“I want some water,” hoarsely whispered Bub; “I dry.”
“Well, don’t make any noise, and Charlie’ll get you some.”
So, waiting till after nightfall, Charlie put his head cautiously out of the hole, and peered around. The spring was not far off; but Charlie knew that the savages would be likely to guard that, and he did not venture to draw his whole body from the aperture save with the utmost caution, and very slowly. Satisfying himself that the Indians were not noticing the tree, he drew himself completely out, and then, putting his head in again, whispered,–
“Now, Bub, don’t you move nor stir, while I go for the water. I’ll be back in a minute.”
The heroic boy might have been taken in the darkness for an overgrown caterpillar, he crawled so softly towards the spring. He knew that if he broke a stick or twig, or inadvertently hit his coffee-pot against an obstacle, the quick ear of the Indian would be sure to detect it, and yet he was surprised at his own coolness and mastery of himself; and he accomplished the feat, returning with the black old pot filled to the brim.
He had got within a few feet of the tree, when, in range of the opening, he saw a figure apparently watching him. Charlie thought his hour had come; that it was a savage ready with 245 his scalping-knife, and had given up all for lost, when the dark form moved from out the shadow towards him, and to his consternation he saw that it was Bub, who trudged forward, saying in a loud whisper,–
“Has oo dot any water?”
Charlie, to save further noise, chose the bold alternative of letting him drink on the spot; and retaining his prostrate condition, quickly put the pot to Bub’s lips, and the child swallowed great draughts with satisfied gutturals that seemed to Charlie’s apprehensive ear like the reports of pocket pistols. He let him drink his fill, however, then, pulling him down by his chubby legs, thrust him swiftly, but softly, through the aperture, following as fast as he could, and keeping perfectly still for a full hour before he dared venture forth again for the coffee-pot, which he was obliged to leave behind.
The vigilance of their father in the defence of the cabin not only kept the children in the tree longer than Charlie bargained for when he turned in, on that memorable afternoon, to play Crusoe, but also put their lives in jeopardy from their father’s bullets. For, as we have said before, the tree being a large one, and conveniently near the cabin, the savages would creep up behind it to shoot from, which would be sure to bring a dangerous response; and Charlie was obliged to know 246 more than once that the tree was perforated by balls from his father’s rifle. At such times the youngsters kept as close to the ground as possible.
When the Indians set fire to the roof of the cabin, Charlie was almost wild with excitement, fearing that his parents would now be burned to death. Nor was his anxiety lessened when he saw his father ascend the roof to extinguish the flames, thus exposing himself to the deadly aim of the foe.