He reined up his horse, and, shading his eyes with his hand, gazed at them steadily. "No, that"s a waggon, and coming this way too," he answered, "they may be emigrants who have turned back either because they have been frightened by Indians, or having lost some of their cattle by the floods have found it impossible to proceed; supposing the latter to be the case, they appear to be coming on very rapidly."
"They seem to me to be running away from enemies," I observed, "however, we shall soon know."
"At all events we must try to select our camping-ground before they come up, or they may occupy it," answered Mr Tidey, "there is a stream to the right bordered by trees. It is just the spot we want. Ride back, Mike, and hurry on the waggons. We shall have formed our camp before the strangers arrive."
While Mr Tidey rode in the direction towards which he pointed, I galloped back and gave notice of the approach of a train from the westward. I had observed an easy pa.s.s among the hills which led down to the stream, and through it I was able to guide our waggons. We reached the ground selected by Mr Tidey in good time to camp before dark, and our arrangements had just been concluded when the strangers approached.
As they drew near, my father and I went to meet them, to show them a spot near ours where they might encamp. Two men, seeing us coming, advanced towards us: one of them was a st.u.r.dy, strong, bold fellow, but the other had nothing of the backwoodsman about him in appearance.
"Glad to fall in with you, strangers," said the first; "and if you follow my advice, you will turn back with us, unless you wish to have your scalps taken by the Indians or your cattle drowned by the floods, or if you escape them, to die of hunger and thirst as you travel over the desert to the westward, though it"s my opinion you"ll never get many days journey from this."
"Your report, friend, is not very encouraging," answered my father, "though, as I am prepared to encounter some difficulty, I cannot promise to follow your advice; however, as we shall spend the evening together we shall hear more of what you have gone through. To save you time, we looked out for a spot for your camp. You cannot do better than occupy it."
The stranger thanked us. "Whereabouts is it?" he asked.
"It is a little to the westward of where our waggons are drawn up."
"I"d rather go further east," said the stranger when he saw it, "and place you between ourselves and the redskins. We"ve had one battle already, and to say the truth have no stomachs for another. You may take your turn next, should they come, and I am not certain that they will not before daybreak."
"You are welcome to camp where you like," answered my father, amused at the stranger"s cowardice, of which he did not seem at all ashamed; "we shall look to you, however, to help us in driving back the redskins if they make their appearance."
We, however, a.s.sisted the strangers in finding a suitable spot a little to the eastward of our camp, and in a short time they drew up their waggons on it.
As soon as we had finished supper my father and Uncle Denis and I went over to the strangers" camp, to hear a further account of their proceedings.
The story they gave of the dangers they had encountered was sufficiently alarming to make persons less determined than my father and uncle give up the expedition they had undertaken. They had narrowly escaped being carried away by a flood the previous evening, and had been only the day before surrounded by a body of Indians, with whom, as it turned out, they had only exchanged shots, when the redskins had retreated without blood being shed. They mentioned, however, another train of four or five waggons which had been some way ahead of them, and told us that they had considerable apprehensions as to their fate.
"We will hope for the best," said my father, "if the people are prudent and keep a careful watch, I believe they may easily beat off any Indians of these parts, who never attack white men unless they can take them by surprise."
We did our best to persuade our new acquaintances to turn back once more with us, but they had so completely lost heart that nothing we could say had any effect.
"No, no, friend," answered their leader, "we committed a folly in leaving our comfortable farm in Ohio. We have made up our minds to be wiser in future, and look out for another location eastward, beyond the reach of the Indians. If you are wise, you will do the same."
"From my experience I should say that we are as likely to be annoyed by white men as the redskins, and by treating the latter honestly I hope that we shall gain their friendship and have no cause to dread them,"
said my father.
"You"ll act as you judge best, but I have warned you of what you may have to expect," was the answer.
We parted the next morning with mutual expressions of good will, and while the returning emigrants hurried off eastward, we continued our course to the west, the marks made by their waggon wheels enabling us to proceed rapidly until we reached the spot where they had encamped the previous night. Here the truth of their story was corroborated by the appearance of Indian trails which led away westward. We encamped a little further on, and of course kept a careful watch at night, but no enemy appeared.
Next afternoon Mr Tidey and I were riding ahead followed by Boxer and another of our dogs--without whom indeed, we never left the camp, as they were sure to give us timely warning should any Indians be lurking around. We knew, however, that they would not attack the red-men, of whom they seemed to have an instinctive dread, but would silently slink close to us, should any enemies be near. We were looking out, as may be supposed, for Indian trails, as well as for those of the other emigrant train of which we had heard, when we saw signs on the ground which at first puzzled us. We dismounted to examine them more carefully.
"If we had an Indian guide, he would quickly tell us what they mean,"
observed the Dominie. "See, here are oxen and wheel tracks, and these are the marks of moccasins. I suspect that a party of Indians out on the war-path have followed the waggons, and I fear after all that the emigrants were not so far wrong in their conjectures as we supposed. I only hope the people on ahead have kept a careful watch and beaten back their wily foe."
"Let us push on, and try to overtake the Indians before they attack the train," I said. "When they see another party of white men approaching, they may judge it prudent to give up their enterprise; and if they pursue us, our fast horses will enable us easily to keep out of their way."
The Dominie, though not blind to the risk we might run, agreed to my proposal; the ground was open and level, and there was no brushwood either to the right or left which might conceal a lurking foe. We accordingly put our horses into a gallop, believing that we should soon come up with the train, or get sight of the Indians, should they still be following it. "The redskins will be looking ahead, and will not discover us until we have seen them," I observed.
Suddenly the dogs, which had been keeping alongside us, dashed forward, just at the moment that we, from the unevenness of the ground, were compelled to pull up. On reaching the summit of one of the undulations rather than hills, which rise in different parts of the prairie, we saw some objects in the distance which we both agreed must be waggons. As we got nearer we saw that two were upset, and that from a third smoke was ascending, while from another the tilt had been torn off, one only remaining intact.
"That must be the train we are in search of," observed the Dominie; "it has too evidently been attacked by the Indians; but I see no one moving about. Perhaps the savages caught sight of us, and supposing that we were at the head of a large party, have gone off. We may be in time to help some of the poor people, if any have escaped with their lives, though I fear the worst, as the redskins seldom leave their work half finished, and the chances are that all the white men have been killed."
We rode forward as fast as the rugged nature of the ground would allow, prepared at any moment to wheel round and gallop back should we catch sight of the savages.
We hoped, however, as the dogs did not return, that we should have no trouble on that account. We were still at some distance from the waggons, when we heard a loud yelping and barking.
"Those sounds came from a pack of wolves," exclaimed Mr Tidey; "I see the brutes, they are calling to each other, expecting to enjoy a banquet on the dead bodies of the slain."
Directly afterwards we caught sight of the animals making their way through the brushwood and trees which surrounded the waggons. Above their hideous yelps we could distinguish the deep honest bark of our own dogs. Forgetting for the moment the risk we ran of being surprised, we put spurs to our horses, and galloping over the uneven ground soon got up to the spot. Neither cattle nor horses were visible, they had evidently been carried off. The scene which soon met our eyes filled us with horror.
On the ground lay half-a-dozen men, each of whom had been scalped and their bodies partly stripped. Farther on were two or three more, who had fallen between the waggons. Some of the wolves, more daring than their companions, had advanced at the head of the pack, and would already have commenced the horrible repast had not our two n.o.ble dogs, barking furiously, kept them at bay.
"I am afraid we are too late here to be of any use except to bury the dead," observed Mr Tidey as we surveyed the melancholy scene. "But holloa! what is that among the bushes? A woman,--I see her moving.
Perhaps we may be in time to save her."
Forgetting that the Indians might still be at hand, we dismounted, and fastening our horses to the wheels of one of the waggons, made our way through the brushwood. As we did so, a couple of wolves approached from an opposite direction, and were on the point of seizing the woman"s body, when Boxer and his companion springing forward, they took to flight. We hurried to the a.s.sistance of the poor woman. We now saw that it was not she who had moved, but a little girl whose arms were thrown round her.
"Oh! come help Lily!" exclaimed the child, at once recognising us as white men: "look up mother! oh, mother, mother! speak to Lily, one word.
White man come to help you, no fear now."
In vain, however, Lily called to her mother. While I took the child in my arms, Mr Tidey knelt down by the side of the poor lady. The blood which flowed from her breast, and dyed the ground on which she lay, too plainly told that she had received a mortal wound.
"She is beyond our help," he said; "but I would prevent her body being devoured by these abominable brutes. Do you carry the child, and I will convey the poor mother into the nearest waggon. We can cover her up sufficiently to prevent the wolves getting at her until we return, when we can bury her decently, as well as the rest of the murdered people."
I did as he advised, and was making my way to where we had left the horses, when I heard a loud explosion, and fragments of all sorts came whizzing through the air: mercifully none of them struck me. I looked round, and was thankful to see Mr Tidey safe. I had forgotten the waggon which we had seen burning. The horses, terrified by the sound, reared and plunged, and broke their bridles. The Dominie, letting the body fall, rushed after his horse; fortunately catching it, he galloped after mine in the direction from which we had come, and I found myself standing alone in the midst of the blackened train, with the little girl clinging to my neck and crying bitterly for her mother to speak to her, while the wolves, driven to a distance by the explosion, howled and yelped around me, though kept from again approaching by the gallant dogs and the shouts I raised for the purpose of keeping them at bay.
I felt that I was in a fearful position. At any moment the savages might return, in the hopes of obtaining more plunder. I had my rifle, and I determined to defend the little girl and myself to the last. A new danger arose: the waggon was burning furiously; the flames might ignite the others, which in all probability also contained kegs of powder, and it was more than likely that the gra.s.s would be set on fire and the whole prairie would be in a blaze. Not only should I and my young companion lose our lives, but my friends would be exposed to the most fearful danger. I must endeavour, I saw, to make some effort to prevent the catastrophe; but I had not the heart to force the little girl"s arms from around my neck, and to place her on the ground. I endeavoured to tranquillise her by every means I could think of. At last I bethought me of placing her in the only waggon which remained upright.
"Stay quiet there, Lily," I observed; "no one will hurt you, and I will come back as soon as possible. I want to try and put out that fire, or it will do us harm."
"Don"t leave me, don"t leave me," cried Lily; but as she did not resist.
I placed her in the waggon, and begged her to be quiet, while I seized a long stick which lay on the ground, and rushing up to the fire, beat out the flames which already rose from the gra.s.s. Mercifully it was not so thick there as in other places a short distance off. I rushed round and round the burning ma.s.s, now and then being just in time to reach a snake-like line of flame which was extending towards the brushwood or in the direction of the tall gra.s.s, which, had it gained, nothing could have stopped the dreaded catastrophe. I was thus engaged when I heard a loud holloa! For a moment I thought the Indians were upon me, but on looking up, I saw Mr Tidey, leading my horse and followed by Uncle Denis. They were soon up to me, and leaping from their steeds, without stopping to ask questions, commenced stamping out the smouldering fire, which a sudden puff of wind might soon have raised again into a flame.
Not until they had succeeded in overcoming the threatened danger did they speak a word. Uncle Denis then told me that they had heard the report; and fearing that we might be exposed to danger, he had galloped forward to ascertain the cause, leaving the waggons under the command of my father, who had made every preparation for resistance in case they should be attacked by the Indians. He had seen Mr Tidey catch my horse, and had been very anxious lest some accident should have befallen me. A few words served to explain what had happened, and I then hurried back to poor little Lily.
"We are safe now, Lily," I said, "and you must come with me. Do you think you could sit on my horse, while we gallop over the ground?"
"Oh yes, Lily often used to sit on Uncle John"s horse. I not afraid,"
she answered. "But mother, where is mother?"
"That other man will take care of her," I answered evasively. "Come, I want to carry you to friends; I"ve got a little sister, who would be so glad to see you, and so will my mother. She, I know, will take care of you."
"Lily will go with you," she answered.
Mounting my horse, I called to Uncle Denis to place Lily in front of me on the saddle.
"Go on, Mike," he said; "we will do as Mr Tidey proposed with the poor lady, and follow close behind you. The sooner we rejoin the waggons the better, for one can never tell what tricks the redskins may play us.
Tell your father that I think he had better camp as soon as he can find a suitable spot."
I did not stop for further directions, but rode off as fast as I could venture to go, holding Lily tightly with my right arm round her waist before me. I very naturally, as I rode along, kept a look-out on either side, half expecting to see a party of Indians creeping forward to cut me off. I was thankful when I caught sight of the waggons approaching with my father at their head. His astonishment at beholding my young companion was very great. I stopped but for a moment to tell him what had occurred. He ordered the waggons to halt, that I might give Lily over to my mother. She and Kathleen uttered exclamations of surprise at seeing the little girl, while Dio, who was on foot, ran forward and lifted her into the waggon.