Kitabı oku: «The Wilderness Fugitives», sayfa 5

CHAPTER XIII.
NEW PERIL

With the hostile Iroquois on both sides the Susquehanna, and the awkward scow near the shore, it will be seen that the situation of the fugitives, striving to reach the protection of Wilkesbarre, was not of an encouraging nature. The Mohawk was confident that he had read the meaning of the waving torch aright, and that if he expected to reach the shore immediately behind him, it must be done at once.

The signal light was scarcely extinguished when he rose to a stooping position, and applied the pole with all the vigor at his command. It was astonishing to see the speed he was able to force out of the unwieldy structure. The foam actually curled away from the bow, and in a few seconds it ran plump against the bank and stuck fast.

"Now is our time," said Ned, as he caught the hand of Rosa, who sprang up at the same instant with her brother.

"Yes; it won't do to wait a second," added Jo.

"'Sh! move fast – don't make noise," put in the Mohawk.

In a twinkling the entire party had landed, and hurried away from the spot, expecting some of the Iroquois would be there within a very short time. They were right in this supposition, and were none too soon in getting away from the place. The Mohawk led the way directly up stream, keeping close to the shore, but still leaving enough space between them and the water for the passage of a number of their enemies.

It was certainly less than three minutes after the landing of the whites that sounds around them were detected, proving that the redmen were hastening to the spot. Their failure to be there when the landing took place seemed to point to the conclusion that they must have failed to keep track of the craft after receiving the notification from the allies across the river. The faintest possible "'Sh!" from the Mohawk apprised his companions that danger was close, and all came to an instant halt. The sounds of the Iroquois moving near them were slight, but they told the story as plainly as if the sunlight revealed every form.

As might be expected, the Indians did not take long to find the scow that had been abandoned by the fugitives. And when the craft was discovered it told its own story. The nest was warm, but the bird had flown. When the Iroquois realized this fact, they exchanged a few words, which the Mohawk heard and understood, for they were in his own tongue.

"We have come too late to find the pale faces," said one.

"They have gone," replied another. "They are hiding in the woods, and we shall not find them till to-morrow."

"They cannot cross the big brook," continued one who seemed to be the first speaker. "When the sun comes to light up the forest, then we will take their trail and hunt them to their holes, and before the sun goes down there shall not be a scalp left but on the head of the Flower of the Woods."

"And the traitor Lena-Wingo, what shall be done with him?"

"His scalp shall be torn from his head and flung in his face. Then he shall be taken to the towns of the Iroquois and tied to a tree, and left till the birds pick out his eyes. The Iroquois women and children shall dance around him, and laugh till his eyes are gone."

This was interesting information to the individual referred to, but it affected him little. He had heard too many such threats before.

"Lena-Wingo is cunning as the serpent that crawls in the grass," continued the Iroquois, who were dissecting him in his own hearing.

"You do not hear him move when he comes for his prey, or steals away from the warriors that are hunting him."

"But Brandt, the great chieftain, has sworn to take the scalp of Lena-Wingo, and he will do it, unless the traitor runs away from so great a warrior, as Brandt says he has run when he heard that he was hunting for him."

If ever there was an angry Indian, that one was Lena-Wingo, when he heard these words. The thought of his running away from any one through fear was a little more than he could stand with composure; and those who were crouching around him in breathless stillness were surprised to hear him shift his position and breathe hard, as though struggling to suppress his emotions. Could they have seen his face at that moment, distorted as it was by passion, they would have been frightened at his appearance. His hand clutched his knife and he was on the point of stealing toward the warrior who had uttered the irritating untruth, when he seemed to gain the mastery of himself – aided no doubt by the fact that at the same instant his quick ear caught the sound of a paddle, so faint that no one else heard it. He was on the alert in a second, for a scheme flashed through his mind with the quickness of lightning.

The faint noise showed that several new-comers had arrived on the scene, and naturally a change in the current of conversation followed. The wish of Lena-Wingo was to learn where these later arrivals came from – whether from the other shore or whether they were prowling up and down the bank, where they were now grouped. To the whites, who could hear every word uttered, the talk of course was incomprehensible; but the loudness of the tones, as well as the rapidity and general jangle, led them to believe they were angry about something that had taken or had failed to take place, and that had produced a quarrel between them. Such was the fact, and Lena-Wingo listened to the high words with the hope that they would lead to blows, in which there would be a good chance of the one who had slurred his courage receiving his deserts.

Those in the canoe, it seemed, had been stealing up and down the shore, on the alert to detect the departure of the fugitives, but, from some cause or other, failed to do their duty, and they must have been quite a way off at the time the Mohawk put out his awkward scow. The party on shore were angry because of the failure, which was certainly a discreditable one, and they were very ready to accuse their comrades of being "squaws" on the war-path. The accused were equally ready to charge the others with being "old women" for permitting the whites to land under their noses, and to reach cover again. It would be hard to say which of the companies was most to blame, and, as is the rule at such times, each berated the other all the more on that account. The prospect was promising for a deadly quarrel; but one or two in the party appeared to be cool-headed, and they managed to quiet the rising storm, much to the regret of the listening Mohawk.

It being clear to all the Iroquois that Lena-Wingo was too cunning for them, although he had failed in carrying his charge across the Susquehanna, it was plain that all his enemies could do was to fix upon a plan to retrieve their own slip. And so, in full hearing of the leader of the fugitives, they discussed their different schemes. Lena-Wingo was not long in learning that there were plenty of his enemies watching both sides of the river, and that it was to be an undertaking of extreme difficulty for him to cross with his friends. This did not lessen his determination, but rather strengthened it, and he inwardly resolved that he himself would place his three companions on the southeastern shore, if Colonel Butler had his whole force of Indians and Tories arranged along the bank to prevent it!

The consultation between the Iroquois lasted all of half an hour, by which time they had decided what to do. They would all land and scatter up and down the river's margin, thus covering as much ground as possible, and watch for the moment when the whites would come out of their cover again. In other words, they meant to patrol the beach so vigilantly that it would be out of the power of the fugitives to leave their hiding-place without detection and capture.

CHAPTER XIV.
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND

All that could be done for a time by the fugitives was to maintain their position and remain as quiet as the grave until the Indians moved from their immediate vicinity. The prowling Iroquois were keen-witted, and although they may have been careless at first, yet they were on the lookout for the slightest indication of their enemies. Consequently, the least movement at that time would have been pretty sure to tell them that the whites, whom they would suppose were hiding somewhere in the woods, were really close at hand, and within their power. Every one of the fugitives realized this, and did not stir while the consultation was going on.

By some means or other – Ned could never explain how – he had reached out his hand, at the moment they took these positions, and grasped that of Rosa Minturn. It seemed to have been one of those instinctive actions that are natural under certain peculiar circumstances. And so, during the better part of an hour, he enjoyed the sweet pleasure of feeling that delicate little hand nestling within his own.

At last, when the council of war was finished, the soft rustling among the leaves and undergrowth showed that the Iroquois were engaged in carrying out the programme they had just arranged among themselves. They were separating, and the danger now was that in leaving the spot they would stumble upon the whites themselves who were so near them. Nothing could be done to lessen this danger on the part of the fugitives, the only thing remaining for them being to continue the deathlike stillness until the peril was gone. Lena-Wingo was well satisfied that the Iroquois did not suspect the proximity of the whites, for the act of taking refuge so near their enemies was scarcely to be expected. They would not look, therefore, for them in such a place, and it was a matter of accident or providential interference that would carry the Iroquois beyond without learning of the presence of the fugitives. All the latter – even Rosa herself – understood this danger, and the succeeding few minutes were exceedingly trying.

The faint, catlike motion of the redskins proved they were very close, and likely to come closer any second; and if they happened to turn to the left but a few feet, it was sure to precipitate the collision that must be disastrous to the patriots. More than once Ned Clinton was certain a warrior was crouching so near him that he could touch him by reaching out his hand. The young scout was possibly correct in his surmise, for Rosa, who was next to him, was equally sure of the presence of an enemy, the supposition, in her case, extending even further. Her eyes were fixed upon the spot where she believed she could detect a dark form stealing along on the ground, so near that she fancied he must touch her dress. If she could see the Indian, she knew the eyes of the warrior were keen enough to discover her presence, from which some idea of the painful nature of her situation may be ascertained.

The senses of the girl were preternaturally acute, and still more, she was no less convinced that she could hear the breathing of the savage as he crept slowly forward. Fortunately for her, this fearful strain upon her nerves could last but a few minutes. If the Indian should come to a halt, she would take it as evidence that he had discovered the presence of the fugitives, and she would give the alarm to her friends, but so long as he kept moving, ever so slowly, there was cause to hope he was unaware of how close he was to the prize for which they were hunting. The dark form gradually passed from view, and a few minutes later the straining vision of Rosa was unable to discover anything to excite alarm, although her ears, for several minutes after, apprised her that some of the dreaded figures were still making their way through the undergrowth dangerously near to her and her friends.

It was, perhaps, a half hour more from the conclusion of the conference of the Iroquois that they got so far away from the spot that the fugitives felt as though the peril had lifted so that they could venture to draw a deep breath and move a cramped limb. However, all waited a while longer before they dared speak in the most cautious whisper, it being considered the duty of the whites to wait until Lena-Wingo took the initiative. Suddenly, in the gloom, it was noticed that the tall Mohawk was standing perfectly erect, as though looking at something in the direction of the river. He held this singular position a few minutes, and then knelt to the earth and applied his ear to the ground. This was one of his favorite methods when in the immediate vicinity of a foe, and it rarely failed to add to his knowledge of the movements of his enemies. While he was thus occupied, his friends patiently waited until he should be through and ready to direct them what to do. It did not take him long; for, according to the plans he had heard agreed upon, every minute only added to the difficulty of the task he had taken upon himself.

"Stay here," he whispered, his words being the first uttered since they crouched down in this spot. "Lena-Wingo go way – soon come back – don't make noise."

Every one wondered what the errand could be that should take the Mohawk away at this critical moment, and Rosa ventured to ask him.

"Why do you leave us, Lena-Wingo, when there is danger all around?"

"Won't go far – Lena-Wingo soon be back – stay right here."

"We've been staying now till we're tired of it, and if you can find other quarters, I'm sure I will be better satisfied, for one."

"Soon do so," responded the scout, and without any more explanation he began a cautious withdrawal from their presence. All were desirous of knowing what he was after, and they watched him as well as they could. This, of course, was only for an instant, but it was long enough to see that he was going in the direction of the river, from which they had retreated in so much haste. This fact led Clinton to suspect the true errand of the Mohawk the instant he started. He said nothing of his belief to his friends, however, as he had no wish to make a blunder, and the truth would soon become apparent. All were so impressed with the gravity of the situation, that only a few syllables passed between them during the absence of their leader.

As the Indian was not to be seen the three listened with the keenest attention, hoping to gain something of the purpose of the Indian. But the silence could not have been more profound had they been the only living creatures within a thousand miles. They could detect the soft flow of the Susquehanna, only a few yards from where they were hiding in the undergrowth. Once, too, the sound of a rifle broke upon their ears, but it seemed to be a full mile away, in the depths of the forest, and gave them no alarm, its only effect being to make the solemn stillness more solemn and impressive, and to inspire a feeling of loneliness that was almost painful. Once or twice a ripple of the water was heard, such as might be supposed to come from the movement of an enemy stealing through the current, but each of the three knew it was not caused by friend or foe. They had noticed the same thing many a time before, and knew it was caused by a drooping branch or projecting root, acted upon by the sluggish current which caused it to dip in and out of the stream.

And so that which might have excited apprehension in another caused no alarm on the part of those whose experience in the woods had taught them better. At the end of ten minutes, perhaps, Ned Clinton detected a slight rustle at his side, and turning his head to learn the cause, found that Lena-Wingo had returned.

CHAPTER XV.
A DELICATE AND DANGEROUS TASK

Without using the broken language of the Mohawk scout, his mission may be explained. While the conference between the Iroquois was under way, he detected sounds that told him a canoe had arrived among them – confirmed immediately after by the sound of the quarrel already referred to. The instant he became aware of this, he resolved to obtain possession of the boat and appropriate it to his own use. Every reason urged him to do this. One of the most powerfully exciting causes was the wish – natural to the white as well as the red man – to outwit his enemies. To capture their canoe would be a brilliant winding up of the shrewd escape he had made from the parties on the water and land. Besides this, it had become plain that the only way to get across the Susquehanna was by using a craft equal in every respect to those employed by his enemies.

To venture out again in the scow would be to surrender to the Iroquois, and, as sharp as was the Mohawk, he could not but wonder that they were enabled, as it was, to get back after putting out from shore, with all the chances so against them. He supposed the redmen would leave the boat lying where it was, while they scattered up and down the shore to keep watch for the fugitives, should they attempt to repeat the embarkation. As the scow was moored near to where the canoe was drawn up, it was to be expected that the Iroquois would hold that place and its vicinity under close watch. This rendered the task of the Mohawk one of the most difficult in the world, and all the more relished on that account. Suffice it to say that he succeeded in reaching the spot, where he found one of the best canoes of his experience resting lightly against the bank. A further examination of the craft told the Mohawk that the boat was his own, having been stolen from a place up stream where he had left it, not suspecting it was in danger.

Lena-Wingo was rather pleased than otherwise to learn this, for it was proof that, if he could secure possession of the little vessel – abundantly able to contain all the party – he would have the one of all others which he could manage with his own consummate skill. The paddle was there, only awaiting a claimant. But in making his reconnoissance, Lena-Wingo ascertained that an Iroquois sentinel was stationed within a dozen feet, where he was using his eyes and ears as only a redskin knows how to use those organs. It was necessary to get the canoe from beneath his nose before there was any prospect of escape, and the question was as to how this should be done.

The Mohawk, with his usual perception, saw that the boat could not be entered at the point where it now lay, and he so informed his friends. His plan was to move it some twenty feet or more down stream, where it would be beyond the range of the sentinel's vision. That accomplished, he looked upon the rest as a small matter. He instructed them, therefore, to steal as quietly as they could for about the distance named down stream, and there await him. This being understood, they began the cautious movement, while he went back to the still more difficult task.

It was an easy matter for the three whites to do as they were bid without betraying themselves, and it was done in perfect silence, after which they resumed their waiting, watching, and listening. When Lena-Wingo reached the river-side again, he found the Iroquois at his station, where he would be likely to detect the first design upon the canoe. Then how was the latter to be used by the red scout? There was a method that would have suggested itself to any one. That was the very obvious plan of stealing up to the unconscious sentinel, and putting him out of the way so effectually that he could never disturb them more.

The reason why the warrior hesitated to employ the method which his enemies would have been only too glad to use against him was in obedience to that strange forbearance in his composition, and which rendered him reluctant to shed blood, unless in legitimate warfare. There was not a particle of doubt that he could have stolen up to the guard and dispatched him before he could make a single outcry or apprise his companions of what was going on. This would leave the coast clear for him to take the whites aboard and use his own leisure to reach the other shore. But the scheme he had in his mind would leave the sentinel unharmed, while its after effect would be almost equal to death itself. This plan was to steal the canoe away without attracting the notice of the Iroquois – a proceeding which would be such a disgrace to the warrior that he was likely to fare ill at the hands of his comrades, who were exasperated over the failures already made.

His course of action being decided upon, the Mohawk went at it with his accustomed caution and promptness. His rifle had been left in the hands of Ned Clinton so that his arms were untrammeled, and he entered the water a short distance below where the boat was lying against the bank. Fortunately, the stream was deeper than he anticipated, rising to his waist when he was within a yard of the land. This gave him the facility he desired, as by stooping he was able to hide all but his head, which was so placed that the canoe, resting high upon the surface, was brought between him and the sentinel. This concealed him from the sight of the warrior, and gave him the shelter so indispensable. It then required but a minute to make his way through the water to the stern of the canoe, which he cautiously grasped.

All depended upon the skill with which he managed this part of the scheme. If the Iroquois should suspect any such attempt, the suspicion was sure to defeat it. After placing his hand upon the rear gunwale, he paused for fully a minute and listened. The stillness remained undisturbed, and it looked as if the way were clear for the daring attempt. At the very instant that Lena-Wingo began to exert a gently increasing pressure, his keen sense of hearing told him the sentinel was moving, and the scout paused before the frail boat had yielded to the force.

The Iroquois was approaching the canoe, as if he suspected mischief.

The boat itself was no quieter than the Mohawk, as he listened to the advance of his enemy. He could tell what the latter was doing as well as if he were looking directly at him. He knew he was picking his way to where the boat was lying, and a minute after, had paused within arm's length of the same. There he stood while the Mohawk awaited his next move.

If the sentinel should step into the craft, it would show that he intended to look over the stern, in which case the Mohawk held himself ready to sink below the surface, coming up so far out in the stream that he would be invisible. But if the Iroquois really suspected any such act upon the part of the great enemy of his tribe, his fears were removed by the utter silence. After waiting a little longer, he returned to his former position with the same caution and silence as before. Lena-Wingo hardly paused until he was out of the way, when he drew a little harder upon the stern, and felt it slowly yielding to the force. A few more minutes of undisturbed action, and he was sure of having the canoe just where he wanted it!