CHAPTER VIII
SIMON KENTON, THE BORDERER
WHEN the boys returned to the settlement, bringing with them the buck,and accompanied by Simon Kenton and his two companions, they werewarmly greeted.
The story of how Sandy had braved the three crafty French trappers soonwent abroad, and many congratulated the boy on his firm stand. Theyknew well that it was this secret French influence which was doing somuch to make the Indians dig up the hatchet that had been buried at thetreaty of Fort Stanwix some years previous; and in every breast existedthe same detestation for the cowardly traders who, for the sake ofgain, would encourage the savages to resort once more to the torch, andthe murderous tomahawk.
Several men vanished from the post shortly after the boys returned. Itwas suspected that they had banded together with the idea of pursuingthe trio of Frenchmen, and putting it out of their power to carry theirnews to other Indian villages; for Pat O'Mara, who was one of thisband, declared it to be his belief that these men were messengers, sentto bear the wampum belt of the great leader, Pontiac, to chiefs whowere even then hesitating over what to do.
The men came back on the next day, and, while none of them wouldsay a word about the result of their mission, it was not believedthat success had followed them, for they exhibited no symptoms ofsatisfaction.
Simon Kenton was a great favorite in this Ohio River settlement. Asthe boon companion of the leading pioneer he would have been warmlywelcome; but, besides that, he had such a genial nature that he madefriends wherever he went. Contact with Daniel Boone was also doingwonders for this fine young borderer. By slow degrees he was conqueringhis numerous faults in the line of hasty temper, and quick action, thatin the past had brought him so much trouble.
His place among the men of the early days along the great river haslong been recognized in history. While he lacked some of the wonderfulqualities that made Boone beloved among the whites, and both feared andrespected by the Indians, still Kenton has always held a strong placein the affection of those who know the wonderful exploits with whichhis life was crowned.
Although Kenton was possessed of a particularly amiable dispositionamong his friends, it is likely that his equal for recklessnesswas never known. History tells us that, during the course of hisadventurous life along the border with Boone, and alone, he many timesfell into the hands of the Indians, though they seemed unable to holdso slippery a customer.
Eight times he was condemned to run the gauntlet, always one of themost cruel of the Indian inventions of horror; three times was he tiedto the stake, sentenced to be burned alive; and once he was nearlyslain by an ax.
And yet, in spite of all these things, Simon Kenton lived to a greenold age, dying in 1836 within sight of the very spot where the Indians,fifty-eight years before, had made preparations to torture him todeath. (Note 3.)
While at the settlement of our friends Kenton and his two comrades madetheir headquarters in an empty cabin, deserted by a settler who hadgone back to the fair fields of Virginia because his wife grieved forher family, and was too timid to stay where at any hour they couldexpect to hear the wild whoops of hostile Indians.
Of course, as soon as it could be done in secret, the head men of thesettlement sought to find out from Kenton whether the news brought byPat O'Mara was founded on facts, or the result of a lively imagination.
"I have been in the eastern country," replied the forest ranger,seriously; "and can only say this, that thar are all the signs of a bigoutbreak. Down in Kentucky Boone has had to be on the defensive all thetime, because the Shawanees did not feel themselves bound by the FortStanwix treaty. My friends, I regret to say to you that the outlook isdark. Be on your guard. If this winter passes without a general war onthe part of half a dozen tribes, some of us will believe that we arepoor prophets."
And, later on, he told in detail what he and his friends had seen andheard. The news was distressing to these people, so many hundreds ofmiles away from help, and dependent on themselves alone to combat thegathering clouds.
But there were brave hearts among those early pioneers. Even thewomen refused to believe that they were to be overwhelmed, and made toperish from the face of the earth. From such stock have our forefatherssprung, and, looking back, we have need of every adjective at ourcommand to express admiration for the valor of these Ohio pioneers.
David Armstrong felt that he had much to be thankful for in those days.His wife and little family were in perfect health; but there was onething that seemed to be giving the pioneer anxiety.
Never did any one come from over the distant mountains but that Mr.Armstrong was eagerly inquiring whether the newcomer carried a letterfor him. Thus far disappointment had always been his portion; yet,after each period of deep despondency, he would once more pick up freshhope, and it was usually the brave soul of his gentle wife that put newambitions in his breast.
Years ago in Richmond, Mr. Armstrong had been tricked by a cousin,in whom he placed implicit confidence. The result had been that thisrascal had virtually stolen all of Mr. Armstrong's heritage, which hehad brought from the old country.
David had gone to law about it, but, even in this early day, thedelays were most vexatious; and for years had the case been pending.Mr. Armstrong never lost hope that, in the end, it would be decided inhis favor, and that he would be summoned to Richmond to take back thatwhich had been fraudulently wrested from his hands.
He indulged in many rosy-tinted dreams of what wonderful things hewould bring back with him, to add to the happiness of his little brood,should such a wonderful piece of good luck come his way.
Mary and he had decided that they liked this beautiful country too wellto ever return again to Virginia. Come what would, they belonged hereon the river that flowed between forest-clad banks into the golden west.
Pat O'Mara still hung about the settlement, though at any time he wasapt to disappear. While present, he made his home with the Armstrongs,and there never was a more welcome guest at a pioneer's cabin than theIrish trapper with these good friends.
Bob and Sandy took him over the line of their traps, and learned manyclever little tricks that would count when the real time came fortaking fur-bearing animals. Up to now their efforts in that line hadbeen more in the way of experiments, so as to get used to handlingtraps, and keeping the sly little animals from scenting the presence ofhuman beings around their haunts.
Kenton and his friends had gone on their way. They were reallyscouting, in the hope and expectation of learning something about theanticipated Indian uprising, so that the weaker settlements couldwithdraw in time to more secure quarters; for the winter, at least,combining with stronger posts.
"I wanted father to let me go with Simon Kenton," said Sandy,despondently, the day after the departure of the frontiersman.
"But of course he refused," said Bob, quickly; "and rightly, too. Youare too young to be wandering around the country as he does, Sandy;and think, what would mother do without you? It's all well enough forKenton, who is a man full grown, and has no home. You belong here,Sandy, with us. How could I attend to all the traps, and hunt in thebargain, without you? I am glad father said no; glad for my own sake,glad for mother, and glad for you, too."
The reference to his mother touched the heart of impulsive Sandy.
"Well," he said, slowly, "I guess it is best I stay for another yearor so, anyway; but, some day, I'm going to follow in the footsteps ofSimon Kenton."
Bob said no more, knowing the nature of his brother only too well, andby another day Sandy had apparently quite gotten over his grieving.
September was now moving along very fast, and, almost before they wouldbe aware of it, the great forest trees must be taking on the red andgold of autumn hues, as the first frost came down from the north.
Each time the boys went out they set another trap, until the entirenumber they owned were in use. The prospect ahead looked rosy, indeed,if only that story in connection with the threatened Indian war couldbe forgotten.
&n
bsp; Sometimes it came to Bob in the dead of night, to cause him more orless grave thought, for his was a nature unlike Sandy's lightheartedone; and, before Pat O'Mara departed, he had once more impressed uponthe older lad the necessity for unusual care in making their rounds ofthe traps, or venturing into the surrounding forest in search of game.
And, on this night in question, it seemed to Bob that he awoke froma very vivid dream, in which the settlement was being attacked bycountless painted Indians. So startling an effect did the dream haveupon him that he even sat up on his cot and listened, as though hehalf expected to hear the distant yells of dancing red men as theysurrounded the stockade.
All seemed still, however, and Bob was about to drop back again when,glancing in the direction of the little window, he was surprised tofind that a flickering glow came and went, as though a fire might beburning without.
Hastily the boy crept from under his covers, and went over to open thedoor, in order to thrust his head outside; but, hardly had he donethis, than he received a shock that dazed him, for he discovered thatthe entire side of the cabin was in flames!