It was made long ago by the Southern Indians as they threaded their way to the Hunting Lands of Kaintuckee, and shared now by Indian traders.The path was redolent with odors, and bright with mountain shrubs and flowers,--the pink laurel bush, the shining rhododendron, and the grape and plum and wild crab.The clear notes of the mountain birds were in our ears by day, and the music of the water falling over the ledges, mingled with that of the leaves rustling in the wind, lulled us to sleep at night.
High above us, as we descended, the gap, from naked crag to timber-covered ridge, was spanned by the eagle's flight.
And virgin valleys, where future generations were to be born, spread out and narrowed again,--valleys with a deep carpet of cane and grass, where the deer and elk and bear fed unmolested.
It was perchance the next evening that my eyes fell upon a sight which is one of the wonders of my boyish memories.The trail slipped to the edge of a precipice, and at our feet the valley widened.Planted amidst giant trees, on a shining green lawn that ran down to the racing Nollichucky was the strangest house it has ever been my lot to see--of no shape, of huge size, and built of logs, one wing hitched to another by ``dog alleys''
(as we called them); and from its wide stone chimneys the pearly smoke rose upward in the still air through the poplar branches.Beyond it a setting sun gilded the corn-fields, and horses and cattle dotted the pastures.We stood for a while staring at this oasis in the wilderness, and to my boyish fancy it was a fitting introduction to a delectable land.
``Glory be to heaven!'' exclaimed Polly Ann.
``It's Nollichucky Jack's house,'' said Tom.
``And who may he be?'' said she.
``Who may he be!'' cried Tom; ``Captain John Sevier, king of the border, and I reckon the best man to sweep out redskins in the Watauga settlements.''
``Do you know him?'' said she.
``I was chose as one of his scouts when we fired the Cherokee hill towns last summer,'' said Tom, with pride.``Thar was blood and thunder for ye! We went down the Great War-path which lies below us, and when we was through there wasn't a corn-shuck or a wigwam or a war post left.
We didn't harm the squaws nor the children, but there warn't no prisoners took.When Nollichucky Jack strikes I reckon it's more like a thunderbolt nor anything else.''
``Do you think he's at home, Tom?'' I asked, fearful that I should not see this celebrated person.
``We'll soon l'arn,'' said he, as we descended.``I heerd he was agoin' to punish them Chickamauga robbers by Nick-a-jack.''
Just then we heard a prodigious barking, and a dozen hounds came charging down the path at our horses' legs, the roan shying into the truck patch.A man's voice, deep, clear, compelling, was heard calling:--``Vi! Flora! Ripper!''
I saw him coming from the porch of the house, a tall slim figure in a hunting shirt--that fitted to perfection--and cavalry boots.His face, his carriage, his quick movement and stride filled my notion of a hero, and my instinct told me he was a gentleman born.
``Why, bless my soul, it's Tom McChesney!'' he cried, ten paces away, while Tom grinned with pleasure at the recognition ``But what have you here?''
``A wife,'' said Tom, standing on one foot.
Captain Sevier fixed his dark blue eyes on Polly Ann with approbation, and he bowed to her very gracefully.
``Where are you going, Ma'am, may I ask?'' he said.
``To Kaintuckee,'' said Polly Ann.
``To Kaintuckee!'' cried Captain Sevier, turning to Tom.``Egad, then, you've no right to a wife,--and to such a wife,'' and he glanced again at Polly Ann.``Why, McChesney, you never struck me as a rash man.Have you lost your senses, to take a woman into Kentucky this year?''
``So the forts be still in trouble?'' said Tom.
``Trouble?'' cried Mr.Sevier, with a quick fling of his whip at an unruly hound, ``Harrodstown, Boonesboro, Logan's Fort at St.Asaph's,--they don't dare stick their noses outside the stockades.The Indians have swarmed into Kentucky like red ants, I tell you.Ten days ago, when I was in the Holston settlements, Major Ben Logan came in.His fort had been shut up since May, they were out of powder and lead, and somebody had to come.How did he come? As the wolf lopes, nay, as the crow flies over crag and ford, Cumberland, Clinch, and all, forty miles a day for five days, and never saw a trace--for the war parties were watching the Wilderness Road.'' And he swung again towards Polly Ann.``You'll not go to Kaintuckee, ma'am; you'll stay here with us until the redskins are beaten off there.He may go if he likes.''
``I reckon we didn't come this far to give out, Captain Sevier,'' said she.
``You don't look to be the kind to give out, Mrs.
McChesney,'' said he.``And yet it may not be a matter of giving out,'' he added more soberly.This mixture of heartiness and gravity seemed to sit well on him.``Surely you have been enterprising, Tom.Where in the name of the Continental Congress did you get the lad?''
``I married him along with Polly Ann,'' said Tom.
``That was the bargain, and I reckon he was worth it.''
``I'd take a dozen to get her,'' declared Mr.Sevier, while Polly Ann blushed.``Well, well, supper's waiting us, and cider and applejack, for we don't get a wedding party every day.Some gentlemen are here whose word may have more weight and whose attractions may be greater than mine.''
He whistled to a negro lad, who took our horses, and led us through the court-yard and the house to the lawn at the far side of it.A rude table was set there under a great tree, and around it three gentlemen were talking.
My memory of all of them is more vivid than it might be were their names not household words in the Western country.Captain Sevier startled them.
``My friends,'' said he, ``if you have despatches for Kaintuckee, I pray you get them ready over night.''
They looked up at him, one sternly, the other two gravely.
``What the devil do you mean, Sevier?'' said the stern one.