SAM BARRINGFORD'S RUSE
The appearance of his old frontier friend gave Henry's hopes a bound
upward. He felt that he could rely upon Sam Barringford to do his utmost
for him in securing his release. He felt equally sure that Barringford
had been following the band for some time, trying to gain a chance to
rush in and cut his bonds.
It was true that Barringford numbered but one against nine, and would
have stood small chance against them in an open fight, but Henry knew
the old frontiersman too well to imagine that Barringford would thus
expose himself to a stray shot that might kill him. His friend had
learned the value of playing a "waiting game," and would do nothing rash
unless the occasion actually demanded it.
The best part of half an hour went by, and still the Indians remained
around the camp-fire, smoking and discussing the situation. Occasionally
one would glance toward Henry and perhaps raise a tomahawk
threateningly, meaning thereby that an attempt to escape would be
punishable by death. To these movements Henry paid no attention.
The young hunter's ears were on the alert, for he half expected that
Barringford might be coming up behind him to cut his bonds. At last he
heard his name mentioned in a low, guarded tone:
"Henry!"
"Sam," he returned, without apparently moving his lips.
"I'm right behind, lad. Do as I tell you and gittin' away may come easy.
I'll cut yer rawhides, but don't you attempt ter move till yer hear a
noise in the woods an' the Injuns run fer the spot. Then dust straight
back, an' I'll jine you fast as I kin. Do you understand?"
"Yes," answered Henry, as softly as before.
"All right. Now tell me when them measly critters ain't lookin'. I can't
see 'em from here."
After this there was a few minutes of silence. Henry watched the nine
redmen as never before. Several faced him, but now they turned away for
a moment and he communicated that fact to Sam Barringford.
Instantly a hand glided around the side of the tree and a sharp hunting
knife slid along the rawhides which bound the youth's hands and feet.
The bonds about the tree were already severed.
"Now I'm goin'," whispered Barringford. "Don't run till they ain't
a-noticin' of you--unless, o' course, they come straight at you."
As silently as he had come Sam Barringford retreated, keeping the tree
and some brushwood between himself and the enemy. Once more Henry was
left alone, and again many anxious minutes passed.
Suddenly from a distance up the stream came a shot, followed by another,
and then a well-known Indian war-whoop. The voice of a white man,
calling out loudly, was heard, followed by another war-cry, and a
crashing and splitting of a tree branch.
Throwing down their pipes all the Indians around the camp-fire leaped to
their feet and seized their weapons. With one accord they bounded up the
stream to learn what the encounter so close at hand could mean. The
war-whoop used was their own. Some of their own tribe must be making an
attack or must be in danger.
No sooner had the Indians turned to leave him than Henry dropped his
bonds and leaped behind the tree. With all possible speed he rushed
straight into the woods. As he progressed he jumped from one rock to
another, where this could be done, in order to leave as imperfect a
trail as possible.
He felt that the shots, the cries and the war-whoops, coupled with the
crashing of the tree branch, were all a part of the ruse employed by Sam
Barringford to make the Indians leave their captive, and in this he was
not mistaken. The Indians had gone off to a man, and now, when he felt
safe for the time being, Henry was sorry that he had not stopped long
enough to gain possession of his gun.
"I can't go back now," he muttered. "They'll return soon--or send one or
two back to watch me." He listened for a second. "Hullo! some of 'em are
back already! Now they'll make it warm for me, if they can!"
He pushed on until he heard a low but clear whistle, not unlike the
sound of certain night birds of that locality. He whistled in return and
soon saw the form of a man in the distance waving an arm for him to come
up.
"Fooled 'em nicely, didn't I?" chuckled Sam Barringford. "They lit out
soon as they heard thet war-whoop, didn't they?"
"They did," answered Henry. "But some of 'em are back, so we mustn't
lose any time getting away."
"Right you are, lad--'t won't do to try to fool 'em too much--it's too
much like playin' with the teeth o' a wildcat, now they hev their
war-paint on. O' course you know the hull country's riz, don't you?"
"Yes, and Risley's cabin has been burnt down and Mrs. Risley is a
captive I'm afraid."
"I'm a-feered fer your own folks, Henry. The Injuns is headed that way,
seems to me."
As they hurried on through the woods, with ears on the alert for the
possible appearance of the Indians left behind or of others, Henry told
his story, to which the old frontiersman listened with close attention.
In return Barringford related his own doings during the past forty-eight
hours.
"I was up to Timber Ridge, back o' Siler's place, lookin' fer deer, when
I spotted some o' the Injuns makin' fer the old meetin' ground. I made
up my mind they was up to no good, and so I followed 'em. They held a
meeting with Little Horn's warriors, and one of 'em had a message from
thet rascally Jean Bevoir who robbed yer uncle o' that trading-post on
the Kinotah, and the message said not to forget the Morris cabin in the
raid."
"Our cabin!" burst out Henry. "Then they will surely attack it."
"Yes, and jest because Jean Bevoir wants 'em to, Henry. Thet rascal
ought to be hung. He's wuss nor any redman, to my way o' thinkin'."
"Anyway, we can't get home too quick--at least I can't, Sam."
"I'm with you, Henry. Your folks are my best friends. Besides, I want to
learn what has become of Dave. You know what a sight I think o' him,"
concluded Barringford.
They advanced with caution until Henry felt compelled to rest. Then they
sat down by the edge of a tiny stream and here obtained a drink, and the
frontiersman washed and bound up Henry's wounded hand. At last they went
on once more, taking a semi-circle which brought them in sight of the
Morris cabin.
"Too late!" burst from Henry's lips, and his heart sank within him.
Against the early morning sky was a heavy cloud of smoke curling lazily
upward from the ruins of the cabin and the out-buildings. Around the
ruins half a dozen redmen were prowling, on the hunt for anything of
value which might have escaped their notice during the darkness of the
night.
"Yes, lad, we're too late," responded Barringford, mournfully. "I only
trust your folks escaped."
"Let--let us creep closer and see if there are any--any bodies lying
around," faltered the young hunter. He was so agitated he could scarcely
speak.
"Be careful what you do," was the warning. "Follow me--I think I know a
safe lookout place."
Barringford led the way, and presently they found themselves in a clump
of brushwood not over two hundred feet from the cabin. The brush was on
a rise of ground, so that they could survey the situation with ease.
"Nothing in sight," said Henry, after a long and painful pause. "What do
you say to that, Sam?"
"It's encouragin', lad. More'n likely your father got away with your
mother an' the others. I don't see none o' the hosses around. Thet's a
good sign, too. I believe they struck out fer Fort Lawrence or Will's
Creek--most likely the first, fer the trail to Will's Creek is
chuck-a-block with Injuns."
Feeling that nothing could be gained by remaining in the vicinity, they
started to retreat to the friendly shelter of the forest. They had
hardly covered a hundred yards, when Henry gave a cry of warning.
"An Indian! Coming straight for us!"
He was right, and a moment later a painted warrior confronted them. He,
too, was surprised at the meeting, but quick as a flash raised the
tomahawk he carried to strike Barringford down.
Had the blow landed as intended the frontiersman's skull would have been
split in twain. But if the Indian was quick Barringford was quicker. He
leaped to one side and in a twinkling had the warrior by the throat and
was bearing him backward. At the same moment Henry advanced.
"Never mind--I've got the consarned critter!" cried Barringford, as he
held the Indian in a grasp of steel. "See if more are a-comin'!"
Henry looked, but not another redman was in sight. The one in
Barringford's grasp squirmed and struggled and drew up a knee to plant
it against the frontiersman's breast. But even this did not break that
deadly grip, and now the Indian's tongue fairly lolled from his
wide-open mouth. He clutched Barringford's throat, but his hand was
thrown aside and the wrist pressed back until it was almost broken. Then
the Indian gave a strange gulp and suddenly collapsed in a heap.
"Thet settles his account," panted Barringford, as he staggered away.
"An' he didn't git no chance to make any noise nuther. Serves the
critter right, don't it?" And he led the way onward once more.
"Yes, it served him right," answered Henry, but even as he spoke he had
to shudder, and he wondered if the Indian was really dead or only partly
choked to death.
Having decided to move in the direction of Fort Lawrence, Sam
Barringford led the way by the very route Joseph Morris had pursued.
Both he and Henry were now exhausted by their long walk, and both would
have rested had it not been that they were so anxious to know how
matters were going at the fort. On they stumbled as best they could.
Each was hungry, yet neither complained on that score.
It was nearly noon when they heard a number of shots in the distance. A
fierce yelling followed, and the shooting was continued for the best
part of half an hour.
"The Indians have attacked the fort!" cried Henry. "A big battle must be
going on!"
"I reckon you are right, Henry. Come," and Barringford set off at an
increased rate of speed.
They did not go far, however, for only a little while later they heard a
murmur of voices ahead.
"An Injun camp," whispered Barringford. "Come, we'll go around," and he
moved to the left.
But here the way was also blocked by Indians. Then they made a wide
detour, only to find more warriors encamped between themselves and the
fort.
"The way's blocked," said the frontiersman at last. "The critters have
entirely surrounded the fort. We're out of it, and it looks as if we'd
have to stay out."