The Riflemen of the Ohio: A Story of the Early Days along "The Beautiful River"Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
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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
Henry was so exultant that he laughed aloud. A few minutes before he had
been swimming for his life. Now he was in a canoe, and nothing but the
most untoward accident could keep him from reaching the Kentucky shore.
One or two shots were fired at long range from the pursuing canoes, but
the bullets did not come anywhere near him, and he replied with an
ironic shout.
The Wyandot's bullet pouch and powder horn, torn from him in the
struggle, were lying in the boat. Henry promptly seized them, and
reloaded the Wyandot's rifle. Just as he finished the task his canoe
struck against the shore, and, as he leaped out, he gave it a push with
his foot that sent it into the current. Then carrying the Indian's rifle
in addition to his own, strapped on his back, he darted into the woods.
Once more Henry Ware trod the soil of Kain-tuck-ee, and for an instant
or two he did not think of his wounded or exhausted companions behind.
Nature had been so kind to him in giving him great physical power, which
formed the basis of a sanguine character, that he always and quickly
forgot hardships and dangers passed and was ready to meet a new
emergency. The muddy Ohio was flowing from him in plentiful rills, but
one rifle was loaded, and he had of dry ammunition enough to serve.
Moreover, his trifling wound was forgotten. His mind responded to his
triumph, and, laughing a little, he shook his captured rifle gleefully.
He stopped three or four hundred yards from the river in a dense clump
of oak and elm and listened. He could hear no sound that betokened the
approach of the Indians, nor did he consider further pursuit likely.
They would be too busy with their intended attack on Fort Prescott to be
searching the woods in the night for a lone fugitive, who, moreover, had
shown a great capacity for escaping.
The night was dark and a cool wind was blowing. A less hardy body would
have been chilled by the immersion in the Ohio, but Henry did not feel
it. He was now studying the country, half by observation and half by
instinct. It was hilly, as was natural along the course of the river,
but the hills seemed to increase in height toward the north and east,
that is, up the stream. It was reasonable to infer that Fort Prescott
lay in that direction, as its builders would choose a high point for a
site.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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