The Settlers: A Tale of Virginia

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER TWELVE.

  We must now go back to the moment when Gilbert and Fenton, anxious toobtain some venison for themselves and their hungry companions, werecreeping along in the hopes of getting a shot at the deer they had seenfrom the fort. Having at length, as they supposed, got close enough tothe deer to make sure of it, Gilbert was on the point of firing when,hearing Fenton cry out, he looked round and saw his friend, to hisdismay, in the hands of several Indians; while others, springingforward, seized his arms before he could even point his gun towardsthem.

  It was useless, they knew, to plead for mercy; the Indians, indeed,threatened them by signs with instant death should they cry out.

  They were hurried on at a rapid rate till they reached a ford across thestream, which ran as they supposed by their camp. On and on they went,six only of their captors remaining with them, while the main bodyreturned into the forest.

  "They cannot go on for ever," observed Gilbert, "and as they must campat some time or other, we must then look out for an opportunity toescape. It would be a shame to our manhood were we to allow ourselvesto be held captive by six Indians."

  "I am ready for any plan you may propose," answered Fenton, "but it willbe no easy matter to get free without weapons and with our arms securedbehind our backs."

  "If they leave us together to-night, I will try what my teeth can do,"answered Gilbert, "in casting loose the bonds which bind your hands, andyou can then render the same good service to me."

  "I pray that we may have the chance," remarked Fenton, "though, when ourarms are free, how we are to escape from the lynx-eyed natives I knownot."

  "That must be as opportunity offers," said Gilbert.

  The possibility of escaping kept up their spirits, and they moved alongwith apparent willingness in the direction the Indians wished them togo. They had thus made considerable progress before nightfall, when theIndians halted in a small open space in the midst of a thick wood, wherethey lighted a fire and prepared, as it seemed, to pass the night there.Much to Gilbert and Fenton's disappointment, however, the cunningnatives placed them apart, one on each side of the fire, though theygave them to eat some of the venison and dried fish which they carriedin their wallets.

  "We must put a good face on the matter, and not let them suspect ourintentions," observed Gilbert. "Let us sing them a merry stave. Itwill make them fancy we are thoughtless about the future, and they willdeem it less necessary to watch us closely. No matter the words,provided the tune is such as to take their fancy."

  Thereon they struck up an air which they had often sung on board ship.The Indians nodded their heads approvingly. Next morning two of theIndians went out hunting, and on their return with a small deer, sharedthe flesh with their prisoners. After this they travelled on as before,and continued moving to the northward for two more days. Every milethey went they felt that their chance of escape was lessening, still,like brave lads, they did not give way to despair. They tried to learnfrom the Indians what had become of their party; they understood thatthey were on a war-path, but would ere long overtake them.

  "To-night or never we must make our attempt to escape, Ned," saidGilbert. "I have heard tell of the cruel tricks of these Indians, whoonly spare the lives of their prisoners at first, that they may carrythem to their villages to show them to their squaws, before they putthem to death with the most cruel tortures. Such may be the lot theyintend for us, and such an ending is not to my taste any more than it isto yours, I am sure."

  "That it is not," said Fenton; "and if we can once free our arms and gethold of our weapons, we may, at all events, have a brave tussle forlife."

  Another night came. Gilbert lay down some way farther off from the firethan usual, and Fenton, pretending to stumble as he passed, threwhimself down by his side. Their guards, taking no notice of this,allowed them to remain where they were, while they set themselves tocooking part of a deer they had shot during the day. The Indians, whohad been ranging two at a time over the country in search of game, weremore tired than usual, and after gorging themselves with venison, laydown to sleep, one only remaining on guard to keep up the fire. He,too, after piling on more wood, which, being green, did not blaze up,sat down, and in a short time Gilbert saw him stretch himself at hislength, a loud snore announcing that he, also, had gone to sleep.Gilbert had been gradually getting his head closer and closer toFenton's arms; he now in eager haste began to gnaw away at the leathernthongs which bound them. The task was not an easy one, and such as asailor only, accustomed to all sorts of knots, could have accomplished.It was done at length, when, lifting up his head, he observed that theIndians were still fast asleep. Fenton on this, slowly rolling round,with his hands at liberty, quickly cast off Gilbert's bonds. To gethold of their weapons was their next task. Fortunately, their fire-armsand ammunition-belts had been carried by the Indians who lay nearest tothem; they marked this while the fire was still blazing, and thereforeknew where to find them. While Fenton crawled towards one, Gilbert inthe same way approached the other,--now stooping, now moving a fewinches, till he felt his hands on his weapon. Fenton eagerly graspinghis sword, rose to his feet, and drawing it from its scabbard, pointingGilbert to do the same, made as if he would kill the sleeping Indians.Gilbert lifted up his hand to implore him to desist just as his weaponwas about to descend, scarcely able to refrain from crying out. Fentonobeyed him. He then signed to him that they must next, if possible,possess themselves of the Indians' bows. The attempt was a daring one,but they so lay that they could be lifted without disturbing theirowners. Though they could not carry them off, the fire would renderthem useless. And now, seeing how soundly the Indians slept, theylifted them one after the other, and drove their ends among the burningembers. The Indians' tomahawks were in their belts, or they would havetreated them in the same manner. Any further delay would be dangerous:stooping down so that, should either of the Indians awake, there mightbe less chance of their being seen, they made their way into the forest.Should they keep to the south they might meet their approaching foes.They therefore turned to the east, hoping thus either to make their wayto the sea or to reach the village of some friendly tribe. Everyinstant they expected to be pursued; but as they stopped to listen nosound reached their ears, and they continued their course, guided by thestars, of which they could occasionally catch sight amid the openings inthe trees. Should they once get to a distance, they had hopes that theIndians would not discover their trail till the morning, which wouldgive them a long start. After going some distance they gained the opencountry, across which they could make their way without difficulty.Their spirits raised with the feeling of regained liberty, and thethoughts of escaping the cruel death or galling captivity which wouldhave been their lot, they sped on.

  Daylight at length broke; the rising sun now served them as a guide, andthey were pushing on with his rays in their eyes, faint from theirexertions, when they saw before them a broad river, on the opposite sideof which, with a wood beyond, appeared an Indian village, hithertounperceived. Descending the hill full in view of the village, they mustthey knew be seen. Making a virtue of necessity, Gilbert proposed thatthey should at once boldly enter the village and demand the hospitalityof its inhabitants. A canoe lay on the bank: stepping into it, theypaddled across to a landing-place, near which already a number of womenand children and a few men were collected, wondering who the palefacestrangers could be. Gilbert stepped boldly on shore, followed byFenton.

  "We have come as friends," he shouted, "and our wish is to be at peacewith you, and with all the children of this country. Conduct us to yourchief."

  The bold bearing of the two youths and their good looks produced afavourable effect on the gentler portion of the inhabitants, who crowdedround them, eager to examine them more nearly; whereat Gilbert and hiscompanion smiled and offered their hands, making every sign they couldthink of to show their friendly feelings. At this the women looked wellpleased, and inquired whether they were hungry.

 
; "Indeed we are, fair dames," answered Fenton, making signs, "andthankful should we be for any food you can bring us."

  On this several of the younger women hurried to their wigwams and soonreturned with a supply of fish and plantains and several fruits, whichthey placed on the grass in a shady spot under a tree before thestrangers, who set to with a good will, nodding right and left inacknowledgment to their entertainers. They had just finished when theysaw an old Indian, whom they knew by his dress to be a chief,accompanied by several councillors, approaching them. They rose andadvanced to meet him, Gilbert, who spoke the Indian language better thanhis companion, shouting out that they were glad to see so renowned achief, whose friendship they desired to make. The chief, who itappeared had heard rumours of the fresh arrival of the English in thecountry, supposing that they were to be followed by a large army,treated them accordingly with much courtesy and respect, and assuredthem that everything in his village was at their disposal, and that itwould be his pride to entertain them as long as they remained.

  Thus far they believed that they were safe. They, however, had fearsthat the Indians from whom they had escaped might follow on their trail,and come to demand them. They therefore proposed, after resting, to setout again, hoping in course of time to reach the sea. The old chief,however, though he made them welcome, had no intention of letting themdepart. When the next day they expressed a wish to continue theirjourney, he made the excuse that enemies were abroad who might taketheir lives, and as they were his guests that the blame would rest withhim. They had expected before this the arrival of the Indians from whomthey had escaped; but as another day passed by and they did not appear,they guessed truly that the tribes were at enmity, and that theircaptors had not dared to pursue them. It was, however, probable thatthey might be lurking in the neighbourhood, in the hopes of overtakingthem should they venture from the village; they therefore, with lessunwillingness than they would otherwise have felt, consented to remain,hoping every day that the chief would send an escort with them to thecoast, which they supposed was at no great distance. When, however,they made the request to him, he observed that it was many days' journeyoff, and that the inhabitants were enemies, who would attack his peopleshould he send them. Thus day after day, and week after week went by;and so strictly watched were they that they could find no opportunity ofescaping. They were treated all the time, however, by the women askindly as at first; and the chiefs two daughters gave them tounderstand, that, if they would promise to remain, they should becometheir husbands and leaders of the tribe. Neither Gilbert nor Fenton,however, desired this honour, though they were too wise directly torefuse the proposal.

  Their captivity being light, they were tolerably happy, and would havebeen more so had they been able to let their friends know that they weresafe. At last, the chief confided to them the cause of their detention:a tribe, between whom and his people an hereditary feud had existed, hadof late years always proved victorious, the reason being, as heobserved, that they had a white man dwelling among them, who, althoughhe did not himself fight, always directed their counsels; and now, as hehad got two white men, he hoped to beat his enemies, especially if theyaccompanied him to battle, which he had made up his mind that theyshould do. On receiving this announcement, Gilbert and Fenton consultedtogether as to how they should act. Gilbert declared he had no wish tofight any Indians who had not molested him. As to that, Fenton thoughtthat there was no great harm, and that it was their duty to help thosewho had befriended them. "If the Indians go out to fight, and we arecompelled to accompany them, we may as well help them to gain thevictory, and bring the war sooner to a conclusion," he answered. Hisreasoning, however, did not satisfy Gilbert.

  "Have you considered who the white man possibly is of whom the chiefspeaks?" he asked. "My idea is, that, if he has been among them forseveral years, he must be my father; and, if so, I would never consentto fight against his friends, though he himself were not in the battle."

  "I should say, on the contrary," said Fenton. "Supposing the white manspoken of is your father, they must have detained him against his will,and therefore, if we can conquer them, we shall be doing him goodservice by setting him free."

  The next day there was a great stir in the village, and warriors fromall directions came flocking in, adorned with war-paint and feathers.The chief made them a long harangue, and informed them that his whitesons were going forth with their lightning-makers to assist them infighting their foes, and that victory was certain. As Gilbert stillhesitated, the chief told him very plainly that go he must or take theconsequences; so, Fenton having agreed to help the chief, he resolved tomake the best of a bad matter. He and Fenton also intended to try andlearn the whereabouts of the white man and to protect him, whoever hewas, from their friends.

  The whole force which had been marshalled overnight set forth some hoursbefore daylight--not marching like an English army, shoulder toshoulder, but following each other in several lines, each headed by awarrior of renown, like so many snakes stealing along the grass.Gilbert and Fenton followed in the march, one behind the other. Thusthey proceeded across the country; the lines never interfering with, butalways keeping in sight of, each other. At night they encamped roundseveral fires, a strong guard keeping watch over those who slept. Theyhoped, before the evening of the next day, to reach the territory oftheir enemies. The following evening, after a short rest in a thickforest, where no fires were lighted which might betray them, they againset forward, expecting ere long to come upon a village, which they hopedto take by surprise and put all the inhabitants to death.

  "I will not assist them in so horrible a butchery," said Gilbert; "butperchance while they are engaged in it we may find an opportunity ofescaping and letting the white man know the danger he and his friendsare in."

  The Indians now advanced more cautiously even than before, takingadvantage of all the shelter the country afforded till night came on,when, after going some distance, a sign from the chief was passed fromline to line. They halted in a thick wood, where they lay down, not aword being uttered, Gilbert and Fenton following their example. As theythus lay in perfect silence, they heard human voices, the laughter ofyoung people, the barking of dogs, and other sounds, coming, evidently,from the village to be attacked. Soon the voices died away as theinhabitants went to rest. The night passed by, the Indians watchingeagerly for the signal to advance. It was given about an hour beforedawn, when the band of warriors crept rapidly forward like tigers aboutto spring on their prey. Gilbert felt much inclined to fire off hispiece to give the doomed inhabitants the alarm, but he feared that heand Fenton would lose their lives; and that the inhabitants, not havingtime to collect for their defence, would still be put to death. As theyapproached, the lines separated till the entire village was surrounded,when the silence of night was broken by a succession of fearfulwar-whoops, and the warriors rushed forward to their work ofdestruction. At that moment, Gilbert plucking Fenton by the arm, theybounded off, unperceived by the old chief or the rest with him, theironly aim being to escape from the scene of slaughter. On they went at arate which would have made it difficult even for the Indians to overtakethem. Day was breaking when they found themselves close to a river; asthey glanced for an instant back, they could see the flames ascendingfrom the burning village, round which the work of slaughter was goingforward. As they could have done nothing to prevent it, it only incitedthem to fresh exertions to escape from the power of the savages.Happily the darkness would prevent their trail being followed, evenshould their escape be discovered, which it was not likely to be forsome time, engaged as the Indians were; while, in the neighbourhood ofthe village, it would probably be obliterated by the feet of theinhabitants who might have attempted to escape.

  By following the course of the river, they hoped to meet with a canoe,of which they would not scruple to take possession. If not, Gilbertproposed that they should build a raft, to which they would rather trustthemselves, imperfectly constructed as it might b
e, than to the tendermercies of the savages.

  "For my part I would rather swim for it," cried Fenton.

  "We might throw them off the scent by so doing," said Gilbert; "but thenwe should lose our arms or damage our powder; let us keep that dry, andbe able to fight like men for our lives if need be."

  "You are right, Gilbert," answered his companion; "you see we have clearground ahead, we may make play over it."

  They bounded on across a wide meadow which skirted the river for somedistance, hoping that they might not be discovered till they had gainedthe shelter of the forest beyond. Never, probably, had they run sofast; the hope of securing their liberty gave wings to their feet, whileas yet they felt able to continue their flight for many a mile more.How many they had accomplished they were unable to calculate, but atlength they were compelled to stop for want of breath. Throwingthemselves on the ground, they lay listening attentively for any soundwhich might betoken the approach of pursuers, but except the notes ofthe song-birds, and the harsher screams of the wild-fowl as they skimmedalong the banks, nothing could they hear, and after resting for a fewminutes they again, with renewed strength, sped onwards. Still, as theyran, they looked for a canoe, but none could they discover.

  "We shall have to build a raft, after all," said Gilbert; "but nomatter, if it will float us we will manage to get down to the sea, andthen make our way along the shore till we reach the mouth of the JamesRiver."

  "Let us first get beyond the reach of our late friends," answeredFenton: "it would not be safe to stop as yet, for, depend on it, theywill pursue us if they once discover our trail."

  Gilbert agreeing with this, they sped on as before. The country beforethem was again partially open, here and there interspersed with clumpsof trees and copses, where the depth of soil allowed their growth.

  They had just passed through a small wood when they saw before them atall figure proceeding in the same direction in which they were going,but far more leisurely. "Can it be an Indian?" exclaimed Fenton,placing his hand on Gilbert's arm for a moment as they stopped toobserve him.

  "He wears a dress of skins and mocassins; he has a quiver on his back,and bow in his hand," observed Gilbert.

  "Yes," replied Fenton, "but no Indian has his head covered with a hatlike that, and see, if I mistake not, he has a sword girded to his side,such as an Indian never carries."

  "Then let us overtake him," exclaimed Gilbert; "should he prove to be anenemy, we are two to one, we need not fear him, although my hope is thathe is a friend."

  "On, then," cried Fenton, and, setting off, they quickly gained on thestranger. Hearing their footsteps, he turned and faced them,cautiously, as he did so, fixing an arrow in his bow. The moment he sawthem, however, he withdrew it, letting the arrow fall to the ground, andhastened with hurried strides towards them. They now saw that he wasindeed a white man, with a flowing long beard, which made him appearolder than he really was. He looked from one to the other with aninquiring gaze. Gilbert's heart bounded within him.

  "Can it be?" exclaimed the stranger, as he stretched out his arms. "Artthou Gilbert Audley?"

  "Yes, father, yes," exclaimed Gilbert, as he sprang forward, and thenext instant was clasped to the breast of Captain Audley.

  "I had heard that thou wert far off, my boy," said Captain Audley, "andlittle did I expect to see thee, and was even now on my way to obtainthe aid of some of our countrymen, who are not a day's voyage from this,to rescue thee from the hands of those who held thee in bondage. Andthis is the son of my noble friend, Sir Edward Fenton," he continued,stretching out his hand to Gilbert's companion. A few words sufficed,to explain how he knew all this. Gilbert then told him of their escapefrom the Indians, and of the probability of their being pursued.

  "Then we must not tarry here longer," said Captain Audley, "though Ifear that my weary limbs will not carry me as fast over the ground asyour young ones have brought you along. It were better for you tohasten on rather than run the risk of being overtaken by the savages."

  "No, no, father! having once found you, we will not desert you,"exclaimed Gilbert.

  "That we will not, sir," said Fenton, "though overtaken by a whole hostof pursuers, we shall be three to oppose them, while we may use a stouttree as a fortress, behind which we may find shelter, and with fire-armsin our hands, while our ammunition lasts we may keep at bay any numberwho may come against us."

  "We will rather strive to avoid them without shedding of blood," saidCaptain Audley; "I have seen so much slaughter since I have dwelt amongthese benighted savages that I pray I may live and die in peace, withoutbeing compelled to draw another drop of blood from the veins of myfellow-creatures--but on, lads, on, we must not longer waste the timewhen relentless foes are following us, and sure I am that the savageswill not allow you to escape without an attempt to recover you."

  Saying this, Captain Audley took his son's arm, and together theyhastened on in the direction they had before been proceeding. Still, ashe had said, he found that he could not run at the speed at which theyhad been going. Both Gilbert and Fenton, however, endeavoured to assurehim that it was fast enough to enable them still to keep ahead of theirpursuers. In this, however, they were wrong: scarcely had theyproceeded more than a league when Gilbert, striking his foot against aroot, stumbled, and as he recovered himself, turning his head he saw alarge band of Indians appearing above the brow of a slight hill they hadcrossed half a mile or so back. The cry he uttered made his companionslook in the same direction.

  "We shall have to try your plan, Fenton," he said in a tone which lackednot cheerfulness. "Father, under your eye we shall fight withconfidence."

  "We have time, at all events, to choose our ground," said CaptainAudley, looking round; "yonder tree by the river's bank will serve ourpurpose, and at the last, should your ammunition fail, and my arrows allbe shot away, we may plunge into the stream and swim along it till wegain the opposite bank, whence we can float down the current on a rafttill we meet our countrymen, encamped, as I hear, some leagues on--though I know not their exact position." This was said as they weremaking their way towards a huge tree the roots of which projecting farinto the water, left the ground on the near side sufficiently smooth toenable them to slip round it for the purpose of firing. As they hadseen the Indians, they knew that they must themselves have beendiscovered. They had but little time to wait, for the savages with loudcries were rapidly approaching, exhibiting on their spears the scalpsthey had that morning taken from their unsuspecting foes, surprised inthe village.

  Gilbert and Fenton quickly loaded and stood ready to fire directly anarrow should be drawn against them. The savages, however, having gotalmost, within range of their pieces, halted, unwilling to exposethemselves to the deadly balls, of whose searching power they had somuch dread. Gilbert, who lay sheltered by a high root, observed thelarger portion of them moving away to the left, evidently with theintention of surrounding the tree which now afforded them shelter.

  "The cunning redskins think they have us in a trap," he said; "but thetree will still serve our purpose and those who approach will pay dearfor their boldness."

  The Indians, however, still kept at a distance, though he caught sightof them moving round the clumps of trees towards the east. He andFenton stood ready with their pieces to pick off the first who shouldventure near enough to be reached. At length they appeared, advancingunder such shelter as the trees afforded, each Indian with an arrow inhis bow ready to shoot.

  "Now," cried Gilbert, "my piece covers one of their chief men; have youmarked another?"

  The Indians at that instant set up one of those fearful yells which theyuse to intimidate their foes. It was replied to by a cheer which couldcome from none but British throats.

  "Stay," cried Captain Audley, "we shall be saved without firing a shot:here come our friends."

  The Indians heard the cheer, and casting their eyes down the stream,instantly sprang back to regain the shelter they had just quitted. Afew shots we
re heard fired among the trees, which considerably hastenedtheir flight, though none were hit, and long before the boat pullingagainst the current could reach the tree, every Indian on that side haddisappeared, while the rest were seen retreating at full speed towardsthe hill over which they had come. Captain Audley and his companionsnow hastened on to meet the boat. The first person who sprang on shorewas Vaughan, who knew him even before Gilbert had time to shout, "Hereis our father!"

  They were all quickly on board, for though some proposed following theIndians, Captain Audley urged them to spare those who could no longerinjure them, and might, he hoped, with proper treatment become theirfriends. Having greeted Roger and Oliver, and thanked them and theirfollowers for the exertions they had made to rescue him, he proposedthat they should forthwith descend the river and get speedily on boardthe _Rainbow_. He explained that Wamsutah had willingly released him onhis promise to send back a ransom. Having stopped for a brief space oftime to bid farewell to Oncagua, promising him also a present to consolehim for the loss of Virginia, they continued their voyage down theriver, the rapids, under Ben's pilotage, being passed in safety.

  As may be supposed, they received a warm greeting from Captain Layton,who declared that the satisfaction he felt at the recovery of his oldfriend was the greatest he had ever enjoyed. The _Rainbow_ wasimmediately got under weigh, and without the loss of a single member ofher crew, and with the recovered ones on board, in addition to the youngmaiden, she returned to James Town.