With Boone on the frontier

Several weeks later Mrs. Parsons was at the spring getting a bucket of water when, without warning, an arrow came whizzing in her direction, and buried itself in the ground close by.

With a shriek the good woman let fall her bucket and rushed for the cabin, shrieking that the Indians were at hand.

“The Indians!” cried Harmony, who had her hands deep in a batch of dough she was kneading.

“Yes, the Indians!” panted the Quakeress. “They just shot an arrow at me. Get thee gone, Cora, and tell Harry and thy brother.”

Cora needed no second notice, but leaping up from her spinning frame rushed to the opposite side of the cabin, where Joe and Harry were working in the garden.

“The Indians! the Indians!” she called loudly. “Come into the house!”

At the announcement both young pioneers dropped their garden tools and caught up their muskets, leaning against a stone wall.

“Where are they?” demanded Harry, who was the first to reach the cabin.

“I don’t know. But one shot an arrow at your mother.”

“Mother, are you hurt?” asked Harry.

“No,” was the answer. “But the arrow came close to me. See, there it is,” and she pointed it out with her hand.

“I see the Indian!” cried Harry, and pointed to the distant forest. A red man had crossed an open place on a run.

Eagerly those in the cabin watched for the reappearance of the Indian, and in the meantime all armed themselves, the boys with their rifles, Mrs. Parsons with a shotgun, and the girls with pistols. The outer doors of the cabin were closed and barred, and also the windows, leaving only the loopholes open.

“It must mean an uprising,” said Joe, who had his eye glued to a loophole on one side of the cabin, while Harry kept guard at a loophole opposite.

“This is some of Red Feather’s work,” came from Harry bitterly. “I knew it was a mistake to let him go.”

“More than likely Yellow Blanket has got Long Knife to make the attack,” answered Joe.

Ten minutes went by, and they saw nothing of the Indians. Then a yell from a distance rent the air, followed by a number of scattering shots.

“That is over to the Ford cabin,” said Joe. “I hope they haven’t caught Mr. Ford and Darry in the open. If they have it’s good-by to them.”

“I’m going up to the roof to take a look around,” said Harry, and lost no time in climbing the ladder to the loft.

The roof was a sloping one, and near the ridge was a trapdoor or scuttle. Standing on a block of wood that was handy, Harry raised the trapdoor and looked out.

Hardly had he done so than there followed the flight of two arrows directed at him. One struck the roof just below the lad, and the other grazed his hair. He tumbled back and let the trapdoor fall into place with a bang.

“See anything?” queried Joe from below.

“All I want to,” answered Harry, when he could recover sufficiently to speak.

“What do you mean?”

“Two of the wretches fired arrows at me, and they came altogether too close for comfort.”

“Phew! Then this cabin is being watched surely, Harry!”

“Be careful, my son,” pleaded Mrs. Parsons. “Thee must not expose thyself again.”

“I’m not going to,” answered Harry.

Once more the young pioneer took his station at a loophole. He and Joe were at opposite sides of the living room, while Mrs. Parsons and the girls were on the watch from the bedchambers.

“How much water have we on hand?” asked Joe, presently.

“The cask is full,” answered Harmony. “I looked only this morning.”

She referred to a cask that had been sunk under the living room floor sometime before. This cask had been fitted with a cover, and the water in it was changed once a week by either Joe or Harry. It was not used ordinarily, but had been placed there for possible use in just such an emergency as now seemed at hand.

“Do you—do you think they’ll keep on the watch until to-night?” faltered Cora.

“Possibly—unless they are defeated in other directions,” answered Joe.

Slowly an hour went by, and still none of the red men appeared. Twice they heard rifle-shots at a great distance, but that was all.

“They seem to have moved in another direction,” said Harry.

“Don’t give up watching,” was his chum’s caution.

A little later they heard a dozen or more shots in the direction of the fort. Then came a yell, and more shots lasting the best part of a quarter of an hour.

“I see an Indian!” cried Harmony, later still. “He is crossing the clearing where you cut down the last tree.”

Both Joe and Harry rushed to look, but before they could get an eye at the loophole the enemy had disappeared.

“We’ve got to continue on guard,” said Joe. “Those wretches wouldn’t like anything better than to catch us unawares.”

The first alarm had come shortly after midday, and the balance of the afternoon wore away slowly. To relieve the monotony of the lookout, those on guard shifted from one loophole to another. When it grew dark Mrs. Parsons prepared a hasty supper.

“We had best eat now,” she said. “Later on there may not be a chance.”

Although outwardly calm, each person in the cabin was tremendously excited. The girls were particularly nervous, for they well knew what capture by the Indians might mean.

“I’d rather die first,” whispered Harmony to her sister.

“So would I,” Cora answered. And then they both thought of their mother and of Clara Parsons. Where were these loved ones now?

“If they are going to attack at all it will be to-night,” said Joe. “We’ll have to remain on guard until morning.”

Slowly the mantle of night fell. The Indians had timed their raid on the settlement well. There was no moon, and the drifting clouds cut off many of the stars.

Mrs. Parsons’ eyesight was not of the best, and it was decided that Joe and Cora were to take up the first watch, lasting three hours, and were then to give place to Harry and Harmony for the next three hours. This would give each a much needed rest, for to watch at a loophole proved very tiring both to eyes and nerves.

With the coming of night all became silent around the cabin. No candles were lit and all the lower cracks in the cabin logs were covered by having articles of furniture placed against them. Thus it would be impossible for the Indians to look inside, even if they came up close to the building.

An ordinary eye would have distinguished little outside during that watch. But Joe’s eye was trained by constant usage, and he made a note of many things—the flight of birds and the slinking of a fox across one of the clearings.

The sight of the fox was a little cheering. “If he can sneak around the Indians must be pretty far away,” was the way the young pioneer reasoned.

At last Joe’s watch came to an end, and he and Cora laid down to rest, leaving Harry and Harmony on guard. Then another hour dragged by, seeming little short of an age.

Harmony had just uttered a long sigh of weariness when something caught her eye and caused her to become once again on the alert. Something was moving among the trees nearest to the cabin.

“I see something!” she whispered. “Whether it is an Indian, or a white man, or an animal, I cannot tell.”

“We’ll take no chances,” said Harry, and ran to the loophole, at the same time rousing Joe and the others.

It was an Indian Harmony had seen. He was now behind a tree, but soon they saw him come forth once more, drop into the grass, and worm his way along toward the cabin.

“He is coming this way,” cried Harry softly.

“Alone?” queried Joe.

“Yes.”

“Then give him a shot, as soon as he is in range.”

“Be sure he is an Indian,” came from Mrs. Parsons. “You do not want to shoot a friend.”

“A friend would come forward boldly,” answered Joe.

Trembling with excitement, Harry pushed the muzzle of his rifle through the loophole. Then he took careful aim at the uncertain figure in the grass and fired.

There was a shriek of pain and the red enemy leaped up and swung around one arm as if in intense pain. Then he dropped down again and loped back to the protection of the forest.

“I hit him—but I didn’t kill him,” said Harry, as he pulled in his smoking firearm; and then he set to work to reload the rifle with all speed.

Once more they went on watch, and slowly the minutes went by. Then Joe suddenly thrust out his gun-barrel and discharged the weapon.

Another yell followed, and an Indian who had been in hiding behind the stone wall of the garden fell forward, shot through the shoulder. But he, too, managed to crawl away and disappeared into the forest.

This was the last of the alarms. Evidently the Indians imagined the cabin well protected, and they did not dare to make a rush. Slowly the morning dawned, and hardly had the sun peeped over the trees than they saw Daniel Boone riding toward the cabin at full speed, followed by half a dozen frontiersmen.

“Hurrah, here is Colonel Boone!” cried Joe, and he threw open the door to receive the great hunter.

“Are you all safe here?” demanded Boone, with a quick glance around.

“Yes, we are all safe,” answered Harry; “but we have had a pretty hard night of it,” and he told their story.

“The Indians attacked seven of the cabins in this settlement and some cabins further off,” said Daniel Boone. “A small party of ’em also came to the fort. But we have sent them about their business with the loss of but one man—old Wimbley—who was brutally murdered in the woods. Three of the redskins were killed in the various fights and there are probably a dozen wounded.”

“Who led the raid, do you know that?” asked Joe.

“Long Knife. He is now at the head of all the tribes in this neighborhood. Red Feather is dead.”

Daniel Boone was out rounding up the settlers to go after the Indians. Joe readily agreed to go along, leaving Harry to watch over those at the log cabin.

“Take care of yourself, Joe,” said Harry, as the pair parted.

“And you take care of yourself and the others, Harry,” was the answer.

It was nearly noon before the settlers started out, sixty-five strong, and led by Colonel Boone. Each man carried a rifle and plenty of ammunition, and in addition rations for two days. If more food was needed the settlers felt that they could easily supply themselves from the game in the forest and the plenteous fish in the numerous streams.