When Ole Thorwald was landed at the foot of that wild gorge in the
cliffs, which has been designated the Goat's Pass, he felt himself to be
an aggrieved man, and growled accordingly.
"It's too bad o' that fire-eating fellow to fix on _me_ for this
particular service," said he to one of the settlers named Hugh Barnes, a
cooper, who acted as one of his captains; "and at night too, just as if
a man of my years were a cross between a cat, (which everybody knows can
see in the dark,) and a kangaroo, which is said to be a powerful leaper,
though whether in the dark or the light I don't pretend to know--not
being informed on the point. Have a care, Hugh. It seems to me you're
going to step into a quarry hole, or over a precipice. How my old flesh
quakes, to be sure! If it was only a fair flat field and open day, with
any odds you like against me, it would be nothing; but this abominable
Goat's--Hah! I knew it. Help! hold on there! murder!"
Ole's sudden alarm was caused by his stumbling in the dark over the root
of a shrub which grew on the edge of, and partly concealed, a precipice,
over which he was precipitated, and at the foot of which his mangled and
lifeless form would soon have reposed, had not his warlike forefathers,
being impressed with the advantage of wearing strong sword-belts,
furnished the sword which Ole wore with such a belt as was not only on
all occasions sufficient to support the sword itself, but which, on this
particular occasion, was strong enough to support its owner when he was
suspended from, and entangled with, the shrubs of the cliff.
A ray of light chanced to break into the dark chasm at the time, and
revealed all its dangers to the pendulous Thorwald so powerfully that he
positively howled with horror.
The howl brought Hugh and several of his followers to his side, and they
with much difficulty, for he was a heavy man, succeeded in dragging him
from his dangerous position and placing him on his feet, in which
position he remained for some time speechless and blowing.
"Now, I'll tell ye what it is, boys," said he at length, "if ever you
catch me going on an expedition of this sort again, flay me alive--
that's all--don't spare me. Pull off the cuticle as if it were a glove,
and if I roar don't mind--that's what I say."
Having said this, the veteran warrior smiled a ghastly smile, as if the
idea of being so excruciatingly treated were rather pleasant than
otherwise.
"You're not hurt, I hope," inquired Hugh.
"Hurt! yes, I _am_ hurt--hurt in my feelings--not in my body, thanks to
my good sword and belt; but my feelings are injured. That villain, that
rascal, that pirate--as I verily believe him to be--selected me
specially for this service, I am persuaded, just because he knew me to
be unfit for it. Bah! but I'll pay him off for it. Come, boys,
forward--perhaps, in the circumstances, it would be more appropriate to
say, upward! We must go through with it now for our retreat is cut off.
Lead the way, Hugh, your eyes are younger and sharper than mine, and if
you chance to fall over a cliff, pray give a yell, like a good fellow,
so that I may escape your sad fate."
In the course of half an hour's rough scramble, the party gained the
crest of the Goat's Pass and descended in rear of the native village.
The country over which they had to travel, however, was so broken and so
beset with rugged masses of rock as to retard their progress
considerably, besides causing them to lose their way more than once. It
was thus daybreak before they reached the heights that overlooked the
village, and the shot from the _Avenger_ with the broad side from the
frigate was delivered just as they began to descend the hill.
Ole, therefore, pushed on with enthusiasm to attack the village in rear,
but he had not advanced half a mile when the peculiar, and to him
inexplicable, movements of the two vessels which have been already
described, took place, leaving the honest commander of the land forces
in a state of great perplexity as to what was meant by his naval allies,
and in much doubt as to what he ought to do.
"It seems to me," said he to his chiefs in a hastily summoned council of
war, "that we are all at sixes and sevens. I don't understand what
manoeuvres these naval men are up to and I doubt if they know
themselves. This being the case, and the fleet, (if I may so name it,)
having run away, it behoves us, my friends, to shew these sailors how we
soldiers do our duty. I would advise, therefore, that we should attack
at once. But as we are not a strong party, and as we know not how
strong the savages may be, I think it my duty before leading you on, to
ask your opinions on the point."
The officers whose opinions were thus asked were Hugh Barnes, already
mentioned; Terence Rigg the blacksmith of the settlement, and John
Thomson the carpenter. These, being strong of body, powerful of will,
and intelligent withal, had been appointed to the command of companies,
and when on duty were styled "captain" by their commanding officer, who
was, when on duty, styled "general" by them.
Ole Thorwald, be it remarked in passing, was a soldier at heart. Having
gone through a moderate amount of military education, and possessing
considerable talent in the matter of drill, he took special pride in
training the natives and the white men of the settlement to act in
concert and according to fixed principles. The consequence was that,
although his men were poorly armed, he had them under perfect command,
and could cause them to act unitedly at any moment.
The captains having been requested to give their opinions, Captain Rigg,
being senior, observed that his vote was for "goin' at 'em at wance,
neck or nothing," to which warlike sentiment he gave peculiar emphasis
by adding, "an' no mistake," in a very decided tone of voice.
"That's wot I says, too, General," said Captain Thomson, the carpenter.