CHAPTER VII
INTO THE UNKNOWN LAND
DURING the following two days peace reigned around the humble home ofthe Armstrongs; but this was partly because no one went into the townagain save the father, who came home on the second afternoon leadingtwo horses, at sight of which the boys could hardly repress theirshouts of satisfaction.
This told them that the die was indeed cast, for little need they wouldhave of horses, save as beasts of burden in case of migration. Wagonscould not be used, so O'Mara had declared, because much of the longjourney must be accomplished along those winding buffalo trails thattraversed the forest, for of roads there were absolutely none.
It was at this time there arose a necessity for some supplies, and thebrothers were told to go into town to obtain the same. Apparently Davidhad succeeded in securing the funds he so badly needed, showing thatone staunch friend must have stood by him.
The mother looked wistfully after her boys when they hurried away,filled with new enthusiasm because of the nearness of the time whenthey would depart from the scene of all their woes.
"I do hope they will restrain themselves, and not get into anytrouble," she said to her husband, who was busily engaged with thehorses, a new feature in their experience, and one that gave them muchconcern.
David smiled back, for it seemed to be his turn to comfort.
"Have no fear of the lads, wife," he said heartily. "They are goodboys, and true, of whom we can well be proud. Sandy is o'er impulsive,it is true; but Robert possesses the balance. We have need to bethankful to Providence that we possess two such sons when about tostart upon such a hazardous journey as this."
An hour or so later Pat O'Mara saw the brothers returning. They carriedseveral packages, which constituted their purchases of necessities,simple though these were. But the sharp eyes of the trapper sawsomething more which they were carrying. Several scratches marked theirfaces, and Sandy's left optic seemed to be in a degree of mourning,all of which told the astute Irish trapper that there must have beena fracas of some sort. He knew well those signs; and it was withdifficulty he managed to conceal the grin that forced itself upon hisgenial face.
Of course there could be no concealing these evident marks of battle.Nor did the boys attempt to do so.
"You have been in trouble, son," said the mother, as she took thepackage from Sandy, and looked upon the cuts and scratches on his cheek.
It was Bob of course who showed signs of contrition; Sandy, on theother hand, threw his head back, as though proud of his scars. To himevery one stood for an honor mark.
"I could not help it, mother dear," he said. "They taunted me, three ofthem, and began to strike me. Then Bob came, and it was better, thoughstill uneven. But we were furious, and would not give in; would we,Bob?"
"Who could have been so cowardly and cruel?" asked Mary, as she hurriedto get warm water in a basin, so that the wounds might be properlybathed, and some homemade liniment put upon them.
"Who but that same bully, Armand Whalen," Sandy went on, eagerly. "Oncebefore, Bob whipped him until he cried for mercy, and he has neverforgiven us. But never mind, mother; we gave the cowards all theydeserved. They look much worse than we do; and besides, they ran awayin the end. These little cuts are nothing to us. Surely we have hadothers many times worse."
"Indeed, I am sorry to have displeased you, mother," said Bob; "butthey were all picking on Sandy, and my blood fairly boiled. Had therebeen twice as many it could have made no difference. At any rate, theywill often think of us when we are gone, which is a satisfaction."
At which naive remark the mother found herself compelled to smile. Shecould not be provoked with the boys. And besides, she knew very wellwhat affronts they had continually suffered.
Again she found her eyes drawn irresistibly toward those of herhusband. Upon his face was a set look, as though his mind had been madeup now beyond recall.
"It is the last straw," he said, bitterly; "and the end cannot come anytoo soon now to please me. I shall be glad when we have wiped the dirtof this place from our shoes. Boys, you did what any manly lad wouldfind himself compelled to do. I am not blaming you one bit. But afterthis you must remain at home."
"But father, there is news," said Bob, as he suddenly remembered.
"They are coming here then, those brave souls from Carolina, who headtoward the setting sun?" asked David, showing the eagerness thatpossessed his soul.
"Yes," returned the boy; "a messenger has arrived in town from the headman in charge of the expedition, warning all who mean to accompany themthat they will arrive in three days, and only stop twenty-four hours.This is the last settlement. When they leave here, it will be to enterthe wilderness."
"Glory be!" exclaimed the trapper, upon hearing this. "Then we willsoon be on our way, with all our troubles behind."
The good wife sighed. She did not anticipate such glorious things asbeckoned the others on. Perhaps she had forebodings in her gentleheart that the new perils all pioneers must face might prove even moreformidable than those they were leaving behind; and that perchance oneof her loved ones might find an early grave in that new land, a victimto the treachery of the red men.
But not for worlds would she utter one discouraging word. There seemedno other course open to them; and the women of that day were every oneof them heroines, capable of enduring untold suffering in the search ofa place they could call home.
Two days afterwards, as promised, the emigrants made their appearance.David had gone out to meet them on one of the horses.
"Fetch them here to camp beside our spring," his wife had told him;"for we may be the only family meaning to join our fortunes withtheirs."
And sure enough, they camped near the cabin in the clearing, a roundthree dozen in all, including some five more or less sturdy boys withwhom Bob and Sandy fraternized at once.
Then began a period of bustle, as the last preparations were undertakenby the Armstrongs. Some of their things they gave in charge of the onefaithful neighbor who had remained true to them through good and evilreport. Perhaps at some day an opportunity might arise whereby theseprecious, if bulky, heirlooms in the way of furniture could be broughtout to their new home. Just now such a thing was not to be consideredfor a moment.
And then the last morning broke.
The brothers were brimming over with excitement, nor did they feel anyparticular pain over quitting the place they had for so long calledhome. It had ceased to have attraction for them since this shadow hadfallen; and they believed they would be happy to leave it forever.
David Armstrong, too, managed to conceal what feeling he may have had.But with the little mother it was different. That humble log cabinmeant much to her, for inside those stout walls she had spent severalfairly happy years; but she put these sad thoughts away with a resolutehand whenever David was near. They would do to dream over when utterlyalone, perhaps in the dark watches of the night, in a new country, andamid strangers.
All was bustle and confusion. A few of the town people had come out tosee the start of the expedition, and many were the remarks that weremade concerning the possibilities that awaited the daring travellers.
In this hour of parting some of the neighbors, possibly overcome bycontrition, tried to make amends for their recent cruel conduct, butDavid ignored all signs of friendly handshakes, and would have none ofthem. The iron had eaten too deeply into his soul.
The pack train of horses looked quite formidable when lined up for thestart.
"Twelve of them in all!" Sandy sang out, as he stood ready to urge hisanimal on when the leader gave the order to start.
A hardy gathering of valiant souls the emigrants looked just then.Fortune beckoned to them, and all seemed delightful. If they could onlyhave looked ahead a few months, and seen the terrible dangers that layin wait, doubtless many a smile would have faded from the faces thatnow looked so cheerful.
"Hurrah!" shouted the boys, when finally the word passed along theline, and those in the lead began t
o move.
But there were no cheers. Those grave-faced men realized only too wellthat in thus putting their fortunes to the touch, by venturing intothat unknown world of which so much had been told, they were carryingnot only their own lives, but also those dear to them, in the hollow oftheir hands.
The caravan moved away amid the sound of many voices, as the boys urgedtheir pack steeds along. Never once did Sandy glance back toward thehome he was leaving; he seemed given up entirely to the witchery of theadventure.
But one pair of eyes turned for a last wistful look at the familiar logcabin, with the grand old oak hovering above its humble roof, that hadsheltered her little brood so faithfully these years. And then a turnin the trail shut out the view. Mary Armstrong heaved a sigh, and thenresolutely strove to think only of what might be in store for them inthe new world to which they were journeying.