THE CABIN CONFERENCE.
The scout kept quiet until both of them had disappeared, and then he
rose up from his cramped position behind the rock.
“Well, this is a pretty go,” he muttered to himself. “Both sides have
got their plans laid kinder cute. But I guess I shall have a word to say
in this ’ere business. Wal, we’ll have a reckoning some day. If I could
see yer old head up thar among the rocks, I should be tempted to put a
bullet through it. I’ll be darned if I hain’t a good mind to shoot yer
owl off his perch, anyway. You thought he was fooling ye, but he wa’n’t.
I was here myself, all the time. But I guess I’ll let him alone. The
bird ain’t to blame, anyway. Jest git yer p’izen ready for little Ruth
if you want to. I guess it will be some time before you’ll have a chance
to give it to her. It will, anyway, if I and Susannah can get to Sam
Wilson’s cabin afore the red-skins. They’ve got some the start, but they
can’t come in. ’Tain’t no use. Dick, the Death-Dealer, will get there
afore ’em, and if they don’t get a good peppering out of yer mouth,
Susannah, then I miss my guess. Come on now, for we mustn’t let the
grass grow under our feet.”
Thus addressing his mute companion, Dick threw it over his shoulder, and
turning his back upon the abode of the Wizard, he dashed away through
the forest at a pace that few could imitate.
Already since the moment when he had been started from his resting-place
by the appearance of the first savage that afternoon, he had traversed
many miles, a portion of which he had been obliged, as the reader
already knows, to run for his life.
Still he felt not the first inclination of weariness, as most any man
would have done. His powers of endurance were great, and he had been
schooled in the work until it was a second nature with him.
The long rest he had had through the heat of the day was greatly in his
favor, and at this moment he would have said that he felt as fresh as he
did when he first rose from the earth from his nap.
Of only one thing did he think he stood in need, and that was food.
He had not broke his fast since morning. But he had often gone longer
than this without eating, and now there was neither time nor opportunity
for him to do so.
He knew that the safety of Sam Wilson and his family depended upon his
reaching their cabin as soon as he could.
Over two hours had elapsed since he had given his pursuers the slip, and
the distance they were in advance depended upon how much time they had
spent in searching for him after they had lost his trail.
But be that as it might, he knew well that he had no time to lose, and
therefore he bent every energy to the task of getting over the ground as
fast as possible.
The moon had now risen high above the tree-tops, throwing a flood of
silver light down into the forest, rendering it in places almost as
light as day.
This was very much to his advantage, and aided him in various ways.
It enabled him to avoid difficult places, where his progress would have
been slow, and it also served to keep him in a straight line toward the
place of his destination.
Never turning from the point toward which his mind was set, the scout
went onward.
But one thought was in his mind.
Should he be too late to save his friends from the terrible fate which
threatened them?
Over and over again he asked himself this question.
He could only answer it by hoping for the best.
More than once had he warned Sam Wilson to leave his cabin in the forest
and take up his abode in some settlement where he would not be so much
exposed; but he would not listen to him.
He was as safe in one place as another, he always declared, but now the
hour had come when he would find out his mistake.
It was near a half-dozen miles to the nearest settlement, and thus he
was as completely cut off from aid as though he were in the heart of the
wilderness.
On he went, never for a moment flagging in his pace.
The moon rose higher and higher, and at last he judged from it that
midnight was near at hand.
He could not be far from the clearing now. Were the red-skins before or
behind him?
The sky as yet gave no evidence of fire near at hand, and though he
paused and listened he could not hear the slightest sound.
A calm unbroken by aught reigned around.
But it was always the stillest before a storm.
Would it prove so in this case?
From what he heard that night he could think it would be otherwise.
At last the broad field of moonlight which lay through the trees before
him told him that he was close to the edge of the clearing.
A few minutes more and his suspense was at an end.
The cabin stood unharmed in the center of the clearing, and a light
gleaming out from the window told him that they had not all retired as
yet.
“Thank fortin we’re in time, Susannah,” he exclaimed, as he paused for a
moment to wipe the profuse perspiration from his brow. “I wonder what it
is that keeps ’em up so late? I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Ned
Tapley was here sitting Ruth up. I hope he is, ’ca’se thar’ll be one
more shot on our side. Ned can handle a rifle nigh about as well as I
can you, Susannah.”
He did not lose many moments here, but with long strides he crossed the
clearing and approached the cabin. Noiselessly he came up and peered in
through the crevice of the window through which the light shone out.
He was right in his surmises. Ned Tapley was seated within, with Ruth’s
head resting upon his shoulder. His arm was about her waist, and in
their happiness they had little thought of the danger which menaced
them, or that other eyes than their own were looking upon them.
Dick hugged his rifle close to him.
“They’re as loving as you and I,” he said to himself. “We’ve been in
pretty ’tarnal tough scrapes afore now, Susannah, and if signs don’t
fail they’ll be too, afore they’re out of this. I hate to disturb ’em
but it’s got to be done. So here goes.”
Suiting the action to the word, he rapped loudly upon the door, bringing
the startled lovers to their feet.
“Who is there?” demanded Ned.
“Dick. Open the door and let me in.”
“It is the scout,” said Ruth. “Where can he have come from at this time
of night?”
As Ned could not answer this question of Ruth’s, he unbarred the door,
giving admittance to the scout that he might reply for himself.
“Come in. I’m glad to see you,” exclaimed the young man, grasping him by
the hand. “You are the last person that I would have thought of turning
up to-night.”
“Am sorry to interrupt yer courting, youngster, but it had better be me
than somebody else. Anyway I’m glad to see you here. I wish there was a
dozen more from the settlement, for I’m afraid we shall need ’em afore
morning.”
“What do you mean? Is there danger abroad to-night?” demanded Ned,
anxiously, while Ruth’s hand which she had placed in that of the scout’s
trembled in spite of her efforts to prevent it.
“’Tain’t no use to try to deceive you,” said Dick, after he had returned
the greeting of Ruth. “I ain’t got the time, even if I wanted to. Call
up Sam and I’ll tell you what I know. But first mind that the door is
barred strong. There’s no telling when the red-skins may be upon us, and
it’s best to be prepared.”
“I’m here,” exclaimed the settler, emerging from the other apartment
with his rifle in his hand. “What is the matter, Dick? Are the red-skins
on the rampage ag’in?”
Ned had been looking to the door, and now he came back again, and all
waited anxiously for the scout to speak.
He did not keep them long in suspense, but in as few words as possible
he made them acquainted with the danger they were in.
Though the face of Ruth was as white as snow, she did not cry out, when
she comprehended the danger she was in, but the mother who had joined
the group in season to hear the burden of the scout’s communication gave
utterance to her fears.
“Oh, Ruth, my child, what shall be done?” she cried. “I was fearful the
other day when the savage was here that you had offended him; but I did
not think he would plan so terrible a thing as this.”
“I don’t know why you didn’t,” said the scout, bluntly. “You can’t trust
one of the race half so far as you can see ’em. That I found out long
ago. They never enjoy themselves half so much as they do when they are
burning, and cutting, and slashing round and raising scalps. That’s what
they were made for I suppose, and I don’t know as they can help it.”
“Do you think that they are close at hand?” asked Ned, as he took his
rifle from the corner of the room and carefully examined the priming.
“Yes, I expect ’em any moment. It was a wonder that they didn’t get here
afore me. I guess they hunted longer for my trail than I thought they
would. But they had ought to know better by this time, than to think
they could catch me arter I’ve got wind of what they’re up to.”
“What had we better do?” asked the settler, anxiously. “Stick by the
cabin, hadn’t we?”
“Yes. It’s all the sight we’ve got. If we run for the woods, like as not
we shall stumble right into their clutches. The walls of the cabin ar’
thick, and we’ve got three rifles to help ourselves with. We’re safer
here than we should be anywhere else.”
“But there is another one to help us,” said Ruth. “The man up in the
loft. He must be sound asleep not to hear us. Had we not better call
him?”
“I’m a-coming,” cried a voice, overhead. “I’ll be down thar jest as soon
as I can get my legs into my trowsers. Rot the luck, that ain’t the
right hole anyway. I never could get on my fixin’s in the dark.
Jerusalem! there goes a gallows-button! Right down through a crack in
the floor as sure as preaching. Say, below there! Ye didn’t hear it
drop, did ye?”
No answer was made to this inquiry, while the scout stared upward for a
moment as if in astonishment, and then turned his inquiring gaze into
the faces of those about him, as though he was mutely demanding who the
stranger was.
But they had no chance to answer him, before a huge pair of feet
appeared upon the upper round of the ladder, followed by a pair of legs
so long that Dick began to wonder if any body would follow at all. But
it did at length, crowned by a head, and the whole of the stranger was
revealed to his wondering gaze.
Long and lank, it seemed to Dick as though he must be at least seven
feet in hight. He had only stopped to half clothe himself, and the rest
of his garments he carried upon his arm. His face was sharp and thin,
and the lower part of it was covered with a long, thin beard, which
stuck out in every direction like the quills of a porcupine. His eyes,
which were small and restless, had a sharp look about them, and his tone
and twang proclaimed him at once to be a Yankee.
If the scout gazed upon him curiously, the new-comer returned it with
interest. Evidently he had never seen such an extraordinary figure as
that presented by the scout. Evidently he wished to make some remarks
upon him, but he contented himself with a single exclamation.
“Whew!”
“Who are you?” demanded Dick, a little impatient of the scrutiny the
other had bestowed upon him, forgetting that he himself had been guilty
of the same.
“Wal, I don’t mind telling ye,” answered the Yankee, as he went on with
his toilet. “My name is Peleg Parker, and I hail from New Hampshire. I
was raised in Pigwaket, right up under the shadder of the White
Mountains. I couldn’t make money fast enough up there, and so I took to
peddling, and so wandered away out into these ’ere parts. My pack is up
in the garret, and I’ve got as good an assortment in it as ever was seen
this side of the mountains. Prehaps I can trade a little with ye in the
morning? Will sell cheaper than dirt. There didn’t any of you see that
button drop down here, did ye? I wouldn’t lose it for a fourpence, for I
couldn’t match it out in these parts.”
Mrs. Wilson replied in the negative, and then Ned Tapley said:
“You don’t know, perhaps, the danger we’re in. We’re expecting every
moment that the savages will attack the cabin.”
“I know it, and I’m worried nigh about to death about my pack. If the
red-skins get hold on it I’m ruined. My hull fortin is in it—ev’ry
darned cent I’m worth. Say, Mister, you don’t think they can break in
here, do you?”
This was addressed to Dick, who replied somewhat angrily:
“I wouldn’t wonder if they did. They’ll do their best to, at any rate.
You had better worry about yer scalp than about that ’ere pack o’
your’n. If you wa’n’t asleep when I came here, you wouldn’t ask such a
question as that.”
“Asleep! I’ll be darned if I’ve slept a wink to-night. I knew the young
folks were courting down here, and it put me in mind of the time when I
used to be in that business myself. I’ve courted more’n a dozen gals,
off and on, up in New Hampshire, and nigh about every one of ’em give me
the mitten in the end.”
“I don’t wonder at it,” muttered the scout.
“Wal, I thought of ’em down here for a good while, and got a-wondering
if I couldn’t sell ’em a good bargain out of my pack if they were going
to housekeeping, and then I rolled over and was just going to sleep,
when you made that thundering racket at the door. And now here I am up
ag’in without having got a wink of sleep to-night.”
“You’ll be lucky if you ever do again,” muttered the scout. “If we can’t
keep the red-skins out of here, you’ve taken your last nap and cheated
the last one you ever will.”
The Yankee was about to make some rejoinder to this, when Sam Wilson
broke in:
“This won’t do for us to stand talking here. We must keep a watch
without. I will go up into the loft and station myself at one of the
loopholes there. We mustn’t let the red-skins get up under the walls of
the cabin unless we want to be smoked out.”
“I will go,” said Ned, making a move toward the ladder. “Do you stay
here and make ready for their coming. I’ll keep my eyes open, and give
the alarm the first glimpse I get on them.”
“I swan, I wish I was in New Hampshire,” exclaimed Peleg. “I’ll bet a
dollar that ’ere pack will go afore I get out of this scrape.”
“What have you got for weapons?” demanded the scout, sharply. “We shall
have need of every thing in that line afore morning. Have you got a
rifle?”
“How in the name of Jerusalem do you think I can carry a rifle along
with a pack? I guess you never was in the peddling line, was ye?”
“No.”
“So I thought. And jest at this time I wish I wa’n’t neither. I guess it
would be money in my pocket if I was out of this scrape.”
“But what have you got?” demanded the scout, impatiently. “Any pistols?”
“Yes, a pair of beauties up in my pack. But I don’t want to dirt ’em up
in this scrape if I can help it. I calculated to make a good thing out
of ’em when I found the right customer.”
Dick gave utterance to something which sounded very much like an oath.
“You’ve got a customer for ’em now, and if you save yer scalp in the
trade you’ll make the best bargain you ever did. Bring them down and
load them up at once. We ain’t got a moment to lose in getting ready.”
With evident reluctance the Yankee turned away and clambered once more
up to the loft. It took him some little time to search them out in the
dark, but when he returned he had them in his hands.
The scout took them from him, for the purpose of examining them to see
if they were properly loaded and in good order.
“Come,” said Peleg. “What will you give me for ’em? I’ll sell ’em
’tarnal cheap. Speak out. I stump you to make me an offer.”
The sound of footsteps was heard above their heads, and the next moment
the excited face of Ned was thrust down through the opening.
“They are coming; a half-score of them at least are crossing the
clearing.”
Mrs. Wilson and Ruth grew paler if possible than before, while Sam and
the scout exchanged glances, which told of the apprehension they felt.
As for the Yankee, he only muttered:
“Darn it, why couldn’t they have waited a minute longer. They’ve sp’iled
a trade.”