We must now go back to the moment when Gilbert and Fenton, anxious to
obtain some venison for themselves and their hungry companions, were
creeping along in the hopes of getting a shot at the deer they had seen
from the fort. Having at length, as they supposed, got close enough to
the deer to make sure of it, Gilbert was on the point of firing when,
hearing Fenton cry out, he looked round and saw his friend, to his
dismay, in the hands of several Indians; while others, springing
forward, seized his arms before he could even point his gun towards
them.
It was useless, they knew, to plead for mercy; the Indians, indeed,
threatened them by signs with instant death should they cry out.
They were hurried on at a rapid rate till they reached a ford across the
stream, which ran as they supposed by their camp. On and on they went,
six only of their captors remaining with them, while the main body
returned into the forest.
"They cannot go on for ever," observed Gilbert, "and as they must camp
at some time or other, we must then look out for an opportunity to
escape. It would be a shame to our manhood were we to allow ourselves
to be held captive by six Indians."
"I am ready for any plan you may propose," answered Fenton, "but it will
be no easy matter to get free without weapons and with our arms secured
behind our backs."
"If they leave us together to-night, I will try what my teeth can do,"
answered Gilbert, "in casting loose the bonds which bind your hands, and
you can then render the same good service to me."
"I pray that we may have the chance," remarked Fenton, "though, when our
arms are free, how we are to escape from the lynx-eyed natives I know
not."
"That must be as opportunity offers," said Gilbert.
The possibility of escaping kept up their spirits, and they moved along
with apparent willingness in the direction the Indians wished them to
go. They had thus made considerable progress before nightfall, when the
Indians halted in a small open space in the midst of a thick wood, where
they lighted a fire and prepared, as it seemed, to pass the night there.
Much to Gilbert and Fenton's disappointment, however, the cunning
natives placed them apart, one on each side of the fire, though they
gave them to eat some of the venison and dried fish which they carried
in their wallets.
"We must put a good face on the matter, and not let them suspect our
intentions," observed Gilbert. "Let us sing them a merry stave. It
will make them fancy we are thoughtless about the future, and they will
deem it less necessary to watch us closely. No matter the words,
provided the tune is such as to take their fancy."
Thereon they struck up an air which they had often sung on board ship.
The Indians nodded their heads approvingly. Next morning two of the
Indians went out hunting, and on their return with a small deer, shared
the flesh with their prisoners. After this they travelled on as before,
and continued moving to the northward for two more days. Every mile
they went they felt that their chance of escape was lessening, still,
like brave lads, they did not give way to despair. They tried to learn
from the Indians what had become of their party; they understood that
they were on a war-path, but would ere long overtake them.
"To-night or never we must make our attempt to escape, Ned," said
Gilbert. "I have heard tell of the cruel tricks of these Indians, who
only spare the lives of their prisoners at first, that they may carry
them to their villages to show them to their squaws, before they put
them to death with the most cruel tortures. Such may be the lot they
intend for us, and such an ending is not to my taste any more than it is
to yours, I am sure."
"That it is not," said Fenton; "and if we can once free our arms and get
hold of our weapons, we may, at all events, have a brave tussle for
life."
Another night came. Gilbert lay down some way farther off from the fire
than usual, and Fenton, pretending to stumble as he passed, threw
himself down by his side. Their guards, taking no notice of this,
allowed them to remain where they were, while they set themselves to
cooking part of a deer they had shot during the day. The Indians, who
had been ranging two at a time over the country in search of game, were
more tired than usual, and after gorging themselves with venison, lay
down to sleep, one only remaining on guard to keep up the fire. He,
too, after piling on more wood, which, being green, did not blaze up,
sat down, and in a short time Gilbert saw him stretch himself at his
length, a loud snore announcing that he, also, had gone to sleep.
Gilbert had been gradually getting his head closer and closer to
Fenton's arms; he now in eager haste began to gnaw away at the leathern
thongs which bound them. The task was not an easy one, and such as a
sailor only, accustomed to all sorts of knots, could have accomplished.
It was done at length, when, lifting up his head, he observed that the
Indians were still fast asleep. Fenton on this, slowly rolling round,
with his hands at liberty, quickly cast off Gilbert's bonds. To get
hold of their weapons was their next task. Fortunately, their fire-arms
and ammunition-belts had been carried by the Indians who lay nearest to
them; they marked this while the fire was still blazing, and therefore
knew where to find them. While Fenton crawled towards one, Gilbert in
the same way approached the other,--now stooping, now moving a few
inches, till he felt his hands on his weapon. Fenton eagerly grasping
his sword, rose to his feet, and drawing it from its scabbard, pointing
Gilbert to do the same, made as if he would kill the sleeping Indians.
Gilbert lifted up his hand to implore him to desist just as his weapon
was about to descend, scarcely able to refrain from crying out. Fenton
obeyed him. He then signed to him that they must next, if possible,
possess themselves of the Indians' bows. The attempt was a daring one,
but they so lay that they could be lifted without disturbing their
owners. Though they could not carry them off, the fire would render
them useless. And now, seeing how soundly the Indians slept, they
lifted them one after the other, and drove their ends among the burning
embers. The Indians' tomahawks were in their belts, or they would have
treated them in the same manner. Any further delay would be dangerous:
stooping down so that, should either of the Indians awake, there might
be less chance of their being seen, they made their way into the forest.
Should they keep to the south they might meet their approaching foes.
They therefore turned to the east, hoping thus either to make their way
to the sea or to reach the village of some friendly tribe. Every
instant they expected to be pursued; but as they stopped to listen no
sound reached their ears, and they continued their course, guided by the
stars, of which they could occasionally catch sight amid the openings in
the trees. Should they once get to a distance, they had hopes that the
Indians would not discover their trail till the morning, which would
give them a long start. After going some distance they gained the open
country, across which they could make their way without difficulty.
Their spirits raised with the feeling of regained liberty, and the
thoughts of escaping the cruel death or galling captivity which would
have been their lot, they sped on.
Daylight at length broke; the rising sun now served them as a guide, and
they were pushing on with his rays in their eyes, faint from their
exertions, when they saw before them a broad river, on the opposite side
of which, with a wood beyond, appeared an Indian village, hitherto
unperceived. Descending the hill full in view of the village, they must
they knew be seen. Making a virtue of necessity, Gilbert proposed that
they should at once boldly enter the village and demand the hospitality
of its inhabitants. A canoe lay on the bank: stepping into it, they
paddled across to a landing-place, near which already a number of women
and children and a few men were collected, wondering who the paleface
strangers could be. Gilbert stepped boldly on shore, followed by
Fenton.
"We have come as friends," he shouted, "and our wish is to be at peace
with you, and with all the children of this country. Conduct us to your
chief."
The bold bearing of the two youths and their good looks produced a
favourable effect on the gentler portion of the inhabitants, who crowded
round them, eager to examine them more nearly; whereat Gilbert and his
companion smiled and offered their hands, making every sign they could
think of to show their friendly feelings. At this the women looked well
pleased, and inquired whether they were hungry.
"Indeed we are, fair dames," answered Fenton, making signs, "and
thankful should we be for any food you can bring us."
On this several of the younger women hurried to their wigwams and soon
returned with a supply of fish and plantains and several fruits, which
they placed on the grass in a shady spot under a tree before the
strangers, who set to with a good will, nodding right and left in
acknowledgment to their entertainers. They had just finished when they
saw an old Indian, whom they knew by his dress to be a chief,
accompanied by several councillors, approaching them. They rose and
advanced to meet him, Gilbert, who spoke the Indian language better than
his companion, shouting out that they were glad to see so renowned a
chief, whose friendship they desired to make. The chief, who it
appeared had heard rumours of the fresh arrival of the English in the
country, supposing that they were to be followed by a large army,
treated them accordingly with much courtesy and respect, and assured
them that everything in his village was at their disposal, and that it
would be his pride to entertain them as long as they remained.
Thus far they believed that they were safe. They, however, had fears
that the Indians from whom they had escaped might follow on their trail,
and come to demand them. They therefore proposed, after resting, to set
out again, hoping in course of time to reach the sea. The old chief,
however, though he made them welcome, had no intention of letting them
depart. When the next day they expressed a wish to continue their
journey, he made the excuse that enemies were abroad who might take
their lives, and as they were his guests that the blame would rest with
him. They had expected before this the arrival of the Indians from whom
they had escaped; but as another day passed by and they did not appear,
they guessed truly that the tribes were at enmity, and that their
captors had not dared to pursue them. It was, however, probable that
they might be lurking in the neighbourhood, in the hopes of overtaking
them should they venture from the village; they therefore, with less
unwillingness than they would otherwise have felt, consented to remain,
hoping every day that the chief would send an escort with them to the
coast, which they supposed was at no great distance. When, however,
they made the request to him, he observed that it was many days' journey
off, and that the inhabitants were enemies, who would attack his people
should he send them. Thus day after day, and week after week went by;
and so strictly watched were they that they could find no opportunity of
escaping. They were treated all the time, however, by the women as
kindly as at first; and the chiefs two daughters gave them to
understand, that, if they would promise to remain, they should become
their husbands and leaders of the tribe. Neither Gilbert nor Fenton,
however, desired this honour, though they were too wise directly to
refuse the proposal.
Their captivity being light, they were tolerably happy, and would have
been more so had they been able to let their friends know that they were
safe. At last, the chief confided to them the cause of their detention:
a tribe, between whom and his people an hereditary feud had existed, had
of late years always proved victorious, the reason being, as he
observed, that they had a white man dwelling among them, who, although
he did not himself fight, always directed their counsels; and now, as he
had got two white men, he hoped to beat his enemies, especially if they
accompanied him to battle, which he had made up his mind that they
should do. On receiving this announcement, Gilbert and Fenton consulted
together as to how they should act. Gilbert declared he had no wish to
fight any Indians who had not molested him. As to that, Fenton thought
that there was no great harm, and that it was their duty to help those
who had befriended them. "If the Indians go out to fight, and we are
compelled to accompany them, we may as well help them to gain the
victory, and bring the war sooner to a conclusion," he answered. His
reasoning, however, did not satisfy Gilbert.
"Have you considered who the white man possibly is of whom the chief
speaks?" he asked. "My idea is, that, if he has been among them for
several years, he must be my father; and, if so, I would never consent
to fight against his friends, though he himself were not in the battle."
"I should say, on the contrary," said Fenton. "Supposing the white man
spoken of is your father, they must have detained him against his will,
and therefore, if we can conquer them, we shall be doing him good
service by setting him free."
The next day there was a great stir in the village, and warriors from
all directions came flocking in, adorned with war-paint and feathers.
The chief made them a long harangue, and informed them that his white
sons were going forth with their lightning-makers to assist them in
fighting their foes, and that victory was certain. As Gilbert still
hesitated, the chief told him very plainly that go he must or take the
consequences; so, Fenton having agreed to help the chief, he resolved to
make the best of a bad matter. He and Fenton also intended to try and
learn the whereabouts of the white man and to protect him, whoever he
was, from their friends.
The whole force which had been marshalled overnight set forth some hours
before daylight--not marching like an English army, shoulder to
shoulder, but following each other in several lines, each headed by a
warrior of renown, like so many snakes stealing along the grass.
Gilbert and Fenton followed in the march, one behind the other. Thus
they proceeded across the country; the lines never interfering with, but
always keeping in sight of, each other. At night they encamped round
several fires, a strong guard keeping watch over those who slept. They
hoped, before the evening of the next day, to reach the territory of
their enemies. The following evening, after a short rest in a thick
forest, where no fires were lighted which might betray them, they again
set forward, expecting ere long to come upon a village, which they hoped
to take by surprise and put all the inhabitants to death.
"I will not assist them in so horrible a butchery," said Gilbert; "but
perchance while they are engaged in it we may find an opportunity of
escaping and letting the white man know the danger he and his friends
are in."
The Indians now advanced more cautiously even than before, taking
advantage of all the shelter the country afforded till night came on,
when, after going some distance, a sign from the chief was passed from
line to line. They halted in a thick wood, where they lay down, not a
word being uttered, Gilbert and Fenton following their example. As they
thus lay in perfect silence, they heard human voices, the laughter of
young people, the barking of dogs, and other sounds, coming, evidently,
from the village to be attacked. Soon the voices died away as the
inhabitants went to rest. The night passed by, the Indians watching
eagerly for the signal to advance. It was given about an hour before
dawn, when the band of warriors crept rapidly forward like tigers about
to spring on their prey. Gilbert felt much inclined to fire off his
piece to give the doomed inhabitants the alarm, but he feared that he
and Fenton would lose their lives; and that the inhabitants, not having
time to collect for their defence, would still be put to death. As they
approached, the lines separated till the entire village was surrounded,
when the silence of night was broken by a succession of fearful
war-whoops, and the warriors rushed forward to their work of
destruction. At that moment, Gilbert plucking Fenton by the arm, they
bounded off, unperceived by the old chief or the rest with him, their
only aim being to escape from the scene of slaughter. On they went at a
rate which would have made it difficult even for the Indians to overtake
them. Day was breaking when they found themselves close to a river; as
they glanced for an instant back, they could see the flames ascending
from the burning village, round which the work of slaughter was going
forward. As they could have done nothing to prevent it, it only incited
them to fresh exertions to escape from the power of the savages.
Happily the darkness would prevent their trail being followed, even
should their escape be discovered, which it was not likely to be for
some time, engaged as the Indians were; while, in the neighbourhood of
the village, it would probably be obliterated by the feet of the
inhabitants who might have attempted to escape.
By following the course of the river, they hoped to meet with a canoe,
of which they would not scruple to take possession. If not, Gilbert
proposed that they should build a raft, to which they would rather trust
themselves, imperfectly constructed as it might be, than to the tender
mercies of the savages.
"For my part I would rather swim for it," cried Fenton.
"We might throw them off the scent by so doing," said Gilbert; "but then
we should lose our arms or damage our powder; let us keep that dry, and
be able to fight like men for our lives if need be."
"You are right, Gilbert," answered his companion; "you see we have clear
ground ahead, we may make play over it."
They bounded on across a wide meadow which skirted the river for some
distance, hoping that they might not be discovered till they had gained
the shelter of the forest beyond. Never, probably, had they run so
fast; the hope of securing their liberty gave wings to their feet, while
as yet they felt able to continue their flight for many a mile more.
How many they had accomplished they were unable to calculate, but at
length they were compelled to stop for want of breath. Throwing
themselves on the ground, they lay listening attentively for any sound
which might betoken the approach of pursuers, but except the notes of
the song-birds, and the harsher screams of the wild-fowl as they skimmed
along the banks, nothing could they hear, and after resting for a few
minutes they again, with renewed strength, sped onwards. Still, as they
ran, they looked for a canoe, but none could they discover.
"We shall have to build a raft, after all," said Gilbert; "but no
matter, if it will float us we will manage to get down to the sea, and
then make our way along the shore till we reach the mouth of the James
River."
"Let us first get beyond the reach of our late friends," answered
Fenton: "it would not be safe to stop as yet, for, depend on it, they
will pursue us if they once discover our trail."
Gilbert agreeing with this, they sped on as before. The country before
them was again partially open, here and there interspersed with clumps
of trees and copses, where the depth of soil allowed their growth.
They had just passed through a small wood when they saw before them a
tall figure proceeding in the same direction in which they were going,
but far more leisurely. "Can it be an Indian?" exclaimed Fenton,
placing his hand on Gilbert's arm for a moment as they stopped to
observe him.
"He wears a dress of skins and mocassins; he has a quiver on his back,
and bow in his hand," observed Gilbert.
"Yes," replied Fenton, "but no Indian has his head covered with a hat
like that, and see, if I mistake not, he has a sword girded to his side,
such as an Indian never carries."
"Then let us overtake him," exclaimed Gilbert; "should he prove to be an
enemy, we are two to one, we need not fear him, although my hope is that
he is a friend."
"On, then," cried Fenton, and, setting off, they quickly gained on the
stranger. Hearing their footsteps, he turned and faced them,
cautiously, as he did so, fixing an arrow in his bow. The moment he saw
them, however, he withdrew it, letting the arrow fall to the ground, and
hastened with hurried strides towards them. They now saw that he was
indeed a white man, with a flowing long beard, which made him appear
older than he really was. He looked from one to the other with an
inquiring gaze. Gilbert's heart bounded within him.
"Can it be?" exclaimed the stranger, as he stretched out his arms. "Art
thou Gilbert Audley?"
"Yes, father, yes," exclaimed Gilbert, as he sprang forward, and the
next instant was clasped to the breast of Captain Audley.
"I had heard that thou wert far off, my boy," said Captain Audley, "and
little did I expect to see thee, and was even now on my way to obtain
the aid of some of our countrymen, who are not a day's voyage from this,
to rescue thee from the hands of those who held thee in bondage. And
this is the son of my noble friend, Sir Edward Fenton," he continued,
stretching out his hand to Gilbert's companion. A few words sufficed,
to explain how he knew all this. Gilbert then told him of their escape
from the Indians, and of the probability of their being pursued.
"Then we must not tarry here longer," said Captain Audley, "though I
fear that my weary limbs will not carry me as fast over the ground as
your young ones have brought you along. It were better for you to
hasten on rather than run the risk of being overtaken by the savages."
"No, no, father! having once found you, we will not desert you,"
exclaimed Gilbert.
"That we will not, sir," said Fenton, "though overtaken by a whole host
of pursuers, we shall be three to oppose them, while we may use a stout
tree as a fortress, behind which we may find shelter, and with fire-arms
in our hands, while our ammunition lasts we may keep at bay any number
who may come against us."
"We will rather strive to avoid them without shedding of blood," said
Captain Audley; "I have seen so much slaughter since I have dwelt among
these benighted savages that I pray I may live and die in peace, without
being compelled to draw another drop of blood from the veins of my
fellow-creatures--but on, lads, on, we must not longer waste the time
when relentless foes are following us, and sure I am that the savages
will not allow you to escape without an attempt to recover you."
Saying this, Captain Audley took his son's arm, and together they
hastened on in the direction they had before been proceeding. Still, as
he had said, he found that he could not run at the speed at which they
had been going. Both Gilbert and Fenton, however, endeavoured to assure
him that it was fast enough to enable them still to keep ahead of their
pursuers. In this, however, they were wrong: scarcely had they
proceeded more than a league when Gilbert, striking his foot against a
root, stumbled, and as he recovered himself, turning his head he saw a
large band of Indians appearing above the brow of a slight hill they had
crossed half a mile or so back. The cry he uttered made his companions
look in the same direction.
"We shall have to try your plan, Fenton," he said in a tone which lacked
not cheerfulness. "Father, under your eye we shall fight with
confidence."
"We have time, at all events, to choose our ground," said Captain
Audley, looking round; "yonder tree by the river's bank will serve our
purpose, and at the last, should your ammunition fail, and my arrows all
be shot away, we may plunge into the stream and swim along it till we
gain the opposite bank, whence we can float down the current on a raft
till we meet our countrymen, encamped, as I hear, some leagues on--
though I know not their exact position." This was said as they were
making their way towards a huge tree the roots of which projecting far
into the water, left the ground on the near side sufficiently smooth to
enable them to slip round it for the purpose of firing. As they had
seen the Indians, they knew that they must themselves have been
discovered. They had but little time to wait, for the savages with loud
cries were rapidly approaching, exhibiting on their spears the scalps
they had that morning taken from their unsuspecting foes, surprised in
the village.
Gilbert and Fenton quickly loaded and stood ready to fire directly an
arrow should be drawn against them. The savages, however, having got
almost, within range of their pieces, halted, unwilling to expose
themselves to the deadly balls, of whose searching power they had so
much dread. Gilbert, who lay sheltered by a high root, observed the
larger portion of them moving away to the left, evidently with the
intention of surrounding the tree which now afforded them shelter.
"The cunning redskins think they have us in a trap," he said; "but the
tree will still serve our purpose and those who approach will pay dear
for their boldness."
The Indians, however, still kept at a distance, though he caught sight
of them moving round the clumps of trees towards the east. He and
Fenton stood ready with their pieces to pick off the first who should
venture near enough to be reached. At length they appeared, advancing
under such shelter as the trees afforded, each Indian with an arrow in
his bow ready to shoot.
"Now," cried Gilbert, "my piece covers one of their chief men; have you
marked another?"
The Indians at that instant set up one of those fearful yells which they
use to intimidate their foes. It was replied to by a cheer which could
come from none but British throats.
"Stay," cried Captain Audley, "we shall be saved without firing a shot:
here come our friends."
The Indians heard the cheer, and casting their eyes down the stream,
instantly sprang back to regain the shelter they had just quitted. A
few shots were heard fired among the trees, which considerably hastened
their flight, though none were hit, and long before the boat pulling
against the current could reach the tree, every Indian on that side had
disappeared, while the rest were seen retreating at full speed towards
the hill over which they had come. Captain Audley and his companions
now hastened on to meet the boat. The first person who sprang on shore
was Vaughan, who knew him even before Gilbert had time to shout, "Here
is our father!"
They were all quickly on board, for though some proposed following the
Indians, Captain Audley urged them to spare those who could no longer
injure them, and might, he hoped, with proper treatment become their
friends. Having greeted Roger and Oliver, and thanked them and their
followers for the exertions they had made to rescue him, he proposed
that they should forthwith descend the river and get speedily on board
the _Rainbow_. He explained that Wamsutah had willingly released him on
his promise to send back a ransom. Having stopped for a brief space of
time to bid farewell to Oncagua, promising him also a present to console
him for the loss of Virginia, they continued their voyage down the
river, the rapids, under Ben's pilotage, being passed in safety.
As may be supposed, they received a warm greeting from Captain Layton,
who declared that the satisfaction he felt at the recovery of his old
friend was the greatest he had ever enjoyed. The _Rainbow_ was
immediately got under weigh, and without the loss of a single member of
her crew, and with the recovered ones on board, in addition to the young
maiden, she returned to James Town.