The Eyes of the Woods: A Story of the Ancient WildernessAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
General
The Eyes of the Woods: A Story of the Ancient Wilderness
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction
Perhaps the Indians on the spit did not know that the canoe contained
the best marksmen in the West, as they crowded closer to the water's
edge, uttered a yell or two of triumph and raised their own weapons. The
three rifles in the canoe flashed together and the big warrior, the
short, broad one, and the one with the red blanket looped over his
shoulder, fell on the sand. One of them got up again and fled with his
unhurt comrades into the forest, but the others lay quite still, with
their feet in the water. As the marksmen reloaded rapidly, Henry cried
to the paddlers:
"Now, boys, back toward the middle of the river and put all your might
in it!"
Paul and Long Jim swung the canoe into the main current, which had
increased greatly in strength here, owing to the narrowing of the
stream, and their paddles flashed fast. Two of the Indians who had fled
into the woods reappeared and fired at them, but their bullets fell
wide, and Henry, who had now rammed in the second charge, wounded one of
them, whereupon they fled to cover as quickly as they did the first
time.
Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross had also reloaded, but put their rifles in
the bottom of the boat and resumed their paddles. The danger on the land
spit had been passed, but the great canoes behind them were hanging on
tenaciously and were gaining, not rapidly, but with certainty. Henry
swept them again with a measuring eye, and he saw no reason to change
his calculations.
"They'll come within rifle shot in just about an hour," he repeated.
"We'd pick off some of them with our bullets, but they'd keep on coming
anyhow, and that would be the end of us."
Such a solemn statement would have daunted any but those who had escaped
many great dangers. Imminent and deadly as was the peril, it did not
occur to any of the five that they would not evade it, the problem now
being one of method rather than result.
"What are we going to do, Henry?" asked Paul.
"I don't know yet," replied the leader, "but we'll keep going until
something develops."
"Thar's your development!" exclaimed the shiftless one, as a rifle was
fired from the northern shore, and a bullet plashed in the water just
ahead of them. Then came a second shot from the same source which struck
the inoffensive river behind them. They were now being attacked from
both banks while the great canoes followed tenaciously.
"We don't have to bother about one thing," said Paul grimly. "We know
which way to go, and it's the only way that's open to us."
But the threat offered by the northern shore did not seem to be so
menacing. The river began to widen again and rapidly, and the scattered
shots fired later on came from a great distance, falling short. Those
discharged from the southern bank also missed the mark as widely. Henry
no longer paid any attention to them, but was examining the forest and
the curves of the river with a minute scrutiny. His look, which had been
very grave, brightened suddenly, and a reassuring flash appeared in his
eye.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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