CHAPTER VII. CATHARINE MONTOUR
The five lay deep in the swamp, reunited once more, and full of content.The great storm in which Long Jim, with the aid of his comrades, haddisappeared, was whirling off to the eastward. The lightning was flaringits last on the distant horizon, but the rain still pattered in thegreat woods.
It was a small hut, but the five could squeeze in it. They weredry, warm, and well armed, and they had no fear of the storm and thewilderness. The four after their imprisonment and privations wererecovering their weight and color. Paul, who had suffered the most,had, on the other hand, made the quickest recovery, and their presentsituation, so fortunate in contrast with their threatened fate a fewdays before, made a great appeal to his imagination. The door wasallowed to stand open six inches, and through the crevice he watched therain pattering on the dark earth. He felt an immense sense of securityand comfort. Paul was hopeful by nature and full of courage, but when helay bound and alone in a hut in the Iroquois camp it seemed to him thatno chance was left. The comrades had been kept separate, and he hadsupposed the others to be dead. But here he was snatched from the verypit of death, and all the others had been saved from a like fate.
"If I'd known that you were alive and uncaptured, Henry," he said, "I'dnever have given up hope. It was a wonderful thing you did to start thechain that drew us all away."
"It's no more than Sol or Tom or any of you would have done," saidHenry.
"We might have tried it," said Long Jim Hart, "but I ain't sure thatwe'd have done it. Likely ez not, ef it had been left to me my scalpwould be dryin' somewhat in the breeze that fans a Mohawk village. Say,Sol, how wuz it that you talked Onondaga when you played the part uvthat Onondaga runner. Didn't know you knowed that kind uv Injun lingo."
Shif'less Sol drew himself up proudly, and then passed a thoughtful handonce or twice across his forehead.
"Jim," he said, "I've told you often that Paul an' me hez the instinctsuv the eddicated. Learnin' always takes a mighty strong hold on me.Ef I'd had the chance, I might be a purfessor, or mebbe I'd be writin'poetry. I ain't told you about it, but when I wuz a young boy, afore Imoved with the settlers, I wuz up in these parts an' I learned to talkIroquois a heap. I never thought it would be the use to me it hez beennow. Ain't it funny that sometimes when you put a thing away an' it gitsall covered with rust and mold, the time comes when that same forgotlittle thing is the most vallyble article in the world to you."
"Weren't you scared, Sol," persisted Paul, "to face a man like Brant,an' pass yourself off as an Onondaga?"
"No, I wuzn't," replied the shiftless one thoughtfully, "I've been wussscared over little things. I guess that when your life depends on jesta motion o' your hand or the turnin' o' a word, Natur' somehow comes toyour help an' holds you up. I didn't get good an' skeered till it wuzall over, an' then I had one fit right after another."
"I've been skeered fur a week without stoppin'," said Tom Ross; "jestbeginnin' to git over it. I tell you, Henry, it wuz pow'ful lucky furus you found them steppin' stones, an' this solid little place in themiddle uv all that black mud."
"Makes me think uv the time we spent the winter on that island inthe lake," said Long Jim. "That waz shorely a nice place an' pow'fulcomf'table we wuz thar. But we're a long way from it now. That island uvours must be seven or eight hundred miles from here, an' I reckon it'snigh to fifteen hundred to New Orleans, whar we wuz once."
"Shet up," said Tom Ross suddenly. "Time fur all uv you to go to sleep,an' I'm goin' to watch."
"I'll watch," said Henry.
"I'm the oldest, an' I'm goin' to have my way this time," said Tom.
"Needn't quarrel with me about it," said Shif'less Sol. "A lazy man likeme is always willin' to go to sleep. You kin hev my watch, Tom, everynight fur the next five years."
He ranged himself against the wall, and in three minutes was soundasleep. Henry and Paul found room in the line, and they, too, soonslept. Tom sat at the door, one of the captured rifles across his knees,and watched the forest and the swamp. He saw the last flare of thedistant lightning, and he listened to the falling of the rain dropsuntil they vanished with the vanishing wind, leaving the forest stilland without noise.
Tom was several years older than any of the others, and, althoughpowerful in action, he was singularly chary of speech. Henry was theleader, but somehow Tom looked upon himself as a watcher over the otherfour, a sort of elder brother. As the moon came out a little in the wakeof the retreating clouds, he regarded them affectionately.
"One, two, three, four, five," he murmured to himself. "We're all here,an' Henry come fur us. That is shorely the greatest boy the world hezever seed. Them fellers Alexander an' Hannibal that Paul talks aboutcouldn't hev been knee high to Henry. Besides, ef them old Greeks an'Romans hed hed to fight Wyandots an' Shawnees an' Iroquois ez we'vedone, whar'd they hev been?"
Tom Ross uttered a contemptuous little sniff, and on the edge of thatsniff Alexander and Hannibal were wafted into oblivion. Then he wentoutside and walked about the islet, appreciating for the tenth time whata wonderful little refuge it was. He was about to return to the hut whenhe saw a dozen dark blots along the high bough of a tree. He knew them.They were welcome blots. They were wild turkeys that had found what hadseemed to be a secure roosting place in the swamp.
Tom knew that the meat of the little bear was nearly exhausted, and herewas more food come to their hand. "We're five pow'ful feeders, an' we'llneed you," he murmured, looking up at the turkeys, "but you kin restthar till nearly mornin'."
He knew that the turkeys would not stir, and he went back to the hut toresume his watch. Just before the first dawn he awoke Henry.
"Henry," he said, "a lot uv foolish wild turkeys hev gone to rest on thelimb of a tree not twenty yards from this grand manshun uv ourn. 'Pearsto me that wild turkeys wuz made fur hungry fellers like us to eat. Kinwe risk a shot or two at 'em, or is it too dangerous?"
"I think we can risk the shots," said Henry, rising and taking hisrifle. "We're bound to risk something, and it's not likely that Indiansare anywhere near."
They slipped from the cabin, leaving the other three still sound asleep,and stepped noiselessly among the trees. The first pale gray bar thatheralded the dawn was just showing in the cast.
"Thar they are," said Tom Ross, pointing at the dozen dark blots on thehigh bough.
"We'll take good aim, and when I say 'fire!' we'll both pull trigger,"said Henry.
He picked out a huge bird near the end of the line, but he noticed whenhe drew the bead that a second turkey just behind the first was directlyin his line of fire. The fact aroused his ambition to kill both withone bullet. It was not a mere desire to slaughter or to displaymarksmanship, but they needed the extra turkey for food.
"Are you ready, Tom?" he asked. "Then fire."
They pulled triggers, there were two sharp reports terribly loud to bothunder the circumstances, and three of the biggest and fattest of theturkeys fell heavily to the ground, while the rest flapped their wings,and with frightened gobbles flew away.
Henry was about to rush forward, but Silent Tom held him back.
"Don't show yourself, Henry! Don't show yourself!" he cried in tensetones.
"Why, what's the matter?" asked the boy in surprise.
"Don't you see that three turkeys fell, and we are only two to shoot?An Injun is layin' 'roun' here some whar, an' he drawed a bead on one uvthem turkeys at the same time we did."
Henry laughed and put away Tom's detaining hand.
"There's no Indian about," he said. "I killed two turkeys with one shot,and I'm mighty proud of it, too. I saw that they were directly in theline of the bullet, and it went through both."
Silent Tom heaved a mighty sigh of relief, drawn up from great depths.
"I'm tre-men-jeous-ly glad uv that, Henry," he said. "Now when I sawthat third turkey come tumblin' down I wuz shore that one Injun or mebbemore had got on this snug little place uv ourn in the swamp, an' thatwe'd hev to go to fightin' ag
'in. Thar come times, Henry, when my mindjust natchally rises up an' rebels ag'in fightin', 'specially when Iwant to eat or sleep. Ain't thar anythin' else but fight, fight, fight,'though I 'low a feller hez got to expect a lot uv it out here in thewoods?"
They picked up the three turkeys, two gobblers and a hen, and foundthem large and fat as butter. More than once the wild turkey had come totheir relief, and, in fact, this bird played a great part in the lifeof the frontier, wherever that frontier might be, as it shifted steadilywestward. As they walked back toward the hut they faced three figures,all three with leveled rifles.
"All right, boys," sang out Henry. "It's nobody but Tom and myself,bringing in our breakfast."
The three dropped their rifles.
"That's good," said Shif'less Sol. "When them shots roused us out o'our beauty sleep we thought the whole Iroquois nation, horse, foot,artillery an' baggage wagons, wuz comin' down upon us. So we reckonedwe'd better go out an' lick 'em afore it wuz too late.
"But it's you, an' you've got turkeys, nothin' but turkeys. Sho' Ireckoned from the peart way Long Jim spoke up that you wuz loaded downwith hummin' birds' tongues, ortylans, an' all them other Roman andRooshian delicacies Paul talks about in a way to make your mouth water.But turkeys! jest turkeys! Nothin' but turkeys!"
"You jest wait till you see me cookin' 'em, Sol Hyde," said Long Jim."Then your mouth'll water, an' it'll take Henry and Tom both to hold youback."
But Shif'less Sol's mouth was watering already, and his eyes were gluedon the turkeys.
"I'm a pow'ful lazy man, ez you know, Saplin'," he said, "but I'm goin'to help you pick them turkeys an' get 'em ready for the coals. Thequicker they are cooked the better it'll suit me."
While they were cooking the turkeys, Henry, a little anxious lest thesound of the shots had been heard, crossed on the stepping stones andscouted a bit in the woods. But there was no sign of Indian presence,and, relieved, he returned to the islet just as breakfast was ready.
Long Jim had exerted all his surpassing skill, and it was a contentedfive that worked on one of the turkeys--the other two being saved forfurther needs.
"What's goin' to be the next thing in the line of our duty, Henry?"asked Long Jim as they ate.
"We'll have plenty to do, from all that Sol tells us," replied the boy."It seems that they felt so sure of you, while you were prisoners, thatthey often talked about their plans where you could hear them. Sol hastold me of two or three talks between Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea,and from the last one he gathered that they're intending a raid with abig army against a place called Wyoming, in the valley of a river namedthe Susquehanna. It's a big settlement, scattered all along the river,and they expect to take a lot of scalps. They're going to be helped byBritish from Canada and Tories. Boys, we're a long way from home, butshall we go and tell them in Wyoming what's coming?"
"Of course," said the four together.
"Our bein' a long way from home don't make any difference," saidShif'less Sol. "We're generally a long way from home, an' you know wesent word back from Pittsburgh to Wareville that we wuz stayin' a whilehere in the east on mighty important business."
"Then we go to the Wyoming Valley as straight and as fast as we can,"said Henry. "That's settled. What else did you bear about their plans,Sol?"
"They're to break up the village here soon and then they'll march toa place called Tioga. The white men an' I hear that's to be a lot uv'em-will join 'em thar or sooner. They've sent chiefs all the way to ourCongress at Philydelphy, pretendin' peace, an' then, when they git ourpeople to thinkin' peace, they'll jump on our settlements, the wholeragin' army uv 'em, with tomahawk an' knife. A white man named JohnButler is to command 'em."
Paul shuddered.
"I've heard of him," he said. "They called him 'Indian' Butler atPittsburgh. He helped lead the Indians in that terrible battle of theOriskany last year. And they say he's got a son, Walter Butler, who isas bad as he is, and there are other white leaders of the Indians, theJohnsons and Claus."
"'Pears ez ef we would be needed," said Tom Ross.
"I don't think we ought to hurry," said Henry. "The more we know aboutthe Indian plans the better it will be for the Wyoming people. We've asafe and comfortable hiding place here, and we can stay and watch theIndian movements."
"Suits me," drawled Shif'less Sol. "My legs an' arms are still stifffrom them deerskin thongs an' ez Long Jim is here now to wait on me Iguess I'll take a rest from travelin."
"You'll do all your own waitin' on yourself," rejoined Long Jim; "an' I'mafraid you won't be waited on so Pow'ful well, either, but a good dealbetter than you deserve."
They lay on the islet several days, meanwhile keeping a close watchon the Indian camp. They really had little to fear except from huntingparties, as the region was far from any settled portion of the country,and the Indians were not likely to suspect their continued presence.But the hunters were numerous, and all the squaws in the camp were busyjerking meat. It was obvious that the Indians were preparing for a greatcampaign, but that they would take their own time. Most of the scoutingwas done by Henry and Sol, and several times they lay in the thickbrushwood and watched, by the light of the fires, what was passing inthe Indian camp.
On the fifth night after the rescue of Long Jim, Henry and Shif'less Sollay in the covert. It was nearly midnight, but the fires still burnedin the Indian camp, warriors were polishing their weapons, and the womenwere cutting up or jerking meat. While they were watching they heardfrom a point to the north the sound of a voice rising and failing in akind of chant.
"Another war party comin'," whispered Shif'less Sol, "an' singin' aboutthe victories that they're goin' to win."
"But did you notice that voice?" Henry whispered back. "It's not aman's, it's a woman's."
"Now that you speak of it, you're right," said Shif'less Sol. "It'sfunny to hear an Injun woman chantin' about battles as she comes intocamp. That's the business o' warriors."
"Then this is no ordinary woman," said Henry.
"They'll pass along that trail there within twenty yards of us, Sol, andwe want to see her."
"So we do," said Sol, "but I ain't breathin' while they pass."
They flattened themselves against the earth until the keenest eye couldnot see them in the darkness. All the time the singing was growinglouder, and both remained, quite sure that it was the voice of a woman.The trail was but a short distance away, and the moon was bright. Thefierce Indian chant swelled, and presently the most singular figure thateither had ever seen came into view.
The figure was that of an Indian woman, but lighter in color than mostof her kind. She was middle-aged, tall, heavily built, and arrayed in astrange mixture of civilized and barbaric finery, deerskin leggins andmoccasins gorgeously ornamented with heads, a red dress of Europeancloth with a red shawl over it, and her head bare except for brightfeathers, thrust in her long black hair, which hung loosely down herback. She held in one hand a large sharp tomahawk, which she swungfiercely in time to her song. Her face had the rapt, terrible expressionof one who had taken some fiery and powerful drug, and she lookedneither to right nor to left as she strode on, chanting a song of blood,and swinging the keen blade.
Henry and Shif'less Sol shuddered. They had looked upon terrible humanfigures, but nothing so frightful as this, a woman with the strengthof a man and twice his rage and cruelty. There was something weird andawful in the look of that set, savage face, and the tone of that Indianchant. Brave as they were, Henry and the shiftless one felt fear, asperhaps they had never felt it before in their lives. Well they might!They were destined to behold this woman again, under conditions themost awful of which the human mind can conceive, and to witness savageryalmost unbelievable in either man or woman. The two did not yet knowit, but they were looking upon Catharine Montour, daughter of a FrenchGovernor General of Canada and an Indian woman, a chieftainess of theIroquois, and of a memory infamous forever on the border, where she wasknown as "Queen Esther."
Shif'less Sol shu
ddered again, and whispered to Henry:
"I didn't think such women ever lived, even among the Indians."
A dozen warriors followed Queen Esther, stepping in single file, andtheir manner showed that they acknowledged her their leader in everysense. She was truly an extraordinary woman. Not even the greatThayendanegea himself wielded a stronger influence among the Iroquois.In her youth she had been treated as a white woman, educated and dressedas a white woman, and she had played a part in colonial society atAlbany, New York, and Philadelphia. But of her own accord she had turnedtoward the savage half of herself, had become wholly a savage, hadmarried a savage chief, bad been the mother of savage children, and hereshe was, at midnight, striding into an Iroquois camp in the wilderness,her head aflame with visions of blood, death, and scalps.
The procession passed with the terrifying female figure still leading,still singing her chant, and the curiosity of Henry and Shif'less Solwas so intense that, taking all risks, they slipped along in the rear tosee her entry.
Queen Esther strode into the lighted area of the camp, ceased her chant,and looked around, as if a queen had truly come and was waiting to bewelcomed by her subjects. Thayendanegea, who evidently expected her,stepped forward and gave her the Indian salute. It may be that hereceived her with mild enthusiasm. Timmendiquas, a Wyandot and a guest,though an ally, would not dispute with him his place as real head of theSix Nations, but this terrible woman was his match, and could inflamethe Iroquois to almost anything that she wished.
After the arrival of Queen Esther the lights in the Iroquois villagedied down. It was evident to both Henry and the shiftless one that theyhad been kept burning solely in the expectation of the coming of thisformidable woman and her escort. It was obvious that nothing more was tobe seen that night, and they withdrew swiftly through the forest towardtheir islet. They stopped once in an oak opening, and Shif'less Solshivered slightly.
"Henry," he said, "I feel all through me that somethin' terrible iscomin'. That woman back thar has clean give me the shivers. I'm moreafraid of her than I am of Timmendiquas or Thayendanegea. Do you thinkshe is a witch?"
"There are no such things as witches, but she was uncanny. I'm afraid,Sol, that your feeling about something terrible going to happen isright."
It was about two o'clock in the morning when they reached the islet. TomRoss was awake, but the other two slumbered peacefully on. They told Tomwhat they had seen, and he told them the identity of the terrible woman.
"I heard about her at Pittsburgh, an' I've heard tell, too, about herafore I went to Kentucky to live. She's got a tre-men-jeous power overthe Iroquois. They think she ken throw spells, an' all that sort ofthing-an' mebbe she kin."
Two nights later it was Henry and Tom who lay in the thickets, and thenthey saw other formidable arrivals in the Indian camp. Now they werewhite men, an entire company in green uniforms, Sir John Johnson's RoyalGreens, as Henry afterward learned; and with them was the infamous JohnButler, or "Indian" Butler, as he was generally known on the New Yorkand Pennsylvania frontier, middle-aged, short and fat, and insignificantof appearance, but energetic, savage and cruel in nature. He was adescendant of the Duke of Ormond, and had commanded the Indians at theterrible battle of the Oriskany, preceding Burgoyne's capture the yearbefore.
Henry and Tom were distant spectators at an extraordinary council aroundone of the fires. In this group were Timmendiquas, Thayendanegea, QueenEsther, high chiefs of the distant nations, and the white men, JohnButler, Moses Blackstaffe, and the boy, Braxton Wyatt. It seemed toHenry that Timmendiquas, King of the Wyandots, was superior to all theother chiefs present, even to Thayendanegea. His expression was noblerthan that of the great Mohawk, and it had less of the Indian cruelty.
Henry and Tom could not hear 'anything that was said, but they felt surethe Iroquois were about to break up their village and march on the greatcampaign they had planned. The two and their comrades could render nogreater service than to watch their march, and then warn those upon whomthe blow was to fall.
The five left their hut on the islet early the next morning, wellequipped with provisions, and that day they saw the Iroquois dismantletheir village, all except the Long House and two or three other of themore solid structures, and begin the march. Henry and his comrades wentparallel with them, watching their movements as closely as possible.
The Scouts of the Valley Page 7