"And long shall timorous Fancy see
The painted chief and pointed spear;
And Reason's self shall bow the knee
To shadows and delusions here."
FRENEAU.
Deersfoot and Snake-tongue, with the two prisoners, after a short
distance, met the main body of the Senecas. Beyond the grove was a small
strip of partially cleared land, which was covered with a thick
green-sward. Here the Indians halted, and immediately held a council, in
which to deliberate upon the fate of their prisoners, and upon their
future proceedings with reference to the cottage. When the failure of
the negotiation was announced, the whole wrath of the Indians was
concentrated upon the unfortunate attorney and his companion. In their
eyes, the latter were answerable for all the wrongs which they fancied
they had suffered from the pale-faces and their Tuscarora ally at the
cottage.
Bagsley and the bailiff were placed in the centre of a circle of
warriors. Rogers maintained a sullen silence, and surveyed the hostile
countenances of the Senecas with a look of seeming indifference; but the
attorney, from the moment that the unexpected refusal of Barton and
Ralph to exchange him for the Tuscarora had shown him his imminent
danger, remained seemingly stupefied with fear. But, as he beheld around
him the assemblage of warriors, and a certain appearance of
deliberation, he began to recover the use of his faculties. Perhaps, he
thought that the act of deliberation implied a doubt of their actual
intention; or, perhaps, seeing that he might have an opportunity to
plead for his life, he placed some reliance upon his oratorical powers.
But, whatever was the cause, it is certain that, in his appearance, he
resumed a portion of his professional dignity of demeanor.
The warriors and their chiefs were assembled in council. Panther, as
principal chief, occupied the most prominent situation; beside him sat
Deersfoot and Snake-tongue, and two or three others, who were recognized
as superior to the great mass of the Indians. When the assembly had
finally assumed an appearance of order, the younger chief, whose name
was Bearsclaw, arose to speak. He had never yet gained a reputation for
oratory, and he assumed a modesty and humiliation that were proper to
his station.
"Brothers," said he, "you know my name--it is Bearsclaw; it is a name
which was given to me because I was thought to be strong in struggling
with my enemy. I did not deserve it: I should have had a smaller name. I
have not the tongue to speak; but I can tell what I think--I think these
pale-faces should live. I think that we should keep them prisoners a
little while, and then let them go. Shall I tell you why? They came to
us freely; we did not take them! they have not wronged us. Perhaps I do
not think right; I do not know but a little; but what I think I will
speak. I see that you do not like my words, and I am sorry that you do
not. If we kill them, we shall get into trouble. The pale-faces from the
settlements will come out on the war-path, and will ravage our hunting
grounds. I am not a coward--you have seen me in fight. My name is
Bearsclaw. I cannot speak much; but I can tell what I think. I have
spoken."
This speech was received in silence--a silence, perhaps, that implied
dissatisfaction. But Bagsley argued from it a favorable result; for he
thought a matter could not be predetermined, about which a chief had
spoken, as if there was doubt as to the propriety of the course that had
been threatened. When Bearsclaw sat down, Snake-tongue, as the chief
next highest in rank arose and said:
"Brothers, you have heard the counsel of Bearsclaw: he has a large name.
It is a great pity that a warrior with so brave a name, cannot be brave
in speech. I do not think as he does. I am an Iroquois--of the nation of
the Senecas. I have always been taught not to be afraid. Bearsclaw has
said that the pale-faces from the settlements will follow us on the
war-path. Let them come! We want to see them in the woods and fields. We
do not want to see them skulking behind walls and log houses. Let them
follow us into the woods: there is where I want to see them.
"I say that these pale-faces should die. They have been the cause of all
our troubles. If it had not been for their fire-water to-day we should
have tortured the brave that we tortured yesterday. He was a brave
warrior, and it would have done us good to have tortured him. But he
escaped; and how? The fire-water of these pale-faces made our young
warriors careless, and we lost him; and we lost the pale-face squaw, and
the squaw of Canendesha. We have lost, too, our pale-face friend; he has
gone, and no one knows where. He was lost at the same time with the
others. They have taken him and killed him. Should we let the
pale-faces, who have done all this, go and laugh at us? No--let them
die! They are not as brave as the warrior we had yesterday; but they
will make sport for our young warriors. We shall be sorry if we do not
take their scalps. We shall always think of it, and wish we had done it,
when we think of our young men who have been killed in these forests. I
have spoken."
He sat down amidst loud cheers. He was evidently on the popular side;
and the countenances of Bagsley and Rogers grew pale, as they saw the
effect of this speech. But there was some hope yet; only two of the
warriors had spoken, and, so far, the council was equally divided in
opinion. It was with the utmost anxiety that they waited for Deersfoot
to arise.
After the noise had subsided, and silence was restored, the latter arose
to speak. He stood next to Panther in the estimation of the Senecas; and
some there were, who preferred him to that chief, as a braver and more
cunning warrior.
"Brothers," he said in a tranquil tone, "we have come here to decide
upon two things. We are to say whether these pale-faces shall die, and
we are to say what we shall do about the pale-faces at the cottage. I
have no secrets; my heart is as open as my face. Snake-tongue has said
that these pale-faces are the cause of all of our troubles. May be this
is so; but I do not see it as he does. Our young men should not love the
fire-water of the pale-faces. If they had not loved it, then the
pale-faces could not have done us any harm. I do not know that they are
to be blamed. I want to think about it a little while.
"But the other thing I _have_ thought about. I do not want to think any
more about it. The pale-faces at the cottage have killed our young men.
They have made us ashamed, that so few pale-faces can escape from so
many Injins. I am so ashamed that my heart is sad; and it will not be
happy any more until we have taken their scalps. I wish to fight them
again. I wish to see if we cannot burn down the cottage, and take them
all prisoners. I am sure that we can do it. If we cannot, I shall be
much more ashamed: and I shall think that the Senecas, like the Oneidas
and Tuscaroras, are squaws. I, for one will never leave the valley of
the Pleasant River, until I take with me, the scalp of one of those
pale-faces. The scalps of these pale-faces will not do me any good; for
they have not killed our young men. I want to wear in my belt the scalp
of the enemy who has taken the scalp of a Seneca. Until that is done, I
shall always be ashamed.
"Let these pale-faces live until we have attacked the cottage. If we
take the scalps of our enemies there, we shall have taken enough; and we
shall not want any more. If we do not get them, then we will think about
these pale-faces. I have spoken."
This speech, which had touched the hearts of the Senecas with shame, and
kindled in them a wild hope of revenge, was received with shrieks of
delight. In the direction which it had given to the thoughts of the
Senecas, the prisoners were, for the moment, forgotten; and the counsel
of Deersfoot would doubtless have been acquiesced in, had it not been
for the fact that Panther did not share the general enthusiasm. When
this was noticed, his more particular adherents at once become silent,
and waited to take their cue from him. He was about to arise, when
Bagsley, who had also become much excited by this appeal of Deersfoot,
in his favor, and who was unable any longer to maintain silence, deeming
this the favorable moment to make a finish of the "case," exclaimed,
assuming as much of a forensic position and demeanor, as his connection
with Rogers would allow:
"If the Court please, gentlemen of the--Council; for I may denominate
this respectable body, a Court, while it is actually sitting in _banco_,
according to the peculiar laws by which it is governed--I have listened
thus far, to this summary trial--a trial which, I may say, is
unrecognized by any statute of which I am cognizant--with a high opinion
of the ability and learning with which it has been conducted. But, as a
prisoner on trial for his life, I respectfully submit, whether I have
not the right to ask that this trial shall be conducted according to
some recognized form. I have as yet seen no bill of indictment; I have
not been called upon to plead; in other words, I have not had the
privilege of alleging my innocence upon the record I have not been
confronted with witnesses--therefore, in a legal point of view, I may
consider this whole proceeding as _coram non judice_ and void, and of no
binding force whatever. According to the law of the land, as generally
understood, I am entitled to all of these rights. I, therefore, upon
these grounds, to say nothing about many other points which I consider
equally conclusive, wish to raise the question of jurisdiction. I could,
doubtless, make a motion in arrest of judgment, _non obstante
veredicto_; but a question of jurisdiction can be interposed at any
time. I therefore respectfully submit, whether, according to the advice
of my friend, Deersfoot, a _nolle prosequi_ should not be entered."
"Bearsclaw has presented the case upon somewhat different grounds, but
he arrives at the same conclusions. He alleges that we are guilty of no
offence. He is correct, not only in fact, but as matter of law. It is a
principle of the law, originating in a benevolent idea of mercy, that a
prisoner is to be presumed innocent until he is proved guilty. I rely
upon this principle, and I hope the court will make a note of it. On
examination, it will be found to be a principle admirably adapted to
Indian jurisprudence. Upon all of these grounds, I insist that Mr.
Rogers and myself should be discharged."
At the conclusion of this speech, Rogers, who had listened with great
pleasure, and who had a high idea of his friend's eloquence exclaimed
with a gesture that lifted the attorney at least a foot from the ground,
"Them's my sentiments, and they are good law anywhere."
The Indians had listened to this voluble speech of the attorney with
mingled feelings of amazement and disgust. They could comprehend
scarcely a word of the discourse, but its general tenor they understood;
and that was, that he was begging for his life. If there is anything in
the conduct of a prisoner which removes from an Indian all idea of
mercy, it is an exhibition of cowardice, or a desire to escape torture,
except by force or stratagem. The current which had set in their favor,
on the conclusion of Deersfoot's speech, was effectually checked; and
all that was now wanting, was Panther's approval, to decide them in
favor of putting the prisoners to immediate torture.
Panther arose, and the assembly immediately became silent.
"Brothers," said he, "you have heard the words which have been spoken to
you. It is for you to say which are wise, and which are foolish.
Bearsclaw, Snake-tongue and Deersfoot have all told you what they think.
The pale-faces, too, have spoken to you. You have heard their words. I
think with Deersfoot, that we must have the scalps of the pale-faces at
the cottage, and the scalp of Canendesha. There is no warrior here that
does not say so. We have thought so from the first. It was not a new
thing with Deersfoot; you have all thought so. That is not the matter we
have come here to talk about. We should be ashamed to talk about it. We
know what we will do.
"I say let these pale-faces die. They do not deserve to live. They are
bad men--they are bad even among the pale-faces, and the pale-faces hate
them. They are like snakes, and have forked tongues; they do not tell
what they think. They lie in the grass, and bite at the foot of the
unwary. Even the pale-faces hate them; but they are worse to the Injins
than they are to the pale-faces; for they steal away our
hunting-grounds. Why should we let them loose to lie like snakes in the
grass and bite at us? Bearsclaw says that they came to us, and that we
did not take them on the war-path. That is true; but they came to us
with forked tongues, to get away our prisoner; and I do not know but
that they did get him away. They came, and he is gone.
"If we keep them prisoners, we shall have to set some of the warriors to
watch them. That we ought not to do; for we shall want all of our
warriors to-night. I have said more than I meant to say. They are not
worth talking about; they are not braves that will laugh at the torture,
and please our ears with harsh words. They are cowards that will cry and
faint. Such men are not fit to live. Let the pale-faces die."
This conclusion was received by the Senecas with shouts of savage
exultation. The unfortunate prisoners quailed beneath the fiery glances
of their enemies. The attorney endeavored to speak, but his utterance
failed--fear deprived him of the power of speech. The bailiff, however,
as the danger actually approached, grew firm and brave, and looked at
them with that peculiar gaze with which the officer looks into the eyes
of the thief.
The Senecas approached them for the purpose of preparing them for the
torture.
"Stand back, you rascals!" cried the bailiff. "You are now in my
bailiwick. Look me in the eyes, if you dare, and see if you can stand
the gaze of the law."
But notwithstanding this effort at overawing them, the Indians rudely
tore apart the thongs that bound the attorney and the bailiff together,
and dragged them into the woods south of the little clearing in which
they were.
We shall not attempt to narrate the disgusting and horrible scene; but
on that day, the bar of Tryon county lost a distinguished member, and
that bailiwick a faithful officer.
While these scenes of savage cruelty are being enacted, let us return to
the cottage. The presence of the Indians in their neighborhood, was
known to the inmates of the cottage; for, occasionally, during the
council, the ferocious yells which had cheered the "hit" of some
favorite orator, had been heard with distinctness. Neither Ichabod,
Eagle's-Wing, nor any one who was acquainted with the customs and habits
of the Indians, could doubt as to the nature of the proceedings, of
which they heard frequent indications. It was rendered certain, by the
fact that the Indians were about to take the lives of the prisoners,
that the cottage would be again attacked.
"With us five inside here," said Ichabod, "I'd risk all the Injins this
side of Tophet--provided they didn't set down in reg'lar siege, or set
the buildings afire. I reckon that last remark of mine will be found to
be a pretty good guess, as to the worst danger we shall run in this
attack."
"Other time, Seneca want prisoner," said the Tuscarora. "Didn't want
pale-face scalp, half so bad as now. They take 'em to-night, if they
can."
"I think," said Ralph, "we can guard against danger by fire; but,
nevertheless, we should not be so certain of it as to neglect any proper
precautions. The wooden portions of the building are very dry and if the
Indians can get fire upon the roof, we shall, indeed, run a serious
danger, for we could not show ourselves upon the outside, without
presenting fair marks for every Indian rifle."
"The house is well provided with water," said Barton. "We have a large
cistern, which is supplied by an unfailing stream that comes down from
the west."
"Yes, but the question is," said Ichabod, "how we're going to get the
water upon the roof, in case of necessity? The difficulty, in that
business, has been stated by the Captin. Now, I've got an idea about
managing the matter, if it comes to the worst; and that is, to leave the
cottage, and take to the water."
This idea took the whole party by surprise; and Barton, with a look of
incredulity, asked Ichabod how he supposed they should be able to leave
the burning building without being exposed to the watchful eyes of the
Indians.
"That's the p'int, Squire, that I've been thinking about; and
Eagle's-Wing and I have been talking it over, and you'll see we'll
manage it, in case of necessity. It's rayther risky, sartin; but I
calculate it ain't any more so than it would be to stay here, and be
burnt up. The best calculations will fail sometimes, in war, as well as
in business matters: but if them Injins should drive us to it, they'll
have to show more cunning than the sarpints have yet shown, to keep our
plan from working."
The manner of the escape--should it be necessary--with as many of the
details as could be anticipated, were agreed upon and arranged. Any such
anticipation was sufficiently melancholy, as, if they were driven from
the cottage, they would be much more exposed to the danger of capture
than they had yet been. On the conclusion of these arrangements, Ralph
found himself by the side of Ruth, who seemed to be suffering a great
depression of spirits, from the saddening forebodings which she had
overheard. She had become attached to her quiet home--she had acquired a
fondness for the objects by which she was surrounded; and she could not
think of their destruction, without a feeling of exquisite sorrow.
"If such be the will of Heaven," she said to Ralph, "we must submit."
"It is but an anticipation. Ruth, against which we must guard. We may
succeed in repelling this attack, as easily as we did the former. But it
is not to be disguised, that while on the previous attack, the great
object of the enmity of the Indians was the Tuscarora; now, _we_ as well
as _he_ are the objects; and they will resort to the method we have
anticipated, if possible."
"Would it not be better to escape at once? We could leave the cottage,
now, without danger; but during the attack, it seems to me it will be
impossible to do so."
"We should then certainly abandon the cottage to destruction, and
encounter dangers that now are only possible and not certain. No, I am
willing to trust to the plan suggested by Ichabod and Eagle's-Wing.
Although they have not given us the full details of it, I think I
understand it. We have, thus far, been signally successful, and let us
rely upon our good fortune a little farther."
"Say, rather, Ralph, upon God. It is His power, only, that supports and
protects us."
Ralph at once admitted the propriety of the correction. "In affairs of
the world, we use worldly terms. We speak of the protection we receive
from our good fortune, without intending to imply any doubt of the
protection which we receive from Heaven."
"Would it not be better, Ralph, at all times to acknowledge, by a proper
use of words, our dependence upon Him from whom good or bad fortune
proceeds, than only to acknowledge the results of circumstances?"
"I do not doubt it. Let us rely upon His assistance, then," said Ralph.
"We shall certainly need it, to-night."
The sun was already sinking behind the western hills, into a rich mass
of crimson clouds. The night approached with a melancholy step, and
every heart in the cottage beat with anxiety for the first sound that
should indicate the presence of the enemy. The aspect of nature was calm
and lovely. The setting sun wore the look of yesterday; familiar objects
gazed brightly in the golden garments which were woven around them; the
long shadows pointed eastward, towards the coming to-morrow. But who can
foretell, from the look of this day, what shall be the appearance of the
next?