CHAPTER XIV--THE AMBUSH

Thus exhorted, the women, with many protests that they had been getting the supper ready as quickly as they could, set an appetizing stew on the table and all eleven of them sat round and fell to, with exceeding relish after their late terrible fight for life.

As before, one or other of the party from time to time rose during the meal, and looked out upon the lake to guard against any surprise attack by some of their late besiegers. Sergeant Dick sat between Muriel and Jenny, and was scowled at the whole time by Abner, who sat opposite him.

The two girls did their best to dissuade the sergeant from starting out before daylight, when, as they said, he might be able by a little reconnoitering, to learn whether the Indians were still in the neighborhood and likely to intercept him.

“And if they were,” he answered, “I should then be stuck here until nightfall again; it would be hopeless to think of getting away. But, if I slip off now, I have everything in my favor, and should be able to get ashore safely and reach Seymour’s cabin before daybreak.”

All the men and the other women agreed with him; and, at his request, old Alf Arnold, exchanging again sundry mysterious winks and nods with not only his sons, but his wife and daughters-in-law as well, proceeded to give him minute instructions how he would get to the shepherd Bill Seymour’s lonely dwelling.

And then, the meal being at an end, Dick asked which of the young men would put him ashore in a canoe.

“Oh, we’ll take you ashore in the ark, sergeant--me and three of the lads--you, Aaron, Amos, and Abner. Abel, you and the women ought to be able to hold the ‘castle’ until our return, although I doan’t for a minute think as ’ow it’s likely to be attacked ag’in, or us either, for that matter. So get ready you three, Aaron, Amos, Abner! Buckle on your cartridge belts ag’in and let’s be moving, for I can see the sergeant wants to be off.”

John Dick offered his hand to each of the women in succession, and he could not help noticing what flabby handshakes all save Muriel and Jenny gave him.

“Good-by! I hope to see you all again soon, under better circumstances,” he said, as he followed the squatter and his three sons out the door on to the verandah.

It was quite dark outside now. The tar-barrel had long since burnt itself out, as had also the stable and buggy-shed on Stable Islet; and the light had been extinguished in the front or living-room of the “castle,” so that any watchful eyes on the shores of the lake might not see the door open, and what was ado.

As all the adieux had been said inside the house, the five men did not linger on the verandah, but ran at once to the near end of the ark and sprang aboard.

Old Alf unlocked the cabin door in case of a sudden necessary retreat. Then while Abel, inside the “castle,” cast off the mooring-rope secured through the window, Abner hauled it in, and Aaron, Amos, and Sergeant Dick hoisted the sail on the mast, and got out two long sweeps as well.

As silently as possible the scow was worked towards the dock-gate, which was found considerably the worse for the siege.

One of the padlocks was smashed, and the other so battered that the key would hardly fit the lock, while the stout oaken beams and pales were all hacked and chipped from the free use of Indian tomahawks.

Unfastening and opening the gate, they warped the ark out. Then Arnold _pater_ secured the gate again and, spreading their sail fully to what breeze there was, they shipped their sweeps and stood silently away round the east side of the “castle,” so as to deceive any Indian eyes that might have them under observation.

They made as if for the landing-spit on the east side for a short distance, then tacked and steered northward up the lake, and, when they were approaching the narrow curving neck there, they shifted sail again and headed at top speed for the western shore.

By this erratic course they hoped to deceive and leave behind any Indian canoes that might be out on the lake spying about.

It yet wanted a good two hours to daylight, as they backed in slowly to the western bank, and gently grounded their broad stern on a little jutting point similar to the landing-place on the opposite bank.

All was still save for the low murmuring of the trees in the night breeze, and an occasional ripple of the placidly lapping water against the bank and the sides of the scow. The trees were very dense at the point, the same as everywhere else round the lake, and in the darkness they seemed to present an impenetrable wall.

But as Old Alf had explained to the sergeant of mounted police, a trail of blazed trees, which would show up white and thus be plainly visible even on so dark a night, led right from the point to the foot of the high cliffs behind the woods. On reaching the cliffs all he had to do was to skirt their base northward, turn with them and follow them round, and he could not miss Seymour’s hut on their farther side.

“Well, good-by, sergeant, I ’opes as ’ow you’ve enjoyed yourself while you’ve bin ’ere,” said Old Alf, in grim humor, as he shook Dick’s hand. “Now, your trail’s as cl’ar as daylight, and ye’ll only hev yourself to blame if you go astray.”

“He can’t go astray nohow, onless he doan’t know his right ’and from his left,” growled Aaron. “So long, sergeant! Don’t forgit to give us a call next time you are in these parts.”

“Ay, don’t fail to drop in next time you’re passin’ the lake,” grinned Amos, cracking an old chestnut which had done hoary service in the family since one of their early visitors first cracked it.

Abner was not present. He had purposely kept to the other end of the scow.

Sergeant Dick pressed the hands of the three men again, and sprang lightly ashore. He turned and waved his hand, then plunged into the bushes out of sight--to be seized suddenly by the throat with a strangling grip by a dark form which appeared to spring out of the ground itself!

At the same time his arms were pinned to his sides by other shadowy, plume-bedecked forms.

Sergeant Dick was unable to utter a cry with that choking grip upon his throat, and he was powerless to wrench his arms free. But he had been in many a similar predicament before--in drinking saloons and other wild places into which his profession took him in chase of the malefactor, or the maintenance of law and order--and he had learned certain tricks of defense even when taken at such a disadvantage.

Quick as thought he jerked up his right knee with all his strength. It came in contact with something soft and yielding--the chest of the man gripping him by the throat of course.

There was a gasp, and the Indian relaxed his grip upon his windpipe.

Immediately he sent up a ringing warning shout to the occupants of the ark.

“Help! Redskins!”

At the same time he ducked his head and drove it forward at the winded savage’s face, while wrenching with all his strength to free his arms, and curling one of his legs round in a sweeping motion sideways and backwards.

His maneuvers were highly successful. In fully a dozen cases he had found them work just as well before.

The winded savage was sent flying headlong backwards against a tree with his nose nearly flattened by the top of the white captive’s head; and another redman, with legs scooped clean from under him, went down sidelong, amongst the bushes on the brave young police officer’s right hand.

With that hand thus released, Sergeant Dick promptly drove it into the chest of the Indian, pinning his left hand. And as the man staggered back, tripping over the bushes and nearly falling, the thicket rang to the piercing war-whoop of the Indians, and became alive with madly rushing, be-plumed shadows.

Two of these aimed fierce blows at Sergeant Dick’s head, but, luckily for him, in striking down the Indian on his left, he had slipped upon a fallen twig. He fell heavily upon the broad of his back, and the tomahawks of the two fresh assailants missed him.

One of the pair, indeed, fell over him, and the second man, satisfied that he could not escape with his late captors also to reckon with, ran on after the others towards the ark.

There came the sharp popping of revolvers from that craft, and several screams of agony intermingled with the Indian whooping.

Old Alf Arnold and his sons were not taken unawares. They had caught the alarm from Sergeant Dick’s devoted shout, and instantly wheeled about and dropped, crouching upon one knee in the stern, in the act of pushing the craft off the point.

All three had their holster flaps open, so that they might whip out their automatics instantly. In fact, as they had approached the shore every man had his pistol ready cocked in his hand.

Partly screened, in their kneeling attitudes, by the high sloping stern and sides of the scow, they met the onrush of the Indians with a fusillade which quickly checked it.

Old Alf, Aaron and Amos were in the stern, as already stated. Abner was in the bows with the long, double-roomed cabin between him and them.

He was out of the fight so to speak, but, a quick glance round the side of the “house” or cabin showed him the forms of his father and brothers firing at the redskins ashore, and hurriedly he grabbed a rope that came in over the bow and was attached to an anchor some little way out in the lake.

He heaved upon this rope quickly, hand over hand, with all his might, and drew the light, easily moved ark, swiftly through the water away from the shore.

This was another of the many “wrinkles” or ideas that Old Alf Arnold had taken from the famous American author, Fenimore Cooper’s story, “The Deerslayer.” Like “Floating Tom Hutter” in that novel, Arnold and his sons always dropped an anchor well away from the shore of the lake when about to land from the ark, and paid out the rope. By hauling on the rope a prompt retreat, if necessary, from the shore could always be easily effected.