The course of Stackpole was through the woods, in a direction immediately
opposite to that by which Roland had ridden to his assistance.
"He is going to the Lower Ford," said Telie, anxiously. "It is not too
late for us to follow him. If there are Indians in the wood, it is the
only way to escape them!"
"And why should we believe there _are_ Indians in the wood?" demanded
Roland; "because that half-mad rogue, made still madder by his terrors,
saw something which his fancy converted into the imaginary Nick of the
Woods? You must give me a better reason than that, my good Telie, if you
would have me desert the road. I have no faith in your Jibbenainosays."
But a better reason than her disinclination to travel it, and her fears
lest, if Indians were abroad, they would be found lying in ambush at the
upper and more frequented pass of the river, the girl had none to give;
and, in consequence, Roland (though secretly wondering at her
pertinacity, and still connecting it in thought with his oft-remembered
dream), expressing some impatience at the delays they had already
experienced, led the way back to the buffalo-road, resolved to prosecute
it with vigour. But fate had prepared for him other and more serious
obstructions.
He had scarce regained the path, before he became sensible, from the
tracks freshly printed in the damp earth, that a horseman, coming from
the very river towards which he was bending his way, had passed by whilst
he was engaged in the wood liberating the horse-thief. This was a
circumstance that both pleased and annoyed him. It was so far agreeable,
as it seemed to offer the best proof that the road was open, with none of
those dreadful savages about it, who had so long haunted the brain of
Telie Doe. But what chiefly concerned the young soldier was the knowledge
that he had lost an opportunity of inquiring after his friends, and
ascertaining whether they had really pitched their camp on the banks of
the river; a circumstance which he now rather hoped than dared to be
certain of, the tempest not seeming to have been so violent in that
quarter as, of a necessity, to bring the company to a halt. If they had
_not_ encamped in the expected place, but, on the contrary, had continued
their course to the appointed Station, he saw nothing before him but the
gloomy prospect of concluding his journey over an unknown road, after
night-fall, or returning to the Station he had left, also by night; for
much time had been lost by the various delays, and the day was now
declining fast.
These considerations threw a damp over his spirits, but taught him the
necessity of activity; and he was, accordingly, urging his little party
forward with such speed as he could, when there was suddenly heard at a
distance on the rear the sound of fire-arms, as if five or six pieces
were discharged together, followed by cries not less wild and alarming
than those uttered by the despairing horse-thief.
These bringing the party to a stand, the quick ears of the soldier
detected the rattling of hoofs on the road behind, and presently their
came rushing towards them with furious speed a solitary horseman, his
head bare, his locks streaming in the wind, and his whole appearance
betraying the extremity of confusion and terror; which was the more
remarkable, as he was well mounted and armed with the usual rifle, knife,
and hatchet of the back-woodsman. He looked as if flying from pursuing
foes, his eyes being cast backwards, and that so eagerly that he failed
to notice the party of wondering strangers drawn up before him on the
road, until saluted by a halloo from Roland; at which he checked his
steed, looking for an instant ten times more confounded and frightened
than before.
"You tarnation critturs!" he at last bawled, with the accents of one
driven to desperation, "if there a'n't no dodging you, then there
_a'n't_. Here's for you, you everlasting varmints--due your darndest!"
With that he clubbed his rifle, and advanced towards the party in what
seemed a paroxysm of insane fury, brandishing the weapon and rolling his
eyes with a ferocity that could have only arisen from his being in that
happy frame of mind which is properly termed "frightened out of fear."
"How, you villain!" said Roland, in amazement, "do you take us for wild
Indians?"
"What, by the holy hokey, and _a'n't_ you?" cried the stranger, his rage
giving way to the most lively transports; "Christian men!" he exclaimed
in admiration, "and one of 'em a niggur, and two of em wimming! oh hokey!
You're Capting Forrester, and I've heerd on you! Thought there was
nothing in the wood but Injuns, blast their ugly picturs! and blast him,
Sy Jones, as was, that brought me among 'em! And now I'm talking of 'em,
Capting, don't stop to ax questions, but run,--cut and run, Capting, for
there's an everlasting sight of 'em behind me!--six of 'em, Capting, or
my name a'n't Pardon Dodge,--six of 'em,--all except one, and _him_ I
shot, the blasted crittur! for, you see, they followed me behind, and
they cut me off before: and there was no dodging 'em,--(Dodge's my name,
and dodging's my natur')--without getting lost in the woods; and it was
either losing myself or my scalp; and so that riz my ebenezer, and I
banged the first of 'em all to smash--if I didn't, then it a'n't no
matter!"
"What, in Heaven's name," said Roland, overcome by the man's volubility
and alarm together,--"what means all this? Are there Indians behind us?"
"Five of 'em, and the dead feller,--shocking long-legged crittur he
was; jumped out of a bush, and seized me by the bridle--hokey! how he
skeared me!--Gun went off of her own accord, and shot him into bits as
small as fourpence-ha'pennies. Then there was a squeaking and squalling,
and the hull of e'm let fly at me; and then, I cut on the back track,
and they took and took atter; and I calculate, if we wait here a quarter
of a minute longer, they will be on us jist like devils and roaring
lions.--But where shall we run? You can't gin us a hint how to make way
through the woods?--Shocking bad woods to be lost in! Bad place here for
talking, Capting,--right 'twixt two fires,--six Injuns behind (and one of
'em dead), and an almighty passel before,--the Ford's full on 'em!"
"What!" said Roland, "did you pass the Ford? and is not Colonel Johnson,
with his emigrants, there?"
"Not a man on 'em; saw 'em streaking through the mud, half way to
Jackson's. Everlasting lying critturs, them emigrants! told me there was
no Injuns on the road! when what should I do but see a hull grist on 'em
dodging among the bushes at the river, to surround me, the tarnation
critturs. But I kinder had the start on 'em, and I whipped, and I cut,
and I run, and I dodged. And so says I, 'I've beat you, you tarnation
scalping varmints!' when up jumps that long-legged feller, and the five
behind him; and, blast 'em, that riz my corruption. And I--"
"In a word," said Roland, impatiently, and with a stern accent, assumed
perhaps to reassure his kinswoman, whom the alarming communications of
the stranger, uttered in an agony of terror and haste, filled with an
agitation which she could not conceal, "you have seen Indians, or you say
you have. If you tell the truth, there is no time left for deliberation;
if a falsehood--"
"Why should we wait upon the road to question and wonder?" said Telie
Doe, with a boldness and firmness that at another moment would have
excited surprise; "why should we wait here, while the Indians may be
approaching? The forest is open, and the Lower Ford is free."
"If you can yet lead us thither," said Roland, eagerly, "all is not yet
lost. We can neither advance nor return. On, maiden, for the love of
Heaven!"
These hasty expressions revealed to Edith the deep and serious light in
which her kinsman regarded their present situation, though at first
seeking to hide his anxiety under a veil of composure. In fact, there was
not an individual present on whom the fatal news of the vicinity of the
redman had produced a more alarming impression than on Roland. Young,
bravo, acquainted with war, and accustomed to scenes of blood and peril,
it is not to be supposed that he entertained fear on his own account; but
the presence of one whom he loved, and whom he would have rescued from
danger, at any moment, at the sacrifice of his own life thrice over, was
enough to cause, and excuse, a temporary fainting of spirit, and a desire
to fly the scene of peril, of which, under any other circumstances, he
would have been heartily ashamed. The suddenness of the terror--for up to
the present moment he had dreamed of no difficulty comprising danger, or
of no danger implying the presence of savages in the forest--had somewhat
shocked his mind from its propriety, and left him in a manner unfitted to
exercise the decision and energy so necessary to the welfare of his
feeble and well-nigh helpless followers. The vastness of his
embarrassment, all disclosed at once,--his friends and fellow-emigrants
now far away; the few miles which he had, to the last, hoped separated
him from them, converted into leagues; Indian enemies at hand; advance
and retreat both alike cut off; and night approaching fast, in which,
without a guide, any attempt to retreat through the wild forest would be
as likely to secure his destruction as deliverance;--these were
circumstances that crowded into his mind with benumbing effect,
engrossing his faculties, when the most active use of them was essential
to the preservation of his party.
It was at this moment of weakness and confusion, while uttering what was
meant to throw some little discredit over the story of Dodge, to abate
the terrors of Edith, that the words of Telie Doe fell on his ears,
bringing both aid and hope to his embarrassed spirits. _She_, at least,
was acquainted with the woods; she, at least, could conduct him, if not
to the fortified Station he had left (and bitterly now did he regret
having left it), to the neglected ford of the river, which her former
attempts to lead him thither, and the memory of his dream, caused him now
to regard as a city of refuge pointed out by destiny itself.
"You shall have your way, at last, fair Telie," he said, with a laugh,
but not with merriment: "Fate speaks for you; and whether I will or not,
we must go to the Lower Ford"
"You will never repent it," said the girl, the bright looks which she had
worn for the few moments she was permitted to control the motions of the
party, returning to her visage, and seeming to emanate from a rejoicing
spirit;--"they will not think of waylaying us at the Lower Ford."
With that, she darted into the wood, and, followed by the others,
including the new-comer, Dodge, was soon at a considerable distance from
the road.
"Singular," said Roland to Edith, at whose rein he now rode, endeavouring
to remove her terrors, which, though she uttered no words, were
manifestly overpowering,--"singular that the girl should look so glad and
fearless, while we are, I believe, all horribly frightened. It is,
however, a good omen. When one so timorous as she casts aside fear, there
is little reason for others to be frighted."
"I hope,--I hope so," murmured Edith. "But--but I have had my omens,
Roland, and they were evil ones. I dreamed--You smile at me!"
"I do," said the soldier, "and not more at your joyless tones, my fair
cousin, than at the coincidence of our thoughts. _I_ dreamed (for I
also have had my visions) last night, that some one came to me and
whispered in my ear to 'cross the river at the Lower Ford, the Upper
being dangerous.' Verily, I shall hereafter treat my dreams with respect.
I suppose,--I hope, were it only to prove we have a good angel in
common,--that you dreamed the same thing."
"No,--it was not that," said Edith, with a sad and anxious countenance.
"It was a dream that has always been followed by evil. I dreamed--. But
it will offend you, cousin?"
"What!" said Roland, "a dream? You dreamed perhaps that I forgot both
wisdom and affection, when, for the sake of this worthless beast,
Briareus, I drew you into difficulty and peril?"
"No, no," said Edith, earnestly, and then added in a low voice, "I
dreamed of Richard Braxley!"
"Curse him!" muttered the youth, with tones of bitter passion: "it is to
him we owe all that now afflicts us,--poverty and exile, our distresses
and difficulties, our fears and our dangers. For a wooer," he added, with
a smile of equal bitterness, "methinks he has fallen on but a rough way
of proving his regard. But you dreamed of him. Well, what was it? He came
to you with the look of a beaten dog, fawned at your feet, and displaying
that infernal will, 'Marry me,' quoth he, 'fair maid, and I will be a
greater rascal than before,--I will burn this will, and consent to enjoy
Roland Forrester's lands and houses in right of my wife, instead of
claiming them in trust for an heir no longer in the land of the living.'
Cur!--and but for you, Edith, I would have repaid his insolence as it
deserved. But you ever intercede for your worst enemies. There is that
confounded Stackpole, now: I vow to heaven, I am sorry I cut the rascal
down!--But you dreamed of Braxley! What said the villain?"
"He said," replied Edith, who had listened mournfully, but in silence, to
the young man's hasty expressions, like one who was too well acquainted
with the impetuosity of his temper to think of opposing him in his angry
moments, or perhaps because her spirits were too much subdued by her
fears to allow her to play the monitress,--"He said, and frowningly too,
'that soft words were with him the prelude to hard resolutions, and that
where he could not win as the turtle, he could take his prey like a
vulture;'--or some such words of anger. Now, Roland, I have twice before
dreamed of this man, and on each occasion a heavy calamity ensued, and
that on the following day. I dreamed of him the night before our uncle
died. I dreamed a second time, and the next day he produced and recorded
the will that robbed us of our inheritance. I dreamed of him again last
night; and what evil is now hovering over us I know not;--but, it is
foolish of me to say so,--yet my fears tell me it will be something
dreadful."
"Your fears, I hope, will deceive you," said Roland, smiling in spite of
himself at this little display of weakness on the part of Edith. "I have
much confidence in this girl, Telie, though I can scarce tell why. A free
road and a round gallop will carry us to our journey's end by nightfall;
and, at the worst, we shall have bright starlight to light us on. Be
comforted, my cousin. I begin heartily to suspect yon cowardly Dodge, or
Dodger, or whatever he calls himself, has been imposed upon by his fears,
and that he has actually seen no Indians at all. The springing up of a
bush from under his horse's feet, and the starting away of a dozen
frighted rabbits, might easily explain his conceit of the long-legged
Indian, and his five murderous accomplices; and as for the savages seen
in ambush at the Ford, the shaking of the cane-brake by the breeze, or by
some skulking bear, would as readily account for them. The idea of his
being allowed to pass a crew of Indians in their lair, without being
pursued, or even fired upon, is quite preposterous."
These ideas, perhaps devised to dispel his kinswoman's fears, were scarce
uttered before they appeared highly reasonable to the inventor himself;
and he straightway rode to Dodge's side, and began to question him more
closely than he had before had leisure to do, in relation to those
wondrous adventures, the recounting of which had produced so serious a
change in the destination of the party. All his efforts, however, to
obtain satisfactory confirmation of his suspicion were unavailing. The
man, now in a great measure relieved of his terrors, repeated his story
with a thousand details, which convinced Roland that it was, in its chief
features, correct. That he had actually been attacked, or fired upon by
some persons, Roland could not doubt, having heard the shots himself. As
to the ambush at the Ford, all he could say was, that he had actually
seen several Indians,--he knew not the number,--stealing through the wood
in the direction opposite the river, as if on the outlook for some
expected party,--Captain Forrester's, he supposed, of which he had heard
among the emigrants; and that this giving him the advantage of the
first discovery, he had darted ahead with all his speed, until arrested
at an unexpected moment by the six warriors, whose guns and voices had
been heard by the party.
Besides communicating all the information which he possessed on these
points, he proceeded, without waiting to be asked, to give an account of
his own history; and a very lamentable one it was. He was from the
Down-East country, a representative of the Bay State, from which he had
been seduced by the arguments of his old friend Josiah Jones, to go "a
pedlering" with the latter to the new settlements in the West; where the
situation of the colonists, so far removed from all markets, promised
uncommon advantages to the adventurous trader. These had been in a
measure realised on the Upper Ohio; but the prospect of superior gains in
Kentucky had tempted the two friends to extend their speculations
further; and in an evil hour they embarked their assorted notions and
their own bodies in a flatboat on the Ohio; in the descent of which it
was their fortune to be stripped of every thing, after enduring risks
without number, and daily attacks from, Indians lying in wait on the
banks of the river, which misadventures had terminated in the capture of
their boat, and the death of Josiah, the unlucky projector of the
expedition. Pardon himself barely escaping with his life. These
calamities were the more distasteful to the worthy Dodge, whose
inclinations were of no warlike cast, and whose courage never rose to the
fighting point, as he freely professed, until goaded into action by sheer
desperation. He had "got enough," as he said, "of the everlasting Injuns,
and of Kentucky, where there was such a shocking deal of 'em that a
peaceable trader's scalp was in no more security than a rambling
scout's;" and cursing his bad luck, and the memory of the friend who had
cajoled him into ruin, difficulty, and constant danger, his sole desire
was now to return to the safer lands of the East, which he expected to
effect most advantageously by advancing to some of the South-eastern
stations, and throwing himself in the way of the first band of militia
whose tour of duty in the district was completed, and who should be
about to return to their native state. He had got enough of the Ohio as
well as the Indians; the wilderness-road possessed fewer terrors, and
therefore appeared to his imagination the more eligible route of escape.