CHAPTER XXVII--THE FIGHT AT THE FORT
So toilsome was the road to trace, and so far away was the fortifiedcamp of our heroes, that the sun was almost setting before Benee arrivedwith his precious charge.
Why should I make any attempt to describe the meeting of Roland and Dickwith the long-lost Peggy?
Roland and she had always been as brother and sister, and now that theywere once more united, all her joy found vent in a flood of tears, whichher brother did what he could to stem.
It seemed hardly possible that she should be here safe and sound, and inthe presence of those who loved her so well and dearly.
And here, too, was Brawn, who was delirious with joy, and honest Billwith his meerschaum.
"Oh, surely I shall not awake and find it all a dream!" she cried interror. "Awake and find myself still in that awful palace, with itsdreadful surroundings and the odour of death everywhere! Oh--h!"
The girl shuddered.
"Dear Peggy," said Dick tenderly, "this is no dream; you are with usagain, and we with you. All the past is as nothing. Let us live forthe future. Is that right, Roland?"
"Yes, you must forget the past, Peggy," said Roland. "Dick is right.The past shall be buried. We are young yet. The world is all beforeus. So come, laugh, and be happy, Peggy."
"And this charming child here, who is she?" said Dick. He alluded toWeenah.
"That is little Weenah, a daughter of the wilds, a child of the desert.Nay, but no child after all, are you, Weenah?"
Weenah bent her dark eyes on the ground.
"I am nothing," she said. "I am nobody, only--Benee's."
"But, Weenah," said Peggy, taking the girl by the hand, "oh, how I shallmiss you when you go!"
"Go?" said Weenah wonderingly.
"Yes, dear, you have a father and a mother, who are fond of you. Mustyou not return soon to them?"
"My father and my mother I love," replied Weenah. "And you I love, foryou have taught me to pray to the pale-face's God. You have taught memany, many things that are good and beautiful. My life now is all joyand brightness, and so, though I love my mother and my father, oh! bidme not to leave you."
All this was spoken in the language of the country. It was Greek tothose around them, but even Bill could see that the dark-eyed maiden waspleading for something, for her hand was in Peggy's, her eyes upon hers.
----
It was just at this moment that scouts came hurrying in from the forest,bringing news that was startling enough, as well as surprising.
These men had come speedily in, almost as fleet of foot as deer, and theword they brought was that the savages, at least six hundred strong,were not more than three hours distant.
Roland showed no excitement, whatever he might feel. Nor did Dick. Yetboth were ready for action.
Burly Bill, who had been quietly smoking a little way off, put his greatthumb in the bowl of his meerschaum, and stowed away that faithfulcompanion of his in his coat-pocket.
Can a young fellow still in his teens, and whom we older men are all tooapt to sneer at as a mere boy, prove himself a good general. He may andhe can, if he has grit in him and a head of some sort surmounting hisshoulders.
From what followed I think Roland proved that he was in possession ofboth.
Well, he had descended from a long line of hardy Cornish ancestors, andthere is more in good blood than we are apt to believe.
He came to the front now at all events, and Dick and Bill, to saynothing of Benee, Rodrigo, and the other canoe captains, were ready toobey his every command.
Roland called a council of war at once, and it did not take long to cometo a decision.
Our chief hero was the principal speaker. But brave men do not losemuch time in words.
"Boys," he said, "we've got to fight these rascally savages. That's so,I think?"
"That's so," was the chorus.
"Well, and we've got to beat them, too. We want to give them somethingthat shall keep them both quiet and civil until we can afford to sendout a few missionaries to improve their morals.
"Now, Rodrigo, I cannot force you to fight."
"Force, sir? I need no force. Command me."
"Well, I will. I wish to outflank these beggars. You and our Indians,with Benee as your guide, are just the men to do so.
"The moon will be up in another hour. It will be the harvest-moon inEngland. The harvest-moon here, too--but a harvest, alas! of blood.
"Now, Benee," he continued, "as soon as we are ready, guide these menwith Captain Rodrigo for some distance down-stream, then curl round thesavages, and when they begin to retreat, or even before that, attackthem in the rear. Good luck to you!"
As silently as ghosts two hundred and fifty well-armed Indians, a shorttime after Roland made that brave little speech, glided down the brow ofthe hill, and disappeared in the woods beyond.
Though our heroes listened, they could not hear a sound, not even thecrackling of a bush or broken branch.
Soon the moon glared red through the topmost boughs of the far-offtrees, and flooded all the land with a light almost as bright as day.The stars above, that before had glittered on the river's ripplingbreast, and the stars beneath--those wondrous flittingfire-insects--paled before its beams, and the night-birds sought forshelter in caves among the rocks. So over all the prairie and woodlandsthere fell a stillness that was almost oppressive. It was as if Natureheld her breath, expectant of the fight that was to follow.
Nor was that fight very long delayed. But it must have been well ontowards midnight before the first indication of an approaching foe wasmade manifest.
Only a long, mournful hoot, away in the bush, and bearing a closeresemblance to that of the owl.
It was repeated here and there from different quarters, and our heroesknew that an attack was imminent.
There was in the centre of the camp a roomy cave. In this all stores hadbeen placed, with water enough for a night at all events, and here werePeggy and Weenah safely guarded by Brawn. Roland had managed to makethe darkness visible by lighting two candles and placing them on thewall.
In a smaller cave was Peter, and as he had given evidence lately of agreat desire to escape, the boys had taken the liberty to rope him.
"You shall live to repent this," hissed the man through his teeth.
He had thrown overboard all his plausibility now, and assumed hisnatural self--the dangerous villain.
"Have a care," replied Dick, "or you will not live long enough to repentof anything."
On one side of the camp was the river, down under a cliff ofconsiderable height. It was very quiet and sluggish just here, and itsgentle whispering was no louder than a light breeze sighing throughforest trees.
There were, therefore, really only three sides of the parapet and hillto defend.
And now Burly Bill's quick ear caught the sound of rustling down below.
"The savages are on us," he said quietly.
"Then give them a volley to begin with," answered Roland.
The white men started down scores of huge stones; but this was more forthe purpose of bringing the savages into sight than with a view to woundor kill any.
It had the desired effect, and probably another, for the cannibals musthave believed the pale-faces had no other means of defence.
They were seen now in the bright moonlight scrambling up-hill in scores,with knives in their mouths and spears on their backs.
"Fire straight and steadily, men," cried the young chief, Roland. "Fireindependently, and every man at the enemy in front of him."
A well-aimed and rattling volley, followed by another and another, madethe Indians pause. The number of dead and wounded was great, andimpeded the progress of those who would have rushed up and on.
Volley after volley was now poured into the savage ranks, but they camepressing up from behind as black and fierce and numerous as a colony ofmountain-ants.
Their yelling and war-
cries were terrible to hear.
But the continuous volley-firing still kept them at bay.
"The rockets, Dick, are they ready?"
"Yes, captain, all ready."
"Try the effect of these."
It was a fearful sight to witness those dread weapons of warfare tearthrough the ranks of these shrieking demons.
Death and mutilation was dealt on every side, and the fire from theramparts grew fiercer and fiercer.
Yet so terrible in their battle-wrath are these cannibals, that--wellour heroes knew--if they were to scale the ramparts, even the white menwould not be able to stand against them.
Then the fight would degenerate into a massacre, and this would befollowed by an orgie too awful to contemplate.
At this moment there could not have been fewer than five hundred savagesstriving to capture the little hill on which stood the camp, andRoland's men in all were barely eighty. Some who had exposed themselveswere speedily brought down with poisoned arrows, and already laywrithing in the agonies of spasmodic death.
But see, led on by the chief Kaloomah himself, who seems to bear acharmed life, the foremost ranks of those sable warriors have alreadyall but gained footing on the ramparts, while with axe and adze thepale-faces endeavour to repel them.
In vain!
Kaloomah--great knife in hand--and at least a score of his braves haveeffected an entrance, and the whites, though fighting bravely, are beingpushed, if not driven back.
It is a terrible moment!