Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 105: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Scout for Virginia that any change in their attitude could prevent the Ohio Indians from slaying at every oppor- tunity. No matter how much they might decry the acts of Hughes and his mates in time of peace, there was no denying the fight- ing-value of the quartet when it came to war. No word was spoken until the last of the four killers had filed away to secure their horses . and be gone. Then Davis said: “Time to eat, Ericus. Let’s go back and see how the women-folks is gettin’ along.” .. Keep that white scum from this creek until I°can carry a bag of talk to Cornstalk and Logan and you won’t need any armed bullies to protect you,” said Dale. “We ain’t askin’ of ’em to look after us, nor you with your white belts, neither,” shrilly proclaimed Uncle Dick. Some of the younger men laughed. Dale reddened, but turned to walk with his cousin without making any answer. He all but bumped into me. “Why, Morris!” he greeted, staring at me in surprize. “You bob up everywhere. Will you go with me to the Scioto villages?” “Go as what?” I cautiously asked. The men gathered closer about us. “Go as a trader, carrying white wampum. Go to make peace with the Shawnees,” slowly replied Dale, his, eyes burning with the fire of fanaticism. “Not hankering for slow fires nor to have squaws heap coals on my head, I must refuse,”’ I retorted. ‘But I’ll go with you or any man, as a scout.” “In your blood, too,” he jeered. “TI didn’t suppose you’d been out here long enough to lose your head.” : “Td certainly lose it if the Shawnees got me,” I good-naturedly retorted. My poor jest brought a rumble of laughter from the men and added to Dale’s resentment, which I greatly regretted. John Ward glided to my side and said: “You talk like a child. I have been long sees the Indians. They did not take my ea noes —— the fellow! I didn’t like him. There was something of the snake in his way of stealthily approaching. I could not get it out of my head that he must be half-red. Had he been all Indian, I might have found some- thing in him to fancy; for there were red men whom I had‘ liked and had respected immensely. But Ward impressed me as being neither white nor red. He stirred my bile. Without think- ing much, I shot back at him: “Perhaps they did something worse to you than to take your head. Are you sure they didn’t take your heart?” He turned on his heel and stalked away.’ Dale snarled: “You’re worse than Hughes and those other 95 fools. You even hate a poor white man who has been held a prisoner by the Indians. He comes back to his people and you welcome him by telling him he’s a renegade. Shame on you!” “No call for that sort of talk to Ward at all!” denounced Davis. “What call had Ward to say he was a fool?” loudly demanded one of the young men. “TI shouldn’t have said that,” I admitted, now much ashamed of my hot-headedness. “T’ll say as much to Ward when I see him next. If he’d look and act more like a white man — then I’d keep remembering that he is white. But I shouldn’t have said that.” “Morris, that’s much better,” said Dale. “T’ll tell him what you said and you needn’t eat your words a second time in public. I ad- mire you for conquering yourself and saying it.” Uncle Dick did not relish my retraction, and his near-sighted eyes glared at me in disgust. “Too much talkin’. Scouts oughter be out. Our friends, th’ killers, have quit us.” Glad to be alone, I volunteered— “T’ll scout half the circle, striking west, then south, returning on the east side.” Moulton, a quiet, soft-spoken fellow, but-a very demon in a fight, picked up his rifle and waved his hand to his wife and little girl and trotted in the opposite direction, calling back over his shoulders— — go east, north, and half-down the west side I finished on the north leg at the point where Moulton had commenced his scout. I made no discoveries while out. I walked to the fort and was glad to see that Moulton had but recently come in. I returned to the Davis cabin and passed behind it. So far as I could observe no sentinels had been posted on the east side of the clearing. In front of the cabin burned a big fire and there was a confusion of voices. I gained a position at the end of the cabin, and from the shadows viewed the scene. It was old to me, but new to Patsy, and she was deeply interested. The young men had erected a war-post, and had painted the upper half red, Now they were dancing and cavorting around the post like so many red heathens, bowing their heads nearly to the ground and then throwing them far back. They were stripped to the waist and had painted their faces, and as they danced they stuck their axes into the post and whooped and howled according to the Indian ceremony of declaring war. “T don’t like it!” I heard Dale protest. “But the boys only wanted Patsy to see how the Injuns git ready for war,’ defended Mrs. Davis. ‘An’, Lor’! Ain’t she all took up by it!’ “But it’s the way the border men declared war after the murder at Yellow Creek,” EO PNIE OC KS (E@