The Cryptogram: A Story of Northwest Canada

  CHAPTER XXII.

  HOT WORK.

  I was standing so near that the three daring redskins all but fell uponme. As I dodged quickly back, one let fly a tomahawk. I felt it graze myhead, and the next instant I had smashed the skull of the howling wretchwith the butt end of my musket. Already three more were over thestockade, and the five fell upon our men with desperate fury. Theyelling and whooping, the cries of the wounded, made an infernal din. Acomrade on my left was shot in the mouth, and dropped writhing to theground; a half-breed at my very side clapped a hand to his arm and spunround.

  But by this time the scrimmage had been seen at a distance, and therewas a rally to the spot. Two savages were clubbed to death, and a thirdfell by Captain Rudstone's musket. I shot a fourth through the chest,but in spite of the wound, he made at me, and I had to settle him with ablow above the ear.

  For one Indian that was slain, however, two fresh ones scrambled intothe inclosure. There were as agile as cats, and as daring as panthers.With bullet and tomahawk they assailed us, and we were soon hard-pressedall along the line. There was fierce fighting on the north as well, andso no help could be spared from that quarter. Indeed, I began to fearthat the fort would be taken by sheer numbers; and even while I wasengaged hand to hand with the painted fiends, I was meditating whatsteps to take to save Flora.

  But when the situation was most critical, several things befell to turnthe tide. At great risk a couple of plucky fellows loaded thehowitzer--it had been discharged once--and thrusting the muzzle out ofone of the boles provided for that purpose, they fired it point-blankinto the mass of savages who were coming on to the assault. At the samemoment a swivel gun roared a few yards to the left, and the twotremendous reports were followed by shrill yells of agony andconsternation.

  This appeared to check the rush from without, and of a sudden the top ofthe stockade showed empty against the skyline. Seeing this, we tookheart, and attacked the savages who were inside more furiously thanever. Just then we were joined by half a dozen men from thewatch-tower and by four others led by Griffith Hawke. The redskinswavered, fell back, and bolted in panic for their lives. Ten of them weshot down or clubbed, and as many succeeded in scrambling over thestockade. It had been a close shave, but the fort was saved for thepresent.

  "Blaze away, or they'll be in again!" cried the factor. "Give them asteady volley!"

  With ringing cheers we sprang to the loopholes, and fired as fast as wecould load and empty. A vigorous fusillade was returned at first, but itsoon slackened and straggled, and the whooping of the savages ceasedentirely.

  It was the same on the north side of the fort. The Indians had notretreated, but they were repulsed and disheartened, and were in no moodfor further sacrifice. They lay hidden behind drifted snow and stumps,taking wary shots whenever they fancied they saw an opportunity.

  Now we had time to breathe--time to take a welcome spell of rest afterour hard struggle. We were all parched and powder grimed, and some of uswere bandaging slight wounds. And the victory had cost us dear. Threesorely-hurt men had been carried off to the hospital, and among thedozen or more slain savages who lay in ghastly attitudes on thetrampled, blood-soaked snow were four of our plucky defenders, who wouldnever lift musket again. It was a hideous, revolting sight, and theraging storm, the murky gray of the night, lent an added horror to it.

  The semi-lull continued, and little attention was paid to the stragglingfire of the Indians, though sharp eyes were watching from the tower.Griffith Hawke came up to where I was leaning, breathing hard, on thebarrel of my musket.

  "Thank God you are all right, my boy!" he said hoarsely. "I neverexpected those devils would get over the stockade. It was Heaven's mercythat enabled us to drive them off; but we have lost heavily."

  "Severely, indeed," I assented. "And so have the Indians. I doubt ifthey will try that game again. And what was the result at the northside, sir? I believe you had desperate fighting there at the same time."

  "Not so bad as here," the factor replied; "but pretty nearly. TheIndians broke in, but our fellows were getting the best of it when Ileft to help you. Menzies was in charge, and--ah! here he comes now."

  The big Scotchman was loading his musket as he approached. He limpedbadly--a gunstock had struck him on the thigh--and he had a flesh woundin his left arm. He anxiously inquired how many we had lost, and when Itold him, he shook his head gravely.

  "I have three dead over yonder," he replied, "and twice as manydisabled. The garrison is reduced by nearly a third, and the savages arefighting recklessly! I greatly fear, Hawke, that if they rush thestockade again--"

  "We'll beat them off twice, thrice, four times if need be," the factorinterrupted. "At the worst, we are likely to have a long siege of it."

  He spoke cheerfully and confidently, but none the less I saw a haggard,strained look in his face, as he glanced toward the flickering light inFlora's window.

  By this time the firing was taking a brisker turn, and the three of usseparated, Hawke and Menzies striding across to the north side of theinclosure. I went to my old place, and there I remained for a tryinghalf-hour.

  Trying is a poor word for the sort of warfare the Indians carried onduring that interval. They were scattered about thickly to north andeast of the fort, and within close range, but each warrior was cunninglyconcealed behind a stump or a snow hillock.

  How they could see so well is a mystery, but certain it is that theybrought their muskets to bear on every loophole of the stockade and thetower. The storm was raging bitterly, but in their furred garments theirhide moccasins and leggings, they defied the exposure.

  At the first we lost a man killed, and had three wounded. Then we grewmore careful, and reconnoitered from what little crevices we could findbefore we ventured on a shot. Those who had no loopholes kept loadingspare muskets and passing them to us, taking our own as soon as wefired. I had several narrow escapes, but by watching for the spurts offlame and smoke and for the limbs that now and then showed darklyagainst the snow, I killed or disabled half a dozen of the enemy.Baptiste was on my right, and just beyond him was Captain Rudstone.

  There was one diversion during the time I speak of, and that from thewest side of the fort, where a great clamor of firing and whoopingsuddenly broke out. I did not dare to leave my post--I was virtually incharge of the east stockade--but Captain Rudstone led half a dozen mento the disturbed quarter. The scrimmage was quickly over, and when thecaptain returned I got a report from him.

  "It's all right," he said. "The devils rushed us, but we drove them backby volleys from the loopholes, killing half a score and losing oneourselves. The ground dips down to the fort there, and we had a cleansweep. They won't molest us on that side again--it was a half-heartedattack, anyway."

  "I wish they would drop the whole thing," I replied bitterly.

  Captain Rudstone shrugged his shoulders.

  "You would be a fool to expect it, Carew," he said. "I am not a bird ofill-omen, but, by Heaven! the redskins are determined to hang on tillthey take the fort."

  "They'll have a wait," said I.

  "That's as maybe," the captain rejoined. "If there were only the Indiansto reckon with! But Northwest men are among them, cleverly disguised;and I doubt not Cuthbert Mackenzie is one of them."

  "I am sure of it," I asserted.

  "He is after revenge--and Miss Hatherton," the captain went on. "And tomy mind, it is a toss up which will make the girl the happier--Mackenzieor Hawke."

  I turned on him fiercely, and I could have struck him with pleasure; heseemed to take a malicious delight in probing my heart wound.

  "Is this a time to talk of such things?" I cried. "I wish to hear noneof it, Captain Rudstone. Miss Hatherton is nothing to me!"

  The captain laughed--a low, sneering laugh--and just then an Indianbullet sang between us.

  "A close shave!" he muttered, as he strode off to his loophole.

  I turned to mine, and it pa
rtly relieved my feelings to get a shot at afeathered scalp-lock, that was bobbing behind a tuft of bushes twentyfeet away. I aimed true, and with a convulsive leap a warrior fellsprawling in the open.

  My success stirred the savages up a little, drawing a chorus of vengefulwhoops, and a straggling shower of lead that pelted the stockade likehail.

  Then the fire ceased almost entirely, ami after waiting and watching forfive minutes, I concluded to leave my post temporarily and have a lookabout the fort.