CHAPTER XIV. UNEXPECTED AID

I was well-nigh powerless in the grasp of the brawny savage, and, although nearly suffocated, there came into my mind the question as to how long I could stand the strain which he was putting upon me.

Each second were my senses growing more and more dim, and yet I wondered whether I might live one minute or two, for it was a settled fact in my mind that death had then come, and there was no power which could be summoned to my aid to hold it back.

Fortunately for me, although as a matter of course I did not understand it at the time, this human wolf of John Butler’s was as eager to keep the silence as I, for, not knowing how many of us might have come out of the cave, he naturally supposed I had at my back a sufficient force to meet those who were working on the mountainside above, and to his mind an alarm would be the same as turning the tables upon them.

My brain was in a whirl. It seemed as if I could see a dozen hideous faces swaying round and round in a circle before me; sparks of fire danced before my eyes, and in another instant I would have been sent out of this world beyond a peradventure.

All this I realized despite the mental confusion caused by the suffocation, and then suddenly I felt the fingers relax. I staggered back against a tree, and when my adversary sank slowly to his knees, and then downward until he lay prone upon the earth, falling in a heap as does one who has been killed while standing, I believed it was all a trick of the imagination—that while I was passing into the Beyond this picture, and this belief that I was no longer being choked, was but a fancy born of death.

Then while I swayed to and fro, striving to collect my scattered senses, a voice whispered in my ear as a hand was passed over my face:

“Did he wound you, or are you only half-choked?”

“A good bit more than half-choked,” I replied, now beginning to understand that I had to do with a friend, and yet bewildered because one had appeared so unexpectedly. “Is it you, Giles March?”

I bent down as I spoke, and to my utter amazement did I see Esther Hinchman standing before me. She it was who had stricken down the savage when he was so near to making an end of me, and I believe the astonishment caused by such fact was greater than the bewilderment from which I suffered while nearly suffocated.

“How did you come here?” I asked, regardless of the fact that it was dangerous even to whisper in that place, which we knew must be peopled with our enemies.

“I followed you out from the cave, fearing lest something of this sort might happen, and knowing that you and Giles March were to separate.”

“But how was it that Mistress Morley so nearly lost her head as to allow you to come?” I continued, and she replied in a whisper light as the morning breeze:

“There was no reason why I should stay. I could be of no assistance in the cave, and here I was needed, as it so chanced. Is it in your mind, Jonathan Ogden, that we girls of Wyoming Valley should have no part in this desperate struggle, or do you believe we ought to sit with folded arms, while our fathers and our brothers sacrifice their lives in our behalf?”

It was folly for me to remain in that place talking with the girl, when duty demanded that I ascend the mountain at as nearly an equal pace with Giles March as might be possible, and, besides, it was dangerous to indulge in conversation.

Therefore it was that, taking her by the arm lest we be separated in the darkness, I led her by my side, continuing the advance as stealthily as was in my power, and she knew enough of woodcraft to be able to make her way through the undergrowth with no more of noise than might have been caused by a falling leaf.

Never before had I admired one of my race as I have since that moment! It was all so strange to me that this young girl could come out and do the work of a man, and such work! She had saved my life, and while climbing up the mountainside, feeling the way inch by inch lest I set my foot upon a dry twig which would give the alarm, I resolved that all my life long would I endeavor to repay her for that which she had done.

When we came to a spot where the trees grew less dense, I noted that she carried a musket as well as a knife, and had slung over her shoulder a powder-horn. She had made ready for the kind of work which might be found to her hand, and had shown more of wisdom than Giles March and I put together, for neither of us, in making our plans, had fancied that we would come upon such an encounter as had just been mine.

We continued on up the mountainside until having, as I judged, arrived at a point opposite where Master Bartlett had made the aperture in the earth to serve us as chimney, and then struck off at right angles, moving even more slowly than ever because of knowing that when we were come near to our destination we would be in the very thick of those painted fiends who were striving to compass the death of the women and little children in the cave.

Until we were, according to my belief, almost directly over the cavern, no sign of the enemy had been seen, save when the fellow who was now lifeless had seized me; but as we halted, straining our eyes to peer through the gloom which so nearly concealed surrounding objects, it was possible to see four or five dark forms clustered within a circle not more than ten feet in diameter.

By this time I recovered the wits which had been nearly choked out of me, and believed Giles March was gazing upon the same scene presented to Esther Hinchman and me, awaiting some movement on my part. As I figured to myself, he was nearly opposite where we stood, not very far away, and if we opened fire it would be necessary to avoid shooting in his direction.

It was only needed I should touch Esther Hinchman lightly on the arm, for her to understand that which was in my mind as clearly as if I gave the thoughts words, and then we circled around the crouching savages until believing we were come upon them directly from the rear.

Raising my musket, I called her attention by gestures to what I was about to do, and she at the same time took aim.

I counted that Giles March, hearing the report of our weapons, would fire almost immediately, and unless two of us had singled out as a target the same Indian, then we might count on disposing of three at the first volley.

When I fired, Esther Hinchman’s shot followed as if it was but an echo of mine, and before a quick-tongued lad could have counted three came the report of a musket from where I believed Giles March had stationed himself.

We could do no more, for like startled deer two of the savages sprang forward into the thicket, and the crashing of the branches as they ran in terror, regardless of their footsteps, told that they had gone down the mountainside.

Before it was possible for me to leap forward in order to learn what execution had been done, two reports rang out seemingly from beneath our very feet, and then did I know that Oscar Stephenson and Mistress Morley had caught a glimpse of the fugitives sufficient to warrant them in shooting.

An instant later Giles March and I came together as we approached the place where the Indians had been at work, and there saw two of the fellows who would give us no further trouble, while it was also possible that those in the cave had succeeded in inflicting some injury upon the curs who ran so swiftly.

“There could have been but few of them here,” Giles said, after making certain those of our enemies who remained above the cavern were dead, “for unless my eyes deceived me, there were only four in the party.”

“Five,” I said, “for Esther Hinchman killed one who was nigh to making an end of me not forty paces from here.”

“Esther Hinchman!” Giles March cried in astonishment, and as he spoke the girl stood before him.

He looked at her in open-mouthed astonishment, and despite the dangers and horrors of the situation I could find food for mirth in his bewilderment. The lad’s surprise was so great that it seemed absolutely necessary we should gratify his curiosity at once, and in a few words I told him of what had happened, thereby causing him to seize her hands as he cried, heeding not the fact that open speech might imperil our lives:

“You are a comrade worth having, and if Jonathan Ogden and I had known of what stuff you are made, I question whether we would have believed it necessary to stay in the cave instead of rejoining Master Bartlett and the remainder of the party.”

It was neither the time nor the place for us to indulge in compliments or much conversation, and I gave my companions to understand such fact, while I began looking about to see what the Indians had succeeded in doing.

From the evidences of their work it was plain to be seen that they understood full well how we might be disposed of without danger to themselves. Although having nothing but sharpened saplings with which to dig, they had furrowed up the ground in a spot ten to twelve feet square, until fifteen inches or more of the surface had been removed. But for the interruption, it seemed certain they would have succeeded in their purpose within another hour.

“Keep moving roundabout here, Esther Hinchman, while Giles March and I shall have put back this earth so far as we may, for as matters look, it would not require any very heavy weight to throw down the roof of the cave upon those who are inside.”

She went on guard as I had suggested, and then it was that Giles March proposed we cut down a dozen or more saplings, laying them in the excavation to form a sort of network which would further protect the roof of our place of refuge, which was now all too insecure, and after this had been done we pushed back as best we might the soil that had been removed.

We must have spent not less than half an hour in this labor, and all the while did Esther Hinchman flit here and there through the thicket to make certain there were none of the savages creeping up on us, after which we went back to relieve the anxiety of those who could not fail to be wondering why we lingered so long after having discharged our weapons.

Not until giving due warning of our coming did we venture to present ourselves in front of the opening, because in the darkness those who were on guard might well have shot us down for the enemy, and once inside the wounded lads as well as the women insisted on knowing what had taken place, for, as I suspected, they had been filled with keenest fear lest we had come to some harm.

I took it upon myself to tell the tale while Mistress Morley and Oscar Stephenson yet remained on duty at the entrance, and it was my desire to do so in order to give full meed of praise to Esther Hinchman, because, except for her courage and quick wit that night, had I been lying on the mountainside stark and cold as was the fiend whom she had sent out of the world.

“There is no longer a chimney to our refuge,” I said, having come to an end of my story, “and perchance the time is near at hand when we should make a change of quarters, for I question whether John Butler’s braves will not come back in strong force, believing there are enough of us here to afford them pleasing amusement in the way of torture.”

“Shall we go out now?” Mistress Morley asked, as if speaking of making a pleasant jaunt from one dwelling to another, and I replied with a laugh, for my heart was strangely light, having come back to life as it seemed I had:

“I wouldn’t care to undertake a journey through the thicket in the darkness, howsoever great might be the peril which threatened, and even when the sun shall rise to-morrow, I am of the belief that either Giles March or I should seek out the remainder of our company before making any change, lest we lose them in the wilderness.”

Esther Hinchman was not disposed to set herself up as a heroine, and as soon as we were inside the cave, even while I was telling the story of what she had done, the dear girl went from one to the other of the wounded lads, striving to give them more of comfort or relief.

As was but natural, we speculated upon the probable force of the party which had come so near compassing our death, and only then did I remember that Oscar Stephenson and Mistress Morley had fired at the fugitives.

“My bullet went wide of its mark, I feel certain,” Oscar said in reply to my question. “I fired at what was hardly more than a shadow; but Mistress Morley believes hers sped with truer aim, and I am counting, if there be not a dead Indian on the trail a short distance in front of us, one grievously wounded is trying to make his way to the river.”

Giles March would have gone out to learn what he could, but that I insisted on his remaining, for the price he might be called upon to pay would be too great simply for the satisfying of our curiosity.

Well, of what we said that night among ourselves I could write many pages; but they would be entertaining only to those who took part in the conversation, therefore is it enough if I say that we kept vigilant watch throughout all the long hours of darkness.

After a new day was come, rendering it possible to see each other’s faces, I fancied that all the wounded lads were in better condition than they had been four and twenty hours previous, while each of our small party wore a look of hopefulness, in vivid contrast with the despair that had been written on the features when first arriving at that place of refuge.

Giles March and I had long since taken the places of Oscar Stephenson and Mistress Morley at the entrance, and after meat, which had been cooked the day previous, and water was brought to us that we might at least go through the form of eating breakfast, Giles asked of me:

“Which shall it be, Jonathan Ogden, you or me?”

“What mean you?” I inquired in perplexity.

“Was it not in your mind last night that one of us would go to meet the others of our company?”

I made no reply for the moment; that which a short time previous had seemed the proper thing to do now looked much like foolhardiness. During the night I had persuaded myself that the savages could not come upon us in any force within six and thirty hours at the most, because of the fact that they must necessarily be scattered all over the valley in their work of butchery, and I had more desire to linger there on the chance of our friends coming to learn of our fate than of dividing the force.

I gave words to much of that which was in my mind; but Giles March would not be convinced it was the part of wisdom for us thus to delay, and I argued the matter at considerable length until, while we were yet talking incautiously loud, the sound of footsteps could be heard but a short distance in front of us.

On the instant we were on the alert and ready for what had a ring of danger in it, and then came a low call like the note of a catbird, whereupon I ran out quickly, knowing that Master Bartlett was near at hand.

What a relief it was when I saw all of our friends had returned, and the look of anxiety, which had not yet passed from their faces, told how disturbed in mind they had been regarding our safety.

“You have had a tussle with the savages,” Master Bartlett said, hurriedly, as I advanced to meet him.

“How know you that?”

“There is a dead one on the trail a short distance below here.”

“Ay, Mistress Morley was right; she gave him more lead than he could carry, and now may we count that only one of that villainous gang escaped.”

As a matter of course, it was necessary I explain the meaning of my words to those who gathered around me, and, when I was come to an end of the story, Stephen Morley and Master Bartlett appeared to be more concerned in mind than before.

“What is it?” I asked, thinking, mayhap, they had brought news of worse disaster.

“Enough, to my thinking,” Stephen Morley replied, grimly. “You believe one of the red wolves escaped, and we may be certain that he will bring back a crowd to smoke you out of the cave. There are not so many victims to be had in the valley now that they can afford to let slip our party, and the question is, what shall be done, Simon Bartlett?”

While the two men were discussing the matter, I asked Daniel Hinchman to tell me what he and his companions had done since Giles March and I left them.

“Very little,” he replied, “save to learn that Colonel Dennison and some of our friends yet remain in Forty Fort. John Butler is trying to keep the word which he gave when they surrendered; but his red butchers are not inclined to be kept in leading-strings while there is yet blood to be spilled, therefore do those under Dennison fear to go out lest they be massacred, for they are the same as without weapons.”

“And the Indians themselves?” I asked. “Do they remain near the fort?”

“Only so many of them as John Butler’s Tories can hold there by force. So nearly as we could learn they are divided in parties of from twenty-five to fifty, travelling to and fro, destroying such dwellings as first were spared the flames, because of being at too great a distance from the stockade.”

“And how many settlers yet remain alive?” I asked.

“That cannot be said by me or any other. There are many who have fled; women and children have gone on foot across the mountains, or down the river, trusting to rafts or even single logs, and yet scores upon scores of them are fallen under the tomahawk of the savages or the bullets of the Tories, for it is difficult to say whether the red man or the white is inclined to show the least mercy.”

“And you found no others who might be aided?”

“None. All that has been done by us, in addition to gaining the information I have just given you, was a brush with half a dozen whom we met near by Fort Ogden, and to those we gave such a taste of our metal that they will never again follow any other so-called leaders who come from Johnson’s Hall. If we had fifty lads or men, Jonathan Ogden, we would drive those human wolves to take shelter in the stockade at Forty Fort, and hold them there. Now has come the time when we may take revenge, and I pray that my life be spared long enough to shoot down as many as I believe I should claim as my share.”

“But we can’t roam here or there over the valley,” I said, after a pause, and he replied, bitterly:

“True, and the reason is that some of us must be left to protect those who cannot care for themselves. If Stephen Morley and Master Bartlett would decide that the women and children should undertake the journey over the mountains, then might we be left free-handed to do as is our duty.”

“But you forget the wounded, Daniel; they may not be moved yet awhile.”

“You are right, Jonathan, and thus are we hampered,” Daniel replied, and then he went up the trail toward the cave to greet his sister, who stood a short distance away waiting for him impatiently.

When next I joined the two men it was to find them at loggerheads. Stephen Morley was of the belief that we might take the three injured lads, the women and the children, into the stockade at Wyoming, leaving them there to protect themselves, while we went out to harry the smaller bands of savages who were roaming to and fro, even as they had harried our people.

On the other hand, Master Bartlett insisted that we remain in the cave during at least eight and forty hours, claiming that there we could defend ourselves the better, and when I asked why he would delay that length of time, he replied that it would give at least two of the wounded chance to recover sufficiently to move through the forest unaided.

“But then where will you go, Master Bartlett?” I asked.

“By that time we shall know better where we are most needed.”

“How?” Stephen Morley demanded.

“By going out again. I will take Jonathan Ogden and Giles March, agreeing to return here within eight and forty hours, and promise you that while absent we will give good account of ourselves.”

“But why not take all the able-bodied of our force?”

“Because now is it certain the cave will be again attacked, and there must be enough left here to guard it.”

Then once more the two men fell into a discussion as to the best course, and, burning with the desire to do something other than remain on the mountainside in idleness, I cut short the arguments by saying:

“Stephen Morley is bound to stay here because in his wife and children he has more at stake than any other. Do you select the force you desire, Master Bartlett, and let us set off without delay.”

Master Morley went into the cave as if disgruntled; but, as I looked at the matter, it was not a time when we were bound to consider one man’s ideas as against the many, and once more I urged Master Bartlett to do as I had suggested.

The result of the matter was that within half an hour we three, the old man, Giles, and I, were ready to depart, and those of our comrades who were to be left behind had sorrowful faces, as if, because of being forced to remain in a place of comparative safety, they were in some way being deprived of their rights.

We would have gone without speaking even to the wounded, but that, just as Master Bartlett took up his musket to set off, Esther Hinchman came toward me, and I was only too glad to meet her.

“You will remember, Jonathan Ogden, that while there are helpless ones left here on the mountainside your life belongs to them. Daniel has told me how eager you are to be off in the aiding of those who may be suffering. He believes, and so does Master Morley, that your efforts will be vain, because there are none left alive needing assistance, therefore I know full well you will have an encounter with the savages.”

“Ay, that is what we hope for. There is a price which they must pay in blood for what has been done, and until the debt is collected I am hoping no man or lad who once called our valley his home may be willing to remain idle.”

“But you will remember that there is a debt which you owe us who are here.”

“Meaning that I shall lag behind when there is work to be done?” I said with a laugh, and she replied, taking my hand with a caressing gesture which pleased me wondrously:

“Not so, Jonathan Ogden, for even though you promised it, I would not believe you could keep such word. I am not asking you to stay here, but that you remember those whom you leave behind.”