However, there was nothing like trying. I first ascertained from our guides and the scouts the line of country which afforded most shelter, and then directed them to lead us along it. Though speed was important, concealment, till we could make a rush at the Indians, was still more so; and I therefore ordered, as we got nearer, all the men to dismount, and to lead their horses, one following another, in single file, so that there would be less risk of our being perceived. I threw out scouts at the same time, that we might not ourselves be surprised. As we advanced, we listened anxiously for the sound of firing, to a.s.sure us that our friends were still holding out. Not hearing any shots, I was considering whether we ought not to mount and dash on all risks, when one of my companions a.s.sured me that there was no hurry, that the Indians were too wary to attack the fort till long after our friends had ceased firing, and that very likely they would attempt to starve them out. Thus rea.s.sured, we cautiously continued our progress as before.

Our well-trained hones seemed to understand the necessity for silence, and, it appeared to me, trod as cautiously as any of the party. At last, emerging from a valley, the report of a musket-shot reached our ears; another and another followed; they sounded louder and louder; we knew that at all events our friends were still holding out, and, what was of infinite consequence, that the Indians would be so engaged in front, that they would probably not discover our approach in their rear.

But a thin belt of wood intervened between us and the enemy. I called a halt. Every man looked to the priming of his rifle and pistols, and felt that his sword drew easily from the scabbard. At a word they sprang into their saddles. Still I was unwilling to order a charge till we had got so close that we could not fail to be discovered. Ready, indeed, very nearly betrayed us, by barking at an Indian dog which strayed up to us, and I had to call him off, to prevent a combat, but not without difficulty, as he seemed highly delighted at having found an antagonist worthy of his prowess. We now pushed steadily on; not a shot was fired from the fort. We guessed, and rightly, that our friends'

powder was expended. The Indians redoubled their fire, and with terrific yells were pushing on in dense ma.s.ses towards the fort.

"They have calculated to a nicety the quant.i.ty of ammunition used, and they know that it is all expended," observed the person who rode next me. The Indians were, apparently, not much better supplied with powder and shot. We could see our friends springing to the ramparts to receive the savages, who were rushing up the hill-side in overwhelming numbers, intent on taking the scalps of those who had so long resisted their attacks. In a few minutes more, there could be little doubt that none of our friends would have been left alive. We had reached the very edge of the wood, and as we were full in view of the savages, we should have been perceived by them, had they not been so intent on the attack as not to turn their heads towards us. Our friends might have seen us, but they took us, we guessed, for a fresh body of their foes. The time was come agreeably to undeceive them. Forming my party by signs in close ranks, I led them slowly on, so as to get still nearer, if possible, before we commenced our charge. The frightful yells of the savages prevented their usually quick ears from detecting the footfall of our horses. I looked round at my men. Their knees were pressed tight to their saddles; their teeth were firm set; their heads, with their eyes wide open, were bent forward: their hands grasped their swords.

Already, in antic.i.p.ation, the onslaught had commenced. There was no necessity for longer holding them in. I shook my reins, and waved my sword. We should be among the foe while our horses were fresh and vigorous. On we dashed. We could no longer restrain from giving way to a loud shout. The Redskins heard it and turned their heads. Our friends heard it too, and, recognising us, returned it with a will; but their voices sounded weak and faint. The Indians who were climbing the hill sprang down to join their companions, who hurried together in a ma.s.s to oppose us; but they seemed to be a mob without a leader, and, unaccustomed to fight except on horseback, they were utterly unprepared to withstand a charge of hors.e.m.e.n. We galloped towards them on their front; our friends rushing down from the hill, attacked them furiously in flank. In another instant we were upon them. The front ranks stood bravely, and seizing our horses' reins, endeavoured to grapple with us; but we shook them off, and cut them down, and went on riding through and through them, till the greater number fled on every side. Some fought to the last, trying to wound us and our horses; with most of these our friends on foot settled; we disposed of the rest, and then galloped on in pursuit of the flying mult.i.tude. I shouted to my men to keep together, for I caught sight of a group of horses, held by Indians, in the distance; and I knew that if we could capture them, we should have little difficulty in overtaking the men on foot. Unfortunately several of my party, unaccustomed to discipline, had scattered on either side in pursuit of the flying foe. Some of the Indians had turned to bay, and were fighting furiously with them, and more than one man was wounded or unhorsed by the savages. In the meantime, the Indians who held the horses seeing us coming, mounted and galloped off at full speed, the whole stud following them at a rate which precluded all hopes of their being overtaken.

Our victory was complete, but an important object would be lost unless we could make prisoners of some chiefs or leading men, whom we might hold as hostages for the delivery of the people who had been first carried off. We were by this time at some distance from the hill, at the foot of which our friends were a.s.sembled. I shouted to all my followers, who were considerably scattered, to a.s.semble round me, and directed them, having fixed on three or four of the fugitives, who by their costume we supposed might be chiefs, to ride after them and to take them prisoners. All were, however, by this time at a considerable distance. Three of the Indians we pursued managed to catch some of the horses galloping round, and leaping on their backs were soon out of sight. One tall chief alone, who seemed to be wounded, did not attempt to fly, but leaning on his spear calmly awaited our coming. I was in great hopes of taking him without resistance, but as we got close up to him he sprang forward in a defensive att.i.tude, thrusting his spear at us, and evidently resolved to fight to the last. He had already wounded one of our men and two of our horses, when a Spaniard, whom he was attacking, drew his pistol and fired at him. With a ferocious grin on his countenance he sprang into the air, and fell forward on his face, dead.

We now rode back to join our friends, anxious to hear an account of their adventures. The field was strewed on every side with dead bodies of Indians. We had killed nearly thirty, while two of our own men had fallen and four had been wounded. On reaching the hill we were warmly greeted by our friends, whose haggard looks told the sufferings they had endured, even before they had time to describe them. They had, it appeared, day after day, perseveringly pursued the enemy, whose traces they were on, but with whom they could not manage to come up. At length they got within four or five miles of them, and began to entertain hopes of surprising their camp. Preparations were made, and they were actually advancing to the attack when the scouts brought in word that the Indians had disappeared. They were now well into the Indian territory, and it was necessary to advance with the greatest caution.

They were in the neighbourhood of the hill where we found them, when the scouts brought word that, at a short distance off, there was a large camp of Indians containing a number of warriors, quite capable of overwhelming them. It might have been wiser to retreat, but instead of doing that they at once rode up to the top of the hill, and began throwing up fortifications from such materials as were at hand. While some were thus employed, others remained in the plain to cut forage for their horses. They themselves had but food sufficient, on reduced rations, for a week or ten days. Their scouts meantime were watching the camp of the enemy, in case any opportunity might occur for rescuing the prisoners. They soon ascertained that their hopes on this score were vain, for preparations were seen to be making for the usual mode by which the Indians torture and then execute their prisoners. Two unfortunate men were thus destroyed the next day, and on the following two more were killed. It was proposed by some of the more daring of the party to attack the camp at this period, and I think that the attempt might have been successful, but the counsels of the timid prevailed.

The consequence was that two of their scouts were caught and scalped, and they found themselves closely beset by the enemy. In this condition they had remained day after day, surrounded by such overwhelming numbers that they had no hopes of cutting their way out. The forage collected for the horses was soon consumed, and, one after the other, most of the animals died. They soon, too, had to kill more for the sake of supplying themselves with food. They had now no means of escaping, and they had made up their minds to fight to the last, and to sell their lives dearly unless relieved. Several of their number had fallen, but fewer than might have been expected.

Attacked day and night, their provisions entirely expended, with the exception of a little putrid horse-flesh, our friends were on the point of rushing out against the enemy to perish in the fight, when we were seen charging down on the enemy. Never did succour more opportunely reach a hard-pressed garrison. What was next to be done was now the question. A number of the Indian horses were still scampering about, and fortunately the greater portion were captured. We were thus able to mount all the heavier men of the party, while the stronger horses were made to carry two men each. As the day was drawing to a close before all our arrangements were made, we resolved to camp on the hill, where we could defend ourselves, rather than risk a march at night, when we might be attacked to disadvantage. Having lighted our fires, attended to our wounded, cooked our provisions, and made ourselves as comfortable as circ.u.mstances would allow, we sent our scouts as usual to give notice of the approach of an enemy. Though the Indians had been signally defeated, they still mustered we knew in the neighbourhood in numbers so overwhelming, that we could scarcely expect they would not make another attack on us. I felt the responsibilities of my office, and could not rest, in spite of the fatigue I had gone through, more than a few minutes at a time. I rose several times during the night, and, accompanied by Ready, climbed to the top of a rock on the brow of a hill, whence I could look out on the wide extent of open country, which, with the exception of small s.p.a.ces covered by woods, stretched around.

Not a sound, however, was to be heard: there was not a sign, that I could discover, of a foe near us. I regretted that our expedition had not proved more successful. We had relieved our friends and gained a victory, but another important object was not attained. We had not recovered any prisoners, and the poor young girl, in whose fate I had become interested, was still a captive in the hands of the savages.

Again I awoke and went to the rock. A few streaks of light were appearing in the east, and grey dawn was stealing over the landscape.

It was time to arouse the camp, and to commence our journey, unless our scouts brought in such information as might lead us to hope that we might recover any survivors among the prisoners, either by force or negotiation. I was about to utter the usual shout to awaken the sleepers, when my eye was attracted by an object moving in the distance over the plain. What it was I could not tell, till it resolved itself into a horseman galloping at full speed towards us. Presently, as the light increased, I observed some other objects still further off, moving at like speed, and which I took to be other hors.e.m.e.n, very probably pursuing the first. The first was seeking us--of that there could be little doubt. Not a moment was to be lost; I shouted loudly to my companions, ordering them to mount their steeds, and follow me. Peter had run for my horse, which was picketed near. I dashed down the hill; about a dozen men followed me closely. I galloped on. The long locks of the seeming horseman, streaming in the wind, told me that a woman was approaching, while almost close behind her came eight or ten savages with their lances in rest, intent on her destruction. This made me the more eager to place myself between the lady and her pursuers. My men came on in good order, while others were hastening down the hill to their support. The stranger was fair and young. We opened our ranks to let her pa.s.s, pointing to our friends behind, and then spurred on against the Indians. Seeing that their prey had escaped them, they turned and galloped off. We sent some shots after them, and two fell dead from their saddles. The rest we pursued for some distance; but, unwilling to tire our horses, and aware of the danger of getting far from our main body, we allowed them to escape, and returned towards the hill. We found a group at the foot of it. They were surrounding the fugitive, who was no other than the young girl of whom we were in search. She had fainted when she found herself in safety among her friends. After a little time, however, she recovered, and was able to give an account of the fate of her companions. Every one of them had been tortured and murdered. She had stolen out of the tent of the chiefs in which she had been confined, and, mounting the fleetest mustang of his stud, had made her escape.

There was now no reason for our remaining in the neighbourhood. We reached the settlement without any further adventure, when I had the satisfaction of restoring the young girl to her friends, and receiving their thanks.

CHAPTER NINE.

I DETERMINE TO RETURN TO NEW ORLEANS--A DRUNKEN CAPTAIN--SAM SNAG, THE MULATTO MATE--A HURRICANE AND WRECK--A NIGHT OF HORRORS.

I had seen enough of life in the outskirts of Texas to satisfy me for the present, and as I had gone there, not from choice, but because it was the country I could most easily reach when it was necessary to run away from New Orleans, I felt that I could beat a retreat without loss of self-respect. Therefore, accompanied by Peter and Ready, I returned by the way I had come, without any adventure worthy of note, to Galveston.

I found a vessel, the _Weatherc.o.c.k_, Captain Parsons, sailing immediately for New Orleans, and, in an unfortunate moment, as it proved, took my pa.s.sage in her. I supposed that after the lapse of so many months I should no longer be recognised in New Orleans, and having purposed to push up the Mississippi to its sources, I did not like to be baulked, and so determined to chance it. Ready was evidently pleased at finding himself again on salt water, but poor Peter was very uncomfortable.

"I hope we shan't fall in with them black fellows as cut all our throats afore," he remarked, as he gazed on the fast-receding land. "I do wish, sir, you'd tramp it back overland to Old England."

Peter's knowledge of geography was very limited, and I thought it scarcely worth while to explain to him that he proposed an impossibility.

"It would be a long tramp, even if there were a bridge; but as there is no bridge just now, nor likely to be for some time, we must e'en go back as we came," said I. "But as we've a good many more places to see first, I cannot promise you a sight of the white cliffs of Old England for some long time to come, Peter. However, if you are afraid to go on, I will either find you employment in America, or put you on board the first homeward-bound ship we fall in with."

Peter looked up at me with a half-reproachful glance as he answered--

"No, no, sir. You wouldn't wish me to go and take service with any strangers in these foreign parts; and in the old country there's no home for me now--all those who made it home are gone. No, no, sir, you'd not wish me to leave you."

"Certainly not, my lad; but I thought that you might be afraid of going on," I remarked.

"Afraid when I am with you, sir!" he exclaimed, in a tone which showed how much his feelings were hurt at the supposition. "No, no, sir; I'll stick by you through thick and thin, now and ever, till you turn me away."

I was sure that Peter felt what he said, and setting as I do a high value on a faithful friend, however humble he may be, I a.s.sured him that he need be under no apprehension that I should part with him without his consent.

This tranquillised him, and he seemed at once to become reconciled to his life on the heaving wave.

I soon discovered that the _Weatherc.o.c.k_ was far from deserving the character which her agents gave her of a fine clipper sea-boat, and that Captain Parsons was a different sort of person to what he had been described. He was not drunk when he came on board, but he very soon got so; and if he turned out sober in the morning, he took care very quickly to reduce himself to a condition of utter indifference to all sublunary affairs. As may be supposed, therefore, he did not make a very direct course for his destination.

While the weather remained fine, this did not so much signify, as a day or two more at sea was of little consequence to me, and I knew that we could not well miss the yellow water at the mouth of the Mississippi; but should it come on to blow--no impossible contingency--we should, I saw, be placed in a very unpleasant predicament. Still there was no help for it; the skipper would not have put back had I asked him, but very likely, in a drunken fit, might have blown my brains out, or pitched Peter overboard.

The mate was likely to prove a more formidable opponent. He was a huge Mulatto, with a villainous expression of countenance. From my first stepping on board, he seemed to have taken a dislike to me. It might have been because he saw that I was a man not likely to stand nonsense.

He dared not show it to me, however; but whenever he had an opportunity, I saw that he gave Peter a cuff and Ready a kick, which, as may be supposed, secured the latter as an enemy, though poor Peter was too kind-hearted to indulge in ill-feeling towards any human being. Sam Snag, the fellow was called, and he tyrannised over the crew, who dared not disobey his least command, and even the captain held him in awe, and disliked him; but they were necessary to each other. Sam Snag, though a good seaman, knew nothing of navigation, and therefore could not get the command of a vessel, and so he had to ship as mate, and preferred serving with a man like Parsons, whom he could govern, rather than with one who would govern him.

Why the mate had allowed the captain to get as drunk as he was puzzled me. I could not help suspecting that he had some sinister object in view.

Three days had pa.s.sed since we left Galveston, and the only notable fact with regard to our navigation was, that, though we had lost sight of the land, we had made very little progress. There lay the vessel on the gla.s.sy shining sea, her sails flapping idly, but with now and then loud reports, against the masts. The captain was perfectly contented, and rather amiably-disposed towards me; for, as he sat in his little hot, stifling cabin--the atmosphere of which could not have been much under a hundred degrees--he sent his boy to ask me to come and liquor with him, and began to be very abusive when I declined the honour.

"That sneaking, white-haired, milksop of a Britisher--what business has he to refuse my civilities, I should like to know? It's his natural pride, I guess, but I'll pull it down a peg or two before I've done with him, I guess," I heard him muttering as I sat reading on deck near the skylight under the shade of the mainsail.

He continued to drink and growl on, and as he got more and more drunk, he confused me with Snag, and abused both of us. From the language he occasionally used, and one or two expressions he let fall, I suspected that the unhappy man had fallen from a higher position in society to that which he now occupied. Now he quoted a line of Latin or Greek, and now he spoke in some Oriental language, Hindostanee or Arabic, I fancied, and swore in it fiercely, and then gave way to fits of idiotic laughter. Yes, I was certain that man had ranked as a gentleman, and now in appearance and manners he was the veriest brute under the sun.

"That's what drink has done for him," I said to myself: "or crime, and then drink to drown conscience; or probably drink produced the crime, and then, instead of repentance, came the more drink, that he might try and forget the crime. I am not in a pleasant position with the companionship of a set of ruffians. However, I have been in many a sc.r.a.pe before, and have got out of them. I hope that I may get out of this as well as I have done out of others."

As the day grew on, however, I became more anxious. The heat increased until it became almost unnatural and utterly insupportable, and the sky a.s.sumed a lurid, brazen hue, which struck me as indicative of an approaching hurricane, or a gale of some sort. I observed the seamen casting anxious glances every now and then at the horizon, but no move was made among them to do anything; the mate was below asleep, and the master was too drunk by this time to know whether the sky was copper-colour, black, or blue, or to care what might become of the ship and all on board.

At last, having thought over all the descriptions I had read of hurricanes, I myself began to grow uneasy, and resolved to summon the mate, though I knew that I ran the risk of a quarrel in consequence. I put my head down the companion-hatch, and called out his name two or three times. The stifling air which came up from below made me unwilling to descend. The mate did not reply. He must be sleeping very soundly, I thought, or else he does not choose to answer. Peter, finding he did not appear, without my leave sprang down below, saying, as he did so, "I'll rouse him up a bit, sir."

"I say, mate--Mister Snag--wake up, will you? Wake up, Mister Snag," I heard him sing out.

There was no reply for a minute, and then came a cry of pain and terror, and poor Peter reappeared faster than he had gone down, with an expression of alarm on his countenance, followed by the mate, who had a thick colt in his hand, with which he was accustomed to belabour any of the crew who offended him.

"For what you make all dat row?" he exclaimed fiercely, turning to me with a threatening gesture.

"To wake you up, and remind you of your duty," I answered, in as calm a tone as I could command. "Look out there; what do you say to that sky?"

The mate gave a hurried glance round the horizon. He did not answer me, but he shouted--

"Aloft, all of ye! Furl the topsails. Let fly topgallants sheets.

Here, you--Britisher, go to the helm, and do as I bid you. You, white boy, stand by those ropes."

There was no time for further orders. The men flew aloft. They knew what ought to be done; but before they could do it the hurricane burst us. With desperate energy they attempted to gather in the furiously flapping canvas. As Snag directed I turned round the spokes of the wheel, and as the ship's head was providentially pointing in the direction towards which the hurricane blew, away she flew before it, like a bird just escaping from the nets of the fowler. Had this not been the case, she would probably have instantly been thrown on her beam-ends. I had to exert all my strength to turn the wheel. I kept my eye on Snag, for not a word could I hear, as he rushed from rope to rope, hauling away with Peter on some, and letting go others.

The sails flapped and struggled with claps like thunder, as the blast caught them, till the vexed canvas tore itself out of the bolt-ropes.

The masts bent and trembled, the yards strained and cracked. I looked up for a moment; I knew that the poor fellows aloft were in instant peril of their lives. They clung desperately to the yielding yards-- clung for their lives--for the rent sails lashed furiously round them, and they scarcely dared to loose their hold for an instant to move in towards the masts. Most of them had lost their hats or caps, their hair was streaming out, their eyeb.a.l.l.s starting from their heads.

A wild shriek reached my ears, even through the terrific din of the tempest. I caught a glimpse of the outer man on the fore-topsail-yard as the leech of the sail, torn to ribbons, coiled itself like some huge serpent round him, and tore him from his hold. In vain he tried to regain his hold, in vain to extricate himself--no human power could avail him. Helplessly he stretched out his arms; the fierce wind unloosened the coil of canvas, and, though grasping at a rope which eluded his hand, he was flung into the seething waters through which the brig was rushing onwards. For one instant I caught a sight of his countenance, as, still desperately struggling for life, he dropped astern, while the vessel flew by him. The mate saw what had happened, but took not the slightest notice. I thought Peter would have jumped overboard in his eagerness to try and save the man. He threw a rope, but it was utterly useless. Even had the poor wretch caught it, it would have been torn out of his hands. When Peter was certain that the man was hopelessly lost, I saw him wring his hands in sorrow, and he was evidently giving utterance to his feelings in words, though what he said of course I could not hear.

Even the gale did not bring the wretched master to his senses, but I fancied that I could hear him singing, or rather howling away in his drunken madness, keeping up a wild concert with the creaking of the bulkheads, the rattling of the blocks, the whistling of the wind through the rigging, and the loud roar of the rising seas, as they dashed against the sides of the vessel. The mate, to do him justice, was the only man of the whole crew who remained calm and collected. How he might have behaved aloft I do not know; still I think he would have been the same. He soon saw that it was impossible for the men to furl the canvas--or, rather, that there was no canvas left for them to furl. He made a signal to them to come down off the yards. It was not given too soon. Some obeyed, and slid down on deck, but before the last two on the main topsail-yard were off it, the main-top mast, which had already been bending ready to crack, gave way and went over the side, carrying the rigging, and the yard, and the two men on it, overboard. They were not shaken off, but still they clung with all the energy of despair to the spar. It was but for a moment. There were several loud cracks, some ropes gave way, the bolts which secured the shrouds to the side were drawn, and the whole ma.s.s of rigging, parting from the side, floated astern. In vain the men shrieked for help; in vain they held out their hands to us imploringly; no help could be given them, their fate might presently be ours.

The next minute the fore-topmasts went over the side, and the fore-yard came down with a crash on deck, carrying away the bulwarks, and crushing a man who had just descended from aloft, and thought he was in safety.

There he lay writhing under it, and unable to extricate himself. I would have hurried to his a.s.sistance, but I dared not leave the helm, and Snag and the other men were so engaged in clearing the rest of the wreck, that they could make no attempt to lift up the yard so as to release him. It was dreadful to watch the poor fellow, as, with the movement of the ship, the heavy yard rolled on his broken limbs, inflicting the most excruciating torture. He shrieked out in his agony, entreating his companions either to release him or to put an end to his sufferings with a crowbar--so Peter told me, for his voice was borne far away from me on the wings of the hurricane. Peter, as soon as he saw what had occurred, in spite of the gestures of the mate ordering him to remain where he was, hurried forward. Still his whole strength could not, of course, move the spar; but getting hold of a handspike, he was able to prevent it from rolling over the man as often as before. Every moment the sea was rising, and as the vessel pitched more and more, the difficulty of keeping the yard off the man became greater.

At last the wreck, by means of axes and knives was cleared, and the mate had no longer on excuse for neglecting the seaman who lay under the yard. With careless indifference he directed the other men how to lift the spar so as to drag out the sufferer.

"He's of no further use," he exclaimed (so Peter told me) when he saw the injury the man had received. "May as well heave him overboard at once. We can't mend broken legs here."