On the Kentucky Frontier: A Story of the Fighting Pioneers of the WestOtis, James
History
On the Kentucky Frontier: A Story of the Fighting Pioneers of the West
Otis, James
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
Never for a moment did I lose sight of the fact that it was necessary I
have my wits about me in case I counted on keeping my hair, for many a
scalp had been taken in that vicinity within the six months just passed,
and I believed that nothing larger than a squirrel could come within
striking distance, save by my own knowledge and consent.
Therefore it was I sprang up very suddenly in the greatest alarm when a
white man stood before me, having approached so silently that it was
almost as if he had come up through the very earth.
It is not to be supposed that Indians were the only beings in form of
men we settlers on the Ohio had reason to fear in those days; there were
many white men whose hearts were as black as those of the savages, and
who would draw bead on one of their kind from sheer love of spilling
blood, if no other reason presented itself.
As I have set down here, I sprang to my feet, rifle in hand, ready for
the first threatening movement on the part of the stranger; but he gave
little token of being an enemy.
His weapon was thrown across the hollow of his arm as he stood looking
at me in a friendly manner, and I might easily have shot him down,
unless he was quicker with a rifle than any other I had ever met.
A young fellow was this newcomer, hardly more than one and twenty, as it
then seemed to me, and there was that in his face which gave token that
he might be a close friend or a dangerous enemy, whichsoever way he was
approached.
"Out for fur?" he said rather than asked, glancing down at the traps
which lay near at hand.
I nodded; but remained on my guard, determined not to be taken at a
disadvantage by soft words.
"It is better to keep movin', than lay 'round where a sneakin' Injun
might creep up a bit too near," he said with a smile, as he seated
himself near the decaying tree-trunk on which I had left the traps.
"I would have sworn neither white nor red could have come upon me in the
fashion you did," I said hotly, and thoroughly ashamed of myself for
having been so careless.
"I reckon it might have puzzled an Injun to do the trick. If I couldn't
beat them at movin' 'round, my head would have been bare these five
years."
It sounded much like boasting, his claiming to be able to beat an Indian
at woodcraft, for at that time I believed the savages could outwit any
settler who ever lived; but before many weeks had passed I came to
understand that I had been sadly mistaken.
"Is that your cabin yonder under the big knoll?" he asked, more as if by
way of beginning a conversation than from curiosity.
"Yes; have you been there?"
"I looked it over; but didn't try to scrape acquaintance. Does your
mother live there?"
"Yes; she and I alone."
"What sent her down into this wilderness with no one but a lad like
yourself?" he asked, speaking as if he was twice my age, when, unless
all signs failed, he was no more than five years my elder.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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