THE STORM BURSTS.
It was little past midnight when Holdness, who held the watch, espied
two persons coming from the garrison, who, to his astonishment, proved
to be Tony Stewart and Sam Sumerford.
"Who sent you here?" he exclaimed.
"Where's my father?" inquired Tony, instead of answering the question.
"On the other side of the river, with Mr. Honeywood."
"Where's our Harry?" said Sam.
"He's over there with 'em."
"You won't tell Tony's father nor our Harry that we are here, will you,
Mr. Holdness? 'cause we've both of us got rifles, and we want to kill
Indians. You know Tony killed an Indian; and I want to kill one, and he
wants to kill another. We ain't no good in the fort, the Indians won't
come there: we want to be where the Indians come."
"Well, now, do you start right back just as quick as you kin go, or
I'll take my ramrod to you. Why, your mothers'll be worried to death
about you. How did you get out of the fort?"
"We came out when all the rest did."
"Where have you been all this time?"
"We went into Mr. Armstrong's barn, and went to sleep on the hay."
"Well, go right back: you're no use; you'll only get killed, and won't
do any good, but in the fort you will. Don't go up ter the gate till
daylight, for Blanchard'll shoot you. Go back to the barn, and sleep
till sunrise."
Slowly and sulkily the boys started off in the direction indicated by
Holdness.
"What little tykes they are! if that ain't grit, I'd like ter know what
is."
Honeywood, perceiving by the moon that it was not far from daybreak,
roused his men. Scarcely had he done so, when Harry and Ned Armstrong,
who had been sent in advance, returned to report that the Indians were
coming along the ordinary path, but at some distance.
Now ensued a period of intense expectation: every ear was strained
to catch the faintest sound that might betoken the approach of the
foe. But the mighty forest was silent as the grave; not a breath of
wind stirred the foliage; not even the howl of a wolf, or the cry of
a night-bird, was heard. The light murmur of the stream among the
rocks that here and there strewed the shallows of the ford alone broke
the silence of that lovely morning, that seemed made for repose, not
slaughter.
The day was now breaking fast; and, even amid the dim shadows of the
forest, objects near at hand could be distinguished: still no foe
appeared.
At length the cracking of a dry stick was heard, but so faintly as
only to be perceptible to the trained ear of the frontier-man; and
the long line of dark forms came gliding along the path noiselessly
as the panther steals upon his prey. The foremost Indian stooped as
he reached the bank, examined the ground, and listened intently. The
least sound--a loud breath, the click of a gunlock, or even the least
footprint in the soil--would have alarmed the keen senses of the
savage. There was neither sound nor sign; for Honeywood and his party
well knew with whom they had to deal, and had not crossed at the ford,
but at some distance above.
The leader now touched with his finger the warrior next him, and that
one the next. When the signal had thus passed along the line, the
last man marched to the front, thus bringing them two abreast, in
which order they entered the water, keeping close. Six had mounted the
opposite bank, and the rest were following, when the deep stillness of
nature was broken by the roar of fire-arms; and the greater part of
those forms but an instant before instinct with life, and breathing
vengeance, sank beneath the wave, or, after a few convulsive struggles,
were borne away by the rapid current; and the rays of the rising sun
gleamed on waters red with blood. Another volley instantly succeeded,
completing the slaughter; two only were seen to crawl on their hands
and knees, sorely wounded, to the shelter of some bushes that grew
on the water's edge; but, ere they could reach the covert, Armstrong
rushed down the bank, tomahawk in hand, and despatched them.
[Illustration: THE AMBUSCADE.--Page 59.]
Elated with the success of their ambush (for the two volleys had swept
away the Indians on the borders of both banks and those in the water,
while, being under cover, the settlers had received no harm from the
fire that the Indians in their surprise returned), Holdness and his men
instantly dashed across the ford, and joined Honeywood, resolved to
follow up their advantage.
Although meeting with a severe loss of men and a severe resistance,
when they had expected to surprise their foes, the savages did not
retreat, but took trees, and, confident in their superior force,
renewed the contest.
Holdness now had reason to regret, that, under the impulse of the
moment, he had not acted with his usual caution in thus crossing the
stream; for, although the river protected the rear of the little band,
the savages, by occupying the bank both above and below them, could
command the ford; and thus they were prevented from retreating without
being exposed to the fire of the Indians while crossing the stream,
while the latter would be under cover.
In another manner they made their superiority in numbers tell to the
disadvantage of the settlers. Behind some of the largest trees, two
Indians stationed themselves, one standing, the other lying flat on
the ground; and whenever a settler, knowing that the Indian opposed to
him had fired, incautiously exposed himself to load, he was liable to
be hit by the other. Before this stratagem was discovered, three of the
settlers were killed, and several wounded.
An Indian was stationed behind a large sugar-tree within half
rifle-shot of Harry Sumerford, and they had long been trying to kill
each other. At length the Indian fired, but missed; and Harry, knowing
his rifle was empty, stepped from behind his tree to take better aim,
and would have been shot by another (who, unbeknown to Harry, was lying
behind the same tree), but at that moment a rifle cracked, and the
savage fell over, shot through the head; and a well-known voice cried,--
"Zukkers! I've shot another Indian!"
Looking round in surprise, Harry espied Tony Stewart, on his knees
behind a windfall, his rifle resting on it, the smoke yet rising from
the muzzle, and Sam also crouching behind the same tree.
"You little plagues!" exclaimed Harry, "what sent you here right into
the thickest of the fire?"
"If I hadn't been here," retorted Tony, "you'd 'a' been killed; for,
when I shot that Indian, he had his finger on the trigger."
"Is that so?"
"Yes," said Sam; "and there's two Indians behind most every tree."
It came out, that, after being sent home by Holdness, they sauntered
off in that direction till beyond his notice, and then went along by
the bank of the river. There they found the raft on which Honeywood
and his party had crossed, and which they had set adrift. They sat
down on the raft, and waited till the conflict began, and the Indians
had fallen back; when, no longer able to resist the temptation, they
crossed on the raft.
Once across, they crept along beneath the high bank near to where the
settlers were posted, and, concealing themselves among the drift-wood,
lay unnoticed till the Indians, returning by degrees, had obtained such
positions as to command the ford.
There was now no such thing as sending them home; and well they knew
it, and no longer hesitated to show themselves and take part in the
conflict.
Great was the alarm of the parents at home when Sam and Tony did not
make their appearance at the breakfast-table, and when they found their
beds had not been slept in.
Their fears were by no means allayed when (after the most searching
inquiries of the other boys, mingled with threats of summary punishment
if they refused to tell) they ascertained, partly from Ike Proctor and
partly from Archie Crawford, where they had gone.
"Did ever anybody in this world see such children?" said Mrs.
Sumerford. "That's what comes of letting them have rifles, tomahawks,
and scalping-knives, and bringing them up like wolves, as Mr. Honeywood
says."
"It's a sair thing, nae doubt, to hae the weans sae greedy for fight
when they've nae come till't; still I ken there's nae knowledge mair
needfu' than the knowledge o' fighting in these waefu' times, for it's
just kill or be kilt," said Mrs. Stewart, who took a more practical
view of the matter.
It was a source of great mortification to Sam Sumerford, that he had
never yet been able to kill an Indian, although Tony had killed two;
and he was prepared to incur any risk to accomplish that feat; and,
after long waiting, the opportunity was presented.
The Indians are extremely dexterous in carrying away their dead, and
even during the time of action will generally contrive to remove or
conceal their bodies.
Tony saw a savage conveying away the body of another who had been shot
by Holdness. Having fastened a line to the head of the corpse, this
savage, lying flat on the ground, taking advantage of every inequality,
was worming himself along, and almost imperceptibly drawing the body
after him.
Sammy crept along after him, gradually drawing near, till within
short range. The body at length came in contact with a log: and, the
Indian cautiously raising himself from the ground to lift it over the
obstacle, Sammy, firing, killed him.
Entirely occupied in endeavoring to accomplish his purpose, he had
crawled much farther than he was aware. The next moment an Indian,
rushing out of a thick clump of trees, caught the boy, and, holding him
before him as a protection from the fire of the settlers, began to walk
slowly backwards.
A cry of horror arose from the ranks of the whites; while the Indians
filled the air with yells of exultation, and increased their fire to
prevent rescue.
The Indian was within a few feet of the clump from which he had issued,
slowly retreating amid the silence of friends and foes, all intently
watching his progress, when the report of a rifle rung through the
forest, and the savage fell, shot through the very centre of his
forehead.
"God bless you, Mr. Honeywood!" shouted Harry: "you had help to do
that."
"I asked for it," was the reply, as he leaned against the tree behind
which he stood, pale and weak with emotion.
The savages endeavored to shoot the lad as he lay on the ground; but
the noble fellow pulled the body of the savage over his own, thus
sheltering himself till Harry and Alex, rushing forward, rescued him,
Harry escaping unharmed, and Alex with a slight flesh-wound.
"They are not such shots as Honeywood, or neither of you would have
come back," said Holdness.
"Hope you've got enough of it now, youngster," said Harry as he put the
boy down.
"I want to kill another Indian, and I mean to, 'cause Tony's killed
two."
The settlers now found themselves in a position of great peril, being
too few in number to advance, while, at the same time, they could
not recross the ford without exposing themselves to the same fearful
slaughter which they had inflicted upon the Indians.
The latter soon made it evident that they were fully sensible of their
advantage. With great skill and promptitude they made a raft which
they covered with brush, and on it placed their arms, then, swimming
alongside, pushed it across the stream, and, seizing their arms, took
the most direct route to the fort.
"They'll capture the fort, and massacre our families," said Armstrong.
"We must brave their fire, cross the river, and go to the rescue at
whatever cost of life."
"Not so," said Holdness. "If the fort was empty, they couldn't enter it
in a hurry. There's a choice man in command, who has no flinch about
him: the boys'll do good service at the loop-holes, and so will the
women, and the cannon rake the walls. We'll hold our ground till night,
and, if we must fall back, do it under cover of night."
The Indians who remained now increased their fire, accompanied with
fearful yells. Their yells, however, went for nothing with the
settlers; and having, in consequence of detailing a part of their
number to attack the fort, reduced themselves to one man at each tree,
they were deprived of the advantage in shooting they at first enjoyed,
and inflicted no injury upon the settlers, while they, who never fired
at random, frequently brought the death-yell from some savage.
Finding they were losing ground, and fruitful in expedients, some of
the Indians swam the stream, and brought over the raft that had been
used by their comrades, and, placing their arms on it, crossed to the
other side.
Having rifles which had been furnished them by the French, and the
stream being narrow, they intended to attack the settlers in the rear
by firing across it, while sheltered themselves by the trees that
grew along the bank. In this manner they hoped soon to destroy their
stubborn and implacable foes, while the others should capture the fort.
Concealed from the frontiersmen by a bend of the stream, they were
making their preparations. Holdness (versed in Indian wiles) suspected
their design by seeing a number of the warriors going in one direction.
"Boys," said he, "one of you climb that bushy hemlock, and see what
these redskins, so many of them, are going over that knoll arter.
They're working some plot to circumvent us."
Detecting by this means the intentions of their enemies, they quickly
threw up a breastwork of drift-wood and saplings, which they cut with
their tomahawks; and, when the Indians attained their position on the
opposite bank, they found the frontiersmen effectually intrenched, and,
foiled where they had counted on success, they hastened to aid in the
capture of the garrison.
The Indians possessed quite an accurate knowledge of the number of
men in the Run, and knew by the firing and observation that there
could not be more than two or three men left in the fort, and felt no
apprehension in approaching quite near the walls.
But they did not know there was a large number of boys, who, firing
from a rest, were as good or even better marksmen than themselves, were
most of them armed with rifles, that many of the women could shoot,
and that they were under the command of a man who was not inferior to
themselves either in subtlety or vindictive feeling.
Observing the approach of the savages, Blanchard placed the boys at
the loop-holes, and with them Mrs. Honeywood, Joan, and Mrs. Holdness,
Mrs. Grant, Lucy Mugford, Mrs. Sumerford, Mrs. Stewart, and Maccoy's
wife, with orders to be ready, but not to put the muzzles into the loop
till they received a signal to fire. The large gun in the flanker, that
raked the whole side of the fort on which was the main entrance, and
that was loaded with bullets and buckshot to the muzzle, and concealed
by a bundle of straw flung over it, was given in charge of Will Grant,
one of Harry Sumerford's "Young Defenders," a cool, resolute young
fellow, in his nineteenth year. Thus there was no show of defence
visible from without.
Blanchard said by way of encouragement, after counting the number of
the Indians: "Neighbors, there's no cause for alarm, not a mite: the
ambush was a raal thing, and give the imps a downright raking, I know
by the death-yells; and our folks are holding their own now, or else
they would have spared more Indians to come here; and, if I don't teach
'em a lesson that'll stick, my name's not Israel Blanchard, and I
wasn't born in the Eastern woods."
The Indians, confident that the inmates of the fort were nearly all
women, and still more confirmed in the opinion by observing no guns at
the loop-holes, nor any persons on the platforms (for Blanchard had
ordered every one to keep out of sight, but to be ready at a moment's
notice), and a bundle of straw in the embrasure of the flanker,
approached the walls without the least hesitation, and one of them made
signals for a parley. Blanchard accordingly mounted to the platform
over the gate, and asked the spokesman what he wanted.
"Pale-face let Indians come in, Indian no hurt him. Pale-face make
fight, then Indian take the fort, kill him."
"You can't take this fort soon: we can hold it till our people come
back."
"Your warriors never come back: most all dead. Delawares all round 'em,
shoot 'em down just like one pigeon."
"You lie. I know the ground and the men; I can see the smoke of the
guns; they've got a good cover, have killed many of your people, and
will hold their own."
Finding that he could not deceive the frontiersman in this way, the
savage changed his ground. "S'pose good many Indians keep your warriors
good while: we take the fort soon, then we kill squaw, pappoose, all,
every one, burn some. S'pose you give up, no hurt you."
"We can kill a good many of you before you can take this fort, and if
we give up you'll kill all the same when you get us: so be off with
you," grasping his rifle.
"Indian no hurt you," persisted the savage.
"What will you do with us?"
"Let you go to the Susquehanna. You no belong here: this Delawares'
land."
"Will you let us take our cattle and mules and goods and arms?"
"Every thing."
"You told the people at Fort Granville if they would surrender you
wouldn't hurt 'em; and then you roasted the man who opened the gate to
you, butchered and scalped all but one, and would have killed him if
you could."
"We killed them because they killed a good many of our people: you no
kill us, we no kill you."
"Well, I'll open the gate."
Blanchard made a great show of removing bolts and bars, the Indians
meanwhile eagerly crowding up to the gate and walls; and, perceiving
through a crevice in the timber that they were compact together, he
made a signal to Grant, who applied the match.
"Ay!" cried McClure as he listened to the firing, "as pretty a volley
as one would want to hear, and the cannon too. That tells the story:
some of the sarpents have caught it. Israel Blanchard's not the man to
waste powder himself, nor to let anybody else." Israel threw the gate
open, and went out to look at the dead.
"What makes you open the gate, Mr. Blanchard?" said his wife.
"It might as well be open as shut: not another Indian will you see
round this fort to-day. They'll not come here agin in a hurry. A pretty
sprinkling of deed Indians: there's more money value in the scalps
lying here than in our whole harvest."
He now proceeded coolly to tear the scalps from the heads of the slain.