Chapter XXX · THE MYSTERY SOLVED CONCLUSION

Bob, despite his long tramp, as well as the excitement that had been his portion during that day, felt little like sleeping. It seemed to him as though something weighed upon his mind, preventing him from enjoying his customary slumber. He did not know just what to make of it, and wondered whether it might mean that danger again hung over the cabin of his parents.

When the others had settled down, Bob wandered forth. It was not his turn to act as sentry, and so, instead of passing around to converse in low tones with Mr. Bancroft, who was serving at the time, he found a place where he could be comfortable, and there remained, with his back against the cabin wall.

The night was warm, so that it was no task to remain out of doors. Besides, Bob was accustomed to looking upon the star-decked sky as his roof. Many a time had he and Sandy slept in the open, with no other covering. They were hardy, as indeed all pioneer boys had to be, in order to encounter successfully the privations that seemed to be their birthright.

Bob, himself, hardly knew just why he had chosen to settle down there, where he could observe the door of his father’s new cabin in the flickering light of the dying fire. He seemed to take solid satisfaction in just sitting where he could keep his eyes upon it, while thinking about that other home, many hundred miles away, which they had left forever.

Bob was just becoming conscious of the fact that his eyes were feeling a trifle heavy, and wondering whether, after all, he would not be wise in entering the cabin, so as to seek rest upon the furs that constituted his couch, when he suddenly became aware that there was something moving between him and the almost dead fire.

Now thoroughly aroused, he bent over until upon his knees, and eagerly watched. In this fashion he presently became aware that it was a human figure, and not a prowling wolf, that had attracted his attention. It was surely advancing, slowly yet positively, toward the cabin occupied by the Armstrongs.

Bob felt his pulses thrill. Was this some friend of the prisoners, and did he mean to try to effect their release? Then why pick out the cabin where Sandy, Kate, Mr. Armstrong and the little mother slept, in total ignorance of the peril that seemed to hover above their heads; unless, as seemed possible, he knew not where the captive Frenchmen were confined. And it added to Bob’s anxiety when presently he made the alarming discovery that the silent creeper was a painted and feathered Indian!

Waiting until the creeper had bent low near the door of the cabin, Bob launched himself forward. He landed full upon the other’s back. There was an involuntary grunt from the Indian, and a twisting of the lithe figure; but either the savage did not wish to resist violently, or else he realized the folly of trying to get away from the strong clutch of the young pioneer, for he almost immediately relaxed his muscles, and remained there, limp enough.

Meanwhile Bob’s cries had brought forth, not only his father and the rest of the family, but everybody in the settlement. They came crowding around, the men with guns, ready to defend their families against a possible attack of the treacherous red foe.

Great, therefore, was the surprise of the men when they learned how Bob had captured the creeping Indian, whose actions would indicate that he must have had some base designs upon the Armstrong cabin. His arms had been hastily secured by one of the men; but he now stood calmly before them, apparently scorning to show any desire to flee.

Pat took one look at the prisoner, and uttered an exclamation of amazement.

“By the powers, now!” he cried, “and who would be afther expectin’ to say a Delaware brave as far away from his home country as this wan?”

“A Delaware!” echoed Sandy, in his turn pushing forward, to stare in the face of the prisoner; and then he, too, gave a cry.

“Bob, look here, and tell me if this isn’t that same young brave we found with his foot caught in a crevice of the rock, and nearly starved to death?”

And the astonished Bob, after coming closer to the prisoner, agreed with his younger brother.

“Yes, as sure as you live, it is the young brave who said at the time when we set him free and gave him meat, that his name was Buckongahelas, and his father a chief of the Delawares. Oh! now we know who sent those warning letters written on birch bark. Just as we guessed more than once, it was he. That was the Indian way of showing gratitude; and he has even followed us all the way to the Mississippi, in order to again help us. It is the strangest thing I ever knew.”

“But, if he is your friend, what was he creeping up to the door of your cabin for?” demanded Mr. Wayne, who did not trust the Indian nature any too well, and found it difficult to believe that any redskin could feel gratitude.

Sandy was already unfastening the thongs that held the arms of the Delaware behind his back; and he answered indignantly:

“I’m sure that, if you take the trouble to look, Mr. Wayne, you will find that he was placing another of his friendly birch-bark messages under the door of our cabin.”

It was Bob, however, inspired by a sudden thrilling hope, who turned to look; and, hardly had Sandy spoken, than the other gave a shout of delight, as he snatched some object up from the ground, where it had been pushed from the stoop by the hasty exit of the Armstrong family.

“The precious wampum belt, Sandy!” he cried in glee; “see, Buckongahelas has brought it back to us, and was about to leave it at our doorstep when I jumped on his back!”

“Oh! where do you think he could have found it?” gasped Sandy, as he took the gift of the great Pontiac from the hand of his brother, and even pressed it to his lips, because he considered it the greatest blessing the little colony could own.

“Stop and think, Sandy,” said Bob, trying to control his voice; “and you will surely remember what Jacques said about some one creeping upon them while they slept last night, taking only the belt, and nothing more. Buckongahelas did that; and to complete his splendid showing of Indian gratitude.”

They all now turned upon the young Delaware, as though expecting that he should explain the mystery; which he did not seem averse to doing, though he evidently knew so little of English that he spoke to Pat in his native tongue, and the trapper translated the same to the colonists.

“Buckongahelas owes his life to the young white hunters. When he would have died like the old wolf that has lost its teeth, and can no longer hold fast to its prey, they came and saved him. More than that, they gave him meat to take him on his journey to the lodges of his people.

“It is not well that a Delaware, and the son of a chief, should be in the debt of a white man. Buckongahelas made a vow to the Great Manitou that he would repay it all. So he hovered about the home of the palefaces. Many times he saw them and they knew it not. He had reason to hate the two French trappers who came from far away in the land of the setting sun. He watched, and saw that they meant harm to the family of the white friends of Buckongahelas. Again, and yet again, did the Delaware send messages with warning. Yet did the bad palefaces steal the belt of Pontiac away, and flee for the land of the Great Water.

“That was bad. Buckongahelas could not bear to see the grief of his white friends, and go back to his own lodge. A Delaware knows no fear. So, when they journeyed down the beautiful river on their new boat the Delaware was always near by. Day and night Buckongahelas kept with the palefaces; sometimes on a log floating along, and passing their camp, but always watching for the two bad men who would wrong their own kind by keeping the belt of Pontiac, that did not belong to them.

“And when the sun went down last night, the Delaware crept into the camp of the French trappers, and took away the belt that belonged to another. Now Buckongahelas feels that he can go back on the long journey to his own people. The debt has been paid, and he may look in the face of his father again. It is well.”

And so was the mystery lifted from the strange friendly warnings that, from time to time, had been received, when some particular peril hovered over the Armstrongs. After all, it was very simple. Both Bob and Sandy understood Indian nature well enough to know what a strong hold the question of honor had upon a brave like the highly-strung young Delaware. Proud of his own strength and courage, it galled him to think that he was under so great an obligation to those two half-grown white boys; and he could never rest content until he had succeeded in cancelling the debt after the manner of his people.

He would not remain even over the night with them, for, truth to tell, Buckongahelas had no particular love for the whites, no matter whether they were English or French; and what history tells about his future exploits amply proves that what he did for the Armstrongs was a purely personal matter, and not because he wished to be friendly toward the people who were slowly but surely driving his tribe toward the setting sun. The Delawares had once inhabited the land near Chesapeake and Delaware bays, though at that time they had moved so as to be further away from the encroaching whites. They now found that the latter were following on their track in constantly increasing numbers.

With the recovery of the wonderful wampum belt the boys no longer feared an Indian attack, unless something happened to Pontiac that would remove the famous sachem from the leadership of the confederated tribes. And we, who have read the history of our country in the early days, know that this did not occur for several years.

The new settlement progressed wonderfully. It was not very long before they had an accession, as the several families who had manifested a desire to follow them to the land of the Mississippi joined fortunes with those who had already built cabins, and were engaged in clearing and planting the land.

It soon became known to the Indians roundabout that the all-powerful Pontiac had spread his protecting mantle over this struggling little settlement on the bank of the Big Water; and from that hour they gave the colonists no trouble.

And the commandant at the nearest French trading post must have received the message that Mr. Armstrong forwarded in care of Jacques Larue, for he sent back word that there would be peace between his trappers and the little English settlement on the bank of the Mississippi.

The two rascally trappers had been greatly surprised at being let off without punishment. Perhaps their rough natures were not capable of comprehending the real meaning of the act; but they were glad to get away without paying for their evil deeds; and expressed the intention of fighting shy of the English settlement after that. As to whether they would keep their word or not may be made apparent later on, when many of the characters who have figured in this volume may be met again in the pages of a new book, to be called, “The Pioneer Boys of the Missouri.”

Bob and Sandy had good reason to feel satisfied with the outcome of their little act of kindness. Of course, it did not amount to much to them, when they released that young Delaware from his rocky trap, by means of which his foot had been held secure for several days; but, to the mind of the Indian, it was a debt that must be sacredly paid several fold. And, whenever they looked upon the magic wampum belt that stood as a signet of the all-powerful protecting arm of Pontiac, the boys were wont to exchange a significant glance, as though to say that “bread cast upon the waters will return ere many days.” And surely this saying had been amply justified in their case.

THE END.