With these feelings burning in his bosom, he made an effort to turn his face towards the top of the hill, that he might catch the first sight of the friendly band, and glut his eyes with the view of the anticipated speedy discomfiture and destruction of his enemies. In this effort he received unexpected aid from the old warrior, who, perceiving his intention, pulled him round with his own hands, telling him, with the grim complacency of one who desired a witness to his bravery, "Now, you hold still, you see,—you see Piankeshaw old Injun,—you see Piankeshaw kill man, take scalp, kill all Long-knife:—debbil great fighting-man, old Piankeshaw!" which self-admiring assurance, repeated for the third time, the warrior pronounced with extreme earnestness and emphasis.
It was now that Roland could distinctly perceive the nature of the ground on which his captors had formed their ambush. The hill along whose side the bison path went winding down to the river with an easy descent, was nearly bare of trees, its barren soil affording nourishment only for a coarse grass, enamelled with asters and other brilliant flowers, and for a few stunted cedar-bushes, scattered here and there; while, in many places, the naked rock, broken into ledges and gullies, the beds of occasional brooks, was seen gleaming gray and desolate in the sunshine. Its surface being thus broken, was unfit for the operations of cavalry; and the savages being posted, as Roland judged from the position of the old Piankeshaw, midway along the descent, where were but few trees of sufficient magnitude to serve as a cover to assailants, while they themselves were concealed behind rocks and bushes, there was little doubt they could inflict loss upon an advancing body of footmen of equal numbers, and perhaps repel them altogether. But, Roland, now impressed with the belief that the approaching horsemen, whose trampling grew heavier each moment, as if they were advancing at a full trot, composed the flower of his own band, had but little fear of the result of a contest. He did not doubt they would outnumber the savages, who, he thought, could not muster more than fifteen or sixteen guns; and coming from a Station, which he had been taught to believe was of no mean strength it was more than probable their numbers had been reinforced by a detachment from its garrison.
Such were his thoughts, such were his hopes, as the party drew yet nigher, the sound of their hoofs clattering at last on the ridge of the hill; but his disappointment may be imagined, when, as they burst at last on his sight, emerging from the woods above, the gallant party dwindled suddenly into a troop of young men, only eleven in number, who rattled along the path in greater haste than order, as if dreaming of anything in the world but the proximity of an enemy. The leader he recognised at a glance by his tall figure, as Tom Bruce the younger, whose feats of Regulation the previous day had produced a strong though indirect influence on his own fortunes; and the ten lusty youths who followed his heels, he doubted not, made up the limbs and body of that inquisitorial court which, under him as its head, had dispensed so liberal an allowance of border law to honest Ralph Stackpole. That they were now travelling on duty of a similar kind, he was strongly inclined to believe; but the appearance of their horses, covered with foam, as if they had ridden far and fast, their rifles held in readiness in both hands, as if in momentary expectation of being called on to use them, with an occasional gesture from their youthful leader, who seemed to encourage them to greater speed, convinced him they were bent upon more serious business, perhaps in pursuit of the Indians, with whose marauding visitation some accident had made them acquainted.
The smallness of the force, and its almost entire incompetence to yield him any relief, filled the soldier's breast with despair; but, hopeless as he was, he could not see the gallant young men rushing blindly among the savages, each of whose rifles was already selecting its victim, without making an effort to apprize them of their danger. Forgetting, therefore, his own situation, or generously disregarding it, he summoned all his strength, and, as they began to descend the hill, shouted aloud, "Beware the ambush!—Halt"—But before the words were all uttered, he was grasped by the throat with strangling violence, and the old warrior, whose left hand thus choked his utterance, drew his knife a second time, with the other, and seemed for an instant as if he would have plunged it into the soldier's bosom.
But the cry had not been made in vain, and although, from the distance, the words had not been distinguished by the young Kentuckians, enough was heard to convince them the enemy was nigh at hand. They came to an immediate halt, and Roland, whose throat was still held by the warrior and his bosom threatened by the vengeful knife, but whose eyes neither the anguish of suffocation nor the fear of instant death could draw from the little band, saw them leap from their horses, which were given in charge of one of the number, who immediately retired beyond the brow of the hill; while Tom Bruce, a worthy scion of a warlike stock, brandishing his rifle in one hand, and with the other pointing his nine remaining followers down the road, cried, in tones so manly that they came to Roland's ear,—"Now, boys, the women's down thar, and the red skins with them! Show fight, for the honour of Kentuck and the love of woman. Every man to his bush, and every bullet to its Injun! Bring the brutes out of their cover!"
This speech, short and homely as it was, was answered by a loud shout from the nine young men, who began to divide, with the intention of obeying its simple final instructions; when the Indians, seeing the design, unwilling to forego the advantage of the first open shot and perhaps hoping by a weak fire to mask their strength, and decoy the young Kentuckians into closer quarters, let fly a volley of six or seven guns from the bushes near to where Roland lay, but without doing much mischief, or even deceiving the young men, as was expected.
"Thar they go, the brutes!" roared Tom Bruce, adding as he sprang with his followers among the bushes, "show 'em your noses, and keep a good squint over your elbows."
"Long-knife big fool,—Piankeshaw eat him up!" cried, the old warrior, now releasing the soldier's throat from durance, but speaking with tones of ire and indignation: "shall see how great Injun fighting-man eat up white man!"
With these words, leaving Roland to endure his bonds, and solace himself as he might, he crept away into the long grass, and was soon entirely lost to sight.
The combat that now ensued was one so different in most of its characteristics from all that Roland had ever before witnessed, that he watched its progress, notwithstanding the tortures of his bonds and the fever of his mind, with an interest even apart from that which he necessarily felt in it, as one whose all of happiness or misery depended upon the issue. In all conflicts in which he had been engaged, the adverse ranks were arrayed face to face, looking upon each other as they fought; but here no man saw his enemy, both parties concealing themselves so effectually in the grass and among the rocks and shrubs, that there was nothing to indicate even their existence, save the occasional discharge of a rifle, and the wreath of white smoke curling up from it into the air. In the battles of regular soldiers, too, men fought in masses, the chief strength of either party arising from the support which individuals thus gave to one another, each deriving additional courage and confidence from the presence of his fellows. Here, on the contrary, it seemed the first object of each individual, whether American or Indian, to separate himself as far from his friends as possible, seeking his own enemies, trusting to his own resources, carrying on the war on his own foundation,—in short, like the enthusiastic Jerseyman, who, without belonging to either side, was found at the battle of Monmouth, peppering away from a fence, at whatever he fancied a foeman—"fighting on his own hook" entirely.