From the position now occupied by the devoted little band, a view
of the whole adjacent country was distinctly commanded, even
to the very gates of the fort, from which they had never advanced
more than half a mile on their retreat, and within a mile of which
their movements had again brought them. On looking anxiously around
to see from what direction the most imminent danger would proceed,
Captain Headley remarked a largo body of Indians issuing from the
gateway, and moving slowly from the fort towards them.
"Give me the glass, Mr. Elmsley," he said to that officer, who had
it slung over his shoulder, "let me see if I can make out what they
intend. Ha! by heaven they are moving one of the field pieces
towards us. Could they but manage a few rounds of that, they would
soon make short work of the affair, but the simpletons seem to have
overlooked the fact of the gun being spiked--even if they knew how
to aim it."
"If it is the gun that was in the block-house, it is not spiked,
sir," remarked Sergeant Nixon.
"Not spiked! how is that?" asked the captain quickly--almost angrily.
"The spikes were too large, sir; and Weston, whose duty it was,
broke a ramrod off instead."
"Ha! is it so? What a thought strikes me! Could we get hold of that
gun, we might yet make terms with those devils. Who will lead a
forlorn hope and volunteer to take it?"
"I will," thundered Ronayne, with sudden vivacity, his eye flashing
fiercely as he met the glance of his commanding officer. "Spare me
three men from each face of the square, and I will bring it to you
or die in the attempt." The captain colored and looked annoyed with
himself.
"One moment, Mr. Ronayne. Have we the means of removing the broken
ramrod if we should get the gun? Where is the armorer?"
"I have them, sir," returned the man. "I thought a drill and a
hammer would be useful on the march, and so I put them in my pack."
"Pish! there is another difficulty. Your pack is as difficult to
reach as the gun. It is in the wagon, is it not?"
"Yes, sir, and the hammer in it, but I have the spike thrust through
a piece of beef in my haversack."
"All right. There are stones enough around to supply the absence
of a hammer."
"Volunteers to the front!" said Ronayne, in a low, firm tone, and
with compressed lip. "What Hardscrabble men will follow me?"
Simultaneously, Sergeant Nixon, Corporals Collins and Green;
Phillips, Watson, Weston, and Degarmo, stepped forth, with several
others, anxious to be of the party, until the number was made up,
and again the diminished square closed upon its centre.
"Not yet," cried Captain Headley, who, having once more applied
the glass to his eye, was closely watching the movements of the
Indian mass. "Nothing must be left to mere chance. Mr. Elmsley,
what is the position of the wagon which contains the ammunition?"
"It was the leading one, sir," returned the officer addressed.
"What alteration has been made in the act of throwing them into
square, I cannot possibly tell."
"See, is not that it?" asked the commanding officer, pointing to
one from the top of which several casks protruded.
"It is," was the reply.
"Then, Mr. Ronayne, first lead your party to the wagons and let
each man load himself from the keg of ball cartridge, and as many
grenades as he can carry--these must supply the place of larger
shot, if we get the gun. Lose no time. There is not an Indian on
that side of the sandhill now, and you will easily accomplish your
object. Sampson," addressing the armorer, "you may as well avail
yourself of the opportunity to get your heavy hammer. The stones
about here are brittle, and may break."
In little more than five minutes, this first part of their duty
was accomplished, although under circumstances far more painful
and repugnant than the more dangerous one in reserve. On their way
to the wagons they were compelled to pass close to the scalped and
disembowelled body of the brave but unfortunate Wells, whose still
bleeding heart, only half eaten, was encrusted with sand, and bore
the ragged impress of teeth driven furiously and voraciously into
it. On their arrival near the wagons, their nerves were further
tried by the horrible and disgusting spectacle of the slain children,
whose scalped heads and mutilated remains gave unmistakable evidence
of the fate that awaited themselves unless Providence should
interpose a miracle in their favor, while their ears were assailed
by the stifled groans and sobbings of mothers who had covered their
heads up with blankets and sheets, not only with a view to shut
out the appalling sight of their murdered offspring, but to seek
exemption from a similar fate. So confused was the perception of
those poor, unhappy creatures, that they could not identify either
the voices or the language of those who were now near them--some,
the fathers of the innocents they mourned--but believed them to be
Pottowatomies, and it was not until they had departed, and were
out of sight, that they ventured again to uncover their heads, and
breathe a pure air.
By the time the party returned, and had deposited within the square
the keg of ball cartridges, and some fifty hand grenades, the
Indians in great numbers had brought the three pounder, which was
now made out to be the calibre of the gun, to the very spot where
Capt. Headley had first formed the square, and just without the
present range of the heavy muskets of the men. There was a great
deal of clamor and bustle about the manner of manoeuvring the piece,
and with the aid of the glass it could be distinctly seen that they
once or twice applied a burning torch to the breech, for, when this
was done, the Indians grouped around retired quickly from its
neighborhood, but, on finding it did not explode, seemed for the
first time to be sensible of the cause, and again gathered near
it.
"Now, Mr. Ronayne, is your time," said Capt. Headley to the young
officer, whose volunteers, twelve in number, with a hand grenade
in each haversack, and a second in his right hand, now stood ready,
with their muskets at the trail, to ignite the port fire, and
descend upon the formidable mass below them. "Sampson, the moment
you reach the gun, drive in the spike, and turn the muzzle towards
the thickest of the enemy. Every bullet will, doubtless, tell. The
discharge will throw them into confusion, and enable you, Mr.
Ronayne, to retire under the cover of our musketry. The gun once
here, and we may change the fortune of the day. Are your port fires
all lighted? Forward, then!"
And down in silence dashed the little party into the midst of their
enemies. Taken completely by surprise, and dismayed at the
sight of the hissing port fire, which they did not comprehend, the
Indians at first drew back and opened a running fire from their
inferior guns, but seeing how small was the number of their
assailants, they again advanced and waited for their nearer approach,
determined apparently to save their powder and make the tomahawk
alone perform its work. Suddenly, Ronayne, who had dismounted on
the hill, halted within twenty paces of the spot, and with his men
at extended order. The Indians dared not to provoke a hand-to-hand
encounter, for that would have brought them within the range of
the muskets they saw levelled above. This was a most critical and
anxious moment to the young officer. He had descended the hill too
rapidly for the port fire to be sufficiently consumed for ignition
of the shells generally, and for nearly a minute they stood thus,
their muskets still at the trail, and at every moment expecting
the Indians to make a final spring upon them.
At length, after the lapse of a few seconds, which seemed ages,
the fire rapidly approached the iron.
"Now, my lads," shouted the Virginian, "throw them in lustily."
A loud cheer burst from the lips of each, as, after having hurled
the missives of death into the dense groups of the astonished
savages, they followed up the advantage created by the confusion
of the bursting shells, by a rush upon the gun, the drag-ropes of
which were seized amid many distant shots, and so effectually used
that, before the former could recover from their panic, the piece
was withdrawn under cover of the fire from the square, and its
muzzle turned to the enemy.
A second loud and triumphant cheer followed from the hill, and the
strong voice of Captain Headley could be distinctly heard when it
had ceased.
"Quick, quick, Mr. Ronayne; there is another strong band approaching
the wood on your left. The work is but half done."
"Light your second grenades," ordered Ronayne. "The sight of the
burning port fires will keep them in check. Sampson, will you never
have finished with the gun? what are you fumbling about that you
do not drive in the ramrod?"
But the man spake not; he reclined motionless over the breech of
the field piece. The next moment the brazen plated cap fell from
his head, and a white forehead was exhibited, with a slight
incrustation of blood on the temple showing where the fatal rifle
ball had entered.
"Ha! dead!" exclaimed Ronayne, excitedly, as he caught the man by
the collar and gently lowered him to the ground. "I must then
perform your duty."
He caught up the drill and the heavy hammer which the stiffening
armorer had dropped, and so well and powerfully did he use it, that
after a few blows the end of the ramrod, broken short off at the
touch--hole, fell into the body of the gun, and the vent-hole was
clear.
"All right," he exclaimed; "quick, Collins, a couple of cartridges
to prime with."
In another moment the gun was ready. The officer passed his eye
along the sight, and saw that the muzzle pointed fully at the large
body that was approaching a small patch of brushwood to take him
in flank.
"The moment I fire," he ordered, "throw in your second grenades,
seize the drag-ropes and retire with all speed with the gun.
I see the fuses are nearly burnt out; this is rather a short one
for my purpose, Collins, but it must answer."
Stepping to the right side of the gun, he held forth the grenade
with his left hand, and applied the port fire to the touch-hole.
There was a fizz of a few seconds, and then the gun went off with
a loud explosion, and a fierce recoil. Yells and shrieks rent the
air, and in a moment the whole of the new band were scampering away
in full flight, leaving behind them some five-and-twenty of their
party killed and disabled by the discharge of the piece, loaded,
as has been seen, with musket bullets.
Profiting by the consternation into which this murderous fire had
thrown the whole body of Pottowatomies, the men pealed forth another
cheer even louder than the first, hurled forward their grenades,
not yet ready for explosion, as far as they could throw them, and
seizing the drag-ropes, ran fleetly with it towards the hill.
Stricken with disappointment, the Indians lost sight of their usual
caution, and rushed furiously forward to recover the gun, which,
however, being now discharged, was of no actual use to them.
"Leave the gun where it is, and bring off your officer," shouted
Captain Headley in a clear voice. "See you not that he is wounded,
and the Indians advancing to dispatch him?"
This was the first intimation the men had of the fact. In their
anxiety to secure the gun, they had not observed that Ronayne, hit
by a rifle bullet while in the very act of firing his piece, had
been brought to the ground with a broken leg, and rendered unable
to follow them. But, no sooner had Captain Headley uttered the
order than all hastened back to the spot where the Virginian reclined
on one side, with the musket of the armorer tightly grasped, and
his look still bent upon the distant forest.
Just as they had reached, and were preparing to lift him up, the
Indians again rushed forward to dispute his possession. They were
within twenty paces, and brandishing their tomahawks triumphantly,
when, suddenly, and one after another, burst in the midst of them,
the grenades which had been hurled prematurely on the discharge of
the field piece, and striking panic into their body, caused them
once more hurriedly to retire.
But this check was only momentary. Rendered reckless at every moment
from the liquor which all had more or less imbibed at different
periods of the battle, and ashamed that they should be kept at bay
by so mere a handful of men, the dark mass now fiercely closed upon
the little party that bore off the wounded officer, and commenced
their attack.
Meanwhile, Captain Headley, seeing this resolute forward movement
of the Indians, and anticipating the certain destruction of the
whole, moved his little square rapidly towards the gun, causing
his men to take with them the ammunition which had been collected
there, and soon the piece was again loaded and turned to his front.
But it was found impossible to discharge the gun without endangering
the lives of his own men more than those even of the enemy, for
the Indians in immediate pursuit kept themselves so cautiously in
the rear of the former, that, in the position he then occupied, it
was impossible to reach them alone. The only movement that could
save them was a rapid change of ground, so as to enable him to take
the enemy in flank, and of this he hastened to avail himself by
again occupying the sandhill. This was done; but in the short
time taken to effect the movement, the bloodhounds had too well
profited by their advantage.
At the head of the pursuers was the Chippewa, Pee-to-tum. His voice
had been loudest in the war whoop, as his foot had been the most
forward in the advance; and his denunciations of the dog Headley,
as he called him, were bitter, and he called loudly for him that
he might kill him with his tomahawk.
"Save yourselves, men, and leave me to my fate," exclaimed the
Virginian, as he heard the voice of the Chippewa almost in his ear.
"Nixon, remove the colors from my shoulders and take them into the
square. I shall not die happy until I know them to be secure."
"Nay, sir," said the non-commissioned officer, "we will not, cannot
desert you; and, if we would, it is now out of our power--we are
too closely pressed--we must fight to the last."
"Then drop me, and turn and fight. Let us not be struck down like
dastards, with our backs to the enemy. Where is that musket?"
"Here it is, sir," said the serjeant; "but in your present disabled
state you cannot make use of it."
"At least I will try," returned the Virginian. "If I could but slay
the black-souled Pee-to-tum, I should revenge the treachery of this
day, and perhaps be the means of saving the remnant of our brave
fellows."
"Oh!" gasped Nixon, as he fell suddenly dead upon the body of his
wounded officer. He had been shot through the back and under the
left rib. A fierce veil followed, and Ronayne beheld the hellish
face of the Chippewa, looking more disgusting than ever in the loss
of his left eye, as, with shining blade, he bounded forward to take
the scalp of his victim.
The body of the serjeant lay across his shattered leg, and not only
gave him great anguish, but impeded his action, faint, moreover,
as he was from loss of blood from several subsequent wounds received
during his transit from the spot where he first had fallen. But
the opportunity of avenging his wife, himself, and his slaughtered
companions--the latter all murdered at his instigation--was one
that would never occur again, and all his energies were aroused.
Even while the half--drunken savage was in the act of taking the
scalp of the unfortunate Nixon, Ronayne removed the bayonet from
the musket, and grasping it with all the fierce determination of
hatred, drove the sharp long instrument with such force through
his exposed body, that not only the point protruded several inches
on the opposite side, but the inner edge of the socket itself cut
deeply into the flesh.
Absolutely roaring with pain, the Chippewa left his bloody work
unfinished. The knife fell from his grasp. He sprang to his feet,
and having at once seen by whose hand the blow had been inflicted,
a sudden thought appeared to occur to him. Down again he threw
himself furiously upon the body of the wounded officer, who,
anticipating the act, had by this time armed himself with the knife
that lay with its handle on the ground and the trickling blade
across the down-turned cheek of the serjeant. He sought to encircle
him in his death grip, but, in falling, the handle of the bayonet
had struck the ground, driving the weapon even deeper in, and thus
adding to his torture. But the greater his suffering, the more
desperate became his thirst for revenge. He now managed to throw
his arms round the neck of the Virginian, and said something in
broken English, which, accompanied as his language was by a
fiendish laugh rendering his countenance more hideous than ever,
caused the latter to make the most furious endeavor to release
himself, while with his right and disengaged hand he struck blindly
with his knife at the uncovered throat of the Indian. But the weapon
was soon wrested from his enfeebled hands, and the Chippewa,
dexterously turning himself so as to get the body of his enemy
completely under him, now tried to scalp him alive. Weak as he was,
the young officer did not lose sight of his presence of mind.
Scarcely had the scalping knife touched his head, when it was again
withdrawn with the most horrible contortions of the whole body of
the Chippewa. Fixing his eye on the Indian's face above that he
might feast on the agony of the wretch who had just avowed himself
to be the violator of his wife, while threatening a repetition of
the outrage when the battle should be over, the Virginian had seized
the handle of the bayonet, and turned the weapon so furiously in
the wound as to cause one general laceration, the agony arising
from which could only be comprehended from the spasmodic movements
and wild bellowings of the savage. In order to free himself from
the torture he was too much distracted by pain to think of removing
by the instant death of his enemy, the Chippewa sprang suddenly
upwards, but this movement only tended to increase the torments
under which he writhed, for, as the Virginian held the handle firmly
in his grasp, the bayonet was half withdrawn, and the sharp point
forced, by the down-hanging weight of the socket, into a new
direction. Wild with revenge and pain, he was at length in the
act of raising his tomahawk to dispatch the Virginian, who had
abandoned his hold of the bayonet, when a shot came from the front
of the square, and Pee-to-tum fell dead across the bodies of both
his immediate victims. Singular to say, the ball, aimed by Captain
Headley himself at the upper part of his person, and during the
only period when the Indians could be reached without danger to
some one or other of the men, entered his brain over his injured
eye, and forced out the other.
The fall of the detested Chippewa--the head and stay of their
battle--seemed greatly to dispirit the Pottowatomies, a band of
about fifty of whom had followed them in this fierce onset. Of that
number, some fifteen had perished, both in the hand-to-hand encounter
with the immediate followers of Ronayne and several shots from the
square. On the other hand, but four of the volunteers
remained--Corporal Collins, Phillips, Weston, and Degarmo--the latter
severely wounded. All the others had fallen, and, with the exception
of Serjeant Nixon, been scalped.
A cessation of the contest now ensued, and the Indians, holding up
what was intended to be a flag of truce, asked permission to carry
off the body of the Chippewa. Sensible how impolitic it would be
to exasperate them without necessity, Captain Headley granted their
request, adding that now the bad man who counselled them had been
stricken down by the anger of the Great Spirit, he hoped they would
come to their senses and obey their legitimate chiefs.
A low murmuring among themselves was the only reply, as they placed
the body in a blanket, drew the bayonet from the wound, from which
followed a copious dark stream, and leisurely proceeded with their
burden and the scalps they had secured to rejoin another body of
their tribe who had been watching them in the distance, and who
now rapidly advanced to meet them, evidently anxious to know
why they returned unmolested, and what tidings they brought.
Advantage was taken of this cessation of combat to bring back what
remained of the gallant little band of volunteers within the square.
The dead were left to moisten the sands on which they had so bravely
fallen. Ronayne still lived, but he could not be removed. The
slightest motion of his body brought with it agony little less
excruciating than that which his enemy had experienced. He knew he
must die, and he begged Captain Headley to let him perish where he
was, under the shadow of the guns of his comrades, and in full
sight of the forest which he knew contained all that he loved on
earth. What he asked to be spared to him was a cloak to shield him
from the burning heat of the sand, and a little water to moisten
his parched lips. Oh! what would he not have given for a draught
of the cool claret of the dinner of yesterday!