"Go, I say--go, Ralph!" again cried Bartle. "It will make it more
difficult for us to escape if you remain."
It was probable, I saw, that Bartle and Gideon, with their great
strength and activity, might by themselves be able to cut their way
through a host of foes, although with me to protect they might find the
task too great even for them.
"Good-bye, then; I hope we shall meet all right before long," I
exclaimed.
"Never fear, lad," cried Bartle, as I bounded off up the canon, my rifle
at my back, with three spare cartridges, and my pistol in my belt.
For some seconds the Indians did not observe what I was about, and I
soon had a good start of them. When at length they did catch sight of
my figure, dimly seen in the gloom of early morning, for it was scarcely
yet daylight, several started off in chase. I saw that they were
coming, but I did not stop to count their number. I was well acquainted
with every inch of the ground, which it was not likely that they were,
and I knew I should have abundance of hiding-places between the rocks
and crags, among which I might baffle pursuit. My purpose then was to
cross the torrent at a narrow part where a tree hung over it, and to
make to the northward, where I hoped to join Uncle Jeff and Clarice at
Winnemak's camp.
The Indians, however, had no intention of allowing me to escape. On
they came, uttering loud shrieks and shouts, expecting to strike terror
into my heart, and make me yield. Two or three were in advance of the
rest, and one especially seemed to be gaining on me. I would not
willingly have taken his life, but too probably, should I not stop his
progress, he would take mine. Having reached a rock, I sprang behind
it; then unslinging my rifle, I stepped out and took steady aim at the
advancing foe, who fell back shot through the body. His fall had the
effect of stopping the others, who lifted him up to ascertain if he were
dead, thus affording me time to reload my rifle, and gain several more
yards in advance. I could thus bring down another enemy, if necessary,
at a distance, and still have my pistol and sword to defend myself in a
closer encounter.
I had not forgotten my two brave friends. I only wished that they had
accompanied me, for we might, on the ground I had now reached, have set
a whole host of our enemies at defiance.
I sprang on among the rocks, almost entirely concealed from the view of
my pursuers. Few of them, fortunately, had firearms, although an
occasional ill-aimed bullet whistled over my head, but I had very little
fear of being struck while among the rocks. My great object was to
reach the tree over the torrent before the Indians came up, because I
should be exposed to view when climbing along the trunk.
I dashed on, and mounting the rock still unobserved, reached the root of
the tree. It would be necessary to use great caution as I approached
the further end, as only the more delicate branches hung over the
stream, and should I venture on one incapable of bearing my weight I
should fall into the torrent, which there went roaring by at a fearful
rate. This very circumstance, however, should I succeed, would secure
my safety, as, even should the Indians discover by what means I had
crossed, they would not venture to follow; or if they did, would most
probably fall into the current and be swept away.
I did not stop to ascertain how far off my pursuers were, but, climbing
up on the trunk, I made my way along it--trusting to the uncertainty of
their aim, should any with muskets see me and fire. My great object was
now to discover a bough on which I could depend. I cast my eye along
one, as far as the light would allow, and selected it; then, like a wild
cat about to spring on its prey, I crawled quickly on. There were
several branches below me, which, should the one I was on give way,
would still afford me support, and there were many on either side. The
bough bent with my weight, and as I reached the further end I every
moment expected that it would break. I felt it giving way, cracking
horribly. It broke! I endeavoured to seize another bough--in vain.
With a crash, down I came, but it was to find myself on the opposite
bank, and by making a few springs I reached the upper ground.
On looking back to ascertain if the Indians had found out the way by
which I had crossed, I could see no one, but I caught sight in the
distance of a bright glare, which I was too certain was caused by our
burning house, every part of which by this time must have been in
flames. I did not stop, however, to contemplate the sad scene, but
pushed on as fast as I was able. I could not trust to the Indians not
pursuing me, for I knew, when intent on an object, that they will run
every danger rather than abandon it, and the death of their companion
would make them still more eager to kill me than might otherwise have
been the case. On, therefore, I sprang. I could still hear them,
although I believed they had not seen me cross by the tree, or perhaps
even had not discovered the tree itself, as it was concealed by an
intervening rock. I hoped that they would fancy I had taken the way
further up the canon, and would pursue in that direction. I might
therefore proceed at a less furious pace than I had hitherto been going.
Still, I resolved to leave nothing to chance, but to follow my course
until the Indians had given up the pursuit.
Stopping to listen a moment, I could hear their voices. Again I went on
as fast as before. Now I had a mountain to scale; now to make my way
along its steep side; now to descend into a valley; now to wade across a
stream which threatened to carry me off my legs; now to climb another
height: and so on I went, until I was conscious that my strength was
failing me. At length, completely exhausted, I sank down beneath an
overhanging rock. It afforded me some shelter from the fiery rays of
the sun, which had now risen high in the sky.
I had drunk at a spring on my way, but I again felt painfully thirsty.
Could I obtain some water, I should be greatly relieved; but I was not
likely to find it without further exertion, and of that I was incapable.
I had brought a little food in my wallet, according to Uncle Jeff's
advice before we left the house, and this I believe was the means of
saving my life. Although it was dry, it gave me some strength.
I remained in a sort of stupor, scarcely conscious of what had occurred;
and some hours, I suspect, went by, before I attempted to resume my
journey. I had no desire to spend the night in this exposed part of the
mountains. The scenery around Roaring Water was wild enough, but this
appeared to me wilder still. Lofty broken cliffs rose on either side of
me. So broken and irregular were their fantastic forms, that I could
fancy myself amid the ruins of some Egyptian temple. It seemed to be a
gateway, as it were, to some still wilder or more wonderful region, as
yet unexplored by the foot of man. I had never been thus far before,
and had very just fears, should darkness come on, of losing my way. I
therefore pushed forward as fast as my strength would allow, in the hope
of coming upon water, and kept a sharp look-out in every direction to
find indication of it.
The sun had crossed the mountains, and was sinking towards the west; in
a short time the shadows of their peaks would be thrown over the ground
upon which I was travelling. Stopping for a moment, I heard the sound
of water rushing over a rocky bed, and hurrying forward I found myself
beside a foaming stream. I had, however, to seek for a path by which I
could descend, before I could slake my thirst. At last I got to a place
where, lying at full length, and holding on with one hand by the branch
of a bush, I could lift the water with the other to my mouth. It seemed
impossible to get enough; but at last I felt that I ought to take no
more.
The ground being tolerably practicable along the bank of the stream, I
proceeded in that direction, desirous of reaching a lower region before
nightfall; and as I went along I resolved to seek for some bushes or an
overhanging rock, under which to take shelter for the night.
I had now very little fear of being overtaken; indeed, the Indians would
probably have lost my trail in the streams I had crossed, while the
rocky nature of the ground would scarcely bear marks sufficient for even
their acute eyes to discover. I knew that as yet I could not be abreast
of Winnemak's camp, and, indeed, that across the mountains it would
probably take me two or three days to reach it. Still I felt that it
would be prudent, in case the Indians should be scouring the country in
the plains, to keep to the mountains for another whole day or so.
Just at dusk I saw a spot at which, from the appearance of the water, I
judged that I could cross the torrent. "I will put that, at all events,
between myself and my enemies, should they be pursuing me," I thought,
and without further hesitation I waded towards the opposite shore. The
water rose higher and higher. I had, I feared, been deceived by the
light, and might have to swim for it. The danger of this was, that I
might lose my rifle, and wet my pistol and ammunition. Very thankful,
therefore, was I when the water again shallowed; and, keeping my feet in
spite of the rush against my legs, I at last got to the bank to which I
was directing my course.
I now continued down the stream until I reached a rock which almost
overhung it, with bushes on either side. This, I saw, would afford me
as secure a resting-place as I could expect to find. I accordingly
resolved to stop; and having examined the locality on the further side,
in case I should have to beat a retreat, I sat down and took some food,
of which I still had a small portion left. The air was tolerably warm,
and, fatigued as I was, I should under ordinary circumstances have
slumbered soundly; but as it was I felt very little inclination to
sleep. I was too anxious about Uncle Jeff, and Bartle, and Gideon. Had
Uncle Jeff escaped the bullets of the enemy; and had the others managed
to cut their way through the horde of savages? The white men in company
with the Redskins, I looked upon as no better than they were. What,
too, had become of the German and the Irishman? Had they, afraid of
fighting in the open, remained in the house, and fallen victims to the
flames? Such, indeed, must have been the fate of the poor wounded
fellows left in the house. My only satisfaction was, that we had done
all that men could do, and that we could not have saved their lives,
although we should, to a certainty, have sacrificed our own had we made
the attempt. Still I had an idea that Barney and Klitz had some plan of
their own for escaping, and that they might turn up some day or other.
I half expected to find that Bartle and Gideon had followed me, and I
looked out eagerly, hoping to see them. How far I had come I could not
exactly calculate, but I knew that, at the rate I had been moving, it
must be a considerable distance.
At length, overcome by fatigue, I fell asleep, trusting that He by whom
I had been mercifully preserved would watch over me. When I at last
awoke, daylight was glancing across the foaming waters, the only sound I
heard being that of their roar as they rushed over their rocky bed
towards the valley below. I knelt down and prayed, as I had been
accustomed to do from my childhood; and then, before resuming my
journey, I took some of the scanty remains of the food I had brought
with me, which I washed down with a draught from the stream.
Finding a practicable path to the left over the mountains, I followed
it, still resolved not to trust myself in the neighbourhood of our foes.
They could not have travelled over the mountains by night, but they
might take it into their heads to follow me by day, and it would be
unwise to linger. I did not slacken my speed, either, for if they did
come they would move as fast as I could, and I might be overtaken. I
stopped only occasionally, to eat a little food and to take a draught of
water, of which I now found abundance by the way.
I cannot fully describe the events of that day. On and on I went, like
a deer chased by the hunters. Sometimes I would fancy that I heard the
war-whoops of the Indians behind me; at others the sounds which I
conjured up appeared to be uttered by Bartle or Gideon. I would stop to
listen, but only the roar of some distant waterfall or the murmur of a
nearer rapid struck my ear. Or now and again I heard the cry of some
bird of prey, as it swooped down from its lofty eyrie towards the
carcass which it had espied far off on the plain below.
Again I was becoming faint with my exertions, and my food was exhausted.
Whenever I stopped to rest, too, my mind dwelt upon the fearful scenes
I had witnessed, and the fate of my friends. I was not altogether free
from anxiety about Clarice, either. Brave and trustworthy as was my
friend Manley, his party might have been pursued and overpowered by the
savages, and my fair young sister might have been carried away into
captivity, to suffer worse than death. To succumb, however, would have
been unmanly. Although fatigued in body and anxious in mind, I had
still sufficient physical strength to pursue my way.
The day was advancing, and I determined to strike down into the plains,
where, at all events, I could make more rapid progress than over the
rough ground I had been traversing. I accordingly directed my course,
as I believed, to the eastward; but still hill beyond hill appeared, and
it seemed as if I should never reach the more level ground. Still up
and on I went, until at length I gained a height from whence, looking
down, I saw that the prairie stretched out in the far distance before
me.
I was descending at as rapid a rate as the ground would allow, when I
caught sight, in the approaching gloom of evening, of the figure of a
man. The person, whoever he was, had seen me as I appeared on the top
of a rock exposed against the sky, and was coming towards me. To avoid
him was impossible, so I got my weapons ready for an encounter, should
he prove to be an enemy. Although he must have seen I held my rifle in
my hand, he advanced without hesitation.
"What! do you not know me?" he exclaimed, when he got nearer. "I am
Winnemak, the friend of the Palefaces; although, alas! with but little
power to assist them. You, however, I can aid, for I see you are weary
and hungry. Come with me to where a few of my braves are encamped--but
few, alas! the rest are killed or dispersed. We were on our way to the
northward, where our squaws, children, and old men are encamped, when I
caught sight of you as you came down the mountain, and I knew at once
that you were flying from the Arrapahas."
This information explained Winnemak's unexpected appearance. Aided by
him, I continued the descent of the mountain, although I believe without
his support I could have gone no farther. He then told me all that had
occurred.
Having visited Roaring Water and warned Uncle Jeff of the attack he knew
would be made on the farm, he returned to where he had left his
warriors, resolved to make a diversion in our favour, as he had
promised. He had attacked the Arrapahas with much determination, but,
overwhelmed by numbers, he had been driven back, with the loss of many
of his followers. Having in vain attempted to reach the farm, he had
stationed a band of his best warriors to afford us support should we
have deserted the house, or attempted afterwards to cut our way out of
it.
I was much disappointed to find that he could give me no information
about Uncle Jeff, or about any of our friends; he was not even aware
that Clarice had gone to join his daughter at the camp. He expressed
his satisfaction at hearing that she had escaped the fate which had, he
supposed, befallen all the inmates of the farm.
He now conducted me to his temporary camp, where we found a few of his
warriors reclining on the ground. Several of them were wounded, and all
looked weary and disheartened. They had, however, succeeded in killing
a deer, and food was abundant. I was thankful to get a substantial
meal, after which I lay down with the rest by the side of the stream, to
obtain the sleep I so much needed.
A few skins had been stretched over some poles to afford shelter to the
wounded, who required it more than the rest of us.
I had been asleep for several hours, when, suddenly awaking, I happened
to turn my eyes across the stream, and saw, partly concealed by the
brushwood, the figure of an Indian stooping down and apparently watching
us. My first impulse was to jump up and present my rifle at him. I
had, indeed, made some slight movement, when I felt a hand placed upon
my arm. It was that of Winnemak.
"Hush!" he whispered. "I see the spy, and can kill him if I wish; but
it is important to take him alive, to learn what he is about."
I observed, as he spoke, that he was freeing himself of such parts of
his dress as might impede his progress, and that he was gradually
creeping nearer and nearer to the edge of the stream. Being in the
shade, he could not be seen by the stranger. Presently Winnemak rose to
his feet, and making a spring, almost cleared the stream. With a few
bounds he was on the opposite bank.
The spy saw him coming, and finding that he was discovered, rose from
his recumbent position. He, too, was fleet of foot, and lightly clad.
Away he rushed towards the level prairie; perhaps he expected to find
friends there, or had his horse staked in that direction, near some wood
or copse.
As soon as I perceived what Winnemak was about, I too sprang up, as did
several Indians, but as they were all worn out with fatigue they were
soon left behind. Being a good runner, I kept pace with the chief,
although still at a considerable distance behind him, as he had had the
start of me.
Day was just breaking, and there being no objects to impede the rays of
the sun as it approached the horizon, the light rapidly increased.
Although I had, at first, lost sight of Winnemak, I soon again saw him,
with the man he was pursuing at no great distance in front.
On the two went. Neither of them being armed, the fight was not likely
to be a bloody one; still it was evident that Winnemak attached great
importance to the capture of the spy. Perhaps he suspected who he was;
and he evidently entertained a bitter animosity against him. I could
not have supposed that he would have exhibited so much activity, judging
from his appearance when clothed in his usual robes. Although he
appeared to be a strong, muscular man, the other Indian, from his
movements, was evidently young and active. How he had ventured to
approach the camp without being armed, was a mystery. He could not, at
all events, have intended to injure any one, or he would have come with
his bow and arrows. As the light rapidly increased, and I saw him more
clearly than at first, it struck me that he was the young brave,
Piomingo, who had lately paid us a visit at the farm; but of this,
seeing him at the distance he was from me, I could not be certain.
The chase promised to be a far longer one than I had expected. The
stranger seemed as resolved to escape as Winnemak was to overtake him.
Few people, Indians or whites, except after long training, could have
continued running so fast and for so long a period as did the spy and
Winnemak.
I had the greatest difficulty in keeping near them; and, indeed, I had
begun to fall behind, when I saw in front of me a broad piece of water.
The fugitive saw it too, but had he turned either to the right or to the
left it would have given an advantage to his pursuer; he therefore kept
straight on.
His efforts to escape were vain. As he approached the bank the ground
became so soft that his feet sunk deep into it at every step. He
discovered, too late, his mistake. Springing back, he attempted to make
his way to the right; but in doing so he fell. Recovering himself,
however, he sprang back on to the firm ground; but seeing that escape by
flight was no longer possible, he turned round and boldly faced his
pursuer. At the same instant a wild swan, rising from the water, flew
off with a loud cry. It might have been taken for the death-wail of one
of the combatants. Like a couple of wild beasts, the two Indians rushed
at each other, and the next instant they were clasped in a deadly
embrace. A desperate struggle ensued. It was youth and activity
opposed to well-knit muscles and firm nerves.
Fierce was the contest. The young man attempted to free himself from
the grasp of his opponent; now they strove to seize each other by the
throat; now his antagonist bore back the chief by making a desperate
spring as his feet for a moment touched the ground; but if the older man
allowed himself to retreat, it was only for the purpose of wearing out
the strength of the younger, which he knew would soon be exhausted.
Winnemak now seized one of his antagonist's arms, and with a movement as
quick as thought threw him on his back across his own knee; then
pressing him down, it appeared to me that he intended to break his
spine. A fearful shriek, wrung from him by the agony he was suffering,
escaped the lips of the young brave; his eyes closed--the struggle was
over. Still Winnemak did not let go his victim, but gazing fiercely
down on his countenance until all appearance of life had ceased, he
hurled the body to the ground. As he did so he exclaimed, "Stay there!
You have betrayed me once; you would have stolen my daughter; you will
no longer have the power to follow your evil practices."
The combat was over as I reached the place.
"Is he dead?" I asked, as I gazed down on the face of the vanquished
brave.
"He will die," answered Winnemak; "but he still breathes."
"But I thought you wished to gain information from him?" I observed,
feeling anxious to preserve the life of the poor wretch.
"I did; but now I would rather enjoy the pleasure of seeing him die."
"That is not the way we Palefaces treat a fallen enemy," I remarked.
"You must not be displeased at what I say,--I would ask you to allow me
to have him brought into the camp. At all events, for the present he
can do no further harm, and he may wish to show his gratitude to those
who have preserved his life."
"Do as you please," said the chief, after a moment's consideration.
I got some water from the lake,--finding a hard place by which I could
approach it,--and threw it over the face of the fallen man, who had, I
perceived, merely fainted from the excruciating pain he was suffering.
He at length opened his eyes, and seemed to recognise me. It _was_
Piomingo. The chief, I noticed, stood by, watching every movement of
his late antagonist. I raised Piomingo's head, and was thankful to find
that he now began to breathe more freely.
"Take care," said the chief. "He intends acting the part of the cunning
fox, and will yet make an effort to escape."
Piomingo turned his eyes towards the speaker, apparently understanding
him.
I was still making every effort to restore him, when several of
Winnemak's followers came up.
"Then you grant my request?" I said, turning to the chief.
"I will not refuse you!" he answered; "but he will not thank you for the
mercy you wish to show him."
I begged the Indians to assist me in carrying the injured man back to
the camp, and the chief bade them do as I desired. Obtaining some poles
from a copse which grew near, they quickly formed a litter, upon which
they bore him back to the spot from which we had started. Not a groan
escaped him, although I suspected, from the expression of his
countenance, that he was suffering greatly. On arriving at the camp, in
spite of my representations the chief ordered that his legs should be
bound together, and that one of his hands should be fastened to a tree,
so that he would be unable to escape.
Those who had remained in camp had prepared breakfast, to which even the
wounded did ample justice. I took some food to the prisoner, who in a
short time was able to swallow a little.
After some persuasion from me, and the promise of a reward, four of the
Indians undertook to carry their captive to the camp of Winnemak, to
which we were bound; it was very evident that otherwise he must have
been left to die miserably, as he was quite unable to walk. Three of
the wounded men had also to be carried, so that we formed a
mournful-looking party, as, shortly after our meal was finished, we
commenced our march.