CHAPTER XI.
TRAMPING SOUTHWARD.
An ejaculation of thankfulness escaped Fred Linden when he found himselffloating in the comparatively still water below the rapids, and he knewthat although he was pretty well bruised, none of his bones was broken.He let go of the limb of the tree that had served him so well, andflirting the water from his eyes, struck out with his old time vigor forthe shore, toward which he had started in the canoe.
When Terry Clark saw his friend go spinning into the whirlpool, hescrambled back from the trunk of the tree, on which he had found refuge,and ran at full speed down the bank. Fast as he went, he was just intime to see Fred swimming through the foaming waters toward the land.
"Give me yer hand!" called out the delighted youngster; "there isn'tany body in the wide wurruld that could bate that onless it is mesilf,and I couldn't do it."
"Whew!" exclaimed Fred, as he laboriously clambered up the steep bank;"that was the biggest lot of swimming and diving crowded into the spaceof a minute or two that I ever knew; I wouldn't like to take such a tripeach day."
"And I'm thinkin' that it'll be a few days after this whin we try itagin," added Terry, delighted to see his loved comrade before himunharmed; "I jist give up when I seen you plunge in among the rocks, andwas wonderin' how your father and mother and sister Edith would faalwhen I should be luggin' your dead body home."
"I'm thankful that you haven't _that_ to do," said Fred with anearnestness that could not be mistaken; "but come, the clothes of usboth are dripping, and we can't get away any too soon."
It was not far to walk, and a few minutes later they reached the otherside of the clearing, where the cluster of cabins stood. The firstliving object on which their eyes rested was Brindle, lying on theground and chewing her cud with an air of contentment which belongsexclusively to her kind, or rather kine.
The boys laughed and Terry said:
"If she had such a thing as conscience she wouldn't be takin' things inthat aisy style, after givin' us a duckin' that come nigh bein' our lastone."
"You are right, Terry, but what did you do with that bell that Deerfoottook away from the Winnebago?"
"I lift it wid my gun on the other side of the creek; I didn't want ittollin' our funeral knell all the time we was goin' through the rapidsand splittin' the rocks to pieces by bangin' our heads agin them."
"It is just as well, for the creek will be so low that there will be nodanger in crossing it to-morrow, and you can get the bell again; well,here we are at home."
The boys separated, and at the same moment, each entered the cabin wherehe lived. They were only a short distance apart. Several men and anumber of the lads, some older and some younger than the two in whom weare interested, were moving about, and looked curiously at the drippingfigures. A couple asked an explanation of Fred, but he laughinglyanswered that he would tell them after he had got dry, and immediatelydisappeared in his own house.
Mrs. Linden and Edith, her daughter, who was two years younger thanFred, looked up in surprise when they saw the state of the lad.
"Terry and I started to paddle across the creek, that is higher thanusual, and were overturned by a tree that stove in the side of the boatand gave us a ducking."
Having heard this explanation his folks seemed to feel no more curiosityabout it. The lad passed into his room, he being one of those fortunateones who had two complete suits of clothing, with the exception of capand shoes. It took him but a short time to effect the change, when hereappeared, placing his foot and head gear near the fire, where theywould soon dry.
The home of Fred Linden may be taken as a type of the best that werefound on the frontier. As a matter of course, it was made of logs, witha stone chimney so huge that it projected like an irregular bay windowfrom the rear. The fire-place took up the greater part of one side ofthe house, where the immense blocks of oak and hickory not only diffuseda cheery warmth through the lower portion, but sent fully one-half theheat up the enormous throat of the chimney.
The large room, which served for parlor, sitting and dining room, wasfurnished simply, but comfortably, with plain chairs, a bench,spinning-wheel, a rocking-chair, table, a few cheap pictures and theindispensable cooking utensils. There was no stove, every thing beingprepared in the fire-place. At that day, as you well know, no one hadever dreamed of using coal as an article of fuel, and the old-fashionedstoves were exceedingly few in number. Carpets, of course, were notthought of, though the rough floor was kept clean enough to serve as atable for food.
A rifle rested on two deer prongs over the mantel-piece, and thereseemed to be any number of knick-knacks about the room, though it wouldhave been found that nearly every one had a distinct use in thehousehold.
Two rooms were connected on the same floor with the larger apartment.One of these served as the sleeping quarters for the parents when Mr.Linden was at home, and the other for Edith, while Fred occupied theloft, which had the rafters for a ceiling, and extended over half thelower floor. During the absence of the father, Edith and her mother usedone room, while Fred had the other.
Noon had passed when the son came home, and his substantial dinner ofvenison--procured some days before by Fred himself--brown bread,potatoes, butter and milk, were awaiting him. Taking his place at thetable, he ate as only a rugged, growing boy of sixteen can eat.
He made no further mention of the dangerous adventure that had justbefallen him, but gave the full particulars of Terry Clark's encounterwith the Winnebago Indian, who stole the bell from the cow, and tried tohave a little sport at the expense of the boy. It was an interestingstory, and mother and daughter listened with rapt attention. Edith, whowas a bright girl, and very fond of her brother, asked many questionsas to how the Winnebago looked, what he said, and whether he reallymeant to kill poor Terry. Then her interest suddenly transferred itselfto Deerfoot, and she plied Fred with all sorts of queries, until helaughingly told her that she was asking them two and three times over,and really he had nothing more to tell.
Then Fred drew out the moist and soiled bit of paper that he had takenfrom his other clothes, and which contained the message of his father.This, of course, caused a sensation, for it made known the fact that theson was to join his parent for several months. It would be supposed thatthis would cause some inconvenience, but in such a primitive communityall were neighbors, and the chores and work that would have been done byFred Linden would be cheerfully attended to by others. It was not untilmany years afterward, when the settlements became towns, that the socialdistinctions between families were formed.
During all the conversation, after it had been agreed that Fred shouldstart alone on a hundred mile journey through the wild forest, nothingwas said about such a thing as the personal danger attending it. Andthat, too, directly on the heels of the Winnebago's attempt on TerryClark. The habit of self-reliance was taught to the children of thepioneers at such an early age, that their parents felt no solicitude,where in these times they would have been tortured by anxiety, and, nodoubt, with abundant reason.
Mrs. Bowlby was told of the mishap that had befallen her absent lord,when she was asked by Edith to come over in the evening, but she wasassured that there was no cause for alarm, and so she felt none. Shewrote a letter to her husband, as did the wife of Hardin, and Fred's ownmother. These constituted all the extra luggage that he was to take, forit would have been oppressive to load him with any thing in the natureof a burden when the hunters had been absent only a few days.
The decision was that Fred should make his start at early dawn the nextday. It was his purpose to reach camp on the fourth day; that would beonly an ordinary tramp for a rugged youngster like him, and he wasconfident that he would have no trouble in keeping to the trail that hadbeen ridden over so recently by his friends.
The little personal articles, as they may be called, which the lad wouldrequire, were mostly the same as those of his father, and could beutilized by the son. Such, as from the nature of things, could notanswer for both were tied
into a compact package with his linen andstrapped over his shoulders with a thick blanket. His powder horn andbullet pouch were not forgotten. An extra flint for his rifle was placedin his pocket, and the weapon, which belonged to the lad himself, wasslung over his shoulder after the manner of a professional hunter. Thenmaking sure that nothing had been left behind, Fred gave his sister andmother a warm hug and kiss apiece, called to them a jaunty good-by, andset his face toward the Ozark mountains.
It had become known that he was to start on quite a lengthy journey, andthose who were astir at that early hour called their hearty good wishesto the lad, who was popular with all. Fred looked for Terry, and seeingnothing of him, shouted his name as he passed by his door, but receivingno response, concluded that he was still asleep.
The heart of the boy was light as he strode at a rapid pace across theclearing. He felt no inconvenience from the bruises received the daybefore, during the passage of the rapids, and his natural buoyancycaused him to look upon the tramp through the woods as a school boyviews his long expected vacation. There was no fear of any peril in thestretch of unbroken forest that opened before him. It was fortunateindeed for his peace of mind that he did not know what was awaiting himin the dark arches and labyrinths of the almost interminablewilderness.