THE FORCES MEET.
It so happened that the three guns on The Rolling Stone were all
loaded, and as they sprang on board, Adam, Phil, and Phœnix each
snatched up one of them.
“Cover yourselves and be ready!” cried Adam.
And, at these words, Phil bounced into the little cabin and put his gun
out the landward window; Phœnix stepped on the little strip of deck on
the other side of the cabin, and crouching behind it, rested his gun
upon the roof, while Adam threw himself flat down on the bottom of the
boat and pointed his gun over the side.
“Cock your guns,” cried Adam, “but don’t fire till I give the word. I
hear ’em comin’.”
The moment that Mary Brown’s scream was heard, Chap sprang toward the
river, followed by the four Indians.
“Hold back!” cried The Talker. “You take care! You be shot!”
But Chap paid no attention to this warning. His only idea was to rush
upon the two marauders and whang them over the head with his club.
It was now almost dark in the woods, but on the water and the
river-beach objects could be easily seen.
The Talker thrust his gun into the hands of the unarmed Indian, and
making a dash at Chap, he seized him around the waist just as he was
about to rush out into the open.
“That no way to fight,” he cried. “You be shot.”
Encircling the boy with his strong arms, he held him back. Then,
speaking to one of the other Indians, he told him to peep out and see
how matters stood.
The Indian quickly reported that the men were in the boat, and had
their guns levelled at the shore.
“Bad rascals,” said The Talker. “Goin’ to try kill somebody and keep
boat. You hold him,” continued The Talker, giving Chap into the custody
of one of the other Indians, “and we go fix ’em.”
Taking his gun again, The Talker and two of his companions stepped to
the edge of the woods, where each immediately slipped behind a tree.
“Let me go!” cried Chap, while struggling with the Indian who was
holding him. “I’m captain of this party, and you’ve no right to keep me
back.”
To this appeal the Indian made no answer, but Held on vigorously to the
wrathful boy.
“There went three of ’em behind them trees,” said Adam. “I know they’re
Indians by the way they move, and they’ve got guns. The white fellers
are keepin’ back.”
“That’s because we’ve got their guns,” cried Phil, from the cabin.
“They’d do it anyhow,” said Adam,--“the cowards! These Indians’ll be
bad customers and hard to hit. Don’t fire if they don’t come out, and
keep yourselves as well covered as you kin.”
The Talker now shouted from behind his tree,--
“Come ashore! Give up boat! We let you off!”
The impudence of this demand exasperated the boys, and Phil, now
strengthened by excitement and his meal of cold meat and crackers, sent
back a shout of defiance. But Adam exclaimed,--
“Keep quiet! ’Tain’t no use to waste breath on ’em. Let’s see what
they’ll do next.”
Again The Talker shouted that if they didn’t get out of that boat, and
give it up, he and his men would come down and take it.
“All right!” said Adam to the boys. “As long as they stick behind them
trees, we couldn’t hit ’em, even if ’twas daylight, but if they rush
down on us we can fire at ’em as quick as we please, and the law’ll
stand by us, for we’ve got a right to fight for our property when
there’s nobody to do it for us. So let ’em come, if they want to.”
But the Indians behind the trees did not seem inclined to do anything
in a hurry.
They might have fired at the people on the boat, and, perhaps, have
hit them, for they were not perfectly protected, nor were their
defences bullet-proof; but although these Indians, in this wild
country, were, in a measure, outside the pale of the law, they knew
that to deliberately shoot human beings, who had so far offered them no
violence, would be very much like a murder.
They had not expected to meet a party so well armed, and ready to
protect themselves, for they had expected to rush in between the
marauders and their stolen boat, and, by their superiority and numbers,
to effect a speedy victory.
They spoke to each other from tree to tree, and it is possible that
they contemplated waiting until night had really set in, when, under
cover of the darkness, they could slip down and capture the boat
without so much danger of being shot.
But Chap was out of all patience with this ridiculous delay.
“What’s the good of standing there and hollerin’,” he said, “instead of
going down and doing something? The first thing you know those fellows
will push the boat off, and get away with her.”
“Don’t be ’fraid,” said the Indian who still held him. “We keep eye on
’em. No get ’way.”
But Chap’s active mind and body could not be content with talk like
this. With a sudden and powerful wrench he broke away from the Indian
who was holding him, and, brandishing his club, he rushed out upon the
beach.
He would show them what to do. If he dashed down upon the boat, the
Indians were bound to follow, and the rascals would be overpowered in a
second.
The moment he appeared upon the beach, three guns were levelled at him,
and three nervous fingers trembled upon the triggers.
Suddenly Phil, who happened to have the rifle, dropped the muzzle
of his piece, and, raising his head, looked boldly out of the cabin
window. At the same instant Phœnix’s head popped up from behind the
cabin, and Adam sprang to his feet.
Then from all three came the single word,--
“Chap!”
On hearing his name pronounced by these familiar voices, Chap stopped
suddenly and lowered his club. Then, without reflecting that they were
exposing themselves to the aim of the ruthless red men, Phil, Adam, and
Phœnix sprang from the boat, the two boys in their excitement leaving
their guns on board, and rushing toward their stupefied companion.
The Indians, seeing their ally thus set upon, were inclined to fire,
but, apart from the probability of their hitting Chap, there was
something so peculiar in his attitude, and in the actions of those who
had rushed upon him, that they forbore.
Running down to the group on the beach, they reached it in time to see
Chap dancing about, and apparently shaking hands with all three of his
friends at once, while myriads of questions, without any answers to
balance them, flew wildly about in every direction.
The Indians, amazed at this strange scene, stood silently looking on,
while Mary Brown, who had been hidden somewhere in the woods, came down
and listened with open mouth and eyes.
It was at least five minutes before Chap or his friends could get
fairly started in an explanation of what had happened. At last, through
the rattling noise of question, answer, and exclamation, the stories
were straightened out, and everybody, even the Indians, began to
understand what had really happened, and how it had come to pass.
“Well,” cried Phil, “you ought to be thankful, Chap, for your legs.”
“Legs?” said Chap.
“Yes,” answered Phil, laughing. “The moment I got a good sight of them,
I remembered that besides Chap Webster, there wasn’t another fellow of
fifteen with a thirty-year old pair of legs.”
“I saw ’twas a boy, too,” said Adam, “and he skipped down in a way that
seemed to me mighty nat’ral to somebody.”
“They are a good pair of legs,” said Chap, looking down at his long
extremities, “and they often come in handy.”
“Now then,” cried Adam, “we’ll build a fire and have our supper as soon
as we can, and we’ll do the rest of our talkin’ while we are eatin’.”
It was almost too dark now to find firewood, but everybody helped to
look for it.
One of the Indians went to a spring near by for water. Very soon a
bright fire was blazing upon the beach, a potful of coffee was bubbling
on the coals, while a pan of bacon sizzled near by.
There was enough for all, and everybody was invited to the repast, the
cups, saucers, and plates from The Rolling Stone being made to do as
much duty as possible.
Mary Brown declined to stay to supper.
“Mother’ll be a-wonderin’ what’s become of me,” she said, “and she
can’t send old Job down to see, cos she don’t want to be left by
herself. I’m mighty glad you didn’t have a fight, but I was so afeard
you was goin’ to be shot,” she said, addressing Chap, “that I jist
clapped my sun-bonnet down over my eyes, and I didn’t know nothin’ what
happened till I looked up and see you all dancin’ round and shakin’
hands. If any of you want anything to help camp, you can come up to the
house and see if you can git it.”
And then with a nod which seemed to be made to the party in general,
the girl ran home.
After half an hour of talk, our friends stowed themselves away in
the cabin of The Rolling Stone, and the Indians made themselves as
comfortable as possible on the sand at the edge of the woods.
The sand was dry, the air was mild, and these hardy red men were very
glad to have a bed so smooth and soft.
“It is awful funny,” said Chap, before he went to sleep, “to think that
I was leading a band of Indians through the woods to pounce down on you
fellows. And yet, when I come to think of it, I wasn’t leading them so
very much, either. Seems to me the people down this way don’t have the
right idea of what a captain ought to be.”
“Do you mean us?” said Phil, who shared the narrow bed.
“Well, I don’t know,” answered Chap. “Your notions do seem to be a
little loose; but I guess I’ll get you better disciplined after a
while.”
“All right,” said Phil.
And he went to sleep.
[Illustration]