CHAPTER VI.

A RECKLESS ADVENTURE.—CAPTURE OF TEDDY.—A VISIT TO THE FLAT-BOAT.—THOUGHTS OF RESCUE.

Teddy announced that he intended visiting the boat for the further purpose of “detecting the apparance of things generally.”

“You won’t do any such thing,” said Smith somewhat impatiently. “You have already made a fool of yourself several times.”

“Be the same token I must then remain one, I suppose.”

“I object,” said the hunter, shaking his head, “it can’t do any good, and it _may_ do a mighty sight of hurt.”

“And haow?”

“I will tell you. The redskins know that we three are bobbing round the island, and so long as they know that, they will give us a wide berth. They know that we’ve got some women with us, and a few more rifles too, but it’s we three that are keeping them away. S’pose one of us gets tuk, what’ll hinder ’em longer?”

“’Spose one of ’em doesn’t get tuck.”

“He will then be killed.”

“But there are no Injins there.”

It is a fact, that a man may commence with an assertion of absolute falsehood and, conscious at the beginning that he is defending such, argue himself in time, into the belief that it is truth. Then it was that Teddy, as he stepped gaily out upon the beach, was greatly relieved of anxiety by his own persistency in adhering to what he well knew was error. He was well nigh convinced of what he had scarcely a hope before, that there were no savages upon the flat-boat.

Teddy had walked two-thirds of the distance to the hulk, and was within a few feet of the water, when he paused. He had discovered a startling thing!

That which arrested the brave-hearted Irishman, was the sight of a tuft of an Indian’s head, visible for one moment only just above the gunwale, when it dropped suddenly from view again.

Smith and Napyank, noticing his hesitation, called out in a whisper for him to return. This very call was the means of sending him forward again. He was resolved that they should never laugh at this adventure, and with rather a quickened step, he strode forward, and grasping the gunwale with one hand, he carried himself with one bound, over upon the deck.

He had left his rifle behind, and was armed only with his knife. His two friends breathlessly watched him and listened. They saw his head and shoulders gradually lower as he walked undauntedly toward the stern of the boat, until the bow hid them from sight, and then all was still.

The silence lasted for perhaps, a full minute, and then was broken by a yell as startling and terrific as an explosion of thunder in the clear summer sky. Instantly a half dozen tufted heads was seen dodging hither and thither over the deck, all centering around one burly, bareheaded figure, that was struggling like a lion amid a score of enemies which had dogged him nigh to death.

While the two men gazed transfixed with horror, a powerful-limbed Indian shot up like a rocket in midair, and came down in the river. Ere he had struck, another went spinning after him, falling flat on his face in the water, with a concussion that cracked like a pistol. While they were swimming with all speed, back to the boat, a heavy fall was heard, a faint shuffling noise, and then all was still.

As the foremost Indian was in the act of pulling himself over the gunwale of the flat-boat, he let go with a horrid whoop, and fell back dead, shot through the brain by a bullet from the rifle of the hunter. The other attempted to swim behind the stern, but Smith shot him ere it could be accomplished.

There could be but one cause for the sudden cessation of the tumult upon the flat-boat. Teddy had either been overcome or slain. The silence that succeeded the fearful yell and struggle was equally painful to his two friends. They waited long and impatiently for it to be broken.

“It’s all up with him,” whispered Smith, as he primed his rifle. “I pity him, but our hands are clear of his blood.”

“Too bad, too bad,” muttered Joe, who had just loaded his rifle, “he was a good fellow, my dear Teddy was indeed. I am sorry that he has come to this bad end.”

“We must look out for ourselves, now. The best thing we can do, is to get off this infernal island, which has been the scene of so much misfortune to us, I am afraid that if we remain much longer, you will take it into your head to perform some such feat, and I shall be left alone.”

“No, indeed, I won’t; there is no danger of that,” replied Joe. “I’ve lived long enough to larn common sense I think.”

“It is yet early in the forenoon, and I suppose we shall be compelled to remain here until night.”

“Of course we shall! It won’t do to start out in the river in open daylight. We’d be killed before we had gone a dozen yards.”

“Hello! did you hear that?” exclaimed Smith, with a start.

Several whoops were heard upon the Kentucky shore, apparently in answer to those which had been uttered some minutes before, by the captors of Teddy. Peering through the trees, Smith added,

“There is a party coming off in a canoe. Get ready for hot work.”

“There don’t seem to be any good chance to hide,” remarked Joe, glancing around him, as though he cared little whether there was such place or not.

“No, we must stand our ground; they have just started.”

The canoe which was approaching was a large Indian one, in which were seated some three or four Indians, all busily plying their paddles. They headed straight for the upper end of the island, while the whites stood each behind a tree, with cocked rifles, waiting until they were compelled to fire.

Just as the canoe seemed about to touch, it sheered off and ran alongside of the flat-boat, where it lay against and parallel to it. The heads of four savages immediately appeared above, as though they were staggering under the weight of some heavy load. The next second, Teddy, bound hand and foot, was handed over and deposited in the bottom of the canoe. His friends could hear him muttering dire threats of vengeance, and daring his captors to loose him for a moment, all of which, it is needless to say, attracted no notice whatever from them.

The captive disposed of, the Indians followed, sinking the canoe to its very gunwales. They paddled away toward the shore, and in a few moments, disappeared from view.

“Now, at least,” said Smith, “the island and boat are free from the imps, and we can have a breathing spell. Let us go upon the old hulk.”

“What in the world do you want to do that for?”

“It is the safest place.”

“I should like to inquire how it is.”

“In the first place, there is no one upon it, and in the second place, as its sides are bullet-proof, we can use it as a fort, and keep off any number of foe until dark, when we can get off ourselves.”

The hunter smiled grimly as if the conceit of the young man pleased him. Adding that it was time they paid their friends a visit, he consented to young Smith’s proposition.

It was with some misgiving, slight enough, but still sufficient to occasion uneasiness, that the young man once more approached the flat-boat. When he reached the deck, he experienced an irresistible desire to explore every portion of it; not that he suspected the presence of any Indian, but that he could not feel positively assured, until he had done so. The result was, that it was found to be entirely destitute of any persons except themselves. The cabin was half full of water, and it was here that the Indians had concealed themselves while their victim was approaching.

This proceeding of the two men, in taking possession of the old craft, was the most prudent thing he could have done. Had the two remained upon the island, they both would have been captured or shot, and the destruction of the entire party completed; but, as one had remarked, they had gained a fort where they could keep ten times their number at bay.

To the infinite joy of both, Joe stumbled upon a loaf of bread, which had escaped the eyes of the Indians. He pounced upon it greedily, and to the two famished adventurers, it was a perfect godsend. This devoured, and their hunger appeased—for it was an old fashioned loaf—both felt hopeful again.

“If there were anything in the hulk,” said Smith, “we might stand a regular siege, and bid defiance to the whole redskin nation.”

“There ain’t a single bit more,” replied Joe, “except a few crumbs upon that shelf there.”

“Gather them up, gather them up; they may do us good.”

“I have gathered them up. I thought they’d git wasted, so I jest rolled my tongue about the cupboard, and finished ’em.”

During this fragmentary conversation, Joe was constantly glancing about the river to see that no foe approached them unaware. The sad experience of the last few hours, had educated young Smith wonderfully. All this time, the reader will have noticed, his actions were controlled simply by necessity; he had taken no step except such as had been compelled by a regard for his own personal safety. Now, that that was attended to, he had leisure to look further into the future, and to reflect upon some definite plan for the rescue of Ruth from the hands of the savages.

This was the great question, and it was this which troubled him sorely. He could not think of leaving the neighborhood while she was a prisoner; and yet he could see nothing at all, that he was able to accomplish against the formidable band of savages. Although he pitied Teddy from the bottom of his heart, it could not be suspected that under the present circumstances, he could do anything toward his rescue.

Somehow or other, the thought constantly recurred to the young man, that something important would result from the fact that the Irishman was a fellow-captive with her. He was bold to recklessness, quick-witted, and faithful, and more from the natural kindness of his disposition, than a desire to return the interest shown in his own welfare, would he do all in his power, to befriend the helpless captive.

There were two schemes that Smith and the hunter thought long and earnestly upon. The first was to leave the flat-boat as soon as the darkness would permit, and accompanied by all the remaining fugitives make all haste to the settlement, and rally a large party of the frontiermen, who would be able to overcome the entire force of the Indians.

The main objection to the proceeding was, that it required too much time for its execution. Ere the party could be raised the savages would have penetrated so far into the labyrinths of the wilderness as to make pursuit hopeless. If they chose they would have abundant time to reach one of their towns, where it would require an army to dislodge them.

The other plan and the one which the ardent adventurer most favored, was, to attempt to regain her by stratagem—to cross over to the mainland, and to hang constantly in the vicinity of the savages, keeping a watch upon their movements, and trusting to his own quick perception and promptness of action, when the all-important occasion arrived.

The more he reflected, the more he was pleased with this project, and he finally imparted it a final resolution to his friend.

“It’s running a great risk,” replied the latter, scratching his head; “but I don’t see any other way of getting the gal; I’m with you in whatever you want to do. You’re considerable green I allow, but you’ve larned a powerful lot in the last day or two, and I think could manage it. But jist now I’m right hungry.”

“We will find means to obtain that when we once get into the woods. For the present we must bear our hunger patiently, and thank God we’re not dependent upon the Indians for food.”

“I should like to inquire what time you think it is?”

“It must be considerably advanced in the afternoon,” replied Smith, looking up at the sky. “The weather still remains clear, and there is no evidence of an approaching storm. I am glad that there will be no moon to-night. What we want is darkness—darkness.”

The afternoon gradually wore away, the sun went down, and evening once more settled upon wood and river. The same silence as profound as the tomb, held reign, and cautiously and silently the two whites let themselves down from the flat-boat, and made their preparations to leave the island, which had been the scene of such woe and suffering to their little party.