SAVING ELIAS
Because Master Bartlett had said that sleep was the best medicine our
wounded comrade could have, Giles March and I remained at a distance,
but yet where it was possible to keep him in view, while the others
had taken up their stations near that blockhouse which stood at the
southwestern corner of the stockade.
Now and then we conversed in whispers, careful lest we disturb the lad,
who appeared to be resting comfortably, and laid our plans for the
morrow, when we were determined, as I have already said, to carry Elias
Shendle to the cave.
It seemed probable we would be able to do this and return to the fort
within four or five hours, since the journey was to be made during the
day, and I said to myself that we were fully warranted in thus spending
the time which could have been employed in looking for others, for here
was one whose life might be saved. Even though he had not been a dear
friend, I argued that it would be criminal in us to pass him by on the
chance of finding others.
Now and then we two lads slumbered a few moments, for the soughing
of the wind through the trees, the darkness, and the myriad of night
noises, all tended to render our eyelids heavy. Sleep did not come,
however, with such effect as to render us unconscious of any unusual
sound, and when, perhaps half an hour before daybreak, the noise of
rapid footsteps coming across the enclosure was heard, I sprang to my
feet, knowing there must be some good reason for such rapid approach.
It was Daniel Hinchman who came up, but before he could speak I placed
my hand over his mouth, in token that Elias might be disturbed by the
sound of voices, and then led him a short distance from the building,
to hear the message which he brought.
“Master Bartlett has sent me to say that we have good reason for
believing a party of the enemy is coming this way from the direction of
Fort Ogden, and one of you lads is to join him at the blockhouse.”
Without thinking I might be detained many moments, and also fancying,
in my stupidity, that it was a false alarm, I ran back and repeated in
Giles March’s ear that which Daniel had said, adding on my own account:
“Do you remain with Elias, and as soon as may be I will come back to
let you know what is in the wind.”
Then I followed Daniel, and we had hardly more than joined the others
when all doubts as to the cause of the alarm were set at rest, for the
voices of Indians could be plainly heard.
“After having destroyed the settlement, what may they be coming for
now?” I whispered, not intending to ask a question; but Stephen Morley
heard the words, and replied, grimly:
“It has most like entered their minds that this stockade was left
standing, and now they have returned to complete the work of
destruction. We are like to have trouble, for even though I may be at
fault as to the reason of their coming, it is not likely the villains
will pass by the fort without trying to have a look at the inside.”
I had left my musket just inside the blockhouse, with the weapons
belonging to the other members of the party, and this I took up, making
certain it was loaded and primed, but forgetting in the excitement that
I should have hastened back to tell Giles March of what had been said.
The savages were coming straight toward the fort, talking now and then
among themselves as if suspicious that there might be in the vicinity
white people whom they could butcher, and our little company stood just
behind the main gates, where had been made loopholes for the use of the
defenders.
“Are we to open fire immediately they come in view?” I whispered to
Master Bartlett, and he replied:
“That is for you to say, Jonathan Ogden. We yet count this the company
of Minute Boys who defended Fort Jenkins, and Stephen Morley and myself
are two privates under your command.”
“Nay, nay, Master Bartlett, do not jest at such a time as this,” I said
irritably. “It is for you and Stephen Morley to say what should be
done, even though we had a full company here.”
“Then it is to my mind, lad, that when the villains are come close to
the gates we shall open fire, taking good care each bullet counts, for
it will avail us nothing to give them an opportunity to decide how
we may be attacked. In fact, we are not in position to stand a long
battle, because of the probability that there may be many others of
their kind in the vicinity.”
Then it was we understood, by the sound of the voices, that the
newcomers had halted a short distance away, and I was on the point of
clambering up to the sentry’s platform in the hope of seeing what might
have stopped them, when suddenly there rang out on the night air a
woman’s voice, shrill and full of agony.
At that cry, which came to our ears like an appeal for help which could
not be disregarded, Master Bartlett forgot entirely that he claimed to
be only a private under my command, and said sharply, as he began to
unbar the gates:
“Stand ready, lads! They have found some poor creature who had been
hiding in the ruins of her own home, perchance, and we will take a
hand in the matter whatever may be the result.”
One of the big gates had been swung open wide enough to admit of our
passing out, before the old man ceased speaking, and I was the first to
go through the opening, showing how illy fitted I was to command even
this remnant of a company of Minute Boys, since I forgot entirely our
wounded comrade and he who watched by his side.
It was Stephen Morley who halted me by placing his hand on my shoulder,
as he whispered:
“One moment, lad, until Simon Bartlett has decided who shall remain
to hold the stockade,” and then I remembered my neglect, turning on
the instant to make amends by going back, when Master Bartlett, having
thrust Miles Parker aside, said to him:
“Bar the gate after we are on the outside, and await some signal from
us before you open it again.”
Then he pressed forward upon my heels, and I could not have delayed if
I would.
Again came that cry of agony, and I could think only of the poor
creature in such sore straits; but yet had sufficient sense to
understand that we must go out under some leadership, rather than
helter-skelter like a flock of sheep.
“Lead on, Stephen Morley, and I will bring up the rear,” Master
Bartlett said, and thus were our preparations made.
[Illustration: “ONE OF WHOM A PAINTED BRUTE HELD HIGH IN HIS HAND.”]
There was no need to search for the foe; the savages were laughing and
chattering like a lot of baboons, so that even in the darkest night
might we have gone directly toward them without making any mistake, and
since Stephen Morley continued on around the stockade, keeping close
within the denser shadows of the walls, we came so near to the red
wolves that it seemed almost as if I could have thrust out my hand and
touched the nearest without leaving my tracks.
They numbered, I judged in the first hurried glance, not less than ten
or twelve, and were clustered around a woman, who was kneeling on the
ground before them begging for mercy, and three children, one of whom a
painted brute held high in his hand, as if to dash it to the ground.
I saw Stephen Morley level his musket, and knew full well what target
he aimed at, therefore did I follow his example, save that I counted to
send my bullet into the heart of the wretch who stood nearest the woman.
There was no need that we await the word of command. As if our little
party had been standing shoulder to shoulder, and could understand by
the sense of touch what was being done, our muskets were discharged in
a volley that rang out as one report.
Four of the savages fell, and it was as if they had hardly reached
the ground before we were upon the others, striking with our clubbed
muskets right and left, knowing that upon the swiftness of our
movements depended the life of this poor woman and her children, for
they would have plunged their weapons into the helpless ones before
turning to meet us had we given them time.
It was the suddenness of our first attack, and the quickness with which
we followed it up, that prevented them from making any attempt at
fighting, more particularly since they were all ignorant as to how much
of a force had fallen upon them.
In a twinkling those who were left alive turned and fled like the curs
that they were, leaving behind them five of their number, while it is
safe to promise that more than one of those who ran carried with them
bullets that had been moulded by the women of Wyoming Valley.
“Pick up the youngsters and make for the fort,” Master Bartlett said,
sharply, seizing the arm of the woman, who yet remained on her knees
as if paralyzed with fear, and I venture to say that one could not
have counted sixty from the time we left the stockade until we were
inside it once more and the gates barred, with the woman and her three
children in safety.
“Why did you beat a retreat when we were having the best of it?” I
asked of Master Bartlett, feeling aggrieved because he had turned tail
when there was a possibility, as it seemed to me, of inflicting further
injury upon the enemy.
“Because it stands us in hand to keep them in ignorance of our
numbers,” he replied. “If, peradventure, they have learned how weak
a force we are, then can we count on seeing not only those who have
retreated, but an hundred others, mayhap, in front of this stockade by
sunrise.”
This he said to me hurriedly, and literally shouldered me aside as he
spoke, that he might look in the face of the woman whom we had saved.
“This is Mrs. Stockbridge, if I’m not mistaken,” the old man said,
taking the yet terrified woman by the arm. “What were you doing here,
mistress, that you failed to join the others in their flight?”
“It is Master Bartlett!” she cried in a frenzy of joy, as she seized
the old man’s hand. “Thank God you were come in time to save my little
ones!”
“But what have you been doing here so long?” the old man asked, sharply.
“When the others fled I was left behind because of trying to save some
little things for the children, and on coming out of the house found
myself alone in the settlement.”
“And then?” Master Bartlett cried. “And then why did you not go?”
“Because I dared not!” she wailed. “It seemed as if we were entirely
surrounded by the savages, and, not being able to carry all three of
the children, I knew it was impossible they could keep pace with me in
the rapid flight.”
“But when the savages burned this settlement?” Stephen Morley asked,
and of a verity it did seem a miracle that this woman should have been
alive, amid the ruins of her house, in which hardly four of the timbers
were unconsumed.
“On finding ourselves alone, deserted, as it were, I went into the
cellar with the children, and there, in the casks which had been sunken
that we might make saltpetre, I took refuge, not knowing when the
building was fired.”
“And you lived while your home burned above your heads?” Stephen Morley
demanded, but it was a useless question since there stood the woman
before him.
“Yes, by the goodness of God. Because we had been working so lately
with the lye, and in order to get the water from the outside had
brought it in a stream across what remained of the floor, such timbers
as I could pile above us were sodden; they protected us even against
the heat of the burning house.”
“And have you been there ever since?” I asked in astonishment, saying
to myself that it was little more surprising she and her children had
lived in that narrow hiding-place so long than that the poor protection
had saved them from the fire.
“I gathered up food when we made ready for the flight, and therefore
had plenty with which to feed the babies, while one of the casks was
filled with clear water, therefore, save for being in such narrow
quarters, we suffered no harm.”
“And how was it the savages discovered you at this time?” some one
asked, and then we learned that it was through us the poor woman had
ventured out at the very moment when danger lurked close at hand.
It seemed that she had heard our voices when we came through the
settlement, and only waited to make certain we were not pursuers.
Leaving the children in the place of concealment, she had come out
a few moments before, listening at the gate of the stockade until
satisfying herself who was inside. Then returning, and taking the
children with her, started for the fort just as John Butler’s butchers
arrived.
“It was well we decided to leave the cave,” Master Bartlett said as if
speaking to himself. “Not yet twelve hours since we set out, and here
are four lives saved. What may we not do later?” Then, in a louder
tone, he added, turning to me, “Our work is cut for us, lad; it lies
here and there among the ruins of the different settlements, rather
than in any fortified place.”
While he was speaking to me Mistress Stockbridge had been kissing and
fondling her children as if after a long time of separation, and I
could well understand she believed, in her ignorance, that after all
the horrors of the past few days was she come unto deliverance, whereas
she stood, perhaps, in more danger than while among the lye-casks under
the ruins of her home.
“Is there any good reason why we should stand here chattering like a
party of old women?” Stephen Morley asked impatiently, and I, surprised
at his tone, turned upon him with the question:
“What would you have us do?”
“Anything rather than remain here. Is it in your mind that those
savages whom we sprang upon so suddenly are yet running? Even though
there was nothing else to call them back, they would strive to save the
scalps of their friends whom we have killed, as you should know from
what has been done in the past. It is time we were making a move.”
“True for you, Stephen Morley,” Master Bartlett said, heartily. “I was
near to forgetting myself, in the joy of knowing we had been allowed to
save this poor woman and her children from the knives of those fiends.”
“But where are we to go?” I asked, helplessly, thus showing how little
I knew concerning the work in which I embarked when joining the Minute
Boys.
“It matters little, so that we be not here when those whom we attacked
return, as return they will very shortly.”
Then it was that I bethought me now had come the time when no complaint
could be made against the plan which Giles March and I had formed of
carrying Elias Shendle to the cave, and I said, beginning to speak even
as Giles himself came across the enclosure to learn the cause of the
firing:
“You can’t go far, or make any very desperate fight while Mistress
Stockbridge and her children are of the party, neither am I willing
that we desert Elias Shendle while he is unable to raise a hand in his
own defence.”
“Well, lad?” Master Bartlett said, impatiently, knowing most like I had
some plan to propose.
“It is in this way, as Giles March and I have figured it: We two can
carry Elias Shendle to the cave, returning here within five hours, if
so be we travel in the light, and day is now close at hand. Why is it
not an act of prudence to take the poor lad to our refuge, and with him
these four who have just been rescued?”
“It is what should be done,” Master Bartlett said decidedly, and much
to my surprise, for I had fancied he might take stand against the
proposal. “If we are to accomplish anything more, we cannot be hampered
by such helpless ones as these,” and he pointed toward the children.
“We will all go back with you a mile, perhaps, and then, returning, so
cover the trail that the savages may not be able to follow it.”
For the first time since we had found that place of safety on the
mountainside, did I realize how simple a matter it might be for those
human bloodhounds to track us out, for we had journeyed back and forth
without giving heed to our footsteps.
It sounds strange that a lad living in such times, and accustomed to
a life of danger, himself trailing man and beast when the necessity
arose, should have forgotten entirely how easy it would be for the
enemy to come upon that refuge which we had, in our heedlessness,
believed no foe could find.
However, that wasn’t the time to consider such a matter. Our helpless
ones were there, and must remain for a certain number of days at
all events. We could only hope that they might be able to defend
themselves, should need arise. At present, it was for us to pursue the
plans we had formed and already begun.
As soon as Master Bartlett had fallen in so completely with the
proposition made by me, Giles March and I set about making a litter,
which consisted of two saplings bound together by vines, interwoven so
closely as to form a rude bed on which the sufferer could lie.
Because in this work all assisted, we were ready in less than ten
minutes from the time of the rescue to set out, and then the grayish
hue of the eastern sky was telling of the day to come. Giles March and
I stripped off our hunting-shirts, laying them across the saplings in
order to render the rude litter a trifle more comfortable to the poor
lad, and when we lifted him upon this rough couch he opened his eyes,
looking at us in a manner which told he understood what we were doing.
“It is to carry you back among the mountains, dear lad,” I said to him
as I laid both our muskets by his side. “There will be found those who
can care for you better than we, and you will be safe from the fiends
who have worked so much of misery upon us.”
“Death is very near to me, Jonathan Ogden,” he whispered, “and it seems
better you should strive to aid those who have more of life remaining
in them.”
“We shall so patch you up, Elias Shendle, that within two weeks’ time
you will be begging to go out with us, when we show to John Butler that
his hand is not so mighty as the happenings of the past two or three
days have led him to believe,” Giles March said, cheerily.
Then, taking up the handles of the litter, we set off, Mistress
Stockbridge walking by Elias’s side, where she might be able to
minister to his wants, and the children following close behind.
After them marched the remainder of the party, and as we went out
through the gates of the stockade the day was so nearly come that
it was possible to see our way through the thicket with reasonable
clearness.
Thus did we take up the line of march, silently, for the children,
young though they were, realized, after their past terrible experience,
how necessary it was they should hold their peace. We were returning to
that little refuge in the mountainside where the helpless ones might be
left, as we believed, in safety.
Once well clear of the fort Master Bartlett halted us, saying, as he
did so:
“In order that you two lads may be the fresher for the task yet before
you when we have gone as far as seems best, let Miles Parker and Daniel
Hinchman carry the litter.”
It was a heavy burden over that rough way, but yet we would not have
complained, however severe the labor. When, however, Master Bartlett
himself made this suggestion, it seemed to me a good one, since by
acting upon it we could advance just so much the more rapidly.
After this change had been made we went on hurriedly, for there was no
telling how soon those painted curs would be at our heels, and when we
had covered a mile or more in distance, again the old man called a halt.
“Now has come the time when we shall turn back, Jonathan Ogden.
Instead of making any further effort to go up the valley, we will
wait somewhere between here and the stockade for your coming, unless,
peradventure, those savages who left us so suddenly should come back in
the meanwhile with reinforcements, and we be obliged to shift quarters.
Do not delay any longer than may be necessary, but on approaching the
settlement again, take ample time to move warily, for I warn you that
the danger will be great.”
This was our leave-taking, and my heart was light when Giles March
and I continued on, bearing Elias Shendle between us, with Mistress
Stockbridge and the children following close at hand, for there was no
question in my mind but that within five hours, at the very longest, we
would again be with those whom we called comrades.
More than once before we arrived at the cave was it necessary for Giles
and me to set down the burden in order to relieve our aching arms; but
I promise you that the halts were no longer than seemed absolutely
necessary, for we had good reason to make the utmost speed.
It can well be supposed that Mistress Morley and Esther Hinchman were
surprised when, while yet a short distance from the cave, we cried out
to them that we were returning, lest they should be alarmed at hearing
footsteps, and then, as they came to know what we had already succeeded
in doing, their joy can be perhaps faintly imagined.
It seemed to me that more than once during the journey had Elias
slumbered or lapsed into unconsciousness, but when we took him into the
cave where he was greeted by Samuel Rogers and Oscar Stephenson--when
he saw what seemed to be a place of refuge from all the horrors which
had surrounded him, his face lighted up with sudden joy, and I fancied
that the belief he had escaped from his enemies was already doing much
toward his recovery.
We made up another bed of twigs and leaves, where the lad could
lie between his two wounded comrades, and, having made him thus
comfortable, were ready to depart. Mistress Stockbridge and the
children seemed wondrously contented--almost happy, if any one could
have been happy in Wyoming Valley at that time, and were settled down
as if at home.
It seemed necessary we should delay our departure sufficiently long to
tell Esther Hinchman of all that had happened since our starting out,
and when the story was come to an end she said, as if a premonition of
what was to follow overshadowed her:
“Why do you lads go back so soon? If it be that the remainder of the
company are to stay in hiding until nightfall, you had best stop here a
while longer.”
“But they will be looking for us, and, if we fail to show ourselves at
the time set, might come to see what had happened,” I said, laughingly.
Then we two, Giles March and I, went out, leaving the girl standing at
the entrance of the cave watching with wistful eyes, as if fearing lest
something terrible was about to overtake us.
With the feeling that the Minute Boys of Wyoming Valley were
accomplishing something of good, even though their numbers had been so
sadly lessened, we lads walked on without thought of taking heed as
to silence. A sense of security was upon us while we were so near the
eastern mountains, but before we had travelled no more than half a
mile Giles March, who was in the advance, stopped suddenly, stepping
backward until he was pressed close against me.
Even then there was no suspicion in my mind that he might have seen one
of the savages, and, thinking a bear or some other animal was within
easy musket-shot, I looked in the direction he was gazing.
Then it was as if my heart stood still and the blood in my veins grew
chill, for I saw amid the green leaves, hardly twenty paces away, a
half-naked savage coming toward us, stooping, with his eyes fastened
upon the ground as if he was following the trail.
There was no time then to speculate as to why the villain had come, nor
how he could have followed our tracks without meeting the remainder of
the party. The traces upon the leaves and earth would lead him directly
to the cave and, however many might be behind, it was our duty to cut
him short in the chase.
The same thought must have been in Giles’s mind, for before I could
raise my musket he fired. The Indian stopped suddenly, half-raised
himself, and then wheeled about, being lost to view amid the foliage in
an instant.
We two stood staring at each other in fear and amazement, knowing
beyond a peradventure that the discovery of our refuge, by the enemy
was close at hand, for even though this cur did not live to join his
fellows, they would soon come upon his trail and then follow ours.
Thus it was that all suddenly and without warning, our cave, wherein
the helpless ones sought safety, was become the most dangerous spot
that could be found, and I grew sick with fear and indecision, not
knowing whether it was our duty to stay and defend the place which
would likely soon be assaulted, or first speed on to tell Master
Bartlett and his company of the disaster which seemed so near at hand.