THE DEED IN THE WATER
Henry's pace sank into a long walk, but he did not stop for two hours.
Then he drank at one of the innumerable brooks and lay down in the
forest. His adventure with the returning war party made him think much.
It was likely that other small bands had gone on the great adventure in
the south. The young warriors, in particular, were likely to take to the
scalp trail. It furnished them with excitement and at the same time
destroyed the intruders upon their great hunting grounds.
He was tempted to rejoin his comrades and go south at once with a
warning, but second thought told him that the chief danger lay in the
great war band under Yellow Panther and Red Eagle. He would adhere to
his original plan and seek to destroy the cannon.
He resolved to return at night, and since he had plenty of time he shot
a small deer, taking all chances, and cooked tender steaks over a fire
that he lit with his flint and steel. It refreshed him greatly, and
putting other choice portions in his knapsack he started back on a wide
curve, leaving the smoldering coals to arouse the curiosity of any one
who might see them.
It was now the second day after the great storm, and earth and the
forest had dried completely. Henry, stepping lightly on the firm earth,
and always using every stone or log or brook to hide any possible trace,
had little fear of leaving a trail that even the keenest Indian could
follow. But he picked up several trails himself. One was that of a small
party coming from the east, and he thought they might be Wyandots bound
for the great camp. Another had the imprints of two pairs of boots,
mingled with the light traces of moccasins, and he knew that they were
made by English soldiers, doubtless gunners, coming also with their
Indian comrades to join the great camp.
Nothing escaped his notice. He knew that not far to the eastward ran one
of the great rivers that emptied into the Ohio, flowing northward, and
he began to wonder why the band did not use it for the transport of the
cannon, at least part of the way. Indians were usually well provided
with canoes, and by lashing some of the stoutest together they could
make a support strong enough for the twelve pounders. It was an idea
worth considering, and he and his comrades would watch the stream. Then
it occurred to him that he might go there now, and see if any movement
in that direction had been begun by the warriors. The other four
undoubtedly would remain in their little stone fortress, until he
returned, or even if they should venture forth they knew all the ways of
the forest, and could take care of themselves.
To think of it was to act at once, and he began a great curve toward
the east, slackening speed and awaiting the night, under cover of which
he could work to far better effect and with much greater safety.
Toward sunset he came upon a trail made by moccasins and two pairs of
boots, and he surmised that it was Alloway and one of his young officers
who had passed that way with the Indians. As they were going toward the
river it confirmed him in his conjecture that they intended to use it,
at least in part, for their advance into Kentucky.
There had been no effort to hide the trail. What need had they to do so?
Even with the belief that the five were in the vicinity they were in too
large numbers to fear attack, and Henry, following in their footsteps,
read all their actions plainly.
They were not walking very fast. The shortness between one footprint and
the next proved it, and their slowness was almost a sure indication that
the party included Yellow Panther and Red Eagle, or at least one of
them. They did not go faster, because they were talking, and Alloway
would have discussed measures only with the chiefs.
At one point four pairs of footsteps turned aside a little, and stopped
in front of a large fallen log. Two of the traces were made by moccasins
and two by boots. So, the two pairs of moccasins indicated that both
chiefs were present. The four had sat on the log and talked some time.
In the crevices of the bank he found traces of thin ash. The British
officer therefore had lighted his pipe and smoked there, further proof
that it had been a conference of length.
The warriors had remained in a group on the right, thirty or forty yards
away, and several of them had lain down, the crushed grass showing faint
traces of their figures. Two small bones of the deer, recently covered
with cooked flesh, indicated that several of them had used the
opportunity to eat their supper.
Unquestionably the movement intended by the white leader and the red
chiefs was important, or they would not stop to talk about it so long.
Hence it must mean the transportation of the cannon by water. He could
not think of anything else that would divert them from the main route.
About two miles farther on another trail joined the one that he was
following. It was made wholly by moccasins, but it was easy enough for
him to discern among them two pairs, the toes of which turned outward.
These moccasins, of course, were worn by Blackstaffe and Wyatt, who,
whatever the British colonel may have thought of them, were nevertheless
of the greatest importance, as intermediaries between him and the Indian
chiefs.
A few yards beyond the junction they had stopped and talked a little,
but they had not sat down. Nevertheless they had consulted earnestly as
the footsteps were in an irregular group, showing that they had moved
about nervously as they talked. Then they walked on, but the moccasins
moved forward in a much straighter and more precise manner than the
boots, which were now veering a little from side to side. The two
British officers, not trained to it like the others, were growing weary
from the long walk through the woods. But they persevered. Although
they sagged more the trail led on, and, after a while, Henry saw a
light, which he knew to be a campfire, and which he surmised was on the
bank of the river.
The night was fairly dark and under cover of bushes he approached until
he could see. Then all his surmises were confirmed. The campfire was
large and around it sat Alloway, the younger officer, Red Eagle and
Yellow Panther, and at a little distance about twenty warriors. The two
Englishmen seemed utterly exhausted, while the others showed no signs of
weariness.
"I admit, Wyatt, that walking seven or eight miles through the primeval
wilderness is no light task," said Alloway, wiping his red, perspiring
face.
His tone was not haughty and patronizing. He felt just then, in this
particular work, that he was not the equal of the renegades and the
warriors. Henry saw a faint ironic smile upon the face of each of the
renegades, and he understood and appreciated their little triumph.
"You would do better, Colonel," said Blackstaffe suavely, "to wear
moccasins in place of those heavy boots. They carry you over the ground
much more lightly, and we have to follow the ways of the wilderness."
The irritable red of Alloway's face turned to a deeper tint, but he
controlled himself.
"Doubtless you are right, Blackstaffe," he said, "but we are here at
last."
Wyatt had been speaking in a low tone to the chiefs, and it inflamed a
choleric man like Alloway to hear anyone saying words that he could not
understand. He was not able to restrain himself wholly a second time.
"What is it, man? What is it that you're saying to the chiefs?" he
exclaimed.
"I was merely telling them," replied Wyatt, "that you and your aide,
Lieutenant Cartwright, had been made weary by the long walk through the
woods, and that we'd better let you rest a little before going down to
inspect the canoes."
A blaze of anger appeared in Alloway's eyes, but the younger officer who
had been watching his chief with some apprehension, said deferentially:
"Suppose, sir, that we do as they suggest. Campaigning in this
wilderness is not like fighting on the open fields of Europe."
They all sat down about the fire, and venison, jerked buffalo meat and
roasted grain were served to them. The two chiefs were silent, and,
holding themselves with dignity, were impressive. Presently one of them
took from under his deerskin tunic a pipe, with a long stem, and a bowl,
carved beautifully. He crowded some tobacco into it, put a live coal on
top and took two or three long puffs. Then he passed it to the other
chief who after doing the same handed it to Colonel Alloway.
The officer hesitated, not seeming to understand the meaning of the pipe
at that particular time, and Wyatt said, maliciously:
"The pipe of peace, sir!"
"Why should we smoke a pipe of peace when we're already allies?"
"A little feeling has been shown on our march through the woods to the
river. Indians, sir, are very sensitive. These two chiefs, Yellow
Panther and Red Eagle, are the heads of powerful tribes, and if their
feelings are hurt in any manner they will resent it, even to the point
of withdrawing all their warriors and returning north of the Ohio. I
suggest, sir, that you smoke the pipe at once, and return it to them."
Colonel Alloway did so, Cartwright took it readily, after them the two
renegades smoked, and thus it was passed around the circle. It came back
to Red Eagle, who knocked the coals out of the pipe and then gravely
returned it to its resting place.
Henry had watched it all with eager attention, and when the little
ceremony was finished he made another short circle through the bushes
that brought him close to the river, where he saw about twenty canoes
and two boats much larger, built stoutly and apparently able to sustain
a great weight. He knew at once that they were intended for the cannon
and that they had been brought down the Ohio and then up the tributary
stream. Both had oars and he surmised that the white gun crews would use
them, since the Indians were familiar only with the paddle. These boats,
scows he would have called them, were tied to the bank and were empty.
Some of the canoes were empty also, but in seven or eight, Indian
warriors were lying asleep.
He was quite certain that the cannon would be brought up the next day,
and be loaded on the scows, and he wished now for the presence of his
comrades. The five together might accomplish something real before the
dawn, and then he resolved that since he was alone he would attempt it
alone. He withdrew to a considerable distance, and lay down in the
bushes, very close.
It was hard to think of a plan that seemed feasible, and he concentrated
his mind upon it until his brain began to feel inflamed, as if with a
fever. But the idea came at last. It was full of danger, and it called
for almost supernatural skill, but he believed that he could do it. Then
the fever went out of his brain and the tension of his nerves relaxed.
He felt himself imbued with new strength and courage, and his soul rose
to its task.
He saw the two officers, the renegades and the chiefs come down to the
edge of the river, and talk with the warriors there. No very strict
watch was kept, because none seemed to be needed. Then blankets were
spread for them under the trees, and they went to sleep. Most of the
warriors followed their example, and not more than three or four
sentinels were left on watch. These three or four, however, would have
eyes to see in the darkness and ears to hear when a leaf fell.
But Henry did not sleep. He was never more wide-awake. He made his way
carefully through the bushes farther up the stream to a point where he
noticed the last canoe lying empty near the shore, almost hidden in the
shadows cast on the water by the overhanging boughs.
He came to a point parallel with it and not more than ten feet away,
and critically examining the river saw that the water was quite deep
there, which suited his purpose. The light craft was held merely by a
slender piece of bark rope. Then he began the most perilous part of his
task. He returned toward the sleeping officers and chiefs, and, lying
flat upon the ground in the deep grass and heavy shadows, began slowly
to worm himself forward. It was a thing that no one could have
accomplished without great natural aptitude, long training and infinite
patience. He knew that risk of detection existed, but he calculated
that, if seen, he might be up and away before any one of his enemies
could find time for a good shot.
The Englishmen in particular were the mark at which he aimed. He had
noticed that the younger one carried a large horn of powder and he was
likely to be careless about it, a belief that was verified as he drew
near. The Englishman had taken off his belt, bullet pouch and powder
horn, all of which now lay on the ground near him.
A long arm was suddenly thrust from the grass and a hand closing on the
powder horn took it away. Henry felt that it was well filled and heavy
and he glowed with triumph. The first link in his chain had been forged.
He crept back into the bushes, and stopped there twice, lying very
still. He saw the Indian sentinels moving about a little, but evidently
they suspected nothing. They were merely changing positions and quickly
relapsed into silence and stillness.
It was fully half an hour before Henry was back at his place opposite
the swinging little canoe. Then he shook the powder horn triumphantly,
put it down at the foot of a tree and covered it up with some leaves. As
he did so he noticed that many of last year's leaves were quite dry and
he remembered it.
Then he went back to forge the second link, which was not so difficult.
The fire around which the white men and the chiefs had eaten their
supper was a little distance back of the present camp, where he was
quite sure that it was still smoldering, although deserted. He found a
stick the end of which was yet a live coal, and circling a little wider
on his return he came back to the powder horn.
Henry held the live point of the stick close to the ground where it
could not cast a glow that the sentinels might see, and then waited a
minute or so before taking any further action. Two links of the chain
had been forged and he felt now that he would carry it to its full
length and success. He had never been more skillful, never more in
command of all his faculties, and they had never worked in more perfect
coordination. There had never been a more perfect type of the human
physical machine. Nature, in one of her happy moods, had lavished upon
him all her gifts and now he was using them to the utmost, turning his
ten talents into twenty.
The third link would be one of great difficulty, much harder than the
bringing of the fire, and that was the reason why he was considering so
well. He could discern the figures of three of the sentinels on land.
Two of them were brawny warriors naked to the waist, and painted
heavily. The third was quite young, younger than himself, a mere boy,
perhaps on his first war path. Henry understood the feelings of hope and
ambition that probably animated the Indian boy and he trusted that they
would not come into conflict.
The sentinels were walking about, and when the one nearest him turned
and moved away he gathered up quickly fallen brushwood which lay
kiln-dry at the river's brink. Then he hid his rifle, other weapons and
ammunition in the grass. For a brief space he must go unarmed, because
he could not be cumbered in an effort to keep them dry.
Carrying the powder horn, the dry sticks and the one lighted at the end,
he dropped silently into the water and managed with one arm to swim the
few feet that separated him from the canoe. Then he passed around it,
putting it between him and the land, and carefully lifted everything
inside. He knew that the dry wood would burn fast when he placed the
torch against it, and he put the horn full of powder very near.
Then he sank low in the water behind the canoe, and listened until he
heard the faint sputter of the fire in the dry wood. Now new
difficulties arose. He must time everything exactly, and for the sake of
his enterprise and his own life he must keep the Indian alarm from
coming too soon.
The sputtering was not yet loud enough for the warriors on the bank to
hear it, and he ventured to rise high enough for another look over the
edge of the canoe. In two minutes, he calculated, the fire would reach
the powder horn. Then he drew from his belt his hunting knife, the only
weapon that he had not discarded, and cut the withe that held the canoe.
Burying himself in the water to the nose he sent his fire ship down the
stream toward the two scows intending for it to enter just between them.
Now he needed all his skill and complete command over his will. The
sputtering of the fire increased, and he knew that it was rapidly
approaching the horn of powder. The flesh had an almost irresistible
desire to draw away at once and swim for life, but an immense resolution
held his body to its yet uncompleted task.
The canoe was moving with such a slight ripple that not an Indian
sentinel had yet heard, but when it was within ten yards of its
destination one happened to look over the river and see it moving. There
would have been nothing curious in a canoe breaking its slender thong
and floating with the current, but this one was floating against it. The
Indian uttered a surprised exclamation and instantly called the
attention of his comrades.
Henry knew that the supreme moment was at hand. The Indian warning had
come, and the sputtering told him that the fire was almost at the powder
horn. Giving his fire ship a mighty shove he sent it directly between
the scows and then he made a great dive down and away. He swam under
water as long as he could, and just as he was coming to the surface he
heard and saw the explosion.
The two scows and the canoe seemed to leap into the air in the center of
a volcano of light, and then all three came down in a rain of hissing
and steaming fragments. The crash was stunning, and the light for a
moment or two was intense. Then it sank almost as suddenly and again
came the darkness, in which Henry heard the steaming of burning wood,
the turmoil of riven waters and the shouts of warriors filled with
surprise and alarm.
It was easy in all the confusion for him to reach the bank, recover his
arms and speed into the forest. He had forged with complete success
every link in his chain of destruction. The scows intended for the
transportation of the cannon were blown to splinters, and while they
might lash enough canoes together to sustain their weight, they must
move slowly and at much risk.
Although he was dripping with water, Henry was supremely happy. When he
undertook this feat he had believed that he would succeed, but looking
back at it now it seemed almost incredible. But here he was, and the
deed was done. He laughed to himself in silent pleasure. Wyatt,
Blackstaffe and the others would undoubtedly trace it to him and his
comrades, and he hoped they would. He was willing for them to know that
the five were not only on watch but could act with terrific effect.
A half-mile away from the river and he heard a long fierce yell, uttered
by many voices in unison. He knew they had picked up at the edge of the
stream the tale that he had not sought to hide, and were hoping now for
revenge upon the one who had cost them so much. But he laughed once more
back of his teeth. In the darkness they might as well try to follow a
bird of the air. He curved away, reached one of the numerous brooks
intersecting the stream, and ran for a long time in its bed. Then he
emerged, passed into a dense canebrake and stopped, where he took off
his wet clothing and spread it out in the dark to dry. The blanket which
he had left on the bank with his arms was warm and dry and he wrapped it
around his body. Then he lay down with his weapons by his side.
The satisfied blood ran swiftly and proudly in the veins of the great
forest runner. He had done other deeds as bold, but perhaps none as
delicate as this. It had demanded a complete combination of courage and
dexterity and perfect timing. A second more or less might have ruined
everything. He could imagine the chagrin of the choleric colonel. Unless
Wyatt and Blackstaffe restrained him he might break forth into
complaints and abuse and charge the Indians with negligence, a charge
that the haughty chiefs would repudiate at once and with anger. Then a
break might follow.
Whether the break came or not he had insured a delay, and since the
cannon could not yet be put upon the river he might find a way to get at
them. He rolled on one side, made himself comfortable on the dead leaves
and then heard the wind blowing a song of triumph through the cane. He
fell asleep to the musical note, but awoke at dawn.
His clothing was dry, and, unwrapping himself from the tight folds of
the blanket, he dressed. Then, stretching his muscles a little, to
remove all stiffness or soreness he emerged from the canebrake. After
examining a circle of the forest with both eye and ear to see that no
warrior was near, he climbed a tree and looked over a sea of forest.
To the north where the great camp lay he saw spires of smoke rising, and
to the east, where a detachment guarded the boats in the river, another
column of smoke floated off into the blue dawn. So he inferred that they
were yet uncertain about their campaign and that their forces would
remain stationary for a little while. But he was sure that warriors were
ranging the forest in search of him. Red Eagle and Yellow Panther would
not let such an insult and loss pass without many attempts at revenge.
He descended and ate the last of his venison. He would have returned at
once to his comrades, but he believed that many warriors were in between
and he did not wish to draw danger either upon them or himself. He began
another of his great curves and it took him away from the refuge in the
cliff, coming back in two or three hours to the stream that bore the
little Indian fleet. His triumph of the night before increased his
boldness, and he resolved to return the following night and annoy
further the detachment by the river. It would serve his cause, and it
would be a pleasure to vex the dogmatic European colonel.
Weather was a great factor in the operation he was carrying on, and the
coming night, fortunately for his purpose, promised to be dark. Spring
is fickle in the valley of the Ohio, and toward evening clouds gathered,
although there was not a sufficient closeness of the air to indicate
rain. But the moon was feeble and by and by went away altogether. Then
the stars followed, leaving only a black sky which hid Henry well, but
which did not hide the smaller camp by the river from him.
Watchers had been spread out in a wider circle, but he had no difficulty
in approaching the fire, built on the bank of the river, around which
sat the two chiefs, the renegades and the British officers. Henry saw
that the faces of all of them expressed deep discontent, and he enjoyed
the joke, because joke it was to him. He understood the depths of their
chagrin.
"We'll have to carry the cannon on the canoes, and maybe they'll fall
into the river," said Alloway querulously. "How in thunder the blowing
up of those scows was managed I don't understand!"
"Several of the warriors saw a canoe floating down, sir, just before the
explosion," said Cartwright, "and it must have been no illusion, as a
canoe is gone."
Cartwright had missed his horn of powder after the excitement from the
explosion was over, but he supposed some Indian had used the opportunity
to steal it, and he said nothing about his loss from fear of creating a
breach.
"In my opinion, sir," said Braxton Wyatt, smoothly but with just a trace
of irony, "it was done by Ware and his comrades."
"Impossible! Impossible!" said Alloway, testily. "The careless Indians
left powder in the scows and in some manner equally careless it's been
exploded. The tale of the canoe that floated upstream of its own accord
was an invention to cover up their neglect."
"Do you wish us to translate for you and to state that opinion to the
chiefs?" asked Blackstaffe.
Alloway gave him an angry glance, but he had prudence enough to say:
"No, of course not. After all, there may have been a canoe. But whatever
it was it was most unfortunate. It delays us greatly, and it preys upon
the superstitions of the warriors."
"They are very susceptible, sir, to such things," said Wyatt. "They
dread the unknown, and this event has affected them unpleasantly. But
I'm quite sure it was done by Ware, although I don't know how."
"Ware! Ware!" exclaimed Alloway, impatiently. "Why should a force like
ours dread a single person?"
"Because, sir, he does things that are to be dreaded."
Yellow Panther, who had been sitting in silence, his arms folded across
his great bare chest, arose and raised his hand. Braxton Wyatt turned
toward him respectfully and then said to Colonel Alloway:
"The head chief of the Miamis wishes to speak, sir, and if you will
pardon me for saying so, it will be wise for us to listen."
"Very well," said Alloway. "Tell us what he says."
Thus spoke Yellow Panther, head chief of the Miamis, veteran of many
wars, through the medium of Braxton Wyatt:
"We and our brethren, the Shawnees, have come with many warriors upon a
long war path. Our friends, the white men whom the mighty King George
has sent across the seas to help us, have brought with them the great
cannon which will batter down the forts of the Long Knives in
Kaintuckee. But the signs are bad. The boats which were to carry the
cannon on the river have been blown up. An enemy stands across our path
and before we go farther we must hunt him down. If we cannot do it then
Manitou has turned his face away from us."
Wyatt translated and Alloway sourly gave adhesion. It was hard for him
to think that a single little group of borderers could hold up a great
force like theirs, armed with cannon too. But he was acute enough to see
that the menace of a rupture would become a reality if he insisted upon
having his own way.
Henry had watched them while they talked, and then he turned aside to a
point nearer the river's brink, from which he could see two pairs of
their strongest canoes lashed together in the stream, ready for the
reception of the cannon when they should come. How was he to get at
them? He knew that he could not use a fire boat again, but these rafts,
for such they were, must be destroyed in some manner.
Lying deep in the thickets he considered his problem. One of the reasons
why he excelled nearly all the scouts of the border was because he
thought so much harder and longer, and now he concentrated all his
faculties for success.
It did not take him long to mature his plan, and when he had done so he
moved down the stream, where the chance of an Indian sentinel
discovering him was much smaller. There he waited a space, while the
night darkened still more, the moon and stars being shut out entirely. A
wind arose and little crumbling waves pursued one another on the
surface of the river, which was flooded and yellow from spring rains.
He saw only one or two sentinels and they showed but dimly. Farther down
the Englishmen, the chiefs and the renegades were sitting about the low
fire, and he felt sure that the white men, at least, would sleep there
by the coals. From his covert in the bushes he saw them presently
spreading their blankets, and then they lay down with their feet to the
smoldering fire. The chiefs soon followed them and elsewhere the
warriors also rolled themselves in their blankets. They seemed to think
that he would not come back, reasoning like the white men that the
lightning would not strike in the same place twice.
So he waited long and patiently. This quality of patience was one in
which the Caucasian was usually inferior to the Indian, but in the
incessant struggle on the border it was always needed. Henry, through
the power of his will and his original training among the Northwestern
Indians, had acquired it in the highest degree. He could sit or lie an
almost incredible length of time, so still that he would seem to blend
into the foliage, and now as he lay in the bushes some of the little
animals crept near and watched him. A squirrel, not afraid of the fire
in the distance, came down the trunk of a tree, and hanging to the bark
not five feet away regarded him with small red eyes.
Henry caught a glimpse of the little gray fellow and turning his head
ever so slightly regarded him. The red eyes looked back at him half bold
and half afraid, but Henry had lived in the wild so much that the two
felt almost akin. The squirrel saw that the gigantic figure on the
ground did not move, and that the light in the eyes was friendly. He
crept a little nearer, devoured by curiosity. He had never seen a human
being before, and instinct told him that he could escape up the tree
before this great beast could rise and seize him. He edged cautiously an
inch nearer, and the blue eyes of the human being smiled into the little
red eyes of the animal.
The two gazed at each other for a half minute or so. It was a look of
the utmost friendliness, and then the squirrel went noiselessly back up
the tree. It was a good omen, thought Henry, but he still waited with
the illimitable patience which is a necessity of the wild. He saw the
fire, before which the white men and the chiefs lay sleeping, sink lower
and lower. The night remained dark. The heavy drifting clouds which
nevertheless were not ready to open for rain, moved overhead in solemn
columns. The surface of the river grew dim, but now and then there was a
light splash as a strong fish leaped up and fell back into the current.
The Indian guards knowing well what made them, paid no attention to
these sounds.
The wind increased and Henry saw all the canoes, including those lashed
together, rocking in the current. The blast made a whistling sound among
the bushes and boughs and he concluded that the time for him to act had
come. He took off all his clothing, made it, his weapons and ammunition
in a bundle which he fastened on his head, and then swam across the
river. He went some distance down the bank, deposited everything except
his heavy hunting knife securely in the bush, and then, with the knife
in his teeth, dropped silently into the river.
The lashing of the wind and the perceptible rise of the stream from
flooded tributaries farther up, made a considerable current, and Henry
floated with it. But the bank on the camp side of the river was
considerably higher than the other and first he swam across to its
shelter.
It was so dark now that not even the keen eye of an Indian could have
seen his dark head on the dark surface of the stream, and he was so
powerful in the water that he swam like a fish without noise. Once or
twice he caught the gleam of the fire on the bank, but he knew that he
was not seen.
In a few minutes he dropped in behind the lashed canoes, and with the
heavy hunting knife cut holes in their bark bottoms. He was skillful and
strong, but it took him a half-hour to finish the task, and he stopped
at intervals to see if the sentinels had noticed anything unusual.
Evidently they dreamed as little of this venture as of that of the fire
boat.
He cut a small hole in every one at first, and then enlarged them in
turn, and when he saw the water rising in the boats he swam rapidly
away, still keeping in the shelter of the near shore. Then he dived,
rose just behind a curve and walked out on the opposite bank, his figure
gleaming white for a moment before he crept into the woods where his
clothes and weapons lay. He dressed with rapidity and still lying hidden
he heard the first Indian cry.
The sentinels, hearing the gurgling of the water, had looked over and
seen the sinking canoes. Even as they looked, and as the alarm brought
others, the canoes filled with water and sank fifteen feet to the bottom
of the stream.
A few rays of moonlight forced their way through the clouds just at that
moment, and Henry saw the amazement on the faces of the warriors, and
the anger on the faces of the white men, because Alloway and the others,
awakened by the alarm, had hurried to the banks of the river.
He laughed low to himself but with deep and intense satisfaction. He was
enough a son of the wild to understand the emotions of the Indians. He
knew that the second destruction of the boats, but in a different way,
would fill them with awe. They could attach no blame to the sentinels
who watched as only Indians could watch.
Henry saw them lift the remaining canoes upon the bank for safety, and
then send out scouts and runners in search of the dangerous foe who had
visited them twice. None had yet come to his side of the river, but he
knew that they would do so in time, and feeling that the deed was
sufficient for the night, he fled away in the darkness.