A Virginia Scout - Part 25
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Part 25

I would have descended the slope but Cousin clutched my arm, whispering:

"If there ain't no Injuns across the valley we can afford to wait a bit.

If there is, our goin' down would hurry up their attack. It won't do to call out an' scare 'em so they'll scatter. As they are now they can fort themselves in the shake of a dog's tail."

Two women, Mrs. Granville and her sister, now walked back of the middle cabin and picked up some wood. Both were barefooted, and I was close enough to read the expression of constant fear on each face. As they stooped for the wood their gaze was continually roving over the woods on our ridge, and often their fingers fumbled for a f.a.got while their eyes persisted in examining the forest.

Now Dale and Patsy emerged from their cabin and walked to meet Ward.

Cousin groaned aloud as he beheld the girl. There was something in her appearance to remind him of his lost sister. Ericus Dale greeted Ward with a wide flourish of his hand. Ward was emotionless as a Shawnee chief.

Granville and d.i.c.ks hurried to join the three, anxious no doubt to learn the result of Ward's scouting.

His report seemed to please the men, for Granville laid aside his rifle and began chopping a long log into fireplace lengths. d.i.c.ks walked toward the middle cabin, l.u.s.tily singing:

"Ye patriot souls who love to sing, What serves your country and your king, In wealth, peace, and royal estate; Attention give whilst I rehea.r.s.e A modern fact in jingling verse."

This song, six or seven lengthy stanzas in all, was written by Mr. George Campbell, an Irish gentleman, and was popular along the frontier. It was sung to the tune of the Black Joke, and commemorated the successful efforts of Captain James Smith to prevent Philadelphia traders from sending weapons of war to the northwest tribes shortly after the treaty of 1765 was concluded.

d.i.c.ks was finishing the first stanza as he entered the cabin. He broke off sharply to rebuke the dog. Soon he came out with a bag. At about a hundred yards from the cabin, and farther up the valley than any of them, was the lick-block. d.i.c.ks was walking toward this. Several horses broke from the growth across the valley and ran toward the cabins.

"Almost act like they was skeered," whispered Cousin.

"Coming in to be salted," I corrected as the horses swerved and galloped toward the block. d.i.c.ks was ambling along slowly and reverting to his song. The dog suddenly darted from the cabin and streaked after d.i.c.ks, a piece of rawhide trailing from his neck. As he ran he made a great outcry.

d.i.c.ks was very angry to have his vocal efforts interrupted, and he halted and swung the bag of salt in an attempt to hit the dog, all the while commanding him to go back. The horses were now at the block and stepping about uneasily.

"I never guessed that! Come on! Something will bu'st loose in a minute!"

groaned Cousin.

We started to slide down the bank, when a terrible tragedy took place before our eyes. As d.i.c.ks was emptying the salt on to the lick-block the horses sprang back and bolted in alarm, and an Indian's topknot, decorated with wild-turkey feathers, bobbed up from behind the block. d.i.c.ks seemed to be paralyzed. The savage struck him with his ax and the unfortunate man went down, dead before he lost his footing. In the next second the dog, a huge brute of mongrel breed, cleared the block and closed his jaws on the murderer's neck.

This was a signal for Cousin's prophecy to come true. A deafening chorus of howls burst from the woods opposite the cabins, and a volley of bullets rained among the settlers. Mrs. Granville and the two children dropped.

The old Englishman, standing nearer the cabins, staggered and turned around two or three times. Granville, unharmed, picked up the body of his wife.

The old Englishman was very brave, for he limped forward and managed to gather up the children, one under each arm. Granville's sister was practical enough to secure her brother-in-law's rifle and ax. The three, with their dead, made for the middle cabin.

All this happened in the wink of an eye. The Dales and Ward, walking toward the end cabin when d.i.c.ks was killed, halted and stood as if stupefied. None of the bullets had reached them. The girl seized her father's arm and led him to shelter. He was unhurt, but he moved with shuffling steps, much like a tavern-loafer soggy from rum.

We ran to enter the nearest cabin, which happened to be Granville's, but the door was slammed and barred before we could round the corner.

"In here!" sharply cried Cousin, darting through the doorway of the empty cabin.

As I piled in after him I saw Patsy and Dale entering their cabin, but Ward, the white Indian, was running to cover up the valley. And not a savage had shown himself with the exception of the one who had counted coup at the lick-block. This fellow was still in sight and extremely busy.

With our door ajar we watched the ghastly struggle between the faithful mongrel and the a.s.sa.s.sin. The Indian had lost his ax but had managed to draw his knife. The dog's teeth were buried in his throat before he could get his blade loose. I raised my rifle but Cousin laughed and knocked it aside and cried:

"Let him make his kill! It's his coup!"

The warrior staggered clear of the block, his desperate plight blinding him to all else. His eyes were protruding. He stabbed blindly. I cried out in pain as I saw the knife sink to the hilt. But the faithful beast had locked his jaws and the weight of his body was already ripping the red throat open. Dead dog and dying warrior fell side by side. The dog had counted the first coup for the whites.

Now we caught our first view of the enemy. A long line of Shawnees emerged from the woods, running and leaping and jumping from side to side, sinking behind stumps and vanishing behind the scattered trees.

"We've got time to make the ridge back o' here," spoke up Cousin. "We's fools to come in here. S'pose we go."

"You go! I must stick," I told him.

"We can do 'em more good out in the open than by bein' cooped up in here,"

he quietly reasoned.

"You go. I can't leave the girl."

"Then bar the door," he commanded.

I did so, and through a loophole knocked over a savage who had paused in the open to brandish a war-ax thickly decorated with either feathers or scalps.

"Good! We'll make a fine fight of it!" grimly said Cousin as he stepped from a loophole at the back of the cabin. "It's too late for us to make the ridge now. It's crawlin' with the vermin."

His bearing was exceedingly cheerful as he posted himself at the front of the cabin, his double-barrel rifle ready for a snap-shot. He fired the two barrels almost together, and laughed boisterously.

"Two tryin' to hide behind one small tree," he explained. "Got one dead an' sp'iled t'other."

As yet not a shot had been fired from the other two cabins. A voice called from the Granville cabin. I found a c.h.i.n.k in the wall and beheld the face of the Englishman peering from the small end window.

"Who's there?" he kept demanding in a shrill voice.

"Two white scouts. Get to shooting!"

He could not see me but he heard me, and vanished to help in the defense.

Cousin had reloaded and was watching the valley closely. Bullets were plunking into the log walls, but I knew none of the savages were exposing themselves, else my companion would be shooting. From the Granville cabin several shots were fired without any effect so far as we could make out.

Then again the Englishman was calling us. I went forward.

"Hear what I say?" he cried.

I answered that we could.

"Ericus Dale says for us to stop shooting or he can't save us," he informed us.

"He can't save himself!" I yelled back.

"He thinks he can save all of us."

"He couldn't save the man at the lick-block," I reminded.

"Aye. There's sorry truth in that."

"This valley's a trap. John Ward, the white Indian, led him and his daughter into it," I shouted.

"G.o.d help and pity us!" he groaned. Then more calmly, "Ward came back from the woods this morning and said there were no signs of Indians."

"He met them and talked with them, and planned how they should surprise you people. The warrior at the lick-block knew d.i.c.ks would discover him, so he showed himself and made his kill."