The Frontier Angel: A Romance of Kentucky Rangers' Life

"Shan't I stoop down, too?"

"Ef you're afraid."

"I ain't afraid at all, only – O Lord, I'm shot!" suddenly exclaimed Jenkins, falling down and moaning as if in his death struggle. Dingle was

"Get up, you fool," he commanded, giving his moaning companion a kick, and now thoroughly provoked at the cowardice he had shown. "Get up, I tell you; you ain't hit, but it's a pity you wasn't. Nobody has fired at you, or tried to hit you."

"Didn't they? Come to think, I believe they didn't; but the fact is, Dingle, I've been subject to fits ever since I was a boy – darnation! do you mean to say I fell on purpose?" demanded Jenkins, suddenly regaining his upright position and his courage at the same time, at finding that he was unharmed.

"No; but it's kinder queerish the way you fell."

"Yes, them plaguy falling fits take me any time – "

"Never mind about the fits, or I'll give you some more. You stay hyer and keep watch while I go down to the gate."

"What – what you going to do there?"

"There's somebody as wants to see me."

"You won't be gone long, will you? Who is it?"

"The one that fired that arrow up there at you."

"O Jerusalem! and so they shot at me after all. I knowed so."

"Wal, keep that jaw of your'n still, or you'll git shot at agin; and, if you do, you won't be missed either. I'll be back pretty soon."

With these words Dingle descended and made his way to the gate at the palisades, to receive the message of the Frontier Angel.

CHAPTER VI.

THE FRONTIER ANGEL – THE SHAWNEES

The person referred to in the preceding chapter as the Frontier Angel, had received that appellation from the scouts and rangers who had known her for several years. We say had known her, but beyond the mere fact of her existence, nothing was known. Who she was or where she had come from was a mystery to all. She was ever painted and dressed in the fantastic costume of an Indian, but many supposed her to be a white person, and gave as a reason that her language was precisely the same as that used by themselves. She discarded entirely the extravagant, high-flown figures so much in vogue among the North American Indians, and which often renders their meaning unintelligible to ordinary persons. She was always alone, and rarely if ever seen in the daytime. The whole object of her life seemed to be that of befriending the settlers. More than once her timely warning had saved scores of whites from the fury of the savages. Sometimes she would make her appearance among the settlements in the Sciota Valley, and after giving full intelligence of the movements of their enemies, would take her departure; and the next that would be heard of her, would be that she had performed a similar office for the villages further east. She became known to all the rangers, nearly all of whom regarded her not as either a white person or an Indian, but as a spirit – an angel; and it was thus that she had gained the name that we have mentioned. These hardy, but superstitious beings, reverenced her as something far above them, whose touch would be instant death. Lewis Whetzel, the most famous of the four celebrated brothers, was the one who, to his dying day, carried out the very letter of the vow he had made, never to let any treaty, flag of truce, or any imaginable pretense, screen an Indian from his vengeance. This terrible resolution he had made for the inhuman butchery of his parents when a mere boy by the savages. The case is familiar to all, of his having associated with Veach Dickerson, and killed an Indian in the face of the proclamation issued by General Harmar, that all hostilities should cease for a few days in order to negotiate with them. The reward offered by Harmar for his apprehension, his capture, and subsequent escape to the woods again, could not induce him to abate one tittle of his unceasing hostility. It is said that this terrible Lew Whetzel once encountered the Frontier Angel in the forest, and, for the first and only time in his life, broke his vow. In relating the incident afterward, he said that he felt as if he raised his rifle, one look from her eyes would have struck him dead.

It was thus that the mysterious Frontier Angel was regarded by those who held communication with her; it was no wonder that Dingle felt some trepidation, and he hastened down, unbarred the massive gate, and saw her standing beside him.

"What news have you to-night?" he asked.

"I have much news; but why have you remained at home so long?"

"I've no reason, I s'pose."

"Then hasten to the woods again, for there is much for you to see."

"Won't you tell me the fuss?"

"I know not it all, but the Shawnees and Wyandots are making great preparations for taking the war-path."

"Is their idee to come hyerabouts?"

"I cannot tell; it may be, and it may be not."

"Whar' am they kickin' up this muss?"

"At Piqua."

"Yas; wal, I'll pay them a visit. Anything more?"

"That is all. I will now depart."

Dingle unbarred the gate, allowed her to pass out, and after securing it, made his way back to the block-house again. As he passed out on the platform, Jenkins demanded:

"Who is that you was talking with?"

"A gal that comes down to see me once in a while."

"An Injin?"

"A half-breed – splendid critter."

"Jerusalem! she looked purty. What in the name of all that's human made she shoot that arrer at me?"

"To kill yer, in course."

"To kill me! What did she want to kill me for? I'm sure I never done her any harm."

"She thought you'd jist come out to show yerself and try and cut me out. It made her all-fired mad."

"Did you tell her about it."

"Yas; but I can't tell you what she said. I'm goin' in to sleep now. Don't whistle so loud, nor slap your hoofs down so, nor git to talkin' how mean Dick Dingle is, or he might come out and make you shut up."

With these words, the ranger opened the door of the block-house and entered, leaving Jenkins completely dumbfounded at what he had said.

"By George! how did he know what I said? I'll bet that infernal Injin gal is down there yet, and waiting for a chance to shoot. I'll kill her, if she tries it, just as sure as I live. She'll wish she never knowed anything of Pete Jenkins."

But no attempt was made upon the sentinel's life, and when the morning dawned, the forest and river wore their usual appearance.

In the morning. Dingle imparted the message of the Frontier Angel to the commander of the post, and offered to visit the Piqua village and ascertain the meaning of their movements.

"If she says there is mischief afoot, you may depend that there is. Yes, Dingle, you had better go. Take who you please, find out what you can, and get back as soon as possible."

The visit of this strange being was only a night or two after the interview between Abbot and Peterson, so that the latter had not yet started upon his hunt after the renegade McGable. Upon consulting with Dingle, it was argued between them that, as there was no need of hurrying in such a matter, they would defer their expedition until after their return from Piqua. The safety of the settlement was paramount to all other considerations. Besides, it was very probable that the renegade was in the village named, and they were just as likely to accomplish the object of both their journeys at the same time. The two rangers held a long consultation, and the conclusion they came to took all by surprise. It was that Peterson should visit the Shawnee town in Paint Creek valley, while Dingle, in company with the redoubtable Jenkins, would reconnoiter Piqua. There was wisdom in this plan certainly, but many thought it singular that the two should separate, when they had never been known to do such a thing before when in service.

The Shawnees were the great enemy of the whites, and to them may be traced nearly all of the long and bloody wars on the frontier. They were a vindictive, revengeful, "restless people, delighting in wars." Their very name, as has been remarked, was a word of terror or of execration to the early settlers among the canebrakes of Kentucky or upon the rich bottoms of Ohio.

When this country was discovered, the Shawnees occupied the southern part of Georgia and Florida. Here they, at last, became so obnoxious to the other Indians by their continual murders and robberies, that a combination of the most powerful tribes – the Choctaws, Cherokees, and Creeks, was effected, and perpetual, unceasing war was declared against them. Finding the country too hot to hold them, the Shawnees emigrated north, settling on the Ohio and its tributaries. The Wyandots welcomed them, and they increased to a mighty and powerful nation, retaining their characteristic traits. From the commencement of the old French war, in 1755, down to the final struggle between Tecumseh and the whites, nearly sixty years after, they were continually engaged in some murderous foray, interrupted only by a dozen years of quiet, succeeding the treaty of Wayne.