The Boy Hunters of Kentucky

"You wrestle, you two!" said he. "One throw other, him have gun."

The meaning of this was clear enough: the ownership of the gun was to be decided by a wrestling bout between Jack Gedney and the young Wyandot.

The heart of the white youth gave a quick throb of delight, for there was no boy in the settlement within two years of his age whom he could not easily master in such a contest. He had thrown Will Burton, taller and older than he, with as much ease as he had every lad anywhere near his age.

The lads, having been told to begin, lost no time in doing so. It was fortunate for Jack that his opponent proved to be left-handed, since that gave Jack the hold which he wished. With their arms encircling each other, and the hands clasped in front, their heads bent slightly forward, so that they could watch each other's feet, the struggle began.

At this juncture the question came to Jack Gedney-

"If I do throw this fellow and win, will the chief keep his promise?"

It must be confessed that there was little reason to believe that Hua-awa-oma (He who fights without falling) would show the least regard for his pledge. This, however, did not weaken the arm of Jack Gedney, who, bending his body slightly forward and downward, suddenly caught his opponent on his hip and flung him on his back before the fellow could prevent it. Jack fell so heavily across him that he almost forced the breath from his body.

But Arowaka was on his feet scarcely a second behind Jack, who was given no time to see how the chief took it, when he found both shoulders seized by his opponent.

Jack was quick to do the same, so that the two contestants faced each other. The young Wyandot took a lesson from his fall, and he was so guarded that he defeated several efforts to catch him unawares.

All at once, like a flash, Jack, tightly grasping the arms of Arowaka, dropped his own shoulders, kicked the feet of the other from beneath him, and, with the most powerful effort he could put forth, lifted the Wyandot clear from the ground.

Finding himself going, Arowaka struggled desperately, his feet beating the air like frantic drumsticks, but he could not save himself. The next instant he shot over Jack's head as if fired from a gun, and struck the ground with a shock that seemed violent enough to break his neck.

CHAPTER VII.

JACK RESUMES HIS JOURNEY

No one could have won the wrestling bout more fairly than did Jack Gedney, who, having thrown the young Wyandot by the usual side hold, had now tossed him over his head with such violence that the youthful redskin must have made a big dent in the earth where his crown struck it.

The victor was startled for a moment by the fear that he had seriously injured his opponent, and, running forward, he stooped over him.

"Is Arowaka hurt? I am sorry," he said, kindly. "I did not really mean to do it."

But the latter was on his feet like a flash, thus proving the toughness of his race. He was so angered that his small black eyes flashed fire. No doubt he ranked as a skilful wrestler among his own people, and he was chagrined beyond bearing by his defeat.

Grasping the handle of his knife, he drew it forth with the intention of rushing upon Jack; but before he could do so the chieftain, Hua-awa-oma, took part in the proceedings.

You know that the American Indians show little indulgence to their children, whom they rear much as wild animals rear their young. They are made to suffer hardships while infants that would prove fatal to you or me when double their age. The doctrine of forbearance, kindness, and patience, is unknown among those peculiar people.

The chief had watched the contest between his heir and the white boy, who was not as tall by several inches as the other. He had seen Arowaka beaten as if he were a child in the grasp of a giant. The chief was furious. Arowaka was in the very act of drawing his knife when his father seized one of his arms, and began belabouring him with his long bow, which he had caught up with the other hand.

Jack Gedney was so amazed for a few seconds that he could only stare in silence. Then he was pleased, for the son deserved his punishment, not because he was overthrown, but because he drew his knife upon the one who had fairly conquered him. In the midst of the odd scene Jack Gedney awoke to the fact that his darling rifle was leaning against the very tree where he first placed it for Arowaka to view. The chief and his son were closer to it than Jack, and the latter dared not make a rush to recover it while the Indian was in such a furious mood, but he stealthily edged that way, in the hope of getting near enough to seize it before the Wyandot could prevent him.

But Jack was disappointed. Such a severe punishment as the chieftain gave to his son could not, in the nature of things, last long. Probably a score of blows descended on the back and limbs of Arowaka when they ceased. The chief gave the youth an angry shove, as though he was ashamed of him, and then, turning about, he took a few quick paces and snatched up the gun.

As he seized the weapon, the Wyandot, without glancing at his disgraced son, who stood sullenly apart, looking askance at the scene, walked straight to Jack and handed it to him.

"Take him-brave boy-make great warrior-Hua-awa-oma love Jack."

Doubting the earnestness of the chief, the youth reached out his hand, expecting the weapon to be withdrawn as before; but it was not; and a thrill of delight passed through the lad when he felt that his rifle was once more in his own possession.

"Huo-awa-oma, I thank you; you speak with a single tongue; you are a brave warrior; you have spoken truth; we are friends for ever."

The Wyandot made no response to this, but turning his back alike on white and red boy, he strode angrily off in the woods, taking a direction that led him towards the clearing where stood the cabin in which Jack Gedney was born.

Hua-awa-oma had gone only a couple of rods when his son followed him. He did not speak, but as he moved away he turned his head for an instant and glanced at Jack.

What that look meant was beyond the power of the boy to guess, but he believed it was a threat-a warning that he had not yet finished with him.

However, Jack was not alarmed by the fierce glance of the dusky youth. He was so delighted over the restoration of his rifle that for a few minutes he could think of nothing else.

Making his way back to the trail, he resumed his walk towards the home of the Burton boys, who he knew were already impatient over his delay.

"It's very strange," he said, recalling the incidents that have just been described; "I don't believe that one Indian in a thousand would have kept his word like Hua-awa-oma. Having got hold of my gun, he would not have let go; but I suspect, after all, the chief is not such an honourable fellow as he seems to be from his actions. If Arowaka had made a better fight, even though I beat him, his father would have let him have the gun; but I threw him so easily that the chief was maddened, and he gave the gun back to me more because he was angry with his son than because of his promise to me."

I must say that this conclusion of Jack Gedney was worthy of one much older than he. You may think he showed an amazing amount of wisdom for a lad so young, but bear in mind that he was not only a bright boy, but he had the training that gave him a knowledge of the woods often denied to those of his years.

The presence of the two Indians in this neighbourhood could not fail to set Jack to thinking what it meant. The Wyandots were among those who had fought the white settlers with intense fierceness. Some of their leaders were the most daring and skilful of the combined tribes, and the warriors were as brave and treacherous as the Apaches of the present time.

The natural question that Jack asked himself was as to the meaning of the presence of this chief and his son so near to the settlement and the few scattered cabins of that section. One alarming fact could not be lost sight of: during the past summer and early autumn the Indians had been unusually hostile.

Some weeks before, Mr. Gedney was on the point of moving with his family to the settlement until the trouble should pass; but he disliked leaving the cabin and all the gains he had made since coming to the West. About that time, however, came news that drove away his fears, and he decided to stay, at least until more alarming tidings should reach him.

The thought that naturally came to Jack was that a chief generally had a number of warriors within call, and since they were Wyandots they were hostile to the whites, who were trying to take their hunting-grounds away from them. The chief himself had shown a friendship towards Jack which he might extend to his relatives, but of course that was mere guesswork.

While the boy found plenty of cause for serious thought, he took comfort in his faith in the bravery and address of his father. He had been through some of the most thrilling scenes on the frontier, and in all he had carried himself so as to win the praise of every one.

So it was natural, as you will see, that, though Jack was disturbed by his fears, he was able to find relief in his faith in his father.

"He knows all about Indians," said the youth to himself; "if they mean anything wrong, he will find it out; they will never be able to catch him asleep."

And with this conclusion the boy walked more briskly than before along the trail over which he had journeyed so many times.

CHAPTER VIII.

TRAVELLING SOUTHWARD

All of Jack Gedney's doubts and misgivings left him for the time when he caught sight of the cabin of Mr. Burton. The moment he stepped into the clearing, where he could be seen, he was greeted by shouts from Will and George.

"We've been waiting more than a half-hour for you," called out the elder; "what kept you?"

"I didn't start quite as early as I wanted to, and I was stopped on the way by a couple of Indians."

Mr. Burton and his wife and daughter, who were within the cabin, came to the door when they heard this remark, for it was one in which it was natural that all should feel interest.

Jack followed the other boys into the house, where all sat down, and the visitor gave an account of his wrestling bout with the young Wyandot. When he came to relate how he sent the youth flying over his head, with his legs outspread like those of a frog, and of the trouncing the parent added to his defeat, every one of the listeners, including Mrs. Burton, laughed right merrily.

"It was bad enough to be tossed about in that fashion," said Mr. Burton, "but it was rough on the poor fellow to receive a whipping on that account."

"I would have given a good deal to see it," said Will who had been thrown more than once by the doughty Jack. "I can imagine how he felt when he went flying over your head, for I've been there myself."