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CHAPTER XX.

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the days are long during the season of the year of which we are writing, it being scarcely dark at the hour of eight o'clock.

although at the time the little band of fugitives entered the cavern the sun was low in the west, and something like twilight pervaded the romantic scene, yet a full hour of light remained before night would settle on the forest and river.

the evening that was approaching was partly moonlight, and the sky was without any vapor, excepting a few clouds in the east, so that it would not be entirely dark, but in the woods the gloom promised to be all that could be desired.

no doubt the indians had been quick to detect the vulnerable point, and before long some of them would try to steal up behind the pile of rocks which gave command of the fugitives.

for that reason mr. brainerd stood with cocked rifle, and with his eye on the point where such approach must be made, while habakkuk and gimp were watching with scarcely less intentness, knowing as they did that the attainment of the station by a single seneca would render the position of the fugitives "untenable," as the expression goes; that is to say, that same single warrior would be able to load and fire his rifle in absolute safety to himself, while he picked off every man and woman in the hollowed-out portion of the rocks.

mr. brainerd impressed this fact on the other two men, and, at his suggestion, they helped guard the point.

"it won't do for all of us to fire simultaneously," he said, "for then nothing could prevent the indians charging across, and before we knew it, the whole place would be swarming with them."

"how will we know which is to fire?" asked habakkuk.

"i'll take the first, gravity the second, and you the third; they are not likely to make a rush, though, if they did, they would be certain to succeed after losing one or two of their number."

"won't they take that view any way?" asked the new englander, who felt anything but easy in mind.

"i don't apprehend there will be a combined attempt until after dark. all indians are cowards, and the certainty that the first one or two in such a rush are sure to be picked off is likely to keep the whole party back, and compel them to try some other plan."

"what will that be?"

"i think they will steal up as near as it is safe, and then, after reconnoitering for a time, attempt to get over to the rocks without detection. the worst of the whole business is," added mr. brainerd, with an anxious sigh, "that a single marksman over there will do as much injury as a dozen, though he may be longer about it."

"suppose he does get there?"

"but he mustn't," was the quiet answer.

"but suppose he does, what then?"

mr. brainerd was silent for a moment.

"then i shall have to send habakkuk in one direction and gravity in another, to dislodge the indian before he can shoot."

"my gracious!" muttered mcewen, "that would be sure death to all concerned."

"the chances would be against you—that's a fact, but that would be preferable to huddling in this place and allowing the redskins to pick us off, one after another, without being able to raise a finger in defense."

"the state of affairs isn't calculated to raise hilarious laughter on our part," was the doleful remark of habakkuk mcewen.

"therefore, you see how important it is that we should prevent the indians getting such advantage over us."

there could be no questioning this fact, and the other two renewed their watch, like men who knew the need of vigilance.

"i say," remarked the african, as though a new idea had flashed upon him, "why don't the warmints wait till it is dark before dey take a pop at us?"

"very likely they will—but it won't do to discount any such probability."

"dat's de opinion ob de undersigned," said gimp, with a sigh, only dimly suspecting the meaning of the words.

"it's my opinion," said habakkuk, a minute later, "that they won't wait till dark unless they find they've got to do so."

"explain."

"they will venture on something like a rackynoissance, just as gineral washington does before a battle—and if it looks as though there was a show to do something, they'll try it. if they find there isn't, they'll wait till dark."

"you are quite right."

the new englander scratched his head in perplexity.

"well, i don't see where we are going to make anything by such a course, for when night comes they will have us foul, in spite of all we can do."

"we will be at a great disadvantage, but not hopelessly so."

"i don't see why we won't, for what will they want better than darkness to help them over?"

"there will be some light to-night, and it requires very little to show every portion of the upper part of the rocks—enough light, indeed, to demand only a little closer attention on our part. that pile of rocks there is something like the 'umbrella tree,' over on the top of the western mountains: it stands out in such relief, that we cannot fail to detect any movement near it."

"can't they climb up in the rear of them, so as to avoid showing themselves to us?"

"it is impossible," replied mr. brainerd, who had investigated the matter only a brief while before, "that is, the thing is out of the question for the present. if we were to be besieged for several days, they would then find the means, if they had to send across the river to get it."

"and what's to hinder them keeping us here for a week?"

mr. brainerd shook his head, though it was hard for him to tell precisely why he was so positive on that point.

"i don't see why they can't do it," added the new englander; "and then what would we do for water?"

"and for somefin to eat," interjected gravity, with a shudder, for he was already very hungry: "i say, haberkick, we orter to have all we kin to forterfy us agin such a thing, and, derfore, it's my belief dat we orter swaller dat bread without delay."

"and it's my belief that you won't do any such thing," said mr. brainerd, who knew the value of even such a small quantity of nourishment, in view of the long march they expected to make through the wilderness to stroudsburg.

"any way you can fix it," pursued mcewen, "it's sartin we're going to have a mighty hot time—"

at that very moment, before his words were finished, the whip-like crack of an indian rifle was heard, and all three who were looking out over the ravine caught the red flash of a gun from the extreme left of the opposite side—the point from which the fugitives could protect themselves, though it was the most dangerous spot, with the exception of the pile of rocks directly opposite.

"i'm hit and done for!" exclaimed habakkuk mcewen, as he gave a convulsive start and threw himself backward.

naturally enough all were terrified, and aunt peggy uttered a scream as maggie sprang forward to the assistance of the wounded man.

mr. brainerd was shocked, but he did not lose his presence of mind, and, cautioning them to stay as far back as they could, to escape drawing another shot, he remained at his post, bending low and keeping close to the wall, while he watched the point across the ravine with catlike closeness.

"are you badly hurt?" asked maggie, with the natural tenderness of her nature.

"oh, i'm done for, dear maggie; i hoped i should be able to live for your sake—but it seems not."

this was rather startling, but, under the alarming circumstances, much was to be overlooked.

"i hope you are not so seriously hurt as all that," ventured aunt peggy, whose sympathy for the man led her to disregard her own safety, for she placed herself close to him, and necessarily in the same spot where he stood when he fell.

"oh, go away," persisted habakkuk, "i don't want anybody near me but maggie; take my hand, dear, and let me—"

"see h'ar, dat's enough ob dat," broke in gravity. "you ain't hurt any more dan i am; dere's de bullet, and it nebber touched ye."

as he spoke, he picked up a piece of lead, jagged and flattened, which had struck the rocky wall directly over the shoulder of habakkuk, without so much as scratching his skin.

the new englander stared at the battered lead held over his face by the grinning african; then he clapped his hand to his breast, where he supposed he was hurt, came suddenly to a sitting position, scrambled to his feet, and picking up his gun, exclaimed:

"i should like to see the chap that fired that shot, for it's just as bad to scare a fellow to death as to shoot him."

despite the gravity of the situation, a general smile went round the little party, and even mr. brainerd himself, who was closely watching for the appearance of the warrior, preparatory to his leap over the narrow chasm, turned his head with a light laugh and said:

"there's enough likelihood of being struck without making any mistake about it."

gravity gimp sat down on the flinty floor, and leaning back, opened his mouth tremendously, and laughed till he shook all over.

habakkuk glowered on him and said:

"if you'll only keep that mouth open in that style, it will catch all the bullets that can be fired into the cavern."

at that, gravity spread his great jaws farther apart, until there seemed danger of their absorbing his ears.

"yah, yah, dat's de fust time i ever knowed a man killed by a bullet dat nebber touched him."

maggie brainerd bit her lips, while aunt peggy gave her usual sniff and said:

"it's the easiest thing in the world for some folks to make fools of themselves without knowing it."

mcewen sought to divert the ridicule of his friends by his assiduous attention to matters outside.

stationing himself close to mr. brainerd, who was lying on his face with his rifle cocked and extended in front, he also raised the hammer of his gun and whispered:

"sh! i thought i saw an injin's top-knot then!"

"look out he doesn't shoot you wid it," laughed gimp. "dere's no tellin' what dey'll fire wid, and—"

"that's enough of that," interposed mr. brainerd, sternly. "this is no time for mirth. there are indians out there, and i saw the head of one but a second ago."

"what did i tell you?" demanded habakkuk. "you won't feel like laughing a few minutes from now."

at this moment perfect silence fell on all, for they saw that mr. brainerd had discovered something unusual and alarming.

more than that, he was taking deliberate aim at some object, only pausing long enough to make sure that when he fired the ball should not miss.

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