“You no afraid?” he inquired.
“Afraid!” repeated Mark. “Scarcely. What’s the use of being afraid until you see something to be afraid of? I feel grateful to you, Jim, for the interest you seem to take in my welfare, and I assure you that I shall always remember it. But you know you challenged me to wrestle with you last night. Come on now; I am ready for you.”
But Jim was not ready for Mark. The latter had given evidence that he was blessed with a goodly share of courage; and the Indian, believing, no doubt, that he possessed strength and activity in the same proportion, thought it best to keep out of his reach. He retreated toward the fence, crying out, “No, no; no, no, white boy!” at the same time waving Mark back with his open hands.
“Well, then, if you don’t want to wrestle, perhaps you will be good enough to carry a message from me to your friends,” said Mark. “Tell them that if they will take my advice they will leave this plantation with as little delay as possible. I shall ride through those woods with my hounds about sundown, and—pay strict attention to what I say now, Jim—if I catch a redskin in that camp, I’ll—I’ll—”
Mark finished the sentence by drawing his head down between his shoulders, opening his eyes to their widest extent, spreading out his fingers like the claws of some wild animal, and assuming a most ferocious expression of countenance, which made Jim retreat a step or two as if afraid that Mark was about to jump at him.
I am not certain that Mark could have told exactly what he meant by this pantomime, and neither am I prepared to say how Jim interpreted it; but I do know that he started for the camp with all possible speed, while Mark, highly excited, went back to the house to relate his adventure to mother.
That evening, about an hour before sunset, we returned from our deer hunt, and were not a little surprised to find the camp deserted. Not an Indian was to be seen. The warriors, squaws, pappooses, dogs and all had left for parts unknown. Father laughed when mother told him what had happened during our absence; but I could see by the expression in his eye that one Indian, at least, did a very wise thing when he took Mark’s advice and left the plantation.
I have since learned enough about these people to know that Mark showed himself a hero on that day. If he had taken to his heels the Indians would have pursued him, and there was no knowing what they might have done in their blind rage. His bold front cooled their ardor, and perhaps saved somebody’s life.
Although the savages had left the plantation, we were not yet done with them. A few nights afterward our cotton gin was set on fire, and the moccasin tracks in the mud showed who did it. We had a lively time hunting up the incendiaries, and I came in for some adventures, the like of which I had never known before.