So toilsome was the road to trace, and so far away was the fortified
camp of our heroes, that the sun was almost setting before Benee arrived
with his precious charge.
Why should I make any attempt to describe the meeting of Roland and Dick
with the long-lost Peggy?
Roland and she had always been as brother and sister, and now that they
were once more united, all her joy found vent in a flood of tears, which
her brother did what he could to stem.
It seemed hardly possible that she should be here safe and sound, and in
the presence of those who loved her so well and dearly.
And here, too, was Brawn, who was delirious with joy, and honest Bill
with his meerschaum.
"Oh, surely I shall not awake and find it all a dream!" she cried in
terror. "Awake and find myself still in that awful palace, with its
dreadful surroundings and the odour of death everywhere! Oh--h!"
The girl shuddered.
"Dear Peggy," said Dick tenderly, "this is no dream; you are with us
again, and we with you. All the past is as nothing. Let us live for
the future. Is that right, Roland?"
"Yes, you must forget the past, Peggy," said Roland. "Dick is right.
The past shall be buried. We are young yet. The world is all before
us. So come, laugh, and be happy, Peggy."
"And this charming child here, who is she?" said Dick. He alluded to
Weenah.
"That is little Weenah, a daughter of the wilds, a child of the desert.
Nay, but no child after all, are you, Weenah?"
Weenah bent her dark eyes on the ground.
"I am nothing," she said. "I am nobody, only--Benee's."
"But, Weenah," said Peggy, taking the girl by the hand, "oh, how I shall
miss you when you go!"
"Go?" said Weenah wonderingly.
"Yes, dear, you have a father and a mother, who are fond of you. Must
you not return soon to them?"
"My father and my mother I love," replied Weenah. "And you I love, for
you have taught me to pray to the pale-face's God. You have taught me
many, many things that are good and beautiful. My life now is all joy
and brightness, and so, though I love my mother and my father, oh! bid
me not to leave you."
All this was spoken in the language of the country. It was Greek to
those around them, but even Bill could see that the dark-eyed maiden was
pleading for something, for her hand was in Peggy's, her eyes upon hers.
----
It was just at this moment that scouts came hurrying in from the forest,
bringing news that was startling enough, as well as surprising.
These men had come speedily in, almost as fleet of foot as deer, and the
word they brought was that the savages, at least six hundred strong,
were not more than three hours distant.
Roland showed no excitement, whatever he might feel. Nor did Dick. Yet
both were ready for action.
Burly Bill, who had been quietly smoking a little way off, put his great
thumb in the bowl of his meerschaum, and stowed away that faithful
companion of his in his coat-pocket.
Can a young fellow still in his teens, and whom we older men are all too
apt to sneer at as a mere boy, prove himself a good general. He may and
he can, if he has grit in him and a head of some sort surmounting his
shoulders.
From what followed I think Roland proved that he was in possession of
both.
Well, he had descended from a long line of hardy Cornish ancestors, and
there is more in good blood than we are apt to believe.
He came to the front now at all events, and Dick and Bill, to say
nothing of Benee, Rodrigo, and the other canoe captains, were ready to
obey his every command.
Roland called a council of war at once, and it did not take long to come
to a decision.
Our chief hero was the principal speaker. But brave men do not lose
much time in words.
"Boys," he said, "we've got to fight these rascally savages. That's so,
I think?"
"That's so," was the chorus.
"Well, and we've got to beat them, too. We want to give them something
that shall keep them both quiet and civil until we can afford to send
out a few missionaries to improve their morals.
"Now, Rodrigo, I cannot force you to fight."
"Force, sir? I need no force. Command me."
"Well, I will. I wish to outflank these beggars. You and our Indians,
with Benee as your guide, are just the men to do so.
"The moon will be up in another hour. It will be the harvest-moon in
England. The harvest-moon here, too--but a harvest, alas! of blood.
"Now, Benee," he continued, "as soon as we are ready, guide these men
with Captain Rodrigo for some distance down-stream, then curl round the
savages, and when they begin to retreat, or even before that, attack
them in the rear. Good luck to you!"
As silently as ghosts two hundred and fifty well-armed Indians, a short
time after Roland made that brave little speech, glided down the brow of
the hill, and disappeared in the woods beyond.
Though our heroes listened, they could not hear a sound, not even the
crackling of a bush or broken branch.
Soon the moon glared red through the topmost boughs of the far-off
trees, and flooded all the land with a light almost as bright as day.
The stars above, that before had glittered on the river's rippling
breast, and the stars beneath--those wondrous flitting
fire-insects--paled before its beams, and the night-birds sought for
shelter in caves among the rocks. So over all the prairie and woodlands
there fell a stillness that was almost oppressive. It was as if Nature
held her breath, expectant of the fight that was to follow.
Nor was that fight very long delayed. But it must have been well on
towards midnight before the first indication of an approaching foe was
made manifest.
Only a long, mournful hoot, away in the bush, and bearing a close
resemblance to that of the owl.
It was repeated here and there from different quarters, and our heroes
knew that an attack was imminent.
There was in the centre of the camp a roomy cave. In this all stores had
been placed, with water enough for a night at all events, and here were
Peggy and Weenah safely guarded by Brawn. Roland had managed to make
the darkness visible by lighting two candles and placing them on the
wall.
In a smaller cave was Peter, and as he had given evidence lately of a
great desire to escape, the boys had taken the liberty to rope him.
"You shall live to repent this," hissed the man through his teeth.
He had thrown overboard all his plausibility now, and assumed his
natural self--the dangerous villain.
"Have a care," replied Dick, "or you will not live long enough to repent
of anything."
On one side of the camp was the river, down under a cliff of
considerable height. It was very quiet and sluggish just here, and its
gentle whispering was no louder than a light breeze sighing through
forest trees.
There were, therefore, really only three sides of the parapet and hill
to defend.
And now Burly Bill's quick ear caught the sound of rustling down below.
"The savages are on us," he said quietly.
"Then give them a volley to begin with," answered Roland.
The white men started down scores of huge stones; but this was more for
the purpose of bringing the savages into sight than with a view to wound
or kill any.
It had the desired effect, and probably another, for the cannibals must
have believed the pale-faces had no other means of defence.
They were seen now in the bright moonlight scrambling up-hill in scores,
with knives in their mouths and spears on their backs.
"Fire straight and steadily, men," cried the young chief, Roland. "Fire
independently, and every man at the enemy in front of him."
A well-aimed and rattling volley, followed by another and another, made
the Indians pause. The number of dead and wounded was great, and
impeded the progress of those who would have rushed up and on.
Volley after volley was now poured into the savage ranks, but they came
pressing up from behind as black and fierce and numerous as a colony of
mountain-ants.
Their yelling and war-cries were terrible to hear.
But the continuous volley-firing still kept them at bay.
"The rockets, Dick, are they ready?"
"Yes, captain, all ready."
"Try the effect of these."
It was a fearful sight to witness those dread weapons of warfare tear
through the ranks of these shrieking demons.
Death and mutilation was dealt on every side, and the fire from the
ramparts grew fiercer and fiercer.
Yet so terrible in their battle-wrath are these cannibals, that--well
our heroes knew--if they were to scale the ramparts, even the white men
would not be able to stand against them.
Then the fight would degenerate into a massacre, and this would be
followed by an orgie too awful to contemplate.
At this moment there could not have been fewer than five hundred savages
striving to capture the little hill on which stood the camp, and
Roland's men in all were barely eighty. Some who had exposed themselves
were speedily brought down with poisoned arrows, and already lay
writhing in the agonies of spasmodic death.
But see, led on by the chief Kaloomah himself, who seems to bear a
charmed life, the foremost ranks of those sable warriors have already
all but gained footing on the ramparts, while with axe and adze the
pale-faces endeavour to repel them.
In vain!
Kaloomah--great knife in hand--and at least a score of his braves have
effected an entrance, and the whites, though fighting bravely, are being
pushed, if not driven back.
It is a terrible moment!