When Wilderness was King: A Tale of the Illinois CountryParrish, Randall
General
When Wilderness was King: A Tale of the Illinois Country
Parrish, Randall
Illinois -- Fiction
His face was white and drawn from agony, and he pressed one hand upon
his side, while perspiration stood in beads upon his forehead. But no
moan came from his set lips; and when he rested a moment on his knees,
looking about him upon the dead, a look of grim approval swept into his
eyes.
"Saint Guise, Wayland," he said soberly, "'twas a master fight, and the
savages had it not all their own way!"
It made me sick to hear such boasting amidst the horror that yet
overwhelmed me, and I drew the fellow up to his feet with but little
tenderness.
"God knows 'tis sad enough!" I answered, shortly. "Come, there are
parties of Indians already straying this way from the Fort yonder, and
it behooves us to get in hiding."
He made the distance between us and the water with far less difficulty
than I had expected, and with a better use of his limbs at each step.
In spite of vigorous protest on his part, I forced him out from the
shore until the water entirely covered us, save only our faces; and
there we waited for the merciful coming of the night.
CHAPTER XXVII
A GHOSTLY VISION
The touch of the water brought renewed life to De Croix. This was shown
by the brighter color stealing into his cheeks, as well as by the more
careless tone that crept into his voice. The lake proved shallow for
some considerable distance off shore, and I compelled the Frenchman to
wade with me southward, and as far out as we dared venture, until we
must have reached the extreme limit of the field of massacre. Indeed,
I fully believed we had passed beyond the point where the attack had
first burst upon Captain Wells's Miamis; for I could perceive no sign
of any bodies lying opposite us against the white background of sand.
As the night drew on, squads of savages wandered over the scene of
slaughter, despoiling the stiffening corpses, and taking from the
wagons whatever might suit their fancy. Yet we were now so far removed
that we could distinguish little of their deeds, although the sound of
their voices echoed plainly enough across the water to our ears.
As time passed, the numbness that had paralyzed my brain, either from
the cruel blow that felled me or the terrible shock my nerves had
experienced, gradually passed away, and our situation became more vivid
to my mind. I thought again of all who had gone forth that morning
filled with hope and life. I had, it is true, known none of them long,
but there were many in that ill-fated company who had already grown
dear to me, and one was among them who I now knew beyond all question
was to remain in my heart forever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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