The Frontier Angel. Edward Sylvester Ellis

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      "Yes, I see her—she is waving her hands. Hark!"

      [Pg 38]

       [Pg 39]"Keep off! keep off! You will all be killed! This man is a decoy!" called out the person alluded to in a beseeching voice.

      "Who is she?" asked Marian, growing more excited every moment.

      "Ah! she's the Frontier Angel. Haven't you heard of her? When she warns a white, he can depend on it she means what she says. This ain't the fust time she has done that thing."

      

The Frontier Angel.

      "O Jim!" implored Marian, "this is awful; tell them before it is too late. They cannot but heed you."

      The ranger hesitated a moment, as he remembered the cutting rebuff he had received; but the imploring voice of Marian, together with his own sense of duty, conquered. He turned his head and looked at the oarsmen. They had paused as the warning voice reached them.

      "What does that mean?" asked one.

      "That gal is the Frontier Angel that you've heard the boys talk about at the settlement. Ef any of you wants red night-caps, don't mind her; ef you doesn't, jest get back into the channel as soon as them oars will take you."

      "I've heard that that gal you call the Frontier Angel is nobody but a crazy squaw," said one of the oarsmen, still hesitating.

      "Go on, then," said Peterson, stung to the quick by this second repulse. "I shan't say no more," he added, in a lower tone, to Marian.

      "Didn't you know that gal is a crazy fool?" said the stranger, sneeringly. "Of course she is, and I thought you knowed it. Ef you're going to help that dyin' feller, you've got to be quick about it, 'cause the reds can't be far off."

      Thus appealed to, the oarsmen commenced, although it cannot be said all were free from misgivings. But in the face of the suspicious actions of the man upon shore, and the continued warnings of the Frontier Angel, the flat-boat gradually approached its doom. Several of the men already half-repented their rashness, and stood with their eyes fixed upon shore, and an expression of painful doubt upon their features.

      Peterson saw all these manifestations, and thus communed with himself.

      "No use of talkin', they're all goin' sure, and, Jim Peterson, the question is what you purpose to do. You can tend to yourself well enough, but how 'bout Marian? It won't do to leave her. You hain't forgotten, Jim, the time them same reds butchered your gal. No, Jim you never forgot that, and you never will; and how do you s'pose Mansfield will feel ef you leave his gal in the same fix? 'Twon't do, 'twon't do, Jim. Can you swim, Marian?" he asked, turning toward her.

      "Yes; why do you ask?"

      "It's what has got to be done, Marian. You see, we'll be inshore in a few minutes. Stick by me, and I'll take you overboard."

      "Why not now, Jim?"

      "You see it's getting dark fast, and every minute will help us. By the eternal! do you know that feller on shore? It is McGable! Hello! the boat has struck!"

      Such was the case, and what was more alarming they were but a few rods from shore. It was noticed, too, that the wailing tone of the decoy had changed to a more commanding one, while the Frontier Angel had disappeared.

      "What does this mean, sir?" asked one of the oarsmen, thoroughly alarmed.

      "You're my prisoners, sir!" replied the stranger. "Don't get excited—it's no use. That man is McGable, and the Shawnees are waitin' fur yer ha'r. Ef you undertake to fight, you'll be tomahawked in a minute; but ef you give in nice like, p'raps some of yer'll be let alone. Ef you've no objections, I'll give the signal for 'em to come aboard."

      All except Peterson were paralyzed with horror, and seemed utterly speechless. He stepped deliberately forward and said:

      "I'd like to ax a question afore you does that thing. What yer going to do with me?"

      "Burn and toast you as soon as we get ashore."

      "I rather reckon not, old hoss. How does that suit?"

      Before even his victim divined his intention, the ranger brought his rifle to his shoulder and fired, his ball passing clean through the breast of the villain. The latter gave a spasmodic start and gasp, a groan, and sucking the breath through his teeth, fell forward, the blood spouting in a stream from his wound.

      "Hyer's as opines as how it won't be you that'll toast Jim Peterson just yit," remarked the ranger, coolly fastening his rifle to his back.

      "O God! what shall we do?" frantically wailed the settlers.

      "Fight! you was so anxious to see McGable, you'll have the chance now. Ef yer'd a minded what me and the Frontier Angel said, you wouldn't got into this fix. It won't do no good to touch the oars. You're fast in the mud, and have got to fight it out!"

      Instantly the shore became alive with savages. Yells that might have curdled a demon's blood rent[Pg 43]

       [Pg 44]

       [Pg 45] the air, and the whole mass of swarming bodies plunged into the shallow water, and made for the flat-boat. The whites discharged their shots, but the numbers and power of their enemies were irresistible. Onward they poured, shouting like madmen, and clambering up the sides, a scene of butchery took place that sickens the heart to contemplate.

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