Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1916-09-15
CHAPTER XIV.
The charae of the IIIInI.

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1t seemed a long time, yet 1t could
scarcely have exceeded a few mo-
tments, for the light of early dawn was
lstill aim and spectral, making those
savage figures below appear strange
and inhuman, while, through the tree
barrier, the more distant stockade was
little more thar a vague shadow. 1
could barely distinguish the sharp
pointed logs, and If any guard passed,
his movements were indisinguishable.
Had / not known where they were,
even the position of the gates would
have been a mystery. Yet l lay there,
my eyes peering through the cleft In
the rock, every nerve in my body throb-
bling. All had been intrusted to me;
1t was to be my signal which would
send D'Artigny, La Forest, and their
Indian allies forward. l must not fail
them; 1 must do my part Whatever
the cost-even though 1t be his life
nothing could absolve me from this
duty.
The Iroquois were massing toward
THE center, directly in front of the
Iclosed gates. The change in formation
was made with all the stealthiness of
Indian cunning, the warriors creeping
silently behind the concealing bushes,
and taking up their new positions ae-
|cording to motions of their chiefs.
Those having rifles loaded their weap-
lons, while others drew knives and TOM
lahawks from their belts, and held them
fsv1ftfarinr In tho 0-0u liObf Tho white
leader remained beside the big tree,
paying no apparent heed to anything
excepting the stockade In front. The
daylight frightened, but mist clouds
soverhung the valley, while floating
wreaths of fog drifted between the
great rock and the fort gates, occa-
Isionally even ~obscuring the 1roquois
in vaporous folds. There was no sound,
no sight, of those hidden below, wait
ing my word. / seemed utterly lone.
Suddenly staEted lifting myself
slightly on one ARM, so as to see more
clearly. Ay, the gates were opening,
slowly at first, as though the great
wooden hinges made resistance; then
the two leaves parted, and l had a
RllllU6t MlIli1As w oOAaACAo PooAOA
against the heavy logs, and, as they
opened wider, a dozen or more men
were revealed. leaning carelessly on
their rifles. Boisrondet, bearing gun
I'm the hollow of his arm, stepped for
ward into the opening, and gazed
carelessly about over the gray, mist
shrouded scene.
Tho own, oP fba rhffo raDoOado shot
into the air, and behind him the
massed %Iroquois arose to their feet,
crouching behind their COW ready to
spring. l reached over the rock edge,
and dropped the handkerchief.
I must have seen what followed, yet
l do not know; the incidents seem
burned on my memory, yet are so con-
fused I can place them in. no order.
The white renegade seemed waiting,
his arm appraised. Ere it fell in signal
to dispatch his wild crew to the slaugh-
ter, there was a crash of rifles all
about me, the red fare leaping into
the gray mist-a savage yell from a
hundred throats, and a wild rush of
naked bodies.
4 bdH WdIIlOIb VI Inc AOIhO4O A1h5
mp their arms and fall; 1 saw them
shrink and shrivel, break ranks and
run. Surprised, stricken, terrified by
the warwhoops of the maddened Him,
realizing only that they were caught
between enemies, their one and only
thought was escape. Two of their
chiefs were down, and the white rene
gade, stumbling and falling as though
also hurt, dived into the underbrush.
Before they could rally, or even com
prehend what had occurred, their as
E~ailants were upon them. Leaping
across the open, over rock and sand,
yelling like fiends, weapons cleaning
In the dull light, the frenzied Illini, en-
famed with revenge, maddened with
hate, flung themselves straight at
them. Rifles flashed in their faces,
tomahawks whirled in the air, but
nothing stopped that rush. Warriors
fell, but the others stumbled over the
naked bodies. I saw D'Artigny,
stripped to his shirt, and that in rags
from the bushes he had plunged
through, his rife barrel gripped, a yard
in front of them all / saw La Forest,
bare headed, and Sequitah, his Indian
stoicism forgotten in mad blood lust.
Then they struck and were lost In
the fierce maelstrom Of struggle, strik-
ing, falling, red hands gripping at red
throats, rife butts flung high, toma-
hawks dealing the death blow, knives
cleaning as sinewy arms drove them
home. l could not longer distinguish
enemy from friend; they were inter
locked, struggling like mad dogs, fight
ing as devils might a wild, tangled
mass of bodies, of waving hair, of
blazing eyes, of uplifted steel.