CHAPTER XIV.
A MISHAP AND A SENTENCE.
Deerfoot the Shawanoe first pinned the rattlesnake to the earth withthe arrow which he threw with his deft left hand, then he flung thereptile from his path and resumed his delicate and dangerous attemptto creep past the three Wyandots who were lying against the hank ofthe Licking, watching the block-house, now and then firing a shot atthe solid logs, as if to express their wishes respecting the occupantsof the building.
If the task was almost impossible at first, it soon became utterly so,as the young Shawanoe was compelled to admit. The contour of the bankwas such that, after getting by the log, he would be compelled toapproach the warriors so close that he could touch them with hisoutstretched hand. This would have answered at night, when they wereasleep, but he might as well have attempted to lift himself throughthe air as to do it under the circumstances we have described.
Deerfoot never despaired nor gave up so long as he held space in whichto move. He immediately repeated the retrograde motion he had usedwhen confronted by the venomous serpent, his wish now being to returnto the spot from which he fired the arrow.
The ventures made satisfied him that he had but one chance in athousand of escaping capture and death. He could not move to the rightnor left: it would have been certain destruction to show himself onthe clearing, and equally fatal to attempt to use the shallow Lickingbehind him.
There was a remote possibility that the arrowy messenger which he hadsent from his bow had not been noticed by any of the besiegingWyandots, and that, as considerable time had already passed, none ofthem would come over to where he was to inquire into the matter.
If they would keep as far away from him as they were when his friendNed Preston started on his desperate run for the block-house, ofcourse he would be safe. He could wait where he was, lying flat on theground, through all the long hours of the day, until the mantle ofnight should give him the chance for which he sighed.
Ah, but for one hour of darkness! His flight from the point of dangerwould be but pastime.
The single chance in a thousand was that which we have named: theremote possibility that none of the Wyandots would come any nearer towhere he was hugging the river bank.
For a full hour Deerfoot was in suspense, with a fluttering hope thatit might be his fortune to wait until the sun should climb to thezenith and sink in the west; for, young as was the Shawanoe, he hadlearned the great truth that in the affairs of this world no push orenergy will win, where the virtue of patience is lacking. Many a timea single move, born of impatience, has brought irretrievable disaster,where success otherwise was certain.
As the Shawanoe lay against the bank, looking across the clearingtoward the block-house, he recalled that message which, instead ofbeing spoken, as were all that he knew of, was carried on the arrow hesent through the window. If he but understood how to place those wordson paper or on a dried leaf even, he would send another missive toColonel Preston, saying that, inasmuch as he was shut in from all hopeof escape, he would make the effort to run across the open space, asdid his friends before him.
But the thing was impossible: the door of the block-house wasfastened, and if Deerfoot should start, he would reach it, if hereached it at all, before the Colonel could draw the first bolt. Evenif the Shawanoe youth should succeed in making the point, which wasextremely doubtful, now that the Wyandots were fully awake, theinevitable few seconds' halt there must prove fatal.
The short conversation which he had overheard, convinced him of thesentiments of Waughtauk and his warriors toward him, and led the youngShawanoe to determine on an effort to extricate himself. It is thevery daring of such a scheme which sometimes succeeds, and he put itin execution without delay.
Instead of crouching to the ground, as he had been doing, he now roseupright and moved down the bank, in the direction of the threeWyandots who first turned him back. They were in their old position,and he had gone only a few steps when one of them turned his head andsaw the youthful warrior approaching. He uttered a surprised "Hooh!"and the others looked around at the figure, as they might have donehad it been an apparition.
The scheme of Deerfoot was to attempt the part of a friend of theWyandots and consequently that of an enemy of the white race. He actedas if without thought of being anything else, and as though he neverdreamed there was a suspicion of his loyalty.
At a leisurely gait he walked toward the three Indians, holding hishead down somewhat, and glancing sideways through the scattered bushesat the top of the bank, as though afraid of a shot from the garrison.
"Have any of my brethren of the Wyandots been harmed by the dogs ofthe Yenghese?" asked Deerfoot in the high-flown language peculiar tohis people.
"The eyes of Deerfoot must have been closed not to see Oo-oo-mat-ahlying on the ground before his eyes."
This was an allusion to the warrior who made the mistake of stoppingNed Preston when on his way to the block-house.
"Deerfoot saw Oo-oo-mat-ah fall, as falls the brave warrior fightinghis foe; the eyes of Deerfoot were wet with tears, when his braveWyandot brother fell."
Strictly speaking, a microscope would not have detected the firstgrain of truth in this grandiloquent declaration, which wasaccompanied by a gesture as though the audacious young Shawanoe was onthe point of breaking into sobs again.
The apparent sincerity of Deerfoot's grief seemed to disarm theWyandots for the moment, which was precisely what the young Shawanoewas seeking to do.
Having mastered his sorrow, he started down the river bank on the sameslow gait, glancing sideways at the block-house as though he feared ashot from that point. But the Indians were not to be baffled in thatfashion: their estimate of the daring Deerfoot was the same asWaughtauk's.
Without any further dissembling, one of the Wyandots, a lithe sinewybrave, fully six feet in height, bounded in front of the Shawanoe, andgrasping his knife, said with flashing eyes--
"Deerfoot is a dog! he is a traitor; he is a serpent that has twotongues! he shall die!"
The others stood a few feet behind the couple and watched the singularencounter.
The Wyandot, with the threatening words in his mouth, leaped towardDeerfoot, striking a vicious blow with his knife. It was a thrustwhich would have ended the career of the youthful brave, had itreached its mark.
But Deerfoot dodged it easily, and, without attempting to return it,shot under the infuriated arm and sped down the river bank with allthe wonderful speed at his command.
The slight disturbance had brought the other three Wyandots to thespot, and it would have been an easy thing to shoot the fugitive as hefled. But among the new arrivals were those who knew it was the wishof Waughtauk that Deerfoot should be taken prisoner, that he might beput to the death all traitors deserved.
Instead of firing their guns therefore, the whole six broke into arun, each exerting himself to the utmost to overtake the fleet-footedyouth, who was no match for any one of them in a hand-to-handconflict, or a trial of strength.
Deerfoot, by his sharp strategy, had thrown the whole party behind himand had gained two or three yards' start: he felt that, if he couldnot hold this against the fleetest of the Wyandots, then he deservedto die the death of a dog.
The bushes, undergrowth and logs which obstructed his path, were astroublesome to his pursuers as to himself, and he bounded over themlike a mountain chamois, leaping from crag to crag.
There can be no question that, if this contest had been decided by therelative swiftness of foot on the part of pursuer and pursued, thelatter would have escaped without difficulty, but, as if the fateswere against the brave Shawanoe, his matchless limbs were no more thanfairly going, when two Wyandot warriors appeared directly in front insuch a position that it was impossible to avoid them.
Deerfoot made a wrenching turn to the right, as if he meant to flankthem, but he stumbled, nearly recovered himself--then fell with greatviolence, turning a complete somersault from his own momentum, andthen rose to his feet, as the In
dians in front and rear closed aroundhim.
He uttered a suppressed exclamation of pain, limped a couple of steps,and then grasped a tree to sustain himself. He seemed to havesprained his ankle badly and could bear his weight only on one foot.No more disastrous termination of the flight could have followed.
The Wyandots gathered about the poor fugitive with many expressions ofpleasure, for the pursuers had just been forced to believe the youngbrave was likely to escape them, and it was a delightful surprise whenthe two appeared in front and headed him off.
Besides, a man with a sprained ankle is the last one in the world toindulge in a foot-race, and they felt secure, therefore, in holdingtheir prisoner.
"Dog! traitor! serpent with the forked tongue! base son of a bravechieftain! warrior with the white heart!"
These were a few of the expressions applied to the captive, who madeno answer. In fact, he seemed to be occupied exclusively with hisankle, for, while they were berating him, he stooped over and rubbedit with both hands, flinging his long bow aside, as though it could beof no further use to him.
The epithets were enough to blister the skin of the ordinary AmericanIndian, and there came a sudden flush to the dusky face of theyouthful brave, when he heard himself called the base son of a bravechieftain. But he had learned to conquer himself, and he uttered not aword in response.
One of the Wyandots picked up the bow which the captive had thrownaside, and examined it with much curiosity. There was no attempt todisarm him of his knife and tomahawk, for had he not been disabled bythe sprained ankle, he would have been looked upon as an insignificantprisoner, against whom it was cowardly to take any precautions. Infact, to remove his weapons that remained would have been givingdignity to one too contemptible to deserve the treatment of anordinary captive.
The aborigines, like all barbarians and many civilized people, arecruel by nature. The Wyandots, who had secured Deerfoot, refrainedfrom killing him for no other reason than that it would have beengreater mercy than they were willing to show to one whom they held insuch detestation.
As it was, two of them struck him and repeated the taunting namesuttered when they first laid hands on him. Deerfoot still made noanswer, though his dark eyes flashed with a dangerous light when helooked in the faces of the couple who inflicted the indignity.
He asked them quietly to help him along, but, with another taunt, thewhole eight refused. The one who had smote him twice and who held hisbow, placed his hand against the shoulder of the youth and gave him aviolent shove. Deerfoot went several paces and then fell on his kneesand hands with a gasp of pain severe enough to make him faint.
The others laughed, as he painfully labored to his feet. He then askedthat he might have his bow to use as a cane; but even this wasrefused. Finding nothing in the way of assistance was to be obtained,his proud spirit closed his lips, and he limped forward, scarcelytouching the great toe of the injured limb to the ground.
The brief flight and pursuit had led the parties so far down theLicking that they were out of sight of the block-house, quite astretch of forest intervening; but it had also taken them nearer theheadquarters, as they may be called, of Waughtauk, leader of theWyandots besieging Fort Bridgman.
This sachem showed, in a lesser way, something of the military prowessof Pontiac, chief of the Chippewas, King Philip of Pokanoket, andTecumseh, who belonged to the same tribe with Deerfoot.
Although his entire force numbered a little more than fifty, yet hehad disposed them with such skill around the block-house that the mostexperienced of scouts failed to make his way through the lines.
Waughtauk was well convinced of the treachery of the Shawanoe, andthere was no living man for whom he would have given a greater amountof wampum.
The eyes of the chieftain sparkled with pleasure when the youthfulwarrior came limping painfully toward him, escorted by the Wyandots,as though they feared that, despite his disabled condition, he mightdart off with the speed of the wind.
Waughtauk rose from the fallen tree on which he had been seated amonghis warriors, and advanced a step or two to meet the party as itapproached.
"Dog! base son of the noble chief Allomaug! youth with the red faceand the white heart! serpent with the forked tongue! the Great Spirithas given it to Waughtauk that he should inflict on you the death thatis fitting all such."
These were fierce words, but the absolute fury of manner which markedtheir utterance showed how burning was the hate of the Wyandot leaderand his warriors. They knew that this youth had been honored andtrusted as no one of his years had ever been honored and trusted byhis tribe, and his treachery was therefore all the deeper, anddeserving of the worst punishment that could be devised.
Deerfoot, standing on one foot, with his hand grasping a sapling athis side, looked calmly in the face of the infuriated leader, and inhis low, musical voice, said--
"When Deerfoot was sick almost to death, his white brother took theplace of the father and mother who went to the happy hunting groundslong ago; Deerfoot would have been a dog, had he not helped his whitebrother through the forest, when the bear and the panther and theWyandot were in his path."
This defence, instead of soothing the chieftain, seemed to arouse allthe ferocity of his nature. His face fairly shone with flame throughhis ochre and paint; and striding toward the prisoner, he raised hishand with such fierceness that the muscles of the arm rose in knotsand the veins stood out in ridges on temple and forehead.
As he threw his fist aloft and was on the point of smiting Deerfoot tothe earth, the latter straightened up with his native dignity, and,still grasping the sapling and still standing on one foot, looked himin the eye.
It was as if a great lion-tamer, hearing the stealthy approach of thewild beast, had suddenly turned and confronted him.
Waughtauk paused at the moment, his fist was in the air directly overthe head of Deerfoot, glowering down upon him with an expressiondemoniac in its hate. He breathed hard and fast for a few seconds andthen retreated without striking the impending blow.
But it must not be understood that it was the defiant look of thecaptive which checked the chief. It produced no such effect, nor wasit intended to do so: it simply meant on the part of Deerfoot that heexpected indignity and torture and death, and he could bear them asunflinchingly as Waughtauk himself.
As for the chieftain, he reflected that a little counsel andconsultation were needed to fix upon the best method of putting thistormentor out of the way. If Waughtauk should allow his own passion tomaster him, the anticipated enjoyment would be lost.
While Deerfoot, therefore, retained his grasp on the sapling, that hemight be supported from falling, Waughtauk called about him hiscabinet, as it may be termed, and began the consideration of the bestmeans of punishing the traitor.
The captive could hear all the discussion, and, it need not be said,he listened with much more interest than he appeared to feel.
It would be revolting to detail the schemes advocated. If there is anyone direction in which the human mind is marvelous in its ingenuity,it is in the single one of devising means of making other beingsmiserable. Some of the proposals of the Wyandots were worthy of NanaSahib, of Bithoor, but they were rejected one after the other, asfalling a little short of the requirements of the leader.
There was one fact which did not escape the watchful eye and ear ofthe prisoner. The Wyandot who struck him twice, and who had takencharge of his bow, as a trophy belonging specially to himself, was theforemost in proposing the most cruel schemes. The look which Deerfootcast upon him said plainly--
"I would give the world for a chance to settle with _you_ before Isuffer death!"
Suddenly a thought seemed to seize Waughtauk like an inspiration.Rising to his feet, he held up his hand for his warriors to listen:
"Deerfoot is a swift runner; he has overtaken the fleeing horse andleaped upon his back; he shall be placed in the Long Clearing; heshall be given a start, and the swiftest Wyandot warriors shall beplaced in line on the
edge of the Long Clearing; they shall starttogether, and the scalp of Deerfoot shall belong to him who firstovertakes him."
This scheme, after all, was merciful when compared with many that wereproposed; but the staking of a man's life on his fleetness, whenentirely unable to run, is an idea worthy of an American Indian.
Ned in the Block-House: A Tale of Early Days in the West Page 14