True to the Old Flag: A Tale of the American War of Independence

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER III.

  THE REDSKIN ATTACK.

  Mr. Welch was with the men, two or three hundred yards away from thehouse, when the Indians suddenly sprang out and opened fire. One ofthe men fell beside him; the farmer stooped to lift him, but saw thathe was shot through the head. Then he ran with full speed toward thehouse, shouting to the hands to make straight for the gate,disregarding the cattle. Several of these, however, alarmed at thesudden outburst of fire and the yells of the Indians, made of theirown accord for the stables as their master rushed up at full speed.The Indians were but fifty or sixty yards behind when Mr. Welchreached his gate. They had all emptied their pieces, and after thefirst volley no shots had been fired save one by the watchman on thelookout. Then came the crack of Pearson's rifle just as Mr. Welchshut the gate and laid the bar in its place. Several spare guns hadbeen placed in the upper chambers, and three reports rang outtogether, for Mrs. Welch had run upstairs at the first alarm to takeher part in the defense.

  In another minute the whole party, now six in all, were gathered inthe upper room.

  "Where are Nelly and Harold?" Mr. Welch exclaimed. "I saw the canoeclose to the shore just before the Indians opened fire," the watchmananswered.

  "You must have been asleep," Pearson said savagely. "Where were youreyes to let them redskins crawl up through the corn without seeing'em? With such a crowd of 'em the corn must have been a-waving as ifit was blowing a gale. You ought to have a bullet in yer uglycarkidge, instead of its being in yer mate's out there."

  While this conversation was going on no one had been idle. Each tookup his station at a loop-hole, and several shots were fired wheneverthe movement of a blade of corn showed the lurking place of anIndian.

  The instant the gate had been closed War Eagle had called his menback to shelter, for he saw that all chance of a surprise was nowover, and it was contrary to all redskin strategy to remain for onemoment unnecessarily exposed to the rifles of the whites. The farmerand his wife had rushed at once up into the lookout as the Indiansdrew off and, to their joy, saw the canoe darting away from shore.

  "They are safe for the present, thank God!" Mr. Welch said. "It isprovidential indeed that they had not come a little further from theshore when the redskins broke out. Nothing could have saved them, hadthey fairly started for the house."

  "What will they do, William?" asked his wife anxiously.

  "I cannot tell you, my dear. I do not know what I should do myselfunder the circumstances. However, the boy has got a cool head on hisshoulders, and you need not be anxious for the present. Now let usjoin the others. Our first duty is to take our share in the defenseof the house. The young ones are in the hands of God. We can donothing for them."

  "Well?" Pearson asked, looking round from hisloop-hole as the farmer and his wife descended into the room, whichwas a low garret extending over the whole of the house. "Do you seethe canoe?"

  "Yes, it has got safely away," William Welch said; "but what the ladwill do now is more than I can say."

  Pearson placed his rifle against the wall. "Now keep your eyesskinned," he said to the three farm hands.

  "One of yer's done mischief enough this morning already, and you'llget your har raised, as sure as you're born, unless you look outsharp. Now," he went on, turning to the Welches, "let us go down andtalk this matter over. The Injuns may keep on firing, but I don'tthink they'll show in the open again as long as it's light enough forus to draw bead on 'em. Yes," he went on, as he looked through aloop-hole in the lower story over the lake, "there they are, just outof range."

  "What do you think they will do?" Mrs. Welch asked.

  The hunter was silent for a minute.

  "It aint a easy thing to say what they ought to do, much less whatthey will do; it aint a good outlook anyway, and I don't know what Ishould do myself. The whole of the woods on this side of the lake arefull of the darned red critters. There's a hundred eyes on that canoenow, and, go where they will, they'll be watched."

  "But why should they not cross the lake and land on the other side?"Mr. Welch said.

  "If you and I were in that canoe," the hunter answered, "that's aboutwhat we should do; but, not to say that it's a long row for 'em, theytwo young uns would never get across; the Injuns would have 'embefore they had been gone an hour. There's my canoe lying under thebushes; she'd carry four, and would go three feet to their two."

  "I had forgotten about that," William Welch said, and then added,after a pause: "The Indians may not find it."

  "You needn't hope that," the hunter answered; "they have found itlong before this. I don't want to put you out of heart; but I tell yeye'll see them on the water before many minutes have passed."

  "Then they are lost," Mrs. Welch said, sinking down in her chair andbursting into tears.

  "They air in God's hands, ma'am," the hunter said, "and it's no usetrying to deceive you."

  "Would it be of any use," William Welch asked, after a pause, "for meto offer the redskins that my wife and I will go out and putourselves in their hands if they will let the canoe go off withoutpursuit?"

  "Not it," the hunter replied decidedly. "You would be throwing awayyour own lives without saving theirs, not to mention, although thatdoesn't matter a straw, the lives of the rest of us here. It will beas much as we can do, when they attack us in earnest, to hold thisplace with six guns, and with only four the chance would be worthnothing. But that's neither here nor there. You wouldn't save theyoung ones if you gave yourselves up. You can't trust the word of anInjun on the war-path, and if they went so far as not to kill 'emthey would carry 'em off; and, after all, I aint sure as death aintbetter for 'em than to be brought up as Injuns. There," he said,stopping suddenly as a report of a musket sounded at some littledistance off, "the Injuns are trying their range against 'em. Let'sgo up to the lookout."

  The little tower had a thick parapet of logs some three feet high,and, crouching behind this, they watched the canoe. "He's comingnearer in shore, and the girl has got the paddle," Pearson muttered."What's he doing now?" A puff of smoke was seen to rise near theborder of the lake; then came the sharp crack of Harold's rifle. Theysaw an Indian spring from the bushes and fall dead.

  "Well done, young un!" Pearson exclaimed. "I told yer he'd got hishead screwed on the right way. He's keeping just out of range oftheir guns, and that piece of his can carry twice as far as theirs. Ireckon he's thought of the canoe, and means to keep 'em from usingit. I begins to think, Mr. Welch, that there's a chance for 'em yet.Now let's talk a little to these red devils in the corn."

  For some little time Pearson and William Welch turned their attentionto the Indians, while the mother sat with her eyes fixed upon thecanoe.

  "He is coming closer again," she exclaimed presently.

  "He's watching the canoe, sure enough," Pearson said. Then came thevolley along the bushes on the shore, and they saw an Indian rise tohis feet.

  "That's just where she lies!" Pearson exclaimed; "he's getting intoit. There! well done, young un."

  The sudden disappearance of the Indian and the vengeful yell of thehidden foe told of the failure of the attempt.

  "I think they're safe, now, till nightfall. The Injuns won't careabout putting themselves within range of that 'ere rifle again."

  Gradually the fire of the Indians ceased, and the defenders were ableto leave the loop-holes. Two of the men went down and fastened up thecattle, which were still standing loose in the yard inside thestockade; the other set to to prepare a meal, for Mrs. Welch couldnot take her eyes off the canoe.

  The afternoon seemed of interminable length. Not a shot was fired.The men, after taking their dinner, were occupied in bringing somegreat tubs on to the upper story and filling them to the brim withwater from the well. This story projected two feet beyond the onebelow it, having been so built in order that, in case of attack, thedefenders might be able to fire down upon any foe who might cross thestockade and attack the house itself; the floor boards over theprojecting portion were all removable
. The men also brought aquantity of the newly cut corn to the top of the house, firstdrenching it with water.

  The sun sank, and as dusk was coming on the anxious watchers saw thecanoe paddle out far into the lake.

  "An old frontiersman couldn't do better," Pearson exclaimed. "He'skept them out of the canoe as long as daylight lasted; now he hasdetermined to paddle away and is making down the lake," he went onpresently. "It's a pity he turned so soon, as they can see the coursehe's taking."

  They watched until it was completely dark; but, before the lightquite faded, they saw another canoe put out from shore and start inthe direction taken by the fugitives.

  "Will they catch them, do you think?" Mrs. Welch asked.

  "No, ma'am," Pearson said confidently. "The boy's got sense enough tohave changed his course after it gets dark, though whether he'll makefor shore or go out toward the other side is more than I can say. Yousee, they'll know that the Injuns are all along this side of thelake; but then, on the other hand, they'll be anxious about us and'll want to keep close at hand. Besides, the lad knows nothing of theother side; there may be Injuns there, for aught he knows, and it's askeary thing for a young un to take to the forest, especially with agal in his charge. There aint no saying what he'll do. And now we'vegot to look after ourselves; don't let us think about 'em at present.The best thing as we can do for them, as well as for ourselves, is tohold this here place. If they live they'll come back to it sooner orlater, and it 'll be better for 'em to find it standing, and you hereto welcome 'em, than to get back to a heap of ruins and some deadbodies."

  "When will the redskins attack, do you think?" the farmer asked.

  "We may expect 'em any time, now," the hunter answered. "The Injuns'time of attack is generally just before dawn, but they know wellenough they aint likely to ketch us asleep any time, and, as theyknow exactly what they have got to do they'll gain nothing bywaiting. I wish we had a moon; if we had, we might keep 'em out ofthe stockade. But there--it's just as well it's dark, after all; for,if the moon was up, the young ones would have no chance of gettingaway."

  The garrison now all took their places at the loop-holes, havingfirst carried the wet fodder to the roof and spread it over theshingles. There was nothing to do now but to wait. The night was sodark that they could not see the outline of the stockade. Presently alittle spark shot through the air, followed by a score of others. Mr.Welch had taken his post on the tower, and he saw the arrows whizzingthrough the air, many of them falling on the roof. The dry grassdipped in resin, which was tied round the arrow-heads, was instantlyextinguished as the arrows fell upon the wet corn, and a yell arosefrom the Indians.

  The farmer descended and told the others of the failure of theIndians' first attempt.

  "That 'ere dodge is a first-rate un," Pearson said. "We're safe fromfire, and that's the only thing we've got to be afeared on. You'llsee 'em up here in a few minutes."

  Everything was perfectly quiet. Once or twice the watchers thoughtthat they could hear faint sounds, but could not distinguish theirdirection. After half an hour's anxious waiting a terrible yell washeard from below, and at the doors and windows of the lower roomscame the crashing blows of tomahawks.

  The boards had already been removed from the flooring above, and thedefenders opened a steady fire into the dark mass that they couldfaintly make out clustered round the windows and doors. At Pearson'ssuggestion the bullets had been removed from the guns and heavycharges of buckshot had been substituted for them, and yells of painand surprise rose as they fired. A few shots were fired up frombelow, but a second discharge from the spare guns completed theeffect from the first volley. The dark mass broke up and, in a fewseconds, all was as quiet as before.

  Two hours passed, and then slight sounds were heard. "They've got thegate opened, I expect," Pearson said. "Fire occasionally at that; ifwe don't hit 'em the flashes may show us what they're doing."

  It was as he had expected. The first discharge was followed by a cry,and by the momentary light they saw a number of dark figures pouringin through the gate. Seeing that concealment was no longer possible,the Indians opened a heavy fire round the house; then came a crashingsound near the door.

  "Just as I thought," Pearson said. "They're going to try to burn usout."

  For some time the noise continued, as bundle after bundle of driedwood was thrown down by the door. The garrison were silent; for, asPearson said, they could see nothing, and a stray bullet might enterat the loop-holes if they placed themselves there, and the flashes ofthe guns would serve as marks for the Indians.

  Presently two or three faint lights were seen approaching.

  "Now," Pearson said, "pick 'em off as they come up. You and I'll takethe first man, Welch. You fire just to the right of the light, I willfire to the left; he may be carrying the brand in either hand."

  They fired together, and the brand was seen to drop to the ground.The same thing happened as the other two sparks of light approached;then it was again quiet. Now a score of little lights flashed throughthe air.

  "They're going to light the pile with their flaming arrows," Pearsonsaid. "War Eagle is a good leader."

  Three or four of the arrows fell on the pile of dry wood. A momentlater the flames crept up and the smoke of burning wood rolled upinto the room above. A yell of triumph burst from the Indians, butthis changed into one of wrath as those above emptied the contents ofone of the great tubs of water on to the pile of wood below them. Theflames were instantly extinguished.

  "What will they do next?" Mrs. Welch asked.

  "It's like enough," Pearson replied, "that they'll give the job upaltogether. They've got plenty of plunder and scalps at thesettlements, and their attacking us here in such force looks as ifthe hull of 'em were on their way back to their villages. If theycould have tuk our scalps easy they would have done it; but War Eagleaint likely to risk losing a lot of men when he aint sartin ofwinning, after all. He has done good work as it is, and has quiteenough to boast about when he gets back. If he were to lose a heap ofhis braves here it would spoil the success of his expedition. No, Ithink as he will give it up now."

  "He will be all the more anxious to catch the children," Mrs. Welchsaid despondently.

  "It can't be denied, ma'am, as he will do his best that way," Pearsonanswered. "It all depends, though, on the boy. I wish I was with himin that canoe. Howsomever, I can't help thinking as he willsarcumvent 'em somehow."

  The night passed without any further attack. By turns half thegarrison watched while the other lay down, but there was little sleeptaken by any. With the first gleam of daylight Mrs. Welch and herhusband were on the lookout.

  "There's two canoes out on the lake," Pearson said. "They're paddlingquietly; which is which I can't say."

  As the light became brighter Pearson pronounced, positively, thatthere were three men in one canoe and four in the other.

  "I think they're all Injuns," he said. "They must have got anothercanoe somewhere along the lake. Waal, they've not caught the younguns yet."

  "The boats are closing up to each other," Mrs. Welch said. "They'regoing to have a talk, I reckon. Yes, one of 'em's turning and goingdown the lake, while the other's going up. I'd give a heap to knowwhere the young uns have got to."

  The day passed quietly. An occasional shot toward the house showedthat the Indians remained in the vicinity and, indeed, dark formscould be seen moving about in the distant parts of the clearing.

  "Will it be possible," the farmer asked Pearson, when night againfell, "to go out and see if we can discover any traces of them?"

  "Worse than no use," Pearson said positively. "We should just loseour har without doing no good whatever. If the Injuns in thesewoods--and I reckon altogether there's a good many hundred of'em--can't find 'em, ye may swear that we can't. That's just whatthey're hoping, that we'll be fools enough to put ourselves outsidethe stockade. They'll lie close round all night, and a weaselwouldn't creep through 'em. Ef I thought there was jest a shadow ofchance of finding
them young uns I'd risk it; but there's nochance--not a bit of it."

  A vigilant watch was again kept up all night, but all was still andquiet. The next morning the Indians were still round them.

  "Don't ye fret, ma'am!" Pearson said, as he saw how pale and wan Mrs.Welch looked in the morning light. "You may bet your last shillingthat they're not caught 'em."

  "Why are you so sure?" Mrs. Welch asked. "They may be dead by thistime."

  "Not they, ma'am! I'm as sartin as they're living and free as I amthat I'm standing here. I know these Injuns' ways. Ef they had caught'em they'd jest have brought 'em here and would have fixed up twoposts, jest out of rifle range, and would have tied them there andoffered you the choice of giving up this place and your scalps or ofseeing them tortured and burned under your eyes. That's their way.No, they aint caught 'em alive, nor they aint caught 'em deadneither; for, ef they had they'd have brought their scalps to haveshown yer. No, they've got away, though it beats me to say how. I'veonly got one fear, and that is that they might come back before theInjuns have gone. Now I tell ye what we had better do--we better keepup a dropping fire all night and all day to-morrow, and so on, untilthe redskins have gone. Ef the young uns come back across the lake atnight, and all is quiet, they'll think the Injuns have takenthemselves off; but, if they hear firing still going on, they'll knowwell enough that they're still around the house."

  William Welch at once agreed to this plan, and every quarter of anhour or so all through the night a few shots were fired. The nextmorning no Indians could be seen, and there was a cessation of thedropping shots which had before been kept up at the house.

  "They may be in hiding," Pearson said in the afternoon, "trying totempt us out; but I'm more inclined to think as how they've gone. Idon't see a blade of that corn move; I've had my eyes fixed on it forthe last two hours. It are possible, of course, that they're there,but I reckon not. I expect they've been waiting, ever since they gaveup the attack, in hopes that the young uns would come back; but now,as they see that we're keeping up a fire to tell them as how they'restill round us, they've given it up and gone. When it gets darkto-night I'll go out and scout round."

  At ten o'clock at night Pearson dropped lightly from the stockade onthe side opposite to the gate, as he knew that, if the Indians werethere, this would be the point that they would be watching; then,crawling upon his stomach, he made his way slowly down to the lake.Entering the water and stooping low, he waded along the edge of thebushes for a distance of a mile; then he left the water and struckinto the forest. Every few minutes he could hear the discharge of therifles at the house; but, as before, no answering shots were heard.Treading very cautiously, he made a wide _detour_ and then came downagain on the clearing at the end furthest from the lake, where theIndians had been last seen moving about. All was still. Keeping amongthe trees and moving with great caution, he made his way, for aconsiderable distance, along the edge of the clearing; then hedropped on his hands and knees and entered the cornfield, and for twohours he crawled about, quartering the ground like a dog in search ofgame. Everywhere he found lines where the Indians had crawled alongto the edge nearest to the house, but nowhere did he discover a signof life. Then, still taking great care, he moved down toward thehouse and made a circuit of it a short distance outside the stockade;then he rose to his feet.

  "Yer may stop shooting," he shouted. "The pesky rascals are gone."Then he walked openly up to the gate; it was opened at once byWilliam Welch.

  "Are you sure they have gone?" he asked.

  "Sure as gospel," he answered, "and they've been gone twenty-fourhours at least."

  "How do you know that?"

  "Easy enough. I found several of their cooking places in the woods;the brands were out, and even under the ashes the ground was cold, sothey must have been out for a long time. I could have walked straighton to the house, then, but I thought it safer to make quite sure bysearching everywhere, for they might have moved deeper into theforest, and left a few men on guard here, in case the young unsshould come back. But it aint so; they've gone, and there aint aliving soul anywhere nigh the clearing. The young uns can come backnow, if they will, safely enough."

  Before doing anything else the farmer assembled the party together inthe living room, and there solemnly offered up thanks to God fortheir deliverance from danger, and implored his protection for theabsent ones. When this was over he said to his wife:

  "Now, Jane; you had better lie down and get a few hours' sleep. It isalready two o'clock, and there is no chance whatever of theirreturning tonight, but I shall go down to the lake and wait tillmorning. Place candles in two of the upper windows. Should they beout on the lake they will see them and know that the Indians have nottaken the house."

  Morning came, without any signs of the absent ones. At daybreakPearson went out to scout in the woods, and returned late in theafternoon with the news that the Indians had all departed, and that,for a distance of ten miles at least, the woods were entirely free.

  When it became dark the farmer again went down to the lake andwatched until two, when Pearson took his place. Mr. Welch was turningto go back to the house when Pearson placed his hand on his shoulder.

  "Listen!" he said; and for a minute the men stood immovable.

  "What was it?" the farmer asked.

  "I thought I heard the stroke of a paddle," Pearson said; "it mighthave been the jump of a fish. There! there it is again!" He lay downand put his ear close to the water. "There's a canoe in the lake tothe north'ard. I can hear the strokes of the paddle plainly."

  Mr. Welch could hear nothing. Some minutes passed, then Pearsonexclaimed:

  "There! I saw a break in the water over there! There it is!" he said,straining his eyes in the darkness. "That's a canoe, sure enough,although they have ceased paddling. It's not a mile away."

  Then he rose to his feet and shouted "Halloo!" at the top of hisvoice. An answering shout faintly came back across the water. Heagain hailed loudly, and this time the answer came in a female voice.

  "It's them, sure enough. I can swear to Nelly's voice."

  William Welch uncovered his head and, putting his hand before hisface, returned fervent thanks to God for the recovery of his child.Then he dashed off at full speed toward the house. Before he reachedit however, he met his wife running down to meet him, the shoutshaving informed her that something was seen. Hand in hand they randown to the water's edge. The canoe was now swiftly approaching. Themother screamed:

  "Nelly! is that you?"

  "Mamma! mamma!" came back in the girl's clear tones.

  With a low cry of gladness Mrs. Welch fell senseless to the ground.The strain which she had for four days endured had been terrible, andeven the assurances of Pearson had failed to awaken any strongfeeling of hope in her heart. She had kept up bravely and had goneabout her work in the house with a pale, set face, but the unexpectedrelief was too much for her. Two minutes later the bow of the canoegrated on the shore, and Nelly leaped into her father's arms.

  "Where is mamma?" she exclaimed. "She is here, my dear, but she hasfainted. The joy of your return has been too much for her."

  Nelly knelt beside her mother and raised her head, and the farmergrasped Harold's hand.

  "My brave boy," he said, "I have to thank you for saving my child'slife. God bless you!"

  He dipped his hat in the lake and sprinkled water in his wife's face.She soon recovered and, a few minutes afterward, the happy partywalked up to the house, Mrs. Welch being assisted by her husband andPearson. The two young ones were soon seated at a table, ravenouslydevouring food, and, when their hunger was satisfied, they relatedthe story of their adventures, the whole of the garrison beinggathered round to listen. After relating what had taken place up tothe time of their hiding the canoe, Harold went on:

  "We walked about a quarter of a mile until we came to a large clumpof underwood. We crept in there, taking great pains not to break atwig or disturb a leaf. The ground was, fortunately, very dry, and Icould see that o
ur footprints had not left the smallest marks. Therewe have lain hid ever since. We had the fish and the berries, and,fortunately, the fruit was ripe and juicy and quenched our thirstwell enough, and we could, sometimes, hear the firing by day, andalways at night. On the day we took refuge we heard the voices of theIndians down toward the lake quite plainly, but we have heard nothingof them since. Last night we heard the firing up to the middle of thenight, and then it suddenly stopped. To-day I crept out and went downto the lake to listen; but it seemed that everything was still. Nellywas in a terrible way, and was afraid that the house had been takenby the Indians, but I told her that could not be, for that therewould certainly have been a tremendous lot of firing at last, whereasit stopped, after a few shots, just as it had been going on so long.Our provisions were all gone and Nelly was getting very bad for wantof water. I, of course, got a drink at the lake this morning. So weagreed that, if everything was still again to-night, we would go backto the place where we had hidden the canoe, launch it, and paddlehere. Everything was quiet, so we came along as we had arranged. WhenI saw the lights in the windows I made sure all was right: still itwas a great relief when I heard the shout from the shore. I knew, ofcourse, that it wasn't a redskin's shout. Besides, Indians would havekept quiet till we came alongside."

  Very hearty were the commendations bestowed on the boy for hiscourage and thoughtfulness.

  "You behaved like an old frontiersman," Pearson said. "I couldn'thave done better myself. You only made one blunder from the time youset out from shore."

  "What was that?" Harold asked.

  "You were wrong to pick the berries. The redskins, of course, wouldfind where you had landed, they'd see the marks where you lay down,and would know that you had paddled away again. Had it not been fortheir seeing the tracks you made in picking the berries they mighthave, supposed you had started before daybreak, and had gone out ofsight across the lake; but them marks would have shown 'em that youdid not take to your canoe until long after the sun was up, andtherefore that you couldn't have made across the lake without theirseeing you, but must either have landed or be in your canoe undershelter of the trees somewhere along the shore. It's a marvel to methat they didn't find your traces, however careful you were toconceal 'em. But that's the only error you made, and I tell you,young un, you have a right to be proud of having outwitted a hulltribe of redskins."