CHAPTER XXIII

WHAT THE DEAD ASHES OF A FIRE TOLD

"PULL hard, Sandy; father wants to land at that spot where the big crooked tree hangs over the water. Pat has told him that it was there he spent the night a year ago, when he was here spying out the land and learning what the Frenchmen were doing in the trapping line. And he also says it is the finest place for our new home he knows about."

While saying all this Bob was himself throwing his strength upon the sweep he and his younger brother were managing, while some of the men rested, or frolicked with their children inside the cabin of the flatboat.

They were afloat on the Mississippi, and had been descending the mighty stream most of the day. To cross it with only a clumsy flatboat was next to impossible. It would have been exceedingly dangerous to have risked the diverse currents that lay in wait for the incautious voyager, far out from shore.

Some of the men had even proposed that they try to make one of the islands that they had passed, and where it would seem they might be free from an attack on the part of the Indians; but to this Mr. Armstrong would not agree.

"Look back, friends," he had said when this bold scheme was proposed, "and try to imagine what would have become of us and our families, had we been on such an island when the flood came. It was bad enough on the main land, watching our cabins being undermined, and carried off; but how much worse had we been watching the waters slowly but surely covering the very land on which all we loved stood, with the raging torrent on every side, and no means of reaching the shore? For my part, after what I have passed through, nothing can tempt me to leave this firm foundation. True, the Indians and French trappers may get at us the easier; but we know where we are, and in the other case we would not."

And his words were of such a nature that even those who had been loudest in exploiting the benefits to be obtained by resorting to an island, changed their minds, and would have none of it.

The boat was brought in without a great amount of trouble, for they had been keeping only a short distance away from the bank while allowing themselves to be carried along at the will of the strong current.

Pat was, as always, the first to spring ashore. While the rest were busy securing the boat, the trapper was circling around up the bank, looking for recent signs of enemies near the spot.

He had claimed it was a well-known stopping-place for all those passing up or down-stream. Boats loaded with French trappers might possibly come along at some time or other; but already time was bringing about a change in the relations of the colonists and the sons of France; and if, as seemed very likely, a break did occur between King George and his American colonies, the French would be found taking the part of the latter.

Indeed, Mr. Armstrong had taken this into consideration when arranging to carry his family into the heart of the country controlled and claimed by the French. He expected to have some little trouble with them at first; but, after a little time, they would hear great news from the sea-coast that would lift the scales from their eyes, these rough and daring trappers, so that they would hold out their hands to make peace with the newcomers, as common allies against England.

"How does this suit you, Sandy?" asked Bob, when they, too, had clambered over the side of the boat, and stood on the bank.

"It is a fine place for a camp, and for a cabin, too," replied the other, looking about him with kindling eyes. "Plenty of big trees to cut down, or leave standing, just as we think best; and it looks as if there ought to be a heap of rich furs to be taken along that ridge back yonder, and the valley that must lie further on. Yes, I like this place. It is even better than what I could see, whenever I shut my eyes, and tried to picture our new homestead by the Mississippi."

They looked out upon the great river, where rested the bones of the discoverer, De Soto, and the copper plates he had sunk beneath its waters when he claimed the whole region for his royal master; and tears came into the eyes of Sandy, whose emotions were easily stirred.

"Higher up there, and a little way back, we would build our cabins, I think," Bob went on to remark, in his usual thoughtful way. "One bout with a flood will be more than enough for father. Think of what it meant to us, the destruction of our garden; the uprooting of the supports of our cabin; and then the loss of mother's little strong-box in which she kept her few precious remembrances of the past, as well as that wampum belt given to us by Pontiac, when we saved his life. Yes, it answers all the needs of our little company; and, once it is decided that we stay here, watch how soon the axes begin to ring, and the trees to fall. Inside of three days, we could have a roof over our heads again."

"I should be glad of that," ventured Sandy, heaving a little sigh as his eye roved toward their mother, just climbing down from the side of the boat, assisted by the steady hand of her husband; "for mother has grown weary of this wandering. She wants to have her own fire to work over, and cook meals for her family, instead of the whole company."

"Suppose we look around a little," suggested Bob.

"Count me in with you on that," agreed the other, quickly, for it was just what Sandy was about to propose himself, being fairly wild to do a little exploring on his own hook.

Of course they carried their guns as they left the vicinity of the flatboat, for the pioneer of that day never knew at what moment he would have urgent need of his weapons.

Pat was no longer in sight. He had started to circle rapidly around, and had already covered so much territory that it seemed as if there certainly could be nothing near by that might be dangerous.

A rabbit jumped out from almost under their feet; squirrels frisked among the oaks that grew in abundance in the woods; plump partridges whirred when they happened to stir the brush, and inside of five minutes these evidences of the abundance of small game had Sandy laughing in great glee.

"Oh! I guess none of those stories could have been untrue, brother," he declared, as they glimpsed a deer that had evidently been lying down near by, and was only disturbed by their approach; "why, I came near getting a shot at that doe; but, when that branch closed in behind her flank, I thought it would be silly to fire, with only a chance of wounding the poor thing. Mother has taught us not to be cruel when we take our toll of meat, and I am glad now I did not fire."

"I believe you will have plenty of chances to shoot all you want, if father decides to stay right around here," remarked Bob. "As for myself, I fancy that fine ridge just back there. If our cabin topped that, we could see up and down the river, just as we used to do, before, up on the Ohio; but what a different thing the Mississippi is from its tributary!"

"But," broke in Sandy, just then, "didn't you hear Pat tell about that other big river that comes down from the unknown country away off to the northwest, and empties its volume of water into the Mississippi not two hundred miles north of the mouth of the Ohio? He said it was the real Mississippi, and that the Indians so regarded it, because it comes from so far away, hundreds and hundreds of miles, so that no man knows the beginning, up in the country of the Crows; and the strange Indians with the white skin, called the Mandans; and the Sioux, who, the French say, are the most savage fighters of all the red race."

Bob looked at his brother doubtfully. He knew something was working on the mind of the boy, for he was used to reading the signs.

"You listen too much to these idle tales Pat tells, Sandy," he remarked. "First thing I know, you'll be wanting to go off and explore that other river, where no English settler has yet built his cabin, and only savage foes lurk."

Sandy made no reply, but a flush crept over his face; and Bob sighed; for he knew that his brother had even then been indulging in dreams of some day seeing that other great river, lying still deeper in the wilderness that lay toward the land of the setting sun.

"Pat was telling us that trappers call this the most favored place for many miles along the river," Bob remarked, as he glanced around him.

"Yes," added the other, quickly, "and he said he had camped here once himself, when he came to the country of the Mississippi to see what the Frenchmen were doing, and find out if it was really as fine a place as others had reported. Why, even now that looks like the ashes of a campfire over yonder."

"You are right, Sandy," declared Bob; "some one has been in camp here, and not so long ago, too; for the ashes have never been rained on; and you remember that just three days ago we had a long siege of it."

Bob had touched the flaky ashes with the toe of his moccasin when saying this. Versed in the knowledge of woodcraft, this was only a natural thing for the boy to remark. It fell from his lips just as readily as a lad of the present day might read a printed message that had been left in the crotch of a stick, after the departure of late campers.

"I wonder who they could have been, Indians, or French trappers heading for the nearest trading post with their winter's catch of pelts?" mused Sandy, looking thoughtfully around him while speaking.

"The chances are the last," Bob replied. "If Indians had been here we would see some signs to tell us of that fact. Chances are they would leave a broken arrow behind, or some feathers that were cast aside; and I do not see any such, do you?"

"No, not here," replied Sandy, and then added: "It seems to me there is something lying there, in that clump of grass, that has been thrown aside. Wait until I get it, Bob; perhaps it may give us a clue concerning the men who made this fire."

Carelessly he stepped aside, and, bending, picked up the object that had caught his attention. As Sandy stood staring, Bob advanced to his side with quick strides. Then he, too, seemed to have been turned into stone, for his eyes were glued upon what Sandy held in his shaking hand.

The eyes of the two boys met in a startled look; and it could be plainly seen that they were deeply moved by the discovery Sandy had made, close to the dead ashes of the abandoned fire.