WATCHING AND WAITING.
Deane had rapidly regained control of his senses during the past few
minutes. The open air, the continued action of his body and the growing
consciousness of the imminent peril of the company, combined to give him
mastery over the insidious enemy that he had taken into his mouth to
steal away his brains.
By this time, too, his friends were convinced that he was not talking at
random, and that when he spoke of the "fort" near at hand he had ground
for his words.
"Wal, Jim," remarked Hastings, in a low voice, as the party gathered
closely around the fellow in the gloom; "I guess you understand matters
better than you did a few minutes ago. Take the lead and we'll follow,
but don't forget that a feller's eyes ain't of much use to him just
now."
"I, I think I've got my bearings; the river off here to the left is how
fur away?"
"Something like a hundred yards--a little more I reckon."
"That's what I thought, and Rattlesnake Gulch is right ahead. Wal, in a
straight line down the slope toward the river is a lot of limbs, brush
and stones that we got together some months ago, when the varmints
cornered us, or wiped us nearly all out. If we're going to make a halt,
that's the place for us."
"Go ahead, then, for it won't be long afore the varmints will notice we
have stopped."
The ranger--he paddled no longer--took charge of matters with the
assurance of one who feels himself master of the situation. As they
advanced, the ground inclined downward to the river. The wood was quite
open, but considerable undergrowth appeared, through which it was
impossible even for the rangers to make their way in the darkness
without some rustling, which was almost certain to betray their
movements to the Indians.
Fortunately, however, they had not far to go to their destination.
Hastings, who was but a pace or two behind Deane, became conscious at
the end of a few minutes that he had stopped.
"Here we are," whispered the guide; "pass the word back for 'em to look
out they don't stumble, for things are rough round here."
Not only did the leader of the company notify his own men, who were
instant to understand the situation, but they assisted the Ashbridges
and Altmans into the exceedingly rude fortification. The utmost care was
used, but, in spite of all, there were several stumbles, and more than
one hasty exclamation at the accident.
When matters became clear to all, as they soon did, it was learned that
they were now upon the spot where Hastings and his companions made their
last stand when attacked by The Panther and his Shawanoes, some months
before. Foreseeing the desperate struggle at hand, the scouts had seized
the brief time at their command to throw up some intrenchments.
An ash that had been splintered by lightning gave much help, and laid
the foundation, as may be said, of the fortification. The trunk had been
wrenched off a dozen feet above ground, leaving the stump, with its
hundreds of needle-like points, projecting upward. The fragments of
several large limbs were of help, and a prostrate tree, some yards away,
was of incalculable benefit, even though the trunk was less than a foot
in diameter.
Then there were a few boulders and large stones scattered around.
Ordinarily, a dozen men would hesitate to try to move them, but, with
the energy of desperation, these had been tumbled into place, and served
their part well.
The conclusion of all this haste and effort to throw up a protection
around themselves was, that a very primitive and broken fortification
extended in an irregular circle from the splintered tree, right and
left, until it enclosed a space thirty feet across at its largest
diameter. It was not a complete circle, however, but formed
three-fourths of one. The side toward the river was left open, so as to
preserve the means of retreat if the worst came.
The worst did come, as has been intimated, and through this opening the
few defenders that were left, after the resistless assault of The
Panther and his warriors, dashed in the supreme effort to save their
lives. Such is an imperfect description of the "fort" into which the
pioneers were conducted, when the time arrived for them to essay no
further concealment of their intention to leave Rattlesnake Gulch wholly
to itself.
Fifteen or twenty minutes were used by the fugitives, as they may be
considered, in "locating" themselves. In other words, they improved the
time in learning, so far as possible, their immediate surroundings, and
the best means of defence against the Shawanoes, that were certain to
leave them but a short time to themselves.
Above all things, it was necessary that Hastings and his men should know
this, and, with the help of Deane, the knowledge was soon acquired.
Finally, Hastings stationed his men in their proper positions, and then
conducted the others to a spot near the splintered ash. He made sure
that all were near him, and that each heard every word he spoke, though
he guarded the utterances with a care that would have shut them from a
listening Shawanoe a rod away.
"You understand, my friends, that this place is only a makeshift; we're
powerful lucky that Jim got sober in time to find it for us. This is the
safest spot, and here the women and children will stay till we leave."
"And when is that likely to be?" asked Mr. Altman.
"I can't say till Kenton gets back; he'll be here afore long."
"Suppose anything happens to him and Boone?" suggested Mr. Ashbridge.
"Something like that has been said afore; Boone and Kenton are always
having something happen to them, but that both of 'em should slip up and
not show themselves agin--why, that sort of thing can't be."
"It might take place," remarked young Ashbridge, whose faith in the two
great pioneers equaled that of Hastings, "but it is so unlikely that it
isn't worth considering it. As I understand it, we have to wait here
until Kenton comes back."
"You've hit it, younker, to a dot. You folks can see that a chap's eyes
ain't of much account, so you must all make the best use of your ears."
"I can see a little," said Agnes Altman, "and I shall believe that our
eyes are almost as likely as our ears to help us."
"You've got a wise head on your shoulders," said the ranger, admiringly.
"About all that you folks need to remember is, that the varmints are all
around us, and where there's one of 'em, he's sure to try some trick.
Look out for him."
"Surely, Mr. Hastings, you don't mean that Mr. Altman and my son shall
all stay in this spot, merely to keep company with our families, when
every man is needed to guard the approaches to this enclosure."
"Wal, I'll own that was my idea, but we can turn you to use if you say
so."
"We do say so, most decidedly," Mr. Altman was quick to remark.
"Come with me."
Thereupon, the leader of the rangers gave Mr. Altman, Ashbridge, and the
son their several stations. Each had his rifle, and was simply to do his
utmost to guard against the insidious approach of the Shawanoes, who, if
they had not already located them, were certain to do so very soon.
The instructions of Hastings to his men was, that the moment they
discovered an Indian they should wait only long enough to make sure of
no mistake, and then shoot to kill.
"Every varmint counts at a time like this," he said, significantly, "and
if any one is lucky enough to drop The Panther, it'll be worth a dozen
warriors."
When all the male members were placed, they were crouching behind
boulders, limbs, and ridges of dirt in the irregular three-quarter
circle, and separated from each other by a space varying from two yards
to a distance twice as great.
Whether intentional or otherwise, Hastings stationed George Ashbridge
immediately on the left of Agnes Altman, while her mother, Mrs.
Ashbridge, and Mabel were near at hand. The lovers were so close,
indeed, that there was little risk in their exchanging a whispered word
or two at intervals. When either raised his or her head, the other could
catch the faint outlines of the loved one.
While the temporary refuge was a most fortunate thing for the distressed
fugitives, it had several features which caused uneasiness to Hastings
and his experienced rangers. Although the moon soon appeared in the sky,
its light was treacherous and uncertain, because of the skurrying
clouds. Sometimes an object would be visible for a number of rods on the
river, and then it took a pair of keen eyes to identify a canoe at half
that distance.
More serious, however, than all was the west wind. This blew steadily,
and with considerable force, directly upon the river. It sighed among
the trees, and so stirred the branches that the rustling was continuous.
Thus it afforded a diversion that was wholly in favor of the Indians,
for, without taking any special precaution, they could approach as near
as they chose to the fortification, with little, if any, fear of
detection.
That they would be quick to turn this to account was certain.
Hastings had not forgotten to impress his friends with the fact that
they were awaiting the coming of Simon Kenton, and incidentally of
Daniel Boone. Each, when he did appear, would do so with the
noiselessness of The Panther himself, and too great care could not he
taken to guard against mistaking them for enemies.
There really was little, if any, danger of this, since all understood
the situation, and would run no risk of harming their friends.
Furthermore, Kenton and Boone were sure to give timely notice of their
coming by means of signals which every one of the rangers would
understand.
The sleep of most of the men had been broken and scant during the past
twenty-four hours, but the situation was so strained that there was no
danger of any one falling asleep until the peril passed. If any one
thing was certain, it was that the watch within that rough circle would
be unremitting and vigilant while it lasted.
Mabel Ashbridge laid her head on the lap of her mother, who like Mrs.
Altman, sat with her back against the splintered ash, and with little
appreciation of the fearful shadow that rested upon all, soon sank into
unconsciousness. The mothers were so nervous and unstrung that though
they occasionally shut their eyes, the slumber was fitful and brief.
But among all the party there was none more alert than Agnes Altman. She
had not yet quite forgiven herself for her weakness in showing mercy to
the imprisoned Panther the night before, when he came within a hair of
slaying her beloved George Ashbridge, and, without hinting her intention
to any one, she determined that, with the help of heaven, she would do
something to erase that criminal imprudence, as she viewed it, on her
part.
It may have been this resolution, supplemented by her own consummate
faculties of sight and vision, or, more properly, it was both, that
brought to her a knowledge of peril before it was suspected by any one
of the rangers, or even by George Ashbridge, who, as may be said, was at
her elbow.
Agnes was seated on the leaves, the same as her mother, and with her
back resting against a boulder, which rose a few inches above her head.
In this posture she closed her eyes. They could be of no use to her, and
by shutting them she was able to concentrate her faculties into the
single one of listening; upon that alone she now placed her dependence.
And seated thus, and listening with absorbing intensity, she speedily
became aware of a startling fact; some one was directly on the other
side of the boulder, and separated by no more than three feet from her.
That that some one was a Shawanoe Indian was as certain as that her name
was Agnes Altman.