Stock-raising and agriculture were the chief objects of the settlers, though in course of time a store and Indian trading-post were opened. At this point, all the surrounding settlements—which in fact were few—obtained their supplies, and many dollars’ worth of furs and peltries were brought here and exchanged by the Indians for flour, powder, and ammunition of all kinds, and such trinkets as pleased their savage fancy or wants. The settlers did all within their power to keep up a friendly intercourse between themselves and the Indians. This they would have had no trouble in doing, but for the influence of unprincipled white men, who, driven from the society of their own race, sought shelter within the red man’s lodges, or the mountain fastnesses, where they organized themselves into bands to rob and murder the unoffending settler or emigrant.
Through the instrumentality of these white outlaws, the Indians were kept in an almost constant state of hostilities, and it behooved the whites ever to be upon their guard, and use every exertion toward ridding the country of all those prime roots of border troubles—the white robber, and the white renegade.
Among the latter class of outlaws, who had become notorious for his deep cunning and wickedness, was one Dick Sherwood, whose crimes were multitudinous. And for some cause or other, Clontarf’s Post was the central point around which this moth of Satan seemed to flutter most of all. It seemed that he cherished a natural antipathy toward the place, or some of its people, and tried in vain, by every means that his cunning brain could concoct, to destroy it.
Finally he had the audacious boldness to disguise himself in the paint and garb of an Indian, and come to the post on a pretended mission of peace. He was kindly received by the men of the post, who had supposed him a genuine Indian sent by his people to make some terms of peace, as a deadly hostility had existed between them for the past six months.
A council was called, and a treaty of peace at once entered into, by and between the settlers and the great chief, Rolling Thunder, as he called himself.
After the treaty was concluded, the chief remained at the post a day or two; and, but for his attempting to carry away Miss Clara Bryant, one of the fairest jewels of the post, on taking his leave of the settlement, his disguise would never have been penetrated. However, he was caught at his little game of abduction and taken prisoner. By a vigorous application of water by means of numerous duckings in the river, his feathers were caused to droop and his mask of paint to wash away; and the great messenger of peace—the mighty Rolling Thunder, was found to be the notorious renegade, Dick Sherwood.
The vengeance of the settlers was at once aroused. The villain was locked up in the block-house, the remainder of the night upon which he was captured, and the next day he was led forth for trial.
According to their notion of border justice, the settlers of Clontarf’s Post found Sherwood guilty of crimes punishable by death, and so he was condemned to be hanged in the forest on the morrow.
The morrow came. It was the day upon which our story opens.
The prisoner was led forth from his prison, in the midst of a group of men. It was this group that young Rollo, the ranger, saw from the crest of the prairie wave.