Frontier and pioneer life -- United States -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Lord Dunmore's War, 1774 -- Fiction
"The Indian knew it was there and knew we were coming, and used it for
bait," I mused.
"A five-year-old child would know that," was the scornful rejoinder. "But
what no five-year-old on Howard's Creek would 'a' done was to go for to
git it after I'd called a halt. You must 'a' been foolish in your mind.
The Injun took a spot where he could line his gun on the moccasin. The
growth cut off any sight of the trace 'cept where the moccasin lay. All he
had to do was to line it and shoot when you stooped over it. The second he
couldn't see the moccasin he'd know some one's body was between it and
him. He heard me bawl out, but he didn't git sight of you till you was
over it, and by that time my old hoss give you a belt and made you keep on
moving."
"He undershot, yet as I was bending close to it he would have bagged me,"
I said. "I have to thank you for saving my life."
"Part of a day's work," he carelessly observed. "Wal, seeing as the skunk
has skedaddled, we might as well push on rather smart and tell the fellers
there's a loose red round these parts."
When we entered the settlement we saw men and women gathered in front of
the Davis cabin, frankly curious to see the newcomers and eager to volley
them with questions. I joined the group and through a window beheld Patsy
in animated conversation with what women could crowd inside. Mrs. Davis
was very proud of her cousin's daughter and was preening herself
considerably.
Patsy's cheeks were flushed and her tongue was racing as only a woman's
can. As she talked I could see she was trying to get used to the table of
split slabs and its four round legs set in auger-holes, the pewter
tableware and the spoons and bowls fashioned from wood, and the gourds and
hard-shell squash hollowed out for noggings.
With a slant of half-veiled eyes she also was studying the women's linsey
petticoats and bare feet, for now that it was warm weather many dispensed
with any foot-covering. In turn the women were openly examining the
texture and style of her town gown, and shrilly calling on one another to
come and admire her soft leather boots.
I did not see Dale, and Davis informed me he was inspecting the fort. As
Ward was not in sight I assumed he, too, was at the fort. Making my way to
the window, I caught Patsy's eye and handed her her lost moccasin.
She stared at the moccasin in bewilderment, but what with the newness of
her experience and the voluble praise of the women and the open-eyed
admiration of the men, she was finely excited. She forgot to ask where I
found the moccasin or how I happened to be there. She was in the act of
giving me a smile and a nod when Mrs. Davis tugged her to the
right-about.
Realizing it was useless to strive for the girl's attention until the
neighbors returned to their cabins, I walked to the fort, leading my
horse. Hughes was there ahead of me and stood with a group of sullen-faced
men who were being addressed by Ericus Dale.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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