The Free Rangers | Page 6

All the little clouds swung together and made a big one
that covered nearly the whole sky. The air darkened rapidly. Thunder
began to growl and mutter and now and then emitted a sharp crash.

Lightning cut the heavens from zenith to horizon, and the forest would
leap into the light, standing there a moment, vivid, like tracery.
A blaze more brilliant than all the rest cleft wide the sky and, as they
looked toward the North, they saw directly in the middle of the flame a
black dot that had not been there before.
"He's coming," said Henry in the quiet tone that indicated nothing more
than a certainty fulfilled.
"Just in time to take a seat in our house," said the shiftless one.
Sol ran out and gave utterance to a long echoing cry that sounded like a
call. It was answered at once by the new black dot under the Northern
horizon, which was now growing fast in size, as it came on rapidly. It
took a human shape, and, thirty yards away, a fine, delicately-chiselled
face, the face of a scholar and dreamer, remarkable in the wilderness,
was revealed. The face belonged to a youth, tall and strong, but not so
tall and large as Henry.
"Here we are, Paul," said Shif'less Sol. "We've fixed fur you."
"And mighty glad I am to overtake you fellows," said Paul Cotter,
"particularly at this time."
He ran for the shelter just as the forest began to moan, and great drops
of rain rushed down upon them. He was inside in a moment, and each
gave his hand a firm grasp.
"We're all here now," said Henry.
"All here and ready for the great work," said Shif'less Sol, his tranquil
face illumined again with that look of supreme exaltation.
Then the storm burst. The skies opened and dropped down floods of
water. They heard it beating on the leaves and thatch overhead, and
some came through, falling upon them but they paid no heed. They sat
placidly until the rush and roar passed, and then Henry said to the

others:
"We're to stick to the task that we've set ourselves through thick and
through thin, through everything?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"If one falls, the four that are left keep on?"
"Yes! yes!"
"If three fall and only two are left, these must not flinch."
"Yes! yes!"
"If four go down and only one is left, then he whoever he may be, must
go on and win alone?"
"Yes! yes!" came forth with deep emphasis.


CHAPTER II
A FOREST ENVOY
A group of men were seated in a pleasant valley, where the golden
beams of the sun sifted in myriads through the green leaves. They were
about fifty in number and all were white. Most of them were dressed in
Old World fashion, doublets, knee breeches, hose, and cocked hats.
Nearly all were dark; olive faces, black hair, and black pointed beards,
but now and then one had fair hair, and eyes of a cold, pale blue.
Manner, speech, looks, and dress, alike differentiated them from the
borderers. They were not the kind of men whom one would expect to
find in these lonely woods in the heart of North America.
The leader of the company--and obviously he was such--was one of the

few who belonged to the blonde type. His eyes were of the chilly,
metallic blue, and his hair, long and fair, curled at the ends. His dress,
of some fine, black cloth, was scrupulously neat and clean, and a
silver-hilted small sword swung it his belt. He was not more than thirty.
The fair man was leaning lazily but gracefully against the trunk of a
tree, and he talked in a manner that seemed indolent and careless, but
which was neither to a youth in buckskins who sat opposite him, a
striking contrast in appearance. This youth was undeniably of the
Anglo-Saxon type, large and well-built, with a broad, full forehead, but
with eyes set too close together. He was tanned almost to the darkness
of an Indian.
"You tell me, Señor Wyatt," said Don Francisco Alvarez, the leader of
the Spanish band, "that the new settlers in Kaintock[A] have twice
driven off the allied tribes, and that, if they are left alone another year
or two, they will go down so deep in the soil that they can never be
uprooted. Is it not so?"
"It is so," replied Braxton Wyatt, the renegade. "The tribes have failed
twice in a great effort. Every man among these settlers is a daring and
skillful fighter, and many of the boys--and many of the women, too.
But if white troops and cannon are sent against them their forts must
fall."
The Spaniard was idly whipping the grass stems with a little