BACK TO WINCHESTER
At last the battle seemed to be at an end. Only a few shots sounded out
and they came from a distance. The fire in the forest had died down and,
thanks to an all-powerful Providence it had failed to give the Indians
the success they had sought. It was true a number of the pioneers and
soldiers had been badly wounded, but none were killed, while on the
other hand seven redskins had been laid low.
All was in a hopeless confusion, and it was not until daylight came that
Captain Tanner and the others succeeded in straightening matters out.
Many of the women and children had fled into the forest and these had to
be hunted up, while some of the pioneers had followed the enemy on their
private account and did not return until they felt the Indians were
sufficiently beaten back.
When Dave recovered from his forced traveling his first anxiety was for
his uncle, who had fainted away from a fresh loss of blood. As well as
he was able, the youth bound up the wound once more, tearing off a
sleeve of his shirt for that purpose.
While he was at work several alarms sounded close to him, and he held
his breath, expecting to be discovered at any instant. But the Indians
passed him on both sides with a speed that showed him they were now
thinking only of retreat.
With the first streak of daylight he looked around him and at a distance
discovered two rangers on horseback. They were rounding up the pioneers
and their families and they readily consented to assist him all in their
power.
"Reckon Mr. Morris is in a pretty bad way," said one of the soldiers.
"The knocking around didn't do his wound no good."
"That's just the trouble," answered Dave. "But I did the best I could
under the circumstances. I didn't want the Indians to scalp him."
"Oh, you did mighty well, lad--mighty well. Come, I'll take him up on my
hoss."
The ranger carried the helpless man with care and soon Dave and his
uncle reached the spot to which all the pioneers were coming. As soon as
she caught sight of them, Mrs. Morris came running forward.
"Oh, Dave, how is he?" she questioned.
"Not any better, Aunt Lucy," he responded, soberly. "I think you'll have
to keep him very quiet after this."
"Did you see anything of Nell?"
"No. Is she gone?"
"Yes. Henry and your father are out looking for her."
"It's too bad! I hope they find her soon."
Dave felt very weak and gladly partook of some soup which several of the
women in the camp had made.
The youth was just finishing the repast when his father and Henry came
back, looking much disheartened.
"Did she come back?" questioned both, and then as Mrs. Morris shook her
head, not daring to trust herself to speak, James Morris continued:
"It's too bad! I can't believe it possible that the Indians carried her
off."
"Yes! yes! They must have carried her off!" sobbed Mrs. Morris. "My poor
darling Nell! Oh, what will those wretches do with her!" And she burst
into a flood of tears.
Rodney had just come up, and all turned in to console her as best they
could. Yet they could say but little to soothe her sorely wounded heart.
Even Dave found the tears standing in his eyes, for he loved little Nell
as much as if she were his own sister.
When it came time to count those who had been in the expedition it was
found that two other girls besides little Nell were missing--twins named
Mary and Bertha Rose, the children of a pioneer who lived fifteen miles
to the north of the Morris homestead. Mrs. Rose was as grief-stricken as
Mrs. Morris, and both wept together when they met.
"I shall remain behind to see if I can't find some trace of all the
children," said James Morris.
"And I'll do the same," said Nelson Rose. "I would rather give up my
life than leave my two girls in the Indians' power."
"Reckon as how I'll stay behind with ye," put in Sam Barringford.
Although he never admitted it, little Nell was very dear to the old
frontiersman's heart.
"White Buffalo will also look for little Bright-face," said the Indian
chief. "But he is much afraid the French Indians have carried all three
of the maidens off."
So it was decided, and when the expedition moved off the three white men
and the Indian with his followers were left behind. Captain Tanner and
Lieutenant Baldwick were now pretty certain that the Indians would not
make another attack in a hurry, and this was why he readily consented
to spare them. Although he said nothing, Uriah Risley also remained
behind, to see if he could not learn something concerning his wife.
Owing to the condition of the wounded the onward march to Winchester was
now slower than ever, and when night came only half the distance to that
frontier town had been covered. But a messenger had been sent ahead and
now several wagons came out to carry in the disabled on the following
day. This made the remainder of the journey less of a hardship for
Joseph Morris, and while he did not improve neither did he seem to grow
worse.
The news of the massacre, as it was called, had spread in all
directions, and when the pioneers reached Winchester they found the post
alive with many others who had come in from all points of the compass,
some with all of their belongings and others with nothing but the
clothing on their backs. As a consequence every cabin and house was
filled to overflowing, and it was only by good luck that the Morrises
obtained shelter at the cabin of an intimate friend named Maurice
Gibson. Gibson himself was a trader like James Morris, and his wife
Abigail and Mrs. Lucy Morris had been old schoolmates.
Joseph Morris was placed on a comfortable bed and without delay a
surgeon was called to attend him. The medical man probed his wound and
had it thoroughly washed, and then left a strong tonic as a medicine.
"I think he will recover before long," said the doctor. "But he must
remain quiet until the wound is thoroughly healed. If not fever may set
in and then I will not be responsible for the consequences."
"He shall remain here as long as he pleases," said Maurice Gibson. "And
his family also;" and so it was settled.
Of course Mrs. Morris felt relieved to think that her husband would
recover, but she could not forget her little daughter, and as she
thought of Nell in the hands of the Indians the silent tears would
course down her cheeks in spite of all she could do to stay them.
"It is awful, awful!" she said to Dave. "Oh, I would give my right hand
to know that she was safe!"
"I'd give a good deal myself, Aunt Lucy," he returned. "But keep up your
courage. Father, and Barringford, and White Buffalo will do all in their
power to bring her back to us."
Two days of anxiety passed in the town and then it was reported that the
majority of the hostile Indians had retreated in the direction of Fort
Duquesne, to join the French located at that stronghold. Some of the
regulars had followed a portion of the enemy and brought down three
braves at what was called Three Posts. Among these Indians thus laid low
was Crooked Nose, a half brother to Spotted Tail, a celebrated chief of
that time.
"And still no trace of Nell," sighed Mrs. Morris, when the news came in.
"Dave, did you hear anything of your father?"
"Not a word, Aunt Lucy."
"I hope he is safe."
"Oh, you can trust him to take care of himself--especially when
Barringford and White Buffalo are with him. I think they'll bring us
some certain news when they return."
But none of the party did return, and at the end of a week even Dave
grew anxious. By this time Joseph Morris felt strong enough to do a
little talking although he was not allowed to move further than was
absolutely necessary.
Even though there were no telegraph lines in those days, it did not take
the news long to travel throughout the length and breadth of Virginia
and her neighboring states, and it was felt on all sides that that
whole territory would not be safe from Indian and French raids so long
as Fort Duquesne remained in the hands of the French.
"Give me the authority and men to march against that fort and take
possession and our frontier will be at peace," wrote Colonel Washington.
"But the longer we delay the more dangerous will this situation become
to us." These are not his exact words but they are the gist of numerous
communications which he addressed to those in authority over him.
Two weeks later James Morris came in, pale and careworn, having traveled
a distance of several hundred miles in half a dozen directions, on a
hunt for little Nell and the Rose twins.
"We found traces of them, but that is all," he said. "They are
undoubtedly in the hands of the Indians, who are taking them either to
Fort Duquesne or else northward to Lake Erie. I left Mr. Rose,
Barringford and the Indians still looking for them. I was anxious to
learn how it was going with brother Joseph and the rest of you."
"But you will go back--you won't give up the hunt so soon?" pleaded Mrs.
Morris.
"Yes, I will go out again," answered Dave's father. "Just as soon as I
can have one square meal and one good night's sleep."
The meal was speedily forthcoming, and the trader went to bed at seven
that evening and did not awaken until noon of the next day. Then he
declared that he felt as if he had been made new all over, and two hours
later, bidding the others good-bye, set off to continue his search. It
was a long while before Dave saw his father again.