THE EXCITING COUNSEL.
James Girty, the white renegade, was known to the various tribes as the
White Whirlwind. His brother Simon was the possessor of a few attributes
of kindness, but _he_ was destitute of every redeeming trait. A
repulsive face surmounted an ungainly body, but the fiend was possessed
of almost supernatural strength.
He was a power in the council, and the British agents stirred the
Indians to resist Wayne through him.
We have witnessed his theft of the message which Wolf Cap and young
Catlett left in the hollow tree prior to their departure for the
assistance of the Merriweathers and their friends. It is now our purpose
to follow him and witness his dealings with the warriors of the then
wild northwest.
He crossed the river in a canoe which he drew from a place of
concealment on the bank, and, having hid it on the opposite shore,
plunged into the forest. He seemed impatient to read the contents of the
paper which he had stolen, and as he reached the summit of a wooded
knoll a cry of joy burst from his throat.
For some minutes prior to his arrival on the top of the declivity,
certain sounds had been wafted to his ears by the night winds. They
prepared him for the sight that had burst upon his vision, but still he
could not repress the exclamation.
"I wonder if they are all there?" he murmured as he sprang forward and
heard the forest resound with his Indian name.
Girty had come suddenly, but not unexpectedly upon an Indian council. A
fire that blazed in the ring formed by five hundred painted savages,
furnished the light for the forest tableau, and revealed the renegade to
the gaze of all.
His quick eye swept the circle of faces as he passed through. He saw
representatives of every tribe which confronted Wayne; he noticed a fair
sprinkling of his own ilk, and a group of whites handsomely attired in
British uniforms.
The shouts that greeted his appearance ceased when he sprang through the
cordon and halted in the fire-lit arena.
The British officers exchanged significant looks, and Simon Girty moved
uneasily in his position. It was evident that the arrival of James at
the council was distasteful to him.
The White Whirlwind did not speak until he had mastered the contents of
the stolen message in the light of the fire.
"Warriors!" he said, in the tone which had been heard above the roar of
more than one forest battle, "I see that your council has been opened. I
have been on the trail, and though I sought you when the sun went down,
I could not get here sooner. Boldly, like a famished wolf, the
Blacksnake marches through the forest; he comes to deprive the red man
of his cabin, or his lodge, and to drive his children to lands where a
deer track has never been seen. My brethren, to-morrow we march forth to
meet this scourge of the northwestern territory. Let us be strong, and
punish the venomous Blacksnake, as we punished the big soldier long ago.
Be strong and fear not, for the soldiers of the king will fight among us
in the common cause of all the Indians east of the Great River."[B]
[B] The Mississippi.
Murmurs of approbation followed the renegade's harangue.
A chief responded in a like strain, then another and another, until
twelve had spoken for war to the knife. All this time the White
Whirlwind stood near the council fire, with his massive arms folded upon
his giant chest, and a look of triumph in his eye. He was in his
element.
The absence of such chiefs as Little Turtle, Buckhongahelas, and Blue
Jacket, was noticeable; but their places were supplied with savages of
lesser note, but equally belligerent.
All at once there arose to address the council an Indian who created a
sensation.
He came from the portion of the living ring occupied by Simon Girty, and
James gave his brother a quick glance, when he recognized the chief. But
Simon appeared to be composed.
"War?" cried the new speaker, who could not have passed his twenty-sixth
year, "War means death to the Indian and the rule of the American
throughout our hunting grounds. Parquatin is not afraid to lead his
braves to battle; but where is the use? Who comes here to-night and
tells us to bear our bosoms to the rifles of the Blacksnake? Does the
White Whirlwind lead his braves in open fight? No! he will tell us to
rush upon the Americans, while he trails some white girl through the
woods; and make her build the fires in his hut. Parquatin hates the
Blacksnake; but he despises the Indian who will listen to the forked
words of such a pale fox as the Whirlwind. Parquatin has spoken."
The young chief glanced defiantly around the circle of scarlet faces.
With a face blanched to ghastliness by the first sentence, James Girty
heard the speaker through--heard and stood dumfounded for a moment.
The English, who had come from Fort Miami to attend the conclave, gazed
with consternation into each others' faces, and the members of the
council looked startled.
In Simon Girty's eye there was a look of triumph, for Parquatin seemed
his spokesman.
"I defend myself!" the accused renegade suddenly cried. "I lead the red
men when I tell them to meet the American soldiers. Parquatin, the
Wyandot, is jealous; he dares to lie about me in the great council
because I lead more and braver warriors than he. But the Indians know
me; they spurn the lie as they hate the good-for-nothing lying dog!"
A short cry of rage followed the cutting epithet, and with flashing
tomahawk Parquatin sprang forward.
"Here I am," said Girty, drawing his own hatchet and planting himself
firmly. "I am willing to kill my enemies wherever I meet 'em!"
The seated warriors--for the participants of Indian councils are usually
seated--watched the scene with interest. Parquatin, young and not strong
of limb, was no match for the renegade; but he possessed the spirit of
the maddened tiger, and never thought of the strength against him.
For a moment he glared at his calm antagonist, and then bounded forward.
Girty received the shock with his hatchet's iron-like handle, and by a
dexterous blow in return sent Parquatin's weapon spinning to the edge of
the fire.
The young chief was now completely at his mercy, and, as James Girty
seldom spared a helpless foe, his doom was as swift as terrible.
Parquatin met his fate with the red man's famous stoicism.
With his arms folded upon his breast, he received the renegade's blow,
and without a death cry fell backward--his skull cleft by the keen-edged
tomahawk.
"Now!" cried the heartless victor, swinging aloft the gory weapon, and
sweeping the circle with his flashing glance, "now let the man who
persuaded Parquatin to insult me in the council step forth and meet me
face to face. He is here and I know him! His victim lies before me. Let
him stand up and say that I lie, if he dare!"
But no voice replied, and no man rose to confront the White Whirlwind.
"Well, never mind," he said. "I would not strike him if he did rise
against me. Gentlemen," to the English officers, "this is the bitterest
moment of my life. Jim Girty is not callous to every affection. I bid
you good night. Warriors, I will meet you before the big battle. Again I
say, be strong!"
As the renegade turned and strode across the ground, the circle was
respectfully broken, and he passed into the dark forest beyond.
It was a strange event for an Indian council, and was destined to decide
the fate of many helpless families; but few knew it, then.
There was but one man in the council who knew why James Girty spoke as
he did to the British soldiers.