And I emphatically declared he never had the ghost of a chance from the moment he fell into Black Hoof's hands.

Another ruse to keep her mind engaged was to trace out our course with a stick on a patch of bare earth. I showed how we should travel to the north fork of the Sandy and then strike to the head of Bluestone, and follow it nearly to the mouth before leaving it to cross New River; then a short journey to the Greenbriar and Howard's Creek.

Had I had any choice I should have preferred to take her over the mountains to Salem, but my time was not my own and it was imperative that I leave her at the first place of safety and be about Governor Dunmore's business. My decision to make Howard's Creek was strengthened by an adventure which befell us near the end of our first day on the Tug. We were casting about for a place to camp when we came upon five Indians, three squaws and two hunters.

Patricia was greatly frightened on beholding them, and it was some time before I could make her understand that they were friendly Delawares, accompanied by their women, and not painted nor equipped for war. After calming her I addressed them and learned they were from White Eye's village. They were afraid to go near the settlements.

Many "Long Knives," as they called the Virginia militia, were flocking to the Great Levels of the Greenbriar, and a forward movement of a whole army was shortly to be expected. As the presence of a large force of our riflemen so near Howard's Creek would insure the safety of that settlement I knew it to be the proper ending of our journey.

I induced Patricia to remain in camp with the Indians while I went out and shot a bear. The bear was very fat and I gave all the meat to the natives, for which they were grateful. One of them had a smoothbore, but no powder.

I could spare him none.

Patricia was now convinced the Indians would not harm us, but she would not consent to making camp near them. We walked several more miles before she was willing to stop and cook the kettle.

My tally-stick gave the thirteenth of September as the date of our arrival at Howard's Creek. The settlers informed me I had lost a day somewhere on the long journey and that it was the fourteenth. Nearly all the young and unmarried men were off to fight in Colonel Lewis' army, and many of the heads of families, including Davis and Moulton.

Those who were left behind gave us a royal welcome. Uncle d.i.c.k, the aged one, fell to sharpening his long knife with renewed vigor. Patricia and I had been counted as dead. Dale's death had been reported by young Cousin, and it caused no great amount of sorrow. The girl was never allowed to suspect this indifference. In reply to my eager inquiries I was told that Shelby Cousin was at the Great Levels, serving as a scout.

For once Howard's Creek felt safe. With nothing to worry about the men and women became garrulous as crows. The children played "Lewis' Army" from sunrise to sunset. The Widow McCabe swore she would put on a hunting-shirt and breeches and go to war. The pa.s.sing of men between the levels and the creek resulted in some news and many rumors. The meeting-place at the levels was called Camp Union. Colonel Lewis, pursuant to orders from Governor Dunmore, had commenced a.s.sembling the Augusta, Botetourt and Fincastle County troops at the levels on August twenty-seven. Cornstalk's spies had served him well!

His Lordship was to lead an army, raised from the northwest counties and from the vicinity of Fort Pitt, down the Ohio and unite with Colonel Lewis at the mouth of the Great Kanawha. Colonel Charles Lewis, with some Augusta and Botetourt troops, had left Camp Union on September sixth to drive the cattle and four hundred pack-animals to the mouth of the Elk, where he was to make canoes for transporting provisions to the Ohio.

The main army had marched from Camp Union on the twelfth, although Colonel Lewis had received a letter from Dunmore, urging that the rendezvous be changed to the mouth of the Little Kanawha. Colonel Lewis had replied it was impossible to alter his line of march.

From a fellow sent out to round up stray bullocks I learned the army would avoid the deep gorge and falls in the river by marching ten miles inland and parallel to the east bank, joining Colonel Charles Lewis at the Elk.

By another man I was told how the militia men were given to shooting away their precious ammunition, and how the colonel had warned that unless the practise ceased no more powder would be given out. That the Indians were active and not afraid of the troops was evidenced by an attack on Stewart's Fort, only four miles from Camp Union. And this, before the troops marched.

Colonel William Christian was in command of the rear-guard, and his men were much disgruntled at the thought of not being in the forefront of the fighting. What was most significant to me, although only an incident in the estimation of the men left at Howard's Creek, was the attack made by two Indians on two of Lewis' scouts, Clay and Coward by name.

The scouts had separated and one of the Indians fired on and killed Clay.

Thinking him to be alone, the Indians ran to get his scalp, and Coward at a distance of a hundred yards shot him dead. Coward then ran back toward the line of march and the surviving Indian fled down the Great Kanawha to inform the Shawnee towns that the Long Knives were coming.

I lost no time in securing a horse and a supply of powder and in hurrying to say good-by to Patricia. She was very sober when I told her I was off to overtake the army. Placing both hands on my shoulders, she said:

"Basdel, I know you've forgiven all the disagreeable things I've said to you. I will wait here until I hear from you. I will pray that you have an equal chance with the other brave men."

"I will come back and take you over the mountains."

"If you will only come back you may take me where you will, dear lad, even if it be deeper into the wilderness," she softly promised.

And Mrs. Davis bustled out of the cabin and energetically shooed the curious youngsters away.

And now I was riding away to battle, riding right joyously over the chestnut ridges and through the thick laurel, through stretches of pawpaw, beech and flowering poplar, with the pea-vine and buffalo gra.s.s soft underfoot. And my heart was as blithe as the mocking-bird's and there was no shadow of tomahawk or scalping-knife across my path.

I knew the destiny of the border was soon to be settled, that it hinged on the lean, leather-faced riflemen ahead, but there was nothing but sunshine and glory for me in that September day as I hastened to overtake the grim-faced man who believed His Lordship, John Murray, fourth Earl of Dunmore, Viscount Fincastle, Baron of Blair, Monlin and of Tillimet, was Virginia's last royal governor.

CHAPTER XII

THE SHADOWS VANISH

I followed the river, the cord of the bow, and made good time where the army would have had difficulty to get through. A dozen miles below the falls and near the mouth of Kelly's Creek, where Walter Kelly was killed by the Indians early in August, I came upon a scout named Nooney. We were on the west bank and the river was two hundred yards wide at that point.

Nooney begged some tobacco and pointed out a fording-place and gave me the "parole." This, very fittingly, was "Kanawha." He said I would speedily make the camp and that Colonel Lewis was with the first troops.

I lost no time in crossing and had barely cleared the river-bank before I was held up by an outpost. This fellow knew nothing of military red-tape.

He was plain militia, a good man in a fight, but inclined to resent discipline. He grinned affably as I broke through the woods and lowered his rifle.

"Gim'me some tobacker," he demanded good-naturedly.

"I suppose you'd want the parole," I replied, fishing out a twist of Virginia leaf.

"I got that. It's 'Kanawha.' What I want is tobacker. Don't hurry. Le's talk. I'm lonesome as one bug all alone in a buffler robe. See any footin'

over 'cross? I'm gittin' tired o' this outpost business. All foolishness.

We'll know when we strike th' red devils. No need o' havin' some one tell us. Your hoss looks sorter peaked. S'pose we'll have a mess of a fight soon? We boys come along to fight, not to stand like stockade-timbers out here all alone."

I told him I had important news for Colonel Lewis and must not tarry. He took it rather ill because I would not tell him my news, then tried to make me promise I would come back and impart it. I equivocated and led my horse on toward the camp, concealed from view of the river-bank by a ribbon of woods. The first man I met was Davis, and the honest fellow was so rejoiced to see me that he dropped his gun and took both my hands and stood there with his mouth working, but unable to say a word. Big tears streamed down his face.

I hurriedly related my adventures, and his joy was treble when he heard that Patricia was safe at Howard's Creek.

"Shelby Cousin shot and kilt Dale. He told us 'bout that. Ericus thought he knew it all. Wal, them that lives longest learns th' most," he philosophically observed. "Powerful glad to see you. We'll be seein' more of each other, I take it. How's my woman? Good. She's a right forward, capable woman, if I do say it. Moulton's out on a scout. Silent sort of a cuss these days from thinkin' 'bout his woman an' th' children. But a rare hand in a mess."

"And Cousin?"

"Say, Morris, that feller acts like he was reg'lar happy. Laughs a lot, only it don't sound nat'ral. He's a h.e.l.lion at scoutin'. Poor Baby Kirst!

I must 'low it's best for him to be wiped out, but it's too bad he couldn't 'a' made his last fight along with us. There's th' colonel in his shirt-sleeves smokin' his pipe."

I pa.s.sed on to where Lewis was sitting on a log. It was fearfully hot, as the high hills on each side of the river shut out the free air and made the camp an oven. On recognizing me, the colonel's eyes flickered with surprise, as the report of my capture had spread far. He rose and took my hand and quietly said:

"I knew they couldn't hold you unless they killed you on the spot. What about Miss Dale?"

I informed him of her safety and his face lighted wonderfully.

"That's good!" he softly exclaimed. "A beautiful young woman, the kind that Virginia is always proud of. Ericus Dale was lucky to die without being tortured. Now for your news; for you must be bringing some."

I told him of the mighty gathering at Chillicothe and of the influx of the fierce Ottawas. Lost Sister's warning to me to keep clear of the Great Kanawha impressed him deeply. It convinced him, I think, that the astute Cornstalk had planned to attack the army before it could cross the Ohio, and that the Shawnees on learning of the a.s.sembling at the levels knew the advance must be down the Kanawha. The Indian who escaped after Clay was killed was back on the Scioto by this time. After musing over it for a bit he insisted that it did not necessarily follow the attack would be in force.

"That was Cornstalk's first plan. But now he knows Governor Dunmore has an army at the mouth of the Little Kanawha. He may choose to attack him instead of me. I hope not, but there's a strong chance he'll do that while making a feint to fool me, and then float down the river and give me a real battle."

He kindly offered to attach me to one of the companies as sergeant, with the possibility of appointing me an ensign, but I preferred to act as scout and enjoy more independence of action.

"That's the trouble," he remarked. "All these fellows want to be scouts and range the woods free of discipline. They want to whip the Indians but they want to do it their own way. They persist in wasting ammunition, and it now looks as if we would go into battle with less than one-fourth of a pound of powder per man.

"If any man speaks up and says he is the best marksman in Virginia then every man within hearing challenges him to prove it. And they'll step one side and have a shooting-match, even if they know Cornstalk's army is within a couple of miles of us. They're used to bear- and deer-meat. They don't want to eat bullock-meat. I'll admit the beef is a bit tough. And every morning some of them break the rules by stealing out to kill game.

This not only wastes powder, but keeps the outposts alarmed."