The Scouts of the ValleyAltsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
General
The Scouts of the Valley
Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander)
Chemung River Valley (N.Y. and Pa.) -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Wyoming Valley (Pa.) -- Fiction
Paul watched the last of them disappear among the black bushes and
weeds, and turned back to his friends on the oasis. The five lay down
behind a big fallen pine, and gave their weapons a last look. They
had never been armed better. Their rifles were good, and the fine
double-barreled pistols, formidable weapons, would be a great aid,
especially at close quarters.
“I take it,” said Tom Ross, “that the Iroquois can't get through at all
unless they come along this way, an' it's the same ez ef we wuz settin'
on solid earth, poppin' em over, while they come sloshin' up to us.”
“That's exactly it,” said Henry. “We've a natural defense which we can
hold against much greater numbers, and the longer we hold 'em off, the
nearer our people will be to Fort Penn.”
“I never felt more like fightin' in my life,” said Tom Ross.
It was a grim utterance, true of them all, although not one among them
was bloodthirsty.
“Can any of you hear anything?” asked Henry. “Nothin',” replied
Shif'less Sol, after a little wait, “nothin' from the women goin', an'
nothin' from the Iroquois comin'.”
“We'll just lie close,” said Henry. “This hard spot of ground isn't more
than thirty or forty feet each way, and nobody can get on it without our
knowing it.”
The others did not reply. All lay motionless upon their sides, with
their shoulders raised a little, in order that they might take instant
aim when the time came. Some rays of the sun penetrated the canopy of
pines, and fell across the brown, determined faces and the lean brown
hands that grasped the long, slender-barreled Kentucky rifles. Another
snake slipped from the ground into the black water and swam away. Some
water animal made a light splash as he, too, swam from the presence of
these strange intruders. Then they beard a sighing sound, as of a
foot drawn from mud, and they knew that the Iroquois were approaching,
savages in war, whatever they might be otherwise, and expecting an easy
prey. Five brown thumbs cocked their rifles, and five brown forefingers
rested upon the triggers. The eyes of woodsmen who seldom missed looked
down the sights.
The sound of feet in the mud came many times. The enemy was evidently
drawing near.
“How many do you think are out thar?” whispered Shif'less Sol to Henry.
“Twenty, at least, it seems to me by the sounds.” “I s'pose the best
thing for us to do is to shoot at the first head we see.”
“Yes, but we mustn't all fire at the same man.”
It was suggested that Henry call off the turns of the marksmen, and he
agreed to do so. Shif'less Sol was to fire first. The sounds now ceased.
The Iroquois evidently had some feeling or instinct that they were
approaching an enemy who was to be feared, not weak and unarmed women
and children.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account