The Indian Camp
I claim that it is nothing to my discredit when I say that there was a
great fear in my heart while we advanced at a snail's pace, after having
come to that point where we might reasonably expect the Indian sentinels
would be posted.
In the darkness, moving amidst the dense foliage, where it required the
utmost care to avoid betraying one's whereabouts, advancing blindly into
you knew not what peril, was well calculated to make even the most
courageous feel a bit timid.
At any moment we might literally stumble over a party of warriors in such
numbers that there could be no possibility of making our escape, and in
case we should come face to face with no more than four or five of the
enemy, it would be well-nigh useless to show fight, because of the
hundreds everywhere around who could be summoned to the assistance of
their comrades.
Before we had advanced an hundred paces, I became convinced that it was
impossible we should be able to reconnoitre the camp and return to the
point from where we had set out without being killed, or, what was worse,
taken prisoner, and yet, had I known for a certainty that such fate
awaited us, I would not have let Sergeant Corney know of my unwillingness
to follow him.
Sorely did I blame Jacob for having forced us into such a position of
danger, when there was little hope any good could be effected by our
coming, and more than once I promised myself that, if by any fortunate
chance I succeeded in arriving at Cherry Valley again, no one could tempt
me to leave it.
It was useless, however, to mourn over what could not be cured. We had
come there voluntarily, and, unless both of us were willing to write
ourselves down as cowards, must perform the task.
It was well-nigh midnight before we heard anything of the enemy, and then
a faint hum of voices in the distance told that Sergeant Corney had led
the way truly and wonderfully well. Never again would I say that he was
not thoroughly versed in woodcraft.
The old soldier gripped my arm to make certain I understood that we had
come near to the enemy, and then inch by inch we moved forward, halting a
few moments every time we incautiously caused a rustling among the
foliage.
[Illustration: "Three or four hundred Indians were dancing wildly around a
huge fire"]
How long that slow progress continued I cannot rightly say; but it seemed
to me as if the morning was near at hand when we were arrived, having
miraculously passed such stragglers, scouts, or sentinels as might have
been in the vicinity, at a point where we could have a view of this
particular portion of the encampment.
Three or four hundred Indians were dancing wildly around a huge fire,
while half as many more were feasting, preparing their own food by cutting
it from the carcasses of two oxen which lay near at hand, and broiling it
on the live coals.
I knew sufficient of savage customs to understand that, if there had been
any torturing of prisoners during the evening, such fiendish work was at
an end, and that which we were witnessing was but the ending of the
barbarous sport.
Now it was that I mentally thanked Sergeant Corney for having delayed so
long before starting, for it would have been agony indeed had we been
forced to witness the horrible spectacle of a white man suffering under
the knives and by the fire of these wolves in human form.
We remained there stretched out at full length on the ground, with no
possibility of gaining information which might be of service to us in the
future, ten minutes or more, and then, suddenly, I was forced to exert all
my will-power to prevent a scream of fear from escaping my lips, for what
was unmistakably a human foot had been planted directly upon my leg.
Like a flash, after I succeeded in restraining myself from giving an
alarm, came the knowledge, I know not how, that he who had stumbled upon
me was no less frightened than I, and, clutching Sergeant Corney's leg
nervously to attract his attention, I sprang upon the newcomer, believing
him to be some Indian straggler whom it was absolutely necessary we should
silence in order to save our own lives.
So quick had been my motions that the fellow had no opportunity to get
away, save at the cost of betraying himself to us, and by what seemed to
be the most fortunate chance, I succeeded, when leaping blindly forward,
in gripping him by the throat.
We went down together, I on top striving most earnestly to strangle him to
death, and he fighting quite as strenuously to throw off my hold.
Before one could have counted ten I began to realize that this stranger
who was at my mercy appeared quite as much afraid of making a noise as did
I, and involuntarily my grasp was loosened ever so slightly, for I
understood that had it been an Indian he would have done his best to
attract the attention of those near the camp-fire.
With this thought came the knowledge that I had beneath me one clad much
like myself, and not the half-naked body of such villains as marched in
Thayendanega's train.
Then it was, and just as Sergeant Corney came up to us, that I loosened my
grasp entirely in order to pass my hands over the stranger's face and
head.
There were no feathers, no daubs of paint, which should have been
apparent to the touch, and I whispered, with my mouth close to the
fellow's ear, while yet pinioning his arms in such a fashion that he could
not well move:
"Who are you?"
"A white man," came the reply, the words sounding thick and muffled
because of the squeezing which the speaker's throat had received.
Then like a flash came to me that which I should have suspected before!
It was my comrade for whom we had been searching that I was grappling
with, and, just as the old soldier knelt by my side knife in hand to put
an end to the struggle, I whispered, for the darkness was so intense that
I could not even see the face which was but a few inches from my own:
"Are you Jacob Sitz?"
"Ay; an' you?"
"It is the sergeant an' Noel, lad, an' right glad am I that we came to
know each other just as we did, else would your blood have been on our
hands."
Jacob apparently gave no heed to the close shave which had been his, so
great was the delight at knowing we were with him once more, and we three
sat with our heads close together in order that we might question and be
questioned without fear of betraying our whereabouts.
"Where have you been all this time?" I asked, and Jacob replied, softly:
"Hangin' around this camp. Twice have I come near bein' discovered, an'
of a verity I believed, when you clutched my throat, that this was the
last--the endin' of it all."
"Have you seen your father?" Sergeant Corney asked, and the lad replied,
triumphantly:
"Ay, an' had speech with him."
"Where is he?"
"In a lodge near Thayendanega's, an' until to-night there has been no
great danger he would be tortured, as I believe because of the sachem's
promise that he shall not be killed."
"How did you get to speak with him?" I asked, in surprise.
"Within three hours after leavin' you I was hereabout, an' saw him. That
night I crept through the village undiscovered, for even the dogs failed
to bark at me, I know not why, an' there talked with my father as I now
talk with you."
"If you got away, why could not he have done the same?" I asked, surprised
that Jacob should have succeeded in making his way among the lodges.
"I urged him to make the attempt, but he claimed that there was no hope we
two could leave the village undiscovered. First he was bound hand an'
foot, an', although I might have cut my way through the lodge to release
him from the fetters, he forbade it because of the risk, sayin' I must not
endanger my life on account of mother, an' insistin' that at some future
time escape would be more easy than then. He ordered me to go home at
once, providin' I could not find you, an' I would have done so this night
but for the battle of the mornin'."
"Why did that stop you?" I asked. "Surely you had no part in it?"
"No; but the savages were so infuriated that I feared even Thayendanega
himself would be unable to prevent the wretches from leadin' my father to
the stake, therefore I remained on watch. Three prisoners have been
murdered in a most barbarous manner, but yet he was left unmolested in the
lodge. Have you somethin' to eat?"
I took from my pocket all the food remaining, and the lad devoured it like
one famished, whereupon Sergeant Corney asked:
"Have you had nothin' to eat since we left you?"
"I gathered some roots an' berries, but not enough to satisfy my hunger."
"An' yet you would have stayed here longer in danger of starvation?"
"Ay, until havin' satisfied myself that father was as safe as one can be
who remains in the power of such as are encamped here. Did you come for no
other purpose than to find me?"
"Nothin' more," I said, not minded to let him know that if he could show
any reasonable chance of rescuing Peter Sitz it was our purpose to give
him aid.
"Where have you been all this while?"
"That is too long a story to tell now," Sergeant Corney interrupted. "If
the savages are not likely to do more than dance from now till mornin', we
may as well find a shelter in which to spend the morrow, an' then I'm of
the opinion that the three of us had best make tracks for Cherry Valley,
as Jacob's father advised."
As he ceased speaking, Sergeant Corney would have led us out of the
thicket; but Jacob whispered, softly:
"Not half a mile away is a small cave--no more than a hole in the
hillside, an' there we may remain hidden durin' the hours of daylight."
"Lead the way, an' we will follow," the old man said, in a tone of
command, and straightway Jacob did as he was thus ordered.
Knowing, as the lad did, very nearly where the Indians might be found, we
advanced with reasonable rapidity, until having come to the place of which
he had spoken.
It was indeed no more than a hole in the ground, and so small that when we
three were lying at full length inside with our heads toward the opening,
it would have been a very small cat who could have found a chance to lie
down comfortably with us.
Some bushes and a tangle of creeping vines hid the entrance most
admirably; but, after we were once inside, I questioned to myself whether
we had not been reckless in coming directly to this place without taking
precautions to cover our footprints, for, should a keen-eyed savage chance
to see our trail, there was good reason for believing he would follow it
up.
However, we were there, and the mischief might not be undone readily,
therefore I held my peace, saying mentally that if Sergeant Corney and
Jacob were satisfied with having taken no especial precautions, then of a
verity ought I, the least experienced in woodcraft of the three, be
content.
When Jacob had eaten all the small store of provisions which I gave him
without having apparently satisfied his hunger, he insisted on our telling
him what we had done since he left us, and I related the story much as it
is set down here, spending a full hour in the recital.
When I had finally come to an end, the old soldier proposed that as soon
as another day had passed we should turn our faces toward Cherry Valley,
for, after receiving the commands of his father, Jacob could do no less
than go home.
I understood full well that the lad would have encountered any danger or
suffered every privation rather than leave this place where his father was
held prisoner, even though there was little or no hope he could aid him;
but yet he did not argue against the plan, and thus was it settled that
when night came again we would start on our journey.
"Save for the fact that father himself insisted I should go, no one could
force me to leave here," Jacob said, after a long pause, and Sergeant
Corney added, soothingly, saying that which I question if he himself
really believed:
"You can do no better, lad. If Thayendanega has given his word to save
your father's life, so will it be, despite all the howlin' wolves in his
followin'. But if you should stay here and be discovered tryin' to rescue
him, there is little doubt that it would result in the death of both."
With that we fell silent once more, and I was right glad of an opportunity
to sleep.
Jacob insisted that the old soldier and I give ourselves up to slumber
while he kept guard, for he did not need the rest as much as we.
Therefore it was that I slept soundly and sweetly until a full hour past
noon, and when I awakened the sergeant was peering out through the leafy
curtain in front of the cave, while Jacob was enjoying his turn at sleep.
"Can you see the camp?" I asked, wriggling forward until my head was close
beside his, and then it was not necessary he should make reply, for we had
from this place of vantage a fairly good view of the red-skinned portion
of St. Leger's army.
It is true that the trees and bushes screened certain portions of the
encampment, but the greater number of the lodges were in a clearing, and
Sergeant Corney pointed out to me that shelter which Jacob had told him
was the one where his father was confined.
The Indians were lounging about lazily, some stretched at full length
sleeping, others gathered in little companies, squatting on the ground as
they smoked and talked, and not a few moving slowly to and fro; but never
one who appeared to have any business on hand.
There were both women and children in the camp, which struck me as being
odd, for when savages set off on the war-path it is not customary for them
to take their families; but I explained this peculiar state of affairs to
myself by the supposition that the women had been brought that they might
do the work, which is deemed unfitting a warrior.
"Jacob counts on payin' one more visit to his father before we start,"
Sergeant Corney said to me, when, having wearied with gazing at the scene,
I turned away.
"To what end?" I asked, with somewhat of irritation, for it did not seem
to me wise the lad should run the chances of capture when nothing was to
be effected by taking such risks.
"Only that he may speak with him."
"But it is folly!" I said, sharply. "It has been possible for him to go
into the village twice; but of a certainty it cannot be done many times in
safety."
"You are right, lad, an' yet how can we refuse him? Fancy if your father
was in the same tight place, an' ask yourself if, when about to turn your
back on him, perhaps forever, the desire to hold converse with him once
more would not be stronger than the fear of disaster?"
To this I could make no reply, as a matter of course; yet I was still
firmly convinced that it was a foolhardy venture. If there had been a
possibility of his doing the prisoner any good, then would I have said
that we would stay on until further efforts were of no avail. As it was,
however, Peter Sitz himself had said it was wiser for Jacob to go, and
surely he, the most interested and the most experienced in such matters,
should be the judge.
I held my tongue, even though rebelling against the scheme, because of
knowing that the lad was prompted only by love, and yet my heart grew
heavy within me, until I had become convinced that something of evil would
follow.
So disturbed was I in mind that it was impossible to close my eyes in
slumber again, even though knowing that my best preparation for the
journey would consist in getting all the rest I could.
Sergeant Corney had fallen into what seemed to me a moody silence; I
looked out now and then at the painted forms of those human wolves, who
would lay waste our happy valley, and wished most fervently that I had the
power to destroy them all with one blow.
When one has seen, as have I, women and children butchered in the most
fiendish manner which a wicked man can devise, he cannot consider
bloodthirsty the person who would, if he could, wipe out the entire race.
It would only be an act of mercy to the colonists, who lived in momentary
fear, not so much of sudden death as of barbarous torture.
Jacob slept until nightfall, and when he awakened the first thought in his
mind was to set off on his dangerous and useless venture; but Sergeant
Corney advised that he wait until the night was well advanced, and to this
I agreed, although chafing against the expenditure of time, because he
would but have ensured his own capture had he ventured among the wretches
while the entire encampment was astir.
We did not have supper for the very good reason that we had no provisions,
but buckled our belts a bit tighter, because already was hunger beginning
to assail us.
As we waited for the lengthening of the night, Jacob went over in detail
his experiences while Sergeant Corney and I were with General Herkimer,
and this served to make the time seemingly pass more swiftly.
The savages evidently had no fiendish sport on their programme for this
evening, most likely because of having exhausted themselves the night
previous, and at a reasonably early hour this portion of St. Leger's army
was in a comparative state of quietude.
"Now, if ever, is the time when you can go, lad; but remember that I
advise against it, as would your father," Sergeant Corney said, gravely.
"I am not minded to argue you out of what your heart is set upon, but ask
that you give the matter due weight before goin' so far that retreat will
be impossible."
"I must speak with my father once more," Jacob said, in a tone so piteous
that I did not have the heart to make any protest.
"Then God go with you," the old soldier said, solemnly, and in a twinkling
my comrade had slipped out of the cave, being lost to our view almost
immediately amid the foliage near at hand.
When we were thus left alone a silence fell upon us. Because of the
forebodings in my heart I was not inclined for conversation, and I dare
venture to say the sergeant held his peace for much the same reason.
During half an hour, perhaps, we listened intently, fearing each instant
lest we hear those sounds which would betoken the capture of Jacob, and
then did it seem probable he had succeeded in the venture, at least so far
as gaining the village was concerned.
Regarding him I had no further anxiety, and, without being aware that
slumber was weighing heavily upon my eyelids, I fell asleep.
I could not have been unconscious many moments, for it seemed as if my
eyes had but just closed, when I was aroused by the pressure of Sergeant
Corney's hand upon my arm, and as I would have sprung up he forced me
down, whispering:
"The savages are comin' this way, an' it looks to me mightily as if they
counted on stoppin' hereabouts."
Involuntarily I parted the vines at the mouth of the cave, for I had been
lying with my head close upon them, and gazed down the side of the small
hill, where it was possible to see, even despite the gloom of the night,
no less than ten forms coming up the incline as if following a trail.
"They have taken Jacob, an' he has told them where we are," I said on the
impulse of the moment, not meaning to cast reproach upon the lad, but
knowing what fiendish means those wretches employed in order to extort
information.
"We would have heard the noise of a squabble if he had been captured, an'
I have stood watch ever since he left," Sergeant Corney said, decidedly.
"Can they be followin' our trail in the darkness?" I cried, and my
companion replied, grimly, drawing his rifle nearer to him:
"It makes no difference to us, lad, why or how they are comin'. The
question is whether, in case they find this place, we shall fight to the
death or submit without resistance."
It was a question I could not answer. I knew full well that we could not
hope to hold the cave any considerable length of time, and that if, during
the fight, we killed any of the villains, our end at the stake would come
before morning, even though Thayendanega himself should do all he might to
prevent it.
I remained silent, the Indians approaching nearer and nearer each instant,
and, when they were half-way up the hill, within perhaps thirty yards of
the mouth of the cave, the sergeant said, as if speaking to himself:
"All we can hope for, if we should put up a fight, is to die with weapons
in our hands, for death in some form would come to us within a few hours.
While there's life there's a chance."
"Meanin' that we had best give ourselves up?" I asked, in alarm.
"Ay, lad, that is my idee, unless you can show me something better."
There was little time for reflection. Already were the Indians so near
that I fancied I could hear them breathing. I knew that the cave had no
other outlet than this one at which we crouched, but also that two
determined men might hold half an hundred in check as long as their
ammunition lasted--but then?
The foremost of the red-skinned snakes were within a dozen feet of us when
I whispered, with tremulous voice:
"It shall be as you say, sergeant!"
[Illustration: "With upraised hands, stepped out from amid the screen of
foliage"]