WE LEAVE THE INDIAN CAMP--MAYSOTTA'S KIND OFFER--OUR RIDE TO ROARING
WATER--INDIANS IN THE DISTANCE--IN SIGHT OF THE FARM--A STRANGER
INDIAN--OUR RECEPTION BY UNCLE JEFF--THE INDIAN'S STORY--HE GETS FOOD
AND SHELTER--MATTERS NOW LOOK SERIOUS--A COUNCIL OF WAR--MY DOUBTS OF
THE INDIAN--CLARICE AND RACHEL ACCOMPANY THE LIEUTENANT TO THE INDIAN
CAMP--WE BARRICADE THE HOUSE--DISAPPEARANCE OF THE INDIAN--BARTLE GOES
OUT TO RECONNOITRE--APPROACH OF THE ENEMY--A DETERMINED ATTACK--SEVERE
LOSSES--THE OUT-BUILDINGS SET ON FIRE--OUR AMMUNITION RUNS SHORT--THE
ROOF TAKES FIRE--HOW ARE WE TO ESCAPE?--UNCLE JEFF'S RUSE, AND HOW IT
SUCCEEDED.
The Indian girl readily undertook the charge of our baggage-mules and
property, as well as of the deserters' wheel-barrow, which she promised
should be sent back to the farm. Having secured the muskets of the two
men to our own saddles, we made them mount and ride on before us, so
that they might have no opportunity of running away. Gillooly pulled as
long a face as his jovial countenance was capable of, while that of
Klitz elongated even more than was its wont.
"We shall probably have some sharp fighting, my lads; and if you behave
well I intend to overlook your conduct; but if not, you must take the
consequences," said the lieutenant.
"Sure, if we get sight of an inemy, I will do nothing to disgrace the
name of Gillooly," answered Barney.
Klitz muttered something in German, but what it was I could not make
out. They were neither of them likely to fight for honour and glory; at
the same time, I had little doubt but they would blaze away at an enemy,
when they knew that by failing to do so they would lose their scalps.
"Tell the `Fair Lily' that I have heard of the danger by which she is
threatened, and that if she will come here Maysotta will take care of
her, and cherish her as a sister," said the Indian girl, as I was about
to vault into my saddle.
I thanked her, and told her that I was sure Clarice would be glad to
meet with her. I was much struck by the artless manners of the young
Indian girl, who, although endowed with the features of her race,
possessed a beauty rarely seen among them.
"Move on, lads; we must be at Roaring Water before nightfall," cried the
lieutenant. "Keep together, and do not pull rein until I give the
order. Remember that I will stand no nonsense; and the first of you who
plays any trick, I will shoot him through the head."
"Arrah! sure, we will be afther obeying your honour, thin," cried
Barney, as he and Klitz galloped on ahead--the lieutenant giving them
the order to turn to the right or to the left as was necessary.
We kept on at a good pace. The Indian mustangs, although somewhat
small, were strong and wiry; and our horses, having had a good feed,
were perfectly fresh. The distance, therefore, which on the previous
days--having our mules to drag after us--was slowly traversed, was now
quickly got over. But we had to call a halt at noon, by the side of a
stream, in order to water our animals and let them feed; while we
ourselves took some of the provender which we had brought in our
wallets.
Klitz and Barney sat down opposite to us, by the orders of the
lieutenant, and ate their meal in silence. They bore their
disappointment very well. Perhaps, after their three or four days'
experience, they may have begun to suspect that they would not reach
their El Dorado without some considerable difficulty, should they ever
get there at all; and they possibly consoled themselves with the idea
that, since they had been retaken, they were getting off very cheaply.
Our meal over, we moved on as before. I kept a sharp look-out by the
way, and twice I caught sight of figures which I knew must be Indians,
moving in the distance, but whether friends or foes it was impossible to
say. Perhaps they belonged to Winnemak's tribe; or, should Maysotta's
account be correct, they might be Arrapahas. They did not approach us,
however, and we were allowed to proceed unmolested.
Although we were moving along the line used by emigrant trains, we did
not meet a single one; but it was possible that any coming from the
eastward might have been attacked by the Arrapahas, or, hearing that an
enemy was in the neighbourhood, might have halted for the purpose of
defending themselves. When Indians can manage to attack a train on the
move, they, in most instances, prove successful; whereas even a small
party of white men, when encamped and under the protection of their
waggons, can generally keep a large band of warriors at bay.
The fact of our not meeting with any emigrant trains made Maysotta's
report more probable. Of course I felt somewhat anxious about
ourselves, for, even although we had a couple of rifles and two muskets,
besides our pistols, we might find it a hard matter to drive off any
large number of mounted assailants; but I felt far more anxious about
the inmates of the farm.
We kept the two men moving ahead of us at such a rate that Barney more
than once cried out, "Sure, lieutenant, our bastes will have no wind
left in thim at all, at all, if we don't pull up!"
"Go on, go on," cried the lieutenant; "do not mind your beasts, as long
as they can keep their legs."
"Thin it's meself I'd be plading for," cried Barney, turning round.
"Do not mind yourself either," answered the lieutenant. "The lives of
our friends are at stake, and if we are to help them we must get to the
farm without delay."
Whack, whack, whack went Barney's stick. The German also urged forward
his mustang in the same manner--his feet, from the length of his legs,
nearly touching the ground. Indeed, when passing through long grass,
his feet were so completely hidden, that, as he kept moving his legs
about all the time, it appeared as if he were running along with his
horse under him.
At length the mountains which rose above Roaring Water appeared in
sight. As we neared them I looked out eagerly from the summit of a
ridge we had reached, to ascertain if any Indians were in the
neighbourhood; but as none were to be seen, I hoped that we might reach
the farm before any attack had been commenced.
As we passed the confines of the property I saw none of our people
about; but, as the evening was drawing on, I thought it probable that
they had gone home from their work. Still, I felt somewhat anxious; my
anxiety being also shared by the lieutenant, who was making his tired
beast breast the hill faster than he, as a humane man, would otherwise
have done.
As we got close to the house, an Indian started up from behind a copse
which grew on the side of the hill. He had neither war-paint nor
ornaments on, and looked weary and travel-stained. He was a young,
active man; but, at the first glance, I did not like his countenance. A
person unaccustomed to Indians cannot easily distinguish one from
another, although in reality they vary in appearance as much as white
men do; as does also the expression of their countenances.
"Are you going to the farm?" he asked, addressing me. He knew at once
by my dress that I was a settler.
"Yes," I replied. "Why do you put the question?"
"I wish to go there too," he answered. "I want to tell the Palefaces
living there that they are likely to be attacked by enemies who have
sworn to take their scalps, and that unless they run away they will all
lose their lives."
"You do not bring us news," I replied; "but you can accompany us to the
farm and speak to the white chief, telling him what you know--although I
do not think it likely that he will follow your advice."
"Come on, come on, Ralph," cried the lieutenant; "do not lose time by
talking to that fellow."
I quickly overtook my companion; while the Indian followed,
notwithstanding his tired appearance, at a speed which soon brought him
up with us.
As we rode up to the house, Uncle Jeff appeared at the door.
"What has brought you back?" he exclaimed, with a look of surprise.
"Glad to see you, at all events; for we have had our friend Winnemak
here with news sufficient to make our hair stand on end, if it were
addicted to anything of that sort. He declares that the Arrapahas are
coming on in overwhelming force, and that, unless we are well prepared
for them, we shall one and all of us lose our scalps. He has gone off
again, though, promising to make a diversion in our favour, as he has
been unable to get his people to come and assist in defending the farm,
which would have been more to the purpose. However, as you have
returned,--and brought your two deserters, I see,--we shall be able to
beat the varmints off. No fear of it, though they may be as thick as a
swarm of bees."
A few words explained how we had fallen in with the runaways.
The Indian who accompanied us then stepped forward. He told Uncle Jeff
that he was a Pawnee, that his name was Piomingo, and that, having a
warm affection for the Palefaces, he had come to warn us of the danger
in which we were placed, and to advise us forthwith to desert the farm
and take to the mountains, for that we had not a chance of defending it
against the numerous bands of Arrapahas who were advancing to attack us.
They had, he said, put to death all the white men, as well as women and
children, they had met with in their progress, as their manner was to
spare no one; and they would certainly treat us in the same way.
"We have already heard something of this," said Uncle Jeff, looking as
unconcerned as he could; "but how did you happen to know about it?" he
asked.
"I was taken prisoner by the Arrapahas while on my way to visit a young
squaw, who is to become my wife. But on the night before I was to be
tortured and put to death I managed to make my escape, and came on here
at once to tell the Palefaces of their danger, of which I had heard when
in the camp of the enemy."
I suspected that Uncle Jeff did not altogether believe the account given
by the Indian. At any rate, he received it with perfect composure.
"We thank you, friend Piomingo, for your good intentions. You are now
at liberty to pursue your journey on your intended visit to the young
squaw of whom you speak," he answered.
"I would follow the advice of the Paleface chief, but I am weary and
hungry, and require sleep and rest. He would not turn me away like a
dog from his door!"
"No, I will not do that," said Uncle Jeff. "You shall have as much food
as you require, and you can lie down and sleep until you are rested;
after that, you shall be welcome to depart."
The Indian expressed his gratitude in a much longer speech than the
occasion required; but when Rachel brought some food he ate it
voraciously, as if he really were as hungry as he had asserted.
Clarice blushed and smiled, when the lieutenant told her how anxious he
had been made by the report he had received from Maysotta, and how glad
he was for the opportunity of returning.
The sergeant was by this time much better, and able to move about. Pat,
too, had behaved very well. The four farm hands had been brought into
the house, and Sergeant Custis and Pat had been regularly drilling them,
and teaching them how to handle their muskets properly.
I found that Uncle Jeff considered matters far more serious than he had
at first been willing to do. Winnemak had been urging him to allow
Clarice, attended by Rachel, to quit the farm--promising to conduct them
to his daughter, and to afford them protection. Should the farm be
attacked, it was quite possible that the defenders might have, as a last
resource, to cut their way out; and, encumbered with the two women, the
risk they would have to run would be far greater than if they had only
themselves to think of.
"I cannot help acknowledging that our Indian friend's advice is sound,"
observed Uncle Jeff. "If we knew that Clarice and Rachel were safe, we
should fight with far more freedom than we could do with them in the
house. And if matters came to the worst, we should, as he says, be able
to escape with far less difficulty than if we had them to look after."
"I am very unwilling to desert you," said the lieutenant; "but, under
the circumstances, if you will confide your niece to my care, with her
attendant, I will undertake to escort them to the Indian camp, where the
chief's daughter is ready to receive her. Indeed, the Indian girl
proposed this herself, and seemed to be aware of what her father had
advised you to do."
While we were talking, I observed that the stranger was listening, and
apparently doing his best to take in what we said. Though he was a
handsome young fellow, yet, as I before remarked, I did not like the
expression of his countenance; it now struck me that it had a cunning,
sinister look. Whenever he saw my eyes directed towards him, he turned
away, and appeared to be thinking only of the food he was eating.
I have elsewhere alluded to my talent as an artist. While Winnemak was
with us, I had made a tolerably fair portrait of him; indeed, it was
considered a good likeness, and was hung up against the wall. As
Piomingo was passing it, I saw him start in a way an Indian seldom does;
and he then stood gazing earnestly at it for a minute or more.
"Who is that man?" he asked, pointing to the portrait.