Wyoming

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

  Stationing himself close to Mr. Brainerd, who was lying on his face withhis rifle cocked and extended in front, he also raised the hammer of hisgun and whispered:

  "Sh! I thought I saw an Injin's top-knot then!"

  "Look out he doesn't shoot you wid it," laughed Gimp. "Dere's no tellin'what dey'll fire wid, and--"

  "That's enough of that," interposed Mr. Brainerd, sternly. "This is notime for mirth. There _are_ Indians out there, and I saw the head of onebut a second ago."

  "What did I tell you?" demanded Habakkuk. "You won't feel like laughinga few minutes from now."

  At this moment perfect silence fell on all, for they saw that Mr.Brainerd had discovered something unusual and alarming.

  More than that, he was taking deliberate aim at some object, onlypausing long enough to make sure that when he fired the ball should notmiss.

  CHAPTER XXI.

  The finger of Mr. Brainerd was pressing the trigger, and the hammer withits cumbrous flint was on the very eve of descending, when he suddenlyreleased the pressure, and gave utterance to a peculiar half-chuckle.Those who were gazing along the line of direction indicated by thegleaming rifle-barrel, saw at the point where the Seneca was expected toappear, something which looked very much like the forerunner of thatinteresting person.

  It was the top-knot and crown of an Indian, with several gaudy feathersprojecting slightly beyond the wall of rock, the appearance suggestingthat he was gathering himself for a spring.

  This was the belief of the patriot, and, confident that at such a shortdistance he could not miss, he was about to fire, when there came aflash of suspicion that a sharp, but by no means original, trick wasbeing tried on him.

  The action was not precisely that of a real Indian while trying to peeraround a dangerous point, and most probably was intended to draw thefire of the sentinel.

  As soon as the bullet should leave the ready rifle, the waiting warriorwould either leap or run the few intervening feet, and reach thevantage-ground before the other two rifles in the company could be aimedand fired.

  "Why don't you shoot?" whispered Habakkuk, "you've got him dead sure."

  "_That isn't an Indian_," was the response, "but there will be one insight pretty soon. All of you keep well back out of the way, where thereis no danger of being hit, and leave this fellow to me."

  The situation of the settler was trying. Lying flat on his face, withhis gun cocked and pointed toward a certain spot, he watched with suchintensity that in the fading light his sight threatened to fail him.Odd, flickering figures danced before him, and sometimes rock, wood, andsky were so jumbled together, that he had to glance in anotherdirection, until he could recover his visual strength.

  The wily Seneca, having failed to draw his shot, was now likely toattempt some other stratagem.

  Furthermore, the massacre of Wyoming was still going on, and thisformidable body had not the patience to shut themselves out from theirshare in it.

  In one sense it was tying themselves up to remain for hours, besieging alittle company of fugitives, and, therefore, they were likely to displayless indifference to the passage of time than is the rule with theirrace.

  Such was the conclusion of Mr. Brainerd, and we may as well say he wascorrect.

  All at once the figure of an Indian warrior was seen against the sky,and the next instant he made a leap like a panther, his fine athleticform with his legs and arms gathered being seen for an instantapparently poised in mid-air, as he made his swift bound for the pointbehind the column of rocks, which, once secured, placed the life ofevery one of the patriots at his mercy.

  But, while the lithe Seneca hung thus, for one moment, between heavenand earth, he emitted a screech, his limbs were thrown out convulsively,and, striking the point at which he aimed, he rebounded like a ball, andwent tumbling to the bottom.

  Mr. Brainerd had fired at the very crisis, and his aim was unerring.

  "Let me have your gun," said he, reaching for the weapon in the hand ofMcEwen, while he kept watch of the point where the Seneca had appearedand disappeared with such suddenness.

  The New Englander passed the rifle to the settler, saying:

  "It won't fail you."

  "Please reload mine."

  Habakkuk did as requested, and they exchanged weapons again.

  The supposition of Mr. Brainerd was, that the shot he had fired wouldkeep the Indians at bay for a considerable while, though he knew betterthan to trust to any such probability.

  The gun that had served him so well was in his grasp again, and afeeling of self-confidence came with it.

  Much less time had passed since the disaster to the patriots on theother side the Susquehanna than would be supposed; but, while thesettler lay stretched out on the rock, watching for the second Indian,he became aware that he was watching by the aid of moonlight andstarlight alone.

  It was all the harder to keep close guard, but it was indispensable, andhe doubted not that when he pulled trigger a second time another Senecawould take a header down the ravine.

  Some fifteen minutes passed, when Mr. Brainerd either saw, or fancied hesaw, a precisely similar fluttering movement as preceded the leap of himwho fell a victim to his marksmanship.

  He held his gun pointed, the hammer raised, and his finger on thetrigger, ready to fire the second it should become necessary.

  He was not kept waiting; sooner than he anticipated, the crouchingfigure shot out into the air, as if propelled from a catapult, and,with the same remarkable aim, the patriot pulled the trigger at themoment the warrior was at the arch of the brief parabola.

  But, to his consternation, the powder flashed in the pan, and nodischarge followed the dull click of the flint.

  CHAPTER XXII.

  With the body of the Seneca covered by the rifle of Mr. Brainerd thelatter pulled the trigger, at the very moment the body was in mid-air,but the gun was undischarged.

  Habakkuk McEwen, in his flurry, had rammed down the bullet first, andthe weapon was useless until the ball was extracted.

  Where the elder had shown such vigilance, it was singular that he hadforgotten to take a very simple precaution--he should have had theAfrican or New Englander covering the same point, and arranged that oneshould fire with him.

  The intervening space was so brief there was no excuse for missing, andsuch a catastrophe could have been averted.

  But though Mr. Brainerd's piece failed him, the second Indian emittedthe same shriek, and went sprawling to the bottom, shot directly throughthe body.

  "What the mischief have you done with my gun?" demanded Mr. Brainerd,flinging the weapon behind him; "let me have the one in your hand;there's something wrong with mine; draw out the charge and fix it."

  "My gracious!" exclaimed the astounded Gimp, "what does _dat_ mean?"

  "What does _what_ mean?"

  "Why did dat Injin turn back summersets, and whoop it up in dat style,when your gun flashed in de pan?"

  "_Somebody_ shot him."

  "But who was he?"

  Mr. Brainerd made no reply, for he had none to make. Some unknown friendhad fired the second shot, that prevented the warrior obtaining afoothold where it would have been fatal to the whites.

  As to the identity of the friend, that could not be guessed.

  The explanation upon which all agreed was, that some other settlers--oneor more--had taken shelter somewhere in the vicinity, and had fired,either as a matter of self-protection, or for the benefit of those inthe cavern.

  Precisely how it should become necessary for some one to shoot thewarrior, as a means of defense, was more than could be explained.

  Another strange fact about it was, that Maggie Brainerd and Aunt Peggyinsisted that, instead of being discharged from some point beyond and onthe other side of the rocks, the marksman was perched directly over theheads of those in the cavern.

  Where there were so many boulders and trees, the short echoes might wellproduce confusion, but the two ladies were positive that the man wasimmediat
ely above them.

  Gravity Gimp was inclined to the same opinion, and Mr. Brainerd waspuzzled more than ever.

  "I not only heard the gun," said Maggie, with great positiveness, "but Iheard the man himself moving up there."

  "That is impossible, my daughter," protested her father, feeling it hadnow become safe, for the first time, to relax his vigilance.

  "Not at all," she replied, "you can hear plainly through a solidsubstance, and I caught a sound made by that man's shoe scraping overthe rocks."

  It was scarcely credible, and yet, knowing Maggie for the clear-headedgirl that she was, her father could not doubt her assertion.

  It was a vast relief to discover they had such an ally so close at hand,though there remained the element of doubt as to how much further hishelp would extend.

  Twilight was ended at last, and the solemn night brooded over the scene.

  "Better to be shot to the death here where we are," was the thought ofMr. Brainerd, "than to fall into their hands, and such shall be ourfate, if it comes to a choice between the two."

  But for all that, the conviction was strong upon him that the onlypossible hope for him and his dear ones was to get them all out of thatplace, and well on the way through the "Shades of Death," before therising of the morrow's sun.

  They could not leave during the daytime, when, under the full glare ofthe noonday sun, and with such leisure at their command, the Indianswould find some way of intrenching themselves behind the column ofrocks, without being exposed to the fire of the sentinel or sentinels,as the case might be.

  Besides this, it was hardly to be expected that the unknown friend wouldbe able to hold his own position in the daytime.

  But how to leave the spot was the all-important question.

  It would not do to move up the path by the way they came, for, even withthe protecting shadow, they would be seen and would walk into the web,like so many flies.

  As the path ended at the front of the cavern, no progress could be madein that direction, but the patriot believed that by picking his way downthe rocks to the bottom of the ravine, as he was certain could be done,some new route might be opened.

  It was necessary, however, to make a reconnoissance before venturingforth. Who was the right person to do it?

  Beyond question, Habakkuk McEwen was the man.

  "See here," said Mr. Brainerd, coming to the point at once, as was hiscustom, "it may as well be understood that if we remain until the sunrises there will be no hope of our ever getting away."

  Perfect silence followed this remark, and waiting only long enough forit to produce its effect, he added:

  "Some one must steal out of the cavern, and learn whether any path isopen by which we can get away. I would not hesitate to go, but oursafety depends on guarding this point, where one of them may appear.Gravity is too slow, and I must therefore request you, Habakkuk, to actas our scout."

  "Well, well!" exclaimed the startled man. "It'll never do for _me_ to godown among the Injins."

  "You needn't go down among them--but are to make sure whether there is achance for us to steal away, under the protection of the shadow whichnow incloses us."

  "I'd like to oblige you, but it won't do--why," he added, starting upwith the idea, "it always makes me dizzy to go prowling around in themoonlight. I'd be sure to fall over the rocks and break my leg, andthen how would you feel?"

  "Sorry because it wasn't your neck," retorted Mr. Brainerd, whoconcluded that the man was not such a re-enforcement after all, as heappeared from his own account to be; "your presence with us is anincumbrance, and I should be highly gratified if you would depart andnever show yourself again. I will go myself."

  He called to Gravity to take his place as sentinel, with his gun pointedout where the foe was likely to appear, but Eva, Maggie, and Aunt Peggywould not permit any such course.

  The father had gone to the verge of endurance during the day. He waspast fifty, quite bulky in figure, and about the only qualification hepossessed for the self-appointed task, was his courage.

  The three compelled the old gentleman to yield, and Maggie, with theshrewdness natural to her sex, turned to Habakkuk, who was standing atone side, and laying her pretty hand on his shoulder, said:

  "Habakkuk, you think a good deal of me, don't you?"

  He held off a second or so, while she turned her winsome face up to hisin the gloom. He meant to sulk and compel her to coax him, but his heartgave a big jump at the touch of that hand, and, when he was able to seevery faintly that countenance so close to his own, it was more than heor any sensible person could stand.

  His face suddenly expanded into an all-embracing grin, and he madeanswer:

  "Think a good deal of you, Maggie, you dear, sweet, angelic angel. Why,I worship the ground you walk on; all I came here for was to see you. Idon't care a blamed cent for the others."

  "If you think so much of me, then, won't you take some risk for my sake,as well as that of the others?"

  "Of course I will; it will delight me--"

  "Then do as father requested you."

  "And go prowling outside among the Indians and Tories?"

  "Of course."

  "I'll be hanged if I will!" was the response, as Habakkuk stepped back;"a chap hain't got but one life, and if I should lose that, what goodwould I ever be to myself or any one else? You wouldn't be able tobecome my bride."

  "But it will be dangerous to stay here, and if you go out and be carefulit may be the means of saving us all."

  "I tell you, dear Maggie, I would do so if it wasn't because I know Iwould become dizzy; it would be sure to come on me; I feel it coming onme now--there! catch me--hold me--"

  He staggered toward her, throwing out his arms, and trying to measurethe distance so as to fling his grasp about her, but she stepped back,and he went to the ground.

  "Keep away from me!" she said, disdainfully; "if there is any creaturein this world which I despise, it is that person who speaks a falsehoodto escape duty."

  "You'll be sorry for this some day, dear Maggie."

  She stamped her foot so angrily, and her father showed such adisposition to interfere, that he checked himself.

  "I don't see why I ain't de gemman after all dat's to do dis thing,"said Gravity.

  Habakkuk McEwen slapped him on his broad shoulder.

  "The idee exactly! one reason why I thought best to decline--though Ididn't say so--was through the fear of hurting your feelings, Gravity--"

  "Dat needn't trouble you; you kin go now, and I won't feel slighted."

  "You've an advantage over us all, for you're so black that wherever yougo you will carry the darkness with you, and the Injins will see nothingbut so much shadow gliding along."

  "Dat may all be, but s'pose dey should take a notion to fling theirtomahawks into de shadder, what will become ob _dis_ person?"

  "If you are careful, you won't be hurt; if it wasn't for my weakness ofdizziness, I would jump at the chance--"

  "If I hear anymore such stuff," interrupted Mr. Brainerd, "I'll pitchyou neck and heels out of here."

  "Then I guess you won't hear any more," was the prudent thought ofHabakkuk.

  As the African was so willing to go, it was decided to permit him tomake the attempt.

  The head of the party based little hope on the venture of his servant,and indeed doubted whether they would ever see him again, but, for thatmatter, there was little choice between the situation of any one or twoof them.

  Calling Gravity to him, his employer said:

  "You show a great deal more courage and manliness than most of youracquaintances give you credit for. I can only tell you to do your best,as you always do."

  "How shall I got away widout being seed?"

  "That's the trouble, but you know this side of the ravine is in deepshadow, and I think if you move slowly up the footpath we followed incoming here, you won't be seen."

  "Dat's jis what I'll do, den--good-bye." And before any one suspectedit, the African was
gone.

  As the faithful fellow was running such risk, Mr. Brainerd creptforward, and with some danger to himself thrust his head and shouldersout, so as to watch the actions of his servant.

  Gimp assumed a crouching posture, and began moving up the narrow,sloping path like the shadow that creeps over the face of the dial.

  "I wonder whether it is possible to see him," the elder one askedhimself, with a pang of fear, as he looked across the brief interveningspace; "it hardly seems credible that they would leave the door wideopen in that manner."

  But speculation was useless: Gimp was outside the cavern, and if reallydetected by the watchful red men, he was beyond help.

  Mr. Brainerd could hear the rustling of the African's body as he slowlyglided along, often loosening the dirt and gravel with his hands andknees, and sending it rolling down toward the mouth of the cavern, butthere came no sign from the rocks beyond, where it was believed the mainbody of their enemies was gathered.

  Like a huge turtle the bulky negro climbed the steep path, until hisoutlines were lost in the gloom as he neared the top, and his masterdrew back into the cavern and wondered what it could mean.

  If a man could walk from the cavern in that fashion, why might not theentire party, one after the other, file out in the same manner?

  This was a natural question, but the settler was too wise to believe theattempt was feasible.

  There would be nothing extraordinary in the fugitives' going to the topof the path without molestation, but it would be absurd to suppose theycould walk off into the woods undisturbed, when such a vigilant foe wasin watch for them.