He could see that Indian John was seated upon the ground with his head resting upon his knees. He had not moved nor changed his position since they had entered. Motionless as a statue he remained seated, as if he were utterly unmindful of all about him.
"John!" whispered Little Peter at last.
The Indian raised his head and looked at his companion, but did not speak.
"John, don"t you think we"d better start on again?"
Indian John still made no reply, and his head dropped again upon his knees. Peter then perceived that his companion intended neither to speak nor to depart, and that he must wait in silence for him to explain his purpose, or to act.
The impatient lad endeavored to possess his soul in patience, but as the moments pa.s.sed his anxiety and fear increased. The uncertainty, he thought, was even more difficult to be borne than was the pursuit itself, for action of some kind was then possible, while this waiting in silence was almost unbearable. Not a sound could now be heard. The very birds were silent under the burning heat of the noontime, and the grating notes of the crickets had ceased.
At last it seemed to him he could bear it no longer, and he was about to arise and go forth from the hut, regardless of consequences, when some one entered and spoke a few words in an unknown tongue to Indian John.
"Come," said the Indian gently, standing erect as he spoke; and Little Peter at once followed him out into the open air.
He glanced quickly about him, but no one was to be seen except three Indians, one of whom was a man, and the others, two women. Little Peter instantly recognized them as Moluss, or "Charlie" Moluss, as many of the whites called him, and his wife and her sister.
The two women were busily engaged in preparing the contents of a small iron vessel, which was hanging from a stick supported by two forked branches, driven into the ground, and beneath which a brisk fire was burning.
One of the women was feeding the fire, while the other was stirring the contents of the hanging pot. A savory odor greeted Little Peter"s nostrils, and as soon as he perceived that he was in no immediate danger he realized that he was hungry; and, with the pa.s.sing of his alarm, there came an eager interest in the occupation of the two women before him.
Little Peter had seen the trio many times before this. They had their home with others of their tribe in a little settlement several miles back in the interior. This settlement was commonly known as Edgepelick, or Edge Pillock, and to it the Indians had gradually withdrawn after they had disposed of their lands, for the good people of Old Monmouth were as scrupulous as their New England cousins in not taking the lands from the dusky owners without giving a so-called equivalent for them.
It is true that this "equivalent" sometimes was a barrel of cider, or a piece of bright-colored cloth; but perhaps the Indians thought that was better than nothing, and as their lands were certain to be taken from them, even such an equivalent as that which was offered was not to be despised, and so they had submitted to the unequal exchange. At all events, the exchanges had been made, and in the summer of 1778, many of the Indian families were dwelling in Edge Pillock, and there continued to reside until the year 1802, when the men who had driven such shrewd bargains with them caused them all to be removed to Oneida Lake, in the neighboring State of New York.
Charlie Moluss, with his wife and her sister, had been frequent visitors in Little Peter"s home, and he knew them almost as well as he did Indian John. Somehow, they had not been content to abide continuously in Edge Pillock, and at least twice each year came down to the sh.o.r.e, where they erected a wigwam, and while Moluss fished and gathered oysters and clams, the women made baskets and sold them among the scattered homes of the settlers. Doubtless this, then, was their annual visit, thought Little Peter, and their abiding place had been known to Indian John, who had sought its shelter as a place of refuge from their pursuers. And Little Peter was quite content, at least for the present, and his feeling of relief was not diminished by the savory odor which now arose from the iron vessel.
Charlie Moluss"s wife was a strikingly handsome Indian woman, and was known as Bathsheba, which the irreverent settlers had shortened into "Bath," as they had her sister"s name into "Suke."
Bathsheba was considered as an Indian queen, and the respect which the Indians showed her was, to a certain extent, shared by the white people, especially by the Quakers. She was regarded as a highly intelligent woman, and the most prominent people of the region were always glad to welcome her to their homes.
Little Peter thought of all these things as he seated himself upon the ground beside the two men, who were, apparently, as deeply interested in the occupation of the women as was he, himself. The work went steadily on, and, while Peter found that his hunger was increasing, he nevertheless listened to what Indian John told him of Moluss"s success in turning their pursuers back to their camp at Refugee Town. Some of them had followed the fugitives as far as the wigwam, but had turned away after the Indian had professed his inability to give them the information they desired, and, doubtless, before this time, were safely back in ""Gee Town," as Indian John termed their little settlement by the Hook.
Just why they had been pursued Indian John could not explain, but he had connected it in some way with the appearance of the boat off the sh.o.r.e, and Little Peter was not inclined to differ from his conclusion. He was satisfied now that his father was not to be found in Refugee Town, and he had decided to go farther down the sh.o.r.e to the place where he thought he would be likely to find Captain Dennis, or some of the local militia who had been stationed near to protect the salt works and strive to hold back the pine robbers, many of whom had their places of concealment not far away.
Just at present, however, the thought of his dinner was uppermost in his mind. He eagerly watched Bathsheba and her sister in their work, and, from their movements, he concluded that his waiting time was soon to end. One of the women entered the wigwam and brought out several small wooden bowls. Into these she dipped some of the steaming contents of the iron vessel, placing each bowl upon the ground when it had been filled.
A word from Bathsheba caused Moluss to arise, and, approaching the fire, he took one of the bowls in both hands and then seated himself upon the ground and proceeded to blow with his breath upon the soup, preparatory to drinking it.
His example was speedily followed by Indian John and Little Peter, who took their bowls and seated themselves beside Moluss on the ground. An expression of deep satisfaction was manifest upon the faces of the two men, while the women, apparently proud of their success in the culinary art, looked on with evident pleasure. Little Peter also raised the bowl in his hands and blew upon it.
"Good!" said Moluss, taking a long draught. "Good hop! Hop good!"
"Good!" muttered Indian John, following his friend"s example. "Good hop!
Good hop!"
"What?" said Little Peter suddenly, placing his bowl again on the ground before him as he spoke. "What was that you said, John?"
"Good! Good hop," replied the Indian, with evident satisfaction.
"You don"t mean to say that hop-toads are in this soup, do you?"
"Um!" replied Indian John, with a grunt of pleasure. "Good! Little hop-hop! John like um! Good hop! John like um little hop-hop!" And, suiting the action to the word, he proceeded to take a deeper draught of the savory mixture.
All of Little Peter"s hunger, however, had disappeared. He quickly arose from his seat, and, with an expression of disgust upon his face, which he could not entirely repress, prepared to pa.s.s the group and go into the forest.
A loud laugh greeted his action, and as he pa.s.sed Moluss, the Indian held forth his bowl, and said, "Peter like um hop-hop? Good! Moluss like um hop-hop! John like um hop-hop! Squaw like um hop-hop! All like um hop-hop! All like um hop-hop! Peter like um, too?"
Little Peter was not to be tempted, and the broad grin upon the faces of the women, as well as the loud laugh of the men which followed him as he turned into the forest, did not tend to overcome his feeling of disgust.
How was it possible that they could be willing to eat such filthy creatures as hop-toads? Little Peter was all in ignorance of some of the dainty viands which, under high-sounding names, are served up in our modern restaurants, and so, as a matter of course, could draw no comparison between the tastes of the rude, uncivilized savages and those of the more highly cultivated men of our own times. Perhaps he would not have compared them if he had been possessed of the prophet"s foresight.
He knew, however, that his own hunger had disappeared, and as he walked on he found many excuses for his uncivilized friends. They were welcome to their own customs, but they must not expect him to join them in their feasts.
He had gone so far from the wigwam by this time that he thought the repast, which had so highly delighted his friends, would be ended by the time he could walk back. Accordingly, he reversed his steps, but as he walked on his own pressing problem returned in full force.
His father was not to be found in Refugee Town, of that he felt certain; for, while Indian John had not said much, he knew him so well that he was satisfied he had known whereof he had spoken.
Where, then, could he be? It was currently reported that Fenton"s band had a place in the lower part of the county, to which they carried their booty and from which they started forth on their raids. It was just possible that his father had been taken there by the outlaws in their flight, but he would not long be retained there. Fenton knew what American prisoners were worth in the New York market, and, doubtless, he would find some means by which he could send him there. And the pine robber would act soon, too, for with the approach of the armies, there would be many opportunities for his own special work, and he would not long be hampered by the presence of a single prisoner, whose value would be slight compared with that of the plunder he might secure.
Little Peter decided that what he was to do he must do quickly. He would start at once for the place where Captain Dennis"s men were said to be, and place the entire matter in their hands. The captain was a man whose bravery was well known in Old Monmouth, and he was ever ready to aid the scattered settlers.
Captain Dennis would surely help him, too, Peter thought, and, with his heart somewhat lightened, he began to walk more rapidly. He would return to the wigwam and inform Indian John of his decision. If John would go with him, he would be glad of his aid, but, whether he went or not, the lad felt that his own problem was, in a measure, already solved.
"Little Peter, is that you?"
The startled lad looked up quickly at the unexpected summons, and saw, standing directly in his pathway, nine men. Each had a musket in his hands, but they wore no uniforms, and for a moment Little Peter could not determine whether they were friends or foes.
CHAPTER XIII
WITH THE REDCOATS
THE fear in Tom Coward"s heart, when he discovered that he was between the lines of the soldiers, made him almost desperate. The men before him already had raised their guns, and at any moment he expected to hear their report. When he had glanced behind him he had seen that the men there were also prepared to shoot, and he was in a position where he was likely to receive the discharges of both sides.
Along by the side of the road was a deep ditch, which had been worn by the spring floods. Just at present there was no water in it, and Tom instantly threw himself upon the ground, and, still grasping his gun, rolled toward the place. As he slipped over the side he heard the discharge of the guns, and his heart almost stood still in his terror.
The bullets, however, had all gone over his head, and the lad was unharmed, although he was so frightened that even the thoughts of his own personal safety were almost driven from his mind.
Shouts and calls followed the discharge of the guns, and then there was a rush of men past the place in which he was lying. From the direction from which the men had come, Tom concluded that those who were behind him had fled, and that the others were in swift pursuit of them. He did not dare to raise his head, nor try to obtain a glimpse of the combatants, but lay still in his hiding-place, hoping that in the excitement his presence would not be discovered. The shouts continued, but as they sounded farther and farther away, the trembling lad concluded that pursuers and pursued must have turned the bend in the road. If they kept on, he would soon be able to crawl forth from the ditch, he thought, and in the woods would find some place in which he might remain until all the immediate danger had pa.s.sed.
Still, he did not yet dare to leave his hiding-place, and, as the moments pa.s.sed, his own fears and anxiety were not allayed. His face and hands were covered with the mud which had clung to them when he had slid into the ditch. The mosquitoes gathered about him, and, do what he would, he could not drive off the tormenting little pests. The sultriness which had followed the brief storm was almost unbearable, and Tom felt as if he could not have selected a worse place in which to conceal himself. There had not been much of any "selecting" about it, he grimly thought, for he had crawled into the first shelter that presented itself. A place in the muddy ditch was to be preferred to one in the middle of the road, and between two contending bands of soldiers. Here the bullets were not likely to find him, at least for the present, and his only hope depended upon the possibility of his presence not having been heeded. Perhaps the soldiers in either band had been so intent upon watching what the others would do, that a frightened lad between their lines would not be discovered.
This hope was not strong enough to induce him to leave his shelter, and he decided to remain in the ditch until he was satisfied that all danger was past. The moments dragged on, and the silence which had followed the brief contest was unbroken. The heat was becoming more and more intense, and Tom felt that he could not remain much longer in his present position. Still, he waited and listened, but the sound of the cawing crows was all that he could hear. He counted off the minutes, and when what he judged must be an hour had pa.s.sed, he concluded to remain there no longer. The men had not been heard in all that time, and doubtless must have disappeared from the immediate vicinity.
The sight of the men had shown Tom that he was nearer the army than he had supposed. For a moment the thought of his former eager desire to join it came into his mind, and when he contrasted his feelings then with those he now had, his present position seemed almost ludicrous.
Bespattered with mud, hiding in a ditch by the roadside, in constant fear of the return of the men, he certainly did not present the appearance of a very brave young soldier. Even Tom smiled as he thought of all this, but he was wiser than he had been a few days before this time, and the sound of guns was not exactly like that of which he had dreamed.
Tom Coward was not lacking in bravery, however, but the position in which he had found himself certainly was a trying one, and perhaps the boldest of us might have done no better had we been caught in his predicament.