The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippi

by Joseph A. Altsheler

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE DEFENSE OF THE FIVE

  Henry Ware was the first on land, Shif'less Sol came just behind him, andthen the other three. The boat from which they had leaped, and which nowcontained but two oarsmen, swung back a little into the stream, and in amoment the darkness, closing down, shut it from view. They stood in apatch of undergrowth and the battle still flamed around them on the bayou,on the river, and in the woods. It was now fiercest in the forest, whichcrackled with the rifle shots and the sound of singing bullets.Innumerable jets of flame sparkled here and there, and then went out, tobe succeeded instantly by others.

  Many of the Indian canoes had been sunk by the explosion or the sweep ofthe supply fleet, but it was easy for their occupants, if not seriouslywounded, to escape to the land, and they greatly increased the savageswarm in the woods, chiefly on the north bank of the bayou. Henry and hisfriends could hear their warning cries to one another, even their tread,and they realized that their own skirmishers in the woods would be pressedhard. Only a determined effort could hold back the horde long enough forthe men to reach the fleet.

  While they stood there, seeking the best thing to do, two skirmishersdashed up, breathless, both slightly wounded, and exclaiming that theywere pursued by a formidable force.

  "Jump into the water!" cried Henry. "The boats are only a few yards away!We'll hold back the savages!"

  There were two plunks, as the skirmishers sprang into the Mississippi,sinking a moment from sight, and then, as they reappeared, swimmingswiftly for the boats. Behind them came their pursuers in a swarm, butthey were driven back by the rifle fire of the little party from Kentucky.Another skirmisher burst through the bushes, and, helped in the same way,sprang into the Mississippi, swimming for the boats. Then came a fourthand a fifth and everyone escaped as the others had done.

  "It's well we came," said Henry. "This is not the least of our task. Liedown, boys."

  They stretched themselves on the damp earth, the great, yellow river closebehind them, and the forest in front swarming with the savage force. Theyhad expected other men who had landed to come to their aid, but theparties had become separated in the darkness and confusion of the battle,and they were left alone. Nevertheless a dauntless heart beat in everybreast, and they expected to hold that neck of land, which seemed to be achannel for the pursued, until the last fugitive was safe.

  Lying upon their faces, half supported by their elbows, they could loadand fire whenever they saw a hostile figure in front of them. Again andagain the pursuit of a skirmisher was driven back by these deadlyriflemen. Now and then a cannon shot fired from their own fleet whistledover their heads and struck in the forest among their foes, but they paidno attention to it. They were intent upon their own work and every facultywas concentrated for the task.

  They had the bayou on one side and a little bay of the river on the other,and they could not be surrounded by land. The foe was always straightbefore them, in a way, eye to eye, and there they sent bullets that rarelymissed.

  A fever was in their blood, the long battle, its tremendous events, andthe new phase that it had now assumed, set every nerve to going. Certainfaculties useless for that crisis had become atrophied for the time. Theyno longer heard the sounds of the cannon shots over their heads or theshouts of the men on the boats, they saw and heard nothing but their ownbattle and what lay directly in front of them.

  The position was growing more dangerous. Their searching fire had drawnupon them an enemy always increasing in numbers. The savages converged infront of them in a semicircle, and their fire grew heavier and heavier.Bullets whistled over them, struck the earth about them, or clipped theirclothing.

  Another fugitive passed them and escaped, and then yet another. It wasevident that their task was not yet done, and they would not leave,although the fire poured upon them, still increased in heat and thebullets came in showers.

  Presently the attack seemed to veer away from them somewhat, as if theattention of the enemy were turned elsewhere, and Paul, who was at the endof the line, crept forward a little in the thicket. The fever was stillburning in his veins and he was anxious to see what lay in front of him.He did not hear the warning cries of his comrades, or, if hearing, he didnot heed them. He was still burning with the desire to see what lay therein the depths of the forest. Paul, the scholar, the thinker, the futurestatesman, had become transformed. In such a surcharged atmosphere he,too, had turned into the primitive man, the fighter, the man who looksupon every other man not proven a friend, as his natural enemy. Thebullets had ceased for the time being to whistle above his head and tostrike up the earth about him. He became conscious once more of the cannonshots, shrieking over him, and the crash of the rifle fire came from rightand left.

  A stick broke under Paul and he heard a shout in front of him. The shoutwas so fierce, so fully charged with malice, that he sprang to his feet asif he had been propelled by an electric shock. He stood face to face withDon Francisco Alvarez, the plotter, the rebel, and leader of the attackingarmy, a wild and terrible figure, clothes torn, bleeding from wounds, butanimated now by a savage joy. His pistol was leveled at the surprisedyouth, and the next moment the deadly bullet would have been sped, but atall black-robed figure rose up from the bushes and threw Alvarez back.

  "Francisco Alvarez, thou hast done crime enough already!" exclaimed thepriest.

  Alvarez regained his balance, cast one look of hate at the man who hadintervened, and cried:

  "Ha! it is you, priest, who have come in my way once more! Then go the wayof martyrdom!"

  Turning his pistol he fired the bullet full into the black-robed chest,and Father Montigny fell dying.

  Paul stood still, unable to move. Every muscle in him was paralyzed bythis deed which seemed to him not murder alone, but sacrilege. Of all theevents of that terrible night this was the worst. But a man behind Paul,retained every faculty, alive and alert. Up rose Shif'less Sol, his honestface ablaze with wrath. His rifle flew to his shoulder, his finger pressedthe trigger, and the soul of Don Francisco Alvarez, grandee of Spain, spedto judgment from the darkness and obscurity of the North Americanwilderness.

  "Come back, Paul! Come back!" cried Shif'less Sol, seizing the youth bythe shoulder.

  "But Father Montigny is dying!" cried Paul, falling upon his knees besidethe priest. The tears ran down his cheeks and fell upon the pale face ofthe dying man.

  Paul and Father Montigny, Protestant and Catholic, young man and old, werekindred spirits, and each had felt it from the first. In the soul of eachwas the same mysticism, the same imaginative quality, the same spiritualeye always looking into the future. It had occurred more than once to thepriest that, if he had remained outside the cloth, and had lived as othermen lived, he would have wished such a son as Paul.

  Now he smiled and opened his eyes as he saw this beloved youth of hislater days weeping over him, as he lay in the forest with his death wound.The one face that he wished most to see beside him, as he drew his lastbreath, was there.

  "Paul!" he said, "Paul, my son! Do not weep. It is the fate--in one formor another--of all who travel in these woods--on such missions as mine. Ihave long expected it--and I have often wondered that it has been delayedso long. I escape, too, the torture--that more than one of my brethren hassuffered."

  He reached out one hand, and put it lightly upon Paul's bare head. Thereit lay and Paul felt it grow cold upon him.

  "Come away, Paul," said the shiftless one gently. "The good priest isdead. It's the livin' that need our help."

  Bullets began to whistle from the thickets. The battle converged towardthem again, and Paul knew that he was needed to help the others hold thelittle neck of land so important to all. A cannon shot shrieked over hishead, and then another. Once more they were the focus of the combat. Theforest in front of them sparkled as rapidly as before with beads offlame.

  Paul rose reluctantly and turned away. The priest lay on his back, hisface, pale and perfectly peaceful, upturned to the skies. Al
varez was adozen yards away, but his figure, still forever, was motionless in theshadows. Paul did not bestow a glance upon him, but he gave FatherMontigny a last long look of affection and sorrow as he turned away.

  "Down, Paul, down!" cried Henry, when Paul and Shif'less Sol reached theothers. "We saw what happened! You cannot do anything for him now!"

  He dragged Paul down, and in an instant all of them turned their fullenergy to the defense. The attack upon them was renewed with uncommon fireand fury. The Indians and desperadoes wished to pass that particular neckof land in order that they might pour a storm of bullets upon the crippledfleet and the skirmishers who were yet coming in; but the little band,headed by Henry Ware, still held them back.

  Henry looked once or twice toward the river and saw the boats hovering farout in the stream. He judged that, in the darkness and confusion, AdamColfax no longer knew where the Kentuckians lay, and it was even possiblethat he might lose them entirely; but the fact did not shake Henry'sresolve. It was vital that they should hold the neck, and he intended todo it. He and his comrades, lying close together, replied rapidly and withdeadly aim to the fire in front of them, forming a compact little body,with blazing rifles, which the savage army was not yet able to displace.

  The night darkened, there were signs of rain, induced perhaps, by so muchfiring; the moon was completely hidden by gathering clouds; the riverbecame a black, flowing mass and the boats upon it blurred with itssurface, save when they leaped into the light in the blaze of a cannonshot. The woods, too, seemed a solid, black wall, along the front of whichrifle shots sparkled in clusters.

  "Good boys! good boys!" exclaimed Henry in low tones, surcharged withexcitement. He, too, had the mounting blood hot in his brain. All the oldprimeval passion was flaming in him. But the fire of the enemy convergednearer and nearer, and the bullets sang a ceaseless little song in hisears as they passed. "Ah!" he exclaimed as one struck him in the arm. Butthat was all he said. He went on with his loading and firing.

  "Are you hit, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol.

  "A scratch! Nothing more! Look how Long Jim fights!"

  Long Jim was almost flat upon his face, but the man, usually so mild andgood tempered, was now wholly possessed by the rage of combat. His longthin figure fitted around the sinuosities of the earth, and he seemed tohave a curious gliding motion, sliding forward slowly to meet the enemy.The darkness was nothing now to his accustomed eyes, and he sent hisbullets with sure aim toward the shadowy forms in the bushes in front ofthem.

  Long Jim forgot everything now but his rifle and the enemy there in thethicket. He slid further and further, still drawing himself over theground in that terrible semblance of a serpent. Paul, seeing his face, wasfrightened. "Jim! Jim!" he cried. "Stop!" But Long Jim slid slowly on. TomRoss said something, but it was lost in the whistling of a cannon shotoverhead.

  They saw Long Jim stop the next moment, and Paul believed that he heardhim utter a little sigh. Long Jim's limbs contracted and straightened outagain with a jerk. Then he turned slowly over on his side and lay still, amoment or two, after which he began to writhe violently. At the same timehe clapped his hand to his head and it came back red.

  "Sol sometimes says I've a thick skull, an' 'ef so it's a good thing," hemuttered to himself.

  He shook his head again and again, as if to clear it, and crept back tohis friends. There he tore off a portion of his deerskin hunting shirt,tied it tightly around the wound, and went on with his firing.

  "Don't be too enthusiastic, Jim," said Henry.

  "I won't," replied Long Jim, "I'm cured."

  Lower crouched the five, taking advantage of the bushes and littlehillocks, and sending a bullet every time they saw a flitting figure inthe forest in front of them. Behind them they could still hear the roar ofthe combat on the river. The crackle of the rifles and the muskets wassteady in their ears, while now and then the note of a cannon boomed aboveit, and a solid shot, curving over their heads, whizzed into thethickets. But they paid little attention to the main battle; it wasmerely a chorus, a background, as it were, for their own corner of thestruggle, which absorbed all their energies.

  Their fire was so incessant, it was so well aimed, and it stung the alliedarmy so severely, that an increasing force was steadily concentrating infront of them. Nor did they escape wholly unhurt. A bullet grazed Henry'sarm and another did the same for Shif'less Sol's shoulder; but neitherpaid any attention to his wounds, loading and reloading, facing the enemywith undiminished zeal and courage.

  Its whole aspect was now a phantom battle to them all. The incessant crashand roaring in their ears, and the smoke and vapor in their nostrils,heated their brains and made everything look unreal. They were butphantoms themselves, and the foes who leaped about in the forest werephantoms, too. Darker and darker the clouds rolled up and the smoke andvapors thickened in the forest, but through the blackness the lines offlame still replied to each other.

  Paul's excitement was so great that he could not keep himself down. He wasburning with fever, but passion seemed to be departing from him. Hethought that, if they were all to die, it was a privilege to die together.He saw now the deep cool woods, a beautiful lake, and an island enclosedwithin it, like a green gem in a blue setting. Paul's thoughts, and hisvision with them, were wandering into the past.

  "Steady, Paul, steady!" said Henry. But Paul saw nothing now. A bullet,singing merrily, gave him a leaden kiss, and he sank down very gently,lying upon one arm, the red fast dyeing his buckskin hunting shirt.

  Henry gave a cry when he saw Paul fall, and bent anxiously over hisfriend. The light was faint, but the bullet seemed to have gone entirelythrough the youth. Henry put his ear to his chest, and could hear hisheart still beating, though faintly.

  "Hold 'em back!" he shouted to his friends, "and I'll help Paul!"

  Shif'less Sol, Tom, and Long Jim, although overwhelmed with anxiety fortheir young comrade, steadily turned their faces toward the foe, andreplied to his fire. Henry, while the bullets whistled above his head,bent down and cut away Paul's hunting shirt. Yes, the bullet had goneentirely through his body and it was lucky for Paul that it had done so.No need now of the surgeon's probe. Henry bound up the wound tightly andstopped the bleeding. Then he undertook to lift the lad; but Paul,although still unconscious and a dead weight in his arms, groaned withpain. Henry laid him gently back on the ground.

  "Boys," he said, "Paul is too weak to be moved, and we've got to hold thisplace until help comes or the enemy quits."

  "I think the last skirmisher has escaped now," said Shif'less Sol, "buthere we stay."

  He spoke for them all, and Henry, unable to do anything more for Paul,turned his attention anew to the enemy. There was a sudden increase of thefiring in front. The clouds and vapors rolled back, and the dancingfigures in the thickets took on more semblance of reality. Suddenly Henryuttered a cry. His eyes of almost preternatural keenness had recognizedone of the figures.

  "What is it, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol.

  "Braxton Wyatt. He's in the thicket. I saw him a moment ago. I know hisface and figure too well to be mistaken."

  "I saw him, too," replied the shiftless one. "O' course he's escaped thebullets so fur. It's jest his luck."

  "I think he knows we're here," said Henry, "and he's leading the attack onus. But we'll never yield this ground and Paul to such a fellow."

  "No!" said the others with one voice.

  The clouds and vapors closed in again. The darkness rolled up in waveafter wave, and the renegade, leading on outlaw and red man, pressed theattack; but the four met them with courage and spirit unshaken.

  The clouds and vapors rolled over attack and defense, but through thedarkness fire answered fire. After a while the forest and the bayou, whichhad witnessed such a desperate display of human energy, sank into darknessand silence. The clouds, now in the zenith, began to give forth rain, butit was a gentle, beneficent rain, and it fell silently on the faces of theliving and the dead alike.

  CH
APTER XXII

  THE CHOSEN TASK

  Adam Colfax had gone through the battle unharmed, but that terrible nightleft new gray in his hair. He was a religious man, and, when the riflefire died down in the forest and then went out, he uttered a devout prayerof thankfulness. He and his train, on the whole, had come through betterthan he had expected. There had been moments in the bayou when he thoughtno mortal strength or skill could break the chain that bound them. But thesavage army and navy had been beaten off, and the core of his fleet wassaved. He could still go on to Pittsburgh with his precious cargo.

  The trumpet was sounded again, and the boats, drawing together, began tocount their losses. It was a long sad count, but those who survived wereelated over their great victory.

  It was then that Adam Colfax discovered the loss of the five who hadhelped him so much. Some one had seen them spring ashore to protect theescape of the skirmishers, and he ordered the fleet at once toward theland to save them, or, if too late, to bring their bodies to the boat.

  A dozen boats swung in toward the bank and that of Adam Colfax wasforemost. He was not conscious of the gentle rain, save that it feltcooling and pleasant on his face after the heat and smoke of the battle.Yet the brain of the stern New Hampshire man was still fevered, too. Thebattle had ceased, but the roar of the cannon-shots and the crash of therifles yet echoed in his ears. The black forest that came down to thewater's edge, was full of mystery and terror, and his was no timid heart.Smoke of the battle drifted among the trees or over the river, and therain did not drive it all away. In the far distance low thunder muttered,and now and then flashes of heat lightning drew a belt of coppery redalong the dark horizon.

  Adam Colfax, stern man that he was, shuddered. But he would not flinch. Hewas the first to spring ashore. The forest assumed its most somber aspect.The trees were weird and ghostly, and there was no sound at all but thegentle drip, drip of the rain. Here the vapors and mists seemed to beimprisoned by the boughs and foliage, and the odors were heavy and acrid.

  He had landed upon a little neck of land, and some one remarked: "It washere that the Kentuckians landed." But there was no sound in the forestand the scouts had reported already that the enemy had gone away. A greatfear gripped at the heart of Adam Colfax. "They are all dead," he thought.

  Men brought torches, as they no longer had any fear of sharpshooters; andAdam Colfax, followed by twenty others, entered the forest. The wind roseslightly and whipped the rain in his face, but he stepped into thedeepest shadow, and, taking a torch from one of the men, held it aloftwith his own hand. The light fell upon a little open space and, despitehimself, Adam Colfax uttered a cry.

  A figure lay outstretched under the shelter of arching boughs and bushes,and four more beside it were still and silent, leaning against a fallenlog. There was such an absolute lack of motion, that Colfax at firstthought that the soul of every one was sped.

  "Good God! Dead! All dead!" he exclaimed.

  But a great figure quickly uprose.

  "No," said Henry Ware, a fine smile passing over his boyish face. "We beatthem off, and we're just resting and waiting. Only Paul is seriously hurt,and so far we've been afraid to move him."

  Shif'less Sol, Jim Hart, and Tom Ross rose, too, and shook the raindropsfrom their clothes.

  "We didn't have good shelter here," said Shif'less Sol, "but I think therain and its coolness have helped Paul."

  Adam Colfax bent over the boy and, in the dawning light, made a criticalexamination.

  "He will live," he said. "We'd have come to your relief long ago, had weknown you were here."

  "It was Braxton Wyatt who led the last attack against us," said Henry,"and as usual, he has had the good luck to escape. At least, we can't findhis body here, and I haven't the slightest doubt that he's living to domore mischief and that we'll meet him again."

  It was true, and a diligent search revealed no trace of Wyatt. He hadescaped, fleeing North after the battle, to rejoin his old friends, theShawnees and Miamis.

  Paul was lifted gently, after receiving treatment from the surgeon of thefleet, and carried to a boat, where he regained consciousness. His woundwas severe, but his blood was so healthy that he would recover, accordingto the surgeon, with great rapidity.

  When all five were together, Adam Colfax said to them collectively:

  "You did the most of all to save the fleet."

  That was enough reward for them.

  The body of Father Montigny was buried in the forest, and a little woodencross was put at his head, Christian burial was given to the body ofAlvarez, too, and the supply fleet prepared for a new start.

  * * * * *

  The fleet, two weeks later, was making its slow progress northward on theMississippi. The great river was in an uncommonly friendly mood. Its usualyellow seemed silver in the brilliant morning light. Heavy masses of greenfringed either low shore, and keen pleasant odors came from thewilderness.

  Oliver Pollock, hearing of the battle of the bayou, had sent a seconddetachment from New Orleans to replace the men and boats lost and theammunition shot away by the first, and now, stronger than ever, itcontinued under the brave and skillful leadership of Adam Colfax, on itsgreat mission.

  The five sat in the end of one of the largest boats, under the shade of asail. Paul's strength was fast coming back; he would not suffer theslightest harm, and they were happy.

  "This is jest the life fur a lazy man like me," said Shif'less Sol."Nothin' to do but go on an' on, with people to wait on you, an' say youhev already done your part."

  "We have had a wonderful escape," said Paul.

  The face of the shiftless one became grave, even reverent.

  "So we hev, Paul," he said. "Seems to me sometimes that we wuz spared fura purpose. We wouldn't hev come alive, every one of us, through all that,ef it hadn't been intended that we should go on with the work that we aredoin', helpin' and defendin' our people the best we kin. I think we'vebeen chose."

  "I think so, too," said Paul, "and here and now we should devote ourselvesto it, as long as it is needed. I want to do so. Are the rest of youwilling?"

  "I am," said Henry with emphasis.

  "And I!" said the shiftless one.

  "And I!" said Tom Ross.

  "And I!" said Long Jim.

  "Amen!" said Paul.

  THE END