The Phantom of the River Part 31

"I don't understand you, parson."

"Perhaps it is better that I shall not attempt to explain, but, if possible, remember my words."

"I think that to make sartin there's no slip on my part, I'll go to the rock now."

"I'll go with you."

It was a brief walk to the place fixed upon for the meeting, and both were so familiar with the ground, or rather the sh.o.r.e of the river (for it has been explained that the missionary knew little about Rattlesnake Gulch itself), that it required only a few minutes for them to proceed directly to the place.

"I'll leave you here and return to Wa-on-mon," said Finley; "G.o.d be with you, and, if you can, remember what I said just now."

Kenton returned his salutation, and without further words they separated.

On his return to the Shawanoe camp the good man used extreme caution for a time, as though fearful of being detected by some of the warriors whom he was seeking. When certain at last that no human eye saw him, he knelt in the midst of the solemn wood, and poured out his soul in prayer to the only One who could aid him in his dire perplexity. He spent a long time alone and in communion with his Maker, and then, much strengthened in spirit, he pressed forward with the same openness as before, until once more he stood in the Shawanoe camp.

Little change had taken place during his absence. Instead of most of the warriors walking about all were seated--some sleeping, but the majority awake and talking with each other.

Little Mabel was still unconscious, but instead of reclining on the log she lay on the leaves close to the fallen tree, one chubby arm doubled under her cheek, her slumber as sweet and restful as if in her trundle-bed at home.

Since it was not reasonable to think the little one had made this change of position herself, it must have been done by one of the Shawanoes. An odd suspicion came to the missionary that it had been done by The Panther, but he deemed it unwise to inquire, so the truth was never known.

But nothing escaped the eye of Finley. He noticed the chieftain sitting apart talking with four warriors, and two of them were not in the camp when the missionary left it. They had come in while he was away. Most likely they were scouts that had been watching the movements of the pioneers on the other side of the river. It was fortunate if it was so, for they must have brought news that the fugitives had ceased any effort to reach the block-house, and were quietly waiting until the missionary or Kenton, or both, had returned with their tidings.

Finley endeavored to approach near enough to the group to catch something that was said, but the chief and his warriors were too cunning to permit this. Not wishing to interrupt, he seated himself on the fallen tree to wait until Wa-on-mon was ready to talk to him.

The chief did not keep him waiting. Leaving the warriors, he came over and sat down beside him, the moccasins of the savage so close to the curly head that a motion of a few inches would have touched it with his toe.

The Panther did not glance at the little sleeper, and it would be unwarrantable to suppose that any feeling akin to pity glowed within that sinister breast, which burned and seethed with a quenchless hatred of the people that were trying to drive the red men from their hunting grounds. Nevertheless, Missionary Finley clung to the belief that it was Wa-on-mon that had lifted the child from her hard seat on the log and deposited her so gently upon the leaves that her slumber was not disturbed.

"Has my brother seen the white hunter?" asked Wa-on-mon, speaking in a much lower tone than was used in the former interview.

"He parted with him a short time ago."

"Is his heart glad that Wa-on-mon will meet him?"

"His heart flows with joy," replied Finley, with deep depression that such should be the truth, over the prospect of so shocking an event.

"He will not run away?"

"Did he do so yesterday?" was the stinging question of the missionary, which struck the Shawanoe hard; "he is so afraid he will not be at the rock in time that he has gone there to await the coming of Wa-on-mon; he is there now; Wa-on-mon will find him when he goes thither."

"Wa-on-mon will be there when the sun rises from its bed; he will not keep the white hunter waiting."

"And the pale-faces that have crossed to the other side of the river will tarry there till the missionary returns to them."

"My brother speaks with a single tongue," remarked The Panther, thereby uttering another strong tribute to the integrity of his visitor.

"Does he not always speak with a single tongue?" asked Finley, feeling warranted in pushing the chieftain, now that the all-important question had been settled.

"He does," was the prompt response of the fiery sachem, who thereby plumply contradicted what he had said a short time before.

This, in a certain sense, might have been gratifying to the missionary, had not his knowledge of Indian nature told him unerringly the cause of the exultant mood of The Panther. Simply, he was gratified at the prospect of meeting the white man in mortal combat, for he held not a shadow of doubt that the career of Kenton was already as good as ended.

An hour or so, and the famous ranger would vex the red men no more.

It has been made plain to the reader that the vicious miscreant was anything but a coward. The events that had since occurred fully justified his failure to meet Kenton upon the former acceptance of his challenge.

"The man's confidence in himself is unbounded; he does not think it possible he can fail to overcome Simon. It will be a fearful struggle when they do meet, and I shudder at the thought. Can it be that Simon underestimates the prowess of Wa-on-mon? I hope not, and yet, I fear--I fear."

Within the following hour a dim, growing light began showing in the eastern part of the heavens. Day was breaking.

"Wa-on-mon goes to meet the white hunter," said the chieftain, much as a groom might have announced his going forth to greet his bride.

He made no farewell to the other warriors. He had explained everything to them and nothing was to be added. His words were addressed to the missionary, who was so oppressed by the situation that he could make no response, excepting a silent nod of his head.

"Wa-on-mon will soon return," added the exultant Shawanoe, as if determined that his visitor should speak.

"How soon?" the latter forced himself to ask.

"When the sun appears there," said The Panther, indicating a point, by extending his arm, which the orb would reach within an hour after rising. "Wa-on-mon will come back, bringing the scalp of the white hunter with him. If he is still absent when the sun is there, the missionary may take the hand of the captive and go back to his people.

The Shawanoe warriors will not stand in his way."

It would be vain to attempt to depict the anguish of the dreadful minutes that followed. Missionary Finley underwent a struggle that was the keenest agony he had ever known. Most of the warriors dropped off in slumber. Included with these were those who had been wounded, and who seemed to have the faculty of overcoming their sufferings to a remarkable degree.

Three remained awake to attend the fire and guard the camp. Little Mabel Ashbridge slept on in blissful ignorance of the awful fate impending over her childish head. Only the good man himself suffered a torture beyond the power of words to describe.

He glanced upward through the leaves continually. At the very moment the sun reached the point indicated by Wa-on-mon, the undergrowth parted and the chieftain himself strode forward. And as he did so the missionary saw on his countenance an expression that he had never noted before.

CHAPTER XXIX.

SQUARING ACCOUNTS.

When Simon Kenton was left alone by the missionary, who had been the means of bringing about this hostile meeting, he knew that a full hour must pa.s.s before his mortal enemy, The Panther, would reach the spot.

The ranger was in need of sleep, and he did a thing which, while the most sensible act he could perform under the circ.u.mstances, was certainly extraordinary; he sat down on the ground, with his back against a tree, closed his eyes in slumber, and did not open them again until the hour had pa.s.sed. He possessed that ability, which almost any one can acquire, of awaking at any time previously fixed upon.

Day was breaking, its light steadily spreading and diffusing itself through the surrounding forest and filling the summer sky with an increasing glow. Kenton deliberately arose, drank from the neighboring river, bathing his hands and face in it, and then sauntered to the spot where he expected to meet the dusky miscreant who was equally eager to cross weapons with him. Leaning his rifle against a tree, the ranger took a position and att.i.tude in which nothing could approach or pa.s.s without being noted by him.

"The parson is the best man in the world," he mused; "there ain't another white man that dare go visitin' 'mong the varmints like him, for they trust him just as his own kith and kin do.

"When I seed him walk out of the wood, right by them other varmints and straight up to The Panther, I was sartin it was all over with him, and he was in for his last sickness sure. The Panther had just had things slip up on him in a way that must have made him mad enough to bite off his own head, but the parson fixed it, and The Panther and me are bound to meet this time.

"There must be something in that thing which he preaches," continued the ranger, musingly, "which ain't like other things. What he says. .h.i.ts one so powerful hard that it makes me feel quar. It makes him love the varmints, the black people and the white all alike; it makes him leave his home and spend days or weeks in the wood, just as Boone done afore he brought his family to Kentucky.

"What did the missionary mean by tellin' me a brave man is merciful? I wonder whether he had any talk with The Panther? It would be just like him to do so, but it was time throwed away. Howsumever, his words to me stick in my ears, and keep going back and forth as nothin' that was ever said to me afore has done.

"The Panther is full of grit; when he comes I'll make him b'leve I think he was scared and run off. That'll make him so mad, he'll fight harder than ever, which is what I want.