The Phantom of the River | Page 9

as they can under."
"Then the problem, as I understand it," said the older Ashbridge, "is to
act so as to convince the Indians that we intend to follow the path
through the gulch where they mean to ambuscade us, and to keep up
this impression until nightfall."
"You've hit it precisely, Mr. Ashbridge."

"But how is that to be done? I know of no one beside you to answer the
question."
"Boone and me have been thinking powerful hard over the matter, and
the best thing to be done, as I see it, is this: You know we left a canoe
down by the clearing alongside the boat. I'll go back there and get it,
that is, if it is still there. I'll try to keep so close in under the bank that
the varmints won't know what I'm driving at. I'll manage to reach a p'int
just this side of Rattlesnake Gulch early in the evening, and will wait
for you. Then I'll hurry the women folks 'cross to the other side and
make the rest of the journey to the block-house on the Ohio bank."
"You will have to make two trips with the canoe."
"Onless I can find another one that was hid under the bushes on this
side not fur from the gulch. If that's there, I'll take one party over, and
Boone, or some one else, tother."
"And the rest of us will have it out with the redskins," remarked Weber
Hastings, with flashing eyes.
"You must start on agin," said Kenton, addressing Hastings, as the
leader of the party in the absence of himself and Boone; "don't hurry,
for as it is you've got too much time now on your hands. If you find
you're getting too near Rattlesnake Gulch afore sun-down, you must
have some sort of accident that'll give you an excuse for stopping for a
time. That'll keep the varmints from 'specting anything."
"We ought to be able to arrange some accident," remarked George
Ashbridge, with a smile, slyly pressing the hand of Agnes, standing
beside him. "I'll fall over a log if necessary and break a leg."
"A better plan will be for Jethro to get shot accidentally like."
"Gorrynation, dat won't work!" exclaimed the negro, who did not let a
word escape him; "de bestest way to fix dat will be to stuff me so full
of victuals dat I won't be able to walk alone, and de rest ob yo' will hab
to carry me slow like."

"Wal, time is passing; it won't do to stay here any longer; I leave you in
charge of Weber; he can do as well as me or Boone."
The scout turned to move away, when Jethro Juggens laid his hand on
his arm.
"See yar, Mr. Kenton, I's worried 'bout yo'," said the colored youth,
with an anxious expression on his countenance.
"What's the cause of that?" asked the ranger, who, as already stated,
held a kindly feeling toward the good-natured fellow.
"I's feard sumfin' will happen to yo'--feels it in my bones; I tink yo'
oughter hab some one to look after yo' while yo's gone."
"Would you like to do it?"
"I tinks a good deal ob yo', Mr. Kenton, and I's willin' to take keer ob
yo', and see dat yo' gets back all right."
Yielding to that waggish disposition which was a marked characteristic
of Simon Kenton, sometimes under the most trying circumstances, the
ranger said:
"Come on, younker, you shall take care of me."
And to the astonishment of the party, the two walked off side by side,
and disappeared among the trees to the westward.
"We'll make this bargain," remarked Kenton, a few minutes after they
were beyond sight of their friends: "You'll take care of me, and I'll do
my best to take care of you."
"Dat hits me 'bout right."
"You'll do just what I tell you to do, and won't speak or move without
my first telling you to do so."
"Dat's it; and yo' won't speak or move without fust askin' me; I'll be

easy with yo', Mr. Kenton."
"But," gravely remarked the scout, "if each of us should happen to
forbid t'other to stir or speak, we'd have to stand still forever. I'll act as
boss at first, and then when I'm ready I'll give you your turn."
"Dat don't strike me ozactly right, but, as I jist obsarved, I'll be easy
wid yo', Mr. Kenton, and let yo' start in," replied Jethro, somewhat
puzzled at the off-hand manner in which the ranger took hold of the
reins.
But the ranger never laid aside his caution and vigilance. He kept Jethro
Juggens at his heels, forbidding him to speak a word, but to watch and
listen to the utmost. The sun was