The boy sat looking into the wild face of the savage and shuddered. He knew the Indian hated and waited, and, when the storm burst, he would be like a wild beast.
Notwithstanding the bitter hostility displayed by the old man, his counsel was for peace and it was evident he feared a conflict would be precipitated before the Indians could be ready. He scowled at all reports of disturbance. The capture of Rodney worried him. Whenever the subject was mentioned he would say: “Shawnees. The spirit of evil is upon the red man and the paleface.”
One day the chief asked the boy if he knew Daniel Morgan, who lived at Winchester, and from the Indian’s manner of speaking it appeared he had great respect for the man’s fighting qualities. He told of an attempt to ambush Morgan, in which he took part. They shot him, the bullet entering the mouth and coming out on the left side, taking the teeth along with it. 85 Morgan was on horseback. He reeled in the saddle but clung to the horse’s mane and urged him forward. Ahneota ran after him, thinking to seize the horse, as he was a swift runner. Failing in this, he threw his tomahawk. He failed to hit Morgan, though his skill at throwing the hatchet was great. He declared the evil spirit turned the tomahawk aside that Morgan might live and persecute the Indians. After the war, such was his curiosity, he visited Winchester to learn more about Morgan, and told the boy many things, which the latter was to recall.
A few days later François, who had brought “Maman” and Louis to the village, came back to buy furs, offering in exchange blankets, knives and hatchets, powder and ball, also he had several bottles of brandy. The “fire-water” was, of course, the most attractive of his wares and by afternoon several Indians were drunk, among them Ahneota. When Rodney learned this his heart sank, for his old friend was helpless to protect him. He looked for Caughnega and noticed that he was sober. That fact indicated he intended mischief. Unless an Indian had a very strong purpose in mind, he would not refuse liquor. Later, Caughnega and Marie were seen talking together, and then the trader joined them. Rodney was walking past, and when near them Caughnega noticed him and made a signal to the others and they lowered their voices. Out in front of the village the young braves had built a fire, and were dancing around it and yelling like fiends.
“Do they intend to burn me?” was the question which arose in the boy’s mind.
“I’ll die trying rather than waiting,” said the boy to himself. He hastened to his wigwam, and taking some dried meat and parched corn, arming himself with knife and hatchet, also bow and arrows, he stole unobserved out of the village and into the woods.
Most Indians of that day had become unaccustomed to the use of bow and arrow, and were dependent on the whites to furnish them with guns and ammunition. This was a fact which the old chief bemoaned. Rodney, being deprived of the use of a rifle, shrewdly induced the old Indian to show him how to make a bow and arrows and how to use them and he already had acquired considerable skill.
A little distance away in the forest stood a large tree with a hollow trunk, inside which a tall man might stand up straight, though the opening was small. Once he and Louis had made a sort of perch in the upper part to which a boy might crawl and be safe from observation, unless one went to the trouble of crawling into the hollow and looking up.
Rodney made his way to the tree as best he might in the gathering dusk and hid himself on the perch. There he remained throughout the night, with dismal thoughts for companions and the cries of the night hawk to cheer him. Toward morning he fell asleep. He was awakened by a slight noise and, looking down, saw the face of Caughnega peering in!