Thus there was an addition of twenty-one souls to the population of Mr Campbell’s settlement, which with their own ten made a total of thirty-one people, out of whom they reckoned that thirteen were capable of bearing arms, and defending them from any attack of the Indians.
Before harvest time, the cottages were all built, and the emigrants were busy felling round their new habitations, to lay up firewood for the winter, and clearing away a spot for a garden, and for planting potatoes in the following spring. The harvest being ripe again, gave them all full employment; the corn was got in with great expedition by the united labour of the soldiers and emigrants, when the former, having completed their work, returned to the fort, and the Campbells, with the addition to their colony, were now left alone. Visiting the emigrants in their own cottages, and making acquaintance with the children, was now a great source of amusement to the Misses Percival. Various plans were started relative to establishing a Sunday-school, and many other useful arrangements; one, however, took place immediately, which was, that divine service was performed by Mr Campbell in his own house, and was attended by all the emigrants every Sunday. Mr Campbell had every reason to be pleased with their conduct up to the present time; they all appeared willing, never murmured or complained at any task allotted to them, and were satisfied with Mr Campbell’s arrangements relative to supplies. Parties were now again formed for the chase; Meredith and young Graves proved to be good woodsmen and capital shots with the rifle, so that now they had enough to send out a party on alternate days, while one or two of the others fished all the day and salted down as fast as they caught, that there might be a full supply for the winter.
But although Mr and Mrs Campbell and the Misses Percival, as well as the major part of the family were fully satisfied and happy in their future prospects, there were four who were in a state of great anxiety and suspense. These were Alfred, Malachi, Martin, and the Strawberry, who, being acquainted with the existence of young Percival, found their secret a source of great annoyance, now that, notwithstanding the capture and detention of the Young Otter, no advance appeared to be made for his exchange, nor any signs of an overture on the part of the Angry Snake. Captain Sinclair, who was usually at the farm twice during the week, was also much fretted at finding that every time Malachi and Alfred had no more information to give him, than he had to impart to them. They hardly knew how to act; to let a second winter pass away without attempting to recover the boy, appeared to them to be delaying too long, and yet to communicate intelligence which might only end in bitter disappointment, seemed unadvisable; for the Indian chief, out of revenge, might have killed the boy, and then the grief of the father and mother would be more intense than before. It would be opening a wound to no purpose. This question was frequently canvassed by Alfred and Captain Sinclair, but an end was put to all their debates on the subject by an unexpected occurrence. Mary Percival had one morning gone down to a place called the Cedar Swamp, about half a mile from the house to the westward, near to the shore of the lake, to pick cranberries for preserving. One of the little emigrant girls, Martha Jackson, was with her; when one basket was full, Mary sent it home by the little girl, with directions to come back immediately. The girl did so, but on her return to the Cedar Swamp, Mary Percival was not to be seen. The basket which she had retained with her was lying with all the cranberries upset out of it on a hill by the side of the swamp. The little girl remained for a quarter of an hour, calling out Miss Percival’s name, but not receiving any answer, she became frightened, imagining that some wild beast had attacked her; and she ran back as fast as she could to the house, acquainting Mr and Mrs Campbell with what had happened. Martin and Alfred were at the mill; Malachi, fortunately, was at his own lodge, and the Strawberry ran for him, told him what the girl had reported, and having done so, she looked at Malachi, and said “Angry Snake.”
“Yes, Strawberry, that is the case, I have no doubt,” replied Malachi; “but not a word at present; I knew he would be at something, but I did not think that he dared do that either; however, we shall see. Go back to the house and tell master and missis that I have gone down to the Cedar Swamp, and will return as soon as possible, and do you follow me as fast as you can, for your eyes are younger than mine, and I shall want the use of them. Tell them not to send anybody else—it will do harm instead of good—for they will trample the ground, and we may lose the track.”
Malachi caught up his rifle, examined the priming, and set off in the direction of the swamp, while the Strawberry returned to the house to give his message to Mr and Mrs Campbell. Leaving Mr and Mrs Campbell, who were in a state of great alarm, and had sent the little girl, Martha Jackson, to summon Alfred and Martin (for John and Henry were out in the woods after the cattle), the Strawberry went down to the Cedar Swamp to join Malachi, whom she found standing, leaning on his rifle, near the basket which had contained the cranberries.
“Now, Strawberry, we must find out how many there were, and which way they have gone,” said Malachi, in the Indian tongue.
“Here,” said Strawberry, pointing to a mark on the short grass, which never could have attracted the observation of one unused to an Indian life.
“I see, child; I see that and two more, but we cannot tell much as yet; let us follow up the trail till we come to some spot where we may read the print better. That’s her foot,” continued Malachi, after they had proceeded two or three yards. “The sole of a shoe cuts the grass sharper than a mocassin. We have no easy task just now, and if the others come they may prevent us from finding the track altogether.”
“Here, again,” said Strawberry, stooping close to the short dry grass.
“Yes, you’re right, child,” replied Malachi. “Let us once follow it to the bottom of this hill, and then we shall do better.”