APPLE RIVER FORT
“We leave for Galena at once,” announced Joseph when he had finished
reading his communication.
“Good!” exclaimed Robert, immediately jumping to his feet. “At last we
are going to do something.”
“Who is ordered to go?” asked Mason.
“Why, Bob, Deerfoot and I,” replied Joseph. “I wish you were going too.”
“So do I,” exclaimed Mason. “I think I’ll see if I can arrange it.”
“Go on,” urged Robert. “Four is just the right number and we need you
along with us.”
“All right,” agreed Mason. “You three go get ready to start and I’ll see
what can be done. I hope I’ll be with you.”
“We do, too,” said Joseph eagerly. “We’ll see you soon.”
They hastened away and were soon busied with their preparations for the
journey. This task did not take long, however, and they were soon ready
to leave. They were engaged in saddling their horses when John Mason
rode joyously up to the spot where they were standing.
“It’s all right, boys,” he announced. “I am going with you.”
“Fine!” exclaimed Joseph and Robert in one breath. Deerfoot even relaxed
so far as to show that he too was pleased to have John Mason a member of
the party.
“Do you know where your errand is at Galena?” Mason inquired of Joseph.
“We are to take some dispatches to a Colonel Strode. Do you know him?”
“Yes, indeed. I think he is in command there, isn’t he?”
“I can’t say as to that,” replied Joseph. “At any rate he is the man we
are to see.”
“You haven’t got the dispatches yet, have you?” asked Robert.
“No. I am going after them now. I’ll meet you right here in about ten
minutes and then we’ll be all ready to start.”
The young volunteer swung himself gracefully into his saddle and a
moment later The Swallow was bearing him swiftly toward headquarters.
True to his word he was back again in ten minutes and without further
delay the four horsemen set out. They soon crossed the Rock River and
struck across country for Galena.
So long as enough light remained for them to see their way they kept on.
They had not started until late afternoon, however, so before a great
many miles had been covered it became necessary to call a halt. Camp was
pitched and preparations made for the night. Lots were drawn and the
night divided into four parts, each member of the party standing guard
for one quarter of the time. Though no sign of the enemy had been seen
it was felt to be very necessary to have a watch. Roving bands of Black
Hawk’s warriors infested the country and it was never possible to tell
just when and where they would be encountered.
Soon after daylight the journey was continued. The little band kept
close together and a sharp lookout was maintained at all times. They
followed the old trail from Chicago to Galena and toward noon came to
Kellogg’s Grove Fort, on Plum River. They stopped there for their
noonday meal and then soon after proceeded on their way. Excellent
progress was made and several hours before sundown they spied a small
blockhouse, called Apple River Fort, about fourteen miles east of
Galena.
“That’s Apple River Fort!” exclaimed John Mason as the sturdy little
building appeared in the distance. “We’ve made good time and we’ll be in
Galena before long.”
“If we reach there before dark it will be time enough,” said Joseph.
“Plenty of time,” agreed Mason. “Why——”
The sharp report of a rifle interrupted him. He was half turned about in
his saddle and held the reins loosely in one hand. His right hand rested
on his horse’s back as he looked around at his companions. The rifle
ball struck him squarely in the right forearm and nearly precipitated
him from the saddle. At the same time his horse jumped and only superb
horsemanship saved the man from being thrown to the ground.
“Are you hurt?” cried Robert anxiously.
“In the arm. It isn’t anything,” said Mason quickly.
“Can you ride all right?” demanded Joseph.
“Of course I can.”
“Then we’d better waste no time. Just look back there!”
One glance was sufficient. Behind them and coming on at full speed was a
war party of over one hundred Indians. Once more the two brothers heard
the war whoop resound over the plains and again they fled for their
lives.
“Make for the fort!” cried Mason. He set spurs to his horse and closely
followed by the three others raced for the blockhouse looming up before
them. The yells of the Indians sounded in their ears, while bullets cut
the air all about them.
Joseph soon outdistanced the others, owing to the superior speed of The
Swallow, and he was the first to arrive at the fort. His comrades were
not far behind, however, and as they came within the protection of the
stockade they were greeted by a cheer from the occupants who had watched
the thrilling race with breathless interest. At the same time a volley
from the rifles of the defenders caused the Indians to halt abruptly.
A moment later the four messengers were inside the fort and were
preparing to assist in its defense. Men, women and children were there,
all gathered from the nearby cabins and surrounding farms. John Mason’s
wound quickly received attention and was found to be not at all serious.
When it had been bathed and bound up he was even able to handle his gun.
“Whew! We reached here just in time, I should say,” exclaimed Joseph,
wiping his brow.
“Yes, but wasn’t that fun?” said Robert excitedly. “It certainly was
great sport racing those fellows.”
“Now that it’s over, it was all right,” agreed Joseph. “I’d hate to have
to do that every day though.”
“Let’s lend a hand here,” exclaimed Robert eagerly. “There are a couple
of portholes over there we can take care of. Look at Deerfoot; he is
already as busy as he can be.”
The inside of the fort presented a curious scene. At every porthole was
a man with a rifle. As fast as they could load they fired out at the
horde of yelling savages, who in turn were showering bullets on the
walls of the stockade. Powder was plentiful, but the defenders were
short of bullets. Fortunately a supply of lead had been received from
Galena only an hour before, however, and the women were now busied in
molding bullets. As fast as they could they melted the lead and molded
it into rifle balls. The men were gallant in their defense, but so also
were the women. They worked like beavers and had it not been for their
splendid efforts the fort must surely have fallen.
The Indians were on all sides. Every bit of cover seemed to hide one of
the red men. A steady fire was kept up against the fort, but, thanks to
the thickness and strength of its walls, the bullets could not
penetrate. At the same time the heroic efforts of its defenders kept the
Indians from attacking too recklessly.
An officer named Captain Stone was in command of the fort. He went from
one to another of the men, urging them to still greater efforts and
encouraging everyone by his air of quiet confidence and courage. Joseph
ran short of bullets and had gone for more. As he was receiving a fresh
supply, Captain Stone approached the spot where he was standing.
“That was a narrow escape you had, young man,” he remarked.
“Yes, sir,” replied Joseph, touching his cap. “We have had so many
lately, though, that we are sort of becoming used to them.”
“What is your name?” inquired Captain Stone.
“Joseph Hall.”
“Are you the young man who owns The Swallow?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve heard of you, then. You are famous all along the frontier. Were
you on The Swallow when you came in here?”
“Yes,” replied Joseph, much pleased by the captain’s remarks. “There
stands The Swallow right now.” And he pointed to a corner of the fort
where the horses were tethered.
“I must go and see him, when this fight is over. That is, if we win.”
“Of course we’ll win,” exclaimed Joseph. “Don’t you think so?”
“Unless they set fire to us.”
“You don’t think they’ll do that, do you? Why, they couldn’t get close
enough to us at any rate.”
“After dark they might. Still, I don’t believe they will,” Captain Stone
continued. “The blaze could be seen for miles and would bring a swarm of
troops down upon them in a very short time.”
Captain Stone hurried on and Joseph resumed his place at the porthole
once more. Every gun was needed, as the men in the fort numbered only
about twenty-five, while the Indians from all appearances had at least
four times that number. Several of the red men had been either killed or
wounded, for every few moments one of them could be seen being carried
off the field of battle. So far no one inside the fort had even been
wounded and the fight had been going on for at least a half-hour.
This happy state of affairs did not last long, however, for hardly had
Joseph returned to his post when a bullet penetrated the porthole next
to the one Robert defended. The man stationed there had just raised his
head to take aim when the bullet struck him. He fell back, and even
before the two boys could spring to his assistance, he died.
Almost at the same moment a man on the opposite side of the fort was
shot. He too had been peering out of the porthole, but fortunately the
ball just grazed his head, inflicting only a slight scalp wound. These
occurrences only served to increase the ardor of the defenders, however.
Every man returned to his task with renewed energy and the fire from the
fort continued even more furiously than before.
“Black Hawk out there,” said Deerfoot quietly to Joseph a few moments
later.
“What!” exclaimed Joseph. “Black Hawk himself?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?” demanded Joseph. “Did you see him yourself?”
“Me see him sure.”
“Show him to me.”
“No see him now,” said Deerfoot.
“Did you hear that, Bob?” cried Joseph. “Deerfoot says he saw Black Hawk
himself out there.”
“You did?” cried Robert excitedly to Deerfoot. “Show him to me and let
me take a shot at him.”
“Me take shot at him,” said Deerfoot. “No hit him though. He gone now.”
“All the others seem to be leaving too,” exclaimed Joseph, after a
careful glance out of the porthole which he was guarding.
Sure enough, the Indians did appear to be withdrawing. Their fire was
slackening and they evidently were convinced that the sacrifice
necessary to take the fort would not be worth while. Everywhere they
appeared to be retreating. Loud yells of triumph sounded from sturdy
little Apple River Fort as its defenders saw their enemy moving away.
The white men did not escape loss, however. Even from the fort the
Indians could be seen pillaging the nearby houses and barns. Cattle and
horses that could not be moved inside the stockade were being driven
away, and the Indians were loading the horses with bags of provisions
taken from the storehouses of the settlers.
“That can’t be helped, I’m afraid,” remarked Captain Stone when he heard
what was going on. “We still have our lives and we ought to count
ourselves lucky. Certainly they are worth more than a few cattle and
some provisions.”
Everyone else seemed to share this view, though at first a few of the
more daring ones had been eager to sally out and continue the contest.
They were soon persuaded that such an undertaking would be foolhardy,
however, and were content to remain where they were.
Joseph still had his dispatches for Colonel Strode and he was at a loss
as to what he should do about them. Finally he decided to ask Captain
Stone.
“Don’t even think of going now!” exclaimed that officer, when Joseph
asked his opinion about pushing on that night. “Why, it’s almost dark
now and you don’t know how many of those Indians are still lurking
about. I consider that you’ve done enough for today. By all means wait
until morning before you even consider leaving here.”
This advice Joseph reported to his three companions, who all agreed with
Captain Stone. Even Robert thought it might be advisable to wait. It was
so decided and they immediately made preparations to spend the night at
Apple River Fort.