The Cabin on the Prairie Part 20

"The captain's most ready," said black Nancy, glancing out of the window, as Tom finished his repast.

"Farewell, my boy," said Mrs. McElroy. "I wish you success, and hope no harm will come to you;" and Tom went out and mounted the horse that had been provided for him, and shaking hands with the kind settler who brought him there, he saw Mrs. McElroy and Alice waving their handkerchiefs, as he and the men rode in military order out of the square.

The horses were in good order, and the men in fine spirits, glad, after their idle life within the fort, to be sent on active duty. The day was almost cloudless, the air pure and bracing, and they coursed the smooth prairies at a rapid rate. Yet to Tom's anxious heart the moments seemed long; and when they stopped at noon for refreshment, and to bait the horses, Tom could scarcely brook the delay. He was really on his way with a brave band for the rescue. The thought of this was joyful to him, yet he was afraid that they might arrive too late; and as the soldiers lay upon the gra.s.s eating their rations, Captain Manly, reading his feelings, said to him,--

"Be patient, my dear boy; be patient. The old saying, 'Prayer and provender hinder no man's journey,' is as true in war as in peace."

He was a Christian soldier, and he added,--

"We must pray, Tom, that G.o.d will prosper us. By this bit of rest the men and horses will be all the better for service when we catch up with the savages; and if G.o.d shall so order it, we will save such of the poor settlers as have escaped from ma.s.sacre."

About the middle of the afternoon they drew near one of the settlements that lay in their path. Scouts were sent ahead to see if any Indians were lurking in the vicinity. They reported that none were to be seen, but that the village had been totally destroyed. Putting spurs to their horses, the eager soldiers were soon on the ground.

The air was still heavy with the smell of the burning, and as they pa.s.sed along they saw that every cabin had been consumed. It was a scene of utter desolation. The horses' feet splashed in pools of clotted blood, while ever and anon they came to the mutilated remains of some victim of the ma.s.sacre. In one place lay the form of a brawny pioneer, his broken rifle still clutched by the muzzle, while the ground around him was torn up by the mighty struggle he had made with his a.s.sailants. Here young children had been murdered by being dashed against a tree. To an oak near by a woman had been nailed while yet alive. All the corpses were horribly mangled and disfigured, indignities the most fiendish being heaped upon them. Their ears and noses were cut off, sticks were thrust into their eyes, and their mouths were filled with filth.

These awful sights wrought up the soldiers to frenzy. Tom's pa.s.sions rose also; but he was startled by the deadly paleness that sat upon the countenances of the others, so expressive of intensified hate and desire for revenge. But the scouts again appeared, and reported a large force of Indians encamped before a log house a few miles farther on; and Captain Manly decided to strike for a piece of woods to the right of the savages. When the woods were reached, it was discovered that all the dwellings on either side of the besieged cabin, comprising three promising young villages, had been swept away.

Cautiously the little company pushed on to the scene of action. Before the lone cabin were a.s.sembled hundreds of Indians, engaged in some savage ceremony.

"They have taken a captive," whispered Captain Manly, "and have brought him near the cabin to tantalize the inmates, hoping to induce them to make a sortie for the rescue of the prisoner."

"It is Long Hair!" replied Tom, wild with excitement.

"Be quiet, be quiet, my boy," replied the captain; "we'll be in _their_ long hair before they get his, if they don't look sharp."

Then dividing his force into four companies of ten men each, and directing them to crawl carefully through the long gra.s.s to the points he designated near the foe, he instructed each man to be sure of his aim, and fire when the captain's division fired. The Indians had been so successful in their attacks on the settlements thus far, and so unmolested in their barbarities, that they were now completely off their guard, which enabled the whites to get close to them un.o.bserved.

Tom's eyes were fastened upon Long Hair. The faithful Indian's handsome face betrayed no fear, but it was evident that he had given up all hopes of deliverance. With eagle eye he watched the ceremonies, and, as he saw them approach their fatal termination, began to chant his death-song. Captain Manly understood Indian customs, and telling certain of his men to make sure of the savages nearest Long Hair, he gave the signal, and the bullets of the ten unerring marksmen mowing them down, firing from the other detachments following with deadly effect.

The panic of the Indians was indescribable; for the firing from so extended a line gave the impression of a much larger force than had really attacked them. Their confusion was increased also at seeing some soldiers issue from the woods, mounted; for the captain had given orders, in case there was a panic, for a portion of the command quietly and quickly to take to their horses and pursue the fugitives.

Thinking themselves attacked by superior numbers of both cavalry and infantry, the Indians were at the mercy of the soldiers, who shot and sabred them with small opposition.

As soon as Captain Manly saw the effect of the first volley, he said to Tom,--

"I shall leave Long Hair in your charge."

For with delicate magnanimity he would have Tom be the deliverer of the n.o.ble Indian who had perilled his life for Tom.

The lad needed no second hint, but sprang away, and severed the thongs that bound his Indian friend to the death-stake.

"Ugh! Tom good friend; big soldier-boy," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the grateful Indian.

"Are father and mother safe?" asked Tom.

"In cabin there," replied Long Hair.

Tom hurried forward towards the dwelling, but Long Hair seized him, saying,--

"Maybe they think you Injun; shoot you!" for his keen eye had caught sight of the muzzle of a gun pointing at them from out an aperture in the building. "White chief come soon," he immediately added. "They no fire at you; see, gun gone."

Scarcely had he uttered these words, when the outer door opened, and Tom saw his mother standing there, for she had discerned him in the deepening twilight, and recognized him as her son. Tom, with a bound, hastened to her, and as she folded him in her arms, and tenderly kissed him, he inquired,--

"But where is father?"

"Speak softly," she replied, as she led the way to a bed in a corner of the inner building, on which lay Mr. Jones. "He is wounded," said she, mournfully, "and is sleeping now. We cannot yet tell how it will turn with him, but hope for the best."

"But where are the other men?" asked Tom, weeping, for only a few women and children were in sight.

"They deserted us night before last. Our provisions had run low, and the savages had retired to make us think they had left, and the men, half crazed with sleepless nights and scanty food, were deluded by the idea that they might get safely away, and perhaps bring us aid.

But, poor things, they were not themselves, and they had gone only a few rods, when they were set upon by the savages, and brutally slaughtered before our eyes. We used our guns on the Indians as well as we could, but found it difficult to prevent them from scaling the building."

"Did _you_ fire upon them?" asked Tom, wonderingly.

"Yes, my son," said she, gently; "and last night, knowing how feeble our force must be, they were emboldened to attempt to burn the house.

The roof caught in several places, and your father went up and put out the fire at the risk of his life. It was then that he was shot. He had been our main defence from the first, for the Indians were more afraid of his rifle than a dozen of others."

"But how did you get along after father was disabled?"

"We women loaded, watched, and fired by turns. I do not see how we could have held out an hour longer. Help came just in time."

"But where are all the children," inquired Tom, forebodingly.

Mrs. Jones gave a low moan, as if her heart would break, but, with wonderful self-command, suppressed all other manifestations of emotion, and said, lovingly, laying her hand on his shoulder,--

"My son, we are a broken family; we shall never all meet again on earth. Charlie disappeared at the first attack. I did not see him killed; and you know what a quick, active boy he is, and he may have escaped, although the chances were fearfully against him. Sarah was overtaken by an Indian, and tomahawked while flying home from the store."

"And Bub?" sobbed Tom.

"That was one of the crudest of the cruelties connected with the outbreak. There was an Indian who made great professions of friends.h.i.+p, visiting our cabin almost daily. You saw him, Tom, when you visited us. We treated him very kindly, and made him many presents. He seemed to have a particular liking to Bub, and Bub was fond of him, and would always run to meet him when he saw him coming.

The day of the fatal attack, he made his appearance as usual, and Bub, with an exclamation of joy, hastened to be the first to greet him, when, as the child drew laughingly near, the treacherous savage raised his rifle, and shot him through the head. This was the signal for the a.s.sault. Sarah was standing at the time in the store door opposite, and, seeing the murder, started for the house, her face terribly pale with fright. So terrified was she that it seemed as if she flew rather than ran; but the same savage swiftly pursued her, and, being nearer the house than she, struck her down with his tomahawk. But Robert has been left to us, and a brave, good boy has he been."

Tom was so absorbed that he had not noticed the quiet entrance of Captain Manly and others of the command, who, seated or standing around the room, listened intently to his mother's account of the ma.s.sacre. As she concluded, the captain said,--

"I had taken the precaution, madam, to bring the surgeon along with me; and if you desire it, he will examine your husband's wounds, and see what is best to be done for him."

At which the doctor stepped forward and proceeded to probe and dress the wound.

"It is an ugly hurt," remarked the surgeon, "but by good care and nursing he may rally."

"Just what are impossible," answered the captain, "in this place.

Would it do to remove him, doctor?"

"If a good litter was prepared," was the reply, "there would be less risk in doing so than in leaving him in this wretched hole."

"Particularly," added the captain, "as the red-skins would be sure to come back to finish their fiendish work. And I would propose, madam, that, after my men have taken a little rest, we remove you and your family at once to the fort, where you shall receive the best of attention, and everything be done for your husband that skill and medicine and needful comforts can do for his recovery."

Mrs. Jones glanced at the ghastly wound of her husband.

"I understand your feelings," said the captain, kindly; "but you have shown that you are a brave woman, ever ready to do what is for the best. Now, the Indians to-night were some three or four hundred strong; and, panic-stricken as they were, some of them must have discovered that I have but a handful of men. They will return in larger force, thirsting for revenge. It is therefore indispensable that we take Mr. Jones with us. It is all we can do under the circ.u.mstances."