Why the recoil of the pieces did not sink the old pettiaugre with all on board, to their imminent danger of drowning in the tumultuous depths of the spring floods, Captain Howard could never understand, except on the principle that “Naught is never in danger,” as he said bluffly, now that his anxiety was satisfied. The heavy rainfall and the melting of the snows had swollen the watercourses of the region to such a degree that they had risen out of their deep, rock-bound channels, and this enabled Raymond to secure water-carriage for the guns the greater part of the return journey. He had some hardships to relate of a long portage across country when the pack animals which had carried his supplies and ammunition had been utilized as artillery horses, and had drawn the guns along such devious ways as the buffalo paths from one salt spring to another might furnish. Then they had embarked on the Keowee, and had come down with a rushing current, firing a salute to Fort Prince George as they approached, eliciting much responsive cheering from the garrison, and creating more commotion than they were worth, the commandant gruffly opined.
He hearkened with a doubtful mien to the ensign’s report of the vicissitudes of the expedition, and was obviously of the opinion that the whole mission could have been as well accomplished in a less melodramatic and turbulent manner.
“I knew,” he said, “that the official demand for the guns would anger the chiefs, for they have long craved the possession of a few pieces of artillery, and nothing in their hands could be so dangerous to the security of the colonies. But I was sure that being in Choté, you were safe, and that if you should find it necessary to seize the guns they would protect you against all odds on your march back to Fort Prince George. I did not imagine the chiefs would venture so far as to conceal the cannon, and of course that gave you a point of great difficulty. But the feint of firing on the town was altogether unnecessary. There was no occasion for incivility.”
“Stop me, sir, if it had not been for their lies and conjuring tricks I should have been as polite as pie.”
Captain Howard listened with an impartial reservation of opinion to the detail of the magic red light, but his face changed as Raymond took from his pocket a gem-like stone, large, translucent, darkly red, and caught upon it an intense reflection from the dull fire in the commandant’s office.
“This must be their famous ‘conjuring-stone,’” he said gravely.
“The fellow dropped it when I knocked him down,” Raymond explained, graphically. “I lost my balance, and we rolled on the ground together, and as I pulled loose I found this in my hand.”
Early travellers in this region describe this “conjuring-stone” of the Cherokees as the size of a hen’s egg, red and of a crystalline effect, like a ruby, but with a beautiful dark shade in the centre, and capable of an intense reflection of light.
The next day Captain Howard received from the Indians the strange complaint that the British ensign had their “religion,” with a demand that he be required to return it. They stated that they had searched all their country for the sacred amulet, and they were convinced that he had possessed himself of it. They were robbed of their “religion.”
“This is idolatry,” exclaimed the old missionary, rancorously, vehement objection eloquent on his face.