Chapter 7. "A Little Child Shall Lead Them."--Surrounded By Peril

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_ CHAPTER SEVEN. "A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM."--SURROUNDED BY PERIL

Within a distance of a dozen yards of the house of Archibald Clarendon stood his barn. It was what might be called a nondescript building, being open at the bottom to an extent sufficient to admit his wagons, ploughs, farming implements, harnesses, and indeed about everything used in the cultivation of the fertile land.

In the upper portion were stowed his hay and grain, and in the rear of the lower part were the stables for his horses and cows. The latter, with his principal wagon, had been removed that morning, when the settler started with his family on their hasty flight northward to the settlement of Barwell; but the timber was dry, and enough hay was stored in the loft to render the building very combustible.

It was to this structure that the Sioux had applied the torch, and at the moment the smoke rolled in front of the house the whole building was in flames. Unfortunately, there was a gentle breeze blowing from the barn directly toward the house, and it was because of this favoring fact that the former was fired. The marauders had every reason to believe the flames would soon communicate with the dwelling and burn it to the ground.

The barn faced the end with the broad stone chimney, through which Red Feather made his singular entrance. It was therefore out of the field of vision of the inmates, since there was not a single window up or down stairs with an outlook in that direction.

Melville started to run down the steps on making the startling discovery, but met Red Feather coming up with one hand grasping that of Dot.

"My gracious!" exclaimed the youth; "what can be done now, Red Feather? We shall all be burned alive."

"Oogh! not yet--house ain't afire!" replied the chieftain, without any evidence of excitement.

"But the wind is blowing this way, and the house is sure to go."

"Mebbe go--mebbe won't go," was the reply with the same stolidity of manner; "wait--see bimeby."

It would seem that, since the Sioux had such a good chance to do mischief, they would have applied the fire to the house itself. But, though the logs were dry enough to burn readily when the flames were fairly started, it was still a task requiring considerable time and work. It was necessary to pile the fuel against the logs, and to nurse the flames until they set the heavy material going. The barn was so inflammable that a tiny match would ignite it, and, should the fire reach the house, the task would be equally effective, and far more enjoyable to the cruel spectators.

While Red Feather and Melville stood near each other on the upper floor, talking in low tones, Dot slipped her hand from the grasp of the chieftain, and walking to the side of the bed on which she had been lying, knelt down, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands, just as she had been accustomed to do at her mother's knee ever since she was old enough to form the words after her parent.

"She is praying," whispered her brother.

After repeating a simple prayer for their safety the child opened her eyes, and, seeing her friends looking at her, she sprang nimbly up and ran to them.

"Don't be scared, brother and Red Feather; I prayed that we might all be taken care of, and I'm not afraid one bit now, are you?"

Melville tried to speak, but his voice choked him. His eyes filled, and, lifting the precious one in his arms, he pressed her to his breast and kissed her again and again.

The chieftain said nothing, but he too raised the child in his arms and touched his lips to hers. Not only that, but he filled her with delight by saluting Susie in the same manner.

Who shall try to make known the emotions which stirred that savage heart? He had often turned in scorn from the words of the good missionaries who had come to his country; but there was something in the faith of the sweet child which touched his nature as it had never been touched before.

Having set the little one on her feet, the Sioux stepped across the main room to the window from which most of their observations had been made on that floor. Melville followed him, and noticed that the smoke had vanished, so that the sentinel on the hill was in sight again.

Red Feather thrust his hand through the windows, so that his fingers projected slightly beyond. This was done to ascertain the direction of the wind.

"Oogh!" he muttered, with a curious expression on his countenance "_wind blow oder way!_ Great Spirit hear what pappoose say."

"Can it be possible?" asked the awed Melville.

There was no doubt of it; the slight breeze, which had been coming directly from the barn toward the house had changed, and was now blowing in exactly the opposite direction.

The chief and the youth passed into the smaller apartment which was nearest the chimney. The former pressed his ear against the logs to help his hearing. Had they caught the flames from the barn, which was still burning furiously, he could not have failed to detect the fact. A moment's attention told him that up to the present the building was safe.

But it was not in the nature of things that the Sioux should refrain because their first effort failed. They were not the ones to give up on a single trial.

Several noteworthy things took place during the latter part of this eventful afternoon. First of all, there was such a decided lowering of the temperature that a fire would have felt comfortable to the occupants of the building. It looked indeed to Melville as though one of those fearful storms known in the west as "blizzards" was approaching.

This was hardly possible, for it was summer-time, but the plains of Texas and many portions of the west are often swept by what are termed "northers" during the warm season. These winds are accompanied by such cutting cold that people and animals often perish, the suddenness of the visitation shutting them out from securing refuge.

Red Feather offered his blanket to Dot, but she shook her head. "It's too dirty," she said, noticing the soot which the owner did not seem to mind; "I can use a blanket from the bed, for mamma did not take them all with her."

Had Melville suspected the thought in the mind of his little sister, he would have checked its utterance through fear of offending the chieftain, but there was no need of that: one of the impossibilities was for Dot to hurt his feelings.

The next most interesting event was the second failure of the Sioux to set fire to the house. This was singular, for there seemed no reason why they should not have succeeded with such facilities at command.

The barn burned so readily that long before dusk it was reduced to a mass of smoking ruins.

From these, it would have appeared, enough brands could have been collected to make a bonfire of the structure.

Several of the Sioux gathered fuel at one corner of the building, and made an attempt to fire it. The sounds which reached those within left no doubt of what was going on, and you may be sure they listened with anxiety.

It was while matters were in this critical shape that Melville put the direct question to Red Feather as to what he would do in the event of the house being fired. The chieftain replied that, when he saw there was no saving the building, he intended to take Dot in his arms and walk out of the door among his own warriors. The lad was to follow immediately, and he would insist that the lives of the children should be spared because of the promise made by him to them.

Pressed further, the chief admitted that the plan was likely to be only partially successful. He was confident he could save Dot, because of her sex and years; but there was little hope for Melville. Unless prevented by the care of the little girl, Red Feather was willing to join in the fight which the youth would have to make for his life with scarcely an earthly prospect of winning.

But the attempt to fire the log structure came to naught, and, strangest of all, the Sioux gave it up--at least for a time, for it would have been contrary to Indian nature had they abandoned the effort to destroy their enemies so long as there was a chance of success.

Thus matters stood until the shadows of night began closing over the prairie. During the interval, many glimpses of the Sioux had been caught, as they moved backward and forward at will, sometimes mounted and often on foot. The sentinel kept his place on the crest of the hill, or rather, he exchanged it with one of his brother warriors, who walked about, sat down, smoked his pipe, and used every means at his command to cause the time to pass comfortably to him.

The failure of the arrival of help caused not only surprise but distress to Melville Clarendon; for there was but one way of interpreting it: something had befallen his parents by which they were prevented from reaching the settlement.

The youth had tried all through the afternoon to drive away the misgivings which had troubled him on this score; but he could do so no longer. It was in keeping with the tactics of the Indians that, after arranging to attack the home of Clarendons, they should circle to the northward, so as to approach it from the direction of the settlement. Had they done this, with a view of shutting off all escape to Barwell, it was more than likely they did it early enough in the day to meet the pioneer and his wife hurrying from the place of danger.

Had this meeting taken place, nothing could have saved the couple. Melville secured some consolation from the belief that, if such an awful calamity had overtaken his parents, the Sioux would give evidence of the fact. That is to say, they would have taken possession of the horses and enough of the property for the lad to see them on the first survey of the assailants.

The fact that he did not detect anything of the kind might be accepted as proof that no meeting had taken place with the particular party under the leadership of Red Feather.

But that question was easily answered by Red Feather himself. He assured Melville that he and his warriors had come from the south, arriving on the spot only a short time before the appearance of the brother and sister on the other bank of the stream. He had waved his blanket at the children as a taunt, not supposing they would come any closer after seeing him; but, riding over the hill, he peeped cautiously back, and learned that Melville, not catching the meaning of the gesture, was approaching his home. Thereupon the chief called back his men who were riding off, and arranged to secure the young birds returning to the nest from which the parents had flown.

All the comfort that the youth might have got from this story was spoiled by the declaration of the chief that he believed an encounter had taken place between Mr. Clarendon and the other party of Sioux which reached the spot later in the afternoon. These were under the lead of Tall Bear, a rival of Red Feather, between whom a jealousy amounting to bitter enmity existed.

Had Red Feather not seen Tall Bear among the group he would have adopted a course which the presence of that rival prevented. He would have gone out among his own warriors, and insisted on his rights with a vigor that could hardly have failed of success. Though his men were not afraid of dispute with him, yet they were not likely to invite violence. When they saw he was fully resolved they would yield. The conclusion to be reached from this statement is that Red Feather after all did not make half as determined an argument in behalf of his friends as he appeared to have done. Melville, therefore, was right in his first suspicion, though he was too thoughtful to say so.

Darkness had not fully come when it became clear to the watchers within the building that something unusual was going on among the Sioux outside. Nearly the entire party came together on the crest of the hill, where they were only dimly visible in the gathering gloom. They could be seen walking back and forth, making many gestures, and talking so loud that their voices were clearly heard.

Leaning against the side of the window, Red Feather strained his hearing to catch some words that would give him an inkling of what it all meant.

The heart of the youth throbbed with the hope that the long-expected help was in sight at last. It seemed to him the Sioux were acting just as they would do in case they detected the approach of hostile horsemen.

But the sorely-tried lad could only wait until Red Feather should answer the question on his tongue, or until it should be answered by the events themselves. _

Read next: Chapter 8. Tall Bear And His Warriors--A Surprising Discovery

Read previous: Chapter 6. The Muddy Creek Band--The Torch

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