Chapter XXI. The Defense of the Five

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　Henry Ware was first on land, Shif'less Sol came just behind him,and then the other three. The boat from which they had leaped,and which now contained but two oarsmen, swung back a little intothe stream, and in a moment the darkness, closing down, shut itfrom view. They stood in a patch of undergrowth and the battlestill flamed around them on the bayou, on the river, and in thewoods. It was now fiercest in the forest, which crackled withthe rifle shots and the sound of singing bullets. Innumerablejets of flame sparkled here and there, and then went out, to besucceeded instantly by others.

　　Many of the Indian canoes had been sunk by the explosion or thesweep of the supply fleet, but it was easy for their occupants,if not seriously wounded, to escape to the land, and they greatlyincreased the savage swarm in the woods, chiefly on the northbank of the bayou. Henry and his friends could hear theirwarning cries to one another, even their tread, and they realizedthat their own skirmishers in the woods would be pressed hard.Only a determined effort could hold back the horde long enoughfor the men to reach the fleet.

　　While they stood there, seeking the best thing to do, twoskirmishers dashed up, breathless, both slightly wounded, andexclaiming that they were pursued by a formidable force.

　　"Jump into the water!" cried Henry. "The boats are only a fewyards away! We'll hold back the savages!"

　　There were two plunks, as the skirmishers sprang into theMississippi, sinking a moment from sight, and then, as theyreappeared, swimming swiftly for the boats. Behind them cametheir pursuers in a swarm, but they were driven back by the riflefire of the little party from Kentucky. Another skirmisher burstthrough the bushes, and, helped in the same way, sprang into theMississippi, swimming for the boats. Then came a fourth and afifth and everyone escaped as the others had done.

　　"It's well we came," said Henry. This is not the least of ourtask. Lie down, boys."

　　They stretched themselves on the damp earth, the great, yellowriver close behind them, and the forest in front swarming withthe savage force. They had expected other men who had landed tocome to their aid, but the parties had become separated in thedarkness and confusion of the battle, and they were left alone.Nevertheless a dauntless heart beat in every breast, and theyexpected to hold that neck of land, which seemed to be a channelfor the pursued, until the last fugitive was safe.

　　Lying upon their faces, half supported by their elbows, theycould load and fire whenever they saw a hostile figure in frontof them. Again and again the pursuit of a skirmisher was drivenback by these deadly riflemen. Now and then a cannon shot firedfrom their own fleet whistled over their heads and struck in theforest among their foes, but they paid no attention to it. Theywere intent upon their own work and every faculty wasconcentrated for the task.

　　They had the bayou on one side and a little bay of the river onthe other, and they could not be surrounded by land. The foe wasalways straight before them, in a way, eye to eye, and there theysent bullets that rarely missed.

　　A fever was in their blood, the long battle, its tremendousevents, and the new phase that it had now assumed, set everynerve to going. Certain faculties useless for that crisis hadbecome atrophied for the time. They no longer heard the soundsof the cannon shots over their heads or the shouts of the men onthe boats, they saw and heard nothing but their own battle andwhat lay directly in front of them.

　　The position was growing more dangerous. Their searching firehad drawn upon them an enemy always increasing in numbers. Thesavages converged front of them in a semicircle, and their firewas heavier and heavier. Bullets whistled over them struck theearth about them, or clipped their clothing.

　　Another fugitive passed them and escaped, and then yet another.It was evident that their task was not yet done, and they wouldnot leave, although the fire poured upon them, still increased inheat and the bullets came in showers.

　　Presently the attack seemed to veer away from them somewhat, asif the attention of the enemy were turned elsewhere, and Paul,who was at the end of the line, crept forward a little in thethicket. The fever was still burning in his veins and he wasanxious to see what lay in front of him. He did not hear thewarning cries of his comrades, or, if hearing, he did not heedthem. He was still burning with the desire to see what lay therein the depths of the forest. Paul, the scholar, the thinker, thefuture statesman, had become transformed. In such a surchargedatmosphere he, too, had turned into the primitive man, thefighter, the man who looks upon every other man not proven afriend, as his natural enemy. The bullets had ceased for thetime being to whistle above his head and to strike up the earthabout him. He became conscious once more of the cannon shots,shrieking over him, and the crash of the rifle fire came fromright and left.

　　A stick broke under Paul and he heard a shout in front of him.The shout was so fierce, so fully charged with malice, that hesprang to his feet as if he had been propelled by an electricshock. He stood face to face with Don Francisco Alvarez, theplotter, the rebel, and leader of the attacking army, a wild andterrible figure, clothes torn, bleeding from wounds, but animatednow by a savage joy. His pistol was leveled at the surprisedyouth, and the next moment the deadly bullet would have beensped, but a tall black-robed figure rose up from the bushes andthrew Alvarez back.

　　"Francisco Alvarez, thou hast done crime enough already!"exclaimed the priest.

　　Alvarez regained his balance, cast one look of hate at the manwho had intervened, and cried:

　　"Ha! it is you, priest, who have come in my way once more! Thengo the way of martyrdom!"

　　Turning his pistol he fired the bullet full into the black-robedchest, and Father Montigny fell dying.

　　Paul stood still, unable to move. Every muscle in him wasparalyzed by this deed which seemed to him not murder alone, butsacrilege. Of all the events of that terrible night this was theworst. But a man behind Paul, retained every faculty, alive andalert. Up rose Shif'less Sol, his honest face ablaze with wrath.His rifle flew to his shoulder, his finger pressed the trigger,and the soul of Don Francisco Alvarez, grandee of Spain, sped tojudgment from the darkness and obscurity of the North Americanwilderness.

　　"Come back, Paul! Come back!" cried Shif'less Sol, seizing theyouth by the shoulder.

　　"But Father Montigny is dying!" cried Paul, falling upon hisknees beside the priest. The tears ran down his cheeks and fellupon the pale face of the dying man.

　　Paul and Father Montigny, Protestant and Catholic, young man andold, were kindred spirits, and each had felt it from the first.In the soul of each was the same mysticism, the same imaginativequality, the same spiritual eye always looking into the future.It had occurred more than once to the priest that, if he hadremained outside the cloth, and had lived as other men lived, hewould have wished such a son as Paul.

　　Now he smiled and opened his eyes as he saw this beloved youth ofhis later days weeping over him, as he lay in the forest with hisdeath wound. The one face that he wished most to see beside him,as he drew his last breath, was there.

　　"Paul!" he said, "Paul, my son! Do not weep. It is the fate - inone form or another - of all who travel in these woods - on suchmissions as mine. I have long expected it - and I have oftenwondered that it has been delayed so long. I escape, too, thetorture - that more than one of my brethren has suffered."

　　He reached out one hand, and put it lightly upon Paul's barehead. There it lay and Paul felt it grow cold upon him.

　　"Come away, Paul," said the shiftless one gently.

　　"The good priest is dead. It's the livin' that need our help."

　　Bullets began to whistle from the thickets. The battle convergedtoward them again, and Paul knew that he was needed to help theothers hold the little neck of land so important to all. Acannon shot shrieked over his head, and then another. Once morethey were the focus of the combat. The forest in front of themsparkled as rapidly as before with beads of flame.

　　Paul rose reluctantly and turned away. The priest lay on hisback, his face, pale and perfectly peaceful, upturned to theskies. Alvarez was a dozen yards away, but his figure, stillforever, was motionless in the shadows. Paul did not bestow aglance upon him, but he gave Father Montigny a last long look ofaffection and sorrow as he turned away.

　　"Down, Paul, down!" cried Henry, when Paul and Shif'less Solreached the others. "We saw what happened! You cannot doanything for him now!"

　　He dragged Paul down, and in an instant all of them turned theirfull energy to the defense. The attack upon them was renewedwith uncommon fire and fury. The Indians and desperadoes wishedto pass that particular neck of land in order that they mightpour a storm of bullets upon the crippled fleet and theskirmishers who were yet coming in; but the little band, headedby Henry Ware, still held them back.

　　Henry looked once or twice toward the river and saw the boatshovering far out in the stream. He judged that, in the darknessand confusion, Adam Colfax no longer knew where the Kentuckianswere and it was even possible that he might lose them entirely;but the fact did not shake Henry's resolve. It was vital thatthey should hold the neck, and he intended to do it. He and hiscomrades, lying close together, replied rapidly and with deadlyaim to the fire in front of them, forming a compact little body,with blazing rifles, which the savage army was not yet able todisplace.

　　The night darkened, there were signs of rain, induced perhaps, byso much firing; the moon was completely hidden by gatheringclouds; the river became a black, flowing mass and the boats uponit blurred with its surface, save when they leaped into the lightin the blaze of a cannon shot. The woods, too, seemed a solid,black wall, along the front of which rifle shots sparkled inclusters.

　　"Good boys! good boys!" exclaimed Henry in low tones, surchargedwith excitement. He, too, had the mounting blood hot in hisbrain. All the old primeval passion was flaming in him. But thefire of the enemy converged nearer and nearer, and the bulletssang a ceaseless little song in his ears as they passed. "Ah!"he exclaimed as one struck him in the arm. But that was all hesaid. He went on with his loading and firing.

　　"Are you hit, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol.

　　"A scratch! Nothing more! Look how Long Jim fights!"

　　Long Jim was almost flat upon his face, but the man, usually somild and good tempered, was now wholly possessed by the rage ofcombat. His long thin figure fitted around the sinuosities ofthe earth, and he seemed to have a curious gliding motion,sliding forward slowly to meet the enemy. The darkness wasnothing now to his accustomed eyes, and he sent his bullets withsure aim toward the shadowy forms in the bushes in front of them.Long Jim forgot everything now but his rifle and the enemy therein the thicket. He slid further and further, still drawinghimself over the ground in that terrible semblance of a serpent.Paul, seeing his face, was frightened. "Jim! Jim! " he cried."Stop!" But Long Jim slid slowly on. Tom Ross said something,but it was lost in the whistling of a cannon shot overhead.

　　They saw Long Jim stop the next moment, and Paul believed that heheard him utter a little sigh. Long Jim's limbs contracted andstraightened out again with a jerk. Then he turned slowly overon his side and lay still, a moment or two, after which he beganto writhe violently. At the same time he clapped his hand to hishead and it came back red.

　　"Sol sometimes says I've a thick skull, an' 'ef so it's a goodthing," he muttered to himself.

　　He shook his head again and again, as if to clear it, and creptback to his friends. There he tore off a portion of his deerskinhunting shirt, tied it tightly around the wound, and went on withhis firing.

　　"Don't be too enthusiastic, Jim," said Henry.

　　"I won't," replied Long Jim, "I'm cured."

　　Lower crouched the five, taking advantage of the bushes andlittle hillocks, and sending a bullet every time they saw aflitting figure in the forest in front of them. Behind them theycould still hear the roar of the combat on the river. Thecrackle of the rifles and the muskets was steady in their ears,while now and then the note of a cannon boomed above it, and asolid shot, curving over their heads, whizzed into the thickets.But they paid little attention to the main battle; it was merelya chorus, a background, as it were, for their own corner of thestruggle, which absorbed all their energies.

　　Their fire was so incessant, it was so well aimed, and it stungthe allied army so severely, that an increasing force wassteadily concentrating in front of them. Nor did they escapewholly unhurt. A bullet grazed Henry's arm and another did thesame for Shif'less Sol's shoulder; but neither paid any attentionto his wounds, loading and reloading, facing the enemy withundiminished zeal and courage.

　　Its whole aspect was now a phantom battle to them all. Theincessant crash and roaring in their ears, and the smoke andvapor in their nostrils, heated their brains and made everythinglook unreal. They were but phantoms themselves, and the foes wholeaped about in the forest were phantoms, too. Darker and darkerthe clouds rolled up and the smoke and vapors thickened in theforest, but through the blackness the lines of flame stillreplied to each other.

　　Paul's excitement was so great that he could not keep himselfdown. He was burning with fever, but passion seemed to bedeparting from him. He thought that, if they were all to die, itwas a privilege to die together. He saw now the deep cool wood,a beautiful lake, and an island enclosed within it, like a greengem in a blue setting. Paul's thoughts, and his vision withthem, were wandering into the past.

　　"Steady, Paul, steady!" said Henry. But Paul saw nothing now. Abullet, singing merrily, gave him a leaden kiss, and he sank downvery gently, lying upon one arm, the red fast dyeing his buckskinhunting shirt.

　　Henry gave a cry when he saw Paul fall, and bent anxiously overhis friend. The light was faint, but the bullet seemed to havegone entirely through the youth. Henry put his ear to his chest,and could hear his heart still beating, though faintly.

　　"Hold 'em back!" he shouted to his friends, "and I'll help Paul!"Shif'less Sol, Tom, and Long Jim, although overwhelmed withanxiety for their young comrade, steadily turned their facestoward the foe, and replied to his fire. Henry, while thebullets whistled above his head, bent down and cut away Paul'shunting shirt. Yes, the bullet had gone entirely through hisbody and it was lucky for Paul that it had done so. No need nowof the surgeon's probe. Henry bound up the wound tightly andstopped the bleeding. Then he undertook to lift the lad; butPaul, although still unconscious and a dead weight in his arms,groaned with pain. Henry laid him gently back on the ground.

　　"Boys," he said, "Paul is too weak to be moved, and we've got tohold this place until help comes or the enemy quits."

　　"I think the last skirmisher has escaped now," said Shif'lessSol, "but here we stay."

　　He spoke for them all, and Henry, unable to do anything more forPaul, turned his attention anew to the enemy. There was a suddenincrease of the firing in front. The clouds and vapors rolledback, and the dancing figures in the thickets took on moresemblance of reality. Suddenly Henry uttered a cry. His eyes ofalmost preternatural keenness had recognized one of the figures.

　　"What is it, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol.

　　"Braxton Wyatt. He's in the thicket. I saw him a moment ago. Iknow his face and figure too well to be mistaken."

　　"I saw him, too," replied the shiftless one. "0' course he'sescaped the bullets so fur. It's jest his luck."

　　"I think he knows we're here," said Henry, "and he's leading theattack on us. But we'll never yield this ground and Paul to sucha fellow."

　　"No!" said the others with one voice.

　　The clouds and vapors closed in again. The darkness rolled upin wave after wave, and the renegade, leading on outlaw and redman, pressed the attack; but the four met them with courage andspirit unshaken.

　　The clouds and vapors rolled over attack and defense, but throughthe darkness fire answered fire. After a while the forest andthe bayou, which had witnessed such a desperate display of humanenergy, sank into darkness and silence. The clouds, now in thezenith, began to give forth rain, but it was a gentle, beneficentrain, and it fell silently on the faces of the living and thedead alike.