In The Boyhood of Lincoln Part 13

"Let me tell you a story now," said Thomas Lincoln.

"Of course you will," said Aunt Indiana. "Thomas Lincoln never heard a story told without telling another one to match it; and Abe, here, is just like him. The thing that has been, is, as the Scriptur' says."

_AN ASTONISHED INDIAN._

"Well," said Thomas Lincoln, "I hain't no faith at all, elder, in Injuns. I once knew of a woman in Kentuck, in my father's day, who knew enough for 'em, and the way that she cleared 'em out showed an amazin'

amount of spirit. Women was women in Daniel Boone's time, in old Kentuck. The Injuns found 'em up and doin', and they learned to sidle away pretty rapid-like when they met a sun-bonnet.

"Well, as I was sayin', this was in my father's time. The Injuns were prowlin' about pretty plenty then, and one day one of 'em came, all feathers and paint, and whoops and prancin's, to a house owned by a Mr.

Daviess, and found that the man of the house was gone.

"But the wimmin-folks were at home--Mrs. Daviess and the children. Well, the Injun came on like a champion, swingin' his tommyhawk and liftin'

his heels high. The only weapon that the good woman had was a bottle of whisky.

"Well, whisky is a good weapon sometimes--there's many a man that has found it a slow gunpowder. Well, this woman, as I was sayin', had her wits about her. What do you think that she did?

"Well, she just brought out the whisky-bottle, and held it up before him--_so_. It made his eyes sparkle, you may be sure of that!

"'Fire-water,' said she, 'mighty temptin'.

"'Ugh!' said the Indian, all humps and antics and eyes.

"Ugh! Did you ever hear an Injun say that--'Ugh?'

"'Have some?' said she.

"Have some? Of course he did.

"She got a gla.s.s and put it on the table, and then she uncorked the bottle and _handed_ it to him to pour out the whisky. He lost his wits at once.

"He set down his gun to pour out a dram, all giddy, when Mrs. Daviess seized the shooter and lifted it up quick as a flash and pointed to his head.

"'Set that down, or I'll fire! Set that bottle down!'

"The poor Injun's jaw dropped. He set down the bottle, looked wild, and begged for his life.

"'Set still,' said she; and he looked at the whisky-bottle and then slunk all up in a heap and remained silent as a dead man until Mr.

Daviess came home, when he was allowed to crawl away into the forest. He gave one parting look at the bottle, but he never wanted to see a white woman again, I'll be bound."

"You ridicule the Indian for his love of whisky," said the Tunker, "but who taught him to love it? Woe unto the world because of offenses."

"h.e.l.lo!" said John Hanks, starting up. "Here comes Johnnie Kongapod again, from the Illinois. I like to see any one from Illinois, even if he is an Indian. I'm goin' there myself some day. I've a great opinion of that there prairie country--hain't you, elder?"

"Yes, it is a garden of wild flowers that seems as wide as the sky. It can all be turned into green, and it will be some day."

Aunt Indiana greeted the Indian civilly, and the Tunker held out his hand to him.

"Elder," said Aunt Indiana, "I must tell you one of my own experiences, now that Johnnie Kongapod has come--the one that they bantered me about over to the smithy. Johnnie and I are old friends. I used to be a kind of travelin' preacher myself; I am now--I go to camp-meetin's, and I always do my duty.

"Well, a few years ago, durin' the Injun troubles, there was goin' to be a camp-meetin' on the Illinois side, and I wanted to go. Now, Johnnie Kongapod is a good Injun, and I arranged with him that he should go with me.

"You didn't know that I wore a wig, did ye, elder? No? Well, most people don't. I have had to wear a wig ever since I had the scarlet fever, when I was a girl. I'm kind o' ashamed to tell of it, I've so much nateral pride, but have to speak of it when I tell this story.

"Johnnie Kongapod never saw a wig before I showed him mine, and I never showed it to him until I had to.

"Well, he came over from Illinois, and we started off together to the camp-meetin'. It was a lovely time on the prairies. The gra.s.s was all ripe and wavin', and the creeks were all alive with ducks, and there were prairie chickens everywhere. I felt very brisk and chipper.

"We had two smart horses, and we cantered along. I sang hymns, and sort o' preached to Johnnie, when all at once we saw a shadow on the prairie like a cloud, and who should come ridin' up but three Injuns! I was terribly frightened. I could see that they were hostile Injuns--Sacs, from Black Hawk. One of them swung his tommyhawk in the air, and made signs that he was goin' to scalp me. Johnnie began to beg for me, and I thought that my last hour had come.

"The Injun wheeled his pony, rode away, then turned and came dashin'

towards me, with tommyhawk lifted.

"'Me scalp!' said he, as he dashed by me. Then he turned his horse and came plungin' towards me again.

"Elder, what do you think I did? I s.n.a.t.c.hed off my bonnet and threw it upon the ground. Then I grabbed my wig, held it up in the air, and when the Injun came rushin' by I held it out to him.

"'There it is,' said I.

"Well--would you believe it?--that Injun gave one glance at it, and put spurs to his horse, and he never stopped runnin' till he was out of sight. The two other Injuns took one look at my wig as I held it out in my hand.

"'Scalped herself!' said one.

"'Took her head off!' said the other. 'She conjur's!'

"They spurred their horses and flew over the prairie like the wind.

And--and--must I say it?--Johnnie Kongapod--he ran too; and so I put on my wig, picked up my sun-bonnet, and turned and came home again.

"There are some doughnuts, Johnnie Kongapod, if you did desert me.

"Elder, this is a strange country. And don't you believe any stories about honest Injuns that the law condemns, and that go home to see their families overnight and return again; you will travel a long way, elder, before you find any people of that kind, Injuns or white folks. I know.

I haven't lived fifty years in this troublesome world for nothin'.

People who live up in the air, as you do, elder, have to come down. I'm sorry. You mean well!"

Johnnie Kongapod arose, lifted his brown arm silently, and, bending his earnest face on Jasper, said:

"_That_ story is true. You will know. Time tells the truth. Wait!"

"Return in the morning to be shot!" said Aunt Olive. "Injuns don't do that way here. When I started for Injiany I was told of a mother-in-law who was so good that all her daughters' husbands asked her to come and live with them. They said she moved to Injiany. Now, I have traveled about this State to all the camp-meetin's, and I never found her anywhere. Stands to reason that no such story as that is true. You'll have to travel a long way, elder, before you find any people of that kind in these parts."

Whom was Jasper to believe--the confident Indian or the pioneers?

CHAPTER VII.

THE EXAMINATION AT CRAWFORD'S SCHOOL.