Part 25 (2/2)

Hope and Have Oliver Optic 31220K 2022-07-22

”So they are.”

”Mebbe they're comin' round to try us on t'other side of the house. Ef they be, I'm thar. You hold on to the little Injin, and I'll watch 'em.”

Ethan went to a window on the front of the house, and soon returned with the gratifying intelligence that the redskins were actually moving off in the direction of the burning buildings to the west of them.

”How thankful we ought to be that we have been saved!” said f.a.n.n.y. ”Let us thank G.o.d with all our hearts, Ethan.”

”We can't stop to do no more prayin' now, f.a.n.n.y. Besides, we ain't out o' the woods yet.”

”We need not stop to pray,” replied f.a.n.n.y, devoutly. ”If the prayer is in our hearts, G.o.d will understand it.”

”I'm thankful, I'm sure, as a body kin be. Now, you git together everything you kin find to eat, and I'll git a wheelbarrer to fetch 'em down to the lake. Ef we kin only git on the island, I don't keer for all the redskins this side o' sundown.”

Wahena was tied up in such a way that he could not escape, and f.a.n.n.y hurriedly collected everything in the shape of provisions which had escaped the depredations of the Indians. Ethan brought from the chambers an armful of blankets and bed-quilts, and the wheelbarrow was loaded with all it would contain. A bushel of potatoes, a leg of bacon, a bucket of corn-meal, a small supply of groceries, and a few cooking utensils, const.i.tuted the stock upon which they were mainly to depend for sustenance during their banishment from civilized life for they knew not how long a time. But both of the exiles were hopeful, though very sad, when they thought of the death and desolation they were leaving behind them.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE YOUNG EXILES.

Wahena, with his hands still tied behind him, was led by f.a.n.n.y, while Ethan trundled the wheelbarrow, across the handles of which lay the two guns, ready for use if occasion should require. The Indians had halted on one of the little eminences of the prairie, and appeared to be watching the departure of the fugitives from their once happy home.

Lean Bear was evidently very fond of his little son, who was a boy of bright promise, measured by the Indian standard. He had exhibited no concern for the mother while she lay senseless upon the ground, but he seemed to be willing to make any sacrifice, even to the curbing of his ferocious nature, for Wahena's sake.

The party of Indians on the knoll appeared to be impressed with the misfortune of their leader in the loss of his favorite son. Though the work of rapine and death was still going on in the settlement, they did not heed it. The messenger had probably represented to Lean Bear that Wahena would certainly be killed if he attempted to molest the little party, and the chief had withdrawn far enough to remove all temptation on the part of Ethan to execute his threat.

The wheelbarrow was heavily loaded, and it was hard work for the prairie boy to move it along over the soft soil. On a hill, just before the descent to the lake commenced, he paused to rest for a moment. He was in excellent spirits, and was proud of the success which had thus far attended his stratagem. He was confident that he should reach the island in safety, where, having the only boat on the lake in his possession, he was satisfied that he should be able to defend himself and his companion, especially with Wahena as a guaranty for the good behavior of the Indians.

Ethan was entirely satisfied with himself, and he was about to resume the march towards the lake, when his attention was attracted by a noise in the direction opposite to that in which Lean Bear and his party had retreated.

”Creation hokee!” shouted Ethan.

”What's the matter?” asked f.a.n.n.y.

”Don't you see the Injins comin' out of the woods?” replied he, as he grasped the rifle, and raised it to his shoulder.

”Ho, ho, ho! He, he, he!” yelled the band of savages, as they rushed out of the covert of the trees, and ran towards the spot where Ethan stood.

”We are lost!” gasped f.a.n.n.y, almost overcome by this new peril.

”No, we ain't lost, f.a.n.n.y. You keep a stiff upper lip. Lay right down on the ground, behind the wheelbarrer, and don't let the varmints see you. If they kim hyer, use that ere pistil.”

One of the new enemies was considerably in advance of the others, as if anxious to drink the first blood of the victims before him. Suddenly he came to a halt, raised his rifle, and fired.

”Creation hokee!” exclaimed Ethan, as the ball whistled frightfully near his head.

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