The Cryptogram Part 17

"They had better make a dash for it," exclaimed Baptiste.

"Now is their chance."

"We are all cowards," I cried indignantly. "A party could have dashed out to the rescue by this time."

"Just my opinion, Carew," said a man named Walker. "But who was to give the orders? They must come from the factor. He's down at the gates now, and plenty with him."

"Then I'll get his permission to go out," I cried hotly. "Will you volunteer, men?"

But as I spoke--I had not taken my eyes from the loophole--the situation suddenly took a different turn. The Indians yelled with triumph, and I saw one of the three white men toss up his arms and fall over. At that his companions wheeled about, the one leaping upon the sledge, while the other ran toward the dog leader of the team.

"Only two left!" I shouted. "They are coming! Now for a lively race! G.o.d help them to reach the fort!"

"By Heavens, sir! they'll get in if they are quick!" cried Walker, who was on the other side of the tower. "Hawke knows what to do; he is opening the gates! The men are loading their muskets! They are bringing up the howitzer."

His last sentence I scarcely heard, for I had already left the loophole and was scrambling down the ladder. The next instant I was at the double gates, one of which had been unbarred and thrown wide open. A dozen men were lined up on each side of the entrance, among them Menzies and the factor.

"Stand back," Griffith Hawke shouted at me. "Keep the way clear!"

But I edged up to the front, where my view was uninterrupted. How my heart leaped to see the sledge gliding over the snow, the man inside and the one on snowshoes shouting at the plucky, galloping dogs! But they still had one hundred and fifty yards to come, not far behind them, whooping and yelling, firing musket and hurling tomahawks, were at least two score of redskins--the most of them on snowshoes. Crack, crack, crack! They seemed to be aiming poorly, for the sledge swept on, dogs and men uninjured.

"Be ready!" cried the factor: "make room there! The moment the sledge dashes in let the red devils have a volley--muskets and howitzer!"

What happened next, though it was all over in the fraction of a minute, was intensely exciting and tragic. The tower being high up, the men posted there were now opening fire; l.u.s.ty cheers rose as we saw a couple of Indians go down in the snow.

Bang, bang! a hit this time. The man on snowshoes staggered, reeled, fell over. His comrade turned and shot as the sledge swept on--more than that he could not do. Whether the poor fellow was dead or living we never knew; but nothing mattered the next instant, for the foremost savages reached the spot, and there was the quick gleam of a descending tomahawk.

Fifty yards now to the stockade! In spite of the fire from the tower, the Indians bore on. They let drive another straggling volley, and with a convulsive spring in air, the leading dog of the team dropped dead. In a trice the rest of the dogs, pulled up abruptly, were in a hopeless tangle. The sledge dashed into them, grated sidewise, and tipped over, sending its occupant sprawling on the snow.

I gave the poor fellow up for lost, but his pluck and wits were equal to the emergency. He sprang to his feet, and without looking behind him or stopping to pick up his musket, he struck out for the fort. On he sped, running in a zigzag course, while the now halted Indians blazed away at him, and our men cheered and shouted.

"Watch sharp!" cried Griffith Hawke.

As he spoke the fugitive swerved a little, and ten strides brought him to the gates. He rushed safely past me, and staggered into the inclosure.

Already the baffled redskins had scattered in flight, but they were not to get off so easily. From the marksmen in the watch-tower and at the stockade loopholes, from as many of our eager men as could line up outside the gates, a hot and deadly fire was poured. A way was cleared for the howitzer, and the roar that burst from its iron throat woke a hundred forest echoes.

A great cloud of bluish smoke hid the scene for a moment, and when it drifted and rolled upward, our short-lived opportunity was gone. With almost incredible speed the savages had melted away, and were safe in the shelter of the adjacent timber. They had taken some of their dead and wounded with them, as well as the dogs and sledge; but six or seven bodies lay sprinkled darkly here and there on the snow crust.

Nor were the casualties all on one side, as we now had time to observe.

The last volley delivered by the Indians had killed one of our party and wounded two more. The men were for sallying out against the foe, but Griffith Hawke would have none of it.

"The devils are in ambush," he cried, "and would give us the worst of it. We'll need our powder and ball later, I'm thinking. Make all secure yonder, and be quick about it."

I helped to close and bar the gate, and then pushed into the thick of the clamorous crowd that surrounded the escaped traveler. I had fancied I recognized him when he shot by me, and now the first glimpse told me I was right, for the fugitive was none other than Captain Myles Rudstone.

CHAPTER XX.

THE LOST LOCKET.

Captain Rudstone was in a temper, and but for the press in front of him he would have dashed at the gates.

"What are you afraid of?" he cried. "Why don't you pursue the red devils? make an end of them? They've killed two of the best voyageurs that ever tramped the woods. My G.o.d! what does it all mean?"

"It means war, sir," answered the factor. "The Northwest Company is at the bottom of the mischief. I entreat you to be calm, Captain Rudstone.

The Indians are in force, and it would be sheer madness to try to track them down. I am responsible for the safety of the fort."

These sober words brought the captain to his senses.

"You are right, Hawke," he admitted. "I see there is nothing to be done at present. But, by Heaven! sir, I'll have the blood of a score of redskins for each of those poor comrades of mine. And you say war has broken out? I don't understand--"

Just then his eyes fell on me, and he held out his hand with a stern smile of welcome. I clasped it warmly.

"So we meet again, Mr. Carew?" he exclaimed.

"I wish it had been under happier circ.u.mstances," said I; "but I am heartily glad to see you."

"Thank you," he replied, and his eyes s.h.i.+fted from mine as they had been wont to do formerly. "I have much to be grateful for," he added, "I might be lying yonder with a bullet in my back and a tomahawk in my skull. It was a narrow escape."

"You did not come from Fort York?" I inquired.

"No, from the north--from Fort Churchill, at the mouth of the river. I am finished with my errand in this part of the country, and am bound south. I had no idea that trouble had broken out until I was attacked on the edge of the timber."

"I fear you will be detained here for many a day, Captain Rudstone,"

said Griffith Hawke. "But come to my quarters, and when you have fed and rested I will give you a full report of all that has happened."

Turning to me the factor added:

"See to the wounded, Denzil, and make sure that the sentries are properly posted. Then let me know how matters are going. I don't antic.i.p.ate any further trouble."

That Griffith Hawke should put me in virtual command of the fort at such a time and in preference to several officers who were older and of superior rank, caused me some pride and satisfaction; for just now my mind was taken up with sterner things than my hopeless pa.s.sion for Flora, and what martial spirit was in me had been fired by the prospect of an Indian siege.

After attending to my duties I strode on to the house and entered the cozily-furnished living room. Here logs were blazing in a great fireplace, at opposite sides of which, talking in low tones, sat Father Cleary and Andrew Menzies. The latter's wife, it may be observed, was Flora's companion.

At a table in the middle of the room, with lighted pipes between their teeth and their gla.s.ses of grog handy, were Griffith Hawke and Captain Rudstone. The latter was as handsome and dandified as ever, and by the litter of dishes at one end of the table I knew he had just finished supper. Both had been discussing the Indian troubles, to judge from their grave and thoughtful faces.

The factor's eyes seemed to read me through and through, and there was something in the scrutiny that disturbed and puzzled me. He motioned to a chair and I sat down awkwardly.

"All quiet?" he asked. "You have omitted no precautions?"

I told him what I had done, and he and the captain nodded approval.

"A bad storm has set in?" the latter said interrogatively.