The night passed without incident other than a thunderstorm. Daniel was surprised next morning to find that he had slept well. This cheered him immensely, and he was whistling merrily when he and Amos rounded up their string of horses in the woods. For the first time, he forgot to think about the Indians.
“Pa says we’re goin’ to stop by home for a look-in,” Amos said. He, too, was feeling cheerful at the prospect of seeing his mother and brothers and sisters again.
“Now?” Daniel asked. “Afore we git to Cincinnati?”
“That’s right. It’ll be right nice to have a bite of Ma’s cookin’, too.”
“Might be she won’t have time to make anythin’,” Daniel said cautiously, “if she’s not expectin’ us.”
“But she is!” Amos said. “Pa says he told her he’d stop by and pick up Polly to take along to the town. She’s to visit Aunt Lydia till we come back, and buy some things Ma wants in the stores.”
This was the first Daniel had heard of it. He was happy to think he would see more of the Gregg family, and especially Polly who had been so kind to him. But he was shy, too. Shyer than he would have been if he had not felt so grateful to all of them for their kindness to him.
They paused briefly at Fort Hamilton on their way, so as not to lose any time, for it would be a long trip this day. Almost at once, Daniel was aware of a different air about the fort. The men wore gloomy faces, and there was more than one who had a hangdog look about him. They came out to greet the pack-horse train, but Daniel noticed that none of them ventured very far from the fort.
“You heard the news?” one of them asked Josiah.
“About the express? Yes, we heard it.”
“Terrible thing, wasn’t it? He must ha’ been kilt right after he left here. Hardly got across the river, they say. Goes to show they’re all about us.”
“Who are?” Josiah’s voice held a stern note.
“The Indians! Why, I haven’t slept a wink since. Got a family livin’ here outside the fort, but if those varmints can sneak down on folks that quick and that quiet, they’d never have a chance to make it to the gate in time. I’d lose my cow, too, I reckon.”
Josiah said heartily, “I’ve a family of my own, livin’ a few miles south of here. They have no fort nearby to run to. But I don’t worry about them—too much. That’s one of the things we took on when we moved out here—the chance of Indians, just like there’s the chance of a drought, or a flood. You have to wait till it comes, and then fight it. Worryin’ about it ahead of time don’t get you nowheres.”
Mr. Gregg was right, of course. Daniel knew that, but he knew, too, that it wasn’t as easy as it sounded to look at things the way Mr. Gregg did. Still, it was comforting to be with someone who felt that way. Some of his confidence was bound to rub off onto you.
They pushed on to the Greggs’ homestead clearing, and this time Daniel was able to see the place in the full morning light. The dogs heard them when they were still far down the rutted lane, and ran barking and leaping to greet their master. The twins came pelting after them, and Josiah caught them both, one in each powerful arm, and lifted them up in greeting.
By the time they reached the house, Mrs. Gregg was standing smiling in the doorway, holding little Sabrina, and Polly stood by her side, the sun’s rays caught in her tawny hair.
At first she tried to be dignified, as befitted a young lady, but she was unable to restrain herself, and rushed to her father with a squeal of pleasure. He swung her high, too, her braids flying in an arc. “Ready to come with us?” he boomed. “We’ve not long to stay. We couldn’t make it to Fort Hamilton last night, so we’re late today.”
His eyes sought his wife’s questioning ones, and he said, more soberly, “Two of the horses went lame, and I’m leavin’ them here. Then, when we heard there’d been a scalpin’ near the fort, we thought it wiser to make camp than to travel in the dark.”
His words had added meaning. He said, after a brief pause, “I thought I might leave Henry here with you and the childern. I’ll pick him up on my next trip. That is, if Henry’s willin’.”
“Glad to stay,” Henry said. “Maybe I’ll get a bit of reading done, if Mrs. Gregg doesn’t wear me out with chores!” He laughed as he spoke, and Josiah and his wife laughed, too. It was clear that Henry was an old friend of the family and would be welcome.
“I’m ready, Pa,” Polly said. She spoke breathlessly, and Daniel could see that she was excited, for her color was deep under her freckles. “I’ve got my bundle ready, and Ma has told me over and over what she wants, and what I’m to tell Aunt Lydia.”
Mrs. Gregg insisted that they take along some corn dodger she had baked the day before, and gave them each a generous slab of her homemade cheese. Polly was mounted on one of the ponies atop a pad of blankets, a small bundle clutched in one hand. A venison ham, a bunch of dried herbs, and a large cheese, all destined for Aunt Lydia, were tied to the packsaddle of one of the ponies. The children waved and shouted as long as the pack-horse train was in sight.
There was not much chance to talk on the way to Cincinnati. Because they had farther to go than usual, they saved their breath for the trip. Once Polly, who was riding with Amos’ string, called out to her brother, “Did you get to see Gen’l Wayne this trip?”
Amos answered, “Tell you all about it when we stop to eat.”
But there was no chance to tell much when they did stop, for the horses had to be allowed to graze, and there was only time for a few hasty bites of the corn dodger and cheese before Josiah gave the signal to go on again.
Polly’s eyes were wide at the amount of traffic on the road, and once she commented on it. “Seems like we’re meetin’ a lot of people,” she said. “Must be half of Cincinnati on the road today, and all runnin’ supply trains.”
Daniel was near her when she spoke, and he laughed. “The nearer we get to town, the more we meet,” he agreed. “But some of the supplies get left at Fort Hamilton, and still more at St. Clair. By the time you get to the road between St. Clair and Jefferson, there’s big lonely stretches where you don’t meet nobody.”
She accepted his explanation, but shook her head. “Still, it hardly looks like there’ll be anybody left in Cincinnati.”
“It’s gettin’ to be a big place. Your pa says there’s more than six hunnerd people livin’ there. That’s pretty big. Gettin’ bigger all the time, too, with folks comin’ from the east in a steady stream.”
“It’s a city!” Polly cried. “I don’t think I’d like to live in a place as crowded as that, do you?”
Daniel hesitated. There would be safety in a crowd, wouldn’t there? Polly seemed to read his mind, and said quickly, “Look at what happened last year when there was smallpox rampagin’ all around. They say Cincinnati lost a third of its folks!” She added slyly, “That’s more’n the Indians ever kilt off. And it was so quick, too.”
Daniel pondered her words for a long time. He had not thought about it in quite that way, but it was true that if you looked at it like this, smallpox was more to be feared than the Indians. Yet he was not afraid of smallpox, and never had been. Perhaps because he had never lived in a family where it struck.
That thought brought another to the forefront of his mind. Suppose he had lived unscathed through a smallpox epidemic, would he have been as terrified of the disease ever afterward as he was now of the Indians? In other words, was he a coward who would always be smitten with fear of whatever danger had menaced him in the past? He did not think so, yet how could he be sure?
When they reached Cincinnati, their first duty was to get the animals to the spot where they usually camped, to remove the packsaddles, and feed the horses. Josiah went at once, although it was late in the afternoon, to see about the next consignment he was to carry to Greeneville, and delegated Amos and Daniel to accompany Polly to her Aunt Lydia’s.
Aunt Lydia lived in a small frame house, which impressed Daniel mightily for it was usually only the wealthy who could afford frame rather than log construction for their homes. She was married to a man named Peter Torrence; he was a trader and had gone with some flatboats to New Orleans, so that, for the present, she was alone.
“Hasn’t she any children?” Daniel asked, not sure whether he should inquire into something so personal, yet anxious to know.
“They all died,” Amos said in a matter-of-fact way. “Some from the ague, and two from the smallpox last year. She’s not like Ma at all, though she’s her sister. She’s tall and thin, and she’s got a right tart tongue at times.”
“Well, she’s had troubles to try her,” Polly said. “Might be you’d have a tart tongue, too, if you’d been through what she has!”
Daniel hung back while Polly and her brother were greeted by their aunt, but then Polly called to him, and he brought the gifts of food which Mrs. Gregg had sent her sister.
“This is Dan’l,” Polly said, taking his hand with a proprietary air. “He’s workin’ for Pa right now, but when the Indians have been beat, he’s goin’ to live with us.”
Daniel flushed with pleasure. “It’s right kind of you and Amos to say that,” he said hurriedly, “but your ma and pa might feel different about it.”
Polly looked indignant. “Why would they? You haven’t any folks, and we’ve plenty of room. You’d be workin’ for Pa, same as you are now, only it’d be work on the farm, that’s all.”
Aunt Lydia turned a piercing gaze upon him. “He’s not as strong-lookin’ as you, Amos,” she said.
“He’s not as old as I am, neither,” Amos said casually. “He’ll fill out with Ma’s cookin’ in a couple years. He’s strong enough for his age and size.”
Daniel backed away then, to stand with the horse’s reins in his hand, and in a short while Amos joined him. “They’re goin’ to the stores in the mornin’,” he said. “Polly says Ma has a list a mile long of things she needs. Haven’t seen so many traders out our way these days. Guess they’re scairt of the Indians.”
They went back to the encampment by way of Front Street—the street that ran above the river. Here most of the stores and taverns were clustered. A burst of raucous song came from one of the taverns as they paused, and a heavy figure lurched out. Amos drew Daniel to a stop.
“Timothy,” he said in disgust. “Spendin’ his money already. Pa pays him plenty, but he won’t have a penny left by tomorrow, and what’ll he do then? Pa says he’s not goin’ to hire him again. He’s lazy, and careless, and don’t care how many lies he tells.”
Daniel was relieved. He had never liked the man, and ever since he had watched that strange meeting in the woods at night, he had wondered about him. Could he be a spy for the British? On impulse, he told the story to Amos. But Amos, like his father, looked doubtful.
“You think he sold his hosses to somebody—British or Indian, it don’t matter—that night? And then let ‘em loose the next day?” He shook his head. “Why’d he damage ‘em then before-hand? It don’t make sense.”
Daniel said eagerly, “Mebbe that was just his usual carelessness. Mebbe he didn’t want ‘em sore—they just got that way because he didn’t load ‘em right. Or mebbe he hurt ‘em a-purpose so’s he wouldn’t be suspected. So folks’d think just what you’re thinkin’ now.”
Amos still shook his head. “Well, they’re gone, and Pa took a real loss on ‘em. But I still don’t think....How’d they know where he was a-goin’ to cut ‘em loose, if what you think is true? Tell me that!”
Daniel said, with a shudder, “If they was Indians, they could have followed alongside of us in the woods, and we wouldn’t have seen ‘em. Then, as soon as the hosses were cut loose—and I’d swear that rope had been cut, Amos—they were run off and hid from us.”
“The ropes on the two we caught could ha’ been broken, not cut,” Amos said.
Amos was still doubtful, Daniel could see, and he began to wonder if he was unduly suspicious, or whether Amos and his father were too trusting. When they got to their camp, Simon was nowhere to be seen, and Ben was waiting for them impatiently.
“Here, you lads, take care of the hosses. Your pa needs me, Amos, and I’ve got to git along. Dan’l, Mr. Gregg says you’re to have a reg’lar string of your own next trip—you did so well helpin’ Amos this time, he says he feels he can trust you with a small one. He’s out buyin’ ponies right now. Saddles, too, if he can git ‘em.”
Daniel’s chest felt tight with emotion. This was something he had not expected. To think that Mr. Gregg thought so highly of him! He could not even stammer his appreciation, for his throat had closed up. But Amos clapped him on the back and said, “There, now! You’re as good as a man, see?”
Daniel blinked back sudden tears and said, “I’ll work hard. See if I don’t! Your pa won’t be sorry, Amos.”
They spent the whole next day in Cincinnati and since Simon, poorer and soberer than he had been the day before, had no more money to spend, he was left with the horses while Amos and Daniel saw the town. Daniel, of course, had no gun, and it was his ambition to own one, so first they looked at guns. There were muskets and rifles. Daniel gazed longingly at a slim, long-barrelled rifle with a fine walnut stock, but did not even dare to ask the price. He knew it would be a long time before he could afford a gun like that.
Next, they went to get new moccasins. The footgear they had worn on the march was worn thin and would not last for many more miles of such rough wear. After that, Amos said he was going to buy his mother a present—a loaf of sugar.
Daniel was aghast at the thought of such extravagance. “You’ve got maple sweetenin’ at home,” he reminded Amos. “And the Worders used to boil down punkins for a kind of molasses. Loaf sugar’s only for rich folks.”
“Yes, but Ma said once she wished she had some. She said if she had, she’d make us some sweet cakes like she used to back in Pennsylvania. And I’d sure like to sink a tooth into some of those again!”
Daniel laughed. “So that’s the real reason!”
They went into the store of Findlay and Smith, and instantly Daniel was amazed. So many things for sale; so many unusual things. He wondered where there could be a market for all of them. There were kegs of wines and liquors, tobacco and “segars,” coffee, tea, and chocolate among the luxuries. There were bolts of nankeen and cambric and linen, hair ribbons and pomades, and blackball for polishing boots.
His head was whirling at the sight of all these things for sale, and he was just about to ask Amos who could be the buyers of such merchandise, when he heard Polly’s voice behind him. He turned around, and found she was half-hidden by her Aunt Lydia.
“I want some needles,” she was saying, “both heavy and fine.” She was clutching an iron kettle by the handle. It was new, and already held other purchases.
“Isn’t that heavy?” Daniel asked. He saw her head jerk back with surprise.
“I told you to set it on the floor, Polly,” Aunt Lydia said. “Ain’t nobody goin’ to steal it from you.”
Polly flushed a little and set the pot on the floor. When Amos later bought the sugar loaf for his mother, that went into the pot, too. There were all kinds of things in it but, as Daniel said with a laugh, “wouldn’t none of ‘em make a good stew.”
Polly carried the kettle when they left the shop. It was customary for a woman to carry her own bundles, and she felt she was nearly a woman, Daniel could see. She walked proudly beside her aunt, skirting mud puddles and scuffing through the dirt in her best, and only, pair of shoes. Amos and Daniel, staring at all the sights of the water front, soon dropped behind.
It was Aunt Lydia’s voice that brought them on the run. “Get away from me!” she was shouting. “You rude louts! Get away!”
Daniel, racing toward them, saw that a couple of rowdies had swaggered out of one of the taverns and were blocking Aunt Lydia’s and Polly’s path. When they moved to the right, the men followed suit. When they moved to the left, the men dodged over that way, too. As Daniel came near he heard one of them say, “What you got in that kettle? Somethin’ good? Somethin’ I’d like?” And with the words, he snatched the pot out of Polly’s hands and fled.
Polly, without a moment’s hesitation, ran after him, and so did her aunt. But the other ruffian successfully headed off Aunt Lydia, and the thief, with Polly at his heels, suddenly rounded on her and knocked her to the ground.
Anger made a red haze in front of Daniel’s eyes. The delay had been just long enough to allow him to catch up with them, and now he launched himself upon the man with such force that the two of them were borne to the ground. The kettle clattered as it fell and the numerous parcels flew out in all directions.
In the next few seconds of furious wrestling, Daniel remembered everything he had ever heard about the fighters on the Cincinnati water front—the tales of eye-gouging, nose-biting, ear-chewing, and bone-breaking all flashed before him and, in some miraculous fashion, he managed to keep out of his opponent’s grasp.
That time was all he needed, for Amos had reached him by then, and with two strong young lads upon him, both wildly furious, the man decided to turn tail and run. His companion went pounding after him.
Polly was already on her feet, her eyes blazing, a long smudge of dust along one cheek, and her dress dirty and rumpled. “The bully!” she cried. “Oh, I wish I could have been a man to give him what he deserved!” Then her eyes softened, and she smiled at them. “But it was the next best thing to watch how the two of you handled him!” She tossed her head proudly.
Aunt Lydia came up, chattering with rage, and darting right and left to retrieve the bundles that had been in the pot. Polly and the boys helped her, and soon they were on their way again. It had all happened so quickly that the few onlookers had had no time to intervene.
Walking back to Aunt Lydia’s house, Daniel knew a lightness of heart that had not been his for several years. It was almost like having a family of his own to be so close to Amos and Polly and all the other Greggs. Even Aunt Lydia looked handsomer and kindlier to him because she belonged to them.
Suddenly he wanted to burst into song, but did not dare. His voice was too much inclined these days to go from treble to bass without warning. And so he hummed a little instead, an old song his father had often sung.
“Feelin’ chipper, ain’t you?” Aunt Lydia said, but her sour tone was belied by her smile. “Well, day after tomorrow you head back into the Indian country again, so you might as well be cheerful now.”
But not even the mention of Indians could dampen Daniels spirits.