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The Trapper's Son, a fiction by William H. G. Kingston |
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Chapter 6. The Indians Blockade The Fort... |
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_ CHAPTER SIX. THE INDIANS BLOCKADE THE FORT--LAURENCE RECOGNISES THE SIOUX AS OLD FRIENDS--OBTAINS LEAVE TO GO OUT AND MEET THEM--INDUCES THE SIOUX CHIEF TO RETIRE--OBTAINS PRESENTS FOR THE INDIANS--ACCOMPANIES THEM--LAURENCE FINDS HIS OLD NURSE--LAURENCE BIDS FAREWELL TO HIS FRIENDS AT THE FORT.
The early part of the morning had passed quietly away, when a movement was observed in the camp of the Sioux. The white sheet of snow which intervened was soon clotted over with their dark forms as they advanced towards the fort in a long line, extending from east to west, the extreme ends moving at a more rapid rate than the rest, as if they purposed to surround it. On they came, increasing their speed as they drew near, shrieking, and shouting, and frantically brandishing their weapons. Their cries and gestures were terrific in the extreme. They seemed to be working themselves up into a fury, as if preparing to attack the fort, and to destroy the hapless defenders. Mr Ramsay again urged those under his command to die at their posts rather than yield, or to trust to any terms the savages might offer. Mrs Ramsay and her daughter, though pale from hunger, showed no signs of alarm. Their usual morning avocations having been performed, they sat together with the Bible before them, and then kneeling down, with calm confidence offered up their prayers for protection to that merciful God whom they well knew heard all their petitions. Laurence, now perfectly recovered, was on the platform, where most of the garrison were stationed. He there stood, with several guns by his side, prepared to fire on the advancing savages. Mr Ramsay had given orders that not a shot should be discharged till the last moment. Although the men had hitherto shown no lack of courage, when they saw the overwhelming numbers of the expected assailants some of them cried out that it would be impossible to defend the fort against their assaults. Mr Ramsay rebuked them severely, and charged them not again to express such an idea. Their courage, was, however, put to a great test; for the savages, rushing on, fired their rifles, sending showers of bullets rattling against the stockades. Happily, none of the defenders were struck. Still, not a shot was discharged in return, and the savages, surprised at this, instead of continuing to rush on, halted. They had now got so near that even their faces as well as their head-dress, by which the different tribes are distinguished, could clearly be discerned. Mr Ramsay, though unwilling to shed blood, was about to give the order to fire should they again advance, when Laurence exclaimed, "I know them. They are my friends. I am a child of their tribe. They love me; and if I go forth to them, they will listen to what I say." His whole manner seemed changed. As he spoke, his eye brightened. He looked a different being to the careless boy he had hitherto seemed. "How can you influence them, Laurence?" asked Mr Ramsay. "They are not likely to abandon their designs for anything you can say." "Oh, yes, yes, I am sure they will," answered Laurence. "Let me go forth at once. I'll tell them that you are my father's friend, that you preserved my life, and that, if they love me as they say, they must not hurt you or any of your people." "But I am afraid that they will shoot you before they know who you are," said Mr Ramsay. "Oh, I'll run the risk," exclaimed Laurence. "Let me go forth at once, before it is too late. I will tell them how unwilling you were to injure any of them, and that you are good and kind, and wish to be the red man's friend." Mr Ramsay, thinking that Laurence might be the means of preserving the fort, no longer opposed his proposal. Laurence, however, agreed to take a white flag in his hand, with the meaning of which most of the tribes accustomed to trade at the forts were well acquainted. Slipping out at a small postern gate, he let himself down into the trench unseen by the Sioux, and climbing up the opposite bank, the next instant was bounding down the slope of the hill, waving his flag. In a few minutes he had reached the chief who had led the assailants. He uttered a few words, and the next moment the savage warrior stood grasping his hands and gazing in his countenance. "My second father, though your child has long been away from you, he has not forgotten you," he exclaimed; "but he would ere this have been in the world of spirits had not the good white chief, commander of yonder fort, saved his life; and you cannot, knowing this, desire to injure his kind friends. No, my father; you and my brothers promised to be the friend of your son's friends. I knew you even afar off, and my heart yearned towards you, and I felt sure that you would listen to my prayers. You know not the power and generosity of my white friends. Even at this moment their far-reaching guns are pointed towards you, and had they desired to take your life, they would have fired and laid you and many of my brothers low." Laurence continued for some minutes in the same strain. The chief seemed troubled. He was unwilling to lose the booty he expected to find in the fort, at the same time that he remembered his promise to his adopted son, and was struck also by what he had said about his white friends. Laurence thus went on eloquently to plead his cause; at the same time, he took care not to acknowledge how unable the garrison were to hold out much longer. "You have conquered, my son," exclaimed the chief. "I will speak to your brothers; your friends should be our friends. Had blood been shed, our people would have been unwilling to listen to my counsels; but now all will be well. Show the flag you carry, that no one may fire at us as we retire. We will return to our camp, and you will there see many who will welcome you joyfully again among them." Laurence, rejoiced at the success of his mission, stood waving his flag, while the Sioux retired from around the fort. He then quickly followed, and overtook the chief. Inquiries were made for his father, who had been received into the tribe and long resided among them. Laurence replied that he hoped he would soon return, and that he was sure he would be well pleased to hear that they had refrained from injuring his white friends. On reaching the camp, Laurence was received with warm greetings from his red-skinned brothers and sisters, for he was looked on as a brother by all the tribe. He soon found his way to a lodge in which was seated an old woman with shrivelled features, her long white locks hanging down over her skeleton-like shoulders. No sooner did she see him than, uttering a wild shriek of delight, she seized him in her withered arms, and pressed him to her heart. "My child!" she exclaimed; "and you at length have come back to visit the mother who has been yearning for long years to see you; and you have not forgotten her?" "No, indeed," answered Laurence; "from the day my white father took me away I have ever thought of you, and recollected the happy times I passed under your care." "You have come, then, once more to be a brother of our people!" exclaimed his old nurse. "You will not go away again; but you will stay and live in our lodges, and grow up and become a brave hunter of the buffalo and moose, and gladden the eyes of one who loves you better than any white mother." "I have white friends who love me, and have treated me kindly; I should be loath not to see them again. And there is my white father, who may come for me, and I am bound to follow him," answered Laurence. "Your white friends and your white father cannot care for you as we do. Your heart cannot be so hardened towards those who brought you up as to wish again to quit them." Much more his old nurse said in the same strain. Laurence thought of all the kindness he had received from Mrs Ramsay. He was very unwilling also to part from little Jeanie; but old feelings revived within him, the new principles which he had of late heard in the fort had taken no strong hold of him, and he became once more the wild Indian boy of former years. The chief sent for him, and used further powerful arguments to induce him to remain. Laurence at length promised to continue with his old friends, unless his father should claim him; but he begged first to be allowed to go back to the fort to bid farewell to his white friends. The wily Sioux had had no intention of losing altogether the share of the prized articles which he supposed the fort to contain. He consented, therefore, to allow Laurence to return, on condition that he would obtain from the white chief, as he called Mr Ramsay, a certain number of guns, ammunition, blankets, knives, and numerous other things which he named. "If he sends them, we will be his friends; but if not, we shall know that he looks upon us as enemies, and we will take by force what we now only ask as a gift." Laurence, accompanied by a small band of Sioux, set out as the bearer of this message to the fort. The Indians remained outside while he made his way to the gates. He was welcomed warmly by Mr Ramsay. He was thankful to find that the train with the provisions had arrived, and that several of the hunters had also made their way round by the north into the fort, with two bears and several deer and other animals. Mr Ramsay, notwithstanding this, wishing to establish, if possible, friendly relations with the Sioux, agreed to send the articles the chief demanded as a gift, though he still thought it prudent not to put himself or any of his people in their power. "You and your red-skinned friends who have come with you shall, therefore, convey them to the chief, and you will then return and remain with us. I wish to show you how much I value the service you have rendered us; for had the Sioux assailed the fort--as not only had the provisions, but our ammunition run short--they very probably would have entered and put every one within to death." Laurence hung down his head. "I should like to remain, sir," he said, "but I have promised to return, and live with the Sioux, unless my father comes for me. I am at home with them, and know all their ways, and shall become some day, so they say, a great chief among them." "Their ways, I fear, are bad ways," said Mr Ramsay. "And though I cannot tell you to break your promise, you will, I am sure, some day grieve bitterly that you made it. However, go in and see Mrs Ramsay and Jeanie. You would not wish to go without bidding them farewell." "I dare not face them; they might make my heart melt," answered Laurence, doubting his own resolution; but Mr Ramsay led him to the house. Jeanie burst into tears when she heard of his intentions. "Oh, Laurence, and can you, after you have heard about Jesus, have been told of His love, and how He wishes you to be ready to go and live with Him for ever and ever, in glory and happiness, again go back to dwell among heathen savages, who do all sorts of things contrary to His will, merely for the sake of enjoying what you call liberty for a few short years, and thus risk the loss of your soul?" said Mrs Ramsay, taking him kindly by the hand. "The Sioux, in their dark ignorance, may wish you well, so far as this world is concerned, though the life they would induce you to lead is full of danger and hardships; but here you have friends, who desire not only to benefit your mind and body, but to show you how you may obtain blessings which no earthly power can take away, and which will endure throughout eternity. Think of that, Laurence. Would you barter your soul for the sake of a few years of wild excitement, and what you suppose to be enjoyment, and die as a poor ignorant savage, forgetting God and His mercy and loving-kindness, as shown to us in giving His Son to die for our sins, that we may be received again as favoured children, to live with Him in unspeakable happiness for ever and ever?" "But if I become a warrior, and die bravely fighting, I shall go to the happy hunting-grounds with my Indian friends," answered Laurence. It was too evident that all which had been said to the poor lad had fallen upon barren ground. Laurence was still a heathen. _ |