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Updated: May 23, 2025
I leaned forward and looked between the horse's ears and discovered a bear down in the hollow, nosing about for nuts and grubs on the bank of the brook. A bear was always acceptable meat to a settler, and I at once decided to stalk the brute and pack his carcass to the Grisdol cabin.
We were well beyond the brook where I shot my Shawnee, and within half a mile or less of the Grisdol cabin, when our flight was interrupted for a few moments by the behavior of my horse. It was just as we turned from the main trace to strike into the path leading to the cabin that the animal bolted sidewise, crowding Cousin deep into the bushes.
I said. "Black Hoof's band. They're hard to dodge," he whispered, striding rapidly along and swinging his head from side to side. "How far to the Grisdol cabin?" "Two miles." "Then ride for it. I'll run at your stirrup. We'll need that cabin if it ain't been burned. I 'low it'll be a close race." There was no sign of pursuit.
I removed them and placed them in the roll of buckskin that I carried for moccasin-patches. And my heart being hardened, I scalped the murderer with never a qualm. No warning was longer needed at the Grisdol cabin. The Indians had struck. Furtively scanning the grove, I stole to the trace where my horse stood fetlock-deep in the brook.
When I said that Black Hoof was in command of the Grisdol raiders my audience displayed nervousness, and more than one glance was cast toward the west. The effect on Ward was pronounced, also. Rising, he asked: "Catahecassa led that path? I must be going. It was from his band I escaped. His warriors followed me. I will go to the east before camping for the night."
After counting his losses in the mountains about the Grisdol clearing, the warriors killed in Abb's Valley, and now his losses here at Howard's Creek, the score was distinctly against him. No matter how mighty and famous a chief may be, he will surely and quickly lose his following if disaster dogs his war-paths. So I could understand Black Hoof's mental attitude.
I reviewed all the circumstances which would preclude the possibility of an Indian attack on the three travelers. There could be no Indians between Dunlap's and Howard's. Black Hoof's losses at the Grisdol cabin, the venomous hatred of young Cousin stalking them day and night and the appearance of Baby Kirst would surely hasten their retreat.
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