"And they have not sent forward anybody to spy out the country, which is better for us," said Henry.

"An' now I kin hear somethin' else," said Shif'less Sol. "They're singin' a war song which ain't usual when so many are on the march, but they reckon they've got at least two or three hundred white scalps ez good ez took already."

Now the ferocious chant, sung in Shawnee, which they understood, came plainly to them. It was a song of antic.i.p.ation, and when they translated it to themselves it ran something like this:

To the land of Kaintuckee we have come, Wielders of the bow and the tomahawk, we, Shawnee and Miami, Wyandot and Delaware Matchless in march and battle we come, Great is Manitou.

The white man will fall like leaves before us, His houses to the fire we will give, All shall perish under our mighty blows, And the forest will grow over his home, Great is Manitou.

It went on in other verses, rising above the creak of the wheels, a fierce, droning chant that drummed upon the nerves and inflamed the brain. Much of its power came from its persistency upon the same beat and theme, until the great chorus became like the howling of thousands of wolves for their prey.

"Ef I couldn't feel my scalp on my head right now," said Shif'less Sol, "I'd be sh.o.r.e that one o' them demons out thar had it in his hands, whirlin' it 'roun' an' 'roun'."

"Guess I won't need nothin' more to make me yell my very darndest," said Long Jim.

"They'll be in sight in a minute or two," said Paul, "and I'm truly thankful that we have ground so favorable. We wouldn't have a chance without it."

"That's so," said Henry, "and we must never lose our heads for a minute.

If we do we're gone."

"Anyway, surprise will be a help to us," said Shif'less Sol, "'cause all the signs show that they don't dream we're here. But jest to ourselves, boys, I'm mighty glad that river is between us an' them. Did you ever hear sech a war chant? Why, it freezes me right into the marrer!"

"They've gone mad with triumph before they've won it," said Henry. "They intoxicate themselves with singing and dancing. Look at those fellows on the outer edges of the line jumping up and down."

"An' did you ever see savages more loaded down with war paint?" said Long Jim. "Why, I think it must be an inch thick on the faces uv them dancers an' jumpers!"

The forest, in truth, had beheld few sights as sinister as this Indian army advancing, keeping step to its ferocious chant. Henry saw Yellow Panther come into view, and then Red Eagle, and then the rumbling guns with their gunners, and then Blackstaffe and Wyatt, and then the English Colonel, Alloway, his second, Cartwright, and three or four more officers riding. After them came the caissons and the other ammunition wagons, and then more warriors, hundreds and hundreds, joining in that ferocious whining chorus. The red coats of the British officers lent a strange and incongruous touch to this scene of forest and savage warfare.

"I don't like to shoot a white man from ambush," said Henry, "but I'd be perfectly willing to send a bullet through the head of that Colonel Alloway. It would help our people--save them, perhaps--because without the British the Indians can't use the guns."

"You won't git a chance, Henry," said Long Jim. "He's too fur back. The warriors will come into range fust, an' we'll hev to open fire on 'em. I don't see no signs of flankers turnin' off from the crossin'."

"No, they won't send 'em up such high hills when they don't think any enemies are near. Make ready, boys. The foremost warriors are now in range. I hate to shoot at red men, even, from ambush, but it has to be done."

Five muzzles were thrust forward in the bushes, and five pairs of keen eyes looked down the sights, as on came the chanting army, painted and horrible. The vanguard would soon be at the water.

"Be sure you don't miss," said Henry. "The more deadly our first blow the better chance we have to win."

Every one of the five concentrated all his faculties upon his target. He saw or thought of nothing but the painted chest or face upon which he directed his aim.

"Ready," said Henry.

Five gunlocks clicked.

"Fire!"

Five triggers were pulled, and five streams of flame darted from the bushes. Never had the five aimed bullets to better purpose, since their targets, broad and close, lay before them. Five warriors flung up their arms, and uttering the death howl, fell. A tremendous yell of surprise and rage arose from the Indians, and they crowded back upon one another, appalled, for the moment, by the sudden and deadly messengers of death.

"Now, Jim, now!" exclaimed Henry. "Yell as if you were a thousand men.

Run up and down in the bushes that your yells may come from point to point! Shout, man, shout!"

Long Jim needed no command. His tremendous battle cry burst out, as he rushed back and forth in the thickets. It was some such shout as the old Vikings must have uttered, and it pealed out like the regular beat of a big drum. It expressed challenge and defiance, victory and revenge, and, to the ears of the red hearers on the other sh.o.r.es, the thickets seemed fairly to swarm with fighting men. The four added their efforts to those of Long Jim, but their cries formed merely a chorus, above which swelled the thundering note of the forest Stentor.

The cords in Long Jim's throat swelled, his cheeks bulged, his eyes stood out, but his voice never broke. Without failing for an instant, it poured forth its mighty stream of challenge and invective, and the others, as they reloaded in all haste, looked at him with pride. It was their own Long Jim, he of the long legs and long throat, who had made many a great effort before, but none like this.

The warriors had recoiled still further. Both Yellow Panther and Red Eagle drew back in the ruck. The singing of the warriors ceased, and, with it, ceased the creaking wheels of the cannon and ammunition wagons.

Henry saw Alloway and his officers stop, and he looked once more at the colonel, but it was too far for certainty, and they must not send forward any shots that missed. In front of the recoiling army lay five dark figures on the green, and they must continue with the deadliness of their fire to create the impression of great numbers.

"Now boys!" exclaimed Henry. "Again! Steady and true!"

Five rifles cracked together and Long Jim, who had ceased only long enough to aim and pull the trigger resumed his terrific chant. This time three of the warriors were slain and two wounded. Henry, a true general, quickly changed the position of his army, Long Jim still shouting, and no missile from the fire poured out now by the Indians, touching them. A few of the bullets entered the portion of the thicket where they had crouched, but the rest fell short. A great flight of arrows was sent forth, but the distance was too great for them, and with most of the bullets they fell splashing into the water.

"Now, boys," said Henry, "creep back and forth, and pick your warriors!

There's plenty for all of us, and n.o.body need be jealous! If you can get any of the white gunners so much the better!"

And they responded with all the fire and skill and courage belonging to such forest knights, knights as brave and true and unselfish as any that ever trod the earth. Five against a thousand! Young forest runners against an army! Rifles against cannon they yet held the ford and flung terror into the hearts of their foes! Before that rain of death, and that thundering chorus of mighty voices, coming from many points, the warriors recoiled yet farther, and were stricken with superst.i.tious dread by the sudden and mortal attack from an invisible foe. Even the face of Alloway, and he was brave enough, blanched. This was something beyond his reckoning, something of which no man would have dreamed, he was not used to the vast and sinister forest--sinister to him--and the invisible stroke appalled him. His courage soon came back, but he cursed fiercely under his breath, when he saw one of his gunners go down, shot through the heart, and a moment later another fall with a bullet through his head. Like the Indians, he saw a numerous and powerful foe on the opposite bank, and the ford was narrow and steep.

"They're drawing back for a conference," said Henry. "I believe we've made 'em think we're not a hundred only, but two hundred. Long Jim, your t.i.tle as king of yellers is yours without dispute as long as you live.

You've done magnificent work."

"I think I did shout a little," said Long Jim triumphantly, "but Henry, I'm just plum' empty uv air. Every bit uv it hez been drawed up from my lungs, an' even from the end uv ev'ry toe an' finger."

"Well, sit down there, Jim, and refill yourself, because we may have need of your lungs again. There's no better air than that we find in the forest here, and you'll have plenty of time, as they won't be through with that conference yet for at least five minutes."

Henry saw the savages gathered in a great ma.s.s, well out of rifle shot, and, on a little hill back of them, the British officers, the renegades and the chiefs were talking earnestly. Beyond all possible doubt they had agreed that they were confronted by a formidable force. The proof of it lay before them. Valiant warriors had fallen and the two slain gunners could not be replaced. Henry knew that it was a bitter surprise to them, and they must think that the settlers, hearing of the advance against them, had sent forward all the men they could raise to form the ambush at the ford.

He was full of elation, and so were his comrades. Five against an army!

and the five had stopped the army! Rifles against cannon. And the rifles had stopped the cannon! The two slain gunners were proof of an idea already in his mind, and now that idea enlarged automatically. They would continue to pick off the gunners. What were a few warriors slain out of a ma.s.s of a thousand! But there were only seven or eight gunners, no, five or six, because two were gone already! He whispered to his comrades to shoot a gunner whenever there was a chance, and they nodded in approval.

The conferences lasted some time, and the gorge in front of them was filled with savages, a great ma.s.s of men with tufted scalp locks, some bare to the waist, others wrapped in gaudy blue or red or yellow blankets, a restless, shifting ma.s.s, upon which the sun poured brilliant rays, lighting up the savage faces as if they were shot with fire. It was a strange scene, buried in the green wood, one of the unknown battles that marked the march of the republic from sea to sea. As the five stared from their covert at the savage army the vivid colors were like those of shifting gla.s.s in a kaleidoscope. The whole began to seem unreal and fantastic, the stuff of dreams. To Paul, in particular, whose head held so much of the past, it was like some old tale out of the Odyssey, with Ulysses and his comrades confronting a new danger in barbaric lands.

"They're about to do somethin'," whispered the shiftless one.

"So I think," said Henry.

The British officers, the renegades and the chiefs walked down from the mound. Among the savages arose a low hum which quickly swelled into a chant, and Henry interpreted it as a sign that they now expected victory. How! He wondered, but he did not wonder long.

"They're goin' to use the cannon," said the shiftless one.

It seemed strange to Henry that he had not thought of this before, but now that the danger was imminent his mind met it with ready resource.

"We must crawl into a hole, boys," he said, "and stay there while the cannon b.a.l.l.s pa.s.s over us."

"Here's a gully," said the shiftless one, "and it will hold us all."

"The rest of you go into it," said Henry. "I've changed my mind about myself."

"What are you thinking of?" asked Paul.