"PULL THE STRING, BUB."
The high state of excitement into which Charlie had been kept by the
startling events connected with the massacre, and his ingenious
defence of the cabin, brought about a reaction; great lassitude
alternated with feverish symptoms. He felt obliged to watch during the
long hours of night, and caught such snatches of sleep as Bub's
performances allowed by day.
One day, after Bub had had his breakfast, Charlie said,--
"I feel as if I was going to be sick, Bub; my mouth tastes dreadfully,
and my head aches so I can scarcely see. If I shouldn't get well, and
the Indians should come, you must remember and go into the hole in the
cellar, and pull the stone up in its place after you, just as I showed
you how, and keep still same as we did in the tree."
"And shall I have to take the toffee-pot and go to the spring, same's
you did?"
"No," said Charlie; "the Indians would see you and kill you if you
did, and we have a well in the yard. But I'll tell you what I'll do.
I'll bring a pail of cold water now, and fill the coffee-pot, and put
it into the hole, and a good lot of food there for you to eat, so that
you wouldn't have to come out for anything; and, Bub, if I should die,
and father and mother should come and take you away, I want you to
tell them that I put the water and the food there; won't you?"
"Yes," said Bub; "and I'll let them hide in our tree; mayn't I,
Charlie?"
"Yes," answered Charlie; "you must tell them all you can remember;
tell them that I tried to be a good boy; tell mother,"--speaking very
softly,--"that every night we said 'Now I lay me;' and don't you never
forget to say, 'Now I lay me;' will you, Bub?"
"No, I won't," said Bub; "tos, if I'm dood, like you and mother, and
say, 'Now I lay me' every night, when I die Dod will send a big angel
down to take me up to heaven; won't he, Charlie?"
"Yes," said Charlie. "Now I'll go get the water;" and, walking with
unsteady step to the well, he returned with a pail of water, and,
filling the coffee-pot, descended, feebly, to the cellar, and placed
it in the hole which he had dug; then, carrying most of the provisions
that they had, deposited them there also, and going up stairs again,
he started for the bed, but suddenly stopped, and putting his hand
over his eyes, said,--
"O, where is it? I can't see, I'm so dizzy," and fell by the side of
it, on the hard floor. Bub looked on in wonder, scarcely comprehending
the meaning of it, saying,--
"Did the cellar hurt you, Charlie?" But there was no answer. In a few
moments after, Charlie opened his eyes, and said,--
"Bub, I'm dreadful sick; if the Indians should come,--and you must
watch for them, Bub, else they might come when you wasn't looking,--"
Then he relapsed into silence.
"Did you 'peak, Charlie?" said Bub, wondering that he did not finish
the sentence. The dear little voice seemed to recall his wandering
thoughts, and, taking up what he was saying where he had left off,
continued,--
"If the Indians should come, Bub, remember and pull the strings;
perhaps that will frighten them off, as it did before. If it doesn't,
go right into the hole in the cellar, as I told you."
"I fraid to go into the cellar 'out you."
"But you must," answered Charlie, "or the Indians will kill you. But
you won't feel afraid if you pray God to take care of you."
"Is Dod stronger than dark?" asked Bub.
"Yes," said Charlie, "he made the dark; he made you, and everything;
but," he added, "I feel better; I guess I'll get on the bed; it's
easier there."
Charlie was threatened with brain fever, as his bloodshot eyes,
flushed face, and throbbing temples revealed. The strain had been too
great for him, and he soon seemed to be unconscious of what was
passing around him, and moaned and tossed incessantly. Chary of his
scanty store of provisions, not knowing how long they might be shut up
in the cabin, he had eaten sparingly himself, but fed Bub generously,
not only from love to his little brother, but because it would keep
him the more quiet. The night-watching had worn on him terribly.
Bub had small comprehension of Charlie's condition; and finding, after
a while, that Charlie did not talk with him, he took the post of
sentinel, and did himself great credit. This seemed a long period to
the little fellow, and after going the rounds of the port-hole, and
seeing nothing to alarm him, he set about amusing himself. The skin
bag, containing the ammunition, caught his eye; so, getting the
fire-shovel, he managed to dislodge it from the peg on which it hung,
and down it plumped upon the floor. Bub looked towards Charlie at
this, to see what he would say, but, as he did not seem to notice,
lugged the bag to the hearth, and commenced strewing the powder upon
the fire. This was highly satisfactory, and one little puff would go
up, sending out the white ashes, to be succeeded by another, as fast
as the fat fist of the little mischief-maker could work. Then he began
to strew the powder out from the hearth upon the floor; and he clapped
his hands in glee, as he saw the fire run along the trains that he had
laid. Very careless was he in his pyrotechnic contrivances, and might
have found himself involved in a grand explosion, had he not bethought
himself that, if powder was good to burn, it was also good to eat.
Now, it chanced that Charlie, in his investigations in the cupboard,
had come across a neglected jug, that contained molasses; and as
molasses was much prized by Bub, he had kept it for that little boy's
sole use, dealing it out to him, a little at a time, at each meal. So,
bringing out the jug and a saucer, Bub filled the latter with
molasses, into which he stirred the powder, and commenced eating the
sweet mixture. He knew he had been into mischief that would displease
his brother; so, denying himself the first taste, taking the saucer
and spoon in his hand, he trudged to the bedside, and said,--
"Bub made Charlie some tandy. Bub good boy."
But, as Charlie gave no heed to the peace-offering, Bub put the saucer
upon the table, and, seating himself in his usual place at meal time,
commenced eating. The compound was not so pleasant as its inventor had
expected, and, after the first few spoonfuls, was abandoned in
disgust. It now occurred to him that it was time to resume his post as
sentry. Mounting to his first outlook, his little blue eyes dilated,
for he saw an Indian creeping along.
"Charlie," said he, jumping down in terror. "Injun come to kill Bub!"
But, as Charlie did not reply, he clambered on the bed, crying,--
"Charlie, 'peak to Bub; Injun come!" Then, supposing that the reason
he made no answer was because he had burnt the powder, he said, with
quivering lip,--
"Bub's sorry he's been naughty; Bub won't be naughty no more. Bub love
Charlie;" and he put his little face lovingly against Charlie's. But
he started back as Charlie's hot cheeks touched his tender flesh.
Remembering how hot his own flesh was when tortured with thirst in the
tree, and how grateful the draught of water was Charlie fetched from
the spring at the risk of his life, Bub exclaimed,--
"Charlie dry; Bub give Charlie some drink!" and hastening to the
table, he took from it the large bowl, and filled it from the bucket
that Charlie had left on the floor, and, climbing with it on the bed
again, essaying to put it to his lips, upset the whole over his face
and neck. The sudden application of the cold water proved a balm to
the sick boy, and, recognizing Bub, he inquired, confusedly,--
"Where--where am I?--what's the matter?"
"Injun's come!" cried Bub, with renewed earnestness.
Charlie attempted to rise, but fell back, exhausted, saying, while a
growing faintness crept over him,--
"I can't get up, Bub, I'm so sick; pull the string."
Bub did as he was directed, and again the cabin fort broke the
stillness of prairie and forest with its unmanned broadside.
"Now," said Charlie, his voice sinking to a whisper, "go and hide
yourself in the cellar, Bub, and keep very still."
"I 'fraid 'out you!" said Bub.
"I am so sick," answered Charlie, "I can't go with you."
"I so 'fraid!" quivered Bub, as he saw the deathly pallor creeping
over Charlie's face, and the fixed look of his eyes.
"Pray, and then go and keep still," said Charlie.
And little Bub knelt by the bedside, and, folding his hands,
repeated,--
"Now I lay me down to sleep;
I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take;"
and then adding, of his own accord, "Please, Dod, take care of
Charlie, and don't let the dark hurt Bub;" rising, he said, "Bub isn't
'fraid now;" and, descending into the cellar, he crept into his
hiding-place in the wall, and carefully readjusted the stone.
The Indian that Bub had seen was Long Hair. While he was cautiously
reconnoitring, the command under Captain Manly had reached the ground.
The soldiers found the outer door securely fastened, and, though they
thundered for admittance, there was no response from within. In their
impatience, some broke down the door, while others scaled the walls.
Captain Manly was the first to enter, and the soldiers pushed in
eagerly after him, anxious to rescue the settlers, if any were there
still. Instantly his eye caught the figure stretched on the bed.
"Hush, boys," said he, reverently; "the little fellow is dead."
Tears filled the eyes of the men as they gathered about their officer,
and gazed silently upon the features of the boy. A placid look was
upon the brave lad's countenance; his curly-brown hair lay in dank
masses, in fine contrast to his white forehead; while the lessons of
self-control, which he had been taught, made his expression mature and
noble. Captain Manly stooped and kissed the cold forehead, and the
soldiers instinctively lifted their caps.
Meanwhile, the cabin had been carefully searched.
"There's not a soul in it," said Sergeant Eaton, touching his cap.
"The little lad yonder seems to have been all alone."
"Impossible. What did that firing mean from the cabin, just as we rode
up? And here, you see, are no less than a dozen rifles, all nicely
mounted. Where are the fingers that pulled the triggers? Sergeant,
there is some mystery here that needs to be unravelled. Have you
searched the cellar?"
"We have, sir," was the reply.
The officers stood looking at each other perplexed, and were
continuing their conversation in a low tone, when Long Hair entered,
and without noticing any one, stood, with folded arms, gazing at
Charlie.
"Long Hair," said the captain, turning abruptly towards him, "how long
did you get here before we did?"
"Little time--not much."
"Were you on the ground when we heard the discharge?"
"In tree; just here; over dere."
"Did any one leave the cabin after the guns were fired?"
"No leave cabin," he answered.
"Who do you think fired the guns, Long Hair?"
"Charlie fire gun."
"But Charlie is dead; and the discharge was only a few moments ago."
"No; Indian no sense; Charlie no fire gun. Bub fire gun."
"Impossible," returned the captain, impatiently. "How could such a
child do it?"
"What string for, cap'n?" asked Long Hair, pointing to the twine that
hung from the gun triggers, which, being so near the color of the
walls, had been detected only by the Indian's keen glance. This
ingenious arrangement was examined with interest; and the conviction
was fast gaining ground, that Long Hair was not far from right in his
conclusions.
"But where is the child?" asked the captain; and again they searched
the cabin. The closet was peered into to its topmost shelf; a few
boxes that had been left, emptied of their contents; even the bed on
which Charlie lay was minutely examined, and the improbable
supposition that the walls of the cellar might conceal him was
renounced, as the soldiers struck the butts of their guns against the
stones.
"Is it possible," asked the captain of Long Hair,--for he had learned
to rely much on his sagacity,--"that Bub could escape from the
house?"
Long Hair shook his head, saying,--
"No trail; Bub no go."
"May it plase your honor," said the Irish private, O'Connor, touching
his cap to the captain, "I belave, on me sowl, that it's the ghost of
the brave lad that shot the guns. The likes of him, sir, would be
afther defendin' the cabin if 'twas only out of respect to the
onburied bodies of the women and the childers that has been murthured
by the hathen savages--bad luck to 'em!"
"Long Hair," said the captain, smiling at the superstition of the
warm-hearted Hibernian, "I've a mind, while the men are taking their
rations on the grass, to leave you to clear up this mystery; I
believe, if any one can find it out, you can."
The men, having fallen into line, stacked their guns, and Long Hair
was left alone with Charlie. He stood for a moment looking at the
quiet form of the boy; and the workings of his usually stolid face
showed the affection which he felt for him. He then carefully looked
about the room, then went quietly out, and passed around the cabin,
critically examining the ground as he walked. He soon returned, and
made directly for the cellar, gliding noiselessly in his moccasins
down the stairs. In the dim light he carefully went over the cellar
bottom. Taking up some of the litter with which it was covered, he
gently scraped the fresh sand away until he came to litter again.
Patiently and carefully then he removed the top litter from a wide
space, noticing from which direction the sand had been thrown, and in
a moment he was standing where the heap had been, which Charlie and
Bub had shovelled away. Stooping down now, he saw where the earth had
been fretted by the stone as it had been pulled out and in; then he
placed his ear to the ground, and listened intently; instantly he
glided from the cellar, and stood with folded arms before Captain
Manly.
"Well, what luck?" asked the captain.
"Long Hair find pappoose."
There was a general excitement at this, and a number arose, as if
eager to follow the captain and the Indian; but Long Hair stirred not,
saying, angrily,--
"Too much sojer; scare pappoose."
"That is sensible," said the captain; "you and I will go alone, Long
Hair."
The Indian led him at once to the place in the wall where Bub was
concealed.
"Pappoose in dere," said the Indian, pointing to the stone. "Take
stone out."
The captain drew it forth, got down on his hands and knees, and peeped
in, and saw Bub's bright eyes looking into his; and, taking hold of
Bub's chubby hand, he said, soothingly,--for Bub now began to cry,--
"Don't be afraid, my little fellow; we are all your friends, and have
come to take you to your mother."
"Won't Injun kill me?" asked Bub, glancing apprehensively at Long
Hair.
"No," said the officer; "it's Long Hair; he came to keep the bad
Indians from killing you."
When Captain Manly appeared with Bub in his arms, the air was rent
with the joyful shouts of the soldiers; and Bub suddenly found himself
a hero, as he was borne about and caressed by them--a joy that was
suddenly intensified to a wild pitch of excitement, as word was
brought that dear, brave, romantic Charlie had revived. He was not
dead. Aroused by the shouts of the soldiers over Bub's appearance, he
had opened his eyes, and, imagining that the Indians were assailing
the cabin, murmured, in a clear, distinct voice,--
"Pull the string, Bub!"