AN EXPLOIT OF PAT MULROONY'S.
During the captivity of Pat Mulroony and Virginia Lander, the Shawanoes
kept them sedulously apart. Although Pat ventured to address her
several times, he was compelled to do it in tones loud enough for all
to hear him, though whether they understood him or not was altogether a
different matter.
The Indians remained at their camp, where Waring had seen them through
the night. As he had supposed, the party had divided, one division
taking both the captives with them. The cause of this was, the
Shawanoes were upon the war-path, and the whole company, numbering
over twenty warriors, had set out to attack a small village belonging
to a hostile tribe. Having inflicted about all the injury that it was
possible for them to inflict against the whites, they were now anxious
to proceed with their expedition. As their prisoners could be nothing
more than an incumbrance to them, eight of their number were detailed
to conduct them to one of the Shawanoe towns in southern Ohio.
The separation of the Shawanoes was made early in the evening, and
before it was fairly light, the two parties were proceeding in the
direction of their respective destinations. The main party proceeded
down the river on the Kentucky side, while the eight Indians embarked
in separate canoes with their captives.
Six Indians were in one of the boats, and two in the other, excluding
the captives. It was intended that the two parties should keep company
to prevent any chance of escape by the burly Irishman, although in his
present helpless condition, bound and secured as he was, a boy could
have taken care of him without assistance.
The grey morning mist was just lifting from the Ohio, as the two canoes
shot out from the Kentucky shore, and sped swiftly down the river. The
point at which they intended to land upon the other side, was several
miles further down, bringing them considerably nearer their town than
a direct passage across the stream would have done. The Irishman, who
understood a few words of the Shawanoe tongue, had gathered this much
from the conversation of the savages before starting.
The two Indians who used the paddles were seated in the stern of the
canoe, scarcely a foot apart, while Virginia was near the centre, and
Pat Mulroony in the bow, his back being turned down stream, and his
face toward his captors. In this position, the captives were constantly
under the gaze of the lynx-eyed Shawanoes, and could not converse, even
in whispers, without being seen. Nevertheless, the Irishman had no
hesitation in attempting it.
"Miss Virginny, how is it ye faals jist now?"
"Sadly enough," she replied. "Our only hope is in Providence."
"If I only had my hands loose," whispered Pat, "I would smash them two
copper skins there in the stern, and run into shore, in spite of the
haythen in the other vissel."
"Perhaps they would loosen your hands if you requested them to do so."
"Begorrah! but they won't though."
"You might try it, Pat; make believe your bonds hurt you, and I have no
doubt they will loosen them."
After a moment's thought, Pat determined to try the artifice which
his fair companion had recommended. Accordingly he began groaning and
twisting his face into all manner of contortions, in order to enlist
their sympathy for his suffering. It was little sympathy the savages
felt for him, but his moans and struggles were so persistent and
annoying that the foremost Indian, with one blow of his knife, freed
his arms, refusing, however, all his entreaties to do the same thing
for his feet.
"Ugh! keep still--kill with knife--don't," said he, threateningly.
Pat Mulroony had succeeded far better than he had dared to hope. He
felt considerably elated thereby, and, rising up in his seat, commenced
"joking" with his grim captors.
"Ye handles them paddles as if yees was used to 'em. Be the same token,
maybe ye is. How is it?"
But the stoical Shawanoes deigned not to notice him, and Pat continued:
"Begorrah, but yer mothers must be proud of sich boys as yees, that is
if ye has ary mothers. Do you mind that haythen there in the starn,
Virginny? Wal, now, ef I had to make a guess about him, I should say he
was a cross between an Irish chimney swaap and a monkey from the South
Saas. It must be swate for a gal to be hugged by yees."
The canoes were now rather close to the Kentucky shore, and constantly
approaching nigher, although Pat Mulroony, who had his eyes about him,
was at a loss to conjecture the cause of this movement. The other canoe
was considerably in advance--its inmates finding it difficult to time
their velocity to the tardy movements of their two companions.
Of course the remarks of the Irishman were not comprehended by either
of the Shawanoes, although they now and then caught a word. But it was
easy to see from his pleasant eye, his broad grin, and the rollicking
expression of his face, that he was in the best of spirits. Despite
the stern, gloomy exterior of the foremost savage, there was a spice
of waggery in his composition, and his black, snake-like eyes softened
somewhat in expression as he looked upon the jovial Irishman.
"Paddle 'um canoe!" suddenly remarked this Indian, handing his paddle
to him.
"Of course I will," replied Pat, eagerly taking the proffered paddle.
He dipped it deep into the water, and attempted to make a powerful
sweep with it; but it turned in his hand, cutting through the water
like a knife, and with such velocity as nearly to throw him overboard.
Both savages laughed at his awkward movements, while the Irishman
worked all the harder.
"Get in the bow of the boat," he whispered to Virginia, as he kept hard
at work. The girl arose and exchanged places with him, the savages
looking upon her movement as a voluntary one upon her part, to be safe
from the erratic blows of the toiling captive. By and by these became
so amusing, that the remaining Shawanoe ceased working in order to
watch him.
There were three noticeable facts which entirely escaped the
observation of the savages. The first was that the other canoe was
a considerable distance in advance of them--much further than they
would have been willing to allow, had their attention been called
to it. The second was that a few hundred yards down stream, a large
creek put in from the Kentucky shore; and the last, and certainly most
important one, was that in spite of the awkward, vimless efforts of
the Irishman, the canoe was approaching slowly but surely the mouth of
this creek. The latter fact might possibly have been merely accidental,
but a suspicious observer would not have believed thus. Virginia, too,
noticed an expression in the eyes of Pat Mulroony, that made her heart
beat faster.
Nearer and nearer approached the canoe to the eddying mouth of the
creek. The Indians, grinning and unsuspicious, did not notice it until
they were fairly within it. Then one of them reached forward to take
the oar.
"Ugh! turn back!"
The Shawanoe suddenly dropped back, having received a stunning blow
upon the head from the heaviest end of the oar. So violent was it,
that, striking the edge of the canoe, he rolled over as helplessly as a
log.
"Begorrah, but I axes yer pardon!" exclaimed Pat, to the struggling
savage. "But I handles the paddle so awkwardly, that--holy virgin! if
I haven't hit the other haythen a crack, too, and he's gone overboard!
What's got into me paws?"
The second savage had sprang up, as his companion went into the water,
but, as quick as lightning, he dropped back in his seat, catching
the sides of the canoe so firmly, that he did not go out of it. The
Irishman's blows being "sidewinders,"--that is, on the side of the
head, their natural result was to send the recipients overboard, and
the Shawanoe in question saved himself so narrowly, that Pat was
mistaken in supposing that he was following his comrade.
"That was another awkward piece of business. Let me tip ye another
iligant whack with me shillaleh, in the true style of Pat Mulroony,
from Tipperary."
Ere the second blow caught the savage, he gave vent to a screeching
yell, loud enough to wake the dead. But it did not save him from
whisking over the canoe like a frog, and going down out of sight.
The first Indian had by this time arisen, and was endeavoring to climb
into the canoe. His hideous face, painted and agleam with the most
deadly ferocity, had appeared over the gunwale, and the frail vessel
was in momentary danger of coming apart or sinking.
"Go round to the starn, if ye wants to come in!" exclaimed Pat,
striking him a tremendous blow in the face with his fist, that quickly
loosened his hold. Dipping the paddle into the water, the Irishman now
plied it with a skill fully equal to that of the Shawanoes themselves,
sending it with a wonderful velocity directly up the creek.
But the second canoe had seen that something was wrong before the yell
of their unfortunate comrade had reached their ears, and they were
now fairly flying over the water, toward the captives. The Irishman,
with a coolness, and presence of mind that was remarkable under the
circumstances, seated himself in the stern, and keeping a sharp eye
upon either bank, sent his canoe swiftly up the creek, approaching
closely to neither shore.
He had calculated to a second almost, the instant when the pursuing
Indians would arrive at the mouth of the creek, and consequently, how
long he might ascend it without danger of discovery. Virginia, who kept
her gaze fixed toward the river, announced that the two Indians had
swam to the mainland, and were evidently awaiting the approach of their
companions.
It was the intention of the Irishman, when he had ascended as far as he
durst, to sheer the canoe under the right bank, which, fortunately for
him, was protected by dense, overhanging undergrowth, and concealing
his vessel as well as circumstances would permit, to hurry into the
woods; but at the moment he dipped his paddle for the purpose of doing
so, he made a discovery which induced him to change his mind.
But a comparatively short distance from the Ohio, the creek divided
into four narrow branches, scarcely more than three or four yards in
width. Believing that the Indians would have no means of learning the
course he had followed, he shot the canoe into the lower one of these,
and the next minute had disappeared from view.
The fugitives ascended this branch of the creek for a furlong, when it
became so narrow and rapid, that the expenditure of labor was too great
to pay them for going further by this means of locomotion. Touching the
shore, Virginia sprang out, the Irishman followed, pulling the canoe
after him, and rearranging the bushes behind, so as to disarm their
pursuers of any suspicion, should they follow as high up the branch as
this point.
Determined that the canoe, if discovered, should afford them no good,
Pat Mulroony turned it over, and springing upon the bottom, inflicted
an irreparable injury, by staving it in.
"Come on, me leddy," said he to Virginia, "and when ye mates Mister
Waring, ye can tell him that Pat Mulroony hails from Tipperary, and can
taach him how to use the shillaleh."
An hour or so later, they reached a spot in the forest, which, pleasing
the fancy of the Irishman, he ordered a halt, for the purpose of
resting themselves. Declaring that Virginia must be cold, in spite
of her protestations to the contrary, he persisted in kindling a
fire, which had been burning but a short time, when Waring made his
appearance, as we have already related.
"And now, about how far off is that settlement?" asked Pat Mulroony, at
the conclusion of his narration.
"It cannot certainly be over eight or ten miles, at the most, as we
have been proceeding toward it all the while. We surely ought to be
able to reach it in a few hours."
"And what is there to hinder us from starting this minute? The owld man
is dead--hoping the leddy will excuse me--and that long-legged Hezekiah
has give up the ghost, and we're all that is left of the party which
was on the flat-boat a few days since. Bein' we're all here, I makes
the move that we starts at once, and have this blatherin' matter done
wid at once."
"There is only one thing that troubles me," said Waring. "I am afraid
that a number of those Shawanoes are in the vicinity, and if we venture
out, we run too great a risk of being seen."
"Begorrah, but how are we going to manage it after all?" queried the
Irishman, with great surprise.
"Wait until darkness, when we will run little chance of being seen by
those who are evidently watching for us."
"And how will we find the way to the village, if you've no objection
to tell, as that long-legged Hezekiah used to say, when he asked a
question of us."
"Easily enough by following the river. As the settlement is upon the
banks of the Ohio, we surely shall discover it if we do not stray off
into the woods."
"Begorrah, but that's the plan fur yees."
It was decided that the best course was for them to be on the move
at once, provided they could do so without incurring any additional
danger. The way to the river appeared to be the least frequented by
their foes and his plan was to approach this as near as convenient,
and follow closely its bank, keeping carefully under the cover of the
shrubbery and dense undergrowth.
The river could be reached in half an hour at least, provided no
unexpected obstacle should present itself, and, with Waring taking the
lead, the three set out.
The gallant guide could not restrain his misgivings, as he cautiously
stole through the woods, and, more than once, he debated with himself
whether it was not best to turn back, and wait for the cover of
darkness before attempting to reach the settlement.
They had gone scarcely half the distance, when a paint-bedaubed
Shawanoe was discerned coming toward them. Signalling to those behind
him, Waring sank down to the ground, and, clutching the handle of his
knife, breathlessly awaited his approach.
The head of the savage was bent, as though he was searching the ground
for something, and he was walking slowly, little dreaming that the very
ones he was so anxious to discover, were so nigh him. As fortunately,
indeed for himself, as for the whites, he changed his direction, and,
in a few moments, was out of sight.
The fugitives resumed their painfully laborious flight, and finally
reached the river bank, rejoiced enough that, as yet, their enemies
had learned nothing of their whereabouts. Here, underneath the almost
impervious undergrowth, they felt more at ease than they had since they
had been joined by Waring.
"What time might it be?" asked the Irishman.
"Near the middle of the afternoon--if not later."
"We'll stay here then until night. What say ye?"
The proposal of Pat Mulroony coincided with what Waring deemed best
for the party, and accordingly, it was determined to remain in their
present position until night closed around them.
The few hours that yet remained ere the protecting darkness could come,
were hours of the most painful suspense to the fugitives. Neither
of them hardly dared to stir from his hiding-place, and when they
conversed, it was only in the whispered words of fear.
It may well be a question, whether the Shawanoes were really searching
for the whites, for it seemed barely possible that if such were the
case, they could have helped finding the trail. It was more probable
that the Indians had moved to this portion of the wood, and, those of
their number who had been seen, were only wandering hither and thither,
without any ostensible object.
Be that as it may, the sun was still in the heavens, when the sharp
ears of Virginia Lander caught the sound of a footstep near them.
Touching Waring on the shoulder, she communicated the startling fact to
him, and he admonished the Irishman to maintain a strict silence.
It was soon evident that an Indian was close at hand, and that he was
between the fugitives and the river--a position in which it was barely
possible for him to pass them, without both parties discovering each
other. It was manifest too, from the carelessness with which he was
proceeding, that he had no suspicion of the proximity of the whites.
Soon, the form of the Shawanoe was discerned through the intricacies
of the bushes, and the fugitives, sinking down to the earth, kept
their eyes intently fixed upon him. From his manner, it was plain he
was searching for something, although whether that something was our
friends or some other object, they had no means of determining. He kept
his head down most of the time, occasionally looking up with a puzzled,
curious expression, at which time, so close was he, that the black
pupils of his basilisk eyes were plainly visible to the whites.
A remarkable fact in regard to this Indian was, that he had no rifle
with him, and nothing except a knife carried in his girdle. This,
however, did not make him a less dangerous personage to the fugitives,
should they be discovered. A single yell from him would bring a horde
of the redskins upon them before even they could extricate themselves
from the bushes which sheltered them.
What pen shall describe the emotions of the fugitives as they saw the
Shawanoe lower his eyes, and gaze straight through the bushes at
them--so straight, in fact, that Waring, who was nearest the river,
felt confident that he was looking directly at him.
Still, he uttered no sound, and gave no evidence that he had discovered
anything unusual in the undergrowth before him, although Waring could
not comprehend how such could be the case, for the gaze of the Indian
was fixed steady and penetrating.
Suddenly, the young man heard a movement behind him. He dared not turn
his head, but he suspected the meaning of it. It was soon explained by
the barrel of the Irishman's rifle appearing beside him. "Whist, till I
blow the haythen to the divil!" he whispered, as he cocked it. Waring
would not run the risk of reply; his words might be heard by other ears
than those for which they were intended. He placed the muzzle of the
gun against his side, and held it there firmly, so that it could not
be discharged without killing him. Pat Mulroony understood this mute
appeal, and relinquished his intention of shooting the savage.
All at once, the Shawanoe gave forth a guttural "Ugh!" and approached
the fugitives. Pat tugged at the rifle, but Waring would not loosen
his grasp. Just as he was about to do so, under the belief that the
critical moment had arrived, the Indian stopped and drew something from
the bushes. Relief unspeakable! it was a canoe, and the whites still
remained undiscovered.
Picking the frail vessel bodily from the ground, the Shawanoe carried
it to the water's edge, when, depositing it in the water, he seated
himself in it, and paddled away.
"That Indian had the narrowest escape of his life!" remarked Waring,
when he had gone.
"Ye spake the truth there," added Pat Mulroony, "and be the same token,
ye had the same narry 'scape yerself. I was on the p'int of aiming at
the haythen several times _through you_, and letting daylight through
ye both."
Virginia looked horror-struck at the words of the Irishman, noticing
which, he whispered to her, (so loud, however, that Waring also caught
the words:)
"It's only a joke, me leddy; I wouldn't hit the spalpeen, to save his
neck."
In the course of an hour or so, it began to grow dark, and the
fugitives impatiently awaited the time when they could move from their
hiding-place. With the exception of the Indian mentioned, they saw
nothing of their enemies, although they occasionally heard a whoop or
halloo in the woods from them.
The sky, which, up to noon had been clear and propitious, had become,
since then, darkened and overcast, and gave every sign of a coming
storm. Black, threatening clouds were sweeping tumultuously across the
heavens, and piling up in huge masses in the far-off horizon, where
they towered like the walls of some old unbattled castle, around whose
ramparts the serpentine lightning quivered like streams of blood. Faint
murmurings of thunder were constantly borne upon the air, and the
roaring of the wind in the forest sounded like the distant ocean.
The darkness came on earlier than usual, thus hastened by the
marshaling of the storm-king's forces, and the three fugitives stole
from the bushes, and commenced their journey toward the settlement.
The progress of the whites was necessarily slow, from the caution
exercised. For a considerable distance Waring led the way, when he
yielded to the earnest solicitation of Pat Mulroony, and allowed him to
take the advance, while he fell behind, and joined Virginia.
"Keep up courage," he whispered to her. "We will soon be where we shall
have fewer obstacles to oppose us."
"I am not tired," she replied. "Do not feel any anxiety upon my
account."
The darkness had increased rapidly, and the whites began to take less
care as they moved along. Quite a strong wind came up the river, and
now and then, the flashes of lightning were vivid enough to reveal the
shore and stream to them, so that they were guided in a great measure
by this means.
Waring was moving along, holding the hand of Virginia in his own, when
he suddenly encountered the Irishman, who had stopped walking. He was
about to demand the meaning of his acting thus, when he turned his
head, and whispered--
"Whist! I saan something then."
"In what form did it appear?"
"Look straight over me shoulder, and when the lightning shows itself
agin, tell me what ye saas."
Waring did as requested. The lightning was incessant, but not sharp
enough to reveal the object that had attracted the notice of his
companion. All at once, however, a bright flame blazed out, and he saw,
but a rod or two away, an Indian seated in a canoe. The canoe lay close
under the bank, and the savage was seated in the stern, with his back
toward the whites, and, from his appearance, was evidently waiting for
some one.
Waring felt sure that he was the Shawanoe that had caused them so much
alarm, and that, from his presence in this quarter, it was pretty
certain his companions were not far distant. While debating with
himself upon the best course for him safely to pass him, he felt the
Irishman moving away from him.
"What do you intend to do?" he asked, as he arrested him.
"Get that same canoe."
"Get that canoe? What do you mean? How are you going to do it?"
"Let me alone for that. I'll upset the haythen."
"His friends may be closer at hand than you think."
"Divil a bit does I care how close they be. I'll settle this matter
with him."
"Well, go on, but be careful."
The great convenience and advantage the canoe would be to the whites,
decided Waring to let the Irishman make an effort to gain possession of
it.
Having warned him of the danger he ran, he trusted he had sense enough
to use all caution possible in the case. Nevertheless, it was with some
misgivings that he saw him glide away and disappear in the darkness.
The flash of lightning which had revealed the solitary Indian to the
Irishman, had brought his appearance and situation so vividly to his
sight, that he could constantly see him, and felt as much assurance in
moving toward him as if it were broad daylight.
Step by step he approached, literally feeling every inch of the way,
for a single misstep would prove fatal. The snapping of a twig, a slip
of his foot in the water, and the vigilant Indian would be on his guard.
Closer and closer approached the Irishman, until he had gained the
proper point. Then straightening himself up, he drew back his ponderous
fist, and concentrating all his strength, gave him a blow that sent him
heels over head out into the water.
"That's what I call a gentle hint fur yees to l'ave."
A few moments later, the party were in the boat, and gliding rapidly
with the current.
After floating a few moments in silence, Waring said--
"You and Hezekiah never knew each other until a few days since, I
believe."
"No; nor we don't know each other yit."
"He was a singular character, too--odd and eccentric; but as true and
faithful as steel. He made a terrible fight before he gave up to those
savages. It seems as though I am partly responsible for his death."
"Hallo!" exclaimed the Irishman. "Look yonder jist!"
As he spoke, he pointed down stream. The canoe had just rounded a bend
in the river, and a large camp-fire was visible upon the Kentucky side.
It was so large and vigorous, that its light was thrown clear across
upon the other bank, the surface of the water glistening like silver.
Through this broad band of light, it was necessary, of course, that the
fugitives pass, and run a second risk of discovery.
The lightning had almost ceased, but a strong wind was blowing, and
the huge flame of the camp-fire could be seen surging to and fro, like
the waves of a tempest-tossed sea. Dark figures now and then passed
between it and the river, and their huge, grotesque shadows quivered on
the surface, like monstrous phantoms.
Slowly and noiselessly, the canoe drifted into the broad belt of light,
and the fugitives almost held their breath.
The eyes of Waring and Pat Mulroony were naturally fixed upon the
camp-fire and its surroundings, but, from some cause which she could
never explain, Virginia felt an apprehension, which amounted to a
certainty, that all was not right upon the bank which was so near to
them, and she kept her gaze fixed in that direction.
And while thus looking, she discovered, plainly and distinctly, the
form of a tall Indian, standing upon the very edge of the river,
seemingly intent upon watching the canoe. He did not move, or make any
demonstration toward its occupants, and remained perfectly motionless
until he had faded out of sight in the darkness.
As the fugitives reached the protecting darkness again, confident that
they had not been discovered, Waring drew a sigh of relief, and said:
"We need have no fear now. That fire has never been started by the
Shawanoes with the intention of receiving any assistance from it in
recapturing us. I think I may safely say we are out of all danger."
"I feel so relieved," said Virginia. "It seems as though I had suffered
a hundred deaths since that dreadful night. How soon may we expect to
reach the settlement, Luther?"
"I cannot tell you precisely, but in three hours, I should say, at the
furthest. What do you think, Pat?"
"Never having been in this region, I find it rather difficult to answer
your question, as the minister said, when the old woman axed him how
Jonah felt in the whale's belly."
"I forgot; you told me that before. However, I cannot be far out of the
way in my guess."
"Is it not singular, Luther, that, if we are so close to the village,
these Indians also should be?"
"Not at all. I have no doubt that there are hundreds within half a mile
of it. On an exposed frontier it is always thus. Without good defences,
brave hearts, and trusty rifles, such a place would not be safe from
destruction for a single hour."
"Whisht!" interrupted the Irishman. "If I didn't hear the tramp of one
of the haythens on shore, I'll never tip another shillaleh!"
"I heard it, too--the snapping of a twig," added Virginia.
"The same, jist--one of the dogs is follying us."
"That is not probable. What could he gain by such a course?"
"Larn the way to that sittlement of which yees were spaking."
"I should not wonder if Pat were right," said Virginia. "I have heard
evidence of his presence several times."
"Let us listen. The wind may have made all the sounds you have heard."
For the space of fifteen or twenty minutes, the whites maintained
silence, but there was nothing heard farther, and they fell to
conversing again.
The situation of our friends, although not without the grand comforter,
hope, was still gloomy and impressive. On either hand, the dark,
frowning forests loomed up and the wind sighing through them, made
wildly-mournful music--now roaring like a hurricane, and then dying
away in a hollow, desolate moaning. Occasionally the sharp scream of
some wild animal was borne forward upon the night wind, and once or
twice the reports of rifles showed that the Indian, the far wilder
animal of the two, was "abroad upon the night."
The wind raised small waves upon the surface of the river, and they
rippled along the shore, and around the projecting roots of the trees
that grew upon the banks. Even their own voices sounded differently
upon this wild night. But they were sustained by the prospect of
speedy deliverance and shelter, and were more hopeful than they had
been since their first memorable disaster.
In the course of half an hour the river made another bend, and the wind
now blew directly up stream. The onward motion of the canoe grew less
and less, and finally it stopped altogether.
"This will never do," said Waring, when he had satisfied himself how
matters stood. "It will be a long while before we reach the settlement
at this rate."
"Let's put into shore, and scare up some kind of paddle for each of us
to go to work with."
"I am afraid that we could not accomplish much, Pat; the only course is
for us to land, and make the rest of the journey on foot? Do you feel
able to walk a mile or two, Virginia?"
"Walk a mile or two?" she repeated, "if necessary, a dozen of them,
when cheered by the hope that animates us!"
"A noble girl! Help me in with the canoe, then, Pat."
Using their hands vigorously, as they had done once or twice before,
the boat gradually approached the shore, until it had run in under the
limb of a tree, which was seized by Pat, and held while the other two
disembarked. Then kicking the canoe from beneath him, the Irishman also
sprang to land, and stood among his friends.
"Shall we kape close in the wather, or off from it always?" he asked.
"The undergrowth seems to be the densest by the river, and as I see no
need of remaining by it, we will go further into the woods, where it
will be less difficult to walk."
Accordingly the three moved further away, where the wood was more
open, and for some time they encountered little obstruction in their
journeying. The Irishman, as usual, brought up the rear, now and then
giving vent to some original remark, and occasionally indulging in
snatches of song.
Waring was about to speak to his companion, when he felt her grasp his
arm with incredible power, and startled nearly out of his senses, he
turned toward her:
"What's the matter, Virginia?" he asked.
"Oh!" she gasped in a tremor "I saw that Indian just now."
"Where?"
"Here, right beside me."
"Did you see him, Pat?" asked Waring, grasping his rifle, and peering
round in the darkness.
"No, but I heard the hay----"
"There! there he is again!" she interrupted, pointing in front of them.
Waring caught a glimpse of a dark form, and ere he could precisely
locate it, he saw Pal Mulroony bound forward like a ball, and the next
instant the two were grappled together in a hand-to-hand struggle.
The impetuous onslaught of the Irishman was irresistible, and he bore
his opponent to the ground, and seated himself astride of him. Whipping
out his knife, he fairly shrieked:
"Say yer prayers quick, for you've got only a second and a half to say
'em in!"
"If you've no objection, I should like to know why ye can't give a
little longer time?" asked the familiar, whining voice of Hezekiah
Smith!