A Volunteer with Pike Part 10

Perish superst.i.tion! Who but the ignorant believes in signs and omens?

And if mine was in truth a wild-goose chase, the sooner I reached the end of my running the better. I neither would nor could have checked myself had the thought come to me to turn back.

A journey tedious enough in the best of seasons is not improved by April rains and boggy roads. On the other hand, I had that drawing me Westward which would have spurred the tortoise into striving for the hare's leap.

It is sufficient evidence of my haste to state that, for all the condition of the roads, I made in fifteen days the trip which is considered well covered if ridden in nineteen.

Let me hasten to add that this was not done on one nag. Even had not my love of man's second friend served to prevent so brutal an attempt, failure would have been inevitable. With the best of roads, not a horse in the Republic could have carried through a man of my weight in the time. The attempt was not necessary. Thanks to a kindly acquaintance here and there along my route and to a sufficiency of silver in my saddlebags, I managed to obtain a fresh mount on an average of twice in every three days. With such relays, I was able to ride post-haste, yet leave behind me each horse, in turn, none the worse for his part in the race.

Up hill and down dale, pound, splatter, and chug, I pushed my mounts to their best pace, along the old Philadelphia road. In other circ.u.mstances and under clearer skies I might have paused now and again to enjoy the pleasant aspect of the Alleghany scenery,--its winding rivers and brooks, its romantic heights and budding woods. But from the first my thoughts were ever flying ahead to the Monongahela, and the sole interest I turned to my surroundings was centred upon such urgent matters as food, lodging, and fresh mounts.

At the end of the journey I found myself in clear memory of but three incidents,--a tavern brawl with a dozen or more carousing young farmers, who chose to consider themselves insulted by my refusal to take more than one gla.s.s of their raw whiskey; the swimming of the Susquehanna River, because of a disablement of the ferry; and a brush with a trio of highwaymen at nightfall in the thick of a dense wood. The rascals did not catch me with damp priming. When they sprang out at me, I knocked over the foremost, as he reached for the bridle, with a thrust of my rifle muzzle, and swung the barrel around in time to shatter the shoulder of the second fellow with a shot fired from the hip. The third would have done for me had not his priming flashed in the pan. He turned and leaped back into the thicket, while I was quite content to clap spurs to my horse and gallop on up the road.

But even this last adventure failed to hold a place in my thoughts when at last, near mid-afternoon of the fifteenth day, I came in view of Elizabethtown on the Monongahela. Here it was I had reason to hope that I might overtake Senor Vallois and his party. With roads so difficult, it was more to be expected that he would take boat from this lively little s.h.i.+pping point than rag on through the mire to Pittsburg.

Cheered by the thought, I urged my horse into a jog trot, which, however, soon fell back into a walk as the weary beast floundered through the deeper mire of the town's main street. I rode as directly as possible toward the leading tavern. Senor Vallois was not the man to lie at any other than the best of inns when choice offered.

With quick-beating heart I made out the sign of the tavern I sought, and again attempted to urge my horse into a jog. He was slow to respond either to word or spur, and I suddenly gave over the effort at sight of a tall and dignified figure which stepped from the inn door and swung easily upon the horse which a half-grown lad had been holding in wait.

The first glance had told me what I most wished to know. My chase had not been fruitless. The Spanish cloak and hat and high riding boots of the don were unmistakable, even had I not recognized the Spanish dignity of his bearing. Certain of his ident.i.ty, I would have preferred to postpone a meeting until I had found opportunity to bathe and to change to the one s.h.i.+ft of linen and clothes which I carried behind the cantle of my saddle. Yet I made no attempt to avoid him when he wheeled his horse about and rode directly toward me.

Had it not been for our first meeting in the yellow clay of Was.h.i.+ngton's famous avenue, I doubt if the don were unmistakable, even had I not recognized buckskins. With that memory in mind, it is not unlikely that my mud-smirched condition only served to add to the quickness of his perception. We were almost pa.s.sing, when he raised his eyes, which had been staring down into the miry road in frowning abstraction. His glance swept over me and rested on my face. A moment later he had drawn rein and was bowing to me.

"_Por Dios!_ It is our gallant _caballero_ of the mire!--_Buenos dias_, Dr. Robinson!"

"To you the same, Senor Vallois!" I returned.

"It is a strange chance which brings us to a meeting in this wilderness bog," he remarked, with what I thought was a shade of suspicion in his proud black eyes.

There was every reason for me to seek at once to place myself on the footing with him that I desired. Meeting his glance with a careless nod, I answered readily: "It is a pleasant chance which brings us together here, but not a strange one. Little travel comes from Philadelphia to the Ohio other than on the road we both have such cause to remember."

"From Philadelphia?" he questioned.

"I carry despatches from Colonel Burr."

"You!" he cried, thrown out of his aristocratic reserve. But in the same breath he was bowing his apologies. "Your pardon, senor! I was not aware that you and Colonel Burr--"

"Nor he, senor, until a few days ago," I hastened to explain. "Senator Adair of Kentucky was formerly my father's friend and camp-mate. He advised me to see Colonel Burr. When I started upon my return West, I came by way of Philadelphia. It did not take me long to come to an agreement with--" I lowered my voice and leaned nearer the don--"the man who professes an intention to strike off the fetters of a land dear to Senor Vallois."

"_Poder de Dios!_" cried the don, reaching his hand to me with a fiery impetuosity of which I had believed him incapable--"_Santisima Virgen!_ You are one of us! You have cast in your lot with the new league of freedom!"

It angered me that I must qualify. "Hold, senor! I did not say that. I have not gone so far--as yet."

"As yet?" he demanded.

"Your pardon, senor, but many such projects are schemed, and in the end prove to be--'castles in Spain.'"

He smiled gravely and without offence. "Senor, I give you my word that I and my friends are prepared to build the Western wall of the castle."

"Your word, senor, is sufficient. But there remains the Eastern wall, and I am doubtful of the builders. I did not ask for Colonel Burr's word. I preferred something more substantial. He has promised that I shall receive such proof upon my arrival at St. Louis."

"Then you, too, go to the--to St. Louis?"

"To the General," I responded, surmising that it was General Wilkinson whom he had hesitated to name.

"You spoke of despatches."

"Letters from the Colonel to parties we both seek, in St. Louis and New Orleans."

"Colonel Burr entrusted me with numerous despatches."

"He mentioned the day of my visit with him in Philadelphia as the eighth after your departure. That week may have seen developments or changes which required fresh despatches."

"_Poder de Dios!_" he exclaimed. "You left Philadelphia eight days later--and are here!"

"At your service, senor."

"_Santisima Virgen!_ And I had four horses to my carriage!"

"I had nine horses beneath my saddle, in succession."

"_Virgen!_ What a _caballero_!"

"When a man is in haste to see his journey's end, senor, he does not loll about taverns on the way. You came in yesterday?" He bowed. "Then you may be able to tell me what are the chances of obtaining quick pa.s.sage down the river."

He looked across toward the s.h.i.+pyards with a frown.

"I am now on my way to inquire, senor," he answered. "Against the better counsel of Colonel Burr, I was so ill advised as to bring a seaman from the seaboard to have charge of the water journey."

"A salt-water sailor on an Ohio flat!" I exclaimed.

"The senor forgets that I am a stranger to his forest wilderness."

"Your pardon, Senor Vallois!--Permit me to ride with you. It may be I can a.s.sist you."

"_Na-da-a!_" he protested. "I cannot permit it. You have ridden for fifteen days at more than post speed. You must first refresh yourself."

"The senor forgets that I am no less eager than himself to arrange for the river pa.s.sage. Rest a.s.sured I am good for another day in the saddle, if need be, at your service, senor."

As I wheeled around, and we started for the riverside, he looked me up and down with a wondering glance.

"_Por Dios!_" he muttered. "I had thought none could ride as ride our _vaqueros_. You are a man of iron."

"I am the son of my father," I replied. "How other than hard could be the sons of the men who wrested this Western land from the savages,--who have driven the Cherokees, Creeks, and Choctaws south of Tennessee, and pressed back the Northwest Indians to their present fastnesses about the Great Lakes?"

"It is true," he said. "I have been told no little of that most cruel and ferocious warfare waged by your savage enemies. I myself know the fearsomeness of the raids of our equally ferocious Apaches and Yaquis.

Therefore I do not wonder that the men and the sons of the men who met their painted enemies in this gloomy wilderness should have become not only hard, but rude and harsh in their manners."

"Given that and the prevailing craze for raw whiskey, and we have--what we have. Yet they are the men whose fathers met the Indian on his own ground; who themselves have met the ravaging war parties, and who will doubtless again meet them,--though I trust not again on the banks of the Ohio."

"May the Virgin grant that your trust is well founded!" returned the senor, with deep earnestness. "Yet the British soldiers still hold your lake forts, and it is rumored that the British agents are ever at work conspiring with the Northern tribes against the interests of your people. Let me predict that unless Britain is humbled by the great Emperor, she will make excuse of your many differences to crush your Republic and regain these lost colonies."