Read Jubal Sackett (1985) for Free Online Page B

paddle and the canoe glided around a rock, and Keokotah added, "There is big animal, big as a bear, maybe much bigger. He is yellow, long hair, very long claws. He dig. Much dig.
    "Then there is big animal, much meat. He have long nose, two spears."
    "Spears?An animal that carriesspears? "
    Keokotah made a sign for a long nose and two curved spears. An elephant?Here?
    I had never seen an elephant, although Sakim had drawn pictures of them, and my father had, I believed, seen one in England.
    "No," I shook my head. "Not here."
    "I speak clear." Keokotah was suddenly very dignified. "I see only one time. Long time. I know old man who hunt him many times. He is big, ver' big animal. Much hair."
    That was wrong. I knew about elephants and they did not have much hair. Only short, stiff bristles sometimes. "There is such an animal, but he does not live here."
    That was a mistake. "He lives," Keokotah spoke stiffly. "I see him."
    He did not speak again for many hours and I knew I had seriously offended him.
    The idea was preposterous, yet how could he have even known of such an animal? His English friend, perhaps? But why would Keokotah lie?
    Twice we sighted Indians on the shore, and once a canoe tried to overtake us, but it was no such canoe as ours and we left them far behind.
    Suddenly Keokotah pointed. A land mass seemed to block the river. "Hiwasee!" he said.
    As if commanded by the sound of his voice, two canoes shot into the main stream, each propelled by four paddlers. Dipping their paddles deep, they overtook us, one on either side.
    "Cherokees," I spoke to Keokotah. "Hold your hand!"

    Chapter Five.
    They were beside us, weapons ready. To attempt escape was to die. If we fought, the odds were against us, but I had friends among the Cherokees over the mountains. Even here I might find friends.
    We had traded with Cherokees at Shooting Creek, and we had carried trade goods to Cherokee towns to the south and east of us.
    Of Barnabas they must surely know. His name had become legend. Kin had often gone to their villages and had many friends among them, but of these Over Hill Cherokees we knew too little and that only by hearsay.
    Kin and Yance had hunted with the Cherokee, and had been on war parties with them. Yance, I had heard, was especially loved by them, my wild, rowdy, and reckless brother of great strength and an unfailing sense of humor.
    How could they know of me, the Quiet One? He who walked in the shadows among the laurel sticks and stood alone on the balds when the sun was rising?
    "Hold your hand," I warned the Kickapoo.
    "They are enemies! I fear none of them!"
    "I know you do not fear and they know it as well, but if you would live, hold your hand and be guided by me. I am not their enemy and they shall know it."
    "Is it that you fear?"
    "If you walk beside me you shall see if I fear, but if they will permit I shall be a man of peace. I have no feud with the Cherokee."
    "They need no feud. A scalp is a scalp."
    My friend the Kickapoo was no fool, but we had no choice. The friendship of the red man was based upon different considerations than with us, although there were places where our trails of belief crossed. It behooves one to be wary when among strangers and not to trust too much.
    To the shore we were guided, and when we drew our canoes up on the land one of my captors reached for my bow. Their village was close-by.
    Drawing it away from him I stared into his eyes and said, "I am a friend. I am Sackett."
    The warrior's hand fell away."Sack-ett!" he exclaimed.
    "He is Sack-ett," another said. "He has the face of Sack-ett."
    "I do not know him," another said. "I do not see him."
    "We come as friends, to smoke with the Cherokee. Then we go to the Great River, and beyond."
    A Cherokee pointed at Keokotah. "He is Kickapoo. What do you with our enemy?"
    "When he is with me he is no enemy to the Cherokee. He is a great wanderer. Together we go beyond the Great River. Perhaps we shall cross the Far Seeing