The Lords of the Wild: A Story of the Old New York Border, Joseph A. Altsheler [the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT] 📗

was hard and painful work for Grosvenor, but again he succeeded in advancing without noise, and he began to think they would elude the vigilance of the savage scouts, when a sibilant whisper from Willet warned them to fall flat again. His command was just in time as a rifle cracked in the bushes ahead of them, and Grosvenor distinctly heard the bullet as it hissed over their heads. Willet threw his rifle to his shoulder but quickly took it down again. The Indian who had fired was gone and a little puff of smoke rising above the bushes told where he had been. Then the five crept away toward the right and drew into a slight hollow, rimmed around with bushes, where they lay hugging the earth.

"Our course took us almost directly into the path of that fellow," said Willet, "and of course he saw us. I'm sorry I didn't get a shot at him."

"Do not worry, Great Bear," said Tayoga. "You will find plenty of use for your bullets. The band has come. Hark to the war whoop!"

The long, piercing yell, so full of menace and most sinister in its dying note, swelled through the forest. Grosvenor, despite his courage and confidence in his comrades, shivered. He had heard that same yell many a time, when Braddock's army was cut down in the deep forest by an invisible foe. He could never forget its import. But he grasped his rifle firmly, and strove to see the enemy, who, he knew, was approaching. His four comrades lay in silence, but the muzzle of every weapon was thrust forward.

"It's fortunate we found this little hollow," said Willet. "It will give us shelter for a while."

"And we'll need it," said Black Rifle. "They know where we are, of course, but they'll take their time about attacking."

"Keep your heads down, lads," said Willet. "Don't be too eager to see. If they're too far away for us to shoot at we are too far away for them too."

Five minutes later and a flash came from a thicket on their left.
Willet pulled trigger at the flash and a death cry came back.

"That's one out of the way," said Black Rifle calmly, "and they're mad clean through. Hear 'em yell!"

The fierce war whoop died in many echoes, and bullets spattered the rocks about them. The five made no further reply as yet, but the forest battle was now on.

CHAPTER VIII THE BOAT BUILDERS

Robert and Grosvenor lay, side by side, propped up partly on their elbows, their rifles thrust well forward, and watching toward the north. They were not able to see anything, save the dark outline of the forest, and a little puff of smoke rising where an Indian had fired. The wilderness itself was absolutely still but Robert's vivid imagination as usual peopled it thickly. Although his eye did not reach any human figure his mind pictured them everywhere, waiting patiently for a chance at his comrades and himself. He, more than any other of the five, realized the full extent of the danger. His extraordinary fancy pictured to him every possibility, and so his courage was all the greater, because he had the strength to face them with a tranquil mind.

A flash in the thicket and a bullet struck on a rock near Robert, glanced off and buried itself in a tree beyond them. He shivered a little. Fancy pictured the bullet not as missing, but as hitting him. Then he steadied himself, and was as ready as Willet or Black Rifle for whatever might come.

"I think that shot was fired by a sharpshooter who has crept forward ahead of the others," whispered the hunter. "He's lying behind that low bush to the west."

"I'm of your mind about it," said Black Rifle. "As soon as he reloads he'll chance another shot at where he thinks we're lying, and that will be his last."

Robert heard the low words, and he shivered again a little. He could never grow used to the taking of human life, even in dire necessity. He knew that Willet had spoken the truth, and that the red sharpshooter would fire only one more shot. Soon he had the proof. The second flash came from the same point. Again the bullet glanced among the rocks, but, before the report of the rifle died, another answered. It was that of the hunter and he found his mark. A cry came from the bush, followed by a fierce yell of anger from those farther back, and then the sinister stillness settled again over the wilderness.

"The Indian has gone!" whispered Grosvenor in an awed tone to Robert.

"Yes, Dave fired at the flash, and he never misses. The cry showed it.
But it will make the warriors all the more eager to take us."

The silence lasted about a quarter of an hour, and then fire was opened upon them from three sides, bullets singing over their heads, or spattering upon the rocks.

"Lie flat, lads," commanded Willet. "This is random lead, and if we keep close to the earth 'twill all pass us by. The warriors are seldom good marksmen."

But one of the bullets, glancing from a rock, nipped Black Rifle in the shoulder. It was a very slight wound, though, and its only effect was to make him more eager to reach his enemy. In a few minutes his chance came as he caught a glimpse of a dusky but incautious figure among the trees, and, quick as a flash, drew trigger on it. There was no cry, but he saw the shadowy figure go down, not to rise again, and the fierce soul of Black Rifle was satisfied.

Scattered shots were fired, after another silence, and a bullet grazed the back of Grosvenor's hand, drawing a drop or two of blood. It stung for a few moments, but, on the whole, he was proud of the little hurt. It was a badge of honor, and made him truly a member of this great forest band. It also stimulated his zeal, and he became eager for a shot of his own. He watched intently and when the warriors fired again he sent his bullet at the flash, as he had seen Willet and Black Rifle do. He did not know whether he had hit anything, but he hoped. Tayoga, who fired for the first time presently brought down a warrior, and Robert wounded another. But Willet and Black Rifle talked together in whispers and they were anxious.

"They won't try to rush us so long as we keep among the rocks," said the hunter. "They know now that we're good shots, but they'll hold us here until day when their main force will come up and then we'll be finished."

"It seems pretty certain that's their plan now," said the scout, "and between you and me, Dave, we've got to get away from here somehow. The moon has faded a bit, and that will help us a little. What do you think, Tayoga?"

"We did not escape other traps to remain here in this," replied the
Onondaga. "We must take the chance and go."

"In half an hour, perhaps. When the clouds floating up there get well before the moon."

Robert heard them distinctly and he glanced at the moon which was steadily growing paler, while the shadows were deepening over the forest. Yet it was obvious that it would not become very dark, and the half hour of which Willet had spoken would probably measure the limit of the increase.

"Can you hear them moving in the bush, Tayoga?" asked Willet.

The Onondaga put his ear to the ground.

"Only a light sound toward the north reaches me," he replied. "Warriors there seem to be moving about. It may be that they have received more help. I think, Great Bear, that the time for us to go, if we go at all, is coming fast."

Willet decided in a few minutes that it would not be any darker than it was then; and, choosing a southern direction, he crept from the rocks, the others following him in line, Tayoga as usual bringing up the rear. They made a hundred yards in silence, and, then, at a low signal from the hunter, they sank down, almost flat, every one listening for a sound from the besiegers. Only Tayoga was able to hear faint noises to right and left.

"They do not know yet that we have left the rocks," he whispered, "and they are still watching that point. Manitou may carry us in safety between them."

They were about to resume their painful creeping, when a half dozen rifles on their right flashed, and they dropped down again. But the bullets did not come their way, instead they rang among the rocks which they had just left. Tayoga laughed softly.

"They think we are still there," he whispered, "and they send much lead against the inoffensive stone. The more the better for us."

"I'm devoutly glad the rocks catch what is intended for us," said
Grosvenor, feeling intense relief. "How long do you think it will be,
Tayoga, before I can stand up and walk like a man again?"

"No one can answer that question," replied the Onondaga. "But remember, Red Coat, that you are getting splendid practice in the art of going silently along a trail on a dark night. It is what every forest runner must learn."

Grosvenor in the dusk could not see the twinkle in Tayoga's eye, but, drawing upon fresh founts of courage and resolution, he settled himself anew to his task. His elbows and knees ached and it was difficult to carry his rifle as he crawled along, but his ambition was as high as ever, and he would not complain. The lone hoot of an owl came from the point on the right, where one of the Indian groups lay, and it was promptly answered by a like sound from the left where another group was hidden.

"I think they're beginning to suspect that we may have slipped away," said Willet, "and they're talking to one another about it. Now they'll stalk the rocks to see, but that will take time, which we can use handily. Come on, lads, we'll go as fast as possible."

Curving around a small hill, Willet rose to his feet and the others, with intense relief, did likewise. Robert's and Grosvenor's joints were young and elastic, and the stiffness quickly left them, but both had done enough creeping and crawling for one night. All stood listening for a minute or two. They heard no more shots fired at the rocks, but the two owls began to call again to each other.

"Do you understand them, Tayoga?" asked Willet.

"They talk the Huron language," replied the Onondaga, in his precise fashion, "that is, their signals are those used by the Hurons. They are asking each other what has happened at the rocks, and neither can tell. Their expression is that of doubt, impatience and worry. They say to each other: 'Those whom we believed we held in a trap may have broken out of it. It will take time to see and also much peril if they are still in the trap, because they can use their rifles well.' We annoy them much, Great Bear."

The big hunter chuckled.

"I don't mind that," he said. "Their worries are not my worries. Ah, there they go again! What are they saying now, Tayoga?"

"Their tone grows more anxious. You can tell what they feel by the expression of the owl. Their fear that we may have stolen out of the trap is increasing, but they cannot know unless they go and see, and then they may be creeping into the muzzles of our rifles. It is a difficult problem that we have given them to solve, Great Bear."

"We'll leave it for 'em, lads. Now that we're on our feet we'll go at speed."

They walked very rapidly, but they stopped when they heard once more the faint cries of the owls, now almost lost in the distance. Tayoga interpreted them.

"They are cries of anger," he said. "They have discovered that we are not in the rocks, and now they will look around for our trail, which will be hard to find in the darkness of the night."

"And the thing for us to do is to keep on toward the south as hard as we can."

"So it would be, Great Bear, but others are coming up from the south, and we would go directly into their arms."

"What do you mean, Tayoga?"

"A number of men are advancing, and