True to the Old Flag: A Tale of the American War of Independence by G. A. Henty (kiss me liar novel english .TXT) 📕

The color had somewhat left Mr. Welch's cheeks as the hunter spoke.

"This is bad news, indeed, Pearson," he said gravely. "Are you sure about the attack on the Brents?"

"Sartin sure," the hunter said. "I met their herder; he had been down to Johnson's to fetch a barrel of pork. Just when he got back he heard the Injun yells and saw smoke rising in the clearing, so he dropped the barrel and made tracks. I met him at Johnson's, where he had just arrived. Johnson was packing up with all haste and was going to leave, and so I said I would take my canoe and come down the lake, giving you all warning on the way. I stopped at Burns' and Hooper's. Burns said he should clear out at once, but Hooper talked about seeing it through. He's got no wife to be skeary about, and reckoned that, with his two hands, he could defend his log hut. I told him I reckoned he would get his har raised if the Injuns came that way; but, in course, that's his business."

"What do you advise, Pearson? I do not like abandoning this farm to the mercy of the redskins."

"It would be a pity, Master Welch, that's as true as Gospel. It's the likeliest clearing within fifty miles round, and you've fixed the place up as snug and comfortable as if it were a farm in the old provinces. In course the question is what this War Eagle intends to do. His section of the tribe is pretty considerable strong, and although at present I aint heard that any others have joined, these Injuns are like barrels of gunpowder: when the spark is once struck there's no saying how far the explosion may spread. When one band of 'em sees as how another is taking scalps and getting plunder and honor, they all want to be at the same work. I reckon War Eagle has got some two hundred braves who will follow him; but when the news spreads that he has begun his work, all the Iroquois, to say nothing of the Shawnees, Delawares, and other varmint, may dig up the hatchet. The question is what War Eagle's intentions are. He may make a clean sweep down, attacking all the outlying farms and waiting till he is joined by a lot more of the red reptiles before attacking the settlements. Then, on the other hand, he may think himself strong enough to strike a blow at Gloucester and some other border villages at once. In that case he might leave the outlying farms alone, as the news of the burning of these would reach the settlements and put 'em on their guard, and he knows, in course, that if he succeeds there he can eat you all up at his leisure."

"The attack upon Brent's place looks as if he meant to make a clean sweep down," Mr. Welch said.

"Well," the hunter continued thoughtfully, "I don't know as I sees it in that light. Brent's place was a long way from any other. He might have wished to give his band a taste of blood, and so raise their spirits, and he might reasonably conclude that naught would be known about it for days, perhaps weeks to come. Then, again, the attack might have been made by some straggling party without orders. It's a dubious question. You've got four hands here, I think, and yourself. I have seen your wife shoot pretty straight with a rifle, so she can count as one, and as this young un, here, has a good idea, too, with his shooting-iron, that makes six guns. Your place is a strong one, and you could beat off any straggling party. My idea is that War Eagle, who knows pretty well that the place would make a stout fight, won't waste his time by making a regular attack upon it. You might hold out for twenty-four hours; the clearing is open and there aint no shelter to be had. He would be safe to lose a sight of men, and this would be a bad beginning, and would discourage his warriors greatly. No, I reckon War Eagle will leave you alone for the present. Maybe he will send a scout to see whether you are prepared; it's as likely as not that one is spying at us somewhere among the trees now. I should lose no time in driving in the animals and getting well in shelter. When they see you are prepared they will leave you alone; at least, for the present. Afterward there's no saying—that will depend on how they get on at the settlements. If they succeed there and get lots of booty and plenty of scalps, they may march back without touching you; they will be in a hurry to get to their villages and have their feasts and dancing. If they are beaten off at the settlements I reckon they will pay you a visit for sure; they won't go back without scalps. They will be savage like, and won't mind losing some men for the sake of having something to brag about when they get back. And now, Master Welch, I must be going on, for I want to take the news down to the settlements before War Eagle gets there, and he may be ahead of me now, for aught I know. I don't give you no advice as to what you had best do; you can judge the circumstances as well as I can. When I have been to the settlements and put them on their guard, maybe I shall be coming back again, and, in that case, you know Jack Pearson's rifle is at your disposal. You may as well tote this stag up to the house. You won't be doing much hunting just for the present, and the meat may come in handy."

The stag was landed, and a minute later the canoe shot away from shore under the steady stroke of the hunter's powerful arms. Mr. Welch at once threw the stag over his shoulders and, accompanied by Harold, strode away toward the house. On reaching it he threw down the stag at the door, seized a rope which hung against the wall, and the sounds of a large bell, rung in quick, sharp strokes, summoned the hands from the fields. The sound of the woodman's ax ceased at once, and the shouts of the men, as they drove the cattle toward the house, rose on the still air.

"What is the matter, William?" Mrs. Welch asked as she ran from the house.

"I have bad news, my dear. The Indians are out again, and I fear we may have trouble before us. We must hope that they will not come in this direction, but must be prepared for the worst. Wait till I see all the hands and beasts in the stockade, and then we can talk the matter over quietly."

In a few minutes the hands arrived, driving before them the horses and cattle.

"What is it, boss?" they asked. "Was that the alarm bell sure enough?"

"The Indians are out again," Mr. Welch said, "and in force. They have massacred the Brents and are making toward the settlements. They may come this way or they may not; at any rate, we must be prepared for them. Get the beasts into the sheds, and then do you all take scythes and set to work to cut down that patch of corn, which is high enough to give them shelter; there's nothing else which will cover them within a hundred yards of the house. Of course you will take your rifles with you and keep a sharp lookout; but they will have heard the bell, if they are in the neighborhood, and will guess that we are on the alert, so they are not likely to attempt a surprise. Shut one of the gates and leave the other ajar, with the bar handy to put up in case you have to make a run for it. Harold will go up to the lookout while you are at work."

Having seen that all was attended to, Mr. Welch went into the house, where his wife was going about her work as usual, pale, but quiet and resolute.

"Now, Jane," he said, "sit down, and I will tell you exactly how matters stand, as far as Pearson, who brought the news, has told me. Then you shall decide as to the course we had better take."

After he had told her all that Pearson had said, and the reasons for and against expecting an early attack, he went on:

"Now, it remains for you, my dear, to decide whether we shall stay and defend the place till the last against any attack that may be made, or whether we shall at once embark in the scow and make our way down to the settlements."

"What do you think, William?" his wife asked.

"I scarcely know, myself," he answered; "but, if I had quite my own way, I should send you and Nelly down to the settlements in the scow and fight it out here with the hands."

"You certainly will not have your own way in that," his wife said. "If you go of course I go; if you stay I stay. I would a thousand times rather go through a siege here, and risk the worst, than go down to Gloucester and have the frightful anxiety of not knowing what was happening here. Besides, it is very possible, as you say, that the Indians may attack the settlement itself. Many of the people there have had no experience in Indian war, and the redskins are likely to be far more successful in their surprise there than they would be here. If we go we should have to leave our house, our barns, our stacks, and our animals to the mercy of the savages. Your capital is pretty nearly all embarked here now, and the loss of all this would be ruin to us. At any rate, William, I am ready to stay here and to risk what may come if you are. A life on the frontier is necessarily a life of danger, and if we are to abandon everything and to have to commence life afresh every time the Indians go on the war-path, we had better give it up at once and return to Massachusetts."

"Very well, my dear," her husband said gravely. "You are a true frontiersman's wife; you have chosen as I should have done. It is a choice of evils; but God has blessed and protected us since we came out into the wilderness—we will trust and confide in him now. At any rate," he went on more cheerfully, "there is no fear of the enemy starving us out. We got in our store of provisions only a fortnight since, and have enough of everything for a three-months' siege. There is no fear of our well failing us; and as for ammunition, we have abundance. Seeing how Harold was using powder and ball, I had an extra supply when the stores came in the other day. There is plenty of corn in the barn for the animals for months, and I will have the corn which the men are cutting brought in as a supply of food for the cows. It will be useful for another purpose, too; we will keep a heap of it soaked with water and will cover the shingles with it in case of attack. It will effectually quench their fire arrows."

The day passed off without the slightest alarm, and by nightfall the patch of corn was cleared away and an uninterrupted view of the ground for the distance of a hundred yards from the house was afforded. When night fell two out of the four dogs belonging to the farm were fastened out in the open, at a distance of from seventy to eighty yards of the house, the others being retained within the stockade. The garrison was divided into three watches, two men being on the alert at a time, relieving each other every three hours. Mr. Welch took Harold as his companion on the watch. The boy was greatly excited at the prospect of a struggle. He had often read of the desperate fights between the frontier settlers and the Indians, and had longed to take a share in the adventurous work. He could scarcely believe that the time had come and that he was really a sharer in what might be a desperate struggle.

The first watch was set at nine, and at twelve Mr. Welch and Harold came on duty. The men they relieved reported that all was silent in the woods, and that they had heard no suspicious cries of any kind. When the men had returned to their room