Little Oskaloo Part 18

[E] Harmar and St. Clair.

"The Americans are now led by a chief who never sleeps. The night and day are alike to him, and during all the time he has been marching upon our villages, notwithstanding the wakefulness of our young men, we have not been able to surprise him. Think well of it. There is something whispers to me that it would be prudent to listen to his offers of peace."[F]

[F] Historical.

To this speech James Girty was the first to reply. His voice was for war to the knife. He scouted at ideas of peace, when the seven tribes had sworn to stand side by side and oppose the Americans. He accused of cowardice all who talked of submission, and cast scornful glances at his brother Simon and the Turtle. Clad in the war dress which he usually wore on such occasions, and with the fitful flashes of the council fire in his face, he seemed a very demon of war and blood.

His voice went afar into the night, and startled the warriors who had been forbidden to attend the council.

"We will surely fight the Blacksnake, for the Whirlwind is talking,"

they said with delight.

It was midnight when the council broke up, its partic.i.p.ants in no good humor, for the Turtle's speech had sown much dissension in the Indian ranks, and that night many a red man saved his life by deserting the common cause.

It was decided to fight Wayne at Presqu'-Isle.

After the adjournment of the council the several chiefs hurried to their respective legions to prepare for the conflict. James Girty wended his way toward the Miami camp. He was ill at ease, and ever and anon his hands closed and opened spasmodically, and he muttered as he went along:

"Is he tired of war? Is he going to turn gentleman? He is a coward! He is not worthy the name of Girty."

These words fell in audible tones from the renegade's lips. They were hissed from a heart which was a very cauldron of anger.

"James?"

At the sound of his name the outlaw stopped, and turning, recognized the speaker.

"I am tired of war; but I am not a coward."

The renegade brothers stood face to face in the forest.

For a moment neither spoke. They stood apart, as if each had determined not to approach the other.

"You are for peace, Simon," James said.

"I would stay the slaughter that will follow our meeting with Wayne,"

was the reply.

Simon Girty trying to prevent the effusion of blood? It seemed one of the impossibilities of his nature.

A grim smile pa.s.sed over the Whirlwind's face.

"Then fly to-night," he said bitterly. "Go to the great cities and exchange your b.l.o.o.d.y hatchet for the priests' robes of religion. I am for war! No man shall ever say that Jim Girty turned from a chance to shed American blood. We are brothers. Simon, is it true that you are tired of slaughter?"

"I am. We have been devils long enough, James."

"When did you experience this wonderful change?"

The speaker's sarcasm made the solitary listener bite his lip.

"Do you know who is with Wayne?" he said.

"Two thousand men that long to drink my blood."

"_He_ is there--_they_ are there!"

"Ha?"

"Abner Stark reached Wayne not long since. He brought a family of fugitives into camp. That man has been hunting you ever since you murdered his family in Kentucky. Fifty more avengers of desolated homes are with Wayne, and there are people in our own ranks who hate you. The blood of Parquatin will be avenged."

For a moment James Girty looked searchingly into Simon's face.

"Parquatin!" he said. "Simon, his blood is on your hands. You put him up to what he did in the council. I should have spared the boy, and killed you. Oh, what a brother you have been to me! And now with fiendish delight you tell me that I will fall to-morrow. Let it come! No man shall say that I ever played the coward. Go your way. I am ashamed to know that I have a brother whose name is Simon!"

The last word still quivered the outlaw's lips as he turned on his heel and deliberately walked away.

Simon Girty watched him until the ghostly shadows of the trees hid him from sight, and said, as he turned toward the Indian camp:

"Simon Girty will be brotherless to-morrow night."

There was a tinge of regret in his tone, for despite their hates and jealousies, their inhumanity to one another, the renegade brothers were not devoid of every spark of brotherly affection.

And the night wore on, and at last the day came. It was the b.l.o.o.d.y and disastrous twentieth of August, 1794.

CHAPTER XVII.

FIELD OF THE FALLEN TIMBERS.

We return to other characters of our romance in order to glance at their adventures from our last dealings with them up to the night before the great fight for supremacy on the sh.o.r.es of the Maumee.

We left Kate Merriweather returning to her kindred with Harvey Catlett and her lover after her rescue in the cabin of James Girty.

The restoration was effected without incident worthy of record, and the girl at last found herself in her mother's arms.

The journey was then resumed, and the entire party, with the exception of Little Moccasin, who mysteriously returned to the forest, reached Mad Anthony's camp.

It may well be believed that Abel Merriweather breathed free again when he found his little family behind the bayonets of the American army, and he hastened to enroll himself among the ranks of bordermen led by Wells and the Choctaw chief Hummingbird.

In this legion were also found Oscar Parton, George Darling, and little, but fearless Carl Merriweather. Harvey Catlett was unattached, and Wolf Cap given the liberty of the field.

Around and upon the Hill of Presqu'-Isle the Indian forces had posted themselves, having their left secured by the river, and their front by a kind of breastwork of fallen timbers which rendered it impracticable for cavalry to advance. It was a position admirably chosen, but useless, as history tells.

Impatiently the allied tribes awaited the American army. The chiefs, with few exceptions, were confident, for had they not beaten Harmar and St. Clair?

The Girtys had not s.h.i.+rked the battle, but there was a restlessness about Simon's movements that attracted attention. James, on the contrary, was firm and boastful. Wherever he went he encouraged the Indians to stand firm, promising them victory and its tempting spoils.