CHAPTER VII.
ADVENTURE ON THE ISLAND.
For some time after the departure of Hezekiah and Pat Mulroony, Waring and Virginia Lander stood silent and thoughtful. Several feet away, they could see the form of her father, seated upon the ground, his head bowed forward, and his whole soul seemingly stricken with despair.
"He appears to feel our sorrow more than we do," whispered Waring, whose heart bled for the suffering man.
"It is not that," replied Virginia; "it is his bodily sufferings that trouble him. Poor father! how I wish to brush the hair from his clammy brow. I will go to him in a minute—he is praying now."
A soft, murmuring monotone was audible, and young Waring knew that he was engaged with his Maker. The scene was too impressive, their surroundings too solemn, for them to indulge in conversation, and they preserved a respectful silence; the maiden leaning upon her betrothed, and waiting until her parent was through before she should go to him.
After the lapse of several more minutes, she saw him raise his head, and walking hastily toward him, threw her arms around his neck, and gave way to her tears of sorrow. Her whole soul was in agony, and her grief could not be restrained. Waring, who was accustomed to the suffering of the father, witnessed the emotion of the loving daughter, and was so overcome that he suddenly turned his head, and moved away. It was too much for him.
Hardly conscious of what he was doing, he walked slowly out from the protection of the trees, and stood on the moonlit beach. He placed the stock of his rifle on the hard shingle, and leaning upon it, gave way to the most gloomy meditations.
Directly before him, as motionless as a rock, rested the hulk of the sunken flat-boat. The soft ripple of the Ohio against the sand at his feet, that deep, hollow murmur of the great wilderness, were the only sounds that reached him; and these, from their monotonous continuity, seemed silence itself. The moon was nearly overhead, shining in that peculiar manner, that the river seemed to reflect more light than it received. A few straggling clouds, as white as snow-drifts, now and then floated before the moon, and huge, grotesque shadows glided over the island, across the stream, and into the wood, like phantoms. On either side, the frowning forest rose like a wall of blackness and seemed to close the whites in an impregnable prison.
It was no wonder that the young adventurer felt gloomy and despairing. It could not be otherwise than thus, while within a dozen miles of the settlement, and in the most dangerous portion of the river, an accident should place him and his friends in the most imminent peril, and make the escape of all of them, as it seemed to him, an utter impossibility.
Waring was in the midst of these gloomy forebodings, when the noise of a light footstep startled him, and looking around, he turned to greet his friends:
"Well, what have you discovered?" he added. "Are we alone on the island?"
To his surprise he received no reply.
"What are the prospects of our getting over the mainland"——
As quick as lightning Waring's rifle was at his shoulder, and one of the approaching Shawanoes was shot through the breast. With a wild yell, he sprang high in the air, and fell dead upon the sand. At the same moment the white man saw something cleave the air, and heard a rushing sound close to his face, followed by the splash of the tomahawk in the water behind him. Clubbing his rifle, he stood on the defensive, when he noted that neither of the savages had possessed a rifle, and conscious that he was more than a match for the surviving one, he made a rush at him.
The Indian turned to flee, and Waring had hardly started in pursuit, when the report of a second rifle was heard among the trees, followed by a series of whoops and yells, as if a legion of demons had suddenly been loosed. With that presence of mind which ever characterized the young man, he comprehended his critical peril in an instant. The trees were swarming with Shawanoes. If he went a rod further, his destruction would be inevitable.
Wheeling around with such celerity, that his momentum carried him nearly off his feet, he flung his gun from him, and ran for life to the flat-boat. Stepping one foot into the water, he made a tremendous bound, and alighted upon the gunwale, the same as a bird would have done; and then tearing his hat from his head, he concentrated all his energies in the one effort, and sprang full fifteen feet out into the river.
The instant he came to the surface, he gasped for breath and dove again, swimming while beneath the surface, as far out toward the Kentucky shore as it was possible, repeating the manœuver several times, until believing he was at a safe distance from the island, he swam sideways, and anxiously surveyed the island.
So prompt and rapid had been his movements, that he had not been seen, and his own escape, if he chose to improve the opportunity given him, was at least insured; but Luther Waring would have rather been smitten by instant annihilation, rather than desert the two beings that he had left behind him. The thought had never once entered his head.
He continued off the island until the current had nearly carried him half way to the water's edge, so that he believed he had run little risk of discovery. As he walked in under the shadows, several forms followed him like phantoms, while as many more closed around him from the wood. Waring had taken but a few steps, when he was startled by hearing a deep groan. His apprehension told him at once that it was the voice of Lander, and he was moving toward the point from which it came, when he caught a glimpse of the shadow-like figures around him, and saw that the most dangerous crisis of his life was upon him.
The Shawanoes had not yet surrounded him, and conscious that all depended upon a quick and energetic decision, Waring made a dash to regain the river. The dense undergrowth at this portion of the island impeded the movements of both pursuer and pursued; but the activity of the white man was superior, and he was the foremost at the beach, when, making another terrific leap, he bounded out into deep water, and dove beneath the surface.
While submerged, Waring heard distinctly the dull report of the rifles, and the skipping of the bullets, as they glanced over the water. Being a skilful swimmer, he turned upon his back, and as he was borne slowly upward, he allowed only his mouth and nose to be exposed, when, inhaling a sufficient quantity of air, he again dove, and repeated precisely the same manœuver that we have described before.
Finally, believing he was again safe, he allowed his head and shoulders to come to view, and looked back toward the island. To his dismay, an Indian canoe was within a dozen feet of him. Its occupants descried him at the same moment that he discovered them, and now commenced a most exciting race of life and death.
One minute would have decided the contest in the middle of the river, but fortunately, indeed, Waring's efforts had brought him within a few rods of the shore. Fearful of being fired upon, he repeated his stratagem of diving, and when he came to the surface, struggled frantically to gain the shore, with the canoe darting forward like a shadow. As soon as he could gain a foothold, he tore through the foaming water, and dashed into the woods, while the canoe was scarcely twice its length behind him.
It was only by the most skilful running, dodging, and doubling, that Waring succeeded in freeing himself from his agile pursuers. He had gone fully half a mile in the forest before this was accomplished, but he found himself, at length, entirely alone, and panting and exhausted, he seated himself upon the ground, to decide upon the next course to pursue.
He could not think of leaving the island, when he had every reason to believe that all he held dear on earth was upon it. Virginia was a captive in the hands of the merciless Shawanoes, and even if he could afford her no assistance, he could certainly learn something of her fate, and form some plan for her rescue.
With this determination he arose, and retraced his steps. It is hardly necessary to say that he made his way as silently, stealthily and cautiously as it was his ability to do; starting at every rustling wind, or falling leaf. Upon reaching the shore of the river, he found that he was above the island, and again wading it, swam out toward it.
Waring wished, if possible, to recover his rifle, and gain a glimpse of the band of Indians who had slain Lander, and who held his daughter captive. Steadying himself, he allowed the current to carry him downward, and when several rods distant, checked his motion, and took a survey of the flat-boat and the surroundings.
He saw his rifle lying on the beach, its ornamented stock and barrel shining in the moonlight. After carefully surveying every portion of the island, that came under his observation, he detected no sign of danger, and was about to let himself float forward again, when the lifted head of the Shawanoe rose above the gunwale, and remained in view for fully a minute.
As the moon shone fully upon the savage, Waring distinguished the features plainly. He concluded at once that there was several others upon the flat-boat, and all waiting for his return. The savage gazed carefully about him, and descrying nothing, his head disappeared from view.
"Ah, my fine fellow," thought Waring, as he noiselessly swam toward the Ohio shore, "you may watch there quite a while, before you catch me in any of your traps. You have had enough blood for to-night."
He now floated slowly down the river, keeping about midway between the island and the Ohio bank, and, so far as possible, examined the former, as he passed the bank. Reaching its extremity, he passed around it, and commenced ascending the opposite side, so as to complete his reconnoisance.
This was an extremely difficult task, and none but the most powerful swimmer could have accomplished it. But Waring succeeded, and finally "anchored" for a few moments abreast of the flat-boat, while he took another observation of it. He saw nothing more of the Indians, although he firmly believed they were still upon it.
He was convinced that the major portion of the Shawanoes were still upon the island, and after floating somewhat lower, he landed at precisely the same spot where he came so nigh being captured before. Feeling confident that he had not been seen, he unhesitatingly came ashore, and passed beneath the shadow of the trees.
Upon coming from the water, his limbs were so heavy, and he felt so exhausted, that he threw himself down upon the ground, to gain a few moments rest. Despite the exciting scenes through which he had just participated, and the terrible ordeal through which he had just passed, he fell asleep almost immediately.
It was in the midst of a fearful dream of tomahawks, scalping-knives, Indians and murders, that he was awakened by a grasp upon his arm. Believing resistance to be useless, he lay motionless, waiting for the command of his captors.
"If you've no objection, I should like to inquire whether you are not about through with your nap?" inquired the well-known voice of Hezekiah Smith.