第37章

"All trained warriors and soldiers.And at the best we cannot raise more than three hundreds including old men and boys, and our men, too, are farmers.""But we can beat them.Only give us a chance, Colonel!"exclaimed Captain Ransom.

"I'm afraid the chance will come too soon," said Colonel Butler, and then turning to the five: "Help us all you can.We need scouts and riflemen.Come to the fort for any food and ammunition you may need."The five gave their most earnest assurances that they would stay, and do all in their power.In fact, they had come for that very purpose.Satisfied now that Colonel Butler and his officers had implicit faith in them they went forth to find that, despite the night and the darkness, fugitives were already crossing the river to seek refuge in Forty Fort, bringing with them tales of death and devastation, some of which were exaggerated, but too many true in all their hideous details.Men had been shot and scalped in the fields, houses were burning, women and children were captives for a fate that no one could foretell.Red ruin was already stalking down the valley.

The farmers were bringing their wives and children in canoes and dugouts across the river.Here and there a torch light flickered on the surface of the stream, showing the pale faces of the women and children, too frightened to cry.They had fled in haste, bringing with them only the clothes they wore and maybe a blanket or two.The borderers knew too well what Indian war was, with all its accompaniments of fire and the stake.

Henry and his comrades helped nearly all that night.They secured a large boat and crossed the river again and again, guarding the fugitives with their rifles, and bringing comfort to many a timid heart.Indian bands had penetrated far into the Wyoming Valley, but they felt sure that none were yet in the neighborhood of Forty Fort.

It was about three o'clock in the morning when the last of the fugitives who had yet come was inside Forty Fort, and the labors of the five, had they so chosen, were over for the time.But their nerves were tuned to so high a pitch, and they felt so powerfully the presence of danger, that they could not rest, nor did they have any desire for sleep.

The boat in which they sat was a good one, with two pairs of oars.It had been detailed for their service, and they decided to pull up the river.They thought it possible that they might see the advance of the enemy and bring news worth the telling.

Long Jim and Tom Ross took the oars, and their powerful arms sent the boat swiftly along in the shadow of the western bank.Henry and Paul looked back and saw dim lights at the fort and a few on either shore.The valley, the high mountain wall, and everything else were merged in obscurity.

Both the youths were oppressed heavily by the sense of danger, not for themselves, but for others.In that Kentucky of theirs, yet so new, few people lived beyond the palisades, but here were rich and scattered settlements; and men, even in the face of great peril, are always loth to abandon the homes that they have built with so much toil.

Tom Ross and Long Jim continued to pull steadily with the long strokes that did not tire them, and the lights of the fort and houses sank out of sight.Before them lay the somber surface of the rippling river, the shadowy hills, and silence.The world seemed given over to the night save for themselves, but they knew too well to trust to such apparent desertion.At such hours the Indian scouts come, and Henry did not doubt that they were already near, gathering news of their victims for the Indian and Tory horde.Therefore, it was the part of his comrades and himself to use the utmost caution as they passed up the river.

They bugged the western shore, where they were shadowed by banks and bushes, and now they went slowly, Long Jim and Tom Ross drawing their oars so carefully through the water that there was never a plash to tell of their passing.Henry was in the prow of the boat, bent forward a little, eyes searching the surface of the river, and ears intent upon any sound that might pass on the bank.Suddenly he gave a little signal to the rowers and they let their oars rest.

"Bring the boat in closer to the bank," he whispered.Push it gently among those bushes where we cannot be seen from above."Tom and Jim obeyed.The boat slid softly among tall bushes that shadowed the water, and was hidden completely.Then Henry stepped out, crept cautiously nearly up the bank, which was here very low, and lay pressed closely against the earth, but supported by the exposed root of a tree.He had heard voices, those of Indians, he believed, and he wished to see.Peering through a fringe of bushes that lined the bank he saw seven warriors and one white face sitting under the boughs of a great oak.The face was that of Braxton Wyatt, who was now in his element, with a better prospect of success than any that he had ever known before.Henry shuddered, and for a moment he regretted that he had spared Wyatt's life when he might have taken it.

But Henry was lying against the bank to hear what these men might be saying, not to slay.Two of the warriors, as he saw by their paint, were Wyandots, and he understood the Wyandot tongue.

Moreover, his slight knowledge of Iroquois came into service, and gradually he gathered the drift of their talk.Two miles nearer Forty Fort was a farmhouse one of the Wyandots had seen it-not yet abandoned by its owner, who believed that his proximity to Forty Fort assured his safety.He lived there with his wife and five children, and Wyatt and the Indians planned to raid the place before daylight and kill them all.Henry had heard enough.

He slid back from the bank to the water and crept into the boat.

"Pull back down the river as gently as you can," he whispered, "and then I'll tell you."The skilled oarsmen carried the boat without a splash several hundred yards down the stream, and then Henry told the others of the fiendish plan that he had heard.