A DELICATE AND DANGEROUS TASK.
Without using the broken language of the Mohawk scout, his mission may
be explained. While the conference between the Iroquois was under way,
he detected sounds that told him a canoe had arrived among
them--confirmed immediately after by the sound of the quarrel already
referred to. The instant he became aware of this, he resolved to obtain
possession of the boat and appropriate it to his own use. Every reason
urged him to do this. One of the most powerfully exciting causes was the
wish--natural to the white as well as the red man--to outwit his
enemies. To capture their canoe would be a brilliant winding up of the
shrewd escape he had made from the parties on the water and land.
Besides this, it had become plain that the only way to get across the
Susquehanna was by using a craft equal in every respect to those
employed by his enemies.
To venture out again in the scow would be to surrender to the Iroquois,
and, as sharp as was the Mohawk, he could not but wonder that they were
enabled, as it was, to get back after putting out from shore, with all
the chances so against them. He supposed the redmen would leave the
boat lying where it was, while they scattered up and down the shore to
keep watch for the fugitives, should they attempt to repeat the
embarkation. As the scow was moored near to where the canoe was drawn
up, it was to be expected that the Iroquois would hold that place and
its vicinity under close watch. This rendered the task of the Mohawk one
of the most difficult in the world, and all the more relished on that
account. Suffice it to say that he succeeded in reaching the spot, where
he found one of the best canoes of his experience resting lightly
against the bank. A further examination of the craft told the Mohawk
that the boat was his own, having been stolen from a place up stream
where he had left it, not suspecting it was in danger.
Lena-Wingo was rather pleased than otherwise to learn this, for
it was proof that, if he could secure possession of the little
vessel--abundantly able to contain all the party--he would have
the one of all others which he could manage with his own consummate
skill. The paddle was there, only awaiting a claimant. But in making his
reconnoissance, Lena-Wingo ascertained that an Iroquois sentinel was
stationed within a dozen feet, where he was using his eyes and ears as
only a redskin knows how to use those organs. It was necessary to get
the canoe from beneath his nose before there was any prospect of escape,
and the question was as to how this should be done.
The Mohawk, with his usual perception, saw that the boat could not be
entered at the point where it now lay, and he so informed his friends.
His plan was to move it some twenty feet or more down stream, where it
would be beyond the range of the sentinel's vision. That accomplished,
he looked upon the rest as a small matter. He instructed them,
therefore, to steal as quietly as they could for about the distance
named down stream, and there await him. This being understood, they
began the cautious movement, while he went back to the still more
difficult task.
It was an easy matter for the three whites to do as they were bid
without betraying themselves, and it was done in perfect silence, after
which they resumed their waiting, watching, and listening. When
Lena-Wingo reached the river-side again, he found the Iroquois at his
station, where he would be likely to detect the first design upon the
canoe. Then how was the latter to be used by the red scout? There was a
method that would have suggested itself to any one. That was the very
obvious plan of stealing up to the unconscious sentinel, and putting him
out of the way so effectually that he could never disturb them more.
The reason why the warrior hesitated to employ the method which his
enemies would have been only too glad to use against him was in
obedience to that strange forbearance in his composition, and which
rendered him reluctant to shed blood, unless in legitimate warfare.
There was not a particle of doubt that he could have stolen up to the
guard and dispatched him before he could make a single outcry or apprise
his companions of what was going on. This would leave the coast clear
for him to take the whites aboard and use his own leisure to reach the
other shore. But the scheme he had in his mind would leave the sentinel
unharmed, while its after effect would be almost equal to death itself.
This plan was to steal the canoe away without attracting the notice of
the Iroquois--a proceeding which would be such a disgrace to the warrior
that he was likely to fare ill at the hands of his comrades, who were
exasperated over the failures already made.
His course of action being decided upon, the Mohawk went at it with his
accustomed caution and promptness. His rifle had been left in the hands
of Ned Clinton so that his arms were untrammeled, and he entered the
water a short distance below where the boat was lying against the bank.
Fortunately, the stream was deeper than he anticipated, rising to his
waist when he was within a yard of the land. This gave him the facility
he desired, as by stooping he was able to hide all but his head, which
was so placed that the canoe, resting high upon the surface, was brought
between him and the sentinel. This concealed him from the sight of the
warrior, and gave him the shelter so indispensable. It then required but
a minute to make his way through the water to the stern of the canoe,
which he cautiously grasped.
All depended upon the skill with which he managed this part of the
scheme. If the Iroquois should suspect any such attempt, the suspicion
was sure to defeat it. After placing his hand upon the rear gunwale, he
paused for fully a minute and listened. The stillness remained
undisturbed, and it looked as if the way were clear for the daring
attempt. At the very instant that Lena-Wingo began to exert a gently
increasing pressure, his keen sense of hearing told him the sentinel was
moving, and the scout paused before the frail boat had yielded to the
force.
The Iroquois was approaching the canoe, as if he suspected mischief.
The boat itself was no quieter than the Mohawk, as he listened to the
advance of his enemy. He could tell what the latter was doing as well as
if he were looking directly at him. He knew he was picking his way to
where the boat was lying, and a minute after, had paused within arm's
length of the same. There he stood while the Mohawk awaited his next
move.
If the sentinel should step into the craft, it would show that he
intended to look over the stern, in which case the Mohawk held himself
ready to sink below the surface, coming up so far out in the stream that
he would be invisible. But if the Iroquois really suspected any such act
upon the part of the great enemy of his tribe, his fears were removed by
the utter silence. After waiting a little longer, he returned to his
former position with the same caution and silence as before. Lena-Wingo
hardly paused until he was out of the way, when he drew a little harder
upon the stern, and felt it slowly yielding to the force. A few more
minutes of undisturbed action, and he was sure of having the canoe just
where he wanted it!