CHAPTER X. THE BLOODY ROCK
Seeing that all was lost, the five drew farther away into the woods.They were not wounded, yet their faces were white despite the tan. Theyhad never before looked upon so terrible a scene. The Indians, wild withthe excitement of a great triumph and thirsting for blood, were runningover the field scalping the dead, killing some of the wounded, andsaving others for the worst of tortures. Nor were their white allies onewhit behind them. They bore a full part in the merciless war upon theconquered. Timmendiquas, the great Wyandot, was the only one to shownobility. Several of the wounded he saved from immediate death, and hetried to hold back the frenzied swarm of old squaws who rushed forwardand began to practice cruelties at which even the most veteran warriormight shudder. But Queen Esther urged them on, and "Indian" Butlerhimself and the chiefs were afraid of her.
Henry, despite himself, despite all his experience and powers ofself-control, shuddered from head to foot at the cries that came fromthe lost field, and he was sure that the others were doing the same. Thesun was setting, but its dying light, brilliant and intense, tinged thefield as if with blood, showing all the yelling horde as the warriorsrushed about for scalps, or danced in triumph, whirling their hideoustrophies about their heads. Others were firing at men who were escapingto the far bank of the Susquehanna, and others were already seeking thefugitives in their vain hiding places on the little islet.
The five moved farther into the forest, retreating slowly, and sendingin a shot now and then to protect the retreat of some fugitive who wasseeking the shelter of the woods. The retreat had become a rout and thena massacre. The savages raged up and down in the greatest killing theyhad known since Braddock's defeat. The lodges of the Iroquois would befull of the scalps of white men.
All the five felt the full horror of the scene, but it made its deepestimpress, perhaps, upon Paul. He had taken part in border battles before,but this was the first great defeat. He was not blind to the valor andgood qualities of the Indian and his claim upon the wilderness, but hesaw the incredible cruelties that he could commit, and he felt a horrorof those who used him as an ally, a horror that he could never dismissfrom his mind as long as he lived.
"Look!" he exclaimed, "look at that!"
A man of seventy and a boy of fourteen were running for the forest. Theymight have been grandfather and grandson. Undoubtedly they had foughtin the Battalion of the Very Old and the Very Young, and now, wheneverything else was lost, they were seeking to save their lives in thefriendly shelter of the woods. But they were pursued by two groups ofIroquois, four warriors in one, and three in the other, and the Indianswere gaining fast.
"I reckon we ought to save them," said Shif'less Sol.
"No doubt of it," said Henry. "Paul, you and Sol move off to the righta little, and take the three, while the rest of us will look out for thefour."
The little band separated according to the directions, Paul and Solhaving the lighter task, as the others were to meet the group of fourIndians at closer range. Paul and Sol were behind some trees, and,turning at an angle, they ran forward to intercept the three Indians. Itwould have seemed to anyone who was not aware of the presence of friendsin the forest that the old man and the boy would surely be overtaken andbe tomahawked, but three rifles suddenly flashed among the foliage. Twoof the warriors in the group of four fell, and a third uttered a yellof pain. Paul and Shif'less Sol fired at the same time at the group ofthree. One fell before the deadly rifle of Shif'less Sol, but Paul onlygrazed his man. Nevertheless, the whole pursuit stopped, and the boyand the old man escaped to the forest, and subsequently to safety at theMoravian towns.
Paul, watching the happy effect of the shots, was about to say somethingto Shif'less Sol, when an immense force was hurled upon him, and he wasthrown to the ground. His comrade was served in the same way, but theshiftless one was uncommonly strong and agile. He managed to writhe halfway to his knees, and he shouted in a tremendous voice:
"Run, Henry, run! You can't do anything for us now!"
Braxton Wyatt struck him fiercely across the mouth. The blood came,but the shiftless one merely spat it out, and looked curiously at therenegade.
"I've often wondered about you, Braxton," he said calmly. "I used tothink that anybody, no matter how bad, had some good in him, but Ireckon you ain't got none."
Wyatt did not answer, but rushed forward in search of the others.But Henry, Silent Tom, and Long Jim had vanished. A powerful partyof warriors had stolen upon Shif'less Sol and Paul, while they wereabsorbed in the chase of the old man and the boy, and now they wereprisoners, bound securely. Braxton Wyatt came back from the fruitlesssearch for the three, but his face was full of savage joy as he lookeddown at the captured two.
"We could have killed you just as easily," he said, "but we didn'twant to do that. Our friends here are going to have their fun with youfirst."
Paul's cheeks whitened a little at the horrible suggestion, butShif'less Sol faced them boldly. Several white men in uniform had comeup, and among them was an elderly one, short and squat, and with a greatflame colored handkerchief tied around his bead.
"You may burn us alive, or you may do other things jest ez bad to us,all under the English flag," said Shif'less Sol, "but I'm thinkin' thata lot o' people in England will be ashamed uv it when they hear thenews."
"Indian" Butler and his uniformed soldiers turned away, leavingShif'less Sol and Paul in the hands of the renegade and the Iroquois.The two prisoners were jerked to their feet and told to march.
"Come on, Paul," said Shif'less Sol. "'Tain't wuth while fur us toresist. But don't you quit hopin', Paul. We've escaped from many a tightcorner, an' mebbe we're goin' to do it ag'in."
"Shut up!" said Braxton Wyatt savagely. "If you say another word I'llgag you in a way that will make you squirm."
Shif'less Sol looked him squarely in the eye. Solomon Hyde, who was notshiftless at all, had a dauntless soul, and he was not afraid now in theface of death preceded by long torture.
"I had a dog once, Braxton Wyatt," he said, "an' I reckon he wuz themeanest, ornierest cur that ever lived. He liked to live on dirt, thedirtier the place he could find the better; he'd rather steal his foodthan get it honestly; he wuz sech a coward that he wuz afeard o' arabbit, but ef your back wuz turned to him he'd nip you in the ankle.But bad ez that dog wuz, Braxton, he wuz a gentleman 'longside o' you."
Some of the Indians understood English, and Wyatt knew it. He snatcheda pistol from his belt, and was about to strike Sol with the butt of it,but a tall figure suddenly appeared before him, and made a commandinggesture. The gesture said plainly: "Do not strike; put that pistolback!" Braxton Wyatt, whose soul was afraid within him, did not strike,and he put the pistol back.
It was Timmendiquas, the great White Lightning of the Wyandots, whowith his little detachment had proved that day how mighty the Wyandotwarriors were, full equals of Thayendanegea's Mohawks, the Keepers ofthe Western Gate. He was bare to the waist. One shoulder was streakedwith blood from a slight wound, but his countenance was not on fire withpassion for torture and slaughter like those of the others.
"There is no need to strike prisoners," he said in English. "Their fatewill be decided later."
Paul thought that he caught a look of pity from the eyes of the greatWyandot, and Shif'less Sol said:
"I'm sorry, Timmendiquas, since I had to be captured, that you didn'tcapture me yourself. I'm glad to say that you're a great warrior."
Wyatt growled under his breath, but he was still afraid to speak out,although he knew that Timmendiquas was merely a distant and casual ally,and had little authority in that army. Yet he was overawed, and so werethe Indians with him.
"We were merely taking the prisoners to Colonel Butler," he said. "Thatis all."
Timmendiquas stared at him, and the renegade's face fell. But he and theIndians went on with the prisoners, and Timmendiquas looked after themuntil they were out of sight.
"I believe White Lightning was sorry that we'd been captured,"
whisperedShif'less Sol.
"I think so, too," Paul whispered back.
They had no chance for further conversation, as they were driven rapidlynow to that point of the battlefield which lay nearest to the fort,and here they were thrust into the midst of a gloomy company, fellowcaptives, all bound tightly, and many wounded. No help, no treatment ofany kind was offered for hurts. The Indians and renegades stood aboutand yelled with delight when the agony of some man's wound wrung fromhim a groan. The scene was hideous in every respect. The setting sunshone blood red over forest, field, and river. Far off burning housesstill smoked like torches. But the mountain wall in the east, wasgrowing dusky with the coming twilight. From the island, where they weremassacring the fugitives in their vain hiding places, came the soundof shots and cries, but elsewhere the firing had ceased. All who couldescape had done so already, and of the others, those who were dead werefortunate.
The sun sank like a red ball behind the mountains, and darkness sweptdown over the earth. Fires began to blaze up here and there, some forterrible purpose. The victorious Iroquois; stripped to the waist andpainted in glaring colors, joined in a savage dance that would remainforever photographed on the eye of Paul Cotter. As they jumped to andfro, hundreds of them, waving aloft tomahawks and scalping knives, bothof which dripped red, they sang their wild chant of war and triumph.White men, too, as savage as they, joined them. Paul shuddered againand again from head to foot at this sight of an orgy such as the mass ofmankind escapes, even in dreams.
The darkness thickened, the dance grew wilder. It was like a carnivalof demons, but it was to be incited to a yet wilder pitch. A singularfigure, one of extraordinary ferocity, was suddenly projected into themidst of the whirling crowd, and a chant, shriller and fiercer, roseabove all the others. The figure was that of Queen Esther, like somemonstrous creature out of a dim past, her great tomahawk stained withblood, her eyes bloodshot, and stains upon her shoulders. Paul wouldhave covered his eyes had his hands not been tied instead, he turned hishead away. He could not bear to see more. But the horrible chant came tohis ears, nevertheless, and it was reinforced presently by other soundsstill more terrible. Fires sprang up in the forest, and cries came fromthese fires. The victorious army of "Indian" Butler was beginning toburn the prisoners alive. But at this point we must stop. The detailsof what happened around those fires that night are not for the ordinaryreader. It suffices to say that the darkest deed ever done on the soilof what is now the United States was being enacted.
Shif'less Sol himself, iron of body and soul, was shaken. He could notclose his ears, if he would, to the cries that came from the fires, buthe shut his eyes to keep out the demon dance. Nevertheless, he openedthem again in a moment. The horrible fascination was too great. He sawQueen Esther still shaking her tomahawk, but as he looked she suddenlydarted through the circle, warriors willingly giving way before her, anddisappeared in the darkness. The scalp dance went on, but it had lostsome of its fire and vigor.
Shif'less Sol felt relieved.
"She's gone," he whispered to Paul, and the boy, too, then opened hiseyes. The rest of it, the mad whirlings and jumpings of the warriors,was becoming a blur before him, confused and without meaning.
Neither he nor Shif'less Sol knew how long they had been sitting thereon the ground, although it had grown yet darker, when Braxton Wyattthrust a violent foot against the shiftless one and cried:
"Get up! You're wanted!"
A half dozen Seneca warriors were with him, and there was no chance ofresistance. The two rose slowly to their feet, and walked where BraxtonWyatt led. The Senecas came on either side, and close behind them,tomahawks in their hands. Paul, the sensitive, who so often felt theimpression of coming events from the conditions around him, was surethat they were marching to their fate. Death he did not fear so greatly,although he did not want to die, but when a shriek came to him from oneof the fires that convulsive shudder shook him again from head to foot.Unconsciously he strained at his bound arms, not for freedom, but thathe might thrust his fingers in his ears and shut out the awful sounds.Shif'less Sol, because he could not use his hands, touched his shouldergently against Paul's.
"Paul," he whispered, "I ain't sure that we're goin' to die, leastways,I still have hope; but ef we do, remember that we don't have to die butoncet."
"I'll remember, Sol," Paul whispered back.
"Silence, there!" exclaimed Braxton Wyatt. But the two had said all theywanted to say, and fortunately their senses were somewhat dulled. Theyhad passed through so much that they were like those who are under theinfluence of opiates. The path was now dark, although both torches andfires burned in the distance. Presently they heard that chant with whichthey had become familiar, the dreadful notes of the hyena woman, andthey knew that they were being taken into her presence, for what purposethey could not tell, although they were sure that it was a bitter one.As they approached, the woman's chant rose to an uncommon pitch offrenzy, and Paul felt the blood slowly chilling within him.
"Get up there!" exclaimed Braxton Wyatt, and the Senecas gave them botha push. Other warriors who were standing at the edge of an open spaceseized them and threw them forward with much violence. When theystruggled into a sitting position, they saw Queen Esther standing upon abroad flat rock and whirling in a ghastly dance that had in it somethingOriental. She still swung the great war hatchet that seemed always to bein her hand. Her long black hair flew wildly about her head, and her reddress gleamed in the dusk. Surely no more terrible image ever appearedin the American wilderness! In front of her, lying upon the ground, weretwenty bound Americans, and back of them were Iroquois in dozens, with asprinkling of their white allies.
What it all meant, what was about to come to pass, nether Paul norShif'less Sol could guess, but Queen Esther sang:
We have found them, the Yengees Who built their houses in the valley, They came forth to meet us in battle, Our rifles and tomahawks cut them down, As the Yengees lay low the forest. Victory and glory Aieroski gives to his children, The Mighty Six Nations, greatest of men.
There will be feasting in the lodges of the Iroquois, And scalps will hang on the high ridge pole, But wolves will roam where the Yengees dwelt And will gnaw the bones of them all, Of the man, the woman, and the child. Victory and glory Aieroski gives to his children, The Mighty Six Nations, greatest of men.
Such it sounded to Shif'less Sol, who knew the tongue of the Iroquois,and so it went on, verse after verse, and at the end of each verse camethe refrain, in which the warriors joined:
"Victory and glory Aieroski gives to his children. The mighty SixNations, greatest of men."
"What under the sun is she about?" whispered Shif'less Sol.
"It is a fearful face," was Paul's only reply.
Suddenly the woman, without stopping her chant, made a gesture tothe warriors. Two powerful Senecas seized one of the bound prisoners,dragged him to his feet, and held him up before her. She uttered ashout, whirled the great tomahawk about her head, its blade glitteringin the moonlight, and struck with all her might. The skull of theprisoner was cleft to the chin, and without a cry he fell at the feet ofthe woman who had killed him. Paul uttered a shout of horror, but itwas lost in the joyful yells of the Iroquois, who, at the command of thewoman, offered a second victim. Again the tomahawk descended, and againa man fell dead without a sound.
Shif'less Sol and Paul wrenched at their thongs, but they could not movethem. Braxton Wyatt laughed aloud. It was strange to see how fast onewith a bad nature could fall when the opportunities were spread beforehim. Now he was as cruel as the Indians themselves. Wilder and shrillergrew the chant of the savage queen. She was intoxicated with blood. Shesaw it everywhere. Her tomahawk clove a third skull, a fourth, a fifth,a sixth, a seventh, and eighth. As fast as they fell the warriors at hercommand brought up new victims for her weapon. Paul shut his eyes, buthe knew by the sounds what was passing. Suddenly a stern voice cried:
"Hold, woman! Enough of this! Will your tomahaw
k never be satisfied?"
Paul understood it, the meaning, but not the words. He opened his eyesand saw the great figure of Timmendiquas striding forward, his handupraised in protest.
The woman turned her fierce gaze upon the young chief. "Timmendiquas,"she said, "we are the Iroquois, and we are the masters. You are far fromyour own land, a guest in our lodges, and you cannot tell those who havewon the victory how they shall use it. Stand back!"
A loud laugh came from the Iroquois. The fierce old chiefs, Hiokatoo andSangerachte, and a dozen warriors thrust themselves before Timmendiquas.The woman resumed her chant, and a hundred throats pealed out with herthe chorus:
Victory and glory Aieroski gives to his children The mighty Six Nations,greatest of men.
She gave the signal anew. The ninth victim stood before her, and thenfell, cloven to the chin; then the tenth, and the eleventh, and thetwelfth, and the thirteenth, and the fourteenth, and the fifteenth, andthe sixteenth-sixteen bound men killed by one woman in less than fifteenminutes. The four in that group who were left had all the while beenstraining fearfully at their bonds. Now they had slipped or brokenthem, and, springing to their feet, driven on by the mightiest of humanimpulses, they dashed through the ring of Iroquois and into the forest.Two were hunted down by the warriors and killed, but the other two,Joseph Elliott and Lebbeus Hammond, escaped and lived to be old men,feeling that life could never again hold for them anything so dreadfulas that scene at "The Bloody Rock."
A great turmoil and confusion arose as the prisoners fled and theIndians pursued. Paul and Shif'less Sol; full of sympathy and pity forthe fugitives and having felt all the time that their turn, too, wouldcome under that dreadful tomahawk, struggled to their feet. They didnot see a form slip noiselessly behind them, but a sharp knife descendedonce, then twice, and the bands of both fell free.
"Run! run!" exclaimed the voice of Timmendiquas, low but penetrating. "Iwould save you from this!"
Amid the darkness and confusion the act of the great Wyandot was notseen by the other Indians and the renegades. Paul flashed him one lookof gratitude, and then he and Shif'less Sol darted away, choosing acourse that led them from the crowd in pursuit of the other flyingfugitives.
At such a time they might have secured a long lead without beingnoticed, had it not been for the fierce swarm of old squaws who werefirst in cruelty that night. A shrill wild howl arose, and the pointingfingers of the old women showed to the warriors the two in flight. Atthe same time several of the squaws darted forward to intercept thefugitives.
"I hate to hit a woman," breathed Shif'less Sol to Paul, "but I'm goin'to do it now."
A hideous figure sprang before them. Sol struck her face with his openhand, and with a shriek she went down. He leaped over her, althoughshe clawed at his feet as he passed, and ran on, with Paul at his side.Shots were now fired at him, but they went wild, but Paul, casting alook backward out of the corner of his eye, saw that a real pursuit,silent and deadly, had begun. Five Mohawk warriors, running swiftly,were only a few hundred yards away. They carried rifle, tomahawk, andknife, and Paul and Shif'less Sol were unarmed. Moreover, they werecoming fast, spreading out slightly, and the shiftless one, able evenat such a time to weigh the case coolly, saw that the odds were againstthem. Yet he would not despair. Anything might happen. It was night.There was little organization in the army of the Indians and of theirwhite allies, which was giving itself up to the enjoyment of scalps andtorture. Moreover, he and Paul were, animated by the love of life, whichis always stronger than the desire to give death.
Their flight led them in a diagonal line toward the mountains. Only oncedid the pursuers give tongue. Paul tripped over a root, and a triumphantyell came from the Mohawks. But it merely gave him new life. Herecovered himself in an instant and ran faster. But it was terribly hardwork. He could hear Shif'less Sol's sobbing breath by his side, and hewas sure that his own must have the same sound for his comrade.
"At any rate one uv 'em is beat," gasped Shif'less Sol. "Only four areban-in' on now."
The ground rose a little and became rougher. The lights from the Indianfires had sunk almost out of sight behind them, and a dense thicket laybefore them. Something stirred in the thicket, and the eyes of Shif'lessSol caught a glimpse of a human shoulder. His heart sank like a plummetin a pool. The Indians were ahead of them. They would be caught, andwould be carried back to become the victims of the terrible tomahawk.
The figure in the bushes rose a little higher, the muzzle of a rifle wasprojected, and flame leaped from the steel tube.
But it was neither Shif'less Sol nor Paul who fell. They heard a crybehind them, and when Shif'less Sol took a hasty glance backward he sawone of the Mohawks fall. The three who were left hesitated and stopped.When a second shot was fired from the bushes and another Mohawk wentdown, the remaining two fled.
Shif'less Sol understood now, and he rushed into the bushes, draggingPaul after him. Henry, Tom, and Long Jim rose up to receive them.
"So you wuz watchin' over us!" exclaimed the shiftless one joyously. "Itwuz you that clipped off the first Mohawk, an' we didn't even notice theshot."
"Thank God, you were here!" exclaimed Paul. "You don't know what Sol andI have seen!"
Overwrought, he fell forward, but his comrades caught him.
The Scouts of the Valley Page 10