That evening the boys turned their attention to making spears for fishing. They used some seasoned hickory which Ree had put in the loft during the winter for the making of bows, and were able to whittle stout, sharp p.r.o.ngs out of that hard, tough wood. It was too late when the task was completed, however, to try the spears that night, but the boys went to bed promising themselves good sport the next evening.

Although it was still the month of March, the early spring of that year enabled the young pioneers to begin at once active preparations for planting corn, potatoes, beans and squashes. The brush cut during the winter was so dry that it burned readily, and the green brush was easily disposed of also, when piled upon the hot fires the dry wood made. In this way the natural clearing was soon rid of the scattered undergrowth upon it.

In a week or two the boys were ready to put the seed into the ground, digging up a s.p.a.ce a foot square wherever they planted a hill of beans, corn, potatoes or squashes. It was slow work, nevertheless, and the st.u.r.dy, youthful farmers were obliged to toil early and late.

The coming of Indians frequently interrupted the boys at their work, and they came at last to continue their labor after greeting their visitors, unless the latter wished to trade. This the redmen liked none too well.

They seemed to think their Paleface neighbors were devoting too much time to agricultural pursuits, and they feared and hated any and all things which threatened to turn their forests into farm lands. But Ree and John agreed that, since they had bought the land of the Indians, they might as well give the former owners to understand, first and last, that they meant to do with it as they liked.

Big Buffalo was among a party which stopped at the cabin one day. He refused food and made himself generally disagreeable. The boys, however, ignored his ill humor and by paying no attention to him, showed that they neither cared for his hatred nor feared him, even though they knew there was murder in his heart.

Frequently strange Indians were among those who called and they asked the boys to visit their towns, some of which were not many miles away, to trade. As all of those Indians traversed the Portage trail or path, the boys were reminded almost daily of the desirability of securing land for a trading post, at the junction of the trail and the river. As they talked the matter over and looked into the future, more and more did they regret that the violent conduct of Big Buffalo had prevented their prolonging their bargaining with Capt. Pipe on the occasion of their last visit to him.

About this time, also, another reason arose for the two friends wishing to visit Capt. Pipe again. It was the discovery that he had secured some horses. During the winter he had had none of which the boys knew. Now, they reasoned, if they could buy a horse, they would rig up their cart and carry their furs to Pittsburg. It would be a much shorter and safer trip than to undertake to reach Detroit, and they would require no a.s.sistance. There was some probability, too, that among their friends in Pittsburg they might get some word concerning Tom Fish.

It was one night when they had returned from fishing, bringing in a great string of rock ba.s.s, that the lads talked this over, and at last concluded to go again to the Delaware town, even at the risk of having more trouble with Big Buffalo.

It seemed like a holiday after their hard work when, next day, the boys found themselves in their canoe, gliding over the river's rippling waters on their way to Capt. Pipe's home. They carried the craft overland to the lake and soon approached the Indian village.

But suddenly as they drew near, the noise of many voices was borne to them by the breeze. First loud, then low, the sounds came across the water. Ree's face grew grave, and John, who had been whistling, abruptly paused.

"Ree," he exclaimed, "that is the song of the war dance!"

"It means that the Indians are going on the warpath, as surely as we hear it," was the answer. "Be on your guard, John. We will soon find out just what it means; for we won't turn back now, even if we see the whole tribe in war paint."

CHAPTER XVII.

Danger.

As Ree spoke, a war whoop sounded clear and strong, instantly followed by a weird, chanting song. In a minute or two this ceased, and then with fiercer war whoops than before, broke out afresh. Quickly the young pioneers floated nearer the scene of these warlike outbursts, and soon ran the nose of their canoe upon the gravelly beach. With fast-beating hearts they climbed the little bank which rose gradually a few feet back from the sh.o.r.e.

The boys had approached so quietly, and the Indians were so intent on the war dance that their coming had not been discovered. And well might the lads pause in uncertainty as to the manner of the reception they would receive; for now they came into full view of the a.s.sembled savages--half-naked warriors in paint and fighting costume, forming a circle and dancing and yelling like the wild barbarians they were, while old men and young braves and squaws and children looked on in savage rapture. Before either boy could speak Big Buffalo espied them and leaped forward brandishing a tomahawk.

Instinctively Ree seized his rifle in both hands, ready for instant action. John did the same, and with an ugly leer the Indian paused. His action had attracted attention, however, and at this critical juncture Capt. Pipe discovered the presence of the visitors, and called angrily to Buffalo to put up his weapon.

The chief was in full war costume himself, making anything but a peaceable appearance as he met the boys half way, when they obeyed his signal to approach. But without a word he conducted them to a place in the circle of spectators gathered around the forty or fifty warriors, and at once the dance went on as though there had been no interruption.

With terrible gestures of their arms and throwing their bodies into all sorts of warlike att.i.tudes, the Indians danced about in a circle, striking their feet down with great force as they kept time to the beating of two rude drums and the uncanny song they sang. With a war whoop a dance was begun and continued for about two minutes, the outlandish music making the forest ring. Then the singing and dancing stopped and the Indians walked more slowly around the circle.

In a minute or so another war-cry would sound and the fierce, weird music and dance would be resumed. Then some old Indian among the spectators would clap his hands, signifying that he wished to speak. The dance would cease and the dancers walk slowly 'round again, while a speech was made.

The address would occupy only a half minute or a minute perhaps, and then with another of the horrifying war cries the dancing and singing were started afresh.

Ree and John might have been a thousand miles away for all the attention that was given them at first.

"Perhaps it is merely a festival dance," John whispered to his chum.

"No, it would be given in the evening if that were true," was the answer.

"It means the warpath, I am sure."

John was replying that, whether merely for entertainment or for war, the dance was enough to scarce a civilized person into a trance, when Capt.

Pipe suddenly clapped his hands and, as the music ceased, stepped forward and spoke. All the other speeches had been made in the Delaware tongue, but the first man of the tribe now spoke partly in English. This was for the purpose of giving them to understand just what was going on, the boys were quite certain, and frequently the chief pointed toward them.

In substance Capt. Pipe said that the whites were encroaching too far upon the lands of the Indians and preparations were being made for a great union of tribes to drive the "Long Knives" back. He promised to lead a large party of his people to join with other Delawares and the Wyandots, Shawnees and Miamies in a war which, he boastfully said, would secure to the Indians again the forests in which the Palefaces had already settled. He referred to the defeat of the whites eight years before and the burning of Col. Crawford, and said there would be scalps and plunder for every warrior who accompanied him.

John found himself wondering whether the Indians might not undertake to whet their appet.i.tes for blood by killing himself and Ree. It was of the terrible torture of Col. Crawford which Ree was thinking, and he found it hard to keep from hating the savages before him, horrible and cruel in their war paint.

And could he have looked but a few months into the future and have seen the awful carnage in which Capt. Pipe and his braves had a prominent part, at the defeat of General St. Clair near Fort Jefferson, in what is now Mercer County, Ohio, he could not have restrained his hatred as he did. He knew in after years what that battle was, and knew that the Indians boasted that their arms ached from their work with the scalping knife.

The frightful dance went on when Capt. Pipe had finished speaking, his words inspiring the warriors with new vigor who now whirled around the circle with great rapidity, going through all the motions of attacking, vanquishing and scalping an enemy. At a call from the chief, other warriors, who were standing by, sprang into the ring, joining in the singing and contortions of faces and bodies with furious energy. More and more followed as from among the dancers Capt. Pipe called from time to time, urging all who wished to win renown as warriors, and to hang scalps of the hated whites at their belts, to join him.

Each addition to the whirling, shrieking, blood-thirsty band was greeted with thunderous whoops and in the end nearly one hundred and fifty braves were going through all the barbarous awe-inspiring motions of the horrid celebration.

Well might Ree and John feel alarm for their own safety; but they looked upon the terrifying scene quite calmly, notwithstanding that, as their pa.s.sions were kindled and their savage patriotism aroused by the fervor of the dance, the Indians gave them many a glance which was far from friendly.

There were two things which Ree could not help but notice as the revel continued; one was that Big Buffalo had not joined the dancers, the other that Gentle Maiden kept her eyes downcast or looked away across the lake, not once turning toward her father's painted braves. He could not help thinking it strange that the Buffalo had not signified his intention of joining the warriors, and sincerely wished the unfriendly fellow had done so. There was no other Indian whom he had so much reason to dislike, nor one whose absence was so greatly to be desired.

For more than two hours the dance went on, interrupted only when some one--usually an old Indian whose fighting days were past--clapped his hands as a signal that he wished to make a speech. But at last Capt. Pipe called a halt and stepped out from among the dancers. With a fierce look toward Big Buffalo he demanded to know of him why he would not join the war party.

Ree and John could not understand all that was said, but they saw plainly that the chief was angry. In substance the reason of Big Buffalo was that it would not do for all the strong men to leave the village; that some one must remain to provide meat for the women and children, and to protect the town.

Capt. Pipe heard these excuses with a scowl black as a thunder cloud. His giant frame stretched itself to its greatest height and his voice was filled with contempt as he flung forth but one word:

"Squaw!"

Perhaps the chief thought, as Ree was at that moment thinking, that the Buffalo's main reason for wishing to remain at home, was that he might be near Gentle Maiden. But had the truth been made known, it would have been shown that the treacherous rascal had other and more wicked reasons in his heart, as the young settlers were destined soon to learn.

With a wave of his arm Capt. Pipe dispersed his followers as Big Buffalo made no reply to his contemptuous outburst. The Indians threw themselves on the ground to rest, or went away to their lodges to more fully prepare for the warpath, and the chief, turning to Ree and John, motioned to them to follow. He led the boys to his cabin and his wife placed food before them. When they had eaten, Capt. Pipe produced pipes and all three smoked. It was a silent compact of peace, and pleased indeed were the Paleface lads that the Indian showed this disposition.

Though it was not this act of friendship which made him bold, for he would have spoken in the same way under other circ.u.mstances, Ree quietly asked Capt. Pipe why he had determined to go on the warpath.

The chief made no answer.

"It is wrong," Ree continued gravely. "You are living here in happiness and security. No Palefaces have molested you. Your people are contented; they have but to step into the forests for an abundance of game; but to approach the waters for all the fish they may desire. The ground yields rich returns from the labor of the planting season. The Delawares are well fed and well clothed. Why, then, should they give up the hunt and the pleasures of their present pursuits to take up the hatchet? Why should they seek the lives of others, whether white men or redmen? They will only bring sorrow and weeping to their own villages, and sorrow and weeping in many a Paleface home for those who never return. More than this, Chief Hopocon, the Great Spirit looks with unhappy eyes upon his children who go on the warpath not in defense of their own, but to kill and murder those who have not harmed them."

Knowing Ree even well as he did, John was surprised to hear him speak thus fluently and strongly, but he greatly feared his friend had been unwise in speaking so boldly.

For a few seconds Capt. Pipe did not answer. And then he said:

"The young brother speaks well, but he does not know. His heart is right, but he does not know. With the young men who have come among us as traders and hunters we have no quarrel. They will remain here. They will send no word of the war dance to the forts. Other Palefaces are crowding further and further. Faster and faster, they are driving the people of the forest before them. The young brother does not know this. The young brother does not know of the word which every day the runners bring, which tells of the crowding of the Long Knives more and more upon the forest. Now must they be warned to come no further. Now must they be driven back to the eastward. Else the setting sun will be the home of the Delawares. Too long--too long, have the hands of Hopocon and his warriors been idle; too long--too long, have the Delawares borne in silence."

Capt. Pipe spoke with emphasis but not violently. As he concluded he rose slowly to his feet. Ree and John followed his example, and with meaning in his gesture far greater than words could have expressed, the chieftain motioned to them to depart.

With shoulders thrown back, head erect as proud and dignified as the Indians whom he felt had thus insulted him Ree turned to leave the cabin.

But John had no such feeling, nor was he so quick to see that Capt. Pipe was offended by the words of one whom he probably considered a mere boy.

He saw only that the object of their visit was not likely to be accomplished and turning to the Indian said: "Capt. Pipe, we wanted to buy a little more land, and we need a horse."