Part 8 (1/2)

”A warrior is in the thicket,” he said. ”I would not have seen him as he crept forward had not a darker shadow appeared upon the shadow of the night. But he is there, awaiting a chance to steal upon us and fire.”

”And others are near, seeking the same opportunity.”

”It is so, Dagaeoga. The attack will soon begin.”

”Shall we warn Willet?”

”The Great Bear has seen already. His eyes pierce the dark and they have noted the warrior, and the other warriors. Lie down, Dagaeoga, the first warrior is going to fire.”

Robert sank almost flat. There was a report in the bush, a flash of fire, and a bullet whistled high over their heads. From a point on their right came an answering report and flash, and the warrior in the bush uttered his death cry. Robert, who was watching him, saw him throw up his hands and fall.

”It was the bullet of the Great Bear that replied,” said Tayoga. ”It was rash to fire when such a marksman lay near. Now the battle begins.”

The forest gave forth a great shout, penetrating and full of menace, coming in full volume, and indicating to the shrewd ears of Tayoga the presence of two or three hundred warriors. Robert knew, too, that a large force was now before them. How long could the thirty hold back the Indian hosts? Yet he had the word of Tayoga that Tododaho looked down upon them with benignity and that all the omens and presages were favorable. There was a flash at his elbow and a rifle sang its deadly song in his ear. Then Tayoga uttered a sigh of satisfaction.

”My bullet was not wasted,” he said.

Robert waited his opportunity, and fired at a dusky figure which he saw fall. He was heart and soul averse to bloodshed, but in the heat of action, and in self-defense, he forgot his repugnance. He was as eager now for a shot as Tayoga, Willet, or any other of the thirty. Tayoga, who had reloaded, pulled trigger again and then a burst of firing came from the savage host. But the thirty, inured to the forest and forest warfare, were sheltered well, and they took no hurt. The Indians who were usually poor marksmen, fired many bullets after their fas.h.i.+on and wasted much lead.

”They make a great noise, inflict no wounds, and do not advance,”

whispered Tayoga to Robert.

”Doubtless they are surprised much at meeting our line in the forest, and think us many times more numerous than we are.”

”And we may fill their minds with illusions,” said Robert hopefully.

”They may infer from our strong resistance that reenforcements have come, that the Mohawks are here, or that Colonel Johnson himself has arrived with Colonial troops.”

”It may be that Waraiyageh will come in time,” said Tayoga. ”Ah, they are trying to pa.s.s around our right flank.”

His comment was drawn by distant shots on their right. The reports, however, did not advance, and the two, rea.s.sured, settled back into their places. Three or four of the best scouts and skirmishers were at the threatened point, and they created the effect of at least a dozen.

Robert knew that the illusion of a great force confronting them was growing in the Indian mind, and his heart glowed with satisfaction.

While they held the savage host the fugitive train was putting fresh miles between them and pursuit. Suddenly he raised his own rifle and fired. Then he uttered a low cry of disappointment.

”It was Tandakora himself,” he said. ”I couldn't mistake his size, but it was only a glimpse, and I missed.”

”The time of the Ojibway has not come,” said Tayoga with conviction, ”but it will come before this war is over.”

”The sooner the better for our people and yours, Tayoga.”

”That is so, Dagaeoga.”

They did not talk much more for a long time because the combat in the forest and the dark deepened, and the thirty were so active that there was little time for question or answer. They crept back and forth from bush to bush and from log to log, firing whenever they saw a flitting form, and reloading with quick fingers. Now and then Willet, or some other, would reply with a defiant shout to the yells of the warriors, and thus, while the combat of the sharpshooters surged to and fro in the dim light, many hours pa.s.sed.

But the thirty held the line. Robert knew that the illusion of at least a hundred, doubtless more, was created in the minds of the warriors, and, fighting with their proverbial caution, they would attempt no rush.

He had a sanguine belief now that they could hold the entire host until day, and then the fleeing train would be at least twenty miles farther on. A few of the thirty had been wounded, though not badly enough to put them out of the combat, but Robert himself had not been touched. As usual with him in moments of success or triumph his spirits flamed high, and his occasional shout of defiance rose above the others.