The Riflemen of the Ohio: A Story of the Early Days along "The Beautiful River"Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
General
The Riflemen of the Ohio: A Story of the Early Days along "The Beautiful River"
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; Ohio River -- Juvenile fiction
The survey showed a tangled mass of forest and low hills, which seemed
to be monotonously alike in every direction. They could not see the Ohio
from their summit.
"I think it likely," said Henry, "that Paul has got lost. Maybe he has
been wandering about in a circle. I heard my Indians say that one lost
on the Great Plains often did that."
"Might be a good guess," said Shif'less Sol. "Let's go back to the plum
tree and try to take up his trail."
Paul's trail from the plum tree led in a northeasterly direction, and
they were sure now that he was lost, as the river lay to the south. But
the trail could not be followed more than twenty yards, and then they
held another council.
"Bein' lost," said Tom Ross, "it ain't likely that he's ever got more'n
two or three miles from here. Been spendin' his time goin' up an' down
an' back an' forth. Ef we'd fire a rifle he might hear it."
Henry shook his head.
"I wouldn't," he said. "We would be just as likely to draw the Indians
upon us, and we can find him, anyhow."
"Guess you're right," said Tom. "S'pose we spread out in a long line an'
go huntin' through the thickets, follerin' the general direction that
his little piece of trail showed."
The suggestion was approved, and in ten minutes a whistle from Tom Ross
drew them to a central point.
"Paul killed a wild turkey here," said Tom. "These woods seem to be full
uv 'em, an' he lighted a fire with his flint and steel. Had a hard time
doin' it, too. Knelt down here so long tryin' to knock out a blaze that
the prints uv his knees haven't gone away yet."
"But he did get it to goin' at last," said Shif'less Sol, "an' he cooked
his turkey an' et it, too. Here's the wishbone, all white an' shinin',
jest ez he throwed it down."
"And down here is the spring where he picked the turkey after he heated
it on the fire, and where he washed it," said Henry. "Paul was so hungry
he never thought about hiding the feathers, and a lot of 'em are left,
caught in the grass and bushes."
"I don't blame Paul," said Long Jim, his gastronomic soul afire. "Ef I
wuz hungry ez he must have been, I'd hev et it ef all the warriors uv
all the tribes on this continent wuz standin' lookin' on."
"Paul felt a pow'ful sight better after eatin'," said Shif'less Sol,
"an' he took the rest uv the turkey with him. Seems likely to me that
Paul would follow the brook, thinkin' it would flow into the Ohio."
"That's almost a certainty," said Henry.
They went with the stream, but it was one of those brooks common
throughout the West--it came out of the ground, and into the ground it
went again, not more than half a mile from the point at which they took
up its course. The stream disappeared under a natural stone arch in the
side of the hill.
"Paul was greatly disappointed," said Henry, "and of course he went to
the top of the hill to see if he could get a reckoning."
But the new hill merely revealed the same character of country.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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