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

it shone over a wide expanse of snow, unbroken save where lay the bodies of the two Indians—whose scalps already hung at the belt of the Seneca—and those of their four comrades who had fallen in the first attack.

The day passed quietly. Toward the afternoon two Indians were seen approaching from the shore. They were unarmed and held their hands aloft as a sign of amity. Peter and Pearson at once laid down their guns, left the island, and advanced to meet them. They were Indian chiefs of importance.

"Why have my white brothers stolen in at night upon the village of War Eagle and slain his young men?"

"It is what you have been doing all last year, chief," Pearson, who spoke the dialect better than Peter, replied. "But we injured no one. We didn't kill women and children, as your warriors have done in the white villages. We only came to take what you had stolen from us, and ef your young men have been killed it's only because they tried to attack us."

"The white men must see," the chief said, "that they cannot get away. The water is hard, and their canoe will not swim in it. The snow is deep, and the tender feet cannot walk through it. My warriors are very numerous, and the white men cannot fight their way through them. The white settlements are very far away, and their friends cannot reach them; and it will be many months before the water softens, and long before that the white men will have eaten their moccasins."

"Waal, chief," Pearson said, "we're in a tight hole, I grant you; but I'm far from allowing that we aint no chances left to us yet. What do you propose? I suppose you've some proposition to make."

"Let the white men leave behind them their guns and their powder and the maidens they have taken from War Eagle's camp; then let them go in peace. They shall not be harmed."

Pearson gave a short laugh.

"War Eagle must think the white men are foolish. What's to prevent the red warriors from taking all our scalps when our arms are in their hands?"

"The word of a great chief," War Eagle said. "War Eagle never lies."

"You may not lie, chief," Pearson said bluntly, "but I've known many a treaty broken afore now. You and your people may not touch us, but there's other redskins about, and I wouldn't give a beaver's skin for our sculps ef we were to take the back trail to the settlements without arms in our hands. Besides that, we've among us the father of the gal who was stole far away off from Lake Champlain, and a relative of hers whose parents you've killed down on the lake. Ef we were to agree to give up our arms, it stands to reason it aint likely they'd agree to give up the gals. No, no, chief; your terms aren't reasonable. But I tell ye what we will do; ef you'll give us your word that neither you nor your tribe'll molest us in our retreat we'll go back to the settlements, and 'll engage that, when we get back there, we'll send you nine of the best rifles money can buy, with plenty of powder and ball, and blankets and such like."

The chief waved his hand in contemptuous refusal of the terms.

"There are six of my young men's scalps at your girdles, and their places are empty. War Eagle has spoken."

"Very well, chief," Pearson said. "Ef nothing but sculps will content you, to fighting it must come; but I warn you that your tribe'll lose a good many more afore they get ours."

So saying, without another word, they separated, each party making their way back to their friends.

"What on earth can he have proposed such terms as those for?" Harold asked, when Pearson had related what had taken place between him and the chief. "He must have known we should not accept them."

"I expect," Pearson said, "he wanted to see who we were and to judge what sort of spirit we had. It may be, too, that there was a party among the tribe who had no stomachs for the job of attacking this place, and so he was obliged to make a show of offering terms to please 'em; but he never meant as they should be accepted. No, I take it they'll wait a few days to see what hunger'll do. They must be pretty sure that we've not a very large supply of food."

CHAPTER XVI. THE GREAT STORM.

"Let us overhaul our packages," Harold said, "and see what provisions we have left. It would be as well to know how we stand."

It was found that they had a sufficient supply of flour to last, with care, for a fortnight. The meal was nearly exhausted; of tea they had an abundance; the sugar was nearly out, and they had three bottles of spirits.

"Could we not make the flour last more than the fourteen days by putting ourselves on half rations?" Harold asked.

"We might do that," Peter said, "but I tell you the rations would be small even for fourteen days. We've calkilated according to how much we eat when we've plenty of meat, but without meat it'd be only a starvation ration to each. Fortunately we've fish-hooks and lines, and by making holes in the ice we can get as many fish as we like. Waal, we can live on them alone, if need be, and an ounce or two of flour, made into cakes, will be enough to go with 'em. That way the flour would last us pretty nigh two months. I don't say that, if the wust comes to the wust, we might not hold on right to the spring on fish. The lake's full of 'em, and some of 'em have so much oil in 'em that they're nigh as good as meat."

"Do you think, Peter, that if the Indians make one great attack and are beaten off they will try again?"

"No one can say," Peter answered. "Injun natur' can't never be calkilated on. I should say if they got a thundering beating they aint likely to try again; but there's never no saying."

"The sooner they attack and get it o'er the better," Cameron said. "I hae na slept a wink the last twa nights. If I doze off for a moment I wake up, thinking I hear their yells. I am as ready to fight as ony o' you when the time comes, but the thought o' my daughter, here, makes me nervous and anxious. What do you say, Jake?"

"It all de same to Jake, Massa Cameron. Jake sleeps bery sound, but he no like de tought ob eating nothing but fish for five or six months. Jake neber bery fond ob fish."

"You'll like it well enough when you get used to it, Jake," Pearson said. "It's not bad eating on a pinch, only you want to eat a sight of it to satisfy you. Well, let's see how the fish'll bite."

Four holes were cut in the ice at a short distance apart. The hooks were attached to strong lines and baited with deer's flesh, and soon the fishing began. The girls took great interest in the proceeding. Nelly was an adept at the sport, having generally caught the fish for the consumption of the household at home. She took charge of one of the lines, Harold of another, while Jake and one of the Senecas squatted themselves by the other holes. There had been some discussion as to whether the fishing should take place on the side of the island facing the shore or behind the rocks, but the former was decided upon. This was done because all were anxious that the expected attack should take place as soon as possible, and the event was likely to be hastened when the Indians saw that they were provided with lines and were thus able to procure food for a considerable time.

It was soon manifest that, if they could live upon fish, they need feel no uneasiness as to its supply. Scarcely had the lines been let down than fish were fast to them. Harold and the other men soon had trout, from three to six pounds, lying on the ice beside them, but Nelly was obliged to call Pearson to her assistance, and the fish, when brought to the surface, was found to be over twenty pounds in weight. An hour's fishing procured them a sufficient supply for a week's consumption. There was no fear as to the fish keeping, for in a very short time after being drawn from the water they were frozen stiff and hard. They were hung up to some boughs near the huts, and the party were glad enough to get into shelter again, for the cold was intense.

As before, the early part of the night passed quietly; but toward morning Peter, who was on watch, ran down and awakened the others.

"Get your shooting-irons and hurry up," he said. "The varmints are coming this time in arnest."

In a minute everyone was at the post assigned to him. A number of dark figures could be seen coming over the ice.

"There's nigh two hundred of 'em," Peter said. "War Eagle has brought the whole strength of his tribe."

Contrary to their usual practice the Indians did not attempt to crawl up to the place they were about to attack, but advanced at a run across the ice. The defenders lost not a moment in opening fire, for some of their rifles would carry as far as the shore.

"Shoot steady," Peter said. "Don't throw away a shot."

Each man loaded and fired as quickly as he could, taking a steady aim, and the dark figures which dotted the ice behind the advancing Indians showed that the fire was an effectual one. The Indians did not return a shot. Their chief had, no doubt, impressed upon them the uselessness of firing against men lying in shelter, and had urged them to hurry at the top of their speed to the island and crush the whites in a hand-to-hand fight.

It was but three or four minutes from the time the first shot was fired before they were close to the island. They made, as Peter had expected, toward the little cove, which was indeed the only place at which a landing could well be effected. Harold ran down and hid himself in a bush at the spot where the train terminated, carrying with him a glowing brand from the fire.

"War Eagle means to have our sculps this time," Peter said to Pearson. "I never seed an uglier rush. White men couldn't have done better."

The Indians had run in scattered order across the ice, but they closed up as they neared the cove. As they rushed toward it four fell beneath the shots of half the defenders, and another four a few seconds later from a volley by the other section.

In a wonderfully short time the first were ready again, and the Indians wavered at the slaughter and opened fire upon the breastwork, behind which the defenders were crouching. Those behind pressed on, and, with terrific yells, the mass of Indians bounded forward.

Harold had remained inactive, crouching behind the bush. He saw the head of the dark mass rush past him and then applied the brand to the train.

There was a tremendous explosion. Yells and screams rent the air, and in an instant a dark line of water, twenty feet wide, stretched across the mouth of the cove.

In this were pieces of floating ice and numbers of Indians struggling and yelling. Some made only a faint struggle before they sank, while others struck out for the side furthest from the island.

The main body of the Indians, appalled by the explosion, checked themselves in their course and at once took to flight; some, unable to check their impetus, fell into the water upon the wounded wretches who were struggling there. Those who had crossed stood irresolute, and then, turning, leaped into the water. As they struggled to get out on the opposite side the defenders maintained a deadly fire upon them, but, in two or three minutes, the last survivor had scrambled out, and all were in full flight toward the shore.

"I think we've seen the last of the attacks," Peter said, as they came down from their breastwork and joined Harold in the cove. "That was a first-rate notion of yours, lad. Ef it hadn't been for that we should have been rubbed out, sure enough; another minute and we'd have gone down. They were in arnest and no mistake; they'd got steam up and was determined to finish with us at once, whatever it cost 'em."

The instant the attack had ceased Cameron had hastened to the hut where the girls were lying, to