The Prairie Flower: A Tale of the Indian Border. Gustave AimardЧитать онлайн книгу.
a few moments of profound examination, the stranger seized the emigrant's arm, and bending down to his ear, said in a weak voice, like the sighing of the breeze, one word which made him tremble, as she stretched out her arm in the direction of the plain.
"Look!"
Black bent forward.
"Oh!" he said a minute after, "what is the meaning of this?"
The prairie, as we have already mentioned, was covered in several places by blocks of granite and dead trees; singularly enough, these black dots, at first a considerable distance from the camp, seemed approaching insensibly, and now were only a short way from it. As it was physically impossible for rocks and trees to move of their own accord, there must be a cause for this, which the worthy emigrant, whose mind was anything but subtle, cudgelled his brains in vain to guess. This new Birnam Wood, which moved all alone, made him excessively uncomfortable; his son and servants had also noticed the same fact, though equally unable to account for it. Black remarked specially that a tree he remembered perfectly well seeing that same evening more than one hundred and fifty feet from the mound, had suddenly come so close, that it was hardly thirty paces off. The stranger, without evincing any emotion, whispered —
"They are the Indians!"
"The Indians?" he said, "impossible!"
She knelt behind the palisade, shouldered her rifle, and after taking a careful aim, pulled the trigger. A flash traversed the darkness, and at the same moment the pretended tree bounded like a deer. A terrible yell was raised, and the Redskins appeared, rushing toward the camp like a herd of wolves, brandishing their weapons, and howling like demons. The Americans, very superstitious people, reassured by seeing that they had only to deal with men, when they feared some spell, received their enemies bravely with a rolling and well-directed fire. Still, the Indians, probably knowing the small number of white men, did not recoil, but pushed on boldly. The Redskins were hardly a few yards off, and were preparing to carry the barricades, when a shot, fired by the stranger, tolled over an Indian ahead of the rest, at the instant he turned to his comrades to encourage them to follow him.
The fall of this man produced an effect which the Americans, who fancied themselves lost, were far from anticipating. As if by enchantment, the Indians disappeared, the yells ceased, and the deepest silence prevailed again. It might be supposed that all that had passed was a dream. The Americans regarded each other with amazement, not knowing to what they should attribute this sudden retreat.
"That is incomprehensible," Black said, after assuring himself by a hasty glance that none of his party were wounded; "can you explain that, mistress, you, who seem to be our guardian angel, for it is to your last shot we owe the rest we at present enjoy?"
"Ah!" she said, with a sarcastic smile, "you are beginning to do me justice, then."
"Do not speak about that," the emigrant said, with an angry voice; "I am a fool; pardon me, and forget my suspicions."
"I have forgotten them," she replied. "As for that which astounds you, it is very simple. The man I killed, or, at any rate, wounded, was an Indian chief of great reputation; on seeing him fall, his warriors were discouraged, and they ran to carry him off the field, lest his scalp should fall into your hands."
"Oh, oh!" Black said, with a gesture of disgust; "do these Pagans fancy we are like themselves? No, no! I would kill them to the last man, in self-defence, and no one could blame me for it; but as for scalping, that is a different matter. I am an honest Virginian, without a drop of red blood in my veins. My father's son does not commit such infamy."
"I approve your remarks," the stranger said, in a sorrowful voice; "scalping is a frightful torture; unfortunately, many white men on the prairies do not think like you; they have adopted Indian fashions, and scalp, without ceremony, the enemies they kill."
"They are wrong."
"Possibly; I am far from justifying them."
"So that," the emigrant joyfully exclaimed, "we are free from these red devils."
"Do not rejoice yet; you will soon see them return."
"What, again?"
"They have only suspended their attack to carry off their killed and wounded, and probably to invent some other plan, to get the better of you."
"Oh, that will not be difficult; in spite of all our efforts, it will be impossible for us to resist that flock of birds of prey, who rush on us from all sides, as on a carcass. What can five rifles effect against that legion of demons?"
"Much, if you do not despair."
"Oh, as for that, you may be easy, we will not yield an inch; we are resolved to die at our posts."
"Your bravery pleases me," the stranger said, "perhaps all will end better than you suppose."
"May Heaven hear you, my worthy woman."
"Let us lose no time; the Indians may return to the charge at any moment, so let us try to be as successful this time as the first."
"I will."
"Good! Are you a man of resolution?"
"I fancy I have proved it."
"That is true. How many days' provisions have you here?"
"Four, at the least."
"That is to say, eight, if necessary."
"Pretty nearly."
"Good! Now, if you like, I will get rid of your enemies for a long time."
"I ask nothing better."
Suddenly the war cry of the Redskins was again heard, but this time more strident and unearthly than the first.
"It is too late!" the stranger said, sorrowfully, "All that is left is to die bravely."
"Let us die, then; but first kill as many of these Pagans as we can," John Black answered. "Hurrah! my boys, for Uncle Sam!"
"Hurrah!" his comrades shouted, brandishing their weapons.
The Indians responded to this challenge by yells of rage, and the combat recommenced, though this time it was more serious. After rising to utter their formidable war cry, the Indians scattered, and advanced slowly toward the camp, by crawling on the ground. When they found in their road the stump of a tree or a bush capable of offering them shelter, they stopped to fire an arrow or a bullet. The new tactics adopted by their enemies disconcerted the Americans, whose bullets were too often wasted; for, unluckily, the Indians were almost invisible in the gloom, and, with that cunning so characteristic of them, shook the grass so cleverly, that the deceived emigrants did not know where to aim.
"We are lost," Black exclaimed despondingly.
"The position is indeed becoming critical; but we must not despair yet," the stranger remarked; "one chance is left us; a very poor one, I grant; but which I shall employ when the moment arrives. Try to hold out in a hand-to-hand fight."
"Come," the emigrant said, shouldering his rifle, "there is one of the devils who will not get any further."
A Blackfoot warrior, whose head rose at this moment above the grass, had his skull fractured by the American's bullet. The Redskins suddenly rose, and rushed, howling, on the barricade, where the emigrants awaited them firmly. A point-blank discharge received the Indians, and a hand-to-hand fight began. The Americans, standing on the barricades and clubbing their rifles, dashed down every one who came within their reach. Suddenly, at the moment when the emigrants, overpowered by numbers, fell back a step, the stranger rushed up the barricade, with a torch in her hand, and uttering such a savage yell, that the combatants stopped, with a shudder. The flame of the torch was reflected on the stranger's face, and imparted to it a demoniac expression. She held her head high, and stretched out her arm, with a magnificent gesture of authority.
"Back!" she shrieked. "Back, devils!"
At this extraordinary apparition, the Redskins remained for a moment motionless, as if petrified, but then they rushed headlong down the slope, flying, with the utmost terror. The Americans, interested witnesses of this incomprehensible scene, gave a sigh of relief. They were saved! Saved by a miracle!