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CHARLES MAJOR
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
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THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO
ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., Limited
LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA '
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd.
TORONTO
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
A STORY OF BEARS AND
INDIAN TREASURE
BY
CHARLES MAJOR
AUTHOR OF "WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER,"
"DOROTHY VERNON OF HADDON HALL," "THE
BEARS OF BLUE RIVER," ETC., ETC.
"No man knows how much happiness there is in the
world till he hears the birds of the wildwood sing at
dawn."
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
BY P. VAN E. IVORY
Nefo f9ork
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1918
AH rights reserved
Copyright, 1908.
By THE MACM1LLAN COMPANY.
Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1908.
Reprinted October, 1914; J*,9*-
NottoooB $88
J. S. Cushing Co. -Berwick fc Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
5cF
m* 5 i / L /23 c J7
X TO MY WIFE X
2131 Of)R
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. By the Fireside
II. The Wolves and the Powder Keg
III. Wyandotte, the Indian
IV. A Bear Fight in a Snowdrift .
V. Lost in the Woods
VI. The Story of Blue Violet
VII. The Flood and the Mother Bear
VIII. Lost in the Cave ....
IX. The Robbers in the Swamp
X. A Christmas Dinner in the Woods
XL Wyandotte Once More
XII. Search for the Treasure .
i
27
58
76
94
109
133
164
208
249
280
3H
vii
ILLUSTRATIONS
" The rest of the audience sat in a circle in front of the
hearth" Frontispiece
PACING PAGE
" I was safer on top of the bear than I would be if it
were on top of me " 16
" We called the donkey Solomon ' " . . 34
" They forced us to draw up our feet so often that Balser
said he felt as if he was dancing a jig " . . . 46
Wyandotte . .64
" He angrily tossed off the bearskin " . . . 70
" We had disturbed their sleep, and they could not get
their eyes open " 80
" Balser looked like the incarnation of rage " 90
" The dogs, too, were lost " 96
" It's a bear, sure enough ! ' " 104
" He wanted none save a little maiden named ' Ionwah ' " 112
I led her to the barren hills and left her" . . . 122
" They long for spring and come out of their burrows in
search of food " 140
" The bears were as much frightened as I " . . . 148
"She had come to us for protection" . . . .178
ix
x ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING PAGE
" ' Just as Wyandotte described it! ' whispered Balser " 190
" At times she allowed the horse to rest "... 220
"We left our wagon and harness in exchange for the
girl" 244
" One hundred yards ahead of me was the bear " . . 266
"Wild with grief I took Mab in my arms and started
home " 272
" It took us nearly a week to get to Blue River " . . 284
" He made a thrust at me as if he intended to hide his
knife-blade in my body " 296
"We saw our horses hitched to stakes before the door" 314
" We counted six hundred pieces of twenty dollars each " 340
MAP
Map of Wyandotte Cave 320
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
CHAPTER I
BY THE FIRESIDE
My uncle's name was Thomas Andrew
William Addison. His father and mother
had three girls and only one boy, so they
said they would give him as many names as
a boy could stand, to make up, in a manner,
for his deficiency in number. His play-
mates, none of whom could boast more than
one name, laughed at his unusual assort-
ment. Some called him Tom, others Andy,
and others again found that Bill came trip-
pingly on the tongue. In time the three
names amalgamated, and " Tom Andy Bill "
fell permanently to his lot. My mother was
one of Tom Andy Bill's sisters. She and
my father dying when I was very young,
my uncle took me to "raise," and warmed
me in his great, tender breast.
Uncle Tom Andy Bill was an "old bach-
elor," though he had reared a family of
fourteen children all adopted. All these
2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
children except one (of her you will hear a
great deal in these pages) were nieces or
nephews and grand-nieces or grand-nephews
whose parents, like mine, had died. You may
be sure every member of the adopted family
worshipped with unquestioning faith at the
shrine of "the Adopter," as some of Tom
Andy Bill's older friends lovingly called him.
The mother instinct was so strong in Tom
Andy Bill's heart that all his friends regretted
he had never married. I remember once
hearing two old ladies deplore the fact. One
of them said tenderly :
"Oh, yes, it's too bad. He was the like-
liest young man I ever knew so tall and
strong and gentle. He was like a Greek
statue in form, and like a hero in bravery
and truthfulness and all that was good. His
hair was dark and curled about the finest
head and the handsomest face I ever saw.
No, he never married, but he had a sweet-
heart once yes, yes, you know the story.
Sad, wasn't it ? So sad."
I had long wanted to hear the story, and
frequently had tried to learn it; but no
one of my generation seemed to know it,
though many had heard it mentioned in a
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 3
general way as " very sad." None of Uncle
Tom Andy Bill's generation would talk on
the subject all the romance, doubtless, hav-
ing oozed out of them.
Twenty years ago, when Uncle Tom Andy
Bill told the following stories, he was quite
an old man, but he was still young in heart,
and strong and beautiful in person. He was
fully six feet two inches high, and as straight
as a gray ash arrow. His face was smooth,
his glowing dark eyes had lost none of their
lustre, and his great shock of waving white
hair was a veritable halo of glory. Seven
members of the adopted family were still
under his roof at the time of which I speak ;
the other seven had married, or, as Uncle
Tom Andy Bill said, " had flown the nest."
Of the seven remaining under his care, all
were grand-nieces and grand-nephews save
Baby Mab and me. I was a nephew, and Mab
was but you shall learn about her as we
progress. I'll let Uncle Tom Andy Bill tell
her little story and also the story of his
sweetheart. They will be short.
I was teaching school, and learning short-
hand at the same time, so I practised, taking
down Uncle Tom Andy Bill's stories of his
4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
boyhood days as he told them to his family
about a winter's fireside, and that is the way
I happen to have them to tell to you.
Uncle Tom Andy Bill always sat in his
great arm-chair on the right side of the enor-
mous fireplace. He was near the fire so that
the smoke from his pipe would go up the
chimney. Next to him very, very close
sat Baby Mab in her tiny rocking-chair.
The rest of the audience, ranging in years
from Die, who was ten, to myself (at that
time I soared in the empyrean heights of
twenty-one), sat in a circle, that is, a half
circle, in front of the hearth. The fire fur-
nished light and heat, and plenty of each.
The picture we presented, with rare old
Nestor on our right flank, the dancing flames
in front lighting up our faces, and the flitting
shadows silently playing hide-and-seek in the
dark corners of the room behind us, was one
worthy of a master's brush. I wish I had
it on canvas.
I will not try to reproduce Uncle Tom
Andy Bill's inimitable dialect, but will give
you his stories as I took them down, redo-
lent, however, of his manner and his style.
He was a man of much reading and of con-
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 5
siderable culture, but he spoke the language
of his friends, and cared a great deal more
for what he said than for how he said it. I
believe Uncle Tom Andy Bill's stories were,
in the main, true, though on rare occasions
he may have " idealized " certain incidents
for the benefit of his open-eyed, credulous
audience. It is almost impossible to resist
the temptation to create wonder in those
who eagerly believe all one says.
One cold evening, a fortnight before
Christmas, Uncle Tom Andy Bill fell into a
reminiscent mood, and spoke freely of his
boyhood days.
" That was long, long ago, fifty-odd
years back in the heart of time. You all
can't imagine how far back fifty years is.
One has to live seventy years to understand
what it means. When a man of seventy
looks back to his boyhood, it is like looking
down from a great height at men and women
on the earth below. The boy of fifty or sixty
years ago looks small and far away, as if he
were viewed through a spyglass turned end
for end."
" Tell us about the Indian treasure," sug-
gested one of the small boys.
6 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" You want to hear about the Indian treas-
ure, do you ? " asked Uncle Tom Andy Bill.
" Well, I'll begin at the very beginning and
tell you all about it, though it will take a
great many evenings to finish the story, and
many adventures will happen on the way."
" The more, the better ! " shouted every
boy and girl in the room. " And we do want
you to begin at the very beginning and tell
us all about it right up to the end."
" And we want a lot of bear stories, too,"
said one of the boys.
" Don't you hope it will take all winter ? "
whispered one of the small girls.
" Sh ! Sh ! Sh ! " came from several pairs
of older lips, and Uncle Tom Andy Bill be-
gan.
THE STORY
You see, father and mother came up from
Carolina about the year '19 or '20 and settled
here in Indiana on Blue River. I was a little
fellow, ten or twelve years old, but I remem-
ber it all all. We built our cabin where
the old house still stands down the river,
five miles from here, as you all know. I
thought father selected the spot close to the
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 7
river so that I should not have far to go
afishing. He probably had other reasons,
but you see the one boy in a family of girls is
apt to think that all the spheres of the fam-
ily system revolve about him. It's bad for a
boy to get the notion into his head that he
is " the whole thing," for, you see, he has to
get it out again. It is knocked out of him
later in life, and the more firmly the idea
becomes fixed in his head, the harder the
knocks must be to loosen it. It cracks
many a fool's skull for good and all.
The neighbors for miles around came to
help us build our log cabin. When it was
finished and the openings between the logs
were well " chinked " with mud, father built
a great chimney; then we moved in and
were as snug as a bug in a rug. After the
house was built, father went to work to make
a clearing by chopping down trees and grub-
bing out underbrush.
Oh, how I enjoyed the great bonfires when
the neighbors came to help at the " log roll-
ing." Father chopped down the trees and
cut them into pieces that could be easily
handled. When the neighbors came, they
rolled the logs together and piled the brush ;
8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
then the torch was applied, and what a sight
it was ! Talk about your Fourth of July
fireworks ! Compared to our log fires, they
look like a candle beside a burning barn.
Clearing the ground was hard work, but
father soon had a fine patch of rich bottom
ground cleared of everything but stumps.
Stumps ! They stood so thick on the ground
that you would have thought a dog could
not wiggle between them in places, if his
backbone happened to be stiff. Here, dur-
ing the first summer, father raised a small
crop of corn and a great number of pump-
kins that helped to keep us alive during the
winter.
Our chief support was game, of which the
deep, black forests were full. Deer, quail,
wild turkeys, rabbits, and squirrels infested
the whole country ; and father, in a few
hours' hunting, could easily fill our little
kitchen with more venison, as the meat of all
wild game was called, than we could eat in a
month.
When I was about twelve years old, father
bought a rifle for me and began to take me
out hunting with him. In addition to ven-
ison for the table, we hunted coons, wolves,
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 9
foxes, minks, and beavers for the sake of
their fur, and father brought home many a
dollar from the sale of pelts. In those days
there were many bears, too, and for several
reasons we loved to hunt them. They killed
our sheep and were fonder of pig a tender
little squeaker than you all are of circus
candy. It was impossible to keep them
away from our little pigs, and that was one
reason we liked to kill the bears. We also
liked the meat of a young fat bear, and a
good whole bearskin was worth ten shillings,
that is, two dollars and a half. If you want
to know how big two dollars and a half
looked at that time, just go out and take
a peep at the full moon. We loved to
hunt deer, too, for their meat was delicious
and their hides sold for two shillings
fifty cents. Even fifty cents looked big
then.
Father and I killed many wolves and
foxes, too, but of all the game that prowled
the forest, I loved best to hunt bear. There
was the spice of danger in it, and when we
killed a bear, we not only felt proud of our
achievement, but we had something worth
while for our labor.
io UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I remember, when I was about fourteen
years old, father and I started out one morn-
ing to kill a deer. A neighbor boy, who
lived one mile down the river from father's
house, accompanied us. His name was
Balser Brent, and he and I were chums.
He had a beautiful gun and was a great
hunter for his years. As I have said, we
started out to kill a deer, but we found a
bear. I suppose if we had started out for a
bear, we might have found a deer, so easy is
it to get what one does not seek. We got
what we didn't seek that day, and got plenty
of it.
Along Blue River the settlers had built
several houses, and deer, being shy, are apt
to stray away from the habitations of their
mortal enemy, man. Therefore, father,
Balser, and I walked over to Brandywine
Creek, three or four miles west of Blue,
where we hoped soon to kill a. deer, swing it
over a pole, and carry it home.
We had with us Balser's dogs, Tige and
Prince, and there were not on all Blue River
two better hunters than these intelligent
animals. They would hunt anything, but
they agreed with Balser and me that bear
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL n
was the only game really worth the prowess
of enterprising men and first-class dogs.
I suppose Tige and Prince knew we were
hunting deer that morning, and although
they were willing to help, they were not at
all enthusiastic. They were watchful and
alert, but they did not seem to throw all their
energies into the work. We had been on the
banks of Brandywine an hour or two, but
had not seen a deer even at a distance.
All of us, including the dogs, were grow-
ing tired and were inclined to be listless,
when suddenly I noticed new life manifest
itself in Tige, who was running thirty yards
ahead of us. He pricked up his ears and
his whole body seemed to be on the alert.
He stood for a moment on three legs and
gave forth a quick, low bark, which was
evidently intended as a remark to Prince, for
Prince quickly bounded to his side, and
both dogs put their noses to the ground with
eagerness and excitement. They consulted
for a moment, then they uttered another low,
quick bark ; this time they were speaking to
Balser.
" A bear, sure as you live," said Balser.
" Why do you think so ? " asked father.
12 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" Tige and Prince told me so," answered
Balser.
Father shook his head, laughed, and an-
swered, " Nonsense, dogs can't talk."
" Can't they, though ? " returned Balser.
" Now listen. I'll ask them if it's a bear,
and if it is, they will answer in a quick,
low, excited bark, without lifting their noses
from the ground ; if it is other game, they
will lift their heads and bark louder, or not
at all. Is it a bear, Tige ? "
Tige answered exactly as his master said
he would, and Balser and I ran to the dogs.
We could see no tracks, for the ground was
dry and covered with leaves. It was the fall
of the year.
"Hunt him, Tige! Hunt him, Prince!"
said Balser, and the dogs started rapidly on
the scent, Balser and I following as fast as
we could run. Father had no faith in dog
talk, but he walked rapidly after us. Within
ten minutes we came to a spring where the
ground was soft, and when the dogs passed
over the muddy place, we knew we could
soon prove or disprove their assertion con-
cerning the bear. If they were on the
right scent, we should see bear tracks. Sure
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 13
enough, the tracks were there great, long,
fresh tracks, not more than an hour old. I
can't explain how an experienced hunter
knows the age of a track or a " spoor," as
the traces left by an animal are often called
by our Dutch friends; but if they are less
than a day old, one practised in the art of
"spooring" can guess the time at which they
were made and will not miss it an hour.
" Father, father ! " I cried, " the dogs are
right! Here are the tracks of at least two
bears. One of them must be as big as a
horse ; his foot is as long as my arm ! "
" If that is true, we had better turn back,"
said father, laughing ; " I don't want to hunt
a bear that has a foot on him as long as
your arm. I like big bears, but excuse me,
please."
" Oh, come on, dad ! Do hurry," cried
I, starting off after Balser and the dogs.
Father stopped to examine the tracks and
was soon convinced that the dogs were right,
so he followed us. The dogs were running
away from us, so eager were they in the
chase, and father cried out :
" Call the dogs, Balser ; make them go
slowly so that we can keep up with them."
i 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Balser whistled to the dogs and they
waited for us. When we came up to them,
off we started again in a great hurry ; father
lagging behind perhaps a hundred yards.
Balser and I kept close to the dogs, all going
at a very rapid pace; and soon we noticed
a short distance ahead of us a little hill.
Tige and Prince ran up the hill perhaps
twenty-five feet in advance of Balser and me
who were running side by side. When the
dogs reached the top of the hill, they leaped
forward as if they were jumping over a preci-
pice ; at the same time giving forth a sharp,
angry bark, emphasized by a clear note of
surprise.
Balser and I felt sure the dogs had sighted
the bears. We knew that the precipice, if
there was one, could not be very high, or the
dogs would not have taken it, so we did not
slacken our speed, but in our eagerness
sprang after Tige and Prince, and landed
squarely on two huge bears that were lying
at the foot of the low, rocky cliff. Balser
went first, and I saw him fall on the back
of a black monster that had risen to its
haunches, having been startled by the dogs.
Tige and Prince had jumped far over the
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 15
bears and had landed at the top of a steep
little declivity, down which they rolled twenty
or thirty feet to the bottom. They were so
confused by their tumble that they spun
round and round for a moment like a dog
chasing its tail.
I was going too fast to stop when I saw
Balser fall upon the bear, and although I dis-
tinctly heard him cry out, " Don't jump,
Tom Andy Bill ! " I had to jump, and down
I went. You see I didn't want Balser to
have all the fun of riding the bears, so
when I fell I knocked him out of the saddle,
so to speak, and took his place. Balser fell
toward the other bear, which had also risen to
its haunches. In his effort to roll away from
the bear, Balser came to the top of the little
hill and unceremoniously rolled down after
the dogs, leaving me to ride the bear alone.
To say that all of us, including the bears,
were surprised and frightened, doesn't begin
to express the true condition. I never was
so scared ; that is, I never had been up to
that time. Afterward I was, but that will
come later. I hardly knew what I was do-
ing, and when I felt the huge brute squirm-
ing and twisting under me in its efforts to
16 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
get on its feet, I threw my arms about its
neck and clung to it as a trick rider clings
to a bucking horse. I don't know why I
hung on, but instinct seemed to tell me that
I was safer on top of the bear than I would
be if it were on top of me, so I clung to its
back with a persistency worthy of a better
cause. Balser's gun had fallen from his
hands ; but mine was strapped across my
back, and of course I kept it with me.
The bears were as badly frightened as we
were, so when the black fellow, upon whose
back I was clinging like a monkey to a goat,
had gained its feet, it instinctively bolted for
safety; that is, it hurriedly entered a cave
that ran into the rocks at the bottom of the
little precipice over which we had so rashly
jumped. Not knowing what else to do, I
still clung to the bear, and into the cave we
went together. Soon after the bear entered
the cave I realized my danger, and knew
that I ought to have dismounted outside ;
but by the time my slow brain had turned the
thought over, it was too late, for right back
of me came the other bear, growling like
young thunder and throwing the gravel and
leaves about like a thing possessed.
I WAS IARI DN TOP OF THE BKAR THAN I WOULD Bl IK II
WERE ON TOP OF ME"
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL ir
The cave, I afterward learned, was only
forty or fifty feet deep, though it was rather
dark, because the opening was small and al-
most covered by overhanging branches. But
I thought the bear was carrying me to the
very bowels of the earth. Of course, the
time which seemed so long to me was in
reality only a few seconds, but I never want
to live through another few seconds like
those. Presently my head came in violent
contact with the wall of the cave, and the
stones did for me what I ought to have done
for myself, that is, they knocked me from
the bear's back.
I lay on the floor of the cave for a moment,
half stunned, and the other bear in its haste
walked right over me as if I were a log. I
tried to rise to my feet, but just at that
moment Tige and Prince entered the cave,
barking furiously, and the bears charged
them with equal ferocity. In charging the
dogs, the bears also charged me, so over I
went again and the bears went over me.
My buckskin clothing was torn in shreds by
the bears as they clawed me in their efforts
to reach the dogs, and I was scratched and
bruised from head to foot. In a moment
1 8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
the dogs and bears were righting viciously,
but unfortunately they were between me and
the mouth of the cave. I remember sitting
on the ground and wondering if Balser and
father would ever come to my rescue. The
din raised by the barking of the dogs and
the angry growling of the bears was some-
thing terrific.
The strap had broken, and my gun had
fallen two or three yards from where I sat.
Instinct must have prompted me to try to
get the gun, for I am sure all power of dis-
tinct thought had been knocked and scratched
out of me. Although I could not think ra-
tionally, I vividly remember every little inci-
dent connected with that awful fight in the
cave. I remember crawling to my gun and
examining it to see if it was broken ; I re-
member a shiver of joy it could have been
nothing but a shiver when I found that
the gun was uninjured ; I also remember the
fight between the dogs and the bears.
Tige and Prince surely were the bravest
dogs that ever lived, and were as nimble
as cats. The huge, clumsy bears charged
them, striking viciously with their great
horny paws, but the dogs nimbly retreated
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 19
and as nimbly rushed back upon their foes,
inflicting ugly wounds with their sharp teeth,
and again retreating before the bears could
deliver a deadly stroke. Once, however, I
remember that the larger bear landed fairly
on poor Prince, and the devoted dog in turn
landed against the stone wall of the cave with
a force that, it seemed to me, would not only
break every bone in his body, but might also
crack the rock. The poor dog lay stunned
and bruised for a moment, staggered to his
feet, and limped again into the midst of the
fray. Although I had been in the cave but
a few seconds, my eyes were growing used to
the gloom, and as the bears were between
me and the light, I could clearly distinguish
their forms.
I recovered my gun, and with the familiar
weapon once more in my hands, rational con-
sciousness seemed to return. Then I began
to cast around in my mind for some way to
help my friends, Tige and Prince. Time
and again the bears charged the dogs and
retreated, but when they retreated they
backed toward me and often came so close
to where I was sitting that I would gladly
have moved further into the cave had
20 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I been able to push the stone wall with
me.
When the larger bear came very close to
me, I hastily rose to my feet, but my left
leg gave way under me and down I went
to the floor again. In my excitement I felt
no pain, but I knew something was wrong
with my leg. It had never before deserted
me in time of danger, but had always carried
me away as fast as any boy could run. I
never was very brave, and there is nothing
so useful to an inquisitive coward as a good
pair of legs. I do not believe that one
should " fight and run away, and live to
fight another day " ; my motto always has
been, " run away before the fight, and keep
your skin all whole and tight." I was disap-
pointed in my leg for the first time, and on
a very important occasion.
I crawled back as far as I could from
the bears and sat upright with my back
against the wall of the cave. Soon I noticed
that the bears and the dogs were gradually
moving backward toward me, and I knew
that my poor body would soon furnish them
a battle-ground. They would be fighting
over me.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 21
Fright seemed to clear my brain. I
brought my gun to my shoulder, intending to
try to shoot one of the bears in case it came
near me. The fight between the dogs and the
bears waged furiously, the bears alternately
retreating toward me and again charging
viciously upon the dogs. For a time the
bears did not come as near to me as I
desired for a shot. I determined to be sure
of my aim, for I knew there was but one
bullet between me and death the one in
my gun. If I wounded the bear and did
not kill it, I knew I should not live to load
another gun, so the precious bullet must find
lodgement either in the brain or in the heart
of the great brute.
Could I kill one of the bears, the other
probably would make a dash for liberty, or
the dogs would occupy its attention, and I
might reach the mouth of the cave unmo-
lested. I grew impatient when the bear did
not come toward me, and after waiting a
short time foolishly resolved to fire. I had
raised my gun to my shoulder, when sud-
denly the cave became dark and I could
barely distinguish the form of the bear, so I
lowered my gun. The next instant, with a
22 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
mixed feeling of horror and joy, I saw my
father's form against the light, right in line
with the bear. Had I shot and missed the
bear, I surely should have killed my father.
The bears also saw my father and retreated
backward toward me. One of them, the
larger one, left the fight first and in its
haste at self-preservation, came within a yard
of me. Now was my chance !
I distinctly remember saying to myself :
" Make haste slowly, Tom Andy Bill, for you
or this bear will die within the next minute."
I therefore deliberately brought my gun to
my shoulder, aimed as accurately as possible
at the bear's heart, and pulled the trigger.
There was a blinding flash, a terrific roar,
and I felt as if a mule had tried to kick
me through the stone wall, so violent was
the rebound of the gun. Immediately after
I fired I saw the huge black brute spring
into the air, and then it fell upon me. I felt
the sharp bristles of its neck prick my face.
I remember feeling the blood from its wound
trickling through my clothing, and after that
I knew nothing until I awakened in bed at
home several hours later.
My father and Balser told me the story of
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 23
the happenings outside the cave during the
little eternity I spent inside with the dogs
and the bears.
My father said that when he came up to the
brink of the precipice over which Balser, I,
and the dogs had disappeared, he could see no
one, and supposed that we had all hurried
forward. Balser, of course, was at the foot of
the hill, and I had ridden the bear into the
cave, where the dogs had followed me.
Father called and presently Balser answered
from below ; then father ran to him, crying :
" Where is Tom Andy Bill ? "
" I don't know," returned Balser. " Isn't
he up there with the bears ? "
" Bears ? " cried father. "There are no bears
here."
" Well, they are there two big ones.
Tom Andy Bill and I jumped right down on
them. I rolled down hill and Lordy,
where on earth are Tom Andy Bill and the
dogs ? Tom Andy B-i-1-1 ! ! " cried Balser.
There was no response, for I, of course,
could not have heard thunder in the terrific
din the bears and the dogs were making in
the cave. Father and Balser called me and
looked everywhere, but it seemed as if the
24 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
earth had opened and swallowed me. The
mouth of the cave was almost hidden by
bushes and father did not at once discover
it. After looking about for two or three
minutes, he came close to the opening and
indistinctly heard the barking of the dogs.
The noise coming from the cave seemed to
shoot out into the woods as a bullet is shot
from a gun. Father was deceived by the
peculiar effect, and thought the voices of the
dogs came from a spot opposite the mouth
of the cave. He and Balser, therefore, ran
in the direction whence the sound seemed
to come, and so were led away from me.
When they failed to find me and the dogs,
they were greatly alarmed and could not im-
agine what had become of us. Presently
Balser said :
" I know they are up there on the top of
the hill, near that little cliff, some place. I
certainly had not left them thirty seconds
when you came ! "
They hurried back to the vicinity of the
cave and began to search the place carefully.
All these mishaps and misunderstandings
consumed perhaps four or five minutes, dur-
ing which time it is one of the seven wonders
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 25
that the bears had not killed me. Balser
soon found the mouth of the cave, and father
came to my rescue. His eyes being unused
to the darkness, he could not see far into the
cave, but he heard the conflict between the
dogs and the bears, and he knew that I was
in the midst of it.
Father said he heard me cry out, though
I was unconscious of an effort to do anything
but to get through the stone wall at the back
of the cave. Father said he saw the flash of
my gun and did not stop for bears, dark-
ness, or anything. He ran in to save me, if
possible. He found the large bear lying on
top of me and supposed I was dead. He
said he did not see the other bear, but Balser
saw it and felt it too. When I fired and
killed the bear next me, the other one must
have concluded to get out of the cave, for it
started for fresh air just as Balser was stoop-
ing to enter. There was a collision, and
Balser took another trip down hill. He said
if he had rolled down that hill many more
times he would have acquired the habit.
Father pulled me out from under the bear,
and he and Balser carried me home on a
litter made from the limbs of a tree. A
26 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
neighbor went next day and brought home
the bear, and father gave me the ten shillings
he received for its skin. The other bear got
away, but Balser and I thought we found it
afterward, as I will tell you to-morrow even-
ing, if I don't go to church.
Silence ensued for a moment or two, and
little Mab, who had sat open-eyed long after
the Sandman's visit was due, said :
" Well, I hope you won't go to church,
Uncle Tom Andy Bill."
Die, who sat near her and was thankful
for the suggestion, seconded her motion
with:
"You bet!"
Mab slept in a cosey little room adjoining
Uncle Tom Andy Bill's, and the door between
the rooms was always kept open so that she
need not be afraid.
" I suppose I'll be frightened to death to-
night, Uncle Tom Andy Bill," said Mab,
"and if I am, I am coming into your bed."
" All right, honey," answered Uncle Tom
Andy Bill.
Then the two arose and started to bed,
Baby Mab leading him by the favorite finger.
CHAPTER II
THE WOLVES AND THE POWDER KEG
We all recognized the fact that five-year-
old Mab was Uncle Tom Andy Bill's favor-
ite. He cared for her as tenderly as a
mother cares for her babe. Her large gray
eyes looked one squarely in the face and
never flinched from any gaze. It was the
most perfect example of " baby stare " I have
ever known. One could not lie to those
eyes without feeling that they were looking
right down into one's bad heart. She was
not conscious that a lie could be uttered by
herself or by any one else. She had not
reached her school majority, six, but she at-
tended my school.
Upon the day after Uncle Tom Andy
Bill's story, I noticed Mab whispering to her
neighbor across the aisle.
"What are you talking about, Mab?" I
asked.
She quickly straightened up, blushed, and
27
28 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
said, " I just whispered to Die that I hoped
Uncle Tom Andy Bill would not go to
church to-night."
" Was that all you said ? You have been
talking a long time," I suggested.
Without a moment's hesitation, Mab an-
swered, " I said maybe he would go to church
and come home late, and tell another story
to the older ones, and I said if he did, I just
could not stay awake that long."
" Was that all ? " I again asked, for I loved
to hear her explanations. They were mar-
vellous specimens of unique and unvar-
nished truth.
" No, that wasn't all," said Mab ; " I said I
expect it's wrong for me to wish that Uncle
Tom Andy Bill wouldn't go to church, for
he might be damned, and that would hurt
him."
A ripple of laughter ran over the room.
"What does 'damned' mean, Mab?" I
asked.
Mab hesitated for a moment, and answered
somewhat haltingly :
" I don't know exactly, but the preacher
said if you didn't go to church, you would be
damned ; and when old Bill Grumpers told
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 29
Pat Hillis to ' be damned,' he hit him with
his fist and knocked Pat down, and I don't
want any one to knock Uncle Tom Andy
Bill down."
" I should hope not," said I, fighting my
desire to laugh. Then I asked, " Have you
said all you want to say to Die? "
"Yes, for a little while," answered Mab.
Another wave of laughter ran through the
room, and I turned my face to the wall.
Whispering in school is a terrible crime ;
but when Mab had anything to say, I did not
try to cork it in, for it would get out in some
way. At the end of ten minutes I saw the
familiar expression of eager inquisitiveness
come upon her face, and I knew that some-
thing interesting would soon happen. I
tried to keep her from catching my eye, but
it was impossible to dodge the beseeching
little face. Presently she held up her
chubby hand, and I asked :
" What is it, Mab ? "
She sprang to her feet in the aisle and
anxiously inquired :
" Do you think any one would damn Uncle
Tom Andy Bill clear down to the ground
if he doesn't go to church to-night ? "
3 o UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I had urgent business at the blackboard,
and the school enjoyed another wave of laugh-
ter.
I knew that Mab's tender little heart was
brooding over possible future trouble for her
friend of friends, so I turned to her and said :
" No one will hurt Uncle Tom Andy Bill,
Mab, even if he doesn't go to church, so you
need not worry about it."
A happy, contented expression at once
came to the baby girl's face, and the ques-
tion of Uncle Tom Andy Bill's " damnation "
was settled, at least for the time being.
That evening at the supper table, Mab,
who sat next to Uncle Tom Andy Bill, whis-
pered :
" Are you going to church to-night ? "
" No. Why, Mab ? " asked Uncle Tom.
" Because maybe you'll tell us another
story," answered Mab.
" Did you like the one last night ? " asked
the story-teller.
" Yes," eagerly responded Mab.
" Why ? "
" Because it frightened me and made me
feel so nice and shivery, and made my feet
cold."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 31
Uncle Tom Andy Bill laughed softly, and
said :
" Those surely are delightful sensations.
We'll see about it after supper."
" Let's hurry and eat," said Die, and every
one, including myself, did hurry. .
After supper the boys eagerly built a huge
fire in the fireplace. Mab got Uncle Tom's
pipe, drew her chair close to his side, and a
most flattering hush fell upon the expectant
audience.
Tom Andy Bill silently smoked his pipe,
and the audience soon got restless. After
waiting a few minutes, Mab came across the
hearth to me, and said in a whisper that
could be heard all over the room :
" Tell him to please begin."
Mab, as usual, " got a laugh," as the actors
say. Uncle Tom laughed too, and said :
" I can't tell a story as it ought to be told.
I'm too ignorant and haven't the gift of "
A chorus of protests silenced the modest
one, and in a moment he continued :
" I don't know just what to tell you," said
he. " There are lots of things I might tell
you about. I am eager to tell you about the
Indian treasure, but so many things happened
32 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
to Balser and me both before and after we
learned about it that I am afraid I will have
to tell you several stories to let you know the
full history. After we learned about the
treasure, it, of course, was the one great
thought on our minds, but in our effort to
discover it, a great many adventures befell us ;
and I believe I will tell you the little history
of our boyhood life at that time, and bring
in the events in the order in which they
happened."
THE STORY
This evening I'll tell you a story about the
night Balser and I spent in a tree. I rec-
ollect it vividly. It was midwinter and it
was cold. Snow had come early that year,
and after it had covered the ground and fes-
tooned the trees, the cold weather began in
earnest and remained in earnest until spring.
The Indians have a proverb: "Cold weather
makes good fur," and they are right. Provi-
dence never sends an evil without at the same
time sending a compensating good. If He
sends a cold winter, He also gives the ani-
mals a thick, beautiful coat of fur to keep
them warm. After a week or two of very
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 33
cold weather, the fur grows thick and
glossy ; therefore pelts taken in a cold
season are far more valuable and beautiful
than those taken during a warm, open winter.
When the cold snap began, Balser and
I got our traps ready, polished our guns,
sharpened our knives, moulded bullets, and
invested every dollar we could raise in
powder. We also cut a great number of
hazel forks. These were forked branches of
the hazel bush, and were used in stretching
pelts. When a small, fur-bearing animal, as
the beaver, mink, or weasel, was caught, it was
killed by a blow on the head to avoid injur-
ing the pelt. Then a slit was made in the
skin of the hind legs of the animal, and the
pelt was drawn over the head as Mab pulls her
stocking over her foot and finds it wrong side
out when she gets it off. When the pelt was
removed from the body, the fur was inside
and the skin was shaped like a sack. Into
this sack we thrust the hazel forks, allowing
the prongs to spring apart and stretch the
pelt. It was then hung up to cure. It
would, of course, cure better in cold weather ;
in warm weather we had to treat it with
arsenic.
34 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I was only fifteen years old at the time oi
which I speak, but I bought the forty acres
of ground on which this house stands with
my share of the money realized from the sale
of the pelts taken by Balser and me that
winter. Of course the land was cheap.
One day, Balser and I being all ready,
we started out with the dogs, Tige and
Prince. We took a sleigh loaded with traps,
guns, tanned bearskins, potatoes, beans, corn-
meal, lard, butter, and all the provisions we
would need except meat. We could easily
kill quails, rabbits, and deer enough to keep
us in meat for six months if the weather
remained cold.
A donkey belonging to Balser drew the
sled. We called the donkey " Solomon "
because he looked so wise; and he in no
way belied his appearance or his name. He
had an enormous head, and was more of a
philosopher than the average school-teacher.
He was as peaceful as a Quaker, but, like
the Quakers, he could fight like forty wild-
cats if occasion arose, as you will agree
when I tell you the story of his fight with a
pack of wolves.
Balser, I, and the dogs started out before
I
A.
r v ?
(/
" Wk called the donkey ' Solomon ' "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 35
sun-up one morning, and by noon we
reached a small cabin that we had built on
the banks of Brandywine, eight or ten miles
distant from home. The cabin consisted of
one small room and a mud-plastered stick
chimney. The ground was our floor and
the clapboard roof was our ceiling ; there-
fore, although the logs were chinked tightly
with mud and grass, the cabin was hardly as
warm as an oven when the weather was at
its coldest, though it was cosey enough if the
wind did not blow.
During the summer and fall Balser and I
had prepared for this expedition by cutting a
huge pile of firewood and stacking it near
the cabin door. We also harvested a great
quantity of marsh grass that served to
make our beds, and to feed Solomon. The
donkey, however, was not confined to a diet
of marsh grass, for we took with us corn
and oats for the wise one. Balser said that
oats was good brain food, and that Solomon's
great brain would need sustenance.
Thus provided for, Solomon on Brandy-
wine was as happy a donkey as ever lived,
for he, following the example of his master,
seemed to love the wild life we were living
36 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
in the trackless forest. There was hay for
his manger and hay for his bed, and there
were corn and oats in plenty ; so after he was
installed in his little log stable, all he had to
do was to eat, sleep, and sing, and he did all
three with the entire energy of his forceful
nature. At times, growing lonesome deep
in the night, he would sing to us from his
stable, nor would he cease until Balser
answered him in his own language ; then he
would go to sleep and sing no more till he
was hungry next morning. We needed no
alarm to waken us ; Solomon was a veritable
town clock, and no one could have slept
while he poured forth his soul in song.
Solomon's stable was built a hundred
yards south of our hut, very close to the
banks of the creek. Our purpose in building
it so far away was to use it, not only as
a stable, but as a magazine for our powder,
which we wished to store as far away as
possible from our fire. We wrapped the
powder keg in bearskins, and placed it just
inside the door of Solomon's stable.
I remember well our first winter day at the
cabin. Oh, but it was cold ! Our hands
and feet were like pieces of ice when we
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 37
reached our destination. Solomon had been
working very hard, and he was warm ; but
Balser declared when we stopped at the
cabin that the donkey was trying to tell us
that the tips of his long ears were frozen, so
we held a handful of snow to them for a
moment to draw out the frost, and Solomon
seemed grateful. He was of so grateful a
nature that I believe he would have thanked
us for a kick if he felt that it was admin-
istered for his good.
After arriving at the cabin, our first task
was to unhitch Solomon and put him in the
stable, which was as warm and cosey a
shelter as any donkey could ask; then we
gave him a good feed of corn and filled his
manger with sweet hay. Solomon, when
fairly installed, sang a little song of thanks-
giving and fell upon the corn and hay with a
zest that would have done your heart good
to see.
Then we carried a great armful of wood
into the cabin, spread our bed with sweet-
smelling hay, and lighted a roaring fire
in the fireplace. We warmed our hands
and feet, ate dinner, and brought the sled-
load of traps, provisions, etc., into the cabin,
38 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
where we stored them on shelves about the
walls. At four o'clock, everything being in
its place, we took our guns and went out to
kill a rabbit for supper. This was quickly
done. We skinned the rabbit, placed it on
the ice in the creek, and covered it with
snow to cool the meat; then we went into
the cabin, built up the fire afresh, and pre-
pared supper.
When the potatoes and corn-bread were
nearly baked, we brought in the rabbit, cut
it in pieces, and placed it on the coals to
broil. When the meat was well done, we
sat down on our chairs at the table and ate
our supper. My life, how we did eat ! You
notice I said we sat down on our chairs
at the table. The chairs were two small
stumps, and the table was a large one
standing between the chairs. These three
stumps we had left within the cabin. We
had smoothed the tops with a saw and had
chopped away all obtruding roots and bark.
When supper was finished, we sat gazing
into the fire, talking a little and dreaming a
great deal, until we were startled by a most
tremendous noise coming from a short way
down the creek. We sprang to our feet
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 39
somewhat frightened, but soon we laughed
and exclaimed :
" Solomon is singing for corn ! "
I went to the stable, led Solomon to the
creek, where we had cut a hole in the ice,
gave him a drink, took him back, fed him
his corn and fresh hay, made a soft, warm
bed for him to lie on, and closed his stable
door for the night.
When I got back to the cabin, Balser had
cleared up the supper table by the simple
process of throwing the scraps and the rab-
bit bones to the dogs.
Being very tired, we were almost ready
for bed. We each had a bearskin sleeping-
bag, so, after we had banked the fire, we
crept into our bags and slept until we heard
the voice of Solomon calling for corn. Next
day we placed our traps and began hunting.
I don't recollect that any adventure worth
telling befell us during the first two weeks of
our residence on Brandywine. The beaver
dams were all frozen in, and although there
were two large ones within a mile of us, we
had caught only three of the little animals
during the first fortnight. We had, how-
ever, killed a large number of minks, weasels,
40 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
and muskrats, and had taken no less than
six red foxes with the most beautiful coats
and brushes I have ever seen.
We had also killed a fat young bear, that
furnished meat for ourselves and the dogs,
and had shot two gray wolves. For the tails
of these wolves we would receive a bounty of
fifty cents each from the county, and the
wolf pelts, taken during the cold winter,
were so perfect that we hoped to receive not
less than a dollar apiece for them.
Aside from bear and beaver, the wolf was
the most valuable game we could take, but it
was also the hardest to find, the most diffi-
cult to kill when found, and the most dan-
gerous to pursue if found in packs. We
could set no trap that would take them.
We tried every way to conceal the traps, but
the wolves always scented the danger and
avoided it. To secure a wolfskin, one must
shoot the wolf.
For two weeks the story of our life was
the same from day to day. We breakfasted
soon after sun-up, visited our traps and
hunted until noon, stretched the pelts in
the afternoon, stored them in Solomon's
stable, ate our supper, sat before the great
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 41
blazing fire, talking and dreaming, crept into
our sleeping-bags, and slept until morning.
At the expiration of two weeks something
did happen.
One night Balser and I were sitting be-
fore the fire. We had killed a wolf that day.
" I wish we had a hundred wolf skins and
tails," said he.
" I'd like to have a thousand," said I.
" Tom Andy Bill, you always were a pig,"
returned Balser.
" If I'm going to be a pig at all, I'll be a
big one," said I. " You're a pig for wanting
a hundred wolf pelts. The only difference
between us is in size."
We laughed and continued to talk about
wolves until we were sleepy. Then we crept
into our bearskin bags and dreamed about
wolves.
In the middle of the night Balser wakened
me, saying :
" Listen to Solomon, Tom Andy Bill.
Something is wrong."
I listened and heard Solomon's plaintive
voice borne in upon the cold night air.
" He wants his corn," said I. " Confound
him, I wish he wouldn't get hungry so early."
42 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" It's not early," said Balser. " It is surely
not past midnight. Solomon is not singing
for corn. He is in trouble. Listen, Tom
Andy Bill, listen ! Wolves ! Wolves ! "
The dogs, sleeping in front of the fire, be-
gan to bark. I silenced them, and Balser
and I listened. Soon the howling of the
wolves began again, far away at first, but
coming nearer and nearer every moment.
Balser got out of his sleeping-bag, stirred the
fire to make a light, and reached for his gun,
powder-horn, and bullet bag. I quickly fol-
lowed his example.
The odor from the pelts in Solomon's
stable had attracted the wolves, and we must
go to the rescue of our friend and our treas-
ure. When we had taken down our guns,
we again paused to listen, and soon caught
the wolfish refrain. It seemed to be almost
upon us, and judging from the frightful noise
they made, we thought surely the woods
was full of them. In the lulls between
their spells of howling, we distinctly heard
Solomon calling wildly for help. There
was a note in his cry that was plainly
different from his corn song. We hesitated
to leave the cabin, for of all the dangers a
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 43
hunter has to encounter, a pack of hungry
wolves on a cold night is the greatest ; but
we could not leave Solomon and his treasure
to the mercy of the wolves. They would
soon tear down the poorly constructed door
of his stable and then good-by to Solo-
mon and all his glory! Hard pressed by
fear, we reluctantly marched to the rescue.
In the battle we were to fight, the dogs
would be of no help to us ; the wolves
would devour them before they could have a
chance even to bark. So we left them in
the cabin and shut the door upon them.
When we got outside, we found the night
very cold and clear. The moon was full and
the light upon the snow almost turned night
into day. At the door of Solomon's stable
we saw two wolves, and Balser said :
" By George, I believe there are only two
of them. Who would have thought that
two wolves could make all that noise ? "
" They didn't make it," said I. " There's
a big pack close by, you may depend on it,
and we had better stay near home. We'll
take a shot at our friends over there by the
stable door, but let's keep the way of retreat
clear to our own door."
44 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I was about to shoot when Balser said:
" Don't shoot from here, Tom Andy Bill.
If you miss the wolves, the bullet might go
through the door or between the logs of the
stable, and then poor old Solomon might
come to grief. Let us go around to the
other side, where we can shoot at the wolves
without endangering Solomon's life."
We went toward the other side of the
stable and soon found ourselves in the deep,
black forest. The stable was now between
us and the cabin, and I suggested to Balser
the danger of the pack cutting off our retreat.
By the time we were ready to shoot at the
wolves we had seen near the stable door,
they had disappeared, and we heard a fright-
ful din like the howling of a host of demons
let loose upon the world. The thing we had
feared had come to pass. The howling came
nearer and nearer. We knew then that a
large pack of wolves, led, probably, by one of
the two that had been at the stable door,
was approaching. We started to run for
the cabin, but we were too late ; the wolves
had cut off our retreat. When they saw us,
they at once charged in our direction. We
fired into the pack, but while we must have
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 45
killed at least two of their number, we did
not check their onrush.
" Run for your life and climb a tree," cried
Balser.
But I was running before he had uttered
the first word of warning, and he was com-
ing after me as fast as he could run. We
were so frightened that we made wonder-
ful speed and soon reached a tree that we
could climb, standing twenty yards from
Solomon's stable. We could not climb
rapidly, being encumbered with our guns, so
we threw them to the ground and started
up the tree without them. I went first. I
hurried to get out of Balser's way and was
none too quick, for the wolves were swarm-
ing about the tree just as Balser drew his
feet up out of their reach. I tell you, those
were busy times ! It did not take us long
to straddle a limb, and to thank heaven that
we were not on the ground. Had we been
at the root of the tree, the wolves would
have torn us to pieces in less time than Mab
could say " Christmas."
The limb on which Balser and I found
refuge was not more than ten feet from the
ground, and the hungry wolves, in their
46 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
desperation, sprang almost up to us. Of
course, they could not jump ten feet into the
air, but they forced us to draw up our feet
so quickly and so often that Balser said he
felt as though he were dancing a jig.
The noise the wolves made was terrifying
beyond anything you can imagine. We
were safe for the time, but we were terribly
frightened, and although we were accus-
tomed to danger, the strain upon our nerves
was all that we could bear.
I do not know what hour it was when we
climbed the tree, but I do know that it
seemed ages while we waited through the
long cold night, listening to the awful wolf
concert. After a long, shivering silence,
Balser said:
" Their noise is not pleasant, but I hope
the wolves will remain here howling at us. I
hope they will not think of attacking Solo-
mon. If he keeps still, perhaps they will
forget him, and when they find they cannot
reach us, they may go away."
" Don't build any hopes on their going
away," I answered ; " hungry wolves never
let up."
We sat in the tree hour after hour, and
" they forced us to draw up "ik fkkt so often that
Bai.ser said he ff.i.t as if he was hanging a jig"
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 47
the wolves did not desert us. My life, but it
was cold ! I thought my very blood would
freeze. We watched the east, hoping for
the break of dawn, but the sun seemed to be
stuck down below the horizon somewhere,
and I almost lost hope for the dawning of
another day. Balser and I sat very close to
each other to save what warmth we could.
When he grew drowsy, I did all in my power
to arouse him, and he performed the same
service for me. Great cold produces drowsi-
ness, and if sleep should overtake one under
conditions such as ours were, all hope is lost ;
one is apt to freeze to death. But in our
case there was a danger to be feared from
sleep greater than that of freezing. If we be-
came unconscious, we might fall to the ground,
and then the good Lord only could help us.
The pack of wolves howling under us was
the largest I ever saw. They numbered at
least fifteen. All of them seemed of tre-
mendous size, but the captain or leader was
the largest wolf I have ever seen. These
sagacious animals choose a leader with more
deliberation and, in many instances, with
more intelligence than we use in selecting
our officers.
48 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
At intervals the wolves would become
quiet for a time, and peace would reign for a
minute or two, but the big, hungry captain
would soon jump for us again, uttering a ter-
rific howl. He might have been called the
" howl master," for, like a singing teacher,
he gave the key-note and the wolf choir took
up the refrain.
I cannot at all describe to you the tedious,
frightful hours of fear and pain we passed in
the tree, but, after what seemed a lifetime of
agony, we saw a few faint gray streaks com-
ing in the east, followed by a blush of pink,
and soon the sun was up. We had hoped
that the wolves would leave at sunrise, but
they clung to us with a persistency that we
could have admired in a better cause.
" I believe they have forgotten Solomon,"
said I.
" Yes," answered Balser ; " I wish they
would forget us, but they never will. There's
not a house within five miles, and no one
will come near us till spring. I tell you,
Tom Andy Bill, if the wolves hold out much
longer, they will get one good square meal,
and its name will be Balser. I can't endure
this much longer. I'm almost dead, and I
know my toes are frozen."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 49
I, too, was hardly alive, but I spoke cheer-
ingly when my chattering teeth would allow
me to speak at all, and said :
"You're not half dead yet, Balser, and
you'll see the wolves will go away before
noon."
44 No, they won't," declared Balser. 44 They
howled around father's palisade for two whole
days, trying to get at our sheep. One wolf,
if alone, will howl and run away, but a dozen
will howl to keep each other's courage up
and will hang on like grim death."
Soon after sun-up Solomon began to sing
for corn. Poor beast ! He did not know the
true state of affairs or he would have sung
for danger. The donkey's voice caught the
attention of the wolf leader. He stood for
a moment with his ears cocked forward ;
then he started for the stable, and the pack
followed, howling like mad.
The real sum total of a man's life seems
to be made up of a multitude of little things,
as the vast ocean beach is made up of tiny
grains of sand. Even the few great things
that happen in his life seem to hang upon an
insignificant act done or left undone. Upon
one of these little acts hung our fate, and
50 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Solomon's, at the dawning of that bright
winter morning.
The little peg upon which our fate hung
was the fact that Balser and I had swung the
door of Solomon's stable to open in instead
of out. The door consisted of small poles
spliced together and swung by thongs of
wild grape-vines to a small upright post that
constituted one side of the door frame. The
construction was rough and not very strong.
Had the door opened outward, the wolves
could not have battered it down by jumping
against it, and while Solomon would perhaps
have been safer, we should have been lost;
for Balser was right, the wolves would not
have left us. We could not have held out
much longer in the tree, and there's no "give
up" to a pack of hungry wolves. They
would have remained with us, I do believe,
till doomsday, had we held out so long, if
they had been unable to break in the flimsy
door of Solomon's stable. When we built
the stable we had intended to hang the door
swinging outward, but in our haste to finish
our work, we hung it swinging in the stable,
and after it was hung we did not care to take
it down.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 51
When the wolves left us, they made a dash
for Solomon, and soon his corn song changed
to a cry for help. The wolves circled about
the stable, searching for the weakest place
and howling like demons. Don't tell me
a wolf can't reason. The leader examined
every log and opening in the structure and
discovered the door almost as quickly as a
man would have found it. We could see
the captain and his pack clearly, for by this
time the sun was high above the horizon.
Our hearts ached for poor Solomon, for we
loved him and we felt that his fate was
sealed.
The wolves seemed to hold a consultation
for a moment at the door ; then the leader
said something to the pack, and they all ran
back from the stable a distance of perhaps
sixty feet. Then, like a rock from a cata-
pult, they threw themselves upon the stable
door. The grape-vine hinges were tough,
and the first onslaught failed to break them.
Disappointed in their attack, the wolves
seemed to hold a second council of war.
" Rub my hands, Tom Andy Bill," said
Balser, hurriedly ; " rub them and pound
them ! Do anything to bring back the blood
52 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
so that I can grip the tree and slide down
to get the guns."
I belabored poor Balser r s half -frozen hands
and soon restored the life to them. Then
he quickly slipped down the tree, handed
the guns up to me, and made ready to climb
back to our perch upon the limb. While
he was standing at the foot of the tree,
rubbing his hands, the wolves started in our
direction.
" The wolves, the wolves ! " I cried ; " they
are coming! Hurry or they will be on
you ! "
Balser grasped the tree, but his hands
were so cold and he was so nearly frozen
that he made poor headway. He thought
he was lost, for he knew the wolves had seen
him, and were coming toward him like a
howling gray wave of an angry sea. I, too,
expected Balser to be torn to pieces before
my eyes, but for some reason the wolves
paused a second or two, and I, catching Bal-
ser by the hand, pulled him up to safety.
The powder-horns and bullet bags were
hanging by their strings about our necks,
so when Balser was once more seated beside
me, we rubbed each other's stiff hands, until
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 53
we manipulated them into a condition suffi-
ciently supple to load our guns.
The wolves howled at our tree for only a
moment. Having failed to catch Balser, they
returned to their attack upon Solomon's door,
and repeated their former tactics. They re-
treated fifty or sixty feet and then made a
mighty onrush with a howl in concert that
must have frozen poor Solomon's blood.
When the wolf wave dashed against the
door the second time, it partially gave way,
but did not fall in. In their effort to com-
plete their work, the wolves gathered about
the door in a dense mass. By that time
Balser and I had loaded our guns, and when
the wolves were huddled together, we fired
into them. We must have killed at least
two, but our shots had no apparent effect
upon the attacking force. We loaded and
fired again, but we did not in the least dis-
turb the enemy. Again the pack retreated,
and again they rushed upon the frail door.
This time it fell in, and we felt that it was
all over with Solomon.
But, intimate as we had been with Solo-
mon, we did not fully know him, nor had we
any adequate idea of the tremendous reserve
54 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
power in his heels. The door, fortunately,
was narrow, and only two or three wolves
could pass through it at the same time.
When it fell, the wolves rushed in, but they
rushed out again, one by one, in quick suc-
cession. They came out as if they had been
shot out of a gun, and several of them fell
many feet away after describing a beautiful
curve over the backs of their friends outside
of the stable.
With the rocket-like exit of each wolf
Balser and I caught glimpses of Solomon's
twinkling hoofs, elevated at an angle which
indicated that their owner was trying to
stand on his head. The hoofs were shod
with sharp steel calks for ice travelling, and
they must have inflicted terrible punishment
upon those wolves that were unfortunate
enough to become acquainted with them.
Again and again the. wolves attacked the
brave donkey, but his heels soon taught
them caution and they became wary. Per-
sistently they kept up the battle, and it
seemed as if Solomon could not hold out
much longer against such odds. Soon two
or three wolves would effect an entrance,
and would pull poor old Solomon down
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 55
to death. In the midst of the unequal con-
flict, I noticed a large, bulky object fly out
through the door from Solomon's heels. It
fell perhaps thirty feet from the stable and
rolled a few feet farther, stopping thirty-five
or forty feet from us.
" There goes our powder keg ! " cried Bal-
ser ; " Solomon has kicked it out."
The wolves left the stable door and fell
upon the powder keg. At first we could
not understand what use they could make
of the powder, but we soon remembered
that we had wrapped the keg in bearskins to
keep the powder dry, and we knew that the
wolves were devouring the skins. The hun-
gry beasts pounced upon the keg and formed
a pyramid of wolves above it. They fought
for the bearskins, and were piled on top of
one another like a mass of swarming bees.
I drew up my gun and fired into the mass.
My shot produced no apparent effect. Bal-
ser fired immediately afterward, and his shot
produced a decided effect a most wonder-
ful effect. A terrific explosion that almost
knocked us from the tree followed Balser's
shot, and the pack of wolves was nearly ex-
terminated. When the smoke drifted away,
56 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
we saw wolves dead and wounded lying about
us in all directions, and not a live, unwounded
wolf was to be seen. Those that had escaped
death or mutilation had fled in terror.
We climbed down from the tree, ran to
the house for the axe and hatchet, and killed
more wolves in five minutes than I have
ever killed in five years.
"How do you suppose it happened?" I
asked of Balser.
" My bullet must have struck the powder
keg," he answered. " Perhaps the powder
was ignited by friction, or a lighted piece of
gun wad may have clung to the bullet. I'm
sure I don't know how it happened ; but
without it, Solomon, at least, would by this
time have been numbered with his fathers."
After we had killed the wounded wolves
I think there were eight of them we
stood in amazement, hardly able to believe
that we were alive, when suddenly we were
aroused by the corn song of Solomon. We
went into the stable to feed him, and found
that sagacious donkey as calm and quiet as
if nothing at all unusual had occurred.
" How did you happen to think of kick-
ing out the powder keg ? " Balser asked of
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 57
Solomon, while he was giving him his corn.
Solomon simply wagged his ears knowingly,
as if to say :
" Let me alone for thinking of the right
thing at the right time, and doing it, too."
CHAPTER III
WYANDOTTE, THE INDIAN
One cold evening we were all sitting
around the fire waiting for our story. Sev-
eral suggestive hints had fallen from eager
members of the audience. Mab had coax-
ingly lifted her chubby little hand to Uncle
Tom Andy Bill's knee two or three times,
but the curtain didn't rise. The old man
sat smoking, and we were all very much
afraid there would be no story that evening.
All eyes were turned toward Mab for help,
and soon she began to feel that the respon-
sibility of the situation rested on her little
shoulders, so she climbed into Uncle Tom's
lap, put her arms around his neck, and whis-
pered in his ear:
" Please, please, Uncle Tom, tell us an-
other story."
Then she slid down between his knees,
resumed her rocking-chair by his side, caress-
ingly took the favorite finger in her hand,
and Uncle Tom Andy Bill was conquered.
58
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 59
THE STORY
I'm blest if I know what to give you to-
night, but I believe I'll tell you about our
first meeting with Wyandotte, the Indian.
It was from him we had the hint of the won-
derful Indian treasure that afterward led us
into so much trouble. Our first meeting
with him occurred five or six days before
Balser and I had our terrific fight with three
bears. I'll tell you about the fight, too, but
as our meeting with Wyandotte occurred
first, I will begin by telling you about him.
After Solomon's victory over the wolves
(it was Solomon's victory, and we had little
to do with the glorious affair), we led a
peaceful life, and nothing occurred during
ten days that would make even Mab's little
toe cold, except the weather. My life ! but
it was cold, and Balser and I hugged the
fire every night.
After Solomon kicked out the powder
keg, we went home and bought another keg
on credit, for we had taken enough pelts to
pay for a great deal of powder.
We built a strong door to Solomon's
stable, though we had no fear of another
60 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
attack from wolves. Those that escaped
would tell other wolves of the sad catastrophe
that befell their pack, and they, in turn,
would tell others. The news would travel
like wildfire throughout all wolf-land, and no
temptation would induce a wolf that had
heard of the explosion to visit the spot*
This statement may seem to be overdrawn,
but I have known a great many wolves in
my day, and I am thoroughly convinced that
they warn each other of danger. I don't ask
any one else to believe it, but / believe it.
No animal is more anxious to take care
of itself than a wolf. For caution, cunning,
hunger, and general depravity, I place the
wolf at the head of all four-footed animals.
It has the start of some that walk on two
legs, except, perhaps, in the matter of de-
pravity. In that respect, of course, we'll
have to give the palm to man.
Nevertheless, we barricaded Solomon's
stable so strongly that he could have with-
stood a siege from all the wolves in Indiana,
and the wise donkey fully appreciated our
efforts for his protection.
We fortified our own house, too, and
although the weather was terribly cold, we
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 61
soon became used to the freezing tempera-
ture, and I believe that never in my life was
I happier or more contented than in our
cabin on Brandywine. Every morning we
visited our traps and hunted until late dinner-
time ; then we prepared the pelts, stretched
them on thongs, and hung them up to cure.
This kept us busy until supper-time.
Before eating we changed our buckskin
coats and trousers for woollen clothes,
scrubbed ourselves thoroughly with soap and
water, for the odor of the pelts was anything
but pleasant, and the rest of the evening
belonged to us and to the fire.
Deer meat, rabbits, quail, wild turkeys,
and pheasants, the product of our guns and
traps, hung in plenty from the limbs of near-
by trees, well out of reach of foxes and other
prowlers, and the meat, being frozen, was
kept sweet by the cold. When we were
ready for supper, which was our one great
meal, we went out to our forest pantry,
selected the game we wanted on our bill of
fare, and proceeded to cook it. We baked
potatoes in the ashes, made sweet, yellow
corn pone in our Dutch oven, broiled a juicy
piece of venison, a rabbit, or a half-dozen
62 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
quails, and I tell you, we had a supper fit for
a king.
After supper we sat on our stump chairs
before the fire, cracking walnuts, hazelnuts,
and hickory-nuts for dessert. We loved to
hear the wind howling through the trees,
and to hear the snow or sleet dashing
against our roof, for we were cosey and warm
before our big, talkative fire, and we knew
that Solomon, half covered by his soft bed of
hay, was snoring happily in his warm stable
near by.
One day two hunters wandered by our
cabin, and told us that Raster's barn over on
Blue had burned a week before. They said
that an old Indian had been seen in the
vicinity of the barn, and the sheriff of the
county was hunting for him to arrest him for
burning it. That evening, after supper,
Balser and I were sitting before the fire. I
was cracking nuts and Balser was trying to
smoke tobacco in a pipe that he had whittled
from a brier root. Oh ! but he was sick
but that has nothing to do with the story.
" I don't believe Raster's barn was burned
by an Indian," said Balser. " There are a
lot of white vagabonds loafing about Blue
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 63
River who are a great deal worse than the
Indians."
" You're right, Balser," said I. " Some
white folks hate the Indians, and seem to
forget that God made them. If we would
treat them right, they would not molest us.
Our white trash steal from them, abuse them,
and kill them ; and when an Indian retaliates,
we all grow righteously indignant and want
to exterminate the whole race of red men.
It's a shame, Balser. When a thief steals
something, he does not cry, ' Stop thief ! '
but he screams, ' Indian ! Indian ! ' If a
white rascal has a grudge against his neigh-
bor and burns the neighbor's barn, he im-
mediately says he saw an Indian prowling
about, and the sheriff and all the settlement
turn out to hunt down the poor savage. Any
Indian they find will serve their purpose
and he is made to bear the sins of his white
brother."
Several days passed. We had forgotten
all about Raster's barn, and thought nothing
more about the wrongs of the Indian. The
cold weather had begun to break, though it
was still very cold. I especially remember
one stormy day. We had taken several
64 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
beavers that day, and had been unusually
successful with other game. The sun was
going down as Balser and I were walking
toward the cabin, after hanging the result of
our day's work in Solomon's stable. The sky
in the west was an angry, black red, and the
wind blew in sullen, fitful gusts. Dark,
threatening clouds flew rapidly overhead, as
if bent on an errand of mischief, and the day
seemed to be closing with a frown and a growl.
" We'll have rain before an hour," said
Balser. " Then when the sun is down and
the weather turns colder, look out for snow
and sleet and a blizzard."
" We'll be comfortable anyway," said I,
" and Solomon is snug and warm and happy."
" Yes," returned Balser, " but think of the
deer, rabbits, quail, and the other poor wild
creatures. How the poor things will suffer
and die by the hundreds. I am sorry for all
but the wolf. Many a tragedy will take
place under the bare sweetbrier bush before
morning, and in the spring, the bush will
bloom as sweetly as if it had never seen the
tragedy at all. May the Lord have pity on
any poor human being who is out without
shelter this night."
Wyandotte
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 65
Balser was right. We had hardly carried
in our wood for the night, when the rain
began in a cold, freezing drizzle. Soon the
wind rose in moaning waves, and dashed the
rain upon our clapboard roof until it seemed
to us that the lost souls of a past eternity were
crying for comfort and help.
" Oh, what a night ! " said Balser, holding
his hands to the fire. " Rain in winter is as
bad as fever in August. The wind will con-
tinue to rise, and then the rain will change to
sleet and snow ; but, as you say, we will be
warm and asleep, and by morning the woods
will look like a forest of crystal."
We ate our supper and sat before the fire
later than usual, dreading to leave it, for our
cabin was a much better protection against
cold than against the wind. When we were
ready for bed that night, we did not bank the
coals, but rolled in a large hickory log, in-
tending to replenish the fire during the
night. We crept into our sleeping-bags, but
did not go to sleep quickly. Soon the wind
rose to a gale and we heard the sleet beating
down on the roof. I could not resist looking
out upon the storm, and I was rewarded by a
view of the worst night I ever beheld. I was
66 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
glad enough to get back to my warm sleeping-
bag, and Balser grumbled drowsily :
" I hope you're satisfied now, Tom Andy
Bill, and will go to sleep. Caesar ! how the
wind does howl and the sleet beat down ! "
We lay for a little time, shivering at the
mere thought of conditions outside, but pres-
ently went to sleep and there was no storm
for us.
We had no clock and could not tell the
hour, but it must have been near midnight
when I was awakened. I thought I heard a
knock on the door. I started up and threw
the bearskin hood back from my ears. All
was silent, and I concluded that I had been
dreaming. I was about to cover my head
and go to sleep again when I distinctly
heard another knock on the door, as if some
one were pounding the boards with a club.
I stretched out my hand and wakened
Balser.
" Some one is knocking at the door," I
whispered. He at once came out of his bag
and took down his gun. I quickly followed
his example, and waited for the knock to be
repeated. Presently it came again.
" Who's there ? " asked Balser.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 67
" Let dead man in," came in moaning
tones through the door.
The form of the request seemed so thor-
oughly in keeping with the night that we
thought a ghost was demanding admittance.
We were not afraid of bears and wolves, but
no man lives who is not afraid of a ghost,
even though he knows that no such thing
exists. There is a point in every man's na-
ture when reason cannot overtake the super-
stitions that were blood of his blood and
bone of his bone when his ancestors were
savages.
Balser and I were frightened; but when
the answer came, I opened the door cau-
tiously, while Balser stood with his gun at
full cock, ready to kill the ghost should one
attack us. In place of a ghost we found a
poor, old, half-frozen Indian. He almost fell
into our cabin. I caught him as he tottered
and led him to the fire. His blanket was
like a cloak of ice, his moccasins were hard
as wooden shoes, his long, tangled hair was a
mass of icicles, and the poor old fellow was
almost dead.
We asked no questions, but proceeded to
divest him of his frozen blanket and to make
68 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
him comfortable. We had several extra
bearskins that were beautifully tanned and
very soft and warm. We wrapped these
about the Indian and placed him before the
fire. He was almost unconscious, but when
the frost was thawed out of him, conscious-
ness returned, and he moaned out five words,
" No eat since two days."
A few sweet potatoes and a piece of corn
pone were left from supper. Balser brought
these from the shelf and placed them before
the Indian. He fell upon them like a
famished wolf, but Balser allowed him to eat
only a small portion. I took a dressed quail
from a shelf and was about to hang it over the
fire to broil, but the Indian snatched it from
my hand and ate it raw, bones and all, before
I had time to recover from my astonishment.
We built up the fire, and the Indian
stretched himself out in front of it. He lay
on the floor moaning, but soon after we had
covered him with bearskins, he seemed to
sleep, and we crept into our bags, though for
a long time there was no sleep in our eyes.
Dogs hate Indians, and Tige and Prince
growled viciously at first. We silenced them
with a switch, and before long they tolerated
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 69
the situation, though they were not at all
satisfied with it.
Toward morning Balser and I slept, but
we were soon awakened by the Indian, who
was talking loudly in a strange incoherent
mixture of Indian and English. We hur-
riedly got out of our sleeping-bags, and
found our guest trying to rise to his feet.
The poor fellow groaned and placed his
hand on his breast as if in great pain. His
hands, that had been so cold earlier in the
night, were now burning hot, and we soon
discovered that he was very ill with a fever.
We induced him to lie down again, and tried
to cover him with a soft bearskin, but he
angrily tossed it off. A sick Indian on our
hands was no trifling matter, though we were
not sorry we had taken him in. We were
glad. Soon we were very glad. I hold to
the belief that everything of good a man does
in this world returns to him in some form,
and that every moment of suffering one un-
necessarily brings upon another will, soon or
late, fall back upon his own head.
All that day and the next night, the Indian
tossed in a raging fever. Much of the time
he talked in his delirium, and much that he
70 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
said was spoken in English. The evening
after he arrived he was lying on a soft bed
of hay that Balser had made for him in a
corner of the cabin. We had finished supper
and were cracking nuts for dessert. The
weather had not improved and the blizzard
was still raging, but we had piled on great
armfuls of wood and the cabin was cosey, for
the fire was doing its full and glorious duty.
The Indian lay unconscious of blizzard or fire,
muttering, talking, and silent by turns.
" What's your name ? " asked Balser, ad-
dressing the Indian.
Balser spoke in jest and did not expect an
answer, but to our surprise one came.
" Wyandotte," said the Indian, speaking as
one who talks in his sleep.
" Where are you from ? " asked Balser,
pleased with the success of his first question.
Again came the word, "Wyandotte."
" Where are you going ? "
" Wyandotte," answered the Indian.
" Why are you going there ? " asked Balser.
" To get the gold, gold, gold."
At the time we attached no importance
to his words, but Balser continued his cate-
chism.
"He angrily tossed off the bearskin"
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 71
" What gold ? " he asked.
The Indian made no reply. After a long
pause, Balser laughingly asked :
Where is the gold ? "
" In the home of Wyandotte Wyolyo," an-
swered the Indian. Then he grew excited and
spoke rapidly, but all that he said was uttered
in the Indian language, which we did not
understand sufficiently to catch his meaning,
though we could partially understand an
Indian when he spoke slowly.
The Indian was very sick for five days,
and we nursed him carefully. At the end
of that time the fever left him and he quickly
recovered, but he was very weak, and we
asked him to remain in our cabin until he
was strong. I confess that our invitation
was not given out of pure sympathy. We
hoped to be able to make him talk of the
treasure, but we knew that we would have
to go about it cautiously, for an Indian is by
nature extremely wary and very suspicious.
We, of course, had little faith in the
theory that the gold of which Wyandotte
had spoken was anything more than a golden
dream, but his words had put the dream into
our heads, and while we did not expect to
72 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
gain anything from Wyandotte, it would
cost us nothing to keep him, and there
might be more truth in the words uttered
in his delirium than we supposed. There-
fore we were very kind to Wyandotte, partly
because we were sorry for him and liked the
old fellow, but chiefly because the gold bug
had got into our bonnets, and we hoped that
the dream might, by some wonderful stroke
of fortune, become a glorious reality.
Two weeks after the Indian had come to
our cabin, a deputy sheriff of the county
rode up to our door. Balser and I were
stretching pelts outside the cabin, and
Wyandotte was lying inside before the fire.
We were standing near the door, which was
open, and the Indian heard all that was
said.
" Hello, boys," said the deputy sheriff.
" Did you hear about Raster's barn burn-
ing?"
" Yes, we heard about it," I answered. I
knew the sheriff was hunting the Indian
who was supposed to have burned the barn,
and I knew he would take Wyandotte if he
saw him, so I stepped to the door and partly
closed it
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 73
" An Indian burned it," said the deputy
sheriff. " I heard there was one up this
way. Have you seen a redskin prowling
about here ? "
Balser, who was always quick with an
answer, said :
" No, we haven't seen an Indian prowling
about here."
You notice he did not say he had not seen
an Indian. He said he had not seen one
prowling about, and he told the truth, for
the Indian had not been out of the cabin.
We wanted to save Wyandotte, because we
did not believe he had burned Raster's barn;
but we also wanted to win his gratitude, for
the magic word " gold " was ringing in our
ears, and we hoped to coax the secret from
him if he had one.
The deputy rode away and we went into
the cabin.
" Did you hear what the deputy sheriff
said ? " asked Balser.
" I hear. He want me. I no burn barn,"
answered Wyandotte.
" I don't believe you burned the barn," I
said ; " and if I can save you from the clutches
of these fellows, I mean to do it."
74 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
A long pause ensued, and Wyandotte
said:
" Indian remember, too. What you call ? "
He meant to say, " What is your name ? "
" My name is Tom Andy Bill Addison," I
answered, " and this boy's name is Balser
Brent"
" Tomandybilladdison," repeated the Ind-
ian, going over the name many times and
pronouncing it as one word. He remained
silent for a long time, as if he were thinking,
and then spoke slowly, hesitatingly : " I re-
member, too ; remember long time. Indian's
memory for good comes again and again like
the rains in the spring, and his memory for
bad comes like the lightning, not often, but
sure to kill. Tomandybilladdison and Balser-
brent been good to Indian. Indian sure to
remember. Maybe some long day he pay
back again in gold, maybe."
" What is your name ? " asked Balser.
" Maybe Wyandotte; maybe some other
name ; not know, only maybe."
" Where is Wyandotte ? " asked Balser.
" Here," replied the Indian, pointing to the
spot on which he stood.
" But where is the place that you call the
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 75
home of Wyandotte Wyolyo ? You spoke of
it the other night when you were sick," said
Balser.
" Oh, that sick talk. Sick Indian got no
sense."
We did not agree with him, but we pushed
the matter no further, knowing that our
questions would put him on his guard.
CHAPTER IV
A BEAR FIGHT IN A SNOWDRIFT
A day or two after the conversation with
Wyandotte, Balser and I had our fight with
the three bears, and this was how it came
about.
We rose early one morning, and I went
out to feed and water Solomon. When I
took him to the creek where we had cut a
hole in the ice for him to drink, I noticed
bear tracks in the snow on the bank near the
water hole, from which a bear evidently had
been drinking. When I had taken Solomon
back to the stable, I went to the cabin and
asked Wyandotte to go with me to the water
hole and give me his opinion about the age
of the bear tracks, although I was sure they
had not been there the night before. The
Indian went with me, and after closely examin-
ing the tracks, he said :
" Ugh ! Big bear ! Heap big bear !
Wounded lame in one leg hind leg."
76
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 77
How the Indian obtained all his informa-
tion from the half-blurred tracks, I don't
know, but he seemed sure of what he said,
and I unhesitatingly believed him. If we
could kill this bear, it would be a stroke of
great good luck for us. Its skin would be
worth ten shillings and its meat would not
only furnish us food for the dogs, but would
surely bring us five dollars at the town of
Blue River.
We had seen but one bear since the cold
weather began. These curious animals eat
ravenously in the summer and fall, and grow
fat. When the very cold weather comes on,
they seem to be aware of its approach, so they
seek a cave or a hollow tree and go to sleep
until pleasant weather returns. Frequently,
when they cannot find a cave or a hollow
tree, they go to sleep under a cliff where the
snow is apt to drift, and there they hibernate
for a time beneath the snow.
In very cold countries, bears sometimes
sleep for four months; but our winters are
comparatively short, and two weeks is a long
hibernating period in this climate. While
this sleep lasts the bear lives on its fat, accu-
mulated during the feeding season. We had
78 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
not expected to find a bear prowling about,
and the tracks were a most welcome surprise.
This one probably had been disturbed in its
dreams.
We lost no time in eating breakfast, you
may be sure ; and when we had finished, we
looked carefully to our guns, bullets, and
powder-horns, gave our knives a keen edge
on the whetstone, and started on the trail of
the bear. Tige and Prince were delighted
and danced about us in great glee. They
seemed to know that something besides
mink and muskrat was in the wind. When
we took up the trail, Wyandotte wanted to
go with us; but he was not strong, and we
told him to stay at home to watch the cabin
and stretch a lot of pelts that we had left
uncared for over night.
We easily followed the tracks over a route
that wound in all directions through the
woods, but we did not so easily overtake the
bear. By noon we were hungry and pretty
tired, for it is hard work walking through
snow over which a thin crust of ice has been
frozen. We had taken our dinner with us,
and shortly after noon we rested and ate.
Of course Tige and Prince got nothing to
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 79
eat, although they danced about us and
begged eagerly for just one little mouthful.
They gave us to understand distinctly that
they were very hungry, and with water
streaming from their mouths, they watched
every bite we took. It was cruel not to feed
them, for we had given them no breakfast;
but if we satisfied their hunger, they would
not only become lazy, but their sense of smell
would become less keen and they would be
of no use to us in spooring.
If we should find the bear or should give
up trying to find it, Tige and Prince would
get their suppers at once. We hoped to
feed them on bear meat, but if we failed in
that, we would kill a rabbit for them.
Frequently the dogs were tempted to chase
a rabbit and secure their own dinner, but
they knew if they even so much as barked
at a rabbit, they would receive a terrible
thrashing ; so the faithful friends went hungry
for our sake, and that was more than we
would have done for them.
Balser and I were very hungry, so we ate
all our dinner and saved nothing for the
poor dogs nor for ourselves later on. The
Indians have a saying, " The man who eats
80 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
all he has at one meal may eat nothing at the
next." Balser and I were sorry that evening
that we had been so greedy at noon, for we
were very hungry before we had another
meal, as you shall hear. After dinner we
again took up the spoor, and the dogs, who
understood that their dinner depended upon
finding the bear, gave us a rapid lead.
This adventure happened early in Janu-
ary when the days were short, and Balser
and I were so intent on our pursuit that we
did not notice the sun until it was almost
down. We had lost the tracks an hour
earlier.
" We'd better be turning for home, Tom
Andy Bill," said Balser. " It will soon be
dark, and when the light gives out we can't
see our tracks home."
" Right you are," I answered, a feeling of
uneasiness suddenly coming over me. " I'm
blest if I know where we are."
"Neither do I," answered Balser; "but if
we start at once, we can follow our tracks
until dark, and then we'll have to make the
rest of our way home as best we can."
While we stood debating the situation, we
heard Tige and Prince barking furiously
"WK HAD DISTURBED THUS SLEEP, AND THEY COULD NOT GET
THEIR EYES OPEN "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 81
quite a distance ahead of us. The dogs had
been running rapidly, and we could not see
them ; but we knew they were just beyond a
small hill that stood three hundred yards
ahead of us, a short distance to the right.
The barking of the dogs drove all thoughts
of home-going out of our heads, and we hur-
ried forward, hoping that the bear was at
bay. After we had turned the bend around
the base of the hill we did not go over it
we saw Tige and Prince barking furiously
at nothing. When we came up to them,
they were standing at the foot of the hill
barking toward it, but we could not see even
a rabbit track. In front of the dogs there
was apparently nothing but a smooth, snow-
covered hillside, ten or twelve feet high.
We stood watching the dogs, and soon
Balser said, " Tige, you're a fool ; " but Tige
seemed to answer back, " I'm not a fool."
The dogs continued to bark furiously.
Their hair rose angrily and they faced the
snow-covered hillside so persistently, that we
thought surely they had gone crazy from
hunger. But it often happens that when we
don't understand other men and dogs
we call them crazy. Everything great that
82 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
has been accomplished has been done by
crazy men, if the ignorant people who have
lived about them are to be believed. Men
said Galileo was crazy because he declared
the earth was round and revolved about the
sun. All the world thought Columbus was
crazy when he insisted that he could sail west-
ward and reach the land of the East. Even
the English Parliament thought Stephenson
was crazy when he said that the steam loco-
motive and the railroads could accomplish all
he claimed. Morse was crazy, many persons
said, when he announced that he could send
a message a thousand miles in a few seconds.
The truth is, a fool thinks every man but
himself insane. Balser and I were fools to
think that our dogs were crazy. We were so
vain, we could not believe that they knew
better than we did what they were about. I
soon grew disgusted watching the apparently
foolish dogs barking at the white hillside,
and said :
" Come, Balser, let us start home. These
fool dogs will keep us here for a week if we
listen to them. The sun will be down in
half an hour, and in an hour it will be dark.
I'm cold and hungry and I'm going home."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 83
" All right, I'm with you," answered Balser;
so we fastened the gun straps to our guns,
slung them over our shoulders, and started
home.
When the dogs saw us going, they loudly
protested. They said as plainly as if they
were speaking English, " Don't go, you fools,
don't go." Of course it was very insolent in
our dogs to call us fools, but after all they
were right. We did not heed them and con-
tinued to retrace our steps. The dogs refused
to follow us, and after we had gone a little
way, Balser whistled for them. They were
well-trained animals and always responded
instantly to their master's call ; but on this
occasion they paid no attention to it, and we
could hear their voices coming faintly to us
from the other side of the little hill, which was
now quite a distance behind us. Balser whis-
tled again and again. Still the dogs barked,
but did not come in response to the call.
" If I have to go back for those crazy dogs,
I'll take a switch and lay it on till they'll
remember," said Balser. He waited for a
little time and said : " Hold my gun, Tom
Andy Bill. I'll cut a switch and teach those
fellows a lesson of obedience."
84 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Balser broke a switch from a bush and
started back to fetch the dogs. After he left
me I began to wonder if by any chance we
could be wrong and the dogs right. I had
the guns, so I hurriedly followed Balser, and
we turned the base of the hill together.
The dogs were still barking at the snow-
covered hillside. Nothing but the smooth
snow was visible. Balser, with his switch
lifted ready to strike, was almost up to the
dogs, when Tige I believe he was the
smartest dog that ever lived began to dig
furiously into the snow. Then Prince, who
was also a sensible dog, though always play-
ing u second fiddle " to Tige, began to make
the snow fly.
The dogs howled and whined in their
efforts to tell us something that was on their
minds, but we did not have sense enough to
know what they were saying. We sometimes
get angry at dumb brutes because they do
not understand what we say to them, but we
don't appreciate our own dumbness in failing
to understand what they say to us. They
understand us much better than we under-
stand them, and none but a cruel man will
beat them because of an ignorance which is
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 85
less than his own. But the dogs said so
much and said it so plainly that we began to
understand them.
" By Jove, Tom Andy Bill, this is not a
hillside. It's a great snowdrift," said Balser.
" The snow must be five or six feet deep in
there."
He threw away his switch, and we watched
the dogs burrowing into the drift. They
dug rapidly. Soon their heads disappeared
in the tunnel they were making, then their
bodies, and by and by nothing was visible
but the tips of their tails. They understood
the art of tunnel-making. They broke the
snow with their front feet and threw it back ;
then they stood on their front feet and
with their hind feet sent the snow flying
out through the mouth of the tunnel behind
them.
Balser and I supposed that the dogs would
find a frozen covey of quails, or perhaps a fox ;
but we let them have their own way, since
they seemed determined on it, and watched
the process of tunnel-building with ever in-
creasing interest.
As the dogs burrowed into the drift they
continued barking, and their voices came to
86 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
us in muffled howls and whines from be-
neath the snow. While we were watching
the white hillside, it suddenly rose in a little
mountain of snow, as if by a volcanic up-
heaval. I confess that I was frightened to
see the apparently solid earth acting in such
an unusual manner.
Give me my gun, quick, quick ! " cried
Balser. " Don't you know what it is ? "
I handed him his gun, still watching the
heaving hillside with a curiosity that bor-
dered on timidity.
"There's a bear under the snow," cried
Balser, "and he'll kill the dogs if we don't
help them. They can't fight under there
in such close quarters; and if there's a bear
there, it will claw them to pieces in no time."
Balser bravely waded into the snowdrift
toward the upheaval, and I followed close by
his side. Suddenly my foot touched some-
thing soft. Immediately another upheaval
took place, and I was a part of it. I felt
myself lifted into the air and then I felt my-
self go down backward, head first into the
snow. As I fell I saw Balser taking part in
another upheaval not six feet from me. I
shall never forget the comical expression
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 87
of surprise on his face, and although I was
frightened almost out of my wits, I could
not help laughing as I went under the snow.
I scrambled out pretty quickly, and as I was
brushing the snow from my face, Balser also
came up from the white depths. We had
lost our hats, and our guns were somewhere
at the bottom of the snow.
" By George," said Balser, sputtering and
blowing and rubbing the snow from his face,
" I believe there's a nest of bears in there !
Let's get our guns."
We waded back after our guns, and while I
was feeling about under the snow for mine,
a bear that seemed to be about two sizes
larger than a mule rose right out of the
drift not two feet in front of me, and shook
himself. I left my gun where it was. You
see I didn't want it as badly as I had thought
I did.
The snowdrift where I had fallen was
breast deep, and I could not make a rapid
retreat, though I tried as hard as I ever tried
in my life. I was very busy, but I had time
to glance toward Balser, and saw, standing
in front of him, another monster bear that
had just risen from the snow. At the same
88 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
instant there was an upheaval of snow be-
tween us, and a third bear showed himself,
apparently ready for fight.
This all happened in a few seconds. I
tried to go backward, but stepped on one
of the dogs and fell. As I went under the
snow, my bear came down on top of me,
and I thought my day had come. The
dogs were under the snow and, of course,
could help neither me nor themselves. I,
too, was completely under the snow, but
worse still I was under the bear, and it
seemed to weigh a ton. I expected every
instant to feel its great horny claws in my
flesh, or to have my bones crushed between
its fearful jaws, but to my surprise nothing
of the kind happened. I could not move,
and I concluded the bear was trying to
smother me to death.
After a long time it seemed long to me,
but it could not have been many seconds
I heard one of the dogs growling near my
head. Then I felt the bear trying to rise. I
crawled from under him as quickly as possible
and made the effort of my life to get away.
I succeeded, and when I gained my feet, there
stood two of the bears rubbing their eyes, but
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 89
there was no Balser, no dogs, and no third
bear. I concluded that Balser and the third
bear were engaged in a death struggle under
the snow, so I hurried to the spot where Bal-
ser had disappeared.
Just as I started, Balser rose from the
snow and his bear quickly rose beside him.
Balser held his long knife in his hand and
was covered with blood. There had been a
death struggle under the snow, sure enough.
I thought Balser was killed. I helped him
out of the drift and anxiously inquired if he
was hurt.
" I don't know," he answered, " but the
bear is hurt. Look out for him."
Hardly were the words out of his mouth
when the wounded bear came towards us.
Balser, knife in hand, looked like the incarna-
tion of rage. Instead of running from the
bear he ran toward it, and the fight that had
begun under the drift was finished above the
snow. Balser struck the bear with his long
knife just back of the shoulder ; then he
sprang behind the brute and struck it again
and again. The dogs, having extricated
themselves, came to his aid, and I then en-
tered the combat. Four against one did not
90 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
seem fair, especially as the bear was hardly
awake, but " needs must when Old Nick
drives," and so we killed the bear.
The other two bears were still standing up-
right in the snowdrift, rubbing their sleepy
eyes. Poor brutes ! We had disturbed- -their
rest, and they could not. get their eyes open.
Balser, who was the bravest boy lever knew,
hurried back into the drift, dived beneath the
snow, got his gun right from under one of
the bears, and came quickly back to me.
I, ashamed to be behind Balser in bravery,
essayed the same daring feat ; but when I got
my gun and rose to my feet, the bear evinced
a sudden, unexpected affection for me, and
in less time than I can tell it, had me in its
great hairy arms. It gave me one mighty
hug, and I thought another squeeze like that
would finish Tom Andy Bill. But before the
other hug came, I heard the report of a gun
close behind me. I also heard a oullet strike,
the bear's head within five inches of my nose.
A little splash of blood struck me-in the face.
I felt the bear's hold relax, and the brute and
T * nt under the snow together for tj\e second
ust have lost consciousness v ffer a* minute
K'i,MKKI> I. IKK THE INCARNATION OF KA(;K ''
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 91
or two, for the next thing I remember was
Balser dragging me from under the dead bear.
When he helped me out of the drift, we were
a pair of beauties. Balser, covered with blood,
looked like a demon. My face was scratched
and cut in twenty places, and every bone and
muscle in my body ached.
I looked at Balser and he looked at me,
and though neither of us knew how badly we
were hurt, we could not help laughing, though,
to tell you the truth, we wanted to cry.
" There goes the other bear ! " I cried,
pointing to the retreating form of the third
sleeper.
" I don'tcare," answered Balser; " I wouldn't
go after him if he had a hundred hides.
I know when I have enough. Let's in-
voice."
We sat down in the snow and examined
our wounds as well as we could.
" I believe that every rib is broken," said I.
" I wonder if all this blood is mine," mused
Balser.
Cold as it was," we took off his clothing,
but we found no wounds save a few scratches
on his face and neck; so we concluded that
the gore had been contributed by the bear.
92 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Balser examined my ribs and pronounced
them all whole, though I insisted that every
one of them was broken from my spine.
u We'll get stiff if we sit here," said
Balser. " Let us start home."
" We had better cover the bears with snow
to protect the carcasses from the wolves and
foxes," I suggested.
"You may cover them if you wish," he
answered, starting away. " I wouldn't stay
to cover a chest of gold. I'd even leave
Wyandotte's treasure. I want to get home."
We did, however, remain long enough to
cut a good piece of bear meat for the dogs ;
and when our faithful friends had swallowed
it, we covered the bears with snow and
started for home. Darkness soon fell, and
in less than a half-hour we were lost in the
deep forest.
" I am sleepy," said Uncle Tom Andy Bill,
" and I am going to bed." A chorus of
protests went up from the audience.
" Tell us if you got home," said one.
" Oh, please don't stop while you're lost
in the woods," said another.
But Uncle Tom Andy Bill said: "I'll tell
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 93
you all about it to-morrow evening, if I don't
go to church."
Mab climbed to his knees, put her arms
about his neck, and whispered excitedly :
" Please tell me, Uncle Tom Andy Bill, if
you got home alive. If you died in the
woods that night, I'll die too."
He kissed her curls and said :
" Of course I didn't die, sweetheart.
Don't you see I'm here ? But I'm tired and
don't want to talk any more."
So Mab climbed down from his knees and
led him by the finger off to slumber land.
CHAPTER V
LOST IN THE WOODS
Next evening there was an eager audience
awaiting Tom Andy Bill. He lighted his
pipe, and Mab drew her chair close beside
him, to be within easy reach of the big, help-
ing finger at the " scary " places.
" Let's pretend that maybe you and Balser
didn't get home," said Mab, snuggling up to
her friend ; but after a pause she continued :
" No, we'll not pretend that you didn't get
home ; that makes me want to cry. We'll
pretend that we don't know whether Balser
got home or not. Then it will be more
scary, and make us feel nice and shivery."
"All right," answered Tom Andy Bill;
" maybe Balser didn't get home. Perhaps
there will be no pretending."
"Oh, Uncle Tom! No, no! I can't
stand that either! Please tell me that
Balser did get home," pleaded Mab, a flood
of tears almost ready to spring from her eyes.
94
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 95
" Yes, yes, sweetheart," said Tom Andy
Bill, caressingly ; " we both got home, but we
had an awful night of it"
" Oh, not too awful. Please don't make it
too awful, Uncle Tom, or I'll just shiver
just shiver to death."
Every one laughed except Uncle Tom
Andy Bill. He never laughed when Mab
was serious.
"I'll have to tell you about it as it
happened," he said. " I don't make up the
stories couldn't do it to save my life."
" Oh, well, you are here, anyway. Let me
hold your hand. Then when we come to
the very bad places, I'll always know you
are safe."
The love in Mab's little heart was dearer
to Uncle Tom Andy Bill than the blood in
his own. The baby girl reached up, grasped
one of the big fingers, and said :
" All right. Now go ahead." And
Uncle Tom Andy Bill began.
THE STORY
I tell you, there are only two creatures in
the world that it does not pay to befriend
a snake and a fool. Even a snake may some-
96 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
times be grateful, but a fool, never. Balser
and I befriended the Indian, and we had our
reward sooner than we expected. I never
saw an Indian that was entirely a fool ; that
distinction is left for the white man.
When Balser and I discovered that we
were lost, we stopped. I looked about in
the heavens, and thought I saw the North
Star. I knew our general direction in pursu-
ing the bear had been northeast, therefore
we would take a southwesterly course in
returning. We were not at all sure of our
route, so we walked slowly; but soon we
came to the banks of a stream that we
thought was Blue River, and we at once
knew we were going wrong.
" If we go down the river," said Balser,
" we ought to reach Raster's house in an
hour or two at least, and we can get shelter.
I don't want to stay out all night with my
scratches and wounds."
" All right," said I, and we started, as we
thought, down the stream towards Raster's.
The dogs, too, were lost, and clung tim-
idly to our heels. Perhaps if we had been
as wise as they, we should have been able to
find our way home. The snow soon began
The i>'h,>, i< M>, uiivi. ioan "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 97
to fall about us like a deluge of feathers, and
after we had been walking rapidly for an
hour, Balser said :
" I surely know the river five miles above
Raster's, and it doesn't look familiar to me
here. I do believe we have been going up-
stream instead of down."
I didn't know which direction we had
taken. I was so confused that I believe I
should not have known my own house if I
had been standing on the doorstep.
" Take me home, Tige," said I, stooping
and patting the dog's head, " and never let
me leave it again."
Tige struck my leg with his tail to let me
know he was wagging it, and the poor dog
seemed to say : " Don't be frightened, Tom
Andy Bill. We'll get home by and by."
We stood in utter confusion for a while,
and Balser, pointing westward as we sup-
posed from the river, said :
" I believe that direction is west. We are
on the west side of some stream, for we came
eastward and we did not cross a river or a
creek."
The reasoning seemed good, and we, feel-
ing that we had our bearings once more,
9 8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
started as we supposed in a southwesterly
direction for home. Soon after we started
we again entered the deep forest and were
as badly lost as ever. We, however, kept on
walking to keep our blood circulating, for
while the weather was not very cold, it was
raw, and what little wind there was seemed
to penetrate to our very bones. Although
we walked rapidly, we could not keep warm.
We were moving along aimlessly and hope-
lessly through a very dark portion of the for-
est when a large black animal crossed my
path not one foot in front of me, and took with
it in its teeth a piece of my half-rotten buck-
skin trousers. It was a wolf, and you may be
sure I sprang back pretty badly frightened.
" He will go and tell his friends," said Bal-
ser, " and they will come and take revenge on
us for Solomon's powder keg."
Hardly had he spoken when we heard
the barking howl of wolves coming from the
direction the wolf had taken. Wolves are
cowardly beasts, and we had no fear of two
or three, but a hungry pack is the greatest
danger man or beast can encounter. Espe-
cially is the danger great at night. Judging
by the noise the wolves made, we would have
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 99
been justified in believing that a great pack
was on our scent ; but we also knew that two
or three wolves could exert themselves to
make as much noise as twenty. That is a
shrewd trick to which they sometimes resort
for the purpose of terrifying their prey and
making it easier to capture.
Balser and I, with the dogs close at our
heels, hurried forward as fast as we could
travel, though our haste would not help us
against the wolves. If the pack were a
large one, they would soon overtake us. If
the raw, cold night air chilled our blood, the
fear of the wolves chilled our very bones and
gave speed to our heels.
Thus we were hurrying along, looking con-
stantly to the right and to the left and back
of us, when suddenly Balser stumbled over
an obstruction in his path and fell forward
on his face. We were both frightened, but
when he rose to his feet, he stooped and
thrust his hand under the snow to discover,
if possible, the cause of his fall.
44 By George, it's a bear ! " he cried,
springing back. I, too, sprang back. We
had no fight left in us. We had had more
than enough fighting for one day.
ioo UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
As we retreated, we expected the bear
to arise up and make its presence known,
but it did not. I was watching the spot
closely and was not paying much attention
to where I was going, so I moved backward
against an obstruction of some sort, and fell
over it. When I examined my stumbling-
block, I found that it was another bear.
" A bear ! Another bear ! " I cried,
springing to my feet and joining Balser in a
general stampede for safety.
" Lord, did you ever hear of so many
bears ? " wailed Balser. " The woods fairly
swarm with them. Five in one day; and
wolves! Hear them, Tom Andy Bill, hear
them! I believe I'm going crazy fright-
ened out of my wits ! "
After a minute or two of trembling silence
I said:
" I'll bet those are logs that we stumbled
over."
As the supposed bears did not move, we
laughed nervously and went cautiously back
to them. I put my hand on the one Balser
had fallen over, but I sprang away very
quickly, crying, " It's a bear, sure enough ! "
Then I went to the one I had stumbled over.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 101
I sprang away from it, too, with the exclama-
tion, "A bear!"
I quickly joined Balser at a little distance,
and we waited somewhat anxiously for devel-
opments. Presently he said, laughing ner-
vously:
"Say, Tom Andy Bill, do you know
where we are ? Those bears are dead, and
this is where we had our fight in the snow-
drift."
" Don't say a word," said I, sitting down
on the bear nearest to me. " We are right
back to the place we started from. I think
the spot has a charm to hold us. Listen to
the wolves. I do believe we'll never get
away from here alive, Balser."
The howling wolf pack came nearer and
nearer, and our hearts sank lower and lower.
When the wolves seemed to be getting too
bold, we fired our guns and shouted to
frighten them off. We had discharged five
or six loads of powder when we heard, as if
in response to our volley, a rolling Indian
warwhoop.
"Great Jupiter! Indians!" cried Balser.
" I prefer Indians to wolves," said I; "let
us fire again."
102 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I loaded my gun heavily and fired. A
rifle does not make a loud report, but we
heard an answering warwhoop in response
to my shot. We shouted at intervals of ten
or twelve seconds, and soon we saw an
Indian approaching. It was Wyandotte.
" Oh, Wyandotte," cried Balser, going to
meet him, "we are glad to see you. We
are lost."
" Indian know," answered Wyandotte.
" This way home. Hurry. Heap rain by
and by." '
Wyandotte started home, and we gladly
followed. We tried to make the Indian
talk, and although his words were few, we
succeeded in learning that he suspected we
were lost when we did not return at night-
fall, and started out to find us and to lead
us home. How he was able to see our
tracks in the dark without a torch, I don't
understand; but he found us and took us
home straight as a crow would fly.
After two hours' hard walking we reached
the cabin near midnight. The snow had
turned to rain, but just as we got home the
wind shifted to the north and the rain turned
to sleet. Had not our silent friend found us,
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 103
we certainly should have perished that night
in the woods. We had nursed Wyandotte
back to life, and he had repaid us in the
same coin, so the obligation, much to our
regret, was cancelled.
We were welcomed by a corn song from
Solomon. He was almost famished, and,
of course, got his hay and corn at once.
We, too, were hungry all the way down to
our toes, and our first task was to prepare
supper. We did not wait for potatoes to
bake, but made a great cake of corn pone,
broiled several quails and two rabbits, and
the three of us ate them all. I believe we
could have eaten a dozen rabbits. Wyan-
dotte ate a quail and prepared to go to sleep.
Before he turned in, he said :
" You help Indian. Indian pay back.
Indian go away to-night."
We asked him to remain and help us bring
home the bears we had killed.
" If you will stay," said Balser, " Tom Andy
Bill and I will take the bearskins and the
meat down to Blue River and sell them.
You shall have all we get for them, and we
will buy you a new pair of shoes and a new
blanket."
104 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Wyandotte shook his head. He would
not stay.
" We'll get you a hatchet, too," said I.
No. Wyandotte must be going.
" We'll give you shoes, blanket, hatchet,
knife, and gun if you'll stay with us three
days," said Balser.
" Oh, cheap gun," said Wyandotte, con-
temptuously.
Balser and I each had two guns. I took
down one of mine; it was a good English
rifle.
" Is this gun cheap ? " I asked.
" Good gun," answered Wyandotte.
" We'll give it to you," I said.
" Powder ? Bullets ? " the Indian asked.
" Yes," answered Balser.
" How much powder ? " asked Wyandotte.
" A big horn full," I answered.
A big horn was the horn of an ox; a small
horn was that of a cow.
" How big bullets ? " asked the Indian,
meaning how many.
" Two hands, two feet ; two more hands,
two more feet," said Balser, meaning forty.
In dealing with Indians, calculations were
often made on the basis of the number of
"'I I 's a HK.AK, StTUC ENOUGH !
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 105
fingers and toes possessed by a man. The
number belonging to the person making the
offer was usually recognized as the standard.
If he was so fortunate as to be short of a few
toes or fingers, the advantage in the trade was
with him.
" Let Indian see toes," said Wyandotte,
more from a habit of caution than because he
suspected us of a desire to cheat him. Balser
showed him five toes on each foot, and held
out his fingers for inspection. The Indian,
being satisfied, answered, " Stay three days."
Then he lay down on his bed of hay.
Balser and I crept into our sleeping-bags, and
being very tired, were soon in dreamland.
Next morning Solomon's corn song
awakened us from a sound sleep. We
did not want to get up, but having a big
day's work ahead of us, we turned out, fed
Solomon, and got our breakfast in a great
hurry. We made a hasty visit to our traps,
returned as quickly as possible, harnessed
Solomon to the sled, and started with Wyan-
dotte to fetch the dead bears. By noon we
had loaded them on the sled and, amid vigor-
ous protests from Solomon, started home.
By five o'clock that evening the bears were
106 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
skinned, and the edible portion of the meat
was hanging safely in the treetops. On the
following day Balser and I took the meat and
the skins to the town of Blue River. We got
Wyandotte's blanket, knife, and hatchet, and
had five shillings left to pay us for three days'
hard work.
We slept at Balser's home that night, and
started next morning for the cabin loaded
with eggs, butter, a great can of sweet milk,
and enough mince pies to make twenty boys
sick for a month.
Solomon, with his accustomed good na-
ture, seemed glad to return to Brandywine,
and three hours after sun-up we were back in
our cabin. Balser's mother gave us a bottle
of whiskey with wild cherry bark. It was
considered a great medicine among the
settlers, and Mrs. Brent admonished us to
take a little whenever we got our feet wet or
became thoroughly chilled. I'll tell you
more about the whiskey in a moment.
When we reached the cabin we gave
Wyandotte his blanket, hatchet, knife, shoes,
and gun. By way of good measure we also
gave him three pairs of woollen socks, but
these he tossed back to us, saying,
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 107
" Woman's gear." The other things he
accepted stoically, without comment, and
placed them on his bed next the wall.
After supper, Balser, having no thought
of Wyandotte, took the whiskey bottle from
his pocket and placed it on a shelf. I
noticed the Indian's eyes glisten for a
moment, but his face immediately became
expressionless, and I thought no more about
the glitter in his eyes. I knew that all Ind-
ians have a great love for intoxicants, but it
did not occur to me that Wyandotte would
want the whiskey until I happened to turn
my face from the fire and saw him taking
the bottle down from the shelf.
" Put that back ! " I said, rising and going
toward him. He held his hatchet in his hand
and lifted it threateningly above my head.
" Ugh ! " he grunted, " sit down ! "
I sat down. Balser arose to remonstrate
with our guest, for a drunken Indian usually
is a fiend incarnate ; but Wyandotte again
lifted his hatchet and Balser sat down.
The Indian drained the bottle without
taking it from his lips fortunately it was
not a large one and came around in front
of the fire, where he sat down upon the floor.
108 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
In a few minutes Wyandotte the Silent, as
we often called him, began to chant in a low
minor key. The words of his song were
Indian, but frequently we caught the name
" Wyandotte." The magic word always
aroused our interest, for if the Indian had
spoken the truth during his delirium, the
gold was hidden at or in some place bearing
that name.
We longed to know where Wyandotte
was situated. We constantly discussed the
subject when alone, and I believe we thought
of nothing else. Therefore, when the Indian
began to chant, we listened attentively, and
soon Wyandotte the Silent became Wyan-
dotte the Talkative. Under the influence of
whiskey most Indians grow morose and sul-
len, but this one became cheerful and happy.
His good humor grew apace, and presently
I said:
" Tell us about Wyandotte."
I'll not attempt to give you the language
in which he spoke, but I'll try to give you
the story in my own way, perhaps with a
touch here and there of his figurative manner
of speech.
CHAPTER VI
THE STORY OF BLUE VIOLET
The Indian remained silent for a few
minutes, gazing into the fire, then began :
Wyandotte is the name of a small tribe of
good Indians that used to live far, far from
here, on the banks of a great river. They
are all gone now, and are scattered like the
leaves of autumn. Wyandotte Wyolyo is a
great Indian god who loved his people as
the eagle loves its young. Wyandotte is his
home. It is a great cave one moon, two
moon, three moon journey from here.
Great hills surround the cave, and wolves
whose numbers are as the pebbles of the
river guard its door. Two devils with fiery
breath stand inside the doorway to consume
any one unlawfully trying to enter; but if
one who has no good right to enter should
succeed in passing beyond the portals of the
cave, death would overtake him before he
109
no UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
could return to the sunlight. There are
many rooms and passageways, and one who
does not know the key to the labyrinth of
the cave would be lost in the recesses of its
stony heart and would perish miserably.
Hanging from the roof of the cave and
springing from its floor are white devils,
some of them two, four, ten times bigger
than a man, and these devils laugh at those
who are lost in their midst and drive them
mad.
Many, many moons ago so many that
their number is like the trees of a great
forest, aye, like the leaves of the trees in
spring there lived not far from this mar-
vellous cave a tribe of Indians calling them-
selves Wyandottes. For many years they
did not know of the cave, for it was hidden
amidst bare and rocky hills, and they did not
climb those hills because their god, Wyan-
dotte Wyolyo, lived among them, and the
place of his home was sacred to them.
Long, long ago, one spring when the deer
were bringing forth their young, and the
leaves of the forest were bursting into bud,
a tribe of people whose faces bore the color
of the white, poor ground whereon maize
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL in
will not grow, came down the great river on
which the Wyandottes lived, built their
houses, and planted their crops on the rich
black ground near the river's bank.
Summers came and went, and the white-
faced tribe swarmed into the home of the
Wyandottes always with increasing numbers.
The new tribe stole from the Wyandottes
their richest ground, whereon to grow their
own maize and tobacco. If the Wyandottes
complained, the whites fell upon them and
beat them, and killed them with magic rods
that breathed forth fire and death. The
white tribe stole not only the home of the
Wyandottes and the rich fields their fathers
had cultivated, but the new people killed the
game of the forest and what they did not
kill they drove from the land with the thun-
der of their arms.
Of all the peoples of the earth, the Wyan-
dotte maidens were the most beautiful.
Their great eyes were as tender as the
mother doe's, and sparkled like the stars in
the blue-black sky on a moonless night.
Their faces were like the fair full moon, and
to look upon them brought joy to their hus-
bands in time of trouble. Their natures were
ii2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
like the balmy spring, and their breath was
like the south wind, sighing through the
forest when the sweet haw blooms. The
Great Father loved the Wyandottes, and he
said in the beginning :
" I will give to this tribe the most beauti-
ful maidens of all the earth, to make glad
and strong the hearts of the braves."
I was of that tribe, and my heart is sore
for the sake of my scattered people.
When the men of the white tribe saw our
beautiful maidens, they coveted them and
coaxed them from us. When the maidens
could not be coaxed, the white men stole
them, kept them for a time, and killed them
with hardship and blows.
Once upon a time, so many summers ago
that I have lost the count, there lived among
the Wyandottes a young man who was called
by his friends "Monyomo," which means in
the language of the whites, " The Big Man
who Talks Little." Monyomo, when still
young, was a brave hunter. He feared
neither man nor beast, loved his god, was a
true son to his father, and gave to each man
his due, whether it were of good or evil. I
will not speak of his virtues, for the man who
"Ill WW III. NONE SAVE A LITTLE MAIDEN NAMED ' IONVVAH '"
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 113
sings the song of his own praise will find that
none but fools take up the refrain. I was
Monyomo, but Monyomo died of grief, and
now Wyandotte lives in his place.
When Monyomo grew to manhood, his
friends told him to take a wife, for, said they,
"a wife is to a man what the sun and the
rains of spring are to the maize." But
among all the beautiful Wyandotte maidens
there was none he wanted save a little
maiden of tender years named " Ionwah,"
which means " Blue Violet." She was too
young to be a wife, but Monyomo looked
upon her and loved her, and said he would
wait.
One cold winter, when the earth was white
and the trees were black, the old chief of the
Wyandottes died, and Monyomo was chosen
to rule the tribe. Then he took Blue Violet
to his wigwam that she might grow up to
love him and be his wife when the cloak of
womanhood should fall upon her.
In those times the hearts of the Wyan-
dottes were sad, for the white people con-
tinued to pour in upon their hunting-ground
and were growing more insolent and more
oppressive year by year. Often we coun-
ii 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
selled together to learn from our wise men
a plan whereby we might stem the swift
torrent of destruction that was rushing down
upon our people. The young men desired
war ; but the old men said to wait the wait of
a just cause, and that Wyandotte Wyolyo,
the god of our tribe, would bring us help all
in his own good time.
My heart longed for war, but my head
told me that this terrible tribe that had come
upon us like a cloud of locusts to steal our
homes, would gladly rob us of our lives, and
would take our young women to work for
them as slaves.
Monyomo cared not for his life, though
the future was rosy with the hue of a spring
sunrise, and he wanted to live to hold Blue
Violet to his heart as wife, and to see his
child upon her breast. He had not suffered
from the depredations of the whites save
in the suffering of his tribe. Many of those
who spoke for war had been maimed and
beaten by the whites. Others had lost their
sweethearts, wives, and children. All such
longed for war, and were glad to welcome
death for the sake of a just revenge.
It is much easier for a man to be wise and
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 115
prudent in the face of injury to others than
it is to think twice if he himself has been
wronged. Monyomo had not felt the hand
of the white man ; therefore, he, as chief,
found it easy to decide with the old men, and
the tribe did not then go to war.
Two springs, two summers, and two win-
ters came and passed like the flight of a bird
over our heads. The third spring had sent
its welcome messengers of wild flowers, and
the leaves of the trees were eager to drink
the sun.
The rarest flower to bloom that spring
was Blue Violet, and Monyomo told his
tribe that he would pluck the beautiful
blossom at the next new moon, and would
wear it on his heart.
Upon the day before the sharp-horned
moon was due, Monyomo went forth to kill
a deer for his wedding feast. It was a bright,
warm day, such as gladdens the hearts of
the wild flowers ; but it was the blackest day
of Monyomo's life.
Before the sun had started down the hill
of the sky, Monyomo had killed a rare, fat
buck and, with his trophy over his shoulders,
hurried home to lay it at the feet of the
n6 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
maiden who, next day, would be his bride.
He had left Blue Violet drinking in the
warm sun with the other wild flowers, but
when he returned his friends met him, say-
ing:
" Make strong your heart, Monyomo, or
grief will crush it ! "
Where a man loves, there will his heart
fly as a mother bird turns ever toward her
nestlings ; so my thoughts at once turned to
Blue Violet.
" Is she ill ? " I asked.
Worse, friend, worse," answered my
people, fearing to look me in the face.
" Is she dead ? Life of my life, is she
dead ? " I asked.
" Worse, friend, worse," came the answer.
" Ah, the whites ! " I cried, and my head
hung in anguish.
" Yes," answered my friends. " Five white
men rode into our village when all our
young braves were away. One of the white
tribe saw Blue Violet and tried to coax her
to go with him. She refused. Then he
took her in his arms, placed her before him
on his horse, and rode away with her."
The weight of the white man's hand had
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 117
fallen upon me, and I knew why so many
of our men had counselled for war. The
deer I was carrying fell to the ground. I
turned my back upon my wigwam and went
out among the hills of Wyandotte Wyolyo
to be alone with my sorrow and my god.
I climbed the rocky steeps until nightfall ;
then I shouted aloud to Wyandotte Wyolyo
and told him of my grief. When I had
spoken, a great black cloud came upon the
sky before me, and on the cloud, fire from
heaven burned the figure of a blood-red
tomahawk. Soon Wyandotte Wyolyo, the
god, spoke in tones of rolling thunder :
" Go back to your village, Monyomo, and
gather your braves. On the morrow's night,
when the new moon has gone to rest with
the sleeping sun, march upon the white
tribe. Burn and kill ! Burn and kill !
Spare not ! That which the people of this
accursed race has done to you, do you even
so to them, a thousand fold. An honest
man pays his just debts, and the debt of a
righteous vengeance must be paid by every
brave man that owes it. When you have
killed the whites and burned their houses,
take the maiden, Blue Violet. Bring her to
u8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
me and leave her on the stone whereon you
are now standing. She shall be your sacri-
fice to me. She is the price I ask for
giving you revenge. Do you promise that
sacrifice ? "
Monyomo sadly gave his promise to the
god and hurried back to the tribe. Word
was passed among the warriors, and the next
day was spent in sharpening knives and
tomahawks. The sun seemed to stand still
in the sky, so slowly did it drag its weary
way across the blue, and when it had sunk,
the new moon hung like a taunting laggard
in the blackened west. That night was to
have been my wedding feast, but in its place
there would be a wedding of death, and my
tomahawk should be the high priest.
After a weary time of waiting the moon
sank into the arms of the sun, and darkness
fell upon the river and the hills. Monyomo
and his braves started silently for the village
of the whites. By midnight they were upon
it. Not a word was spoken. So silently
did the Wyandottes do their work that even
the watch dogs were not aroused. Dark,
noiseless figures glided here and there and
everywhere among the houses, and quick as
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 119
an eagle pounces upon its prey, half the
wigwams in the white village were in flames.
Monyomo had said to his men : " Kill and
kill, but spare the women and watch for
Blue Violet."
Soon the white men began to run from
their houses, but they all met death. They
fell before the just vengeance of the Wyan-
dottes, as the corn falls before the corn knife.
Monyomo ran from house to house, calling,
"Blue Violet, Blue Violet, Blue Violet!"
When he had almost despaired of finding
her, she answered and ran, laughing and
weeping, to his arms. But he did not take
her to his heart. He said : " You are not
for me. I will tell you when we go back to
the hills."
Of that night's work I love to speak.
" There is the man who stole me," cried
Blue Violet, pointing to a white man just
emerging from a door. I sprang upon him
as a wildcat springs upon its prey. I dis-
dained my tomahawk and did not touch my
knife. I clutched his throat and killed him
with these hands.
No woman or child perished by act of ours,
but every man of the white village died that
120 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
night and was left for the carrion crows.
When our task was finished, we hurried
back to the hills and prepared for war. We
knew that the whites would come from far
and near to wage the war of extermination
against our tribe, so we counselled among
ourselves to learn, if possible, what was best
to do.
First of all, it was our duty to offer Blue
Violet as a sacrifice to Wyandotte Wyolyo.
I loved my god, but my heart was as heavy
as a black stone at the thought of losing my
bride. The morning after the battle I did
not go near her. I was sick with grief, and
was not brave enough to tell her the truth.
I could endure my own pain much easier
than I could bear her sufferings. Presently
she came to me and said :
" Will you not take your bride, Monyomo ? "
" I cannot, I cannot ! " I answered, turning
my face from her.
" Why can you not ? " she asked. " It is
my right to know, for it was not of my will
that I was stolen by the whites."
" It is not because you were stolen by the
whites, Blue Violet, that I do not take you
for my wife. You are still to me what the
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 121
pure violet of spring is to the sun, what the
sweetbrier blossom is to the sighing wind.
I would gladly give all I have in the world,
my life, my heart, to call you wife; but the
god, Wyandotte Wyolyo, demands you, a
sacrifice, as the price of your rescue and our
vengeance."
Tears came to her eyes, and she said :
" But I am here, and our people have had
their revenge. We need not pay the debt
to Wyandotte Wyolyo. He can but kill us.
I do not fear death, it is but a dreamless
sleep beneath the flowers in spring and the
snows in winter ; but I do want you for my
husband, and I am unhappy that you, who
have waited so long and patiently for me,
should forego the happiness your life has
earned. Wyandotte Wyolyo will not know,
nor will he care. Keep me for your own,
Monyomo. The god will forget your prom-
ise, and the sun will shine once more for
you and for me."
It hurt my ears to hear her entreaties, but
with nimble tongue she spoke from an over-
flowing heart and almost tempted me to
break my word with the god who had given
us our vengeance. She drew me to her side
122 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
and painted the picture of the future with
such sweet grace that it took all my man-
hood to resist entering into the heaven of
her love. But my manhood came to my
help, and I left her weeping.
That evening I led her to the barren hills
and left her amid their desolation, standing
on the spot whereon I had stood before the
god.
We rested for a week, but we knew that
trouble was ahead. From time to time our
scouts brought in news that the white tribe
was gathering a great army of men, armed
with small guns and with great guns on
wheels, and that they were coming to wipe
our tribe from the face of the earth, as a war-
rior wipes the war paint from his forehead
after battle. We watched and waited for
their approach.
Another sharp-horned moon had come and
the Wyandottes had begun to hope that the
whites would not molest them ; but one day,
as the sun was sinking, our scouts came
running to tell us that the white man's army
was but two hours distant.
We called a council of the wise men and
the braves to determine what we should do.
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UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 123
Our scouts said the white man's army out-
numbered the Wyandottes as the leaves of
a tree outnumber the fruit. I and our
warriors wanted to fight and die; but the
wise men said we must consider the women,
the children, and the aged.
They said : " The white man will have no
mercy on these, and though death is sweet
when it comes to a brave man fighting in a
cause he loves, it is terrible to those who
cannot resist, but must die while the blood is
cold in fear. These white men will kill our
women, children, aged and feeble ones, and
will carry our young women into a captivity
worse than death. We must not fight. We
will escape to the hills ; and thence we may
be able to travel toward the setting sun,
where the curse of the white man's shadow
has not fallen."
That night we left our wigwams and
started for the hills of Wyandotte Wyolyo,
hoping that the god that had given us ven-
geance would lead us from under the yoke.
When we reached the top of the first foot-
hill, we could see the white man's army
swarming in our deserted village. We saw
the flames of our wigwams, and as the shad-
i2 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
ows of night were about to fall, we saw the
white men hurrying toward us in pursuit.
But the white man is lazy and will not work
at night. Soon after dark we saw their
campfires, and then we sent back scouts to
watch their camp.
The road ahead of us was unknown to any
of our tribe, for the hills were sacred to our
god, and we had never trespassed upon them.
In the darkness of the night we rested ; but
before the east was pink we rose with the
gray dawn, and again took up our journey to
our god in the hope that he would help us
in the time of our dire need.
Hardly had we started when we saw the
enemy in pursuit. The white men were all
young and active. Our braves were active,
too, and they might easily have escaped ; but
our women, children, and old men moved
slowly, and there was no thought in our
hearts of deserting them.
By noon the white men were so close upon
us that their bullets almost reached our
braves who were guarding the rear. The
whites would be upon us in less than half of
half an hour. I saw no hope, and in desper-
ation prepared to die righting. Our people
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 125
numbered less than ten score souls. The
work the whites had begun a few years before
would soon be finished, and our tribe would
be like the sunlight of yesterday.
To continue our flight was hopeless. We
could die where we were quite as well as
farther on. Therefore I said :
" My people, we will ascend this hill, pass
to the other side, and stop at the spot where
Wyandotte Wyolyo gave me his promise of
vengeance. There the rocks will give us
some protection, and there our god may hear
our cry for help. If he does not hear us, we
will offer our blood as a sacrifice to him, and
he will avenge our wrongs."
Before us was a high hill, shaped like the
half of an egg. When we reached the top,
the white men were at the foot, shouting and
triumphant, thirsting for our blood and con-
fident of getting it. The Wyandottes hur-
ried down the north side of the hill, and
when they were halfway toward the foot, I
recognized the spot whereon I had left Blue
Violet a month before, a sacrifice to our god.
I shouted to my people to stop, and then
I called to Wyandotte Wyolyo for help. I
had called thrice when the answer came.
126 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
By my side grew a great flowering bush that
sprang from the hard rock as good some-
times comes from evil, and from the bush
came Blue Violet. I took her to my arms,
and said :
" The white men are upon us. Their
numbers are as the stars on a clear night.
Ask Wyandotte Wyolyo to help us or we
are lost!"
She turned quickly to the flowering bush,
drew it to one side, and said :
" Enter here."
I looked, and there I beheld, opening into
the rock, a doorway large enough for three
stooping men to enter at the same time. I
lost not one moment, but immediately or-
dered my people to enter this refuge the god
had offered us. The women, children, and
the aged ones were the first to enter the home
of Wyandotte Wyolyo ; then the young men
followed, and the last to go was Monyomo.
He lingered, hidden by the flowering bush,
to watch the white men. He had not long
to wait, for hardly had the last of the Wyan-
dottes entered the home of their god when
the white men came swarming to the crest
of the hill like wolves in pursuit of a doe.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 127
They were shouting in triumph, and were
ready with their guns to send death upon
the Indians, whom they expected to see on
the open ground below them. They paused
for a moment on the crest of the hill, and
then rushed down among the rocks, expect-
ing there to find us hiding like foxes. Half-
way down the hill they halted by the flowering
bush, and cursed and growled like wolves
disappointed of their prey. I watched from
behind the flowering bush and I felt that
my people were safe. Had not Wyandotte
Wyolyo made for us a refuge in the heart of
the rock ? Had he not given us life at the
hands of the sacrifice we had made to him ?
All day the whites sought us among the
rocks ; but when evening approached they
marched back over the hills, and I, hiding be-
hind the rocks, watched them until they were
lost in the darkness of the night. Then I
entered into the heart of the rock where my
people were hiding, to cheer them with the
news that our enemy had left us with our
god.
I found the Wyandottes sitting hand in
hand in a great vaulted chamber. Surely no
one could doubt that it was the handiwork
128 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
of our god. In it there was room for all and
for many more. I did not see all the chamber
when first I entered, but when I told my
people that the white men had departed, our
braves crept out through the flowering bush
to gather wood, and we kindled a fire.
Then all the marvels of this wondrous home
of our wondrous god were shown to our eyes.
I asked for Blue Violet. I was sitting by
the fire, and soon she knelt by my side. She
placed her arms about my neck, saying :
" My Monyomo, Wyandotte Wyolyo has
given me back to you, but Blue Violet is dying
for food. She has eaten only a handful of
roots and a few berries since you left her here,
a sacrifice to the god of our people. She stood
until nightfall where you left her, but Wyan-
dotte Wyolyo did not come. She was tired
and cold, and when a bird flew from the
flowering bush, she thought to find a poor
shelter under the branches and the leaves,
but when she stooped to lie down beneath the
bush, the god made an opening in the rock for
his bride, and she entered. Here she waited,
faithful to your command, for Wyandotte
Wyolyo to come and take her ; but he did not
come, and now he has returned her to you,
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 129
Monyomo, and she will never leave you
again."
Her cheeks, once so round and red, were
sunken and gray. Her great eyes, once so
soft and brown, were dim, and her breath
came fitfully. My Blue Violet had faded
while dutifully waiting for her god to take
her, that she might save her tribe.
I was up before the sun next morning, and
Wyandotte Wyolyo giving me good fortune,
I soon killed a doe and took it to Blue Violet
and my people. Blue Violet ate sparingly of
the meat, and then she sat beside me with
her head upon my breast. Thus we sat for
hours in sweet silence. I thought she slept,
but after a time her thin hand grew cold, and
I knew she slept the sleep of death. We
buried her among the rocks of Wyandotte
Wyolyo's home ; and, saving Balserbrent and
Tomandybilladdison, who have been kind to
me, I hate every white man that breathes the
breath of life !
While I was watching the white men, Blue
Violet had shown my people an opening to
an inner cave. The opening was so small
that two persons could not pass through
together, and a very large man would find
i 3 o UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
difficulty in entering at all. The opening
was so cunningly concealed by rocks that
one in the first cavern might easily fail to
find it. This second doorway in the rock led
to the real home of the god, Wyandotte
Wyolyo.
In it are beautiful chambers, as many as
the fishes in the river. One must learn their
winding ways if he would walk through them,
or he will perish in the heart of the rocks.
In the chambers and halls of this great cave
are the white devils that guard the home of
the god ; but the god turned them to rock for
the sake of his people, and drove the wolves
from the door that we might find refuge from
the whites.
The Wyandottes lived in the home of their
god for many moons, but the white men
sought our lives, and one by one our braves
were killed while seeking food for the old
people, the children, and the squaws. We
lived like hunted wild beasts, and were al-
ways in the shadow of death. Our life was
half death for want of food, but at times we
were able to take from the white men a poor
mouthful.
One day our braves brought in three white
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 131
men whom they had captured. The white
men all died that night.
At the foot of the hill where the white
men had been captured was a wagon that had
belonged to them. We hoped to find food
in the wagon, but we found nothing save
fine silks, rich cloths, and five small chests,
which we carried to the cave. In these
chests was gold the white man's god. For
it he will give his blood, his life, his honor.
It was worthless to us. We could not eat it
and we dared not go among the whites to
use it in buying food.
Our people were starving, and one by one
they died, until there were left out of the ten
score souls barely four score. These left the
cave by ones and twos, and a day dawned
when Monyomo sat alone in the home of his
god and begged for death.
But death is a blessing that Wyandotte
Wyolyo sends to man only when he has
earned it. Monyomo had not earned his
black crown, so he left the cave, kissed the
rock under which Blue Violet lay, and ever
since that day has been a wanderer upon the
face of this hard, cruel earth.
From you, Tomandybilladdison, and from
i 3 2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
you, Balserbrent, I have had the first kind-
ness that has ever come to me by the hand
of a white man. I and my people are to the
white people what the doe is to the wolf.
May the God of your people and the god of
my people judge between us. I have said.
Wyandotte wound his blanket about him,
took his gun, knife, and hatchet, and started
for the door. We begged him to remain, and
offered him our hut for a home, but he shook
his head. While he was standing in the
door, I said :
" Tell us where the cave is, Wyandotte."
He turned quickly upon us with a glare of
anger, and said :
" I wondered if good for the sake of good
could come from a white man's heart. You
have been kind to me because you hoped to
find the gold. Hope no more."
" We knew nothing of the gold when we
took you in and cared for you, and nursed
you back to life," said Balser.
His face seemed to soften, and he answered,
" True." Then he went out into the dark-
ness and we saw him no more.
CHAPTER VII
THE FLOOD AND THE MOTHER BEAR
Let a hint of hidden treasure once get
into a boy's head (said Uncle Tom Andy
Bill next evening, when we were all settled
cozily about the fire) and everything else
gets out. There is a fascination about it
that no boy can resist, and, in my opinion,
no right-minded boy ought to try to resist it.
After Wyandotte left us, Balser and I sat
before the fire talking excitedly about the
gold that lay hidden somewhere in the mar-
vellous cave.
" Five chests ! " exclaimed Balser. " I tell
you, Tom Andy Bill, we must find that
cave ! "
" Yes," said I, " we must ; but how can
we? One moon, two moons, three moons
journey from here. He might as well have
said that the treasure was in the moon for
all the good his story does us."
"But think of it," said Balser. "Five
133
i 3 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
chests! Suppose there are one thousand
dollars in each chest, and no decent chest
would think of having less; that would
make five thousand dollars. Why, I tell
you, Tom Andy Bill, we would be rich if
we could find it. Twenty-five hundred dol-
lars apiece ! We could each buy three hun-
dred acres of ground of good ground
if we could find the treasure."
" Many a man has fallen over that little
word if,' " said I.
11 Oh, but we know so much about it al-
ready," returned Balser. " We know that it
is hidden in Wyandotte's cave. We know
that the cave is near a great river, and we
know even the number of chests of gold.
We know all except the exact location of
the cave."
"Yes," said I, sarcastically; "that's all
we don't know. How much more, for good-
ness' sake, would you like not to know ? "
" I admit it's a good deal not to know,"
said Balser, "but what we have heard I
think is a good deal to know. Wyandotte
said the cave was near a great river. He
must have meant the Ohio River."
" Or the Mississippi," I interrupted.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 135
" Yes, he may have meant the Mississippi,
or any other river, but we'll have that treas-
ure some day, just as sure as you're alive, n
said Balser.
And I said, " I hope you're right."
Balser and I continued to talk about the
treasure until long past midnight, when we
turned in and dreamed of chests of gold and
caves and Indians, until Solomon awakened
us singing for corn.
After the Wyandotte gold got to ringing
in our ears, the pelts we took seemed almost
worthless, and our zest in the work sadly
flagged. We did not, however, neglect the
traps and guns, but we loved best to sit
before the fire after supper, discussing the
treasure and talking of what we would do
with the money. At times we said we
would buy land, but the land would have
to be cleared and clearing was very hard
work. We thought of a great many uses
to which we could put the money, but al-
ways fell back upon one plan ; Balser would
give his part of the gold to his father and I
would give my part to my father.
"Won't it be great," said Balser, "when
I go into the house and throw a bag full
136 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
of something down on the floor in front
of father, and say kind of careless like,
' There's a present for you, father ; ' and
father will look at it kind of careless like,
and he'll say, 'What is it, son?' and I'll
say : ' Oh, nothing much. Just a little gold,'
and then My ! I wish I knew where the
cave is ! "
I suppose there is not a man living who
has become rich, having been poor, who will
not say that his anticipation of wealth was
far sweeter than the realization. I tell you,
one dream dollar is worth a double eagle of
gold, though I admit that it will not buy as
much to eat. As long as I live, I'll never
forget our dreams of treasure while sitting
before the fire on our stump chairs in the
cabin on Brandywine. We were rich then
richer than Croesus in health, youth, and
dreams. My life! what more could a man
ask ? Health, youth, and dreams ! That's
the stuff heaven is made of.
The old man leaned forward, gazing in
revery at the fire, but he did not see the
flames nor the glowing embers. He saw two
boys sitting happily together in their rude
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 137
cabin, dreaming and talking in their dreams.
It was as if he were looking through an
inverted telescope back through the long
years. The boys looked so small and so far
away that they seemed to him like beings of
another race living in another world. We
all knew what Uncle Tom Andy Bill was
thinking about, and no one spoke a word to
disturb his retrospection. Even little Mab
felt the touch of sympathy, and reached up
from her chair, slipping her dimpled hand
into his. He kissed it, lifted his head, sighed,
and continued :
" Ah, life was sweet." Then he relapsed
into silence again. After a little time one
of the older girls said :
" It is sweet now, Uncle Tom."
" So it is, so it is. It's always sweet, but
when one gets old, some one else must fur-
nish the sugar," answered Uncle Tom Andy
Bill. " I believe I'll tell you about the flood,"
continued the Adopter.
" Oh, no," protested Mab. " Tell us another
bear story. We had all about the flood in
Sunday-school last Sunday. The teacher
told us all about the ark, and the animals, and
Noah. We know all about that, and "
138 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" No, no, I don't intend to tell you about
that flood," said Uncle Tom Andy Bill.
" The flood I'll tell you about occurred while
Balser and I were living in the cabin on
Brandywine, and the only animals that took
any part in it were Solomon, Tige and Prince,
a mother bear, and her cubs."
" Oh, that's all right," said Mab, laughing
contentedly and settling herself in her chair.
" Now go ahead."
Mab was the toast-master and started the
speaker off every evening.
THE STORY
Well, the flood came upon us as most
troubles come with a rush. It happened
during the latter part of February. The win-
ter had been very cold, and snow had accu-
mulated in great quantities on the ground.
I don't know that I have ever seen a more
beautiful winter than that was. During the
last week in February we noticed indications
of a break in the cold weather. I especially
remember one night. Balser and I were talk-
ing " treasure," as usual, before the fire. The
room was too warm, and I opened the door.
When I sat down again, I said :
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 139
" We'd better be moving home, Balser, or
the snow will melt, and poor Solomon will
have to drag the sled over the bare ground.
That would break his heart, and if we want
to save him the trouble, we will have to be
going pretty soon."
" You're right," answered Balser. " There's
another danger, too. If the snow melts
quickly, Brandywine will come up before we
can bat our eyes, and we'll be surrounded by
water. The few acres of ground immedi-
ately about here is high enough to protect
us from a small flood, but back of us the
ground is low and the creek is in front. If
we wait till the snow melts, you and I and
Solomon will have to wait for the flood to
go off, for we will be on an island. The
cabin is on rather low ground, and the flood
might reach even up to us. In that case, it
would drive us to the little knoll behind the
cabin, and we would be without shelter."
"That's right," said I. "Let us take up
our traps to-morrow and start for home the
day after."
" Agreed," answered Balser. " Then we'll
sell our pelts and start out to find the treas-
ure."
i 4 o UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" Which way will you start ? " I asked,
laughing. " One moon, two moon, three
moon. I tell you, Balser, we might as well
start for the moon."
Balser's dreams, you see, were far more real
to him than mine were to me.
" I don't know which way we'll start," he
answered, slightly nettled. " If you don't want
to try to find the treasure, say so, and I'll try it
alone, for I tell you, Tom Andy Bill, I'm de-
termined to have that gold. If we try, we
may fail probably shall ; but if we don't
try at all, we'll be sure not to find it."
" Your reasoning is good, Balser," I re-
sponded. " I do want to try, but while I love
to dream about it and to talk about it, I'll tell
you candidly that I haven't much faith in
Wyandotte's gold. But I should like to
know your plan for beginning to try."
You see I lacked imagination and persist-
ency, and Balser had plenty of both.
" I haven't a plan," he answered hesitat-
ingly ; " but I suppose the first thing to do
is to ask everybody we meet whether they
know of any caves. If any one should
happen to tell us of a great cave near a
river well, we'll quit ploughing corn and go
TlilY LONG FOR SPRING ANIi COMI OU1 OF TUKIR Ht'KKOWS
IN UAltCM OF FOOD"
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 141
to that cave. But if we hear of none that
answers Wyandotte's description, we'll wait
till after the corn is laid by, and then we'll
start out on our own hook. I would suggest
that we go to towns along the Ohio River and
ask the people if they know of any caves in
their vicinity, and and "
" By George, it's a good plan, Balser ! "
said I ; " there is hope."
" Of course there is," he responded.
From that hour I too was afire with the
treasure fever.
Next morning when we awakened, the
weather had turned cold again, and we de-
cided not to move until we saw further indi-
cations of a break.
The latter part of a cold winter is the best
time to take fur-bearing animals. They long
for spring and come out of their burrows in
search of food. It was during February that
we captured most of the beavers taken by lis
that year. February was the cream of the
season, as I might say. In ten days we took
more than fifty beaver pelts, twice as many
minks, and a score of weasels. We killed no
less than a dozen red foxes, and so many
muskrats and coons that we lost count. Of
i 4 2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
course, we devoted most of our time to hunt-
ing beavers, because their fur was far more
valuable than that of any other animal we
could take except bear. As I have told you,
the weather turned cold again; so we re-
mained, and we did take a fine lot of skins.
I remember breaking up a beaver dam that
extended entirely across the creek about a
mile above the cabin. The dam was most
cunningly constructed. No man could have
built a better one. It was made of the branches
of trees and logs. Many of the logs were six
inches in diameter. The branches and logs
were knit together most adroitly and were
covered with leaves, grass, and mud. So com-
pletely did the dam obstruct the creek that a
mill-pond was created extending nearly half
a mile up-stream.
On the morning that we made the great
haul, we found all our traps full. We killed
the beavers that had been caught in the traps
by striking them on the head with a heavy
club. After we had emptied our traps, Balser
walked out on the dam and found that the
warm weather had melted the ice in places
about the logs and tree branches. He tried
to loosen them and soon found several that
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 143
yielded to his efforts. He drew out three or
four loose logs, and then thrust a long pole
down into the dam. This, of course, caused
consternation among the poor little beavers,
and they began to run out through the tunnel
that served them as a doorway and opened
above the water line on the bank. I stood
at the opening, club in hand, and killed the
beavers as they came out. That morning, I
think, we got twenty-two.
It seemed cruel to kill the beautiful little ani-
mals, and I was sore of conscience, but there
were two good reasons for killing them. One
was that we wanted their pelts. That reason
alone might not have justified us, but the
second one did. It was this: no orchard
could live in the neighborhood of a beaver
dam. The little pests gnawed the bark from
the young fruit trees and killed them as fast
as the farmers could plant them. But they
did even greater damage than this. Their
dams blockaded the streams, backing the
water over the bottom land and ruining the
ground for agricultural purposes.
I have heard a great deal of sympathy ex-
pressed for the thousands of wild animals
that were slaughtered by the settlers in early
144 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
days; but it was war to the death between
man and the beasts of the forest. The set-
tlers' greatest enemy was these wild animals.
The fox, the mink, the weasel, the coon, and
the muskrat would often depopulate a large
poultry yard in one night. Turkeys, chick-
ens, ducks, and geese could be raised only by
keeping them constantly in sight or by con-
fining them in substantial buildings, and the
farmers were too poor to construct these.
Two or three bears and a herd of deer
once destroyed a large field of young corn
for my father. In one night he lost an en-
tire season's work by their depredations. I
remember one winter Balser's father lost six
fine fat shoats that he was saving for his
winter's meat. Bears killed them all in one
night. Bill Raster lost nineteen sheep be-
tween sunset and sunrise. I tell you, the
settlers had to kill the game or move out of
the country. But I was always soft-hearted
about it, and now that the poor animals are
conquered, I would not shoot one in cold
blood.
I have hunted the beasts and the birds of
the forest as much, I suppose, as any man of
my years, but I stopped when the foe was
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 145
conquered, and now the poor wild things
should be allowed to live. There are not
many left, and the rich farmer of to-day is
able to protect himself against them. But
when I was a boy we had to kill them in self-
defence.
But I must get back to the story of the
flood. The weather remained cold, and
Balser and I were so busy taking pelts that
we forgot what we had said about the thaw.
During the warm days the ice had broken,
and it was banked up in huge piles at the
drifts and bends in the creek. The drifted
ice so completely dammed the stream in
many places that a warm day and a heavy
rain might flood us in a few hours, but we
clung to the cabin.
One morning we awakened to find the sun
as bright and almost as warm as on a fair
May day. Two such days would spoil the
snow.
After feeding Solomon, Balser came back
to the cabin, where I was getting breakfast,
and said :
" We'll go home to-morrow, sure, Tom
Andy Bill, or we will be flooded."
By noon the weather was warmer, the sky
146 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
was overcast with clouds, and the rain began
to fall in torrents. We knew then that the
flood would soon come, so we prepared for
instant flight. But we had waited too long.
By four o'clock the flood was coming down
the creek like a tidal wave, and by six
o'clock we were on an island of perhaps
twenty acres in extent.
Part of the island it may have been as
much as four or five acres was higher
than the ground on which our cabin and
Solomon's stable stood. The flood could
not reach the highest point. We hoped the
water would not reach the cabin, though
when we turned in that night, we were not
at all sure that we would not be afloat before
morning. But when we woke up, the water
was still quite a distance below the cabin,
and we felt confident it would not reach us
unless the rain continued for an unusual
period. But the rain did continue.
For a day or two Balser and I were busily
engaged in packing away our pelts in bundles
and in removing them to the higher ground,
where we constructed a rude shelter of tree
branches and swamp grass straw. The
work did not last long, and when it was fin*
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 147
ished we had nothing to do but to sit about
the cabin and talk "treasure." When the
rain ceased, the sun shone out gladly, and
the air was as balmy as in spring. The
country, at that time, was not drained as it is
now; therefore the floods passed off slowly.
The great quantities of melting snow also
prolonged the flood, and it seemed to Balser
and me that the yellow, turbid water had
come to stay. Several days of bright, warm
sunshine passed, until at length the grass
began to grow, and the wild flowers and
even the leaves of the trees were coaxed into
bud before their time. Balser and I were
growing tired of our imprisonment, but a
more serious matter confronted us. Our
provisions were running short. The warm
weather had spoiled our fresh meat, and
our meal and potatoes were rapidly disap-
pearing. There was no game on the island
that we had been able to find. The wild
inhabitants of the forest had been wise
enough to move before the flood.
Day after day we loafed about aimlessly
until we were tired of even our treasure
dreams. We would sit by the creek or in
the cabin, and often, when the sun was warm,
148 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
we would stretch ourselves in a bright spot
on the new grass and the wild flowers, and
would " snooze " like sleepy cats, waiting for
the flood to ebb.
One bright, warm day I stretched myself
in a patch of sunshine a few hundred yards
from the cabin. I don't know how long I
had been sleeping when I was awakened by
the touch of something cold on my face.
When I opened my eyes, I gazed up into
an inquisitive-looking, sharp-snouted, black,
frowsy little countenance that seemed to be
laughing at me. It was the cold nose be-
longing to this little face that had disturbed
my slumbers. Just above the saucy little
face was a larger one, and Moses! maybe
I wasn't frightened ! What I saw was a
bear cub and its mother.
I shouted in my fright and began to rise.
The bears were as much frightened as I and
quickly turned tail. I sat up and looked
after them, taking considerable satisfaction
from the feeling that I had frightened them
as badly as they had frightened me. There
were three in the bear family the mother
and two cubs. A mother bear with cubs
doesn't run far if her children lag behind.
"The bkars were as much frightened as I
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 149
I suppose no animal that lives, not even a
doe, is as curious as a bear cub.
After my friends had retreated to a little
distance, the cubs turned to look at me.
They seemed to laugh at the curious object
they had disturbed, and doubtless thinking
that I was an animated log, wanted to ex-
amine the natural wonder.
I stood where I had risen, and presently
the mother bear grunted not unlike a pig,
summoning her children to follow her. The
disobedient cubs did not move, and she
came back to them, placed herself between
me and her babies, and rose defiantly to her
feet, as if to say, " Don't you touch one of
my cubs." I stood still, and soon the mother
bear fell to all fours, turned toward the cubs,
and placing her long snout under them, be-
gan to root them forward as a pig roots the
ground.
It was amusing and beautiful to see the
great, clumsy, loving mother trying to "root"
her children out of danger. I watched her
for a long time. She gave the stubborn cubs
a boost forward with her snout, scolding them
with grunts and growls the while, and turn-
ing every few seconds toward me, half in
150 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
anger, half in fear. I could plainly hear her
say to the cubs :
" Go on, you little fools. Don't you know
that is a man, the most dangerous animal in
the world ? "
But the cubs, like many another fool that
doesn't know danger when he sees it and
mistakes his lack of wisdom for bravery,
wanted to see more of this dangerous ani-
mal and tried to run back to me. They
were not afraid ! No, not they ! At such
times the poor old mother bear would run
clumsily after the awkward cubs, growling,
grunting, and scolding in great tribulation.
Presently she became angry in earnest, and
struck one of the cubs a blow with her
paw that sent it tumbling down a little
hill, howling and whining as if it were
being killed. After that the youngsters
toddled on ahead while the old bear, anx-
iously glancing back at me, waddled after
them and soon disappeared in the thicket.
I followed, but lost them in the underbrush,
and returned to the cabin.
I told Balser of my adventure, when we at
once shouldered our guns and started in pur-
suit. We forgot the dogs and left them
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 151
sleeping on the sunny side of the cabin.
Afterward we were glad that we had not
disturbed their rest.
The island was small, and we felt sure the
old bear would not try to escape by swim-
ming because we supposed her cubs could
not follow her. They would perish in the
water, which was cold and broad and swift,
too cold and broad and swift for even Balser
or me to try to swim, and the loving old
bear would never desert her cubs. She
would bravely stay by their side, and would
give her life to save them without one thought
of herself. Balser and I, therefore, felt sure
that we could not fail to bag the whole
family.
We hurried to the spot where the bears
had entered the thicket, thrust aside the
bushes, and soon took up the spoor on the
soft ground. The tracks were plainly visible
and were always in the same relative position
the cubs in front and the mother in the
place of danger, guarding their retreat.
I confess my heart softened when I thought
of the old mother bear holding her life as
nothing for the sake of her cubs, but my
sympathy did not check our pursuit.
152 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
We moved cautiously and silently, with
guns always ready for instant use, for we
knew that the mother bear would fight like
forty demons when she learned that her cubs
were in danger. We knew that when she
saw us and realized that we were after her
children, she would charge upon us without
the slightest fear. She would, if she could,
engage us at peril of her own life while her
cubs escaped, and would gladly give us every
drop of her blood to save her young. I felt
like a wolf a cowardly wolf. But it seemed
to be our duty to kill the bears, and we
hurried forward on our mission of death.
We made slow progress through the thicket,
but we knew we could not have far to go
until the water would stop us and the
bears.
After we had followed the tracks a short
distance into the thicket, we came to a small
hill upon which grew several large walnut
trees. We ascended the hill and as our heads
rose above the crest, we saw the mother bear
and her cubs playing in a small sunlit ravine
just below us. We each hid behind a large
tree to watch them.
Poor old mother bear ! She thought she
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 153
had taken her family to a place of safety, but
no place is safe from that most dangerous of all
animals, man. Believing herself safe, she had
relaxed her vigilance and was playing with
her babies. No prettier sight ever greeted
the eyes of a murderous hunter. She lay
upon her back with all four feet in the air, and
when the playful cubs ran to her, she pushed
them away with her great, horny paw as
gently as a mother touches the chin of the
babe cooing in her lap. Then she would let
them clutch her paw or her great, hairy throat
between their baby jaws, and would allow
them to " wool " her as a puppy does its play-
mate.
If, for a moment, being out of breath, the
cubs rested on their haunches, laughing and
panting with their little red mouths open
and their tongues hanging out, she would
incite them to renew the frolic by feinting
at them with her paws or by lifting her lips
from her white teeth in mimic anger. Then
the awkward, precious cubs would fall upon
her with fierce baby growls, and the dear
old mother bear, all unconscious of the over-
hanging shadow of death, revelled in the
sweetest bliss that bear or man can know.
i 5 4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
For five minutes Balser and I watched the
touching little comedy with its impending
tragic end. When the cubs were tired and
out of breath, they lay down beside the mother
in the balmy warmth of the sun, and she
licked their downy sides till they shone with
the lustre of her love. Twice I saw Balser
lift his gun to fire, but twice he lowered it.
I glanced at his face, and I thought that tears
were in his eyes. I tried to lift my gun, but
some way my heart failed me.
" Don't be a fool, Tom Andy Bill," I said to
myself ; " you are as soft-hearted as a chicken."
I tried to coax myself to shoot and failing
in that, I tried to bully myself, but for a time
it was all of no avail. I could neither coax
nor drive myself to send the fatal bullet on
its mission of death. Presently I clinched
my teeth, determined to fire the shot. I
lifted my gun to my shoulder and glanced
toward Balser. He looked at me with a
curious expression on his face, and my gun
came down again. I shook my head dole-
fully, as if to say, " I can't do it," and he
shook his head, but neither of us spoke a
word. We watched the bears a moment
longer, and wishing to lead ourselves out of
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 155
temptation, noiselessly turned away and
started down the hill.
We stole back to the crest of the hill for
one more look, and saw the mother bear
stretched full length in the sunshine, the two
cubs lying with their frowsy baby heads rest-
ing upon her brave, tender heart. I would
not have killed her for all the Wyandotte
treasure laid at my feet.
We went back in silence to our cabin, and
Balser began to prepare supper.
" The meal is getting dangerously low,"
said he, " and there's not over two pecks of
potatoes left. If the flood doesn't soon go
down, we may have to kill the old bear or
starve."
" I'll swim for it first," said I. " I'll let the
old bear alone if she doesn't bother me."
" Did you ever see anything more beauti-
ful ? " asked Balser.
" It was human," I answered; "and all my
life I'll be glad to think that I had enough
humanity in my heart not to kill her."
" God seems to have scattered love broad-
cast on this earth," said Balser, who should
have been a poet. " I believe it is the magic
bond that holds the world together."
156 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
The longer I live, the more convinced I
am that he was right.
That night the rain came on again. My
life, how it did pour down ! Soon after dark
it came in torrents. We lay for a long time
listening to the fierce patter on the roof,
talking about the mother bear and dreaming
of Wyandotte's treasure ; but our eyes were
always full of sleep and nothing could keep us
awake for long.
At times during the night we were awak-
ened by thunder. How it did boom and
rumble ! It seemed as if the sky were scold-
ing the earth with the voices of a thousand
cannon. The lightning, too, was like a con-
stant conflagration in the clouds, but we soon
grew accustomed to the fierce war and went
to sleep again.
I don't know how long we had slept when
I was aroused by the barking of Tige and
Prince just outside the door.
" Keep still ! " I shouted, but the dogs con-
tinued to bark, and I, becoming angry, rose
and opened the door to silence them. When
I put my feet down to the floor from the
slightly elevated platform on which we had
made our bed, I stepped into three inches of
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 157
water, and you may be sure I was frightened
and surprised. I aroused Balser, saying :
" The flood is upon us ! Hurry ! Hurry ! "
He drowsily rubbed his eyes.
What's the matter ? " he asked. " Do lie
down and let a fellow sleep. You prowl
about like a night owl."
For answer I drew him to the edge of the
bed and rolled him off into the cold water.
That opened his eyes, and maybe he wasn't
mad ! But I had no time to waste in wordy
explanations.
The fire was drowned out and the cabin
floor was all afloat. Balser quickly arose
from his early morning bath. Without a
word we each began to gather armloads of
provisions, guns, and utensils, and at once
started for the high ground.
The night was so dark that we could hardly
see our way, but we knew the path, and very
soon we had deposited our loads out of reach
of the water. Then we went back for another
load. Fortunately our belongings were few,
and the second trip saved all our valuables.
The rain was still falling in torrents and
the night seemed to grow blacker after each
flash of lightning. We placed all our perish-
158 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
able goods under the shelter prepared for
the pelts, but we had no roof for ourselves.
We congratulated each other on our lucky
escape with the provisions, etc., and while we
were wondering if we had left anything in
the cabin, we were startled by a song a
complaining tearful wail from Solomon.
We had forgotten the poor wise one, and he
was grieved and hurt, as we could easily dis-
cover from the emotional tremor in his voice.
Without a word we both ran to Solomon's
rescue. When we reached his stable, we
found him standing knee-deep in water, the
picture of woe. I quickly haltered him and
led him out. He, of course, was justly pro-
voked; but when we reached the high ground,
Balser stroked his ears by way of apology
for our neglect, and the wise one's accus-
tomed good nature soon returned.
While Balser was stroking Solomon's ears,
I thought of the powder keg.
" Our powder ! " I cried.
Again we hurried back to the stable, but
the powder could not be found. We res-
cued Solomon's harness and collected a few
dozen ears of corn ; then we hurried back to
safety, for the water was rising rapidly.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 159
It must have been well toward morning
when we were aroused by the water, but we
thought the night would never end. If you
want to know just how long an hour is, stand
out in the pouring rain on a pitch black
night, and wait for the sun to come up.
Time flies for the happy man, drags for the
dull man, and dies for the one in trouble.
That night we thought that Time was dead
and buried ; but Time never really dies, and
after a weary while he lifted up the sun to
look upon two of the most uncomfortable
boys that ever fell under the luminary's gaze.
Toward noon the rain ceased and the sun
shone out with a barefaced effrontery that
would have made you think he was uncon-
scious of the fact that he had been shame-
fully lazy in rising.
We tried to build a fire, but everything,
including our tinder box, was wet, and we
had to content ourselves with a few raw po-
tatoes and a handful of uncooked meal for
breakfast and dinner.
" I wonder where the bear is," said Bal-
ser.
" Let's find her," I suggested. " The high
ground cannot be more than five acres
160 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
in extent, and she is not far away with her
cubs."
We started out with our guns to find the
bear but not to kill her. The guns were
taken solely as a means of self-defence. We
were not long in finding the poor old brute.
She had concealed herself and the cubs as
best she could beneath the low-lying branches
of a haw tree, where she had made a cosey
nest of leaves and straw. When she saw us
she at once prepared for battle, but we re-
treated and left her unmolested. I believe
that kindness in sufficient quantities will
soften the heart of anything that breathes
the breath of life, and this poor old mother
bear was no exception to the rule.
During the next five days a wonderful
thing happened. Balser and I had grown to
love the rough old mother bear, and so
deeply did she interest us that we could not
keep away from her nest under the haw tree.
We had nothing to do but to watch her and
to eat raw potatoes and uncooked meal ;
therefore we went to visit our neighbor
many times in the day. Soon she ceased to
snarl and growl at us unless we went too
near. She seemed to have learned that we
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 161
meant no harm to her and her dear ones, and
after a time she did not run back to her nest
when she saw us approaching.
On the fourth day she came quite close to
where Balser and I were sitting under a rude
bark shed that we had constructed. She
was ploughing up the ground with her nose,
searching for roots, and paid no attention
to us.
For a time we had great difficulty in re-
straining Tige and Prince, but after a few
sound thrashings they learned good manners
and did not molest the bears. Another pe-
culiar thing happened. Tige and Prince
had been the best bear fighters I have ever
known, but after their acquaintance with the
old mother bear and her cubs, and after we
had thrashed them for attacking her, they
were of no use in bear hunting. Frequently
in after days we tried to make them attack
bears, but we never succeeded.
Seven long days did we remain on that
island. One morning I think it was the
eighth day we saw a large boat, of the
scow pattern, coming toward us. My father
and Balser's father were in the boat, and
you may be sure there were two happy boys
162 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
dancing at the water's edge waiting for them.
They brought food and clothing, and I do
believe we would have killed ourselves eating
had our fathers not restrained us.
We were not long in climbing into the
boat and starting for home. We took our
guns and sleeping-bags, but we left the pelts
until the water should subside, when we would
come back to fetch them.
We started off without Solomon, knowing
that he would follow us. He protested vio-
lently, indignantly, against our desertion ; but
when he saw that we really intended to leave
him, he plunged into the water, and, after a
hard swim, landed safely on the opposite bank.
While we were waiting for Solomon, we
thought we saw the old mother bear swim-
ming down-stream with her cubs clinging to
her. I am not willing to vouch for the last
statement, for I am not sure, but I believe it
is true. An old bear hunter once told me
that he had seen a mother bear swimming a
small lake with a cub on her back. I don't
know that he told the truth, but I like to
believe stories of that sort, and I'm going to
believe all I hear.
We got the pelts later on and took them
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 1O3
to Cincinnati, where we sold them. I'll teK
you sometime about our wonderful trip to
Cincinnati, and about our adventure with
the robbers on the way home ; but I am sleepy
now, and the Sandman has been troubling
Mab for quite a while.
Tom Andy Bill stopped speaking, and
after a minute or two of silence, Mab said :
"Thank you, Uncle Tom Andy Bill, for
not killing the mother bear."
" You are welcome, Mab," said Uncle Tom,
laughing, and then, turning to us, he said,
" Good night all ! "
" Good night all ! " echoed Mab, clinging
sleepily to the favorite finger, as she went off
to the beautiful home of the Sandman in the
drowsy Land of Nod.
CHAPTER VIII
LOST IN THE CAVE
" Tell us some more about a mother bear
and her cubs," suggested Mab, next evening,
while the audience was waiting for Uncle
Tom Andy Bill's story.
" I wish I could," he answered, " for I, too,
like mother bears. The one I told you
about is the only one I have ever known at
all intimately. They are very cautious while
raising their cubs, and usually make their
nests in secluded spots where they believe
they are safe from their mortal enemy. I
have heard it said that the father bear hunts
food for his family when the cubs are very
young, but I don't believe the story. The
father bear, in my opinion, is a very disrepu-
table personage, and so far as I have been
able to learn, looks out for ' number one ' and
lets his wife take care of herself and the
babies.
" A man from Kentucky once told me a
164
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 165
story about a mother bear and a father bear
that reflected no credit on the latter. I don't
vouch for the truth of the story, though I
believe it. I have heard many strange anec-
dotes concerning wild animals, and so many
wonderful manifestations of their intelligence
have come under my own personal observa-
tion that I believe nearly all I hear, for I
know that the beasts of the forest do more
thinking that goes straight to the point than
the average white man does. I don't, how-
ever, vouch for anything that I haven't seen,
but I don't want any one to doubt what I
say I have seen."
" What was the story of the man from
Kentucky ? " asked Mab.
" Oh, it wasn't much," said Uncle Tom
Andy Bill. " It wasn't a story, it was a mere
incident. He said that one day he and his
wife had been to town and that when they
returned, and were approaching their cabin,
situated in a lonely part of the forest, they
heard a terrific squealing in his pig-pen.
He ran to the barnyard to learn the trouble.
He suspected that bears were after his shoat,
and he was right.
" A short distance from the pen were two
166 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
bears and two cubs. The father bear was
cuffing his wife unmercifully in an endeavor
to make her climb the walls of the pig-pen
and bring out the one lone shoat it contained.
The shoat knew its danger and was squeal-
ing for dear life. The bears did not at first
see the man.
" After considerable coaxing and many
blows, the bear husband induced his wife to
go into the pen and get the shoat. Over
she went, and the pig squealed as it never
had squealed before. The man tried to
frighten the intruders away, but he had
loaned his gun to a neighbor, and the bears
were aware of the fact that is, the man
said they were aware of it. At any rate, they
saw he had no gun, and he said they told
him in grunts and growls to keep on his own
side of the fence.
" The man hated to lose his shoat, but
being deficient in courage, he did not molest
the bears. From a safe distance he saw the
she bear climb into the pen, seize the shoat
in her arms, and take it to her husband.
When she brought it to him, what do you
suppose he did ? "
" He kissed her," suggested Mab.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 167
" No," answered Uncle Tom Andy Bill.
" He knocked her over, took the shoat away
from her, went off by himself, and ate it to
the last bone, without giving his wife one
mouthful. It is something disgusting to
see how like a certain class of human beings
some animals can act.
" When the father bear had eaten the last
of the shoat, the disappointed old mother
bear went back to the pen and put her paws
on the top rail to see if, by any chance, she
had overlooked a shoat. Disappointed in
the matter of young pork, she deliberately
marched around the barnyard fence and ap-
proached the house with all the effrontery of
a tramp.
" I suppose the man must have been right
when he said that the bears knew the gun
was visiting. The mother bear nosed about
the house, poked her snout in at the kitchen
door, and then started out to look for the
milk-house with the hungry cubs toddling,
waddling, and squealing at her heels.
" The man's wife was frightened at first,
and, he said, she climbed a tree ; but when
she recovered her composure, she climbed
down from the tree, went to the house, took
168 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
a shovelful of coals from the fireplace, and
followed Madame Bear and her family into
the milk-house.
" When the woman entered the milk-house
and saw the bear and cubs drinking her milk
and eating her butter, she was so angry that
she threw the shovelful of hot coals in the
bear's face, and so belabored it with her
shovel that the surprised intruder beat a
hasty retreat. But the woman's ' mad ' was
up, so she seized an axe, ran after the bear,
struck it a mighty blow on the head, and
the poor little cubs were motherless.
" After the woman had killed the mother
bear, she easily killed the cubs, and then
started out to hunt for the father bear. But
he had escaped to the woods and, doubtless,
told his friends how he had stolen a fine, fat
shoat right from under a farmer's nose. The
woman's husband went to town next day
and told his friends how 'we killed three
bears up at our house yesterday.' So you
see it isn't only a bear that sometimes acts
'human-like.' There are animals calling
themselves men that sometimes act 'bear-
like.'
" Reason ? Of course animals reason. I
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 169
once heard of a fox that walked backward a
quarter of a mile to throw his pursuers off
the track. I expected you to laugh at that
statement, but I believe the story. I have
known foxes to drag their brushes over their
tracks in the snow to obliterate them. Man
is a vain coxcomb to suppose that he does
all the thinking that is done in this world.
There was once a dog in Central Park, New
York City, that counted the sheep as they
entered the fold. I saw him do it. By a
little effort I believe that dog could have
been taught vulgar fractions."
Uncle Tom Andy Bill silently puffed his
pipe, and the audience soon began to stir
nervously in their chairs, waiting for the
main show. After a few minutes, Mab, as
usual, lifted her soft, coaxing hand and
gently grasped the favorite finger. Even
that did not start the performance. The
gallery, consisting of the small boys, was
growing anxious, and little Die, hoping to
help matters along, asked :
" Did you ever get the pelts, Uncle Tom ? "
" Indeed we did get them. There was
nearly a wagon load of the finest fur that
was ever taken on Blue River. We sold it
170 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
at Cincinnati, and well, I'll tell you about
it. I've been wondering what I could tell
you to-night, and that will make a fairly
good story. We had at least one stirring
adventure, and we brought back with us
we brought back with us a a girl. We
found her we found her and and "
Uncle Tom Andy Bill stopped speaking.
His great eyes glowed tenderly on Mab.
He placed his hand lovingly on her head,
gazed dreamily into the fire, and after a long
pause, continued :
" We found her on our way home, and
after I tell you about our trip to Cincinnati
and our search for Wyandotte's cave, I will
tell you of the adventure that resulted in our
finding the girl."
THE STORY
After the corn was laid by that summer,
Balser and I took my father's team and
covered wagon, loaded in the pelts, and
started southeast on the famous Michigan
Road for Cincinnati. In addition to provi-
sions necessary for the journey, we had an
iron pot, a skillet, and a Dutch oven. The
latter was a very useful utensil. It was a
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 171
flat-bottomed round pot, eight inches in diam-
eter and five inches deep, resting on three
legs three inches high, and having a close-
fitting top.
When we wished to use the Dutch oven,
we heated it in the fire ; then we drew it
out and placed it over the hot ashes. Live
coals were collected near the oven to keep
it warm, but we were careful not to have the
coals too close, lest it become overheated
and burn the contents. We placed the corn
pone (or whatever article we wished to bake)
inside the oven, covered it with the top, and
soon the heat of the ashes and the coals
baked our supper for us beautifully.
We started from home on the last day of
July, and the weather being warm and
pleasant, we slept comfortably under the
wagon. There were many inns along the
road, but to stop at them would have re-
quired money, and we had very little of that.
We therefore camped out, and preferred our
bed on the ground to any that could be
found in a tavern. When it rained, we
spread our bearskins over the pelts inside the
wagon and slept there as dry as a powder-
horn.
172 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
We had often heard of a band of robbers
that lived, it was said, north of the Michigan
Road in the heart of a great, forest-covered
swamp. It was rumored that the band con-
sisted of one family, and it was often hinted
that they were related to certain of the inn-
keepers along the road. No one knew much
about them, and those who knew anything
wanted to know less.
Once in a long while the plundering of a
wagon was reported, but the robbers usually
confined themselves to the gentle art of
horse stealing. It was supposed that they
sold their horses to dealers in Cincinnati
with whom the thieves were in league.
The exact locality of the robbers' home
had never been ascertained. Some claimed
that they lived within a few miles of Cin-
cinnati ; others said that their home was fifty
or sixty miles west of that city ; but all
agreed that it was in the midst of a dark
forest and was surrounded by a swamp im-
passable to all save those who knew the key
to the labyrinth leading to the robbers' abode.
As I have told you, certain taverns along
the road bore a bad reputation because of
their supposed connection with this robber
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 173
band. But no one could say with certainty
that he knew the reputation was deserved by
any one of the taverns until Balser and I
discovered one that, as we learnt without
question and to our sorrow, did deserve all
the evil that could be said of it. But this
occurred on our return journey from Cin-
cinnati, and I'll not tell you about it until its
turn comes. It was said that the family of
robbers bore the name of Wolf. Whatever
their names may have been, they were known
throughout the length of the Michigan Road
as " The Wolves," and beyond doubt they
deserved their name.
For two days and nights after Balser and
I started for Cincinnati, the weather was
fine. We left home before sun-up one morn-
ing and drove till eleven o'clock. At that
hour, the day being very hot, we halted in a
beautiful little grove of water elms that grew
beside a sparkling, spring-fed creek and
gave a shadowy coolness to its limpid pools.
We unhitched the horses, took off their
harness, watered them, and after they had
rolled over and over on the soft green sod,
we gave them their corn. When they had
eaten their dinner, we knee-haltered them
174 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
and turned them out to graze. After Balser
and I had eaten our dinner we lay down in
the shade, and Balser said we kept each
other awake snoring.
We rested until the greatest heat of the
day was past ; then we hitched up and drove
along slowly through the dust and the sun-
shine till supper time. We did not unhitch
for supper, but hurried through the meal and
started on the road.
By ten o'clock we reached another creek,
and there we camped for the night, sleeping
in the open air under a rich elm canopy.
We were tired, and though ten o'clock was a
very late hour for us to be awake, we did not
go to sleep at once. After we had turned
in on our bed of sod, everything was so still
for a time that the air seemed fairly to buzz.
We were almost asleep when suddenly
there came from the branches of the tree
above us a booming, roaring, reverberating
" To-hoo, to-hoo, to-hoo ! " I sprang to my
feet, so frightened that my hair stood out
"like quills upon the fretful porcupine."
The doleful sounds came from an owl that
probably imagined it was singing. Previous
to that time I had supposed that no living
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 175
bird could emit so terrific a sound. Balser,
too, sprang up, frightened, and then we
laughed at each other till the tears came.
I threw a stone into the tree, and the owl
flew away. It did not go far, and soon again
it began to sing, keeping up the serenade at
intervals all night.
After a time the mournful notes of a whip-
poor-will came to us from the limbs of a
dead tree a short distance up-stream, and
now and then the voice of a wakeful turtle-
dove would come in its sad, cooing cadence
through the balmy, star-pierced blue of the
silence-laden night. Once in a while we
heard the " peep, peep, peep " of a drowsy
bird roosting in the branches above us, and
ever the fitful sighing of the wind, breathing
upon the leaves, set them whispering till we
fancied that the air was full of fairies and
the fairies full of song. But at last we went
to sleep.
After a few hours we awakened just before
the dawn. The night concert had ceased
and the silence could almost be felt. We
plunged into the creek for a bath, and just
as we emerged from the water the sun
shot his first messengers of gray over the
176 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
t
eastern edge of the world. Then you should
have heard the morning concert break forth
like a band of a thousand pieces.
The owl and the whip-poor-will were
silent ; but, bless your souls ! you should have
heard the meadow lark trying to ruin his
voice on the high notes. You should have
heard dear old " Bob White " whistling for
dear life, evidently under the impression that
he was an animated fife. Robin Redbreast,
screaming for joy, probably thought he was
a cornet or a trombone. Redbird, too, tried
to burst his throat in his effort to convince
the world that he was a flute, but above all
came the marvellous voice of the conductor.
He played all the instruments from the fife
to the trombone, and so exquisite was his
music that the very sun himself seemed to
hasten forward to catch even the softest
notes of the mocking-bird. No man knows
how much happiness there is in the world
till he hears the birds of the wildwood sing
at dawn.
We travelled along for two or three days
without adventure, but, on the evening of the
third day, dark clouds began to gather in
the southwest. The day had been terribly
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 177
hot, and the air was so still that it seemed to
be dead, save for fitful gusts of wind that came
and went at times, like the flight of a bat.
" We'll have a terrible storm to-night,"
said Balser, "and it will come up pretty
quickly. Let's halt and unhitch."
" I'm agreed," said I, and we drew rein in
the open, as far as possible from a tree.
Trees, it is said, draw lightning, and we
knew that the fireworks of heaven would
soon begin.
We hitched and fed the horses, then pre-
pared our bed inside the wagon. Near us
was a low-growing thorn bush covered with
a dense, tangled mass of wild grape vines.
At first we thought of sleeping under it,
but we changed our minds and concluded
to use it as a shelter for our fire.
Soon after we had eaten supper the wind
began to rise. The lightning in the black
clouds to the southwest played vividly, and
the thunder roared as if it were a genie try-
ing to frighten the earth. When the rain
began, we climbed into the wagon. For a
time we listened to the fierce patter on our
canvas wagon top, but sleep soon claimed
us, and for our ears the storm was still.
178 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
In the middle of the night we were
awakened by the howling of wolves. Our
first thought was of the horses, so we seized
our guns, that hung just beneath the top of
the wagon, and climbed out into the storm.
The vine-covered thorn bush had protected
our fire from the rain, and the wind had
fanned the logs into a blaze.
When we climbed down from the wagon,
we saw a doe, with a fawn at her side, standing
panting between us and the fire, not five feet
from the horses. Three or four yards from
the wagon stood two wolves. By the light
of the fire we saw the dim outlines of their
forms, and at intervals we heard their half-
muttered growls. We also saw their eyes
gleaming with reflected light like red-hot
embers. The doe did not offer to run when
she saw us. She had brought her fawn to
us for protection against the wolves.
You may doubt this story, but long after
that night, Gordon Cumming, a great African
hunter, had the same experience with a fright-
ened eland, and tells of it in his wonderful
book. I lifted my gun and fired at the em-
ber-like eyes. One wolf dropped, and the
other quickly took himself off. The panting
' She had come ro its for proi hi ion "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 179
doe remained by the horses till morning, and
left us, bearing away with her, I hope, a bet-
ter opinion of mankind than she had ever
before enjoyed.
The next evening we reached Cincinnati,
but we did not enter the city until the follow-
ing morning, preferring to camp out and save
the cost of lodging and meals.
We went to the fur dealer to whom we
had been directed, and sold our furs for the
enormous sum of three hundred and forty
dollars. Being rich, we went to Longworth's
famous tavern and took a room. We had a
fine dinner at noon, and after we had eaten,
and had counted our gold at least twenty
times, we started out to see the city.
We purchased a few presents for the folks
at home, and after great deliberation, we each
bought a silver watch, costing us twenty
dollars apiece. That silver watch was the
most beautiful object I had ever possessed,
and with it in my pocket, I wanted to know
the time at least every three minutes.
After we had seen the sights of the city, we
went down to the Ohio River. There we
saw boats moored to the wharf, and learned
that some of them were about to start down-
180 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
stream with their load of freight. We also
learned that these freight boats stopped at the
various settlements along the river, and that
bit of information put a thought into our
minds upon which we quickly acted. We
engaged passage on a keel boat that would
leave in an hour or two ; then we went back
to the tavern and wrote letters home to our
folks, telling them that we intended to go
down the river and might be away from home
several weeks. You may be sure we did not
mention Wyandotte's treasure, and the word
" cave " did not appear upon the pages of our
letters.
We paid our bill at the tavern, slung our
guns over our shoulder, left our money,
horses, and wagon in the care of the tavern
keeper, hurried down to the wharf, and went
aboard the boat, destined for the lower river
and, perchance, Wyandotte's cave.
The slow-going boat moved tediously from
town to town, and while the " hustlers "
pronounced " hoosier " by the negroes and
natives were unloading the freight at the
various settlements, Balser and I moved
about among the people, asking every one
we met if there was a cave in the vicinity.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 181
Many persons laughed at us, and one man
asked us if we were hunting treasure. His
remark disgusted us. Our inquiries failed to
elicit any information of a cave ; and after a
long, tedious trip, we reached the city of
Louisville, but, so far as we knew, we were
no nearer Wyandotte's cave than when we
left home.
We seemed so far away from Cincinnati
that we felt like returning ; but after discuss-
ing the matter, we concluded to take another
boat and go still farther down the river for
four days' journey. If, at the end of that time,
we learned nothing of a cave, we would make
our way back to Cincinnati, and would at
least have had the pleasure of the river voyage.
After leaving Louisville our boat stopped
at several settlements, but we heard no en-
couraging news until one day we drew up at
a little nest of houses on the north side of the
river, thirty or forty miles below Louisville.
We had asked so many questions about caves
that we had grown to expect a negative an-
swer ; but at the settlement of which I have
just spoken, we were told that there was a
large cave six or eight miles to the north and
east.
i82 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
We were almost overcome by sudden and
unexpected joy, and hurried back to the boat
to fetch our guns.
We remained at the settlement a day or
two before we found any one who could direct
us to the cave ; but we finally discovered an
old man who told us to go north till we came
to a creek, and to follow it for six or seven
miles till we reached the third house on the
south side of the creek. We would then be
in the neighborhood of the cave, he said, and
would be able to learn its exact location. He
had never been there, but he had heard from
others that the creek was three or four miles
north of the Ohio River, and that the cave was
six or seven miles to the east.
Balser and I bought provisions sufficient
to last us two weeks, shouldered our guns, and
started out to hunt for Wyandotte's cave,
having not the shadow of a doubt in our minds
that we would find it.
We started out one morning early, and after
climbing over several very impracticable hills,
reached the creek and then turned east-
ward, following its winding course. After
many hours' hard work, we came to the third
cabin on the south side of the creek. We
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 183
entered and asked the usual questions con-
cerning the cave. We had propounded them
so often that we knew them by rote and spoke
them parrot-like.
A woman at the house told us to go south,
to cross two hills and two ravines, and upon
the north side of the third hill, she said, she
thought we would find a cave. She was not
sure a cave was there, but she had been told
that runaway negroes from Kentucky some-
times hid in a cave that was said to be in the
heart of the hill. She told us they called it
" Nigger Hill."
The woman invited us to stay for dinner,
and while we were eating she asked us why
we wanted to see the cave. I thought she
could not fail to see the word "treasure"
written on my face. Balser, who was much
quicker of wit than I, spoke up briskly and
said :
" We heard that runaway slaves sometimes
hide in a cave about here, and we have been
sent to get its exact location."
" Then I am sorry I told you where it is,"
said the woman, " for I pity the poor slaves."
"Oh, so do we," returned Balser, hurriedly ;
" we would help them if we could."
184 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" You'd better not let any one hereabouts
hear you say that you would help a run-
away slave," suggested the woman. "You
would be tarred and feathered."
" Oh, we wouldn't help them," said Balser,
floundering about in his effort to correct his
mistake. " You see it's this way. We we
well, you know we're sorry, and the people
who sent us here are just curious to know
what the cave is like, that's all."
After dinner we started south for three
hills and two ravines. Over one hill we
climbed and down into ravine number one.
Up hill number two, down ravine number
two, and then we looked up the rocky side of
hill number three.
" If there isn't a cave in that hill," said I,
" there ought to be."
" If there isn't one there," answered Balser,
" there isn't a cave any place. What a barren
pile of gray, forbidding rocks it is. Tom
Andy Bill, we're at Wyandotte's cave just as
sure as you live."
" I hope you're right," said I ; " I wish you
could feel my heart beating."
"Just feel this," said Balser, placing my
hand over his heart.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 185
" Shades of Columbus, sit down, Balser !
Your heart's going to burst ! "
Excited ? Well, you should have seen us !
We were trembling as if with fear. There
didn't seem to be enough atmosphere in all
the country around to fill the requirements
of my lungs. We could feel the soft, oily
gold trickling through our fingers, and I
almost felt like reaching out my hand and
picking up one of the five treasure chests.
We had received seventeen beautiful double
eagles for our furs at Cincinnati, and had
counted them over and over in our room at
Longworth's tavern until I believe I should
have recognized any one of them a hundred
miles away from home. In fondling the
double eagles, we had learned to know the
" feel " of gold ; but what a pitiful sum three
hundred and forty dollars was compared to
the treasure that awaited us in the heart of
the stony hill.
" I feel sorry for myself," said Balser, " when
I think of how large that little pile of gold
looked to us."
"Dorit you ? " I answered. " Let us give it
to the poor."
You see I was getting to feel rich. My
186 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
dreams were becoming real, and I felt that
the treasury at Washington was poverty-
stricken compared to myself.
Balser laughed and said, " Perhaps we had
better keep the Cincinnati gold until we find
the treasure and get it home."
" All right," said I ; " here goes for the
cave and Wyandotte's chests."
We pretended to laugh at ourselves, but
the truth is, we knew that the treasure would
soon be ours. We bent our backs and started
up the rocky hill, each bearing his sack of
provisions slung over his shoulder. When
we got halfway up the hill, we halted at an
overhanging rock.
" Here is a fine place to make our camp,"
I suggested. " We can build our fire under
the south end of the rock and make our beds
under the north end, where we'll be safe from
sun, wind, or rain."
" It's the very place," said Balser. " We'll
gather a lot of rocks and build a little wall
reaching from the ground to the overhanging
rock, and we will have as cosey a home as
one could want."
The top of the hill was covered with trees
and we felt sure we should be able to gather
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 187
material for firewood and torches. We de-
posited our bags of provisions under the rock,
and Balser was for starting out at once in
search of the cave. I insisted upon building
the walls of our house first, but he wisely sug-
gested that we might find the cave that very
afternoon, and in that case, we could move
in and save ourselves the work of building
the wall.
It was four or five o'clock when we started
out with beating hearts to find the cave. I
was so sure of finding it at once that I
watched carefully where I stepped, for fear,
I suppose, of falling into it.
We prowled about, examining every nook
and corner among the rocks, till after six
o'clock. Then we went to the hilltop and
each took an armful of wood down to our new
home under the hanging rock. The weather
was warm, so we postponed our wall build-
ing till the morrow, lay down under the rock,
and went to sleep.
During the next five or six days we tramped
over the hillside in the blazing sun, working
fifteen or sixteen hours a day, but we found
no cave. By noon of the seventh day, we
felt that every rock in the hillside had been
188 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
examined, and our hearts were heavy with
disappointment, for we were ready to be
sworn that no cave existed on that hilL Our
seventeen double eagles at Cincinnati grad-
ually rose to par, and when we had despaired
of rinding the cave, they increased in value
till they once more looked like a fortune.
We concluded that we would not give them
to the poor yet.
After eating dinner on the day we gave up
our search, we sat for a while under the
rock, anxious yet loath to leave. Our fire
was built under the south end of the rock,
perhaps fifteen feet from where we were sit-
ting. Almost unconscious of what I was
doing, I threw several light pieces of wood
on the fire, and soon a great blaze sprang up.
I have before remarked upon the wonderful
potency of little things, and that act of mine
in carelessly tossing the wood upon the fire is
another marked illustration of what I mean.
We were sitting watching the fire when
Balser, for lack of anything else to say, re-
marked carelessly :
" I wonder what makes that fire suck in
toward the wall."
" Probably the wind blows it," I suggested.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL i8g
" But there's not a breath of wind," said
Balser.
I stepped outside to test the wind. There
was not enough to flutter a maple leaf. Still
the leaping flames bent toward the inner wall
of our house as if they were sucked in that
direction by a draught. The effect was so
pronounced that we began to look around
for an opening in the rock. We had never
thought to examine our own house for the
cave. At the extreme south end of our
overhanging rock, near the fire, was a large
boulder that we supposed formed the end
of the little open cavern in which we dwelt.
It was toward that boulder the flames were
drawn, and Balser and I made a dash for it.
Just beyond the boulder, plain as an open
door, was the entrance to a cave.
" Well, I am a fool," said Balser.
" I guess you're right," I answered, " but
what am I ? "
" The same," said Balser ; " and I wish
mother didn't object to swearing."
" Amen," answered I. " Here we have
been prowling about this hill in the hot sun
for nearly seven days, hunting for something
that was right under our noses."
190 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" That happens to many a man," said Bal
ser. u We needn't worry about the work we
have done. Let us go into the cave."
We stooped low and entered. Within ten
feet of the opening we passed into a high-
vaulted, dimly lighted chamber. We waited
for our eyes to become accustomed to the
gloom, and then we proceeded to look about.
" By George ! " whispered Balser, as if he
were afraid that some one might hear him ;
"this room is just as Wyandotte described
it."
" It is, indeed," I answered ; "I do be-
lieve we have stumbled into the god's home.
Isn't it the most marvellous thing that ever
happened ? "
When we could distinctly see objects
about us, we began our search for the
treasure, but the floor was of unbroken
rock and the side walls were smooth. Ten
minutes' work convinced us that there was
no treasure in that cave.
We had noticed a small opening in the
back of the chamber, and we felt sure it led
to the main cavern or caverns, since Wyan-
dotte had said there were many chambers
and corridors.
IS WYANDM-ITJ DKSCKIHKO II '!' WHISPERED BaLSKR "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 191
We remembered what he had told us
about the danger of getting lost, but we
classed that with the wolves and the guar-
dian demons, and gave no heed to his warn-
ing. The second opening was too low for
us to pass through even by stooping. We
examined it and found that the floor con-
sisted of a flat rock inclining downward at
a very steep angle.
We did not stop to consider that Wyan-
dotte might have been wrong in his descrip-
tion of the cave, or that the cave we were in
might not have been the one he described.
For all we knew, there might have been a
bottomless pit at the end of the little chute;
but we were intoxicated with our dreams of
gold, and took no thought of possible danger
ahead.
I looked down the slanting passageway,
but I could see nothing but darkness. The
fact that I did not know where I was going
to land did not deter me. I put my feet
into the narrow chute, lay down on my back,
and worked myself forward.
The inclining rock was covered with mois-
ture, and was so "slick " that I started down
at a much greater speed than I had antici-
192 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
pated. When it was too late, I began to won-
der where I was going to land, and visions of
a bottomless pit, broken bones, and a linger-
ing death flashed through my mind. They
were, however, soon dispelled, for in' less
than three seconds I had accomplished my
descent, and found myself sitting safely in
a little pool of very cold water at the foot
of the incline. I felt about me with my
hands and discovered a solid rock floor
similar to that of the first cavern.
" Hello, Tom Andy Bill ! " shouted Balser.
I answered back, " All right ! Come on ! "
and the next instant Balser was sitting in
the cold water.
The second cavern was much darker than
the first, but a faint stream of light entered
through the narrow chute, and in a little
while we could dimly see objects close to us.
" We'll have to have torches to examine
this cave," said I. " We can't see anything
in this Egyptian darkness."
" If we prowl about without a light," said
Balser, " we're apt to find ourselves at the
bottom of a hole and stay there. Let's go
out and get torches before going further."
I started to climb back over the slick in-
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 193
cline, and although it was not over fifteen
feet from the bottom to the top, I failed to
make it. If I made a little headway, I im-
mediately slipped back. At first we laughed,
and Balser tried the ascent ; but after we had
each failed many times, we began to be
frightened. The incline was much steeper
than we had supposed it to be.
We struggled frantically in our effort to
climb out, and soon we were almost ex-
hausted by excitement, fear, and exertion.
Trembling and drenched with perspiration,
we stood at the foot of the incline, and in
our hearts we cursed the treasure that had
led us into this trouble. For a time we could
hardly speak. The obstacle to be overcome
was so small, but the task of overcoming it
was so great, that we were in despair. The
thought of dying there, fifteen feet from light
and life, was maddening.
Suddenly Balser began to laugh and I
thought he was going mad. I took his hand
to comfort him, and he said :
"Tom Andy Bill, I s'pose that two such
fools as you and I are were never before
turned loose upon the world."
" I hope you're right," said I ; "it would
194 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
be a terrible infliction on the world if there
were many like us, for we certainly were
great fools to get ourselves into this scrape."
Balser laughed again and said : " Nonsense,
Tom Andy Bill, we're all right. We'll be
out of here in a minute. Listen to my plan.
I say we are fools because we had not thought
of it before. It is not more than twelve or
fifteen feet to the top of this inclined rock.
I'll start up. You push my feet till I get a
hold on the dry rock above. Then I'll turn
around, head down, and pull you out."
" Good," said I. " Balser, you're no fool,
whatever I am. I should have rotted here
before thinking of your plan."
Our spirits went up at once, and we ceased
to find any fault with the treasure for having
brought us to the cave.
Balser stretched himself in the chute, and
I, bracing my feet upon the floor below,
pushed him upward. All went well for a
time, and we thought we should soon be
out of our difficulty ; but when we were both
stretched at full length upon the slippery
inclined rock, we stopped in our ascent.
Balser could not reach the dry rock at the
top, therefore he could not draw himself up.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 19s
After a terrific struggle of five minutes,
I could hold him no longer. I took my
hands from his feet, and we both slid back
into the pool of water. Then we were
in trouble. I would have given anything
to be a girl for five minutes; I wanted to
cry.
We were so tired that we stepped back
from the mouth of the chute, feeling our way
cautiously as we went, and sat down on the
dry rock floor a short distance away from the
pool of water. After sitting there for a few
minutes, I happened to place my hand on
the floor and found that it was covered with
a fine gritty sand. Then it was that /con-
ceived a brilliant idea.
" There's sand on the floor, Balser," said I.
" Yes," he answered dolefully ; " I don't
care if it's gold-dust. What I want is to
get out of this awful place ; and if I once
get out, I wouldn't come back for all the
wealth of the world."
"The sand is more valuable to us than
gold-dust," I said. " We'll sprinkle it over
the slippery rock, and then we'll be able to
go up easily enough."
No sooner had I spoken than Balser was
196 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
filling his cap with the sand. I did likewise,
but when we began to toss it on the rock, I
suggested :
" Let us try to wipe some of the moisture
from the rock, and then we'll sprinkle on the
sand."
I took off my jacket and proceeded to dry
the rock with it as well as I could, and then
we sprinkled it with sand. After that we
easily climbed out, as thankful a pair of boys
as lived in all the world.
We hurried to the outer opening, and al-
though the sunlight almost blinded us, it
looked so sweet, tasted so sweet, and smelled
so sweet that we wanted to hug it to our
breasts and kiss it.
" No more gold for me," said Balser.
" Nor for me," I answered. " I don't want
anything better than pelts. I'm going home,
and any man that wants the treasure may
have it if he can get it."
We were very tired, and Balser looked as
though he had been through an attack of
sickness. After resting awhile, we built a
fire and ate our supper.
We did not care to start back home at
nightfall, so we concluded to sleep under the
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 197
rock one more night and make an early start
in the morning.
When we turned in, I got to thinking of
home and soon became so homesick that I
wanted to cry.
After two or three efforts to speak, I said,
" I wonder what mother is doing at home."
"Oh, don't!" cried Balser. "I'd give
Wyandotte's treasure, if I had it right now,
to see mother. Oh! wouldn't I just kiss
her?"
Despite my efforts, tears began to come to
my eyes, and I tried to whistle. I might as
well- have tried to thunder.
" I don't care who knows I want to cry,"
sobbed Balser.
" Neither do I," I replied, and after that I
suppose we both shed a few tears and were
very much comforted. Women don't know
what a luxurious privilege they enjoy. Our
nerves were overwrought by the terrible expe-
rience we had undergone, and we had never
before been so long, or so far, away from home.
Our nervous condition made the homesick-
ness all the harder to bear ; but the boy of
sixteen who cannot cry because he wants to
see his mother is lacking in the stuff that
198 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
goes to make the right kind of a man.
Sleep soon overcame us, and by morning we
were feeling much better.
While we were eating breakfast, Balser
remarked :
" It does seem a shame, Tom Andy Bill, to
go away without that gold when we almost
have it in our hands. We are over the
worst of the difficulties. We have solved
the problem of the chute. But I have a
plan that will make the ascent of that slip-
pery rock as simple as a, b, c. We'll cut a
pole eighteen or twenty feet long, and by the
help of the pole we can climb in and out
without any trouble."
I was delighted with the suggestion, and
we at once went to the top of the hill with
our hatchet, where we felled a small tree
that answered our purpose. First I tried
the descent of the chute and, by the help of
the pole, easily climbed out. That problem
settled, we prepared torches and started for
the treasure in real earnest.
After we had passed the chute, we lighted
our torches from fire we had taken in with
us and illumined the entire chamber. All
that day we spent in examining the cave, but
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 199
no sign of a possible hiding place for the
treasure chests could be found. The next
day we found other chambers of the cavern
and carefully examined them.
Toward the end of the second day's search
we discovered a passageway leading to a
very large cavern. When we entered it, we
could not see the ceiling by the light of our
torches, but we could distinctly see the lower
ends of great hanging pillars, called stalactites,
that hung down to within fifteen or twenty
feet of the floor. Springing from the floor
to meet these hanging columns were others
varying in height from two to fifteen feet.
It was all like a scene from fairyland, for the
rock was of white crystal, and glistened like
millions of diamonds in the light of our
torches.
Leading from and through this marvellous
chamber were many corridors that wound in
and out among the columns like the paths
of a labyrinth. Frequently we thought we
were lost, and for fear that catastrophe might
happen, we blazed our path by smoking the
rocks with our torches, so that we should be
able to find our way out again.
After we had admired the wonderful scene,
200 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
we began a careful examination of the cham-
ber and of all the corridors and caves open-
ing into it. Not a square foot of floor did
we leave unexamined ; not a spot where the
treasure could possibly be hidden did we fail
to investigate. We found no openings nor
chamber other than those we had entered and
inspected, and after a hard day's work we
gave up the search. Balser looked at his
watch and said it was five o'clock.
" There's no treasure here," said he, regret-
fully, "but I am glad we came. We have
been rewarded for our trouble by the sight
of this wonderful cave."
" I believe we have examined every square
foot of it," I answered. " There are no more
caves to be conquered. I think there is not
a spot in all these rooms that we have not
gone over a dozen times. This is not Wyan-
dotte's cave, or he lied about the treasure.
The old fellow was drunk when he told us
the story."
" I don't believe it is his cave," said Balser.
" We'll find the right cave one of these days,
and we'll get the treasure, Tom Andy Bill,
just as sure as my name is Balser."
" Well," said I, for perhaps the hundredth
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 201
time, " I hope you're right, but we have no
more business here, so let us get out and go
home."
We took up our smoke trail and had no
difficulty in finding our way back to the exit
from the room we had christened " The Mar-
ble Chamber." Just as we stooped to pass
under the low arch of the doorway, we heard
back of us, in the darkness, a whirring noise
not unlike that made by a strong wind blow-
ing through a leafless forest. The noise in-
creased rapidly and was most uncanny in its
effect. It frightened us, but before we could
learn the cause, we were struck from behind
as if by a shower of small stones. Our
torches were dashed from our hands and we
were thrown to the ground. Our lights were
instantly extinguished, and the noise contin-
ued for perhaps thirty seconds.
After it had ceased and as we lay upon the
floor of the cavern, Balser said :
" Bats ! I saw them by thousands cling-
ing to the roofs and walls of the cave."
He was right. Thousands of bats congre-
gated in the cave during the daylight and
flew out in great flocks when evening ap-
proached. The explanation was simple
202 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
enough, but the result was far from simple
for Balser and me. For the first time in my
life I realized what total darkness meant.
We sat where we had fallen, and every few
minutes the whirring noise passed over us.
It seemed that we had suddenly dropped
from heaven into a terrible inferno. After a
short time the noise ceased, and we knew
that the bats had all gone out for the night.
We supposed that it was dark outside. We
rose to our feet and began to grope around
to find, if possible, the passageway leading
out. Of course our smoke trail was of no
use to us in the dark. Life of me, how black
it was !
We could not find the outgoing corridor.
Several times we thought we had found it,
but we invariably came up against a stone
wall. We had been in great trouble at the
lower end of the slippery chute, but now
we were in utter despair. Our heads got
many a hard bump, and we learned the les-
son to " make haste slowly." We kept a
firm grasp on each other's hands, for had we
become separated we might not have been
able to get together again. The reverberat-
ing echoes of our voices were misleading, and
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 203
we should have had little chance of finding
each other by calling out, were we once parted.
I gripped Balser's hand so hard that he
cried out in pain, but you never saw two
boys stick closer together than we did in the
black heart of that awful rock. If we must
die, we would die together, and I tell you, it
looked very much as though that fate were
in store for us.
After bruising ourselves in every bone and
muscle, we gave up the fruitless search, sat
down on the floor to rest, and tried to com-
pose ourselves. We had been in the cave
a long while and were very tired.
" How long do you suppose we have been
here since the torches went out? " asked Bal-
ser.
" I'm blest if I know," I answered, "but it
has surely been eight or ten hours. Perhaps
it has been more."
We lay down and tried to sleep. I remem-
ber that we lay very close together, and while
we were trying to go to sleep, Balser said :
" You won't leave me, will you, Tom Andy
Bill?"
And I said, " No, and you won't leave me,
will you, Balser ? "
204 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
He grasped my hand in answer, and shut-
ting our eyes we again tried to sleep. We
lay on the floor for a long while, but sleep
would not come to us. We had no way of
knowing the time, but we supposed that we
had rested several hours when the whirring
noise that had preceded and accompanied
our trouble again approached.
"Just think of it, Tom Andy Bill," said
Balser, "the bats are going out again. It
is twenty-four hours since they knocked us
down. It seems like a month. I'm almost
choked with thirst, and I'm so hungry that
I'm weak."
I will not try to describe the horror of that
time. All the suffering of my life cannot be
compared with what I endured in the cave.
" My legs are cramped, and I am going to
move about," said Balser.
Then we got up and groped about the
cavern for exercise. We had lost nearly all
hope. After wandering about the chamber
for a long time, we lay down again, and
finally sleep came from sheer exhaustion. Of
course we did not know how long we slept,
but on awakening, we again heard the whir-
ring noise over our heads.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 205
" Good Lord ! The bats are going out
again for the night ! " said Balser. " We have
been here forty-eight hours. At first I was
afraid we would die, but now I am afraid we
will noC
Again we rose and groped our way about
the room. After what seemed a long while,
we rested again, and after a weary waiting
we once more heard the whirring noise. We
had lost all trace of time, but judging by the
flight of the bats, we supposed that we had
passed three days in the cave.
We felt so weak for lack of food and sleep
that we could hardly walk. At periods of
every few hours, as we supposed, we moved
about in the darkness for exercise.
At last, in one of these hopeless wander-
ings, we suddenly caught a faint glimmer of
light. Ah, the joy of it! In five minutes'
time we were climbing through the slippery
chute, and within two minutes more we were
out in the glad daylight. The gloaming was
just turning to night, but compared to the
darkness of the cave, we felt as if we were
looking into the full glare of the midday sun.
" I must have water," said Balser, who was
hoarse from weakness and thirst.
206 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
While he was drinking I mechanically
drew out my watch and looked at it.
"Say, Balser, my watch is still running,"
said I, "and I haven't wound it since we
went into the cave."
He drew his watch from his pocket and
said : " So is mine. Surely it could not have
kept going for three days, and I didn't once
think of it in the cave."
Then we looked at each other and began
to laugh, for it was only seven o'clock, and
we had been lost in the cave just two hours.
I wasn't nearly as hungry or thirsty or weak
when I found how we had been fooled re-
garding the time spent in the cave.
" I was actually so weak from hunger and
thirst," said Balser, "that I could hardly
stand alone."
" Don't say a word," said I.
Well, we were mighty glad to get out,
but two boys more thoroughly disgusted
with themselves than Balser Brent and Tom
Andy Bill Addison didn't live at that par-
ticular moment on the face of the earth.
We had no hope of finding Wyandotte's
treasure in that cave, so we left next morn-
ing and made our way back to Cincinnati,
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 207
where we arrived in due time, wiser if not
richer boys than when we left.
" I'll tell you about the trip home to-mor-
row evening if I don't go to church," said
Uncle Tom Andy Bill.
"You'll tell us, too, about the girl you
found, won't you ? " asked Mab.
" Yes, I'll tell you about her, too."
CHAPTER IX
THE ROBBERS IN THE SWAMP
Next evening Mab settled herself down
very close to our story-teller and said :
" Well, Uncle Tom, I'm glad you didn't
go to church to-night, but I hope no one
will knock you down for not going."
A murmur of laughter started over the
audience, but Uncle Tom Andy Bill raised
his hand warningly, and it was smothered.
No one should laugh at Mab when she was
in earnest. The baby girl had a keen sense
of humor, but it never found expression save
in words that were literally true. Neither did
she expect anything but the exact truth from
others. The result was that Uncle Tom
Andy Bill and a great many very good and
discerning persons worshipped at her little
shrine. After she had settled herself in her
tiny chair, and had spread her little skirts
contentedly, she looked up to Uncle Tom
Andy Bill and said :
208
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 209
" Now." That word was the tinkling bell
that raised the curtain, and Uncle Tom
Andy Bill began.
THE STORY
The morning after Balser and I reached
Cincinnati we received our money in a
canvas shot-bag from the tavern keeper,
placed it in a flour-sack along with the pres-
ents for the folks at home, hitched up the
horses, and started for Blue River. The
wagon was light, and the horses having had
a long rest in the stable, we travelled home-
ward at a brisk rate.
No adventure befell us until the second
evening, when we were about halfway home.
At the rate we travelled, we should have
been home on the evening of the second
day, and should have missed the adventure,
the results of which have affected my life
even down to this present moment, had we not
stopped at a little town called Napoleon to
witness a circus performance. But we did
stop, and that small incident, as I have told
you, has colored my whole life.
The circus threw us one day behind, and
at the end of the second day we drew up in a
2io UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
drizzling rain in front of an old, rambling, two-
story brick house that looked as if it had been
deserted by mankind and appropriated by a
family of ghosts. Thinking the house was
unoccupied, we concluded to camp in it for
the night; but after looking at it for a moment,
it seemed so lonesome and " haunted like "
that we were about to drive on, when an old
woman came to the door and said :
" 'Light, strangers. 'Light and come in !
You're very welcome, and it's going to be a
bad night. It's ten miles to the nearest
house."
" Let us go in and stay for the night," sug-
gested Balser.
" I'm agreed," said I, so we stopped.
While we were unhitching the horses, a
young girl perhaps fourteen years old came
out and proceeded to help us. Balser and I
gazed at her in wonder. Despite the coarse
rags that served her as clothing, despite her
unwashed face and unkempt hair, she was
beautiful beyond description. Her hair was
like a black sunlit cloud tossed by the caress-
ing wind. Her great violet eyes, fringed by
long black lashes and arched by pencilled eye-
brows, fairly shone with the lustre of health
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 211
and the glow of her soul. Her exquisite face,
with its dark, rosy complexion, was of a type
frequently met with under the blue skies of
Italy, but seldom found in this cold clime.
When the horses were unhitched, the girl
led one of them to the stable, and I followed,
leading the other.
" Put your horse in that stall," she said,
" and I'll put this one here."
I answered like a yokel, " Yes, ma'am."
" Shall I give them corn ? " she asked, and
again I said, " Yes, ma'am."
" They'll want water, I suppose," she sug-
gested. Again I responded brilliantly, " Yes,
ma'am."
" There's a bucket just outside the door
and the pump is at the end of the barn. You
get the water and I'll get the corn. Six ears
apiece ? " she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," said I.
When I returned with the water, she was
waiting to feed the horses. While they were
drinking I stood by her side, trying very hard
to think of something to say, but I failed, and
grew more and more embarrassed as the silence
continued. The girl was as composed as the
horses. After a long silence, she said :
212 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" You needn't call me ma'am. I'm just
Mab." She smiled, and Tom Andy Bill,
though very young, got his life sentence then
and there.
The girl and I talked for a while at the
barn. We didn't say much, but little as it
was, I don't intend to tell you about it. She
had the knack of making others feel easy in
her presence, and by the time we got to the
house, I had told her my name and the names
of all my relatives, where I lived, where we
had been, and all I knew that my con-
fusion would permit me to recall. In fact, we
were quite well acquainted.
When we entered the house, we found,
besides the old woman, an old man and two
other men who might have been any age from
forty to sixty. The old woman offered chairs
and Balser and I sat down. The old man
said " Howdy ? " but the other men arose and
left the room without speaking.
Soon after the two men had left, the old
man turned to me and said :
" B'en to Cincinnati, have ye ? "
" Yes," I answered.
" Like as not ye took a load o' furs down
about four weeks ago."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 213
I assented, and the old man continued :
" Seed ye drive by and 'lowed ye'd be back
by and by."
We did not answer, and after a brief silence
the old man again commenced his catechism :
" I 'low ye got a good bit o' money fer the
furs. I seed ye had a fine load of 'em."
" Yes," answered outspoken Balser, u we
got three hundred and forty dollars in gold."
I did not know why I was sorry that
Balser had spoken of our gold, but I was.
" Hope ye didn't leave the gold in any o'
them shaky Cincinnati banks," said the old
man.
" Indeed, we did not," returned Balser.
" We have it with us," and he produced the
shot-bag from the flour-sack.
When Balser said, "We have it with us,"
the girl sprang to her feet as if startled, and
I noticed an anxious, alarmed expression on
her face. It did not occur to me that these
old people could be robbers; therefore the
girl's curious little action passed unnoticed,
though I recalled it afterward. After Bal-
ser's outspoken reference to the gold, the old
man lapsed into silence, and in a few minutes
the old woman said :
214 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" Come, Mab, let's git supper. I expect
these gentlemen are hungry."
Mab followed the old woman into the
kitchen and shut the door. In a minute
or two I heard the woman speaking angrily
to the girl, and soon afterward I saw Mab
galloping away on the Michigan Road astride
a horse. In the course of half an hour we
were called out to supper, and when we had
finished, night had almost fallen. A storm
was blowing up from the southwest, and the
dim light of the gloaming was rapidly giving
place to inky darkness. The wind began to
sigh ominously, and soon the rainfall became
heavier. At eight o'clock the old man went
to bed, and at half-past eight the old woman
said :
" I 'low you're tired and want to sleep."
She was right, and we took kindly to her
suggestion.
" Just go up them steps," she said, " and
go into the room on the left-hand side. I
expect ye'll want an early breakfast so's to
get an early start."
We told her that we wished to get off
as early as possible, and then we went up-
stairs to bed, Balser carrying the flour-sack
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 215
into which we had put the gold, and I lead-
ing the way with an old tallow dip that gave
about as much illumination as two lightning
bugs.
After supper I had watched for the girl,
though I had not seen her.
There was one window in our room from
which two or three panes of glass were lack-
ing, and immediately outside the window
stood a walnut tree whose branches grew
very close to the house. Although we were
tired, we did not go to sleep at once, but lay
awake listening to the drizzling rain, and
receiving a splash now and then through the
half-glazed window.
An hour or two passed tediously, during
which I slept as they say a weasel sleeps,
with one eye open. Balser was asleep and
I was growing drowsy when I heard the
splash of horse's hoofs in the road, and was
instantly wide awake. Then I heard the
bars of the barnyard fall and soon the barn
door opened. In a minute or two it closed.
Then the door of the kitchen opened and
closed, and I knew the girl had returned.
I could not help wondering why she had
been out in the storm at that hour of the
216 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
night, but I had grown too sleepy to think
much about anything.
Soon after the kitchen door had opened
and closed, I fell into a light sleep, but I was
immediately awakened by a soft footfall on
the stairway, as if some one were approaching
our door stealthily in bare feet. Before I
was fully awake the door of our room opened
noiselessly, and a voice which I at once
recognized as Mab's, whispered :
" Don't speak."
She quickly ran over to our bed and
placed her lips close to my ear. Her warm
breath against my cheek was like an electric
shock, but she gave me no time to enjoy the
pleasure of it.
In a hurried whisper, she said : " Four
armed men will be here in less than five
minutes to take your gold. You must pre-
tend to sleep. If they know you are awake,
they will kill you and your friend, and will
bury you in the quagmire in the swamp.
They have often buried men alive there. It
has no bottom, and the bodies never come up
if once they sink. If the men learn that you
are awake, your friends will never know your
fate."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 217
" Can we escape ? " I whispered.
" No, no ! " she answered. " If you try,
they will overtake you and kill you. But
even if you had any chance of escaping, there
is not time to try. There they come up the
stairs. Listen. Go to sleep and I'll get
under the bed."
The girl had hardly disappeared under the
bed when the door opened and four men, one
of whom bore a tallow dip, entered the room.
The man with the dip approached our bed.
My eyes were closed, but I could distinguish
the light through my eyelids. I was desper-
ately afraid that Balser would awaken. Their
visit was short. In less than half a minute
they were gone, and I knew that our precious
bag of gold had gone with them. I sat up
in the bed and put my feet over the side.
" Sh ! ! Lie down ! " whispered the girl.
I lay down again, for I felt that Mab was
our friend, and I was sure that she knew
what was best for us. Soon I heard a door
shut downstairs, and then the girl came out
from her hiding-place. Again she put her
lips to my ear, and said :
" Make no disturbance, or you will never
leave here alive. To-morrow the old man
218 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
and the old woman will pretend to be in
great trouble because robbers broke into the
house and stole money from their guests.
The old woman will tell you that her money
also was stolen. If you seem to agree with
her, you will be allowed to leave in safety.
If you let her think that you suspect her
and the old man, you will die before noon.
Don't waken your friend, but let him think
you were asleep when the gold was stolen,
and encourage him to believe that the old
man and the old woman know nothing
of it. Don't tell him what I have told
you. I would not trust him, but I do trust
you."
Then a wonderful thing happened. She
kissed me on the forehead, and glided from
the room as noiselessly as a shadow.
Thoughts of her drove all remembrance
of the gold from my mind, and I lay in a sort
of ecstasy, dreaming open-eyed about her.
In the midst of my longing to see her again,
she returned. Again she placed her lips to
my ear, and whispered :
" I know you are brave. If you want to
recover your gold, I'll take you to the house
of the robbers in the swamp. We will risk
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 219
our lives, but I'll go with you if you wish
to try it."
" I do wish to try," said I, seizing her
hand.
" When you hear an owl hooting under
your window, come out to the barn and bring
your friend. Climb out through the window
and down the walnut tree."
Again she left the room, and I awakened
Balser. I briefly told him in a whisper what
had happened, and we at once rose and
dressed. We lifted the window, and after
waiting a long time for the signal, an owl
hooted; then we climbed to the ground by
way of the walnut tree. We found the girl
waiting for us, and we all went to the barn.
When she felt safe in speaking, she said in
low tones :
" I notified the robbers that you were here
and that you had gold. Old Polly made me
do it. They would have killed me if I had
refused, so I rode away at supper time, and
it was I who brought them upon you. But
I don't care what they do ; I would rather
die than have this on my soul. I will take
you to the house in the swamp and show you
where the gold is hidden. You can take it,
220 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
and I will lead you out from the swamp.
They will know I helped you, and I will tell
them that I did. Then they'll kill me, but I
want to die anyway."
She did not wait for an answer, but entered
the barn and presently came out leading a
horse.
" You, Tom Andy Bill, ride behind me,"
she said. " We will get the gold. Let your
friend wait with your two horses just inside
the woods a little way up the road. You
will need fresh horses when we return."
Balser objected to being left behind and
insisted on going with Mab and me.
" We have but three horses this one and
your two," said the girl. " If you ride one of
your horses, you will have but one fresh one
for a hard, long ride when we come back, and
I tell you, you will need two, and need them
badly. You don't know these men. They
are The Wolves. They're not men, they're .
devils." Then she grew angry and continued :
" You listen to me and do as I say. I'm giv-
ing my life to undo the wrong I did, and
and I tell you, you must do as I say, or I'll
throw my life away for nothing ! "
She lowered the bars, put one foot on a
"At timks she allowed the horse to rest"
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 221
rail of the fence, sprang to the horse's back,
leaned down toward me, and whispered :
" Get up behind me, Tom Andy Bill."
I obeyed, and the next instant we were
slowly passing the house, going eastward
toward the swamp. She guided the horse to
the sod by the roadside to avoid the noise of
his hoofs on the gravel roadway. When we
were a short distance from the house, she
struck the horse with her heels, and away we
went at full gallop.
Presently I said : " Let me ride in front
and you behind. I'm ashamed to ride this
way."
" You don't know the road," was her only
reply.
At times she allowed the horse to rest, but
she kept up a rapid gait for the greater part
of half an hour. Then she left the road and
turned into a black forest. After entering
the woods we were compelled to travel in a
walk, and the panting horse was not sorry.
How the girl kept the path I have never
known, for the night was so dark that I could
not see even the back of her head, though
her soft hair was constantly lashing me in
the face.
222 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Soon I heard the splashing of our horse's
hoofs in the water, and I knew we were enter-
ing the swamp. After a little while the girl
slid from the horse and led it. I was too
much of a man to ride while the girl was wad-
ing through the swamp, leading the horse, so
I slid off and came with a splash to the
ground.
" Do you want to ruin us ? " she whispered.
" These trees have ears. The path through
the swamp is narrow, and on each side there
is a bottomless quagmire."
She took my hand, and we proceeded on
our perilous journey. In ordinary circum-
stances I should have been frightened, for I
never was very brave ; but the girl was so
fearless that she gave me courage.
After we had been wading through the
swamp perhaps fifteen minutes, she said :
" We'll soon be on the island. Don't speak
above a whisper, and a low whisper at that.
Do exactly as I say and don't doubt me."
When we reached the dry land, she tied the
horse and took my hand. The forest was
very dense, and the darkness was like a patch
of black paint. When she had hitched the
horse she took my hand, and whispered :
\
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 223
" The house is close by. All the doors and
windows are of thick oak and are fastened by
bars inside. If the night was warm, a win-
dow might be open, and I might climb in and
get the gold ; but the storm has made it cool,
and I am afraid the house will be locked and
barred. If it is, I'll arouse them and take the
men away from the house on some excuse
while you are hiding.
" When I take the men to the barn," she
continued, "you go in the house by the front
door; keep straight ahead till you reach the
stairs; go up the steps and turn in at the
door to your right. In the opposite right-
hand corner of the room there is a large
iron-bound oak chest. Near it is Granny
Wolf's bed, and under her pillow is the key
to the chest. The gold is in the chest.
The powder, too, is kept there to protect it
from rats. You will awaken Granny, for she
sleeps like a weasel, but she is a little deaf
and can't distinguish voices well. So the
best thing you can do is to shake her, and
tell her that you are Con, and that you want
to get some powder. Tell her that Mab has
come back with news of another rich haul
down at Polly's.
224 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" You get the gold, lock the chest, and give
Granny the key. Then you go back to
where we left the horse, and I'll meet you
there soon as I can. Don't try to go through
the swamp without me, or you will surely fall
into the quagmire. I'll come if I live. If
The Wolves discover the trick I have played
them, we will both die; that is certain.
There are five men and two women. Now,
you understand. When the men leave the
house with me, you go in at the front door.
Go straight ahead to the stairs, and when
you get to the top, enter the door at the
right, and get the gold as I have told you.
Now let's go to the house and try to get in
without awakening them."
Two hundred steps brought us to the
house. While we were going there, Mab
called my attention to the path, so that I
should be able to find my way back to the
horse. When we reached the house, we
walked around it, trying each window shutter
in the hope of finding one unlocked. We
had made the entire circuit, and were at the
front door, when we heard a voice from an
upper window call out :
"Who's there? Answer quick, or I'll
shoot ! "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 225
" It's Mab ! " cried the girl. At the same
moment she pushed me back toward a bush
that grew by* the doorstep, and I, taking the
hint, crept under the branches. I confess
that I was terribly frightened. You must
remember I was only a boy of sixteen. The
girl was two or three years younger than I,
but, in a real emergency, a woman is usually
braver than a man. When the man called
from the window, the girl answered in a voice
without a tremor :
" It's Mab ! Are you all dead in there ?
I've been trying for ten minutes to wake you
up. You're a pretty lot of thieves to keep
watch. The lawyers " (meaning the officers
of the law) " might have burned the house
about your ears, and you wouldn't have known
the difference. I'm getting tired of this. I've
made two trips over here in the rain, and now
you keep me waiting out here all night,
soaking wet, while you snooze away like
'possums. It's the last time I'll ever come to
tell you about a haul."
" Don't grumble, Mab ; I'll let you in," an-
swered the voice from above.
She stepped to the front door and, as she
passed me, she touched me, saying, " Lie
Q
226 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
still." In a moment I heard the clanking o\
chains and the rumbling of bars within, and
immediately afterward the door opened.
" What is it, Mab ? " asked the man.
The girl stood at the door and I heard her
say:
" There's a load of groceries, and cloth, and
everything, Polly says, down at the house.
They came in soon after you left."
" How many men are there ? " asked one
of The Wolves.
" There are three men and a boy, and all
are asleep," answered Mab. " Polly drugged
them. They have two fine horses, and six
guns, and lots of ammunition, Polly says.
Besides, Polly says she thinks they have some
money."
" Is their stuff in the house ? " asked one of
the men.
" No," answered Mab ; " they left every-
thing in the wagon at the barn, so you
needn't go into the house to get the plunder.
Polly says for you just to hitch the horses to
the wagon and pull out with it. Polly talked
to the men while they were eating supper."
" What time did they come ? " asked a
woman who had joined the men at the door.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 227
" About twelve o'clock, I reckon," answered
Mab. " They got us up in the middle of the
night to feed them. Polly says she thinks
they're drugged all right, but she says for all
of you to come over. The three men and the
two boys that are already there might wake
up and give you an ugly fight if there are
only two or three of you, so Polly says for all
of you to come well armed, and to hurry. It
must be almost two o'clock now."
By the time the girl had finished telling
her story, the other men of the house had
joined her at the front door. Immediately I
heard a great bustle within the house, and
soon the girl came out, with five men follow-
ing her.
" Are you going to the stable to get the
horses ? " she asked.
" Yes. Where's yourn ? " answered one
of the men.
" Oh, I've got him right down here. I'll
go on ahead, and if anything's wrong when I
get to the house, I'll warn you," answered
the girl.
A woman went to the barn with the men,
and when they were out of sight, I knew that
Granny was alone upstairs ; so I, frightened
228 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
nearly to death, but acting on bravery bor-
rowed from the girl, boldly went in at the
front door, felt my way to the stairs, and
noiselessly went up. After groping about, I
found the door to the right and entered.
" What do you want ? " asked Granny
from her bed.
" It's Con," said I, hoarsely. " I want
some powder. There's a great haul down
at Polly's. Mab brought the word just
now."
" Yes, I heard all about it. Sally told me.
Here's the key," answered Granny Wolf.
I took the key from her hand after grop-
ing about in the dark for it, and then tried
to find the chest. Of course I got into the
wrong corner, and when I found that I had
lost my way in the room, my heart beat so
violently that I feared even the deaf old
Granny might hear it. After a little time
she asked :
" What on earth are you doing over in that
corner ? Lost in the dark ? "
" Yes," I answered. " Where's the light? "
" Light ? " screamed the old hag, angrily.
" It will be morning before you get the
powder if you wait to strike a light from
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 229
the tinder box this damp night! Give me
the key ! "
I heard her getting out of bed, and I
thought my day or my night had come.
" Where are ye ? " she asked.
" Here," I answered.
She found me and I gave her the key. I
heard her unlock the chest, and I heard the
lid fall back against the wall.
" How many horns do ye want ? " she
asked.
" I'll get them," I answered.
I collided with her as she was going back
to bed, but I immediately found the chest.
It was perhaps three and a half feet high. I
leaned over and felt among the contents for
our precious bag. My hand came in con-
tact with all manner of things. There were
boxes, bundles, bags, and powder-horns by
the score. Everything seemed to be in the
chest but our bag of gold. I was almost
ready to run away without it, when my hand
found a sack tied about the neck with a
string. It was much too small for our flour-
sack, but it seemed too large and heavy for
our gold bag. However, I grasped the
puckered end, lifted it out of the chest,
230 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
slammed the lid, turned the key, gave it to
Granny, and hurried away as fast as my legs
would carry me. My life, but I was glad to
get out of that front door !
How I found my way back to the horse,
I don't know. Fright must have sharpened
my instinct, and I found the horse, I suppose,
as a lost dog finds its way home without
knowing how it does it. When I got back
to where the horse was standing, my teeth
were chattering so that I thought surely
I should waken the entire swamp. My
knees smote together, and for a time I had
to cling to *the horse for support. I had
used up all the courage I had borrowed
from the girl, and she was not there to lend
me more.
I have always suffered more or less from
cowardice, but that, I believe, was the worst
attack I ever had. You see there was no one
to witness my weakness, and you have no
idea how much the desire to show off and
the fear of ridicule has to do with a man's
bravery when it comes to action. Many a
man who is a coward at heart will drive him-
self to do a brave deed in the presence of
others. That night I was brave only when
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 231
the girl was by my side. A touch from her
hand strengthened my nerves, and in the
light of her eyes I could have fought a
thousand dragons.
I had waited perhaps five minutes beside
the horse and they were long ones, you
may be sure when I heard the tramping
of horses' hoofs and the voices of men ap-
proaching from the direction of the house.
If my knees had shaken and my teeth chat-
tered before, imagine, if you can, the quak-
ing and the clatter that ensued when the
men passed on horseback within twenty feet
of me.
" Where's Mab ? " I heard one of them
ask.
" I reckon she's gone ahead," answered
another. A moment later I heard the
splashing of their horses' hoofs in the
swamp.
When I saw the men pass ahead of us, I
thought surely Mab and I were lost, and I
trembled for Balser's safety. He would be
waiting in the woods beyond the house, near
the road, and I feared he might return to
the barn when we failed to show up. The
men were now between Balser and me, and
232 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
how I was to pass them and reach him, I
did not know.
While I was wondering and trembling,
the girl came up to me.
" We'll wait here a few minutes and then
we'll follow them," she said, coming close
to me and whispering.
The first thing I did after she came to me
was to borrow some of her inexhaustible
fund of courage. I negotiated a big loan,
but she seemed to have all of hers left after
supplying me. Immediately I became as
brave as a lion. I feared nothing.
" Did you get the gold ? " she asked.
" Yes," I answered, holding the sack out
toward her.
" You're the bravest boy I ever knew," she
said, " and I hope you will forgive me for
setting The Wolves upon you. I've done
my best to right the wrong, and when they
learn of the trick I have played them, they
will kill me. They won't care so much
about the loss of the gold, but, you see, I
have betrayed the secret of their den. They
have killed three women and one man that
I know of, because they feared they might
betray the secret of the swamp to the
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 233
lawyers. They'll bury me alive in the quag-
mire, but I don't care if they do. I want to
die. I can't live here as the slave of these
murderous thieves a day longer."
" You shall not stay here. You shall go
with me," I answered, grasping her hand.
" You're crazy," she replied, snatching her
hand from mine and unhitching the horse.
She threw the rein over the horse's head
and came back to me.
" Here, take my foot and give me a lift,"
she said, holding up her foot. I lifted her
to the horse, and grasping her by the hand,
sprang up behind her ; then she turned the
horse's head and soon we entered the swamp.
The night was frightfully dark and rain
was falling in a heavy drizzle. Ten min-
utes after we entered the swamp, the girl
suddenly drew rein and cried, " Whoa ! "
The horse stopped and I at once realized
that it was sinking. For the last few steps
I had not heard the splash of the horse's
hoofs in the water, and the awful truth
flashed across my mind that the girl had
missed the path.
" Good Lord ! " she exclaimed, in a voice of
horror, " we're on the edge of the quagmire.
234 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Fall off the horse! Don't jump off! Fall
on your side or on your back, and don't try
to stand on your feet or you'll be lost!
You'll sink in the mud ! "
She fell off the horse and I followed her
lead.
" Do as I do," she said, and I watched her
very closely, you may be sure. She lay full
length in the mud, and began rolling toward
the path. Instinct prompted me to try to
get on my feet, but one effort satisfied me.
I thought I was gone. I immediately lay
down again on my back in the mud, and
with great difficulty extricated my feet.
When I had done so, I began to roll toward
the girl. Twice I thought I should have to
abandon my bag of gold or sink, but I clung
to it, and after rolling over three or four
times, I felt the strong grasp of this wonder-
ful girl's hand.
" Stand up ! " she said. " You are safe."
I arose and stood knee-deep in mud,
though my feet were on solid ground.
" Here is the path," she said, leading me
toward it.
" Let us try to save the horse," I suggested.
" No power on earth can save him," she
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 235
answered. " Poor fellow ! But lets not stay
to see his struggles. Come on ! "
She climbed to the path, and we con-
tinued our awful journey on foot. As we
walked along, she took my hand and said,
laughing softly:
" You clung to the gold. I believe you
would have gone down rather than lose it."
" No, I clung to it because I knew I
could save it," I answered.
" It's not worth a life," she returned,
" though some lives are not worth very
much. Mine isn't. I'll be with the horse
in the quagmire before sun-up. I'll save
The Wolves the trouble of throwing me
in. When I see that you're safe, I'll go
back and jump in."
"You will go with me," I answered.
" No, no ! " she replied. " You don't know
what you are saying. You don't know
the evil you would bring upon yourself
and your folks. Besides, I don't fear death.
I want to die. I once heard a man say
there was a place across the ocean where
people took mud baths for rheumatism.
Well, you see, I have the rheumatism, and
I want to cure it."
236 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
She laughed softly, dropped my hand,
and took my arm. Her laughter in the face
of death fascinated me, and I could hardly
speak. I had never before known a human
heart of that quality.
I was covered with mud, and she, too,
was plastered from head to heels.
" If any one were to see us now," she
said, again laughing softly, " they would
think that we were Adam and Eve, and
that the Lord hadn't finished us."
I was almost ready to weep, but she laughed
softly now and then, and ploughed along
through the mud and water as merrily as if
she were going to a frolic. Once she started
to sing, but checking herself, laughed and
placed her mud-covered hand over her mouth
to smother the song. Then she laughed
outright, for she had covered her mouth with
mud. I began to doubt my senses or hers.
Surely these desperate men would kill her
for betraying them, yet in the face of a
frightful death, she laughed and wanted to
sing.
God fills some hearts so full of joyous-
ness and courage that death has no terrors
for them. I walked beside this wonderful
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 237
girl, dumb with awe. If I had possessed a
thousandth part of her bravery, I would
have considered myself the most courageous
man on earth, but a long acquaintance with
mankind has taught me that bravery of that
sort is only to be found in the heart of a
woman.
After the girl smothered her song, we
walked for ten or fifteen minutes, and at
last came to the edge of the swamp. It
did seem good to find my feet once more
on solid earth. When we reached the Michi-
gan Road, we started west as fast as we
could go that is, as fast as I could go.
I almost ran to keep up with the rapid,
swinging gait of the girl. Of course, we
had lost a great deal of time in the quag-
mire, and I did not feel at all sure that
we would not meet the disappointed rob-
bers returning. When they learned of the
deception that had been put upon them by
Mab, they would at once start back in search
of her.
I suggested this danger to the girl, and
she answered:
"Yes, I'm afraid they'll learn of the trick.
I intended to follow close at their heels, and
238 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
just before we reached the house, I was
going to jump from the horse and let you
slip past and hurry on down to your friend,
who is waiting with the fresh horses. But
we have lost so much time that The Wolves
will go into the house, and then they will
come out and wait for us on the road. I'm
sorry the field in front of the house is cleared.
If it was woods, we could make a turn in
among the trees and you could crawl by in
the shadow."
" But you'll come, too," I said.
" No, no, I can't," she answered. " I'm
not fit to touch your hand, but all your life I
want you to remember the girl that gave
her life to save you and to undo the wrong
she had done."
" But you shall go with me. You shall
not stay here to be killed by these brutes,"
said I, grasping her hand.
" Oh, I'm not afraid of them," she an-
swered, with a low, soft laugh. "They can
only kill me, and they'll do that quickly
enough if I don't get back to the swamp
ahead of them and kill myself. At any rate,
I'll let them see that I do not fear them.
Just as soon as you are safe, I will go to
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 239
them. I'll defy them. I'll scorn them, and
I'll show them how to die laughing."
" I'll not leave this place without you," I
answered, and the ring of determination was
in my voice.
" Oh, yes, you will," she replied, coaxingly
clinging to my arm. " You must. But listen !
There they come on the gallop right down
the road ! They've learned the truth from
old Polly. Lord, but she must be mad !
Lie down in the ditch ! Quick ! Quick !
I'll stand here and laugh at them ! Good
Lord, hear them swearing and cursing ! Lie
down, I tell you! Quick! quick, or you're
lost ! Lie down in the ditch ! "
The Wolves were not a hundred yards
from us.
I'll stand till you lie down," I answered,
and she knew I meant what I said.
She fell in the ditch by the roadside so
suddenly that I thought she had been struck
down. The next second I was stretched in
the mud alongside of her, and ten seconds
later The Wolves had come up to us. We
were half covered with mud and water, and
when the robbers galloped furiously by, we
were as safe from detection as were the frogs
240 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
we had disturbed. My life, how The Wolves
did curse and blaspheme ! We heard them
swearing vengeance against Mab with every
wicked oath the evil mouth of man can
speak. One fellow said :
" We'll throw the little devil into the quag-
mire before morning."
Mab pinched me and laughed softly ; but
The Wolves had passed, and the girl's un-
timely merriment cost us nothing. Mab
lifted her head to reconnoitre, and when she
saw that the men had passed out of sight,
we rose from the ditch and started down
the road toward the house and Balser.
When we approached the house, we saw by a
dim light within that the front door was open.
" Some of The Wolves have stayed with
Polly," said the girl. " You lie down in the
gutter on the side of the road opposite the
house and crawl past. When you get be-
yond the barn, you will be safe. Then you
must run. When you get up out of the
ditch, you hoot like an owl. Then I will
know you are safe, and and that will be
our good-by. When you're gone, I'll go
into the house and wait for The Wolves to
come after me."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 241
" I'll go into the house with you," said I,
" and I'll not go another step without you."
She grasped me by the arms and her voice
trembled as she said, " Do you mean it, you
you fool ? "
" As true as there is a God, I mean it," I
answered. " If you have any doubt of the
truth of what I say, enter the house and your
doubts will soon vanish. If you're not going
with me, there's no need to stand here longer
in the rain. Let us go in and see Polly.
I'll follow you. Which shall it be ? Down
the road to Balser and home, or into the
house to Polly, The Wolves, and death?
Choose quickly. We have no time to
waste."
She was the braver, facing our danger in
the swamp ; but you see, after all, I was the
stronger, and I beat down her will as the
storm beats down the wheat. She paused
for a moment, and said, " I choose you," be-
traying the first trace of emotion I had seen
in her.
" Quick, quick ! " I said. " I follow you
in the ditch ! "
" No, I follow you from now on till you
tell me to stop," she answered.
242 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I believed her, so I fell on my face in the
ditch and began to crawl through the mud
and water past the house. Mab said that
we were having a baptism of mud. I would
rather walk a hundred miles than crawl that
hundred yards in the ditch. But all things
must end, and we at last rose up from the
mud and ran toward the woods where Balser
was hiding with the horses. During all this
time I had clung to the bag of gold.
We soon found Balser, and his first words
were, " Did you get it ? "
" Yes," said I, holding out the sack ;
" here it is."
The girl pointed her finger at the bag and
said with a laugh :
" If he hadn't got it, you would never have
seen him. That precious bag almost cost
him his life. But we had better be going or
The Wolves will be upon us."
" We ? " asked Balser in surprise. " Are
you going ? "
" She is," I answered, with emphasis.
Balser was inclined to remonstrate, and
said, " But we "
" There are no ' buts,' " I interrupted
sharply, " She has saved our lives and has
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 243
recovered our gold, and she goes with us or
I stay with her."
" There are but two horses," insisted
Balser, " and we can't all ride."
" There will be one for you," I retorted,
"and if that isn't enough, you may walk.
The girl will ride behind me."
" But," said Balser, " the robbers will pur-
sue us, and if you ride double, we can't
travel fast enough to escape."
" I'll not go with you," said the girl.
" Very well. Then we'll go back to the
house," said I. " If you'd only get it into
your head for once and all that Tom Andy
Bill Addison is not going home without
you, you would save us a great deal of
time."
The girl hesitated for a moment, and said
softly, " I'll do whatever you tell me to do."
She had hardly finished speaking when I
was on my horse's back, drawing her up be-
hind me. When she was firmly seated on
the horse, she cried out :
" Oh, you've forgotten the gold ! Where
is the precious bag? "
She was right ; I had forgotten the gold for
the sake of the girl.
244 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" It's on the ground there," I said to
Balser. " Hand it to me."
" I'll carry it," said the girl. Balser
handed her the bag, and I said to him :
" Now you go ahead as fast as you wish,
and we'll follow as fast as we can."
" No, I'll stay with you," he responded.
" But why you want to take the girl with us
is more than I can understand."
" You have no need to understand," I
answered hotly. " You mind your own busi-
ness and go your own way, and we'll take
care of ourselves."
" I wouldn't leave you, Tom Andy Bill,"
said Balser, " if I knew that I would be full
of bullets before sun-up." Then I was sorry
that I had spoken angrily.
Within a minute or two we were once
more on the Michigan Road, travelling
toward home at a fine pace. We left our
wagon and harness in exchange for the girl.
Balser thought we had made a poor trade,
but I was more than satisfied. Later on in
life I I but that's no part of this story.
Twelve hours afterward Balser and two
mud-covered, half-dead specimens of human-
ity alighted in front of my father's cabin on
" Wk i.kh oik WAGON ami HARNESS IN EXCHANGE KOR
THE GIKI. "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 245
Blue. Perhaps you think we were not glad
to get home ! Rapid explanations followed,
and I was not quite sure that father and
mother looked upon the girl and wagon trade
with all the favor that it had found in my
eyes; but after the mud had been washed
from Mab's face, and after she had put on
one of my sister's dresses, her beauty shone
with such lustre that mother kissed her and
gave her welcome.
When I told mother how Mab had saved
our lives and our gold, the dear old mother
kissed her again, and told Mab she should
be another daughter in the house. A great
deal of rapid talking followed, and our ad-
venture with the robbers was told with all
the exciting detail that I could furnish.
The gold, of course, was mentioned fre-
quently, and after a little time, father said:
"Where is the money, Tom Andy Bill?"
" There it is," said I, pointing to the sack
on the table.
Father lifted the sack and said : " It's
powerful heavy. Did you get it all for the
furs?"
"Yes," I answered.
Then he untied the mouth of the sack and
246 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
poured out upon the table a great pile of
beautiful bullets.
Mab looked at the bullets ; her big eyes
opened in momentary surprise, and then she
sent forth the merriest peal of laughter you
ever heard.
" That bag of bullets nearly cost him his
life," she said, and then she laughed again
as if she thought it was very funny.
Balser said : " After all that we have gone
through, this is awful ! Bullets ! "
" Don't say a word," said I, and to tell you
the truth, it was hard for me to keep from
laughing. You see, we had brought home
the girl, and I thought that any sort of an
exchange for her was a good trade.
Balser walked up and down the room for
a moment, and then said with determina-
tion :
"We'll go back to the swamp and get
that gold just as sure as I live, I'll do it.
We'll have it within a month ! "
" I hope you're right," said I.
We did go back with a posse of twenty-
five deputy United States marshals. The
government wanted The Wolves under an
indictment against them for having robbed
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 247
the mails. Balser and I got our gold, we
being able to identify it in the little sack in
which we had received it. The deputy mar-
shals captured a great deal of other gold
and plunder, all of which was confiscated
by the government.
Old Polly Wolf and the two women, cap-
tured in the swamp, were taken to Cincin-
nati, where Polly died in jail. Even though
she was in jail, more than a hundred miles
away from Blue River, she made trouble for
me trouble that resulted in the greatest
grief I've ever known. One of The Wolves
escaped, but the other four and old Daddy
Wolf were hanged.
" Now, Mab, what do you think of that
story?" asked Uncle Tom Andy Bill.
" I hope you'll not tell us any more like
it," the baby girl answered, with a sigh.
" I've almost shivered to death. Please take
me on your lap, Uncle Tom Andy Bill, and
warm me."
She climbed to his lap, and was soon
warmed to sleep in his arms. He watched
the child's face, and when the white, blue-
veined lids were closed hard and fast, he
248 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
whispered huskily, " The girl was Mab's
grandmother."
He bent his head, the waving silver locks
mingled for a moment with Mab's curls as
he kissed her baby lips, and then he drew
a great sigh and carried his love of loves to
bed.
CHAPTER X
A CHRISTMAS DINNER IN THE WOODS
The following summer I bought the forty-
acre tract of ground on which this house
stands with my half of the money recovered
from The Wolves. Father's farm was five
miles south of here on Blue River. Balser
bought the forty acres just north of this.
Our first task was to build a log cabin. We
built it on the little patch of raised ground
close to the river, just below the barn. You
have all played in it you, and two or three
other generations. It stands there yet, and
will stand there as long as I live if I have my
way concerning it.
After our cabin was built, Balser and I
moved in and began clearing the land. It
was a big undertaking for two boys seven-
teen years old, but we went at it with deter-
mination and made fair progress from the
start. You have no idea of the magnitude
of the task.
349
250 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
The ground was almost covered with
great trees, many of them four feet in di-
ameter, and between the trees flourished an
undergrowth that would make the hair on a
dog's back look thin by comparison. It was
hard, slow work, but Balser and I took our
time to it; and for the first three or four
years we were contented with a small clear-
ing.
The house nearest us down the river was
Raster's, three miles away. East of us,
three or four miles distant, lived a few
families ; but they did not belong to the Blue
River settlement and we did not know them.
In our cabin we had a floor made of logs
smoothed with an adze on three sides and fit-
ting snugly together. There was a ceiling
overhead, under the clapboard roof, and of
course we had a fine, large fireplace. Our
cabin on Brandywine had been too well
ventilated to protect us against a cold wind,
but our new cabin on Blue was a defence
against both the wind and the frost. We
also built a log stable for Solomon, and when
winter approached, we were prepared to live
sumptuously. Mother gave me a cow, and
late in the fall we brought up corn and oats
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 251
for feed. We had chickens also, and after
we were fairly installed for the winter, we
lived royally. We took school books and
histories with us, and during the long winter
evenings we acted as each other's teacher,
and learned as much as if we had been in
school.
When the cold weather set in, our principal
work, of course, was trapping, though we also
did a good bit of clearing. We didn't have
many adventures worth narrating, but we
spent a grand, happy, profitable winter. Oh,
how happy we were ! I see even the little
events of that winter more distinctly than
the great ones of recent years. We had
built a long oak table that we placed in front
of the fire, and the picture of two boys sitting
at the table, ciphering by the firelight, is to
me like a peep back into Paradise.
My, how cosey we were ! And what a
sweet zest life had for us ! We had a real
bed a feather bed over in the corner,
and the walls of the cabin were covered with
shelves, handy for storing our arms, ammu-
nition, tools, provisions, and utensils. We
had dishes, too, and pots and pans so numer-
ous that they were often in our way.
252 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Usually we went home every second
Sunday ; but as Christmas approached, we
skipped a Sunday, intending to be home to
meet Santa Claus.
A day or two before Christmas we killed
a fat wild turkey, meaning to take it home
for Christmas dinner. The weather at that
time, I well remember, was beautiful. A
heavy snow covered the ground, and it was
cold. The trees about our cabin were fes-
tooned with garlands of crystal and snow,
and the bright sun, loath to spoil the ex-
quisite picture, was gentle in the way of
heat, but mighty in brilliancy. We lived in
a fairyland.
Christmas morning Balser and I awoke
at the usual hour, but remembering the day,
we concluded to make ourselves a present of
a morning nap, so we rolled over and went
to sleep again. We did not sleep long, how-
ever, for we were awakened by peals of
laughter and cries of " Balser, Balser ! " and
" Tom Andy Bill ! " outside our door. One
voice I recognized instantly. It was Mab's,
and you may safely wager everything you
have that I got out of bed mighty quickly.
Our toilets were made while you could
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 253
count a hundred, and when I opened the
door, there were my three sisters and Mab
on two of my father's horses. Each girl car-
ried a basket, and they were all laughing and
screaming and calling for help. What a
sight it was ! Their cheeks were like June
roses, their eyes danced and glistened like
the happiest star in all the firmament, and the
laughter from their lips was like the ripple
of the merriest brook that ever sung a moun-
tain roundelay.
When we came out they could not speak
for laughing, and we were so glad to see them
that we, too, began to laugh, and away we
went, all together, with foolish persistency
that must have delighted the heart of good
old Santa Claus.
We stood there laughing until Mab said :
" Take this basket, Tom Andy Bill. It has
almost broken my arm."
I took the basket and turned to help her
from the horse, but I was too late. She had
jumped to the ground before I could turn
around.
" Too slow, Tom Andy Bill," she whis-
pered.
" Too quick, Mab," whispered I.
254 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
We took all the baskets from the girls,
and when they had dismounted Balser and I
led the horses to the stable. When we
returned to the cabin we found the girls
busily engaged getting breakfast. Of course
they were all laughing and talking at once.
When Balser and I joined them, we, too,
began to laugh about nothing, and talk about
less. We all talked at once, and although
none of us seemed to know what the others
were saying, we understood in a general way
that we were trying to tell each other how
glad we were that we were alive and all
together.
Balser and I, of course, wanted to peep into
the baskets, but a chorus of screams and pro-
tests checked our curiosity. The girls would
not let us eat much breakfast, saying that we
must save ourselves for dinner. We tried to
convince them that we didn't have to save
ourselves, that we had enough hunger for
both breakfast and dinner; but those tyranni-
cal girls served us only a small ration and said
we would have to be satisfied. After break-
fast they drove us out of the house and kept
us waiting in the cold until Mab came to the
door and said, " Now you may come in."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 255
On the table were presents that had been
sent up to us by our folks. Among my pres-
ents, I well remember, was a great woollen
neck comforter, long enough to wind about
my throat a dozen times. The colors were
patriotic red, white, and blue and I
thought and still think it the most beautiful
comforter in the world, for Mab had knitted
it. She threw it about my neck and pulled
both ends to choke me. Of course, that
seemed very funny to everybody, and we all
laughed till the tears came to our eyes. Mitts,
and socks, and ear-warmers, and comforters,
and chest protectors all the work of loving
hands covered the table, and and bless
my life ! it almost makes me cry to remem-
ber how happy we were. It's too bad that
there's always a tinge of sadness in the mem-
ory of great joy.
The girls went with us that morning to
visit the traps. I wore my great comforter
and almost smothered because it was so
warm. I would have worn it even had I
known that it would kill me. I walked with
Mab, and, I tell you, I was happy. I hoped we
would find no game in the traps, for I could
not bear to think of causing suffering even to
256 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
a wolf at that time. Mab, too, was happy ; and
when we found a fox in a trap, we would have
liberated it had it not fought so viciously
when we tried to unspring the trap that we
had to kill it. We freed a score of coons and
muskrats, giving them their lives as a Christ-
mas present from the girls.
When we had visited the traps, we went
back to the cabin, and Balser climbed the tree
on which our wild turkey was hanging and
brought down the bird. We dipped the
turkey in a great kettle of hot water to
loosen the feathers, and soon it was bare.
When the turkey was ready for the fire, we
improvised a spit, using a steel ramrod for
the purpose, and hung it over a great bed of
hickory coals to roast. If you have never
tasted a turkey roasted over the coals on a
spit, you don't know how agreeable that noble
bird can make itself to a man's palate.
We had only two chairs and two boxes, so,
when dinner was served, the girls sat on the
chairs and boxes, and Balser and I knelt at
the table. I was so hungry I didn't know
where to begin. The mince pie looked so
good I wanted to start on that, but sister
Nan said I didn't know how to eat.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 257
" You just give me a piece of that pie, and
I'll show you if I don't know how to eat,"
said I. " Eat ? I could give a yearling
shoat odds and make him blush for his
appetite."
The remark was not very funny, but every
one thought it was, and the matter of eating,
urgent as it was, had to be postponed until
we were through laughing. My joke went
so well that I tried to think of another, but
failed. Balser said something about his
knees hurting the floor, and again the attack
on the dinner was postponed. After we had
laughed at Balser's joke, I said:
" Now, every one keep still. I want to eat.
I've laughed till I'm sore all over ; " but Mab
only laughed the more and said :
" What's the use of eating so long as you
can laugh ? " so off we went again, and I
thought we would never stop.
I again insisted that I wanted a piece of
pie first.
My sisters all protested, but while Nan,
the eldest, was carving the turkey, Mab, who
sat next to where I was kneeling, cut the
mince pie, and handed a piece to me under
the table. When the others saw me eating
258 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
the pie, there was a great storm of protests,
and everybody had to laugh again.
"Now, Mr. Shoat," said Nan, "pie is
always eaten last, and as you are eating your
pie, of course you have finished your dinner,
and you don't get another mouthful."
But Mab said: "Don't cry, Tom Andy
Bill. You shall have half of my dinner. I'll
take enough for both."
In all the world there was not a gentler,
tenderer heart than Mab's, and Tom Andy
Bill was always first in it.
We were slow getting started because we
were laughing and talking so much; but
once we got under way, you should have
seen that dinner disappear.
Turkey and " stuffing," mashed potatoes,
delicious fresh bread, yellow butter, milk that
was nearly all cream, jelly, a half-dozen kinds
of preserved fruits, as many kinds of cake,
mince pies, apple pies, sugar pies all fell
before our wrath, and soon I was so full that
I thought one more mouthful would surely
make me helpless. I would gladly give all
I possess to eat just one more dinner like
that before I die, but if I were worth millions
I couldn't buy it.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 259
After dinner we swept the snow from a
long, narrow stretch of ice on the river and
" skeeted." We had no skates ; we simply ran
and slid on the ice. Some one suggested that
we slide for a prize, and the person making
the longest " skeet " should win the trophy.
There was one difficulty in the way of carry-
ing out this plan. We had no prize.
I suggested, " Let's take a lock of Mab's
hair for a prize."
Every one but Mab eagerly assented. She
put her hands to her hair protectingly, and
said, " No, sir! " But when we all insisted,
she gave in, and I cut a lock of black,
silky hair from her head with my penknife.
I made up my mind to win that prize or die
in the attempt.
When the ice path was cleared, we started
in on our contest. The girls went first,
then Balser "skeeted," and then I came to
the scratch. I looked under my hand down
the ice path, as if I were trying to see some-
thing very far off, and said :
" The river isn't long enough for me. I'm
afraid if I start too hard, I'll slide out through
the mouth and land in the Ohio."
Every one laughed as usual, and I thought
2 6o UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I was a great wag. We were each to have
ten trials, and the afternoon was pretty well
advanced before we had finished the contest.
I got the prize, and I got a smile along with
it when Mab made the award that I valued
even more highly than the trophy itself.
After "skeeting," we all flocked to the
stable to milk and feed the cow, and to give
Solomon his corn and hay. Everybody
helped at the chores, and of course every-
body laughed all the time. Solomon said
very plainly that it had never before been
his misfortune to meet such a lot of laughing
fools; but though Solomon was wise, he didn't
know everything. You see, he didn't under-
stand our sort of wisdom. There's more
wisdom in a laugh, Solomon, than is dreamt
of in your philosophy.
The remains of dinner served us for sup-
per, and after we had finished we moved the
table back in the room. Nan brought out a
great jug of hard cider, hard, mind you,
and we all sat down on the floor in a half
moon before the roaring fire, where we ate
nuts, drank cider, popped corn, told stories,
asked riddles, and played childish games till
bedtime. Sister Nan allowed us just enough
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 261
to drink and no more, for hard cider will
make you drunk if you take too much.
" Nan keeps the cider jug beside her,"
said Balser, playing on the word; and I went
him one better and said:
" I'm afraid she'll soon have it all inside
her if we don't assert our rights."
We had laughed so much all day that we
could not laugh any more, and our awful
puns fell flat, as was perfectly right and
just.
The girls remained all night and slept in
our bed. Fortunately it was very broad, and
fortunately, too, they could have slept any-
where. Balser and I took our bearskin
sleeping-bags and went to the stable loft,
where we were snug and warm in the hay.
Grumbling Solomon tried to explain to us
next morning that we had kept him awake,
snoring; but we wouldn't understand his bad
English, and, in fact, we didn't believe him
anyway.
The day after Christmas the girls left us,
and our cabin seemed to me like an Eveless
Eden, a deserted, lonely Paradise.
Half an hour after my sisters and Mab had
left the cabin, while Balser and I were sit-
262 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
ting before the fire, feeling very lonesome,
and trying to make up our minds to visit the
traps, we heard a great screaming outside,
and we knew that the girls had come back
to us in trouble. We hurried out to learn
the cause of the screaming, and met the four
girls a short distance below Solomon's barn,
running for the cabin as fast as they could
run, and screaming at the top of their voices.
" What on earth is the trouble now ? " I
asked.
Sister Nan gasped out the word " Bear ! "
" Where are the horses ? " I asked.
" They got frightened at the bear and
reared up, and we slid off behind," said Nan.
" And then we were at the mercy of the
bear," interrupted sister Betty.
"It seems to have been a merciful bear,"
I suggested. " You are all here, alive and
whole of skin."
"Don't joke about it, Tom Andy Bill,"
said Mab, who was almost out of breath.
" Our skins may be whole, but, I tell you, we
are almost frightened out of them. Oh, it
was awful! We came upon the bear right in
front of us as we turned a bend in the path.
The horses reared up, and of course we slid
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 263
off. Then the horses ran, and that awful
bear arose on its hind feet, opened its fright-
ful red mouth, and came right toward us
with the most horrid growls you ever heard."
" What did you do ? " I asked.
" Why, we screamed, of course, and ran,
and kept on running and screaming till we
got here."
" Where did you see the bear ? " asked
Balser.
" Just beyond the big hollow sycamore,"
answered my youngest sister.
The hollow sycamore stood by the side of
the horse path, half a mile down-stream.
While we were talking, Balser ran to the
house, and within two minutes he returned,
bringing with him the dogs, guns, and ammu-
nition. I took my gun, powder-horn, and
bullets from him, and said :
" Now, come with us, girls. Show us the
bear, and we will avenge your wrong."
The girls very willingly went with us,
feeling brave under the protection of two such
mighty bear hunters, and before we had taken
twenty steps on the war-path, they were
laughing and talking as merrily as if nothing
had happened to ruffle them.
264 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I quieted them, saying: " If you want to
catch the bear, you must keep still. The
clatter you girls are making would frighten
off a troupe of deaf and dumb lions."
Quiet reigned for a moment, but those
girls were so happy they could no more
keep from laughing than a mountain brook
in springtime can keep from babbling.
When we approached the spot where the
bear had been seen, the girls confined them-
selves to whispers, and, as father would have
said, " giggling." They might as well have
shouted. Balser and I, of course, were march-
ing in the van of the laughing army, and the
girls were following close at our heels. The
first shot would certainly frighten them out
of their wits and send them flying on the
backward path. In fact, I had no hope at
all of finding the bear. One might as well
go to sea in a lead ship as hunt bears with
a covey of girls. Balser, too, felt that our
search was in vain. In truth, our real pur-
pose in going with the girls was more to allay
their fears and to find the horses than to kill
a bear. We had no hope of the latter. We
knew the bear would take itself off to safety
when it heard us approaching, and I knew
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 265
that our only chance of killing " His Bear-
ship " was to take up its spoor and follow
it. That probably would mean an all day's
journey, and we, of course, had no idea of
taking the girls on such a tramp.
Balser and I had suggested to the girls the
possibility that they might be frightened when
the fight took place, but they, with more noise
than sincerity, spurned the thought. " No,
indeed, they would not be frightened ! Just
wait and see ! "
When we were passing the hollow syca-
more, I turned toward the girls and whis-
pered :
" I think the bear is right ahead of us."
Of course, it was said to frighten them. I
did not see Mab with the girls, so I asked,
" Where's Mab ? "
" She dropped her muff and has gone back
to find it," answered Betty.
Balser and I were perhaps ten yards ahead
of the girls, when he called back in a hoarse
whisper :
" Here's the bear! Here's the bear! " Then
he whispered to me : " Let's fire and scare
them. There's no bear within a mile of us,
and we'll not see one."
266 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Wanting to show off, he fired his gun, and
I, too, blazed away at nothing. The result
was most satisfactory, for the girls ran back
on the path screaming like mad. They were
not going to be frightened, no, not they !
Balser and I stood laughing, but soon our
tune changed, for in less than a minute the
girls, that is, three of them, came running
back to us, screaming and frightened in real
earnest.
" There's another bear right back of us,"
cried Betty. Balser and I again laughed, but
we were soon convinced that they had really
seen a bear.
" Where was it ? " I asked anxiously.
" It came out of. the hollow sycamore just
as we got there," answered Nan.
" Where is Mab ? Where is Mab ? " I
asked. At last I was aroused.
"She is down the path, hunting her muff,"
answered Nan ; " and the bear started right
down in her direction."
So did I start in her direction as fast as
I could run, and Balser after me.
"Load your gun!" I cried, "and come on
quick."
I tried to load my gun as I ran, but I
' >M. HUNDRED YARDS AHEAD OK Ml WAS THE BEAR "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 267
spilled the powder and could not get a bul-
let in the muzzle. Balser stopped to load
his gun, and soon overtook me. Then I
stopped, and never in all my life did I load
a gun so quickly.
I threw my coat to the ground and started
after Balser. After I had passed him, I heard
a piercing scream just ahead of me. I knew
the scream was from Mab, though I could
not see her, for the path made a sharp turn
at that point, and the underbrush, though
leafless, was so thick that I could not see
through it.
When I rounded the bend in the path,
my blood almost froze. One hundred yards
ahead of me was the bear, and a few short
yards ahead of it was Mab, running and
screaming for dear life. The race between
Mab and the bear would not last long. The
girl, though braver than I when facing death
at the hands of The Wolves, would soon
fall from exhaustion and fright, and the in-
furiated bear would tear her to pieces.
There were two reasons why I dared not
shoot. First, Mab was in line with the bear
and me, and if my bullet should miss the
black brute, it would surely find her. Sec-
268 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
ond, the bear's tail was toward me. I could
get neither a broadside nor a head shot, and
if I should hit the bear, my bullet would
wound but would not kill, and a wounded
bear is the incarnation of fury.
While these thoughts were flashing through
my mind, the bear overtook Mab. I saw it
stop and rise to its feet to strike the girl
with its fearful paws. One blow would have
killed her, for the bear was a monster.
The brute's momentary pause allowed Mab
to gain a few feet in the race, and while the
bear was upright, Balser fired, and I heard
the bullet strike. Instantly Mab fell to the
ground. I shouted, and the bear turned
toward me. I hoped I had drawn the at-
tack upon myself, and had my gun almost
to my shoulder to fire at the bear's head,
when it turned quickly and again presented
its rump for my aim. By this time I had
reduced the distance between the bear and
me to twenty yards, and Mab was lying in
the path a few yards ahead of the bear.
Of course, all that I am telling you oc-
curred very rapidly within a few seconds.
In less than one second, it seemed to me,
after the bear turned, it was standing over
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 269
Mab, who was lying on the ground. I saw
its teeth glisten as it opened its great red
mouth just over her white throat, and I
thought that Mab had not another moment
to live. If she were not already dead from
Balser's bullet, the bear would soon kill her.
A thousand thoughts flashed through my
mind in the hundredth part of a second, as
a man may dream of the events of a lifetime
during one beat of his pulse. I thought of
my first meeting with Mab, of the swamp, of
her flight, of her bravery, her beauty, her
tenderness, and though I was but a boy of
seventeen and she a girl of fifteen, I then
knew that in all my life I should never find
another girl to take her place in my heart ;
and and I never have found one.
Well, as I have said, all these things flashed
through my mind while the bear's terrible
jaws were about to clutch Mab's throat. I
acted entirely without thought and upon
impulse. I was not conscious of lifting my
gun to my shoulder. I do not remember
firing, but I did fire, and I do remember see-
ing the bear spring into the air and fall back
on Mab. My bullet had penetrated its
brain. I also remember tossing the great
270 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
five-hundred-pound brute to one side as ft
it had been a fox, and I remember snatching
Mab from the ground and running back
down the path with my unconscious burden
in my arms to where the girls were standing.
I was as strong as an ox.
" See if she lives," I cried, laying Mab
gently on the ground.
Nan felt her hands and said : " I don't
know. I can't tell."
Then I fell on my knees and placed my
ear over her heart. I distinctly heard its
beating, and I sprang to my feet, crying
excitedly :
"She lives! She lives! See if she is
shot, Nan!"
" Shot ? " asked Nan in surprise.
" Yes," I answered. "Shot! Shot! Don't
you understand ? Remove her clothing and
see if she is shot ! "
I walked away and met Balser coming
down the path. I stopped him and said :
" Nan is trying to see if she is shot."
" Shot ? " asked Balser. " Who shot her ? "
* You, if any one," I answered. " She fell
when you fired."
"Merciful God!" cried Balser, "did I
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 271
miss the bear and hit her ? Let us examine
the bear."
We ran to the dead bear and began a
hurried examination. I found the wound
of Balser's bullet in its neck, and I soon dis-
covered my shot in its head. I then hastened
back to the girls, shouting :
" She is not shot ! She is not shot !
We've found both bullets in the bear."
" No, she is not shot," answered Nan,
calmly, " but I fear she is dying."
Without another word, I took Mab in my
arms and started home, wild with grief and
strong with despair. Balser went back to
fetch Solomon and the sleigh, but I went on
toward home, carrying Mab in my arms. I
had been walking perhaps ten minutes when
a sigh came from her lips. She lifted her
arm, twined it about my neck, and whispered
my name, " Tom Andy Bill." I was wild
with joy, but I did not speak. In a moment
she said :
" You saved my life. I saw you lift your
gun ; then I heard the bullet strike the bear's
head within six inches of my face, and I
knew your aim had been true."
She said she was not hurt, and she wanted
272 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
me to put her down ; but I begged her to
remain where she was, and she whispered :
"We'll let the others think I haven't
waked up yet."
Then she closed her eyes again, and
I marched proudly through the snow, as
strong as Samson, the happiest boy in all the
world.
The road over which the sled could be
drawn made a circuit east of the river, while
the horse path over which we were travelling
hugged the banks for quite a distance down-
stream and joined the wagon road four miles
above father's house. When we reached the
wagon road we halted to wait for Balser, and
soon we saw Solomon's ears coming ma-
jestically down the track, as one sees first
the topmasts of an approaching ship at sea.
Presently Solomon greeted us with a song of
welcome, and when he came up to us, he
was puffing and blowing like a racehorse
just off the course.
" I came just as quickly as I could, and I
do believe I made a mile a minute," said the
wise one. At least, that is what Mab said
he said, but Balser said that the donkey
travelled so slowly that part of the time it
"Wild WITH <;kiki I TOOK Maii in my arms and started
home"
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 273
seemed as if they were going backward.
We didn't know which to believe.
We put Mab in the sleigh, much against
her will, and I insulted Solomon so grievously
by attempting to lead him by the bridle that
he would not budge. When I left his head,
he stepped forward with ears apeak, proud
as any peacock. Mab laughed, and when no
one would get into the sleigh to ride with
her, she said she wouldn't ride alone, so she
jumped out. Despite the girls' entreaties
and my commands, she walked home with us
and was none the worse for her terrible
adventure.
The two horses had run home after dump-
ing the girls in the snow, and our folks were
greatly alarmed.
We found awaiting us, besides father and
mother, two strange gentlemen and a lady.
They were elegantly dressed city folks, and
when we entered the room where they were
sitting, the lady ran at once to Mab, saying :
" It is she ! It is she ! She is the very
image of my sister ! "
Mab stepped back from the lady in sur-
prise and asked:
u What is the matter ? What do you want ?"
274 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
I knew instinctively that they wanted
Mab, and I was not surprised when the lady
said :
" We want you, my dear. We want to
take you with us. I am your mother's sis-
ter; this gentleman is your uncle, and the
other gentleman is my husband. We learned
from an old woman named Polly Wolf, who
died in the Cincinnati jail, that you had been
stolen by a band of robbers who plundered
a stage-coach a few years ago, and killed your
father and mother. The old woman said
you had run away from her house with two
boys who lived farther west near the Michi-
gan Road. We commenced our search for
you at once, and at last have found you. We
will give you a home and will care for you
as if you were our daughter."
" But I have a good home," said Mab.
"Yes, yes, we know," interrupted one of
the gentlemen. Turning to the lady, he said,
" Sit down, Eliza, and let me question the
girl."
The lady sat down, and the gentleman
asked :
" Your name is Mab, is it not ? "
Mab answered, " It is."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 275
" Do you know your father's name ? " asked
the gentleman.
" No," responded Mab. " At Polly's I went
by the name of Mab Wolf. But I knew that
Granny and Grandpap Wolf were no kin to
me."
" It is as I expected," said the gentleman.
" Do you remember when you first came to
Granny Wolf's ? " he asked.
" Yes. I was taken from a stage-coach.
I was perhaps five years old."
" There is no further doubt," said the gen-
tleman, turning to my father. " We thank
you for your kindness to the girl. We will
pay you for your trouble and will relieve you
of her care."
" You owe me nothing," said father. " Mab
has been no trouble to us. She has been a
delight and a comfort ; hasn't she, wife ? "
" Indeed she has," answered mother.
" We can at least give you our gratitude,"
said the gentleman, " and I am sure you will
be glad that the girl has found her people,
and that they have found her."
" I'm not so sure that I am glad," answered
father. " Do you want to leave us, Mab ? "
" No, no, daddy," cried Mab, running to
276 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
father's side and grasping his arm. " I don't
want to go; I want to stay with you."
" But this is not your home," interrupted
the gentleman. " Your aunt and I are your
natural guardians, and our home is the proper
place for you."
"What you say may all be true," said father,
" but how am I to know it ? "
" Haven't I just told you all the circum-
stances of the case ? " answered the gentle-
man. " The girl is the image of her mother.
Any one who knew my sister would know
that this girl is her child."
" Yes, but you see I didn't know your sis-
ter," answered father.
Then the gentleman grew angry and said,
" My good man, your intentions are all
right, but you are much too officious in this
matter, and we shall have to insist upon the
girl coming with us at once."
" Again I ask you, do you want to go with
these folks, Mab ? " asked father.
" No, no ! A thousand times no ! " cried
the girl, clinging to father and beginning to
weep.
" Then," said father, addressing the gentle-
men and the lady, " I shall have to ask you
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 277
to go outside the house and do your insisting,
for the girl shall not go with you against her
will."
" I'll bring the sheriff and take her," an-
swered the gentleman, angrily ; " I won't be
bullied by an old fool like you."
" Go and get the sheriff if you wish," said
father, " but go quickly, or I'll start you on
your way with my boot. I reckon you'll have
to get a writ from the court a writ of habeas
corpus before the sheriff will interfere. The
sheriff happens to be my brother. I would
like to call your attention to the door. You
can get out one at a time, I reckon, and that'll
be fast enough for me, if you hurry."
The strangers left the house, declaring that
they would soon return, armed by the law,
and would "show us."
What they intended to show us, we did not
know, but in a general way we supposed that
they meant they would take Mab away from
us.
That was a sad day at our house. Mab
wept nearly all afternoon, and clung to mother
and father, and to my sisters, with a piteous
appeal for protection.
Balser went home for the night; and next
278 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
day we went back to the cabin, loaded our furs
on the sleigh, and abandoned our quarters for
the winter. If the strangers came again to
take Mab away, I wanted to be at home when
they arrived.
We lived that winter in constant dread of
losing Mab, but when winter turned to spring,
and spring to summer, we began to forget
our fear ; and by fall we had settled down to
the glad belief that she would not be taken
from us.
" Did you go back to get the bear ? " asked
a small boy.
" Indeed we did," answered Uncle Tom
Andy Bill. " It weighed nearly five hundred
pounds and was as fat as butter."
" Did you get his hide ? " asked the same
boy.
"Yes," answered Uncle Tom Andy Bill,
" and we gave it to Mab."
All the older members of Tom Andy Bill's
audience knew that Mab had been his one
and only sweetheart ; and there was not one
among us whose heart did not beat in sorrow
and throb with love for grand old Tom Andy
Bill, who had lived his long life true to his
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 279
one love, and would die with her image and
hers alone nestling in his heart of hearts.
Amidst the pictures of bears, robbers,
swamps, and caves that he had drawn for
our entertainment, I could see, towering
above all, the tall, strong figure, the black,
waving hair, the dark, grave eyes, glowing
with the light of a great soul, of our friend
and protector, Tom Andy Bill. He had
missed the best thing in life, the love
of the woman he loved, but he had known
plentifully the next best thing the world has
to offer* that is, the happiness one gives to
others.
" Wasn't it funny, Uncle Tom Andy Bill,"
said Mab, " that her name was the same as
mine ? "
" No, it wasn't funny, sweetheart. It was
just sad." Tears sprang to the old man's
eyes, and they came to other eyes, too, as he
walked off to bed with Baby Mab clinging to
his finger.
CHAPTER XI
WYANDOTTE ONCE MORE
Balser and I spent the following winter
also in our cabin, and we had another fine lot
of furs, which wetookto Cincinnati just as soon
as the road was good. We received only one
hundred and twenty dollars for them, but
that was a great sum in those days. It looked
small to us, however, because we had always
in mind the dream of Wyandotte's treasure.
We had settled on one fact. The five chests
could not possibly contain less than five thou-
sand dollars, and that sum would make us
rich.
We had discussed the treasure so often,
and had talked about it so much between our-
selves, that we felt as if it were already ours,
and that, with a little patience, we would pos-
sess it. We had never mentioned the treasure
even to the folks at home. I confess that I
did tell Mab about it ; but the secret was as
safe with her as it was with me, and she was
280
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 281
very proud to feel that she was the only one
besides Balser and me who knew about it.
Of course, Balser didn't know that I had
told Mab.
I can't explain why we felt so sure of get-
ting the treasure, but this I know, that we
never doubted, even for one moment, that the
gold would one day be ours.
On the road to Cincinnati we were re-
ceived as heroes at the inns and taverns, and
were pointed out to strangers as the boys
who had broken up the Wolf gang two years
before. We could have stopped at any tavern
along the road without paying a cent for our
meals and lodging, but we loved to camp out.
We took our time going and returning, and
slept under the wagon every pleasant night.
The first evening out of Cincinnati, on our
way home, we camped on the banks of a
small river I think it was Whitewater.
Camping near us was an old man with a six-
ox team and an enormous schooner wagon.
A schooner wagon-bed was built high at
each end like the old-fashioned ships in
which Columbus crossed the sea, and would
hold nearly as much as one could store in a
small ship.
282 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
When we reached Whitewater, we found
the old man trying to corral his oxen. An
ox is a very stupid brute, but when a fact
once penetrates his brain, it takes complete
possession of him. If he realizes that his
master has lost control of him, he is the most
stubborn, aggravating four-footed creature
that breathes. The old man's oxen had
broken loose, and he was in trouble. After
we had unhitched and fed our horses, we
hastened to our neighbor's assistance and
soon every ox was knee-haltered and reduced
to submission.
" Much obleeged," said the old man. " My
Indian ran away this noon, and I'm lame, as
you see. These fool oxen seem to know that
I can't manage them alone. I'd 'a' had a
powerful hard time if you boys hadn't come
to my help. Thank ye a heap. Like as not
ye'll be here in the morning, and mebbe I kin
git ye to help me yoke up. The oxen are
powerful fine critters, but they haven't been
worked for two months, and they're feelin'
their oats. Besides, as I said, they know I'm
alone. Reckon they won't be so frisky by
the time they git to Fort Chicago."
" Where is Fort Chicago ? " asked Balser.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 283
" It's 'way up on the lakes," answered the
old man. " I can't tell ye where it is 'zactly,
except that it's in Illinois and on the lake. I
'low it'll take me two months to git thar with
this load even if the roads keep good. If the
roads git bad, Lord only knows when I'll git
thar. I'm haulin' this load o' goods fer the
Astor Fur Company, so it's all right if I git
thar by winter, to have the goods thar in
time fer the trappers."
We invited the old man to eat supper with
us, and he was delighted with our fare. He
had nothing to eat but boiled beans and salt
pork, and he said he was so tired of it that
he dreaded the approach of meal-time. His
appetite was nothing like mine, or he would
have welcomed meal-time though he had
nothing but beans.
Next morning we helped our neighbor to
yoke up, and when we were about to leave
him, he said :
" I thank ye, boys, fer helpin' me. I hain't
got a piece o' money to my name or I'd pay
ye."
" We wouldn't think of taking a cent," said
Balser ; " but if you have no money, how will
you manage to travel so far ? "
284 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" I carry my grub in the wagon," said he,
" and camp out, rain er shine. If I have to
buy anything, I trade goods fer it if I kin.
If I can't trade, I go without. If there's any-
thing I've got in the wagon that ye want, I'll
give it to ye, and welcome. Like as not, now,
ye'd like to have a little powder ? "
" We want nothing," I answered.
" How are you going to get along by your-
self with the oxen ? " asked Balser.
" Lord only knows. I don't," the old man
replied. " Mebbe I'll be able to find a man
along the road to go with me in place of the
one that run away, but it ain't likely. Fort
Chicago is so far, and men don't know nothin'
'bout the Fur Company, so they don't want
to risk workin' fer nothin', and findin' them-
selves broke so far away from home at the
end o' their job."
Balser and I loved the gypsy life along the
road, and after consulting together, we agreed
to offer the old fellow our help. Balser told
me to speak to him, so before we started, I
said:
" We'll stay with you till you reach Blue
River, and maybe you can find a man there
that will go the rest of the way."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 285
" I can't pay ye, boys, 'cept in goods," said
the old man, "and it would be mighty poor
pay, for the company only 'lows three bits a
day fer help fer this wagon, and that'll be
mighty little fer sech fine boys as ye be."
" I tell you, we don't want pay," said I.
" Well, then, I'll thank ye a heap more than
three bits a day," said our new friend.
We undertook a bigger job than we had
counted on, for the oxen moved like snails
compared with our horses, and we frequently
had to wait half a day for the old man to over-
take us; but we were in no hurry and enjoyed
loitering along the road, talking about the
treasure and camping out. The weather was
beautiful and the road was fine, but it took us
nearly a week to get to Blue River.
Before we reached home we had learned to
like the old man, and when one evening he
unyoked on the banks of Blue, we were
sorry to part from him.
We came down from home early next
morning and tried to find a man to go with
him, but after asking every idle fellow in the
village of Blue River, we returned to our
friend and told him that we had failed.
" I didn't 'low ye could find one," said
286 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
the old man. " It's hard to git any one to
work fer the Fur Company 'cept Indians
and half breeds. The fellow that run away
from me was a half breed. His father was
a Frenchman and his mother was a Wyan-
dotte."
Balser and I sprang to our feet at the
word "Wyandotte" and asked in chorus :
" Where did you find him ? "
" I think he come from a tribe of Indians
that spent the winter out west o' Fort Chi-
cago somewhere. They say there's a bunch
o' Wyandottes among them the last o' the
tribe and I'm told that the old Wyandotte
chief is their chief."
Perhaps you think that Balser and I were
not excited.
" Tom Andy Bill, I want to speak to you ! "
Balser said. We went off to a little distance,
and he continued : " Here's our chance. Let's
go with the old man."
" Don't say a word," said I, which meant,
" I'm with you."
Then we went back to the old man, and I
acted as spokesman :
" You stay here till to-morrow and maybe
we'll go with you ! "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 287
" If ye will, I'll try to get the company to
double the wages," he answered, " and they
will pay you in cash when you git to Fort
Chicago."
Balser and I hurried home and told our
folks that we had an opportunity to go to
Fort Chicago with the old man at good
wages, and after considerable discussion dur-
ing the evening, they partially consented,
though our mothers did so very reluctantly.
Next morning Balser came down, and while
we were talking over the proposition with
father and mother, Mab didn't once take her
eyes off me. When it was settled that we
were to go, she left the room and went out
to the back porch. In a moment "or two I
followed, and found her crying.
" Are you crying, Mab ? " I asked.
" No-0-0," she answered, turning her face
from me.
" I'll not go if you want me to stay," I
said, hoping in my heart she would ask me
not to go.
" No, no, Tom Andy Bill," she replied,
turning toward me, careless of her tears.
" You must go. You must not think of
me. I would not stand in your way for a
288 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
moment, and I know I am very foolish to
cry. But Nan and Betty and Sue are cry-
ing, and I don't see why I, too, can't cry."
" There is this difference, Mab," I an-
swered. " Your tears hurt me, burn me, and
I would not cause you one moment's grief
for anything in the world."
"Yes, I know, Tom Andy Bill. You are
always thinking of my happiness, and I'll
not cry any more. I'll I'll I'll be glad
that so good a chance has come to you.
I'm not crying now." But she was crying,
though she tried to laugh.
Soon my sisters came out to the porch,
and and well, the widespread misery I
was creating might have been considered a
luxury by some boys, for all my sisters were
sweet, beautiful girls, and Mab was without
a peer ; but their tears made me suffer.
" It's all off, girls, it's all off. I'll not go a
step ! " said I, tossing my hands in the air.
But then came a chorus of protests and tears
and a shower of kisses, kisses from all save
Mab, and I said I would go if they insisted
upon it. My sisters soon stopped crying, but
Mab could not stop, and Nan, good, tender,
motherly Nan, put her arm about her and
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 289
told her not to cry, that Tom Andy Bill
would be home again before long.
Mab answered between her sobs : " Yes, I
know he'll be back. I'm foolish, but I feel
something tells me that I'll never see
him again, and and oh, I'm so ashamed
of myself, but I can't help it, Nan, I can't
help it."
Balser was waiting for me at the gate, so
my sisters kissed me again, and I saw Nan
motion to Betty and Sue to. leave. When
they had gone into the house, Nan kissed me
and took Mab by the hand, saying, " Tom
Andy Bill is your brother, too, Mab." Then
she led her to me and hurried into the house,
and and well, I I can't tell you
about that
Balser and I found the old man waiting for
us, and he was overjoyed when we said we
would go with him.
At Cincinnati we had purchased two fine
saddles with enormous saddle-bags. We had
also bought two beautiful short-barrel, smooth-
bore guns, in which we could use either a
large bullet or bird shot. We each took a
vast store of ammunition, a fine woollen
blanket, a new buckskin suit, and an extra
2QO UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
pair of boots. We rode a pair of fine horses,
and in fact we had an outfit good enough for
any dandy traveller.
It was the first week in May when we
started. We did not reach Fort Chicago till
the last week in June, and that was considered
a record-breaking trip. Chicago, at that time,
consisted of a few houses built in the midst
of the muddiest mud I ever saw. Soon after
we reached there, Balser and I began making
cautious inquiries about Indians.
Every day brought numbers of the redskins
to the Fur Company's quarters, and we con-
trived to question most of them about the
Wyandottes. We were always on our guard
when asking questions concerning the rem-
nant of the tribe, for our secret was so precious
we feared it would leak out with every
word we spoke. There was, of course, little
danger of our betraying our thoughts; but if
you will let five thousand dollars rest on your
mind for two or three years, to the exclusion
of everything else, you'll learn what a burden
gold really may be.
Balser and I had grown to be monoma-
niacs on the subject of the treasure, but Bal-
ser's affliction was more serious than mine.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 291
He lived and breathed treasure, and dreamed
of it open-eyed and asleep.
The Fur Company paid us double wages,
as our old friend had promised, and we were
eager to get away and to learn the where-
abouts of the lost tribe of Wyandottes.
We had been waiting nearly a week at
Fort Chicago when, by the merest accident,
Balser stumbled upon an Indian who was
just leaving the fort. Balser addressed him
by the salutation we had learned from Wyan-
dotte, and the Indian, who was surprised and
seemed pleased, responded in the same tongue.
" Do you speak English ? " asked Balser.
" Leetle spik him," replied the Indian.
" Are you a Wyandottte ? " asked Balser.
" Yes, Wyandotte," he answered.
" I love Wyandotte," said Balser. " My
friend loves Wyandotte. We cry because
the Wyandottes were treated so cruelly by
the bad whites."
The Indian began to talk rapidly for an
Indian, and Balser invited him to the cabin
we were occupying on the skirts of the fort.
There we gave the Indian a few presents
and asked him where his tribe was. He
told us that the few remaining Wyandotte
292 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Indians had joined with a band of Winneba-
goes that had come down from the north, and
that they were all living now in the prairies
west of Chicago, toward the great Father of
Waters, the Mississippi.
Balser and I were overjoyed at the news,
and told him we were going in that direc-
tion. We said he might travel with us if
he wished, and that we meant to stop with
his tribe for a while and would give them
presents.
We hastily saddled our horses, packed our
saddle-bags, and off we went with the Indian,
whose name was Broken Toe.
That night we camped in the prairie, feast-
ing on prairie hens. The next night we also
camped in the prairie, and Broken Toe told
us we should reach the Indian village next
day at " half sun," that is, noon. We knee-
haltered our horses, placed our saddle-bags,
guns, etc., under a waterproof canvas, rolled
ourselves in our blankets, and went to sleep.
When we awoke in the morning, Broken
Toe was missing. So were our horses,
saddles, saddle-bags, and guns. We were
left with nothing but our blankets and the
clothing we wore. The sky was overclouded,
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 293
and we could not see the sun. We could
not tell east from west, nor north from south.
On every hand the flat, grass-covered prairie
was bounded only by the horizon. No ob-
ject of any sort broke the dead level as far as
our eyes could reach. We had not a mouth-
ful to eat, nor any means of procuring food.
When we awakened we were very hungry,
but the realization of our desperate condi-
tion drove all thoughts of breakfast from our
minds.
After gazing about us helplessly for a few
moments, Balser said :
" Now, what do you think of this ? "
" Don't say a word," I answered. " Let us
start in some direction, and we'll soon raise
something above the horizon."
We folded our blankets, threw them over
our shoulders, and prepared to march.
" Which way shall we go ? " asked Balser.
" I don't care, so that we get to moving in
some direction," I answered. " If we could
only see the sun for a moment, it would at
least be some satisfaction to know the points
of the compass. We are as badly lost here
in daylight as we were in the darkness of
the cave, but we have this advantage ; we
294 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
can keep on going. Which way shall we
go?"
" We'll go with the wind," suggested Balser.
" That's the word," said I.
Balser tossed a handful of dry grass into
the air, and we started off with the wind.
Soon after we had started rain began to fall.
The rain made us very uncomfortable, and
we grumbled because our blankets and cloth-
ing were wet, but a man often finds fault with
the very thing he needs.
Before the rain we had been walking along
aimlessly; there was nothing to guide us.
But within an hour after the rain began, the
ground became soft, and soon we noticed the
tracks of two horses. Had the rain not
softened the soil, we could not have seen the
tracks, and we might have been wandering
over the boundless prairie yet. We knew
that the tracks we saw had been left by our
horses, for ours were shod, while the Indian's
horse never knows the luxury of a shoe.
The horse tracks gave us new life, and we
followed up the trail at a rapid walk. We
were growing very tired, when, toward even-
ing, I noticed on the horizon, almost in front
of us, a blue spiral of smoke. As the day
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 295
was misty and the atmosphere thick, I knew
the smoke could not be seen at a great dis-
tance; therefore I felt sure that within an
hour we should at least find fire, and where
fire is, man is not far distant. The smoke
rose higher and higher as we drew near it,
and before long we easily distinguished the
skin-covered tents or tepees of an Indian
village.
We had little fear of the Indians except
for the fact that they had stolen our horses
and might want to kill us to hide their theft.
We were soaked to the skin, almost starved,
and without means of getting food. We
were nearly exhausted, and had no choice
but to appeal to the Indians for help. We
therefore marched as boldly as possible right
into the village, though, to tell the truth, all
the boldness was on the outside and there
was a great deal of fear within. We both
wished ourselves well at home and once more
felt like cursing the Wyandotte treasure.
The first sight that greeted our eyes on
entering the village was our horses. The
second object we observed was a pack of
hungry-looking, vicious dogs that charged
down upon us with an evident eye to supper
296 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
The barking of the dogs aroused the Indians,
and we were soon surrounded by half a hun-
dred men, women, and children, all talking,
shouting, and howling at once. In their
midst was Broken Toe, who seemed to be
their leader. The Indian men immediately
formed a ring about us, and began a most
disconcerting war-dance with two badly
frightened boys in the center. The war-
dance now meant death to us later on.
" We're goners this time," said Balser.
" Don't say a word," said I.
The Indians kept up their absurd dancing
and war-whoops, and soon their crazy antics
became amusing to me. I laughed, and
Balser said :
" For the Lord's sake, Tom Andy Bill,
don't laugh. Don't you know they're going
to kill us ? Do you see that red devil coming
on the jump with his tomahawk ? "
"Don't say a word," said I. " The Indians
will think none the less of us for laughing at
them. If a man laughs when he dies, he
takes all the sting out of death."
11 Good Lord, Tom Andy Bill, you freeze
my blood," said Balser. " There comes an-
other fiend with a knife as long as my arm."
" III MADE A THRUST AT MI AS II KB INTENDED TO HIDE HIS
KNIFE-BLADE IN MY BODY "
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 297
The Indian with the long knife sprang
howling into the circle, and made a thrust at
me as if he intended to hide his knife-blade
in my body. I didn't flinch. I laughed at
him. Then a double-jointed giant sprang in
front of Balser and raised his murderous-look-
ing tomahawk above his head. I thought
Balser's hour had come at last, but I said :
" Don't say a word. Laugh."
Balser didn't look as if he wanted to laugh,
but he sent forth a peal that was a pretty good
imitation of the real thing.
Indians don't laugh, therefore they don't
fully understand the meaning of laughter.
In a dim way they seem to comprehend that
it means, "Do your worst; I don't care a
straw ! " and of all the sentiments a man can
express, the Indian respects that most.
Presently another Indian sprang in front
of me, and with a demoniac howl flourished
his tomahawk above my head. I laughed at
him and waved him off with a turn of my
hand, as if to say, " Oh, stop your foolishness !"
when he joined the howling jumping-jacks
that surrounded us.
After the men had danced about us till they
were tired, they gave way to the squaws, who
298 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
formed another circle. One old hag left the
ring and spat upon me. I laughed and spat
back at her, as if we were playing a game at
a frolic.
The Indian's most expressive and useful
word is a grunt, " Ugh? It may mean anger,
disgust, assent, refusal, and on rare occasions
it is used to express the meagre sensation of
amusement they sometimes feel. A strong
emotion of joy, or a feeling of what we would
call amusement, the Indian expresses, if at all,
in howls, whoops, and shouts. While the old
hag and I were playing our little game, I dis-
tinctly heard several Indian men give utter-
ance to the grunt " Ugh."
I was more or less familiar with the various
intonations of the sound and could imper-
fectly guess at their significance, as one may
learn the different meanings of a dog's bark,
so I gathered that our little game had, in
a way, amused the bucks. After dancing
about us for ten minutes, the squaws fell
upon Balser and me and stripped us of most
of our clothing. They took our blankets,
hats, coats, and shoes, and left us only our
trousers. Then they ran away, grunting
and cackling.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 299
After we had stood alone for the space of
three or four minutes, I noticed a dozen war-
riors coming toward us, as if they were trying
to steal upon their prey. Broken Toe was
in the lead. I also noticed that two of the
men carried in their hands, behind them, lar-
iats or ropes of leather. At first, I thought
they intended to hang us, but I soon called
to mind the fact that Indians never inflict
death by hanging. I also reflected that there
was not a tree in sight, and I knew there was
not enough timber within a radius of twenty
miles to build a scaffold. I therefore con-
cluded that the redskins were stealing upon
us for the purpose of overpowering us by a
sudden attack, and binding our hands and
feet.
" Good-by, Tom Andy Bill," said Balser,
dolefully ; " they're going to hang us."
" Don't you believe it," I answered hur-
riedly ; " I wasn't born to be hung. They
mean to throw us to the ground and then
bind us. Let's save them part of the trouble."
When the Indians approached, I walked
toward them, holding my arms extended and
my wrists together, ready to be bound. The
Indians stopped, but I continued to go toward
3 oo UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
them, holding out my wrists for the lariat
I stopped in front of one of the men with
the ropes, and Balser stopped in front of
the other. Our conduct inspired a series of
grunts.
" Ugh, ugh, ugh," in all its inflections fell
upon our ears. We could not interpret the
grunts, but presently Broken Toe made a
sign to the men with the lariats, and they
proceeded to bind our wrists. When this
pleasing job was finished, I stepped up to
Broken Toe and spoke the one word
" Friend " ; but he grunted a contemptuous
" Ugh," and touched his knife significantly.
I waited for thirty seconds, and then I said :
" Hungry. Eat. Drink." Again a chorus
of grunts greeted us, and all the Indians be-
gan to talk at once. We could not under-
stand what they were saying, but it was
evident they were arguing the question of
our fate. Some of the Indians apparently
wanted to befriend us; but Broken Toe,
being the one who had stolen our horses,
seemed to oppose all kindly intentions.
After a great deal of grunting and talking,
Broken Toe made an angry gesture, accom-
panied by some words of command. There-
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 301
upon two Indians took charge of Balser, and
two grasped my arms. Broken Toe walked
off toward the other end of the village, and
we were forced to follow. We soon came
to an open space surrounded by tepees, and
there one of the Indians said in English, "Sit
down."
We gladly obeyed, for we were very tired.
The thongs of leather were removed from
our wrists ; our arms were bent behind us, and
in that position we were tied. Then the
Indians bound our ankles. The brutes drew
the lariats so tight that I saw blood spurt
from Balser's wrists, and felt blood trickling
down my hands behind me.
"Curse the brutes," cried Balser. "I'll
never again say a good word for an Indian.
I'm almost dead now. If they are going to
kill us, I wish they'd do it at once."
" Don't say a word," said I. " While there's
life there's hope, and I'll bet you my half of
Wyandotte's treasure that we'll get out of
this all right. Brace up, old fellow, and
laugh. Make the red devils think that the
lariat tickles you ! "
I began to whistle, though it was pretty
hard work, and when the Indians turned to
3 o2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
look at me in wonder, I spoke to Balser,
laughing as if it were all a huge joke. Bal-
ser, too, laughed, and I called to Broken Toe,
saying :
"I'm hungry, give me something to eat;
and I'm thirsty, give me something to drink ! "
But soon the Indians left us, and when they
had gone, I thought I was going to collapse.
As usual, I was brave when some one was
looking on. I do believe I should have cried
if Balser had crooked his finger at me, but he
couldn't do it, being bound; so I soon began
to whistle to keep my courage up. Balser
began to groan, but I checked him, saying :
" Be game, Balser, be game ! You've got
to die sometime. If you die now, it will
save you the trouble later on. Always finish
a bad job as soon as possible."
" I don't mind for myself," he answered,
almost ready for tears, " but I'm thinking of
how poor mother will wait and grieve for me
through all the years of her life. She will
never know my fate ; neither will your mother
nor Mab ever know."
" Ah, Balser, please don't ! don't ! I had
worked myself into fine shape, but the thought
of Mab and my mother oh! don't, don't!
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 303
You mustn't think of such things now.
Drive such thoughts out of your mind, and
we'll show these demons how to die. That's
the one thing they know better how to do
than we."
" But I don't want to know how," answered
Balser.
"Well, you'll know before long, if I'm not
mistaken, so laugh while you can, for the time
will soon come when you'll laugh no more.
I don't know how they're going to kill us,
but it does look dark for us. However, I'll
stick to my bet, and I'll wager my half of the
treasure that we get out of the scrape yet.
There's no use taking the darker view of it
until there's no other view to take, and I'm
sorry I said you would not have long to
laugh. You have many a laugh ahead of
you yet, Balser. Cheer up ! Cheer up, and
take my wager."
" Tom Andy Bill, I believe you're crazy,"
said Balser, " but if you are, I wish I could
go crazy, too, or that these redskins would
hurry up and finish us."
We were sitting on the ground, bound
hand and foot, and of course could not rise.
Balser had hardly finished speaking when
3 o4 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
two old squaws came toward us, one bearing
a bucket of water and the other carrying a
pan of cornmeal mush. They placed the
bucket and the pan on the ground, and kneel-
ing close beside us, teasingly offered first the
water and then the mush ; but our hands being
bound, we could take neither. This evidently
was great sport to the hags, for they grunted
and cackled gleefully. They had no inten-
tion of giving us food, but evidently had been
sent by Broken Toe to torment us.
In the pan of mush was a great wooden
spoon. One of the squaws, dipping out a
spoonful of mush, held it toward my mouth.
I leaned forward to take the mush, but when
my lips touched it, I found that it was scald-
ing hot, and quickly drew away. This also
seemed to amuse the hags ; and to make the
joke doubly funny, she thrust the hot mush
in my face. The pain was excruciating, but
I laughed. I had made up my mind that I
would not give these red demons the satis-
faction of knowing I could suffer pain.
Just as the old hag thrust the mush in my
face, several men approached. The humor-
ous squaw was kneeling near my feet and the
pan of mush was just behind her. I con-
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 305
tinued to laugh, but I wanted to kill the old
she-devil ; so I lifted my feet, and as if I were
carrying out the joke, kicked her in the face
and she fell backward. My part of the jest
proved better than I had hoped, for she
quickly stretched out her hand to keep from
falling backward, and put it in the hot mush.
Then a howl went up that might have been
heard all over the village. It was the sweet-
est note I ever heard come from an Indian's
lips, and I laughed in real earnest. In a
moment the squaw was upon me, belaboring
my head with the wooden spoon ; but one of
the men whom I fancied had spoken in our
behalf when we first entered the village came
to my rescue, thrust her violently from me,
gave her two or three kicks, and sent her
about her business.
The Indian spoke to the other squaw, and
she poured a little of the water into the mush
to cool it. She then held the rim of the
bucket to our lips, and we drank. I tell you,
the delicious ecstasy one finds in a drink of
water is well worth a day of thirst. After
we had drunk our fill, the squaw fed us the
mush and we felt much better. When we
had eaten, we were left to ourselves.
3 o6 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
Soon after the sun had gone down, we
heard in another part of the village a faint,
low chant rising and falling with the gusts of
wind.
" That chant is our funeral song," said
Balser.
I feared he was right, but I tried to think
of something else, though with little success.
Presently we saw the light of a fire a short
distance off.
" There comes a man with an armful of
wood," said Balser. " And there comes an-
other ! I do believe the red devils are going
to burn us ! "
" Don't saya word," said I, trying to whistle,
but it did look very much as if he were
right.
Within less than ten minutes after we saw
the fire, the men came howling and bounding
into the open space that surrounded Balser
and me. The redskins were in full war paint
and feathers. Some of them had their arms
full of wood, which they threw down within
ten yards of where Balser and I lay.
Presently a buck ran back to the fire we had
first seen, and soon returned, waving on high
a burning brand. As he passed us, he thrust
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 307
it in Balser's face, and would have burned
him had he not quickly fallen backward.
" Laugh," I whispered. Balser laughed,
but I never want to hear another laugh like
that.
Soon the redskins had a great fire blazing
in front of us. When it was well under way,
they formed a circle about us and began to
whoop and howl and dance. The glow of
the fire on the painted faces of the Indians
made them look like demons, and the lights
and shadows dancing about like infernal imps
made the place look like a scene from the
very depths of the inferno.
The men danced and howled for a long time,
perhaps for half an hour, and judging from
the preparations they were making with the
fire, I felt sure they were getting ready to
burn us, and would soon have us roasting on
a bed of coals.
I said to Balser : " I withdraw that bet.
It will soon be all over, old boy, but die like
a man. Game is the word."
" Don't fear for me," he answered ; " I am
ready. The devils can't begin too soon."
Hardly had he spoken when four Indians
rushed in upon us, lifted us rudely to our feet,
308 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
and began to drag us toward the great bed of
coals. When we came within twenty feet of
the fire, the Indians stopped. During the
little space of time in which we were being
dragged toward the fire, I happened to think
of the name " Monyomo." When the men
who had us in charge paused, the howling of
the redskins ceased, and a brief silence en-
sued; then I lifted my face toward the sky
and shouted the words : " Wyandotte Wy-
olyo ! ! Monyomo ! ! "
The result was magical, and I saw the In-
dians start and look toward me in surprise.
I thought if a little was good, a great deal
was better, so lifting my head and looking
toward the sky, I again called out in long-
drawn syllables :
" Wy an dotte Wy ol yo ! ! Mon-
yo-o-o-mo-o ! ! "
After a long pause I again made my in-
cantation. When I ceased the men drew
away from us to a short distance, speaking
in hushed, awe-stricken voices the words
" Wyandotte Wyolyo Wyandotte Wyolyo."
Broken Toe seemed to insist upon burning
us, but others opposed him. After a long
consultation, two of them ran toward a large
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 309
tepee standing perhaps a hundred yards dis-
tant from us. Soon they came running back
and said something to the other Indians.
Immediately the thongs were removed from
our ankles, and one of the Indians said,
" Come." He started toward the large tepee,
and we gladly followed, with Broken Toe
grumbling at our heels. When we reached
the wigwam, Broken Toe and another Indian
entered with us, and there, by the dim light
of a small torch, we saw our old friend Wy-
andotte lying on a blanket.
" Tomandybilladdison?" asked Wyandotte,
in a weak voice.
" Yes," I answered.
" Balserbrent ? " the old Indian asked, and
Balser said :
" Yes."
Wyandotte lay still for a moment ; then he
said something in the Indian language, and
Broken Toe held the torch, first to my face,
then to Balser's. The old man rose to his
elbow, waved his hand to Broken Toe, and
said, " Ugh ! "
My ears, sharpened by every instinct I
possessed, caught the intonation of the word,
and in some mysterious way I seemed to
3 io UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
know that our lives were saved if Wyandotte
could save them.
" We're all right," I whispered aside to
Balser, and turning to Wyandotte, I in-
quired : " Are you sick, Wyandotte ? "
" Yes ; to die," answered the old Indian,
falling back upon his bed. He was almost
exhausted by the effort he had made ; but
after he had regained a little strength, he
spoke to the Indians, and the thongs were re-
moved from our wrists. My hands were life-
less, and I feared that I should never again
be able to use them. I could not have lifted
a straw from the ground.
We waited anxiously for Wyandotte to
speak; and by and by he said, pointing to
Broken Toe, who was standing just inside
the tepee door :
" Broken Toe stole your horses ? "
"Yes," I answered.
" Your guns ? "
"Yes."
" Your saddles ? "
"Yes."
" Going to kill ye, maybe ? " asked the old
Indian.
" Yes," I answered.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 311
" That man ? " he asked, pointing again to
Broken Toe.
" Yes. He directed the preparations to
burn us," I responded.
Wyandotte's eyes glistened, and after a
great effort he rose again to a sitting posture
in his bed, uttering the one word, " Gun."
Broken Toe handed the old man his gun
and stepped back toward the door of the tepee
with the look of a frightened wolf in his face.
Wyandotte examined the gun for a moment,
and deliberately lifted it to his shoulder. A
flash and a report startled us, and Broken
Toe lay dead at the feet of his chief.
Wyandotte put the gun beside him on the
ground, lay down on his blanket, and said,
speaking to me :
" Go. Wyandotte see you to-morrow."
We stepped over the still quivering body
of Broken Toe, and walked out of Wyandotte's
tepee with a new lease of life.
Just outside the tepee we found a score of
Indian men standing about in silence. They
had discarded their war feathers, and looked
like a pack of crestfallen, cowardly wolves.
The fellow that had us in charge spoke a few
words to the others, and conducted us to a
3 i2 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
tepee near by. The inmates of the wigwam
were turned out, and we were put in posses-
sion. Our clothing, blankets, saddles, saddle-
bags, guns, and ammunition were all brought
into the tent, and within half an hour a
young squaw brought us two broiled prairie
hens, a pan of corn pone, and a bucket of
water. These she placed before us and took
her leave.
"The following morning we saw Wyandotte,
but I'll tell you about that to-morrow even-
ing," said Tom Andy Bill.
" Please tell us about it now, Uncle Tom,"
pleaded Mab.
" Bless your life, sweetheart," he answered,
" you can hardly keep your eyes open now."
" Oh, yes, I can," answered Mab. " I'll not
be able to close them this night for thinking
of those awful Indians and the way they
treated you." She nervously grasped the
favorite finger, and continued : " Oh, but I am
glad I have you ! You shall never, never
any more go where I can't see you. I'll stay
awake all night, watching you through the
door for fear something will get you. I know
I can't sleep a wink."
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 313
" Yes, you will, honey," the old man an-
swered, rising to his feet. " I'll kiss your
eyelids and speak a charm a sure charm
that I know, and you can't help going to
sleep." Then the two children, one a
child in years, the other a child in heart,
hand in hand, went off to bed.
I remained before the fire long after the
rest of the audience had departed, and pres-
ently there came to me over the bedroom
transom, the deep, clear voice of Tom Andy
Bill, speaking the charm as softly as a mother
coos to her babe :
" Sandman, banish tears and sighs,
Sandman Sandman, close Mab's eyes."
I sat musing while the soft tones of the
deep voice and the music of the couplet hung
in my ears, and presently I heard a baby
voice calling :
" The charm is a good one one Uncle
Tom Andy Bill. I'm almost al-most
a-a-a-" But only the sandman heard the
sweet word " sleep."
CHAPTER XII
SEARCH FOR THE TREASURE
Our hands and fingers were so numb and
lifeless that we could hardly put on our cloth-
ing ; but we helped each other, and after a
great deal of hard work, mingled with abuse
of the Indians, we dressed ourselves. We
tried to eat, but that, too, was a difficult task,
for we could hardly hold the wing of a prairie
hen between our fingers. But we managed
to satisfy our hunger, and then we lay down
and tried to get a little rest. All night long
we suffered greatly from our hands, but to-
ward morning the blood began to circulate
through our fingers, and life returned, little
by little.
When we came out from our tepee, we
saw our horses hitched to stakes before the
door. We soon met several Indian men and
women, but they were as meek as whipped
curs and did not look us in the face. Our
breakfast of prairie hen was brought to our
\\l |AW (Hk HORSES HITCHKI) TO STAKES BEFORE THE DOOR"
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 315
tent, and we were treated with every con-
sideration.
After breakfast our great task was to be
undertaken. The object of our long, hard
journey was to be gained or lost. Our dreams
were to be realized or were to vanish, as a
cloud dissolves upon the fathomless blue. So
far as I was concerned, either result would be
better than the dreaming uncertainty we had
lived in for so long. It is true the dreams
were sweet, but they kept us in a state of
frothy excitement, and we had been unable
to think seriously of anything but the phan-
tom gold since we first heard of it. Now
the phantom would materialize or fade away
soon after we entered Wyandotte's tepee, and
we intended to enter it just as soon as we
had swallowed breakfast. Now that the story
of the treasure was coming to an end, we
would not endure the suspense longer than
was actually necessary.
Immediately after breakfast we started for
Wyandotte's tepee, and found the old man
lying where we had left him the night before.
" Good morning, Wyandotte," said I.
" Ugh," he answered feebly.
" Are you feeling badly ? " I asked.
316 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" Ugh," he responded, and I knew he
meant "yes."
" I wish I could help you," I said. " Have
you pain ? "
" Heap pain here," he replied, placing his
hand on his breast.
" If you will send an Indian with us to the
nearest town, we will send you medicine to
stop the pain," I suggested, feeling very sorry
for the poor old fellow.
" No medicine will stop it," he said con-
temptuously.
"Yes, Wyandotte," I insisted. "We will
send you a medicine that will ease the pain.
It will not cure you, but it will give you rest.
It is far better than fire-water."
" Ugh ! " he answered, which in this in-
stance signified consent and doubt. After a
long pause, he said : " Tomandybilladdison
wants the gold. No get it."
" I do want the treasure," I answered,
very earnestly and quietly, "if you want me
to have it. But if you want it to remain hid-
den forever in the cave, of no use to any one,
I haven't a word to say. We helped you and
you helped us, so the debt is even. The treas-
ure is nothing to you. It is a great deal to
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 317
us, but if you are like the dog in the manger,
that won't eat and won't let any one else eat,
we must go away and let you die with the
secret in your heart.
" You will be sorry when it is too late," I
continued, " that you did not tell us where
the treasure is. When you are about to die,
you will wish you had told us, and ' too late '
is a sad death song for a man to sing. It is
like a sun that never shines, like the rain
that never falls, like the flower that never
blooms, like the bird that never flies, like the
man that never lives. The man who dies with it
on his lips turns over in his grave and moans
out the sad, sad words, ' Too late, too late ! '
and they spoil even his pleasure in the happy
hunting ground."
Wyandotte turned away from us, and we
sat upon the ground waiting for him to speak.
We knew we could neither bribe nor coax
the secret from him. After a long silence, I
said :
" You love us and we love you. I know
you would rather we should have the treas-
ure than that any one else should get it."
I paused, but he gave no sign that he had
heard me, and I continued : " Is there any
3 i8 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
one else you wish should have it ? If there is,
we will be glad to tell them anything that
you say to us, and we will, if you wish, take
them to the treasure and give it all to them.
You know that Tom Andy Bill never lies."
There was no response. I was almost
ready to abandon the effort, but I tried
again :
" Others of your tribe probably know where
the treasure is, and when you are dead, they
will sell the secret to white men for a bottle
of fire-water. You will never get the treasure,
and unless there is some one else you wish
should have it, you might as well tell us where
and how to find it."
My object in putting the question in this
way was to learn if any other Indian pos-
sessed the precious secret. If so, I might be
able to buy it. Wyandotte did not immedi-
ately answer my question, but after a long,
trying pause, he said :
11 No one knows but Monyomo."
My heart sank, for I felt that the secret of
the treasure would go to the grave with the
old man who lay dying before us.
Balser and I talked to Wyandotte on many
subjects, and asked a great number of ques-
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 319
tions, bearing directly or indirectly upon the
treasure, but we received no response. At
times we thought him asleep or dead, but
now and then he coughed or moved. Aside
from these manifestations of life, we might
as well have been talking to a log. When
we had abandoned all hope of making him
talk, we sat beside his bed in silence for at
least an hour. Suddenly he turned toward
us and said angrily :
" Tomandybilladdison, better go 'way
better go 'way from Indians. If Monyomo
die, Indians kill Tomandybilladdison sure.
Monyomo die soon."
We felt that both statements were true. It
was evident that Wyandotte could not live
long; and we were sure beyond a possible
doubt that two white boys would quickly
follow him into the dark if they remained
until after he was dead.
I waited for a minute or two after he had
spoken, and then I said, speaking gently :
" You are right, Wyandotte. We must go
before you die, or your friends will certainly
kill us. May your god and our God help
you. Good -by, Wyandotte. Shake hands
with us. We want you to die knowing that
320 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
at least two white boys love you and are
your friends."
He reluctantly gave his hand to us in fare-
well, and we started toward the door of the
tepee, saying :
" Send an Indian with us, Wyandotte, and
we will give him medicine to ease your pain.
Our medicine men call it opium, and I give
you my word that you will have no pain if
you take it. It will not cure you of your
disease, but I promise you it will give you
rest. It is like fire-water, but much better."
" Wyandotte will not tell you where the
gold is," said the stubborn old Indian.
" No," I answered, " I don't ask you to tell
us. That's all over, and you've had your way
about it."
" You send the medicine that is better than
fire-water anyway ? " he asked.
" I promise to send it, and I promise you
that it is better than fire-water and will ease
your pain, and you know that the voice of
Tom Andy Bill Addison is always the voice
of truth. He speaks no empty words. Good-
by, Wyandotte."
" Good-by, Wyandotte," said Balser.
We were passing out of the tepee slowly,
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 321
regretfully, leaving behind us our sweet
dream of gold, when the old man cried out
hoarsely :
" Come back, Tomandybilladdison ! "
Balser started back hurriedly, but I checked
him, and we returned slowly to the Indian's
bedside. Wyandotte was struggling to rise
in his bed, and we helped him. He sat for a
moment, coughing violently, but when the
fit had passed, he pointed to a box, saying,
" Bring."
Balser placed it by the bedside, and the old
man, taking a key from a string that hung
about his neck, began to unlock the box. I
felt that our dream of gold, which had al-
most vanished in thin air, was about to be
realized, and I trembled as a leaf shakes
when the east wind breathes upon it. Balser,
too, was pale and showed his agitation.
" Don't say a word," I whispered under my
breath.
Wyandotte's weak hands trembled piteously
and I thought he would never be able to
open the box, but he finally turned the key
and lifted the lid. From the box he took a
roll of buckskin, and from the buckskin he
took a smaller roll of parchment. With
322 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
trembling hands, he stretched the parchment
on the blanket before him, and told me to
hold it in place. I at once knew it was a
rude map of the cave. He pointed to a spot
on the map and said :
" There ! "
I examined it very carefully, but the map
was so poorly drawn that I could make
nothing of the marks and lines, and told him
so.
" Tell us how we may find the cave, Wyan-
dotte," said I, speaking gently and almost
tenderly to the old man, for I did feel sorry
for him.
" Go to the town where the fathers of the
white people live where they have a big
talking house," he answered, speaking slowly
and reluctantly. To give up the secret of his
life was almost as hard to the Indian as to
give up life itself. A painful silence followed,
and I thought he was going to speak no
more, but presently he continued : " Go west
from that town, walking- slowly from sun-up
till half-noon. There see a narrow river be-
tween high banks, flowing west. Go down
the river till river turns south at a stony hill
like the half of an egg. Go up hill. Go
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 323
over hill, over middle of top. Go down hill
in middle of hill halfway, till you see big
rock, with arrow cut near the ground on
south side of rock. Arrow points to cave.
Two toes, two hands walk." (Forty steps
away.)
" What is the name of the town, Wyan-
dotte ? " I asked.
44 No know name of white man's town," he
answered ; 44 half-sun walk from river."
44 From the Ohio River ? " I asked.
44 Ugh," he answered, and I supposed he
meant "yes," though I was not at all sure.
We questioned him about the cave, but
could learn nothing more definite than I have
told you. In fact, it seemed that we had
learned nothing at all.
44 Are there many caves within the cave ? "
I asked.
He spread his hands apart as far as his
arms could reach, meaning to say, Indian
fashion, that there were so many he could
not tell their number.
44 Your map is not clear to us," I said.
44 Won't you tell me how we may know the
room in which the treasure is concealed ? "
He thought for a moment, and answered :
324 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" Ask in every cave. Ask the god Wyandotte
Wyolyo. Say to him, ' Gold, gold, gold,' and
when you come to the right cave he will an-
swer. There is but one cave in which he lives.
There is but one room in which he will answer
your question. The gold is on top of a
devil's head."
He fell back upon the bed, handed me the
map, and uttered the one word, " Go."
We could not induce Wyandotte to speak
again, so after a half-hour spent in fruitless
endeavor to learn more accurately the situa-
tion of the cave and the exact spot in which
the gold was buried, we again said good-by,
and left, taking the map with us.
We told an Indian that Wyandotte wanted
some one to go with us to the nearest town,
and the fellow went in to see the chief.
When the Indian came back, he directed a
young man to go with us, and five minutes
later we were riding in a southeasterly di-
rection over the prairie, both glad and sorry
to leave.
The Indian that accompanied us rode an
active pony and we travelled rapidly. Neither
Balser nor I mentioned the treasure in the
presence of our companion.
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 325
Before sundown that night we reached a
small town and stopped at the tavern. We
immediately sought a physician and told him
what we wanted for Wyandotte. The physi-
cian prepared a large number of doses of
opium and directed the Indian concerning
their use. After supper the Indian started
on his return trip, and never from that day
to this have I seen a Wyandotte, and never
again do I want to see one.
Balser and I agreed not to mention the
treasure in any house, nor near any man,
woman, or child. After supper we walked
out in the prairie to discuss our marvellous
adventure, and to talk over the meagre in-
formation we had obtained concerning the
treasure.
" We're not much better off than when we
started from Blue River," said I. " Wyan-
dotte's town, where the fathers of the white
people live, is rather a vague metropolis, and
his directions to ask the god, Wyandotte
Wyolyo, about the gold is nothing but idiotic
nonsense. He might as well have told us to
ask the wind. He said the gold was on a
devil's head. It's all in his own head; I be-
lieve he's crazy. I'm beginning to think that
326 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
we, too, are growing 'lurry,' and that there
is no treasure at all."
" Well, you had better begin to think
again," answered Balser, in an injured tone,
" for there is a treasure and we will find it.
Wyandotte told us where it is just as accu-
rately as the poor, ignorant old savage could
describe the place. All we have to do is to
understand what he said. If we can't find
his meaning, we don't deserve to find the
gold."
" But you don't suppose his god will an-
swer us ? " I asked indignantly ; " or that a
devil is going to bend his head for our in-
spection ? "
"Of course I don't," he replied. "That's
not what Wyandotte meant. He meant some-
thing else, and that something else is what we
must discover."
" Well, you discover it," I retorted, growing
angry at Balser's stubbornness. " I'm ready
to admit that it is beyond the scope of my
feeble intellect. While you're on your voyage
of discovery into this realm of dreams, you
might try your hand, or your brain, on the
question, ' Where is the town where the
fathers of the white people live ? ' It's in the
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 327
clouds, I tell you, and I'm disgusted with it
all. I'm going to quit dreaming about
the gold, and I'm going to work to clear the
ground and make a farm for myself. The
gold has brought us to death's door twice.
The third time will be the charm, and we'll
die some miserable death because we have
been fools enough to listen to the tale of a
crazy old Indian."
" I'm surprised at you, Tom Andy Bill,"
said Balser, indignantly, walking away toward
the town.
We went to bed early, and you may be sure
we were asleep soon after our tired bodies
struck the bed. In the middle of the night
I was awakened by some one shaking me.
It was Balser.
" What's the matter? " I asked.
He put his mouth to my ear and whis-
pered, " I know the town."
" Of course you do," I answered, with fine
irony, "and you'll recognize the voice of
Wyandotte Wyolyo when he answers your
question, and of course you will know the
devil with the gold on top of his head as soon
as you see him."
" But I do know it," insisted Balser. " The
328 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
town where the fathers of the white people
live, and where they have a big talking house,'
is Corydon, the old capital of Indiana.
Wyandotte referred to the Governor and to
the legislature when he spoke of ' the fathers
of the white people,' and the capitol building
is ' the big talking house.' "
" By George, you're right, Balser," I ex-
claimed aloud. " Just as sure as you're alive,
you're right ! You're no fool, Balser ! I wish-
I had one-tenth your brains."
He put his hand over my mouth, and
again whispered, " Let's get up and go out
on the prairie."
We arose, dressed hurriedly, and walked
some distance out of town into the open
prairie, where we could speak of our precious
secret with no fear that it would be discovered.
There we discussed the question, and Balser
had little difficulty in convincing me that his
interpretation of Wyandotte's words was
correct. But the old man's instructions direct-
ing us to ask his god about the gold seemed
to me to cast doubt on all he had told us.
Balser, with his usual persistency, said :
" Never you mind, Tom Andy Bill. We'll
learn the meaning of that, too. Just let us
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 329
find the cave, and I'd almost stake my life
we'll find the gold."
Next morning we started out early across
the trackless prairie, headed for another town
that lay in the general direction of home.
Before we had been riding an hour, we deter-
mined not to go directly home, but to make
our way straight to Corydon. If we went
home, we should have to give some explana-
tion for continuing our trip to Corydon; and
if our search for the treasure were to fail
after we had told the object of our mission,
we should return to Blue River a pair of crest-
fallen boys, to be laughed at by our friends.
" I'll go with you this time, Balser," said I,
" but it is the last fool's errand I'll undertake
in search of this phantom gold."
"This trip is all I'll ever ask you to make,"
he answered. "This time we'll get the gold,
gold, gold ! " He was already beginning to
speak to Wyandotte Wyolyo, the god.
Balser's enthusiasm was infectious, and I
had caught it long before we reached Corydon.
Three weeks after leaving the Wyandotte
village we reached Corydon, the old capital
of Indiana. After arriving at the quaint old
town, we began preparations for visiting the
33 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
cave, and for exploring it in case we found it.
We laid in a supply of provisions, bought one
skillet (our only cooking utensil), two tin cups,
two tin plates, knives, and forks. We also
bought five dozen candles, two large oil lan-
terns, wicks, and oil. We determined not to
depend upon our tinder box for light, but
laid in a supply of sulphur matches and bought
two small, water-tight metal match cases that
we intended to carry with us on our journey
through the cave.
We had been lost once in a dark cave, and
we had no notion of being caught in the same
predicament again. To further guard against
being lost, we bought a thousand feet of twine
in balls. We meant to fasten one end of the
string at the mouth of the cave, and then ex-
pected to carry the balls of twine with us,
unwinding them as we went in. All these
articles we stored in our saddle-bags.
Our outfit was so complete that I told
Balser we probably should have the luck of
the man who went fishing with too much
bait. He caught no fish. But Balser's faith
never flagged, and I had more confidence
than I was willing to express.
We started west one morning at sun-up
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 331
and within two or three hours came to the
deep, narrow river flowing between high
banks, described by Wyandotte. The dis-
covery that the old Indian had told the truth
about the river seemed to give a flavor of
verity to his entire story. When we first saw
the river, Balser cried out delightedly :
" Here's the river, Tom Andy Bill, and I
believe every word the poor old savage
said was true ! "
" Do you believe his god will tell us where
the gold is ? " I asked.
" Yes, I do," he answered. " I don't know
what he meant, but I'm going to follow his
instructions."
" Perhaps you had better commence pray-
ing to his god at once," I suggested. " It
would be a fine start for us to begin our
treasure hunt by breaking the first command-
ment."
" If I felt as you do about this matter, I'd
go home," answered Balser.
I laughed and said, " Don't say a word."
We followed the river bank as closely as
possible, and when the stream turned south,
sure enough, there to the right, that is, on
the north side of the river, was a high, stony
332 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
hill shaped like the half of an egg. When
Balser saw the hill, he could hardly breathe
for excitement, and I must confess that my
heart, too, was working pretty hard.
The side of the hill was steep and rocky,
but at the top there was a small grove of
trees. When we reached the foot of the
hill, we dismounted ; and after a hard climb,
arrived at the top, where we halted in the
grove, unloaded, and hitched the horses to
trees. It was nearly supper time, but we
could not wait to eat. We were so excited
that for once in our lives our appetites de-
serted us. We gave the horses a few ears of
corn, and started down the " middle of the
north side of the hill."
We had climbed it from the south, we had
passed over the "middle of the top," and then
we started down the "middle of the north
side."
We had hardly gone halfway down the
hill when Balser cried out:
" There's the arrow, Tom Andy Bill !
There's the arrow ! "
Sure enough, right before us was the arrow,
pointing east. We instantly started in the
direction indicated by the arrow ; and when
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 333
we had taken a few steps, we turned and faced
each other, dumb with amazement, for right
before us was the overhanging rock that cov-
ered the opening to the cave we had already
explored. On our former visit we had ap-
proached the hill from the north side, and on
this occasion we had failed to recognize it
because we had come upon it from the south.
To say that we were disappointed doesn't
half tell the story. We had searched every
nook and corner of the cave, and we felt sure
there was no treasure to be found in it. Even
Balser's enthusiasm was dampened, and with-
out a word we started up the hill to our horses,
ate our supper, lay down in our blankets, and
went to sleep, a pair of sadly disappointed
boys. When we awakened next morning we
were very downhearted, but after breakfast
Balser said :
" We're here, and we might as well explore
the cave again. We may have missed some
part of it when we were here before. We are
so well prepared that we can explore it now
without risk of being lost. I want to see The
Marble Room by a good light, anyway."
I, too, wanted to see the cave again ; so we
prepared the lamps, took a dozen candles,
334 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
fastened one end of the twine at the opening
of the cave, and entered upon our second ex-
ploration of this wonderful cavern. We en-
tered, lighted our torches, and unwound the
twine as we proceeded. A few minutes' walk
brought us to the wonderful marble chamber,
and we again examined every square foot of
the room. As on our former visit, we were
soon convinced that no treasure was con-
cealed in that chamber.
While we were pondering gloomily over
our second failure, Wyandotte's instructions
to call to the god occurred to Balser, and
lifting his face as if in prayer, he exclaimed,
" Gold, gold, gold ! "
No answer came, and I laughed. His call
to Wyandotte Wyolyo reminded us of Mon-
yomo's map. I took it from my pocket and,
by the light of the lanterns, examined the
rude tracings. We easily recognized the route
through the cave up to the marble chamber
in which we were sitting, but if Wyandotte's
map was correct, there were still many rooms
beyond.
We had not been able to find an opening
leading from the marble chamber, save the
one by which we had entered, but after ex-
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 335
amining the map, Balser sprang to his feet
and began trying to move the rocks that
rested near the wall of the cavern. I joined
in the labor, and soon I heard a cry of delight
from my friend. I looked and saw that he
had moved a large rock, and that in front
of him was a low opening penetrating the
stone wall of the chamber.
" Here is the opening represented by the
dim line on Wyandotte's map," cried Balser,
" and I'm sure it leads to the chamber in-
dicated by the circular line on the parch-
ment."
We examined the opening and found it so
small that to pass through it we must lie
upon our breasts. For a moment we hesitated
to enter, but no danger would have balked
Balser in his determination to find the treas-
ure. He lay down upon his breast, and, push-
ing the lamp before him, crawled into the
low, narrow tunnel, and I crawled after him,
pushing my lantern ahead of me.
After covering a distance of ten or fifteen
yards in the tunnel, we came to a point where
it made a sharp turn at right angles. Here
the tunnel was so narrow that we were com-
pelled to turn upon our sides to enable us to
336 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
pass the angle. It was " scary " work, I tell
you ; but after a long, hard spell of playing
snake, we emerged into another beautiful
marble chamber, more marvellous even than
the first.
We easily searched the new room, but found
no possible hiding place for the treasure.
Here, too, Balser lifted his face to the ceiling
and called out, Gold, gold, gold ! " but no
answering voice of the god greeted us.
Again I laughed, and Balser thought my
levity was far amiss. The passageways to
other chambers were all large, and in a short
time we had examined eight or ten beautiful
rooms.
In each chamber Balser called, " Gold, gold,
gold!" and I always found it very funny,
much to his disgust. We had been in the
cave perhaps four or five hours when we
entered a chamber that was more lofty and
more beautiful than any we had yet seen.
Balser at once turned his face to the ceil-
ing and made his adjuration to Wyandotte
Wyolyo, " Gold, gold, gold ! "
I again felt like laughing, but I didn't laugh,
for to my surprise there came a reverberating
answer, loud at first, but diminishing to a
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 337
ghostly whisper: "GOLD, gold, gold, gold,
g-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-old ! "
"An echo," said I, awed by the wonderful
response.
" Yes, that's what Wyandotte meant," an-
swered Balser. " Now, if we don't fall dead
from excitement, we'll have that treasure
pretty soon."
We lighted our candles, placing them
about at points best suited to illuminate
the chamber, and, with lanterns in hand, pro-
ceeded to search the wonderful place. I had
taken a shovel in with me, and Balser had
carried a pick, so we were prepared to com-
mence digging as soon as we found a soft
spot in the rock. But the floor was of solid
stone, and in ten minutes we were convinced
that the treasure could not be buried in the
cave of the echo.
Our excitement, of course, was great. Our
nerves were wrought to the highest pitch.
The cave was cool, but we had discarded our
coats and were perspiring like wheat-binders
in July. We went over and over every square
foot of the place, and were almost wild with
despair. When we heard the echo, we felt
that the treasure was surely ours, and to come
338 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
down from the glittering heights of expec-
tancy to the black depths of disappointment
was like falling from heaven to the other
place.
I thought Balser was going to cry, so I
took him by the arm and led him to the foot
of a great white column that stood in the
centre of the chamber. Being very tired, we
sat down upon a rock that jutted out from
the base of the column. After we had been
sitting there a few minutes, I happened to
glance up, and noticed that pieces of the
crystal rock, similar to the one on which we
were sitting, projected from the main stem
at intervals of two or three feet, almost to
the top. I remarked carelessly to Balser :
" One might climb to the top of this
column."
I had hardly uttered the words when
Balser exclaimed : " On top of a devil's
head ! "
He at once began to climb, and I, grasping
his thought, instantly followed him with the
nimbleness of a mountain goat. We each
reached the top of the column at almost the
same instant, and I nearly fell to the rock
floor, twenty feet beneath us, for there on the
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 339
top of the beautiful white " devil," were five
iron-bound chests.
Gold, gold, gold, at last ! " cried Balser.
" LAST, last, last, la-a-a-a-a-ast "
answered the god, Wyandotte Wyolyo.
The refrain was uncanny and almost froze
my blood. The awful word " last " seemed
to tell me that it was the last of Balser and
me, and my heart almost grew cold with fear
at the thought that we might never get out
of the cave alive, and that this marvellous
chamber would be our " last, last, last " rest-
ing place.
I was nearly ready to faint, but Balser's
excitement gave him strength, and I borrowed
a little from him for the time being. We
feasted our eyes on the five chests until we
were full of them, and then we took them
down the column, one by one.
We were greatly disappointed in the size
of the chests, for they were not more than
seven or eight inches square, by three or
four inches deep, and we could see that the
boards composing them were quite thick.
I don't know how large we expected the
chests to be. To tell the truth, we had no
idea how much space a thousand dollars in
340 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
gold would occupy, but these chests were
so small that we feared they could not, all
together, contain the half of a thousand
dollars.
Though we were sadly disappointed in the
size of the chests, we lost no time in opening
them with our pick, and I shall never forget
the sight that greeted our eyes. Never be-
fore nor since has gold looked so beautiful.
There it lay in a great pile of beautiful double
eagles. We opened all the chests and poured
the gold out on the stone floor of the cavern,
where we counted six hundred pieces of
twenty dollars each.
Balser left me with the gold and went to
fetch sacks in which to carry it. He took up
the twine string, allowing it to slip through
his fingers in guiding him to the mouth of
the cave. He was gone a long time ; at least
it seemed long to me, for I was very lonesome
waiting in the cave, and dreaded crawling
back through " worm alley," as we called the
narrow tunnel.
When Balser returned we divided the gold
into equal parts, put it in the sacks, and, leav-
ing the empty chests behind us, started for
the mouth of the cave.
WB < ' Mil' MX HUNDRED PIECES Of TWENTY DOLLARS BACH'
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 341
We met with no adventure worth mention-
ing on our return trip to Blue River.
I reached home just after supper time one
evening, hurriedly put up my horse, slipped
into the house without giving warning of
my approach, and entered the sitting room
carrying my precious sack which weighed
about thirty pounds over my shoulder.
My mother and my sisters ran to greet me,
and after kissing them, I walked over to father,
who was sitting by the fire. I shook hands
with him and put the sack down on the floor
beside him, saying kind o' careless like :
" There's a present for you, father ;" and he
said kind o' careless like :
" What is it, son ? "
"Oh, nothing much," said I; "just gold."
Well, you should have seen father and
mother and my sisters pounce on that sack
and pour the yellow fellows out on the table.
The girls asked twenty questions at once,
but I said: " I'll tell you the whole story
after I have had some supper. I'm hungry
as a bear."
I looked about the room. There were my
three sisters, Nan, Betty, and Sue, my father
and my mother
342 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
" Where where is is Mab ? " I asked.
Then mother and the girls covered their faces
with their aprons and began to cry. Pres-
ently father rose from his chair, came to me,
placed his hand lovingly on my shoulder, and
said, in a low, trembling voice :
" They have taken her from us, son. I
fought them in the courts until I could fight
no more ; but the law had its way, and they
took her from us."
######
Well, the gold turned to ashes for me then
and there, and gold has been ashes for me
ever since.
Five years afterward we got a letter from
Mab telling us that she had been forced to
marry a man chosen by her people to be her
husband, and that she was very unhappy.
Soon after receiving the letter, mother died,
and father did not long survive her. Sue
and Betty got married, and Nan and I lived
together in the old house.
Seven or eight years after receiving Mab's
letter, a carriage from the town of Blue River
stopped in front of our door, and out stepped
Mab with a baby girl. Maybe she wasn't
welcome ! Ah, what a glad day that was !
UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL 343
" I have run away from them all," said Mab.
" They are hard, cruel people, and my hus-
band was the worst of all. I could not endure
life with him one day longer, so I took little
Mab and ran away from him, and have come
back to you, Tom Andy Bill, for protection."
" Well, I reckon you've come to the right
place," said I.
They tried to make her leave us again, but
I kept a dozen rifles loaded, and notified
her people that there would be a series of
funerals if any of them placed foot on my
farm.
Mab lived with Nan and me three years,
and died, leaving us little four-year-old Mab.
Her father tried to take her from us, but I
lawed him till she was eighteen years old.
Then she got married and lived in the old
house for many years after we moved into the
new one. But she and her husband died, as
you all know, not long since, and they left to
me to me
At that point the old man stopped speak-
ing, placed his hand on Mab's curls, and after
a long pause, continued :
" I reckon my title to her is good. I'll kill
344 UNCLE TOM ANDY BILL
any man that says it isn't." So he took
Baby Mab in his arms and pressed her
to his breast.
Then we rose and left Uncle Tom Andy
Bill alone with his great sorrow, and his
greater joy, for we knew that the story was
told.
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St. Maur The Earth's Bounty. By Kate V. St. Maur.
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Weyl The New Democracy. By Walter E. Weyl.
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