Read Online Manly Wade Wellman - Novel 1966 by Battle at Bear Paw Gap (v1.1) - Free Book Online Page A

other half,” Mark said, rising from the log. “I’m
glad that I got not so much as a scratch.”
                 “I
am glad, too,” said Celia. She sat on the log and clasped her hands around her
knees, looking across the yard with wide, troubled eyes. Mark carefully
examined his rifle in the last light of the day, and told himself that it was
spotlessly clean, inside and out. He began to load it again, very carefully.
                 “I
hope and pray that those savages have gone back to whatever place they came
from,” said Celia, but her voice suggested that the hope was a faint one.
                 “Come,
Celia, be of good cheer,” Esau rallied her.
                 “Aye,
you never were a coward,” Mark added, and he thought of how he had first seen
Celia Vesper, that very spring.
                 Mark
remembered the day of his first exploration into the unknown valley beyond the
height now named Jarrett’s Ridge; how he had looked down into the pathetic
little camp made by Celia for her two orphaned cousins, and how Celia herself
had toiled to break ground and plant a few handfuls of seed to give them food;
how he himself and Tsukala had made furtive visits to leave chunks of venison,
strings of fish, turkeys, where Celia could find them; and how Celia and the children
had been taken in and adopted by Mark’s parents. It seemed long ago, and at the
same time as though it had just happened.
                 “I
heard you telling Esau that you felt only gratitude that the perils of this day
were past,” Celia told him slowly. “I am glad for you, Mark, and though you
call me brave and say I do not flinch, yet I would be vain and foolish did I
not feel concern.”
                 “But
by now, those Indians have probably fled far away,” said Esau to comfort her.
“In any case, they won’t dare challenge us here in our homes. If they do,
they’ll have good cause to rue it sorely.”
                 The
three of them chatted more cheerfully as the evening became a soft autumn
night. They tried to avoid the subject of danger to their homes. Inside the
house, Mark’s father’s fiddle began to sing. Then Anne Jarrett called Celia,
and Celia rose and went in.
                 “Well,
Mark, shall we go and look at what Bram Schneider may be doing in the dark?”
prodded Esau.
                 “Aye.” Mark tucked his rifle under his arm and headed for
the road. Esau came after him and walked beside him.
                 They
moved on opposite sides of the road, habitually soft of foot. Each glanced
again and again into the trees to left and right. They came to where they could
see a wink of yellow light, from a window of the mill house, with lamp or
candle inside. Mark drifted across the road to where he could whisper.
                 “We
need look for no Indians abroad in the darkness,” he said, as softly as he
could. “Tsukala assures us of that.”
                 “No,
more likely they’re sitting together somewhere to plot and plan,” muttered Esau
back. “And I’ll warrant Bram Schneider will be with them, with word as to how
they may take us off guard.”
                 “Aye, if your suspicion of him be right.”
                 “We’re
out to learn if I’m right.”
                 They
walked on in silence. They drew near to the mill pond. Mark heard the soft
lapping of water against the lowered gate, and in the night he saw the loom of
the shed, with a lighted window facing toward the road. He touched Esau’s hand.
                 “Drop
back behind me, and make not a noise,” Mark directed. “We’ll stop where we can
see in at the window.”
                 He
stole along the road, to where the thick splits of logs bridged the stream from
the mill pond. He moved with care, lest the loose timbers creak. Esau