Mass' George Part 79

I had hardly finished my meal, and begun to feel a little rested and refreshed, before I was attracted out into the enclosure where the ladies and children, whom I had seen only the day before looking cheerful and merry, were wearing a wild, scared look as they were being hurried into the block-house, while the most vigorous preparations were carried on.

"They don't mean to be taken by surprise, Morgan," I said, as I ran against him, watching. "The Indians may not come after all."

"Not come?" he said. "What! Haven't you heard?"

"I--heard?"

"The message brought in by one of the scouts?"

I had not heard that any had been sent out, and I said so.

"The General sent them out directly, and one has come back to say that they had found signs of Indians having been about, and that they had been round by our clearing."

"Yes! Well?" I said.

"The dead Indians were gone."

I started at the news.

"Perhaps they did not go to the right place."

"Oh, yes, they did," said Morgan, seriously, "because two men told me about finding the marks close beside the big tree where we had our fight."

"Marks?" I said.

"Yes; you know. Well, they are keeping a good look-out, spread all round, and keeping touch with each other. So you may be sure that the enemy is not far off, and we expect them down upon us before long."

The thought of all this made the evening look gloomy and strange, though it was a glorious sunset, for the clouds that gathered in the west were to me like the smoke of burning houses touched with fire, and the deep rich red glow like blood. And as I watched the changes, it seemed that the softened reflections had turned into one fierce fiery glow that told of the destruction of the fort and the houses of the settlement, till, as it all died out, the light growing paler and paler, there was nothing at last but the cold grey ashes to tell of where the houses had been.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

I quite started as a hand was laid upon my shoulder.

"Thinking, George?" said my father. I told him I had been watching the sunset. Shame kept me from saying more.

"Ah, yes," he said, sadly. "It was very glorious. What a pity that the beautiful land over which such a sun s.h.i.+nes should be spoiled by bloodshed!"

"Do you think the Indians will come to-night?" I said, a little huskily.

He was silent for a few moments, and stood gazing in my face.

"Afraid?" he said, with a smile.

"Yes, father," I said, frankly. "It makes me feel afraid. But when all the fighting and excitement is going on I don't feel to mind it half so much."

"That is human nature, my boy," he said, smiling. "No doubt there are men who never know what fear is, but they must be very rare. I have known very few."

"But you, father?" I said, excitedly. "You never knew what it was to be afraid?"

He laughed as he pressed my shoulder with his hand.

"Always, my boy, when I am going to encounter danger, and from the General downward, I think I may say we all feel fear. It is no disgrace to a brave man to shrink from that which he has to encounter. Why, my experience teaches me that those men who think and feel in this way do the bravest deeds."

"Then I needn't be ashamed of feeling a little alarm--I mean being a bit of a coward now, father?"

"No," he said, with a peculiar smile. "But as it is highly probable that we shall be attacked to-night, it would be as well to be careful.

The women and children are all in the block-house now; the men will be strongly posted at the gates and palisade, while the reserves will be in front of the block-house, in our rough outer works, ready to go to any menaced point or to cover their comrades if they have to retreat, and we are compelled to take to the block-house as a last resource.--There: I must go. You are tired, boy. You have had a long and perilous day.

I'll excuse you from everything to-night, and you had better get to the block-house and have a good night's rest."

"Oh, don't say that, father," I cried, dolefully. "Go and be shut up there with the women and children!"

"What do you wish to do, then?" he said, still smiling in a peculiar way.

"Be about here, and go round to the different sentries."

"With arrows flying, perhaps."

"But it will be dark, and they are not likely to hit," I said.

"Besides, I might be useful fetching ammunition and helping to load."

"You can stay about," he said, clapping both hands on my shoulders, and laughing. "I don't think you need be ashamed of your cowardice, my boy."

He walked away, leaving me feeling puzzled, for I hardly knew what he meant, whether he was joking me or laughing at me for what I said. But it was all put out of my head directly by a little bustle at the gate, where the men who had been scouting were beginning to return, so as to be well in shelter before it grew dark; and as I followed them up, the report they made to the officers soon reached my ears.

It was very brief: they had seen no Indians, but had followed the track of those who had fetched away the bodies of their dead, and traced them to a portion of the forest some six miles away, when, not feeling it wise to follow farther, they had come straight across country home.

There was neither moon nor star that night, as, with every light carefully extinguished in camp, patient watch was kept, and every eye fixed from three of the sides upon the edge of the forest beyond the plantations. So still was everything that, save when a faint whisper rose when an officer went round, the place might have been unoccupied.

But the hours glided by with nothing to occasion the slightest alarm, as we all listened to the faint sounds which came from distant forest and swamp. So still was it that even the splash of some great fish in the river reached our ears as we leaned over the great fence by the gateway.

I had been round the enclosure with my father twice in the course of the evening, for though tired I was too much excited to sleep. Then I had been and had a chat with our Sarah, in the hospital-room, and after that gone to the little side shelter by our tent, where Hannibal and Pomp were both sleeping as peaceably as if there were no danger in the air.

As I stood looking down at them, it was with something like a feeling of envy, for I was terribly heavy, and would gladly have lain down to sleep, but it was impossible then; and as I left them and crossed the great enclosure, I heard a low whispered conversation going on just in front, and as I stopped short a hand caught mine, and said sternly--

"Who is this? Oh, it's you, young Bruton. No alarm, is there?"

It was Colonel Preston who spoke, and after telling him that all seemed quiet I pa.s.sed on, and in an uneasy way went from sentry to sentry to say a word or two to each, as I inquired whether my father had been by.

He had not, so I went on till I came to the corner of the enclosure farthest from the forest, where I could dimly see the man on duty straining himself over the great fence; and so occupied was he in gazing into the distance that he did not notice my presence till I spoke.

"You, Master George?"

"You, Morgan?"

"Why, I thought you'd ha' been asleep."

"No; I could not go," I said. "But why were you looking out there?"