A STARTLING DISCOVERY.
“What in the name of the holy tortures does this all mean?” yelled
Old Tumult, as he knelt by the prostrate form of the man, while Town.
Farnesworth knelt by the woman.
The scout bent low and gazed into the face of the man.
A shout, that rolled through the forest aisles like a peal of
thunder, burst from his lips. He recognized the face of the man.
It was that of Dick Sherwood!
The old scout communicated his discovery to Town., and then asked:
“Who’ve you got thar, Town.?”
A groan burst from the young man’s lips and he started up.
“What’s up, what’s up?” questioned the scout.
“Oh, God! my eyes deceive me, Tumult!” he cried, “or else that is the
face of Madge Taft.”
“Holy smoke o’ torture!” burst from Tumult’s lips, as he knelt by the
motionless form of the woman, and gazed into her face. “Yes, yes; it
is the trader’s gal, but she is not dead.”
A moan of pain from the woman’s lips verified his assertion.
“Water, Tumult, water!” cried Town.; “let us save her, if we can.”
“It is no use, Town.; nothing can save me.”
It was the woman who spoke, in a feeble, smothered tone, as she
nervously clutched at her throbbing brow.
“My God, Madge! is this reality, or some horrible vision?” cried
Town., dropping on his knees beside her, and raising her head from
the hard stone and pillowing it upon his breast.
“Yes, Town.--but save her--save Clara! It was she that he threw over
the cliff!--save her, for she loves you!”
“The chief will save her; rest easy--”
“The _chief_!” she interrupted, with almost a shriek.
“Yes; Mahaska, the Sioux chief,” replied Town.
“Ah!” she sighed, painfully, “that accounts for our defeat.”
“Your defeat? what do you mean, dear Madge?”
“Oh, Town., I have been such a wicked woman--I have plotted deeply
and darkly against you and Clara. I won your affections from her, and
yet I was a married woman--the lawful wife of--”
The name was lost in a moan of pain, and Town. felt a repulsive flush
mount to his face.
He would have shrunk away from her as from an adder, had he not
remembered that she was dying--dying so young, so beautiful, so
wicked, so false-hearted.
There was a momentary silence which was broken by the dying woman’s
voice:
“Town.,” she said, “although I have been your worst enemy, I want to
ask one request of you.”
“Name it,” said Town., “and it shall be granted.”
“Then after I am dead, I want you to convey my body and the body of
Dick Sherwood to the cabin of Talbott Taft.”
“It shall be done, I promise you,” said Town.; “but, what is Dick
Sherwood to you, Madge?”
“Town., I am dying fast. I have but few minutes to live. I would tell
you all about my life and the deep, dark game of sin and treachery
in which I have been engaged, could I live long enough. But when you
convey my lifeless body and that of Dick Sherwood to the cabin of the
Indian trader, he will tell you--tell you all. Oh, if I only knew
that Clara escaped.”
At this juncture the quick, heavy tread of moccasined feet was heard
approaching, and the next moment Mahaska drew near with the dripping
form of Clara Bryant in his arms.
“Is she dead, chief?” asked Old Tumult.
“No,” responded the chief, “but she is unconscious.”
“Thank God!” cried Town.; then bending low to the dying woman, he
said:
“She lives, Madge.”
The woman made no reply, but there was a rattling in her throat--a
convulsive stiffening of the limbs and body. Then there was a
relaxing of the muscles, that told of the separation of the soul and
body--that Madge Taft was dead.
Town. laid the lifeless body gently down, and then went and assisted
Old Tumult and Mahaska in restoring Clara to life.
The fall and the effects of the water together had proven a terrible
shock to the maiden, and for awhile her life was despaired of. But,
at last, she began to recover.
By this time all of Mahaska’s warriors had gathered at the lake ready
for work, but in consequence of the escape of the captives, the
attack was postponed.
As Clara would be unable to travel before morning, dispositions were
made for passing the night by the lake, Mahaska and his warriors
taking the safety of the party into their own hands.
The night passed miserably enough to the whites, and it was a great
relief to their minds when morning dawned bright and pleasant.
Breakfasting on roasted venison, the party was soon ready for
departure.
Mahaska and some of his warriors were to accompany the whites to
Clontarf’s Post, and to them were given the two bodies for conveyance
to the trader’s cabin.
Town. gave his attention to Clara Bryant, who, after all, he
discovered he loved, though he was almost ashamed to admit it, even
to himself, since he had acted so unfaithful toward her in his
fancied love for the fascinating and wicked Madge Taft.
When all were ready for starting, Town. drew the maiden’s arm within
his own and set off in advance. He did not tell her of the fate of
Sherwood and Madge, as she had been kept beyond sight of the bodies
while at the lake; but, while moving along through the woods, she
happened to glance back and saw the savages in the rear of the
procession bearing something upon litters. This aroused her curiosity
and she inquired of Town. what it meant.
Town. gently broke to her the news of the death of Sherwood and Madge.
“Thank God, I am free then!”
The words burst involuntarily from Clara’s lips, and they were no
sooner spoken than she seemed to have regretted their utterance.
“Why, yes, Clara,” laughed Town., “you are free. Did you think I was
Sherwood?”
Clara smiled as she raised her eyes and gazed into Town.’s face.
“No, Town.,” she replied, “I had reference to something else. I will
tell you what it is another time.”
Town. was a little mystified, still he was too thoughtful of her
wishes to insist on an explanation, and so he said nothing more on
the subject.
It was past noon when the cabin of Talbott Taft was reached. They
found the old trader at home in a state of great excitement,
occasioned, he said, by the absence of his daughter.
Town. told him that he had bad news for him, and proceeded to break
it to him as gently as possible.
A wail burst from the old man’s lips, and staggering he sunk heavily
into a chair.
In a few moments the savages bearing the litters filed into the cabin
and placed the bodies before the old man, who fell upon his knees and
wept bitterly over the body of Madge.
Our friends and the savages went out into the yard and left the
mourner alone with his dead, and when his lamentations had ceased,
Old Tumult went back to the door and asked:
“Is thar enny thing, Mr. Taft, that we kin do fur you?”
A wail of sorrow burst anew from the trader’s lips and it was several
moments before he gained calmness to reply.
“Nothing, Tumult, nothing, unless you help me to bury my dead.”
“That we’ll do,” returned the scout; “you have only to command us.”
“A grave will have to be dug, and--”
Here his voice broke down, and he sobbed bitterly.
Old Tumult went out, and with the assistance of Town. and Mahaska,
hollowed out two graves in the shadow of an oak that stood in front
of the cabin.
The bodies were then wrapped in blankets and carried out and laid in
the graves, and covered from the view of the world forever.
The old trader wept and moaned as though his heart would break, and
when our friends had announced their intention of departing for the
post, he called Old Tumult and Town. aside and said:
“Tumult, I want you and Town. to come here to-morrow morning. Will
you promise me that you will?”
“We will,” responded the two, in a breath.
“Do not fail. I have something to reveal to you--something that may
be of interest to you both. I wish to show you the reward of the
wicked and the wages of sin.”
“We will come without fail,” said Old Tumult.
And so the whites and the Sioux took their departure from the cabin,
and Talbott Taft was left alone to weep and mourn.