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

"Is it arranged?" exclaimed Paul.

"Yes," replied Henry. "There's a chance of a slip, of course. The torch is set and burning. An Indian may see it and put it out, but I don't–"

The sentence was never finished. The night was rent by a terrible crash, and as they were looking toward the Indian camp they saw a pyramid of fire shoot far up into the sky, and then sink back again. A half minute of dreadful silence followed, when every leaf and blade of grass seemed to stand still, and then through the distance came a long and piercing lament.

"It's done!" said the shiftless one, speaking in a tone of awe.

"The cannon are blown to pieces," said Paul.

"Nothin' but scattered metal now!" said Long Jim.

"Busted up, shore!" said Silent Tom.

"They'll be running in a panic presently," said Henry, "and they won't stop until they're far across the Ohio."

The hearts of the five swelled. They alone, five against a thousand, rifles against cannon, had defeated the great Indian army headed by artillery. They had equalled the knights of old—perhaps had surpassed them—although it was not done by valor alone, but also by wile and stratagem, by mind and leadership. Intellect had been well allied with bravery.

But they said little, and turning back into the deeps of the forest, they slept until morning.

The five rose at dawn, and went swiftly to the place where the Indian camp had stood, to find there, as they had expected, complete silence and desolation. The ruin was utter. All the wagons had been blown to bits, and the cannon were shattered so thoroughly that they lay in fragments. Probably Indians near by had been killed, but the warriors, following their custom, had taken their dead away with them.

Henry, looking near the edge of the forest, suddenly started back at a gleam of red among the bushes. He knew that it had come from a red coat, and when he looked again he saw the body of Colonel Alloway lying there. He had been hit in the head by a piece of flying metal and evidently had been killed instantly. Doubtless the other English had wanted to bury him, but the panic of the Indians had compelled them to leave him, although they took their own dead.

"We'll bury him, because he was a white man," said Henry.

They dug a grave with their knives and hatchets and laid him in it, putting stones over the dirt to keep prowling wild animals from digging there, and then took the Indian trail.

It was a trail so wide and deep that a blind man could have followed it. The panic evidently had been terrible. The warriors had thrown away blankets, and in some cases weapons. Henry found a fine hunting knife, with which he replaced the one he had used to pin down his fuse, and Silent Tom found a fine green blanket which he added to his own.

They followed to the Ohio River, and some distance beyond. Then, satisfied that this expedition was routed utterly, they came back into Kentucky.

"I'd like to go to that little house of ours inside the cliff," said Paul.

"So would I," said Long Jim. "It's the snuggest home we've ever found inside the wilderness."

"An' Indian proof, ez we've proved," said the shiftless one.

"Good fur rest," said Silent Tom.

"Then we go there," said Henry.

They reached the valley the next day and climbed up into the cleft which had been a home and a fortress for them. It was sweet and clean, full of fresh, pure air, and the tiny rill was trickling away merrily. Nothing had been disturbed.

"Now ain't this fine?" said Long Jim, coming outside and looking over the hills. "Paul, I've heard you talk about palaces, them that the old Greeks an' Romans had, an' them that they hev now in Europe, but I know that thar has never been one among 'em ez snug an' safe an' cozy ez this."

"At least," said the shiftless one, "I don't believe any o' 'em ever had a water supply like ourn, clean, cool, an' unfailin'."

Silent Tom took something from his knapsack.

"I'm goin' to git some fish in that creek farther down," he said. "You'd better hev your fire ready. Out here on the shelf is a good place."

Long Jim, happy in the task that he liked, hurried away in search of dead wood. The others carried dried leaves into the hollow and made places for their beds.

Silent Tom caught plenty of good fish, to which they added venison and buffalo steaks, and, sitting on the shelf they ate and were at peace. The glow of triumph was still in their hearts. Alone, they had achieved a great deed for the sake of humanity. They had been through their Iliad, and like the heroes of antiquity, they took their well-earned rest.

The foliage was now in its deepest flush of green. Henry, as he looked over a vast expanse of wilderness, saw nothing but green, green, the unbroken green that he loved.

A bird in a tree over their heads began to pour forth a volume of clear, triumphant song, and the five looked upon it as a voice meant for them.

"It's the last touch," said Paul.

"And the victory is complete," said Henry.

notes

1

The fate of Blackstaffe is told in the author's novel, "The Wilderness Road."