CHAPTER XXI
FORCES MEET
Major George Augustus Braithwaite had judged aright. Henry Ware knelt inthe prow of the first boat, as it showed beyond the curve after forcingthe watery pass. The shiftless one knelt just behind him, and in thestern was Paul, kneeling, too. The rifles of all three were hot in theirhands. Long Jim and Silent Tom were now at the oars.
It all seemed--that last half hour--a dream to Henry and Paul. They hadmoved in a kind of mist, now red, now black. They had seen the blackhills lowering above them, and the innumerable flashes of fire. They hadheard the roar of the tempest and the unbroken crackle of hundreds ofrifles, and they had fired in reply almost mechanically. Their oneobject was to press forward, always to press forward, and so long astheir boat continued to move they knew that they must be succeeding.
Now they beheld the wider water before them, and upon a high hill uponthe southern shore a great fire blazed, by the light of which they sawwooden walls and roofs.
"We are through!" exclaimed Henry. "We have at least come as far as thefort, whether we can land or not!"
"Yes, we are through," said the shiftless one, "but I never run such agantlet afore, an' I hope never to do it ag'in."
He laid down his rifle a moment, and began to feel himself criticallyand carefully.
"What are you doing?" asked Henry.
"Me?" replied Sol. "I'm tryin' to see whether I'm all here, or whethermost o' me is scattered around in the Ohio. When a million savages areshootin' at a feller, all at the same time, an' keep on doin' it, it'smore'n likely that feller will soon be in pieces. No, I ain't hurt. Someo' my huntin' shirt hez been shot away, but the body o' Sol Hyde issound an' whole, fur which I do give thanks. How are you, Henry?"
"All right. I've been grazed twice but there's no damage."
"An' you, Paul?"
"Nicked on the wrist and scared to death, but nothing more."
"An' you, Tom?"
"Nigh deef, I guess, from sech a racket, but I'm still fit fur work."
"An' you, you onery old Long Jim."
"Mighty tired, an' hungry, too, I guess, though I don't know it, but Ikin still shoot, an' I kin hit somethin' too."
"Then we've come through better than we could hev hoped," said theshiftless one joyfully. "'Pears again that Paul was right when he saiddown thar on the Missip that Providence had chose us fur a task."
"The battle is not over yet," said Henry. "If we help the fort we've gotto make a landing, or the Indians can go on with the siege almost as ifwe were not here. And landing in face of the horde is no easy task."
"Ain't it likely that the people in the fort will help us?" saidShif'less Sol.
"If I know Major Braithwaite, and I think I do," replied Henry, "theywill surely help. It was a good thing on their part to build thatbonfire as a signal and to show us the way. See how it grows!"
The fire, already great, was obviously rising higher, and its lightdeepened over the river. The whole fleet was now through the pass, andit swung for a few moments in the middle of the stream like a great birdhovering before it decided on its flight. The light from the bonfirefell upon it and tinged it red. Although the savage attack had notceased, and some of the white men were still firing, most of them layfor a little while at rest to take fresh breath and strength for thelanding. Henry looked back at them, and spontaneously some scene fromthe old Homeric battles that Paul told about came to his mind. He knewthese men as they lay panting against the sides of the boats, the lightfrom the bonfire tinting their faces to crimson hues. This gallantfellow was Hector, and that was Achilles, it was Ajax who sat in theprow there, and the wiry old fellow behind him, with the wary eyes, waseven the cunning Ulysses himself.
It was but a fleeting fancy, gone when Adam Colfax hailed them from thedeck of the _Independence_. The eyes of the Puritan still burned withzealous fire, and those of Drouillard beside him showed the same spirit.
"What do you think of the landing?" he said to the five collectively."Can we force it now? What do you think?"
"I think we can," Henry replied for them all, "if the people in the forthelp--and listen to that! They are helping now!"
There was a sudden spurt of firing from the undergrowth on the southernbank. Nor was it fitful. It continued rapid and heavy, and they knewthat a diversion of some kind had been created. It must be due to themen from the fort, and now was the time to make the landing.
Adam Colfax stood upright on the deck of the _Independence_ at the riskof sharpshooter's bullet, and looked eagerly along the Kentucky shore,seeking some low place into which his boats could push their prows. Hiswas a practiced mariner's eye, and he saw it at last, a cove which wasthe ending of the ravine in the high bank, and he said a few words tohis trumpeter. The silver peal rose once more, mellow, clear, andreaching far, and the tired men rose, as usual, to its call. Steadyhands held the rifles, and strong arms bent the oars.
The _Independence_ and the boat of the five swung in toward the cove,and the whole fleet followed hard at their heels.
The savages uttered a great cry when they saw the movement, and swarmedanew for the attack, firing rapidly from the forest, while their canoespushed boldly out from the northern shore. But Henry judged that theviolence of the attack was less than when they had been in the pass, andhe inferred that a considerable part of their force was drawn off by thediversion from the woods. He could mark by the rapid blaze of the riflesin the forest the place where this contest was being waged with theutmost courage and tenacity. His attentive ear noticed a sudden greatincrease in the firing there, and it all seemed to come from one point.
"Somebody has been reinforced, and heavily, at that," he said toShif'less Sol.
"It's shorely so," said the shiftless one.
A faint sound, nay, hardly more than an echo, came to their ears. But itwas the echo of a deep, full-throated cry, the cry that white men give.
"It's friends," murmured Henry. "I don't know who they are, but they arefriends."
"It's shorely so," said the shiftless one.
Their boat and the _Independence_ were now not thirty feet from theland, and in a few more moments they struck upon the shelving margin.The five instantly leaped ashore, and after them came the men of thefleet in a torrent. Now they heard that full-throated cheer again, loud,clear, and near. A powerful friend was at hand, and Adam Colfax,Drouillard ever at his side, understood it.
"Forward, men!" he cried in his highest voice. "Clear the red swarm fromthe bushes!"
With four score brave riflemen he charged through the forest, sweepingaway what was left, at that point of the horde, and, as the warriorsvanished before them, they met in an open space two other forces, onecoming from the east, and the other from the south.
Adam Colfax, the brave Drouillard still at his side, stopped and stoodalmost face to face with a tall, middle-aged man who wore a uniform andon whose head rested a cocked hat from which the rain had long beenpouring in three streams, one at each corner. The man's face bore signsof physical exhaustion, but his spirit showed triumphant. Behind himwere about thirty men who leaned panting upon their rifles.
The eyes of Adam Colfax shifted to the second force, the one that hadcome from the south, the leader of which stood very near, also almostface to face when he turned. The second leader was even more remarkablethan the first. Hardly in middle age, and with a figure of uncommonlitheness and power, he had a face of extraordinary sweetness andrepose. Even now, fresh from the dangers and excitement of deadlyconflict, it showed no excitement. The mild eyes gazed placidly at AdamColfax, and his hands rested unmoving upon the muzzle of his rifle. Hewas clothed wholly in deerskin, with the usual cap of raccoon skin. Bythe side of him stood a young man clothed in similar fashion. But hisstrong face showed all the signs of passion and battle fire. Hisdeep-set eyes fairly flashed. Behind these two were about thirty men,mostly young, every one of them brown as an Indian and in wild garb,true sons of the wilderness.
Henry Ware quickly stepped forwar
d. He alone knew them all.
"Mr. Colfax," he said, nodding toward the head of the first column,"this is Major Braithwaite, the commander of Fort Prescott, and this--"
He turned and paused a moment as he faced the leader of the second band,him with the peaceful eyes. He felt that he was calling the name of agreat man, a fit match for any Hector or Achilles that ever lived.
"This is Daniel Boone," he said to Mr. Colfax, "and this, Mr. Boone, isAdam Colfax, the commander of the fleet that has come from New Orleanson its way to Pittsburgh."
"Daniel Boone!" exclaimed Adam Colfax, and stepping forward he took thehand of the great hunter, explorer, and wilderness fighter. It was animpulse which did not seem strange to him that he should leave MajorBraithwaite for second place, and it seemed natural, also, to the Major,who did not know until then the name of the man who had come soopportunely with his friends to his relief.
"I knew Fort Prescott was pushed hard and would be pushed harder," saidDaniel Boone, smiling gently after he had shaken hands with Adam Colfaxand Major Braithwaite, "so me an' Simon--this is Simon Kenton--hurriedsouth after some of our friends, hunters an' sech like, an' it 'pearsthat we've got back in time."
"You certainly have," said Major Braithwaite with deep emphasis. "Neverwas help more opportune."
"It was a good fight!" exclaimed Simon Kenton, the battle fire not yetdead in his eyes.
Daniel Boone smiled again, that extraordinary smile of sweetness andpeace.
"But the one that really brought us all together at the right minute,"he said, "was a boy, though he is a mighty big and strong one, and hestands here right now."
He put his hand upon Henry Ware's shoulder, and Henry blushed under histan in embarrassment.
"No, no!" he cried. "It was everybody working together, and I'm just oneof the crowd."
He retreated hastily behind his comrades, and Daniel Boone laughed.
"Don't you think that we'd better go into the fort now, Mr. Boone?"asked Adam Colfax with deference.
"Yes, as soon as we can," replied Daniel Boone, "but we ought to keep astrong line down to the fleet. We can do it with a chain of men. We arenot out of the woods yet. We might be, if a common man led the Indians,but Timmendiquas, Timmendiquas the Great, the White Lightning of theWyandots, is out there, and he does not know what it is to be beat."
"He surely must be a mighty chief," said Major Braithwaite--the way inwhich everybody spoke of Timmendiquas impressed him. "But come, we willenter the fort."
He led the way, and the triple force, now united, followed close behind.Paul's eyes were chiefly for the hunters who had come with Boone andKenton, and he read their minds--they did not regard what they weredoing as an act of benevolence, one for which they could claim a greatreward; they were doing, instead, what they loved to do, and they weregrateful for the chance. It was the wildest looking band of white menthat he had ever seen, but it was worth a regiment to the fort.
The gate was thrown open again, and the three forces passed in, there toreceive the welcome that is given only by those who have been saved fromwhat looked like certain death. The scout and the others who knew himgave Henry Ware the hearty clasp of the hand that means so much, andthen the five went to a cabin to eat, rest and sleep.
"We'll need you to-morrow," said Adam Colfax, "but meanwhile you mustrefresh yourselves."
"That sounds mighty good to a tired man," said Shif'less Sol in hiswhimsical tone. "I never worked so hard in my life before ez I hevlately, an' I think I need to rest for the next three or four years."
"But we got through, Sol, we got through, don't furgit that," said LongJim. "I'd rather cook than fight. Uv course, I'm always anxious aboutthe vittles, but I ain't plum' skeered to death over 'em."
"Reminds me I'm hungry," said Shif'less Sol. "Like you, Jim, I furgotabout it when I wuz down thar on the river, fightin', but I'm beginnin'to feel it now. Wonder ef they'll give us anything."
Sol's wish was fulfilled as a woman brought them abundant food, cornbread, venison, buffalo meat, and coffee. When it came they sat down inthe home-made chairs of the cabin, and all of them uttered great sighsof relief, drawn up from the bottom of their hearts.
"I'm goin' to eat fur two or three hours," said the shiftless one,fastening an eager eye upon a splendid buffalo steak, "an' then I'mgoin' to sleep on them robes over thar. Ef anybody wakes me up beforethe last uv next week he'll hev a mighty good man to whip, I kin tellyou."
Eager hand followed eager eye. He lifted the steak and set to, and hisfour faithful comrades did the same. They ate, also, of the venison andthe corn bread with the appetite that only immense exertions give, andthey drank with tin cups from a bucket of clear cold water. There wassilence for a quarter of an hour, and then Shif'less Sol was the firstto break it.
"I didn't think I could ever be so happy ag'in," he said in tones ofgreat content.
"Nor me, either," said Jim Hart, uttering a long, happy sigh. "I declar'to goodness, I'm a new man, plum' made over from the top uv my head tothe heels an' toes uv my feet."
"And that's a good deal of a man, six feet four, at least," said Paul.
"It's true," repeated Long Jim. "I'm like one uv them thar Greekdemigods Paul tells about. Now an' then I change myself into a newfigger, each more bee-yu-ti-ful than the last. Ain't that so, Sol? Youknow it's the truth."
"You could become more bee-yu-ti-ful a heap o' times an' then be nothin'to brag about," retorted the shiftless one.
"Now let's all go to sleep," said Henry. "It must be past midnight, andyou may be sure that there will be plenty of work for us to doto-morrow."
"'Nough said," said Tom Ross. He threw himself upon one of the couchesof skins and in three minutes was fast asleep. Sol, Jim, and Paulquickly followed him, and the long, peaceful breathing of the four wasthe only sound in the room.
Henry looked down at his comrades, and his heart was full of gladness.It seemed wonderful that they had all come with their lives through somany dangers, and silently he returned thanks to the white man's God andthe red man's Manitou, who were the same to him.
There was a single window to the cabin, without glass, but closed, whennecessary, with a wooden shutter. The shutter was propped back a foot ormore now in order to admit air, and Henry looked out. The lightning hadceased to flash, save for a feeble quiver now and then on the farhorizon, and it had grown somewhat lighter. But the rain still fell,though gently, with a steady, soft, insistent drip, drip that wasmusical and conducive to sleep.
Henry saw the dusky outline of buildings and several figures passingback and forth, guns on shoulders. These were riflemen, and he knew thatmore were at the wooden walls keeping vigilant guard. Once again he wasfilled with wonder that he and his comrades should have come so far andthrough so much, and yet be safe and whole.
There was no sound save an occasional light footstep or the clank of arifle barrel against metal to break the musical beat of the rain. Allthe firing had ceased, and the wind moaned no longer. Henry let thefresh air play for a while on his face, and then he, too, turned back toa couch of skins. Sleep, heavy, but not dreamless, came soon.
Henry's dream was not a bad one. On the contrary, it was full of cheerand good omen. He lay in the forest, the forest, dry, warm, green, andbeautiful, and an unknown voice over his head sang a splendid song inhis ears that, note by note, penetrated every fiber of his being andfilled him with the most glorious visions. It told him to go on, thatall things could be conquered by those who do not fear to try. It wasthe same song among the leaves that he had heard in his waking hours,but now it was louder and fuller, and it spoke with a clearer voice.
The boy turned on his buffalo robe. There was no light in the cabin now,but his face in the darkness was like that of one inspired. He awokepresently. The voice was gone, but he could still hear it, like a farsweet echo, and, although he knew it to be a dream, he considered it tobe fact, nevertheless. Something had spoken to him while he slept, and,confident of the future, he fell into another sleep, thi
s time withoutdreams.
When Henry awoke the next morning Daniel Boone sat by his couch. Hiscomrades awakened, too, one after another, and as they sat up, Boone,out of the great goodness of his soul, smiled upon them.
"You are woodsmen, fine woodsmen, all of you," he said, "an' I want totalk with you. Do you think the great chief, Timmendiquas, will drawoff?"
"Not he!" exclaimed Henry. "He is far from beaten."
"An' that's what I say, too," repeated Boone in his gentle voice. "AdamColfax and Major Braithwaite think that he has had enough, but I'mwarnin' them to be careful. If the warriors could crush the fleet an'the fort together they'd strike a terrible blow against thesettlements."
"There is no doubt of it," said Henry. "Timmendiquas, so long as he hasa powerful army of the tribes, will never give up such a chance."
"Mr. Colfax thinks they've suffered so much," continued Boone, "thatthey will retreat into the far north. I know better. Simon Kenton knowsbetter, and we want you and one or two of your comrades to go out withus and prove that the warriors are still in a circle about the fort an'the fleet alike."
"I'm your man for one," said Henry. All the others promptly volunteered,also, but it was arranged that Paul and Long Jim should stay behind tohelp the garrison, while Henry, Shif'less Sol, and Tom Ross should gowith Boone and Kenton. But it was agreed, also, that they should not goforth until night, when the darkness would favor their forest inquiries.
The five had slept very late, and it was past ten o'clock when they wentout into the large, open space that lay between the houses and thepalisade. All signs of the storm were gone. The forest might give proofof its passage, but here it was as if it had never been. A gentle windblew, and the boughs moved softly and peacefully before it. The sky, adeep blue, showed not a single cloud, and the river flowed a stream ofquivering molten gold. The fleet was drawn up in a long line along thesouthern bank, and it, too, was at rest. No sweep or paddle stirred, andthe men slept or lounged on the decks. Nowhere was an enemy visible. Allthe storm and strife of the night before had vanished. It seemed, in theface of this peaceful wind and golden sun, that such things could notbe. Adam Colfax and Major Braithwaite might well cling to their beliefthat the warriors, beaten and disheartened, had gone. The women andchildren shared in this conviction, and the afternoon was a joyous onein Fort Prescott, but when the night had fully come, Boone and Kenton,with Henry, Tom Ross and the shiftless one, went forth to prove a thingthat they did not wish to prove, that is, that the Indians were still athand.
They went first in a southwesterly direction, and they saw many signs ofthe savages, that is, that they had been there, but these signs alsoindicated that now they were gone. They curved about toward thenorthwest, and the result was the same, and then, for the sake ofcertainty, they came back again toward the southwest. Assured now thatthe southern woods contained no Indians anywhere near the fort, theystopped in the bushes near the bank of the river and held a littlecouncil.
"It 'pears to me that it's turned out just about as all of us thought itwould," said Daniel Boone.
"It's so," said Simon Kenton, "but we had to look first an' be sure."
"That is, we all believe that the Indians have gathered on the northernbank," said Henry, "and under the lead of Timmendiquas are planning agrand attack upon us."
"It's so," said Shif'less Sol.
Tom Ross nodded.
"That bein' so," said Daniel Boone, "we must cross an' take a look atthem."
All the others nodded. Everyone was anxious for the perilous task.
"We can swim the river," said Henry, "and, also, we can borrow a smallboat from the fleet."
"I wouldn't borrow a boat," said Daniel Boone. "The fewer that knowabout us the better, even the fewer of our friends. It 'pears to me thatif we were to stroll down stream a little we might find a canoe thatsomebody had left there for a time of need."
Henry smiled. He felt sure that the canoe would be found. But he and theothers, without another word, followed Boone for a distance until theycame to a point where the banks were low. Then Boone forced his waynoiselessly into a patch of bushes that grew at the very water's edge,and Simon Kenton followed him. The two reappeared in a minute, carryinga spacious canoe of birch bark.
"Simon an' me took this," explained Boone, "before we went south for ourfriends, an' we hid it here, knowin' that we'd have a use for it sometime or other. We'll crowd it, but it'll hold us all."
They put the canoe upon the water, and the five got in. Boone and Kentonlifted the paddles, but Tom Ross at once reached over and took thepaddle from the hand of Daniel Boone.
"It shan't ever be told uv me," he said, "that I set still in a boat,while Dan'l Boone paddled me across the Ohio."
"An' yet I think I can paddle pretty well," said Daniel Boone in agentle, whimsical tone.
"'Nuff said," said Tom Ross, as he gave the paddle a mighty sweep thatsent the canoe shooting far out into the river. Boone smiled again inhis winning way, but said nothing. Kenton, also, swung the paddle with amighty wrist and arm, and in a few moments they were in the middle ofthe river. Here the light was greatest, and the two paddlers did notcease their efforts until they were well under the shelter of thenorthern bank, where the darkness lay thick and heavy again.
Here they stopped and examined river, forest, and shores. The fleet atthe southern margin blended with the darkness, but they could dimly see,high upon the cliff, the walls of the fort, and also a few lights thattwinkled in the blockhouse or the upper stories of cabins.
"They're at peace and happy there now," said Daniel Boone. "It's a pitythey can't stay so."
He spoke with so much kindly sympathy that Henry once more regarded thisextraordinary man with uncommon interest. Explorer, wilderness fighter,man of a myriad perils, he was yet as gentle in voice and manner as awoman. But Henry understood him. He knew that like nature itself he wasat once serene and strong. He, too, had felt the spell.
"They won't be troubled there to-night," continued Boone. "The Indianswill not be ready for a new attack, unless it's merely skirmishing, an'Adam Colfax and Major Braithwaite will keep a good guard against them.Now which way, Simon, do you think the camp of the Indians will be?"
Kenton pointed toward the northeast, a silent but significant gesture.
"There's a little prairie over there about two miles back from theriver," he said. "It's sheltered, but safe from ambush, an' it's justthe place that Timmendiquas would naturally choose."
"Then," said Boone, "that's the place we'll go to. Now, boys, we'll hideour canoe here among the bushes, 'cause we're likely to need it again.We may come back mighty fast, an' it might be the very thing that wewanted most at that partickler time."
He laughed, and the others laughed, too. The canoe was well hidden amongthe bushes, and then the five borderers disappeared in the forest.