University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.
A GLIMPSE OF THE FUGITIVE.

Frank Lee did not ride many miles further, before he met the return party
of ladies. Kate was riding on ahead of the now melancholy little cortege,
weeping quite bitterly, and her eyes were so blinded, and her thoughts so
absorbed, that she did not perceive the horsemen approaching, until Frank
reined up right along side of her.

A smile broke over her sunny face, as she perceived Frank shaking his
finger threateningly at her.

“I will give a good account of those bright drops, some of these long
nights, around our watch fires, and will guarantee that I find one interested
auditor, at least.”

Kate waved her hand in adien, and putting whip to her horse, cantered off on
her way, calling out after him, over her shoulder, “Filial tears, filial tears,
Mr. Lee.”

And thus the last link was severed between the daughters of the city and
the mountain adventurers.

It must be remembered that the vast territories since claimed for Virginia,
extending almost, if not quite, to the Pacific Ocean, owed their titles to the
very expedition which we have been thus departing from the ancient capital.
But it was quite different in those primitive days; the whole population was
contained in some twenty or thirty counties, and the present sites of some of
our most populous cities were then actually on the frontier, so that our adventurers
had to march but a short distance before they were beyond the reach of
the thickly settled regions.

Our readers must cast their thoughts back to the days far anterior to McAdamized
roads, steamboats, and railroads, and imagine to themselves, if they
can, a state of things in the Old Dominion, when sumpter mules and baggage
wagons of a rude sort, performed all the offices now so rapidly accomplished
by these modern inventions. Some idea may be realized of the primitive state
of the country, and how completely the population was shut up within the
tide water region, when we state, upon undoubted authority, that among the
great number of horses employed in the enterprise which we have just seen
under way, not one had ever been shod. Those persons living in the sandy
regions of the United States will readily conceive this, but it will be almost
incredible to those who now dwell in those favored vales, first discovered and
appreciated by this very expedition. Such was the fact, as will be seen hereafter,

by the remarkable circumstance from which our humble narrative takes
its name.

For the first day, however, no inconvenience was inexperienced. Never
did a happier or more jovial little army set out in search of adventures. The
old military veteran, their commander, was so well pleased himself that his
long desired scheme was really about to be accomplished, that he did not, for
the present, quarrel with the rude gaiety of those around him. Those, however,
who knew him well, knew, also, that this state of things would not last
long—that, in a day or two's march, they would enter a country filled with
savages.

With the route of the first few day's journey, the Governor was perfectly
familiar. He had more than once passed over the ground, and had, as we
have before stated, established Indian preparatory schools throughout the districts
inhabited by the tributary Indians.

He was now quite anxious to see what influence Chunoluskee and his associates
had been able to exercise over these, and he had it in contemplation
to time the march, so as to arrive at the end of the sacred day at the first of
these schools, lying within his proposed route.

Though we have seen the Governor permit a somewhat lax discipline to
prevail upon emerging from the city, there were already symptoms that this
state of things would not last long. He soon summoned his aids and the
scout to his side, and was busily detailing to them his commands, as to the
conduct of the men during the march and in camp—and consulting with the
latter as to the route, forage, and subsistence. The latter subject gave him
far more uneasiness than any apprehended danger from the savages; and how
hundreds of men, and as many horses and mules, were to be subsisted in an
entirely new and uncultivated country, an unexplored wilderness in fact, was
a subject of anxious reflection with him. He knew that the supplies contained
in his baggage wagons and haversacks would scarcely last him beyond the
extreme frontier settlements. Though he was a tried soldier from his very
infancy, it must be recollected that his present adventure was as new to him
in practice, as to the youthful aid by his side.

Our readers may think that he consulted strange counsel in the person of
Red Jarvis, but so it was; and of all that army, perhaps, he was the very
man best calculated to give advice—in his own way, to be sure. He felt no
doubts and misgivings like his superior—he felt as confident as he had done
many a time before, when a hundred miles from the settlements, with no other
protection and provision for the morrow except his trusty firelock. And as he
had done, so he advised the whole army to do—literally to turn it into a
great hunting party. The Governor was amused at the conceit, but he
would not hear of the scheme for a moment. Nevertheless, the idea was
serviceable, for it suggested the plan of detailing each day, parties for the
purpose of killing game for the subsistence of the party.

He was pleased to find, as they emerged deeper into the forest, that the
foliage became richer, and the grass more abundant. These were matters
which now became of great moment, insignificant as they appear at the first
glance, the whole success of the expedition in fact depending upon them.

Joe Jarvis was no sooner dismissed from the conference with the Governor,
than he struck out into the woods, ahead of the troops, and began blazing
away at the trees, as already described. He seemed to Frank Lee, who
accompanied him, to know every foot of the ground, and likewise when game
might be looked for, and when not. They had not travelled many miles
through the wild and solitary forest, before Joe dismounted from his tackey,
and handing the bundle to Frank, motioned with his hand for him to pause,
and be silent. He moved stealthily through the bushes, examining his priming
as he went, until he entirely disappeared from sight. In about fifteen
minutes Frank heard the report of his gun, and as it appeared to him, but an

instant after, a fine herd of deer came leaping over the tops of the bushes,
and almost within pistol shot of where he sat upon his horse, his gun being
unfortunately slung to his back. While he made a movement to bring it
around, they all stopped and stared at him for a moment, and then bounded
away like the wind. Joe had been a spectator of this scene, and emerged
from the bushes, wiping his bloody knife, and laughing in his chuckling way,
at Frank's discomfiture and chagrin.

“Now,” said he, “you see the reason why I alway carry my gun in my
hand. You asked me a while ago, and I promised to show you.”

Frank immediately unstrapped his firelock, and wound up the leather straps
and put them by, as if to show his teacher that he was determined to improve
by his practical lessons.

“Well, Jarvis, what did you kill?”

“As fine a buck as ever you laid your eyes upon; you remember the
Governor's talk, about the subsistence of the army?—you see, I'm going to
show him the way we hunters provide for our daily wants.”

By this time they had arrived at the head of a small stream, where Joe said
the deer were in the habit of drinking, the water being a little brackish, of
which they are very fond. He slung the fine animal, whose throat he had
just cut, across his pony, and after securing it with thongs, and reloading
his piece, proceeded by the side of Lee, talking all the while. He told him
that more of the ruffle shirt gentry, as he loved to call them, would unsling
their arms, before they had proceeded many days into the wilderness. Frank
observed that Joe's attention was carnestly directed to each side of the path
on which they were travelling, notwithstanding his constant stream of talk,
and stopping every minute to blaze a tree. He saw that Jarvis stooped down
and examined the bushes attentively every now and then, and when they
came to the ford of the little stream upon whose banks they had been some
travelling, Joe laid his hand upon the other's bridle rein, and then stooped
down, and most attentively scanned some tracks of horses' hoofs, left in the
soft mud of the opposite bank, and then carefully counted them. Frank asked
him what was the meaning of all this, and if he had fallen upon the Indian trail?

“I rather suspicion I have,” said Joe; “and more nor that, there is some
one with them that would as soon be out of their clutches.”

“How do you know, Jarvis?”

“Why, at every place where they have stopped, I find a twig bent down
or broken. I reckon it is that little coquit, the interpreter's sister. She
would be glad enough to see me now, I suppose.”

“How long do you think it is since they forded the little stream, whose
banks you have examined so carefully?

“Jist about daylight; and they were riding at a devil of a rate, you may
be sure—look here,” said the scout, and he placed his foot in one track and
the butt of his gun in the other, to indicate the length of the leaps which
the animal had taken.

“A slapping pace, indeed,” said Frank, thoughtfully; “but tell me, Joe,
how can you compute the time since they passed?”

“Why jist so; if they had jist now passed, you would see the splashing
of the water around the tracks—if a little longer, you would see that all dried
up, and the tracks themselves only moist—and longer still, the tracks would
be entirely dry.”

“Which latter is the case, is it?”

“Very near, very near—they mout a' passed a little arter daylight, but not
much; we'll hear from 'em to-night—the red devils—depend upon it.”

“Do you think so?”

“To be sure I do—I know the critters better nor the Governor and old
parson Blair, with all their schooling and christianizing of the ungrateful
varmints. An Ingin's an Ingin.”

“What is there so absurd in the idea, Joe?”

“Did you ever see a wolf tamed?”

“No, I cannot say that I ever did, but I think it possible.”

“Yes, I'll warrant; and so the Governor thinks of the red devils; but I
saw a tamed wolf once, and he had a wonderful good charecter for a while.
He was better behaved nor any sheep, and he would walk about among the
flock as if he was bound to teach 'em good manners; but bime by the lambs
began to be missed, and nearly every dog on the plantation was killed, on
suspicion of being suspected. Still the lambs went, and after a while they
laid a watch, and caught wolfy in the very act.”

“And what then?”

“Why they stretched his bloody neck, of course.”

“And do you think this an analagous case to that of the interpreter and
his associates?”

“Exactly! no good kin come out of an Ingin. I've hearn tell of all the
grand talk about their native gifts, and all that, but if you will listen to my
racket, you may build a college over every son of a gun of 'em, and clap a
church on the tip top o' that, and after all, he will have a turkey buzzard's
heart in him. God never made an Ingin for a human critter.”

“Pooh, pooh, Joe, you have imbibed all the prejudices of the early hunters
against the race. Do you know that our ancestors on the other side of the
water, many hundred years ago, were quite as savage and barbarous as these
poor red men?”

“Bless my soul—you don't tell me so. Well, that beats all natur, I never
hearn tell of that afore. I thought they were white, and came down Christians,
along side of the Bible, the whole way.”

“So they were always white, Joe; but what do you mean by coming
down Christians, along side of the Bible?”

“Why, you know that old Adam was a white man—you'll give that up,
I reckon?”

“I suppose I must, Joe.”

“Well, that's what I mean; that we came down straight from old Adam,
and brought the Bible all the way down with us.”

“You are entirely mistaken, Joe; neither the Old nor the New Testament
was given to our British ancestors. Even when our Saviour appeared upon the
earth, they were as great savages as these very red men, against whom
you are so prejudiced.”

“Good, gracious Heavens! you don't say so! then we are not Christian
born under the covenant, as my old dad used to say, after all! Well, this
puts a patching over any thing I hearn tell of; but you're making game of
me, with all your book larnin.”

“No, Joe, I am not; I've told you nothing but the plain truth.”

“Well, then, how come we to be white, tell me that?”

“A red skin and a savage nature are not always inseparable; all the
learning and refinement of the world have been transmitted to us through
dark skins.”

“Oh! you are a bamboozlin' of me, that's plain.”

“No, I am not; but tell me, Joe, how is it that you are supposed to have
a fancy for one of these red skins yourself.”

“Oh, Squire, there you have flung me. I give it up now, you've clean got
the upper side of me in the argument.”

“But explain it, Joe—how could you fall in love with the daughter of a
race you so thoroughly despise?”

“Well, now, it does beat all natur', that's a fact. How it ever came
about, was jist a little touch above my larnin'.”

“You plead guilty to the charge, however?”

“It's not worth the while to deny it, seeing every body seems to know it.

Even old dad got wind of it somehow; and he told me if ever I married an
Ingin squaw, he would disinherit me. Poor old man, the only thing he ever
had to leave me, I've got already.”

“What's that?”

“Why, his red head—and I believe it was this infernal red mop of mine
that got me into the scrape, too.”

“How was that?”

“The Ingins, you know, have all sorts of a likin' for red heads, and blast
my hind-sights if I don't think they're more nor half right. Don't every body
fancy red birds and red feathers? Look at the old Governor, when he gets
on that velvet coat of hisen, all bespangled with gold lace. Look at the
ladies, God bless 'em—they're never dressed without some red garment or
other about 'em.”

“A pretty forcible defence of your head, Joe, but it would be equally forcible
in favor of red eyes.”

This was a poser to Joe, and he scratched the debatable ground unmercifully
for an answer, but nothing could be got out of it; seeing which,
Frank gently led him back to the point from which he had digressed, his
love for Wingina, or rather his passion.

“And so the interpreter's sister fell in love with your red hair first, did
she?”

“Yes, she axed me for a cut of it one day, and I was mighty proud of it,
till I saw it floatin' in that everlastin' cap of her brother's, along side of the
cock and eagle feathers.”

“What! did that queer faded tuft of bair grow upon your head? I
thought it had been some proud trophy of his prowess, perhaps the scalp of
an enemy.”

“By the long hollows, he's got as much of my sculp as he'll ever git; and
if he don't take care, I'll take my locks back, with interest—a piece of the
hide stickin' to it.”

“What, Joe, you would not scalp a man?”

“No, I would'nt sculp a man, but I would sculp an Ingin, howsomever.”

“And is not an Indian a man, with a soul and body like yourself?”

“No, no more nor that dog. That stuff, now, you got from old parson Blair.
We never heerd tell of the like in these parts 'till he got to preaching of it
about, and putting the varmints to school—he and the Governor. Now, look
what it's all come to—the Governor's got his son killed by the very man he
helped most of 'em all; and the interpreter would a' worn the parson's sculp
at his girdle, if he had cotched him in such a place as he cotched Squire John.”

“Ay, but Joe, you forget that John Spotswood is said to have deeply
wronged his sister.”

“Now, are you so green as to believe all them old wives' tales. What the
devil does an Ingin keer for such wrongs as these, even supposing, for the
sake of argument, it mout be so?”

“Chunoluskee has been taught to feel the shame by associating with us.
But what reason have you to doubt the common rumor on the subject?”

“The very best in the world; for I tried to sleeve her myself the very day
she begged that tuft of hair of me, and she looked like one of them tragedy
Queens that I saw on the stage down to Williamsburg.”

“And still you loved her, notwithstanding such a rebuff?”

“Why, you see, Squire, I thought it was only a grand way she had picked
up from the Governor's darters at second-hand, of sayin' that she was only to
be had for the marryin'.”

“And why did'nt you marry her, Joe, and thus have saved the Governor
and his family this deep affliction, and the poor girl what was to her more
than life?”

“Why, in the first place, I never axed her consent; in the second, you

know dad would a' disinherited me; and third and lastly, as Parson Blair
says, this story of Squire Spotswood tuck me so by surprise, that I had'nt
time. Now, you know the whole story. I rather reckon that I'll be at the
truth of the business afore I'm done.”

“So you have a settled purpose in going to the mountains of your own?”

“Yes, I've got a leetle speculation on my own hook. Don't you be surprised,
Squire, if you see me stay up among them mountains, and hear afterwards
of my bein' head chief among the Shawnese. I'm told they have a
plague of a fancy for red hair up in them diggins.”

“And so you calculate after all, upon making amends for the old man's
disinheritance of that wonderful legacy of his, your red hair?”

“I don't see, Squire, why I should'nt make my fortune by my head as well
as my betters. There's the two parsons, Dr. Blair and Parson Jones, they
lives by their wits; and there's the Governor, the heaviest tool he ever handles
is a sword; and there's Gen. Clayton and the other lawyers, they lives by
their wits; and there's Dr. Evylin, he lives by his wits; and there's all them long
gown fellers in the College, they lives by their wits; indeed, I don't see but the
most on you here in our mountain company, lives by their wits. But I guess
there'll be more nor head work afore they gets back. Well, as I was a sayin'—I
don't see why my head should'nt make my tortune, too. To be sure, mine lies on
the outside, and yours on the inside. It's all head work, any way you can fix it.”

“It is true enough, Joe, I believe that the Indians have a peculiar veneration
for a red head, but how are you going to take advantage of it? Suppose
these ruinous stories to the discredit of your mistress should prove true—and
I fear they are but too true—what will you do then? Will you still take her
for better for worse?”

“By George, I never knowed what that better for worse in the marriage
doins meant before; that's jist it, no doubt. As to what I will do in sich a
case, why I hav'nt exactly considered of it yit, seein' as how I did'nt believe it.
In sich a case she will be a sort of Ingin-in-law to the Governor, and a great
bite for the likes of me. Could you tell me now, by your head mathew matticks,
what kin I would be to the old Gineral?”

Frank turned away his head to indulge in a suppressed laugh ere he answered.
“I suppose you would be step-father to his natural grandchild.”

“Quite a natural thing, sure enough, but would there be any parquisites?”

“Oh, if you are in earnest, and really desire to bring about such a thing, I
have no doubt but the Governor would favor your suit and give you some of
the perquisites too, as you call them. It would be an arrangement to be desired,
and far more than the girl has a right to expect, or indeed deserves.
But tell me, how is it that you, professing such derogatory opinions of the
Indians, are still willing to take a wife among them?”

“Oh, Squire, as to my opinions about their skin, that's my rael belief—well,
my leanin' towards the gal, is rael too—now when a man's head pulls one
way, and his feelin's another, it will be mighty apt to pull the haslets[4] out of a
fellow; besides I'm a hunter by trade, and settlements have been crowding on
me for some time, and this here mountain scheme of the Governor's—though
the old codgers laugh at it—is going to make things a heap worse with me.”

“As how, Joe?”

“Why it will extend the settlements to the mountains. There's scarce an
elk or a buffalo to be found now this side of the hills, and he's a gwine to drive
them all clean over the ridge.”

“And so you are determined to emigrate with the game? Your head seems
to be as full of schemes of your own as the Governor's.”

“Yes, and I reckon that I have counted the costs a leetle better nor most of
'em he's got in his train, and mout be than he has himself. You'll see who's

the best man among us, when we get among the mountains, and when neither
money nor larnin' can do much for a man. Them's the times to try what
men's got in 'em.”

They were now several miles ahead of the army, and Joe knew the privations
of the forest well enough to call a halt at a fine spring, which threw its
sparkling waters across their path. He unslung the deer from his poney's
back, slipped the head stall over his neck, and turned him loose to graze
among the bushes—advising Frank to do the same with his, showing him, at
the same time, how to fix the halter, so as to impede his more impatient
temper.

These arrangements being completed, he carefully examined the priming
of his gun, and set it against a tree, within the reach of his hand, and then
took a wallet, which he had removed from behind his saddle, and spread a
cold collation before Frank; not a tempting one, it is true, to a dainty appetite,
but substantial and tempting enough, to one who had been on horseback
from early morning. Out of the same greasy looking receptacle, Joe next
drew a bottle, and after wiping the neck carefully upon the sleeve of his coat,
handed it to Frank. The latter declined the aquavila, but turned in manfully
upon the jerked beef and corn dodgers. Joe laughed in his sleeve at Frank's
refusing the bottle, and then took a long and hearty draught himself. Drawing
a long breath and smacking his lips, he said, “Every drop of this here liquor
mought be sold for all the gold lace in the Governor's troop, afore we're among
the mountains a week, and you, Squire, will not refuse it, when we come this
near home again.”

“Perhaps not—perhaps not, Joe, but sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.”

“Yes, you may well say that, Squire, for evils there will be enough on 'em
for every day after the provisions give out. Do you see that dog of mine
hopping so frisky over the bushes yonder?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I almost cried, as I looked at him comin' along the road this morning,
when he kept jumping upon me and licking my hand.”

“For what, I pray?”

“Why, to think that I should see the day when some of your young gentry
would eat a fine dinner off of his carcass.”

“Pooh! Joe, have done, you take away my appetite. You are only trying
to choke me off from your jerked beef, upon which I have been making such
inroads.”

“Not I! not a bit of it. I tell you, Squire Lee, as sure as you're a settin'
there, you'll see hard times afore we git back. That dainty Mr. Carter, that
I heer'd a talking about pheasants and woodcocks, will be glad enough to git
a mess of young kittins afore many weeks.”

“Why, Joe, I cannot eat a morsel more if you talk thus. I did not know
before, that you were such a croaker.”

“No more am I, but I can't help seeing how out of fix, for a mountain
jaunt, is all them ribbons, and ruffles, and gold lace, and silver and gold spurs,
and swords made for parade. And look at the cattle, too! Every one of
them horses is gwine to give out afore they reaches their journey's eend—
and yours among the rest.”

“Mine, Joe! why he's the best blood in the Colony.”

“Oh, as to that, my pony's got blood in him too. How could the critter
live without it? But I'm not talking of the blood, I'll show you what I'm
driving at”—and with that he gave a whistle, and his pony came trotting
through the bushes and ate a piece of corn bread from his hand. Joe then
caught him and held up one of his feet for Frank's inspection. “Do you see
them little iron shoes—well I put them on yisterday with my own hands—
that's what I call preparation for the mountains. Now, among all the horses
of the Governor's troops, there's not a shoe among them; they've been used

to the sand of this here tide water region. The Governor and you young
gents, seem to think that the mountains are made of sand too. I've seen
enough of the rough hills, far, far this side, to know better nor that. Now,
Squire, which is agoin' to be the best stand by, the blood in your horses'
veins, or the shoes on mine's feet?”

“I confess, Joe, there's reason in what you say—I never thought of that
part of the preparation before. I will speak to the Governor about it this very
night.”

“No, don't you! you'll spile sport if you do. Some of these mornings you
will see the funniest army of cripples you ever laid eyes on.”

“But it may be a fatal error, Joe, and it is my duty to speak out”

“Not a bit of it—not a bit of it. You can't mend the matter now, and I've
seen already to providin' the materials, when the time comes. I put the
Commissary up to providin' the materials to make shoes of—though he arn't
in all the plans. He don't know what it's for, and no doubt thinks for trado
with the Ingins.”

Thus assured, Frank acquiesced in Joe's scheme to keep quiet until the
emergency occurred. After conversing upon these matters for an hour or
two, Joe caught the horses and slung his buck over the pony, and then saddled
and readjusted the bridle of Frank's, ready for him to mount. The latter
asked him why he prepared to resume their journey before the troops came up.

“Case,” said Joe, “they're acomin' now, not more nor a mile off.”

Frank looked down the long vista of blazed trees as far as his eye could
penetrate, but he could not see even a bush shake, and seemed not a little surprised
at Joe's confident assertion.

Joe chuckled as usual, and then threw himself on the ground, and beckoned
to his companion to do likewise. Frank did so, and instantly perceived the
tramp of cavalry upon the ground.

“You see,” said Joe, “I'm agoin' to make a scout of you. You're a pickin'
up my craft smart, I swear. I heard that ere sound when I was lying on
the ground a quarter of an hour ago.”

The advanced guard having at length hove in sight, and the bugles now
being distinctly heard, our two adventurers resumed their journey, Joe blazing
the trees as he went, and initiating Frank into the mysteries of a scout's life,
his pony following quietly all the while, and bearing patiently his huge burden.
Occasionally Lee dismounted and walked by his side for a mile or two, which
not a little gratified Joe's pride.