Читать книгу Marching on Niagara: or, The Soldier Boys of the Old Frontier - Stratemeyer Edward - Страница 9

It was not until White Buffalo came into the light of the kitchen fire that they saw he was wounded. Blood was trickling from an arrow thrust in the left shoulder. At the sight of this Mrs. Morris uttered a slight scream.

"You are wounded, White Buffalo! Why didn't you say so before? Let me bind it up for you."

"No big heap hurt," answered the Indian. "Only little cut him." Nevertheless, he was glad enough to have the lady of the cabin bind it up, after which he said it felt better.

White Buffalo had but little to add to what has already been narrated excepting that in coming to the cabin to give warning he had fallen in with some rival Indians, three of whom had sought to stop him. A hand-to-hand fight had resulted and White Buffalo had sent one man to earth by a blow from his tomahawk and ridden over a second in such a fashion that the enemy had not stirred afterward. The arrow wound had been received previous to this, but the chief had not noticed it until some time later.

The continued talking had roused little Nell and now she came running out of the bedroom in her robe of white begging to know what was the matter. She gave a scream when she saw the Indian, but quickly recovered when she recognized White Buffalo.

"I thought it was one of the bad Indians," she said, in her simple fashion. "I'm not afraid of you, White Buffalo, am I?"

"White Buffalo glad not," answered the chief, taking her by the hand. "White Buffalo would not harm one hair of little Nell's head," and he stroked the curly top affectionately.

"You said you carried a message," put in Rodney, suddenly. "Where is it?"

From among his feathers White Buffalo produced a single sheet of paper. It was covered with a hasty scrawl, running as follows:

"Friend Morris: The Indians are rising. I think it best that all settlers in this vicinity gather at Fort Lawrence for safety. Shall send messengers wherever I can. Garwell's cabin is in ashes and himself murdered and Mrs. Garwell carried off, and it is said that Risley's cabin is also burning.

"John Smith Tanner."

"Captain Tanner wants us to gather at Fort Lawrence for safety," said Dave, after listening to the reading by his cousin. "I believe, Aunt Lucy, he is right. The rising is so widespread that it would be foolhardy to remain here. We might – "

The youth broke off short and ran toward the doorway. But White Buffalo was ahead of him. Both had heard the approach of a horse. It was Joseph Morris returning, and he was alone.

"Thank heaven you are safe!" ejaculated the pioneer, as he leaped to the ground and came into the cabin. "I was afraid you might all be murdered. So Dave is here. Where is Henry?"

"Gone," answered Dave. "You saw nothing of him, or of Mrs. Risley or her husband?"

"I did not. But I saw Indians – hundreds of them. They are on the war-path. We must get out of here. There is not a moment to spare."

"Oh, father!" The cry came from Mrs. Morris and she clung close to her husband, while little Nell set up a wild sobbing. "Must we leave it all – everything?"

"All but what we can conveniently carry on horseback, Lucy. I believe the redskins will be here within the hour."

Only a few more hurried words passed, and Joseph Morris glanced at the note White Buffalo had brought. The Indian looked very grave.

"My white brother Joseph will go to Fort Lawrence?" he questioned.

"Yes. I see no other way. I would rather go to the fort at Will's Creek, but the Indians are covering that trail already. You will stick to us, White Buffalo, won't you?"

"To the death."

The pioneer grasped the chief's hand warmly. "I knew I could depend on you. Where are the braves under you?"

"Two miles from here – at the Big Tree. Say where I shall meet you and if White Buffalo can do it it shall be done."

"We will go to Fort Lawrence by the brook way, – past where you and I shot the bear and her two cubs two winters ago. Meet me on that trail. Hurry, for we may need you sorely."

Without a word White Buffalo darted from the cabin and a moment later they heard him ride away at the best speed his steed could attain.

There was now a great confusion in the cabin. Knowing that she must really leave, Mrs. Morris set to work to gather her most precious things into several bundles which might be carried on horseback. As well as he was able Rodney helped her, and little Nell also took a hand, bound to save the few precious toys she possessed, including the doll White Buffalo had made for her. It made the good woman's heart ache sorely when she realized how little could be carried and how much of all that was dear to her must be left behind for the Indians to burn or plunder.

While this was going on in the cabin Dave ran to the outbuilding where he brought forth the several horses and saddled and bridled them. Then he let out the live stock, turning the cows into the forest, to shift for themselves. He wanted to take the cows along, but his uncle doubted if there would be time.

While the others worked Joseph Morris looked to all the firearms and got them into readiness for use. Then he rode around the clearing to learn if the trail he had mentioned to White Buffalo could still be used.

"Come, we must go!" he cried, presently. "Hark, don't you hear the distant war-whoops? The Indians are advancing. If we wait another five minutes we may be lost!"

From the cabin came Mrs. Morris, Rodney and little Nell, carrying the several bundles they had made up. Little Nell cried piteously and the silent tears coursed down Mrs. Morris's cheeks.

Fortunately there were horses for all, with an extra animal for some of the bundles. The latter were hurriedly adjusted and fastened.

"Now, Dave, you lead the way," said Joseph Morris. "I will fix things so that the redskins may be deceived when they come up."

"All right, Uncle Joe. But don't stay back too long," was the lad's answer.

Astride of his favorite mare Fanny, Dave headed the silent procession across the clearing, and into the woods. As soon as possible he struck into the brook, that their trail might be hidden by the water. He knew this way well, so there was no hesitation. Behind him came Mrs. Morris and little Nell, and Rodney brought up the rear, with the extra horse. Each carried all that was possible, but the youths had their bundles strapped on, that they might have free hands for their guns, should they wish to use the weapons.

Left to himself, Joseph Morris closed the shutters of the cabin and dampened down the fire with ashes. Then he ran up to the loft, opened one of the port-holes in the roof and placed in it the shining barrel of an old musket which had long ago seen its best days. Behind the musket he placed a pillow upright and on the top an old hat.