A BABY LOST AND RECOVERED
In the scouting of that morning Truman Flagg took an active part, and
he alone of all who were out discovered the trail of the fleeing
Ottawas. Following it far enough to assure himself that no unfriendly
forest ranger had run across it, he turned his steps in the direction
of the Seneca village. Here, although he was received with a certain
coolness, arising from his participation in the incident of the
previous evening, no affront was offered him, and he had no difficulty
in acquiring the information he desired. Thus he was able to report to
Major Hester, on his return to Tawtry House, that Mahng not only lived,
but was in a fair way to recover from his injury, and that by means of
swift runners the grievance of the Indians had already been laid before
Sir William Johnson.
This report was confirmed on the following day, by the appearance of a
delegation of Seneca chiefs, who brought a note from the governor, and
demanded that Major Hester deliver to them the Ottawa captive. Sir
William's note, though extremely courteous, was very firm, and
contained an unmistakable order for restoration to the Senecas of their
lawful prisoner. It also chided the major for interfering between
Indians, at a risk of disturbing the friendly relations between the
English and their Iroquois neighbors.
With the reading of this note an angry flush mantled the soldier's
bronzed cheeks, and he seemed on the point of expressing his feelings
in forcible language. Controlling himself with a visible effort, and
bidding Truman Flagg interpret his words, he replied to the chiefs as
follows:--
"Brothers: I have listened to your demand and find it a just one. The
talking-paper of the white chief bids me deliver to you a prisoner
known as Songa the Ottawa. The orders of the white chief must be
obeyed, as I would obey this one were it possible to do so, but it is
not. Listen. As I walked before my lodge, a stranger, whom I had
never seen, ran from the forest and fell at my feet. He was bleeding
from many wounds, and exhausted from long running. An enemy followed,
and sought to kill him; when my son, a little child, threw himself
across the stranger's neck and saved his life. Was not that a sign
from the Great Spirit that he wished the stranger to live? Could I do
less than was done by that little child? You know I could not. You
know that no Seneca warrior would allow a man to be killed who sought
his protection in such a manner. So I lifted this stranger and took
him to my lodge. At the same time I told his enemy that I would keep
him until an order could be brought from the great white chief for him
to be delivered up. Now you have brought that order, and, were the
stranger still in my lodge, I would deliver him to you; but he is not.
He left me that same night. How, I know not. He was sore wounded, and
was lodged in a secure place, but in the morning he was gone. I am
told that he is a medicine man of the Metai. May he not have been
removed by the magic of his circle? No matter. He was here and is
gone. You look to me for him, and I cannot produce him. That is all.
I have spoken."
A dignified old Seneca chief arose to reply, and said; "We have heard
the words of my white brother, and we believe them to be true, for his
tongue is not crooked. He alone of all white men has never lied to us.
He says the prisoner is gone, and it must be so. But it is not well.
Our hearts are heavy at the escape of so brave a captive. What, then,
will my brother give us in his place, that the heaviness of our hearts
may be lifted?"
"I will give you," replied Major Hester, "two guns, and ten red
blankets, twenty pounds of powder and fifty pounds of lead, one piece
of blue cloth, one piece of red cloth, and five pounds of tobacco. Is
it enough?"
"It is enough," answered the chief, while the eyes of his companions
glistened at the prospect of this munificent present. "But," he
continued, "there was a woman. What will my brother give for her?"
"Nothing," answered the white brother, promptly, "for she was not your
prisoner."
"Ugh!" grunted the Indians.
"There is also Mahng," continued the savage diplomat, whose rule of
action was that of his white colleagues in the same service; namely, to
give as little and get as much as possible. "What will my brother give
him to help the healing of his wounds?"
"I will give Mahng a handsome present whenever he shall come to receive
it, that there may be no bad blood between us," was the answer; and
with these concessions the Indians expressed themselves as well content.
The proprietor of Tawtry House kept his word in regard to the presents;
but Mahng never came to claim those set apart for him. Instead of so
doing, he sent word to Major Hester that no gift, save that of his
life's blood, would ever atone for the insult of that kick, nor wipe
out the enmity between them.
"So be it, then, if he will have it so," replied the soldier, with a
light laugh, when this was reported to him; but his wife turned pale
and trembled as she recalled the undying hate expressed by Mahng's
scowling face. Nor was the Ojibwa's threat an entirely idle one, as
the settlers discovered to their sorrow, when several of their cattle
were killed, an outbuilding was burned, and finally the major himself
had a narrow escape with his life, from a shot fired by an unseen foe.
Finally, these things became so annoying that Sir William Johnson
notified the Senecas to drive Mahng from their country, or hand him
over to the whites for punishment, unless they wished to forfeit the
valuable annual present, sent to them by their great Father of England,
an instalment of which was then due.
As the Diver was by no means popular in his adopted tribe, he was
promptly carried across the Niagara river, and forbidden ever to set
foot on its eastern shore again, under penalty of death. Having
performed this virtuous act, the Senecas moved eastward to the long
council-house of the Six Nations, which was located in the country of
the Onondagas, where they were to receive their presents and share in
the deliberations of their confederacy.
It was two months after the incidents above described, and several
weeks had passed without an Indian having been seen in the vicinity of
Tawtry House. So absolutely peaceful were its surroundings that the
vigilance of its inmates was relaxed, and during the daytime, at least,
they came and went at will, without a thought of insecurity.
This peace was rudely broken one morning by shrill cries from the
Scotch nurse maid who, an hour before, had strolled with her infant
charge toward the lake. She now ran to the house in an agony of
terror, and uttering unintelligible screams. It was at first believed
that the child was drowned, but finally the distracted parents gleaned
from the girl's half-coherent words that she had left him in safety at
some distance from the shore, for a single minute, while she stepped to
the water's edge for a drink. When she returned he had disappeared,
nor was there any answer to her calling.
For two days search parties scoured the surrounding forest, but without
avail. There was not an experienced trailer among them, Truman Flagg
being with Sir William Johnson at the Onondaga council-house. Toward
the close of the second day, while Major Hester and most of his men
were still engaged in their fruitless search, the heartbroken mother
walked listlessly to the place where her child had last been seen. She
had already been there many times, unconsciously, but irresistibly
attracted to the spot.
On this occasion, as she was about to turn back, there came to her ear
the cry of an infant. Like a tigress robbed of her young, and with
blazing eyes, the bereaved woman sprang in the direction of the sound,
and in another instant her child, alive and well, was clasped to her
bosom. He had been hidden beneath the low-spreading branches of a
small cedar, and she snatched him from a bark cradle, exquisitely made
and lined with costly furs.
Like one pursued by a great terror, she fled to the house with her
precious burden, nor would she permit one to take it from her until her
husband's return.
When they examined the child they found him without scratch or blemish,
save for a curious and inflamed disfiguration on his left arm, just
below the shoulder. Though this soon healed, it was long before its
mystery was explained; but when Truman Flagg saw it, he pronounced it
to be the tattooed mark of an Indian totem.