The Border Watch: A Story of the Great Chief's Last Stand

by Joseph A. Altsheler

  CHAPTER XIV

  A TIMELY RESCUE

  Jim Hart sat down in the boat, drew his legs up under his blanket,shivered as he took a long look down the channel at the cold gray lake,and said:

  "Boys, you know how I wanted to see one of the great lakes; well, I hevsaw, an' hevin' saw I think the look will last me a long time. I thinkInjuns wuz right when they put pow'ful spirits on these lakes, ready tomake an end of anybody that come foolin' with thar region. The land furme hereafter. Why, I wuz so skeered an' I had to work so hard I didn'thev time to git seasick."

  "But we have to go on the lake again, Jim," said Henry. "This is anisland."

  Jim sighed.

  Henry looked at the dense forest that enclosed the cove, and he thoughtonce of exploring the islet even if it were in the night, but the woodswere so thick and they still dripped so heavily with the rain, althoughthe latter had ceased some time ago, that he resolved to remain by theboat. Besides it was only an islet anyway, and there was no probabilitythat it was inhabited.

  "I think," he said, "that we'd better fasten our clothes so tightly thatthey won't blow away, and sleep in the boat. Two will keep watch, and asI have had the most rest I'll be sentinel until about one in themorning, and then Tom can take my place."

  The agreement was quickly made. They took down the sail and the wetblankets, spread them out to dry, while the four, disposing themselvesas best they could, quickly went to sleep. Henry sat in the prow, rifleacross his knees, and thought that, despite dangers passed and dangersto come, Providence had been very kind to them.

  The darkness thinned by and by and a fine moon came out. Beads of waterstill stood upon the leaves and boughs, and the moonshine turned them tosilver. The bit of forest seemed to sparkle and in the blue heavens thegreat stars sprang out in clusters. The contrast between the night andthe day was startling. Now everything seemed to breathe of peace, and ofpeace only. A light wind rose and then the silver beads disappeared fromleaf and bough. But it was a friendly wind and it sang most pleasantlyamong the trees. Under its influence the garments of the five would dryfast, and as Henry looked at them and then down at his comrades, wrappedin their "togas" he felt an inclination to laugh. But this desire tolaugh was only proof of his mental relaxation, of the ease andconfidence that he felt after great dangers passed.

  Certainly his comrades were sleeping well. Not one of them moved, and hesaw the blankets across their chests rising and falling with regularity.Once he stepped out of the boat and walked down to the entrance of thechannel, whence he looked out upon the surface of the lake. Save for theislet he saw land nowhere, north, south, east or west. The great lakestretched away before them apparently as vast as the sea, not gray now,but running away in little liquid waves of silver in the moonlight.Henry felt its majesty as he had already felt its might. He had neverbefore appreciated so keenly the power of nature and the elements.Chance alone had put in their way this little island that had savedtheir lives.

  He walked slowly back and resumed his place in the boat. That finedrying wind was still singing among the trees, making the leaves rustlesoftly together and filling Henry's mind with good thoughts. But thesegave way after a while to feelings of suspicion. His was an exceedinglysensitive temperament. It often seemed to the others--and the wildernessbegets such beliefs--that he received warnings through the air itself.He could not tell why his nerves were affected in this manner, but heresolved that he would not relax his vigilance a particle, and when thetime came for him to awaken Tom Ross he decided to continue on guardwith him.

  "'Tain't wuth while, Henry," remonstrated Ross. "Nothin's goin' tohappen here on an islan' that ain't got no people but ourselves on it."

  "Tom," replied Henry, "I've got a feeling that I'd like to explore thisisland."

  "Mornin' will be time enough."

  "No, I think I'll do it now. I ought to go all over it in an hour. Don'ttake me for an Indian when I'm coming back and shoot at me."

  "I'd never mistake a Roman senator in his togy for an Injun," repliedTom Ross grinning.

  Henry looked at his clothes, but despite the drying wind they were stillwet.

  "I'll have to go as a Roman after all," he said.

  He fastened the blanket tightly about his body in the Indian fashion,secured his belt with pistol, tomahawk and knife around his waist, andthen, rifle in hand, he stepped from the boat into the forest.

  "Watch good, Tom," he said. "I may be gone some time."

  "You'll find nothin'."

  "Maybe so; maybe not."

  The woods through which Henry now passed were yet wet, and every time hetouched a bough or a sapling showers of little drops fell upon him. Thepatch of forest was dense and the trees large. The trees also grewstraight upward, and Henry concluded at once that he would find alittle distance ahead a ridge that sheltered this portion of the islandfrom the cruel north and northwest winds.

  His belief was verified as the rise began within three hundred yards. Itascended rather abruptly, having a total height of seventy or eightyfeet, and seeming to cross the island from east to west. Standing underthe shadow of a great oak Henry looked down upon the northern half ofthe island, which was quite different in its characteristics from thesouthern half. A portion of it was covered with dwarfed vegetation, butthe rest was bare rock and sand. There were two or three inlets orlanding places on the low shore. As the moonlight was now good, Henrysaw all over this portion of the island, but he could not detect anysign of human habitation.

  "I suppose Tom is right," he said to himself, "and that there is nothingto be seen."

  But he had no idea of going back without exploring thoroughly, and hedescended the slope toward the north. The way led for a little distanceamong the shrub bushes from which the raindrops still fell upon him ashe passed, and then he came into an open space almost circular in shapeand perhaps thirty yards in diameter. Almost in the center of the rock aspring spouted and flowed away through a narrow channel to the lake. Onthe far side of the spring rose four upright stakes in a row about sixfeet apart. Henry wondered what they meant and he approached cautiously,knowing that they had been put there by human hands.

  Some drifting clouds now passed and the moonlight shone with a suddenburst of splendor. Henry was close to the stakes and suddenly heshuddered in every vein. They were about as high as a man's head, firmlyfastened in the ground, and all of them were blackened and charredsomewhat by fire, although their strength was not impaired. At the baseof every one lay hideous relics. Henry shivered again. He knew. HereIndians brought their captives and burned them to death, partly for thesake of their own vengeance and partly to propitiate the mighty spiritsthat had their abode in the depths of the great lakes. He was sure thathis comrades and he had landed upon a sacrificial island, and heresolved that they should depart at the very first light in the morning.

  This island which had seemed so fine and beautiful to him suddenlybecame ghastly and repellent, but his second thought told him that theyhad nothing to fear at present. It was not inhabited. The warriorsmerely came here for the burnings, and then it was quite likely thatthey departed at once.

  Henry examined further. On the bushes beyond the stakes he found amuletsand charms of bone or wood, evidently hung there to ward off evilspirits, and among these bushes he saw more bones of victims. Then henoticed two paths leading away from the place, each to a small inlet,where the boats landed. Calculating by the moon and stars he could nowobtain a general idea of the direction in which they had come and he wassure that the nearest part of the mainland lay to the west. He saw adark line there, and he could not tell whether it was the shore or a lowbank of mist.

  Then he made a diligent exploration of all this part of the island,assuring himself further that it had never been occupied permanently. Hesaw at one place the ruins of a temporary brush shelter, used probablyduring a period of storm like that of the night before, and on the beachhe found the shattered remains of a large canoe. Henry looked down atthe broken canoe thoughtfully. I
t may have been wrecked while on its waywith a victim for the stake, and if the warriors had perished it mighthave been due to the wrath of the Great Spirit.

  He walked slowly back over the ridge through the forest and down to theboat. Tom saw him coming but said nothing until he stepped into the boatbeside him.

  "You stayed a long time," he said, "but I see you've brought nothingback with you."

  "It's true that I've brought nothing with me, but I've found a lot."

  "What did you find, Henry?"

  "I found many bones, the bones of human beings."

  "Men's bones?"

  "Yes. I'm sure that it is an island to which Indiana come to burn theirprisoners, and although none are here now--I've looked it all over--Idon't like it. There's something uncanny about it."

  "An' yet it's a pretty little islan', too," said Tom Ross, thoughtfully,"an' mighty glad we wuz to see it yes'day, when we wuz druv before thathowlin' an' roarin' storm, with but one chance in a hundred uv livin'."

  "That's so," said Henry. "We owe the island a debt of gratitude ifothers don't. I've no doubt that if it were not for this little piece ofland we should have been drowned. Still, the sooner we get away thebetter. How have the others been getting on, Tom?"

  "Sleepin' ez reg'lar an' steady ez clocks. It's wuth while to seefellers snoozin' away so happy."

  Henry smiled. The three, as they lay in the boat, breathing deeply andunconscious of everything, were certainly a picture of rest.

  "How long do you calculate it is to daylight?" asked Henry.

  "Not more'n two hours, an' it's goin' to come bright an' clear, an' witha steady wind that will take us to the south."

  "That's good, and I think that you and I, Tom, ought to be gettingready. This drying wind has been blowing for a long time, and ourclothes should be in condition again. Anyway I'm going to see."

  He took down the garments from the bushes, and found that all were quitedry. Then he and Tom reclothed themselves and laid the apparel for theother three by their sides, ready for them when they should awake. Tompuckered up his lips and blew out a deep breath of pleasure.

  "It may be mighty fine to be a Roman senator in a togy," he said, "butnot in these parts. Give me my good old huntin' shirt an' leggings.Besides, I feel a sight more respectable."

  Shortly, it was dawn, and the three sleepers awoke, glad to have theirclothes dry again, and interested greatly in Henry's exploration of theisland.

  "Jim, you do a little more cooking," said Henry, "and Sol, Tom and Iwill go over to the other end of the island again. When we come backwe'll hoist our sail, have breakfast, and be off."

  They followed the path that Henry had taken during the night, leavingPaul and Jim busy with the cooking utensils. The little patch of forestwas now entirely dry, and a great sun was rising from the easternwaters, tingeing the deep green of the trees with luminous gold. Thelake was once more as smooth and peaceful as if no storm had ever passedover its surface.

  They stopped at the crest of the transverse ridge and saw in the westthe dark line, the nature of which Henry had been unable to decipher bymoonlight. Now they saw that it was land, and they saw, too, anothersight that startled them. Two large canoes were approaching the islandswiftly, and they were already so near that Henry and Shif'less Solcould see the features of their occupants. Neither of the boats had asail. Both were propelled wholly by paddlers--six paddlers to eachcanoe--stalwart, painted Indians, bare of shoulders and chest. But inthe center of the first canoe sat a man with arms bound.

  "It's a victim whom they are bringing for the stake and the sacrifice,"said Henry.

  "He must be from some tribe in the far North," said Shif'less Sol,"'cause all the Indian nations in the valley are allied."

  "He is not from any tribe at all," said Henry. "The prisoner is a whiteman."

  "A white man!" exclaimed Shif'less Sol, "an' you an' me, Henry, knowthat most o' the prisoners who are brought to these parts are capturedin Kentucky."

  "It's so, and I don't think we ought to go away in such a hurry."

  "Meanin' we might be o' help?"

  "Meaning we might be of help."

  Henry watched the boats a minute or two longer, and saw that they werecoming directly for one of the little inlets on the north end of theisland. Moreover, they were coming fast under the long sweep of thepaddles swung by brown and sinewy arms.

  "Tom," he said to Ross, "you go back for Paul. Tell Jim to have the sailup and ready for us when we come, and meanwhile to guard the boat.That's a white man and they intend to burn him as a sacrifice to Manitouor the spirits of the lake. We've got to rescue him."

  The others nodded assent and Tom hurried away after Paul, while Henryand Sol continued to watch the oncoming boats. They crept down the slopeto the very fringe of the trees and lay close there, although they hadlittle fear of discovery, unless it was caused by their own lack ofcaution.

  The boats reached the inlet, and, for a few moments, they were hiddenfrom the two watchers, by the bushes and rocks, but they heard theIndians talking, and Henry was confirmed in his opinion that they didnot dream of any presence besides their own on the island. At lengththey emerged into view again, the prisoner walking between two warriorsin front, and Henry gave a start of horror.

  "Sol," he said in a whisper, "don't you recognize that gray head?"

  "I think I do."

  "Don't you know that tall, slender figure?"

  "I'm shore I do."

  "Sol, that can be nobody but Mr. Silas Pennypacker, to whom Paul and Iwent to school in Kentucky."

  "It's the teacher, ez shore ez you're born."

  Henry's thrill of horror came again. Mr. Pennypacker lived at Wareville,the home of his own family and Paul's. What had happened? There was theexpedition of the harelipped Bird with his powerful force and withcannon! Could it be possible that he had swept Wareville away and thatthe teacher had been given to the Indians for sacrifice? A terribleanger seized him and Shif'less Sol, by his side, was swayed by the sameemotion.

  "It is he, Sol! It is he!" he whispered in intense excitement.

  "Yes, Henry," replied the shiftless one, "it's the teacher."

  "Do you think his presence here means Wareville has been destroyed byBird?"

  "I'm hopin' that it doesn't, Henry."

  Shif'less Sol spoke steadily, but Henry could read the fear in his mind,and the reply made his own fears all the stronger.

  "They are going to sacrifice that good old man, Sol," he said.

  "They mean to do it, but people sometimes mean to do things that theydon't do."

  They remained in silence until Tom returned with Paul, who was excitedgreatly when he learned that Mr. Pennypacker was there a prisoner.

  "Lie perfectly still, all of you, until the time comes," said Henry."We've got to save him, and we can only do it by means of a surprise anda rush."

  The Indians and their prisoner were now not more than a hundred yardsaway, having come into the center of the open circle used for thesacrifice, and they stood there a little while talking. Mr.Pennypacker's arms were bound, but he held himself erect. His face wasturned toward the South, his home, and it seemed to Henry andPaul--although it was fancy, the distance being too great to see--thathis expression was rapt and noble as if he already saw beyond this lifeinto the future. They loved and respected him. Paul had been hisfavorite pupil, and now tears came into the eyes of the boy as hewatched. The old man certainly had seen the stakes, and doubtless he hadsurmised their purpose.

  "What's your plan, Henry?" whispered Shif'less Sol.

  "I think they're going to eat. Probably they've been rowing all themorning and are tired and hungry. They mean after that to go ahead withtheir main purpose, but we'll take 'em while they're eating. I hate tofire on anybody from ambush, but it's got to be done. There's no otherway. We'll all lie close together here, and when the time comes to fire,I'll give the word."

  The Indians sat on the ground after their fashion and began to eat coldfood. Apparent
ly they paid little attention to their prisoner, who stoodnear, and to whom they offered nothing. Why should he eat? He wouldnever be hungry again. Nor need they watch him closely now. They hadleft a man with each of the boats, and even if he should run he couldnot escape them on the island.

  Henry and Paul saw Mr. Pennypacker walk forward a few steps and lookintently at the posts. Then he bowed his gray head and stood quitestill. Both believed that he was praying. Water again rose in Paul'seyes and Henry's too were damp.

  "Boys," whispered Henry, "I think the time has come. Take aim. We'llpick the four on the left, Sol the first on the end, the second for me,Tom the third and Paul the fourth. Now, boys, cock your rifles, and takeaim, the best aim that you ever took in your life, and when I say'Fire!' pull the trigger."

  Every man from the covert did as he was directed. When Henry looked downthe sights and picked out the right place on the broad chest of awarrior, he shuddered a little. He repeated to himself that he did notlike it, this firing from ambush, but there was the old man, whom theyloved, doomed to torture and the sacrifice. His heart hardened likeflint and he cried "Fire!"

  Four rifles flashed in the thicket. Two warriors fell without a sound.Two more leaped away, wounded, and all the others sprang to their feetwith cries of surprise and alarm.

  "Up and at 'em!" cried Henry in a tremendous voice. "Cut them topieces!"

  Drawing their pistols they rushed into the open space and charged uponthe warriors, firing as they came.

  The Indians were Wyandots, men who knew little of fear, but the surpriseand the deadly nature of the attack was too much for them. Perhapssuperstition also mingled with their emotions. Doubtless the spirits ofthe lake were angry with them for some cause, and the best thing theycould do was to leave it as soon as they could. But one as he ran didnot forget to poise his hatchet for a cast at the prisoner. The ReverendSilas Pennypacker would have seen his last sun that day had not Henrynoticed the movement and quickly fired his pistol at the uplifted hand.The bullet pierced the Indian's palm, the tomahawk was dashed from hishand, and with a howl of pain he sped after the others who were flyingfor the boats.

  Henry and his comrades did not pursue. They knew that they must act withall speed, as the Wyandots would quickly recover from their panic, andcome back in a force that was still two to one. A single sweep of hisknife and his old schoolmaster's arms were free. Then he shouted in thedazed man's ears:

  "Come, Mr. Pennypacker, we must run for it! Don't you see who we are?Here's Paul Cotter, and I'm Henry Ware, and these are Sol Hyde and TomRoss! We've got a boat on the other side of the island and the sooner weget there the better!"

  He snatched up a rifle, powder horn and bullet pouch from one of thefallen warriors and thrust them in the old man's hands. Mr. Pennypackerwas still staring at them in a dazed manner, but at last the light brokethrough.

  "Oh, my boys! my brave boys!" he cried. "It is really you, and you havesaved me at the eleventh hour! I had given up all hope, but lo! themiracle is done!"

  Henry took him by the arm, and obeying the impulse he ran with themthrough the wood. Already Henry heard shouts which indicated to him thatthe Wyandots had turned, and, despite his anxiety about Wareville, heasked nothing of Mr. Pennypacker for the present.

  "You lead the way, Paul," he cried. "Jim, of course, has the boat readywith the sail up and the oars in place. We'll be out on the lake in afew minutes, Mr. Pennypacker. There, do you hear that? The Wyandots arenow in full pursuit!"

  A long piercing cry came from the woods behind them. It was the Wyandotleader encouraging his warriors. Henry knew that they would come fast,and Mr. Pennypacker, old and not used to the ways of the wilderness,could go but slowly. Although Long Jim was sure to be ready, theembarkation would be dangerous. It was evident that Mr. Pennypacker,extremely gaunt and thin, was exhausted already by a long march andother hardships. Now he labored heavily, drawing long breaths.

  "Those fellows will be on us in a minute or two, Sol," Henry whisperedto the shiftless one, "unless we burn their faces."

  "I reckon we're able to do the burnin'," replied Shif'less Sol.

  Henry, Tom and Sol dropped to a walk, and in a few moments stoppedaltogether. Paul, with Mr. Pennypacker by his side, kept on for the boatas fast as the old man's strength would allow. Henry caught a glimpse ofa figure running low in the thicket and fired. A cry came back, but hecould not tell whether the wound was mortal. Shif'less Sol fired with asimilar result. Two or three bullets were sent back at them, but nonetouched. Then the three, keeping themselves hidden resumed their flight.They reckoned that the check to the Wyandots would give Paul, with Mr.Pennypacker, time to reach the boat before the warriors could comewithin range of the latter.

  The three now ran very swiftly, and, in a few minutes, were at the edgeof the inlet, where the boat lay, just in time to see Paul pick up theold schoolmaster, who had fallen with exhaustion, and lift him into theboat. The three sprang in after them.

  "We'll watch with the rifles, Sol," exclaimed Henry. "The rest of yourow until we're outside, when the sail can do most of the pulling."

  It was quick work now and skillful. Mr. Pennypacker, scarcely able todraw a breath, lay like a log in the bottom of the boat, but in lessthan a half minute after the three leaped on board they were glidingdown the inlet. Before they reached the open lake the Indians appearedamong the trees and began to shout and fire. But they were in suchhaste that nothing was struck except the boat, which did not mind.Silent Tom, who had restrained his fire, now sent a bullet that struckthe mark and the warriors rushed to cover. Then they were out of theinlet, the fine wind filled the sail, and away they sped toward thesouth.

  The warriors appeared at the edge of the water while the boat's crewwere still within range, but when Henry and the shiftless one raisedtheir rifles they shrank back. They had tested already the quality oftheir foes, and they did not like it. When they reappeared from theshelter of the trees the boat was out of range. Nevertheless they firedtwo or three shots that spattered on the water, waved their tomahawksand shouted in anger. Shif'less Sol stood up in the boat and shoutedback at them:

  "Keep cool, my red brethren, keep cool! We have escaped and you see thatwe have! So do not waste good bullets which you may need another time!And above all keep your tempers! Wise men always do! Farewell!"

  It is not likely that they understood the words of the shiftless one,but certainly the derisive gestures that he made as he sat down were notlost upon them.

  "Sol, can't you ever be serious?" said Henry to his comrade.

  "Be serious? O' course I kin at the right time," replied the shiftlessone, "but what's the use o' bein' serious now? Haven't we rescuedourselves an' the schoolmaster, too? Ain't we in a boat with a sail thatkin leave the two boats o' them warriors far behind, an' ain't we got abee-yu-ti-ful day to sail over a bee-yu-ti-ful lake? So what's the useo' bein' serious? The time fur that wuz ten minutes ago."

  It was evident that the Wyandots considered pursuit useless or that theyfeared the Kentucky rifles, as they gathered in a group on the beach andwatched the flying boat recede.

  "Didn't I tell you it wuzn't wuth while to be serious now, Henry?" saidShif'less Sol. "We're hevin' the easiest kind o' a time an' themwarriors standin' thar on the shore look too funny for anything. I wishI could see their faces. I know they would look jest like the faces o'wolves, when somethin' good had slipped from between their teeth."

  Paul and Henry were busy reviving Mr. Pennypacker. They threw freshwater from the lake over his face and poured more down his throat. Asthey worked with him they noted his emaciated figure. He was only askeleton, and his fainting even in so short a flight was no cause forwonder. Gradually he revived, coughed and sat up.

  "I fell," he said. "It was because I was so weak. What has happened? Arewe not moving?"

  His eyes were yet dim, and he was not more than half conscious.

  "You are with us, your friends. You remember?" said Henry. "We rescuedyou at the place of the stakes, and w
e all got away unhurt. We are in aboat now sailing over Lake Erie."

  "And I saved you a rifle and ammunition," said Paul. "Here they are,ready for you when you land."

  Mr. Pennypacker's dim eyes cleared, and he gazed at the two youths inwonder and affection.

  "It is a miracle--a miracle!" he said. Then he added, after a moment'spause: "To escape thus after all the terrible things that I have seen!"

  Henry shivered a little, and then he asked the fateful questions.

  "And what of Wareville, Mr. Pennypacker? Has it been destroyed? DoPaul's people and mine still live? Have they been taken away ascaptives? Why were you a prisoner?"

  The questions came fast, then they stopped suddenly, and he and Paulwaited with white faces for the answers.

  "Wareville is not destroyed," replied Mr. Pennypacker. "An Englishofficer named Bird, a harelipped man, came with a great force ofIndians, some white men and cannon. They easily took Martin's andRuddle's stations and all the people in them, but they did not goagainst Wareville and other places. I think they feared the power of thegathering Kentuckians. I was at Martin's Station on a visit to an oldfriend when I was captured with the others. Bird and his army thenretreated North with the prisoners, more than three hundred in number,mostly women and children."

  The old man paused a moment and put his hands over his face.

  "I have seen many terrible things," he resumed, "and I cannot forgetthem. They said that we would be taken to Detroit and be held asprisoners there, but it has been a long and terrible march, manyhundreds of miles through the wilderness, and the weak ones--they weremany--could not stand it. They died in the wilderness, often under theIndian tomahawk, and I think that less than half of them will reachDetroit."

  The old schoolmaster paused, his voice choked with emotion, and everyone of the five muttered something deep and wrathful under his breath.

  "I did the best I could," he resumed. "I helped whenever they let me,but the hardships were so great and they permitted us so little restthat I wasted away. I had no more than the strength of a little child.At last the warriors whom you saw took me from the others and turned tothe east. We went through the woods until we came to the great lake. Aterrible storm came up, but when it died we embarked in two boats andwent to the island on which you found me. I did not know the purpose forwhich I was intended until I saw the stakes with those ghastly relicsabout them. Then I made up my mind to bear it as best I could."

  "You were to be made a burnt offering to the spirits of the lakes," saidHenry. "Thank God we came in time. We go now to warn of another andgreater expedition, led by Timmendiquas, the famous chief of theWyandots."