Part 14 (1/2)

To this day, men, who have heard the stories handed down from generation to generation, of the hunters' paradise in what is now the Northern part of Ohio, in the years before 1800, delight to tell of the abundance of choicest game found in the valley of the Cuyahoga and about the small lakes in its vicinity, and Ree and John were in that very locality years before the white man's axe had opened up the country to general settlement, driving the deer, the bear and wolves and all kindred animals away.

Little wonder is it that these hardy pioneer boys were constantly reminding themselves that they must pa.s.s by many fine opportunities for a good shot, because of the necessity of saving their powder and bullets for actual use; there must be no shooting except when there was a good chance of securing game of some value.

Little wonder is it, that, even under these circ.u.mstances, Ree, by the middle of the afternoon, had secured a deer and three turkeys besides a big rabbit which he caught in his hands as it sprang from its burrow beneath a fallen tree-top. And John had also shot a deer and had killed their first bear--a half-grown cub which, late in finding quarters for its long winter's sleep, rose on its hind legs, growling savagely, as the boys came suddenly upon it, in pa.s.sing around a great boulder in the river valley.

In good time on a certain Tuesday in December, Capt. Pipe and his party arrived. Some of the braves were inclined to be very frolicsome and it was necessary to watch that they did not get their hands on property which was not their own.

But their chief was all dignity. He seemed to take a fancy to Ree, who was scarcely less dignified than himself,--being so grave and quiet in his deportment, indeed, that a doughty warrior who had made up his mind to challenge him to wrestle, had not the courage to suggest the contest.

The business of the day sat lightly on John's mind, however, and he was full of antics as any of the redskins. It resulted in his being challenged to wrestle, and he was laid on his back in short order. Then he remembered Ree's advice at the time he wrestled at the Delaware town, and making use of it, threw his man after a most clever and spirited contest.

But the great feature of the day, in John's estimation, was the foot race in which he defeated a young Indian known to be one of the best runners of the tribe, winning a beautiful pair of leggings which Big Buffalo put up in a wager. It was a short-distance race and he realized that in a longer run the Indian would have defeated him; it made him decide to practice running long distances. He might wish to outrun the redskins to save his scalp, some day.

Tom Fish sat silent and alone, a little apart from all the others, during the whole time. He eyed Big Buffalo sharply when no one save Ree observed him, but the gruesome scalp no longer hung at the Indian's belt.

Fis.h.i.+ng Bird was there and seemed especially friendly, though, not being a sub-chief, as was Big Buffalo, he did not pretend to any special dignity, but enjoyed himself in sports with the other young Indians and John.

When at last the Delawares settled down to business, there was a great deal of talk before an agreement was reached, that the boys should have a tract embracing about 200 acres, which the Indians marked off, in exchange for three red blankets and a bolt of blue cloth. It was a rather dear price, John thought, but Ree declared it was a bargain, for they secured just the land they wanted. Moreover, they retained the friends.h.i.+p of the Indians, and even though they should be obliged to pay for the land a second time to the United States government or the State of Connecticut, they could well afford to do so, under these circ.u.mstances.

There was general hand-shaking as the Delawares went away, though Tom Fish discreetly disappeared for the time, vowing he would give his hand to ”no b.l.o.o.d.y varmint.”

The Indians insisted that the young ”Long Knives” (Ree and John) should return their visit the second day following, for a ratification of the bargain they had made. This the boys regretted, as it would probably delay the completion of their cabin; but they were obliged to accept the invitation, and did so.

The next day, Wednesday, however, work on their rude dwelling was resumed, and Tom Fish turned in and helped like a good fellow. A fire-place and chimney had already been built of flat stones from along the margin of the river, and this day, so industriously did all apply themselves, that the roof and door were finished and the cabin practically completed except for the improvements to be added from time to time.

Words can hardly express the boys' pleasure as they built a fire for the first time in the big fire-place and found that their chimney did its work admirably. Without loss of time they at once moved into their new house from the brush shack in which their home had been; and by the cheerful fire light, as the night came on, they placed their things in as orderly a manner as possible, and found themselves quite comfortable, though much remained to be done, the c.h.i.n.king of the walls being the chief task unfinished.

Notwithstanding how the wind crept in at the open cracks until this work should be done, the boys were happy as they cooked and ate their supper in their new home. The ripple and murmur of the river as it splashed on the sh.o.r.e or washed over half-hidden stones, rose to them from the foot of the mound, and was like sweet music in their ears. The wind gently tossed the branches of the trees in harmony with the water's sound, and the howling of wolves far off somewhere in the darkness, made the feeling of security which the stout cabin walls gave all the more pleasing. Their prowling foe had not been about since the first night of their arrival, and they felt entirely safe.

”I guess I'll turn in, then,” said John, after trying in vain to brighten up Tom Fish and get him to telling stories; and he was soon asleep on the bed of leaves he had made in a corner.

Ree, having had no chance to read since leaving home, resolved to improve this opportunity. He got his ”Pilgrim's Progress” from a chest, and settled himself before the fire.

All the evening Tom had sat in silence beside the big chimney, but soon he leaned over, and placing one big hand on Ree's knee, said in a low voice:

”I've been wantin' to tell ye somethin', Ree; it's about that thar scalp that has upset me so ever since I seen it.”

CHAPTER XIII.

The Strange Story of Arthur Bridges.

Putting down his book, Ree looked thoughtfully into Tom's face.

”Of course,” said he, ”John and I have wondered about that--that matter--but we have considered that you had some reason for not talking of it, or telling us what it meant; and it was really none of our business. But I want to say, Tom, that I would rather you would not tell me anything which I must keep from John. He and I--well, you know how we have always been together, and we have no secrets from each other.”

”Bless ye, Ree, lad,” exclaimed the old woodsman, ”ye kin tell him all ye please of what I'm goin' to tell ye. The only reason I don't talk before him is--he's so full o' fun ye know; and ain't always keerful what he says. I don't keer when we're spinnin' yarns; but this here--it ain't no triflin' thing.”

”It's John's way. He would not hurt your feelings for anything, Tom.”

The hunter did not answer at once, but buried his face in his hands. Ree could plainly see that some great trouble was on his mind. Presently, however, he raised his head, and with a sigh clasped his hands over his knee.

”Arthur Bridges,” he began, ”was as fine a young feller as ever the Colonies produced; an' excep' for bein' a little wild, ye wouldn't a'