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
"They won't be troubled there to-night," continued Boone. "The Indians
will not be ready for a new attack, unless it's merely skirmishing, an'
Adam Colfax and Major Braithwaite will keep a good guard against them.
Now which way, Simon, do you think the camp of the Indians will be?"
Kenton pointed toward the northeast, a silent but significant gesture.
"There's a little prairie over there about two miles back from the
river," he said. "It's sheltered, but safe from ambush, an' it's just
the place that Timmendiquas would naturally choose."
"Then," said Boone, "that's the place we'll go to. Now, boys, we'll hide
our canoe here among the bushes, 'cause we're likely to need it again.
We may come back mighty fast, an' it might be the very thing that we
wanted most at that partickler time."
He laughed, and the others laughed, too. The canoe was well hidden among
the bushes, and then the five borderers disappeared in the forest.
CHAPTER XXII
THE SPEECH OF TIMMENDIQUAS
A score of Indian chiefs sat in the center of a little, almost circular,
prairie, about a half mile across. All these chiefs were men of
distinction in their wild forest way, tall, lean, deep-chested, and with
black eyes full of courage and pride. They wore deerskin dress,
supplemented with blankets of bright blue or red, but deerskin and
blankets alike were of finer quality than those worn by the warriors,
many hundreds in number, who surrounded the chiefs, but at a respectful
distance.
However commanding the chiefs were in presence, all yielded in this
particular to one, a young man of great height, magnificent figure, and
a singularly bold and open countenance. He was painted much less than
the others, and the natural nobility of his features showed.
Unconsciously the rest had gathered about him until he was the center of
the group, and the eyes of every man, Red Eagle, Yellow Panther, Captain
Pipe, and all, were upon him. It was the spontaneous tribute to valor
and worth.
Near the group of chiefs, but just a little apart, sat four white men
and one white boy, although the boy was as large as the men. They, too,
looked over the heads of the others at the young chief in the center,
and around both, grouped in a mighty curve, more than fifteen hundred
warriors waited, with eyes fixed on the same target to see what the
young chief might do or to hear what he might say.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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