On the Kentucky Frontier Part 12

"We would be poor frontiersmen if we failed to follow your trail, lads,"

Major Clarke said with a smile. "You shall do as you please."

Now it would have suited me better to remain in safety aboard the flat-boat, yet there was a chance that now I might show my desire to repair the wrong committed, and I replied as if my heart was full of courage:

"We may not be of much a.s.sistance, sir; but I should like it better if we had a hand in the work."

Whereupon Paul stepped closely to my side as if to say I had but spoken the thoughts which were in his mind.

Thus it was that we two followed the volunteers, knowing full well we might fall into an ambush, and certain we would soon be battling with our enemies.

Among these men led by Major Clarke, there was not one ignorant of how the work before him should be accomplished. No orders, were necessary.

The volunteers moved ten or twelve paces apart, stretching far up from the river until they were what would be called by military men a "skirmish line," and then began the advance, while the flat-boat remained moored to the bank and two settlers were paddling at full speed up-stream to warn the other craft.

Save for the bungling movements of Paul and myself, not a sound could be heard as we pressed forward, keenly on the alert for the enemy, and ready for an immediate attack.

It was as if a company of shadows flitted here and there amid the underbrush, so far as might be told from sound, and although the advance was noiseless, it was made swiftly.

Paul and I were left somewhat in the rear because of not being able to keep the pace silently, and during more than half of the hour which pa.s.sed, I failed to see a single man ahead of us.

Then suddenly, although we knew full well it must soon come, the report of a rifle rang out on the still air; after this another and another, until there could be no question but that the foremost of the party had come upon those of whom we gave warning.

My timorousness was forgotten on the instant--cast out of mind by the knowledge that our lives must be defended, and Paul, whom I believe of a verity had never been timid, pressed forward so rapidly to take part in the struggle that I laid hold of him lest he should unnecessarily run into danger.

We advanced three hundred paces or more before coming to where our men were sheltered behind trees, trying to pick off the foe who were in similar positions, and I heard Major Clarke say in a sharp, low tone:

"Get to cover, lads! The reptiles are close upon us, and you are giving them fair targets."

I leaped behind a gum tree, giving no heed to Paul's movements, and had but just gained this shelter when a bullet cut the bark within an inch of my face.

The Indians were ready for battle, although I had often heard it said they would never stand up in a fair fight, and there came into my mind the fear that Paul and I might have seen only a portion of their force--that possibly we were confronting a large body led by British officers.

CHAPTER VII.

THE CAPTIVE SCOUT.

To you who have read of, and perhaps taken part in, battles between two armies, this encounter on the banks of the Ohio may seem trifling, and devoid of interest, because there is no thrilling account of this gallant charge, or that stubborn holding of a position.

Since the day when thirty men under command of Major Clarke confronted an unknown number of Indians on the banks of the Ohio, driving them back in such fashion that there was no longer spirit enough left in them to carry out the murderous plan which they had formed for attacking the defenseless ones on Corn Island--since that day, I say, this country has seen much of warfare, and what was to Paul Sampson and myself like a veritable battle has, even while I write, pa.s.sed into history as something too insignificant to be worthy of any extended mention.

To us lads, however, who stood there in the long, scattered line, knowing that our lives depended upon our own exertions; knowing that the least incautious movement--a single instant wasted when the trigger of a rifle should have been pressed, might mean death, it was an engagement as heavy and important as any that has been waged since the world began, and with good reason, because our own safety hung in the balance.

In this world one is p.r.o.ne to give importance to, or detract from, an event in such measure as it concerns himself alone, and, therefore, Paul and I may well be excused for holding high in our memory this conflict which meant everything to those people who on Corn Island awaited our movements before they should begin to build that settlement which has since become known as Louisville.

Of it I can tell no more than that which I saw, and I dare venture to say that my experience was the same as that of every other in the line, for no man could give attention save to what lay directly before him.

It was in fact nothing more, this battle, than standing behind gum or pine tree, as the case might be, peering intently ahead and on either side for a distance of twenty or thirty paces, hoping to catch a glimpse of a tuft of feathers which would tell where a bullet might be sent with deadly effect, or cowering back whenever a movement of the foliage told that a rifle barrel was being thrust out so that the holder might take deadly aim.

Commonplace enough it sounds when set down in words; but if he who chances to read can imagine himself in such a position, his only effort being to save his own life or take that of another, some little idea may be had of the thrilling excitement which overcame me like unto a fever.

Now and then from different points could be heard voices shouting words of encouragement to those in that line of brave men who might perchance be for the moment faint-hearted. Again, and all too often, came the cry of pain or an exclamation of anger when the bullet of a savage had bitten the flesh, and meanwhile Major Clarke was calling out to this man or to that as he leaped from one point of vantage to the other, animating every one by his words as well as his example.

In such a situation the combatants do not give heed to the pa.s.sage of time. There are intervals when each second is as a dozen minutes, and then again, when the minutes flit by apparently more quickly than one could count.

Once, when having turned my back to the tree, knowing that my body was fully sheltered while I reloaded my rifle, I observed Paul, calm and collected as the mightiest hunter among us. If perchance his aim was less true than some of the others, it was not because of nervousness or anxiety concerning himself. He stood his ground like a man--a man who fights to protect others, rather than for his own honor or to preserve his own life.

On that morning Paul Sampson gave good proof that he was worthy to be numbered among the defenders of the frontier, and showed that in him could be found none of his father's fickle-mindedness.

The report of his rifle rang out as often as did that of the most eager or most experienced in the line, and how much execution he might have done I know not; but this is certain, that I saw no less than two tufts of feathers rise convulsively and then sink suddenly out of sight when his weapon had been discharged at them.

I say it is impossible to tell at such a time how long one faces his foe; but it was afterwards told that the Indians stood up to the battle for near an hour, and then came the word from Major Clarke that they were falling back.

This information was in the nature of a command for us to advance, and advance we did, leaping from one place of shelter to another, while hastening the faint-hearted foe by bullets sent whithersoever the swaying of the foliage told us one of the brutes was making his way onward.

When we had advanced in such halting fashion for the distance of forty or fifty paces, I was come to where the painted crew had made their stand, and there saw good evidence of what we had accomplished.

No less than four bodies were stretched on the ground lifeless, and my timorousness returned in a measure as I realized that near at hand, perhaps making ready to take aim at me, might be some savage, so badly wounded that he could not join his fellows in what had become little less than a flight.

[Ill.u.s.tration: We advanced from one place of shelter to another, firing rapidly,--Page 142. _On the Kentucky Frontier._]

At that moment we were in more danger of such of the savages than from those who were yet sound in body; but as the time pa.s.sed and I felt neither the sting of a bullet nor the burning cut of a knife, my courage came back again before those around me noted the fact of my having been near to cowardice.

We advanced, leaping from one sheltered spot to another, until the word was pa.s.sed along the line that the remnant of the foe had taken to flight, no longer trying to shelter themselves, and the battle was over, save for those eager white men who pursued in the hope of shedding yet more Indian blood.

Major Clarke gave the word for his force to fall back to the boat. He told off four men to search the thicket for bodies of the savages in order that we might know how many had fallen, and the remainder of the party, save two or three who were so far in advance as not to have heard the command, returned to where the flat-boat was moored.

It was in my mind to congratulate Paul upon his having been in action and come out unscathed, believing a lad like him, who had stood up against the enemy for the first time in his life, would be ready to hear words of praise, or, at least, discuss the exciting events.

But the boy whom I had looked upon as ignorant because of never having lived on the frontier, was now shaming me by his actions.

Instead of spending his time in useless words, Paul began cleaning his heated rifle, and otherwise putting himself into condition to do a like service if the occasion should suddenly require it.

Abashed by his calm and manly behavior, I held my peace, following his example, and when the last of the pursuers had returned to the flat-boat we two lads were ready to take part in another encounter.

Those who had been detailed to learn how much injury we inflicted upon the foe, reported that fourteen killed or grievously wounded lay in the thicket, and once more Major Clarke questioned us as to the probable number we had seen in the encampment.

I was positive, as also was Paul, that there could not have been upward of thirty, while it was more reasonable to believe the band numbered less than twenty, and the major claimed that we might rest a.s.sured there was no longer any danger to be feared from this particular band of brutes.

While we were fighting in the thicket the other flat-boats had come down the stream, rounded-to, and made fast alongside the first craft; but not a man had gone on sh.o.r.e to take part in the battle because of the orders left by our leader.

Now we were ready to continue the journey, and the major said to Paul and me when we were on board once more, drifting with the current:

"I allow that it was a fortunate mishap for you lads to have lost sight of Simon Kenton, otherwise we should have been called upon to bury a certain number of dead from among the force, instead of having to count only four slightly wounded. Had that party of reptiles fired on us from the thicket as we drifted by, much loss of life must have followed.

Therefore I hold to it that you have done us, at the very beginning of the journey, good service."