CHAPTER XVI

The Search for Dick

Ben Foster kept struggling on through the woods and darkness for quite a while, and then, not hearing any sounds of pursuit, he paused and listened intently for a few moments, after which he gave a low, but penetrating whistle, the same signal that the three youths often used. If Dick were within two or three hundred yards, he would hear and reply to the signal.

There came no reply, however, and after waiting a few minutes, Ben whistled again, with the same result.

Then he set out through the forest, but did not go far, before stopping again.

“I’m not going any farther till I know where Dick is,” he murmured, “He may have gotten into trouble, may have fallen and knocked his head against a tree and fallen into the hands of the redskins again. I’ll stay here till morning, and then see if I can find him.”

Ben found a place at the foot of a big tree, and lying down, was soon asleep. He slept till morning, and then sat up and looked around him.

All was quiet, and there were neither redskins nor redcoats in sight.

Ben drew a sigh of relief. He had feared that he might see enemies in the vicinity.

But, what should he do? In which direction should he go? He did not know where to look for Dick, and so he decided to start back in the direction from which he had come in escaping from the Indian village. It would be somewhat dangerous to venture back to the vicinity of the village, but Ben was determined to find Dick, if possible. He feared his comrade had been recaptured by the redskins, and if this were the case, it should be his business to rescue him.

Ben had taken only a few steps, however, when he caught sight of a party of patriots coming toward him, as he could tell by their blue uniforms.

“There comes one of the parties sent out by General Greene!” thought Ben, with a feeling of delight. “Now I can guide them to the Indian village, and they can put the redskins to rout and rescue Dick, if he is there.”

He hastened to meet the soldiers, and when he met them, he found that one was his own company, under the command of Captain Morgan. The captain was naturally somewhat surprised to see Ben, but was glad, and asked if he could give him any news regarding the whereabouts of Indians.

“Indeed I can,” was the reply. “Dick and myself were captured by a party of redskins, and they were about to burn us at the stake, but somebody slipped up and cut the ropes binding us to the trees, and we managed to get away. But we got separated in the darkness, and I don’t know where Dick is.”

“When was that?”

“Last night.”

“How far is the Indian village from here?” the captain asked.

“About ten or twelve miles, I should judge, sir.”

“You can guide us thither?”

“I am sure that I can, sir.”

“Very good, lead the way, and we will get to the village as quickly as circumstances will permit. If Dick Dare was recaptured and taken back to the village, he may be in danger, and we will endeavor to rescue him.”

“True, sir.”

They set out at once, with Ben in the lead, as guide. Captain Morgan was right behind Ben, and then after them came the soldiers, Tim Murphy and Fritz Schmockenburg being close to the captain and Ben. These two liked Dick immensely, and were worried for fear something serious had happened to him.

After a walk of about three and a half or four hours, Ben called a halt and said that the Indian village was within half a mile of the spot where they were standing.

“We had better advance slowly and cautiously,” he advised, and the captain so ordered.

Presently they came in sight of the village, and at the same moment they were discovered and a wild yell went up from the lips of an Indian brave that had been standing guard. This was the alarm signal to his fellow braves in the village, and instantly there was a great skurrying around among the redskins, as they hastened this way and that, trying to get together for the purpose of offering battle to the soldiers.

When they saw how large a number they had to contend with, however, they quickly decided that prudence was the better part of valor, and took to their heels, and after them went the patriot soldiers, firing as they ran, and dropping quite a number of the savages, dead or wounded.

The soldiers pursued the Indians as long as they could see any of them, and then they returned to the village, and began looking in the various wigwams, to see if Dick Dare was there, a prisoner.

They did not find him in any of the wigwams, and when Captain Morgan made inquiries of an old Indian, who had remained behind with the squaws and papooses, and who could speak a few words of English, he was informed that neither of the white young men who had been at the torture stake the night before, and had escaped, had been recaptured. Captain Morgan was somewhat relieved to hear this. But he was still anxious regarding the fate of Dick. He felt that the youth had gotten into danger of some kind.

The soldiers buried the Indians that had been killed, carried the wounded ones into the wigwams, and left them there for the squaws to doctor up. Then the soldiers again set out, with the intention of trying to locate Dick Dare, and rescue him, if he had fallen into the hands of another party of Indians.

They made their way slowly through the woods, and spread out, fan-shape, so as to cover as large a territory as practical. If Dick were anywhere in that part of the country, they would find him, they were certain.

But although they put in the rest of the day, practically searching for Dick, they did not find him, nor did they encounter any Indians. It is likely that the redskins had heard about the attack on the village, and kept out of the way.

Ben was greatly worried about their failure to find Dick or learn anything regarding his whereabouts. He was worried, too, about the whereabouts of Tom. He and Dick had started out to look for Tom, and had themselves been made prisoners, had very nearly been burned at the stake, had become separated in their flight from the redskins, and now Dick’s whereabouts was not known. Thus both the Dare boys were missing, and their friends feared that both were in serious trouble, somewhere, though where, was the difficulty.

“Perhaps we may find Dick to-morrow,” said Ben.

“Sure an’ Oi hope thot we may foind ’im, Ben,” replied Tim Murphy. “It’s a foine bye Dick is.”

“Yah, Dick and Tom are both fine poys, alretty,” said Fritz Schmockenburg. “Und I hope dot ve find dem to-morrow.”

“Oi wish we could foind thim as aisy as ye can foind woildcats whin standin’ guard, Fritz,” chuckled Tim, and then he told Ben the story of how Fritz had heard a noise, thought the Indians were coming to attack the camp, and had fired a shot and rushed into the encampment, yelling that the Indians were coming, and that when they had gone and looked at the point where Fritz had fired the shot, they had found a dead wildcat.

Ben laughed, and then said: “Well, if it had been an Indian, you would have settled his account, Fritz.”

“Yah, dot is so,” nodded Fritz, grinning.

Next morning the patriot soldiers again began searching for Dick, at the same time keeping their eyes open for Indians, but did not find either, and after eating their luncheon at noon, they set out toward the patriot encampment in Peaceful Valley, as they were expected to report there that evening.

It was almost dark when they arrived at the encampment, and the other two companies were already there. They had found two or three Indian villages, had killed and wounded a number of Indians and put the rest to flight, as Captain Morgan’s force had done. They had not seen anything of Dick or Tom Dare.

General Greene was somewhat worried over the fact that Dick and Tom were missing, for he liked the youths, and feared that they had met with death at the hands of the redskins.

“We will break camp here in the morning, however,” he told his officers, “and will march upon Fort Ninety-Six. Possibly we may find the Dare Boys somewhere in that neighborhood. Dick may have continued onward in that direction to look for his brother Tom.”

“True,” agreed Captain Morgan. “I hope we may find them alive and well.”