Ellis Edward Sylvester - Ned in the Block-House: A Tale of Early Days in the West стр 14.

"We are a hundred yards from the block-house," said Ned Preston; "it is a long shot for the bow and arrow."

"Would my brother like to use his gun?" asked Deerfoot with his shadowy smile, his question being intended to remind his friend of the superiority of the primitive weapon over the rifle, at least in such an emergency as the present.

"The gun is of no use just now," said Preston, "and I mistrust that your bow will not serve you as well as you think."

"You shall see," was the comment of the owner, who gave his full attention to the task before him. He used a shred of deer-sinew and fastened the letter directly behind the iron barb. That done, the faithful bow was carefully strung, and then the youth bent himself to the work.

His intention was to send the arrow, if possible, through the narrow window to the left of the front door of the block-house. This had no glass, nor screen, but as it was no more than eight inches wide, although three times as high, and as the shaft was weighted with a foreign substance, likely to affect its accuracy of flight, some idea of the difficulty of the feat may be gained.

Furthermore, it was necessary that the shot should be fired secretly. Deerfoot had no opportunity of standing out on the open ground, where his limbs would be unimpeded, but he must aim from behind the bank, so that no vigilant Wyandot would detect him.

He set to work, standing below the bank and pointing between an intervening bush or two, making sure, however, that an unobstructed path was open for his arrow. The missile was pointed at an elevation of fully forty-five degrees; and, with one eye closed, he slowly drew back the string until the head touched the right hand, which grasped the middle of the bow.

It was held thus ten seconds, during which the athlete was as rigid and motionless as if moulded in iron, while his eye rested on the narrow slit-like window cut in the solid logs, all of a hundred yards away.

Ned Preston kept his gaze fixed on the Indian, who at that moment formed a picture worthy of the finest artist that ever touched brush to canvas.

Suddenly there was a faint twang, the bow straightened out like lightning, and the arrowy messenger started on its path weighted with the all-important message.

Preston instantly glanced at the block-house, centering his eye on the straight opening, but with scarcely a hope that Deerfoot could succeed in what would certainly be a marvelous exploit.

As the arrow was speeding directly away from the lads, it was impossible to distinguish its course through the air, though it could have been seen easily, had they been stationed at right angles to its line of flight.

The Shawanoe, having discharged the weapon, immediately lowered it, and then peered forward to learn the result of his shot.

But

evidently meant that, if any mistake was made, it should not be his fault.

Ned Preston now carefully awakened Blossom Brown and explained what had been done and what was contemplated.

"You have got to run as you never ran before," said his master, "and when you have once started, there is no turning back."

"What would I want to turn back for?" was the wondering question of the African.

"You might think it better to stay where we are, and it may be that it is; but after the Wyandots learn we are here, it is run or die with us."

"My brother speaks the truth," said Deerfoot, who was looking across the clearing at the nearest cabin: "there are red men there, and they will try and hinder you from reaching your friends."

There was no reason to hope the prospect would improve by waiting, and it was decided to start at once. Deerfoot, it was understood, was to remain where he was and to make no attempt for the present to enter the block-house. It was expected that, after Blossom and Ned were safely within the building, the guide would hasten to Wild Oaks and bring assistance to the beleaguered garrison.

When the boys were ready, the Shawanoe impressed one fact upon them: they were not to cease running for an instant, unless stopped beyond all power to overcome, but, fixing their eyes on the door of the block-house, strain every nerve to reach the goal.

Each lad was to carry his loaded gun in his right hand, but not to use it, unless forced to do so: if Colonel Preston should delay admitting them, they would be lost; but there was no cause to fear such a miscarriage.

The boys stealthily moved forward and up the bank, and, pausing near the margin, awaited the word from the Shawanoe. The perilous point, in the eye of the latter, was the cabin where he knew the Wyandots to be, and he watched it closely for several minutes. Nothing was to be seen of them just then, and he said in a low voice

"Go!"

On the instant, Ned Preston and Blossom Brown bounded across the clearing in the direction of the block-house: it was a straight run of a hundred yards over a level piece of land, on which only a few stumps remained to show that it was once covered by the forest.