The Phantom of the River | Page 3

deferred his
furious meeting with the ranger in order to strike a more fearful blow
against the pioneers.
The moment Wa-on-mon plunged into the woods near the clearing,
with the avowed purpose of meeting Kenton, he was off like a deer in
search of a large war party that he knew was somewhere in the
neighborhood. With them he meant to return and "wipe out" every man,
woman and child of the settlers.
Meanwhile, the Altmans and Ashbridges, assisted by their companions,
removed all their goods from the flatboat against the bank and placed
them in the cabin, prepared some time before for the occupancy of the
Ashbridges. This was hardly done when Daniel Boone appeared at the
clearing with disquieting news. He advised them, however, to stay,
since their means of defence was good, but hardly was the decision
reached when a runner came in with the news that an uprising among
the surrounding tribes had already begun, and it would not do for the
pioneers to remain another day. Nothing could save the lonely cabins
and exposed dwellings except immediate flight to the nearest
settlement or block-house.

Ten miles from the clearing, and standing on the northern bank of the
Ohio, was the block-house in charge of Captain Bushwick. The
Altmans and Ashbridges made the sad mistake of not fastening the
flatboat to the bank and taking up their quarters at this frontier post
until the full truth was learned about the dangers confronting them.
The first intention of Boone and his party was to escort the settlers back
to the block-house. They had a brush with a company of Shawanoes,
and defeated them. It was not the main body, however, under the
leadership of The Panther. That remained to be heard from, and its
whereabouts was unknown.
Mr. Altman, his wife, and daughter Agnes, and his negro servant,
Jethro Juggens, Mr. Ashbridge and his wife, daughter Mabel, and their
son George set out for the block-house on the Ohio side of the river.
Their plan was to keep along the Kentucky bank until opposite the post,
when the means would be readily found for crossing. The two families
were in charge of the rangers that Boone had brought with him for the
purpose of acting as their escort. They were forced to leave behind
them all their earthly possessions in the solitary cabin, with not the
remotest prospect of ever seeing them or it again.
Although the day was well along when the start was made, yet the
situation was so critical, because of the part The Panther was certain to
play in the coming events, that Boone and Kenton took the advance,
proceeding by parallel but separated lines, and on the guard against any
stealthy approach from the Indians.
It was the hope that by preventing or, rather, averting any attack until
nightfall, the prospects of the pioneers would be vastly improved.
Though the forest possessed no available trail that could be used even
in the daytime, the rangers, and especially Kenton and Boone, were so
familiar with it, that they could guide their friends with unerring
accuracy when the darkness was so profound that it was almost worthy
of the old remark that a person could not see his hand before his face.
Accordingly, all yearned or prayed for the coming of darkness.

"Hark," whispered Kenton, turning to Boone, and raising his hand as a
gesture for silence.
No need of that, for the elder had caught the sound--a faint and
apparently distant cawing of a crow from some lofty tree-top.
Both had heard the same cry more than once that afternoon, and instead
of its being the call of a crow, they knew it came from the throat of an
Indian warrior, and therefore a relentless enemy.
CHAPTER II.
THE CAWING OF A CROW.
Three separate times previous to this that faint cawing signal had been
heard, as it seemed, from the distant tree-tops. The most sensitive ear
could not say of a certainty it was not made by one of those
black-coated birds calling to its mate or the flock from which it had
strayed. Neither Boone nor Kenton distinguished any difference
between the tone and what they had heard times without number, and
yet neither held a doubt that it was emitted by a dusky spy stealing
through the woods, and that it bore a momentous message to others of
his kith and kin.
The keen sense of hearing enabled the rangers to locate the signal at
less than a quarter of a mile in front and quite close to the Ohio. From
the first time it was heard, no more than half an hour before, it held the
same relative distance from the river, but advanced at a pace so nearly
equal to