Moccasin Tracks in the Sand—Cahoonshee at the Climbing
Tree—Indian Craft and White Man’s Cunning. Cahoonshee at the
Stake—Quick to the Rescue.
We left Amy and Drake at the house of the elder Quick, on the banks of
the river at Milford. They now understood themselves and each other. By
degrees Amy’s sadness wore away, and she became lively and cheerful.
When an opportunity offered, she went with Drake on hunting and fishing
excursions, and learned to use the rifle with the dexterity of an old
hunter. Like most of her sex, she was fond of dress, and chose the most
gaudy colors for her attire.
The trapping season had now arrived, and the parties went back to the
Shinglekill.
Cahoonshee and Quick had not met for several months.
I fear, said Cahoonshee, that there will be trouble between our
neighbors, the Delawares, and the Salamanques.
Why? asked Quick.
I saw on the banks of the Mongaup, to-day, the print of a moccasin that
plainly told me what tribe they belonged to.
Sly dogs, those Salamanques. They wiped out the Cahoonshees, replied
Quick.
And we must assist the Delawares to wipe them out now.
How?
Find out what they intend to do, and then act accordingly. I think their
advance lie concealed in the bowl. (A hollow on the Pennsylvania side of
the river opposite Mongaup.)
Follow me, and we will soon know.
The parties threw their guns over their shoulders, and started for the
Hawk Nest.
Seating themselves on the pinnacle, Cahoonshee pointed up the river.
Does my brother see that tall pine standing on the edge of the rocks,
with dead limbs in the top? A few feet from the top of that tree is the
bowl. In that bowl lie concealed the destroyers of my race. Brother, do
you see the smothered smoke that arises from their Council fires? I must
hear their plans.
Yes, and lose your life in the adventure, said Quick.
Possibly yes—probably no. But they must be circumvented. Follow me.
They both started down the rocks, and reaching the river, stepped into a
canoe, and paddled for the Climbing Tree. (See Appendix.)
[Illustration: CLIMBING TREE]
It was now dark. Quick paddled the canoe through the still waters of Long
Track, through Butler’s Falls, and entered Mongaup Eddy, and continued
until they were opposite the Climbing Tree.
Not a word had been spoken. Cahoonshee stepped out of the canoe, and as
he did so whispered in his companion’s ear:
Watch, and remain silent! and then disappeared in the impenetrable
darkness.
Cahoonshee climbed the tree and came in full view of the Salamanques.
They had gathered there in large numbers, and had with them their squaws
and papooses. The fire at which the Chiefs sat was within a few feet of
where Cahoonshee stood, and he could hear what they said as easily as if
he had sat in their midst. It was mid-night when the Council broke up.
Cahoonshee returned to the river.
Don’t use a paddle. Let the canoe float. These rocks have ears.
Not a word was spoken. Cahoonshee sat with his head in his hands,
thinking of the past and meditating on the future.
Brother, said Cahoonshee, a plot is laid to destroy the Delawares. If the
Salamanques succeed, there will not be one left to tell the tale. But it
must not be. The white man’s reason and the red man’s cunning must thwart
their plans.
And have you a plan?
I have one that will wipe the Salamanques from the face of the earth.
Can I assist you brother?
Yes. Day after to-morrow the blow is to be struck. The Delawares must be
notified and prepared, not only to defend themselves, but to annihilate
their foes. To-night I will visit the Delawares. To-morrow, you and the
boys go to the round, white rock on Mount William. Carry with you all the
strings that you can make from bear, deer and eel skins. Prepare a large
quantity of pine knots, and I will meet you there at sun-down to-morrow.
Cahoonshee stepped into his canoe and noiselessly drifted down the river,
and just as the silver streak of morning began to appear, he landed at
the village of the Delawares, at the angle of the Neversink and Delaware
rivers.
He immediately proceeded to the wigwam of the Chief. Early as it was, the
Chief was up, and sat at the door smoking. Hawk Eye, for such was the
Chief’s name, heard a rustling in the bushes, and looking up, saw the
towering form of Cahoonshee approaching.
Good morning, brother; I knew that you were coming.
How knew you that? But one knew of my visit here, and he did not know my
motive.
Say not so, my brother. The Great Spirit knows all, and He tells Hawk Eye
in a dream.
What did the Great Spirit say?
The Great Spirit tell me in a dream that Cahoonshee had a revelation for
me, and I arose early to meet you.
It is well. I am here with news, not from Heaven, but from the
Salamanques.
May the Great Spirit protect us then. We can die like our fathers!
exclaimed Hawk Eye.
Yes, and fight like your fathers, rejoined Cahoonshee.
Hawk Eye cast his eyes to the ground and meditated for a moment and said:
We are feeble and count by the hundred. They are strong and count by the
thousand. What the Cahoonshees now are we soon will be.
What mean you, brother?
I mean, replied the Chief, that the Cahoonshees once lived on these
lands, hunted through these hills and fished in these streams. Not so
now. Their bodies lie in the earth. Their scalps dangle in the lodges of
the Salamanques. One, and only one, is left.
Will the Delawares act like squaws and let the Salamanques take their
scalps?
If it is the will of the Great Spirit.
It is not the will of the Great Spirit.
Has Cahoonshee a sign?
Yes, and you shall see it.
When, and where? brother.
To-morrow, replied Cahoonshee. When you hear the first war-whoop, look
to the north-west, and you will see a ball of fire fall from Heaven and
strike the earth, and run from Mount William to the Delaware river. That
is the sign. The Great Spirit has decreed it. To-morrow Cahoonshee will
have his revenge. To-morrow the Salamanques go on the war-path for the
last time. To-morrow the rivers will run with blood. Hear me Hawk Eye!
The Salamanques are in every ambush between here and Lackawaxen. They are
well prepared with canoes and rafts. At the rise of the moon to-night
they will float down the river. Their main force will land at the brook
just above you. Their younger braves will pass by and return up the
Mahackamack (Neversink) to your rear. Those at the brook will set the
woods on fire on the south side of the brook, and as the smoke is seen
to rise above the trees, the warriors on the Neversink will rush on your
village.
Not one of us can escape, mournfully exclaimed Hawk Eye.
You shall all escape. But the Salamanques shall roast in their own fire.
Cahoonshee wise. Learned from the white man. Tell Hawk Eye what to do?
That is what I am here for. Send the women, children and aged to the
Holicot Glen, above Peanpack. Send a part of your forces on the east
side of the Neversink, and the rest of them on the west side of the
Delaware. When the ball of fire I have spoken of shall roll along from
Mount William to the river, then let your braves advance. The Salamanques
cannot escape. They will be between two fires, one on their east, and one
on their west. Then let your braves advance. They will be between two
fires, and your braves in their front.
It shall be as you say, replied Hawk Eye.
’Tis well. Watch for the ball of fire! and Cahoonshee passed out of sight.
At this time the angle of land lying between the Delaware and Neversink
rivers on which the City of Port Jervis now stands was one tangled
forest, in the centre of which was located the camping grounds of the
Delawares. The banks of the river were studded with lofty white pine
trees, whose tops reached far toward the Heavens. On the south side of
the brook, the majestic willow towered Heavenward, with their branches
bending to and taken root in the earth. Through these willows the wild
grape vine had twined and laced itself, its creeping branches forming a
barrier to man and beast, but fuel for the elements.
The Delawares had moved their effects, women and children to the Holicot
Glen, and placed their forces on the opposite side of the two rivers,
retaining sufficient numbers at their forsaken village to keep the camp
fires blazing through the night.
In the meantime, the Salamanques had marshalled their forces, and when
the earth became enshrouded in the mantle of night, they embarked on
board of canoes and rafts and silently floated down the river, and before
the break of day had safely landed north of the Spring Brook, with their
women and children. A part of their warriors went by the way of the
Tri-States Rock, then up the Neversink, as they supposed, in the rear of
the Delawares.
When Cahoonshee left Hawk Eye, he went immediately to the white rock, at
Mount William. There he found Drake, the two Quick and Rolla. They had
prepared a large quantity of pine knots, and the preparation for the ball
of fire was commenced. The white rock lay on a flat stone, requiring but
little effort to move it. Around this stone, pine knots were securely
bound, with strings cut from deer and bear skins.
Such was the preparation and situation of the contending parties on the
morning of the memorable Battle of the Neversink. The sun rose over the
eastern hills in all its glory. The wind blew from the north-west, as if
to aid the Salamanques in the work of death. The torch is applied to the
thick underbrush at the brook. The smoke rises above the tree tops. The
war-whoop is sounded on the Neversink, and the Indian braves rush forward
in their anticipated work of slaughter.
I have my revenge! exclaimed Cahoonshee, jumping on the lever that
started the rock.
From rock to rock—from cliff to cliff, the fiery mass descended, tearing
its way through the wood, brush and trees, throwing off its death dealing
fire, and landed in the cool waters of the Delaware. In its trail, flames
burst forth that ascended to the tree tops.
The Salamanques were enclosed on two sides by fire, and cut off from
retreat by the Neversink and Delaware rivers on the other side. Then
a rush is made for the river, but the Delawares have their ambush on
the Pennsylvania side, and by a deadly fire, drive them back. Then a
rush is made for the Pine Grove, thinking there was safety in climbing
to the uppermost boughs. Men, women and children uttering oaths and
imprecations, dash forward. Deep into the lurid waves of fire made by the
whirl of glowing smoke, they rushed madly on—tearing at each other like
wild beasts, and smothering their yells beneath the luminous element.
The poor wretches who were to die sought the darkest spots; and hid
behind clumps of stone, stumps and bushes, or crept under torn masses
of wild vines, panting with terror and dread, and trying to hold the
very breath that threatened to destroy them. The Pine Grove is reached.
Madly they climb to the highest bough. The aged warrior ascends with the
agility of youth. The mother with her babe lashed to her back, and the
youth springing from bough to bough, like squirrels. Thus, they spring
from bough to bough, until the trees are loaded down with human freight.
But the fire rolls on. The cracking of brush—the yells of the victims,
and the fall of the timber, creates a smothering, rolling, thundering
sound. The fire leaps from bush to bush—from tree to tree, until the Pine
Grove is reached. Rosin on the trees take fire, and a sheet of flame
reaches the upmost bough. The very elements are on fire. One by one they
drop into the surging flames below—roasted, blackened, withered corpses.
Their friends on the Neversink fare no better. When the smoke was seen
above the tree tops, they advanced, thinking to drive the Delawares back
into the fire, or mercilessly dispatch them with the tomahawk. But they
found no enemy. And while they were wondering what had become of them,
they saw a ball of fire pass like a dart of lightning from heaven to
earth, and heard the shrieks of their friends in the midst of it. Then
confusion and disorder ensued, and they retreated back to the Neversink.
As they reached the river, they were met by the Delawares, who received
them with a deadly fire, which caused many of them to bite the earth.
But the fire was upon them. It was either drown or burn. They choose the
former, and rushed for the river. This became their burial place, and
their bodies became food for the fishes.
As they poured over the bank, the cool and collected Delawares dispatched
them with the tomahawk and scalping knife, and the crystal waters of the
Neversink were colored with blood.
The victory was complete. Nearly all that had so silently floated down
the river the night before, were now locked in the cold embrace of
death, and as the sun set in the western horizon, and the earth became
enshrouded in the mantle of night, death reigned in silence.
While the conflagration was going on, and while the flames, like forked
arrows were hissing through the branches of the trees, and amid the
groans of the wounded, burning and dying, which could be heard above
the crackling of the falling wood, the tall, erect form of Cahoonshee
appeared in the front ground, on the highest pinnacle of Point Peter,
with Rolla standing by his side. Feelings of satisfaction and regret
occupied his mind. Satisfaction that the murderers of his fathers were
punished. Regret that the white man would seize upon this opportunity to
appropriate the land to themselves.
The smoke lifted for a moment, and looking toward Mount William, he saw
the forms of five dusky Salamanques crouching in the brush.
It is finished, he said. My time has come. But I will not die by the
hands of the Salamanques. I will throw myself from these rocks, and be
buried by my friends, the Delawares.
You die by the fagot—not by the fall! exclaimed a voice behind him.
Turning, he saw three tomahawks raised. To advance or retreat was
impossible.
I am yours, exclaimed Cahoonshee. Do your pleasure.
It is no pleasure to kill a dog—a coward!
Coward! ejaculated Cahoonshee.
Yes—a faint hearted woman, afraid to meet death like your fathers. You
were about to meet death by throwing yourself from the rocks to save
being tortured by fire.
Cahoonshee keenly felt the reproach.
I rely on the Great Spirit, he said. If it is His will the fire will not
burn.
Did the Great Spirit kindle the fire that roasted my people?
Yes, through my agency he sent fire from the skies and consumed the
Salamanques. Do your worst. I have had my revenge. Years ago you
destroyed my tribe. Their bodies lay mouldering in yonder hill, and their
scalps hang in your lodges. I alone am left. Many suns have I seen rise.
You will see it rise but once more. At sun rise to-morrow, the Skull Rock
will be lit up, and Cahoonshee will die a coward at the stake.
Cahoonshee remained silent.
Is the great warrior dumb? asked the Chief.
Yes, when he talks to the Great Spirit. And stooping down, he picked up a
piece of slate stone and wrote upon it:
“Prisoner. To be burned at the stake at sun-rise to-morrow at Skull Rock.”
Take this (addressing the dog) to your Master.
The dog seized it and bounded down the rocks.
See, said the Chief, the dog is ashamed of the cowardly spirit of his
Master.
Cahoonshee’s hands were then tied behind him, and the march to Skull Rock
commenced. Their course was north-west until they reached Mongaup. Then
over the ridge to Fish Cabin Brook. Then up the cliff to Skull Rock.
This was the place where for years the Indians had tortured their
prisoners by burning them at the stake, and skulls were frequently found
on the ground. It was a high pinnacle rising several hundred feet above
the water of the Delaware, and the rocks hanging over the river. (See
Appendix.)
The Quicks and Drake, as soon as the fire ball started, returned to their
cabin on the Shinglekill, and viewed from the distance the fire and smoke
that ascended above the battle-field on the Neversink.
The sun had just set when Rolla came bounding in and dropped a stone at
Drake’s feet, and then whined as if in distress.
The dog means something, said the elder Quick.
In the meantime Drake had picked up the slate and was trying to decipher
the marks on it.
Here is something about the Skull Rock, but that is all I can make out.
That means that Cahoonshee is in trouble—perhaps a prisoner. Dry the
stone and you can read it better.
Drake held the stone to the fire, and then read: “Prisoner. To be burned
at the stake at sunrise, to-morrow at Skull Rock.”
Our friend is doomed, exclaimed Drake, can we do anything to free him?
That depends on how many Indians there are with him. We saw several
hundred go down the river but none have returned. If they go to the rock
in force we cannot help him. But they usually take but six or eight on
such occasions, and with my knowledge of the ground and the under ground
approach, I think we could rescue him.
Let us try, said Tom. I will take my chances. There is an under ground
approach to that place, known only to Cahoonshee and myself, said the
elder Quick. It will be several hours before sunrise and we have time to
get there and make our arrangements. Put new flints in your guns and fill
the knapsacks with provisions and ammunition.
It was now late in the evening. The night was clear, with full moon as
the parties started on their errand of mercy. They had about six miles
to travel to reach their destination. Their course lay along the north
bank of the river until they reached the foot of the cliff. Reaching that
point, Quick admonished the boys to be careful, as the least misstep
would throw them down the rocks. The ascent was almost perpendicular.
They climbed up rock after rock by clinging to the roots until they had
ascended two thirds of the mountain. Here was a projecting table rock on
which had grown a massive birch tree. And, under this was a fissure in
the rock that led to the top. The entrance to this fissure was directly
behind the birch tree, and was so small that it was difficult for a man
to creep through. From this point to the top there was a sudden rise of
five or six feet, which was about one hundred feet from the tree where
the victim was to be bound. Up through this narrow gulch the party
proceeded until the top is reached, the elder Quick taking the lead and
Rolla bringing up the rear. Daylight was just appearing, but it would be
an hour more before sunrise, and this left them time to perfect their
arrangements. This was, that each man should pick out his man and fire at
the same time. Then the two Quicks should rush out with their knives and
release Cahoonshee, leaving Drake and Rolla free to rush on the enemy.
A sharp lookout is kept in the direction that the enemy is expected. At
last their gaze was rewarded, nearly a half a mile off five Indians were
seen approaching with Cahoonshee in their midst. When within five hundred
feet, one of the Indians advanced and minutely examined the ground. Not
seeing anything to excite his suspicion, he signaled the rest of the
party and they advanced.
Cahoonshee was tied to a tree and wood piled around him, when the
chief addressed him:—Thus dies the white man’s friend, once the great
Cahoonshee, now a lying dog, a craven coward. Now call on the white man’s
God. Now see if he will save you.
Coward I may be, but liar I am not; I told the Delawares the truth and
they believed me.
What did you tell Delaware dogs?
I told them of your plan to destroy them. With all your cunning I heard
your plans at the climbing tree. You destroyed my Fathers, I helped
destroy your Nation. Do your worst, Salamanque; do your worst, you
may have my scalp to take to your village in the place of a thousand
warriors, now smoking in yonder fire. Cahoonshee has had his revenge.
Kindle your fire. Roast me alive. Ha! Ha! Ha!
The exasperated chief ordered the fire kindled. At that instant, Drake
gave the imitation of the tree toad, and three guns belched forth, and
three dusky Indians bit the earth in death. At the same instant, the two
Quicks sprang forward to release Cahoonshee. Rolla went for the fourth
Indian and soon had him by the throat. Drake made for the remaining one
with his knife. At the discharge of the guns the survivor seized his bow
and arrows and drew it on Drake. But Drake was so close to him that the
arrow flew over his head. But in so doing, he lost his knife. Then they
grappled in deadly combat and struggled toward the precipice that yawned
several hundred feet beneath them, each one exerting himself might and
main to throw the other over and save himself. The brink is reached, and
Drake hurled the Indian off, but his own momentum carried him off, and
they both disappeared in the abyss below.
Saved, exclaimed Tom as he sundered the last thong that bound Cahoonshee.
Yes, but at a fearful cost. A young life has gone out to save an old
wreck that nature will soon remove.
What mean you, Cahoonshee?
I mean that Drake has gone to the spirits-land. Did you not see him leap
from the cliff and follow the Indian in his downward flight?
So sudden had been the charge, and exciting the contest that the Quicks
had failed to see the fearful leap that Drake and the Indian had taken,
and for the moment were speechless.
There, said Cahoonshee, pointing to the highest point of the cliff, there
is where they went down and, now lays a mangled corpse at the bottom. But
we must find the body.
Just then Rolla set up a howl that echoed up and down the valley.
That means something, exclaimed Cahoonshee, go and see what the dog is
making such a noise about.
Tom crawled to the edge of the precipice and looked over. Some hundred
feet down he saw a dark object in a large birch tree.
What do you see, asked the elder Quick.
A man, replied Tom, but whether it is Drake or the Indian I cannot tell.
It is Drake, exclaimed Cahoonshee. The dog would have remained silent if
it had been the Indian. Speak, and see if he will answer you.
Just then Drake’s voice was heard deep down the mountain.
Hello, Drake, is that you?
Yes.
Are you hurt?
No, but I am wedged in the crotch of the tree and can’t get out.
Tom, tell him to remain quiet a few minutes and we will help him out,
said Cahoonshee.
Quick and Cahoonshee trimmed up a grape vine and lowered it down to
Drake. He tied it around his body and by the united strength of those on
the cliff, Drake was hauled to the top.
[Illustration: RESCUE OF DRAKE AT SKULL ROCK.]
Bravo boy! Bravo boy! exclaimed Cahoonshee, the great spirit is on your
side.
That may be, replied Drake, but if it had not been for you and the
grape-vine, I think I should have hung there until the crows had picked
my bones.
Say not that, said Cahoonshee, it was God’s plan to save you. He gave
instinct to the dog to smell you out. He gave growth and strength to the
vine to pull you up. And to us the common instincts of humanity to save
you.
But we must be going. We are not beyond danger yet. Let us return to the
Shinglekill and make arrangements for the future.
And leave the Indians unburied? said Drake.
Yes, leave them as they would have left us—for the wild beasts to pick
their bones. See, the vultures have already scented their carcases.
[Illustration: CAHOONSHEE AND HAWK EYE PLANNING THE DESTRUCTION OF THE
SALAMANQUES.]
The parties then wound their way down the rocks to the river, and from
there down the north back to the cabin on the Shinglekill. Cahoonshee
seemed to be down cast and despondent, sitting alone under the butternut
trees, with his body bent forward and his head clasped in his hands.
Drake watched him for some time, but was unable to discover his trouble,
when the words he heard him speak at the Skull Rock came to his mind—
“We are not out of danger yet!”
What troubles Cahoonshee? Is it the danger you spoke of at the Skull Rock?
Yes, in part. There is still danger of the Salamanques. They will hunt
me down. But there is another danger that threatens the lives of all
the white people between the Hudson and Delaware Rivers. I cannot tell
when the blow will be struck. It may be a month—it may be years. The
Indians feel their wrongs deeply. They see the whites increase and the
Indians diminish. They know that by falsehood and intrigue they have been
deprived of their land. They see from the Hudson on the east, to the
Delaware on west, and to Kingston on the north, the white man has taken
possession of the land and the Indian is being driven west. Both banks of
the Delaware from Milford to the Neversink are now dotted with the white
man’s house, and the lodge of the Indian has passed away. The Neversink
valley and the Peanpack flats are occupied by Hollanders and French, and
their cry is “Indian, go West.” The spirit of the Indian is broken, but
their religion remains the same. Revenge is a part of their religion.
Revenge they have resolved on, and a terrible revenge it will be. Before
many moons have passed a general uprising will take place from the Hudson
to the Lakes. Men, women and children will be killed and scalped, their
houses and barns burned, their property destroyed, their homes made
desolate, and all will be desolation and death. The Indian will have his
revenge and go west. The white man will follow. The Indian will turn
again, and the ravages of Indian warfare will be repeated.
And thus, for generation after generation, the war of races will go on
until the last red man is driven over the western slope and their bones
are buried in the Pacific. It is nature’s decree. The Indian must go. The
places that know them now, will soon know them no more forever.
To me and my people it will make no difference. They are gone and I
must follow them soon. I have but one wish to gratify. Let that wish be
gratified, and I can resign myself to the keeping of the great “I Am.”
Here Cahoonshee bowed his head again and remained silent.
What is it you wish to accomplish that seems to be as dear to you as life
itself? asked Drake.
I wish to find your parents. That accomplished, I can die with pleasure.
Drake, you have now arrived at the age of manhood, and unlike Tom, you
have employed your time in improving your mind. There are but few in
these colonies who are better qualified than you to enter upon active
life. You have been a dutiful son to me, and I have tried to be to you a
kind father. In the course of nature we must soon part, I to lay myself
down, you to enter upon the active duties of life. I have therefore
resolved to go in search of your parents and take you with me. We must
prepare at once, and day after to-morrow we must bid good-bye to the
Shinglekill and our friends. We will go first to Kingston, and then down
the Hudson to Manhattan. At one of these places I think that we will get
information that will lead us to find your father.
What reason have you for thinking that my father is to be found there?
asked Drake.
The mark on your breast is my guide. Undoubtedly the letters “C. D.”
represent your name. But whether it is Drake, Davis or Daniels, I don’t
know. The letters “E. N.” I am satisfied stands for English Navy.
Therefore, I expect to learn some thing about your father by inquiring on
board of the English war-ships.
But you have never said anything about this before.
I had my reason for that, and in time you will appreciate them. To-morrow
we must take up the bee tree, and the next day start on our journey.
Drake was at a loss to understand why Cahoonshee had come to such
a sudden conclusion. He could readily see why he should fear the
Salamanques, but he had not discovered anything to lead him to think
that there would be trouble between the whites and the Indians. Yet he
placed implicit confidence in what Cahoonshee said, and intended to
follow his advice. Yet to leave the Delaware Valley, and above all, to
leave Amy, cost him a pang.
That night it was arranged that the next day they would go and take up
the bee tree, and then the Quicks and Amy should return to the Milford
farm, and Cahoonshee and Drake should start for Kingston.