Thus exhorted, the women, with many protests that they had been
getting the supper ready as quickly as they could, set an appetizing
stew on the table and all eleven of them sat round and fell to, with
exceeding relish after their late terrible fight for life.
As before, one or other of the party from time to time rose during
the meal, and looked out upon the lake to guard against any surprise
attack by some of their late besiegers. Sergeant Dick sat between
Muriel and Jenny, and was scowled at the whole time by Abner, who
sat opposite him.
The two girls did their best to dissuade the sergeant from starting
out before daylight, when, as they said, he might be able by a
little reconnoitering, to learn whether the Indians were still in
the neighborhood and likely to intercept him.
“And if they were,” he answered, “I should then be stuck here until
nightfall again; it would be hopeless to think of getting away. But,
if I slip off now, I have everything in my favor, and should be able
to get ashore safely and reach Seymour’s cabin before daybreak.”
All the men and the other women agreed with him; and, at his
request, old Alf Arnold, exchanging again sundry mysterious winks
and nods with not only his sons, but his wife and daughters-in-law
as well, proceeded to give him minute instructions how he would get
to the shepherd Bill Seymour’s lonely dwelling.
And then, the meal being at an end, Dick asked which of the young
men would put him ashore in a canoe.
“Oh, we’ll take you ashore in the ark, sergeant--me and three of the
lads--you, Aaron, Amos, and Abner. Abel, you and the women ought to
be able to hold the ‘castle’ until our return, although I doan’t for
a minute think as ’ow it’s likely to be attacked ag’in, or us
either, for that matter. So get ready you three, Aaron, Amos, Abner!
Buckle on your cartridge belts ag’in and let’s be moving, for I can
see the sergeant wants to be off.”
John Dick offered his hand to each of the women in succession, and
he could not help noticing what flabby handshakes all save Muriel
and Jenny gave him.
“Good-by! I hope to see you all again soon, under better
circumstances,” he said, as he followed the squatter and his three
sons out the door on to the verandah.
It was quite dark outside now. The tar-barrel had long since burnt
itself out, as had also the stable and buggy-shed on Stable Islet;
and the light had been extinguished in the front or living-room of
the “castle,” so that any watchful eyes on the shores of the lake
might not see the door open, and what was ado.
As all the adieux had been said inside the house, the five men did
not linger on the verandah, but ran at once to the near end of the
ark and sprang aboard.
Old Alf unlocked the cabin door in case of a sudden necessary
retreat. Then while Abel, inside the “castle,” cast off the
mooring-rope secured through the window, Abner hauled it in, and
Aaron, Amos, and Sergeant Dick hoisted the sail on the mast, and got
out two long sweeps as well.
As silently as possible the scow was worked towards the dock-gate,
which was found considerably the worse for the siege.
One of the padlocks was smashed, and the other so battered that the
key would hardly fit the lock, while the stout oaken beams and pales
were all hacked and chipped from the free use of Indian tomahawks.
Unfastening and opening the gate, they warped the ark out. Then
Arnold _pater_ secured the gate again and, spreading their sail
fully to what breeze there was, they shipped their sweeps and stood
silently away round the east side of the “castle,” so as to deceive
any Indian eyes that might have them under observation.
They made as if for the landing-spit on the east side for a short
distance, then tacked and steered northward up the lake, and, when
they were approaching the narrow curving neck there, they shifted
sail again and headed at top speed for the western shore.
By this erratic course they hoped to deceive and leave behind any
Indian canoes that might be out on the lake spying about.
It yet wanted a good two hours to daylight, as they backed in slowly
to the western bank, and gently grounded their broad stern on a
little jutting point similar to the landing-place on the opposite
bank.
All was still save for the low murmuring of the trees in the night
breeze, and an occasional ripple of the placidly lapping water
against the bank and the sides of the scow. The trees were very
dense at the point, the same as everywhere else round the lake, and
in the darkness they seemed to present an impenetrable wall.
But as Old Alf had explained to the sergeant of mounted police, a
trail of blazed trees, which would show up white and thus be plainly
visible even on so dark a night, led right from the point to the
foot of the high cliffs behind the woods. On reaching the cliffs all
he had to do was to skirt their base northward, turn with them and
follow them round, and he could not miss Seymour’s hut on their
farther side.
“Well, good-by, sergeant, I ’opes as ’ow you’ve enjoyed yourself
while you’ve bin ’ere,” said Old Alf, in grim humor, as he shook
Dick’s hand. “Now, your trail’s as cl’ar as daylight, and ye’ll only
hev yourself to blame if you go astray.”
“He can’t go astray nohow, onless he doan’t know his right ’and from
his left,” growled Aaron. “So long, sergeant! Don’t forgit to give
us a call next time you are in these parts.”
“Ay, don’t fail to drop in next time you’re passin’ the lake,”
grinned Amos, cracking an old chestnut which had done hoary service
in the family since one of their early visitors first cracked it.
Abner was not present. He had purposely kept to the other end of the
scow.
Sergeant Dick pressed the hands of the three men again, and sprang
lightly ashore. He turned and waved his hand, then plunged into the
bushes out of sight--to be seized suddenly by the throat with a
strangling grip by a dark form which appeared to spring out of the
ground itself!
At the same time his arms were pinned to his sides by other shadowy,
plume-bedecked forms.
Sergeant Dick was unable to utter a cry with that choking grip upon
his throat, and he was powerless to wrench his arms free. But he had
been in many a similar predicament before--in drinking saloons and
other wild places into which his profession took him in chase of the
malefactor, or the maintenance of law and order--and he had learned
certain tricks of defense even when taken at such a disadvantage.
Quick as thought he jerked up his right knee with all his strength.
It came in contact with something soft and yielding--the chest of
the man gripping him by the throat of course.
There was a gasp, and the Indian relaxed his grip upon his windpipe.
Immediately he sent up a ringing warning shout to the occupants of
the ark.
“Help! Redskins!”
At the same time he ducked his head and drove it forward at the
winded savage’s face, while wrenching with all his strength to free
his arms, and curling one of his legs round in a sweeping motion
sideways and backwards.
His maneuvers were highly successful. In fully a dozen cases he had
found them work just as well before.
The winded savage was sent flying headlong backwards against a tree
with his nose nearly flattened by the top of the white captive’s
head; and another redman, with legs scooped clean from under him,
went down sidelong, amongst the bushes on the brave young police
officer’s right hand.
With that hand thus released, Sergeant Dick promptly drove it into
the chest of the Indian, pinning his left hand. And as the man
staggered back, tripping over the bushes and nearly falling, the
thicket rang to the piercing war-whoop of the Indians, and became
alive with madly rushing, be-plumed shadows.
Two of these aimed fierce blows at Sergeant Dick’s head, but,
luckily for him, in striking down the Indian on his left, he had
slipped upon a fallen twig. He fell heavily upon the broad of his
back, and the tomahawks of the two fresh assailants missed him.
One of the pair, indeed, fell over him, and the second man,
satisfied that he could not escape with his late captors also to
reckon with, ran on after the others towards the ark.
There came the sharp popping of revolvers from that craft, and
several screams of agony intermingled with the Indian whooping.
Old Alf Arnold and his sons were not taken unawares. They had caught
the alarm from Sergeant Dick’s devoted shout, and instantly wheeled
about and dropped, crouching upon one knee in the stern, in the act
of pushing the craft off the point.
All three had their holster flaps open, so that they might whip out
their automatics instantly. In fact, as they had approached the
shore every man had his pistol ready cocked in his hand.
Partly screened, in their kneeling attitudes, by the high sloping
stern and sides of the scow, they met the onrush of the Indians with
a fusillade which quickly checked it.
Old Alf, Aaron and Amos were in the stern, as already stated. Abner
was in the bows with the long, double-roomed cabin between him and
them.
He was out of the fight so to speak, but, a quick glance round the
side of the “house” or cabin showed him the forms of his father and
brothers firing at the redskins ashore, and hurriedly he grabbed a
rope that came in over the bow and was attached to an anchor some
little way out in the lake.
He heaved upon this rope quickly, hand over hand, with all his
might, and drew the light, easily moved ark, swiftly through the
water away from the shore.
This was another of the many “wrinkles” or ideas that Old Alf Arnold
had taken from the famous American author, Fenimore Cooper’s story,
“The Deerslayer.” Like “Floating Tom Hutter” in that novel, Arnold
and his sons always dropped an anchor well away from the shore of
the lake when about to land from the ark, and paid out the rope. By
hauling on the rope a prompt retreat, if necessary, from the shore
could always be easily effected.