CHAPTER XVI.

  THE YOUNG EXILES.

  Wahena, with his hands still tied behind him, was led by Fanny, whileEthan trundled the wheelbarrow, across the handles of which lay the twoguns, ready for use if occasion should require. The Indians had haltedon one of the little eminences of the prairie, and appeared to bewatching the departure of the fugitives from their once happy home.Lean Bear was evidently very fond of his little son, who was a boy ofbright promise, measured by the Indian standard. He had exhibited noconcern for the mother while she lay senseless upon the ground, but heseemed to be willing to make any sacrifice, even to the curbing of hisferocious nature, for Wahena's sake.

  The party of Indians on the knoll appeared to be impressed with themisfortune of their leader in the loss of his favorite son. Though thework of rapine and death was still going on in the settlement, they didnot heed it. The messenger had probably represented to Lean Bear thatWahena would certainly be killed if he attempted to molest the littleparty, and the chief had withdrawn far enough to remove all temptationon the part of Ethan to execute his threat.

  The wheelbarrow was heavily loaded, and it was hard work for theprairie boy to move it along over the soft soil. On a hill, just beforethe descent to the lake commenced, he paused to rest for a moment. Hewas in excellent spirits, and was proud of the success which had thusfar attended his stratagem. He was confident that he should reach theisland in safety, where, having the only boat on the lake in hispossession, he was satisfied that he should be able to defend himselfand his companion, especially with Wahena as a guaranty for the goodbehavior of the Indians.

  Ethan was entirely satisfied with himself, and he was about to resumethe march towards the lake, when his attention was attracted by a noisein the direction opposite to that in which Lean Bear and his party hadretreated.

  "Creation hokee!" shouted Ethan.

  "What's the matter?" asked Fanny.

  "Don't you see the Injins comin' out of the woods?" replied he, as hegrasped the rifle, and raised it to his shoulder.

  "Ho, ho, ho! He, he, he!" yelled the band of savages, as they rushedout of the covert of the trees, and ran towards the spot where Ethanstood.

  "We are lost!" gasped Fanny, almost overcome by this new peril.

  "No, we ain't lost, Fanny. You keep a stiff upper lip. Lay right downon the ground, behind the wheelbarrer, and don't let the varmints seeyou. If they kim hyer, use that ere pistil."

  One of the new enemies was considerably in advance of the others, as ifanxious to drink the first blood of the victims before him. Suddenly hecame to a halt, raised his rifle, and fired.

  "Creation hokee!" exclaimed Ethan, as the ball whistled frightfullynear his head.

  "Hadn't we better run?" asked Fanny, in trembling tones.

  "'Tain't no use to run; them redskins kin beat you all to piecesrunnin'," replied Ethan, as he retreated behind the wheelbarrow, andresting the rifle upon it, took careful aim at the savage who was inadvance of the others.

  He fired; the Indian fell, and lay still on the ground.

  "That's sunthin' towards it, anyhow," continued Ethan, encouraged bythe success of his first shot. "Ef I kin fetch down one more on 'em, itwill make the rest a leetle grain skeery."

  "The other Indians are coming too, Ethan," said Fanny.

  "Let 'em kim; if they do we are safe."

  The immediate followers of Lean Bear were rushing towards the spot withall their might. The swiftest runner of the party had far outstrippedhis companions, but it was evident to Ethan and Fanny that he wasmoving towards the other band of savages, rather than towards them. Hewas shouting in his own tongue words which were unintelligible to thewhite boy and girl. But if the words were not understood, their effectwas, for the hostile band presently halted, and awaited the arrival ofthe messenger.

  In the mean time Ethan placed Wahena in a position where he could beseen by all the savages, and with the revolver in his hand, stood inreadiness to make another demonstration at the life of the boy if itshould be necessary. It was not needed, for all these Indians belongedto the tribe of Lean Bear, whose command was law to them.

  "We are safe, Ethan," said Fanny.

  "So we are; but I've killed one Injin, and I reckon I could kill somemore."

  "Don't you feel sorry you killed him?" asked Fanny.

  "Not ef I knows myself, I don't. I'd like to kill the whole boodle on'em, after what they've did, consarn thar picters! I reckon we'd betterbe go'n along."

  "I think we had. It is really terrible to think of killing a man."

  "'Tain't no more terrible 'n killin' all them women 'n childern up tothe settlement," replied Ethan, as he raised the handles of the barrowand moved on. "I hope they'll send the sogers up here, and kill off allthe Injins this side o' sundown."

  "I hope it won't be necessary to do that," added Fanny.

  "It ought to be did. What's them Injins good for but to be shot? Ikinder wish they'd kim, so I could have fetched down some more on 'em,consarn 'em!"

  "It is lucky the party of Lean Bear was near enough to turn them back.We might have been killed before this time."

  "I dunno," replied Ethan, shaking his head.

  "You have done nobly, Ethan; but Wahena has saved us so far."

  "I know that; I ketched him for jest what he has did for us."

  The rest of the way to the lake was down a gentle declivity, and thewheelbarrow moved more easily than before. In a short time they reachedtheir destination, on the shore of the beautiful sheet of water atwhich was moored a boat. It was not such a craft as the Greyhound, inwhich Fanny had been accustomed to sail; it was a bateau, orflat-bottomed boat, with very sharp slopes under the bow and stern. Ithad a keel and rudder, and was provided with a sail.

  The stores and utensils from the wheelbarrow were quickly transferredto the boat, and then the barrow itself was placed on board. The windnow blew tolerably fresh, and was fair for reaching the island; butEthan, with all his other accomplishments, knew no more about themanagement of a boat than of a ship, which he had never even seen. Thisboat had been built by Mr. Grant and a carpenter of the settlementduring the preceding winter, and Ethan had never sailed in it but once.

  "I don't know nothin' about this hyer thing," said Ethan. "I kinpaddle, but I reckon the sail would tip us over."

  "I can manage it," replied Fanny, confidently.

  "Kin ye? Did ye ever manage a boat with a sail?"

  "Yes, once," answered Fanny, and she thought with shame of the cruiseshe had made in the Greyhound. "Let us hoist the sail, and we can runover to the island in a few moments."

  Fanny, assisted by Ethan, hoisted the sail, and the bateau darted outof the little cove where she had been moored. Wahena, who had been asstoical in danger as his race, uttered an exclamation of alarm, perhapscalled forth by the novelty of the situation and of the peril. Ethanwas not entirely satisfied with the movements of the boat under sail,for she careened under the fresh breeze, till her gunwale was within aninch of the surface of the lake. Fanny took the helm, and, as she easedoff the sheet, which her previous experience had taught her to do insuch an emergency, the boat came up to an even keel, and the confidenceof the prairie boy was fully restored.

  "I don't want to be tipped over and drownded, arter we've got away fromthe Injins," said he, in apology for his timidity.

  "I'm sure I don't fear the water, after the terrible scenes we havepassed through," replied Fanny; "but there is no danger."

  "I dunno 's there is; but even the little Injin boy was skeered whenshe tipped so."

  "I ought to have unfastened this rope before we hoisted the sail,"added Fanny, pointing to the sheet.

  "I ain't afeerd, if you ain't, Fanny. I don't reckon we could 'apaddled her over to the island in seven year."

  "It would have taken a long time," said Fanny, glancing back at thesmoking buildings of the settlement.

  She was sad at heart when she thought of the murder and destructionwhich had occurred that morning. It was pl
easant on the lake, butneither Fanny nor Ethan was in a condition to enjoy the sail. Each wasthinking of friends in the settlement who had probably been slain bythe remorseless savages. Fanny steered the bateau in silence, till shereached the shore of the island, which was about two miles from thepoint where the party had embarked. It was very small, containing notmore than half an acre of land. A single tree grew on the highest part,and all of it was covered with grass, like the ground on the westernshores of the lake.

  A landing was effected under the lee of the land, and the cargo of thebateau removed to the shore. Wahena was taken to the middle of theisland, and fastened to the tree. From this point a view of all thesurrounding country could be obtained, and with ordinary care on thepart of the exiles, it would be impossible for an enemy to approachwithout their knowledge. The provisions and other articles weretransported on the wheelbarrow to the tree.

  "I should kinder like this, ef the folks hadn't all been killed off,"said Ethan, when the work was done, and he had seated himself atFanny's side, in the shade of the tree.

  "We were very fortunate to escape with our lives, Ethan, and I feelvery thankful," replied Fanny.

  "So do I; and ef you want to say your prayers now, we hain't gotnothin' else to do."

  "I have said them many times; God can hear us even when we do not speakaloud."

  "I s'pose so; well, I said mine, too; and that's a thing I don't dovery often."

  "I have no doubt they strengthened your arm, and made you feel brave."

  "I dunno but they did; but I feel as though a leetle grain o' breakfastwould strengthen my arm most jest now."

  Fanny was not very well pleased with the manner in which her rudecompanion spoke of serious things, and she improved the opportunity toembody the prayer of her heart in words. It was a fervent utterance,and Ethan seemed to join her in spirit. Both of them were grateful--notabstractly grateful, but grateful to God for his mercy in saving themfrom torture and death at the hands of the savages.

  They sat in silence for a moment after the prayer, and then Fannysuggested that they should prepare their breakfast. Ethan had broughtwith him a shovel and a sharp axe, and while Fanny was peeling thepotatoes and cutting the bacon, he dug out a kind of fireplace in theside of the hill. Some dead branches from the tree supplied them withdry fuel. Fried ham and fried potatoes were soon provided, and they satdown to their morning meal.

  "I should like this fust rate if we hadn't been druv away from hum jestas we was," said Ethan.

  "It would be very pleasant if we could forget the poor people who havebeen killed and mangled by the savages," replied Fanny, sadly.

  "I reyther like campin' out, and travellin' over the peraries, as wedid when we kim up hyer."

  "What is to become of us, after all, Ethan?"

  "I dunno; we must stop hyer, I s'pose."

  "We cannot remain here a great while."

  "Why not?"

  "Our provisions will not last many days."

  "We kin git more."

  "I don't think it is safe for us to go over to the settlement again."

  "We've got plenty o' powder'n shot, and thyers ducks and birds enough.And this lake's full of fish."

  "But we must leave some time. We could not stay here through thewinter."

  "We kin git off somewhar bime-by. I dunno what all this businessmeans--whether the Injins is killin' off everybody or not. Sunthin' 'llhappen one o' these days."

  It was impossible to plan for the future, for no one could tell what aday might bring forth. It was evident to the young exiles that the lakesettlement had been destroyed, and the greater portion of the peoplekilled, though they had no positive knowledge of the extent of thehorrible massacre. They did not know, what was really true, that theonslaught of the savages extended over hundreds of miles of territory,and that its victims were numbered by hundreds.

  When Ethan and Fanny had finished their breakfast, Wahena was unboundand permitted to eat all he wanted. His appetite did not seem to be atall impaired by his imprisonment, for he ate with a greediness whichthreatened to make serious inroads upon the scanty stock of provisions.While he was thus occupied, Fanny sang one of her Sunday school hymns,a sad and plaintive air, which not only moved Ethan to the depths ofhis heart, but visibly affected the little savage. Noticing the effect,she followed up the impression until she was surprised to see Wahenaoffer her his hand.