The Messenger
The Messenger
Prologue
"Pa, when's Mingo goin' to be here?" Israel's bright eyes glittered in the candlelight. The raucous celebration continued all around him but the boy felt his friend's absence keenly.
"Now son, you know Mingo comes and goes as he likes and there's no way o' knowing when he'll be here. Could be today, could be weeks from now. You know he went to visit his friends in Williamsburg after he got their letter last winter. So you'd best just go to celebratin' like the rest of 'em."
Daniel scooped his son off the bar and set him down on the vibrating floorboards. The wedding celebration was in full swing and the fiddle music soon caught the boy's fancy and he began to clap his hands in time to the beat. But his mind did not forget about Mingo, and as events progressed it was a very good thing that he didn't.
Chapter 1
"Dan'l, these are some o' the finest pelts you'n Mingo've brought in here! Where'd you two find all these beaver?" Cincinnatus leaned over his bar, fingered his beard and prepared to listen to Daniel's story.
With a quick glance at Mingo, whose face was split into a wide grin, Daniel began his tale. "Well Cincinnatus, you know how the Shawnee favor tradin'?" Cincinnatus laughed and nodded his head.
"Enough said Dan'l. Upcountry there's some aggervated Shawnee wonderin' where their pelts've gone to. How'd you two do it?"
"Now if we tell you that it would make you our accomplice. You don't really want a passel o' aggervated Shawnee on YOUR tail do you?"
The men laughed together and Cincinnatus filled three mugs with cool ale from the barrel propped on his bar. The three friends talked together for nearly an hour, then Daniel gathered his accoutrements and prepared to go back to his cabin. Cincinnatus straightened and handed Daniel his mail. Together Daniel and Mingo walked into the stockade as Daniel rifled through the mail. He stopped suddenly and turned to the tall Cherokee at his side.
"Here's one for you Mingo. From Williamsburg." Daniel's face betrayed his curiosity but he handed the unopened letter to his friend. Mingo glanced at the writing, frowning. Then he broke the seal and began to read. The activity of the settlement continued on around them as he read. Beside him Daniel's eyes watched closely as Mingo's face lit with a pleased smile.
"It's from Dennis Dowling. Remember me telling you about the young couple I found in the cave two winters ago? They followed my advice and went to Williamsburg, to Walter and Nancy Miller. They just had a baby girl this spring and want me to come and see them."
"That's a far piece, but we've gone that far before on official business for the crown. And for the colonial governor before he moved to Richmond. Do you want company?"
"I haven't yet decided that I'm going Daniel."
Daniel Boone smiled broadly. "Mingo, you're goin'. I can see it in your face. You want to see this couple and your friends that traveled with you when you came from England. If we set out at the spring thaw, we could easily be back before time to go trappin' in the fall."
Mingo's face registered amusement, his dark eyes glowed with it. "Daniel, what will Rebecca think about this "little journey" that will require you to be gone from spring until fall?"
Daniel pursed his lips thoughtfully. He glanced into Mingo's dancing eyes, then dropped his head. "You might have somethin' there, Mingo. I do have crops to put in and harvest. You're right. I will miss just traipsin' over the countryside with you though." Daniel sighed before he could stop himself, then lightly colored with embarrassment.
"Don't worry, Daniel. I know how much you love your family. I just couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you."
Daniel nodded and slapped Mingo's shoulder as the two exited the stockade gates and turned home. Mingo stayed with the Boones until the following morning, then shouldered his pack, hefted his rifle and strode eagerly to his own home a day's journey away.
The winter proved to be mild and Mingo began his journey to Williamsburg in late March. By mid-April he was through the Gap and walking easily down the eastern side of the Smokies. Late one afternoon his sensitive nose caught a whiff of wood smoke. He carefully followed the scent, slipping from tree to tree as protection.
From a distance of a hundred yards he could see the bright flames as they lit the darkening forest. Before the fire he noticed three children and an Indian youth. The youth was bound tightly to a tree. The three white children seemed very frightened. Mingo watched them from the shelter of the trees.
The oldest child was a girl of about ten. The child leaning against her from the left was a boy. He seemed to be younger. On her other side leaned a tiny girl, her thumb pushed deeply into her little mouth. All three children had their eyes riveted on someone or something that Mingo could not see. The figure was hidden in the shadows of the approaching night. Through the quiet came a man's voice, muted. Mingo could not understand any words but he assumed the voice belonged to a person blocked from his view.
The entire encampment communicated a sense of foreboding to the Cherokee. Cautiously he slipped another few yards to his left in an attempt to see the man whose voice continued in a kind of singsong chant. Finally, directly in his line of sight Mingo could see a slight white man dressed in a dark coat and trousers. His thin legs were encased in tall black stockings. Seated on a small boulder, the man had his feet firmly planted beside the rock. He seemed to be in deep prayer or supplication, his thin hands resting on his knobby knees, palms to the heavens.
As Mingo watched this man fell heavily to the ground and began to twitch. From his lips poured a language totally unfamiliar. It wasn't any Indian language that Mingo was familiar with, or Latin, English, German or Italian. Puzzled and fascinated he stood watching the strange posturing. Raising his eyes to the three children he saw that they had risen and were staring in horror at the babbling man. The Indian youth pulled frantically against his bonds, his dark eyes bulging from his face.
Mingo stepped into the light of the fire and approached the children. They noticed him and the smallest girl screamed in fright. The oldest girl thrust both younger children behind her slim body and faced Mingo bravely, her set lips trembling in her own fear.
The Indian youth slid to place the tree between himself and Mingo, the bark scraping against his body as he moved. In the fleeting seconds before the youth disappeared Mingo recognized his distinctive necklace as belonging to the Monacan people. The copper disc, threaded on a leather thong and worn tightly pressed against his throat, winked in the faint light. Beadwork adorned the front of his cloth shirt and the top flap of his moccasins.
The white man continued to lie on the ground, the unrecognizable syllables pouring from his lips. Mingo stood watching for several seconds. Then slowly he walked toward the girl standing stiffly in the firelight. He made his voice soft and non-threatening as he smiled at the children.
"Hello. My name is Mingo. Do you know this man?" Mingo gestured at the trembling man still sputtering what sounded like nonsense into the cool Kentucky air.
He laid on his back, knees bent and hands tightly clenched at his sides. His face was flushed and his eyes aflame.
The oldest girl stood stiffly, staring at Mingo. Behind her the youngest girl continued to shriek in panic. Suddenly the boy shot around his sister and rushed at Mingo, a rock raised in his hand. Mingo easily removed the rock as he grasped the child's thin wrist. The boy pulled against Mingo's grip with all his strength, then collapsed at the man's feet.
Instantly Mingo bent and lifted the fainting child. Carrying the boy he walked three paces to the edge of the firelight and placed him carefully on the cold ground. The oldest girl rushed to his side, fear etched upon her face.
"Bernie? Bernie? Wake up!" The girl shook the boy's shoulder as her voice betrayed her turmoil. The smallest child pressed against her sister's body, shivering. Mingo smiled at the little girl and reached out his hand. The child leaped back as though stung.
"Miss, your brother has only fainted. He isn't hurt." Mingo's smooth voice seemed to calm the older girl and she stopped shaking the boy's shoulder. "He is your brother?"
The girl nodded and turned to look at the tall Cherokee kneeling beside her. Several seconds passed as she stared into the man's dark eyes. His warm smile continued to light his face and the girl produced a small smile in return. Mingo's smile instantly broadened.
"There, that's better. Now, can you tell me who you are and why you are here? Is this man your father?"
The girl recoiled as though struck and began to cry uncontrollably. Mingo reached and slowly drew her into his arms. Her hands gripped his vest tightly as her sobs shook his slender frame. He could feel the tiny little toddler pressed against his side, burrowing under his arm. After several minutes the older girl drew away, her eyes widening in alarm as the heavy piece of firewood crashed against Mingo's shoulders.
No one had noticed that the senseless babbling had ceased. Knocked forward, Mingo rolled instantly to avoid another blow. He kicked out with his strong legs and sent the thin man spinning into the dark woods. Lightly leaping to his feet the Cherokee rushed after the prone white man and wrenched the piece of wood from the other man's hand. Holding the club menacingly, Mingo stood over his attacker.
All fight seemed to have drained from the thin man. He lay motionless on the soft spring soil. His light eyes gazed fixedly into Mingo's face. The two girls pressed against Mingo's leg. He gently encircled them with his free arm and spoke comfortingly.
Slowly the man raised himself into a sitting position and addressed the tall Indian before him. "Peace, brother. Peace. I thought you were molesting my charges. An honest mistake. You are dressed like a heathen."
"I am a heathen. I am no brother to you." Mingo's spoke harshly as his mind brought forth Daniel's childhood friend Will Carey. Mingo had tracked him to Boonesborough after a brutal killing of three Cherokee youths. That man had also called him "brother", sneering with malice as he said the word. The settlement later discovered that Daniel's old friend was indeed a murderer. Was this man the same?
"All men are brothers. I am a called servant of the Word, sent to bring light to the darkness." The thin man's voice was gaining volume as he continued to stare pointedly into Mingo's brown face.
Mingo looked carefully at the man's clothing. There was no white collar but otherwise the man was dressed as a minister. Mingo frowned at the disparity between the man's dress and his actions. The behavior of the children warned him of a mystery he did not yet understand. And what of the Monacan youth still tied to the tree?
Drawing a rope from his pack Mingo leaned over and pulled his attacker upright. "Until I understand what exactly is occurring here I am going to restrain you. Sit in front of this tree and place your hands behind you."
Meekly the thin man did as Mingo directed, his lips constantly moving in a mumbled prayer. Mingo frowned again at the man's strange actions. He seemed to be in a trance, or suffering from a blow to the head. After tying the man securely to the tree Mingo walked back to the two girls now sitting beside their recovering brother.
Sitting beside them Mingo again asked their names. The older girl swallowed and replied softly, "I am Mary, this is my sister Anna, and my brother Bernie."
Mingo nodded and smiled. He took Mary's hand and shook it gently. "I am pleased to meet you Mary." He turned to the two younger children. "Bernie and Anna, I am pleased to meet you. Now, please tell me what you are doing in the wilderness with this man who is not your father."
Mary choked back a sob and began a tale that had Mingo cringing long before it was over.