The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the MississippiAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
General
The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippi
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; Mississippi River -- Juvenile fiction
They stretched themselves on the damp earth, the great, yellow river close
behind them, and the forest in front swarming with the savage force. They
had expected other men who had landed to come to their aid, but the
parties had become separated in the darkness and confusion of the battle,
and they were left alone. Nevertheless a dauntless heart beat in every
breast, and they expected to hold that neck of land, which seemed to be a
channel for the pursued, until the last fugitive was safe.
Lying upon their faces, half supported by their elbows, they could load
and fire whenever they saw a hostile figure in front of them. Again and
again the pursuit of a skirmisher was driven back by these deadly
riflemen. Now and then a cannon shot fired from their own fleet whistled
over their heads and struck in the forest among their foes, but they paid
no attention to it. They were intent upon their own work and every faculty
was concentrated for the task.
They had the bayou on one side and a little bay of the river on the other,
and they could not be surrounded by land. The foe was always straight
before them, in a way, eye to eye, and there they sent bullets that rarely
missed.
A fever was in their blood, the long battle, its tremendous events, and
the new phase that it had now assumed, set every nerve to going. Certain
faculties useless for that crisis had become atrophied for the time. They
no longer heard the sounds of the cannon shots over their heads or the
shouts of the men on the boats, they saw and heard nothing but their own
battle and what lay directly in front of them.
The position was growing more dangerous. Their searching fire had drawn
upon them an enemy always increasing in numbers. The savages converged in
front of them in a semicircle, and their fire grew heavier and heavier.
Bullets whistled over them, struck the earth about them, or clipped their
clothing.
Another fugitive passed them and escaped, and then yet another. It was
evident that their task was not yet done, and they would not leave,
although the fire poured upon them, still increased in heat and the
bullets came in showers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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