CHAPTER XVI
BACK TO WINCHESTER
At last the battle seemed to be at an end. Only a few shots sounded out and they came from a distance. The fire in the forest had died down and, thanks to an all-powerful Providence it had failed to give the Indians the success they had sought. It was true a number of the pioneers and soldiers had been badly wounded, but none were killed, while on the other hand seven redskins had been laid low.
All was in a hopeless confusion, and it was not until daylight came that Captain Tanner and the others succeeded in straightening matters out. Many of the women and children had fled into the forest and these had to be hunted up, while some of the pioneers had followed the enemy on their private account and did not return until they felt the Indians were sufficiently beaten back.
When Dave recovered from his forced traveling his first anxiety was for his uncle, who had fainted away from a fresh loss of blood. As well as he was able, the youth bound up the wound once more, tearing off a sleeve of his shirt for that purpose. While he was at work several alarms sounded close to him, and he held his breath, expecting to be discovered at any instant. But the Indians passed him on both sides with a speed that showed him they were now thinking only of retreat.
With the first streak of daylight he looked around him and at a distance discovered two rangers on horseback. They were rounding up the pioneers and their families and they readily consented to assist him all in their power.
"Reckon Mr. Morris is in a pretty bad way," said one of the soldiers. "The knocking around didn't do his wound no good."
"That's just the trouble," answered Dave. "But I did the best I could under the circumstances. I didn't want the Indians to scalp him."
"Oh, you did mighty well, lad—mighty well. Come, I'll take him up on my hoss."
The ranger carried the helpless man with care and soon Dave and his uncle reached the spot to which all the pioneers were coming. As soon as she caught sight of them, Mrs. Morris came running forward.
"Oh, Dave, how is he?" she questioned.
"Not any better, Aunt Lucy," he responded, soberly. "I think you'll have to keep him very quiet after this."
"Did you see anything of Nell?"
"No. Is she gone?"
"Yes. Henry and your father are out looking for her."
"It's too bad! I hope they find her soon."
Dave felt very weak and gladly partook of some soup which several of the women in the camp had made.
The youth was just finishing the repast when his father and Henry came back, looking much disheartened.
"Did she come back?" questioned both, and then as Mrs. Morris shook her head, not daring to trust herself to speak, James Morris continued: "It's too bad! I can't believe it possible that the Indians carried her off."
"Yes! yes! They must have carried her off!" sobbed Mrs. Morris. "My poor darling Nell! Oh, what will those wretches do with her!" And she burst into a flood of tears. Rodney had just come up, and all turned in to console her as best they could. Yet they could say but little to soothe her sorely wounded heart. Even Dave found the tears standing in his eyes, for he loved little Nell as much as if she were his own sister.
When it came time to count those who had been in the expedition it was found that two other girls besides little Nell were missing—twins named Mary and Bertha Rose, the children of a pioneer who lived fifteen miles to the north of the Morris homestead. Mrs. Rose was as grief-stricken as Mrs. Morris, and both wept together when they met.
"I shall remain behind to see if I can't find some trace of all the children," said James Morris.
"And I'll do the same," said Nelson Rose. "I would rather give up my life than leave my two girls in the Indians' power."
"Reckon as how I'll stay behind with ye," put in Sam Barringford. Although he never admitted it, little Nell was very dear to the old frontiersman's heart.
"White Buffalo will also look for little Brightface," said the Indian chief. "But he is much afraid the French Indians have carried all three of the maidens off."
So it was decided, and when the expedition moved off the three white men and the Indian with his followers were left behind. Captain Tanner and Lieutenant Baldwick were now pretty certain that the Indians would not make another attack in a hurry, and this was why he readily consented to spare them. Although he said nothing, Uriah Risley also remained behind, to see if he could not learn something concerning his wife.
Owing to the condition of the wounded the onward march to Winchester was now slower than ever, and when night came only half the distance to that frontier town had been covered. But a messenger had been sent ahead and now several wagons came out to carry in the disabled on the following day. This made the remainder of the journey less of a hardship for Joseph Morris, and while he did not improve neither did he seem to grow worse.
The news of the massacre, as it was called, had spread in all directions, and when the pioneers reached Winchester they found the post alive with many others who had come in from all points of the compass, some with all of their belongings and others with nothing but the clothing on their backs. As a consequence every cabin and house was filled to overflowing, and it was only by good luck that the Morrises obtained shelter at the cabin of an intimate friend named Maurice Gibson. Gibson himself was a trader like James Morris, and his wife Abigail and Mrs. Lucy Morris had been old schoolmates.
Joseph Morris was plaaed on a comfortable bed and without delay a surgeon was called to attend him. The medical man probed his wound and had it thoroughly washed, and then left a strong tonic as a medicine.
"I think he will recover before long," said the doctor. "But he must remain quiet until the wound is thoroughly healed. If not fever may set in and then I will not be responsible for the consequences."
"He shall remain here as long as he pleases," said Maurice Gibson. "And his family also;" and so it was settled.
Of course Mrs. Morris felt relieved to think that her husband would recover, but she could not forget her little daughter, and as she thought of Nell in the hands of the Indians the silent tears would course down her cheeks in spite of all she could do to stay them.
"It is awful, awful!" she said to Dave. "Oh, I would give my right hand to know that she was safe!"
"I'd give a good deal myself, Aunt Lucy," he returned. "But keep up your courage. Father, and Barringford, and White Buffalo will do all in their power to bring her back to us."
Two days of anxiety passed in the town and then it was reported that the majority of the hostile Indians had retreated in the direction of Fort Duquesne, to join the French located at that stronghold. Some of the regulars had followed a portion of the enemy and brought down three braves at what was called Three Posts. Among these Indians thus laid low was Crooked Nose, a half brother to Spotted Tail, a celebrated chief of that time.
"And still no trace of Nell," sighed Mrs. Morris, when the news came in. "Dave, did you hear anything of your father?"
"Not a word, Aunt Lucy."
"I hope he is safe."
"Oh, you can trust him to take care of himself—especially when Barringford and White Buffalo are with him. I think they'll bring us some certain news when they return."
But none of the party did return, and at the end of a week even Dave grew anxious. By this time Joseph Morris felt strong enough to do a little talking although he was not allowed to move further than was absolutely necessary.
Even though there were no telegraph lines in those days, it did not take the news long to travel throughout the length and breadth of Virginia and her neighboring states, and it was felt on all sides that that whole territory would not be safe from Indian and French raids so long as Fort Duquesne remained in the hands of the French.
"Give me the authority and men to march against that fort and take possession and our frontier will be at peace," wrote Colonel Washington. "But the longer we delay the more dangerous will this situation become to us." These are not his exact words but they are the gist of numerous communications which he addressed to those in authority over him.
Two weeks later James Morris came in, pale and careworn, having traveled a distance of several hundred miles in half a dozen directions, on a hunt for little Nell and the Rose twins.
"We found traces of them, but that is all," he said. " They are undoubtedly in the hands of the Indians, who are taking them either to Fort Duquesne or else northward to Lake Erie. I left Mr. Rose, Barringford and the Indians still looking for them. I was anxious to learn how it was going with brother Joseph and the rest of you."
"But you will go back—you won't give up the hunt so soon?" pleaded Mrs. Morris.
"Yes, I will go out again," answered Dave's father. "Just as soon as I can have one square meal and one good night's sleep."
The meal was speedily forthcoming, and the trader went to bed at seven that evening and did not awaken until noon of the next day. Then he declared that he felt as if he had been made new all over, and two hours later, bidding the others goodbye, set off to continue his search. It was a long while before Dave saw his father again.