Part 11 (1/2)
”What has happened, Dio?” I asked, kneeling down by his side.
”No matches, ma.s.sa,” answered Dio; ”and him eat up all de food Ma.s.sa Tidey left. For two days him had noting to put in him mouth.”
”You shall have something then without delay,” I said, giving him a bottle, which I had fortunately filled at the last spring we had pa.s.sed.
He eagerly swallowed a draught, and we then produced the provisions we had brought. Though weak from his previous illness, the poor black was not so far gone as to be unable to eat a hearty meal. This quickly revived him. He told us that his fear of being captured by the emissaries of his old master had prevented him going out in search of food, and that he had imprudently on the first day consumed the provisions left by Mr Tidey, which, eked out, might have lasted almost to the present time. His joy at hearing that the Kentuckians had been defeated, greatly a.s.sisted to recover him, although he expressed his regret that we should have been exposed to danger on his account. When we told him we had come to escort him on his way to Mr Grey's, his countenance fell.
”But my father says we may take you back, if you are willing to accompany us to the west, where we shall be at a distance from the slave-states,” I added.
”With all dis n.i.g.g.ar's heart,” exclaimed Dio; ”me go whar' ma.s.sa go; right 'way to de Rocky Mountains, if him like.”
We spent the night in the cavern, neither wolves nor bears showing their noses, and the next morning Dio, after a good breakfast, declared that he was well able to go back to Uphill. On seeing him attempt to walk, however, I judged that it would be prudent to let him take another day's rest, while we went in search of game and obtained some more water from a spring which rose at some distance from the cave.
We had capital sport, and a fat turkey which I shot put some more strength into Dio's muscles. We were very happy in our roomy cave, which was large enough to afford shelter to a dozen families, and we agreed that we should like to spend several days there. However, we were wanted at home, and Dio having completely recovered, we set off at daybreak the following morning.
We stepped out so briskly, that although we made a circuit to avoid the risk of falling in with strangers on the high road, we reached home soon after sunset. We found the preparations for our departure much advanced. My father had procured four waggons and several teams of stout oxen, which were considered more suitable than horses for traversing the prairies, as being hardier and better able to go a long distance without water. My father, Mr Tidey, and I had a horse a-piece, and Uncle Denis would, of course, bring his own with probably half-a-dozen more for some of the men.
Martin Prentis was to remain with the purchaser of the property; indeed, without his a.s.sistance, Mr McDermont would have been badly off. Our overseer promised, however, when his services were not required, to join us.
Three days after our return Uncle Denis arrived, bringing with him several white men, among whom was his overseer, and two blacks, slaves whom he had emanc.i.p.ated with the promise that they should labour for him until they had paid the price of their freedom. ”We shall see whether they prove faithful or not,” he remarked, as he described his arrangements. Besides them Uncle Denis was accompanied by his overseer, who, not being required on the farm, was in search of employment.
Greatly to our satisfaction, just as we were on the point of starting, Martin Prentis came forward and offered to give up his situation to Uncle Denis's overseer, Tom Sykes, if Tom would take it, and Mr McDermont would agree to the arrangement. This he did, and it was settled that Martin should accompany us, so that altogether we formed a pretty large, well-armed party. We all had rifles, and a brace of pistols, besides long knives in our belts, and my father and Uncle Denis wore their swords.
Our uncle's followers, including Sam Hodding, his factotum, were st.u.r.dy fellows, and if some of them were not very bright, they were all, he said, as true as steel, while he believed that the two blacks, influenced by grat.i.tude, would prove perfectly faithful.
He brought word that Mr Bracher was said to be very ill. We suspected that he was suffering from a wound he had received while attacking our house. There was some fear, should he hear of our intended departure, that he might for the purpose of revenging himself, send a party to follow us up and attack us while on the move.
”Never fear, friends,” said Mr McDermont, when the subject was spoken of, ”I'll keep an eye on the proceedings of the gentleman, and if I hear of any suspicious characters going in the direction you are travelling, I'll dodge their steps and come to your a.s.sistance. They'll not follow you far, if they follow at all, so I don't think that you need have much fear of being troubled by them.”
We exchanged kind farewells with our new friend, and not without many a regret at leaving Uphill commenced our march. We all knew that it would be a toilsome one and not free from danger, but my father had determined, that as he was moving he would move far west, where the curse of slavery was unknown.
The waggons I have mentioned were of a stronger build than those before described. They had high tilts which made them comfortable sleeping-places at night. My father and Uncle Denis rode alongside the leading waggon, in which my mother, Kathleen, Biddy, and Rose travelled, and Dan condescended when tired to take his seat with them. Martin Prentis drove the first, Sam Hodding the second, Peter the third, and some of our other men the rest. Mr Tidey and I brought up the rear.
For some days we kept Dio inside, lest he might be recognised and an attempt made to carry him off. Boxer and Toby generally scampered on ahead, coming back every now and then, and giving a loud bark as if to hurry on the train.
We moved but at a slow pace, for although the patient oxen could travel on for many miles without growing weary, it was impossible to make them advance out of a steady walk. We proceeded northward, having the mighty Mississippi on our left, until we reached the banks of the Illinois river, which we crossed in flat-bottomed boats, and then proceeding several days' journey westward, entered the wide prairies of Missouri, the vast river from which the state takes its name being to the south of us. We were now truly in the wilderness, but ”Westward Ho!” was our cry. We had numerous dangers to guard against; prairie fires might occur and envelope us in their deadly embrace; hostile Indians might attack us and attempt to carry off our cattle during the night: when crossing rivers floods might come down and overwhelm us; or packs of fierce wolves might seize any of our oxen straying from the neighbourhood of the camp; but the fear of such contingencies did not deter my father and uncle, who had made up their minds to move on until they could find a region suited to their taste. Many had done the same and failed, others had succeeded, and they hoped to be ranked among the latter.
Our mode of camping at night, having reached a spot near water, was, to form a square with our waggons, leaving an opening through which the cattle might be driven in case of an attack; if close to a broad and deep stream, the water served for one side and the camp could thus be made of larger size. The fires were lighted in the centre, and two or more men were always posted outside to give due notice of the approach of a foe. We had brought a tent for my mother and Kathleen, which was of course pitched inside the square, that they might enjoy more room than their waggon afforded, although that was made as comfortable as circ.u.mstances would permit for sitting in during the day-time. In case of being attacked by Indians, the goods in the waggons would serve, we hoped, as protection against their arrows or even the bullets of those possessed of fire-arms.
We always did our best to reach a spot of this description before sunset. Our first duty was to water the horses and cattle, then to hobble the former. This was done by fastening the fore and hind-legs on one side with an iron chain, a leathern strap pa.s.sing round the fetlock.
They were then turned loose to graze, their instinct inducing them, provided there was plenty of gra.s.s, to remain close to the camp. We then set to work to get wood for our fires, after filling the kettles with water; the salt meat was then put on to boil, or when we had game, that was spitted and placed on forked sticks to roast. We each of us had our various duties to attend to, some made up the beds with blankets and buffalo robes; one man roasted the coffee berries in a frying-pan and prepared them for boiling in a primitive fas.h.i.+on by wrapping them in a piece of buffalo or deer-skin and pounding them with the back of a hatchet.
As soon as the coffee was boiled and the meat cooked we all turned to with good appet.i.tes, our mother, Kathleen, Biddy, and Rose, seating themselves on some of the lighter packages, which were taken from the waggons for the purpose.
After a few days' travelling we got so accustomed to the style of life we were leading, that having encountered no serious difficulties we began to hope that the dangers we had heard of were more imaginary than real, and that we should after all perform our journey with ease and safety. Silas Bracher had either received no notice of our departure, or he did not suppose that Dio was with us, for we had travelled a hundred miles or more northward without seeing any of his people. Mr Tidey and I, however, as we rode in the rear, kept a look-out for them; and had they come up with our train they would have found us well prepared to give them a warm reception. It was satisfactory, however, at length to believe that there was no risk of an encounter with them.
CHAPTER SIX.
DAN'S EAGERNESS FOR ADVENTURES--MOSQUITOS--A TEMPEST BREWING--THE STORM UPON US--RISING OF THE RIVER--THE FLOOD--A FEARFUL FLASH--DIO TAKES THE LEAD--A MISERABLE NIGHT--STRANGERS IN CAMP--RUMOURS OF INDIANS-- FOLLOWING UP THE TRAIL--THE PLUNDERED EMIGRANT TRAIN--THE WOLVES--A PRAIRIE FLOWER--ALONE IN THE DESERTED CAMP--NEW DANGERS--A SURPRISE FOR MY MOTHER--THE HALT--GRAVES BY THE WAYSIDE--THE ONLY RECORDS OF THE SLAIN--”LILY'S MOTHER SLEEPS HERE.”
”I say, Mike, I thought by this time that we should have fought half a dozen battles with the redskins, killed no end of buffalo and deer, unkennelled black bears and grizzlies without number, and trapped beavers and rac.o.o.ns and 'possums by scores!” exclaimed Dan, as we were seated round our camp-fire.
”Wait a bit, my boy, until we get farther on our journey,” remarked Mr Tidey, who overheard Dan, ”we shall have adventures enough then to satisfy you, and enable Mike to fill up his journal to overflowing, though, for my part, I confess I shall be very glad, as I suspect will be your father and mother, if we get through without them.”
”Not much chance of that,” I observed, ”or we shall be an exception to the general rule. I hope, however, if we do meet with hostile Indians, that we may be able to beat them off. Martin Prentis, who has been a good deal among them, says that they are arrant cowards, and will only attack people when they find them unprepared.”