Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy — Volume 2Richardson, Major (John)
General
Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy — Volume 2
Richardson, Major (John)
Pontiac's Conspiracy, 1763-1765 -- Fiction
was insensible to all that was passing. From the moment of the Indian
yell, announcing their entry into the bed-room, she had fainted.
The huge door came now creaking back upon its hinges, when the sounds
of the yet unfinished conflict in front, which had hitherto been
deadened in their descent through the remote staircase, rang once more
fiercely and startlingly upon the ear. A single glance satisfied
Captain Baynton the moment for exertion was come, and that the way to
the lake shore, which, by some strange oversight, both the Indians and
the men had overlooked, was perfectly clear. He clasped his unconscious
burden closer to his chest, and then, setting his life upon the cast,
hastened down the few steps that led to the rampart, and dashed rapidly
through the postern; in the next minute he stood on the uttermost verge
of the sands, unharmed and onfollowed. He cast his eyes anxiously along
the surface of the lake; but such was the excitement and confusion of
his mind, produced by the horrid recollection of the past scene, it was
not until he had been abruptly hailed from it, he could see a boat, at
the distance of about two hundred yards, the crew of which were lying
on their oars. It was the long boat of the schooner, which, prevented
from a nearer approach by a sand bar that ran along the lake to a
considerable extent, had taken her station there to receive the
fugitives. Two tall young men in the dress, yet having little the mien,
of common sailors, were standing up in her stern; and one of these,
with evident anxiety in his manner, called on Baynton by name to make
the best of his way to the boat. At that moment a loud and frantic yell
came from the block-house the latter had just quitted. In the wild
impulse of his excited feelings, he answered with a cheer of defiance,
as he turned to discover the precise point whence it proceeded. The
windows of the apartment so recently occupied by the unhappy cousins,
were darkened with savage forms, who now pealed forth their mingled
fury and disappointment in the most terrific manner.
"Fly, fly, Baynton, or you are lost!" exclaimed the same voice from the
boat; "the devils are levelling from the windows."
While he yet spake several shots came whizzing along the waters, and a
spent ball even struck the now rapidly fleeing officer in the back; but
the distance was too great for serious injury. The guns of the savages
had been cut so short for their desperate enterprise, that they carried
little further than a horse pistol.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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