Kitabı oku: «The Ranger: or, The Fugitives of the Border», sayfa 3
CHAPTER V.
THE MEETING ON THE RIVER
For some minutes after Zeb's disappearance, Leslie remained without moving, scarcely breathing for fear there might still be some Indians overhead; but as minute after minute wore by, and no sound above warned him that his enemies were in the vicinity, he managed to creep from his hiding-place and seat himself upon a rock near by.
Now that he was safe for the present, he began to examine his wounds. There being no strong emotion to occupy his mind, the pain again came upon him, and he feared that he might be dangerously hurt; but, upon examination he was gratified to see that he was only bruised in two or three places. In falling, he had first struck upon his feet; his side, from the force of the concussion, came rather violently in contact with the jagged, projecting rocks. This gave a few severe flesh-cuts, which, for the time being, were more painful and distressing than would have been a wound of a more serious character.
Still, he found that he was unable to walk without great labor and pain, and concluded to remain in his present position until morning. He crawled back into the hiding-place, and disposed of himself for the night. Little sleep, however, was gained, and the night seemed the longest that he had ever spent.
When morning dawned, he emerged from his hard resting-place, and, with great difficulty, made his way to the top. Then, shaping his course toward the river, he reached it in the course of an hour or so. Here, to his great joy, he found the boat that he and Kent had left. It was pulled high and dry upon the bank, yet he succeeded in getting it in the water, and, with a light heart, pushed out from the shore.
It was so much easier to propel the boat than to walk, that he had no difficulty in making good headway. He had determined upon no course to pursue, but continued moving forward with a sort of instinct, hardly caring in what direction he went. He was moving toward the spot where once the house of the Lelands stood; some impulse seemed drawing him thitherward.
The truth was, Roland Leslie was thinking of Rosalind and her situation. Although he had spoken to her but comparatively a few times, yet those occasions had awakened a feeling in his breast which he found could not be subdued; his love was growing day by day. He knew not whether she was aware of his passion, but his fluttering heart told him, at least, that she had not frowned upon him.
Young love rests upon the slightest foundation; thus Leslie was encouraged and made hopeful by the remembrance of the friendly meeting which he had with Rosalind. Then, as he awoke from this pleasant reverie into which he had fallen, the consciousness that she was now a captive among the Indians, the thought maddened him. He dipped his oars deep in the water, and moved swiftly along.
It occurred to him that perhaps it would be best to keep a watch of the shores ahead, to prevent running carelessly into danger. There might be Indians concealed or lurking in the vicinity, and he would be easily drawn into a decoy, should he be careless and thoughtless.
He turned around and scanned the shore more closely and searchingly. Seeing nothing suspicious, he was about to resume rowing again, when, from an overhanging cluster of bushes came the sharp crack of a rifle, and a bullet split one of the oars, a few inches below his hand. Seizing his rifle, he turned toward the point from which the shot had come, but could see no person. The thin wreath of smoke curling slowly up from the bushes showed the point from which it had been given; but whoever the person might be, he kept himself well concealed. In a moment another shot was given, which glanced over the water a few feet from the stern.
Leslie began to think that he was in rather a close situation, and clutching his rifle nervously, endeavored to ascertain the point from which the shot had come, determined to return one at all hazards. He did not dare to pass over to the opposite side, for he had a suspicion that they were intended for that purpose. He believed that his person had not been aimed at, but the balls had been intended to pass closely enough to alarm him and cause him to seek safety by pulling for the other shore, where, probably, a foe was waiting. While he sat undetermined what course to pursue, a form stepped out in full view upon the bank, and accosted him.
"Frightened any?"
"Well, I should think I ought to be. Why, is that you, George?"
"I believe so. Come in and take me aboard."
"What reason had you for firing upon me?" asked Leslie, approaching him.
"Well, not any. I saw you coming down-stream, and an idea seized me to learn if you were easily frightened."
"I felt rather nervous when that shot came," returned Leslie, pointing at the hole in his oar.
"It was a close rub; but, of course, I took good care not to make it too close."
"What is the news? What reason have you for being here?" asked Leslie, interrupting him.
"News enough," returned Leland, gloomily.
"Step in the boat and let me hear it."
As they passed down-stream, Leland narrated his story, and when he had finished, remarked:
"Roland, I have sought you for advice and assistance, and I trust both will be given."
"Gladly! Do you think, George, that I could rest as long as your sister is in the hands of those savages?"
"Pardon me," returned Leland, "if I at all doubted. This affliction weighs heavily upon me."
"I suspected this state of things," continued Leslie, "and it is the reason that I hurried down-stream. Yet the uncertainty of seeing you or any friend, deterred me from making haste to your place."
Here Leslie gave the circumstances of his encountering Zeb, and his subsequent misfortune, or, as he termed it, his fortune, of falling in the gorge.
"Then Kent is gone, is he?" asked George, when he had finished. "That is too bad, for we need his assistance greatly."
"In fact, I do not understand what we shall be able to do without him," added Leslie.
"Nor I; and here we are as helpless as if we were already in the hands of the Indians, so far as regards any assistance that we can give Rosalind," continued Leland.
"Oh, don't despair so soon. I trust that Kent will soon turn up, and we shall then have a good chance to recover her."
"Where do you suppose that Kent can be?"
"I can only guess."
"What reason have you then for thinking that we shall meet him?"
"This reason. He saw me fall, and was obliged to leave me for a time, as the pursuers were close at hand. I am certain that, as soon as he eluded and escaped them, he would return to the place for me."
"And find you gone and give you up."
"No; he would search the place, and seeing my trail, would follow it. I left a pretty plain one, and he will meet with no difficulty."
"But suppose the ranger is captured himself?"
"There is no supposition in the case," rejoined Leslie, with an air of assurance.
"Well, admitting what you say," continued Leland, "did you leave a trail after getting in the boat, that will be easy for him to follow?"
"Easy enough. He knows what course I would take, and, consequently, he knows what one to pursue."
"But, even then, can he overtake you?"
"I have not come very rapidly, and I think that he can. I believe that at this moment he is on the way."
"Well, Roland, we have probably speculated enough upon our chances of meeting him. In the meantime, what do you propose that we do with ourselves?"
"As to that, I am hardly decided. There is great danger in our remaining on the river, and yet I see no means which will be so apt to bring us in communication with Kent."
"This gliding down the Ohio in broad daylight, when we know the woods on both sides are full of our enemies, is rather dangerous business, although it may possess some advantages for us."
"I leave the matter with you," said Leslie. "The stream is very broad for a considerable distance, and both of us ought to understand enough of woodcraft to prevent running into danger."
"We ought to understand enough," said Leland, significantly, "but the fact is, we do not. There are so many contrivances these cunning rascals devise for a white man's destruction, that one needs to have a schooling of years in their ways to understand them. However," he added, in a whisper, "I understand that contrivance yonder."
"What is that?" inquired his companion, in some excitement.
"Take a careful look down-stream and tell me whether you see anything unusual."
"No – I don't know as I do," slowly repeated Leslie. "Hold on – yes, I do – yonder is a log, or more likely two or three of them – a raft. I suppose, Leland, it is for our benefit."
"Undoubtedly. It was constructed for the benefit of the white race generally; and, as we come first we are to be served first."
"Let us cut in to shore and give them the slip."
"It may be the very thing they wish us to do. The action of the savages, so far, shows that they are more anxious to take prisoners than to slay men. So keep quiet and don't allow yourself to become nervous."
CHAPTER VI.
THE RAFT
Slowly, silently and gently the boat glided onward – both Leslie and Leland as motionless as death, yet with hearts throbbing wildly and fearfully. The former stooped and whispered:
"There are three Indians on it, upon the opposite side from us. We must pass beyond the log before they will be in range of our guns. They will not fire until we begin to pass them. Take a quick but sure aim, and drop down in the bottom of the boat the instant your gun is discharged."
Nearer and nearer came the canoe to the log, until but a few rods separated them, but not a breath or fluttering of a leaf disturbed the profound silence.
When at the nearest point, scarcely more than two rods would separate them. Still onward the boat swept until its prow was even with the log.
"Ready," whispered Leslie, "you take the nearest one."
The next instant the enemies were in full view of each other. Simultaneously the two rifles in the boat broke the solemn stillness. But not a sound showed whether their shots had produced any effect at all! Not a savage's head, however, could be seen! They either had been slain or else had quietly drawn out of sight when they became aware of the danger that menaced them. The latter was most probably the case, although neither of the whites could satisfy himself upon that point.
As the thin haze from the guns diffused itself over the spot, the same oppressive silence settled upon the water, and the same absence of life was manifest in everything around. So sudden had been the interruption, that, a few minutes afterward, it was almost impossible to realize that it had actually occurred. More than once both Leslie and Leland caught themselves debating this very point in their minds.
For a few moments the two remained concealed within the boat, for they well knew that danger yet threatened; but, nervously excited over the event, Leland, with a sad want of discretion, peered over the gunwale of the canoe.
"Down, instantly," admonished his companion, catching his shoulder.
The report of another gun came at that very instant, and George dropped so suddenly and awkwardly out of sight, that Leslie inquired with much concern:
"Are you hurt?"
"Pretty near it, at any rate," returned Leland, putting his hand to his face.
He was not struck, however, although the ball had grazed and marked his cheek. The instant Leland saw that he was not injured, he raised himself and aimed toward the log. No sign of an enemy was visible, and not knowing but what there might be more loaded rifles behind the contrivance, he dropped his head again.
Peering cautiously over the gunwale, the young man saw the raft gradually approaching the Kentucky shore. The Indians possessing no means of reloading their pieces without running great risk, probably deemed it best to make a safe retreat.
The distance between the whites and the savages slowly but surely increased, and when the former judged they were comparatively safe, they arose and plied their paddles.
"Now if we can only come across Kent, I shall be pretty hopeful of getting out of the woods," remarked Leslie.
"But how is that to be done? There is just the trouble."
"I think he will find us if we only wait for him."
"I agree with you, that it is all that we can do. We will row down-stream a short distance further, where we will be sheltered more from the observation of our enemies, and wait until he comes, or until it is pretty certain that he will not."
Leslie bent to his oars, and the boat again shot forward. Each now felt a stronger hope. The depression of spirits under which Leland was laboring began to undergo a reaction.
Leslie was naturally of a more buoyant disposition than Leland, and seldom suffered those spells of melancholy which are so apt to affect those of a temperament less sanguine. The latter at seasons was more light-hearted than the former, yet adverse circumstances easily affected and depressed him.
The locality to which Leslie had referred was a place in the river where the overhanging boughs and underwood were so thick and luxuriant that it was an easy matter to send a small boat beneath them and remain effectually hidden from any enemy passing up or down the river.
Their plan was to conceal themselves, and thus, while affording themselves comparative security, to keep an unremitting watch for the appearance of Kent. They expected, and in fact were certain, that he would descend the opposite side, which, from their hiding-place, could be easily seen.
Leslie, with a vigorous pull, sent the boat under the sweeping branches, and, coming to rest, remarked:
"There, George, we are safe for the present. An Indian might pass within twenty feet of us, and not dream of our proximity."
"True, Leland, I feel glad that we are thus fortunate."
"See," continued Leslie, "what a nice arrangement. From my seat I can keep a good view of the opposite side."
"How long do you intend to remain here?" asked Leland, whose fears were ever on the alert.
"Can't say precisely."
"Remember that food will be necessary, and soon necessary, too."
"I am aware of that, yet we can do without it for some time. If Kent is going to pass us, it will be during to-morrow."
"Leslie," said Leland, earnestly, "I have been thinking deeply upon our chances of meeting him, and I must confess that they seem few indeed."
"I do not doubt it. They would have the same appearance to me, were it not for one thing. I have been calculating, and though, of course, a great deal of guess-work has been employed, yet I think that I have come to a very nearly correct conclusion. I'm pretty positive that if Kent reaches us, it will be in the neighborhood of to-morrow at mid-day. Not seeing him, I shall fire my rifle. Kent knows the sound of it, and will search for us."
"Perhaps he may not be upon the opposite shore."
"Which will be as well, yet I can think of no reason that would induce him to cross."
"In the meantime, how do you propose that we pass away time and keep off ennui."
"In sleep, if that is possible."
"I think it is with myself," returned Leland, with a light laugh.
"And the same with me," added Leslie.
"Well, the circumstances being favorable, I propose that we commence operations at once."
"A good suggestion."
Both disposed themselves as best they could in the boat, and being tired and fatigued, were soon asleep.
CHAPTER VII.
LOST AND FOUND
The two young men slept soundly through the night. When Leslie awoke it was broad day, and his companion was still asleep. He suffered him to remain so until the day was well advanced. Then each felt the pangs of hunger. Leland proposed that one should land and go in quest of food, but Leslie answered:
"If Kent appears, it will be in the course of a few hours. We had better wait and see what comes of patience."
Another hour of silence wore away. Leland was about to speak when Leslie exclaimed, in a whisper:
"Hush!"
They listened intently. In a moment the steady measured dip of paddles could be heard. Whoever was approaching had little fear or apprehension of danger; for they came fearlessly along, and were moving with considerable noise and swiftness.
Leland and Leslie held their breath as the sound came steadily nearer. Not a whisper was exchanged. The former, from his position, could not discern any object that might be passing, but the latter had a full view of the river.
In a moment the whole force passed before Leslie's eyes. Two canoes loaded with Indians glided past, unconscious of their proximity. Each drew a long breath of relief; but for a considerable time neither ventured a whisper.
"It appears to me that Indians are plenty in these parts," remarked Leland.
"Rather more than I could wish," returned his companion.
"Confound it, it will soon be time to fire your gun, and of course the savages will hear it."
"But for all that I shall risk it. It will not do to let Kent escape us."
"How soon do you intend discharging your piece?"
"In an hour or so."
"Well, see here, Roland, if Kent comes, it can not be expected that he will have any food. The report of your gun will doubtless reach the ears of enemies as well as friends."
"I expect it will."
"And still further: if such be the case, we shall not dare to land for fear of an encounter. We may be obliged to remain concealed for a few days, and no means will be left to procure food during that time. Now, what I am coming at is this: while we have an opportunity to get it, let us do it."
"How do you propose obtaining it?"
"Easily enough. Just let me land, and I will insure you success in a short time."
"But you have overlooked one thing."
"What is it?"
"The report of your gun will be heard as well as mine, and will be as likely to attract the attention of any enemies in the neighborhood."
"That is true, but I can reach the boat in time."
"And although Kent is within a short distance, I shall not dare to apprise him of our situation."
"Such appears to be the case; but you must see that it is absolutely necessary that some means should be taken to secure food."
"I admit it, and am willing that you should try."
"Hold!" exclaimed Leland, brightening up. "I have a plan. You say that Kent, in the course of an hour or so, will probably be near enough for you to fire. I will try and not bring down any game until that time, and the minute you hear the report of my gun you must discharge yours. This will have the effect that you wish, and I shall have time to reach you before any one can come up."
"A capital idea," said Leslie. "Hearing two guns, the Indians will have a little more fear in approaching us, than they would did they hear but one. You deserve credit, George, for the thought."
"Remember, and wait until you hear my gun, before you fire yours," replied he.
"I will wait an hour, George; and then, whether I hear yours or not, I shall discharge mine. As I said a while ago, it won't do to let Kent escape us, and I must be sure to warn him."
"I trust that I shall encounter game before that time; but should I not, you must do as you said. I will return upon hearing you."
"And return instantly," said Leslie, impressively. "Don't wait until the danger is increased. Although it may seem that a few minutes will enable you to procure abundant food, don't wait a single minute. It may cost you your life, if you do."
"I will remember your advice. Now shove in a little nearer shore and I will be off."
Leslie brought the boat to the bank, and Leland stepped off.
"Try and not be gone long; do not wander too far, for it will be an easy thing to get lost in this forest. Remember that it will take you considerable time to reach me, and if the distance be too great, an enemy may be ahead of you. Be careful in all your movements, and be sure to return the instant that my gun is heard."
"I will try and obey you," returned Leland. And George disappeared in the mazes of the woods.
Leslie returned to his former position, and more to occupy his mind than anything else, gazed out upon the broad bosom of the Ohio, as it glided majestically along, through the dark shadows of the forest. It then presented a far different appearance from what it does at this day. No crowded cities then lined its banks. The flaming steamboat had not broken its surface; the canoe, gliding noiselessly over it, was all that gave token of the presence of man. A rude cabin erected in some lone spot in the wilderness, like a green spot in the desert, showed the feeble footing which he had upon the soil.
Solemnly and silently the old Ohio rolled along through its hundreds of miles until it as solemnly and silently united with the great father of waters.
When one has recently passed through an exciting and momentous occurrence, and is then left completely alone, it is difficult to keep from falling into a reverie; the subject which interests the mind most will finally occupy it to the exclusion of everything else.
Thus it was with Roland Leslie. At first he began speculating upon the probable success of Leland's enterprise; then upon the probability of his arresting the attention of Kent, should he chance to be in the vicinity. Having considered this for some time, he reflected upon the dangers through which he had passed, and upon the likelihood of further deliverance from them. This thought called to mind his mishap among the rocks, and he proceeded to examine his wounds, of which, for some time, he had entirely ceased to think. These being not very severe, as we have shown, had failed to trouble him, and he was glad to see that they needed no more attention.
Again left to his thoughts, they shortly wandered to Rosalind Leland. Where was she? Was she alive, or already slain? Was there any hope of meeting her again? Could he do anything toward rescuing her from bondage? He felt certain that she was alive, although a close prisoner, and was confident that recovery was possible. That he determined she should be rescued, and that he should be the one that would do it, was not strange.
Love will upset the mind of any person, and at times play the wild with him. Leslie was naturally clear-headed, far-sighted and sagacious; yet, when he permitted his ideas to dwell upon the object of his love, they sadly misused him. At such times he was another person. He lost sight of the obstacles and dangers which would have been apparent to any one gifted with ordinary shrewdness; and he formed plans which, in his sober moments, would have only excited his ridicule.
Strange as it may seem for such a person to have been guilty of such an idea, Leslie had not pondered upon the absorbing topic for any length of time before he deliberately came to the conclusion to rescue Rosalind in the course of three days, to rebuild her old home, and settle down with her for the rest of his life! Of course the savages would never disturb him, and he should be, without doubt, the happiest mortal in existence!
He was suddenly awakened from his reverie by the faint report of Leland's rifle. It sounded fully a mile distant, and the certainty of his danger made him tremble with apprehension. George, as he feared, had forgotten the warning given him, and, in the excitement, had unconsciously wandered to a greater distance than he supposed. In all probability he was lost, and would be obliged to seek the river and follow it in order to find Leslie. This would require time, and he had already exposed himself to danger by firing his gun.
Although Roland had promised to fire upon hearing Leland, yet he forebore to do it. The difference which a half-hour would make in the probability of Kent's hearing his own gun, would be in his favor. He supposed that Leland, upon discharging his piece, had instantly set out to return, and he wished to give him almost sufficient time to reach him.
Anxiously and painfully Roland listened, with his finger upon the trigger of his gun; and, as minute after minute wore away without a sound reaching him, he began to hope that Leland could be at no great distance.
A few more minutes were passed, when Roland concluded that the time for firing his signal had arrived. It would serve to guide Leland, and, had he not deceived himself, would reach the ears of Kent. Standing up in the boat, he raised the gun above his head, and was already pressing the trigger, when he paused, as he heard the sharp crack of Leland's rifle at no great distance. He waited a few seconds, until the echo had died away, and then discharged his own.
He remained stationary a moment, as though to permit the sound to escape entirely from his rifle. Then, reseating himself, proceeded to reload it. This done, he impatiently listened for a returning signal. He had placed a great deal of reliance and hope upon that shot, and, as he now was so soon to learn whether it had accomplished what he wished, he could not keep down his fearful anxiety.
He was nervous, and listened with painful interest for the slightest sound. The falling of a leaf startled him; and, at last, unable to restrain himself, he determined again to fire his gun.
At that instant there came a crash of Leland's rifle, followed by the maddened shouts of infuriated savages, so near that Leslie sprung to his feet and gazed about him. Recovering himself, he stooped, and, seizing a paddle, began shoving the boat toward shore, fully determined to afford his friend all the assistance that lay in his power.
The boat had hardly touched, when there was a rustling in the bushes directly before him, and the next instant Kent stood beside him.
"Quick – shove out! They are after me!" he exclaimed, springing into the boat and grasping the oars.
"Where is George?" asked Leslie.
"They've got him, and came nigh getting me. Cuss the infernal devils!"
In a moment the two had freed themselves from the bushes. As the yells of their enemies were heard upon the shore, they had reached the center of the stream, and were passing swiftly downward.
