CHAPTER XIV
RETREAT OF THE PIONEERS
Dave's shout of warning reached Rodney's ears, and the young man turnedin time to see his father go down as just described. He gave a cry ofhorror and then, with set teeth, discharged his gun straight at thewarrior who had laid Mr. Morris low. His aim was true and the Indianfell to rise no more.
The fall of his uncle nerved Dave to greater effort, and as the Indiansrushed over the rocks he, with several others, met them in a short butbitter hand-to-hand contest, in which blows were freely taken anddelivered. The redskins were yelling at the top of their lungs and usingtheir tomahawks with great viciousness. Dave was confronted by a tallwarrior who did his best to split the youth's head open with hishatchet, but Dave dodged and the blow merely grazed his shoulder. Then,before the Indian could aim another blow a bullet from the rear cutshort the redskin's career forever.
The forest was now full of shouting, and shots were being fired withmarvelous rapidity. Those in the fort could not understand this. Hadthe Indians been re-enforced?
"If more redskins have come up we are doomed!" was the cry which wentthe rounds, but almost on top of it came a yell of joy:
"The rangers have come! We are saved!"
It was true, the command under Lieutenant Baldwick had come up after along running fight with some Indians journeying toward the fort. Theseredskins had been put to flight and with them about a dozen Frenchtrappers and traders under Jean Bevoir, one of the trappers having beenslain, along with two Indians. Now the rangers were fighting desperatelyto get to those hemmed in at the fort.
The coming of the soldiers put new life in the pioneers and the battlebroke forth afresh. Struck at from both the front and the rear theIndians received a galling fire which filled them with sudden terror.
In the midst of the rangers were James Morris and Sam Barringford.Dave's father was cool and determined and every shot from his musket wassent with deadly effect. Barringford seemed to be in his element, anddanced around so rapidly that not an Indian could draw a "bead" uponhim.
"Thet for ye!" he yelled, firing his gun at the nearest warrior. "An'how do yer like thet, eh?"--hitting a second with the butt of theweapon. "I'll show ye! Ain't I a roarin' painter when I'm cut loose!Cl'ar the track fer the bustin', roarin' whirlwind!" And thus shoutingin the style peculiar to the old-time trappers of that period he rushedin, literally cutting a path over the rocks and into the fort proper. Anarrow stuck through his coonskin cap and his hunting jacket was rippedin a dozen places by knives and tomahawks, yet with it all he seemed tobear a charmed life and laid low every warrior who dared to bar hisprogress.
In less than ten minutes after the rangers had appeared and closed inthe Indians began to retreat. Seeing them thus on the run, the pioneersand soldiers increased their efforts and soon the warriors were only tooglad to get back into the forest. They left the vicinity of the fort andtook up their stand several hundred yards away, behind a small hill,enclosed on two sides by rocks. It is possible they expected the rangersto follow them to this point, but for the time being they were notmolested.
The reason for this was easily explained. Both pioneers and rangers wereutterly fagged out--the former by their hasty flights from their homes,and the vigilance and fighting at the fort, and the latter because ofthe forced ride from Winchester, and the first battle in the forest withIndians and French. All needed a rest, and the wounded demandedattention. So for the time being the battle remained a drawn one.
As soon as it was made known that the Indians had retreated, a score ofrangers who were unhurt were set to watch their movements, and thenbegan the caring for the wounded. All told, it was found that six men,women and children had been killed outright and that one man wasmortally hurt. Of the pioneers five were wounded, and of the rangersthree, and of the killed two had been scalped.
"Dave, my son!" exclaimed James Morris, as he rushed up. "Are you safe?"
"Yes, father," was the answer. "And you?"
"I have a scratch on the leg, but it isn't much. How are the rest?"
"Uncle Joe has been shot down. I reckon the others are all right."
"Joe shot down? Is he--he----"
"There he is, over by the rocks. No, he isn't dead, but I think he'spretty bad. He got an arrow right in the breast."
Father and son hurried to the spot, to find Joseph Morris stretched outon a blanket and surrounded by all of his family, including Henry, whoduring the advance of the rangers had fought as bravely as anyone. Thearrow had been extracted and Mrs. Morris was using her utmost skill inbinding up the wound.
"What do you think, James?" she wailed. "Will he live?"
"While there is life let us hope, Lucy," answered the brother-in-law,tenderly. "Is he unconscious?"
"Yes," put in Rodney. "I--I'm afraid that arrow point was poisoned."
"Let me see the arrow."
It was passed over and James Morris examined it with care. At this pointSam Barringford also came up and he, too, looked the arrow over.
"Ain't no p'ison thar," said the old frontiersman. "Thet tribe uses bluejuice an' if thar war p'ison the blood would turn greenish. But it'srich red, as ye kin see. No, I allow as how he ain't p'isoned."
"I believe Sam tells the truth," said James Morris.
"But it's a fearful wound," said Dave. "I saw the arrow strike. It wentin straight."
All set to work to revive the unconscious sufferer and Barringfordinsisted upon obtaining some liquor and forcing a few teaspoonsful downthe wounded man's throat. At last they had the satisfaction of seeingJoseph Morris give a short gasp and open his eyes dreamily.
"Oh!" he murmured and for a moment was silent. "I--I am hit!" he wenton.
"Be quiet, Joseph," said his wife, bending over him. "Yes, you were hitin the breast with an arrow. We will do what we can for you, but youmustn't move, or the wound will start to bleed again."
"But the Indians--"
"The Indians have retreated," said Rodney. "The rangers have come, andUncle James is here, too, and so is Henry."
"All safe?"
"Yes."
"Thank God!" And then Joseph Morris relapsed once more into silence,being almost too weak to breathe much less to speak.
Little Nell had been crying bitterly, and now Henry took her in his armsand did his best to soothe her, for he knew his mother would not leavehis father's side.
"The bad, bad Indians!" cried the little girl. "Oh, how could they comeand shoot at us! And last night they tried to burn us up with their firearrows! Oh, it was dreadful!" And she buried her curly head in herbrother's shoulder.
The hours to follow were gloomy enough, and ones which those in thestockade never forgot. The man who had been mortally wounded diedshrieking with pain, and the sounds rang in the ears of both young andold, filling the latter with new grief. The dead were buried together inone deep hole and over their last resting place were rolled severalheavy stones, that no wild beasts might disturb their common grave. Theservice at this funeral was short, for there was no telling when theIndians might make another attack.
Toward the middle of the afternoon word came in through the friendlyIndians under White Buffalo that the French Indians, as they werecalled, were preparing for some new move. Instantly every available manin the fort leaped for his gun and even some of the women armedthemselves, determined to fight to the last rather than risk the horrorsof becoming captives of the enemy.
But the alarm proved a false one, for the Indians, although they shiftedtheir camp to the opposite side of the fort, did nothing but exchange afew shots with several of the rangers. Yet this move kept the pioneerson the alert all night, so that little or no sleep was had by anyone.
"I must say I'm so tired I can scarcely keep my eyes open," said Henryto Dave. "If we elect to retreat I don't see how I'm going to eitherride or walk."
"Take a nap," said Dave. "If another alarm comes I'll call you." AndHenry dropped down and was in the land of dreams almost on the instant.
; On the following morning a council of war was held by Captain Tanner,Lieutenant Baldwick and half a dozen of the leading pioneers, and it wasdecided that the best thing to do would be to retreat to Winchester.Provisions were getting low and so was ammunition, and the lieutenanthad been ordered not to hold Fort Lawrence, but do his best to bring inthe settlers and families in safety.
"The Indians are gathering steadily," said Lieutenant Baldwick. "Everyhour makes them stronger. I think the sooner we strike out the better itwill be for us." And in this Captain Tanner and the majority of thesettlers agreed.
The main difficulty which presented itself was how to care for thewounded. It would be running a grave risk to move Joseph Morris andseveral others, but there was no help for it, and the family were toldto prepare for leaving in an hour.
"We will make a litter between two horses," said James Morris. "Rodneycan ride on one of the animals and lead them along the smoothest part ofthe trail he can find. We will bind the wound as tightly as possible, sothat the blood won't get much chance to start afresh."
Mrs. Morris wished to demur, fearing her husband might die ere thejourney was completed. But she could not remain behind alone, and so,with a sinking heart, she prepared to move as had been ordered.
The settlers were cautioned to leave the fort as silently as possibleand to carry along only that which was absolutely necessary. Before theyleft the rangers and some of the Indians under White Buffalo went ahead,to make sure that the trail chosen by Captain Tanner was clear. Eight ofthe rangers remained at the fort, to give it the appearance of stillbeing inhabited and, in case of attack, to rush out and cover thesettlers' rear.