For a single minute Mr. Brainerd was on the point of following in the
footsteps of Fred, and making a break for freedom: that was at the
height of the general confusion, when the majority of the Indians
started in pursuit.
Possibly such a prompt course might have succeeded, but he allowed the
critical moment to pass, through fear that some additional cruelty would
be visited on the heads of those whom he left behind.
When Aunt Peggy resumed her culinary operations, the patriots sat down
again on the log, excited and fearful that the events of the last few
minutes would precipitate the crisis they had been dreading for hours.
Habakkuk McEwen was alarmed, but he could do nothing more than give
expressions to his sympathy for the victim of the old lady's wrath,
while he regretted, with an anguish which cannot be described, his
failure to get away with Fred Godfrey, who, as it seemed to the New
Englander, was the born favorite of fortune.
"Thank God!" was the fervent exclamation of Mr. Brainerd, as he
compressed his lips, "Fred is beyond their reach."
"Are you sure of that?" asked Maggie.
"Sure of it!" repeated her parent, turning his gaze on her, while he
smiled grimly. "Of course I am. When he escaped the clutches of Queen
Esther to-day he had no darkness to help him, and the rascals were at
his heels. Yet he got away safely, and he never would have fallen into
their hands again but for his anxiety to help us. Now he is out there
somewhere in the woods, where it is as dark as Egypt, and do you suppose
he is the fool to allow them to take him again? Not by a long shot."
Maggie was immeasurably relieved to hear these words of her parent,
which, it may be said, removed every fear for her brother from her
thoughts.
"But, father," she added, "what can he do, with his arms bound?"
"Faugh! what's that? We are tied with green withes or vines that hurt
like the mischief, but it will take only a few minutes to rub them
against the corner of a stone or rock and separate them. Have no fears
about Fred," continued her father, "these red skins can whoop and yell,
and howl and crack their heels together, but they'll never have another
such a chance to scalp Fred Godfrey as they had a little while ago."
Relieved of this dread, Maggie's anxieties were centered upon her
friends.
Her heart bled for her father, who sat as proudly upright and defiant as
though at the head of a brigade of men; but she could only pray and
utter brave words, in the hope of cheering him.
Poor Eva was so terrified that she cried continually. She clung to her
beloved parent, and, fortunately, as yet none of her captors made any
objection. She was determined to stay by him to the last.
The American Indian admires bravery as much as does his civilized
enemy, and it needed no student of human nature to see that the few who
remained were as much disgusted as amused with the sorry figure cut by
their Tory leader in his affray with Aunt Peggy Carey.
This was proven by their refusal to interfere, and by the grins that
appeared among them when the comedy was going on. But they were under
the leadership of the same Tory, and, when he came stumbling back from
his fall over the log, and the lady resumed culinary operations, the
Senecas became as owlishly glum as seems to be their nature.
They were helped in this feeling by the flight of Lieutenant Godfrey,
the prisoner most prized. As it was, the entire party came near starting
for the young man, but, unfortunately, they checked themselves in time
to prevent a stampede on the part of the rest of the captives.
Jake Golcher, as we have said, came back dazed and pretty well subdued.
A great deal of his straggling hair had been removed by Aunt Peggy, and
his countenance gridironed by her vigorous finger-nails.
He dropped down in a collapsed condition at one end of the log, removed
from the captives, who, like the Indians, looked at him askance, half
disposed to laugh outright, despite the alarming danger.
In the mean time, Aunt Peggy was broiling the slices of tender pig with
such care that she had a couple finished.
"There," she exclaimed, as she tossed the two in the direction of the
Senecas, "I like to see hog eat hog, and you might as well begin."
The facetious red men scrambled, like a lot of school-boys after a
handful of marbles, and had they been so many wolves, the food could
hardly have disappeared with greater celerity.
Paying no attention to the Tory, who sat on the fallen tree with his
head drooping forward and his eyes fixed on nothing, the warriors
started a curious scene.
Approaching quite close to Aunt Peggy, they crowded and pushed each
other, eagerly waiting when she should be ready to fling them the prize
for which their stomachs yearned.
All were on their feet, and their black eyes, and quick, fidgeting
movements, showed that their souls were in the business, or fun, as it
might be termed.
There can be little question that, incredible as it may seem, the action
of Aunt Peggy had rendered her somewhat of a favorite with the Indians.
It is just such people who admire the vim and bravery of any
one--especially when not expected.
There can be no means of knowing, and yet it is safe to suspect, that
the most reverential of these Senecas was the warrior who had received
such a ringing slap in the face when he dared to touch his painted lips
to the virgin cheek of Aunt Peggy.
Such is human nature the world over. The red men laughed and tumbled
about, as they scrambled for the bits of meat, while even Aunt Peggy's
features relaxed into a grim smile, when she looked upon the amusing
performance.
It was no more than natural that as she had gone up in the estimation
of these dusky warriors, the one who had been vanquished sank
correspondingly low.
Strange complications might result from this condition of affairs.
Perhaps a dozen or more slices of the pig were broiled and tossed among
the struggling red men, by which time their appetites were so well
attended to that they lost a great deal of the vigor with which in the
first place they scrambled for the food.
But during this same time, which was only a few minutes, Jake Golcher
was rapidly regaining a correct idea of the situation, and it was not
long before he raised his head and surveyed the scene with interest.
He straightened up and watched them a brief while, when the stinging
scratches on his face reminded him of the episode in which he had cut
such a sorry figure.
"She beats ten thousand wildcats," he muttered, glaring at Aunt Peggy,
who just then was smiling at the efforts of the Indians to seize the
slice of young pork she tossed toward them.
"I don't understand how it was she knocked the spots out of me in that
style; it must have been her awful temper, and because she come at me
afore I knowed anything about it."
Very probably the causes named had much to do with the result.
"Why didn't some of them Senecas pull her off? It's just like 'em to be
pleased with it, and I'm sure the rebels busted themselves with laughter
to see me catch it."
Jake Golcher seemed to be quite correct in gauging the feelings of those
around him.
Sitting on the fallen tree, he muttered:
"These warriors have all been put under me, and they've got to do what I
tell 'em to do; we've played the fool too long in sparing 'em. They
ought to have been put out of the way before this. Let me see--I'll fix
it this way."
He first looked at Aunt Peggy, toward whom he felt a hatred
inconceivable to any one not in his situation.
"I'll settle with _her_ for this; it will be just like the Senecas to
refuse to burn her at a tree, because she is such a she-panther; but
I'll give her a touch of the knife myself, that will prevent her ever
pulling out half my hair agin.
"I'll keep the two gals there, for they'll stick together, and I'm bound
to bring that proud Maggie Brainerd to terms. If she'll do the right
thing by me I'll let up on her father that I hate worse than p'ison. As
for that long-legged Habakkuk, I don't know what to think of him; it may
be he's one of us, though I have my doubts. I'll wait and see; but won't
I level things up with that 'ere Fred Godfrey? Wal, I should rather
guess so. I'll make sure he's out of the way. I s'pose he's sittin' over
there wondering when his turn is comin'. He won't be kept wondering
long."
Wishing to gratify his nature, he leaned forward and peered around Mr.
Brainerd to see how Fred Godfrey was taking it.
But he failed to discover the young man.
Making sure he was not on the log, Golcher rose to his feet and stared
here and there in a hurried search for the youth.
He was invisible, and, with a vague fear, the Tory strode to Mr.
Brainerd.
"Where's that son of yours?"
"Well, sir," was the response, "I judge that by this time he's about
half a mile away in the woods, and safely beyond the reach of all the
warriors and Tories that ever had their hair yanked out by an elderly
lady not in the enjoyment of very rugged health!"