The Pioneer Boys of the Mississippi; or, The Homestead in the WildernessRathborne, St. George
General
The Pioneer Boys of the Mississippi; or, The Homestead in the Wilderness
Rathborne, St. George
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; Mississippi River -- Juvenile fiction
"How do you think they knew we were there?" asked Mr. Harkness.
"Pat says a brave must have sighted the boat, and followed it until we
came to land," remarked Bob. "Then he hastened to his village, which
may be back here a few miles, and a war party was hurriedly made up.
Only for our discovering them as they passed along that ridge, the end
might not be so nice as it is."
It was determined that their best course would be to put boldly across
the river, and pass down the northern shore. This could be accomplished
by means of the big sweeps; and already several of the men were working
them.
An hour or two later they were in touch with the northern side of
the stream; and, as the moon began to show signs of setting, they
determined to anchor, as the recent scare had taken away all desire to
tie up to the shore.
There was no further trouble that night, and another morning found
them in high spirits. Pat's sprain still bothered him, more or less,
and would for some days to come; but Mrs. Armstrong had bound some of
her wonderful healing salve upon the swollen ankle, and the trapper
declared he was doing much better than he had even hoped would be the
case.
A day of peace followed. They drifted along not a great distance
from the shore, and yet keeping away from any dangerous points,
where enemies might be in hiding, bent on getting a shot at the white
voyagers.
Sandy did more or less fishing as they went, and had some success,
though he found it better to delay his best efforts until they were
tied up for the night. As for Bob, he noticed that there were still
flocks of wild fowl on the river at various points, and, longing to
bag a few, he awaited his time, when a shot was apt to count, and then
showed what a good marksman he was.
Altogether they were doing splendidly, and had little cause for
complaint when night closed in around them. They tied up this time, for
there had been no sign of Indians the livelong day, and, as Pat was
in no condition to scout around, one of the men volunteered to take
his place. When he came in later, he declared that, so far as he could
discover, there was not an enemy within ten miles of them.
That night passed without any alarm, for which all of them felt very
thankful, since they had lost considerable sleep the night before; and
it seemed like old times to be able to repose in comfort, only arousing
to take a turn at sentry duty, according to the routine arranged.
The next day was really a repetition of that peaceful one. Sandy
declared that he thought all the bad Indians must be on the Kentucky
side of the Ohio, and that, if they were wise, they would remain on the
northern shore from that time on; but Pat gave him to understand that
it was six of one and half a dozen of the other, since marauding bands
were constantly on the move, visiting between villages, or joining
forces for a raid against the settlements of the hated palefaces.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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