Far Past the Frontier Part 7

On the other hand, Ree's quiet disposition seemed almost to disappear in the face of hardships and difficult obstacles. If the cart broke down he whistled "Yankee Doodle," while he managed to mend it. If the road was especially rough and their progress most unpleasantly slow, he was certain to sing. Even Jerry could not fail to catch the spirit of his cheerfulness no matter what bad luck they had, and from looking glum, John would change to light-heartedness every time. Ree's smile was a never failing remedy for his blues.

"Time enough to be blue and all put out when you have utterly failed,"

Ree exclaimed one day. "And if you only make up your mind to it, it is the simplest thing in the world not to fail. If I were the general of an army, I wouldn't own up that I was whipped as long as I had a breath left. Now just suppose that Washington had given up at Valley Forge!"

"Well, I want to say that the chap who starts out west thinking he is going on a frolic, will be mighty badly fooled," John answered. "I am learning, but it is like the Indian who believed powder didn't amount to much unless it was in a gun; so he filled his pipe with it. He learned a heap."

"Ho, ho, pardners both!"

The voice came so suddenly to the young travelers, they started and looked around questioningly. With a flying leap from some brush which bordered the road, came an odd looking woodsman.

"Lift my ha'r if ye ain't the nearest bein' kittens of anythin' I've clapped my old goggles on in the emygrant line in all my born days!"

Putting his hands to his sides the stranger laughed uproariously.

"Oh, it's funny, ain't it!" exclaimed John Jerome, witheringly.

"Age is not always a sign of wisdom," said Ree Kingdom in much the same tone.

"Right ye be, lad; right ye be," said the woodsman, quieting himself.

"But I swan I'm that glad to see ye so young an' bloomin', both, that it jes does me old eyes good. Where ye bound fer, anyhow?"

The speaker was tall and rugged, his age probably fifty years. A grizzled beard cl.u.s.tered round his face and his unkempt hair hung almost to his shoulders. On his head was a ragged c.o.o.n-skin cap. All his dress was made of skin or furs, in the crudest frontier fashion. He was not a disagreeable appearing person, nevertheless, for his eyes twinkled merrily as a boy's. Each in his own way, Ree and John noted these facts.

"I might say that we are going till we stop and that we came from where we started," said John in answer to the stranger's inquiry.

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

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

"Ye've got s.p.u.n.k, I swan!" the fellow exclaimed. "Don't let me be keepin'

ye though; drive along, we kin swap talk as we're movin'."

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

"Well, it ain't so fer as a bird kin fly, an' its ferder than ye want to walk in a day. If ye have good luck ye'll come on to Braddock's road afore supper time, an' if ye don't have good luck, there's no tellin'

when ye'll get thar. It want such a great ways from here that Braddock had _his_ bad luck. If he _hadn't_ had it--if he'd done as George Washington wanted him to, he'd 'a' got along like grease on a hot skillet, same as you youngsters."

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

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

Taking aim, the stranger fired. "Ye'll find the bullet squar' in the center," he said, in a boastful way.

"Shucks!" exclaimed John, who was often too outspoken for his own good.

He raised his rifle and fired. "There's another bullet right beside your own, mister," he said.

"Well I swan! So there is!" called out the woodsman in great surprise.

"But I'll bet a c.o.o.n-skin my tother kitten can't do the like."

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

CHAPTER VII.

On Into the Wilderness.

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

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

"I haven't the least idea, for I don't know who it is," Ree answered.

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

John had remained on guard beside Jerry and the cart, watchful for any sign of their strange enemy, completely mystified by the attack.

Presently he joined Ree and the hunter who were searching for the trail of the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin. Tracks were found at last (high up on the rocky hillside)--those of a white man, for he wore boots; but they were very faint and Ree declared he would waste no time in attempting to follow them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't sell the nag, then; come right along with me. I'll show you the way into a country full of Injuns and game enough to suit ye, in short order; an' ye won't have to pay no pa.s.sage down river. Why, there's jes the spot ye're lookin' for west o' here--rivers an' little lakes, an'

fish an' game--no end o' game. Good place for tradin' too; Injun towns every forty rods or so."

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