One dark night, Minor Spicer, who lived in one of these isolated cabins, heard some one call in front of his house. It was late, and Spicer's family, with the exception of himself and wife, had retired. Seizing his rifle, Minor, in spite of his wife's entreaty that he should pay no attention to the hail, opened the door and stepped outside.
A large Indian, mounted on a big raw-boned gray horse, with a deer across the withers, and a rifle in each hand, confronted the settler.
"What do you want?" the white man asked. The Indian replied in the Wyandotte tongue, a language perfectly unintelligible to Spicer.
"Speak English! Speak English!" shouted Spicer, "or as sure as a gun is iron I will draw a bead on you."
The Indian was not alarmed by this threat, since he understood not one word of it. But he knew three English, words, and now used them to good purpose. Pointing to the cabin, he exclaimed, "Injun tired, cold, sleepy," and Minor understood at once that he desired a night's lodging.
Now, among the frontiersmen, hospitality was universal. The latch string literally hung on the outside. No matter how humble the guest, and whether friend or foe, shelter was never denied, and even the last crust would be divided with the stranger. In the present instance the request was promptly granted, Spicer showing the Indian where to put his horse, and then, it must be confessed with inward misgivings, leading the way into the house, the Indian bringing in his venison.
The good woman fairly trembled with terror as she looked upon the towering form and forbidding face of their savage guest, as he hung up his venison with an air of proprietorship after which he placed his guns and tomahawk in a corner of the backroom which served as kitchen.
With his scalping-knife the Indian now cut a large piece from the venison and intimated by signs that he was hungry and desired Mrs. Spicer to cook it for him. Mrs. Spicer complied with the request, her husband standing near, his rifle always within reach, watching every movement of the sullen-faced guest, regretting more and more that he had permitted him to enter. He consoled himself with the thought that had he refused he would have incurred his undying hatred, and resolved, while seemingly at ease, to be on the alert for treachery, and repay it with death.
The wife broiled the meat upon the coals, seasoned it well with pepper and salt, and motioned the Indian toward the table. He ate only a few mouthfuls, and when he thought he was unobserved, slyly slipped the greater portion of it in his pouch, clearly refuting, according to the watchful white man's mind, his claim that he was hungry, and convincing Spicer that mischief was intended.
The host and hostess signified their intention of retiring, and the Indian lay down before the fire. Mr. and Mrs. Spicer retired to the front room, which opened through a door from the kitchen, which was occupied by the Indian. Of course, sleep was impossible, for their own lives and that of their children, and indeed the fate of the whole settlement, might depend upon their vigilance.