Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago: a tale of Indian warfare






CHAPTER IV.

Stealthily gliding through the fresh and thinly foliaged wood, that skirted the opposite shore, yet almost concealed from view, Corporal Nixon now beheld the crouching forms of several armed Indians, nearly naked, and evidently in war costume. They were following the serpentine course necessitated by the interposing trees, and seeking cautiously to establish themselves behind cover on the very verge of the bank.

“Back men for your lives, there's nothing friendly there,” exclaimed the Virginian the moment that his glance had taken in the scene, “out with the arms, and divide the dry ammunition. Collins, you are a smart fellow, do you and Green set to work and light a fire, but out of sight, and dry the muskets as fast as you can. There are twelve pounds in each of the five remaining cartouch boxes, these will do for a spell. Jackson, Philips, tree yourselves, while Cass lies flat in the stern, and keeps a good look out on the devils, without exposing himself. Now, my lads, do all this very quietly, and as if you didn't think there was danger at hand. If they see any signs of fear, they will pitch it into you directly. As it is, they are only waiting to settle themselves, and do it at their leisure.”

“Pity they don't make a general of you, corporal,” remarked Collins, as he proceeded quietly with Green to the execution of the duty assigned to them. “I guess Washington himself couldn't better command a little army. Is your battle order finished, general?”

“None of your nonsense, master Collins, this is no time for jesting. Go and dry these arms, and when you have them so that they can send a bullet from their throats, join Jackson and Philips in covering the boat. Weston and I will take up our first station.”

And in less time than we have taken to describe the cause of the alarm, and the instructions given in consequence, the men had hastened to execute the several duties assigned to them on shore, while Cass remained, not only with a view of showing the Indians that the boat was not wholly unguarded, but to be enabled to inform his comrades, who could distinctly hear him without rendering any particular elevation of the voice necessary, of any important movement on the part of the former. This quietude of arrangement on the part of Corporal Nixon had, seemingly, been not without effect. It was evident that the Indians had no suspicion that they had been seen, and even when the men coolly quitted the boat, they showed no impatience indicative of an impression that the party were seeking to shield themselves from an impending danger.

“This silence is strange enough,” said the corporal to his companion, after they had been some minutes secreted in the cavity from which the departure of the Indian with the boat had been arrested. “I almost wish they would fire a shot, for that would at once tell us how to act, and what we are to expect, whether they are friendly Indians or not.”

But no shot was fired, and from the moment when the men quitted the boat, and took up their positions, everything had continued silent as the grave on the opposite shore, and not the vestige of an Indian could be seen.

“But for that scalp,” again remarked the corporal, “I should take the party to have been friendly Indians, perhaps just returned from a buffalo hunt, and come down to the water to drink. They are surely gone again.”

“Look there,” said Weston, in a subdued tone, while he placed his hand on the shoulder of his superior, as both lay crouched in their hiding-place, “look there, corporal,” and he pointed with his finger to the opposite bank. “Do you see that large, blackish log lying near the hickory, and with its end towards us?”

“I do—what of it?”

“Well, don't you see something crouching like between the log and the tree—something close up to both. See! it moves now a little.”

Corporal Nixon strained his gaze in the direction indicated, but was obliged to admit that, although he distinctly enough saw the log and the tree, he could not discern any between thing them.

“NOW, do you see it?” again eagerly inquired Weston, as, at that moment, the same animal was seen to turn itself within the very limited space which had been indicated.

“Yes, I see it now,” replied the Virginian, “but it's as likely to be a hog as a man, for anything I can make of that shape; a hog that has been filling his skin with hickory nuts, and is but now waking out of his sleep. Still, as the Injins were there just now, it may be that if they're gone, they've left a spy behind them. We'll soon know how matters stand, for it won't do to remain here all night. Cass,” addressing the man in the boat who was seated low in the stern, only occasionally taking a sly peep, and immediately withdrawing his head, “place your cap on the rudder, and lie flat in the bottom. If they are there, and mean to fire at all, they will try their hands at THAT.”

“I hope they are good marksmen, corporal,” replied the man, as raising his right arm, he removed his forage cap and placed it so that the upper half only could be seen. “I've no great fancy for those rifle bullets, and give them a wide berth when I can.”

“Now are you convinced?” asked Weston, addressing the corporal, as both distinctly saw the object upon which their attention had been anxiously fixed, raise his head and shoulders, while he deliberately rested his rifle against the log on his right.

“Close down, Cass—don't move,” enjoined the Virginian; “the bait has taken, and we shall have a shot presently.”

Two almost imperceptible jets of spiral smoke, and crack, crack, went two rifles, while simultaneously with the report, fell back into the boat, the perforated forage cap. Both balls had passed through it, and lodged in the heart of the tree to which the skiff was moored, and behind which Jackson and Philips had taken their stand.

Evidently believing that they had killed a man, the whole of the band, hitherto concealed behind logs and trees, now rose to their feet, and uttered a fierce and triumphant yell.

“Devilish good firin', that,” remarked Green, whose face had been touched by a splinter of bark torn from the tree by one of the balls.

“Don't uncover yourselves, my lads,” hastily commanded the corporal; “all the fellows want now is to see us exposed, that they may have a crack at us.”

“We've dried the muskets after a fashion,” said Collins, as he now approached Jackson and Philips. “Give us a cartridge, and let's see if we can't match the varmint at that sort of work.” Then, having loaded, he, without asking the corporal's permission, leaned his musket against the tree, and taking a steady aim at the man who had fired from the point first noticed by Weston, drew the trigger.

The shot had evidently taken effect, for two other Indians were now seen going to the assistance of their comrade, whom they raised from the ground (where all had secreted themselves after the yell), and hurried to the rear.

A loud cheer burst from the lips of Collins, which was answered immediately by the whole of the savages, who, from various contiguous points, sprang again to their feet, and vociferating the war-whoop, dashed into the river nearly up to their necks, seemingly thirsting to overcome the only obstacle which prevented them from getting at their desired victims.

But, at the very moment, when several of them were holding their rifles aloft with their right hand, securing their powder-horns between their teeth, while Corporal Nixon issued to his men injunctions, not to pull another trigger until the savages should begin to swim, to the astonishment of all, came the sullen and unusual booming of the cannon from the Fort.

For a moment, the men, taking their eyes off the sights of their muskets, listened attentively for a repetition of the shot, but no second report reached their ears.

“That,” said Green, “was a warnin' for us.”

“It was,” observed the corporal. “Had the danger been THERE, they would have fired again. Depend upon it, my lads, there's more going on about here than we think. So don't throw away your ammunition. Every bullet you send must tell!”

“Well, we can but sell our scalps as dearly as possible,” interposed Collins, who had again loaded, and was now in the act of raising and supporting his, musket against the tree. “But look—see how the fellows are stealing off?”

“Don't fire, then, don't fire,” hastily enjoined the corporal. “If they will go quietly, let them. We must not lose our time dallying here, but make our way back to the Fort. That gun was meant to recall us, as well as to warn us, and luckily it has frightened the Indians, so they won't care to attack us again.”

Meanwhile the band of Winnebagoes, obeying, as it seemed, the command of their leader, whom Collins swore he could identify from his figure, even at that distance, to be the man who had attempted to carry off the boat, quitted the river for the cover of the woods, and, after an earnest consultation, retreated slowly in the direction of the prairie, without clamor of any description.

“Well rid of them, if they are gone,” exclaimed the corporal, not a little relieved by their departure. “We must keep a sharp look out though, and see if they return.”

“How many of them are there?” asked Jackson; “can you give a guess, Collins?”

“About a dozen I should say—indeed I counted as many as they passed through the small patch of clearing made by Eph. Giles's axe.”

“Can they have started for the farm?” observed the corporal musingly; “if so, my lads, we had better get away as soon as possible, for there they will find canoes to cross.”

“Why, sure they can swim across well enough. The river is not so wide as to prevent them from doing it on a pinch,” remarked Philips.

“Of course they can,” answered Collins, “but not without having their rifles as well soaked as our muskets were a little while ago. I say, corporal, I understand now the trick of that cunning chief. He jumped upon the arms purposely to overturn them into the river, when he found he couldn't get the boat, and all our firelocks over with him.”

“Yes, that WAS a trick,” remarked Jackson, “but, corporal, you havn't told us how the dickens that fellow came there, instead of the bear you went to spear.”

“There is no time to talk about it, seriously rejoined the Virginian. Some night when we are on guard, I will tell you what little I know. At present let us see to getting back to our post. Collins, you are the crack shot of the party, are you loaded?”

“I am, corporal,” returned the man somewhat self-sufficiently, “have you got another Injin for me to sink. If so, just point him out, and if this good barrel of Uncle Sam's don't do his job in no time, I'll give up all claim to having hit the first fellow.”

“Not just yet,” answered his superior, “but hear my orders. You'll follow the path along the bank, and move along carefully, until you reach Heywood's stacks. Conceal yourself behind one of them, until we come down with the boat, and keep a sharp lookout on all that you see passing in and round the farm. Now remember, Collins, not a shot, unless it be to save your life, or else you will get us all into a scrape.”

“Never fear me, General Nixon, and he touched his cap with all the respect he would have accorded to an officer of that rank. I brought one of the imps down, and that, I reckon, is nearly as good work for one day, as filling the old boat with fish, or having a slap at them ducks, as I wanted this morning. But now I'm off, if I see anything shall I halloo out, and let you know there's danger?”

“Not by a long chalk,” returned the corporal. “All I want you to do is to keep your tongue in your head and your eyes open. If you see anything to alarm you, come back quietly and let us know. We shall be moving down close to the bank of the river; and now start.”

Collins threw his musket to the trail, and advanced cautiously, though fearlessly, along the scarcely perceptible pathway—interrupted, at every third or fourth step by creeping vines that protruded from the earth, and rendered it necessary, in order to prevent his tripping, that he should raise his feet somewhat in the manner of a horse with the string-halt.

He had not proceeded half a mile, when, at an angle of the ill-defined path, formed by a point where the river was the narrowest, he was started at the sight of a human body lying across his course, evidently on its face, though the head was concealed from view by the trunk of a large tree that bordered upon the road. His first impulse was to turn back and acquaint the corporal with what he had discovered; but a few minutes of reflection satisfying him of the ridicule he should incur in reporting, without being able to state with accuracy on WHAT, he boldly advanced. On approaching it, he found that the body was lifeless, while from the red and scalpless head, previously hidden from his view, were exuding gouts of thick blood that trickled slowly over the pale features of a youth of tender age, the expression of which had been worked up into an intensity of terror, and there remained. At a few paces from the head, and close upon the edge of the bank, lay a dressed bear skin which had evidently been saturated with water, but was now fast drying in the air and what little sunlight was occasionally thrown upon it, through the dense branches of the forest.

There are situations in which the mind is moved to do that from which in cooler moments it would shrink with disgust. It chanced that Collins had retained the scalp so singularly found at the bottom of the river, by Corporal Nixon, and this circumstance at once determined him.

Instead of hastening by an object so appalling, Collins rested his musket against a tree, and taking the scalp from between the ramrod and the stock, where he had introduced it, knelt by the body, and spreading out the humid skin to its fullest extent, applied it to the bleeding excavation. As he had suspected, they corresponded exactly, making all due allowance for the time they had been separated, and he had no longer a doubt that the mutilated boy was Mr. Heywood's help, Wilton. A much more important discovery than this, however, resulted from his vain endeavor to recognise the boy from his features, they were so contracted by terror, as has already been said, and so covered with blood as to be indistinguishable. But on turning him upon his back, and passing his hands over his face, Collins was surprised to find that there was not that icy chill which he had expected, but on the contrary the faint warmth that indicates suspended, animation; and deeper yet was the gratification of the rude soldier, when, on opening the shirt and placing his hand on the heart of the boy, he felt an occasional spasmodic pulsation, denoting that life was not utterly extinct.

With an eagerness to preserve life, strongly in contrast with his recent exultation in destroying it, his anxiety for the recovery of the boy was almost paternal. Fortunately the latter part of the day had been free from the chilliness of the morning, so that, although the naked skull must have been some hours exposed, the comparatively bland state of the atmosphere gave fair earnest that the brain itself, even if affected, had not sustained a mortal injury. Spreading wide the scalp in his open palm, Collins now breathed heavily upon it, until it attained what he conceived to be the necessary warmth, when gently applying it to the denuded crown, to which he fitted it as well as he could, he passed his handkerchief, which he had removed from his throat, over it, and under the chin of the boy in such a manner as to prevent the chill of the approaching night from affecting the injured part. This done, he poured through his closed lips a few drops of whisky from the canteen, and then raising him gently on his left shoulder, he rose from his stooping posture, and seizing in his right hand his musket, which he continued at the trail, pursued his route to the haystacks as directed.

In the meantime, Corporal Nixon, with the remainder of the fishing party, was slowly descending the river, hugging the eastern shore as closely as possible, in order that, if attacked suddenly, they might, on the instant, leap into the river, and covering themselves by the boat, fight their enemies at less disadvantage. The corporal himself and Weston kept a vigilant look out, the one at the bow, the other at the stern, while the four remaining men, Jackson, Philips, Green, and Cass pulled so noiselessly that the dip of their oars, and their unavoidable jar in the row-locks, could not be heard at a distance of more than ten yards. At this slow rate much time was necessarily consumed, so that it was quite dark when they reached the traverse opposite the farm, where Ephraim Giles had crossed some hours before, and whither Collins had been dispatched to make observations.

The patience of the latter had been much tried, for it seemed an age had elapsed before his comrades made their appearance. The sun was just setting as he reached the innermost haystack, and his anxiety for his charge had become intense. Seeing the canoe drawn up on the beach, and the paddles in it, he had a strong inclination to cross and procure some efficient relief for the insensible boy, but the silence that reigned around the dwelling awed him, and he checked the natural impulse. Not a soul was to be seen, not a voice to be heard, not even the barking of Loup Garou, the bleating of a sheep, or the lowing of an ox. What could this mean? and was the fate of the boy connected with that of the other inmates of the farm? If so, where were they?

Another consideration induced Collins to suppress his first impulse, and that was the apprehension that his strange charge would be detained by Mr. Heywood, when his only chance of recovery lay in the speedy examination, and dressing his injuries by the surgeon of the garrison. There was no alternative then, but to wait patiently for the arrival of the boat into which the boy could be placed; and so conveyed to the fort. Meanwhile, as the night air was becoming chill, and a slight fog rising from the water, the considerate soldier did all he could to shield his protege from their pernicious effect. Strewing on the ground a few armfuls of hay, taken from the nearest of the stacks, around which the hungry cattle now gathered, eager for their food, he extended on it the yet inanimate form of the youth, embracing the body in order to impart to it the benefit of animal heat and in this position, his head being slightly raised, eagerly endeavored to discern through the darkness not only what might be seen on the opposite shore, but the approach of the party in the boat.

The sun had now been down some time, and so dark was it that, in that narrow space, obscured by the blending shadows of the tall forests on either shore, it was difficult, at five yards distance, to make out anything on the water, unaccompanied by light or sound. This silence was anything but agreeable to Collins, whose imagination, excited by the later occurrences of the day, was filled with, strange misgivings, as he looked in vain for the customary lights in the farm-house. The fishing party had never been out so late, and yet, at the first fall of darkness, they had been accustomed to see the place exhibiting at least one light; and the absence of this now caused Collins heartily to wish himself in the boat, and safely moored under cover of the fort. Not that the soldier was influenced by the apprehension of personal danger, but because the deep gloom, the solitude and silence of the scene, coupled with his newly-awakened interest in the almost corpse that lay in close contact with his person, impressed him with a sort of superstitious feeling, not at all lessened by the knowledge that his only companion, at that moment, belonged rather to the grave than to the upper earth.

At length his anxiety was relieved. The sound of the oars, cautiously pulled, faintly met his ear, and then the boat could be indistinctly seen approaching the canoe. To this succeeded a low call uttered by the corporal. Collins replied in a similar tone, and then bearing the body of the boy, still enveloped in the bear skin, he in less than a minute, rejoined his party.

The astonishment of the latter may be conceived on beholding so unexpected a sight, nor was their feeling of awe diminished when their comrade had briefly related what had occurred since he left them.

“Strange enough, this,” remarked the corporal musingly; “stranger still, there's no light in the house. It's neither too early nor too late for that. I'll tell you what, my lads, if any thing has happened we must know the worst—it will never do to go back to the Fort, without being able to give some notion of what took place under our very noses.”

“What would Mr. Ronayne say, if we did?” added Jackson.

“Yes! and what would that sweet young lady, Miss Heywood, think of us, if we returned without giving some good news of her father. Why she never would look upon us kindly again.”

“Right, Philips,” said Weston, “and I'm sure I'd rather offend the captain himself, any day, than do anything to displease her. God grant we bring her no bad news.”

“Amen,” said the corporal, gravely, for he, like Collins, had some strong misgivings, arising naturally from the utter darkness and silence that continued to prevail in and around the farm-house. “Are you all loaded? Look to your primings, but make no noise. Somebody must take charge of the beat though. Who volunteers to remain, while the rest follow me to the house?”

“I do—I'll remain,” said Collins, “one of you can take my musket.”

“What, Collins, do you shirk the thing,” sneered the man with the long nose and the peaked chin; “have you had enough to-day, or do you fear the ghost of the fellow you knocked over?”

“I fear neither man or ghost, as you well know, Nutcrackers,” warmly rejoined Collins, “but I take it, there's no great courage in making a fuss about going where there's no enemy to be found. If there has been danger in that quarter, I take it, it's passed, and as somebody must stop in the boat, why 'not me as well as another?”

“Just so,” said the corporal. “Cass, this is no time to run your rigs. You see well enough that Collins wishes to stop behind, on account of the boy he hopes to bring to life. Little chance of that, I fear, but if he thinks so, it would be unchristian to disappoint him. And now push off, but make no noise.”

The order was obeyed. In a few minutes the bow of the boat touched the landing-place, when all but Collins, who was at the helm, slipped noiselessly ashore. The corporal repeated his instructions—how to act under emergency and if separated—and moved along the path remained stationary in the centre.




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