"The bow has lost its wonted spring,
The arrow falters on the wing,
Nor carries ruin from the string,
To end their being and our woes."
FRENEAU.
The Tuscarora, after the departure of Ichabod, followed by Guthrie,
cautiously crept towards the lodge in which he expected to find Ruth and
Singing-Bird. This he was enabled to do in comparative safety, as he
moved in a deep shadow; and his only danger consisted in the chance of
meeting some straggling Seneca, or someone who might have been selected
as a guard for this particular quarter. But, without interruption, he
gained the side of the lodge, the entrance to which was upon the west;
but he could not reach it without a momentary exposure of his person to
the eyes of anyone who might chance to be looking in that direction.
Arriving at this point, he paused, and began imitating the shrill
whistle or screech of the tree-toad, which, it seems, had been agreed
upon between him and Singing-Bird, as a signal of his presence, in any
emergency like the present. To his surprise, he received no answer.
Again he gave the signal, but no answer was returned. A cold shudder
ran through that frame of the Tuscarora, as he feared that the prisoners
had been removed, and that their enterprise must fail. But he was
determined to realize his worst fears by an examination of the interior
of this lodge. With this view, he advanced to the extreme point where
his person could be obscured in the shadow--a distance of six or eight
feet from the entrance. He darted forward, with an agility quickened by
the mixture of hope and fear, and found himself within the lodge. It was
empty. For a moment, the impassable nature of the savage was
overpowered, and he gazed around him with a look of despair; and a
shudder passed over him, that shook his strong frame as a leaf is shaken
by the wind. But despair could not bring relief, and activity and
courage only could retrieve the time that had been lost. Again he passed
the entrance, and with the same caution retreated to the place where he
had left his companion.
"They are gone!" he said.
"Gone?" exclaimed Ralph.
But at the same moment a yell was heard; and they beheld the Indians
darting from the fire towards the spot where Ichabod had been confined.
It was now too late; their only hope was in flight. A few moments was
left them, ere the Senecas would be upon their track; for the savages
would readily comprehend that the escaped prisoner would fly in the
direction of the cottage. Ralph and Eagle's-Wing hesitated for a moment;
the last hope of relief to the unfortunate prisoners seemed extinguished
by this premature discovery of the flight of Ichabod. They darted into
the forest, and rapidly ran in the direction of the _rendezvous_ which
had been agreed upon with their friend. Some little time elapsed, ere
they discovered that they were pursued; but another, and wilder and
fiercer yell from the Indians, denoted that some new discovery had taken
place, which had excited them still more. Had Ichabod been again
captured? That could not well be; as he had but a short time before left
them; and they knew that he did not intend to return again to the lodges
of the Senecas. A hope sprang to the heart of Ralph, that perhaps Ruth
and Singing-Bird had also escaped; and that the Senecas had but just
ascertained that these, the most prized of their prisoners, had fled.
But the hope was too faint, too weak, to revive his drooping spirits.
They were now conscious that they were pursued, and that their pursuers
could not be, at the most, more than a hundred rods behind them. It was
yet half a mile to the _rendezvous_; but they were both inured to
exercise; and they ran with an ease and freedom, that promised to keep
at least that distance between them and their pursuers. After the cries
of the Senecas which had first fallen upon their ears, had died in the
silence, occasionally was heard a wild shriek behind them; but at
length these entirely ceased. It was a chase of life and death--the
silence of the forest was unbroken by any sound save that of its own
music, answering to the gentle pressure of the wind; but they knew well
that this silence was owing to the caution of their unrelenting enemies.
They arrived, panting at the _rendezvous_. Eagle's-Wing darted into the
clump of willows, with the expectation of beholding Ichabod; but he was
not there. What was now to be done? Should they remain here, or continue
their flight towards the cottage? It was fully a mile distant; and yet,
were they to be absent, should the Senecas again attack it, as they
would be likely to do, in their present excitement, Barton and the negro
would, perhaps, be unable to defend it; and they, too, would fall into
the hands of the Senecas, from whom no mercy could now be expected. They
must continue their flight; it was the only course. A few moments had
been lost in this brief consultation; but the time lost had served to
give them new energy for flight.
They proceeded onward with the same rapidity; the shanty was passed; and
they reached the path leading from the cottage into the valley. They had
arrived within a quarter of a mile of the cottage, when they discovered
persons moving before them, in the same path in which they were
traveling. They relaxed their speed, and advanced with more caution than
they had yet observed. But, cautious as they were, their approach was
detected by the persons they had observed.
"Speak, or I fire!" shouted the stentorian voice of Ichabod.
"Ichabod!" exclaimed Ralph, who with Eagle's-Wing now rapidly
approached; and what was their surprise and joy, as they beheld with
their friend, both Ruth and Singing-Bird.
Hearty were the salutations, and joyful the greetings between the
re-united friends; but Ralph quickly explained the situation of matters;
and the fact that the Senecas must be within a hundred rods of them, at
least.
They had yet time to reach the cottage. Their flight was necessarily
slow; but the Indians must run at least two rods to their one, to
overtake them. This was great odds, under ordinary circumstances; but,
although Singing-Bird was more used to this species of exercise than
Ruth, yet even she was fatigued already; but the energy that fear will
give, even when the physical powers are over-taxed, supported Ruth for a
while. They were in sight of the cottage--it was not more than a furlong
distant, when Ruth, who had been partially supported by Ralph, to this
point, fell fainting into his arms. Yet sustaining her insensible form,
he still advanced rapidly towards the cottage. It was now evident that
some of their pursuers were close behind them; a fierce yell
communicated to them the fact, that they had been discovered; and a wild
scream from twenty throats a few rods more distant denoted that their
pursuers was rapidly overtaking them.
"I'll have a crack at that Injin any way," exclaimed Ichabod; as the
foremost Seneca came leaping towards them. Excited by the chase, he did
not stop to count the odds; but with upraised tomahawk, the Indian
rushed towards the flying group. Ichabod fired; and the scream of the
Indian denoted that the ball had taken effect. It had, at least, learned
him moderation; and he stopped leaning against a tree, awaiting the
approach of his companions.
They passed the grove--the cottage door was opened, and Barton advanced
to meet them. A moment more, and they had passed the threshold, and the
door was barred. At this instant, the pursuers came rushing into the
grove; and fierce and wild were the shrieks of anger, as they saw their
escaped prisoners shut from their view.
We will take this opportunity, while the reunited friends are exchanging
their congratulations at once more beholding each other in safety, to
narrate briefly the history of the escape of Ruth and Singing-Bird.
It has been said that Singing-Bird, by the use of a little duplicity,
had been able partially to deceive the Senecas. She had been able to
make Panther believe that when they had once reached the country of the
Senecas, beyond the lakes, she would yield to his wishes, and become his
wife. From the time that Panther had formed this belief, she was much
less carefully watched; and had such opportunities to escape, that
nothing but her ignorance of the place where Eagle's-Wing was to be
found, had prevented her from improving them. When Ruth was brought in
as a captive, and she had ascertained the precise condition of matters,
she at once resolved to fly, on the first opportunity. The same incident
which had formed the escape of Ichabod--the debauch of the
Indians--presented the opportunity she wished; and taking a favorable
moment, when the larger portion of the Senecas were gathered about the
fire, and the few who remained sober, were distributed as guards over a
much larger space than usual, she and Ruth issued from the lodge. They
passed the precise spot, which, but a few moments later, was occupied by
Ralph and the Tuscarora--and entered the forest. At first, excited by
the hope of liberty, and the fear of detection, they fled with a speed
which their strength and power of endurance would not allow them long to
continue; but as they began to feel the fatigue incident upon their
efforts, and as they were not able to ascertain that the Senecas had
learned their flight, they slackened their speed, and walked with as
much rapidity as the nature of the ground would allow. They endeavored
to keep a straight north-westerly course; and by doing so; they would
naturally reach that point on the river, which had been selected,
although unknown to them, by Ichabod and his friends, for a rendezvous.
They did, in fact, reach that particular spot; and were passing by it,
when Ichabod, who had just before reached it, to his exceeding surprise
beheld them, and at once presented himself, calling them by name, to
prevent the fear which they would naturally feel, had he suddenly shown
himself, when in the darkness, perhaps, they would not have been able to
recognize him.
He informed them of the fact that Ralph and Eagle's-Wing were then
engaged in efforts for their escape; and he debated for a few moments
with himself, whether they should remain at the rendezvous, and wait the
coming of their friends, or proceed towards the cottage. But the
consideration, that should Ralph and Eagle's-Wing be discovered, or
should the Indians ascertain the flight of himself and his companions,
their position at the rendezvous would be much less safe, encumbered as
they would be with companions whom it would be necessary to protect, and
who could not add to the means of defence, determined him to proceed;
and they set off immediately, in the direction of the cottage. The rest
of the story has been already told.
When the family and friends found themselves once more united in the
cottage, after the first hearty congratulations, they proceeded to
observe the dispositions made by the Indians; and to discover, if
possible, what might be their plan of operations. The grove by this time
was filled with enemies; and a few, even, had advanced upon the lawn
between the grove and the cottage; but they were soon recalled to their
ideas of safety and self-protection, by the discharge of the rifles of
Ichabod and the Tuscarora, not without effect. These more adventurous
Senecas, immediately retired.
All necessary and proper precautions were at once taken; but the Indians
made no movement that indicated an immediate attack. It was probable,
even, that the result of their former attack, might altogether
discourage them from a new attempt; but whatever was their intention,
they were careful not to give any intimation of it. Within the grove,
they were not, in the darkness, visible from the cottage, and it was
only after a number of hours had passed, without any indications of an
attack, that it was thought they would be left in peace for the night.
The proper precautions for safety were taken; and the over worn and
over-tasked defenders of the cottage sought a broken repose.