Beyond the Quiet Hills (32 page)

“Oh no! It's just that I've always liked him so much. We've been good friends for a long time. I just thought he might come.”

Deborah rose and gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead. “I'll tell you what,” she said. “Why don't you ask him over to supper one night this week? Not for a birthday or anything, just to spend some time with us all.”

“Oh, that would be nice, Mother!” Abigail's eyes lightened, and she kissed her mother, then turned and went to bed.

She undressed quickly, slipped into a cotton nightgown, then blew out the candle and lay down. Outside, the stars made a sparkling canopy over the earth, and the moon was a huge silver disk. The pale light filtered in through the window and lit the room brightly. Abigail lay awake, not being sleepy. She thought once about getting up and lighting a candle to read for a while but decided not to. Finally she grew drowsy, and just before she dropped off to sleep, she found herself thinking of Jacob Spencer and Andrew MacNeal.
They're so different
, she thought just before she drifted off into a deep sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lord Dunmore's War

All of the trouble between the Indians and the settlers on the frontier had stemmed from the same source: the Indians had no concept of the ownership of land. They roamed over it killing their game, raising their families, moving from point to point when food became scarce—but as for owning the land, any attempt to explain this to them was usually futile. Therefore, as settlers began to filter across the Appalachian Mountains, inevitable conflicts arose. One of these conflicts was given the grandiose name of Lord Dunmore's War, after Virginia's military commander who was claiming the Indian lands of Can-tuc-kee for the British.

The events leading up to this conflict began in the late spring of 1774. The Cherokee were still angry over the murder of Cherokee Billie during the horse races on the Sycamore Shoals. Only the firm hand of Little Carpenter and a few of the other older chiefs kept war from breaking out right then. However, when another senseless killing took place along the Ohio River, the flood of war could no longer be contained.

A small party of Mingo were camped by the mouth of Yellow Creek at a spot called Bakers Bottom. Two men, both rather unsavory characters, Greathouse and Tomlinson, formed a motley crew of some twenty-seven men. The two hated Indians and let no opportunity escape to kill whenever they thought the time was right. Greathouse formulated a plan and moved across the river, where they were greeted by an Iroquois chief named Shikellimus. Greathouse was fluent in the Iroquois language and told the old Indian that they would like his band to join them for some rum and a marksmanship contest. Shikellimus declined but said he would send over five or six good marksmen to represent the Mingo.

Among the marksmen that went over was a pregnant Indian woman who was the daughter of Shikellimus and also the sister of Chief John Logan. Her brother, also called Talgayetta, was the Mingo chief of the Cuyahoga Indians, one of the five tribes grouped with the Iroquois. Logan was friendly to whites and had flatly refused to take part in the French and Indian War. He was a notable peacemaker and a valuable ally of the white settlers.

Early in the afternoon the small party of Mingo joined the whites and sat for some time drinking rum and engaging in sharpshooting. It was Logan's sister who suddenly uttered a piercing cry, leaped up, and ran toward the river.

By this time the Mingo were half drunk and looked around in confusion at the white men bearing muskets who had leaped out from hiding in the weeds. The Indians fumbled for their own weapons, but a volley of shots rang out, and all the Indians fell dead or dying. Knowing that the remaining Mingo across the river would come quickly to investigate, the entire party of whites fled after killing the Indians who had ferried the other victims across.

It was a senseless crime, and it changed the heart of the mighty Mingo chief, John Logan, who had never struck out at the whites, despite provocation. The next day, however, Chief Logan stood over the scalped and mutilated bodies of his kinsmen and great anger rose in him. He was transformed almost instantly into a man set on vengeance, and he vowed that he would not rest until the murderers of his people were dead.

Chief Logan's band fell upon the settlers almost instantly. Those who survived fled for safety, and by midsummer there was not a white settler left in all of Can-tuc-kee.

Logan visited the Cherokee, encouraging them to join him and drive the white man out of their native lands, but Oconostota and the Little Carpenter told Logan they had given their word not to retaliate for the murder of Cherokee Billie. The Cherokee nation would remain neutral, although some of the younger, more violent warriors, no doubt, joined Logan.

Disappointed and angry at the refusal of the Cherokee to join in the war, Logan turned toward the Clinch and Holston rivers. He and his marauding warriors rode with a vengeance, stealing, burning, scalping, and ravaging the frontier settlements and the thin line of forts along those rivers. At each place after the raid, Logan left a war club behind as a threat and a challenge. War clouds hung over Watauga and other settlements in the area, and unless something was done, no whites would be safe in the territory. It was a time for action, and unless something changed, the whites of the Colonies would be kept pinned to the small strip along the eastern seaboard, and the great westward migration would stop before it actually began.

****

As soon as Elizabeth saw Hawk's face, she knew something was wrong. Rising from her chair where she had been sewing a new garment for the baby, she came to him at once. Her voice was breathless, as it sometimes got when she was under stress. “What is it, Hawk?” she murmured, reaching up to lay her hand on his chest.

Covering Elizabeth's hand, Hawk shook his head. He had left early that afternoon, and now a vague, troubling expression reflected in his eyes as he said, “Lord Dunmore has called for the militia of the Holston Territory to join him in fighting the Shawnee.”

Elizabeth's heart suddenly beat faster, and her hand trembled under his. “Will . . . will the Watauga militia join?”

“Some will.”

Elizabeth knew him very well, and a small shiver of fear gripped her heart as she asked, “That means you, doesn't it?”

“Yes, I'll have to go.”

Elizabeth had endured the rumors of the outbreaks of the Shawnee with fortitude. Now, however, that the moment had come for her husband to put himself under the threat of the vicious and bloodthirsty tribesmen, she felt terribly weak. She suddenly had a frightening memory of her husband, Patrick, his bloody body as he had been cut down by Indians, and something in her protested,
No . . . no, not again! Once was enough!
Despite her resolutions, tears gathered in her eyes. She blinked them away quickly, however.
I must be strong. I can't let him see me like this
. “When will you leave?” she asked quietly.

“At first light. We have a long way to go.” He put his arms around her, and for some time they stood there, not moving. A quietness filled the room and both of them were saddened by the sudden interruption of their lives. Hawk knew better than Elizabeth the dangers that lay ahead, but he knew that her fears were greater than his.

“I'll come back to you,” he whispered and then kissed her cheek. He stroked her hair and was filled with the surprise that always came to him at the blessing of this woman whom God had sent into his life.

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as a drowning swimmer clings to a log that comes floating by as the last hope. He was strong and vital, and the life in him was powerful, yet she well knew that one arrow, one musket ball, or one blow of a tomahawk could end all that in an instant. She buried her face against his chest and shut her eyes tightly. “Come back to me, Hawk,” she whispered, then lifted her arms and pulled his head down to take his kiss.

****

Hawk had explained to the children all of the news that he had given Elizabeth the night before. Now as he put on his hunting shirt and picked his rifle from the pegs over the door, he thought how hard it had been. “It's different for a married man,” he had told Elizabeth. “Especially for one with children.” It had been Sarah who had taken it the hardest. She had been afraid and unable to conceal it. The boys had done better, but he saw the looks of apprehension in both of their faces.

Now as Hawk slung his gear together, preparing to load his horse and join the others, he looked up to see Andrew come in through the front door. He was wearing buckskins with his coonskin cap and holding his rifle firmly in his hands.

Taken somewhat by surprise, Hawk said, “You going hunting, Andrew?”

“I'm going with you, Pa.”

Hawk blinked with surprise and turned to face the young man. He had half expected Andrew to do something rash. As mildly as he could, he said, “Andrew, you've got to stay—”

“There's no sense talkin', Pa. I'm old enough to be in the militia, and I'm going. It would be better,” he said quietly, “if you took it well. I'd hate to have to sneak around and join behind your back. You can say anything you please, but my mind's already made up.”

“Have you told your mother about this?”

“Yes, I told her just now.”

“What did she say?”

Andrew hesitated, then shook his head. “She's afraid for me, of course, just like she's afraid for you. But this isn't a thing that I can put off.”

At that moment Elizabeth came in from outside, and Hawk saw that she was keeping her composure only by a distinct effort. Her face was usually in repose, but now there were lines of strain, and a panic appeared in her eyes that she could not hide. She stood beside Andrew and shook her head slightly. “Must you do it, son?”

“I've got to, Ma. I couldn't call myself a man if I didn't do what I could for this place and for our neighbors.”

“Son, you have to think—”

“I know what you're going to say, Pa. Somebody's going to have to stay here and take care of Ma and Sarah, Hannah, and Josh, but Jacob will be here to do that.”

For a few moments they stood there, Hawk trying to persuade Andrew to change his mind, but finally Hawk saw that it was useless. He went over and put his arm around Elizabeth and fixed his eyes on the strong figure of his stepson. “I'm against it,” he said quietly, and then he found himself smiling. “But I have to tell you, in all honesty, I'm proud of you, Andy. You've become a man.”

Elizabeth knew there was no persuading him to stay. She gave one final look of half desperation to her son, then said, “Hawk, watch out for him.”

Andrew laughed. He felt better now that both his parents had agreed and said in a teasing fashion, “I'll look out for
him
, Ma.”

At that moment both Sarah and Jacob came in the door, and Sarah said, “You're not going, too, are you, Andy?”

“Yes, I am.”

Sarah had already seemed about to cry, and now tears formed in her large eyes.

Andrew stared at her with astonishment. “Well, I can't believe that you're going to miss me!” He went over and put his arms around Sarah and kissed her on the cheek. “Don't worry, sis. I'll be all right.”

Jacob had watched all this with astonishment. Andrew had said nothing at all to him about going, and it came as a shock. Somehow he felt that he must do something to equal his brother, and he said quickly, “I'll go, too.”

“No, son. Someone has to stay behind with Elizabeth and the children.”

“Then Andrew should stay,” Jacob said, his face flushed.

Andrew was the younger of the two, but somehow he seemed more mature. He turned to face his half brother and said quietly, “I guess you got more reason to stay than I have.”

At once Jacob understood that he was referring to Abigail. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came to him. Somehow he felt that he had been amiss not to have volunteered to go with his father. After all, he was older. And now as he looked at the pride in Hawk's eyes as he gazed at Andrew, Jacob felt a tinge of misery but saw that it was useless to protest.
I should have done what Andrew's done
, he thought, watching his father's face carefully.
Then he would have been proud of me instead of his other son
.

Sarah did not sense the interchange between her two brothers, and now she piped up, asking, “Are you going to go tell Abigail good-bye, Andrew?”

“No reason to,” Andrew muttered. Then he forced himself to smile. “You tell her good-bye for me, all right?”

“All right. I will.”

Hawk hated good-byes and now said, “Well, the quicker we go, the quicker we'll get back.” He embraced Elizabeth, kissed her, then went over to the cradle and picked Joshua up. “Son, you be a good boy. Grow up while I'm gone. Put some meat on your bones.” He then turned to Hannah and held back the tears as he kissed her good-bye.

Andrew embraced his mother, then said, “I guess I'm ready, Pa.”

Hawk picked up his rifle and his gear, and when he reached the door, he suddenly turned and looked at his family. “I'll miss all of you,” he said simply.

Elizabeth moved outside, holding the baby and watching as the two men arranged their gear on their horses, then swung into the saddle. “God go with you,” she whispered and waved as they turned and left at a fast gallop. “I think it would be good to say a prayer for them,” she said. “Jacob, you're the man of the house now. You pray.”

Taken off guard, Jacob managed to mumble a few words, asking for a safe return. When he had said the “Amen,” he found himself wishing for the first time that he could have prayed to God as he should. He watched his father and brother disappear, and something cold grew in his stomach and he found himself more miserable than he would have imagined. He had not realized how his feelings for his father had begun to change, and even how close they now felt, despite their problems. Now as he turned to begin the chores, he felt a heaviness he knew would not soon pass away.