CHAPTER XV
IN WHICH THE MYSTERY IS VERY NEARLY EXPLAINED
Just at this critical instant, when almost certain death threatenedBarnabas, a fortunate thing happened. The bow of the Tory's canoe strucka half-submerged rock, and the sudden jar spoiled his aim, so that thebullet passed a foot above his intended victim.
In the twinkling of an eye the long craft swung around, lodged fore andaft across a narrow passage of the falls, and turned bottom up. Out wentGlass, head-first into the foaming waves on the lower side.
There was no time for his pursuers to sheer off, and scarcely an instantlater the second canoe crashed into the obstruction and swung broadsideagainst it, though luckily without capsizing. But the shock pitchedBarnabas out of the bow, and with a vain attempt to grab the canoe infront he glided off the slippery bottom, and was borne down the stretchof boiling rapids. The lads caught a brief glimpse of him as he bumpedinto Glass, who had lodged on a spur of rock twenty feet away. Then bothwere washed off by the furious current, locked together in a desperatestruggle, and the gloom hid them from view.
"Barnabas will be drowned!" cried Nathan. "And we can't do anything tosave him! We're stuck tight!"
"We've got to get loose!" exclaimed Godfrey, and with his paddle hestruck the forward boat a terrific blow. To his delight it grated freeat the stern end and whirled around, and that quickly the two canoeswere bounding side by side amid the perilous falls, swinging this wayand that, leaping high over crested waves, and rebounding from the cruelrap of hidden ledges.
Any attempt at steering was out of the question in so mad a current, butthe lads hardly thought of the danger. Before they could realize it,their canoe had dashed safely down the roaring, raging slope, and wascleaving the choppy little waves that marked the even flow of the riverbeyond the rapids.
With anxious hearts, and with a fear that they dared not put into words,Nathan and Godfrey paddled swiftly along on the current, eagerlywatching ahead and out toward mid-channel, and over to the near-bywooded shore. The moon was under clouds again, and the surface of theriver was misty. Frequently they shouted the name of the missing man,but only the sullen voice of the rapids answered.
When they had gone nearly a mile, some lingering hope persuaded them toturn back. So they pushed up along the shore from eddy to eddy, scanningevery patch of sand and gravel, every clump of bushes, and constantlycalling Barnabas by name. Hope was utterly dead when they drew near thefalls, and now Nathan grounded the canoe in a little cove. Tears wererolling down his cheeks, and he was not ashamed of them. "We've got toface the worst," he said, hoarsely. "Barnabas is drowned. He and Glassperished together."
"Yes, there's no doubt of it," assented Godfrey. "I'm awfully sorry foryou."
"If we could only find the body," said Nathan.
"But we can't," Godfrey replied. "The water seems to be deep aroundhere, and they both must have gone to the bottom. They may not come tothe top for a day or two."
Nathan groaned. "This is terrible," he exclaimed. "I can hardly believeit. To think that Barnabas is dead--that we will never see him again!You don't know how brave and noble he was--"
"Yes, I learned that much during the last few days," interruptedGodfrey. "Believe me, Nathan, I am as sorry as you are. To know such aman as Barnabas Otter makes me feel sometimes that your cause willtriumph."
Nathan silently clasped the other's hand and for some minutes the twolads sat without speaking, gazing over the misty waters and listeningto the sad music of the falls. Then both heard a distant and muffledclatter of hoofs.
"Horsemen!" exclaimed Nathan, "and they are coming up the river road. Imust see them."
"But there may be danger," remonstrated Godfrey.
"No, not in this neighborhood. It is too close to the fort and toHarris's Ferry. Come on, Godfrey!"
They sprang out of the canoe and clambered up the wooded bank, reachingthe road just as two wagons came along, escorted by six mounted men.Nathan halted the party, and after briefly explaining that he and hiscompanion were fugitives from Wyoming, he told what had happened thatnight at Fort Hunter. The victims of the tragedy were known by name tothe men, and they expressed genuine sorrow for the death of Barnabas, aswell as heartfelt relief at the termination of Simon Glass's infamouscareer.
"We're bound for Shamokin fort with supplies sent by thecommissary-general of Pennsylvania," stated the leader of the party. "Isuppose you lads will go along back with us to Hunter's? Just hop intothe wagons yonder."
Before either could reply one of the men in the rear dismounted and cameforward. With an exclamation of surprise he clapped Nathan on theshoulder.
"Corporal Dubbs!" cried the lad. "How did you get here?"
"Why, you know I was on the sick-list the morning the Wyoming troopsleft camp," the corporal explained, "and when I got a little better thegeneral sent me to the Board of War with dispatches. Then I learned thatmy brother was lying up at McKee's fort with a bullet wound he got atWyoming, and I'm on my way there now to see him."
"And was there any news of my father when you left camp?" Nathan askedimpatiently.
"That's what I want to tell you," replied the corporal, drawing the ladaside. "Your father is lying at the house of a loyal farmer namedWelfare. His place is near the head of the Shrewsbury River, and not farfrom Monmouth. Welfare himself brought word to the camp the day I left.He said the captain was badly hurt, and wouldn't be able to be moved fora month."
Nathan was speechless with joy for a moment. "Then my father is reallyalive?" he cried. "I was sure of it. And do you think he is still at thefarmhouse?"
"I'm pretty certain he is," replied the corporal. "I don't know how hecame there, or anything about his injuries, but you may count on it, heis in good hands."
"I'm going straight to him," declared Nathan. "I'll travel day andnight."
Corporal Dubbs nodded approvingly. "That's the best thing you can do,"he said. "The sight of you, lad, will be better than medicine for thecaptain. There's a stage from Harris's Ferry to Philadelphia in themorning. You can catch it if you hurry. Don't forget the place, and besure you ask for Jonas Welfare. And be careful when you get in theneighborhood of the Shrewsbury, for the enemy are making raids over thatway from New York."
"I'll remember," assented Nathan. "I must go now. We have a canoe below,and I mean to catch that stage. Will you tell Sergeant Murdock at FortHunter that Barnabas is dead and ask him to find the body and--and--buryit--"
The lad's voice broke, and for a moment he could not speak.
"In Barnabas's left boot," he added, "is a packet of papers that he wastaking care of for me. They belong to my father. Will you ask thesergeant to keep them until they are sent for?"
Corporal Dubbs readily promised, and with a hearty clasp of the lad'shand he mounted and rode after the now moving wagon-train.
Nathan and Godfrey hurried back to the canoe and were soon paddlingswiftly down the river. The roar of the falls faded behind them, andwhen a curve hid the fatal spot from view, Nathan turned withtear-dimmed eyes for a last look.
"You forgot about Noah Waxpenny," said Godfrey, when the lads hadpaddled some distance in silence.
"So I did!" exclaimed Nathan. "I hope Sergeant Murdock won't catch him,and if he does I don't believe he will dare to hang him. As for thatmystery--why, I'll get my father to explain it."
"Then you are going straight to see him?"
"Straight," declared Nathan. "You heard what Corporal Dubbs told me. I'mgoing to travel as fast as I can. And what will you do, Godfrey, I don'twant to part--"
"Nor do I," Godfrey said hastily. "At least not yet. If I thought Icould safely accompany you--"
"You can," interrupted Nathan. "I'm sure of that. And I want my fatherto meet you."
Godfrey smiled sadly. "I'll go with you," he replied, "and then I'llwatch for a chance to take boat from the Shrewsbury to New York. Iintend to report to Major Langdon, come what may."
"I suppose that's the best thing you can do," assented Na
than, "but Iwas hoping you might have changed your mind about--"
A look on Godfrey's face made him stop thus abruptly, and for half anhour nothing was said. Then the day began to dawn, and about the time itwas fully light the stockade and houses of Harris's Ferry hove in sightaround a bend of the river.
In the Days of Washington: A Story of the American Revolution Page 15
