CHAPTER XXX

THE MYSTERY SOLVED CONCLUSION

BOB, despite his long tramp, as well as the excitement that had been his portion during that day, felt little like sleeping. It seemed to him as though something weighed upon his mind, preventing him from enjoying his customary slumber. He did not know just what to make of it, and wondered whether it might mean that danger again hung over the cabin of his parents.

When the others had settled down, Bob wandered forth. It was not his turn to act as sentry, and so, instead of passing around to converse in low tones with Mr. Bancroft, who was serving at the time, he found a place where he could be comfortable, and there remained, with his back against the cabin wall.

The night was warm, so that it was no task to remain out of doors. Besides, Bob was accustomed to looking upon the star-decked sky as his roof. Many a time had he and Sandy slept in the open, with no other covering. They were hardy, as indeed all pioneer boys had to be, in order to encounter successfully the privations that seemed to be their birthright.

Bob, himself, hardly knew just why he had chosen to settle down there, where he could observe the door of his father's new cabin in the flickering light of the dying fire. He seemed to take solid satisfaction in just sitting where he could keep his eyes upon it, while thinking about that other home, many hundred miles away, which they had left forever.

Bob was just becoming conscious of the fact that his eyes were feeling a trifle heavy, and wondering whether, after all, he would not be wise in entering the cabin, so as to seek rest upon the furs that constituted his couch, when he suddenly became aware that there was something moving between him and the almost dead fire.

Now thoroughly aroused, he bent over until upon his knees, and eagerly watched. In this fashion he presently became aware that it was a human figure, and not a prowling wolf, that had attracted his attention. It was surely advancing, slowly yet positively, toward the cabin occupied by the Armstrongs.

Bob felt his pulses thrill. Was this some friend of the prisoners, and did he mean to try to effect their release? Then why pick out the cabin where Sandy, Kate, Mr. Armstrong and the little mother slept, in total ignorance of the peril that seemed to hover above their heads; unless, as seemed possible, he knew not where the captive Frenchmen were confined. And it added to Bob's anxiety when presently he made the alarming discovery that the silent creeper was a painted and feathered Indian!

Waiting until the creeper had bent low near the door of the cabin, Bob launched himself forward. He landed full upon the other's back. There was an involuntary grunt from the Indian, and a twisting of the lithe figure; but either the savage did not wish to resist violently, or else he realized the folly of trying to get away from the strong clutch of the young pioneer, for he almost immediately relaxed his muscles, and remained there, limp enough.

Meanwhile Bob's cries had brought forth, not only his father and the rest of the family, but everybody in the settlement. They came crowding around, the men with guns, ready to defend their families against a possible attack of the treacherous red foe.

Great, therefore, was the surprise of the men when they learned how Bob had captured the creeping Indian, whose actions would indicate that he must have had some base designs upon the Armstrong cabin. His arms had been hastily secured by one of the men; but he now stood calmly before them, apparently scorning to show any desire to flee.

Pat took one look at the prisoner, and uttered an exclamation of amazement.

"By the powers, now!" he cried, "and who would be afther expectin' to say a Delaware brave as far away from his home country as this wan?"

"A Delaware!" echoed Sandy, in his turn pushing forward, to stare in the face of the prisoner; and then he, too, gave a cry.

"Bob, look here, and tell me if this isn't that same young brave we found with his foot caught in a crevice of the rock, and nearly starved to death?"

And the astonished Bob, after coming closer to the prisoner, agreed with his younger brother.

"Yes, as sure as you live, it is the young brave who said at the time when we set him free and gave him meat, that his name was Buckongahelas, and his father a chief of the Delawares. Oh! now we know who sent those warning letters written on birch bark. Just as we guessed more than once, it was he. That was the Indian way of showing gratitude; and he has even followed us all the way to the Mississippi, in order to again help us. It is the strangest thing I ever knew."

"But, if he is your friend, what was he creeping up to the door of your cabin for?" demanded Mr. Wayne, who did not trust the Indian nature any too well, and found it difficult to believe that any redskin could feel gratitude.

Sandy was already unfastening the thongs that held the arms of the Delaware behind his back; and he answered indignantly:

"I'm sure that, if you take the trouble to look, Mr. Wayne, you will find that he was placing another of his friendly birch-bark messages under the door of our cabin."

It was Bob, however, inspired by a sudden thrilling hope, who turned to look; and, hardly had Sandy spoken, than the other gave a shout of delight, as he snatched some object up from the ground, where it had been pushed from the stoop by the hasty exit of the Armstrong family.

"The precious wampum belt, Sandy!" he cried in glee; "see, Buckongahelas has brought it back to us, and was about to leave it at our doorstep when I jumped on his back!"

"Oh! where do you think he could have found it?" gasped Sandy, as he took the gift of the great Pontiac from the hand of his brother, and even pressed it to his lips, because he considered it the greatest blessing the little colony could own.

"Stop and think, Sandy," said Bob, trying to control his voice; "and you will surely remember what Jacques said about some one creeping upon them while they slept last night, taking only the belt, and nothing more. Buckongahelas did that; and to complete his splendid showing of Indian gratitude."

They all now turned upon the young Delaware, as though expecting that he should explain the mystery; which he did not seem averse to doing, though he evidently knew so little of English that he spoke to Pat in his native tongue, and the trapper translated the same to the colonists.

"Buckongahelas owes his life to the young white hunters. When he would have died like the old wolf that has lost its teeth, and can no longer hold fast to its prey, they came and saved him. More than that, they gave him meat to take him on his journey to the lodges of his people.

"It is not well that a Delaware, and the son of a chief, should be in the debt of a white man. Buckongahelas made a vow to the Great Manitou that he would repay it all. So he hovered about the home of the palefaces. Many times he saw them and they knew it not. He had reason to hate the two French trappers who came from far away in the land of the setting sun. He watched, and saw that they meant harm to the family of the white friends of Buckongahelas. Again, and yet again, did the Delaware send messages with warning. Yet did the bad palefaces steal the belt of Pontiac away, and flee for the land of the Great Water.

"That was bad. Buckongahelas could not bear to see the grief of his white friends, and go back to his own lodge. A Delaware knows no fear. So, when they journeyed down the beautiful river on their new boat the Delaware was always near by. Day and night Buckongahelas kept with the palefaces; sometimes on a log floating along, and passing their camp, but always watching for the two bad men who would wrong their own kind by keeping the belt of Pontiac, that did not belong to them.

"And when the sun went down last night, the Delaware crept into the camp of the French trappers, and took away the belt that belonged to another. Now Buckongahelas feels that he can go back on the long journey to his own people. The debt has been paid, and he may look in the face of his father again. It is well."

And so was the mystery lifted from the strange friendly warnings that, from time to time, had been received, when some particular peril hovered over the Armstrongs. After all, it was very simple. Both Bob and Sandy understood Indian nature well enough to know what a strong hold the question of honor had upon a brave like the highly-strung young Delaware. Proud of his own strength and courage, it galled him to think that he was under so great an obligation to those two half-grown white boys; and he could never rest content until he had succeeded in cancelling the debt after the manner of his people.

He would not remain even over the night with them, for, truth to tell, Buckongahelas had no particular love for the whites, no matter whether they were English or French; and what history tells about his future exploits amply proves that what he did for the Armstrongs was a purely personal matter, and not because he wished to be friendly toward the people who were slowly but surely driving his tribe toward the setting sun. The Delawares had once inhabited the land near Chesapeake and Delaware bays, though at that time they had moved so as to be further away from the encroaching whites. They now found that the latter were following on their track in constantly increasing numbers.

With the recovery of the wonderful wampum belt the boys no longer feared an Indian attack, unless something happened to Pontiac that would remove the famous sachem from the leadership of the confederated tribes. And we, who have read the history of our country in the early days, know that this did not occur for several years.

The new settlement progressed wonderfully. It was not very long before they had an accession, as the several families who had manifested a desire to follow them to the land of the Mississippi joined fortunes with those who had already built cabins, and were engaged in clearing and planting the land.

It soon became known to the Indians roundabout that the all-powerful Pontiac had spread his protecting mantle over this struggling little settlement on the bank of the Big Water; and from that hour they gave the colonists no trouble.

And the commandant at the nearest French trading post must have received the message that Mr. Armstrong forwarded in care of Jacques Larue, for he sent back word that there would be peace between his trappers and the little English settlement on the bank of the Mississippi.

The two rascally trappers had been greatly surprised at being let off without punishment. Perhaps their rough natures were not capable of comprehending the real meaning of the act; but they were glad to get away without paying for their evil deeds; and expressed the intention of fighting shy of the English settlement after that. As to whether they would keep their word or not may be made apparent later on, when many of the characters who have figured in this volume may be met again in the pages of a new book, to be called, "The Pioneer Boys of the Missouri."

Bob and Sandy had good reason to feel satisfied with the outcome of their little act of kindness. Of course, it did not amount to much to them, when they released that young Delaware from his rocky trap, by means of which his foot had been held secure for several days; but, to the mind of the Indian, it was a debt that must be sacredly paid several fold. And, whenever they looked upon the magic wampum belt that stood as a signet of the all-powerful protecting arm of Pontiac, the boys were wont to exchange a significant glance, as though to say that "bread cast upon the waters will return ere many days." And surely this saying had been amply justified in their case.

THE END.

NOTES

NOTE 1 (PAGE 5)

WHAT Sandy said about the extensive boundaries of Virginia was not surprising; for at this early day, just before the breaking out of the Revolutionary War, the colonists had only a vague idea of the next-to-unknown land that lay to the west. Beyond the Alleghanies, extending to the far-away Mississippi, the country was considered to be a part of Fincastle County, Virginia. Beyond that lay the Northwest Territory, a practically unexplored country, still awaiting the coming of the bold adventurer.

NOTE 2 (PAGE 7)

While the flood which the young pioneers witnessed may well have been the greatest that the Indians had ever known, it was probably slight compared with the annual floods of the present day. Every spring the Ohio and its tributaries receive a huge volume of water from the melting snows, and from the torrential rains which occur at that season, and these spring freshets are looked upon as a matter of course, and only commented on when they cause unusual loss of property or of human life. One of the greatest floods that the Valley of the Ohio has ever experienced was that in the latter part of March, 1913, when property valued at hundreds of millions of dollars was destroyed and many hundreds of people were drowned.

As far as possible, disaster is guarded against by an elaborate system of reservoirs and levees, but a year seldom passes in which the river does not break through at some point and flood many miles of the Valley. The increased volume of the annual floods is ascribed to the fact that the forests which originally lined the banks of the Ohio and its tributaries have been cut down, with the result that the excess of water is not absorbed by the soil, but comes pouring down from the hills.

NOTE 3 (PAGE 9)

Pontiac, a powerful chief of the Ottawa Indians, is famous as the one Indian who succeeded in uniting the numerous tribes along the frontier in a well-organized confederacy for the purpose of driving the English from the country. The uprising took place in 1763 and the war continued for three years, during which period the Indians captured practically every frontier fort except Detroit, which was besieged by them for many months, but succeeded in holding out against them. The war is one unending succession of massacres and Indian outrages, but the Indians were finally overcome, chiefly through their inability to persist in an enterprise unless immediately successful, joined to the jealousies among the tribes themselves. Throughout the war Pontiac was a most romantic figure, brave and able, and with all those characteristics which go to make up "the noble Red Man." Pontiac was assassinated in 1769 by a Delaware brave who had been bribed to do the deed by an English trader who had a personal grudge against the great Chief.

NOTE 4 (PAGE 55)

Every one has heard of Boone and Kenton; but history has but little to tell of James Harrod, surveyor, pioneer and scout. It is known that, even before Boone penetrated into Kentucky, Harrod had built himself a cabin on the site of the present city of Harrodsburg. Under a gentle and mild exterior, he seems to have been one of the bravest and most resourceful of the group of pioneers who contributed so much to the settling of Kentucky and the Valley of the Ohio. About the only anecdote of him which has come down to us is of the time when, single-handed, he tracked five Indian braves who had destroyed a frontiersman's home and carried off two of his daughters. It seems almost incredible; but, without aid, he killed four and wounded the fifth Indian, and returned the girls to their father. His fate is shrouded in mystery. While in the prime of life he one day disappeared into the forest, and never returned, and just how he met his end will never be known.

NOTE 5 (PAGE 62)

Whatever feeling the frontiersmen had against the hostile Indians, it was as nothing compared with their hatred and loathing for the renegade white men who joined with the Indians against the settlers. These men, fortunately few in number, were usually either desperate criminals whose lives were unsafe in the colonies, or else degenerate brutes who found life among the Indians more to their liking than that in civilized surroundings. The Indians, as a whole, had many noble qualities, such as loyalty to friendship and a strong regard for their word of honor, but the renegades lacked every good quality, being more cruel, more treacherous, more brutalized than the Indians with whom they cast in their lots.

The history of the frontier is full of accounts of these men, and prominent among them was Simon Girty, concerning whom many stories are told. McKee is less well known, but is mentioned occasionally as the companion of the more famous, or, rather, more infamous Girty.

NOTE 6 (PAGE 64)

History tells us that Little Turtle lived and died as the enemy of the settlers who came out from Virginia to people the wilderness. Many years later, when he was sachem of his tribe, and said to be the shrewdest foe the whites had ever known, it was under his leadership that the associated tribes--Wyandots or Hurons, Iroquois, Ottawas, Pottawottomies, Chippewas, Sacs, Delawares, Miamis and Shawanees--came down upon General St. Clair and his army before daylight, and won a most decisive victory over the forces he was leading against their towns of Old Chillicothe, Pecaway, and others.

NOTE 7 (PAGE 81)

The Shawanee invariably shaped his flints after the custom of his people; the Huron, the Wyandot, the Delaware, the Pottawottomie did his in an altogether different way. One arrowhead was long; another rather broad; a third had a small shank that fitted in the crotch made by splitting the end of the shaft; while a fourth needed no such appendage, but was inserted direct, and the two sides of the arrow securely bound, until the whole was as rigid as though forming one piece.

NOTE 8 (PAGE 127)

Boone at this time was held to be the finest borderman west of the Alleghanies. With his calm, resolute bearing he impressed every one he met as few men have the faculty for doing.

Even the hostile Indians felt that he was a _real_ man; and when, several years later, Boone had the misfortune to fall into their hands, instead of putting him to the torture post, or making him run the gauntlet, as ordinary prisoners were treated, they took him a prisoner to one of their villages far away in Ohio, where he was finally adopted into the tribe, and treated with great respect as a brother. Indeed, he had considerable difficulty in escaping later on, when he learned that hundreds of the Shawanee warriors were assembling, with the purpose of surprising his favorite settlement, which he managed to reach in time to prepare it for the defence that has become historic.

NOTE 9 (PAGE 149)

This prophecy of Bob Armstrong really came true, since the name of Blue Jacket figures on many pages of border history. He never loved the whites as a class; it was only the Armstrongs whom he had come to care for; and this explains why, at a later stage of his life, Blue Jacket even led his warriors against the settlements that were encroaching on the hunting grounds of the red men. Those who would know more about this brilliant young brave, who afterwards became so noted a chief, must study the accounts of border warfare, in which his exploits are written.

NOTE 10 (PAGE 209)

This wonderful man of the border, Simon Kenton, seemed to bear a charmed life. Many times was he captured; and on three occasions, at least, made to run the gauntlet of his foes, while the brush was piled up around the stake at which they fully intended to burn him; but he always escaped. He had come to believe that he was never fated to die at the hands of the red foe of the pioneers; and this made him the more rash. Even so valued a friend as Boone was unable to hold him in check, once he allowed this spirit of recklessness to have dominion over him.

Once, it is recorded that, just after his funeral pile of brush had been lighted, there came a furious thunder storm, the rain putting out the fire, and the crash of the elements sending fear to the hearts of the Indians. Then the medicine-man hastened to warn them that the Great Spirit was angry with his red children because they had attempted to put to death a paleface whom the spirits especially favored; and so Kenton had been put back in the prison lodge again, from which in time he made his escape, as usual.

NOTE 11 (PAGE 242)

France and England both claimed this country as their own; but for a long time those who owed allegiance to the lilies of France had held sway here, undisturbed, bargaining with the many Indian tribes, and assuming all the airs of real owners of these woods and waters, which fairly teemed with game or fish.

When they learned that the first bold band of English had braved all the perils that lay in wait for them, and had even established new homesteads on the shore of the mighty Mississippi, they were first amazed, and then furious.

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By MARION AMES TAGGART.

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated $1.50

Already as the "doctor's partner" Nancy Porter has won the affection of her readers, and in the same lovable manner she continues in the new book to press the keynotes of optimism and good-will.

=BORN TO THE BLUE=

By FLORENCE KIMBALL RUSSEL.

12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.25

The atmosphere of army life on the plains breathes on every page of this delightful tale. The boy is the son of a captain of U. S. cavalry stationed at a frontier post in the days when our regulars earned the gratitude of a nation.

=IN WEST POINT GRAY=

By FLORENCE KIMBALL RUSSEL.

12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

"Singularly enough one of the best books of the year for boys is written by a woman and deals with life at West Point. The presentment of life in the famous military academy whence so many heroes have graduated is realistic and enjoyable."--_New York Sun._

=THE SANDMAN: HIS FARM STORIES=

By WILLIAM J. HOPKINS. With fifty illustrations by Ada Clendenin Williamson.

Large 12mo, decorative cover $1.50

"An amusing, original book, written for the benefit of very small children. It should be one of the most popular of the year's books for reading to small children."--_Buffalo Express._

=THE SANDMAN: MORE FARM STORIES=

By WILLIAM J. HOPKINS.

Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50

Mr. Hopkins's first essay at bedtime stories met with such approval that this second book of "Sandman" tales was issued for scores of eager children. Life on the farm, and out-of-doors, is portrayed in his inimitable manner.

=THE SANDMAN: HIS SHIP STORIES=

By WILLIAM J. HOPKINS, author of "The Sandman: His Farm Stories," etc.

Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50

"Children call for these stories over and over again."--_Chicago Evening Post._

=THE SANDMAN: HIS SEA STORIES=

By WILLIAM J. HOPKINS.

Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50

Each year adds to the popularity of this unique series of stories to be read to the little ones at bed time and at other times.

THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES

_By HARRISON ADAMS_

Each, 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.25

=THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO;= OR, CLEARING THE WILDERNESS.

Boys will follow with ever increasing interest the fortunes of Bob and Sandy Armstrong in their hunting and trapping expeditions, and in their adventures with the Indians.

=THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES;= OR, ON THE TRAIL OF THE IROQUOIS.

In this story are introduced all of the principal characters of the first volume, and Bob and Sandy learn much of life in the open from the French trappers and _coureurs du bois_.

=THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI;= OR, THE HOMESTEAD IN THE WILDERNESS.

Telling of how the Armstrong family decides to move farther west after an awful flood on the Ohio, and how they travelled to the great "Father of Waters" and settled on its banks, and of how the pioneer boys had many adventures both with wild animals and with the crafty Indians.

=HAWK: THE YOUNG OSAGE=

By C. H. ROBINSON.

One vol., cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

A fine story of North American Indians. The story begins when Hawk is a papoose and follows him until he is finally made chief of his tribe.

=THE YOUNG APPRENTICE;= OR, ALLAN WEST'S CHUM.

By BURTON E. STEVENSON.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

In this book Mr. Stevenson takes up a new branch of railroading, namely, the work of the "Shops."

=THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND;= OR, THE ADVENTURES OF ALLAN WEST. By BURTON E. STEVENSON.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

Mr. Stevenson's hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is given a chance as a section-hand on a big Western railroad, and whose experiences are as real as they are thrilling.

=THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER.= By BURTON E. STEVENSON.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

"A better book for boys has never left an American press."--_Springfield Union._

=THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER.= By BURTON E. STEVENSON.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

"Nothing better in the way of a book of adventure for boys."--_Boston Herald._

=CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER;= By WINN STANDISH.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

Jack is a fine example of the American high-school boy.

=JACK LORIMER'S CHAMPIONS;= OR, SPORTS ON LAND AND LAKE. By WINN STANDISH.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

"It is exactly the sort of book to give a boy interested in athletics."--_Chicago Tribune._

=JACK LORIMER'S HOLIDAYS;= OR, MILLVALE HIGH IN CAMP. By WINN STANDISH.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

Full of just the kind of fun, sports and adventure to excite the healthy minded youngster to emulation.

=JACK LORIMER'S SUBSTITUTE:= OR, THE ACTING CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM. By WINN STANDISH.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling, and tobogganing.

=JACK LORIMER, FRESHMAN.= By WINN STANDISH.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

This book is typical of the American college boys' life and is a lively story.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Text uses both war-path and warpath, sea-coast and seacoast.

Page 58, "woodsrangers" changed to "woodrangers" (took them to be woodrangers)

Page 247, "Dalaware" changed "Delaware" (Delaware flint barb)

Page A-7, "reminiscenses" changed to "reminiscences" (with anecdotes and reminiscences)