On the Kentucky Frontier Part 7

"Now you are takin' me too seriously," he replied with another laugh which disarmed me of anger. "It was high time you made ready for the tramp, an' I'm pleased to see you so quick at a call. He who finds it hard to shake the sleep from his eyes should remain in towns where he need not hold a rifle ever at hand in order to save his life. Look at yonder would-be settler," he added in a whisper, and I glanced in the direction of his outstretched finger, where was Mr. Sampson, yawning and stretching as if struggling to gather his senses. "Is it strange the painted brutes captured such as he with but little difficulty?"

Paul was no such sluggard. He had risen at the same time I did, and now stood near the door on the alert for whatever might come his way.

I could hear my mother moving about in the loft, and knew she would soon be down to cook breakfast, after which, as I understood the plan, we were to begin the journey.

"Have the savages left us?" I asked of the young scout.

"Ay, so it seems, though I'm not overly eager to believe it without better proof than that we've heard nothin' from 'em since you went to sleep. Stand you here ready for anything that may turn up, an' I'll have a look round."

He unbarred the door as he spoke, and when he had stolen softly out I stood guard in his place, with Paul close by my side.

Not until the morning meal had been cooked and was spread on the table did Simon Kenton return, and the news which he brought gave me a sense of deepest relief.

"The dose we gave 'em last night was enough," he said, leaning his rifle against the side of the hut as he took a seat at the table without waiting for an invitation. "Now is the time for us to start, for there's no knowin' how soon the brutes may take it into their ugly heads to come back."

"Are we to leave all our belongings here?" I asked, looking around at the scanty store of furniture, the greater portion of which my father had made.

"Better them than your hair," Simon Kenton replied. "If the snakes come this way again they'll make short work of the cabin an' all that's in it, whether you be here to make a show of defendin' it or not. In case they stay away, the stuff will be safe where it is, if we take care to keep out the wild beasts."

There was a look of pain on my mother's face which I knew had been caused by the thought of leaving behind her scanty goods; but she gave no words to her sorrow, joining with the young scout in the conversation concerning the day's tramp.

When the meal had been eaten, and mother tidied up the cabin a bit, we went out into the sunlight, closing door and window shutter behind us, as if counting on returning before nightfall.

Simon Kenton took the lead, and then was begun the long march which did not end until late in the night.

We made few halts, and then only for a few moments at a time. We ate as we walked, forcing our way through the dense underbrush, and ever on the alert against danger.

Mr. Sampson more than once insisted that the pace was killing him; he declared, when the day was half spent, that it would be impossible for him to walk half a mile farther; but when Kenton quietly suggested that he might halt wheresoever he chose, and follow our trail the next morning, he came to the conclusion that perhaps he might keep his feet a short time longer.

Paul was as cheery a companion as one could desire. Although he was foot-sore and weary, as I knew full well, not a word of complaint came from his lips, and before the day was ended I knew Simon Kenton had begun to love the lad even as I already did, for he whispered once when we were well in advance of the others:

"That boy is worth a dozen such men as his father. He has got true pluck, an' I'll warrant you wouldn't hear him whine even when he'd fallen in his tracks worn out."

There is no reason why I need say how my mother bore her share of the fatigue. She was a brave, true woman, and when any task, however great, was to be done, went at it with a will and in silence, or with cheery words.

When, at a late hour in the evening, we were come opposite Corn Island, and had found one of Major Clarke's force who was willing to ferry us across the river, I was more astounded than words can express, for it was as if I had suddenly emerged from the wilderness to find myself in a populous town.

No less than twenty families had come down with the volunteers, and were encamped together, nearby where the men had their quarters. Counting men, women and children, there could not have been less than four hundred and fifty people, three times as many as I had ever before seen in one place.

The greater portion of this gathering was asleep; but I could well fancy what bustle and confusion there must be when all were moving about, and the mere idea bewildered me.

Simon Kenton led us directly to the hut set apart for the use of Major Clarke, and there introduced us to the commander of the expedition, who bid us welcome in such a hearty fashion that even Mr. Sampson must have forgotten what he had said about "accepting charity."

Mother was taken in charge by some of the women, and we four, meaning Simon Kenton, the Sampsons, father and son, and myself, were given the use of a lean-to made of brush--not a substantial shelter; but to me, who had well-nigh come to an end of my endurance, it was most inviting.

Even Kenton himself felt the effects of the long tramp; and we indulged in no conversation that night, each member of the party falling asleep as soon as he was on the ground.

Paul and I were early abroad next morning. To him there was no novelty in such a throng, for he told me solemnly that he had seen in Maryland many more people bent on merrymaking than could be found on Corn Island, and I was forced to believe the lad, although it hardly seemed possible.

As I have said, there were no less than twenty families who had come down with the major's force to find homes in the wilderness, and, learning in some way, I know not how, that I was the son of a settler, many of them gathered around to learn how we had fared on our clearing.

There was more than one pale face among the women and younger children when I told of my father's death, and I dare say but few would have remained to build homes nearabout the Ohio River if it had been possible for them to get back to the settlement they had just left.

Mr. Sampson appeared like a different man now that he was with a throng of people. He no longer seemed to think it necessary he should return to Maryland, where a wife and two children awaited his coming; but declared that he would join his fortunes with those who counted on building up a village on the frontier.

Paul kept close by my side as I talked with the men concerning the expedition on which Major Clarke was to lead them, and when, late on that first day in camp, I told him of my intention to join the force as a volunteer, he declared that nothing would please him better than to be my comrade.

"If my father is willing, I shall go," he said quietly; but in a tone which told me that he was one with a will of his own, and not likely to be led by the nose against his own desire or inclination.

At the first opportunity I sought out Simon Kenton to tell him of Paul's plans, and the young scout said heartily:

"I like the lad, and will be glad to have him with us, although for a time he may cost us some trouble."

"He is quick to learn, I fancy, and by observing those around him, will soon be able to get about in a proper fashion," I replied confidently, whereupon the scout surprised me by saying:

"There will be none save you an' me for him to see."

"What then will have become of all this gathering?" I asked in astonishment.

"They will be far behind us, lad. Was it in your mind that I would march in line like a soldier?"

"What else can you do?"

"Remain in advance to make certain no danger threatens. You and I will act as scouts; I reckon there may be others, but I have been hired to conduct all this party, first to the British outpost at Kaskaskia, and then to Cahokia."

"You alone?" I cried, overwhelmed to learn that this young fellow was of so much importance in the eyes of a soldier like Major Clarke.

"Not alone, for I count on takin' one Louis Nelson with me, an' he has it in mind that Paul Sampson will make the third."

"But I am far too ignorant to share such an important duty!"

"The lad who is willin' to face a gang of painted wolves such as besieged your cabin, and to do so almost single-handed, gives promise of bein' a comrade to my likin'. We'll lead the men, Louis, an' I dare venture to say there'll be no ambush we shan't scent out before the murderin' redskins succeed in doing any mischief."

"And are you willing to take Paul Sampson?" I asked, still in a maze of bewilderment.

"Aye, that I am, an' venture to say he'll turn out to be your equal after a little experience."

I could hardly contain myself for joy at the thought that mine was to be a man's work; but ran off at full speed to make my mother acquainted with what I believed was rare good fortune.

She, kind soul, was saddened because such an opportunity had presented itself to me, and although she spoke not a word against the enterprise, I understood what was in her heart, and said quickly, even though it cost me a pang to utter the words:

"You are not pleased, mother, and I had thought it would make you glad because Simon Kenton had so much of faith in me. I will tell him I cannot go, and you may forget I have spoken of it."

The tears were very near her eyelids as she drew me closer and said softly, hardly daring to trust her voice:

"I would not keep you, my son, even though the parting give me great pain. On the frontier boys must speedily learn to be men, and it may be best for you to go. Perhaps we will join these settlers who intend to build up a town nearby, when you come back covered with glory."

"Now you are making sport of me, mother," I replied reproachfully.

"There is no glory to be gained in fighting savages."