"Ah! whence yon glare,
That fires the arch of heaven?--that dark-red smoke,
Blotting the silver moon?"
Shelley.
An hour had passed, and yet there were no indications of an attack. The
inmates of the cottage had taken their places as on the night of the
previous conflict; and, with all their senses upon the alert, endeavored
to detect the approach of an enemy, from whom so much was to be feared.
Ruth and Singing-Bird had both taken positions by the loop-holes, and
without strenuous objection; for, on a night that threatened to be so
dangerous, they, even, might render important resistance. Another hour
passed. Was it possible that the Indians, satisfied with the lives of
their two unfortunate prisoners, had abandoned the idea of again
attacking the cottage? This query presented itself to the mind of more
than one of the little garrison; and it was with a pleasant thrill of
hope, that the idea first occurred to the mind of Ruth. Even Ichabod,
with all his experience in Indian character, suggested to Eagle's-Wing
the possibility that such a hope might be well-founded.
"No," was the answer; "don't know Injins if you think so. They come,
sartin, by'mby. Panther cunning Injin. He mean to get cottage to-night,
any way--that what it means."
"Do you suppose, Eagle's-Wing, that they're anywhere round here now?"
asked Ichabod, more to hear what his friend would answer, than for any
other purpose.
"Guess so; guess that ravine _full_ of Injins. Hear 'em, by'mby. They
won't yell nor shoot. Know that don't do any good. Can't shoot through
logs; that they know."
"I reckon you're about right, Eagle's-Wing. They want to put us off our
guard; and by-and-by some miscreant will try to set us afire. But if we
watch, we can prevent that; they can't _carry_ fire without our seeing
it."
"Don't know that. Little spark make great fire, sometime. Hide little
spark pretty well, if they try."
The night had now become dark; the sky was partly obscured by
clouds--sufficiently so to render it extremely difficult to discern
objects no larger than the size of a man, at even a rod's distance. But
while the darkness would allow the Indians to approach nearer the
building with less chance of detection, it would also render it more
difficult for them to conceal any attempt to set the cottage on fire.
Two, three, or even four hours, might elapse ere any demonstration on
the part of the Senecas would be made. This uncertainty, united with the
darkness and silence which reigned both within and without, tasked the
spirits of the defenders more than any open attack would have done. No
anxiety is more overpowering than that of awaiting an event the coming
of which is to be dreaded, and yet which will certainly arrive. In the
whole range of catastrophes to which mankind are subject, there is,
perhaps, but one important exception to this remark, and that is the
great catastrophe to which each individual of the human family is
subject, which is certain to arrive, and which is universally dreaded.
It may arrive soon or late--no one knows when, or how it will come; yet
the anxiety incident to that event, is easily overcome; and one by one,
a generation passes away, each one knowing well his doom, yet neglecting
the least preparation.
This anxiety at length became so irksome, that a desultory conversation
sprung up between the different individuals of the party--yet, without
any cessation of watchfulness, Ichabod, who had remained silent since
the last reply of Eagle's-Wing, now again addressed his companion.
"Why wouldn't it be a good idea for one of us to reconnoitre a little?
We could find out for sartin whether any of the reptiles are ra'ally
round here or not?"
Eagle's-Wing did not answer. His eyes seemed to be strained almost from
their sockets in endeavoring to pierce the darkness. Suddenly the
silence was broken by the discharge of his rifle; and at the unexpected
sound amidst the unnatural quiet which reigned around them, every member
of the little garrison started simultaneously with the report. A scream
was heard from the outside, towards the ravine, and Ichabod saw an
Indian fall struggling upon the ground, while a small brand of fire fell
by his side upon the dry leaves along the edge of the ravine.
"Well done, Eagle's-Wing!" exclaimed Ichabod. "It takes an Injin to see
an Injin in the dark; but that rascal won't set fire to the cottage, any
way."
"Plenty more, down yonder, where he come from. They keep still, though;
won't be foolish, this time."
It was true, that although the Seneca had fallen, and the brand of fire
which he had carried concealed, lay by his side; not a sound indicated
the presence of another enemy. They had failed in this attempt; but
another might be more successful. It was evident, that on this occasion,
the Senecas would throw away no chances of triumph.
It has already been mentioned that the forest on the edge of the ravine,
approached within three or four rods of the cottage; and as the ground
was strewn with dry leaves and dead underbrush, the feelings of safety
which the defenders of the cottage, for a moment, had entertained on the
detection of this attempt to set the building on fire, was now exchanged
for alarm. The brand which had fallen by the side of the Indian, had
unfortunately fallen upon a small pile of dry underbrush, which was also
covered with dry leaves. A slight wind, which now blew in occasional
light gusts from the northward, ignited the whole brand into a live
coal, and a feeble blaze began to ascend from around it.
"_Con_-found the fire!" exclaimed Ichabod. "I'll try and stop that
enemy, any way."
He discharged his rifle at the burning brand, and the coal flew
scattered in all directions. This was a risk which he foresaw. The
scattered coals might fall upon other places which were equally
dangerous; if so, the danger would be increased; but there was a chance,
too, that they might fall upon places where they would be extinguished.
For a moment, the experiment seemed perfectly successful; a feeble and
flickering blaze, that seemed about to expire, only remained where the
brand had originally fallen. But another slight gust of wind now came,
and the feeble blaze streamed upwards into a steady fire.
"Over here, with your rifles," shouted Ichabod; and five rifles were at
once discharged into the burning pile. The blazing brush was partially
scattered; but that now seemed to increase the danger. The wind came in
gentle currents, and the dry leaves and brush were taking fire in
half-a-dozen different places. It was useless to fight an enemy which
was only multiplied and made more dangerous by defeat.
"I reckon it's bad enough," said Ichabod, "to have to fight them
rascally Injins, without being obliged to fight the elements, besides.
Wind, fire, and Injins, all at once, are _rayther_ too much for human
natur'."
"What's to be done now?" inquired Barton, who had become very much
agitated by this new danger, for it was apparent that should the dry
wood in the forest set fire to the trees, as would be most likely, with
a northern wind to blow the flames in the direction of the cottage,
nothing could prevent the building from taking fire. But there was yet
hope; the fire might be confined to the underbrush, and expire without
catching among the trees.
"I don't know of anything we can do just now, Squire," replied Ichabod,
to the question of Barton, "except to wait. I've known things to be as
desp'rate before, and come out right in the end. I don't like it,
though, that's sartin. I'm afeard, Eagle's-Wing, that we shall have to
try that thing we talked about."
"Think so, too," was the calm reply of the Tuscarora; "when time come,
then I'm ready."
For a short time, the anxiety felt in the cottage was extreme. It was
yet doubtful whether there was any serious danger from this new enemy or
not. But the fire steadily increased; it ran along the ground, catching
from bush to bush, and among heaps of dry bushes and limbs of trees,
which had been collected by the labor of Barton, and soon the light
began to penetrate the recesses of the forest. The red rays darted in
among the old trees, and lit them up with a strange, wild glare. The
flames crept along with steady pace, as the fire increased, until the
whole ravine was suddenly illumined by a blaze of light, and in its
recesses were disclosed the main body of the Senecas, watching with
savage delight the insidious approaches of their new ally. When they saw
that they were discovered, a wild yell of exultation broke from every
throat, and darting from the ravine, they scattered in all directions
about the cottage; but at sufficient distance to be out of reach of the
rifles. For a short time, all was silent again, and all were intent upon
observing the progress of this new assailant.
The whole surface of the ground for four or five rods in extent,
immediately north of the cottage, seemed now to be on fire. At numerous
points, the fire raged intensely, and shot up tall spires, of flames
among the crackling branches; now catching upon the mossy side of a
tree, it ran upward, darting with the rapidity of lightning for a
moment, then suddenly expiring, leaving a blackened crust, instead of
the fresh green moss. The wind gradually blew stronger and wilder.
Unluckily, heaps of dry wood had been piled around the trunks of trees,
and now the bodies of those trees were seen to be on fire. Up among the
branches leaped the flames: points of fire darted here and there, like
blazing serpents, while, borne by the wind, thick clouds of sparks began
to load the air, and dart towards the doomed roof of the cottage. Soon,
a steady stream of flame began to mount the trunk of a tall dead pine,
which stood upon the edge of the forest. Upward and upward it crept; now
pausing, as if to gnaw inward into its centre, then darting with a leap
like a wild beast, pouncing on its prey. Around the base of the tree,
the fire raged intensely, for here a mass of dry limbs and logs had been
collected; and momentarily, the flames from all sides ate inwardly
towards its centre. A few dry and leafless limbs stood out from the old
trunk, pointing upward; and along these the fire now crept, and they
seemed like tortured arms held bleeding to the sky.
The cottage was no longer safe. A few moments more, and the pine must
fall; if it fell upon the cottage, it would crush it into a heap of
ruins; and if this danger was avoided, the fire could not be escaped.
The intense heat already penetrated the building, and through the
loop-holes streamed the light, with a red, unearthly glare. The Indians
saw that the inmates must either endeavor to escape or be consumed. They
had scattered about the cottage in all directions; not a point was left
unguarded, where their victims could escape; and as the moment of
vengeance approached nearer and nearer, they testified their joy by loud
and exulting shrieks. Every window, every door was guarded; the roof of
the cottage stood out against the sky, and every crack and cranny of its
thatching was exposed. Suddenly, to their surprise and delight, the door
that opened upon the roof was lifted, and their most hated enemy, the
Tuscarora, leaped from the glaring rafters with his rifle in his hand,
and stood for a moment before their eyes, erect and fearless. In the
strong, red light, every feature of his countenance could be
traced--every gesture could be marked. With a steady look of
indifference, he gazed about him for a moment, then darting forward,
leaped from the roof to the ground. The place selected for the leap was
the south-west angle of the building, where he would fall within the
shadow. Thirty rifles had been raised to shoot at him; but the
admiration of the Senecas at this exploit had probably saved his life;
for not a rifle was discharged, until he had darted forward in his leap
into the darkness. Every Indian rushed forward towards the spot where
the Tuscarora had been seen to leap; for this, the most prized, the most
hated of their enemies, they deemed to be now inevitably in their power.
The Tuscarora staggered as he struck the ground; but instantly gathering
himself, he darted towards the grove. Two Senecas leaped before him, who
had been stationed at this point--the others not having yet arrived.
With a blow from his rifle he knocked down one of them, and darting past
the other, gained the grove. The Senecas who had now arrived about the
cottage from the different points, set out in chase; but Panther, who
saw that this would afford means for those yet within the building to
escape, after the lapse of a few minutes, was able to recall a portion
of the Senecas, who were again distributed about the cottage.
But these few minutes had accomplished all that the Tuscarora had
designed. Before he ascended the roof, the remainder of the party inside
gathered by the window through which Guthrie bore off Ruth, on the night
of the former attack. The ladder was in readiness, and at the moment
when the Senecas were seen to rush past the eastern side of the cottage
in pursuit of the Tuscarora, the window was opened, the ladder let down,
and one by one the party quickly descended--Ichabod descending last. As
he stepped out upon the ladder, he closed the window--and when he had
reached the ground, the ladder was thrown down by the side of the
cottage. The party instantly set out toward the pond, and at a distance
of about ten rods, they had descended the hill to a point where they
were concealed in the darkness. It was at just about this moment, that
Panther had again distributed a portion of the Senecas about the
cottage, while another portion was in pursuit of the Tuscarora. Their
flight had thus far been unobserved; and now they walked more leisurely
towards the shore of the pond, where they expected to find the boat
which we described on a former occasion, and the position of which had
been noticed by Ichabod, just before dark, from the cottage. After a
little time, the boat was reached; the party entered it, and an extra
supply of rifles, which had been brought from the cottage, was carefully
deposited. They shoved off from the shore, which, at this point might,
in the progress of the fire, become exposed--and paddling northward,
reached a point where the hill ascended, on the crest, sharply from the
shore, but where the land was sufficiently low in a north-westerly
direction to allow them to obtain a good and but partially obstructed
view of the cottage.
But a few moments after they had taken up this position, they discovered
the roof of the cottage to be on fire. The sparks and pieces of blazing
bark which were blown from the ravine had fallen upon the thatching,
which was of light and combustible material, and had ignited it at
various points; and slowly but surely the flames began to devour this,
the only obstacle, as the Senecas believe, to their complete triumph.
Soon, the fugitives saw the top of the tall, dry pine begin to rock and
waver with its blazing crown; then, slowly bending southward, the huge
trunk fell across the cottage, crushing in the burning roof, and
starting the logs from their places in the sides of the building. The
shrieks of the Indians were horrible, as they now supposed that their
victims were fully in their power. Leaping forwards, they broke in the
doors, and rushed in among the flames. From room to room, they wandered.
Up the stairway, which was covered with burning coals, they rushed, and
gazed in among the fallen and blazing rafters. Not a pale-face was to be
seen. The Senecas could not believe that they had escaped; and again and
again every point and portion of the cottage was searched; until, at
length, it became apparent that their victims had fled. But how, and
where? The superstitious feelings of the Indians, for a moment, were
excited; and they thought that their intended victims must have been
rescued by the direct interposition of the Great Spirit of the
pale-faces. But Panther, saw at once, the manner of the escape; and that
it had been accomplished while the attention of the Senecas was
withdrawn by the daring exploit of the Tuscarora. He immediately ordered
the Indians to scour the woods in all directions, and particularly the
shores of the pond.
The party in the boat could see, from the gestures of the Indians, the
extent of their surprise; and they also well understood the directions
of Panther. They carefully paddled the boat farther out into the pond,
and more towards the northern shore, where they would be completely
hidden, for the present, in the shadows of the hills and trees, from the
light of the fire.
"Them reptiles are deceived this time, any way," said Ichabod, laughing.
"If Eagle's-Wing only gets through his part, according to the programme,
we may consider ourselves pretty tolerably lucky; and I haven't any
doubt but what he will. We shall hear from him before a great while. I
agreed to lay off up here for him."
"That was a daring act on the part of Eagle's-Wing," said Ralph; "and
had I known precisely his purpose, I doubt whether I, for one, should
have assented to it. The chances were ten to one, against his escaping
with life."
"Lord love you, Captain," said Ichabod, "Eagle's-Wing knows Injin natur'
pretty well, considering he's an Injin himself; and he knew that them
rascals would be so astonished, that they wouldn't fire at him till he
had time to get out of their sight. What I was most afeard on, was his
getting off the roof; but it's all right, and went off according to
contract," and Ichabod laughed.
"I can easily bear the destruction of my property," said Barton, "if
Eagle's-Wing escapes. But I think, as Ralph does, that if you had
disclosed the nature of your plan, I should have opposed it. I should,
rather, have relied upon fighting our way through to the shore."
"Didn't we know that?" asked Ichabod, with a laugh. "Nobody but
Singing-Bird was let into that secret; and she, bless her little soul,
ra'ally insisted, for a long time, on going to the roof with him: but
she's got reason, and finally consented to the arrangement."
Singing-Bird, to whom all eyes were now directed, in admiration, only
answered:
"Eagle's-Wing do that for friend. He 'members friend. He wouldn't be
brave Injin if he didn't do _somet'ing_ for friend."
"He has always been the creditor in an account," answered Barton. "He
has given us no opportunity, yet, to repay him for anything."
Both Barton and Ruth, notwithstanding their thankfulness at this escape,
surveyed the destruction of the cottage with feelings of melancholy. To
Barton, it was the home of his old age--where he had planted his
household gods, with the hope that they would survive him. The cottage
had been erected, and had gradually been made a comfortable dwelling, by
his labor; while around it, he had rescued fair fields from the
wilderness, from which he had hoped to derive the means of prosperity.
To Ruth, it was endeared by other associations; and they both saw that
all the hopes and dreams which they had cherished, were ended, and that
this place must again--even if they ultimately succeeded in escaping
from their enemies--pass from their possession, if not from their
remembrance. Barton continued, in answer to Singing-Bird:
"And my power to repay him, is gone. I am now an old man, deprived of
everything but my daughter and my life. But I cannot complain. The
Lord's will be done."
"Let us not think about our loss," said Ruth earnestly, "since we have
saved so much. We truly have need to be thankful to a kind Providence,
that we and all our friends have escaped with our lives."
At this moment, a rifle was heard, at a few rods distance apparently on
the western shore; and at the same instant, there was a sound as of a
heavy body falling into the water. The idea occurred to each in the
boat, that this might be the Tuscarora, and the boat was instantly moved
in that direction. As they approached the shore, they heard some of the
enemy talking, and evidently laboring under a great excitement; and it
was easy to believe that it was owing to the escape of Eagle's-Wing.
They had reached, in perfect silence, within eight or ten rods of the
shore, when Ichabod discovered an Indian swimming towards the boat. It
was the Tuscarora, and he was lifted in, panting with fatigue.
"Long run had this time," said he, "They almost catch me--they shoot me
a little; but better have arm shot, than lose scalp though."
It was found, on examination, that the ball had merely penetrated the
fleshy part of his arm, without having done any very serious injury. It
was immediately bandaged by Ralph, with as much care as their means
would permit; while Ichabod and the negro paddled the boat towards the
northern shore.
It has been mentioned before, in the brief description which we gave of
the pond, that on the north was a low marshy flat, and that the edge of
the pond was thickly bordered with willows and other bushes; but back a
short distance from the shore, the bushes were few and stinted in
growth, while the marsh was so soft, that it was impassable to one
unacquainted with it, even by the aid of day-light. Ichabod and the
Tuscarora were both confident that the Senecas had no canoes upon the
pond; and that there was only one upon the river in the possession of
the Senecas, and that this one was only capable of carrying three or
four persons. There were no materials at hand with which a raft could be
constructed; and it was with a feeling of security that the boat was
made fast among the willows for the night.
The fire about the cottage, for a time, had been gradually diminishing;
and thicker and thicker fell the darkness upon forest and water.
Gradually the shrieks and cries of the Indians subsided, and silence at
length fell upon the scene.