CHAPTER XV.
THE CONFERENCE.
Mr. Grant, like all settlers and backwoodsmen, had a profound respectand veneration for his weapons. They were absolutely necessary forpurposes of defence in a new country, and upon their skilful use oftendepended the supplies in the family larder. More coveted than any otherproperty by the Indians, trappers and strollers of the prairies, he wasobliged to secure them carefully, so that they should not be stolen;and Mr. Grant, in building his house, had provided the place behind theoven for their reception.
One of the guns was a fowling-piece, and the other a rifle. Theappropriate ammunition for each was kept in the secret closet with theweapon. For the revolver there was a plentiful supply of patentcartridges. Mr. Grant owned two of these arms, but the other he hadtaken with him.
Like all western boys, Ethan French was accustomed to the use of therifle and the fowling-piece, though he had never particularlydistinguished himself as a marksman. It was a bold idea on his part tothink of defending Fanny and himself from the attacks of the savages;but, desperate as was the thought, it was his only hope, for theIndians were murdering all who fell into their hands. There was aslight chance for him, which he was disposed to improve.
Ethan evidently had some other purpose in view than that of merelydefending himself and his companion from the savages--a purposeindicated by his capture of the Indian boy, though he had not had timeto explain it to Fanny. He was firm and resolute, exhibiting a couragewhich no one would have supposed he possessed; indeed, we can hardlyknow what is in any person until he is tried in the fiery furnace.
Fanny, too, had ceased to tremble. The firmness and determination ofEthan had inspired her with courage, and without stopping to considerthe odds against him, she ventured to hope that his efforts would becrowned with some measure of success. The occupation of the last fewmoments was calculated to increase her courage, for "something to do"is always the best antidote for fear. She had bound the young savage,and secured him to the door, when Ethan appeared with the weapons; andnow she anxiously waited the development of his next movement.
"What are you going to do, Ethan?" she asked, as her companion walkedto the door.
"I don't know jest exactly what I'm go'n to do; but I'm go'n to dosunthin', as sure as you're alive. I reckon I've done sunthin' already,for them Injins hes come to a dead halt."
"Can you see them?"
"Yes, I kin. They look kinder anxious."
The group of savages had gathered around the prostrate form of thesquaw. She could not have been killed, or even very badly injured, bythe blow she had received. Two of the party appeared to be at work overher, while the others, among whom Lean Bear was prominent, were holdinga consultation near the spot.
"I reckon I got 'em whar the har 's short," added Ethan, with somethinglike a chuckle at his own cleverness.
"What do you mean, Ethan?" asked Fanny, not yet able to comprehend thesituation.
"D'ye see that little Injin?" replied he, pointing at the prisoner.
"Yes; and I wondered what you dragged him into the house for."
"Don't you see his fine fixin's--his necklaces and his moccasons? Ireckon that boy belongs to the big Injin."
"You mean Lean Bear."
"Yes, if that's his name. He looks enough like him to be his son.Gittin' him 's what made 'em stop short jist whar they was. I tell youwe've got 'em whar the har 's short."
"What are you going to do with him?"
"Don't ye see?" replied Ethan, as he finished loading the last of theweapons. "I'm go'n to shoot some of them Injins; and ef they don't keepoff I'm go'n to shoot the boy."
"You wouldn't do that, Ethan."
"You bet!" replied he, firmly, using more western slang than wasnecessary, though he was dependent upon such expressions for the forceof his language.
"But it would be wicked to kill the poor boy."
"What's them Injins doin' to all the white folks?"
"That is no reason why you should kill a harmless boy."
"I don't want to kill him; it would make me feel bad to do any sechthing. Ef any of them Injins come near us, I'm go'n to show 'em what Ikin do. Keep still now; one on 'em is comin' up this way."
Ethan placed himself at one of the open windows, and cocked the rifle.One of the party was moving towards the house, apparently sent thitherby Lean Bear, who appeared suddenly to have become very quiet andharmless.
"See hyer, Fanny," said Ethan, still keeping his eye fixed on theapproaching foe.
"What shall I do?" asked Fanny.
"Did you tie that little Injin's hands strong?"
"As well as I could with my handkerchief."
"Better do it better with the clothes line. Then undo his feet, and puta rope round his neck."
"Around his neck!" exclaimed Fanny, horrified at the suggestion.
"Jest to lead him by. We may want to quit this house reyther suddin."
Fanny obeyed, satisfied that Ethan did not intend to hang the boy. TheIndian, approaching the house, moved very slowly and cautiously,frequently stopping, and examining the house with great care. Ethan wason one of his knees, pointing the rifle at the single Indian, restingit on the sill of the window. When Lean Bear's messenger saw him, hecame to a halt, and began to make earnest gestures, pointing to hisbelt, and throwing out his arms to indicate that he had no weapons.
"What does that creetur want?" mused Ethan.
"He wants to talk with you," replied Fanny, correctly interpreting hisgestures.
"I can't talk Injin--kin you?"
"No; but some of the Indians talk English."
"What ye want?" shouted Ethan, satisfied that the man's intentions werepeaceful.
"Talk! talk!" replied the messenger.
"Kim along, then," replied Ethan. "That's jest what I want, too," headded, to Fanny. "I want to tell them Injins that this hyer boy willketch fits if they don't let us be."
The Indian, still gesticulating, continued to approach the house withcautious step. Ethan put aside the rifle, and took the revolver, whichhe was careful that the messenger should see.
"Stop thyer!" said he, when the Indian had come within twenty feet ofthe house; and, at the same time, he elevated his pistol to enforceobedience to his order.
"Me talk," said the messenger.
"Well! what ye got to say?" asked Ethan.
"You got Wahena--little Wahena."
"Yes, sir!" replied Ethan, with emphasis. "I've got him, and I mean tokeep him."
"No keep! We want Wahena," continued the messenger.
"No git him," added Ethan, who was inclined to be facetious at times,especially when the advantage was on his side.
"Lean Bear's son. Big Lean Bear--little Wahena."
"You can't hev him, nohow," said Ethan, decidedly.
"Me get Wahena--you go 'way--no kill, no hurt."
"You can't fool me."
"No kill, no hurt."
"No, yer don't!"
"Give Wahena--no kill, no hurt," repeated the messenger, impressively.
"You git out!"
"No give Wahena, Lean Bear kill!"
"Two kin play at that game," added Ethan, shaking his head. "Ef youdon't quit, I'll kill the boy."
"No kill Wahena!" cried the savage, evidently horrified at the threat.
"Yes, I will, old boy, ef you don't all go off, and quit right away. Iknow what's what, 'n you can't fool me, nohow."
"Why not give up the boy, if they will let us go?" asked Fanny.
"You can't trust one o' them Injin creeturs no more'n you kin trust arattlesnake, nohow. Jest fetch the boy here, and I'll show 'em what Imean."
Fanny had fastened Wahena's hands more securely behind him, andattached one end of the line to his neck. She had removed the cord fromhis ankles, so that he could walk, while by the rope at his neck hecould be kept under perfect control. Ethan took the line, and led theboy out at the door, where he was placed in full view of the savages.His captor still held the leaded pistol in his hand
.
"No kill Wahena!" shouted the messenger, fiercely.
"I won't hurt him ef you all go off--go 'way--clear out--quit theranch."
"No hurt?" asked the Indian.
"All go 'way," answered Ethan, pointing to the west with the revolver.
"Give Wahena--all go."
"No, _sir_!"
"No give Wahena?"
"I'll kill him ef them creeturs come hyer," said Ethan, sternly, as hepointed the pistol at the boy's head.
"No kill Wahena!" shouted the messenger.
"Tell 'em to keep back, then."
This demonstration on the part of Ethan had been caused by the suddenmovement of the savages towards the house. Their spokesman fortunatelyunderstood his meaning, and turning round, he shouted out a few wordsin the Indian dialect, accompanying them with violent gestures, whichhad the effect to stop the nearer approach of the band. As they movedback, Ethan lowered his weapon. Wahena did not flinch, nor exhibit anysigns of terror while he was menaced with the pistol, though he lookedstern and resolute, as he had probably been taught to be by his savagefather.
Ethan, finding that he had the power all in his own hands, walked a fewpaces nearer to the messenger, dragging his prisoner after him. It wasnot an easy matter to carry on a conversation with the savage, whoseknowledge of the English language was limited to a few words; but aftera long time, and a great deal of effort, he succeeded in making theIndian spokesman understand his intention. He refused to give upWahena, but he promised that the boy should not be injured if theIndians would retire, and not attempt to molest Fanny or himself. Heassured the messenger that he would kill the boy if the savagesfollowed, or fired upon himself or his companion.
It was a long and trying conference, and when the parties came to anunderstanding, the Indian withdrew to communicate the result to hischief. Ethan returned to the house with his prisoner, and from thewindow watched the movements of the foe, while he related to Fanny whathad passed between himself and the messenger during the interview.
"I reckon they'll do it, Fanny," said Ethan.
"I hope they will."
"When we are safe, they kin hev the Injin boy; I don't want him. Ireckon it was a smart idee o' mine, ketchin' the young cub."
"I think it was a very good idea. They would certainly have butcheredus before this time if it hadn't been for him."
"I reckon they would; but ef I knows myself, some on 'em would hev gonedown fust."
"I suppose the Indians have murdered a great many people."
"I reckon they hev."
"It's awful!" exclaimed Fanny, shuddering, as she glanced at the placewhere poor Mrs. Grant lay cold and still in death.
"So 'tis, but 'tain't no use to think on't now; it makes a feller feelkind o' weak and sickly. We must figur' it out now."
"Thanks to your good management, we may yet escape."
"I reckon we will. Did you ever fire a pistil, Fanny?"
"No, but I'm not afraid to do so."
"Better take this, then, and I'll use the guns. I reckon it may be ofuse to you," added he, handing her the weapon. "Hokee!" suddenlyexclaimed he, as he glanced out of the window.
"What is it, Ethan?"
"Them Injins is go'n off!"
"So they are."
"Mebbe they're comin' round to try us on t'other side of the house. Efthey be, I'm thar. You hold on to the little Injin, and I'll watch'em."
Ethan went to a window on the front of the house, and soon returnedwith the gratifying intelligence that the redskins were actually movingoff in the direction of the burning buildings to the west of them.
"How thankful we ought to be that we have been saved!" said Fanny. "Letus thank God with all our hearts, Ethan."
"We can't stop to do no more prayin' now, Fanny. Besides, we ain't outo' the woods yet."
"We need not stop to pray," replied Fanny, devoutly. "If the prayer isin our hearts, God will understand it."
"I'm thankful, I'm sure, as a body kin be. Now, you git togethereverything you kin find to eat, and I'll git a wheelbarrer to fetch 'emdown to the lake. Ef we kin only git on the island, I don't keer forall the redskins this side o' sundown."
Wahena was tied up in such a way that he could not escape, and Fannyhurriedly collected everything in the shape of provisions which hadescaped the depredations of the Indians. Ethan brought from thechambers an armful of blankets and bed-quilts, and the wheelbarrow wasloaded with all it would contain. A bushel of potatoes, a leg of bacon,a bucket of corn-meal, a small supply of groceries, and a few cookingutensils, constituted the stock upon which they were mainly to dependfor sustenance during their banishment from civilized life for theyknew not how long a time. But both of the exiles were hopeful, thoughvery sad, when they thought of the death and desolation they wereleaving behind them.