The scow containing the three fugitives was nearing the eastern shore of the Susquehanna, when the negro servant, Gravity Gimp, stopped, checking the craft by grasping the stern.
At that moment the water scarcely reached his waist, and was shoaling at every step, so that the boat was entirely under his control.
He had good cause for his alarm, for, only an instant before, he had looked behind him at the group of Tories and Indians on the western shore, who had stopped firing, and he saw that several had entered the river with the intention of pushing the pursuit through the desolate wilderness already spoken of as the "Shades of Death."
The distance between the pursuer and pursued was slight, for the Susquehanna is not a very broad river where it meanders through the Wyoming Valley, and there remained so much of daylight that the danger of a collision with their enemies was threatening indeed.
Still the sight increased the efforts to avoid them, and Gravity had not lost his heart by any means, when he looked over the heads of his friends to decide where they were to land.
It will be recalled that they had started below where most of the fugitives were pushing for the other bank, and the action of the current had carried them still lower, so there was reason for hoping they were outside of immediate peril.
But the African had no more than fixed his eye on the point, where there was much wood and undergrowth, than he noticed an agitation of the bushes, and, to his dismay, a tall figure clad in paint and feathers stepped forth to view.
He had a long rifle in one hand, and was daubed in the hideous fashion of the wild Indian on the war-path.
The fact that he advanced thus openly in front of the fugitives, who had been exchanging shots with their foes behind them, was proof to Gravity that he was only one of a large party hidden in the bushes, and into whose hands he and his friends were about to throw themselves.
Thus it was that the little group was caught between two fires.
Worse than all, the two guns in the scow, with which something like a fight might have been made, were empty, and it was out of the question to reload them at this critical moment.
No wonder, therefore, when the faithful negro discovered the trap into which they had run, that he straightened up, checked the boat, and uttered the exclamation I have quoted.
The ladies, with blanched faces glanced from one shore to the other, wondering to which party it was best to surrender themselves.
At this time, the warrior in front stood calmly contemplating them, as if sure there was no escape, and nothing could be added to the terror of the patriots.
"Let us turn down the river," said the brave-hearted Maggie, thrusting the pole into the water again; "they have not captured us yet, and it is better we should all be shot than fall into——"
Just then the four were struck dumb by hearing the savage in front call out:
"What have you stopped work for? Don't turn down the river; hurry over, or those consarned Iroquois will overhaul you!"
Unquestionably that was not the voice of an Indian!
And yet the words were spoken by the painted individual who confronted them, and whom they held in such terror.
He must have suspected their perplexity, for, noticing that they still hesitated, his mouth expanded into a broad grin, as he added:
"Don't you know me? I'm Habakkuk McEwen, and I'm ready to do all I can for you. Hurry up, Gravity; use that pole in the right direction, Maggie; cheer up, Eva, and how are you, Aunt Peggy?"
No words can picture the relief of the little party, on learning that he whom they mistook for an Indian was a white man and a friend.
Habakkuk McEwen was a neighbor, as he had called himself, and came from the same section in Connecticut which furnished the Brainerds and most of the settlers in the Wyoming Valley.
He had enlisted but a few months before, and, though not very brilliant mentally, yet he was well liked in the settlement.
Excepting two individuals—whose identity the reader knows—it may be safely said there was no one whom the patriots could have been more pleased to see than Habakkuk, for he added so much strength to the company that was sorely in need of it, but it may as well be admitted, that the honest fellow, although a volunteer in the defense of his country against the British invaders, was sometimes lacking in the courage so necessary to the successful soldier. However, there he was, and the words were scarcely out of his mouth when the scow ran plump against the bank, the depth of the water just permitting it, and Habakkuk cordially shook hands with each as he helped them out, winding up with a fervid grip of the African's huge palm.
His tongue was busy while thus engaged.
"You took me for an Injin, did you? Well, I'm pleased to hear that, for it is complimentary to my skill, for that's what I got up this rig for. I knowed what the danger was, and it struck me that if I was going to sarcumvent Injins it was a good idea to start out like one."
"Have you just arrived, Habakkuk?" asked Maggie.
"Not more than half an hour ago—you see—but let's get away from this spot, for some of them loose bullets may hit us."
This was prudent advice, for their pursuers were at that moment forcing their way through the river in pursuit.
"Gravity, you know this neighborhood better than I do—so take the lead," said the disguised patriot: "and move lively, for I begin to feel nervous."
"I kin move lively when dere's need ob it," replied the servant, "and it looks to me as if there couldn't be a better time for hurryin' dan dis identical one."
Gimp was familiar with the valley and mountains for miles around, and he threw himself at once in the advance, the rest following with rapid footsteps.
As they hastened toward the "Shades of Death" (and the name was never more appropriate than on that eventful night), Habakkuk McEwen explained how it was he arrived as he did.
"We fit the battle of Monmouth on the 28th of June, so you kin see I've had to travel fast to git here even as late as I did. But a lot of us heard that trouble was coming for Wyoming, and we've been uneasy for a fortnight. Three of us went to Gineral Washington and argufied the matter with him; he seemed to be worried and anxious to do all he could, and he said that Connecticut orter lend a hand, as we were her colony, but he was after the Britishers just then, and he wouldn't 'low us to go till arter the battle.
"Wal, we had a first-class battle down there at Monmouth in Jersey, and we and Molly Pitcher made the redcoats dance to the tune of 'Yankee Doodle' as they haven't danced since Saratoga and Trenton. Whew! But wasn't the day hot, and didn't the dust fly along that road! Well, I jus' felt when we had 'em on the run, that if the Susquehanna could be turned down my throat, I would stand it for a couple of hours.
"Howsumever, just as soon as the battle was over, and I seen the Gineral had 'em, even though Gineral Lee tried to betray us, why, I just pulled out and started for Wyoming.
"I didn't wait for the other chaps either, for, somehow or other, I had the feeling strong that there wasn't an hour to spare down in these parts. I traveled hard, and after crossing the upper Delaware, I heard rumors that just made my hair stand on end.
"I knowed that the Tories and Iroquois were on their way, and when I stopped at the house of a settler only twenty miles off, I found him packing up and getting ready to move to Stroudsburg.
"I tried to persuade him to go back with me and help the folks, but he couldn't see why he should desert his own family, even though there was scarcely any danger to 'em.
"He was the man, howsumever, who suggested to me that I had better fix up as an Injin, and he furnished the paint, feathers, and rig. He helped me to get inside of 'em, too, and when he was through, and showed me a glass, I acterally thought I was a Seneca warrior for the time, and, if I'd had a tomahawk, I'd been likely to have tomahawked the settler and his family.
"As it was, I jumped into the air and give out a ringin' whoop, and felt mighty savage and peart like; then I struck out for Wyoming, and I've done some tall traveling, I can tell you. Everybody that saw me took me for an Injin, and gave me a wide berth. Two men shot at me, and I was just beginning to think there might be less fun in playing Injin than appeared at first.
"Well," added the eccentric individual, "I got here too late to take part in the battle, but I'm ready to do all I can to help you out of your trouble, which looks powerful serious."
And the little band, as may well be imagined, were grateful beyond expression to find that what was first taken to be a dreaded enemy was after all a valuable friend.
It caused Lieutenant Godfrey the deepest chagrin to reflect that, after his remarkable escapes of the day, he had been taken prisoner in this fashion.
He was in a crouching posture, watching the scene in front, when several Seneca warriors returning to camp discovered him, and before he could make an effective resistance, he was borne to the ground, disarmed, and made prisoner.
But chagrin was quickly lost in alarm, for there could be no doubt of the intentions of Queen Esther respecting all her captives.
It was characteristic of the youth that his first misgiving was concerning his father, who was but such a short distance behind him, and he expected every minute to see the hapless man brought in as his companion.
But as time passed, Fred gained hope for him, and, recalling his pledge, believed he would keep beyond danger.
Katharine Montour bent her gaze upon the youth, as he came in front of her escorted by several warriors, and then she broke into a chuckling laugh.
This extraordinary creature was once quite popular with civilized people, and she spoke English as well as the Seneca tongue.
"Ha, ha, ha," she added, "you're another Yankee, ain't you?"
Fred had no wish to deny the charge, but he thought best to hold his peace. If she were disposed to enter into a fair argument, he could maintain his own with her; but the relative situation of the two was that of the wolf and lamb in the fable, and, no matter what line he might take, or how skillfully he might try to conciliate her, she would only work herself into a still more furious passion.
He therefore did wisely in not making any reply, but with his hand at his side, and with a stolid, drooping, half-vacant gaze like that of the other prisoners, he looked mutely at her.
The attractive appearance of the young lieutenant, and his manly bearing when first brought before her, may have suggested to Queen Esther that a prisoner of more consideration than usual was at her disposal.
Her exultation, therefore, was the greater, because she would gain this additional means of ministering to her thirst for vengeance.
"You Yankee officer?" she asked, peering into his handsome face.
"I am a lieutenant in the Continental army," answered Fred.
"Allthe captains were killed," was the truthful declaration of the queen, "and more of you Yankees shall be killed; do you see these here?" she asked, making a sweep with her hand toward the captives. "All of them shall die by my hands—yes, bymyhands. Do you hear?"
Fred heard, but he did not think it wise to take the negative of the question, and he continued to hold his peace.
While the Indians were looking on with that apparent indifference which the race can so well assume under the most trying circumstances, Queen Esther suddenly whipped out from the folds of her gaudy dress a scalp, which she flourished in front of the prisoners. Then, with many execrations, she began a weird song and dance up and down in front of them.
This shocking scene lasted but a few minutes, when other Indians came in with more prisoners, among whom Fred recognized several acquaintances. They looked sorrowfully at each other, but said nothing.
The lieutenant counted, and saw there were precisely eighteen, besides himself. It must have been that Queen Esther had stopped in this piece of woods, and, calling in a number of her Senecas, had sent them out to bring in all the captives they could.
She had now secured enough to satisfy her, and she started up the river with them.
The hapless ones walked in a straggling group together, while the Indians were on either hand in front, and the Queen at the rear, as if she wished to contemplate and enjoy the treat in prospect.
Whither they were going, Fred could only guess, but he was certain that it was to some spot where torture would be inflicted on the patriots.
The mixed company had progressed something like an eighth of a mile, when a sudden confusion occurred in the ranks, and those who looked around caught sight of a man dashing through the undergrowth with the speed of a frightened deer.
Queen Esther recognized the figure as that of the young lieutenant, and, with a shriek of rage, hurled her tomahawk, missing him only by a hair's breadth.
At the same moment she called upon her warriors to recapture him, and they dashed off with all speed, not needing the incentive of her command.
It may be said that in such daring breaks for life as that of Fred Godfrey, everything depends on the start. He made such a tremendous bound that he was several rods distant before his foes really understood what had taken place.
Another piece of extremely good fortune lay in the fact that the woods where this was done were quite dense, and in the approaching twilight the start gained by the fugitive actually placed him beyond their sight.
This by no means insured his escape, for his pursuers were too close on his heels, but it gave him an advantage, the importance of which cannot be overstated.
Fred, as you have been told, was fleet of foot, and he now did his utmost, but he could not hope to outrun those who were so close.
He had gone a short distance only, when he turned to the right, and threw himself down beside a fallen tree which lay across his path, and he was not a moment too soon.
The next instant, two warriors bounded over the log and vanished in the wood. As they were sure to suspect the trick that had been played, Fred did not stay where he was. He knew the Senecas would speedily return, and he could not elude such a search as they would be sure to make.
Crawling away from the friendly log, he hurried silently off in a crouching posture, and soon reached a point where he felt quite safe from detection, though he did not throw his caution aside.
As soon as he felt himself master of his movements he made his way back to the point where he had separated from his father; but, although he cautiously signaled to him, he received no response, and he concluded that he was still in hiding somewhere in the neighborhood, and was afraid to answer the calls, if, indeed, he heard them; or he had managed to cross the Susquehanna, and was searching for the rest of his family.
In either case it was a great relief to find he had not fallen into the hands of Queen Esther, who was certain to be doubly savage, now that she had lost the prisoner whom she valued the most.
"If those captives would only made a break," said Fred, to himself, "some would get off; but, as it is, they are like dumb brutes led to the slaughter, and all will perish miserably—Heaven help them!"
Fred Godfrey was not altogether correct in his dismal prophecy.
Queen Esther, when she found that one of her prisoners was gone, gave expressions of fury and resumed the march up the river, her warriors keeping closer watch than before to prevent any other escape.
The procession halted near a boulder which rises about eighteen inches above the ground, and which may be seen to-day, as it lies directly east of the battle monument toward the site of burned Fort Wintermoot, on the brow of the high steep bank, which centuries ago probably marked the shore of the Susquehanna.
The eighteen prisoners were driven forward until this celebrated boulder was reached, which has been known ever since by the ominous name of "Queen Esther's Rock."
Here the captives were ranged in a circle around the stone, while the queen, with a death-maul and hatchet, proceeded to wreak vengeance upon her victims for the death of her son, killed by a scouting party, a short time before the battle.
One after another, the white men were seated upon the rock, and held by two strong warriors, while the terrible Katharine Montour chanted a wild dirge, and, raising the death-maul in both hands, dealt the single blow that was all sufficient.
Occasionally she varied the dreadful ceremony by using a keen-edged hatchet with her muscular arm, which was as effective as the death-maul wielded by both hands.
The work went on until eleven victims had been sacrificed, when one of the men, Lebbeus Hammond, was roused by the sight of his own brother, who was placed upon the rock, and tightly grasped by two warriors.
It was impossible to do anything for him, but Lebbeus whispered to Joseph Elliott:
"Let's try it!"
On the instant, they wrenched themselves loose from their captors, and bounded down the river bank.
They expected to be shot, and they preferred such a death to that which awaited them if they remained.
But the very audacity of the attempt, like that of Fred Godfrey, threw the Indians into confusion for the moment, and instead of firing they broke into pursuit, without discharging a weapon.
Fortunately for the fugitives, instead of keeping together they diverged, Hammond heading up the river. The warriors must have concluded that they were making for Forty Fort, and shaped their course with the purpose of shutting them off. The fort lay to the south and below, and, understanding the aim of the Indians, Hammond turned more directly up the river.
He was fleet-footed, and ran as never before; but, while straining every nerve, he caught his foot in a root, and was thrown headlong down the bank, rolling all in a heap underneath the bushy top of a fallen tree.
He started to scramble to his feet, when, like a flash, it occurred to him that there was no safer course than to stay where he was.
Only a few seconds passed, when the Indians approached and began hunting for him. How they failed to discover the young man passes comprehension, and it was only another of the several wonderful escapes which marked the massacre of Wyoming.
The savages peered here and there, drawing the bushes aside, and looking among the old logs. The poor fellow heard their stealthy footsteps all around him, and caught glimpses of their coppery faces, smeared with paint, as they uttered some exclamation and almost stepped upon him in his concealment.
Once he was sure he was detected, and he held his breath, fearful that the throbbing of his heart would betray him; but the red men moved away, and shortly after returned to Queen Esther's Rock to help in the executions going on there.
Hammond stayed where he was until all was still, when he crept cautiously out, and, swimming the river, made his way to the fort at Wilkesbarre, where, to his amazement, he found his companion in flight.
The escape of this patriot was no less extraordinary than that of Hammond.
He had also swum the river to the bar on the lower point of Monocacy Island, going almost the entire distance under water. Whenever he threw up his head for a breath of fresh air he was fired upon, and he received a bad wound in the shoulder.
Although suffering severely from it, he persevered and soon reached the opposite side, where he found a horse wandering loose and without bridle or saddle.
With little effort Elliott succeeded in catching him, and with a bridle improvised from the bark of a hickory sapling, he rode the animal to Wilkesbarre, where the wound was dressed by a surgeon.
The next morning he went down the river with his wife and child in a canoe managed by a boy, and joined his friends at Catawissa.
Both Hammond and Elliott lived many years afterward, and are still remembered by some of the old settlers in Wyoming Valley.
In the mean time the little party consisting of Maggie and Eva Brainerd, Aunt Peggy, and the servant Gravity Gimp, and the eccentric New Englander Habakkuk McEwen, were improving to the utmost the advantage gained by reaching the eastern bank of the Susquehanna.
"I don't want to go away without papa," said Eva, as she looked longingly across the river, where the massacre was going on, as shown in the smoke of burning buildings, the crack of the rifles, the whoop of the Indians, the shouts of fugitives, and the flight of settlers, including women and children, who flocked to the river.
Despite the danger, Maggie shared with her sister the most tender solicitude for her parent.
"Perhaps he is among them," said she, in a lower voice, to Gravity.
"There's no telling where anybody is," replied the New Englander, "but I notice that the Tories and Injins right across from us are watching our movements pretty sharp, and it won't do for us to loaf about here many days, if we expect to get out with our lives."
"What a pity that Jake Golcher was not shot when we had the chance!" exclaimed Aunt Peggy.
"We're likely to get dat same chance agin," said Gimp, impressively, "and de next time de one dat don't took it has got to be shot for him."
"If we could do Richard any good," added Aunt Peggy, more thoughtfully, "we ought to wait here; but can we?"
McEwen, who was growing uneasy over this delay, shook his head.
"If anybody can show me the way by which we can help him I'm willing to stay, but the woods are full of people fleeing, and the savages are after 'em. I've no doubt a lot are in Forty Fort, where they'll be safe if they've enough to keep the Injins back. There's only one thing left for us to do, and that's to run."
He looked inquiringly at Maggie, and the brave girl, with a breaking heart, stifled her anguish and nodded her head to signify that she was ready.
As courageous as the Roman maiden of old, she could walk straight along the line of duty, even though it led over red-hot plow-shares.
Poor Eva put her hands to her face, and the tears streamed through her fingers, but she, too, had something of the high courage of her sister, and when the latter placed her arm about her and drew her head over upon her shoulder, the little girl sobbed for a few minutes only, and then cheered up and bent to her task.
"Where do you go?" asked Maggie of Habakkuk.
"I think there is an old trail leading through the mountains and wilderness to Stroudsburg, ain't there, Gimp?"
"Dar am," was the response, "and I've been over it twice, so dat I knows de way."
"Does it lead through the 'Shades of Death?'"
"It am."
"It's a long road to Stroudsburg, for I came from out that way, and it'll be a powerful hard tramp, but I don't think we can do any better. These Iroquois have had a taste of victory, and they'll never stop, so long as there's a chance to get any more. They'll trail us all day to-morrow, and it's my opinion we ain't goin' to get to Stroudsburg in a hurry, either."
"Den let's be off," added Gravity, who could not fail to see the necessity for such promptness.
"If papa comes across the river," said Eva, who threatened to yield again; "won't he cross higher up?"
It struck all that there was some reason in this suggestion, which was acted upon without delay.
They made their way up the western shore until some distance above Monocacy Island, every eye and ear on the alert.
They saw plenty of fugitives, some on horseback, some wounded, all scared half out of their senses, and striving to get as far from the valley as possible.
Numerous neighbors and acquaintances were encountered, but naught was seen of Mr. Brainerd, and nothing was known of Fred's presence on the other shore. He had left the Continental army directly after McEwen, who was unaware, therefore, of his coming.
It would not do to tarry any longer. The afternoon was drawing to a close, and the whoops and rifle-shots that every now and then were heard on the eastern shore proved that the little party in whom we are interested were only rendering their situation more perilous by every minute's delay.
Accordingly an abrupt turn was made to the right, and they plunged into the woods, pushing for the mountains some distance back of the river, and aiming to strike the Stroudsburg trail, after reaching the other side of the range, which is about a thousand feet in height.
As Gravity Gimp was better acquainted than any one with the wilderness, he took the lead, the ladies coming next, while Habakkuk McEwen brought up the rear—leader and rear guard each, as well as Maggie, carrying a loaded rifle, and on the alert.
"Gravity," said Eva, when they had gone but a short distance, "I thought you were lame a while ago?"
"Wal, what ob it?"
"You don't show a bit of lameness now."
To the surprise of his friends, the African laughed heartily.
"Dat war a joke ob mine; I warn't hurt at all, but war jes pretendin'."
"Why did you do that?"
"To fool the Injuns: I war thinkin' dat if dey seed I war lame, dey would think I couldn't run, and would lebe me to scoop up arter a while, and den I'd get de start on' em. Shouldn't wonder if I done it, too."
There was no discussion of this original strategy, which possibly did prove of some benefit to the sable fugitive.
The company pressed on until they reached a point perhaps an eighth of a mile from the river, when, as by common consent, a halt was made.
No path was followed, but they had scrambled along as best they could, and now paused, where, for the time at least, they were alone.
The sun had gone down, and the question was whether they should pause where they were for the night, or whether they should try to get through the mountainous ridge before daylight came again.
The question would not have arisen but for the anxiety concerning the missing Mr. Brainerd. The ladies, including Eva, seated themselves on the ground, while Gravity Gimp and Habakkuk McEwen perched themselves on a high, broad boulder, where they could detect the approach of danger.
"Dar's one thing dat troubles me wery muchly," said the African, with a worried expression.
"What's that?" asked Habakkuk.
"It'll take us two or free days to reach Stroudsburg, no matter how fast we trabbel, and whar's we gwine to got de prowisions on de road?"
This was a serious matter indeed, and it was one which caused many a death and much suffering among the hapless multitude that pressed through the "Shades of Death," in the direction of the settlements on the upper Delaware.
"I've got some bread and meat," said the New Englander, "which I brought from a settler's cabin thirty miles away, but I ate a big lot on the road and there ain't much left, but what there is goes to the ladies, of course."
"Dat's a wery good arrangement," said Gimp, "but I don't see dat it am gwine to do dis gemman much good."
"You'll have to do the same as I—sh!"
A crackling of the undergrowth startled every one, and Gravity and Habakkuk instantly slid off their rocky seats and crouched down, with their cocked guns in their hands.
"Scrooch low!" whispered the New Englander; "it must be Injins, and that's worse than having nothin' to eat."
The five did their best to screen themselves from observation, for, as has been said, the most dreaded calamity that could befall them would be their discovery by a party of their enemies, numbers of whom, it was known, had crossed the river and were scouring the woods for more victims of their cruelty.
One of the most striking features of the massacre in Wyoming Valley, in July, 1778, was the number of extraordinary individual escapes on the part of the fleeing patriots and panic-stricken settlers. There is no episode in American history marked by so many singular, and, indeed, almost inexplainable incidents, in this respect, as was that disaster which swept over one of the fairest spots that sun ever shone upon.
In the battle there were, on the patriot side, about two hundred and thirty enrolled men, and seventy old people, boys, civil magistrates, and other volunteers, embracing six companies, which were mustered at Forty Fort, where the families from the east side of the Susquehanna had taken refuge.
A young man, slight of frame and weak of body, was chased by several Indians, one of whom was almost close enough to throw his tomahawk. The fugitive, despite his fleetness, was losing ground, when Zebulon Butler, one of the last to leave the field, galloped by him on horseback. The fugitive caught the tail of the animal, and thus helped, made good progress. But the warriors, knowing he could not keep his hold long, continued the chase.
Sure enough, the poor fellow speedily lost his hold, and was about to give up, when he caught sight of a drunken soldier, lying in the wheat-fields. As Colonel Butler went by, he shouted to the stupid fellow to fire at the Indians. He roused up, rubbed his eyes, and pointing his wabbling musket in the direction where he supposed his pursuers to be, let fly.
The leading warrior dropped dead, and his companions, supposing there was an ambush in front, turned and ran for life, while the exhausted fugitive pitched forward on the ground and was saved. Unfortunately, however, this soldier was not the only intoxicated patriot at Wyoming on that day.
A wealthy settler, finding a party of Indians at his heels, did his utmost to throw them off his trail, but failed, and was in despair.
While still struggling forward he came upon the trunk of a large hollow tree, into which he crept. Knowing the red men would soon be along, he remained quiet for several hours, scarcely daring to move a limb.
By and by he heard footsteps, and to his consternation, several warriors actually sat down on the log itself. The murmur of their voices, as they talked together, was audible, and he saw no way by which he could escape discovery.
The opening in the log through which he had crawled was in plain sight of the Indians, who stooped down and peered in.
The fugitive saw the painted faces, as they strained their eyes to pierce the gloom, and he was certain they would detect him as soon as they became used to the darkness.
But shortly after he crawled into the refuge a spider spun his web across the opening, and the quick eye of the warriors noted it. With good reason they accepted it as a proof that no one had taken refuge there, and they accordingly left.
The fugitives, whose history we have set out to give, crouched behind the rocks in the woods, and tremblingly listened to the approaching footsteps, that all believed were those of Indians.
The gathering twilight was already strong enough in the wilderness to hide them from the observation of any who might stray to that section, and a fight was almost certain to be the result of detection.
It was noticeable that Habakkuk McEwen took more precaution against discovery than the African, or even the ladies. He lay flat on his face, where no one could see him unless he passed directly by the spot.
He kept whispering to the others to be quiet, and to "scrooch" lower, for the Indians are proverbial for their keen sightedness.
The curiosity of the ladies got the better of their prudence, and each one peered cautiously from behind the sheltering rock. Aunt Peggy besought Maggie and Eva to keep out of sight, but all the time she was thrusting her own head forward and drawing it back again in a way that was more likely to attract attention to herself than if she remained stationary.
"If you girls ain't more careful, some of the scand'lous villains—"
At that instant Eva Brainerd sprang to her feet with a faint scream, and, to the horror of her friends, leaped nimbly upon the rock, then down to the ground, and ran like a fawn in the direction whence came the disturbance, and where the outlines of a dark figure were dimly observed.
"Oh, it's papa! my own papa!" exclaimed the joyful girl, who was caught in the arms of her no less delighted parent, and pressed to his breast.
"Heaven be thanked!" exclaimed Mr. Brainerd, kissing and embracing the fond child again and again, and then, holding her hand in his, he fairly ran toward the bewildered fugitives, who had sprung to their feet as they recognized him.
Then the laughing, happy Maggie's white arms were thrown around her father's neck, and both cried for joy.
Mr. Brainerd was in a sorry plight. His coat, vest, and hat were gone, and his draggling garments were dripping with river water, but it was his own genial self who stood before them. And when he released his daughter, he shook the hand of Aunt Peggy warmly, as he did that of Habakkuk McEwen, who was an old acquaintance, and at whose Indian-like disguise he laughed.
All were talking, smiling, and congratulating each other for the next few minutes, and nothing was thought of the peril incurred in giving way to their feelings at such a time, and in such a place.
But there was one still missing—the loved brother, who had gone so valiantly in search of his parent. When the latter had told his story, Maggie asked:
"Papa, where can Fred be?"
"I hope he is safe; but we cannot be sure of it for some time yet. He is a brave, noble boy. I will never cease to be grateful, if he is spared to join us."
The father, hiding his own misgivings as best he could, only said that he and his son (as he always regarded his step-son), were compelled to separate a short time before, on the other side of the river, and since a man of his age was able to rejoin his friends, there surely must be reason to believe that one so young and active as Fred would soon show himself. So all resolved to hope, though their fears made the hope more painful than cheering.
"It won't do to stay here," said Mr. Brainerd, when told that they thought of camping where they were till morning.
"Is the danger imminent?" asked McEwen.
"The Tories and Indians are continually crossing the river, and there must be at least a hundred on this side; their whole purpose is massacre. I do not think it possible for us to escape discovery if we wait another hour."
"Then let's be off!" said Habakkuk, throwing his rifle over his shoulder, and starting in the direction of the mountains.
"Hold on!" interposed Gimp; "Ise de guide ob dis procession, and if you takes my place you'll be lost sartin sure."
"All right, go ahead!" assented the other; "only don't be so slow about it."
"Many of the poor people," explained Mr. Brainerd, as the party made ready to start, "are following the trails through the woods and mountains, and they are suffering frightfully—hark!"
As he spoke, the sharp crack of two guns was heard, so close at hand that all started and looked behind them.
Nothing however was seen, and the elder added, as they resumed their flight, "Others of our friends have done like us and left the trails, but without avoiding danger, though they may lessen it."
"But we can't tramp all the way through the woods in this fashion," protested Aunt Peggy, as she caught her foot in a root and narrowly saved herself from falling forward on her hands.
"No; after getting to the other side of the mountains we will work off to the right and strike the regular Stroudsburg trail, and keep to it until beyond the reach of the Tories and Indians."
"That's the doctrine I subscribe to," assented Habakkuk; "Mr. Brainerd, you will take charge of the extra gun, which allows one to each man; that's three, and we ought to be able to give a good account of ourselves, though I do hope we shall get through without any more trouble."
As before, the African acted the part of guide. He had tramped through these woods so many times that it may be said he was familiar with every acre. In the preceding winter he and Mr. Brainerd had hunted deer, and both remembered a romantic spot where there was a natural cavern, not very deep, which they availed themselves of for shelter when overtaken by a driving snow-storm.
As Mr. Brainerd recalled the place he directed Gimp to conduct them thither, it being his purpose to stay there until night should fully settle upon the wilderness.
His reason for what might seem a singular step was that the sounds of firing, and the occasional whoops of Indians near at hand, convinced him that, if they attempted to go much farther while it was so light, they would be sure to come in collision with some of these savage bands, in which event it would be hardly possible to escape the loss of several, if not all the party.
"We will take advantage of the natural fort," said he, "until it is dark, and then Gravity knows the woods so well, he can lead us through the mountains to the other side, where we need not hesitate to take the main trail to Stroudsburg."
"Eva, take the hand of your aunt," said Mr. Brainerd, who saw that his other daughter was desirous of saying something to him; "and let Maggie and me walk together for a few minutes."
The child would have preferred to stay by the side of her beloved parent, but she did as requested, and her elder sister slipped back, and, as the ground permitted, ran her own arm beneath her father's, and the two walked together.
"Well, Maggie, what is it?" he asked, tenderly.
The brave girl repressed her distress as best she could, but he detected the tremor in the voice which asked the question:
"Father, have you told usallabout Fred?"
"I saw him a while ago."
"Do you know whether he is alive or—or—dead?"
"Be courageous, my child; I cannot answer that question, but I have hope that we shall see him again. He hurried home from the army to help us, but arrived too late. Reaching Monocacy Island, he became so anxious to find out what had become of me, that he returned to the battle-ground at great risk to himself. We met, providentially, and found that neither was hurt—a remarkable piece of good-fortune indeed."
"But how did you become separated?"
"We started up the river bank in the direction of Fort Wintermoot, believing we would stand a better chance of getting across without molestation, for he had learned from a fugitive that you had gotten over. Fred made me promise, while on the way, that if we became separated I should make no effort to rejoin him—that is, to help him, for he must have felt that I could do him no good. I gave the promise, and then demanded that he should make me a similar pledge-but he actually refused."
"Just like my noble brother!" exclaimed Maggie, with a glowing countenance; "well?"
"Scarcely five minutes later we approached a dense portion of the forest, in which we feared were some of the Indians. Fred had assumed the leadership before this, and he told me to stay where I was until he could go forward and learn whether it would do to pick our way through that part of the wood, or whether it was necessary to go around."
"Well? well?" asked Maggie, seeing that her father hesitated.
"My boy went forward to reconnoiter—and he didn't come back."
"O, father!" wailed Maggie, "what became of him?"
"You can guess as well as I: there were Indians in there, as I learned immediately after, and one of several things may have happened to him. He may have found himself involved in such a network of danger that he was forced to lie still, not daring to withdraw until night; he may have been compelled to go out by another route, or he——"
"May have been captured and killed."
Maggie's eyes were fixed yearningly upon the face of her parent, as she finished his remark in a tremulous whisper.
"It may have been so," he added, gravely, "but we cannot be certain. Fred is very active, cool, self-possessed, and daring, and I shall not give up hope so long as this uncertainty exists."
Maggie Brainerd attempted to speak, but failed. The human heart at such a time reaches the limit of endurance, and she drew her shawl closer about her, though the afternoon was warm, and the exertion of traveling was great.
She had no covering on her head, but, like Eva, her wealth of luxuriant tresses, as fine as the golden floss on the ripening corn, flowed down and over her shapely shoulders.
"We are in the hands of God," said her father, reverently, as he drew his elbow closer to his side, so as to press the hand of his daughter with it; "I waited as long as I dared, and had I not made the pledge I would have gone forward to Fred's assistance."
"It was well you did not, for we would have two instead of one to mourn for."
"But where is your courage, child?" he asked, reproachfully; "is this the girl who stood up in the flat-boat and used the pole when the bullets were flying about her? Is this she who coolly raised her rifle and fired at those who were seeking her life?"
"I ought to be thankful, and Iamthankful, for God has been tenfold more merciful to me than he has to scores of others. Our family as yet is unbroken, and, though the way is long and dark before us, we have cause to hope we shall all be saved."
"And there is equal cause to hope for the final escape of Fred," her father was quick to add.
"I will not murmur anymore," said Maggie, helping him over a boulder that obstructed their path; "we have enough on hand, without looking behind us. It may be that Fred is one of the fortunate few who shall survive to tell the dreadful story, but I feel as though we shall never see him again."
"Tut, tut, your feelings have nothing to do with it; when he rejoins us, and learns what a timid creature you were, or rather how strongly you doubted his ability to take care of himself—you will blush to look him in the face."
"I pray that I may have the opportunity—"
"Hello!" broke in her parent, stopping suddenly, as did all the rest; "there's something wrong."
And so there was, sure enough.
While the fugitives were pushing their way through the wilderness, and especially after they had entered the more romantic and mountainous section, they had become somewhat separated from each other.
Gravity Gimp, the colored guide, was fully a hundred feet in advance—a piece of imprudence that should never have been permitted, while Eva came next, Aunt Peggy directly behind her, and Maggie and her father were less than a rod distant from her.
Habakkuk McEwen had disappeared!
That which caught the attention of father and daughter while they were conversing so earnestly, was a serpent-like "sh!" from the African, who, stopping instantly, turned part way round, and raised his hand in such a warning manner that the four paused, knowing he had made some alarming discovery.
Gravity remained stationary but a second or two, when, in a stooping posture, he began moving back toward his friends.
At this juncture, and before the little party had fully noticed the absence of McEwen, he was seen approaching from the left, with such a terrified look on his painted face that his shock hair seemed to be standing on end.
He advanced much faster than the stealthy African, and he had hardly reached his friends when he exclaimed, in a husky whisper:
"We're gone! it's all up!"
"What do you mean?" demanded Brainerd.
"I saw four thousand Injins just now."
"Where?"
"Right out there; I believe Colonel Butler and his villain of a son Walter, and Brandt, the Mohawk chief, and Queen Esther are at their head."
This wild assertion served to lift part of the load from the listeners, but they knew the fellow must have some grounds for his terror.
Before he could explain, Gravity Gimp had a word to say.
"Dere am Injuns all about us; de wood am full ob 'em."
"Tell us the truth, that we may know what to do," commanded Mr. Brainerd, sternly, while the affrighted females gathered around.
"I war pushing along," said the servant, "when I heerd something like de call ob birds in de woods, and I begin to smell a mouse, and I walked slower like, thinking you folks war right onto my heels. All at once I seed two Injuns stealing along—"
"Did they see you?"
"No, 'cause dere backs was turned toward me, but I knowed dey war looking fur us, so I wheeled on my heel, and remarked, 'sh!' jist to stop you from running ober me; as I done so, de Injuns wanished in de wood, but you can make up your mind dey'll be back agin mighty soon."
"And what was it thatyousaw, Habakkuk?"
"I guess it must have been the same savages," replied McEwen, who had begun to regain something of his self-possession.
"Didn't you see any more?"
"No. But when you find two red men, you can feel sartin thar's a big lot more at hand; they're the same as rattlesnakes, in that respect."
"It's not so bad as I thought, but the case is bad enough. Gravity, how far off is that place in the rocks we're hunting for?"
"Reckon it can't be fur away now."
"We must make all haste to it, then. The Indians seem to be, so far as we know, on our right, and you must bear off to the left, so as to avoid them, if we can."
"Hold on," interrupted McEwen. "Gimp seen two Injins, didn't he?"
"Dat's de fac'," replied the negro.
"I seen the same number, but in addition, I had a fair glimpse of a white man, too."
"Did you recognize him?"
"I did. He was Jake Golcher, the Tory."
"Oh, the scand'lous villain!" exclaimed Aunt Peggy. "I'll get my hands on him yet, and the next time, I'll shake the life out of him."
Mr. Brainerd had heard the story of this man's doings, a comparatively short time before, and he needed no other proof that he had brought a horde across the Susquehanna for the purpose of wreaking vengeance upon his family.
He knew that the Tory, who was more guilty than the fiercest of the Iroquois, was a discarded suitor of his daughter, and he was to be dreaded all the more on that account.
"Quick," said Mr. Brainerd, addressing his servant; "we haven't a second to spare; bear off to the left, as I told you, and don't let the grass grow under your feet."
It need not be said that no one of them lagged. The very peril from which they were fleeing was almost upon them.
There was no attempt to use caution or care in hurrying forward. Somehow or other Jake Golcher had gotten on the track of the little party, and, with a number of Seneca warriors, almost as keen of eye and scent as bloodhounds, was following them.
Fortunately, the distance to the cave was not great, and the fugitives were walking fast, and in the right direction.
The heavy figure of Gravity Gimp kept its place at the front, and with a coolness scarcely to be expected, he looked to the right and left as he advanced, with the sole purpose of preventing any precious moments being lost by going astray.
All heard the bird-calls, whistling, and faint whoops uttered with very little intermission, from different portions of the wood, so that it was certain the Tories and Indians knew of the flight, and were in sharp pursuit.
The African, as we have said, maintained his place well in advance, though at times it looked as if Habakkuk would take the lead. But both scrambled along, sometimes half falling over the stones which turned beneath their tread, or the briers and vines that almost threw them on their faces.
Gravity could not afford time to look to his feet, to see where he placed the rather unwilling members, for it required all his training, as a hunter, to keep his reckoning and to make sure he was taking the most direct route to the sheltering cave, upon which all hopes were now fixed.
Although McEwen had come a long distance to help repel the invasion of the Wyoming Valley, he was accustomed to fight where there was plenty of support, and he knew enough of aboriginal ferocity to dread the collision that now impended.
Had he known, therefore, the right course to follow, he would have been in advance of the others; but as it was, he fretted because he was forced to keep on the flank of the negro, whom he was continually urging to greater speed.
"As sure as a gun," he said, "those fleet-footed redskins will gobble us up in five minutes, if you don't get up more speed than that, Gravity."
"I can't conwerse while I'm tumbling over rocks and splitting 'em to pieces wid my head," was the reply. "Don't bodder me, but look out for Injuns, and if you see one, just run up to him and lamm him."
"Lamm him!" muttered Habakkuk, more to himself than his companion. "That shows the intelligence of his race. He's so dumb at times that he crosses the line, and does smart things."
Aunt Peggy was not far in the rear of the two, for she was much lighter of foot than they. She got along very well, but she held her lips compressed, and her small eyes flashed, when she reflected that the whole party were fleeing from the wrath of a man who had lived in the valley before the war, who had sat at Mr. Brainerd's table many a time, and had presumed, even, to pay court to pretty Maggie.
It was an exasperating thought, indeed, that all this persecution was for no cause at all, excepting the depravity of the Tories, who, being renegades, were more revengeful than they would have been against a foreign enemy.
Mr. Brainerd compelled his two daughters to continue in advance of him, though only for a short distance. He expected the appearance of the pursuers, and he could not leave the fugitives unguarded in that fashion.
He felt that it was the place of Habakkuk McEwen to keep him company, and he called to him in a guarded voice. But the fleeing New Englander either did not, or would not, hear him.
It was impossible for such a flight and pursuit as this to last for any length of time. The advantage was all on the side of the fleet-footed Indians, who were so familiar with the woods that they were sure to come up with the patriots in a brief while.
The fugitives were hurrying forward, as we have described, when they were startled by the whoop of an Indian directly behind them, and so close that every one glanced over his shoulder.
As they did so they saw the figure of a Seneca warrior in full view and on a rapid run.
It was seen, too, that he grasped a gun in one hand and his tomahawk in the other. There could be little doubt that he meant to use one of them on the old gentleman at the rear, who could not hold his own against such a swift pursuer.
"S'render! s'render! s'render!" called the savage, as he gained rapidly, uttering the command in such good English that no one could misunderstand him.
"S'render! s'render!—me shoot—"
Mr. Brainerd halted, turned quickly, raising his rifle while in the very act of doing so, and when the affrighted but bewildered Indian ran almost against the muzzle of his gun, the trigger was pressed.
The red man, with an ear-splitting shriek, bounded in the air and stopped pursuing the patriots, while Mr. Brainerd, as he hurriedly resumed his flight, was so overcome with excitement as to mutter:
"Now you can shoot and be—!"
"The accusing spirit flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath, and as she wrote it down, dropped a tear on the word, and blotted it out forever."
The crack of Richard Brainerd's rifle and the death-shriek of the Seneca Indian were almost simultaneous, but the redskin was only a slight way in advance of the other savages, who, understanding the meaning of the report and outcry, dashed forward.
The startling episode caused some bewilderment on the part of the other fugitives, seeing which, the eldest called out to them impatiently:
"Push on, there! Push on! the Indians are right on us."
Providentially, the advance were so close to the refuge that Gravity Gimp caught sight of the spot, and without looking around, he swung his hand over his head and exclaimed:
"Here we am! Here we am!"
"And that's the trouble," growled Habakkuk McEwen, crowding hard after him, "if we were only somewhere else, we'd feel a good deal better—leastways I would."
Another whoop was heard, then others at the rear, and those who glanced back caught sight of several warriors flitting among the trees and within the toss of a stone of them.
Brainerd would have fired again had it been in his power, but his gun was unloaded and it was impossible to ram a charge home, and pour the powder in the pan, without coming to a standstill for a minute or two, and such hesitation would be death.
Had the place of refuge toward which they were hastening been a dozen rods farther, not one of the fugitives would have reached it alive, but, at the critical moment, Gimp, the African, told the joyous news that it was at hand, and a general scramble followed.
The servant paused at the head of the elevated path, and turning around, beckoned excitedly for the others to hurry, when they were already doing their utmost, while he danced about and waited the few seconds necessary for them to reach him.
While he was doing so, Habakkuk McEwen suddenly vanished from sight, evidently concluding that the "time for disappearing" had come.
He had caught sight of the refuge, and with one bound he went down the declivity and was first to enter.
He took a sweeping glance of the interior, and was disappointed, for it was not what he expected, but it was far better than the open wilderness. He dashed for the narrow path on the outside, to take his part in yelling for the others to hurry up, or rather down.
"Be quick! Quick!"
It was Aunt Peggy who came panting into the opening with a rush, and, colliding with McEwen, sent him tumbling backwards.
By the time the bewildered New Englander was on his feet again, Maggie Brainerd, Eva, her father, and Gravity Gimp came crowding into the narrow place, all nearly out of breath.
There was a general looking around in the semi-gloom, and Habakkuk's disappointment was shared by those who had not seen the place before.
It was of little account, and, although it might be made to answer as a temporary refuge, it could hardly be expected to furnish secure defense for an extended time.
Descending a narrow path for twenty feet, and all the time along the face of the ravine, as it may be called, they reached a spot which looked as if it had been scooped out of the solid stone wall.
It ran back a dozen feet or more, and was about the same breadth and height, but the difficulty was that the opening was fully as great, so that, viewed from the front, the person or animal who might seek shelter there was in plain sight.
The spot was one of the many romantic ones that abound in the mountains fringing the Wyoming Valley. The rapidly sloping path that the fugitives followed terminated in front of the cave, which, therefore, could only be approached from the single direction. Beyond, the path narrowed off to nothing, leaving a perpendicular wall of stone for twenty feet below, and almost as much overhead.
The ravine on which this bordered was fifty feet across, but directly opposite was the weak point of the defense.
A mass of rocks rose fully as high, if not a few feet higher, than the cavern in which the fugitives had taken refuge; consequently, if an enemy could gain a position behind these boulders, he could fire down into the opening, where our friends had no means of protecting themselves from the shots.
But it was no easy matter to reach this monument-like pile, though it could be done at much risk to the one attempting it. The configuration was so peculiar that one man at a time could creep along behind the other stones, until a point was almost reached which commanded the retreat, though the inmates, by pressing close against one side of the cavern, could escape the fire of an enemy.
On the other side there was no means of approach to such a position.
If a foe would climb up the rocks, and steal forward to a certain point, an active Indian could make a leap that would carry him to the cover of the pile, where he could aim and shoot into the cavern without risk to himself, provided he used ordinary caution.
Furthermore, it was unlikely that the Indians, skilled as they were in woodcraft, would fail to see this vulnerable point and their own coigne of vantage.
In truth they detected it almost on the same instant the fugitives hurried into the cavern.
Fortunately both Gravity Gimp and Mr. Brainerd knew the peculiar construction of their refuge, and instant precautions were taken.
"Keep back as far as you can," said the elder, "and stay close to the wall on the right."
His order was obeyed, Habakkuk McEwen and the African both moving in that direction.
"You come too, papa," insisted Eva, catching hold of the arm of her father, who smilingly took a step or two.
"Yes," added Maggie, "if we all place ourselves beyond reach, why should notyoudo the same?"
He explained the situation.
"If the Indians get to that mass of rocks opposite, they can shelter themselves and shoot into the cavern until there is not one of us left."
"But is it necessary for you to stay out there, and draw their fire to keep them away from us?"
"Not exactly, but we must see that they do not creep to the spot; before doing so, they must pass under our aim, and it will require no great marksmanship to prevent them."
Thereupon, directing Gravity and Habakkuk to keep strict watch upon the place, with their rifles cocked, Mr. Brainerd deliberately reloaded his gun, and shifting his position so as to screen himself from the bullets that were certain to be sent into the place, he sat like a cat watching for a rat to come out of its hole.
The fugitives talked in low tones, for there was something in the uncertainty that was impressive.
Now that they were removed from imminent danger, they could breathe with some satisfaction, though sobered by their peril.
"It's all that Jake Golcher's doings," said Aunt Peggy, who was at the extreme rear of the cavern, with one arm around the neck of Eva and the other inclosing that of Maggie.
"I shouldn't wonder if you are right," replied Maggie; "he must be a wicked man indeed."
"Umph!" exclaimed the maiden, with a sniff, "there ain't a more scand'lous villain that ever drawed the breath of life, and I know what I'm saying, and jus' to think, you had a chance and didn't shoot him."
"But, aunty—"
"Shet up, don't interrupt me," broke in the relative, with a vigorous shake of the arm inclosing the neck of Maggie.
"How many times have I told you not to interrupt me when I am talking? Don't you know what's good manners?"
"But, aunty," said Maggie, softly, "I don't see how I can talk atanytime without interrupting you."
Eva giggled, but fortunately Aunt Peggy did not catch the full meaning of the demure remark, and she said, rather sharply:
"It's easy enough to tell when I'm talking by just listening, and when I'm talking you must keep still; but I want you to remember that that piece of burglary on your part has got to be settled."
"What do you mean, aunty?"
"I told you you deserved your ears cuffed, and when we get to a place where I can do it with some comfort to myself, I am going to cuff them,thatyou can depend on."
There could be no question about the earnestness of these words, and Maggie, like an obedient child, said nothing, glad to await the time when her aunt should punish her for sparing the wretch who was now trying to hound them to their death.
"I don't know but that I deserve it," said the niece to herself, and we may as well confess that we are inclined to agree with the views of the aunt.
"Oh, that Jake Golcher," she added, with a shiver, "I'd like to get a chance at him!"
And just then she would have made it uncomfortable for the Tory, had he been within reach.
The truth was, Golcher was one of the worst of the invaders of Wyoming Valley. Like many others, he joined a horde of Indians in attacking his former neighbors.
As we have intimated, he had sat at the same table with the Brainerds—he had been given money by Mr. Brainerd himself, for he was a shiftless scamp, hating work like a veritable tramp, and he had never received an unkind word from the charitable head of the household, who sheltered him many a time when no one else would give him room.
With the egotism of his nature, he had ventured to pay court to young Maggie Brainerd, who could scarcely credit his effrontery until he made a direct proposal of marriage.
Even then, the high-spirited girl was so touched with compassion for the man, that she refused him with all the kindness of her nature—showing a feeling, indeed, that would have won the respect of any person claiming to be a man.
But he stumped off muttering vengeance, and here he was, less then a year later, with a company of red men, seeking the lives of his former friends.
Among those who figured in the war of the Revolution, there were none so utterly inexcusable as the Tories, who, like all renegades, were more bitter in the warfare they made upon the American colonies, than were what might be termed our natural enemies.
But for the Jake Golcher named, it may be doubted whether the little band of fugitives would have suffered serious disturbance after fording and swimming the Susquehanna.
There was enough on the western bank to keep the foe occupied all that night and the succeeding day, without crossing to the wilderness to hunt for victims.