The Story of Red Feather by Edward Sylvester Ellis (urban books to read txt) 📖

the water.

The instant his hoof rested on dry land the youth struck him into a swift canter, which was not checked until he arrived at the house. While yet some distance, the lad's fears were deepened by what he saw, or rather by what he failed to see. Not a horse or cow was in sight; only the ducks and chickens were there, the former waddling to the water.

When Archie Clarendon made his home on that spot, a few years before, one of the questions he had to meet was as to the best way of guarding against attacks from Indians, for there were plenty of them in that part of the country. There are very few red men who will not steal; and they are so fond of "firewater," or intoxicating drink, that they are likely to commit worse crimes.

The pioneer, therefore, built his house much stronger than he would have done had he waited several years before putting it up.

It was made of logs, strongly put together, and the windows were so narrow that no person, unless very slim, could push his way through them. Of course the door was heavy, and it could be fastened in its place so firmly that it would have resisted the assault of a strong body of men.

By this time Melville, who had galloped up to the front and brought his horse to a halt, was almost sure that something dreadful had happened, and he hesitated a moment before dismounting or lowering Dot to the ground. She began twisting about in his grasp, saying plaintively--

"Let me down, Mel; I want to see papa and mamma."

"I don't think they are there," he said, again swallowing a lump in his throat.

She turned her head around and looked wonderingly up in his face, not knowing what he meant. He could not explain, and he allowed her to drop lightly on her feet.

"Wait a minute," he called, "till I take a look inside."

In imagination he saw an awful sight. It was that of his beloved parents slain by the cruel red men--one of whom had waved his blanket tauntingly at him only a few minutes before.

He could not bear that Dot should look upon the scene that would haunt her, as it would haunt him, to her dying day. He meant to hold her back until he could take a look inside; but her nimble feet carried her ahead, and she was on the porch before he could check her.

Saladin was a horse that would stand without tying; and, paying no heed to him, the youth hurried after his sister, seizing her hand as it was raised to draw the string hanging outside the door.

"Dot," he said, "why do you not obey me? You must wait till I first go in."

It was not often her big brother spoke so sternly, and there came a tear into each of the bright eyes, as she stepped back and poutingly waited for him to do as he thought best.

Melville raised his hand to draw the latch, but his heart failed. Stepping to one side, he peered through the narrow window that helped to light up the lower floor.

The muslin curtain was partly drawn, but he was able to see most of the interior. Table, chairs, and furniture were all in place, but not a glimpse of a living person was visible.

The emotions of childhood are as changeable as the shadows of the flitting clouds.

Dot was pouting while Mel stood irresolute on the small porch, and was sure she would never, never speak to the mean fellow again; but the instant he peeped through the narrow window she forgot everything else, and darted forward to take her place at his side, and find out what it was that made him act so queerly.

Before she reached him she stopped short with the exclamation--

"Oh, Mel! here's a letter for you!"


CHAPTER TWO

AN IMPORTANT LETTER--SHUT IN

Astonished by the cry, young Clarendon turned his head and looked at his sister, who landed at his side that moment like a fairy. She was holding a sheet of paper in her hand. It was folded in the form of an envelope, and pencilled on the outside in bold letters were the words--

"Melville Clarendon.
"In haste; read instantly."

He took the letter from his sister and trembled, as if from a chill, as he hurriedly unfolded the paper and read--

"MY DEAR MEL,--Leave at once! The Sioux have taken the war-path,
and a party of their worst warriors from the Muddy Creek country
have started out on a raid. They are sure to come this way, and
I suppose the house will be burned, and everything on which they
can lay hands destroyed. They are under the lead of the
desperate Red Feather, and will spare nothing. A friendly Sioux
stopped this morning before daylight and warned me. I gathered
the animals together, and your mother and I set out for Barwell
in all haste, driving the beasts before us.

"I feel certain of either finding you and Dot at my brother's in
the settlement or of meeting you on the way, for I suppose, of
course, you will follow the regular trail; but, at the moment of
starting, your mother suggests the possibility that you may take
the upper route. To make sure, I write this letter. If the
Indians reach the building before you, they will leave such
traces of their presence that you will take the alarm. If you
arrive first and see this note, re-mount Saladin, turn
northward, and lose not a minute in galloping to the settlement.
None of them can overtake you. Avoid the upper trail, where it
is much easier for them to ambush you; keep as much on the open
prairie as possible; see that your weapons are loaded; make
Saladin do his best; and God be with you and Darling Dot.--
Your Father."

The youth read this important message aloud to Dot, who stood at his side, looking wistfully up in his face. She was too young to comprehend fully its meaning, but she knew that her parents had left for the settlement, and that her father had ordered Melville to follow at once with her.

"The bad Indians are coming," he added, "and if we stay here they will shoot us. I don't think," he said, glancing around, "that they are anywhere near; but they are likely to come any minute, so we won't wait."

"Oh, Mel!" suddenly spoke up Dot, "you know I forgot to take Susie with me when I went away; can't I get her now?"

Susie was Dot's pet doll, and the fact that she left it behind when making her visit to Uncle Jack's had a great deal more to do with her home-sickness than her friends suspected. The thought of leaving it behind again almost broke her heart.

"I am sure mother took it with her when she went off this morning," replied Melville, feeling a little uneasy over the request.

"I'll soon find out," said she, stepping hastily towards the door.

He could not refuse her wish, for he understood the depth of the affection she felt for the doll, whose dress was somewhat torn, and whose face was not always as clean as her own. Besides, it could take only a minute or two to get the plaything, if it had been left in the house. Although his situation prevented his seeing anything in the rear of the building, he was sure the dreaded Indians were not yet in sight, and he desired to make a hasty survey of the interior of the house himself.

How familiar everything looked! There were the chairs placed against the wall, and the deal table in the middle of the room. Melville noticed that the pictures which had hung so long on the walls had been taken away. They were portraits of the members of the family, and the mother looked upon them as too precious to be allowed to run any risk of loss. A few other valuables, including the old Bible, had been removed; but the parents were too wise to increase their own danger by loading themselves with goods, however much they regretted leaving them behind.

Although there was an old-fashioned fire-place, the Clarendons used a large stove standing near it. Curiosity led Melville to examine it, and he smiled to find it still warm. The ashes within, when stirred, showed some embers glowing beneath. There was something in the fact which made the youth feel as though the distance between him and his parents had become less than a short time before.

"Strange that I took the upper trail," he said to himself, resuming his standing position, "and thereby missed them. It's the first time I have been over that course for a long while, and it beats me that to-day when I shouldn't have done so I must do it; but fortunately no harm was done."

It struck him that Dot was taking an unusually long time in the search for her doll. Walking to the foot of the stairs, he called to her--

"It won't do to wait any longer, Dot; we must be off. If you can't find your doll, it's because mother took it with her."

"I've found it! I've found it!" she exclaimed, dancing with delight; "I had hid it in the bed, where mother didn't see it; bless your soul, Susie!"

And Melville laughed as he heard a number of vigorous smacks which told how much the child loved her pet.

"I suppose you are happy now," remarked Melville, taking her hand, while he held his gun in the other, as they walked towards the door.

"Indeed I am," she replied, with that emphatic shake of the head by which children of her years often give force to their words.

Melville placed his hand on the latch of the door, and, raising it, drew the structure inward. He had lowered his arm and once more taken the hand of his sister, and was in the act of stepping outside, when the sharp report of a rifle broke the stillness, and he felt the whiz of the bullet, which grazed his face and buried itself in the wall behind him.

The lad was quick-witted enough to know on the instant what it meant; and, leaping back, he hastily closed the door, drew in the latch-string, and, leaning his rifle against the side of the room, slipped the bar in place.

He had hardly done so when there was a shock, as if some heavy body were flung violently against it. Such was the fact, a Sioux warrior having turned himself sideways at the moment of leaping, so that his shoulder struck it with a force sufficient to carry a door off its