THE INTRUDER.
It has been said that Agnes Altman, seated behind the boulder on the
edge of the rude fortification near the river, was among the most alert
of the pioneers that had taken refuge there until Simon Kenton could
open the way for their escape across the Ohio.
To this fact may be ascribed the startling discovery she made that an
Indian warrior was crouching on the other side of the boulder, no more
than three feet from where she was listening with intensest attention,
and in this discovery she preceded all other members of the company.
The Shawanoe, indeed, was so close that it may be said the slight noise
he made shut out the rustling of the wind and the rippling of the
current against the bank, the overhanging branches and around the
twisted roots along shore.
She heard his body move along the surface of the rock, and, pressing her
ear against it, caught the slight disturbance more distinctly. A solid
substance, as every one knows, is a better conductor of sound than air,
and the medium was of more help to her than she dreamed it could be.
What particular thing her mortal enemy was doing she could not surmise,
nor did it specially concern her to know at that moment; there could be
no doubt that he was in a state of pernicious activity.
The question which the maiden asked herself was, whether she should not
acquaint George Ashbridge with what she had learned. He was almost at
her elbow, as has been explained, and, brief as was the time, several
whispered conferences had taken place.
But, if she should speak or move, the Indian on the other side of the
boulder would take the alarm and make off. This, it would seem, was the
very thing which a young woman in her situation ought to desire above
all others, but Agnes thought the miscreant should not be allowed to
escape in that manner, at least not before he and his people had been
taught a well-needed lesson.
She concluded to remain quiescent and await developments.
The next thing decided upon may have been characteristic of her age and
sex, but, all the same, it was a piece of recklessness almost the equal
of the weakness shown when she placed the knife in the hand of The
Panther. She decided to peep over the top of the rock and learn what the
Shawanoe was doing.
Sufficient moonlight found its way among the branches to permit one to
see indistinctly for a few feet. She was confident that she could give
their enemy one quick glance and then drop back before he could do her
harm.
Her heart beat a little faster than it was wont when, with the silence
of a phantom, she began slowly raising her head, with her eyes fixed on
the top of the rock, which she touched with her hands. Before she
reached the elevation in mind, she discovered the Indian was doing the
same thing, and, fortunately for her, was two or three seconds advanced
with the action.
The crown of the warrior, with the projecting eagle feathers, were as if
they were a part of the darkness itself, so vaguely were they outlined
in the gloom, though their identity was as clear to the girl as if the
noon-day sun was shining upon the painted features.
The head rose just high enough for the glittering eyes to peer over the
horizon of the rock in the endeavor to learn something of the situation
within the interior of the "fort."
Agnes was transfixed for a moment. She feared that if she sank lower, or
changed her position, the Indian would detect it and use his knife or
tomahawk, and the same unspeakable dread prevented her crying out to
warn George Ashbridge or any of the others of their peril.
She had no weapon of her own at command, and very probably it would have
made no difference if she had, for she was but an infant before this
terrible embodiment of strength, treachery and hate. But she felt she
must do something to teach the miscreant the risk he ran by his daring
act.
Groping silently with her right hand among and under the leaves, she
managed to clutch some gravel and dirt, which, with a quick flirt, she
intended to fling in the face of the Indian. It would probably cause him
some inconvenience and considerable surprise, though the weapon was too
insignificant for him to make any use of it.
The result of the novel demonstration can only be guessed, since the
opportunity to try it passed at the moment Agnes was ready to make the
test. When in the act of drawing back her hand, the head of the Shawanoe
vanished as noiselessly as it had obtruded on the scene.
It seems incredible that the savage could have gained any knowledge of
the interior of the fortification or of the location of the defenders.
The gloom was too deep to permit the use of any vision except that of
the owl or cat. He had probably withdrawn to repeat his attempt at some
other point.
Again, the marvelous delicacy of hearing told the girl that her enemy
was in motion, not directly in front of the boulder, but on the left, in
the direction of George Ashbridge. She peered intently at that point,
wondering how much longer she ought to remain motionless and mute, and
on the point of calling, in a suppressed voice, to her lover, when
something whisked by her elbow, too quickly or too dimly seen for her to
comprehend at once what it meant.
Then it flashed upon her.
"George!" she called, in an undertone, so full of dread and terror that
he was at her side in an instant.
"What's the matter? What has happened?"
"There's an Indian within the inclosure!"
"Impossible! You are mistaken!"
"I saw him this minute."
"Where? Tell me how it was!" he whispered, seizing her hand, and quick
to catch her excitement.
"I saw the top of his head peeping over this very rock in front of me. I
was about to call to you, when he dropped down again. The next moment he
passed over the spot where you are. He did it so quickly and silently
that I heard nothing, and caught only the most shadowy glimpses of him."
"Can it be possible? I cannot dispute you, and yet--"
A tall figure, walking erect, assumed form in the gloom, and was upon
the startled lovers before they were aware of it.
Young Ashbridge was in the act of bringing his rifle to a level, when
Weber Hastings spoke.
"Not too fast, younkers. I'm afeared I didn't do the best thing in the
world, when I placed you two so near each other."
"No matter where you placed her," replied the youth, "you did a good
thing for the rest. She has sharper eyes than any of us, for she has
seen what nobody else saw."
"What's that? What's that?"
"Within the last three minutes," said Agnes, "one of the Shawanoes
passed by this boulder behind which I have been sitting, and is now
somewhere within the inclosure. Oh, I wonder if he means any harm to
your folks, George, or mine!"
And spurred by her new terror she hurried across the brief intervening
space to where her mother and Miss Altman were sitting trembling, and
occasionally whispering in the darkness.
Thank heaven! no harm had befallen them, and since there was no call for
her to return to George Ashbridge and Weber Hastings, she remained with
those that were so near and dear to her.
"Them varmints are gettin' pow'rful sassy," was the comment of Hastings,
who, now that the truth was known, seemed to lose all the excitement he
had first shown. "You don't think the gal was mistook?"
"I am sure she was not."
"So am I; stay right here where you be, while I look around for that
varmint; keep a lookout yourself, for he may try to sneak out this way."
"All I want is a chance at him."
"That's right--helloa!"
It so happened that Jim Deane, fully recovered from the effects of the
rattlesnake antidote he had taken earlier in the evening, was on guard
at a point almost opposite where Agnes Altman had made her alarming
discovery. Instead of being sheltered by boulders and rocks, he had lain
down behind some branches and logs, which he himself had helped place in
position weeks before, when he and his companions were caught in their
desperate straits.
Stretched at full length upon his face, with one hand grasping the
barrel of his rifle in front and hearing nothing, he felt something
softly touch his foot. The ranger did not speak or move a limb, but with
rare cleverness, suspected the astonishing truth; one of the Shawanoe
had entered the fort and was making a tour of inspection. The miscreant
would offer harm to no one until he had gathered the knowledge he
sought. Then he doubtless meant to deal some swift, terrible blows with
his knife, and make off before anything could be done in the way of
punishment.
The ranger turned his head and peered over his shoulder behind him.
Lying flat on the ground, while the one that had touched him was on his
feet, the advantage was with the white man. The almost impalpable
outlines of a crouching figure that had paused upon touching his foot
was revealed, and all doubt vanished from the mind of Deane.
His posture, as will be perceived, was an awkward one compared with that
of the Shawanoe. It was necessary for the white man to change it before
he could assume the offensive, and during the making of that change was
the time for the hostile to get in his effective work.
The possibility of his doing so caused no hesitation on the part of Jim
Deane. He flirted himself upon his back, snapped his feet beneath his
body, and came to a standing position in a twinkling. In the act of
doing so, he cocked his rifle.
The click of the hammer warned the intruder of his danger. His situation
was not one in which to make a fight, and he turned to flee. The white
man heard him, and dashed through the gloom to gain sufficient sight to
warrant a shot. The fugitive must have been as familiar with the ground
as was his pursuer, for he showed no hesitation as to his course, nor
did he give any evidence of blundering.
He was so near the side of the inclosure that he had to run but a few
steps when he made a leap which lifted him several feet above the
obstruction, and it was this temporary elevation which gave the ranger
the chance he was seeking. At the moment the figure was at the highest
point of the arch, with his feet gathered beneath him, the ranger
brought his gun to his shoulder and let fly.
A flash, a resounding report, a rasping shriek that resounded through
the woods, and the Shawanoe sprawled forward on his face, with his hands
clutching the leaves and dirt, and then all was still.
"That 'ere varmint ought to have knowed that 'cause a man happens to git
bit by a rattler and takes an over-dose of antidote, it ain't no reason
for stubbin' your toe agin him, and thinkin' he's forgot how to shoot
off a gun."
"You managed that purty well, Jim," quietly remarked Weber Hastings,
appearing that moment at his elbow. "Glad to see you don't forget to
reload as quick as you kin."
"I larned that long ago; wonder if there are any more of the varmints
'bout."
"If there is, they'll be a little more keerful, but there's no saying
what'll be the next thing--sh!"
Through the arches of the forest stole the soft, tremulous notes of a
night bird--so faintly heard that even the trained ears of the ranger
could do no more than guess the distance.
"That's Kenton," he remarked, in a guarded voice; "I'm powerful glad of
it, for now something will be done."