CHAPTER V.
IN A TREE-TOP.
TheYankee looked hard at the gleaming orbs close to his own, and could just make out a dark body stretched along the limbs. He was far from liking the appearance of the affair. It might be an Indian, or it was just as likely to be a panther. If the latter, a struggle with him would bring the Indians upon him, whose footsteps already sounded along the bank. He loosened his knife in its sheath, though he well knew how powerless he would be in a tree-top, fighting against an animal which could light like a feather upon a bending bough and leap to another with all the quickness of a cat.
"Jehosaphat!" he muttered. "What'n thunder will I do now? I guess I'm gobbled 'up this time, shure. I wish I had a pike, I dew. Thunder and lightning, this ain't pooty."
The dark object upon the limb did not move, and there was no time to be lost. Seth determined to know what it was at all hazards. Thrusting his hand into his pouch, he drew out a box of punk, struck a spark and ignited the whole piece. As the light flashed up he caught a glimpse of an Indian, extended at full length along the limb. Dropping the fire he hurled himself downward, falling upon the prostrate figure and clasped his long arms about its throat tightly, with his bony knuckles pressed hard against the windpipe. So quickly was it done that the Indian had only time to utter a smothered cry before his breath was stopped completely. The limb bent and swayed under the weight of the heavy bodies, and they began to slide downward. A fall of twenty feet was not what Seth wished for, but, locked in the embrace of the savage, he could not help himself unless he let go his hold upon the throat, and then the cries of the Indian would bring his friends to the rescue. They slid down, turned completely over once, and fell with a dull sound upon the moss-covered knoll at the foot of the tree, the Yankee uppermost. A fall from that distance would have been likely to shock the savage some, but add to thatthe avoirdupois of a man weighing as much as this Yankee, and the damage is likely to be greater. All the remaining breath of the Indian went out like the flame of an expiring lamp, and he lay senseless under the body of Spink, who was somewhat confused by the fall.
"Dead, I guess," he muttered. "Teach him to tree inmyplace, the darned heathen. Ugh!"
Picking up the senseless body he threw it over a log out of sight, and then, instead of returning to the tree, he crept cautiously back toward the river. The Indians were scattered along the banks, and, just as he peeped out, a loud whoop announced the discovery of the canoe.
"That'll bring 'em together," said he to himself. "I guess we'd better put out for camp."
He turned to go back, when, to his utter surprise, from every direction the savages bounded out upon him and clung to him like cats. At this moment the wonderful strength of the athlete showed itself. Stretching out his long arms, he dragged the Indians who clung to him on either side from their hold, and dashed them to the earth, and then, placing his back to a tree, he drew a knife and hatchet, and braining a Wyandot who rushed upon him incautiously, sent his knife through the shoulder of another, while he planted his right foot with desperate force in the stomach of a third, doubling him up and sending him rolling to the earth with the life nearly kicked out of his body. At the same time he gave utterance to a terrific yell, which rung through the arches of the deep woods, rivaling the shouts of his assailants. With savage screams the Indians rushed at him from three sides, but those long arms and feet made deadly work among them, and though a dozen rushed at him together his desperate valor kept them all at bay.
There was a hearty shout and war-cry from the rear, and, the Dead Chief and Will Floyd rushed in, scattering the savages right and left. They reached the side of the Yankee, who was fighting with desperate zeal.
"Break for the canoe," he whispered, as he struck down an Indian. "It's your only chance."
Darting round the tree, and overthrowing the savages who barred their way, they reached the canoe, which still lay upon the shore. So sudden was the action that the Indianswere stupefied, and the brave trio gained a rod or so in advance before their foes started in pursuit. They had gained the canoe, the Dead Chief and the Yankee were already in it, and Floyd was following, when he fell by a hatchet hurled at him by Willimack. Seth would have turned back to aid him, but the Dead Chief seized the paddle and pushed off quickly, just as the Indians pounced upon the fallen man. A score of them plunged into the water, each with a hatchet or knife in his teeth, but the quick strokes of the paddle soon left them far behind. A useless volley from those on shore followed.
"Poor lad," said Yankee Seth. "I'm afeard he's gone under."
"The young soldier is very brave," replied the chief. "If he is not dead, he will die like a man. And now, hear the words of the Dead Chief. I swear by the grave of my father, by the totem of my tribe, that I will not go back to the village where my squaw and pappooses dwell, until the young war-chief is saved or I have avenged him. It is spoken; the Dead Chief can not lie."
"Good for yew, old man," said the Yankee. "I'm with yew threw thick an' thin. Thar's my hand on it. Shake."
The two woodmen clasped hands, while the canoe floated at will in the midst of the dark stream.
They lifted Floyd and dragged him up the bank into the bushes, where Willimack and Elskwatawa stood. He had been stunned at first by the stroke of the hatchet and was still dizzy and faint when he faced the chiefs. Their dark looks convinced him that he had little to hope from them. The death-wail was rising from the Indian band as they lifted the bodies of the fallen and laid them in a row along the bank. Four were dead, including the neighbor of the Yankee in the tree-top, and as many more desperately wounded. In such a melée as this, when a body of men assail a desperate athlete like the dreaded Long Man, some must get hurt. The cloud upon the face of the Prophet grew darker as, one by one, the dead were brought out, and Willimack uttered a snarl like a tiger as a man who had been his best friend was laid with the rest.
"It is finished then," thought Floyd. "They will revenge themselves upon me for the death of these men. I can only meet my fate like a man; but my poor father, my darling Madge! Oh, if the Skeleton Scout would but come now and scatter these fiendish knaves as he did at the stockade! I wonder if Yankee Seth or the chief were injured? Even if they are safe, what can they do against so many?"
At this moment the panther-call of which Seth had spoken came from the opposite bank of the stream. A faint hope came into the heart of the prisoner. The call was given to show that he was safe and would not desert him in the hour of need. Willimack advanced and looked in the face of Floyd with that vicious glance of triumph which small natures feel in the power they may gain over an enemy.
"Floyd," said he, "the white man can not have all his own way. To-night I was insulted in your wigwam—I, a chief of a great nation. I told you then that a chief never forgot, and that the day of revenge would come; behold it is here already!"
"Do not trouble me by too much talking, Willimack. I am in your power, it is true, but for all that you shall not force me to cringe to you, or to ask mercy at your hands."
"Waugh! Will you not beg for life from the Wyandot and Shawnee?"
"No."
"Listen. Was it you that cut the bonds which bound the Dead Chief to the tree?"
"It was."
"Good! That is another thing against you. Did you know that the Dead Chief was our prisoner?"
"Yes. That is the reason I set him free," replied Floyd, in an undaunted tone.
"It is well. You speak like a great brave, and had you lived would have been a great chief among the white men. But, the white men must cease from off the face of the Indian country. We love it too well to let the feet of bad men press it, and tread upon the earth where our fathers' bones are laid. The English are friends to us, and will not take our country; the Americans steal all."
"Do what you mean to do, and at once. I can bear any indignity you may heap upon me, as becomes a man."
Willimack stood aside, and the Prophet advanced. His dark face was working with passion, and he seemed to struggle to repress a desire to strike down the young soldier where he stood. His fingers clutched the handle of a hatchet convulsively, and now and then he half drew it from its sheath.
"Let Elskwatawa speak, for he is the great Prophet of the Shawnees. I see before me the dead of my tribe and one warrior of the Wyandots. They had hoped to live to fight many battles against the whites and again possess the land of their fathers. The Manitou came to me in a dream and told me that the time had come for the Indians to drive out the white dogs and take their own again. Therefore you see us in our war-paint to-day."
He paused and cast a wild glance about him which seemed to have a great effect upon the savages, and they uttered a wail of agony.
"But see," he cried. "They lie in their blood upon their own soil, and the man who killed them is in our hands."
A triumphant shout went up as he said this, and fierce looks were directed at the young soldier, who returned them by a glance of haughty defiance.
"The Indians deal justly by all," said the Prophet. "No man can die by their hands who is not worthy of death for some great wrong done to the nations. Warriors and chiefs, I have gone among the white men at Vincennes, and have spoken to the war-chief Harrison. The tears have flowed from my eyes when I spoke of the wrongs of my people; yes, my tears have fallen like rain. He is a man of iron, and I can not melt him. He cares not for us, but for his own people. You stood by, Willimack, when all the chiefs were seated and Tecumseh stood up like a child about to be punished. At last they saw how great an insult this was to the great chief. They offered him a chair; but the chief looked at them with scorn when they said, 'Your father offers you a seat!' 'My father?' he cried. 'The sun is my father and the earth is my mother. I will repose on her bosom.'[1]
"The chief will bear no more. The battle must be foughtand we will win again the lands of our fathers. We must not fail. The mortification of failure shall never be ours, and my great brother will not disgrace me by a mistake. I hear the warriors shout as they gather. I hear them in the South and East, in the North and West, with a sound like the summer leaves rising and rustling in the breeze. I hear their tread upon the mountains, by the silent rivers and in the green valleys. It is well. Shall Tecumseh tremble and shall Elskwatawa fail? No! The mountains and plains the Great Spirit gave us are around us, behind and before.
"I too have my warriors; and here, on the Wabash, on the Scioto, and on the broad waters of the North, my voice shall be heard for war."
He ceased for a moment, and cast a sad glance upon the bodies on the ground.
"There be our brothers, who had thought to take a part in this great battle to come. Their eyes are closed, their voices are not heard, their lips are pale, their ears hear no sound. What is this I see upon their faces? It is blood, the blood of the white man's shedding. And now, I think I hear a voice, speaking from the dead lips, and it says, 'Avenge me on my foes! My blood has been shed, and I can not cross the dark river until I smell the blood of one of the accursed race.'"
His eyes again fell upon Floyd, and fire seemed to flash from their depths.
"Who is this I see before me? His hands are red with blood. It is the blood of Negarish and Monado, of Cartain and Zeman. My brothers, let us light a fire and burn this white man, and then the souls of my brothers shall find rest and peace."
A wild cry arose from the assembled band, and they began to collect dried leaves and sticks from the surrounding woods, and pile them about the limbs of young Floyd after they had tied him to a tree. The pile rose until it reached nearly to his shoulders, and he felt that his last hour had come. He was brave enough to meet his fate, but it was agony to him to know that, when the flames had consumed his body, there would be no one left to protect his father, and Madge, whom he had hoped to make his wife when the autumn leaves wereyellowing in the sun. He began to suspect that when he was gone, Willimack would go back and storm the stockade. What then would be the fate of his father and that sweet girl he could not think. Madge was brave, he knew, but, would she have strength enough, when the hour of her great peril came, to save herself from dishonor with her own hand?
"Stand back," said Willimack. "Let the voice of a chief speak terror to the ears of his enemy before he dies. I am Willimack, chief of the Wyandot, and I am ashamed to be at the death of a child. I see water in your eyes, and I know you are weeping in your heart. You fear the pain which will come when the flames curl and the smoke rolls about you. Let the chief of the Wyandots speak. You know that you refused me the shelter of your dwelling when I came to it. The yellow-haired hunter struck me down and bound me, but I saw that the Bright Eyes looked sadly upon the disgrace of a chief. Good; the Bright Eyes shall make the fire bright in the lodge of Willimack."
Bright Eyes was the Indian name given to Madge by those who, from time to time, visited the cabin of the Floyds.
"Oh, red hound!" shrieked Floyd. "Oh, if I had dreamed half the villainy you had in your black heart, I would have killed you as you sat by my fire."
"The heart of a chief is not open to the eyes of a dull pale-face," replied Willimack, scornfully. "The Bright Eyes is very beautiful. Her voice is like the song of the birds when the summer sun is high. Floyd would have made a nest for her that she should sing for him alone; but Willimack laughs, for he knows that she can only sing in his lodge."
Floyd struggled manfully to break his bonds, glaring furiously at the savage who knelt at his feet, and, striking a flint and steel, began to kindle the flame. It burned slowly, for the leaves were damp. Again and again it smoldered and went out, but the Indian persevered until a little jet of flame leaped up. This he fed, leaf after leaf, until he had a little fire burning, apart from the pile, about the person of the young soldier. He took savage delight in prolonging the scene, and the Indians, understanding his motive, yelled in concert and danced wildly about the tree.
Willimack now took up a lighted brand, and with it touched the person of the prisoner in various places, laughing in demoniac glee when he shrunk from the contact. Others took the hint and followed the same amusement for some time, the young man bearing it bravely. They at length lit the pile, and the flames began to creep up about his person, and a thick smoke arose. He was dimly able to see through the smoke and flame, that the Indians were dancing and shouting all around, when a new cry arose, and he saw the Indians break and run in every direction, evidently in the greatest dread. Then the figure of the being known as the Skeleton Scout bounded into the open space. Seeing him closely, the young man could conceive of nothing more horrible than the ghastly head, blazing eyes, and tremendous hight of this strange being. "Oonah! Oonah!" was the cry of the Indians as they fled, and the next moment the brands were scattered and the young man was free!
"Stand here until you hear the loon-cry, and then make for the river, where your friends are waiting. Remember the Skeleton Scout!"
FOOTNOTES:[1]A fact.
FOOTNOTES:
[1]A fact.
[1]A fact.
CHAPTER VI.
A YANKEE RUSE.
Thestrange apparition was gone, and the next moment the loon-call sounded from the depths of the woods, mingled with cries which seemed to burst from a hundred throats. The young soldier bounded across the open space, and ran at his best speed toward the place where he had left the boat. Suddenly, without warning, two dark figures started up in his path and seized him, and he thought himself again in the hands of his enemies, when he heard one of his captors say, in a nasal tone not to be mistaken: "This yew, capting?" He had fallen into the hands of his friends!
"All right, Seth," he answered. "Get back to the canoe as quick as you can. The woods are alive with savages."
The Dead Chief led the way, and in a moment they wereagain in the canoe, and pushed off from the shore. The moon had gone down, and a darkness like Egypt had fallen on the river. The Dead Chief had taken the paddle, and, under the strokes of his vigorous arm, the light craft was shooting down the stream. The Pottawatomie knew his course well, and how much danger lay before them. Not a word was spoken, for they knew the virtue of silence. They must break through the cordon of their enemies at any and every hazard. On they went, the shadows dark about them, each grasping a weapon, and ready to defend himself to the utmost if attacked. They knew that by far the greater portion of the wild band had gathered about the death-fire, and yet they were certain that the Prophet was too able a warrior to leave the path to Vincennes clear.
"Back her a minnit, chief," whispered the Yankee. "I want tew speak tew the young 'un here."
By the skillful use of his paddle the chief managed to keep the canoe nearly stationary in the midst of the stream, while Seth bent forward and whispered to his young companion:
"Yew got away; heow did yew dew it?"
"By aid of the Skeleton Scout," replied Floyd, in the same tone. "Whatever he may be, he is at least a friend to us."
"He never hunts nothing but Injins,hedon't," said the Long Man. "Clever of him tew help yew, anyheow. Was they going to scorch yew?"
"The fire was lit already," replied the young soldier. "Ugh! my throat is dry by even thinking of it."
"A close shave!" chuckled the Yankee. "That Skeleton Scout is a darned nice ghost, by gracious. How many Injins below, think?"
"Seventy or eighty danced around me at the stake."
"Pooty dancers?"
"Can't say I appreciated their efforts."
"No? that's queer! Let her go on, chief. The men we've got tew tackle are waiting for us in themash(marsh). Git yure weepons ready, 'cause we are 'most thar."
Again the canoe glided softly down the stream, until it struck the marsh of which he spoke. It was a level bottom,where the soft soil had drifted down and been left, leaving scarcely room in places for a canoe to cross without grounding on the soft bottom. In this soil gigantic rushes had grown up, as we see them in our creeks when duck-hunting. These rushes rose above the water, to the hight of eight or ten feet, and stood so thickly together that, unless a man was well acquainted with them it would be impossible to force a canoe through. Of course there was a channel running through the marsh, but it was more than likely that the patrol canoes of the Indians occupied this water-course, and it would not be an easy task to get down, facing their weapons. The Dead Chief seized one of the rushes and held the canoe, and all bent forward to listen. Not a sound was heard except the sighing of the long blades as the wind rustled through them. If the Indians were watching, they knew enough to keep silent, and, for all the environed men knew, their foes might be lying within twenty feet of them.
The Dead Chief was acquainted with all the passes through the marsh, and had not for a moment thought of forcing a path through the reeds. The rustling they must of necessity make would apprise the lurking Indians of their vicinity, and put them on their guard. They were rather ready to trust to their woodcraft on shore, but they would have liked to find the exact position of the canoes of their enemies, before striking for the shore. But, though listening carefully, they could hear nothing of the red-skins, and determined to try the land.
The head of the canoe was pushed into a little channel which the Dead Chief knew ran close to the bank, at a good place to land. This was accomplished without a rustle, and Floyd leaped with the chief to the shore, closely followed by his Yankee friend. The canoe was left as of no further use to them, and pushed into the rushes out of sight. This done, the Dead Chief sat down on the bank, and drew his moccasins from his feet, and made Floyd understand by the sense of touch that he was to take off his boots, and put on these. Will hesitated to make the Indian go barefooted through the woods, but the Dead Chief took his hand and pressed it upon the sole of the bare foot. The moment his hand came in contact with the hard and callous foot, he understood that theIndian had a protection there which made a moccasin rather an object of ornament than use. He offered no further objection, but drawing off his boots, he left them on the bank, and put on the moccasins. He understood that the Indian thought the boot a poor thing for a scout to wear. The moment he was ready, the chief again took the lead, bending his body low, and keeping one hand on the ground, carefully removing every obstruction from the path which the less experienced soldier might step on.
Floyd followed, imitating his attitude, and betraying at once a keen sense of woodcraft, and the attributes of a scout. Not a stick cracked, not a twig bent. The Yankee who followed him was surprised at the celerity of his motions, and the quiet way in which he performed his part. Their course led directly away from the river, for they knew that they must make a wide circuit to get away from the Indians, who had doubtless lined the shore with scouts. It was only the extreme darkness of the night, since the moon had gone down, which had allowed them to pass the sentries unperceived. Seth had no doubt that, favored by the darkness, they already had passed one of the guard canoes, but there were two more. One was probably in the center of the marsh around which they were now describing a circle, and the other further down, though where it was, they could not say. Once out of reach of the river by half a mile, the Yankee gave a signal to the chief to wait, and they sat down together in the darkness.
"By jinks," he chuckled. "Had a right nice time of it so fur. I ain't enjoyed myself so mighty well this year. The pizon critters didn't sort o' kalkilate on finding us so foxy, did they? I hev all I ken dew tew keep from laffing rite eout when I think heow I walked intew them cussed thieves arter I tumbled eout of the tree with that ornery critter thatwouldhev that pertickler tree."
"I should think you would be afraid to talk so loud while we remain in danger," said Will Floyd.
"Ain't no danger here, Lord love yew!" replied the volatile scout. "It's glorious work fighting these cussid thieves! Now, look here; thar's lots of good Injins in this created airth, but thar's a pizon heap of bad 'uns. There's my friend, Dead Chief, now; he's what I call a good Injin. Andif you raally want a mighty bad specimen, yew jest take up Willimack or the Profit."
"That scoundrel Willimack threatened our family while I was tied to the stake. Do not let us dally a moment, my friend. Think of them I have left in danger—my old father and my darling Madge. He insulted her, most of all, for he designed for her a fate worse than death—a place in his lodge."
"He duz! Now look at me,yew. I'll never stop hunting that pesky critter until I've got his skulp or he's got mine. Take that pooty gal into his lodge, will he? Wants her for a squaw, duz he? Yew jest wait! He won't live to see it, bet yure life he won't! I'm so cussid mad I could hop rite over that tree-top. Oh, holy fly! Hold me, somebody, or I'll go charging back rite intew them Injins, and cut and slash and hack and hew. Oh, bu'st me all to pieces! Take my hat and stamp on it, somebody, I'm sodarnedmad. Litening strike me intew a blind nigger ef I ain't growed nigh a fool sense yew told me that. Come, let's git along. Ef old man Harrison don't rair rite up on his hind feet when I tell him this, then thar ain't no buffler on the prahary; not a darned buffler."
The party kept out from the river for a quarter of an hour, and then inclined again toward the stream. The Dead Chief still kept the lead, but all at once he stopped and dropped to the earth as suddenly as if he had received a ball in his bosom. The others followed his example and listened, and understood what it was which caused this hasty movement. It was the sound of human voices, just below them. The bank at this point was rather high, and crawling on their hands and knees to the edge of the bluff they looked down. The Indians who held this last guard-boat evidently were not trained warriors, for they had built a fire and were cooking some meat. To be sure, their fire was built in a sheltered nook and could not be seen from the river, but would have called down upon their heads the wrath of the Prophet, if he had known of it.
There they sat, six stalwart young warriors, grouped in various attitudes of ease and comfort about the fire, gnawing the flesh from the bones of a young buck which one of their number had brought down by a well-directed arrow. Theflame lighted up their bronzed figures and dark faces, and danced upon their waving plumes and beaded belts and moccasins. They were chatting in low tones over their feast, it being evident that they did not think it possible that the two whites—for they knew nothing of the Dead Chief—could escape from the hands of their companions above. But they had not reckoned upon the fertility of resource possessed by the Yankee scout. Long Seth touched his companions lightly, and they drew back cautiously at least a hundred yards from the dangerous vicinity, where they could converse with ease and not be heard by the Indians below.
"Ain't got much time tew talk 'bout it," said the Yankee. "What do yew say? Thar's six Injins, red with white blood. Shall we give 'em goss or not? If we lick 'em—I'd ingage tew lick the hull bilin' myself—we kin git the canoe tew ride tew Vincennes, and I'd ruther ride than walk, any time."
"I'm for thinning this band as much as we can," said Floyd. "There will not be so many to attack my father's stockade."
"Dead Chief is ready," said the Pottawatomie, in his short way.
"Good enuff!" replied Seth. "Waal, I'll creep down the bank below 'em and come up on the back. You two creep up in front, and jest ez soon as I give my loon-call, yew pick eout two of 'em and knock 'em over. Pick eout the biggest, they ginerally fight the best. I'll give a good account of number three, and then charge 'em like smoke. Them's the sentiments I express upon this momentous occasion. Now for it."
They separated, the chief and Floyd creeping cautiously to the front and making their weapons ready for a shot, and the Yankee moving away rapidly but silently to the left. After allowing five minutes to pass, they heard the loon-call on the river.
Lifting their rifles, each sighted a man and pulled trigger. Down went two of the savages, one shot through the brain and the other through the breast, and with a hearty border shout they grasped their smaller weapons and darted down the bank just as the weapon of Long Seth spoke and a third Indian uttered his death-cry. At the same time the Yankee appeared, and the three closed in upon their enemies, who, like rats in a trap, turned and fought like men.
Singling out an adversary, the determined whites rushed on. Dashing down the weak defense of his adversary, Seth struck him with his fist a blow which seemed to shatter his jaws, for the bones absolutely rattled as he went down.
"Take that, you red devil," he hissed, turning to seek a new foe. But, the struggle was already at an end. The Dead Chief had hurled his hatchet at his antagonist with the skill which only long practice in the use of that weapon can give, and he rolled to the earth, the bright bowl of the keen ax only showing through his skull. Will Floyd, at the expense of a slight flesh-wound in the arm, had buried his dagger in the breast of his own antagonist, and the struggle was over.
Seth knew that no time was to be lost, and darted for the canoe, though for what purpose the chief remained behind the young soldier could guess. When he joined them in the canoe he touched the soldier on the arm and offered him two bloody scalps.
"No, no," said Floyd, pushing back his hand. "I can not take them."
"Two for you, Long Man," said the chief, offering the others to the Yankee.
"I didn't hev time tew wait for 'em," replied Seth, coolly, taking the bloody trophies and thrusting them into his belt. "Thank yew all the same, chief. I reckon yew ain't used tew this sort of thing, cap.?"
"I confess I am not."
"Yew'll git over that. Climb intew the canoe and git hold of a paddle. I reckon we'll hev a hard time of it yit. I hear them devils up above coming down the rushes; hark! Du yew hear that?"
They listened and could hear the dip of paddles upon the river below. They had been mistaken in the number of their enemies after all, it seemed, and they had yet another patrol canoe below the rushes!
"Load up yure rifles, boys, and yew give the pistils fodder if they ain't full already, Will. This old thief, the Profit, meant business when he pitched on us. If we git threw it won't be for lack of head-work."
For some moments nothing was heard but the sound ofpreparation, as they loaded their weapons. Then the canoe, which was a large one, shot out into the stream, and Spink, who sat in the stern, caught up a heavy stone which lay on the bank and laid it in the bottom of the canoe, close to his feet. "Yew needn't mind the paddle jist yit, Will. Let the chief keep her stiddy, and put her rite on tew the other canoe, old man! I'll fix these heathen, yit."
The canoe was now only a few rods in advance, coming up under the full sweep of the paddles in the hands of half a dozen strong men. The morning was coming fast, but it was still too dark to distinguish faces.
"Put her straight for 'em," said Seth. "I'llshow 'em a trick."
As the two canoes neared each other, the Dead Chief shouted to the coming savages in the Indian tongue:
"Who comes?"
"Brothers," replied the voice of the warrior in command. "Have the white dogs been taken?"
"Who can escape the snares of the Prophet?" replied the Dead Chief.
"Are they dead?" demanded the warrior.
"Why should we kill them?" replied the Dead Chief. "Come back and we will see them burn by the same fire."
The canoes were now side by side, and the Indians were trying to peer through the gloom of the morning to make out the figures in the other craft, when Seth rose suddenly, and, uttering a wild cry, dashed the huge stone through their canoe's bottom, tearing a great hole, through which the water rushed in a torrent, and in a moment the Indians were floundering in the water, while the other canoe, impelled by the strong arms of Floyd and Dead Chief, passed on down the river. In spite of the toils which the Prophet had set about them, his prey had escaped.
CHAPTER VI.
THE AMBUSCADE.
Vincennes, on the Wabash, was the seat of government chosen by Harrison, as Governor of that territory. Here he was gradually collecting his forces for the coming struggle which he was assured must come, with the Indians under the control of Tecumseh and the Prophet. In the mean time his spies were everywhere gathering such information as they could of the position and designs of the enemy. In choosing these men, Harrison showed great knowledge of the Indian character, and for this reason his most trusted scouts were from that class of bordermen who, trained in border warfare, had also suffered loss at their hands. These he sent into the Indian country upon all sorts of pretenses, to collect information for future use.
Thus he learned who were lukewarm in the British cause, and therefore might be won over to the Americans.
Thus, when the struggle commenced, he knew upon whom to depend, and what he had against him. The Governor was at his own private residence when informed that the Pottawatomie, Dead Chief, and his companions, Captain Floyd and Long Seth Spink, desired to speak with him. He at once ordered them to his presence. Floyd was admitted first, and found the Governor seated at a small table, covered with papers and maps.
"Ah, captain," he said, "I am pleased to see you, although your leave of absence has not yet expired. I don't see what brought you here ahead of your time. You surely can not have had a quarrel with Miss Madge?"
"No, your excellency. Far from that, but the family are in great danger."
"Ha! In what way?"
"The Indians are on the war-path."
Harrison started up eagerly. "By heaven, I thought so. Who are their leaders?"
"The Prophet and Willimack are with the party we met."
"Give an account of the affair in few words."
Floyd commenced with his meeting with the Yankee in the morning, and the attempt of Willimack to enter the stockade, and told the story up to their entrance into the town.
"Then there is not a moment to be lost. Take out your company of the rangers and as many more as you need, and march up the river to the stockade. How far do you call it?"
"About twenty miles."
"Very good. Get your men under arms. Take the Dead Chief with you as a guide, and I will let this man Spink go also. You may send him to me at once."
"The Dead Chief?"
"Seth Spink."
"Oh; do you know him, then?"
"I have heard of him," replied Harrison, with a slight smile. "This action on the part of Willimack is premature, it is evident, and I am certain that the Prophet is not pleased with it, nor do I think Tecumseh knows any thing about it. Send Spink to me."
Floyd went out into the next room, but the Governor followed him to the door, and, speaking with marked kindness to the Dead Chief, told him to go with the captain as guide. Then beckoning to the scout, he again entered the room. The Yankee followed him, closing the door after him. They remained closeted in the room for more than an hour, when the scout came out with a hurried step, and went down to the river-side, where the company of Will Floyd, consisting of nearly a hundred men, were under arms.
"Ha, Spink, my good fellow, hurry up," shouted the captain. "Death, man, do you not see that I am impatient?"
"No use to hurry now, cap," replied Seth. "My father died in a hurry. Ef he'd taken time tew think about it he needn't hev died at all. But, he got it intew his head he couldn't live, and so he went off without thinking. He won't dew that ag'in."
"Is this a time for jesting, sir?" said the captain, angrily. "Take your place. Fall in, men. By fours; trot!"
They set off at a rapid pace, and rode along the river-side beneath the bending branches, heavy with the morning dew. The birds sung in the laden branches, as if a thought of bloodor battle never could or would disturb their grand old woods. But, the heart of young Floyd was heavy, for he feared that Willimack would make good his threat of the night before, and attack the stockade before his return. The men shared his fears, and a shade of doubt once or twice crossed the face of the Yankee, but he kept up a good heart, singing snatches of old songs now and then in a quaint way, which caused a smile among the ranks. But, before they had gone five miles his mood changed, and he began to glance quickly from side to side as if expecting an enemy. On they went through the oak openings until the woods began to thicken, when the Yankee bent in his saddle, and whispered in the ear of the captain.
"No, no," said Floyd, testily. "They have retreated, I tell you. They will not risk an encounter now."
"But I think I'm right, fer all that, cap."
"It is impossible. You do not know my rangers, or you would not think the Indians capable of resisting our march."
"I don't believe that the Prophet would fire a gun at a white man, dew yew?" said the Yankee, with a quizzical look. "Cum mi'ty nigh scorching yure legs last night, though."
"He is capable of any small villainy like that," replied the captain. "But, he certainly is too able a warrior to commence before his plans are ripe."
"It's forced upon him, cap. He knows that we've got clear, and that both yew and the Dead Chief are aware of his hostility, so he can't wait. You'd better ride a leetle grain more keerful."
"Nonsense."
"I ain't used tew being talked tew that way, cap. I'm a strange critter, yew know. I dunno heow it is, but I've got a sort of sneaking notion I know something 'bout Injin fi'tin'. Come; order the men tew pull in, and don't make quite so much noise in the ranks."
"You take a great deal upon yourself, friend Spink," said Floyd, with a light laugh. "Perhaps you had better lead the company yourself, as you seem inclined to take command."
"See what it is tew be young," muttered the Yankee, with an appearance of great vexation. "Yew'll force me tew dew something I don't want tew, cap. Now, look here; yew ain'tgoing tew ride intew yonder narrow path, are yew, without sending out scouts?"
"What would you have me do, sir? You know as well as I do that it makes the road three miles longer to keep in the oak openings."
"S'pose it duz? Yew don't want to lose half these nice-looking boys, dew yew? Come; take good advice, and don't go threw them woods."
"I will ride directly forward without turning out of my course for a mere scarecrow cry from you."
A dark frown crossed the face of the Yankee, and he pulled hard on his bridle and left the ranks.
"Go on then, if yew will. Bet yew forty dollars yew don't go fur."
With an angry exclamation Floyd put spurs to his horse, and calling to his men to follow, dashed into the woods. Scarcely had he done so when there was a rattling volley of musketry, and several saddles were emptied, while high and wild above the rattle of the small-arms, rose the gathering cry of the forest banditti. Dark forms glided from bush to bush, and the young captain saw his error. Entangled in the thick woods they must have been lost, but for his prompt action. Snatching a bugle from the hand of a musician, he sounded the call to fall back, and, taking their wounded comrades—for the rangers would not leave them—they hastily retreated, and sheltered themselves behind the bushes in front of the woods and looked after their wounded comrades. Some of the savages showed themselves for a moment, but a volley from the rifles of the rangers quickly drove them back, and they waited for a new advance on the part of the horsemen.
Floyd cast a sidelong glance for the Yankee, but he was gone. In the melée he had taken his horse and slipped away, no one knew whither. Angry with himself for his error, Floyd sent the wounded men back to the village and buried the single dead man in the path, riding over it with the rangers several times so that the Indians could not find and mutilate the body. This done he took a widedetour, leaving the woods on his right, and set off at the best rate of speed for his home. Three miles on the way they met the Yankee coming back with a look of sorrow on his face.
"I couldn't wait tew see it, cap.," he said. "How many of the boys went under?"
"One," replied the captain, sorrowfully. "You were right, Seth. I ought to have kept out of that trap. I know it now, but, that will not atone for my folly. But, think what I feel now when I tell you that it would be a kindness in you to shoot me through the head."
"No," replied Seth, slowly. "I don't think that would pay us, principally because we kain't afford tew lose yew, and yew'll take advice next time. I've been out scouting a little in advance. Ride a little to the front and I'll tell yew what I've found eout."
They quickened their pace, and the Yankee bent in his saddle and said in a low voice: "Willimack hez been over the road since last night."
Floyd started violently, and his face grew pale. "How do you know that?" he cried.
"I kan read Injin sign," answered the Yankee, calmly. "Thar's another thing. I believe the critter they call the Skeleton Scout is arter Willimack."
"Why?"
"'Cause I've seen his sign. Ef he's a ghost, then he's a mighty heavy one. Why, he's got a foot bigger'n mine, ef I kin judge by his trail. Now mind, I don't say he's a human; sartin he don't act like one; but yew bet all yew'r worth he don't like Willimack, or heow in natur' would he chasehimup the way he did last night."
"But my father; my dearest Madge!" moaned the unhappy young man. "Oh, why did I ever leave you?"
"'Twould only hev been tew more sculps ef we had been thar," replied the Yankee. "Now, I'll tell yew what I think. Willimack turned back with his own warriors arter the Skileton Scout set you free, and put out fer the stockade."
"I am afraid you are right. Let us press on as quickly as we can."
"No use of that. If he did turn back, and I'm pesky 'fraid he did, all we kan do won't bring us thar in time. I'm afeard the old man didn't half understand his danger, nuther, and was keerless arter we went away. Here, order yure men to close up. Them Injins are behind us now, but Ireckin they won't leave a stick or stone standing along the Wabash, now that their blood is up."
The rangers closed up. They quickened their pace, and, late in the afternoon, began to near the clearing in which the settler had built his house and stockade. As they entered the clearing, a heavy smoke was seen to rise toward the summer sky, and, uttering a cry of agony, the young soldier spurred quickly forward, to see what he had most feared and yet had hardly dared to hope had not happened—his father's house in ruins, and still smoking, though the flames had nearly gone out! It was a terrible scene of desolation, but one all too common in the history of these Indian wars.
The rangers surrounded the blackened walls. In some places the fire had lost its power over the walls from their green state, and they still stood, though blackened and half consumed. The house itself had fallen, and the charred rafters lay among the smoldering embers of that once happy home. The desolation did not stop here, for there, in the opening between the stockade and the house, lay the bodies of the two soldiers, who had been killed and scalped and horribly mutilated.
"Poor Lefebre! unhappy Forbes!" said the young soldier. "Yours was indeed a sad, sad fate. God in his mercy take you in his keeping! But, where is my father?"
They searched here and there, and, at length, half hidden by a heavy beam which had fallen upon their lifeless bodies, they found the murdered forms of the three negroes, like the soldiers, scalped and gory. All the indignities which savage ferocity could invent had been heaped upon the wretched men who had here met their fate. Floyd was ghastly pale, and reeled in his walk like a drunken man as the five bodies were drawn out into the open space and laid down, side by side. One of the soldiers dismounted, and, taking his blanket from his saddle, and begging another from a comrade, covered the lifeless forms from the public gaze. The Yankee, whose face seemed twitching convulsively, looked fiercely about him as each new exhibition of savage spite showed itself.
"Why don't you help me, Seth?" said Floyd, feebly.
"Idon'tknow. I'm sartin of one thing, and that is that Miss Madge would kill herself if she could to keep herselfout of the hands of them pizen critters. It's awful, awful! Move round, boys, and look fer the capt'in's father. Be alive, men, and don't look so scared. I don't blame yew, poor lads, when tew of yure comrades are gone. And then, them black boys and the old lady. Here, take hold of these rafters and throw 'em off. Mebbe the old gentleman is underneath."
They tossed aside the still smoldering rafters and yet found nothing. The floor was only partly burned. The Yankee threw off a trap-door which had led into the cellar, and looked down. He could see nothing as yet, for a mass of dense smoke was rolling slowly upward from the cellar and he stood aside until this passed off, and then descended.
"Hurry!" he cried, at length. "I've got somebody. Two of you boys come down."
Down two of the rangers leaped, and in a few moments' time reappeared, bearing a body to the surface. It was found to be that of an Indian, who evidently had been killed by a pistol bullet. The rangers kicked the senseless form to one side just as the face of Seth appeared at the opening.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"It's a cussed Injin," answered one of the rangers.
"Darn him," roared Seth. "Raise his ha'r, some of yew, while I go down ag'in. I'm sartin I'll find somebody down here."
He disappeared again. By this time the smoke had passed out and he could see plainly. Upon the cellar floor was a track of blood, which led into the large drain in the corner. Following this trace, the Yankee stooped and saw that the feet of a man were just within the drain. He seized upon the feet and drew him out, and showed the bloody form of Mr. Floyd, senseless from a hatchet wound in the head, but breathing heavily, like one in a trance.
CHAPTER VIII.
TECUMSEH.
Thebody of the wounded man was carefully borne to the surface, and the young soldier, with a cry like a wolf seizing his young, lifted the beloved form in his arms, carried it out of the stockade and laid it upon the grass outside. The old man breathed heavily, and Floyd looked up with hope imprinted on every line of his young face. But, the Yankee was downcast in expression, and stood leaning against the wall of the stockade, at times striking his hand against it.
"Bring water, boys," cried Floyd, anxiously. "Water, water."
Two of the men hurried down to the spring with their canteens and brought them up full. The captain took one of these and washed the ghastly wound upon the skull and showed that it was fractured.
"Oh, heaven," cried the son. "My father, my dear father. Was it for this that I left you last night, to find you here, murdered by the hand of brutal savages? But he lives; you can see that, Seth. A little care might save him."
"Oh, he'lllivefast enough," said Seth, gloomily. "It isn't that. I've seen that kind of a hurt afore and they ain't no good. Let me see what I can do, and while I am doing it, yew go and look arter the gal."
Floyd started up eagerly and hurried away, while the Yankee kneeled at the side of the wounded man, and looked at the wound, shaking his head. "'Twill be a pity for him if he does live, poor man," he muttered. "In course he'll be crazy while the bone presses down into the brain that way. Poor old man; I'd do any thing to save him, but I daren't touch that wound. It looks a little tew bad fur me to handle. Thar; he's coming round."
As he spoke, the eyes of the old man opened slowly and he stared vaguely about him like one in a dream. Sethtapped his forehead significantly and pointed at him, and the men understood. "Cracked," muttered the scout. "I know'd how it would be. Thar, old man. How dew yew feel?"
"Why don't you stop that horrible noise there?" demanded Floyd, angrily. "I won't have it in my house, you know. Silence, and listen to my orders at once."
"That's right, captaing. If any of them refuse to obey, you'd better order him forty lashes."
"What does he grin at me for?" cried the wounded man, starting to his feet. "What does he mean by it? Does he know that I am master here?"
"Of course he does," replied the Yankee, quietly. "He won't be quiet unless he gets forty lashes, I'm afraid."
"I don't know what's the matter with my head," said the old man, gravely, putting his hand up. "Didn't I fall somewhere?"
"Oh, yes," replied Seth. "You fell into the cellar. Don't you remember?"
"I believe you are right," said the captain, looking fixedly at the blood upon his hand. "Look at this now; my hand is exactly the color of a fellow I had some trouble with this morning, and I was forced to shoot him. I didn't like to do it, but I had to. Then I fell down and hurt my head, and it feels rather light."
"Yes, that fellow won't trouble you any more. Here is your son coming. Don't let him know that yure head is light or it will make him feel badly."
"He looks like a boy of mine," replied the demented man, looking at his son, who was approaching rapidly, overjoyed at seeing his father on his feet, although he had found no trace of his affianced. He ran to his father and took his hand eagerly.
"My dear father, you can not tell how overjoyed I am to find you so little injured."
"There, there," cried his father, pushing him back with his left hand. "I think you are getting too familiar."
"Father!"
"I allow no liberties taken with me, young man. I killed a red fellow this morning for this. By the way, do you know that I would like to get very drunk to-day in honor of theconjunction of the planets in their separate orbits? Venus is a particular friend of mine. I met her at a ball. No—where did I meet her? Where did you get that hat?"
"Seth, what does this mean? I do not understand this. Why does he act so strangely?"
"That is the funniest hat, as I'm alive," said the old man, laughing. "Why will you wear such an absurd thing, young man? I wish you would take pattern by me."
"Father, where is Madge?"
"Madge? Who is Madge? Oh yes, I know. A little rosy-cheeked creature that used to live here, on sufferance, mind you! Well, a red fellow came along yesterday—was it yesterday?—I don't remember exactly—and I gave her to him. She was no manner of use to me, so I thought I might as well part with her, as the red fellow really seemed to want her."
A look of agony came into the face of the young man. "This is horrible. He demented and can give us no information in regard to my dear Madge. What shall we do?"
"He must be sent down the river at once, for a doctor is what he wants. But, I don't see how it can be done. The woods are full of Indians."
"Let the Dead Chief speak," said the Pottawatomie, advancing. "Let me take him to my lodge, and the young war-chief can bring the medicine-man to my lodge. The Gray Hair would not live to go to Vincennes."
"I believe the chief is right," said Floyd. "Oh, my poor father, how it grieves me that you should be reduced to this piteous state."
"I would like to know what all this talk is about," said the old man. "I don't understand you at all. What does this man want?"
"Come and dwell in the wigwam of the Dead Chief," said the Pottawatomie.
"I really feel obliged to you, but I have so much business."
"You may make a good trade if you go there," said Floyd, though it made his heart ache to aid in deceiving his father. "We think you ought not to have given Madge to that red fellow you speak of. Which way did he take her?"
"How should I know? I fell into the cellar before shewent away, and hurt my head. Well, if he cheated me, then the bargain is off. I'll go with this other red fellow and see about it."
They found a canoe at the landing, put him in it, and, with the chief and two of the dragoons for a guard, he set off up the river, while his son, affected almost to tears by his melancholy state, stood upon the bank watching him until he disappeared around a bend in the river. As he turned away they heard an ominous sound among the men, and the click of pistol-locks, as an Indian came out of the woods and advanced into their midst. A man of large size, with a lofty and commanding appearance, richly dressed for an Indian, and wearing a wampum-belt which denoted a chief of great rank. Half a dozen pistols were leveled, knives were half drawn from their sheaths, and the threatening murmur was deepening, when Yankee Seth threw himself between the weapons and the chief.
"What yew going tew dew? Don't yew know the great sachem? It isTecumseh!"
"Tecumseh!"
The leveled weapons were dropped in an instant, and every one looked at the commanding figure of the chief, as he gazed in evident surprise at their hostile attitude.
"What is this?" he cried. "Do they level their weapons against the heart of so great a chief as Tecumseh when he comes to them with open hands?"
A louder murmur rose as the rangers pressed in upon him. "He is the chief." "No, no, do not harm Tecumseh." "He knows all about this villainy, and at least can punish the red devils who did it."
In the midst of all the chief stood firm, his eyes fixed upon the swaying mass of the rangers, flashing angrily at their attitude toward him. Once or twice his hand strayed to the hilt of a weapon, and he half drew it from its sheath, but the Yankee threw forward his rifle.
"Neow, see here, men. I'm a plain sort of feller, and I talk plain tew. Look eout what yew dew, fur, as sure as yew take a step tew hurt the chief, yew git me in yure ha'r! He cum among us in good faith, and by vum he shall go away safe."
"Down with your guns, men! What one among you has suffered greater wrong at the hands of the Indians than I have? The chief is innocent of all this bloodshed, I fully believe. Tecumseh, you have come among us in a bad time. Do you see yonder smoking ruins, and can you tell whose hands did the fatal deed? I warn you that I am not in a good temper to-day, but for all that I would not see wrong done you."
"The heart of Tecumseh is very sad," said the chief, laying his hand upon his broad breast, "for he sees the desolation about the home of his brother. Who has done this?"
"The men of Elskwatawa, led by Willimack the Wyandot," replied the young soldier. "Stand fast, men. Chief, come with me."
He led Tecumseh to the place where the bodies lay beneath the blankets, and throwing back the cloth from them, showed the gashed and gory faces of the dead. Tecumseh started back in evident surprise, not unmixed with anger.
"Listen, Floyd. Tecumthè[2]is above a lie. If by my hand these men were slain, or y my orders, I would not lie to save my life. If my brother's hand has done this deed, he is to blame, and is not the power among the tribes I thought him. Where is the Gray Hair?"
"He was stricken down by the blow of a hatchet, and has lost his mind."
"The Gray Hair never did any thing but good to the Indians. Why should they do him wrong? Where is Bright Eyes, the light of the Wabash?"
"She has been taken prisoner by the chief, Willimack," replied Floyd.
"Willimack is no friend of Tecumthè, although the Prophet loves him. You saw him, in the council-house at Vincennes, point his pistol at the breast of Tecumthè. He is a dog, and one day I will have him hung up in the center of the Shawnee village, because he is a traitor both to red and white men. Where has the Gray Hair gone?"
"The Dead Chief has taken him to his lodge. He will return soon."
A dark cloud passed over the face of the sachem as heheard the name of the great chief of the Pottawatomies. He hated him because he had denounced him to Harrison, and offered to do it in the face of the whole tribe.
"The Dead Chief is no friend to the white men," he said.
"You are wrong, Tecumseh. The chief is our firm friend, and says that because he is, you have ordered him to be slain."
Tecumseh did not deny this, but a look of terrible anger passed over his face, and his hand closed upon the hilt of his knife.
"We shall see whether the Dead Chief can make Tecumthè a dog," he said, savagely. "Then, listen: here above these dead men, I swear by the bones of my fathers that I had no part in their death, and that these are dogs who have slain them. Tecumthè has spoken."
"I believe yew, chief," said the Yankee, who had come up unobserved. "Yew are innercent, as fur as these murders are consarned. I believe my soul you meanfight, but yew'll fight fa'r, not murder wimmin and childern."
Tecumseh looked furtively at the Yankee, evidently studying him closely.
"You came between the pistols and Tecumthè," he said. "Why did you do it?"
"Oh, I like fair play, yew know! I always did, as fur as that goes."
"Tecumthè thanks you, and perhaps some day it may be in his power to give you aid. In that day, ask any thing in honor of Tecumthè and he will grant it."
He turned about and gave a loud, startling signal-whoop. Scarcely had he done so when there started out of the thicket a diminutive figure, that of a dwarf, who was the messenger of Tecumseh, a being scarcely three feet high, who stood looking up into the face of his revered leader.
"If you would send any word to Harrison, the Weasel will carry it," said Tecumseh.
"Will it go safe?" said Floyd.
"The honor of a chief is sacred. It shall go to Harrison, if you trust me."
"It shall be done. Order the men to dismount and pickettheir horses. The chief will remain with us until his return with the answer."
"It is well," said Tecumseh.
Floyd stooped and tore a leaf from his note-book, upon which he wrote in cipher to Harrison, acquainting him with the melancholy fate of his family, and asking permission to take Yankee Seth and as many of the rangers as the latter thought necessary, to track Willimack wherever he had taken Madge. This cipher he intrusted to the Weasel, who took it with a self-satisfied air, thrust it into a small bag he carried at his belt, and set off at a pace which bade fair to take him quickly to his destination.
The morning came at last, and the rangers were up and prepared breakfast. When they had finished, all waited anxiously for the coming of the dwarf, though few believed him capable of performing the journey in so short a time. Tecumseh said he would be at hand in half an hour, but while they waited there came a loud, defiant whoop, and the Dead Chief, gorgeously attired, suddenly bounded forward and faced the astonished Tecumseh, hatchet in hand.