CHAPTER XIX.
IN WHICH PHIL CONDUCTS THE RAFT TO THE LANDING, AND MORGAN FIRES THE BIG GUN.
"Let him alone, Plunkett," said Morgan.
"He will throw his tomahawk at you," I added.
"I can shoot him," replied the coward, retreating backwards with more haste than dignity.
"If you do, I'll report you to Lieutenant Jackson," continued Morgan.
"I don't believe in leaving your work to be done over again," growled Plunkett. "What's to prevent this Indian from killing some of us, when he gets a chance?"
"We are not Indians, and we don't kill the wounded," replied Morgan. "Come along; we are fooling away our time."
We went up to Mr. Gracewood's house, and entered it. The Indians had been there before us. In the middle of the floor was a pile of goods, which they had intended to carry down to the boat. They had done no injury to the building, though they would doubtless have burned it if we had not disturbed them. The gun for which we had come was in the rear chamber, limbered up and ready for use. The recluse of the island had brought it as a weapon of defence. It could be discharged from any door or window; and, loaded with canister and fired into an invading horde of savages, it would produce fearful havoc among them.
I attached a rope to the carriage, and we rolled it out of the house. When I realized how heavy it was, my confidence in my ability to convey it to the main shore was a little shaken. However, it was down hill all the way to the point where we had landed, and we had no difficulty in moving it so far; but we had to return a second time for the ammunition.