The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippi

"Is this really true, Sol?" exclaimed Paul, although he did not doubt.

"Gospel truth. We're jest ez well off ez we wuz afore we wuz captured. I don't think, either, them Spaniards will miss 'The Gall-yun' until mornin'. So we kin be up an' away with somethin' o' a start."

"Lead on, Sol," said Henry.

Sol led, and resumed the noiseless Indian file. They found the good ship, "The Galleon," under the overhanging bushes where Sol had left her, and rejoicingly they took possession again of the boat, their arms, and supplies.

"Now for New Orleans and the Governor General," said Paul, as they pushed out into the bayou. There was no current here, but their powerful arms at the oars soon sent the boat into the Mississippi. There they set the sail which had been left unchanged, and as a good wind caught it they went on at a quickening pace. Wind, current, and oars combined made the low banks pass swiftly by.

It was now the darkest hour and all things were veiled. Each felt a great satisfaction. They had the courage, after such a great and skillful escape, to attempt anything.

"It's only lately that I've been gittin' friendly with the Missip," said Shif'less Sol. "It's a pow'ful big river an' a new one, but me an' this river are already jest like brothers. It ought all to belong to us people o' Kentucky. When we git to be a great big settled country, hev we got to float everything down it, right in among the Spaniards or the French, an' they able to stop us ef they want to? 'Pears to me thar oughtn't to be anything but a string o' free countries all along the length o' this big river."

"I think that is what is likely to happen," said Paul looking into the future, as he did so often. "We'll always be pressing down, and we can't help it."

"Anyhow," resumed Shif'less Sol, "I'm glad that we've left that thar place o' Booly, or Bee-yu-ly, or whatever they call it. Funny these furrin' people can't pronounce names like they spell. Now we Americans, an' the English, who use our language, call words jest ez they are, but you never know what a Frenchman or a Spaniard is goin' to make out o' 'em."

They made good progress throughout the day, and saw no sign of the flotilla of Alvarez which they had feared might overtake them. They were agreed that it would be wise for them to reach New Orleans first, and hence they went boldly forward into the country that they regarded as that of the enemy, confident of their fortune.

The river widened and narrowed frequently, but always it was very deep. It was not beautiful here, but the vast current flowing between low shores had a somber majesty all its own. Its effect upon the imagination of every one of them was heightened by the knowledge that the stream had come an immeasurable distance, from unknown regions, and that in the coming it had gathered into itself innumerable other rivers, most of which also had come from lands of mystery.

They stopped one morning in the mouth of a clear creek that flowed into the Mississippi, and decided to spend the day in making repairs, a general cleaning-up, and a search for fresh food. It was the universal opinion that they would profit more by such a halt than by pushing on regardless of everything.

It was a beautiful spot in which they lay. They had gone about a hundred yards up the creek, and its waters here, about thirty feet across and five or six feet deep, were perfectly transparent. But this silver stream the moment it entered the Mississippi was lost in the great, brown current, swallowed up in an instant by the giant river.

The banks of the creek were low and on either side brilliant wild flowers grew to the very water's edge. Ferns, lilies, and other plants of deeper hues, were massed in great beds that ran from the creek edges back to the forest. Tall birds on immensely long and slender legs stood in the shallower water and now and then as quick as a flash of lightning darted down a hooked bill. Invariably the bill came up with a fish struggling in its grasp.

Beautiful flamingoes hovered about the bank and many birds of brilliant plumage darted from tree to tree. Few of these sang, except the mocking bird, which gave forth an incessant mellow note. But it was a scene of uncommon peace and beauty and all felt its influence.

Henry looked at the creek and the forest through which it came with an appreciative eye. He knew because the waters of the creek were clear that it must flow through hard, firm ground, and he was thinking at that moment of a plan which he intended to carry out later.

Their first work was with the boat. In its long voyage on the river it had gathered mud and other objects on its bottom. This they could see perfectly now that it lay in the clear water, and Shif'less Sol and Jim Hart volunteered to scrape it with two of the shovels that were contained in the invaluable store house of "The Galleon."

Their offer was accepted, and taking off their clothing, they sprang into the water. Once a huge cat fish from the Mississippi, unused to man, brushed against Long Jim's leg, its horn raking him slightly. With a shout Long Jim sprang almost out of the water and clambered up the side of the boat.

"Somethin' big bit me!" he cried. "It took one uv my legs with him!"

"It's only a scared cat fish and you still have two legs, Jim," replied Henry laughing boyishly, because a boy he was in spite of his size and experience.

Jim looked down, and a great smile of delight unfolded like a fan across his face from side to side.

"Guess you're right, Henry," he said, "an' I am still all in one piece."

He sprang back into the water, and he and Sol soon finished their task. After that it was arranged that Sol, Jim, and Tom should give a thorough furbishing to the boat's interior, wash and dry their spare clothing and bedding, while Henry and Paul went on a hunt for a deer to replenish their larder.

"You see, Paul," said Henry, "the waters of this creek are quite clear, which means that it comes through good, hard ground. It's likely that it isn't far back to one of the little prairies which I've heard are common in this part of Louisiana, and in a wild country like this where there's a prairie there's pretty likely to be deer."

The logic seemed good to Paul. At any rate he was willing enough to go on a hunt, stretch his legs, and see a new region. Saying that they should probably be gone all day they started at once, leaving the others absorbed in the task of housecleaning.

They reached solid ground not far from the creek's edge and walked along briskly, following the course of the stream back toward its source. The soil was black and deep and the forest magnificent. Great beeches and hickories were mingled with the willows and live oaks and cypresses, and the foliage was thick, green, and beautiful. The birds seemed innumerable, and now and then flocks of wild fowl rose with a whir from the creek's edge. Keen, penetrating odors of forest and wild flower came to their nostrils.

Both boys threw up their heads, inhaled the odors, and thrilled in every fiber. They were very young, care could never stay with them long and now they felt only the sheer, pure delight of living. They looked back. The forest had already shut out their boat, and one who did not know would not have dreamed that the longest river in the world was only a mile or two away. They were alone in the wilderness and they did not care. They were sufficient, for the moment, each to the other.

As they advanced, the creek narrowed and the forest thickened. The trees not only grew closer together, but there was a vast mass and network of trailing vines, extended from trunk to trunk and bough to bough. One huge oak in the very center of an intricate maze of vines was drawn far over and its boughs were twisted into strange, distorted shapes. It was obvious to both that the vines, singly so feeble, collectively so powerful, had done it, and they stood a moment or two wondering at this proof of the power of united and unceasing effort.

They went a mile or so further on, and Henry led the way toward the left and from the creek. An instinct or the lay of the land, perhaps, warned him that the open country was in that direction. The trees, had begun to thin already, and in another mile they came out upon a beautiful little rolling prairie. It was quite clear of trees; grass, mingled with wild flowers, grew high upon it, and at the far edge they saw the figures of animals grazing.

"Deer!" exclaimed Paul. "There they are, Henry! Just waiting for us!"

Henry took a long and keen look, then shook his head.

"No, not deer, Paul," he said. "Now guess what they are."

"They can't be buffaloes," replied Paul. "I think, Henry, I'm right; they're deer."

"No," said Henry, "they're horses."

"Horses! Why there are no plantations hereabouts!"

"Not tame horses. Wild horses. Descendants of the horses that the Spaniards brought to Mexico two or three hundreds ago."

"And which have been spreading northward ever since," continued Paul, alive with interest. "Let's try to get a near look at them, Henry."

"I'm with you," said Henry.

Full of boyish curiosity they went around the prairie, keeping in the edge of the woods until they came much nearer to the herd of wild horses, which numbered about thirty. As a considerable wind was blowing their odor away from the animals, they could approach very closely without their presence being suspected.

The horses were clean limbed and well-shaped, and all except one were small and dark of color. But that one was a noticeable exception. He was almost pure white, far larger than the others, and he had a great flowing white mane and tail.

The herd grazed in a bunch, but the magnificent white stallion stood apart on the side next to the woods. He, too, grazed at intervals, but most of the time he stood, head erect like a sentinel or rather a leader. It seemed to both the boys that his whole attitude was full of spirit and majesty, the vast freedom of the wilderness. He carried, too, the responsibility for the whole herd and he knew it.

"A prairie King," whispered Paul. "Wouldn't I like to catch such a splendid animal, Henry, and ride him into New Orleans!"

"No you wouldn't, Paul," replied Henry, "That stallion wasn't made to be ridden by anybody. Look. Paul, look!"

Henry's last word rose to an excited whisper, and Paul's gaze quickly followed his pointing finger. Even then he would not have seen anything had he not looked long and carefully. At last he made out a long, tawny shape on a low-lying bough of a tree at the very edge of the forest. The shape was flattened against the bough and almost blended with it.

"A panther!" whispered Paul.

Henry nodded. It was, in fact, a large specimen of the panther or southern cougar, and Henry whispered again:

"See what he is after!"

A small colt from the herd had wandered dangerously near to the forest and the bough on which the cougar lay, watching him with the yellow, famished eyes of the great, hungry cat.

"Shoot him, Henry! Shoot him!" whispered Paul. "You can reach him with a bullet from here. Don't let him kill the poor, little colt!"

"I'd do it if it were needed," replied Henry, "but I don't think it will be. See, Paul, the Prairie King suspects!"

The great white stallion raised his head a little higher. It may be that he caught a glimpse of the tawny form and yellow, hungry eyes amid the foliage of the bough, or it may be that a sudden flaw in the wind brought to his nostrils the pungent odor of the big cat. He reared and stamped, the startled colt turned away, and the cougar, afraid that he was about to lose his chance, sprang.

A yellow compact mass, bristling with sharp, white teeth and long, hooked claws shot through the air, but the distance was too great. The colt had turned just in time, and the cougar fell short. He gathered himself instantly for another spring, but quick as he was, he was not quick enough.

The boys heard a fierce neigh, and the great stallion, wild with rage, launched himself upon the cougar. Agile and powerful though the great cat was, the sharp hoofs trampled him down. Taken at a disadvantage, just at the moment when his first spring had spent itself, he was no match for the protector of the herd. No bone could resist the impact of those heavy terrible hoofs. No skull was thick enough to save. The cougar squealed, clawed, and bit wildly, but in an incredibly quick space he was trampled to death and lay quite still. The boys believed that every bone in him must have been broken.

The herd had run some distance away in fright at the cougar's leap, but while the swift combat lasted it stood looking on. Now the stallion, after a last look at the slain robber, turned and walked away in triumph to the herd that he had protected so well. It seemed to the glorified fancy of the boys that he held his head higher than ever, and that his great mane and tail flowed away in new ripples. He stalked proudly at the head of the herd down to the other side of the prairie, where they went placidly on with their grazing.

"That is certainly one thing that turned out right," said Paul in a gratified tone.

"The hoofs of a powerful and enraged wild stallion are a terrible thing," said Henry. "Even a deer, which is far smaller, can kill a man with its hoofs. But if you'll look again, Paul, you'll see that a new danger threatens our king of horses."

Paul followed Henry's gaze, and he distinctly saw two or three human figures at the edge of the wood. These figures were hidden from the horses by a swell of the prairies, and, as in the case of the cougar, the wind blew their odor away. "Indians?" asked Paul.

"I can't tell at this distance," replied Henry, "but it's more likely that they belong to the party of Alvarez, and perhaps they know that wild horses frequent this prairie and others hereabouts. See what they are doing!"

Paul saw well enough, One man carrying on his arm a coll of rope, the lariat of Mexico, lay down in the long grass which completely hid him, but both Henry and Paul knew that he was creeping forward inch by inch toward the beautiful stallion that was grazing not ten yards from the woods.

"When he comes close enough, if he can do so before the horse takes the alarm," said Henry, "he will throw the rope and catch the horse by the neck in the running noose at the end."

"But the horse will take alarm," said Paul hopefully.

"I don't know," said Henry. "He may think in his horse mind that one enemy in one day is as much as he has need to dread."

It seemed that Henry was right. Exultant in his victory over the cougar, the Prairie King had relaxed his vigilance. More often now his head was down, cropping the grass like the rest of the herd. Henry and Paul believed that they could see the grass rippling as the new and more cunning enemy crept forward. But it was only agile fancy—they were too far away.

"What ever happens it's bound to happen soon," said Henry.

Even as he spoke the man in the grass sprang to his feet, threw forth his right arm, and the rope shot out like a snake uncoiling itself as it sprang. Both Paul and Henry felt a pang when they saw the loop enclose the neck of the noble horse, while the man himself and his comrades uttered loud shouts of exultation.

"He has caught him!" exclaimed Paul sadly.

"Yes," said Henry, "and I'm sorry, but it was a wonderful feat of skill and patience!"

The frightened herd ran away, and the white stallion reared and struggled, his great eyes red and distended with rage and astonishment. Two men ran forward and seized the rope which their comrade had thrown so skillfully. Then the three pulled hard.

But the quarry was too magnificent. They had miscalculated the white stallion's strength. Caught by the neck, he dragged, nevertheless, all three over the prairie, and then, suddenly making a mighty lunge, tore the rope from their grasp, leaving them thrown headlong to the earth. Away he went, the long rope flying out behind him like a streamer.

Doubtless some failure of the noose to draw tightly around his neck had saved the horse, and this was proved when the rope catching in a bush slipped off over his head as he struggled again. Then the stallion, by chance, or because his horse's mind inclined him to it, uttered a long, shrill neigh of triumph, kicked his heels high in the air, and galloped away, his flowing tail streaming out behind him, a banner of triumph.

"He's won again," said Henry in a tone of gladness. "I told you that horse wasn't made ever to be ridden."

"But he has to struggle continually for life and freedom," said Paul.

"Just the same as we do," rejoined Henry. "See those fellows are picking themselves up; but they've been slow about it."

"I don't blame them. I fancy they suffered some pretty severe bruises when the horse jerked them down. Paul, I think I can make out two white faces in that party, which almost certainly means that they are the men of Alvarez. And it says to us that we ought to hurry."

"But not without our deer, I hope," said Paul. They gave one last look at the far edge of the prairie, where they could still dimly see the white stallion, now keeping well away from the woods.

"I don't think anything will get him," said Henry, "and I hope not. Just as we do, he loves to be free."

They, too, re-entered the woods and were fortunate enough to find a deer quickly. Henry was willing to risk the chance of the shot being heard by their enemies and his bullet brought it down. Then they cut up the body and took it back to the boat, where they told all that had occurred. The others agreed that if Alvarez and his men were in the vicinity they ought to leave at once, and, transferring the drying clothes from the bank to the boat, they entered the Mississippi once more and set sail down its stream.

CHAPTER XIV

NEW ORLEANS

They sailed and rowed steadily on for several days. Once or twice they saw canoes or boats containing white men, who regarded them curiously, but none approached. They inferred that they were now very near New Orleans, and all the five were alert with anticipation. Besides the accomplishment of their great task, they were about to visit a metropolis, a seat of government, a city of eight or ten thousand people, commanding the road to the heart of the North American continent, swarming with many races, and destined, as all the world then believed, to be the largest place in either America. It is no wonder that the bosoms of the five throbbed with curiosity, and that they looked forward to strange and varied sights.

"Now, Jim," said Shif'less Sol in a warning tone to Long Jim, "I've got advice to give you. I wuz in a big town once. I told you about that time I went to Baltimore when I wuz a little boy, an' so I'm fit to tell you how to behave. New Or-lee-yuns ain't like the woods, Jim. Don't you be too handy with your gun. Ef you see a man follerin' along behind you ez ef he wuz trailin' you, don't you up an' take a shot at him. Like ez not he's about his business, only it happens to be in the same direction that you're goin'. An', Jim, don't you go to gittin' dizzy, through seein' so many people about. Mebbe you don't think thar will be sech a crowd, but you'll believe it when you see it."

"Sol Hyde," rejoined Long Jim indignantly, "I'm sorry New Or-lee-yuns ain't right at the sea, 'cause the sea is salt, so I've heard, an' then ef I wuz to dip you in it three or four times it would do you a pow'ful lot uv good. Salt is shorely mighty helpful in the curin' up uv fresh things."

"There goes another of those canoes," said Paul, "but I can't tell whether it's a white man or an Indian in it."

"It's a white man," said Henry, "but I fancy it's a West Indian Frenchman or Spaniard. I've heard that some of them are as dark as Indians."

"Time to think 'bout tyin' up for the dark," said Tom Ross. "We might go on all night, but we need to save our strength fur to-morrow. What do you say to that little cove over thar on the west bank, Henry?"

"Looks as if it would be the right place," replied Henry, "and it is certainly time to stop. The sun seems to go down faster here than it does In Kentucky."

The twilight was spreading swiftly over the arch from west to east as they entered the cove and tied "The Galleon" to a live oak. Paul leaped joyfully ashore, glad to stretch his limbs again. The others quickly followed, and they set about gathering wood to build a fire. They were out of the Indian country now and they had no need to be cautious.

Paul bestirred himself looking for brushwood. Presently he found at the edge of the water a dead bough which was long enough to be broken into several sticks of convenient length. He picked it up, and for the purpose of breaking it brought it down heavily on a large brown log lying in the mud near the water.

To Paul's amazement and horror, the big brown log got into action at either end. One end, in the shape of a tail, whipped around at him, barely missing him, and the other end, splitting itself horizontally in half, revealed huge jaws lined with terrible teeth. Paul sprang back with a cry, and Henry, who was near, rifle in hand, fired a ball into the monster's brain. The big brown log, that was no log, turned partially over and died.

"An alligator," said Henry, "I've heard of them, but this is the first that I've ever seen."

"I've heard of them, too," said Paul, "but I never thought I'd walk almost into the mouth of one without knowing it."

Shif'less Sol had his grievance, too. "Now that's another o' the ways o' this here southern country!" he exclaimed in a pained tone, "A big, hungry, wild animal, tryin' to pass itself off ez, an old dead log. Up in Kentucky, a good honest bear, or even a sneakin' panther, would be ashamed to look you in the face after tryin' to play sech a low-down trick on a man."

"It is certainly a hideous brute," said Paul.

"I'm thinkin' that we'd better build our fire big," said Long Jim. "I don't want to wake up in the mornin' an' find myself devoured by an alligator, jest when I wuz about to reach the great town uv New Or-lee-yuns."

But they were not molested that night by either man or animal, and the next day, watchful and surcharged with interest, they approached New Orleans, which was bulking so large to them. The river looped out into a crescent and narrowed greatly. As they came to the city, the Mississippi did not seem to them to be more than a third of a mile wide, but they knew that it was extremely deep.

But there, snugly within the crescent, lay New Orleans, a town enclosed within palisaded fortifications that faced the levee for about a thousand yards, and that ran back perhaps half as far. The levee was lined with vessels. Already New Orleans was famous for shipping, and they saw the flags of many nations. Schooners there were and brigs and brigantines, and barks and barkentines, and other craft from Europe and the West Indies and South America. Near the shore was a great, high ship, from which the red and yellow flag of Spain fluttered in more than one place, while the muzzles of cannon protruded from her wooden sides.

"That's an armed galleon," said Paul.

"She's a big ship an' she's got lots o' men on her," said Shif'less Sol, "but I wouldn't trade our gall-yun fur her."

"No, our boat suits us best," said Henry.

They saw about them on the river many small craft like their own, ships, boats, canoes, barges, dug-outs, and other kinds, manned by white men, red men, yellow men, and brown men. They heard strange cries in foreign tongues, and now and then the sound of a trumpet blown at one of the forts in the palisaded wall. Officers in brilliant uniforms appeared on the levee.

The eyes of Long Jim Hart opened wider and wider.

"It shorely is a big town," he said. "Sol, I'd been thinkin' that you an' Paul wuz tellin' a good deal that ain't, but I reckon it's the truth. The world has a lot more people than I thought it had. I'm pow'ful glad I came."

They turned "The Galleon" toward the levee, and an officer in a boat pulled by four uniformed oarsmen hailed them in Spanish, which none of them understood.

"Must be a harbor master or something of that kind," said Henry.

They brought "The Galleon" to a stop, and the other boat came alongside. The officer in the bow was a Catalan, richly dressed, and small, but with a thin, alert face. He looked at the five with as much curiosity as they looked at him. Secretly he admired their splendid shoulders and chests, and their obvious strength. He was acute enough, too, to guess whence they came. Lieutenant Diégo Bernal had not been two years in New Orleans for nothing.