JIM GIRTY TRIUMPHS.
Jim Girty, the renegade, lowered fierce looks upon the hermit, as
the band marched toward the village, and once or twice his fingers
clutched his tomahawk, whose keen edge he would fain have buried in
the giant’s brain. But he dared not strike, for Hewitt was Tecumseh’s
prisoner, and he bided his time for vengeance.
When Tecumseh returned to his lodge, after the destructive,
mysterious shots, Girty effected a reconciliation with him, and was
released. The renegade at once entered into the plans of the chief
for the recapture of the whites, and led a band of braves to the
banks of the Scioto to cut off their escape in that direction. For
he knew that the hermit would never inhabit a cave without more than
one avenue of escape, and his belief was verified, as the reader has
witnessed.
Before departing on his mission, he had exacted from Tecumseh an oath
to the effect that Eudora, if recaptured, should not be delivered
over to the Wolf-Queen; but, on the contrary, should remain his
prisoner, as before.
On the confines of the Indian “town” great numbers of women and
children greeted the triumphant band, but Tecumseh would not permit a
single birch to be applied to the persons of his prisoners.
Straight to the council-house marched the august chief and an
imperative wave of the hand summoned the warriors to their accustomed
positions.
Alaska followed, but paused without the line of braves, and fixed her
eyes upon Tecumseh.
“The white-faces and the red traitor shall be tried at once,” said
the chief, striding to the center of the structure. “The Pale Flower
is White Chief’s prisoner. Now let Tecumseh’s chiefs speak.”
For a moment silence reigned, and then the renegade strode from his
position.
His baleful eyes flashed hatred upon the prisoners, who stood bound,
near the center post of the council-house, and his words sounded like
icy drops falling upon red-hot iron.
“The White Chief speaks for death,” he cried, “for death at the
stake! The pale-faces and the red-skinned traitor have slain two
of Tecumseh’s bravest chiefs. Shall they long escape the doom they
merit? I will claim my prisoner,” and he strode toward Eudora.
“Ha! girl!” he hissed, in her ear, as his great hand closed on her
delicate arm, “you never dreamed that I am in league with powers not
of earth. All the powers of heaven and hell can not baffle Jim Girty.
You are mine--mine--mine! That word is sweeter to me than wildwood
honey.”
“One word with her before we part,” said Mayne Fairfax, smothering
his rage, and stepping towards Eudora. “If God permits devils to
triumph, then we never meet again. Eudora--”
The captive turned, but ere Fairfax could execute another step nearer
her, Girty’s arm shot from his shoulder, and the young hunter went to
the earth like a stricken statue.
“There! weakling!” cried the brute, darting a fierce look upon his
fallen foe. “I’ll teach you how to interfere in other people’s
business. Lay still there, or I’ll kick you to pieces.”
And again grasping Eudora’s arm, he hurried her toward the further
end of the council-house.
The blow worked the hermit into a terrible passion, and had his hands
then been free, the renegade would have paid dearly for the insult.
Even mad Alaska did not witness the scene without emotion, for she
suddenly stooped and raised one of her wolves above her head. But
a look from Tecumseh, to whom she looked as though for authority,
subdued her passion, and the animal was returned to his companions.
After a while, Mayne Fairfax regained his senses, and drew himself to
his feet, by the aid of Hewitt’s garments.
“Oh, if I were free, boy!” whispered the giant, “I would walk across
this council-house and choke that devil to death But his time is
coming. Hark! a new arrival!” and the hermit listened to the shouts
nearing them from beyond the collection of lodges.
The shouts rapidly increased in distinctness, and presently the
new-comers burst upon the sight of all.
The party consisted of three half-naked braves, and Tecumseh’s famous
brother, the Prophet.
Through his devilish incantations, Laulewasikaw swayed the Indian
mind to no common degree, and, sooner than disobey his commands, the
Shawnees would have plucked their eyes from their sockets, or severed
their most useful members.
His arrival was quite unexpected, and Tecumseh’s countenance told
that he would rather that Laulewasikaw were at that time in his lodge
at Greenville.
The Prophet advanced to the center of the house, and greeted the
warriors assembled, then strode to Tecumseh, with whom he conversed
for a short time in low tones. It was plainly manifest that the
conversation was not agreeable to Tecumseh, for Laulewasikaw suddenly
turned from him and sought Jim Girty.
“The council must proceed!” cried Tecumseh, intending, if possible,
to prevent a conversation between his brother and the renegade. “The
pale-faces must die, and the braves know that Tecumseh burns no
prisoners at the tree. What, then, shall be their doom?”
After a moment of deathly silence, several chiefs arose and declared
for _crawling_ the gantlet, which punishment found favor in the eyes
of Tecumseh.
“We will hear from Laulewasikaw, our Prophet,” said the renegade. “He
will talk with the Manitou.”
Tecumseh frowned at this, but he dared not cross the path of his
brother, the red sorcerer.
The Prophet left Girty’s side and walked to the middle ground. His
single eye threw fierce glances at the three prisoners, calmly
awaiting their doom, and he knew that they were in his power. His
sorcery could doom them to any death desirable.
He drew a small bundle of sticks, tied with deer-thongs, beneath his
long robe, and spread them upon the ground, each the distance of
several inches from its neighbors. Then after mumbling some gibberish
with upturned face, and hands crossed upon his breast, he applied
fire to the first stick. It burned freely, and was soon consumed.
Another and another followed it to an ashy state, until every stick,
save one, was consumed, and the last stubbornly refused to burn!
All eyes were centered upon the Prophet, during this heathenish
specimen of his sorcery, and around the lips of Tecumseh played a
smile of contempt.
In the great Shawnee’s mind there always existed a disbelief in
sorcery, and at times he was outspoken against the black arts his
brother practiced. But, in a convocation of his chiefs and warriors,
he never dared to declaim against Laulewasikaw.
After several efforts--persistent ones they seemed to all save the
prisoners--to fire the last and stubborn stick, the Prophet rose to
his feet.
“The great Prophet of the Manitou will speak the doom of the pale
lips, and their brother, the red traitor. The Manitou speaks through
Laulewasikaw: ‘_The skin must be torn from their bodies, when the
Manitou’s lights appear, and then they must burn!_’”
This terrible doom sent a thrill to every heart beneath the roof of
the council-house, and drew a shriek from Eudora’s bloodless lips.
“My God!” cried Fairfax with pallid cheeks--for well might that
sentence, which even Tecumseh could not affect, drive the color from
the bravest face. “Flayed alive, and then burned!”
All knew that such a doom had resulted from Laulewasikaw’s brief
conversation with the renegade.
Tecumseh made an effort to throw it aside. He argued eloquently
against its brutality, but all to no effect. He reminded his braves
that since he became a chief no prisoner had died at the stake, and
to sustain his honour, he hoped that their votes would sustain him.
Briefly, sneeringly, and bitterly Laulewasikaw replied:
“Dared the Shawnees disobey the commands of the Great Spirit? If
so, let them abide the consequences, which would prove swift and
terrible.”
Seeing himself defeated, Tecumseh turned his back upon his brother,
and commanded the voting to proceed.
The sole ballot, a great club, upon which were carved many devices
intelligible only to the savage mind, was handed to the nearest
warrior. Around the circle it swiftly passed. Those who decided for
death by crawling the gantlet, struck the earth once with the club;
those who decided for the dreadful doom pronounced by the sorcerer,
bestowed two blows upon _terra-firma_.
Our friends held their breath as the club went round the living,
doomful circle, and ere it returned to him who first handed it, they
read the decision.
Nearly twenty braves had the manhood to sustain Tecumseh’s honor; but
the others, slaves to the prophet’s cunning, decided the vote.
_Flayed alive and then burned!_
The result was hailed with gleeful shouts by the concourse of squaws
assembled beyond the circle of warriors.
“To the strong lodge with the prisoners!” commanded Tecumseh, vainly
trying to bridle his rage. “Great Spirit, know that Tecumseh does not
sanction the work of Watchemenetoc.”
Among the braves who sprung forward to obey his command was the
renegade, who did not attempt to conceal his triumph.
“_I_ hold the best hand, now,” he hissed, as he paused before the
giant hermit. “I’ll blunt the keen edge of my knife, and it will
_tear_ the covering from your heart.”
The hermit gritted his teeth, and something like a tremor passed over
his frame. It was the tremor attesting the gathering of his Samsonian
strength. The next moment, his bonds burst with a sharp noise, and
his fingers griped Jim Girty’s throat!
Tighter and tighter grew the terrible grip; Girty’s eyes stared
wildly at his foe, his tongue protruded from his throat, and his
color changed to a sickly hue.
Tecumseh smiled at Hewitt’s action, and looked for Alaska; but she
and her wolves stood not among the throng of women.
For some moments the savages gazed upon the scene spellbound, when,
with sudden impulse, they sprung at the giant. A score of hands
grasped his arm, and, unresisting, he let Girty slide from his grip
to the earth, where he lay blackened and motionless.
The next moment they were being hurried toward the prison-lodge,
there to await their dreadful doom.
“I guess I’ve choked that devil to death,” whispered Hewitt to the
weak young hunter, whom he supported at his side. “But I guess, too,
that we’re in for it to-night, unless something mighty uncommon turns
up. I thought that mad-woman would do something for us; but I reckon
that she sees revenge in the fate proclaimed for us by the man she
hates. Oh! I’d like to know who she is; but I guess that I will never
know now.”
A few minutes later, the door of the strong hut closed behind them.