THE HIDING-PLACE.
Twenty minutes or more was consumed by Worrell, in conducting the
fugitives to the hiding-place, where he promised they should be secure
from all molestation from their enemies. In making this journey they
walked slowly, often pausing to examine the ground passed over, and to
listen for those unfavorable signals which the straggling settler was
sure he heard from the Iroquois. Thus it was that, in spite of the time
consumed in making the expedition, they were really at no great distance
from the starting point, and both Ned and Jo were confident that they
could retrace their steps without difficulty.
"Here we are!"
As the guide uttered these words, he paused before a mass of boulders,
or large stones, where there was an abundance of undergrowth, and the
trees were so numerous that the view in all directions was almost cut
off.
"I see we are here," responded Ned. "But what for?"
"Here is the hiding-place I told you about."
"Where?"
All three were looking inquiringly around, but their eyes saw nothing
that could explain why the man called this a place of concealment.
"Do you mean that we are to crouch behind some of these stones, just as
you did behind the rock, when you found I was looking at you?" asked Ned
Clinton, with a laugh.
"Not exactly. Wait and I'll show you."
He walked forward a few steps further and turned to the right,
approaching a large stone that looked heavy enough to require the
strength of a Hercules to stir it. Nevertheless, with one hand he turned
it aside, it being so nicely poised that there was no trouble in using
it as a door on hinges. Drawn back, the astonished whites saw the
entrance to a cave beyond. The indications were that, at some remote
time, the stones had been placed in position by a party of aborigines of
the country, and used by them as a retreat or dwelling.
"It is the very place," said Rosa; "for I have been inside."
"You? When?" asked her brother.
"Lena-Wingo brought me here one day last fall, when we were caught in a
storm in these mountains!"
"What kind of a place is it?"
"There could be no better one for us. I thought of it this morning, and
spoke to Lena-Wingo about it."
"What did he say?"
"He replied that he would probably take us here, if he found we had to
keep out of sight for awhile."
"That is well, then. Mr. Worrell has done for us what the Mohawk meant
to do later in the day."
"I don't know that I would not have proposed to you that we should come
here after he left, if I had been sure of finding my way, but I wasn't."
"Is the interior comfortable?"
"It is in warm weather, for none of the sun's rays can enter, and the
stones seem to give it coolness."
"As dark as a wolf's mouth, I suppose?"
"Not at all. There are several windows, made by crevices between the
stones, which let in enough light to help us see where we are."
"The young lady speaks the truth," said Worrell. "She has been in and
remembers all about it."
"How came you to find it when it is so well concealed?"
"I was hunting a bear in these mountains some two years ago and wounded
him, when he started to retreat. I followed him as fast as I could, when
he put straight for this heap of stones, and he would have got away if I
hadn't come in sight just in time to see him pull that door aside with
one paw and start in. I gave him a shot as he was doing so, and it
finished him before he could get out of my reach."
The reports of the cavern being so favorable, the fugitives were glad to
avail themselves of its shelter without further delay. Ned Clinton was
the first to explore the retreat, he being obliged to assume a stooping
position to enter it. As soon as he was inside, he called to the others
to follow, and Worrell himself obeyed, Jo going next, while Rosa came
last.
The place was not a disappointment in the least when viewed from the
inside. The windows of which Rosa spoke proved sufficient to give all
the light they could ask, and more than the young scouts expected to
see. Besides, when they were fairly within it was noticed that the roof
ascended, while the floor was lowered to that extent that they could
easily stand at their full height--a luxury which any one in their
situation would have appreciated. It was dry, and there was nothing to
make them uncomfortable. Expressions of delight came from all, excepting
him who had taken them to the retreat. He seemed to enjoy listening to
the praise bestowed upon his choice.
"Ah! if some of the poor fellows who were fleeing from Monacacy and the
woods, after the battle," said Ned, "could have stumbled upon this they
would have been safe."
"And even if they had been seen," added Jo, "they could have turned it
into a fort itself, and held out against ten times their number."
"Then why can we not make the same use of it?" asked Rosa. "It will
serve us if Colonel Butler happens to discover where we are hid."
"He isn't going to discover us," put in Worrell, with a confidence which
gave the youths greater faith in their safety than before; but which,
strange to say, impressed Rosa in the opposite manner.
It was the manner rather than the words that grated on her
sensibilities, and she found her old mistrust of the man deeper than
before. It struck her that he was too ready to declare they were now
beyond the reach of Colonel Butler and his men. It was like parrying a
blow before it was struck, though the young men readily saw in the words
which called out the remark sufficient cause for the same. With this
suspicion came a conviction that, despite the critical position in which
they seemed to be placed, when awaiting the return of the Mohawk, they
had committed a perilous blunder in leaving the spot where he would
expect to find them.
"I said there was no danger of our being discovered by Colonel Butler or
any of his men; but maybe that was putting it too strong, for I suppose
that we are always in danger as long as them redskins are within a dozen
miles of us; but what I meant to say was, that there ain't any spot
anywhere among these mountains where you can feel safer from the enemy
than here."
This is what he ought to have said in the first place, as it seemed to
Rosa, and yet the after effect of the words was almost as if they had
been uttered at the right time. A strange compound is that which goes to
make up the emotions of man and woman; for with the expression just
given, Rosa Minturn experienced something like a revulsion of feeling,
and reproved herself that she should have suspected the man at all. She
saw in him nothing but a simple-minded hunter-settler, who was a
fugitive for the time being like themselves, and was anxious to befriend
them to the best of his ability. The most circumspect and devoted ally
would have acted as he did. Because he was dressed in rather shabby
attire, and was unattractive in person, should she doubt his loyalty?
Had she not lived long enough to learn that "the rank is but a guinea's
stamp," and that, though repulsive without, he might be "a man for a'
that?"