The Phantom of the River by Edward Sylvester Ellis (epub read online books txt) 📖

in the stillness many of their words, especially those uttered by the chieftain, were audible to the farthest point of the camp.

The observant eye of Finley told him a significant fact. Allowing for those that had fallen in the attack upon the flatboat, fully half a dozen of the warriors were absent. They were watching the movements of the whites who had crossed the river, and would soon report to The Panther.

The absence of these warriors, we say, was suggestive, but caused the missionary no concern. With the pioneers were Daniel Boone and his rangers, while Simon Kenton was somewhere between the hostile forces. After the late escape of the party from The Panther and his men, no great fear was to be entertained of them.

Mabel Ashbridge, wondering, distressed and sorrowful, sat on the fallen tree, now and then looking around the camp and following the movements of the painted men as they passed to and fro, some of them occasionally glancing toward her with a scowl and gleam of the black eyes, which terrified her, but most of the time her gaze rested upon the chieftain and white man talking near her.

How odd their words sounded! She could hear everything said, and yet it was in another language, and seemed as if they were mumbling over gibberish, like a couple of children for their own amusement, except that the chief most of the time acted as though he was angry at the white man, who looked so pleasant and kind that she was sure he must have a little girl at home.

But strange, novel and exciting as all this seemed, it soon became monotonous to her. Unable to learn of its meaning, she became drowsy, and, leaning over and laying her head on the log beside her, she closed her eyes in slumber.

Thus matters stood when the missionary said:

"The white and red children of the Great Spirit, I fear, will always fight each other. The missionary has tried to make them live in peace, but he can do nothing. The Shawanoes have made captive a little girl over whose head only the moons of a pappoose have passed. A few hours ago the pale-faces made captive the great chieftain Wa-on-mon, but the white hunter let him go free."

The Panther was about to interrupt angrily, when the missionary continued, with the same calm evenness of voice:

"The white hunter did not set Wa-on-mon free because he loved him, but rather because he hated him. He wished to meet him in combat; but when he went to the place where Wa-on-mon promised to meet him, the chieftain was not there. The great Wa-on-mon was not afraid of the white man; therefore, he must have made a mistake and gone elsewhere."

"Wa-on-mon made haste to meet his warriors, that he might lead them against the pale-faces and slay them all."

"He lost more braves than did the pale-faces, but the white hunter must not think the mighty Wa-on-mon is afraid of him."

The remark was as near an untruth as the conscience of the good man would permit him to go. No one, not even Simon Kenton, suspected The Panther was afraid to meet any white man that lived in a personal encounter. But the statement hit the chieftain in the most sensitive spot.

"Does the white hunter think Wa-on-mon is afraid to meet him in the depths of the wood, where no eye but that of the Great Spirit shall see them?"

"How can he help thinking so when Wa-on-mon agrees to meet him, and the white hunter goes to the spot, and waits for Wa-on-mon, who does not come?"

"But Wa-on-mon has told the missionary the reason," said The Panther, with a threatening movement and flash of his eyes.

"Wa-on-mon has not told the white hunter," returned the unruffled Finley.

"The missionary can tell him."

"And he will do so, but what shall he tell the white hunter when he asks whether Wa-on-mon will meet him again and prove he is not afraid?"

"Tell the white hunter that Wa-on-mon will meet him!" exclaimed The Panther, with a concentrated fury of voice and manner surpassing that which he had yet shown. He placed his hand threateningly upon his knife, as though in his wrath he would bury it in the body of the good man as a means of relief for the cyclone of hate that was aroused by his words.

It was the precise point for which Missionary Finley had been playing. The preliminary conversation had been aimed to bring The Panther to see that the only way he could save himself from the charge of cowardice was by meeting Kenton in mortal combat. Such an issue, in which one of the contestants must fall, was extremely distasteful to the man of peace. There could be only one combination of circumstances that would justify, in his judgment, that supreme test; that combination now existed.

With the skill of a trained diplomat, with his perfect knowledge of the Indian character, Finley kept matters moving.

"It will delight the heart of the white hunter to meet Wa-on-mon, as they were to meet only yesterday, and I know it will make glad the heart of Wa-on-mon to meet the white hunter in the woods, where no one can see them. Shall I tell the white hunter that these are the words of Wa-on-mon?"

"They are Wa-on-mon's words; he will meet the white hunter."

This was all well enough, and the negotiation was progressing satisfactorily; but the most delicate work yet remained to be done.

The arrangements for the encounter were yet to be completed, and, above all, the stake must be fixed, or, no matter what the issue, everything would come to naught.

"The white hunter and my brother, the great and mighty Wa-on-mon, cannot meet in the darkness of the wood, for when they meet they must see each others' faces."

It was the first time the missionary had ventured to speak of the chieftain as his brother since he was angrily forbidden to do so. He made no objection in the present instance, though possibly it was due to his mental excitement that he did not notice it.

"They shall meet when the sun rises over the tree-tops; Wa-on-mon will be there and await the white hunter, if he does not run away."

"The white hunter will not run away," quietly remarked the missionary, refraining from making the stinging retort that rose to his lips; "but my brother, the mighty Wa-on-mon, is wise, let him say how he and the white hunter shall meet, and the missionary will see that it is done."

Before the chieftain could formulate a scheme, the shrewd Finley was ready with that which he had formed while crossing the river in the canoe.

"Let Wa-on-mon go to the rock that lies yonder," he said, pointing up the stream, "it is but a small way beyond this camp; the rock is only the size of a canoe, and it is hardly above the surface of the water; does my brother know it?"

"Wa-on-mon knows where his brother, the missionary, means," replied the chieftain, thrilling the good man by the term used.

"Will he be there when the sun appears above the tree-tops?"

"Wa-on-mon will be there, armed only with his knife."

"It shall be the same with the white hunter."

But the sagacious Panther saw the difficulties that still confronted them. His "brother" had clinched the confidence the chieftain held in him by his selection of the battle-ground for the Kentucky side of the Ohio, not far from the Shawanoe camp. This reduced, as far as possible, the chances of treachery by the white men, and conceded a most important point to those with whom treachery has always been a cardinal virtue.

"The missionary will see that the white hunter is by the rocks when it begins to grow light in the east."

"Then what will the missionary do?"

"He will come back to the camp of Wa-on-mon and await his return."

Had he expressed his wishes he would have added the words, "hoping he will never come back again," but he was too wise to say anything of that nature.

"Wa-on-mon will not keep him waiting long," was the confident declaration of the Shawanoe.

"And when he returns?"

"Then my brother, the missionary, shall go free."

"And the little one asleep there?"

"She dies."

"Wa-on-mon will not return until the white hunter has fallen before his knife."

"No; but that will not be long."

"Suppose Wa-on-mon does not come back?" remarked Finley, in a matter-of-fact, off-hand manner, but it was the crucial point of the whole matter.

"He will come back," was the response of the chieftain.

"Does he think the white hunter will spare him? No," added the missionary, answering his own question. "But suppose my brother, the mighty Wa-on-mon, does not come back?"

"Then my brother, the missionary, shall go back to his people."

"But that is the promise my brother gave before; will he not say that if Wa-on-mon does not come back, the missionary shall return to his people and take the little captive with him?"

"Wa-on-mon gives his brother that pledge; he has spoken."

It was settled! The scheme that had been in the mind of the good man from the moment he paddled away from the flatboat was fully assented to by The Panther. If the latter overcame Simon Kenton in the hand-to-hand encounter, he would return to camp and put innocent Mabel Ashbridge to death.

If, on the other hand, the ranger overcame The Panther, or the latter was seen no more among his warriors, then the missionary was at liberty to take the tiny hand within his own, and make his way back to her friends without let or hindrance from the Shawanoes.

In other words, the life of the child was the stake at issue.

"Let my brother make known his wishes to his braves," said the missionary, losing no time in following up the advantage he had gained.

As if aware for the first time of the presence of his people around him, The Panther now beckoned to several to approach. They did so with a prompt readiness which suggested a camp of highly-disciplined soldiers. The chief explained what had been agreed upon, and made his orders so explicit that there could be no misconception on the part of any one. Finley watched closely while he listened, and saw that in this matter at least all was above board. The chieftain's self-confidence was so ingrained and deeply set that he could not doubt his own triumph.

But he astounded Rev. Mr. Finley by an unprecedented proof of faith in his honor.

The combat was to take place as near sunrise as could be arranged. As it was impossible to say beforehand precisely when The Panther would be due in camp, it was his order that the decision of the question should be left wholly with the missionary.

When he should declare to the leading Shawanoes that the time that had elapsed was so great that it was certain Wa-on-mon had been overthrown and would not come back to his warriors, then the missionary was free to take the little captive by the hand and walk away, and no one should say them nay.

It was an unprecedented compliment in respect to the integrity and honor of the good man; but, oh, what a temptation, when it promised to settle the question of life and death for