OCR Text |
Show Erskine Dale Pioneer scalp, were fixed steadily and began to widen. "Who Is that boy 7" be asked sharply. "Never mind now," said old Joel soothingly, . "you must keep still!" The boy's eyes had begun to shift under un-der the scrutiny and lie started away. "Come hack here I" commanded t lie wounded man, and still searching the lad he said sharply again: "Who Is that boy?" Nor would he have his wound dressed or even take the cup of water handed to him until old Joel briefly told the story, when he lay back on the ground and closed his eyes. Darknesjs fejl. In each tower a By John Fox, Jr. Copyright by Char! eg Scribner'l Sons "THAT'S MY SON." SYXOPSIB. To the Kentucky wilderness cut post commanded by Jerome Sanders. In the time Immediately Immedi-ately preceding the Revolution, comes a white boy fleeing from a 1 tribe of Shawnees by whom he had been captured and adopted as a son of the chief, Kahtoo. He Is given shelter and attracts the favorable attention of Dave Yandell, a leader among the settlers. The youngster is naked a breech-clouted savage. He speaks only bastard French and Shawnee. But he shows a patch of white skin and proudly taps his breast. "Paleface white man!" watcher kept his eyes strained toward the black silent woods. The dying man was laid on a rude bed within one cabin, and old Joel lay on the floor of It close to the door. The stranger lad refused ta sleep indoors and huddled himself In a blanket on the ground in one corner of the stockade. stock-ade. Men, women and children fell to a deep and weary sleep. An hour later the boy In the corner threw aside his blanket, and when, a moment mo-ment later, Lydia Noe, feverish and thirsty, rose from her bed to get a drink of water outside her door, she stopped short on the threshold. Tiie lad, stark naked but for his breech-clout breech-clout and swinging his bloody scalp over his head, was stamping around the tire dancing the scalp-dance of the savage to a low, fierce, guttural song. The boy saw her, saw her face in the blaze, stricken while with fright and horror, saw her too paralyzed para-lyzed to move and he stopped, staring at her a moment with savage rage, and went on again. Old Joel's body filled the next doorway. He called out with a harsh oath, and again the boy stopped. With another oath and a threatening gesture Joel motioned to the corner of the stockade, and with a flare of defiance in his black eyes the lad stalked slowly and proudly away. From behind him the voice of the wounded man called, and old Joel turned. There was a ghastly smile on the Virginian's pallid face. "I saw it," he said painfully. "That's that's my son !" CHAPTER III From the sundial on the edge of the high bank, straight above the brim of the majestic yellow James, a noble patli of thick grass as broad as a modern highway ran hundreds of yards between hedges of roses straight to the open door of the great manor-house with its wide verandas CHAPTER II ' Old Jerome and Dave and the older men gathered in one corner of the stockade for a council of war. The boy had made it plain that the attacking attack-ing party was at least two days behind be-hind the three Indians from whom he had escaped, so that there was no danger that day, and they could wait until night to send messengers to warn the settlers outside to seek safety within the fort. Meanwhile, Jerome would dispatch five men with Dave to scout for the three Indians who might be near by in the woods, and the boy, who saw them slip out the rear gate of the fort, at once, knew their purpose, pur-pose, shook his head, and waved his hand to say that his late friends were gone hack to hurry on the big war party to tiie attack, now that the whites themselves knew their danger. Old Jerome nodded that he under-stood, under-stood, and nodded to others his appre-ciation appre-ciation of the sense and keenness of the lad, but he let Uie men go just the same. .Mother Sanders appeared and cried to Bud to bring the "Injun" to her cabin. She had been unearthing clothes for the "little heathen," and Bud helped to put them on. In a few minutes the lad reappeared in fringed hunting shirt and trousers, wriggling in them most uncomfortably, for they made him itch, but at the same time wearing them proudly. On the mighty wilderness the sun sank slowly and old Jerome sat in the western tower to watch alone. The silence out there was oppressive and significant, for it meant that the boy's theory was right; the three Indians had gone back to their fellows, and when darkness came the old man sent runners to the outlying cabins to warn the inmates to take refuge within the fort. And the gathering was none "freemen" should have a voice In the elections, have errual right to say who the lawmakers and what the law. The way was open as now. Any man could get two thousand acres by service to the colony, could build, plow, reap, save, buy servants, and roll In his own coach to sit as burgess. There was but one seat of learning at Williamsburg. What culture they had they brought from England or got from parents or minister. And always al-ways they had seemed to prefer sword and stump to the pen. They hated towns. At every wharf a long shaky trestle ran from a warehouse out into the river to load ships with tobacco for England and to get in return all conveniences and luxuries, and that was enough. In towns men jostled and individual freedom was lost, so. Ho! for the great sweeps of land and the sway of a territorial lord ! Englishmen Eng-lishmen they were of Shakespeare's time but living in Virginia, and that Is all they were save that the flower of liberty was growing faster in the new-world soil. Englishmen called It the "Good Land," and found It "most plentiful, sweet, wholesome, and fruitful of all others." Down it now came a little girl the flower of all those dead and gone and her coming was just as though one of the flowers about her had stepped from its gay company on one or the other side of the path to make through them a dainty, triumphal march as the fairest of them all. At the dial she paused and her impatient impa-tient blue eyes turned to a bend of the yellow river for the first glimpse of a gay barge that soon must come. At the wharf the song or negroes rose as they unloaded the boat just from Richmond. She would go and see It there was not a package for her mother moth-er and perhaps a present for herself, so with another look to the river bend she turned, but she moved no farther. Instead, she gave a little gasp, in which there was no fear, though what she saw was surely startling enough to have made her wheel in flight. Instead, In-stead, she gazed steadily into a pair of grave black eyes that were fixed on her from under a green branch that overhung the footpath, and steadily she searched the figure standing there, from the coonskin cap down the fringed hunting-shirt and fringed breeches to the mocensined feet. And still the strange figure stood arms folded, motionless and silent. Neither the attitude nor the silence was quite pleasing, and the girl's supple slender-ness slender-ness stiffened, her arms went rigidly to her sides, and a haughty little snap sent her undimpled chin upward. "Who are you and what do you want?" It was a new way for a woman to speak to a man ; he in turn was not pleased, and a gleam in his eys showed it. "I am the son of a king." She started to laugh, but grew puzzled, puz-zled, for she had the blood of Pocahontas Poca-hontas herself. "You are an Indian?" He shook his head, scorning to explain, ex-plain, dropped his rifle to the hollow of his arm, and, reaching for his belt where she saw the buekhorn handle of a hunting-knife, came toward her, but she did not flinch. Drawing a tetter tet-ter from the belt, he handed it to her. It was so worn and soiled that she took it daintily and saw ' on it her father's name. The boy waved his hand toward the house far up the path. "He live here?" "You wish to see him?" The boy grunted assent, and with a shock of resentment the little lady started up the path with her head very high indeed. The boy slipped noiselessly after her, his face unmoved, un-moved, but his eyes were darting right and left to the flowers, trees, and bushes, to every flitting, strange bird, the gray streak of a scampering squirrel, squir-rel, and what he could not see. his ears tool; in the clanking chains of work-horses, the whir of a quail, the screech of a peacock, the songs of negroes from far-off fields. On the porch sat a gentleman In powdered wig and knee-breeches, who, lifting his eyes from a copy of The Spectator to give an order to a negro servant, saw the two coining, and the first look of bewilderment on his tine face gave way to a tolerant smile, lie asked no question, for a purpose very decided and d. -finite was plainly bringing the little lady on, and he would not have to question. Swiftly she ran up the steps, her mouth primly prim-ly set. and handed him a letter. "The messenger is the son of a king." "A what?" "The son of a king," she repeated. "Ah." said the gentleman, humoring her. "ask his highness to lie seated." His highness was looking from one to the other gravely and keenly. He did not quite understand, but he knew gentle fun was being poked at him, and he dropped sullenly on the edge of the porch anil stared In front of him. The little girl saw that his moccasins moc-casins were much worn and that In one was a hole with the edge bloodstained. blood-stained. And then she began to watch her father's face, which showed that the contents of the letter were astounding him. He rose quickly when he had finished and put out his hand to the stranger. "I am glad to see you. my boy." he said with great kindness. "Rarbnra, this is a little kinsman of ours from Kentucky. He was the adopted son of an Indian chief, but by blood lie Is your cousin. His name is Erskine DnbV "Mrs. Willoughbv, may I ! present by cousin from Kentucky?" Ken-tucky?" (TO BE CONTi-S'L'ElJ.) too soon. The hooting of owls started before dawn. A flaming arrow hissed from the woods, thudded into the roof of one of the cabins, sputtered feebly on a dew-drenched ridge-pole, and went out. Savage war-whoops rent the air, and the battle was on. All day the fight went on. There were feints of attack In front and rushes from the rear, and there were rushes from all sides. The women loaded rifles and cooked and cared for the wounded. Thrice an Indian reached the wall of the stockade and set a cabin on fire, but no one of the three got back to the woods alive. The stranger boy sat stoically In the center of the enclosure watching everything, and making no effort to take part. Late in the afternoon after-noon the ammunition began to run low and the muddy discoloration of the river showed that the red men had 0, begun to tunnel under the walls of the fort. And yet a last sally was made just before sunset. A body pushed ngalnst Dave in the tower and Dave saw the stranger fioy at his side with his bow and arrow. A few minutes later be heard a yell from the lad which rang high over the din, and he saw the feathered tip of an arrow-shaking arrow-shaking In (lie breast of a big Indian who staggered and fell behind a bush. Just at that moment there were yells from the woods behind lite yells of "Who Is That Boy?" He Asked Sharply. and mighty pillars set deep back from the river in a grove of ancient oaks. Behind the house spread a little kingdom, divided into fields of grass wheat, tobacco, and corn, and dotted with white-washed cabins filled with slaves. Already the house had been built a hundred years of brick brought from England In the builder's own ships, it was said, and the second son of the reigning generation, one Colonel Dale, sat in the veranda alone. Me was a royalist officer, this second son. but his elder brother had the spirit of daring and adventure thnt should have been his. and he liad liivn sitting there four years before when that elder brother, came Inane from his first pioneering trip into the wilds, to tell that his wife was dead and their only son was a captive among the Indians. Two years later still, word came that the father, too had met death from the savages, and the little kingdom passed into Colonel Dale's hands. Indentured servants, as well as blacks from Africa, had labored on that path in front of him; and up It had once stalked a deputation of the great Powhatan's red tribes. Vp that path had come members of the worshipful House of Burgesses; bluff planters in silk coats, the governor and members of the council; distinguished dis-tinguished visitors from England, colonial gentlemen and ladies. And al' was English still books, clothes, plates." knives, and forks; the church the Church of England ; the Governor, the representative of the King: his Council, the English Parliament socially so-cially aristocratic, politically republican. repub-lican. For ancient usage held that all white men that were answered ny Joyful yells within the fort : "The Virginians! The Virginians!" And as the rescuers dashed into sight on horse and afoot, Dave saw the lad leap the wall of the stockade and dis appear behind the lleeing Indians. "Gone back to 'em," he grunted to 4iiisclf. The gates were thrown open. Old Jerome and Ills men rushed out. and besieged and rescuers poured all their lire after the running Indians, some of whom turned bravely to empty emp-ty their rifles once more. "Git In I Git in, quick !" yelled old Joel. lie knew another volley would come as soon as the Indians reached the cover of thick woods, and come the volley did. Three men fell one the leader of the Virginians, whose bead flopped forward as he entered the gate ami was caught in old Joel's arms. Not another sound came from the woods, but again Dave from the tower saw the cane-brush rustle at the edge of a thicket, saw a hand thrust upward with the palm of- peace toward the fort, and again the stranger boy emerged this time with bloody scalp dangling In his left hand. Dave sprang down and met him at the gate. The boy shook his bow and arrow proudly, pointed to a crisscross criss-cross scar on the scalp, and Dave made out from his explanation that once before the lad had tried to kill bis tormentor and that the scar was the sign. In the center of the enclosure enclos-ure the wounded Virginian lay. and when old Jerome stripped the shirt from his breast he shook his bead gravely. The wounded man opened his eyes Just in time to see and lie smiled. "I know It," he said faintly, and then his eyes caught the boy with the |