CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

  DEFENCE OF THE RANCH OF ROARING BULL.

  Every light and every spark of fire had been extinguished in the ranchof Roaring Bull when its defenders issued from its doorway. They werearmed to the teeth, and glided across the yard to the fence or stockadethat enclosed the buildings, leaving the door slightly open so as to beready for speedy retreat.

  It had been arranged that, as there was a large open field without bushor tree in the rear of the ranch, they should leave that side undefendedat first.

  "They'll never come into the open as long as they can crawl up throughthe bush," Jackson had said, while making his final dispositions."They're a'most sure to come up in front thinkin' we're all a-bed. Now,mind--don't stand still, boys, but walk along as ye fire, to give 'emthe notion there's more of us. An' don't fire at nothin'. They'd thinkwe was in a funk. An' when you hear me whistle get into the house asquick as a cotton-tail rabbit an' as sly as a snake."

  After the moon went down, everything in and around the ranch was assilent as the grave, save now and then the stamp of a hoof on the floorof a shed, where a number of horses stood saddled and bridled ready tomount at a moment's notice; for Jackson had made up his mind, if it cameto the worst, to mount and make a bold dash with all his householdthrough the midst of his foes, trusting to taking them by surprise andto his knowledge of the country for success.

  For a long time, probably two hours, the three men stood at their postsmotionless and silent; still there was no sign, either by sight orsound, of an enemy. The outline of the dark woods was barely visibleagainst the black sky in front of each solitary watcher, and no movingthing could be distinguished in the open field behind either by Crux orDarvall, to each of whom the field was visible. Jackson guarded thefront.

  To Dick, unaccustomed as he was to such warfare, the situation was verytrying, and might have told on his nerves severely if he had not been aman of iron mould; as it was, he had no nerves to speak of! But he wasa man of lively imagination. More than fifty times within those twohours did he see a black form moving in the darkness that lay betweenhim and the wood, and more than fifty times was his Winchester rifleraised to his shoulder; but as often did the caution "don't fire atnothin'" rise to his memory.

  The stockade was of peculiar construction, because its owner and makerwas eccentric, and a mechanical genius. Not only were the pickets ofwhich it was composed very strong and planted with just space between topermit of firing, but there was a planking of strong boards, waist high,all round the bottom inside, which afforded some protection to defendersby concealing them when they stooped and changed position.

  While matters were in this state outside, Mary Jackson and Buttercupwere standing at an upper window just opposite the front gate, thelatter with a huge bell-mouthed blunderbuss of the last century, loadedwith buckshot in her hands. Mary stood beside her sable domestic readyto direct her not as to how, but where and when, to use the ancientweapon.

  "You must be _very_ careful, Buttercup," said Mary in a low voice,"_not_ to fire till I tell you, and to point only _where_ I tell you,else you'll shoot father. And _do_ keep your finger off the trigger!By the way, have you cocked it?"

  "O missy, I forgit dat," answered the damsel with a self-condemned look,as she corrected the error. "But don' you fear, Missy Mary. I's use'to dis yar blunn'erbus. Last time I fire 'im was at a raven. Down hoedde raven, blow'd to atims, an' down hoed me too--cause de drefful t'ingkicks like a Texas mule. But bress you, I don' mind dat. I's used toit!"

  Buttercup gave a little sniff of grave scorn with her flat nose, asthough to intimate that the ordinary ills of life were beneath _her_notice.

  We have said that all fires had been extinguished, but this is notstrictly correct, for in the room where the two maidens watched therewas an iron stove so enclosed that the fire inside did not show, and asit was fed with charcoal there were neither flames nor sparks to betrayits presence. On this there stood a large cast-iron pot full of water,the bubbling of which was the only sound that broke the profoundstillness of the night, while the watchers scarcely breathed, sointently did they listen.

  At last the patient and self-restraining Dick saw a dark object movingtowards his side of the stockade, which he felt was much too real to beclassed with the creatures of his imagination which had previously givenhim so much trouble. Without a moment's hesitation the rifle flew tohis shoulder, and the prolonged silence was broken by the sharp report,while an involuntary half-suppressed cry proved that he had not missedhis mark. The dark object hastily retreated. A neighbouring cliffechoed the sounds, and two shots from his comrades told the sailor thatthey also were on the alert.

  Instantly the night was rendered hideous by a series of wild yells andwhoops, while, for a moment, the darkness gave place to a glare of lightas a hundred rifles vomited their deadly contents, and the sound of manyrushing feet was heard upon the open sward in front of the ranch.

  The three male defenders had ducked their heads below the protectingbreast-work when the volley was fired, and then, discarding all idea offurther care, they skipped along their respective lines, yelling andfiring the repeaters so rapidly, that, to any one ignorant of the truestate of things, it must have seemed as if the place were defended by alegion of demons. To add to the hullabaloo Buttercup's blunderbusspoured forth its contents upon a group of red warriors who were rushingtowards the front gate, with such a cannon-like sound and such wonderfuleffect, that the rush was turned into a sudden and limping retreat. Theeffect indeed, was more severe even than Buttercup had intended, for astray buckshot had actually taken a direction which had been feared, andgrazed her master's left arm! Happily the wound was very slight, and,to do the poor damsel justice, she could not see that her master wasjumping from one place to another like a caged lion. Like the sameanimal, however, he gave her to understand what she had done, byshouting in a thunderous bass roar that fully justified his sobriquet--

  "Mind your eye, Buttercup! Not so low next time!"

  The immediate result of this vigorous defence was to make the Indiansdraw off and retire to the woods--presumably for consultation. Byprevious arrangement the negro girl issued from the house with threefresh repeaters in her arms, ran round to the combatants with them andreturned with their almost empty rifles. These she and Mary proceededto reload in the hall, and then returned to their post at the upperfront window.

  The morning was by this time pretty well advanced, and Jackson felt alittle uncertain as to what he should now do. It was still rather dark;but in a very short time, he knew, dawn would spread over the east, whenit would, of course, be quite impossible to defend the walls of thelittle fort without revealing the small number of its defenders. On theother hand, if they should retire at once the enemy might find alodgement within, among the outbuildings, before there was light enoughto prevent them by picking off the leaders; in which case the assailantswould be able to apply fire to the wooden wails of the house withoutmuch risk.

  "If they manage to pile up enough o' brush to clap a light to," hegrumbled to himself in an undertone, "it's all up wi' us."

  The thought had barely passed through his brain, when a leadenmessenger, intended to pass through it, carried his cap off his head,and the fire that had discharged it almost blinded him. Bigfoot, thechief of the savages, had wriggled himself, snake-fashion, up to thestockade unseen, and while Roaring Bull was meditating what was best tobe done, he had nearly succeeded in rendering him unable to do anythingat all.

  The shot was the signal for another onslaught. Once more the woods rangwith fiendish yells and rattling volleys. Bigfoot, with the agility andstrength of a gorilla, leaped up and over the stockade and sprung downinto Jackson's arms, while Darvall and Crux resumed their almostubiquitous process of defence, and Buttercup's weapon again thunderedforth its defiance.

  This time the fight was more protracted. Bigfoot's career was indeedstopped for the time being, for Jackson not only crushed the life almostout
of him by an unloving embrace, but dealt him a prize-fighter's blowwhich effectually stretched him on the ground. Not a moment too soon,however, for the white man had barely got rid of the red one, whenanother savage managed to scale the wall. A blow from the butt ofJackson's rifle dropped him, and then the victor fired so rapidly, andwith such effect, that a second time the Reds were repulsed.

  Jackson did not again indulge in meditation, but blew a shrill blast ona dog-whistle--a preconcerted signal--on hearing which his two comradesmade for the house door at full speed.

  Only one other of the Indians, besides the two already mentioned, hadsucceeded in getting over the stockade. This man was creeping up to theopen door of the house, and, tomahawk in hand, had almost reached itwhen Dick Darvall came tearing round the corner.

  "Hallo! Crux," cried Dick, "that you?"

  The fact that he received no reply was sufficient for Dick, who was tooclose to do more than drive the point of his rifle against the chest ofthe Indian, who went down as if he had been shot, while Dick sprang inand held open the door. A word from Jackson and Crux as they ranforward sufficed. They passed in and the massive door was shut andbarred, while an instant later at least half-a-dozen savages ran upagainst it and began to thunder on it with their rifle-butts andtomahawks.

  "To your windows!" shouted Jackson, as he sprang up the woodenstair-case, three steps at a time. "Fresh rifles here, Mary!"

  "Yes, father," came in a silvery and most unwarlike voice from the hallbelow.

  Another moment and three shots rang from the three sides of the house,and of the three Indians who were at the moment in the act of clamberingover the stockade, one fell inside and two out. Happily, daylight soonbegan to make objects distinctly visible, and the Indians were wellaware that it would now be almost certain death to any one who shouldattempt to climb over.

  It is well known that, as a rule, savages do not throw away their livesrecklessly. The moment it became evident that darkness would no longerserve them, those who were in the open retired to the woods, and pottedat the windows of the ranch, but, as the openings from which thebesieged fired were mere loop-holes made for the purpose of defence,they had little hope of hitting them at long range except by chance.Those of the besiegers who happened to be near the stockade took shelterbehind the breast-work, and awaited further orders from their chief--ignorant of the fact that he had already fallen.

  From the loop-holes of the room which Jackson had selected to defend,the shed with the saddled horses was visible, so that no one could reachit without coming under the fire of his deadly weapon. There was also awindow in this room opening upon the back of the house and commandingthe field which we have before mentioned as being undefended while thebattle was waged outside. By casting a glance now and then through thiswindow he could see any foe who might show himself in that direction.The only part of the fort that seemed exposed to great danger now wasthe front door, where the half-dozen savages, with a few others who hadjoined them, were still battering away at the impregnable door.

  Dick, who held the garret above, could not see the door, of course, norcould he by any manoeuvre manage to bring his rifle to bear on it fromhis loop-hole, and he dared not leave his post lest more Indians shouldmanage to scale the front stockade.

  Buttercup, in the room below, had indeed a better chance at her window,but she was too inexpert in warfare to point the blunderbuss straightdown and fire with effect, especially knowing, as she did, that thesight of her arm in the act would be the signal for a prompt fusillade.But the girl was not apparently much concerned about that, or anythingelse. The truth is that she possessed in an eminent and enviable degreethe spirit of entire trust in a leader. She was under orders, andawaited the word of command with perfect equanimity! She even smiledslightly--if such a mouth could be said to do anything slightly--whenMary left her to take fresh rifles to the defenders overhead.

  At last the command came from the upper regions, in tones that causedthe very savages to pause a moment and look at each other in surprise.They did not pause long, however!

  "Now, Buttercup," thundered Roaring Bull, "give it 'em--hot!"

  At the word the girl calmly laid aside her weapon, lifted the big ironpot with familiar and businesslike facility, and emptied it over thewindow.

  The result is more easily imagined than described. A yell that musthave been heard miles off was the prelude to a stampede of the mostlively nature. It was intensified, if possible, by the further actionof the negress, who, seizing the blunderbuss, pointed it at the flyingcrowd, and, shutting both eyes, fired! Not a buckshot took effect onthe savages, for Buttercup, if we may say so, aimed too low, but theeffect was more stupendous than if the aim had been good, for the heavycharge drove up an indescribable amount of peppery dust and small stonesinto the rear of the flying foe, causing another yell which was not anecho but a magnified reverberation of the first. Thus Buttercup had thesatisfaction of utterly routing her foes without killing a single man!

  Daylight had fairly set in by that time, and the few savages who had notsucceeded in vaulting the stockade had concealed themselves behind thevarious outhouses.

  The proprietor of the ranch began now to have some hope of keeping theIndians at bay until the troops should succour him. He even left hispost and called his friends to a council of war, when a wild cheer washeard in the woods. It was followed by the sound of firing. No soonerwas this heard than the savages concealed outside of the breastwork roseas one man and ran for the woods.

  "It's the troops!" exclaimed Dick hopefully.

  "Troopers never cheer like that," returned Jackson with an anxious look."It's more like my poor cow-boys, and, if so, they will have no chancewi' such a crowd o' Reds. We must ride to help them, an' you'll have toride with us, Mary. We daren't leave you behind, lass, wi' themvarmints skulkin' around."

  "I'm ready, father," said Mary with a decided look, though it wasevident, from the pallor of her cheek, that she was ill at ease.

  "Now, look here, Dick," said Jackson, quickly, "you will go down andopen the front gate. I'll go with 'ee wi' my repeater to keep an eye onthe hidden reptiles, so that if one of them shows so much as the tip ofhis ugly nose he'll have cause to remember it. You will go to myloophole, Crux, an keep your eyes open all round--specially on thehorses. When the gate is open I'll shout, and you'll run down to theshed wi' the women.--You understand?" Crux nodded.

  Acting on this plan Dick ran to the gate; Jackson followed, rifle inhand, and, having reached the middle of the fort, he faced round; onlyjust in time to see a gun barrel raised from behind a shed. Before hecould raise his own weapon a shot was heard and the gun-barreldisappeared, while the Indian who raised it fell wounded on the ground.

  "Well done, Crux!" he exclaimed, at the same moment firing his own rifleat a head which was peeping round a corner. The head vanished instantlyand Darvall rejoined him, having thrown the gate wide open.

  "Come round wi' me an' drive the reptiles out," cried Jackson. At thesame time he uttered a roar that a bull might have envied, and they bothrushed round to the back of the outhouses where three Indians were foundskulking.

  At the sudden and unexpected onslaught, they fired an ineffectual volleyand fled wildly through the now open gate, followed by several shotsfrom both pursuers, whose aim, however, was no better than their own hadbeen.

  Meanwhile Crux and the girls, having reached the shed according toorders, mounted their respective steeds and awaited their comrades.They had not long to wait. Jackson and Dick came round the corner ofthe shed at full speed, and, without a word, leaped simultaneously intotheir saddles.

  "Keep close to me, girls,--close up!" was all that Jackson said as hedashed spurs into his horse, and, sweeping across the yard and throughthe gate, made straight for that part of the woods where yells, shouts,and firing told that a battle was raging furiously.