A FRIEND.
In a short time the whole body of Indians were awake and astir. The
morning meal was soon prepared and hastily eaten, and they set forward.
Leland found that his wound was much better, and he traveled without
difficulty. The savages took a southerly direction, and appeared to be
journeying toward the destination of those who held Rosalind.
Their march continued without interruption until noon, when they halted
for a couple of hours for rest and food. For the first time, George
partook of some, and felt in a more hopeful frame of mind. Zeb was as
usual, and continued quarreling and abusing and threatening every one
within his reach.
"If dis isn't shameful, treating a pusson like me in dis way. I's sorry
dat I ever come wid you. I 'spects ebery bone in my body is broke in
pieces."
"You said last night that they dare not touch you," interrupted Leland.
"Well, dat's a subject dat you can't understand, and I haven't time to
'splain it. Dey're perwoken, anyhow, and dey's agwine to cotch dar pay
some ob dese days."
Consoled with this reflection, Zeb kept steadily upon his way, seemingly
as happy as a person could be when laboring under a slight provocation.
No further words passed between him and Leland for a considerable time.
The latter was busy with his own thoughts, and began to feel the
fatigues of their long-continued journey. They had set out at an early
hour, and had halted only at noon. The traveling was very difficult at
times, often leading through tangled underwood and swamps, where a
person's weight bore him deep into the mire; and now and then some
sluggish, poisonous serpent crawled from beneath their feet, or hissed
at them from some decayed tree.
About the middle of the afternoon they paused upon the banks of a stream
of considerable size, which was a tributary to the Big Sandy. Though
broad, it was not deep, and could be easily forded. The water flowed
quite swiftly, and being perfectly translucent, the bottom could be seen
from either shore.
Here the Indians exhibited their usual cunning and foresight. During
their journey, they had proceeded in "Indian file," permitting their
prisoners, however, to walk after their usual manner. The reason for
their adopting the caution mentioned with themselves, was more from
habit than anything else. Although suspecting they might be pursued, yet
they had little fear of an enemy, and omitted, as we have seen, to
employ a sentinel at night.
One of the savages stepped into the water, and, taking a few steps, was
followed by another, who placed his feet upon the stones, in the tracks
that he had used and made. Thus each one did until Leland and Zeb were
driven in and warned to do likewise. The former had no difficulty in
obeying, but the latter, either through mistake or design, made several
provoking blunders. He seemed to use his utmost endeavors to step into
the tracks of those before him, but instead of succeeding, was sure to
place his foot a good distance from it; and losing his foothold when
about in the center of the stream, came down with an awkward splash into
the water.
"Gorra!" he exclaimed, regaining his position, "dat fish pulled awful."
The savages nearest cast threatening looks toward him, and he reached
the shore without further mishap.
At about sundown the party came to a halt, and a fire was started.
Leland and Zeb found themselves in the same condition as upon the
preceding night, with the exception that a closer surveillance was kept
upon their actions. George partook sparingly of supper, while Zeb's
appetite was as insatiate as ever. A guard was stationed as soon as it
was fully dark, and the Indians appeared disposed to amuse and enjoy
themselves until a late hour. One of their number, with a hoarse,
guttural "Ugh!" approached the negro.
"You needn't come here," ejaculated Zeb, divining his intention. The
savage paid no attention to him, but continued approaching. Had the
negro been free, he might have offered resistance and occasioned
considerable trouble; but besides having his arms bound; his legs were
joined at the ankles and he was thus rendered helpless.
"Plenty wool," said the savage, placing his hand upon his head. He made
no answer, but glanced furtively and suspiciously at him. "Nice, good,"
he added; then closing his hand, gave a vigorous jerk.
"Lord help me!" screamed Zeb, rolling over in helpless agony.
"Poor fellow," repeated the Indian, approaching him and rubbing his
back, after the manner which a celebrated horse-tamer advises. Then,
watching his opportunity, he seized another quantity and pulled it
forth. To his surprise, this elicited no remark from his victim, and he
repeated it.
This time he succeeded no better than before.
Zeb was lying upon his back and staring at his tormentor in unspeakable
fury. The Indian, still determined upon amusement, again approached. Zeb
remained motionless until he stooped over him; then bending his knees to
his chin, he gathered all his strength, and planted both feet in his
chest, throwing him a dozen feet. The savage groaned and doubled up in
his agony, and gasped spasmodically for breath.
"Dar, how does dat set on your stummich? Yah! yah! dat's fun!"
Although this for the moment amused the others, yet it likewise excited
their anger, and there is no telling what the end would have been, had
not their attention been suddenly called in another direction. This was
occasioned by the arrival of a stranger among them.
Leland gazed at the new-comer, and saw a tall, powerfully-built and
well-shaped savage stalk boldly forward toward the fire, and exchange
salutations with those seated around. All regarded him suspiciously at
first, yet his boldness and assurance seemed to disarm them, and room
was made for him. The pipe was passed to him, and taking it, he smoked
several minutes in silence, during which time he seemed unconscious that
the eye of every one was bent upon him. Having finished, he turned and
passed it to the one nearest him, then gazing thoughtfully for a few
moments in the fire, commenced a conversation with the chief. He spoke
their tongue as correctly and fluently as any of them, which served to
disarm them still more. He stated that he had been out with a couple of
Indians, scouring the country for prey, when they were set upon and
pursued by two hunters, who at the first shot killed his companion. He
succeeded in effecting his escape after a hot pursuit of nearly a day,
and encountering a trail which he supposed to be his friends', he
followed it up and found that he was not mistaken.
On hearing this recital, several of the savages appeared to suspect that
Kent and Leland were the two to whom he referred, and directed his
attention toward their captives. The savage stared wonderingly toward
them for a moment, and slowly shook his head. He had never seen either
before.
Although none of the Indians could show any reason for suspecting their
visitor, except his strange arrival among them, still they were not
reckless and foolish enough to leave him to himself, or to permit him to
depart. Besides the two who were stationed at a distance as sentinels,
one remained awake to keep an eye upon his movements. Yet this
precaution was useless; for to all appearances, he slept as deeply as
any of them, and was among the latest who awoke in the morning.
Leland fell asleep about midnight, and gained a few hours of undisturbed
rest. In the morning he was considerably refreshed, and had it not been
for the awful doom that threatened him, would have possessed a joyous
fund of spirits. His wound, which had been only an ugly flesh one, had
ceased to trouble him, and he experienced no pain except from the
ligaments that bound him. As he increased in strength, these were
increased in number and tightness, until his limbs swelled and pained
him more than his hurt.
It is the same with the body as with the mind. The sorest affliction
that can visit us will not occasion half the murmuring and discontent
that the petty annoyances and grievances of every-day life do. Could the
pain which harassed Leland, and in the end nearly drove him frantic,
have been concentrated into a few moments, or even into a half-hour, he
could have borne it without a murmur; but it was the continual,
never-ceasing, monotonous length of it that troubled him.
Several times in the course of their journey, Leland was upon the point
of beseeching his enemies to kill him at once, and end his misery; and
had he reason to believe that they would have gratified him, he would
not have hesitated a moment; but such a request would have been useless.
At noon, as usual, the party came to a halt, and a couple proceeded to
bind Leland to a tree. During the proceeding he broke the cords that
pained him so much, and they were replaced by others. The latter,
however, were much more lax, and he felt greatly relieved when they were
placed upon him.
As soon as he was secured to the body of the tree, the savage left him
and joined his companions. Leland closed his eyes as if to shut out the
terrible reality, and the dancing lights that flickered before him,
together with the hum that filled his ears, told him that for a moment
he had succeeded. But he was soon recalled to a sense of his situation
by the _zip_ of a tomahawk within a few inches of his head. Opening his
eyes, he soon comprehended the state of things. The savages were amusing
themselves by ascertaining who could send his tomahawk nearest the body
of their captive without touching him. The first weapon that had been
sent had missed his head, as we have said, by a few inches; but the next
was still closer, and Leland felt the wind of it, as it buried itself in
the solid oak by his cheek. He again closed his eyes, and fervently
prayed that one of their hatchets might sink into his skull instead of
the tree; yet there was not much danger of such an occurrence; for the
savages exercised perfect skill, and rarely failed of sending their
weapons to the very point intended.
[Illustration: The savages were amusing themselves by ascertaining who
could send his tomahawk nearest the body of their captive without
touching him.]
Leland opened his eyes as a tomahawk came fearfully close to his
forehead. He wished to see who had hurled it. He soon saw that it was
the strange Indian, who was approaching to withdraw it. It was buried
deeper than the others; and as the savage placed his hand upon it, it
required considerable of an effort to extricate it. While doing so,
Leland heard the following words whispered by the stranger:
"Don't be scart, George; it's Kent Whiteman that has got his eye upon
you."
These words came near proving fatal to both. They so startled Leland
that he could not prevent himself from betraying somewhat his emotion
and excitement. This was observed by a savage near at hand, who
approached to satisfy himself of the cause. Leland, suspecting his
motive, repeated the action and accompanied it by a shudder, as though
the scene which was being enacted had overcome him. This satisfied the
wily Indian, who retreated and joined the others.
Hope was again awakened in Leland's breast--painful hope, that increased
his doubts and fears--hope that drowned the torture that beset him--hope
that sent the life-blood coursing rapidly and hotly through his veins,
and increased the charms which life had held out to him.
Leland was shortly released from his unenviable situation, and Zeb put
in his place. The negro made no threats or declaration, but submitted to
the trying ordeal without a word. The scenes through which he had passed
had evidently had some effect upon him. He seemed to possess a faint
realization of the danger in which he and his companion were placed. And
yet it could not be said that he was really frightened, for he evinced
no fear of any of his enemies, and his silence had the appearance of
being occasioned by sullenness and apathy. He did not tremble in the
least, but gazed unflinchingly at the tomahawks, as they came revolving
and seemingly directed toward his head, and struck beside him.
Finding that they had about lost their power over their captives, the
Indians released Zeb, and permitted him and his master to lie down upon
the ground.
Leland could not prevent his gaze from wandering toward Kent now and
then, yet their eyes did not meet. The latter betrayed no interest
whatever in either of the captives, and seemed as indifferent to their
fate as any of the others.
The negro had no suspicion of the true state of things, and perhaps it
was best that he had not. He might have unwittingly betrayed it, and
Kent did not choose to warn him. The fact was, it could have done him
but little good at any rate; for Kent had determined to rescue Leland,
if possible, and leave Zeb for the present to shift for himself. The
white _man_ was the first upon whom they would wreak their vengeance,
and aside from the greater estimation in which his life was held, from
the very nature of the case, he required the first attention.