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"If you think it best, you may try it after dark."
"I'll do it," said the settler, with a compression of the lips which showed his earnestness. He had perilled his life many a time during the years spent on the frontier, and he was not the man to hesitate, when duty called him.
It was now the middle of the afternoon of the blustery autumn day which saw the approach of Ned Preston, Blossom Brown and the Shawanoe, Deerfoot, to the vicinity of the block-house. The garrison were sure to use the utmost vigilance until the all-important question was settled, and it was not probable the besieging Wyandots would make any serious attack before the night was well advanced.
When Megill, a tall, sinewy, iron-limbed pioneer, learned the intention of Stinger to make the attempt to reach Wild Oaks with a view of bringing help, he commended the plan and said he would gladly take his place. But Stinger would not consent, and it was understood that the dangerous task was to be undertaken by him who proposed it.
As the chilly night settled over river, forest and clearing, every one in the block-house was impressed with the solemnity of the situation. Even little Mary and Susie talked in hushed voices of the wicked Indians on the outside, and wondered why they wished to harm those who had never harmed them. When they knelt at their mother's knee, their prayers were touching in their earnestness and simple faith, and brought tears to the eyes of their parents.
"God will take care of us," said Mary to the elder, with the trusting belief of childhood; "so don't feel bad, papa and mamma."
The mother had made them a bed in the corner, beyond the reach of any stray bullets that might find their way through the loopholes; and, as she tucked the blankets around them and kissed them good-night, she added her own petition to heaven that it would guard and shield them from all harm.
Stinger, Megill and Turner were at the loopholes; and, while the twilight was deepening within the gloomy block-house, Colonel Preston lingered a few minutes beside his wife, who was seated on a rude stool waiting for the little ones to close their eyes in slumber.
"Why should we feel alarmed, Maria," he asked, "when, as I told you a short time ago, we have plenty of ammunition and the means to defend ourselves? There are five rifles, one for each of us, including yourself; these walls are too strong to be battered down, and we can make our aim too sure for the Wyandots to expose themselves long to it."
"That is all true, Hugh, and I hope that nothing I have said will cause misgiving on your part; but, at the best, there are only a very, very few of us, and you know accidents may happen: suppose," she added in a tremulous voice, "one or two of you should fall "
"Colonel, begging pardon," interrupted Jo Stinger, at this moment advancing toward them, "you obsarve it's so dark inside that we couldn't see each other's faces if it wasn't for that taller candle burning on the stand, and I don't know of a better time to start for Wild Oaks."
"Is it fully dark on the outside?" asked the Colonel, glad of excuse to end the gloomy conversation.
"As dark as a wolf's mouth so dark that I'm hopeful of getting through the lines, without any bother; you know that every hour counts, and I shall have to put in some big licks to reach Wild Oaks and bring the boys here by to-morrow night."
There could be no disputing this fact, and Colonel Preston peeped through the loopholes, first on one side of the block-house and then on the other, until he had looked toward each point of the compass.
It may be said that nothing but blank darkness met his eye. He could hear the sound of the flowing river, the solemn sighing of the night-wind among the trees, but nowhere could he catch the glimmer of the Indian camp-fire, nor hear the red man's war-whoop which had fallen on his ear more than once since he made his home on the Dark and Bloody Ground.
This impressive stillness told as eloquently of the presence of the red man as the sounds of conflict could have done.
"There is no
was a fringe of bushes and undergrowth, which offered a tempting hiding-place to a foe.
It was natural to expect the Wyandots to make use of this place, and they had done so, but they already commanded the situation.
Deerfoot had one important advantage in the fact that the Wyandots held no suspicion of the presence of any friends of the whites in the vicinity of the block-house, and consequently they were not searching for such allies.
But it was easy to lose this ground, and he convinced his companions that if it should be found impossible to join Colonel Preston, it would be equally fatal to attempt to leave the neighborhood before night: detection was inevitable.
Such was the state of affairs when the sun rose on the morning succeeding Jo Stinger's failure to pass through the lines (which effort was made a number of hours before Deerfoot and his friends reached the spot). The sky had cleared, and there was scarcely a cloud to obscure its light.