The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippi

"They must have guessed our course," whispered Henry, "or perhaps they have heard the splash of an oar now and then. Stop, boys, and let's see if we can hear their canoes."

Their boat lay under the thick, spreading boughs of some oaks. Paul could see the branches and twigs showing overhead through the white fog like lace work, but everything else was invisible twenty feet away. All heard, however, now and then the faint splash, splash of paddles, perhaps a hundred yards distant. Henry tried to tell from the sounds how many war canoes might be in the party, and he hazarded a wild guess of twenty. As he listened, the splash grew a little louder. Obviously the canoes were keeping on the right course. Shif'less Sol wet his finger and held it up. When he took it down he whispered in some alarm to Henry:

"The wind has begun to blow, an' it's shore to rise. It'll blow the fog away, an' we'll lay in plain sight o' all o' them savages."

Henry's instinct for generalship rose at once and he saw a plan.

"We must keep on for midstream," he said. "We know what direction that is, and, out in open water, we'd have one advantage even over their numbers. Theirs are only light canoes, while ours is a big strong boat that will shelter us from any bullet. Pull away, boys! I'll help Sol keep up the watch."

The boat once more resumed its progress toward the main current. The wind, as Sol had predicted, rapidly grew stronger. The deep curtain of fog began to thin and lighten. Suddenly a canoe appeared through it and then a second.

A bullet, fired from the first canoe, whizzed dangerously near the head of Shif'less Sol. He replied instantly, but the light was so uncertain and tricky that he missed the savage at whom he had aimed. The heavy bullet instead ploughed through the side and bottom of the bark canoe, which rapidly filled and sank, leaving its occupants struggling in the water. A bullet had come from the second canoe, also, but it flew wild, and then the whitish fog, thick and impenetrable, caught by a contrary current of wind, closed in again.

"Did you hit anything, Sol?" asked Henry.

"Only a canoe, but I busted it all up, an' they're swimmin' from tree to tree until they get to the bank."

"Now, boys, pull with all your might!" exclaimed Henry, "and, Paul, you steer us clear of trees, brush, logs, and snags. They know where we are and we must get out into the stream, where there's a chance for our escape."

Then ensued a flight and running combat in a tricky fog that lifted and closed down over and over again. Henry put down his oars presently and took up his rifle, but Jim Hart and Tom Ross continued to pull, and Paul kept a steady hand on the tiller.

Paul's task was the most trying of all. Highly sensitive and imaginative, this battle rolling along in alternate dusky light and white obscurity, was to him uncanny and unreal. He saw pink dots of rifle fire in the fog, he caught glimpses now and then of brown, savage faces or the prow of a canoe, and then the heavy fog would come down like a blanket again, shutting out everything.

Paul's hand trembled. Every nerve in him was jumping, but he resolutely steered the boat while the others rowed and fought. Once he barely grazed a snag and he shivered, knowing how one of these terrible obstructions could rip the bottom out of a boat. But soon the trees and bushes almost disappeared. They were coming into open water. The fog, too, ceased to close down, and the wind began to blow steadily out of the north. Banks and streamers of white vapor rolled away toward the south. In a few minutes it would all be gone. Out of the mists behind them rose the shapes of war canoes not far away, and the fierce triumphant yell that swept far over the river sent a chill to Paul's very marrow. Once again rose the rifle fire, and it was now a rapid and steady crackle, but the bullets thudded in vain on the thick sides of "The Galleon."

All except Paul now pulled desperately for the middle of the stream, while he, bending as low as he could, still kept a steady hand on the tiller. The triumphant shout behind them rose again, and the great stream gave it back in a weird echo. Paul suddenly uttered a gasp of despair. Directly in front of them, not thirty yards away, was a large war canoe, crowded with a dozen savages while behind them came the horde.

"What is it, Paul?" asked Henry.

"A big canoe in front of us full of warriors. We're cut off! No, we're not! I have it! Bend low! bend low, you fellows, and pull with all the might that's in you!"

Paul had an inspiration, and his blood was leaping. The rifle shots still rattled behind them, but, as usual, the bullets buried themselves in the wood with a sigh, doing no harm. Four pairs of powerful arms and four powerful shoulders bent suddenly to their task with new strength and vigor. Paul's words had been electric, thrilling, and every one felt their impulse instantly. The prow of the heavy boat cut swiftly through the water, and Paul bent still lower to escape the rifle-shots. No need for him to choose his course now! The boat was already sent upon its errand.

A wild shout of alarm rose from the war canoe, and the next instant the prow of "The Galleon" struck it squarely in the middle. There were more shouts of alarm or pain, a crunching, ripping and breaking of wood, and then "The Galleon," after its momentary check, went on. The war canoe had been cut in two, and its late occupants were swimming for their lives. Not in vain had Paul read in an old Roman history of the battles between the fleets when galley cut down galley.

Henry, although he did not look up, knew at once what had happened, and he could not restrain admiration and praise.

"Good for you, Paul!" he cried. "You took us right over the war canoe and that's what's likely to save us!"

Henry was right. The other canoes, appalled by the disaster, and busy, too, in picking up the derelicts, hung back. Henry and Shif'less Sol took advantage of the opportunity, and sent bullet after bullet among them, aiming more particularly at the light bark canoes. Three filled and began to sink and their occupants had to be rescued. The utmost confusion and consternation reigned in the savage fleet, and the distance between it and "The Galleon" widened rapidly as the latter bore in a diagonal course across the Mississippi.

"They've had all they want," said Henry, as he laid down his rifle and took up the oars again, "but it's this big heavy boat that's saved us. She's been a regular floating fort."

"We took our gall-yun just in time," said Shif'less Sol jubilantly, "an' she is shore the greatest warship that ever floated on these waters. Oh, she's a fine boat, a beautiful boat, the reg'lar King o' the seas!"

"Queen, you mean," said Paul, who felt the reaction.

"No, King it is," replied Sol stoutly. "A boat that carries travelers may be a she, but shorely one that fights like this is a he."

The fog was gone, save for occasional wisps of white mist, but the day had not yet come, and the night was by no means light. When they looked back again they could not see any of the Indian canoes. Apparently they had retreated into the flooded forest. Henry and Sol held a consultation.

"It's hard to pull up stream," said Henry, "and we'd exhaust ourselves doing it. Besides, if the Indians chose to renew the pursuit, that would cut us off from our own purpose. We must drop down the river toward the Spanish camp."

"You're always right, Henry," said the shiftless one with conviction. "The Spaniards o' course, know nothin' about our fight, ez they wuz much too fur off to hear the shots, an', ez we go down that way, the savages likely will think that we belong to the party, which is too strong for them to attack. This must be some band that Braxton Wyatt don't know nothin' about. Maybe it's a gang o' southern Indians that's come away up here in canoes."

The boat swung close to the western shore, which was overhung throughout by heavy forests, and then dropped silently down until it came within two miles of the Spanish camp. There, in a particularly dark cove, they tied up to a tree, and drew mighty breaths of relief. Both Henry and Paul felt an intense gladness. Despite all the dangers and hardships through which they had gone, they were but boys.

CHAPTER VI

BATTLE AND STORM

It was yet dark, in fact much darker than it had been just after the fog lifted, and the dawn was a full three hours away. Although the flooded area of forest on the western shore was much less than on the eastern, it was sufficient to furnish ample concealment for the boat, and, when they tied up amid dense foliage, they could not see the main stream behind them.

Jim Hart laid down his oars, stood up, and carefully cracked his joints.

"I am tired," he said. "Never wuz I so tired afore in my life."

"But, Jim," said Shif'less Sol, "Think what a pow'ful lively naval battle you hev been through. Ef you ever git a wife—which I doubt, 'cause you ain't beautiful, Jim—you kin tell her how once you rowed right over a great Injun warship. Mebbe, Jim, she'll believe all them fancy details you'll stick on to it."

"I know I ain't beautiful," said Long Jim thoughtfully, "an' I don't know ez I want to be, but ef any woman wuz to marry me she'd most likely believe whatever I told her, bein' ez I hev a truthful countenance, but ez fur you, Sol, anybody kin tell by lookin' at you that ef you wuz to ketch in this river a little cat-fish six inches long you'd tell them that didn't know that it wuz a whale."

"Seems to me," said Tom Ross, "that I wuz waked up kinder suddint a few hours ago. I wuz in the middle uv a most bee-yu-ti-ful nap, and I know right whar I stopped it. I'm goin' back an' pick up that nap at the exact place whar I left off."

Without another word he pulled his blanket over him and stretched himself on a seat. In a minute or two he was sound asleep. Tom Ross was a veteran campaigner. He not only knew what to do, but he could and would do it.

"Paul, you and Jim follow him," said Henry, "I'll keep what's left of the watch with Sol."

Jim was treading the easy path of slumber in five minutes, but it took Paul at least ten to pass through the gates. Henry and Sol sat in the boat, silent but watchful.

"We're between two fires," whispered Henry at last. "I don't think that war party will give up just yet, and maybe we'd better stick here in the woods for a while, on the chance that they think we belong to the Spanish force and have rejoined it."

"We've got to stay in hidin' fur a spell, that's shore," said Shif'less Sol. "We might stick here all day. We kin overtake the Spaniards any time, cause we have only one road to foller an' that's the river."

Henry nodded and they settled back to the watch and silence. Their three comrades stretched on seats, lockers, or the boat's bottom, slept soundly, and they could hear their regular breathing. But they heard nothing else save the light lapping of the water against the tree trunks.

Dawn came, golden and beautiful. Tom Ross opened his eyes.

"Anything happened?" he asked.

"No," replied Henry, "and we are not going to move yet. Sleep on."

Tom closed his eyes again, and in a minute was back in the pleasant land of slumber. The other two did not awake and Henry and Sol still did not stir. From the leafy arbor in which "The Galleon" was moored, they were intently watching the surface of the river. An hour passed and the sun rose higher and higher, flooding the surface of the great stream with golden beams.

"Do you see anything, Henry?" asked Sol.

"Yes, I think there's a canoe among the trees on the opposite shore."

"I reckoned that I saw it, too, but I wuzn't certain. Must be a scout canoe."

"Do you see anything to the southward, Sol?"

"I reckoned that I saw somethin' thar, too, an' I took it fur smoke."

"The Spanish camp, of course."

"O' course."

"And I think the Indians are spying upon it. They are quite sure now that we were a part of the Spanish force."

"They think they know it, an' they'll hang 'roun' until to-night, when they're more'n likely to shoot into the Spanish camp."

"Which won't hurt us, Sol."

"Not a leetle bit. We kin sing all the time, 'dog eat dog, go it one, go it tother.'"

"Instead of singing," said Henry smiling, "we can put in most of the time sleeping."

"Both please me," said Shif'less Sol, rubbing his hands gleefully.

Everything befell as they thought it would. Other canoes appeared at the edge of the wood on the far shore, but on every occasion further down the river. There was no doubt in the minds of the watchful observers aboard "The Galleon" that they were spying upon the Spanish camp and meditated an attack at night. It was equally certain that the Spaniards knew nothing of the Indians' presence. All the five were now awake and they rejoiced at the prospect.

"I see an easy day comin' to me," said Shif'less Sol luxuriously. "'Tain't often that a lazy man like me kin hev sech a good time an' I'm goin' to make the most o' it."

"I think," said Henry, "that while the Indians are busy with the Spaniards we'd better try to fix up that sail. We don't need a tent and we do need a sail. Some time or other, when we get in a pinch, the sail might do the pulling, leaving the rowers free to use their rifles."

"Jest ez I might hev expected," said Sol in a tone of disgust. "All ready for rest, fixed fur it most bee-yu-ti-ful-ly, an' told instead that I must go to work. This world shorely ain't kind to a good man."

Once more the staunch ship, "The Galleon," proved herself to be a treasure house. They found in the lockers plenty of rope and stout cord, and they cut in the forest a stout young sapling which they made of the right length, peeled off the bark, and adjusted in rude fashion, as a mast. They also made a boom and then rigged a single sail, somewhat after the fashion of the cat-boat of the present day.

This would have been an impossible task to them, had not "The Galleon" been so well provided with axes, saws, hammers, other valuable tools, and cord and nails. The mast could be taken down in an emergency, but they were all of the opinion that the sail would draw, and draw well. It might not always be easy to control it, but "The Galleon" was built in Spanish fashion, heavy, deep, and square, and it would take a great deal to make her capsize.

While the others worked one watched, and the boats of the Indians were seen again at the edge of the far forest. The last time they saw them they were so far down that they were almost opposite the point where the Spaniards lay, which indicated two things to them, first the certainty that Alvarez had not moved, and second that "The Galleon" and her crew were absolutely safe for the time being, where they lay.

"I suppose that Alvarez is in no hurry and decided to take a day of rest," said Henry.

They finished their own labors late in the afternoon and contemplated the mast and sail with pride.

"Now that it's done, I'm glad that it hez been done," said Shif'less Sol. "It'll save me a lot o' work hereafter. It would be jest like you fellers to make me git callous spots all over the inside o' my hands, when the hide on Jim Hart's is already so thick it wouldn't hurt him to do all his rowin' an' mine, too."

"I jest love to see you work, Sol," said Long Jim Hart. "I can't enjoy my rest real good, 'less at the same time I'm layin' on my back watchin' you heavin' away."

Nevertheless, all took a long rest though maintaining a vigilant watch, and, with pleasure, they saw a dark night come on. When the twilight was completely gone they steered once more for the main stream, not using their sail yet, because of the boughs and bushes.

"We've got to keep in the edge of the forest," whispered Henry, and in that manner they crept cautiously southward. After a while they stopped suddenly and all exclaimed together. They distinctly heard the sound of rifle shots straight toward the south and perhaps a mile away.

"The savages hev attacked," said Shif'less Sol in a whisper. "Go it, Spaniard, go it, Injun, one may lick and tother may lick, but whether one may lick tother or tother lick which. I don't care."

They pulled a little nearer to the last line of trees in the water and there off to the south they saw the little pinkish dots that marked the rifle and musket fire. It was too far away for them to see anything else, but they heard distinctly the intermittent crackle of the shots.

"Neither will win," said Henry. "The Spaniards are too strong to be defeated, but they won't venture the unknown terrors of the river at night. The Indians, who are in their canoes, will draw off when they find they are not doing much harm."

"Wish we could put up that sail," said Shif'less Sol, who was still at the oars. "I'm shore gittin' a callous lump in the pa'm o' my hand."

"It wouldn't do, Sol," said Henry. "We're going to run past a battle, and we mean to lie as low as possible."

Paul again steered, Henry sat, rifle in hand, and the others rowed. They took a diagonal course across the stream once more, but this time toward the eastern shore. They advanced slowly, hugging the dark. Fortunately there was no moon and the dusk came close up to the boat.

"That's a right noisy fight," said Shif'less Sol, looking toward the south, where pink and red spots of flame still appeared in the dark and the rattling fire of rifle and musket grew louder.

"More noise than anything else," said Tom Ross, "but it keeps 'em pow'ful busy an' that's a good thing fur us."

They were now near the flooded forest on the eastern shore, and they moved slowly along in its shadow, still watching the distant battle. It lightened a little, the rim of a moon came out, and they saw toward the western bank the dark silhouettes of canoes moving back and forth on the water. Flashes came from the canoes and returning flashes came from the bank.

"Go it, Spaniard, go it, Injun, go it, one, go it, tother," muttered Shif'less Sol again.

"The Galleon" slowly passed by in the darkness. The pink and red dots went out and the sound of the rifle fire died behind hem. They could neither see nor hear anything more of the battle, and all were of the opinion that it would soon cease by a sort of mutual agreement of the contestants.

Paul once more turned the head of the boat toward the middle of the stream, and she swung gaily into the current, where her speed soon increased greatly.

"We can fix up our mast and hoist our sail now," said Henry. "Since there is nobody to look, it won't hurt us to make speed for a while."

It required some time and exertion to put the mast in place and then they unfurled the sail. They were rather clumsy about it from lack of experience, but the tent cloth filled with the north wind, and "The Galleon" leaped forward in the water, her broad nose parting the stream swiftly, while the youthful hearts of Henry and Paul swelled with exultation.

Shif'less Sol drew in his oars and bestowed upon the sail a look of deep approval.

"That's the most glorious sight that hez met the eyes o' a tired man in a year," he said. "Blow, Mr. Wind, blow! an' let me rest."

The others also rested, but Sol and Henry put all their attention upon the boom and sail. They did not intend to be wrecked by ignorance or any sudden flaw in the wind. The breeze, however, was steady and strong, and "The Galleon" continued to move gallantly before it.

They sailed for three or four hours and during the latter part of the time they coasted along the western bank. There they came to the mouth of a small river, thickly lined on both shores with gigantic trees.

"I think we'd better take down our sail and run up this," said Henry. "We can go back some distance and hide close to the bank. The Spaniards of course will not dream of coming up it, and we can stay here until they go by."

"A safe and pleasant haven as long as it is needed," said Paul.

They took down the sail and pulled at least a mile up the little river. There they tied close to the bank, and, happy over their success, sought sleep, all except the watch, the night passing without disturbance.

The day came, again unclouded and beautiful, and the five regarded it, the boat, and themselves with a great deal of satisfaction.

"I'm thinkin' that our treasure ship, the gall-yun, ought to hev the most credit," said Shif'less Sol. "She brought us past all them warrin' people in great style. Without her we'd hev a hard time, follerin' the Spaniards to New Or-lee-yuns."

After breakfast they remained awhile in the boat, content to lie still and await events. Everywhere around them was the deep forest, oak, hickory, chestnut, maple, elm, and all the other noble trees that flourish in the great valley. Just above them was a low point in the hank of the little river and they could see that it was trodden by many feet.

"Game comes down to drink thar," said Shif'less Sol.

"Lie still and let's see," said Paul. The boat was almost hidden in the thick foliage that overhung the river, and nobody on it stirred. Two deer presently walked gingerly to the water, drank daintily, and then walked as gingerly away. Soon a black bear followed them and shambled to the water's edge. He looked up and down the stream, but he saw nothing and the wind blowing from him toward the boat brought no dread odor to his sensitive nostrils. He drank, wrinkled his face in a comical manner, scratched himself with his left paw, and then shambled away. Shif'less Sol laughed.

"I'd hev to be hard pushed afore I shot that feller," he said. "Ain't the black bear a comic chap when he tries to be. I declare I hev a real feller feelin' fur him. I couldn't ever feel that way toward a panther. They always look mean an' they always are mean, but I could hobnob right along with a jolly, fat black bear."

"Yes," said Paul, looking dreamily far into the future. "It's a pity they have to go."

"Hev to go, what do you mean, Paul?" interrupted Long Jim Hart, as he cracked a joint or two.

"Why," replied Paul, "all this country will be settled up some day, and how can bears and panthers and buffaloes roam wild on farms?"

Long Jim looked at him with eyes slowly widening in wonder.

"Paul," he exclaimed, "you do say the beatinest things sometimes! Now what do you mean by sayin' that all this country will be settled up? Why, thar ain't enough people in the world fur that, an' thar won't never be."

"Yes there will be, Jim," said Paul decisively, "although it will not occur in your time."

"Not if I lived to be a hundred years old, Paul, or mebbe a hundred an' twenty, 'cause I'm a pow'ful healthy man?"

"No, not if you lived to be a hundred and twenty."

Long Jim heaved a deep sigh of relief—he had the true soul of the woodsman.

"That's mighty relievin' an' soothin'," he said. "Think uv havin' to walk every day through cleared ground! Think uv lookin' every day fur a bee-yu-ti-ful sky only to see cabin-smoke! Think uv drawin' your sights on what you fust take to be a fine buffalo, an' then find out is only your neighbor's old cow! Think uv your goin' off to a river to trap beaver, an' findin' nothin' thar but a saw-mill! Think uv your havin' to meet mornin' an' evenin' all kinds uv people that you don't care nothin' about! Think uv your goin' out on a great huntin' expedition only to find all them noble trees cut down a thousan' miles every way, an' nothin' wanderin' around thar but old lame horses an' gruntin' pigs! I'm plum' thankful that I'm livin' at the time I do, when thar's lots uv countries you don't know nothin' about, an' lots uv fun guessin' what they are, an' mostly guessin' wrong. An' I'm glad too that I didn't live in them old days that Sol tells about, when people had to build walls around theirselves in towns, an' wuz afraid to go out in the woods an' hunt bear an' buffalo like men!"

Jim Hart, after this speech, so long for him, stopped for want of breath, and Shif'less Sol, regarding him with a look of deep sympathy, held out a brown and sinewy hand.

"Jim Hart," he said, "shake. I'll be proud to hev you do it. You ain't no beauty, Jim, an' somehow you an' me are kinder disputatious now an' then, but you are lettin' flow at this minute a solid stream o' wisdom, a fountain, ez Paul would say in his highfalutin' way, at which everybody ought to drink."

Jim Hart also reached out a brown and sinewy hand and the two met in a powerful and friendly clasp.