Fortunately, the little party escaped injury by the second volley; but Levi lifted his daughter from the ground, and bore her, shielded by his body, to the frontier fort.
The Indians kept near the fugitives, but did not attempt to make a capture. They seemed bent on the success of some stratagem, which was seen by the whites at the eleventh hour. The fort was already invested by a powerful force of savages fresh from the victory at Detroit, and certain signals told the settlers’ pursuers of well-laid plans. But the bravery of the fort’s defenders had defeated the stratagem, as the reader has seen; but not without the loss of valuable men.
“Stop, chief! In the name of Heaven, listen to that.”
The speaker was Card Belt, and it was the volley fired by the stump-sheltered savages at the opening of Strong’s gates, that called forth his words.
“Indians attack fort,” said the Wyandot, in his native tongue. “White people get to gates, and when they open, Indians shoot.”
“But a real battle is raging. Hark! I hear the yells of the Indians. Come! we’ll go and help the boys!”
But the chief slowly shook his head.
“No use go there,” he said. “We can’t help pale-faces,” and standing in the shadows of several giant trees, the couple listened to the sound of battle.
The trapper, while he listened, acknowledged the strength of Silver Hand’s counsel. He believed that Fort Strong was invested, and knew that, for the present, they could render no assistance to its inmates. In the future, they might be able to help them.
At last the couple heard the yells of the beaten savages, and exchanged looks of satisfaction.