CHAPTER XII. SAVING ELIAS

Because Master Bartlett had said that sleep was the best medicine our wounded comrade could have, Giles March and I remained at a distance, but yet where it was possible to keep him in view, while the others had taken up their stations near that blockhouse which stood at the southwestern corner of the stockade.

Now and then we conversed in whispers, careful lest we disturb the lad, who appeared to be resting comfortably, and laid our plans for the morrow, when we were determined, as I have already said, to carry Elias Shendle to the cave.

It seemed probable we would be able to do this and return to the fort within four or five hours, since the journey was to be made during the day, and I said to myself that we were fully warranted in thus spending the time which could have been employed in looking for others, for here was one whose life might be saved. Even though he had not been a dear friend, I argued that it would be criminal in us to pass him by on the chance of finding others.

Now and then we two lads slumbered a few moments, for the soughing of the wind through the trees, the darkness, and the myriad of night noises, all tended to render our eyelids heavy. Sleep did not come, however, with such effect as to render us unconscious of any unusual sound, and when, perhaps half an hour before daybreak, the noise of rapid footsteps coming across the enclosure was heard, I sprang to my feet, knowing there must be some good reason for such rapid approach.

It was Daniel Hinchman who came up, but before he could speak I placed my hand over his mouth, in token that Elias might be disturbed by the sound of voices, and then led him a short distance from the building, to hear the message which he brought.

“Master Bartlett has sent me to say that we have good reason for believing a party of the enemy is coming this way from the direction of Fort Ogden, and one of you lads is to join him at the blockhouse.”

Without thinking I might be detained many moments, and also fancying, in my stupidity, that it was a false alarm, I ran back and repeated in Giles March’s ear that which Daniel had said, adding on my own account:

“Do you remain with Elias, and as soon as may be I will come back to let you know what is in the wind.”

Then I followed Daniel, and we had hardly more than joined the others when all doubts as to the cause of the alarm were set at rest, for the voices of Indians could be plainly heard.

“After having destroyed the settlement, what may they be coming for now?” I whispered, not intending to ask a question; but Stephen Morley heard the words, and replied, grimly:

“It has most like entered their minds that this stockade was left standing, and now they have returned to complete the work of destruction. We are like to have trouble, for even though I may be at fault as to the reason of their coming, it is not likely the villains will pass by the fort without trying to have a look at the inside.”

I had left my musket just inside the blockhouse, with the weapons belonging to the other members of the party, and this I took up, making certain it was loaded and primed, but forgetting in the excitement that I should have hastened back to tell Giles March of what had been said.

The savages were coming straight toward the fort, talking now and then among themselves as if suspicious that there might be in the vicinity white people whom they could butcher, and our little company stood just behind the main gates, where had been made loopholes for the use of the defenders.

“Are we to open fire immediately they come in view?” I whispered to Master Bartlett, and he replied:

“That is for you to say, Jonathan Ogden. We yet count this the company of Minute Boys who defended Fort Jenkins, and Stephen Morley and myself are two privates under your command.”

“Nay, nay, Master Bartlett, do not jest at such a time as this,” I said irritably. “It is for you and Stephen Morley to say what should be done, even though we had a full company here.”

“Then it is to my mind, lad, that when the villains are come close to the gates we shall open fire, taking good care each bullet counts, for it will avail us nothing to give them an opportunity to decide how we may be attacked. In fact, we are not in position to stand a long battle, because of the probability that there may be many others of their kind in the vicinity.”

Then it was we understood, by the sound of the voices, that the newcomers had halted a short distance away, and I was on the point of clambering up to the sentry’s platform in the hope of seeing what might have stopped them, when suddenly there rang out on the night air a woman’s voice, shrill and full of agony.

At that cry, which came to our ears like an appeal for help which could not be disregarded, Master Bartlett forgot entirely that he claimed to be only a private under my command, and said sharply, as he began to unbar the gates:

“Stand ready, lads! They have found some poor creature who had been hiding in the ruins of her own home, perchance, and we will take a hand in the matter whatever may be the result.”

One of the big gates had been swung open wide enough to admit of our passing out, before the old man ceased speaking, and I was the first to go through the opening, showing how illy fitted I was to command even this remnant of a company of Minute Boys, since I forgot entirely our wounded comrade and he who watched by his side.

It was Stephen Morley who halted me by placing his hand on my shoulder, as he whispered:

“One moment, lad, until Simon Bartlett has decided who shall remain to hold the stockade,” and then I remembered my neglect, turning on the instant to make amends by going back, when Master Bartlett, having thrust Miles Parker aside, said to him:

“Bar the gate after we are on the outside, and await some signal from us before you open it again.”

Then he pressed forward upon my heels, and I could not have delayed if I would.

Again came that cry of agony, and I could think only of the poor creature in such sore straits; but yet had sufficient sense to understand that we must go out under some leadership, rather than helter-skelter like a flock of sheep.

“Lead on, Stephen Morley, and I will bring up the rear,” Master Bartlett said, and thus were our preparations made.

There was no need to search for the foe; the savages were laughing and chattering like a lot of baboons, so that even in the darkest night might we have gone directly toward them without making any mistake, and since Stephen Morley continued on around the stockade, keeping close within the denser shadows of the walls, we came so near to the red wolves that it seemed almost as if I could have thrust out my hand and touched the nearest without leaving my tracks.

They numbered, I judged in the first hurried glance, not less than ten or twelve, and were clustered around a woman, who was kneeling on the ground before them begging for mercy, and three children, one of whom a painted brute held high in his hand, as if to dash it to the ground.

I saw Stephen Morley level his musket, and knew full well what target he aimed at, therefore did I follow his example, save that I counted to send my bullet into the heart of the wretch who stood nearest the woman.

There was no need that we await the word of command. As if our little party had been standing shoulder to shoulder, and could understand by the sense of touch what was being done, our muskets were discharged in a volley that rang out as one report.

Four of the savages fell, and it was as if they had hardly reached the ground before we were upon the others, striking with our clubbed muskets right and left, knowing that upon the swiftness of our movements depended the life of this poor woman and her children, for they would have plunged their weapons into the helpless ones before turning to meet us had we given them time.

It was the suddenness of our first attack, and the quickness with which we followed it up, that prevented them from making any attempt at fighting, more particularly since they were all ignorant as to how much of a force had fallen upon them.

In a twinkling those who were left alive turned and fled like the curs that they were, leaving behind them five of their number, while it is safe to promise that more than one of those who ran carried with them bullets that had been moulded by the women of Wyoming Valley.

“Pick up the youngsters and make for the fort,” Master Bartlett said, sharply, seizing the arm of the woman, who yet remained on her knees as if paralyzed with fear, and I venture to say that one could not have counted sixty from the time we left the stockade until we were inside it once more and the gates barred, with the woman and her three children in safety.

“Why did you beat a retreat when we were having the best of it?” I asked of Master Bartlett, feeling aggrieved because he had turned tail when there was a possibility, as it seemed to me, of inflicting further injury upon the enemy.

“Because it stands us in hand to keep them in ignorance of our numbers,” he replied. “If, peradventure, they have learned how weak a force we are, then can we count on seeing not only those who have retreated, but an hundred others, mayhap, in front of this stockade by sunrise.”

This he said to me hurriedly, and literally shouldered me aside as he spoke, that he might look in the face of the woman whom we had saved.

“This is Mrs. Stockbridge, if I’m not mistaken,” the old man said, taking the yet terrified woman by the arm. “What were you doing here, mistress, that you failed to join the others in their flight?”

“It is Master Bartlett!” she cried in a frenzy of joy, as she seized the old man’s hand. “Thank God you were come in time to save my little ones!”

“But what have you been doing here so long?” the old man asked, sharply.

“When the others fled I was left behind because of trying to save some little things for the children, and on coming out of the house found myself alone in the settlement.”

“And then?” Master Bartlett cried. “And then why did you not go?”

“Because I dared not!” she wailed. “It seemed as if we were entirely surrounded by the savages, and, not being able to carry all three of the children, I knew it was impossible they could keep pace with me in the rapid flight.”

“But when the savages burned this settlement?” Stephen Morley asked, and of a verity it did seem a miracle that this woman should have been alive, amid the ruins of her house, in which hardly four of the timbers were unconsumed.

“On finding ourselves alone, deserted, as it were, I went into the cellar with the children, and there, in the casks which had been sunken that we might make saltpetre, I took refuge, not knowing when the building was fired.”

“And you lived while your home burned above your heads?” Stephen Morley demanded, but it was a useless question since there stood the woman before him.

“Yes, by the goodness of God. Because we had been working so lately with the lye, and in order to get the water from the outside had brought it in a stream across what remained of the floor, such timbers as I could pile above us were sodden; they protected us even against the heat of the burning house.”

“And have you been there ever since?” I asked in astonishment, saying to myself that it was little more surprising she and her children had lived in that narrow hiding-place so long than that the poor protection had saved them from the fire.

“I gathered up food when we made ready for the flight, and therefore had plenty with which to feed the babies, while one of the casks was filled with clear water, therefore, save for being in such narrow quarters, we suffered no harm.”

“And how was it the savages discovered you at this time?” some one asked, and then we learned that it was through us the poor woman had ventured out at the very moment when danger lurked close at hand.

It seemed that she had heard our voices when we came through the settlement, and only waited to make certain we were not pursuers. Leaving the children in the place of concealment, she had come out a few moments before, listening at the gate of the stockade until satisfying herself who was inside. Then returning, and taking the children with her, started for the fort just as John Butler’s butchers arrived.

“It was well we decided to leave the cave,” Master Bartlett said as if speaking to himself. “Not yet twelve hours since we set out, and here are four lives saved. What may we not do later?” Then, in a louder tone, he added, turning to me, “Our work is cut for us, lad; it lies here and there among the ruins of the different settlements, rather than in any fortified place.”

While he was speaking to me Mistress Stockbridge had been kissing and fondling her children as if after a long time of separation, and I could well understand she believed, in her ignorance, that after all the horrors of the past few days was she come unto deliverance, whereas she stood, perhaps, in more danger than while among the lye-casks under the ruins of her home.

“Is there any good reason why we should stand here chattering like a party of old women?” Stephen Morley asked impatiently, and I, surprised at his tone, turned upon him with the question:

“What would you have us do?”

“Anything rather than remain here. Is it in your mind that those savages whom we sprang upon so suddenly are yet running? Even though there was nothing else to call them back, they would strive to save the scalps of their friends whom we have killed, as you should know from what has been done in the past. It is time we were making a move.”

“True for you, Stephen Morley,” Master Bartlett said, heartily. “I was near to forgetting myself, in the joy of knowing we had been allowed to save this poor woman and her children from the knives of those fiends.”

“But where are we to go?” I asked, helplessly, thus showing how little I knew concerning the work in which I embarked when joining the Minute Boys.

“It matters little, so that we be not here when those whom we attacked return, as return they will very shortly.”

Then it was that I bethought me now had come the time when no complaint could be made against the plan which Giles March and I had formed of carrying Elias Shendle to the cave, and I said, beginning to speak even as Giles himself came across the enclosure to learn the cause of the firing:

“You can’t go far, or make any very desperate fight while Mistress Stockbridge and her children are of the party, neither am I willing that we desert Elias Shendle while he is unable to raise a hand in his own defence.”

“Well, lad?” Master Bartlett said, impatiently, knowing most like I had some plan to propose.

“It is in this way, as Giles March and I have figured it: We two can carry Elias Shendle to the cave, returning here within five hours, if so be we travel in the light, and day is now close at hand. Why is it not an act of prudence to take the poor lad to our refuge, and with him these four who have just been rescued?”

“It is what should be done,” Master Bartlett said decidedly, and much to my surprise, for I had fancied he might take stand against the proposal. “If we are to accomplish anything more, we cannot be hampered by such helpless ones as these,” and he pointed toward the children. “We will all go back with you a mile, perhaps, and then, returning, so cover the trail that the savages may not be able to follow it.”

For the first time since we had found that place of safety on the mountainside, did I realize how simple a matter it might be for those human bloodhounds to track us out, for we had journeyed back and forth without giving heed to our footsteps.

It sounds strange that a lad living in such times, and accustomed to a life of danger, himself trailing man and beast when the necessity arose, should have forgotten entirely how easy it would be for the enemy to come upon that refuge which we had, in our heedlessness, believed no foe could find.

However, that wasn’t the time to consider such a matter. Our helpless ones were there, and must remain for a certain number of days at all events. We could only hope that they might be able to defend themselves, should need arise. At present, it was for us to pursue the plans we had formed and already begun.

As soon as Master Bartlett had fallen in so completely with the proposition made by me, Giles March and I set about making a litter, which consisted of two saplings bound together by vines, interwoven so closely as to form a rude bed on which the sufferer could lie.

Because in this work all assisted, we were ready in less than ten minutes from the time of the rescue to set out, and then the grayish hue of the eastern sky was telling of the day to come. Giles March and I stripped off our hunting-shirts, laying them across the saplings in order to render the rude litter a trifle more comfortable to the poor lad, and when we lifted him upon this rough couch he opened his eyes, looking at us in a manner which told he understood what we were doing.

“It is to carry you back among the mountains, dear lad,” I said to him as I laid both our muskets by his side. “There will be found those who can care for you better than we, and you will be safe from the fiends who have worked so much of misery upon us.”

“Death is very near to me, Jonathan Ogden,” he whispered, “and it seems better you should strive to aid those who have more of life remaining in them.”

“We shall so patch you up, Elias Shendle, that within two weeks’ time you will be begging to go out with us, when we show to John Butler that his hand is not so mighty as the happenings of the past two or three days have led him to believe,” Giles March said, cheerily.

Then, taking up the handles of the litter, we set off, Mistress Stockbridge walking by Elias’s side, where she might be able to minister to his wants, and the children following close behind.

After them marched the remainder of the party, and as we went out through the gates of the stockade the day was so nearly come that it was possible to see our way through the thicket with reasonable clearness.

Thus did we take up the line of march, silently, for the children, young though they were, realized, after their past terrible experience, how necessary it was they should hold their peace. We were returning to that little refuge in the mountainside where the helpless ones might be left, as we believed, in safety.

Once well clear of the fort Master Bartlett halted us, saying, as he did so:

“In order that you two lads may be the fresher for the task yet before you when we have gone as far as seems best, let Miles Parker and Daniel Hinchman carry the litter.”

It was a heavy burden over that rough way, but yet we would not have complained, however severe the labor. When, however, Master Bartlett himself made this suggestion, it seemed to me a good one, since by acting upon it we could advance just so much the more rapidly.

After this change had been made we went on hurriedly, for there was no telling how soon those painted curs would be at our heels, and when we had covered a mile or more in distance, again the old man called a halt.

“Now has come the time when we shall turn back, Jonathan Ogden. Instead of making any further effort to go up the valley, we will wait somewhere between here and the stockade for your coming, unless, peradventure, those savages who left us so suddenly should come back in the meanwhile with reinforcements, and we be obliged to shift quarters. Do not delay any longer than may be necessary, but on approaching the settlement again, take ample time to move warily, for I warn you that the danger will be great.”

This was our leave-taking, and my heart was light when Giles March and I continued on, bearing Elias Shendle between us, with Mistress Stockbridge and the children following close at hand, for there was no question in my mind but that within five hours, at the very longest, we would again be with those whom we called comrades.

More than once before we arrived at the cave was it necessary for Giles and me to set down the burden in order to relieve our aching arms; but I promise you that the halts were no longer than seemed absolutely necessary, for we had good reason to make the utmost speed.

It can well be supposed that Mistress Morley and Esther Hinchman were surprised when, while yet a short distance from the cave, we cried out to them that we were returning, lest they should be alarmed at hearing footsteps, and then, as they came to know what we had already succeeded in doing, their joy can be perhaps faintly imagined.

It seemed to me that more than once during the journey had Elias slumbered or lapsed into unconsciousness, but when we took him into the cave where he was greeted by Samuel Rogers and Oscar Stephenson—when he saw what seemed to be a place of refuge from all the horrors which had surrounded him, his face lighted up with sudden joy, and I fancied that the belief he had escaped from his enemies was already doing much toward his recovery.

We made up another bed of twigs and leaves, where the lad could lie between his two wounded comrades, and, having made him thus comfortable, were ready to depart. Mistress Stockbridge and the children seemed wondrously contented—almost happy, if any one could have been happy in Wyoming Valley at that time, and were settled down as if at home.

It seemed necessary we should delay our departure sufficiently long to tell Esther Hinchman of all that had happened since our starting out, and when the story was come to an end she said, as if a premonition of what was to follow overshadowed her:

“Why do you lads go back so soon? If it be that the remainder of the company are to stay in hiding until nightfall, you had best stop here a while longer.”

“But they will be looking for us, and, if we fail to show ourselves at the time set, might come to see what had happened,” I said, laughingly.

Then we two, Giles March and I, went out, leaving the girl standing at the entrance of the cave watching with wistful eyes, as if fearing lest something terrible was about to overtake us.

With the feeling that the Minute Boys of Wyoming Valley were accomplishing something of good, even though their numbers had been so sadly lessened, we lads walked on without thought of taking heed as to silence. A sense of security was upon us while we were so near the eastern mountains, but before we had travelled no more than half a mile Giles March, who was in the advance, stopped suddenly, stepping backward until he was pressed close against me.

Even then there was no suspicion in my mind that he might have seen one of the savages, and, thinking a bear or some other animal was within easy musket-shot, I looked in the direction he was gazing.

Then it was as if my heart stood still and the blood in my veins grew chill, for I saw amid the green leaves, hardly twenty paces away, a half-naked savage coming toward us, stooping, with his eyes fastened upon the ground as if he was following the trail.

There was no time then to speculate as to why the villain had come, nor how he could have followed our tracks without meeting the remainder of the party. The traces upon the leaves and earth would lead him directly to the cave and, however many might be behind, it was our duty to cut him short in the chase.

The same thought must have been in Giles’s mind, for before I could raise my musket he fired. The Indian stopped suddenly, half-raised himself, and then wheeled about, being lost to view amid the foliage in an instant.

We two stood staring at each other in fear and amazement, knowing beyond a peradventure that the discovery of our refuge, by the enemy was close at hand, for even though this cur did not live to join his fellows, they would soon come upon his trail and then follow ours.

Thus it was that all suddenly and without warning, our cave, wherein the helpless ones sought safety, was become the most dangerous spot that could be found, and I grew sick with fear and indecision, not knowing whether it was our duty to stay and defend the place which would likely soon be assaulted, or first speed on to tell Master Bartlett and his company of the disaster which seemed so near at hand.