In the Days of Washington Part 16

The rest of the sentence was drowned by one blood-curdling whoop that rang with awful shrillness through the silent wood. Another and another followed, and the glimmer of a torch was seen coming over a knoll at a furlong's s.p.a.ce behind the fugitives.

"The Senecas are hot on the trail!" cried Barnabas, "an' their keen ears have heard us. On for the river! It's our last chance!"

CHAPTER XII

IN WHICH A MYSTERIOUS ISLAND PLAYS A PART

Barnabas was right in guessing the river to be near, and the fugitives could not have approached it at a better time or place, though they had little idea of the good fortune in store for them. If they thought about the chances at all, as they ran desperately before the screeching Indians, it was to realize what little likelihood there was of finding a boat, or of safely gaining the farther bank by swimming.

But when they had plunged through a slope of water-birches, and straggled breathlessly down to the pebbly sh.o.r.e of the Susquehanna, a welcome sight at once met their eyes. Almost directly opposite, and twenty yards out in the stream, a big flat-boat was drifting leisurely with the current.

Over the high gunwales rose two or three heads, and a voice demanded sharply: "Who's yonder?"

"Friends!" cried Barnabas. "Fugitives from the enemy! The redskins are hot upon us. Cover the bank with your guns while we come aboard."

Splash! went Barnabas into the water, and his companions after him. With st.u.r.dy strokes they swam diagonally down-stream, caught the stern of the flat, and hauled themselves on board. As they dropped low on the bottom, yells and musket-shots split the air, and bullets rained like hail against the thick timbers.

From the shelter of the elevated bulwark the occupants of the flat returned a cool and effective fire, and when Nathan ventured to peep through a loop-hole he saw two Indians prostrate on the beach and a third struggling in agony in shallow water.

During the lull that followed the first volley from both sides, the boat drifted over a course of rapids, and the swifter current swung it well toward mid-stream. With a few parting shots the baffled foes disappeared, and a peaceful calm fell on river and wood.

The escaped prisoners were surprised to find Morgan Proud and Abel Cutbush on board the flat. The latter's wife and child were with him, and another member of the party was a negro named Cato. Mrs. Cutbush was a hardy type of the colonial women of the time, and her six-year-old daughter, Molly, had not even whimpered during the brief fight.

"It's a good thing we happened to be here," said Proud, when he had gleaned their thrilling story from the fugitives, "and it's all owin' to chance, too. I waited a bit after you left, and as no one came along I pushed down to Wilkesbarre. The people had all fled except Cato here, and Cutbush and his family, and they were tryin' to tinker up this old flat--the only boat left. I helped 'em to stop the leaks and rig bulwarks on both sides, and about an hour ago we got started. There's a couple of other parties ahead of us, but we aren't likely to ketch up with 'em. This old craft is heavy, and it draws a heap of water. I'm thinking we'll stick now and then."

"We'll pull through all right," cheerfully replied Barnabas. "Now that them redskins have turned back the danger is about over, for the enemy will have enough plunderin' and burnin' to do right here in the valley to keep 'em busy. How are you off for weapons? We brought just one with us."

"We have two extra muskets," said Cutbush, "and as Cato ain't much on shootin', his'll make up the number your party will want in case of a possible attack. There's food aboard, and as for ammunition--" He pointed to a keg of powder and a quant.i.ty of bullets in one corner of the flat.

By this time the boat had drifted between the abrupt mountains that closed the lower end of the Wyoming Valley, and there was a certainty of good current and depth for some miles ahead. All through the night the men of the party took turns at sleeping and at guiding the flat by means of long poles and a rudder. No hostile shot or yell broke the quiet, and at last the morning sun kissed the blue water into ripples and stained the h.o.a.ry mountain peaks with gold. Danger was behind, and hope and safety in front.

While Mrs. Cutbush prepared the frugal breakfast, aided by Molly and Cato, Barnabas and Nathan found time to sit in the bow of the flat, where they were presently joined by G.o.dfrey. The lad looked haggard and worried.

"I'm ruined," he said, as he sat down beside his companions. "I feel that I've nothing left to live for. Not that I regret what I did last night. Don't think it. But I shall be branded as a deserter--and worse.

I can never go back to Major Langdon, and if I am caught I will be shot or hanged as a traitor. I wish I had never been sent on this wretched business."

"Your mission was not legitimate war," replied Nathan. "Explanations will surely right you. But why worry about the matter at all? You are safe, and can share our fortunes. And after the fiendish acts you saw done at Wyoming by a British force--"

"Stop!" G.o.dfrey said, sadly. "I am still true to my cause, Nathan--as much as you are to yours. Let us not discuss that matter. We can at least be friends while we are together."

"How could we be otherwise, after your n.o.ble deed?" replied Nathan.

"Then you have no ill-feeling?" asked G.o.dfrey. "I was afraid you blamed me for that night in Philadelphia. It was Major Langdon who found the note, and he made me go along. I have always wished I could explain."

"Well, it's all right now," said Nathan. "And it was all right then," he added to himself, remembering his reckless flight through the town.

"There is something else I want to speak about," continued G.o.dfrey.

"Have you got those--those papers safe?"

"Yes, I have them," Nathan exclaimed, eagerly. "Can you explain the mystery about them?"

G.o.dfrey shook his head. "It is a mystery," he replied, "and a deep one.

I only know this. The day after the battle of Monmouth, while our army was at Middletown, Major Langdon sent Simon Gla.s.s and a squad of dragoons to Wyoming to get those papers. I don't know why I was sent along, and I never knew until last night that the papers were the property of your father. And Gla.s.s--who is the worst ruffian I ever knew--has tried his best to get all of your party killed ever since he learned you were bound for the same place. That's why he was so savage with me last night, when I appealed to Colonel Butler to spare your lives."

"I've had an idea of what was going on for some time past," said Barnabas. "I seen a mighty ugly look in Major Langdon's eyes when he stood over Captain Stanbury on the battle-field. That's when he overheard about the papers, but what in the name of creation did he want with them? Could your father have known him before, lad--over in England?"

"I don't know," replied Nathan. "I never heard him speak of Major Langdon. In fact, I don't know anything about my father's past. But I believe the secret to this mystery lies over the sea, and I'll tell you why."

He went on to relate the visit of Mr. Noah Waxpenny to the Indian Queen, and how he had asked information concerning both Richard Stanbury and Major Langdon. This was new to G.o.dfrey and Barnabas, and all three discussed the matter earnestly, but without coming any nearer a solution.

"We've got to have patience, an' wait," said Barnabas. "That's the only thing to do. The papers are safe, anyway, an' this fellow from London may clear up the mystery if we run across him. Or your father may turn up, lad--"

"Perhaps G.o.dfrey knows something about him," exclaimed Nathan. "Did the British carry off any prisoners after the battle of Monmouth?"

"Not that I know of," replied G.o.dfrey. "I saw or heard of none; but then I was in front during the retreat."

"My father is alive," declared Nathan. "I am sure of it."

"I hope so," said G.o.dfrey. "Speaking about those papers," he added, "I feel a good bit worried. If Gla.s.s gets it into his head that you have them--as he probably will, when he has dug over the ruins of the cabin--he is sure to follow you up."

"It's hardly likely," replied Barnabas. "An' then he can't ketch us anyway, pervidin' the currents and depth of water hold good. No, lad, I think we're done with Simon Gla.s.s, as far as this expedition is concerned. There, Mrs. Cutbush has got breakfast ready. She's calling us."

Barnabas and the two lads found no further opportunity that day to discuss the mystery of Major Langdon and the papers. It was a day of hard and unremitting toil. There had been a long spell of dry weather, and, as the river gradually widened, its channel became more and more obstructed by gra.s.s-bars, shallows, and outcropping ledges. Doubtless the preceding boats had found a ready pa.s.sage, but the abandoned flat that Proud and Cutbush had tinkered up under the spur of necessity was broad, heavy, and leaky. Cato was constantly kept busy bailing water, and rudder and poles were of little aid to navigation. Every few minutes all of the party except Mrs. Cutbush and Molly were compelled to get out, and by their united strength drag the craft over the shallows.

By ten o'clock that night less than twelve miles had been covered, and the exhausted men could proceed no further. They encamped on a patch of sand and scrub in mid-channel, and took turns at guard mounting until morning. Mrs. Cutbush and her daughter slept in the flat, on a comfortable bed of dried gra.s.s, that was protected from the damp planks by an underlayer of pine boughs.

"We're about thirty miles below Wilkesbarre, now," said Barnabas, as the journey was resumed after breakfast, "an' it's a good twenty miles yet to the main river, where we'll strike deep water an' the shelter of the lower forts. If I thought the wadin' and haulin' was to last another day I'd suggest we take to footin' it on sh.o.r.e."

"It would be a wise plan," agreed G.o.dfrey. "At the speed we've been making, a force of Tories and Indians could have overhauled us twice over, and they may do it yet. You don't know Simon Gla.s.s."

"Don't I?" Barnabas interrupted grimly. "I reckon I do. But honestly, lad, I believe he's given up the chase. It's best to take precautions though, an' that's why I spoke of walkin'."

"It won't be easy for me," declared Proud, shaking his head. "I've got a sprained ankle."

"And my little gal, who ain't no light weight, would have to be carried," added Cutbush.

"I've been down the river twice before," said Nathan, "and I'm pretty sure that the lower part of the North Branch is deeper than up here."

Several others suddenly remembered the same fact, from past experience, and so it was decided to stick to the flat. G.o.dfrey alone favored a land journey, and he could not hide his apprehension at the choice. "If they knew Simon Gla.s.s as I do," he said to himself, "they wouldn't lose any time in getting below the forts."

However, after three hours' repet.i.tion of the previous day's labors, the channel actually did become deeper and less obstructed. In consequence the current was more sluggish, but the flat drifted steadily on for mile after mile, and there was a fair prospect of reaching the main river that evening.

Early in the afternoon a magnificent buck with large antlers burst out of the woods on the south bank, about a quarter of a mile below, plunged precipitately into the water, and swam for the opposite sh.o.r.e.

"Something scared it," said Nathan.