CHAPTER XIV
NAI TIOGA!
How my proper senses resisted the swoon that threatened them I do notknow; but when the lynx, too, lifted a menacing and flattened head onhuman shoulders; and when the wolverine also stood out in human-likeshadow against the foggy water, I knew that these ghostly things thatstirred my hair were no hobgoblins at all, but living men. And theclogged current of my blood flowed free again, and the sweat on my skincooled.
The furry ears of the wolf-man, pricked up against the vaguely lustrousbackground of the river, fascinated me. For all the world those pointedears seemed to be listening. But I knew they were dead and dried; thata man's eyes were gazing through the sightless sockets of the beast.
From somewhere in the darkness the Mohican came gliding on his bellyover the velvet carpet of the moss.
"Andastes," he whispered scornfully; "they wear the heads of the beastswhose courage they lack. Fling a stone among them and they willscatter."
As I felt around me in the darkness for a fragment of loose rock, theMohican arrested my arm.
"Wait, Loskiel. The Andastes hang on the heels of fiercer prowlers,smelling about dead bones like foxes after a battle. Real men can notbe far away."
We lay watching the strange and grotesque creatures in the starlight;and truly they seemed to smell their way as beasts smell; and they wereas light-footed and as noiseless, slinking from bush to bush, lurkingmotionless in shadows, nosing, listening, prowling on velvet pads tothe very edges of our rock escarpment.
"They have the noses of wild things," whispered the Mohican uneasily."Somewhere they have found something that belongs to one of us, and,having once smelled it, have followed."
I thought for a moment.
"Do you believe they found the charred fragments of my pouch-flap?Could they scent my scorched thrums from where I now lie? Only a houndcould do that! It is not given to men to scent a trail as beasts scentit running perdu."
The Mohican said softly:
"Men of the settlement detect no odour where those of the open perceivea multitude of pungent smells."
"That is true," I said.
"It is true, Loskiel. As a dog scents water in a wilderness and comesto it from afar, so can I also. Like a dog, too, can I wind the hiddenpartridge brood--though never the nesting hen--nor can a mink do thatmuch either. But keen as the perfume of a bee-tree, and certain as therank smell of a dog-fox in March--which even a white man candetect--are the odours of the wilderness to him whose only home it is.And even as a lad, and for the sport of it, have I followed and foundby its scent alone the great night-butterfly, marked brown and crimson,and larger than a little bat, whose head bears tiny ferns, and whosewings are painted with the four quarters of the moon. Like crushedsumac is the odour of it, and in winter it hides in a bag of silk."
I nodded, my eyes following the cautious movements of the Andastesbelow; and again and again I saw their heads thrown buck, noses to thestars, as though sniffing and endeavouring to wind us. And to me it washorrid and unhuman.
For an hour they were around the river edge and the foot of thehillock, trotting silently and uneasily hither and thither, alwaysseemingly at fault. Then, apparently made bold by finding no trace ofwhat they hunted, they ranged this way and that at a sort of gallop,and we could even hear their fierce and whining speech as they huddleda moment to take counsel.
Suddenly their movements ceased, and I clutched the Mohican's arm, as aswift file of shadows passed in silhouette along the river's brink, oneafter another moving west--fifteen ghostly figures dimly seem butunmistakable.
"Senecas," breathed the Mohican.
The war party defiled at a trot, disappearing against the fringinggloom. And after them loped the Andastes pack, scurrying, hurrying,running into thickets and out again, but ever hastening along theflanks of their silent and murderous masters, who seemed to notice themnot at all.
When they had gone, the Mohican aroused the Oneidas, and all night longwe lay there behind the rocks, rifles in rest, watching the river.
What we awaited came with the dawn, and, in the first grey pallour ofthe breaking day, we saw their advanced guard; Cayugas and Senecas ofthe fierce war-chief Hiokatoo, every Indian stripped, oiled, headshaved, and body painted for war; first a single Cayuga, scoutingswiftly; then three furtive Senecas, then six, then a dozen, followedby their main body.
Doubtless they had depended on the Andastes and advanced guard ofSenecas for flankers, for the main body passed without even a glance upat the hilly ground where we lay watching them.
Then there was a break in the line, an interval of many minutes beforetheir pack horses appeared, escorted by green-coated soldiers.
And in the ghostly light of dawn, I saw Sir John Johnson riding at thehead of his men, his pale hair unpowdered, his heavy, colourless facesunk on his breast. After him, in double file, marched his regiment ofGreens; then came more Indians--Owagas, I think--then that shamelessvillain, McDonald, in bonnet and tartan, and the heavy claymore a-swingon his saddle-bow, and his blue-eyed Indians swarming in the rear.
Lord, what a crew! And as though that were not enough to affront therising sun, comes riding young Walter Butler, in his funereal cloak,white as a corpse under the black disorder of his hair, and staring atnothing like a damned man. On his horse's heels his ruffianly Rangersmarched in careless disorder but with powerful, swinging strides thatset their slanting muskets gleaming like ripples glinting athwart awindy pond, and their canteens all a-bobbing.
Then, hunched on his horse, rode old John Butler--squat, swarthy,weather-roughened, balancing on his saddle with the grace of a choppingblock; and after him more Rangers crowding close behind.
Behind these, quite alone, stalked an Indian swathed in a scarletblanket edged with gold, on which a silver gorget glittered. He seemedscarce darker than I in colour; and if he wore paint I saw none. Therewas only a scarlet band of cloth around his temples, and theflight-feather of the white-crested eagle set there low above the leftear and slanting backward.
"Brant!" I whispered to the Sagamore; and I saw him stiffen to verystone beside me; and heard his teeth grate in his jaws.
Then, last of all, came the Keepers of the Eastern Gate, the flower ofthe warriors of the Long House--the Mohawks.
They passed in the barbaric magnificence of paint and feather andshining steel, a hundred lithe, light-stepping warriors, riflesswinging a-trail, and gorgeous beaded sporrans tossing at every stride.
An interval, then the first wary figure of the lurking rear-guard,another, half a dozen, smooth-bore rifles at a ready, scanning riverand thicket. Every one of them looked up at our craggy knoll as theyglided along its base; two hesitated, ran half way up over the rockescarpment, loitered for a few moments, then slunk off, hastening tojoin their fellows.
After a long while a single Seneca came speeding, and disappeared inthe wake of the others.
The motley Army of the West had passed.
And it was a terrible and an infamous sight to me, who had known thesemen under other circumstances to see the remnant of the landed gentryof Tryon County now riding the wilderness like very vagabonds, squiredby a grotesque horde of bloody renegades.
To what a doleful pass had these gentlemen come, who lately had solorded it among us--these proud and testy autocrats of County Tryon,with their vast estates, their baronial halls, their servants,henchmen, tenantry, armed retainers, slaves?
Where were all these people now? Where were their ladies in theirLondon silks and powder? Where were their mistresses, theirdistinguished guests? Where was my Lord Dunmore now--the great Murray,Earl of Dunmore and Brent Meester to unhappy Norfolk! And, alas, wherewas the great and good Sir William--and where was Sir William's friend,Lady Grant, and the fearless Duchess of Gordon, and the dark and lovelyLady Johnson, and the pretty ladies of Guy Johnson, of Colonel Butler,of Colonel Claus? Where was Sir John's pitifully youthful andunfortunate lady, and her handsome brother, crippled at Oriskany, andthe gentle, dark-eyed sister
of Walter Butler, and his haughty mother?All either dead or prisoners, or homeless refugees, or exiles living onthe scant bounty of the Government they had suffered for so loyally.
The merciless Committee of Sequestration had seized Johnson Hall, FortJohnson, Guy Park, Butlersbury; Fish House was burned; Summer HousePoint lay in ashes, and the charming town built by Sir William was nowa rebel garrison, and the jail he erected was their citadel, flying aflag that he had never heard of when he died.
All was gone--gone the kilted Highlanders from the guard house at theHall; gone the Royal Americans with all their bugle-horns and clarionsand scarlet pageantry; gone the many feathered chieftains who hadgathered so often at Guy Park, or the Fort, or the Hall. Mansions,lands, families, servants, all were scattered and vanished; and of allthat Tryon County glory only these harassed and haggard horsemenremained, haunting the forest purlieus of their former kingdoms withhatred in their hearts, and their hands red with murder. Truly, the RedBeast we hunted these three years through was a most poisonous thing,that it should belch forth such pests as Lord George Germaine, andLoring, and Cunningham, and turn the baronets and gentry of CountyTryon into murdering and misshapen ghouls!
When the sun rose we slung pack and pulled foot. And all that day wetravelled without mischance; and the next day it was the same,encountering nothing more menacing than peeled and painted trees, wheresome scouting war-party of the enemy had written threats and boasts,warning the "Boston people" away from the grizzly fastnesses of thedread Long House, and promising a horrid vengeance for every mile ofthe Dark Empire we profaned.
And so, toward sundown, the first picket of General Sullivan's armychallenged us; and my Indians shouted: "Nai Tioga!" And presently weheard the evening gun very near.
Signs of their occupation became more frequent every minute now; therewere batteaux and rafts being unloaded at landing places, heavilyguarded by Continental soldiery; canoes at carrying places, brush hutserected along the trail, felled trees, bushes cut and lying in piles,roads being widened and cleared, and men everywhere going cheerilyabout their various affairs.
We encountered the cattle-guard near to a natural meadow along a tinybinikill, and they gave us an account of how Brant had fallen uponMinisink and had slain more than a hundred of our people along theDelaware and Neversink. And I saw my Indians listening with grimcountenances while their eyes glowed like coals. As soon as we fordedthe river, we passed a part of Colonel Proctor's artillery, parleyed ina clearing, where a fine block-fort was being erected; and there weremany regimental wagons and officers' horses and batt-horses and cattleto be seen there, and great piles of stores in barrels, sacks, skins,and willow baskets.
As we passed the tents of a foot regiment, the 3rd New Hampshire Line,one of their six Ensigns, Bradbury Richards, recognized me and cameacross the road to shake my hand, and to inform me that a small scoutwas to go out to reconnoitre the Indian town of Chemung; and that wewould doubtless march thither on the morrow.
With Richards came also my old friend Ezra Buell, lately lieutenant inmy own regiment, but now a captain in the 3rd New York Continentals,and a nephew of that Ezra Buell who ran the Stanwix survey in '69 andmarried a pretty Esaurora girl while marking the Treaty Line.
"Well!" says Ezra, shaking my hand, and: "How are you lazy people upthe river, and what are you doing there?"
"Damming the lake," said I, "whilst you damn us for making you wait."
Bradbury Richards laughed, saying that they themselves had but justcome up, admitting, however, that there had been some little cursingconcerning our delay.
"It has been that way with us, too," said I, "but it is the rebel'Grants' we curse, and the Ethan Allens and John Starks, andtreacherous Green Mountain Boy's, who would shoot us in the backs ormake a dicker with Sir Henry sooner than lift a finger to obey the lawsof the State they are betraying."
"So hot and yet so young!" said Buell, laughing, "and after a longtrail, too--" glancing at my Indians, "and another in view already! Butyou were ever an uncompromising youngster, Loskiel."
"Your regiment has marched for Canajoharie," I said. "When do you goa-tagging after it?"
"This evening with the headquarter's guide, Heoikim, and the expressrider, James Cooke. Lord, what a dreary business!"
"Better learn the news we have concerning your back trail before youstart. Ask Captain Franklin to mention it to the General."
"Certainly," said Buell. "I would to God my regiment were ordered herewith the rest of them, I'm that sick of the three forts and thescalping-party fighting on the Schoharie."
"It's what you are likely to get for a long while yet," said I. "Andnow will you or Richards guide me and my party to headquarters?"
"Will you mess with us?" said Richards. "I'll speak to ColonelDearborn."
I said I would with pleasure, if free to do so, and we walked onthrough the glorious sunset light, past camp after camp, very smokywith green fires. And I saw three more block-houses being builded, andarmed with cannon.
The music of Colonel Proctor's Artillery Regiment was playing "YankeeDoodle" near headquarters as we sighted the General's marquee, and themartial sounds enthralled me.
One of the General's aides-de-camp, a certain Captain Dayton, met usmost politely, detained my Indians with tobacco and pipes, andconducted me straight to the General, who, he assured me, happened tobe alone. Having seen our General on various occasions, I recognizedhim at once, although he was in his banyan, having, I judged, beenbathing himself in a small, wooden bowl full of warm water, which stoodon the puncheon flooring near, very sloppy.
He received me most civilly and listened to my report with interest andpoliteness, whilst I gave him what news I had of Clinton and how it waswith us at the Lake, and all that had happened to my scout of six--thedeath of the St. Regis and the two Iroquois, the treachery of the Erieand his escape, the murder of the Stockbridge--and how we witnessed thedefile of Indian Butler's motley but sinister array headed northwest onthe Great Warrior Trail. Also, I gave him as true and just an accountas I could give of the number of soldiers, renegades, Indians, andbatt-horses in that fantastic and infamous command.
"Where are your Indians?" he asked bluntly.
I informed him, and he sent his aide to fetch them.
General Sullivan understood Indians; and I am not at all sure that myservices as interpreter were necessary; but as he said nothing to thecontrary, I played my part, presenting to him the stately Sagamore,then the Grey-Feather, then the young warrior, Tahoontowhee, who fairlyquivered with pride as I mentioned the scalps he had taken on his firstwar-path.
With each of my Indians the General shook hands, and on each waspleased to bestow a word of praise and a promise of reward. For awhile, through medium of me, he conversed with them, and particularlywith the Sagamore, concerning the trail to Catharines-town; and,seeming convinced and satisfied, dismissed us very graciously, tellingan aide to place two bush-huts at our disposal, and otherwise see thatwe lacked nothing that could be obtained for our comfort and good cheer.
As I saluted, he said in a low voice that he preferred I should remainwith the Mohican and Oneidas until the evening meal was over. Which Itook to indicate that any rum served to my Indians must be measured outby me.
So that night I supped with my red comrades in front of our bush-huts,instead of joining Colonel Dearborn's mess. And I was glad I did so;and I allowed them only a gill of rum. After penning my report by thelight of a very vile torch, and filing it at headquarters, I was sotired that I could scarce muster courage to write in my diary. But Idid, setting down the day's events without shirking, though I yawnedlike a volcano at every pen-stroke.
Captains Franklin and Buell, in high spirits, came just as I finished,desiring to learn what I had to say of the road to Otsego; but when Iinformed them they went away looking far more serious than when theyarrived.
A few minutes later I saw the scout march out, bound for Chemung--asmall detachment of the 2nd Jersey, one Stockbridge Indian, and aC
oureur-de-Bois in very elegant deerskin shirt and gorgeous leggins.Captain Cummins led them.
As they left, Captain Dayton arrived to take me again to the General.There was a throng of officers in the marquee when I was announced, butevidently by some preconcerted understanding all retired as soon as Ientered.
When we were alone, the General very kindly pointed to a camp stool athis elbow and requested me to be seated; and for a little while he saidnothing, but remained leaning with both elbows on his camp table,seeming to study space as though it were peopled with unpleasantpictures.
However, presently his symmetrical features recovered pleasantly fromabstraction, and he said:
"Mr. Loskiel, it is said of you that, except for the Oneida Sachem,Spenser, you are perhaps the most accomplished interpreter Guy Johnsonemployed."
"No," I said, "there are many better interpreters, my General, but few,perhaps, who understand the most intimate and social conditions of theLong House better than do I."
"You are modest in your great knowledge, Mr. Loskiel."
"No, General, only, knowing as much as I do, I also perceive how muchmore there is that I do not know. Which makes me wary of committingmyself too confidently, and has taught me that to vaunt one's knowledgeis a dangerous folly."
General Sullivan laughed that frank, manly, and very winning laugh ofhis. Then his features gradually became sombre again.
"Colonel Broadhead, at Fortress Pitt, sent you a supposed Wyandotte whomight have been your undoing," he said abruptly. "He is a cautiousofficer, too, yet see how he was deceived! Are you also likely to bedeceived in any of your Indians?"
"No, sir."
"Oh! You are confident, then, in this matter!"
"As far as concerns the Indians now under my command."
"You vouch for them?"
"With my honour, General."
"Very well, sir.... And your Mohican Loup--he can perform what he haspromised? Guide us straight to Catharines-town, I mean?"
"He has said it."
"Aye--but what is your opinion of that promise?"
"A Siwanois Sagamore never lies."
"You trust him?"
"Perfectly. We are blood-brothers, he and I."
"Oho!" said the General, nodding. "That was cunningly done, sir."
"No, sir. The idea was his own."
General Sullivan laughed again, playing with the polished gorget at histhroat.
"Do you never take any credit for your accomplishments, Mr. Loskiel?"he inquired.
"How can I claim credit for that which was not of my own and properplotting, sir?"
"Oh, it can be done," said the General, laughing more heartily. "Asksome of our brigadiers and colonels, Mr. Loskiel, who desireadvancement every time that heaven interposes to save them from theirown stupidities! Well, well, let it go, sir! It is on a differentmatter that I have summoned you here--a very different business, Mr.Loskiel--one which I do not thoroughly comprehend.
"All I know is this: that we Continentals are warring with Britain andher allies of the Long House, that our few Oneida and StockbridgeIndians are fighting with us. But it seems that between the Indians ofKing George and those who espouse our cause there is a deeper andbloodier and more mysterious feud."
"Yes, General."
"What is it?" he asked bluntly.
"A religious feud--terrible, implacable. But this is only between thedegraded and perverted priesthood of the Senecas and our Oneidas andMohicans, whose Sachems and Sagamores have been outraged and affrontedby the blasphemous mockeries of Amochol."
"I have heard something of this."
"No doubt, sir. And it is true. The Senecas are different. They belongnot in the Long House. They are an alien people at heart, and seem morenearly akin to the Western Indians, save that they share with theConfederacy its common Huron-Iroquois speech. For although theirensigns sit at the most sacred rite of the Confederacy, perhaps notdaring in Federal Council to reveal what they truly are, I amconvinced, sir, that of the Seneca Sachems the majority are at heartpagans. I do not mean non-Christians, of course; they are that anyway;but I mean they are degenerated from the more noble faith of theIroquois, who, after all, acknowledge one God as we do, and have becomethe brutally superstitious slaves of their vile and perverted priests.
"It is the spawn of Frontenac that has done this. What the WyomingWitch did at Wyoming her demons will do hereafter. Witchcraft, thefrenzied worship of goblins, ghouls, and devils, the sacrifice toBiskoonah, all these have little by little taken the place of thegrotesque but harmless rites practiced at the Onon-hou-aroria. Amocholhas made it sinister and terrible beyond words; and it is making of theSenecas a swarm of fiends from hell itself.
"This, sir, is the truth. The orthodox priesthood of the Long Houseshudders and looks askance, but dares not interfere. As for Sir John,and Butler, and McDonald, what do they care as long as their Senecasare inflamed to fury, and fight the more ruthlessly? No, sir, only thepriesthood of our own allies has dared to accept the challenge fromAmochol and his People of the Cat. Between these it is now a war ofutter extermination. And must be so until not one Erie survives, anduntil Amochol lies dead upon his proper altar!"
The General said in a low voice:
"I had not supposed that this business were so vital."
"Yes, sir, it is vital to the existence of the Iroquois as a federatedpeople who shall remain harmless after we have subdued them, thatAmochol and his acolytes die in the very ashes they have so horriblyprofaned. Amherst hung two of them. The nation lay stunned until heleft this country. Had he remained and executed a dozen more Sachemswith the rope, the world, I think, had never heard of Amochol."
The General looked hard at me:
"Can you reach Amochol, Mr. Loskiel?"
"That is what I would say to you, sir. I think I can reach him atCatharines-town with my Indians and a detachment from my own regiment,and crush him before he is alarmed by the advance of this army. I havespoken with my Indians, and they believe this can be accomplished,because we have learned that on the last day of this month the secretand debased rites of the Onon-hou-aroria will be practiced atCatharines-town; and every Sorcerer will be there."
"Do you propose to go out in advance on this business?"
"It must be done that way, sir, if we can hope to destroy thisSorcerer. The Seneca scouts most certainly watch this encampment fromevery hilltop. And the day this army stirs on its march toCatharines-town and Kendaia, the news will run into the North likelightning. You, sir, can hope to encounter no armed resistance as youmarch northward burning town after town, save only if Butler makes astand or attempts an ambuscade in force.
"Otherwise, no Seneca will await your coming--I mean there will be noconsiderable force of Senecas to oppose you in their towns, only theusual scalping parties hanging just outside the smoke veil. All willretire before you. And how is Amochol to be destroyed atCatharines-town unless he be struck at secretly before your advance isnear enough to frighten him?"
"What people would you take with you?"
"My Indians, Lieutenant Boyd, and thirty riflemen."
"Is that not too few?"
"In all swift and secret marches, sir, a few do better service thanmany--as you have taught your own people many a time."
"That is quite true. But they never seem to learn the lesson. I amsomewhat astonished that you have seemed to learn it, and lay itpractically to heart." He smiled, drummed on the table with a Faberpencil, then, knitting his brows, drew to him a sheet of paper andwrote on it slowly, pausing from time to time in troubled reflection.Once he glanced up at me coldly, and:
"Who is to lead this expedition?" he asked bluntly.
"Why, Lieutenant Boyd, sir," said I, wondering.
"Oh! You have no ambitions then?"
"Mr. Boyd ranks me," I said, smiling. "Who else should lead?"
"I see. Well, sir, you understand that a new commission lies all neatlyfolded for you in Catharines-town. Even such a modest man as you, Mr.Loskiel, co
uld scarce doubt that," he added laughingly.
"No, sir, I do not doubt it."
"That is well, then. Orders will be sent you in due time--not untilGeneral Clinton's army arrives, however."
He looked at me pleasantly: "I have robbed you of the sleep most justlydue you. But I think perhaps you may not regret this conference.Good-night, sir."
I saluted and went out. An orderly with a torch lighted me to myquarters. Inside the bush-hut assigned to the Mohican and myself, thered torch-light flickered over the recumbent Sagamore, swathed in hisblanket, motionless. But even as I looked one of his eyes opened alittle way, glimmering like a jewel in the ruddy darkness, then closedagain.
So I stretched myself out in my blanket beside the Sagamore, and,thinking of Lois, fell presently into a sweet and dreamless sleep.
At six o'clock the morning gun awoke me with its startling and annoyingthunder. The Sagamore sat up in his blanket, wearing thathalf-irritated, half-shamed expression always to be seen on an Indian'scountenance when cannon are fired. An Indian has no stomach forartillery, and hates sight and sound of the metal monsters.
For a few moments I bantered him sleepily, then dropped back into myblanket. What cared I for their insolent morning gun! I snapped myfingers at it.
And so I lolled on my back, half asleep, yet not wholly, and soon tiredof this, and, wrapping me in my blanket and drawing on ankle moccasins,went down to the Chemung where its crystal current clattered over thestones, and found me a clear, deep pool to flounder in.
Before I plunged, noticing several fine trout lying there, I played ascurvy trick on them, tickling three big ones; and had a fourth out ofwater, but was careless, and he slipped back.
Some Continental soldiers who had been watching me, mouths agape, wentto another pool to try their skill; but while I would not boast, it isnot everybody who can tickle a speckled trout; and after my bath thesoldiers were still at it, and damning their eyes, their luck, and thepretty fish which so saucily flouted them.
So I flung 'em a big trout and went back to camp whistling, and therefound that my Indians had fed and were now gravely renewing their paint.
Tahoontowhee dressed and cooked my fish for me, each in a bass-woodleaf, and when they were done and smelling most fragrant, we all made adelicious feast, with corn bread from the ovens and salt pork and agreat jug of milk from the army's herd.
At eight o'clock another gun was fired. This was the daily signal, Ilearned, to stack tents and load pack-horses. And another gun fired atten o'clock meant "March." With all these guns, and a fourth atsundown, I saw an unhappy time ahead for my Indians. Truly, I think thesound makes them sick. They all pulled wry faces now, and I had my jestat their expense, ours being a most happy little family, so amiably didthe Mohican and Oneidas foregather; and also, there being among them aSagamore and a Chief of the noble Oneida clan, I could meet them on anequality of footing which infringed nothing on military etiquette.There were doubtless many interpreters in camp, but few, if any, Isuppose, who had had the advantage of such training as I under GuyJohnson, who himself, after Sir William's death, was appointed IndianSuperintendent under the Crown for all North America, Guy Johnson knewthe Iroquois. And if he lacked the character, personal charm, andknowledge that Sir William possessed, yet in the politics and diplomacyof Indian affairs his knowledge and practice were vast, and hisservices most valuable to his King.
Under him I had been schooled, and also under the veteran deputies,Colonel Croghan, Colonel Butler, and Colonel Claus; and had learnedmuch from old Cadwallader Colden, too, who came often to Guy Park, asdid our good General Philip Schuyler in these peaceful days.
So I knew how to treat any Indian I had ever seen, save only theoutlandish creatures of the Senecas. Else, perhaps, I had soonerpenetrated the villainy of the Erie. Yet, even my own Indians had notbeen altogether certain of the traitor's identity until almost at thevery end.
At ten another gun was fired, but only a small detachment of infantrymarched, the other regiments unpacking and pitching tents again, andthe usual routine of camp life, with its multitudinous duties anddetails, was resumed.
I reported at headquarters, to which my guides were now attached, andthere were orders for me to hold myself and Indians in readiness for anight march to Chemung.
All that day I spent in acquainting myself with the camp which had beenpitched, as I say, on the neck of land bounded by the Susquehanna andthe Chemung, with a small creek, called Cayuga by some, Seneca Creek byothers, intersecting it and flowing south into the Susquehanna. It wasbut a trout brook.
This site of the old Indian town of Tioga seemed to me very lovely. Thewaters were silvery and sweet, the flats composed of rich, dark soil,the forests beautiful with a great variety of noble and gigantictrees--white pines on the hills; on the level country enormousblack-walnuts, oaks, button-woods, and nut trees of many species,growing wide apart, yet so roofing the forest with foliage that verylittle sunlight penetrated, and only the flats were open and brightwith waving Indian grass, now so ripe that our sheep, cattle, andhorses found in it a nourishment scarcely sufficient for beasts soexercised and driven.
That day, as I say, I walked about the camp and adjacent river-country,seeking out my friends in the various regiments to gossip with them.And was invited to a Rum Punch given by all the officers at theArtillery Lines to celebrate the victory of General Wayne at StonyPoint.
Colonel Proctor's artillery band discoursed most noble music for us;and there was much hilarity and cheering, and many very boisterous.
These social parties in our army, where rum-punch was the favouritebeverage, were gay and lively; but there was a headache in every cup ofit, they say. I, being an interpreter, held aloof because I must everset an example to my red comrades. And this day had all I could do toconfine them to proper rations. For all spirit is a very poison to anyIndian. And of all the crimes of which men of my colour standattainted, the offering of this death-cup to our red brothers is, Ithink, the wickedest and the most contemptible.
For when we white men become merely exhilarated in the performance ofsuch social usages as politeness requires of us, the Indian becomesmurderous. And I remember at this Artillery Punch many officers danceda Shawanese dance, and General Hand, of the Light Troops, did lead thiswar-dance, which caused me discomfiture, I not at all pleased to seeofficers who ranked me cut school-boy capers 'round a midday fire.
And it was like very school-lads that many of us behaved, making ofthis serious and hazardous expedition a silly pleasure jaunt. I havesince thought that perhaps the sombre and majestic menace of a sunlessand unknown forest reacted a little on us all, and that many found anervous relief in brief relaxations and harmless folly, and in anticsperformed on its grim and dusky edges.
For no one, I think, doubted there was trouble waiting for us withinthese silent shades. And the tension had never lessened for this army,what with waiting for the Right Wing, which had not yet apparentlystirred from Otsego; and the inadequacy of provisions, not known to themen but whispered among the officers; and the shots already exchangedthis very morning along the river between our outposts and prowlingscouts of the enemy; and the daily loss of pack-animals and cattle,strayed or stolen; and of men, too, scalped since they left Wyoming,sometimes within gunshot of headquarters.
But work on the four block-forts, just begun, progressed rapidly; and,alas, the corps of invalids destined to garrison them had, since thearmy left Easton, increased too fast to please anybody, what withwounds, accidents in camp from careless handling of firearms, kicksfrom animals, and the various diseases certain to appear where manypeople congregate.
There were a number of regiments under tents or awaiting the unfinishedlog barracks at Tioga Point; in the First Brigade there were four fromNew Jersey; in the Second Brigade three from New Hampshire; in theThird two from Pennsylvania, and an artillery regiment; and what withother corps and the train, boatmen, guides, workmen, servants, etc., itmade a great and curious spectacle even before our Ri
ght Wing joined.
Every regiment carried its colours and its music, fifes, drums, andbugle-horns; and sometimes these played on the march when a lightdetachment went forward for a day's scout, or to forage or to destroy.But best of all music I ever heard, I loved now to hear the band ofColonel Proctor's artillery regiment, filling me as it did with solemn,yet pleasurable, emotions, and seemingly teaching me how dear had Loisbecome to me.
The scout, sent out the day before, returned in the afternoon with anaccount that Chemung was held by the enemy, which caused a bustle incamp, particularly among the light troop.
Headquarters was very busy all day long, and sometimes even gay, forthe gentlemen of General Sullivan's family were not only sufficient,but amiable and delightful. And there I had the honour of being madeknown to his aides-de-camp, Mr. Pierce, Mr. Van Cortlandt, and MajorHoops. I already knew Captain Dayton. Also, of the staff I met thereCaptain Topham, our Commissary of Militia Stores, Captain Lodge, oursurveyor, Colonels Antis and Bond, Conductors of Boats, Dr. Hogan,Chief Surgeon, Lieutenant R. Pemberton, Judge Advocate, LieutenantColonel Frasier, Colonel Hooper, Lieutenant Colonel Barber, AdjutantGeneral, the Reverend S. Kirkland, Chaplain, and others most agreeablebut too numerous to mention. Still, I have writ them all down in mydiary, as I try always to do, so that if God gives me wife and childrensome day they may find, perhaps, an hour of leisure, when to peruse ablotted page of what husband and father saw in the great war might notprove too tedious or disagreeable.
In this manner, then, the afternoon of that August day passed, and whatwith these occupations, and the catching of several trouts, which Ilove to do with hook and line and alder pole, and what with sending toLois a letter by an express who went to Clinton toward evening, thetime did not seem irksome.
Yet, it had passed more happily had I heard from Lois. But no runnerscame; and if any were sent out from Otsego and taken by the enemy Iknow not, only that none came through that day, Thursday, August the12th.
One thing in camp had disagreeably surprised me, that there were womenand children here, and like to remain in the block forts after the armyhad departed from its base for the long march through the Senecacountry.
This I could not understand or reconcile with any proper measure ofsafety, as the cannon in the block-houses were not to be many or of anygreat calibre, and only the corps of invalids were to remain to defendthem.
I had told Lois that no women would be permitted at Tioga Point. Thatthese were the orders that had been generally understood at Otsego.
And now, lo and behold, here were women arrived from Easton, Bethlehem,Wyalusing, and Wyoming, including the wives and children of severalnon-commissioned officers and soldiers from the district; widows ofmurdered settlers, washerwomen, and several tailoresses--in all a veryconsiderable number.
And I hoped to heaven that Lois might not hear of this mischievousbusiness and discover in it an excuse for coming as the guest of anylady at Otsego, or, in fact, make any further attempt to stir until theRight Wing marched and the batteaux took the ladies of CaptainBleecker, Ensign Lansing, and Lana, and herself to Albany.
After sundown an officer came to me and said that the entire army wasordered to march at eight that evening, excepting troops sufficient toguard our camp; that there would be no alarm sounded, and that we wereto observe secrecy and silence.
Also, it appeared that a gill of rum per man had been authorized, but Irefused for myself and my Indians, thinking to myself that the Generalmight have made it less difficult for me if he had confined hisindulgence to the troops.
About eight o'clock a Stockbridge Indian--the one who had been with thescout to Chemung--came to me with a note from Dominie Kirkland.
I gave him my hand, and he told me that his name was Yellow Moth, andthat he was a Christian. Also, he inquired about the Mole, and I wasobliged to relate the circumstances of that poor convert's murder.
"God's will," said the Yellow Moth very quietly. "You, my brother, andI may see a thousand fall, and ten thousand on our right hand, and itshall not come nigh us."
"Amen," said I, much moved by this simple fellow's tranquil faith.
I made him known to the Sagamore and to the two Oneidas, who receivedhim with a grave sincerity which expressed very plainly their respectfor a people of which the Mole had been for them a respectable example.
Like the Mole, the Yellow Moth wore no paint except a white crosslimned on his breast over a clan sign indecipherable. And if, in truth,there had ever really been a totem under the white paint I do not know,for like the Algonquins, these peoples had but a loose political,social, religious, and tribal organization, which never approached theperfection of the Iroquois system in any manner or detail.
About eight o'clock came Captain Carbury, of the 11th Pennsylvania, tous, and we immediately set out, marching swiftly up the Chemung River,the Sagamore and the Yellow Moth leading, then Captain Carbury andmyself, then the Oneidas.
Behind us in the dusk we saw the Light Troops falling in, who alwayslead the army. All marched without packs, blankets, horses, or anyimpedimenta. And, though the distance was not very great, so hilly,rocky, and rough was the path through the hot, dark night, and sonarrow and difficult were the mountain passes, that we were oftenobliged to rest the men. Also there were many swamps to pass, and asthe men carried the cohorn by hand, our progress was slow. Besidesthese difficulties and trials, a fog came up, thickening toward dawn,which added to the hazards of our march.
So the dawn came and found us still marching through the mist, and itwas not until six o'clock that we of the guides heard a Seneca dogbarking far ahead, and so knew that Chemung was near.
Back sped Tahoontowhee to hasten the troops; I ran forward with CaptainCarbury and the Sagamore, passing several outlying huts, then somebarns and houses which loomed huge as medieval castles in the fog, butwere really very small.
"Look out!" cried Carbury. "There is their town right ahead!"
It lay straight ahead of us, a fine town of over a hundred houses builton both sides of the pretty river. The casements of some of thesehouses were glazed and the roofs shingled; smoke drifted lazily fromthe chimneys; and all around were great open fields of grain, maize,and hay, orchards and gardens, in which were ripening peas, beans,squashes, pumpkins, watermelons, muskmelons.
"Good God!" said I. "This is a fine place, Carbury!"
"It's like a dozen others we have laid in ashes," said he, "and likescores more that we shall treat in a like manner. Look sharp! Here someour light troops."
The light infantry of Hand arrived on a smart run--a torrent ofred-faced, sweating, excited fellows, pouring headlong into the town,cheering as they ran.
General Hand, catching sight of me, signalled with his sword andshouted to know what had become of the enemy.
"They're gone off!" I shouted back. "My Indians are on their heels andwe'll soon have news of their whereabouts."
Then the soldiery began smashing in doors and windows right and left,laughing and swearing, and dragging out of the houses everything theycontained.
So precipitate had been the enemy's flight that they had lefteverything--food still cooking, all their household and personalutensils; and I saw in the road great piles of kettles, plates, knives,deerskins, beaver-pelts, bearhides, packs of furs, and bolts of stripedlinen, to which heaps our soldiers were adding every minute.
Others came to fire the town; and it was sad to see these humble homespuff up in a cloud of smoke and sparks, then burst into vivid flame. Inthe orchards our men were plying their axes or girdling theheavily-fruited trees; field after field of grain was fired, and theflames swept like tides across them.
The corn was in the milk, and what our men could not burn, using thehouses for kilns, they trampled and cut with their hangers--wholeregiments marching through these fields, destroying the most noble cornI ever saw, for it was so high that it topped the head of a man onhorseback.
So high, also, stood the hay, and it was sad to see it burn.
/> And now, all around in this forest paradise, our army was gathered,destroying, raging, devastating the fairest land that I had seen inmany a day. All the country was aflame; smoke rolled up, fouling theblue sky, burying woodlands, blotting out the fields and streams.
From the knoll to which I had moved to watch the progress of my scouts,I could see an entire New Jersey regiment chasing horses and cattle;another regiment piling up canoes, fish-weirs, and the hewn logs ofbridges, to make a mighty fire; still other regiments trampling out thelast vestige of green stuff in the pretty gardens.
Not a shot had yet been fired; there was no sound save the excited andterrifying roar of a vast armed mob obliterating in its fury the verywell-springs that enabled its enemies to exist.
Cattle, sheep, horses were being driven off down the trail by which wehad come; men everywhere were stuffing their empty sacks with greenvegetables and household plunder; the town fairly whistled with flame,and the smoke rose in a great cloud-shape very high, and hung above us,tenting us from the sun.
In the midst of this uproar the Grey-Feather came speeding to me withnews that the enemy was a little way upstream and seemed inclined tomake a stand. I immediately informed the General; and soon thebugle-horns of the light infantry sounded, and away we raced ahead ofthem.
I remember seeing an entire company marching with muskmelons pinned ontheir bayonets, all laughing and excited; and I heard General Sullivanbawl at them:
"You damned unmilitary rascals, do you mean to open fire on 'em withvegetables?"
Everybody was laughing, and the General grinned as Hand's bugle-hornsplayed us in.
But it was another matter when the Seneca rifles cracked, and asergeant and a drummer lad of the 11th Pennsylvania fell. Thesmooth-bores cracked again, and four more soldiers tumbled forwardsprawling, the melons on their bayonets rolling off into the bushes.
Carbury, marching forward beside me, dropped across my path; and as Istooped over him gave me a ghastly look.
"Don't let them scalp me," he said--but his own men came running andpicked him up, and I ran forward with the others toward a wooded hillwhere puffs of smoke spotted the bushes.
Then the long, rippling volleys of Hand's men crashed out, one afteranother, and after a little of this their bugle-horns sounded thecharge.
But the Senecas did not wait; and it was like chasing weasels in astone wall, for even my Indians could not come up with them.
However, about two o'clock, returning to that part of the town acrossthe river, which Colonel Dearborn's men were now setting afire, wereceived a smart volley from some ambushed Senecas, and Adjutant Hustonand a guide fell.
It was here that the Sagamore made his kill--just beyond the firsthouse, in some alders; and he came back with a Seneca scalp at hisgirdle, as did the Grey-Feather also.
"Hiokatoo's warriors," remarked the Oneida briefly, wringing out hisscalp and tying it to his belt.
I looked up at the hills in sickened silence. Doubtless Butler's menwere watching us in our work of destruction, not daring to interfereuntil the regulars arrived from Fort Niagara. But when they did arrive,it meant a battle. We all knew that. And knew, too, that a battle lostin the heart of that dark wilderness meant the destruction of everyliving soul among us.
About two o'clock, having eaten nothing except what green and uncookedstuff we had picked up in field and garden, our marching signal soundedand we moved off; driving our captured stock, every soldier laden withgreen food and other plunder, and taking with us our dead and wounded.
Chemung had been, but was no longer. And if, like Thendara, it was everagain to be I do not know, only that such a horrid and pitifuldesolation I had never witnessed in all my life before. For it was notthe enemy, but the innocent earth we had mutilated, stamping an armedheel into its smiling and upturned face. And what we had done sickenedme.
Yet, this was scarcely the beginning of that terrible punishment whichwas to pass through the Long House in flame and smoke, from the EasternDoor to the Door of the West, scouring it fiercely from one end to theother, and leaving no living thing within--only a few dead men proneamong its blood-soaked ashes.
*Etho ni-ya-wenonh!
[*Thus it befell!]
By six that evening the army was back in its camp at Tioga Point. Allthe fever and excitement of the swift foray had passed, and theinevitable reaction had set in. The men were haggard, weary, sombre,and harassed. There was no elation after success either among officersor privates; only a sullen grimness, the sullenness of repletion afteran orgy--the grimness of disgust for an unwelcome duty only yet begun.
Because this sturdy soldiery was largely composed of tillers of thesoil, of pioneer farmers who understood good land, good husbandry, goodcrops, and the stern privations necessary to wrest a single rod of landfrom the iron jaws of the wilderness.
To stamp upon, burn, girdle, destroy, annihilate, give back to theforest what human courage and self-denial had wrested from it, was tothem in their souls abhorrent.
Save for the excitement of the chase, the peril ever present, thecertainty that failure meant death in its most dreadful forms, it mighthave been impossible for these men to destroy the fruits of the earth,even though produced by their mortal enemies, and designed, ultimately,to nourish them.
Even my Indians sat silent and morose, stretching, braiding, andhooping their Seneca scalps. And I heard them conversing amongthemselves, mentioning frequently the Three Sisters* they haddestroyed; and they spoke ever with a hint of tenderness and regret intheir tones which left me silent and unhappy.
[*Corn, squash, and bean were so spoken of affectionately, as theyalways were planted together by the Iroquois.]
To slay in the heat and fury of combat is one matter; to scar andcripple the tender features of humanity's common mother is a differentaffair. And I make no doubt that every blow that bit into the ladenfruit trees of Chemung stabbed more deeply the men who so mercilesslyswung the axes.
Well might the great Cayuga chieftain repeat the terrible prophecy ofToga-na-etah the Beautiful:
"When the White Throats shall come, then, if ye be divided, ye willpull down the Long House, fell the tall Tree of Peace, and quench theOnondaga Fire forever."
As I stood by the rushing current of the Thiohero,* on the profaned anddesolate threshold of the Dark Empire, I thought of O-cau-nee, theEnchantress, and of Na-wenu the Blessed, and of Hiawatha floating inhis white canoe into the far haven where the Master of Life stoodwaiting.
[*Seneca River.]
And now, for these doomed people of the Kannonsi, but one rite remainedto be accomplished. And the solemn thunder of the last drum-roll mustsummon them to the great Festival of the Dead.