Throughout all this time, the scene of wild terror, and frenzied
excitement, continues to rage around the Mission. Its walls, while
echoing voices of lamentation, reverberate also the shouts of revenge.
It is some time ere the colonists can realise the full extent of the
catastrophe, or be sure it is at an end. The gentlemen, who dined with
Colonel Armstrong, rushing back to their own homes in fearful
anticipation, there find everything, as they left it; except that their
families and fellow settlers are asleep. For all this, the fear does
not leave their hearts. If their houses are not aflame, as they
expected to see them--if their wives and children are not butchered in
cold blood--they know not how soon this may be. The Indians--for
Indians they still believe them--would not have attacked so strong a
settlement, unless in force sufficient to destroy it. The ruin,
incomplete, may still be impending. True, the interlude of inaction is
difficult to understand; only intelligible, on the supposition that the
savages are awaiting an accession to their strength, before they assault
the _rancheria_. They may at the moment be surrounding it?
Under this apprehension, the settlers are hastily, and by loud shouts,
summoned from their beds. Responding to the rude arousal, they are soon
out of them, and abroad; the women and children frantically screaming;
the men more calm; some of them accustomed to such surprises, issuing
forth armed, and ready for action.
Soon all are similarly prepared, each with gun, pistol, and knife borne
upon his person.
After hearing the tale of horror brought from the Mission-building, they
hold hasty council as to what they should do.
Fear for their own firesides restrains them from starting off; and some
time elapse before they feel assured that the _rancheria_ will not be
attacked, and need defending.
Meanwhile, they despatch messengers to the Mission; who, approaching it
cautiously, find no change there.
Colonel Armstrong is still roaming distractedly around, searching for
his daughters, Dupre by his side, Hawkins and Tucker assisting in the
search.
The girls not found, and the frantic father settling down to the
conviction that they are gone--lost to him forever!
Oh! the cruel torture of the truth thus forced upon him! His children
carried off captive, that were enough. But to such captivity! To be
the associates of savages, their slaves, their worse than slaves--ah! a
destiny compared with which death were desirable.
So reasons the paternal heart in this supreme moment of its affliction.
Alike, distressed is he, bereaved of his all but bride. The young
Creole is well-nigh beside himself. Never has he known such bitter
thoughts; the bitterest of all--a remembrance of something said to him
by his betrothed that very day. A word slight but significant, relating
to the half-blood, Fernand; a hint of some familiarity in the man's
behaviour towards her, not absolute boldness, but presumption: for
Jessie did not tell all. Still enough to be now vividly recalled to
Dupre's memory, with all that exaggeration the circumstances are
calculated to suggest to his fancy and fears. Yes; his trusted servant
has betrayed him, and never did master more repent a trust, or suffer
greater pain by its betrayal.
The serpent he warmed has turned and stung him, with sting so venomous
as to leave little of life.
Within and around the Mission-building are other wailing voices, besides
those of its owners. Many of the domestics have like cause for
lamentation, some even more. Among the massacred, still stretched in
their gore, one stoops over a sister; another sees his child; a wife
weeps by the side of her husband, her hot tears mingling with his yet
warm blood; while brother bends down to gaze into the eyes of brother,
which, glassy and sightless, cannot reciprocate the sorrowing glance!
It is not the time to give way to wild grief. The occasion calls for
action, quick, immediate. Colonel Armstrong commands it; Dupre urges
it. Soon as their first throes of surprise and terror have subsided,
despair is replaced by anger, and their thoughts turn upon retaliation.
All is clear now. Those living at the _rancheria_ have not been
molested. The savages have carried off Dupre's silver. Despoiled of
his far more precious treasure, what recks he of that? Only as telling
that the object of the attacking party was robbery more than murder;
though they have done both. Still it is certain, that, having achieved
their end, they are gone off with no intention to renew the carnage of
which all can see such sanguinary traces. Thus reasoning, the next
thought is pursuit.
As yet the other settlers are at the _rancheria_, clinging to their own
hearths, in fear of a fresh attack, only a few having come up to the
Mission, to be shocked at what they see there.
But enough for Dupre's purpose; which receives the sanction of Colonel
Armstrong, as also that of the hunters, Hawkins and Tucker.
It is decided not to wait till all can be ready; but for a select party
to start off at once, in the capacity of scouts; these to take up the
trail of the savages, and send back their report to those coming after.
To this Colonel Armstrong not only gives consent, but deems it the most
prudent course, and likeliest to secure success. Despite his anxious
impatience, the strategy of the old soldier tells him, that careless
haste may defeat its chances.
In fine, a scouting party is dispatched, Hawkins at its head as guide,
the Creole commanding.
Armstrong himself remains behind, to organise the main body of settlers
getting ready for pursuit.