“IRWIN BP. BEADLE'S

Published Monthly. >. dPyice Gen Cents,

 

THE ‘wooo RANGERS.
IRWIN P, BEADLE, PUBLISHER, 51 & 53 ANN STREET, N. Y.
WAINRIGHT & CASTELL, Brooklyn, N, Y.

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
ao

>

ay
Be
Yan -

 
 

WOOD RANGERS.

A TALE OF THE OHNO.

BY
EMERSON RODMAN.

in

NEW YORK:
YLWIN Pi BEADLE, PUBLISHER,

No. 51 ANN STREET.

yee

 
 

ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the

IRWIN P. BEADLE,
In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of th

year 1865, by

e United States
for the Southern District of New York. :

eee

 
 

  

THE WOOD RANGERS.

 

CHAPTER L

Somewhat over three-quarters of a century since a flat-
boat was making its way down the Ohio:

This period will be recognized by‘ all, as that) of the
great struggle between barbarism and civilization—between
the white and red men.

The flat-boat was a large ungainly structure; ndatio:
square in shape, made bullet-proof, and arranged to ac-

- commodate a goodly number of persons. Sinion- Kenton,

the renowned pioneer and companion of Daniel Boone, con-
trolled the guiding oar, while around and near him were
the heads of several men and ladies.

The night was quite advanced, and the Ranger surveyed
both shores with considerable anxiety.

“Tf we get through this night without any trouble,’’ he
remarked, after a moment’s pause,’’ ‘‘ we shall get down ‘to
the settlement without any more disturbance at all.”.

‘Don’t the Indians commit’ their ag@ressions inthe day
time ?” inquired Mr. Dupont, a middle-aged man, who hid
his family with him.

‘*Sometimes they do when the chances are all in ‘their
favor, and it is plain to ’em that the whites’ don’t know
anything.”

“Dat ’cisely what dis child tinks,” replied’a fat negro,
as black as midnight.

‘Keep still, Cato,” commanded his master, “until you ‘
are asked some question.’ as
“Dat so; dis yere nigger will.”

 

  
 

   

 

16 THE WOOD RANGERS.

»

Such a bright moonlight as this is almost as good as
day,” remarked a young, intelligent- -looking man by the
name of George Leland.

“Yes; but it doesn’t do us any good there,’ said ae
ton, pointing to the dark line of the shores, whose gloom
was impenetrable.

At the opposite end of the boat were. Donald Herndon
and Hugh Appleton, who had been stationed, there to keep
a look-out for danger; although it must not be supposed
that Kenton placed much reliance upon their watch-
fulness.

«They might blaze away all night at this boat,” said
Leland, ‘*and-not hurt.us.”’

“Ugh!” was the commentary of Kenton. ‘‘ There’s
more ways than one. Why, you, you've no idea what
tricks them deyils are up to. If they thought, we wan't on
the look-out, it wouldn’t be long before we’ see ’em. . Like
ough we'd.run,agin a log, ‘an’ when. we pushed our heads
over to see the matter, a dozen of the skunks would cracl
away at us, or they'd float down onto usin the branches
of the trees.. Ah! what do the boys see now ty,

The last-exclamation of “Kenton was caused: by. hearing
his own name called by Herndon. . Resigning his oar to

Dupont, he-made his way to the opposite ent As he |

passed through the sleeping apartment of the females, as
he was compelled to in his course, he heard their gentte,
regular breathing and rejoiced that all were locked in
slumber.

~** Wat's the matter, now, ‘boys rt

«There seems to be an island ahead, and we thought it .
best to consult you, whether to work the boat further from. .

it or not.’

‘* Let me see—ah! I remember ibe Sdand, No; we
shall pass it in about the right spot. We don’t want to
run too close to it, nor to hug the shore too. much. Have

you seen anything more of the canoe that you got a glimpse
of awhile ago ?”

‘No; but I shouldn’t wonder if it has stopped upon.

    

  

7
ee

THE WOOD RANGERS. il

that island. That is the reason why I had made to, sée
you.”

“JT will remam here ‘until we are fairly beyond this ;
and ——— if you’ve.a mind, you. may step to t/other
end, ;
The island which the flat-boat was ne aring, was a secpall
one, not over a dozen.yards in breadth, and twenty in
length. . It was covered with trees and luxuriant vegeta-
tion, which Ioomed darkly to view as it was neared. _To
tell the truth, this was the spot which the ranger, feared
more. than. any other on the river.

More than one company had been lured upon it by de-
coys, and it was especially dangerous, as the river at this
point was shallow and full of bars. He, had hoped to pass
it in the daytime, but was prevented.

As he neared it, he skilfully kept the boat at ‘the ‘proper
distance, cautioning those on board, not to. show.. their
heads, and yet recklessly exposing his own person. ; In ad-
dition to this, he maintained a close watch, upon the is-
land, and it was not without some misgivings that Me dis-
covered the canoe referred to, partly concealed. underneath

“some shrubbery. Still deeming it prudent not to frighten

his comrades, and hoping to pass the spot unmolested, he
kept his eye fixed upon the island. No human being was
as yet visible. . When nearly abreast of it, a faint, husky,
voice called out. =

‘¢Halloa, there!”

“‘Ki-yi, what you want?’ replied Cato, springing- to his
feet, when he was instantly pulled back by the iron grip of
Kenton. ‘‘Keep still,-or I'll pitch you over.” _

‘7 say, halloa there!”’ came again from the gloom,

No answer was returned. ‘

‘‘Oh, heavens! won’t- you-help a dying countryman ?”’
called out the supplicant in a faint tone.

«Do you hear that? He needs assistance,’’ said Du-
pont, forgetting himself.

‘Keep your mouth shut,” muttered Kenton.

Dupont made no reply, for he saw he had been indis-
zreet,

 
   

THE WOOD RANGERS.

«0, heavens! won’t you help a dying man,?’’ still
continued the voice.

Kenton now determined upon an artifice, and called
out—-

‘‘ What’s the trouble, friend ?”

‘“‘T have been almost murdered by Indians, and only
want to be taken on board to die.”

“Don’t say. How long ago?”

“Yesterday; but for God's sake are you going to pass
on pt

“*Oan’t you wait till morning ?’*

“No, no; I shall perish. Are you going to leave
me ?”” F -

All this time, it must be borne in mind, the boat was
~ gliding by the island. It was Kenton’s intention to keep
the decoy in conversation until, the boat ‘was fairly be-
yond it.

‘Say, are you going to leave me?”

“T rather cac’late 1 am, you infernal renegade; but I
will give you something to remember us by.”

With this the ranger raised ‘his rifle, and fired at the
‘spot where he judged the man to be concealed, He could
not see him, but he came uncomfortably close.

‘What's the meaning of that?’ demanded the yoico,
with a terrible oath.

‘‘Just to remember us by, my friend.”

**- You'll pay for it.”

‘“‘May be so; ha! ha! Just’—

Kenton’s Poutathe was stopped by a startling occurrence,
- The flat boat, all at once, struck the river _ bottum, and
came suddenly to a dead stand- -still,

ff

   

~
THE WOOD RANGERS. 13

CHAPTER II

“Ki-yi! Garry nations, hang it! Good Mr. Injin, I
allus loved yers! Come and take me to your bosom !”’ ex-
claimed Cato, very anxious to make terms with those he
deemed his conquerors. . Kenton, by a vigorous cuff and
kick succeeded in quieting, if not dispersing his fears,
and then turned his attention to this new and appalling

peril.

The sticking of the flat-boat was so unexpected and un-
looked for by the ranger, that for a moment he was taken
perfectly at fault. He saw at once that some obstruction
had been placed there by the decoy, which afforded him
the grounds for his boast, for immediately upon its striking
he called out— a

§* We'll see who'll laugh now, eh !’’

‘*God of Heaven, what are we to do?” exclaimed
Herndon. 4

‘* Just keep cool; call Colonel Preston up, and all of
you prepare for hot work.”

Kenton looked over, and saw that the bow of the boat
was stuck fast inthe mud. He now let himself quickly
down upon the opposite side from the island into the
water. He sank to his waist in the water and: clayey bot-
tom, and) was quickly made aware of a, state of things
which he feared. His form could be plainly seen .against
the boat, and. the -minute he appeared to view a. dozen
rifles flashed from the shore of the river, and as many bullets
sunk into the soft wood of the side. Nothing disconcerted,
however, he stooped his ponderous shoulder against. the
bow, and calling into plea his herculean: strength, fairly
lifted it clear of the obstruction. As he saw it once morc

gliding downward with the current, he sprang up the side _

.

 
   

14 THE WOOD RANGERS,

and made his appearance among his  horror-stricken
friends, entirely unscathed by the fearful ordeal through
which he had passed.

Jes’ what I’s goin’ to do, but you got ahead of me,”
said Cato.

“Thank God, we are safe!”’ exclaimed Dupont.

**Don’t think we are safe as long as that island is within
sight.’’ 4

“Why, and won’t that be in a few moments—what’s
that ?” J e

“Struck again!’’ exclaimed Kenton, letting his rage for
a second get the best of him. ‘‘‘If they do make us fight,
they'll find it warm enough for them. Ah, Colonel you're
there, eh ?’’

“T calculate I am, and quite ready for a host of the
imps.”

“You'll have ’em. Don’t let the women come up. See
that you have plenty of ammunition and your knives about
you.” -

As may well be supposed, the danger to our friends was
assuming dreadful proportions every moment. The boat.
having struck a second time, where Kenton knew no natu-
ral obstruction existed, showed unmistakably that a tray
was set for them, and the hunter further ‘knew enough of
Indian tactics to be certain that they would not remain long
in their present position without an attack. The noise of
the rifles, and the passage through their apartments had
awakened the females, and they well understvod their peril.
While most of them showed a commendable prudence in
maintaining silence and restraining all utterance of fear, Mrs.
Dupont seemed fearfully frantic.

**O, what shall we do! what shall we do’? We shall all
be murdered by the Injins. O Lord, help us!”

‘¢Mother, do keep quiet; you will only distract the at-
tention of those above. I’m sure they will do all they
can,’” pleaded her daughter Maggie, a young girl of sense
and beauty. :

“We shall be killed—we shall be killed! Oh! Oh!

al

 

  
  
THE WOOD RANGERS 15°

Qh!’" continued Mrs. Dupont, hysterically, wringing her
hands and swaying her body.

‘Don’t make a confounded fool of yourself,” exclaimed
Colonel Preston, losing all patience.

‘¢ Whose a fool, I should like to know?” she demanded,
suddenly stopping and looking spitefully toward the
speaker; but the Colonel had disappeared and gone up on
deck. At this “instant, young Leland eee hurriedly
through the cabin.

“George, George, have they attacked us? Do tell,” ex-
claimed Mrs. Dupont.

“There is no need yet of being alarmed,” he answered
mildly. ‘Weare prepared for any assault, and if you
place any value upon your own life and those of the rest,
you will cease the trouble you are making.”

This had the effect of partly silencing her, though now
and then she gave utterance to a half- suppressed lamenta-
tion or deep- terre n groan.

In the meantime, all preparations were making above.
Tt was evident the svages were hastily consulting upon
the best method of attack, and it was their intention to
avail themselves of the disadvantage of the whites at once.
A continual fire was kept upon the boat from both sides, to
prevent any similar attempt of Kenton’s.

Nothing daunted, however, the daring pioneer sprang
over the gunwale a second time, again applied his shoulder,
and amid a perfect storm of bullets, again set the boat
moving; and wonderful as it may seem, ae without a
scratch.

This unlooked-for act upon the part of Ketitong again
changed the fortune of war.

The savages, fearful that their expected prey was about
escaping them, leaped into. the shallow water, and made
toward the boat. There were about a half-dozen who
started from the island, and twice as many from the oppo-
site bank: ‘I'o add to the frightful peril of our friends, the

“flat-boat struck for the third time, and remained more firmly

imbedded than before.
‘Leland, you and Herndon settle the devils: from the is-

 
 
 

16 THE WOOD RANGERS,

land. Give it to them, for you must manage them alone,
and we'll attend to the rest,’’ exclaimed Kenton. A second
after, he leaped upon the roof of the cabin, and with one
bound landed upon the opposite end. Here were Dupont,
Preston, and two younger men.

‘Give ’em fury,”’ shouted the hunter. ‘‘Dupont blaze
into them chaps.from the island, and we’ll fix the. flint of
the others. Smash eyery head that shows itself, white or
red, but especially if white.”

The next instant, the gleaming visage of a savage sud-
denly rose to view within a couple of feet of Kenton. With
a lightning-like movement the stock of his rifle descended
with such terrific force upon it, that it was absolutely shat-
tered like a rotten apple! Instantly a half-dozen more
shot up in different parts of the boat, but the resolute arms
of the whites brought their clubbed rifles down with such
force that one blow was sufficient for all purposes. As
Kenton turned with the impetus of his own sweeping blow,
he saw a gigantic savage in the very act of springing over.
Leaping lightly forward, he caught him fairly in his arms,
and with the force of a giant hurled him to the deck, where
two plunges of his knife extinguished the last spark of life.
Then springing to his feet, he threw him over like a frog
among the savages below.

Still the Indians fought like incarnate demons, urged on
by the white renegade whose voiee sounded high above
their own. To add to the horrid discord, Mrs. Dupont be-
came frantic with fear, and losing all control of herself, set
up her shrill shrieks and screams, and was only prevented
by the united efforts of the rest from rushing on deck in
the midst of the terrible affray.

The men fought with a coolness and deliberation which -
was surprising. Indeed, it may be said that Kenton him-
self was more excited than the others; but he never lost
his self-control. A. wild, ecstatic enthusiasm seemed to,
fire his muscular frame as he leaped and darted about, en-
tirely heedless of the danger.

All the others, with the exception of Colonel Preston,

   

uttered not a word or exclamation. Their teeth were set,

 
>

THE WOOD RANGERS. <7

their brows knit, and they struggled like men conscious. of
what they had at stake.

The Indians, it will be seen, had ‘perfectly surrounded
the boat, and were doing their utmost to climb its sides.
Those from the island had come out in canoes, while those
from the other shore, were on foot.. The water was
very shallow—so that the assailants were hardly to their
knees in it. ‘

From where they stood, by springing upward, they
could reach their hands to the gunwale, and, provided they
were not instantly smashed, could haul. their bodies up-
after them, and get their heads broken in their place. This
was the game they were playing, and, as may be safely sup-
posed, they began to tire’ of it, and made strenuous efforts
to change the fortunes of war.

If Mrs. Dupont was perfectly beside herself with agoniz-
ing fears, she certainly had some excuse. On one side of
the cabin, just above her head, there was a small open-
ing which had been cut there for the purpose of better ven-
tilating it, and the first warning she had of the fearful
proximity of the savages, was in the shape of one of their
naked hands coming through the opening, and clutching
her long tresses. It being perfectly dark, the others were
at a loss to understand her excessive fear, until Mrs. Pres-
ton, in endeavoring to place her arm over her neck,
touched the rigid arm. _ The grasp upon the hair was in-
stantly loosened, and Mrs. Preston felt her wrist fast in the
vice-like fingers of the Indian.

‘‘Hand me a knife, quick,” she commanded in low
tones.

«What kind of a knife?” ,

“The butcher knife, quick, for God’s sake!” for in
spite of her most strenuous efforts, the powerful savage was
slowly pulling her hand through the orifice,

The knife was handed to her, just as her hold upon the

edge of the opening had given way. Passing the blade

through the orifice so as to extend above the savage’s arm,
and yet not touch it, she grasped the handle firmiy, and

‘using the upper edge of the orifice as a fulcrum, pressed

 
 

 

 
 

18 THE WOOD RANGERS,

quickly down upon thé Indian’s arm, His grasp was in-
stantly loosened, and Mrs. Dupont jerking her hand away,
drew the knife suddenly inward, giving the member a fear-
ful gash.

The next instant, the opening was closed, and the in-
mates, though in blank darkness, were safe for the present.
Yet the splashing of water, the thumping and scratching
against the side of the flat-boat, the yells of exultation, the
howls of baffled revenge, the continual scuffing above on
the: deck, and the occasional discharge of fire-arms,
told but too plainly that victory was, as yet, extremely
doubtfal.

* Blastnation! if I wouldn’t like to get a crack at the
head of that white imp that’s yelling so below there,”’ ex-
claimed Colonel Preston, glaring savagely around him, as
he stood a moment! waiting for the next foe. An instant
after, a hand closed upon the gunwale, and almost instantly
the stock of the Colonel’s rifle rushed it,

“There! I wonder how you like that! Umph! You'll
have to get your mother to put some rags on them fingers,
Hello! whose face is that?” he exclaimed, as one ap-
peared suddenly in view, and as suddenly vanished before
his sweeping, well-directed blow.

“Yes; whose face is it now? Don’t b’lieve you'd
know yourself. Umph! I should like to fight all night
as long as the fun is like this. I say, Kenton, can’t you
get a sight of that renegade? Just invite him up here for

‘my benefit.” : i

“T've been on the look-out for him, but can’t see him!”
answered the hunter hurtiedly, .

** What does that mean?” interrupted the Colonel, as he
felt a peculiar motion in the boat.

‘“‘They’re upsetting us, as sure as Heaven!” said Hern-
don, turning pale. S

“Don’t be scairt; let ’em try it; they can’t do it.
Don't forget to keep watch,” answered Kenton with great
quickness,

The savages were surely making efforts to overturn the
boat, and whether they were unable to sueceed or not was

 

  
  

Oo
2

THE WOOD RANGERS.
”

by no means clear, for it Began swaying fearfully, and
seemed increasing each moment.

But their attempts were doomed to be the. salvation of
the whites. Before they were awaré of it, the. motion of
the boat had freed it from the obstruction, and ere they
rightly understood the situation of things, they suddenly
found themselves up to their heads in deep water, and the
boat floating slowly away from them. An instant after,
and ere they could check its motion, they made: another
discovery, viz.: that they were obliged to swim, and
possessed not the least ability to stop the forward ‘course of
the boat.

‘*Much’ obliged,” called out: Colonel Preston, who un-
derstood how everything had taken place. ‘‘ We couldn’t
have done the business better ourselves.’

The chagrin of the Indians at finging, for once, how
consummately foolish they had shown themselves to be
can hardly be imagined. As soon as they could recover
standing ground, those who had preserved their ammuni-
tion from the water, commenced firing, in the hope-of pick-
ing off some incautious one. The horrid oaths of the
white man were heard far above the*howls of the savages,
at his disappointment. Suddenly Kenton distinguished his
form, and quickly placing the long barrel of his rifle over
the stern, as the boat moved slowly away, he took:a delibe-
vate aim at his body. His finger was already pressing the

trigger, when something made him hesitate. He raised his

head and peered: carefully atthe figure a moment, then
placing his thumb on the hammer, let it fall without -_

_ ing the powder.

>?

 

“You come nearer gettin’ your last sickness, Siwrari
Girty, that time than you ever did before. It’s well I
knowed you, or yoti’d never trouble the whites agin,”’
muttered Kenton, as he turned and placed his rifle beside’
him.

‘‘Who did you say that white imp was ?” asked Colonel
Preston, who had overheard the hunter muttering to him-
self. The latter started and replied—

‘‘That feller is Simon Girty.”

 

  
   
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
   
  
   

   

20 THE WOOD RANGERS.

“What! Simon Girty, and yen didn’t shoot him? Umph!
You ought to be shot yourself. I'll be hanged if I don’t pep-
per him if I can.”

So-saying, Colonel Preston raised his rifle and took
aim.

‘* Don’t you fire at him!” commanded Kenton, in low,

' imperative tones—so low and imperative that even the offi-
cer daré not disobey it.

‘*Umph! you’re a queer dog, Kenton; I should like to

‘know, if you'd as lief tell, why you want to Jet that imp
off, after he’s tried to serve us such a trick.”

Kenton turned his back and made no reply. What it was
that had induced the hunter to spare that sworn enemy of
every white man, and after he had made so desperate an
attempt on his own life, he was at a loss to tell.

The flat-boat; and its inmates, by the acts of its enemies,
had eseaped their clutches, and the whites were now saved.
Incredible as it may seem, not one of. the latter had suf-
fered éven the slichtest- wound, while at least’ a third of
the savages had either been severely wounded or killed.
This will be understood when it is remembered: how se-
curely our friends were protected.» No bullet could reach
them if the least caution was observed, and situated as
they were, they were enabled to withstand almost any
force. Once more the flat-boat glided on safely down the
Ohio.

‘¢Where’s Cato?” was suddenly asked, and the question
was repeated—all declaring that they knew nothing regard-
ing him. 3

*T heard him yelling after we had fairly got into
business,”’ said Kenton, ‘‘but I haven’t seen anything of
him since.”

‘Hello! what’s this ?—a dead man!’ exclaimed Colo-
nel Preston, as he descried:a dark body: nestling down
almost out of sight. ‘‘It’s Cato, I do believe. Come
get up.”

A rousing kick brought the response. , r

““O, good Mr. Injin,. I love ye’s! I wasn’t gwine to
THE WOOD RANGERS. 21

hurt ye. Iwas jes’ in fun. I'll be good, and lib wid ye
for eber.” j

“*Get up you black rascal!”

Cato rubbed his eyes, ‘and then slowly rose to his
fect.

“Wonder how I got asleep. Killed so many Injins, T
s’pose it put me asleep when I got frough. Must been»
dreamin’, ’cause I tink I jes” been spokin.”’

CHAPTER III.

At the time of which we write, the tide of civilization
was only beginning to set in the great West. Kentucky
was, indeed, a ‘‘dark and bloody ground,” and beside the
intrepid Boone, few had dared, as yet, to set foot upon its
soil. But there was a few, and the germs of several
settlements had already been planted in the great wil-
derness.

There were two paths by which the West was reached
at this time. The most frequented was the Ohio river.
Setting out from near its source in firm, substantial flat-
boats, the current carried them forward through a thousand
dangers to their distant destination. The other was what
was called “Boone’s ‘lrace,” leading from South Ken-
tucky to North Carolina. Both of these passes were
guarded with extraordinary care by the Indians, and at this
day it is difficult to imagine the terrible dangers which ©
threatened the early pioneers in their passage of either of
these. a

As late-as 1790, the Ohio river was considered the divid-
ing line between the hunting grounds of the savages and
the possessions of the whites. The latter, it is true, were
making endeavors to obtain a footing upon the opposite
shore; but the former, in turn, often advanced upon the-ac-
knowledged ground of civilization.

Onabend in the Ohio, in Mason County, Kentucky,
stands the town which was the destination of the flat-boat

     
   
 
  
 
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
   

  
   

   

4

22 THE WOOD RANGERS

referred to, The settlement: of this had been commencad
a year only prior to the expedition of our friends. Fifteen
or twenty ungainly cabins were scattered over a compara-
tively small space; which had been named in honor. of one
of the men of the day.

These cabins were made of heavy logs, such as are com-
mon in new settlements, and were constructed with mor
regard to use and protection, in case of attack, than for ap-
pearance or elegance. They formed the sides of a square,
the interior of which contained three cabins similar in form
and construction to the others. The lower stories were
made of the largest logs, dovetailed atthe ends. Above
this, the second.and only story was constructed of smaller
logs,:and so arranged as to project. several feet over, the
lower story, for the double purpose of preventing their. as-
sailants from climbing upon the roof, and to afford those
inside an opportunity of firing upon them, though the nu-
merous port-holes which were pierced in this story. Tho
only entrance to these buildings was in the shape of a door
made of puncheon-slab, and of a foot in thickness. This
was secured on the inside by massive iron staples and
huge bars, and.when once securely fastened, these doors
were by no means the most pregnable parts of the
puilding.

As yet the customary pickets did not enclose the settle-
ment. There was a block-house. in either end, and such a
strict vigilance was maintained by the sentinels, day and
night, that there was little occasion to fear the approach of
Indians.

Indeed, many of the settlers had great hopes that. by
their uniform kindness and honesty toward the savages
they might succeed in disarming them of their suspicions,
and gain their good will.

And hadit not been for the acts of the whites them-
selves in other parts of the West this could have been
secured; but as long as the cruelty and treachery was as
much on their own side as that of the Indians, it was a vain
wish.

So the settlers exercised caution and prudence, and
 

THE WOOD RANGERS.

while they made all efforts to secure the good will of their
enemies, they by no means placed any reliance upon it.
Their habitations, as has been shown, were, fin fact, a col-
lection of forts themselves, and the stealthiest approach of
the most wily foe could not by any possible means take
them unawares.

It is the afternoon of a pleasant summer day that We take
a glance at this little easis in the great wilderness. The
settlement stands upon a slightly undulating ground, sloping
gently towards the river, near whose margin the last cabin
stands. Here and there a form can be seen passing among
the cabins; now and then a female dress flutters for a mo-
ment in the wind, and then disappears within a cabin.
Ever and anon the listless forms of the sentinels are visible,
keeping their watch at the block-houses, and now and then
exchanging a word with each other. Beyond the cabins—
and yet a very short distance beyond—several cows are
cropping the luxuriant herbage. The faint tinkle of the
bells around their necks sound pleasantly on this still after-
noon, Several horses, too, are picketed a short distance
away, where their movements cannot escape the eyes. of
their owners. There are men, likewise, even further than
these animals, engaged in clearing the land’ of brush, and
preparing the rich soil to receive,the seed. The tall tree-
tops tower above them, and ate gently swaying m the light
breeze as they toil faithfully and steadily. The river rip-
ples softly against the sandy shore, and there is an air of
languor and repose around the whole settlement on
this summer’s afternoon that gives it a sweet and indescrib-
able charm. :

All at once, one of the sentinels ceases the monvtonous
tune which he has been whistling for the last hour or two,
and stopping short, gazes up the river with an expression
of doubt and wonderment.

‘¢ What, in the name of St. Peter, is coming now? A
flat-boat as sure as I’m a gentleman.”

“Then there’s no flat-boat coming if it depends upon
that,’ remarked his companion, gazing in turn up the
river.

   

  
     

  

24 THE WOOD RANGERS.

“Tf places the matter beyond doubt, for if that isn’t a
flat-boat, then my name. isn’t Jack Halton. Hurrah!
we will hear from home, and have something to talk
about.”

‘““There are quite a number of people on it, too,’ re-
marked the other sentinel, as the inmates of the boat com-
menced showing themselves.

“Say, Jack, who is that standing at the stern?”

“IT don’t know; why ?”

‘Tt looks to me like Kenton.”

Jack, shading his eyes with his hands, gazed closely
and intently at the personage for a moment, when he
replied—

‘“That’s Simon Kenton, sure enough; he's brought them
through safe, no doubt about that.”

“Ah! see he knows us; see him waving his hand.”

The signal was joyfully returned by our friends on the
shore.

In a few moments it became known through the settle-
ments that a flat-boat was coming down the river, and
numbers flocked to the shore to receive them. As it drew
near, the bullet marks in its side filled them with appre-
hension, as they well understood what sort- of a conflict
they must have passed through.

A moment later, and the flat-boat, guided by the power-
ful arms of Kenton and Leland, touched the shore, when
it was immediately seized and made fast by those upon
the beach. ; :

‘‘Glad to see you, Kenton,’’ exclaimed John Lafland, a
corpulent, good-natured man, one of the very first of the
settlement, ‘‘who have you brought along with you this
time ?”

‘<A dozen or two from Pennsylvania—good ones, all of
em. Here Colonel, and the rest step this way.”

It took but a few moments to make the acquaintance of
each other. It was no time to stand on ceremony, and the
tie that bound members of the same race together in this
dangerous country was too close not to make itself mani-
fest at once. In a few moments, all was the bustle and

 
   

   

THE WOOD RANGERS. . 25

confusion. of Janding. The boat could not) approach the

shore closely enough for the females to land .until.a, plank

was placed connecting it with the shore. Over this they
commenced pouring, all seeming anxious to get once more
upon terra jr ma.

‘‘Thank my stars, we’ve got here at last,” exclaimed

Mrs. Dupont. ‘‘Look out some of you there that you
don’t get run over. Maggie, Maggie, where are you? O
there you are! Be careful now; keep close to your mother.
I don’t feel perfectly safe yet,’’

‘Blast that dog! » Git out,’ exclaimed Colonel. Pres-
ton, as he pitched over a yelping cur which had got en-
tangled under his feet.

' “Say, you, that’s my dog,’’ remarked a long, gaunt-
looking young man, stepping forward and looking the Colo--
nel indignantly in the face,

“Umph! he is? Well, that’s my foot, too.”

So saying, the Colonel gave the person addressed a
rousing kick, sending him several feet forward The
latter ‘turned, and looked wonderingly.at him, but sada
nothing. os :

‘‘Had a scrimmage, eh, with the Indians ?’’ observed
another person, addressing the captain.

“That’s a pretty question to ask. Any fool might have
knowed that, especially if he would only look at the boat
there.”

‘“‘T wonder if ’twould hurt. your feelings if you was a
little more polite,”’ remarked Tom Halton, the young man
who had felt the Colonel's foot.

The Colonel glared at him a moment, when the latter re-
treated a short distance, and for the present nothing fur-
ther passed between them. 3

‘‘Clar de track!’’ shouted Cato, as he sprang ashore,
falling flat on his face.

As soon as the females had landed all their goods, they
received a dozen invitations to make their homes in as many
different families.

Near a score of people had descended to the landing to
welcome the new comers, and assist them at unloading.
  

26 THE WOOD RANGERS.

Kenton had immediately stepped ashore, and gone up to
the block-houses, where were several kindred spirits whom
he wished to see. He was known and warmly welcomed
through the settlement. Every one loved and respected
the daring hunter and pioneer,

 

CHAPTER IV.

Just as the sun was setting, the last article belonging to
the new comers had disappeared, and the flat-boat was
pulled up on the bank, where. the men commenced knock-
ing it apart. This was done, as the planks were of great
value to the settlers, and there was strong probability that
it would be stolen during the night if allowed to remain
where it was. While engaged in this, one of the men had
the curiosity to count the number of bullet-marks in it.
They were found to be nearly a hundred and fifty! Be-
sides this, it was nearly cut through in several places by the -
knives of the savages.

As the sun sank in the west, those who had been at
work outside the settlement withdrew within it, the cattle
and horses were secured, and everything placed in such a
position that no night attack could take them unawares.
The only vestige of the flat-boat was a large pile of planks
lying in front of one of the lower houses. As it became
dark, the sentinels were changed, and each settler secured
his door, and at an early bour the village was wrapped in
slumber.

The next day that dawned was the Sabbath. Sabbath
in the wilderness! How sweet and quiet it appeared.
The clear ring of ;the ax was hushed, and all sounds of ©
labor had ceased. The horses and cattle were as quietly
cropping the luxuriant grass as yesterday; the sentinels
were as motionless and watchful; the forest was ringing
with the songs of the birds as then, and the beautiful river
flashed and rippled in the sunshine as brightly as before.
No chimes of Sabbath dells rang out on the morning air,

 

 
 

 

~.

HE WOOD RANGERS. 27.

and no church tower loomed up in the blue summer sky,
But there were hearts of devotion, and as earnest and sin-
cere religion among the hardy settlers as_in the eastern
cities, where each worshipped under his own vine and fig
tree, without fear of molestation.

Here in the forest, hundreds of miles. removed from
friends, and encompassed by a thousand dangers, it was
but natural that man should feel his dependence upon his
great Protector. And they were; not men. whom peril
alone warned of duty, but men, who, beneath their rough
exterior, possessed hearts ever warm with worship and de-
votion, and who had not forgotten to call on God at all
times, and-in all places.

An hour later, a more than usual number might be seen
wending their way through the settlement. All seemed
drawing towards one common point with sober and serious
tread. The men walked slowly beside their wives, while
the children trudged behind.

Friends merely recognized each other by a nod, without
smiling or speaking, and no unseenily levity was manifested
by any one.

None carried their rifles with them:to church as in olden
times, when the first settlements were made: in the east,
for there were sentinels stationed at all the vulnerable
points, and, in ease of alarm, each man could hasten to his
own cabin, and prepare for an attack as soon as it was
necessary. S oe

Near the centre of the settlement stood ‘a cabin larger
than the others, and of different construction. It was
nearly rectangular in shape, and but one story in height.
One door served as entrance, which at this time was swung
open.

Toward this building the moving portion were making
their way, and here divine service was about to be held.
Within, the appearance of the building corresponded well
with its exterior. Four rough, unvarnished walls of logs,
broken only by the entrance, met the eye, and above, the
ceiling tapered toa point. Nothing but the hard, dry
earth served for the floor. At the end furthermost from

  
  

28 THE WOOD RANGERS.

the door a rude sort of table had been erected, and behind
this a puncheon-slab, covered with a coarse cushion, and
resting upon four substantial legs, served as a seat. The
rest of the room was occupied by similar seats, extending
half way across from side to side, all of them devoid
of any cushion or contrivance calculated to add to one’s
personal comfort.

As the time drew near for the service to commence, the
seats rapidly filled up, and when the minister made his ap-
pearance not a vacant spot was visible, while there were
numbers standing around the door and at the lower end of
the aisle. In a few moments, a large, manly-formed per-
son passed slowly through the aisle, and made his way to
the pulpit, where, depositing a Bible and hymn-book, he
knelt upon the earth, and engaged himself for a few mo--
ments in silent devotion. Then rising, he took the hymn-
book, and busied himself for a few moments in turning
over the pages.

In a moment he arose, and announced the hymn. Im-
mediately a score of leaves fluttered beneath as many
hands, as he commenced reading in a rich, bass voice the
words. Most of the time his eyes were fixed upon differ-
ent parts of his congregation, as he seemed to have the
words in his memory.

When he had finished, he commenced and re-read the
first two lines, and then paused for the singing. Instantly
a strong, but melodious voice commenced the strain, and
all joined with him as they recognized it, and that grand
old anthem, ‘Old Hundred,” swept through the open
door and over the forest on that still Sabbath morning.

The verse finished, half of the next was read by the
minister, the congregation taking it up as before, and paus-

- ing again at its termination.

In this manner the whole hymn was sung. Then the
whole congregation sank devoutly upon their ‘knees, and
the voice of their leader was heard rising in strong, earnest
appeals to the most High.

As he proceeded, his tones became louder and more fer-
vent, and as he appealed for protection in the midst of the

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
  
   
 
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  

 

THE WOOD RANGERS. 29

heathen country, and implored. that the Almighty, in His
wisdom, would see fit to incline the hearts of their heathen
brethren favorably toward them, deep ‘‘amens’’ responded
from all parts of the room; when reference was made to.the
cruclties ‘already received, and to the revengeful threats,
loud groans were audible, and in eyery supplication and
entreaty of the minister, his hearers joined him.

The prayer finished, all rose from. their kKuees, and the
divine immediately gave out the second hymn, after which
he seated himself and commenced examining his Bible, and
running over the-heads of his sermon again to himself. As
soon as the singing was concluded, he arose and commenced
his sermon. \

His name was George eae and he was a_ fair speci-
cimen of the backwoods preacher.

The followers of Wesley, which had not possessed a foot-
ing in this country for a quarter of a century, were —here.
Their’s was the religion for the times. Such pioneer
preachers as Cartright, Finly and, Asbury, descended from
such stock as George Leslie. He was over six feet in height,
broad-shouldered, long-armed and muscular, with a fist
like a hammer, and a full chest, whose tones. were as
deep and round as those of an organ. In his eyes was that
clear sparkle of good humor which seems a part of every
minister of that persuasion. ¢ His head, slightly bald, added
to his natural’ dignity, and a_ finely curved Roman. nose
showed the fearless daring and determination which ever.
animated him, He was a handsome, manly personage,
with, a clear, innocent, hazel eye, and a square, massive
forehead.

He was just in the prime of life, and his full’ frame be-
eae a body on as good terms with nature, as his con-

cience was with his Master. :

The pioneer preacher is not a man who remains within
his own house until his periodical duties call him forth.
He is one who mixes with the masses, and is one of
them

Through the week Leslie was a common laborer, like
the others. He felled trees, ploughed the ground, or

 

  
   

  

80 THE WOOD RANGERS.

turned his hand to anything which was necessary, - When
called, he shouldered his rifle, and led. his followors to
other than spiritual war. Receiving no pecuniary reward
from his people, he placed no reliance upon it in that
BGlsey oe

He was a man, who, with his wife, was beloved and
respected by all in the community. They were honest, sin-
cere, every-day Christians, whose acts and lives were a con-
stant light to the others. “

As the preacher commenced his sermon, his voice was
slow and deliberate. He seemed cautious and desirous
only of presenting the truth in a solid~and succinct form.
The stillness of death reigned over the whole room.

Kenton stood in the door, his arms folded, and his keen
eye fixed upon those of the speaker. Gradually his voice
increased in strength, and rolled on the still air like suc-
ceeding peals of thunder. His eye flashed with the fire of
his soul; his gestures became animated and earnest, and
his whole soul seemed waking up with his wild, resistless
eloquence,

His atidience, at first quiet and breathless, unconsciously
partook of his enthusiasm, Fervent responses follo wed his
remarks, some of the older ones giving vent to loud shouts
and brief supplications, until the whole room had been
aflame. os

Suddenly, in one of the momentary pauses, came the
sharp crash of several rifles, and Kenton, turning his head
for a moment, called out—‘‘ INvins!” and darted away
with lightning’ speed. - The house was emptied in a
moment.

 

_
   

   

THE WOOD RANGERS,

CHAPTER V.

As the divine hurried out, he saw at once that some
thing unusual had occurred. Those who had not attended
service were passing rapidly to and fro, hurrying toward
the. block-house, and the whole village evidently were
alarmed,

Now and then, the sentincls fired toward the wood, as
though the danger still menaced. They were all so well
disciplined for such an emergency, that almost. simulta-.
neous with the discharge of the sentinels’ first musket,
every one was visible in the streets, fully armed, and moy-
ing toward the block-house at the upper part of the set
tlement.

Leslie hastened rapidly to his own house, As he came
up his wife stood at the door, holding his rifle and ammu
nition ready for him.

‘‘What is it, dear?’”? he queried, as he slung the
powder-horn over his neck, and then hastily examined the
powder-pan. :

“T know not, except that. the Indians are engaged ir
something wrong, and every one is needed for the defence
Be cautious, Gisor ‘ge, in all you dg,”

“*T will; and may God help us if we are in any grea
danger.”

So saying, the divine turned and ran_in eo same direc-
tion as the others.

In a moment he arrived at the block-house. As he
gazed off toward the wood, in the direction of the firing,
nothing unusual met his sight; but the absence of the
horsés gave him a suspicion of the trouble.

‘‘What is all the alarm about ?’’ inquired Leslie, as he
caine up,
  

82 THE WOOD RANGERS.

“The Indians have just made off with our horses,” ex-
claimed those present.

“Ah! that’s bad; but, thank Heaven, they have not
made off with us.”

‘* But we can’t stand this loss.”

‘*Not well, that is true; but pray inform me how it
was.”’

‘“‘Why, the way on it, you see, was this,” said one of
the sentinels, stepping respectftlly toward him, ‘‘Jim How-
nem’s boys went down to drive the horses up awhile ago,
just as they always does, and IT stood looking at them.
While they were getting them together, Tom here, de-
clared he had seen a red_ skin’s face off toward that big
tree yonder, and told me to keep an eye to the horses.
While I’s looking towards the tree I seen an Indian’s
feather sure enough, and told Tom to slip down and let
the folks know it, as there was something in the wind,
sure. :

“That very minute the boys set up an awful screech
and started for home as fast as their legs could carry them,
yelling bloody murder all the time. I knowed something
was wrong, and while I’s waiting to ‘get the hang of things
a dozen of them jumped out the wood, headed off the
horses, and, in a twinkling, had them among the trees, can-
tering up the river. We fired our guns, but they were
gone; and if we want to see our horses again, we’ve got
to foller them and fight for ’em.”

Much wonderment was caused by the abealith of Kenton.
He had been seen at the close of divine service to pass _to-
ward the wood, since which he had not been observed by
any one.

There was no alarm occasioned, as all had perfect faith
in him, and many agreed with the minister that he was a
man raised up by Providence for the times.

After considerable discussion it was agreed that no at-
tempt should be made at rescue until morning, when Ken-
ton would probably be, in.

Just at dusk the hunter returned, and stated that he had
seen the sayages and horses. There were eight Indians,

   

   
amage

THE WOOD RANGERS. 88

and they made off to the westward, keeping the’ river on
the way. Kenton followed them a considerable distance,
until he was satisfied of their destination, when he re-
turned.

There were now but three horses left, and the loss of
the others was too severe to be borne. In fact, it was al-
most impossible to prosecute the labors with the number
they had had before the loss, and it was agreed by all that
an attempt should be made to recover them at the earlicst
possible moment.

They possessed at one time over twenty animals, but in
spite of their utmost vigilance, the savages had stolen them
one and two at a time, until on this Sabbath evening they
had made a coup d’elat,

An hour or two later, a couple of horsemen arrived at
the village, inquiring for the hunter, Kenton. They were
from the settlements up the river, and stated that they had
lost so many of their own horses, that it was determined to
make an attempt to recover them, and they wished him to
lead them, and several of his men for that purpose.

Kenton, whe had noticed Leland’s valiant conduct during
the attack upon the life-boat, selected him as one of his
men, and Tom Hilton—the man who had been kicked by
the mad captain, as the other. :

_ At an early hour, it was determined that they should
mount their horses, and follow the trail with all despatch,
Each man was well armed, as it was pretty certain there
would have to be considerable fighting done.

Kenton and his four companions spent the night at the
minister’s house. George and Simon (as they always
called each other) were old fiends, and had known each
other for a number of years. The former made many in-
quiries of the strangers of the state of the settlements above,
the state of religion,*and sent many kind wishes to his
brother workers.

At a late hour they all knelt upon the floor, and the
minister offered up a most earnest and supplicating prayer
that the five men about to go forth to the rescue of their
rightful property might be protected and guided, and

 
 

  

84

brought safely back; and the good man did not forget
the savages themselves, but entreated as earnestly for their
sakes. :

Just as the first misty tint of morning was visible, our
five friends could be seen leaving the settlement, None but
the sentinels saw them, and they waved them a friendly
good-bye, as they rode quietly away, and disappeared in
the forest.

“ Boys,” said Kenton, ‘‘ you must make up.your minds
to fight, fur I cac’late as how them imps will be on the
look-out for us.. They know well enough we ain’t a-going
to stand the loss without showing them we don’t like it,
and you can conclude they won’t give up them hosses with-
out some trouble, ’cause an Injin loves a hoss, especially if
he stole him from a white man.’

‘“‘Hlow soon, do you think, can we come up with them?”
asked Leland, :

“Not much before night; you see they've got a good
start, and they’ll horry up as long they’re afraid of being
follered.”’

THE WOOD RANGERS,

“Suppose they get into their village or among their

tribe ?”’ 5

“No. diffrence; them hosses have got to come back
te where they belong, no matter where they may happen
to be.” -

‘“‘Those are my intentions, exactly,” replied one of the
strangers. =

‘And now, my boy,’ said Kenton, ‘‘ we must stick to-
gether and keep our peepers peeled. Pll ride a-head some
ways, as I think Pl be likely to see anything suspicious
time enough to prevent them gatching us.” :

“Tf we only had Boone with us, the matter would be
settled,” remarked one of the strangers.

“Yes; Dan’s considerable, and some to spare. He got
an idea of the imps when they catched him down on the
Blue Licks, and took him up to Chillicothe, and I cac’late
the imps got an idea of Dan, when they was fixing to go
down on Boonesboro’ with him, and found when they got
there that Dan was Waiting for them.’’,

*

 

  
  
   
 
 
 
    
  
 
   
 

f

  

 
   
     
THE WOOD RANGES, 85

«That was a cute trick,’” remarked Tom Hilton, empha-
tically closing his lip and shaking his head. :

“Tt was,” added one of the'strangers, ‘and Dan paid
them up for all the trouble they gave him. You remember
he' went down on Point’Creek Town with some of his
men; and ‘killéd a dozen of em, without any we ‘his own
getting a scratch.”

‘They never get a-head of that Boone.”

‘*No, nor never will a-head of his,” remarked Kenton,
laughing.

“That wan’t what I meant,” said Hilton. ‘ “They never
otitwitted Dan.” To be sure, they’ve catched him two or
three times';” butla! me, that’s just fun for him. I shouldn’t
wonder if he let them catch him first, just that he might
learn something about them.”

“Boone told ‘me-last summer,” said Kenton, ‘when I
met him, that when they got him down onthe Blue
Licks; he had two good chances to runaway, but didn’t
do it, as he thought he’d larn more about ’em afore he left,
and’ hé woulén’ t have left em when he did, if he hadn’t
found out that they were going to pay Boonesboro’ a
visit.”

“Just what I thought,” said Hilton, “the man that
wasn’t afraid to cross the Ohio, where a white man had
never showed his face, isn’t a man that’s going to knock
under, when e’s got plenty of friends at his back.” °

‘TY don’t suppose any one here is going to argufy the ~

question with you,” said Kenton, turning partly around on
his horse, ‘but I’m thinking it would do about as well if
we should stop talking, as, you re there’s no telling who
might hear us:’”

This rather broad hint of the bitte? s was taken as gooil-
naturedly as it was intended, and they ceased their conver-
sation at once, for they all admitted the propriety’ of what
he ‘liad said. °

There was no difficulty in following the trail, as no cau-
tion of the savages could conceal the many traces the
horses left at overy step. Thus far it had led along the

 
  

 

86 THE WOOD. RANGERS.

river bank, and it was pretty evident that there was an ob-
ject in this.

The day was clear and pleasant,and the ride ssupoinis the
forest was a beautiful one. As the sun approached the
meridian, the broad, leafy arches shut out the hot. rays,
and a stiff breeze blew from :the river, of most refreshing
coolness.

 

CHAPTER VL

_At, noon our. friends halted to. give their animals a short
rest. They had traveled quite rapidly, and were consider-
ably jaded. The men dismounted and stretched themselves

' upon the grass, where the cool breeze could reach them,
and. partook of the lunch which they had brought. with
them. . A bright spring bubbled up amid the gnarled roots
ofan oak, and Leland stooped and rfilled his canteen
romivite.<.

Shortly after, all mounted, and were quickly under
way. ~

‘“‘Hang it, what’s the meaning of that?” asked Hilton,
as the near discharge of a gun struck their ears, looking
round with a troubled look.

‘‘It’s the other side of the river,” replied one of the
party. -

_. Kenton, who was slightly in advance, raised his -hand

_as an admonition to remain. silent, and they pursued their

way rapidly, but with a greater dearer of caution: than

_ before.

‘They proceeded in perfect silence for some twenty
-aninutes, when another report almost directly opposite, and
_across the river, reached their:ears, and, as they looked in
that direction, a thin wreath of smoke was visible, curling
‘slowly above the undergrowth that lined the opposite
Shore; .but-no form could, be seen.

Kenton, as he heard the last. report, reined in his steed,

and waited for, his companions to come uv, when he
~asked—-

 

  
   

   

THE WOOD RANGERS. . 87

ss Have you any idea who that is?”

‘“«Some of them darned Injins, trying to Sicak as I sup-
pose,”’ replied Hilton.

“No, sir; that’s a white man’s gun, surely. Let us
listen.’ bs

So saying, the hunter placed his hand to his mouth and
gave a peculiar whistle. In a moment, an answer came
back across the river.

“T told you so,’’ exclaimed Kenton, his eyes sparkling
with pleasure. ‘‘ That’s lucky—ah! look there.”

Three horsemen had made their appearance upon the op-
posite shore, and were making signals to our friends. Ken-
ton motioned them to cross over, and, without hesitation,
they plunged their animals into the river and breasted the
current.

As they came to the bank, Kenton met them with a
hunter’s characteristic cordiality.

*“*Tom Hanlon, Bill Jayvon, and Bill ENON what has
brought you down in these parts. ?””

“Our hosses. What are you doing with so many at
your back ?”’

‘Standing still for the present; but let me make you ac-
quainted.’’

The new comers were old friends of the hunter, and in
the course of a few moments they were introduced to the
others.

Kenton explained that they were in pursuit of their prop-.
erty, and, in turn, inquired their object, when Bill. Javvon
‘replied

«« Just‘exactly the same thing that you are. .It seems,
the reds have been raising particular deyil for the last few
months, and we’ve concluded it was about time to let ’em
know we objected to their doing it at all. Blow me if
these ain’t the only hosses the settlement owns at present,
and if we should lose these, we would be in a pretty
scrape,”

‘Jus the same fix as us,’’ laughed Leland. ‘

“‘Qome, boys, there’s a long road before us,” admon-
ished Kenton.
    

  

33 THE WOOD RANGERS,

Our party being thus strengthened, hurried rapidly for-
ward. The wood through which they now passed was
freed from the rank undergrowth which had retarded their
progress at the first, and they were satisfied that at the
rate which they were going they were fast coming up with
the savages. The latter, it could not be expected, could
proceed with much expedition. They had their horses to
drive before them, and keep in order, while there was
’ nothing to detain the pursuers. *

It was late in the afternoon when our friends struck the
mouth of the Sciota. The trail had followed the Ohio
thus far, and it now made an abrupt turn to the left, and
led up the Sciota valley. This led our hunters to believe
that the party they were pursuing had proceeded to Old-
town—now called Chillicothe—some fifty or sixty miles
up the Sciota, and towards this point they made all pos-
sible haste.

Finally, darkness compelled them to halt, when the trail
vanished from their sight. It still followed the river, and
it was pretty evident that it would continue so throughout
the whole distance. They struck their camp upon the
banks of the river, not kindling a fire for fear of discovery
by the savages. Their horses were picketed a short dis-
tance away, where they could not be reached without
alarming their owners, and five of the latter nestled closely
together at the root of a huge tree, while Kenton and
Javvon repaired a short distance, and lay down upon the
ground, securely concealed from sight, but where the
slightest noise of an approaching enemy would surely alarm
them. ;

‘Kenton was some thirty yards north of the party, while
Javvon was the same distance south. In this position they
all lay down, and in the course of an hour or so were fast
asleep, :

Somewhere near the middle of the night Javvon awoke.
There was no direct cause for it, but he felt a peculiar rest-
lessness. He was slightly feverish from excitement and
the fatigue of travel, and felt uneasy and restless. He lay
a few minutes listening to the low, monotonous hum of the

 
 

L
:
3

THE WOOD RANGERS. 89

myriads of insects overhead, and the deep and almost
silent roar of the river.

The sky was clear, and the stars twinkled through, the
branches above, and to lull himself into forgetfulness again
he betook himself to counting them, and noticing the pro-
eress of the constellations over the open interstices of the
trees.

But it was all iahélées: he was quite feverish, and too
restless to sleep again that night. Feeling somewhat
thirsty, he arose and made his way to the river. As he.
reached the bank and stooped down to drink he was con- .
siderably startled by observing a bright light upon the op-
posite shore. At first he was considerably amazed at the
apparition, and hardly knew what it meant; but he con-
cluded it-argued well for his own party, for it certainly
showed that the Indians were unaware of the vicinity of
the white men.

Jayvon watched the fire a good while, but could make
out no human forms around it, It had been burning a long
time, and was now quite low. There was a heap of red
coa's, and a small tongue of fire playing in their center,
showing that it was several hours since it had been re-
plenished.

Not wholly satisfied with the appearance of things, Jav-
von concluded to awake Kenton, and ask his opinion. As
he walked toward him with a noiseless tread, he purposely
‘stepped upon a twig, which, breaking beneath his foot,
aroused the hunter in an instant. ‘The latter rose to a sit-
ting position, and demanded in a hurried whisper—

“That you, Javvon?” fe

CSV ens”

“You come nigh getting a piece of led through you, for ©
your carelessness. What are you tramping about this time
of night for? See anything?”

‘Ness i I believe there’s a camp of the red-skins across
the river.’

‘Can you see their fire ”

“Yes; it’s burning now; come down and you can see
at.”

 
 

7
40 THE WOOD EANGERS,

The hunter arose cautiously, so as not to disturb the
slumber of the others, and the two made their way down
to the river bank. Here they stood for a few minutes,
carefully watching the fire and then speculating upon its
cause.

‘‘Must be Indians, of course?’ remarked Javyon, inter-
rogatively.

‘*T spose so; but what on earth are they doing
there ?””

‘‘Some party been out hunting probably, or, perhaps,’’
added Javvon, suddenly starting, ‘‘it’s the party we’re
chasing.”

‘*No; I guess not,” replied Kenton, quietly, ‘but at
any rate I’m bound to know more of them. You stand
‘Tight here where you are, while I swim over and find out
who our neighbors is, "Twouldn’t be more nor right to give
them a call.” .

Kenton placed his rifle in the hands of Javyon, and
wading a short distance, stooped and commenced swim-
ming. It was a still summer night, and the water was
warm and agreeable.

The current. not flowing very swiftly, it required but
little exertion for him to hold his own ground in the water.
He swam slowly and quietly across, and when his feet
touched bottom, waded cautiously out, and as stealthily
approached the smouldering camp fire.

On his hands and knees he crept. slowly near them, un-
til he was within ten feet of a prostrate body. Here he
paused ’to ascertain whether he was observed. He thought
it strange that either a white or red man would allow him
to approach so close.

’ Still unsatisfied as to who the party was, he commenced
drawing still nearer, to get a look at the prostrate person
near him. All at once he heard a husky whisper at his
right demand—

‘‘ White or red?”

_ White, if you can call Simon Kenton that!’’ answered
the hunter in a loud tone, rising and approaching the
fixe, Dae

    

  
i-
18
at
m

ed
on.
his

red
the

a»

THE Woop RANGERS. A

‘« What. brought. you creeping into our camp in this
‘manner 2?” :

‘“‘Why I’ve got a party ’cross the river, and seeing your
fire, I wanted to make your acquaintance, for all the Injins
have been raising the devil up in our parts, stealing our
horses, and running off with ’em, till we ain’t got a half
dozen left, and we’re bound to have some back.”

‘*Tt seems ‘the Indians have been stealing our animals all
along the river, for the reason which has brought you
hither has brought us. We're hunting up our animals,
and, if you have no objection, we will join you in the
business ?””

 

CHAPTER VIL

From the events recorded in the preceding chapters, the

_ thieving propensities of the Indians. will be. seen; > In

fact, the stealing of the settlers’. animals, next to the mur-
derous attacks of the savages, was the most annoying
trouble they experienced, and the practice, a few years sub-
sequent, was well nigh reduced to a science on the fron-
tiers.

Not an opportunity was lost 3 the Indians to make. of
with the property of the whites. When deterred from an
open attempt by the superior numbers; of the latter, they
often lurked for weeks around .the- settlements, watching
patiently for the opportunity, which was sure to come
8ooner-_or later.

In time, this inordinate loye of horse-flesh pabbi it-
self to the whites, and when the settlements became more
numerous in the West, organized gangs were formed, and
proved more troublesome than even the Indians. So se-
rious became these offences that at last horse-stealing was
deemed acrime deserving death, and dozens of persons
found guilty were hung, by a jury of the incensed suf-
ferers.

But.at the time of which we write, in the earliest times
of civilization in this region, none engaged in the practice

 
   

 

42 THE WOOD RANGERS.

besides the Indians, save when a daring hunter changed
the game and stole from them, which, as might naturally
be expected, was considered by the whites perfectly just
and honorable.

The new party, accidentally discovered by the restless-
ness of Javvon, numbered five, so that our little party was
really becoming formidable in numbers and strength. All
that they wished was that they might be brought in colli-
sion with the savages at the earliest moment.

*““Tlow comes it, friend,’’ said Kenton, good-naturedly
to bis new acquaintance, ‘that you have a fire burning to-
night. Such a thing [ should think rather green if I done
it, as it might lviug the reds down upon you.”

“Abt! I only wished it had.”

“JT guess you'd wish it hadn’t, for they’d made bad
work, Just sec how close Icome without your "specting
+ ”

| You" sure of that?” inakidd the other, in a meaning
tone. ©

**Looks enough like it.”

**No, sir; you're mistaken. | You thought you came
out of the water pretty still, but I heard you, and if I'd
only pulled the trigger, which my finger was curled against
from then till I spoke to you, Simon’ Kenton ‘would have
heen lost to’this world forever.” °

* Wal, I’m glad to'find you was so wide awake.”

“We're not as greeh as you thought. I suspected you
were white, and for that reason allowed you to come so
nigh before I challenged you.” '

“Wal, I'm satisfied with you.”

During this short conversation between Kenton and his
friend—Enodias Smith: by name—the “men around were
awakened by the voices, and arose to ascertain tlie eause.
Two only were in sigetethe other two were ane &S sen-

tinels,
After some further, courcrsationy «mith promising to

cross over with his company in the morning and join the
others—K enton swaniback to the opposite shore; |.Javvou
was waiting for him at the appointed spot; and in a few

 
 

>a re

ta
at

te;
THE WOOD RANGERS. 48

words the hunter. explained the circumstances which have
just been given the reader, after which they repaired again
to the encamping..ground.

As they were moving silently through. the .wood, so as
not to disturb the sleepers, a slight noise. besides. their own
reached their ears, and a dark body was seen to glide sud-
denly before them.

‘What. in. blazes does. that. mean?’ asked Kenton,
springing back behind a tree to shelter. himself against a -
hidden shot.;,..Javvon, on the contrary, had leaped quickly
forward, determined.to understand at onee.the nature of
the object.. He made a jump at it, but it. glided noiselessly
from him, and he clutched nothing but air. He, however,
saw. it, again.and. again, made a leap. for it with a foolish
recklessness—this time catching it, in his arms. It was a
man!

“Who are you?’ demanded J avvon, as he held him in
his iron grasp. :

‘* Wal, I was christened Tom, Hilton, denied in Pennsyl-
vania some years ago, but I reckon I'll soon be a heap of
mashed flesh and bones the way you're hugging. me just
now.”’

‘‘Confound you, I’ve a great notion to smash you for
giving us such a scare,” said Javvon,. who then set him
free.

“How could I help your getting dared ?”” observed
Hilton.

‘Kept on sleeping.”

‘Why. didn’t you, instead of getting up and waking me
up Pr?

‘¢ Because I. couldn't help it: never mind, it isn’t worth
talking about, and we have got.other important business to
attend to.”

‘‘Well, I hope you will ’tend to .it without getting so
terribly scairt again,’’ maliciously answered Hilton,

‘‘ Wake up the boys. Don’t you see the day is break-
ing ?”’ said Kenton. :

It was already getting light in the east, for it was a sum~-
mer morning, and daylight made its appearance at an

 
 

a4 THE WOOD RANGERS.

early hour. “The other men weré awakened, and the pre-
parations made for starting at the earliest moment. Javvon
kindled a fire, over which a piece of deer’s meat was soon
sputtering, and the others brought the horses together, rub-

bed them down, and saw that they were in a condition for -

the fatiguing march before them.

While these proceedings were going on, Kanton stepped
down to the river bank, and signalled to those on the other
side to come over at once.

They shortly made their appearance, and- joined the
huxter’s band at their morning meal, and in half ap hour
after the first movement was made, the whole party were

* moving rapidly northward.

Our camp now was strengthened to eleven, all of whom,
of course, weremost effectively armed, and were really a
formidable force. With these followers, Kenton remarked,
that he would attack any force of living Indians that could
be mustered in the West. They were all, in addition to

this, finely mounted, each horse being in the very best .

condition.

The trail as yet had not departed from ‘the river, and
Kenton was satisfied that it would not. In fact, he paid
little heed whether he kept it in view or ot, as he was cer-
tain that the Indians had followed up the Sciota valley,
and were at that moment oe Chillicothe with
them.

The latter town (or Oldtown, as it was termed at that
day,) they were rapidly nearing. The great wish of the
hunters was, if possible, to come upon the savages before
they could .be expecting them, and, making a gallant
charge, capture their property by surprise. This there was
a strong probability of their doing.

No halt was made at noon, except to give thé horsés a
momentary rest, and to decide upon the manner in which
the attack should be conducted; Kenton being the leader,
informed them of his intentions in this respect. They were
to proceed as rapidly as was advisable, he maintaining his
position in front, until he came in’ sight of the savages,
when they were to gather together at once, and making a

   

ey

  
THE WOOD RANGERS. 45

rush upon the Indians, separate the latter from the horses,
and, during the confusion, two or three see to keeping
them in erder and driving them off, while the rest covered
their retreat.

This being settled, the party moved on again as quietly
and rapidly as before... At the end ofa half hour, Kenton
raised his hand as a signal to halt. . They did so, and he,
dismounting, moved cautiously forward a short distance.
In a moment he re-appeared and signalled for the others to
approach.

‘“‘They’re here,’’ said he in a whisper, ‘‘and we can get
the horses, but we’ve: got to be quick. . Don’t fire your
guns unless they compel you to; see that your knives are
ready, and the moment we get in sight I will give the sig-
nal, and we will make a rush together. Be careful and
net get separated. Rush right betwixt the reds and the
hosses, and Moffat, you and Smith and this feller, keep the
animals. in order, and don’t let a stampede happen, but
drive ’em into the woods, and make off as fast as you can,
while we will stay behind and keep the imps from a
ing you.”

Each understanding the part to be acted by himself, the
body again moved. forward several hundred yards. Here
they halted, and. those in front could distinguish the In-
dians through the branches in front of them.

They were halting, apparently in consultation. About
ten horses stood huddled together a short distance away,
five or six of the savages wnenne guard over them. ‘Kenton
pointed to them.

‘¢You see them skunks, I s’pose?. Wal;;you four chaps
‘designating the four by name) have got them to attend to,
while we pay our respects to the rest. Don’t you wait
to” ——

One of the Indian guards had scented danger, and at this
point in Kenton’s words, discharged his rifle. The bullet
cut with a zip ztp through the leaves over the heads of our
friends, and warned the savages at once of the imminent
~ danger. But before they. had time to make ready for the
coming, shock it was upon them. .

/

 
 

46 : THE Woop RANGER

Kenton, in his clear, ringing tone, shouted for his men”

to make the charge, and his own horse dashed furiously for-
ward. For a'‘moment the hunters could be seen thunder-
ing swiftly toward the alarmed savages, the ground fairly
shaking beneath their feet.

The large body broke in disorder and fled, but the few
keeping guard over the horses stood ‘their ground man-
fully.

Kenton seeing that the men had some difficulty in turn-
ing the horses back, wheeled and dashed in that direction,
for the purpose of helping them. As he did so, a young
Indian raised his rifle, and pointed it at the hunter's breast.
‘Quick as thought, he raised his own, and the two triggers
were pulled simultaneously, and singularly enough they
both flashed in the pan. The Indian was pretty thoroughly
frightened, however, and bounding off in the wood, made
no further resistance.

The horses had been secured in couples by the savages,
so that much trouble was saved our friends in keeping them
together. As soon as freed from the Indian guards, they
were turned, and in remarkable good order started in a
trot on the back trail.

It was necessary to hasten back as rapidly as they had
traveled before, and it was more than probable that the
hunters would in time be pursued, and an attempt be made
by the Indians again to get possession of the animals. They
had seen the comparatively small force of the whites, and
could easily collect a much greater one in a short time, as
they were upon their own ground, and hundreds of war-
riors were in the neighborhood. Kenton, knowing this,
urged the utmost expedition; but their own horses had
been ridden so fast, and were already so jaded, that it was
found absolutely necessary to slacken the speed toa rapid
walk, and halt for a breathing spell. Besides this, the men
themselves were hungry and tired, and it required the ut-
most vigilance to keep the animals together, for they had
become fractious and almost ungovernable at times, 7.

 

   

f~

  
 

 

THB WOOD RANGERS.

CHAPTER VIL

In the affray between the whites and Indians, there had
been no guns discharged upon either side; the hunters
afraid of bringing down upon them the other Indians whom
they knew to be in the vicinity, and the savages being
equally fearful of provoking a. murderous discharge from
their assailants.

After journeying rapidly for several hours, our friends
decided upon a halt of half-an-hour.

Moffat immediately sprang to the ground, and, without
starting a fire, sliced up the cold venison in his possession,
which, sandwiched with the rich brown bread, made them

& substantial and relishable meal. The saddles were:

changed to the backs of: the horses which they had recap-
tured, and they again went on their way.

At nightfall, they were: still in the Sciota valley, but if
was Kenton’s wish to reach the point where it debouched
into the Ohio before again: halting.. There was a stight
moon, and as they were well acquainted: with the section,
they continued their march far into the night. At length,
toward midnight, the broad, glittering bosom of the. Ohio
was seen ahead, and our friends, wearied and fatigued, drew
rein and dismounted. . [he horses were secured as before,
Kenton and Leland standing watch, and the others lay
down upon their arms, and slept sweetly and securely until

’ morning. There was little fear of disturbance from their

cues and nothing Somes to excite alarm during the
night. i

At an early hour, all were aroused and on their way.
Several of the horses were lamed and bruised in being hur-
ried through the wood during the retreat, and they were
compelled to proceed so slowly that Kenton fully made up
his mind to a visit from the Indians before the settlements

   

 

 

 
48 THB WOOD RANGERS.

could be reached, and, as was generally the case, the hun-
ter was not mistaken.

An hour or two after starting, and several miles down
the Ohio, it was deemed best for the five whites who had
joined our friends to separate from the others, and cross the
river, and proceed to their own homes. They were but
increasing the distance between themselves and their: desti-
nation by remaining in company with the others. It was
true, that it so weakened the force of the party as to create
many apprehensions, but it was.really the best proceeding
that could: have been adopted, for the five who departed

_with their’animals were not pursued, and reached their own
settlement in safety.

The three men who -joined the original party first, con-
cluded to keep them company until within a short distance
of the settlement. This could be done without passing out
of their way, and was demanded by all.

Tife sky, which had hitherto been clear and pleasant,
became now overcast with dark, threatening clouds, and
the distant mutterings of thunder showed that a storm was
gathering. The wind could be heard moaning through the
forest, and the tree-tops began swaying uneasily in the
coming storm.

“T hope we'll have a reg’lar snorter,’ remarked Kenton
to, Leland, as they rode side by side.

** Why so?”

“Tt may help us off from the reds, kind 0’ bother thet,
you know.”

‘You are satisfied, then, they will.make an effort to res-
cue the horses ?”

‘Satisfied? If they don’t, then, you may say that
Simon Kenton don’t know nothing about the reds, that’s
all.””

‘Have you any fear of the consequences re demanded
Leland.

“There'll be a rousing set-to, is all. I know,” resumed
the hunter, evasively.

“Tt. seems we are not very cautious.”

“No need yet: you see, the skunks will rally like ag

-

   

 

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

eee

9

THE WOOD RANGERS. 49

soon as they can. ‘That'll take some time, and as we've
gone pretty fast, of course they’ve got to travel fast—eh!
that’s sharp!’

This exclamation was caused by a flash of lightning,
which shot like a stream of fire directly across the sky.
The almost simultaneous crash of thunder showed how fear-
fully near the thunderbolt had fallen. The storm was now
upon them in all its fury: Crash followed crash with deaf-
ening shock, and the large drops of rain commenced patter-
ing like bullets through the trees. The wind rising, swayed
the tops, and a darkness almost like nigh’settled upon the
wood. Fora moment, Leland and the others were rapt in
the terrific grandeur of the scene, but all at once, the horses
exhibited symptoms of unusual restlessness, snorting and
rearing and plunging furiously. The next minute, Kenton
yelled—

‘‘Indians! they are right on tg us, boys.”

The hunter had a voice of*unusual compass and power,
and his words rattled dut amid the conflict of the elements
like the sharp crack of a rifle. Leland saw numbers of
dusky forms flitting like shadows round him, and their .
horses bursting with irresistible force through the wood,
Strangely enough, not a yell was uttered by the savages,
but they worked silently, rapidly and surely.

The singular freaks of the horses, the appalling crash of
thunder; and the unexpected attack of the Indians, was
‘fatal to the whites. It was impossible to resist. the over-
whelming force, and ere Leland could well comprehend
what had so suddenly passed before him, he was standing
alone with his companions, deprived of every horse, except
those upon which they were seated,

“Where is Kenton?” suddenly asked Leland,

“JT saw him struck down, and carried off by the In-
dians!’’ replied Javvon.

It was true; their leader was a captive!

  
   

   

THE WOOD RANGERS,

CHAPTER IX.

It was true that the whites had had their pains for noth-
ing. They had now lost all—aye, more than all—for the
brave, the noble Kenton was at the mercy of the malignant
and ferocious enengy.

With gloomy and dispirited faces, our friends made their
way back to the settlement.

A half-an-hour brought them there; thus close-had they
been followed, In fact, they were so near, that the acci-
dental discharge of one of the guns had been remarked by
the sentinels, and occasioned much wonderment. As they
emerged from the wood, the absence of Kenton was. no-
ticed, although the number were greater, and there not
being a single horse in their possession, except such as they
rode away upon, excited the most painful apprehensions.
The five made their way across the clearing to the upper
block-house, :

‘*What luck ?” asked one of the sentinels,

** Bad ‘nough,”’ answered Javvon.

‘*Where are the horses, and Kenton: no’ harm to him,
T hope?”

Leland related in a few brief words the particulars of
their loss, and then with a gloomy and sorrowful. heart
made his way to his dwelling. The news soon spread
throughout the village, and, as may. be supposed, occa-
sioned the greatest. pain and sadness,

The number who had suspended work during the storm,

now re-appeared, as the sun burst forth in glory, and the
threatening clouds cleared away from the heavens, Leland
related the occurrences to his father, and to the Colonel and
his family, who were dwelilng with them. The old gentle-
man indulged in several indignant oaths which we shall not
take the pains of recording, but wound up with the re

  
THE WOOD RANGERS, B1

mark, that he believed the hunter was able to take care of
himself after all, and ‘‘ would come out of the scrape right
side up” in time.

While the excitement was increasing, Leland made ‘his
way to Dupont’s, to impart the intelligence there. As it
happened, none were in except Maggie and her mother,
the father being employed in ‘the erovsion of the new
cabins.

‘So they have killed you all?” exclaimed the old lady,
as he entered. ;

“No; believe not. Do I look as though I were killed ?”
he smiled.

“Well, they shot most of you, I mean.”

““No; they have not shot any of us, I am sure.”

**Some one fired a gun, then!’’ she exclaimed petu-
lantly.

“You are right, there ; ; my gun went off accidentally,
but it hurt no one,”’

“Do tell me what the varmints abit’ es

“Done enough,” replied Leland, ‘‘stole all'the horses,
except them we were riding on, and more than that, they
got Simon Kenton. ‘I cannot see’’——

‘‘Lord save us! I knowed they would; I knowed they
would; they’llrun off with us next, I know they will; yes,
I know they will.’

‘“‘Then, there is no necessity of taking trouble about it,
if you are absolutely certain.”

‘¢O, it’s easy for you to talk, but when you get to be as
old as I am, you will think different. © me! I suppose I
must see trouble all my born days.”

And, overwhelmed with doleful apprehensions, she arose
and disappeared in the upper department—most probably

’ to nurse her trouble, and keep it warm.

“Your mother, I think, is unnecessarily slarnied, ” re-
marked Leland to Maggie.

‘*-Yes, ‘she seems to be, but I think she hardly feels as
much apprehensions as she would lead us to suppose gon
ber words. At any rate, I would hope not.”

‘‘But you have been in danger?” she remarked, footing

 
 
 

minister said—

52 THE. WOOD. RANGERS.

sup, into his. face, as he came -and seated ;himselt. beside
her.
“Slightly; but, you see, I am safe and happy now.”

A slight. flush -mantled her cheek at the latter remark.

. ‘Tam glad to. hear. that, and hope you. always will.
be.”

“And I hope you will, with me,” added Leland, bending
over and looking in her face. |

She made no reply, and he contiuued—

“‘T suppose I shall be happy then, as you say—you wish
I shall, and no one on earth has the power to make me so,
except you.” J

This, although really pleasant to Maggie, was construing
her remarks rather too strongly, and she checked. Leland.
He loved the fair, beautiful girl. before him, but his love
had never found so nigh an expression as at this moment,
and when he eame to reflect, he feared that, he had been
too bold in his remarks. But it occasioned him, little un-
easiness, as he was satisfied that his affection was returned,
and that when the proper time should arrive, he should re-
ceive an-avowal of it.

The conyersation was changed, and continued for half-
an-hour longer, when Dupont made his appearance. As
he came in, he greeted Leland, and remarked—

“They're holding a confab down to the dominie’s, and
although I should like to have you stay here, I believe
they have said several times they would like to see you for

a short time.”

' Leland departed at once. It was now dark, and it had
been night for over an hour. He made his way at once to
Leslie’s house, which was but.a short distance away.

Here he found collected quite a number of persons, all
anxiously consulting about their loss. . They numbered
nearly a score, including the two men who had acted as
sentinels at the time of the capture of the horses (others, of
course, now taking their place), Colonel Preston, Herndon,

and the leading men of the settlement,

“As Leland entered, his presence was remarked, and the

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
  
 
    
THE WOOD RANGERS. 53

‘Mr. Leland, I thank Heaven that.I see you and your
friends here safely back again; but, as you are well aware,
our joy is also mingled with sorrow.. We haye lost one of
the bravest of the brave, and our truest friend. His life
now stands in the most imminent danger from his savage
foe. _ We have met for consultation upon this, and to de-
termine upon some plan of aiding him, who has so nobly
aided us at the most trying moment. At the commence-
ment it is but right that we should. appeal to the Friend of
all for guidance and assistance.’ :

The whole company knelt, and the divine led in.an ear-
nest, supplicating prayer. The fervent. ‘‘amens!’’ that
were heard from nearly all, showed what a place Simon
Kenton held in the hearts of the early. pioneers.

“And now, friends,’ continued the divine, as they
arose, ‘‘it will expedite business if we pursue some system
and plan in our meeting. All know our object in thus
meeting together, and now we are ready to receive sug-
gestions, one speaking at a time.”

He seated himself at this remark, and eee arose, and
gave his opinion. He believed that a number ought to
volunteer at once, and proceed to the rescue of Kenton.
Several others were of the same mind, and so stated them-
selves.

After a time, the minister said—

‘Tt is our duty to do aii we can to assist Simon, but I
very much doubt whether we can do anything at all. By
this time he is, or soon will be, at the headquarters of the
Indian tribes, where it would be certain death for any force
we car collect. I believe that Simon can get along better
without our assistance than with it, and though I have no
right to say that we shall again see him, yet I believe that
he will be delivered out of theigyhands.”

“Umph! ° I don’t believe it—I know it,” said Colonel
Preston, ‘‘I’ve seen enough of that chap, to know that no
red-skin is going to get a-head of him; no, sir! I don’t
believe he’d thank you for sending a lot to help him. Why,
what could er do? They’d get taken themselves, and
the women would have to come down to get them away.

 
 
 

SESS

54 THE WOOD RANGERS.

And then, suppose about a hundred of the dogs should
take into their heads to come down A’re—umph!. they'd
make pretty work, wouldn’t they! Who'd we send for to
keep them off? and where would be this village ten days
afterward? Gone to blazes! I thought you all had com-
mon sense, here at least, but I believe you are all fools, ex-
cept the Dominie and myself—umph!”

A quiet, good-natured smile was on the face of every one

_as the wrathfal Colonel finished his remarks. They all saw

he had the common sense view of the matter.

After a few minutes’ consultation, all agreed that it
would be short-sighted policy to make any such attempt at
rescue as was at first meditated. Kenton was in imminent
peril beyond all question, but, under Heaven, his own arm
was the only one that could bring him out of it.

‘Let us repair to our homes then, friends, and do not
forget in your prayers to the throne of the Most High that
Simon needs them.”

*““Umph!. Simon will come out right side up,” remarked
the Colonel, as they separated.

   
 
   
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
THE. WOOD BANGERS. 85.

CHAPTER X.

The first. intimation Kenton had of the approach of the
Indians, upon the re-capture mentioned, was when he gave
the alarm of danger. At the same instant, a gigantic
savage bounded forward, and, catching his bridle, threw
his horse back so violently upon his haunches as to unhorse
him, and cause him to fall backward.

Before Kenton, could free himself from, the saddle, the |
animal had fallen, and his foot was almost crushed and im-
movably fixed under him.

The Indian who had caused this, commanded Kenton to
surrender his rifle and knife at once, under penalty of being
brained upon the spot. He could do no less, as he was
entirely, at the Indian’s mercy, and handed his arms up,
when he was freed from his horse, and his foot was found .
to be so injured, as to be useless for the present,

During this occurrence, the confusion of the whites had
increased, and they had advanced so much, that none but
Jayvon noticed the hunter’s misfortune, and he, fearful that
his horse might fall backward, lost no time in hastening
from the fatal spot.

The Indians placed Kenton upon his. own horse, and’ car-
ried him off in triumph. : ,

He was taken to Lower Sandusky, which was then the
headquarters of the Wyandat. nation, to be there tried by
their council, and his fate determined.* This being. the
time when such difficulties existed between the inhabitants
of Pennsylvania and the Indians west of them, he found
them incensed to the highest. degree, and exulting in the

 

*The Wyandot or Huron tribe had their headquarters upon the
Sandusky River, and occupied the surrounding country, until re-
moved by our government beyond the Missiasippi.

 
   

  

06 THE WOOD RANGERS.

opportunity of wreaking their vengeance upon one who had
been such a source of trouble and grievous annoyance to
them. :

The brave hunter knew there was no hope for him, and
made no efforts to conciliate his enemies.

A council comprised-of numerous warriors met at ‘once,
and in a short time their decision was made«known. Simon
Kenton was to be burned at the stake next morning.

The news of this, spreading through the Indian village,
created the wildest joy and enthusiasm. Most of them
spent the night in feasting, dancing and shouting, after
taunting the silent prisoner with the torture that was in

_ store for him.

A company’of the savages had just come in from an un-
successful expedition against the white settlements in west-
ern Pennsylvania, and chagrined and maddened with dis-
appointment, they determined that their full cup of ven-
geance should descend upon the devoted head of the cap-
tive hunter.

Kenton was tied to 4 tree, where, surrounded by a score
of vigilant Indians, he spent the night. How he spent the
dreadful. hours of darkness, we cannot tell. There are
times in the experience of some, when even the imagination, ©
cannot picture théir terrible misery. With no prospect of
earthly escape from the awful doom which hung over him,
Simon Kenton must have passed that gue oe -forgotten
night.

-In the morning, at an early hour, the village was in com-
motion, preresse tanto were made for 'the torment. Ac-
cording to custom, the captive was stripped entirely naked,
and painted black. ‘Then, like a living, crisp corpse, he
was unbound, to await until he should be bound again, un-
til the most terrible of all deaths should free him for the
last time.

Simon Girty had headed the unsuccessful party against
Pennsylvania, which we have mentioned, and finding that
a white prisoner from Kentucky was blackened and: con-
signed to the stake, he made his. way to. him, hoping. to

gratify his demoniae passion upon him, ere he was tor-

 
 

    

TH WOOD RANGERS. 7

tured. The renegade, as he appeared, was attired precisely
the same as the savages, excepting that there was no war-
paint upon his face.

He was rather short in stature, red-haired, and bullet-
headed, with a bull-neck, and a countenance repulsive in
the extreme. A fiery-red beard, of ‘several days’ growth,
bristled’on his face, and his small, twinkling eyes glittered
like a basilisk’s. As he ¢ame up before Kenton, he burst
into a loud, inhuman laugh. J

“* You’re a purty-lookin’ skunk, ain’t you ?”

Kenton looked him steadily in the face, but he made no
reply.

“Come, where’s your tongue, you tremblin’ coward ? —
Let’s hear it.”’

““What do you wish me to say?’’ cally asked the
hunter.

‘““Wagh! wagh! found it, eh? How do you fancy the”
fire we're gettin’ ready for you?”

Kenton again dropped his head, and made not the least
reply.
- ¢P)—— it! why don’t you speak? How do you like
that ?”’

As Girty said this, he struck him a violent blow, full in
the face, knocking him to the’ground. Kenton rose again,
and his eye darted lightning. Had his hands béen free,
he would have torn’ thie monster before him limb from
limb.

“Wagh! wagh! Don’t like it much—flesh rather ten-
der ?”’ said the renegade, slapping him on the cheek. As
Kenton turned his fine, indignant countenance upon hith,
the wretch spit a full mouthful of tobacco juice into his
face.

“Now, I'll she this fun, if- you'll agree to answer some
questions which I’m a-goin’ to ax you. Mind you answer
’em right, for if you don’t, all halt won't save you from
me. Understand ?” *

Kenton nodded his head.

“Don’t be so cussed ’feard of wagging your tongue.
You've got a mighty small time to wag it in’ ~ Wagh!

  
 

 

  

38 THE WOOD RANGERS,

wagh! Do you ’gree to answer everything just as it is,
what I axes you ?”’

‘IT will answer every question that I can.”

“* Answer it true ?”

“IT promise so; and I never told a lie.” '

“Wagh! Wagh! I like that. .That’s settled, then.
Wal, to commence, how are the white settlements getting
along down in Kentucky, and ‘long the Ohio ?”

‘*Pretty poorly, as they are much troubled by the In-
dians.”’ .

‘““D——n ’em! not as much as they ought to be; +1
am glad to hear it though. How are they off for fighting
men ?”’ :

‘Pretty well, and they are constantly increasing.’’

‘*Mention some of your fighting men.”

Kenton ran over a number, until he had been inter-
rupted.

“That'll do; I b’lieve you're lying though.”

Kenton maintained an indignant silence.

“Say, old nigger, have you told me the truth ?”

‘*T have.”

The Indians began gathering around now, as_ their pre-
parations were about completed.  Girty, seeing this, step-
ped up to Kenton, and again. striking him, so as to make
him reel, remarked— :

‘Wal, my old darkey, git ready to fry, and all Sime
Girty has got to say is that he is most sorry he ain’t got
every one in Kaintuck in your place,”

Kenton burst into tears, and raising his face to the rene-
gade; asked—

‘Simon Girty, don’t you remember me ?” :

‘“Remember you?” laughed the wretch. ‘ Who are
you ?”

‘Simon Butler.” (This is the name by which Kenton
was first known). ;

he renegade turned as pale as death, and quivered like

an aspen. Approaching Kenton, he gazed into his face a
moment, and then asked in a voice that sounded like ano-
ther person’s,

  
 

 

THE WOON RANGERS, 59

“Ts St you, really, Sime? yes, I remember.”

Ané the man—he who was guilty of the darkest crimes
andcr beuven—threw his arms around the neck of Benton,
anit wept like «child.

The Inai.ns, asvonishet and thunderstruck at such an ex-
traordinary provecding, demanded) an explanation of their
Jeader.  Giety, Assuming his usval “appearance of ferocity,
turned toward them and said—

‘No doubt, my ftrieuds. your wonder has been excited
at what you've just witnessed. The white man that you
have condemned to torture is an old friend of mine. We
have hunted ‘on the. same war-trail, slept. on the same
blanket, and lived in the same wigwam,' He is the only
white man in the universe I love, or ever shall love. You
must let him go, If you think anything of Sime Girty, you
must let him go. Ihave been with you over three’ years,
and | have done enough in that time to show you that 1
have nothing else but your interest at heart. You must let
himgo. I'll be d——d if you mustn't.”

Dead silence reigned while the renegade delivers him-
self of this short speech. At its close, a chief sprang to his
feet and replied. :

He stated that the fate of the white man had already been
deterniized by their highest council, and''they should re-
spect its decision. The prisoner was taken in a crime
against them, and deserved a thousand deaths. He was
one of the leaders of the whites, and had done them injury
before, and if they should let him go now, it would only —
be bringing more trouble upon themselves. He had not
only stolen their horses, but had tried to shoot one of their ©
warriors. He never could like their race, like the white
man, Girty, and he and all the whites they could. secure,
ought to be burned at the stake. ‘As an irresisistible ar-
gument, the chief painted, in his eloquence, the disappoint-
ment and sorrow they, and especially those who had come
from quite a distance, would feel, at being deprived of the
great pleasure that had been prepared for them.

Girty fumed and fretted during the.delivery, and sprang
to his fect in a towering passion.

  
  

60 fHAE Wood RANGERS,

He asked whether the deeds in the past three years of
his life could make them believe him partial to the whites.
He had just brought in eight scalps of that detested - peo-
ple; he had never asked them to spare a white man, and
never should again. If they refused this only. request he
ever made, he should never forget, and wound. up with
“Tl be d——d. if you won’t be sorry if you should refuse
me this!”

A half dozen jumped up at this point, to make their --re-
joinders,

All were: getting excitad. and several were in a passion.
The renegade sat down in a sullen mood,,determined to
say no more. . Many were disposed to favor him, but others
were unwilling to lose their expected entertainment.

Finally, to dispose of the vexed question, which was be-
coming more vexatious every minute, it was.determiued to
take the vote. _The war-club was produced, and passed
from chief to chief... Six struck the floor of the: council-
house, while over thirty passed the club in eilence.

Simon Kenton was saved.

What his feclings were, during the progress of, the

“speeches, and the taking of the vote, must be left to the
reader.

He could not understand their language, but divined the
meaning of their actions, and knew when. the war-club had
passed the hands of the chiefs, that his’ fate had been re-
voked, and he was saved.

Girty arose at once, and going up to Kenton, cut the
thongs which bound him, and said—

‘Sime, you are free to go. where you please ; as you
must stay to-night with me.’

‘* You have not forgotten our old .friendship, Girty.. I. —
have saved you once, and you now have saved me.”

‘“‘When was I in your power, Sime ?”

“The flat-boat which you attacked on the Ohio, I was
in. My rifle was pointed right square at your breast, and
my finger was on the trigger, when I happened to recog-
nize you, and lowered my rifle, Another raised his gun,

 

 
    
   
  
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

@HE WOOD RANGERS. 61

and just as he was about to fire, I turned it aside, and told
him he musn’t do it.”

‘“You’re mistaken, Sime, for I haven’t been down on
the Ohio, near Kaintuck, fora month. Ihave just got in
from Pennsylv ania. Howsumever, it shows your good will
toward me. Simon Butler, there isn’t another white man
in the world, but you, but what I would like to tear his
heart-strings out. If I’d°~known it was you when I had
first seen you, I wouldn’t act as I did.”

‘‘Never mind about that, Girty, you have fully atoned
fort?

““Why didn’t you tell me your name at first ?”

“*T thought you knowed me.”

‘*Knowed you! Of course I didn’t, with that black paint
on you.”

‘Wal, never mind, I say. You have saved jy life, and
if I ever can repay you, I shall do it.”

“Don’t talk about paying me. There’s no danger of
my getting into the hands of the cursed whites again. I’ve
had enough of them. And I reckon they'll hear of me
again. If they could get their hands upon me once, I know
it would be no use of talking. Wagh! but they hain’t
cotched the bird, and I cac’late as — it will be some
time before they do.’ y

~ “T hope for your own sake they never will.”

“But come, don’t let us stand here. Come along with
me.’’ « ~

Kenton followed the renegade to his own wigwam,
where, with his own hands, he washed the horrid paint
from him, and furnished him with’ hat, coat, leggins, moc-
casins, breech-cloth, and a rifle. /

Kenton remained with the renegade for over a weck, ag
it was extremely dangerous for him to attempt escape alone.
Finally, he was sent up to Detroit, from which place he ef-

fected his own ens and made his way back to Ken-

tucky.
Before they separated, they grasped hands, and the two,
although from the very nature of things, compelled to fight

  
   

  

62 THE WOOD RANGERS.

upon opposite sides, took a solemn oath to stand by each
other in every contingency that might arise.

The two did not meet more than once in battle, when
each was wild with excitement, but. they smiled at each
other, and carefully avoided fighting, even in the vicinity
of the spot where they were likely to meet,

CHAPTER XI.

“T would give my old hat, if I only knowed whether
Kenton got out of that scrape all right or not,’ said ‘Tom
Hilton, some weeks subsequent to the events recorded -
in our last chapter, in a onrerente with several of. his
friends.

“T would give anything,” said Leland, ‘‘I have thought
of scarcely anything since. then, but his fate, and-I must
say that I have my misgivings.’’

“Didn't I tell. you you needn’t fear for him?’ de-
manded the Colonel. ‘‘He’s.all right, I tell you.”

“How do you know that, I should like to know ?”’ asked
Hilton.

“‘Umph!—any fool might know it; I’ve seen enough of
that chap to know that the red devils will never get. the
upper. hand. of him, and I don’t want you to dispute
my word again. Do you understand?’ demanded Preston,
savagely.

‘* O—yes, of course.”

‘“We have great faith in Kenton’s firmness, but we all
know, there can be many situations where the strong arm
can be of no, avail,’ remarked the minister mildly, “As
long as nothing positive is heard from him, we cannot sup-
press our doubts.”

“‘Umph!—I told you he had come out all right, and if
you don’t believe me, why, just look yonder; for, if there
ain’t the dog talking to Prentice, this minute, then my eyes
are good for nothing.” —

All turned their gaze in the direction indicated, and

 
y hy

 

  

*

THE WOOR RANGERS. or
we 4

could scarce believe their eyes. But the Captain was right.
The subject of their remark stood in conversation with
Prentice but a few yards away. They waited in sitence <¢
few moments, when he turned and smilingly approachec
them.

“‘How are you, Simon—how are you, Simon,” “ex:
claimed the minister, stepping forward, and shaking his
hand most fervently.

“Never felt better in my life,” laughed the hunter.

“eHow are you, boys ?”

All shook hands with him.

‘Where in thunder—I mean, where did you come
from ?’’ asked ‘Hilton, es as Leslie glanced reproy-
ingly at him. |

“I’m just now from Detroit.”

**Do let us hear the particulars of your diselvs and es-
cape,”” asked Leland.

Kenton then related what is already known to the reader.
Nothing excited more wonder and remark than his account
of Girty. Even though they saw the force of what, he had
urged as a reason for his extraordinary change of conduct,
it seemed hardly possible that this monster, whose name
was already a terror over the whole frontier, could have
been guilty of this act of mercy.

At the conclusion of Kenton’s story, the Colonel re-
marked— 2

“J told the folks not to be scairt. Umph!—it’s queer
people won’t have common sense these days.”

“Many of'us-thought you would escape, but we could
not be certain,’ observed Leland.

«You thought more than I did, then,” replied Kenton,
“(when a fellow gets painted black for the fire, ’tain’t likely
they'll let him off without tasting it. Some of the Injins
were powerful mad, ’cause I was.” : :

“I knowed you'd be back here all the time,” exclaimed
Hilton, enthusiastically.

A smile came to the face of all at the remark, for they
all remembered that no one had expressed himself so doubt-
fully as the same Hilton. In fact, he had given it as his

we

 

  
   

Tar wood ‘ RANGERS.

deliberate opinion that Kenton had suffered torture at the
stake.

“That’s a blasted lie,”’ said the Colonel, turning indig- *
nantly toward him.

Hilton winced a little beneath his look, for he had found
long.ago, that it was a poor plan to dispute with him,

Leslie remarked rather sternly—

‘There is no reason for such language on either side,
dnd if such remarks must be made, I will consider it a favor
if they are not made in my presence.”

There was silence for a few seconds after. this - a
for none knew better how to administer a rebuke than the
minister. He waited purposely a moment, and then turned
to Kenton.

‘*You-must spend a few. weeks with us, Simon.”

‘*No; I cannot now. I must hasten down to the set-
tlements, for I suppose they don’t know what has become
of me there, and-may need my help.”

“Tt is right, then, that you should go, But what is
your opinion of the difficulties along the frontier. It seems
that the Indians are determined to destroy Boonesboro’, and _
Boone, too, if possible, and to reject all our friendly prop-
ositions. What is to be the end of this?”

“‘T’'m afeard there’s got to be aregular sweeping war
through the whole country. The reds are ramparageous,
and they can’t be kept down, until they’re put down.
They’ll hang round the settlements, and kill off them as are
outside, and burn houses and flat-boats, until the govern-:
ment will find that nothing short of bloody war will be of
use.”

‘“‘Umph!—them’s my sentiments exactly, except that
the thing ought to be done now. This war with Great
Britain has about used them. up, I guess, so that. they
don’t feel disposed to do much. The people along’ the
frontier ought to join together and do it. I should like
most deucedly to head a company against the cowardly
dogs,’’.said the Colonel,

‘Tt is not at all improbable that you will have the op-
portunity,” answered Leslie. ‘* Would to heaven that war

    

Re
ms

THE WOOD RANGERS. 66

might pass forever from the earth; but it seems that war is
the soonest ended by makin#war, and the plan proposed
by Colonel Preston here, strikes me as the best one... It
seems injustice to call upon the Continental Congress for
aid, when they are not yet through with this bloody war
with Great Britain. It ought not tobe done. We have
no right to do it. We should band together from the dif-
ferent settlements, and settle the matter ourselves. We are
able to do it, and the heathen should be made aware of it
at once,”

‘Something must be done, that is plain,” added Leland,
‘*We have not yet recovered from the loss of the horses.
The three or four that we have, are unable to do do half
what is needed, and as they are liable to follow their bro-
thers at any moment, it can be seen that something must be
done at once.”’

When in difficulty, the first thing a man does is gene-
rally to come to the determination that ‘‘something must
be done.”’ .It. is the same with a company of. men. If
danger threatens, they individually and collective come to
the same conclusion, and perhaps that ‘‘something must
be done at once.”

‘‘Ts it necessary, Simon, that you return to-day to your
home ?” ' >

‘“*T think it best, George, unless something oncommon
keeps me back. . I think we’re getting the hardest part of
the deviltry down in our settlements, and it don’t look
right that I should stay away. What made you ask?”

‘*T have been thinking over something which the re-
marks just made hate called up. The settlements, as far
as possible, should kee} up communication with each other,
and if deemed necessary to unite in. a defensive army,
should he ready and prepared to do so. I would advise
that runners communicate constantly with the settlements
in this territory, and if you are pleased with the plan, will
you propose it ?” eke

‘*I will; some such a course must be pursued, and now
{ must bid you good-bye.”

The hunter grasped the hand of each, and after making

 
 

66 THE WOOD RANGERS.

his adieu to many others, he left ghe settlement, and plunged
into the forest.

The incursions of the savages became daily more daring
and unbearable, and all saw that the only remedy was a
war carried vigorously into the enemy’s own country.

Kentucky, from its situation, and the many tragical deeds
enacted upon its soil, well merited the name ‘of the Dark
and Bloody Ground. Not only was it the frontier of civi-
lization, but it was the grand battle ground of the Indian
tribes of the North-West, and some of the greatest battles
between the aborogines took place within its territory. It
may be said, that the deciding battle between civilization
and barbarism upon the continent, took place upon this
ground,

Here the combined tribes made a final stand, and when
at last subdued, their power and dominion passed from the
earth forever.

One afternoon, one of the men, while at work just upon
the outskirts of the settlement, was shot dead by a con-
cealed Indian,

A few days subsequent, Colonel Preston narrowly es-
caped with his life. He was standing near the river, smok-
ing his pipe, when a bullet shattered it into pieces while
yet in his mouth.

‘‘Thunderation! who done that?’ he demanded’ fu-
riously, turning and looking around him.

Not seeing any one, he looked at the fragmerts of his
pipe scattered on the ground around him, and loudly mut-
terred—

‘“«There’s my last pipe gone, and the devil knows where
I'll get another.”

He them made his way back, stated his case, and de-
manded that payment for his pipe should be made good,
and if the Indian tribes refused, a general war of extermi-
nation should be declared at once.

A week after this event, one of the sentinels was shot by
another savage at midnight, and several of their few re-
maining horses were stolen before their eyes.

_ Through the day, the Indians often showed Crededdlvee.

 
  

 

  
THE WOOD RANGERS. 67

on the edge of the forest, and across the river. and
made insulting signs toward the settlers. They were be-
coming bolder and more reckless each day, and. it was
rightly calculated that unless.some check was given to their
audacity, a combined attack would be made upon the set-
tlement in a short time,

Under these circumstances, 2 convention of the. scttlers
was called to meet at Harrisburg, to decide upon measures
for mutual self-defence.

A runner or scout arrived at the settlement, and notified
our friends that it was expected that they would be repre-
sented in this convention, and not be unwilling to bear an
active part in the campaign,

Leslie, the minister, called a meeting of his friends, and
it needed no words of his to make them sensible of the ter-
rible dangers which threatened. It was decided by all that
a war of extermination against the Indians should be urged
upon the convention.

This was, perhaps, a stern determination for a Christian
people to come to, but there,was no alternative. All other
means had been tried, and they had failed, and this was the
the dernier resort. ae

Leland and Hilton were appointed to convey the senti-
ments of the settlement to the convention.

Leland was a fine, noble appearing young man, who had
already discovered such admirable personal bravery and
prudence in the hour of peril, as to win the respect and
confidence of all. He was ofa slight, active frame, with a
fine hazel eye, and a pleasant, prepossessing countenance.
His voice resembled. Kenton’s much in its sweetness and
remarkable compass.

His parents were of that practical, unambitious class who
see nothing, in life but a duty, anda time for preparation
to be made for another, and who, simple-héarted, and un-
aspiring as they are, are so perfectly formed for each other,
and harmonize so admirably, as to often produce in their
offspring the most praiseworthy, and yet most unexpected
qualities.’ Leland’s parents looked upon the respect which
he received with satisfaction, and they offered no objection

 
  

68 THE WOOD RANGERS.

to his braving so many dangers, because they deemed he
was doing no more than his duty.

Hilton has been referred to. He was a long, lank,
cadaverous Pennsylvanian, ungainly in every feature, but
one of the best natured fellows in the settlement. With-
out parents or relatives in the village, he was the common
property of all, and made his home in every family. He
was universally liked for his genial nature, and respected
for his prowess and courage.

It seemed singular, that among the settlers, there were
several, of whom he had a natural terror. Prominent
among these were Colonel Preston and the minister, Leslie.
A look from either was sufficient to hush him at any mo-
ment; and while he had never quailed before the most
noted warriors of the Indian tribes, there were those of his
own people who held almost: unlimited control over him.
His courage was unquestioned, as there had been many an
occasion for him to demonstrate such sterling traits of
character,

Leland and Hilton left the settlement immediately, and
after a perilous march through the wilderness they arrived

at Harrisburg. Here they found the convention composed
of representatives from ‘all the settlements on the frontier.
Many of the leading men, and most df&tinguished hunters
of the border were present, and a deep, earnest desire to
arrive at some determination as soon as possible was mani-
fest upon the countenance of every one.

When Leland made known the wishes of those who had
sent him, and affirmed that every man would shoulder his
arnmis in the common defence ‘of the frontier, his remarks
were received with a burst of eee that astonished
him.
= In a few moments, all declared their determination to
carry the war into the enemy’s own country. They had
suffered long enough from the inhuman sayages, and it was
now time that their wrongs were avenged.

The accounts of the settlers being compared, it wag
found that the Shawnees had done them nearly all the in-
jury, and had instigated the other tribes to acts of violence,

* z

 

 
mY

3
1-

G.

THE WOOD RANGERS. 69

A member proposed that the war should be made against
them, and all unanimously agreed to this.

Old Chillicothe was the chief town of the Shawnees, and
it was determined that the expedition should match against
this town. Two hundred and fifty volunteers were en-
rolled upon the spot, and many more promised. Among
these volunteers were the most famous and respected men
of the frontier, and the names of many members of this ex-
pedition are gratefully recorded in the history’ of our
country.

After considerable consultation, it was agreed that the
command of the expedition should be given to Colonel
Bowman, a brave and experienced Indian fighter. Under
him were placed Logan, the celebrated Mingo ‘chief, Har- .
tod, Holden, and one or two others, all of whom’ had seen
such service before.

It was agreed at- the Aejeinineats that each settlement
should be drafted for its number of volunteers, and the re-
presentatives present were instructed to see that no avoid-
able delay was allowed. se

Our friends, Leland and Hilton, having faithfully accom-
plished the business for which they had been sent, and
having been instructed how to act, ence more turned their
faces homeward. After several days they had accom-
plished the same perilous march they had encountered when
Setting out for Harrisburg, and reaching home in safety
they immediately communicated the intelligence they had
teceived,

 

 
THE WOOD RANGERS,

CHAPTER XI.

Our settlement sent its full number of volunteers to join
the expedition marching against the Shawnees. Leland,
Hilton, Herndon, Colonel Preston, and about twenty others
were their delegation. 1t was earnestly hoped that under
“the direction of such men as Colonel Bowman, Harrod, and
the renowned Mingo chief, Logan, a summary chastisement
would be given the offending tribes. Logan had shown
himself to be an earnest and sincere friend of the whites,
vand it was rightly expected that his. detachment would do
good service. '

Just as the sun was setting, in the month of July, the
expedition came in sight of old Chillicothe. It being so
late, it was decided that the attack should be made at day-
break on the succeeding morning. Scouts reconnoitred the
town through. the night, and. the commanders and men
gained a perfect. knowledge of the power.and numbers of
the Shawnees. They found that there were scarce fifty
warriors present, while there were over a hundred squaws
and children, and there appeared to be no suspicion of at-
tack, as not a sentinel was visible. Bowman and Logan
consulted together, and resolved silently to surround the
town, so as to cut off all chances of escape, and at a given
signal, as soon as it was light enough to see the work be-
fore them, make a simultaneous attack. For this purpose,
the men were divided into two detachments, under the
charge respectively, of Colonel Bowman, and the Mingo
chief. Colonel Preston and Leland united with the latter.
f A few hours before daybreak, the men spread out in a
a solid ring, surrounding the unconscious village completely,
except at one point, which, as might be expected, was the
very one that should have been guarded more than the

   

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atomistic

 

   
 
imanenitsisnssannl Dp

THE WOOD RANGERS. 7A

others. Here they quietly sank down in the undergrowth,
and concealed themselves behind the trees, and awaited for
the preconcerted signal. ti °

Hour after hour passed away, and finally the morning
dawned, and yet no signal was received from Bowman's
detachment. Logan waited patiently, but at last began to
fear the consequences of delay. Every moment made it
probable that they would be discovered by the Indian dogs,
or the savages themselves, who were already beginning to
move around the village. Logan waited as long as he
dared, when fearing there was some misunderstanding be-
tween the two parties, or that something had gone wrong
with them, he despatched one of his scouts to find out the
meaning of the delay.

“Why the devil don’t that man give the signal?’ mut-
tered Preston to Leland, ‘‘I never heard of such work;
he’ll make us lose the battle, as sure as the world.”

“‘T guess not; Logan has just sent one of his men round
to find out the difficulty, and they will come to an under-
standing in a few moments.”

““Umph !—how is that feller going to get round without
being seen. Just raise your heads and look at them two
dogs snuffing the air. ‘hey’ve smelt us, and will bark in
& minute.” .

Hardly had the Colonel uttered the words, when both
dogs commenced violently barking, and to more effectually
alarm and warn the Indians, one of Harrod’s men, either
through fright or accident, discharged his gun. The whole
village were roused in a moment, and comprehended at
ence their threatened danger. There was a narrow path
through the spot which the whites had not guarded, that
had escaped their eyes, and through this the Indian women
and children hurried so rapidly that every one escaped. Of
course, the whites would not have fired upon them, but
they might have taken many of them prisoners, had they
properly surrounded the town. The Shawnee chief, Black

- Fish, placed himself at the head of his men, and retreated

to a large cabin, built after the manner of the whites, where
he prepared for a determined resistance.

     
  
   
   
   
    
  
 
   
 
  
 
   
   
  
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
     
   

 

 

 

 
 

72 THE WOOD RANGERS.

Colonel Bowman had cautioned Logan positively not to
fire a gun until he received the signal, as it would discon-
nect the attack, and although it was now broad day, and
the Indians were forming for battle, the signal was still
withheld, Colonel Preston’s indignation at last became un-
governable, and he swore that if the attack was not made
at once, he would go over and help the Indians to shoot
a pack of his fools, as they had showed themselves to be.
Logan seeing that it was madness to longer defer the at-
tack, and hearing the guns upon the opposite side, gave the
order to advance upon the village. The men sprang for-

ward, and finding the cabins deserted took possession of —

them. Black Fish and his warriors were so strongly in-
trenched in their cabin, that the men waited for Logan’s or-
der of attack. The plan of the wily Mingo was a curious
and novel one. He instructed his men to wrench off the
‘doors of the cabins, and holding them before their bodies
as a shield, march in a solid column to the assault. This
was done, and with a determined resolution marked upon
each face, the living wall moved forward. When within
ten yards of the cabin, Colonel Bowman gave orders for
the men to retreat! Logan was fairly struck dumb with
this, and believing that their captain must have been mis-
taken as to the progress of the battle, he advanced to the

attack, But before anything could be accomplished, the ”

imperative order was repeated, and the Mingo had nothing
to do but to obey. He informed his men that their captain
‘had commanded them to desist, and withdraw at once;
and, as the retreat had already been commenced by his
party, there was no resource left. He cautioned them to

retreat in the same order that they had advanced, and to -

preserve the heavy doors for protection.

But the order was useless. The other detachment was
flying tumultuously, and in sad confusion, and the panic
communicated itself to all. The men threw down their
doors, and without the slightest regard to order, each did
his utmost to get. beyond the galling fire of his enemies.
The retreat being partly over a perfectly bare prairie, they

   

  
  

  

wf per

 

 

THE WOOD RANGERS. , 73

received a most deadly and destructive fire, and a disgrace-
ful cowardice seemed to have possessed every one.’

Black Fish, secing the ttter confusion of the whites, sal-
lied forth with his own men—scarcely one-fifth in number
—and commenced pursuing them in most admirable order,
firing»as fast as they could load their guns, and bringing
down their enemies at every shot. The volunteers were
Scattered like a flock of sheep through the wood, and Logan
well knew that unless a part of them could be brought to-
gether sufficient to make a stand ‘against the savages, they
would all be cut off, before they could get out of the coun-
try of the Shawnees. f

Harrod and the Mingo exerted themselves to the utmost
to bring them into order, and at last succeeded in colleet-
ing about a dozen, among whom were our three friends,
Colonel Preston, Leland and Hilton. Colonel Bowman,
also, strove to counteract his mischievous order, and, after
great efforts, he brought his men to a stand still. The pur-
suing Indians instantly leaped behind trees, and concealed
themselves in the bushes, and from their concealment kept
up their fire, while the whites were unable to pick of a
single savage. Logan and Harrod and Leland sprang upon
the pack-horses, and made a vigorous charge upon Black
Yish’s party, and routed them completely, Harrod shooting
the Shawnee chief with his own hand. Assoon as he fell,
the remaining Indians broke and fled, and Colonel Bowman
was allowed to make an unmolested retreat.

Among the Shawnees was a renegade of the name of
Halsey, who was considered, in his way, as great a monster
as Simon Girty. He was as brutal and inhuman a monster
as Girty, but having’ less influence, his fame was not as
great. He had not even the provocation that the latter
professed to have, for he had been kindly treated by the
whites, and had been bought by the British at the com-
mencement of the Revolution. He was well known along

_ the Ohio, and several of the whites recognized his burly
_ form, coarse, brutal face, and loud, panther-like yell, du-

ring the conflict. He was pointed out to Leland, and being

 
 
 

 

%
7A | THH WOOD RANGERS.

told he was the same who had caused so much trouble du-
ring their passage down the river, he made a resolution to
shoot him if possible.

. CHAPTER XIII.

But the renegade appeared to bear a charmed life. The
first attempt our hero made he missed him. © He hastily re-
loaded his piece, and when the opportunity offsred, took a
careful and deliberate aim, full at his breast, but his gun
missed fire, and the man disappeared for the time among
the combatants. When he came to view again, Leland
once more raised his rifle, but before his aim’ was made
sure, he was struck himself by a ball, and fell to the
ground.

His fall was neither noticed by the Indians, nor by his
own men. and the latter not knowing he was wounded,
continued their retreat, and left him behind. As soon a3
he realized that he was indeed alone, he began sevkins
whether there were any means by which he could save
himself. He was shot in the side, and for the present all
hopes of traveling were gone. He determined, if possible,
to conceal himself until night, when he hoped he should be
able to do something more.

The July sun was now blazing furiously upon the woo,
and as he was exposed to its meridian rays, a consuming
thirst scorched him. It seemed as though he should «lie,
unless he could obtain something with which to quench his
thirst, and as he feared momentarily thé return of the In-
dians, he commenced crawling toward the wood, in the
hopes of finding shelter from the intolerable blaze, and se-
curing, if possible, some waters He painfully made his
way over the ground, and as he reached the edge of the
wood, he heard a deep groan near him. He looked about,
but saw nothing, and supposing that it was some wounded

companion further in in the wood, he commenced crawling;

onward again. When fairly within the cool shelter of the

 
 

bP mensch annie inenees

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ae
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1

overhanging trees, he once more heard’ the groan, this time
directly overhead, and at the same time -he felt something
warm patter upon his hand. . Looking down, there: were
several spots of bright, crimson blood upon it, and it was _
dropping down upon the leaves. He raised his eyes, and
Saw a sorrowful sight above him. A. soft sapling was half
bent to the ground, and in its bushy top: he saw a dark
bundle, beneath which the moccasined feet of a hunter could
be seen. One foot was hanging partly downward, and a
bright, glistening stream followed the leg, until the toe of
the fodt was reached;:from. which was dropping. the life-
blood of some human being. The head could not be: seen,
but the deep,-occasional groans showed that whoever it
might be; he was desperately wounded. Leland forgot his
own pain in that whichche saw. _The man, was not more

THE WOOD RANGERS.

‘than a dozen feet above him, and he called .out— ~

“ Hallo, up there ?”’

At first, the man did not hearhim. Leland repeated his
call, when the wounded.man ceased his groaning, and made
a moveinent to look down... His feet were curled under
him, and were stirred with great.pain. Leland looked up,
and'in a moment saw the bloody, ghastly face of John -Jay-
von peering through the leaves upon him. i

‘Is that you, Leland?” he asked ina cautious tone,

“Yes, John; are you hurt much ?” ;

‘‘T’ve got my last spell of sickness this time, sure: How
is it with you?” kod

“Tye an ugly hurtin my side; but if I ican. stop the
bleeding, and the Shawnees don’t find us, I hope I shall get
over tlris.” : 3

‘Ah !—I fear it’s a bad job for both of us. Take that, if
it can do you any good.”

As Javvon spoke, he dropped: his handkerchief to Le-
land. The latter took it and asked—

‘But, cannot you use this yourself, Jayvon ?” ;

‘No; I’ve fixed up my cuts as much as they can be,
and they can't be helped any.” ‘ [

‘Leland bound up. his own wound, which had nearly

 
 

   

76

‘ceased bleeding, and found that his own condition Had con-
siderably improved.

**Tf I could only get one drink of cold water,” said Jav-
von, ‘‘I shouldn’t object to this other torture. Heavens!
what a fire is burning me up.”

Leland’s heart melted with pity at. the dreadful: distress
of his companion. He asked—

“Do you know where there is water, John ?”

“There is a little spring under the yoke, yonder, just
out there. If I thought I could reach it, I would get down
and crawl to it, but I know | have not the strength.’

THE WOOD RANGERS,

Leland made an effort, and found he had so far regained

his strength as to be able to walk slowly over the ground.
He made his way to the tree indicated by Javvon, where
he found a'snall bubbling spring of icy coldness. Taking
first a long, invigorating draught, he poured the. powder
out of his horn, and rinsing it several times, filled it with
the delicious fluid. He then made his way back, halting
several times through weakness. He reached it: up to
Javvon, who eagerly swallowed it; and dropped his head
back among the-branches.

“Thank you, Leland, Iam ready to:die now. I never
tasted such a drink as that.”’

‘*But, John, don’t give up; your wounds may not be
mortal. Where are you hurt?”

‘I’m completely riddled, and don’t see how I have kept
up till now. I shall never see the sun rise again. Where
am [I hurt, did you ask? I am shot in the breast, the
groin and the side, and what is more, there didw.t- an In-
dian shoot one of the bullets!”

‘Why, what do you mean? Who else could have
done it.”” :

‘A white man, of our own race.”

** Not one of our party, surely ?’’

**No; it wasn’t-one of ours; it was that silane ”

‘*What! Did-he fire every shot?”

‘« Every one that struck me; but I didn’t blame fies. as
I done my best to send him under. He seen me and
knowed me, and when he gave me the last shot, that

  

  

 
Qe

 

a
a

THE Woop RANGERS.' ; U7

.

brought me to the ground, he was about to step up and
make sure of the business, when you and Logan made your
charge.”’

‘“Why, Jolin, did he seek so persistently to take your
life 2”

“*Aly!—he had’ a reason, or I had a reason to seek his,
for I had sworn to do it, Leland, I am dying now, and
will tell you what I never intended to make known to
any one. It is not necessary to ask secrecy on your
part ?”

‘It shall never pass my lips.”

“Well, this renegade—his name is Halsey—sent a sister
of mine to a premature and disgraceful grave, and over her
grave I swore to avenge her death. I have tried to do so,
but have failed, and he has now taken the life of the only
protector his victim had.”

**T made three attempts upon his life, but also failed;
still I believe he is to meet his doom before many years,
and I promise you, John, that I shall do my utmost to rid
the earth of such a brutal monster.”

“*Thank you, Leland. Is. your rifle loaded ?”

**Yes; why do you ask? Is there danger?”

‘““No; but I have one favor still to ask. Will you
grant it?”

‘*Tfin my power, I promise so.”

‘*Then raise your gun, and shoot me, to put me out of
this awful misery! Aim straight at my breast or heart,
and make sure work of it!”

“‘O God! Don’t ask such a thing!”’ answered Leland,
with a shudder,

 

CHAPTER XIV.

As if conscious of the dreadful wish which he had ex-
pressed, Javvon said—

**T s’pose ’tain’t right, Leland, but you’ve no idea how I»
feel.”

 
 

»*
78 THE WOOD RANGERS,

_ Yes, I have, for I have suffered much myself during
the day.”’

‘But you are better than you were a short time ago.”

‘J think Iam, though indeed it is not much.’’

“While I am getting worse and worse every minute.’

** John if your wounds are mortal, you: have the melan-
choly consolation that each minute brings you nearer to
freedom.”

‘‘Yes; but it comes terrible slow. Let’s see; the sun
is two, three hours high. Not as far as I thought.”

‘Why do you say that?”

“*T die at sunset!”

Leland was startled at the singular manner of the poor,
wounded fellow. He began to fear that his mind had al-
ready commenced to wander.

‘John, why do you not come down from the tree, and
lie upon the ground, where I can give you water, and nurse
you in your last moments.”

‘Oh! I dread the hot, baked ground, and the burnt
leaves. Here the cool air fans my face, and I am con-
tented to die here. And have you not heard me say, Le-
land, when at home, that I always expected to die in a
tree?”

**T do not remember that I have.”

“Well, I have told the others so—Colonel Preston,
Kenton and Leslie. When I found that Halsey had done
the business for me, I felt an uncontrollable desire to climb

into some tree and die. I crawled out here and got into.

this, just a short time before you got here.”
Leland made no reply to this, for a deep sadness filled

him at the sorrowful sight before him. There is something _

horrible in death—something awful in the dissolution of
soul and body—something terrible in the final great leap in
the dark, and it seemed as though he were now standing
in the presence of the Dark Angel. He was truly hover-
ing around the suffering Javvon, who prayed that he would
not delay his coming longer. Leland thinking that, per-
haps, he would prefer to be alone with himself and Maker

   

  
   

   

THE WOOD RANGERS. 9

for a time, was about to withdraw, when he called to him
again.

‘* Leland, will you do me a small favor—the last one I.
shall ever ask you?”

Leland fearing that he was about to repeat the awful re-
quest he had made. before, hesitated to reply. The man
added—

“Tt isn’t that:—it is only to get me a drink of water.’’

“Most surely I will do that, John, or anything in my
power.”’

Leland again made his way to the little icy spring. : In

’ doing this he was brought nearer tu the late battle ground,

and had a view of it. As he stooped to fill his flask, he
was startled. at seeing several Indians carrying off their
dead, and examining and scalping the whites. He was so
close to them, that the least inadvertency upon his part
would attract their attention. He filled his horn in con-
siderable trepidation, and, stooping among the bushes, made
his way as cautiously and silently as possible back to Jay-
von. As he handed the water to him, he related what he
had seen.

‘‘Good—or, perhaps, it will not be as good for you,
though it will forme. They’ll soon find my trail, for it’s
marked plain enough, and put me out of misery. Did you
leave a trail they will see ?”’

«‘T marked every step with blood.” ,

“Then your life isin danger. Get away from here as
quick as you can, and hide yourself, for it won’t be long
before they'll be here.”

‘‘But Ishould dislike to leave you in your last mo-
ments.”

‘Fudge! Do you want to be scalped, because I am
going to be? There’s no help for me, while there is {or
you.. No; Leland get away from here at onee, and don’t
make your tracks very plain.”

Leland saw the truth of what had been said. .He reached
up in the tree, and took Javvon’s hand.

Good bye, my friend.”

“Good-bye; tell them down in the settlements how I
   

80 THE WOOD RANGERS.

died, and now don’t wait, for I expect the Indian dogs
every moment. Ha! ha! won't they be glad when they
come and find me sitting here, all ready for them ?’’

Without waiting longer, Leland withdrew several hun-
dred feet into the wood, and lay down beneath a large
bush, which, while it’ effectually concealed him from any
prowlers without, still afforded him a good view of Javvon,
and the spot immediately surrounding him. His wound
pained him but slightly, and he‘determined, as soon as dark-
ness came on, to-commence his retreat through the wood
toward home. The Indians, since the signal defeat of the
whites, had separated, and were scouring the forest in
hopes of cutting off the straggling: volunteers. In many
instances, several Indian boys went in company, fully pre-
pared to shoot any single soldier that they should be for-
tunate enough to fall upon. Though they met with little
success, yet in several instances the luckless soldiers were
cut off in this way.

Leland had concealed himself none too soon, for he had
lain beneath the bush but a short time, when he heard the
yelp of a dog,.and a deep, guttural ejaculation from a
Shawnee. Keeping his eye upon the tree, which held the
dying Javvon, he soon saw the Indian and dog appear to
view at the same time beneath it. The number of trails
and marks disconcerted them for a few moments. The In-
dian evidently had no suspicion that the soldier had con-
cealed himself in a tree, and the dog knowing that he was
following a human trail, was accustomed to search only for
it upon the ground. But it was only fora moment. The
Indian mechanically cast his eyes above him, and there,
sitting half concealed in the branches of the sapling, his
fixed eyes glaring like a tiger upon him, sat Javyon, his
rifle cocked, and pointed straight at the Shawnee! The
savage comprehended his terrible peril in a moment, and
made a backward spring of nearly a dozen feet, to es-
cape it.

‘‘Ha! ha! no use, my friend. I’d spare you, if you
would send your white friend, Halsey, in your place, but
there’s ne help for you.”

.

  

   
  

THE WOOD RANGERS. 81

As Javyon uttered the last words, the hammer of his
musket fell, a tongue of fire shot through the green leaves
of the sapling, and simultaneous with its report, the Indian
gave his ringing, agonized death-yell, and fell to_ the
ground. His dog immediately uttered a yelp of alarm, and
disappeared toward fhe village. He was gone but a few
moments, when he re-appeared beneath the tree, and di-
rectly behind him followed the crouching,’ panther-like
form of the renegade, Halsey. Holding his cocked rifle in
his hand, he looked cautiously up into the sapling until he
discovered the dark, bundle-like form of Javvon.

** Ah!—there you are, my fine friend. We'll see whose
game it is to shoot now. Just wait docile a moment, ole
hoss, while I fix my flint.”

Leland wondered why Javvon made no reply to this, but
his silence led him to suspect the truth—he was already
déad, and beyond the reach of taunts and harm from his
mortal enemy, the renegade.

“So, you’ve got nothing to say, ole chap. Wal, we'll
see how you'll like this pill. Guess you won’t bother me
no more now. I wish I had that other white-livered chap
as shot at my bootiful self three times. Wouldn’t I put
him through a course of sprouts? Wal, I rather guess I
would. Howsumever, hyer goes for you.”

So saying, the renegade lifted his rifle, took a quick
aim, and fired into the tree. Not the slightest movement,

‘at first, showed that his shot had any effect; but it jarred

the branches, and the sapling bending lower for a moment,
suddenly righted itself, and the dead body of Javvon
dropped heavily to the ground. The renegade waited a_
moment to see whether he moved, and then drawing his
knife he approached.

«So you’re out o’ the way, eh? Wal, that makes one
feel comfortable, for I heerd as how you'd made your
brags you’s agoin’ to put me out o’ the way.”

»

 

  
    

 
   

THR WOOD RANGERS.

- CHAPTER XV.

During this soliloquy of the renegade, Leland, almost
unconsciously to himself, had cocked his rifle and taken
aim at him. He had never experienced such a desire to
shoot a human being, as he did this moment, to rid the
world of such a monster as the renegade had shown him-
self to be. Our hero reflected. If he fired, he could kill
him at once, and forever place him beyond the power of
troubling the whites; but in doing so, it was certain death
to himself. His shot could not but alarm the Indians, and
it would be impossible for him to escape their vengeance,
No; however much he might desire to do this duty at
once, he could not do it now. He lowered the hammer of
his rifle, and watched the further movements of. the rene-
gade. ~

““Wal, it don’t do no good talkin’, ’cause you don’t have
the pleasure of hearin’. So, I'll finish up the business.’’

With this he stooped, and seizing Javyvon with his left
hand by the hair of the head, he ran the keen point of the
knife, in his right hand, round the crown, and with a
coarse laugh, jerked the scalp from his head. Thank
Heaven! that the poor fellow was incapable of feeling
pain.

“There! if that ain’t a booty, Pete Halsey, then I’d
like to know what is,” said the renegade, holding the
bloody trophy before his eyes, and gazing at it. That’s a
credit to your genus, Pete, ’cording to the scientific style
in which you lifted the hair. No mistake, it war tool
bootiful.”’ /

During the proceedings just recorded, the dog of the
renegade had been snufling the ground around the tree, as
though he had scented another trail. Twice he had gone
to the spring and returned, and still ha was not satisfied,

 
 

 

  

THE WOOD RANGERS.

but continued trotting around the open space, his nose to
the ground, and evidently Wetermined to search out a new
victim for his master. All at once, he struck the trail of
Leland, which led to his coticealment, and announced his
triumph with a couple of yelps. The renegade, at this
moment, was so busy with addressing the dead body be-
fore him, and preparing to scalp it, that he did not notice
the animal. But Leland did, and with feelings which we
will leave to the imagination of the reader.

The dog was trained to such practices as the present,
and he followed the trail with unerring certainty. Right
straight up to the bush he trotted, giving a yelp now and
then to warn his master. As he reached the bush, he
halted, raised his head, and gazed in astonishment at see-
ing a man stretched out full length beneath it. The ani-
mal was rather small in size, and was not of the blood- —
hound species. " He had been trained to follow game, and
not to injure it on coming up with it, so that Leland was
in no danger of suffering from his fangs; but what was in-
finitely more dangerous, there was an absolute certainty of
being discovered by the renegade, unless the dog was
quieted at once.

The,animal*stood apparently in mute astonishment, look-
ing at Leland, while the latter returned his gaze with some-
what different feelings.

“Curses cnjyou! I wish I could lay hands on ‘that
head of.yours,’’ muttered he, as the dog gave another
yelp.

‘Here, you pretty little pet; come here!” whispered
Leland, hoping to coax him within his reach. But the dog
was too cunning. Instead of approaching, he retreated
two or three steps.

““Come here right off, you little devil,” commanded our
hero, ‘‘It don't appear to have any effect upon you to
call you pet names, so rll try something else. Do you
hear, you confounded imp ?”" ‘ ,

If the dog did, he was not disposed to obey. He took
good pains to keep out of his enemy’s reach.

“ Come right here, or Til kill you,” exclaimed Leland,

 

  
 

84 THE WOOD RANGERS,

more authoritatively than before. But it was easier to
threaten than execute. He no@® tried a different plan.
Loosing his hold upon his rifle, he commenced. moving
slowly toward the dog, hoping to approach him without his
noticing it. But it didn’t succeed. He got within a couple
of feet, but the minute he moved his hand, the dog whipped
out of his reach.

Although these proceedings occupied but a few moments,
yet each second was of fearful value to Leland. The dog
had not approached him, until the renegade had seized poor
Jayvon to scalp him. He was now engaged in searching
his victim’s pockets,-and his attention in a few moments
more would certainly be attracted by the actions of his
dog. Leland began to think that a discovery was una-
voidable, and he examined the priming of his rifle to see
that it was ready. He had emptied the powder out of his
horn to get the water for Javvon, and in the excitement of
the moment, had lost it, so that nothing was left but the
single charge within his rifle) He made up his mind that
if discovered by the renegade, he would shoot him upon
his approach, and then take to the woods.

As he looked at the dog, standing within three feet of
him, his tail impudently wagging, and an air of conscious
superiority and power about him, he half resolved to make
a spring at him, and throttle him upon the spot. But this
could not: be done without discovering himself to the rene-
gade, and thus making his condition worse than before.
Once he clubbed his gun to make a sweeping stroke at him,
but he reflected that in doing this, he must necessarily
scatter the powder in his rifle pan, and thus deprive him-
self of all power to use it further, and as it was not at all
probable, or at least by no means certain, that he could
finish the brute with one blow, it will be seen that this
plan was even worse than the first. Finally, he came to the
conclusion to quietly settle down on the grass, and await
the action of the renegade.

All at once a bright hope flashed upon him. He had in
the pocket of his hunting dress several pieces of bread and
meat which he had brought with him as luncheon, Taking

sy
)

   

Vv

  
sy I
4

 

THE WOOD RANGERS. 8E

this out, he tossed a piece of meat toward the dog. He
snapped it up in an instant, and whined for more. Leland
held a piece toward him, He was nearly famished, but he
was timid about approaching. He snuffed the air, but
would not approach closer. However, the brute, like many
human beings, could-not withstand temptation, and he
finally succumbed. He reached his long neck forward to
take the meat, when quick as a flash, Leland seized him
by the throat, pulling him into him. It was but the work
of a moment. Drawing his hunting knife, he jerked his
head backward, and drew it twice across his throat, sever-
ing the head clean to the back-bone. As the blood spout-
ed over his arms and limbs, he threw him behind him in
the bush.

“‘There, your jaw is stopped, but I don’t know whether
it will do any good after all, for you've made enough noise
to rouse the whole village. Wonder if ’twan’t you that did
alarm them ?”

At this moment, the renegade finished rifling his victim’s
pockets, and rose to his feet. He looked about for his
dog, and not seeing him, whistled and called for his ap- .
proach.

‘«Whar’s my dorg, I wonder? ‘Pears to me I heerd
him yawpin’ while I’s tendin’ on this cuss. Hello, Nero,
come hyer. Hyer, dorg.”

“He waited a few moments, but-as the creature did not
appear, he added—

«Qhouldn’t wonder now ef he’d scented more game.
Queer he’s so still; allers heerd my whistle. Ef he’d only.
’ve scented up that young cuss as fired at me, he’d put me
under everlastin’ obligations. Queer! I seen him fall when
I blazed at him, and he ain’t nowhar about now. I ar-
gufy that ef his chaps got so all fired scairt at us, that they
daren’t take off them as war hurt, and war kind ough to
leave that cuss under the tree for me, why, in course they
must ’ve left t’other cuss. Leastways, I intend to take a
look in the bushes and trees, and see if 1 can’t stumble on
some more booties.”

 

 
 

  

THE WOOD RANGERS.

CHAPTER XVI.”

“T guess it’s ’bout time dis yer aclona pusson begun
fur to tink ob trabelin,” soliloquized Cato, who, after ac-
companying the expedition, had managed to drop out. of the
ranks just as they were going info battle. ‘‘De battle am
ober, and done wid, and finished, and, consequently, dar
am no need fur me in dese parts, darfore, de best ting I
can do am to make tracks,”

This, at such a time as the present, was a delicate and
dangerous undertaking, and the negro had enough of wit
to understand it. It had worked through his head that the
whites had been defeated, and the Indians were hunting
them down in the woods. From his hiding-place beneath
a clump of bushes, he had seen the fugitives hurrying to
and fro, and the savages in hot pursuit. He had con-
stantly trembled with fear, lest he should be discovered,
but up to this time he had not been disturbed.

“If dey only luff me be till it gets dark, I can slip out,
and on ’count ob de’wantage ob color, I can slide fur
home, whar some ob de poor white trash would be sure to
be cotched—Gorry, nation!’’

. His teeth fairly rattled together, as he discemed a great
painted red-skin walking directly towards him, For a mo-
ment he_half resolved to turn and run at the top of his
“speed; but he reflected that his short legs were no match
for those of the agile savage, and the only course, there-
fore, left for him, was to lie flat on his face, and give him-
self up to the will of Providence.

Whether the Indian suspected some one was concealed
in the bushes or not, can never be known; but he walked
straight to them, and there paused, as if he were delibe-
rating upon some grave and weighty matter. Cato imag-
ined that he was searching the récesses of the bushes with

 

  

 
Ay

 

    

THE WOOD RANGERS.

his lynx eyes, and more than once he was sure they reste¢
upon himself.

‘‘Sees me, sartin,”’ he reflected. ‘‘ What he waitin’ furi
*Spose he tinks he hab me, and he ain’t in any ’tickler
hurry to carry me off. Dar’ll be a row afore he gets me
away.”

The Indian now stepped forward, and parted the bushes.
For a moment he remained peering into them, and then ex-
claimed in his coarse, guttural tones.

“Ugh! come out—tomahawk !”

‘‘Lorry bless good Mr. Injin!” exclaimed Cato, falling
on his knees. © ‘‘I didn’t mean fur to hurt ye. Good Mr,
Injin, I lub you—tink all de world ob you. I comed ’long
fur de ’spress purpose ob not letting de white folk be on-
kind to any ob your dear, good, nice people.”

“Get up, stand on feet!’ commanded the savage,
spurning him with his foot.

Cato only renewed his entreaties more earnestly than
ever,

‘*Good Mr. Injin, 1 lib wid ye for eber—do anyting you
want; comb yer hair—black your boots, or starch up yer
linen; don’t hurt me, and I'll nebber hurt you.”

The savage losing all patience, caught him by the
shoulder, and jerked him rather rudely to his feet.

** Stand up —me tell—tomahawk.”

Cato trembled and shook, and clasped his hands, and
looked imploringly towards his captor, as if beseeching
permission to fall on his knees again, and renew his prayer,
but he was held up by the appearance of the keen, glitter-
ing tomahawk resting in his belt, and upon whose handle
his hand rested. :

‘sWhere been?’ demanded the savage, who showed
some amusement at the excessive terror of the negro. The
latter stuttered and stumbled, as he was at a loss how pre-
cisely to answer the question,

‘* Been fightin’ ?”’

‘Fightin’ like all nation—slayin’ and. cuttin’—no I
hain’t either,” said the poor fellow, suddenly recalling that
any attempt at boasting of the number of Indians he had

x

 
 

 
 

88 THE WOOD RANGERS.

slain, to say the least, would be in rather poor taste, when
his circumstances were considered. He, therefore, made
an abrupt change of tactics.

‘‘By dat I mean fur to say dat I’ve bin fightin’ like al-
nation to make ’em behabe demselyes. De was agwine to
tear round fur awhile, ef it hadn’t bin for me dat stopped
"emi

The Indian calmly surveyed him a moment, and’ then
reaching forward, took a handfull of wool, and jerked it
from his head. Cato hopped with pain, and demanded
with considerable indignation—

‘*What’s the use ob yer doin’ that? I ain’t hurt you,
*Spose I pull your wool in de same manner.’’

The savage now drew his knife, and caught the wool of
the prisoner with his left hand, as if to scalp him. Cato
would have dropped to the ground in affright, if his captor
had not supported him almost entirely by his head. His ter-
ror was too great for him to speak. He could only tremble
and wait.

The demonstration of the Indian was simply a_ ruse.
Holding him firmly a moment, he speedily relinquished his
grasp, and allowed him to stand on his feet.

‘«Knowed you wan’t agwine to hurt a feller,” said Cato,

with a ghastly grin, that showed how great an effort it was \

to put on this semblance of joy. ‘* Wouldn’t hurt a feller
like’me, ’cause we've allers bin good friends, and allers
‘spects to be.”

The savage received these advances very coolly. It was -

evident that he only spared the negro’s life in the hope of
getting some sport from him before he was put to the tom-
ahawk or stake. He stood as if debating with himself
a moment, and then ordered Cato to walk in front. of
him.

**S’pose I’m a lawful prisoner ob war, so I yields as
graceful as it am possible under the sarcumstances ; ’spects,
howsumever, dat 1’m to be treated in de same manner dat
I would hab treated you, if I had took you—and dat am as
a brudder.”’

The African trudged forward, receiving a kick, now and

 

 

  
 

   

    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
 
 
 
    
  
   

THE WOOD RANGERS. 89

then, by way of a reminder that he was not to lag. He con-
tinued his droll observations, without eliciting any response
from his captor, except some personal indignity.

It did not eScape the notice of the helpless captive that
he was walking in a different direction from the town. He
believed that he was being conducted toward some Indian
camp, where it was more than probable he would be sub-
jected to greater trials than he had already received.

““De fac’ is,’ said he, looking over his shoulder. ‘‘I’s
begun to -got tired an’ you’s no ’bjection I'll squat
down.”

But the Indian seemed to have a most decided objection,
for when Cato made a timid attempt to sit down, he received
a kick that carried him almost off his feet.

‘¢Oan’t walk much furder, dat am suah,’’ he added -with
dogged desperation.

6 Sick ?”

**'Yas, quite so.” ;

‘Berry sick ?””

*¢ Berry.”

“*Me cure you.”

‘* Mighty glad to hear it. How?”

The aborigine drew forth his tomahawk and made a very
suggestive motion with it in the air. Cato understood him
at once. : :

“Come to t’ink I bele’ves I does feel better dan I did _
awhile ago. Don’t t’ink it am fecessary for youto’ply dat
remedy jes’ now.”

“ Walk fast.”

“Yas sir.”

Some two or three hundred yards were passed in this
manner, when the African’s fears began to rise. He did
not relish the idea of being taken to the camp-fire, where
there might be twenty or thirty Indians, blood-thirsty and ~
malignant, sitting around. If one of them had already
nearly frightened him to death, according to the same cal-
culation, twenty would most assnredly complete the
operation. .
But how to get the advantage ef the Indian was the all-

"

  
  

90 THE WOOD RANGERS. -

important question. Running was out of the question. The

only resource seemed for him to turn and engage the tav-

age in a hand-to-hand combat. Cato was certain that if he
could once get his arms around him, he could squeeze the
breath out of his body.

But then he had a rifle, a tomahawk, and a murderous-
looking knife ; the latter especially sent the chills over him
when he contemplated it. The prisoner persuaded him-
self that ifthe two were on equally favorable terms, he
would clinch and overpower him.

So great, however, did his terror of the camp of Indians

_ become, that he actually worked himself up to the. ‘* stick-
ing point,’’ and decided to engage the Indian in a hand-to-
hand conflict. He concluded it best at first to throw him
off his guard. Accordingly he turned and addressed
him :

‘* Does you know how fur it am from dis place to de

settlement ?”’

The savage paused in genuine astonishment,

‘* What say ?”’

‘*How fur is it from here to de dettlethent oY

Even had this question been answered in the afiirmative
or negative, it is difficult to perceive how it would have
helped Cato’s project, as the Indian looked straight in his
face.

‘*Nebber mind—go on—me tomahawk.”

“IT tv’inks—O gorry nation,”

As if from the very ground, a second Indian came and
confronted Cato, just at the time when he had raised his
nerves to such a point of tension, it had the effect of fright-
ening him more than it would have done at any other time,
had such a thing been possible.

** Whar—whar—whar you come from?”

‘*Me want you,” replied the savage, apparently detecting
his exceeding fear at once. .‘*Me want you.”

“*Can’t—can’t hab me; I ‘longs to dis gemman.”

“Me take you.”

Cato now retreated closer to his first captor, as if to nes-
tle under his protection. He had enjoyed his acquaintance

-

 

 

 
 

6 Yin — pi hes sone

 

  
   

TNE WOOD RANGERS. 91

longer than his new-made friend, and therefore had greater
confidence in him.

The latter advanced toward the Indian, and the two at
once engaged in earnest conversation. 5

Their glances and gestures toward Cato showed that he
was the subject of their thoughts. One of the savages ap-
peared in favor of slaying him upon the spot, while the oth-
er very strenuously advocated a different course. He ap-
peared to wish to have him conducted to some other place,
before anything definite was done with him. It cannot bo
supposed that it was from any motives of mercy, for such
an attribute never troubles an Indian on the war-path.
Perhaps the color of Cato and the ludicrous terror he had
shown, made the Indian wish to use him as a means of re-
creation, after the dreadful. contest which had just been
closed.

The argument waxed quite warm, and there was danger
of the savages themselves coming to an open rupture, in
which case their captive would have undoubtedly shared
the same fate as the lamented Miss MacCrea, who was slain
near Fort Edward some years before. Cato, knowing his
own danger, hit upon a decidedly original remedy. He
timidly approached the angry disputants.

‘‘Dar bein’ two ob you's, dat can’t ’gree, an’ as neder
ob you’s can't hab a majority, while toder don't ’gree wid
him, and as toder ain’t likely to ’gree wid one ob you’s, nor
one ob you's wid toder, nor bofe wid each ob you's, dar-
four, I ’spectfully s'gests dat you s’bmit de whole matter to
me, and I'll ’cide cording to de way dat’!l suit bofe ob
you's.”

Whether this suggestion was the means of their coming
to an immediate understanding cannot be known; but the
negro had hardly finished, when they ceased their wrang-
ling and glared toward him. They had decided. He who

_ had pleaded for immediate death, prevailed. The two

glanced toward him, as if to decide upon the best manner of
putting him out of existence.

“Can I do anyt’ing fur you’s?” asked Cato, humbly,
“You die.”

 

  
  

92 THE WOOD RANGERS

** Not jes’ now I hope.”

** Die—get ready.”

“Take me good while—I don’t really b'leeve I could
get ready under free weeks.”

** Die soon—one—two—three minutes.”’

“Pwo, free months, I t’?inks you mean.”

‘‘Take off scalp—nice scalp,”’ said the savage, fumbling
in his wool, as if pleased with the feeling.

“I'd radder you wouldn’t touch me,’’ said Cato, begin-
ning to get angry.

At this juncture the negro saw the bushes move at a
point about a hundred yards behind the two Indians, and a
minute later the hand of a white man waved. This con-
vinced him that a friend was near, and inspired him with
unusual courage.

‘“‘Ef you put your hand on me again I’ll drap you.”

**Poor black man—he scairt ——”

Further words were interrupted by the Indian receiving
a smashing blow in the mouth, that dropped him flat on his
back. At the same instant the sharp crack of a rifle broke
the stillness, and. the other savage fell dead. The pros-
trate Indian sprang to his feet and made off with all the
speed at his command.

Bursting through the bushes, Simon Kenton dashed for-
ward.

**Come, Cato, you must travel; it’s getting dangerous
here.”’

“Tm perfectly willin’ to trabel,” said the African, join-
ing him as they dashed away in the wood.

 

wasabi aby

 
  
  

    
THE WOOD RANGERS. 98

CHAPTER XVII.

The renegade started toward the bushes where Leland
lay concealed; he had taken but a few steps, when he

paused in horrified amazement. ‘Right before him he saw . -
the prostrate form of Leland, with his cocked rifle pointed .

straight at his breast.
“Tf it comes to this,” reflected our hero, ‘‘I may as

well put you out of the way before you can harm me. Say
your prayers, Mr. Halsey, for you’ve got a very short time
to say them in.”

The renegade was still standing transfixed, when the
sudden report of the rifle told his doom. oe ‘his

bands upward, he fell without an outcry.

‘*T suppose it is my own fate,’’ muttered Leland. ‘The
crack of the gun must be heard by the Indians, and they’ll
toon be on me.”’

He lay motionless, and listened ; naw hearing nothing,

began to feel encouraged.
“Tt may be that it will not attract attention, where

there has been so many fired—but, God save me.”

The crackle of a twig, and the rustle of leaves showed
unmistakably that some one was approaching. Leland had
not yet finished re-loading his piece, and he made despe-
rate efforts to do so, before his enemies could come upon
him. ‘While thus engaged, the bushes parted, and re-
vealed the smiling face of Simon Kenton, and directly be-
hind him, the grinning visage of Cato. *

‘‘This is purty work,’’ remarked the escort. “When ;

you oughter been twenty miles from here, you’re stretched

out on the ground taking a nap.” .

+

 
   

THE WOOD RANGDRS.

  

‘¢Very. little danger of my being troubled by sleep very
soon.”

ort).

‘*Not much; but quite eaough to keep me from
walking.”

**S’pose I give you a lift?”

**You will have to help me vefore I can get away.’’

Leland expected simply to lean on the hunter; but in-
stead of that Kenton picked him up as he would have
raised an infant, and laying hia quietly across his shoulders
walked away with. him, It is recorded in history that
Kenton did -this.same thing witn Daniel Boone, some years
before, when the great pioneer lay wounded, .and at the
mercy of the merciless Indians.

. .‘Jest..keep stil], and don’t,make any noise,’’ admon-
ished the hunter, ‘‘fur we ain’t cl'arof the dogs yet. Cato,
Use your eyes.”

‘Better blebe dat’s what I'm dooin’.. I's got one eye
twisted ’round so dat I can see straight ahead. and the
oder turned so dat I can see straight ahind. Ki! yi! dar
an Injin dis. minute.”

‘‘Where?” demanded Kenton, turning quick as light-
ning.

“Come to tink it wan’t nuffin more dan a acorn what
dropped off that, chesnut dar.”
~ Don’t make any false alarms, Cato."

‘*No, sah.”

It was marvellous to see how rapidly Kenton walked,
and yet how lightly and silently he stepped. His moccas-

sins seemed to fall flat upon the leaves, without creating —

the least disturbance, or even overturning them. Tis keen,
restless eyes were darting hither and yon, and. had an In-
dian made his appearance, whether in the rear or from any
_other point, it is certain that Kenton would have been the
first to desery him.

Leland savas carried so tenderly that the prin-of, his
wound was not increased in the least. After he hal been
carried fully the third of a mile in this manner, the hunter
‘walking rapidly all the ie, he listened, but could not

     

 

   
 
   
 
  

~

95

   

   
   

 

THE WOOD RANGERS,

 

  

hear the fellow's respiration so little was ho affected
by the weight.

Finally, Kenton paused, and eased his burden to the
ground. =

“JT thought you were beginning to get tired,” remarked :
Leland.

“Tired!” exclaimed the hunter. ‘Tired! carrying -
| you! that’s good.”
(y And he laughed as if the idea pleased him hugely.
[ “T jest wanted to see how you was standing it. Do ~
» you feel much pain ?” .

“Searecly any at all,”

‘“Then the best thing we can do will be to tote you on
again.”

Whereupon Leland was once more placed upon his
brawny shoulders, and the two moved on.

They had now passed the greatest danger, and Kenton
ventured to speak more freely.

“(Have you seen any redskins ?” he inquired of Cato,
who was still trudging p? atiently | behind him.

“T seen four awhile ago settin’ on de limb ob a tree.’

‘“Did they see you?” ~

‘Yas; dey nodded dar heads, and said ‘good mornin’,’
and war jest agwine to come down and shake hands, when
I shook my head, and tole ’em I’d rather be ’scused. Dey,
darfore, Kept on settin’ still.’”’

“* Are those all ?” ;

“No; I jes’ now seen’ five leaning agin a big. tree, as
though they didn’t feel very well. Dey looked up, but
they didn’t say nothin’, as ml didn’t tink it best to. *sturb

 
    
    
   
   
     
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 

 

us.”
When Kenton paused again, he exchanged words with
some one ahead of him. Leland at once looked around, and
with glad surprise, saw Colonel Preston and. Moffat, both
mounted, while Kenton’s horse was standing hard by, e-
land was taken .on the horse. with Moffat, while Cato
mounted with Kenton, and all turned their faces home-
ward.
They were not entirely free from danger; but the skill

Piz aca ae

  
 

   

96 THE WOOD RANGERS.

of the hunter enabled him to take the route that offered him
the greatest degree of safety, and when night came, he an-
nounced there was little or no danger from pursuers.

The party were naturally disheartened at the disastrous
result of the expedition. Instead of chastising, they had
been most thoroughly chastised themselves, and they might
now count on greater outrages than ever from the Indians.
The settlements would all need to be put in a complete
state of defence, as there could be no question but. that
more daring assaults than ever would be attempted.

Still they could but feel grateful that they, who were
such intimate friends, had escaped, with no one scratched,
except Leland, whose wound was by no means dangerous.
On comparing’ notes, they found that the experience of
each had been remarkable. Allhad been engaged in hand-
to-hand encounters with their enemies, and escaped only
by the help of Providence.

At length, as it was growing dusk, the party halted on
the bank of a small stream. ‘They had just dismounted,
when Kenton suddenly gave utterance to his warning—
oe sh wr

All looked toward him, and by way of answer, he
pointed across the stream. Looking in that direction, the
glimmef of a camp-fire was seen.

‘*Tnjins!”” whispered Kenton. ‘‘Stay here while I take
a look at them.”’ :

Saying which, he sprang lightly across the stream, and
commenced his cautious approach to the camp. In a mo-
ment he was invisible, and they impatiently awaited his
return.

While they were still waiting, he suddenly appeared-
among them. It was plain at once that he was terribly ex-
cited about something.

‘*Boys, who do you s’pose is there ?”’ ©

“They were all unable to answer, as a matter of course.

“ Why, two Indians, that have got Maggie D ipout!”

For a few moments they could scarcely realize what he
had uttered. He then explained that on approaching the
camp-fire, the first thing that attracted his attention, was a

 
 
 

o

 
   
  

ee

 

 

 
by

 

 

 

~~

 

 

THE WOOD RANGERS. ~ 97

female captive, bound hand and foot, while two Indians
were lolling near the fire. He had at first believed there
must be more with them, but a strict scrutiny failed to re-
__ veal them, and he was of the opinion that there were but
‘the two.
;}- ‘Now, jus’ keep still, or I'll make you,” added Kenton,
seeing that Leland was becoming greatly excited, and mak-
ing efforts to use his feet. ‘*If you get up I'l knock you
down again.”

‘But I cannot remain idle, I protest.”

“Shet up, or I'll lam you,”’ motioning him back in his
seat. ‘‘I make a contract to take care of Maggie. T’vea
special interest in that gal,” added Kenton with a waggish

“look. ‘All you’ve got to do is to set still and do ~
nothing.”

“Tf I must, I must, but——”

A compression of the lips, and motion of his head from
side to side, told more plainly his mental agony than any-
thing else could have done.

“T s’pose I’s to take charge ob de ’spedition,” said
Cato, with a condescending pompousness,

‘¢You can s’pose as long as you please, it makes no dif-
ference to me,” replied Kenton.

“‘T’s to hab charge ob de resarve forces den; dat satis-
fies me quite as muchly as active sarvice.”’

“J want you, Moffat,” said the hunter, ‘‘and.no one
else. We'll wait till it get’s dark, and then sail in.’

“ Must you wait till then,” entreated Leland.

«<Tt will not be long,” replied Moffat, who felt.a sympa-
thy for the miserable young man. ‘‘ You See we want to
be sure, and it is getting dark very fast, so it ’Il not be long
we have to wait.”

“‘How could she have been captured ?”

“Queer,” answered Kenton, *‘Can’t exactly see how it
was. They can’t have had her long—must have been to-
day.” :

“Do you think they have injured her?”

“She don’t look like it. They’re taking her away to

 
      
  

98 THE WOOD RANGERS.

the village, and don’t dream that any of us are in the nelzh-
borhood.”’ ;

“Td like to know what's being going on at the settle-
ment since we leit,’ said Colonel Preston, in an anxious
manner, -

“*Can’t be that the Indians have been there during our
absence,’’ added Leland.

“Heavens! no, Don’t you s’pose they would have had

      
      
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
    

more than one prisoner? And wouldn’t there have been by
more than do Jndians engaged in it?’ asked Moffat, in-
quiringly.

They conversed together for a few moments longer, when,
as the night was fairly upon them, Moffat and Kenton set
out upon their expedition. They admonished those that
were left behind not to approach under any circumstances,
but to remain where thoy were until the affair was finally
settled,

For fully a balf hour after the departure of the scouts,
not a sound broke the stillness. When our friends spoke,
it was in hurried whispers, for they were all listenin in-
tently for the turmoil of the affray.

All at once, the sharp crack of a rifle seemed to cut |
through the still air, and then the fearfulkhowl of a human x

, told how deadly had been the aim. |

Stillness again succeeded, and was not broken until

» Simon Kenton and Moffat appeared, bearing ie a them
the fainting form of Maggie Dupont.

 

 

 
|
|
|

 

 

  

  

THE WOOD RANGERS. i 99

 
 

  

CHAPTER XVIII.

“Just what I always told you. I knowed you would all
be killed by the nasty, good-for-nothing dirty Indians; I
knowed they, would take us all. prisoners;.and tomahawk,
and scalp, and burn, and shoot, and tear to pieces all of us.
J knowed it—I knowed it—I knowed it.’”’

Such was the vigorous exclamation of Mrs. Dupont,
when her daughter Maggie (who had been captured by the
two Indians, while wandering on the outskirts of the set-

_ tlement) was restored to her, and she learned that young

Leland, Colonel Preston, Kenton, Moffat, and others had
returned safely from the, disastrous expedition. :

‘But is not your daughter now safely restored to you?”
said the Minister. ‘You should certainly be thankful for
that. How fortunate it is also that so many of our friends
have been restored to us.”

‘“©Yes; and how thankful I should be if we are ever re-
stored back to our homes again, where we ought to have
staid, and never come to this heathenish, outlandish, good-
for-nothing country.”

The Minister smiled in his score manner, and
turned away.

* a . e * ” *

“Kil yi! cl’ar de track!” shouted Cato, as he shuffled
to the center of the sanded floor, late in the evening of the
wedding of George Leland oe Maggie Dupont. “OE ar de
track; it’s my turn, now.’

Cato had been sawing at the violin for four ER hours,
pausing only occasionally to rosin the bow, or to swallow
some strong cider.

 
“100 THE WOOD RANGERS.

He now relinquished his instrument into, the hand
Moffat, the scout, who played it quite as well as hin
and as the dancers made room, Cato let his head fall I
on his shoulders, held his arms motionless, and commenced
the ‘‘double back-action shuffle,’’ much in the same man-
ner that an epicure would sit down to his choice viands and
good things.

“ Ki! yi!’ he shouted, as he warmed up with the ex
ercise. :

Soon he began his “extra” touches. Falling down so
as to strike his knees, elbows, head and heels, and keep
good time, he came upon his feet again, then went over
backwards, making every bump correspond with the scrap-
ing of Moffat’s bow.

Finally, with a whoop and shout the African sented amid
the enthusiastic plaudits of the spectators.

And here it is proper that we drop the curtain. upon the
characters who have figured i in these pages,

The subsequent exploits of Simon Kenton belongs to
American history, and we trust that we have succeeded in
showing the reader some of the trials and sufferings to
which our ancestors in the Great West were frequently

* exposed,

THE END.

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

‘To be Issued Dee. ey

IRWIN P. BEADLE’S-
AMERICAN TALES, No. 3,

The Green Mountain Boys :

A Cale ot 1777.

Our nation has just passed through its terrible ordeal—purified |}
as is gold by fire. The heroes, the martyrs—their deeds and theit))
names can never die. They shall live through all coming time; |
but in cherishing their memories we shall also revert with pride to
the American Revolution—to the heroes and martyrs of that time. J
Among the multitude that throng at once upon our recollection is |
the staunch old German patriot—General Starke—who, with his-
invincible Green Mountain Boys, did so much to roll back the ti
of British invasion, and to emancipate our country. In the above-
named Tale, the General figures conspicuously, and none can lay"
aside the charming narrative without a glow of a pride i iu |
recalling the deeds of our patriot ancestors. _

The American Tales are for sale by all Booksellers and Nowe
Agents, and are sent, post-paid, on receipt of price—10 cts,

Irwin P. Beadle,

SU BLISR Ee Nos. 51 & 58 ANNE Sr, N.Y.
3

AmeErIoan NOvELs, No.1" THE OCEAN PEARL.”—The
success which ee the publication of this thrilling Sea Tale
—five complete editions having already been printed and disposed,
of—is ample evidence of the merit of the Story, and highly flatters ™%
ing to the Publisher, who takes this opportunity of cordially aé
knowledging the generous patronage which has been bestowed 41
his efforts by a discriminating Public. ;