Three Young Pioneers Part 7

"We have established friends.h.i.+p with the Indians; we speak their language, and our little Sunday school scholars are surely waiting for us," Matthew commented; "so why should we stay? We do not fear the Indians!"

Nevertheless, Mrs. Bradley was much alarmed at the report of Indian hostilities, and she objected to the trip in gentle but emphatic words.

"We must not send them," she urged, "until we have heard that the country is safe."

"You are right, darling," her husband a.s.sented after a while; "money does not mean much to me. The good Lord has blessed us abundantly, and while my fur business is falling off somewhat, my trade in general merchandise is increasing among the settlers."

So the matter was postponed, much to the dissatisfaction of the three children who would have left for Connecticut that very day, had not their parents restrained them.

"Wait, until we get news from Mr. Rawlins," Mr. Bradley finally suggested, and to this all agreed.

After a few days the Indian guide, who was in Mr. Bradley's service, arrived, and the letter was immediately read and discussed by the whole family at the dinner table.

The message was encouraging. While Mr. Rawthis reported that the Indians were becoming more surly from day to day, he also expressed the opinion that there was no immediate danger, since the settlements were well protected, and the militia was well armed for war. But what was better than all this, was that the Englishmen were trying to conciliate the Pequots and to win their good will.

"That decides the matter," said Fred gleefully; "we shall leave as soon as we can get ready."

"But you, Agnes, must stay at home this time," Mrs. Bradley affirmed; "I won't let you go. The boys might escape, if danger should arise, but how can you bear the hards.h.i.+ps which follow an Indian War?"

"I must go along, Mrs. Bradley," Agnes pleaded; "why, how could the boys get along without me? Please, mother, let me go."

"No, Agnes," Mrs. Bradley objected; "we must not tempt G.o.d, and I would wish that also you boys would not go. It is safer here than in Connecticut."

"But, mother," Fred said; "there is no danger, and if we wait, until the world is a paradise of peace, we shall never accomplish anything at all in life."

The upshot was that Mrs. Bradley finally permitted Agnes to go, and she was happy at the thought.

When she was alone with Fred, she said to him, "Brother, your life is linked with mine, and I will never let you go alone. Where thou goest, I will go. United we will do what the good Lord will give us to do in this life."

Fred kissed his sister tenderly. "You are as true as gold," he said, "and I would miss you greatly if you would stay at home."

"There is no danger to fear," Agnes said; "the good Lord is everywhere, and we are in His hand. But I do not fear the Indians either; yes, I feel it to be my mission to conciliate and help them."

So after a few days when their preparations were completed, they left the safe and comfortable home to take the trail that led to the forests.

Their departure was somewhat delayed by the arrival of good Pastor Eliot, who came with his young wife to visit the Bradleys.

He was a pious and good man, and he discussed the proposition, which the children had in mind, with conscientious care.

"If we were living in England," he said, "I, no doubt, would dissuade the children from making so hazardous a trip. But since I have lived in America, I have learned many a lesson. Here the people are different. They are men and women, while in years they still are boys and girls. They think in terms which in old England only mature men and women use. They are not afraid of anything. The forest is their home. Hard work is their pleasure. Enterprises are the topic of their conversation. The spirit of adventure is bred into their hearts. What shall we say of this peculiar and heroic generation? May the Lord keep them in piety; otherwise, we, trusting in our strength, will perish."

"Your words are very true," Mrs. Bradley said; "but these children, thank G.o.d, are pious and unspoiled. They honor and respect their superiors; they are devout in their prayers and Bible studies; they care nothing for the sinful pleasures of the world; but I wish they would not go to dangerous Connecticut."

"We must entrust them to the Lord," said the good pastor; "perhaps some good will come out of this mission."

So after many a prayer and with many blessings, our three friends left their New England home, accompanied by an Indian guide and an Indian servant who had charge of the three pack horses.

CHAPTER VIII

PEQUOT INDIANS

"Hm," Fred muttered to himself, as he gazed around in wonder. "What is this?"

He immediately ran to the camp and called Matthew who was just rolling away the blankets in which they had slept.

"Look, what I have found!" he said to the boy. "It's an Indian arrow!"

"Where was it?" Matthew asked.

"It was driven tightly into a tree, right next to where the Indian guide slept."

"And where is the guide?" Matthew asked, growing pale.

"I don't know," said Fred while his lips trembled.

"Let us look for him," Matthew suggested.

"No, let us go back to the camp, and get ready to leave," said Agnes.

"This looks dangerous to me. Something is wrong."

The children had traveled for six days without having been molested by any one. It was late in August, and all nature seemed bathed in peace.

They had not met a single Indian, but found the villages deserted. This had somewhat surprised them, yet as nothing happened, they had not attached to it any importance.

Only the guide had been suspicious. He was a Mohican, and a man of middle age, who was well acquainted with the ways of the Pequots whom he hated thoroughly.

The old Indian servant who had attended to the horses had observed nothing, and he was greatly surprised when he was informed that the guide was missing.

"I will look for him," he said.

"No, you quickly pack the horses and get things in readiness, while Agnes and I will look for the guide. Matthew, you saddle the horses."

"Come, sister," Fred said, "let us investigate this mystery. Perhaps the guide has only gone after a rabbit, wis.h.i.+ng to prepare us a dainty surprise for breakfast."

But Agnes shook her head. "It is not a Mohican arrow, but a Pequot one," she said. "It was driven into the tree by a warbow. See, how deeply it entered the tree! And how strong the flint is and how well preserved, in spite of its being driven into the hard wood. That arrow was sent to kill a man."

"We must not paint the devil on the wall," Fred said cheerfully; but suddenly he became pale, for at his feet the gra.s.s was crushed down, and two forms were lying on the ground covered with blood.

One was that of the guide, whose hand gripped the throat of his foe, a large and burly Pequot Indian.

The Pequot was dead, choked by the steel clasp of his enemy's hand.

All around, the gra.s.s was trodden down, and the ground showed what a fierce struggle had been carried on in silence, while the rest slept in peace.

Suddenly Agnes bent over the form of the Mohican and pointed to a knife which his opponent had thrust into his back, to the heft.