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diff --git a/33352-h/33352-h.htm b/33352-h/33352-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9249e8d --- /dev/null +++ b/33352-h/33352-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4496 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Little Oskaloo, or The White Whirlwind, by T. C. Harbaugh. + </title> +<style type="text/css"> + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; } +.header {width: 50%; margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 25%; } +.header td {vertical-align: text-top;} +.tnote { border-style: dashed; border-width: 1px; padding: 2em; text-align: left; +margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; font-size: 90%; border-color: red; +} +.center {text-align: center;} +.ads {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;} +.figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} +.books {margin-left: 36.5%; margin-right: 30%; text-indent: -3.5em;} +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} +.sans {font-family: sans-serif;} +.center {text-align: center;} +.tleft {text-align: left;} +.tright {text-align: right;} +.tcenter {text-align: center;} +.loc {font-size: 65%; text-align: center; } +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 68%; text-align: right;} +.fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} +.blockquote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 90%; } +.superscript {vertical-align:super; font-size:.9em; line-height:.5em} +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; /* all headings centered */clear: both;} +.pagenum {display: inline; + position: absolute; right: 2%; + padding: 1px 3px; + font-size: small; + font-style: normal; + font-variant:normal; + font-weight:normal; + text-align: right; + text-decoration: none; + color: #444; } +</style> + + + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Oskaloo, by Thomas Chalmers Harbaugh + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Little Oskaloo + or, The White Whirlwind + +Author: Thomas Chalmers Harbaugh + +Release Date: August 4, 2010 [EBook #33352] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE OSKALOO *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Jennie Gottschalk and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tnote">Transcriber’s Note: <i>Small punctuation errors have been silently +corrected. Spelling errors are listed at the end of the document.</i></div> + +<table class="header"><tr><td class="tleft"><b>Complete in one Number.</b></td><td class="tright"><b>Price, 5 Cents.</b></td></tr></table> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<img src="images/nickel.png" width="575px" height="116" alt="NICKEL LIBRARY" /><br /> +</div> + +<div class="loc"><p>Entered according to Act of Congress by <span class="smcap">Pictorial Printing Co.</span> In the office of the Librarian at Washington. D. C., in the year 1877</p></div> + +<hr style="width:50%" /> + +<table class="header"><tr><td class="tleft"><b>SERIES ONE.</b></td><td class="tcenter"><b>CHICAGO.</b></td><td class="tright"><b>NUMBER 17</b></td></tr></table> + +<hr style="width:50%" /> +<h1>LITTLE OSKALOO,<a name="FNanchor_A" id="FNanchor_A" href="#Footnote_A" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /><br /> + +OR,<br /><br /> + +THE WHITE WHIRLWIND.</h1> + +<h2><br /><br />BY T. C. HARBAUGH.</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<img src="images/image.png" width="550px" height="517px" alt="Trailers of the Forest" /><br /><br /> +</div> + +<div class="center"><b>THE TRAILERS OF THE FOREST.—See <a href="#Page_4">page 4</a>.</b><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></div> + +<h2 id="ch1">CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>HISTORY AND A MYSTERY.</h3> + + +<p>If, in the month of July, 1794, an observing white man could +have traveled unmolested from the banks of the Ohio river due +north to the famous Maumee rapids, he would have been struck +with the wonderful activity manifested in the various Indian +villages on his route.</p> + +<p>No signs of idleness would have greeted his eye; the young +warrior did not recline in the shadow of his birchen lodge +enjoying the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2"></a>2</span>comforts of summer life in mid forest. If his image +was reflected in the clear streams, it was but for a moment, as +his lithe canoe shot from bank to bank. Everything between the +two rivers portended war.</p> + +<p>Indian runners were constantly departing and arriving at the +several native villages, and excited groups of Shawnees, +Delawares and Wyandots discussed—not the latest deer trails nor +the next moon-feast, but the approaching contest for the mastery +of power.</p> + +<p>A few years had passed away since they had met and conquered +Harmar and St. Clair. Those bloody victories had rendered the +Indian bold and aggressive. He believed himself invincible, and +pointed with pride to the scalps taken on the ill-fated 4th of +November, ’91.</p> + +<p>But a new foe had advanced from the south—treading in the +tracks of St. Clair’s butchered troops, but with his stern eye +fixed on victory. The Indians were beginning to exhibit signs of +alarm—signs first exhibited at the British posts in the +““Northwestern Territory,” where the powers and generalship of +Wayne were known and acknowledged.</p> + +<p>It was the impetuous, Mad Anthony who led the advancing columns +through the Ohio forests. He had entered the blood-drenched +territory with the victory of Stony Point to urge him on to +nobler deeds, and with the firm determination of punishing the +tribes, as well as of avenging the defeat of his predecessors.</p> + +<p>Tidings of his advance spread like wildfire from village to +village, and councils became the order of day and night alike.</p> + +<p>The Indians knew the Blacksnake, as they called Wayne, and some, +in their fear, counseled peace. But that was not to be thought +of by the chiefs and the young Hotspurs whose first scalps had +been torn from the heads of Butler’s men.</p> + +<p>Such sachems as Little Turtle, Blue Jacket, and Bockhougahelas +stirred the Indian heart, and not a few words of encouragement +came from the British forts on the Maumee.</p> + +<p>Simon Girty and kindred spirits moved from tribe to tribe +underrating Wayne before the august councils, until a united cry +of “war to the knife!” ascended to the skies.</p> + +<p>The chase suddenly lost its charms to the scarlet hunter; the +dandy turned from his mirror to the rifle; the very air seemed +heavy with war.</p> + +<p>The older warriors were eager to lay their plans before any one +who would listen; they said that Wayne would march with St. +Clair’s carelessness, and affirmed that the order of Indian +battle, so successful on <i>that</i> occasion, would drive the +Blacksnake from the territory.</p> + +<p>Under the Indian banner—if the plume of Little Turtle can be +thus designated—the warriors of seven tribes were marshalling. +There were the Miamis, the Pottawatamies, Delawares, Shawnees, +Chippewas, Ottawas, and Senecas; and in the ranks of each nation +stood not a few white renegades.</p> + +<p>It was a formidable force to oppose the victor of Stony Point, +and the reader of our forest romance will learn with what +success the cabal met.</p> + +<p>We have thought best to prelude our story with the glimpses at +history just given, as it enables the reader to obtain an idea +of the situation of affairs in the locality throughout which the +incidents that follow take place.</p> + +<hr style="width:25%" /> + +<p>It was near the close of a sultry day in July, 1794, that two +men reached the right bank of the Maumee about ten miles below +Fort Defiance, which Wayne had erected and garrisoned.</p> + +<p>They looked like Wyandot warriors, painted for the warpath. They +were athletic men, and one, as could be seen despite the +profusion of paint which his face wore, was at least twenty +years the other’s senior.</p> + +<p>Long-barreled rifles were trailed at their sides, and their +belts carried the Indian’s inseparable companions—the tomahawk +and scalping knife.</p> + +<p>“There goes the sun,” said the youngest of the pair in +unmistakable and melodious English. “Look at the old planet, +Wolf Cap, if you want to see him before he goes to bed. These +are dangerous times, and one does not know when the sun sets if +he will be permitted to greet it in the morning.”</p> + +<p>“That is so, Harvey,” was the reply, in the brusque tone of the +rough frontiersman, and the speaker looked at the magnificent +god of day whose last streaks of light were crimsoning the +water. “There was a time when I didn’t care if I never beheld +the sun again. It was that night when I came home and found no +house to shelter me; but a dead family among a heap of smoking +ruins, and in a tree hard by a tomahawk buried to the handle.”</p> + +<p>“You have told me,” the younger said, as if to spare his +companion the pain of narrating the story of the Indian descent +upon his cabin in Kentucky.</p> + +<p>“So I have, but I never grow weary of talking about it. It makes +me think of the revenge I have taken, and it nerves my arm anew. +Boy,” and the speaker touched the youth’s shoulder with much +tenderness, “boy, I was goin’ to say that I hope the Indians +will never do you such an injury.”</p> + +<p>“I hope not, Wolf Cap; but I hate them all the same.”</p> + +<p>The frontiersman did not reply for a moment, but looked across +the river longingly and sad.</p> + +<p>“Harvey,” he said, suddenly starting up, “we have been separated +for four days. Have you heard of him?”</p> + +<p>“Of——” the young scout hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Of Jim Girty, of course.”</p> + +<p>“No; but we may obtain some news of him in a few moments.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3"></a>3</span>“In a few moments? I do not understand you.”</p> + +<p>“I will tell you. I am here by appointment,” said the youth. “In +a few moments I hope to meet a person who will give me valuable +information concerning the hostiles. She——”</p> + +<p>“A woman?” interrupted the oldest scout. “Boy, you must not +trust these Indian girls too far.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know she is an Indian girl?” asked Harvey Catlett, +starting.</p> + +<p>“Because there are precious few white girls in these parts. +Don’t trust her further than you can see her, Harvey. I would +like to take a squint at the dusky girl.”</p> + +<p>The youth was about replying when the dip of paddles fell upon +his practiced ears, and Wolf Cap started back from the water’s +edge, for he, too, had caught the sound.</p> + +<p>“Indians!” he said, and the click of his rifle was not heard six +feet away, but the youth’s painted hand covered the flint.</p> + +<p>“No enemy at any rate,” he whispered, looking in the scout’s +face. “Stay here till I return. It is Little Moccasin.”</p> + +<p>Without fear, but cautiously, Harvey Catlett, Wayne’s youngest +and trustiest trailer, glided to the edge of the water, where he +was joined by a canoe containing a single person.</p> + +<p>His giant companion rose, and, full of curiosity, tried to +distinguish the features of the canoe’s occupant, who was met +with a tender welcome at the hands of the young scout.</p> + +<p>But the sun had entirely set, and the couple formed dark +silhouettes on a ghostly background.</p> + +<p>For many minutes the conversation continued at the boat, and the +impatient Wolf Cap at last began to creep forward as if upon a +napping foe.</p> + +<p>“I want to get a glimpse at that girl,” he was saying to his +eager self. “If I think she is soft soapin’ the young feller, +why, this shall be their last meetin’.”</p> + +<p>The young couple did not suspect the scout’s movements, and as +he crouched not twenty feet from the boat and within ear shot, +he was surprised to hear Catlett say:</p> + +<p>“I’ll let you go when I have shown you to my friend. He wants to +see you. Come, girl.”</p> + +<p>Wolf Cap saw a lithe, girlish figure slip nimbly from the canoe, +and when the youth turned his face toward the forest, as if to +speak his name, he rose.</p> + +<p>“Here I am,” he said. “Forgive me, boy, but I’ve been watchin’ +you. Couldn’t help it, as you talked so long. So this is Little +Moccasin?”</p> + +<p>As the border man uttered the euphonious title he stooped, for +he was almost unnaturally tall, and peered inquisitively into +the girl’s face.</p> + +<p>It was a pretty face, oval and faultlessly formed. The skin was +not so dark as a warrior’s, and the eyes were soft and full of +depth. Wolf Cap did not study the close-fitting garments, well +beaded and fringed, nor did he glance at the tiny, almost +fairy-like moccasins which she wore.</p> + +<p>It was the face that enchained his attention.</p> + +<p>All at once his hand fell from Little Moccasin’s shoulder, and +he started back, saying in a wild, incautious tone:</p> + +<p>“Take that girl away, Harvey! For heaven’s sake don’t let her +cross my path again! And if you know what is good for +yourself—for Wayne and his army—you will keep out of her +sight. Is she not goin’?”</p> + +<p>The excited scout stepped forward with quivering nerves as he +uttered the last words.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said the youth quickly, but throwing himself between +the forest beauty and Wolf Cap. “She is going now.”</p> + +<p>“And will you promise never to see her again?”</p> + +<p>“We’ll talk about that at another time. Come.”</p> + +<p>The last word was addressed to Little Moccasin, upon whose face +an expression of wonderment rested, and Harvey Catlett led her +to the canoe.</p> + +<p>For several minutes he held her hand, talking low and earnestly +the while, and then saw her send her light craft into the deep +shadows that hung over the water.</p> + +<p>When the sound of her paddles had died away the young scout +turned to inquire into Wolf Cap’s unaccountable conduct; but to +his surprise the rough borderman was not to be seen.</p> + +<p>But Harvey Catlett was not long in catching the sound of +receding footsteps, and a moment later he was hurrying forward +to overtake his companion.</p> + +<p>He soon came upon Wolf Cap walking deliberately through the +forest, and hastened to address him.</p> + +<p>“Here you are! Wolf Cap, I want to know who Little Moccasin is.”</p> + +<p>The borderman did not stop to reply, but looked over his left +shoulder and said, sullenly:</p> + +<p>“I don’t know! Do you?”</p> + +<p>Harvey Catlett was more than ever astonished; but a moment +later, if it had not been for the dangerous ground which they +were treading, he would have burst into a laugh.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch2">CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>AN ERRAND OF MERCY.</h3> + + +<p>Abner Stark, or Wolf Cap, was a man well known throughout Ohio +and Kentucky in the border days of which we write. Moody and +sullen, but at times possessed with a humor that seemed to +reflect happier days; he was cherished as a friend by the +Wetzels, Boones, and Kentons of the early west.</p> + +<p>He had served as a scout under Harmar, St. Clair and Scott, and +was among the first to offer his valuable services to General +Wayne.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4"></a>4</span>It is needless to say that they were eagerly accepted, and in +the campaign of 1793 that witnessed the erection of forts +Recovery and Defiance, he had proved of great worth to the +invaders.</p> + +<p>Ten years prior to the date of our story the Shawnees, led by +James Girty, crossed the Ohio and fell like a pack of wolves +upon Abner Stark’s Kentucky home.</p> + +<p>The settler, as we have already heard him narrate to young +Catlett, was absent at the time, but returned to find his house +in ashes, and the butchered remains of his family among the +ruins. He believed that all had perished by the tomahawk and +scalping knife.</p> + +<p>By the hatchet buried in the tree which was wont to shade his +home, he recognized the leader of the murderous band. From the +awful sight he stepped upon the path of vengeance, and made his +name a terror to the Indians and their white allies.</p> + +<p>His companion on the occasion described in the foregoing +chapter, was a young borderman who had distinguished himself in +the unfortunate campaign of ’91. Handsome, cunning in woodcraft, +and courageous to no small degree, an expert swimmer and runner, +Harvey Catlett united in himself all the qualities requisite for +the success of his calling. He was trusted by Wayne, from whose +camps he came and went at his pleasure, questioned by no one, +save at times, his friend Wolf Cap.</p> + +<p>We have said that the singular reply given by Wolf Cap to the +young scout shortly after the meeting with Little Moccasin +almost provoked a laugh. The situation smacked of the ridiculous +to the youthful borderer, and the time and place alone prevented +him from indulging his risibles.</p> + +<p>But when he looked into the old scout’s face and saw no humor +there—saw nothing save an unreadable countenance, his mirth +subsided, and he became serious again.</p> + +<p>“We will not follow the subject further now,” he said; “I want +to talk about something else—about something which I heard +to-night.”</p> + +<p>His tone impressed Abner Stark, and he came to a halt.</p> + +<p>“Well, go on, boy,” he said, his hard countenance relaxing. “If +you did get any news out of <i>her</i>, tell it.”</p> + +<p>“The lives of some of our people are in danger,” Catlett +continued. “Several days since a family named Merriweather +embarked upon the Maumee near its mouth. Their destination is +Wayne’s camp; they are flying to it for protection.”</p> + +<p>“Straight into the jaws of death!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Wolf Cap. If they have not already fallen a prey to the +savages, they are struggling through the woods with their boats, +which could not stem the rapids.”</p> + +<p>“How many people are in the company?” Stark asked.</p> + +<p>“Little Moccasin says eight.”</p> + +<p>“Women and children, of course?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And is this known by the Indians?”</p> + +<p>“Unfortunately it is.”</p> + +<p>For a moment the avenger did not reply.</p> + +<p>He appeared to be forming a plan for the safety of the +imperilled family, and the young scout watched him with much +anxiety.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know the Merriweathers; never heard of them,” Wolf Cap +said, looking up at last. “They are in great danger. There are +women and children among them. I had a family once. We must not +desert the little band that is trying to get behind Mad +Anthony’s bayonets. God forbid that Abner Stark should refuse to +protect the helpless from the tomahawk.”</p> + +<p>“And here is one who is with you!” cried Harvey Catlett. “Let us +go now.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. We must not see Wayne before we have offered help to the +Merriweathers. Are we not near the tree?”</p> + +<p>“Nearer than you think. Look yonder.”</p> + +<p>The speaker pointed to a tree whose great trunk was just +discernible, and the twain hastened toward it.</p> + +<p>About six feet from the ground there was a hole large enough to +admit a medium sized hand, and Wolf Cap was not long in plunging +his own into its recesses.</p> + +<p>He withdrew it a moment later with a show of disappointment.</p> + +<p>“Nothin’ from Wells and the same from Hummingbird,” he said, +turning to Catlett.</p> + +<p>“We are too soon, perhaps,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“They will be here, then. We may need their assistance. +Hummingbird or Wells?”</p> + +<p>“The first that comes.”</p> + +<p>“That will do. Write.”</p> + +<p>The young scout drew a small piece of paper from his bullet +pouch, and wrote thereon with a pointed stick of lead the +following message:</p> + +<div class="blockquote"><p>“<i>To the first here</i>:</p> + +<p>“We have gone down the Maumee to protect a white family flying +to Wayne. Follow us. No news.”</p></div> + +<p>The message was dropped in the forest letter box, and the +disguised scouts set out upon their errand of mercy and +protection.</p> + +<p>One behind the other, like the wily Indians whom they +personated, they traversed the forest, now catching a glimpse of +the starlit waters of the Maumee, and now wrapped in the gloom +of impenetrable darkness.</p> + +<p>Not a word was spoken. Now and then an ear was placed upon the +earth to detect the approach of an enemy should any be lurking +near their path. With the woodman’s practiced care they gave +forth no sound for listening savages, and with eager hopes +continued to press on.</p> + +<p>The tree, with its silent call for help, was soon left behind, +and the scouts did not dream that the robber was near.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5"></a>5</span>Not long after their departure from the spot, a figure halted at +the tree, and a dark hand dropped into the letter box. With +almost devilish eagerness the fingers closed upon the paper that +lay at the bottom of the hole, and drew it out.</p> + +<p>“A paper at last,” said the man in triumphant tones. “I knew I +would find it sometime.”</p> + +<p>The next moment the thief hurried towards the river with the +scouts’ message clutched tightly in his hand.</p> + +<p>Wolf Cap and Harvey Catlett would have given much for that +man’s scalp, for at the time of which we write he was the dread +of every woman and child in the Northwestern Territory.</p> + +<p>His name was James Girty, and his deeds excelled in cruelty his +brother Simon’s.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch3">CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>THE TERRIBLE DISCOVERY.</h3> + + +<p>Leaving the characters of our story already mentioned for a +brief time, let us turn our attention to the devoted little band +of fugitives who were flying through the gauntlet of death to +Wayne’s protecting guns.</p> + +<p>While Harvey Catlett was conversing with Little Moccasin, +watched with a jealous eye by the tall scout, a large but light +boat was nearing the foot of the famous Maumee rapids.</p> + +<p>It kept in the center of the stream, as if its occupants +believed that danger lurked along the shadowed banks, and +consultation was carried on in whispers.</p> + +<p>The boat thus slowly ascending the stream contained eight +persons. Four were men, strong, active and with determined +visages; the others consisted of a matron, a girl of eighteen, +and two children whose ages were respectively twelve and +fourteen.</p> + +<p>Abel Merriweather, the matron’s husband and the father of the +interesting ones grouped about her, was the oldest person in the +craft; his male companions were George Darling, his nephew, an +Englishman called John Darknight, and a young American named +Oscar Parton.</p> + +<p>To Darknight the navigation of the Maumee was well known, as he +had spent much time upon its bosom, and he was serving the +Merriweathers in the capacity of guide.</p> + +<p>Abel Merriweather, a little headstrong and fearful, had +overruled the counsel of true friends. He believed that his +family was in danger while the roof of the cabin near the mouth +of the Maumee sheltered it. The muttered growls of war made him +timorous, and he saw no safety anywhere save behind the +bayonets of Wayne. Therefore, in company with his nephew and +Oscar Parton, who was his daughter Kate’s acknowledged suitor, +and with John Darknight for a guide, he had embarked upon the +perilous attempt of reaching Fort Defiance with his loved ones.</p> + +<p>“Of course we cannot stem the rapids,” the guide said in +response to a question from young Darling. “Our portage must now +begin.”</p> + +<p>As he spoke the boat began to approach the left bank of the +stream.</p> + +<p>“We are nearing the wrong bank,” said Parton.</p> + +<p>“Of course we are,” the settler replied, noticing the boat’s +course, and he turned upon the guide:</p> + +<p>“What does this mean?” he demanded, with his usual brusqueness.</p> + +<p>“Nothing dangerous, sir. You see that we can best journey up the +left bank of the river. The Indians are massing in the south.”</p> + +<p>“But I have been advised by the scouts of Mad Anthony to go up +the right bank.”</p> + +<p>“You have?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. If I understand you, you have not been in these parts +for a month, while my informants and advisers were here but a +week since.”</p> + +<p>The guide did not reply for a minute, during which the boat +continued toward the dusky shore, for his hand was upon the +rudder.</p> + +<p>“Pardon me, John,” the settler said; “but I feel constrained to +listen to the scouts, one of whom was William Wells himself.”</p> + +<p>“Wells, eh?” said Darknight, with a sneer. “Between you and I, +Merriweather, I would not trust that Injun-bred fellow farther +than the length of my nose.”</p> + +<p>“I consider him a true man,” said Kate, the daughter, who had +overheard the latter part of the conversation between her father +and the guide.</p> + +<p>“He doesn’t look like a rogue, and I am sure that he would not +advise us wrongly on purpose.”</p> + +<p>John Darknight did not reply to the girl’s remarks; but relapsed +into sullenness, and doggedly turned the prow of the boat to the +other shore.</p> + +<p>“What do you think now?” whispered George Darling in the +settler’s ear.</p> + +<p>“I really do not know, George,” was the reply, as an expression +of fear settled over the father’s face. “I trust in God; but we +are on dangerous water. Do not be so suspicious, boy, for you +make me tremble for the safety of my dear ones.”</p> + +<p>No further words were interchanged by uncle and nephew, and the +boat touched the ghostly shore amid deep stillness of voice and +tongue.</p> + +<p>But the ceaseless song of the wild rapids fell upon the +voyagers’ ears, and the first stars were burnishing the dancing +waves with silver.</p> + +<p>The debarkation took place at once, and the craft was drawn from +the water and prepared for the sleeping place of the settler’s +family. A day of hard pulling against the stream had ended, and +the travelers proposed to enjoy the needed repose. The boat was +large enough to contain couches for Mrs. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6"></a>6</span>Merriweather and the +children, while the men would sleep and watch at intervals on +the ground.</p> + +<p>No fire was kindled on the bank, but a cold supper was eaten in +silence, and not long thereafter the settler’s household lay +almost hidden in the boat. Star after star came out in the +firmament above, and the gentle winds of night sighed among the +leaves; now and then the plash of some amphibious animal +disturbed the stillness, but excited no comment, though the +noise caused an occasional lift of the head and a brief moment +of silent inspection.</p> + +<p>The camp was just over a little rise in the river bank, and the +starlit water was hidden from the eyes of the watch, who, for +the first part of the night, was the settler himself.</p> + +<p>He stood against a tree, wakeful, but full of thought, keeping +guard over the precious lives committed to his charge. The boat +containing his family was quite near, and the forms of his three +male companions looked like logs on the darkened ground.</p> + +<p>He did not watch the latter, for suspicion never entered his +head, and he did not see that one was rolling over and over, +gradually leaving the bivouac, and disappearing. Immersed in +thought, but quick to note a movement on the part of his +sleeping family, Abel Merriweather let the hours pass over his +head.</p> + +<p>At last the plash of the muskrat no longer alarmed him; the +singular cry of the night hawk that came from the woods across +the stream did not cause him to cock his rifle. A bat might have +flapped her wings in his face without disturbing him. Despite +the peril of the moment and the great responsibility resting +upon him, Abel Merriweather was asleep!</p> + +<p>The fatigue of the past two days’ voyage, and the almost +sleepless nights had told upon his constitution. He had +struggled against the somnolent god, but in vain; and at last +passed into slumberland unconsciously and overcome.</p> + +<p>And while he slept there was a noise in the water which was not +made by a night rat. Something dark, like a great ball, was +approaching the camp from the northern bank of the river, and +the strong arms that propelled it gave the waves thousands of +additional gleams.</p> + +<p>It came towards the camp with the rapidity of a good swimmer, +and at length a huge figure emerged like a Newfoundland dog from +the water.</p> + +<p>It was an Indian!</p> + +<p>For a moment he stood on the bank and panted like an animal, +then a low bird-call dropped from his lips, and a second form +came from the shadow of a fallen tree.</p> + +<p>The twain met at the edge of the water, and with signs of +recognition.</p> + +<p>“Oskaloo cross the river,” said the savage, in the Wyandot +tongue. “White guide break him promise, and land on wrong side.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t help it,” was the reply. “The old man is doing just +what Wells has told him was best. I tried to run the boat over, +and bless me if I don’t pay ’im for his stubbornness yet.”</p> + +<p>“How many?” asked the Indian.</p> + +<p>“Seven.”</p> + +<p>“White girl along?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but recollect what I have said about her.”</p> + +<p>“Oskaloo never forget.”</p> + +<p>“Is the White Whirlwind over there?” and the speaker glanced +across the river.</p> + +<p>“No; him with Little Turtle, gettin’ ready to fight the +Blacksnake.”</p> + +<p>“That is good. Now, Oskaloo, go back. To-morrow night at this +time come when you hear the night hawk’s cry.”</p> + +<p>“All come?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, all; but meet me first.”</p> + +<p>The savage nodded and turned towards the water, and the next +moment plunged almost noiselessly beneath the waves.</p> + +<p>As he put off from the shore a hand dropped upon sleeping Abel +Merriweather’s arm, and roused him with a start.</p> + +<p>“Hist!” said a voice in a warning whisper. “Father, you have +been asleep. We are going to be massacred. John Darknight, our +guide, is a traitor.”</p> + +<p>The settler was thoroughly awake before the last terrible +sentence was completed, and he looked into the white face of his +little son Carl, whom he thought was sleeping beside his mother +in the boat.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch4">CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>LITTLE MOCCASIN IN THE CAMP.</h3> + + +<p>The settler was thoroughly aroused by his little son’s startling +communication, which appeared too terrible to be true.</p> + +<p>“A traitor, Carl?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Yes; an Indian who swam the river has been talking to him on +the bank.”</p> + +<p>“It cannot be,” replied the incredulous parent. “He is +sleeping——”</p> + +<p>He paused abruptly, for he made the discovery that but two forms +were lying near the boat. The spot lately occupied by the guide +was vacant.</p> + +<p>Then Abel Merriweather began to believe that Carl had not been +mistaken.</p> + +<p>“Hist!” said the boy, breaking in upon his father’s disturbing +thoughts. “He is coming back.”</p> + +<p>“To your place in the boat—quick! Do not let him see you here.”</p> + +<p>Little Carl left his father and glided unseen to his couch in +the boat, but peeped over the gunwales to watch the traitor’s +movements.</p> + +<p>Slowly and without noise John Darknight came over the hill, and +inaugurated a series of cat crawls toward the spot which he had +lately deserted. Once or twice he glanced at the settler, whose +drooping head appeared to tell him that he still slept, for he +recommenced his crawls, and at last, without disturbing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7"></a>7</span>his +sleeping companions, regained his buffalo skin.</p> + +<p>But his movements had not escaped the sentry’s eyes, and Carl +was regarding him from the boat. The father was a prey to great +perplexity; he believed that the guide’s movements indicated +treason, but he did not know what course to pursue. To discharge +him at once might precipitate the bursting of the plot. To keep +him longer and watch, seemed the better plan, and was the one +which the settler felt inclined to adopt. He did not see how +they could ascend the river above the rapids without Darknight’s +experience, for in the voyage thus far his assistance had proved +invaluable.</p> + +<p>The night was far advanced and day was no longer remote, when +Abel roused Oscar Parton, whose duty it was to stand guard until +daylight. He did not impart his suspicions to the impetuous +young man, but told him not to close his eyes for a moment, but +to watch, for life was at stake. Then, instead of lying by the +boat that contained his family, he dropped upon the ground +beside the suspected guide, and with a hand at the hilt of his +knife, watched the man who was sleeping heavily.</p> + +<p>A bird call from the guide’s lips, or a suspicious movement, and +he might have forfeited his life.</p> + +<p>“Father doesn’t want to suspect anybody,” murmured the boy Carl, +who was surprised to see John Darknight sleeping so soundly in +the camp after his meeting with Oskaloo on the banks of the +river. “I do not know how he came to undertake this trip. We +might have been safe where we lived. I know we are not here. He +didn’t tell Oscar about the treason, for I heard every word that +passed between them. May be he doesn’t think I saw straight. +Well, I know I wasn’t very close; but I would swear that it was +the guide talking to the Indian, and didn’t he come up the bank +after the redskin left? I have a rifle, and I am going to watch +John Darknight myself!”</p> + +<p>Having thus delivered himself of his thoughts, Carl Merriweather +continued to watch in silence, and he saw that the night was +wearing away.</p> + +<p>Oscar Parton was wakeful. No sound escaped his ears, and he saw +the river growing darker with the dense gloom that precedes the +dawn.</p> + +<p>Then he redoubled his vigilance, for the hour was suggestive of +surprise and massacre; but the gloom gradually departed, and the +first streaks of dawn silvered the flowing water.</p> + +<p>It was a welcome sight, for the long night of anxiety had worn +away, and with strength recruited by repose, the journey could +be resumed.</p> + +<p>The young sentry was watching the long arrows of light fall upon +the waves, when an object startled him. It seemed to have risen +from the river’s unseen depths, but a second look told him that +it was an Indian canoe. It skimmed over the water like a thing +endowed with life, and the beholder, eager to inspect its +occupant, stepped to the brow of the bank, but with the +woodman’s usual caution.</p> + +<p>The light growing stronger as the day advanced, revealed the +tenant of the solitary canoe to the young man, and while he +gazed intently, the craft suddenly shot like an arrow to the +shore.</p> + +<p>Instinctively Oscar Parton raised his rifle, but the movement +was detected by the person in the stream, and a hand gave the +peace signal.</p> + +<p>“I cannot shoot a woman!” the guard murmured, lowering the +weapon. “Her coming may be our destruction, but I cannot harm +her. Bless me, I believe she is a white!”</p> + +<p>The work of a few moments sufficed to bring the canoe to the +shore, and when its tenant stepped upon <i>terra firma</i>, she +was confronted by the curious guard, who had come boldly down +the bank.</p> + +<p>“White family up there?” the jauntily clad girl said, pointing +up the slope.</p> + +<p>“What if they are?” said the young borderman, evasively. “Who +are you?”</p> + +<p>“Areotha,” was the reply. “The white people call me Little +Moccasin. See!”</p> + +<p>With her exclamation she put a foot forward, and displayed, with +innocent pride, a tiny moccasin gaily ornamented with beads.</p> + +<p>“It is a pretty name, but what do you want here?” asked Oscar.</p> + +<p>“Want to tell white father that Little Moccasin has seen him.”</p> + +<p>“Seen whom?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know—the young white spy who tracks the red men for +the Blacksnake?” the girl said with surprise.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>Little Moccasin was nonplussed.</p> + +<p>“Me see him,” she said at length, and her deep eyes brightened. +“Him and the tall hunter come by and by, maybe.”</p> + +<p>“Assistance, eh?” said Parton, catching the import of her words. +“Well, we shall not reject it. You don’t hate the whites, then?”</p> + +<p>“Little Moccasin their friend.”</p> + +<p>“But you are not an Indian. Your skin is like mine.”</p> + +<p>“Been Indian long time, though,” the girl said with a smile. +“Have Indian mother—the old Madgitwa—in the big Indian +village.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know where you were born, Areotha?” questioned +Parton.</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Come up to the camp. I believe that you are true to our people. +We have a girl up there who will like you.”</p> + +<p>“Little Moccasin like her already,” was the artless answer.</p> + +<p>Having made her canoe fast to the bank by a rope of twisted +sinews, the mysterious girl <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8"></a>8</span>followed Oscar Parton up the slope. +He led her straight to the encampment, where her unexpected +appearance created much excitement, and she was immediately +surrounded.</p> + +<p>Abel Merriweather was the first to question her, and Areotha was +about to reply when she caught sight of John Darknight, the +guide.</p> + +<p>The next moment every vestige of color fled from her face, and, +staring at the guide, she started back.</p> + +<p>She looked like a person who had suddenly been confronted by a +spectre.</p> + +<p>At that moment John Darknight’s face assumed a bold, defiant and +threatening aspect; but it was as white as Areotha’s.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch5">CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>A BRACE OF DESERTIONS.</h3> + + +<p>With one accord the fugitives glanced from Little Moccasin to +the guide. They felt that the twain had met before, and that the +present encounter was unexpected and startling to each.</p> + +<p>“What do you know about this girl?” said the settler to +Darknight. “It seems to me that this is not your first encounter +with her.”</p> + +<p>“I should say that it wasn’t,” was the reply. “I had hoped that +we would reach our destination without meeting her, for her +presence among white emigrants or fugitives betokens danger. She +is the witch of the northwest territory, and many is the boat +that she has decoyed ashore to the rifle and the tomahawk. She +doubtless recognized me, for I once pitched her into the rapids +of yon river, and if she had her deserts now our rifles would +rid the territory of its witch, though I know it is hard to kill +a woman.”</p> + +<p>“Abel, she must not stay here if she is to betray us to death,” +said the settler’s wife, fast upon the guide’s last words.</p> + +<p>“Not so fast, mother,” interrupted Kate Merriweather, with +sympathy in her dark eyes for the lone girl. “Remember that we +have listened to but one side of the story—Mr. Darknight’s; now +let us hear what she has to say in her defense.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, she’s a cute one, and you’ll hear the sleekest story ever +told in these parts,” the guide said.</p> + +<p>But Kate Merriweather did not appear to have heard him.</p> + +<p>“You have listened to the white man,” she said to Areotha. “He +has not given you an enviable reputation. Now we want to hear +what you have to say for yourself.”</p> + +<p>Reassured by the white girl’s kindly voice and looks, the +accused maiden stepped boldly forward, and said in a tone +trembling but sweet:</p> + +<p>“The pale guide does not like to see Areotha here, for she knows +him. He is more Wyandot than white man, and where is the boat he +ever guided that has not bloody planks? Areotha does not know. +Did he not tell the white man in his cabin that the red men +would surround it and scalp his family, and then right away +offer to guide him to the Blacksnake?”</p> + +<p>Abel Merriweather started violently. How did the forest girl +know that John Darknight had done this?</p> + +<p>“This is insulting, and from a characterless girl at that!” the +guide exclaimed, advancing a step.</p> + +<p>“Hear her through,” said Kate firmly. “You have had your say; +she shall have hers. Now,” to Areotha, “tell us if you are the +witch he calls you—tell us if you have ever decoyed the boats +of our people to an ambush.”</p> + +<p>“Areotha will speak boldly, though that man may repeat her words +among the Wyandot lodges, and the warriors on the trail. She is +the pale faces’ friend. If the bee does not love to gather honey +from the flower: if the Manitou does not love his white and red +children, then Areotha has decoyed the boats ashore! She has +spoken, and since she built the first fire for old Madgitewa, +her Indian mother, her tongue has not told a lie.”</p> + +<p>Kate Merriweather looked up triumphant. She believed that Little +Moccasin had told the truth, for candor was in her voice, and +innocence in her soft eyes.</p> + +<p>“There is an antagonism between your statements,” Oscar Parton +said, addressing John Darknight. “They do not harmonize as I +would like to see them do.”</p> + +<p>“Just as if you expected to hear that cunning forest +trollop——”</p> + +<p>“Please be sparing with your epithets, Mr. Darknight. Do not +forget that you are in the presence of ladies,” said the young +man, interrupting.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” was the tart rejoinder, accompanied with a quick, +angry glance at Kate. “Yes, sir! I will, for I am a gentleman; +but I was saying that you seem to have expected a confirmation +of my truthful charges from the accused herself. I know her but +too well, and many a poor white man and his little family have +tasted death in the Maumee through her treachery. But if you +wish to test it, I shall not stand between. When John +Darknight’s words of warning can be brushed aside by the lies of +a girl like that one, it is high time for him to betake himself +away. You will repent soon enough. Trust the witch and get to +Wayne, <i>if you can</i>!”</p> + +<p>With the last word still quivering his lips, the guide +shouldered his heavy rifle and tightened his belt, as if bent on +departure.</p> + +<p>“How do you know that we believe the girl?” asked the settler, +who had not spoken for several minutes.</p> + +<p>“How do I know anything?” was the snappish answer. “Do you +suppose that I am blind, and a dunce in the bargain? Warm the +viper in your bosoms, and, as you deserve perhaps, let it sting +you to death.”</p> + +<p>Then the guide strode madly away, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9"></a>9</span>reached the edge of the +river bank before another word was uttered.</p> + +<p>The events of the last moment had thrown consternation into the +little camp, and the guide’s hot words, mien, and his desertion, +seemed to paralyze the tongues of the fugitives.</p> + +<p>But Abel Merriweather, white as a sheet and with flashing eyes, +called out in a tone that halted the guide on the top of the +bank:</p> + +<p>“One more word, sir!” he said. “John Darknight, I ought to shoot +you. Last night an Indian swam the Maumee and you met him at the +water’s edge. There you proved yourself a low-bred renegade, a +traitor to your own people—the plotter of the destruction of my +family. I ought to kill you where you stand!”</p> + +<p>The guide did not reply. For a moment he gazed at the speaker +and heard the clicking of four rifle locks. Then he burst into a +coarse, defiant laugh and sprang down the bank like a startled +deer.</p> + +<p>A few bounds brought him to the river, into which he plunged +without a second’s hesitation, and dived beneath the surface.</p> + +<p>Abel Merriweather and his friends, with ready rifles, waited +vengefully for his reappearance; but he came up far below and +dived again before a single weapon could cover him.</p> + +<p>The whites looked disappointedly at each other.</p> + +<p>“I ought to have dealt with him last night,” the settler said, +self-upbraidingly. “He will join the Indians, and deal +murderously with us. God help my family.”</p> + +<p>The party, smarting with chagrin over the traitor’s escape, +returned slowly to the camp, to meet a group of the whitest +faces ever seen in the forest.</p> + +<p>Helpless in the shadow of an impending evil, Abel Merriweather’s +family gathered around him, and for the first time since the +flight from home the strong man’s heart sank within him.</p> + +<p>The other members of the party looked about for Little Moccasin, +but Kate said that during the pursuit of John Darknight she had +fled from the camp without an explanation of her departure.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch6">CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE EXCITING COUNSEL.</h3> + + +<p>James Girty, the white renegade, was known to the various tribes +as the White Whirlwind. His brother Simon was the possessor of a +few attributes of kindness, but <i>he</i> was destitute of every +redeeming trait. A repulsive face surmounted an ungainly body, +but the fiend was possessed of almost supernatural strength.</p> + +<p>He was a power in the council, and the British agents stirred +the Indians to resist Wayne through him.</p> + +<p>We have witnessed his theft of the message which Wolf Cap and +young Catlett left in the hollow tree prior to their departure +for the assistance of the Merriweathers and their friends. It is +now our purpose to follow him and witness his dealings with the +warriors of the then wild northwest.</p> + +<p>He crossed the river in a canoe which he drew from a place of +concealment on the bank, and, having hid it on the opposite +shore, plunged into the forest. He seemed impatient to read the +contents of the paper which he had stolen, and as he reached the +summit of a wooded knoll a cry of joy burst from his throat.</p> + +<p>For some minutes prior to his arrival on the top of the +declivity, certain sounds had been wafted to his ears by the +night winds. They prepared him for the sight that had burst upon +his vision, but still he could not repress the exclamation.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if they are all there?” he murmured as he sprang +forward and heard the forest resound with his Indian name.</p> + +<p>Girty had come suddenly, but not unexpectedly upon an Indian +council. A fire that blazed in the ring formed by five hundred +painted savages, furnished the light for the forest tableau, and +revealed the renegade to the gaze of all.</p> + +<p>His quick eye swept the circle of faces as he passed through. He +saw representatives of every tribe which confronted Wayne; he +noticed a fair sprinkling of his own ilk, and a group of whites +handsomely attired in British uniforms.</p> + +<p>The shouts that greeted his appearance ceased when he sprang +through the cordon and halted in the fire-lit arena.</p> + +<p>The British officers exchanged significant looks, and Simon +Girty moved uneasily in his position. It was evident that the +arrival of James at the council was distasteful to him.</p> + +<p>The White Whirlwind did not speak until he had mastered the +contents of the stolen message in the light of the fire.</p> + +<p>“Warriors!” he said, in the tone which had been heard above the +roar of more than one forest battle, “I see that your council +has been opened. I have been on the trail, and though I sought +you when the sun went down, I could not get here sooner. Boldly, +like a famished wolf, the Blacksnake marches through the forest; +he comes to deprive the red man of his cabin, or his lodge, and +to drive his children to lands where a deer track has never been +seen. My brethren, to-morrow we march forth to meet this scourge +of the northwestern territory. Let us be strong, and punish the +venomous Blacksnake, as we punished the big soldier long ago. Be +strong and fear not, for the soldiers of the king will fight +among us in the common cause of all the Indians east of the +Great River.”<a name="FNanchor_B" id="FNanchor_B" href="#Footnote_B" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> +</p> + +<p>Murmurs of approbation followed the renegade’s harangue.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10"></a>10</span>A chief responded in a like strain, then another and another, +until twelve had spoken for war to the knife. All this time the +White Whirlwind stood near the council fire, with his massive +arms folded upon his giant chest, and a look of triumph in his +eye. He was in his element.</p> + +<p>The absence of such chiefs as Little Turtle, Buckhongahelas, and +Blue Jacket, was noticeable; but their places were supplied with +savages of lesser note, but equally belligerent.</p> + +<p>All at once there arose to address the council an Indian who +created a sensation.</p> + +<p>He came from the portion of the living ring occupied by Simon +Girty, and James gave his brother a quick glance, when he +recognized the chief. But Simon appeared to be composed.</p> + +<p>“War?” cried the new speaker, who could not have passed his +twenty-sixth year, “War means death to the Indian and the rule +of the American throughout our hunting grounds. Parquatin is not +afraid to lead his braves to battle; but where is the use? Who +comes here to-night and tells us to bear our bosoms to the +rifles of the Blacksnake? Does the White Whirlwind lead his +braves in open fight? No! he will tell us to rush upon the +Americans, while he trails some white girl through the woods; +and make her build the fires in his hut. Parquatin hates the +Blacksnake; but he despises the Indian who will listen to the +forked words of such a pale fox as the Whirlwind. Parquatin has +spoken.”</p> + +<p>The young chief glanced defiantly around the circle of scarlet +faces.</p> + +<p>With a face blanched to ghastliness by the first sentence, James +Girty heard the speaker through—heard and stood dumfounded for +a moment.</p> + +<p>The English, who had come from Fort Miami to attend the +conclave, gazed with consternation into each others’ faces, and +the members of the council looked startled.</p> + +<p>In Simon Girty’s eye there was a look of triumph, for Parquatin +seemed his spokesman.</p> + +<p>“I defend myself!” the accused renegade suddenly cried. “I lead +the red men when I tell them to meet the American soldiers. +Parquatin, the Wyandot, is jealous; he dares to lie about me in +the great council because I lead more and braver warriors than +he. But the Indians know me; they spurn the lie as they hate the +good-for-nothing lying dog!”</p> + +<p>A short cry of rage followed the cutting epithet, and with +flashing tomahawk Parquatin sprang forward.</p> + +<p>“Here I am,” said Girty, drawing his own hatchet and planting +himself firmly. “I am willing to kill my enemies wherever I meet +’em!”</p> + +<p>The seated warriors—for the participants of Indian councils are +usually seated—watched the scene with interest. Parquatin, +young and not strong of limb, was no match for the renegade; but +he possessed the spirit of the maddened tiger, and never thought +of the strength against him.</p> + +<p>For a moment he glared at his calm antagonist, and then bounded +forward. Girty received the shock with his hatchet’s iron-like +handle, and by a dexterous blow in return sent Parquatin’s +weapon spinning to the edge of the fire.</p> + +<p>The young chief was now completely at his mercy, and, as James +Girty seldom spared a helpless foe, his doom was as swift as +terrible.</p> + +<p>Parquatin met his fate with the red man’s famous stoicism.</p> + +<p>With his arms folded upon his breast, he received the renegade’s +blow, and without a death cry fell backward—his skull cleft by +the keen-edged tomahawk.</p> + +<p>“Now!” cried the heartless victor, swinging aloft the gory +weapon, and sweeping the circle with his flashing glance, “now +let the man who persuaded Parquatin to insult me in the council +step forth and meet me face to face. He is here and I know him! +His victim lies before me. Let him stand up and say that I lie, +if he dare!”</p> + +<p>But no voice replied, and no man rose to confront the White +Whirlwind.</p> + +<p>“Well, never mind,” he said. “I would not strike him if he did +rise against me. Gentlemen,” to the English officers, “this is +the bitterest moment of my life. Jim Girty is not callous to +every affection. I bid you good night. Warriors, I will meet you +before the big battle. Again I say, be strong!”</p> + +<p>As the renegade turned and strode across the ground, the circle +was respectfully broken, and he passed into the dark forest +beyond.</p> + +<p>It was a strange event for an Indian council, and was destined +to decide the fate of many helpless families; but few knew it, +then.</p> + +<p>There was but one man in the council who knew why James Girty +spoke as he did to the British soldiers.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch7">CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>A MIRACULOUS ESCAPE.</h3> + + +<p>The discovery of John Darknight’s treachery and his escape +filled the hearts of the fugitives with terror. The little band +found themselves in the forest at the foot of the Maumee rapids, +and with many miles stretching their perilous length between +them and Wayne’s camp.</p> + +<p>Little Moccasin, too, had deserted without a word of +explanation, and several members of the party were inclined to +believe her as treacherous as the English guide.</p> + +<p>George Darling, the nephew, was especially bitter in his +denunciation of the girl, and in this he was seconded by young +Carl Merriweather. The two resolved to keep on the lookout for +her reappearance, and to shoot her on sight. They firmly +believed that her coming to the camp had been prearranged by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11"></a>11</span>John Darknight himself, and saw in the desertion of both the +successful working of the plot.</p> + +<p>In the brief and deeply interesting council that followed the +double abandonment, the fugitives resolved to prosecute their +journey without delay. Of course the boat could not stem the +strong rapids, therefore it would have to be transported to a +point above them, and that upon the shoulders of the men.</p> + +<p>The craft, while it was strong and capable of carrying eight or +ten people, was unusually light, and when Merriweather and Oscar +Parton raised it to their shoulders, they declared with joy that +they could carry it all day without a rest.</p> + +<p>The fugitives did not resume their journey until a frugal +breakfast had been discussed on the scene of the night’s +encampment. At that meal no one seemed to be communicative; the +thought of the present peril or the shadow of the impending +danger appeared to seal their lips.</p> + +<p>Abel Merriweather doubtless regretted leaving the cabin home at +the mouth of the Maumee, and upbraided himself for having +listened to the representations of the false guide.</p> + +<p>In Oscar Parton’s mind one particular thought was uppermost—the +safety of Kate Merriweather. Now and then he coupled with it a +strong desire to deal with the man who had led them into the +trap.</p> + +<p>The sun was silvering the waves of the river when the boat was +lifted from the ground, and the journey resumed.</p> + +<p>The little party kept from the stream for fear of being seen by +any foes, but near enough to hear any voice which might arise +from its banks.</p> + +<p>They indulged in the fond hope of encountering some of Wayne’s +scouts who were known to be scouting in the vicinity, and the +settler trusted that he would fall in with Wells, with whom he +was intimately acquainted. But the sun approached his meridian +without bringing incident or misfortune to the little band who +pushed resolutely through the forest toward the distant goal.</p> + +<p>“Are you ready to fulfill your part of the promise, George?” +said Carl Merriweather to his cousin at the noonday rest held +beneath the shade of a great tree.</p> + +<p>George Darling looked up and saw the youth’s face glowing with +excitement. His eyes seemed to emit sparks of fire.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Carl?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Why, what we promised one another this morning—that we would +kill the first redskin we laid our eyes on.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Where is one?”</p> + +<p>“Come with me.”</p> + +<p>George Darling rose, and the two left the camp together.</p> + +<p>“There be two of them,” the settler’s son said, “and they are at +the river; I saw them not five minutes since. A good shot, +George. I’ll take one, you the other.”</p> + +<p>The eager couple glided toward the river, and the youth all at +once pulled his cousin’s sleeve and told him to halt.</p> + +<p>“There they are!” he cried excitedly, pointing towards the +stream. “Look! do you not see them in the tree top? Real +Indians, George, and no mistake. What on earth can they be +doing? They are up to their knees in water.”</p> + +<p>George Darling did not reply, but continued to gaze at the two +persons in the tree top which lay in the water. Their skin +proclaimed them savages; but they seemed to be washing—a thing +which no Indian warrior ever does. Hence the spectators’ +perplexity.</p> + +<p>“Come, George, we can’t wait on them,” said the impatient Carl. +“Beside, they will miss us at the camp. Now, let us give the +rascals a little lead. Remember our promise to let no Indian +escape our rifles.”</p> + +<p>The young man heard his cousin, and, a partaker of his +excitement, grasped his rifle.</p> + +<p>“The little fellow on the right,” Carl said without taking his +eyes from the couple in the tree top. “Leave the other one for +me. He is as tall as a Virginia bean-pole.”</p> + +<p>The victims of the pair were not fifty yards away. Unconscious +of the presence of their enemies.</p> + +<p>They kept on performing motions with their arms and hands, which +had led Darling to believe that they were patronizing the homely +art of washing.</p> + +<p>“Ready?” whispered the boy.</p> + +<p>“Ready!” I’ve covered my man was the low but distinct response.</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s silence. The word “fire” was struggling for +utterance on Carl Merriweather’s lips when his cousin’s hand +leaped from the trigger and covered the flint of his weapon.</p> + +<p>“Look at the tall fellow,” cried the young backwoodsman. “By the +snows of Iceland! he’s a white man.”</p> + +<p>Sure enough, one of the occupants of the tree had suddenly risen +to his feet and turned his face towards the depths of the +forest. The skin which had been red was white now. Water had +metamorphosed him into his true character.</p> + +<p>Carl Merriweather grew pale when he saw the transformation, and +gave his companion a look which made him smile.</p> + +<p>“Both are white!” Darling said. “The short one has washed his +face. See!”</p> + +<p>“That is true,” said Carl. “A moment more, and we would have +sent bullets into their brains. Who can they be? Rascally +renegades, no doubt, and as such deserve our balls.”</p> + +<p>“More likely Wayne’s scouts,” replied the settler’s nephew. +“They often disguise themselves as Indians, and reassume their +true character when it suits them. They are leaving the tree +now.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12"></a>12</span>As the young man spoke the twain emerged from the tree top, and +approached the brow of the hill.</p> + +<p>One was much taller than his companion, and his face looked sad +and careworn. Both carried rifles, and tomahawks peeped above +their deerskin belts.</p> + +<p>They cut a strange figure with white hands and faces, but with +shoulders copper-colored, like the Indians’. Their scanty +garments were of genuine Indian manufacture, and tufts of +feathers, daubed with ochre and sienna, crowned their heads.</p> + +<p>“They mean mischief,” Carl Merriweather suddenly exclaimed. +“Don’t let them get to camp if they are really enemies; don’t +let them see how weak we are.”</p> + +<p>A moment later George Darling rose and spoke to the advancing +couple:</p> + +<p>“Friends or enemies?” he cried.</p> + +<p>The strangers executed a sudden halt, and hastily cocking their +rifles, looked about for the speaker. But the young man was not +easily seen, for his body was screened by a tree.</p> + +<p>“Friends or enemies?” he repeated. “You can’t advance until you +have told us.”</p> + +<p>“Friends, of course,” was the response by the youngest of the +twain. “You belong to Abel Merriweather’s family, and we are +attached to Wayne’s command.”</p> + +<p>“Thank God!” cried Carl Merriweather, springing from his place +of concealment and hastening toward the new comers.</p> + +<p>“You saved your lives by washing the paint from your faces. What +are your names?”</p> + +<p>“Mine is Harvey Catlett and my friend’s is Abner Stark; but +every where they call him Wolf Cap,” was the reply.</p> + +<p>“And you are Mad Anthony’s scouts? Glory!” the overjoyed youth +shouted, and then George Darling managed to get a word in.</p> + +<p>“You are very welcome,” he said. “Heaven knows that we need your +assistance. Did you know we were here?”</p> + +<p>“We did,” said young Catlett, “and as we feared that you might +send a bullet into the first red face that greeted you, we +thought best to make ours white before making your +acquaintance.”</p> + +<p>“Thank God for that,” responded Darling fervently, and he +shuddered when he thought how nearly he had taken the life of a +succoring friend.</p> + +<p>It was with joy that the youths led the scouts into the forest.</p> + +<p>They felt that great assistance had been sent them from on high.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch8">CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>A SECOND CATASTROPHE.</h3> + + +<p>Harvey Catlett and his companion were received with great joy at +the camp near the river bank.</p> + +<p>The fugitives took new hope with their appearance, and seemed to +think that the remainder of the journey to Wayne would be +accomplished without further trouble.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Merriweather so expressed herself, when the young woodsman +shook his head and replied:</p> + +<p>“We cannot save you in and of ourselves,” he said; “but we will +do all we can. The trails to Wayne’s army are dark and perilous. +I do not seek to keep anything back.”</p> + +<p>“That is right, sir,” said the father quickly. “My wife is prone +to exaggerate good fortune. I do not want her to remain +deceived. I comprehend the situation, and am prepared for it.”</p> + +<p>“That is right,” said Wolf Cap. “In these times one must know +something about Indian affairs.”</p> + +<p>“Now that we have exchanged our guide for you gentlemen, I am +sure that our fortunes will mend.”</p> + +<p>“Where is the guide of whom you have spoken?” asked Catlett, +addressing the head of the family.</p> + +<p>“Across the river, I suppose,” Abel Merriweather answered with a +smile.</p> + +<p>“Deserted?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Just like the worthless guides of these days. It is a wonder +that he did not get you into the Indian’s power.”</p> + +<p>“He attempted to, but failed.”</p> + +<p>“Just so.”</p> + +<p>At Wolf Cap’s request Merriweather related the attempt made to +get the boat ashore, and the two scouts listened attentively to +the recital.</p> + +<p>“Now, how come he to leave you this morning? Let us know all, +Mr. Merriweather.”</p> + +<p>The story of Little Moccasin’s appearance in the camp, and John +Darknight’s hasty desertion was then told.</p> + +<p>“Now what do you think of the girl?” the young scout said in a +low tone to Wolf Cap.</p> + +<p>There was a tinge of triumph in the youth’s voice.</p> + +<p>“What have I already told you about her?” was the reply. “I +allow that her action is strange, but those Indian witches can +outdo anything in the woods. I have my opinion, and shall stick +to it. Of course you will let me do this, boy.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, Abner. I shall do nothing to embarrass you in it; +but it puzzles me because you can see no good in the girl.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry, boy—indeed I am. I wish I could tell you what I +really think about some things; but not now, if you please. I’m +going down to the river. Talk to the folks here; you know what +to say. We are here to take them to Mad Anthony or die in the +attempt.”</p> + +<p>Having finished, the tall scout withdrew from the little group +and betook himself to the water’s edge, shaded by the leafy +boughs of a giant tree.</p> + +<p>Harvey Catlett glanced over his shoulder at <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13"></a>13</span>the retreating +figure and then addressed the fugitives with a smile.</p> + +<p>“He is a mystery; one of the many that inhabit the backwoods. +Why, he does not place any confidence in Little Moccasin; he +seems to hate her, and yet I believe she has never lifted a +finger of harm against him. But we have unaccountable +antagonisms, and here in the woods one finds them plentiful.”</p> + +<p>“But who can hate that dear girl?” said Kate Merriweather’s +musical voice. “I could easily call her sister, and live forever +at her side. She is not an Indian, though she calls her mother +Madgitwa. She cannot be treacherous to our people.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks,” said Harvey Catlett, bowing to the fair young speaker. +“I rejoice to hear you speak thus of the girl.”</p> + +<p>“I fear that Kate is thus partial because of her pretty eyes. I +must confess that I do not like her. Her desertion means no good +to us.”</p> + +<p>The last speaker was Carl Merriweather, ever ready to join in a +conversation where any one crossed swords with his opinions.</p> + +<p>“We will not argue the matter now,” Harvey said, seeing the +youth’s flushed cheeks, and not liking to incur the displeasure +of any of the fugitives.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps we had best not,” responded Carl with a slight sneer +and a meaning glance at his friend Darling. “Let us drop the +subject, nor call it up again. I have my opinion, you yours, Mr +Catlett.”</p> + +<p>The young scout turned from the boy and began to talk in a +confidential tone to the settler, which seemed to be a signal +for a general disbanding of the group, and the two were left +alone.</p> + +<p>“It is deuced queer,” Carl Merriweather hastened to say to +George Darling. “He is taking her part, and I am satisfied that +she is full of treachery.”</p> + +<p>“I am of the same opinion, and that he, one of Wayne’s scouts, +should defend her, is beyond my comprehension. She is drawing +him on, and it may be that she really loves him. But it looks to +me as if she were using him for a purpose. That scene between +her and our guide was too theatrical to be genuine. They overdid +it. It was a preconcerted affair, for it gave Darknight a chance +to show his hand and get away. They are together now, my word +for it.”</p> + +<p>The boy shared his companion’s opinion concerning the witch of +the woods, and they formed a cabal against her beneath the tree +whose shadows fell upon the murmuring Maumee.</p> + +<p>By and by Wolf Cap came up from the river and rejoined the +occupants of the camp.</p> + +<p>“He has seen something; look at his white face,” whispered Abel +Merriweather to his nephew.</p> + +<p>“No ghosts, at any rate, for one does not see them at this +hour,” was the reply. “He will probably enlighten us.”</p> + +<p>But the scout did not do so, but talked about the journey and +Wayne’s army, and the pallor gradually left his face.</p> + +<p>The noonday meal was discussed, after which the journey was +resumed.</p> + +<p>As the woods were not very clear of underbrush, the progress was +of necessity quite slow, and at nightfall the party halted in a +picturesque ravine through which in years gone by some woodland +stream had poured its waters into the Maumee.</p> + +<p>Wild, luxuriant grass covered the bed of the place, and the bank +on either side was clothed in that verdure which so beautifies +the woods in summer. It was a fit camping place for the night, +for the mouth of the ravine was hidden by a fallen tree, and a +fire could not have been noticed from the river.</p> + +<p>Darkness settled rapidly down upon the camp, and Harvey Catlett +tore himself from talkative Kate Merriweather, and prepared to +guard her while she slept in the boat.</p> + +<p>He took up a position at the mouth of the ravine and near the +river. Not far away Wolf Cap kept his vigils, and little Carl +Merriweather, determined to be of some service, kept sentry at +the old hunter’s side.</p> + +<p>Brighter and brighter grew the stars in the heavens that bent +lovingly above the river, and the night winds stirred the leaves +with a sweet melody.</p> + +<p>Now and then the cry of some night bird or animal would startle +the sentries, but they would soon turn therefrom and listen for +more important sounds.</p> + +<p>Harvey Catlett was on the alert, and his ears at length caught a +sound that roused him. It seemed the peculiar tread of the +panther, dying away like the step of the beast, and recurring no +more. It was in vain that he listened for a repetition of the +sound. The very silence told him that he had permitted something +important to escape investigation.</p> + +<p>“It may not be too late to follow yet,” he said to himself. “I +am a fool that I permitted——”</p> + +<p>The strange cry that the night hawk sends forth when frightened +from its perch, fell startlingly upon his ears, and he severed +his sentence.</p> + +<p>“That is my panther!” he said. “There is mischief afoot.”</p> + +<p>We have said that he was near the river.</p> + +<p>The cry, or signal, as the young scout hastened to interpret the +sound, seemed to emanate from a spot not forty feet away, and +with the skill of the experienced trailer, he glided toward it.</p> + +<p>The cry was repeated, then there was a response which seemed to +have crossed the river, and that in turn was answered from the +very shore which the daring scout was noiselessly approaching.</p> + +<p>All at once he halted and hugged the dark ground, for the night +caller was before him.</p> + +<p>It was not a hawk, nor was it the stealthy <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14"></a>14</span>panther that greeted +young Catlett’s gaze; but the figure of an Indian!</p> + +<p>Ready to spring upon the redskin, the scout resolved to witness +the result of the bird calls.</p> + +<p>He expected to see several boats cross the river for an attack +upon the camp; but was doomed to disappointment.</p> + +<p>A sound to his left drew his attention in that direction.</p> + +<p>The Indian heard it, rose and started toward the river. At the +edge of the water he was joined by a figure that carried a +burthen. The scout could not distinguish it in the uncertain +light.</p> + +<p>A few whispered words passed between the twain who had stepped +into a boat, and Catlett was about to try the effect of a shot, +when a startling shriek rose from the ravine.</p> + +<p>It was a woman’s voice!</p> + +<p>The occupants of the boat heard it, and shoved the craft from +shore. Out into the stream it shot like an arrow from a bow.</p> + +<p>Harvey Catlett sprang to his feet and fired at the disappearing +boat.</p> + +<p>A wild cry followed the shot, and the sound was still echoing in +the wood when Abel Merriweather reached his side.</p> + +<p>It did not need the settler’s white face to tell the scout what +had happened. Mrs. Merriweather’s shriek had already told him.</p> + +<p><i>Kate was gone!</i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch9">CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>THE ARMS OF THE DEAD.</h3> + + +<p>There was no disguising the fact that Kate Merriweather was +missing.</p> + +<p>Harvey Catlett felt that the stealthy tread which had fallen +upon his ears was that of her abductor, and he upbraided himself +for what he self-accusingly termed his inactivity.</p> + +<p>It is true that the hawk cry which he construed into a +preconcerted signal had roused him to action; but the boat and +its occupants, one of whom was doubtless the settler’s daughter, +had left the shore. And he had fired into the craft without +thinking that his ball might find the heart of the fair girl, +and imperil his own life.</p> + +<p>It was a startled group that surrounded the young scout, and +almost uncontrollable anger flashed in Oscar Parton’s eyes. Kate +had been abducted during Catlett’s hour on guard!</p> + +<p>The fact was sufficient to give birth to a new and bitter forest +feud. But the young borderer avoided the lover’s gaze, as he did +not desire to enter into a controversy which calmer moments +would make appear ridiculous.</p> + +<p>With remarkable tact and secrecy the girl had been stolen from +the couch in the boat. Even Carl’s wakefulness had failed to +baffle the thief.</p> + +<p>Since the scout’s arrival a feeling of security had settled over +the camp, and the sleep of its inmates was deeper than it had +been for many nights.</p> + +<p>The abductor probably knew this; but at any rate he had carried +out his scheme at a propitious moment.</p> + +<p>In the exciting council that followed the abduction an hundred +suggestions were offered, to be rejected. Wolf Cap and his +friend hardly unsealed their lips, but listened attentively to +all that was said.</p> + +<p>“Now what say you, Wolf Cap?” said Abel Merriweather, appealing +to the tall man. “You have not said ten words about my dear +child’s peril, and we know that you are a king in these forests; +and you have said that you would get us to Wayne or die in the +attempt. For God’s sake suggest some plan of swift rescue, for +we are tortured almost beyond endurance.”</p> + +<p>Slowly Wolf Cap turned upon the settler, who held his +white-faced, anguish-stricken wife to his bosom, waiting for a +reply which he felt would be freighted with salvation or doom.</p> + +<p>“Talk to the boy, there!” he said, pointing to Harvey Catlett. +“He was on guard when <i>it</i> happened. What he says will be +done.”</p> + +<p>All eyes fell upon the youthful scout.</p> + +<p>“I will save her if I can,” he said quickly, and with +determination. “Wolf Cap must remain. You may need him. Pursue +the journey; it may be death to tarry here.”</p> + +<p>“And worse than that to proceed;” Mrs. Merriweather said.</p> + +<p>“I think not, madam. Keep stout hearts in your bosoms. Mr. +Parton, will you follow me?”</p> + +<p>“On the trail?” inquired the young man, to whom the question was +unexpected.</p> + +<p>“Certainly, sir. I see that you have been thinking pretty hard +of me to-night.”</p> + +<p>Oscar Parton blushed.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” he said, putting out his hand. “We are apt to +think unadvisedly on the spur of the moment. I trust we shall be +friends, and work together in all things.”</p> + +<p>Catlett took the extended hand in a pledge of friendship, and +pressed it heartily.</p> + +<p>“Come!” he said; “we must cross the river.”</p> + +<p>Parton turned to press the hands of his friends.</p> + +<p>“No time for that,” said Wayne’s scout. “In these times we must +say farewell with our lips. We have lost time already.”</p> + +<p>He turned to the water’s edge, and Kate’s lover dropped Carl’s +hand to follow.</p> + +<p>“Can you swim?” asked Catlett.</p> + +<p>“Certainly.”</p> + +<p>“Then here we go. Keep alongside of me and swim noiselessly.”</p> + +<p>A moment later the twain glided into the water, leaving an +anxious group on the shadowy shore.</p> + +<p>Silently, so far as the form of swimming was concerned, the +friends kept together and approached the northern bank of the +Maumee.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15"></a>15</span>“Do you know who took the girl?” Catlett asked his companion.</p> + +<p>“How should I?” was the question that met his.</p> + +<p>Wayne’s scout smiled.</p> + +<p>“I thought that you might have formed an opinion,” he said.</p> + +<p>“No;” and then came the question, “what do you know about it?”</p> + +<p>“Not much; but if she escapes us, the terror of these woods will +see her.”</p> + +<p>Oscar Parton’s face became pale.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean——”</p> + +<p>He paused, as if afraid to utter the name.</p> + +<p>“I mean that man!” said Catlett, as if his companion had +finished his sentence. “Jim Girty has caused more anguish in +this part of the world than the tomahawks and fire brands of a +whole red nation. I believe that John Darknight was here +to-night, and he and the White Whirlwind have been friends.”</p> + +<p>The whispered conversation grew still, for the gloomy shore was +discernible, and the thought of Kate Merriweather in the hands +of the greatest renegade in the northwest, was enough of itself +to seal Oscar Parton’s lips.</p> + +<p>A long fringe of woodland welcomed the swimmers, and they drew +themselves from the water. No noise save the plash of the +ripples at their feet broke the stillness, and the sound was so +musical that they could scarcely believe that the woods and the +waves beautified a land of death.</p> + +<p>Wringing the water from their garments, the scouts inaugurated a +search for the trail, or, in other words, for the spot where the +boat had been drawn from the water.</p> + +<p>A line of moonshine lay along the edge of the stream, and this +underwent a close examination, Harvey Catlett hunting down and +his companion up the river.</p> + +<p>While Oscar Parton was not an experienced woodman, like his +friend, the mysteries of the trail were not great ones to him. +He had been reared in the forests, and from the very tribes that +now sought his heart’s blood he had learned much of the science +of tracking man and beast. He felt proud of the notice which +Catlett had taken of his woodcraft in permitting him to search +alone for Kate’s trail, and he inwardly hoped that he would have +the good fortune to find it. The circumstance would elevate him +in the eyes of the young scout.</p> + +<p>Now through the forest, and now back to the river, with its +edging of moonlight, the two men crept like ghosts, letting +nothing escape them.</p> + +<p>One could not distinguish the other for the dimly lighted +distance that lay between them, but preconcerted calls told from +time to time that the search had not been abandoned.</p> + +<p>Oscar Parton began to despair. He had passed beyond the line of +search marked out by his companion and was on the eve of +returning when he came suddenly upon a canoe with its keel just +beyond the reach of the tide.</p> + +<p>The sudden discovery startled the trail hunter, and he was about +to advance upon and examine the craft, when a night owl flew by +and swept its cold wings across his face, as if to keep him +back. But the youth did not heed the omen of portending evil.</p> + +<p>He crept to the seemingly stranded and abandoned craft, and +peered over its side.</p> + +<p>What did he see? A dark object lying on the bottom, a tuft of +feathers, a face, deathly and covered here and there with +clotted blood. He turned away, and looked again before he saw +that an Indian lay beneath his gaze, rigid, as he believed, in +death!</p> + +<p>“This is the result of Catlett’s shot,” he said. “I thank God +that his bullet did not reach Kate’s heart. The other abandoned +the canoe here, and Kate is with him somewhere in the forest.”</p> + +<p>As he uttered the last word he touched the Indian, and what was +his surprise to see the limbs move and a flash light up the +deathly eyes. Oscar Parton saw the terrible embrace that was +preparing for him, and tried to avoid it; but the red arms flew +up as if impelled by electric mechanism, and closed around his +body.</p> + +<p>He struggled and tried to signal his companion, but in vain; his +face was pressed to his foe’s, and he felt the death grip of the +Wyandot crushing out his very life.</p> + +<p>But for all that, he tried the harder to free himself from the +loathsome grip. Was his young life to be given up so +ignominiously? And that, too, with Kate Merriweather’s fate +veiled by obscurity? The thought was awful, horrid.</p> + +<p>Not a word fell from the Indian’s lips; the young hunter did not +know that the scout’s ball had passed through the cheek, +mangling the tongue whose words had been heard in the council +and on the trail.</p> + +<p>The struggle with the dying went on, and, as was natural, the +canoe was pushed nearer the river, until the tide caught it and +it was afloat! Out into the starlight went the craft with the +combatants on board; down the stream toward the rapids, and each +succeeding moment farther from assistance by the white scout.</p> + +<p>All things must end, and life, like the rest, reaches the shadow +of death. A sudden gurgling in the throat, a quivering of the +limbs, announced to Oscar Parton that his enemy was dead. Then +again he tried to escape; but the limbs did not relax; they +seemed destined to hold him there forever.</p> + +<p>“God help me!” he groaned. “Must I die now, and in the arms of a +dead Indian?”</p> + +<p>The situation was so tainted with the horrible that the youth +almost gave up in despair, and the boat swept down the river.</p> + +<p>But help reached him at the eleventh hour. The boat was checked +in its course, and he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16"></a>16</span>heard voices above the dead arms that, +like great cords of steel, held him down. He groaned to tell +some one, he knew not who, that he still lived, and then he felt +the Indian’s arms torn apart. He was saved.</p> + +<p>With an ejaculation of joy at his deliverance the young settler +looked up, to start with a cry of amazement. For the canoe that +lay against his own contained a brace of Indians, plumed and +painted for the warpath!</p> + +<p>From the clutches of the dead into those of the living did not +seem to Oscar Parton, at that hour, a change for the better.</p> + +<p>He could not resist, for his rifle lay on the river bank, and +before he could collect his ideas he was lifted from his boat +into that of his captors’.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch10">CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>LITTLE MOCCASIN’S “FATHER."</h3> + + +<p>Leaving Kate Merriweather in the hands of her as yet, to the +reader, unknown abductor, and Oscar Parton a captive in the +warriors’ canoe, let us return to two characters of whom, for a +while, we have lost sight.</p> + +<p>Deep in the forest that extended to the northern bank of the +Maumee, and with but few trees felled about it, stood in the +year ’94 and for several years afterwards, a small cabin erected +after the manner of western buildings, with logs dovetailed, +strong oaken doors and heavy clapboard roof.</p> + +<p>So thickly stood the trees around it, that the keen-eyed hunter +could not have perceived it at any noticeable distance.</p> + +<p>No little patch of Indian corn grew near to indicate the home of +a settler, and no honeysuckles shaded the low-browed door to +tell that a woman’s gentle hand and loving taste had guided them +heavenward.</p> + +<p>It really looked like the lair of a beast, for there were +cleanly-picked bones before the door, beside which a fresh wolf +skin had been nailed.</p> + +<p>It was not the home of refinement; but he who often slept +beneath its roof and called it his, could sway hearts and drench +the land in blood.</p> + +<p>It stood scarce ten miles from the scene of Kate Merriweather’s +abduction, a cabin memorable in the annals of the Northwestern +Territory, for beyond its threshold the darkest treacheries of +the times had been plotted.</p> + +<p>About the hour when the fugitives beside the river discovered +that one of their number had been taken from their midst, a man +emerged from the forest, and stepping quickly across the space +from door to tree, entered the cabin.</p> + +<p>He did not have to stoop, as a tall person would have been +compelled to do upon entering, for he was short in stature, but +with a physique that denoted great strength</p> + +<p>He was clad in the garb of a backwoodsman, and carried all the +weapons borne by such a character. His face, almost brutish in +anatomy, denoted the glutton, and his first step was to the +larder, from which he drew an enormous chunk of meat upon which +he fell with great voracity.</p> + +<p>“It must be eleven o’clock,” he said, as he thrust the pewter +plate empty into the cupboard, and went to the door as if to +take observations. “He cannot be later than one, and, saying +that it is eleven now, I have but two hours to wait. Can I trust +the man? Haven’t I trusted him for six years, and where is the +time that he has played me false? I have put money into his +buckskin purse, and he knows that at a sign of betrayal I would +kill him as heartlessly as I slew Parquatin at the council in +the hollow. That council!” and the speaker clenched his lips, +and his dark eyes shot flashes of fire from their lash-fringed +caves of revenge.</p> + +<p>“They made me kill the young chief,” he went on, as if speaking +before a stern court in his own defense. “Or I should say that +<i>he</i> made me do it. They say that I haven’t got a spark of +manhood left—that I am the only devil in the Northwest +Territory, and hunt and dog me on every side. I <i>am</i> a bad +man, the worst perhaps in these parts. The Indian is my +companion, and when he can’t invent new deviltry, he comes to +me. But I have some good traits left. The dog that steals sheep +and bites children is capable of loving his master. I have a +brother, and though we have together trod the paths of iniquity +from the trough cradle—though he has sought to lower me in the +eyes of the tribes, I would not lift a hand against him. No, +Simon Girty, your brother loves you because your mother was his; +but,” and the renegade paused a moment, “but even a brother may +wrong too deeply. Keep from me, Simon. Devil that I am, and +fiend incarnate and powerful in these woods, I am capable of +loving even <i>you</i>!”</p> + +<p>These words, though spoken in a low tone, fell upon other ears +than the White Whirlwind’s. Not far from his cabin door stood a +great tree, gnarled and lightning-rent, and behind it, in its +grotesque shadow, stood a lithe figure, girlish and graceful, +and two brilliant eyes were fastened on the outlaw. The little +hand that hung at the side and touched the beaded fringe of a +trim frock, clutched a rifle which was cocked ready for instant +use.</p> + +<p>“He would never tell me; he may tell me now!” fell from the lips +behind the tree. “He has been talking about his bad life, and +may be the Manitou is smiling in his heart.”</p> + +<p>With the last word on her lips, for the voice and figure denoted +that the speaker was a girl, a figure stepped from the shadows +and pronounced the renegade’s forest name.</p> + +<p>Jim Girty started and retreated quickly, as if to secure a +weapon, but his eye caught sight of the advancing person, and he +recognized her with a strange mixture of affection and hatred in +his eyes.</p> + +<p>Areotha, or Little Moccasin, soon stood before <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17"></a>17</span>the outlaw, +looking into his repulsive face as if seeking a gleam of hope.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is you?” he said. “Well, well, I haven’t seen you for a +mighty long time, but I have heard of you,” and his brow +darkened.</p> + +<p>“What has the White Whirlwind heard of Areotha?” the girl asked +with childish artlessness, and she came very close to the man +from whom many of her sex would turn with loathing.</p> + +<p>“Why, they say that you have been spying for Mad Anthony Wayne,” +he said, trying to catch the change of color on her face; but he +failed, for none came. “If this is true, a bullet will find your +heart some of these days, for I am an Indian as much as I am a +white, and you must not spy against us. I am your father, but I +cannot see how you came to love the accursed people who hunt me +like wolves.”</p> + +<p>He was speaking with much bitterness, and for a moment it seemed +that Little Moccasin would forswear the Americans, and cleave to +him. But that were impossible; the lamb cannot espouse the +wolf’s cause.</p> + +<p>“My father, why do you fight the people whose skin is white?” +she said, after a minute’s silence. “You must have had a bad +heart a long time, for when we lived in the land of the Miami’s, +you scalped and burned as you do now. Little Moccasin loves you, +but she loves all her white skinned people—but some better than +others.”</p> + +<p>The flush that came to the girl’s cheeks as she finished the +last sentence did not escape Girty’s lightning glance.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you have tumbled into love with some graceless +fellow—some one who would shoot me just to marry an orphan. I +know that you don’t go to the fort enough to fall in love with +the British officers, and I’ll be hanged if you shall tie +yourself to an American. This will never do, girl.”</p> + +<p>Her eyes fell guiltily before his flashing look, and when she +looked up again it was with an altered mien.</p> + +<p>“Areotha will hear her father if he will tell her one thing,” +she said.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you a dozen if I can,” he replied. “Bless me, girl, +if Jim Girty, bad as he is, doesn’t think a mighty sight of +you.”</p> + +<p>He stooped, and his brawny arm swung around her waist. She did +not struggle, and he looked into her eyes. The lion seemed to be +making love to the gazelle.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18"></a>18</span>“My father, long ago the bullet of the white man struck you +down,” she said. “But you ran here and fell as the wild deer +falls, in the brake beyond the hunter’s pursuit. Long you lay +here; your head was wild and you said many things when the fever +of the evil spirit was upon you. Areotha never left you, my +father. She watched, lest the palefaces should come; she shot +the deer and gave you food——”</p> + +<p>“And saved the worst life in God’s world, didn’t you, girl?” +interrupted the renegade, displaying more feeling as he drew the +speaker to him than he had ever been credited with.</p> + +<p>“Areotha did what she could,” was the reply. “One night, when +the wolves went howling down the forest after the fawn which +Areotha’s rifle had failed to kill, the White Whirlwind said +something that made his child wonder. He made her know that he +took her one night when she was a little girl; took her from a +burning wigwam beyond the big river. She asked him then to tell +her all, but he said: ’Wait till the sickness leaves me,’ and +she waited. Now she is here; now she says, ’my father, tell me +all, for in this war the bullet may find your heart, and Areotha +will never know. Old Madgitwa did not bring me into the world; +no, my father!”</p> + +<p>The face and voice were so full of pleading that none but a +Girty could resist.</p> + +<p>His arm left the pliant waist, and his eyes resumed their old +look.</p> + +<p>“You are too inquisitive!” he said. “It doesn’t matter where I +got you. You are mine, and the man—”</p> + +<p>He paused as if he was about to reveal something, which he would +rather keep back.</p> + +<p>“My father, the Manitou, may send for Areotha, and the leaves +will fall upon her before she can know who her real father is. +Tell her. This may be the last time that she——”</p> + +<p>“Tell you? No!” was the harsh interruption, and all the revenge +in Girty’s nature seemed in his voice. “There are secrets which +the stake could not force from me; this is one of them. There +lives one man whom I wouldn’t make happy to save my own life, +and sooner than see you in his arms, I would drive this knife to +your heart.”</p> + +<p>With a cry Little Moccasin started from the blade that flashed +in the starlight, and threw herself on the defensive, with rifle +half raised and eyes flashing angrily.</p> + +<p>“You will not tell?” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Never!”</p> + +<p>The next instant she stepped toward the gnarled tree, and her +rifle covered the renegade of the Maumee.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got me!” he said, looking into Areotha’s face without a +tremor of fear; “but I did not think that you would ever lift a +rifle against the man who has been so kind to you. Kill me here, +now, and the secret will be kept from you forever!”</p> + +<p>There was a spark of hope in his voice, and all at once the girl +lowered the weapon. The outlaw was spared to scourge the region +of the Maumee a while longer.</p> + +<p>Areotha put herself into his power when she lowered the rifle. +With one of those panther-like bounds for which he was famous, +Girty could have sprung upon her and removed her forever from +his path. But he restrained himself; he even put up the knife, +and did not seek to detain her when he heard her say:</p> + +<p>“My father, I am going!”</p> + +<p>With a look that spoke volumes, Little Moccasin turned on her +heel, and plunged into the forest, leaving the renegade to his +own reflections.</p> + +<p>“I think a mighty sight of her!” was all he said.</p> + +<p>He might have killed her, but he would not.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch11">CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>KATE MERRIWEATHER’S PROGRESS.</h3> + + +<p>Girty, the renegade, remained in his cabin door until the +footsteps of Little Moccasin died away in the forest, and +silence again pervaded the spot.</p> + +<p>There was a cloud on the outlaw’s brow, and the longer he +listened the more impatient and perplexed he became.</p> + +<p>The minutes resolved themselves into hours, and when he believed +that the ghostly hour of one had arrived, an oath fell from his +lips, and he turned into the cabin. But he soon reappeared with +a short-barreled rifle, and left the hut as if bent upon hunting +for some one whom he had been expecting.</p> + +<p>“Something unlooked for may have transpired,” he murmured. “Wolf +Cap and that young fellow may have disarranged my plans by +appearing suddenly at the camp; but I am sure that Wells will +never get the message which they left in the tree.”</p> + +<p>Girty smiled as he recalled the theft of Harvey Catlett’s +message from the forest letter box, and congratulated himself +that Wells and Hummingbird (a famous chief and spy in Wayne’s +employ) would find the tree empty when they should reach it. The +self-congratulations still lingered in his heart when the report +of a distant rifle, faint, but clear enough, nevertheless, +struck his practiced ear.</p> + +<p>He stopped suddenly and listened.</p> + +<p>“A rifle, but no death cry,” he said, addressing himself. “But +too far off for that, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>Then he stooped and put his ear to the ground, in which attitude +he remained for several moments. But the stillness of death +brooded over the vicinity. When Girty rose it was with a +perplexed look; the shot seemed to revolve itself into a +mystery, to which he attached the utmost importance.</p> + +<p>“There is one person in these parts whose bullets never make a +death cry,” he said; “but if she shot <i>him</i>, I don’t see +why, for she knows that we are friends. However, I’m going down +to see what the matter is.”</p> + +<p>He started toward the river at a brisk walk. It was ten miles +distant, but he knew that the mysterious shot had been fired not +far away.</p> + +<p>By and by his walk resolved itself into the dog-trot of the +Indian, and he hastened through the woods as if a regular path +stretched before him.</p> + +<p>The dew lay on the grass pressed by his dingy moccasin, and, +save now and then the snapping of a twig, his progress sent +forth no noise.</p> + +<p>All at once, as he reached the summit of a wooded knoll, he was +brought to a stand.</p> + +<p>At his feet, as it were, was a space of ground over which a +hurricane had at some time swept with relentless fury. The +results of its work, broken trees and fallen ones, were apparent +to the eye. Into this place the starlight fell, and the rays of +the moon, soon to bathe herself in the waters of the Maumee, +penetrated like shafts of silver.</p> + +<p>The scene that presented itself to the outlaw was enough to +startle him.</p> + +<p>He saw two figures in the light—two living ones, we mean—but +not far remote, with face upturned to the stars, lay a giant +form, motionless as the earth itself.</p> + +<p>A second look told the renegade the author of the midnight shot. +She stood beside a young girl, and these words in a well known +voice greeted his ears:</p> + +<p>“White girl tired, but Areotha will save her if she will go.”</p> + +<p>“Go?” cried the one addressed, and her voice sent a thrill of +pleasure to the heart beating wildly on the top of the knoll. +“Go, Areotha? You cannot name a place whither I will not fly +with you at this hour. I wonder if they do not believe me dead +already. My God! I see through the treachery of that man,” and +she glanced at the body on the ground. “Girl, is every one in +these parts like him? He came to our home and persuaded father +to fly to Wayne, offering to guide us; but he meditated +treachery all the time. I see it now.”</p> + +<p>“He makes no more bloody boats on the big river,” Little +Moccasin said with triumph. “He was bold to steal white girl +alone.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, girl. An Indian called Oskaloo assisted, but he was +killed in the boat by some one on the shore—Mr. Catlett, +perhaps. He was on guard.”</p> + +<p>Little Moccasin’s eyes gleamed with pride at the mention of the +young scout’s name.</p> + +<p>“He good hunter,” she said with growing enthusiasm. “Areotha +will take the white girl back to him.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, and then I will find all of them. Let us go now. Some +person may find us here if we tarry.”</p> + +<p>Some person? Yes; that “person” was already near, and as Kate +Merriweather and her protector started to fly, Jim Girty, with a +single bound, reached the foot of the hillock, and stood before +them.</p> + +<p>The twain started back with a cry of terror; but Kate’s retreat +was quickly checked by the renegade’s hand.</p> + +<p>“Not so fast, my beauty!” he cried with a hideous smile, a +mixture of sensuality and triumph. “I am convinced that I did +not arrive a moment too late. That man was playing me false!” +and he nodded at the dead. “He wasn’t on the trail that leads to +my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19"></a>19</span>cabin. I suspect, miss, that he got struck with your beauty, +and thought that he would outwit his employer and make you his +own wife.”</p> + +<p>Kate Merriweather did not reply. White faced and trembling, she +stood before the outlaw, whose eyes devoured her peerless +beauty, and from whose clutches she longed to escape.</p> + +<p>“John Darknight proved to be a traitor, and your companion paid +him for his treachery, though I guess that she did not suspect +that she was serving me when she pulled the trigger. Perhaps you +do not know me,” and there was a grim smile on Girty’s face.</p> + +<p>“I do not, though——”</p> + +<p>“Though you may have heard of me, you were going to say. I fancy +that my name has reached your ears. There isn’t a woman in the +Northwest Territory who has not heard of me. My name is Girty!”</p> + +<p>The settler’s daughter uttered a cry of mingled terror and +disgust.</p> + +<p>“Simon Girty, the renegade?”</p> + +<p>“No! his brother James—the worse devil of the two!” said the +outlaw with a sardonic grin and a glance at the bewildered +Little Moccasin.</p> + +<p>“But you are not lost to every attribute of manhood, James +Girty,” said the captive in a pleading tone that might have +softened a heart of flint. “There are hearts that bleed for me +to-night. Do not deal with me as they say you have dealt with +others; but restore me to my dear ones, and win the lasting +gratitude of all who love me.”</p> + +<p>Following hard upon Kate Merriweather’s last word came a laugh +which seemed the incarnation of fiendishness. The renegade’s +eyes seemed filled with the heartless merriment.</p> + +<p>“Restore you to the boat? Let you go, after I have gone to the +pains of getting John Darknight to guide you into my hands? Why, +girl, you have not studied the character of Jim Girty.”</p> + +<p>Kate’s hope fled away, and she looked without a word upon the +forest beauty at her side.</p> + +<p>“My father, let the white girl go,” Little Moccasin said, +venturing to meet the outlaw’s flashing eyes. “See! I have +killed the traitor. He will never betray my father again.”</p> + +<p>“You served him right; but you were going to take this girl back +to the river when I came up,” was the reply. “She is mine, and +the hand that is raised to tear her from me will fall in death. +Come, my bird.”</p> + +<p>He drew the settler’s daughter toward him, and as his eyes +flashed their fire upon her cheek, Kate uttered a shriek and +hung senseless in his grasp.</p> + +<p>“Now go!” he cried to the mystery, as he pointed over her +shoulder into the gloom of the forest. “Do not lift your rifle +against me, for then you would never know who you are. Go! and +follow me not. Don’t cross my path too often!”</p> + +<p>She saw the outstretched hand that pointed her into forced +exile; she noted the murderous eyes that darted from her into +the depths of the tarn, and with a final pitying glance upon the +unconscious girl, hanging over Girty’s strong arm, she obeyed. +For the second time that night he had sent her from his +presence.</p> + +<p>“No man ever baffled Jim Girty!” he said, looking down into the +white face which looked like death’s own in the starlight. “For +this moment I have plotted. Now I can desert the tribes to their +own war, for she takes away all my warlike ambition. They may +not see me in the next great battle. The hand of man shall not +take her from me.”</p> + +<p>Then for a moment he studied his captive’s face in silence, +admiring its contour and matchless loveliness.</p> + +<p>At length he started forward and stood over John Darknight.</p> + +<p>“Quite dead!” he said with evident satisfaction. “That young +girl saved me a bit of lead and powder.”</p> + +<p>Yes, the treacherous guide was dead. From that night there would +be fewer bloody boats on the Maumee, and not a soul in the +Northwest Territory was to regret Little Moccasin’s aim.</p> + +<p>Leaving John Darknight where he had fallen, a prey to the +vultures and the wolf, Girty turned away, and, with his still +unconscious captive, hastened toward his cabin.</p> + +<p>The outlaw had achieved another triumph; but the avenger of +blood was on his trail, and on a day memorable in the history of +Ohio he was to expiate the crime which we have already +witnessed.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch12">CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>A THRILLING INITIATION.</h3> + + +<p>Oscar Parton did not resist when his captors drew him into their +boat, which was paddled into the middle of the stream.</p> + +<p>He saw that resistance would prove futile, for his struggle with +the dead warrior had wearied him.</p> + +<p>His captors were real red athletes, with great breadth of chest, +and strong arms. They regarded him with much curiosity, and did +not speak until the boat began to ascend the stream.</p> + +<p>“The Blacksnake’s spy!” said one, half interrogatively, as he +peered into the young man’s face.</p> + +<p>His accent told Parton that he was a Shawnee.</p> + +<p>“I am not a spy,” was the reply, “I have never trailed the +Indian, with a rifle ready to take his life.”</p> + +<p>The red men exchanged significant glances, and the youngest, a +youth of eighteen, spoke:</p> + +<p>“Pale face is a Yengee.”<a name="FNanchor_C" id="FNanchor_C" href="#Footnote_C" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20"></a>20</span>“I am an American,” Oscar said, knowing that an attempt to +conceal his national identity would result in no good to him. “I +have lived at the mouth of the Swift River,<a name="FNanchor_D" id="FNanchor_D" href="#Footnote_D" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> +lifting no arm against the Indian.”</p> + +<p>“But why is white man here?” asked the Shawnee.</p> + +<p>Then followed the narrative of the flight of the Merriweather +family, and the story of Kate’s abduction. The two Indians +listened without interruption; but at certain stages of the +narration they exchanged meaning looks.</p> + +<p>It was evident that they credited the story, for the young man +told it in a plain, straightforward manner, embellishing it with +no rhetoric.</p> + +<p>“White guide steal girl?” the young Indian—a Seneca—said, and +the elder nodded his head in confirmation. “Him bad man. Decoys +boats to the wrong side of river for the red man. Parquatoc no +like him, for he makes war on women and children.”</p> + +<p>For several moments the savages conversed together in whispers, +and in the Indian tongue, of which the captive caught but few +words which he understood. His fate appeared to be the subject +of conversation, and he waited with much anxiety and impatience +for the end of the council.</p> + +<p>Escape was not to be thought of, for his limbs were bound, and +he would have sank beneath the waves like a stone if he had +thrown himself from the boat.</p> + +<p>At last the dark heads separated, and the young settler looked +into the Indian’s eyes as if seeking the decision there before +he should hear it from their tongues.</p> + +<p>But he was doomed to disappointment, for the red Arabs did not +speak, though the one who had called himself Parquatoc guided +the boat toward the shore.</p> + +<p>Oscar thought that the youth’s eye had a kindly gleam, and tried +to make himself believe that no murderous light was in the orbs +of his companion.</p> + +<p>Parquatoc sent the boat to the bank with strong, rapid strokes, +and it finally struck with a dull thud that made the light craft +quiver. Then he severed Oscar’s leg bonds, and the settler stood +erect on the shore, ten miles below the scene of his capture.</p> + +<p>His thoughts were of Harvey Catlett, whom he had left so +unceremoniously, and who might think that he had deserted him to +hunt alone for the stolen girl.</p> + +<p>He did not quail before the uncertain fate that stared him in +the face; but resolved to meet it, dread as it might be, like a +man.</p> + +<p>The boat was drawn upon the bank, and lifted into the boughs of +a huge tree, which told that it was not to kiss the waves again +that night.</p> + +<p>The Shawnee deposited it there while the young Seneca guarded +the settler. But such vigilance was useless, for Oscar had +resolved to attempt no escape that did not offer the best signs +of success.</p> + +<p>Having deposited the boat in the tree so well that none but the +keenest of eyes could have found it, the eldest savage gave his +companion a look, and the next moment a knife flashed in his +hand.</p> + +<p>Oscar thought that his doom was near at hand, for Parquatoc +stepped forward, his scarlet fingers encircling the buckhorn +handle of the keen blade. But though the youth’s eyes flashed +and his well-knit figure quivered, there was no gleam of murder +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>The Shawnee looked on without a sign of interference.</p> + +<p>“The pale face has said that he does not hate the Indian!” the +youth said.</p> + +<p>“Why should I? He has never done me harm.”</p> + +<p>“But he kills the whites, and now the Blacksnakes come among his +wigwams with rifle and torch.”</p> + +<p>“True; but the Blacksnake, as you call our great soldier, would +not be marching into this country if the bad whites had not +stirred up the tribes by lies and rum.”</p> + +<p>The young settler spoke with great boldness, looking straight +into the eyes of the pair.</p> + +<p>“The pale face hates the king’s men and the renegades?”</p> + +<p>“He does.”</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s silence.</p> + +<p>“Does he hate the White Whirlwind?”</p> + +<p>“He hates Jim Girty with all his heart!”</p> + +<p>The Shawnee nodded to Parquatoc with manifest satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“Then let the pale man bare his breast.”</p> + +<p>For the first time since the landing, a pallor swept over Oscar +Parton’s face.</p> + +<p>If the savages were friends to the Girtys, and there were few +Indians who would not have followed them to death, his replies +had fated him to die, and the command to bare his breast seemed +to settle the question of his life.</p> + +<p>He hesitated, but not through fear.</p> + +<p>“Is the white man afraid?” asked the boy-warrior with a sneer.</p> + +<p>“No!” was the quick reply, and the next instant the settler’s +hands were lifted to obey the command; but the deer thongs that +bound them prevented him.</p> + +<p>Parquatoc smiled, and cut the bonds.</p> + +<p>Then Oscar tore his jacket open, and exposed his flesh to the +Indian’s gaze.</p> + +<p>“The white man hates the British and the white renegades. He +must join our band.”</p> + +<p>Then while the last word still quivered the speaker’s lips, the +knife flashed across his breast and a spurt of blood told that +it had left a horrid trail behind. The youth did not fall, but +remained erect, while the Indians regarded the work of the blade +with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“Listen,” said Parquatoc, laying his hand on Oscar’s shoulder +and looking straight into <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21"></a>21</span>his eyes. “You are one of us now and +forever. There was a council the other dark (night) in the long +hollow. The White Whirlwind came and raised his voice for war. +Many chiefs followed him; but there were many more who were +afraid to lift their voices for peace. The Indian can’t fight +the Blacksnake. He will sweep them from his path as the +hurricane sweeps the leaves from the trees. Parquatin, our +brother, rose and spoke for peace. He told the council that war +meant starving squaws, desolated maize fields, and gameless +hunting grounds to the Indian. He called White Whirlwind a bad +man, who would desert the red man to trail a white girl through +the forest. It was a talk that made the Whirlwind mad; and there +in the council before the assembled braves of seven nations, he +drove his tomahawk into our brother’s brain. We have raised our +hands to the Manitou like the white men do when they want to +make their words strong, and said that we hate the palefaces who +have lied the Indian into the fight. We strike at the renegade; +we trail the White Whirlwind; and he shall die for the blow +which he struck at the council in the long hollow. White man, +you are one of us now. You carry the sign of the brotherhood. +Wherever you go you will find red brethren. No other paleface +belongs to us. In danger, show the mark; our people are many, +and after the next great battle, the cold white faces among the +tribes will not be few. You are free; but if you go with us we +will step upon the trail of the white rose stolen from you.”</p> + +<p>To the young warrior’s speech, uttered in that eloquence which +now and then adorns the pages of savage history, Oscar Parton +listened with wonderment and strange emotions. It is true that +Parquatoc’s words, as he advanced, prepared him for the finale, +but his transition from thoughts of doom to freedom was yet +swift and startling. He found himself initiated into a cabal of +Indians who had sworn to make war against certain white +people—himself the sole white member of the organization.</p> + +<p>There was a something about the young Parquatoc that made the +settler admire him; and now that he knew that Jim Girty had +basely slain his brother, he saw a motive for the boy-warrior’s +intense hatred.</p> + +<p>He resolved to cultivate his friendship; but he did not know how +soon the bonds sealed that night were to be broken.</p> + +<p>“Come!” said Parquatoc, breaking in upon his thoughts. “The +light is not very far away, and we must not be here when the +white arrows fall upon the river.”</p> + +<p>“But white man no gun,” said the Shawnee, speaking for the first +time since the landing.</p> + +<p>“Never mind; gun come soon enough,” was the Seneca’s reply.</p> + +<p>A moment later the tree and concealed boat were left behind, and +the trio hurried from the river.</p> + +<p>Oscar Parton walked beside the boy, never dreaming of escape, +though his freedom had been restored, for his new brethren had +promised to aid him in his search for Kate.</p> + +<p>He was thinking about his thrilling initiation, and wondering +what would come of it.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch13">CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>A LOVERS’ MEETING.</h3> + + +<p>The reader will recollect that we left Harvey Catlett, the young +scout, searching for John Darknight’s trail on the banks of the +Maumee. We will now return to him.</p> + +<p>For a long time the youth prosecuted his search with vigor, +confident that he would soon be enabled to strike the trail and +start in pursuit of the treacherous guide, whose hands had, he +doubted not, taken Kate Merriweather from the camp. But the +minutes passed without bringing him success, and he at last +began to fear that the abductor had not landed at any point +opposite the bivouac.</p> + +<p>With this idea gaining strength in his mind, he resolved to +rejoin his companion and suggest new operations. But Oscar +Parton did not respond to his oft-repeated signals, and the +young scout sought him in turn until the gray streaks of light +announced the dawn of another day. He did not hear the boat that +drifted past him in the night, nor catch a sound of the struggle +between the living and the dead which was taking place on board.</p> + +<p>He was inclined to charge Oscar Parton with desertion, +attributing it to the young man’s zeal for Kate’s welfare, for +whom he—Oscar—preferred perhaps to hunt alone.</p> + +<p>“Well, let him go!” Catlett said at last, standing on the shore +with the daylight in his face. “If he does not like to trail +with me, I am sure that I will not lift a hand against him. He +might have been a stumbling block, any way, and on the whole I +am not sorry that he has rid me of himself.”</p> + +<p>Speaking thus—as the reader knows, unjustly—of Oscar Parton, +the young scout started up the river. A few steps brought him to +a rifle which lay on the ground. A glance told him that it +belonged to the man whom he had just charged with desertion; but +now he regretted his words. The discovery of the weapon told him +that Parton was in trouble.</p> + +<p>His keen eyes, used to the woods and their trails, could not +show him any signs of a struggle, for the tide had removed the +stranding place of the canoe, and after a long and unsuccessful +search, Catlett looked mystified. He looked at the rifle, but it +told no story of its owner’s mishaps; it lay in his hands +dumb—provokingly so.</p> + +<p>“It beats me!” were the only audible words that escaped him, +after a long silence of study and conjecture.</p> + +<p>Then he thrust the weapon into the hollow of a tree near by, and +started into the forest.</p> + +<p>He had another mystery to solve besides Kate Merriweather’s +abduction—Oscar Parton’s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22"></a>22</span>whereabouts. He felt assured, however, +that the settler’s daughter had fallen into Darknight’s hands, +and it was known to him that the guide and James Girty were +staunch friends.</p> + +<p>It was toward the renegade’s cabin, ten miles distant, that the +scout hastened. He examined the ground over which he walked, and +the light growing stronger, at last penetrated the forest.</p> + +<p>The morning was not far advanced when a young man paused +suddenly in a glen where the trees had felt the fury of a +hurricane, and looked into the face of a person whose clothes +were damp with still glistening dew.</p> + +<p>The cold white face was upturned to the blue sky, and in the +eyes was the ghastly stare of the dead. Beside the body lay a +dark-stocked rifle clutched tightly by a rigid right hand. Under +the left ear was a mass of clotted blood, which proclaimed the +gateway of the bullet of death.</p> + +<p>“John Darknight!” exclaimed Harvey Catlett, stooping down to +examine the dead. “Little did I think that your trail would end +so suddenly, and so fatally to you. Now a new mystery begins. +Where is the girl?”</p> + +<p>An examination of the glen told the trailer that several persons +besides the unfortunate guide had been there, and he was +examining a track so peculiar as to attract attention, when a +noise greeted his ears.</p> + +<p>Raising his head and looking over his shoulder, he saw standing +not far away the person of all others whom he would meet at that +hour—Little Moccasin.</p> + +<p>There was a smile on her face as she came forward and submitted +to the kiss which he imprinted on her cheek.</p> + +<p>“They have been talking hard of you, girl, in the camp over the +river,” Harvey said. “They accuse you of deserting them.”</p> + +<p>“Areotha go to follow him!” she said, and her glance wandered to +the dead man in the dewy grass. “But he eluded her, and for a +long time she saw him not.”</p> + +<p>“And too late you have found him. He is there.”</p> + +<p>“Areotha saw him fall with his face to the stars. He lay so +still, and never groaned in his throat.”</p> + +<p>The young scout looked into the fair face, flushed with triumph.</p> + +<p>“Did you do it, girl?”</p> + +<p>“Areotha shot him when he was taking the white girl through the +forest.”</p> + +<p>Harvey Catlett started.</p> + +<p>“Then you rescued Kate!” he cried.</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>“White girl taken from Areotha,” was her answer. “Will Fair Face +listen?”</p> + +<p>“I will.”</p> + +<p>In simple language Little Moccasin detailed her trailing of John +Darknight and his captive through the forest, and how in the +hurricane-swept glen she had put an end to his crimes with a +bullet. Then, of course, followed the account of James Girty’s +interference, and his subsequent flight with the settler’s +daughter.</p> + +<p>The scout listened without interrupting her.</p> + +<p>“The new trail begins here,” he said, addressing the beautiful +creature. “There is a ball in my rifle that may rid the +Northwest Territory of its incarnate curse.”</p> + +<p>“No, no!” cried Little Moccasin, and her hand fell on his arm. +“If Fair Face kills the Whirlwind, he will never tell.”</p> + +<p>Catlett looked into the forest beauty’s eyes as a puzzled +expression settled upon his face.</p> + +<p>“Never—never tell!” repeated the girl, mystifying him the more.</p> + +<p>“Never tell what, Moccasin?” exclaimed the scout, as he put his +arm about her and drew her near him.</p> + +<p>“He knows Areotha’s true father.”</p> + +<p>“No!”</p> + +<p>“He said so last night in his own cabin door, and when he said +he would not tell, Areotha raised her rifle; but he told her to +shoot, and never, never know, and—she let the rifle fall. My +father knows, for when the wound-fever was upon him he said +strange things, and made me go away when I came near.”</p> + +<p>Catlett was silent, busy with his thoughts, and when he started +he saw Areotha’s eyes fixed upon him.</p> + +<p>“The brute may know,” he said. “I wish I could wrest the secret +from him.”</p> + +<p>“Fair Face will not kill him, then?” said the girl, pleading for +the life of the scourge of the settlements. “When the right time +comes he will tell.”</p> + +<p>“That time, in his opinion, will never come. When Jim Girty +hates, he hates forever.”</p> + +<p>“But will Fair Face spare him?”</p> + +<p>“I would not spare the wolf that has trailed me for years, nor +would I be lenient with the hound that has spilled the blood of +women and their little ones. Wolf and hound is this very man +whom you have called father these many years.”</p> + +<p>“He is very bad!” the girl said, dropping her eyes. “<i>But he +knows!</i>”</p> + +<p>“Then for your sake I will not slay him, save in self defense. +Otherwise on sight would I shoot the human blood-hound.”</p> + +<p>Before Harvey Catlett had ceased to speak a pair of arms +encircled his neck, and he felt hot kisses on his face.</p> + +<p>Areotha had conquered him.</p> + +<p>“We part here,” he said, gently releasing himself.</p> + +<p>“Does Fair Face go to trail the Whirlwind?”</p> + +<p>“I go to wrench Kate Merriweather from his grasp. This is my +sole mission; then back to Mad Anthony, to fight in the battle +near at hand.”</p> + +<p>“And Areotha?”</p> + +<p>“Go to the camp over the river, and tell Wolf Cap what I have +done.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23"></a>23</span>A pallor of fear and distrust came over the girl’s face.</p> + +<p>“He hates Areotha, and the young men do not like her.”</p> + +<p>“Do not fear the tall hunter now,” Harvey said.</p> + +<p>“Does he like Areotha?” she cried, brightening up. “She often +dreams about him, but a shadow comes between us, and in his +place is the Whirlwind and his home.”</p> + +<p>“You need not fear him, though he may act strangely sometimes. +He will protect you from the two young men of the party. You may +be of assistance to the fugitives. Stay with them until I come. +Go, little one. God bless you.”</p> + +<p>They parted in the glen, and Harvey Catlett did not stir until +the wood witch had vanished from his sight.</p> + +<p>“I believe it stronger than ever, now,” he said. “I hope it may +be so. Jim Girty, I have virtually sworn to spare your life—for +on this trail we are bound to meet—and there is but one woman +in the world who could have made me promise.”</p> + +<p>A moment later the storm swept glen was not tenanted save by the +man who would never, never leave it.</p> + +<p>Harvey Catlett, with tightened belt and ready rifle, had stepped +upon a new trail, destined to be fraught with strange +adventures.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch14">CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>IN GIRTY’S CABIN.</h3> + + +<p>Kate Merriweather was quite exhausted when the renegade’s forest +home was reached.</p> + +<p>Her strange abduction, rescue and recapture had told upon her +nature, and she crossed Girty’s threshold with a sigh of despair +which did not escape her companion’s notice.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you will not find Jim Girty’s home so bad as your +imagination has pictured it,” he said with a smile. “A British +officer at Fort Miami tells about a place that had over its door +the words, ’who enters here leaves hope behind;’ but that isn’t +my home.”</p> + +<p>Kate shuddered at his heartless levity, which he applauded with +a coarse laugh.</p> + +<p>She felt that the legend that blazed over the portals of Dante’s +hell might with propriety have been inscribed above Girty’s +door.</p> + +<p>She felt like abandoning hope, and resolved not to plead with +the brute into whose hands she had fallen.</p> + +<p>But she determined to protect herself from insult while under +his roof.</p> + +<p>Of the coarse meal which the renegade sat before her Kate +partook, for fatigue had rendered her hungry, and Girty eyed her +triumphantly while she ate.</p> + +<p>The breakfast was at last concluded, and Girty began to remove +the remains of the matutinal meal.</p> + +<p>While engaged in this duty a quick step alarmed him, and a lithe +young Indian appeared in the door-way.</p> + +<p>Girty stepped forward with a smile of recognition, for the youth +was clad in the scanty costume of a runner, and the message +which he bore was speedily delivered.</p> + +<p>Buckhougahelas, the great sachem, and the confederate chiefs +were about to advance upon Wayne, and requested the White +Whirlwind’s presence.</p> + +<p>During the delivery of the dispatch an uneasiness was visible in +Girty’s face, which would not have escaped the notice of an +older warrior. It was evident that he did not expect the news at +that hour.</p> + +<p>“What says the Whirlwind?”</p> + +<p>“I will come. Before the end of another sleep I will be with my +braves.”</p> + +<p>The runner bowed, and snatching a piece of venison from the +rough table, he bounded away, eating as he ran.</p> + +<p>“A pretty fix! a pretty fix!” muttered the renegade to himself, +turning from the door and glancing at his captive. “I am one of +them as much as Mataquan, the runner. I have helped on the war; +I have stirred up the nations; I have made them mad and +bloodthirsty. Shall I desert them now, because I have a woman on +my hands? If I remained from the fight my life would not be +worth a leaf, for the survivors would hunt me down.”</p> + +<p>He stepped to the table with the last word on his lips, and his +hand was about to continue his work, when the door which he had +closed was burst open and two Indians leaped into the room.</p> + +<p>There were but few savages whom the renegade had reason to +dread, for was he not virtually an Indian, though white-skinned +and English? But he turned quickly upon the intruders, and +started back when he saw their faces.</p> + +<p>They were Parquatoc, and Sackadac, the Shawnee; the ring leaders +of the cabal against his life!</p> + +<p>James Girty, ever quick to act in the face of danger, sprang to +his rifle; but before his hand could seize the trusty weapon, +the Seneca youth bounded upon him and bore him to the cabin +wall.</p> + +<p>It was the work of a moment, and no giant could have withstood +the terrible spring.</p> + +<p>The outlaw recovered in an instant, and his great strength would +have released him from Parquatoc’s power if the Shawnee had not +flown to his comrade’s aid. Girty was in the hands of two men +who had sworn to rid the world of his detestable shape.</p> + +<p>He was disarmed in a moment, and found himself at the mercy of +his foes, who confronted him with weapons, eager to drink his +blood.</p> + +<p>“Call white hunter,” said the Seneca to his companion, and +Sackadac went to the door.</p> + +<p>At a signal from his lips a third party joined the Indians, and +as he crossed the threshold a cry of joy was heard, and Kate +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24"></a>24</span>Merriweather leaped forward to fall into his arms. It was her +lover, Oscar Parton.</p> + +<p>Girty ground his teeth as he witnessed the meeting, and fixed +his eyes upon his captors.</p> + +<p>“The blood of Parquatin is on the Whirlwind’s knife!” said the +Seneca. “He cut his heart because he dared to talk for peace.”</p> + +<p>“Not for that!” grated the renegade. “He called me coward, and +no man calls me that and lives.”</p> + +<p>“The Whirlwind is a coward!” flashed the youth! “He kills a boy +when he stands before him unarmed. Parquatin was but a boy; he +was wearing his first eagle feathers, and he had never made love +to a woman.”</p> + +<p>“And he never will!” said Girty with sarcasm which cut its way +to the Indian brother’s heart.</p> + +<p>Parquatoc raised his rifle with a meaning glance at the Shawnee, +and stepped toward the door.</p> + +<p>“The Whirlwind has killed his last man!” the youth resumed, as +the barrel crept up to a level with the renegade’s breast. “He +will never press the grass trails again with his moccasins, and +the white women will sleep in peace with their papooses at their +side. Parquatin’s blood must flow over the Whirlwind’s; the new +moon must smile upon his carcass.”</p> + +<p>“Shoot and be done with it!” Girty said, without a quiver of the +muscles. “I am in your power, and as every man can’t live over +the time which has been marked out for him, I am not going to +play the baby here.”</p> + +<p>They say that murderers are cowards. A greater murderer than +James Girty never cursed the early west; but not a single +instance of cowardice stands against his record. He looked into +Parquatoc’s rifle without fear, and his countenance did not +change when the Indian’s cheek dropped upon the stock.</p> + +<p>It was a moment fraught with the wildest interest, and in the +silence the beating of hearts was heard.</p> + +<p>But that tableau was rudely broken, and that by a white man who +suddenly threw himself into the cabin and pushed the rifle of +the Seneca aside.</p> + +<p>Every eye was turned upon him, and the tomahawks of the Indians +leaped from their belts.</p> + +<p>“I hate that man with all my heart,” the new comer cried, +addressing the Indians as he pointed to the renegade, surprised +with the rest. “I wouldn’t spare his life but for a little +while. He knows something which I must know; then my red +brother’s rifle may send the bullet to his heart.”</p> + +<p>Girty looked, stared into the speaker’s face.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” he asked before the Indian could reply.</p> + +<p>“My name is Catlett.”</p> + +<p>“A spy of Wayne’s?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>The savages exchanged looks, and Parquatoc spoke:</p> + +<p>“The Blacksnake’s spy has no right to step between Parquatoc and +his captive,” he said.</p> + +<p>“No!” hissed the Shawnee.</p> + +<p>“Stand aside!” continued the Seneca, menacingly.</p> + +<p>But Harvey Catlett did not stir.</p> + +<p>The Indians advanced upon him.</p> + +<p>“Hold!” cried Oscar Parton. “He will join us! He will wear the +mark which you gave me.”</p> + +<p>“No white spy shall wear it!” was the reply.</p> + +<p>Face to face with the two savages stood Wayne’s young scout, +composed and unyielding. He intended to kill the first savage +who raised a hand against him.</p> + +<p>But all at once James Girty moved from the wall. With one of his +powerful bounds, he hurled himself upon the spy, whom he sent +reeling against Parquatoc, and the next moment he was running +for life through the forest.</p> + +<p>It was in vain that Oscar Parton and the Shawnee, the first to +recover, tried to cover him with their rifles. The renegade was +fleet of foot, and a yell announced his escape and future +revenge.</p> + +<p>James Girty was at large again, but captiveless; for Kate +Merriweather had fallen into hands that would not desert her.</p> + +<p>Harvey Catlett turned to the Indians when he had recovered his +equilibrium. He told then why he wished to spare Girty’s +life—for the secret of Little Moccasin’s parentage—and when he +had finished, Parquatoc said:</p> + +<p>“The Blacksnake’s spy must join us. All who hate the White +Whirlwind must wear the mark.”</p> + +<p>At Oscar’s solicitation the young spy consented, and Parquatoc’s +knife cut the sign of the banded brotherhood on his breast.</p> + +<p>“Back to the white people with their child!” the Seneca said. +“The big fight is coming on.”</p> + +<p>They parted there—red and white—and Kate once more turned her +face toward her relatives<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch15">CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>THE FOREST WHIPPING POST.</h3> + + +<p>The Merriweather family did not make rapid progress toward Wayne +after Kate’s abduction. A gloom had settled over the little band +of fugitives, and they desired to remain near the spot which had +been so fatal to one of their number.</p> + +<p>A degree of safety returned with Wolf Cap’s accession to their +numbers, and the tall borderman did not cease to assure them +that Harvey Catlett was an experienced scout. He firmly believed +that he would restore Kate to their arms, and this quieted the +parents and made them feel hopeful.</p> + +<p>“Think of my loss,” the hunter would say, when the parents +murmured at the theft of their child. “Think of a man coming +home and finding his cabin in ashes, and the bones <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25"></a>25</span>of his family +among them. I had one of the best wives in the world, and a +little girl who was just beginning to call me ’papa.’”</p> + +<p>“You have had revenge?” said Abel Merriweather.</p> + +<p>“Ask the woods, the streams, and the Indian villages that lie +between the Ohio and the Maumee if I have not glutted my thirst +for vengeance. But it has not restored my family. I have killed, +but the blows that I have dealt did not give back my child’s +kiss, my wife’s embrace. No; there is no satisfaction in +vengeance. Man ought to leave his wrongs to God, who punishes +the guilty in the end.”</p> + +<p>Thus Wolf Cap often talked to Abel Merriweather and his family, +and afterward he would relapse into a silence from which no one +attempted to draw him. He would stand for hours in a reverie +like a harmless lunatic, and more than once the sun which found +him in this state at the meridian, saw him there at its setting.</p> + +<p>He was the guide. Every foot of the Maumee wood was known to +him, and with his eye turned to the west, he slowly but surely +led the fugitives in the direction of Wayne’s camp.</p> + +<p>The sun was creeping zenithward one warm morning, when a boat +left the northern shore of the Maumee and pushed out into the +stream. Its single occupant was a girlish person whose face was +very lovely, and whose browned hands seemed accustomed to the +use of paddles.</p> + +<p>She steered for the opposite bank, and despite the rapids, which +threatened at times to capsize the frail craft, she reached her +destination. With an agile bound she sprang upon shore, and made +the canoe fast to a clump of bushes. Then she took a rifle from +the bottom of the boat, and looked into the forest that trended +to the bank which she had gained.</p> + +<p>It was Little Moccasin.</p> + +<p>After satisfying herself that no person had observed her +movements, she moved from the shore; but a minute later the +clicking of gun locks brought her to a halt, and she heard a +voice that startled her.</p> + +<p>“Don’t lift your gun, or we’ll drop you in your tracks.”</p> + +<p>Then the girl saw the speaker, for he had slipped from behind a +tree, and beside him stood a companion.</p> + +<p>With a cry of recognition which made Little Moccasin’s eyes +sparkle with delight, she started toward the twain, whose faces +were darkened by scowls.</p> + +<p>“Areotha is glad to meet her brothers,” she said. “Fair Face has +sent her——”</p> + +<p>“No fixed up story!” interrupted one of the whites, who was Carl +Merriweather; his companion was George Darling.</p> + +<p>“We won’t listen to you,” said the latter. “We’ve seen enough of +your sleek-tongued treachery, and by Jove, we’re going to put an +end to it.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s face grew pale.</p> + +<p>“Will the white men listen to Areotha?”</p> + +<p>“No; and beside, we wouldn’t believe you if we did!” said Carl. +“Of course you were in league with that rascally guide, and he +stole my sister. Do you know what we ought to do with you? Why, +we would be serving you right if we whipped you to death right +here. God knows how many boats of our people you have decoyed +into the hands of the Indians. A female renegade is the meanest +thing on earth.”</p> + +<p>“Areotha will talk,” said the girl, who had waited with +impatience for the young Hotspur to finish. “The hot-headed +young men may shut their ears; but the Manitou will listen. He +never turns away from the sound of his people’s voice.”</p> + +<p>“Go on, then,” said Darling. “Spit out the pretty story you have +cooked up.”</p> + +<p>Little Moccasin gave the speaker a glance of hatred, and then +said in her silvery tone:</p> + +<p>“Areotha comes from the Blacksnake’s spy. The guide is dead; he +sleeps where the storm tore down the trees. Fair Face says that +he will soon bring the white girl back to her people!”</p> + +<p>“And he sent you here to say this?” said Carl Merriweather, in a +tone which told that he did not believe a word which had fallen +from the girl’s lips.</p> + +<p>“He told Areotha to tell the mother and the father this, that +their eyes might get bright again.”</p> + +<p>“It is a pretty story, but it don’t go down,” Carl said.</p> + +<p>The black eyes flashed again.</p> + +<p>“You might as well have told us that Kate was in the camp now,” +said George Darling.</p> + +<p>“That is so!”</p> + +<p>“We believe that you are the biggest mischief-maker in these +parts. Who knows how many young men you have decoyed to their +doom by your smiles. And now you have another in your net—a +brave young fellow, but blind enough to follow your infernal +witchery to his death. Come, lay your rifle down; we want to +deal with you as you deserve.”</p> + +<p>“If we let you off with a whole skin you may thank our mercy,” +said Carl with a smile.</p> + +<p>Little Moccasin, finding herself completely in the power of the +young men, hesitated a moment, and then dropping her rifle, +surrendered herself. There was no pity in her captor’s eyes, and +her pale face made them laugh outright.</p> + +<p>“A little whipping—that is all!” said George Darling, +fiendishly, as he seized the girl’s arm and led her to a tree +that stood near by.</p> + +<p>While Carl guarded her, his companion stripped a lynn tree of +its bark covering, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26"></a>26</span>which he converted into ropes, and returned +to the selected tree.</p> + +<p>Blushing at the purposed indignity, the girl permitted herself +to be lashed to the tree—her cheek against the bark—but with +pressed lips and flashing eyes.</p> + +<p>This operation performed, a number of keen withes were selected, +and armed with several bundles which had been converted into +whips as cutting as the Russian knout, the gallant young +bordermen approached their captive.</p> + +<p>“Now my forest lady,” said Darling, sarcastically, “we’ll give +you a dressing that will not be forgotten on your dying day. +Come, now, confess that you are a forest witch in league with +Jim Girty and his minions, red and white.”</p> + +<p>“The Manitou knows that Areotha never lifted a hand against the +American people.”</p> + +<p>“Lying to the last,” said Carl. “Ten extra licks for that.”</p> + +<p>“Twenty of them,” answered Darling, eager to deal the first +blow.</p> + +<p>“We should have taken off her jacket.”</p> + +<p>“No, the sticks will cut through it like a razor.”</p> + +<p>“Then let her have the whipping, George. When your arm tires, I +will continue the work.”</p> + +<p>George Darling selected the longest bundle of withes, and +stepped back for a terrible sweeping blow. The girl gritted her +teeth and waited. Her white face seemed frozen against the tree.</p> + +<p>With demoniac pleasure in his eye, the young man raised the whip +and swung his arm back for the blow. Carl Merriweather did not +cease to watch him.</p> + +<p>The second of silence that followed was suddenly broken, but not +by the sound of the sticks on Little Moccasin’s back.</p> + +<p>There came a stern voice from the right:</p> + +<p>“Stop! I’ll kill the rascal that touches that girl!”</p> + +<p>George Darling started, and the knout fell from his hand. There +were more than one white face beneath the tree.</p> + +<p>“You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!” said the same voice, +and the would-be whippers saw Wolf Cap advancing. “It is a +pretty business for two young men to be engaged in—whipping a +girl in the woods. By hokey! I ought to take the whips and wear +them out on your backs.”</p> + +<p>The youths were too astonished to reply. They trembled like +criminals before the tall spy, and did not stir until he had cut +the girl’s bonds and released her.</p> + +<p>“Go back to the camp!” he commanded. “Or hold! Apologize to this +creature. Down on your knees, or by the great horn spoon, I’ll +cut your faces into strings with your own whips.”</p> + +<p>The tall man was in a tempest of passion, and, frightened almost +out of their wits, the young men dropped upon the ground and +craved forgiveness of the creature whom they had so grossly +insulted.</p> + +<p>“Areotha cannot hate the Americans,” she said softly. “She will +forget the bark and the whips.”</p> + +<p>Sullen and abashed, Carl Merriweather and his companion slunk +away, leaving Wolf Cap and Little Moccasin at the tree.</p> + +<p>For a long time the scout and spy looked into the girl’s eyes, +and all at once he covered his face with his hands and groaned.</p> + +<p>“Every time I see her I think of that terrible night,” he said.</p> + +<p>“What does the hunter say?” said the girl, catching his words +but indistinctly, for they were spoken through his great hard +hands.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” Wolf Cap answered, starting at the sound of her +voice. “Nothing; don’t speak to me! You make me think of a voice +that I heard when I was a happy man.”</p> + +<p>As he uttered the last word, he staggered back with great +emotion, and saw Little Moccasin staring strangely into his +face.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch16">CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE BROTHERS’ LAST INTERVIEW.</h3> + + +<p>Meanwhile Wayne was advancing with that caution and intrepidity +which had rendered him famous in wars prior to the one in which +he was then engaged. His spies brought him hourly reports of the +movements of the enemy, and he knew where the decisive conflict +would be fought.</p> + +<p>The allied tribes had selected as their battle ground the forest +of Presqu’-Isle, a place on the left bank of the Maumee, and +almost within reach of the guns of the British Fort Miami.</p> + +<p>During the night preceding the battle, the chiefs of the +different nations assembled in council, and it was proposed by +some to go up and attack Wayne in his encampment. The +proposition was opposed, and the council did not determine to +attack him that night!</p> + +<p>A great deal of responsibility rested upon this nocturnal +council, at which the Girtys were present. Simon did not say +much in the council, but held private talks with the prominent +chiefs. He approved the plan of attacking the Americans in their +camp, and his plan was ably seconded by Little Turtle and +others.</p> + +<p>The fate of the tribes of the Northwestern Territory hung upon +the decision of the council.</p> + +<p>“We have beaten the enemy twice under separate commanders,”<a name="FNanchor_E" id="FNanchor_E" href="#Footnote_E" class="fnanchor">[E]</a> +said the Turtle in the council. “We cannot expect the same good +fortune always to attend us.”</p> + +<p>“The Americans are now led by a chief who never sleeps. The +night and day are alike to him, and during all the time he has +been marching upon our villages, notwithstanding the wakefulness +of our young men, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27"></a>27</span>we have not been able to surprise him. Think +well of it. There is something whispers to me that it would be +prudent to listen to his offers of peace.”<a name="FNanchor_F" id="FNanchor_F" href="#Footnote_F" class="fnanchor">[F]</a></p> + +<p>To this speech James Girty was the first to reply. His voice was +for war to the knife. He scouted at ideas of peace, when the +seven tribes had sworn to stand side by side and oppose the +Americans. He accused of cowardice all who talked of submission, +and cast scornful glances at his brother Simon and the Turtle. +Clad in the war dress which he usually wore on such occasions, +and with the fitful flashes of the council fire in his face, he +seemed a very demon of war and blood.</p> + +<p>His voice went afar into the night, and startled the warriors +who had been forbidden to attend the council.</p> + +<p>“We will surely fight the Blacksnake, for the Whirlwind is +talking,” they said with delight.</p> + +<p>It was midnight when the council broke up, its participants in +no good humor, for the Turtle’s speech had sown much dissension +in the Indian ranks, and that night many a red man saved his +life by deserting the common cause.</p> + +<p>It was decided to fight Wayne at Presqu’-Isle.</p> + +<p>After the adjournment of the council the several chiefs hurried +to their respective legions to prepare for the conflict. James +Girty wended his way toward the Miami camp. He was ill at ease, +and ever and anon his hands closed and opened spasmodically, and +he muttered as he went along:</p> + +<p>“Is he tired of war? Is he going to turn gentleman? He is a +coward! He is not worthy the name of Girty.”</p> + +<p>These words fell in audible tones from the renegade’s lips. They +were hissed from a heart which was a very cauldron of anger.</p> + +<p>“James?”</p> + +<p>At the sound of his name the outlaw stopped, and turning, +recognized the speaker.</p> + +<p>“I am tired of war; but I am not a coward.”</p> + +<p>The renegade brothers stood face to face in the forest.</p> + +<p>For a moment neither spoke. They stood apart, as if each had +determined not to approach the other.</p> + +<p>“You are for peace, Simon,” James said.</p> + +<p>“I would stay the slaughter that will follow our meeting with +Wayne,” was the reply.</p> + +<p>Simon Girty trying to prevent the effusion of blood? It seemed +one of the impossibilities of his nature.</p> + +<p>A grim smile passed over the Whirlwind’s face.</p> + +<p>“Then fly to-night,” he said bitterly. “Go to the great cities +and exchange your bloody hatchet for the priests’ robes of +religion. I am for war! No man shall ever say that Jim Girty +turned from a chance to shed American blood. We are brothers. +Simon, is it true that you are tired of slaughter?”</p> + +<p>“I am. We have been devils long enough, James.”</p> + +<p>“When did you experience this wonderful change?”</p> + +<p>The speaker’s sarcasm made the solitary listener bite his lip.</p> + +<p>“Do you know who is with Wayne?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Two thousand men that long to drink my blood.”</p> + +<p>“<i>He</i> is there—<i>they</i> are there!”</p> + +<p>“Ha?”</p> + +<p>“Abner Stark reached Wayne not long since. He brought a family +of fugitives into camp. That man has been hunting you ever since +you murdered his family in Kentucky. Fifty more avengers of +desolated homes are with Wayne, and there are people in our own +ranks who hate you. The blood of Parquatin will be avenged.”</p> + +<p>For a moment James Girty looked searchingly into Simon’s face.</p> + +<p>“Parquatin!” he said. “Simon, his blood is on your hands. You +put him up to what he did in the council. I should have spared +the boy, and killed you. Oh, what a brother you have been to me! +And now with fiendish delight you tell me that I will fall +to-morrow. Let it come! No man shall say that I ever played the +coward. Go your way. I am ashamed to know that I have a brother +whose name is Simon!”</p> + +<p>The last word still quivered the outlaw’s lips as he turned on +his heel and deliberately walked away.</p> + +<p>Simon Girty watched him until the ghostly shadows of the trees +hid him from sight, and said, as he turned toward the Indian +camp:</p> + +<p>“Simon Girty will be brotherless to-morrow night.”</p> + +<p>There was a tinge of regret in his tone, for despite their hates +and jealousies, their inhumanity to one another, the renegade +brothers were not devoid of every spark of brotherly affection.</p> + +<p>And the night wore on, and at last the day came. It was the +bloody and disastrous twentieth of August, 1794.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h2 id="ch17">CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>FIELD OF THE FALLEN TIMBERS.</h3> + + +<p>We return to other characters of our romance in order to glance +at their adventures from our last dealings with them up to the +night before the great fight for supremacy on the shores of the +Maumee.</p> + +<p>We left Kate Merriweather returning to her kindred with Harvey +Catlett and her lover after her rescue in the cabin of James +Girty.</p> + +<p>The restoration was effected without incident worthy of record, +and the girl at last found herself in her mother’s arms.</p> + +<p>The journey was then resumed, and the entire party, with the +exception of Little Moccasin, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28"></a>28</span>who mysteriously returned to the +forest, reached Mad Anthony’s camp.</p> + +<p>It may well be believed that Abel Merriweather breathed free +again when he found his little family behind the bayonets of the +American army, and he hastened to enroll himself among the ranks +of bordermen led by Wells and the Choctaw chief Hummingbird.</p> + +<p>In this legion were also found Oscar Parton, George Darling, and +little, but fearless Carl Merriweather. Harvey Catlett was +unattached, and Wolf Cap given the liberty of the field.</p> + +<p>Around and upon the Hill of Presqu’-Isle the Indian forces had +posted themselves, having their left secured by the river, and +their front by a kind of breastwork of fallen timbers which +rendered it impracticable for cavalry to advance. It was a +position admirably chosen, but useless, as history tells.</p> + +<p>Impatiently the allied tribes awaited the American army. The +chiefs, with few exceptions, were confident, for had they not +beaten Harmar and St. Clair?</p> + +<p>The Girtys had not shirked the battle, but there was a +restlessness about Simon’s movements that attracted attention. +James, on the contrary, was firm and boastful. Wherever he went +he encouraged the Indians to stand firm, promising them victory +and its tempting spoils. But there were keen eyes fixed upon +him.</p> + +<p>In the scarlet ranks were many who carried a long scar on their +breasts—the mark of the brotherhood to whom Parquatin’s blood +cried for vengeance.</p> + +<p>In two splendid columns, with trailed arms, Wayne’s army +advanced upon the savages. A terrible fire greeted the +onslaught, and the General soon discovered that the enemy were +in full force and endeavoring, with some show of success, to +turn his left flank. Then came the tug of war, and for hours the +carnival of battle raged among the fallen timbers and around the +base of the hill.</p> + +<p>“At last! look Harvey!”</p> + +<p>Wolf Cap pointed through an opening, and Harvey Catlett, the +spy, saw the sight to which his attention was called.</p> + +<p>There, in a little space made by the death of a forest tree, +stood a man whose face was begrimed with powder. His half savage +uniform was torn and blackened by the battle, and he seemed +debating whether to fly or plunge again into the fight.</p> + +<p>“It is he!” said the young spy, looking up into Wolf Cap’s face. +“It is Jim Girty.”</p> + +<p>“The man who darkened all my life!” was the hissed reply. “For +years I have hunted him. Now he is mine!”</p> + +<p>Quick to the speaker’s shoulder leaped the deadly rifle, and his +cheek dropped upon the stock for aim.</p> + +<p>Harvey Catlett watched the renegade, unconscious of his swiftly +approaching doom.</p> + +<p>All at once James Girty bounded into the air, and with a death +cry that sounded above the roar of battle, fell on his face, and +stretched his brawny arms in the agony of death.</p> + +<p>Wolf Cap lowered his rifle and wheeled upon the spy.</p> + +<p>“Did you shoot?” he cried.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Then who did? Some one has cheated me of my revenge!”</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he glanced to the right and saw a young Indian +reloading his rifle.</p> + +<p>“It is Parquatoc!” said Harvey Catlett.</p> + +<p>With a maddened cry the tall hunter sprang forward; but the +Seneca youth eluded him, and disappeared in the twinkling of an +eye.</p> + +<p>“Come! The battle rolls towards the British fort!” the young spy +said, rousing Wolf Cap, who had relapsed into one of his +singular reveries.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; we will go. But let us see whether he is dead.”</p> + +<p>The twain hurried to the spot where James Girty had fallen. Wolf +Cap turned him over, and saw the eyes start at sight of him.</p> + +<p>“The butcherer still lives!” the trailer said, as his hand +grasped the handle of his tomahawk. “Harvey, I can yet revenge +the murdered ones.”</p> + +<p>But the youth’s hand fell restrainingly on Wolf Cap’s arm.</p> + +<p>“No. He is dying, Abner. Let us keep our hands in this hour. Get +down and hear what he says.”</p> + +<p>The two knelt beside the dreaded scourge of the Northwest, +powerless now to harm a babe. Words were falling from his lips, +and his eyes remained fixed upon Abner Stark.</p> + +<p>“They did it!” he said. “It was a redskin’s bullet, and +Parquatoc’s. No more battles for Jim Girty. Listen, Abner Stark, +for I know you. You have hunted me a long time, to find me +dying. Where is the girl?”</p> + +<p>Wolf Cap started, and glanced at the spy.</p> + +<p>“He talks about some girl, Harvey.”</p> + +<p>“Is the girl here?” asked the outlaw in a louder voice. “No? +Must I die without seeing her? Well, let it be so. Abner Stark, +when she comes, take her in your arms and call her your child, +for such she is. I saved her from Indian fury that night, and I +have tried to be good to her, bad as I am. I thought I would +never tell you this.”</p> + +<p>“This is all true, Girty?” cried Stark, scarcely able to credit +the revelation.</p> + +<p>“On the word of the dying, Abner Stark. Why should I lie now?”</p> + +<p>Then Wolf Cap raised his eyes towards heaven, and poured out the +gratitude of a father’s soul.</p> + +<p>When he looked again at the prostrate outlaw, it was to say:</p> + +<p>“I am glad I did not shoot you.”</p> + +<p>Girty smiled, and tried to speak; but the effort proved a +failure, and the head fell back.</p> + +<p>It was all over. The White Whirlwind was dead, and the flowers +which his restless <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29"></a>29</span>feet had pressed to earth, lifted their heads +and smiled.</p> + +<p>“Come, Abner!” said Catlett.</p> + +<p>The hunter obeyed, but, as he rose, he caught sight of a rapidly +approaching figure, and stood still.</p> + +<p>The next moment Little Moccasin came up, and Wolf Cap lifted her +from the ground, and in his embrace covered her face with +kisses.</p> + +<p>He held her there until the sound of battle died away, and when +he released her, she glided to Harvey Catlett’s side and put her +hands in his.</p> + +<p>“Areotha is glad, Fair Face,” she said, her eyes sparkling with +joy. “The real father is found, and he will be happy until the +Manitou sends for all of us.”</p> + +<p>There, on the bloody battlefield of the Fallen Timbers, Wolf Cap +had found his child. It was a reunion impossible to describe, +but many a heart beat in unison with the father’s in the bivouac +that night.</p> + +<p>Of course, Little Moccasin left the woods and became Harvey +Catlett’s bride, while the backwoods preacher made Oscar Parton +and the settler’s daughter one.</p> + +<p>Thus, with Wayne’s decisive victory over the allied tribes, end +the trails which we have followed through the summer woods of +the Maumee.<br /> +<br /></p> + +<h3>THE END.</h3> + + +<div class="tnote"><div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_A" id="Footnote_A" href="#FNanchor_A" class="label">[A]</a> Changed from LITTLE MOCCASIN.</p> +<p><a name="Footnote_B" id="Footnote_B" href="#FNanchor_B" class="label">[B]</a> The Mississippi.</p> +<p><a name="Footnote_C" id="Footnote_C" href="#FNanchor_C" class="label">[C]</a> Yankee or American.</p> +<p><a name="Footnote_D" id="Footnote_D" href="#FNanchor_D" class="label">[D]</a> The Maumee. So called on account of its rapids.</p> +<p><a name="Footnote_E" id="Footnote_E" href="#FNanchor_E" class="label">[E]</a> Harmar and St. Clair.</p> +<p><a name="Footnote_F" id="Footnote_F" href="#FNanchor_F" class="label">[F]</a> Historical.</p> +</div></div> + + +<h1>TREED BY A BEAR.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30"></a>30</span></h1> + +<h3>BY EBEN E. REXFORD.</h3> + + +<p>We were gathered around the fire at grandfather’s, one winter +evening, cracking butternuts and drinking cider, when one of the +boys called out for a story, and proposed that grandfather +should be the one to tell it.</p> + +<p>“Yes, do tell us a story; please,” spoke up half a dozen voices; +“you haven’t told us a story in a long time, grandfather.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe I can think of anything new,” said grandfather; +“I told you all my stories a long time ago.”</p> + +<p>“Tell us the one about your being treed by a bear,” suggested +the prospective hunter of the party; “you haven’t told that to +all of us.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, tell us that one,” cried the children in chorus, and +grandfather began:</p> + +<p>“When your grandmother and I moved into the country, it didn’t +look much as it does now. There were no clearings of more than +three or four acres in extent, and the settlers were scattered +here and there through the woods, two or three miles apart. I +came on before your grandmother did, and put up a rough shanty +of logs, with a bark roof, and a floor of split pieces of +basswood. You may be sure of one thing, children, and that is, +we didn’t have things very nice and handy in those days; but we +were just beginning, and we had to do the best we could, and +what we couldn’t help we had to put up with.</p> + +<p>“I built a little stable for our cow, which I left with your +grandmother in the settlement where you find a city to-day, +until I got ready to move my family and all my earthly +possessions into the woods where I was making my new home. I +cleared off a little patch of ground and got it ready for a +garden, and then went after your grandmother and our household +goods.</p> + +<p>“It was a two days’ drive to this place from the settlement +then. I hired a man to bring your grandmother and our things, +while I drove old Brindle. I shall never forget our first few +days in our new home. We couldn’t get used to it for some +reason. Everything was so rough, and clumsy and awkward, I +suppose.</p> + +<p>“Your grandmother got homesick, and didn’t want me to leave her +alone a minute. She was afraid of bears and Indians, and she +remembered all the fearful stories she had ever heard or read, +of the terrible things that happened to settlers in the +backwoods.</p> + +<p>“As I was busy at work in clearing up a piece of ground round +the shanty, I didn’t have to leave her alone except when I went +after old Brindle nights. The feed in the woods was so plenty +that the old cow didn’t care whether she came home or not, and I +had to lock her up every night as regular as night came. +Sometimes I found her close by home, and sometimes two or three +miles off. She wore a little bell which I could hear some +distance off from where she was, and it wasn’t very hard work to +find her.</p> + +<p>“I almost always took my gun with me when I went after the old +cow, and hardly ever missed bringing home a partridge or a +squirrel, which your grandmother would cook for our dinner next +day. We had plenty of game in those days, and it was splendid +hunting any where you took a notion to go. The woods were full +of deer and all kinds of fowl, and so far as that kind of food +was concerned, we lived on the fat of the land.</p> + +<p>“One night, after we had been here about a month, I started to +hunt up the cow, and forgot my gun until I had got so far that I +concluded I wouldn’t go back after it. I went on through the +woods in the direction I had seen old Brindle go in the morning +when I let her out of the stable, but I could hear no bell. I +wandered round and round through the woods until it got to be +quite dark. I must have got ’turned round,’ as we used to say in +those days when we got bewildered, and couldn’t tell which way +was north or south, for when I gave up hunting for the cow and +concluded to go home I didn’t know which way to go.</p> + +<p>“However, I started in the direction I thought most likely led +towards home. I had been going straight ahead, as I supposed, +for ten or fifteen minutes, when I heard something coming toward +me with a heavy tread, and pretty soon I heard a growl. Then I +knew what it was. I had never seen a bear in the woods, and I +had no idea about what sort of fellows they were to meet.</p> + +<p>“If I had had my gun along I should have stood my ground, but +without any kind of weapon I thought it best to look out for any +possible danger, and made for a tree which stood near me. I was +a good climber, and in a minute I was stowed away safely in the +branches. But I had hardly reached my position when the bear +came running up to the tree, and began walking round and round +it, stopping every few seconds to raise himself <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31"></a>31</span>up on his hind +feet and take a look at me, or else stretching up against the +tree as far as he could reach, as if he hesitated climbing up +after me.</p> + +<p>“I had a jack-knife with me, and I cut off a limb, which I +trimmed into something like a club, to defend myself with if he +concluded to come up and make a visit. Whenever he showed a +desire to do so, by reaching up his great black paws and tearing +away at the bark with his claws, I pounded my club against the +body of the tree as far down as I could reach toward him, and +that frightened him enough to keep him from climbing.</p> + +<p>“But I couldn’t frighten him away. He kept walking round and +round the tree growling and whining very much like a dog, and I +made up my mind that he had concluded to wait for me to come +down. But I had no notion of doing that yet a while.</p> + +<p>“Two or three hours went by. I wondered what your grandmother +would think had happened to me. I knew she would be frightened +almost to death, and that worried me, but I saw no way of +getting out of the difficulty I had got into, and concluded I +should have to spend the night in the tree.</p> + +<p>“By and by the moon came up. I could see him distinctly then, as +he kept up his march around me. He was an enormous fellow, and a +man would have stood but little chance for his life with him +unless he had been well armed.</p> + +<p>“Well, he kept watch of me all night. He got tired of walking, +by and by, and laid down close to the tree. Whenever I stirred, +he would rouse up and resume his walk. Neither of us slept. You +may be sure it was a long night to me. I couldn’t help thinking +of your poor grandmother, and wondering what she was doing.</p> + +<p>“At last morning came. I thought the bear would be sure to take +his departure then, but he evidently had made up his mind to see +the thing out, for he made no effort to leave.</p> + +<p>“It must have been about seven o’clock when I heard some one +hallooing not far off, and, peering through the branches, I saw +your grandmother, with my gun on her shoulder. She had started +out to look for me. I saw that the bear had not discovered her, +and I shouted:</p> + +<p>“’Don’t come any nearer, Susan. I’m up the hickory tree, and +there’s a big bear at the foot of it. If he sees you there’ll be +trouble. You’d better go back to the house, and I’ll come as +soon as I can.’</p> + +<p>“I saw her stop and look toward us very earnestly, and I knew +she was thinking whether she could help me out of my difficulty. +Pretty soon I saw her rest the gun over a little sapling and +take sight at the bear, who had squatted down a few feet from +the foot of the tree, and sat there looking up at me as if he +was trying to make out what I was shouting so for.</p> + +<p>“I was just going to tell your grandmother not to shoot, for I +never once supposed she could hit the animal, when, bang! went +the gun, and the bear gave a growl and a leap into the air, +where he spun around like a top, and then dropped flat on the +ground, and never stirred but once or twice afterward.</p> + +<p>“’You’ve killed him!’ I shouted, and slid down from my rather +uncomfortable quarters, just as your grandmother came running +up, pale as a ghost, and almost frightened at what she had dared +to do. The minute she realized there was no danger, she drooped +into my arms, and began to cry.</p> + +<p>“We cut up the bear and took most of it to the house. It kept us +in meat for a long time, and we used the skin for a carpet. I +didn’t forget my gun after that when I went after old Brindle, +you may be quite sure.</p> + +<p>“Your grandmother had never fired off a gun before, but when she +found out that they weren’t such terrible things after all as +she had supposed they must be, she practiced with my rifle until +she could shoot as well as I could, and after that she used to +keep us in partridge and such game, while I cleared off land for +crops. That first shot of hers was the best one she ever made, +however.”</p> + +<p>“And so grandmother really killed a bear!” cried the children, +and straightway the pleasant-faced, smiling grandmother became a +heroine in their estimation, as they thought over the story +grandfather had told.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width:50%" /> + + +<div class="ads"><p><b><span class="sans"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32"></a>32</span>THE NICKEL LIBRARY is not a reprint of Old Stories. It is the +only fresh, original Library Edition, from celebrated authors, +in the United States. No double numbers. No low trash, or +slang.</span></b></p> + + +<h1>The Nickel Library</h1> + +<p>Has very justly become the most popular series of novelettes +that has ever been offered to the public. The reason of this is +apparent: The publishers <i>will not re-print old stories</i>. +Each number of the <span class="smcap">Nickel Library</span> is fresh and +original, and this makes it unlike any other series in the +United States. Every issue is copyrighted by the publishers, +according to the act of Congress. Further than this every number +is complete in itself, no double numbers, and all the books are +of uniform size.</p> + +<p>There is another feature, and perhaps the leading one that has +brought this publication into general favor, and that is its +pure and wholesome tone. While the romances are filled with +thrilling adventures, many of them founded upon history, not a +profane or vulgar word mars a single page, and low expressions +or slang phrases, which have contaminated too much of the cheap +literature of this country, will not be found in <span class="smcap">The Nickel +Library</span>.</p> + +<p>While the stories are enjoyable to the highest degree, the +forest adventures give so correctly the habits and customs of +aboriginal tribes, that a knowledge of the red man’s traits and +cruelties will be gained and retained more vividly than when +found in any other form.</p></div> + + +<h2><span class="sans">CATALOGUE.</span></h2> + + + +<div class="books"><p><b>No. 1—RAINBOW, a Romance of Frontier Life.</b> <span class="smcap">By C. +Leon Meredith.</span> A splendid story of Early Times.</p> + +<p><b>No. 2—CANOE BIRD, or, The Witch of the Dakotas.</b> A tale +of the Great Northwest. <span class="smcap">By C. Leon Meredith.</span> Abounding +in Adventures among the Sioux.</p> + +<p><b>No. 3—BOY CAPTIVE, or The Exiles of the Great Forest.</b> +<span class="smcap">By C. Leon Meredith.</span> A Dashing Tale of the Great Woods.</p> + +<p><b>No. 4—GRAY WOLF. The Boy Hunter.</b> <span class="smcap">By Marline +Manly.</span> A Romance of the Western Wilds.</p> + +<p><b>No. 5—THE YOUNG GOLD HUNTERS.</b> A Tale of the Black Hills. +<span class="smcap">By Marline Manly.</span> A stirring Narrative of the New Gold +Fields.</p> + +<p><b>No. 6—THE HAUNTED RANCH, or The Horse Thieves of the +Border.</b> <span class="smcap">By Harry St. George.</span> A Rousing Story of +Kentucky Backwoods.</p> + +<p><b>No. 7—HOWDEGA, or the Forest Waif.</b> <span class="smcap">By Marline +Manly.</span> A Rattling Tale of the Old Northwest.</p> + +<p><b>No. 8—DUNCAN, or the Giant of the Woods.</b> <span class="smcap">By C. Leon +Meredith.</span> A crowning Forest Story.</p> + +<p><b>No. 9—THE PIRATES FATE, or Doom of the Esmeralda.</b> <span class="smcap">By +Will Fuentres.</span> Best Sea story of the present day.</p> + +<p><b>No. 10—BUCKEYE PIONEERS, or Perils of the Old Frontier.</b> +By the author of “Early Time Incidents.” Traditional stories of +hair-breadth escapes.</p> + +<p><b>No. 11—MOHAWK RANGERS, An Historical Tale of the Cherry +Valley Massacre.</b> <span class="smcap">By Marline Manly.</span> A thrilling +story.</p> + +<p><b>No. 12—BARTOL EDBROOKE, or The Treasure Trove of the +Pacific.</b> <span class="smcap">By Weldon J. Cobb, Jr.</span> A capital tale of +ocean castaways.</p> + +<p><b>No. 13—BORDER PEARL, or The Hermit of the Gulch.</b> <span class="smcap">By +C. Leon Meredith.</span> A powerful romance of the Sierra Nevada +Mountains.</p> + +<p><b>No. 14—BEAVER-CAP BEN, or The Boy Trailers.</b> <span class="smcap">By T. C. +Harbaugh.</span> Brimming over full of wild adventure.</p> + +<p><b>No. 15—BOY WRECKERS, or Secrets of the Sea.</b> <span class="smcap">By Dash +Dale.</span> A Tale of the Hidden Reef.</p> + +<p><b>No. 16—JACK, THE BEAR MAN; or, The Little Mountain +Archer.</b> <span class="smcap">By J. R. Musick</span>, Esq. A story of the Golden +Northwest.</p> + +<p><b>No. 17—LITTLE OSKALOO, or The White Whirlwind.</b> <span class="smcap">By T. +C. Harbaugh.</span> A Story of Ohio in 1794.</p> + +<p><b>No. 18—RED ROLAND; or The Last Cruise of the Storm King.</b> +<span class="smcap">By Will Fuentres.</span> A tale of the old Buccaneers.</p> + +<p><b>No. 19—FIRE FLINT, or the Trappers of the Wabash.</b> <span class="smcap">By +C. Leon Meredith.</span> A rousing story of intrigue and mystery.</p> + +<p><b>No. 20—DESERT PRINCE, or The Eagle of the Seas.</b> <span class="smcap">By +Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.</span> A romance of Morocco and its +waters.</p> + +<p><b>No. 21—OLD SOLITARY, or The Ride to Death.</b> <span class="smcap">By +Marline Manley.</span> A tale of the Prairie Crusade.</p></div> + +<div class="ads"><p><b>Each Book contains Thirty-Two Pages, illustrated, and every +story is Complete in a Single Number. For sale on all News +Stands at 5 cents each.</b></p> + +<p><b>Any single number of THE NICKEL LIBRARY will be sent +post-paid for 6 cents; two numbers for 10 cents; three numbers +for 15 cents, postage stamps or currency. Address,</b></p> + +<div class="tright"><p><b>PICTORIAL PRINTING COMPANY, <br /> +74 & 76 Randolph Street, CHICAGO.</b></p></div></div> + +<div class="tnote"><p><b>Transcriber's Note</b><br /><br /> +Spelling errors include:<br /><br /> + +Page 4, “Shawness” changed to “Shawnees”.<br /> +Page 6, “stubborness” changed to “stubbornness”.<br /> +Page 6, “abrubtly” changed to “abruptly”.<br /> +Page 7, “does'nt” changed to “doesn't” twice.<br /> +Page 7, “did'nt” changed to “didn't” twice.<br /> +Page 7, “was'nt” changed to “wasn't”.<br /> +Page 8, “was'nt” changed to “wasn't”.<br /> +Page 9, “harrangue” changed to “harangue”.<br /> +Page 10, “beligerent” changed to “belligerent”.<br /> +Page 10, “dispises” changed to “despises”.<br /> +Page 10, “particpants” changed to “participants”.<br /> +Page 10, “Parqatin” changed to “Parquatin” for consistency.<br /> +Page 11, “she” changed to “the”.<br /> +Page 14, “secresy” changed to “secrecy”.<br /> +Page 15, “abandond” changed to “abandoned”.<br /> +Page 16, “statue” changed to “stature”.<br /> +Page 16, “cubboard” changed to “cupboard”.<br /> +Page 21, “Paquatoc” changed to “Parquatoc” for consistency.<br /> +Page 22, “ceasd” changed to “ceased”.<br /> +Page 24, “saddenly” changed to “suddenly”.<br /> +Page 27, “Moocasin” changed to “Moccasin”.<br /> +Page 28, “begrimmed” changed to “begrimed”.<br /> +Page 28, “appproaching” changed to “approaching”.<br /> +Page 28, “settlment” changed to “settlement”.<br /> +Page 32, “Briming” changed to “Brimming”.</p></div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Little Oskaloo, by Thomas Chalmers Harbaugh + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE OSKALOO *** + +***** This file should be named 33352-h.htm or 33352-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/3/5/33352/ + +Produced by David Garcia, Jennie Gottschalk and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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