THE DECISIVE BATTLE
The white army was soon hidden in the forest. It was, beyond a fact, the
largest force of its kind that had yet assembled in this region, but it
disappeared as completely as if it had ceased to be at all. A mile from
the river it stopped, and the two commanders held a short conference
with Boone and Kenton. The manner and great reputation of Boone inspired
the utmost confidence, and they were very anxious not only to hear what
he said, but also to do what he suggested. The council was short, and it
was held in the darkness with the soldiers all about.
"Send Henry Ware and his comrades forward to see if the way is open,"
said Boone, "an' if it is, we should rush their camp with all our might.
A night attack is usually risky, but it won't be long until day now, an'
if we can get a start on 'em it will be worth a heap to us."
Adam Colfax and Major Braithwaite agreed with him, and Henry and his
comrades set forth again ahead of the army. Simon Kenton went with them.
The six stole forward. They were quite sure that Timmendiquas would have
out sentinels, but neither he, the other chiefs, nor the renegades would
anticipate so swift a counter stroke.
The country was rough, but they made good progress, flitting forward in
a silent file. Cry of wolf and hoot of owl came now and then to their
ears, but they did not believe that they meant anything save the
announcement from warrior to warrior that all was well.
They managed to come without detection, within several hundred yards of
the camp, where they ascended a little hill and could see the low flare
of light from the fires.
"I don't think we should try to get any closer," said Kenton. "We might
run into a nest of 'em an' never get back. We've seen enough to know
that the army can get up pretty close, an' at least attack before the
savages are wholly ready. S'pose we start back."
Paul rose in obedience to the suggestion, but Henry at once pulled him
down again.
"Somebody's coming," he whispered, and the six lay still in the bushes.
They heard light footsteps, and three men, or rather two men and a boy,
emerged from the shadows. The three were seeking the easiest path, and
they marked where the trees and bushes were scarcest. It was with a
shivering feeling of repugnance and anger that Henry recognized them,
and the same feeling animated his comrades. They were Simon Girty,
Blackstaffe, and Braxton Wyatt, and the three were talking, not loudly,
but in tones that the hidden six could hear distinctly.
"The attack will be begun again to-morrow night," Girty was saying, "an'
it's going to be a success. Whatever you may say about him, Timmendiquas
is a general, and I never before saw the Indians worked up to such a
pitch. They were singing and dancing for hours to-day, an' I believe
they'd now go through a lake of fire an' brimstone to get at that
fleet."
"We'll let the Wyandots lead the way," said Blackstaffe.
"We certainly will," said Girty.
Then the two older men looked at each other and laughed, a low horrible
laugh that made the flesh of Henry and Paul creep.
"Yes," said Girty, "we'll let the Wyandots lead, and then the Shawnees
and Miamis and the others. We'll take our part, but I think some of
these warriors can be spared more readily than we can."
Braxton Wyatt laughed, too, when he understood.
"That's good policy it seems to me," he said. "We plan, while the
warriors do most of the fighting."
"Stick to that, an' you'll be a great man," said Girty.
The king of the renegades stood in a little opening, and the moonlight
fell full upon his face. They could see it distorted into a malicious
grin of cruelty and self-satisfaction. Slowly the rifle barrel of
Shif'less Sol, in the bushes, was raised to a level, and it was pointed
straight at a spot between the cruel, grinning eyes. An infallible eye
looked down the sight, and a steady finger approached the trigger.
Never, until his last day came, in very truth, was Simon Girty, the
renegade, nearer death. But Henry put out his hand, and softly pressed
down the rifle barrel.
"I don't blame you, Sol," he whispered. "It would be getting rid of a
monster and saving many good lives, but you can't do it now. It would
break up our whole plan of attack."
It was one of the greatest griefs in the life of Solomon Hyde, called
the shiftless one, that he was compelled to yield to Henry's advice. He
had held Simon Girty, the arch criminal, under his rifle, and he had
picked out the spot where he knew he could make his bullet hit, and then
he must put down his rifle and pass over the opportunity just as if it
had never been.
"You're right," he whispered back in reluctant words, and lowered his
rifle. The three renegades continued to talk of the projected attack,
but they passed on, and soon their words could be heard no longer. Then
their figures became indistinct and were lost to sight. Shif'less Sol
uttered a low cry, so full of bitterness that Henry was forced to laugh,
knowing as he did its cause.
"I never had sech a chance afore," said Shif'less Sol, "an' I'll never
hev it ag'in."
"Henry was right," said Simon Kenton. "'Twould never have done to have
given an alarm now. We must hurry back, bring up the army, and strike
before the dawn."
There could be no difference of opinion on such a subject, and they
rapidly retraced their footsteps. In three-quarters of an hour they
rejoined the army, and told that the way was clear. The leaders heard
the report with great satisfaction and promptly arranged the plan of
battle. The chief thing that they sought to guard against was the
confusion so often arising from darkness, when friend might fire into
friend.
"They mustn't get too much excited, and they must look before they
shoot," said Boone. "It will be only two hours to daylight, an' if we
can hold together till then we can beat 'em."
The army, although kept in a body, was numbered in detachments. Adam
Colfax took the lead of one, Major Braithwaite another, Boone another,
while Drouillard, Thrale, and all the other prominent men also had
commands. The five, Kenton, and the scouts led the advance.
Once more they took up their progress through the woods, and pressed
swiftly on toward the Indian camp. It was one of those darkest hours
before the dawn, and so many men marching at a rapid pace, could not
keep from making considerable noise. Bushes rustled, arms rattled, and
dry sticks broke with a snap beneath heavy feet.
"On, men! on!" cried Adam Colfax. "We can't be slow now!"
A dog howled, and then another. An Indian sentinel fired his rifle, and
then a second and a third did the same. The white vanguard replied, and
then with a great shout the army rushed toward the Indian force.
But Timmendiquas was not wholly surprised. His men, posted in a circle
around the camp, gave the alarm as they fell back, firing their rifles,
and uttering the long Indian yell. Hundreds of throats took it up, and
the savages, seizing their weapons, sprang forth to the conflict. In a
moment, the woods were filled with sparkling flames, and the bullets
whistled in showers. There were shouts and cries and a rain of twigs cut
off by the bullets in the darkness.
The five and Kenton fell back upon the main body and then rushed on with
them, keeping in the front line.
"Let's keep together! Whatever happens, let's keep together!" cried
Shif'less Sol, and the others in reply shouted their assent. They were
compelled to shout now, because hundreds of rifles were cracking, and
the roar was swelling fast. Innumerable flashes lit up the forest, and a
cloud of fine gray powder rose, stinging the nostrils of the combatants,
and, like an exciting narcotic, urging them on to action.
The first rush of the white army bore all before it. The Indian
sentinels and the others who constituted the fringe of their band were
rapidly driven in on the main body, and many of the soldiers and hunters
began to shout in triumph as they reached the edge of the prairie and
saw their foe, huddled in dark masses beyond. But as they came into the
open they met a strong core of resistance that soon hardened and spread.
The great chief, Timmendiquas, although partly surprised by the swift
attack of the whites, did not lose either his presence of mind or his
courage. He showed on that morning all the qualities of a great general.
He rallied the warriors and posted them in bands here and there.
Hundreds threw themselves upon the ground, and from that less exposed
position sent their bullets into the charging force. Timmendiquas
himself stood near the center with the veterans, Red Eagle and Yellow
Panther, on either side of him. He scorned to seek cover, but remained,
at his full height, where all could see him, shouting his orders and
directing the battle. Behind him were the renegades firing their rifles,
but protecting themselves, with the caution upon which they had
resolved.
Henry and his comrades kept their place in the front of the charge, and,
according to their plan, close together. The darkness was now lighted up
so much by the incessant firing that the boy could see very well not
only the long line of his friends, but the black masses of the enemy as
well. He felt the resistance harden as they came into the prairie, and
he knew that the Indians had been rallied. He thought he heard the voice
of Timmendiquas calling to them, and then he believed that it was only
his fancy. Because he knew that Timmendiquas would do it, his active
brain made a picture of him doing it.
He was suddenly seized and pulled down by the strong arms of Tom Ross.
All his comrades were already stretched flat upon the earth. The next
instant a great volley was fired by the Indians. The bullets from
hundreds of rifles swept over their heads, and many struck true behind
them. Some men fell, and others staggered back, wounded. There were
cries and groans.
The Indian yell, poured from many throats, arose. It was long,
high-pitched, and it seemed to Henry that it had in it a triumphant
note. They had stopped the white advance, and they were exulting. But
the little army, rising up, rushed forward again, and then threw itself
flat upon its face once more to escape the withering fire of the
Indians. From their own recumbent position the white men replied,
sending in the bullets fast.
It was a confused and terrible scene in the intermittent light and
darkness, white men and red men shouting together in their deadly
struggle. The front of the conflict lengthened, and the clouds of smoke
drifted all through the forest. It entered the throats and lungs of the
combatants, and they coughed without knowing it.
Henry lay long on the ground, pushing forward a few feet at a time,
loading and firing his rifle until it grew hot to his hands. He was not
conscious of the passage of time. His brain burned as if with a fever.
He felt now and then a great throb of exultation, because the white army
was always advancing, only a little, it was true, but still it was an
advance, and never a retreat. But the throb of exultation presently
became a throb of rage. The advance of a sudden ceased entirely. The
Indians were gathered in such heavy masses in front that they could not
be driven back. Their front was one continuous blaze of fire, and the
whistling of the bullets was like the steady flowing of a stream.
Timmendiquas, despite his disadvantage, had marshaled his forces well,
and Henry knew it.
The boy began to have a great fear that they would be driven back, that
they would be defeated. Was so much blood to be shed, so much suffering
to be endured for nothing? His thoughts went back a moment to Fort
Prescott and the women and the children there. Theirs would be the worst
fate. He put one hand to his face and felt that it was wet. He was
seized with a furious desire to rise up and rush directly into the flame
and smoke before him. He longed for the power to win the victory with
his single arm.
A lull of a few moments in the firing came presently, and the darkness
instantly closed in again. A long, triumphant yell came from the
Indians, and the white men replied with a shout, also triumphant. Henry
was conscious then that his eyes were smarting from the smoke, and he
coughed once or twice. He half rose to a sitting position, and a hand
fell upon his shoulder.
"Come, my boy," said a voice in his ear. "We want you and your comrades
for a new movement. We've got to take 'em in the flank."
Henry looked up and saw the mild face of Boone, mild even now in the
midst of the battle. He sprang to his feet, and, with a sort of wonder,
he saw his four comrades rise around him, unhurt, save for scratches. It
did not seem possible to him that they could have come so well through
all that fire. He did not think of himself.
"Come," said Boone, and the five went back a little space, until they
came to a clump of trees beneath which Adam Colfax, Major Braithwaite,
Drouillard, Simon Kenton, and few others were talking.
"I hate to risk so many good men," said Adam Colfax.
"It must be done," said Major Braithwaite. "It's our only chance, and we
must take it while the darkness lasts. The day will break in a half
hour."
"You're right," said Adam Colfax, flinging away his last fear. "Take two
hundred of our best men, and may God go with you!"
In five minutes the two hundred were on their way with Major
Braithwaite, the five, Boone, and Kenton at their head. It was their
object to curve about in the woods and then fall suddenly upon the
Indian flank, relying upon weight and surprise. They trod lightly and
soon passed beyond the area of smoke. Behind them the firing was renewed
with great violence and energy. Adam Colfax was pressing the attack
afresh. "Good!" Henry heard Major Braithwaite murmur. "They won't
suspect that we are coming."
Fifteen minutes of marching, and they were at another segment in the
circle of the prairie. The crackle of the firing was now further away,
but when they came to the edge of the open they saw the flash of the
rifles and heard again the repeated whoops of the Indians.
"Now!" exclaimed Daniel Boone. "This is their exposed side, and we must
rush upon them!"
"Come!" exclaimed Major Braithwaite, raising his cocked hat upon the
point of his sword and running into the open prairie. The two hundred
and fifty followed him with a wild shout, and they hurled themselves
upon the Indian flank. At the same time Adam Colfax and his whole force
rushed forward anew.
The two divisions closed down like the clamps of a vise. The charge of
the flanking force was made with such immense courage and vigor that
nothing could withstand it. Major Braithwaite continually shouted and
continually waved his sword. The cocked hat fell off, and was trampled
out of shape by the men behind him, but he did not know it, and he never
regretted it. Henry was conscious, in that wild rush, of the friendly
faces about him, and of the red horde before him, but he felt little
else, save an immense desire to strike quickly and hard.
The red men fight best from ambush and by means of craft and surprise.
Struck so suddenly and with such energy on the flank, they gave way.
Superstition increased their fears. The face of Manitou was turned from
them, and many of them ran for the forest.
Timmendiquas raged back and forth. Now and then he struck fleeing
warriors with the flat of his tomahawk and shouted to them to stay, but
all of his efforts were without avail. The jaws of the vise were coming
closer and closer together. The renegades, considering the battle lost,
were already seeking the refuge of the woods. Yet Timmendiquas would not
go. With the Wyandots and the bravest of the Shawnees and Miamis he
still held the ground where a group of tepees stood, and many men fell
dead or wounded before them.
Adam Colfax and Major Braithwaite met in the prairie, and in their
excitement and joy wrung each other's hands.
"A glorious triumph!" exclaimed the Major.
"Yes, but we must push it home!" said the stern Puritan, his face a red
glow, as he pointed toward the tepee where Timmendiquas and the flower
of the warriors still fought.
Henry was near them and heard them. He saw, also, a gray light shooting
down, and he knew the dawn was at hand.
The Major raised his sword once more. Adam Colfax took his hat in his
hand and waved it. Then the whole white force, uttering a simultaneous
shout, rushed upon the group around Timmendiquas. Henry and his
comrades, shouting with them, were in the front of the attack.
The Indian band was swept away, and, with the battle smoke in his
nostrils, Henry followed the survivors into the forest. The day was
coming, but it was still dark within the shadow of the trees. Henry
marked the dusky form of a tall warrior, and he followed him with every
ounce of energy that he could command.
The warrior ran rapidly and soon the prairie was left behind. The noise
and confusion of the dying battle sank away, but Henry did not notice
it. The fury of the conflict was still in his veins, and he thought of
nothing but to overtake the fleeing warrior, who was not far before him.
The gloom in the forest deepened. Thickets grew all about them, and the
last light from the firing was shut out. Then the tall warrior turned
abruptly and fired at his pursuer. The bullet whistled by Henry's ear,
and he would have fired in return, but it was too late. The warrior was
rushing upon him, and his own impetus carried him forward to meet the
Indian. They were locked the next instant in a desperate grasp, as they
writhed and struggled over the leaves and grass, each putting forth his
utmost strength.
It was too dark in the forest for Henry to see his opponent, but he knew
that he had never before been seized by anyone so powerful. He was only
a boy in years himself, but boys, in his time in the west, developed
fast under a strenuous life, and few men were as tall and strong as he.
Moreover, he knew some of the tricks of wrestling, and the Indians are
not wrestlers. He used all his knowledge now, trying the shoulder hold
and the waist hold and to trip, but every attempt failed. The immense
strength and agility of the Indian always enabled him to recover
himself, and then the struggle was begun anew.
The beads of sweat stood out on Henry's forehead, and he believed that
he could hear his sinews and those of his opponent crack as they put
forth prodigious efforts. Both fell to the ground and rolled over and
over. Then they were back on their feet again, without ever releasing
their hold. Henry tried to reach the knife in his belt, and the Indian
sought his, too. Both failed, and then, Henry, crouching a little,
suddenly put his shoulder against his antagonist's chest, and pushed
with all his might. At the same time he hooked his right foot around the
Indian's ankle and pulled with a mighty jerk.
It was a trick, the device of a wrestler, and the great Indian, losing
his balance, went down heavily upon his back. Henry fell with his full
weight upon him. The Indian uttered a gasp, and his grasp relaxed. Henry
in an instant sprang to his feet. He snatched up his rifle that he had
dropped in the bushes, and when the fallen man rose the muzzle of a
loaded rifle, held by steady hands, confronted him.
Henry looked down the sights straight into the face of the Indian, and
beheld Timmendiquas, the great White Lightning of the Wyandots.
Timmendiquas saw the flash of recognition on the boy's face and smiled
faintly.
"Shoot," he said. "You have won the chance."
Conflicting emotions filled the soul of Henry Ware. If he spared
Timmendiquas it would cost the border many lives. The Wyandot chief
could never be anything but the implacable foe of those who were
invading the red man's hunting grounds. But Henry remembered that this
man had saved his life. He had spared him when he was compelled to run
the gantlet. The boy could not shoot.
"Go!" he said, lowering his rifle. "You gave me my life, and I give you
yours."
A sudden light glowed in the eyes of the young chief. There was
something akin in the souls of these two, and perhaps Timmendiquas alone
knew it. He raised one hand, gave a salute in the white man's fashion,
and said four words.
"I shall not forget."
Then he was gone in the forest, and Henry went back to the battle field,
where the firing had now wholly ceased. The white victory was complete.
Many Indians had fallen. Their losses here and at the river had been so
great that it would be long before they could be brought into action
again. But the renegades had made good their escape. They did not find
the body of a single one of them, and it was certain that they were
living to do more mischief.
Henry sought his friends at once, and his joy was very great when he
discovered them to be without wounds save those of the slightest nature.
The leaders, too, had escaped with their lives, and they were exultant
because they had captured a thousand rounds of ammunition for the two
cannon and four hundred good muskets from the Canadian posts, which
would be taken with the other supplies to Pittsburgh.
"It was worth stopping and fighting for these," said Adam Colfax.
* * * * *
A week later the five sat in a little glade about a mile south of the
Ohio, but far beyond the mouth of the Licking. They had left the fleet
that morning as it was moving peacefully up the "Beautiful River," and
they meant to pass the present night in the woods.
Twilight was already coming. A beautiful golden sun had just set, and
there were bars of red in the west to mark where it had gone.
Jim Hart was cooking by a small fire. Paul lay at ease on the grass,
dreaming with eyes wide open. Tom Ross was cleaning his rifle, and he
was wholly immersed in his task. Henry and Shif'less Sol sat together
near the edge of the glade.
"Henry," said the shiftless one, "when that battle wuz about over I
thought I saw you runnin' into the woods after a big warrior who looked
like a chief."
"You really saw me," said Henry, "and the Indian was a chief, a great
one. It was Timmendiquas, although I did not know it then."
"Did you overtake him?"
"I did, and we had a fight in the dark. Luck was with me, and at the end
of the struggle I held him at the muzzle of my rifle."
"Did you shoot?"
"No, I could not. He had saved my life, and I had to pay the debt."
The shiftless one reached out his hand and touched Henry's lightly.
"I'm glad you didn't shoot," he said. "I'd have done the same that you
did."
An hour later they were all asleep but Tom Ross, who watched at the edge
of the glade, and Henry, who lay on his back in the grass, gazing at the
stars that flashed and danced in the blue sky.
Sleep came to the boy slowly, but his eyelids drooped at last, and a
wonderful peace came over him. The wind rose, and out of the forest
floated a song, soothing and peaceful. It told him that success, the
reward of the brave, had come, and, as his eyelids drooped lower, he
slept without dreams.
THE END
* * * * *
_The Young Trailers Series_
_Two boys, Henry Ware and Paul Cotter, and three scouts are the chief
characters in these books dealing with frontier life and adventures with
the Indians about the time of the Revolutionary War. Each story is
complete in itself, full of excitement, and historically accurate._
The Young Trailers
Two boys and their families arrive in Kentucky and build a settlement.
The settlers begin to have trouble with the Indians.
The Forest Runners
The two boys set out to carry powder from one settlement to another. The
Indians get word of it.
The Eyes of the Woods
The Indians at length determine to destroy the boys and their friends.
In the struggle the boys call into play all their lore of the woods.
The Keepers of the Trail
In this book the boys and their comrades defeat a great Indian army and
save Kentucky from invasion.
The Free Rangers
Five of the settlers journey down the Mississippi to urge the Spanish
Governor-General not to join the Indians in fighting.
The Riflemen of the Ohio
The band of five settlers act as scouts for a great fleet coming up the
Mississippi with supplies for the Revolutionists at Pittsburg.
The Scouts of the Valley
The two boys go into Pennsylvania to help the settlers there fight the
Iroquois. They are active in several battles.
The Border Watch
Learning that another expedition against the settlers in Kentucky is
being prepared, the boys join the famous fighters under George Rogers
Clark.
_The French and Indian War Series_
_In this series Mr. Altsheler has endeavored to describe the events of
the French and Indian War, the period in American History from 1754 to
1763. The central characters in the story are Robert Lennox, an American
boy; Tayoga, an Onondaga Indian; and David Willet, a hunter. The books
are all historically correct._
The Hunters of the Hills
This book begins the adventures of Robert Lennox and Tayoga, the Indian,
and tells of what they do at Quebec.
The Shadow of the North
Robert, Tayoga and David Willet are scouting in the wilderness, when
they learn that war is declared. They fearlessly push on.
The Rulers of the Lakes
After Braddock's defeat, the young heroes start north and finally take
part in the Battle of Lake George.
The Masters of the Peaks
Robert and his friends spoil the plans of a spy and take part in a big
battle before the massacre at Fort William Henry.
The Lords of the Wild
Robert is captured and witnesses the defeat of the British and
Americans. He then escapes and, with his friends, starts a mighty effort
for victory.
The Sun of Quebec
The story narrates the adventures of Robert and his friends during the
Battle of Quebec.
_The Civil War Series_
_In this series of stories Mr. Altsheler covers the principal battles of
the Civil War. In four of the volumes Dick Mason, who fights for the
North, is the leading character, and in the others, his cousin, Harry
Kenton, who joins the Confederate forces, takes the principal part._
The Guns of Bull Run
Harry Kenton follows the lead of his father and joins the Southern
forces. His cousin, Dick Mason, the hero, fights with the North.
The Guns of Shiloh
Dick takes part in the battle of Mill Spring, is captured but escapes.
The story gives a vivid account of the first defeat of the South.
The Scouts of Stonewall
Harry and some friends become aides of Stonewall Jackson. They follow
him through the campaign in the Valley of Virginia.
The Sword of Antietam
After engaging in the Battle of Shiloh, Dick gets into three big fights.
Antietam is the big battle described, with McClellan always in the
foreground.
The Star of Gettysburg
In this book Harry and his friends take part in the battles of
Fredericksburg, The Wilderness and finally Gettysburg. General Lee is a
central figure.
The Rock of Chickamauga
This volume deals with the crisis of the Union during the siege of
Vicksburg and the Battle of Chickamauga. Dick takes an active part.
The Shades of the Wilderness
The story opens with Lee's retreat after Gettysburg. Harry is sent to
Richmond and becomes involved in a dangerous situation with a spy.
The Tree of Appomattox
This description of the Battle of Appomattox has been written from the
account of an eyewitness. Dick plays an important part. The volume
closes with the blue and the gray turning toward a new day.
_The Texan Series_
_Three stories telling of the Texan struggle for independence and the
events culminating in the capture of the erratic Santa Anna._
The Texan Star
Ned Fulton, the hero, is a prisoner in the city of Mexico. He makes an
exciting escape and sees the capture of San Antonio.
The Texan Scouts
Ned Fulton and his friends are right in the midst of exciting events
that keep the reader continually on edge. The battle of the Alamo is the
climax of the story.
The Texan Triumph
The duel of skill and courage between Ned and Urrea, his young Mexican
enemy, furnishes pages of excitement. The battle of San Jacinto, which
secured Texan Independence, and the capture of Santa Anna by five Texans
is vividly described.
_The World War Series_
_Mr. Altsheler, who was in Vienna the day war was declared on Servia in
Munich when war was declared against Russia, and in England when the
British forces were mobilizing, has given in these three volumes the
impressions he gained at the places of action during the world crisis._
The Guns of Europe
A young American, unable to reach home, enlists with the Allies where he
sees active service from the beginning. The story closes with the fierce
fighting which preceded the retreat of the Germans from Paris.
The Forest of Swords
The hero finds himself in Paris with Phillip Lannes, his friend, and the
Germans only fifteen miles away. Finally the enemy is turned back at the
Marne, a battle in which John and Phillip are actively engaged.
The Hosts of the Air
The pretty young sister of Phillip is seized by the enemy and carried
into Austria. John resolves to get her back and his adventures make a
wonderfully exciting story.
THE GREAT WEST SERIES
The Lost Hunters
The Great Sioux Trail
BOOKS NOT IN SERIES
Apache Gold
The Quest of the Four
The Last of the Chiefs
In Circling Camps
The Last Rebel
A Soldier of Manhattan
The Sun of Saratoga
A Herald of the West
The Wilderness Road
My Captive