wanted me to drop it onto de head ob dat heathen, jes' to wake him up. I tought yo' meant to wait till raornin'." "Morning isn't fur off; if we drift a few miles we'll arrive at the clearing afore day- light, and then you can pitch in and go to work." " Dat's what I war afeared of," remarked Jethro, as he slouched along the side of the boat. He was obliged to pass near the motionless figure of The Panther, who slightly raised his head as he approached, as if sus- pecting the fellow intended him harm. " Yo' needn't look at me dat way," said Jethro, warniugly ; " yo' orter larned some sense from de way I slammed yo' on de bot- tom ob de boat. Do yo' want anything more from me?" he demanded, glaring down at the prisoner, while Kenton amusedly watched the scene. Inasmuch as the Shawanoe had maintained a dignified silence thus far, it was not to be supposed he would break it now, even though he possessed a fair knowledge of the words CONSULTATIOX AXD COUNSEL. 239 addressed to him. ISTevertheless, lie fixed bis glittering eyes on the countenance of Jethro, and seemed to " look him through." " Obseuse me ; I forgot dat yo' ain't eddi- cated well 'nough to talk wid gemmen, but you've larned more dan yo' knowed awhile ago." And with this observation Jethro Juggens stepped to where the taut rope ran over the gunwale, and slowly jDulled up the heavy stone that had held the flatboat motionless so long. The'bulky craft began slowly moving with the current, which was quite moderate, even though they were near the middle of the river. " We haven't far to go," remarked Kenton, as the African resumed his place beside him, "and when the folks open their eyes agin they'll be s'prised." 240 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XXI. A FAIR WAEXING. "VTOW that the flatboat had resumed its _^ 1 eventful voyage down the Ohio, Simon Kenton found himself confronted by two grave problems. The first concerned the whole party, for whom he was acting as guide. The sudden and virulent hostility of the Indians left no doubt that a serious mistake was made by Norman Ashbridge and Thomas Altman when they failed to tie up at the block- house and wait until matters became set- tled before going to their new home at the clearing. The reports brought in by other rangers, as well as the knowledge gained by Kenton, made clear the increasing activity among the various tribes. They were preparing to take the war trail. A FAIE WAENING. 241 In fact, tliey had already done so, and the situation of the little party in the single cabin or in both, if given time to erect a second structure, was likely to become perilous to the last degree. Beset by the hostiles on all sides, nothing could save them from de- struction. The different conflicts had intensified their hatred of the white men. They had lost several warriors, and their chief, the dreaded Panther, was a prisoner in their hands at that very moment. " Yes," thought the scout, who gave no further attention to the silent Jethro, whose head was beginning to nod with drowsiness. " It was a big blunder they made in not stopi^ing with Capt. Bushwick at the block- house ; but what's the use of thinking of that, bein' as they didn't do it, and are getting fur- ther away every minute ? We've got to face the futu'." A part of his plan has already been ex- plained. It was to allow the craft to drift with the current, and, if they arrived off the clearing before daylight, to anchor and wait 16 242 SHOD WITH SILENCE. till the sun rose before doing anything fur- ther. No landing would be made until after a full reconnoissance. If everything looked well, they would go ashore, establish them- selves in a single cabin, and begin the build- ing of anothero If the outlook was threatening, and he was quite certain it would prove so, the worst course possible would be to land, for then they would enter a trap from which they could not extricate themselves. The Indians would speedily gather a strong force, sur- round the cabin, and hem in the pioneers beyond possibility of escape. The reader has noted the alarming contin- gency that threatened; the whites, in the event of not landing, must become virtual prisoners on the flatboat itself. They could float down, but not up stream. The only way of reaching the block-house would be by going ashore secretly at night and hurrying thither through the woods. It is hard to conceive a more perilous ven- ture than this must prove, inasmuch as it would be almost impossible to hide the move- A FAIR WARNING. 243 ment from the liostiles, who woukl have them at fatal disadvantage in the shadowy depths of the forest. This was the question which Kenton turned over in his mind, and which caused him to doubt whether he was doing right even in letting the flatboat drift the few remaining miles, for he was continually increasing the distance between his friends and safety. They had set their hearts on going to the clear- ing, however, and there remained the faint prospect that the gathering storm among the Indians might pass without the lightning strikinsT ao;ain. He decided to continue the voyage. The scout naturally sought to discount the future. In other words, he had calculated upon certain events occurring — with the gen- eral result that nothing of the kind took place. It was useless, therefore, to figure and speculate. The true course was to hold him- self ready for whatever came. The second problem that puzzled him was, as to the best disposition to make of The Pan- ther. It has already been shown that Ken- 244 SHOD WITH SILENCE. ton could do liim no harm so long as lie re- mained his prisoner. They must meet in the woods or somewhere on an equal footing. Could he have secured such an interview the day before, near the spring, he would have seized it at as one of the pleasures of his life. Now, we doubt not that a certain line of procedure has suggested itself to more than one reader of this tale : Why not display magnanimity toward the dusky chieftain ? Why not cut his bonds as Agnes had done, and let him go "free ? The act might be ac- companied by a lofty speech, in which the white man assured the grateful captive that he scorned to take advantage of so brave a man, and was thinking chiefly of his pap- pooses and squaw. Could The Panther fail to respond ? Would he not become the friend forever of the pale- face ? Would he not devote his life to help- ing him out of trouble and strive to undo the evil he had wrought against them ? Alas ! that truth compels a negative answer to all thescqueries. Instead of expanding with gratitude, the Shawanoe would pronounce the A FAIE WAENIXG. 245 scout a zany, and lose no time in cloins: his utmost to secure Ms scalp, and to slay every one on the flatboat. Should Kenton loose the captive and place a rifle in his hands, the miscreant would accept the boon, take himself off, and then, if the chance was a good one, wheel and drive a bullet through the heart of his chivalrous conqueror. It would seem that it ought to be feasible for Kenton to hold The Panther as a hostage for the safety of those on the flatboat. Such a task would be comparatively easy if he were manoeuvring against a foe with a faint idea of the obligations of honor ; but the necessity of being compelled at some stage of the pro- ceedings to trust the Shawanoes was the un- surmountable obstacle to the scheme. But the ranger did not abandon the hoj)e of making The Panther more useful to the whites than he had ever been in the past. The flatboat was drifting so near the middle of the stream that there was no necessity of using the sweeps. A scrutiny of the shores and all the visible portion of the river re- vealed no sign of enemies. Jethro Juo-o-eus 246 SHOD WITH SILENCE. had toj^jDled over and was as profoundly un- conscious of the outer world as were those in the cabin. Kenton and The Panther were the only ones awake. The former took a few steps necessary to place him near the captive, where he seated himself on the box immediately in front of him. " Wa-on-mon," said he, in Shawanoe, " you're my prisoner ; your people don't take prisoners, and I've treated you better than you deserve." The Panther looked defiantly up in the face of the white man. "Wa-on-mon is not afraid to die." " Mebbe that's so, but you ain't going to die just yet. 'Spose I let you go — how will you act toward the palefaces ?" " Kill all I can," was the fierce response. "Wall, I'll give you credit for speaking with a single tongue, which is a powerful sight more than most of your kind do ; so I won't cut them ropes and let you swim ashore." " Wa-on-mon not afraid to die," repeated A FAIR WARNING. 247 the cliieftain, with more defiance, if j^ossible, than before. *' Having made that remark just now, there ain't no necessity of harping on the same. We'll agree you ain't afeard to die; I feel that way myself now and then, though I'm not hankering to go under till the good Lord calls me. I 'spose you fancy that you won't get your last sickness till they run short of angels up above. But since you told the truth sort of accidentally just like now, do you think you kin indulge in a little more of the same luxury ?" Kenton had unconsciously dropped into a mixture of Shawanoe and English, and his question was beyond the comprehension of The Panther. The scout, therefore, became more explicit. " You spoke the truth a minute ago ; will you use a single tongue in a few more answers to my questions ?" " Wa-on-mon always speaks with a single tongue." *' I'm sorry you said that, for it's the big- gest lie you ever told, and no one knows it 248 SHOD WITH SILENCE. better than yon. But let it go. Have the Shawanoes made up their niinds to go on the warpath ?" " The Shawanoes have dug up the hatchet," was the proud answer ; " they have gone on the warpath ; tlie Wyandots have dug up the hatchet ; the Pottawatomies have dug up the hatchet ; the Hurons have dug up the hatchet ; the Delawares — " "That'll do," broke in Kenton, "you've flung up enough hatchets to keep things moving; we'll have to larn you to behave yourselves. We've done it once or tAvice, but you forget tbe lesson too soon." " All the red men have dug up the hatchet," continued The Panther, with a fearless defi- ance which caused him to forget his own helpless plight ; " they will drive all the palefaces into the sea." " Hardly any need of that," was the com- ment of Kenton ; *' the Ohio is big enough to drown 'em in, that is, if you kin get hold of 'em all and hold 'em under the water long enough. I take it, then, you mean to keep things moving in these parts." A FAIR WARNING. 249 "The red men Lave joined together; none of them fight each other ; the Great Spirit has whispered in their ears ; they will do His will ; they did not do it before when they let the palefaces come upon tlieir hunting grounds." " It looks as if they didn't. That would have been the time to take the palefaces by the nape of their necks and their trousers and flino; 'em into the sea: that is, while they was wading ashore. Some of 'em have got so far from the sea that it'll make your people tired to carry 'em back to it." It was a curious contrast of moods in the two men holding this converse on the flat- boat, floating silently down the Ohio. One was savage, filled with consuming hate, defiant and fearless, a chained tiger; the other was cool, good tempered, facetious, philosophical and taunting in his peculiar badinage. Kenton knew The Panther was speaking with a *' single tongue," and he did not mean to gratify him by showing any fear because of his words. The American Indian, though in many respects a coward, despises timidity in others, besides which it need not be repeated 250 SHOD WITH SILENCE. that Simon Keuton was one of the bravest men that ever lived. " Have you any idea where Girty and the rest of the Shawanoes are ?" It was a singular question to put to the captive, but the scout was leading up to some- thing else. "They are all over," was the instant re- sponse. " They are in the woods like the leaves on the trees; they are on the water like the drops that fall from the clouds ; they leap through the air like the birds." "I allers knowed Sime Girty was rather promiscus, but I never knowed he was quite up to all that. It's true, Wa-on-mon, that there'are more of you varmints than is allers pleasant, but it isn't wise for you to forget that there are a few palefaces, too, in the woods and along the river. They may not be very good at jumping through the air, like the birds that fly, but now and then when we draw bead on a Shawanoe or some other varmint they make them do the jumping." The ranger looked down in the painted face and grimly smiled. The Panther made A FAIR WARNING. 251 no answer ; perhaps he could think of no suitable one to make. *' I've been wondering, Wa-on-mon, whether you've got the idea into your head that I'm going to turn you loose. There, hold on !" added Kenton, with a deprecatory wave of his hand, " don't tell me you're not afeard to die. I'm gradderly working toward the p'int I have in mind. S'pose I trade you on con- dition that you folks don't bother any of the pale-faces ?" " Wa-on-mon speaks with a single tongue, he will do as his brother wishes." " I don't believe a word of it. I won't trust you, but I will keep you with us and let your folks know that the first one of the pale- faces they hurt I will kill you." " They know Wa-on-mon is not afraid to die," repeated the chieftain, with a return of his old fury of manner. " Very well ; we'll give you a chance to prove it," quietly remarked Kenton ; " you've had fair warning ; if you lose your scalp the blame will be shifted from my shoulders to them of your own people." 252 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XXII. AlSr ALAEMING DISCOVERY. WHILE Kenton was exchanging words with The Panther, the flatboat drifted slowly down stream toward its destination, now at hand. When the last words were ut- tered, the scout noticed that the craft had gradually turned partly sideways instead of being " bow on," as it should be. Two or three sweeps of one of the long paddles straightened matters. There was no call to say anything more to the Shawanoe, who acted as though he con- sidered the interview at an end. He resumed his old attitude, with his head bowed, grim, stoical and defiant, and looking upon the im- mediate future as though it contained naught of moment to him. The ranger resumed his place at the prow and swept with his keen vision the surround- AX ALAEMIXG DISCOVEEY. 253 ing river and forest. He bat! not forgotten that duty while talking with his prisoner. Nothing to cause misgiving caught his eye, and he feared no immediate danger to his friends. The moonlight showed a growing change. A gray, ashen color rapidly overspread the river, and revealed the tree-tops on both shores. Soon a rosy tinge appeared in the east. The night had ended and day was breaking. Kenton was closely scrutinizing the Ken- tucky shore. In the spreading light he identified every jooint with the accuracy of a professional pilot. Just beyond a slight turn in the river — not enough to hide the view — he caught sight of the clearing which was the destination of the flatboat and its passengers. Norman Ashbridge and his son George had wrought hard during the few months spent in this lonely section, A part of the open space, whereon the cabin stood, had been made by nature. This was, perhaps, half an acre in extent, 254 SHOD WITH SILENCE. and first drew attention to the spot. About the same extent of forest had been cleared by their lusty arms and keen axes. The stumps showed, but little of the lumber was left. On the three sides stretched the wilderness, and in front swept the beautiful Ohio. No part of the clearing was under cultiva- tion, and the most interesting sight on which the eyes of Kenton rested was the cabin that had been built by father and son, and of which he had heard much since young Ashbridge joined him. It stood near the middle of the 023en space and perhaps one hundred feet from the river, at the foot of the sloping bank. When the pioneers, with the help of the few implements brought with them, erected the home in the Kentucky wilderness, they did so with pru- dence and wisdom. There was no seeking after comeliness. Strength, durability and safety were the considerations that guided them. The cabin was composed entirely of logs, dovetailed at the corners in the strongest AN ALARMING DISCOVERY. 255 possible manner. The skill with which this was done showed that one pair of hands, at least, were gifted with remarkable deftness. The logs, instead of resting upon one an- other, W'itli gaping crevices between to be filled in with clay, had been smoothed off suf- ficiently above and below to make them join closely, and with much of their surface in close contact. This increased the strength of the frame- work, besides rendering it more secure against attack by an enemy. The structure was perhaps twenty by thirty feet. It had no extensions, so it lacked that break in the dovetailing of the logs which would have been the case had it possessed an- nexes. The chimney was of stone, and ex- tended from a w^ide base at the ground to a narrowing termination several feet above the roof. It was wholly outside of the building, many of the heavy stones of which it was composed attesting the toil and industry of the builders. In the building was one door, which faced the river and was in the middle of the front, 256 SHOD WITH SILENCE. with a window on either side. Above these two windows were two others. The rear was provided in the same manner, above and be- low, but had no door. The ends were finished with a couple of windows, one above the other. These windows were less than a foot wide and twice as high. They were thus fash- ioned to prevent an enemy forcing his way through, should he gain an opportunity to make the attempt. They had no glass, for that article in those days was scarce and costly. Sometimes, oiled j)aper was used, but with the Ashbridge home nothing prevented the free ingress of the air from the outside. In storm or severe weather the inmates could screen the windows or move aw^ay from them. The roof, sloping from the crest each way, was of planking, shelving so steeply that the most agile redskin could not have secured a foothold upon it. The heavy planks came down the Ohio on the flatboat in which father and son first descended the stream. The craft itself entered largely into the make of the structure, though most of the timbers helped AN ALARillXG DISCOVERY. 257 to form the furniture. Chairs, tables, bed- steads, and flooring were fashioned with that skill of which an inkling was obtained from viewing the building as it loomed to view in the gray light of the early morning. The interior bore some resemblance to the colonial houses of New England. The second story was what might be called a half-story, covering only a portion of the floor, and was reached by a sloping ladder. " Well,Vhat do you think of it ?" The question was asked by the elder Ash- bridge, after the sun had risen, and when all on board, having awakened and attended to their ablutions and toilet, gathered near the middle of the flatboat, where the ranger stood studying the structure with an intensity of interest that had more significance than any one suspected. "It is something to be proud of," replied Altman ; " you always were a handy man with tools, Norman, and you've done your- self proud — that is to say, you and George have." " Father deserves all the credit," said the 17 258 SHOD WITH SILENCE. son ; " I did some hard work, but all the planning was his. He seemed never to lose sight of the expected visit by you," added the youth, with a meaning glance at Agnes and her mother. " And where is to be our home?" asked the daughter, deeply interested in the prospect ; for, childlike, her imagination and that of Mabel had been busy. They had talked about their new home in the woods, of the fearful red men, the bears, deer and wild animals, and as is invariably the case, had formed a mental picture of how everything would look, and, as is likewise the invariable fact, the reality proved far different from what they expected, though it would seem there was little margin for the play of fancy. Ashbridge pointed a little to the left of his own home and further up stream. " I think that will be a pleasant location, after more of the land has been cleared. The ground is high and the slope to the river gradual." "Is it far enough back to be safe from freshets and floods ?" AN ALARMING DISCOVERY. 259 " George and I studied the ground with great care, and could find no evidence that the river has ever reached a j)oint above our cabin. How is that, Kenton ?" "It's been here," replied the ranger; "I've seed it myself high enough to touch the sec- ond story and swing the building off down stream." " Surely that doesn't happen often." " No ; it ain't likely to be that way agin for years, though if it had been me as was put- ting them logs together I'd h'isted them a little further back on higher yearth, 'cause it ain't pleasant to wake up in the night and find yourself inside of a pile of logs, bobbing up and down and turning summersets, and most of the time standing on your head in the water, with your feet sticking out of the chimbley — that ere thing is apt to be power- ful wearing after awhile." " I know how to fix dat," remarked Jethro Juggens, who had not allowed a word to escape him, " no need ob being bothered dat way." All looked at the grave face of the African. 260 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " Ebery time dar's a storm, I'm gwine to roost in a tree up among de limbs, wliar I'll be safe." " Since we are likely to be crowded until the new house is put up," observed Mr. Alt- man, " you might as well do that from the first." " Bery well ; dat'll soot me." "Well, Kenton," said Mr. Ashbridge, cheerily, " let us land, and eat our breakfast in our new house." "No," quietly replied their guide, "we'll eat on the boat." Before leaving home, the pioneers had am- ply provided themselves with bread. The weather was too warm to preserve meat, and they had drawn most of their supply of solid food from the river, which in those days, as now, contained both variety and abundance of fish. The flatboat had no stove, but near the bow was a floor of sand spread on some planks, where primitive cooking was done with the rude utensils at command, the fish being generally prepared by broiling on the coals. Instead, now, of taking the time to AX ALARMING DISCOVERY. 261 catch tliem, it was decided to make their meal upon the bread and the coffee, which was boiled in the manner already mentioned. While the two elder ladies were preparing this, the others moved about the boat doing what they could in making ready to take the goods ashore. Naturally, they were in buoy- ant spirits, for all felt that an epoch in their enterprise had been reached. They seemed to forget the perils through which they had passed, and to believe that the end of the voyage meant the end of all danger and suf- fering. Kenton was the only really thoughtful member of the party. Now that the boat was securely anchored off the clearing, he sat down again at the bow, and continued to study the cabin with a closeness of interest shown by no one else. Rarely was he seen so grave and preoccupied. The Panther showed no sign of having stirred since taking his position the night be- fore. Those who stole glances at him now and then — and all did so — fancied his eyes were closed, and he was asleep. Possibly 262 SHOD WITH SILENCE. sucli was the fact, though he was likely to awaken at any moment on the slightest dis- turbance. George Ashbridge sat a short distance away, with his sister Mabel on his left and Agnes Altman on his right, the three facing the cabin on shore. " We will set to work at once," said he, "and in the course of a Aveek or two will have just as good a home for your folks as our own." "But they will live with us until that time," remarked Mabel, fondling her brother's hand. " Of course ; it would hardly be neighborly to make Agnes and the rest sleep outdoors while we had a roof over us." " We shall be crowded," ventured Agnes, with a smile. " Not so much as on the boat. The house looks small, but it is so well arranged inside that we won't be inconvenienced." "How long since you were in your new home, George?" " I left it yesterday before noon, to paddle AN AJ^ARMING DISCOVERY. 263 up the river to meet this boat. Instead of meeting it, I saw another wliich I thought — but what does Kenton wish ?" asked the youth, noticing that the scout was beckoning to him. " Come here, all three of you," called the ranger, in a guarded voice. The wondering group gathered around their friend, " tried and true." " Now, you yonkers have all got good eyes ; I want you to look as sharp at that ere house as you kin, and tell me whether you see any- thing." They did as requested, and replied that they detected nothing so far as the cabin was concerned. "All seems right, does it?" he asked, quiz- zically. " So far as we are able to judge," replied George Ashbridge ; " why is it you ask the question ?" "Nothing partic'lar," replied the scout, "only that ere house is full of Ingins." 264 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XXIII. what's to be done? KENTON'S startling announcement that the log cabin was occupied by Indians was made in a voice heard by every one on the flatboat. It fell like a thunderbolt. All, with the ex- ception of the prisoner, gathered around the scout, and more than one asked the question : " What's to be done ?" " Continner getting breakfast," was his re- ply, addressing Mrs. Altman and Ashbridge ; " they won't hurt us as long as we stay on the boat, so we can take things easy." Every eye was turned with renewed in- terest in the direction of the primitive struc- ture, and sought to learn the means by which the guide had made the alarming discovery which fell from his lips, as might have fallen the declaration that a change in the weather was impending. WHAT'S TO BE DONE? 265 " You don't diskiver anything wrong ?"' he inquiringly remarked, with his peculiar smile, addressing the grou}) generally. " We have examined it closely," said Mr. Ashbridge, " and are at a loss to know the cause of your discovery." " I obsarved it all 'long," remarked Jethro, knowinsrlv. " AVhat did you notice ?" inquired Kenton, turning toward the negro, who stood just be- hind the others. " Dat chimbley ain't 'zactly plumb ; looked as dough it had been knocked kinder side- ways." "What has that got to do with the var- mints ?" " A good deal ; de moment dat I discum- noticed it I knowed dat a heathen had stubbed his toe again it, and knocked it part way round." " Why didn't you tell us then ?" " I war gwine to afore yo' went ashore, but I wanted to see wheder any ob yo' had sharp 'nough eyes to discumcover it." "There isn't anything about the cabin," 266 SHOD WITH SILENCE. resumed Kenton, with another glance at it, "that shows any of the varmints are in there, but I felt in my bones something was wrong." " But what are your reasons for feeling so?" asked Mr. Altman, who knew that so clear-headed a man as Kenton must possess a tangible reason for the astonishing declaration that had fallen from his lips. *' In the fust place, Girty and the varmints knowed where we was going ; they knowed we was making for this clearing, and intended to land and go into that cabin." " AVhat a pity we did not reach the other flatboat before the renegade and the Shaw- anoes left !" said Altman, bitterly. " Yes, it were a dreadful pity," was the in- nocent comment of the scout ; " but, as I was saying, the varmints knowed the p'int we were aiming at, and they had plenty of time to get there ahead of us, so I made up my mind that that was the likeliest thing to happen. It generally comes about when a scrimmage takes place atween the varmints and some of our folks, it's the varmints that are outside WHAT'S TO BE DONE? 267 and the whites inside; but it hapi^ens to be tother way now, and them as is inside has a powerful sight the best chance." " What is their plan ?" " They mean to keep out of sight till we land, and start to enter the house. Then they'll pick us off without getting a scratch themselves." " Dar's one thing sartin," remarked Jethro, amid the oppressive silence ; " dem Injins hain't got no bus'ness in dar ; Mr. Ashbridge owns de place, and he orter make 'em pay rent for de time dey ockerpies it. I hope he'll salt 'em good." The others were too alarmed to heed these words. " I would like to understand one thing, Kenton," said Mr. Ashbridge ; " that is, whether what you have told us is based on the reasoning of which you have just spoken, or whether you have certain knowledge of the Indians being in the cabin." "It's sartin knowledge," replied the scout. " In what manner was that knowledge gained ?" 268 SHOD WITH SILENCE. *' I seed one of the varmints with my own eyes." " When r " About sunup, the boat warn't more'n fairly to rest when I took a good squint at the cabin, for I had plenty of misgivings and no mistake. At the upper winder, on the right of the door, as we face the house, I catch ed a glimpse of a painted face, just the corner of his head, as though he was peeping from behind a tree to draw a bead with his rifle. It was only a second, for them varmints are j^owerful keerful, but it was enough. It told the story as plain as if they had come out and told it themselves." This statement, made by any one else, would not have been credited, but, coming from Ken- ton, no one doubted a syllable. Jethro Juggens opened his mouth to offer a suggestion, but a frown from his master hushed the words before they were uttered. " I understand," said Ashbridge, " you saw only one, while you speak of a number." " Do you s'pose that one of the varmints would hide himself in there to wait for us to come through the door?" WHAT'S TO BE DONE? 269 " But you cannot know the exact number." " No ; there may be half a dozen or twice as many. They know how many of us are on the flatboat, and they woukln't wait in there unless they were sartin they's enough to send us all under." This was reasonable, and none ventured to dispute the conclusion. The vigorous appe- tites which all had experienced a short time before were sensibly affected, excej^t, perhaps, in the case of Jethro, who cast longing eyes at the women busy preparing the coffee, whose aroma filled the air. " AVe are ready," said Mrs. Ashbridge, quietly ; " but neither of us feels much like eating breakfast." " Eat when you've got the chance is my law," observed Kenton ; " for you don't know when another chance will come." " Dem's my sentuments, likewise," assented Jethro ; " and dey're bery wise." And so the two women, two girls and five men grouped themselves in irregular order around one of the boxes on which the bread had been placed after cutting into slices, with 270 SHOD WITH SILENCE. the steamiDg coffee ready to be poured into the tin cups. These comprised the morning meaL At another time it would have proven scant, but there was abundance now. When all was ready, and before any had partaken, Thomas Altman bent his head, and in few words asked the blessing of Heaven upon the food, and the continued protecting care of their Divine Father in the perils which encompassed them all. It was an impressive sight ; all the heads bowed, while the murmured prayer found an echo in every heart. They had passed through many dangers, and had been mercifully pre- served, but it began to look as if their situation was more helpless than at any time before. Hardly a word was spoken during the sim- ple meal. Many covert glances were cast in the direction of the clearing, but nothing out of the usual order could be observed. At the close of the breakfast, Agnes said, with a faint smile : "We have forgotten something." "What is that?" asked her mother, while all looked wonderingly at her. WHAT'S TO BE DONE? 271 "The Panther — he must be hungry." " The gal is right," Kenton was quick to say ; " the good book teaches us to feed them as is hungry, and it won't do to forget the varmint. You were so kind to him afore, you're the one to look after him now." Agnes turned to the scout, as if seeking the meaning of this remark, but his face never wore a more serious expression. Had she scrutinized it a little more closely, she might have noted a faint twinkle of the blue eyes, which left no doubt of the waggish im- pulse that prompted the remark. With two substantial slices of bread in one hand, and a tin cup brimming with coffee in the other, Agnes walked carefully along the side of the boat to where the sullen Shawanoe sat with his chin on his breast. " Wa-on-mon," she said, in a gentle voice, "here are bread and coffee for you." He did not stir or look up. She thought he was asleep, and had not heard her. Stooping slightly, she touched his forehead with the hand holding the bread. Like a flash, he darted a glance into her face. 272 SHOD WITH SILENCE. "AVliat want?" he demanded. '' Here is a nice cup of coffee and some bread for you ; I'm sorry I haven't anything better, but it is all we have." "Don't want," he replied, angrily shaking his head. " But you must take the coffee." " Can't drink ; hands fast." "I wouldn't loose his hands," remarked Kenton, who, like all the rest, was watching the proceedings. " I'm afraid it won't pay." " Don't be frightened ; I won't do anything like that again," replied Agnes. "Here, Wa-on-mon, I will hold the coffee to your lips." And, without heeding his protest, she placed the cup to his mouth. It looked as if he had changed his mind, and decided to accept the kind offer. He threw his head forward and seemed to be drinking, but he did not swallow a drop. Instead, he closed his teeth with the edge of the cup be- tween, and then, by a quick flirt, sent the utensil with the hot fluid tumbling over his head, upward and outward into the river. No WHAT'S TO BE DOXE? 273 prestidigitateur could have performed the feat more cleverly. Before the astonished Agnes could speak, Kenton called out : "Didn't you know the varmints won't drink coffee?" " I know this one won't, but I didn't know it before. How will he like the bread?" asked the girl, hesitating, with the coarse brown slices in her hand. "Try him and see." Agnes extended the thick pieces. The Panther parted his jaws as if to take a big mouthful. So he did, but the moment his teeth were fastened in the bread, he repeated his performance, flirting the food over the gunwale behind him, and then spat out what remained in his mouth. ''You're a mean, ungrateful creature, that's what you are!" exclaimed the indignant Agnes; "you deserve to come to want for that." "Dat's what I tinks," added Jethro, rising to his feet, and peering over the side of the boat, as if to learn whether the bread and 18 274 SHOD WITH SILENCE. coffee were gone beyond recovery ; " I could hab made better use ob dem tings myself," " Wa-on-mon don't want — go away — leave Wa-on-mon be." *' I'll do so," said Agnes, turning quickly on her lieel ; *' I'll never try to do a kindness to you again." " Better say that for all the varmints," re- marked Kenton ; " for they're all alike." The Panther had dropped his chin on his breast again and preserved the same stolid silence as before. He appeared to feel no concern in what was going on around him, and cared nothing for the little ebullition of feeling he had caused. " I would like to know one thing," said the elder Ashbridge, addressing Kenton, " and that is what is to be done with that fellow now that we're at the end of our voyage." "I'll show you," replied the scout, rising to his feet. There was no trace of a smile on his face. All saw that he had decided upon some decisive step. " Friends," he added, " I'm going ashore ; I'm going into the cabin." WHAT'S TO BE DONE ? 275 " But they will shoot you," protested Alt- man. " Mebbe they will and mebbe they won't, but if they do I'll count on you," said the scout, addressing young Ashbridge, *' to let daylight through The Panther." " I pledge you I will do it," replied the youth, " but a hundred lives like his are not worth one like yours." '' Not to me, that's sartin, but we must take chances." " How will you manage it ?" " I will paddle ashore with ^ him in the canoe, and leave him in the boat, where the varmints in the cabin can see him, and where you can cover him wdth your gun ; then we'll see." 276 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XXIV. A STEANGE PEOPOSAL. HAVING decided upon his course of ac- tion, Simon Kenton moved promptly. Striding to where the sullen chieftain sat, with his back against the side of the flatboat, he griped one of his arms and fairly lifted him to his feet. The Panther was able to stand erect, but with the rigid thongs about his ankles, could not take a step. Flinging one arm about his waist, with his other hand grasping his rifle, the scout raised him as though he were a child, walked to the other side of the boat, and leaning over the gunwale, carefully set his burden in the canoe floating at the side of the larger craft. He did this so deftly that the smaller boat was scarcely disturbed. Then he sat down, laid his rifle in front of himself, unfastened the canoe and lifted the paddle. A STRANGE PROPOSAL. 277 " Younker," he said, looking up at George Ashbridge, who had followed him to the gun- wale, " stand there with the hammer of your gun raised ; you're not to do anything to the varmint onless something happens, to me. Do you understand ?" " I do ; if a hair on your head is harmed, it's good-bye, Mr. Panther." " That's it, but don't be too quick ; you'll know of a sartinty if I go under." Ever}^ one on board watched the proceed- ings with breathless interest. All felt that the crisis of their venture had come, and the next few minutes would decide the fate of the little party. If the Shawanoe harmed the daring Ken- ton their chieftain would receive not a sec- ond's grace at the hands of young Ashbridge. In turn, the infuriated hostiles would deny mercy to every man, woman and child on the flatboat. Everything now depended on the reception given to Kenton. Ashbridge and Altman stood near the bow, each with rifle grasped, ready for instant use. 278 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Even Jethro Juggens was impressed with the gravity of the situation, for he, too, held his gun ready for instant use and was silent. Despite his sluggish intellect and seeming stupidity, he was one of the best marksmen in the party, and under proper direction would prove a valuable ally. He had been warned not to fire without orders, and he promised to obey. Mrs. Altman and Agnes sat as close to the husband and father as they could place them- selves without interfering with his freedom of movement, and Mrs. Ashbridge and Mabel did the same as regards Mr. Ashbridge. George held his post at the stern, gun clasped in both hands and the muzzle lowered, but in position for prompt use Avhenever necessary, while he never removed his eyes from the canoe and its occupants, except to glance at the house, now of profounder interest than ever before. Several of those on the boat expected the Shawanoes within the building to show them- selves at the windows, but they kept out of sight, and but fur the assurance of Kenton, A STRANGE PROPOSAL. 279 his friends could not have believed that a living soul was within the structure. The flatboat lay so comparatively near shore that it took but a brief while for the scout to paddle the distance. While doing so, he faced the prisoner, and thus had his back to- ward the clearing, but he continually glanced over his shoulder, as though expecting some demonstration from his enemies. None was made, and he drove the nose of the canoe up the bank, where it stuck ftist. " Wa-on-mon," he said, before rising from his seat, " I reckon you understand matters, but, to prevent any mistake, I'll explanify. I'm going to leave you in the canoe while I go forward to have a pow-wow with your folks in the cabin ; I'll agree that if they come out and leave us alone, I'll set you free ; but if they draw a bead on me, that young man standing on the boat, with his gun ready, will let daylight through you quicker'n light- ning, and wind up all your warpath bus'ness. Or, if it can be fixed that you and me will fight it out alone, I'm agreeable." The black eyes flashed at the last remark, 280 SHOD WITH SILENCE. but The Panther replied with no little dig- nity : " Wa-on-mon does not fear to meet the pale- face in the woods, but he cannot fight when he is a child, because his hands and feet are bound." " That remark is unnecessary," said Ken- ton, in English, " for nobody thinks any dif- ferent. I don't believe I could do much my- self, if I was in your fix, except to butt with my head, and I never seed one of your kind that was good at that. All you've got to do is to stay where you are, and you can't very well help doing that, and if I can fix it so you and me can fight this thing out, you kin depend on me to do it." As Kenton stepped from the canoe to walk up the slope, he took from the inside of his hunting shirt a large white handkerchief, which he usually carried with him, and held it above his head. The Shawanoes could not fail to recognize the fiag of truce. AVhether they would re- spect it, remained to be seen. Probably they would do so for a time, owing to the peculiar circumstances surrounding it. A STRANGE PEOPOSAL. 281 It was a trying situation for the scout, for many a man, as he well knew, had been wantonly shot down while advancing with this sign of comity. He showed no faltering, however, walking with deliberate gait, his gaze on the front of the cabin, assured that every eye in the building was secretly watch- ing him, while his friends on the flatboat fairly held their breath under the tension of their nerves. Those on the craft expected him to hail the house before reaching it, but, instead of doing so, he advanced until close to the massive door, whose heavy timbers rendered it as strong as the side of the cabin itself. AVhile it could be secured on the inside with jDOwerful wooden cross-bars, yet the usual method of locking it was by pulling in the latch-string. When that was out, a twitch would raise the fastening within, and a gentle pressure would cause the structure to swing back on its hinges. Before Kenton arrived at the door, he noted the leathern string dangling through the ori- fice above the latch. That was to be ex- 282 SHOD WITH SILENCE. pectecl, for the Shawanoes wished the whites to walk inside with no misgivings, until too late to save themselves. With his rifle in his left hand, he reached out his right and pulled the string. Instantly the latch was raised, and the door swung in- ward of its own weight. By means of the string, which he retained in his grasp, he checked and held the door 'motionless, with only a few inches of opening. He glanced up at the windows for the dozenth time, but saw none of the enemies he was certain were inside. Instead of entering, he called in Shawanoe through the partly open door : "The white man wishes to speak to his brother; he has something to say in his ear." He paused for a reply, but the stillness was unbroken. Could it be that he was in error after all ? No ; he knew he was not. " Helloa, Girty ! I know you are in there, so you may as well answer; I know, too, you've got a lot of varmints with you," said A STEANGE PROPOSAL. 283 Kenton, in English ; " jou. may think you kin fool me, but you can't." The listener heard a footfall. Some one was moving across the lower floor, and taking no pains to hide the noise. Suddenly the renegade, with his red face, his sandy whiskers, his small gray eyes, his frowsy hair, his coonskin cap, his weapons and hunting costume, presented himself at the door, near enough for his former friend and acquaintance to touch him, had he wished, with his outstretched arm. Girtywas angry, and uttered an execration. "What do you mean by this?" he de- manded. Kenton, who always had a perception of the grotesque side of things, smiled. " jSTow, see here, Sime, do you think it's a squar' deal to bring a lot of friends into a man's house in this style, without asking leave? The younker left the latch-string out, as he always does, but that didn't mean you were to fetch all the varmints you could scare up on both sides of the Ohio with you when you called on him." 284 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " You are the infernalest chap I ever knowed," remarked the renegade, still angry, " don't you see we kin send you under quick- er'n a wink of the eye?" " So you kin, so you kin, though I come to you under a flag of truce." " To the mischief with your flag of truce ! What do we care for that ?" " Not much, that's true ; you kin send me under, but in the same second The Panther will start for his happy hunting grounds." "That's all that saved you," remarked Girty, with a j^eculiar expression, " but now you're here, what do you want ?" " How many varmints have you inside?" It will be noted that the white men were conversing in English. While most of the tribe could not speak or understand the lan- guage, there were a number, like The Pan- ther, who knew considerable of it. The two Simons were talkino- with the knowledo:e that every word sj^oken was heard and fully or partly comprehended by the Indians within the cabin. When, therefore, Kenton asked the ques- A STRANGE PROPOSAL. 285 tion just given, the renegade made instant response : "Ten." But even while he sjooke he moved the fingers and thumb of his left hand, and partly closed one of the eyes that were looking straight into the face of Kenton. The latter nodded. He " caught on." Instead of ten warriors being within, the number was just half that. " Yes, ten of the best warriors of the Shaw- anoes — enough to take the scalps of twice as many palefaces. We are armed; we are waiting for you." " How long do you mean to wait ? You see it ain't a big house, Sime, and there's hardly room for all inside. We're not going in till you come out." " We will keep the house ; we shall stay as long as we wish ; when we get ready we'll set it afire, and come out and take your scalps." "That's big talk, but it won't work with us. We've got Wa-on-mon, The Panther, and I'll make you this proj^osition, which you can 286 SHOD WITH silence. explain to your friends : If you and they will come out and go off in the woods, and not do anything to harm our folks, and promise to leave us alone, I will set the chieftain free, give him back his knife and gun and toma- hawk, and let him follow you." There were some singular features about this proposition, the most singular of which was that in making it Kenton was fully aware that not the slightest reliance could be placed upon the Shawanoes observing a single one of its provisions for a moment longer than it was to their interest to do so. But the scout had other arrangements in mind, to which his proposal served only as the introduction. "I'll talk with my brothers," remarked Girty, turning about and pushing the door to, though he did not latch it. Kenton caught the murmur of voices and heard the shuffling of feet. Had he not known differently, he might have believed a dozen Indians were within, but he penetrated the little subterfuge. They w^ere doing this to impress him with their numbers and strength. He could afford to smile and wait. A STEAXGE PROPOSAL. 287 Turning his side toward the door, he looked back. The Panther was seated in the canoe just as he had been left. Young Ashbridge, with rifle held in both hands, was ready to bring the weapon to a level the moment the call came. He was standing erect behind the nearest gunwale, and did not allow the slightest occurrence to escape him. The rest of the party were grouped about, silent, watchful, filled with anxiety, dread and foreboding. Seeing all were looking at him, Kenton waved his hand in salutation. He was seen to smile, but no one was in the mood to re- spond in that fashion. Agnes replied with upraised hand, but, like the rest, her face was pale and her suspense almost unbear- able. Girty returned abruptly and spoke in a surly voice, though the expression of his face partly contradicted his words. " The warriors propose, Sime, that you and The Panther shall fight this thing out," was the astonishing remark of the renegade. 288 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " Nothing will suit me better," was the in- stant response. " All right ; it'll take only a few minutes to fix it." BY THE SPLINTEEED OAK. 289 CHAPTER XXV. BY THE SPLINTERED OAK. NO proposition could have suited Simon Kenton better than that the quarrel of the pioneers and Shawanoes should be set- tled by a personal conflict between him and The Panther. That had been his longing from the first, but he saw no way of bringing it about. Now, the suggestion came from the chieftain's side. As it was, the scout doubted whether any- thing approaching fairness would be shown. He was confident the Indians would attempt treachery, but, as we have intimated, the scheme he had in mind reached further than that of his enemies. " Nothing can suit me better," he added to Girty, who stood in the half-opened door talk- ing with him, the words of both being audible to those within. 19 290 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " You and The Panther have been huntin' each other for more'n a year," observed the renegade, " and it's a jnty you hain't met afore, so you could wind up the bus'ness as it oughter be wound up." " It ain't my fault that we hain't met, Sime, nor do I know that it is the Panther's, but things didn't run our way. What's the idee?" " You are to loosen the hands and feet of The Panther, so he can have a fair chance, that's the fust step," added Girty, with an ex- pression of countenance which satisfied the scout he was honest so far. " No use of remarking that ; it's agreed to." " There's a splintered oak — been struck by lightning, I s'pose — about one hundred yards down stream, and back just far 'nough to be out of sight of the river. A little stream of water winds at the foot of the oak." " I know the spot," said Kenton. " You're to walk there without your rifle and wait for The Panther ; he'll be only a few minutes behind you. Each will have his knife, but nothing else. There isn't to be BY THE SPLINTEKED OAK. 291 any of your people to look on nor any of ours." "What next?" " The one as wins is to come back here — not to the cabin if it's you, but down by the edge of the water, where the canoe is to be left. If it's you, you must wave the sculp of The Panther over your head as a token of what you've done, though the sight of your- self will be i:)urty good 23roof." " 'Sposing I do that, what next ?" "Me and the ten Shawanoes will come out of the front door, leave, and won't bother you any more." " 'Sposing it's The Panther that comes back with my topknot ?" " Then we ain't under any promise to leave —that's all." " I agree to them conditions." It will be remembered that during this con- versation the two white men stood within arm's length of each other, and though the listening warriors inside might form a clear idea of what passed between them, no one was able to see their countenances. 292 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Kenton's gratitude to Girty has already been explained. The latter, as he had inti- mated, was not willing to do anything more for the scout, though inclined to wish him well, but the warning given the preceding night, of the intended attack on the other flatboat, was not without a certain effect on the evil man. There is a language of expression often more effective than words. Simon Girty's good will went to the extent of seeking to tell the truth to his former friend. When his words declared there were ten warriors in the building, he contradicted it by gesture, and gave the correct number. So, during the conversation recorded, he and Kenton held another exchange of thoughts by means of the eyes, expression and stealthy gesture. This "inner" conversation might be recorded as follows : " Is this proposition of yours, Girty, a squar' one?" " It is." " Why do the varmints make it ?" " Being thar are only five of 'em and thar BY THE SPLIXTEEED OAK. 293 are that many of you, they don't feel quite so sartiu as they did. If you hadn't been along, "we'd have trapped them folks with you as sure as a gun." " Of course ; but how is this thing going to be worked?" " Just as I said ; I'm going to do what I kin to see it's put through straight." That which follows was spoken, and there- fore intended for the ears of all within hear- ing. " I will go back to the large boat with The Panther ; I will give him his knife, but not his gun or tomahawk ; I'll bring him to shore agin, leaving my gun on the big boat, and your promise is that no one shall come out of this cabin till The Panther or me comes back from that little argyment by the splint- ered oak." "That's it; none of the Shawanoes can leave the house except by this door, where the people on the flatboat can see 'em ; that'll give 'em a chance to shoot 'em down or let you know." " Enough said," was the response of Ken- 294 SHOD WITH SILENCE. ton, who turned on his heel and walked back more rapidly to where The Panther awaited him in his canoe. There, while paddling slowly out to the flatboat, he explained what had been agreed upon. He was glad to note the flash of The Panther's eyes when he comprehended that they two were thus to settle not only the dis- pute between the parties, but the bitter, long- standing feud between themselves person- ally. " Wa-on-mon will hasten to meet the pale- face," he replied ; " for the paleface is a dog ; he is not fit to live." " Now hold on that sort of talk," said Kenton, grimly ; " for it ain't necessary atween you and me. It's the custom of you var- mints to rouse a prisoner by saying powerful bad things, but, as I remarked, it's altogetlier onnecessary with me, 'cause I hate you so much that I can't hate you any more. Don't forget one thing, my painted beauty," added Kenton, with a gleam of frightful ferocity, "that when you and me meet, one or the other dies." BY THE SPLINTERED OAK. 295 An instant before reaching the side of the flatboat the ranger ceased paddling, and lean- ing slightly forward cut the thongs at the ankles and the wrists of his prisoner. "That's just what you blamed me for," re- marked Agnes xlltman, who, like the others, witnessed the act. " Yes," replied Kenton, " and I'm going to do another thing you done." As he spoke, he stepjoed over the gunwale to where the rifle, towahawk, and knife of The Panther were laid after being taken from him. He picked up the last named and handed it to the chieftain, who retained his place in the canoe. *' If it's you that goes down," explained Kenton, " you wont need the other things ; if it's me, you can paddle out in the canoe and get 'em. I know, Wa-on-mon, that that's asking you to put some faith in the promises of the palefaces, but this thing can't be managed without something like that. If it was your people, they would lie, 'cause they can't help it, but you can depend on us." It was necessary to explain the extraordi- 296 SHOD WITH SILENCE. nary arrangement to his friends, which Ken- ton did in the fewest words possible. One and all pronounced it the wildest scheme that could possibly be devised. They set out to dissuade the ranger, but he checked them with a peremptory gesture. "I give The Panthor a lecture awhile ago on the onnecessariness of saying onnecessary things, which th^ same will do for you. You understand that not an Indian is to leave the cabin till this thing is over. None of the varmints can come out without using the front door, where you'll see 'em." "If we see them try it," said Altman, " what then ?" " Drop 'em as quick as you can take aim ; if I hear a gun I'll know what it means, and will see that they don't work any tricks on me." "Suppose," remarked Mr. Ashbridge, ex- pressing the thought that was in the mind of every one, " that instead of you it is The Pan- ther who comes back from the splintered oak — what's to become of us ?" "It won't be The Panther that'll come back." BY THE SPLINTERED OAK. 297 Self-confidence is a good thing, but the friends of the scout had less faith than they desired in the declaration of the scout. "Younker, you'll take me ashore first," said Kenton, addressing George Ashbridge, " then you'll come back and take him." A simpler method would have been for the two combatants to make the trip together ; but the ranger had his own reason for the ar- rangement named. He wished the canoe to be left beside the flatboat, where it would be at the command of his friends, and in no other Avay could this be done. " All right ; I'm ready," replied the youth. " Can't I be ob some usefulness to de parties dat am obscerned ?" asked Jethro, not liking his total eclipse ; " yo' see dat heathen might try to jam one ob his feet in Marse George's mouf, and I know how to handle him if he tries dat." " You can be of use by keeping quiet and doing nothing you are not told to do," said his master, sternly. *' Berry well ; I never was disappreciated," replied the African, retiring behind the 298 SHOD WITH SILENCE. group, who were too intently interested for words. Simon Kenton was a man of action. He stepped over the gunwale, armed only with his knife, which was thrust in his girdle. He took up the paddle, w^ith young Ashbridge, rifle in hand, watching him. A few strokes carried them ashore, no word being spoken on the way. "Now go back and bring The Panther," directed the scout, placing his foot on the land, "and keep your eye open for squalls. Kemember, if any of the varmints start to leave the house, pick him off afore he can take two steps." " Dej^end upon us for doing our best." And the youth started back for the flat- boat, where his friends and the single enemy awaited him. The Shawanoe seemed to recover the full use of his limbs the moment he was released. He stood apart, near the stern of the craft, with arms folded, sternly watching the canoe, while the pioneers were grouped at the front. George Ashbridge shied the smaller craft BY THE SPLINTEEED OAK. 299 beside the larger one, bringing it broadside to, and nodded to The Panther to step in. " I've got to handle the paddle," added the youth, addressing his father and Mr. Altman. '' Be ready to shoot if he tries any dodge on me." " Have no fear on that score," replied the father, compressing his lips. If The Panther contemplated any thin g of the kind he reconsidered his purpose. He sat grim and immovable during the short pas- sage, while young Ashbridge, keeping his face toward him, manipulated the paddle and never took his eye for more than a second from his repellant countenance. The moment the boat touched shore the chieftain rose, stepped out, and strode in the direction taken a few minutes before by Ken- ton. George hurriedly paddled back to the flatboat and rejoined his friends. " Now," he said, " I can't help believing they mean to play some trick on Kenton, but he can take care of himself, if he has only The Panther to deal with. Let's make sure that none of the Shawanoes leave the cabin." 300 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " I rather wish they would try it," remarked Altman, " for it will give us a fine chance to pick them off. At times like this every one counts, you know." Meanwhile, the ranger, plunging into the woods bordering the clearing, made his way straight to the splintered oak, where The Panther had promised to meet him in mor- tal combat. It was not far, but the forest abounded with undergrowth, and the vegeta- tion was so dense that Kenton disappeared almost immediately from sight. Arrived at the rendezvous, the scout closed his fingers around the buckhorn handle of his knife, so that it could be whipped out like a flash, and faced toward the clearing, eager, expectant, and with his self-confidence dimin- ished not an iota. A SLIP SOMEWHEER 301 CHAPTER XXVI. A SLIP SOMEWHERE. IT has been stated that the splintered oak where the Caucasian and the American were to meet in deadly combat, was about one hundred yards below the clearing in which the cabin stood. This brief distance was quickly passed by Simon Kenton, who took his station, armed only with his hunting-knife, and with his back almost touching the huge trunk that had been shattered by a bolt from heaven. It was a fitting scene for the tragedy that impended — the spot where heaven's wrath had manifested itself. The surrounding vegeta- tion and undergrowth were dense, and the keenest vision could penetrate but a short dis- tance in any direction. Only those intimately acquainted with the great scout would have noted any change in 302 SHOD WITH SILENCE. his face or demeanor. His thin lips were compressed perha23S a little more closely than usual, and the blue eyes showed a steely, glit- tering light, rarely present except on occa- sions of great excitement. Not a nerve trembled, however. He was as cool as when he stood at the bow of the flatboat, and it was drifting down the Ohio. His muscles were set, and he was strung to the highest possible point of resolution. Well aware of the cat-like subtlely and treachery of his enemy, he was on the alert for the first move from him. It looked im- possible for the wily Shawanoe to steal upon him unawares. " I hope he'll come," muttered Kenton, as the minutes slipped by ; " we've both been looking for this chance, and we'll never get a better one. He can't have any of the other varmints to help him, and he knows I wouldn't have any of mine if there was a hundred in call. It's time he was here." Standing alone in the depth of the wood, Kenton could calculate to a minute when The Panther was due. Young Ashbridge had only A SLIP SOMEWHEEE. 303 to return to the flatboat and then brins: him ashore, after which the chieftain had but the brief distance to walk to the shattered oak. Yes, it was time he arrived. The scout could think of nothing to hinder or prevent his coming on time, but five minutes beyond that limit had already jDassed, and the wiry, serpent-like form of the chieftain had failed to emerge from the circling undergrowth into the slight natural clearing. The scout listened closely, but he depended on his sight alone, for the Shawanoe, like the rest of his warriors, was " shod with silence " when engaged in enterprises like this, and could steal upon a foe without the slightest sound. Ten minutes more went by, and still The Panther was invisible. An expression of unutterable disgust passed over the face of the ranger, for he read the meaning aright. Wa-on-mon would not come ; it was idle to wait longer for him. Had Kenton been acquainted with modern speech, he would have expressed the situation 304 SHOD WITH SILENCE. in the single expression : " The Panther has flunked." Now, this would have been acceiDted in the light of a compliment by most people in the situation of the ranger, but the exasperating fact about the Shawanoe's failure to come to time was that it meant much more than ap- peared to be the case. In the first place, the dusky miscreant was one of the bravest of his race. He did not hold any white man in personal fear, and had proved himself the superior of most of them in more than one deadly encounter in the re- cesses of the wilderness. He was not afraid of Kenton. He spoke with " a single tongue " when he declared he was eager to meet the ranger in mortal con- flict. The self-confidence of one was no greater than that of the other. But the scout dreaded the very thing that had come to pass. Not a minute was to be lost in checkmating the cunning chieftain. The throbbing solicitude of the friends on the flatboat possibly may be imagined. Feel- ing was too deep for words. Mabel sat by her A SLIP SOMEWHEEE. 305 mother and Agnes by her parent, all pale and silent, while the men stood here and there, each grasping his gun and on the alert. Even Jethro Juggens was weighed down by the solemn gravity that oppressed all, and asked himself whether he could not do something to help matters. He dreaded the wrath of his master, however, too greatly to venture upon any essay without his permission. Like the rest, he could only await the issue of events. The main duty of the pioneers was to hold the cabin under surveillance. It has been ex- plained that the narrowness of the windows left the front door the only means of ingress and egress ; consequently, if Girty or any of the Shawanoes attempted to depart, he must come under the fire of the watchers, every one of whom would seize the chance of bringing down an enemy. " Father," said Agnes, in a low voice, " have you noticed that window on the right of the door, but above it and near the corner of the house ?" " I observe nothing in it different from the other windows." 20 306 SHOD WITH SILENCE, " Some one is peeping out ; I have had a glimpse of him several times." " Dat's so," added Jethro ; " I've observed the same, and once he winked his eye at me — seed him plain." The girl having thus directed attention to the opening, every one watched it more closely than before. A few minutes sufficed to prove Agnes right. Something resembling a flickering shadow left no doubt that one or two of the inmates had selected for some cause that outlook. " It would be mighty easy to wing one of those Shawanoes," remarked young Ash- bridge, nervously handling his gun, as if asking permission to try his hand at it. " No doubt, but it won't do, for it would be a violation of our agreement with them." *' I wonder whether they will break any of their pledges with us?" " They will break them all if they gain the chance, but this is no justification of wrong on our part. The only excuse we can have for firing is the discovery that some decep- tion is attempted on Kenton, or the sight of A SLIP SOMEWHERE. 307 one of the Shawanoes coming frona the front of the house." While the words were in the mouth of the ekler Ashbridge, the door of the cabin was abruptly drawn inward half-way, an Indian warrior leaped into view, and started like a deer across the clearing toward the splintered oak, where The Panther and Kenton had agreed to meet in mortal combat. The sight was so unexpected that the pio- neers were speechless for a moment. Then they awoke from their spell. The sharp crack of a rifle rang out, the Indian bounded high in the air with a loud outcry, partly fell, re- covered himself, and then limped hurriedly back to the door, through which he plunged from sight. And who fired the shot that nipped the little scheme in the bud ? Jethro Juofsens, than whom there was no better marksman in the entire company. The daring Shawanoe could not have reached the shelter of the wood under any circumstances, for at the in- stant the African let fly George Ashbridge and his father, as well as Mr. Altman, were 308 SHOD WITH SILENCE. in the act of raising their pieces. Among the three the Shawanoe coukl not have gotten off as well as he did at the hands of Jethro Juggens. " 'Spose he thought he'd slid out dar whar Mr. Kenton hab gone and choke him to de def like he tried to choke me by jamming his foot in my mouf, but he won't do it now." " That was a good shot of yours," remarked Mr. Altman; "you were quicker than any of us. But you know the rule." " Reckon I does," remarked the grinning Jethro, aware that his employer referred to the law of the hunter, to the effect that the first thing to be done after firing a gun is in- stantly to load again, so as to be ready for any emergency. The African, therefore, pro- ceeded to make his rifle ready for further service. *' Did you try to kill the Indian ?" asked Mr. Ashbridge, sharing in the admiration of the negro's skill. "War he killed?" asked Jethro, pompously. " Of course not, for he was able to go back to the house and pass through the door." A SLIP SOMEWHEEE. 309 "Den you question am obficiently an- swered. If I ]iad wanted to drop him I'd done it, but all I war after war to stop his running ; did I do dat, Mr. Ashbridge ?" " It certainly has that look." "I understood from Mr. Kenton dat we war to keep dem heathen from running away from de house ; am I kerrect, gemmen ?" " There, you have said enough," interrupted Mr. Altman, " finish reloading your gun and the next time shoot to kill." " Eery well ; consider dat de second Injin dat tries dat game am already chasin' deer in his happy huntin' grounds." "Sh ! yonder is Kenton !" exclaimed Agnes Altman, in an excited undertone. All saw the ranger standing on the edge of the river, just below the clearing where the undergrowth hid him from the sight of the Shawanoes in the cabin. " Thank God ! he has won !" was the fer- vent exclamation of Mr. Altman. " He is making motions to us !" said the younger Ashbridge; "hark! he is saying something." 310 SHOD WITH SILENCE. The ranger placed his hand beside his mouth to guide his voice, and called in a guarded undertone : " H'ist the anchor quick, and dro^^ down opposite me." Without pausing to ask for any explana- tion, Jethro Juggens dropped his gun and seized the rope fastened to the large stone at the bottom of the river. The flatboat began slowly drifting down stream, and quickly arrived 023posite the scout. " Now anchor agin !" he added ; " don't lose any time ; things are getting warm." The stone splashed into the water and the bulky craft came to a standstill by the time it was fairly under way. " Come ashore, all of you, in the canoe." The flatboat, it must be borne in mind, was out of the field of vision of the Shaw- anoes, but there was no saying how long it would remain so. " Who shall come first ?" asked young Ash- bridge. *' The men ; leave the women folks last." The canoe sank to its gunwales with the A SLIP SOMEWHEEE. 311 weight of the four men, but the distance was short, and the surface of the Ohio as calm as that of a mill pond. " Now go back and bring the women," added Kenton to young Ashbridge, who, with- out a word, did as he was told. " Let me congratulate you," remarked Mr. Altman, extending his hand. " On what ?" demanded Kenton. " On conquering the Shawanoe chieftain, The Panther." " Faugh ! he run away ; I haven't seed hide or hair of him." "It's just as well, for he's out of the question." "There's where you're mistook; that's just the trouble, and that's why I'm fetching you ashore." "To do what?" "To cajDture the varmints in the cabin. There's only five of 'em, and one of 'em is hit hard, as I happened to see." " I 'spose you observed who it war dat plugged him, Mr. Kenton. If you didn't — " "Silence!" interrupted Mr. Altman, "don't speak till you are asked a question." 312 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " You done well, younker," remarked the scout of Jethro, who grinned with delight and chuckled at the next remark : " if you'd wanted to kill him, you'd done it, too. What I set out to say was that we're stronger than them varmints in there, and we must drive 'em out. Here are the women !" The mothers and two daughters stepped upon land. This completed the party. No one was left on the flatboat. "Now," explained Kenton, "the women will stay right here where they be ; if danger takes a shape that they're to go back on the flatboat, I'll see that they get there in time. We've got to leave you to yourselves for a while." " And what do you and the rest intend to do ?" asked Mrs. Altman, all listening eagerly for the reply of Kenton. "We're going to surround the cabin and drive out the varmints; it's got to be done purty quick or it won't be done at all. Come on, boys," Kenton led the way, and all the men fol- lowed. BESIEGED AND BESIEGEES. 313 CHAPTER XXVII. BESIEGED AXD BESIEGEES. SIMON KENTON had set out to play what might be termed a daring game of bluff. With far more quickness than would be suj^posed, he stationed his men in the best possible position. It will be remembered that the cabin faced the Ohio, which just there fol- lowed a course almost due east and west. Mr. Altman was placed among the trees to the west of the clearing, or down stream ; Mr. Ashbridge on the eastern side, or up stream ; the scout and young Ashbridge on the northern side, or real front of the building, where the space was open, while Jethro Jug- gens was located among the trees at the rear or to the south of the cabin. "Now," said the scout to each party in turn, "the minute you catch sight of one of 314 SHOD WITH SILENCE. the varmints send a bullet through him to a dead certainty. There are only four, without counting the white man, that amount to any- thing. If we can pick off one or two we'll make a rush and take the house in spite of 'em." These instructions were impressed upon all so plainly that there was no room for misun- derstanding. Even Jethro Juggens compre- hended them, and secretly resolved that from his position he himself would slay the whole four Shawanoes and then stride through the door. In making the disposition of the forces as described, Kenton had a clearly defined object in view. Since the front was commanded by him and young Ashbridge, the most important duty devolved upon the two. The scout placed great confidence in the youth. In fact, the others were not likely to have anything to do beyond watching for a shot at the Indians who had taken possession of the cabin. What- ever decisive action resulted must be on the northern side, in front of the entrance, which, BESIEGED AND BESIEGERS. 315 as explained, was commanded by Kenton and young Aslibridge. To reach a point of observation, the two had to steal along the bottom of the slope upon their hands and knees. Having succeeded in this, they halted for a brief consultation. For the first time the scout explained the meaning of what had taken place. " So The Panther showed the white feather, did he?" was the opening remark of the youth, as they lay flat on the ground, where, by raising their heads a few inches, they could observe the whole front of the cabin. *' It looks that way ; but, younker, I want you to understand one thing ; that infernal Shawanoe ain't afeared of any white man above ground. Him and me has got to meet yet and have it out." " Why did he not do so when he was given the chance?" " 'Cause he.made up his mind he could do a powerful sight better. 'Spose, now, him and me had had a font; he was sartin of taking my skulp, but he knowed that afore he could do that he would git a few scratches himself; 316 SHOD WITH SILENCE. like 'nough he'd be so cut up lie wouldn't be able to help hisself; consequently he'd be useless for a while." "What can he accomplish by running away ?" " His idee is this : He believes there's a large war party of Shawanoes or Wyandots not far off, and he's making the tallest kind of tracks to find 'em. When he does, he'll bring 'em back as fast as they kin travel through the woods. If he arrives soon the only chance for us is to do the tallest travel- ing we kin, and even then the prospect will be powerful agin us." " In other words," remarked the frightened youth, " instead of being satisfied with taking your scalp, he means to kill us all." " You hit the nail on the head that time. That's his idee." " But suppose he had conquered you. Could he not have signaled to those in the cabin, if he was unable to reach them, and send one of them after the reinforcements ? That would have accomplished the same thing, and put you out of the way." BESIEGED AND BESIEGEKS. 317 " That sounds reasonable, and I was hoping The Panther would take the same view, but he didn't. None of his warriors can travel as fast as him, and none of 'em know how to hunt for the war party as he does. He may be right and he may be wrong, but if he brings 'em down here afore we kin get possession we've got to do some tall traveling to keep out of their clutches." "But, Kenton," said the youth, earnestly, " you are running a fearful risk, not for our- selves alone, but for mother and Mabel and for Mrs. Altman and Agnes." " How are we going to help it ?" " Let's leave the neighborhood at once and start for the block-house up the river ; it's only ten miles off." " And them varmints will overhaul us afore we get half-way there." " Not if we wait till night before we start, for they won't be able to trail us. You can take the women in the canoe, while we follow on foot and swim the river." "That's what we'll do if things don't brighten up afore night." 318 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " But our situation will be hopeless if they arrive while we are scattered in this man- ner through the woods and around the clear- ing." " If they do come," said Kenton, who had considered every argument his companion brought forward, " I'll find it out in time and will get the folks back on the flatboat. Then we'll figger out the next step." " And are we to hang around in this fash- ion till night, waiting for something to turn up?" '' Not by a big majority ; something's going to turn up now." Although the scout had not explained one point, it should be stated that he regarded a certain contingency as quite probable. AVith himself and friends guarding all sides of the cabin, one or two ought to be able to gain a fair shot at the Shawanoes. Should this occur, they would be so weakened that Kenton would insist upon a rush and hand-to-hand conflict within the cabin. Furthermore, if it took place, it was most likely to ha^Dpen within a few hours. BESIEGED AND BESIEGEES. 319 The youtli wished to ask more questions, especially as to the prospects, if he and his friends gained possession of the cabin. The Panther, he believed, would return with the war party and besiege the building. The de- fenders would be too strong to be captured by a force ten times as numerous as their own, but provisions would not last forever, and the assailants would be inspired by the strongest of all motives — revenge. But George refrained. The talk might go on forever. It was sufficient to know that Kenton prepared himself to meet the new conditions as they presented themselves. Be- sides, he was about to attempt something he had in mind. Suddenly, the scout leaped from the ground to his full height, and looking toward the cabin, waved his cap above his head and ut- tered a shout of exultation. His action must have caused a sensation among theShawanoes, for it was the first evidence that had come to them of the result of the meeting between the ran2;er and The Panther. Carefully raising his head high enough to 320 SHOD WITH SILENCE. look over the slojoe, young Aslibridge watclied the result. Silence reigned for a few minutes, and then Girty called from one of the upper windows : " Whar's the sculp of Wa-on-mon ?" "I left it on his head," was the truthful reply. " The agreement war that you war to bring it to us." " I don't trust your varmints that fur ; it's 'nough, ain't it, for you to know that I've got mine on my crown ?" " No ; that won't do. Show us the skulp of The Panther, and then we'll leave the cabin to you," said the renegade, speaking for his companions. An impossibility was required of Simon Kenton, but he expected it and was pre- pared. " Send one of your warriors out here to git it." " We hain't any warrior that wants to lose his own skulp, and we won't trust ourselves in your power." " Then you can't expect me to do the same BESIEGED AND BESIEGERS. 321 "with you. I won't go any nearer the cabin till we drive you out," ^ " Drive us out," repeated Girty, contemp- tuously ; " come and try it." " Wal, we'll bold you in there till you'll beg to come out." "All ridit— be^in." " AVe have begun ; look out for yourselves from this time forrard." - As he spoke, the ranger dropped to the ground almost as suddenly as he had leaped to his feet. It was well he did so, for from the same window the voice had come rang the report of a rifle, accompanied by a blue jet of smoke. The bullet whistled over the spot where the scout was standing only a sec- ond before, and striking the surface of the river, skimmed and skipped clean across, burying itself among the leaves on the Ohio shore. "You had a narrow escape," remarked young Ashbridge. " The shot did come rather close, but so long as it missed, what's the odds ?" " That was fired by that white man ; I con- 21 322 SHOD WITH SILENCE. sider him worse than the savages among whom he lives, for he knows better, while some of them do not." Kenton made no reply to this remark, and the youth added : " It's a pity we didn't shoot him yesterday on the flatboat ; I hope I shall have a chance to draw bead on him." Still the ranger held his peace. " Father and Mr. Altman and Jethro will understand the meaning of that shot, won't they ?" " It's not sartin, but what difference does it make? They've been told to shoot when- ever they see a chance of hitting something ; we'll do the same on this side, and, as I obsarved some time ago, if we can thin 'em out a little, why we'll make a rush for the door." " It's too strong to be battered in." " Not if you take the right means to do it." *' I'm ready to join you at any time, but it will be risky business." " The whole business is risky ; if we don't get them varmints out of there before night, BESIEGED AND BESIEGEES. 823 we must strike a bee-line for the block- house. The way I've figgered, younker, is that The Panther can't bring the war party here till sundown, and, afore that comes, I hope Girty and the varmints will be glad to leave." At the distance separating Kenton and Girty, it was impossible for them to arrive at any understanding. If it was the renegade who fired the shot at the moment the scout dropped to the ground, it is hardly likely he would have been pierced had he kept his feet, but the incident served to make Girty " solid " with his companions, who knew of the former friendship between the two. As for young Ashbridge and the other i^io- neers, none of them suspected the truth. The incident was fair notice to both sides that the armistice was at an end ; henceforth, it was bitter war to the end. "Younker," remarked Kenton, after a few minutes spent in close scrutiny of the front of the cabin, *' I don't think there's much show for either of us getting a shot from this side." 324 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " Why not ?" " They know I'm here, and will keep closer watch than anywhere else, or rather will keep more out of sight." " How would it do for you to make a circuit of the clearing?" " I'll do that purty soon if some of the folks don't drop a varmint. We ain't both needed here; the women are lonely, as we had to leave 'em in a hurry ; go over and talk to your mother and sister and Mrs. Altman, and," added the scout significantly, " to Agnes ; she's a powerful nice gal, and they'll be glad to have you." " I thank you for the suggestion ; I'll go ; when you need me give me a whistle." The youth cautiously stole along the foot of the slope, under the slight bank, until he reached his friends. It was at that juncture that the report of a rifle was heard by all. It came from the woods at the rear of the clearing and cabin. " I'll be hanged !" muttered the astonished Kenton, " if that shot wasn't from the rifle of that black younker !" BESIEGED AND BESIEGERS. 325 Sucli was the fact, and strange it was that the most striking experience of any member of the company, after landing from tlie flat- boat, should come to Jethro Juggeus. 326 SHOD WITH SILENCE. I CHAPTER XXVIII. JETHEO JUGGENS ON GUAED. T will be remembered that when Simon Kenton placed his friends so as to sur- round the clearing in which stood the cabin temporarily occupied by the renegade and Shawanoes, he assigned the southern side, or rear, to Jethro Juggens. The pioneer had considerable faith in the marksmanship of the African youth — not alone because of the proof he saw him give (for that might have been a chance shot) — but because young Ashbridge had told him of the exceptional skill of the colored youth. But the ranger had no faith at all in the judgment of Jethro Juggens. In assigning him, therefore, to protect the rear, as ma}'' be said, he did so believing he would be beyond the danger of complicating matters. Jethro found himself alone where the un- JETHRO JUGGENS ON GUARD. 327 dergrowtli was so sparse that he had plenty- freedom of movement. Kenton cautioned him to keep well back among the trees, warn- ing him that he would be fired upon the mo- ment he was seen by any one in the building, but, at the same time, if he saw a head he was to do his best to hit it. " Dar's one little mistake Mr. Kenton hab made," reflected Jethro, after holding his position awhile; "he tinks I'm afeard ob dem heathen. He has put me way back here so as to save me from gettin' shot. He don't know me ; Mr. Kenton means well and am a purty nice chap, but he don't know ebery- ting." With which sage conclusion the African deliberately advanced to the edge of the clearing, and took shelter behind the trunk of a tree large enough to screen a person of double his size. " Now, all I asks am dat dey will gib me a show," he added, fixing his eyes upon the rear of the cabin, and glancing to each of the four narrow windows in turn. " Ob course, I can't shoot one of de varmints, as Mr. Kenton calls 328 SHOD WITH SILENCE. 'em, onless he gibs me a chance, and I hopes if dey am heathen, dey'll be gemmen 'nough to do dat." When the shot was fired from the other side of the structure, Jethro was uncertain from the report whether it was discharged by a friend or enemy. He was glad, however, to hear it, for it betokened *' business." It probably was the fact that the garrison of the cabin were unaware that they were surrounded by the pioneers. The only one that had shown himself was Kenton, who had not returned the shot fired at him. The notice of the state of affairs came to the Shawanoes in the most startling manner con- ceivable. Jethro had held his erect position behind the trunk long enough to become impatient. He muttered his complaints more than once at the timidity, or rather meanness of the heathen, in not affording him a chance to dis- play his marksmanship. All at once, a painted warrior appeared at the lower window, and looked out upon the woods in the rear of the clearing. He could JETHEO JUGGENS ON GUARD. 329 have had no thought of danger, or he would not have exposed himself so recklessly. Nar- row as was the opening, his countenance, one shoulder, and a portion of his naked chest were in full view. Within ten seconds of doino; this rash thins: the report of Jethro Juggens' rifle rang through the woods, and with a rasping screech the warrior leaped in the air and fell over backwards with not a spark of life in his body. He could not have been killed more instantaneously by a stroke of light- ning. " It looks as dough I hit something," mut- tered the dusky marksman, who, in obedience to a sensible rule, kept his station until his gun was reloaded and reprimed. " Now I'm ready agin, and I hopes dey'll all come up in dar turn till dar ain't any left ; I wish dat dat chap dey calls Mr. Girty would be de next." It will thus be perceived that the rene- gade was left with only three able-bodied companions, and both of those shot were the victims of Jethro's rifle. To say the least, 330 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Girty's situation was becoming uncomfort- able. Five minutes later, Mr. Altman thought he had a glimpse of a warrior at one of the windows on the western side of the cabin, and fired. He did no harm, however, but gave emphasis to the shot of the colored youth. While Mr. Altman was reloading his piece, uncertain whether he had done anything of moment, Mr. Ashbridge discharged his gun from the eastern side. He also failed to bring down his man, but he struck him in one of his arms and rendered him hors de combat. If Simon Girty was uncomfortable before, he was now frightened, for the effective force of his garrison was alarmingly reduced. He hastily withdrew the latch-strings, which until then had been hanging out, and began to con- sider with himself what was best to do with the two left to defend the cabin. Meanwhile, Jethro Juggens was on the alert for another opening. One peculiarity of the African's marksmanship was, that he fired with astonishing quickness. It may be JETHEO JUGGENS ON GUARD. 331 said lie sighted his gun while in the act of bringing it to a level. "What de mischief am dat?" he suddenly- asked, jDuzzled more by what he saw than by anything that had occurred since entering in upon this memorable undertaking. Since the only fatal shot had come from the rear of the cabin, Simon Girty concluded that Kenton had shifted his position to that point, and he now attempted to open commu- nication with him. That which aroused the wonder of Jethro was the protrusion of a ramrod through one of the lower windows. Attached to it was a mass of white homesj^un linen, though the person swaying it was invisible. It was Simon Girty himself, who, with the result of the shot from that side of the house before his eyes, took good care not to invite a repetition. Jethro, we rej^eat, was puzzled. He did not associate the display with the action of Kenton in advancing to the front of the building with a flag of truce, and he studied it for some minutes, during which the white 332 SHOD WITH SILENCE. linen continued gently waving back and forth. All at once the dusky face lightened up with the glow of discovery. ''Why didn't I tink ob dat afore? It's plain as de nose on a man's face ; dat white man in dar am trying to dry his shirt." This brilliant intellectual exploit fired the African with a new resolve. " I'm in need ob a shirt, I'm bound to hab dat or git hurt." Under other circumstances, he would have been hurt most assuredly, for, with his gun in his left hand, he ran in a crouching posi- tion toward the cabin, aiming for the corner instead of going in a direct line to the win- dow where the object was still fluttering in plain view. No one seemed to notice his action, for he reached the building unchallenged. There he paused and chuckled. " Dat ere garment b'longs to Jethro Jug- gens; it am a mighty good article, suah." The flag of truce in this instance was really a shirt. Among the plunder taken from the JETHEO JUGGENS ON GUARD. 333 flatboat, which was afterward burned, were a number of coarse, homespun undergarments, such as was the fashion at the time, and were all the product of the spinning-wheel. There w^ere handkerchiefs, too, but Girty, in his eagerness to open negotiations with Kenton, displayed the largest article, with the object of attracting immediate attention. As stealthily as a cat, Jethro stole along the side of the cabin, his head bent low, and his eager eyes fixed on the garment. His fear was that it would be withdrawn before he could secure it. " Dat am a good way to dry a shirt, when yo' am in a hurry — just swing it back and forth in de warm air, and it'll fotch it." A few minutes later he paused directly un- der it. The big hand was softly extended upward, and the instant the fleecy garment swung toward him, he reached out and seized it. Like a flash it was flirted from its support and the caj^tor ran swiftly across the clearing for the shelter of the woods. When Girty felt the flag of truce disap- pear he thought it had fallen of itself. Con- 334 SHOD WITH SILENCE. ficlent that if it had been seen its character would be respected, he rose from his stoop- ing posture and peered through the narrow window. Could he believe his eyes ? A burly negro youth was just vanishing among the trees with the white garment fluttering above his head. Had he understood it, he would have given the audacious thief a shot, but he didn't un- derstand it until after the fellow had safely reached shelter. Then the truth began to dawn upon him. Neither Kenton nor any of the white men had seen his signal, and, therefore, knew not that he was ready to negotiate with them for the evacuation of the fort. The renegade muttered a furious execra- tion, and thrust the muzzle of his rifle through the window, intending to take a shot at the negro, whom he had seen dodge behind a tree, the instant he showed himself. But before he could discover an opening, he detected the muzzle of the African's rifle leveled at himself, and leaped back. JETHEO JUG GENS ON GUARD. 335 Never in all liis adventurous career did Simon Girty have a " closer call " than that. One second more and the frontier would have been rid of probably the most heartily exe- crated miscreant identified with the history of the west. It would have been a mercy could such have been the case. But it was not so to be. Girty's time had not yet come. " I wish Kenton would show himself," mut- tered the renegade, when he recovered from his shock ; " if this thing keeps on much longer thar won't be any of us left; why does Kenton place a fool like that on this side of the cabin ?" Jethro Juggens chuckled over his exploit. " Dat chap am mad as fury and I knows it; dat am a wallyable shirt, and I don't blame him for losin' ob his temper; takes a good while to make de linen for a shirt, and if Marse George don't want it too bad I'll wear it myself Mought as well put it on now." And what did the fellow do while standing behind the tree but don the pilfered garment. 336 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Instead of removing his thin outer coat, he merely took off his broad hat and drew the shirt over his outer garments. "I know dat ain't de fashionable way to wear it," he reflected, surveying himself as best he could, " but if I put it on in de regu- lar way de folks wouldn't be apt to notice it when I went back." He was sufficiently prudent while donning the prize to keep himself out of sight of any one in the cabin. Had he not done so, the indignant Girty would have taken a shot at him, and, according to the law of nations, would have been justified in thus punishing a flagrant violation of the emblem held sacred by all civilized people (excejiting when the great American nation chooses to capture an Indian under it, as was the case with Osceola, the Seminole chieftain and leader). When the garment was adjusted so as to suit the new owner, he picked up his rifle again and resumed his vigilance. ' But he was in an impatient mood. It looked to him as if the one shot he had fired was so successful that the defenders were JETHRO JUGGENS ON GUARD. 337 placed on their guard and would not give him a second opportunity. " A^liat's de use ob stayin' here ?" he finally asked himself. "I mought watch till next week; I'll take a look somewhar else." He began carefully picking his way around the western side of the clearing, hoping to find Kenton, to whom he would make his re- port. Instead of doing so, he came upon Mr. Altman, watchful for another chance at the Shawanoes. When the surprised gentleman recognized Jethro in his unique costume, he demanded an explanation. The youth insisted that he had picked off one of the Indians, and Mr. Altman, aware of his skill with the gun, was inclined to believe him. " Den one ob 'em stuck out dis shirt and begun wavin' it in de air to dry it ; I slipped up when he warn't lookin' and grabbed it." " You did !" exclaimed the astounded gen- tleman, recognizing the curious blunder ; " you don't know what you have done." *' Yes, I do," chuckled Jethro ; " I've got a new shirt — dat's what I've done." 22 338 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " Come with me ; this is of more import- ance than you imagine." " Dat's what I tink," added the youth, fol- lowing him. ON THE FALLEN TEEE. 339 CHAPTER XXIX. ON THE FALLEN TREE. IT can be readily understood that it was a gratifying change for George Ashbridge when he left the side of Kenton and stole along the bottom of the slope to the spot where his mother, sister, Mrs. Altman and Agnes had been left, while the men under- took to bring the Shawanoes in the cabin to terms. The scout showed his thoughtfulness in selecting the hiding-place, as it may be called, for the females of the j)arty. It was among the trees, where there was little undergrowth, so near the river that all could look out on its calm surface, besides watching the flatboat only a short distance away. The vegetation protected them from the sun, which shone with all the fervor of the preceding day, and they were beyond reach of the sharpest-eyed 340 SHOD WITH SILENCE. warrior within the cabin — that is, so long as he did not come out of the building to look at them. A fallen tree afforded a seat for the most of the party. Little Mabel, however, was so tired of her constrained position that she was playing and flitting back and forth, sometimes gathering a wild flower which gleamed here and there near the margin of the river, then arranging twigs and bits of wood and leaves into a semblance of dolls and j^layhouses, the likeness being beyond the power of any other eye to detect. Her parent kept watch of her, that she should not pass beyond her vision. Agnes had made an inviting seat of branches and green leaves on the ground, upon which she forced her wearied mother to seat herself, with her back supported by the fallen tree. As young Ashbridge approached, he saw Mrs. Altman leaning against the trunk with her eyes closed in gentle sleep. Agnes sat on the log near her, as if to watch over her beloved parent during slumber. Mabel ceased her play when her brother ON THE FALLEN TREE. 341 came in sight, and the faces of all brightened at the approach of the handsome, sturdy young man. Leaning his gun against a tree, he caught Mabel in his arms, and kissed her with much affection. "Bless your heart !" he said, as he set her down again ; " we have had so many things to bother us that I haven't had much time to give to you. You seem happy and pleased, Mabel, dear." "I am," was her cheery reply, looking laughingly up in the face of her brother ; " this is a good deal nicer than being on the boat, where you haven't any chance for fun at all ; when are we going into our new house?" '*Some time to-day, I hope," replied the youth, seating himself on the tree, after em- bracing his mother ; "but you mustn't stray off in the woods, for there are bad Indians waiting to catch such nice little girls as you." " I will keep in sight of mamma, for she told me to," was the dutiful reply of the child, who henceforth gave all her attention to amusing herself. 342 SHOD WITH SILENCE. The position of the youth on the fallen tree was between his mother and Alice Altman, who reached up her hand and returned the warm pressure, after he had saluted his mother and turned to seat himself. " Maria and I talked the matter over before she went to sleep," remarked the parent, re- ferring to Mrs. Altman, " and we agreed that of all strange positions in which we have been placed since leaving home, this is the strangest." " There can be doubt of that ; I wonder," added the son, with a smile, " whether any- family settling in the west had to drive the Indians out of their house before going in themselves. I never heard of anything of the kind." " And yet it might have happened for all that," remarked Agnes, "for in what way could we learn a hundredth part of the things that occur every day ?" " In no way at all, but in all cases of which I have heard, it was the Indians that were on the outside trying to get at the people within." ON THE FALLEN TREE. 343 "Mr. Kenton must have hope of driving out the Shawanoes," continued the mother, " but I am afraid we made a sad mistake in not stopping for a time at the block-house, as we were urged to do, until the Indians became quiet." " Kenton has made the same remark to me." " I overheard enough said by him to un- derstand that The Panther, whom he went out in the woods to fight, ran away. Now, won't he be likely to hurry off and bring a good many warriors back to attack us ?" The youth looked admiringly into the bright face of Agnes at his side, as she turned toward him with the question. "You have stated the whole thing just as it stands, Agnes; Kenton has explained it to me. He hopes to drive out the Indians before The Panther can return with his war- riors. And remember we are not really sure he means to do that. When we get in there, with our furniture and provisions, we shall be strong enough to hold it against the big- gest party of Shawanoes that can be brought against us." 344 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " But they may besiege the cabin," sug- gested the mother. " What of it?" coolly asked George. " What will you do for water, which cannot last long?" " Drink all we want ; father and I talked the thing over when we were putting up the house. We concluded that it is a good deal worse to suffer from thirst than from hunger, and we made sure we never could do that. You remember the corner on the right and at the rear, as you look at the cabin from the river ? Well, in that corner is a well, which father and T dug. We had to go down only about a dozen feet when we struck water — plenty of it." " It must connect with the river," said Ag- nes. " No doubt of that ; so the well won't run dry until the Ohio gives out, and when that takes place the ' varmints,' as Kenton calls them, will give out, too. There is plenty of flour and some coffee, tea, sugar, and other things on the boat. Now, if we get them in- side the building, what is to prevent our keep- ON THE FALLEN TEEE. 345 ing the whole tribe of Shawanoes or Wyan- dots off as long as we want to ?" " That sounds feasible enough, mj son, but a danger more dreadful than thirst and all others combined, threatens people in the posi- tion we would be. They would burn the house and every one inside." " I dread that more than anything," added Agnes, with a shudder. " AVell, it's enough to make any one dread it. Father and I talked it over a good many times, when we were putting up the house, and tried to figure on some way of making it proof against fire. We couldn't think of any means, but we did all we could." " What did you do ?" asked his mother. " In the first place, the roof is very steep. No Indian could hold on to it long enouo-h to do anything, for the minute he began mov- ing his hands he would slip off." " And why would he wish to go on the roof?" asked Agnes. *' They do it now and then, so as to help burn the building ; but I'll own they would not be be likely to do it here. The timbers. 346 SHOD WITH SILENCE. however, are very hard, and the burning arrows which they fire would be apt to slip loose and fall to the ground without doing damage." " That might be a partial protection, my son, but it would fail after a time." " We have a much better safeguard than that — one that for a time is sure." Mother and Agnes looked inquiringly at the youth between them. " The timbers are so green," he explained, "that by no possible means could a flame be induced to take hold. The cabin, as it stands just now, is absolutely fire-proof." " How long will it continue so, with the hot summer sun beating down on the roof?" " The roof must become seasoned before long, I'll admit," replied the youth, who was doing his best to combat the hard sense of his mother and Agnes, " and then, in time, it will become so dry that it will burn like tinder ; though it must be a good while before those logs of which the sides are made can be forced into a blaze." " If they never become dry enough for ON THE FALLEN TEEE. 347 that," said the mother, " it would help us not the least if the roof could be fired ; that would be sufficient to burn us all to death without a chance to help ourselves." " The well inside would serve to postpone the dreadful hour." " But only to postpone it, for its coming would be inevitable." Just then Mabel called to her mother to help her arrange a doll-house which j)ersisted in falling down the moment she got the frame- work in shape. The kind-hearted parent hurried to her assistance, kneeling down with her back toward George Ashbridge and Alice Altman. "Alice," said the youth, in a low voice, moving slightly nearer to her, so near, in- deed, that it would have been difficult to lessen the space between them, and taking her hand, " do you think we have made a mistake ?" " I do not know what to think," she re- plied, seemingly unconscious that her delicate fingers were imprisoned by the youth, who fondled and pressed them, " but I do think 348 SHOD WITH SILENCE. that if we knew so sad a condition of affairs were to meet us, your father and mine would have waited awhile before coming to Ken- tucky." " We shall know the conclusion of the mat- ter before the day closes. No one is as wise as Kenton in the ways of the woods, and he will do what is best for us all. He cares little for himself and everything for us." "From what you have been told, I shall feel safe if we succeed in entering the house without harm coming to any one of us. There have been three shots fired, besides the one which came so near hitting Kenton. I have been wondering whether any help is likely to come from the block-house." " I have not asked Kenton about that, but the block-house is so far off that it seems to me we can count on nothing from that source. Capt. Bushwick would be glad to do what he can for us, for he has a number of brave men, but how can he suspect we are in need of help ?" " He knows we have come down the river after his warning us not to do so, and if the ON THE FALLEN TREE. 349 Indians are particularly hostile, he may de- cide to look after us." " Do you know, Alice, I have hnagined it might be the best thing that could happen if the Indians should attack us while we are all in the cabin ?" " And why do you think that ?" " If Kenton stays with us, we shall be so strong that we can beat off any number of assailants, I don't care how many ; the roof and timbers are too green to take fire, and with the well and our stock of provisions to draw upon, we can hold them off for weeks." *' And what then ?" " The lesson will discourage the red men, and they will leave us alone." " It may be so," replied the girl, thought- fully, " but no one of us has been hurt so far, and I feel the good fortune cannot last. If anything should befall father or mother, or — you, it would kill me." " And I would give my life rather than have anything happen to you, Agnes, for," he added, with another gentle pressure of the imprisoned hand, " I love you." . 350 SHOD WITH SILENCE. The sweet face bent lower, and tlie pink cheeks took on a more crimson hue. She was silent, but the heart of the youth gave a quicker, a more delicious throb when he felt the dimpled hand close impulsively around his. No word was spoken, but that gentle, soft pressure was the language of pure affection, and it came from the heart. " Because you are with us, Alice," he con- tinued, '^ I shall fight the harder to prevent even the cold breath of winter or the hot rays of the sun from reaching you. I would give my life to save father, mother, Mabel or you ; do you doubt me ?" " No, dear George, I could not if I wished to." A rustling of the undergrowth caused the two to start and look up. Mr. Altman and Jethro Juggens stood before them. At the same moment, Mrs. Altman, having made the doll-house keep its legs, arose and approached the tree where the lovers sat. " My gracious !" exclaimed the amused George Ashbridge, " where did you get that thing you have on, Jethro ?" ox THE FALLEN TEEE. 351 " Dat's a shirt dat I took away from dat reumgade ; it am mine ; what you think ob it ? doesn't it fit bootiful ?" " It's a flag of truce," said Mr. Altman ; ** signal to Kenton to come here without de- lay ; the crisis is at hand.'* 352 SHOD WITH SILENCE. CHAPTER XXX. CONCLUSION. WITHOUT waiting for further explana- tion from Mr. Altman, George Ash- bridge signaled to Kenton, who was not far oflP. Hardly a minute passed before the ranger was with them. Mr. Altman related the incident of the captured shirt, with which the reader is familiar. Never did any member of the party see the scout laugh so heartily as when he heard this story. He shook from head to foot with silent mirth. Then, mastering himself, he turned and looked at the proud but wondering Jethro, with the outer garment worn as our brother Chinese wear their blouses, and laughed again. But there was a serious side to the matter. The first thing done by Kenton w^as to signal to Mr. Ashbridge to join them. His wife was already awake, and the whole party were now CONCLUSION. 353 grouped in the woods, on the lower side of the clearing. " Girty and the Shawanoes have made up their minds to leave, if we are willing ; I don't 'spose ony one has 'bjections?" " Very far from it," replied Mr. Altman, Mr. Ashbridire noddino; his head. " I doan' know dat I feels any disumjec- tions," said Jethro Juggens, " perwided it am 'ranged dat dis shirt am to stay wid me." "I'll promise you that," replied Kenton, whose partiality for the African was increased by the knowledge that about all the execution done by the party had been by the dusky youth. " No one shall take it from you." " Tank you," responded Jethro, lifting his straw hat and bowing low. " Iqi going forred," added Kenton, " to tell Girty that he and the rest can leave as soon as they want to, and we won't hurt one of 'em as long as they behave themselves. It'll be well, howsumever," he continued, glancing at the men, " to stay right here, with your guns loaded, and on the watch for the var- mints ; they're mighty tricky." 23 354 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Once more the ranger produced his large white handkerchief, and swinging it above his head, passed round to the front of the cabin and advanced toward the building. The renegade was expecting him, and drew the door inward, while the ranger was yet several rods distant. Everything was arranged within the fol- lowing ten minutes. Then followed a strange scene. The door was opened wide and two warriors stepped forth, bearing the uncon- scious form of one of their number between them. It was the body of the one who rashly looked out upon the forest from the rear window when Jethro Juggens was on duty. Then came two others, one limping pain- fully and leaning upon his companion, whose arm had been badly wounded by Mr. Altman. They had found enough material within the cabin to bind up their hurts, and doubtless would recover in time, if they exercised ordi- nary prudence. That was all — ah, no; one remained, the worst savage of them all. Simon Girty, the CONCLUSION. 355 renegade, walked at the rear, as if trying to use the others as a shield against his hidden enemies, though he could not have known from what quarter danger threatened. This remarkable procession moved to the southward, entered the wood near the point where Jethro Juggens had been stationed, and disappeared from sight. Simon Kenton, rifle in hand, stood motion- less, with his eyes fixed on the crippled party until they had vanished. Then he turned and rejoined his friends, all of whom had so far forgotten instructions as to peep through the undergrowth and watch the curiously in- teresting proceedings. "Wal, friends," said the pleased scout, "the varmints are gone, and the way is open." " What is the next step ?" asked Mr. Ash- bridge. " We'll swing the flatboat in to shore, and carry whatever stuff you have into the house. As soon as that is done. The Panther and the rest of 'em can come on as soon as they please." 356 SHOD WITH SILENCE. " But," suggested the bright-witted Agnes Altman, "suppose, Mr. Kenton, they come before we get everything moved into the house." , "That's worth thinking of; if the varmints arrive while we are at work they'll have us foul; instead of my helping you carry the things, I'll let Jethro do my part, while I sarkylate through the woods to make sure The Panther and his friends don't arrive too promiscus like." This seemed eminently sensible, and the plan was commended by all, except, perhaps, Jethro Juggens, who could not view with favor the vast amount of work that confronted him, but he was too wise to make any pro- test. The knowledge that the peerless scout was keeping guard removed the haunting fear that otherwise would have hindered the work of the folks. All set to with right good will and ardor to transfer the furniture, provisions and luggage on the flatboat to the cabin. Two facts will be borne in mind. There CX)NCLUSION. 857 was not a great deal to be removed, and com- paratively a large force to remove it. When Jethro Juggens, Mr. Aslibridge, Mr. Altman and George Ashbrid2;e were loaded down comparatively little was left. Then the women and younger ones did their part, so that within less than two hours not a thing they needed remained in the flatboat. The breaking apart of the craft and the use of the timbers were left to a more convenient season. And so the work was completed without molestation, and without the sound of hostile shot or cry. Unexpectedly to the pioneers, the interior of the building was found uninjured. This was hardly due to any good will on the part of Girty and the Shawanoes ; but, apprehend- ing a possible conflict and siege, it was to their interest to keep everything in order. AVhen the tables were turned, the fear of offending their conquerors restrained the hands that would have been only too willing to ravage and destroy the structure reared with so much labor and pains. 358 SHOD WITH SILENCE. Kenton advanced from the woods on the right, and had started across the clearing to enter the building when he stopjDcd abruptly, for at that moment a man emerged from the woods on the other side, and with a familiar salutation came toward him. This new arrival was a sturdy figure, not so tall as Kenton, but dressed like him and simi- larly armed. He carried his long, heavy rifle over his shoulder, and displayed no hesitation in coming forward. A nearer approach showed the new ar- rival to be a number of years older than Kenton, with eyes as blue as his, a rather thin and long nose, a smooth-shaven face, and a calm, beneficent expression. That he was accustomed to the wilderness and its perils was manifest at a glance. " Howdy ?" said the latter, extending his broad palm, which was warmly clas|)ed by Kenton, who responded : "Never better, Boone; how is it with you ?" '•' The same ; what's happened ?" Kenton briefly related the events of the last twenty-four hours. The picture was worthy CONCLUSION. 359 of the pencil of the artist; for the reader need hardly be reminded that Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton are universally conceded to have been the foremost hunters, scouts, and pioneers identified with the early days of Ohio and Kentucky. They were close friends and remained so through life. Companions often in peril, the heroes of innumerable hair- breadth escapes ; captives themselves to the redmen, but never losing their "grip" upon the infant AYest, they respected and ad- mired each other's bravery and estimable per- sonal qualities too deeply ever to allow a shadow^ to come between them. But, we repeat what we said in the opening chapter, Simon Kenton was the superior in many respects to the elder and more famous pioneer. "I arriv' at the block-house yesterday," said Boone, " a little while after this flatboat had gone past. I'd been out among the red- skins, and found them looking so squally, that I told Captain Bushwick these people were sartin to git into trouble. He agreed with me, and called a lot of the boys together. 360 SHOD WITH SILENCE. We decided to cross the river and come down to the clearing to find out how matters stood." " Wal, how do you find 'em ?" asked Ken- ton. '' All right ; as I would have knowed they would be if you was with 'em, Simon." The young ranger smiled and bowed in recognition of this pointed compliment. " P'raps I've been a little help to 'em," he said, modestly, "but you would have done better, Dan'l." " I couldn't, for you've saved 'em all ; we had a hot scrimmage with a party of Shaw- anoes this morning," "Where?" " Some miles up the river ; we come onto 'em near the spring, where you told me you had the row with The Panther last nisrht." " How many were there ?" asked the deeply interested Kenton. " 'Bout twenty, more or less ; we cleaned 'em out," added Boone, with a flash of the eye, " scattered 'em right and left." " Which way was they coming ?" CONCLUSION. 361 " Toward this point ; but there's nothing to be feared from 'em now." Simon Kenton was vastly relieved. This must have been the war party that The Pan- ther had set out to find and bring to the clear- ing. By Providential direction, Boone and his companions had come upon them ahead of their chief and substantially exterminated them. The fangs of The Panther had been drawn ; nothing was to be feared from him, for a time at least. " Didn't see anything of that varmint they call Wa-on-mon, The Panther, I 'spose ?" " No. If he seed us he kept out of the way." " I'm rather glad of that ; for him and me has got to meet yet, and close up this acount atween us. Where's the boys ?" " In camp, 'bout a mile up the river." " I didn't hear anything of you firing last night," resumed Kenton ; " but the woods are so thick you can't hear a thing like that very fur. Now, the question is, whether these folks had better stay where they are, or go back to 362 SHOD WITH SILENCE. the block-house and wait awhile. What do you think, Dan'l ?" " Let me take a look at 'em, and at the in- side of their house." The two walked to the entrance of the cabin and entered. Boone had been noticed by our friends, and when he was introduced was made most welcome. He talked with them a long time, meanwhile carefully study- ing their means of defence. He was especially pleased with the well that had been dug in the corner. He finally pronounced the little dwelling the best prepared for a successful re- sistance to attack or siege that he had ever seen. " If I had my family here," he finally said, '' even though the Injins were on the war-path all around us, I would stick." That settled the matter. The Ashbrido-es and Altmaus decided to remain and take their chances against the hostility of the redmen, who, from signs noted by Kenton, Boone, and ' other rangers, had unquestionably begun ac- tive hostilities. And this decision having been reached, we CONCLUSION. 363 bid good-by for the present to the pioneers, who at last were established in their new home in the western wilderness. Whether they were wise or unwise in making and following this decision shall be made known to the reader at an early day, by the " Phantom of the Kiver." THE END. 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