XXIX
IN WHICH, HAVING DANCED, WE PAY THE PIPER
Measured by the sense which takes cognizance of pauses it seemed no morethan a moment between the stamping out of breath and its gaspingrecovery. But in the interval the scene had shifted from the opensavanna to a thinly set grove of oaks with the stream brawling throughthe midst.
To the biggest of the trees I was tightly bound; and a little way aparta fire, newly kindled, smoked and blazed up fitfully. By the light ofthe fire a good score of the Cherokees were gathering deadfalls and drybranches to heap beside me; and from the camp below, the Indian lodgesof which were in plain view beyond the intervening horse meadow, othersavages were hurrying to join the wood carriers.
So far as these hasting preliminaries applied to me, their meaning wasnot difficult to read. I was to be burned at the stake in proper savagefashion. But Richard Jennifer--what had become of him? A sound, halfsigh, half groan, told me where to look. Hard by, bound to a tree as Iwas, and so near that with a free hand I could have touched him, was mypoor lad.
"Dick!" I cried.
He turned his head as the close-drawn thongs permitted and gave me asmile as loving-tender as a woman's.
"Aye, Jack; they have us hard and fast this time. I have been prayingyou'd never come alive enough to feel the fire."
"We were taken together?" So much I dared ask.
"In the same onset. 'Twas but a question of clock ticks in thatback-to-back business. But they paid scot and lot," this with an inchingnod toward a row of naked bodies propped sitting against a fallen tree;nine of them in all, one with its severed head between its knees, andthree others showing the gaping hacks and hewings of the greatbroadsword.
"They've fetched them here to see us burn," he went on. "But by thegods, we have the warrant of two good blades and Ephraim Yeates'shunting-knife that the only fires they'll ever see are those of hell."
"Yeates?" I queried. "Then they have taken him and the Catawba, aswell?"
"Not alive, you may be sure, else we should have them for company. Butit has a black look for our friends that the flying column we met in thestream-cave came back so soon. Moreover, the bodies of the threepeace-pipe smokers were found and brought in; that will be the GreatBear holding his head in his hands at the end of yonder bloodymasquerade."
"I guessed as much. God rest our poor comrades!"
"Aye; and God help Madge! 'Tis no time for reproaches, but amongst us wehave signed her death warrant with our bunglings."
"If it were only death!" I groaned.
"'Tis just that, Jack," said he; "no better, mayhap, but no worse. Whenwe were downed by that screeching mob, she was out and on her knees toFalconnet, beseeching him to spare us. He put her off smoothly at first,saying 'twas the Indians' affair--that they would not be balked of theirvengeance by any interference of his. But when she only begged the morepiteously, he showed his true colors, rapping out that we should have asswift a quittance as we had meant to give him, and that within the hourshe should be the mistress of Appleby and free to marry an Englishgentleman."
"Well?" said I, making sure that now at last he must know all.
"At that she stood before him bravely, and I saw that all the time shehad had the Catawba's knife hidden in the folds of her gown. 'You havespoken truth for once, Captain Falconnet; I shall be free,' she said.'Come and tell me when you have added these to your other murders.'"
"And then?"
"Then she went back to her prison wigwam, walking through the rabble ofredcoats and redskins as proudly as the Scottish Mary went to theblock."
"She will do it, think you?" I queried, fearful lest she would, but morefearful lest her courage should fail at the pinch.
"Never doubt it. Good Catholic as she is, there is martyr blood in heron the mother's side, and that will help her to die unsullied. And Godnerve her to it, say I."
I said "Amen" to that; and thereupon we both fell silent, watching ascondemned men on the gallows the busy preparations for our taking off.
Again, as in the late battle, it was the trivial things that moved memost. Chief among them the grinning row of dead Indians propped againstthe fallen tree is the constant background for all the memory picturesof that waiting interval, and I can see those stiffening corpses now,some erect, as if defying us; some lopping this way or that, as if theirbones had gone to water at the touch of the steel.
I know not why these poor relics of mortality should have held mefascinated as they did. Yet when I would look away, through the vista towhere the light of the great fire in the savanna camp played luridlyupon the Indian lodges, or, nearer at hand, upon the savages gatheringthe wood to burn us with, this ghastly file of the dead drew meirresistibly, and I must needs pass the fearsome figures in reviewagain, marking the staring eyes and unnatural postures, and thecircular blood-black patches on the heads of the three peace-men whomYeates and the Catawba had scalped.
While they were making ready for the burning, our executioners werestrangely silent; but when the work was done they formed in a semicircleto front the row of corpses and set up a howling chant that would haveput a band of Mohammedan dervishes to the blush.
"'Tis the death song for the slain," said Richard; and while it lasted,this moving tableau of naked figures, keeping time in a weird stampingdance to the rising and falling ululation of the chant, held usspellbound.
But we were not long suffered to be mere curious onlookers. In itsdismalest flight the death song ended in a shrill hubbub, and thedancers turned as one man to face us.
I hope it may never be your lot, my dears, to meet and endure such ahorrid glare of human ferocity as that these wrought-up avengers ofblood bent upon us. 'Twas more unnerving than aught that had gonebefore; more terrible, I thought, than aught that could come after. Yet,as to this, you shall judge for yourselves.
The pause was brief, and when a lad ran up to cut the thongs that boundus from the middle up, the torture-play began in deadly earnest. Whilstthe Indian youth was slashing at the deerskin, Richard gave me my cue.
"'Tis the knife and hatchet play; they are loosing us to give usfreedom to shrink and dodge. Look straight before you and never flinch ahair, as you would keep the life in you from one minute to the next!"
"Trust me," said I. "We must eke it out as long as we can, if only togive our dear lady time for another prayer or two. Mayhap she will nameus in them; God knows, our need is sore enough."
The lad ran back, and a warrior stood out, juggling his tomahawk in air.He made a feint to cast it at Richard, but instead sent it whizzing atme.
That first missile was harder to face unflinching than were all theothers. I saw it leave the thrower's hand; saw it coming straight, as Iwould think, to split my skull. The prompting to dodge was well-nighmasterful enough to override the strongest will. Yet I did make shift tohold fast, and in mid flight the twirling ax veered aside to miss me bya hair's-breadth, gashing the tree at my ear when it struck.
"Bravo! well met!" cried Richard; and then, betwixt his teeth: "Herecomes mine."
As he spoke, a second tomahawk was sped. I heard it strike with a dullcrash that might have been on flesh and bone, or on oak-bark--I couldnot tell. I dared not look aside till Richard's taunting laugh gave meleave to breathe again.
The Indians answered the laugh with a yell; and now the marksmen stoodout quickly one after another and for a little space the air was full ofhurtling missiles. You will read in the romances of the wondrous skillof these savages in such diversions as these; how they will pin thevictim to a tree and never miss of sticking knife or hatchet within thethickness of the blade where they will. But you must take these taleswith a dash of allowance for the romancers' fancy. Truly, these Indiansof ours threw well and skilfully; 'tis a part of the only trade theyknow--the trade of war--to send a weapon true to the mark. None theless, some of the missiles flew wide; and now and then one would nip thecloth of sleeve or body covering--and the flesh beneath it, as well.
Dick had more of the
nippings than I; and though he kept up a runningfire of taunts and gibing flings at the marksmen, I could hear thegritting oaths aside when they pinked him.
Notwithstanding, the worst of these miscasts fell to my lot. A hatchet,sped by the clumsiest hand of all, missed its curving, turned, and thehelve of it struck me fair in the stomach. Not all the parting pangs ofdeath, as I fondly believe, will lay a heavier toll on fortitude thandid this griping-stroke which I must endure standing erect. 'Tis nofigure of speech to say that I would have given the reversion of akingdom, and a crown to boot, for leave to double over and groan out theagony of it.
Happily for us, there were no women with the band, so we were spared thecrueler refinements of these ante-burning torments; the flaying alive byinch-bits, and the sticking of blazing splints of pitchwood in theflesh to make death a thing to be prayed for. There was naught of this;and tiring finally of the marksman play, the Indians made ready to burnus. Some ran to recover the spent weapons; others made haste to heap thewood in a broad circle about our trees; and the chief, with three orfour to help, renewed the deer-thong lashings.
'Twas in the rebinding that this headman, a right kingly-looking savageas these barbarians go, thrust a bit of paper into my hand, and gave metime to glance its message out by the light of the fire. 'Twas a linefrom Margery; and this is what she said:
_Dear Heart:
Though you must needs believe my love is pledged to your good friend and mine, 'tis yours, and yours alone, my lion-hearted one. I am praying the good God to give you dying grace, and me the courage to follow you quickly. Margery.
This by the hand of Tallachama._
For one brief instant a wave of joy caught and flung me upon its highestcrest, and all these savage tormentors could do to me became as naught.Then the true meaning of this her brave _Ave atque vale_ smote me like aspace-flung meteor, and the joy-wave became an ocean of despair toengulf me in its blackest depths. The letter was never meant for me;'twas for Richard Jennifer, who, as she would think, must know thestory of her marriage to his friend and must believe her love went withthe giving of her hand. And she named him Lion-Heart because he wasbrave, and true, and strong, like that first English Richard of thekingly line.
I thrust the message back upon the bearer of it, begging him in dumbshow to give it quickly to my companion. I knew not at the time if hedid it, being so crushed and blinded by this fresh misery. But when theIndians drew off to ring us in a chanting circle for the final act, Iwould not let the lad see my face for fear he might fathom theheart-break in me and know the cause of it.
'Twas at this crisis, when all was ready and one had run to fetch thefire, that I heard a smothered oath from Dick and saw the Indian who wascoming up to fire the wood heaps drop his brand and tread upon it.
"Ecod!" said a voice, courtier-like and smoothly modulated. "'Tis mostdevilish lucky I came, Captain Ireton. Another moment and they wouldhave grilled you in the king's uniform--a rank treason, to say naught ofpoor Jack Warden left without a clout to cover him."
It needed not the glance aside to name mine enemy. But I would notpleasure him with an answer. Neither would Richard Jennifer. He stoodsilent for a little space, smiling and nursing his chin in one hand, ashis habit was. Then he spoke again.
"I came to bid you God-speed, gentlemen. You tumbled bravely into mylittle trap. I made no doubt you'd follow where the lady led, and so youdid. But you'll turn back from this, I do assure you, if there be anyvirtue in an Indian barbecue."
At this Richard could hold in no longer.
"Curse you!" he gritted. "Do you mean that you kidnapped Mistress Stairto draw us out of hiding?"
"Truly," said this arch-fiend, smiling again. "Most unluckily for you,you both stood in my way,--you see I am speaking of it now as a thingpast,--and I chanced upon this thought of killing two birds with the onestone; nay, three, I should say, if you count the lady in."
"Have done!" choked Richard, in a voice thick with impotent rage. "Giveplace, you hound, and let your savages to their work!"
"At your pleasure, Mr. Jennifer. I have no fancy for funeral bakedmeats, hot or cold, though they be made, as now, to furnish forth amarriage supper. I bid you good night, gentlemen. I'll go and make thatcall upon the lady which you were so rude as to interrupt a little whileago." And with that he turned his back upon us and strode away,forgetting to tell his redskinned myrmidons to strip me of that king'suniform he was so loath to have me burned in.
The Cherokees waited till the master-executioner was out of sight amongthe trees. Then they set up their infernal howling again, and thefire-lighter ran to fetch a fresh brand.
"Courage, lad! 'twill soon be over now," said I, hearing a groan frommy poor Dick.
His reply was a chattering curse, not upon Falconnet or the Indians, butupon his malady, the tertian fever.
"Now, by all the fiends! I'm chilling again, Jack!" he gasped. "If thesecursed wood-wolves mark it, they'll set it down to woman cowardice andthat will break my heart!"
Again I bade him be of good courage, assuring him, not derisively, as itlooks when 'tis written out, that the fire would presently medicine thechilling. In the middle of the saying the lighted brand was fetched andthrust among our fagotings, and the upward-curling smoke wreaths made megasp and strangle at the finish.
For a little time after the sucking in of that firstsmoke-breath--nature's anodyne for any of her poor creatures doomed todie by fire--I saw and heard less clearly and suffered only byanticipation. But to this day the smell of burning pine-wood is like asleeping potion to me; and the sleep it brings is full of dreams vaguelytroubled.
So, while the Indians danced and leaped about us, brandishing theirweapons and chanting the captives' death song, and while the blue andyellow tongues of flame mounted from twig to twig, climbing stealthilyto flick at us like little vanishing demon whips, I saw and heard andfelt as one remote from all the torture turmoil of the moment. Throughthe dimming haze of sleeping sensibility the dancing savages became asmarionettes in some cunning puppet show; and the blood stained figuresstiffening against their log took shapes less horrifying.
'Twas Dick's voice, coming, as it seemed, from a mighty distance, thatbroke the spell and brought me back to quickened agonies. He spoke inpanting gasps, as the smoke would let him.
"One word, Jack, before we go--go to our own place. He said--he said shewould be free to--to marry him. Tell me ... O God in Heaven!"
His agony was a lash to cut me deeper than any flicking demon whip offlame, yet I must needs add to it.
"Aye, Richard, I have wronged you, wronged you desperately; can you hearme yet? I say I have wronged you, and I shall die the easier if you'llforgive--"
Once more the smoke, rising again in denser clouds, cut me off, andthrough the blinding blue haze of it I saw the Indians running up withgreen branches to beat it down lest it should spoil their sport oversoonby smothering us out of hand.
With the chance to gasp and breathe again I would have confessed in fullto Richard Jennifer and had him shrive me if he would. But when Icalled, he did not answer. His head was rolling from side to side, andhis handsome young face was all drawn and distorted as in the awfulgrimaces of the death throe.
You will not wonder that I could not look at him; that I looked awayfor very pity's sake, praying that I might quickly breathe the flames,as I made sure he had, and so be the sooner past the anguish crisis.
There was good hope that the prayer would have a speedy answer. Thefires were burning clearer now, leaping up in broad dragon's tongues offlame from the outer edges of the fagot piles to curtain off all thatlay beyond. Through the luminous flame-veil the capering savages took onshapes the most weird and grotesque; and when I had a glimpse of thedead men's row, each hideous face in it seemed to wear a grin of leeringtriumph.
Thus far there had been never a puff of wind to fan the blaze. But nowabove the shrilling of the Indian chant and the crackling of the flamesa low growl of thunder trembled in t
he upper air, and a gentle breezeswept through the tree-tops.
So now I would commend my soul to God, making sure that the breath Hegave would go out on the wings of the first gust that should come todrive the fiery veil inward. But when the gust came it was from behind;a sweeping besom to beat down the leaping dragons' tongues; a pouringflood of blessed coolness to turn the ebbing life-tide and to set thedulled senses once more keenly alert.
With the wind came the rain, a passing summer-night's shower of greatdrops spattering on the leaves above and dripping thence to fall hissingin the fires. Then the thunder growled again; and into the monotonousdroning of the Indian chant, or rather rising sharp and clear above it,came a sudden rattling fire of musketry from the camp in thesavanna--this, and the sharp skirling of the troop captain's whistleshrilling the assembly.
While yet the flames lay flattened in the wind, I saw the Indians wheeland bound away to the rescue of their camp like a pack of hounds in fullcry. In a trice they were wallowing through the stream at the foot ofthe powder boulder; and then, as the flames leaped up again, a dark formburst through the fiery barrier, my bonds were cut, and a strong handplucked me out of the scorching hell-pit.
If I did aught to help it was all mechanical. I do remember dimly somefierce struggle to free my legs from the blazing tangle; this, and theswelling sob of joy at the sight of the faithful Catawba hacking atDick's lashings and dragging him also free of the fire. And you maybelieve the welcome tears came to ease the pain of my seared eyes whenmy poor lad--I had thought him gone past human help--took two staggeringsteps and flung his arms about my neck.
Uncanoola gave us no time to come by easy stages to full-wit sanity. Ina twinkling he had pounced upon us to crush us one upon the other behindthe larger tree. And now I come upon another of those flitting instantsso crowded with happenings that the swiftest pen must seem to make themlag. 'Twas all in a heart-beat, as it were: the Catawba's freeing ofus; his flinging us to earth behind the tree; a spurt of blinding yellowflame from the foot of the powder-cliff, and a booming, jarring shocklike that of an earthquake.
The momentary glare of the yellow flash lit up a scene mostawe-inspiring. The spouting fountain of fire at the base of the greatpowder-rock was thick with flying missiles; and on high the very cliffitself was tottering and crumbling. So much I saw; then the Catawbasprang up to haul us afoot by main strength, and to rush us, with an armfor each, headlong through the wood toward the valley head.
But Dick hung back, and when the dull thunder of the falling rocks, thecrash of the tumbling cliff and the shrill death yells of the doomedones came to our ears, he fought loose from the Indian and flung himselfdown, crying as if his heart would break.
"O God! she's lost, she's lost!--and I have missed the chance to diewith her or for her!"
The Master of Appleby Page 31