Part 23 (1/2)
”We shall certainly need it, to-night.”
The sun was already sinking behind the western hills, into a rich ma.s.s of crimson clouds. The night approached with a melancholy step, and every heart in the cottage beat with anxiety for the first sound that should indicate the presence of the enemy. The aspect of nature was calm and lovely. The setting sun wore the look of yesterday; familiar objects gazed brightly in the golden garments which were woven around them; the long shadows pointed eastward, towards the coming to-morrow. But who can foretell, from the look of this day, what shall be the appearance of the next?
CHAPTER XIX.
”Ah! whence yon glare, That fires the arch of heaven?--that dark-red smoke, Blotting the silver moon?”
Sh.e.l.ley.
An hour had pa.s.sed, and yet there were no indications of an attack. The inmates of the cottage had taken their places as on the night of the previous conflict; and, with all their senses upon the alert, endeavored to detect the approach of an enemy, from whom so much was to be feared.
Ruth and Singing-Bird had both taken positions by the loop-holes, and without strenuous objection; for, on a night that threatened to be so dangerous, they, even, might render important resistance. Another hour pa.s.sed. Was it possible that the Indians, satisfied with the lives of their two unfortunate prisoners, had abandoned the idea of again attacking the cottage? This query presented itself to the mind of more than one of the little garrison; and it was with a pleasant thrill of hope, that the idea first occurred to the mind of Ruth. Even Ichabod, with all his experience in Indian character, suggested to Eagle's-Wing the possibility that such a hope might be well-founded.
”No,” was the answer; ”don't know Injins if you think so. They come, sartin, by'mby. Panther cunning Injin. He mean to get cottage to-night, any way--that what it means.”
”Do you suppose, Eagle's-Wing, that they're anywhere round here now?”
asked Ichabod, more to hear what his friend would answer, than for any other purpose.
”Guess so; guess that ravine _full_ of Injins. Hear 'em, by'mby. They won't yell nor shoot. Know that don't do any good. Can't shoot through logs; that they know.”
”I reckon you're about right, Eagle's-Wing. They want to put us off our guard; and by-and-by some miscreant will try to set us afire. But if we watch, we can prevent that; they can't _carry_ fire without our seeing it.”
”Don't know that. Little spark make great fire, sometime. Hide little spark pretty well, if they try.”
The night had now become dark; the sky was partly obscured by clouds--sufficiently so to render it extremely difficult to discern objects no larger than the size of a man, at even a rod's distance. But while the darkness would allow the Indians to approach nearer the building with less chance of detection, it would also render it more difficult for them to conceal any attempt to set the cottage on fire.
Two, three, or even four hours, might elapse ere any demonstration on the part of the Senecas would be made. This uncertainty, united with the darkness and silence which reigned both within and without, tasked the spirits of the defenders more than any open attack would have done. No anxiety is more overpowering than that of awaiting an event the coming of which is to be dreaded, and yet which will certainly arrive. In the whole range of catastrophes to which mankind are subject, there is, perhaps, but one important exception to this remark, and that is the great catastrophe to which each individual of the human family is subject, which is certain to arrive, and which is universally dreaded.
It may arrive soon or late--no one knows when, or how it will come; yet the anxiety incident to that event, is easily overcome; and one by one, a generation pa.s.ses away, each one knowing well his doom, yet neglecting the least preparation.
This anxiety at length became so irksome, that a desultory conversation sprung up between the different individuals of the party--yet, without any cessation of watchfulness, Ichabod, who had remained silent since the last reply of Eagle's-Wing, now again addressed his companion.
”Why wouldn't it be a good idea for one of us to reconnoitre a little?
We could find out for sartin whether any of the reptiles are ra'ally round here or not?”
Eagle's-Wing did not answer. His eyes seemed to be strained almost from their sockets in endeavoring to pierce the darkness. Suddenly the silence was broken by the discharge of his rifle; and at the unexpected sound amidst the unnatural quiet which reigned around them, every member of the little garrison started simultaneously with the report. A scream was heard from the outside, towards the ravine, and Ichabod saw an Indian fall struggling upon the ground, while a small brand of fire fell by his side upon the dry leaves along the edge of the ravine.
”Well done, Eagle's-Wing!” exclaimed Ichabod. ”It takes an Injin to see an Injin in the dark; but that rascal won't set fire to the cottage, any way.”
”Plenty more, down yonder, where he come from. They keep still, though; won't be foolish, this time.”
It was true, that although the Seneca had fallen, and the brand of fire which he had carried concealed, lay by his side; not a sound indicated the presence of another enemy. They had failed in this attempt; but another might be more successful. It was evident, that on this occasion, the Senecas would throw away no chances of triumph.
It has already been mentioned that the forest on the edge of the ravine, approached within three or four rods of the cottage; and as the ground was strewn with dry leaves and dead underbrush, the feelings of safety which the defenders of the cottage, for a moment, had entertained on the detection of this attempt to set the building on fire, was now exchanged for alarm. The brand which had fallen by the side of the Indian, had unfortunately fallen upon a small pile of dry underbrush, which was also covered with dry leaves. A slight wind, which now blew in occasional light gusts from the northward, ignited the whole brand into a live coal, and a feeble blaze began to ascend from around it.
”_Con_-found the fire!” exclaimed Ichabod. ”I'll try and stop that enemy, any way.”
He discharged his rifle at the burning brand, and the coal flew scattered in all directions. This was a risk which he foresaw. The scattered coals might fall upon other places which were equally dangerous; if so, the danger would be increased; but there was a chance, too, that they might fall upon places where they would be extinguished.
For a moment, the experiment seemed perfectly successful; a feeble and flickering blaze, that seemed about to expire, only remained where the brand had originally fallen. But another slight gust of wind now came, and the feeble blaze streamed upwards into a steady fire.
”Over here, with your rifles,” shouted Ichabod; and five rifles were at once discharged into the burning pile. The blazing brush was partially scattered; but that now seemed to increase the danger. The wind came in gentle currents, and the dry leaves and brush were taking fire in half-a-dozen different places. It was useless to fight an enemy which was only multiplied and made more dangerous by defeat.