"BY dusk we ought to be inside sight of the Indian town," said Caleb Pusey as the six men on horseback plummeted the harsh trail and turned out in the glare of the evening sun. Beneath them spread a wide Pennsylvania valley, so far untouched by a furrow, for this was in the beginning of the province, much sooner than the Progressive War.
"It lies just past there line of trees, does it not?" asked a more youthful man, James West, indicating down the valley.
Caleb gestured gravely. Every one of the men looked greatly genuine as peacefully they guided their steeds among the free shakes and around fallen trees. At that point one man talked:
"Caleb, who was it conveyed the word to our settlement of the Indian uprising? You know I was not present the previous evening when the Councilors met.?"
"It was old Red Wing's squaw. They were constantly most benevolent to the whites. She came into the town late toward the evening and halted the principal man she met, who happened to be the metal forger. From his fashion the news spread like fire, and I have never observed such frenzy. It was said five hundred, nay a thousand, Indian warriors were get-together for the fight to come — their countenances were painted — their drums were thumping — at any minute they would be upon us! Overlooked were the astute boards of William Penn and the long, unbroken peace with our red siblings. The discussion was all of outfitting and walking against the Indians before they could contact us. Our pioneers have never had arms — nor required them. Presently they should be obtained! The Gathering was called for quick activity."
"Ok, I wish you had heard Caleb at that meeting!" cried James West with boyish excitement. "Amidst the contention of the Councilors as to where firearms could be obtained, Caleb rose and his eyes shone like coals — "
"It was my heart that smoldered with disgrace for my kin," mumbled Caleb.
James proceeded with anxiously, "He cried in a voice that hushed their unhinged bickerings, 'I will go to where the Indians are said to assemble, if the Gathering will designate five others to run with me unarmed.' The Committee challenged. They said it would be however a living penance. The six men would be clearly killed. Caleb pronounced that the length of we were unarmed and unafraid, we were sheltered, as we generally had been."
Caleb took the story up. "James, here, was next to me in a moment. These other great companions communicated their endorsement and eagerness to go. I realized that I could rely on upon you. So the Board couldn't well decline to permit us to leave on our errand, however they had little confidence. I don't question, myself, that when we converse with the Indian boss we can find the inconvenience and put matters right."
The others gestured. Still each man acknowledged, despite these sprightly words, that they were running a grave hazard. Indians when once stirred, don't tune in to contention. The hearts of the six white men beat speedier as finally they came quite close to the lean-tos of the Indian town.
A couple yellow mutts woofed sharply and two minimal chestnut kids playing on the edge of the forested areas, fled and peeped at the outsiders from behind trees. There was no other indication of life. The greater part of the wigwams were shut as though forsaken. From the pinnacle of one, bigger than the rest and close to the focal point of the field, climbed a languid twist of smoke. The men rode to it. An old Indian, apparently the boss, lay on a heap of skins outside the open folds, calmly smoking a cut red-dirt pipe. He climbed gradually and stood graciously before the white men.
They got off, and Caleb offered the Indian his hand, which the old man shook warmly, asking in broken English, "What can an old boss accomplish for his paleface companions?"
The idea crossed James West's mind that maybe this was a trap, maybe the warriors were altogether shrouded prepared to spring out upon them, or had officially withdrawn to assault the settlement of whites. Breathlessly he sat tight for the central's answer when Caleb Pusey asked, imprudently:
"Your lean-tos appear to be vacant, Boss. Where are your young fellows and ladies?"
The Boss waved his hand toward the woods past the valley.
"For three days my men have been chasing deer far away toward the north. The ladies, old and youthful, are working in the fields past the waterway. What could my kin accomplish for the outsiders?"
The earnestness of the old man's yearning to be agreeable was evident to the point that the white men were humiliated and embarrassed to need to clarify their errand.
"Actually a false report achieved the ears of the white pilgrims, and we were sent to figure out if it could be valid," Caleb started. "An Indian lady disclosed to us that the tribes were ascending against us."
The Boss ventured back as if he had been struck, his eyes bursting with outrage.
"It is false!" he cried. "That lady ought to be singed to death, for she may have made much underhandedness! We have no fight with the white men."
"It lies just past there line of trees, does it not?" asked a more youthful man, James West, indicating down the valley.
Caleb gestured gravely. Every one of the men looked greatly genuine as peacefully they guided their steeds among the free shakes and around fallen trees. At that point one man talked:
"Caleb, who was it conveyed the word to our settlement of the Indian uprising? You know I was not present the previous evening when the Councilors met.?"
"It was old Red Wing's squaw. They were constantly most benevolent to the whites. She came into the town late toward the evening and halted the principal man she met, who happened to be the metal forger. From his fashion the news spread like fire, and I have never observed such frenzy. It was said five hundred, nay a thousand, Indian warriors were get-together for the fight to come — their countenances were painted — their drums were thumping — at any minute they would be upon us! Overlooked were the astute boards of William Penn and the long, unbroken peace with our red siblings. The discussion was all of outfitting and walking against the Indians before they could contact us. Our pioneers have never had arms — nor required them. Presently they should be obtained! The Gathering was called for quick activity."
"Ok, I wish you had heard Caleb at that meeting!" cried James West with boyish excitement. "Amidst the contention of the Councilors as to where firearms could be obtained, Caleb rose and his eyes shone like coals — "
"It was my heart that smoldered with disgrace for my kin," mumbled Caleb.
James proceeded with anxiously, "He cried in a voice that hushed their unhinged bickerings, 'I will go to where the Indians are said to assemble, if the Gathering will designate five others to run with me unarmed.' The Committee challenged. They said it would be however a living penance. The six men would be clearly killed. Caleb pronounced that the length of we were unarmed and unafraid, we were sheltered, as we generally had been."
Caleb took the story up. "James, here, was next to me in a moment. These other great companions communicated their endorsement and eagerness to go. I realized that I could rely on upon you. So the Board couldn't well decline to permit us to leave on our errand, however they had little confidence. I don't question, myself, that when we converse with the Indian boss we can find the inconvenience and put matters right."
The others gestured. Still each man acknowledged, despite these sprightly words, that they were running a grave hazard. Indians when once stirred, don't tune in to contention. The hearts of the six white men beat speedier as finally they came quite close to the lean-tos of the Indian town.
A couple yellow mutts woofed sharply and two minimal chestnut kids playing on the edge of the forested areas, fled and peeped at the outsiders from behind trees. There was no other indication of life. The greater part of the wigwams were shut as though forsaken. From the pinnacle of one, bigger than the rest and close to the focal point of the field, climbed a languid twist of smoke. The men rode to it. An old Indian, apparently the boss, lay on a heap of skins outside the open folds, calmly smoking a cut red-dirt pipe. He climbed gradually and stood graciously before the white men.
They got off, and Caleb offered the Indian his hand, which the old man shook warmly, asking in broken English, "What can an old boss accomplish for his paleface companions?"
The idea crossed James West's mind that maybe this was a trap, maybe the warriors were altogether shrouded prepared to spring out upon them, or had officially withdrawn to assault the settlement of whites. Breathlessly he sat tight for the central's answer when Caleb Pusey asked, imprudently:
"Your lean-tos appear to be vacant, Boss. Where are your young fellows and ladies?"
The Boss waved his hand toward the woods past the valley.
"For three days my men have been chasing deer far away toward the north. The ladies, old and youthful, are working in the fields past the waterway. What could my kin accomplish for the outsiders?"
The earnestness of the old man's yearning to be agreeable was evident to the point that the white men were humiliated and embarrassed to need to clarify their errand.
"Actually a false report achieved the ears of the white pilgrims, and we were sent to figure out if it could be valid," Caleb started. "An Indian lady disclosed to us that the tribes were ascending against us."
The Boss ventured back as if he had been struck, his eyes bursting with outrage.
"It is false!" he cried. "That lady ought to be singed to death, for she may have made much underhandedness! We have no fight with the white men."
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