Boy Chums in the Forest; Or, Hunting for Plume Birds in the Florida Everglades
Page 30
CHAPTER XXX
THE ATTACK.
"He has a bare chance yet," declared the outlaw, noting their looks ofgrief. "I will do what I can for him, but I wish I'd been here an hoursooner."
He took a little package from the bosom of his shirt and spread thecontents out upon the table. "I couldn't bring much without arousingsuspicion," he said regretfully, "but I guess I can make out with whatI've brought."
With deft fingers, the newcomer measured out a powder from one of hispackages and administered it to the unconscious lad and next turned hisattention to the wounded leg. Emptying a spoonful of liquid from oneof his bottles into a gourd of water he began to bathe the inflamedlimb.
The hunters could not but admire the deftness and skill with which thestranger worked. His long tapering fingers seemed to have thesuppleness and deftness of a woman's and his whole attention seemedconcentrated upon his patient.
The hours passed slowly away, each seeming a day in length to theanxious hunters. The convicts remained hidden behind the wall andthere was nothing to do but to keep a sharp lookout. At noon thewatchers made a light lunch on the smoked venison and water, but theyoung outlaw waved away the offered food and remained engrossed by thepatient's side. At intervals of a few minutes all during theafternoon, he administered medicine to the sufferer and repeatedlybathed the wounded leg with the solution he had prepared.
The sun was barely an hour high, when he arose from the side of thecouch with a weary sigh. "I think he will live," he announced, "he wasalmost gone for a while, though. I gave him enough strychnine duringthe first few hours to have killed a normal man, but his heart hadweakened so that the stimulant hardly raised his pulse a single beat.The heart action is better now, and with close attention he had oughtto pull through."
"How can we ever repay you for what you have done?" said the oldsailor, with tears of thankfulness in his eyes, while Walter wrung thestranger's hand warmly.
"The saving of many lives will hardly atone for one I took once, thoughthe deed was done in self-defense," said the outlaw gravely. "I amglad to have been of help in this case." He glanced around the roomwith a return of his former light careless manner and noddedapprovingly as he noted the stores of provisions and water. "Good," heexclaimed, "you are better prepared than I expected and certainly inmuch better shape than my former gentle companions dream. Why, it willbe impossible for them to take this place by force."
"Can you tell us of their plans, Mr.----," inquired Walter, hesitatingfor want of a name.
"You may call me Ritter, James Ritter," supplied the outlaw promptly."I am not ashamed of my real name but my relatives had cause to beashamed of its owner in his present condition. Their plans are almostself-evident, my lad. They will wait until dark and then slip over thewall, some will stop in that big building while the balance will maketheir way around to a building on the other side of you. They willthen have you surrounded and have only to watch and wait to starve youout. They have plenty of provisions with them and can get that springbehind the fort without exposing themselves. It is only a question oftime before you will have to give up, and then may the Lord grant usall a speedy death."
"Don't be too sure of it, friend," observed the captain. "The Lordnever deserts those who fully believe and trust him. Those villainsmay be defeated yet."
The outlaw grinned as he looked around the room. "My dear friends arebadly fooled," he chuckled with glee. "They believe the chief is withyou, and he is not here. Why, they have already spent, in imagination,the money that they are going to derive from the sale of his plumes.What a shock it will be to them when they learn that the bird hasflown. I wish I could see their faces when they hear the news."
"The chief is dead," said Walter, "do you think they would go away ifthey knew the truth?"
"No, I do not," replied Ritter, after a moment's thought, "in spite ofall you might say, they would have a suspicion that you had secured theplumes yourselves, and, anyway, they are so mad that they will notleave until they have finished the job."
The hunters were favorably impressed with the frankness of the formeroutlaw. He had the speech and the manners of a gentleman, and hisearnestness and apparent sincerity went far towards removing theirsuspicions, and, much to their surprise, they found themselves soontalking to him with the freedom of old acquaintances.
Ritter chuckled with delight when they told him of the young chiefgoing for aid. "That gives us a fighting chance," he declared,joyfully. "We must put ourselves on short rations and try to hold outuntil they come."
"Where is Indian Charley?" asked Walter, "is he with the others?"
"No, they could not induce him to set foot on the island. The placeevidently has a bad name among the Indians and I am not surprised afterwhat I have seen. Even the convicts are puzzled and a little alarmedby the walls, courts, and buildings. They none of them know enoughabout history to lay them to the Spaniards as you folks have probablydone. Charley, the Indian, swears that there is a mysterious bellwhich tolls every night. Have you heard anything of the kind?"
Walter briefly related their adventure with the bell-ringer, omittingany reference to the captain's superstitious fears, much to the oldsailor's relief.
Further conversation was interrupted by darkness and preparations forthe night.
Chris built a little fire near the door where the smoke would pass outthrough the cracks and prepared a stew of venison and some broth forCharley.
Taking turns the besieged made a hearty meal which did wonders inrenewing hope and courage.
It was decided that they should take short shifts of watching duringthe night, two in each watch. It fell to Walter to share the watchwith the young outlaw, for which he was not at all displeased, for hewas greatly interested in the strange character, and their turns at thewatch passed quickly in pleasant conversation.
The outlaw spoke freely of the incident that had brought him to theconvict gang, claiming firmly that the deed which had made him a felonhad been done in self-defense, but, owing to lack of witnesses and to awell-known enmity between him and the dead man, the jury had brought ina verdict of murder in the second degree.
Walter, under the spell of the man's attractive, strong personality,could not but believe his assertion.
At the end of their watch, Walter awoke Chris and the captain andstretched out for a nap, but the outlaw never closed his eyes duringthe long uneventful night. When not watching, he was hovering overCharley's bedside administering medicine or working over the bittenleg. Yet daylight found him as cool and fresh as ever, apparentlyunaffected by his long vigil.
To the hunters' great delight, day found Charley visibly improved. Hehad fallen into a deep sleep, his body was wet with profuseperspiration, and the swelling of the limb had greatly decreased.
They showered thanks upon the outlaw until he was visibly embarrassedand begged them to say no more.
The morning passed as had the night, without any hostile demonstrationby the convicts. Smoke curling up from the fort and from a building onthe other side of them told the besieged that the enemy had taken uptheir positions during the night as Ritter had prophesied. Evidentlythey were willing to wait for their triumph rather than risk any livesby trying to take their victims by assault.
When Chris started to make a stew for dinner, Ritter stopped him. "Wecan't spare any more water for cooking," he declared. "I have used agood deal on the patient, and the gourds are already almost empty. Ouronly hope of life is in husbanding our water and it would be wise toput ourselves on an allowance now. I figure that there is enough inthat big copper to allow each of us a pint and a half per day for tendays."
The others saw the wisdom of his proposal and immediately agreed to it,and they made their dinner of roasted yams, smoked venison broiledbefore the fire, and a few swallows of water.
Once during the afternoon a convict tried a shot at a crack between theposts barricading the window. The bullet passed through, missingRitter's head
by a scant two inches. The former outlaw never wincedbut began singing mockingly, "Teasing, teasing, I was only teasing you."
A perfect storm of bullets answered his taunt.
"The rascals don't appreciate good singing," he said with a grin.
Charley's condition continued to steadily improve under the outlaw'scareful ministrations and by nightfall, he was conscious once more andcomparatively free from pain.
Night brought no change in the condition of the besieged. Watches werearranged as on the night before, and those off duty retired as soon asdarkness had fallen.
"Do you believe in premonitions," asked Ritter, gravely, as he andWalter stood peering out of the windows. "Do you believe that comingevents cast their shadows before them?"
"I hardly know," answered Walter, thoughtfully, "sometimes I almostbelieve that we are given warnings of coming events, but I can neverquite convince myself that the happenings confirming, for instance, saya dream, are anything more than coincidences."
"A few days ago I would have laughed at such an idea, but all day Ihave had a vague presentiment of coming evil which I have foundimpossible to shake off," explained his companion.
"It's your liver, I dare say," said Walter cheerfully, "for my part, Ifeel that we are going to get out of this hole all right, and livehappy ever after as the story books say."
"There can be but little happiness for me in the future, however, if wecome out of this affair," said his companion sorrowfully. "Death, Isometimes think, would be the best thing that could befall me. I am alife convict, you remember, found guilty by a jury, and condemned topass a life at hard, degrading labor in company with ruffians of thelowest, most debased type. It is not a future to look forward to withpleasure!"
Walter remained silent, he could not but admit the truth of the man'swords and reflect upon the misery of such a life would naturally bringto a man of education and refinement like this one. "You might escape,go to some other state, and begin life anew," he at last suggested."After what you have done for us, and believing you innocent as we nowdo, we should do all we could to help you to get away."
"The life of a fugitive would be worse than that of a convict,"declared the other bitterly. "In every face I would read suspicion,and dread of detection and arrest would haunt me all the time."
Walter could say nothing more to encourage this strange, unfortunatecharacter, and with an effort the other shook off the black mood thathad fallen upon him.
"I guess you're right, it must be my liver," he said lightly. "Afterall there is something in the old jockey saying, "There is nothing to arace but the finish." If I live a convict I can at least die agentleman."
A sympathetic silence fell upon the two that lasted unbroken untiltheir watch ended.