CHAPTER V
"Do you want me to befriend you?" asked the renegade, bending his head down close to the scared countenance of Maggie Brainerd, smiling and trying to speak in so low a voice that no one else could catch his words.
"Of course I do; don't you see what danger we are in? Oh, Mr. Golcher – "
"Don't Mister me," he interrupted, with a reproving grin; "call me Jake."
"Oh, Jake, have you seen anything of father?"
"Where would I see him?"
"Why, he went out with the rest to fight the Indians and Tories, and you were with them."
"Oh, yes; I did see him," said Golcher, as though the incident was so slight that he had forgotten it for the time: "he fought well."
"Was he – was he – Oh, Jake, tell me? – was he hurt?"
"I don't think he got so much as a scratch; he was with three or four others, and they were getting in the best kind of work; but you know it was no use for any one; I saw that they would be shot down where they stood, so I ran up and told your father to follow me; you know that nobody dare touch him when I took charge. I led him and his friends back toward the mountains and stayed by them till all danger was over, and then I bade them good-bye: if they have taken the least care and done as I told them to do, they are a great deal safer than you are at this very minute."
Maggie Brainerd's heart sank within her. She knew that the story that Jake Golcher had just told her was without an iota of truth. He had lied so clumsily that he had not deceived her at all.
The very question which he had asked about her parent was proof that he had not seen him, and therefore could know nothing of him.
The young lady was shocked, but she was helpless. Her duty was to do her utmost for the safety of those who were now with her, and she was sure that Golcher could give great help, if he chose to do so.
"Jake," said she, speaking with all the earnestness of her nature, "this is a dreadful day for Wyoming; I can hardly realize what has taken place; I do not believe that any one on this side of the river is safe."
"Of course he isn't – that is, none of the rebels is; our folks are all right."
"Can you save us?"
"I don't know what's to hinder – that is, if I take the notion, but I don't feel like doing much for that spitfire of an aunt, that insulted me the last time that I called at your house."
"You musn't mind her peculiarities; she is a good woman, and then, you know, she is my friend."
"Well, that makes a good deal of difference – that's a fact," remarked Golcher, with such a grotesque attempt to look arch and loving, that the watchful African, instead of firing upon him as he had meant to do, smiled.
"I'm afeard he don't feel berry well; he'll feel a good deal worse if Aunt Peggy or me gets hold of him."
"And then," added Golcher, glancing at Gravity, "you heard the impudence of that servant."
"Because he is a servant you ought to excuse him; I should feel very sorry to have him suffer harm."
"I don't mind taking particular care of you and your little sister there, but I would prefer to leave Aunt Peggy, as you call her, and the darkey to shift for themselves."
"Then I do not want you to do anything for Eva and me," said Maggie, resolutely, feeling that she was throwing away invaluable time by holding converse with this man; "God has been better to us than we deserve, and we shall leave all with him."
She turned to move off, much to the relief of Aunt Peggy, who had hard work to hide her impatience, when Golcher saw that he had gone too far. Catching her arm, he said:
"Don't be so fast; where will you go, if you don't go with me?"
"Gravity is our guide."
"I haven't told you I wouldn't take care of you, have I?"
"But if you are unwilling to include all of us, I do not want your friendship."
"Then for the sake of you I will save you all, though nobody beside me would do so; but, Maggie, I'll expect a little better treatment from you when I come to your house again."
At this point Golcher saw that the patience of the young lady was exhausted. Her companions were ready to chide her for halting to speak to him, though the words that passed took but a few minutes. He reached out his hand to lay it on her arm, but she drew back.
"Maggie," said he, warningly; "when I came down the river bank, I left six Seneca warriors among the trees back there; they are tired waiting for me; their guns are loaded, and I have only to raise my hand over my head to have 'em fire every one of 'em; if they do it, they will all be pointed this way."
Maggie Brainerd was sure the Tory spoke the truth.
"You will not do that, Jake, I am sure."
"Not if you act right; follow me."
Maggie reached out her hand as an invitation for Eva to come to her; but Aunt Peggy grasped one of the little palms in her own, for she had overheard the invitation. When Maggie looked around, her aunt compressed her thin lips and shook her head in a most decided fashion.
"No, ma'am; Eva stays here: if you want to go off with that scamp you can do so, but the rest of us don't."
"But, aunt, what shall we do? There's no escape for us unless we put ourselves in his care; Jake has promised to see that no harm befalls us from the Indians."
"Ugh!" exclaimed the aunt, with a shudder of disgust: "I'd rather trust myself with the worst Indians that are now in the valley than with him."
"Them's my sentiments," broke in Gravity; "we don't want to fool away any more time with him."
"Then you'll take the consequences," said the Tory, trembling with anger. "I offered to protect you and you refused to have me; I'll still take care of Maggie and Eva, but as for you others, you shall see – "
CHAPTER VI
The last few sentences that passed between Maggie Brainerd and Golcher, the Tory, were heard, not only by Aunt Maggie, but by the African servant.
This was due to the fact that the renegade in his excitement forgot his caution, besides which the servant took occasion to approach quite close to the two.
A very brief space of time was occupied in the conversation, but brief as it was, Gravity was resolved that it should end. He did not believe the declaration of Golcher that he had a party of half-a-dozen Senecas within call, though it was possible that he spoke the truth; but beyond a doubt the savages were so numerous that a summons from the Tory would bring a number to the spot.
When, therefore, Jake adjusted his lips for a signal, Gravity bounded forward and caught him by the throat.
"Don't be in a hurry to let out a yawp; if dere's any hollerin' to be done, I'll take charge of it."
Golcher was as helpless as a child in the vise-like grip of those iron fingers. He not only was unable to speak, but he found it hard work to breathe.
Dropping his gun, he threw up both hands in a frantic effort to loosen the clutch of those fingers.
"Why, Gravity," said the horrified Maggie; "I'm afraid you will strangle him."
"And I'm afraid I won't," replied the African, putting on a little more pressure.
Gravity, however, had no intention of proceeding to extremities, though he might have found justification in so doing. He regulated the pressure of his powerful right hand so that his victim, by putting forth his best efforts, was able to get enough breath to save himself.
"Young man," said Gravity, still holding him fast, "I don't think dis am a healthy place for you; de best ting you can do am to leave a little sooner dan possible."
"Let – me – let – me – go!" gurgled Golcher, still vainly trying to free himself.
"I don't find dat I've got much use for you, so I'll let you off, but de next time I lays hand onto you, you won't got off so easy, and bein' as you am goin', I'll give you a boost."
To the delight of Aunt Peggy and the horror of Maggie Brainerd, Gravity Gimp now wheeled the Tory around as though he were the smallest child, and actually delivered a kick that lifted him clear of the ground.
Not only once, but a second and third time was the indignity repeated. Then, with a fierce effort, Golcher wrenched himself free from the terrible fingers on the back of his neck, and, plunging among the trees, vanished.
"Dat ar might come handy," said Gravity, picking up the loaded musket which the panic-stricken Tory had left behind him and handing it to Aunt Peggy, who asked, with a shudder:
"Do you s'pose I would touch it?"
"Let me have it," said Maggie; "I consider it fortunate that we have two guns with us."
It was a good thing, indeed, for Maggie Brainerd, like many of the brave maidens of a hundred years ago, was an expert in handling the awkward weapons of our Revolutionary sires. With this at her command, the chances were she would be heard from before the rising of the morrow's sun.
But, if Jake Golcher was a mild enemy before, it was certain he was now an unrelenting one. He would neglect no effort to avenge himself upon all for the indignity he had received.
The African understood this, and he lost no time in getting away from the spot with the utmost speed.
It was now about five o'clock in the afternoon, but it was the eve of the Fourth of July, and the days were among the longest in the year. It would not be dark for three hours, and who could tell what might take place in that brief period?
Extremely good fortune had attended our friends thus far, but it was not reasonable to expect it to continue without break.
The Tory was scarcely out of sight when Gravity started on a trot down the bank, with the others close behind him.
"Bus'ness hab got to be pushed on de jump," he said, by way of explanation; "we ain't done wid dat chap yet."
It was scarcely a minute later when he uttered an exclamation of thankfulness, and those directly behind saw him stoop down and, grasping the prow of a small flat-boat or scow, draw it from beneath the undergrowth and push it into the water.
Such craft are not managed by oars, and Gimp handed a long pole to Maggie, saying:
"Use dat de best ye kin, and don't lose no time gittin' to de oder shore."
"But what are you going to do, Gravity?"
"I'se gwine wid you, but I'm afeard de boat won't hold us all, and I'll hab to ride on de outside."
The Susquehanna is generally quite shallow along shore, and it was necessary to push the scow several yards before the water was found deep enough to float it with its load.
Gravity laid the two guns within the boat, and then, picking up the petite Maggie, hastily carried her the short distance and placed her dry-shod within, where she immediately assumed control by means of the pole, which was a dozen feet in length.
Aunt Peggy and Eva were deposited beside her, by which time the scow was sunk within a few inches of the gunwales: had the African followed them, it would have been swamped.
As it was, the faithful negro was assuming great risk, for, as have stated, he could not swim a stroke; but the circumstances compelled such a course, and he did not hesitate.
"You see, folks," said he, as he began shoving the craft out into the river; "dat dis wessel won't carry any more passengers."
Just then he stepped into a hole, which threw him forward on his face with a loud splash, his head going under and nearly strangling him. He was thoughtful enough to let go the boat, and recovered himself with considerable effort, after causing a slight scream from Eva, who was afraid he was going to drown.
The freedom from immediate danger ended when the fugitives put out from the shore.
The suddenness of the defeat, pursuit, and massacre at Wyoming prevented anything like the use of boats by the fleeing patriots, who were beset by a merciless foe.
Had the scow been near where the main stream of fugitives were rushing into the river and striving to reach the opposite bank, the boat would not have kept afloat for a minute. It not only would have been grasped by a score of the fugitives, but it would have become the target for a number of rifles, which could hardly have failed to kill all the occupants.
The stream rapidly deepened, and by and by Gimp was up to his neck and moving rather gingerly, with his two broad hands resting on the stern of the boat.
Maggie Brainerd stood erect in the craft, pole in hand, and, bending slightly as she pressed the support against the river bottom, held on until it was almost beyond her reach, when she withdrew it, and, reaching forward, placed the lower end against the bottom again, shoving the awkward vessel with as much skill as the negro himself could have shown.
Aunt Peggy, as trim and erect as ever, was seated near the prow, while Eva nestled at her feet with her head in her lap. When they observed how deep the scow sank in the water, naturally enough their fears were withdrawn from the great calamity, and centered upon the one of drowning.
The ancient lady glanced askance at the turbid current, while Eva turned pale and shivered more than once, as she looked affrightedly at the hungry river that seemed to be climbing slowly up the frail partition which kept it away from the fugitives.
Suddenly the feet of Gravity failed to reach bottom, and, sinking down until his ears and mouth were scarcely above the surface, he bore slightly upon the support and began threshing the water with his feet, so that at a distance the scow looked as if it had a steam screw at the stern driving it forward.
This rather cumbersome means of propulsion really accomplished more than would be supposed. Despite the fact that the African could not float himself, he managed his pedal extremities with skill, and the boat was quick to respond.
CHAPTER VII
Meanwhile, Lieutenant Fred Godfrey found himself mixed up in some events of a stirring character.
It will be recalled that while hunting for his friends he was told that they had taken to a flat-boat, or scow, and were probably across the Susquehanna.
If such were the fact, the true course for Fred was to follow them without a second's delay.
His informant no doubt meant to tell the truth, but he had given a wrong impression.
It was true, as has been shown, that the female members of the Brainerd family had started across the river under charge of the herculean Gravity Gimp, but Mr. Brainerd himself was still on the side where the battle took place, though his son believed he was with the others that had taken to the boat.
Fred was making his way as best he could to the river side, when he became aware that he had attracted the notice of several Indians, who made for him. In the general flurry he did not notice the alarming fact till the party was almost upon him. Then he turned and fired among them, threw away his gun, and made for the river at the top of his speed.
He was remarkably fleet of foot, and in a fair race would have held his own with any Iroquois in Wyoming Valley; but there was no telling when or where some more of the dusky foes would leap up and join in the pursuit.
It was fortunate, perhaps, that the Susquehanna was so near, for the pursuit was no more than fairly begun when it was reached. Knowing he would be compelled to swim for life, he ran as far out in the water as he could, and then took what may be called a tremendous "header," throwing himself horizontally through the air, but with his head a little lower than the rest of the body, and with his arms extended and hands pressed palm to palm in front.
He struck the water at a point beyond his depth, and drawing in one deep inspiration as he went beneath, he swam with might and main until he could hold his breath no longer.
When he rose to the surface it was a long way beyond where he went under, and much farther than where the Indians were looking for him to reappear.
But they were ready with cocked guns, and the moment the head came to view they opened fire; but Fred expected that, and waiting only long enough to catch a mouthful of air, he went under and sped along like a loon beneath the surface.
Every rod thus gained increased his chances, but it did not by any means remove the danger, for it takes no very skillful marksman to pick off a man across the Susquehanna, and many a fugitive on that fateful day fell after reaching the eastern shore.
Working with his usual energy, Fred Godfrey soon found himself close to Monocacy Island, covered as it was with driftwood and undergrowth, and upon which many of the settlers had taken refuge.
Almost the first person whom he recognized was the middle-aged friend, who told him about the escape of the Brainerd family in the scow that Maggie and the servant had propelled across the Susquehanna.
This friend was now able to add that he had seen them crossing at a point considerably below the island. He saw them fired at by the Indians and Tories on shore, but he was satisfied that no one of the little company was struck.
To the dismay of the youth, the neighbor assured him that Mr. Brainerd, his father, was not with the company.
This made another change in the plans of the son. Quite hopeful that those who had crossed the river were beyond danger, his whole solicitude was now for his beloved parent. Despite the danger involved, he resolved to return to the western shore, and to stay there until he learned about his parent.
Fred was too experienced, however, to act rashly. He carefully watched his chance and swam down the stream until he was well below the swarm of fugitives, and so managed to reach the shore without detection, or rather without recognition, since it was impossible that he should escape observation.
Finally, he stepped out of the water and went up the bank, without, as he believed, attracting attention, and, suppressing all haste, walked in the direction of Forty Fort.
The battle-field, whereon the famous monument was afterwards erected, was about two miles above Forty Fort, where a feeble garrison was left when Colonel Zebulon Butler marched up the river bank, and met the Tories and Indians on that July afternoon.
Fred had landed at a point near the battle-ground, and he was in doubt whether to make search through the surrounding wood and marsh, or to steal down the river to the fort in the hope of finding his father there.
Many of the fugitives in their wild flight had thrown away their weapons (as indeed Fred Godfrey himself had done), so that it was an easy matter for him to find a gun to take the place of the one from which he had parted.
The youth made up his mind to visit the fort, and he had taken a dozen steps in that direction, when with whom should he come face to face but his beloved father himself?
The meeting was a happy one indeed, the two embracing with delight.
The father had no thought that his son had reached Wyoming, though he knew that Washington had been asked to send them re-enforcements.
Fred told the good news about the rest of the family: it was joy indeed to the parent, who was on his way to the river bank to look for them at the time he met his son.
Mr. Brainerd said that he had fought as long as there was any hope, when he turned and fled with the rest. It was the same aimless effort to get away, without any thought of the right course to take; but he was more fortunate than most of the others, for he succeeded in reaching the cover of the woods without harm.
"The best thing for us to do," said the parent, "is to go up the river so as to get above the point where, it seems, the most danger threatens."
"You mean toward Fort Wintermoot – that is, where it stood, for I see that it has been burned."
"Yes, but we needn't go the whole distance; night isn't far off, and it will be a hard task to find the folks after we get across."
Accordingly, father and son moved to the north, that is up the western bank of the river. This took them toward Fort Wintermoot, which was still smoking, and toward Fort Jenkins, just above. At the same time they were leaving the scene of the struggle a short time before.
Mr. Brainerd had no weapon, while his son carried the newly-found rifle and his two pistols. He had drawn the charges of these and reloaded them, so that they were ready for use.
"There's one thing that ought to be understood," said Mr. Brainerd, after they had walked a short distance; "and that is what is to be done by the survivor in case one of us falls."
"If I should be shot or captured," said Fred, impressively, "don't waste any time in trying to help me, but do all you can to get across the river, rejoin the family, and push on toward Stroudsburg; for I don't believe you'll be safe at any point this side."
"I promise you to do my utmost in that direction; and, if it should be my misfortune to fall into their hands, you must not imperil your life for me."
"I shall be careful of what I do," said Fred, refusing to make any more definite pledge, after having secured that of his companion not to step aside to befriend him in the event of misfortune.
Little did either dream that the test was so close at hand.