So "Juan" and "Alisanda" it became between my lady and me, and Don Pedro looked on and smiled. Yet with and beneath it all, both held to a subtle reserve which told me plainer than words that the barriers were down only for a , and not for a treaty,—that our freedom of conduct as fellow-travellers would at the journey's end be barred by a return to customs not of the country.
At times when alone on watch at night, I thought with of the approaching days when my lady would resume her fine Castilian and Don Pedro his politeness. But on the whole I was content to make the most of my opportunities,—to drift with the current of our companionship as the boat drifted with the stream.
Milder days came to us as we floated down into the Southwest,—days of grateful sunshine and rains,—heavenly hours beneath the blue sky, when, inspired by the blossoming springtime upon the shores, we sat together in the open stern and sang solos and duets and trios to the accompaniment of the guitar.
With the coming of nightfall I learned to look for fog or wet, for a clear moon meant a night on watch, that we might lose nothing of the drift. But a dark sky gave me excuse to tie up to the bank for the night and join in an evening of music and genteel talk about our crackling beechwood fire.
Then there were lessons for me in Spanish from the don, and in the playing of the guitar by Alisanda. It was strange how clumsy were my fingers and how repeatedly I had to ask my fair teacher to place them correctly.
And so we swept on down the beautiful river, the depth of the Spring fresh bearing us clear over the rocks of the Ohio Falls at Louisville, as over the hundreds of miles of flats and shoals above and below.
At Lusk's Ferry Don Pedro had planned to leave the river and cut across country horseback, over the forty-league road to Kaskaskia, which would have saved nearly half the keelboat journey up the Mississippi from the mouth of the Ohio to St. Louis. For this we should have taken aboard our horses at Louisville or at the little settlement of Shawnee Town below the Wabash, since at Lusk's Ferry suitable mounts for our party were not to be had at any price. In the outcome, however, the of plans proved truly fortunate.
Having no other choice, we dropped on downstream past the Cumberland and Tennessee Rivers, to Fort Massac, our lonesome American , built near the site of the old French post of the same name. We tied up to the steep bank of clay and , and I made a landing. Upon at the post, Captain Bissell, the commandant, whom I had met the previous Fall on my journey, informed me at some length as to the movements of General Wilkinson. Report having been received that General Herrera, the Spanish commander in Texas, was a force to march upon Natchitoches, the Commander-in-Chief had the Mississippi for the double purpose of strengthening the forts at New Orleans and of assembling a force to the expected invasion.
I intimated to the captain that Señor Vallois was not to a war which might give his country opportunity to throw off the Spanish . At this he to me as his opinion that the long-impending seemed now , and that he would welcome a change which would not only relieve him of his in this post, but would tend to break up the general of the service.
His urgent invitation brought Don Pedro and Alisanda for a much needed change. Neither had set foot on shore for days, and I persuaded Don Pedro that the recreation was well worth the delay. But my pleasure over the of the exercise was not added to by the sight of the captain and his no less gallant receiving the smiles of Alisanda for their attentions. As a good excuse for avoiding the painful spectacle, I secured some spare jars of sweetmeats from Chita, and them in the little settlement near the fort stockade for chickens, eggs, and butter,—all of which would be still higher in price and harder to obtain after we entered the Mississippi.
Soon after the landing of my companions, so strong a head wind set in that we were forced to lie over night. Toward morning it fell to a pleasant breeze, and I put off at dawn, without waiting to rouse the others.
Midday found us afloat on the broad of the Father of Waters, whose noble flood, above St. Louis by the downpourings of the Missouri, and here by the Spring of the Ohio, rolled on gulfwards in full-banked . It was a grand sight, but one to which Don Pedro and Alisanda gave more thought than myself. Captain Bissell had dropped me a word of warning as to possible trouble from canoe parties of Chickasaw and other Indians, which, in view of Alisanda's presence, gave me no little uneasiness.
That night and the next I called upon Don Pedro to watch, turn about, with myself. I even went so far as to land at New Madrid; but the villagers knew nothing of the Indians. At last, late in the afternoon of the third day, we sighted a canoe full of putting out from the left bank, with the evident intention of us. At my command Alisanda and her woman sought shelter in their room, while I left the to the don, and stood ready with my rifle and his pistols.
When I signed the party to hold off at hailing distance, the foremost signed back that they were friends. But they were now near enough for me to see their black war paint. Again I signed the leader to keep off, and he in turn hailed me in Shawnee, demanding lead and . Before I realized what I was saying, I had answered him in his own tongue, telling him to bring his party around under our stern.
At this unexpected address, the chief raised the hand which I knew had been grasping his rifle. I responded with three or four quick signs that drew a guttural from the least of the warriors. They were not used to meeting white men who could claim fellowship in their tribe. But as they paddled nearer, I stared back at their chief, hardly less astonished. There could be no mistaking his noble, powerful features. He was my adopted brother Tecumseh!
The instant I recognized him with certainty, I laid down my rifle, and called to him in Shawanese: "Tecumseh, many years have come and gone since we parted at the British fort on the Maumee, yet do you not know again your white brother Scalp Boy?"
At the word he rose from his knees and stood grandly in the bow of the canoe, staring at me from beneath his levelled palm. The craft was now within twenty yards of us, and Don Pedro could not a muttered exclamation of
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