Kings Pinnacle (11 page)

* * * *

Alex

Alex and the Longhunter
were up at first light and set off following The Great Wagon Road
west toward the Watkins Ferry. Alex was walking, and the Longhunter
was riding on the trail next to him. They were through the mountain
passes before the sun was very high in the sky and across the
Pennsylvania border into Maryland by noon. After a few more hours
on the trail, they stopped in Hagerstown in mid-afternoon to get
something to eat at the only inn in town. The Longhunter paid for
the meals and told Alex that he could owe him for it.

From Hagerstown to
Williamsport was only about ten miles, so they decided to push
ahead toward the Potomac River ferry before dark. The trail began
to narrow even more just outside Hagerstown, and it became a little
rougher as it meandered down toward the river, through the dense
forest. The sun was low in the sky, casting the long shadows of the
tree trunks across the trail as the two men entered into a thicker
portion of the forest about five miles outside
Hagerstown.

Alex sensed that something
was not right as soon as he stepped into the small creek that
crossed the trail. The birds’ serenade with its insect
accompaniment had suddenly stopped as if all the critters were
holding their breath, anxiously waiting for something to happen.
The Longhunter sensed it too, for he had suddenly dropped out of
his saddle, landing on his feet in the creek next to Alex. The
Longhunter pushed Alex down into the water, diving down next to him
so that they lying on their stomachs with only their heads sticking
up above the water.

“Stay down, lad,” he
whispered as he lay next to Alex in the shallow creek.

“Let’s work our way
downstream a bit,” continued the Longhunter in a
whisper.

No sooner had the words come
out of the Longhunter’s mouth than an arrow came arcing out of the
trees landing in the water right between the two men, a narrow
miss.

“Follow me!” shouted the
Longhunter as he rose up out of the water and ran downstream in the
middle of the creek, splashing water as he went.

The ambush had now been
fully triggered and arrows were flying toward the two men from what
seemed like all directions. But there weren’t as many arrows flying
as there should have been in a full scale ambush. They had sensed
the ambush early and triggered it before they were all the way into
the ambush killing zone. The enemy warriors had not shown
themselves yet, but Alex and the Longhunter knew they were in
trouble and would be lucky to survive the next few minutes. Alex
followed the Longhunter’s lead. He had no idea how many opponents
he faced. He and the Longhunter just knew that there were probably
a lot of them.

One behind the other, the
two men raced down the creek for several yards. The Longhunter
spied a fallen tree half in and half out of the water and dived
down next to it. Alex followed suit on the other side of the tree
trunk, taking what cover the fallen tree could provide. They knew
that they couldn’t stay there long. Alex was breathing hard as the
adrenalin coursed through his system.

“Let’s make a run for the
Watkins Ferry, lad.”

“
How far is it?” asked
Alex.

“It’s likely only about five
miles from here,” gasped the Longhunter. “How fast can ye
run?”

Alex nodded agreement and
replied, “Fast.”

Rising up out of the water
again, they ran up the creek bank and through the woods paralleling
the trail toward Williamsport, with the Longhunter in the lead. The
Longhunter thought that the ambush was more than likely set along
both sides of The Great Wagon Road, so by paralleling the trail on
one side of it, they would have to deal with only about half the
number of warriors that they might encounter while running down the
center of the trail.

Again, the arrows started
flying toward them as soon as they started running, but the forest
was dense and it was hard to hit a man running full speed through a
thick forest with an arrow. There were too many trees to get in the
way of the arrow flight. They had run for about twenty paces when
the first warrior they had seen during the entire episode stood up
to block their path. He looked like an Iroquois or possibly one of
the Iroquoian-speaking Tuscarora who had migrated up from North
Carolina to join the Iroquois. He laid his bow on the ground and
crouched into a fighting position holding a knife.

As the Longhunter, who was
carrying his rifle in both hands in front of him, approached the
brave, he swung his rifle like a quarterstaff at the warrior just
at the last second, bringing the rifle butt around in an arc. He
connected with the brave’s jaw before the warrior could dodge the
blow. The warrior went down, out cold, and the two men leapt over
his body and kept running as fast as they could, even with the
unsure footing under the trees.

There were fewer and fewer
arrows coming in their direction as they ran through the trees. So
the Longhunter began to alter their course, angling on a diagonal
path back toward the main trail.

When they finally merged
back on to The Great Wagon Road, Alex’s superior speed became
evident almost immediately. It wasn’t long before he had pulled
ahead of the Longhunter by a significant margin.

“Save your wind, lad. We’ve
got a ways to run!” shouted the Longhunter at Alex’s back, thinking
that Alex would be spent soon.

Alex heard the Longhunter
and glanced back over his shoulder at him. He saw the large gap he
had opened up ahead of the Longhunter, but he also saw a dozen or
more of the warriors sprinting down the trail behind the
Longhunter, and they were gaining on him. Alex thought he could
probably outrun the pursuers, but he knew that the Longhunter
couldn’t. So he slackened his pace and dropped back to run
alongside the Longhunter.

“Keep running toward the
ferry, I’ll catch up to you,” panted Alex as he slowed his pace
even further to fall behind the Longhunter.

When the Longhunter was
several strides ahead of him, Alex suddenly stopped and turned
around to face the warriors. The braves were so completely caught
off guard by the unexpected maneuver that they immediately stopped
running and were staring at Alex, wondering what he was doing. As
they stood there looking at him in astonishment, Alex let out a
Scottish war whoop. He dropped to one knee, brought his rifle up to
his shoulder and fired a shot into the chest of the brave closest
to him, dropping him to the ground in the center of the trail. The
sound of the shot caused the other braves to instinctively drop to
the ground and to take cover as well. Alex jumped up while the
warriors were still down and raced back toward the Longhunter, who
was almost a quarter mile ahead of him by that time.

The band was angered by the
deception and recovered quickly. They were soon on their feet
again, chasing after the two fleeing men. Before long, the warriors
realized that even their fastest brave was no match for Alex’s
speed, but they kept up the pursuit. Alex was still well behind the
Longhunter when they approached the town of Williamsport and the
ferry, but the band of braves was further back, still trying to
catch up.

The small community of
Williamsport was first founded on the eastern bank of the Potomac
River. At that time, there were very few houses and buildings on
the east bank and the expansion of the community had not reached
the west bank of the river at all. As Alex and the Longhunter
approached the Potomac River, running as fast as they could, the
ferry had just landed on the eastern bank and discharged a few
passengers and livestock. The passengers and ferrymen had heard
Alex’s rifle shot and the war hoops of the Iroquois and had stopped
what they were doing. When they saw Alex and the Longhunter running
through the middle of the town toward the ferry while being chased
by the Iroquois warriors, they hastily re-boarded the ferry, both
people and livestock. The townspeople quickly ran into their houses
and stores when they saw the Iroquois chasing the two men down the
town’s main street. Pulling down their shades, they locked their
doors and hid, hoping the band would pass them by.

As soon as the passengers
and livestock were hurriedly loaded, the ferrymen who had pulled
the ferry across the river immediately cast off the gangplank and
began pulling the ferry back across the river towards the west bank
of the Potomac, without waiting for Alex and the Longhunter. The
gap between the east bank and the ferry was beginning to widen just
as Alex caught up with the Longhunter. Both of them ran
side-by-side the last few paces to the river bank and, without
missing a stride, they simultaneously jumped from the river bank
toward to the departing ferry.

Alex’s leap landed him with
both of his feet on the deck of the ferry. The Longhunter’s leap
fell so short that he landed in the water. But he managed to grab
the moving ferry deck with both hands after tossing his rifle onto
the ferry. Alex dropped his rifle on the deck and lunged for the
Longhunter’s hands holding on to the edge of the ferry deck. Just
as Alex reached for him, the Longhunter’s hands slipped off the
deck as his weight in the water dragged him away from the moving
ferry, causing him to lose his grip. Alex’s hands closed over the
Longhunter’s wrists just at the last second before the Longhunter’s
head went under the water. With both hands free, Alex pulled the
Longhunter out of the water and up onto the deck of the
ferry.

Gasping for air, they both
lay on their backs on the ferry deck, side-by-side, totally winded
from the long run and frantic leap.

The Iroquois band stopped
running after them when they saw that the two men had made it onto
the ferry. The braves knew that they couldn’t swim the fast moving
Potomac and catch Alex and the Longhunter on the ferry, so they
gave up the chase. Turning around, they slowly headed back to where
the Longhunter had left his horses and supplies.

“Ye run like a hare, lad,”
panted the Longhunter.

“So I’ve been told,” replied
Alex who was already regaining his breath.

“I owe ye a life, Alex,”
said the Longhunter.

“You lost your horses and
supplies,” said Alex, slightly embarrassed by the Longhunter’s
statement.

“
They can be replaced, but
ye can’t replace a life.”

“Who were those warriors
anyway?”

“They’re part of an Iroquois
band that lives northwest of Fort Cumberland. It’s unusual for them
to roam this far to the east. Their leader is old
Tinachock.”

“Why did they attack us?”
asked Alex rising up onto one elbow.

“I’m not certain, but it
could be because old Tinachock holds me responsible for the death
of his daughter.”

“
Why is that?”

“She was my wife; her name
was Onatah. It means Earth Mother in their language,” said the
Longhunter with a sigh, drowning in memories of his younger days
and a wife and son that he had barely known.

* * * *

Samuel

Samuel Ruskin and his two
friends were seated at a table near the back of a small tavern
close to the docks in Philadelphia. They had been sitting there for
some time when a scruffy looking, buckskin-clad man got up from his
chair and walked up to them.

“
Word has it that yer
looking fer someone to guide you west,” said the
stranger.

“
Maybe I am and maybe
not,” replied Samuel.

“You’re either looking or
you’re not. You can’t have it both ways.”

“
Who told you I was
looking for a guide?”

“
People talk.”

“
What people?”

“
Just people in general,”
replied the sly stranger.

“
What makes you think you
can guide me?”

“
I didn’t say I could; I
asked if you were looking for a guide.”

“
You look like someone who
might be a guide,” said Samuel as he eyed the man’s buckskin
clothes and animal fur cap.

“
I might be and I might
not,” said the stranger with an easy smile.

“Look, this conversation is
getting us nowhere,” said Samuel in an exasperated tone of voice.
“What if I was looking for more than a guide? What if I was looking
for someone who could help me trade with the Iroquois?”

“
Trade what?”

“
I have the kind of goods
that the Iroquois want and need to make their lives
easier.”

“
Exactly what kind of
goods are ye talking about?”

“
You ask a lot of
questions, maybe too many,” said Samuel dangerously.

“
When it comes to trading
with the Iroquois, it’s best to know exactly what you’re getting
into, if you value yer life,” said the stranger.

“
Are you willing to guide
me?” asked Samuel.

“
Depends on what’s in it
for me,” replied the stranger.

“
A small piece of the
pie,” said Samuel, as he realized what kind of man he was dealing
with.

“
I’ll take that and
something up front for my trouble,” said the stranger.