“Are you certain?” asked Haverland, with a painful eagerness.
“As sure as I live!”
“How? when? where did you see them? Pray, answer quick, for I feel that
the lives of precious ones stand in peril.”
“The facts are few--they are. When I went down to the spring, I seed
them pesky varmints thar, and I knowed they war waitin’ for your little
booty, ’cause if they wa’n’t, they’d have walloped me thunderin’ soon.
I seed ’em sneaking ’round, and purtended as though I didn’t ’spicion
nothin’. They’ve found I’s about, and have gone down for more help.
They’ll be back here to-night with a whole pack. Fact, by gracious!”
“You speak truly; and, as matters stand thus, it is time for _action_.”
“Exactly so; and what is it you propose to dew?”
“As you have afforded me such signal aid thus far, I must again ask you
for advice.”
“Pshaw! don’t you know what to dew, man?”
“I have a plan, but I would hear yours first.”
“Wal, I can give it purty soon. You know well enough you’re in tight
quarters, and the best thing you can do is to git away from here a
leetle quicker nor no time. You know the settlements ain’t more nor
twenty miles off, and you’d better pack up and be off, and lose no
time, neither.”
“That was my plan, exactly. But hold! we must go by water, and will it
not be best to wait and go by night, when we will have the darkness to
protect us? We have just learned that the river contains enough enemies
to frustrate our designs should they be known. Yes, we must wait till
night.”
“You’re right there; and, as there is no moon, we’ll have a good
chance, especially as we have to go down stream instead of up. I tell
_yeou_, the war _is_ going on. When I left home, I had an idee things
would be fixed so as to stop these infarnal redskins from committin’ on
their depredations, although they looked mighty squally; but ’tain’t no
use, and it won’t do to trust these critters.”
Shortly after, Haverland turned and entered the house, followed by
Seth. He called his wife and sister in, and explained, in a few words,
the circumstances. It was but a realization of the fears entertained,
and no time was lost in useless laments. Preparations were immediately
made for the removal. The woodman owned a large boat, somewhat similar
to the flat-boats seen at this day upon the western waters. This was
hauled in beneath the shrubbery which overhung the bank, and into
this their things were placed. During the removal Seth remained along
the river-bank, keeping watch of the stream, lest their enemies might
return unawares.
The removal occupied most of the afternoon, and it was not until the
shadows were lengthening across the river, that the last article was
placed on board. This completed, all seated themselves in the boat,
and waited for the rapidly approaching darkness, to glide out into the
stream.
“It is hard,” said Haverland, somewhat moodily, “to leave one’s home
after all the difficulty in rearing it is finished.”
“Fact, by gracious!” added Seth, whom Mary eyed very closely, as if not
satisfied with the fellow’s ways and looks.
“But it is best, dear husband. Let us hope, now, that the war is ended,
and that, as we have passed through as great dangers as those that now
threaten us, the time is not far distant when we may return to this
spot with safety.”
“We can but die once,” said Mary, abstractedly, “and I am ready for any
fate.”
Seth studied her face with a quick, keen glance, then smiled, and said:
“Oh, you look a here, now. _I_ am captain here, by your leave, my
dears, and I ain’t goin’ to allow any sick stomachs in this here crew.”
His sunny face seemed greatly to encourage the little band.
“I wouldn’t fear to remain here now,” said Ina, bravely; “I am _sure_
we soon may return. I _feel_ it.”
Haverland kissed his child, but made no further reply, and all relapsed
into a stillness, and ceased further conversation. There was something
in the gathering gloom around, something in the peculiar situation in
which they were placed, that imparted a despondency to all. The boat
was still fastened to the shore, and the time for loosening it was
close at hand. Mrs. Haverland had passed within the rude cabin, the
door of which remained open, while Seth and the husband remained in the
stern. Ina sat near at hand, and had fallen into the same silence that
rested upon the others.
“Doesn’t it look dark and awful back there?” she asked, in a whisper,
of Seth, pointing toward the shore.
“It does somewhat, I think.”
“And yet I wouldn’t be afraid to go back to the house.”
“You’d better stay in the boat, young ’un.”
“You think I am _afraid_, do you?” she said, bounding out the boat to
the shore.
“Ina! Ina! what do you mean?” asked the father, sternly.
“Oh, nothing; only I want to take a little run to ease my limbs.”
“Come back here instantly!”
“Yes--oh, father! quick! quick! come take me!”
“Seize the oar and shove out!” commanded Seth, springing into the
water, and shoving the boat off.
“But, for God’s sake, my child!”
“You can’t help her--the Injins have got her. I see ’em; drop quick,
they’re goin’ to fire! Look out!”
At that instant there was the sharp crack of several rifles from the
shore, and several tongues of fire flamed from the darkness, and the
wild yell of a number of Indians pealed out in horrid strength.
Had it not been for Seth all would have been lost. He comprehended
every thing in an instant, and saved the others.
“Oh, father! mother! The Indians have got me!” came in agonized accents
from the shore.
“Merciful God! must I see my child perish without heeding her cry?”
groaned Haverland, in spirit.
“No, they won’t hurt her, and we must take care of ourselves while we
can. Don’t stand up, for they can see you.”
“Father, will you leave me?” came again in heart-rending tones.
“Don’t be scart, young ’un,” called out Seth; “keep up a good heart.
I’ll git you agin ef you behave yourself. I will, as sure as I am Seth
Jones. Just keep up pluck, little one.” The last words were shouted
loudly, for the boat was fast gliding into the stream.
The mother had heard all, and said nothing. She comprehended it,
and with a groan sank back upon a seat. Mary’s eyes flashed like a
tigress at bay; and she did not cease to cast looks of indignation
at Seth, for leaving the child to her horrid fate so coolly. But she
said nothing--was as quiet and pale as a statue. Seth eyed her like a
lynx; his eyeballs seemed like fire. But he was as cool as if at his
ease perfectly; and he quickly made all feel that he was born for such
appalling emergencies.
They were now within the center of the stream, and moving quite
rapidly. The darkness was so great that the shores were now vailed
from sight. And with hearts in as deep a gloom the fugitives floated
downward.