The German Pioneers Part 20

"What are the fellows up to now?" said Anton Bierman.

Out of the woods in which the enemy for the last half-hour was entirely concealed there came three men--one Frenchman and two Indians. They had laid aside their arms. Instead of them they carried long rods to the ends of which white cloths were tied. They swung the rods back and forth and made the cloths flutter. So they came up slowly as though they were not quite sure, and wished to a.s.sure themselves whether those on the other side were disposed to regard a flag of truce. Anton Bierman and Jacob Ehrlich felt no inclination to do this. They thought that the scoundrels, the year before, had never shown mercy, and that for their part they would send them to the devil with their white rags and, though there were but three, they were worth three charges of powder. Lambert had enough to do to hush the excited men, and to make it clear to them that they, as Germans, should not be the first to do that.

Meanwhile those who had come to ask a parley had approached to within a short distance of the house. Lambert appeared on the gallery, after he had told the others not to let themselves be seen, and called out: "Halt!"

The three stood still.

"What do you want?"

"Is there one among you who speaks French?" asked the Frenchman in German.

"We speak only German," answered Lambert. "What do you want?"

The Frenchman, a tall, dark-complexioned man, placed himself in a quite theatrical posture while he set his flag of truce on the ground with his left hand and raised the right hand toward heaven, and called out:

"I, Roger de St. Croix, Lieutenant in the service of his most Christian Majesty, Louis XV., and commander of his majesty's troops here present, and of the allied Indians of the tribe of the Onondagas, herewith bring to your knowledge and inform you that, if you at once and on the spot lay down your arms and give yourselves up to our mercy or severity, we will grant life to you, your wives and children, nor will we injure you in your possessions, but will leave everything--house, barn and cattle--undestroyed. But should you be mad enough to make further resistance against the formidable power of six hundred well-armed and disciplined soldiers of his majesty, and as many more brave and dreadful Indians, then I swear--I, Roger de St. Croix--that not one of you shall get away with his life--neither you, nor your wives, nor your children--and that we will level with the dust your houses and barns, so that n.o.body could again find the place where they stood."

The man, who spoke German glibly enough, though with a French accent, had spoken louder and louder until at last he shrieked. He now let his gesticulating right arm fall to his side and stood there in an indifferent att.i.tude, like a man conducting a spiritless conversation which he can stop or continue just as the other may prefer.

"Shall I answer for you?" asked Anton as he struck his rifle.

"Still!" said Lambert, and then raised his voice: "Go back to your people and tell them that we here, united German men, one as all and all as one, are resolved to hold the house, come what will; and that we are quite confident that we can hold it, even if you were twelve hundred instead of one hundred and fifty, counting in the ten already lying there."

The Frenchman made a quick motion of surprise, and turned to his attendants who had been standing there without altering their posture, or stirring. He appeared to say something to them which arrested their attention. Then he again took his former theatrical posture and called out:

"From what you last said, though it is false, I infer that there is with you a certain Conrad Sternberg. I promise you that not a hair shall be bent and a hundred Louis d'or besides, if you will deliver to us this Conrad Sternberg."

"The man of whom you speak," replied Lambert, "is with us, and you have already twice heard the crack of his rifle, and if you so please you can hear it again."

"But this Conrad is a traitor, who has cheated us in the most shameful manner," cried the Frenchman. "I am no traitor," called Conrad, who now stood beside his brother. "I told you I would escape as soon as possible. Since you this time thought your six could hold me you will the next time set a dozen to guard me."

"The next time I will begin by having laid at my feet, first your scalp and then your head," cried the Frenchman in loudest tones.

"Enough!" called Lambert. "I give you ten minutes to get back into the woods. He of you who then yet lets himself be seen outside does it at his peril!"

The Frenchman doubled up his fist, and then bethought himself as to what, under all circ.u.mstances, a Frenchman owes himself against German blockheads, and taking off his large, three-cornered hat, made a low bow, turned on his heel, and walked at first slowly, then faster and faster toward the woods, until he fell into a regular trot, evidently to spare the Germans the shame of shooting, after the ten minutes had elapsed, at the messenger of his Most Christian Majesty.

"Lord of my life!" cried Anton. "Now I first know him. That is the same fellow, Jacob, who three years ago came to us begging, and who afterward hung about the neighborhood half a year. He called himself Mr. Emil, and said that he had shot a comrade in a duel and had on that account to flee. But others claimed that he was an escaped galley-slave. Afterward he wanted to marry Sally, Joseph Kleeman's black girl, but she said she was too good for a fellow like that, and Hans Kessel, Sally's treasure, once pounded him as limber as a rag, after which he disappeared. Lord of my life! He gives himself out here as a lieutenant, and speaks of his Most Christian Majesty, and is willing to leave us our dear lives--the mean plate-licker, the gallows-bird!"

So honest Anton scolded and abused, and a.s.serted that if he did not get this Mr. Emil, or Saint Croix, or whatever the fellow's name was, in front of his rifle, to him the whole sport would be spoiled.

The rest would gladly have known what Conrad had before had to do with the French, but their curiosity remained unsatisfied, for Conrad had immediately again gone up, and soon the attention of the besieged was directed to another side. From the barn-yard arose a column of smoke, which every moment became thicker and blacker, until the flames burst forth from the ma.s.s. The enemy had made his threat true. It seemed to be a useless barbarity, for the barn was too far from the block-house for the flames to leap across, though the wind, which now began to rise, was blowing toward the house, driving along smoke and sparks. But this whole war was only a continuous chain of such barbarities. This morning Lambert had mentally seen what he now actually saw. He had wrought all this with his own hands, which now the more firmly grasped the barrel of his gun. Then there cracked a shot above and another, and Aunt Ursul called down the stairs: "Be watchful! Eyes left! In the reeds!"

The meaning of these words and of the shots fired from above soon became clear. The attention of the besieged had not been uselessly directed to the land side. In the thick sedge and reeds, of man's height, with which the sh.o.r.es of the creek were overgrown, one could come from the woods within a hundred paces of the house. It was a difficult undertaking, for the ground was a bottomless bog as far as the reeds grew, and where they ended the creek was deep and rapid. But they had ventured to do it, and it soon appeared with what result. From among the reeds here and there shots were soon being fired with increasing rapidity. There must indeed have been a considerable number who had came by that dangerous way, and had concealed themselves along the sh.o.r.e in spite of all that those in the house could do to free themselves from neighbors so unwelcome and dangerous.

Wherever an eagle-feathered head or a naked arm showed itself, or the barrel of a gun glistened, yes, if the sedge only moved, a bullet struck. But though a few dead bodies floated down the creek, others lay dead or wounded among the rushes and others still had sunk in the mora.s.s, the remaining number was so great and the daring enemy was so embittered by his heavy losses, it seemed that the worst must and would come. Besides, the evening wind kept increasing, causing the tops of the rushes to wave hither and thither, so that it was difficult and often impossible to follow the movements of the unseen enemy, and many a precious charge was wasted. This evidently made the attacking party more bold. The fire-line was constantly receding from the sh.o.r.e. The more frequent bullets rained against the breastwork and roof. It might be expected at any moment that a rush would be made from the reeds and that, having rapidly run across the short distance that still separated them from the house, they would attempt to storm it.

But it soon became manifest that on the opposite side of the house they were by no means willing to set the decision of the day on a single card. Suddenly, at the edge of the woods, there began to be a stirring and a moving as if the forest itself had become alive. Broad shields of man's height cunningly contrived out of pine branches were pushed out or carried, one could not tell which, in a connected line over the smooth level meadow toward the house. The progress was slow, but onward, until they had approached within rifle shot, and then the marksmen behind the shields opened a lively fire. The shields were indeed no sure protection for the attacking party, but they made the aim of the beleaguered more difficult, and moreover compelled them to be more watchful, and to direct their rifles toward two sides at once.

But the oncoming foe had not yet exhausted his ingenuity. From the barn-yard, where everything was entirely burned down, they at the same time came rolling before them Lambert's large casks, and, as soon as they were near enough, they set them up and so made a wall that could every moment be shoved farther, and offered a much more sure protection than the pine-branch shields. Anton Bierman had laughed loudly when he saw the casks coming toward the house, but after he had fired at them a few times, clearly without effect, he laughed no more, but said softly to his friend Jacob: "Things begin to look serious!"

It was indeed serious. So far no one had received apparent injury, except that one and another was badly cut by splinters torn from the breastwork by bullets, and bled profusely. But the battle had now lasted for three hours. It was a warm piece of work, under the June sun, and the cheeks of the fighters glowed, and the barrels of their guns were hot. Furthermore, many an eye, when it could turn away a moment from the unaccustomed b.l.o.o.d.y work toward the sun, had observed with care how rapidly it had been sinking during this hour which would not end--how low it already stood. So long as its light lasted a handful of men might keep up the doubtful strife against a crafty, cunning enemy far outnumbering them, and leave it undecided. But how soon the sun would set, and when it did, and darkness came on, it would cover the valley for hours with an impenetrable veil, since now the moon did not rise till after midnight; and under the protection of the night and of the fog the enemy could slip up and storm the place. True the beams of the lower story were thick enough, and the only door was barred, but a dozen axes could in a short time break in the door and, however thick the beams, they could not withstand fire. Then the beleaguered would have no choice but to give their living bodies to the flames, or with their arms in their hands try to open a way from the closely surrounded, burning house. And even then their destruction was sure. Whoever was not killed at once would, on account of the number of the pursuers, be overtaken and brought down.

Such was the situation. It could not be doubtful either to the besieged, or besiegers, who had long been convinced that the house was defended by no more than ten rifles. But however much this certainty may have raised their desire to fight and their thirst for vengeance, the courage of those in the blockhouse remained unbroken. n.o.body thought of flight, which was indeed impracticable; nor of surrender, which equally meant a painful death. All were resolved to defend themselves to the last breath, and sooner to kill themselves, or each other, than to fall alive into the hands of the cruel enemy.

Lambert and Catherine had already before said this to each other, and during the battle they had more than once signaled the death covenant to each other with silent, intelligent glances. But the courageous girl was--not only to her lover--like a banner which waves before the bold soldier in battle and on which his eyes rest with an enthusiasm that overcomes death. Whoever looked at the pale, still, determined, restlessly helpful maiden, drank from a spring of courage and strength, so that his fearful heart beat higher and his tired limbs were again strengthened. To the commands constantly repeated from the first: "Stay away, Catherine! Don't stand there, Catherine!" she paid no attention.

Where she knew she was needed, there she was; above with the men under the hot roof; below with those on the gallery, giving one a drink; taking a discharged rifle from the hands of another; giving to another a gun that she herself had loaded. She had also learned quickly, as she learned everything on seeing it, that Adam Bellinger, though he reasonably exerted himself and the sweat ran in streams from his forehead, was not equal to his task, and that the marksmen often called in vain for their guns.

So she was again occupied in the inner room when Aunt Ursul, Conrad, old Christian and the minister came down from above, while also those in the gallery stopped shooting and it became still outside.

"What is going on?" asked Catherine.

"They are about to visit us with a second storming party," said Lambert, coming in from the gallery. "It is well that you have come down. Every man of us must now be on the gallery. We shall soon enough have them under us."

Others also came in to hear what would happen. They were a.s.sembled in full count.

"I think," said Lambert, "we had better not shoot until they are on the wall, for now they will not turn back again, and then we have eight of them sure. Afterward five of us will give attention to the others, while the rest put a stop to the work of the scoundrels below us. Are the rifles all loaded?"

"Here!" and, "Here!" said Catherine and Adam, handing out the last two rifles.

It so happened that the two were Lambert's and Conrad's rifles. As they both at the same time came up it was not by mere chance that both took their guns with the left hand, for at the next moment their right hands clasped, and thus they stood before Catherine, who, blushing deeply, took a step back, fearing that her nearness should anew break the bond of the brothers. But the minister laid his hand on the hands of the brothers as they held each other with a firm grasp, and said: "As these two who had for a moment lost each other, and in the hour of danger have again found each other, to be and to remain, in life and in death and in eternity united, so let us all, dear brothers and sisters, thank and praise G.o.d that we here stand together so united, and that, in this solemn hour, which according to all human calculation is our last, we are fulfilling the chief commandment, and are loving one another. Since life can offer us nothing greater than this, though we should live a thousand years, let us without murmuring take our departure from this dear life. We do not give it up lightly. We have defended it as well as we could. But we are only flesh and blood, and this our fortress is wood. G.o.d, however, who made us in his own likeness and breathed his breath into us--G.o.d is a spirit and a strong tower."

As the minister uttered the word, then, as though the Spirit to whom they were praying had inspired it, the sentiment it awakened pa.s.sed through the little a.s.sembly and Luther's battle-hymn sounded forth as if from one mouth:

A Strong tower is our G.o.d-- A good defense and armor; He keeps us free in every need Which us has yet befallen; The old and angry fiend, Earnestly he means, Great might and much craft His dreadful armor is, On earth there's nothing like him.

With our own might nothing's done; We surely are quite helpless; There fights for us the very Man, Whom G.o.d himself has chosen.

Ask you who is He?

He's called Jesus Christ, The Lord Sabaoth, There is no other G.o.d; The field he'll not surrender.

And were the world of devils full, Would they us wholly swallow, So fear we not so very much; We yet shall surely prosper.

There they were, on every side, as though the creek and the prairie and the woods had spit them out at once. They came on in wild leaps, swinging axes and guns and brush-bundles. French and Indians, hunters and dogs, rushed on to battle. In a moment they flew across the narrow intervening s.p.a.ce, down into the ditch, up the wall, in frenzied motion, digging with their nails, one on another's shoulder, up, up.

Up but not over--at least not the first.

As soon as a head emerged from behind the wall, a pair of elbows put firmly on it, a breast exposed, came the deadly bullet, and the venturesome enemy fell back into the ditch. This fate befalls the first, the second, the third and the fourth. The fifth at last succeeds and the sixth; and now half-a-dozen at once, and at another point also a couple. These are enough. The object is gained. Words of command are called out. Those who are still on the other side of the wall retire, forming about the house in a double circle and continually firing.

Again, and then for the last time, to rush forward so soon as those who had pressed to the house should have finished their work.

It will to all appearance soon be finished. Sharp axes cut down the door. The ax-swingers understand their work. They have before opened breaches in many a barricaded house. And those on the other side, toward which the wind was blowing, understood their business equally well. They have often before placed a firebrand against a house they could not otherwise take. Those above shot well through the round holes in the bottom of the gallery, and one or two of those below must pay for their bravery with their lives. But the others are covered, and the rain of bullets which pours upon the house divides the force of the besieged who must turn to every side at once. Yet a few strokes and the door lies in fragments and out of the thick smoke which comes up over there the flame will soon burst forth.

The beleaguered know it. An attempt to avert the threatened danger must be made. They must risk a sally. Two of them must do it. Which two?

"I!" called out the brave minister. "Why is it not suitable for me?"

"I!" cried Conrad. "This is my business!"