Part 16 (1/2)

Odd, flickering figures danced before him, and sometimes rock, wood, and sky were so jumbled together, that he had to glance in another direction, until he could recover his visual strength.

The wily Seneca, having failed to draw his shot, was now likely to attempt some other stratagem.

Furthermore, the ma.s.sacre of Wyoming was still going on, and this formidable body had not the patience to shut themselves out from their share in it.

In one sense it was tying themselves up to remain for hours, besieging a little company of fugitives, and, therefore, they were likely to display less indifference to the pa.s.sage of time than is the rule with their race.

Such was the conclusion of Mr. Brainerd, and we may as well say he was correct.

All at once the figure of an Indian warrior was seen against the sky, and the next instant he made a leap like a panther, his fine athletic form with his legs and arms gathered being seen for an instant apparently poised in mid-air, as he made his swift bound for the point behind the column of rocks, which, once secured, placed the life of every one of the patriots at his mercy.

But, while the lithe Seneca hung thus, for one moment, between heaven and earth, he emitted a screech, his limbs were thrown out convulsively, and, striking the point at which he aimed, he rebounded like a ball, and went tumbling to the bottom.

Mr. Brainerd had fired at the very crisis, and his aim was unerring.

”Let me have your gun,” said he, reaching for the weapon in the hand of McEwen, while he kept watch of the point where the Seneca had appeared and disappeared with such suddenness.

The New Englander pa.s.sed the rifle to the settler, saying:

”It won't fail you.”

”Please reload mine.”

Habakkuk did as requested, and they exchanged weapons again.

The supposition of Mr. Brainerd was, that the shot he had fired would keep the Indians at bay for a considerable while, though he knew better than to trust to any such probability.

The gun that had served him so well was in his grasp again, and a feeling of self-confidence came with it.

Much less time had pa.s.sed since the disaster to the patriots on the other side the Susquehanna than would be supposed; but, while the settler lay stretched out on the rock, watching for the second Indian, he became aware that he was watching by the aid of moonlight and starlight alone.

It was all the harder to keep close guard, but it was indispensable, and he doubted not that when he pulled trigger a second time another Seneca would take a header down the ravine.

Some fifteen minutes pa.s.sed, when Mr. Brainerd either saw, or fancied he saw, a precisely similar fluttering movement as preceded the leap of him who fell a victim to his marksmans.h.i.+p.

He held his gun pointed, the hammer raised, and his finger on the trigger, ready to fire the second it should become necessary.

He was not kept waiting; sooner than he antic.i.p.ated, the crouching figure shot out into the air, as if propelled from a catapult, and, with the same remarkable aim, the patriot pulled the trigger at the moment the warrior was at the arch of the brief parabola.

But, to his consternation, the powder flashed in the pan, and no discharge followed the dull click of the flint.

CHAPTER XXII.

With the body of the Seneca covered by the rifle of Mr. Brainerd the latter pulled the trigger, at the very moment the body was in mid-air, but the gun was undischarged.

Habakkuk McEwen, in his flurry, had rammed down the bullet first, and the weapon was useless until the ball was extracted.

Where the elder had shown such vigilance, it was singular that he had forgotten to take a very simple precaution--he should have had the African or New Englander covering the same point, and arranged that one should fire with him.