“It means that we will be attacked by a tribe of Indians we’ve never met before, doesn’t it?” he demanded. “Because, I remember how the Shawanees, the Delawares, the Pottawottomies, the Senecas, the Miamis and the Hurons wear feathers in their hair when on the war-path, and these are different.”
“Yes, I think you are right, Sandy,” replied the other; “but an Indian must always be an Indian to us, if he is hostile. Do you notice how he has drawn this big star close down to the level of the horizon? That must be meant for the evening star up yonder; and the attack is planned for the time of its setting.”
“Which will come in another hour, Bob,” Sandy went on, feverishly. “Come, let us gather all our traps together, and get them aboard. I’ll look after that; and do you show our father what our kind friend has done for the Armstrongs for the third time.”
“Just what I was going to say to you, Sandy,” remarked Bob. “But remember, you must not look so excited, for many reasons. Why, right now, at this very minute, how do we know but that a number of savage Indians may be watching us, ready to send in a shower of arrows if they understand that we have guessed their game? Go about your work just as if we didn’t have the least suspicion of danger.”
“I will, Bob, you can depend on me; and what you say is good, hard sense, every word of it. I only wish I could keep myself held down, and cool, as you do. But it just seems as though something inside of me is always ready to jump at the very first sign of excitement. But there’s father looking this way now. Perhaps he has discovered that you are holding an arrow in your hands, and wonders where you got it. Please go over and beg of him to get aboard with mother and Kate right away. And hold on to your gun—hold on to your gun!”
This last piece of advice was wholly unnecessary, for Bob was determined to be in a condition to help defend the boat, should a sudden emergency arise before the time set for the attack.
While Sandy hurried to get the bunch of traps aboard, and return to the shore again, Bob sauntered over to where his father stood, and as quietly as possible explained what had happened.
“You have a long head, for a boy, son,” was what Mr. Armstrong remarked, as his hand fell affectionately on Bob’s shoulder; and such few words of praise always made the boy’s heart thrill with pride, for his greatest ambition was to deserve the commendation of those who were nearest and dearest to him. “We will try to let the men know, without showing any undue alarm. The sentry, too, must be informed, so that he may come in, and be ready to spring for the boat at the signal.”
This was soon accomplished. Then, at the given word, everybody leaped for the side of the boat. Instantly a scene of great excitement followed. A gun sounded, and a number of arrows came hurtling through the air, to strike the side of the cabin; while blood-curdling yells arose from a point near by, showing where the enemy had been crawling up all the while the voyagers rested under the belief that they were safely guarded.
Fortunately no one was severely hurt by these feathered shafts, fired so hastily, and without proper aim, though Mr. Bancroft, who had been on guard, and had further to run than any of the rest, received one through the fleshy part of his left arm as he climbed up the side of the boat.