XXIII
HOW WE KEPT THE FEAST OF BITTER HERBS
You may be sure that Richard Jennifer's bitter reproachings came home tome in sharpest fashion, the more since now I saw how we had lost ourchance by neglecting the commonest precautions. Having determined toattack, the merest novice of a general would have moved his forces tothe nearest point; would have had his scouts search out the fordbeforehand; and, above all, would never have delayed the blow beyond theearliest moment of the enemy's unwatchfulness.
So now, when all was lost, I fell to kneading out this sodden dough ofafterwit with Ephraim Yeates; but when I sought to carry off the blameas mine by right, the old borderer would not give me leave.
"Fair and easy, Cap'n John; fair _and_ easy," he protested. "Let's givethat old sarpent, which is the devil and Satan, his dues. Ez I allow,there was the whole enduring passel of us to ricollact all them things.To be sure, we had our warnings, mistrusting all along that this heredad-blame' hoss-captain had his finger in the pie. But, lawzee! we hadne'er a man o' God 'mongst us to rise up and prophesy what was a-goingto happen if we didn't get up and scratch gravel immejitly, _if_ notsooner; though I won't deny that Cap'n Dick did try his hand that-away."
"True; and I would now we had listened to him," said I, gloomily enough."We have lost our chance, and God knows if we shall ever have another.Falconnet must have half a hundred men, red and white, in the powdertrain; and by this time he has learned from the Indian who reconnoiteredus on the mountain that we are within striking distance. With the enemyforewarned, as he is, we might as well try to cut the women out of myLord Cornwallis's headquarters."
The old man chuckled his dry little laugh, though what food formerriment he could find in the hopeless prospect was more than I couldunderstand.
"Ho! ho! Cap'n John; I reckon ez how ye're a-taking that word fromyonder down-hearted boy of our'n. Wait a spell till ye're ez old ez Ibe; then you'll never say die till ye're plumb dead."
Now, truly, though I was dismally disheartened, I could reassure him onthe point of perseverance. 'Tis an Ireton failing to lose heart and hopewhen the skies are dark; but this is counterbalanced in some of us by acertain quality of unreasoning persistence which will go on running longafter the race is well lost. My father had this stubborn virtue to thefull; and so had that old Ironside Ireton from whom we are descended.
"That's the kind o' talk!" was the old man's comment. "Now we'll set towork in sure-enough arnest. Ez I said a spell back, my stummick iscrying cupboard till I can't make out to hear my brain a-sizzling. Maybeyou took notice o' me a-praying down yonder that the good Lord'dvouchsafe to give us scalps _and_ provender. For our onfaithfulness He'sseed fit to withhold the one; but maybe we'll find a raven 'r two, or awidder's mite 'r meal-bar'l, somewheres in this howling wilderness,yit."
So saying, he summoned the Catawba with a low whistle, and whenUncanoola joined us, told him to stay with Jennifer whilst we shouldmake another effort to find the ford.
"There's nobody like an Injun for a nuss when a man's chin-deep intotrouble," quoth this wise old woodsman, when we were feeling our waycautiously along the margin of the swift little river. "If Cap'n Dickrips and tears and pulls the grass up by the roots, the chief'll onlysay, 'Wah!' If he sits up and cusses till he's black in the face, thechief'll say, 'Ugh!' And that's just about all a man hankers for whenhis sore's a-running in the night season, and all Thy waters have goneover his head. Selah!"
Now you are to remember the sky was overcast and the night was pitchydark, and how the old borderer could read a sign of any sort was farbeyond my comprehension. Yet when we had gone a scant half-mile alongthe river brink he stopped short, sniffed the air and stooped to feeland grope on the ground like a blind man seeking for something he hadlost.
"Right about here-away is where they made out to cross," he announced;"the whole enduring passel of 'em, ez I reckon--our seven varmints andthe hoss-captain's powder train. Give me the heft o' your shoulder tillwe take the water and projec' 'round a spell on t'other side."
We squared ourselves, wholly by the sense of touch, with the river'sedge, locked arms for the better bracing against the swift current, andso essayed the ford. It was no more than thigh deep, and though thewater lashed and foamed over the shoal like a torrent in flood, therewas a clean bottom and good footing. Once safe across, we turned ourfaces down-stream, and in a little time came to the deserted glade withthe embers of the kidnappers' fire glowing dully in the midst.
Here a sign of some later visitants than Falconnet's horsemen set uswarily on our guard. The tepee-lodge of dressed skins, which had beenleft undisturbed by the sham rescuers, had vanished.
"Umph! The redskins have been back to make sure o' what they leftbehind," said Yeates, in a whisper. "I jing! that's jest the one thing Iwas a-hoping they'd forget to do. I reckon ez how that spiles our lastliving chance o' finding anything that mought help slack off on thebelly-pinch."
So he said, but for this once his wisdom was at fault and tricky fortunefavored us. When we had found the covert in the bushes where the twohorses had been concealed we lighted upon a precious prize. 'Twas a bagof parched corn in the grain; some share of the provision of the captiveparty overlooked by those who had returned to gather up the leavings.
With this treasure-trove we made all haste to rejoin our companions. Andnow behold what a miracle of reanimation may be wrought by a fewhandfuls of bread grain! In a trice the Catawba had found a water-wornstone to serve for a mortar, and another for a pestle. These and the bagof corn were carried back to a sheltered ravine which we had crossed onour late advance; and here the Indian fell to work to grind the corninto coarse meal, whilst Yeates and I kindled a fire to heat thebaking-stones.
In these preparations for the breaking of our long fast even Richardbestirred himself to help; and when the cakes were baked and eaten--withwhat zestful sharp-sauce of appetite none but the famished may everknow--we were all in better heart, and better able to face the new andfar more desperate plight in which our lack of common foresight hadentangled us.
For now, since we knew the full measure of the peril menacing our dearlady, there was need for swift determination and a blow as swift andsure; a _coup de main_ which should atone in one shrewd push for thesleeveless failure of the night. So we would grip hands around, even tothe stolid Indian, and swear a solemn oath to cut the women out or elseto leave our bones to whiten in the forest wilderness.
You'll laugh at all these vowings and handstrikings, I dare say, andprotest there was a deal of such fustian heroics in your doddering oldchronicler's day.
Mayhap there was. But, my dears, I would you might remember as you laughthat we of that simple-hearted elder time lived by some half-centurynearer to that age of chivalry you dote on--in the story-books. Also, Iwould you might mingle with your merriment a little of the saving graceof charity; letting it hint that, perchance, these you call "heroics"were but the free, untrammeled folk-speech of that sincerer naturalheart which you have learned to silence and suppress. For I dare affirmthat now, as then and always, there will be some spark of the Prometheanfire in every heart of man or maid, else this would indeed be a sorryworld to live in.
So, as I say, we four struck hands anew on the desperate venture; and,after carefully burying the fire to the end that it might not betray uswhile we slept, we burrowed in the nearest leaf bed to snatch an houror two of rest before the toils and hazards of the chase should beginafresh.
In the thick darkness following hard upon the douting of the fire, I sawnot who my nearest bed-fellow might be. But ere I slept a hand was laidon my shoulder, and a voice that I knew well, said: "Are you waking yet,Jack?"
I said I was; and at that my poor lad would blurt out all his sorrow andshame for the mad fit of despair that had set him on to rail and curseme.
"You will say with good reason that I am but a sorry jockey for afriend--to fly out at you like a madman as I did," he added, by way offitting epilogue; and to this I gave him the answer he wishe
d, biddinghim never let a thought of it spoil him of the rest he needed.
"The debt of obligation and forgiveness is all upon the other side, asyou will some day know, Dick, my lad," said I, hovering, as a cowardalways will, upon the innuendo-edge of the confession he will nevermake.
He mistook the pointing of this protest, as he was bound to.
"Never say that, Jack. 'Twould be a dog-in-the-manger trick in me toblame you for loving her. And since you speak of debts, I do protest Iowe you somewhat, too. With so fair a chance to cut a clean swath inthat fair-weather month at Appleby Hundred, another man would have leftme scant gleanings in the field, I'll be bound; whereas--"
"Damn you!" I broke in roughly, "will you never have done and go tosleep?" And so, taking surly harshness for a mask when my heart was nighbursting with shame and grief, I turned my back and cut him off.
The Master of Appleby Page 25