The Keepers of the Trail: A Story of the Great Woods

The sponger and rammer did their work. The shot was fired and the gunner leaned forward, looking eagerly at the dense woods and thickets to see what damage his shot had done. No reply came save a rifle shot, and the gunner fell dead upon his gun. Paul in the thickets shivered a little, but he knew that it must be done.

The allied tribes again gave forth a whoop of rage and chagrin, and Henry from his place in the tree clearly saw Alloway, waving his sword and encouraging them. "If he would only come a little nearer," grimly thought the young forest runner, as he reloaded rapidly, "he might by the loss of his own life save the lives of many others." But Alloway kept back.

They were now making ready the second cannon, but as the rammer stepped forward the deadly marksman in the tree reached him with his bullet, and, falling beside his gun, he lay quite still. Once more the thousand voices of the warriors joined in a terrible cry of wrath and menace, but the young forester reloaded calmly, and the sponger, smitten down, fell beside his comrade.

Long Jim and the shiftless one, who lay side by side, gazed at the tree in silent admiration. They knew the ability of their comrade as a sharpshooter, but never before had he been so deadly at such long range.

"They'll hev to draw them cannon back," whispered Shif'less Sol, "or he'll pick off every one o' the white men that manage 'em."

"Then I hope they won't draw 'em back," said Long Jim.

But Alloway and the chiefs saw the necessity of taking the gun beyond rifle range, and they withdrew them quickly, although not quickly enough to keep another of the white men from receiving a painful wound. The savages discharged a volley from their rifles and muskets, and flights of arrows were sent into the thickets, but arrows and bullets alike fell short. Many of the arrows merely reached the river, and Paul found a curious pleasure in watching these feathered messengers fly through the air, and then shoot downward into the water, leaving bubbles to tell for a moment where they had gone.

"They're goin' to shoot them cannon ag'in," said Shif'less Sol, "but they're puttin' a different kind o' ammunition in 'em."

"It's grape," said Paul.

"What's grape?" asked Long Jim.

"All kinds of metal, slugs and suchlike, that scatter."

"Like a handful uv buckshot, only bigger an' more uv it."

"That describes it."

"Then it 'pears to me that we'd better back water a lot, an' give all them grape a chance to bust an' fly whar we ain't."

"Words of wisdom, Jim," said Henry, "and we'd better get behind trees, too."

"An' good big ones," said Shif'less Sol. "Ef I've got an oak seven feet through in front o' me they kin go on with thar fireworks."

They retreated hastily and lay down behind the great trunks, none too soon either, as the cannon roared and the grapeshot whistled all about them, cutting off twigs and leaves and ploughing the earth.

"That shorely is dang'rous business—fur us," said Shif'less Sol. "I'm glad they didn't start with it. It's like a swarm o' iron bees flyin' at you, an' ef you ain't holed up some o' 'em is bound to hit you."

"Back there!" exclaimed Henry to the shiftless one, who was peeping behind his oak, "they're about to fire the second gun!"

The discharge of grapeshot again fell in the thicket, but it hurt no one, and the five did not reply. Two more shots were fired, doing great damage to the forest at that spot, but none of the five. Then came a pause.

"The white men and the chiefs have gone into consultation again," announced Henry.

"Why haven't they sent out flankers to cross the river?" said Paul. "I haven't seen a single warrior leave the main band."

"They've been confident that the cannon would do the work," replied Henry, "and besides, the warriors don't like those high banks. Now you mustn't forget, either, that they think we're a big force here."

"But they'll come to that," said the shiftless one. "They don't dare charge down that narrow gorge, on through the river, an' up the hill ag'inst us. Sooner or later, warriors will cross the stream out o' our sight, both above an' below us, an' that's just what we've got to look out fur."

"Right you are, Sol," said Henry, "but I don't think they will do it for a while. They'd like to force the passage without waste of time and go right ahead with their march."

Several more charges of grape were fired into the thickets, and leaves and twigs again rained down, but the five, sheltered well, remained untouched by the fragments of hissing metal. Then the guns relapsed into silence.

"Likely the redcoat colonel has ordered 'em to stop shooting," said Paul. "He won't want 'em to waste their ammunition here, but to save it for the palisades of our settlements."

"Sounds most probable," said Henry. "They can't get any new supply of gunpowder and cannon balls and grapeshot, in these woods."

"What'll they do now?" asked Tom Ross.

"I don't know," replied Henry.

"I wish I had one uv them spyglasses I saw back east, when I wuz a boy," said Long Jim.

"What's a spyglass?" asked Shif'less Sol.

"It's two magnifyin' glasses in short tubes fastened side by side, what you put to your eye an' then you bring things near to you an' see 'em big."

"Then I wish I had one too, Jim. I'd like to see the face o' that British colonel. I know that the blood hez all run to his head an' that he's hoppin' mad. Them reg'lar army orficers ain't never much good in the woods. I've heard how Braddock had all his forces cut plum' to pieces by a heap smaller number o' warriors, 'cause he wouldn't use our forest ways. An' I'd like through them glasses to see the face o' Braxton Wyatt too, 'cause I know he's turned blue with rage, an' I'd like to hear him grindin' his teeth, 'cause I know he's grindin' 'em hard, and Blackstaffe must be grindin' in time with him too. An' I'd like to see them two chiefs, Yellow Panther an' Red Eagle so mad that they're pullin' away at their scalp locks, fit to pull them clean out o' their heads."

"Since we ain't got any spyglass," said Long Jim, with a sigh, "we've got to imagine a lot uv it, but I've got a fine an' pow'ful imagination, an' so hev you, Sol Hyde."

"Yes, I'm seein' the things I want to see. It's cur'us how you kin do that sometimes, ef you want to hard enough."

"I think," said Henry, "that they're going to try the flankers now. I can see the leaders talking to warriors whom they've called to 'em."

"And does that mean that it's time fur us to light out?" asked Shif'less Sol.

"Not yet. The banks on both sides are high and steep for a long distance, and we can see anyone who tries to pass. We must spread out. Long Jim, our great yeller, the prize yeller of the world, we must leave here, and, if any of us bring down any warrior who tries to cross, he must yell even better than he did before. Stretch those leather lungs of yours, Long Jim, as if you were a pair of bellows."

"You kin depend on me," replied Long Jim complacently. "I'm one that's always tryin' to do better than he did before. Ef I've yelled so I could be heard a mile then I want to yell the next time so I kin be heard a mile an' a half."

Henry and Paul went upstream and Shif'less Sol and Silent Tom down stream, taking good care to keep hidden from the very best eyes in the savage army. It was not merely the youthful general's object to make a delay at the ford—that in itself was of secondary importance—but he must turn into a cloud the veil of fear and superstition that he knew already enveloped the savage army. They must be smitten by unknown and mysterious terrors. The five must make the medicine men who were surely with them believe that all the omens were bad. Henry, although the word "psychology" was strange to him, knew the power of fear, and he meant to concentrate all the skill of the five upon its increase. He felt that already many doubters must be in the ranks of the red and superstitious army.

"Paul," he said, when they had gone three or four hundred yards, "you stay here, and if you see any warriors trying to cross the stream take your best aim. I'm going a little farther, and I'll do the same. With our great advantages in position we should be able to drive back an attack, unless they go a very long distance to make the crossing."

"I'll do my best," said Paul, and Henry went about three hundred yards farther, lying close in a clump of laurel, where he could command a perfect view of the opposite shore, noticeable there because of a considerable dip. It was just such a place as the flanking warriors would naturally seek, because the crossing would be easier, and he intended to repel them himself.

He lay quite still for a quarter of an hour. Nothing stirred in the forest on the other shore, but he had expected to wait. The Indians, believing that a formidable force opposed them, would be slow and cautious in their advance. So he contained himself in patience, as he lay with the slender muzzle of his rifle thrust forward.

Finally, he saw the bushes on the opposite shore move, and a face, painted and ghastly, was thrust out. Others followed, a half-dozen altogether, and Henry saw them surveying the river and examining his own shore. The muzzle of his rifle moved forward a few inches more, but he knew that it would be an easy shot.

The leader of the warriors presently began to climb down the bank. He was a stalwart fellow and Henry knew by his paint that he was a Miami. Again the great youth was loath to fire from ambush, but a desperate need drives scruples away, and the rifle muzzle, thrusting forward yet an inch or two more, bore directly upon the Indian's heart.

The man was halfway down the bank, about thirty feet high at that point, when Henry pulled the trigger. Then the Indian uttered his death yell, plunged forward and fell head foremost into the stream. His body shot from sight in the water, came up, floated a moment or two with the current and then sank back again. The other warriors, appalled, climbed back hastily, while from the bushes that fronted the ford below came a series of triumphant and tremendous shouts, as Long Jim, hearing the shot, poured forth all the glory of his voice.

Truly he surpassed himself. His earlier performance was dimmed by his later. The thickets, where he ranged back and forth, shouting his triumphant calls, seemed to be full of armed men. His voice sank a moment and then came the report of a shot down the stream, followed by the death cry. Long Jim knew that it was Shif'less Sol or Silent Tom who had pulled the fatal trigger and he began to sing of that triumph also. Clear and full his voice came once more, moving rapidly from point to point, and Henry in his covert laughed to himself, and with satisfaction, at the long man's energy and success.

The great youth did not fail to watch the opposite shore, quite sure that the party would not retire with the loss of a single warrior, but would make an attempt elsewhere. His eyes continually searched the thickets, but they were so dense that they disclosed nothing. Then he moved slowly up the stream, believing that they would go farther for the second trial, and he was rewarded by the glimpse of a feather among the trees. That feather, he knew was interwoven with a scalp lock, and, as the slope of the bank there was gradual, he was sure that they were coming.

It seemed to Henry that verily the fates fought for him. He knew that they were going to try the crossing there, and they would be easy prey to the concealed marksman. Even as he knelt he heard Long Jim's voice raised again in his mighty song of triumph, and although he could not hear the shot now, he was certain that the rifle of Silent Tom or Shif'less Sol had found another victim. So they, too, were guarding the ford well, and he smiled to himself at the courage and skill of the invincible pair.