Again four heads nodded in approval, and Henry, creeping forward through the bushes, climbed rapidly up the tree. Here, hidden as if by walls, he nevertheless saw well. The gunners, helped by the Indians, were bringing forward both of the cannon. They were fine bronze guns, glistening in the sun, and their wide mouths looked threatening. Spongers, rammers and the real gunners all stood by.
Henry saw a twelve pound ball hoisted into each bronze throat, and then, as the gunners did their work, each mass of metal crashed through the thickets, the savages yelling in delight at the thunderous reports that came back, in echo after echo. There was no reply from the thickets, and they began to reload for the second discharge. Then Henry marked the gunner at the cannon on his right, and slowly the long muzzle of the beautiful blue steel barrel rose until it bore directly upon the man. Paul, from his position, could see Henry in the tree, and he was sorry for the gunner who was about to die there in the forest, four thousand miles from his native land, a good-natured soldier, perhaps, but sent by his superiors on an errand, the full character of which he did not understand.
The sponger and rammer did their work. The shot was fired and the gunner leaned forward, looking eagerly at the dense woods and thickets to see what damage his shot had done. No reply came save a rifle shot, and the gunner fell dead upon his gun. Paul in the thickets shivered a little, but he knew that it must be done.
The allied tribes again gave forth a whoop of rage and chagrin, and Henry from his place in the tree clearly saw Alloway, waving his sword and encouraging them. "If he would only come a little nearer," grimly thought the young forest runner, as he reloaded rapidly, "he might by the loss of his own life save the lives of many others." But Alloway kept back.
They were now making ready the second cannon, but as the rammer stepped forward the deadly marksman in the tree reached him with his bullet, and, falling beside his gun, he lay quite still. Once more the thousand voices of the warriors joined in a terrible cry of wrath and menace, but the young forester reloaded calmly, and the sponger, smitten down, fell beside his comrade.
Long Jim and the shiftless one, who lay side by side, gazed at the tree in silent admiration. They knew the ability of their comrade as a sharpshooter, but never before had he been so deadly at such long range.
"They'll hev to draw them cannon back," whispered Shif'less Sol, "or he'll pick off every one o' the white men that manage 'em."
"Then I hope they won't draw 'em back," said Long Jim.
But Alloway and the chiefs saw the necessity of taking the gun beyond rifle range, and they withdrew them quickly, although not quickly enough to keep another of the white men from receiving a painful wound. The savages discharged a volley from their rifles and muskets, and flights of arrows were sent into the thickets, but arrows and bullets alike fell short. Many of the arrows merely reached the river, and Paul found a curious pleasure in watching these feathered messengers fly through the air, and then shoot downward into the water, leaving bubbles to tell for a moment where they had gone.
"They're goin' to shoot them cannon ag'in," said Shif'less Sol, "but they're puttin' a different kind o' ammunition in 'em."