THE MAIDEN’S DOOM.
We will now go back for a few minutes, and note how it was that Ruth and
her friends fell into the clutches of the savages.
It will be remembered that the scout told them to move slowly onward in
the direction they were going; while he and Ned Tapley attended to the
savages whom he had seen hanging in their rear.
These orders they had obeyed, keeping a sharp look-out about them for
danger, until the moment when they had been startled by the shots fired
by their friends behind them.
Ruth, in spite of herself, uttered a cry of terror at the sound, fearful
that one of the reports might announce the death of her lover.
“Hush!” exclaimed her father, warningly. “Be calm, Ruth. You know that
Dick warned us not to speak above our breath.”
They were passing now through a little thicket of evergreens, whose
branches were so thick above their heads that the rays of moonlight
could not penetrate to the earth.
It was as good a place as the savages could have selected for an ambush;
but that there was really danger there, not one of them suspected.
That, they were looking for in their rear, where the rifle-shots told
them that their friends had already encountered it.
Suddenly the settler, who was leading the way, recoiled as though he had
received a blow.
As if by magic, a savage sprung up before him, directly in his path.
The next instant a cry of fear broke from the lips of his wife and
daughter.
On either side the forms of a half-dozen savages sprung up so close to
them that they could almost have touched them by reaching out their
hands.
Unmindful of the hopelessness of their situation, the settler raised his
rifle and discharged it at the breast of the savage before him.
But the bullet went wide of its mark, for as he pulled the trigger, a
savage upon his right caught hold upon it, and attempted to wrest it
from his grasp.
But this he did not succeed in doing, and pulling it from the clutches
of the savage, the settler brought it down with such force upon his head
as to stretch him senseless upon the earth.
Another savage had sprung upon Peleg Parker, and with one hand had
grasped his pack on his back, while the other he entwined in his long
hair, and attempted to pull him to the earth.
But the Yankee had no notion of parting with the former, even if he lost
his hair, and drawing a pistol he endeavored to shoot down his opponent.
But by some mischance it exploded, before he had taken aim, and throwing
it to the earth he had recourse to his fist.
“Take that, you thieving varmint!” he cried, as he dealt him a blow
between the eyes, that would have felled an ox; “I’ll l’arn ye how to
hanker arter other people’s property.”
The savage went down like a log, but he had so good a hold in the hair
of the Yankee that he took him along with him, and they both rolled upon
the earth together.
Peleg struggled hard to rise; but before he could do so another savage
was firmly planted upon his breast.
Meanwhile Sam Wilson had been assaulted by three or four of the enemy
and was at last borne to the earth; and one of them, catching him by the
hair, circled his scalping-knife above his head as though he would rob
his victim of his scalp, even before he took his life.
But, with a cry for mercy, Ruth threw herself beside the savage, and
implored him not to do the fatal deed.
“Take my life, if you will,” she cried, “but spare my father. He has
never harmed a red-man, and do not have his blood upon your hands.”
It was Rushing Water himself to whom she appealed, though she did not
recognize him in the darkness.
“And what will the white maiden give if no harm shall be done to her
friends?” he said, in a low tone.
Ruth felt a ray of hope steal into her heart at these words.
“Any thing she has,” she replied. “If Rushing Water has not a heart of
stone, let no harm be done to any.”
“The will of the white maiden is law to Rushing Water. The lives of her
kindred shall be spared as she asks. But let her remember the promise
she has made. The chief will claim it soon.”
He spoke a word of command, and coming at that moment it saved the life
of at least one of them. An instant later, and the Yankee would have had
no further use for his pack in this world. An arm was even at that
moment raised to take his life.
“Do not save me by any such promise as you have made,” cried her father.
“Think what it is that the chief will require of you. There is but one
thing he desires, and that is to take you to his lodge. Let us rather
die where we are, than this fate should be yours.”
Ruth felt her heart sink like lead in her bosom. But her promise had
been given and she would not revoke it. Of what use would it be for her
to do so. She was completely in his power, and he would do with her as
he chose, even though she stood out against him. Now she had his promise
that the lives of her friends should be spared, and that was more than
she had hoped for.
At this moment there was the report of another rifle, and a bullet
whistled above their heads.
Our friends knew well it came from Ned’s rifle, and that he was rushing
upon his own destruction.
But there was no help for it. Even before they had a chance to think, he
had dashed wildly in among them, dealing blows right and left with the
breech of his rifle.
But his career was of short duration. Valiant as he was, he could not
successfully contend against such fearful odds, and in less time than it
takes to tell it, he was thrown to the earth, where his limbs were
secured in such a manner that he was entirely powerless.
His life would have been taken in an instant, had it not been for the
promise the chief had given to Ruth, and who eagerly reminded him of it
when she saw the fearful danger her lover was in.
“Thank God, Ruth, you are alive,” cried the young man, as he hopelessly
wrestled with his captors. “I was fearful that you all had perished.”
“But we are unharmed, Ned. The chief has promised that for the present,
at least, our lives shall be spared. Therefore, make no more resistance
as it will only be worse for us all.”
Sam Wilson heaved a groan.
“But she throws herself away, Ned, to save us. Better by far that we
never move from this spot. Oh! that I should have ever lived to see this
hour when my child sells herself to save the lives of her friends.”
Ned Tapley started up, and strained at the bonds that fettered his limbs
with all his strength.
“What do you mean?” he cried. “Ruth, what is it that you have promised?”
“Let the white maiden be still. Rushing Water will answer the
pale-face’s words. She is to be the bride of the chief. When the Indian
village is gained, she will go to his lodge. Let her pale-face friends
keep as silent as the dead if they would live. If they do not, the chief
may forget his promise and slay them now. The white maiden will be his
all the same.”
Our friends knew by the tone in which these words were uttered, that the
chief meant what he said, and that he would not hesitate a moment to
carry out his threats. Therefore, they thought silence on their part was
the best thing for them now. It was hard for the settler, or Ned, to
contain themselves, yet they saw that they must if they would save their
own lives. Something might turn up before the Indian village was reached
which would help them to make their escape. As yet the scout was free,
and they hoped he would remain so; for it might be that he could achieve
their deliverance. If man could do it, they knew he would.
Each silently prayed that he might make good his escape, instead of
coming to their assistance now. He could do no good at present, and
should he fall into their hands his doom was sealed at once. No power on
earth could prevent their taking summary vengeance upon him. The
Death-Dealer had sent too many of their braves to the spirit-land, for
them to spare him, should they once get him into their clutches.
The work of securing their captives had hardly been completed, when one
of them caught a glimpse of the scout surveying the scene before him.
His form was too well known to them; too strange and uncouth to be
mistaken, and a flight of arrows was at once sent in his direction,
while they bounded forward toward the spot where he stood. A parting
shot from him, which made one of them bite the dust, was what they
received in return, and then he fled away, while they followed on for
awhile, in what they knew, from past experiences, would be hopeless
pursuit.
Meanwhile those that remained behind carefully secured those of their
prisoners that as yet had remained unbound.
Peleg Parker submitted to his bonds with very ill grace. With his hands
bound tightly behind him he felt that he had not so good a hold upon his
pack as he could have desired.
In fact now it was at the mercy of the savages whenever they saw fit to
explore its mysteries.
That they would find an opportunity to do so sooner than he liked he had
no doubt.
He had first tried to coax and then to hire the savages not to bind him.
He was magnanimous enough to offer them two dollars “and the darndest
best chance to trade they ever had in their lives” to let him go, but it
had no effect upon their hardened natures.
They kept at their work as unconcernedly as though he had not been
talking to them as fast as his tongue could run.
At first it had been in a low tone, but as he found he made no
impression upon them, he kept raising his voice, until at last it became
a whining sort of a howl.
At last Rushing Water thought it was about time for him to stop, and
striding up to where he lay he shook his knife threateningly at him.
“Let not the pale-face whine like a licked cur,” he said. “If the chief
hears more, the coward shall have a knife in his heart.”
Peleg thought it best to keep quiet, though he was half tempted to ask
him how he would trade the knife he held in his hand for one that he
carried in his pack. But the moonlight was shining upon the face of the
savage and he saw a look in his eye which told him that it would require
but little to make him put his threat into execution.
None of them had been spared the bonds. Even Mrs. Wilson and Ruth were
secured the same as their male friends, though perhaps their bonds were
a little softer and not drawn quite so tightly. Evidently Rushing Water
did not mean that any of his captives should escape him through any
fault of his.
In less than half an hour, those who had gone in pursuit of the scout,
returned. As their chief expected they came empty-handed. None of them
were fleet enough to overtake the Death-Dealer. They had tried that game
with him before and had always failed. There was not a savage on the
river who could keep pace with him when he done his best.
It was now near daylight. A little longer and the short summer night
would be gone and the East would grow gray with the coming morn.
The night had been one of toil and excitement to both parties and they
felt the need of rest. But Rushing Water decided that they could not
have it here. No time should be lost in getting away from the
neighborhood of the settlements, where danger might be apprehended
should the whites get a clue to what had been going on that night. Once
at the Indian village in the stronghold of his tribe he would defy any
force that might be sent against him.
Therefore he gave orders for them to start at once, and closely
surrounding their prisoners so that there might be no loophole of
escape, they set forth upon the long, wearisome way that lay before
them.
Rushing Water walked by the side of Ruth and her mother. He did not mean
to leave sight of her who had cost him so much trouble.
To the great delight of Peleg, he was made to carry his own pack. One of
the savages tried it but found it too heavy for his comfort. But the
Yankee would have borne double its weight rather than to have been
separated from it.