The Daughter of the Chieftain : the Story of an Indian Girl, Ellis [great book club books .TXT] 📗

No doubt the Delaware had asked himself the question, for he answered it not by words, but by breaking into a loping trot for Forty Fort, with Ben running at his side. He halted before reaching the refuge, and turned aside among the bushes overhanging the edge of the river, his actions showing he was searching for something.

He speedily found a canoe, probably his own. It had been so skillfully hidden among the dense undergrowth that one might have passed within a couple of paces without seeing it.

He picked it up as if it were a toy boat and set it down in the water.

"Go bring moder—bring Alice—bring Linna."

Ben was off like a shot, for he knew there was not a minute to throw away. It was the season when the days were longest, and two or three hours must pass before it would be fully night.

It would not do for Omas to go with Ben. His appearance at the fort would add to the panic, and be almost certain to bring about a conflict with some of the whites. It was his province to guard the precious canoe from being taken by other fugitives.

Ben Ripley now thought only of his loved ones. He knew the anguish his mother would suffer until she learned he was safe, and he forced his way to the spot where he had parted from her.

It was a sad experience. Old men, women and children, with white faces, were rushing to and fro, wringing their hands and wailing, searching for those whom they never again would see in this life; crowding into the little fort, as if they knew a minute's delay would be fatal; some making for the river, into which they plunged in a wild effort to reach the eastern shore, while among the frantic masses appeared here and there a fugitive from the scene of battle, perhaps wounded and telling his dreadful story of the defeat, with all the woeful consequences that were certain to follow.

With much difficulty and some rough work the lad reached the spot where he had bidden his mother and the children goodbye, but none of the three was in sight. They had been swept aside by the rush of the terrified people.

A cry sounded above the tumult, and before he could learn where it came from, the arms of his mother were about his neck.

"Thank Heaven! my boy is safe! You do not know what I have suffered. I could learn nothing about you. Are you hurt?"

"Not a scratch—which is more than many other poor fellows can say. Where are the children?"

A tiny hand was slipped into his own, and looking down, there stood Linna, with her forefinger between her teeth, looking shyly up at him. There could be no doubt she felt fully acquainted.

Alice came forward on the other side. Neither understood the cause of the turmoil about them. They were not scared, but were awed into silence.

"I saw Omas," explained Ben to his mother; "he saved me from the fate of many others."

"Where is he?"

"A little way off, under the bank, waiting with his canoe, to take us across the river.

"He says we must hurry through the woods for the settlements on the Upper Delaware. Every hour that we stay increases our danger."

"Let me take Alice; lead the way."

Clasping tight the hand of Linna, with his mother at his heels, Ben pushed for the point where he had left the Delaware a few minutes before.

Strange that though the distance was not far, and the confusion seemed to be increasing every minute, the little party had not gone half way when they were checked by one of the men that had been in the battle. He was slightly wounded, and under the influence of liquor.

"Who's that you've got with you?" he demanded, looking down at Linna, who saw no danger in the act.

"A friend of Alice and me."

"She looks like an Injin," added the soldier, scowling threateningly at her; "if she is, I want her."

"I told you she is a friend of ours—get out of my way!"

The soldier's condition enabled Ben to tumble him over on his back by means of a vigorous shove. Before he could steady himself and get upon his feet again, the others were beyond reach.

I am sure he would not have acted that way, had he been in the possession of his senses.

When Ben parted from Omas, he was without a rifle, but on joining him again, the warrior had a fine weapon in his hand. It was not the one with which he appeared at the house. The lad might have guessed how he got it, but he did not ask any questions, nor seem to notice it.

As the party came up, Omas merely glanced at Mrs. Ripley and her child, but did not speak. As for his own little girl, he gave her no notice. Young as she was, she understood him, and did not claim any attention from him. If they had been alone, she would have been in his arms with their cheeks together.

"Go 'cross," said he, pointing toward the other shore.

"Ben has told me what you said: we are ready," replied Mrs. Ripley.

He held the canoe steady and motioned her to take her place in it. She did so, and Alice nestled at her feet, being careful not to stir, for such frail craft are easily upset.

The canoe was small, and the weight of the mother and child sank it quite low, though it would hold another adult.

"Get in," added Omas to the lad.

Ben obeyed. He knew all about such boats, and could have paddled it across had there been a paddle to use, but there was none.

When the Delaware laid his rifle inside with Ben's, it was evident he intended to swim, towing or shoving the boat.

"Come, Linna, there's just room for you," added the youth, reaching out his hand for the dusky little girl.

Instead of obeying, she looked up at her father and said something to which he made answer brusquely, as it sounded to the others.

Retreating several paces from shore, she ran nimbly to the edge of the bank, and with a leap splashed away beyond the bow of the canoe, and began swimming like a fish for the eastern shore.

It was a real treat for her, even though she did not remove any of her clothing. The weather was sultry, and the bath refreshingly cool. Not comprehending the sad scenes around her, she dived, and splashed, and frolicked, easily keeping in advance of the boat.

Truth to tell, the canoe had all it could hold, and Omas, who swam at the stern, handled it with care to prevent it overturning. The water rose almost to the