CHAPTER XIII. DEFENDING THE CAVE

That which seemed to me at the moment most important was whether Giles’s shot had been a fatal one, or, if he had wounded that bloodhound, who, most like by accident, had come upon our trail, and the question shaped itself into words.

“There is yet life enough remaining in him, judging by the way in which he turned, to admit of his giving the alarm, unless his companions are too far away,” Giles replied, and continued in a tone of grief: “Why did I not shoot with surer aim? Why have we allowed the murdering villain to escape?”

“It is of little moment, Giles March, whether he lived or died,” I said, soothingly, and the lad looked at me in surprise, whereupon I hastened to add: “When he failed to return to his fellows, they would most likely set out in search of him, and, coming upon the trail, not only follow it to where his body might be lying, but to our cave.”

“What shall we do?” Giles asked, helplessly, and I was unable to answer the question promptly.

“It seems to me as necessary Master Bartlett and his party be warned, as that we return to guard the cave,” I said, half to myself. “Help me to decide whether we shall go back simply to give the alarm, then striving to reach those who are waiting for us by the river, or if we ought to remain at the cave.”

“To my mind we have little need for raising such a question,” Giles said, promptly. “When we fail to return, our comrades must understand that something of serious import has detained us, and will be on the alert for danger from this direction. There are none in the cave to defend it, save the women, for those crippled lads would make a poor showing in trying to handle a weapon. We must go back, and without delay.”

Even while recognizing the truth of Giles’s words, I was in doubt as to which party of our friends stood more in need of aid just then. That the women could stand off the savages for a time seemed certain, and I knew only too well that the little company of Minute Boys, being all unsuspicious of danger from the rear, might easily be overwhelmed.

Yet when Giles wheeled about, marching resolutely up the mountain, I followed, and neither of us spoke until Esther Hinchman, hearing our footsteps, crept cautiously out to see who might be approaching.

The quick-eyed girl could readily see by our faces that something in the nature of a disaster had prevented the continuance of the journey, and coming yet farther from the cave, as if fearing lest those within should be unduly alarmed, she asked, in a whisper:

“What is it?”

I could not bring myself to tell her that even at the moment, when she fancied herself in comparative security, John Butler’s wolves were on the trail, and hesitated and stammered until Giles March cut me short by saying:

“We met one of the savages on the trail not far from here, but succeeded only in wounding him. He was following us, and there is good reason for believing more than he may come very shortly.”

I had looked to see Esther Hinchman overcome with alarm and grief, but to my surprise she bore herself as bravely as her brother could have done, asking sharply:

“How long a time, think you, before they can get here?”

“As to that, we have ample opportunity for making such further preparations for defence as may be needed,” I replied, able now to speak with her concerning the danger, since she seemed prepared to meet it. “Surely a full half-hour must pass before that cur can gather force enough to come upon us,—he hasn’t the courage to follow the trail farther alone, even though he may have the ability.”

“What ought we to do in the way of making ready for them?” she asked, and I said, as I believed, that there was nothing further which could be done with profit, save it might be to roll the boulders a trifle closer together, and even while speaking I questioned if that would be advisable, since in the fight, which was almost certain to come sooner or later, it might be necessary for one or more of us to leave the cave secretly and quickly.

“The others must be told,” she said, turning to run on in advance.

Giles and I lingered that we might not witness the first outburst of grief in which we believed the women would indulge.

When, five minutes later, we entered the cave, it could plainly be seen by the expression on the faces of Mistress Morley, Mistress Stockbridge and the others that the worst was known; but yet I could see no evidences of terror. The poor people had passed through so much that was horrible during the last eight and forty hours that it was no longer possible to cause them further alarm.

Elias Shendle beckoned feebly to me with his uninjured hand, and, dropping on my knee beside him, I whispered:

“What is it, lad?”

“Did you see more than one of the savages?” he asked.

“No, no, Elias; Esther has told you all the truth. There was but one, and he followed our trail, therefore do we know that others will come shortly.”

“Unless it should be that Master Bartlett and the lads, seeing them, and having suspicions of their intent, do something toward stopping the curs,” he whispered, and then it was that for the first time I saw somewhat of hope in the situation. There yet seemed a possibility that the attack which I had reckoned on so confidently might not be made.

“There are two of us wounded lads here who should be of some service in defending the place,” Oscar Stephenson said. “I can make my way to the entrance unaided, and, if Samuel Rogers and Elias Shendle were carried forward where it would be possible to see out, why might not they be able to discharge a musket with reasonably good effect?”

“There are as many of us here uninjured as can fight with advantage,” I replied, quickly. “The entrance is so narrow that more than two would choke it, and, with the women to load the guns, I see no reason why Giles and I should not be able to do as much execution as could half a dozen who would be forced to fall back after firing, that others might take their places.”

There is no good reason why I should set down all that was said during the first few moments after coming back with such woful tidings. When it was decided that Giles and I alone would face the enemy, and we took our places with all the muskets in the cave loaded and lying ready at hand, everything possible had been done.

It only remained for the savages to open the battle, and I counted that, because of the screen of bushes directly in front of the aperture, the foremost of those who came on the trail would show themselves fair targets for us before understanding they were at the end of the journey, therefore, as I said to Giles, were we likely to cut down a couple before they could fire a shot.

“It is not well that we talk one with the other, save in whispers,” Giles said, after we had taken our stations behind the boulders which partially blocked the entrance, “else by so doing we give the savages token as to where we are.”

On the instant a profound silence reigned, and I could understand that the wounded lads and anxious women must be suffering mentally, for the waiting was like unto that which a soldier experiences while standing in line of battle listening for the word to begin his work.

The suspense was terrible as we watched eagerly for the first movement of the bushes which should tell of the approach of the enemy, straining our ears for the lightest unusual sound, and when it seemed as if a full hour had passed since we heard even a whisper from our companions, there came a rustling at the farther end of the cave, which, because of the stillness, startled me.

Looking around, I saw that Mistress Morley and Mistress Stockbridge were dragging the wounded lads yet farther into the cavern, where they might the better be sheltered from a stray bullet, and heard Elias Shendle say, hoarsely:

“It is the children who should be thus protected; not we lads, who are of no good either to ourselves or our friends.”

I was yet watching the movements of these brave-hearted women, when Giles discharged his weapon, and, turning suddenly, I saw lying almost directly in front of the opening the half-naked body of a dead Indian.

The savages had come, but in what number it was impossible even to guess, and now was the time at hand when the lives of all within our place of refuge depended upon the watchfulness of Giles and myself.

“How many did you see?” I asked, and he replied as he took up a loaded musket, pushing his empty one back that it might be recharged by Mistress Morley:

“Only one, and it is not certain but that he may be the same at whom I fired before.”

Then it was that I searched with my eyes every inch of that dusky form which could be seen lying so hideously still in front of us, hoping to find there the trace of a second bullet, but seeing none. Then came the disheartening realization that, when the day was done and darkness covered everything as with a veil, we could not prevent the red wolves from creeping up until, sheltered by the same boulders behind which we lay, they might shoot into the cave.

I should have grown even more timorous than I was had I not shaken off such forebodings resolutely, and given myself wholly up to the task of watching for a target.

So profound was the silence that when Mistress Morley, having loaded the weapon Giles had discharged, pushed it forward toward us, I started like one in fear, and was near to trembling so violently that she might have seen it.

Not a sound from the outside broke the silence; nothing betokened the probable fact that the bloodthirsty enemy, perhaps in large numbers, were crouching within a few paces, hoping to kill, and a stranger who could have looked in on us then would have questioned why we two lads were lying there behind the rocks watching so intently through the narrow aperture.

I believe ten minutes had passed in this distressing suspense, when Giles whispered, cautiously:

“It is ten times worse than a battle, lying here where nothing can be seen, until one’s eyes become so tired that he fancies this bush or that is suddenly turned into one of John Butler’s demons.”

I would have made reply in much the same strain, but at that moment the leaves to the right of our trail were moved aside in a direction contrary to the breeze which was blowing, and then I saw two fierce, eager eyes peering out from amid the leafy screen of green.

Taking steady aim, my hands as firm now as though they had never trembled with suspense, I pulled the trigger. Following the report came a sound like unto the falling of a heavy body, and, regardless of the necessity that we remain silent, I said, exultantly, to Giles March:

“That is the second viper we have wiped out!”

It was like a tonic to me, being able to do some execution, and I found it difficult to restrain myself from rushing forth boldly, so eager was I to put an end to this skulking method of warfare.

Again Mistress Morley performed her work, and I took up a loaded musket.

“We are equal to twenty of them at this rate, for, with three women to load the weapons, surely we will be able to fire as fast as they can give us the opportunity,” I whispered to Giles, and he nodded without speaking, much as to say that I was forgetting prudence because of the blood-fever which had come upon me.

Another long time of anxious waiting, and then I felt a hand upon my shoulder, when, turning quickly, I saw Esther Hinchman crouching close behind me.

“What is it?” I asked, nervously, and she replied:

“Nothing, save that I wanted you and Giles March to know we were ready to do whatsoever lay in our power, and await the time when we may be needed.”

“That I knew before, dear girl,” I said, feeling wondrously heartened because of the words, and a sensation near akin to jealousy came into my heart when I saw her go over to Giles March to give him cheer also, as if I alone had the right to hear such words from her.

That my comrade’s courage was strengthened by Esther’s coming, if, indeed, it had needed strengthening, I knew when he whispered to me:

“Go back and speak with the lads. They must be in sore need of cheering, and I can do all that is called for here.”

There was really no good reason why two of us should remain on guard while the Indians remained so well concealed, not daring to rush the place, and I acted on his suggestion, kneeling beside Elias Shendle a moment later, to say:

“Everything is well with us, lad, and I believe we may be able to hold off such force as is concealed near by, until Master Bartlett and those with him shall come to learn why we failed to join them.”

“Can you get any idea how many there are in front of the cave?” Elias asked, and I told him what had been done—that we had succeeded thus far in killing the only two who had, as I believed, gotten a view of the entrance to our retreat.

“I wish I might take a hand in the matter, instead of being thus worse than useless,” he said, and pressing his hand, I replied, warmly:

“You are far from being useless yet awhile, Elias Shendle. Do your best at getting on your feet once more, and thus will you hearten us all. I am yet looking to see the time when our company of Minute Boys, or as many as are alive, will be able to do their full share toward driving from the valley those who are even now ravaging it.”

“All that might have been done already, Jonathan Ogden, if I, and such as I, had not been a hindrance. If the savages had killed us outright then you would not be wasting your time here defending us.”

“Nay, lad, you are wrong in that, since whether you were alive or dead should we be held here because of the women and children. I count that we Minute Boys are doing full service when we save the lives of as many as are here in this cave, and that I warrant you we shall do, however hotly those who are lurking outside may press us, for we hold the advantage to such an extent that an hundred of them could never gain an entrance while two of us are able to discharge the muskets which the women can load.”

Then I went in turn to each of the other lads, whispering such words of comfort as came most readily to my tongue, and returned to my place by Giles March’s side, feeling as never before the importance of holding myself well together in order to cheer those who were depending upon us.

Later Esther Hinchman brought us dried meat, and water in a vessel of birch bark, which she had deftly fastened together with thorns, and we made what served us well for a meal, watching keenly as we ate.

Then, in turn, Giles went back to speak with our wounded comrades, leaving me alone on guard, and in this wise did time pass until evening came, without our having again seen anything at which we should shoot.

Just at twilight, when we might distinguish the bushes in front of us and yet not be able to see clearly, that happened which robbed me of my sense of security.

The children had laid down to sleep, their mothers sitting beside them to check any cry of alarm which might come if one of the muskets was discharged suddenly, when I heard distinctly the dropping of a pebble, evidently from that portion of the cave where Master Bartlett had formed the narrow chimney by thrusting down through the earth a sharpened sapling.

Giles’s head came up on the instant, and I knew he had heard the same. It seemed like a matter of small moment to thus arouse two who were defending the lives of so many; but we had learned to distrust the lightest unusual sound, knowing that it betokened some new danger, although for the instant it was impossible to say what.

Then, suddenly, the reason for the dropping of that pebble came to me. Touching Giles ever so lightly, that he should understand I had left him, I stole softly back to the fireplace, and, as I looked up through the aperture, a few tiny particles of earth struck my face.

Then was it all plain.

The Indians, despairing of being able to dislodge us by direct assault, except at too great a cost, had been prowling about searching for some other entrance to our place of refuge, and their keen sense of smell had detected the odor of smoke near by that small hole.

Hurriedly I asked myself what it might be possible for them to do, and began to realize that, unless the earth contained as many rocks as would serve to form a roof sufficiently strong to uphold the soil, then might they without danger to themselves so loosen the whole as to bury us completely.

If Master Bartlett had been able to force a sapling through the earth without meeting any obstruction, then was it likely that the same might be done in other places, and half a dozen of such holes would be sufficient to bring down the mass upon us, when the weight of a dozen or more savages was put upon it.

In a twinkling I could see that we might all be killed without a shot having been fired, and the danger was one against which we could not guard and yet hold ourselves covered.

Going back hurriedly to Giles March, I would have told him that which I had learned, but he checked me by saying:

“I can understand it all, lad, and there is no reason for words. They are above the fireplace.”

“Yes; I felt the soft earth as it fell.”

“And they may work there, for all I can see, until the task is finished,” he said, and to this I made no reply, for verily none was needed.

Then, while one might have counted twenty, we two remained silent, after which he whispered, drawing closer to me lest our companions might hear:

“Oscar Stephenson is less sorely wounded than either of the others. He can, by resting his musket against one of the boulders, be depended on to take my place here.”

“Where would you go, Giles March?” I asked, yet at the same time knowing full well what was in his mind.

“Outside. In less than half an hour it will be possible to move about among the trees, because of the darkness, as well as can the Indians, and with no more danger than they will be running.”

“But you are like to come upon them unawares.”

“Ay, but so are they like to come upon me, and he who is least surprised will get the best of the battle.”

“But what if you should be worsted?”

“You who remain here would be in no greater danger, and there is a chance that I may be able to put an end to that work above the fireplace.”

“You shall go, Giles March,” I said after a moment’s thought. “I believe you are warranted in doing so, for before morning, unless they are turned from the effort, will we be buried alive.”

“Then you are to stay here on guard with Oscar,” he whispered, groping about for his powder-horn, and I replied in a tone of one who is not disposed to argue the matter:

“You and I go together, Giles March. Mistress Morley can do as good work here as either of us, and she, with Oscar, will be able to defend the entrance.”

He would have remonstrated, despite my manner of speaking, but that I cut him short by saying:

“It is no longer a question of what we would do, Giles March, but of what we must. With you to make your way up the mountainside at the left, and me on the right, we stand a chance of being able one to aid the other in case of a hand-to-hand fight, and I am of the opinion that two are needed, therefore it only remains to tell the others what we propose to do.”

“Then do you go back and prepare them for the change, while I remain here, and because it is necessary we go at once, try to find my powder-horn. It should have been near here; but likely Mistress Morley used it when she loaded the muskets.”

I did as he bade me, summoning the women to where our wounded lads could hear what was said, for I was not minded to go over the plan more than once, because of my desire to get at work as soon as possible.

As I expected, much opposition was made, particularly by Mistress Stockbridge, who claimed that if we two lads, the only able-bodied male members of the party, went out, then would their doom be certain; but I cut her short by saying:

“If we remain then is there no hope that a single one of us will be alive when the sun rises again. It wasn’t to discuss the matter that I came back here, but to tell you what was to be done. Mistress Morley and Oscar Stephenson will take our places at the entrance. Mistress Stockbridge will, if it shall be necessary, reload their weapons, and thus the defence may be continued the same as if Giles March and I remained.”

“I wish I might be with you,” Elias Shendle said, faintly, and although we were going into direst danger, I pitied the dear lad because he was forced to remain inactive at a time when he knew, as did all the others, that every hand which could be raised in our behalf was needed.

It was Esther Hinchman who brought the powder-horns when I asked for them, and whispered softly as she put them in my hands:

“May God go with you, and send you back unharmed!”

I think it was some such words as those which I needed just at that time, for until she spoke there was a chill at my heart because of believing the time to be so near at hand when we must lead these defenceless ones out to meet the bloodthirsty wolves, unless we were willing they should die from suffocation beneath the roof of their refuge, and I said to her that which at the moment I firmly believed.

“He must send us back that we may be able to take you out from this place of danger.”

She and I helped Oscar Stephenson out to the entrance, Mistress Morley following, and as we came up Giles March arose to his feet.

I gave him the powder-horn, swung mine over my shoulder, made certain of having a handful of bullets in my pocket, and we two stood listening intently to make certain that the time was ripe for us to begin the hazardous venture.

Night had fully come. In the forest, as we were, it was impossible to see half a dozen paces in advance, and because of the trees were there no shadows to be cast, therefore it was necessary only to guard against making a noise. It can well be imagined that we moved stealthily while coming out from between the boulders, he going to one side and I to the other, the friendly night swallowing us up almost immediately.

So far as the whereabouts of the Indians were concerned, we knew only that one or more of them must be directly above the cave over the fireplace, and it was reasonable to suppose there were others here or there guarding against a surprise. To avoid those who were acting as sentinels was the most difficult portion of our task.

I made a wide détour, counting to ascend the mountain fifteen or twenty yards above where I believed the enemy were, and then coming down upon them from that direction in which they would least expect any interference, knowing full well that in order to make even such a journey an hour or more would be required, because my advance was necessarily so slow that I hardly took a single pace in a full minute.

It was as if the forest was untenanted save by the beasts and birds whom God had placed there; I heard no sound, saw nothing betokening danger, until I was come forty paces or more from the starting-point, and then, so suddenly that I was literally stupefied by bewilderment, did two sinewy hands clutch my throat, bending me backward and yet further backward as if to crush my bones.

Cry out I could not, because of that steel-like grasp upon my throat, and even though I had been able to call for help I would not, since by so doing it would have brought Giles March straight to his death; for I knew all too well that he would never pass unheeded an appeal from me, however great the danger which menaced him.