LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

look for him. He was not there.

      “Have you seen Arens Ringgold?” I inquired of old Hickman.

      “Yes—jest gone,” was the reply.

      “In what direction?”

      “Up-river. See ’im gallop off wi’ Bill Williams an’ Ned Spence—desprit keen upon somethin’ they ’peered.”

      A painful suspicion flashed across my mind.

      “Hickman,” I asked, “will you lend me your horse for an hour?”

      “My old critter? Sartin sure will I: a day, if you wants him. But, Geordy, boy, you can’t ride wi’ your arm that way?”

      “O yes; only help me into the saddle.”

      The old hunter did as desired; and after exchanging another word or two, I rode off in the up-river direction.

      Up the river was a ferry; and at its landing it was most likely the young Indian had left his canoe. In that direction, therefore, he should go to get back to his home, and in that direction Ringgold should not go to return to his, for the path to the Ringgold plantation led in a course altogether opposite. Hence the suspicion that occurred to me on hearing that the latter had gone up the river. At such a time it did not look well, and in such company, still worse; for I recognised in the names that Hickman had mentioned, two of the most worthless boys in the settlement. I knew them to be associates, or rather creatures, of Ringgold.

      My suspicion was that they had gone after the Indian, and of course with an ill intent. It was hardly a conjecture; I was almost sure of it; and as I advanced along the river road, I became confirmed in the belief. I saw the tracks of their horses along the path that led to the ferry, and now and again I could make out the print of the Indian moccasin where it left its wet mark in the dust. I knew that his dress had not yet dried upon him, and the moccasins would still be saturated with water.

      I put the old horse to his speed. As I approached the landing, I could see no one, for there were trees all around it; but the conflict of angry voices proved that I had conjectured aright.

      I did not stop to listen; but urging my horse afresh, I rode on. At a bend of the road, I saw three horses tied to the trees. I knew they were those of Ringgold and his companions, but I could not tell why they had left them.

      I stayed not to speculate, but galloped forward upon the ground. Just as I had anticipated, the three were there—the half-blood was in their hands!

      They had crept upon him unawares—that was why their horses had been left behind—and caught him just as he was about stepping into his canoe. He was unarmed—for the rifle I had given him was still wet, and the mulatto had made away with his knife—he could offer no resistance, and was therefore secured at once.

      They had been quick about it, for they had already stripped off his hunting-shirt, and tied him to a tree. They were just about to vent their spite on him—by flogging him on the bare back with cowhides which they carried in their hands. No doubt they would have laid them on heavily, had I not arrived in time.

      “Shame, Arens Ringgold! shame!” I cried as I rode up. “This is cowardly, and I shall report it to the whole settlement.”

      Ringgold stammered out some excuse, but was evidently staggered at my sudden appearance.

      “The darned Injun desarves it,” growled Williams.

      “For what, Master Williams?” I inquired.

      “For waggin his jaw so imperent to white men.”

      “He’s got no business over here,” chimed in Spence; “he has got no right to come this side of the river.”

      “And you have no right to flog him, whether on this side or the other—no more than you have to flog me.”

      “Ho, ho! That might be done, too,” said Spence, in a sneering tone, that set my blood in a boil.

      “Not so easily,” I cried, leaping from the old horse, and running forward upon the ground.

      My right arm was still sound. Apprehensive of an awkward affair, I had borrowed old Hickman’s pistol, and I held it in my hand.

      “Now, gentlemen,” said I, taking my stand beside the captive, “go on with the flogging; but take my word for it, I shall send a bullet through the first who strikes!”

      Though they were but boys, all three were armed with knife and pistol, as was the custom of the time. Of the three, Spence seemed most inclined to carry out his threat; but he and Williams saw that Ringgold, their leader, had already backed out, for the latter had something to lose, which his companions had not. Besides, he had other thoughts, as well as fears for his personal safety.

      The result was, that all three, after remonstrating with me for my uncalled-for interference in a quarrel that did not concern me, made an angry and somewhat awkward exit from the scene.

      The young Indian was soon released from his unpleasant situation. He uttered few words, but his looks amply expressed his gratitude. As he pressed my hand at parting, he said:

      “Come to the other side to hunt whenever you please—no Indian will harm you—in the land of the red men you will be welcome.”

Chapter Fifteen.

       Table of Contents

      Maümee.

      An acquaintance thus acquired could not be lightly dropped. Should it end otherwise than in friendship? This half-blood was a noble youth, the germ of a gentleman. I resolved to accept his invitation, and visit him in his forest home.

      His mother’s cabin, he said, was on the other side of the lake, not far off. I should find it on the bank of a little stream that emptied into the main river, above where the latter expands itself.

      I felt a secret gratification as I listened to these directions. I knew the stream of which he was speaking; lately, I had sailed up it in my skiff. It was upon its banks I had seen that fair vision—the wood-nymph whose beauty haunted my imagination. Was it Maümee?

      I longed to be satisfied. I waited only for the healing of my wound—till my arm should be strong enough for the oar. I chafed at the delay; but time passed, and I was well.

      I chose a beautiful morning for the promised visit, and was prepared to start forth. I had no companion—only my dogs and gun.

      I had reached my skiff, and was about stepping in, when a voice accosted me; on turning, I beheld my sister.

      Poor little Virgine! she had lost somewhat of her habitual gaiety, and appeared much changed of late. She was not yet over the terrible fright—its consequences were apparent in her more thoughtful demeanour.

      “Whither goest thou, Georgy?” she inquired as she came near.

      “Must I tell, Virgine?”

      “Either that or take me with you.”

      “What! to the woods?”

      “And why not? I long for a ramble in the woods. Wicked brother! you never indulge me.”

      “Why, sister, you never asked me before.”

      “Even so, you might know that I desired it. Who would not wish to go wandering in the woods? Oh! I wish I were a wild bird, or a butterfly, or some other creature with wings; I should wander all over those beautiful woods, without asking you to guide me, selfish brother.”

      “Any other day, Virgine, but to-day—”

      “Why, but? Why not this very day? Surely it is fine—it is lovely!”

      “The truth,

Скачать книгу