by J. B. Jones
CHAPTER IV.
The retreat--Joe makes a mysterious discovery--Mary--A disclosure--Supper--Sleep--A cat--Joe's flint--The watch--Mary--The bush--Theattack--Joe's musket again--The repulse--The starting rally--Thedesperate alternative--Relief.
The guidance of Sneak was infallible. Ere long the party reached thevicinity of the river, which was indicated by the tall trees and thevalleys, and all apprehensions of immediate danger subsiding, theyslackened their pace.
Sneak, though not so much distressed as the panting horses, fell back,and entered into conversation with Boone relative to the probableoperations of the Indians, while Joe continued some little distance inadvance, apparently wrapped in contemplation of the recent scenes thathad so much astonished him. When he was within about a hundred pacesof his long-wished for home, he thought he saw an object moving aboutin front of the palisade. He checked his pony for an instant; butconvinced that the savages could not possibly have arrived already, heagain whipped onward, inclined to believe it to be nothing more than aphantom of the brain. But when he proceeded a few stops farther, hispony stopped suddenly and snorted, while a being, which he could notexactly define, was distinctly seen to rise up and glide swiftly outof view round the inclosure.
"Who's that!" shouted he, and at the same time looking eagerly back athis companions, whose near approach induced him to maintain hisposition.
"Go on, Joe! What's the matter?" remarked Glenn, the head of his steedhaving passed over the back of the pony as he stood across the pathand blocked up the way.
"I beg to be excused! As sure as I'm alive, I saw an Indian run roundtowards the gate!" replied Joe.
"Foller me," said Sneak, poising his spear in the air, and advancing.
"Thank Heaven, it's you!" exclaimed the mysterious object, comingforward fearlessly, on hearing the men's voices.
"Dod rot your cowardly skin!" said Sneak, after looking at theapproaching form and turning to Joe, "how dare you to be frightened atsich a thing as that--a female woman!"
"It was not me--it was my pony, you great--"
"What?" asked Sneak, sharply, turning abruptly round, as they pausedat the gate.
"You great long buffalo tapeworm!" said Joe, alighting on the side ofthe pony opposite to his quarrelsome companion, and then going forwardand opening the gate in silence.
"What brings thee hither at this late hour, Mary?" inquired Glenn, onrecognizing the ferryman's daughter.
"Nothing--only--I"--stammered the abashed girl, who had expected onlyto see our hero and his man.
"Speak out, lass, if you have any thing important to say," remarkedBoone, when they entered the inclosure, placing his hand encouraginglyon the girl's head.
Mary still hesitated, and Boone was no little puzzled to conjecturerightly what it was she intended to impart; but he was convinced itmust be something of no ordinary nature that would induce a maiden ofreputed timidity to leave her father's hut at a late hour of thenight.
"Now tell me, Mary, what it was you wished to say," remarked Glenn,addressing her in a playful tone, when they were seated in the house,and a lamp suspended against the wall was lighted.
"I did not expect to find Mr. Boone and Sneak with you--and now--"
"What?" inquired Glenn, much moved by her paleness, and the throbbingof her breast, which now seemed to be gradually subsiding.
"Nothing--only you and Joe are both safe now," she replied, with hereyes cast down.
"Were we in danger? How are we safe?" inquired Glenn, regarding herwords as highly mysterious.
"Everybody is safe where Mr. Boone is," replied Mary.
"But what was the danger, my pretty lass?" inquired Boone, playfullytaking her hand.
"Why Posin, one of father's boatmen--"
"Speak on, lass--I know Posin to be an unfeeling wretch, and ahalf-blood Indian; but he is also known to be a great coward, andsurely no harm could have been feared from him," said Boone.
"But I heard him speaking to himself when I was filling my pitcher atthe spring, and he was standing behind some rocks, where he couldn'tsee me, and didn't think any one was within hearing."
"What said he?" inquired Glenn, impatiently, and much interested inthe anticipated disclosure, for he had often remarked the satanicexpression of Posin's features.
"These were his words: 'The Osages will be here before to-morrowmorning. If Raven, the chief, will go halves with me, I'll tell himhow much money the young men have, and help to get it!' Such were hisvery words!" continued Mary, her dark eyes assuming a brightness, andher voice a boldness unwonted on ordinary occasions, as she proceeded:"He then started off towards the prairie with his rifle, and nobodyhas seen him since. I told father about it but he wouldn't believethere was any danger; and when night came, he told me not to beuneasy, but to sleep like a good girl. I did lie down, for I neverlike to disobey my father; but I couldn't sleep, and so I got up andcame here to wait till you returned, to tell you all about it."
"Thanks, Mary--I shall never forget your kindness," said Glenn, asmuch affected by her simplicity and gentleness as at the threateneddanger.
"You're a sweet lass; God bless you, Mary!" said Boone, kissing hersmooth forehead. "Now run home and go to sleep, child; we will be onour guard. As for you, your father is respected by all the Indians,and therefore your own safety will be best secured under hisprotection."
"I will accompany you to the hut," said Glenn, as the girl bid themgood night, and was about departing.
"Oh no--I'm used to going alone," said Mary, promptly declining theproposition.
"She speaks truly, and it is unnecessary," said Boone, as the maidenbowed and disappeared.
The party then fastened the gate and secured themselves within thestone house. Joe petitioned Glenn to permit him to bring in the dogs,and Sneak seconded the motion, proposing to lie with them before thefire.
After a hearty repast, Boone and Glenn retired to their couches inquest of repose, so much needed after the exercises of the day. Norwas it long before they were steeped in that deep and solemn slumberwhich throws a mysterious veil over the senses, obscuring from thevision all objects of an unpleasant nature, relieving the mind of thecares that may have pressed heavily upon it during the day, and at thesame time by the gentlest process refreshing and reinvigorating theweary faculties for renewed exertion.
Silence brooded over the fireside scene. The lamp threw a dim rayaround its small flame unruffled by the confined and motionless air.The fawn was coiled in a sleeping posture under its master's bed,while the kitten purred upon its velvet back. On one side of thehearth lay Sneak, his head pillowed upon one of the hounds, while theother slept against his back. Joe was the only one present who had notfallen under the magic influence of slumber. Hitherto he had yieldedto a more powerful impulse--that of the appetite--and he now sat upona low stool on the corner of the hearth opposite to Sneak, his backleaning against the side of the fireplace, holding in his left hand apewter platter, and in his right a rib of the deer he had killed, wellcooked, which he raised to his mouth occasionally, and sometimes atvery long intervals, between the approaches of the sleep which wasgradually overpowering him. Once, when his eyelids sank heavily andclosed, and the platter rested on his lap, and his right hand, stillclenching the savoury bone, fell powerless at his side--Ringwood, inhis hard breathing, chanced to snuff up some ashes that caused him tosneeze. Joe started at the sound, and after rolling his eyes roundonce or twice and finding all right, raised the bone once more to hismouth and set his jaws again in motion.
"Dod, man! are you going to chaw all night?" asked Sneak, awakened bythe motion of Ringwood, and looking up at the face of Joe inastonishment.
"I had nothing to eat all day," replied Joe, fishing for a crackerfloating in the greasy platter.
"But ain't you a-going to sleep some?" asked Sneak, halfunconsciously, the final utterance smothered in a guttural rumble ashe again sank back on his canine pillow.
"Yes, when I've got my supper," replied Joe lazily, and in
distinctly,with one end of the bone in his mouth. But it was not long before heagain nodded, and his hand with the bone in it was once more loweredsoftly down at his side. He was soon palpably fast asleep. And now thekitten, having finished its nap, came with a noiseless tread to thecomfortable fire, humming its low unvaried song; and, rubbing its softside against the head of Jowler, finally crouched down before theembers, with its feet drawn under it, and its eyes apparently watchingthe brilliant sparks that ever and anon flew up the chimney. But erelong it scented the well-flavoured viand that dangled in the vicinity,and after casting a glance at the face of Joe, and being satisfiedthat he was insensible to all external objects, stealthily began tognaw the end of the bone that rested on the hearth. As long as it hadin mind the fear of interruption, it was permitted to feastmoderately; but when its ravenous propensity urged it to more activeand vigorous operations, Joe once more opened his eyes, and afterlooking slowly around, but not down, again attempted to raise the ribto a is mouth.
"Hello!--augh! scat!" he cried, leaping up violently.
His first impression was that the Indians, about whom he had beendreaming, were upon him; his next that a rattlesnake clung to hisfinger; and finally, finding it to be the kitten bestowing somescratches on the hand that sought to bereave it of its prize, heuttered the latter exclamation, first in rage; but pleased that hiscondition was no worse, soon after called the poor frightened pet tohim, and with one or two caresses gave it the bone, and then resignedhimself to unrestrained slumber.
They were all aroused in the morning by the snorting of the horseswithout, and the growling and sharp yelping of the hounds within.
"What's the matter with the horses and dogs, Joe?" inquired Glenn,rising from his couch.
"I don't know what ails the foolish things. I know that I fed thehorses; and as for Ringwood and Jowler, I'll soon kick them out. Letgo my ankle!" exclaimed he, turning to Sneak, who caught hold of himas he rose to approach the door.
"Don't open the door yet," said Boone, who had been listening to thesounds outside, and then continued in an under tone, addressing Glenn:"They are certainly here; but whether or not with an evil intent I amunable to determine."
"Oh goodness! It's the Indians!" exclaimed Joe, yielding to suddenalarm, having momentarily forgotten the anticipated danger when heproposed opening the door.
"Keep your mouth shet!" said Sneak, listening with his ear placed nearthe floor behind the door.
"How many do you make them out to be?" inquired Boone, when Sneak hadoccupied his position a few minutes.
"It's all right!" replied Sneak, eagerly; "there is only two or threeof 'em, and old Roughgrove's out there talking to 'em! How do you openthe door? Let me out!"
The door was opened with reluctance and cautiously by Joe, and Sneakgoing foremost all the party sallied out into the fresh air. A snow ofseveral inches in depth had fallen, and within the circle enclosed bythe palisade not a single track was to be seen. But when the gate wasdrawn back, several Osage Indians were observed standing a few pacesdistant with their tomahawks hung in their belts and instead ofexhibiting any symptoms of hostility, they approached smiling, andextended the hand of friendship to the whites.
"How do!" exclaimed the leader, in imperfect English, grasping thehands held out in salutation, while his actions were imitated by theothers in silence.
"I'm very well, I thank you," said Joe, bowing and retreatingbackwards when they accosted him, unwilling to venture his hand withintheir reach, as Glenn and the rest did.
"Shake hands with them, you silly fellow," said Boone, "or they willthink you are an enemy."
"Here, Mr. Osage!" said Joe, his teeth chattering as he extended hishand; and the Indian, perceiving his alarm, squeezed it so tightly formerriment that he was on the eve of crying out; and when liberated, hesprang violently back, much inclined to run away, to their greatamusement.
"That is Raven, the chief," remarked Roughgrove to Glenn, pointing tothe one that first addressed them, and who was now conversing withBoone, whom he seemed to know, or to have been familiar with hischaracter, from his animated gestures and the excited expression ofhis features. Sneak stood in silence, a convenient distance apart,apparently gleaning intelligence from the conference. The chief (asare the members of this tribe generally) was extremely dark, tall,athletic, and wore a ferocious aspect, while the few followers withhim manifested a curiosity to examine the apparel and accoutrements ofthe whites, but without betraying any signs of an evil disposition.
"Are there not more of them in the vicinity?" inquired Glenn.
"Yes--quite a large party," said Roughgrove; "but Raven said he didnot wish to intimidate the whites by showing them, without firstextending the hand of friendship himself. They profess to entertainthe kindest feeling towards us, and propose through their chiefs totraffic their furs and moccasins for such goods as we may be disposedto give them in return."
"I do not see your oarsman, Posin," remarked Glenn, the disclosure ofMary occurring to him--and then accosted Mary herself, who now joinedthem with her eyes cast down in apparent bashfulness.
"His absence is a mystery to me," replied the old ferryman, "though Ido not attach the same importance to it that Mary does."
"Father"--uttered his daughter, and pausing in mingled timidity anddread, as if some undefinable forebodings of harm oppressed her.
"I'll be shot if I understand all this to my liking," said Sneak,staring at the great number of moccasin tracks that had been maderound the enclosure, which truly indicated that more than the fourchiefs present had been prowling there before daylight.
"Hush, Mr. Sneak!" said Joe; "they hear every word you say."
"Jest let me alone a minute," replied Sneak, getting down on his kneesand examining the various foot-prints with great minuteness. When herose he made some signs to Boone, which the others did not comprehend.
At this juncture several other Indians were seen to approach from thevalley above, where the party had encamped. These painted visitorslikewise came forward with sundry nods and gesticulations offriendship, at the same time exhibiting several furred articles ofcurious workmanship, and a few precious stones, as samples of whatthey wished to barter. A short conference then ensued between them andthe head chief, which terminated in a pressing invitation for thewhites to accompany them to their encampment.
"You may all do as you like--I shall stay here," said Joe, steppingback towards the gate.
"You are a coward, Joe!" said Glenn; "you may remain, however, toprevent them from pilfering any thing while we are away," and heturned towards the Indians for the purpose of accompanying them.
"Stay!" said Mary, in a distinct and startling tone.
"Why should we not go? We are armed, and could as easily withstand anattack in their encampment as elsewhere. If it be their determinationto do us harm, their numbers will enable them to accomplish theirpurpose notwithstanding all the opposition we can offer," said Glenn.
"There is no danger," said Roughgrove, endeavouring to extricate hisarm from the grasp of Mary, who strenuously held him back.
"I have a secret for thee, child," said Boone, beckoning the tremblinggirl to him.
"Oh, what is it? You will not let him--I mean my father, go amongthem, will you? _You_ know that Posin is away--perhaps in some ambush--"
"Hush child!" said Boone, in a low tone, and employing gestures thatled the savages to believe he was quieting her fears, while hewhispered a message in her ear that had a singular effect. Though verypale, the girl now smiled playfully, and returning to her father,said, in tones so low that no one else could hear, "Father, he saysyou must instantly cross the river for assistance--I will be safe,under _his_ protection, till you return."
"I'll do it!" replied Roughgrove, setting off towards the ferry. Butwhen he departed, the chief evinced much anger, and was only appeasedby the assurance that the old ferryman was gone for some articledesired by his child, and would return ere long.
The footprint which had so much att
racted Sneak was recognized by somepeculiar marks to be that of Posin, and when the discovery wascommunicated to Boone, he at once surmised that danger lurked in thevicinity; and the subsequent impatience on the part of the Indians tourge the whites to visit their camp, convinced him that some foultreachery had been concocted between the half-breed and the savages.He had also caught a glimpse of several armed Indians behind somebushes at no great distance from where he stood, notwithstanding Ravenhad asserted that the rest of his party were in their encampment; andwhen the chief grew angry, and almost menacing, on the withdrawal ofthe old ferryman, he resolved to adopt the surest means of safetywithout delay. No sooner was the ferry-boat seen to shoot out from theland than Boone motioned the whites to enter the inclosure. As theyturned towards the gate, the chief made a movement to intercept them;but Boone drew forth a brace of pistols that had been concealed underhis hunting-shirt, one of which he pointed at Raven, and with theother intimidated the rest who had advanced likewise, until hisfriends were all within the palisade.
Boone drew forth a brace of pistols that had beenconcealed under his hunting-shirt, one of which he pointed at Raven,and with the other intimidated the rest who had advanced on himself,until his friends were all within the palisade.--P. 56]
Boone did not wish to be the first to shed blood, and in their ownlanguage asserted as much to the savages; but at the same time hewarned them not to commit any violence in the settlement at theirperil. The chief had not thought there would be any necessity forbloodshed so soon, and perhaps not at all, if Glenn could be enticedfrom his house, while Posin and his comrades might obtain his money.
Nor did he expect to meet with Boone, (renowned among all the tribesfor his wisdom and prowess,) much less to be anticipated on the verythreshold of the enterprise. His rage grew intense on finding himselfoutwitted and defied. He drew forth his tomahawk, and though notventuring to throw it, (for he perceived Glenn and Sneak behind, withtheir guns in readiness to fire,) he shook it threateningly at Booneas he closed the gate, and then strode away sulkily in the directionof the bushes, where some of his followers had been seen partiallyconcealed.
When the gate was secured, the inmates of the little fort crowdedabout Boone and overwhelmed him with questions.
"Do you think they can get over the posts?" inquired Joe.
"Will they come before father returns?" asked Mary.
"Do you think they will attack us at all?" interrogated Glenn.
"There can be no doubt of it," replied Boone; "but if we do our duty,I think we shall be able to resist them. We must be ready to defendourselves, at all events--and in the mean time we must watch throughthe loopholes on every side to prevent a surprise." This was hardlyspoken before an arrow whizzed over their heads, and, striking againstthe stone wall of the house, fell at the feet of Joe.
"Ugh! look at that!" cried he, leaping some ten feet away.
"Go in, child--and the rest to their posts!" remarked Boone, first toMary, and then addressing the men.
"Yes--_do_ go in, Miss!" cried Joe, forcing Mary into the house, wherehe also seemed determined to remain himself.
"Come out here!" cried Sneak, going to the door.
"Wait till I screw a flint in my musket," said Joe.
"You can see better out here," replied Sneak.
"But I haven't found the flint yet," answered Joe.
"He's a coward!" said Sneak, turning away and going to his post,whence he could watch the valley below.
Boone's station was on the opposite side, in the direction of thesupposed encampment of the Indians. But not a savage could now beseen, and the arrow that fell among them had evidently been dischargedfrom a great distance above.
"Shall we fire if any of them come within the range of our guns?"inquired Glenn, from his position on the east, which overlooked thecliff.
"Certainly," replied Boone; "the arrow was their declaration of war,and if they are again seen, it will be in a hostile attitude. Watchclose, Sneak!" he cried, as another shaft flew over the palisade fromthe valley below, and penetrated the wood but a few feet above hishead.
"Come out to your post, Joe!" cried Glenn, impatiently.
"I will presently--as soon as I get my gun fixed," replied Joe.
"If you do not come forth instantly, I'll thrust you out of theinclosure!" continued Glenn, somewhat fiercely.
"Here I am," said Joe, coming out, and making an effort to assume abold bearing: "I'm ready now--I only wanted to fix my gun--who'safraid?" saying which, he strode in a stooping posture to the loopholeon the west of the inclosure.
While the whole male force of the garrison was required to act assentinels, Mary, whose trepidation had been succeeded by deliberateresolution, was busily employed moulding bullets.
An hour passed, and no Indians had yet been seen, although anoccasional arrow assured the besieged party that the enemy stillremained in the immediate vicinity. They cleared away the snow attheir posts, and placing dry straw to stand upon, prepared to continuethe watch throughout the day and night. Nor were they to suffer forfood; for Mary, though she had not been requested so to do, ere long,to their joyful surprise, came forth with a dinner handsomelyprovided, which she placed before them with a smile of satisfactionplaying on her lips, and entirely unmindful of the shafts thatcontinued to fly overhead, which either pierced the wood and remainedstationary, or fell expended and harmless at her feet.
Affairs thus remained till night, when the arrows ceased to fly. Therewas not a cloud in the heavens, and the moon rose up in purestbrightness. A breathless stillness pervaded the air, and no sound fora great length of time could be heard but the hooting of owls on theopposite side of the river, and the howling of wolves in the flatsabout a mile above.
"I'm not a bit cold--are you?" said Joe, addressing Sneak.
"Dad! keep an eye out!" replied Sneak, in a low tone.
"There's nothing out this way but a bush. But I declare it seems to bebigger and nigher than it was in the daytime," said Joe.
"Don't speak so loud," remarked Boone, crossing to where Joe stood,and looking through at the bush.
"It's nothing but a bush," said Joe.
"Do you wish to kill an Indian?" inquired Boone.
"I wish they were all worms, and I could get my heel on them!" saidJoe.
"That would be cruel--but as any execution we may now do, is in ourown defence, you may fire at that bush if you like," continued Boone.
"Well," said Joe; and taking deliberate aim, discharged his musket asdirected, and was knocked down on his back in the snow by the rebound.
"Plague take the gun!" said he, recovering his feet; "but I rememberit had two loads in--I forgot it was charged, and loaded it again. Ha!ha! ha! but what's become of the bush?" he continued jocularly, notthinking he had fired at an Indian.
"Look for yourself," replied Boone.
"Hang me if it ain't gone!" exclaimed Joe.
"Ay, truly it is; but had you hit the mark, it would have fallen. Itwas rather too far, however, even for your musket," said Boone,returning to his former position.
"You are the poorest marksman that ever I saw, or you'd 'ave killedthat red rascal," said Sneak, coming up to Joe, and finding where thebush had been.
"I didn't know it was any thing but a bush--if I'd only known it wasan Indian--"
"You be hanged!" replied Sneak, vexed that such a capital opportunityshould be lost, and petulantly resuming his own station.
An intense silence succeeded the discharge of Joe's gun, after thetremendous report died away, in successive reverberations up and downthe river, and over the low wood land opposite. The owls and wolveswere hushed; and as the watchful sentinels cast their eyes over thesnow, on which the calm rays of the moon rested in repose, there wasnot the least indication of the presence of a dangerous foe.
Joe leant against the palisade, holding with one hand the breech ofhis gun, while the barrel was thrust through the loophole, and seemedto be indulging in a peculiar train of reflections.
> "Now, I'd much rather be in Philadelphia," said he, in a voice butlittle louder than a, whisper, and unconscious of giving utterance tohis thoughts--"a great deal rather be there--in some comfortableoyster-cellar--than standing out here in the lone wilderness, up to myknees in snow, and expecting every minute to have a poisoned arrowshot through my head. Hang it all! I wonder what pleasure Mr. Glenncan enjoy here? Suppose, now, while I'm standing here thinking, anarrow should dart over the, other side, and stick five or six inchesinto me? I hope they keep a careful look-out. And that reminds me thatI ought to keep an eye out myself, for fear some one may he pinkedfrom my side." He applied his eye to the hole, and continued in thesame strain: "I don't see a single living thing; maybe they've allgone off. If they have, I'll deserve all the credit, for I'm the onlyperson that shot at them. And I don't think that long hatchet-faceSneak will think that I'm a coward any more. But these savages arestrange beings; I had no more idea that the bush hid an Indian thanthat there's one not ten feet off now, under the snow. And if wehadn't found him out he might have crawled up and shot me in the eyethrough this hole. I won't hold my eye here all the time!" said he,rising, and to his astonishment Sneak stood at his elbow, whither hehad glided softly, his quick ear having caught the hum of Joe'ssoliloquy, and his curiosity leading him to find out the meaning ofthe mysterious jargon of his companion-in-arms.
"Of all the men I ever saw you are the dod-rottedest!" exclaimedSneak, after staring at him a few moments in silent wonderment, andthen striding back to his post.
"I should like to hear that sentence parsed," said Joe, looking afterhim.
The hours wore on in peace, until midnight, when a low chattering,like that of a squirrel, was heard in the valley below; while a shrillwhistling, resembling that of quails was distinguished above.
"Come hither!" exclaimed Boone in a whisper to Glenn.
"Do you see any of them?" inquired Glenn, joining his friend.
"Not yet--but we will see enough of them presently. The sounds in thevalleys are signals, and they will attack us on these sides. You mayabandon your watch on the east, and assist me here."
"And you may come and spell me," said Sneak to Joe.
"I must not desert my post," said Joe.
"If you stay there, you'll be dead sure to be shot!" replied Sneak.
"You don't think they're coming back, do you?" inquired Joe, glidingswiftly to Sneak's side.
"They'll be on us in no time. Is your gun loaded?
"I declare I have forgotten whether I loaded it again or not!" saidJoe.
"You're, a purty feller, to watch with an empty gun, now ain't you?Never mind blowing in her--run down a cartridge as quick as you kin;it makes no odds how much you have in; a big noise will do as muchgood as any thing else," said Sneak, hurriedly, evidently expecting tosee the savage enemy every moment, while Joe did his bidding,asserting all the time that he believed his musket was already loaded,and expressing a decided dislike to being kicked over every day fromovercharging.
As Boone predicted, but a very short time elapsed before a series ofstartling and frightful yells were heard below, which were answered bysimilar horrid sounds above. Joe first ran towards Boone and Glenn,and then sprang back to his place at the side of Sneak, fullyconvinced there were no means of retreat, and, being effectuallycornered, at length evinced an ardent desire to fire. When the yellsdied away in the distance, a flight of arrows from the north southpoured upon the besieged party. Many of them pierced the outer side ofthe palisade, while others, flying over, penetrated the oppositetimbers, and quivered above the heads of the men; and some rattledagainst the top of the house, (the snow having melted from the roof,)and fell harmless to the earth.
There having been no shot yet fired in the direction whence the arrowscame, (for such was the order of Boone,) the savages, emboldened bythe absence of any demonstrations of resistance, and thinking theirfoes were shut up in the house, or killed by their numberless shafts,charged upon the premises simultaneously from both sides, shootingtheir arrows and yelling as they came. When they had approached withina hundred paces of the inclosure, Boone and Sneak fired with deadlyaim at the foremost of the party, and the next moment Glenn followedthe example, while Boone reloaded his gun.
"Now fire!" exclaimed Sneak, shaking Joe by the shoulder, having seenthe savages pause when one of their party uttered the death-howl andfell.
"Here goes!" said Joe, pulling the trigger and falling over on hisback in the snow from the rebound, for the musket had been truly twicecharged.
"Split me if you didn't accidentally throw a handful of bullets amongtheir legs that crack!" said Sneak, observing the now discomfited andretreating Indians, as they endeavoured to bear off their wounded, andthen firing on them again himself as they vanished down the valley.The like result was witnessed above, and again in a very short timethere was not a savage to be seen.
"What's the matter? Why don't you get up?" asked Sneak turning to Joe,who still remained prostrate on the ground.
"My mouth's bleeding--I don't know but I'm wounded. Didn't an arrowcome through the hole when I was shooting?" asked Joe, risingpartially up and spitting out a quantity of blood on the snow.
"It was nothing but the gun kicking you like it did in the bear hunt.If it was an arrow you must have swallered it, for I don't see theshaft. But maybe you did--you're sech a gormandizer," said Sneak.
"Hang it all, I don't believe I'm much hurt!" exclaimed Joe, jumpingup suddenly. "Get from before the hole!" he continued, ramming down acartridge hastily, and thrusting out the muzzle of his gun.
"Why don't you blaze away?" asked Sneak, laughing, observing that hehesitated.
"Why, they're, all gone!" cried Joe, joyfully, "and it was my oldcannon that swept them off, too."
Once more silence pervaded the scene. Boone, after the repeatedsolicitations of Mary, partook of another bountiful repast, and theothers in turn likewise refreshed themselves, and then resumed thewatch.
Nor was it long before the Osages were once more heard to howl likefiends, and the sound had hardly ceased to vibrate through the airbefore a singular and unexpected assault terrified the besieged partyfor a moment. This was a shower of _blazing arrows_ coming from below,(where all the savages now seemed to be collected,) which ignited thepalisade in many places where the snow had fallen off. But the firewas easily extinguished, and all, with the exception of Boone, weredisposed to attach but little importance to any further device of theenemy. Boone, on the contrary, was unusually grave, and requested hiscompanions to be on the alert, or they would yet be the victims of thesavages.
"I like these kind of arrows the best," said Joe, "for I can see howto dodge them."
"But the wooden slabs can't dodge--dod! they're afire on the outsidenow!" cried Sneak, truly discovering a flame reaching above theinclosure from without.
"Watch well from the loopholes!" cried Boone, throwing open the gateand rushing out, and running round to where the fire was crackling."Come, Sneak!--I want your assistance--quick!" he exclaimed, findingthe flames making rapid progress.
"Keep your eye skinned now!" said Sneak, as he left Joe alone to watchfor the Indians, and ran out to aid in subduing the fire.
The savages could evidently see what was transacting, although unseenthemselves, for most of their arrows now seemed to be directed atthose without.
"Look sharp!" said Boone to Joe, through the loophole.
"Let me assist!" cried Glenn, imprudently leaving his post in hiseagerness to share the danger, and coming out with a spade.
"Go in, my friend--we are sufficient here," said Boone, addressingGlenn.
"Come in! come in! come in!" cried Joe.
"I see no Indians," remarked Boone.
"The house is on fire! Fire! fire! fire!" screamed Joe, falling intohis old habit when in the city.
Glenn ran back in this emergency, but when he arrived within theinclosure, he found that this service had been anticipated by Mary,who had quietly thrust her hands into the snow
, and with balls thusmade, easily extinguished the fire on the roof.
When Boone and Sneak had effected their purpose, they repaired totheir former positions, assured that the utmost caution must beobserved to prevent a surprise from some unexpected quarter, whiletheir attention was naturally directed to one particular point. Butthey had hardly resumed their stations before their ears were salutedby the joyful report of rifles in the valley. Relief was at hand.Roughgrove had recrossed the river, with a party of recruits, andfallen upon the rear of the savages, at a moment when success seemedto smile on their sanguinary purpose. Their shouts of exultation atthe prospect of firing the premises were now changed to howls ofdespair, and they fled in all directions. But Roughgrove, aware of theimpolicy of pursuit, led his men directly to the gallant littlegarrison; and the victorious huzzas of his band were answered in likemanner by the besieged, who came forth and gave them a cordialwelcome. Never, perhaps, when they met, did hand grasp hand moreheartily. But Mary, who had hitherto cast aside all the weaker fearsof the woman, no sooner beheld her aged father in safety than sherushed into arms and fainted on his breast.