Part 12 (2/2)

”On! on!” shouted Tec.u.mah, though his voice no longer rang with its usual clear tone.

Constance observed with grief that he was faint and hoa.r.s.e. His band, obeying him, turned round and shot their arrows as they advanced.

Scarcely, however, had they moved forward, when the Portuguese, seeing the handful of men opposed to them, fiercely charged their ranks, Tec.u.mah and only a few of the warriors surrounding him, having got some way in advance, escaping the onslaught; the rest, who had the count in charge, were compelled to halt, in a vain endeavour to withstand their overwhelming foes. The darkness enabled Tec.u.mah, and the few who remained by him, to push on without being observed.

”On! on!” again cried Tec.u.mah. ”The rest will follow when they have driven back our enemies.”

”Oh, my father! my father! Where is he?” exclaimed Constance.

Tec.u.mah did not answer her.

Making their way towards the sh.o.r.e, they reached it at length.

”Where are the canoes?” exclaimed Tec.u.mah, looking along the beach where they had been left hauled up.

His companions dispersed on either side to look for them. Their cries told what had happened. Some had been sent adrift, and others had been battered in, and utterly destroyed by a band of Tuparas, as the Tamoyos truly surmised.

”We must make our way to the spot where they have left their canoes,”

exclaimed Tec.u.mah; and he again attempted to lift up Constance, who had earnestly entreated to be placed on the ground.

The din of battle still sounded as loud as ever, and the rattle of musketry was heard close at hand. It was evident that the combatants were approaching the sh.o.r.e.

”On! on!” again cried Tec.u.mah; and, lifting up Constance, he was staggering forward, when, faint from loss of blood, he sank on the ground.

At that moment an Indian rushed out of the wood behind them. ”Fly! fly!

our enemies are at hand. All, all have been cut to pieces. I alone have escaped.”

His arm, as he spoke, dropped by his side, while the blood flowed rapidly from his head, giving evidence of the truth of his a.s.sertion.

Constance was kneeling down, trying to staunch the blood flowing from Tec.u.mah's wound. He raised himself on one arm.

”Think not of me,” he said, ”but endeavour, with my faithful friends, who will accompany you, to find concealment among the rocks.”

”We cannot leave you,” answered Constance; ”better to yield ourselves prisoners, than to allow you to perish alone.”

”You know not the nature of our enemies,” said Tec.u.mah, faintly; ”they spare no one. Fly, fly, while there is time.”

The sounds of fighting were drawing rapidly nearer. All prospect of escape seemed cut off. Constance gazed up for a moment from the task at which she was engaged. Bullets were striking the branches of the trees a short distance from them. Her heart sank with grief. She felt the probability that her father had been cut off with the rest of the brave Tamoyos. Just then one of the Indians exclaimed, ”See, see! a canoe approaches.” Constance cast a glance across the waters, and caught a glimpse of a canoe emerging from the darkness. It rapidly approached the beach. The shouts of the Indians showed that friends were on board.

Their hails were answered. In another moment Nigel leapt on sh.o.r.e.

Tec.u.mah recognised him.

”Save her first--care not for me,” he exclaimed.

Nigel was not likely to disobey such a command, and, taking Constance in his arms, he bore her to the canoe.

”Oh, save our brave friend,” she cried, as she pressed her lips to her husband's, who immediately sprang back to the beach, and, listening not to Tec.u.mah's request to be allowed to die where he lay, he carried him, with the a.s.sistance of the Indians who still had strength to exert themselves, to the canoe.

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