American Family Robinson

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  Chapter Eighteenth.

  Thirty persons in the village. Their stay with the Indians. Theyproceed on their journey. Jane bitten by a rattlesnake. Taken back tothe village. Frightful effects of the poison. It causes a violent feverto set in. Fatal consequences apprehended. She becomes delirious. Thechief's unremitting exertions to counteract the disease. It slowlyabated and Jane finally recovers. A war party returns having two whiteprisoners. Fears entertained of their safety. Minawanda assists them toescape by a sound indicating that of a whippoorwill. The white men alsoaccompany them as guides. Their joy at their anticipated deliverancefrom the wilds of the forests. Miscellaneous conversation. They proceedon their flight unmolested.

  There were about thirty persons in the lodges, the rest of the Indians,with their women and children, having gone out on one of their yearlyhunting expeditions, as well for the excitement as for the supplieswhich they gather from them. These few were left to look after thevillage in the absence of the rest, and were principally those who weretoo old or ill to travel and hunt. After remaining a few days toprepare themselves, they set out, persuading an old Indian to accompanythem as a guide two days' journey, in order to get them once morestarted in the right direction. They had no hope of returning directlyto their friends. In fact, they knew that would be an impossibility todo by crossing the Sierra, and their object at that time was to find asettlement where they might know their whereabouts, and in whatdirection to go in order to return. The old Indian was positive therewere people like themselves over the mountain of snow, and knowing theymust have wandered a great way to come to it, they determined to makethe most direct route to the nearest European habitation; for they hadwandered so long that their friends had become a secondary object withthem. Their first thoughts were to free themselves from theinterminable forest, and sustain life.

  About mid-day, as they were making their way among a thick growth ofbrush, a quick rattle was heard, which they all recognized as thewarning of a deadly snake; but before they could save themselves, ithad struck its poisonous fangs deep into the fleshy part of Jane'sright foot.

  Howe saw the snake bite her, and was at her side in a moment, and witha heavy club killed the terrible reptile on the spot. He then proceededto bind the limb to prevent a free circulation of the blood, which in afew minutes would have conveyed the poison to the heart, and provedfatal. In the meantime, the chief and Sidney had been gathering anherb, which they bruised between two flat stones and poured over thewound, and put a few drops of the juice in her mouth.

  She soon began to suffer excruciating pain, the limb swelling rapidlyand turning a livid hue, while the bruised herbs which were bound overthe wound every few minutes had to be exchanged for fresh ones, sorapidly did the poison act upon them.

  "I feel it here!" said the poor girl, laying her hand on her heart; "itchokes, it suffocates me! Oh, it is terrible to die here! can you donothing more? can nothing save me?" she added, turning her eyesinquiringly from one to the other of the group around her.

  "We will do our best," said Sidney, "but that is very little," he addedbitterly.

  "Be brave, my poor child and never say _die_ while there is life. Asyet I see nothing to fear. The Indian's remedy is doing its work; wesee that by the poison it extracts," said Howe, at the same timeturning aside to hide the emotion that was welling up from his heart.

  "The antelope shall not die," said the chief, "there is another remedyif the plant can be found," and with these words he hastened away intothe forest. Her breathing now became more labored, her eye grew glassy,and languor began to pervade her whole frame. With breathless anxietythey awaited the return of the chief; for, if even successful infinding what he was in search of, he might be too late, as already lifewas waning; and as they knelt around her in speechless agony, and sawthe distorted features and glassy eye, they knew that unless someactive and powerful stimulant could be procured immediately she wouldbe dead.

  After twenty minutes' absence, though it seemed to them to be an hour,the chief returned with his hands filled with roots freshly torn fromtheir bed, and laying them between two flat stones crushed them. Thenpressing the juice into a drinking cup they had procured at the Indianvillage, held it to her lips. She made a motion as if she would drink,but her limbs were powerless, her teeth set, and every muscle rigid.With a low moan she closed her glassy eye, and hope then even fled fromher heart. Not so the chief; prying open her teeth with the aid of hishunting-knife, he poured the extract down her throat, and then with asolution of it mixed in water, washed the wound, binding over it thebruised roots from which he had extracted the antidote. He thenprocured more of the same roots,[11] extracted the juice and repeatedthe process, continuing his efforts for half an hour, when she slowlyopened her eyes, looked around, and whispered faintly, "I shall not dienow, uncle. I breathe easier," then closed her eyes again with a sweetsmile playing around her lips.

  [11] Rattlesnake root--Botanical, _Polygala senega_--being an active stimulant, will counteract the bite of this most poisonous of reptiles.

  Still the chief did not for a moment relax his exertions; he knew toowell the subtlety of the poison of the rattlesnake, but while the restwere active in building a soft couch of boughs and leaves on which tolay her, he continued extracting the antidote with as much energy as atthe first moment.

  Her skin now began to assume a more natural hue; the eye lost itsglassiness, and she could articulate with ease. An hour afterwards theswelling began to subside, and the danger was past. The chief had againsaved her life.

  He said not a word in exultation of his success, but it gleamed fromhis dark eyes, flushed his swarthy cheek, and swelled his brawny chest.Never strode he with loftier step or more regal carriage--a veryimpersonation of barbarian royalty. His superior knowledge in manyemergencies into which they were brought in their primitive mode oflife, his coolness, courage and energy under the trying circumstancesthat often occurred, commanded their voluntary reverence for theuntaught, uncivilized Indian chief. The day and night wore away, andwhen they had hoped to resume their journey they found that a fever hadsucceeded the prostration produced by the poison, and she was too illto travel. Dismayed at this new calamity, they were at a loss forawhile how to proceed. Their guide settled the point for them byinsisting that the sick girl should be conveyed on a litter back to thevillage, where she could have a better shelter, and where her wantscould be better supplied than in that lonely spot.

  This they gladly acceded to, and when the sun again set she lay tossingin feverish delirium on a couch of skins within the tent of Minawandatheir benevolent guide.

  Cooling drinks were given her, and her throbbing, burning temples lavedwith cold water, fresh from the fountain. This soothed the pain, but itdid not arrest the raging fever that burned in her veins, wasting herstrength, and reducing her to a state as helpless as that of infancy.

  The women in the village were untiring in their exertions to alleviateher suffering, and although they rendered her condition comparativelycomfortable, yet the fever grew higher and stronger each day, until shebecame deprived of both reason and strength. The chief stood by thedoor of her lodge day and night, apparently without observing anythingthat was passing around him, and with the one feeling filling hisentire soul--that of the antelope lying at the point of death, and hecould do nothing to save her. Sidney was more active, and never lefther couch, save to procure something for her. He, with Edward by herside, caressed her in her wild ravings until the excitement passed, andshe was again calm. Then they would renew their exertions to assuagethe fever, and cool the brain by laving it with water. It was all theremedy they had, and they used this freely. The ninth day of herillness the fever suddenly died away, and closing her eyes she slept aspeacefully as the sleep of infancy for half an hour, when her breathinggrew shorter, her chest heaved laboriously, and she unclosed her eyes,from which the light of reason once more shone. She whispered faintly,"Edward, come nearer; where are the rest of you? I feel so strangely!is t
his death?"

  "We are here--all here!" cried Sidney, with a broken voice; "and youknow us now, do you not, sister?"

  "Yes, I know you now; but I feel so weak, and so strangely! have I beensick long? I remember now," she added, "the snake bit me, and I ampoisoned, and shall die!"

  "No, oh! no, you will not," said Howe, in his cheering tones; "you willnot do any such thing. You are a brave girl, and will live many a longyear yet. Here is a good draught for you, take it and keep quiet, andyou will be well in a few days," he added, as he presented her somewhey he had made from goats' milk and ripe grapes. Then ordering everyone from the lodge, he shut out the light, and stationing himself byher side, bade her sleep, taking the precaution to arouse her every fewminutes to administer to her the whey. She slept at intervals tillsunset, when she again awakened perfectly conscious, and declared shefelt much better. She now improved rapidly, and in a week's time wasenabled to walk with assistance in the open air. Her appetite returnedwhich, together with the pure air, caused her rapidly to improve, andregain her strength again; but they were at a loss in what manner toprosecute their fatiguing journey with her. To set out on foot was outof the question, as she would probably give out the first day, and tobe carried on a litter she would not consent to, as she rightly arguedit was as much as one was able to do to get himself along, withoutcarrying a burthen.

  There was not a horse or a mule in the village, although the Indiansinsisted that the hunting parties that had gone out had some with them,and if they would await their return, they could obtain one for her.While hesitating what course to pursue, shouts of the returning partywere heard from the summit of the hill, and were recognized as thosethat betokened a great victory. The answer was taken up by everyinhabitant of the village, and echoed back in full chorus.

  In half an hour, the Indians, in admirable confusion, came gallopinginto the village, decorated in all the savage panoply of war; theirgrotesque features made still more repulsive and hideous by the paintwith which they were besmeared. This, together with the shouts of thewomen, and wild yells of the children, constituted a more vivid pictureof pandemonium than anything earthly.

  One group of the returning party seemed to concentrate the curiosity ofthe Indians in the village more than another, and going thither theysaw with surprise two white men confined as prisoners, their handsbound behind them with leather thongs. They looked almost worn out withfatigue and anxiety. Apprehensive for their own safety, they retreatedto the lodge of their guide, and there learned that these two men hadbeen captured three hundred miles south, and that they belonged to anoverland emigrant party, who, in a battle with the Indians, had allbeen killed, with the exception of the two, and these, with the oxen,horses, and baggage, had fallen into the hands of the savages, and wereconveyed to their village.

  "This does not look well for our own safety," said Sidney.

  "Not an arm will be raised against the pale faces who have eaten andsmoked beneath the lodge of Minawanda," said the guide, solemnly.

  "Perhaps not, with your consent," retorted Sidney, "but they may notthink it worth while to ask it."

  "The rights of hospitality are sacred with my people; let not the youngman fear; no harm will come to him," said the guide, indignantly.

  "One thing is certain, a light is breaking on our path. We have foundsome of our own race, though under unfavorable circumstances. Yet wemay learn from them how to find our homes," said the trapper,encouragingly.

  "If we get a chance to speak to them," said the chief, pointingsignificantly towards a lodge whence rose the wail of despair for awarrior who had gone out in the pride of manhood and returned not."They will be avenged for the warriors who fell in the fight with thewhites," he added, "and though they will respect us while guests ofMinawanda, they will hem us round so we cannot escape, at last fallinginto their hands, if the blood of the two prisoners do not satisfy thebereaved friends of their lost warriors."

  "We must deceive them some way and slip away privately," said thetrapper, in a subdued voice as the guide left the lodge, and wended hisway over to the lodges whence proceeded the mournful sounds.

  "Let us fly from here, now we are alone and free," said Jane,nervously. "The deepest recess of the forest is preferable to stayinghere."

  "We cannot do that; we should be discovered, brought back, and strictlyguarded, and thus be frustrated in all our chances of escaping. No, no;we want some of their horses to give us a start, besides several hoursof the night to cover our retreat," said the chief.

  "Besides this," said the trapper, "it is hardly a Christian act toleave these two men to perish by the hands of the savages. I do notthink they will offer us any harm, and we may not only effect theirescape peacefully, but induce the Indians to carry us to the nearestsettlement with their horses. We must keep a strict and vigilant watch,and see which way things turn, and act accordingly."

  The day passed and the sun had set, yet Minawanda had not returned tohis lodge, from which the wanderers had not ventured for fear offurther exasperating the Indians. This occurrence troubled them, and intruth looked ominous, as it had never occurred before, and with greatimpatience they watched for his coming. Still, hour after hour passed,and he came not, and with forebodings of evil, they proposed that oneof them should reconnoitre the village under the cover of darkness todiscover what was brewing among them. The chief volunteered hisservices, as possessing a subtlety which was unequalled, and with hisnoiseless tread, he went silently forth; but, before he had gone twentyyards from the door a hand was laid on his shoulder, and the voice ofthe guide whispered in his ear, "return to the lodge! your life dependsupon it. I will be there in an hour!"

  The chief stood irresolute a moment, then as silently returned to thelodge and related the circumstance, and asked the advice of the restwhether he had better wait or proceed.

  "I think Minawanda is our friend, and we had better do his bidding,"said the trapper.

  Silently they remained a few moments, when the sound of a light stepfell on their ear, and the _Fawn_, a child of twelve years, and adaughter of the guide stepped within the lodge, and with a startledlook stood irresolute for a moment, then going up to Jane, nestledclose to her side fixing her dark starry eyes on hers with a bewilderedgaze.

  "What would you with me?" inquired the young girl, as she endeavored toreassure her.

  "My father can no longer protect the white strangers," she replied,"but he can save them if they will place themselves under hisdirections."

  "What says the young squaw?" asked the chief, whose acute ear hadcaught the low tones of the child.

  Jane repeated what the fawn had said, when the trapper placed himselfby her side and demanded what they were to do.

  "I do not know, except that, when the Whippoorwill is heard behind thelodge, you are all to go out silently, and as the cry is heard, you areto follow the sound until you meet others who will be in waiting foryou----"

  "To lead us to the stake!" said the chief. "Is my brother mad, that helistens to this chattering, and will he run into the snare laid toentrap him?"

  "Really, chief, you see through the treachery of these savages betterthan any one else, and do credit to your education," said Sidney.

  "We will not go to them to be murdered in the dark," said Edward. "Ifthey want anything of us, here we are, and here we will be untildaylight."

  "It will then be too late," said the fawn, sadly. "My father bade mesay the two pale faced prisoners would be there, and when day broke,and it was found they had escaped, my people could not be restrained,but would sacrifice you in their stead. He would have come himself totell you this, but feared to be from the council that has been held,for fear of suspicion, as it is known to all the returned hunters thatyou are in his lodge."

  "I do not believe that Minawanda meditates treachery," said Howe. "Ifhe wanted to give us up, why take the precaution? He knows we are inhis lodge, and he could lead his warriors to take us any moment, ifthat was his object. I think he is sincere, and, for
one, am willing toplace myself in his hands."

  "I, too, am willing to trust him," said Jane. "We cannot make mattersworse, and it may be the means of our return to our friends. The sightof others inspires hope, and if we could get away with them, they couldprobably lead us out of the forest."

  Their conversation was here cut short by the clear shrill notes of theWhippoorwill, close behind the lodge.

  "There it is," cried the fawn, bounding to her feet. "Go! go! do nothesitate, or you will be lost!"

  "Come," said the trapper, taking Jane by the hand; "I feel assuredthere is truth in that child's face. Let us hasten on."

  "If you go, I do," said Edward; "I can stand as much, and more than youcan."

  "And I," said Sidney.

  "If the antelope goes, I will go to defend her," said the chief,following, as the trapper, with Jane, moved away in the darkness, inthe direction whence the sound had come. Hurrying into the thick forestthat skirted the back of the lodge, they were at a loss which directionto take, when again some distance ahead the shrill cry burst on theirears, and they noiselessly and rapidly advanced as near as they couldimagine a quarter of a mile, when it was again heard ahead of them.Still following, they travelled about the same distance again, when thehand of Minawanda was laid on Howe's arm, as he said--"Stand still amoment!--I will apprise the others of your presence!" and disappearingin the darkness, they heard him talking low, but rapidly, for a fewmoments; then he once more stood before them, and bidding them follow,led them on a short distance where, by the faint glimmer of starlight,they saw men and a number of horses standing. "Mount!" said Minawanda;"there are horses for all. Here is the best one for the young squaw;"so saying, he lifted Jane from the ground, and seated her firmly on herhorse's back--and placing the bridle in her hand, turned to assist therest; but they had all mounted, and were waiting directions which wayto proceed. Up to this moment they had not heard the voices nor seenthe forms of those who were to accompany them, save by the duskyoutlines which did not even reveal the number, and so quiet and rapidlyhad the whole transpired, that they had no time to think of anything.

  "Guides! move on!" said Minawanda; "follow, brothers, they will leadyou to your own people--and when there, forget not that a generous,disinterested deed may be performed by an Indian, although he riskslife in so doing." So saying, he shook hands with them all in rapidsuccession, and darting away, they were alone with the guides, whomthey saw were two in number, and mounted like themselves.

  "Well, Jones," one of them said, in a very subdued tone, "if this isnot one of the queerest pieces of work I ever saw, then call me anArab."

  "Never mind, Cole," the other answered, "push ahead as fast as you can,or the Indians will broil us yet. We must get a good start to cheat therascally red-skins."

  "Hush about the broiling, you make me nervous. How about our company?All there?" again sung out the one called by his companion, Jones.

  "Here! all right; five of us, following we do not know who, nor wherehe will lead us to," said Howe, in a merry tone.

  "Don't know? Well, perhaps you never heard of Jones, son of old MajorJones, away down in old Connecticut. That is me, and I guess you willnot be sorry you are following me, especially as Cole says, we were allto be broiled in a heap by those red skins."

  "That I shall not, and right glad I am of your services to help us outof as deep an entanglement as I think ever a set of Christians gotinto," said the trapper.

  "Well, I do not know, but I guess we will cheat them; the moon will beup soon, and then we can ride faster," replied Jones.

  "Are you sure of the way you have to go?" asked Sidney, who was stillnervous about getting bewildered in the forest.

  "I guess I am," replied Jones. "Did I not come over it this morning?"

  "Yes, but you might miss your way," returned Sidney.

  "Might miss! Why young man, where was you educated, to learn thepossibility of doing such a thing? There is no such word as failing toa downeaster."

  "I think you must have failed once, or you would not be here," retortedSidney, facetiously.

  "The best failure for us that was ever made," said Jane, earnestly. "Weshall find our way out by that means."

  "Only that object is attained, I do not care for the rest," remarkedEdward. "See yonder the moon is rising, and welcome enough will be itslight."

  They made their way quite rapidly, and as mile after mile was placedbetween them and the village, their hopes of eluding their pursuerswere strengthened. Jane did not feel the fatigue, so excited had shebecome, although, Howe had taken the precaution soon after theystarted, of riding close by her side, so that he could assist her at amoment's warning; for he knew she was too weak to bear such rapidtravelling over fallen trees, stones, brush, and marshy ground long,and he feared that a reaction would ensue. He did not know how stronglythe love and desire to reach home again burned in her heart,strengthening by its power every muscle and nerve.