CHAPTER XV
THE ARBITRAMENT
It was twilight when the little cavalcade from Tallwoods arrived atthe old river town of St. Genevieve. The peaceful inhabitants,most of them of the old French strain, looked out in amazement atthe jaded horses, the hard-faced men. By this time the originalhalf dozen riders had received reinforcements at differentplantations, so that a band of perhaps thirty armed men hadassembled. It had needed little more for the average listener thana word telling the news.
Brief inquiry at St. Genevieve informed them that the littlesteamer _Helen Bell_ had passed the town front that day soon afternoon. As she depended almost as much upon poles and lines for herup-stream progress as upon her steam, it was thought likely shewould tie up for the night at some point not more than ten ortwelve miles up-stream. Dunwody therefore determined to rideacross the river bed at its shortest distance, in the attempt tointercept the steamer, relying upon chance to secure small boatsnear at hand should they be necessary. His men by this time wereglad enough to dismount and take some sort of refreshment beforethis last stage of their journey.
It was dark when again they mounted, and the old river road, fullof wash-outs, stumps and roots, made going slow after the moon hadsunk. They had, however, no great distance to ride. At a pointten miles up the river they came upon a small huddle of fishermen'shuts. At one of these Dunwody knocked, and the frightened tenant,at first almost speechless at the sight of so many armed men,stammeringly informed him that the steamer had passed late thatevening and was, in his belief, tied up at a little towhead islandnot more than half a mile up-stream.
"What boats have you got here?" demanded Dunwody.
"No boat at all, Monsieur," rejoined the habitant.
"Maybe so four, five feesh boat, that's hall."
"Bring them out!" was the terse order.
They dismounted and, leaving their horses tied in the wood at theroadside, they went to the water's edge and presently embarked, ahalf dozen men in each of as many long river skiffs, of the typeused by the fishermen in carrying out their nets. Dunwody andClayton were in the foremost boat and each pulled an oar. Thelittle flotilla crawled up-stream slowly, hugging the bank andkeeping to the shadows. At last they were opposite a low,willow-covered island, and within a narrow channel where the water,confined between two banks, flowed with swifter current. Atlength, at Dunwody's quiet signal, all the boats paused, the crewsholding fast to the overhanging branches of the trees on the mainshore of the river.
"She's out there, just across yonder island," he whispered. "Ithink I can see her stack now. She must be tied up close. We canslip in on this side, make a landing and get aboard her before shecan stop us, if we're careful. Keep perfectly quiet. Follow us,boys. Come on, Clayton."
Silently they all cast loose and, each boat taking its own time,crossed the narrow channel, heading upstream, so as to make thelanding as nearly opposite the steamer as possible. They crawledout through the mud, and hauled up their boats to safe places alongshore. Then, each man looking to his own weapons, they cametogether under the cover of the willows. Dunwody again addressedthem.
"We must slip across there, seventy or eighty yards or so, and getunder the side of her before they know we're here," he said in lowtones. "Let no one fire a shot until I order it. If there's goingto be any shooting, be sure and let them begin it. When we getacross and leave cover, you'd better spread out a little. Keepdown low, and don't shoot unless you have to. Remember that. Comeon, now."
Inside the first fringe of the tangled and heavy willows, the mudlay deep in a long, half-drained pool of water which stood in themiddle of the willow-covered fiat. Into this, silently as theycould, they were obliged to plunge, wading across, sometimes waistdeep. In spite of the noise thus made there was no challenge, andthe little body of men, re-forming into an irregular line,presently arrived at the outer edge of the willow flat. Here, inthe light which hung above the river's surface, they could see thebulk of the steamer looming almost in their faces. She had herlanding planks out, and here and there along the narrow sand beacha smouldering ember or so showed where little fires had been made.As a matter of fact, more than half of the men of the boat hadpreferred to sleep on shore. Their muffled bodies, covered intheir blankets, might even now be seen here and there.
Although the sound of splashing and struggling in the water and mudhad not raised any of these sleepers, now all at once, as though bysome intuition, the whole bivouac sprang into life. The presenceof so many men could not be concealed.
"Who goes there?" came a military call from the boat. "Halt!Halt!" came from the line of sleepers suddenly awakened. In aninstant both parties were under arms.
It spoke well for the temper of the men with Dunwody, perhapsbetter for his serious counsel of them, that none of them made anyanswer. Silently, like so many shadows, they dropped down to theground.
"What was that, Kammerer?" cried a voice on the boat, calling downto some one on the shore.
"There are men here," was the answer. "Somebody's out there."
The night was now astir. Men half clothed, but fully armed, nowlined up along the beach, along the gunwale of the boat.Apparently there were some twenty or more of them in all.
"River pirates, likely," said the leader, who had now come down thegang-plank. "Fall in, men! Fall in!" His voice rang sharp andclear, like that of an officer.
"Line up along this beach, and get down low!" he commanded. "Holdyour fire! Hold!--What do you mean?--What are you doing?" Hisvoice rose into a scream.
Some one had fired a shot. At once the thicket was filled witharmed men. Some unknown member of the boat party, standing on thedeck behind the leader, had fired at a movement seen in the willowstwenty yards away. The aim was true. A groan was answer to theshot, even before the exclamation of the leader was made. YoungDesha fell back, shot through the body. His friends at first didnot know that any one had been hurt, but to lie still under fireill suited their wild temper. With a common impulse, and withoutorder, they emptied their guns into the mass of dark figures rangedalong the beach. The air was filled with shouts and curses. Theattacking party advanced. The narrow beach of sand and mud wascovered with a struggling mass of fighting men, of which neitherparty knew the nature of the other, and where the combatants couldscarce tell friend from foe.
"Get in, men!" cried Dunwody. "Go on! Take the boat!" He pressedon slowly, Judge Clayton at his side, and they two passed on up thegang-plank and into the boat itself. The leader of the boatforces, who had retired again to the steamer deck, faced them here.It was Dunwody himself who reached out, caught him in a fell gripand took away from him his rifle.
"Call your men off!" he cried. "Do you all want to get killed?"
"You pirates!" exclaimed the boat leader as soon as he could gethis breath. "What do you mean by firing on us here? We'repeaceable men and on our own business."
Dunwody stood supporting himself on his rifle, the stock of itunder his arm. "You call this peace!" he said. "We didn't intendto attack you. We're after a fugitive slave. I'm a United Statesmarshal. You've killed some of our men, and you fired, first.You've no right--Who are you?" he cried, suddenly pushing closer tohis prisoner in the half light. "I thought I knew your voice!You--Carlisle--What are you doing here?"
"Who are you?" he cried suddenly.]
"I'm about my business," rejoined that young officer curtly. "I'vebeen on your trail."
"Well, you've found me," said Dunwody grimly. "You may wish youhadn't."
The Northerner was not in the least subdued, and remained fearlessas before. "That's fine talk!" he said. "Why haven't we a righthere? We're on a navigable stream of the United States, in freewaters and in a free country, and we're free to do as we propose.We're under a free flag. What do you mean by firing into us?"
"You're not navigating the river at all," retorted Judge Clayton."You're tied up to Missouri soil. The real channel of the river isaway out yonder,
and you know it. We're inside our right inboarding you. We want to know who you are and what you are doinghere, an army officer, at the head of men armed in this way. We'regoing to search this boat. You've got property of mine on board,and we've the legal right to take it, and we're going to take it.You've killed some of our posse."
"You're pirates!" reiterated the northern, leader. "You're borderruffians, and you want to take this boat. You'll have to accountfor this."
"We are ready to account for it," said Dunwody. "Throw down yourarms, or we will kill every man of you. At once!"
He swung heavily back on his support as he spoke. Clayton caughthim by the arm. "You're hit, Dunwody!" he said in a low voice.
"Yes, a little," answered the other. "Don't say anything." Slowlyhe pushed on, directly up to Carlisle, who faced him fearless asever. "Tell your men to throw down their guns!" demanded Dunwodyonce more.
"Attention, company!" called out the young Northerner. "Stackarms!"
Silently, in the dark, even in the confusion, the beleaguered mengrouped together and leaned their rifles against this or thatsupport. Silently they ranged themselves, some on the deck, somestill upon the shore.
"Get lights now, at once!" commanded Dunwody. "We've got men hurthere. We'll have to do something at once. Jamieson!" he criedout. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm all right," answered Doctor Jamieson out of the darkness."Not a scratch. But there's a lot of our fellows down."
"Take care of them," said Dunwody. "We'll attend to the rest ofthis business after that."