DUSKY DICK'S FIRST BLOW.
John Stevens felt not a little concern as he strode along the
grass-grown trail that Fred Wilson had so lately traversed. The
discovery made by the latter was truly a momentous one, and if true,
the danger impending was one that would require all their skill and
courage to avert.
He thought of the gentle Annie being exposed to all the horrors of an
Indian attack, and wild visions of daring deeds and heroic struggles in
her behalf flashed across his mind. He felt that he could accomplish
all these, for _her_ sake.
And, in good truth, these fancies possessed his mind so greatly that
he forgot a greater portion of necessary prudence, striding along as
if in the utmost security, as though fully assured that there was not
an enemy within a hundred miles of his present location. But he was
speedily awakened from his abstraction.
A dark form suddenly sprung out before him, with leveled rifle-muzzle
threatening him. As his eyes fell upon the intruder, John fancied he
recognized the figure.
"Is that you, Dusky Dick?" he called out, halting and half-raising his
rifle.
"Keep your gun down--don't offer to shoot, or I'll plug ye! Yes, it's
me. But who the devil are _you_?" returned the man.
"Stevens--John Stevens, you know," laughed the young settler. "Why,
who'd you take me for?"
"Fer a Injun. They're 'round at thar tricks, I b'lieve. But whar are
you goin'?"
"Over to Wilson's--why?"
"Oh, nothin'--I didn't know. Folks all well at home?"
"Yes, all well; that is, all of our own. But there is a lame Indian
there, who hurt himself somehow, while out hunting, I believe. You know
him--Bob-tailed Horse?" added John, the better to allay any suspicions
the other might have entertained.
"Yes; a drunken dog. Mind out or he'll sarve you some dirty trick, yet.
Wal, if you're goin' to Wilson's, I won't hinder you no more. Jest give
them my respects, will you?" and Dusky Dick stepped to one side of the
path.
But, as he did so, John noted an evil glitter in his eyes as the
moonlight fell upon the renegade's countenance, through a rift in the
tree-tops. Stevens realized that Dusky Dick meant mischief.
"All right--I'll tell 'em," and the young settler strode lightly past
the man.
He saw the heavy rifle of the desperado raise and sweep through the
air, wielded by strong arms, evidently aimed at his head. But Stevens
ducked adroitly, and the weapon hissed harmlessly above his head, the
force of the unresisted blow swinging Dusky Dick around almost against
him.
With an angry cry, Stevens whirled his rifle around, its iron barrel
alighting full upon the traitor's head, felling him to the ground like
a dead man. But still a little cry broke from his lips.
Instantly all around was confusion, and the young settler shuddered
involuntarily at the terrible commotion he had aroused. Wild yells
filled the air until it sounded as though scores of devils had broken
loose upon earth, all thirsting for human blood.
Stevens knew his danger, and realized the full extent of his
peril--that he had fallen into an ambush of red-skins of whom Dusky
Dick was either a member, or else a chief. And he knew too that he
would be put to his best, if he escaped the threatened capture.
He had not alone to think of himself, either. The fate of more than one
probably depended upon the speedy accomplishment of his errand. He must
warn the Wilson family of their danger.
Uttering a low cry, John crouched down, and, summoning all his powers,
sprung with headlong force along the path, that he could see now
contained one or more of his enemies. But it was the only road for him
now. He knew that he would not stand the faintest chance of success,
in a run at night through the forest, with the well-trained and
fleet-footed Indians for competitors.
He leaped forcibly against the foremost Indian, hurling him breathless
to the ground, without receiving any particular harm himself. But
there another confronted him, with uplifted hatchet gleaming in the
moonlight, only a few feet distant.
John lowered his rifle and sprung forward, at the same time thrusting
out forcibly with his weapon. The rifle-muzzle took the red-skin full
in the pit of his stomach, doubling him up like a jack-knife, and
causing him to emit a fearful grunt; but at the same time he clutched
the rifle-barrel and held it with a firm grip. This, added to the
impetus of his rush, caused Stevens to stumble headlong, and ere he
could recover himself, several red-skins were upon him.
Literally so in this case, and the young settler was borne struggling
to the ground, almost smothered by the weight of the yelling red-skins.
And then their weapons flashed out and were uplifted to drink his
heart's blood.
It seemed as if the young man's fate was irretrievably sealed, and his
eyes closed as a faint prayer rose to his lips. But his time was not
yet.
Dusky Dick recovered his feet and sprung forward, his head dizzy and
confused by the sound blow he had received. But he knew enough to see
the peril of the young settler, and--for a purpose of his own--resolved
to avert it, for the present.
"Hold! don't strike!" he commanded, in the Sioux dialect. "You must not
kill him yet."
It is not likely that his words would have had the desired effect had
he not beaten the weapons aside with his rifle-barrel, and fairly
hurled one or two of the savages aside.
It was, perhaps, fortunate that John had not shed any blood, although
he had given some severe blows, for then, not even the influence of
Dusky Dick, great as that undoubtedly was, could have saved Stevens
from immolation. Even as it was, two of the red-skins--those who had
received John's compliments--were clamorous for his death.
But Dusky Dick was firm, and fiercely declared that the man who lifted
a hand against Stevens, unless by his express orders, should die
the death of a dog. This threat, when uttered by one possessing the
renegade's resolution, sufficed; and then by his orders, the young
settler was firmly bound.
Dusky Dick drew aside with several of the principal braves, and
consulted earnestly for a few moments; then he returned, and Stevens
was lifted erect. Two savages held him firmly, while another loosened
the bonds that confined his feet, so that he could walk, but not run.
"What do you intend doing, Dusky Dick?" he demanded, in a tone as calm
as he could make it, while such angry passions struggled within his
breast; "what do you mean by this outrage?"
"I told you the Injuns was on the war-path. Now you know it, don't ye?"
chuckled the renegade, triumphantly.
"What're you going to do with _me_?" persisted John.
"Keep you prisoner fer awhile; then burn you, maybe. You must ask Sloan
Young. You are _his_ game."
John saw the uselessness of further speech, and remained silent. He
realized that he was in a truly perilous situation, and though he felt
some natural uneasiness for himself, by far the greater share of his
anxiety was for the peril that threatened Annie.
If Dusky Dick would act thus toward him, might he not do the same with
others? Stevens shuddered convulsively as he realized the peril that
threatened the family of his loved one, who were, as he believed,
totally unsuspicious of the outbreak.
And then his fears were confirmed by the direction taken by his
captors, they heading directly toward the point where the Wilson cabin
was located. As if to put the matter entirely beyond doubt, Dusky
Dick, after a few instructions to the leading red-skin, fell back to
a position just in front of Stevens--the entire party proceeding in
Indian file, as the narrow trail would not admit two abreast--and
tauntingly uttered:
"As you said you was goin' on to Wilson's, I thought I'd give you a
escort, like. Don't you feel highly honored? You hed ought, anyhow,"
and he chuckled grimly.
"You are not--" faltered John, his blood chilling at the significant
tone of the renegade.
"_Ain't_ I? but I _am_, too. Thought you'd be lonely, a captyve by
yourself, so we've concluded to give you comp'ny. But don't count
on _too_ much. Annie's fer _me_. You must be 'tented with the men
critters, onless you take the old gal."
John uttered a hoarse growl of anger, and would have sprung upon his
tormentor, bound though his hands were, had not the guard behind him
divined his intentions and drew him forcibly back. This showed Stevens
the folly of allowing his passions to get the better of him, and so he
kept silence, while Dusky Dick malignantly resumed:
"Yas, Annie's _mine_. That's settled, for good. She'll make a
nice squaw--don't you think so? Anyhow, I'm goin' to resk it. But
t'others--well, they'll prob'ly git jest the same as _you_ will--'ither
knocked on the head decently, or else used fer a bonfire, jest to 'mind
the reds o' old times, when roasted white men warn't an uncommon dish.
"But you don't talk. Deaf, ain't ye? Or be you thinkin' o' the folks at
home? Need it, _they_ do. You said Bob-tailed Horse was there, didn't
you? Well, he was _sent_ there; and, what's more, he was sent thar by
Sloan Young, and he ain't hurt no more'n _you_ be, not a bit! He was
sent thar to open the door at the night time, so 't the reds could walk
in quietly. It's nearly time fer the blow, too, as your folks go to bed
airly. I wonder how they'll feel by mornin'?" and Dusky Dick laughed
ferociously.
Stevens shuddered, but did not reply. He knew that Bob-tailed Horse
would scarcely admit his red brethren, but then there was other danger.
He knew that Fred would try and persuade the family to hasten over to
his house, and he--John--had evidence that the trail was thickly beset
by dangers.
Besides the band that held him a captive, Stevens had heard enough to
know that Sloan Young was also lying near at hand, only awaiting the
proper time to spring his trap upon the "people of the great rock."
Might not Fred also stumble upon one of these parties?
Dusky Dick was not a little provoked at the ill-success of his taunting
boasts, but soon desisted, and once more made his way to the front, as
the party were now rapidly nearing the cabin of Edward Wilson. Their
caution increased, and the party glided along the shadowy path, like
some grim forest hunter.
John was not idle, however. He resolved to escape, if it lay in human
power, as he felt that to remain captive was equivalent to death, more
or less speedy; and he might yet be able to accomplish something.
If too late to save the Wilson family, he might be of use to his own
people.
He worked assiduously upon the bonds that confined his hands. They were
of tanned buckskin, and defied his utmost efforts to break them. The
endeavor only resulted in abrading the skin of his wrists.
The knots appeared to be tied securely, and would neither slip nor come
untied. It seemed as though his hopes were doomed to be frustrated by
this one fact. And yet he did not give way to despair or cease his
efforts, only keeping them concealed--as he was enabled to do by the
darkness beneath the trees--from the red-skins before and behind him.
Now the little party stood upon the verge of the clearing surrounding
the cabin of Edward Wilson, and peered curiously out upon it. An Indian
grasped John firmly by the neck, and rested one hand upon his lips,
evidently resolved that he should give no alarm.
All was quiet around the dwelling. There was no light within the
building, and it seemed as though the inmates had retired to rest, with
their usual feeling of security. Dusky Dick uttered a fiendish laugh.
"You see," he muttered in John's ear, "your friends don't expect
visitors to-night. They will be agreeably surprised--I guess
_not_--when we wake them up. But, still, it _may_ be a trap, and _you_
must guard us from it. Now I am goin' to make you walk jest afore me,
and, mind you, I have a long knife--long enough, anyhow, to reach your
_heart_--ready for use at the slightest sound from your lips. And _I
will use it_, too, if you give a single word or sign to alarm them."
In a few words Dusky Dick made known his plans to his followers, and
they expressed approval of it. John was brought to the front and Dusky
Dick crouched behind him. Then the others strung out in a row, so that
any shot from the house would miss them all, unless first striking the
young settler.
"Now, step out, young feller," muttered Dusky Dick, pricking Stevens
slightly with the point of his bared knife, "and remember that if you
rouse them up, their first shot must take _you_. Pleasant, ain't it?"
and he again gave vent to a fiendish laugh.
John dared not remonstrate, and obeyed the impulse given him by the
renegade, slowly advancing toward the log-cabin. Nearly two hundred
yards of clearing had to be traversed, and as may be imagined, it was a
trying ordeal for the young man's nerves, who knew not at what moment a
shot from his friends might sound his death-knell.
But in this he was agreeably disappointed, for the side of the cabin
was gained in safety. Not a sound broke the stillness that filled the
clearing, save the usual hum and chirping of the summer insects. A
silence as of death seemed upon every thing.
Dusky Dick advanced to the door and gently rapped with his knuckles. No
answer; only the echo of the knock replied. Again and again he repeated
it, with the same result.
A glad hope sprung up in the heart of the young settler. He believed
that the family had taken alarm and sought safety in flight.
This same idea struck Dusky Dick, and he thumped loudly upon the door.
Then with a wild, angry cry he rushed forcibly against it. Still no
answering sound broke the silence.
"The birds have flown!" uttered a savage, in a tone of disgust.
"Break down the door and let's see," cried Dusky Dick, with a bitter
oath.
A simultaneous rush of several sturdy forms, broke down the fastenings
of the door, and then Dusky Dick rushed into the house. He could hear
no signs of its being occupied, and then hastily struck a light. As the
glare filled the room, an angry roar broke from his lips.
The floor was strewn with various articles, whose disorder told of
great haste; that told the renegade his anticipated victims had indeed
taken the alarm and had fled from the impending peril. Now he bitterly
cursed his folly in leaving the building unguarded, after his vain
attempt at compromise.
"Git torches and hunt fer sign," he cried, as he stirred up the embers
that still glowed in the huge fireplace. "They can't have gone far in
this little time. Quick! we will find them yet!"
In a few moments a number of the Indians had secured torches, and were
searching the ground without for some trace to tell them the direction
taken by the fugitives. Meanwhile Dusky Dick had hastily searched
through the building, and confirmed this belief. They were indeed gone.