A RECKLESS ADVENTURE.—CAPTURE OF TEDDY.—A VISIT TO THE
FLAT-BOAT.—THOUGHTS OF RESCUE.
Teddy announced that he intended visiting the boat for the further
purpose of “detecting the apparance of things generally.”
“You won’t do any such thing,” said Smith somewhat impatiently. “You
have already made a fool of yourself several times.”
“Be the same token I must then remain one, I suppose.”
“I object,” said the hunter, shaking his head, “it can’t do any good,
and it _may_ do a mighty sight of hurt.”
“And haow?”
“I will tell you. The redskins know that we three are bobbing round the
island, and so long as they know that, they will give us a wide berth.
They know that we’ve got some women with us, and a few more rifles too,
but it’s we three that are keeping them away. S’pose one of us gets tuk,
what’ll hinder ’em longer?”
“’Spose one of ’em doesn’t get tuck.”
“He will then be killed.”
“But there are no Injins there.”
It is a fact, that a man may commence with an assertion of absolute
falsehood and, conscious at the beginning that he is defending such,
argue himself in time, into the belief that it is truth. Then it was
that Teddy, as he stepped gaily out upon the beach, was greatly relieved
of anxiety by his own persistency in adhering to what he well knew was
error. He was well nigh convinced of what he had scarcely a hope before,
that there were no savages upon the flat-boat.
Teddy had walked two-thirds of the distance to the hulk, and was within
a few feet of the water, when he paused. He had discovered a startling
thing!
That which arrested the brave-hearted Irishman, was the sight of a tuft
of an Indian’s head, visible for one moment only just above the gunwale,
when it dropped suddenly from view again.
Smith and Napyank, noticing his hesitation, called out in a whisper for
him to return. This very call was the means of sending him forward
again. He was resolved that they should never laugh at this adventure,
and with rather a quickened step, he strode forward, and grasping the
gunwale with one hand, he carried himself with one bound, over upon the
deck.
He had left his rifle behind, and was armed only with his knife. His two
friends breathlessly watched him and listened. They saw his head and
shoulders gradually lower as he walked undauntedly toward the stern of
the boat, until the bow hid them from sight, and then all was still.
The silence lasted for perhaps, a full minute, and then was broken by a
yell as startling and terrific as an explosion of thunder in the clear
summer sky. Instantly a half dozen tufted heads was seen dodging hither
and thither over the deck, all centering around one burly, bareheaded
figure, that was struggling like a lion amid a score of enemies which
had dogged him nigh to death.
While the two men gazed transfixed with horror, a powerful-limbed Indian
shot up like a rocket in midair, and came down in the river. Ere he had
struck, another went spinning after him, falling flat on his face in the
water, with a concussion that cracked like a pistol. While they were
swimming with all speed, back to the boat, a heavy fall was heard, a
faint shuffling noise, and then all was still.
As the foremost Indian was in the act of pulling himself over the
gunwale of the flat-boat, he let go with a horrid whoop, and fell back
dead, shot through the brain by a bullet from the rifle of the hunter.
The other attempted to swim behind the stern, but Smith shot him ere it
could be accomplished.
There could be but one cause for the sudden cessation of the tumult upon
the flat-boat. Teddy had either been overcome or slain. The silence that
succeeded the fearful yell and struggle was equally painful to his two
friends. They waited long and impatiently for it to be broken.
“It’s all up with him,” whispered Smith, as he primed his rifle. “I pity
him, but our hands are clear of his blood.”
“Too bad, too bad,” muttered Joe, who had just loaded his rifle, “he was
a good fellow, my dear Teddy was indeed. I am sorry that he has come to
this bad end.”
“We must look out for ourselves, now. The best thing we can do, is to
get off this infernal island, which has been the scene of so much
misfortune to us, I am afraid that if we remain much longer, you will
take it into your head to perform some such feat, and I shall be left
alone.”
“No, indeed, I won’t; there is no danger of that,” replied Joe. “I’ve
lived long enough to larn common sense I think.”
“It is yet early in the forenoon, and I suppose we shall be compelled to
remain here until night.”
“Of course we shall! It won’t do to start out in the river in open
daylight. We’d be killed before we had gone a dozen yards.”
“Hello! did you hear that?” exclaimed Smith, with a start.
Several whoops were heard upon the Kentucky shore, apparently in answer
to those which had been uttered some minutes before, by the captors of
Teddy. Peering through the trees, Smith added,
“There is a party coming off in a canoe. Get ready for hot work.”
“There don’t seem to be any good chance to hide,” remarked Joe, glancing
around him, as though he cared little whether there was such place or
not.
“No, we must stand our ground; they have just started.”
The canoe which was approaching was a large Indian one, in which were
seated some three or four Indians, all busily plying their paddles. They
headed straight for the upper end of the island, while the whites stood
each behind a tree, with cocked rifles, waiting until they were
compelled to fire.
Just as the canoe seemed about to touch, it sheered off and ran
alongside of the flat-boat, where it lay against and parallel to it. The
heads of four savages immediately appeared above, as though they were
staggering under the weight of some heavy load. The next second, Teddy,
bound hand and foot, was handed over and deposited in the bottom of the
canoe. His friends could hear him muttering dire threats of vengeance,
and daring his captors to loose him for a moment, all of which, it is
needless to say, attracted no notice whatever from them.
The captive disposed of, the Indians followed, sinking the canoe to its
very gunwales. They paddled away toward the shore, and in a few moments,
disappeared from view.
“Now, at least,” said Smith, “the island and boat are free from the
imps, and we can have a breathing spell. Let us go upon the old hulk.”
“What in the world do you want to do that for?”
“It is the safest place.”
“I should like to inquire how it is.”
“In the first place, there is no one upon it, and in the second place,
as its sides are bullet-proof, we can use it as a fort, and keep off any
number of foe until dark, when we can get off ourselves.”
The hunter smiled grimly as if the conceit of the young man pleased him.
Adding that it was time they paid their friends a visit, he consented to
young Smith’s proposition.
It was with some misgiving, slight enough, but still sufficient to
occasion uneasiness, that the young man once more approached the
flat-boat. When he reached the deck, he experienced an irresistible
desire to explore every portion of it; not that he suspected the
presence of any Indian, but that he could not feel positively assured,
until he had done so. The result was, that it was found to be entirely
destitute of any persons except themselves. The cabin was half full of
water, and it was here that the Indians had concealed themselves while
their victim was approaching.
This proceeding of the two men, in taking possession of the old craft,
was the most prudent thing he could have done. Had the two remained upon
the island, they both would have been captured or shot, and the
destruction of the entire party completed; but, as one had remarked,
they had gained a fort where they could keep ten times their number at
bay.
To the infinite joy of both, Joe stumbled upon a loaf of bread, which
had escaped the eyes of the Indians. He pounced upon it greedily, and to
the two famished adventurers, it was a perfect godsend. This devoured,
and their hunger appeased—for it was an old fashioned loaf—both felt
hopeful again.
“If there were anything in the hulk,” said Smith, “we might stand a
regular siege, and bid defiance to the whole redskin nation.”
“There ain’t a single bit more,” replied Joe, “except a few crumbs upon
that shelf there.”
“Gather them up, gather them up; they may do us good.”
“I have gathered them up. I thought they’d git wasted, so I jest rolled
my tongue about the cupboard, and finished ’em.”
During this fragmentary conversation, Joe was constantly glancing about
the river to see that no foe approached them unaware. The sad experience
of the last few hours, had educated young Smith wonderfully. All this
time, the reader will have noticed, his actions were controlled simply
by necessity; he had taken no step except such as had been compelled by
a regard for his own personal safety. Now, that that was attended to, he
had leisure to look further into the future, and to reflect upon some
definite plan for the rescue of Ruth from the hands of the savages.
This was the great question, and it was this which troubled him sorely.
He could not think of leaving the neighborhood while she was a prisoner;
and yet he could see nothing at all, that he was able to accomplish
against the formidable band of savages. Although he pitied Teddy from
the bottom of his heart, it could not be suspected that under the
present circumstances, he could do anything toward his rescue.
Somehow or other, the thought constantly recurred to the young man, that
something important would result from the fact that the Irishman was a
fellow-captive with her. He was bold to recklessness, quick-witted, and
faithful, and more from the natural kindness of his disposition, than a
desire to return the interest shown in his own welfare, would he do all
in his power, to befriend the helpless captive.
There were two schemes that Smith and the hunter thought long and
earnestly upon. The first was to leave the flat-boat as soon as the
darkness would permit, and accompanied by all the remaining fugitives
make all haste to the settlement, and rally a large party of the
frontiermen, who would be able to overcome the entire force of the
Indians.
The main objection to the proceeding was, that it required too much time
for its execution. Ere the party could be raised the savages would have
penetrated so far into the labyrinths of the wilderness as to make
pursuit hopeless. If they chose they would have abundant time to reach
one of their towns, where it would require an army to dislodge them.
The other plan and the one which the ardent adventurer most favored,
was, to attempt to regain her by stratagem—to cross over to the
mainland, and to hang constantly in the vicinity of the savages, keeping
a watch upon their movements, and trusting to his own quick perception
and promptness of action, when the all-important occasion arrived.
The more he reflected, the more he was pleased with this project, and he
finally imparted it a final resolution to his friend.
“It’s running a great risk,” replied the latter, scratching his head;
“but I don’t see any other way of getting the gal; I’m with you in
whatever you want to do. You’re considerable green I allow, but you’ve
larned a powerful lot in the last day or two, and I think could manage
it. But jist now I’m right hungry.”
“We will find means to obtain that when we once get into the woods. For
the present we must bear our hunger patiently, and thank God we’re not
dependent upon the Indians for food.”
“I should like to inquire what time you think it is?”
“It must be considerably advanced in the afternoon,” replied Smith,
looking up at the sky. “The weather still remains clear, and there is no
evidence of an approaching storm. I am glad that there will be no moon
to-night. What we want is darkness—darkness.”
The afternoon gradually wore away, the sun went down, and evening once
more settled upon wood and river. The same silence as profound as the
tomb, held reign, and cautiously and silently the two whites let
themselves down from the flat-boat, and made their preparations to leave
the island, which had been the scene of such woe and suffering to their
little party.