While thus conversing, Earth had hurried away to obtain the use of a tent, and Rolfe and Gay, having entered the camp, their appearance was hailed with much pleasure, and every comfort which it afforded was readily extended to them. Her story was soon known, and even there excited much attention. Her escape was regarded as little less than miraculous, and the many difficulties which she had already encountered won for her the regard of many who cheered her with the hope that all dangers were now passed, and that she would soon reach the settlements in safety. At this time Earthquake rejoined them, saying that one of the officers had kindly begged that the lady would occupy his tent, and Gay complaining much of fatigue, was by Rolfe conducted thither, and left to repose.
Throughout the whole of the day, the army lay within their entrenchments, fearing to venture out; for they had suffered very heavy loss, and now knew neither the number of the Indians, nor whither they had gone. Night came, and still no enemy appeared. Every precaution was taken to prevent another surprise, and they awaited the return of morning with the most anxious solicitude. It came:—beautiful and cheering was the breaking day, and with its first light, was heard the morning drum, calling the soldiers to arms; and, soon after, the whole army was in motion, and on parade.—The dragoons and mounted riflemen were then detailed,—ordered to reconnoitre the town, and report the number and position of the Indians. They performed their task, and returned quickly, saying, that the town was deserted,—not an Indian to be seen.
Orders were then given that the town should be burned, and the soldiers set out for that purpose. Rolfe and Earth, leaving Gay protected by the detachment stationed at the camp, proceeded with them. Moving forward, they had, at every step, examined the features of the Indians who were slain, fearing lest they should find Oloompa among the number. He was not with those who lay around the camp, where only the battle had raged; and now they continued on to the deserted town, for the purpose of prosecuting their search, knowing that thither had been carried the wounded.
“Earth,” said Rolfe, “you told us when we met you yesterday, that you saw him during the action:—tell me where?”
“It was not long,” said Earth, “after I got into the camp. I'll tell you all about it some of these times. It was a mighty nice thing, that, before;—I think I had just used up a fellow, who slipped in and squatted by the fire to fix his flint;—well, as I was saying, it was at that time; I was loading, and mighty fast too, about as fast as if a neighbour had had his fingers in my eyes, and I was anxious to shoot him, when I saw a fellow with his rifle up, taking deliberate sight at me. It was too late to get out of the way, and I made up my mind to give up the ghost, when I saw his rifle drop. As he put it down, he cried, ‘hah!’ and instantly disappeared in the darkness. It was just before we covered up the fires, and I only got a glimpse of his face as he turned off; but, Rolfe, I never saw him look as he did then.”
“Then, Earth, he spared you even in battle.”
“He did so, Rolfe, and I don't believe he would have raised his rifle agin me at first, if he had known me.”
“Earth,” said Rolfe, “if he is wounded, I hope we shall find him, for he behaved so nobly I should be pleased to have it in my power to extend to him any assistance.”
“So would I,” answered Earth, “for I set him down as an exception to all I ever knowed. I wonder what has become of the old woman, and the Ingen gal; he had a mighty strong liking for her.”
“Oh! I trust,” said Rolfe, “that they escaped, and are safe. Gay told me last night how kind they had been to her. Earth, no mother or sister could have been more so, and then, in conniving at her escape, they risked their lives, and may for ought we know, have already suffered death on that account.”