So sudden, so unexpected, so astounding was the crash of Seth’s
tomahawk through the head of the doomed savage, that, for a moment
after, not an Indian moved or spoke. The head was nearly cleft in twain
(for an arm fired by consuming passion had driven it), and the brains
were spattered over numbers of those seated around. Seth himself stood
a second, as if to satisfy himself that the work was complete, when
he turned, walked to his seat, sat down, coolly folded his arms, and
_commenced whistling_!
A second after, nearly every savage drew a deep breath, as if a load
had been removed from his heart; then each looked at his neighbor,
and in the scowling, ridged brows, the glittering eyes, the distorted
visages, the strained breathing through the set teeth, could be read
the fearful intention. Every face but that of the chieftain’s, was
livid with fury. He alone sat perfectly unagitated. Three Indians
arose, and, grasping their knives, stood before him waiting for the
expected words.
“Touch him not,” said he, with a shake of the head; “him, no right
here.”
As the chief spoke, he tapped his forehead significantly with his
finger, meaning that the prisoner was demented. The others believed the
same, still it was hard to quell the pent-up fire which was scorching
their breasts. But his word was law inviolate, and without a murmur,
they seated themselves upon the ground again.
Seth, although his eye appeared vacant and unmeaning, had noted all
these movements with the keenness of the eagle. He knew that a word or
sign from the chief would be sufficient to hack him into a thousand
pieces. When he stood before his inhuman tormentor, with the keen
tomahawk in his hand, the certainty of instant death or prolonged
torture would not have prevented him taking the savage vengeance he
did. Now that it was over, he was himself again. His natural feelings
came back, and with it the natural desire for life. The words of the
chief convinced him that he was regarded as either insane or idiotic,
and consequently as not deserving death. Still, although saved for the
present, he ever stood in imminent peril. The fallen savage had living
friends, who would seize the first opportunity to avenge his death. At
any rate, let matters stand as they might, Seth felt that he was in
hot quarters, and the safest course was to get out of them as soon as
possible.
It was perhaps ten minutes after the horrid deed, that the savages
commenced bestirring themselves. Several arose and carried their
comrade to one side, while the others commenced preparations for taking
up the day’s march. At this moment, the runners who had pursued Graham
to the water’s edge, returned, and the tragical occurrence was soon
made known to them. A perfect battery of deadly gleaming eyes was
opened upon Seth, but he stood it unflinchingly. The Indians would
have relished well the idea of venting their baffled vengeance upon
the helpless captive in their hands; but the commanding presence of
their chief restrained the slightest demonstration, and they contented
themselves with meaning looks.
One thing did not escape Seth’s notice from the first, and it was an
occasion of wonder and speculation to him. Nothing could be seen of
Ina. In fact, the appearance of things was such as to lead one to
believe that the savages knew nothing of her. Could it be that he and
Graham had been mistaken in the party? Could some other tribe have
made off with her? Or, had they separated, and taken her in an other
direction? As he ruminated upon these questions, he became convinced
that the last suggested the certain answer. They could not have
mistaken the party, as they had never lost sight of the trail since
taking it; and, moreover, he had noticed several slight occurrences,
since his advent among them, that satisfied him, beyond a doubt, of the
identity of the party with the one which had descended upon the home of
the woodman. From the caution which the aggressors evidenced in their
flight, together with the haste in which it had been conducted; it was
plain they had some fears of pursuit; and to guard their treasure,
a number had left them at a favorable point, intending to join the
main body where pursuit was not to be expected, or where the pursuers
had been sufficiently misled to warrant it. As he reflected, Seth
was satisfied that this was the only and the true explanation of her
non-appearance at this time.
The preparations were soon completed, and the Indians commenced moving
forward. If Seth had entertained any doubts of their intentions
relating to him, they were soon dispelled by his experience. It was
not at all likely that he would be reserved as a prisoner, unless they
intended to put him to some use. Accordingly, he found himself loaded
down with an enormous burden, consisting mostly of food, in the shape
of deer’s meat, which the savages had brought with them. They buried
their fallen comrade, without the ceremony and mourning which might be
expected. The North American Indian rarely gives way to his emotions,
except upon such occasions as the burial of one of their number, a
“war dance,” or something similar, when the whole nest of devilish
passions is allowed free vent. They indulged in no such ceremonies--if
ceremonies they may be called--at this time. A comparatively shallow
grave was dug, and into this the fallen one was placed in an upright
position, his face turned toward the east. His rifle, knives, and all
his clothing were buried with him.
The day was a suffocating one in August, and Seth’s sufferings were
truly great. He was naturally lithe, wiry, and capable of enduring
prolonged exertion; but, unfortunately for him, the savages had become
aware of this and had loaded him accordingly. Most of the journey was
through the forest, where the arching tree-tops, shut out the withering
rays of the sun. Had they encountered any such open plains, as the one
passed over, near their encampment, Seth would have never lived to
survive it. As it was, his load nearly made him insensible to pain. A
consuming thirst was ever tormenting him, although he found abundant
means to slake it in the numberless rills which gurgled through the
wilderness.
“How Yankee like it?” grinned a savage, by his side, stooping and
peering fiendishly into his face.
“First rate; goes nice. Say, you, s’posen you try it?”
“Ugh! walk faster,” and a whack accompanied the word.
“Now, I cac’late I’m going to walk just about as fast as I darned
please, and if you ain’t a mind to wait, you can heave ahead. Fact, by
gracious.”
And Seth did not increase his steps in the least. Toward noon, he found
he should be obliged to have a short rest or give out entirely. He knew
it would be useless to ask, and consequently he determined to take it
without asking. So, unloosing the cords which bound the pack to his
back, he let it fall to the ground, and, seating himself upon it, again
went to whistling!
“Go faster, Yankee--you no keep up,” exclaimed one, giving him a
stunning blow.
“See here, you, p’raps you don’t know who it mought be you insulted in
that way. I’m Seth Jones, from New Hampshire, and consequently you’ll
be keerful of tetching me.”
The savage addressed, was upon the point of striking him insolently to
the earth, when the chieftain interfered.
“No touch pale face--him tired--rest a little.”
Some unaccountable whim had possessed the savage, as this mercy was
entirely unexpected by Seth, and he knew not how to account for it,
unless it might be he was reserving him for some horrible torture.
The resting spell was but a breathing moment, however, and just as
Seth had begun to really enjoy it, the chieftain gave orders for the
replacement of the load. Seth felt disposed to tamper awhile, for the
sake of prolonging his enjoyment, but, on second thought, concluded it
the better plan not to cross the chief who had been so lenient to him
thus far. So, with a considerable number of original remarks, and much
disputation about the placing of the burden, he shouldered it at last
and trudged forward.
* * * * *
Seth was right in his conjectures about Ina. Toward the latter part of
the day, the three Indians who had been pursued by our other friends,
rejoined the main party, bearing her with them. She noticed her
companion in captivity at once, but no communication passed between
them. A look of melancholy relief escaped her as she became assured
that her parents were still safe, and that only she and her new friend
were left to the sufferings and horrors of captivity. But there was
enough in this to damp even such a young and hopeful spirit as was
hers. Not death alone, but a fate from the sensuous captors, far worse
than death itself, was to be apprehended. In the future, there was but
one Hand that could sustain and safely deliver them, and to that One
she looked for deliverance.