CHAPTER XV
THE DEED IN THE DARK
Henry was the leading swimmer, but he paused ten yards from the shoreand the others paused with him. Six black dots hung in a row on the darksurface of the river. But so well did they blend with the shadow of thestream that an Indian eye on the bank, no matter how sharp, might havepassed them over.
"The thing to do," said Henry, "is to make no noise. We must swimwithout splashing and we've got to find that flatboat with the cannon onit. You understand?"
Not a word was said in reply, but five heads nodded, and the silent sixresumed their swim across the Ohio. They had entered the stream as farup as possible in order that they might go diagonally toward the south,thus taking advantage of the current.
Henry turned over on his back, floating easily with the help of one handand holding the little pot above his face. Once he opened it a little tofeel that it was still warm from within, and, satisfied that it was so,he floated silently on. His position made it easiest for him to lookupward, but not much was to be seen there. The promise of the nightstill held good in performance. Rolling clouds hid the moon and stars,and again Henry gave thanks for so favorable a night.
His comrades swam so silently that he turned a little on his side to seethat they were there. Five black dots on the water followed him in aclose row, and, proud of their skill, he turned back again and stillfloated with his face to the skies.
They soon passed the middle of the river, and now the extremely delicatepart of their task was come. The lights on the northern bank hadincreased to a half dozen and were much larger. They seemed to be campfires. Dim outlines of canoes appeared against the bank.
Henry paused, and the five black heads behind him paused with him. Heraised his head a little from the water and studied the shore. A shape,bigger and darker than the others, told him where the flatboat lay.Owing to its greater draught, it was anchored in deeper water than thecanoes, which was a fortunate thing for the daring adventurers. Henrysaw the muzzles of the cannon, and a dark figure by each, evidently thewarriors on guard. He could see them, but they could not see him and hiscomrades, whose heads were blurred with the darkness of the river. Heturned on his side and whispered to Seth, who was next to him:
"I think we'd better swim above the flatboat, keeping at a gooddistance, and then drop down between it and the bank. They will not beexpecting an enemy from that side. What do you think of it, Seth?"
Seth Cole nodded, and they swam silently up stream. If any one splashedthe water it passed for the splash of a leaping fish, and there was noalarm in the Indian camp. Henry, studying the shore minutely as he swamwith slow stroke, could not see motion anywhere. The fires burned low,and now that they were dropping down near the shore he saw the dimoutlines of figures beside them. Some of the warriors slept in a sittingposture with their heads upon their knees, which were clasped in theirarms, while others lay in their blankets. The canoes, in which Indiansalso slept, were tied to saplings on the bank.
They swam now with the greatest slowness, barely making a stroke,drifting rather. Henry knew that not all the warriors on the bank wereasleep. Sentinels stood somewhere among the trees, and it was hard toescape the vigilance of an Indian on watch. Only a night of unusualdarkness made an approach such as theirs possible.
A broad shape rose out of the obscurity. It was the flatboat, now nottwenty feet away, and Henry paused a moment, the five heads pausing withhim.
"Nobody is watching on this side of the boat," whispered the youthfulleader, "and it will not be hard to climb over the side. We must all doso at once and make a rush."
"I'm thinkin' you're right," Seth Cole whispered back.
They headed straight for the flatboat and each put a hand upon its side.A Miami sentinel on the bank heard a splash a little louder than usual,and he saw a gleam of white in the water beside the flatboat.
The Miami sprang forward for a better look, but he was not in time. Sixwhite figures rose from the water. Six white figures gave a mightyheave, and the next moment they were upon the deck. The sentinels,looking toward the middle of the river, heard the sound of light,pattering footsteps behind them, and wheeled about. Despite theircourage, they uttered a cry of superstitious horror. Surely these white,unclad figures were ghosts, or gods come down from the skies! One in hisfright sprang overboard, but the other, recovering himself somewhat,fired at the foremost of the invaders. His bullet missed, and Henry, notnoticing him, rushed toward the little cabin. Here he saw some bedding,evidently taken with the boat from its former owners, and he emptied thecoals from the iron pot among it. A blaze instantly sprang up and spreadwith great rapidity. Despite the heat, Henry scattered the burning clotheverywhere with a canoe paddle that lay on the floor. Seth Cole and TomWilmore were also setting the boat on fire in a half dozen places.
The flames roared around them, and then they rushed upon the deck, wherethe sounds of conflict had begun. There were renegades as well asIndians upon the boat, and both soon realized that the invaders werehuman beings, not spirits or ghosts. Several shots were fired. A manfrom Fort Prescott was slightly wounded in the shoulder, and the redblood was streaking his white skin. But one of the invaders had used histomahawk to terrible purpose--the figure of a warrior lay motionlessupon the deck.
As Henry sprang to the relief of his comrades he ran directly into someone. The two recoiled, but their faces were then not more than a footapart, and Henry recognized Braxton Wyatt. Wyatt knew him, too, andexclaimed: "Henry Ware!" He had been sleeping upon the boat andinstantly he raised a pistol to make an end of the one whom he hated.Henry had no time to draw tomahawk or knife, but before the triggercould be pulled he seized the renegade in the powerful clasp of his barearms.
The excitement of the moment, the imminence of the crisis, gave asuperhuman strength to the great youth. He lifted Braxton Wyatt from hisfeet, whirled him into the air, and then sent him like a stone from asling into the deep water of the Ohio. The renegade uttered a cry as hesank, but when he came up again he struggled for the shore, not for theboat. The renegade McKee had already been driven overboard, and theIndians, who alone were left on the boat, felt their superstitionreturning when they saw Braxton Wyatt tossed into the river as if by thehand of omnipotence. The flames, too, had gained great headway, and werenow roaring high above the deck and the heat was increasing fast. Ifthese were devils--and devils they certainly must be!--they had broughtwith them fire which could not be fought.
The Indians hesitated no longer, and the last of them, leapingoverboard, swam for the land.
"It's time for us to go, too," said Henry to his panting comrades."They'll get over their fright in a minute or two and be after us."
"I'm thinkin' you're right," said Seth Cole, "but nothin' kin save thisboat now. She must be an old one. She burns so fast."
Henry sprang into the river and the five followed him, swimming withtheir utmost power toward the southern shore. They heard behind them thecrackling of the flames, and a crimson light was cast upon the water.
Henry looked back over his shoulder. The boat was blazing, but the lightfrom it reached his comrades and himself. The Indians on the bank sawthem. Hasty bullets began to flick the water near them. Canoes werealready starting in chase.
"If that light keeps up, they're bound to git us," said Seth Cole.
"But it won't keep up," said Henry. "Swim, boys! Swim with all yourmight! It's not Indians alone that we've got to dodge!"
Tired as they were, they increased their speed by a supreme effort for aminute or so, and then as if by the same impulse all looked back. Theboat was a mass of flame, a huge core of light, casting a brilliantreflection far out over the river and upon the bank, where trees,bushes, and warriors alike stood out in the red flare.
The boat seemed to quiver, and suddenly it leaped into the air. Thencame a tremendous explosion and a gush of overpowering flame. Henry andhis comrades dived instantly and swam as far as they could under watertoward the eastern shore. When they came up again th
e flatboat and itsterrible cannon were gone, heavy darkness again hung over land andwater, and pieces of burning wood were falling with a hissing splashinto the river. But they heard the voices of warriors calling to eachother, organizing already for pursuit. Their expedition was a brilliantsuccess, but Henry knew that it would be a hard task to regain FortPrescott. Led by the renegades and driven on by their bitter chagrin,the Indians would swarm upon the river in their canoes, seeking for themeverywhere with eyes used to darkness.
"Are you all here, boys?" he asked. He had been scorched on the shoulderby a burning fragment, but in the excitement he did not notice it. Twoof the men were slightly wounded, but at that time they thought nothingof their hurts. All six were there, and at Henry's suggestion they divedagain, floating down stream as long as they could hold their breath.When they came up again the six heads were somewhat scattered, but Henrycalled to them softly, and they swam close together again. Then theyfloated upon their backs and held a council of war.
"It seems likely to me," said Henry, "that the Indian canoes will gostraight across the stream after us, naturally thinking that we'll makeat once for Fort Prescott."
"I'm thinkin' that you're tellin' the truth," said Seth Cole.
"Then we must drop down the stream, strike the bank, and come back up inthe brush to the place where our rifles and clothes are hid."
"Looks like the right thing to me," said Tom Wilmore. "I'll want myrifle back, but 'pears to me I'll want my clothes wuss. I'm a bashfulman, I am. Look thar! they've got torches!"
Indians standing up in the canoes were sweeping the water with pinetorches in the search for the fugitives, and Henry saw that they musthasten.
"We must make another dash for the bank," he said. "Keep your heads aslow down on the water as you can."
They swam fast, but the Indian canoes were spreading out, and one tallwarrior who held a burning pine torch in his hand uttered a shout. Hehad seen the six dots on the stream.
"Dive for it again," cried Henry, "and turn your heads toward the land!"
He knew that the Indians would fire, and as he and his comrades wentunder he heard the spatter of bullets on the water. When they rose tothe surface again they were where they could wade, and they ran towardthe bank. They reached dry land, but even in the obscurity of the nighttheir figures were outlined against the dark green bush, and thewarriors from their canoes fired again. Henry heard near him a low cry,almost suppressed at the lips, and if it had not been for the red stainon Tom Wilmore's shoulder he would not have known who had been hit.
"Is it bad, Tom?" he exclaimed.
"Not very," replied Wilmore, shutting his teeth hard. "Go on. I can keepup."
A boat suddenly shot out of the dusk very near. It contained four Indianwarriors, two with paddles and two with upraised rifles. One of therifles was aimed at Henry and the other at Seth Cole, and neither ofthem had a weapon with which to reply. Henry looked straight at themuzzle which bore upon him. It seemed to exercise a kind of terriblefascination for him, and he was quite confident that his time was athand.
He saw the warrior who knelt in the canoe with the rifle aimed at himsuddenly turn to an ashy paleness. A red spot appeared in his forehead.The rifle dropped from his hands into the water, and the Indian himself,collapsing, slipped gently over the side and into the Ohio. The secondIndian had fallen upon his back in the canoe, and only the paddlersremained.
Henry was conscious afterward that he had heard two shots, but at thetime he did not notice them. The deliverance was so sudden, soopportune, that it was miraculous, and while the frightened paddlerssent their canoe flying away from the bank, Henry and his comradesdarted into the thick bush that lined the cliff and were hidden from thesight of all who were on the river.
"Our clothes and our rifles," whispered Henry. "We must get them atonce."
"They fired from the fort just in time," said Tom Wilmore.
Henry glanced upward. The palisade was at least three hundred yardsaway.
"Those bullets did not come from Fort Prescott," he said. "It's too farfrom us, and they were fired by better marksmen than any who are upthere now."
"I think so, too," said Seth Cole, "an' I'm wonderin' who pulled themtriggers."
Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross were first in Henry's mind, but he knew thatboth had suffered wounds sufficient to keep them quiet for several days,and he believed that the timely shots were the work of other hands.Whoever the strangers might be they had certainly proved themselves thebest and most timely of friends.
They reached the thicket in which they had hidden their clothes andrifles, and found them untouched.
"Queer how much confidence clothes give to a feller!" exclaimed SethCole, as he slipped on his buckskins.
"It's so," said Henry, "and it's so, too, that you're not a whole manuntil you get back your rifle."
When he grasped the beautiful weapon which had been his prize he feltstrength flowing in a full tide in every vein. Before he was halt, acripple, but now he was a match for anybody. He heard a quick, gaspingbreath, and the sound of a soft fall.
Tom Wilmore had sunk forward, prone in the bushes. His wound in theshoulder was deeper than he had admitted. Through the thicket came thesounds of pursuit. The warriors had left the canoes and were seekingthem on land.
But the borderers had no thought of deserting their senseless comrade.Two of the men raised him up between them, and Henry, Seth Cole, and thesixth, armed with weapons of range and precision, protected the rear. Upthe slope they went toward the fort. Henry presently heard lightfootsteps among the bushes and he fired toward the sound. He did notbelieve that he could hit anything in the darkness and uncertainty, buthe wished to attract the attention of the watchers of the palisade. Thediversion was effective, as shots were fired over their heads when theycame near the wooden walls, and the pursuers drew back.
Tom Wilmore revived and demanded to be put down. It hurt his pride thathe should have to be carried. He insisted that he was not hurtseriously, and was on his feet again when they reached the palisade. Theanxious voice of Major Braithwaite hailed from the dark.
"Is it you, Ware; is it you, young sir?"
"We are here, all of us," replied Henry, and the next instant they wereat the foot of the palisade, where Major Braithwaite and at least twentymen were ready to receive them.
When they were helped over the wall the Major counted quickly:
"One! two! three! four! five! six! all here, and only two wounded! Itwas a wonderful exploit! In the name of Neptune, how did you do it?"
"We took the flatboat just as we planned," replied Henry with pardonablepride. "We set it on fire, and it blew up, also just as we planned.Those cannon are now twisted old iron lying at the bottom of the OhioRiver."
"We saw the fire and we heard the explosion," said the Major. "We knewthat your daring expedition had succeeded, but we feared that your partywould never be able to reach the fort again."
"We are here, however, thanks to the assistance of somebody," saidHenry, "and nobody is hurt badly except Tom Wilmore there."
"An' I ain't hurt so bad, neither," said Tom shame-facedly. "Things didgit kinder dark down thar, but I'm all right now, ready for what mayhappen to be needed."
A few scattering shots were fired by the Indians in the woods at thefoot of the bluff, and a few more from canoes on the river, but thegarrison did not take the trouble to reply. Henry was quite sure thatthe Indians would not remain in the brush on the cliff, as the morningwould find them, if there, in an extremely dangerous position, and,deeply content with the night's work, one of the best that he had everdone, he sought sleep in the log house which had been assigned to him.
It was a little one-roomed cabin with a bed of buffalo robes andbearskins, upon which the boy sank exhausted. He had made sure, beforewithdrawing, that Tom Wilmore was receiving the proper attention, andhence he had little upon his mind now. He could enjoy their triumph inits full measure, and he ran back rapidly over incidents of their daringtrip. Ever
ything was almost as vivid as if it were occurring again, andhe could account for detail after detail in its logical sequence untilhe came to the two gunshots that had saved them. Who had fired thebullets? In any event, it was evident that they had effective friendsoutside the walls, and while he was still wondering about them he fellasleep.
The siege the next day was desultory. There were occasional shots fromthe forest and the river, but the far-reaching cannon were gone, and thegarrison paid little attention to rifle bullets that fell short.Moreover, they were all--men, women and children--full of courage. Theexploit of the six in blowing up the flatboat and sending the cannon tothe bottom of the river seemed to them a proof that they could doanything and defeat any attempt upon Fort Prescott.
But Henry and Major Braithwaite in the cupola of the blockhouse oncemore looked southward over the surface of the Ohio and wondered why thefleet did not come. Henry, with the coming of the day, felt newmisgivings. The Indians, with the whole forest to feed them and freedomto go and come as they pleased--vast advantages--would persist in thesiege. Timmendiquas would keep them to it, and he might also be holdingback the fleet. White Lightning was a general and he would use hisforces to the best advantage. After a last vain look through the glassesdown the river, he took another resolve.
"I'm going out again to-night, Major," he said. "I'm going to hasten thefleet."
"We can ill spare you, my lad," said the Major, putting an affectionatehand upon his shoulder, "but perhaps it is best that you should go. Yousaved us once, and it may be that you will save us twice. I'll not sayanything about your going to the people in general. They think you bringgood fortune, and it might discourage them to know that you are gone."
* * * * *
It was night, and only Major Braithwaite and Seth Cole saw Henry leaveFort Prescott.
"I'll be back in a few days, Major," said the boy, "and I'll bringhelp."
"You've given us great help already, young sir," said Major Braithwaite."How, in the name of Neptune, we can ever thank you sufficiently, Idon't know."
"I'm thinkin' we do owe you a lot," said Seth Cole tersely.
The boy smiled in the dark as he shook their hands. He was not foolishto conceal from himself that he liked their praise, but he tried todisclaim credit.
"I was merely a little luckier than my comrades," he said, "but don'tyou let them surprise you, Major. Keep a good watch. Since those cannonwere blown up and sunk, you can hold them."
"We'll do it or, in the name of Neptune, we'll die trying," said MajorBraithwaite.
"I'm thinkin' we kin do it," said Seth Cole.
Then Henry was over the palisade and gone, slipping away so quietly thatMajor Braithwaite was startled. The boy was there, and then he wasn't.
Henry dropped over the wall on the side next to the river, which he knewto be the safest way of departure because the least guarded. Twenty orthirty yards from the fort he lay among the bushes and listened. He wasfull of confidence and eager for his task. Rest and sleep had restoredall his strength. He had his fine rifle, a renewed supply of ammunition,and had no fear of either the wilderness or the darkness.
He crept down through the bushes much nearer to the bank, and he saw ahalf dozen Indian canoes moving slowly up and down the river not farfrom the shore. They were patrols. The warriors did not intend to besurprised by another dash from the fort. Henry indulged himself insilent laughter. His comrades and he had certainly put a spoke in thesavage wheel.
He watched the boats a few moments and in one of them he saw two whitefaces that he recognized. They belonged to Braxton Wyatt andBlackstaffe. Again Henry laughed silently. He remembered the look onBraxton Wyatt's face when he threw him into the Ohio. But Wyatt deservedmuch more than to be hurled into muddy water, and the villain,Blackstaffe, was worse because he was older, knew more, and had donemore crime. Henry raised his rifle a little. From the point where he layhe might reach Blackstaffe with a bullet, but he could not do it. Hecould not shoot a man from ambush.
He moved carefully along the side of the cliff down the river. It wassteep footing, but it would be perhaps impossible to pass anywhere else,and he proceeded with slowness, lest he set a pebble rolling or make thebushes rattle. He reached the place where they had scrambled ashoreafter burning the flatboat and he paused there a moment. His mindreturned to the two mysterious shots that had saved them. Could he havebeen mistaken in his surmise, and could it have been Shif'less Sol andTom Ross or perhaps Long Jim who had fired the timely bullets?
He was not one to spend his time in guesses that could not be answered,and he resumed his advance, increasing his speed as the cliff becameless precipitous. It was an average night, not a black protecting one,and he knew that he must practice great caution. He intended whenfurther down to swim the river, but it was not yet safe to exposehimself there, and he clung to the southern bank.
He soon had proof that all his caution was needed. He heard a softfootstep and quietly sank down in the bushes. A Miami sentinel passedwithin twenty feet of him, and the boy did not rise again until he wasout of sight. Twenty yards further he saw another, and then the glow oflights came through the trees. He knew it to be an Indian camp fire,although the warriors themselves were hidden from him by a swell of theearth. But he felt an intense desire to see this fire, or rather thoseabout it. It was a legitimate wish, as any information that he mightobtain would be valuable for the return--and he intended to return.
He crept to a point near the crest of the swell, and then he lay veryclose, glad that the bushes there were so thick and that they hid him sowell. Six men were coming and he recognized them. Two were white, Girtyand Blackstaffe, and there were Yellow Panther, Red Eagle, Captain Pipe,the Delaware, and White Lightning, the great Timmendiquas of theWyandots. They were talking in the Shawnee tongue, which he understoodwell, and despite all his experience and self-control, a tremor shookhim.
They stopped near him and continued their conversation. Every word thatthey said reached the listener in the bush.
"The place was warned, as Ware said. There's no doubt of it," said Girtyviciously, nodding toward the hill on which stood Fort Prescott. "Hisboast was true. Braxton Wyatt knows him. He was tossed by him intotwenty feet of the Ohio. It must have been worth seeing."
Girty laughed. He could take a malignant pleasure in the misfortune ofan ally. Henry also saw the white teeth of Timmendiquas gleam as hislips curved into a smile. But in him the appeal was to a sense of humor,not to venom. He seemed to have little malice in his nature.
"It is so," said Timmendiquas in Shawnee. "It was certainly the onecalled Ware, a bold youth, and powerful. It was wonderful the way inwhich he broke through our lines at the running of the gantlet andescaped. He must be a favorite of Manitou."
"Favorite of Manitou! It was his arms and legs that got him away,"snarled Girty.
His tone was insolent, domineering, and the dark eyes of Timmendiquaswere turned upon him.
"I said he was a favorite of Manitou," he said, and his words were edgedwith steel. "Our friend, Girty, thinks so, too."
His hand slipped down toward the handle of his tomahawk, but it was theeye more than the hand that made the soul of Girty quail.
"It must be as you say, Timmendiquas," he replied, smoothly. "He surelyseemed to have been helped by some great power, but it's been a badthing for us. If he hadn't come, we could have taken Fort Prescott withour first rush. Then with our cannon on the hill we could have stoppedthis fleet which is coming."
"I have heard that in the far South this fleet beat another fleet whichhad cannon," said Timmendiquas.
"Yes," said Girty. "Braxton Wyatt was there and saw it done. Red men andwhite were allied, and they had a ship of their own, but it was blown upin the battle. But here our cannon would have been on a hill. It is along way to Canada and we cannot send there for more."
"We can win without cannon," said White Lightning with dignity. "Do youthink that all the nations and all the chiefs of the gre
at valley areassembling here merely for failure? Have we not already held back thewhite man's fleet?"
"We've certainly held it for a few days," replied Girty, "but we've nottaken Fort Prescott."
"We will take it," said Timmendiquas.
Henry listened with the greatest eagerness. He did not wish to miss aword. Now he understood why the fleet had not come. It had been delayedin some manner, probably by rifle fire at narrow portions of the river,and it would be the tactics of Timmendiquas to beat it and the fortseparately. It would be his task to bring them together and defeatTimmendiquas instead. Yet he felt all his old admiration and liking forthe great young chief of the Wyandots. The other chiefs were no meanfigures, but he towered above them all, and he had the look of a king, aking by nature, not by birth.
Henry hoped that they would stay and talk longer, that he might hearmore of their plans, but they walked away toward the camp fire, where hecould not follow, and, rising from the bushes, he passed swiftly betweenthe fire and the river, pursuing his journey down stream. He saw twomore Indian sentinels, but they did not see him, and when he looked backthe flare of the camp fire was gone.
Two miles below the fort the river curved. No watching canoe would belikely to be there, and Henry thought it would be a good place to swimthe river. He was about to prepare himself for his task, when by themoonlight, which was now clear, he saw the print of footsteps in thesoft earth near the shore. There was a trail evidently made by two men.It ran over the soft earth twenty feet, perhaps, and was then lost amongthe bushes.
He examined the footsteps carefully and he was sure that they were madeby white men and within the hour. He crouched among the bushes anduttered a faint, whining cry like the suppressed howl of a wolf. It wasa cry literally sent into the dark, but he took the chance. A similarcry came back from a point not very far away, and he moved toward it. Heheard a light rustle among the bushes and leaves and he stopped, lyingdown in order that he might be hidden and, at the same time, watch.
Henry was quite convinced that those who made the footprints had alsomade the noise, and he was still sure that they were white men. Theymight be renegades, but he did not think so. Renegades were few innumber, and they were likely at such a time to stay closely in theIndian camp. He was puzzled for a little while how to act. He mightstalk these strangers and they might stalk him in the darkness for hourswithout either side ascertaining a single fact concerning the identityof the other. He decided upon a bold policy and called loudly: "Who isthere?"
His was unmistakably a white voice, the voice of a white Anglo-Saxon,and back came the reply in the same good English of the white man: "Whoare you?"
"A friend from the Kentucky settlements," replied Henry, and stood up.Two figures, also, rose from the brush, and after a few moments'inspection advanced.
Henry could scarcely restrain a cry of pleasure as he recognized themen. They were Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton. Boone laughed in hisquiet, low way as they came forward.
"About to take another night swim in the Ohio, Indians or no Indians?"he said.
Henry understood at once. It was these two who had saved them; thetimely bullets had come from the rifles of these famous borderers.
"We owe our lives to you and Mr. Kenton, Mr. Boone," he said, graspingthe hand that Daniel Boone held out to him.
Boone laughed again in his quiet fashion. No sound came from his lips,but his face quivered with mirth.
"You certainly were a good swimmer," he said. "I never saw a fellow walkthrough the water faster in my life."
"We had every reason to swim fast," said Henry with a smile.
"Don't say anything more about our savin' you," said Daniel Boone. "It'swhat anybody else in our place ought to have done an' would have done.We've been hangin' around the fort havin' worned another place first,waitin' for a chance to help. Some hunters are comin' up from the Southand we expect to join them to-morrow, but we won't be strong enough todo much."
"All the tribes are here, are they not?" asked Henry.
"Bands from 'em all are here. They must have two or three thousandwarriors scattered around Fort Prescott. I reckon I can tell you wheremost of the big bands are placed."
The three sat down on the ground and talked low. Henry felt greatlyencouraged by the presence of these two men, so skillful and sorenowned. Watchful sentinels, but little could evade them, and theywould be a source of valuable strength to fort and fleet alike.
"You saw Timmendiquas?" said Boone.
"Yes, he is here," said Henry, "and he is leading the attack."
"Then our people have got to look out," said Boone emphatically. "We'llwatch around here the best way we can while you go on with what you'retryin' to do."
He held out his hand again as Henry rose to depart. For a man who liveda life of constant danger and who had passed through so many greatadventures, he had a singularly gentle and winning manner. Henry'sadmiration and respect were mingled with a deep liking. He would havereferred again to the saving of his life, but he knew that the greatborderer would not like it.
"Good-by, Mr. Boone," he said, and their hands met in a hearty clasp. Heand Kenton also bade farewell in the same friendly manner, and thenHenry went down to the river.
"We'll watch again," said Boone, laughing in his dry way; "you can'ttell when you'll need us."