The Cryptogram Part 20

It was the same on the north side of the fort. The Indians had not retreated, but they were repulsed and disheartened, and were in no mood for further sacrifice. They lay hidden behind drifted snow and stumps, taking wary shots whenever they fancied they saw an opportunity.

Now we had time to breathe--time to take a welcome spell of rest after our hard struggle. We were all parched and powder grimed, and some of us were bandaging slight wounds. And the victory had cost us dear. Three sorely-hurt men had been carried off to the hospital, and among the dozen or more slain savages who lay in ghastly att.i.tudes on the trampled, blood-soaked snow were four of our plucky defenders, who would never lift musket again. It was a hideous, revolting sight, and the raging storm, the murky gray of the night, lent an added horror to it.

The semi-lull continued, and little attention was paid to the straggling fire of the Indians, though sharp eyes were watching from the tower.

Griffith Hawke came up to where I was leaning, breathing hard, on the barrel of my musket.

"Thank G.o.d you are all right, my boy!" he said hoa.r.s.ely. "I never expected those devils would get over the stockade. It was Heaven's mercy that enabled us to drive them off; but we have lost heavily."

"Severely, indeed," I a.s.sented. "And so have the Indians. I doubt if they will try that game again. And what was the result at the north side, sir? I believe you had desperate fighting there at the same time."

"Not so bad as here," the factor replied; "but pretty nearly. The Indians broke in, but our fellows were getting the best of it when I left to help you. Menzies was in charge, and--ah! here he comes now."

The big Scotchman was loading his musket as he approached. He limped badly--a gunstock had struck him on the thigh--and he had a flesh wound in his left arm. He anxiously inquired how many we had lost, and when I told him, he shook his head gravely.

"I have three dead over yonder," he replied, "and twice as many disabled. The garrison is reduced by nearly a third, and the savages are fighting recklessly! I greatly fear, Hawke, that if they rush the stockade again--"

"We'll beat them off twice, thrice, four times if need be," the factor interrupted. "At the worst, we are likely to have a long siege of it."

He spoke cheerfully and confidently, but none the less I saw a haggard, strained look in his face, as he glanced toward the flickering light in Flora's window.

By this time the firing was taking a brisker turn, and the three of us separated, Hawke and Menzies striding across to the north side of the inclosure. I went to my old place, and there I remained for a trying half-hour.

Trying is a poor word for the sort of warfare the Indians carried on during that interval. They were scattered about thickly to north and east of the fort, and within close range, but each warrior was cunningly concealed behind a stump or a snow hillock.

How they could see so well is a mystery, but certain it is that they brought their muskets to bear on every loophole of the stockade and the tower. The storm was raging bitterly, but in their furred garments their hide moccasins and leggings, they defied the exposure.

At the first we lost a man killed, and had three wounded. Then we grew more careful, and reconnoitered from what little crevices we could find before we ventured on a shot. Those who had no loopholes kept loading spare muskets and pa.s.sing them to us, taking our own as soon as we fired. I had several narrow escapes, but by watching for the spurts of flame and smoke and for the limbs that now and then showed darkly against the snow, I killed or disabled half a dozen of the enemy.

Baptiste was on my right, and just beyond him was Captain Rudstone.

There was one diversion during the time I speak of, and that from the west side of the fort, where a great clamor of firing and whooping suddenly broke out. I did not dare to leave my post--I was virtually in charge of the east stockade--but Captain Rudstone led half a dozen men to the disturbed quarter. The scrimmage was quickly over, and when the captain returned I got a report from him.

"It's all right," he said. "The devils rushed us, but we drove them back by volleys from the loopholes, killing half a score and losing one ourselves. The ground dips down to the fort there, and we had a clean sweep. They won't molest us on that side again--it was a half-hearted attack, anyway."

"I wish they would drop the whole thing," I replied bitterly.

Captain Rudstone shrugged his shoulders.

"You would be a fool to expect it, Carew," he said. "I am not a bird of ill-omen, but, by Heaven! the redskins are determined to hang on till they take the fort."

"They'll have a wait," said I.

"That's as maybe," the captain rejoined. "If there were only the Indians to reckon with! But Northwest men are among them, cleverly disguised; and I doubt not Cuthbert Mackenzie is one of them."

"I am sure of it," I a.s.serted.

"He is after revenge--and Miss Hatherton," the captain went on. "And to my mind, it is a toss up which will make the girl the happier--Mackenzie or Hawke."

I turned on him fiercely, and I could have struck him with pleasure; he seemed to take a malicious delight in probing my heart wound.

"Is this a time to talk of such things?" I cried. "I wish to hear none of it, Captain Rudstone. Miss Hatherton is nothing to me!"

The captain laughed--a low, sneering laugh--and just then an Indian bullet sang between us.

"A close shave!" he muttered, as he strode off to his loophole.

I turned to mine, and it partly relieved my feelings to get a shot at a feathered scalp-lock, that was bobbing behind a tuft of bushes twenty feet away. I aimed true, and with a convulsive leap a warrior fell sprawling in the open.

My success stirred the savages up a little, drawing a chorus of vengeful whoops, and a straggling shower of lead that pelted the stockade like hail.

Then the fire ceased almost entirely, ami after waiting and watching for five minutes, I concluded to leave my post temporarily and have a look about the fort.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE SECOND RUSH.

I went first to the highest watch-tower, the occupants of which had been better protected than those at the stockade, but for all that I found one poor fellow dead and another badly wounded. Such a true and steady fire had been poured at the loopholes, I was told, that it was as much as the men's lives were worth to expose themselves sufficiently to take aim. I looked out for a moment, but though I could see vaguely through the driving snow to the dark line of the forest, not an Indian was in sight.

"They have not retreated?" I asked.

"Not them, sir," a grizzled voyageur remarked, with emphasis. "Every clump of bushes, every stump and snow heap, has a lurking redskin behind it. And the woods yonder are full of 'em, too."

He had hardly spoken when there was a flash and a report off to the left, followed quickly by one from the right. Both shots were aimed at the stockade loopholes, but they seemed to strike harmlessly, and drew no reply from our men.

"Consarn the devils!" growled the voyageur as he peered into the night.

"They don't show as much as a feather tip."

"They ain't lying so long in the snow for nothing," added another man.

"They'll be at us again with a rush presently."

"I am afraid they will," I a.s.sented. "Keep a sharp lookout and give us timely warning."

With that I left the tower and walked along the north side of the fort.

I was glad to observe that the men were in confident and even cheerful spirits. Some were loading muskets, while others were bringing bullets and canisters of powder, and, what was more urgently needed at present, pannikins of steaming hot coffee. The latter, I ascertained, came from the factor's house, and I had no doubt that it was due to the womanly forethought of Flora and Mrs. Menzies.

I could not find Father Cleary, and on making inquiries I learned that he was with the wounded, who had all been taken to the hastily improvised hospital in the men's quarters. I was told that he had stuck to his post through the fighting, and had done as good and valorous service as any man in the fort.

Mr. Christopher Burley I came upon seated astride of an empty cask, with his musket across his knees. His cap was gone, and his hair was awry; he was scarcely recognizable for a mask of perspiration and powder grime.

"I congratulate you," I said, "on keeping a sound skin."

"The same to you," he replied. "It was indeed a severe and b.l.o.o.d.y fight.

I bore your advice in mind Mr. Carew, and I have fired six shots without discomfort."

"To what purpose?" I inquired.