“Dod rot it, Ned!” replied the latter; “don’t be so hurrified ’bout it. We’ll git theer in good time, take this chile’s word for it. Theer’s been plenty o’ licker in the emigrant wagons, I guess. Them Massissippy planters don’t offen go travellin’ ’thout a good stock o’ corn. An’ as for the Injuns, they ain’t a-goin’ to trouble theerselves ’bout weemen as long ’s the licker lasts. Don’t you be uneezy; we’ll git up time enuf to purtect the gurl, an’ chestise the skunks has ev captered her; you see if we don’t.”
“But why go creeping this way? Once upon the cliff, we must declare ourselves. We can’t get down among them, as you say; and since it must all be done with our rifles, the first shot will discover us.”
“So it will; diskiver us to a sartinty. But theer’s jest the pint. That fust shot must be deelivered by all o’ us at the same instinck o’ time. Unless we make a latter o’ them, as the French trappers call it, they’d be off in the shakin’ o’ a goat’s tail, prehaps takin’ thar prisners along wi’ ’em. An’ whar ’ud we be to foller ’em? Thurfor, we must fix things so’st’ every one may take sight on a different Injun at the same time; an’ then, afore they kin git clar out o’ the gully, we’ll be loaded for a second shot. I guess that’ll make ’em think o’ somethin’ else than toatin’ off thar captives. Keep yur patience, young fellur! Trust to ole ’Lije Orton, when he sez yur gurl air still safe an’ soun’.”
The anxious lover, despite his anxiety, could not help feeling confidence in the words thus whispered. More than once had he seen ’Lije Orton acting under circumstances of a like trying nature, and as often coming out triumphant. With an effort he restrained his impatience, and imitated the cautious approach of his comrade.
They were soon sufficiently near the edge of the cliff to hear a murmur of voices rising up out of the valley. As the ears of all were well attuned to such sounds, they knew them to be the voices of Indians. And these could be no other than Yellow Chief, and his band of marauders.
A halt was made; and a hurried council held, about the best mode of making attack.
“There must be ne’er a noise among ye,” whispered ’Lije, “not the speakin’ o’ a word, till we’ve got one fire at ’em. Then churge yur rifles agen, quick’s ever you kin. Two sets o’ shots oughter thin ’em, so as they won’t mind ’beout thar captives, nor any thin’ else, ’ceptin’ to streak it—that air, sech as be left o’ ’em.”
This counsel was delivered in a whisper, and in the same way passed along the line.
“Only one half o’ ye fire at a time,” continued ’Lije. “You fellurs on the left shoot first. Let the tothers resarve for the second volley. ’Twon’t do to waste two bullets on the same redskin. Leave Yellow Chief to me. I hev got a ole score to settle wi’ that Injun.”
With these precautions, communicated from left to right, the trappers once more advanced—no longer as skirmishers, but in line, and as near to one another as the inequality of the ground would permit.