Ellis Edward Sylvester
Wyoming
CHAPTER VIII
The two were compelled to pick their way with extreme care, for there was no saying when some of the wandering Indians would come upon them. It was necessary, as our friends thought, to go considerably farther up, before it would be at all safe to cross the river.
They were yet some distance from the point, when a slight disturbance was heard in a patch of woods in front, and they stopped.
"Wait a minute or two, until I find out what it means," said Fred; "it will save time to go through there, but it won't do to undertake it if it isn't safe."
And before Mr. Brainerd could protest, his son moved forward, as stealthily as an Indian scout, while the former concealed himself until the issue of the reconnoissance should become known.
The old gentleman realized too vividly the horrors of the massacre still going on around them to permit himself to run any unnecessary risk, now that there was a prospect of rejoining his family; and he regretted that his courageous child had gone forward so impulsively, instead of carefully flanking what seemed to be a dangerous spot.
But it was too late now to recall him, for he was beyond sight, and Mr. Brainerd could only wait and hope for the best, while, it may be truly said, he feared the worst.
It was not long before Fred Godfrey began strongly to suspect he had committed an error, from which it required all the skill at his command to extricate himself.
The wood that he had entered covered something less than an acre, and was simply a denser portion of the wilderness through which they had been making their way. He had scarcely entered it when the murmur of voices told him that others were in advance, and he knew enough of the Indians to recognize the sounds as made by them.
It was at that very moment he ought to have withdrawn, and, rejoining Mr. Brainerd, left the neighborhood as silently as possible, but his curiosity led him on.
That curiosity was gratified by the sight of six of his own people held prisoners by a group of twice as many Indians, who, beyond question, were making preparations for putting their victims to death.
As seems to be the rule, these prisoners, all of whom were able-bodied men, most of them young, were in a state of despair and collapse; they were standing up unbound and unarmed, and looking stolidly at their captors, who were also on their feet, but were talking and gesticulating with much earnestness.
The most remarkable figure in the group was a woman. She was doing the principal part of the talking, and in a voice so loud, and accompanied by such energetic gestures, that there could be no doubt that she was the leader.
She was attired in Indian costume, and was evidently a half-breed, though it has been claimed by many that she was of pure Indian blood. She was beyond middle life, her hair being plentifully sprinkled with gray, but she still possessed great strength and activity, and was well fitted to command the Indians, as she did when they marched into and took possession of Forty Fort on the succeeding day.
A son of this strange woman had been killed a short time before, and she was roused to the highest point of fury. She demanded not only the blood of those already captured, but that others should be brought in; and she had established a camp in the place named, until a sufficient number could be secured to satisfy, to a partial extent, her vengeful mood.
She is known in history as Queen Esther and as Katharine Montour. She was queen of the Seneca tribe of Indians – one of the Iroquois or Six Nations – the most powerful confederation of aborigines ever known on this continent.
Her home was in central New York, where the Six Nations had been ruled by Sir William Johnson, the British superintendent, and, among all the furies who entered Wyoming Valley on that day in July, there was none who excelled this being in the ferocity displayed toward the prisoners.
"That must be Queen Esther," thought Fred Godfrey, as he cautiously surveyed the scene; "I have heard of the hecate – "
At that instant a slight rustling behind caused him to turn his head, just in time to catch sight of a shadowy body that came down upon him like an avalanche.
He struggled fiercely, but other Indians joined in, and in a twinkling the lieutenant was disarmed and helpless, and was conducted triumphantly into the presence of Katharine Montour, whose small, black eyes sparkled as she surveyed this addition to her roll of victims, for whose torture she was arranging at that moment.
CHAPTER IX
Gravity Gimp bore as lightly as he could on the stern of the boat, which was already so heavily laden that a little more weight would have sunk it below the surface.
But steady progress was made, and everything was going along "swimmingly," as may be said, when the craft and its occupants began to receive alarming attention from the shore.
The reports of guns, and the shouting and whooping were so continuous that the fugitives had become used to them. The whistling of the bullets about their ears, and the call of Gimp, notified the ladies of their danger, and caused an outcry from Aunt Peggy.
"They're shooting at us, as sure as you live; stoop down, Maggie!"
The elderly lady and little Eva got down so low that they were quite safe. Maggie, however, kept her feet a few moments. Looking back toward the shore, she saw six or eight Indians standing close to the water and deliberately firing at them.
"Stoop down," said Gravity, in a low voice. "I'll take care ob de boat and you see what you can do wid de gun."
The plucky girl acted upon the suggestion. Picking up the weapon of the African (with which she had shot more than one deer), she sank upon her knee, and took careful aim at the group on the shore.
Gravity stopped threshing the water, and twisted around so as to watch the result, while Aunt Peggy and Eva fixed their eyes on the group with painful interest.
When the whip-like crack of the gun broke upon their ears, the spectators saw one of the Iroquois leap in the air and stagger backward, though he did not fall.
"You hit him!" exclaimed the delighted Gravity; "dey'll larn dat some oder folks can fire off a gun as well as dey."
The shot of the girl caused consternation for a minute or two among the group. They had evidently no thought of any one "striking back," now that the panic was everywhere. They could be seen gathering around the warrior, who was helped a few steps and allowed to sit on the ground.
Dropping the rifle, Maggie Brainerd caught up the pole once more and applied it with all the strength at her command, while Gravity threshed the water with renewed vigor.
Hope was now re-awakened that the river might be crossed in safety.
In the nature of things, the dismay among the Iroquois could not last long. They were joined by several new arrivals, among whom was at least one white man.
They saw that the boat was getting farther away, and the fugitives were likely to escape.
Gravity, who continually glanced over his shoulder, warned Maggie and the rest (who, however, were equally alert), so that when the boat was again struck by the whistling bullets no one was harmed.
"Miss Maggie," whispered Gravity, peering over the gunwale, his round face rising like the moon under a full eclipse, "you know dere's another loaded gun; try it agin."
"I musn't miss," she said to herself, sighting the weapon, "for if ever there was a case of self-defense this is one."
All remained quiet while she carefully drew a bead at the foremost figure. Before her aim was sure, she recognized her target as Jake Golcher.
She was startled, and for an instant undecided; but she could not shoot him, even though he deserved it. She slightly swerved the point of her piece, hoping to strike one of the Indians, with the result, however, that she missed altogether.
"Maggie," said Aunt Peggy, with rasping severity, "I've a mind to box your ears; you missed that Tory on purpose; you ought to be ashamed of yourself; I'll tell your father what a perjurer you are."
"I could not do it," replied Maggie, smiling in spite of herself at the spiteful earnestness of her relative.
"Then load up and try it again."
"Time is too precious to delay for loading guns and shooting at our old acquaintances, even if they are Tories."
Aunt Peggy was wise enough to see that Maggie could not be dictated to under such circumstances. She, therefore, held her peace, and watched the young lady, who applied the pole with a vigor hardly second to that of Gravity in his efforts of another kind to force the scow through the water.
Under their joint labors the clumsy craft advanced with considerable speed, every minute taking it farther from the shots that still came from the enemies they were leaving behind.
By and by, the African, while kicking, struck bottom with one foot. With the leverage thus obtained, he shoved the boat faster than before.
By this time those in the rear had ceased firing, and the interest of the occupants of the craft centered on the shore they were approaching.
The water shallowed rapidly, and soon the head and shoulders of Gravity Gimp rose above the gunwale of the scow. He was now enabled to look beyond the boat and scrutinize the point where they were about to land.
He had hardly taken the first glance, when he checked the vessel with such suddenness that Maggie nearly lost her balance. Looking inquiringly at him, she asked, with alarm.
"What's the matter, Gravity?"
"It's no use, Miss Maggie," was the despairing reply; "we may as well give up; don't you see we're cotched? The Tories hab got us dis time, suah!"
CHAPTER X
The scow containing the three fugitives was nearing the eastern shore of the Susquehanna, when the negro servant, Gravity Gimp, stopped, checking the craft by grasping the stern.
At that moment the water scarcely reached his waist, and was shoaling at every step, so that the boat was entirely under his control.
He had good cause for his alarm, for, only an instant before, he had looked behind him at the group of Tories and Indians on the western shore, who had stopped firing, and he saw that several had entered the river with the intention of pushing the pursuit through the desolate wilderness already spoken of as the "Shades of Death."
The distance between the pursuer and pursued was slight, for the Susquehanna is not a very broad river where it meanders through the Wyoming Valley, and there remained so much of daylight that the danger of a collision with their enemies was threatening indeed.
Still the sight increased the efforts to avoid them, and Gravity had not lost his heart by any means, when he looked over the heads of his friends to decide where they were to land.
It will be recalled that they had started below where most of the fugitives were pushing for the other bank, and the action of the current had carried them still lower, so there was reason for hoping they were outside of immediate peril.
But the African had no more than fixed his eye on the point, where there was much wood and undergrowth, than he noticed an agitation of the bushes, and, to his dismay, a tall figure clad in paint and feathers stepped forth to view.
He had a long rifle in one hand, and was daubed in the hideous fashion of the wild Indian on the war-path.
The fact that he advanced thus openly in front of the fugitives, who had been exchanging shots with their foes behind them, was proof to Gravity that he was only one of a large party hidden in the bushes, and into whose hands he and his friends were about to throw themselves.
Thus it was that the little group was caught between two fires.
Worse than all, the two guns in the scow, with which something like a fight might have been made, were empty, and it was out of the question to reload them at this critical moment.
No wonder, therefore, when the faithful negro discovered the trap into which they had run, that he straightened up, checked the boat, and uttered the exclamation I have quoted.
The ladies, with blanched faces glanced from one shore to the other, wondering to which party it was best to surrender themselves.
At this time, the warrior in front stood calmly contemplating them, as if sure there was no escape, and nothing could be added to the terror of the patriots.
"Let us turn down the river," said the brave-hearted Maggie, thrusting the pole into the water again; "they have not captured us yet, and it is better we should all be shot than fall into – "
Just then the four were struck dumb by hearing the savage in front call out:
"What have you stopped work for? Don't turn down the river; hurry over, or those consarned Iroquois will overhaul you!"
Unquestionably that was not the voice of an Indian!
And yet the words were spoken by the painted individual who confronted them, and whom they held in such terror.
He must have suspected their perplexity, for, noticing that they still hesitated, his mouth expanded into a broad grin, as he added:
"Don't you know me? I'm Habakkuk McEwen, and I'm ready to do all I can for you. Hurry up, Gravity; use that pole in the right direction, Maggie; cheer up, Eva, and how are you, Aunt Peggy?"
No words can picture the relief of the little party, on learning that he whom they mistook for an Indian was a white man and a friend.
Habakkuk McEwen was a neighbor, as he had called himself, and came from the same section in Connecticut which furnished the Brainerds and most of the settlers in the Wyoming Valley.
He had enlisted but a few months before, and, though not very brilliant mentally, yet he was well liked in the settlement.
Excepting two individuals – whose identity the reader knows – it may be safely said there was no one whom the patriots could have been more pleased to see than Habakkuk, for he added so much strength to the company that was sorely in need of it, but it may as well be admitted, that the honest fellow, although a volunteer in the defense of his country against the British invaders, was sometimes lacking in the courage so necessary to the successful soldier. However, there he was, and the words were scarcely out of his mouth when the scow ran plump against the bank, the depth of the water just permitting it, and Habakkuk cordially shook hands with each as he helped them out, winding up with a fervid grip of the African's huge palm.
His tongue was busy while thus engaged.
"You took me for an Injin, did you? Well, I'm pleased to hear that, for it is complimentary to my skill, for that's what I got up this rig for. I knowed what the danger was, and it struck me that if I was going to sarcumvent Injins it was a good idea to start out like one."
"Have you just arrived, Habakkuk?" asked Maggie.
"Not more than half an hour ago – you see – but let's get away from this spot, for some of them loose bullets may hit us."
This was prudent advice, for their pursuers were at that moment forcing their way through the river in pursuit.
"Gravity, you know this neighborhood better than I do – so take the lead," said the disguised patriot: "and move lively, for I begin to feel nervous."
"I kin move lively when dere's need ob it," replied the servant, "and it looks to me as if there couldn't be a better time for hurryin' dan dis identical one."
Gimp was familiar with the valley and mountains for miles around, and he threw himself at once in the advance, the rest following with rapid footsteps.
As they hastened toward the "Shades of Death" (and the name was never more appropriate than on that eventful night), Habakkuk McEwen explained how it was he arrived as he did.
"We fit the battle of Monmouth on the 28th of June, so you kin see I've had to travel fast to git here even as late as I did. But a lot of us heard that trouble was coming for Wyoming, and we've been uneasy for a fortnight. Three of us went to Gineral Washington and argufied the matter with him; he seemed to be worried and anxious to do all he could, and he said that Connecticut orter lend a hand, as we were her colony, but he was after the Britishers just then, and he wouldn't 'low us to go till arter the battle.
"Wal, we had a first-class battle down there at Monmouth in Jersey, and we and Molly Pitcher made the redcoats dance to the tune of 'Yankee Doodle' as they haven't danced since Saratoga and Trenton. Whew! But wasn't the day hot, and didn't the dust fly along that road! Well, I jus' felt when we had 'em on the run, that if the Susquehanna could be turned down my throat, I would stand it for a couple of hours.
"Howsumever, just as soon as the battle was over, and I seen the Gineral had 'em, even though Gineral Lee tried to betray us, why, I just pulled out and started for Wyoming.
"I didn't wait for the other chaps either, for, somehow or other, I had the feeling strong that there wasn't an hour to spare down in these parts. I traveled hard, and after crossing the upper Delaware, I heard rumors that just made my hair stand on end.
"I knowed that the Tories and Iroquois were on their way, and when I stopped at the house of a settler only twenty miles off, I found him packing up and getting ready to move to Stroudsburg.
"I tried to persuade him to go back with me and help the folks, but he couldn't see why he should desert his own family, even though there was scarcely any danger to 'em.
"He was the man, howsumever, who suggested to me that I had better fix up as an Injin, and he furnished the paint, feathers, and rig. He helped me to get inside of 'em, too, and when he was through, and showed me a glass, I acterally thought I was a Seneca warrior for the time, and, if I'd had a tomahawk, I'd been likely to have tomahawked the settler and his family.
"As it was, I jumped into the air and give out a ringin' whoop, and felt mighty savage and peart like; then I struck out for Wyoming, and I've done some tall traveling, I can tell you. Everybody that saw me took me for an Injin, and gave me a wide berth. Two men shot at me, and I was just beginning to think there might be less fun in playing Injin than appeared at first.
"Well," added the eccentric individual, "I got here too late to take part in the battle, but I'm ready to do all I can to help you out of your trouble, which looks powerful serious."
And the little band, as may well be imagined, were grateful beyond expression to find that what was first taken to be a dreaded enemy was after all a valuable friend.
CHAPTER XI
It caused Lieutenant Godfrey the deepest chagrin to reflect that, after his remarkable escapes of the day, he had been taken prisoner in this fashion.
He was in a crouching posture, watching the scene in front, when several Seneca warriors returning to camp discovered him, and before he could make an effective resistance, he was borne to the ground, disarmed, and made prisoner.
But chagrin was quickly lost in alarm, for there could be no doubt of the intentions of Queen Esther respecting all her captives.
It was characteristic of the youth that his first misgiving was concerning his father, who was but such a short distance behind him, and he expected every minute to see the hapless man brought in as his companion.
But as time passed, Fred gained hope for him, and, recalling his pledge, believed he would keep beyond danger.
Katharine Montour bent her gaze upon the youth, as he came in front of her escorted by several warriors, and then she broke into a chuckling laugh.
This extraordinary creature was once quite popular with civilized people, and she spoke English as well as the Seneca tongue.
"Ha, ha, ha," she added, "you're another Yankee, ain't you?"
Fred had no wish to deny the charge, but he thought best to hold his peace. If she were disposed to enter into a fair argument, he could maintain his own with her; but the relative situation of the two was that of the wolf and lamb in the fable, and, no matter what line he might take, or how skillfully he might try to conciliate her, she would only work herself into a still more furious passion.
He therefore did wisely in not making any reply, but with his hand at his side, and with a stolid, drooping, half-vacant gaze like that of the other prisoners, he looked mutely at her.
The attractive appearance of the young lieutenant, and his manly bearing when first brought before her, may have suggested to Queen Esther that a prisoner of more consideration than usual was at her disposal.
Her exultation, therefore, was the greater, because she would gain this additional means of ministering to her thirst for vengeance.
"You Yankee officer?" she asked, peering into his handsome face.
"I am a lieutenant in the Continental army," answered Fred.
"All the captains were killed," was the truthful declaration of the queen, "and more of you Yankees shall be killed; do you see these here?" she asked, making a sweep with her hand toward the captives. "All of them shall die by my hands – yes, by my hands. Do you hear?"
Fred heard, but he did not think it wise to take the negative of the question, and he continued to hold his peace.
While the Indians were looking on with that apparent indifference which the race can so well assume under the most trying circumstances, Queen Esther suddenly whipped out from the folds of her gaudy dress a scalp, which she flourished in front of the prisoners. Then, with many execrations, she began a weird song and dance up and down in front of them.
This shocking scene lasted but a few minutes, when other Indians came in with more prisoners, among whom Fred recognized several acquaintances. They looked sorrowfully at each other, but said nothing.
The lieutenant counted, and saw there were precisely eighteen, besides himself. It must have been that Queen Esther had stopped in this piece of woods, and, calling in a number of her Senecas, had sent them out to bring in all the captives they could.
She had now secured enough to satisfy her, and she started up the river with them.
The hapless ones walked in a straggling group together, while the Indians were on either hand in front, and the Queen at the rear, as if she wished to contemplate and enjoy the treat in prospect.
Whither they were going, Fred could only guess, but he was certain that it was to some spot where torture would be inflicted on the patriots.
The mixed company had progressed something like an eighth of a mile, when a sudden confusion occurred in the ranks, and those who looked around caught sight of a man dashing through the undergrowth with the speed of a frightened deer.
Queen Esther recognized the figure as that of the young lieutenant, and, with a shriek of rage, hurled her tomahawk, missing him only by a hair's breadth.
At the same moment she called upon her warriors to recapture him, and they dashed off with all speed, not needing the incentive of her command.
It may be said that in such daring breaks for life as that of Fred Godfrey, everything depends on the start. He made such a tremendous bound that he was several rods distant before his foes really understood what had taken place.
Another piece of extremely good fortune lay in the fact that the woods where this was done were quite dense, and in the approaching twilight the start gained by the fugitive actually placed him beyond their sight.
This by no means insured his escape, for his pursuers were too close on his heels, but it gave him an advantage, the importance of which cannot be overstated.
Fred, as you have been told, was fleet of foot, and he now did his utmost, but he could not hope to outrun those who were so close.
He had gone a short distance only, when he turned to the right, and threw himself down beside a fallen tree which lay across his path, and he was not a moment too soon.
The next instant, two warriors bounded over the log and vanished in the wood. As they were sure to suspect the trick that had been played, Fred did not stay where he was. He knew the Senecas would speedily return, and he could not elude such a search as they would be sure to make.
Crawling away from the friendly log, he hurried silently off in a crouching posture, and soon reached a point where he felt quite safe from detection, though he did not throw his caution aside.
As soon as he felt himself master of his movements he made his way back to the point where he had separated from his father; but, although he cautiously signaled to him, he received no response, and he concluded that he was still in hiding somewhere in the neighborhood, and was afraid to answer the calls, if, indeed, he heard them; or he had managed to cross the Susquehanna, and was searching for the rest of his family.
In either case it was a great relief to find he had not fallen into the hands of Queen Esther, who was certain to be doubly savage, now that she had lost the prisoner whom she valued the most.
"If those captives would only made a break," said Fred, to himself, "some would get off; but, as it is, they are like dumb brutes led to the slaughter, and all will perish miserably – Heaven help them!"
