Marching on Niagara; Or, The Soldier Boys of the Old Frontier

by Edward Stratemeyer

  CHAPTER XVIII

  WILDCAT AND WATER

  Dave was both startled and alarmed when the wildcat came down almost ontop of his bare head, and even more frightened when the beast made aleap for his naked shoulder. He had had several experiences withwildcats and knew them to be both powerful and bloodthirsty.

  By instinct more than reason he dived and went down as far as possible.As soon as the water closed over the wildcat's head it let go its holdand began to swim for the shore.

  Henry was directly in the path of the beast and in a second more, erethe young soldier had time to think of diving, the wildcat was on hisback, sinking its cruel nails deeply into his flesh.

  "Get off!" screamed Henry. "Get off! Help! help!"

  And then he went down, not because he thought of doing so, but becausehe could not bear the weight. The stream closed over him and he wentdirectly to the bottom.

  This time the wildcat did not let go its hold. It clung desperately andwhen Henry tried to shake it off it only sunk its nails deeper into hisflesh. Mechanically he started to scream, when the water rushed into hismouth, almost strangling him on the spot.

  By this time Dave had reached the surface, and the rings and bubblesshowed him plainly where Henry and the wildcat had gone down. With swiftstrokes he swam to the river bank, just as several rangers came runningto the scene.

  "Did you call for help?" asked one.

  "A wildcat!" panted Dave, hardly able to speak, and he pointed out intothe stream. "Sa--save my cousin!"

  "So a cat has attacked him, eh?" said one of the rangers. He raised hisgun. "Don't see anything of the critter."

  Just as he finished speaking there was a splash in the water and thehead of the wildcat appeared. Then up came Henry, and they saw that thebeast still clung to the young hunter's back.

  It was a risky shot to take, for youth and beast floundered aroundfuriously. But something had to be done, and in a second one gun-shotrang out, followed quickly by another. The aims of both rangers had beentrue, and the wildcat was struck in the forequarter and in the head.With a snarl and a sputter it let go its hold of Henry and splashedmadly around in the water.

  No cry came from Henry, but as soon as the beast had let go its hold hesank beneath the surface once more, too weak to do anything towardsaving himself.

  "He'll be drowned!" muttered Dave. "Save him!" And without waiting heplunged in the river once more.

  He felt deathly weak himself, but the thought that his cousin might belost forever nerved him on. With set teeth he swam to the spot. Catchingsight of Henry's arm as it was thrown up, he grabbed at the member andclung fast.

  "Henry, hold to me," he managed to say, but his cousin paid noattention, for he was more than half insensible. Then Dave tried toraise him up, but the weight was more than he could sustain.

  "Help us, somebody!" the young hunter managed to call out, and therefollowed a splash, as one of the rangers leaped into the river. Anothershot rang out, a finishing one for the wildcat, and the carcass of thebeast floated down the river and out of sight among the bushes liningthe opposite bank.

  By the time the ranger came up, Dave was nearly as far gone as Henry.The old soldier was a powerful fellow and easily brought both to thebank, which was only a short distance off. Here Dave sank down in aheap, while the other soldiers did what they could to revive Henry.

  The report that a wildcat had attacked some bathers quickly spreadthroughout the camp and many flocked in that direction to learn theparticulars. Both Dave and Henry were given the best of attention, andby the following morning each said he was able to resume his duties. Butboth were stiff from the treatment received from the wild beast and onHenry's neck were deep scratches which he was destined to carry with himto the grave.

  "After this I'm going to be mighty particular where I bathe," he said toDave, when on the march.

  "Yes, and particular where you dive from," returned Dave. "If you seeanother wildcat on your spring-board better let him finish his napwithout disturbing him."

  The march to Cumberland was more difficult than had been anticipated,and the young soldiers were glad when it came to an end and they foundthemselves encamped just outside of the fort, which both had visitedmore than once when on a trip to Will's Creek. Soldiers were coming infrom all directions, and soon the camp was full to overflowing.

  "Wonder how long we'll stay here," said Henry, after they had been atCumberland over a week. "I had an idea we were to march straight on toFort Duquesne."

  "There is some trouble over that new road to the fort," answered Dave."I understand Colonel Washington is awfully cut up over it. He thinksthey ought to use the old Braddock road and polish up the Frenchmen inshort order."

  "It was the delay that brought on defeat before, that's certain, Dave.It's a pity the British generals won't take Washington's advice."

  What Dave said about trouble over the road was true. The Braddock road,originally selected by the Indians, was as good as any to be had ormade, yet despite all arguments against it, it was decided to cut a newroad through to Fort Duquesne from Raytown. It was true such a roadwould be a little shorter than the old road, but to cut it would takeall summer and to keep up the campaign during the winter would bewell-nigh out of the question.

  When a part of the colonial troops, including the company to which Daveand Henry were attached, reached Raytown they found the new road alreadystarted, with two hundred men engaged in cutting down trees, removingbig stones, and burning brushwood. This was kept up week after week,and in the meantime the troops suffered greatly through sickness andlack of proper food. Many of the colonials grew disgusted at the slowprogress of the campaign and would have gone home had not the militaryregulations forbidden it.

  It was in the midst of this that Sam Barringford came in and hunted upHenry and Dave. "Thought you'd like to set eyes on me," he said, onshaking hands. "Jes' got in with Dave's father. We did some tall huntingI kin tell ye."

  "And Nell?" asked Henry, quickly.

  "She's a prisoner up to Fort Duquesne. We got thet putty straight."

  "Not of the French?"

  "No, of the Injuns hangin' around thar--the Jean Bevoir crowd, as Dave'sfather calls 'em--a bad lot, too."

  Barringford had decided to take part in the campaign now in progress andit can well be imagined that the two young soldiers were right glad tohave their trusty old friend with them once more.

  "It will seem like old times," said Dave. "If only we could move aheadto-morrow!"

  It was late in October when Dave brought in news. He rushed up to whereHenry and Barringford were industriously sewing up some holes in theirjackets.

  "Hurrah, we are to move at last!" he cried. "Major Grant is orderedahead with eight hundred men, and our company is to go with the body."

  "Only eight hundred," returned Barringford. "Thet ain't many. Kind o' ascoutin' party, I reckon."

  Yet, he too was glad to make a movement of any kind, and prepared atonce for the departure. Two days later the command was on the road,those left behind wishing them the best of success.

  The English were still many miles from Fort Duquesne when the Frenchscouts brought word to their commander that the enemy were approaching.Without waiting to be attacked the French marched forth to do theapproaching English battle.

  "The fight is on!" cried Dave, as several shots rang out from in front."We are in for it now!"

  "Well, we came to fight," answered Henry. "And the sooner the battle isover the better."

  The real battle, however, did not take place until the next day. Thenthe French did their best to surround the English, and in a short whilethe contest waxed hot on all sides. Part of the battleground was a smallopening and the rest of the fighting took place in the forest. Soon thesmoke became so thick that but little could be seen on either side.

  "Tell ye wot, them Frenchers mean business!" ejaculated Barringford,while reloading his firearm, which was so hot he could scarcely hold it."We've lost a sight o' men already." />
  What he said was true. The loss had been frightful, and the dead anddying lay on every side. Moans and shrieks rent the air, in a fashion toturn the stoutest heart sick. Major Grant rushed around heedless ofdanger, giving directions and doing all he could to encourage thoseunder him.

  "Don't retreat! The battle is ours!" he called out. "Stand where youare!" And then his voice was lost in the rattle of musketry and the madyelling of the Indians, who had come up to aid the French and steal whatthey could from the English.

  Dave, Henry and Barringford were behind a fallen tree, blazing away asrapidly as possible. The French were before them and the Indians ontheir left, and for some time it was as if pandemonium had broken loose.Suddenly Barringford gave a yell.

  "Duck, boys, duck!"

  They fell flat and not a second too soon, for half a dozen arrowswhizzed over their heads. Then the old frontiersman leaped to his feet.

  "I'll pay ye back!" he roared. "That fer ye, ye sarpints o' the EvilOne!"

  He took a quick but careful aim at the leader.]

  He took a quick but careful aim at the leader of the Indians, who wasrushing straight forward, with tomahawk lifted. The hammer of hisflint-lock musket fell. A terrific explosion followed and Barringfordwas hurled flat while Dave and Henry were also struck and knocked down.The gun had exploded.

  Then before any of the party could recover, the Indians were upon them,shouting like demons and flourishing their tomahawks and theirkeen-edged hunting knives.