Part 34 (1/2)
While thus engaged the clouds rolled off the moon, and I saw my companions clearly, sitting like statues at their posts. In a few minutes I heard the sweet, low voice of Eve. She was speaking to her mother. As I sat there and observed her fair hair and skin, and recalled (for I could not just then see) her blue eyes, I found it difficult to believe that there was even a drop of Indian blood in her veins. ”Not that I object to Indian blood,” I said to myself, mentally, in self-justification, ”by no means. Indians are G.o.d's creatures as well as white men, and many of them are a great deal better creatures than many white men, but--”
At this point my mental remarks ceased, for I observed, to my surprise, that Eve opened a small book, and from the continuous tone of her voice, I knew that she was reading.
”It must be the Testament,” thought I, ”which poor Liston mentioned in his ma.n.u.script as having been obtained from a hunter.”
The voice became more distinct as she proceeded, and I could make out that she read the English slowly and with great difficulty, and then translated it into Indian to her mother.
”G.o.d so loved the world,” she read with peculiar emphasis, and paused, as if wis.h.i.+ng to impress the blessed truth, ”that He gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life.”
She closed the book at this point and I observed that she bent over the sick woman a long time.
Suddenly there arose on the still night-air a low wail, so deep--so suggestive of a breaking heart, that I sprang up and leaped to the girl's side.
There was no occasion to ask what had occurred. The mother lay there dead, with the jaw dropped and the glazing eyes staring at the sky.
Kneeling down I gently closed the eyes, and with a napkin bound up the face. Big Otter glided towards us, followed by Salamander. One glance sufficed. They cast a look of pity at the orphan, who, with her face on her knees, sobbed as if her heart would break. Then, without a word, they glided back to their posts. I turned to Eve and took her hand.
”Dear girl,” I began--but she checked me.
”Go,” she said, ”danger may be near; your post is unguarded.”
Raising her hand to my lips I left her without a word, and resumed my watch. Again profound silence reigned around, broken only now and then by an irrepressible sob from Eve.
Some hours afterwards--I knew not how many, for I had been half asleep-- Big Otter came to me.
”We may not stay here,” he said. ”Come, I need your help.”
Without reply I rose and followed. It was still very dark. He went to where the body of the Indian woman lay. It was cold and stiff by that time. In pa.s.sing I noticed that poor Eve acted as sentinel for Big Otter--occupied his post and held his gun.
I found that a shallow grave had been hollowed out close to where the corpse lay.
Understanding at once the purpose for which I had been called, I kneeled at the head while the Indian kneeled at the feet. Grasping the shoulders carefully I waited for a word or look from Big Otter, but instead he turned his head to one side and uttered the single word,--”Come!”
Eve glided instantly towards us, went down on her knees, and printed a long pa.s.sionate kiss on the cold forehead. Then the Indian looked at me, and we lifted the body into the grave. Eve spread a blanket carefully over it, and at once left us to resume her post at the breastwork, while we covered in the grave with earth and dead leaves.
We had barely accomplished this duty when a loud report rudely broke the silence of the night, and a rus.h.i.+ng of feet was heard at the foot of the mound. Leaping to my post, I instantly fired one of the barrels of my gun. Several fierce cries followed, showing that the buckshot had taken effect, and from the nature of the cries we at once perceived that our a.s.sailants were white men. I purposely reserved my second barrel, for my comrades, having also fired, were swiftly reloading, and, therefore, defenceless.
It was well that I did so, for two men, who had not been in the first rush, now came up the mound at a run. Aiming right between them, I fired and shot them both. They fell with hideous cries, and, rolling head over heels down the steep ascent, went cras.h.i.+ng into the bushes.
”They are the men from whom we have just escaped,” said I to Big Otter; but my Indian friend was so elated by the success of my shot and withal so excited by the fray, that instead of answering, he gave vent to a terrific war-whoop in true Indian style.
The attacking party had come on in front from the direction of the plains. To my consternation, Big Otter's war cry was replied to in our rear. Turning quickly, I saw the dark forms of several savages running up the slope of our fortress. These, like the white men, had been attracted to us by our column of fire. I was going to send a charge of buckshot amongst them, when my Indian friend stopped me.
”Let them come,” he said, quickly. ”They and the white men are sworn foes. Be ready to follow me.”
This last was said to all of us, for we had instinctively drawn to the centre of our plateau with the idea of fighting back to back with the foes who surrounded us. Again we heard the white men charging up the front of our little hill, but, before they reached the top, a dozen savages had leaped into our enclosure.
”Help! against the pale-face dogs,” cried Big Otter, pointing his gun, and firing at them as they came up.
A wild war-whoop rang out from the Indians, who were only too ready to accept the invitation to fight the pale-faces. A defiant cheer burst in reply from the white men, who were equally eager for the fray.