"It is not a time for idle grief,
Nor a time for tears to flow;
The horror that freezes his limbs is brief--
He grasps his war-axe and bow, and a sheaf
Of darts made sharp for the foe."
BRYANT.
As might be inferred from the scenes and excitements of the preceding
day, the inmates of the cottage did not seek the night's repose with the
accustomed feelings of tranquility and safety. Ruth went over again in
memory the events of the day, and she could not conceal from her own
mind the fact that Ralph Weston was much more to her than an ordinary
stranger. Having known him in youth, she had always esteemed the leading
traits of his character; and she now felt that esteem ripening into a
passion which bears a much more tender name.
As for Ralph, he had not needed to pass through any such excitements or
dangers, as Ruth and he had that day encountered, to adjust any wavering
balance of affection. He had seen enough to perfectly satisfy him that
Ruth looked upon him with no indifference; and notwithstanding the
preparations for defense and the unpleasant ideas which the prospect of
an Indian attack would be likely to excite, he sank into a pleasant
slumber, and was willingly borne off into the region of fairy dreams.
Ichabod had no such potent specific with which to drown care and
reflection. The Tuscarora, and his probable object in visiting the
valley--his mysterious manner during their brief conversation--were ever
present to his mind; and after tossing about restlessly on his bed until
nearly daylight, he arose with the resolution of seeking an explanation
of the mystery. His preparations were made in silence, and without
disturbing any of the inmates of the house. Throwing his rifle across
his arm, and fastening into a belt which he buckled around him a large
hunting-knife, he noiselessly descended into the lower part of the
building.
In the gloom which pervaded the room into which Ichabod entered, it was
some time before he discovered Sambo, who had been stationed there to
keep watch during the night. He at length espied him, sitting in a chair
before the huge fire-place, with his head bent upon his breast, in a
most unmistakable attitude of slumber. Ichabod had not forgotten the
grinning of the negro, at his exploits in fishing the day before, and he
was willing to give him a sufficient fright to punish him a little.
Advancing noiselessly towards him, he placed one hand on the top of his
woolly head, and with a rapid motion of the other imitated the circular
cutting used in the process of scalping, imprinting his thumb-nail with
sufficient force into the skin, to give the sleeping negro a distinct
impression of that disagreeable operation.
As the whole family for that night had retired to the upper part of the
house, Ichabod knew that he should be able to stifle the cries of the
negro, so that no one in the building would be alarmed.
The moment Sambo felt the impression of the thumb-nail on his skin, he
awoke with a scream of fear; but Ichabod rapidly closed his mouth with
one of his heavy hands.
"Oh gor-a-massy--massa Injin! I'm scalped. O Lor'! O Lor'!" exclaimed
the negro; and in his distress he tumbled down upon the floor under the
impression that he was about to give up the ghost.
Ichabod, who saw that he had carried the joke as far as safety to the
negro would allow, lifted him up into the chair.
"There, you black devil! go to sleep will you, when you're on duty? You
do that again, and we'll have you hung by the articles of war."
The negro, who was perfectly willing to escape a scalping for the
present, by a prospect of hanging in the future, speedily recovered from
his fright.
"O gor-a-massy, 'twas you, was it, Massa Jenkins? Know'd it was you, all
the while! Needn't think you could come possum over this nigger, any
how; I jist set down in the chair to listen a little."
Ichabod, who was amused at the assurance of the negro, advised him not
to listen in that manner any more, or he would get scalped in earnest.
Then unbarring the door, and bidding the negro to fasten it after him,
and to inform the Squire and Captain when they got up, that he should be
back in an hour or two, departed, in the direction of the shanty.
It was now nearly day-light; and the first silvery rays of the morning
were beginning to dispel the darkness. The moon had set sometime before,
and as in the midst of the forest, it was almost impossible to discern
his path, it was necessary that he should proceed with extreme caution.
Following noiselessly the rough path over which Ralph and Miss Barton
had journeyed the day before, he hoped to reach the shanty by day-light.
A walk through the forest in a new country by night, to one unaccustomed
to it, would not be likely to excite the most agreeable reflections. But
Ichabod had in other times been used to all the dangers of the
wilderness, and this morning walk had to him sufficient excitement to
make it decidedly a pleasure. As he journeyed on, the silence by which
he was surrounded was occasionally broken by the distant howl of a wolf.
Scarcely had the melancholy sound died in the echoes of the forest, ere
an owlet's shriek would be heard, sharp and piercing, by his side--and
in the next moment it would be answered by a cry that came mellowed from
the distance. Then, perhaps, the rustling of dry leaves, or the cracking
of a dry bough, indicated that some small animal was flying from his
presence. Occasionally stopping for a moment, to listen if he could not
catch sounds which would indicate the presence of something against
which it would be necessary to guard himself he continued to advance in
the direction of the hut, where on the evening before he had encountered
the Tuscarora.
This hut or shanty, the precise location of which, with reference to the
surrounding country, we have not described, was situated about a mile
below the residence of Barton, at the foot of a hill which gradually
rose on the western side to the height of one hundred and fifty or two
hundred feet. On the east, at the distance of about thirty rods, was the
river. Beyond the river were flats extending nearly half a mile in
width; while nearly opposite the hut, a small stream came from the
north-east, down a narrow valley, which gave to the valley just opposite
the hut the appearance of a much greater width than it really possessed.
Ichabod arrived at the shanty at just about the hour he had calculated
upon. The light of the morning had begun to creep through the woods,
giving to objects an uncertain appearance. He approached it cautiously,
listening if he might not hear some sound that would indicate the
presence of the Tuscarora. Not receiving any such indication, he touched
the door, which noiselessly opened, when he entered the hut. It was
entirely deserted, and every trace of its recent occupation had been
removed.
This caution on the part of the Tuscarora was strong evidence to Ichabod
that enemies were near, and he at once saw the object of it. In case the
hut should be visited, the Indian wished it to appear as if it had not
been disturbed, so that no clue could be obtained to his motions.
Ichabod, who was an adept in the Indian mode of warfare, endeavored to
discover in which direction the Tuscarora had departed. But this was no
easy undertaking. He looked cautiously about for a trail, but the ground
had been so much trodden the night before, it was a long time ere he
could discover the print of the occasional foot of the Indian, and then
only by the side of the hut where he had conversed with him. At length,
moving off to the distance of six or eight rods from the shanty, he
commenced walking about it in a circle with his eyes fastened upon the
ground. He had proceeded but a few rods in this round before he
discovered the footprint for which he was searching. The Indian, on
leaving the hut, had evidently gone in a south-easterly direction
towards the river.
The point, proceeding in the line taken by the Tuscarora, as which he
would reach the river, would be at just about a hundred rods from the
shanty. Ichabod followed, at once, in this direction; but advancing with
extreme caution. His progress was necessarily slow, as he was obliged
not only to examine the ground with great care to discover the
footprints which the light step of the Indian had made, but also to
observe if there were any signs of other Indians in the vicinity. At
length, he approached the river, the margin of which, here, was covered
with a thick growth of willows of about eight or ten feet in height,
which rendered it almost impossible to get a glimpse of the water.
He had arrived within two rods of the shore, when, at once, he lost all
traces of the Tuscarora. He was searching the ground intently to regain
the trail he had lost, when he heard a slight sound in the direction of
the river, like that made by a paddle slightly rubbing the side of a
canoe. Stooping so as to be more thoroughly hidden by the willows, which
were much thicker towards the ground, he advanced close to them, and
endeavored to get sight of the object which had attracted his attention.
It will be necessary to explain, a little more fully, the precise
situation of Ichabod with reference to the river. The line of willows we
have mentioned, was about six or eight feet in width, and run in a north
and south line, parallel with the course of the river; but immediately
below where he stood, there was a thick clump of them, which extended
some twenty feet from the apparent course of the river, directly towards
the forest; so that Ichabod was not only protected by those in front,
but he occupied a sort of cover formed by them in the sudden turn which
they took towards the west.
Carefully pulling back a few of the twigs of the willows which skirted
the river, and which impeded his observation, he now distinctly heard
the sound of a canoe approaching from below. The river was here about
six rods in width, and was of considerable depth, although the current
was strong; which latter fact accounted for the sound he had heard--some
effort being required to urge the canoe against the force of the water.
Shortly the canoe came in sight. Ichabod started as he beheld three
Indians in it, whom he at once knew to be Senecas. His first impulse was
to raise his rifle; but a moment's reflection taught him that such a
course would be unwise. In the first place, although the new government
had concluded as yet no formal treaty of peace with the hostile tribes
of the Six Nations, yet as it was tacitly understood that such a treaty
would soon be made, and all encounters had therefore been mutually
suspended it would be criminal and improper to attack them except in
self-defence, or the defence of his friends. Another reason, also came
to his aid--although it is proper to mention that it was the last one
that occurred to him--and that was, that if he succeeded in killing or
disabling one of the Indians, he would still have the remaining two upon
his hands, without possessing any adequate means of defending himself;
while it was more than probable that there were other Senecas in the
vicinity.
The Indians were moving very slowly against the current, and were
evidently in search of some object which they expected to discover along
the shore. Ichabod recognized one of these Indians as a subordinate
chief of the Seneca Nation, whom he had encountered in some of the
conflicts of the war; but who possessed a high reputation among his
people, for boldness and cunning. The name of this chief was Panther,
which he had received from the characteristics we have mentioned. As
they came in sight, the canoe was not more than twenty feet from the
position occupied by Ichabod, and he could distinctly hear the
conversation between the chief and his companions, although they
conversed in a low tone. Ichabod had learned enough of the dialect which
was common to the Six Nations, to understand at once, the purport of the
conversation. We will endeavor to translate, for the benefit of the
reader, the language of the Senecas:
"Me no understand," said Panther; "saw canoe here, somewhere. No get out
of water without seeing it."
"Canoe light; gone up river p'raps," said one of his companions.
"Canendesha got quick eye," said the other Seneca; "he cunning Injin. He
won't let scalp go, if he can help it."
A gleam of ferocity passed across the swarthy face of Panther.
"Canendesha _is_ cunning and brave. His enemies will say that; but he
has got the scalp of a Seneca, and I shall be ashamed to go back to the
wigwams of my nation, if I do not take his. The Senecas are not squaws,
to let a Tuscarora run off with their scalps."
Slowly moving against the current, the three Indians had got both out of
sight and hearing of Ichabod. Immediately behind him was a small knoll
four or five feet in height. He had commenced moving towards it with the
intention of getting a further view of the Senecas, whose business he
now understood, when his attention was attracted by a slight waving of
the willows in the centre of the clump which we have mentioned. Glancing
sharply in that direction, with his rifle raised in a position to fire
should it be necessary, he saw an Indian emerging from the willows, whom
he knew at once to be the Tuscarora.
"No get _my_ scalp this time;" said Eagle's-Wing. "I get another scalp
first;" and he pointed to a bleeding trophy of a recent encounter, with
all the pride with which a victorious general would have pointed to the
capture of the standards and munitions of war of a vanquished enemy.
"What's the meaning of all this, Eagle's-Wing?" asked Ichabod, with
evident disgust at beholding the bleeding trophy. "Why has Canendesha
dug up the hatchet, when the pale-faces and their Indian allies have
buried it?"
"I no dig it up," answered the Tuscarora, with energy; "Seneca dig it
up. I must have Panther's scalp too," and he was about following the
canoe up the river.
"Stop a moment, Eagle's-Wing," exclaimed Ichabod, who laid his strong
hand on the shoulder of his friend. "I want to know the meaning of all
this; you must not go after them Injins now. I hate a Seneca, on general
principles, as much as you do; but it won't do to go scalping round in
these days, without good reason for it. Let me know what's the matter,
and if it's anything where a friend can help with an easy conscience,
I'll rush into the speculation."
Thus urged, the Indian, after a sufficient time had elapsed to satisfy
the dignity of a chief, proceeded to relate one of those romances of the
forest, which, in general feature, may not be very dissimilar to those
of civilized life--the only difference consisting in the darker and
wilder coloring which belongs to pictures of savage life. We will not
attempt to give it in the precise words and with the manner of the
Tuscarora, although we hope to exhibit in some degree the energy with
which some portions of it were related.
It seemed that a short time before, a band of Senecas, for some purpose,
had been hanging about the villages of the Oneidas and Tuscaroras,
situated some fifty miles north of that portion of the valley about
which we are now writing. Their business did not seem to be of a warlike
nature, and frequent visits of ceremony had been exchanged between the
chiefs of the once hostile tribes: and professions were made by the
Senecas of a desire to unite once more the severed bond of union between
the different nations of the confederacy. This condition of things
existed for a few days, when it was announced by the Senecas that they
were about to depart towards their own villages. The Tuscarora, the day
before that announced for the departure of the Senecas, made them a
visit of ceremony, accompanied by his young wife, whose Indian name,
translated into English, was Singing-Bird. The visitors were treated
with the utmost distinction, although Eagle's-Wing fancied that on one
or two occasions he observed symptoms of a revival of the old feeling of
hostility towards him, which the late conflicts had engendered. The band
of Senecas consisted of about thirty-five warriors, under the command of
Panther, whose treacherous and perfidious nature Eagle's-Wing was well
acquainted with.
But the Tuscarora was brave, and if he felt, did not exhibit any
symptoms of the suspicions which occupied his mind. At length on the
approach of evening, the Tuscarora announced his departure. Panther
courteously accompanied him a short distance from the lodge, when
suddenly a number of Indians who had been secreted in ambush, sprang
upon the Tuscarora and the young squaw, and they were at once bound and
brought back to the lodge. The Indians made immediate preparations for
departure--as would be necessary, indeed, after such an act of
perfidy--for the Tuscaroras and Oneidas, whose villages were situated
but a few miles distant, would shortly suspect the treachery, and come
in search of the prisoners. Panther's motive in this double act of
treachery and inhospitality, was supposed to be a feeling of revenge
towards the Tuscarora--who had signalized himself during the war, by his
friendship for the cause of the Colonies--and also a desire to obtain
the beautiful Singing-Bird for his own wigwam.
The Senecas, with their prisoners, had marched all that night in a
southerly direction, making use of all the devices of which an Indian is
capable, to conceal the direction of their march. Near morning, the
Tuscarora, although closely guarded, had found means to escape; but
instead of retracing his steps to get assistance from his own people or
from the Oneidas, he followed on the trail of the Senecas, hoping that
he should find some means to release Singing-Bird from her captivity. He
also hoped that his brethren, discovering, as they certainly would, the
treachery that had been used towards him, would send out a party of
warriors to rescue him.
The Senecas had passed along the valley on the day when we first
introduced the Tuscarora to the reader. They had encamped on the flats,
about two miles below the shanty we have mentioned, but in a direction
much nearer the river than that taken by Ralph and Miss Barton, in their
journey of the day before.
The Tuscarora, after the party, on the night before, had left the
shanty, carefully obliterated all traces of the recent occupancy of the
hut, and proceeded towards the encampment of the Senecas. He had nearly
accomplished his purpose of delivering Singing-Bird, who was confined in
a temporary wigwam which had been erected for her, when he was
discovered by a young warrior of the Senecas. A conflict, brief but
terrible, had ensued, which resulted in the death of the Seneca; and
although this conflict had prevented the execution of his purpose, he
succeeded in bearing away the usual Indian trophy of victory.
A sufficient party had been left to guard the wigwam in which
Singing-Bird was confined, and the remainder of the Indians, almost
twenty-five in number, had set off in immediate pursuit of Eagle's-Wing.
The latter discovered, in his flight, which was along the course of the
river, a light bark canoe, which had been constructed by Guthrie; and
at once entering it, rapidly urged it up the stream. By so doing,
although the Senecas who were pursuing him by land, might pass him, yet
he could be able to secrete himself until day-light, certainly, and
leave no trail which could be followed. On the day before, in noting the
course of the river, and the means of shelter, should he find it
necessary to take to a hiding place, he had marked the clump of willows
we have mentioned, which to all appearance was merely a thicker and more
extensive growth than was elsewhere observed. But, as he now showed
Ichabod, in the centre of this clump was a small body of water connected
with the river--a sort of cove--the mouth of which was completely
guarded by a thick undergrowth of willows. To a person in a canoe on the
river, there was nothing to indicate, except with the very closest
attention, but that the line of the willows was the shore of the river.
Thus, by separating the willows, he had forced the canoe into this small
cove, where he was completely hidden from all observation, as well from
the land, as from the water.
Ichabod, who was much excited by this forest romance, at once entered
into the feelings of the Tuscarora.
"I don't blame you any, Eagle's-Wing," said he: "I don't like this
scalping business, but I s'pose you've got to fight according to your
natur'; but I'll tell you this, Eagle's-Wing,--here's my hand on a
bargain,--and I'll stick to it, whether the speculation's good or
bad--we'll rescue Singing-Bird, any way; but don't let us have any more
scalping, just now. We must deceive them rascals. I never knew a
scoundrel of a Seneca yet, but could be cheated some way or other."
Notwithstanding the interest which this conversation had excited, the
Tuscarora and Ichabod had both been intent in watching the course of the
canoe. It had now advanced some twenty-five or thirty rods up the river,
when Panther, evidently believing he had passed the spot where the
Tuscarora had been observed, now headed the canoe downstream, with the
intention of making a more diligent search.
Ichabod was about to propose a retreat towards the forest, when he
suddenly beheld in that direction a small party of Indians advancing
towards them. The intelligence was silently communicated to the
Tuscarora, when they both rapidly entered the clump of willows, and
seated themselves in the canoe. Their rifles were examined, and they
both adjusted their knives so that they would be in readiness, if it
should be necessary to use them.
The Indians who were approaching from the forest perceived Panther and
his companions in the canoe, and signs were at once made to attract
their attention. Panther observed them, and the canoe was immediately
brought to the shore, where the other Indians had now arrived. The
Senecas who had come from the woods occupied the precise spot where
Ichabod had first observed the canoe of Panther. The latter had brought
his canoe to the edge of the willows, and putting them aside, sprung
lightly through them to the land.
The Senecas were now not more than ten or fifteen feet from the hiding
place of the Tuscarora, so that their conversation could be easily
overheard.
Panther, speaking to Deersfoot, who was the leader of the small party
which had been sent to scour the forest, asked if any trace had been
found of the fugitive. Deersfoot replied that he had not been able to
find any trail.
Luckily for both Eagle's-Wing and Ichabod, the Indians who had visited
the shanty, since the latter left it in the morning, had not taken the
pains to discover the trail of the Tuscarora which Ichabod had done; and
they had also followed the same direction in approaching the river, but
without examining the ground with sufficient care, to discover the
footmarks of either Eagle's-Wing or Ichabod. The consequence was, that
now, so far as any clue could be obtained to their position from that
source, they were perfectly safe, as the Senecas, in traveling in the
same direction, had completely obscured the signs which, with a little
more care, they might have discovered.
Panther and Deersfoot now held a whispered consultation, which Ichabod,
although he reached forward as far as his safety would permit, could not
distinctly overhear. But he was quite sure that he heard something said
about the pale-faces at the cottage. He was certain from this that the
Indians would visit the house of Barton; and he was extremely anxious to
return there, so that he might communicate the intelligence as soon as
possible.
If such was the intention of the Senecas, it appeared that they did not
intend to put it in execution immediately; for after this consultation
was finished, Panther directed the Indians to follow along down the
shore, while he examined it from the canoe.
Panther returned to his canoe; while Deersfoot with his party, passing
around the cove, proceeded diligently to search for the enemy whom they
were leaving in security, at least for the present, behind them.
As soon as they had passed out of sight, Ichabod insisted that
Eagle's-Wing should accompany him to the cottage. The Indian at first
refused, from the idea that his presence there would bring danger upon
the family of Barton; but as Ichabod assured him of the certainty of
holding out the cottage against any attack which the Senecas might make
upon it, and also of the joy with which Barton and his daughter would
welcome him, he finally yielded; and leaving the canoe in its shelter,
they rapidly proceeded thitherward through the forest.