Follow the River by JAMES ALEXANDER Thom Read Free Book Online Page B

she got an arm around Georgie, and cooed to him as the horses moved off again. She tightened her stomach muscles as well as she could and gritted her teeth and the column turned northward away from the river’s elbow bend, climbing a steeply sloping ridge that led to the palisade’s crest. The path was closer to vertical than anything Mary hadever ridden; the horse lunged and stumbled and scrabbled for footholds, and Mary had to squeeze her legs with all her remaining strength and grab handfuls of mane to keep herself and Georgie from sliding back over the beast’s rump. Pray Bettie’s still got strength to hang on, she thought. “Tommy,” she called back, “hold tight, dear!” She couldn’t hear his reply over the clatter of hooves and sliding rock debris. Below, almost straight below, the river gleamed like dull pewter through the black foliage. The Indians were almost invisible now in the gathering darkness, but nevertheless swarmed sure-footed as panthers up the steep ridge.
    At last the slope became more gentle, then leveled, and they rode a few yards to the left into a deep wood that she reckoned must be on the very crest of the palisade.
    And then, on this precipitous height, the column stopped, and the Indians began unloading horses. A warrior appeared beside Mary’s horse and reached up and grabbed Georgie, who reacted with a moan of terror. Don’t cry, Mary thought; don’t cry out or he’ll pitch ye over the cliff! The Indian set the little boy on the ground, and said something to Mary. With a wheeze of effort she leaned back and raised her aching right leg over the horse’s withers, sat sideways for a moment praying her legs would support her, then slid off. She staggered and stumbled and held her ponderous abdomen when her feet hit the ground, but found her balance and stayed upright. Nearby, Bettie cried out sharply in the gloom, doubtless having hurt her arm in dismounting. Tommy’s voice warned, “Don’t die, Auntie Bettie!”
    Indians led the horses off somewhere, and herded the captives into a group on a jutting, scrub-covered promontory of the ledge, then stationed a single warrior to watch them. On three sides of the huddled hostages, sheer cliffs dropped away. On the fourth side the sentinel seated himself on a rock with his musket across his knees. As the last silvery-gray of the gloaming faded out over the horizon and stars appeared overhead, the rush of water over rocks could be heard from far below. Beyond this narrow place, there was nothing but night and space. The captives kept close together, intimidated by the nearness of the precipice, and whispered consolationsto each other. It was obvious that they were to be allowed no comfort but that of togetherness.
    “A paradise down there by the spring, and they choose an eagle’s nest for a camp,” Mary explained.
    “So ’tis,” murmured Henry Lenard. “A safe place from pursuit, that’s why.”
    “D’y’ reckon anyone is followin’ us?”
    “Not likely, I guess. Who’s to follow? Best as I could make out, they kilt Colonel Patton. I saw Jim Cull light out f’r the woods wounded, limpin’ bad,” said Henry. “That leaves but Will and Johnny and Casper to follow. An’ maybe Bill Preston an’ Phil Lybrook, who was down th’ creek som’ers, an’ maybe stayed safe.”
    “Not Casper,” Bettie sniffled. “I saw ’em cut him up. I saw …”
    “Let’s us have a look at y’r poor blighted arm, Bettie …” Mary said, scooting carefully across the rock and closer to her. “I been frettin’ about that all the livelong day …” She didn’t want Bettie to start recalling the massacre.
    “It’s broke here. Ow! Oh! I can’t stand touchin’ …”
    “Now, down at that spring, with water and a fire and a shred o’ daylight left, I could ha’ treated that up just sweet as c’d be,” Mary commented. “But here … well, got t’ splint it somehow, at least, darlin’. Mister Lenard, would y’be so kind as