Carried away by such fire and earnestness, Standish and his family ran for the boat. Jim and the shiftless one almost threw them on board, thrust a pair of oars into the bands of Standish, another into the hands of his wife, and then told them to pull with all their might for the fort.

"And you," cried Standish, "what becomes of you?"

Then a singular expression pa.s.sed over his face-he had guessed Henry's plan.

"Don't you trouble about us," said the shiftless one. "We will come later. Now pull! pull!"

Standish and his wife swung on the oars, and in two minutes the boat and its occupants were lost in the darkness. Tom Ross and Sol did not pause to watch them, but ran swiftly back to the house. Henry was at the door.

"Come in," he said briefly, and they entered. Then he closed the door and dropped the bar into place. Shif'less Sol and Paul were already inside, one sitting on the chair and the other on the edge of the bed.

Some coals, almost hidden under ashes, smoldered and cast a faint light in the room, the only one that the house had, although it was divided into two parts by a rough homespun curtain. Henry opened one of the window shutters a little and looked out. The dawn had not yet come, but it was not a dark night, and he looked over across the little clearing to the trees beyond. On that side was a tiny garden, and near the wall of the house some roses were blooming. He could see the glow of pink and red. But no enemy bad yet approached. Searching the clearing carefully with those eyes of his, almost preternaturally keen, he was confident that the Indians were still in the woods. He felt an intense thrill of satisfaction at the success of his plan so far.

He was not cruel, he never rejoiced in bloodshed, but the borderer alone knew what the border suffered, and only those who never saw or felt the torture could turn the other cheek to be smitten. The Standish house had made a sudden and ominous change of tenants.

"It will soon be day," said Henry, "and farmers are early risers. Kindle up that fire a little, will you, Sol? I want some smoke to come out of the chimney."

The shiftless one raked away the ashes, and put on two or three pieces of wood that lay on the hearth. Little flames and smoke arose. Henry looked curiously about the house. It was the usual cabin of the frontier, although somewhat larger. The bed on which Shif'less Sol sat was evidently that of the father and mother, while two large ones behind the curtain were used by the children. On the shelf stood a pail half full of drinking water, and by the side of it a tin cup. Dried herbs hung over the fireplace, and two or three chests stood in the corners.

The clothing of the children was scattered about. Unprepared food for breakfast stood on a table. Everything told of a hasty flight and its terrible need. Henry was already resolved, but his heart hardened within him as he saw.

He took the hatchet from his belt and cut one of the hooks for the door bar nearly in two. The others said not a word. They had no need to speak. They understood everything that he did. He opened the window again and looked out. Nothing yet appeared. "The dawn will come in three quarters of an hour," he said, "and we shall not have to wait long for what we want to do."

He sat down facing the door. All the others were sitting, and they, too, faced the door. Everyone had his rifle across his knees, with one hand upon the hammer. The wood on the hearth sputtered as the fire spread, and the flames grew. Beyond a doubt a thin spire of smoke was rising from the chimney, and a watching eye would see this sign of a peaceful and unsuspecting mind.

"I hope Braxton Wyatt will be the first to knock at our door," said Shif'less Sol.

"I wouldn't be sorry," said Henry.

Paul was sitting in a chair near the fire, and he said nothing. He hoped the waiting would be very short. The light was sufficient for him to see the faces of his comrades, and he noticed that they were all very tense.

This was no common watch that they kept. Shif'less Sol remained on the bed, Henry sat on another of the chairs, Tom Ross was on one of the chests with his back to the wall. Long Jim was near the curtain. Close by Paul was a home-made cradle. He put down his hand and touched it. He was glad that it was empty now, but the sight of it steeled his heart anew for the task that lay before them.

Ten silent minutes pa.s.sed, and Henry went to the window again. He did not open it, but there was a crack through which he could see. The others said nothing, but watched his face. When he turned away they knew that the moment was at hand.

"They've just come from the woods," he said, "and in a minute they'll be at the door. Now, boys, take one last look at your rifles."

A minute later there was a sudden sharp knock at the door, but no answer came from within. The knock was repeated, sharper and louder, and Henry, altering his voice as much as possible, exclaimed like one suddenly awakened from sleep:

"Who is it? What do you want?"

Back came a voice which Henry knew to be that of Braxton Wyatt:

"We've come from farther up the valley. We're scouts, we've been up to the Indian country. We're half starved. Open and give us food!"

"I don't believe you," replied Henry. "Honest people don't come to my door at this time in the morning."

Then ensued a few moments of silence, although Paul, with his vivid fancy, thought he heard whispering on the other side of the door.

"Open!" cried Wyatt, "or we'll break your door down!" Henry said nothing, nor did any of the others. They did not stir. The fire crackled a little, but there was no other sound in the Standish house. Presently they heard a slight noise outside, that of light feet.

"They are going for a log with which to break the door in," whispered Henry. "They won't have to look far. The wood pile isn't fifty feet away."

"An' then," said Shif'less Sol, "they won't have much left to do but to take the scalps of women an' little children."

Every figure in the Standish house stiffened at the shiftless one's significant words, and the light in the eyes grew sterner. Henry went to the door, put his ear to the line where it joined the wall, and listened.

"They've got their log," he said, "and in half a minute they'll rush it against the door."

He came back to his old position. Paul's heart began to thump, and his thumb fitted itself over the trigger of his c.o.c.ked rifle. Then they heard rapid feet, a smash, a crash, and the door flew open. A half dozen Iroquois and a log that they held between them were hurled into the middle of the room. The door had given away so easily and unexpectedly that the warriors could not check themselves, and two or three fell with the log. But they sprang like cats to their feet, and with their comrades uttered a cry that filled the whole cabin with its terrible sound and import.

The Iroquois, keen of eyes and quick of mind, saw the trap at once.

The five grim figures, rifle in hand and finger on trigger, all waiting silent and motionless were far different from what they expected. Here could be no scalps, with the long, silky hair of women and children.

There was a moment's pause, and then the Indians rushed at their foes.

Five fingers pulled triggers, flame leaped from five muzzles, and in an instant the cabin was filled with smoke and war shouts, but the warriors never had a chance. They could only strike blindly with their tomahawks, and in a half minute three of them, two wounded, rushed through the door and fled to the woods. They had been preceded already by Braxton Wyatt, who had hung back craftily while the Iroquois broke down the door.

CHAPTER IX. WYOMING

The five made no attempt to pursue. In fact, they did not leave the cabin, but stood there a while, looking down at the fallen, hideous with war paint, but now at the end of their last trail. Their tomahawks lay upon the floor, and glittered when the light from the fire fell upon them. Smoke, heavy with the odor of burned gunpowder, drifted about the room.

Henry threw open the two shuttered windows, and fresh currents of air poured into the room. Over the mountains in the east came the first shaft of day. The surface of the river was lightening.

"What shall we do with them?" asked Paul, pointing to the silent forms on the floor.

"Leave them," said Henry. "Butler's army is burning everything before it, and this house and all in it is bound to go. You notice, however, that Braxton Wyatt is not here."

"Trust him to escape every time," said Shif'less Sol. "Of course he stood back while the Indians rushed the house. But ez sh.o.r.e ez we live somebody will get him some day. People like that can't escape always."

They slipped from the house, turning toward the river bank, and not long after it was full daylight they were at Forty Fort again, where they found Standish and his family. Henry replied briefly to the man's questions, but two hours later a scout came in and reported the grim sight that he had seen in the Standish home. No one could ask for further proof of the fealty of the five, who sought a little sleep, but before noon were off again.

They met more fugitives, and it was now too dangerous to go farther up the valley. But not willing to turn back, they ascended the mountains that hem it in, and from the loftiest point that they could find sought a sight of the enemy.

It was an absolutely brilliant day in summer. The blue of the heavens showed no break but the shifting bits of white cloud, and the hills and mountains rolled away, solid ma.s.ses of rich, dark green. The river, a beautiful river at any time, seemed from this height a great current of quicksilver. Henry pointed to a place far up the stream where black dots appeared on its surface. These dots were moving, and they came on in four lines.

"Boys," he said, "you know what those lines of black dots are?"

"Yes," replied Shif'less Sol, "it's Butler's army of Indians, Tories, Canadians, an' English. They've come from Tioga Point on the river, an'

our Colonel Butler kin expect 'em soon."

The sunlight became dazzling, and showed the boats, despite the distance, with startling clearness. The five, watching from their peak, saw them turn in toward the land, where they poured forth a motley stream of red men and white, a stream that was quickly swallowed up in the forest.

"They are coming down through the woods on the fort, said Tom Ross.

"And they're coming fast," said Henry. "It's for us to carry the warning."

They sped back to the Wyoming fort, spreading the alarm as they pa.s.sed, and once more they were in the council room with Colonel Zebulon Butler and his officers around him.