Part 12 (1/2)
The captain grinned with satisfaction as he took his place behind the barricade.
”I reckon they'll have to be pretty smart to get on this point,” he commented. ”There's a tidy stretch of right open ground to be crossed before they reach here.”
”I picked it out just for that reason,” Charley admitted. ”We can stand them off here during the day, but at night we cannot stop them, I fear.”
”Aye, aye,” nodded the captain thoughtfully, ”that's the reason for fixing up the canoes.”
Charley nodded in turn. ”I hope we won't have to take to them,” he said. ”It would come hard to lose our ponies, our packs, and all that helps to make our camp life comfortable.”
”We won't lose 'em,” declared the captain, cheerfully. ”This time to-morrow night we'll be safe and hearty sitting around the fire figuring up our share of the rewards they must be offering by this time for those pretty jail-birds.”
This ended the conversation, for each took his position behind the tree barricade with all senses alert for any indications of an attack.
For long Charley kept s.h.i.+fting his gaze from the woods before him to the tall sapling on Lookout Point. At last a smudge of red showed near the sapling's top for a minute, then disappeared, and he gave a shout of relief. ”Walter's there all right,” he called to his companions, ”I saw his signal.”
The morning wore slowly away without a sign of their enemies.
”What have you figured out is the reason they ain't troubling us, Charley?” the captain called when the noon hour was at last reached.
”I have been studying over it for a long time, sir,” the lad answered, ”and have come to the conclusion that they have decided to postpone finis.h.i.+ng us up until they have disposed of the Indians. I guess they are afraid that the noise of firearms would put the Seminoles on their guard if they happen to be within hearing. Anyway, I guess, we can spare Chris long enough to get us a lunch.”
Chris lost no time in getting together a hasty dinner, which was as quickly disposed of by the sentinels.
From now on Charley kept his eyes anxiously on the distant point and sapling, hoping, longing, and expecting to catch a glimpse of the fluttering square of red which would wave the welcome news that Walter had sighted the Indian fleet.
One o'clock pa.s.sed, two o'clock, three, and still no signal.
”Take it calm, lad, they'll be along soon,” the captain said soothingly, to Charley, who was nervously pacing back and forth, his face drawn and anxious.
”For de Lawd sake, look over there by dem convicts' point. Oh, golly, oh golly!” cried Chris, suddenly.
Charley gave one glance and buried his face in his hands to shut out the coming horror. ”Fool, fool that I was,” he moaned. ”Not to know that it would be the home-bound Indians loaded with plumes they would be laying for, not the empty handed ones coming out of the glades.”
The captain was by his side in a second. ”Don't take it hard, lad,” he said, gently. ”You done your best. We all stumbled into the same mistake. Look away for a minute, lad. It will soon be over, I dare say.”
But Charley, though torn with regrets, took his hands from his face and gazed steadily at the tragedy nearing its climax.
Winding past the convicts' point in single file, came a long line of some thirty canoes, uncouth, shapeless things, each hewed out of a great cypress log. In the end of each an Indian stood erect plying a long pole which sent their clumsy looking crafts forward at surprising speed. Magnificent savages they were, not one less than six feet tall, framed like athletes, and lithe and supple as panthers.
One man in each boat was the rule, but in the leading canoe a young Indian lad was also squatted, in the bow.
With breathless suspense our hunters stood helpless to warn or help as the long line glided on to its fate.
Ten, twelve, fourteen, fifteen stole past the point. Then the horror of horrors happened.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE BATTLE.
From the point burst out a sudden cloud of flame and smoke. Six of the canoes in the lead and six in the rear of the long procession came to a sudden halt. Of their occupants, some crumpled up where they had stood like bits of flame-swept paper. Others pitched forward in the bottom of their crafts, while still others stood for a minute swaying from left to right like drunken men, to finally crash over the sides like fallen trees, taking their cranky crafts over with them in their plunge of death.
Only for a second was there confusion amongst the remaining canoes.