CHAPTER X.

  THE BATTLE.

  In the meanwhile, as is stated a little while ago, Captain Watt hadassembled all the members of the colony in front of the town.

  The number of combatants amounted to sixty-two, including the females.

  European ladies may think it singular that we count the females amongthe combatants: in truth, in the old world the days of Bradamante andJoan d'Arc have happily passed away for ever, and the fair sex, owing tothe constant progress of civilization, is no longer reduced to thenecessity of fighting side by side with men.

  In North America, at the period of which we write, and even at thepresent day, on the prairies and the clearings, it is not so; when thewar-yell of the Indians suddenly echoes on the ears of the pioneers, thewomen are constrained to give up the labour of their sex, to take arifle in their delicate hands, and fight boldly in defence of thecommunity.

  We could, if necessary, cite several of these heroines with soft eyesand angelic countenances who, on occasion, have valiantly done theirduty as soldiers and fought like perfect demons against the Indians.

  Mrs. Watt was anything rather than a heroine, but she was the daughterand the wife of a soldier; she was born and brought up on the Indianborders; she had already smelt powder several times and seen blood flow,but, before all, she was a mother. As her children had to be defended,all her feminine timidity had disappeared and made way for a cold andenergetic resolution.

  Her example electrified all the other women of the colony, and all hadarmed, resolved to fight by the side of their husbands and fathers.

  We repeat here that, what with men and women, the Captain had sixty-twocombatants around him.

  He tried to dissuade his wife from taking part in the fight, but thegentle creature whom he had seen hitherto so timid and obedient, plainlyrefused to give up her project, and the Captain was compelled to let herdo as she pleased.

  He therefore made his arrangements for defence. Twenty-four men wereplaced in the entrenchments under the orders of Bothrel. The Captainhimself took the command of a second party of twenty-four hunters,intended to act anywhere and everywhere. The females, under the ordersof Mrs. Watt, were left in charge of the tower, in which the childrenand the invalids were shut up, and the arrival of the Indians was thenawaited.

  It was about one in the morning when the Canadian hunter and the PawneeChief left the colony; by about half-past two all was ready for thedefence.

  The Captain made a last round of the entrenchment in order to ensurehimself that all was in order, then, after ordering all the fires to beextinguished, he secretly left the colony by a concealed door in thepalisades, of whose existence only himself and Sergeant Bothrel werecognizant.

  A plank was placed across the ditch, and the Captain crossed, onlyfollowed by Bothrel and a Kentuckian of the name of Bob, a daring andbroad-shouldered fellow, to whom we have already had occasion to refer.

  The plank was carefully hidden so as to serve for their return, and thethree men glided through the darkness like phantoms.

  When they had gone about one hundred yards from the colony, the Captainhalted.

  "Gentlemen," he then said in a voice so faint that they were obliged tostoop down to hear him; "I have chosen you because the expedition we areabout to attempt is dangerous, and I wanted resolute men with me."

  "What is to be done?" Bothrel asked.

  "The night is so dark that those accursed Pagans could if they likedreach the very edge of the ditch, and it would be impossible for us tonotice them; I have, therefore, resolved to set fire to the piles ofplanks and roots. A man must know how to make sacrifices when needed;these fires which will burn a long while will spread a brilliant light,enabling us to see our enemies for a long distance and fire at them withcertainty."

  "The idea is excellent," Bothrel answered.

  "Yes," the Captain continued, "still, we must not hide from ourselvesthat it is extremely perilous; it is plain that Indian scouts arealready scattered over the prairies, perhaps very close to us, and whentwo or three fires have been lighted, if we see them, they will not failto see us too. Each of us will take the necessary objects, and we willtry by the rapidity of our movements to foil the tricks of these demons;remember that we shall act separately, and each of us will have four orfive fires to light, so we cannot count on one another. To work!"

  The combustibles and inflammable matters were shared between the threemen and they separated.

  Five minutes later a spark glistened, then a second, then a third; atthe end of a quarter of an hour ten tires were lighted.

  Weak at first, they seemed to hesitate for a while, but gradually theflame increased, gained consistency, and soon the whole plain was lit upby the blood-red glare of these immense torches.

  The Captain and his comrades had been more fortunate than theyanticipated in their expedition, for they had succeeded in lighting thepiles of wood scattered over the valley, without attracting theattention of the Indians; and they hurried back to the entrenchments atfull speed. It was high time, for suddenly a terrible war-yell burstforth behind them, and a large band of Indian warriors appeared on theskirt of the forest, galloping at full speed, and brandishing theirweapons like a legend of demons.

  But they came up too late to catch the Whites, who had crossed the ditchand were sheltered from their missiles.

  A discharge of musketry greeted the arrival of the Indians, several fellfrom their horses, and the others turned and fled with greatprecipitation.

  The fight had commenced, but the Captain cared little about that; thanksto his lucky expedient, a surprise was impossible, and they could see aswell as in the daylight.

  There was a moment's respite, by which the Americans profited to reloadtheir rifles.

  The colonists had felt anxious on seeing the immense fires lit up oneafter the other on the prairie; they believed in an Indian device, butwere soon disabused, by the Captain's return, and congratulatedthemselves, on the contrary, upon this happy expedient, which enabledthem to fire almost with certainty.

  The Pawnees, however, had not given up their project of attack; in allprobability they had only retired in order to deliberate.

  The Captain, with his shoulder leant against the palisade, wasattentively examining the deserted plain, when he fancied he perceivedan unusual motion in a rather large field of Indian corn, about tworifle shots from the colony.

  "Look out!" he said, "the enemy is approaching."

  Every one put his finger on his trigger. All at once a great noise washeard, and the furthest pile of wood fell in, emitting myriads ofsparks.

  "By heaven!" the Captain shouted, "There is some Indian devilry behindthat, for it is impossible for that enormous pile to be consumed."

  At the same instant another fell in, followed immediately by a third,and then by a fourth.

  There could no longer be a doubt as to the cause of these successivefalls. The Indians, whose movements were neutralized by the light thesemonster beacons shed, had taken the very simple method of extinguishingthem, which they were enabled to do in perfect safety, for they were outof rifle range.

  No sooner was the wood down than it was scattered in every direction,and easily put out.

  This expedient enabled the Indians to get very near to the palisadesunnoticed.

  Still, all the piles were not overthrown, and those that remained werenear enough to the fort to be defended by its fire.

  For all that, the Pawnees attempted to put them out. But the firingthen recommenced, and the bullets fell in a hailstorm on the besiegers,who, after holding out for some minutes, were at last compelled to taketo flight, for we cannot give the name of a retreat to the precipitationwith which they withdrew.

  The Americans began laughing and hooting at the fugitives.

  "I think," Bothrel said facetiously, "that those fine fellows find oursoup too hot, and regret having put their fingers in it."

  "In truth," the Captain remarked, "they do not appear inclined to returnthis t
ime."

  He was mistaken; for, at the same instant, the Indians came back at agallop.

  Nothing could check them, and, in spite of the fusillade, to which theydisdained to reply, they reached the very brink of the ditch.

  It is true, that once there, they turned back, and retired as rapidly asthey had come, though not without leaving on the way a great number oftheir comrades, whom the American bullets pitilessly laid low.

  But the plan of the Pawnees had been successful, and the Whites soonperceived, to their great disappointment, that they had been too hastyin congratulating themselves on their facile victory.

  Each Pawnee horseman carried on his croup a warrior, who, on reachingthe ditch, dismounted, and profiting by the disorder and smoke, whichprevented their being seen, sheltered themselves behind the trunks oftrees and elevations of the soil so cleverly, that when the Americansleaned over the palisade to discover the results of the evening'scharge, they were in their turn greeted by a discharge of bullets andlong barbed arrows, which stretched fifteen on the ground.

  There was a movement of blind terror among the Whites after this attackmade by invisible enemies.

  Fifteen men at one round was a fearful loss for the colonists; thecombat was assuming serious proportions, which threatened to degenerateinto a defeat; for the Indians had never before displayed so much energyand obstinacy in an attack.

  No hesitation was possible; the daring force must be dislodged at anycost from the post where they had so rashly ambushed themselves.

  The Captain formed his resolve.

  Collecting some twenty resolute men, while the others guarded thepalisades, he had the drawbridge lowered, and rushed out.

  The enemies then met face to face.

  The medley became terrible; the White men and Redskins intertwined likeserpents, drunk with rage and blinded by hatred, only thought of killingeach other.

  All at once an immense glare illumined the scene of carnage, and criesof terror rose from the colony.

  The Captain turned his head, and uttered a shriek of despair at thehorrible sight that met his terror-stricken gaze.

  The tower and principal buildings were on fire; in the light of theflames the Indians could be seen bounding like demons in pursuit of thedefenders of the colony, who, grouped here and there, were attempting aresistance which had now become impossible.

  This is what had occurred:--

  While Black-deer, Blue-fox, and the other principal Pawnee Chiefsattempted an attack on the front of the colony, Tranquil, followed byQuoniam, and fifty warriors, on whom he could depend, had got into thebuffalo-hide canoes, silently descended the river, and landed in thecolony itself, before the alarm was given, for the very simple reasonthat the Americans did not at all apprehend an attack from the side ofthe Missouri.

  Still, we must do the Captain the justice of saying that he had not leftthis side undefended; sentries had been posted there; but,unfortunately, in the disorder occasioned by the Indians' last charge,the sentries, thinking nothing was to be feared from the river, desertedtheir post to go whither they imagined the danger greatest, and helptheir comrades in repulsing the Indians.

  This unpardonable fault ruined the defenders of the colony.

  Tranquil disembarked his party without firing a shot.

  The Pawnees, when they had once entered the fort, threw incendiarytorches on the wooden buildings, and, uttering their war-yell, rushed onthe Americans, whom they placed between two fires.

  Tranquil, Quoniam, and some warriors who did not leave them, hurried upto the town.

  Mrs. Watt, although taken by surprise, prepared, however, to defend thepost confided to her.

  The Canadian approached with hands upraised in sign of peace.

  "Surrender, in Heaven's name!" he cried, "or you are lost; the colony iscaptured!"

  "No!" she answered, boldly, "I will never surrender to a coward, whobetrays his brothers to take the part of the Pagans!"

  "You are unjust to me," the hunter answered, sadly-- "I have come tosave you."

  "I will not be saved by you!"

  "Unhappy woman! if not for your own sake, surrender on behalf of yourchildren. See, the tower is on fire!"

  The lady raised her eyes, uttered a thrilling shriek, and rushed wildlyinto the interior of the building.

  The other females, trusting in the hunter's words, attempted noresistance, but laid down their arms.

  Tranquil entrusted the guard of these poor women to Quoniam, with whomhe left a few warriors, and then hurried off to put a stop to thecarnage which was going on in all parts of the colony.

  Quoniam entered the tower when he found Mrs. Watt half stifled andholding her children pressed to her heart with extraordinary strength.The worthy Negro threw the young lady across his shoulder, carried herout, and collecting all the females and children, led them to the banksof the Missouri to get them out of range of the fire, and await the endof the fight, without exposing the prisoners to the fury of the victors.

  It was now no longer a combat but a butchery, rendered more atrociousstill by the barbarous refinements of the Indians, who attacked theirunhappy enemies with indescribable fury.

  The Captain, Bothrel, Bob, and some twenty Americans, the only colonistsstill alive, were collected in the centre of the esplanade defendingthemselves with the energy of despair against a cloud of Indians, andresolved to die sooner than fall into the hands of their ferociousenemies.

  Tranquil, however, succeeded, by repeated entreaties and braving athousand perils, in inducing them to lay down their arms and thus put anend to the carnage.

  All at once cries, groans, and entreaties were heard from the riverside.

  The hunter dashed off; agitated by a gloomy presentiment.

  Black-deer and his warriors followed him. When they reached the spotwhere Quoniam had collected the women, a fearful sight presented itselfto them.

  Mrs. Watt and three other females lay motionless on the ground in a poolof blood, Quoniam lay extended in front of them with two wounds, one onhis head, the other in his chest.

  It was impossible to obtain any information from the other females as towhat had occurred, for they were half mad with terror.

  The Captain's children had disappeared.

  End of Prologue.