Anxious fears followed by a joyful surprise--Safe home at last, andhappy hearts. One fine afternoon, a few weeks after the storm ofwhich we have given an account in the lastchapter, old Mrs. Varley was seated beside her ownchimney corner in the little cottage by the lake, gazingat the glowing logs with the earnest expression of onewhose thoughts were far away. Her kind face waspaler than usual, and her hands rested idly on her knee,grasping the knitting-wires to which was attached a half-finishedstocking.
On a stool near to her sat young Marston, the lad towhom, on the day of the shooting-match, Dick Varleyhad given his old rifle. The boy had an anxious lookabout him, as he lifted his eyes from time to time to thewidow's face.
"Did ye say, my boy, that they were all killed?"inquired Mrs. Varley, awaking from her reverie witha deep sigh.
"Every one," replied Marston. "Jim Scraggs, whobrought the news, said they wos all lying dead withtheir scalps off. They wos a party o' white men."Mrs. Varley sighed again, and her face assumed anexpression of anxious pain as she thought of her sonDick being exposed to a similar fate. Mrs. Varley wasnot given to nervous fears, but as she listened to theboy's recital of the slaughter of a party of white men,news of which had just reached the valley, her heartsank, and she prayed inwardly to Him who is the husbandof the widow that her dear one might be protectedfrom the ruthless hand of the savage.
After a short pause, during which young Marstonfidgeted about and looked concerned, as if he had somethingto say which he would fain leave unsaid, Mrs.
Varley continued,--"Was it far off where the bloody deed was done?""Yes; three weeks off, I believe. And Jim Scraggssaid that he found a knife that looked like the one wotbelonged to--to--" the lad hesitated.
"To whom, my boy? Why don't ye go on?""To your son Dick."The widow's hands dropped by her side, and shewould have fallen had not Marston caught her.
"O mother dear, don't take on like that!" he cried,smoothing down the widow's hair as her head rested onhis breast.
For some time Mrs. Varley suffered the boy to fondleher in silence, while her breast laboured with anxiousdread.
"Tell me all," she said at last, recovering a little.
"Did Jim see--Dick?""No," answered the boy. "He looked at all thebodies, but did not find his; so he sent me over here totell ye that p'r'aps he's escaped."Mrs. Varley breathed more freely, and earnestlythanked God; but her fears soon returned when shethought of his being a prisoner, and recalled the talesof terrible cruelty often related of the savages.
While she was still engaged in closely questioningthe lad, Jim Scraggs himself entered the cottage, andendeavoured in a gruff sort of way to reassure the widow.
"Ye see, mistress," he said, "Dick is an oncommontough customer, an' if he could only git fifty yards' start,there's not an Injun in the West as could git hold o' himagin; so don't be takin' on.""But what if he's been taken prisoner?" said thewidow.
"Ay, that's jest wot I've comed about. Ye see it'snot onlikely he's bin took; so about thirty o' the ladso' the valley are ready jest now to start away and givethe red riptiles chase, an' I come to tell ye; so keep upheart, mistress."With this parting word of comfort, Jim withdrew,and Marston soon followed, leaving the widow to weepand pray in solitude.
Meanwhile an animated scene was going on near theblock-house. Here thirty of the young hunters of theMustang Valley were assembled, actively engaged insupplying themselves with powder and lead, and tighteningtheir girths, preparatory to setting out in pursuitof the Indians who had murdered the white men; whilehundreds of boys and girls, and not a few matrons,crowded round and listened to the conversation, and tothe deep threats of vengeance that were uttered everand anon by the younger men.
Major Hope, too, was among them. The worthymajor, unable to restrain his roving propensities, determinedto revisit the Mustang Valley, and had arrivedonly two days before.
Backwoodsmen's preparations are usually of the shortestand simplest. In a few minutes the cavalcade wasready, and away they went towards the prairies, withthe bold major at their head. But their journey wasdestined to come to an abrupt and unexpected close.
A couple of hours' gallop brought them to the edge ofone of those open plains which sometimes break up thewoodland near the verge of the great prairies. Itstretched out like a green lake towards the horizon, onwhich, just as the band of horsemen reached it, the sunwas descending in a blaze of glory.
With a shout of enthusiasm, several of the youngermembers of the party sprang forward into the plainat a gallop; but the shout was mingled with one of adifferent tone from the older men.
"Hist!--hallo!--hold on, ye catamounts! There'sInjuns ahead!"The whole band came to a sudden halt at this cry,and watched eagerly, and for some time in silence, themotions of a small party of horsemen who were seen inthe far distance, like black specks on the golden sky.
"They come this way, I think," said Major Hope,after gazing steadfastly at them for some minutes.
Several of the old hands signified their assent to thissuggestion by a grunt, although to unaccustomed eyesthe objects in question looked more like crows thanhorsemen, and their motion was for some time scarcelyperceptible.
"I sees pack-horses among them," cried young Marstonin an excited tone; "an' there's three riders; butthere's som'thin' else, only wot it be I can't tell.""Ye've sharp eyes, younker," remarked one of themen, "an' I do b'lieve ye're right."Presently the horsemen approached, and soon therewas a brisk fire of guessing as to who they could be.
It was evident ............