University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

A piercing shrick, which met the ear of Dudley, upon
his entrance, announced some new calamity. A little
boy, scarce two years old, had been lost in the confusion
of the flight, and his mother, borne along by her
impetuous companions, had been unable to make her
vociferations understood until they reached the fort.
Upbraiding herself, upbraiding her friends, and vainly
struggling to escape from their grasp and fly back to
the rescue, the frantic parent rent every heart with her
cries. The moonlight still remaining unobscured, the
infant, on examination, was distinctly seen, about twelve
rods distant, seated quietly upon the grass, and
playing with the flowers, unconscious of danger. The
discovery was made none too soon. An Indian, prone
upon the ground, now lying motionless, like a log, and
now approaching the child with a slow and cat-like
gait, was at the same instant discovered, while the
whole band at a safe distance were silently watching
his hazardous attempt. A dozen rifles were at once
leveled at the miscreant, when Dudley interposed:

“For shame!” he said, “will you let one worthless
dog draw your whole fire, and ensure the capture of
the child, while we are re-loading? The game is Lee's
by discovery. Rogers will stand ready to fire next, if
necessary; and if both fail, leave the scoundrel to me.”

Uncle Lee, as he was familiarly called, smiled as he
raised his unerring gun, and its quick report was accompanied

by a yell that seemed to proclaim the success
of the shot. The Indian started from his recumbent
position, and then fell heavily backward.

“If he were a Christian now, we might suppose him
dead,” exclaimed Rogers, who had watched the effect
of Lee's shot with a look of chagrin, “but I have my
doubts. Captain,” he said, addressing Dudley, and
raising his gun beseechingly, “that fall was a little too
theatrical.”

“Do n't you go to shooting dead men, Mr. Rogers,”
exclaimed Lee, “I tell you I have killed him.”

Dudley, whose suspicions from the first had been the
same as those of Rogers, made a signal to the latter to
fire, which he had no sooner done than the dead man
rose to his feet, with a screech that could not be misunderstood,
then sinking gradually to his knee, he fell
shivering to the ground, with indubitable signs of death.

Rogers smiled grimly as he retorted upon his companion:

“'T is n't much to kill an Indian, Mr. Lee; it 's the
bringing him to life again that shows the skill.”

If any doubt had been entertained of the fatality of
the last fire, the yell of wrath which arose from the Indians,
and the volley which was discharged at the helpless
infant, would have effectually dispelled them. But
the distance which the cowardly assailants were compelled
to keep, and the minuteness of the mark, fortunately
rendered their fire innocuous. It was evident,
however, that the child in so exposed a situation, could
not long escape.

“It is a shame,” said Dudley, “that a helpless babe
should perish, and twelve strong men look idly on. I
myself will save him.”

Thus saying, he threw down his gun, that nothing
might retard his speed, and prepared to rush out. But
the firm grasp of Lee was on his shoulder.

“It is certain death,” said the old man; “you will be
a mark for thirty rifles.”

“And if it were thirty thousand, I would go,” retorted
Dudley, inpetuously, and tearing himself away.

But at this moment, a singular apparition entered the
room, which, whether or not it was anything more than
a huge tin Dutch oven, surmounted by an inverted pail
of the same material, was certainly nothing less. It required
a little investigation to perceive signs of a human
being under this extraordinary coat of mail, but
in a moment more, a voice proceeding from under the
kettle, proclaimed a well-known slave of Lee's by the
name of Nando. Merely announcing his object, the
faithful negro darted out of the house, and, presenting
his shielded side to the enemy, ran hastily toward the
child.

There was one moment of fearful suspense; a yell, a
volley, and a responsive shout of derision from the
slave. At the next, Nando bent over the wondering
child, thrust him hastily within his capacious shield,
and, rushing rapidly back, reached the house in safety.

The cordial greetings, the welcoming grasp, the wet
eyes, and the warm out-pourings of a mother's gratitude
that here encountered him, astonished and bewildered
the heroic African; while the marred and battered
utensil, told eloquently the tale of his danger and
his daring.