CHAPTER XXI
CHINISEE CASTLE
For twelve days our army, marching west by north, tore its terrible waystraight through the smoking vitals of the Iroquois Empire, leavingbehind it nearly forty towns and villages and more than two hundredcabins on fire; thousands and thousands of bushels of grain burning,thousands of apple, peach, pear, and plum trees destroyed, thousands ofacres of pumpkins, beans, peas, corn, potatoes, beets, turnips,carrots, watermelons, muskmelons, strawberry, black-berry, raspberryshrubs crushed and rotting in the trampled gardens under the hotSeptember sun.
In the Susquehanna and Chinisee Valleys, not a roof survived unburnt,not a fruit tree or an ear of corn remained standing, not a domesticanimal, not a fowl, was left. And, save for the aged squaw we left atChiquaha in a new hut of bark, with provisions sufficient for herneeds, not one living soul now inhabited the charred ruins of the LongHouse behind us, except our fierce soldiery. And they, trampingdoggedly forward, voluntarily and cheerfully placing themselves on halfrations, were now terribly resolved to make an end for all time of thesecret and fruitful Empire which had nourished so long the mercilessmarauders, red and white, who had made of our frontiers but one vastslaughter-house and bloody desolation.
Town after town fell in ashes as our torches flared; Kendaia,Kanadesaga, Gothsunquin, Skoi-yase, Kanandaigua, Haniai, Kanasa; acreafter acre was annihilated. So vast was one field of corn that it tooktwo thousand men more than six hours to destroy it. And the end was notyet, nor our stern business with our enemies ended.
As always on the march, the division of light troops led; the advancewas piloted by my guides, reinforced by Boyd with four riflemen ofMorgan's--Tim Murphy, David Elerson, and Garrett Putnam, privates, andMichael Parker, sergeant.
Close behind us, and pretty well ahead of the rifle battalion, underMajor Parr, and the pioneers, followed Mr. Lodge, the surveyor, and hisparty--Thomas Grant with the Jacob-staff, four chain-carriers, andCorporal Calhawn. Usually we remained in touch with them while they rantheir lines through the wilderness, but sometimes we were stealingforward, far ahead and in touch with the retreating Tory army,patiently and persistently contriving plans to get at Amochol. But thepainted hordes of Senecas enveloped the Sorcerer and his acolytes aswith a living blanket; and, prowling outside their picket fires atnight, not one ridged-crest did we see during those twelve days ofswift pursuit.
Boyd, during the last few days, had become very silent and morose; andhis men and my Indians believed that he was brooding over his failureto take the Red Priest at Catharines-town. But my own heavy heart toldme a different story; and the burden of depression which this youngofficer bore so silently seemed to weight me also with vague andsinister apprehensions.
I remember, just before sunset, that our small scout of ten were haltedby a burnt log bridge over a sluggish inlet to a lake. The miry trailto the Chinisee Castle led over it, swung westward along the lake,rising to a steep bluff which was gashed with a number of deep androcky ravines.
It was plain that the retreating Tory army had passed over this bridge,and that their rearguard had set it afire.
I said to Boyd, pointing across the southern end of the lake:
"From what I have read of Braddock's Field, yonder terrain mostastonishingly resembles it. What an ambuscade could Butler lay for ourarmy yonder, within shot of this crossing!"
"Pray God he lays it," said Boyd between his teeth.
"Yet, we could get at him better beyond those rocky gashes," Imuttered, using my spyglass.
"Butler is there," said the Mohican, calmly.
Both Boyd and I searched the wooded bluffs in vain for any sign oflife, but the Sagamore and the other Indians quietly maintained theiropinion, because, they explained, though patches of wild rice grewalong the shore, the wild ducks and geese had left their feeding covesand were lying half a mile out in open water. Also, the blue-jays hadset up a screaming in the yellowing woods along the western shore, andthe tall, blue herons had left their shoreward sentry posts, and nowmounted guard far to the northward among the reeds, where solitaryblack ducks dropped in at intervals, quacking loudly.
Boyd nodded; the Oneidas drew their hatchets and blazed the trees; andwe all sat down in the woods to await the coming of our advanced guard.
After a little while, our pioneers appeared, rifles slung, axesglittering on their shoulders, and immediately began to fell trees andrebuild the log bridge. Hard on their heels came my rifle battalion;and in the red sunshine we watched the setting of the string ofoutposts.
Far back along the trail behind us we could hear the halted army makingcamp; flurries of cheery music from the light infantry bugle-horns, thedistant rolling of drums, the rangers penetrating whistle, lashes ofwagoners cracking, the melancholy bellow of the beef herd.
Major Parr came and talked with us for a few minutes, and went awayconvinced that Butler's people lay watching us across the creek. EnsignChambers came a-mincing through the woods, a-whisking the snuff fromhis nose with the only laced hanker in the army; and:
"Dear me!" says he. "Do you really think we shall have a battle,Loskiel? How very interesting and enjoyable it will be."
"Who drilled your pretty hide, Benjamin?" said I bluntly, noting thathe wore his left arm in a splint.
"Lord!" says he. "'Twas a scratch from a half-ounce ball at theChemung. Dear, dear, how very disappointing was that affair, Loskiel!Most annoying of them not to stand our charge!" And, "Dear, dear,dear," he murmured, mincing off again with all the air of a Wall Streetbeau ogling the pretty dames on Hanover Square.
"Where is this damned Castle?" growled Boyd. "Chinisee, Chenussio,Genesee--whatever it is called? The name keeps buzzing in my head--nay,for the last three days I have dreamed of it and awakened to hear itsounding in my ears, as though beside me some one stooped and whisperedit."
I pulled out our small map, which we had long since learned todistrust, yet even our General had no better one.
Here was marked the Chinisee Castle, near the confluence of CanaseragaCreek and the Chinisee River; and I showed the place to Boyd, wholooked at it curiously.
Mayaro, however, shook his crested head:
"No, Loskiel," he said. "The Chinisee Castle stands now on the westernshore. The Great Town should stand here!"--placing his finger on anempty spot on the map. "And here, two miles above, is another town."
"And you had better tell that to the General when he comes," remarkedBoyd. And to me he said: "If we are to take Amochol at all, it will bethis night or at dawn at the Chinisee Castle."
"I am also of that opinion," said I.
"I shall want twenty riflemen," he said.
"If it can not be done with four, and my Indians, we need not attemptit."
"Why?" he asked sullenly.
"The General has so ordered."
"Yes, but if I am to catch Amochol I must do it in my own way. I knowhow to do it. And if I risk taking my twenty riflemen, and amsuccessful, the General will not care how it was accomplished."
I said nothing, because Boyd ranked me, but what he proposed made mevery uneasy. More than once he had interpreted orders after his ownfashion, and, being always successful in his enterprises, nothing wassaid to him in reproof.
My Indians had made a fire, I desiring to let the enemy suppose that wesuspected nothing of his ambuscade so close at hand; and around this welay, munching our meagre meal of green corn roasted on the coals, andripe apples to finish.
As we ended, the sun set behind the western bluffs, and our evening gunboomed good-night in the forest south of us. And presently came,picking their way through the trail-mire, our General, handsomelyhorsed as usual, attended by Major Adam Hoops, of his staff, andseveral others.
We instantly waited on him and told him what we knew and suspected; andI showed him my map and warned him of the discrepancy between itsmarked places and the report of the Mohican Sagamore.
"Damnation!" he said. "Every map I have had lies in detail, misleadingand delaying me when every hou
r empties our wagons of provisions. Wereit not for your Indians, Mr. Loskiel, and that Sagamore in particular,we had missed half the game as it lies."
He sat his saddle in silence for a while, looking at the unfinished logbridge and up at the bluffs opposite.
"I feel confident that Butler is there," he said bluntly. "But what Iwish to know is where this accursed Chinisee Castle stands. Boyd, takefour men, move rapidly just before midnight, find out where this castlestands, and report to me at sunrise."
Boyd saluted, hesitated, then asked permission to speak. And when theGeneral accorded it, he explained his plan to take Amochol at theChinisee Castle, and that this matter would neither delay nor interferewith a prompt execution of his present orders.
"Very well," nodded the General, "but take no more than four men, andMr. Loskiel and his Indians with you; and report to me at sunrise."
I heard him say this; Major Hoops heard him also. So I supposed thatBoyd would obey these orders to the letter.
When the mounted party had moved away, Boyd and I went back to the fireand lay down on our blankets. We were on the edge of the trees; it wasstill daylight; the pioneers were still at work; and my Indians werefreshening their paint, rebraiding their scalp-locks, and shining uphatchet, rifle, and knife.
"Look at those bloodhounds," muttered Boyd. "They did not hear what wewere talking about, but they know by premonition."
"I do not have any faith in premonitions," said I.
"Why?"
"I have dreamed I was scalped, and my hair still grows."
"You are not out of the woods yet," he said, sombrely.
"That does not worry me."
"Nor me. Yet, I do believe in premonition."
"That is old wives' babble."
"Maybe, Loskiel. Yet, I know I shall not leave this wilderness alive."
"Lord!" said I, attempting to jest. "You should set up as a rival toAmochol and tell us all our fortunes."
He smiled--and the effort distorted his pale, handsome face.
"I think it will happen at Chinisee," he said quietly.
"What will happen?"
"The end of the world for me, Loskiel."
"It is not like you, Boyd, to speak in such a manner. Only lately haveI ever heard from you a single note of such foreboding."
"Only lately have I been dowered with the ominous clairvoyance. I amchanged, Loskiel."
"Not in courage."
"No," he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders that set ruffles andthrums a-dancing on his rifle-dress.
We were silent for a while, watching the Indians at their polishing.Then he said in a low but pleasant voice:
"How proud and happy must you be with your affianced. What a splendourof happiness lies before you both! An unblemished past, an innocentpassion, a future stretching out unstained before you--what more canGod bestow on man and maid?... May bright angels guard you both,Loskiel."
I made to thank him for the wish, but suddenly found I could notcontrol my voice, so lay there in silence and with throat contracted,looking at this man whose marred young life lay all behind him, andwhose future, even to me, lowered strangely and ominously veiled.
And as we lay there, into our fire-circle came a dusty, mud-splashed,and naked runner, plucking from his light skin-pouch two letters, onefor Boyd and one for me.
I read mine by the flickering fire; it was dated from Tioga Point:
"Euan Loskiel, my honoured and affianced husband, and my lover,worshipped and adored, I send you by this runner my dearest affections,my duties, and my most sacred sentiments.
"You must know that this day we have arrived at the Fort at Tioga Pointwithout any accident or mischance of any description, and, indeed, notencountering one living creature between Catharines-town and this post.
"My beloved mother desires her particular and tender remembrances to beconveyed to you, her honoured son-in-law to be, and further commandsthat I express to you, as befittingly as I know how, her deep andever-living gratitude and thanks for your past conduct in regard to me,and your present and noble-minded generosity concerning thedispositions you have made for us to remain under the amiableprotection of Mr. Hake in Albany.
"Dear lad, what can I say for myself? You are so glorious, sowonderful--and in you it does seem that all the virtues, graces, andaccomplishments are so perfectly embodied, that at moments, thinking ofyou, I become afraid, wondering what it is in me that you can accept inexchange for the so perfect love you give me.
"I fear that you may smile on perusing this epistle, deeming it,perhaps, a trifle flowery in expression--but, Euan, I am so tornbetween the wild passion I entertain for you, and a desire to addressyou modestly and politely in terms of correspondence, as taught in thebest schools, that I know not entirely how to conduct. I would not haveyou think me cold, or too stiffly laced in the formalities of politeusage, so that you might not divine my heart a-beating under the dressthat covers me, be it rifle-frock or silken caushet. I would not haveyou consider me over-bold, light-minded, or insensible to the deep andsacred tie that already binds me to you evermore--which even, I think,the other and tender tie which priest and church shall one day impose,could not make more perfect or more secure.
"So I must strive to please you by writing with elegance befitting, yetpermitting you to perceive the ardent heart of her who thinks of youthrough every blessed moment of the day.
"I pray, as my dear mother prays, that God, all armoured, and with Hisbright sword drawn, stand sentinel on your right hand throughout thedangers and the trials of this most just and bloody war. For yourreturn I pray and wait.
"Your humble and dutiful and obedient and adoring wife to be,
"Lois de Contrecoeur.
"Post scriptum: The memory of our kiss fades not from my lips. I willbe content when circumstances permit us the liberty to repeat it."
When I had read the letter again and again, I folded it and laid it inthe bosom of my rifle-shirt. Boyd still brooded over his letter, thered firelight bathing his face to the temples.
After a long while he raised his eyes, saw me looking at him, stared atme for a moment, then quietly extended the letter toward me.
"You wish me to read it?" I asked.
"Yes, read it, Loskiel, before I burn it," he said drearily. "I do notdesire to have it discovered on my body after death."
I took the single sheet of paper and read:
"Lieutenant Thomas Boyd, "Rifle Corps, "Sir:
"For the last time, I venture to importune you in behalf of one for whose present despair you are entirely responsible. Pitying her unhappy condition, I have taken her as companion to me since we are arrived at Easton, and shall do what lies within my power to make her young life as endurable as may be.
"You, sir, on your return from the present campaign, have it in your power to make the only reparation possible. I trust that your heart and your sense of honour will so incline you.
"As for me, Mr. Boyd, I make no complaint, desire no sympathy, expect none. What I did was my fault alone. Knowing that I was falling in love with you, and at the same time aware what kind of man you had been and must still be, I permitted myself to drift into deeper waters, too weak of will to make an end, too miserable to put myself beyond the persuasion of your voice and manner. And perhaps I might never have found courage to give you up entirely had I not been startled into comprehension by what I learned concerning the poor child in whose behalf I now am writing.
"That instantly sobered me, ending any slightest spark of hope that I might have in my secret heart still guarded. For, with my new and terrible knowledge, I understood that I must pass instantly and completely out of your life; and you out of mine. Only your duty remained--not to me, but to this other and more unhappy one. And that path I pray that you will follow when a convenient opportunity arises.
"I am, sir y' ob't, etc., etc.
"Mag
dalene Helmer.
"P. S. If you love me, Tom, do your full duty in the name of God!
"Lana."
I handed the letter back to him in silence. He stared at it, not seeingthe written lines, I think, save as a blurr; and after a long while heleaned forward and laid it on the coals.
"If I am not already foredoomed," he said to me, "what Lana bids me dothat I shall do. It is best, is it not, Loskiel?"
"A clergyman is fitter to reply to you than I."
"Do you not think it best that I marry Dolly Glenn?"
"God knows. It is all too melancholy and too terrible for me tocomprehend the right and wrong of it, or how a penitence is best made.Yet, as you ask me, it seems to me that what she will one day becomeshould claim your duty and your future. The weakest ever has thestrongest claim."
"Yes, it-is true. I stand tonight so fettered to an unborn soul thatnothing can unloose me.... I wish that I might live."
"You will live! You must live!"
"Aye, 'must' and 'will' are twins of different complexions, Loskiel....Yet, if I live, I shall live decently and honestly hereafter in thesight of God and--Lana Helmer."
We said nothing more. About ten o'clock Boyd rose and went away allalone. Half an hour later he came back, followed by some score and moreof men, a dozen of our own battalion, half a dozen musket-men of the4th Pennsylvania Regiment, three others, two Indians, Hanierri, theheadquarters Oneida guide, and Yoiakim, a Stockbridge.
"Volunteers," he said, looking sideways at me. "I know how to takeAmochol; but I must take him in my own manner."
I ventured to remind him of the General's instructions that we find theChinisee Castle and report at sunrise.
"Damn it, I know it," he retorted impatiently, "but I have my ownplans; and the General will bear me out when I fling Amochol's scalp athis feet."
The Grey-Feather drew me aside and said in a low, earnest voice:
"We are too many to surprise Amochol. Before Wyoming, with only threeothers I went to Thenondiago, the Castle of the Three Clans--The Bear,The Wolf, and The Turtle--and there we took and slew Skull-Face,brother of Amochol, and wounded Telenemut, the husband of CatrineMontour. By Waiandaia we stretched the scalp of Skull-Face; atThaowethon we painted it with Huron and Seneca tear-drops; at Yaowaniawe peeled three trees and wrote on each the story so that the ThreeClans might read and howl their anguish. Thus should it be done tonightif we are to deal with Amochol!"
Once more I ventured to protest to Boyd.
"Leave it to me, Loskiel," he said pleasantly. And I could say no more.
At eleven our party of twenty-nine set out, Hanierri, the Oneida, fromheadquarters, guiding us; and I could not understand why Boyd hadchosen him, for I was certain he knew less about this region than didMayaro, However, when I spoke to Boyd, he replied that the General hadso ordered, and that Hanierri had full instructions concerning theroute from the commander himself.
As General Sullivan was often misinformed by his maps and his scouts, Iwas nothing reassured by Boyd's reply, and marched with my Indians,feeling in my heart afraid. And, without vaunting myself, nor meaningto claim any general immunity from fear, I can truly say that for thefirst time in my life I set forth upon an expedition with the mostmelancholy forebodings possible to a man of ordinary courage andself-respect.
We followed the hard-travelled war-trail in single file; and Hanierridid not lose his way, but instead of taking, as he should have done,the unused path which led to the Chinisee Castle, he passed it andcontinued on.
I protested most earnestly to Boyd; the Sagamore corroborated myopinion when summoned. But Hanierri remained obstinate, declaring thathe had positive information that the Chinisee Castle lay in thedirection we were taking.
Boyd seemed strangely indifferent and dull, making apparently no effortto sift the matter further. So strange and apathetic had his mannerbecome, so unlike himself was he, that I could make nothing of him, andstood in uneasy wonderment while the Mohican and the Oneida, Hanierri,were gravely disputing.
"Come," he said, in his husky and altered voice, "let us have done withthis difference in opinion. Let the Oneida guide us--as we cannot havetwo guides' opinions. March!"
In the darkness we crept past Butler's right flank, silently andundiscovered; nor could we discover any sign of the enemy, though nownot one among us doubted that he lay hidden along the bluffs, waitingfor our army to move at sunrise into the deadly trap that the nature ofthe place had so perfectly provided.
All night long we moved on the hard and trodden trail; and toward dawnwe reached a town. Reconnoitering the place, we found it utterlyabandoned. If the Chinisee Castle lay beyond it, we could notdetermine, but Hanierri insisted that it was there. So Boyd sent backfour men to Sullivan to report on what we had done; and we lay in thewoods on the outskirts of the village, to wait for daylight.
When dawn whitened the east, it became plain to us all that we hadtaken the wrong direction. The Chinisee Castle was not here. Nothinglay before us but a deserted village.
I knew not what to make of Boyd, for the discovery of our mistakeseemed to produce no impression on him. He stood at the edge of thewoods, gazing vacantly across the little clearing where the Indianhouses straggled on either side of the trail.
"We have made a bad mistake," I said in a low voice.
"Yes, a bad one," he said listlessly.
"Shall we not start on our return?" I asked.
"There is no hurry."
"I beg your pardon, but I have to remind you that you are to report atsunrise."
"Aye--if that were possible, Loskiel."
"Possible!" I repeated, blankly. "Why not?"
"Because," he said in a dull voice, "I shall never see another sunrisesave this one that is coming presently. Let me have my fill of itunvexed by Generals and orders."
"You are not well, Boyd," I said, troubled.
"As well as I shall ever be--but not as ill, Loskiel."
At that moment the Sagamore laid his hand on my shoulder and pointed. Isaw nothing for a moment; then Boyd and Murphy sprang forward, riflesin hand, and Mayaro after them, and I after them, running into thevillage at top speed. For I had caught a glimpse of a most unusualsight; four Iroquois Indians on horseback, riding into the northernedge of the town. Never before, save on two or three occasions, had Iever seen an Iroquois mounted on a horse.
We ran hard to get a shot at them, and beyond the second house came infull view of our enemies. Murphy fired immediately, knocking theleading Indian from his horse; I fired, breaking the arm of the nextrider; both my Indians fired and missed; and the Iroquois were off atfull speed. Boyd had not fired.
We ran to where the dead man was lying, and the Mohican recognized himas an Erie named Sanadaya. Murphy coolly took his scalp, with animpudent wink at the Sagamore and a grin at Boyd and me.
In the meanwhile, our riflemen and Indians had rushed the town and werebusy tearing open the doors of the houses and setting fire to them. Invain I urged Boyd to start back, pointing out that this was no placefor us to linger in, and that our army would burn this village in duetime.
But he merely shrugged his shoulders and loitered about, watching hismen at their destruction; and I stood by, a witness to his strange andinexplicable delay, a prey to the most poignant anxiety because theentire Tory army lay between us and our own army, and this smoke signalmust draw upon us a very swarm of savages to our inevitable destruction.
At last Boyd sounded the recall on his ranger's whistle, and ordered meto take my Indians and reconnoiter our back trail. And no sooner had Ientered the woods than I saw an Indian standing about a hundred yardsto the right of the trail, and looking up at the smoke which wasblowing southward through the tree-tops.
His scarlet cloak was thrown back; he was a magnificent warrior, in hisbrilliant paint, matching the flaming autumn leaves in colour. MyIndians had not noticed him where he stood against a crimson and yellowmaple bush. I laid my rifle level and fired. He s
taggered, stood amoment, turning his crested head with a bewildered air, then swayed,sank at the knee joints, dropped to them, and very slowly laid hisstately length upon the moss, extending himself like one who preparedfor slumber.
We ran up to where he lay with his eyes closed; he was still breathing.A great pity for him seized me; and I seated myself on the moss besidehim, staring into his pallid face.
And as I sat beside him while he was dying, he opened his eyes, andlooked at me. And I knew that he knew I had killed him. After a fewmoments he died.
"Amochol!" I said under my breath. "God alone knows why I am sorry forthis dead priest." And as I rose and stared about me, I caught sight oftwo pointed ears behind a bush; then two more pricked up sharply; thenthe head of a wolf popped up over a fallen log. But as I began toreload my rifle, there came a great scurrying and scattering in thethickets, and I heard the Andastes running off, leaving their deadmaster to me and to my people, who were now arriving.
I do not know who took his scalp; but it was taken by some Indian orRanger who came crowding around to look down upon this painted dead manin his scarlet cloak.
"Amochol is dead," I said to Boyd.
He looked at me with lack-lustre eyes, nodding. We marched on along thetrail by which we had arrived.
For five miles we proceeded in silence, my Indians flanking the file ofriflemen. Then Boyd gave the signal to halt, and sent forward theSagamore, the Grey-Feather, and Tahoontowhee to inform the General thatwe would await the army in this place.
The Indians, so coolly taken from my command, had gone ere I came upfrom the rear to find what Boyd had done.
"Are you mad?" I exclaimed, losing my temper, "Do you propose to halthere at the very mouth of the hornet's nest?"
He did not rebuke me for such gross lack of discipline and respect--infact, he seemed scarcely to heed at all what I said, but seated himselfat the foot of a pine tree and lit his pipe. As I stood biting my lipand looking around at the woods encircling us, he beckoned two of hismen, gave them some orders in a low voice, crossed one leg over theother, and continued to smoke the carved and painted Oneida pipe hecarried in his shot-pouch.
I saw the two riflemen shoulder their long weapons and go forward inobedience to his orders; and when again I approached him he said:
"They will make plain to Sullivan what your Indians may garble inrepeating--that I mean to await the army in this place and save myparty these useless miles of travelling. Do you object?"
"Our men are not tired," I said, astonished, "and our advanced guardcan not be very far away. Do you not think it more prudent for us tocontinue the movement toward our own people?"
"Very well--if you like," he said indifferently.
After a few minutes' inaction, he rose, sounded his whistle; the mengot to their feet, fell in, and started, rifles a-trail. But we hadproceeded scarcely a dozen rods into the big timber when we discoveredour two riflemen, who had so recently left us, running back toward usand looking over their shoulders as they ran. When they saw us, theyhalted and shouted for us to hasten, as there were several SenecaIndians standing beside the trail ahead.
In a flash of intuition it came to me that here was a cleared runway tosome trap.
"Don't leave the trail!" I said to Boyd. "Don't be drawn out of it now.For God's sake hold your men and don't give chase to those Indians."
"Press on!" said Boyd curtly; and our little column trotted forward.
Something crashed in a near thicket and went off like a deer. The men,greatly excited, strove to catch a glimpse of the running creature, butthe bush was too dense.
Suddenly a rifleman, who was leading our rapid advance, caught sight ofthe same Senecas who had alarmed him and his companion; and he startedtoward them with a savage shout, followed by a dozen others.
Hanierri turned to Boyd and begged him earnestly not to permit anypursuit. But Boyd pushed him aside impatiently, and blew theview-halloo on his ranger's whistle; and in a moment we all werescattering in full pursuit of five lithe and agile Senecas, all in fullwar-paint, who appeared to be in a panic, for they ran through thethickets like terrified sheep, huddling and crowding on one another'sheels.
"Boyd!" I panted, catching up with him. "This whole business looks likea trap to me. Whistle your men back to the trail, for I am certain thatthese Senecas are drawing us toward their main body."
"We'll catch one of them first," he said; and shouted to Murphy to fireand cripple the nearest. But the flying Senecas had now vanished into aheavily-wooded gully, and there was nothing for Murphy to fire at.
I swung in my tracks, confronting Boyd.
"Will you halt your people before it is too late?" I demanded. "Whereare your proper senses? You behave like a man who has lost his mentalbalance!"
He gave me a dazed look, where he had been within his rights had he cutme down with his hatchet.
"What did you say?" he stammered, passing his hand over his eyes asthough something had obscured his sight.
"I asked you to sound the recall. Those Indians we chase are leading uswhither they will. What in God's name ails you, Boyd? Have you neverbefore seen an ambush?"
He stood motionless, as though stupefied, staring straight ahead ofhim. Then he said, hesitatingly, that he desired Tim Murphy to crippleone of the Senecas and fetch him in so that we might interrogate him.
Such infant's babble astounded and sickened me, and I was about toretort when a shout from one of our men drew our attention to the gullybelow. And there were our terrified Indians peering out cunningly at uslike so many foxes playing tag with an unbroken puppy pack.
"Come, sir," said I in deepest anxiety, "the game is too plain foranybody but a fool to follow. Sound your recall!"
He set his whistle to his lips, and as I stood there, thunderstruck andhelpless, the shrill call rang out: "Forward! Hark-away!"
Instantly our entire party leaped forward; the Indians vanished; and weran on headlong, pell-mell, hellward into the trap prepared for ourdestruction.
The explosion of a heavy rifle on our right was what first halted us, Ithink. One of the soldiers from the 4th Pennsylvania was down in thedead leaves kicking and scuffling about all over blood. Before he hadrolled over twice, a ragged but loud volley on our left went throughour disordered files, knocking over two more soldiers. The screaming ofone poor fellow seemed to bring Boyd to his senses. He blew the recall,and our men fell back, and, carrying the dead and wounded, began toascend the wooded knoll down which we had been running when so abruptlychecked.
There was no more firing for the moment; we reached the top of theknoll, laid our dead and wounded behind trees, loaded, freshened ourpriming, and stood awaiting orders.
Then, all around us, completely encircling the foot of our knoll,woods, thickets, scattered bushes, seemed to be literally moving in thevague forest light.
"My God!" exclaimed Elerson to Murphy. "The woods are crawling withsavages!"
A dreadful and utter silence fell among us; Boyd, pale as a corpse,motioned his men to take posts, forming a small circle with our deadand wounded in the centre.
I saw Hanierri, the Oneida guide, fling aside his blanket, strip hispainted body to the beaded clout, draw himself up to his full andsuperb height, muttering, his eyes fixed on the hundreds of dark shapesstealing quietly among the thickets below our little hill.
The two Stockbridge Indians, the Yellow Moth and Yoiakim, pressedlightly against me on either side, like two great, noble dogs, afraid,yet trusting their master, and still dauntless in the threatening faceof duty.
Through the terrible stillness which had fallen upon us all, I couldhear the Oneida guide muttering his death-song; and presently my twoChristian Indians commenced in low voices to recite the prayers for thedying.
The next moment, Murphy and Elerson began to fire, slowly anddeliberately; and for a little while these two deadly and unerringrifles were the only pieces that spoke from our knoll. Then my distanttarget showed for a moment; I fired, reloaded, waited; fir
ed again; andour little circle of doomed men began to cheer as a brilliantly paintedwarrior sprang from the thicket below, shouted defiance, and crumpledup as though smitten by lightning when Murphy's rifle roared out itsfatal retort.
Then, for almost every soul that stood there, the end of the worldbegan; for a thousand men swarmed out of the thickets below, completelysurrounding us; and like a hurricane shrilling through naked woodsswept the death-halloo of five hundred Iroquois in their naked paint.
On every side the knoll was black with them as they came leapingforward, hatchets glittering; while over their heads the leaden hail ofTory musketry pelted us from north and south and east and west.
Down crashed Yoiakim at my side, his rifle exploding in mid-air as hefell dead and rolled over and over down the slope toward the masses ofhis enemies below.
As a Seneca seized the rolling body, set his foot on the dead shouldersand jerked back the head to scalp him, the Yellow Moth leaped forward,launching his hatchet. It flew, sparkling, and struck the scalper fullin the face. The next instant the Yellow Moth was among them, snarling,stabbing, raging, almost covered by Senecas who were wounding oneanother in their eagerness to slay him.
For a moment it seemed to me that there was a chance in this melee forus to cut our way through, and I caught Boyd by the arm and pointed. Avolley into our very backs staggered and almost stupefied us; throughthe swirling powder gloom, our men began to fall dead all around me. Isaw Sergeant Hungerman drop; privates Harvey, Conrey, Jim McElroy, JackMiller, Benny Curtin and poor Jack Putnam.
Murphy, clubbing his rifle, was bawling to his comrade, Elerson:
"To hell wid this, Davey! Av we don't pull foot we're a pair o' deadducks!"
"For God's sake, Boyd!" I shouted. "Break through there beside theYellow Moth!"
Boyd, wielding his clubbed rifle, cleared a circle amid the crowdingsavages; Sergeant Parker ran out into the yelling crush; the twogigantic riflemen, Murphy and Elerson, swinging their terrible weaponslike flails, smashed their way forward; behind them, using knife,hatchet, and stock, I led out the last men living on that knoll--NedMcDonald, Garrett Putnam, Jack Youse, and a French coureur-de-boiswhose name I have never learned.
All around us raged and yelled the maddened Seneca pack, slashing eachother again and again in their crazed attempts to reach us. The YellowMoth was stabbed through and through a hundred times, yet the ghastlycorpse still kept its feet, so terrible was the crushing pressure onevery side.
Suddenly, tearing a path through the frenzied mob, I saw a mob ofcursing, sweating, green-coated soldiers and rangers, struggling towardus--saw one of Butler's rangers seize Sergeant Parker by the collar ofhis hunting shirt, bawling out:
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Prisoner taken from Morgan's corps!"
Another, an officer of British regulars, I think, threw himself onBoyd, shouting:
"By heaven! It's Boyd of Derry! Are you not Tom Boyd, of Derry,Pennsylvania?"
"Yes, you bloody-backed Tory!" retorted Boyd, struggling to knife himunder his gorget. "And I'm Boyd of Morgan's, too!"
I aimed a blow at the red-coated officer, but my rifle stock broke offacross the skull of an Indian; and I began to beat a path toward Boydwith the steel barrel of my weapon, Murphy and Elerson raging forwardbeside me in such a very whirlwind of half-crazed fury that the Indiansgave way and leaped aside, trying to shoot at us.
Headlong through this momentary opening rushed Garrett Putnam, hisrifle-dress torn from his naked body, his heavy knife dripping in thehuge fist that clutched it. After him leaped Ned McDonald, thecoureur-de-bois, and Jack Youse, letting drive right and left withtheir hatchets. And, as the painted crowd ahead recoiled and shrankaside, Murphy, Elerson, and I went through, smashing out the way withour heavy weapons.
How we got through God only knows. I heard Murphy bellowing to Elerson:
"We're out! We're out! Pull foot, Davey, or the dirty Scutts will takeyour hair!"
A Pennsylvania soldier, running heavily down hill ahead of me, wasshot, sprang high into the air in one agonized bound, like a strickenhare, and fell forward under my very feet, so that I leaped over him asI ran. The Canadian coureur-de-bois was hit, but the bullet stung himto a speed incredible, and he flew on, screaming with pain, his brokenarm flapping.
Behind me I dared not look, but I knew the Seneca warriors were afterus at full speed. Bullets whined and whizzed beside us, striking thetrees on every side. A long slope of open woods now slanted away belowus.
As I ran, far ahead of me, among the trees, I saw men moving, yet darednot change my course. Then, as I drew nearer, I recognized Mr. Lodge,our surveyor, and Thomas Grant with the Jacob-staff, the fourchain-bearers with the chain, and Corporal Calhawn, all standing stockstill and gazing up the slope toward us.
The next moment Grant dropped his Jacob-staff, turned and ran; thechain-men flung away their implements, and Mr. Lodge and the entireparty, being totally unarmed, turned and fled, we on their heels, andbehind us a score of yelling Senecas, now driven to frenzy by the sightof so much terrified game in flight.
I saw poor Calhawn fall; I saw Grant run into the swamp below, shoutingfor help. Mr. Lodge, closely chased by a young warrior, ran toward adistant sentinel, and so eager was the Seneca to slay him that hechased the fleeing surveyor past the sentinel, and was shot in the backby the amazed soldier.
And now, all along the edge of the morass where our pickets wereposted, the bang! bang! bang! of musketry began. Murphy and Elersonbounded into safety; Ned McDonald, Garrett Putnam, the coureur-de-bais,and Jack Youse went staggering and reeling into the swamp. I attemptedto follow them, but three Senecas cut me out, and, with bursting heart,I sheered off and ran parallel with them, striving to reach our lines,the sentinels firing at my pursuers and running forward to interceptthem. Yet, so intent were these Seneca bloodhounds on my destructionthat they never swerved under the running fire of musketry; and I wasforced out and driven into the woods again to the northwest of ourlines.
Farther and farther away sounded the musketry in my ears, until thepounding pulses deadened and finally obliterated the sound. I could nolonger carry the shattered and bloody fragment of my rifle, and droppedit. Bullet-pouch, shot-pouch, powder-horn, water-bottle, hatchet I letfall, keeping only my knife, belt, and the thin, flat wallet whichcontained my letters from Lois and my journal. Even my cap I flungaway, moving always forward on a dog-trot, and ever twisting mysweat-drenched head to look behind.
Several times I caught distant glimpses of my pursuers, and saw thatthey walked sometimes, as though exhausted. Yet, I dared not bear tothe South, not knowing how many of them had continued on westward tocut me off from a return; so I jogged on northward, my heart nighbroken with misery and foreboding, sickened to the very soul with thememory of our slaughtered men upon the knoll. For of some thirty-oddriflemen, Indians, line soldiers, and scouts that Boyd had led out thenight before, only Elerson, Murphy, McDonald, Youse, thecoureur-de-bois, and I remained alive or untaken. Boyd was a prisoner,together with Sergeant Parker; all the others were dead to a man,excepting possibly my three Indians, Mayaro, Grey-Feather, andTahoontowhee, who Boyd had sent in to report us before we had sightedthe Senecas, and who might possibly have escaped the ambuscade.
As I plodded on, I dared not let my imagination dwell on Boyd andParker, for a dreadful instinct told me that the dead men on the knollwere better off. Yet, I tried to remember that a red-coated officer hadtaken Boyd, and one of Sir John's soldiers had captured Michael Parker.But I could find no comfort, no hope in this thought, because WalterButler was there, and Hiokatoo, and McDonald, and all that bloody band.The Senecas would surely demand the prisoners. There was not one soulto speak a word for them, unless Brant were near. That noble and humanewarrior alone could save them from the Seneca stake. And I feared hewas at the burnt bridge with his Mohawks, facing our army as he alwaysfaced it, dauntless, adroit, resourceful, and terrible.
A little stony stream ran down beside the trackless course I travelledand I seized th
e chance of confusing the tireless men who tracked me,and took to the stones, springing from one step to the next, takingcare not to wet my moccasins, dislodge moss or lichen, or in any mannermark the stones I trod on or break or disturb the branches and leavesabove me.
The stream ran almost north as did all the little water-courseshereabouts, and for a long while I followed it, until at last, to mygreat relief, it divided; and I followed the branch that ran northeast.Again this branch forked; I took the eastern course until, on the rightbank, I saw long, naked beds of rock stretching into low crags andcurving eastward.
Over this rock no Seneca could hope to track a cautious and hunted man.I walked sometimes, sometimes trotted; and so jogged on, bearing everto the east and south, meaning to cross the Chinisee River north of theconfluence, and pass clear around the head of the lake.
Here I made my mistake by assuming that, as our pioneers must still beworking on the burnt bridge, the enemy that had merely enveloped ourparty by curling around us his right flank, would again swing back totheir bluffs along the lake, and, though hope of ambuscade was over,dispute the passage of the stream and the morass with our own people.
But as I came out among the trees along the river bank, to myastonishment and alarm I saw an Indian house, and smoke curling fromthe chimney. So taken aback was I that I ran south to a great oak treeand stood behind it, striving to collect my thoughts and make out myproper bearings. But off again scattered every idea I had in my head,and I looked about me in a very panic, for I heard close at hand thebarking of Indian dogs and a vast murmur of voices; and, peering outagain from behind my tree I could see other houses close to the stripof forest where I hid, and the narrow lane between them was crowdedwith people.
Where I was, what this town might be, I could not surmise; nor did Iperceive any way out of this wasp's nest where I was now landed, exceptto retrace my trail. And that I dared not do.
There was now a great shouting in the village as though some person hadjust made a speech and his audience remained in two nods concerning itsimport.
Truly, this seemed to be no place for me; the woods were very open--asugar bush in all the gorgeous glory of scarlet, yellow, and purplefoliage, heavily fringed with thickets of bushes and young hardwoodgrowth, which for the moment had hid the town from me, and no doubtconcealed me from the people close at hand. To retreat through such astrip of woodland was impossible without discovery. Besides, somewhereon my back trail were enemies, though just where I could not know. Fora moment's despair, it seemed to me that only the wings of a bird couldsave me now; then, as I involuntarily cast my gaze aloft, the thoughtto climb followed; and up I went into the branches, where the blaze offoliage concealed me; and lay close to a great limb looking down overthe top of the thicket to the open river bank. And what I saw astoundedme; the enemy's baggage wagons were fording the river; his cattle-drovehad just been herded across, and the open space was already full of hisgaunt cows and oxen.
Rangers and Greens pricked them forward with their bayonets, forcingthem out of the opening and driving them northwest through theoutskirts of the village. The wagons, horses, and vehicles, in adreadful plight, followed the herd-guard. After them marched Butler'srear-guard, rangers, Greens, renegades, Indians sullenly turning theirheads to listen and to gaze as the uproar from the village increasedand burst into a very frenzy of diabolical yelling.
Suddenly, out through the narrow lane or street surged hundreds ofSeneca warriors, all clustering and crowding around something in thecentre of the mass; and as the throng, now lurching this way, nowdriving that way, spread out over the cleared land up to the edges ofthe very thicket which I overlooked, my blood froze in my veins.
For in the centre of that mass of painted, capering demons, walked Boydand Parker, their bloodless faces set and grim, their heads carriedhigh.
Into this confusion drove the baggage wagons; the herd-guards began toshout angrily and drive back the Indians; the wagons drove slowlythrough the lane, the drivers looking down curiously at Boyd and hispallid companion, but not insulting them.
One by one the battered and rickety wagons jolted by; then came thebloody and dishevelled soldiery plodding with shouldered musketsthrough the lanes of excited warriors, scarcely letting their haggardeyes rest on the two prisoners who stood, unpinioned in the front rank.
A mounted officer, leaning from his saddle, asked the Senecas what theymeant to do with these prisoners; and the ferocious response seemed toshock him, for he drew bridle and stared at Boyd as though fascinated.
So near to where I lay was Boyd standing that I could see the checkedquiver of his lips as he bit them to control his nerves before hespoke. Then he said to the mounted officer, in a perfectly even anddistinct voice:
"Can you not secure for us, sir, the civilized treatment of prisonersof war?"
"I dare not interfere," faltered the officer, staring around at the seaof devilish faces.
"And you, a white man, return me such a cowardly answer?"
Another motley company came marching up from the river, led by a superbMohawk Indian in full war-paint and feathers; and, blocked by themounted officer in front, halted.
I saw Boyd's despairing glance sweep their files; then suddenly hiseyes brightened.
"Brant!" he cried.
And then I saw that the splendid Mohawk leader was the greatThayendanegea himself.
"Boyd," he said calmly, "I am sorry for you. I would help you if Icould. But," he added, with a bitter smile, "there are those inauthority among us who are more savage than those you white men callsavages. One of these--gentlemen--has overruled me, denying my morehumane counsel.... I am sorry, Boyd."
"Brant!" he said in a ringing voice. "Look at me attentively!"
"I look upon you, Boyd."
Then something extraordinary happened; I saw Boyd make a quick sign;saw poor Parker imitate him; realized vaguely that it was the Masonicsignal of distress.
Brant remained absolutely motionless for a full minute; suddenly hesprang forward, pushed away the Senecas who immediately surrounded theprisoners, shoving them aside right and left so fiercely that in amoment the whole throng was wavering and shrinking back.
Then Brant, facing the astonished warriors, laid his hand on Boyd'shead and then on Parker's.
"Senecas!" he said in a cold and ringing voice. "These men are mine;Let no man dare interfere with these two prisoners. They belong to me.I now give them my promise of safety. I take them under myprotection--I, Thayendanegea! I do not ask them of you; I take them. Ido not explain why. I do not permit you--not one among you to--toquestion me. What I have done is done. It is Joseph Brant who hasspoken!"
He turned calmly to Boyd, said something in a low voice, turned sharplyon his heel, and marched forward at the head of his company of Mohawksand halfbreeds.
Then I saw Hiokatoo come up and stand glaring at Boyd, showing histeeth at him like a baffled wolf; and Boyd laughed in his face andseated himself on a log beside the path, coolly and insolently turninghis back on the Seneca warriors, and leisurely lighting his pipe.
Parker came and seated himself beside him; and they conversed in voicesso low that I could not hear what they said, but Boyd smiled atintervals, and Parker's bruised visage relaxed.
The Senecas had fallen back in a sullen line, their ferocious eyesnever shifting from the two prisoners. Hiokatoo set four warriors toguard them, then, passing slowly in front of Boyd, spat on the ground.
"Dog of a Seneca!" said Boyd fiercely. "What you touch you defile,stinking wolverine that you are!"
"Dog of a white man!" retorted Hiokatoo. "You are not yet in your ownkennel! Remember that!"
"But you are!" said Boyd. "The stench betrays the wolverine! Go tellyour filthy cubs that my young men are counting the scalps of yourCat-People and your Andastes, and that the mangy lock of Amochol shallbe thrown to our swine!"
Struck entirely speechless by such rash effrontery and by his own fury,the dreaded Seneca war-chief groped for his hatchet with tr
emblinghands; but a warning hiss from one of his own Mountain Snakes on guardbrought him to his senses.
Such an embodiment of devilish fury I had never seen on any humancountenance; only could it be matched in the lightning snarl of asurprised lynx or in the deadly stare of a rattlesnake. He uttered nosound; after a moment the thin lips, which had receded, sheathed theteeth again; and he walked to a tree and stood leaning against it asanother company of Sir John's Royal Greens marched up from the riverbank and continued northwest, passing between the tree where I layconcealed, and the log where Boyd and Parker sat.
McDonald, mounted, naked claymore in his hand, came by, leading acompany of his renegades. He grinned at Boyd, and passed hisbasket-hilt around his throat with a significant gesture, then grinnedagain.
"Not yet, you Scotch loon!" said Boyd gently. "I'll live to pepper yourkilted tatterdemalions so they'll beg for the mercies of Glencoe!"
After that, for a long while only stragglers came limping by--lank,bloody, starved creatures, who never even turned their sick eyes on thepeople they passed among.
Then, after nearly half an hour, a full battalion of Johnson's Greensforded the river, and behind them came Butler's Rangers.
Old John Butler, squatting his saddle like a weather-beaten toad, rodeby with scarcely a glance at the prisoners; and Greens and Rangerspassed on through the village and out of sight to the northwest.
I had thought the defile was ended, when, looking back, I saw someIndians crossing the ford, carrying over a white officer. At first Isupposed he was wounded, but soon saw that he had not desired to wethis boots.
What had become of his horse I could only guess, for he wore spurs andsword, and the sombre uniform of the Rangers.
Then, as he came up I saw that he was Walter Butler.
As he approached, his dark eyes were fixed on the prisoners; and whenhe came opposite to them he halted.
Boyd returned his insolent stare very coolly, continuing to smoke hispipe. Slowly the golden-brown eyes of Butler contracted, and into hispale, handsome, but sinister face crept a slight colour.
"So you are Boyd!" he said menacingly.
"Yes, I am Boyd. What next?"
"What next?" repeated Walter Butler. "Well, really I don't know, myimpudent friend, but I strongly suspect the Seneca stake will comenext."
Boyd laughed: "We gave Brant a sign that you also should recognize. Weare now under his protection."
"What sign?" demanded Butler, his eyes becoming yellow and fixed. And,as Boyd carelessly repeated the rapid and mystical appeal, "Oh!" hesaid coolly. "So that is what you count on, is it?"
"Naturally."
"With me also?"
"You are a Mason."
"Also," snarled Butler, "I am an officer in his British Majesty'sservice. Now, answer the questions I put to you. How many cannon didyour Yankee General send back to Tioga after Catharines-town was burnt,and how many has he with him?"
"Do you suppose that I am going to answer your questions?" said Boyd,amused.
"I think you will, Come, sir; what artillery is he bringing north withhim?"
And as Boyd merely looked at him with contempt, he stepped nearer, bentsuddenly, and jerked Boyd to his feet.
"You Yankee dog!" he said; "Stand up when your betters stand!"
Boyd reddened to his temples.
"Murderer!" he said. "Does a gentleman stand in the presence of theCherry Valley butcher?" And he seated himself again on his log.
Butler's visage became deathly, and for a full minute he stood there insilence. Suddenly he turned, nodded to Hiokatoo, pointed at Boyd, thenat Parker. Both prisoners rose as a yell of ferocious joy split the airfrom the Senecas. Then, wheeling on Boyd:
"Will you answer my questions?"
"No!"
"Do you refuse to answer the military questions put to you by anofficer?"
"No prisoner of war is compelled to do that!"
"You are mistaken; I compel you to answer on pain of death!"
"I refuse."
Both men were deadly pale. Parker also had risen and was now standingbeside Boyd.
"I claim the civilized treatment due to an officer," said Boyd quietly.
"Refused unless you answer!"
"I shall not answer. I am under Brant's protection!"
"Brant!" exclaimed Butler, his pallid visage contorted. "What do I carefor Brant? Who is Brant to offer you immunity? By God, sir, I tell youthat you shall answer my questions--any I think fit to ask you--everyone of them--or I turn you over to my Senecas!"
"You dare not!"
"Answer me, or you shall soon learn what I dare and dare not do!"
Boyd, pale as a sheet, said slowly:
"I do believe you capable of every infamy, Mr. Butler. I do believe,now, that the murderer of little children will sacrifice me to theseSenecas if I do not answer his dishonorable questions. And so,believing this, and always holding your person in the utmost loathingand contempt, I refuse to reveal to you one single item concerning thearmy in which I have the honour and privilege to serve."
"Take him!" said Butler to the crowding Senecas.
I have never been able to bring myself to write down how my comradedied. Many have written something of his death, judging the manner ofit from the condition in which his poor body was discovered the nextday by our advance. Yet, even these have shrunk from writing any butthe most general details, because the horror of the truth isindescribable, and not even the most callous mind could endure it all.
God knows how I myself survived the swimming horror of that hellishscene--for the stake was hewn and planted full within my view.... Andit took him many hours to die--all the long September afternoon.... Andthey never left him for one moment.
No, I can not write it, nor could I even tell my comrades when theycame up next day, how in detail died Thomas Boyd, lieutenant in myregiment of rifles. Only from what was left of him could they drawtheir horrible and unthinkable conclusions.
I do not know whether I have more or less of courage than the usual manand soldier, but this I do know, that had I possessed a rifle where Ilay concealed, long before they wrenched the first groan from histortured body I would have fired at my comrade's heart and trusted tomy Maker and my legs.
No torture that I ever heard of or could ever have conceived--nopunishment, no agony, no Calvary ever has matched the hellishhideousness of the endless execution of this young man.... He was onlytwenty-two years old; only a lieutenant among the thousands who servedtheir common motherland. No man who ever lived has died more bravely;none, perhaps, as horribly and as slowly. And it seemed as though inthat powerful, symmetrical, magnificent body, even after it becamescarcely recognizable as human, that the spark of life could not beextinguished even though it were cut into a million shreds andscattered to the winds like the fair body of Osiris.
And this is all I care to say how it was that my comrade died, savethat he endured bravely; and that while consciousness remained, not onesecret would he reveal; not one plea for mercy escaped his lips.
Parker died more swiftly and mercifully.
It was after sunset when the Senecas left the place, but the sky abovewas still rosy. And as they slowly marched past the corpses of the twomen whom they had slain, every Seneca drew his hatchet and shouted:
"Salute! O Roya-neh!" fiercely honoring the dead bodies of the bravestmen who had ever died in the Long House.
On the following afternoon I ventured from my concealment, and wasstriving to dig a grave for my two comrades, using my knife to do it,when the riflemen of our advance discovered me across the river.
A moment later I looked up, my eyes blinded by tears, as the arm of theSagamore was flung round my shoulders, and the hands of theGrey-Feather and Tahoontowhee timidly sought mine.
"Brother!" they said gently.
* "Tekasenthos, O Sagamore!" I whispered, dropping my head on his broadshoulder. "Issi tye-y-ad-akeron, akwah de-ya-kon-akor-on-don!"
[* "I weep, O Sagamore! Yonder
are lying bodies, yea, and of chiefs!"]