Wyoming

CHAPTER XXXIV

After a courageous struggle against the Indians, the fugitives, as I have shown, were taken prisoners.

It was a singular scene, as the six whites, the men having their hands bound behind them, came out of the gloom of the wood, and, under the escort of more than a dozen Seneca warriors, approached the camp-fire, where Jake Golcher, the Tory, awaited them.

Mr. Brainerd, who walked close to Fred Godfrey, said, in a low voice,

"Under Heaven, my son, you are our only hope; if you see a chance, no matter how desperate, take it."

"I will," was the low answer; "I shall make a break before the last scene comes."

As the party emerged into the light thrown out by the burning wood, the chief interest of the captors seemed to center in Habakkuk McEwen, for the reason, as the reader will recall, that he was partially disguised as an Indian. The fact that such was the case had been noted, of course, by his captors, who seemed to be in some doubt as to the cause, but not until now did they gain a good view of him.

The place where the camp-fire was burning was a small natural clearing, with a fallen tree lying extended one side, so as to afford a seat for a score of persons, if they chose to use it.

The fugitives were brought up and arranged in front of the log, Mr. Brainerd standing first, McEwen second, Fred Godfrey third, while Aunt Peggy, Maggie Brainerd, and Eva supported each other.

Even the whites themselves looked at the eccentric New Englander with some curiosity, for only the females had seen him by the light of day. His dress was of that mongrel character, worn alike by frontier Indians and white scouts, while his face still retained the paint that had been daubed on it by his friend, miles away in the wilderness.

The little company were placed in the order named, standing so that the reflection of the firelight revealed every countenance with the distinctness of mid-day, when, as we have intimated, there was a general scrutiny of Habakkuk, who stood the ordeal well.

He threw his shoulders back, and tried hard to look like an Indian warrior, all unconscious of the curious eyes bent upon him.

The Senecas were grouping themselves in front, when Gray Panther uttered an exclamation that drew attention to him. He had stumbled over the inanimate figure of the warrior whom he left to guard the colored prisoner for Jake Golcher.

At the same moment the Tory himself rose from the farthest end of the log, bent over as though suffering great pain, while his face was pale as ashes. He said to the chief that it had all been caused by the negro, who was supposed to be helplessly lame, but was only feigning it. He developed into an animated pile-driver with such suddenness that the warrior who received his full attentions would never recover, and Jake himself felt much doubt whether he should ever feel entirely well again.

Such creatures as Golcher are the most abject of cowards when in the presence of death, and while he lay on the ground, gasping for breath and certain that the blow received from the iron skull of the African had finished him, he became altogether a different man from what he had been during life.

He was repentant, and begged Heaven not to punish him for his multitudinous sins. He pledged himself that if the little patriot band should fall into his hands he would release every one, and conduct them beyond the dangerous neighborhood.

Alas, for human resolution! Immediately after making the pledge he began to rally, and as he came back to his natural self his good intentions were scattered like thistle-down in the wind. By the time the captives were ranged along the log in front of him he was the same malignant Tory that he had always been.

The discovery of the dead body of the Indian caused some confusion among Gray Panther's band, and there was considerable lamentation, during which the prisoners were partly forgotten.

Fred Godfrey was watching like a cat for his chance, and twice he was on the point of making a break. Had his hands been unfastened he would have done so, but he waited for what he hoped would be a more favorable opportunity.

A guard of two warriors took charge of their dead comrade, while the others again centered their gaze upon the New Englander, who stood the scrutiny with the same assurance as before.

Jake Golcher, rising to his feet, came painfully down the line, and without paying any attention to the others, stopped in front of McEwen, whom he scrutinized a full minute, both standing motionless and looking squarely in each other's eyes, without uttering a syllable.

CHAPTER XXXV

Jake Golcher and Habakkuk McEwen were evidently old acquaintances, and the Tory seemed to be trying to identify him through the paint that was daubed over his countenance in such a loose fashion.

Suddenly the Tory broke into a laugh and exclaimed:

"It's him, as sure as creation! I thought it when I first set eyes on you. Where did you come from, and why are you got up in that flowery style?"

"Sh! sh! sh!" exclaimed McEwen, contracting his brows and shaking his head; "I don't want these folks to know who I am. Don't speak my name."

"And why not?" asked the other, with another laugh, as he came closer to the captive.

"They think I'm a friend to 'em; they don't know I'm a Tory that come into the valley to raise partic'lar mischief with the settlers."

Jake Golcher immediately became very sober and drew still closer to McEwen, still gazing sharply into his face. Then he asked in a low voice, which, however, was distinctly heard by the whites, so perfect was the stillness at that moment.

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

"You kin do as you please about it, but I've been with Colonel John Butler's forces for three days."

"Where was you during the battle this afternoon?"

"I was there," was the unblushing response; "I was out yesterday with a scouting party under Ke-fi-ke-fa, the son of Queen Esther, who was shot by a party of settlers."

Whether Habakkuk spoke all truth or not, the Tory knew he uttered it so far as concerned the son of Katharine Montour, queen of the Senecas. Her son was killed on the day preceding, as declared by the prisoner, and it was that cause, as I have already intimated, which served to excite her to such a pitch of fury during the battle and massacre.

Jake Golcher looked at him again with the same searching gaze, as though he was partly convinced and sought to make sure by reading his countenance.

"What made you paint yourself up in this fashion?"

"So as to be took for an Injin."

"What did you want to be took for an Injin for?"

"Wouldn't I have more chance to do hot work?"

"I don't see why," was the response.

"Wal, if you had been near me you would have seen. I scared these folks half to death, but, when they found out who I was, they was dreadful sweet onto me. That give me the chance I wanted with them, and then when the Senecas and our own boys seen me, they didn't interfere, so I had a free path to travel."

"How comes it you're in this scrape?"

"I got in among these folks so as to turn 'em over to you, and if it hadn't been for me you'd never got 'em neither."

"How do you make that out?"

"I knowed they meant to fight hard in the cavern, as they showed by picking off a couple of your warriors, but I got 'em to come out and move off up the ravine, knowing sartin sure they would walk into the trap that you had sot for 'em."

Jake Golcher seemed to be astounded at this statement, and his manner showed he was half persuaded there was some truth in it. If the fellow was really a Tory like himself he had no wish to harm him, but he was not fully persuaded, and he turned to Mr. Brainerd.

"You heard what he said, didn't you?"

"Not being deaf, I did."

"Do you know whether he speaks the truth or not?"

"I don't know, and what's more I don't care; I know one thing, he didn't render us the slightest help, and in my opinion there is only one bigger coward and scoundrel in the country, and that's yourself."

Mr. Brainerd looked the Tory straight in the eye as he uttered these defiant words, and the latter winced under the indignation of an honest man.

Golcher stood for a moment irresolute, his eye wandering up and down the line, until it happened to rest on Aunt Peggy.

"Oh, don't you wink at me that way, you scand'lous villain," she exclaimed, shaking her head; "if you say a word to me, or come any nearer, I'll scratch your eyes out!"

The Tory moved a little farther off.

CHAPTER XXXVI

Fred Godfrey, as may well be supposed, was amazed at the words of Habakkuk McEwen, but he believed the fellow was simply descending to this subterfuge in the hope of saving his life.

Understanding the nature of the man as well as he did, he could not find fault, and he made an effort to help him, without telling a clear untruth.

"I can say that before and after I joined my friends, he behaved very differently from the others."

"How?"

"He was asked to do several things for their benefit and refused, and he favored this attempt to get away by leaving the place where we had taken shelter in the rocks."

"That's because he was too cowardly to do anything else," broke in Mr. Brainerd.

"Did lie fire either of those shots that brought down a couple of our men?"

"I believe not-did he, Mr. Brainerd?"

"No; he can't shoot well enough to hit a flock of barns ten feet off, and he shivered so with fear he couldn't hold his gun in hand."

"That's a lie!" exclaimed Habakkuk, who began to feel hopeful; "I had a dozen chances to pick off some of the red men and I wouldn't do it, 'cause I was their friend."

"Wal, I'll 'tend to you after awhile," said Golcher, puzzled by the turn matters had taken. "You folks may sit down on the log a while, and I'll 'tend to another matter."

During this curious conversation the Senecas were grouped on the other side of the camp-fire, so that the faces of captors as well as captured were shown in the glare of the blaze, upon which more wood was flung.

Fred Godfrey regretted this, having resolved to make a break whenever the chance presented itself, for there was no mercy to be expected for him. The Senecas were impatient, and he was well aware that Jake Golcher hated him with a hatred that would stop at nothing in the way of suffering.

If convinced that the death of a soldier would be his, he would have stayed and died, like the brave youth he was.

But once away and he might do something for those who were dearer to him than his own life.

While he stood listening to the conversation recorded, he sought to finish that which he had tried to accomplish all the way thither – that was, to loosen the bonds that held his elbows and wrists as if they were bound with iron.

He could not make any progress, and he began to feel as though he had deferred the step too long. He thought to have overturned his immediate guards, and dashed in the woods, before reaching the camp of the Senecas.

This was destined to be an eventful night to all concerned. The Tory had taken a step toward Maggie Brainerd, with the manifest intention of addressing her, when a new-comer appeared on the scene, in the person of an Indian runner from the other side of the river.

It was evident he came from high authorities, with orders. From what followed, it is probable that the leaders of the Indians and Tories felt there was need of additional forces on the western bank, to complete the work of which much still remained to do.

Forty Fort, which contained many of the settlers, and women and children, had not yet surrendered, and the massacre could not be completed so long as a remnant of the patriots held out.

That such was the errand of the runner appeared from the fact that he addressed himself directly to Gray Panther, who the next moment summoned Golcher to his side, and the three held a brief conversation.

The captives naturally fixed their attention on them and noticed that they gesticulated, and the Tory indulged in a number of expressions in English that were of a vigorous nature.

Some of the Senecas sauntered over in front of the sorrowful group, and looked at them with natural curiosity. Habakkuk McEwen, on account of his fantastic dress and paint, still attracted the most notice, and some of the warriors ventured on a remark or two in their own tongue, but he made no answer, and did his utmost to maintain a dignified bearing.

"Habakkuk," said Fred Godfrey, in a low voice, "what did you mean by telling that wretch such a story?"

"Sh! keep quiet," replied McEwen, in an undertone, and without looking toward the one he was addressing; "you know it's my only chance."

There was a moment of silence, when both Fred and his father were disposed to suspect the fellow of treachery, but second thought convinced them that he meant well enough, and was only making a natural effort to gain the favor of the man who held his life in his hands.

It was in accordance with the natural instinct of the fellow, who was more than willing to resort to any artifice that promised to avert the doom hanging over his head.

It is scarcely necessary to say that he was the only one who would ask mercy at the hands of Jake Golcher, or who would pretend any sentiment other than an utter abhorrence of him.

CHAPTER XXXVII

The conference between Golcher and the chief, Gray Panther, was vigorous, even if brief. Orders of such a positive nature had been sent that it was probable neither dared disregard them.

The Seneca chief called eight of his warriors about him, said something in his guttural fashion, and then he and they disappeared in the wood.

It looked as if they had been commanded to cross the river and join the main force on the western bank in some important enterprise.

This left precisely eleven Indians, so far as could be seen, with Jake Golcher to carry out his designs. When Fred Godfrey realized the size of the force, he said in an undertone to his father:

"If we only had our guns now, we could make a good fight against them."

"But we haven't – so what's the use of talking of an impossibility?"

It was apparent to the fugitives, who were watching everything, that Golcher himself was a little uneasy over the shape matters had taken. Instead of going to where the captives were sitting on the fallen tree, he stood apart with two of the warriors, discussing something with as much earnestness as he had talked to Gray Panther.

The meaning of this was soon made plain, when he came over, and, addressing Habakkuk McEwen, said loud enough for all ears:

"We've concluded to move camp."

"What's that for?" asked the New Englander.

"None of your business," was the reply, given with equal promptness.

The anxiety of McEwen to gain the good-will of his master, however, would not permit him to hold his peace, and he hastened to interject several questions.

"I say, Jake, ain't you going to unfasten these twists of wood that are cutting my arms almost in two? I think them Injins must have took a couple of hickory saplings to bind me."

"I ain't satisfied about you, yet," said the Tory, in that hesitating manner that showed he was pretty well convinced that his prisoner, after all, was what he professed to be, although, for some reason, he chose to restrain his indorsement to him.

"Wal, you orter be," growled Habakkuk; "I'm the best Tory in the Wyoming Valley; and this is a purty way to sarve me."

The renegade smiled, as if he rather liked that kind of talk, but he did not make any move to relieve his captive of his bonds. Within the next three minutes the entire party were moving through the wood toward some point of whose locality the prisoners had no idea.

Mr. Brainerd was glad, for he was hopeful it would give Fred the desperate chance for which he was waiting. During the last few minutes the father had regained some degree of hope, and he looked to the daring young lieutenant to give a good account of himself, should any opening appear.

As for Fred, himself, he was on the alert; but it must have been that the subtle Jake Golcher suspected the truth, for he took extreme precaution.

The ladies walked in front this time, with a couple of Indians on either side, McEwen and Brainerd came next, while Fred was honored with four warriors, who were as wide-awake as cats. The one on his right and the one on his left kept a hand on his shoulder, so as to detect the first move; and, as his wrists and his elbows were securely held together, it was inevitable that the first instant he made a break, no matter how skillfully done, that instant he would be killed.

Fred could not fail to see this, and he was too wise to give any pretext for violence toward him.

"They will not keep such close watch all the way," he thought. "We have a considerable distance to walk, and I shall have the chance after a little while – hello!"

To his chagrin the halt was made at that moment.

Hardly had the shadowy figures come to a standstill, when one of the Senecas dropped on his knees and began using a flint and steel, sending out a shower of sparks like that seen from an emery-wheel. In a few seconds a bright fire was under headway.

The Indians had simply changed their quarters – that was all. The curious thing about it was, the two places were no more than a couple of hundred yards apart, and were so alike that but for the starting of the new fire, the captives would have believed they were the same.

The meaning of this movement was a mystery to those chiefly concerned, but they could do nothing less than accept it.

When the camp-fire was crackling and threw out a bright glow in every direction, the resemblance to the spot just vacated was found to be still more striking.

There was the fallen tree, upon which the companions in captivity seated themselves, looking questioningly in each others' faces, but they now heard the plash and murmur of some small waterfall, that was not in their ears a brief while before. That was about the only proof that they had really made a change of base.

Under the directions of Jake Golcher, the fuel was heaped upon the fire, so that it was practically mid-day so far as captors and captives were concerned.

Mr. Brainerd looked reproachfully at Fred and said, in a low voice:

"I didn't expect to see you here when we stopped."

"And I hoped I wouldn't be, but there has not been the ghost of a chance."

"I don't see when or where we shall get a better one; I don't propose to sit here and let them tomahawk us to death, as Queen Esther did with those poor wretches this afternoon."

"We may not be able to prevent it; but as I made an effort then, so I will this time, when worst comes to worst."

"What in the name of the seven wonders was this change made for?"

"I can scarcely form an idea, but there must have been some cause."

CHAPTER XXXVIII

For a time Jake Golcher paid no attention to the whites, but watched the Senecas, while they plied the roaring fire, as though it gave him a good deal of satisfaction.

In counting the Indians, Fred Godfrey saw that two were missing, but before he formed any guess as to the cause of their absence they reappeared, their coming announced by the terrific squealing of a young pig, that they had managed to steal somewhere.

As they entered the circle of light, they were seen to be holding a plump little porker between them, while he struggled fiercely and emitted screams like the shriek of a locomotive whistle.

It was a piece of good fortune that they were enabled to secure such a prize, when so many of the fugitives from Wyoming almost perished with hunger.

The cries of the little porker were soon hushed in death, and he was dressed with considerable skill. Conveniences not being at hand for scalding him, it became necessary to prepare him for the table without that desirable process.

When he was ready for the coals the latter were raked out, and Aunt Peggy was invited to come forward and display her skill.

"I'd like to see me cook for you scand'lous villains," she snapped out; "I would do it if I had a lot of p'ison to put in the meat, but not otherwise."

Her refusal probably would have ended in serious consequences to herself, but Mr. Brainerd and Maggie urged her to comply, all saying they were extremely hungry, and in no other way would they be able to secure any food.

In deference to their wishes she stepped forward, and, being furnished with a keen hunting-knife by one of the warriors, plied it with the skill for which she became famous years before.

The pig was in prime condition, and, if properly prepared, would have made an enjoyable delicacy for the table.

But time and circumstances did not favor elaborate cookery, and Aunt Peggy, in grim silence, cut off slices that were nicely broiled by being skewered with green sticks, and held over the glowing coals.

In a few minutes a thin steak was browned and ready for the palate.

"I'll take that, old woman," said Jake Golcher, reaching out for it.

"I'd like to see you get it," said the lady, whipping it away from him; "you good-for-nothing, scand'lous villain, don't you know that ladies orter be waited on fust?"

And with these scarifying words, she walked over to Maggie and Eva, and, cutting the steak in two, handed half to each.

"That's just what I was going to do," growled Golcher, annoyed by the broad grin that illuminated Caucasian and American faces alike.

"You know it's a falsehood," replied Aunt Peggy, in the same peppery style; "you're too mean ever to think of anything decent and Christian-like, you vagabond – oh-h-h-h, how I ache to get hold of you!"

The Tory fought rather shy of her, for in sooth she was a lady to be dreaded.

Eva Brainerd walked straight to where her father sat, and said:

"Papa, I shall not eat a mouthful until you do."

"I can't eat very conveniently with my hands tied behind me, but I shall never consent to devour that and allow you to go hungry."

"But I can get more of Aunt Peggy."

"Perhaps so and perhaps not."

"Then we will eat it between us. There, you take a bite and I will do the same, and we will keep it up until nothing is left."

"That is a good arrangement," replied her parent, smiling at the ingenuity of the affectionate child, and complying with her request.

He took a good mouthful, and she followed. Eva forced the last bit upon her father, who, in spite of himself, was compelled to eat fully two-thirds of the piece, which, after all, was the proper thing to do.

Before the feast was finished Aunt Peggy had another slice ready, which was handed over to Maggie, who walked directly to where Fred Godfrey sat on the log.

"Brother Fred, this is for you."

He consented to share it with her as their parent was doing with little Eva, and of course she complied.

While this scene was going on the Indians were lolling near at hand, smoking their pipes, and exchanging a few guttural grunts. They were all on the ground, evidently in a more patient mood than Jake Golcher, who stood a short distance back from the camp-fire, scowling and angry, that he should be compelled to stand still and see the captives fed, while he was hungry and unable to obtain a mouthful.

Even Habakkuk McEwen was not forgotten, Maggie ministering to his wants, though, of course, she did not alternate the feasting as she did with Fred. Habakkuk asked her to do so, but she refused so pointedly that he did not repeat the request.

"This is interesting," muttered the angered Tory to himself, as he looked on; "that pig belongs to us, and we've got to set back and let them rebels swaller it before our eyes. I'll be hanged if I'll stand it."

He was fast working up to a dangerous point of anger, which was not mollified when he noticed that Aunt Peggy herself now and then placed a large piece in her mouth, after which her jaws worked with great vigor.

"See here, old woman," he called out, "that pork don't belong to you, and I reckon it's about time the owner got some."

He did not approach her, but he looked as savage as a sharpened tomahawk.

Aunt Peggy made no reply and acted as though she heard him not; but, had any one noticed her closely, he would have seen her jaws working more energetically than ever, while her eyes took on a little sharper gleam than before.

She, too, was rapidly reaching an explosive mood, although the particular individual against whom she felt the rising anger failed to take warning.

"She's the worst hag I ever seen," muttered Jake, glancing askance at her, but still keeping a respectful distance.

The Senecas sat somewhat apart in the same lolling attitudes, and some of them looked as if they anticipated what was coming.

A minute later, Aunt Peggy finished another slice, which she asked Maggie to take.

"Thank you, auntie, we have enough," replied our heroine, Eva saying the same.

"I think I could eat a few pounds more," remarked Habakkuk, "but I would prefer to see Mr. Golcher get something. He is a good fellow, and orter been sarved first."

"If none of you want it, I'll eat it myself," observed the ancient maiden, who thereupon began disposing of it.

"That's gone about fur enough!" exclaimed Golcher, striding toward her; "some folks haven't got no gratertude, and I'll teach you – "

As he uttered this threat, or rather partly uttered it, he was at Aunt Peggy's elbow in a wrathful mood. All at once, she whirled about, and sprang at him like a tigress.

"You'll teach me manners, will you? There! Take that! and THAT!"

The attack was so unexpected that Golcher threw up his empty hands in a weak way, and lowered his head, closing his eyes and trying to retreat, but she had grasped his long, straggling hair, and it came out by the handfuls.

Instantly all was confusion. Mr. Brainerd laughed, and the Senecas, as they sprang to their feet, made no effort to interfere. Indeed, there was strong reason to believe they enjoyed the strange scene.

Aunt Peggy scratched and pulled with the most commendable enthusiasm, and her victim howled with pain.

"Take her off!" he shouted, "or she will kill me!"

Eva and Maggie ran forward, but the Indians actually laughed, and the two girls were unable to restrain her until she had spent her vengeance. Her victim was in a sorry plight, and in his blind retreat he tumbled backward over the log, springing instantly to his feet, and actually dashing off in the darkness.

"There!" gasped Aunt Peggy, "I've been aching to get my hands on you, and now I feel better!"

At this juncture several of the Senecas uttered excited exclamations, for the discovery was made that during the hubbub one of the prisoners had escaped, and his name was Fred Godfrey.