``That my friend, Tom McChesney, is going there with his wife, unless we can stop him,'' said Sevier.
``Stop him!'' thundered the stern gentleman, kicking back his chair and straightening up to what seemed to me a colossal height.I stared at him, boylike.He had long, iron-gray hair and a creased, fleshy face and sunken eyes.He looked as if he might stop anybody as he turned upon Tom.``Who the devil is this Tom McChesney?'' he demanded.
Sevier laughed.
``The best scout I ever laid eyes on,'' said he.``Adeadly man with a Deckard, an unerring man at choosing a wife'' (and he bowed to the reddening Polly Ann), ``and a fool to run the risk of losing her.''
``Tut, tut,'' said the iron gentleman, who was the famous Captain Evan Shelby of King's Meadows, ``he'll leave her here in our settlements while he helps us fight Dragging Canoe and his Chickamauga pirates.''
``If he leaves me, ``said Polly Ann, her eyes flashing, ``that's an end to the bargain.He'll never find me more.''
Captain Sevier laughed again.
``There's spirit for you,'' he cried, slapping his whip against his boot.
At this another gentleman stood up, a younger counterpart of the first, only he towered higher and his shoulders were broader.He had a big-featured face, and pleasant eyes--that twinkled now--sunken in, with fleshy creases at the corners.
``Tom McChesney,'' said he, ``don't mind my father.
If any man besides Logan can get inside the forts, you can.Do you remember me?''
``I reckon I do, Mr.Isaac Shelby,'' said Tom, putting a big hand into Mr.Shelby's bigger one.``I reckon Iwon't soon forget how you stepped out of ranks and tuk command when the boys was runnin', and turned the tide.''
He looked like the man to step out of ranks and take command.
``Pish!'' said Mr.Isaac Shelby, blushing like a girl;``where would I have been if you and Moore and Findley and the rest hadn't stood 'em off till we turned round?''
By this time the third gentleman had drawn my attention.
Not by anything he said, for he remained silent, sitting with his dark brown head bent forward, quietly gazing at the scene from under his brows.The instant he spoke they turned towards him.He was perhaps forty, and broad-shouldered, not so tall as Mr.Sevier.
``Why do you go to Kaintuckee, McChesney?'' he asked.
``I give my word to Mr.Harrod and Mr.Clark to come back, Mr.Robertson,'' said Tom.
``And the wife? If you take her, you run a great risk of losing her.''
``And if he leaves me,'' said Polly Ann, flinging her head, ``he will lose me sure.''
The others laughed, but Mr.Robertson merely smiled.
``Faith,'' cried Captain Sevier, ``if those I met coming back helter-skelter over the Wilderness Trace had been of that stripe, they'd have more men in the forts now.''
With that the Captain called for supper to be served where we sat.He was a widower, with lads somewhere near my own age, and I recall being shown about the place by them.And later, when the fireflies glowed and the Nollichucky sang in the darkness, we listened to the talk of the war of the year gone by.I needed not to be told that before me were the renowned leaders of the Watauga settlements.My hero worship cried it aloud within me.
These captains dwelt on the border-land of mystery, conquered the wilderness, and drove before them its savage tribes by their might.When they spoke of the Cherokees and told how that same Stuart--the companion of Cameron--was urging them to war against our people, a fierce anger blazed within me.For the Cherokees had killed my father.
I remember the men,--scarcely what they said: Evan Shelby's words, like heavy blows on an anvil; Isaac Shelby's, none the less forceful; James Robertson compelling his listeners by some strange power.He was perchance the strongest man there, though none of us guessed, after ruling that region, that he was to repeat untold hardships to found and rear another settlement farther west.But best I loved to hear Captain Sevier, whose talk lacked not force, but had a daring, a humor, a lightness of touch, that seemed more in keeping with that world I had left behind me in Charlestown.Him Iloved, and at length I solved the puzzle.To me he was Nick Temple grown to manhoodI slept in the room with Captain Sevier's boys, and one window of it was of paper smeared with bear's grease, through which the sunlight came all bleared and yellow in the morning.I had a boy's interest in affairs, and Iremember being told that the gentlemen were met here to discuss the treaty between themselves and the great Oconostota, chief of the Cherokees, and also to consider the policy of punishing once for all Dragging Canoe and his bandits at Chickamauga.
As we sat at breakfast under the trees, these gentlemen generously dropped their own business to counsel Tom, and I observed with pride that he had gained their regard during the last year's war.Shelby's threats and Robertson's warnings and Sevier's exhortations having no effect upon his determination to proceed to Kentucky, they began to advise him how to go, and he sat silent while they talked.And finally, when they asked him, he spoke of making through Carter's Valley for Cumberland Gap and the Wilderness Trail.
``Egad,'' cried Captain Sevier, ``I have so many times found the boldest plan the safest that I have become a coward that way.What do you say to it, Mr.Robertson?''
Mr.Robertson leaned his square shoulders over the table.
``He may fall in with a party going over,'' he answered, without looking up.
Polly Ann looked at Tom as if to say that the whole Continental Army could not give her as much protection.
We left that hospitable place about nine o'clock, Mr.
