CHAPTER VI.
THE AMBUSCADE.
VINCENNES, on the Wabash, was the seat of government chosen by Harrison, as Governor of that territory. Here he was gradually collecting his forces for the coming struggle which he was assured must come, with the Indians under the control of Tecumseh and the Prophet. In the mean time his spies were everywhere gathering such information as they could of the position and designs of the enemy. In choosing these men, Harrison showed great knowledge of the Indian character, and for this reason his most trusted scouts were from that class of bordermen who, trained in border warfare, had also suffered loss at their hands. These he sent into the Indian country upon all sorts of pretenses, to collect information for future use.
Thus he learned who were lukewarm in the British cause, and therefore might be won over to the Americans.
Thus, when the struggle commenced, he knew upon whom to depend, and what he had against him. The Governor was at his own private residence when informed that the Pottawatomie, Dead Chief, and his companions, Captain Floyd and Long Seth Spink, desired to speak with him. He at once ordered them to his presence. Floyd was admitted first, and found the Governor seated at a small table, covered with papers and maps.
"Ah, captain," he said, "I am pleased to see you, although your leave of absence has not yet expired. I don't see what brought you here ahead of your time. You surely can not have had a quarrel with Miss Madge?"
"No, your excellency. Far from that, but the family are in great danger."
"Ha! In what way?"
"The Indians are on the war-path."
Harrison started up eagerly. "By heaven, I thought so. Who are their leaders?"
"The Prophet and Willimack are with the party we met."
"Give an account of the affair in few words."
Floyd commenced with his meeting with the Yankee in the morning, and the attempt of Willimack to enter the stockade, and told the story up to their entrance into the town.
"Then there is not a moment to be lost. Take out your company of the rangers and as many more as you need, and march up the river to the stockade. How far do you call it?"
"About twenty miles."
"Very good. Get your men under arms. Take the Dead Chief with you as a guide, and I will let this man Spink go also. You may send him to me at once."
"The Dead Chief?"
"Seth Spink."
"Oh; do you know him, then?"
"I have heard of him," replied Harrison, with a slight smile. "This action on the part of Willimack is premature, it is evident, and I am certain that the Prophet is not pleased with it, nor do I think Tecumseh knows any thing about it. Send Spink to me."
Floyd went out into the next room, but the Governor followed him to the door, and, speaking with marked kindness to the Dead Chief, told him to go with the captain as guide. Then beckoning to the scout, he again entered the room. The Yankee followed him, closing the door after him. They remained closeted in the room for more than an hour, when the scout came out with a hurried step, and went down to the river-side, where the company of Will Floyd, consisting of nearly a hundred men, were under arms.
"Ha, Spink, my good fellow, hurry up," shouted the captain. "Death, man, do you not see that I am impatient?"
"No use to hurry now, cap," replied Seth. "My father died in a hurry. Ef he'd taken time tew think about it he needn't hev died at all. But, he got it intew his head he couldn't live, and so he went off without thinking. He won't dew that ag'in."
"Is this a time for jesting, sir?" said the captain, angrily. "Take your place. Fall in, men. By fours; trot!"
They set off at a rapid pace, and rode along the river-side beneath the bending branches, heavy with the morning dew. The birds sung in the laden branches, as if a thought of blood or battle never could or would disturb their grand old woods. But, the heart of young Floyd was heavy, for he feared that Willimack would make good his threat of the night before, and attack the stockade before his return. The men shared his fears, and a shade of doubt once or twice crossed the face of the Yankee, but he kept up a good heart, singing snatches of old songs now and then in a quaint way, which caused a smile among the ranks. But, before they had gone five miles his mood changed, and he began to glance quickly from side to side as if expecting an enemy. On they went through the oak openings until the woods began to thicken, when the Yankee bent in his saddle, and whispered in the ear of the captain.
"No, no," said Floyd, testily. "They have retreated, I tell you. They will not risk an encounter now."
"But I think I'm right, fer all that, cap."
"It is impossible. You do not know my rangers, or you would not think the Indians capable of resisting our march."
"I don't believe that the Prophet would fire a gun at a white man, dew yew?" said the Yankee, with a quizzical look. "Cum mi'ty nigh scorching yure legs last night, though."
"He is capable of any small villainy like that," replied the captain. "But, he certainly is too able a warrior to commence before his plans are ripe."
"It's forced upon him, cap. He knows that we've got clear, and that both yew and the Dead Chief are aware of his hostility, so he can't wait. You'd better ride a leetle grain more keerful."
"Nonsense."
"I ain't used tew being talked tew that way, cap. I'm a strange critter, yew know. I dunno heow it is, but I've got a sort of sneaking notion I know something 'bout Injin fi'tin'. Come; order the men tew pull in, and don't make quite so much noise in the ranks."
"You take a great deal upon yourself, friend Spink," said Floyd, with a light laugh. "Perhaps you had better lead the company yourself, as you seem inclined to take command."
"See what it is tew be young," muttered the Yankee, with an appearance of great vexation. "Yew'll force me tew dew something I don't want tew, cap. Now, look here; yew ain't going tew ride intew yonder narrow path, are yew, without sending out scouts?"
"What would you have me do, sir? You know as well as I do that it makes the road three miles longer to keep in the oak openings."
"S'pose it duz? Yew don't want to lose half these nice-looking boys, dew yew? Come; take good advice, and don't go threw them woods."
"I will ride directly forward without turning out of my course for a mere scarecrow cry from you."
A dark frown crossed the face of the Yankee, and he pulled hard on his bridle and left the ranks.
"Go on then, if yew will. Bet yew forty dollars yew don't go fur."
With an angry exclamation Floyd put spurs to his horse, and calling to his men to follow, dashed into the woods. Scarcely had he done so when there was a rattling volley of musketry, and several saddles were emptied, while high and wild above the rattle of the small-arms, rose the gathering cry of the forest banditti. Dark forms glided from bush to bush, and the young captain saw his error. Entangled in the thick woods they must have been lost, but for his prompt action. Snatching a bugle from the hand of a musician, he sounded the call to fall back, and, taking their wounded comrades—for the rangers would not leave them—they hastily retreated, and sheltered themselves behind the bushes in front of the woods and looked after their wounded comrades. Some of the savages showed themselves for a moment, but a volley from the rifles of the rangers quickly drove them back, and they waited for a new advance on the part of the horsemen.
Floyd cast a sidelong glance for the Yankee, but he was gone. In the melée he had taken his horse and slipped away, no one knew whither. Angry with himself for his error, Floyd sent the wounded men back to the village and buried the single dead man in the path, riding over it with the rangers several times so that the Indians could not find and mutilate the body. This done he took a wide detour, leaving the woods on his right, and set off at the best rate of speed for his home. Three miles on the way they met the Yankee coming back with a look of sorrow on his face.
"I couldn't wait tew see it, cap.," he said. "How many of the boys went under?"
"One," replied the captain, sorrowfully. "You were right, Seth. I ought to have kept out of that trap. I know it now, but, that will not atone for my folly. But, think what I feel now when I tell you that it would be a kindness in you to shoot me through the head."
"No," replied Seth, slowly. "I don't think that would pay us, principally because we kain't afford tew lose yew, and yew'll take advice next time. I've been out scouting a little in advance. Ride a little to the front and I'll tell yew what I've found eout."
They quickened their pace, and the Yankee bent in his saddle and said in a low voice: "Willimack hez been over the road since last night."
Floyd started violently, and his face grew pale. "How do you know that?" he cried.
"I kan read Injin sign," answered the Yankee, calmly. "Thar's another thing. I believe the critter they call the Skeleton Scout is arter Willimack."
"Why?"
"'Cause I've seen his sign. Ef he's a ghost, then he's a mighty heavy one. Why, he's got a foot bigger'n mine, ef I kin judge by his trail. Now mind, I don't say he's a human; sartin he don't act like one; but yew bet all yew'r worth he don't like Willimack, or heow in natur' would he chase him up the way he did last night."
"But my father; my dearest Madge!" moaned the unhappy young man. "Oh, why did I ever leave you?"
"'Twould only hev been tew more sculps ef we had been thar," replied the Yankee. "Now, I'll tell yew what I think. Willimack turned back with his own warriors arter the Skileton Scout set you free, and put out fer the stockade."
"I am afraid you are right. Let us press on as quickly as we can."
"No use of that. If he did turn back, and I'm pesky 'fraid he did, all we kan do won't bring us thar in time. I'm afeard the old man didn't half understand his danger, nuther, and was keerless arter we went away. Here, order yure men to close up. Them Injins are behind us now, but I reckin they won't leave a stick or stone standing along the Wabash, now that their blood is up."
The rangers closed up. They quickened their pace, and, late in the afternoon, began to near the clearing in which the settler had built his house and stockade. As they entered the clearing, a heavy smoke was seen to rise toward the summer sky, and, uttering a cry of agony, the young soldier spurred quickly forward, to see what he had most feared and yet had hardly dared to hope had not happened—his father's house in ruins, and still smoking, though the flames had nearly gone out! It was a terrible scene of desolation, but one all too common in the history of these Indian wars.
The rangers surrounded the blackened walls. In some places the fire had lost its power over the walls from their green state, and they still stood, though blackened and half consumed. The house itself had fallen, and the charred rafters lay among the smoldering embers of that once happy home. The desolation did not stop here, for there, in the opening between the stockade and the house, lay the bodies of the two soldiers, who had been killed and scalped and horribly mutilated.
"Poor Lefebre! unhappy Forbes!" said the young soldier. "Yours was indeed a sad, sad fate. God in his mercy take you in his keeping! But, where is my father?"
They searched here and there, and, at length, half hidden by a heavy beam which had fallen upon their lifeless bodies, they found the murdered forms of the three negroes, like the soldiers, scalped and gory. All the indignities which savage ferocity could invent had been heaped upon the wretched men who had here met their fate. Floyd was ghastly pale, and reeled in his walk like a drunken man as the five bodies were drawn out into the open space and laid down, side by side. One of the soldiers dismounted, and, taking his blanket from his saddle, and begging another from a comrade, covered the lifeless forms from the public gaze. The Yankee, whose face seemed twitching convulsively, looked fiercely about him as each new exhibition of savage spite showed itself.
"Why don't you help me, Seth?" said Floyd, feebly.
"I don't know. I'm sartin of one thing, and that is that Miss Madge would kill herself if she could to keep herself out of the hands of them pizen critters. It's awful, awful! Move round, boys, and look fer the capt'in's father. Be alive, men, and don't look so scared. I don't blame yew, poor lads, when tew of yure comrades are gone. And then, them black boys and the old lady. Here, take hold of these rafters and throw 'em off. Mebbe the old gentleman is underneath."
They tossed aside the still smoldering rafters and yet found nothing. The floor was only partly burned. The Yankee threw off a trap-door which had led into the cellar, and looked down. He could see nothing as yet, for a mass of dense smoke was rolling slowly upward from the cellar and he stood aside until this passed off, and then descended.
"Hurry!" he cried, at length. "I've got somebody. Two of you boys come down."
Down two of the rangers leaped, and in a few moments' time reappeared, bearing a body to the surface. It was found to be that of an Indian, who evidently had been killed by a pistol bullet. The rangers kicked the senseless form to one side just as the face of Seth appeared at the opening.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"It's a cussed Injin," answered one of the rangers.
"Darn him," roared Seth. "Raise his ha'r, some of yew, while I go down ag'in. I'm sartin I'll find somebody down here."
He disappeared again. By this time the smoke had passed out and he could see plainly. Upon the cellar floor was a track of blood, which led into the large drain in the corner. Following this trace, the Yankee stooped and saw that the feet of a man were just within the drain. He seized upon the feet and drew him out, and showed the bloody form of Mr. Floyd, senseless from a hatchet wound in the head, but breathing heavily, like one in a trance.