Part 18 (1/2)

That evening the boys turned their attention to making spears for fis.h.i.+ng. They used some seasoned hickory which Ree had put in the loft during the winter for the making of bows, and were able to whittle stout, sharp p.r.o.ngs out of that hard, tough wood. It was too late when the task was completed, however, to try the spears that night, but the boys went to bed promising themselves good sport the next evening.

Although it was still the month of March, the early spring of that year enabled the young pioneers to begin at once active preparations for planting corn, potatoes, beans and squashes. The brush cut during the winter was so dry that it burned readily, and the green brush was easily disposed of also, when piled upon the hot fires the dry wood made. In this way the natural clearing was soon rid of the scattered undergrowth upon it.

In a week or two the boys were ready to put the seed into the ground, digging up a s.p.a.ce a foot square wherever they planted a hill of beans, corn, potatoes or squashes. It was slow work, nevertheless, and the st.u.r.dy, youthful farmers were obliged to toil early and late.

The coming of Indians frequently interrupted the boys at their work, and they came at last to continue their labor after greeting their visitors, unless the latter wished to trade. This the redmen liked none too well.

They seemed to think their Paleface neighbors were devoting too much time to agricultural pursuits, and they feared and hated any and all things which threatened to turn their forests into farm lands. But Ree and John agreed that, since they had bought the land of the Indians, they might as well give the former owners to understand, first and last, that they meant to do with it as they liked.

Big Buffalo was among a party which stopped at the cabin one day. He refused food and made himself generally disagreeable. The boys, however, ignored his ill humor and by paying no attention to him, showed that they neither cared for his hatred nor feared him, even though they knew there was murder in his heart.

Frequently strange Indians were among those who called and they asked the boys to visit their towns, some of which were not many miles away, to trade. As all of those Indians traversed the Portage trail or path, the boys were reminded almost daily of the desirability of securing land for a trading post, at the junction of the trail and the river. As they talked the matter over and looked into the future, more and more did they regret that the violent conduct of Big Buffalo had prevented their prolonging their bargaining with Capt. Pipe on the occasion of their last visit to him.

About this time, also, another reason arose for the two friends wis.h.i.+ng to visit Capt. Pipe again. It was the discovery that he had secured some horses. During the winter he had had none of which the boys knew. Now, they reasoned, if they could buy a horse, they would rig up their cart and carry their furs to Pittsburg. It would be a much shorter and safer trip than to undertake to reach Detroit, and they would require no a.s.sistance. There was some probability, too, that among their friends in Pittsburg they might get some word concerning Tom Fish.

It was one night when they had returned from fis.h.i.+ng, bringing in a great string of rock ba.s.s, that the lads talked this over, and at last concluded to go again to the Delaware town, even at the risk of having more trouble with Big Buffalo.

It seemed like a holiday after their hard work when, next day, the boys found themselves in their canoe, gliding over the river's rippling waters on their way to Capt. Pipe's home. They carried the craft overland to the lake and soon approached the Indian village.

But suddenly as they drew near, the noise of many voices was borne to them by the breeze. First loud, then low, the sounds came across the water. Ree's face grew grave, and John, who had been whistling, abruptly paused.

”Ree,” he exclaimed, ”that is the song of the war dance!”

”It means that the Indians are going on the warpath, as surely as we hear it,” was the answer. ”Be on your guard, John. We will soon find out just what it means; for we won't turn back now, even if we see the whole tribe in war paint.”

CHAPTER XVII.

Danger.

As Ree spoke, a war whoop sounded clear and strong, instantly followed by a weird, chanting song. In a minute or two this ceased, and then with fiercer war whoops than before, broke out afresh. Quickly the young pioneers floated nearer the scene of these warlike outbursts, and soon ran the nose of their canoe upon the gravelly beach. With fast-beating hearts they climbed the little bank which rose gradually a few feet back from the sh.o.r.e.

The boys had approached so quietly, and the Indians were so intent on the war dance that their coming had not been discovered. And well might the lads pause in uncertainty as to the manner of the reception they would receive; for now they came into full view of the a.s.sembled savages--half-naked warriors in paint and fighting costume, forming a circle and dancing and yelling like the wild barbarians they were, while old men and young braves and squaws and children looked on in savage rapture. Before either boy could speak Big Buffalo espied them and leaped forward brandis.h.i.+ng a tomahawk.

Instinctively Ree seized his rifle in both hands, ready for instant action. John did the same, and with an ugly leer the Indian paused. His action had attracted attention, however, and at this critical juncture Capt. Pipe discovered the presence of the visitors, and called angrily to Buffalo to put up his weapon.

The chief was in full war costume himself, making anything but a peaceable appearance as he met the boys half way, when they obeyed his signal to approach. But without a word he conducted them to a place in the circle of spectators gathered around the forty or fifty warriors, and at once the dance went on as though there had been no interruption.

With terrible gestures of their arms and throwing their bodies into all sorts of warlike att.i.tudes, the Indians danced about in a circle, striking their feet down with great force as they kept time to the beating of two rude drums and the uncanny song they sang. With a war whoop a dance was begun and continued for about two minutes, the outlandish music making the forest ring. Then the singing and dancing stopped and the Indians walked more slowly around the circle.

In a minute or so another war-cry would sound and the fierce, weird music and dance would be resumed. Then some old Indian among the spectators would clap his hands, signifying that he wished to speak. The dance would cease and the dancers walk slowly 'round again, while a speech was made.

The address would occupy only a half minute or a minute perhaps, and then with another of the horrifying war cries the dancing and singing were started afresh.

Ree and John might have been a thousand miles away for all the attention that was given them at first.

”Perhaps it is merely a festival dance,” John whispered to his chum.

”No, it would be given in the evening if that were true,” was the answer.

”It means the warpath, I am sure.”