CHAPTER II.
THE STORMING OF SINQUEFIELD.
When the news of the massacre at Kimball's reached Fort Glass, adetachment of ten men was sent out to recover the bodies, which theybrought to Fort Sinquefield for burial. The graves were dug in a littlevalley three or four hundred yards from the fort, and all the peoplewent out to attend the funeral. The services had just come to an endwhen the cry of "Indians! Indians!" was raised, and a body of warriors,under the prophet Francis, dashed down from behind a hill, upon thedefenceless people, whose guns were inside the fort. The first impulseof every one was to catch up the little children and hasten inside thegates, but it was manifestly too late. The Indians were already nearerthe fort than they, and were running with all their might, brandishingtheir knives and tomahawks, and yelling like demons.
There seemed no way of escape. Sam Hardwicke took little Judie up in hisarms, and, quick as thought calculated the chances of reaching the fort.Clearly the only way in which he could possibly get there, was byleaving his little sister to her fate and running for his life. But SamHardwicke was not the sort of boy to do anything so cowardly as that.Abandoning the thought of getting to the fort, he called to Tom tofollow him, and with Judie in his arms, he ran into a neighboringthicket, where the three, with Joe, a black boy of twelve or thirteenyears who had followed them, concealed themselves in the bushes. Whetherthey had been seen by the Indians or not, they had no way of knowing,but their only hope of safety now lay in absolute stillness. Theycrouched down together and kept silence.
"What's we gwine to do here, I wonder," whispered the black boy. "Wharmus' we go, Mas Sam?"
Sam did not answer. He was too much absorbed in studying the situationto talk or even to listen. The Indians were coming down upon the whitepeople from every side, and the only wonder was that Sam's little partyhad managed to find a gap in their line big enough to escape through.
"Be patient, Joe," said little Judie, in the calmest voice possible."Brother Sam will take care of us. Give him time. He always does knowwhat to do."
"Be still, Joe," said Sam. "If you talk that Indian'll see us," pointingto one not thirty steps distant, though Joe had not yet seen him.
A terrified "ugh!" was all the reply Joe could make.
Meantime the situation of the fort people was terrible. Cut off from thegates and unarmed, there seemed to be nothing for them to do except tomeet death as bravely and calmly as they could. A young man named IsaacHarden happened to be near the gates, however, on horseback, andaccompanied by a pack of about sixty hounds. And this young man, whosename has barely crept into a corner of history, was both a hero and amilitary genius, and he did right then and there, a deed as brilliantand as heroic as any other in history. Seeing the perilous position ofthe fort people, he raised himself in his stirrups and waving his hat,charged the savages _with his pack of dogs_, whooping and yelling afterthe manner of a huntsman, and leading the fierce bloodhounds right intothe ranks of the infuriated Indians. The dogs being trained to chase andseize any living thing upon which their master might set them, attackedthe Indians furiously, Harden encouraging them and riding down groupafter group of the bewildered savages. Charging right and left with hisdogs, he succeeded in putting the Indians for a time upon the defensive,thus giving the white people time to escape into the fort. When all werein except Sam's party and a Mrs. Phillips who was killed, Harden beganlooking about him for a chance to secure his own safety. His impetuosityhad carried him clear through the Indian ranks, and the savages, havingbeaten the dogs off, turned their attention to the young cavalier whohad balked them in the very moment of their victory. They were betweenhim and the gates, hundreds against one. His dogs were killed orscattered, and he saw at a glance that there was little hope for him.The woods behind him were full of Indians, and so retreat wasimpossible. Turning his horse's head towards the gates, he plunged spursinto his side, and with a pistol in each hand, dashed through the savageranks, firing as he went. Blowing a blast upon his horn to recall thoseof his dogs which were still alive, he escaped on foot into the fort,just in time to let the gate shut in the face of the foremost Indian.His horse, history tells us, was killed under him, and he had fivebullet holes through his clothes, but his skin was unbroken.
SAM'S PARTY.]
Francis and his followers were balked but not beaten. Retiring for a fewminutes behind the hill, they rallied and came again to the assault,more furiously than ever. Their savage instincts were thoroughly arousedby the unexpected defeat they had sustained in the very moment of theirvictory, and they were determined now to take the fort at any cost.Their plan of attack showed the skill of their leader, who was really aman of considerable ability in spite of his fanatical belief in his ownprophetic gifts. He avoided both the errors usually committed by Indianleaders in storming fortified places. He refused, on the one hand, tolet his men waste their powder and their time in desultory firing, and,on the other, he decided not to risk everything on the hazard of asingle assault. His plan was to take the fort by storm, but the stormingwas to be done systematically. Dividing his force into two parts, hesent one to the attack, and held the other back in the hope that thefirst would gain a position so near the stockade as to make the assaultof the second, led by himself, doubly sure of success. The plan was agood one, without doubt, and no man was better qualified than Francis tocarry it out.
When the storming party came, the people in the fort were ready for it.Counting out the women and children, their numbers were not large, butthey were a brave and determined set of men and boys, who knew very wellin what kind of a struggle they were engaged. They reserved their fireuntil the Indians were within thirty yards of the fort, and thendelivered it as rapidly as they could, taking care to waste none of itby random or careless shooting. The fort consisted, as all the borderfortifications did, of a simple stockade, inside of which was ablock-house for the protection of the women and children, and designedalso as a sort of "last ditch," in which a desperate resistance could bemade, even after the fort had been carried. The stockade was made of thetrunks of pine-trees set on end in the ground, close together, butpierced at intervals with port-holes, through which the men of thegarrison could fire. Such a stockade afforded an excellent protectionagainst the bullets and the arrows of the Indians, and gave itsdefenders a great advantage over the assailing force, which must, ofcourse, be exposed to a galling fire from the men behind the barriers.As the stockade was about fifteen feet high, climbing over it was almostwholly out of the question, and the only way to take the fort was torush upon it with fence rails, stop up the port-holes immediately infront, and keep so close to the stockade as to escape the fire frompoints to the right and left, while engaged in cutting down the timberbarrier. If the Indians could do this, their superior numbers wouldenable them to rush in through the opening thus made, and then theblock-house would be the only refuge left to the white people. Theblock-house was a building made of very large timbers, hewed square,laid close upon each other and notched to an exact fit at the ends. Ithad but one entrance, and that was near the top. This could be reachedonly by a ladder, and should the Indians gain access to the fort, thewhites would retire, fighting, to this building, and when all were in,the ladder would be drawn in after them. From the port-holes of theblock-house a fierce fire could be delivered, and as the square timberswere not easily set on fire, a body of Indians must be very determinedindeed, if they succeeded in taking or destroying a block-house. At FortMims, however, they had done so, burning the house over the heads of theinmates.
The reader will understand, from this description of the fort, howpossible it was for the people within it to withstand a very determinedattack, and to inflict heavy loss upon the savages, without sufferingmuch in their turn. Francis's men charged furiously upon the silentstockade, but were sent reeling back as soon as they had come nearenough for the riflemen within to fire with absolute accuracy of aim.Then the second body, under Francis himself, charged, but with nobetter success. A pause followed, and another
charge was made justbefore nightfall.
This time some of the savages succeeded in reaching the stockade andstopping up some of the port-holes. They cut down a part of the picketstoo, and had their friends charged again at once, the fort wouldundoubtedly have been carried. As it was, Francis saw fit to draw offhis men, for the time at least, and retire beyond the hill. What was nowto be done? The attack had been repulsed, but it might be renewed at anymoment. The Indians had suffered considerably, while the casualtieswithin the fort were limited to the loss of one man and one boy. But theobstinate determination of Francis was well known, and it was certainthat he had not finally abandoned his purpose of taking the little fort.He had already demonstrated his ability to carry the place, and it was,at the least, likely that he would come again within twenty-four hours,probably with a larger force, and should he do so, the little garrisonwas not in condition to repel his attack. To remain in the fort,therefore, was certain destruction; but the country was full of savages,and to attempt a march to Fort Glass, fifteen miles away, which was thenearest available place, the other forts being difficult to reach, wasfelt to be almost equally hazardous. A council was held, and it wasfinally determined that the perilous march to Fort Glass must beundertaken at all hazards. Accordingly, not long after nightfall thewhole garrison, men, women and children, stealthily left the fort andsilently crept away to the south.
Sam had seen the dog charge and the escape of the whites into the fort.
"What a fool I was!" he exclaimed, "not to stay where I was! We mighthave got in with the rest of them."
"Why can't we go to de fort now, or leastways, as soon as de Injuns goesaway?" asked Joe.
"They ain't going away," said Sam. "They're going to storm thefort,--look, they're coming right here for a starting-point, and 'll beon top of us in a minute. Come!--don't make any noise, but follow me.Crawl on your hands and knees, and don't raise your heads. Look out forsticks. If you break one, the Indians 'll hear it."
"Mas' Sam--dey's Injuns ahead'n us an' a-comin right torge us too. Lookdar!"
Sam looked, and saw a body of Indians just in front of him coming toreinforce the others. He and his friends were cut off between two bodiesof savages.
"Lie down and be still," he whispered. "It's all we can do--and I'm toblame for it all!"
Big Brother: A Story of Indian War Page 2
