CHAPTER XXII.

With the body of the Seneca covered by the rifle of Mr. Brainerd the

latter pulled the trigger, at the very moment the body was in mid-air,

but the gun was undischarged.

Habakkuk McEwen, in his flurry, had rammed down the bullet first, and

the weapon was useless until the ball was extracted.

Where the elder had shown such vigilance, it was singular that he had

forgotten to take a very simple precaution--he should have had the

African or New Englander covering the same point, and arranged that one

should fire with him.

The intervening space was so brief there was no excuse for missing, and

such a catastrophe could have been averted.

But though Mr. Brainerd's piece failed him, the second Indian emitted

the same shriek, and went sprawling to the bottom, shot directly through

the body.

"What the mischief have you done with my gun?" demanded Mr. Brainerd,

flinging the weapon behind him; "let me have the one in your hand;

there's something wrong with mine; draw out the charge and fix it."

"My gracious!" exclaimed the astounded Gimp, "what does _dat_ mean?"

"What does _what_ mean?"

"Why did dat Injin turn back summersets, and whoop it up in dat style,

when your gun flashed in de pan?"

"_Somebody_ shot him."

"But who was he?"

Mr. Brainerd made no reply, for he had none to make. Some unknown friend

had fired the second shot, that prevented the warrior obtaining a

foothold where it would have been fatal to the whites.

As to the identity of the friend, that could not be guessed.

The explanation upon which all agreed was, that some other settlers--one

or more--had taken shelter somewhere in the vicinity, and had fired,

either as a matter of self-protection, or for the benefit of those in

the cavern.

Precisely how it should become necessary for some one to shoot the

warrior, as a means of defense, was more than could be explained.

Another strange fact about it was, that Maggie Brainerd and Aunt Peggy

insisted that, instead of being discharged from some point beyond and on

the other side of the rocks, the marksman was perched directly over the

heads of those in the cavern.

Where there were so many boulders and trees, the short echoes might well

produce confusion, but the two ladies were positive that the man was

immediately above them.

Gravity Gimp was inclined to the same opinion, and Mr. Brainerd was

puzzled more than ever.

"I not only heard the gun," said Maggie, with great positiveness, "but I

heard the man himself moving up there."

"That is impossible, my daughter," protested her father, feeling it had

now become safe, for the first time, to relax his vigilance.

"Not at all," she replied, "you can hear plainly through a solid

substance, and I caught a sound made by that man's shoe scraping over

the rocks."

It was scarcely credible, and yet, knowing Maggie for the clear-headed

girl that she was, her father could not doubt her assertion.

It was a vast relief to discover they had such an ally so close at hand,

though there remained the element of doubt as to how much further his

help would extend.

Twilight was ended at last, and the solemn night brooded over the scene.

"Better to be shot to the death here where we are," was the thought of

Mr. Brainerd, "than to fall into their hands, and such shall be our

fate, if it comes to a choice between the two."

But for all that, the conviction was strong upon him that the only

possible hope for him and his dear ones was to get them all out of that

place, and well on the way through the "Shades of Death," before the

rising of the morrow's sun.

They could not leave during the daytime, when, under the full glare of

the noonday sun, and with such leisure at their command, the Indians

would find some way of intrenching themselves behind the column of

rocks, without being exposed to the fire of the sentinel or sentinels,

as the case might be.

Besides this, it was hardly to be expected that the unknown friend would

be able to hold his own position in the daytime.

But how to leave the spot was the all-important question.

It would not do to move up the path by the way they came, for, even with

the protecting shadow, they would be seen and would walk into the web,

like so many flies.

As the path ended at the front of the cavern, no progress could be made

in that direction, but the patriot believed that by picking his way down

the rocks to the bottom of the ravine, as he was certain could be done,

some new route might be opened.

It was necessary, however, to make a reconnoissance before venturing

forth. Who was the right person to do it?

Beyond question, Habakkuk McEwen was the man.

"See here," said Mr. Brainerd, coming to the point at once, as was his

custom, "it may as well be understood that if we remain until the sun

rises there will be no hope of our ever getting away."

Perfect silence followed this remark, and waiting only long enough for

it to produce its effect, he added:

"Some one must steal out of the cavern, and learn whether any path is

open by which we can get away. I would not hesitate to go, but our

safety depends on guarding this point, where one of them may appear.

Gravity is too slow, and I must therefore request you, Habakkuk, to act

as our scout."

"Well, well!" exclaimed the startled man. "It'll never do for _me_ to go

down among the Injins."

"You needn't go down among them--but are to make sure whether there is a

chance for us to steal away, under the protection of the shadow which

now incloses us."

"I'd like to oblige you, but it won't do--why," he added, starting up

with the idea, "it always makes me dizzy to go prowling around in the

moonlight. I'd be sure to fall over the rocks and break my leg, and

then how would you feel?"

"Sorry because it wasn't your neck," retorted Mr. Brainerd, who

concluded that the man was not such a re-enforcement after all, as he

appeared from his own account to be; "your presence with us is an

incumbrance, and I should be highly gratified if you would depart and

never show yourself again. I will go myself."

He called to Gravity to take his place as sentinel, with his gun pointed

out where the foe was likely to appear, but Eva, Maggie, and Aunt Peggy

would not permit any such course.

The father had gone to the verge of endurance during the day. He was

past fifty, quite bulky in figure, and about the only qualification he

possessed for the self-appointed task, was his courage.

The three compelled the old gentleman to yield, and Maggie, with the

shrewdness natural to her sex, turned to Habakkuk, who was standing at

one side, and laying her pretty hand on his shoulder, said:

"Habakkuk, you think a good deal of me, don't you?"

He held off a second or so, while she turned her winsome face up to his

in the gloom. He meant to sulk and compel her to coax him, but his heart

gave a big jump at the touch of that hand, and, when he was able to see

very faintly that countenance so close to his own, it was more than he

or any sensible person could stand.

His face suddenly expanded into an all-embracing grin, and he made

answer:

"Think a good deal of you, Maggie, you dear, sweet, angelic angel. Why,

I worship the ground you walk on; all I came here for was to see you. I

don't care a blamed cent for the others."

"If you think so much of me, then, won't you take some risk for my sake,

as well as that of the others?"

"Of course I will; it will delight me--"

"Then do as father requested you."

"And go prowling outside among the Indians and Tories?"

"Of course."

"I'll be hanged if I will!" was the response, as Habakkuk stepped back;

"a chap hain't got but one life, and if I should lose that, what good

would I ever be to myself or any one else? You wouldn't be able to

become my bride."

"But it will be dangerous to stay here, and if you go out and be careful

it may be the means of saving us all."

"I tell you, dear Maggie, I would do so if it wasn't because I know I

would become dizzy; it would be sure to come on me; I feel it coming on

me now--there! catch me--hold me--"

He staggered toward her, throwing out his arms, and trying to measure

the distance so as to fling his grasp about her, but she stepped back,

and he went to the ground.

"Keep away from me!" she said, disdainfully; "if there is any creature

in this world which I despise, it is that person who speaks a falsehood

to escape duty."

"You'll be sorry for this some day, dear Maggie."

She stamped her foot so angrily, and her father showed such a

disposition to interfere, that he checked himself.

"I don't see why I ain't de gemman after all dat's to do dis thing,"

said Gravity.

Habakkuk McEwen slapped him on his broad shoulder.

"The idee exactly! one reason why I thought best to decline--though I

didn't say so--was through the fear of hurting your feelings, Gravity--"

"Dat needn't trouble you; you kin go now, and I won't feel slighted."

"You've an advantage over us all, for you're so black that wherever you

go you will carry the darkness with you, and the Injins will see nothing

but so much shadow gliding along."

"Dat may all be, but s'pose dey should take a notion to fling their

tomahawks into de shadder, what will become ob _dis_ person?"

"If you are careful, you won't be hurt; if it wasn't for my weakness of

dizziness, I would jump at the chance--"

"If I hear anymore such stuff," interrupted Mr. Brainerd, "I'll pitch

you neck and heels out of here."

"Then I guess you won't hear any more," was the prudent thought of

Habakkuk.

As the African was so willing to go, it was decided to permit him to

make the attempt.

The head of the party based little hope on the venture of his servant,

and indeed doubted whether they would ever see him again, but, for that

matter, there was little choice between the situation of any one or two

of them.

Calling Gravity to him, his employer said:

"You show a great deal more courage and manliness than most of your

acquaintances give you credit for. I can only tell you to do your best,

as you always do."

"How shall I got away widout being seed?"

"That's the trouble, but you know this side of the ravine is in deep

shadow, and I think if you move slowly up the footpath we followed in

coming here, you won't be seen."

"Dat's jis what I'll do, den--good-bye." And before any one suspected

it, the African was gone.

As the faithful fellow was running such risk, Mr. Brainerd crept

forward, and with some danger to himself thrust his head and shoulders

out, so as to watch the actions of his servant.

Gimp assumed a crouching posture, and began moving up the narrow,

sloping path like the shadow that creeps over the face of the dial.

"I wonder whether it is possible to see him," the elder one asked

himself, with a pang of fear, as he looked across the brief intervening

space; "it hardly seems credible that they would leave the door wide

open in that manner."

But speculation was useless: Gimp was outside the cavern, and if really

detected by the watchful red men, he was beyond help.

Mr. Brainerd could hear the rustling of the African's body as he slowly

glided along, often loosening the dirt and gravel with his hands and

knees, and sending it rolling down toward the mouth of the cavern, but

there came no sign from the rocks beyond, where it was believed the main

body of their enemies was gathered.

Like a huge turtle the bulky negro climbed the steep path, until his

outlines were lost in the gloom as he neared the top, and his master

drew back into the cavern and wondered what it could mean.

If a man could walk from the cavern in that fashion, why might not the

entire party, one after the other, file out in the same manner?

This was a natural question, but the settler was too wise to believe the

attempt was feasible.

There would be nothing extraordinary in the fugitives' going to the top

of the path without molestation, but it would be absurd to suppose they

could walk off into the woods undisturbed, when such a vigilant foe was

in watch for them.

The American Indian does not prosecute his warfare in that fashion.

Wyoming · 第 22 / 52 章