Mass' George

"Now then," said my father, "off! Remember, I shall be trying to keep the Indians at bay if they show, and delay on your part may mean the loss of our lives and--your own."

Morgan gave his head a sharp nod, bent to his oars, and my father turned to me, and cried, as if he were addressing a line of men--

"Load!"

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

I believe my hands trembled, but I stood up firmly in the boat and charged the heavy piece, making the ramrod leap, as I had been told, examined the priming, and then, in obedience to my father's sign, sat down.

Pomp had taken both oars, and was dipping them gently from time to time, to keep the boat's head straight, and after a long look up the reach, my father sat down too.

"Let's see, George," he said, "we are about a mile above the landing-place, and we must give Morgan plenty of time to get there, up to the house, and back. Hold up your gun, and let the Indians see it if they are watching, and I suppose they are. These bow-and-arrow people have a very wholesome dread of powder."

"But suppose they keep creeping near us under shelter, father," I said, "and shoot?"

"They will in all probability miss; let's hope so, at all events. Come, my lad, you have a gun, and you must play soldier now. Will you lie down under shelter of the boat's side?"

"Soldiers don't lie down," I said firmly, though I wanted to do so very badly indeed.

"Oh, yes, they do sometimes. We will as soon as it is necessary; but what I want to do now, my boy, is to gain time. If we row swiftly to the landing-place, the Indians will come on rus.h.i.+ng from tree to tree, and be upon us in a few minutes, for I presume they are in force."

I told him quickly how many we had seen.

"It is a mercy that you went and were taken, George," he said; "it has saved our lives, no doubt. But as I was saying, we want to gain time, and while we sit here slowly drifting down, with these menacing guns pointing in their direction, they will advance very slowly, and keep under cover. If it becomes necessary, I shall have the boat turned, and advance to meet them."

"And then, father?"

"They will retire for a time, not being able to understand so bold an advance, and think that an attack is about to be made upon them from the other

I gazed sharply up the wooded bank of the river, but I could see nothing, and said so.

"No; they were gone directly. They were two spies who had stolen closer up. It means war in earnest now, I am afraid."

He changed his position a little, and examined his gun.

"Ma.s.s' goin' shoot dat gun?" said Pomp, excitedly, after watching and listening with all his energy.

"Yes, my lad," said my father, smiling.

"Ma.s.s' won't shoot Pomp?"

"No. Attend to the oars, and keep the boat's head straight. Don't speak."

"No, ma.s.sa. Oh, look, dat dah!"

Pomp's loud exclamation was due to the fact that an arrow came flying from a low clump of bushes nearly two hundred yards away, its reed shaft glistening in the ruddy light, and its wings looking as if of fire, till it dropped without a splash into the river, far away from where we sat.

"Now I should like to return their fire," said my father, "but I am very doubtful about my gun doing any harm at this distance, so we must wait.

Pull a little, boy, but very gently, so that they will hardly be able to see that we are doing anything to get away."

Pomp dipped the oars, and I sat with my heart beating, waiting to see another arrow come, but for quite a minute there was no sign.

"Good practice for one beginning a frontier life, George," said my father. "Sweep the bank well, and note the smallest movement of a bough. You see there is no wind to move them now."

"I am watching, father," I said, "but I cannot see anything."

"Pomp see lil bit o' one," came from behind us.

"Where, boy?"

"Dah by dat big tree. See um arm. Going to shoot."

Almost as the words left the boy's lips, an arrow came spinning through the air, describing a good arc, and falling in a direct line with the boat, some twenty yards short.

"That's better," said my father, coolly resting his gun on the stern, and half lying down in the boat. "Hah! I could see that."

I had also seen what appeared to be a quick movement of the bushes a short distance from the edge of the bank, a movement which seemed such as would have been made by an animal das.h.i.+ng through.

The waving of the foliage stopped just by a great swamp oak, and upon this tree I fancied that my father fixed his eye.

"Dah again," said Pomp, excitedly. "Going shoot um bow an' arrow."

_Bang_!

The boat rocked a little with the concussion, and as the smoke lifted, I saw an arrow drop into the river a long way to our left.

"I don't think I hit him," said my father; "but I disarranged his aim, and it will check him for a bit."

His words proved correct, for though he stood up in the boat to re-charge his piece, and offered a striking object for the Indian's arrows, none came; and as we floated on and on, it began to seem as if the one shot had been enough to scare the enemy. I said so, but my father shook his head.

"No such good fortune, my boy."

"What are you going to do, father?" I said, after some minutes'

watching, and thinking how strange it was that my calm, quiet father, who was so fond of his studies and his garden, should in a time of emergency like this prove himself to be a firm soldier, ready to fight or scheme against our dangerous foes.

"Escape to the settlement if we can get safely away."

"But--"

I stopped short.

"Well?" he said.

"I was thinking about the house and garden, the furniture and books, and all our treasures."

"Doomed, I'm afraid, George," he said with a sigh. "We must think about saving our lives. We can build up the house again."