With Axe and Rifle

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Keep watch then, Dio,” I said, “while I call Mr Tidey. You very likely are right; and if he thinks so, we must rouse up the rest of the camp. You must keep an eye to my post, which I ought not to quit except on an emergency.”

I ran to the opposite angle, where the Dominie had stationed himself, and told him that Dio had heard a movement below us.

“Just what I expected,” he answered; “go back to your post, and I will call up your father and uncle, and the rest of the men if necessary.”

I hurried back and had scarcely got half-way across the camp, though it was not many paces wide, when I saw Dio lift up his double-handed axe, and strike a blow with it at some object which was to me invisible. The Dominie, who had seen the occurrence, rushed back to the breastwork. We were just in time to catch sight of the feather-bedecked heads of two Indians rising above the bank, on which they were about to place their knees. The next moment Dio’s axe came down on one of them, while the Dominie struck a blow at the other which hurled him backwards.

“Give a look to the side of the gully, they will be attempting to get in there presently. The Indians expect to surprise us, but we will turn the tables on them,” whispered Mr Tidey.

I followed his directions, but on looking over the breastwork could see no one. My father and the other men were on their feet in a moment. Hitherto not a word had been spoken above a whisper, so that should any redskins be making their way up the gully they would not discover that we were on the alert, unless the sound of the falling bodies of those who had been killed had reached their ears. I was quickly joined by Uncle Denis and Dan, who had crept along so as not to show their heads over the fortifications. We had thrown a quantity of brushwood on the logs, which served more effectually to conceal us, with here and there an opening through which we could look. We each of us stationed ourselves at one of these loop-holes. Several minutes had passed, I listened, expecting that some sound would indicate the approach of the enemy, but I could neither hear nor see anything, and I began to fancy that the three Indians we had disposed of were alone engaged in the attempt to surprise us, or that their companions, if they had any, on their being killed, had taken to flight. What was going on, on the other side of the camp, I could not tell, but I felt very sure that my father was keeping a vigilant watch, and was prepared for whatever might occur. The camp was wrapped in as perfect silence as if we had all been asleep. Presently it was broken by the reports of rifles fired almost simultaneously, succeeded by a chorus of the most fearful yells and whoops I had ever heard, proceeding from the throats it seemed of a whole legion of savages. The horses and terrified cattle tugged at their tether ropes, two or three breaking loose and rushing up to the side I was on for protection, being the furthest from the dreaded sounds. Others stood trembling, too paralysed with fear to move. Had it not been for the breastwork, I suspect we should have lost many of them over the cliff. My first impulse was to hasten to the side attacked, but in the interval between the war-whoops, I heard my father’s voice shouting, “Stay all of you at your posts, we don’t know on which side we may next be attacked.”

Our men continued firing as rapidly as they could load, and as far as I could judge were successfully keeping the foe at bay; though showers of arrows kept falling into the camp, and we on the opposite side ran no slight risk of being wounded. I was looking through my loophole, when I saw some dark objects creeping out from amid the brushwood on the opposite side of the ravine. Under other circumstances I should have supposed that they were four-footed animals, wolves, or wild hogs, but as it was, I was very certain that they were men. They advanced but a few paces, then stopped as if surveying the side of the fort in front of them. Once more they began to creep on slowly. Hurrying up to Dan, I despatched him to tell our father what I had seen, and that within a minute probably we should be attacked.

“I see them,” whispered Uncle Denis, “we must hold them in check until assistance arrives.”

We were not long kept in a state of suspense. In a shorter space of time than I had expected another fearful shriek rent the air, and a host of dark forms sprang into view; at the same moment a flight of arrows came whistling above our heads. The brushwood, however, deceived them, and the missiles flew over us, though we feared that some of the cattle would be wounded.

“Now give it them!” cried my uncle, and we both fired, bringing down two of our assailants. For a moment they were checked, but once again moving on, they began scrambling up the side of the breastwork, and would in another instant have been over it, when we were joined by my father, Mr Tidey, and most of the men, who, having poured a volley full in the faces of the foe, seized their axes and soon cleared the breastwork. We quickly reloaded again, and fired on our retreating enemies, who sprang down the sides of the gully, to shelter themselves in the brushwood from which I had seen them emerge. Scarcely was this done, than a shout from Martin Prentis, who was in charge of the opposite side, summoned back the party to defend it. They reloaded as they went, and were just in time to fire a volley on the savages who had rallied and charged almost close up to the waggons; but meeting unexpectedly so determined a resistance, they once more scampered off, much faster than they had approached.