The Frontier Angel Part 5

"Why, Abbot, 'sposen I had fifty bullets right smack through this h'yer noddle of mine, and you should ax me if I had any s'pishions I'd survive, and I should tell you I was as dead as a door nail, wouldn't you believe me?"

"Of course."

"Wal, then, though I'm sorry to say it, there ain't a bit more hope for her. She never seed the devils that climbed over the boat. She died afore I got twenty feet from the boat."

"You are _certain of it_?"

"Yes, sir; I'm certain."

"You must wonder at my talking thus, Jim; but I have no hopes either; I have given her up long since. I have still one wish--to know what fate attended her body."

"I can tell you that."

"What was it?"

"She was thrown overboard with the others."

"You did not see that done, Jim, and cannot be sure of it."

The ranger was about to contradict him, and tell that he had followed the murderers and seen that they bore no body with them; but he did not, and Abbot continued.

"It is this doubt--this uncertainty that still troubles me. When that has been cleared up I shall never speak of the subject again. Russel has told me that you and Dingle are going to seek revenge upon McGable?"

"We are not going to seek it; we are going to _get_ it."

"I profess to be a Christian, and the Bible teaches me that vengeance is not for us, but for One alone. And, Jim, I can really say that I have no desire that McGable should suffer at your hands. G.o.d knows that he has broken two hearts, but the time will come when he will have to answer for it."

"That's my idee, exactly, and I reckon as how 'twill be a little sooner than he expects."

"He knows, if any human being does, the fate of Marian. Obtain, if possible, first of all, the truth from him."

"I can't see just now, Abbot, how that's gwine to be done."

"Take him captive and bring him in, and we will make him answer. Do you not think you and your companion may succeed in capturing him?"

"P'r'aps so--bein' it's your wish we'll do our best to do it, and,"

added Peterson to himself, "O Lordy! won't we skemer the old devil when we git him. We'll toast him afore a slow fire, I'll bet my life."

"Get him, if you can, Jim, and you will confer a favor that I shall never be able to repay."

"Never mind about that, _the thing will be done_!"

Shortly after this, Peterson took his departure.

CHAPTER V.

THE MYSTERIOUS WARNING.

IT was a mild September night in 179-. The day had been one of those warm, hazy ones that sometimes appear at that season of the year, and the night had set in with delicious coolness. There was a faint moon in the heavens, and several flaky clouds were drifting past it, causing their fantastic shadows to glide like phantoms over the settlement, sometimes, for a moment, throwing it into shadow, and then permitting the moonlight again to stream down upon it.

Most of the settlers had withdrawn within their cabins, and as the hour had grown quite late, there were few, if any, stirring through the village. A few pencils of light issued from the upper port-holes of the block-house, showing that those inside were still up; and a hearty laugh, ringing out now and then, told as plainly that they were engaged in their usual habit of story-telling and joking. Peterson was inside relating one of his earlier experiences, which infinitely amused them all, the commander not hesitating to join in the merriment.

On the outside, the slow-measured tread of the sentinel was heard, and his form could be seen against the wall of the block-house, as he walked to and fro upon the platform. His keen eye never failed to take in at every turn, every noticeable object before him. At one end of the projection, he had a view of the river, now glistening in the sheen of the moonlight like liquid silver; and, during the remainder of his walk, his vision rested upon the broad, gloomy, murmuring forest, stretching mile after mile before him, until, at last, it joined the sky away in the faint horizon. It was d.i.c.k Dingle, whose watch extended until midnight.

While in the act of turning on his heel, at the end of the platform, he suddenly stopped as something suspicious caught his eye. Far up the Ohio, at such a distance that it would have been invisible to ordinary eyes, he saw a small, dark body in the water. At first, it had the appearance of a large bird swimming over the surface, but the hunter well knew that it was a canoe, approaching from the Ohio side. A slight protuberance near the middle, convinced him that there was but one person in it.

When about three-fourths of the way across, the sparkle of the ashen oars could be seen, as they dipped in the water. A moment after, it entered the line of shadows upon the Kentucky sh.o.r.e and disappeared.

Dingle's suspicion was aroused. The long silence and inactivity of the savages had led him to the belief that they were preparing to strike a great blow upon the settlements. Neither he nor Peterson had been scouting lately, and he had no means of discovering their intentions.

"Leastways, d.i.c.k Dingle," he muttered, as he resumed his walk, "it won't do fur you to wink both eyes at the same time. Look out fur sign."

He continued walking with the same measured, deliberate tread backward and forward, apparently watching nothing, and yet maintaining a more than usual scrutiny upon the river and forest. A half-hour pa.s.sed away, and finally an hour had elapsed, without bringing any new suspicion to him; but he was well aware that this delay was as good reason for apprehension, as could have been the noise of approach.

"You don't cotch Dingle asleep in the night-time, or when there's reds about. It would do to let on that. Now let's see, Dingle, you old fool, what do you s'pose the imps are up to now? Jest go to meditatin' will you and cipher it out. In the first place, and afore anything else, they're up to _sunkthin'_; and that ar' sunkthin' is the _devil_.

Consequently, it's a pinted fact, that they're up to the devil, and therefore, Dingle, there's sunkthin' in the wind; so mind your eye and look out for squalls. Wish they'd hurry up 'cause it's gettin' well on to that green feller's watch, and I'd like to have an idee given me of their intentions ef they're no partickler objections."

The eccentric ranger continued his walk, occasionally interspersing it with characteristic observations similar to those above; and, all the time, wondering why it was that something else "didn't turn up" to give him an "idee"; but another hour wore away without bringing the desired knowledge to him.

By this time, it was near midnight, and shortly after, a man appeared beside him to relieve him of his watch. This new-comer was known as Jenkins, and was what the rangers termed a "green hand:" that is, he had seen little or nothing of Indian service, and was not one who could be relied upon in an emergency. Several practical jokes had been played upon him, such as getting him into the wood and raising an alarm of Indians, or firing very closely to him from concealment; and the result of these same tricks had given one or two a suspicion that he was somewhat lacking in courage, and would show the white feather if pressed to the wall.

"Careful and not get a snoozin' to-night," remarked Dingle.

"Why? you don't s'pose I would, do you?"

"Didn't know but what you might; thought I'd tell you anyway, 'cause it _won't do to shut your eyes to-night_."

"Why? what's the matter? What's up, eh?" queried Jenkins eagerly.

"Oh, nothin' in partickler; only I've seen Injins to-night."

"Pshaw! don't say so? You're joking, d.i.c.k?"

"Ef you think so, jest think on, but ef you don't see sights afore mornin', it'll be 'cause you can't see: that's all," and Dingle with a warning shake of his head turned to enter the block-house.

"Oh say, d.i.c.k, that ain't fair!" said Jenkins, laying his hand on his shoulder.

"What's the matter? Ain't scart, be you?" demanded the ranger, confronting him with an angry countenance.

"Oh! no-no-no, I ain't scart at all--not at all; I only want you to tell a feller all about it. You might do that, I think."

"Wal, see hyer then. I seed four or five Shawnees skulking out yonder near the wood, tryin' to draw bead on me, and I had to do some tall dodging to hender them. You'll have to hop around rather agile, but I guess you can steer clear. Ef you git hit, holler and I'll haul you in and let you die inside."

"Oh, thunder! hold on. Dingle, don't go and leave a feller this way. I don't think it's the fair shake at all."