The Search for Dick
Ben Foster kept struggling on through the woods and darkness for quite a
while, and then, not hearing any sounds of pursuit, he paused and
listened intently for a few moments, after which he gave a low, but
penetrating whistle, the same signal that the three youths often used.
If Dick were within two or three hundred yards, he would hear and reply
to the signal.
There came no reply, however, and after waiting a few minutes, Ben
whistled again, with the same result.
Then he set out through the forest, but did not go far, before stopping
again.
“I’m not going any farther till I know where Dick is,” he murmured, “He
may have gotten into trouble, may have fallen and knocked his head
against a tree and fallen into the hands of the redskins again. I’ll
stay here till morning, and then see if I can find him.”
Ben found a place at the foot of a big tree, and lying down, was soon
asleep. He slept till morning, and then sat up and looked around him.
All was quiet, and there were neither redskins nor redcoats in sight.
Ben drew a sigh of relief. He had feared that he might see enemies in
the vicinity.
But, what should he do? In which direction should he go? He did not know
where to look for Dick, and so he decided to start back in the direction
from which he had come in escaping from the Indian village. It would be
somewhat dangerous to venture back to the vicinity of the village, but
Ben was determined to find Dick, if possible. He feared his comrade had
been recaptured by the redskins, and if this were the case, it should be
his business to rescue him.
Ben had taken only a few steps, however, when he caught sight of a party
of patriots coming toward him, as he could tell by their blue uniforms.
“There comes one of the parties sent out by General Greene!” thought
Ben, with a feeling of delight. “Now I can guide them to the Indian
village, and they can put the redskins to rout and rescue Dick, if he is
there.”
He hastened to meet the soldiers, and when he met them, he found that
one was his own company, under the command of Captain Morgan. The
captain was naturally somewhat surprised to see Ben, but was glad, and
asked if he could give him any news regarding the whereabouts of
Indians.
“Indeed I can,” was the reply. “Dick and myself were captured by a party
of redskins, and they were about to burn us at the stake, but somebody
slipped up and cut the ropes binding us to the trees, and we managed to
get away. But we got separated in the darkness, and I don’t know where
Dick is.”
“When was that?”
“Last night.”
“How far is the Indian village from here?” the captain asked.
“About ten or twelve miles, I should judge, sir.”
“You can guide us thither?”
“I am sure that I can, sir.”
“Very good, lead the way, and we will get to the village as quickly as
circumstances will permit. If Dick Dare was recaptured and taken back to
the village, he may be in danger, and we will endeavor to rescue him.”
“True, sir.”
They set out at once, with Ben in the lead, as guide. Captain Morgan was
right behind Ben, and then after them came the soldiers, Tim Murphy and
Fritz Schmockenburg being close to the captain and Ben. These two liked
Dick immensely, and were worried for fear something serious had happened
to him.
After a walk of about three and a half or four hours, Ben called a halt
and said that the Indian village was within half a mile of the spot
where they were standing.
“We had better advance slowly and cautiously,” he advised, and the
captain so ordered.
Presently they came in sight of the village, and at the same moment they
were discovered and a wild yell went up from the lips of an Indian brave
that had been standing guard. This was the alarm signal to his fellow
braves in the village, and instantly there was a great skurrying around
among the redskins, as they hastened this way and that, trying to get
together for the purpose of offering battle to the soldiers.
When they saw how large a number they had to contend with, however, they
quickly decided that prudence was the better part of valor, and took to
their heels, and after them went the patriot soldiers, firing as they
ran, and dropping quite a number of the savages, dead or wounded.
The soldiers pursued the Indians as long as they could see any of them,
and then they returned to the village, and began looking in the various
wigwams, to see if Dick Dare was there, a prisoner.
They did not find him in any of the wigwams, and when Captain Morgan
made inquiries of an old Indian, who had remained behind with the squaws
and papooses, and who could speak a few words of English, he was
informed that neither of the white young men who had been at the torture
stake the night before, and had escaped, had been recaptured. Captain
Morgan was somewhat relieved to hear this. But he was still anxious
regarding the fate of Dick. He felt that the youth had gotten into
danger of some kind.
The soldiers buried the Indians that had been killed, carried the
wounded ones into the wigwams, and left them there for the squaws to
doctor up. Then the soldiers again set out, with the intention of trying
to locate Dick Dare, and rescue him, if he had fallen into the hands of
another party of Indians.
They made their way slowly through the woods, and spread out, fan-shape,
so as to cover as large a territory as practical. If Dick were anywhere
in that part of the country, they would find him, they were certain.
But although they put in the rest of the day, practically searching for
Dick, they did not find him, nor did they encounter any Indians. It is
likely that the redskins had heard about the attack on the village, and
kept out of the way.
Ben was greatly worried about their failure to find Dick or learn
anything regarding his whereabouts. He was worried, too, about the
whereabouts of Tom. He and Dick had started out to look for Tom, and had
themselves been made prisoners, had very nearly been burned at the
stake, had become separated in their flight from the redskins, and now
Dick’s whereabouts was not known. Thus both the Dare boys were missing,
and their friends feared that both were in serious trouble, somewhere,
though where, was the difficulty.
“Perhaps we may find Dick to-morrow,” said Ben.
“Sure an’ Oi hope thot we may foind ’im, Ben,” replied Tim Murphy. “It’s
a foine bye Dick is.”
“Yah, Dick and Tom are both fine poys, alretty,” said Fritz
Schmockenburg. “Und I hope dot ve find dem to-morrow.”
“Oi wish we could foind thim as aisy as ye can foind woildcats whin
standin’ guard, Fritz,” chuckled Tim, and then he told Ben the story of
how Fritz had heard a noise, thought the Indians were coming to attack
the camp, and had fired a shot and rushed into the encampment, yelling
that the Indians were coming, and that when they had gone and looked at
the point where Fritz had fired the shot, they had found a dead wildcat.
Ben laughed, and then said: “Well, if it had been an Indian, you would
have settled his account, Fritz.”
“Yah, dot is so,” nodded Fritz, grinning.
Next morning the patriot soldiers again began searching for Dick, at the
same time keeping their eyes open for Indians, but did not find either,
and after eating their luncheon at noon, they set out toward the patriot
encampment in Peaceful Valley, as they were expected to report there
that evening.
It was almost dark when they arrived at the encampment, and the other
two companies were already there. They had found two or three Indian
villages, had killed and wounded a number of Indians and put the rest to
flight, as Captain Morgan’s force had done. They had not seen anything
of Dick or Tom Dare.
General Greene was somewhat worried over the fact that Dick and Tom were
missing, for he liked the youths, and feared that they had met with
death at the hands of the redskins.
“We will break camp here in the morning, however,” he told his officers,
“and will march upon Fort Ninety-Six. Possibly we may find the Dare Boys
somewhere in that neighborhood. Dick may have continued onward in that
direction to look for his brother Tom.”
“True,” agreed Captain Morgan. “I hope we may find them alive and well.”