The farm-house was, as we have said, of very rude construction—such a one as could only spring up in so remote a region, and among so sparse a population. With the exception of the roof, the frame-work of which had been covered with raw buffalo hides, it was built wholly of rough logs, notched at the ends in a sort of dove-tail fashion, and when not lying closely, filled in with chunks of wood, over which a rude plaster of mud had been thrown, so that the whole was rendered almost impervious to water, while it ran little risk from the agency of fire. It had two rooms on the ground floor—one smaller than the other, used as a dormitory, and containing all the clothes or “traps,” as they designated them, of the household. The other served as eating-room, parlor, and kitchen, and extended over, at least, three-fourths of the area. It was provided with two doors—one facing the river and close to the partition which divided the rooms—the other occupying a remoter position to the rear. The windows of this apartment were two in number, and, equidistant from the doors, were considerably elevated above the floor. These apertures had been formed by simply sawing a few of the logs, so as to complete squares, into which were fitted rude sashes, each containing four small panes of a greenish, and by no means, transparent glass, and connected by strong leathern hinges. In winter the necessary warmth was afforded, by shutters put up and barred from within. The southern gable or dormitory, was provided in the centre with one window of similar size and construction. The upper floor, a sort of granary and depot for the provisions of the family, was ascended by means of a ladder, and through a square aperture just large enough to admit with ease the body of a man.
There was, in rear of the house, a rather extensive corn-field, and beyond the northern gable, where the chimney stood, an orchard yet in its infancy, but promising future abundance, while at the opposite, or south end of the building, a large but very highly cultivated garden, was now undergoing the customary spring process of digging and manuring, and indeed on that very morning, Mr. Heywood had been busily engaged in this occupation with the boy Wilton, his men being employed, the one in field labor, the other as we have seen, in chopping wood.
In the rear of the garden, and opposite to the corn-field, from which it was separated by a road leading to the wood, was a tolerably sized barn, likewise constructed of rude logs, not, however, filled in. The lower part of this was used as a stable; the upper or loft, roofed with bark, contained the preceding year's unhusked crop from the corn-field, while contiguous to it, and to the rear, was another oblong square building, constructed in the same manner, but without loft. This, partitioned and covered simply with unhewn logs, served not only as a pen for sheep and pigs, but as a roasting-place for the feathered portion of the stock.
The orchard on the one side, and the garden on the other, extended to the bank of the river—a zig-zag, or snake-fence separating them from the road, in the centre of which, and at about ten feet from the door of the dwelling, rose a majestic walnut tree then in early blossom. Immediately beyond this tree, was a low enclosure which intersected the road, passing across from the kitchen-garden to the orchard, and forming the only court or yard upon the premises.
When Corporal Nixon, with his little party, had cautiously advanced some few paces towards the house, he caused them to separate, Cass and Jackson leaping the fence which bounded the orchard, and Green and Philips that of the garden, while he himself, with Weston, pursued the pathway in front. The better to be prepared for any sudden attack, bayonets had been quietly fixed, and the firelocks at the full cock, carried at the trail—this latter precaution after the detached files had crossed the fences.
The night, as has already been said, was very dark, and each succeeding minute seemed to increase the obscurity, so that it was rather from their familiarity with the ground, than from any clear indication of correctness of course, that the little band were enabled to preserve their necessary unity. At length the tall shadows of the walnut tree came suddenly upon the sight of the corporal, but so completely absorbing was the darkness in the heavier gloom, that, without being aware of it's proximity, he stumbled against the low and slight enclosure, which, yielding to the impetus of his motion, feeble even as that was, caused him to fall forward on his face, his musket dropping from his grasp without, however, going off.
A low growl from a dog succeeded, and before the Virginian could even make the attempt to rise, the animal had sprang upon, and fastened his teeth into his shoulder, shaking him so violently, that it was not until Weston, who had now crossed the enclosure, came up to his assistance, guided by the sound of the struggle, that the dog could be made to relinquish his hold.
“Loup Garou—Loup Garou, old fellow, what's the matter with you,” said the latter coaxingly, as he caressed the neck of the dog, which he had identified, and now sought to appease.
Evidently recognising a friend in the utterer of his name, the animal turned suddenly around, licked the hand of Weston, and then sent forth a long and piteous howl.
“Mercy, what is that?” suddenly exclaimed the corporal, who having regained his legs and musket, had moved on a pace or two.
“Where! what?” asked Weston, coming up to his side.
In the darkness before them, there was a deeper darkness that bore the indistinct appearance of a human form, lying in a stooping posture close to the trunk of the tree.
A vague presentiment of the truth flashed upon the mind of the Virginian, who enjoining silence on his companion, advanced close to the object, and laid his hand upon it. There could be no longer a doubt. The blanket coat, and woollen sash, which he first touched, and then the shoe pack, told him in unmistakable language that it was Le Noir, the Canadian owner of the dog. He shook him, and twice, in a low voice called him by name. But there was no answer, while the body stiff and motionless, fully revealed the fate of the unfortunate man.
Meanwhile, Loup Garou, which had followed, squatted himself at the head, which was hanging over the front of what they knew, from its handles and the peculiar odor, exhaling from it, to be a wheel-barrow filled with manure, and then commenced licking—moaning at the same time in a low and broken whine.
“What can the dog mean by that?” whispered Weston.
“Don't you hear him licking his dead master's face, and telling his sorrow in his own way,” answered the corporal as, in order to assure himself, he dropped his hand to the mouth of the dog; but no sooner had he done so, than he drew it suddenly back with a shudder of disgust and hastily wiped it, clammy with the blood that yet trickled from the scalped head of the murdered man.
A low whistle was here given on the left, and a few yards above, that startled the Virginian, for it was the signal agreed upon if anything suspicious, should be noticed by the other parties. He promptly answered it in a different call, and in another minute Green and Philips had joined him. “What have you seen?” he inquired, not regarding the exclamation of surprise of the new comers, at the unexpected sight before them.
“We've seen nothin' its so dark,” answered Green, “but unless the cattle have got into the garden, there's somethin' else movin' there. Philips and I listened after we heard the dog howl the first time, for we could hear as if somethin' like steps were stopped suddenly when he moaned the second time we listened again, and thought the same thing.”
“They couldn't be cattle,” added Philips, “for the cattle are all kept on the other side.”
“Only the young stock, and them as ain't used about the farm,” remarked Weston.
“Well, but what kind of steps were they?” eagerly questioned the corporal, whose imagination was filled not more with the danger that seemed to be near them, than with the censure of himself he feared he should incur, on his return to the fort, for having subjected the party to risk. “Surely you can tell between the tread of cattle and the steps of men.”
“I should say they, weren't the steps of cattle; they were too light for that. Though they couldn't help crushin' the dry sticks and rubbish they couldn't help seein' lyin' in the way. Don't you think so Philips?”
“I did, corporal, and so sure did I guess them to be no cattle that it was me that whistled.”
“Then there's no use in going farther,” remarked the Virginian gravely. “Even if we get to the house, we can't see anything in it for the darkness, and the poor fellow shows plain enough that it's to use looking out to save Mr. Heywood or Ephraim Giles. Come, my lads, we must get back to the boat, and down stream as quick and as quiet as we can.”
Giving his own low whistle of recall, he was answered from the opposite direction, and in a few minutes Cass and Jackson made their appearance.
These latter were, briefly questioned whether they had seen anything, and great was the anxiety of all when it was known that they had also heard in the orchard but in a fainter manner, what had attracted the attention of Green and Philips in the garden.
“Why didn't you give the signal then, as directed?”
“Because,” answered Cass, “We weren't quite sure about it, and feared the whistle might tell the Injins, if any were near, our whereabouts.”
Scarce had this explanation been given, when the attention of all was arrested by a loud clear shout of the corporals' name, evidently uttered by Collins.
“Into the house—into the house,” exclaimed the same voice. “The Injins are creeping up to you.”
As these words came ringing upon the silence of the night the dull steps in rapid advance through the two enclosures were now distinctly heard, while the flash of a gun fired in their rear, lighted up the forms of three or four savages, gliding up to them by the pathway by which the corporal had come.
The danger was imminent, the necessity for securing the important position imperative, and without waiting for the order of their superior, or even uttering a word, the whole of the party, acting upon the caution of Collins, made a rush towards the front entrance of the house, which they gained at the very moment when the rattling of the snake-fences, and the total overthrow of the slight enclosure, announced that their enemies were thus near in pursuit.
Fortunately the door was wide open, so that they had all passed in, when the Indians on either flank, as though by previous arrangement, poured in their cross fire, towards that common centre, without, however, striking anything but the logs.
Terrific and continuous yells succeeded, and well was it that, with cool promptitude, the corporal had sought, and found behind the door, where he knew they were usually kept, the strong bars, three in number, that secured the heavy panels, for as many of the Indians as could find room to act together, now applied their shoulders to the frame with such violence, that but for those timely safeguards, it must have yielded. During more than five minutes they persevered in their efforts, the men waiting anxiously in attitude of preparation for the result, when all at once they ceased, and their footsteps were heard cautiously retiring.
“Quick, look to the back-door, two of you,” commanded the corporal in an eager, but low tone, “they are going round; there, if that is not secured we are lost.”
Green and Philips sprang forward towards the point indicated, but the latter in his excitement stumbled heavily against something, and fell at his length upon the floor, exclaiming: “I've fallen over a dead man, and am half drowned in his blood.”
His companion who had escaped this obstruction, had scarcely time to assure the corporal that the back door was already barred, a fact which he had discovered by dint of feeling, when the latch was first heard gently tried, then the door violently assaulted. Another loud and angry yell from the Indians announced their disappointment, then several shots were fired at the door, and two or three balls could be heard dropping and rolling upon the floor, after having passed through the heavy planks.
“Safe enough now for a while, my lads,” said the corporal exultingly, “and we can have, a little breathing time. Who's got the means of striking a light, that we may see where we are, and what we're about?”
“I have,” answered Green, as taking a flint, steel, and tinder from his pocket, he, with a couple of strokes, ignited the latter, and approached the hearth, which the faint light from the burning “punk” enabled him to reach. The fire had long since gone out, but the crisp and blackened embers, soon grew under the care of the soldier into light sufficient to render objects in the apartment gradually more and more distinguishable.
While this process was going on, the rest, leaning on their muskets, were anxiously grouped around the spot where Philips had fallen. At first, only the outline of a man of large stature and proportions could be seen lying in a cramped position, as if produced by some strong convulsive agony, and then when the fire began to kindle and crackle, the dress could be distinguished, and then as the light grew brighter, the scalpless head, and then the marked and distorted features of the murdered master of the house, who lay in a pool of blood that slowly trickled along the crevices of the floor. His hands were firmly clenched upon the barrel of a rifle which had been broken off at the stock, that now lay a few yards beyond, while the features, sternly set in death, bore a mingled expression of defiance and resolution. A cut, as from a tomahawk had laid open his left temple, while on several parts of his body could be seen thick encrustations of blood that had exuded through the rent clothing, marking the seat of several stabs and gunshot wounds. It was evident that Mr. Heywood had not lost his life without a desperate, struggle, for independently of the testimony afforded by his broken rifle, which he seemed to have used with fierce determination, the heavy table had been overthrown, and the few articles of necessary furniture in the room evidently displaced.
“What a tale, this, to carry back,” gravely remarked Weston. “I wouldn't take the corporal's stripes to-morrow, and be the first man to tell Miss Heywood of it.”
“Supposing we get back at all,” said Cass. “Though we're safe enough for the present, I've no notion these devils will let us off go soon.”
“There's no great danger now,” interrupted the corporal. “I defy them, if they're not stronger than we saw them this morning, to get into the house, with six good firelocks to defend it.”
“But they may set fire to it, and burn us out,” persevered the apprehensive man with the hooked nose and the peaked chin; “I've heard of those things before.”
“Burn your granny out, Nutcrackers; look at them logs well, and say if it would'nt take hell-fire itself to burn 'em through in a month, but corporal, had'nt we better divide the ammunition. We don't know, as Cass says, what the imps are about, and what trouble they may give us yet.”
“Right, Green, there's nothing like being on the sure side, and so, my lads look to the pouches. Weston, there's a candle in that stone bottle on the shelf—light it, and put it on the table as soon as you have got that on its legs again.”
The examination was soon made. Each small cartouch box, expressly made for light excursions, contained, with the exception of the single cartridge which Collins had fired, the usual allowance of fifteen rounds. Two of these however—those of Green and Philips—had been so saturated by long immersion in the water, that they were wholly unserviceable. They were therefore emptied and dried, and the deficiency supplied from the pouches of their comrades, thus leaving about a dozen charges to each man.
“A small stock of ammunition, this, I guess, to stand a long siege on an empty belly,” drawled forth Cass.
“Just like you—always croakin',” sneered Green, “and always thinking of your belly. Why man, you've more ammunition there, I take it, than ever you'll fire away in your life.”
“And if we haven't enough,” said the corporal, going to, and taking down and shaking a powder horn, which hung suspended from the wall, that had evidently been overlooked by the Indians, “here are a dozen more charges at least, and the balls of the cartridges have not, I take it, lost their power to drill a hole into a fellow because they've been considerably well ducked. But hark! what noise is that—listen!”
A low, grating sound, as of some heavy body rubbing against the ground, was now audible at short intervals, to seemed to proceed from the southern gable—but not a voice was heard. From the moment when they had uttered their cry of disappointment, on finding the back entrance secured, the Indians had preserved the utmost silence.
Suddenly a yell, pealed from the direction of the river, caused them for the first time to revert to the exposed position of the unfortunate Collins.
“Poor fellow,” said Green, dashing away a tear. “I wish he was with us. Somehow or other, I feel as if we should all have a better chance in a fight, were that lad in the middle of it.”
“We shall never see him more!” gravely observed the Virginian; “That shot fired just after he warned us, did his business, depend upon it, and if that one didn't, it is not likely the blood-hounds would let him off after robbing them of their prey: no, no, poor Collins has lost his life in saving us.”
Again the yell was repeated, and from the same quarter. The corporal sprang to the ladder which communicated with the loft, and having placed it under the window on the front, hastily ascended and looked out, for no one had hitherto thought of closing an opening, from which no danger was, seemingly, to be apprehended.
The darkness which had been so excessive at the moment of their entrance, had greatly diminished—so much so, that he could trace the forms of two or three of the warriors who were stooping low, apparently engaged with some object lying on the very bank of the river.
“Scalping and mutilating the poor fellow, no doubt,” he muttered fiercely to himself, “but here goes to revenge him!”
Forgetting his usual prudence, he, in the strong excitement of the moment, drew up the butt of his musket to his shoulder, and as well as his cramped position would permit, covered one of the savages, but while in the very act of pulling the trigger, they all fell prostrate, and the bullet whizzed harmlessly over them. In the next instant a ball, aimed at himself, and fired from another quarter, passed through the window, grazing the shoulder slightly bitten by Loup Garou, and lodged in the opposite logs of the room. A third loud yell followed as the corporal drew in his head and disappeared from the window. The Indians evidently thought he had been hit, and thus gave utterance to their triumph.
“There's that grating sound again,” remarked Weston.
All now listened, and heard much more distinctly than before the peculiar sound. Then followed a scratching and bumping of something heavy against the end of the house.
“I have it,” said the Virginian. “They've dragged the ladder from the barn, and are trying to fix it under the bedroom window. Cass, do you and Philips go in and see what they're doing. But close the door after you that they may not pick you off by the light.”
The door was cautiously opened and again shut as soon as the men had entered. They looked up at the window, which, in the darkness that prevailed around, was distinctly enough visible, but although open, nothing met their glance of a nature to startle them, nor could any movement be heard without.
“Hold my firelock,” whispered Cass to his companion, “while I try and get a look out. I know poor Le Noir's bed is directly under the window, and I don't think THAT is too high, if I stand on the pillow.”
He now cautiously groped his way to the bed, on ascending which, being a tall man, he found the top of his head to be on a level with the sill of the window. This was not sufficient for his purpose, and he sought to elevate himself still more. In attempting, with this view, to place himself on the head-board, he missed his footing, and fell with some force between the head of the bed, and the rode log wall. To his dismay, he found that his feet had rested not upon the hard floor of the apartment, but upon something soft and yielding, which his imagination, strongly excited by the events of the day, led him unhesitatingly to conclude, was the flesh of a human body.
“A light corporal—a light!” he shouted, regardless of every thing, but his desire to release himself from his present situation. “Bring a light. Here's a fellow, who has got hold of me by the leg!”
“Take your musket then and bayonet him,” said Philips, coolly, as he pushed towards the struggling man the butt end of his firelock, which at length reached his hands. At the same time, Corporal Nixon, rendered entered, followed by Weston, bearing the candle.
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