Seth Jones/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III.
THE DARK CLOUD BURSTS.
"Are you certain?" asked Haverland, with a painful eagerness.
"As sure as I live!"
"How? when? where did you see them? Pray, answer quick, for I feel that the lives of precious ones stand in peril."
"The facts are few—they are. When I went down to the spring, I seed them pesky varmints thar, and I knowed they war waitin' for your little booty, 'cause if they wa'n't, they'd have walloped me thunderin' soon. I seed 'em sneaking 'round, and purtended as though I didn't 'spicion nothin'. They've found I's about, and have gone down for more help. They'll be back here to-night with a whole pack. Fact, by gracious!"
"You speak truly; and, as matters stand thus, it is time for action."
"Exactly so; and what is it you propose to dew?"
"As you have afforded me. such signal aid thus far, I must again ask you for advice."
"Pshaw! don't you know what to dew, man?"
"I have a plan, but I would hear yours first."
"Wal, I can give it purty soon. You know well enough you're in tight quarters, and the best thing you can do is to git away from here, a leetle quicker nor no time. You know the settlements ain't more nor twenty miles off, and you'd better pack up and be off, and lose no time, neither."
"That was my plan, exactly. But hold! we must go by water, and will it not be best to wait and go by night, when we will have the darkness to protect us? We have just learned that the river contains enough enemies to frustrate our designs should they be known. Yes, we must wait till night."
"You're right there: and, as there is no moon, we'll have a good chance, especially as we have to go down stream instead of up. I tell yeou, the war is going on. When I left home, I had an idee things would be fixed so as to stop these infarnal redskins from committin' on their depredations, although they looked mighty squally; but 'tain't no use, and it won't do to trust these critters."
Shortly after, Haverland turned and entered the house, followed by Seth. He called his wife and sister in, and explained, in a few words, the circumstances. It was but a realization of the fears entertained, and no time was lost in useless laments. Preparations were immediately made for the removal. The woodman owned a large boat, somewhat similar to the flat-boats seen at this day upon the western waters. This was hauled in beneath the shrubbery which overhung the bank, and into this their things were placed. During the removal Seth remained along the river bank, keeping watch of the stream, lest their enemies might return unawares.
The removal occupied most of the afternoon, and it was not until the shadows were lengthening across the river, that the last article was placed on board. This completed, all seated themselves in the boat, and waited for the rapidly approaching darkness, to glide out into the stream.
"It is hard," said Haverland, somewhat moodily, "to leave one's home after all the difficulty in rearing it is finished."
"Fact, by gracious!" added Seth, whom Mary eyed very closely, as if not satisfied with the fellow's ways and looks.
"But it is best, dear husband. Let us hope, now, that the war is ended, and that, as we have passed through as great dangers as those that now threaten us, the time is not far distant when we may return to this spot with safety."
"We can but die once," said Mary, abstractedly, "and I am ready for any fate."
Seth studied her face with a quick, keen glance, then smiled, and said: "Oh, you look a here, now. I am captain here, by your leave, my dears, and I ain't goin' to allow any sick stomachs in this here crew." His sunny face seemed greatly to encourage the little band.
"I wouldn't fear to remain here now," said Ina, bravely, "I am sure we soon may return. I feel it."
Haverland kissed his child, but made no further reply, and all relapsed into a stillness, and ceased further conversation. There was something in the gathering gloom around, something in the peculiar situation in which they were placed, that imparted a despondency to all. The boat was still fastened to the shore, and the time for loosening it was close at hand. Mrs. Haverland had passed within the rude cabin, the door of which remained open, while Seth and the husband remained in the stern. Ina sat near at hand, and had fallen into the same silence that rested upon the others.
"Doesn't it look dark and awful back there?" she asked, in a whisper, of Seth, pointing toward the shore.
"It does somewhat, I think."
"And yet I wouldn't be afraid to go back to the house."
"You'd better stay in the boat, young 'un."
"You think I am afraid, do you?" she said, bounding out the boat to the shore.
"Ina! Ina! what do you mean?" asked the father, sternly.
"Oh, nothing; only I want to take a little run to ease my limbs."
"Come back here instantly!"
"Yes—oh, father! quick! quick! come take me!"
"Seize the oar and shove out!" commanded Seth, springing into the water, and shoving the boat off.
"But, for God's sake, my child!"
"You can't help her—the Injins have got her. I see 'em; drop quick, they're goin' to fire! Look out!"
At that instant there was the sharp crack of several rifles from the shore, and several tongues of fire flamed from the darkness, and the wild yell of a number of Indians pealed out in horrid strength.
Had it not been for Seth all would have been lost. He comprehended every thing in an instant, and saved the others.
"Oh, father! mother! The Indians have got me!" came in agonized accents from the shore.
"Merciful God! must I see my child perish without heeding her cry?" groaned Haverland, in spirit.
"No, they won't hurt her, and we must take care of ourselves while we can. Don't stand up, for they can see you."
"Father, will you leave me?" came again in heart-rending tones.
"Don't be scart, young 'un," called out Seth; "keep up a good heart. I'll git you agin ef you behave yourself. I will, as sure as I am Seth Jones. Just keep up pluck, little one." The last words were shouted loudly, for the boat was fast gliding into the stream.
The mother had heard all, and said nothing. She comprehended it, and with a groan sank back upon a seat. Mary's eyes flashed like a tigress at bay; and she did not cease to cast looks of indignation at Seth, for leaving the child to her horrid fate so coolly. But she said nothing—was as quiet and pale as a statue. Seth eyed her like a lynx; his eyeballs seemed like fire. But he was as cool as if at his ease perfectly; and he quickly made all feel that he was born for such appalling emergencies.
They were now within the center of the stream, and moving quite rapidly. The darkness was so great that the shores were now vailed from sight. And with hearts in as deep a gloom the fugitives floated downward.