CHAPTER XXII
THE LAST STAND
Henry Ware and the others, listening at the circle of the wagons, heardthe flare of shots, and then, a little later, a lone but long and defiantcry, that seemed to be an answer to the others.
"That's Jim Hart, and he's through!" exclaimed Henry exultantly. "Nowhe'll fairly eat up the ground between here and Wareville."
That night another attack, or rather feint, was made upon the train; butit was easily beaten off, and then morning came, raw and wet. The woodsand grass were dripping with the showers, and a sodden, gray sky chilledand discouraged. The fires were lighted with difficulty and burned weakly.The women and children ate but little, casting fearful glances at therain-soaked forest that circled about them. But Paul, as usual, with hisbright face and brighter words, walked among them, and he told them a goodtale. Long Jim Hart, with muscles and a soul of steel, had gone forth thatnight, and he would bring help. They were to march to a place called theTable Rock, where they would stay until the relief came. Graduallydowncast heads were lifted and sunken spirits rose.
The gantlet began in the usual fashion an hour later, and throughout allthat long, dismal morning it was a continual skirmish. The savages pressedcloser than ever, and all the vigilance and accuracy of the riflemen wereneeded to drive them off. One man was killed and several were wounded, butthe borderers merely shut their teeth down the harder and marched on.
Toward noon they saw a flat-topped hill, with a stony surface, a littlestream running down its side, and Henry uttered a cheerful shout.
"The Table Rock!" he said. "Here we can hold off all the savages in theWest!"
The train increased its slow gait, and all hearts grew lighter. Thesavages, as if determined that the wagons should not gain the shelter,pressed forward, but after a short but fierce combat were driven off, andthe train circled triumphantly up the slope.
It was indeed all that Henry had claimed for it--an ideal place for aprotected camp, easy to defend, difficult to take. Not all the surface wasstone, and there was abundant grazing ground for the horses. The springthat gushed from the side of the hill was inside the lines, and neitherhorse nor man lacked for pure water.
Now they fortified more strongly than ever, throwing up earthworks higherthan before and doubling the sentinels. Fallen wood was plentiful, and atHenry's direction the fires were built high and large in order that theymight drive away discouragement. Then a semblance of cheerfulness made itsappearance, and the women and children began to talk once more.
"Long Jim will go through if any mortal man can," said Henry Ware toDaniel Poe.
"Pray God that he succeeds," said Daniel Poe. "Surely, no wagon train everbefore ran the deadly gantlet that ours has run."
Shif'less Sol strolled into the circle of fires, and sat down with Paul.
"Now, this is what I call true comfort fur a tired man," he said. "Here weare with nuthin' to do but set here an' rest, until somebody comes an'takes us to Wareville. Them savages out thar might save theirselves a heapo' trouble by goin' peacefully away. Makes me think o' that siege o' Troyyou wuz talkin' about, Paul, only we won't let any wooden horse in."
"Maybe there is some likeness," said Paul.
"Maybe thar is," continued Shif'less Sol, in his cheerful tones; "but TomRoss wuz right when he said the way them Greeks an' Trojans fought wasplumb foolish. Do you think that me, Sol Hyde, is goin' to take a tin panan' go beatin' on it down thar among the bushes, an' callin' on thebiggest boaster o' all the savages to come out an' fight me? No, sir; Iwouldn't go fifty yards before I'd tumble over, with a bullet through me."
Most of the people laughed, and the shiftless one continued with random,cheery talk, helping Paul to hearten them. The two succeeded to a greatdegree. There was mourning for the dead, but it was usually silent. Theborderers were too much accustomed to hardship and death to grieve longover the past. They turned themselves to present needs.
The night was rainy, and unusually cold for that time of the year, andHenry Ware rejoiced because of it. The savages in the thickets, despitetheir hardiness, would suffer more than the emigrants in the shelter ofthe wagons. Henry himself, although he caught little naps here and there,seemed to the others able to do without sleep. He kept up an incessantwatch, and his vigilance defeated two attempts of the warriors to creep upin the darkness and pour a fire into the train.
A second day came, and then a third, and the savages resumed theircontinuous skirmishing. A single warrior would creep up, fire a shot, andthen spring away. They did little damage, but they showed that no one wassafe for a moment outside the circle of wagons. If help did not come, theywould never leave their rock.
Time wore on, and the beleaguered camp became again a prey to gloom. Womenand children fell sick, and the hearts of the men were heavy. The ring ofsavages drew closer, and more than once bullets fell inside the circle ofthe wagons. It was hard work now for Paul and Shif'less Sol to keep up thespirits of the women and children, and once, at a council, some one talkedof surrender. They might at least get good treatment.
"Never think of such a thing!" said Henry Ware. "All the men would bekilled, tortured to death, and all the women and children would be takenaway into slavery. Hold on! Jim Hart will surely get through."
But the warriors steadily grew bolder. They seemed to be animated by thecertainty of triumph. Often through the day and night they utteredtaunting shouts, and now and then, in the day time, they would appear atthe edge of the woods and make derisive gestures. Daniel Poe grew gloomy,and sadly shook his head.
"Help must come soon," he said, "or our people will not have spirit tobeat back the savages the next time they try to rush the camp."
"It will come, it will surely come!" said Henry confidently.
The worst night of all arrived. More of the women and children fell sick,and they did not have the energy to build up bright fires. It was to Rossand Shif'less Sol that this task fell; but, though they kept the fireshigh, they accomplished little else. Paul lay down about midnight andslept several hours, but it was a troubled night. The savages did notrest. They were continually flitting about among the trees at the foot ofthe hill, and firing at the sentinels. Little flashes of flame burst outhere and there in the undergrowth, and the crackle of the Indian riflesvexed continually.
Paul rose at the first coming of the dawn, pale, unrested, and anxious. Hewalked to the earthwork, and saw Henry there, watching as always,seemingly tireless. The sun was just shooting above the hills, and Paulknew that a brilliant day was at hand.
"At any rate, Henry," Paul said, "I prefer the day to the night while weare here."
Henry did not reply. A sudden light had leaped into his eye, and he wasbent slightly forward, in the attitude of one who listens intently.
"What is it, Henry?" asked Paul.
Henry lifted his hand for silence. His attitude did not change. Everynerve was strained, but the light remained in his eye.
"Paul," he cried, "don't you hear them? Rifle shots, far away and veryfaint, but they are coming toward us! Long Jim is here, and Wareville withhim!"
Then Paul heard it--the faint, distant patter, as welcome sounds as everreached human ears. He could not mistake it now, as he was too much usedto the crackle of rifle shots to take it for anything else. His face wastransfigured, his eyes shone with vivid light. He sprang upon theearthwork, and cried in tones that rang through all the camp:
"Up, up, men! Long Jim and the Wareville riflemen are coming!"
The train blazed into action. Forth poured the hardy borderers in scores,surcharged now with courage and energy. The firing in front of them hadrisen into a furious battle, and above the roar and the tumult rose thecheering of white men.
"Long Jim has surprised them, and he is half way through already!" criedHenry exultantly. "Now, men, we'll smite 'em on the flank!"
In a moment the whole force of the train, the Amazons included, were intothe very thick of it, while Long Jim and two hundred riflemen, dealingout death
on every side, were coming to meet them. The battle was short.Surprised, caught on both flanks, the savages gave way. There was atremendous firing, a medley of shouts and cries for a few minutes, andthen the warriors of the allied tribes fled deep into the woods, not tostop this time until they were on the other side of the Ohio River.
Forth from the smoke and flame burst a tall, gaunt frame.
"Long Jim!" cried Henry, seizing his hand. "It's you that's saved us,Jim!"
After him came a fine, ascetic face--the Reverend Silas Pennypacker--andhe fairly threw himself upon his beloved pupil, Paul. And then the bravemen from Wareville pressed forward, and some from Marlowe, too, welcomingthese new people, whom they needed so badly, and who had needed them. ButDaniel Poe said solemnly, in the presence of all:
"It is these who saved us in the first instance!"
He indicated the valiant five--Henry Ware, Paul Cotter, Tom Ross,Shif'less Sol Hyde, and Long Jim Hart. And the whole camp, seeing andhearing him, burst into a roar of applause.
The next morning the train resumed its march in peace and safety.
* * * * *
It was a month later, and spring had fully come. Once more the vastwilderness was in deep green, and little wild flowers sprang up here andthere where the sun could reach them. Two youths, unusually alert in faceand figure, were loading pack horses with heavy brown sacks filled tobursting.
"This powder has kept dry and good all through the winter," said thelarger of the youths.
"Yes, Henry," replied the other, "and we are lucky to come back here andbe able to take it into Marlowe, after all."
Henry Ware laughed. It was a low, satisfied laugh.
"We have certainly been through many trials, Paul," he said; "but, withTom, Sol, and Jim, we bore our part in turning the allied tribes back fromthe great war trail."
Paul Cotter's face was illumined.
"Kentucky is saved," he said, "and I shall be happy all my life because ofthe knowledge that we helped."
"It is surely a pleasant thought," said Henry.
Then they whistled to their loaded horses, and marched away through thegreenwood, this time to reach Marlowe in safety.
THE END
The Forest Runners: A Story of the Great War Trail in Early Kentucky Page 23
