The Riflemen of the Ohio Part 26

Henry talked to him earnestly, but the Major shook his head.

"Too dangerous!" he said. "You would all be lost. I cannot sanction such an enterprise. The fort cannot spare good men, nor could I let you go in this way to your death."

Henry talked more earnestly. He urged the necessity, the cruel necessity, of such an attempt, and the Major yielded at last, although with great reluctance.

"You want volunteers, I suppose?" he said.

"Yes. I know that Seth Cole will go, and I'm sure that others, too, will be willing to do so."

The remainder of the day pa.s.sed without any demonstration from the besiegers, and Henry noticed with pleasure that the coming night promised to be dark. Already he had selected his a.s.sistants, Seth Cole and four others, all powerful swimmers, but the enterprise was kept a secret among the six and Major Braithwaite.

He ate a hearty supper, lay down and slept a while. When he awoke, he found that the promise of the night was fulfilled. It was quite dark, with clouds and light flurries of rain. There was no moon.

It was past midnight, and the Indian encampment, both on land and water, showed no sign of movement. The woods were without camp fires, but at the far bank of the river several lights could be seen. The river itself was in shadow. Most of the people at the fort, exhausted by their long labors and watches, were asleep, but Henry and his five comrades gathered near the spring, carrying with them three little iron pots, carefully covered with tin tops.

"It's a pity we haven't two or three hand grenades," said Major Braithwaite. "These are rather c.u.mbrous things."

"I've heard Paul say that they used pots like these in ancient times,"

said Henry, "and I guess that if they did so, we can, too. What do you say, Seth?"

"I'm thinkin' that we kin," said Seth confidently. "Leastways, I'm thinkin' that we're ready to try."

"That is surely the right spirit," said Major Braithwaite, with a little tremor in his voice. "You lads are about to embark upon a desperate undertaking. I would not say that the chances are against you, if you did not know it already, but there is nothing truer than the fact that fortune favors those who dare much. I pray that all of you may come back."

He shook hands with them all, and stood by the palisade as, one by one, they climbed over it and dropped into the dark.

Henry and his five comrades on the outside of the palisade remained for a little s.p.a.ce crouched against the wooden wall. All six searched the thickets on the slope with eye and ear, but they could neither see nor hear anything that betokened the presence of an enemy. It was not likely that Indian scouts would be lying in such a place, practically hanging to the side of the cliff between the palisade and the river, but Henry was not willing to neglect any precaution. The slightest mischance would ruin all. He gave silent but devout thanks that this night of all nights should prove to be so dark.

It was a singular file that made its way down the cliff through the thick brush, six dusky figures carrying rifles, and three of them, in addition, gingerly bearing small iron pots. When nearly to the bottom of the cliff their singularity increased. They stopped in a little alcove of the rocks, hid their rifles and ammunition among the bushes, took off every particle of clothing, all of which they hid, also, except their belts.

They buckled the belts tightly around their bare waists, but every belt carried in it a tomahawk and hunting knife. They still bore the three little iron pots which they handled so gingerly.

Six white figures slipped through the remaining bushes, six white figures reached the edge of the river, and then all six slid silently into the water, which received them and enveloped them to the chin.

Henry, Seth Cole, and a man named Tom Wilmore bore the three iron pots above their heads, swimming with a single hand.

CHAPTER XV

THE DEED IN THE DARK

Henry was the leading swimmer, but he paused ten yards from the sh.o.r.e and the others paused with him. Six black dots hung in a row on the dark surface of the river. But so well did they blend with the shadow of the stream that an Indian eye on the bank, no matter how sharp, might have pa.s.sed them over.

"The thing to do," said Henry, "is to make no noise. We must swim without splas.h.i.+ng and we've got to find that flatboat with the cannon on it. You understand?"

Not a word was said in reply, but five heads nodded, and the silent six resumed their swim across the Ohio. They had entered the stream as far up as possible in order that they might go diagonally toward the south, thus taking advantage of the current.

Henry turned over on his back, floating easily with the help of one hand and holding the little pot above his face. Once he opened it a little to feel that it was still warm from within, and, satisfied that it was so, he floated silently on. His position made it easiest for him to look upward, but not much was to be seen there. The promise of the night still held good in performance. Rolling clouds hid the moon and stars, and again Henry gave thanks for so favorable a night.

His comrades swam so silently that he turned a little on his side to see that they were there. Five black dots on the water followed him in a close row, and, proud of their skill, he turned back again and still floated with his face to the skies.

They soon pa.s.sed the middle of the river, and now the extremely delicate part of their task was come. The lights on the northern bank had increased to a half dozen and were much larger. They seemed to be camp fires. Dim outlines of canoes appeared against the bank.

Henry paused, and the five black heads behind him paused with him. He raised his head a little from the water and studied the sh.o.r.e. A shape, bigger and darker than the others, told him where the flatboat lay.

Owing to its greater draught, it was anch.o.r.ed in deeper water than the canoes, which was a fortunate thing for the daring adventurers. Henry saw the muzzles of the cannon, and a dark figure by each, evidently the warriors on guard. He could see them, but they could not see him and his comrades, whose heads were blurred with the darkness of the river. He turned on his side and whispered to Seth, who was next to him:

"I think we'd better swim above the flatboat, keeping at a good distance, and then drop down between it and the bank. They will not be expecting an enemy from that side. What do you think of it, Seth?"

Seth Cole nodded, and they swam silently up stream. If any one splashed the water it pa.s.sed for the splash of a leaping fish, and there was no alarm in the Indian camp. Henry, studying the sh.o.r.e minutely as he swam with slow stroke, could not see motion anywhere. The fires burned low, and now that they were dropping down near the sh.o.r.e he saw the dim outlines of figures beside them. Some of the warriors slept in a sitting posture with their heads upon their knees, which were clasped in their arms, while others lay in their blankets. The canoes, in which Indians also slept, were tied to saplings on the bank.

They swam now with the greatest slowness, barely making a stroke, drifting rather. Henry knew that not all the warriors on the bank were asleep. Sentinels stood somewhere among the trees, and it was hard to escape the vigilance of an Indian on watch. Only a night of unusual darkness made an approach such as theirs possible.

A broad shape rose out of the obscurity. It was the flatboat, now not twenty feet away, and Henry paused a moment, the five heads pausing with him.

"n.o.body is watching on this side of the boat," whispered the youthful leader, "and it will not be hard to climb over the side. We must all do so at once and make a rush."

"I'm thinkin' you're right," Seth Cole whispered back.

They headed straight for the flatboat and each put a hand upon its side.

A Miami sentinel on the bank heard a splash a little louder than usual, and he saw a gleam of white in the water beside the flatboat.

The Miami sprang forward for a better look, but he was not in time. Six white figures rose from the water. Six white figures gave a mighty heave, and the next moment they were upon the deck. The sentinels, looking toward the middle of the river, heard the sound of light, pattering footsteps behind them, and wheeled about. Despite their courage, they uttered a cry of superst.i.tious horror. Surely these white, unclad figures were ghosts, or G.o.ds come down from the skies! One in his fright sprang overboard, but the other, recovering himself somewhat, fired at the foremost of the invaders. His bullet missed, and Henry, not noticing him, rushed toward the little cabin. Here he saw some bedding, evidently taken with the boat from its former owners, and he emptied the coals from the iron pot among it. A blaze instantly sprang up and spread with great rapidity. Despite the heat, Henry scattered the burning cloth everywhere with a canoe paddle that lay on the floor. Seth Cole and Tom Wilmore were also setting the boat on fire in a half dozen places.

The flames roared around them, and then they rushed upon the deck, where the sounds of conflict had begun. There were renegades as well as Indians upon the boat, and both soon realized that the invaders were human beings, not spirits or ghosts. Several shots were fired. A man from Fort Prescott was slightly wounded in the shoulder, and the red blood was streaking his white skin. But one of the invaders had used his tomahawk to terrible purpose--the figure of a warrior lay motionless upon the deck.

As Henry sprang to the relief of his comrades he ran directly into some one. The two recoiled, but their faces were then not more than a foot apart, and Henry recognized Braxton Wyatt. Wyatt knew him, too, and exclaimed: "Henry Ware!" He had been sleeping upon the boat and instantly he raised a pistol to make an end of the one whom he hated.

Henry had no time to draw tomahawk or knife, but before the trigger could be pulled he seized the renegade in the powerful clasp of his bare arms.

The excitement of the moment, the imminence of the crisis, gave a superhuman strength to the great youth. He lifted Braxton Wyatt from his feet, whirled him into the air, and then sent him like a stone from a sling into the deep water of the Ohio. The renegade uttered a cry as he sank, but when he came up again he struggled for the sh.o.r.e, not for the boat. The renegade McKee had already been driven overboard, and the Indians, who alone were left on the boat, felt their superst.i.tion returning when they saw Braxton Wyatt tossed into the river as if by the hand of omnipotence. The flames, too, had gained great headway, and were now roaring high above the deck and the heat was increasing fast. If these were devils--and devils they certainly must be!--they had brought with them fire which could not be fought.

The Indians hesitated no longer, and the last of them, leaping overboard, swam for the land.

"It's time for us to go, too," said Henry to his panting comrades.

"They'll get over their fright in a minute or two and be after us."

"I'm thinkin' you're right," said Seth Cole, "but nothin' kin save this boat now. She must be an old one. She burns so fast."

Henry sprang into the river and the five followed him, swimming with their utmost power toward the southern sh.o.r.e. They heard behind them the crackling of the flames, and a crimson light was cast upon the water.

Henry looked back over his shoulder. The boat was blazing, but the light from it reached his comrades and himself. The Indians on the bank saw them. Hasty bullets began to flick the water near them. Canoes were already starting in chase.

"If that light keeps up, they're bound to git us," said Seth Cole.

"But it won't keep up," said Henry. "Swim, boys! Swim with all your might! It's not Indians alone that we've got to dodge!"

Tired as they were, they increased their speed by a supreme effort for a minute or so, and then as if by the same impulse all looked back. The boat was a ma.s.s of flame, a huge core of light, casting a brilliant reflection far out over the river and upon the bank, where trees, bushes, and warriors alike stood out in the red flare.