Wyoming

CHAPTER XXX

It is necessary at this point that some attention should be given to the predecessor of our friends in captivity – Gravity Gimp.

The particulars of his capture will be recalled, it being somewhat similar to that of his followers, inasmuch as he was pounced upon and overwhelmed before he could make any effectual resistance, though, for a time, he kept things "moving."

But he was forced to succumb at last, and was led away by those whom he had fought so bravely, and into whose hands he dreaded falling aware as he was what fate awaited him.

"Be keerful," he called out, limping heavily, "I've got a game leg, and I want yer to play light on it."

Whether they understood his words or not is a small matter; but the American Indian is accustomed to the language of gesture, and when the African limped forward, as though unable to bear half the weight on one limb, they could not mistake what it meant.

The gun of the captive was taken from him, and, as he was such a miserable pedestrian just then, his hands were not bound behind him, as was the case with the prisoners afterwards taken.

Ordinarily, the rough usage given his captors during the struggle would have resulted in serious injury to some of them; but the Iroquois were too sinewy, lithe, and graceful on their feet to fare ill, and they gathered about him, with something akin to admiration, when he was conducted farther into the mountain, where they had a large camp-fire burning.

"I s'pose eberybody makes mistakes," muttered Gravity, moving slowly along; "leastways I'm purty sartin I made a wery big one, when I got too cur'us to know what dese willains was up to."

No indignity was offered him on the walk to the fire, which was burning a couple of hundred yards away, but he felt that nothing like mercy was to be expected from his captors.

The negro had proven his coolness and courage in more than one instance that day, and Maggie Brainerd asked herself whether the loyal fellow really knew what fear is.

But when Gimp reached the camp-fire, and saw Jake Golcher with other Indians grouped around him, his heart gave a throb of terror.

He knew that wretch too well to make any mistake concerning him. It was Gimp who, but a few hours before, had visited the worst kind of physical indignity on the Tory, who now possessed the chance to repay him.

Jake was sitting on a fallen tree, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, and his chin in his hands, looking into the glowing embers, and apparently only half listening to the guttural conversation going on among the Indians about him.

He had spent so much time with the Seneca branch of the Iroquois, that he understood their tongue quite well. But, as he slowly puffed at his short clay pipe, his thoughts were far away.

Most likely he was recalling the incidents of the day, that were a source of mixed pleasure and pain to him.

"The overthrow of the rebels was complete," he muttered, his face lighting up with passion. "It'll be a good many years before Wyoming will get over this, and I've got even with a lot of them that hain't used me well. There's Parker, who called me a lazy loafer two years ago, because I wouldn't pay him a little money I had borrowed. Well, I settled up with him to-day, and he'll never call anybody else such a disrespectful name agin.

"Then there's Sam Williams, that I used to go out hunting with, and who was considered a pretty good chap by some folks. He used to lend me money, and never cared whether I paid him back or not; but he undertook to lecture me once on my dooty, and said, if I didn't go to work, I never would be anybody, I've got too much spirit to stand any such insults as that, and, when I come on him to-day, I settled with him."

Dreadful thoughts were these to find such expression, and the renegade was silent a minute, until it seemed as if Satan got still a stronger hold upon him.

"But there's one man close by that I would give a thousand prisoners for," he added, puffing spitefully at his pipe, "and it looks as if I'm going to have him. Providence does favor the truly good," added the miscreant. "I've got the whole party penned up in a hole, and if they get away from us it will be the biggest thing of the kind ever done in these parts.

"I want to get hold of that Gimp, that stole my gun and gave me such a kicking that I feel six inches taller than ever before, and have to be mighty careful about settin' down. He's a sort of giant, but if we lay hands on him there'll be mighty little of him left when we get through.

"There's Maggie Brainerd, the prettiest gal that ever left Connecticut and settled in the Wyoming Valley. I knowed her when she was a little one, and then she was so purty that people used to stop her in the road, to kiss and admire her.

"She always acted kind toward me, and I used to think she was kinder tender and loving, and I b'leve now I might have got her, if that half-brother of hers, Fred Godfrey, hadn't come along and set her agin me."

The brows of the Tory contracted at the recollection of something that burned in his memory.

"A year ago, he was down here in the valley, and I feared there wasn't much chance for me with Maggie, so I thought I would shame him before the town to that extent he would never show his face in it again. He was talkin' in the store to a lot of our neighbors, and had enlisted, and he thought every young chap oughter. I said I didn't b'leve he had enough courage to fire a gun at a red coat, when he said he had enough to fire me out, if I didn't keep a civil tongue in my head.

"That's just what I wanted, for I had been building up my muscle for two weeks, with the very idee of whalin' him, and I sailed in.

"Wal," added the Tory, with a sigh, "the fight was over afore I'd fairly got into it. I come out of the winder with a sash round my neck, and if I hadn't struck agin Aunt Peggy, who was walkin' by, my neck would have been broken off short. I didn't get over that lambastin' for a month, but Fred Godfrey little thought when he jined the crowd in laughin' at me, that he had sealed his doom."

The face of the Tory flushed, for he was sure that he had the best reason to believe that he spoke the truth.

CHAPTER XXXI

"Yes," added Jake, with a sigh of something like pleasure; "it looks very much as though I've got a chance to even up my accounts with 'em all. The folks are having a good time on t'other side the river, and to-morrer, when Forty Fort surrenders, Wyoming will be wiped out so clean that the only way of telling where it has been will be by the ashes.

"I've got a lot of the best Senecas that ever took the war-path, and I've promised them the biggest kind of a reward if they succeed in scooping in the whole party. Queen Esther told 'em to go with me and do just as I directed, so they're bound to show the stuff they're made of. Gray Panther is their chief, and he's directing 'em, and he beats any Injin I ever heard tell of for downright cunning, and is as good as a bloodhound on the trail."

Thus it was that, although Jake Golcher was the nominal head of the war party, the renowned chief, Gray Panther, was guiding operations, and it is to that remarkable Seneca Indian that the success of the redskins in out-generaling the fugitives was due.

"I know that Maggie came near pegging out with a broken heart when her mother died, three years ago," continued Golcher, "and she is so attached to her father, brother, and sister, that she will do anything in her power to save harm coming to them."

This fact could not fail to suggest the course that had taken shape in his mind long before.

"We will capture them all; then I'll make known my terms: Maggie must agree to marry me; she will do it, too, if she makes the promise, and I'll agree to let all the rest go. I'll keep my word so far as the old man and Eva, and I guess the Aunt Peggy, is concerned; but there's two that I'll wipe out – Fred Godfrey and that Gravity Gimp.

"I may have to promise to let up on 'em, but I can fix it with Gray Panther, so they'll be accidentally killed; but I'll never feel easy till they're both underground. As for that nigger – " And taking out his pipe, he ground his teeth together, and clenched the fingers of the free hand, and then, looking up, saw Gravity Gimp, the African, standing before him.

"Good-evenin'," said the servant, bowing low, and making a salaam with his broad hand, inasmuch as he was without his hat; "I hopes I finds yer werry well dis ebenin."

Jake Golcher sprang to his feet, and his pipe dropped from his hand. It often happens that the very person of whom we are thinking turns up before us, but, although there was nothing supernatural in the appearance of the African, the renegade was startled for the moment into believing that such was the fact.

Quickly recovering, he muttered something, and sitting down again on the log, picked up his pipe, took a puff or two, and looking at the lame African, asked:

"Where did you come from? I thought you was Satan."

"Dat's purty rough on Satan; but I's Gravity Gimp, at your sarvice, and if it am all de same I'll sot down on de log beside yer, being dat I've got a tremenjus game leg."

As he spoke, Gravity limped to the fallen tree, and took his seat a short distance away, uttering a groan of pain, and nursing the limb as though his torture was great.

Jake Golcher was sure he never saw such impudence, but he concluded to humor the fellow for a while, until he could extract some information from him.

He was sorry his leg had been injured, for he would have liked to make him run the gauntlet, and now the suffering to which he should be doomed would have to take a different character.

The Tory first asked the Indians some questions, and gathered how the powerful negro had been captured. It was done under the direction of Gray Panther, whose hand appeared in many a skillful achievement that evening and the day following.

Golcher learned from the same chief that every movement of the fugitives had been noted, and that the whites had been deceived to such an extent that they were likely to walk into the trap the Senecas had set for them.

Jake was favorable to making an open attack on the whites, but the sachem assured him they could all be taken without the loss of any more warriors, and so it was left to the chief.

There was only one point in which the Senecas were at fault, and that was respecting the man who fired the second shot, that killed the Indian as he was leaping for the rocks from which to shoot at the fugitives.

They supposed it was discharged from within the cavern, and were unaware of the fact that Lieutenant Godfrey was so near his friends without being with them.

They did not learn of his cautious descent, and only discovered his presence among them after the capture of the African and the start made by the fugitives to leave the ravine.

Golcher was much interested in the news, and he urged Gray Panther to spare no effort to make his success complete, assuring him of a big reward, in addition to the praise of Queen Esther, who at that moment was engaged on the other side the river in torturing a number of prisoners.

The chief assured him that he had no cause for uneasiness, and then, turning about, withdrew with his warriors, leaving only a single one with Jake Golcher to guard the prisoner.

CHAPTER XXXII

While the conversation was going on between the Tory and Gray Panther, Gravity Gimp was rubbing and nursing his "game leg," with many sighs and groans, which he took care should be heard by those around him, while at the same time it did not annoy them.

"Sprained it, I s'pose," remarked Golcher, deeming it best to keep back his intentions toward the negro until after he should have extracted all the information he could.

"Wuss dan a strain," said Gravity, looking ruefully down at the limb and rubbing it with one hand.

"How can it be worse than a strain?"

"It's busted."

"You talk like a fool – what do you mean by bustin' a leg?"

"I mean dat it ain't no use any more – ain't wuth nuffin to dance de double shuffle wid."

"How did you hurt it?"

"Got struck by a cannon-ball dis arternoon – but I recovered from dat slight inconwenience, and I strained and broke it in two or three places a little while ago."

"How?"

"In flingin' Injins ober de rocks, I wrenched it."

The explanation was not very clear to Golcher, but he was satisfied the limb was badly sprained, and he cared nothing further. It rendered what might have been a dangerous prisoner comparatively harmless, which was a good thing while the main party of Indians were away, engaged in entrapping the fugitives, whose possession was so much more valuable.

"All you folks got into the cavern, down among the rocks over there, thinkin' you was safe, didn't you?"

"We crept in dar not 'cause we thought it war safe, but 'cause it war the bestest thing we could do."

"Do you know anything about Fred Godfrey?"

"Yes; he hab de honor ob my 'quaintance."

"That isn't what I mean: do you know where he is?"

"I tink he am ober on de oder side ob de riber slewing Injins and Tories."

It will be recollected that Gravity left the cavern before the lieutenant put in his appearance, and the African therefore knew nothing of his presence with his friends.

"Wal," growled Golcher, finding it hard to repress the anger that was gnawing at his heart; "the trouble to-day has been that too many of the rebels got slewed themselves; if it hadn't been for that, things would have gone different; but that Godfrey will be with the party up in the rocks afore long."

"Guess you're 'bout right, Massa Golcher."

"Do you know," suddenly asked Golcher turning on the negro, "that we're going to have every one of that party afore daylight?"

"No, I didn't know it; did you?"

"They'll be here inside of two hours, and then there'll be fun."

"Reckons dere'll be a little fun afore you cotches 'em."

"They're in the rocks, but we can rout them out whenever we want to; they think we don't know what they're doing, but Gray Panther hasn't missed anything."

"I noticed that Massa Brainerd didn't miss either, when he plugged dem Injuns dat was trying to sneak in behind the rocks."

"See here," exclaimed Golcher, turning upon him; "you'd better keep a civil tongue in your head."

"Dat's all right – I was jes' joking wid you – but, if you hain't any 'bjection, Massa Golcher, I'd like to know what yer gwine to do wid me? Am yer gwine ter take me up in York State and put me to work on a farm?"

"If you live a couple of hours longer, you'll be put through the sprouts."

"Put frough de sprouts," repeated Gimp, as if to himself; "wonder what dat means."

While this conversation was going on, the Indian who was keeping guard was seated on the other side the fire in a lounging attitude, and his head now and then bobbed down on his breast in a way that showed he was partly asleep.

Gravity Gimp did not appear to notice him, but he saw every movement, and, without appearing to do so, hitched a little closer to the Tory.

The latter seemed to conclude that nothing more was to be gained from the negro, and he ceased asking him questions.

The servant groaned and rubbed his leg with every appearance of great pain.

"Massa Golcher," said he, with a groan, "I'd be much obliged to yer, if you'll jes pull off my shoe and rub dat ankle for half an hour."

And as he made this astounding request he moved still nearer, and thrust his enormous shoe almost in the face of the renegade, who turned savagely upon him.

"I'll teach yer manners, you black – "

He rose to his feet and whipped out his knife as he spoke, but Gimp also came to the standing position, and he was a little quicker than the Tory. Golcher had drawn his weapon, but before he suspected the design of his assailant, Gimp lowered his head and ran like a steam-engine straight at him.

The iron-like skull struck Golcher "'midships" and knocked him over backwards, his heels going up in the air, while he described an almost complete somersault, with the breath gone from his body.

The drowsy Seneca roused up just in time to witness the performance, and to see the same battering-ram charging down upon him.

He turned to leap aside until he could draw his tomahawk, but he was a second too late, and the projectile took him in the pit of the stomach, and banged him against a neighboring tree with such violence that the breath left his body also, and there is reason to believe it never returned.

CHAPTER XXXIII

There was not a particle of lameness in the movements of Gravity Gimp as he went through this programme, but his actions were like those of an athlete.

Catching up the gun of the prostrate Indian, he was off like a shot, running with the speed of a deer among the trees, and with great risk, for the darkness was too dense to permit him to see where he was going.

"Dat ere pertendin' dat I was lame was a stroke ob gen'us," he muttered, with a huge grin, as he slackened his gait somewhat, "and, if it hadn't been for dat lameness, I'd been 'sassinated.

"Shouldn't wonder if dey did scoop in all de folks," he added, with a pang of fear, "and if dey does, why Aunt Peggy must go to buttin' de Injuns ober de same as I done. Sh!"

He listened for sounds of pursuit, but there was none, and he drew a sigh of relief, hoping that his friends were in as safe a situation as he.

Gray Panther, chief of the Senecas, conducted his portion of the programme, as we have already seen, with cunning and skill.

Fred Godfrey, Richard Brainerd, Maggie and Eva, Aunt Peggy, and Habakkuk McEwen were his prisoners, and within five minutes after they became such they were started, under the charge of the warriors, for the camp, where Jake Golcher was expecting them.

The hands of the males were tied behind them so securely that they felt there was no possibility of freeing themselves. Their weapons were removed, as a matter of course, but no one of the three females was offered any indignity by the Indians, who were carrying out the instructions of Jake Golcher himself.

Since the captors did not seem to feel any objection, several of the whites ventured on a few words. Habakkuk, however, as he stumbled along over the obstructions at the rear, felt in anything but a conversational mood, and for a time held his peace.

"These are the most scand'lous purceedings that I ever heard tell of," ventured Aunt Peggy, in her snappish way.

"You are right," said Fred Godfrey; "it is the most terrible reverse I ever saw."

"Oh, I don't mean that."

"What do you refer to?"

"That Injin actually tried to kiss me – didn't you see him?"

"No, I wasn't aware of it."

"I gave him one slap that he'll remember, I reckon!"

The situation was too solemn for Fred to utter the remark that would have come to his lip at any other time. He therefore directed his next words to Maggie, who was close to her father, and holding the hand of Eva.

"This looks pretty bad, Maggie," said he, in a low voice, "and it is hard to find we were mistaken, when I was so hopeful that we had passed all danger."

"So it is, but how many of our friends and neighbors have fared still more ill!"

"They are to be envied," said Mr. Brainerd, speaking for the first time, "for their woe is ended, and ours is to come."

"There may be hope," remarked the daughter, though it must be confessed she saw none; "we must not despair."

"It is well enough to talk about hoping on forever," said her father, who seemed more dejected than the others, "but every man that is born must sooner or later reach the hour when hope is ended: we struck the hour and minute just now."

"I'm disposed to hold out as long as any of you," said Fred Godfrey, "but I must own that I feel about as you do."

"And so does every one," added Mr. Brainerd, "for the days of miracles passed long ago; some of our escapes to-day came about as close to the miraculous as they could well do, and that may have led us to expect unreasonable things."

At this juncture Gray Panther seemed to think there was too much conversation going on, and in broken English he ordered all to keep their tongues still.

No one of the prisoners regretted the command, for it was a dismal thing to talk when their hearts were so oppressed.

The route they followed was through the wood, that was stony and rocky, and in the deep shadows it was anything but pleasing work. The captors kept close to the captives, so as to prevent any break for freedom on their part.

The distance was not far, but it was not yet passed, when something took place which caused some alarm, though none of the prisoners could tell what it was.

One of the Indians in front uttered a peculiar signal, which caused a halt on the part of every Seneca. Gray Panther hastened forward.

It was idle for Godfrey to look for any interference in their behalf, but he did feel, for a few brief seconds, something akin to such hope.

But Gray Panther speedily returned, and the march was resumed, with the same stillness and care as before.

What the cause of the interruption was, became known to none but the Senecas themselves.

A few minutes later, the glimmer of a light was seen among the trees, and as the faces of the party were turned in that direction, they knew it was the camp-fire that was their destination.

Only a few steps more were passed when the entire party, with the exception of the African servant, stood in the presence of Jake Golcher, the Tory.