The village of the Mohawks was at a considerable distance from the
spot where had once stood the home of the woodman--and encumbered as
they were with plunder, their progress was necessarily slow; besides,
knowing full well that pursuit would be useless upon the part of the
whites, there was no occasion to hasten their steps. When, however,
Seth Jones’ unceremonious entrance among them, together with the escape
of his new companion, and the subsequent report of the smaller party
with Ina, was made known, the old chief began to have some misgiving
about his fancied security. It occurred to him that there might be a
large party of whites upon the trail, and in such a case, his greatest
skill was required to retain the captives. And here was the trouble.
If he was pursued--and upon that point there could be no doubt--his
progress must be hastened. His pursuers would follow with the swiftness
of vengeance. With the plunder in their possession, the thing was
impossible, and he saw, at length, that stratagem must be resorted to.
He selected six of his bravest and fleetest warriors--two of whom had
been Graham’s most troublesome enemies in his fearful chase--and placed
Ina in their charge, with instructions to make all haste to the Indian
village. Before starting, it occurred to him that the best plan would
be to send the white man also with them. Were he to remain with the
larger party in case of attack, his presence, he had reason to fear,
would be their own destruction, while six savages surely armed and ever
vigilant, could surely guard an unarmed idiot and a woman.
The chief as stated, was well satisfied that he was pursued. Hence, if
he could throw his pursuers off the scent, their discomfiture would be
certain. He believed this could be done. How well he succeeded, has
already been shown. The six savages with their charge parted from the
larger company, and struck off rapidly in a direction diverging to the
north. Their trail was so concealed as to give the impression that
there were but three of them, and this deception we have seen misled
the hunter. A piece of Ina’s dress was purposely lodged upon a bush,
in the rear of the larger party; and promiscuously and hopefully, the
chief leisurely continued his way with his dusky followers.
After the parties had parted company, the smaller one hastened rapidly
forward. Ina, in charge of a stalwart, athletic Indian was kept to
the front, the more effectually to conceal her trail, while Seth kept
his position near the centre of the file. He was allowed the free use
of his hands, though, as has been remarked, he was deprived of his
weapons. As they journeyed hastily forward, he made it a point to
enlighten them as much as possible by his conversation, and certainly
original remarks.
“If you have no objection, I wouldn’t mind knowing your idea in thus
leaving the other Injins, eh?” he remarked, quizzically of the savage
in front. No reply being given, he continued:
“I s’pose you’re thinking about that house you burnt down, and feeling
bad--Oh, you ain’t, eh?” suddenly remarked Seth, as the Indian glared
fiercely at him.
“It was a bad trick, I allow,” he continued, “enough to make a feller
mad, I swow. That house, I shouldn’t wonder now, took that Haverland a
week to finish; ’twas an ugly piece of business--yes, sir.”
At intervals, the savages exchanged a word with each other, and once or
twice, one of them took the back trail, evidently to ascertain whether
they had any pursuers. Finding they had not, they slackened their speed
somewhat, as Ina had given signs of fatigue, and they believed there
was really no occasion for hastening. But the weariness which the fair
captive had endured, so increased, that long before the sun had reached
its meridian, they halted for a half-hour’s rest. This was at the
crossing of a small, sparkling stream. As the sun was now quite hot,
and the atmosphere thick and heavy, the rest in the cool shadows of the
trees was doubly refreshing. Ina seated herself upon the cool moist
earth, her captors preserving, singularly enough, a far more vigilant
watch over her than over Seth Jones; but, for that matter, the latter
was allowed no very special freedom. A couple of Indians again took the
back-trail for prudent reasons, but met with nothing to excite their
apprehensions.
In the mean time, Seth continued tumbling over the ground, occasionally
giving vent to snatches of song, and now and then a sage remark.
Without being noticed, he picked a small chalky pebble from the margin
of the brook, and working his way to a large flat stone, executed,
with many flourishes, the writing to which we referred in a preceding
chapter. Although cleverly done, this latter act did not escape the
eyes of the suspicious savages. One immediately arose, and walking to
him, pointed down and gruffly asked:
“What, that?”
“Read it fur yourself,” replied Seth innocently.
“What, that?” repeated the savage, menacingly.
“A little flourishing I was executing, jist to pass away time.”
“Ugh!” grunted the Indian, and dipping his big foot in the brook, he
irreverently swept it across the stone, completely wiping out Seth’s
beautiful chirography.
“Much obliged,” said the latter, “saved me the trouble. I can write on
it again when it gits dry.”
But no opportunity was given, as a moment after the scouts returned,
and the line of march was taken up. But Seth well knew he had
accomplished all that could be desired. He had taken particular pains
that the pebble should be flinty enough to scratch into the soft stone
every word that he wrote. Consequently, the party had not been gone a
half-hour, when every letter came but as clear and distinct as before,
despite the wet daub the indignant savage had given it.
Their progress for a time was quite rapid. Seth, somehow or other, was
constantly pitching out of file, breaking down the twigs along the way,
stumbling against the stones which were not in the way, and, in spite
of the menaces and occasional blows of his captors, making the trail
unnecessarily distinct and plain.
At noon, another halt was made, and all partook of some food. Ina was
sick at heart, and ate but a mouthful. An apprehension of her dreadful
position came over her, and her soul reeled as she began picturing what
was yet to come. Seth quarreled with two of his captors, because, he
affirmed, they took more than their share of the dinner; and, take it
all in all, affairs were getting into as interesting a state as one
could well conceive.
The meal finished, they again set forward. From the whispered
consultation of the savages, as well as the words which reached Seth’s
ears, and their utter disregard of Ina’s painful fatigue, he began
to believe that the Indians suspected that their stratagem had not
misled their pursuers, and were apprehensive of pursuit. Finally, Seth
became satisfied that such was the case, and when they halted toward
the middle of the afternoon, he again gave vent to his thoughts upon a
friendly stone which offered itself, and this, again, received a fierce
wipe from the foot of the same savage, and the words again came out to
view, and accomplished all that their ardent author could have desired.
These acts of Seth, settled the suspicions of his captors into a
certainty, and a closer surveillance was kept upon their refractory
captive. No further opportunities were given him, and as he himself had
expected this turn of matters, there was need for it upon his part.
Although he had little reason to hope it, he did hope and believe that
Haverland and Graham were upon the trail, and he felt that if the words
intended for their eyes could only reach them, the fate of Ina and
himself was determined.
The moon being at its full, and shining in unclouded splendor upon
the forest, so lightened the way that the savages continued their
flight--as it may now be well called--for an hour or two in the
evening. They would have probably gone farther, had it not been
painfully evident that Ina was ready to give out. The old chief had
given them imperative commands not to hasten her too much, and to rest
when they saw she needed it. Accordingly, though they were brutal
enough to insult her with menaces, they were of no avail, and, finally,
they came to a reluctant halt for the night.
It will be necessary to understand the situation of these savages and
their captives, in order to comprehend the events that followed.
A fire was started, and just within the circle of this, half-reclining
upon the ground was Ina, with a heavy Indian shawl thrown around her.
She had partaken of none of the food offered, and was already in a
semi-conscious state. On either side of her was seated a vigilant
savage, well armed and prepared for any emergency. Upon the opposite
side was Seth, his feet firmly lashed together, while his hands were
free. Two Indians were upon his right, and one upon his left. The
remaining one took his station about a hundred yards on the back-trail.
Here, lying flat on his face, he silently waited for the approach of
the enemy.