THE BURNING CABIN.
A dim, shadowy, phantom-like chain flitting silently through the forest
depths. A living chain, composed of human beings--at least in outward
semblance--bent upon an errand of bloodshed and death.
They pause at the edge of a considerable clearing, and gaze out upon
it. A rude log-cabin stands here at the foot of a good-sized hill. In
the darkness, it seems as though there were two buildings, but one is a
huge square bowlder. A mass of rock that has puzzled many to tell where
it came from. It gives a name to the cabin and its owners, "the people
of the lodge by the great rock."
The cabin is the one where we met the Stevens family. The human chain
is led by One Eye--Sloan Young, the half-breed heretofore alluded to.
He and his comrades have come here to perform their part of the bloody
plan, to further which the Indian, Bob-tailed Horse, had been sent to
gain admittance into the cabin.
"It is nearly time," muttered One Eye, in the Sioux dialect.
"Yes, the pale-faces are asleep before now," added one of the Indians.
"We will not wait any longer. Come, let us go," and One Eye entered the
clearing and glided stealthily toward the cabin that stood silent and
gloomy in the shadow of the hill.
The half-breed paused when beside the rude structure and uttered
a call; one common to that place and time of year--the cry of the
night-hawk. Then he stepped forward and pressed gently against the door.
To his surprise it did not yield. He again uttered the signal, upon
which the traitor was to throw wide the door, but still without the
desired result.
"The fool has drank fire-water until his brain is asleep! He has
forgotten his duty," angrily hissed the half-breed.
"It is growing late and our weapons are hungry for white blood. Let us
break open the lodge. They can do nothing," muttered the Indian who had
spoken before, who was evidently of higher rank than the others who
stood silently behind him.
"We can do it. One rush will overpower them. But remember--the young
squaw must not be harmed. She is _mine_--for my squaw," earnestly added
Young.
"It is well. One Eye shall have her," and then the chief spoke a few
words to his followers, who drew together and made a heavy rush against
the door.
It flew open so suddenly that one-half their number fell in a sprawling
heap upon the floor, half-way across the room. Then with wild yells and
cries Young and the chief sprung over their forms, and glared around
for their anticipated victims.
But where were they? Why did not their cries of wild alarm and terror
break forth upon the air? Surely there had been noise enough made to
awaken them from the soundest slumber!
Raging furiously, Young rushed into the second room, but silence met
him there, as well. He could no longer doubt the truth.
"A light--quick!" he snarled fiercely, in his rage speaking in English.
"They cain't all hev gone. Cusses on that drunken fool!"
A light was speedily struck, and applied to a heap of clothing that lay
upon the floor. As the blaze shot up, the interior of the cabin was
rendered visible. Here, as at Wilson's, the disordered furniture and
various articles strewn about the floor, told of a hasty and recent
flight.
The half-breed quickly ran through the rooms, and found nothing there
to wreak his fury upon. The loft, likewise, was empty. His anger and
disappointment was fearful.
Led by him the Indians procured lights and ran outside to find, if
possible, some trace of the fugitives. While some searched for a trail,
others sought among the brush and hollows along the hillside, in the
faint hope that the fugitives had sought shelter there.
A faint ruddy glow now appeared upon the sky in the south-east,
growing momentarily more vivid and clear. One of the Indians pointed it
out to Sloan Young, who replied with a diabolical grin:
"It is the work of Dusky Dick. He has had better fortune than we."
Then as if this sight had reminded him of it, the renegade ran to the
building and stirred up the dying fire, piling on clothes, bed-ticks,
furniture and every thing movable, that would burn. Then he retreated
once more, uttering a fiendish yell of delight.
Soon the flames burst through the open doorway, roaring and crackling
as though in high glee at thus being turned loose to work its will.
A torch was applied to the straw-thatched stables, and then as the
affrighted stock ran lowing or neighing around their corrals, the dusky
demons shot them down, uttering wild yells of diabolical exultation.
But the half-breed and his chief glided around, striving to decipher
the meaning of the many tracks that covered the ground. They were
moving toward the forest, where their own party had not so defaced
the ground with their trampling to and fro, when an unexpected sound
startled them.
It was a cry, long and unearthly, seeming like, yet unlike a human
voice. But if indeed one, then it must proceed from some person either
in agonizing pain or mortal terror.
Again and again it came to their ears, with increasing distinctness,
and even more startling than at first. And the dusky crowd glanced at
each other in mute alarm.
They knew not what to make of it. Wherever they turned, from that point
the horrible shrieks seemed to issue. If they looked, it appeared to
come down from the skies.
The savages ceased their work of barbarous destruction and gathered
together. They felt alarm, that was rapidly increasing, at they knew
not what.
The chief was scarcely less impressed, but Sloan Young did not exhibit
the same symptoms. His face was eagerly turned toward the blazing
cabin, through whose roof the flames were now ascending. Then as
another yell broke upon his hearing, he said:
"It is from the lodge! The pale-faces have hidden beneath it, and are
being _roasted alive_!"
The terror of the savages quickly gave place to emotions of anger, at
thus being cheated out of the coveted scalps. The heat was now too
intense for them to accomplish any thing in the way of releasing the
sufferers.
Then they started back with cries of wondering dismay. A shrill shriek
of fearful torture rung out, and then a figure sprung from the fiery
furnace and darted toward them; its arms flung wildly aloft, its
garments dropping in charred fragments from its limbs.
Then with another long-drawn cry, it sunk to the ground, almost at the
feet of Sloan Young. The half-breed bent over it, but shrunk back at
the horrible stench of burning flesh that arose from the body. Still he
had recognized the unfortunate, burned and disfigured though it was.
"It is Bob-tailed Horse!" he exclaimed, turning to the chief.
And such was the case. He had been cast down the pit bound and gagged,
as detailed, but soon recovered his senses. There he lay until he heard
the angry voices of his confederates above him, and heard himself
blamed for the disappointment.
He strove to cry out, but the gag had been firmly applied and his limbs
were useless. In striving to free himself, he rolled over upon his face.
Then he heard the ominous crackling above him, and the pungent smoke
that soon came to his nostrils, told him of a new and fearful peril.
And yet he was helpless to avert it. His bonds would not give, nor
could he utter even a groan.
The heat increased until the sweat streamed from every pore. The air
became so close and hot that he nearly suffocated. At every breath it
was like inhaling molten lead.
His prison became lighter, and he knew that the floor was being burned
through. And still he struggled to burst his bonds; strove in vain.
The skin cracked and shriveled up beneath the intense heat, and his
tortures were excruciating.
The floor above him was one mass of coals. Then cinders fell upon his
bare neck, hot and glowing. He shook his head, but the coal adhered to
the hissing flesh.
Another and another fell, until his body was literally covered with the
blazing sparks. Either the cords had been weakened by fire, or else the
torturing coals had given Bob-tailed Horse a fictitious strength, for
with one mighty effort he burst them asunder, and snatching the gag
from his mouth, uttered a wild cry for help.
His hair caught fire and blazed furiously about his face. His flesh was
fairly hissing beneath the heat, and it seemed as though he was one
mass of fire. He screamed and yelled with frantic fury.
He sprung upward and caught at one of the glowing sleepers. It broke
beneath his weight, and he fell back, covered with the hotly-blazing
_debris_. Again he sprung to his feet and essayed to gain the level
floor; and again he fell back, screeching--dying.
More of the floor crumbled away, and then he sprung upon the edge of
the narrow pit. With yet another cry, he fell forward upon his face in
the glowing mass of coals.
He tottered to his feet and rushed blindly forward, sinking nearly
knee-deep in the burning embers. He ran against the still standing logs
and staggered back; his eyesight was gone.
But he did not fall, and sprung ahead once more. This time he emerged
from the doorway, and then with a gasping yell, he fell to the ground.
And yet, after all this torture, he still lived. Though he had
undergone enough to have killed a half-score of men, the spark of life
still flickered faintly in his breast.
He knew he was among friends, and cried out for water. More from his
gestures, than aught else, he was understood, and Young hastened to
supply his wants. Not from motives of pity, but because he hoped to
gain some valuable information from the dying wretch.
The spring was close by, and a hatful of cold water was brought the
scarred and mangled sufferer. He drank it down eagerly and begged
piteously for more.
"Tell me first," said One Eye, in the Sioux dialect, "where are the
pale-faces?"
"Gone--water--water!" gasped the wretch.
"_Where?_" sternly cried Young. "Tell me all or you shall perish for
want of a drop of water. Tell me and you shall have all you wish."
"Gone to--over _there_," was the husky reply.
"To Wilson's?" asked Young, in English.
"Yes--young brave tell 'um--they go--run 'way--"
One Eye sprung to his feet with a peculiar cry. He had learned all he
wished.
"Water--water!" gasped the sufferer, but his plea was unheeded.
He could be of no further service to them. He might die a dog's death,
as he had lived a dog's life. What cared they?
"Come--there is no time to lose. We must hasten or they will escape
us yet. Follow me, and their scalps shall hang at our girdles before
another sun!" yelled One Eye, as he dashed away from the burning cabin,
closely followed by the savages, leaving the dying wretch as he lay, to
gasp out his feeble remnant of life in fruitless appeals for water!