THE ALARM
With rare presence of mind, Beatrice blew out the candles, and they
made their way to the river in the darkness. The mist was rising from
the bare earth and the air was heavy with dew. There was no outward
sign of danger; but the grey shadows were portentous of evil, and in
the very stillness was a nameless fear.
Mrs. Mackenzie had the baby in her arms. "Smother him if he cries,"
said the trader, in a low tone, but, fortunately, the child kept
quiet. Maria Indiana began to wail and her father shook her roughly.
"Keep still!" he whispered warningly.
Beatrice took charge of the other children, who did as they were told
without a murmur of complaint. The bateau lay at its moorings and they
got into it with as little noise as possible. Mackenzie and Robert
were at the oars.
The stream was narrow, yet the minutes passed like hours, and the
sound of the oars seemed carried far into the night. "Careful, now,"
whispered Mackenzie. Robert took the little girl in his arms and they
ran up the esplanade to the Fort.
Dim shapes of horror seemed hovering around them as they strained
their ears to catch the savage cry which had blazed the red trail of
torture from Jamestown to the Lakes. Soldiers ran to meet them, picked
up the two older children, and hurried with them into the Fort. As
they entered the stockade, the heavy gate crashed into place.
"Thank God," breathed Mackenzie, "we are safe!"
On the parade-ground was a scene of confusion. Men ran to and fro,
carrying ammunition and pails of water to the blockhouses and points
marked on the stockade. Pine knots, thrust between the bars, blazed
fitfully, throwing a lurid light here and there and making the
darkness deeper by contrast.
From the windows and open doors of the officers' quarters came stray
gleams of light. White-faced men and women ran in and out of the
shadows, hoarse cries of command were heard, and it seemed like some
vivid dream.
Beatrice ran to the stables, and Queen whinnied when she felt the
girl's soft hand upon her. "Hush," she said, "we came together,
Beauty, and we'll stay together--while we're here," she added, with a
little choke in her voice.
Over by the barracks a man and a boy were talking to Captain Franklin,
while a little group of people listened. Beatrice, with Queen's halter
in her hand, went near enough to hear.
"I knew something was wrong," the man was saying. "A dozen of 'em came
in all painted up, but Frenchy and White seemed to think it was all
right and went on talking to them. I says to the kid here, 'They ain't
Pottawattomies, and we'd better get away if we can. Do as you see me
do.'
"So we went out to the canoes, and two of the red devils followed us
to ask where we were going. I told 'em we were going over to feed the
cattle and we'd be back soon to get supper. When we got across we
pulled some hay and pretended to get the cattle together, but as soon
as we got behind a stack, we ran for the Fort. Two shots were fired
after we left, and God only knows what they're doing up there now.
There must be thousands of them in the woods."
"Where's Chan?" asked Mrs. Mackenzie.
"Haven't seen him since noon," replied her husband. "He'll have to
look out for himself."
"Where are the soldiers who went fishing?" asked Beatrice.
"They haven't come back," answered the Captain; "but they're armed."
"That won't do any good," said Lieutenant Howard. Two of the soldiers
standing by ran to the blockhouses without waiting for an order. The
deep-throated guns thundered a warning, and confused echoes came back,
but there was no other answer.
Preparations for fight went on. The men in the blockhouses were
ordered to stay there, and others were assigned to the same posts.
Still others were stationed at the magazine and at regular intervals
along the stockade. The gates were heavily guarded, and Captain
Franklin ordered the women and children to the officers' quarters, but
only Mrs. Mackenzie obeyed.
"I'll stay here," said Mrs. Franklin, in open defiance.
"Wait till we are attacked," cried Katherine.
"Queen and I will stay together," said Beatrice, proudly.
Ronald was rapidly loading the army pistols and distributing them
among the women. Beatrice was standing with her arm thrown over the
mare's neck when he came to her, and the fitful light of the pine
knots shone full upon her face and her glorious hair. Her eyes were
bright and she breathed rapidly, but no one could have said she was
afraid.
For a moment they stood there, looking into each other's eyes. "When
the first Indian leaps the stockade, put it to your temple and fire,"
said Ronald, almost in a whisper.
Beatrice took the heavy pistol from him with a steady hand. "Give me
another cartridge," she said.
"What for?"
"For Queen. I won't have her hurt, and she goes first."
The Ensign obeyed, with another long look at the girl. "You're a
thoroughbred," he said. For a breathless instant they faced each
other, then Ronald clicked his heels together, saluted, and turned
away.
Something stirred painfully in the girl's heart. As in a dream, she
saw Mrs. Mackenzie and the children going into Lieutenant Howard's,
watched Forsyth and the trader as they loaded their muskets, and heard
Katherine's terrible laugh when she put the cold muzzle of the pistol
to her temple to see how it would feel.
Then Franklin and Ronald passed her. "I won't give an order," the
Captain was saying; "it's a job for volunteers."
"May I have them?" asked the Ensign.
"Yes--six. We can spare no more."
A moment later a clear voice sounded above the clamour, "Attention!"
There was the rush of hurrying feet, an instant's wondering silence,
then Ronald spoke. "Boys," he said, "Mrs. Burns has a baby a day
old, and there is no one with her but her husband. I'm going after
them--who's going with me?"
The soldiers, to a man, rallied around him. "I!" came from every
throat. "I'm going!"
"Six only," he said. He quickly selected his men, they snatched up
their guns, and, with a warning "hush!" from him, they went to the
bateau in which the Mackenzies had crossed.
"Steady!" came Ronald's low voice, then the oars murmured in the water
and the heavy gate rumbled into place once more.
Forsyth, stunned by the whirl of events, was leaning on his musket,
staring vacantly into space. Across the parade-ground his face
appeared to Beatrice in the last flicker of a burnt-out knot. All her
pent-up anger returned to her, and, still smarting under the memory of
his affront, she left her horse and went over to him.
"Why didn't you go with him?" she demanded.
"Who--where?"
"Ensign Ronald!"
"I--I don't know," he stammered.
He had told the unvarnished truth, but she interpreted it in her
own way. "I'll tell you why you didn't go," she said, with measured
distinctness. Then her eyes flashed and her breast heaved.
"Coward!" she blazed.
Robert started as if he had been struck, but before he could speak,
she had left him and gone back to Queen.
Her lip curled as she saw him standing there, leaning on his musket,
with his head bowed. His habit of self-analysis asserted itself, and
he began to wonder whether she had been right. The blood that had left
his heart came back in tides of pain, and the word burned itself upon
his consciousness. "Coward," he said to himself, "coward! She called
me a coward!"
Yet he knew that what she had said did not matter so much as the
possibility that she had spoken truly--that his self-respect meant
more than any woman's praise or blame. His reason told him that; but
her scornful, accusing face flitted before him and he had an impulse
to get away--it did not matter where. Still dazed, he went to the
blockhouse at the north-west corner of the stockade and joined the men
there.
On the parade-ground Doctor Norton was making grewsome preparations.
A stretcher was placed near each blockhouse, and others at regular
intervals. Bottles were ranged in rows upon the ground, and piles of
bandages showed whitely under the flare of the torches.
He looked up, to find Katherine at his side. "Let me help you," she
said.
"No; there's nothing you can do just now, but I'm afraid we'll have
our hands full later if--Go and scrape some lint," he broke off
abruptly, "and make some coffee. Get the other women to help you."
Here the Lieutenant passed them, without seeming to see them, and she
followed him with a guilty feeling in her heart.
When she entered her own house, she found her mother there, scraping
lint and making bandages, while a pot of strong coffee was already
steaming on the hearth and piles of cut bread were stacked upon the
table.
"This is all we can do, dear," said Mrs. Mackenzie.
"Let me help you, mother--I'll get some more old linen."
Mrs. Franklin came in with her arms full of white cloth, which she
tore into strips and wound tightly, ready for immediate use. They
worked by the light of a single candle, and the three loaded pistols
lay on the table in front of them.
"If we sleep to-night," said the Captain's wife at length, without
pausing in her task, "I'll take Miss Manning and Mrs. Burns, when the
boys come back."
"Mother and the children can stay here," said Katherine; "but I
haven't room for any more."
"That's all right," answered Mrs. Mackenzie. "The men can go to the
barracks."
More than an hour passed, but nothing was heard from the rescue party,
and the fear of danger deepened. The Lieutenant came in, endeavouring
to conceal his nervousness.
"That's good," he said, indicating the piles of lint and bandages.
Then he drank a cup of strong, black coffee, and paced back and forth
uneasily.
"Where are the boys?" asked Katherine. "Isn't it time for them to come
back?"
"No, I don't think so; we could hardly expect them yet."
"Couldn't some of the others go after them?"
"Heavens, no! We haven't fifty men here, and we need every one. Chan
is missing, seven have gone after Mrs. Burns, and six are on a fishing
trip--that's fourteen out of our small force. In their place we have
Father John, Forsyth, and the man and boy from Lee's. The Indians are
probably gathering in the woods and making ready to attack us. God!"
he said, under his breath, "why can't we have troops!"
Katherine warned him with a glance which almost imperceptibly
indicated Mrs. Franklin, who was hard at work, seemingly absorbed in
her task. "Where's Wallace?" she asked, without looking up.
"Walking around the parade-ground. He's safe," he added bitterly;
"don't worry about him."
Mrs. Mackenzie and Katherine both frowned at the emphasis on the last
word. "Don't worry about me, either," he continued; "I'm going now."
Katherine went to the door with him. "Can I do anything more, dear?"
she asked.
"No," he said roughly, "unless you want to mind your own business for
a while!" He laughed harshly, pushed her from him, and went out.
"Ralph isn't well," she sighed, going back to the table; "and I'm
afraid something has happened outside, too. I wonder where the boys
are?"
The whole garrison was asking the same question secretly; but no
man would openly admit that there was ground for anxiety. Beatrice
had tied Queen to the flag-pole, and was besieging the Doctor with
inquiries.
"Tell me," she pleaded, for the third time, "haven't they been gone
long enough to get back?"
"Yes," he answered finally; "they have. They should have been here
long ago."
"I knew it!" she exclaimed. "I'm going to the blockhouse to see if
they aren't coming!"
She called to those above her, but no one heard, so she went up the
ladder. "Where are they?" she cried, bursting in upon the startled
group.
Even as she spoke there was a faint "halloo" from the west. "They're
coming," shouted Robert, but his voice was lost, for the sentinel at
the gate had heard also.
The parade-ground filled with people, and Beatrice had turned to
descend the ladder, when Robert caught her by the arm.
"Beatrice!" he gasped. "Let me know the worst--do you despise me?"
"Yes," she answered, coolly. "Please let go of me, and never dare to
touch me again."
The gate was lifted and seven men came in, carrying the mattress on
which lay Mrs. Burns and her baby. Mrs. Franklin led the way to her
hospitable door, where Mrs. Mackenzie and Katherine were already
waiting to do what they could in the way of making the mother and
child comfortable.
It was Mrs. Mackenzie who first noticed that Ronald was not with them.
"Where's George?" she asked, in a low tone.
"He's gone up the river, ma'am," answered one of the soldiers. "We
begged him not to, but he would go, and he wouldn't let a one of us
go with him. He thought he heard a noise, so he went up-stream to see
what it was."
Mr. Burns had seen no Indians, but, like the others, thought they were
gathering in the woods. He was far away from the house at the time the
man had shouted the warning; but he had heard the two shots at Lee's
and the guns from the Fort.
"Captain," said Lieutenant Howard, "I'll be one of a party to go and
find Ronald. He's probably up at Lee's."
"You won't," growled the Captain, biting his mustache. "Just because
the young fool chooses to risk his life for nothing, I won't expose
five or six men to danger. We have none to spare."
"How did he go?" asked the Doctor of Mr. Burns.
"He took my boat. He'll pull back down-stream quick enough if anything
is wrong."
"No he won't," returned the Doctor, warmly; "you don't know the lad."
Robert walked back and forth on the parade-ground, sorely troubled on
his own account, and deeply concerned for the safety of his friend.
Mackenzie shared his anxiety, but quickly vetoed the suggestion that
they two follow him.
"'T ain't no manner of use, Rob," he said, kindly. "We're under
military orders, and you heard what the Captain said. Besides, that
dare-devil boy ain't afraid of anything, and I guess he'll come out
with a whole skin--he always has."
"Were you thinking of going after him, Cousin Rob?" asked Beatrice,
sweetly.
He started at the sound of her voice, then looked full in her face
with no sign of recognition. Beatrice met his eyes squarely until he
turned on his heel and walked away, followed by a peal of light,
mocking laughter that cut into his heart like a knife.
"What's the matter between you and Rob?" asked the trader, curiously.
"Nothing," answered the girl, shrugging her shoulders; "but I was
amused a little while ago because he was so frightened--he was scared
almost to death."
Mackenzie's eyes glittered as he peered at her keenly from under his
bushy brows. "Don't say that again, my girl," he said, huskily, "for
fear doesn't run in the Forsyth blood. His grandfather was killed at
Lexington."
"A boat is coming," shouted a man from the blockhouse. Shortly
afterward, the fishing party came in, tired but triumphant, with a
long string of river fish. They had seen no Indians, and had not met
Ronald.
"Did you hear the gun?" asked the Captain.
"Yes, sir," replied one of the soldiers. "We were up on the North
Branch and thought it was a warning, so we laid low for a while. Then,
as we didn't hear anything more, we came on down as quietly as we
could."
"Everything all right at Lee's?" asked Lieutenant Howard.
"As far as we saw, sir."
Still there was uneasiness regarding the Ensign. Katherine was pale,
Mrs. Franklin was crying, and Beatrice had her small hands clenched
tightly together. Suddenly they all knew how much they should miss him
if----
Then there was a familiar whistle outside, the sentinel opened the
gate, and Ronald came in with a big black and white dog in his arms.
"I thought I heard him howling," he said, in answer to the torrent of
questions, "so I went on up to Lee's to get him. The devils have been
there all right,--the guns must have frightened them away.
"Yes," he continued in a low tone, in answer to a whispered question
from Howard; "White and Frenchy. White was shot and stabbed in the
breast and poor Frenchy was scalped--the whole top of his head lifted
off. The dog was guarding the body."
"What's that?" asked Mrs. Franklin, from the edge of the group where
all the women were standing together. "Speak louder--we can't hear."
The deep-toned bell tolled taps, and there was a general movement
toward quarters. "I was just talking about the dog," shouted Ronald to
the women.
"He fought me at first," he continued, addressing the Lieutenant
and the Doctor; "but I soon won his heart. Poor old boy," he said,
stroking the dog, "he didn't want to be made into a stew, did he?"
"We must go up to-morrow," said the Lieutenant.
"What are you going to call him?" asked the Doctor.
"Major, I guess--we haven't a major here."
Lieutenant Howard's white teeth showed in a sarcastic smile. "You
might call him 'Captain,'" he said, twisting his mustache, "for the
same good reason."