IN WHICH PHIL ENGAGES IN THE PURSUIT OF THE INDIANS.
The shot which I fired was instantly followed by a fierce and savage
yell. Until this moment the invaders had been creeping like cats up to
the house, and Mr. Gracewood and Ella had no suspicion of their
presence. In coming up the river I had crossed to the opposite side by
a diagonal course, partly to shorten the distance, and partly to avoid
a strong current, which swept in close to the shore above the mouth of
Fish Creek. The Indians must have been making the passage at the same
time; but the island was between them and me, so that I could not see
them.
They belonged to the same band that had attacked us at the Castle. The
fact that they had their dugouts with them assured me they had come
down Crooked River, the next stream above the Fish, on our side of the
Missouri. I concluded that they intended to renew the attack upon the
Castle, and had come in their boats so that they could approach on the
water side of the farm. They knew Mr. Gracewood very well, and meant to
plunder him first, for his share in the occurrences of the last week.
I could form no idea of the number of Indians on the island. I judged
that there were but few, for I could see only two dugouts on the bank
of the river. The savage at whom I had fired was in the act of stealing
in at the window. He had but just raised his head, and was the only one
I could see. His companions were near him, however, as I soon learned
from the yell they uttered.
Mr. Gracewood's house was large enough to contain two rooms below, and
two sleeping apartments in the attic. The front room, on the south side
of the building, was nearly half filled by a Chickering's grand
piano--a magnificent instrument, which was the joy and solace of the
recluse in his self-imposed exile. I had often sat for hours, while he
played upon it, listening to the wonderful melody he produced. He was
an enthusiast in music, and when he played he seemed to be inspired.
Almost invariably his pipe was in his mouth when seated at the
instrument, and I supposed his two joys afforded him a double rapture.
I used to think, if it had been my case, I could have dispensed with
the pipe, for it seemed like adding gall to honey.
The grand piano was a powerful instrument, and I had heard its tones
before I landed, and I listened to them with pleasure until my
attention was attracted by the sight of the dugouts. The front door was
open, and Mr. Gracewood glanced at me as I appeared at the door, but he
did not suspend his rapturous occupation. Behind him stood Ella,
enjoying the music; and both were totally unconscious of the deadly
peril that menaced them. At the same instant I discovered the head of
the Indian. He had evidently surveyed the interior of the room before,
and he did not see me. I fired, and he dropped. His companions yelled,
and Ella uttered a scream of terror. She was beside herself with fear,
and apparently thinking the house was full of Indians, she rushed out
at the open door as I entered. Mr. Gracewood seized his rifle, and a
revolver which hung on the wall.
I loaded my piece without delay, and followed the recluse out of the
house. I heard him fire before I overtook him. The plan of the savages
failed as soon as they were discovered, for they were too cowardly to
stand up before the rifles of the white man. As I hastened after Mr.
Gracewood, I glanced at the outside of the window through which I had
fired at the Indian. I supposed I had killed him, but his body was not
there. A terrible scream from Ella, followed by a cry of anguish from
her father, startled me at this moment, and I ran with all speed in the
direction from which the sounds came. Passing beyond the house, I
discovered four Indians in full retreat. Two of them were dragging the
shrieking Ella over the ground towards the point on the river where the
dugout lay. My blood ran cold with horror as I realized that they had
captured the fair girl.
The poor child, in her terror, had run away from the house to escape
the savages, who, she supposed, were in it, but only to encounter them
where we could not prevent her capture. The agony of her father was
fearful. He groaned in the heaviness of his soul. We could not fire
upon the Indians without danger of hitting Ella, whom her captors
cunningly used to protect their own bodies from our bullets.
Mr. Gracewood ran, but his limbs seemed to be partially paralyzed by
the agony of his soul. It was but a short distance to the river, and
before we could overtake the Indians they had dragged their prisoner
into one of the dugouts, and pushed off from the shore. I passed the
poor father, but reached the bank of the river too late to be of any
service to Ella. There were two Indians in each boat. They had gone but
a few rods before a bullet whistled near my head, and I retreated to
the shelter of a tree until Mr. Gracewood joined me.
[Illustration: ELLA CARRIED OFF CAPTIVE. Page 119.]
"Heaven be merciful to me and to her!" groaned he, pressing both hands
upon his throbbing head. "What shall we do, Phil Farringford? Tell me,
for I am beside myself."
"Let us take your barge and follow them."
At that moment the shrill whistle of a steamer echoed over the island.
The sound came from up the river, and I was satisfied that it was the
boat in which Ella had been a passenger, returning for her.
"It will be a sad moment to her mother when she hears what has become
of Ella," groaned Mr. Gracewood.
"Let us get into your boat as quick as possible, and meet the steamer
as she comes down," said I.
We ran to the landing-place at the lower end of the island, and
embarked in the barge. Mr. Gracewood rowed with all his might up the
stream.
"Do you see the dugouts, Phil Farringford?" he asked, after he had
pulled to the upper end of the island.
"I can just see them. They are making for Crooked River."
"Do you see the steamer?"
"She is not in sight yet."
The mouth of Crooked River was half a mile above Paradise Island. Its
head waters were in the Indian country, but the most of its course was
through a more level region than that through which the two branches of
the Fish flowed, though the mouths of the two were not more than a
couple of miles apart. Crooked River was, therefore, practicable for
boats, while there were frequent rapids in Fish Creek and its
tributaries.
"There's the steamer," said I, after we had gone a short distance
farther.
"And where are the dugouts?"
"They have gone into Crooked River."
"Can the people in the steamer see them?" asked the anxious father.
"No," I replied, sadly.
Mr. Gracewood continued to pull with all his might, and in silence,
till we came within hail of the steamer.
"Hold on!" I shouted, making violent gestures with my arms.
The captain immediately recognized me, and the wheels of the steamer
stopped. Mr. Gracewood pulled the barge up to the steamer, and we went
on board.
"Where is the young lady we left at your wood-yard?" demanded the
captain, very much excited, as I stepped on deck.
"She was captured by the Indians less than an hour ago," I replied,
breathless with emotion. "They have taken her up into Crooked River. Do
put your boat about and chase them."
"Captured by the Indians!" exclaimed the captain, aghast at the
intelligence.
"Will you put about, and follow them, captain?" interposed Mr.
Gracewood.
"He is Ella's father," I added.
"I am," said he.
The captain directed the pilot to start the steamer, and head her up
the river, as we dragged the barge on deck.
"But we can't go up these small streams," he added.
"The Indians cannot have gone far, and the water is deep for several
miles," replied Mr. Gracewood.
"I will do the best I can. We have a detachment of troops which I am to
land at your yard, Phil," continued the captain.
"I'm glad to hear that. The Indians will give us no peace until they
have been punished for the mischief they have done."
"Did you say this gentleman was Ella's father?" asked the captain,
pointing to Mr. Gracewood, who had gone to the bow of the boat, and was
on the lookout for the Indians.
I told him all that had transpired since we met the evening before,
including the capture of Ella.
"If he is Ella's father, his wife is on board," said the captain. "I
suppose I must tell her what has happened to her daughter; but I don't
like to do it."
As he left me to perform this unpleasant duty, I saw two ladies and
three gentlemen, two of them officers, coming down the steps from the
boiler deck. I inferred that one of these ladies was the mother of
Ella. She had evidently received an intimation that something had
occurred to her daughter, for she was very much disturbed.
"What has happened, Captain Davis? Where is Ella?" she demanded, in
broken tones.
"I am sorry to say that the news is not as pleasant as I could wish,"
replied the captain.
"Where is she?" cried Mrs. Gracewood.
"Her father is here, and----"
"Her father!" exclaimed the anxious mother.
Mr. Gracewood, whose attention was attracted by the sound of her voice,
came up to the group, and was instantly recognized by his wife.
"O, Henry!" gasped she. "Forgive me!"
"Nay, I ask to be forgiven," he replied, choking with emotion.
Without any explanation or terms whatever, the reconciliation seemed to
be perfect.
"This must be a sad meeting, Emily, for I fear that Ella is lost to
us."
"Where is she?" demanded Mrs. Gracewood.
"In the hands of the Indians," replied the suffering father.
"O, mercy! mercy!" groaned the poor mother. "They will kill her!"
"Let us hope not," replied Mr. Gracewood, struggling to repress his
emotions.
But this intelligence was too heavy for the strength of the poor lady,
and she was borne fainting up the stairs to the saloon. Mr. Gracewood
assisted in this duty, and I was left to give the military officers the
information they needed. The steamer had already entered Crooked River,
and a leadman was calling out the depth of water.
"There they are!" I cried, when the boat turned a sharp bend in the
river, as I discovered the two dugouts paddling up the stream.
"We will make short work of them," replied Lieutenant Pope, who was in
command of the detachment of soldiers sent down for our relief.
The Indians saw the steamer, and immediately made for the shore, where
they landed.