The Border Watch: A Story of the Great Chief's Last StandAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
General
The Border Watch: A Story of the Great Chief's Last Stand
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction
Three or four times Henry was within an inch of overturning his frail
craft with the precious freight, but he persisted, and by skillfully
balancing himself and the raft too he succeeded at last. Then he was
compelled to lie perfectly still, with his arms outstretched and his
feet in the water. He was flat upon his back and he could look at only
the heavens, which offered to his view nothing--no bright stars and
shining moon, only lowering clouds. If an enemy appeared, he must depend
upon his ear to give warning. But the physical difficulty of his
position did not keep him from feeling a delightful sense of rest. The
soreness left his chest, the ache disappeared from his arms and legs,
and he drew the fresh air into his lungs in deep and easy breaths. An
occasional kick of his feet kept the raft from floating down stream,
and, for a while, he lay there, studying the clouds, and wondering how
long it would be until the twinkle of a star would break through them.
He heard the sound of both paddles and oars, the first to the north and
the other to the south. But his experienced ear told him that each was
at least two hundred yards away, which was too far for anyone to see him
stretched out upon his boards. So he rested on and waited for his ears
to tell him whether the sounds were coming any nearer. The boat with the
oars passed out of hearing and the sound of the oars became fainter and
fainter. Henry's heart ticked a note of thankfulness. He would not be
disturbed for the present, and he continued his study of the low clouds,
while the strength flowed back into every part of his body.
It occurred to him presently that he could steer as well as propel his
float with his feet. So he set to work, threshing the water very slowly
and carefully, and turning his head towards the mouth of the Licking.
Occasionally he heard the sounds of both oars and paddles, but he judged
very accurately that those who wielded them were not near enough to see
him. He was thankful that the night was not broken like the one before
with flashes of lightning which would infallibly have disclosed him to
the enemy.
After a half hour of this work, he felt a strange current of water
against his feet, and at first he was puzzled, but the solution came in
a few minutes. He was opposite the mouth of the Licking, and he had come
into contact with the stream before it was fully merged into the Ohio.
What should he do next? The cordon across the Licking, a much narrower
river, would be harder to pass than that on the Ohio.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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