 | CHAPTER IX. The pathfinder, or, The inland sea |  |
9. CHAPTER IX.
Would that my bosom's blood were balm;
And—well thou knowest—I 'd shed it all,
To give thy brow one minute's calm.”
Moore.
The eyes of Serjeant Dunham had not ceased to follow
the form of his beautiful daughter, from the moment that the
light appeared. He next examined the door of the block, to
ascertain its security; for he was left on the ground below,
there being no available means of raising him to the upper
floor. Then he sought the face of Mabel; for as life wanes
fast, the affections resume their force, and we begin to value
that most which we feel we are about to lose forever.
“God be praised, my child, you, at least, have escaped
their murderous rifles!” he said; for he spoke with strength,
and seemingly, with no additional pain. “Give me the history
of this sad business, Pathfinder.”
“Ah 's me! sarjeant; it has been sad, as you say. That
there has been treachery, and the position of the island has
still hold the block. But—”
“Major Duncan was right;” interrupted Dunham, laying
a hand on the other's arm.
“Not in the sense you mean, sarjeant—no, not in that
p'int of view; never. At least, not in my opinion. I know
that natur' is weak—human natur', I mean—and that we
should none of us vaunt of our gifts, whether red or white;
but I do not think a truer-hearted lad lives on the lines, than
Jasper Western.”
“Bless you—bless you for that, Pathfinder!” burst forth
from Mabel's very soul, while a flood of tears gave vent to
emotions that were so varied, while they were so violent:—
“Oh! bless you, Pathfinder, bless you. The brave should
never desert the brave — the honest should sustain the
honest.”
The father's eyes were fastened anxiously on the face of
his daughter, until the latter hid her countenance in her apron,
to conceal her tears; and then they turned with inquiry to
the hard features of the guide. The latter merely wore their
usual expression of frankness, sincerity, and uprightness; and
the serjeant motioned to him to proceed.
“You know the spot where the Sarpent and I left you,
sarjeant,” Pathfinder resumed; “and I need say nothing of
all that happened afore. It is now too late to regret what
is gone and passed; but I do think if I had staid with the
boats, this would not have come to pass! Other men may
be as good guides; I make no doubt they are: but then natur'
bestows its gifts, and some must be better than other
some. I dare say, poor Gilbert, who took my place, has
suffered for his mistake.”
“He fell at my elbow;” the serjeant answered, in a low,
melancholy tone. “We have, indeed, all suffered for our
mistakes!”
“No, no, sarjeant, I meant no condemnation on you; for
men were never better commanded than your'n, in this very
expedition. I never beheld a prettier flanking; and the way
in which you carried your own boat up ag'in their howitzer
might have teached Lundie, himself, a lesson.”
The eyes of the serjeant brightened; and his face even
wore an expression of military triumph, though it was of a
an actor.
“'Twas not badly done, my friend,” he said; “and we
carried their log breast-work by storm!”
“'Twas nobly done, sarjeant: though I fear when all the
truth comes to be known, it will be found that these vagabonds
have got their howitzer back ag'in. Well, well, put
a stout heart upon it, and try to forget all that is disagreeable,
and to remember only the pleasant part of the matter.
That is your truest philosophy; ay, and truest religion, too.
If the inimy has got the howitzer ag'in, they've only got
what belonged to them afore, and what we couldn't help.
They hav'n't got the block-house, yet, nor are they likely to
get it, unless they fire it in the dark. Well, sarjeant, the
Sarpent and I separated about ten miles down the river; for
we thought it wisest not to come upon even a friendly camp
without the usual caution. What has become of Chingachgook,
I cannot say; though Mabel tells me he is not far off:
and I make no question the noble-hearted Delaware is doing
his duty, although he is not now visible to our eyes. Mark
my word, sarjeant; before this matter is over, we shall hear
of him at some critical time, and that in a discreet and creditable
manner. Ah! the Sarpent is, indeed, a wise and virtuous
chief; and any white man might covet his gifts, though
his rifle is not quite as sure as Killdeer, it must be owned.
Well, as I came near the island, I missed the smoke, and
that put me on my guard; for I knew that the men of the
55th were not cunning enough to conceal that sign, notwithstanding
all that has been told them of its danger. This
made me more careful, until I came in sight of this mockfisherman,
as I 've just told Mabel; and then the whole of
their infernal arts was as plain before me, as if I saw it on a
map. I need not tell you, sarjeant, that my first thoughts
were of Mabel; and that, finding she was in the block, I came
here, in order to live or die in her company.”
The father turned a gratified look upon his child, and
Mabel felt a sinking of the heart that, at such a moment, she
could not have thought possible, when she wished to believe
all her concern centred in the situation of her parent. As
the latter held out his hand, she took it in her own, and kissed
break.
“Mabel,” he said, steadily, “the will of God must be
done. It is useless to attempt deceiving either you or myself:
my time has come, and it is a consolation to me, to die
like a soldier. Lundie will do me justice, for our good friend
Pathfinder will tell him what has been done, and how all
came to pass. You do not forget our last conversation?”
“Nay, father, my time has probably come, too,” exclaimed
Mabel, who felt just then, as if it would be a relief
to die. “I cannot hope to escape; and Pathfinder would
do well to leave us, and return to the garrison, with the sad
news, while he can.”
“Mabel Dunham,” said Pathfinder, reproachfully, though
he took her hand with kindness, “I have not desarved this;
I know I am wild, and uncouth, and ungainly—”
“Pathfinder!”
“Well—well, we 'll forget it; you did not mean it; you
could not think it. It is useless, now, to talk of escaping,
for the sarjeant cannot be moved; and the block-house must
be defended, cost what it will. May be, Lundie will get the
tidings of our disaster, and send a party to raise the siege.”
“Pathfinder—Mabel!” said the serjeant, who had been
writhing with pain, until the cold sweat stood on his forehead
—“come both to my side. You understand each other, I
hope?”
“Father, say nothing of that—it is all as you wish.”
“Thank God!—Give me your hand, Mabel—here, Pathfinder,
take it. I can do no more than give you the girl in
this way. I know you will make her a kind husband. Do
not wait on account of my death; but there will be a chaplain
in the fort, before the season closes, and let him marry
you at once. My brother, if living, will wish to go back to
his vessel, and then the child will have no protector. Mabel,
your husband will have been my friend, and that will be some
consolation to you, I hope.”
“Trust this matter to me, sarjeant,” put in Pathfinder;
“leave it all in my hands, as your dying request; and depend
on it, all will go as it should.”
“I do—I do put all confidence in you, my trusty friend,
and empower you to act, as I could act, myself, in every
never repent this night. Bless you, my daughter—God bless,
and have you in his holy keeping!”
This tenderness was inexpressibly touching to one of
Mabel's feelings; and she felt at that moment, as if her future
union with Pathfinder had received a solemnization that no
ceremony of the church could render more holy. Still, a
weight, as that of a mountain, lay upon her heart, and she
thought it would be happiness to die. Then followed a short
pause, when the serjeant, in broken sentences, briefly related
what had passed, since he parted with Pathfinder and the
Delaware. The wind had come more favourable, and instead
of encamping on an island, agreeably to the original
intention, he had determined to continue, and reach the station,
that night. Their approach would have been unseen,
and a portion of the calamity avoided, he thought, had they
not grounded on the point of a neighbouring island, where,
no doubt, the noise made by the men, in getting off the boat,
gave notice of their approach, and enabled the enemy to be in
readiness to receive them. They had landed without the
slightest suspicion of danger, though surprised at not finding
a sentinel, and had actually left their arms in the boat, with
the intention of first securing their knapsacks and provisions.
The fire had been so close, that notwithstanding the obscurity,
it was very deadly. Every man had fallen, though two or
three subsequently arose, and disappeared. Four or five of
the soldiers had been killed, or so nearly so, as to survive but
a few minutes; though, for some unknown reason, the enemy
did not make the usual rush for the scalps. Serjeant Dunham
fell with the others; and he had heard the voice of
Mabel, as she rushed from the block-house. This frantic appeal
aroused all his parental feelings, and had enabled him to
crawl as far as the door of the building, where he had raised
himself against the logs, in the manner already mentioned.
After this simple explanation was made, the serjeant was
so weak as to need repose, and his companions, while they
ministered to his wants, suffered some time to pass in silence.
Pathfinder took the occasion to reconnoitre from the loops
and the roof, and he examined the condition of the rifles, of
which there were a dozen kept in the building, the soldiers
having used their regimental muskets in the expedition. But
his breathing, she fancied he slept, she bent her knees and
prayed.
The half hour that succeeded was awfully solemn and
still. The moccasin of Pathfinder was barely heard over
head, and occasionally the sound of the breech of a rifle fell
upon the floor, for he was busied in examining the pieces,
with a view to ascertain the state of their charges, and their
primings. Beyond this nothing was so loud as the breathing
of the wounded man. Mabel's heart yearned to be in communication
with the father she was so soon to lose, and yet
she would not disturb his apparent repose. But Dunham
slept not; he was in that state when the world suddenly loses
its attractions, its illusions, and its power; and the unknown
future fills the mind with its conjectures, its revelations and
its immensity. He had been a moral man for one of his
mode of life, but he had thought little of this all-important
moment. Had the din of battle been ringing in his ears, his
martial ardour might have endured to the end; but there, in
the silence of that nearly untenanted block-house, with no
sound to enliven him, no appeal to keep alive factitious sentiment,
no hope of victory to impel, things began to appear
in their true colours, and this state of being to be estimated at
its just value. He would have given treasures for religious
consolation, and yet he knew not where to turn to seek it. He
thought of Pathfinder, but he distrusted his knowledge. He
thought of Mabel, but for the parent to appeal to the child
for such succour, appeared like reversing the order of nature.
Then it was that he felt the full responsibility of the parental
character, and had some clear glimpses of the manner in
which he himself had discharged the trust towards an orphan
child. While thoughts like these were rising in his mind,
Mabel, who watched the slightest change in his breathing,
heard a guarded knock at the door. Supposing it might be
Chingachgook, she rose, undid two of the bars, and held the
third in her hand, as she asked who was there. The answer
was in her uncle's voice, and he implored her to give him
instant admission. Without an instant of hesitation, she
turned the bar, and Cap entered. He had barely passed the
opening, when Mabel closed the door again, and secured it
of her duties.
The sturdy seaman, when he had made sure of the state
of his brother-in-law, and that Mabel, as well as himself, was
safe, was softened nearly to tears. His own appearance he
explained, by saying that he had been carelessly guarded,
under the impression that he and the Quarter-Master were
sleeping under the fumes of liquor with which they had been
plied with a view to keep them quiet in the expected engagement.
Muir had been left asleep, or seeming to sleep; but
Cap had run into the bushes, on the alarm of the attack, and
having found Pathfinder's canoe, had only succeeded, at that
moment, in getting to the block-house, whither he had come
with the kind intent of escaping with his niece by water. It
is scarcely necessary to say, that he changed his plan, when
he ascertained the state of the serjeant, and the apparent security
of his present quarters.
“If the worst comes to the worst, Master Pathfinder,” he
said, “we must strike, and that will entitle us to receive
quarter. We owe it to our manhood to hold out a reasonable
time, and to ourselves to haul down the ensign in season
to make saving conditions. I wished Master Muir to do the
same thing, when we were captured by these chaps you call
vagabonds,—and rightly are they named, for viler vagabonds
do not walk the earth—”
“You 've found out their characters!” interrupted Pathfinder,
who was always as ready to chime in with abuse of
the Mingos, as with the praises of his friends. “Now, had
you fallen into the hands of the Delawares, you would have
learned the difference.”
“Well, to me, they seem much of a muchness; blackguards
fore and aft, always excepting our friend the Serpent,
who is a gentleman, for an Indian. But, when these savages
made the assault on us, killing Corporal McNab and his men,
as if they had been so many rabbits, Lieutenant Muir and myself
took refuge in one of the holes of this here island, of which
there are so many among the rocks—regular geological underground
burrows made by the water, as the lieutenant says,—and
there we remained stowed away like two leaguers in a ship's
hold, until we gave out for want of grub. A man may say
that grub is the foundation of human nature. I desired the
ourselves for an hour or two in the place, bad as it was; but
he declined, on the ground that the knaves wouldn't keep
faith, if any of them were hurt, and so there was no use in
asking them to. I consented to strike, on two principles;
one, that we might be said to have struck already, for running
below is generally thought to be giving up the ship; and the
other that we had an enemy in our stomachs that was more
formidable in his attacks, than the enemy on deck. Hunger
is a d—ble circumstance, as any man who has lived on it
eight-and-forty hours will acknowledge.”
“Uncle!” said Mabel, in a mournful voice and with an expostulatory
manner, “my poor father is sadly, sadly hurt!”
“True, Magnet, true—I will sit by him, and do my best
at consolation. Are the bars well fastened, girl? for, on such
an occasion, the mind should be tranquil and undisturbed.”
“We are safe, I believe, from all but this heavy blow of
Providence.”
“Well, then, Magnet, do you go up to the floor above, and
try to compose yourself, while Pathfinder runs aloft and
takes a look-out from the cross-trees. Your father may
wish to say something to me, in private, and it may be well
to leave us alone. These are solemn scenes, and inexperienced
people, like myself, do not always wish what they
say to be overheard.”
Although the idea of her uncle's affording religious consolation
by the side of a death-bed, certainly never obtruded
itself on the imagination of Mabel, she thought there might be
a propriety in the request, with which she was unacquainted;
and she complied accordingly. Pathfinder had already
ascended to the roof to make his survey, and the brothers-in-law
were left alone. Cap took a seat by the side of the serjeant,
and bethought him, seriously, of the grave duty he
had before him. A silence of several minutes succeeded,
during which brief space, the mariner was digesting the
substance of his intended discourse.
“I must say, Serjeant Dunham,” Cap at length commenced,
in his peculiar manner, “that there has been mismanagement
somewhere in this unhappy expedition, and,
the present being an occasion when truth ought to be spoken,
and nothing but the truth, I feel it my duty to say as much,
cannot well be two opinions, for, seaman as I am, and no
soldier, I can see several errors myself, that it needs no great
education to detect.”
“What would you have, brother Cap?” returned the other,
in a feeble voice—“what is done, is done; and it is now too
late to remedy it.”
“Very true, brother Dunham, but not to repent of it; the
good book tells us, it is never too late to repent; and I 've
always heard that this is the precious moment. If you 've
any thing on your mind, serjeant, hoist it out freely, for, you
know, you trust it to a friend. You were my own sister's
husband, and poor little Magnet is my own sister's daughter;
and, living or dead, I shall always look upon you as a brother.
It's a thousand pities that you did n't lie off and on,
with the boats, and send a canoe ahead, to reconnoitre; in
which case your command would have been saved, and this
disaster would not have befallen us all. Well, serjeant, we
are all mortal; that is some consolation, I make no doubt;
and if you go before, a little, why, we must fellow. Yes,
that must give him consolation.”
“I know all this, brother Cap; and hope I 'm prepared to
meet a soldier's fate—there is poor Mabel—”
“Ay, ay—that's a heavy drag, I know; but you would n't
take her with you, if you could, serjeant; and so the better
way is to make as light of the separation as you can. Mabel
is a good girl, and so was her mother, before her; she was my
sister, and it shall be my care to see that her daughter gets a
good husband, if our lives and scalps are spared; for I suppose
no one would care about entering into a family that has
no scalps.”
“Brother, my child is betrothed—she will become the wife
of Pathfinder.”
“Well, brother Dunham, every man has his opinions, and
his manner of viewing things; and, to my notion, this match
will be any thing but agreeable to Mabel. I have no objection
to the age of the man; I 'm not one of them that thinks
it necessary to be a boy, to make a girl happy; but on the
whole, I prefer a man of about fifty, for a husband; still,
there ought not to be any circumstance between the parties
to make them unhappy. Circumstances play the devil with
know as much as my niece. You've seen but little of the
girl, serjeant, and have not got the run of her knowledge;
but, let her pay it out freely, as she will do, when she gets
to be thoroughly acquainted, and you 'll fall in with but few
schoolmasters that can keep their luffs in her company.”
“She's a good child—a dear good child,” muttered the
serjeant, his eyes filling with tears—“and it is my misfortune,
that I have seen so little of her.”
“She is, indeed, a good girl, and knows altogether too
much for poor Pathfinder, who is a reasonable man, and an
experienced man, in his own way; but who has no more idea
of the main chance, than you have of spherical trigonometry,
serjeant.”
“Ah! brother Cap, had Pathfinder been with us, in the
boats, this sad affair might not have happened!”
“That is quite likely; for his worst enemy will allow that
the man is a good guide; but, then, serjeant, if the truth
must be spoken, you have managed this expedition in a loose
way, altogether: you should have hove-to off your haven,
and sent in a boat to reconnoitre, as I told you before. That
is a matter to be repented of; and I tell it to you, because
truth, in such a case, ought to be spoken.”
“My errors are dearly paid for, brother; and poor Mabel,
I fear, will be the sufferer. I think, however, that the calamity
would not have happened, had there not been treason.
I fear me, brother, that Jasper Eau-douce has played us
false!”
“That is just my notion; for this fresh-water life must,
sooner or later, undermine any man's morals. Lieutenant
Muir and myself talked this matter over, while we lay in a bit
of a hole, out here, on this island; and we both came to the
conclusion, that nothing short of Jasper's treachery could
have brought us all into this infernal scrape. Well, serjeant,
you had better compose your mind, and think of other matters;
for, when a vessel is about to enter a strange port, it is
more prudent to think of the anchorage inside, than to be under-running
all the events that have turned up, during the
v'yage—there's the log-book, expressly to note all these matters
in; and what stands there, must form the column of
figures that's to be posted up, for or against us. How now,
down the ladder, like an Indian in the wake of a scalp?”
The guide raised a finger for silence, and then beckoned
to Cap to ascend the first ladder, and to allow Mabel to take
his place at the side of the serjeant.
“We must be prudent, and we must be bold, too,” he
said, in a low voice. “The riptyles are in earnest in their
intention to fire the block, for they know there is now nothing
to be gained by letting it stand. I hear the voice of that
vagabond Arrowhead, among them, and he is urging them
to set about their deviltry this very night. We must be
stirring, Salt-water, and doing too. Luckily, there are four
or five barrels of water in the block, and these are something
towards a siege. My reckoning is wrong, too, or we shall
yet reap some advantage from that honest fellow's, the Sarpent,
being at liberty.”
Cap did not wait for a second invitation, but stealing away,
he was soon in the upper room, with Pathfinder, while Mabel
took his post at the side of her father's humble bed. Pathfinder
had opened a loop, having so far concealed the light
that it would not expose him to a treacherous shot, and, expecting
a summons, he stood with his face near the hole,
ready to answer. The stillness that succeeded, was at length
broken by the voice of Muir.
“Master Pathfinder,” called out the Scotchman, “a friend
summons you to a parley. Come freely to one of the loops,
for you 've nothing to fear, so long as you are in converse
with an officer of the 55th.”
“What is your will, Quarter-Master—what is your will?
I know the 55th, and believe it to be a brave regiment, though
I rather incline to the 60th, as my favourite, and to the Delawares
more than to either. But what would you have, Quarter-Master?
It must be a pressing errand that brings you under
the loops of a block-house, at this hour of the night, with
the sartainty of Killdeer's being inside of it.”
“Oh! you 'll no harm a friend, Pathfinder, I'm certain,
and that 's my security. You 're a man of judgment, and
have gained too great a name on this frontier for bravery, to
feel the necessity of fool-hardiness to obtain a character.
You 'll very well understand, my good friend, there is as
much credit to be gained by submitting gracefully, when resistance
contrary to the rules of war. The enemy is too strong for
us, my brave comrade, and I come to counsel you to give up
the block, on condition of being treated as a prisoner of war.”
“I thank you for this advice, Quarter-Master, which is the
more acceptable, as it costs nothing. But, I do not think it
belongs to my gifts to yield a place like this, while food and
water last.”
“Well, I 'd be the last, Pathfinder, to recommend any
thing against so brave a resolution, did I see the means of
maintaining it. But ye 'll remember that Master Cap has
fallen—”
“Not he — not he,” roared the individual in question
through another loop—“so far from that, Lieutenant, he has
risen to the height of this here fortification, and has no mind
to put his head of hair into the hands of such barbers, again,
so long as he can help it. I look upon this block-house as
a circumstance, and have no mind to throw it away.”
“If that is a living voice,” returned Muir, “I am glad to
hear it, for we all thought the man had fallen in the late
fearful confusion! But, master Pathfinder, although ye 're
enjoying the society of your friend Cap, and a great pleasure
do I know it to be, by the experience of two days and a night
passed in a hole in the earth, we 've lost that of Serjeant
Dunham, who has fallen, with all the brave men he led in
the late expedition. Lundie would have it so, though it would
have been more discreet and becoming to send a commissioned
officer in command. Dunham was a brave man,
notwithstanding, and shall have justice done his memory. In
short, we have all acted for the best, and that is as much as
could be said in favour of Prince Eugene, the Duke of Marlborough,
or the great Earl of Stair himself.”
“You 're wrong ag'in, Quarter-Master, you 're wrong
ag'in,” answered Pathfinder, resorting to a ruse to magnify
his force. “The sarjeant is safe in the block too, where one
might say, the whole family is collected.”
“Well, I rejoice to hear it, for we had certainly counted
the serjeant among the slain. If pretty Mabel is in the block
still, let her not delay an instant, for Heaven's sake, in quitting
it, for the enemy is about to put it to the trial by fire.
Ye know the potency of that dread element, and will be acting
allowed to be, in yielding a place you canna' defend,
than in drawing down ruin on yourself and companions.”
“I know the potency of fire, as you call it, Quarter-Master,
and am not to be told, at this late hour, that it can be
used for something else besides cooking a dinner. But, I make
no doubt, you 've heard of the potency of Killdeer, and the
man who attempts to lay a pile of brush against these logs
will get a taste of his power. As for arrows, it is not in
their gift to set this building on fire, for we 've no shingles on
our roof, but good solid logs and green bark, and plenty of
water besides. The roof is so flat, too, as you know yourself,
Quarter-Master, that we can walk on it, and so no danger
on that score while water lasts. I 'm peaceable enough
if let alone, but he who endivours to burn this block over my
head will find the fire squinched in his own blood.”
“This is idle and romantic talk, Pathfinder, and ye 'll no
maintain it yourself when ye come to meditate on the realities.
I hope ye 'll no gainsay the loyalty or the courage of
the 55th, and I feel convinced that a council of war would
decide on the propriety of a surrender forthwith. Na'—na'
—Pathfinder, foolhardiness is na' mair like the bravery o'
Wallace or Bruce, than Albany on the Hudson is like the
old town of Edinbro'.”
“As each of us seems to have made up his mind, Quarter-Master,
more words are useless. If the riptyles near you
are disposed to set about their hellish job, let them begin at
once. They can burn wood and I 'll burn powder. If I
were an Indian at the stake, I suppose I could brag as well
as the rest of them, but my gifts and natur' being both white,
my turn is rather for doing than talking. You 've said quite
enough, considering you carry the king's commission; and
should we all be consumed, none of us will bear you any
malice.”
“Pathfinder, ye 'll no be exposing Mabel, pretty Mabel
Dunham, to sic' a calamity!”
“Mabel Dunham is by the side of her wounded father,
and God will care for the safety of a pious child. Not a
hair of her head shall fall, while my arm and sight remain
true; and though you may trust the Mingos, Master Muir, I
put no faith in them. You 've a knavish Tuscarora in your
character of any tribe with which he consorts, though he
found the Mingos ready ruined to his hands, I fear. But,
enough said; now let each party go to the use of his means
and his gifts.”
Throughout this dialogue Pathfinder had kept his body
covered, lest a treacherous shot should be aimed at the loop;
and he now directed Cap to ascend to the roof in order to be
in readiness to meet the first assault. Although the latter
used sufficient diligence, he found no less than ten blazing
arrows sticking to the bark, while the air was filled with the
yells and whoops of the enemy. A rapid discharge of rifles
followed, and the bullets came pattering against the logs, in
a way to show that the struggle had indeed seriously commenced.
These were sounds, however, that appalled neither Pathfinder
nor Cap, while Mabel was too much absorbed in her
affliction to feel alarm. She had good sense enough, too, to
understand the nature of the defences, and fully to appreciate
their importance. As for her father, the familiar noises
revived him, and it pained his child, at such a moment, to
see that his glassy eye began to kindle, and that the blood
returned to a cheek it had deserted, as he listened to the uproar.
It was now Mabel first perceived that his reason began
slightly to wander.
“Order up the light companies,” he muttered, “and let the
grenadiers charge! Do they dare to attack us in our fort?
Why does not the artillery open on them?”
At that instant, the heavy report of a gun burst on the
night; and the crashing of rending wood was heard, as a
heavy shot tore the logs in the room above, and the whole
block shook with the force of a shell that lodged in the work.
The Pathfinder narrowly escaped the passage of this formidable
missile, as it entered; but when it exploded, Mabel
could not suppress a shriek; for she supposed all over her
head, whether animate or inanimate, destroyed. To increase
her horror, her father shouted, in a frantic voice, to
“charge!”
“Mabel,” said Pathfinder, with his head at the trap, “this
is true Mingo work—more noise than injury. The vagabonds
have got the howitzer we took from the French, and
have fired off the only shell we had, and there is an ind of
its use, for the present. There is some confusion among the
stores up in this loft, but no one is hurt. Your uncle is still
on the roof; and as for myself, I 've run the gauntlet of too
many rifles to be skeary about such a thing as a howitzer,
and that in Indian hands.”
Mabel murmured her thanks, and tried to give all her attention
to her father; whose efforts to rise were only counteracted
by his debility. During the fearful minutes that
succeeded, she was so much occupied with the care of the
invalid, that she scarce heeded the clamour that reigned
around her. Indeed, the uproar was so great, that, had
not her thoughts been otherwise employed, confusion of faculties,
rather than alarm, would probably have been the
consequence.
Cap preserved his coolness admirably. He had a profound
and increasing respect for the power of the savages,
and even for the majesty of fresh-water, it is true; but his
apprehensions of the former proceeded more from his dread
of being scalped and tortured, than from any unmanly fear
of death: and, as he was now on the deck of a house, if not
on the deck of a ship, and knew that there was little danger of
boarders, he moved about with a fearlessness, and a rash exposure
of his person, that Pathfinder, had he been aware of
the fact, would have been the first to condemn. Instead of
keeping his body covered, agreeably to the usages of Indian
warfare, he was seen on every part of the roof, dashing the
water right and left, with the apparent steadiness and unconcern
he would have manifested had he been a sail-trimmer,
exercising his art, in a battle afloat His appearance was
one of the causes of the extraordinary clamour among the
assailants; who, unused to see their enemies so reckless,
opened upon him with their tongues, like the pack that has
the fox in view. Still he appeared to possess a charmed
life; for, though the bullets whistled around him on every
side, and his clothes were several times torn, nothing cut his
skin. When the shell passed through the logs below, the
old sailor dropped his bucket, waved his hat, and gave three
cheers; in which heroic act he was employed, as the dangerous
missile exploded. This characteristic feat probably
fire at him, and even to shoot their flaming arrows at the
block—having taken up the notion simultaneously, and by
common consent, that the “Salt-water” was mad; and it was
a singular effect of their magnanimity, never to lift a hand
against those whom they imagined devoid of reason.
The conduct of Pathfinder was very different. Everything
he did was regulated by the most exact calculation—
the result of long experience, and habitual thoughtfulness.
His person was kept carefully out of a line with the loops,
and the spot that he selected for his look-out was one that
was quite removed from danger. This celebrated guide
had often been known to lead forlorn hopes; he had once
stood at the stake, suffering under the cruelties and taunts
of savage ingenuity, and savage ferocity, without quailing:
and legends of his exploits, coolness, and daring, were to be
heard all along that extensive frontier, or wherever men
dwelt, and men contended. But, on this occasion, one who
did not know his history and character, might have thought
his exceeding care, and studied attention to self-preservation,
proceeded from an unworthy motive. But such a judge
would not have understood his subject. The Pathfinder bethought
him of Mabel, and of what might possibly be the
consequences to that poor girl, should any casualty befal
himself. But the recollection rather quickened his intellect,
than changed his customary prudence. He was, in fact,
one of those who was so unaccustomed to fear, that he
never bethought him of the constructions others might put
upon his conduct. But, while, in moments of danger, he
acted with the wisdom of the serpent, it was also with the
simplicity of a child.
For the first ten minutes of the assault, Pathfinder never
raised the breech of his rifle from the floor, except when he
changed his own position, for he well knew that the bullets
of the enemy were thrown away upon the massive logs of
the work; and, as he had been at the capture of the howitzer,
he felt certain that the savages had no other shell than
the one found in it when the piece was taken. There existed
no reason, therefore, to dread the fire of the assailants, except
as a casual bullet might find a passage through a loop-hole.
One or two of these accidents did occur, but the balls entered
injury, so long as the Indians kept near the block; and, if
discharged from a distance, there was scarcely the possibility
of one in a hundred's striking the apertures. But, when
Pathfinder heard the sound of moccasined feet, and the rustling
of brush at the foot of the building, he knew that the
attempt to build a fire against the logs was about to be renewed.
He now summoned Cap from the roof, where indeed
all the danger had ceased, and directed him to stand in readiness
with his water, at a hole immediately over the spot
assailed.
One less trained than our hero, would have been in a hurry
to repel this dangerous attempt also, and might have resorted
to his means prematurely; not so with Pathfinder. His aim
was not only to extinguish the fire, about which he felt little
apprehension, but to give the enemy a lesson that would render
him wary during the remainder of the night. In order
to effect the latter purpose, it became necessary to wait until
the light of the intended conflagration should direct his aim,
when he well knew that a very slight effort of his skill would
suffice. The Iroquois were permitted to collect their heap
of dried bush, to pile it against the block, to light it, and to
return to their covers, without molestation. All that Pathfinder
would suffer Cap to do was to roll a barrel filled with
water to the hole immediately over the spot, in readiness to
be used at the proper instant. That moment, however, did
not arrive, in his judgment, until the blaze illuminated the
surrounding bushes, and there had been time for his quick
and practised eye to detect the forms of three or four lurking
savages, who were watching the progress of the flames, with
the cool indifference of men accustomed to look on human
misery with apathy. Then indeed he spoke.
“Are you ready, friend Cap?” he asked. “The heat begins
to strike through the crevices, and, although these green
logs are not of the fiery natur' of an ill-tempered man,
they may be kindled into a blaze if one provokes them too
much. Are you ready with the barrel?—See that it has the
right cut, and that none of the water is wasted.”
“All ready—” answered Cap, in the manner in which a
seaman replies to such a demand.
“Then wait for the word. Never be over-impatient in a
critical time, nor fool-risky in a battle. Wait for the word.”
While the Pathfinder was giving these directions, he was
also making his own preparations, for he saw it was time to
act. Killdeer was deliberately raised, pointed, and discharged.
The whole process occupied about half a minute, and, as
the rifle was drawn in, the eye of the marksman was applied
to the hole.
“There is one riptyle the less—” Pathfinder muttered to
himself—“I 've seen that vagabond afore, and know him to
be a marciless devil. Well, well; the man acted according
to his gifts, and he has been rewarded according to his gifts.
One more of the knaves, and that will sarve the turn for to-night.
When day-light appears, we may have hotter work.”
All this time, another rifle was getting ready; and as Pathfinder
ceased, a second savage fell. This, indeed, sufficed;
for, indisposed to wait for a third visitation from the same
hand, the whole band, which had been crouching in the
bushes around the block, ignorant of who was, and who was
not exposed to view, leaped from their covers, and fled to different
places for safety.
“Now, pour away, Master Cap,” said Pathfinder—“I 've
made my mark on the blackguards; and we shall have no
no more fires lighted to-night.”
“Scaldings!” cried Cap, upsetting the barrel, with a care,
that at once, and completely extinguished the flames.
This ended the singular conflict; and the remainder of the
night passed in peace. Pathfinder and Cap watched alternately,
though neither can be said to have slept. Sleep, indeed,
scarcely seemed necessary to them, for both were
accustomed to protracted watchings; and there were seasons
and times, when the former appeared to be literally
insensible to the demands of hunger and thirst, and callous
to the effects of fatigue.
Mabel watched by her father's pallet, and began to feel
how much our happiness, in this world, depends even on
things that are imaginary. Hitherto, she had virtually lived
without a father, the connexion with her remaining parent
being ideal, rather than positive; but, now that she was about
to lose him, she thought, for the moment, that the world
would be a void after his death, and that she could never be
acquainted with happiness again.
| CHAPTER IX. The pathfinder, or, The inland sea | |