With Axe and Rifle

by William Henry Giles Kingston

I of course promised to use all due precaution. Dio, who had been attentively listening to what my father said, offered at once to go down to the bottom of the cliff and ascertain if any of our enemies were concealed in the brushwood which skirted the borders of the river.

“It still dark down dare, an’ dey not see me,” he observed. Though the rays of the rising sun glanced across the higher ground, the light had scarcely yet penetrated into the depths below; still it was doubtful if even Dio would escape the sharp eyes of the Indians, should any be concealed and lurking near. However, as it was important to ascertain whether any remained, my father did not prohibit him from carrying out his intention. Slipping over the breastwork, he disappeared among the trees in the ravine. We listened somewhat anxiously for any sound which might indicate that he had discovered a foe, or rather that a foe had discovered him, but as we looked down over the cliff, we could neither see nor hear anyone moving among the dense brushwood. In a few minutes, greatly to our relief, he returned, reporting that although he had found some marks of blood on the rocks where the Indians had fallen, that their bodies had been removed, proving that a number of the enemy must have collected there with the intention of climbing up the cliff, but had been deterred by the death of their companions. We had now to ascertain if the wood itself was clear of them.

As soon as we had taken a hasty breakfast, the Dominie and I set off; Martin Prentis and Dio accompanying us a short distance. It was intended that they should return if no enemies were discovered, so that the horses and cattle might be led down to the river without delay. As we made our way along, we examined every bush or rock which might conceal a foe, but minute as was our search we could, discover no one. We therefore sent back our companions, saying that we were sure there could be no risk in letting the thirsty animals go down to the river. As there were only two of us, we had now to proceed more cautiously. It thus took us a considerable time to cover but a small space of ground. As the sun was still low, many parts of the forest were shrouded in gloom, though here and there the light penetrated amid the trunks of the trees and enabled us to see far ahead. We kept ourselves concealed as we advanced, waiting occasionally to listen, but no sounds reached our ears. If we spoke, it was in low whispers, when we were close together.

“I am pretty well satisfied that no Indians are here,” observed Mr Tidey, “still we must be prudent, and run no unnecessary risk.”

Again we advanced, when suddenly he made a sign for me to stop. A rustling in the brushwood had reached his ear. I heard it also; it came from a spot some way ahead. Directly before us appeared a huge tree which had been partially uprooted, the trunk being at a sharp angle with the ground, while the boughs resting against those of its neighbours had prevented it from falling prostrate. We crept towards it, and finding that I could easily clamber up I did so, followed by Mr Tidey. We could thus see much further ahead than from the ground below. We had been there about a minute, the rustling sound still continuing.

“If the Indians are making their way through the wood, they cannot suppose that anyone is near, or they would be more cautious,” I observed.

“No Indians would make a noise like that,” whispered Mr Tidey; “see!”

Just then a wild boar broke through the brushwood, making its way among the tall grass, which he dug up with his tusks as if in search of roots. Presently he lay down to enjoy at his ease the repast he had thus procured. Instinctively I raised my rifle to my shoulder, when my companion made a sign.

“Don’t fire,” he said; “for should the Indians be in the neighbourhood, the sound will attract them towards us.”

“But the boar will escape, and we shall lose the pork, which will be so acceptable in camp,” I remarked.