The Riflemen of the Miami Part 21

Further utterance was checked by an exclamation from the Huron. Looking forth, Dernor saw that the crisis of the contest had arrived!

CHAPTER XII.

CONCLUSION.

They come!--be firm--in silence rally! The Long Knives our retreat have found! Hark! their tramp is in the valley, And they hem the forest round! The burthened boughs with pale scouts quiver, The echoing hills tumultuous ring, While, across the eddying river, Their barks, like foaming war-steeds, spring, The bloodhounds darken land and water, They come--like buffaloes for slaughter.--G. P. MORRIS.

At that point from which the Huron had advanced to the fort, the Shawnees and Miamis had now collected, preparatory to their final attack upon it. The wood being thick at this spot, they had little difficulty in keeping their bodies out of sight, the besieged being enabled to judge of their position by the points of their rifles and portions of their dress, which they took no pains to conceal.

"That means business," said Dernor, loosening his knife, and examining the priming of his rifle. "What's their idea, Oonamoo?"

"Run all togedder--make big rush--all come from one side."

Being satisfied of this, the Huron crossed over to the side of the hunter, so as to be ready for the a.s.sault. He was as cool as if sitting in his own wigwam, although none was more aware than himself of the peril that hung over his head. Could the Shawnees or Miamis once obtain his person, no species of torment that their fiendish minds could invent would be left untried upon him. But he had played hide-and-seek too long with death, to be disconcerted in a moment like this.

"What are they waiting for?" asked Dernor, who began to grow impatient at the delay.

"Ain't waitin'--here dey come!"

As he spoke, ten Indians suddenly appeared to view, from behind as many trees, and, pausing a moment, set up a yell that must have been heard miles distant, and rushed with the speed of the whirlwind toward the fort. Half-way across the clearing they had come, when the sharp crack of two rifles was heard, and the two foremost savages, making a tremendous bound in the air, came down to the ground in their death-struggles. But the others were not checked in the least. On they came, right over the prostrate bodies, and the next minute were tearing at the pile of logs, with the fury of madmen.

The Rifleman and the Huron had discharged their rifles together at the savages, as they came pouring forward; then drawing their knives, they awaited the onset. The logs, loosely thrown together, could not long resist the efforts to dislodge them, and, in a few minutes, came tumbling to the ground. The first bronzed skull that appeared above them was shattered like an egg-sh.e.l.l, by the stock of the Huron's rifle; while, as the savages swarmed in, Dernor stooped, and catching Edith round the waist, bounded clear of the logs, and dashed at headlong speed across the clearing. Right behind, like a pack of hounds, poured his relentless enemies, held in check solely by the Huron, who, covering the retreat of his white friends, raged like a tiger with his clubbed rifle; but, powerful and agile as he was, he was finally brought to the earth, and, heedless of him, the savages poured onward, intent only on capturing Dernor and Edith.

At this moment the edge of the clearing was reached; the fugitive had dashed into the wood, and his enemies were just following, when several flashes illuminated the edge of the forest, and simultaneous with the report, the remaining Riflemen of the Miami, with one exception, burst into the clearing and shot forward like a tornado toward the savages.

The number of the whites was increased by Harry and Jim Smith, but half of the Indians had already gone to the earth, and the remaining ones broke and scattered as if a mine had exploded beneath their feet.

"h.e.l.lo! anybody hurt?" demanded Harry Smith. "Come back here, Lew, and let us see you."

The fugitive had run quite a distance; but, recognizing the voice of a friend, he halted, looked back, and then returned. In the clearing, he saw standing the panting, excited forms of the brothers Smith, Allmat, George Dernor and Ferdinand Sego! The latter was leaning on his rifle, and looked up as Lewis and Edith came to view. He instantly started, as if struck by a bullet, and gazed at her as though he doubted the evidence of his own eyes. Edith, on her part, was hardly less agitated.

She trembled and leaned heavily a moment on the hunter's arm, and then, relinquis.h.i.+ng her hold, bounded forward and was clasped in the arms of Sego. Neither spoke until they had partly recovered from their emotions; then they conversed in tones so low, that the bystanders, had they wished, could not have overheard the words that were said.

All this time, as may well be supposed, Lewis Dernor was tortured by the most agonizing emotions. The beautiful dreams and air-castles which he had been continually forming and building during the past few days, now dissolved like mist in the air, and left nothing but the cold, cheerless reality, far colder and more cheerless than had ever before impressed him. Sego and Edith were reunited, and although there appeared to have been some mystery and misunderstanding between them, it was now cleared up, and their happiness seemed complete. The Rifleman drew a deep sigh and looked up.

"I say, Lew," said his brother, "I've asked yer half a dozen times, whether there's any thing that need keep us here any longer?"

"The Huron--Oonamoo?" asked the hunter, looking around him.

"Was Oonamoo with you?--I recollect, now, Tom said he was. Well, that must be him, then, stretched out yonder."

The two moved toward the prostrate form of the Indian, which lay upon its face. They rolled him over on his back, but he was limp and nerveless as a rag. His body was still warm, but to all appearance he was entirely lifeless--a gash on the side of his face, from which a great quant.i.ty of blood had streamed over his person, adding to the ghastly appearance of the body.

"Poor fellow! he's dead," said Lewis, with a saddened feeling, as he looked down upon him. "He was a faithful fellow, and had few equals.

I'm sorry he's dead."

"Oonamoo ain't dead," said the prostrate individual, opening his eyes, and getting upon his feet with some difficulty. "Play 'possum--dat all."

"You're a good one," said George Dernor, admiringly, as he supported him. "You've had considerable of a hurt though, along side of your noddle."

"Hit purty hard--hurt a _leetle_," said the Huron.

"We'll dress your wounds as soon as we reach the brook out in the woods. What did you play 'possum for?"

"Fool Shawnee--fool Miami--t'ink dey cotch Lew and gal, den come and git Oonamoo scalp. If t'ink he ain't dead, kill him; wait till get out of sight, den run."

The meaning of which was, that the Huron, upon being felled to the earth, concluded it best to feign death until his enemies were out of sight, when he would have risen to his feet and fled. The wound he had received was so severe, that he knew his flight would be difficult and tardy, and he, therefore, avoided giving any signs of life as long as he had reason to believe the savages were in the vicinity. Of course he was perfectly conscious when the two Riflemen stood over him, and heard their words. Understanding at once from these the changed condition of affairs, he arose to his feet, as we have mentioned.

A few minutes later, the party was moving slowly through the wood. The brothers Smith led the way; behind them came Sego and Edith far more affectionate and loving than she and Dernor had ever been. The latter, with his brother, and Allmat and Oonamoo, brought up the rear. In a few minutes they reached the brook, where the party halted.

The stoical Huron had borne up like a martyr thus far; but the precipitation with which he sought a seat the moment a pause was made, showed that he had taxed nature to the utmost. The cool fluid was taken from the brook in the canteens of the hunters, all the blood thoroughly washed from the Indian, and then the wound was carefully bandaged by Edith, from pieces of her own dress. This done, the savage rose to his feet--his head being so swathed and bundled up that it was nearly thrice its ordinary size--and looked about him with an air that was truly amusing.

"You'll be all right agin in a few days," said Harry Smith. "Let's move on, as the day is getting well along."

"Oonamoo don't go furder--leave you here," said the savage.

"How is this? Come, go with us to the settlement and stay till your wound gets better," said Lewis.

All joined their entreaties, but it availed nothing. The savage had made up his mind, and it could not be changed.

"Can't stay--Shawnees, Delawares, all round--git much scalp in woods,"

and waving them an adieu, he plunged into the forest.

"Injin is Injin!" said Jim Smith; "you can't change his nature. The missionaries have had a hold of him, and made him an honorable red-skin, but they can't get that hankering after scalps out of him.

Shall I tell you where he's going? He's going back: to the clearin'

where them dead Injins are stretched, and intends to get their top-knots. I seen him look at 'em very wishful-like when we started away. He was too weak, and he didn't want to do it afore Edith, or he'd 've had 'em afore we left that place."

[The next time the Riflemen encountered the Huron, it was upon the war-trail, and full a dozen more scalp-locks hung at his girdle!]

Again the party moved forward, now with considerable briskness, there being no cause for tardiness or delay. Sego and Edith conversed in low tones, every look and action showing their perfect happiness, while the hardy leader of the Riflemen was as wretched an object as it is possible to imagine. They had progressed several miles, when, as they descended a sort of hollow, they encountered O'Hara, hurrying along as fast as the shortness of his legs would permit.

"h.e.l.lo!" he exclaimed, suddenly halting. "Is the row done with?"

"Of course it is," replied Harry Smith.

"Who finished it?"

"We all had a hand in it, I reckon."

"It's an all-fired shame. As soon as--where's Oonamoo?" he abruptly demanded, looking around him.

"Gone off in the woods for scalps."

"Didn't lose his?"

"No; although he come mighty nigh losing his head."