The Frontiersmen Part 13

"To the door!" cried he; "retreat towards the door at once."

The darkness added to the terror and difficulty of the conflict. Ichabod found himself, at first, engaged with Snake-tongue; but a blow from the b.u.t.t-end of his rifle ended the unequal conflict, and the Seneca lay disabled. "Take that, you infarnal slanderer," he cried, as he dealt the blow. "Learn to use your cussed snake's tongue with more moderation, when speaking of respectable females." But Deersfoot now rushed upon him, and a strife commenced, more equal; both strong and powerful in frame, they were well matched. Ichabod caught the first blow of the tomahawk upon his rifle, and then, ere the Indian could use his knife, his long, muscular arms were about him. For a moment they wavered, as in an equal struggle, when both fell to the ground. At the same moment, a number more of the enemy came leaping to join the conflict.

"To the door, for your lives!" shouted Ralph. The contest was now desperate; and slowly retreating, they reached the door, the Tuscarora, being last to cross the threshold. The Indians followed, leaping into the doorway; but the Tuscarora, with the sweep of his rifle, for a moment drove them backwards, then springing within, the door was closed.

None of the party had escaped without injury; and it was not until the door was closed, and the air rang with triumphant yells from the Senecas, that it was discovered that Ichabod was missing. The first impulse was again to open the door, and rescue him, at any odds; but a moment's reflection taught Ralph, that such a course, now that the Senecas were reinforced, would only put their own lives in the utmost jeopardy, without their being able to a.s.sist their friend.

"No good for _you_ to open door," said Eagle's-Wing, "I go and save friend."

"No, no, Eagle's-Wing," exclaimed Barton, "you cannot save him now; and you will only lose your own life, and peril ours. They will not take _his_ scalp, but they will _yours_."

"That true--won't kill him to-night, any way. He great warrior--they like to torture great warriors. We save him to-morrow, some way."

It was with a feeling of sorrow that Ralph acknowledged their inability to do anything for the rescue of Ichabod. Willingly would he have risked his own life; but there was Ruth--who together with the others, might be sacrificed by the imprudent attempt. With a feeling of deep grief, he was obliged to leave him to his fate.

It was now discovered, too, that Guthrie was gone. Could it be that his body had been removed by a Seneca during the conflict? It was not possible; and it was evident, that while in the darkness, he was supposed to have been slain by the Tuscarora, he had counterfeited death, hoping to find some means of escape. With beating hearts, Ralph and Barton proceeded up the stairway. They reached the apartment which they had so recently left: but it was empty. From the window, near which Guthrie had stood, the fastening had been removed from the frame work of bars, and it was certain that through this window Guthrie had escaped, and had carried with him the unfortunate Ruth.

CHAPTER XI.

"'Tis vain to sigh! the wheel must on; And straws are to the whirlpool drawn With s.h.i.+ps of gallant mien."

FRENEAU

No sooner had Barton realized his loss, than he gave himself up to the bitterest feelings of despair. This interim was succeeded by a burning thirst for revenge. "Come, Ralph!--Come, Eagle's-Wing! let us pursue them--let us destroy them! Oh, my G.o.d! thus in my old age to suffer this heavy blow!" and, excited to madness, he fled down the stairway, followed by Ralph and the Tuscarora. Before they could overtake him, he had unbarred the door, and crossed the threshold but no enemy was there.

Ralph, himself overwhelmed with grief, endeavored to console the old man; but there was no balm for such a wound, and he fell fainting into the arms of Ralph.

Ralph, although overborne by grief, possessed a firmness of mind that sought a remedy for affliction, where a remedy was attainable, instead of tamely yielding. Anxiously he and the Tuscarora counseled together upon the course to be pursued. Whether Ruth had been taken prisoner either by Guthrie or the Indians, the result would be the same--she would be a captive among the Senecas. They did not believe any attempt would be made upon her life; but they did fear that the Indians, who had, for the present at least, abandoned their attack upon the cottage, satisfied with the prisoners they had taken, might at once attempt a march to the country of the Senecas, and thus hold their prisoners in a long and tedious captivity. It was, then, with much anxiety that they consulted together upon the course now to be adopted. But we will leave them for the present, to follow the fortunes of Ichabod.

After he had been deserted, unintentionally, by his companions, the strife between him and Deersfoot was no longer equal. Scarcely had the Senecas been foiled in their attempt to follow their intended victims into the cottage, ere Ichabod was seized, and his arms securely pinioned. The Senecas manifested their joy by the most ferocious yells, when they discovered that they had in their possession an enemy so formidable.

"Yell, you red devils!" exclaimed Ichabod: "Ten to one ain't worth crowing about. But I'll tell you what--give me that rifle of mine, and I'll tackle any five of you, any way. But I never did know a Seneca that had a particle of the gentleman about him."

The Indians did not deign any reply to this proposition, but at once made preparations to remove their prisoner. Four of the Senecas were placed as a guard about him, and the march was begun towards their encampment. The remainder of the party bore the dead bodies of their companions, who had been killed in the affray: but Ichabod noticed that there were only fifteen in this party, and consequently there must be eight or ten more either about the cottage, or else already on the march towards their camp.

The route pursued by the Senecas, was that which we have already described as the one traveled by Ralph and Miss Barton on a former occasion, until they pa.s.sed the shanty, when they struck off towards the left, in the direction of the river.

The encampment, or temporary village of the Senecas, was located in the widest portion of the flats we have before noticed, and at a distance of about ten or fifteen rods from the river, which at this point flowed for nearly a hundred rods in a north and south line. But before reaching this point, the course of the stream was extremely serpentine, making several long windings through the valley.

The encampment was in a clearing of an acre or two in extent; which had evidently been cleared many years before; for the ground was covered with a rich green-sward, while three or four old stumps, scattered about the field, denoted that years had elapsed since it had been rescued from the dominion of the forest. It was in an oval form, and entirely surrounded by wilderness. In the midst of this field or clearing, there had been erected five or six temporary huts, by the use of some small saplings and boughs, sufficient to answer for a protection from the sun, as well as from the rains. These huts were arranged in a circle, and in the centre was one smaller than the others; and from the fact, that it was more neatly as well as securely constructed, Ichabod _guessed_ that it must be occupied by Singing-Bird.

The party accompanying Ichabod, had reached the clearing soon after sunrise, when he was led to one of the outer huts, where, after his captors had securely fastened his feet, he was left upon a bed of leaves and boughs to digest his thoughts as he was best able under the circ.u.mstances. He had not remained a long time in this condition, before he heard the noise of the arrival of another party; and he readily imagined, from the joy with which they were received, that they, also, had brought with them a captive from the cottage. Who this could be, he could not conjecture; and this fact rendered his position still more uneasy. He had already devised half-a-dozen plans, through some of which, he calculated upon his escape, together with the rescue of Singing-Bird. But if the new captive should happen to be the Tuscarora, then the desire for vengeance, on the part of the Senecas, might forestall his plans, before they could be put in operation. He did not believe that the Indians intended _him_ any bodily injury; for although he knew their crafty and murderous natures, he did not think they would dare, in the present condition of the Colonies, to violate a peace, which would be likely to draw upon them the vengeance of the whites.

Uneasy at the conjecture that Eagle's-Wing might be the new captive, and pained by the tightness of the withes which had been bound about his feet and hands, he made a desperate effort to free himself from them.

While engaged in this effort, a shadow darkened the doorway of the hut, and Panther and Snake-tongue stood before him. They had evidently detected the effort of Ichabod; but no expression upon their countenances denoted the fact.

The two chiefs approached the bed occupied by Ichabod, and surveyed their captive silently for a few moments; when Panther, directing his conversation to Snake-tongue, exclaimed:

"This is the warrior of whom we have heard. He is a great warrior; he has killed many Senecas; his eye is sharp on the war-path; his rifle is sure. Our old men and squaws have heard of him beyond the lakes. It is pleasant to have him in our hands."

"His arm is strong; Snake-tongue knows it," said Snake-tongue, who still retained a vivid impression of the blow which he had received from Ichabod in the recent encounter at the cottage. "The young men of the Senecas are no match for him; if the Great Spirit had given him a red skin, we should have been proud of him. But he is a pale-face, and it is good to have him bound in our huts. He cannot hurt the young warriors of the Senecas any more."

Ichabod had remained perfectly quiet during this by-conversation, although a smile for a moment lit up his countenance, at the compliments which the chiefs had bestowed upon his prowess. When they had concluded he exclaimed:

"I give you all the thanks for them compliments that you desarve. But you _are_ right about it. I _have_ killed some of your warriors in my day, you may depend on it: and I reckon that this is the first time that any of your breed was quite so familiar with me. But I want to know, if it's considered gentlemanly, among the Senecas, to tie a fellow's legs so cussed tight?"

"The pale-face is a great warrior," said Panther: "he is cunning as a fox. The Senecas are poor and ignorant; they do not know as much as the pale-faces; but they know how to tie a warrior's feet so that he cannot run. They would be ashamed if they did not know how; and my brother would be ashamed of us too."

"I don't ask any kind of marcy of you, Panther," said Ichabod, "I know better than that. You've got me here, and I s'pose you'll do pretty much as you've a mind to; and when you want to begin with your deviltries, just speak, and I'm ready."

"My brother is not a squaw," said Panther, "if he was a squaw, and not a great warrior, we should unbind him, and let him wander round our tents; but the Senecas know how to honor their enemies, who are brave. But the Senecas do not hate the pale-faces; they have buried the hatchet with them, and we will not dig it up. We will let our brother go back to the pale-faces, if he wishes."

"Well, now, I call that pretty clever, considerin'; I shall begin to think you _are_ gentlemen, after all," answered Ichabod, who saw the drift of the discourse. "I'm ready to start any time you'll take these things off my hands and feet."

"My brother is ready to go," said Panther. "It is good. He does not like the lodges of the Senecas; he likes his own people better. It is not well for a pale-face to dwell in the lodges of the red men; and it is not good for red men to dwell in the lodges of the pale-faces. They are different: the Great Spirit has made them different--and it is well. The pale-faces have killed five of our young men; but we will not do them any harm. We will not dig up the hatchet against them. Our young men are not painted for the war-path; they have not struck the war-post of their nation."

"For a civil people, who havn't dug up the hatchet, and who don't intend to, against the pale-faces, you made a suspicious demonstration on the cottage last night. I don't know but that is the _genuine_ Seneca way of being civil and peaceable."

"The pale-faces killed five of our young men; but they did it in defense," said Panther. "They did not want to do it; but Canendesha has killed two of our young men; he did it because he hated them. He is a great warrior, too, and we want him in your place."

"Providing I go back to the cottage," replied Ichabod, "I'll tell him what you want; but I won't promise that he'll be here at any _precise_ time. I couldn't do that."

"My brother has not got a forked tongue; he will do what he says; but that is not enough. Four of my young men will go with my brother, and he will deliver Canendesha to them."

"You mean, I reckon, that I shall take Eagle's-Wing and put these thongs round his limbs, and pa.s.s him over to you as a prisoner?" asked Ichabod, quietly.

"My brother is wise. He knows what I mean: he can do it and be free."

Ichabod was about to give way to a burst of indignation at this treacherous proposal; but he saw that by so doing he should defeat his own ends. He had also learned, to his great satisfaction, that the Tuscarora had not been captured. It was with great difficulty that he could conceal his joy from the inquisitorial eyes of the Senecas; but at length, with an appearance of hesitancy, he answered.

"I can't say, now, whether I will do as you wish or not. I want little time to think about it. Speculating in flesh and blood, in that way, and with a friend, too, is a kind of business I never yet undertook; but I suppose one may get used to it. A little practice will blunt the feelings, until one can come to bartering off friends--aye, one's own flesh and blood, too." Then, as if suddenly remembering the declaration of Snake-tongue, that Singing-Bird was reconciled to her captivity, he added, "you see, if the Tuscarora knew that Singing-Bird had forgot him, and had chosen the young chief of the Senecas for her husband, I calculate he wouldn't care much whether he was here or there. Now if that's true, I _rather_ reckon, I'll do as you want me to, though I look upon it as a rascally mean trick towards a friend."

"It is true, what my brother has heard," said Panther: "Singing-Bird will sing in the wigwam of Panther."

"Now, I don't mean any disparagement to the Senecas, and you in particular," said Ichabod; "I am beginning to think that you may be gentlemen, after all; but _that_ is a matter I can't take anybody's word for. I want to _know_ that it is true."

"My brother shall hear with his own ears," said Panther. "He shall _know_ that the words of Panther are true; he shall see Singing-Bird, and ask her if Panther has lied."

This was just what Ichabod had desired. If he had made the proposition himself, it was doubtful whether some ulterior purpose would not have been suspected; but his seeming willingness to comply with the wishes of Panther, had led the Seneca to suggest this as the surest mode of dispelling his doubts.

"My brother shall see Singing-Bird alone," said Panther, "we have not got forked tongues, or we would not let him do so."

The two Indians departed. Their willingness to allow this interview was, for a moment, almost sufficient to induce Ichabod to believe that Singing-Bird had become faithless to the Tuscarora. But he knew enough of Indian character to know that Singing-Bird might have adopted this line of conduct as the best mode of effecting her escape. With this belief, he silently awaited the interview, determined not to believe otherwise unless he received positive proof from Singing-Bird herself.

Scarcely five minutes had elapsed after the departure of the Seneca, before a shadow again darkened the doorway of the hut, and the young squaw stood before him.