“I’ll keep going all night; no rest for me now,” he told himself, and yet what he meant to do or what he supposed Ree would be able to do concerning the matter uppermost in his mind, he would not have been able to say.
Night came on. Poor Jerome had eaten nothing since morning and his fatigue was great. His mind was calmer now, and he felt the uselessness of going on without rest or food. Beside a great log where the wind had drifted the freshly fallen leaves he sat down, therefore, and ate the little meat he had remaining. It was rather comfortable here, he thought—almost any resting place would seem so after such a day as he had had—and he wrapped his blanket about him and lay down. The next day he would be back to the rocky ledges and the friendly hollow poplar again. By Monday morning, if not before, he would see Kingdom, that is, if nothing had befallen him. After what he had seen at the “lick” he would not be surprised to hear of more dreadful things.
How greatly both he and Ree had trusted the Indians, he reflected. Now if he could but find Kingdom safe and sound, and they both could get away to Fort Pitt or any place of safety, he would ask nothing more. But no, on second thought, he would ask yet one thing. It would be the privilege of joining Gen. Wayne’s army and taking up arms against the savages in any campaign the white military would conduct.
And so thinking, John Jerome fell asleep.
It was a crisp, bright, fall night. Return Kingdom had eaten his supper quite dejectedly after spending the whole day watching for the coming of Lone-Elk or others of the Indians, while making scarcely more than a pretense of being busy husking corn. He was glad that John would soon return. While he had no thought of deserting the cabin and the clearing, he would feel much more comfortable to have Jerome somewhere near. True, he could see but little of him until Lone-Elk’s accusation was effectually disposed of, but there would at least be some one with whom he could discuss the situation, some one sharing with him the news of each day’s developments and the plans for future action.
In a brown study Ree sat before the fireplace. Then an Indian yell, fierce and loud—a yell which was more of a war-whoop than he was glad to hear—brought him quickly to his feet. Seizing his rifle, he opened a loophole in the wall in a corner where the light was dim, and looked out. A party of savages was approaching. The Indians moved in single file, making no effort to conceal their numbers, and seeming to be bent on no particular mischief.
Reassured by his observations, Kingdom opened the door while the redskins were yet but half way up the hill and, putting on an appearance of unconcern, called out to know who was disturbing the night with such a racket.
“The Delawares have come to demand the Little Paleface,” the voice of Lone-Elk rose in response.
“You mean the Seneca has come,” Kingdom boldly answered. “It is he who demands that one who was never anything but the friend of the Delawares shall be punished for a crime that is not his.”
By this time the Indians were close about the cabin door.