The Forest Runners: A Story of the Great War Trail in Early Kentucky
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CHAPTER XX
THE TERRIBLE FORD
"The ford ain't much more than an hour's march farther on," said DickSalter to Daniel Poe, "an' the way to it leads over purty smooth groun'."
"And we have not seen anything of the warriors yet, except the trails ofsmall bands," said Daniel Poe hopefully. "It may be that our new friendsare mistaken."
Dick Salter shook his head.
"Tom Ross never makes a mistake in matters uv that kind," he said, "an'that boy, Henry Ware, couldn't ef he tried. He's wonderful, Mr. Poe."
"Yes," said Daniel Poe. "Nobody else ever made such an impression upon me.And the one they call Paul is a fine fellow, too. I wish I had a son likethat."
"He's the most popular fellow in the train already," said Dick Salter.
Both looked admiringly at Paul, who was walking near the head of the line,a group of lithe, strong-limbed boys and girls surrounding him andbegging him for stories of the wilderness. Paul remained with the train byarrangement. It was his business to cheer, invigorate, and hearten for agreat task, while his comrades roamed the forest and looked for the dangerthat they knew would surely come. Never did youth succeed better at hischosen task, as confidence spread from him like a contagion.
Paul presently quickened his steps, and came quite to the head of theline, where Daniel Poe and Dick Salter were walking, both circling theforest ahead of them with anxious eyes. They and Paul at the same time sawa figure emerge from the woods in front. It was Henry, and he was comingon swift foot. In an instant he was before them, and Paul knew by his lookthat he had news.
"They are waiting?" said Paul.
"Yes," replied Henry. "They are in the thickets at the ford, less than twomiles ahead."
Daniel Poe shuddered again--for the five hundred lives in his charge--andthen his heart rose. The waiting, the terrible suspense, were over, and itwas battle now. The fact contained relief.
"Shall we halt?" he said to Henry. Unconsciously, he, too, was submittingto the generalship of this king of forest runners.
"No," replied Henry; "we've got to go on some time or other, and they canwait as long as we can. We must force the passage of the ford. We can doit."
He spoke with confidence, and courage seemed to leap like sparks from himand set fire to the others.
"Then it's go ahead," said Daniel Poe grimly. "We'll force the passage."
"Put all the little children, and all the women who don't fight, in thewagons, and make them lie down," said Henry. "The men must swarm on eitherflank. My comrades will remain in the front, watching until we reach theriver."
Then a great bustle and the chatter of many voices arose; but it soon diedaway before stern commands and equally stern preparations, because theywere preparing to run as terrible a gantlet as human beings ever face,these dauntless pioneers of the wilderness. The children were quicklyloaded in the wagons, and all the weaker of the women; but with the men onthe flanks marched at least two-score grim Amazons, rifle in hand.
Then the train resumed its slow march, and nothing was heard but therolling of the wheels and the low cluck of the drivers to their horses.The way still led through an open, parklike country, and the road waseasy. Soon those in front saw a faint streak cutting across the forest.The streak was silvery at first, and then blue, and it curved away tonorth and south among low hills.
"The river!" said Daniel Poe, and he shut his teeth hard.
All the men and the Amazons drew a long, deep breath, like a sigh; butthey said nothing, and continued to march steadily forward. The riverbroadened, the blue of its waters deepened, and from the high ground onwhich they marched they could see the low banks on the farther shore,crowned by clustering thickets.
Three men emerged from the undergrowth. They were Tom Ross, Shif'less Sol,and Long Jim Hart. The shiftless one looked lazy and careless, and JimHart, stretching himself, looked longer and thinner than ever.
"We found it, Henry," said Ross. "Little more'n a mile to the south, menwadin' to the waist kin cross."
"Good!" said Henry. "We're lucky!"
He began to give rapid, incisive commands, and everyone obeyed as a matterof course, and without jealousy. Daniel Poe was the leader of the wagontrain, but Henry Ware, whom they had known but a few days, was its leaderin battle.
"Take fifty men," he said to Ross, "the best marksmen and the stanchestfighters, and cross there. Then come silently among the thickets up thebank, to strike them when they strike us."
Paul listened with admiration. He knew Henry's genius for battle, and,like the others, he was inspired by his comrade's confidence. The fiftymen were quickly told off behind the wagons, and, headed by Tom Ross andJim Hart, they disappeared at once in the woods. Shif'less Sol remainedwith Henry and Paul.
"Now, forward!" said Henry Ware, and the terrible, grim march was begunagain. There was the river, growing broader and broader and bluer andbluer as they came closer. The children and women--except the Amazons--sawnothing because they were crouched upon the floors of the wagon beds, butthe drivers, every one of whom had a rifle lying upon the seat beside him,were at that moment the bravest of them all, because they faced thegreatest danger.
"Slowly!" said Henry, to the leading wagons. "We must give Sol and his mentime for their circuit."
He noted with deep joy that the ford was wide. At least five wagons couldenter it abreast, and he made them advance in five close lines.
"When you reach the water," he said to the drivers, "lie down behind thefront of the wagon beds, and drive any way you can. Now, Sol, you and Iand Dick Salter must rouse them from the thickets."
The three crept forward, and looked at the peaceful river under thepeaceful sky. So far as the ordinary eye could see, there was no humanbeing on its shores. The bushes waved a little in the gentle wind, and thewater broke in brilliant bubbles on the shallows.
But Henry Ware's eyes were not ordinary. There was not a keener pair onthe continent, and among the thickets on the farther bank he saw a stirthat was not natural. The wind blew north, and now and then a bush wouldbend a little toward the south. He crept closer, and at last he saw acoppery face here and there, and savage, gleaming eyes staring through thebushes.
"Tell the wagons to come on boldly," he said to Shif'less Sol, and theshiftless one obeyed.
"Now, Sol," he said, when the man returned, "take fifty more riflemen, andhide in that thicket, at the highest part of the bank. Stay there. Youwill know what else to do."
"I think I will," said the shiftless one, and every trace of indifferenceor laziness was gone from him. He was the forester, alert andindomitable--a fit second to Henry Ware. Then Henry and Jim Hart alonewere left near the river's brink. Henry did not look back.
"Are the wagons coming fast?" he asked.
"Yes," said Jim Hart, "but I'm beckonin' to 'em to come still faster.They'll be in the water in three minutes. Listen! The drivers are whippin'up the horses!"
The loud cracking of whips arose, and the horses advanced at a trot towardthe ford. At the same instant Henry Ware raised his rifle, and fired likea flash of lightning at one of the coppery faces in the thicket on theopposite shore. The death cry of the savage rose, but far above it rosethe taunting shout of the white youth, louder and more terrible than theirown. The savages, surprised, abandoned their ambush. The leading wagonsdashed into the water, and down upon them dashed the picked power of theallied western tribes.
In an instant the far edge of the water was swarming with coppery bodiesand savage faces, and the war whoop, given again and again, echoed far upand down the stream, and through the thickets and forest. Rifles crackedrapidly, and then blazed into volleys. Bullets sighed as they struck onhuman flesh or the wood of wagons, and now and then they spattered on thewater. Cries of pain or shouts of defiance rose, and the furious conflictbetween white man and red rapidly thickened and deepened, becoming aconfused and terrible medley.
Henry Ware and Jim Hart ran down into the stream by the side of theleading wagons, and loaded and
fired swiftly into the dense brown massbefore them. Nor did they send a bullet amiss. Henry Ware was conscious atthat moment of a fierce desire to see the face of Braxton Wyatt amid thebrown horde. He knew he was there, somewhere, and in the rage of conflicthe would gladly have sent a bullet through the renegade's black heart. Hedid not see him, but the dauntless youth pressed steadily forward,continually shouting encouragement and showing the boldest example of themall.
A bank of blue and white smoke arose over the stream, shot through by theflashes of the rifle firing, and out of this bank came the defiant shoutsof the combatants. Suddenly, from the high bank, on the shore that theyhad just left, burst a tremendous volley--fifty rifles fired at once. Ayell of pain and rage burst from the savages. Those rifles had mowed aperfect swath of death among them.
"Good old Sol! Good old Sol!" exclaimed Henry, twice through his shutteeth. "On, men, on! Trample them down! Drive the wagons into them!"
A second time the unexpected volley burst from the hill, and a storm ofbullets beat upon the packed mass of the savages at the edge of the water.Henry Ware had been a true general that day. Shif'less Sol and his men,from their height and hid among the bushes, poured volley after volleyinto the savages below, spurred on by their own success and thedesperation of the cause.
The front wagons advanced deeper into the water and the smoke bank, andthe others came, closely packed behind in a huddle. Unearthly screamsarose--the cries of wounded or dying horses, shot by the savages.
"Cut them loose from the gear," cried Henry, "and on! always on!"
Swift and skillful hands obeyed him, and some of the wagons, in the wildenergy of the moment, were carried on, partly by a single horse and partlyby the weight of those behind them. The shouts of the savages neverceased, but above them rose the cry of the dauntless soul that now led thewagon train. More than one savage fired at the splendid figure, never moresplendid than when in battle; but always the circling smoke or the hand ofProvidence protected him, and he still led on, unhurt. They were now nearthe middle of the river, and Shif'less Sol and his men never ceased topour their fire over their heads and into the red ranks.
"Now! Now!" muttered Henry, through his shut teeth. He was praying for TomRoss and the first fifty, and as he prayed his prayer was answered.
A great burst of fire came from the thickets on their own side of theriver, and the savages were smitten on the flanks, as if by a bolt oflightning. It seemed to them at the same moment as if the fire of the menwith the wagon train, and of those on the high bluff, doubled. Theyrecoiled. They gave back and they shivered as that terrible fire smotethem a second and a third time on the flank. The soul of Shawnee, Miami,and Wyandot alike filled with dread. In vain Yellow Panther and Red Eagle,great war chiefs, raged back and forth, and encouraged their warriors togo on. In vain they risked their lives again and again. The great bulk ofthe wagons bore steadily down upon them, and they were continually lashedby an unerring fire from three points. Well for the people of the wagontrain that a born leader had planned their crossing and had led them thatday!
"They give, they give!" shouted Henry Ware. "We win, we win!"
"They give, they give! We win, we win!" shouted the brave riflemen, andthey pressed forward more strongly than ever. By their side waded the boldAmazons, fighting with the best.
The wagons themselves offered great shelter for the pioneers. As Henry hadforeseen, they were driven forward in a mass, which was carried partly byits own impetus. If the Indians had thought to fire chiefly upon thehorses they would have accomplished more, but the few of these that wereslain did not check the progress of the others. Meanwhile, the riflemenlurked amid the wheels and behind the wagon beds, incessantly pouringtheir deadly hail of bullets upon the exposed savages, and the driversfrom sheltered places did the same. The train became a moving fort,belching forth fire and death upon its enemies.
The defenders did not advance without loss. Now and then a man sank anddied in the stream, many others suffered wounds, and even the women andchildren did not escape; but through it all, through all the roar andtumult, all the shouting and cries, the train drew steadily closer to thewestern bank.
"Now, boys," shouted Shif'less Sol to his faithful fifty, "they're aboutto run! Pour it into 'em!"
At the same time Tom Ross was giving a similar command to his own equallyfaithful fifty, and they closed up on the flank of the allied tribes, andstung and stung. Henry Ware, through the drifting clouds of smoke andvapor, saw the savages waver again, and, shouting to the boldest tofollow, he rushed forward. Then Shawnees, Miamis, and Wyandots, despitethe fierce commands of Yellow Panther and Red Eagle, broke and fled fromthe water to the shore. There Tom Ross stung them more fiercely than everon the flank, and the fire of Shif'less Sol from the high bluff reachedthem with deadly aim. They broke again, and, filled with superstitiousterror at their awful losses, fled, a panic horde, into the woods.
"On, on!" shouted Henry Ware, in tremendous tones. "They run, they run!"
The whole train seemed to heave forward, as if by one convulsive buttriumphant movement. Shif'less Sol and his men came down from the bluffand dashed into the water behind them; Ross and his fifty came forwardfrom the thicket to meet them; and thus, dripping with water, smoke,blood, and sweat, the whole train passed up the western bank. The terribleford had been won!