BESIEGED.
This kind of warfare was new to me. Although living on the frontier so
far from any other settlement, our cabin had never before been attacked
by savages.
My father was killed some distance away from home, and, judging from the
signs nearabout the place where he had been tortured to death, it seemed
certain that no more than three Indians had captured him.
Most likely it was a party of hunters, who had not really come out for
mischief, but seeing an opportunity to take the life of a white man
seized upon it. If they had been on the warpath, then beyond a
peradventure our cabin would have been attacked.
To Simon Kenton, however, this sort of work was by no means new. He had
been besieged many times, as we knew from the stories the young man told
us a short time previous; but I ventured to say that never before had he
been pitted against the painted foes with so small a force, and in a
place where it was not probable any help could come.
Our cabin was situated so far back from the river that those passing up
or down the stream would not suspect a habitation was near at hand, and,
unless well acquainted with the clearing, an hundred men might go back
and forth, never thinking that a settler had ventured in this vicinity.
Therefore it was that I, and most likely Simon Kenton also, realized how
entirely alone we were. Unless we could beat off this foe which had so
suddenly assailed us, within a comparatively short time, the end was
near at hand for all, because no preparations had been made for a siege,
and our store of provisions and water, even with careful husbanding,
must be exhausted within a few days.
As all this came into my mind, and I learned that it was possible for
the Indians to send their bullets inside, through the chinks between the
logs, provided they were sufficiently good marksmen, my heart sank
within me. I said to myself that Kenton had come too late to be of
service to us, and too soon for his own safety.
As I have said, the savages had crept up under the cover of darkness
close beneath the walls of the cabin, and were able to shoot at us with
but little danger to themselves. Our only hope lay in dislodging them
from their place of vantage, and this much I realized fully even though
unexperienced in warfare.
On reading what is here set down one may say that a boy of sixteen,
situated as was I at that moment, would not thus calmly weigh the
chances for and against a successful defense. In reply to such
criticism, I would say that in my opinion any lad of ordinary
intelligence must perforce have had much the same thoughts, because of
the ample time for reflection.
After the first volley, and until perhaps ten minutes had elapsed, the
Indians gave no sign of life. All was still as if we three were alone in
the wilderness--as if it had been some hideous nightmare which awakened
us. During such time, Simon Kenton stood like a statue; but in such
attitude as gave me to understand that all his senses were alert. He was
an experienced Indian fighter, listening for some token which should
give him a clue as to how he might best protect his own life.
My mother remained near one of the loopholes at the rear of the house,
also on the alert, and I had not moved from the position taken up when
we made our first poor preparations for the defense.
Suddenly, and when I had come to believe that our chances for a
successful defense were slight indeed, Simon Kenton moved swiftly, yet
noiselessly, to that side of the room opposite where I was standing,
thrust the muzzle of his rifle between the logs near to the ground and
fired.
A cry of pain followed the report of the weapon, and it was as if the
noise had but just died away, when the young man had his rifle charged
once more, so rapid were his movements.
One, two, three minutes, perhaps, passed in silence, and again, but in
another quarter, did Kenton repeat his maneuver, although during this
time I had heard nothing whatsoever save my own labored breathing.
A second cry from without told that two of the painted snakes had
received a more or less serious dose of lead without having inflicted
injury upon us.
I knew that Kenton's acts had been the result of his keen sense of
hearing, and said to myself that the man must have been fitted by nature
for work like this, since it would be impossible for any person to train
his ears to such perfection.
This thought was in my mind when I heard a rustling of the foliage on
the outside near where I stood, and that instant I made as if to copy
the example of my companion.
"It is too late now," he said in a low tone. "The snakes are creepin'
off satisfied that they are like to get the worst of such a game. They
will hatch up some other plan before troublin' us again."
"But surely we haven't bested them so soon as this," I replied like a
stupid, and he laughed as if there was somewhat of humor in my remark.
"They have come here to plunder this cabin, and are not like to draw off
so soon. We will have enough of their company within the next four and
twenty hours; but for a time I reckon we have got a breathin' spell.
This is the way the British king wages war; provokin' the savages
against peaceful settlers; but once Major Clarke has broken up the
English nests, I'll venture to say the scurvy redcoats will turn their
attention to other matters than playin' the part of butchers."
"If we had only started to meet Major Clarke's force when you first
arrived," I said despondently, whereat Simon Kenton clapped me on the
shoulder in a friendly fashion, as he cried:
"This is no time to be thinking of what might have happened, Louis
Nelson. Men on the frontier must ever look forward, else by gazing
backward their hearts may grow timorous. Until we have driven off these
savages it should be to us as if Major Clarke's force had never set
out."
Mother had made no attempt to join in the conversation. Her pale face
and quivering lips told that she was thinking of that time, only such a
short distance in the past, when father had been in the clutches of
those who at that moment thirsted for our blood, and grief overshadowed
all the fears which the future could present.
Observing her, and knowing full well what terrible memories had come
trooping into her mind, I fell silent, striving as best I could to keep
back the timorousness which threatened to overcome me as I thus realized
what the wretches on the outside would do once our feeble defense was
overcome.
Simon Kenton moved here and there noiselessly as a cat, intent only upon
learning so much of what might be going on outside as his ears could
tell him.
While I remained motionless and silent at the post assigned me, he never
ceased for an instant his stealthy movements, and the knowledge that he
was so keenly on the alert did much toward strengthening my weak heart.
When perhaps an hour had passed thus in silence, a great hope came to
me, and foolishly I gave it words.
"The savages, finding that we were prepared for them, have drawn off," I
said, whereat Kenton smiled pityingly as one might at the foolish remark
of a child.
"We are not rid of them so easily, else are they different from any of
the scoundrels I have chanced to come across. Once having made an
attack, and blood has been drawn, I warrant you, we must beat them off
by sheer force before we can count on their leaving this clearin'."
When perhaps another hour had passed, and yet the enemy made no sign, I
was grown more courageous, and ate of the corn cake and dried venison
which had been set out for our refreshment; but mother remained wrapped
in gloomy thought, and Simon Kenton did not even for the slightest space
of time relax his vigilance.
It must have been well on toward morning before we heard aught more of
those whose great desire was to shed our blood.
Then the first intimation I had of any movement was the report of
Kenton's rifle.
"Did you see anything?" I asked in a tremor.
"No; but they are comin' this way with brushwood, havin' an idea to set
fire to the cabin."
Even though the danger which beset us was great, I could not repress my
curiosity. It seemed almost as if he had made me a foolish answer, for
how might a man know, when it was so dark that one could not see three
paces from the cabin in either direction, that the savages were making
ready for any such attempt, and I asked how he was so positive as to
their movements.
"I have heard them rippin' off the dry branches with their knives, and,
just before I fired, knew from the noise in the thicket that they were
draggin' the brushwood this way."
I was almost bewildered by this man's knowledge of woodcraft; but
refrained from commenting, contenting myself by saying in a tone of
satisfaction:
"They will not make much headway at setting these green logs on fire. It
is but two days since the rain came down in such torrents that the
outside of the cabin must be sodden with water."
"They may succeed in fillin' the room with smoke; but that counts for
little. The flames will give us an opportunity which must not be
neglected."
It is possible that the savages came to understand all this before
carrying out the plan which Kenton believed had been formed, for after
he discharged his rifle we heard no more of them, and, finally, when it
seemed as if at least eight and forty hours were passed, the gray light
came stealing through the thicket, slowly dispelling the darkness, until
we had clear range of vision from the loopholes on either hand.
Twenty paces from the front of the house lay a pile of dry brush,
telling that Simon Kenton's ears had not deceived him.
There were no signs of our foe. So far as one's eyes might give him
information, we were alone in the thicket with none to molest or make
afraid.
Kenton set about making a blaze in the fireplace, and such act aroused
my mother from her sorrowful memories to a realization of the present.
All her housewifely instincts took possession of her once more, and she
set about preparing breakfast--perhaps the last meal we might ever eat.
"Think you the savages count on starving us out?" I asked, rather for
the purpose of starting a conversation than to gain information.
"It may be that all the party are not yet arrived, and those who made
the first attack are waitin' for more to come up. If the entire force is
here, then certain it is they count on starvin' us, although so far as
the villains know, that may prove a long task. Were you and I alone, I
should favor tryin' to give 'em the slip after midnight; but it would be
folly to attempt anything of the kind while your mother is to be
protected."
"You will not find her a coward," I said proudly, whereat he replied
with a laugh:
"Of that we have already had good proof; but there would be too much
danger in attemptin' to fight our way out while she was with us. After a
time----"
He was interrupted by rifle shots in the distance. First one, then a
couple, and, after an interval of four or five seconds, what sounded
like a regular volley.
Then came scattering shots, by which I understood that whoever was
engaged in deadly combat had succeeded in gaining a shelter, and was
firing only when the possibility of hitting a target presented itself.
"Can it be that some of Major Clarke's force have come our way?" I asked
as a great hope came into my heart; but Simon Kenton speedily dashed it.
"The major's men are to sail down the river, and would not stop this
side of Corn Island, save through dire necessity."
"Then who can the savages have been firing at?"
"Some white man must have ventured this way, as did I, and walked into
the very thick of them."
"But all the while we have lived here you are the first who has come to
this clearing by accident," I replied, still bent on believing that some
of the major's forces must have gone out of their road, and were thus
near enough to lend aid in our time of trouble.
"It is a trapper or, a settler," Kenton said decisively, with the air of
one who will not admit himself at fault. "The question in my mind is
whether I'm not bound to lend a hand."
"Surely you would never think of leaving the cabin in daylight, when you
know beyond a peradventure that the savages are watching it?" my mother
said in alarm, and Kenton turned away as if realizing the truth of her
words.
It is not possible for me to set down on paper such as will enable
another to understand our feelings during this time when we knew white
men were struggling for life, and needing the aid which we were
powerless to give.
It seemed little short of the veriest cowardice to remain within shelter
at such a time, and yet all of us knew full well that speedy death would
come to him who should venture out.
Five minutes after the first report was heard all was silent again, for
mayhap half an hour, during which time each of us, even Kenton, had come
to hope the Indians were baffled in their effort to murder, and with
that hope came into my mind a most intense regret that we had not been
able to give warning of our sore need.
I persisted in believing that some of Major Clarke's men had been near
at hand, and said to myself we might have escaped all our perils could
it have been possible to give an alarm.
When half an hour had passed the firing broke out again, not in volleys,
but with a shot at intervals of ten or fifteen seconds, and then we all
fancied screams of pain and exultation could be heard.
"The savages have succeeded!" Kenton said curtly. "Whoever blundered
this way has already paid for the mistake, or will before the sun rises
again."
Mother, her mind once more in the past, turned pale as death and I
trembled like one with an ague, for it seemed at the moment as if this
was a token of what our fate would be.
The breakfast which mother had been preparing was neglected until some
time later, when Simon Kenton said with an evident effort at
cheerfulness:
"We're playin' the fool to stand here as if waitin' for the painted
scoundrels to do their will. We have no reason to despair because they
have captured some unfortunate; but should be all the more determined to
worst them."
Then he deftly finished the work mother had begun, and insisted upon our
sharing in the meal, for, according to his belief, there was no reason
why we need stand close guard now that the sun had risen.
Under such circumstances it was difficult to eat, at least I found it
so; food well-nigh choked me, but I forced it down because of his stern
command, and we made at least the semblance of eating breakfast, with as
much zest as you can fancy people display under the shadow of the
gallows.
When the pretense of a meal had come to an end, Kenton got up from the
table and stood at the loophole in the door an instant, giving vent to a
low exclamation of surprise or dismay as he peered forth.
In a twinkling I was by his side, and there saw that which caused the
cold chill of fear to run down my back.
Directly in front of the cabin, toward the river, beyond range of our
rifles, stood a man and a boy, each bound hand and foot to a tree trunk.
It was the report of their guns that we heard, and fortune had been
unkind to them, else death would have come during the fight. It had
been delayed that it might be accompanied by the keenest torture.
"Are they neighbors of yours?" Kenton asked.
"So far as I know, there are no settlers nearabout."
"Then this man and boy have come lookin' for a place to make a clearin',
or are workin' their way eastward from some point below on the river."
This did not seem a reasonable explanation, to my mind, for if the
prisoners had been coming up the river they would not have ventured so
far away as must have been the case when the Indians discovered them;
but my heart was too heavy to admit of making any argument against his
assertion, which, as a matter of fact, was of but little consequence now
that they were doomed to a cruel death.
And that they were doomed we knew full well. The savages were counting
on torturing them where we might have a full view of the horrible
spectacle, and we could not hope anything would happen to prevent it.
On the evening previous Simon Kenton had told us the story of a settler
who was beset even as we were then, and whose nearest neighbor was
tortured at the stake within his range of vision that the helpless man
might see what was in store for him when he could no longer make any
defense.
While hearing the story it was impossible for me to realize how
agonizing must have been the position of the besieged man. Now I
understood it keenly, and resolved not to look out from that side of the
house again, lest the painted fiends should begin their horrible work
before night came.
Mother knew from our conversation what it was we gazed at, and remained
nearabout the fireplace striving to choke back the sobs of grief and
sympathy which shook her frame.
After gazing upon the helpless captives five minutes or more, as if to
picture indelibly upon his mind all the surroundings, Simon Kenton
began moving to and fro across the end of the room, not on the alert
against the enemy, but apparently plunged in deep thought.
After a time he said curtly to me:
"Keep a lookout on either side, lad, for some of the snakes may grow
careless, an' you will get a shot."
Then he fell to pacing to and fro again, and after what seemed a very
long time of most painful silence, said to me as if announcing the most
commonplace fact:
"I count on lendin' a hand to those poor fellows yonder."
"Lending a hand!" I repeated in amazement. "Haven't you declared it was
impossible to leave this house without being shot down?"
"Yes, an' I reckon that comes pretty near being the truth."
"Then how may you give them any assistance?"
"I am not countin' on tryin' to do anything just now. There's like to
be plenty of time, for unless something happens to interrupt the curs,
they will not torture the prisoners until evening. When the sun goes
down I shall creep out."
"And then is the time when the Indians will keep a closer watch," I
ventured to say.
"Ay, lad, you are right, and yet we must contrive to outwit them.
Instead of openin' the door, I'll make my way through the small window
at the rear, which can be the better guarded by you and your mother
while the shutter is unfastened."
"I shall go with you," I said, speaking on impulse, and hardly realizing
the meaning of the words.
"You'll do nothing of the kind. Your duty is here, and mine there."