“Near Spirit Lake.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I heard this morning that the Sioux are quite insolent towards the settlers in that vicinity, and threaten an outbreak. I must see your father, and dissuade him from his project;” and the minister proceeded to the cabin occupied by the Joneses.
It was near Spirit Lake that Mr. Jones was wounded by the Indian. This, however, did not deter him from going there again to hunt. Three promising young settlements had sprung up there, side by side, for the beauty, fertility, and cheapness of the land had attracted quite an immigration that way. Mr. Jones had mingled much with the settlers,–for an entirely new country had special charms for him,–and his knowledge of all matters most needful to the pioneer made him a welcome acquaintance. He had become a 191 great favorite with the inhabitants. The Indians were numerous and bold, but entertained a wholesome dread of the squatter’s rifle and personal courage; and the whites, although they did not anticipate serious trouble with the savages, felt so much safer when he was with them, that they offered him a comfortable cabin, and promised other advantages if he would dwell among them. Among the Indians Mr. Jones went by the name of Long Rifle, and they expressed great admiration of his marksmanship. Occasions not unfrequently happened for him to show his superior qualities in that line. For example, the squatter happened in one day at a cabin, and found some half dozen Indians there, who had busied themselves, in the absence of the men, in rummaging the house for plunder, greatly to the terror of the women and children. As Mr. Jones appeared, they seated themselves with Indian gravity, refusing to answer a word, while their faces wore an angry and sullen look. Among these were some famous for their skill with the rifle, and, knowing their passion for target-shooting, he proposed at once a trial of skill. This was eagerly accepted; but the squatter triumphed in the contest, and the Indians went away much impressed with the result.
When Mr. Jones returned to his family, and mentioned his decision to remove, the mother 192 heard his account with a foreboding heart, but made no objection, only saying,–
“We mustn’t take Tom away from his studies.”
To this the father assented, for he really felt grateful to the missionary for the interest he took in his son, and proud of the progress the lad was making in his books.
“Tom,” said he, “has a good chance, and it isn’t in me to discourage him.”
It was, however, more difficult to persuade Tom to remain behind, than for his parents to give him up,–hard as it was for them. He had so long been the staff of his mother, that it seemed like selfish desertion for him to stay with the missionary, while she went farther off on the frontier.
“It is your duty to remain, Tom,” urged the mother. “God has opened the way for you to cultivate your mind, and fit yourself for usefulness; and we shall not be so far away but that you can come to us at any time, if we need you.”
“And are you not afraid to go where there are so many Indians?” asked Tom.