Part 15 (1/2)
”If you love your father keep him on this side of the Alleghanies!”
”You will make me angry, Basdel. I don't want to be displeased with you.
My father has known the Indians for years. He has warm friends in every tribe. He is as safe among them as he is here in Salem. And if Howard's Creek is in danger he can request the Indians to keep away from it.”
”Good G.o.d! Are you as blind as all that?” I groaned.
”Forest-running, Basdel, has made you violent and rough in your talk,” she icily rebuked. ”You hate the Indians simply because you do not understand them. Now I'm positive that the best thing for you to do is to keep away from the frontier and see if you can't start right on this side of the mountains.”
It would be folly to argue with her longer. I fished a pair of moccasins, absurdly small, from the breast of my hunting-s.h.i.+rt and placed them on the table. I had bought them from a squaw in White Eyes' village, and they were lavishly embroidered with gay beads. The squaw had laughed when I told the size I wanted.
”If you will forget these came from the forest and will let me leave them, I shall be pleased,” I said. ”If you don't care for them, just chuck them aside. I had to guess at the size.”
”Oh, they are beautiful,” she softly exclaimed, s.n.a.t.c.hing them from the table. ”Basdel, why not stay on this side of the mountains? You're a very clever young man if you would only give yourself a chance. Very soon you could go to the House of Burgesses. If you don't care to go into trade you could speculate in land. Father is against it, but if it will be done, you might as well do it as to leave the cream for others.”
”Even if I wished to stay, I could not,” I replied. ”I have much to do over there. Unfinished work. I have promised Colonel Lewis to carry despatches when not scouting. If they can send some one to Fort Pitt in my place I shall serve as scout in the Clinch River Valley. The people down there are badly upset.”
”Well, giving yourself for others may be very Christian-like. One must decide for one's self,” she said.
”The people over there help one another. They stand together. If I can help them, I shall be helping myself.”
”I wish my father could go there and make them see how silly they are,”
she impatiently declared. ”If they would only be friendly with the Indians! It is so simple----”
”I know a fellow about your age,” I broke in. ”The Indians killed his people on Keeney's k.n.o.b ten years ago and stole his little sister. He doesn't know whether she is dead or a captive. His folks were friendly.
They were butchered after making a feast for Cornstalk and his warriors.
There are many such cases. It would do no good for your father to tell young Cousin and others, who happened to survive, that they are silly.”
”Do you mean they would resent it?” she demanded, her chin going up in a very regal manner.
”He could scarcely change their opinions,” I mumbled.
We were interrupted by a colored woman bustling in with Colonel Lewis'
servant in tow. The man bowed profoundly before Patsy and then informed me:
”Please, Ma.s.sa Morris, de c'unel 'mires fo' to see yo' at de house right erway. I 'spects it's business fo' de gun'ner. De c'unel mos' 'tic'lar dat say he wants to see yo' to once. Yas, sah. Please, sah.”
I dismissed him with a word of my immediate attendance on the colonel.
Then I gave my hand to Patsy and said:
”This ends it then. Patsy, my thoughts of you have helped me out of many tight places.”
”If you'd only be sensible, Basdel, and stay back here where you belong.
Just say the word and father will place you in his office. I'm sure of it.”
”So am I sure of it, if you asked it. No, Patsy, it can't be that way. I thank you. I may be an awful failure, but I can always fool myself with hoping for better things. If I was pushed into trade, that would end me.”