In Far Bolivia Part 47

"Yes, dear, you have a father and a mother, who are fond of you. Must you not return soon to them?"

"My father and my mother I love," replied Weenah. "And you I love, for you have taught me to pray to the pale-face's G.o.d. You have taught me many, many things that are good and beautiful. My life now is all joy and brightness, and so, though I love my mother and my father, oh! bid me not to leave you."

All this was spoken in the language of the country. It was Greek to those around them, but even Bill could see that the dark-eyed maiden was pleading for something, for her hand was in Peggy's, her eyes upon hers.

It was just at this moment that scouts came hurrying in from the forest, bringing news that was startling enough, as well as surprising.

These men had come speedily in, almost as fleet of foot as deer, and the word they brought was that the savages, at least six hundred strong, were not more than three hours distant.

Roland showed no excitement, whatever he might feel. Nor did d.i.c.k. Yet both were ready for action.

Burly Bill, who had been quietly smoking a little way off, put his great thumb in the bowl of his meerschaum, and stowed away that faithful companion of his in his coat-pocket.

Can a young fellow still in his teens, and whom we older men are all too apt to sneer at as a mere boy, prove himself a good general. He may and he can, if he has grit in him and a head of some sort surmounting his shoulders.

From what followed I think Roland proved that he was in possession of both.

Well, he had descended from a long line of hardy Cornish ancestors, and there is more in good blood than we are apt to believe.

He came to the front now at all events, and d.i.c.k and Bill, to say nothing of Benee, Rodrigo, and the other canoe captains, were ready to obey his every command.

Roland called a council of war at once, and it did not take long to come to a decision.

Our chief hero was the princ.i.p.al speaker. But brave men do not lose much time in words.

"Boys," he said, "we've got to fight these rascally savages. That's so, I think?"

"That's so," was the chorus.

"Well, and we've got to beat them, too. We want to give them something that shall keep them both quiet and civil until we can afford to send out a few missionaries to improve their morals.

"Now, Rodrigo, I cannot force you to fight."

"Force, sir? I need no force. Command me."

"Well, I will. I wish to outflank these beggars. You and our Indians, with Benee as your guide, are just the men to do so.

"The moon will be up in another hour. It will be the harvest-moon in England. The harvest-moon here, too--but a harvest, alas! of blood.

"Now, Benee," he continued, "as soon as we are ready, guide these men with Captain Rodrigo for some distance down-stream, then curl round the savages, and when they begin to retreat, or even before that, attack them in the rear. Good luck to you!"

As silently as ghosts two hundred and fifty well-armed Indians, a short time after Roland made that brave little speech, glided down the brow of the hill, and disappeared in the woods beyond.

Though our heroes listened, they could not hear a sound, not even the crackling of a bush or broken branch.

Soon the moon glared red through the topmost boughs of the far-off trees, and flooded all the land with a light almost as bright as day.

The stars above, that before had glittered on the river's rippling breast, and the stars beneath--those wondrous flitting fire-insects--paled before its beams, and the night-birds sought for shelter in caves among the rocks. So over all the prairie and woodlands there fell a stillness that was almost oppressive. It was as if Nature held her breath, expectant of the fight that was to follow.

Nor was that fight very long delayed. But it must have been well on towards midnight before the first indication of an approaching foe was made manifest.

Only a long, mournful hoot, away in the bush, and bearing a close resemblance to that of the owl.

It was repeated here and there from different quarters, and our heroes knew that an attack was imminent.

There was in the centre of the camp a roomy cave. In this all stores had been placed, with water enough for a night at all events, and here were Peggy and Weenah safely guarded by Brawn. Roland had managed to make the darkness visible by lighting two candles and placing them on the wall.

In a smaller cave was Peter, and as he had given evidence lately of a great desire to escape, the boys had taken the liberty to rope him.

"You shall live to repent this," hissed the man through his teeth.

He had thrown overboard all his plausibility now, and a.s.sumed his natural self--the dangerous villain.

"Have a care," replied d.i.c.k, "or you will not live long enough to repent of anything."

On one side of the camp was the river, down under a cliff of considerable height. It was very quiet and sluggish just here, and its gentle whispering was no louder than a light breeze sighing through forest trees.

There were, therefore, really only three sides of the parapet and hill to defend.

And now Burly Bill's quick ear caught the sound of rustling down below.

"The savages are on us," he said quietly.

"Then give them a volley to begin with," answered Roland.

The white men started down scores of huge stones; but this was more for the purpose of bringing the savages into sight than with a view to wound or kill any.

It had the desired effect, and probably another, for the cannibals must have believed the pale-faces had no other means of defence.

They were seen now in the bright moonlight scrambling up-hill in scores, with knives in their mouths and spears on their backs.

"Fire straight and steadily, men," cried the young chief, Roland. "Fire independently, and every man at the enemy in front of him."

A well-aimed and rattling volley, followed by another and another, made the Indians pause. The number of dead and wounded was great, and impeded the progress of those who would have rushed up and on.

Volley after volley was now poured into the savage ranks, but they came pressing up from behind as black and fierce and numerous as a colony of mountain-ants.

Their yelling and war-cries were terrible to hear.

But the continuous volley-firing still kept them at bay.

"The rockets, d.i.c.k, are they ready?"

"Yes, captain, all ready."

"Try the effect of these."

It was a fearful sight to witness those dread weapons of warfare tear through the ranks of these shrieking demons.