CHAPTER XXXI
The battle of Bushy Run was so disastrous to the Indians that many of them fled to parts unknown immediately after the results of the conflict were ascertained. They lost several hundred in killed and wounded, and among the number were a half a dozen well-known chiefs.
But though he had been victorious, Colonel Bouquet had suffered a heavy loss, consequently he continued on his march to Fort Pitt with as great caution as before. Eight officers and one hundred and fifteen men had fallen, and it was a sad body of troops that wended its way through the wilderness.
Barringford and Rodney were very downhearted over the disappearance of Dave, and hoped hour by hour that he would reappear.
At last, on the tenth of August, the troops came in sight of Fort Pitt and were glad to see that the stronghold had not fallen, although greatly harassed by the red men for many weeks. Provisions and ammunition were running low, and Captain Ecuyer hailed the coming of Colonel Bouquet with satisfaction. It was learned that the Indians had left the vicinity of the fort to march against Bouquet's troops only two days previous to the battle of Bushy Run.
The meeting between James Morris, Henry, Rodney, and Barringford was a warm one, but the news that Dave was missing saddened the trader greatly, while the information that Nell had been abducted, along with the twins, brought tears to Henry's eyes.
"Rodney, we must find Nell—and find Dave and the twins too," he said, huskily.
"I am willing enough, Henry," answered his brother. "But where are we going to look for them?"
"Dave must be somewhere in the vicinity of that battleground."
"True enough, but that locality is a perfect wilderness."
Rodney and Barrington were astonished to learn that Benoit Vascal was at the fort. The Frenchman had almost recovered from his illness, but he pleaded that he was very weak, doing this for fear Captain Ecuyer would otherwise make him do soldier's duty.
"I'm goin' to talk to thet Frencher," said Barringford, and lost no time in confronting the man.
"Vat you vant of me?" asked Vascal, suspiciously.
"I reckon as how your name is Benoit Vascal," began the old frontiersman.
"Yees."
"I've been a-huntin' you for some time. You stole a couple o' children onct—pair o' twin boys."
At this announcement the Frenchman started.
"Zat—zat ees not so," he stammered. "I know noddings of ze children."
"It won't do no good to lie," interrupted the old frontiersman, sternly. "I've heard the story, an' it's true. I want to know the full names o' them twins."
"I not steal zem children," cried Benoit Vascal. "Paul Camont, he steal zem."
"Who is Paul Camont?"
"Ah, who ees he? He ees not—no more. He vas eat up by ze wolves!"
"Was he the man who was killed on the road?"
"Zat ees heem. He run off wiz ze children—it ees big snow—he miss ze way——"
"Yes, I know."
"Ha! So! Who are you, I vant know?"
"I'm the man ez found them twins when this 'ere Camont war chewed up. Now then, out with it, what's the name o' them youngsters, speak up, or sumthin' a-goin' to happen to ye putty quick!"
As Barringford spoke he caught the Frenchman by the arm. The clutch made Benoit Vascal shiver.
"Stop, I beg! I vill tell! Ze children, dare name ees Hamilton."
"Hamilton?"
"Yees. Fadder, hees name is Maurice Hamilton. He ees an Englishman. I not know vere he ees now."
Having confessed so much, Benoit Vascal told the remainder of his story to suit himself. He insisted upon it that Paul Camont and not he had taken the twins. He said both he and Camont had had trouble with Maurice Hamilton over some American lands. He did not think that Hamilton was in America. He had been over, but had returned to London nearly a year ago.
"Well, thet settles one thing," said Barringford, when he rejoined his friends. "Them twins is named Hamilton, an' their father's fust name is Maurice. Ef he's in London, all we can do is to write to him."
"Do you believe this Vascal?" asked Rodney.
"I do in part. But I kind o' reckon he had as much to do with stealin' the twins ez thet Paul Camont."
After that Barringford and James Morris talked the matter over with Colonel Bouquet and Captain Ecuyer, and as a result it was decided to detain the Frenchman at Fort Pitt, at least for a few weeks.
All was now bustle and excitement at the fort, and it was not long before it was decided to send out a body of rangers, to see if any Indians were still in that vicinity. With the rangers went Mr. Morris, Barringford, Rodney, and Henry, all anxious to see if they could learn anything concerning Dave.
Two days were spent roaming the vicinity of the fort, and only two Indians were discovered, both badly wounded. Then the rangers separated into two parties, one going northward and the other westward.
"That other party will come close to our trading-post," said Mr. Morris, to Henry. "I hope they make the Indians and the French run away and leave our goods behind them."
The night that followed brought on the storm already described in the previous chapter. As the rangers had no shelter they soon got wet through, and had to build a camp-fire by which to dry themselves.
"I don't know if it's quite safe to build a fire," said James Morris. "But if the men want to dry themselves we'll have to risk it."
A guard had been put out, while the others slept, and about two o'clock in the morning came an alarm that brought everybody in the camp to his feet.
"What's the trouble?" came from several.
"Saw an Injun, just over thar!" cried the guard.
He had scarcely spoken when from a distance came a rifle shot, followed by another. Then an Indian burst into view, carrying a little white girl on his shoulder.
"White Buffalo and Nell, as I live!" came from James Morris's lips. He ran forward. "Nell, don't you know me?"
"Uncle Jim!" cried the girl. "And oh, there are Henry and Rodney, and Uncle Sam! Oh, I must be dreaming!"
"Here is Dave!" cried the trader, and he ran forward to meet his son. "And one of the twins!"
"And here is the other twin!" said Barringford.
There was no time, just then, to say for additional rifle shots could be heard. The Indians from the village were following up White Buffalo's warriors, and the latter were doing their best to hold them back, and thus cover the flight of their chief and Dave, with the children.
"Give it to 'em!" cried Barringford, as soon as he understood the situation. "Pepper 'em hot!" And as the nearest of Moon Eye's warriors came into sight the rangers fired a volley which laid three Indians low. The rest halted, and darted behind the trees.
"We must do our best to get back to the fort," cried James Morris.
"Wait till we count up this crowd that has attacked us," urged Rodney.
A moment later some additional Indians came into view, and then the whites and their red allies took up the retreat towards Fort Pitt. They kept up a constant shooting, and this noise at length reached the fort and caused Colonel Bouquet to hurry out a company.
"The regulars are coming!" cried Dave. He was almost exhausted from running and fighting.
"Thank God for it," murmured James Morris. "They cannot get here too soon."
As the soldiers came forward they shouted loudly, and hearing this, Moon Eye gave his warriors orders to be cautious. Then the regulars bounded to the front, and at the first volley from the gallant Highlanders the enemy fled back to the lake and then to their village. On the following morning, fearing another attack by the English, the village was moved many miles to the westward.
"The battle is over," said Henry. "And I am not sorry."
"Is everybody safe?" asked Rodney.
"Reckon as how they are," answered Barringford, with a look around.
"Then that is a good deal to be thankful for," said Dave, soberly.
Here let me add a few words and then draw to a close this tale of "The Fort in the Wilderness."
As they journeyed to Fort Pitt, Dave told his father and the others of his adventures since being made captive by the Indians, and heard the story of the attack on the trading-post and how it had been captured by the Indians and Jean Bevoir.
"Now that the Indians have been defeated we ought to try to get the post back, father," said the youth.
Dave was much interested in the story about the twins and was willing to believe their name was Hamilton, because of the documents he had read. In the excitement of escaping from the Indians he had lost the papers and he had no idea what had become of them.
"They were certainly valuable," he said. "But whether they belonged to Benoit Vascal or Maurice Hamilton, or somebody else, I do not know."
When they arrived at Fort Pitt they found that Benoit Vascal was missing. Watching his chance, the Frenchman had bribed a pack-driver to let him have some provisions and a horse, and had set out for parts unknown.
"That's too bad," said Dave. "We might have learned something more from him about the twins. But we know their name, and that is something."
"And we can send a letter to London, to Mr. Maurice Hamilton," added Rodney.
A day later the rest of the rangers came in. They said they had not gotten as far as the trading-post, having journeyed to the southward.
"Father, let us organize a company to go out to the post," said Dave. "I think we can get quite a number of rangers to join us."
The matter was talked over, and in the end a company was organized with James Morris at its head, to march westward and try to retake the place. At the same time Sam Barringford, aided by White Buffalo, started out to see if they could not find Benoit Vascal. In another volume, to be entitled "Trail and Trading-Post; or, The Young Hunters of the Ohio," we shall meet all our friends again and learn what was done towards recapturing the post on the Ohio, and in bringing Jean Bevoir to justice, and also something more concerning the mystery of the twins.
During the days spent in resting at Fort Pitt came cheering news from Fort Cumberland. Matters around that place had quieted down greatly and some of the settlers had started in to farm once more. Joseph Morris was feeling better. It had been definitely settled that White Buffalo had had nothing to do with the killing of the Diglys.
"I'm glad for your sake of this," said Dave, to the aged Indian chief.
"White Buffalo glad, too," was the quiet answer. "Want to be good friends with all the English."
"It was good of you to give Nell those beads," went on Dave. "They certainly saved her life."
"White Buffalo think so, maybe, when he give beads," said the Indian. "No want to see his little queen die."
"You're the best Indian in the world!" cried little Nell, and gave him a hug. "I wish they were all as good as you."
"If that were so, there would be no further fighting," laughed James Morris.
"Do you think this Indian war is over?" asked Rodney.
"No," said Henry. "Pontiac will do what he can to stir it up again." This proved to be the case, as later events showed.
"I'm glad we are together once more," said Dave, as they were resting on the following Sunday. "Won't the folks at home be joyful over the news?"
And they were joyful; and here, kind reader, let us bid each other good-bye.
THE END
By EDWARD STRATEMEYER
Author of "Pan-American Series," "Old Glory Series,""American Boys' Biographical Series," etc.
Six volumes, Cloth, Illustrated, Price per volume, $1.25
WITH WASHINGTON IN THE WESTOr A Soldier Boy's Battles in the Wilderness
MARCHING ON NIAGARAOr The Soldier Boys of the Old Frontier
AT THE FALL OF MONTREALOr A Soldier Boy's Final Victory
ON THE TRAIL OF PONTIACOr The Pioneer Boys of the Ohio
THE FORT IN THE WILDERNESSOr The Soldier Boys of the Indian Trails
TRAIL AND TRADING POSTOr The Young Hunters of the Ohio
"Mr. Stratemeyer has put his best work into the 'Colonial Series.'"—Christian Register, Boston."A series that doesn't fall so very far short of being history itself."—Boston Courier."The tales of war are incidental to the dramatic adventures of two boys, so well told that the historical facts are all the better remembered."—Boston Globe."Edward Stratemeyer has in many volumes shown himself master of the art of producing historic studies in the pleasing story form."—Minneapolis Journal."The author, Edward Stratemeyer, has used his usual care in matters of historical detail and accuracy, and gives a splendid picture of the times in general."—Milwaukee Sentinel."Told by one who knows how to write so as to interest boys, while still having a care as to accuracy."—Commercial Advertiser, New York.
"Mr. Stratemeyer has put his best work into the 'Colonial Series.'"—Christian Register, Boston.
"A series that doesn't fall so very far short of being history itself."—Boston Courier.
"The tales of war are incidental to the dramatic adventures of two boys, so well told that the historical facts are all the better remembered."—Boston Globe.
"Edward Stratemeyer has in many volumes shown himself master of the art of producing historic studies in the pleasing story form."—Minneapolis Journal.
"The author, Edward Stratemeyer, has used his usual care in matters of historical detail and accuracy, and gives a splendid picture of the times in general."—Milwaukee Sentinel.
"Told by one who knows how to write so as to interest boys, while still having a care as to accuracy."—Commercial Advertiser, New York.
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