Chapter 8
June 27th, 1777, 10 days after,
Rain Cloud and Daniel were still following and tracking, taking few breaks, walking endlessly. But it was time to replenish some of their supplies. They had been trekking for 16 days. There was no more coffee, no more jerky. Shot and powder were getting low. They were in Maryland, near the Pennsylvania border. They were following a road, and Daniel hoped to find a settlement or at least, some farmer in a log cabin along the way.
When they saw chimney smoke, they knew they were near something bigger than just one homestead.
They arrived at a trading post; there were three cabins nearby. Angry people were brandishing weapons at the sight of Rain Cloud.
"Now hold on there!" We need to buy supplies." volunteered Daniel right away, making sure to make no aggressive movement.
"We don't have supplies for the likes of you. Go on. We don't need your business," answered the pudgier of the men. He was not armed, but obviously two of the men by his side were working either with him or for him. "We don't need your kind around."
Daniel recognized the signs; Indians were not welcomed around here. He thought he knew why.
"Listen, this Injun is no trouble. We are on our way to Philadelphia and we need supplies; as soon as we get them, we'll leave. A simple transaction, an hour's rest at the most," Daniel didn't demand or insist, he pleaded.
Daniel knew a man as tall as he was could appear threatening; he knew how to downplay himself when he had to.
"We need the supplies -- foodstuffs mostly. Some powder. Then we'll be on our way. You won't see us again," Daniel repeated.
While two armed men remained outside with Rain Cloud, Daniel went inside with the pudgy man. He managed to get enough supplies to last them another week, perhaps more if they were careful, at a price that wasn't too outrageous. More importantly, he got news.
It seemed an Indian, a tall one with blue trousers, had attacked the Johnson's homestead. That Indian had killed three chickens, stolen honey, coffee and more foodstuffs; and hit young Jamie Johnson on the head with a tomahawk. Jamie's sister Annie had seen him as she came back from the river with her clean laundry. She had been scared and had hidden away, until the Indian left. Annie and Jamie were left on their own since their father had gone trapping south. They were twins, strong and determined, only 14 but able to take care of the farming needs of their homestead. What this Indian had stolen from them, they needed badly.
Daniel paid for his supplies and did exactly what he had promised he would do - he left the area quickly.
As Daniel and Rain Cloud headed toward the Natasquan River, they realized they were being followed. They hadn't let it disturb them, acting as if hunting Mingo was their only reason for travel. Now it was time to find out exactly who was following, if it was McTavish as planned or some foes who might need to be taken care of.
After leaving the trading post, they walked north for about an hour, then veered toward the river. Rain Cloud circled back; Daniel busied himself making camp and waiting.
Rain Cloud came back to camp, took out his knife, and began carving. Daniel understood the message. He got up, as if to get more water. A slight hand movement, and Rain Cloud was on his feet. Daniel went right, Rain CLoud went left. The two white men who were resting near the river were surrounded.
"Hi there, been travelin' long ?" asked Daniel.
"Mr. Boone!"
"My name is Jeremiah Fox, Lieutenant," commanded Daniel.
"Mr. Fox," answered the lieutenant politely, " This is," he hesitated, "my friend, Willie Ferguson."
"Well, Thomas, mighty glad to see you again. Willie, I'm glad to make your acquaintance." Daniel offered the younger man his right hand. " Now you know why we are on this trail, I reckon?"
"Yes, sir," Willie said obediently.
"Jeremiah will do, gentlemen."
"Yes, Jeremiah," agreed Thomas McTavish, with a smile.
July 1st, 1777 - 14 days later - Morning
Mingo tended to avoid all roads leading to white men's villages or settlements. But he also needed to maintain the 'reputation' of being a marauder. He had to preserve powder; he could not set snares as he was always on the move. His provisions were getting low, walking endless miles, day after day. He did not wish for Daniel to "pull his feathers out of the fire," as he often teased him. Not unless their mission was concluded.
He had no more coffee. He didn't understand why he couldn't just live off water, like his Cherokee brothers. He needed coffee daily. He had no more salt to cure anything he might shoot. Fresh meat, a few vegetables to boil, would keep him going for a few more days.
Mingo knew he would have to raid another farm. Sighing, Mingo felt awful. He disliked raiding as much as he did, knowing his actions taught white settlers to fear Indians.
Daniel, Rain Cloud and Thomas were sleeping. Willie was standing guard. After meeting as planned, they had gone north, toward the Hudson River.
They had a strict schedule. Supplies waited for them at preplanned trading posts or deserted cabins, once even in a cave. A canoe and more supplies awaited them once they reached the Hudson.
Since battles were still waging between British forces and the Continental Army around Lake Champlain, travel in that area would be difficult and dangerous. With a bounty on Daniel's head, it was unlikely that "Jeremiah Fox" could go unnoticed. Many British officers knew Daniel Boone, and might be posted anywhere in Quebec.
Daniel had accepted this risk, just as Mingo had agreed to pose as a marauder and raider.