Chapter 3
Hours later the sunrise reached weakly through the bare trees and wakened the sleeping men. They stiffly leaned forward, got to their feet and stretched. While Mingo gathered more firewood Daniel kindled the little fire with the remaining sticks. The two men made a quick breakfast of frozen jerky strips softened in boiling water. Then they drank the hot broth, packed their blankets and camp equipment, and set off toward the Garth cabin.
They arrived near midday. Daniel walked boldly onto the porch and knocked. Beside him Mingo's face was carefully blank. Only his dark eyes conveyed his disquiet. The door opened to reveal Evelyn Garth, wiping her hands on her damp apron. Her tired, lined face lit with a soft smile as she recognized Daniel.
"Mr. Boone! It's so good to see you. Come in. And your friend too." Evelyn opened the door wide and beckoned them inside. Around the little table sat four chairs. Daniel exchanged a look with Mingo as they remembered the other Garth cabin where the chairs had been hung from the walls to discourage idleness. Apparently Joseph Garth was attempting a new way of life in Kentucky.
But their observations were put to nought as Evelyn continued to speak. "Mr. Garth isn't here. He's over at the mine."
Daniel's voice was too loud as he exclaimed "The mine!"
Evelyn's eyes begged for understanding as she continued. "The land here has coal deposits, Mr. Boone. Mr. Garth chose this land because of it."
"Excuse me Mrs. Garth, but didn't I overhear your husband declare that he was finished with mining before you came here?" Mingo's question hung in the silence. Evelyn bent before the hearth in an attempt to hide her face. But the two tall men saw her expression nevertheless.
"He tried to farm. But he knows mining so much better! Please try to understand. A man's got to be what he is."
Mingo's quick intake of breath alarmed Daniel. He knew what his friend was thinking because he himself was thinking the same thing. Joseph Garth had tried but failed to change his ways. "A man's got to be what he is." Before Mingo could say something to alarm the thin, tired woman Daniel grasped her arm and bent to look into her face.
"Where's the mine, Mrs. Garth? Which way?"
Evelyn looked for several seconds into Daniel's eyes. She stiffened her spine and clamped her lips tightly shut.
"Please, ma'am. There's been a killing and we just want to talk to your husband. He might know something about it. I'm a magistrate here in Kentucky and I'm investigating. That's all."
Evelyn considered for several more seconds then pointed silently to the south. Mingo and Daniel exchanged a look of alarm. "That way less than a mile, Mr. Boone. He works every day. He's a good man." She looked into Mingo's eyes. "He's a good man. What he did to you was wrong and he's sorry."
Mingo gently replied as he looked into her anxious face. "Are you sure he's working every day, Ma'am? Couldn't he be off somewhere else and you'd be unaware?"
Evelyn's expression told the two men that she knew of that possibility. She bowed her head and turned once again to the hearth. Sadly Mingo and Daniel walked through the stout door and off the little porch. Without conversation they strode to the south, their minds mulling over the possibilities.
A little more than a half-mile from the cabin the two men could see the tunnel opening in the side of a hill. Daniel motioned for Mingo to stand away from the mouth as he bent and walked into the narrow tunnel. Only a few feet into the shaft he could see Joseph Garth wielding a pickaxe. At his feet were several inches of coal pried from the vein. Grasping his rifle carefully in case the startled man swung at him, Daniel cleared his throat and spoke. "Hello, Mr. Garth."
The strong, stocky man whirled in surprise, the pick held defensively. In the dim light he could make out a tall, heavy man. "Mr. Boone?"
Daniel nodded and gestured to the opening. "Let's go outside, Mr. Garth. I need to talk to you." Daniel turned and left the tunnel, Joseph Garth a few feet behind. Mingo paced before the mouth, trying hard to compose himself.
Joseph Garth shot a startled look at the tall Cherokee. Mingo stopped pacing and stood with his feet apart, bracing his body against an attack. But Joseph allowed the pick to drop harmlessly beside his booted feet. Mingo's eyes followed the tool and stared at the other man's heavy boots. Daniel saw the direction of Mingo's stare and stepped forward.
"Mr. Garth, Mingo and I were returning home from our trap lines and we found a ruined Cherokee camp with two murdered men. Tracks on the ground were made by a white man wearing boots. Did you see anyone come by here a week or so ago, before the freeze?"
Joseph Garth's black eyes focused on Daniel's face as he replied. "I ain't seen another soul, red, black or white, in near on to two months. Not since October, Mr. Boone. Me and my wife've been busy makin' our home here. We haven't been off the place since we got here more'n a year ago."
Mingo stepped forward, his dark eyes hard with suppressed dislike. "You haven't been anywhere? Not even to hunt?"
Joseph saw the challenge in Mingo's eyes and lifted his chin defiantly. "No need. There's a salt lick north of the cabin. I can go and shoot anything I want, any time I want."
Mingo's face betrayed his doubt and Joseph Garth took a challenging step toward the tall Cherokee. "I don't like bein' thought a liar, Indian."
"Perhaps then you should behave in such a way as to place yourself above all suspicion."
Mingo's lips were lifted in an expression of disdain and dislike. His eyes glittered with anger. Daniel shoved between them before Joseph could push Mingo and start a fistfight that could easily escalate into something more serious.
"Mingo…." Daniel said warningly. His hand grasped Mingo's wrist as the Cherokee's right hand reached for the knife at his belt. Behind him Dan could feel Joseph Garth struggling to get around his tall body and grab Mingo. Pushing Mingo backwards Daniel fought to keep the two men from seriously harming each other.
Mingo saw the desperate look in Daniel's eyes and relaxed his hand. Daniel spun to face Joseph Garth and pushed against the heavy man's chest. Just at that moment Evelyn rang the noon dinner bell. The bright sound echoed through the forest. The three men glared at each other but Joseph dropped his fists, shoved past Daniel and started back to his cabin. After thirty yards he turned and shouted at Mingo.
"You'd better be clear of here before I come back or I'll finish what you started. Hear me!"
Mingo lunged forward but Daniel caught his muscular arm and held tightly. "Don't Mingo! That's just what he wants. Let's trail back to the trappers' camp from here and look for sign." Daniel nodded to his friend whose brown face was flushed with impotent rage. With great effort Mingo managed to nod his assent. He led the way, his long stride indicative of his intense emotion.
The two men had only gone a hundred yards when Mingo's sharp eyes spotted another boot print. "Daniel! Come here." Mingo beckoned urgently and Daniel trotted to his side. Pressed deeply in the frozen sod was another square-heeled boot print. Mingo walked slowly forward, bent at the waist, looking for another print. Two yards farther he found one under a leafless blackberry bush. He straightened and sighed, his face drawn into a mask of anger and hatred. There could be no doubt. Joseph Garth had killed Mingo's tribesmen.
An hour later Mingo sat drawn into himself. His blanket was draped around his shoulders and his feet were only inches from the blaze. Daniel sat across from him, trying once again to make the angry Cherokee see the possibilities. Once again he opened his mouth to try a different tack, but Mingo overrode his words with words of his own.
"Daniel, let's look at this logically, not emotionally. One, two of my people are dead. Two, they were killed by a man wearing heavy boots. Three, Joseph Garth wears heavy boots. Four, this same Joseph Garth views Indians as lazy, shiftless, worthless, and valuable only to work as he sees fit, as slaves. He's guilty Daniel. All the evidence points to him."
"It does look bad, Mingo, but remember your own situation. Your vest on the ground, your knife in a dead man's chest, and your beads in a dead boy's hand."
"But you didn't know about Morgan whipping me, so what was my motive? And if you had bothered to look you'd have noticed the marks on the ground where I crawled into the forest! You'd have seen my blood."
The two men looked at each other in aggravation. Suddenly Mingo's eyes widened as a new thought entered his flexible mind. "You didn't even think about a motive! You all were accusing me based on finding my things. You immediately assumed that I was capable of murdering a woman and a boy! Why would any of you think such a thing about me? I've never given ANY of you a reason to entertain such an idea. Especially you!"
Daniel hung his head in shame. Every word spoken by the Cherokee was true. He had been pushed along in the excitement of the moment. The evidence had been flimsy from the start. Mingo was right about looking for sign. Even though the ground around the bodies and wagon was trampled he could have found Mingo's trail by the tree.
He could easily have followed the scrapes Mingo's body made on the ground as he crawled. He could have spotted the blood Mingo's wounds smeared on the leaves as he brushed against shrubs and bushes. He could have known his friend was wounded.
Mingo sprang to his feet as he too thought of all the arguments. He stalked rapidly into the forest and disappeared. The sound of his passage diminished quickly as he walked farther and farther away from Daniel. In only seconds the sound of his footfalls ended.
Daniel sighed heavily and leaned back against the tree behind him. It was quite possible that he'd just lost his dearest, most dependable friend. The fragile peace that Mingo helped hold in place may just have been shattered. The daylight dimmed as heavy clouds obscured the sun. It was a metaphor for the disaster Daniel expected to befall his people in the very near future. All because of groundless accusations and prejudice.