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The Riflemen of the Ohio, a novel by Joseph A. Altsheler |
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Chapter 19. The Watery Pass |
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_ CHAPTER XIX. THE WATERY PASS Henry was at the tiller of their boat, and the others pulled on the oars. Their strong arms soon sent it to a point near the head of the fleet. On the way they passed the _Independence_ and Adam Colfax. Adolphe Drouillard and the others waved their hands to them. Paul, as he rested one hand from his oar, waved in reply, and then put both hands to the oar again. All signs were being fulfilled. The darkness was increasing, and it was more than that of the night. Heavy clouds were moving up toward the zenith and joining in one until they covered all the heavens. Save when the lightning flashed, both shores were hidden in the darkness. The voyagers saw only the turbid current of the Ohio, raised into waves now by the wind which was coming stronger and stronger. "Rough night, but good fur us," said Tom Ross. "And it will be rougher, also better," said Henry. The lightning increased, blazing across the skies with dazzling intensity, and heavy thunder rolled all around the half circle of the horizon. The darkness turned into a bluish gray, ghostly and full of threat. Adam Colfax went through his fleet, warning everybody to cover up the stores and to beware of wind and wave. The men wrapped themselves in their cloaks and protected beneath the same cloaks their rifles and ammunition. But, despite every order, a hum ran through the fleet, and rowers, riflemen, and guides talked in whispers. They recalled the great double battle on the Lower Mississippi, that of the bank and that of the bayou. The crisis now was equally as great, and the surroundings were more ominous. They advanced in the darkness with thunder and lightning about them, and they felt that they were about to face the bravest of all the Indian tribes, led by the greatest of their leaders. The heat was succeeded by a rushing cold wind, the lightning flared brighter than ever, and the thunder became a slow, monotonous, unbroken roll. Paul, despite his work at the oar, shivered a little. "She'll be here in a minute," said Tom Ross. "Be shore you fellers keep your powder dry." It was about midnight, and they were advancing rapidly toward the pass. They saw by the flashes of lightning that the cliffs were rising and the river narrowing. "The hills on both sides here are jest covered with warriors," said Jim Hart. "Thar may be a million uv 'em," said Shif'less Sol, "but in the rain an' a black night they can't shoot straight." The wind began to whistle and its coldness increased. Great cold drops struck the five in the face. "Here she is!" said Tom Ross. Then the rain swept down, not in a wild gush but steady, persistent, and full of chill. Lightning and thunder alike ceased. Every boat saw only the outline of the one before it and the rolling current of the Ohio beneath it. Noise had ceased on the fleet at the stern command of Adam Colfax and his lieutenants. The men talked only in whispers, there was no flapping of sail, only the swash of the oars in the water, drowned by the wind. Since the lightning had ceased, both shores were lost permanently in the darkness, and the five, who now knew this part of the river thoroughly, moved up to the head of the line, leading the way. After them came the _Independence_ and then the fleet in the same double line formation that it had used before. "Do you see anything on either side, Henry?" asked Tom Ross, raising his back from the oar. "Nothing, Tom," replied Henry, "and it seems strange to me. So great a chief as Timmendiquas would foresee such an attempt as this of ours, at such a time." "We ain't goin' to git through without a fight, rain or no rain, night or no night," said Shif'less Sol in a tone of finality, and Henry silently, but in his heart, agreed with him. They were going so slowly now, to prevent collision or noise, that only Tom Ross and Long Jim rowed. Henry and Shif'less Sol, near the front of the boat, leaned forward and tried to pierce the darkness with their eyes. The rain was beating heavily upon their backs, and they were wet through and through, but at such a time they did not notice it. Their rifles and their powder were dry under their buckskin hunting shirts, and that was sufficient. Henry and Shif'less Sol near the prow bent forward, and, shielding their eyes from the rain with their hands, never moved. The blackest darkness even can be pierced in time by a persistent gaze, and, as the channel of the river narrowed still further, Henry thought he saw something blacker upon the black waters. He turned his head a little and met the eyes of Shif'less Sol. "Do you see it?" he whispered. "I see it," replied the shiftless one, "an' I take it to be an Indian canoe." "So do I," rejoined Henry, "and I think I can see another to the right and another to the left." "Indian sentinels watchin' fur us. The White Lightnin' o' the Wyandots is ez great a chief ez you said he wuz. He ain't asleep." "I can see three more canoes now," said Henry as they proceeded further. "They must have a line of them across the river. Look, they see us, too!" They saw an Indian in the canoe nearest them rise suddenly to his knees, fire a rifle in the air, and utter a long warning whoop, which rose high above the rush of the rain. All the Indian canoes disappeared almost instantly, as if they had been swallowed up in the black water. But Henry and his comrades knew very well that they had merely been propelled by swift paddles toward the shore. "It's the signal," exclaimed Henry. "We are not to pass without a fight." The five stopped their boat, the _Independence_ also stopped, and the whole fleet stopped with them. The sound of a rifle shot from the right bank rose above the sweep of the wind and the rain, and then from the left bank came a similar report. The five knew at once that these were signals, although they could not yet surmise what they portended. But the fact was soon disclosed. A sudden blaze of light appeared on the high south bank, and then, as if in answer to it, another blaze sprang up on the equally high north bank. Both leaped high, and the roar of the flames could be heard mingling with that of the wind and rain. The effect of this sudden emergence of light from dark was startling. The hills clothed in forest, dripping with water, leaped out, the water turned from black to gray, and the fleet in its two stationary lines could now be seen distinctly. "What a transformation!" exclaimed Paul. The faces of his comrades were lurid in the light from the two great bonfires, taking on an almost unearthly tinge. But Henry Ware said: "It is Timmendiquas! It is his master-stroke! He has built these great bonfires which rain cannot put out in order to place us in the light! On, boys, the faster we go now the better!" Adam Colfax also understood, and, as he gave the signal, the huge sweeps made the _Independence_ leap forward. Behind her the whole fleet advanced rapidly. It was well that they had protected the sides of their boats as much as they could with planks and bales of goods, as a great rifle fire was immediately opened upon them from either bank. Hundreds of bullets splashed the water, buried themselves in the bales or wood, and some struck the rowers. But the fleet did not stop. It went straight on as fast as the men could send it, and few shots were fired in reply. Yet they could see the forms of warriors outlined in black tracery against the fires. Two other fires, equally large, and opposite each other, leaped up further on. Henry had not underrated the greatness of Timmendiquas as a forest general. Even with all the elements against him, he would devise plans for keeping his enemy from forcing the watery pass. Paul was appalled. He had been through scenes of terror, but never such another as this. The Indians had begun to shout, as if to encourage one another and to frighten the foe, and the sweep of the wind and the rain mingling with their yelling gave it an effect tremendously weird and terrifying. Nature also helped man. It began to thunder again, and sudden flashes of lightning blazed across the stream. "Don't fire unless you see something that you can hit," was the order passed down the lines by Adam Colfax, and the fleet pulled steadily on, while the hail of bullets from either shore beat upon it. Many men were wounded, and a few were killed, but the fleet never stopped, going on like a great buffalo with wolves tearing at its flanks, but still strong and dangerous. The smallness of their boat and the fact that it lay so low in the water made for the safety of the five. The glare of the fires threw the bigger vessels into relief, but it was not likely that many of the warriors would notice their own little craft. There was a blaze of lightning so vivid that it made all of them blink, and with a mighty crash a thunderbolt struck among the trees on the south bank. Paul had a vision of a blasted trunk and rending boughs, and his heart missed a few beats, before he could realize that he himself had not been struck down. The whole fleet paused an instant as if hurt and terrified, but in another instant it went on again. Then the bullets began to sing and whistle over their heads in increased volume, and Henry looked attentively at the southern shore. "I think that warriors in canoes are hovering along the bank there and firing upon us. What do you say, Sol?" "I say you're right," replied the shiftless one. "Then we'll let the _Independence_ take the lead for a while," said Henry, "and burn their faces a little for their impudence." The boat turned and slid gently away toward the southern shore. The light cast from the fires was brightest in the middle of the stream, and they were soon in half shadow. "Can you make 'em out clearly, Sol?" asked Henry. "If I ain't mistook, an' I know I ain't," replied the shiftless one, "thar's a little bunch o' canoes right thar at the overhangin' ledge." "Sol is shorely right," added Tom Ross, "an' I kin reach the fust canoe with a bullet." "Then let 'em have it," said Henry. Silent Tom raised his rifle, and with instant aim fired. An Indian uttered a cry and fell from his canoe into the water. Henry and the shiftless one fired with deadly aim, and Long Jim and Paul followed. There was terror and confusion among the canoes, and the survivors, abandoning them, dashed up the bank and into the darkness. They reloaded their rifles, scattered some canoes further up, and then swung back to the fleet, which was still going forward at the same steady, even pace under a ceaseless shower of bullets. It was here that Adam Colfax best showed his courage, tenacity, and judgment. Although his men were being slain or wounded, he would not yet let them return the fire, because there was no certainty that they could do any damage among the warriors in the forest. He might have fired the brass twelve pounders, and they would have made a great noise, but it would have been a waste of powder and ball badly needed in the east. He had run more than one blockade, but this awed even his iron soul. The note of the Indian yell was more like the scream of a savage wild beast than the sound of a human voice, and the mingling of the thunder and lightning with all this noise of battle shook his nerves. But his will made them quiet again, and from the deck of the _Independence_ he continually passed back the word: "Push on! push on! But don't reply to their fire." The two scouts, Thrale and Lyon, with several of the best riflemen, also dropped into a small boat and began to pick off the skirmishers near the water's edge. Two other boats were filled with sharpshooters for the same purpose, and their daring and skill were a great help to the harassed fleet. The pass was several miles in length, and at such a time the fleet was compelled to move slowly. The boats must not crash into and destroy one another. Above all, it was necessary to preserve the straight and necessary formation of the fleet, as confusion and delay, in all likelihood, would prove fatal. Adam Colfax calculated that he had passed less than one-third of the length of the narrows, as they had been described to him, and his heart became very heavy. The fire of the Indian hordes was increasing in volume. The great bonfires blazed higher and higher, and every minute the fleet was becoming a more distinct target for the savage sharpshooters. The souls of more good men were taking flight. "We have not gone more than a third of the distance," he said to Adolphe Drouillard. "At this rate can we last all the way?" The brave Creole replied: "We have to do it." But his face looked doubtful. He saw, and Adam Colfax saw, signs of distress in the fleet. Under the persistent and terrible fire of the warriors the two lines of boats were beginning to sag apart. There were some collisions, and, although no boat had yet been sunk, there was danger of it. The apprehensions of Adam Colfax and his lieutenants were many and great, and they were fully justified. The boat of the five came alongside the _Independence_, and Adam Colfax looked down at it. "We want to come on board," called out Henry. The _Independence_ slowed just a little, and Henry and Shif'less Sol sprang upon her. The other three remained in the boat. Bullets struck near them as they boarded the _Independence_, but none touched them. It was still raining hard, with the vivid accompaniment of wind, thunder, and lightning. Another thunderbolt had struck close by, but fortunately nobody had been hurt. "We've a plan to suggest, if you should think good of it, sir," shouted Henry in Adam Colfax's ear--he was compelled to shout just then because of the thunder. "What is it?" Adam Colfax shouted back. "How far away would you say that bonfire is?" asked Henry, pointing to one of the great fires on the southern shore. "Not more than four hundred yards." "Then, sir, we can put it out." "Put it out?" exclaimed Adam Colfax in amazement. "I would not dare to land men for such a purpose!" "It is not necessary. We must shoot it out. You've got good gunners, and the cannon can then do it. They might put a lot of the warriors there out of the fight at the same time." One of the brass twelve pounders was mounted on the _Independence_, and Adam Colfax was taken at once with the idea. "I should have thought of that before," he said. "I hate to lose any of our cannon balls, but we must spare a few. Uncover the gun and aim at the nearest fire, hitting it at the base if you can." This to the gunners, who obeyed eagerly. They had been chafing throughout the running of the gantlet as they stood beside their beloved but idle piece. The tompion was drawn from the gun, the polished brass of which gleamed through the night and the rain. It was a splendid piece, and the chief gunner, as well as Adam Colfax, looked at it with pride. "You are to shoot that fire out, and at the same time shoot out as much else with it as you can," the leader said to the gunner. "I can do it," replied the gunner with pride and confidence. "I shall load with grape shot, triple charge." Adam Colfax nodded. The triple charge of grape was rammed into the mouth of the brass piece. The muzzle was raised, and the gunner took long aim at the base of the blazing pyramid. Henry and the shiftless one stood by, watching eagerly, and the three in the boat at a little distance were also watching eagerly. Every one of them ran water from head to toe, but they no longer thought about rain, thunder, or lightning. "He'll do it," the shiftless one said in the ear of Henry. The gun was fired. A great blaze of flame leaped from its muzzle, and the _Independence_ shook with the concussion. But the bonfire seemed to spring into the air. It literally went up in a great shower of timber and coals, like fireworks, and when it sank darkness blotted out the space where it had been. "A hit fa'r an' squar'!" exclaimed Shif'less Sol. From the fleet came a thunder of applause, which matched the thunder from the heavens, while from the shore rose a fierce yell of rage and execration. "Well done! Well done!" shouted Adam Colfax to the gunner, who said nothing, but whose smile showed how much he was pleased at this just praise. "It's likely that some warriors went out with their fire," said Henry. "A lot of them were bound to be around it, feeding it and making it go in all this rain." "They can be well spared," said Adam Colfax. "God knows I am not a seeker of human life, but I am resolved to do my errand. Now for the opposite bonfire on the northern bank." The _Independence_ swung through the fleet, which parted to let her pass, quickly closing up again. The boat came within seventy or eighty yards of the northern shore, all those aboard her sheltering themselves by one means or another from the Indian bullets, one of which struck upon the brazen muzzle of the twelve pounder, but which did no damage. The triple load of grape was used again, and the first shot was not successful, but the second seemed to strike fairly at the base of the bonfire, and it was extinguished as the first had been. The two further up were soon put out in the same manner. The thunder of applause rose in the fleet at every successful shot, and then it swung forward with increased speed. The river at this point sank into darkness, save when the lightning flared across it, and the Indian bullets, which still came like the rain itself, were of necessity fired at random, doing, therefore, little damage. Shif'less Sol laughed in sheer delight. "It was a good trick they played on us," he said, "worthy uv a great chief, but we hev met it with another jest ez good. I s'pose it's a new way to put out fires with a cannon, but it's fine when you know how to shoot them big guns straight. A-kill-us an' Hannibal an' Homer an' all them old soldiers Paul talks about wuz never ez smart ez that." But the battle was not over, nor had they yet forced all the watery pass. The northern Indians were numerous, hardy, and wild for triumph. The great mind and spirit of Timmendiquas, the White Lightning of the Wyandots, urged them on, and they swarmed in hundreds along either shore, standing in the water among the bushes and sending in an incessant rifle fire. Others waded beyond the bushes, and still others darted out in their light canoes, from which they sent bullets at the two dark lines of boats in the middle of the river. The rain came in gusts, and mingled with it was a wind which shrieked now and then like a human being, as it swept over the forests and the water. The thunder formed a bass note to all these noises, and the lightning at times fairly danced upon the water with dazzling brilliancy. It was a confused and terrible advance, in which the boats were in imminent danger from one another. Every one was compelled to move slowly lest it be sunk by the one behind it, and half the fighting force of the fleet was forced to pay its whole attention to the oars and sweeps and steering gear. Paul was dazed a little by the tremendous confusion and mingling of sights and sounds. He saw an Indian near the southern bank aiming his rifle at their boat, and he sought to aim his own in return, but the flash of lightning that had disclosed the warrior was gone, and for the moment he looked only into blank darkness. He shut his eyes, rubbed his hands over them, and then opened them again. The darkness was still there. He did not at that time feel fear. It was too unreal, too much like a hideous nightmare, and he did not realize its full import until afterward. "Shall we ever get through?" he asked, raising his voice above the tumult. "Some o' us will! most o' us, I hope!" shouted Shif'less Sol in reply. "Jumpin' Jehoshephat, but that bullet was close! I think I got a free shave on my left cheek. Did you ever hear sech a yellin' an' shriekin' an' whizzin' o' bullets!" "They are certainly making a determined attack," said Henry. "If they had the fires to go by they'd get us yet. Look, there goes a new fire that they've lighted on the southern bank." A high flame flared among the bushes, but the brass twelve pounder was promptly turned upon it, and after the second shot it disappeared. "It ain't healthy, lightin' fires to-night," said Long Jim grimly. The boats swung forward now at a slightly increased pace. On the _Independence_, Adam Colfax, Adolphe Drouillard, Thrale, Lyon and the others half stood, half knelt, looking steadily ahead, their minds attuned as only the minds of men can be concentrated at such a crisis. In this hour of darkness and danger the souls of the New Hampshire Puritan and of the Louisiana Frenchman were the same. One prayed to his Protestant God and the other to his Catholic God with like fervor and devotion, each praying that He would lead them through this danger, not for themselves, but for their suffering country. The five in their own boat were not less devoted. They, too, felt that a Mighty Presence which was above wind, rain, and fire, alone could save them. Their hands were not on the trigger now. Instead they bent over the oars. Every one of them knew that bullets could do little the rest of the way, and it was for Providence to say whether they should reach the end of the watery pass. The river narrowed still further. They were now at the point where the high banks came closest together and the danger would be greatest. But there was no flinching. The fire from either shore increased. Thunder and lightning, wind and rain raged about them, but they merely bent a little lower over the oars and sent their boats straight toward the flaming gate. _ |
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