Afar in the Forest

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER NINE.

  THE SETTLERS DETERMINE TO ACCEPT MR. SPARKS' OFFERS--LILY'S SORROW ATLEAVING THE OLD SETTLEMENT--MODE OF ADVANCE--SABBATH OBSERVANCE ON THEMARCH--WE ARE LEFT BEHIND, IN CONSEQUENCE OF OUR WAGGON BREAKING DOWN--OUR GREAT WANT OF WATER--A DANGEROUS DESCENT--THE HORRID SPECTACLE OFTHE WOLVES--OUR OXEN FLAGGING, I PROCEED FORWARD ALONE IN THE DIRECTIONOF A FIRE IN THE DISTANCE--MY JOY UPON DISCOVERING OUR FRIENDS--REUBENOFFERS TO ACCOMPANY ME BACK--WE GET LOST--FAITHFUL MIKE FINDS US--STRANGE HORSEMEN--MIKE, REUBEN, AND I TAKEN PRISONERS BY THE SIOUX.

  The fire gave more support to the schemes of Mr Sparks than did all hisarguments and glowing descriptions. Mr Claxton, my uncles, and most ofthe settlers who possessed the means of transport, resolved to accepthis offers, and at once prepared for the journey. Those who had nowaggons made up their minds to remain where they were, and to cultivatethe ground, which the ashes would render more fertile than before. Thegrass, after the first rain, would spring up and afford a rich pasturefor their cattle; and the charred trunks would enable them to rebuildtheir log-huts and put up fences. I had reason afterwards to believethat they chose the wisest course; though at the time I was well pleasedat the thought of the long journey we were to take, and the adventureswe might expect to meet with.

  I was surprised to find that Lily did not enter into my feelings. "Iwould far rather have stayed where we were," she said. "The trees wouldsoon have become green again, and we could have cultivated the ground asbefore, and the river and hills would have remained the same; though, asUncle Stephen and aunt, and you, Roger, wish it, I am ready to go."

  My uncles had saved a bag of dollars, and the Claxtons and others wereprovided with cash. Therefore, as soon as the country was sufficientlycool to enable the waggons to move, two were sent off to the eastward tobring back such stores as were required; while the main body began tomove southward, along the bank of the river, to a spot where we intendedto cross.

  Our course for some distance was to be to the southward; after which wewere to turn to the south-west till we reached the prairie. I cannotdescribe each day's journey. In front marched a body of a dozen men,with their axes, to clear the road. The waggons, drawn by long teams ofoxen, followed; and the loose cattle, driven by the younger men andboys, brought up the rear.

  While no fears existed of an attack from the Indians, the axemengenerally marched a day in advance of us, to cut a road through thewoods. Another party, acting as hunters, ranged on one side or theother of the line of march in search of deer, bears, or any otheranimals, and birds; and they contrived, when possible, to reach thecamping-ground an hour or two before the waggons, so that they might getthe fires lighted, and have the game they had killed cooking on thespits, in readiness for the women and children. Reuben and I undertookto hunt, since we were as good shots as any of the emigrants. We alwayswent together, and seldom failed to bring in game of some sort.

  As evening approached we made our way towards the spot fixed on for theencampment. Before nightfall the main body usually arrived, and thewaggons were arranged in a circle, so as to form a sort of fortificationin case of attack from the Indians: though we had no great reason toapprehend such an event at that period of our journey. No time was lostin commencing supper; and as soon as it was over the women and childrenwent to rest inside the waggons, while the men not on guard lay downeither under them or in the neighbourhood of the fires. A spot wasalways chosen--either by the side of a stream or near some pool--wherethe cattle could find water and good grass. They were then turned outto graze, under charge of a few armed men. Of course, we all kept ourrifles by our sides, so that we might be ready to defend ourselves at amoment's notice.

  We met with very few Indians, and those we fell in with seemed disposedto be friendly. They saw that we were merely passing through theirhunting-grounds, and had apparently no objection to our killing thecomparatively small amount of game we met with. Had we shown anyintention of settling, the case might have been different.

  We thus pushed on for many days together, halting only on the Sabbath,to obtain the rest which both we and our cattle required. This was aday we all enjoyed. One of the elders conducted a service, and thewilderness we were traversing resounded for the time with praise andprayer.

  Thus we travelled on day after day; but we made but slow progressthrough the densely-wooded country, having sometimes to cut our way amidthe trees, though we were generally able to find a passage withoutfelling them. Occasionally, however, we were compelled to do even that,and to drag the huge trunks out of the road, before the waggons couldproceed. We had also frequently to cross rivers. When no ford could befound, we built large rafts, on which the waggons were ferried over,while the oxen gained the opposite bank by swimming. They wereaccustomed to the undertaking; and, strange as it may seem, we neverlost any by this means.

  At length we gained an open but more desert region. The ground wasstony and uneven, and we had rocky hills to ascend and dark gorges topass through. Water was scarce, and we had often to carry sufficient tosupply our wants for a couple of days; while our cattle suffered greatlyfrom thirst. We could no longer hunt in small parties, for fear ofencountering hostile Indians; but we were able to kill game withoutgoing to any great distance from the camp, as we found several speciesof deer inhabiting those wilds.

  My uncle's waggon was one day bringing up the rear of the train; and ourwater being nearly exhausted, we were pushing forward as fast as theoxen could move, in the hope of reaching a stream before dark, when oneof the wheels came off, and the waggon, in falling over, sufferedconsiderable damage. Under other circumstances, the train would havestopped till our waggon was put to rights; but as most of the oxen weresuffering from thirst, and many of the party had no water remaining, itwas important for them to push forward without delay. We were thereforecompelled to remain by ourselves; but no Indians had as yet been seen inthis part of the country, and we hoped that we should escape withoutbeing attacked.

  My uncles were not men to be frightened by difficulties. They and Mike,with Quambo and I, immediately set to work to do what was necessary. Weunloaded the waggon, and commenced repairing the damage it had received.This, however, took us some time, and it was quite dark before we gotthe wheel on again and the waggon reloaded. Having been more providentthan the rest of the party, we were able to wet our beasts' muzzles, andstill have sufficient water to last ourselves for a few hours.

  As we wished to overtake our companions as soon as possible, weimmediately pushed forward, and soon got into a somewhat more levelcountry than we had lately been passing through; but the ground was veryhard, and in the darkness we could not perceive the tracks made by thosein advance. Had an Indian guide been with us, he would undoubtedly havediscovered them; but we had to trust to our own sagacity, and we had notgone far when we found that we had got out of the right road. We didour utmost to regain it, but in vain. Still, believing that we weregoing in the proper direction, we proceeded onwards. The stars came outbrightly from the sky, and we shaped our course as directly as we couldby them.

  While Uncle Stephen drove, Uncle Mark and I, with Mike and Quambo,marched on either side, our faithful dogs following at our heels. Wekept a look-out in every direction, lest we should chance to be observedby a band of Indians, who, seeing a small party, might pounce down uponus; still, we were all accustomed to look on the bright side of things,and though we were aware of the possible danger, we were notunnecessarily alarmed. Our chief anxiety arose from a fear of notfinding water for our thirsty beasts. They might hold out during thecool hours of night; but should they not be supplied with the necessaryfluid, they must in a short time succumb, and dreadful indeed would bethe consequences to ourselves.

  When I occasionally went up to the waggon, I found Aunt Hannah and Lilyawake. They kept up their spirits very well, and naturally inquiredwhether we had as yet discovered the track of those who had gone before.

  "Not yet," I answered in as cheerful a voice as I could com
mand; "but wesoon shall, I dare say; and, at all events, we are going in the rightdirection. The stars are shining brightly, and by them Uncle Stephencan guide the waggon as well as if we had the train of our friends inview. But we shall soon be up with them, I hope, and find them allcomfortably encamped."

  "I trust that we may," said Aunt Hannah, "if not, we shall find water, Isuppose, in a few hours, and we shall certainly overtake themto-morrow."

  This showed what was passing in her mind. She had begun to suspect--what really was the case--that we had widely deviated from our course.One thing was very certain,--that it would be destruction to stop; so,although our oxen were beginning to show signs of fatigue, and we feltour own legs aching, we continued to move forward.

  At length, about a couple of hours before dawn, we arrived at the edgeof a ravine, the sides of which, though not precipitous, appeared to be_very_ steep, and down which it would have been madness to attempttaking the waggon in the dark. We must either stop, or try to find apassage across to the north or south. We had observed that the valleysalready passed by us were shallower to the southward; we thereforeturned our waggon in that direction, hoping shortly to discover apracticable path, though we suspected that it would lead us even furtherfrom the track of our friends.

  We went on and on, fancying that we could discern the bottom of thevalley more clearly than at first, and hoping soon to discover asufficiently gentle slope which we might be able to descend. But wewere deceived, and though Uncle Mark and I made our way down in severalplaces, we saw that the waggon would certainly be upset should weattempt to get it down. We were almost in despair of success, for theravine appeared to run on to the southward with equally rugged sides asat first. The panting oxen, too, could scarcely drag on the waggon, andwe began to fear that they would fall unless water should be found. Weurged them on, however, for stopping to rest would not avail them, andmight prove our destruction.

  Morning at length broke, when we saw a hill before us which seemed to bethe termination of the ravine; and as the light increased, to our joy wecaught sight of a silvery line of water making its way along the courseof the valley. Our eagerness to reach the bottom was now greater thanever; and we could with difficulty restrain the oxen from rushing downthe bank. We had to keep at their heads, indeed, to prevent themattempting so mad a performance.

  On we went, till we saw before us what we had so long been lookingfor,--a gentle slope which it would be easy to descend, while on theopposite side the ground was equally favourable for again ascending tothe same elevation as before. Putting the drag on the wheel, wecommenced the undertaking; and though I more than once feared that thewaggon would be upset, we reached the bottom in safety. Then,immediately unyoking the tired oxen, we hurried to the fountain-head toobtain water, while they rushed to a pool close below it, where theycould more easily drink. Near at hand was an abundance of fresh grass,with which they quickly recruited their strength.

  Aunt Hannah and Lily offered to watch while we lay down and took thesleep we so much required.

  "I will keep a look-out all round, and if I see any suspicious Indiansapproaching I'll scream loud enough to wake you all," said Lily, half injoke, as if she were not at all anxious on the subject.

  "One thing is very certain,--if they do come, we cannot run away fromthem," observed Uncle Mark. "We must hope that they will provefriendly, for if not we shall have to beat them or be cut to pieces.However, we will trust to your watchfulness, and pick up a littlestrength to continue our journey."

  We accordingly lay down under the waggon, and in less than a minute werefast asleep.

  We rested till about ten o'clock, when Aunt Hannah, as Uncle Stephen haddesired, awoke us. Not a human being had approached the valley, thoughshe said that she had seen some creatures moving along on the top of theheights; but what they were she could not make out, though they did notlook, she thought, like deer.

  Having taken a hurried meal, we again yoked the oxen; and going behindwith crowbars to assist, we commenced the ascent of the hill. It washarder work than we expected, but, by making a zigzag course, in abouthalf an hour we got to the top. Looking ahead, the country appeared tobe pretty level, with rocky hills rising out of it in variousdirections, but we expected to have no difficulty in making our onwardway. We had filled all our skin-bottles with water, and even should wemeet with no more till the following day the cattle would not materiallysuffer.

  My uncles were of opinion that we had crossed near the source of thestream at which the rest of the party must have stopped, and that byverging to the right we should fall upon their tracks, although we didnot expect to meet with them till the close of the day, owing to thedirection we were taking. They might possibly have sent back to helpus; but as they had not many men to spare, it was more likely that theywould push forward, expecting us ultimately to overtake them. We kept alook-out for water as we went along, that we might allow our animals todrink, and thus be able to continue our journey the next day althoughnone should be found at the camping-ground. Still, though we went onand on, no signs could we discover of our friends. Already the sun wassinking towards the west.

  I had gone on ahead, and made my way up a hill over which we should haveto pass, that I might obtain before sunset a wide view around, when Isaw some way before me a number of creatures moving about. They seemedto be very busy, but what they were doing I could not make out. Someobjects lay near them on the ground. I hastened on, and when I gotnearer I perceived that the objects were broken pieces of waggons,--several wheels, and portions of the woodwork,--while the animals, I hadno doubt, were wolves, from the horrid sounds which reached me; amixture of snarling, yelping, barking, and growling, for I cannototherwise describe the noise made by the creatures.

  Not wishing to approach closer by myself, I returned to tell my uncleswhat I had seen. Uncle Mark and Quambo accompanied me back, and as wegot nearer the wolves looked up and snarled at us, and continued theiroccupation; but what was our horror, on advancing a little further, todiscover that they were feeding on the dead bodies of a number ofpersons stretched on the ground! A dreadful fear seized us. Could theybe those of our late companions? I shuddered, and burst into tears.

  Yes! there could be no doubt about it, I thought. There lay those wehad lately parted from in health and strength, cruelly murdered, and nowthe prey of the savage wolves. Our friends the Claxtons!--Dora! honestReuben! and their parents!

  Then the fearful thought that such might ere long be our fate came overme.

  "Can none have escaped?" I exclaimed.

  Uncle Mark advanced a few paces nearer the wolves, with his gun, readyto fire should they attack him. He was looking at a man whom the wolveshad not yet torn to pieces. Apparently he was only just dead, and hadprobably defended himself to the last, keeping his assailants at bay.

  "That man did not belong to our party," I heard Uncle Mark cry out."These people must have formed part of another emigrant-train."

  Quambo and I ran up to him. We then shouted together, and some of thewolves nearest to us, startled by our approach, left their prey, when wewere convinced, by the dresses of the corpses, that Uncle Mark's surmisewas correct. This discovery somewhat relieved our minds. Our friendsmight have escaped; but at the same time it was too evident that hostileIndians were scouring that part of the country, and that we ourselvesmight ere long be attacked, and share the fate of the unhappy persons wesaw before us.

  We now slowly retreated, shouting as we did so to keep the wolves atbay, and turning every few paces to face them; for had they seen us fly,they might have been induced to follow. They were now, however, happilyfor us, too much engaged in their dreadful feast to take further noticeof us.

  Having told Uncle Stephen what we had seen, we turned the heads of theoxen away from the spot, directing our course to the right, where theground appeared to be more even than any we had yet gone over. Weagreed not to let Aunt Hannah and Lily know of the dreadful scene we hadwitnessed; but it
was important to get as far as possible from the spot,and we determined, if the oxen could drag the waggon, to continue on allnight.

  "Do you think it likely that the wolves, when they have finished theirhorrible feast, will track us out?" I said to Uncle Mark.

  "I hope not," he answered. "Were they starving, they might do so; butonly the younger animals, which would have been prevented by theirelders from joining in the feast, may possibly follow us. If they do,we can keep them at a distance, for they are more easily frightened thanthe older brutes."

  The stars, as on the previous night, were very bright, and we were able,by them, to keep a direct course. Our chief desire now was to rejoinour friends, and next to that to find water. We, of course, as we movedalong, kept a strict watch, as before; but the scene I had witnessedmade me feel much more anxious than usual, and every moment I expectedto see a band of Indians start up from behind the rocks which here andthere rose above the plain, or to hear a flight of arrows whistlingthrough the air past our ears--perhaps to feel one sticking in my body.

  Uncle Stephen had advised Aunt Hannah and Lily to lie down in a spaceleft vacant for them in the middle of the waggon, where they would beprotected by the luggage piled up on both sides.

  We had now gone on many hours without water, and our cattle began toshow signs of being very thirsty. All we could do was to wet theirmuzzles with a little of the water we had brought with us; but our livesmight depend upon our pushing on.

  As we generally marched apart--two of us on either side of the waggon--we had no opportunities for conversation, and were left, consequently,to our own melancholy thoughts. Had I been by myself, or with malecompanions only, I should not have cared so much; but my mind wastroubled by the idea of what might be dear Lily's fate, and that of AuntHannah, should we be attacked, or should our cattle break down and we beunable to proceed.

  The oxen went slower and slower, notwithstanding every effort of UncleStephen to make them move at their usual pace. At last they came to astand-still. Mike and Quambo, who at the time were ahead, endeavouredin vain to induce them to move on. Uncle Mark and I ran forward toassist them. As I was about to do so I caught sight of a ruddy spot inthe distance, away somewhat to the left. That must be a fire, Ithought, and I pointed it out to Uncle Mark.

  "It may be the camp-fire of our friends," he observed; "but we must notbe too sure, for it may be that of a band of Indians."

  He asked Uncle Stephen what he thought.

  "The Indians generally take care to have their fires in places wherethey cannot be seen from a distance, so that is much more likely to bewhat you at first supposed," he answered. "At all events, we will tryand find out."

  "If the oxen cannot be got to move, I will go on and ascertain," I said."I can direct my course by the fire, and will approach cautiously.Should I discover that Indians are encamped there, I will hurry back andlet you know. We must then try and make our way in some otherdirection."

  "I am afraid, Roger, that in such a case our hope of escape will be verysmall," said my uncle in a grave tone. "Unless we can find water insome hollow in which it will be possible to conceal ourselves, at thereturn of day, the Indians are sure to see us. Should they cross ourtrack, they are equally certain to come upon us before long. We must,however, hope for the best. Go forward as you propose, and may Heavenprotect you, my boy."

  Without stopping to bid Lily and my aunt good-bye I hurried on, keepingmy gaze on the fire, which, growing brighter as I advanced, enabled mewithout difficulty to direct my course for it. The ground was tolerablyeven, but sloped slightly downwards in the direction I was taking. Thefire, indeed, when I first saw it, appeared to be in a hollow, or at allevents at a lower elevation than that where we were standing. I lookedback once or twice, and quickly lost sight of the waggon. So far I wassatisfied that, should the people who had made the fire be Indians, theywould not discover the waggon until daylight, by which time I hoped weshould be able to conceal ourselves among the hills in theneighbourhood.

  I hurried on as fast as I could venture to move, ignorant of what wasbefore me. It would be useless, I knew, to attempt concealing my trail,but as I did not intend to go nearer the camp-fire than was necessary tomake out who were there, I hoped some time would elapse after I hadretreated before the Indians could discover that any one had been nearthem. Now and then, when crossing a hill, I lost sight of the fire, andhad to direct my course by the stars overhead. Again I saw it beforeme, blazing brightly. I hoped that Uncle Stephen was right in hisconjectures. The fire, however, was further off than I had supposed,and the greater part of an hour was consumed before I got close enoughto see the figures moving about it.

  I now crept on as noiselessly as I could, for I knew that the leastsound would be conveyed to the quick ears of the Redskins. Fortunatelythere were a number of bushes in the neighbourhood, behind which I couldconceal myself.

  As I was going on I heard voices, and stopped breathlessly to listen.They did not sound like those of Indians, and presently I saw a coupleof figures pass in front of the fire. I almost shouted for joy as Idistinguished by their outlines against the bright blaze that theirdress was that of white men. I felt sure that the people I saw beforeme were our friends; still, caution was necessary, for it was possiblethat they were prisoners of the Indians, saved from the caravan latelydestroyed, only to meet with a more cruel death by torture. There mightbe a large party of Indians encamped.

  Presently two other fires came into view, which had been hithertoconcealed by the thick bushes surrounding the hollow in which the campwas formed. I crept on and on, crouching down like a panther about tospring on its prey. The voices became more and more distinct, and atlast I found myself on the top of the bank, with only a few bushesintervening between me and those encamped below.

  On pushing aside the branches my eyes were greeted by the pleasant sightof waggons, cattle, and a number of people; some cooking before thefires, others preparing their resting-places for the night. Not faroff, at the lower part of the hollow, for it could scarcely be called avalley, was a pool reflecting the stars overhead.

  Feeling sure that I saw my friends before me, I now rushed down theslope towards them. The first person I met was Reuben Claxton.

  "Why, Roger! where have you come from?" he exclaimed. "We were veryanxious about you, and my father had determined, should you not appearsoon, to return with a party to your relief."

  I quickly told him what had occurred, several others gathering round tohear my account. They were greatly alarmed at the description I gave ofthe remains of the emigrant-train we had discovered. I pointed out thattheir own camp was formed with less care than usual; of which fact theywere convinced, but excused themselves on the plea that they had arrivedvery tired just at dark, having had a rough country to traverse, andthat their cattle had suffered from want of water since the last placethey had stopped at. The way I had approached showed them how easilythey might have been surprised by a party of hostile Indians.

  I told them that I must be off again at once, as I was anxious to getback to our waggon, in order that we might join them without delay.Reuben offered to accompany me, and I was very glad to have him. Wetherefore set off immediately.

  It was necessary to be careful, however, to keep a direct course; andthis could only be done by watching a star which I had marked,overhanging the spot where I had left the waggon. By any deviation tothe right hand or to the left we might easily pass it.

  Reuben told me that many of the emigrants had become very anxious, andthe account I had brought would make them still more so. Could theyventure back alone, he thought they would be willing to return to thesettlement.

  "For my own part, I like the wild sort of life we are leading; but Ishould be happier if I knew that Lily and my aunt were in safety,whereas they are exposed to as much danger as we are," I observed.

  More than once I thought that we had gone wrong, as it was impossible todistinguish objects clearly in the gloom of nig
ht. I fancied that wemust have performed the distance; still I could nowhere see the waggon.The dreadful thought occurred to me that some prowling Indians mighthave pounced upon it, and carried it off.

  "I hope not," said Reuben, when I told him my fears. "We may not havegone far enough yet; or we are perhaps too much on one side or theother."

  We went on a little further, trying to pierce the gloom. Then westopped to listen, but could hear no sounds.

  "We must have gone wrong," I said; "for I am certain that we shouldotherwise have got up to the waggon by this time."

  Still Reuben thought that I might be mistaken.

  "Let us shout, and perhaps they will hear us;" and before I could stophim, he cried out at the top of his voice--"Hallo! Mr Tregellis,whereabouts are you?"

  Thinking it too probable that Indians were not far off, I dreaded lestthe shout might be heard by them, and I advised Reuben not to cry outagain.

  I was still fearing that we had missed the waggon, when a voice reachedour ears. It was that of Mike.

  "Is that you, Masther Roger? If you are yourself, come on here; but ifnot, I'll throuble you to stop where you are, or I'll be afther shootingyou through the head."

  "All right, Mike!" I exclaimed, as we made our way in the directionfrom whence the voice came.

  He had grown anxious at my long delay, and had got leave from my unclesto try and find out what had become of me.

  We soon got back to the waggon; and by giving the patient oxen theremainder of our water, they having in the meantime cropped some grass,we were able to move forward. The road, in the dark, was difficult; butwe managed to reach the camp without any accident, and were heartilywelcomed by our friends.

  Those who wished to return had, we found, summoned a meeting, and it wassettled that the matter should be decided by the majority of votes. Myuncles turned the scale in favour of going on. They pointed out that itwould be as dangerous to retreat as to advance.

  Mr Sparks urged that it would be madness to give up the enterprise.Water, he assured us, would be found at the end of every day's march, oreven oftener; and though Indians might be met, with our rifles we couldwithout difficulty keep them at bay, as none of them were likely topossess firearms--their only weapons being bows and arrows and spears.His remarks prevailed; and it was agreed that after a day's rest, whichthe cattle greatly required, we should recommence our march.

  Once more we were making our toilsome way across the desert. For twodays we had moved on without interruption, keeping scouts out as usualon either side to give notice should any Indians approach. Reuben andI, and other young men, performed that necessary duty for several hourseach day.

  Early in the morning of the second day we caught sight in the distanceof a couple of horsemen with long spears in their hands. They gallopedtowards us, apparently to ascertain who we were; then, wheeling round,they quickly disappeared, and though we were on the watch we saw no moreof them. When we halted at noon, we of course reported thecircumstance. As it showed that Redskins were in the neighbourhood,several more men were told off to act as scouts, with orders to retreattowards the train the moment they might see any Indians, whether few ormany.

  Reuben, Mike, and I were advancing as I have described, somewhat aheadof the train, when towards evening we entered a valley, the hillssloping away on either side of it. At the further end we expected tofind a stream, at the side of which we could encamp. I was leading,Mike was next to me, and Reuben was nearest the train. The ground I wastraversing was somewhat rough, and I was leaping from one rock toanother, when I fell and sprained my ankle. Just as I got up--beingthen on higher ground than my companions, and having a more extensiveview--I saw a large band of horsemen approaching at full gallop. I knewat once that they were Redskins.

  "Indians! Indians!" I shrieked out to Mike. "Tell Reuben to run andlet our friends know that the enemy are upon us."

  Mike shouted at the top of his voice, as I had desired him. I sawReuben set off, and Mike following him. Presently Mike stopped andlooked back to see what had become of me. I endeavoured to run, butfound it impossible to move. Before I had made a second step, I sank tothe ground.

  "Sure, you are not coming, Masther Roger," cried Mike, on seeing mefall.

  The pain I endured prevented me speaking.

  Mike rushed back towards me, crying out all the time, "Come along! comealong!" But move I could not.

  He was still at some distance from me, when, looking round, I saw thatthe Indians were rapidly approaching. I made signs to him to savehimself, but he either did not, or would not, understand them.

  "Go back! go back!" I at length cried out.

  "Arrah! and sure, not till I've got you on me back," he answered, stillmaking his way towards me.

  I felt very certain that, with me to carry, he could not possibly reachthe train before the Indians would be up with us, and he could scarcelyhave failed to know this.

  "Cling to me back, Masther Roger, and I'll show the Ridskins how abog-trotter can get over the ground;" and stooping down, he seized myarms and threw me on his back. "Now, here we go!" he cried out, andbegan leaping over the ground with as much agility as if he had had noburden to carry.

  But his efforts, as I feared they would be, were in vain. A wild whoopsounded in my ears, and looking back I saw upwards of a dozen Indians intheir war-paint--their feather-plumes and cloaks flying in the air, asthey galloped forward on their mustangs over the rocky ground, sendingthe stones and dust flying away from their heels. I expected everyinstant to feel one of those ugly-looking spears plunged into my back.One of the painted warriors was just about to finish my career, when Iheard a loud voice shouting in an authoritative tone; and instead oftransfixing me, he let the point of his spear fall, then, seizing me bythe collar, dragged me up on his steed, and laid me across his saddle infront of him. Another treated Mike in the same manner, in spite of hisstruggles to free himself. I made no resistance, knowing it was uselessto do so.

  The two Indians who had captured us wheeled their horses round andgalloped away, and we met crowds of other warriors galloping at fullspeed in the track of the first. I got one glance round, which enabledme to see that the enemy were close up to the waggons, while the puffsof smoke and the report of rifles showed that my friends were determinedto defend themselves. Several of the Indian saddles were emptied in aminute, but still a whole host of the savages appeared charging down onthe train. Whether or not Reuben had succeeded in getting under shelterof the waggons, I could not tell. I saw no more, for my captor gallopedoff with me round the hill, and they were concealed from view, though Icould still hear the sound of the shots and the shrieks and shouts ofthe combatants. I had no hope of escaping with life, and believed thatI was reserved to suffer the fearful tortures to which the Redskins sofrequently subject their prisoners.

  After going some distance the Indian stopped, and lifting me up from thepainful position in which I lay, placed me behind him; fastening me by aleather strap round his body, and so securing my arms that I could notmove. He had previously deprived me of my rifle, which I had hithertoheld firmly in my grasp, hoping against hope that I might have anopportunity of using it. I saw Mike not far off, he having been treatedmuch in the same manner, though not without the assistance of anotherIndian, who had accompanied the one on whose horse he was placed.

  Having secured us, the Indians again galloped forward. After going somedistance, I saw that we were approaching a more wooded region than theone we had left, with a stream or river running through it; and Ithought that I could distinguish cliffs, below which the river, in partof its course, made its way.

  I could manage to turn my head, and as I did so I fancied that Idiscerned another horseman coming up behind us, with a prisoner, whom Inaturally feared was Reuben. Further off were numerous Indians, butwhether they formed the whole of the body which had attacked the trainor not I could not make out. If they were, I had great hopes that theRedskins had been defeated, althou
gh they would probably wreak theirvengeance on us, their unfortunate captives. Still, in either case Ifelt sure that we should be put to death--though I rejoiced in thebelief that Lily and my other relatives and friends had escaped; for asnone of the Indians I had seen had firearms, I had good reason forhoping that our party had gained the victory. Should Mr Sparks proveequal to his professions, by leading them well and taking the necessaryprecautions against surprise, they might still fight their way throughthe hostile territory.

  My mind being relieved of anxiety about my friends, I was able to thinkmore about myself and Reuben and Mike. Had we any chance of escaping?I was determined, at all events, to make the attempt; and I was verysure that they would do likewise. I resolved, could I get near enoughto Mike, to tell him of my intention, and to advise him to keep up hisspirits; and before long I had an opportunity.

  "Bedad! it's what I have been afther thinking about," he answered."I'll let young Reuben know me thoughts, too. We've outwitted theRidskins once before, and, sure, we'll thry to play them another trick."

  He spoke in a tone of voice which showed that no coward fears hadovercome him.

  We galloped on until we reached the wood, where our captors dismounted,aided by the third Indian I have mentioned. I had scarcely thoughtabout my foot during my ride, but when I was cast loose and attempted tomove by myself, I found that I could not stand, and presently sank tothe ground. Mike, on finding himself at liberty, hurried to myassistance, and, taking off my shoe, examined my ankle.

  "It's a bad sprain," he observed; "but maybe these rid gintlemen willjust let me get some cowld wather. I'll bathe it and bind it up, and inthe course of a few days, or in less time than that, it will be all torights again."

  I could only smile, not believing that I should be allowed many days toget well.

  He then carried me under the shade of a tree, against the trunk of whichI reclined. The pain rapidly went off, and I was better able toconsider our position, and the possibility of escape.