"'Spose I fire," he said, "and the enemy don't come on; nobody has seen
them, and nice and stupid I should look."
"But Pomp says he's sure."
"I'm not," said the man, gruffly.
"Be ready then, and fire the moment they begin to make a rush," I said,
excitedly. Then, turning to the boy, I whispered, "Now then; tell me
once more, can you see the Indians?"
"Yes, dah," he said, quietly.
"You are sure?"
"Yes, suah. Dey come now. Let Pomp shoot."
"No, no; come with me," I said, catching hold of his arm. "Let's run to
my father."
The boy was so accustomed to obey me, that he left the place directly,
and hurried with me across the enclosure in and out among the camping
groups, to where our few poor belongings lay, and I at once awakened my
father.
"Pomp has seen the Indians coming on," I said.
He started up, and so dull and heavy had been his sleep that he did not
understand me for the time.
"The Indians, father," I said.
He sprang up on the instant then, and felt for his sword.
"You say the boy saw them?"
"Yes, coming on. We were with one of the sentries."
"But he has not fired. I should have heard."
"No, father, he would not believe Pomp could see them."
"Pomp could see um--big lots," said the boy.
"That is enough," said my father. "Tell the bugler--no; we will not
show them that we know," he said. "Come with me."
We followed him to where the General was lying on a blanket or two in
the midst of his possessions, and he was on his feet in an instant
giving his orders, which were conveyed here and there to the various
officers, from whence they spread to the men so rapidly and silently
that in a few minutes, almost without a sound, a hundred well-armed
defenders of the fort were on their way to the fence in twenty little
squads, each of which reinforced the sentries, and stood waiting for the
attack.
So silent and unchanged was everything when I played the part of guide,
and led my father and the General to where we had been watching, that my
heart sank, and I felt guilty of raising a false alarm. Then I half
shrank away as I heard the General question the sentry, and he replied
that he had neither seen nor heard anything. Just then my father turned
to me.
"Where's the boy?"
"Here, Pomp," I whispered; but I looked round in vain, and after a few
minutes' search I was fain to confess that he had gone.
"It is some trick," whispered my father, with suppressed anger. "I
cannot hear a sound."
"No; I feel sure he was in earnest. He certainly believed he saw the
Indians."
My father turned to the General, and they conversed together in a low
voice for some minutes, during which I stood there feeling as if I were
wrong, and forgetting that even if I were it was only a case of being
over anxious in our cause.
"No, no," I heard the General say quietly; "don't blame the boys. Of
course it is vexatious, and seems like harassing the men for nothing;
but it has its good side, for it proves how quickly we can man our
defences. Well, what do you say--shall we go back to our beds? There
seems to be no danger. Ah, here is Preston. Well, have you been all
round?"
"Right round, sir, and there does not seem to be anything moving. A
false alarm, I think."
"Yes," said the General, "a false alarm, and--What is it?"
My father had caught his arm in a strong grip, and pointed over the
palisade.
"I don't know what it is," he whispered; "but something is moving out
yonder, a hundred yards away."
Amidst a dead silence every eye was fixed in the direction pointed to by
my father; but no one else could make anything out, and the General
said--
"No; I cannot see it."
"Are you sure?" whispered my father. "George, are you there?"