CHAPTER XXI.
Each one has had his supping mess, The cheese is put into the press, The pans and bowls, clean scalded all, Reared up against the milk-house wall. COTTON.
It seemed strange to Mabel Dunham, as she passed along on her way tofind her female companion, that others should be so composed, while sheherself felt as if the responsibilities of life and death rested on hershoulders. It is true that distrust of June's motives mingled with herforebodings; but when she came to recall the affectionate and naturalmanner of the young Indian girl, and all the evidences of good faith andsincerity she had seen in her conduct during the familiar intercourseof their journey, she rejected the idea with the unwillingness of agenerous disposition to believe ill of others. She saw, however, thatshe could not put her companions properly on their guard without lettingthem into the secret of her conference with June; and she found herselfcompelled to act cautiously and with a forethought to which she wasunaccustomed, more especially in a matter of so much moment.
The soldier's wife was told to transport the necessaries into theblockhouse, and admonished not to be far from it at any time during theday. Mabel did not explain her reasons. She merely stated that she haddetected some signs in walking about the island, which induced her toapprehend that the enemy had more knowledge of its position than hadbeen previously believed, and that they two at least, would do wellto be in readiness to seek a refuge at the shortest notice. It wasnot difficult to arouse the apprehension of this person, who, though astout-hearted Scotchwoman, was ready enough to listen to anything thatconfirmed her dread of Indian cruelties. As soon as Mabel believed thather companion was sufficiently frightened to make her wary, she threwout some hints touching the inexpediency of letting the soldiers knowthe extent of their own fears. This was done with a view to preventdiscussions and inquiries that might embarrass our heroine: shedetermining to render her uncle, the Corporal, and his men morecautious, by adopting a different course. Unfortunately, the Britisharmy could not have furnished a worse person for the particularduty that he was now required to discharge than Corporal M'Nab, theindividual who had been left in command during the absence of SergeantDunham. On the one hand, he was resolute, prompt, familiar with allthe details of a soldier's life, and used to war; on the other, he wassupercilious as regards the provincials, opinionated on every subjectconnected with the narrow limits of his professional practice, muchdisposed to fancy the British empire the centre of all that is excellentin the world, and Scotland the focus of, at least, all moral excellencein that empire. In short, he was an epitome, though on a scale suited tohis rank, of those very qualities which were so peculiar to the servantsof the Crown that were sent into the colonies, as these servantsestimated themselves in comparison with the natives of the country; or,in other words, he considered the American as an animal inferior tothe parent stock, and viewed all his notions of military service, inparticular, as undigested and absurd. A more impracticable subject,therefore, could not well have offered for the purpose of Mabel, and yetshe felt obliged to lose no time in putting her plan in execution.
"My father has left you a responsible command, Corporal," she said, assoon as she could catch M'Nab a little apart; "for should the islandfall into the hands of the enemy, not only should we be captured,but the party that is now out would in all probability become theirprisoners also."
"It needs no journey from Scotland to this place to know the factsneedful to be o' that way of thinking." returned M'Nab drily.
"I do not doubt your understanding it as well as myself, Mr. M'Nab,but I'm fearful that you veterans, accustomed as you are to dangers andbattles, are a little apt to overlook some of the precautions that maybe necessary in a situation as peculiar as ours."
"They say Scotland is no conquered country, young woman, but I'mthinking there must be some mistak' in the matter, as we, her children,are so drowsy-headed and apt to be o'ertaken when we least expect it."
"Nay, my good friend, you mistake my meaning. In the first place, I'mnot thinking of Scotland at all, but of this island; and then I am farfrom doubting your vigilance when you think it necessary to practise it;but my great fear is that there may be danger to which your courage willmake you indifferent."
"My courage, Mistress Dunham, is doubtless of a very pool quality, beingnothing but Scottish courage; your father's is Yankee, and were he hereamong us we should see different preparations, beyond a doubt. Well,times are getting wrang, when foreigners hold commissions and carryhalberds in Scottish corps; and I no wonder that battles are lost, andcampaigns go wrang end foremost."
Mabel was almost in despair; but the quiet warning of June was stilltoo vividly impressed on her mind to allow her to yield the matter. Shechanged her mode of operating, therefore, still clinging to the hope ofgetting the whole party within the blockhouse, without being compelledto betray the source whence she obtained her notices of the necessity ofvigilance.
"I daresay you are right, Corporal M'Nab," she observed; "for I've oftenheard of the heroes of your country, who have been among the first ofthe civilized world, if what they tell me of them is true."
"Have you read the history of Scotland, Mistress Dunham?" demanded theCorporal, looking up at his pretty companion, for the first time withsomething like a smile on his hard, repulsive countenance.
"I have read a little of it, Corporal, but I've heard much more. Thelady who brought me up had Scottish blood in her veins, and was fond ofthe subject."
"I'll warrant ye, the Sergeant no' troubled himself to expatiate on therenown of the country where his regiment was raised?"
"My father has other things to think of, and the little I know was gotfrom the lady I have mentioned."
"She'll no' be forgetting to tall ye o' Wallace?"
"Of him I've even read a good deal."
"And o' Bruce, and the affair of Bannockburn?"
"Of that too, as well as of Culloden Muir."
The last of these battles was then a recent event, it having actuallybeen fought within the recollection of our heroine, whose notions of it,however, were so confused that she scarcely appreciated the effect herallusion might produce on her companion. She knew it had been a victory,and had often heard the guests of her patroness mention it with triumph;and she fancied their feelings would find a sympathetic chord in thoseof every British soldier. Unfortunately, M'Nab had fought throughoutthat luckless day on the side of the Pretender; and a deep scar thatgarnished his face had been left there by the sabre of a German soldierin the service of the House of Hanover. He fancied that his wound bledafresh at Mabel's allusion and it is certain that the blood rushedto his face in a torrent, as if it would pour out of his skin at thecicatrix.
"Hoot! hoot awa'!" he fairly shouted, "with your Culloden and Sherriffmuirs, young woman; ye'll no' be understanding the subject at all,and will manifest not only wisdom but modesty in speaking o' your aincountry and its many failings. King George has some loyal subjects inthe colonies, na doubt, but 'twill be a lang time before he sees orhears any guid of them."
Mabel was surprised at the Corporal's heat, for she had not the smallestidea where the shoe pinched; but she was determined not to give up thepoint.
"I've always heard that the Scotch had two of the good qualities ofsoldiers," she said, "courage and circumspection and I feel persuadedthat Corporal M'Nab will sustain the national renown."
"Ask yer own father, Mistress Dunham; he is acquaint' with CorporalM'Nab, and will no' be backward to point out his demerits. We have beenin battle thegither, and he is my superior officer, and has a sort o'official right to give the characters of his subordinates."
"My father thinks well of you, M'Nab, or he would not have left you incharge of this island and all it contains, his own daughter included.Among other things, I well know that he calculates largely on yourprudence. He expects the blockhouse in particular to be strictlyattended to."
"If he wishes to defend the honor of the 55th behind logs, he ought tohave remained in c
ommand himsel'; for, to speak frankly, it goes againsta Scotchman's bluid and opinions to be beaten out of the field evenbefore he is attacked. We are broadsword men, and love to stand foot tofoot with the foe. This American mode of fighting, that is getting intoso much favor, will destroy the reputation of his Majesty's army, if itno' destroy its spirit."
"No true soldier despises caution. Even Major Duncan himself, than whomthere is none braver, is celebrated for his care of his men."
"Lundie has his weakness, and is fast forgetting the broadsword and openheaths in his tree and rifle practice. But, Mistress Dunham, tak' theword of an old soldier, who has seen his fifty-fifth year, when he tallsye that there is no surer method to encourage your enemy than to seemto fear him; and that there is no danger in this Indian warfare that thefancies and imaginations of your Americans have not enlarged upon, untilthey see a savage in every bush. We Scots come from a naked region,and have no need and less relish for covers, and so ye'll be seeing,Mistress Dunham--"
The Corporal gave a spring into the air, fell forward on his face, androlled over on his back, the whole passing so suddenly that Mabel hadscarcely heard the sharp crack of the rifle that had sent a bulletthrough his body. Our heroine did not shriek--did not even tremble; forthe occurrence was too sudden, too awful, and too unexpected for thatexhibition of weakness; on the contrary, she stepped hastily forward,with a natural impulse to aid her companion. There was just enough oflife left in M'Nab to betray his entire consciousness of all that hadpassed. His countenance had the wild look of one who had been overtakenby death by surprise; and Mabel, in her cooler moments, fancied that itshowed the tardy repentance of a willful and obstinate sinner.
"Ye'll be getting into the blockhouse as fast as possible," M'Nabwhispered, as Mabel leaned over him to catch his dying words.
Then came over our heroine the full consciousness of her situation andof the necessity of exertion. She cast a rapid glance at the body ather feet, saw that it had ceased to breathe, and fled. It was but afew minutes' run to the blockhouse, the door of which Mabel had barelygained when it was closed violently in her face by Jennie, the soldier'swife, who in blind terror thought only of her own safety. The reportsof five or six rifles were heard while Mabel was calling out foradmittance; and the additional terror they produced prevented the womanwithin from undoing quickly the very fastenings she had been so expertin applying. After a minute's delay, however, Mabel found the doorreluctantly yielding to her constant pressure, and she forced herslender body through the opening the instant it was large enoughto allow of its passage. By this time Mabel's heart ceased to beattulmultuously and she gained sufficient self-command to act collectedly.Instead of yielding to the almost convulsive efforts of her companionto close the door again, she held it open long enough to ascertain thatnone of her own party was in sight, or likely on the instant to endeavorto gain admission: then she allowed the opening to be shut. Her ordersand proceedings now became more calm and rational. But a single bar wascrossed, and Jennie was directed to stand in readiness to remove eventhat at any application from a friend. She then ascended the ladder tothe room above, where by means of a loophole she was enabled to getas good a view of the island as the surrounding bushes would allow.Admonishing her associate below to be firm and steady, she made ascareful an examination of the environs as her situation permitted.
To her great surprise, Mabel could not at first see a living soul onthe island, friend or enemy. Neither Frenchman nor Indian was visible,though a small straggling white cloud that was floating before the windtold her in which quarter she ought to look for them. The rifles hadbeen discharged from the direction of the island whence June had come,though whether the enemy were on that island, or had actually landed onher own, Mabel could not say. Going to the loop that commanded a view ofthe spot where M'Nab lay, her blood curdled at perceiving all three ofhis soldiers lying apparently lifeless at his side. These men had rushedto a common centre at the first alarm, and had been shot down almostsimultaneously by the invisible foe whom the Corporal had affected todespise.
Neither Cap nor Lieutenant Muir was to be seen. With a beating heart,Mabel examined every opening through the trees, and ascended even to theupper story or garret of the blockhouse, where she got a full view ofthe whole island, so far as its covers would allow, but with no bettersuccess. She had expected to see the body of her uncle lying on thegrass like those of the soldiers, but it was nowhere visible. Turningtowards the spot where the boat lay, Mabel saw that it was stillfastened to the shore; and then she supposed that by some accident Muirhad been prevented from effecting his retreat in that quarter. In short,the island lay in the quiet of the grave, the bodies of the soldiersrendering the scone as fearful as it was extraordinary.
"For God's holy sake, Mistress Mabel," called out the woman from below;for, though her fear had become too ungovernable to allow her to keepsilence, our heroine's superior refinement, more than the regimentalstation of her father, still controlled her mode of address,--"MistressMabel, tell me if any of our friends are living! I think I heargroans that grow fainter and fainter, and fear that they will all betomahawked!"
Mabel now remembered that one of the soldiers was this woman's husband,and she trembled at what might be the immediate effect of her sorrow,should his death become suddenly known to her. The groans, too, gave alittle hope, though she feared they might come from her uncle, who layout of view.
"We are in His holy keeping, Jennie," she answered. "We must trust inProvidence, while we neglect none of its benevolent means of protectingourselves. Be careful with the door; on no account open it without mydirections."
"Oh, tell me, Mistress Mabel, if you can anywhere see Sandy! If I couldonly let him know that I'm in safety, the guid man would be easier inhis mind, whether free or a prisoner."
Sandy was Jennie's husband, and he lay dead in plain view of the loopfrom which our heroine was then looking.
"You no' tell me if you're seeing of Sandy," the woman repeated frombelow, impatient at Mabel's silence.
"There are some of our people gathered about the body of M'Nab," was theanswer; for it seemed sacrilegious in her eyes to tell a direct untruthunder the awful circumstances in which she was placed.
"Is Sandy amang them?" demanded the woman, in a voice that soundedappalling by its hoarseness and energy.
"He may be certainly; for I see one, two, three, four, and all in thescarlet coats of the regiment."
"Sandy!" called out the woman frantically; "why d'ye no' care foryoursal', Sandy? Come hither the instant, man, and share your wife'sfortunes in weal or woe. It's no' a moment for your silly discipline andvain-glorious notions of honor! Sandy! Sandy!"
Mabel heard the bar turn, and then the door creaked on its hinges.Expectation, not to say terror, held her in suspense at the loop, andshe soon beheld Jennie rushing through the bushes in the direction ofthe cluster of the dead. It took the woman but an instant to reach thefatal spot. So sudden and unexpected had been the blow, that she inher terror did not appear to comprehend its weight. Some wild andhalf-frantic notion of a deception troubled her fancy, and she imaginedthat the men were trifling with her fears. She took her husband's hand,and it was still warm, while she thought a covert smile was strugglingon his lip.
"Why will ye fool life away, Sandy?" she cried, pulling at the arm."Ye'll all be murdered by these accursed Indians, and you no' takin'to the block like trusty soldiers! Awa'! awa'! and no' be losing theprecious moments."
In her desperate efforts, the woman pulled the body of her husband ina way to cause the head to turn completely over, when the small hole inthe temple, caused by the entrance of a rifle bullet, and a few dropsof blood trickling over the skin, revealed the meaning of her husband'ssilence. As the horrid truth flashed in its full extent on her mind, thewoman clasped her hands, gave a shriek that pierced the glades ofevery island near, and fell at length on the dead body of the soldier.Thrilling, heartreaching, appalling as was that shriek, it was melody tothe cry that followed it s
o quickly as to blend the sounds. The terrificwar-whoop arose out of the covers of the island, and some twentysavages, horrible in their paint and the other devices of Indianingenuity, rushed forward, eager to secure the coveted scalps. Arrowheadwas foremost, and it was his tomahawk that brained the insensibleJennie; and her reeking hair was hanging at his girdle as a trophyin less than two minutes after she had quitted the blockhouse. Hiscompanions were equally active, and M'Nab and his soldiers no longerpresented the quiet aspect of men who slumbered. They were left in theirgore, unequivocally butchered corpses.
All this passed in much less time than has been required to relateit, and all this did Mabel witness. She had stood riveted to the spot,gazing on the whole horrible scene, as if enchained by some charm, nordid the idea of self or of her own danger once obtrude itself on herthoughts. But no sooner did she perceive the place where the men hadfallen covered with savages, exulting in the success of their surprise,than it occurred to her that Jennie had left the blockhouse doorunbarred. Her heart beat violently, for that defence alone stood betweenher and immediate death, and she sprang toward the ladder with theintention of descending to make sure of it. Her foot had not yet reachedthe floor of the second story, however, when she heard the door gratingon its hinges, and she gave herself up for lost. Sinking on her knees,the terrified but courageous girl endeavored to prepare herself fordeath, and to raise her thoughts to God. The instinct of life, however,was too strong for prayer, and while her lips moved, the jealous senseswatched every sound beneath. When her ears heard the bars, which went onpivots secured to the centre of the door, turning into their fastenings,not one, as she herself had directed, with a view to admit her uncleshould he apply, but all three, she started again to her feet, allspiritual contemplations vanishing in her actual temporal condition, andit seemed as if all her faculties were absorbed in the sense of hearing.
The thoughts are active in a moment so fearful. At first Mabel fanciedthat her uncle had entered the blockhouse, and she was about to descendthe ladder and throw herself into his arms; then the idea that it mightbe an Indian, who had barred the door to shut out intruders while heplundered at leisure, arrested the movement. The profound stillnessbelow was unlike the bold, restless movements of Cap, and it seemed tosavor more of the artifices of an enemy. If a friend at all, it couldonly be her uncle or the Quartermaster; for the horrible conviction nowpresented itself to our heroine that to these two and herself were thewhole party suddenly reduced, if, indeed, the two latter survived.This consideration held Mabel in check, and for full two minutes morea breathless silence reigned in the building. During this time the girlstood at the foot of the upper ladder, the trap which led to the loweropening on the opposite side of the floor; the eyes of Mabel wereriveted on this spot, for she now began to expect to see at each instantthe horrible sight of a savage face at the hole. This apprehension soonbecame so intense, that she looked about her for a place of concealment.The procrastination of the catastrophe she now fully expected, thoughit were only for a moment, afforded a relief. The room contained severalbarrels; and behind two of these Mabel crouched, placing her eyes at anopening by which she could still watch the trap. She made another effortto pray; but the moment was too horrible for that relief. She thought,too, that she heard a low rustling, as if one were ascending the lowerladder with an effort at caution so great as to betray itself by its ownexcess; then followed a creaking that she was certain came from one ofthe steps of the ladder, which had made the same noise under her ownlight weight as she ascended. This was one of those instants into whichare compressed the sensations of years of ordinary existence. Life,death, eternity, and extreme bodily pain were all standing out in boldrelief from the plane of every-day occurrences; and she might have beentaken at that moment for a beautiful pallid representation of herself,equally without motion and without vitality. But while such was theoutward appearance of the form, never had there been a time in her briefcareer when Mabel heard more acutely, saw more clearly, or felt morevividly. As yet, nothing was visible at the trap, but her ears, renderedexquisitely sensitive by intense feeling, distinctly acquainted herthat some one was within a few inches of the opening in the floor. Nextfollowed the evidence of her eyes, which beheld the dark hair of anIndian rising so slowly through the passage that the movements of thehead might be likened to that of the minute-hand of a clock; then camethe dark skin and wild features, until the whole of the swarthy face hadrisen above the floor. The human countenance seldom appears to advantagewhen partially concealed; and Mabel imagined many additional horrors asshe first saw the black, roving eyes and the expression of wildness asthe savage countenance was revealed, as it might be, inch by inch; butwhen the entire head was raised above the floor, a second and a betterlook assured our heroine that she saw the gentle, anxious, and evenhandsome face of June.
The Pathfinder; Or, The Inland Sea Page 21