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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..74a5e7a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68942 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68942) diff --git a/old/68942-0.txt b/old/68942-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f4c5902..0000000 --- a/old/68942-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1089 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Red stripes, by Hugh Pendexter - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Red stripes - -Author: Hugh Pendexter - -Release Date: September 8, 2022 [eBook #68942] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED STRIPES *** - - - -Red Stripes - -by Hugh Pendexter - -Hugh Pendexter’s NEW story of Midwestern Pioneers - - -From the moment he was made captive near the station on the Big -Sandy, the Virginian began looking for an opportunity to escape. He -was ferociously angry at himself for venturing outside the station -against the advice of the small garrison. Recently arrived from -Richmond, he had presumed to know more about red men than did the -border people. He had insisted the Indians had abandoned the siege -after losing three warriors and having two wounded. And within easy -gunshot of the stockade he had been jumped by the Wyandots and -hustled away. His captors were from the Lower Sandusky village. -Throughout the journey down the Sandy and up the Ohio to the -Guyandotte Crossing he had nursed his resentment against the Indians -and himself. In the back of his mind was the hope he would find an -opportunity to break clear before crossing to the Indian shore. But -the Guyandotte was reached and the Ohio was crossed without a minute -of carelessness on the part of the raiders. At night the Virginian -slept as best he could with a rawhide thong around his waist, from -which lines were attached to the waist of a warrior on each side. In -addition to this precaution his feet and hands were tied. When canoes -were abandoned for forest travel his hands were tied at his back and -he was led along by a length of rawhide around his neck. He fell and -bruised himself. He was hauled through bushes and was scratched by -briers from head to waist. At times the cord tightened, and he was -all but strangled. - -The leader of the Wyandots was a short, thick-set man. Unlike his -followers he wore no paint on his face and his countenance was -agreeable and very intelligent. His only attempt at adornment was the -red stripe following the backbone from the nape of his neck to his -waist. All of his men were similarly painted and in addition were -grotesque and frightful because of the patterns masking their faces. -The raid had been a failure, and the warriors were in an evil mood. -The chief realized that his popularity as a leader would quickly wane -did he encounter one more defeat, yet he treated the prisoner kindly -once a camp was made. In person he saw to it that the Virginian had -water and meat. This consideration led the prisoner to believe that -at the worst he would be held in some red village until he could be -ransomed. - -After he reached the Indian shore several ambitious young men -remained behind and did not rejoin the band until the evening of the -second day. They brought in two scalps and one prisoner. The chief -rejoiced greatly. He would be credited with victory by a slight -margin. The horrid proofs of the tragedy were danced with much -enthusiasm that evening. - -When he found himself by the prisoner the Virginian asked for -details. - -“We was took by surprize while setting traps for beaver and otter,” -the man explained in a monotonous voice. “I’m Abner Bryant. There was -the three of us, Ben an’ Tom Durgin an’ me. Ben ’lowed he could make -a fire-hole in a clump of willers that no Injun could see. Well, both -the Durgins are dead.” - -He was a thin, dried-out wisp of a man whose head was thinly frosted -by a round number of years. He spoke without emotion, as one who is -weary. His acceptance of his capture and the death of his friends -smacked of fatalism. The incident was closed and did not interest -him. However, he was curious enough to inquire-- - -“Who might you be?” - -“Harry Knight. A fool. Knew more’n my elders at the station on the -Big Sandy,” was the bitter reply. “We got three of them. Then I had -to go outside the stockade to prove I knew it all and that the Injuns -had gone. Now I s’pose I’ve got to put in a winter in some filthy -village.” - -Bryant eyed him in mild surprize and asked-- - -“Know their lingo?” - -Knight shook his head impatiently. - -“No sense to their jabber. The leader treats me well. I think he -likes me.” - -Bryant pursed his thin lips and glanced appraisingly at the well-knit -figure of the younger man and decided. - -“You oughter last three days. They’ll manage to keep you alive for -two, anyway.” - -“Keep me alive?” repeated Knight. “But I ain’t sick. Bruised and -scratched--” - -Bryant broke in: - -“Young man, you’n me will be painted black once we git to the Lower -Sandusky village. Better they treat us now, the worse they’ll treat -us when we make the village. I won’t need much killing. But you’re -younger an’ stronger. You’ll be stubborn an’ die hard. I’m nigh to -eighty. Forty-odd year ago they’d had a rare time with me. My pride -would a held me up. Now they won’t git much fun out of my dying.” - -“Merciful heavens!” hoarsely whispered Knight, and he turned to stare -at the leaping, gesticulating figures circling the scalp poles. - -The older man casually explained: - -“Of course I tried to git killed along with Ben an’ Tom. Didn’t have -no luck. Chief there is Cap’n Jimmy, his white name. Red name’s -Little Beaver. If you see the slimmest chance for ducking out, grab -it. Don’t make over your back track. Strike west an’ lose yourself. -If you live to hit the Scioto, travel southwest to the Ohio and -follow it down to Massie’s Station.[1] As a fact you’ll prob’ly be -overhauled mighty sharp an’ sudden. But that’s all right if they -don’t take you alive. That’s the prime p’int I always tried to ding -into our settlers. Never be took alive. Now see me! Trussed up like -this! ’Low I’ll raise the chief’s dander. Sometimes you can git them -mad enough to swing an ax and cheat themselves out of the torture.” - -[Footnote 1: Manchester, Adams County, Ohio.] - -He threw back his head and in the Huron dialect loudly called out: - -“Ho! Ho! They say a chief runs back whipped from a red path. They say -he throws away his warriors like a foolish man. Has a wolf stepped -over his gun and spoiled his medicine? His young men break away and -bring two scalps. Where are the scalps Little Beaver has taken?” - -The chief stared at him ferociously. A man near-by reached forward -and struck him across the mouth. - -Bryant philosophically remarked: - -“Well, it didn’t work that time. Mebbe next time.” - -A man brought water in a kettle and held it up for Knight to drink, -but gave the old man none. The latter mused: - -“Still treating you like a brother. But wait.” - -“I’ll not wait. I’ll try to escape the first time my hands and feet -are untied,” muttered the Virginian. - -Because of their two wounded men and the loot taken from two cabins -on the Sandy the band covered not more than a dozen miles a day. -During the three days they traveled up Symmes Creek Bryant was loaded -with plunder while Knight was compelled to carry nothing. He gladly -would have shouldered the old man’s burden, but the later explained: - -“Best this way. If you git a glimmer of a chance to scoot you’ll need -all your strength. I couldn’t make a race of it if I had half a mile -start. I’ve lived my years an’ I’ve sent a sizable number of them on -ahead of me.” He paused and lifted his head the better to watch two -men busy with something on the opposite side of the small fire. Then -he was whispering, “They’re fixing black paint.” - -“Black paint!” gasped Knight. “You said I’d be painted black.” - -“Not yet. They’ll keep you to show at the village. Got to make some -showing to offset the men he’s lost. The women folks would be mad if -a prisoner wasn’t fetched in. Here they come. Keep a bold face.” - -Two men briskly advanced bearing a bowl taken from some settler’s -cabin. This was filled with a rough paste made from charcoal and -water. The other Wyandots gathered around to witness the ceremony. A -man released Bryant’s legs and jerked him roughly to his feet. - -The old man belligerently demanded: - -“Are you women to be afraid of a man about to talk with ghosts? Untie -my hands. You are young and foolish men. You do not know how to paint -a man who will do you great honor by the way he will die. Are you -afraid?” - -The Indians approved of this sturdy bearing. He was old, just a shell -of a man, but his heart was strong. Little Beaver said: - -“He will die very brave. Let him paint himself.” - -His wrist thongs were unfastened and his hunting-shirt was removed. -He rubbed his hands and arms briskly to stimulate circulation. One -young man stood behind him and the man holding the dish was before -him. With much deliberation he took the fragment of pounded bark, -serving as a brush, and began smearing the mixture over his scrawny -chest. Little Beaver looked on approvingly. - -Wild of gaze, Knight watched the old man calmly decorate himself for -the fire. Bryant slowly drew a spiral and informed the interested -watchers: - -“This is a smoke medicine. It will keep me from choking.” - -Those in the background edged closer, ever keen to learn about new -medicines. Little Beaver grimly suggested-- - -“Let the white man draw a medicine that will keep the fire from -burning.” - -“He will do that after the smoke medicine is finished,” quietly -assured the old man. “Let Little Beaver watch closely and learn about -strong medicines. I heard an owl in the woods telling the ghost of my -grandfather that Little Beaver’s medicine is sick, or asleep.” - -Knight understood nothing of this exchange but felt the drama of it. -The chief was now glaring malevolently and all were watching the -prisoner with the greatest interest. Despite his terrible plight the -younger man found himself likening the curious, expectant Indians to -inquisitive little children. The comparison was grotesque, yet it -persisted. The old man finished the smoke-spiral and held the -dripping bark-brush high and sharply called out: - -“Look! Look! With sharp eyes and see a strong medicine!” - -The gaze of all was lifted to watch the brush, now slowly describing -a small circle. With incredible quickness the thin claw-like hand -shot forward and plucked a skinning-knife from a Wyandot’s belt and -almost with the same movement thrust it deep between the man’s bare -ribs. Simultaneously the brush was smeared across the face of the -next nearest man. It was done and the prisoner was leaping toward the -dusky woods before an Indian could make a move. Then Little Beaver -threw up his gun and fired just as the prisoner was making cover. - -Yelling like wolves, men raced after the fugitive. Knight huskily -exclaimed aloud-- - -“He got clear!” - -The old man had worked most cunningly. He had “got clear”--clear -of the stake and the flaying knives, and never again could he suffer -hurt. Bryant felt nauseated as the chief returned to the fire, -carrying the yellowish white scalp. - - * * * * * - -There was no rejoicing over this trophy. Little Beaver respectfully -placed it on the fire and directed that the dead warrior be hidden in -the ground, or a hollow log, and that the camp be shifted a few -miles. It was not a good place for Wyandot men to tarry in. The white -man’s medicine was about the little opening. It had saved him from -the smoke and the coals, even as he had claimed that it would. He had -died painlessly and had cheated his captors. He was a very wise old -man, and his ghost even now was laughing at them. Around red -camp-fires he would be spoken of with great respect. - -The camp was moved two miles to a creek.[2] The men were gloomy and -dispirited. A strong medicine had worked against success on this -path. Once the men decided Little Beaver’s medicine was responsible -his following would fall off. None sensed this more quickly than the -chief himself. Like his men he was in a gloomy state of mind when he -took to his blankets. With his belt of rawhide around his waist -Knight slept by snatches. Each time he woke up he was overwhelmed by -his awful plight. It was so inexorable; so inescapable. The darkness -was thinning when the first warrior rolled out and threw dry fuel on -the fire. Knight’s appearance plainly revealed his state of mind. -Unlike Bryant he could not make-believe. - -[Footnote 2: Salt Creek, Jackson County.] - -His guards rose and unfastened the thongs running from their waists -to the prisoner’s waist. His feet were untied and he was helped to -stand. The men were courteous, even gentle, but now he knew all this -was deliberately planned to increase his suffering. He held out his -hands for one of the men to unfasten. The Indians had no fear that he -could escape; and did he try his disappointment would be their joy. -One of his guards released the thong and Knight rubbed his hands and -wrists smartly. As he did this he looked for a possible avenue of -escape. - -The Indians’ guns were resting against a pole which was supported by -two crotched sticks. If he attempted to run in that direction he -would find but few between him and the timber, as almost all the men -were around the kettle. But pursuit would be made by the warriors -near the guns, which they could snatch up and use with deadly effect -before he could reach cover. Had it been broad daylight he might have -elected to attempt that course, and to count it success if he was -shot off his feet. He had supposed all hope had left him. Now the -gloomy woods, just beyond the fire, invited him to make it a race. If -he took this direction he must win his way through and around the -bulk of the warriors. But if he reached the growth they either would -pursue him unarmed, or else lose time in running back across the -opening to get guns. - -He thought it out and made his decision inside a few seconds of -deliberation. The very idea of attempting to do something gave him -physical strength. He advanced toward the kettles. Little Beaver -followed and overtook him as he halted as if waiting for his -breakfast. The chief patted him on the shoulder. Knight met the -smoldering gaze and smiled and nodded his head. The Indians averted -their gaze to hide their amusement. The white man was believing them -to be friendly. With a final pat Little Beaver dropped his hand to -his side. Knight’s hard fist, starting from his hip, came up with -terrific force under the chief’s chin and fairly lifted him off his -feet. Then with a leap, and a jump to one side, and a left-handed -smash in the face of a man he could not dodge, he was bursting -through the fringe of bushes and plunging into the gloomy woods. - -The complete surprize of it all dazed the warriors some seconds. Then -they followed their first impulse, to run down and recapture their -man. As they took the woods, whooping and howling, and armed only -with their knives and axes, Knight fought against panic and even -slowed his gait to prevent a collision with the faintly outlined -trees. One of the warriors yelled for the men to secure their guns. -Some ran back to do this. It was too dark for those pressing the -chase to pick up the trail, and quite to his amazement Knight found -himself on the bank of the creek. The infuriated yells and howls -suddenly ceased and Knight at once imagined the foe were all but upon -him. Still he practised enough self-control to slip into the icy -waters of the creek and noiselessly make his way to the opposite -bank. - -He started at right angles from the stream and soon came to a long, -sloping ridge, where there was more light. Up and along the ridge he -ran until it did seem as if his pounding heart would burst. - -For the first time he ventured to look back. He could discover no -signs of pursuit, but he realized he must now sacrifice speed for -cunning. Once the light strengthened, the Indians would pick up his -trail and follow it at a run. He walked on ledges whenever possible. -He took care not to break off twigs and small branches in passing -through bush-dotted openings. He was young and in excellent physical -condition. He was spurred on by the fear of something worse than -death. He kept his back to the sun, and he chased after the sun. Late -in the afternoon he came to a stream he knew must be the Scioto.[3] - -[Footnote 3: Near Piketon, Pike County, Ohio.] - -He did not believe he could lift one foot ahead of the other, but -fear told him he must place the river between him and his enemies. On -the western bank he told himself he had done all that mortal could; -and, flogged on by thoughts of Little Beaver’s terrible rage, he -walked with staggering steps into the sunset. - -With the first light he was continuing his flight and fought pains -and aches for several miles before his legs limbered up. Two hours -after sunrise he killed a squirrel with a rock and ate the scanty -meat raw. Fortunately his mind focused on the fear behind him and he -did not take time to realize he might run into another band of -Indians at any moment. He entered the rugged hills around Sunfish -creek. He was determined to use every hour of light for travel, and -fear served as food and drink in keeping him going. Traveling south, -he crossed Scioto Brush and Turkey Creek; and everything seemed -unreal. Another night and day, and he halted and stared stupidly when -he beheld a broad river, which, he knew, must be the Ohio. He was ten -miles below the mouth of the Scioto. He had no idea of how and when -he had rested, of the meager food of nuts and raw squirrel meat. But -he did know he was gazing on the Ohio and the Kentucky shore beyond. -His problem now was to cross the river although it was very possible -that would mean from pan to fire. He remembered poor Bryant’s advice -to make for Massie’s Station, but he had no idea whether he was above -or below it. Nor did he know how much time had elapsed since he -struck Little Beaver and escaped from the Salt Creek camp. - -He crawled into a thicket of bushes as a befuddling sense of -helplessness swept over him. His clothing consisted of a few rags. -His moccasins were worn out. His feet and limbs and chest were -scratched and torn by the wildness of his flight. As he stared at his -poor feet he discovered he was weeping. He fought down the weakness, -and was startled into lively perception by a slight splashing noise -in the current above his hiding-place. As it sounded at regular -intervals and appeared to be drawing nearer he forced his way closer -to the bank to stare down through the tangled growth. - -He felt as if he were suffocating when he beheld a man in a canoe. -The man was dressed like one of the Long Hunters who lighted the -Kentucky fire. - -“Take me off! Save me!” Knight hysterically called out. - -The canoe swerved in to the bank and out of sight. - -“I’m a white man! Save me!” he repeated. As he received no response -he cried again and again to the same effect. - -“Who are you?” asked a curious voice behind him. - -He turned in frantic haste and beheld the man, his rifle across his -left arm. The man had landed and mounted the bank and gained the rear -of the fugitive’s position without being heard. - - * * * * * - -In a recital that was almost incoherent Knight told his story. The -man relaxed and rested the butt of his rifle on the ground. As Knight -ceased talking the other squatted on his heels and checked off. - -“You’re Virginny. Catched at the Big Sandy station. White man, named -Bryant, was fetched in and got hisself killed. You busted loose. -Injuns chasing you. That right?” - -“Yes, yes. And we must be going. Set me across, will you?” - -“You forgot to say what band of Injuns was it,” prompted the man. - -“Little Beaver and his Wyandots. Cap’n Jimmy, the whites call him. -Poor Bryant told me. Chief has red stripe up and down his back.” - -“That’s Little Beaver. All his men have red stripes till they quit -his band. My name’s Kinsty. I’d like to obleege you. Too much risk. -If Little Beaver is on your trail he’d cross into Kentucky quicker’n -scat to overhaul you.” - -“Good heavens! You’re a white man. You don’t refuse to help me?” -pleaded Knight. - -“I’m just saying I ain’t going to cross to t’other shore and run the -risk of having a Wyandot or Shawnee ax sunk in my head. There’s a -better way. Twenty-five miles down stream, by the Injun path, is -Massie’s Station. It’s a bit longer by water. Know anybody there?” - -“No one. Not a soul.” - -“Makes no difference. They’ll be glad to take you in.” - -“If you won’t go with me then set me on the path. I must get -somewhere that’ll be safe to close my eyes in, and sleep.” - -“I’ll lead you there,” assured Kinsty. - -“Then let’s get into your canoe and start now.” - -Kinsty shook his head. - -“Safer to foller the Injun path. Whose your folks back in Virginny?” - -Knight got to his feet and hurriedly told the names of his people. -Kinsty worked inland and struck into the old trail. As he walked -along in the lead he seemed hungry to be told things and asked many -questions about Knight’s home life, his friends, and the like. Knight -patiently answered the queries, as he had learned this was a -characteristic of isolated people. The first four questions a -traveler would be asked at a frontier cabin would be: “What’s your -name? Where you from? Where you going? What’s your business?” - -Knight talked until weary, and finally complained: - -“Can’t we push forward faster? Seems like we was holding back.” - -“No hurry so long’s we got to make one camp. Can’t do it on a -stretch. Least-ways, you can’t. Won’t do to git tuckered out. You -must be good for a long run if jumped by Injuns. You say you can’t -speak nary a word of red lingo?” - -“Not a word.” - -Kinsty halted and stared at Knight thoughtfully. Then he announced: - -“’Low you’re all right and are the man you say you be. But at the -first I had a sneaking notion you might be Greeby.” - -“The monster who lives with Indians from choice and kills his own -people?” exclaimed Knight in a horrified tone. For the renegade’s -infamous acts had been rehearsed at the Big Sandy station although -the man seldom ventured that far up river. - -“Now I know you’re all right,” chuckled Kinsty. “Only a man who’s all -right could speak in that way. It was your scratched legs and arms -that made me suspicious. Your calling like you did was the first -thing to make me suspicious. Greeby is a master hand for yelling from -the shore for some one to save his pelt by setting him across the -river. Some say he’ll wade out in the water and pray to be took off.” - -“I’m what I look. A poor, helpless man in need of a friend. Why do we -halt? I have many hours of energy left in me if there’s a safe bed at -the end of the journey.” - -“You think so but you’d go kerflummox first thing you know. You got -to have victuals. We can’t git through tonight anyway. We’ll camp -here off the trail and I’ll shoot something and make a soup. With a -full stomach and some sound sleep you’ll go through to Massie’s -mighty fine.” - -“If you think best,” sighed Knight. “How far is it to the station?” - -“Twenty miles,” replied Kinsty. - -“Bout sixteen miles,” corrected a voice from the bushes. - -Kinsty exclaimed under his breath and dropped on one knee and cocked -his rifle. Knight warned: - -“It’s all right. It’s a white voice.” - -“It’s all right after we look him over,” growled Kinsty. “Stranger, -whoever you be, show yourself. Both hands up and empty.” - -A man stepped into the path between the two men, his arms raised, one -holding a long Kentucky rifle. He said: “Here I be. Had to fetch the -old gun along. Think I was red?” - -“I knew you was white. But keep your hands up. Knight, lift up his -hunting-shirt so we can have a peek at his back.” - -Knight stared stupidly. The man good-naturedly requested: “Don’t -waste time. This gun’s gitting heavy.” Then to Kinsty, “Just what you -looking for, mister?” - -“A red stripe up and down your back, Mister,” growled Kinsty. - -The stranger laughed and exclaimed: “Beats all natur’ how every one -you meet you sort of think may be that skunk Greeby. Go ahead, -younker. My name’s Daniels. Been in the bush so long my back ain’t -very clean, mebbe. But you’ll find no red stripe.” - -Knight stepped behind the stranger and pulled up the hunting-shirt. -The back was that of a very muscular man. Daniels, without being -told, slowly turned around, and Kinsty dropped the butt of his gun to -the ground and barked-- - -“All right. But I don’t take no chances with a strange white man this -far down the Ohio, on either the Injun or the Kentucky shore.” - -Daniels chuckled as if it were a good joke. Then he silently surveyed -Knight for a bit and briskly decided: - -“Feller’s half starved. Been running his legs off. Hide barked and -scratched most tarnal. He oughter eat and sleep.” - -“Just what I was telling him,” agreed Kinsty. “He’s most bodacious to -be pushing through to Massie’s Station.” - -“Safe here for the night as he’d be at Massie’s. What with Greeby and -the Girtys and the Shawnees, the station is fair beset.” - -“If they ain’t strongly forted he shouldn’t go there,” said Kinsty. - -“They can stand off the Injuns if white renegades don’t lend a hand -and play some new deviltry. If Gineral Sinclair ’arned a lesson from -Gineral Harmar’s defeat last year we’ll have peace along this river. -If he gits a red ax in the head it’ll keep on being death to any one -planting corn north of this river. And I’m afraid for Sinclair. -Little Turtle and his Miamis are ag’in him as they was ag’in Harmar,” -said Daniels. - -“I don’t think this country will ever be safe for whites,” sighed -Knight. “I feel faint. Wish I could eat and sleep and cross into -Kentucky and make back to Richmond. I’m mortal tired of the border.” - -“Make a fire and I’ll fetch in some small game,” said Daniels. “After -we’ve et and rested we’ll see what fits the young man’s case best.” - -He slipped into the growth and Kinsty scooped a shallow hole one side -of the path and started a small blaze, feeding it with small pieces -of bark until he had a deep bed of coals. Daniels came in with a -turkey and some pigeons. He had knocked them over with his ax. The -meat was quickly put to roasting. - -Knight discovered he was ravenously hungry. He could not wait for the -meat to be cooked through. He snatched a turkey leg and ate like a -wolf. - -“Take your time and don’t wolf it in chunks,” advised Daniels. - -After they had finished and covered the fire-hole with branches and -dirt, with two small apertures for air, Daniels jumped to his feet -and announced he would scout for a bit. Kinsty said nothing until the -stranger had withdrawn; then he leaned forward and whispered-- - -“Wish I knew more ’bout him.” - -Knight shivered at this suggestion that all might not be right with -Daniels. - -“He’s a white man. He didn’t have any red stripe on his back. Could -he be one of the Girtys?” - -“Not Simon. I seen Simon once. May be George. I’m just as skeered of -him as I be of Simon.” - -Knight’s nerves were unstrung. He groaned and complained, “I thought -I’d be all right if I could live to reach the river. Now it looks -worse’n it did when I was knocking Little Beaver off his feet. What -shall we do? I’m fair wore out just from being afraid of what may -happen.” - -Kinsty frowned at the threads of smoke escaping from the fire-hole -vents, and after a while replied: - -“We’ve got to make sure. He may be honest as we be. But till we know -we don’t want him behind us, nor scouting off one side. See here: -only sensible thing for us to do is to take him to Massie’s. If folks -there say he’s all right no harm’s done.” - -Knight sadly exclaimed: - -“Just let me git out of this country! I vow I’ll stay east of the -mountains if I ever get back there.” - -“Few miles more won’t make much difference,” consoled Kinsty. “If we -can s’prize that feller and tie his hands and take him down stream -we’ll soon know if he’s all right.” - -“He seems to be a pleasant sort of man,” said Knight, now speaking -more hopefully. - -Kinsty laughed silently. - -Then he muttered, “Pleasant? Yes, they can be that. A white man who -lives with Injuns from ch’ice can be lots of things. They can wade -into the river, with what looks to be blood on their face and arms, -and beg for a keel-boat to swing in toward the bank and pick ’em up. -No end to the traps they can set. Why, when you first called out I -was sure you was bait for the trap that might snag me. Even when I -see you, your legs’n arms all scratched and torn, I thought you was -fixed up that way to fool me.” - -“That’s why you kept pestering me about my folks and friends?” - -“Zactly. Trying to catch you in a lie, but you rung true. Now, this -is what we must do. I’ll jump this feller and git the drop. You ties -his hands behind him when I give the word. We’ll take him through to -Massie’s. If he’s all right he won’t feel hard for the way we’ve used -him. If he’s a bad one Massie’s men will settle him.” - -The plan repelled Knight, but he could think of nothing better. He -bowed his head in agreement. - -Kinsty stirred uneasily and whispered: - -“We got to have light. He could kill both of us in this darkness. -Light to see to work by.” - -He tore the cover off the fire-hole and threw in dry branches and -piled on dead limbs until he had a companionable blaze which brightly -lighted the small opening where they had camped. In a short time -careless steps sounded in the woods and soon Daniels burst through -into the light and harshly demanded: - -“What be you trying to do? Call down on us all the northwest tribes?” - -“No danger,” replied Kinsty. “Younker was in a bad way along of the -darkness.” - - * * * * * - -Daniels squatted on his heels, his rifle on the ground beside him. On -the opposite side of the fire Kinsty sat cross-legged, his rifle -across his knees. - -Knight held his breath as he discovered the two men were staring at -each other fixedly. He was positive that Daniels had overheard, or -had guessed their plan. - -Kinsty slowly leaned back and commenced swinging the long barrel of -his gun toward the fire. Then with breath-taking quickness the -squatting figure straightened out and was flying through the flames -to land on Kinsty before the latter could straighten out his legs. -Kinsty’s rifle went off, the bullet passing close to Knight’s head -and causing him to cry out wildly. - -“Hit him!” gasped Kinsty. - -Knight moved around the fire, but the interlocked figures were -rolling and twisting so rapidly he had no opportunity to land a blow -without running the risk of hitting the wrong man. He shuddered as he -caught the flash of the firelight on two knife blades. Each man had -drawn his long butcher-knife, and they grunted loudly as they -endeavored to give mortal wounds. They revolved, a blur of arms and -legs, out of the zone of light and crashed into the edge of the -growth. Then sounded a loud groan. - -Knight came out of his stupor and sprang to the rifles and snatched -up Kinsty’s weapon and stood desperately at bay as a figure emerged -from the darkness. - -With gaping mouth he leaned forward to discover which had survived -the terrible duel. The figure entered the light. It was Daniels. - -“You’ve killed him!” yelled Knight. “Put up your hands! Drop that -knife!” - -The man threw the knife to the ground and picked up a burning faggot. -Then he commanded: - -“Follow me and take a peek at your friend, who was so cur’ous to see -my back.” Waving the torch to keep it alive he strode to the edge of -the growth. Knight followed, the rifle cocked. Swinging the torch -down in a half circle the man invited, “Take a look. What d’ye see?” - -The two had torn the clothing almost from each other in their -desperate fight. Kinsty, with his hunting-shirt ripped from hem to -collar, was lying on his face. A red stripe extended the length of -his spine. - -Straightening up the man continued: - -“Knew him the second I see him. But he didn’t know me. He’s one of -Little Beaver’s white Injuns. He’s Greeby.” - -Knight nearly collapsed. - -“Greeby the renegade! Why did he ask about my folks, my home, so many -questions about everything?” he cried. - -“So’s he could pass off for you where your folks was known and you -wa’n’t. Now we’ll pick up a canoe I had hid along here somewheres and -cross to t’other shore.” - -“He was taking me to Massie’s station tomorrow!” - -“He was taking your ha’r back to Little Beaver, leaving you dead -where he cooked your supper. No more talk. Take his gun, powder horn -’n’ knife.” - -“Not the knife,” shuddered Knight. “Can you find your canoe in the -dark?” - -“Why not? It ain’t run away. Come, hurry. This light may fetch a -parcel of Injuns on our backs.” - -“Lord knows I’m grateful, Daniels--” - -“Boone. Dan’l Boone. Didn’t want to give my name to Greeby till I had -a fair chance in a fight. Told him when we was scuffing on the -ground. S’prized him so mightily I got home with the knife.” - - -[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the November 23, 1926 -issue of Adventure magazine.] - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED STRIPES *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Red stripes</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Hugh Pendexter</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 8, 2022 [eBook #68942]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED STRIPES ***</div> - -<h1>Red Stripes</h1> -<div style='text-align:center'>by Hugh Pendexter</div> -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:0.9em;'>Hugh Pendexter’s NEW story of Midwestern Pioneers</div> -<div class='figcenter' style='width:70%; max-width:1429px'> - <img src='images/illus-001.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%;height:auto;' /> -</div> - -<p>From the moment he was made captive near the station on the Big -Sandy, the Virginian began looking for an opportunity to escape. He -was ferociously angry at himself for venturing outside the station -against the advice of the small garrison. Recently arrived from -Richmond, he had presumed to know more about red men than did the -border people. He had insisted the Indians had abandoned the siege -after losing three warriors and having two wounded. And within easy -gunshot of the stockade he had been jumped by the Wyandots and -hustled away. His captors were from the Lower Sandusky village. -Throughout the journey down the Sandy and up the Ohio to the -Guyandotte Crossing he had nursed his resentment against the Indians -and himself. In the back of his mind was the hope he would find an -opportunity to break clear before crossing to the Indian shore. But -the Guyandotte was reached and the Ohio was crossed without a minute -of carelessness on the part of the raiders. At night the Virginian -slept as best he could with a rawhide thong around his waist, from -which lines were attached to the waist of a warrior on each side. In -addition to this precaution his feet and hands were tied. When canoes -were abandoned for forest travel his hands were tied at his back and -he was led along by a length of rawhide around his neck. He fell and -bruised himself. He was hauled through bushes and was scratched by -briers from head to waist. At times the cord tightened, and he was -all but strangled.</p> - -<p>The leader of the Wyandots was a short, thick-set man. Unlike his -followers he wore no paint on his face and his countenance was -agreeable and very intelligent. His only attempt at adornment was the -red stripe following the backbone from the nape of his neck to his -waist. All of his men were similarly painted and in addition were -grotesque and frightful because of the patterns masking their faces. -The raid had been a failure, and the warriors were in an evil mood. -The chief realized that his popularity as a leader would quickly wane -did he encounter one more defeat, yet he treated the prisoner kindly -once a camp was made. In person he saw to it that the Virginian had -water and meat. This consideration led the prisoner to believe that -at the worst he would be held in some red village until he could be -ransomed.</p> - -<p>After he reached the Indian shore several ambitious young men -remained behind and did not rejoin the band until the evening of the -second day. They brought in two scalps and one prisoner. The chief -rejoiced greatly. He would be credited with victory by a slight -margin. The horrid proofs of the tragedy were danced with much -enthusiasm that evening.</p> - -<p>When he found himself by the prisoner the Virginian asked for -details.</p> - -<p>“We was took by surprize while setting traps for beaver and otter,” -the man explained in a monotonous voice. “I’m Abner Bryant. There was -the three of us, Ben an’ Tom Durgin an’ me. Ben ’lowed he could make -a fire-hole in a clump of willers that no Injun could see. Well, both -the Durgins are dead.”</p> - -<p>He was a thin, dried-out wisp of a man whose head was thinly frosted -by a round number of years. He spoke without emotion, as one who is -weary. His acceptance of his capture and the death of his friends -smacked of fatalism. The incident was closed and did not interest -him. However, he was curious enough to inquire—</p> - -<p>“Who might you be?”</p> - -<p>“Harry Knight. A fool. Knew more’n my elders at the station on the -Big Sandy,” was the bitter reply. “We got three of them. Then I had -to go outside the stockade to prove I knew it all and that the Injuns -had gone. Now I s’pose I’ve got to put in a winter in some filthy -village.”</p> - -<p>Bryant eyed him in mild surprize and asked—</p> - -<p>“Know their lingo?”</p> - -<p>Knight shook his head impatiently.</p> - -<p>“No sense to their jabber. The leader treats me well. I think he likes me.”</p> - -<p>Bryant pursed his thin lips and glanced appraisingly at the well-knit -figure of the younger man and decided.</p> - -<p>“You oughter last three days. They’ll manage to keep you alive for -two, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“Keep me alive?” repeated Knight. “But I ain’t sick. Bruised and -scratched—”</p> - -<p>Bryant broke in:</p> - -<p>“Young man, you’n me will be painted black once we git to the Lower -Sandusky village. Better they treat us now, the worse they’ll treat -us when we make the village. I won’t need much killing. But you’re -younger an’ stronger. You’ll be stubborn an’ die hard. I’m nigh to -eighty. Forty-odd year ago they’d had a rare time with me. My pride -would a held me up. Now they won’t git much fun out of my dying.”</p> - -<p>“Merciful heavens!” hoarsely whispered Knight, and he turned to stare -at the leaping, gesticulating figures circling the scalp poles.</p> - -<p>The older man casually explained:</p> - -<p>“Of course I tried to git killed along with Ben an’ Tom. Didn’t have -no luck. Chief there is Cap’n Jimmy, his white name. Red name’s -Little Beaver. If you see the slimmest chance for ducking out, grab -it. Don’t make over your back track. Strike west an’ lose yourself. -If you live to hit the Scioto, travel southwest to the Ohio and -follow it down to Massie’s Station.<a style='text-decoration:none' href='#fn1'><sup>[1]</sup></a> As a fact you’ll prob’ly be -overhauled mighty sharp an’ sudden. But that’s all right if they -don’t take you alive. That’s the prime p’int I always tried to ding -into our settlers. Never be took alive. Now see me! Trussed up like -this! ’Low I’ll raise the chief’s dander. Sometimes you can git them -mad enough to swing an ax and cheat themselves out of the torture.”</p> - -<div id='fn1' style='margin: 0.5em auto;font-size:0.9em;'>[Footnote 1: Manchester, Adams County, Ohio.]</div> - -<p>He threw back his head and in the Huron dialect loudly called out:</p> - -<p>“Ho! Ho! They say a chief runs back whipped from a red path. They say -he throws away his warriors like a foolish man. Has a wolf stepped -over his gun and spoiled his medicine? His young men break away and -bring two scalps. Where are the scalps Little Beaver has taken?”</p> - -<p>The chief stared at him ferociously. A man near-by reached forward -and struck him across the mouth.</p> - -<p>Bryant philosophically remarked:</p> - -<p>“Well, it didn’t work that time. Mebbe next time.”</p> - -<p>A man brought water in a kettle and held it up for Knight to drink, -but gave the old man none. The latter mused:</p> - -<p>“Still treating you like a brother. But wait.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll not wait. I’ll try to escape the first time my hands and feet -are untied,” muttered the Virginian.</p> - -<p>Because of their two wounded men and the loot taken from two cabins -on the Sandy the band covered not more than a dozen miles a day. -During the three days they traveled up Symmes Creek Bryant was loaded -with plunder while Knight was compelled to carry nothing. He gladly -would have shouldered the old man’s burden, but the later explained:</p> - -<p>“Best this way. If you git a glimmer of a chance to scoot you’ll need -all your strength. I couldn’t make a race of it if I had half a mile -start. I’ve lived my years an’ I’ve sent a sizable number of them on -ahead of me.” He paused and lifted his head the better to watch two -men busy with something on the opposite side of the small fire. Then -he was whispering, “They’re fixing black paint.”</p> - -<div class='figcenter' style='width:70%; max-width:1429px'> - <img src='images/illus-002.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%;height:auto;' /> -</div> - -<p>“Black paint!” gasped Knight. “You said I’d be painted black.”</p> - -<p>“Not yet. They’ll keep you to show at the village. Got to make some -showing to offset the men he’s lost. The women folks would be mad if -a prisoner wasn’t fetched in. Here they come. Keep a bold face.”</p> - -<p>Two men briskly advanced bearing a bowl taken from some settler’s -cabin. This was filled with a rough paste made from charcoal and -water. The other Wyandots gathered around to witness the ceremony. A -man released Bryant’s legs and jerked him roughly to his feet.</p> - -<p>The old man belligerently demanded:</p> - -<p>“Are you women to be afraid of a man about to talk with ghosts? Untie -my hands. You are young and foolish men. You do not know how to paint -a man who will do you great honor by the way he will die. Are you -afraid?”</p> - -<p>The Indians approved of this sturdy bearing. He was old, just a shell -of a man, but his heart was strong. Little Beaver said:</p> - -<p>“He will die very brave. Let him paint himself.”</p> - -<p>His wrist thongs were unfastened and his hunting-shirt was removed. -He rubbed his hands and arms briskly to stimulate circulation. One -young man stood behind him and the man holding the dish was before -him. With much deliberation he took the fragment of pounded bark, -serving as a brush, and began smearing the mixture over his scrawny -chest. Little Beaver looked on approvingly.</p> - -<p>Wild of gaze, Knight watched the old man calmly decorate himself for -the fire. Bryant slowly drew a spiral and informed the interested -watchers:</p> - -<p>“This is a smoke medicine. It will keep me from choking.”</p> - -<p>Those in the background edged closer, ever keen to learn about new -medicines. Little Beaver grimly suggested—</p> - -<p>“Let the white man draw a medicine that will keep the fire from -burning.”</p> - -<p>“He will do that after the smoke medicine is finished,” quietly -assured the old man. “Let Little Beaver watch closely and learn about -strong medicines. I heard an owl in the woods telling the ghost of my -grandfather that Little Beaver’s medicine is sick, or asleep.”</p> - -<p>Knight understood nothing of this exchange but felt the drama of it. -The chief was now glaring malevolently and all were watching the -prisoner with the greatest interest. Despite his terrible plight the -younger man found himself likening the curious, expectant Indians to -inquisitive little children. The comparison was grotesque, yet it -persisted. The old man finished the smoke-spiral and held the -dripping bark-brush high and sharply called out:</p> - -<p>“Look! Look! With sharp eyes and see a strong medicine!”</p> - -<p>The gaze of all was lifted to watch the brush, now slowly describing -a small circle. With incredible quickness the thin claw-like hand -shot forward and plucked a skinning-knife from a Wyandot’s belt and -almost with the same movement thrust it deep between the man’s bare -ribs. Simultaneously the brush was smeared across the face of the -next nearest man. It was done and the prisoner was leaping toward the -dusky woods before an Indian could make a move. Then Little Beaver -threw up his gun and fired just as the prisoner was making cover.</p> - -<p>Yelling like wolves, men raced after the fugitive. Knight huskily -exclaimed aloud—</p> - -<p>“He got clear!”</p> - -<p>The old man had worked most cunningly. He had “got clear”—clear of -the stake and the flaying knives, and never again could he suffer -hurt. Bryant felt nauseated as the chief returned to the fire, -carrying the yellowish white scalp.</p> - -<hr style='border:none; color:inherit; margin-top:1em;' /> - -<p>There was no rejoicing over this trophy. Little Beaver respectfully -placed it on the fire and directed that the dead warrior be hidden in -the ground, or a hollow log, and that the camp be shifted a few -miles. It was not a good place for Wyandot men to tarry in. The white -man’s medicine was about the little opening. It had saved him from -the smoke and the coals, even as he had claimed that it would. He had -died painlessly and had cheated his captors. He was a very wise old -man, and his ghost even now was laughing at them. Around red -camp-fires he would be spoken of with great respect.</p> - -<p>The camp was moved two miles to a creek.<a style='text-decoration:none' href='#fn2'><sup>[2]</sup></a> The men were gloomy and -dispirited. A strong medicine had worked against success on this -path. Once the men decided Little Beaver’s medicine was responsible -his following would fall off. None sensed this more quickly than the -chief himself. Like his men he was in a gloomy state of mind when he -took to his blankets. With his belt of rawhide around his waist -Knight slept by snatches. Each time he woke up he was overwhelmed by -his awful plight. It was so inexorable; so inescapable. The darkness -was thinning when the first warrior rolled out and threw dry fuel on -the fire. Knight’s appearance plainly revealed his state of mind. -Unlike Bryant he could not make-believe.</p> - -<div id='fn2' style='margin: 0.5em auto;font-size:0.9em;'>[Footnote 2: Salt Creek, Jackson County.]</div> - -<p>His guards rose and unfastened the thongs running from their waists -to the prisoner’s waist. His feet were untied and he was helped to -stand. The men were courteous, even gentle, but now he knew all this -was deliberately planned to increase his suffering. He held out his -hands for one of the men to unfasten. The Indians had no fear that he -could escape; and did he try his disappointment would be their joy. -One of his guards released the thong and Knight rubbed his hands and -wrists smartly. As he did this he looked for a possible avenue of -escape.</p> - -<p>The Indians’ guns were resting against a pole which was supported by -two crotched sticks. If he attempted to run in that direction he -would find but few between him and the timber, as almost all the men -were around the kettle. But pursuit would be made by the warriors -near the guns, which they could snatch up and use with deadly effect -before he could reach cover. Had it been broad daylight he might have -elected to attempt that course, and to count it success if he was -shot off his feet. He had supposed all hope had left him. Now the -gloomy woods, just beyond the fire, invited him to make it a race. If -he took this direction he must win his way through and around the -bulk of the warriors. But if he reached the growth they either would -pursue him unarmed, or else lose time in running back across the -opening to get guns.</p> - -<p>He thought it out and made his decision inside a few seconds of -deliberation. The very idea of attempting to do something gave him -physical strength. He advanced toward the kettles. Little Beaver -followed and overtook him as he halted as if waiting for his -breakfast. The chief patted him on the shoulder. Knight met the -smoldering gaze and smiled and nodded his head. The Indians averted -their gaze to hide their amusement. The white man was believing them -to be friendly. With a final pat Little Beaver dropped his hand to -his side. Knight’s hard fist, starting from his hip, came up with -terrific force under the chief’s chin and fairly lifted him off his -feet. Then with a leap, and a jump to one side, and a left-handed -smash in the face of a man he could not dodge, he was bursting -through the fringe of bushes and plunging into the gloomy woods.</p> - -<p>The complete surprize of it all dazed the warriors some seconds. Then -they followed their first impulse, to run down and recapture their -man. As they took the woods, whooping and howling, and armed only -with their knives and axes, Knight fought against panic and even -slowed his gait to prevent a collision with the faintly outlined -trees. One of the warriors yelled for the men to secure their guns. -Some ran back to do this. It was too dark for those pressing the -chase to pick up the trail, and quite to his amazement Knight found -himself on the bank of the creek. The infuriated yells and howls -suddenly ceased and Knight at once imagined the foe were all but upon -him. Still he practised enough self-control to slip into the icy -waters of the creek and noiselessly make his way to the opposite -bank.</p> - -<p>He started at right angles from the stream and soon came to a long, -sloping ridge, where there was more light. Up and along the ridge he -ran until it did seem as if his pounding heart would burst.</p> - -<p>For the first time he ventured to look back. He could discover no -signs of pursuit, but he realized he must now sacrifice speed for -cunning. Once the light strengthened, the Indians would pick up his -trail and follow it at a run. He walked on ledges whenever possible. -He took care not to break off twigs and small branches in passing -through bush-dotted openings. He was young and in excellent physical -condition. He was spurred on by the fear of something worse than -death. He kept his back to the sun, and he chased after the sun. Late -in the afternoon he came to a stream he knew must be the Scioto.<a style='text-decoration:none' href='#fn3'><sup>[3]</sup></a></p> - -<div id='fn3' style='margin: 0.5em auto;font-size:0.9em;'>[Footnote 3: Near Piketon, Pike County, Ohio.]</div> - -<p>He did not believe he could lift one foot ahead of the other, but -fear told him he must place the river between him and his enemies. On -the western bank he told himself he had done all that mortal could; -and, flogged on by thoughts of Little Beaver’s terrible rage, he -walked with staggering steps into the sunset.</p> - -<p>With the first light he was continuing his flight and fought pains -and aches for several miles before his legs limbered up. Two hours -after sunrise he killed a squirrel with a rock and ate the scanty -meat raw. Fortunately his mind focused on the fear behind him and he -did not take time to realize he might run into another band of -Indians at any moment. He entered the rugged hills around Sunfish -creek. He was determined to use every hour of light for travel, and -fear served as food and drink in keeping him going. Traveling south, -he crossed Scioto Brush and Turkey Creek; and everything seemed -unreal. Another night and day, and he halted and stared stupidly when -he beheld a broad river, which, he knew, must be the Ohio. He was ten -miles below the mouth of the Scioto. He had no idea of how and when -he had rested, of the meager food of nuts and raw squirrel meat. But -he did know he was gazing on the Ohio and the Kentucky shore beyond. -His problem now was to cross the river although it was very possible -that would mean from pan to fire. He remembered poor Bryant’s advice -to make for Massie’s Station, but he had no idea whether he was above -or below it. Nor did he know how much time had elapsed since he -struck Little Beaver and escaped from the Salt Creek camp.</p> - -<p>He crawled into a thicket of bushes as a befuddling sense of -helplessness swept over him. His clothing consisted of a few rags. -His moccasins were worn out. His feet and limbs and chest were -scratched and torn by the wildness of his flight. As he stared at his -poor feet he discovered he was weeping. He fought down the weakness, -and was startled into lively perception by a slight splashing noise -in the current above his hiding-place. As it sounded at regular -intervals and appeared to be drawing nearer he forced his way closer -to the bank to stare down through the tangled growth.</p> - -<p>He felt as if he were suffocating when he beheld a man in a canoe. -The man was dressed like one of the Long Hunters who lighted the -Kentucky fire.</p> - -<p>“Take me off! Save me!” Knight hysterically called out.</p> - -<p>The canoe swerved in to the bank and out of sight.</p> - -<p>“I’m a white man! Save me!” he repeated. As he received no response -he cried again and again to the same effect.</p> - -<p>“Who are you?” asked a curious voice behind him.</p> - -<p>He turned in frantic haste and beheld the man, his rifle across his -left arm. The man had landed and mounted the bank and gained the rear -of the fugitive’s position without being heard.</p> - -<hr style='border:none; color:inherit; margin-top:1em;' /> - -<p>In a recital that was almost incoherent Knight told his story. The -man relaxed and rested the butt of his rifle on the ground. As Knight -ceased talking the other squatted on his heels and checked off.</p> - -<p>“You’re Virginny. Catched at the Big Sandy station. White man, named -Bryant, was fetched in and got hisself killed. You busted loose. -Injuns chasing you. That right?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes. And we must be going. Set me across, will you?”</p> - -<p>“You forgot to say what band of Injuns was it,” prompted the man.</p> - -<p>“Little Beaver and his Wyandots. Cap’n Jimmy, the whites call him. -Poor Bryant told me. Chief has red stripe up and down his back.”</p> - -<p>“That’s Little Beaver. All his men have red stripes till they quit -his band. My name’s Kinsty. I’d like to obleege you. Too much risk. -If Little Beaver is on your trail he’d cross into Kentucky quicker’n -scat to overhaul you.”</p> - -<p>“Good heavens! You’re a white man. You don’t refuse to help me?” -pleaded Knight.</p> - -<p>“I’m just saying I ain’t going to cross to t’other shore and run the -risk of having a Wyandot or Shawnee ax sunk in my head. There’s a -better way. Twenty-five miles down stream, by the Injun path, is -Massie’s Station. It’s a bit longer by water. Know anybody there?”</p> - -<p>“No one. Not a soul.”</p> - -<p>“Makes no difference. They’ll be glad to take you in.”</p> - -<p>“If you won’t go with me then set me on the path. I must get -somewhere that’ll be safe to close my eyes in, and sleep.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll lead you there,” assured Kinsty.</p> - -<p>“Then let’s get into your canoe and start now.”</p> - -<p>Kinsty shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Safer to foller the Injun path. Whose your folks back in Virginny?”</p> - -<p>Knight got to his feet and hurriedly told the names of his people. -Kinsty worked inland and struck into the old trail. As he walked -along in the lead he seemed hungry to be told things and asked many -questions about Knight’s home life, his friends, and the like. Knight -patiently answered the queries, as he had learned this was a -characteristic of isolated people. The first four questions a -traveler would be asked at a frontier cabin would be: “What’s your -name? Where you from? Where you going? What’s your business?”</p> - -<p>Knight talked until weary, and finally complained:</p> - -<p>“Can’t we push forward faster? Seems like we was holding back.”</p> - -<p>“No hurry so long’s we got to make one camp. Can’t do it on a -stretch. Least-ways, you can’t. Won’t do to git tuckered out. You -must be good for a long run if jumped by Injuns. You say you can’t -speak nary a word of red lingo?”</p> - -<p>“Not a word.”</p> - -<p>Kinsty halted and stared at Knight thoughtfully. Then he announced:</p> - -<p>“’Low you’re all right and are the man you say you be. But at the -first I had a sneaking notion you might be Greeby.”</p> - -<p>“The monster who lives with Indians from choice and kills his own -people?” exclaimed Knight in a horrified tone. For the renegade’s -infamous acts had been rehearsed at the Big Sandy station although -the man seldom ventured that far up river.</p> - -<p>“Now I know you’re all right,” chuckled Kinsty. “Only a man who’s -all right could speak in that way. It was your scratched legs and -arms that made me suspicious. Your calling like you did was the first -thing to make me suspicious. Greeby is a master hand for yelling from -the shore for some one to save his pelt by setting him across the -river. Some say he’ll wade out in the water and pray to be took off.”</p> - -<p>“I’m what I look. A poor, helpless man in need of a friend. Why do we -halt? I have many hours of energy left in me if there’s a safe bed at -the end of the journey.”</p> - -<p>“You think so but you’d go kerflummox first thing you know. You got -to have victuals. We can’t git through tonight anyway. We’ll camp -here off the trail and I’ll shoot something and make a soup. With a -full stomach and some sound sleep you’ll go through to Massie’s -mighty fine.”</p> - -<p>“If you think best,” sighed Knight. “How far is it to the station?”</p> - -<p>“Twenty miles,” replied Kinsty.</p> - -<p>“Bout sixteen miles,” corrected a voice from the bushes.</p> - -<p>Kinsty exclaimed under his breath and dropped on one knee and cocked -his rifle. Knight warned:</p> - -<p>“It’s all right. It’s a white voice.”</p> - -<p>“It’s all right after we look him over,” growled Kinsty. “Stranger, -whoever you be, show yourself. Both hands up and empty.”</p> - -<p>A man stepped into the path between the two men, his arms raised, one -holding a long Kentucky rifle. He said: “Here I be. Had to fetch the -old gun along. Think I was red?”</p> - -<p>“I knew you was white. But keep your hands up. Knight, lift up his -hunting-shirt so we can have a peek at his back.”</p> - -<p>Knight stared stupidly. The man good-naturedly requested: “Don’t -waste time. This gun’s gitting heavy.” Then to Kinsty, “Just what you -looking for, mister?”</p> - -<p>“A red stripe up and down your back, Mister,” growled Kinsty.</p> - -<p>The stranger laughed and exclaimed: “Beats all natur’ how every one -you meet you sort of think may be that skunk Greeby. Go ahead, -younker. My name’s Daniels. Been in the bush so long my back ain’t -very clean, mebbe. But you’ll find no red stripe.”</p> - -<p>Knight stepped behind the stranger and pulled up the hunting-shirt. -The back was that of a very muscular man. Daniels, without being -told, slowly turned around, and Kinsty dropped the butt of his gun to -the ground and barked—</p> - -<p>“All right. But I don’t take no chances with a strange white man this -far down the Ohio, on either the Injun or the Kentucky shore.”</p> - -<p>Daniels chuckled as if it were a good joke. Then he silently surveyed -Knight for a bit and briskly decided:</p> - -<p>“Feller’s half starved. Been running his legs off. Hide barked and -scratched most tarnal. He oughter eat and sleep.”</p> - -<p>“Just what I was telling him,” agreed Kinsty. “He’s most bodacious to -be pushing through to Massie’s Station.”</p> - -<p>“Safe here for the night as he’d be at Massie’s. What with Greeby and -the Girtys and the Shawnees, the station is fair beset.”</p> - -<p>“If they ain’t strongly forted he shouldn’t go there,” said Kinsty.</p> - -<p>“They can stand off the Injuns if white renegades don’t lend a hand -and play some new deviltry. If Gineral Sinclair ’arned a lesson from -Gineral Harmar’s defeat last year we’ll have peace along this river. -If he gits a red ax in the head it’ll keep on being death to any one -planting corn north of this river. And I’m afraid for Sinclair. -Little Turtle and his Miamis are ag’in him as they was ag’in Harmar,” -said Daniels.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think this country will ever be safe for whites,” sighed -Knight. “I feel faint. Wish I could eat and sleep and cross into -Kentucky and make back to Richmond. I’m mortal tired of the border.”</p> - -<p>“Make a fire and I’ll fetch in some small game,” said Daniels. “After -we’ve et and rested we’ll see what fits the young man’s case best.”</p> - -<p>He slipped into the growth and Kinsty scooped a shallow hole one side -of the path and started a small blaze, feeding it with small pieces -of bark until he had a deep bed of coals. Daniels came in with a -turkey and some pigeons. He had knocked them over with his ax. The -meat was quickly put to roasting.</p> - -<p>Knight discovered he was ravenously hungry. He could not wait for the -meat to be cooked through. He snatched a turkey leg and ate like a -wolf.</p> - -<p>“Take your time and don’t wolf it in chunks,” advised Daniels.</p> - -<p>After they had finished and covered the fire-hole with branches and -dirt, with two small apertures for air, Daniels jumped to his feet -and announced he would scout for a bit. Kinsty said nothing until the -stranger had withdrawn; then he leaned forward and whispered—</p> - -<p>“Wish I knew more ’bout him.”</p> - -<p>Knight shivered at this suggestion that all might not be right with Daniels.</p> - -<p>“He’s a white man. He didn’t have any red stripe on his back. Could -he be one of the Girtys?”</p> - -<p>“Not Simon. I seen Simon once. May be George. I’m just as skeered of -him as I be of Simon.”</p> - -<p>Knight’s nerves were unstrung. He groaned and complained, “I thought -I’d be all right if I could live to reach the river. Now it looks -worse’n it did when I was knocking Little Beaver off his feet. What -shall we do? I’m fair wore out just from being afraid of what may -happen.”</p> - -<p>Kinsty frowned at the threads of smoke escaping from the fire-hole -vents, and after a while replied:</p> - -<p>“We’ve got to make sure. He may be honest as we be. But till we know -we don’t want him behind us, nor scouting off one side. See here: -only sensible thing for us to do is to take him to Massie’s. If folks -there say he’s all right no harm’s done.”</p> - -<p>Knight sadly exclaimed:</p> - -<p>“Just let me git out of this country! I vow I’ll stay east of the -mountains if I ever get back there.”</p> - -<p>“Few miles more won’t make much difference,” consoled Kinsty. “If we -can s’prize that feller and tie his hands and take him down stream -we’ll soon know if he’s all right.”</p> - -<p>“He seems to be a pleasant sort of man,” said Knight, now speaking -more hopefully.</p> - -<p>Kinsty laughed silently.</p> - -<p>Then he muttered, “Pleasant? Yes, they can be that. A white man who -lives with Injuns from ch’ice can be lots of things. They can wade -into the river, with what looks to be blood on their face and arms, -and beg for a keel-boat to swing in toward the bank and pick ’em up. -No end to the traps they can set. Why, when you first called out I -was sure you was bait for the trap that might snag me. Even when I -see you, your legs’n arms all scratched and torn, I thought you was -fixed up that way to fool me.”</p> - -<p>“That’s why you kept pestering me about my folks and friends?”</p> - -<p>“Zactly. Trying to catch you in a lie, but you rung true. Now, this -is what we must do. I’ll jump this feller and git the drop. You ties -his hands behind him when I give the word. We’ll take him through to -Massie’s. If he’s all right he won’t feel hard for the way we’ve used -him. If he’s a bad one Massie’s men will settle him.”</p> - -<p>The plan repelled Knight, but he could think of nothing better. He -bowed his head in agreement.</p> - -<p>Kinsty stirred uneasily and whispered:</p> - -<p>“We got to have light. He could kill both of us in this darkness. -Light to see to work by.”</p> - -<p>He tore the cover off the fire-hole and threw in dry branches and -piled on dead limbs until he had a companionable blaze which brightly -lighted the small opening where they had camped. In a short time -careless steps sounded in the woods and soon Daniels burst through -into the light and harshly demanded:</p> - -<p>“What be you trying to do? Call down on us all the northwest tribes?”</p> - -<p>“No danger,” replied Kinsty. “Younker was in a bad way along of the -darkness.”</p> - -<hr style='border:none; color:inherit; margin-top:1em;' /> - -<p>Daniels squatted on his heels, his rifle on the ground beside him. On -the opposite side of the fire Kinsty sat cross-legged, his rifle -across his knees.</p> - -<p>Knight held his breath as he discovered the two men were staring at -each other fixedly. He was positive that Daniels had overheard, or -had guessed their plan.</p> - -<p>Kinsty slowly leaned back and commenced swinging the long barrel of -his gun toward the fire. Then with breath-taking quickness the -squatting figure straightened out and was flying through the flames -to land on Kinsty before the latter could straighten out his legs. -Kinsty’s rifle went off, the bullet passing close to Knight’s head -and causing him to cry out wildly.</p> - -<p>“Hit him!” gasped Kinsty.</p> - -<p>Knight moved around the fire, but the interlocked figures were -rolling and twisting so rapidly he had no opportunity to land a blow -without running the risk of hitting the wrong man. He shuddered as he -caught the flash of the firelight on two knife blades. Each man had -drawn his long butcher-knife, and they grunted loudly as they -endeavored to give mortal wounds. They revolved, a blur of arms and -legs, out of the zone of light and crashed into the edge of the -growth. Then sounded a loud groan.</p> - -<p>Knight came out of his stupor and sprang to the rifles and snatched -up Kinsty’s weapon and stood desperately at bay as a figure emerged -from the darkness.</p> - -<p>With gaping mouth he leaned forward to discover which had survived the -terrible duel. The figure entered the light. It was Daniels.</p> - -<p>“You’ve killed him!” yelled Knight. “Put up your hands! Drop that knife!”</p> - -<p>The man threw the knife to the ground and picked up a burning faggot. -Then he commanded:</p> - -<p>“Follow me and take a peek at your friend, who was so cur’ous to see -my back.” Waving the torch to keep it alive he strode to the edge of -the growth. Knight followed, the rifle cocked. Swinging the torch -down in a half circle the man invited, “Take a look. What d’ye see?”</p> - -<p>The two had torn the clothing almost from each other in their -desperate fight. Kinsty, with his hunting-shirt ripped from hem to -collar, was lying on his face. A red stripe extended the length of -his spine.</p> - -<p>Straightening up the man continued:</p> - -<p>“Knew him the second I see him. But he didn’t know me. He’s one of -Little Beaver’s white Injuns. He’s Greeby.”</p> - -<p>Knight nearly collapsed.</p> - -<p>“Greeby the renegade! Why did he ask about my folks, my home, so many -questions about everything?” he cried.</p> - -<p>“So’s he could pass off for you where your folks was known and you -wa’n’t. Now we’ll pick up a canoe I had hid along here somewheres and -cross to t’other shore.”</p> - -<p>“He was taking me to Massie’s station tomorrow!”</p> - -<p>“He was taking your ha’r back to Little Beaver, leaving you dead -where he cooked your supper. No more talk. Take his gun, powder horn -’n’ knife.”</p> - -<p>“Not the knife,” shuddered Knight. “Can you find your canoe in the -dark?”</p> - -<p>“Why not? It ain’t run away. Come, hurry. This light may fetch a -parcel of Injuns on our backs.”</p> - -<p>“Lord knows I’m grateful, Daniels—”</p> - -<p>“Boone. Dan’l Boone. Didn’t want to give my name to Greeby till I had -a fair chance in a fight. Told him when we was scuffing on the -ground. S’prized him so mightily I got home with the knife.”</p> - -<div class="tn"> - <p>Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in - the November 23, 1926 issue of <em>Adventure</em> magazine.</p> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RED STRIPES ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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