For as we lay watching, something came down from the skies and shattered on the rocks beside me. Feeling about, I found that it had been an arrow, and now we were in grave danger indeed. If we withdrew under the shelter of the cave, we would lose sight of that open gully beneath us; but if we lay there without covering above, the Chippewa arrows could descend full upon us. Gib was having his men shoot straight up, so that the arrows would fall with fearful force, and against such shooting we were defenseless.
They pattered down all around, shattering on the rock and yet seeming to miss us altogether. Before long the Mohawk, who had refused to listen to my word that we should seek shelter inside the cave and defend its mouth, began to chant something in a low voice that swelled louder and louder. A wild, barbaric chant it was, in words that I knew not, but ever and anon he would lift one of the fusils and shoot, though I could see no object at which to aim. When his chant died down again I asked him the meaning of it.
"I go on the Ghost-trail, my brother," he responded after a moment. "The Chippewa arrows are very sharp, and the Great Spirit has called me. I hear the voice of the Keeper of the Eastern Door. He asks me why I wait. I am waiting for my father the White Eagle, oh Ta-cha-noon-tia!" With which he trailed off into his own tongue once more and paid no further heed to me.
I knew not whether he had been struck with one of those falling arrows, for he had made no sign. A moment later he pressed a fusil into my hands.
"They come, brother! Be ready!"
I loaded it as rapidly as might be, but had not finished when a great yell went up from the darkness, and across the snow came the Chippewas—dark splotches that seemed to leap over the white ground.
The Arrow waited, and then when they seemed to be almost upon us, he began firing. One after another of the foremost figures went down, and I managed to get the first gun to him as he fired the fourth. Before that rain of lead the Chippewas broke and fled, but I heard the voice of Gib ring out, and knew that he was still unharmed. When the muskets were once more loaded, I left the ledge for an instant, and ran back to the cave, in order to reassure Ruth. I found her and Radisson just as I had left them, on the pile of skins, and although the fire had died down, there was plenty of wood in the cave from which to replenish it. In a few words I told them of the repulse.
"And Swift Arrow?" demanded Radisson quickly. "Why was he singing the death-chant? Is he also hurt?
"I know not," was my hesitating answer, and the tears could not be kept back—nor were they the tears of a boy. "He is waiting for you, he said."
"Ah! Then he will not have long to wait, methinks," Radisson breathed, holding the hand of Ruth. At sight of Grim I bethought me that he might well prove of service, and so I called him to follow me out to the front of the cave.