The Big Brother | Page 4

Whether they had been seen by the Indians or not, they had no way of
knowing, but their only hope of safety now lay in absolute stillness.
They crouched down together and kept silence.
"What's we gwine to do here, I wonder," whispered the black boy.
"Whar mus' we go, Mas Sam?"
Sam did not answer. He was too much absorbed in studying the
situation to talk or even to listen. The Indians were coming down upon
the white people from every side, and the only wonder was that Sam's
little party had managed to find a gap in their line big enough to escape
through.
"Be patient, Joe," said little Judie, in the calmest voice possible.
"Brother Sam will take care of us. Give him time. He always does
know what to do."
"Be still, Joe," said Sam. "If you talk that Indian'll see us," pointing to
one not thirty steps distant, though Joe had not yet seen him.
A terrified "ugh!" was all the reply Joe could make.
Meantime the situation of the fort people was terrible. Cut off from the
gates and unarmed, there seemed to be nothing for them to do except to
meet death as bravely and calmly as they could. A young man named

Isaac Harden happened to be near the gates, however, on horseback,
and accompanied by a pack of about sixty hounds. And this young man,
whose name has barely crept into a corner of history, was both a hero
and a military genius, and he did right then and there, a deed as brilliant
and as heroic as any other in history. Seeing the perilous position of the
fort people, he raised himself in his stirrups and waving his hat,
charged the savages with his pack of dogs, whooping and yelling after
the manner of a huntsman, and leading the fierce bloodhounds right
into the ranks of the infuriated Indians. The dogs being trained to chase
and seize any living thing upon which their master might set them,
attacked the Indians furiously, Harden encouraging them and riding
down group after group of the bewildered savages. Charging right and
left with his dogs, he succeeded in putting the Indians for a time upon
the defensive, thus giving the white people time to escape into the fort.
When all were in except Sam's party and a Mrs. Phillips who was killed,
Harden began looking about him for a chance to secure his own safety.
His impetuosity had carried him clear through the Indian ranks, and the
savages, having beaten the dogs off, turned their attention to the young
cavalier who had balked them in the very moment of their victory.
They were between him and the gates, hundreds against one. His dogs
were killed or scattered, and he saw at a glance that there was little
hope for him. The woods behind him were full of Indians, and so
retreat was impossible. Turning his horse's head towards the gates, he
plunged spurs into his side, and with a pistol in each hand, dashed
through the savage ranks, firing as he went. Blowing a blast upon his
horn to recall those of his dogs which were still alive, he escaped on
foot into the fort, just in time to let the gate shut in the face of the
foremost Indian. His horse, history tells us, was killed under him, and
he had five bullet holes through his clothes, but his skin was unbroken.
[Illustration: SAM'S PARTY.]
Francis and his followers were balked but not beaten. Retiring for a few
minutes behind the hill, they rallied and came again to the assault, more
furiously than ever. Their savage instincts were thoroughly aroused by
the unexpected defeat they had sustained in the very moment of their
victory, and they were determined now to take the fort at any cost.

Their plan of attack showed the skill of their leader, who was really a
man of considerable ability in spite of his fanatical belief in his own
prophetic gifts. He avoided both the errors usually committed by Indian
leaders in storming fortified places. He refused, on the one hand, to let
his men waste their powder and their time in desultory firing, and, on
the other, he decided not to risk everything on the hazard of a single
assault. His plan was to take the fort by storm, but the storming was to
be done systematically. Dividing his force into two parts, he sent one to
the attack, and held the other back in the hope that the first would gain
a position so near the stockade as to make the assault of the second, led
by himself, doubly sure of success. The plan was a good one, without
doubt, and no man was better qualified than Francis to