I scrambled along, edging up toward the top of the bank, and when I
got there I started to run along on the level ground. I couldn’t run
very fast on account of the underbrush and because every little ways
the rain had washed out gullies that I had to go around or jump
over. I followed the shore of the river, keeping my eyes peeled all
the time for a sight of Batten and Bill. There were so many trees
between me and the water that I couldn’t see far; but I could watch
the shore-line, as I went along, to discover if they had landed.
After I got around the bend I went more carefully, for I wasn’t a
bit anxious to have them know I was spying on them. I kept behind
the clumps of sumach and suchlike shrubs that grew all along the
hillside, wherever it was possible; and when it wasn’t I went back a
few yards from the top of the slope, where I couldn’t be seen by
anybody standing at the water’s edge.
It seemed I must have caught up with the boat if they hadn’t rowed
faster than a horse can gallop, so I crept up back of a clump of
bushes and looked down. I couldn’t see a thing. Nobody was in sight,
and the woods were as still and calm-like as could be. There are
places along the shore that look as if folks had never been there,
and this was one of them. Cat-tails and reeds grew out into the
river from the bank, and hazel and sumach and elderberry bushes
filled in thick between the big trees. It wasn’t a swampy place
exactly, though it was pretty soft and squashy in the spring when
the water was high, but it _looked_ marshy.
Where the boat had gone I couldn’t figure out, for from where I was
now I could see a quarter of a mile down the river and quite a ways
up and down the shore. The only live thing anywhere around was a
red-headed woodpecker that propped himself up against the side of a
butternut tree and pecked away like he was paid to do it by the
hour.
“Huh,” says I to myself, “that’s funny.” I sat there scratching my
head awhile, and then made up my mind to slide down the back to
explore closer. It was steep there, almost dead up and down, but
there were bushes and things to hang on to, so I didn’t think
anything about it at all, but just turned around and started down
crab-fashion, feet first and with my face toward the ground.
Probably I was a quarter of the way down when I stepped on a loose
bit of earth which went slipping out from under me. I grabbed out at
a wild-rose bush, prickers and all, but missed, and went pell-mell,
head over heels, down to the bottom, tearing chunks out of my
clothes and scuffing off patches of skin.
When I landed _bump_ at the bottom I lay still a minute to find out
if I was busted any place; but there wasn’t anything wrong outside
of scratches and bruises, so I sat up and looked to see just where
I’d fetched up. I saw all right. Not more than six feet away from me
were Batten and Bill a-grinning at me like a pair of Cheshire cats.
“Good morning,” says Batten, polite-like. “You come down a little
sudden, didn’t you?”
I was so startled and mad I didn’t answer a word. I’d made a pretty
mess of things for sure, coming tumbling right down into Batten’s
arms that way. All they would have to do was just step up and grab
me. That would mean that Mark would be left all alone to guard the
cave, and it wouldn’t be any job at all for Batten and Bill to get
him. They would just have to divide and come at him from different
ways. If one man came uphill from below and another came down at the
cave from above, what chance would Mark have? Not a bit.
I couldn’t even give him warning, for it was too far to holler. I
felt pretty mean, I can tell you. I was a nice kind of a scout to
send out, wasn’t I? To go sprawling right into the enemy’s hands the
first thing!
Bill was laughing so he had to lean up against a tree, and Batten
was standing about six feet off and grinning as mean as could be. It
was evident they thought they had me safe, and I thought so, too;
but nobody ever did anything without trying first. I couldn’t be any
worse off if I tried to get away, and I might make a go of it if I
was quick. I didn’t think about it more than a second, but rolled
over and over a couple of times, leaped to my feet, and went
a-kiting upstream toward the cave.
Batten let out a surprised yell and came jumping after me, with Bill
right behind him, sort of barking at every step he took. I had
started off so quick, and it took them so all of a sudden, that I
got a lead of most twenty feet, which wasn’t enough by any manner of
means. Two hundred would have suited me better.
I couldn’t climb the hill, the river headed me off on the other
side, and so there was only one way for me to go, and that was right
along the edge of the water. It was the best way, anyhow, because it
was clearer of underbrush and shrubs. I stood a chance of beating
them in a clear space, but they could push their way through bushes
faster than I because they were stronger. I put my head down and
ran.
Back of me I heard Batten and Bill floundering and plunging. They
didn’t yell after the start—saving their breath, I guess—but just
kept after me as fast as they could come. I didn’t know whether they
were gaining or not; and I didn’t dare turn my head to see, for fear
of tripping over something. It was pretty certain I couldn’t get to
Mark, for that would mean climbing the hill, but I might tire the
men out by running on straight ahead. Anyhow, if they didn’t catch
me too soon I could get close enough to the cave to yell and warn
Mark, and that was the chief thing to think about. “He mustn’t be
taken by surprise! He mustn’t be taken by surprise!” I kept saying
to myself over and over again.
Another hundred feet, and I would be around the bend of the river,
where my voice would carry to the cave; and I made up my mind I’d
get that far if I had to blow up and bust for it. I was getting
tired, and my lungs hurt, and my heart was going as if it said,
“Choke, choke, choke,” but I let out another notch and went faster
than before. It was just a final spurt. A fellow always has that
left in him, that last spurt. I never could understand it; no matter
how fast you’re going, it seems as if you could go a little bit
faster just at the last if it is necessary.
I was around the point now, and, sitting in front of the cave, I
could see Mark Tidd, looking like a big fat statue. He was as still
as if he had been a stone.
“Mark!” I screeched. “Look out, Mark! They’re after me!”
The next thing I heard was somebody smashing and sprawling onto the
ground behind me. Either Batten or Bill had tripped—I don’t know
which. That left only one man chasing me, and, somehow, it made my
breath come freer and my legs work easier. Maybe it was what I’ve
heard folks call “second wind.” At any rate, I kept on and on, until
pretty soon the noise behind me got farther away and at last
stopped. But _I_ didn’t stop. Not a bit of it. There would be no
stopping for me until I’d got a lot more distance between me and
those men than there was now.
As soon as I thought I was safe I turned off to the left and
scrambled up the hill. You can believe I was careful now. I crawled
almost every foot of the way when I started circling back to Mark,
but I got there at last. It seemed like a long time; but most likely
it wasn’t more than fifteen or twenty minutes after Batten and Bill
quit chasing me when I peeked over the brow of the hill down onto
the cave. I lay there quiet, not making a sound, because it came
into my head I might be more useful as a surprise party than if I
went right down to reinforce Mark. So I scrambled around and filled
my pockets with pebbles, to be ready when I was needed.
Batten and Bill sat down by the edge of the river getting back their
breath. As soon as they were rested again they got onto their feet
and started up-hill like they meant business. Mark stood up and took
his sling-shot in his hand; and I tell you I was proud of him, the
way he made ready to fight all alone without a soul he knew of to
help him.
Before they came to the clearing the men separated. Batten came
straight up, but Bill forked off to the right to do what Mark called
“execute a flank movement.” He was going to come at the cave from
the side while Batten charged from the front. It was a pretty
desperate situation. Mark couldn’t shoot in two directions at once,
and while he was peppering one man the other could sneak up and grab
him from the back. I guess he figured he was licked, but that didn’t
stop him from fighting to the last second. He was gritty, and no
mistake.
“Hum,” says I to myself, “I’ll just give you a surprise party,
Mister Bill.” So I slid down in the thick of a mess of hazel bushes,
and from them behind a big boulder, always keeping where neither
Batten nor Bill could see me, until I was almost over the cave. Then
I sat back and grinned.
Bill kept wallowing up the slope, while Batten waited just below the
clearing, out of range. When Bill was in position Batten yelled, and
both of them dashed for the cave. Mark didn’t pay any attention to
Bill. He figured it out, I guess, that the fight was about over,
anyhow, and he’d devote all his time to making Batten sorry he came.
And he did, too! The way he peppered that man ’most made me laugh
out loud. But Batten kept on coming because he knew Bill was on the
way.
Well, in about two minutes Bill came out where I could get a whack
at him. I put a nice big pebble in my sling and aimed at his hat.
_Spat_ went the pebble, and off flew the hat, and Bill brought up
sudden. He couldn’t see me, and kept looking all around to find out
where the stone came from. The second he turned his head I let him
have it again hard. He yelped.
Then I spoke soft to Mark. “Go for Batten,” says I. “I’m right here,
and I’ll look after Bill.” I heard him chuckle.
“What’s the matter?” Batten yelled, savage.
“The other kid’s there somewheres shootin’ me,” says Bill.
“Keep on after him,” Batten says.
Bill started, but I stung him again, and he stopped. “Not me,” he
says, and began edging away. Batten saw it wasn’t any use, so he
turned and got out, too.
Then I slid down to the cave.
“They most got me!” says I.
“It l-l-looked that way when you was goin’ past,” says Mark. “My,
but you can run!” His little eyes were twinkling away, and his lips
were working like he wanted to laugh.
“Go ahead! Laugh!” I told him. “Where’d you be if I hadn’t showed
up?”
Sammy’s little ax was lying out in front of the cave, and there was
a pile of shavings by the door.
“What you been doing?” I asked him.
“Oh, just cutting out these things,” says he, and pointed to three
or four pieces of sapling trunk about twice as long and thick as
towel-rollers, over on the sand.
“Cuttin’ stove-wood?”
“Nope. Just thought they might come in handy,” says he.
I didn’t ask any more about them, because I saw right off he had
some kind of a scheme; and when Mark has a scheme the only thing to
do is wait till he gets ready to tell you about it. You could ask
him questions all day, and never get a hint of what he was up to.
I went into the cave and looked around, casual-like. There was the
engine. I couldn’t see it, really, because it was all covered up by
the sheets; but I could tell it was there, and I felt pretty proud
to think we’d been able to get it back. The thing now was to keep
it, and so far we’d done average well.
I came out with a pail in my hand. “I’m thirsty,” says I. “I wonder
if there ain’t some way to get a drink?”
“Wish there was,” says Mark, “but I don’t see how.”
“Maybe I could get up over the hill and around to the spring.”
“Better not try; you had enough bad luck last time you went away.”
Well, that made me kind of mad, so I started up the bank.
“Wait!” Mark called. “Lemme go! I’m all cramped up sittin’ here.”
I came back and gave him the pail, but just then we saw Batten and
Bill moving around among the trees, so we gave up the idea of
getting water and went on watch again. Mark stayed on the shelf in
front of the cave, and I went back up above again where I hid when I
took Bill by surprise.
I settled down, with my back against a stone as big as a
bushel-basket, and made myself as comfortable as I could. The stone
was right over the cave entrance, just sort of stuck into the dirt
which held it where it was. It interested me, and I got up to
examine it close—it would be the easiest thing in the world to pry
it loose and send it bumping down the hill. I was going to do it
just for fun; then an idea hit me. I would save up that stone right
where it was. It looked to me like it could be made to come in
pretty handy.
It wasn’t any good mentioning it to Mark, but I went down and
borrowed Sammy’s little ax, which I used to cut down a tree as big
around as my wrist. I trimmed all the limbs off it and laid it down
alongside of the stone. Then I sat down and took it easy.
The sun was shining bright and warm; the sand was soft and
comfortable to lie on; and a fine breeze was blowing that made you
want to close your eyes and doze. It must have been close to eleven
o’clock now, which meant we’d been up a long time. We’d been
considerably busy since we got up, too, and I was tired and sore all
over; so I says to myself I’d shut my eyes just a minute, but
wouldn’t go to sleep. That was all right to say, but—well, the next
thing I remember was Mark hollering at me loud as he could yell.
I sat up quick, just in time to see Batten dodge out from behind
some bushes not more than thirty feet from the cave and come clawing
toward Mark. I didn’t see Bill anywhere just then, but I had sense
enough to turn around and look up the hill. There was Bill plunging
down toward me.
For a minute it looked as though the jig was up, as Uncle Ike Bond
says, but then I thought of that big stone and the lever I’d made to
pry it with. I jumped for it, and dug it into the dirt. “Mark,” I
yelled, “duck into the cave! Quick!”
I heard him scramble, and knew he was doing what I said. He wasn’t
the kind to stop and ask questions in an emergency. When I yelled he
knew I had a good reason, so he just did what I said.
Batten was right in line with the cave now where the stone would
come smashing down on him, and the place was so steep he couldn’t
get out of the way quick enough to dodge. I had him right where I
wanted him, so I stood up and yelled.
He saw me, with the lever back of the stone, and let out a
frightened squeak. His face got as white as a goose’s back, and he
hung there to a shrub, too scared to move.
Bill was coming down at me, but he was too far away to do any good.
I turned around to him and called: “Mister Bill, you stop right
where you are. If you come another step I’ll heave this boulder down
onto Batten and squash him. Don’t come another step.”
Bill stopped and looked, and when he saw just how things were he
turned kind of green.
“Go on back!” I says. “Git a move on!”
He didn’t say a word, but just wheeled around and did as I told him.
“Now,” I says to Batten, “you git, too. I won’t heave it if you
mosey along.”
He didn’t stop to argue, but rolled over and half slid, half fell
down the hill. I never would have pushed over that stone. I couldn’t
have done it; but, then, Batten and Bill didn’t know.
So far the siege had been going our way, but nobody had come to
relieve us, and we didn’t know when they would. I’d have given my
new jack-knife to have heard Uncle Ike Bond hollering back in the
road.