Evelyn Everett-Green - French and English - A Story of the Struggle in America

Colonel Armstrong was one of this party, and he, with Stark and Fritz, cautiously crept up over the ridge and looked down upon the Indian town below.

The moon lighted up the whole scene. There was no appearance of tumult or excitement. The sound of the drum and the whooping of the warriors were not accompanied by any demonstration of activity by those within the community. Probably some war party or hunting party had returned with spoil, and they were celebrating the event by a banquet and a dance.

The soldiers were bidden to move onward, but very cautiously. It was necessary that they should make the descent of the rugged path before the moon set, and it was abundantly evident that the Indians had at present no idea of the presence of the enemy.

Slowly and cautiously the soldiers crept down the steep path, doing everything possible to avoid a noise; but suddenly the sound of a peculiar whistle sounded from somewhere below, and there were a movement and a thrill of dismay through all the ranks; for surely it was a signal of discovery!

Only Fritz was undismayed, and gave vent to a silent laugh.

"That is not an alarm," he whispered to the Colonel; "it is but a young chief signalling to some squaw. But the place is not asleep yet; if we go much nearer we shall be seen. Those bushes would give us cover till all is quiet. We could crouch there and rest, and when the time has come spring out upon the village unawares."

The Colonel approved the plan, and the weary men were glad enough of the rest before the battle should begin. All were full of hope and ardour; but in spite of that, most of them fell asleep crouched in the cover. The surrounding hills kept off the wind, and it was warm beneath the sheltering scrub.

But Charles sat up with his hands clasped round his knees, his eyes intently fixed upon the Indian village. Beside him were a few of his chosen comrades amongst the Rangers-men older than the hardy youths who had organized the band-settlers like himself, who had suffered losses like his own, and in whose hearts there burned a steady fire of vengeful hate that could only be quenched in blood.

To them crept one of the guides who knew the district and the town of Kittanning. With him were his son and another hardy lad. He looked at Charles and made a sign. The next moment some six or eight men were silently creeping through the sleeping soldiers, unnoticed even by the sharp eyes of the Colonel, who was stationed at some little distance.

Like human snakes these men wriggled themselves down the tortuous path, keeping always under cover of the bushes; and even when the open ground below was reached, they slipped so silently along beneath the cover of the hedges that not an eye saw them, not even the sharp ears of the Indians heard their insidious approach.

"Which is the house of Captain Jacobs?" asked Charles in a whisper of the guide.

"It lies yonder," he answered, "in the centre of the village. It is the strongest building in the place, and has loopholes from which a hot fire can be poured out upon an approaching foe. The Indians here have great stores of gunpowder and arms-given them by the French to keep up the border war. Unless we can take them by surprise, we be all dead men; for they are as ten to one, and are armed to the teeth."

Charles's face in the moonlight was set and stern.

"Here is a stack of wood," he said. "Let every man take his fagot; but be silent as death."

Plainly these men knew what they had come to do. In perfect silence, yet with an exercise of considerable strength, they loaded themselves with the dry brushwood, and split logs which the Indians had cut and piled up ready for use either to burn or for the building of their huts. Then, thus loaded, they crept like ghosts or ghouls through the sleeping street of the Indian town, and piled their burdens against the walls of the centre hut, which belonged to the chief.

Twice and thrice was this thing repeated; but Charles remained posted beside the door of the house, working in a strange and mysterious fashion at the entrance. Upon his face was a strange, set smile. Now and again he shook his clinched hand towards the heavens, as though invoking the aid or the wrath of the Deity.

The bold little band were in imminent peril. One accidental slip or fall, an unguarded word, an involuntary cough, and the lives of the whole party might pay the forfeit. They were in the heart of an Indian village, enemies and spies. But the good fortune which so often attends upon some rash enterprise was with them tonight. They completed their task, and drew away from the silent place as shadow-like as they had come.

But they did not return to their comrades; they posted themselves at a short distance from the place. They looked well to the priming of their rifles, and to their other arms, and sat in silence to await the commencement of the battle.

The moon set in golden radiance behind the wooded hills. In the eastern sky the first rose red showed that dawn would shortly break. Looking towards the hill, the little band saw that movement had already begun there. They rose to their feet, and looked from the moving shapes amid the brushwood towards the still sleeping, silent town.

"The Lord of hosts is with us," spoke Charles, in a solemn voice; "He will deliver the enemy into our hands. Let us quit ourselves like men and be strong. Let us do unto them even as they have done. Let not the wicked escape us. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if I reward not unto yon cruel chieftain his wickedness and his cruelties. If he leave this place alive, let my life pay the forfeit!"

A murmur ran through the little group about him. Each man grasped his weapon and stood still as a statue. This little company had posted themselves upon a knoll which commanded the house of the bloodthirsty chief. It was their business to see that he at least did not escape from the day of vengeance.

The moments seemed hours to those men waiting and watching; but they did not wait in vain.

A blaze of fire, a simultaneous crack of firearms, and a wild shout that was like one of already earned victory, and the assailants came charging down the hillside, and across the open fields, firing volley after volley upon the sleeping town, from which astonished and bewildered savages came pouring out in a dense mass, only to fall writhing beneath the hail of bullets from the foe who had surprised them thus unawares.

But there were in that community men trained in the arts of war, who were not to be scared into non-resistance by a sudden onslaught, however unexpected. These men occupied log houses around that of their chieftain, and instead of rushing forth, they remained behind their walls, and fired steadily back at the enemy with a rapidity and steadiness which evoked the admiration of the Colonel himself.

Fiercely rained the bullets from rank to rank. Indians yelled and whooped; the squaws rushed screaming hither and thither; the fight waxed hotter and yet more hot. But all unknown to the Indians, and unseen by them in the confusion and terror, a file of stern, determined men was stealing towards the very centre of their town, creeping along the ground so as to avoid notice, and be safe from the hail of shot, but ever drawing nearer and nearer to that centre, where the defence was so courageously maintained.

Charles was the first to reach the log house against which the brushwood had been piled. In the dim light of dawn his face could be seen wearing a look of concentrated purpose. He had lately passed an open hut from whence the inhabitants had fled, and he carried in his hand a smouldering firebrand. Now crouching against the place from which the hottest fire belched forth, he blew upon this brand till a tongue of flame darted forth, and in a moment more the brushwood around the house had begun to crackle with a sound like that made by a hissing snake before it makes the fatal spring.