THE SCOUTS OF THE VALLEY

by Joseph A. Altsheler

CHAPTER I. THE LONE CANOE

A light canoe of bark, containing a single human figure, moved swiftlyup one of the twin streams that form the Ohio. The water, clear anddeep, coming through rocky soil, babbled gently at the edges, where itlapped the land, but in the center the full current flowed steadily andwithout noise. 

The thin shadows of early dusk were falling, casting a pallid tint overthe world, a tint touched here and there with living fire from the sun, which was gone, though leaving burning embers behind. One glowing shaft, piercing straight through the heavy forest that clothed either bank, fell directly upon the figure in the boat, as a hidden light illuminatesa great picture, while the rest is left in shadow. It was no commonforest runner who sat in the middle of the red beam. Yet a boy, innothing but years, he swung the great paddle with an ease and vigor thatthe strongest man in the West might have envied. His rifle, with thestock carved beautifully, and the long, slender blue barrel of theborder, lay by his side. He could bring the paddle into the boat, grasp the rifle, and carry it to his shoulder with a single, continuousmovement. 

His most remarkable aspect, one that the casual observer even would havenoticed, was an extraordinary vitality. He created in the minds of thosewho saw him a feeling that he lived intensely every moment of his life. Born and-bred in the forest, he was essentially its child, a perfectphysical being, trained by the utmost hardship and danger, and withevery faculty, mental and physical, in complete coordination. It is onlyby a singular combination of time and place, and only once in millionsof chances, that Nature produces such a being. 

The canoe remained a few moments in the center of the red light, and itsoccupant, with a slight swaying motion of the paddle, held it steady inthe current, while he listened. Every feature stood out in the glow, thefirm chin, the straight strong nose, the blue eyes, and the thick yellowhair. The red blue, and yellow beads on his dress of beautifully tanneddeerskin flashed in the brilliant rays. He was the great picture offact, not of fancy, a human being animated by a living, dauntless soul. 

He gave the paddle a single sweep and shot from the light into theshadow. His canoe did not stop until it grazed the northern shore, wherebushes and overhanging boughs made a deep shadow. It would have takena keen eye now to have seen either the canoe or its occupant, andHenry Ware paddled slowly and without noise in the darkest heart of theshadow. 

The sunlight lingered a little longer in the center of the stream. Thenthe red changed to pink. The pink, in its turn, faded, and the wholesurface of the river was somber gray, flowing between two lines of blackforest. 

The coming of the darkness did not stop the boy. He swung a littlefarther out into the stream, where the bushes and hanging boughs wouldnot get in his way, and continued his course with some increase ofspeed. 

The great paddle swung swiftly through the water, and the length ofstroke was amazing, but the boy's breath did not come faster, and themuscles on his arms and shoulders rippled as if it were the play ofa child. Henry was in waters unknown to him. He had nothing more thanhearsay upon which to rely, and he used all the wilderness caution thathe had acquired through nature and training. He called into use everyfaculty of his perfect physical being. His trained eyes continuallypierced the darkness. At times, he stopped and listened with ears thatcould hear the footfall of the rabbit, but neither eye nor ear broughtreport of anything unusual. The river flowed with a soft, sighing sound. Now and then a wild creature stirred in the forest, and once a deercame down to the margin to drink, but this was the ordinary life of thewoods, and he passed it by. 

He went on, hour after hour. The river narrowed. The banks grew higherand rockier, and the water, deep and silvery under the moon, flowed ina somewhat swifter current. Henry gave a little stronger sweep to thepaddle, and the speed of the canoe was maintained. He still kept withinthe shadow of the northern bank. 

He noticed after a while that fleecy vapor was floating before the moon. The night seemed to be darkening, and a rising wind came out of thesouthwest. The touch of the air on, his face was damp. It was the tokenof rain, and he felt that it would not be delayed long. 

It was no part of his plan to be caught in a storm on the Monongahela. Besides the discomfort, heavy rain and wind might sink his frail canoe, and he looked for a refuge. The river was widening again, and the bankssank down until they were but little above the water. Presently he sawa place that he knew would be suitable, a stretch of thick bushes andweeds growing into the very edge of the water, and extending a hundredyards or more along the shore. 

He pushed his canoe far into the undergrowth, and then stopped it inshelter so close that, keen as his own eyes were, he could scarcely seethe main stream of the river. The water where he came to rest was notmore than a foot deep, but he remained in the canoe, half reclining andwrapping closely around himself and his rifle a beautiful blanket wovenof the tightest fiber. 

His position, with his head resting on the edge of the canoe and hisshoulder pressed against the side, was full of comfort to him, and heawaited calmly whatever might come. Here and there were little spacesamong the leaves overhead, and through them he saw a moon, now almosthidden by thick and rolling vapors, and a sky that had grown dark andsomber. The last timid star had ceased to twinkle, and the rising windwas wet and cold. He was glad of the blanket, and, skilled forest runnerthat he was, he never traveled without it. Henry remained perfectlystill. The light canoe did not move beneath his weight the fractionof an inch. His upturned eyes saw the little cubes of sky that showedthrough the leaves grow darker and darker. The bushes about him werenow bending before the wind, which blew steadily from the south, andpresently drops of rain began to fall lightly on the water. 

The boy, alone in the midst of all that vast wilderness, surrounded bydanger in its most cruel forms, and with a black midnight sky above him, felt neither fear nor awe. Being what nature and circumstance had madehim, he was conscious, instead, of a deep sense of peace and comfort. He was at ease, in a nest for the night, and there was only the remotestpossibility that the prying eye of an enemy would see him. The leavesdirectly over his head were so thick that they formed a canopy, and, ashe heard the drops fall upon them, it was like the rain on a roof, thatsoothes the one beneath its shelter. 

Distant lightning flared once or twice, and low thunder rolled along thesouthern horizon, but both soon ceased, and then a rain, not hard, butcold and persistent, began to fall, coming straight down. Henry saw thatit might last all night, but he merely eased himself a little in thecanoe, drew the edges of the blanket around his chin, and let hiseyelids droop. 

The rain was now seeping through the leafy canopy of green, but he didnot care. It could not penetrate the close fiber of the blanket, and thefur cap drawn far down on his head met the blanket. Only his face wasuncovered, and when a cold drop fell upon it, it was to him, hardened byforest life, cool and pleasant to the touch. 

Although the eyelids still drooped, he did not yet feel the tendency tosleep. It was merely a deep, luxurious rest, with the body completelyrelaxed, but with the senses alert. The wind ceased to blow, and therain came down straight with an even beat that was not unmusical. Noother sound was heard in the forest, as the ripple of the river at theedges was merged into it. Henry began to feel the desire for sleep byand by, and, laying the paddle across the boat in such a way that itsheltered his face, he closed his eyes. In five minutes he would havebeen sleeping as soundly as a man in a warm bed under a roof, but witha quick motion he suddenly put the paddle aside and raised himself alittle in the canoe, while one hand slipped down under the folds of theblanket to the hammer of his rifle. 

His ear had told him in time that there was a new sound on the river. Heheard it faintly above the even beat of the rain, a soft sound, long andsighing, but regular. He listened, and then he knew it. It was made byoars, many of them swung in unison, keeping admirable time. 

Henry did not yet feel fear, although it must be a long boat full ofIndian warriors, as it was not likely, that anybody else would be abroadupon these waters at such a time. He made no attempt to move. Where helay it was black as the darkest cave, and his cool judgment told himthat there was no need of flight. 

The regular rhythmic beat of the oars came nearer, and presently as helooked through the covert of leaves the dusky outline of a great warcanoe came into view. It contained at least twenty warriors, of whattribe he could not tell, but they were wet, and they looked cold andmiserable. Soon they were opposite him, and he saw the outline of everyfigure. Scalp locks drooped in the rain, and he knew that the warriors, hardy as they might be, were suffering. 

Henry expected to see the long boat pass on, but it was turned towarda shelving bank fifty or sixty yards below, and they beached it there. Then all sprang out, drew it up on the land, and, after turning it over, propped it up at an angle. When this was done they sat under it in aclose group, sheltered from the rain. They were using their great canoeas a roof, after the habit of Shawnees and Wyandots. 

The boy watched them for a long time through one of the little openingsin the bushes, and he believed that they would remain as they were allnight, but presently he saw a movement among them, and a little flashof light. He understood it. They were trying to kindle a fire-with flintand steel, under the shelter of the boat. He continued to watch them'lazily and without alarm. 

Their fire, if they succeeded in making it, would cast no light upon himin the dense covert, but they would be outlined against the flame, andhe could see them better, well enough, perhaps, to tell to what tribethey belonged. 

He watched under his lowered eyelids while the warriors, gathered ina close group to make a shelter from stray puffs of wind, strove withflint and steel. Sparks sprang up and went out, but Henry at last saw alittle blaze rise and cling to life. Then, fed with tinder and bark, itgrew under the roof made by the boat until it was ruddy and strong. Theboat was tilted farther back, and the fire, continuing to grow, crackledcheerfully, while the flames leaped higher. 

By a curious transfer of the senses, Henry, as he lay in the thickblackness felt the influence of the fire, also. Its warmth was upon hisface, and it was pleasing to see the red and yellow light victoriousagainst the sodden background of the rain and dripping forest. Thefigures of the warriors passed and repassed before the fire, and the boyin the boat moved suddenly. His body was not shifted more than an inch, but his surprise was great. 

A warrior stood between him and the fire, outlined perfectly againstthe red light. It was a splendid figure, young, much beyond the averageheight, the erect and noble head crowned with the defiant scalplock, thestrong, slightly curved nose and the massive chin cut as clearly as ifthey had been carved in copper. The man who had laid aside a wet blanketwas bare now to the waist, and Henry could see the powerful muscles playon chest and shoulders as he moved. 

The boy knew him. It was Timmendiquas, the great White Lightning of theWyandots, the youngest, but the boldest and ablest of all the Westernchiefs. Henry's pulses leaped a little at the sight of his old foe andalmost friend. As always, he felt admiration at the sight of theyoung chief. It was not likely that he would ever behold such anothermagnificent specimen of savage manhood. 

The presence of Timmendiquas so far east was also full of significance. The great fleet under Adam Colfax, and with Henry and his comrades inthe van, had reached Pittsburgh at last. Thence the arms, ammunition, and other supplies were started on the overland journey for the Americanarmy, but the five lingered before beginning the return to Kentucky. A rumor came that the Indian alliance was spreading along the entirefrontier, both west and north. It was said that Timmendiquas, stung tofiery energy by his defeats, was coming east to form a league with theIroquois, the famous Six Nations. These warlike tribes were friendlywith the Wyandots, and the league would be a formidable danger to theColonies, the full strength of which was absorbed already in the greatwar. 

But the report was a new call of battle to Henry, Shif'less Sol, and theothers. The return to Kentucky was postponed. They could be of greaterservice here, and they plunged into the great woods to the north and, east to see what might be stirring among the warriors. 

Now Henry, as he looked at Timmendiquas, knew that report had toldthe truth. The great chief would not be on the fringe of the Iroquoiscountry, if he did not have such a plan, and he had the energy andability to carry it through. Henry shuddered at the thought of thetomahawk flashing along every mile of a frontier so vast, and defendedso thinly. He was glad in every fiber that he and his comrades hadremained to hang upon the Indian hordes, and be heralds of theirmarches. In the forest a warning usually meant the saving of life. 

The rain ceased after a while, although water dripped from the treeseverywhere. But the big fire made an area of dry earth about it, and thewarriors replaced the long boat in the water. Then all but four or fiveof them lay beside the coals and went to sleep. Timmendiquas was one ofthose who remained awake, and Henry saw that he was in deep thought. Hewalked back and forth much like a white man, and now and then he foldedhis hands behind his back, looking toward the earth, but not seeing it. Henry could guess what was in his mind. He would draw forth the fullpower of the Six Nations, league them with the Indians of the greatvalley, and hurl them all in one mass upon the frontier. He was planningnow the means to the end. 

The chief, in his little walks back and forth, came close to the edge ofthe bushes in which Henry lay, It was not at all probable that hewould conclude to search among them, but some accident, a chance, mighthappen, and Henry began to feel a little alarm. Certainly, the comingof the day would make his refuge insecure, and he resolved to slip awaywhile it was yet light. 

The boy rose a little in the boat, slowly and with the utmost caution, because the slightest sound out of the common might arouse Timmendiquasto the knowledge of a hostile presence. The canoe must make no plash inthe water. Gradually he unwrapped the blanket and tied it in a foldedsquare at his back. Then he took thought a few moments. The forest wasso silent now that he did not believe he could push the canoe throughthe bushes without being heard. He would leave it there for use anotherday and go on foot through the woods to his comrades. 

Slowly he put one foot down the side until it rested on the bottom, andthen he remained still. The chief had paused in his restless walk backand forth. Could it be possible that he had heard so slight a sound asthat of a human foot sinking softly into the water? Henry waited withhis rifle ready. If necessary he would fire, and then dart away amongthe bushes. 

Five or six intense moments passed, and the chief resumed his restlesspacing. If he had heard, he had passed it by as nothing, and Henryraised the other foot out of the canoe. He was as delicate in hismovement as a surgeon mending the human eye, and he had full cause, asnot eye alone, but life as well, depended upon his success. Both feetnow rested upon the muddy bottom, and he stood there clear of the boat. 

The chief did not stop again, and as the fire had burned higher, hisfeatures were disclosed more plainly in his restless walk back andforth before the flames. Henry took a final look at the lofty features, contracted now into a frown, then began to wade among the bushes, pushing his way softly. This was the most delicate and difficult task ofall. The water must not be allowed to plash around him nor the bushesto rustle as he passed. Forward he went a yard, then two, five, ten, andhis feet were about to rest upon solid earth, when a stick submergedin the mud broke under his moccasin with a snap singularly loud in thesilence of the night. 

Henry sprang at once upon dry land, whence he cast back a single swiftglance. He saw the chief standing rigid and gazing in the direction fromwhich the sound had come. Other warriors were just behind him, followinghis look, aware that there was an unexpected presence in the forest, andresolved to know its nature. 

Henry ran northward. So confident was he in his powers and theprotecting darkness of the night that he sent back a sharp cry, piercingand defiant, a cry of a quality that could come only from a whitethroat. The warriors would know it, and he intended for them to know it. Then, holding his rifle almost parallel with his body, he darted swiftlyaway through the black spaces of the forest. But an answering cry cameto his, the Indian yell taking up his challenge, and saying that thenight would not check pursuit. 

Henry maintained his swift pace for a long time, choosing the more openplaces that he might make no noise among the bushes and leaves. Now andthen water dripped in his face, and his moccasins were wet from the longgrass, but his body was warm and dry, and he felt little weariness. Theclouds were now all gone, and the stars sprang out, dancing in a sky ofdusky blue. Trained eyes could see far in the forest despite the night, and Henry felt that he must be wary. He recalled the skill and tenacityof Timmendiquas. A fugitive could scarcely be trailed in the darkness, but the great chief would spread out his forces like a fan and follow. 

He had been running perhaps three hours when he concluded to stop in athicket, where he lay down on the damp grass, and rested with his headunder his arm. 

His breath had been coming a little faster, but his heart now resumedits regular beat. Then he heard a soft sound, that of footsteps. Hethought at first that some wild animal was prowling near, but secondthought convinced him that human beings had come. Gazing through thethicket, he saw an Indian warrior walking among the trees, lookingsearchingly about him as if he were a scout. Another, coming from adifferent direction, approached him, and Henry felt sure that they wereof the party of Timmendiquas. They had followed him in some manner, perhaps by chance, and it behooved Mm now to lie close. 

A third warrior joined them and they began to examine the ground. Henryrealized that it was much lighter. Keen eyes under such a starry skycould see much, and they might strike his trail. The fear quickly becamefact. One of the warriors, uttering a short cry, raised his head andbeckoned to the others. He had seen broken twigs or trampled grass, andHenry, knowing that it was no time to hesitate, sprang from his covert. Two of the warriors caught a glimpse of his dusky figure and fired, thebullets cutting the leaves close to his head, but Henry ran so fast thathe was lost to view in an instant. 

The boy was conscious that his position contained many elements ofdanger. He was about to have another example of the tenacity andresource of the great young chief of the Wyandots, and he felt a certainanger. He, did not wish to be disturbed in his plans, he wished torejoin his comrades and move farther east toward the chosen lands ofthe Six Nations; instead, he must spend precious moments running for hislife. 

Henry did not now flee toward the camp of his friends. He was too wise, too unselfish, to bring a horde down upon them, and he curved away in acourse that would take him to the south of them. He glanced up and sawthat the heavens were lightening yet more. A thin gray color like a mistwas appearing in the east. It was the herald of day, and now the Indianswould be able to find his trail. But Henry was not afraid. His angerover the loss of time quickly passed, and he ran swiftly on, the fall ofhis moccasins making scarcely any noise as he passed. 

It was no unusual incident. Thousands of such pursuits occurred inthe border life of our country, and were lost to the chronicler. Forgenerations they were almost a part of the daily life of the frontier, but the present, while not out of the common in itself, had, uncommonphases. It was the most splendid type of white life in all thewilderness that fled, and the finest type of red life that followed. 

It was impossible for Henry to feel anger or hate toward Timmendiquas. In his place he would have done what he was doing. It was hard to giveup these great woods and beautiful lakes and rivers, and the wild lifethat wild men lived and loved. There was so much chivalry in the boy'snature that he could think of all these things while he fled to escapethe tomahawk or the stake. 

Up came the sun. The gray light turned to silver, and then to red andblazing gold. A long, swelling note, the triumphant cry of the pursuingwarriors, rose behind him. Henry turned his head for one look. He sawa group of them poised for a moment on the crest of a low hill andoutlined against the broad flame in the east. He saw their scalp locks, the rifles in their hands, and their bare chests shining bronze in theglow. Once more he sent back his defiant cry, now in answer to theirs, and then, calling upon his reserves of strength and endurance, fled witha speed that none of the warriors had ever seen surpassed. 

Henry's flight lasted all that day, and he used every device to evadethe pursuit, swinging by vines, walking along fallen logs, and wading inbrooks. He did not see the warriors again, but instinct warned him thatthey were yet following. At long intervals he would rest for a quarterof an hour or so among the bushes, and at noon he ate a little of thevenison that he always carried. Three hours later he came to the riveragain, and swimming it he turned on his course, but kept to the southernside. When the twilight was falling once more he sat still in densecovert for a long time. He neither saw nor heard a sign of humanpresence, and he was sure now that the pursuit had failed. Without aneffort he dismissed it from his mind, ate a little more of the venison, and made his bed for the night. 

The whole day had been bright, with a light wind blowing, and the forestwas dry once more. As far as Henry could see it circled away on everyside, a solid dark green, the leaves of oak and beech, maple and elmmaking a soft, sighing sound as they waved gently in the wind. It toldHenry of nothing but peace. He had eluded the pursuit, hence it was nomore. This was a great, friendly forest, ready to shelter him, to soothehim, and to receive him into its arms for peaceful sleep. 

He found a place among thick trees where the leaves of last year laydeep upon the ground. He drew up enough of them for a soft bed, becausenow and for the moment he was a forest sybarite. He was wise enough totake his ease when he found it, knowing that it would pay his body torelax. 

He lay down upon the leaves, placed the rifle by his side, and spreadthe blanket over himself and the weapon. The twilight was gone, and thenight, dark and without stars, as he wished to see it, rolled up, foldafter fold, covering and hiding everything. He looked a little while ata breadth of inky sky showing through the leaves, and then, free fromtrouble or fear, he fell asleep. 

CHAPTER II. THE MYSTERIOUS HAND

Henry slept until a rosy light, filtering through the leaves, fell uponhis face. Then he sprang up, folded the blanket once more upon his back, and looked about him. Nothing had come in the night to disturb him, no enemy was near, and the morning sun was bright and beautiful. Thevenison was exhausted, but he bathed his face in the brook and resumedhis journey, traveling with a long, swift stride that carried him atgreat speed. 

The boy was making for a definite point, one that he knew well, althoughnearly all the rest of this wilderness was strange to him. The countryhere was rougher than it usually is in the great valley to the west, andas he advanced it became yet more broken, range after range of steep, stony hills, with fertile but narrow little valleys between. He wenton without hesitation for at least two hours, and then stopping under agreat oak he uttered a long, whining cry, much like the howl of a wolf. 

It was not a loud note, but it was singularly penetrating, carrying farthrough the forest. A sound like an echo came back, but Henry knew thatinstead of an echo it was a reply to his own signal. Then he advancedboldly and swiftly and came to the edge of a snug little valley set deepamong rocks and trees like a bowl. He stopped behind the great trunk ofa beech, and looked into the valley with a smile of approval. 

Four human figures were seated around a fire of smoldering coals thatgave forth no smoke. They appeared to be absorbed in some very pleasanttask, and a faint odor that came to Henry's nostrils filled him withagreeable anticipations. He stepped forward boldly and called:

"Jim, save that piece for me!"

Long Jim Hart halted in mid-air the large slice of venison that he hadtoasted on a stick. Paul Cotter sprang joyfully to his feet, Silent TomRoss merely looked up, but Shif'less Sol said:

"Thought Henry would be here in time for breakfast. "

Henry walked down in the valley, and the shiftless one regarded himkeenly. 

"I should judge, Henry Ware, that you've been hevin' a foot race, " hedrawled. 

"And why do you think that?" asked Henry. 

"I kin see where the briars hev been rakin' across your leggins. Reckonthat wouldn't happen, 'less you was in a pow'ful hurry. "

"You're right, " said Henry. "Now, Jim, you've been holding that venisonin the air long enough. Give it to me, and after I've eaten it I'll tellyou all that I've been doing, and all that's been done to me. "

Long Jim handed him the slice. Henry took a comfortable seat in thecircle before the coals, and ate with all the appetite of a powerfulhuman creature whose food had been more than scanty for at least twodays. 

"Take another piece, " said Long Jim, observing him with approval. "Taketwo pieces, take three, take the whole deer. I always like to see ahungry man eat. It gives him sech satisfaction that I git a kind uvtaste uv it myself. "

Henry did not offer a word 'of explanation until his breakfast was over. Then lie leaned back, sighing twice with deep content, and said:

"Boys, I've got a lot to tell. "

Shif'less Sol moved into an easier position on the leaves. 

"I guess it has somethin' to do with them scratches on your leggins. "

"It has, " continued Henry with emphasis, "and I want to say to you boysthat I've seen Timmendiquas, the great White Lightning of the Wyandots. "

"Timmendiquas!" exclaimed the others together. 

"No less a man than he, " resumed Henry. "I've looked upon his very face, I've seen him in camp with warriors, and I've had the honor of beingpursued by him and his men more hours than I can tell. That's why yousee those briar scratches on my leggins, Sol. "

"Then we cannot doubt that he is here to stir the Six Nations tocontinued war, " said Paul Cotter, "and he will succeed. He is a mightychief, and his fire and eloquence will make them take up the hatchet. I'm glad that we've come. We delayed a league once between the Shawneesand the Miamis; I don't think we can stop this one, but we may get somepeople out of the way before the blow falls. "

"Who are these Six Nations, whose name sounds so pow'ful big up here?"asked Long Jim. 

"Their name is as big as it sounds, " replied Henry. "They are theOnondagas, the Mohawks, Oneidas, Senecas, Cayugas, and Tuscaroras. Theyused to be the Five Nations, but the Tuscaroras came up from the southand fought against them so bravely that they were adopted into theleague, as a new and friendly tribe. The Onondagas, so I've heard, formed the league a long, long time ago, and their head chief is thegrand sachem or high priest of them all, but the head chief of theMohawks is the leading war chief. "

"I've heard, " said Paul, "that the Wyandots are kinsmen of allthese tribes, and on that account they will listen with all the morefriendliness to Timmendiquas. "

"Seems to me, " said Tom Ross, "that we've got a most tre-men-je-ous bigjob ahead. "

"Then, " said Henry, "we must make a most tremendous big effort. "

"That's so, " agreed all. 

After that they spoke little. The last coals were covered up, and theremainder of the food was put in their pouches. Then they sat onthe leaves, and every one meditated until such time as he might havesomething worth saying. Henry's thoughts traveled on a wide course, butthey always came back to one point. They had heard much at Pittsburgh ofa famous Mohawk chief called Thayendanegea, but most often known tothe Americans as Brant. He was young, able, and filled with intenseanimosity against the white people, who encroached, every year, more andmore upon the Indian hunting grounds. His was a soul full kin to that ofTimmendiquas, and if the two met it meant a great council and a greaterendeavor for the undoing of the white man. What more likely than thatthey intended to meet?

"All of you have heard of Thayendanegea, the Mohawk?" said Henry. 

They nodded. 

"It's my opinion that Timmendiquas is on the way to meet him. I rememberhearing a hunter say at Pittsburgh that about a hundred miles to theeast of this point was a Long House or Council House of the Six Nations. Timmendiquas is sure to go there, and we must go, too. We must find outwhere they intend to strike. What do you say?"

"We go there!" exclaimed four voices together. 

Seldom has a council of war been followed by action so promptly. 

As Henry spoke the last word he rose, and the others rose with him. Saying no more, he led toward the east, and the others followed him, also saying no more. Separately every one of them was strong, brave, andresourceful, but when the five were together they felt that they had theskill and strength of twenty. The long rest at Pittsburgh had restoredthem after the dangers and hardship of their great voyage from NewOrleans. 

They carried in horn and pouch ample supplies of powder and bullet, andthey did not fear any task. 

Their journey continued through hilly country, clothed in heavy forest, but often without undergrowth. They avoided the open spaces, preferringto be seen of men, who were sure to be red men, as little as possible. Their caution was well taken. They saw Indian signs, once a feather thathad fallen from a scalp lock, once footprints, and once the bone of adeer recently thrown away by him who had eaten the meat from it. Thecountry seemed to be as wild as that of Kentucky. Small settlements, sothey had heard, were scattered at great distances through the forest, but they saw none. There was no cabin smoke, no trail of the plow, justthe woods and the hills and the clear streams. Buffalo had never reachedthis region, but deer were abundant, and they risked a shot to replenishtheir supplies. 

They camped the second night of their march on a little peninsula at theconfluence of two creeks, with the deep woods everywhere. Henry judgedthat they were well within the western range of the Six Nations, andthey cooked their deer meat over a smothered fire, nothing more thana few coals among the leaves. When supper was over they arranged softplaces for themselves and their blankets, all except Long Jim, whoseturn it was to scout among the woods for a possible foe. 

"Don't be gone long, Jim, " said Henry as he composed himself in acomfortable position. "A circle of a half mile about us will do. "

"I'll not be gone more'n an hour, " said Long Jim, picking up his rifleconfidently, and flitting away among the woods. 

"Not likely he'll see anything, " said Shif'less Sol, "but I'd shorelylike to know what White Lightning is about. He must be terrible stirredup by them beatin's he got down on the Ohio, an' they say that Mohawk, Thayendanegea is a whoppin' big chief, too. They'll shorely make a heapof trouble. "

"But both of them are far from here just now, " said Henry, "and we won'tbother about either. "

He was lying on some leaves at the foot of a tree with his arm underhis head and his blanket over his body. He had a remarkable capacity fordismissing trouble or apprehension, and just then he was enjoying greatphysical and mental peace. He looked through half closed eyes at hiscomrades, who also were enjoying repose, and his fancy could reproduceLong Jim in the forest, slipping from tree to tree and bush to bush, andfinding no menace. 

"Feels good, doesn't it, Henry?" said the shiftless one. "I like aclean, bold country like this. No more plowin' around in swamps for me. "

"Yes, " said Henry sleepily, "it's a good country. "

The hour slipped smoothly by, and Paul said:

"Time for Long Jim to be back. "

"Jim don't do things by halves, " said the shiftless one. "Guess he'sbeatin' up every squar' inch o' the bushes. He'll be here soon. "

A quarter of an hour passed, and Long Jim did not return; a half hour, and no sign of him. Henry cast off the blanket and stood up. The nightwas not very dark and he could see some distance, but he did not seetheir comrade. 

"I wonder why he's so slow, " he said with a faint trace of anxiety. 

"He'll be 'long directly, " said Tom Ross with confidence. 

Another quarter of an hour, and no Long Jim. Henry sent forth the lowpenetrating cry of the wolf that they used so often as a signal. 

"He cannot fail to hear that, " he said, "and he'll answer. "

No answer came. The four looked at one another in alarm. Long Jim hadbeen gone nearly two hours, and he was long overdue. His failure toreply to the signal indicated either that something ominous had happenedor that--he had gone much farther than they meant for him to go. 

The others had risen to their feet, also, and they stood a little whilein silence. 

"What do you think it means?" asked Paul. 

"It must be all right, " said Shif'less Sol. "Mebbe Jim has lost thecamp. "

Henry shook his head. 

"It isn't that, " he said. "Jim is too good a woodsman for such amistake. I don't want to look on the black side, boys, but I thinksomething has happened to Jim. "

"Suppose you an' me go an' look for him, " said Shif'less Sol, "whilePaul and Tom stay here an' keep house. "

"We'd better do it, " said Henry. "Come, Sol. "

The two, rifles in the hollows of their arms, disappeared in thedarkness, while Tom and Paul withdrew into the deepest shadow of thetrees and waited. 

Henry and the shiftless one pursued an anxious quest, going about thecamp in a great circle and then in another yet greater. They did notfind Jim, and the dusk was so great that they saw no evidences of histrail. Long Jim had disappeared as completely as if he had left theearth for another planet. When they felt that they must abandon thesearch for the time, Henry and Shif'less Sol looked at each other in adismay that the dusk could not hide. 

"Mebbe be saw some kind uv a sign, an' has followed it, " said theshiftless one hopefully. "If anything looked mysterious an' troublesome, Jim would want to hunt it down. "

"I hope so, " said Henry, "but we've got to go back to the camp now andreport failure. Perhaps he'll show up to-morrow, but I don't like it, Sol, I don't like it!"

"No more do I, " said Shif'less Sol. "'Tain't like Jim not to come back, ef he could. Mebbe he'll drop in afore day, anyhow. "

They returned to the camp, and two inquiring figures rose up out of thedarkness. 

"You ain't seen him?" said Tom, noting that but two figures hadreturned. 

"Not a trace, " replied Henry. "It's a singular thing. "

The four talked together a little while, and they were far fromcheerful. Then three sought sleep, while Henry stayed on watch, sittingwith his back against a tree and his rifle on his knees. All the peaceand content that he had felt earlier in the evening were gone. He wasoppressed by a sense of danger, mysterious and powerful. It did not seempossible that Long Jim could have gone away in such a noiseless manner, leaving no trace behind. But it was true. 

He watched with both ear and eye as much for Long Jim as for an enemy. He was still hopeful that he would see the long, thin figure comingamong the bushes, and then hear the old pleasant drawl. But he did notsee the figure, nor did he hear the drawl. 

Time passed with the usual slow step when one watches. Paul, Sol, andTom were asleep, but Henry was never wider awake in his life. He triedto put away the feeling of mystery and danger. He assured himself thatLong Jim would soon come, delayed by some trail that he had sought tosolve. Nothing could have happened to a man so brave and skillful. Hisnerves must be growing weak when he allowed himself to be troubled somuch by a delayed return. 

But the new hours came, one by one, and Long Jim came with none of them. The night remained fairly light, with a good moon, but the light that itthrew over the forest was gray and uncanny. Henry's feeling of mysteryand danger deepened. Once he thought he heard a rustling in the thicketand, finger on the trigger of his rifle, he stole among the bushes todiscover what caused it. He found nothing and, returning to his lonelywatch, saw that Paul, Sol, and Tom were still sleeping soundly. ButHenry was annoyed greatly by the noise, and yet more by his failure totrace its origin. After an hour's watching he looked a second time. Theresult was once more in vain, and he resumed his seat upon the leaves, with his back reclining against an oak. Here, despite the fact that thenight was growing darker, nothing within range of a rifle shot couldescape his eyes. 

Nothing stirred. The noise did not come a second time from the thicket. The very silence was oppressive. There was no wind, not even a straypuff, and the bushes never rustled. Henry longed for a noise of somekind to break that terrible, oppressive silence. What he really wishedto hear was the soft crunch of Long Jim's moccasins on the grass andleaves. 

The night passed, the day came, and Henry awakened his comrades. LongJim was still missing and their alarm was justified. Whatever trail liemight have struck, he would have returned in the night unless somethinghad happened to him. Henry had vague theories, but nothing definite, andhe kept them to himself. Yet they must make a change in their plans. Togo on and leave Long Jim to whatever fate might be his was unthinkable. No task could interfere with the duty of the five to one another. 

"We are in one of the most dangerous of all the Indian countries, " saidHenry. "We are on the fringe of the region over which the Six Nationsroam, and we know that Timmendiquas and a band of the Wyandots are herealso. Perhaps Miamis and Shawnees have come, too. "

"We've got to find Long Jim, " said Silent Tom briefly. 

They went about their task in five minutes. Breakfast consisted of coldvenison and a drink from a brook. Then they began to search the forest. They felt sure that such woodsmen as they, with the daylight to helpthem, would find some trace of Long Jim, but they saw none at all, although they constantly widened their circle, and again tried all theirsignals. Half the forenoon passed in the vain search, and then they helda council. 

"I think we'd better scatter, " said Shif'less Sol, "an' meet here againwhen the sun marks noon. "

It was agreed, and they took careful note of the place, a little hillcrowned with a thick cluster of black oaks, a landmark easy to remember. Henry turned toward the south, and the forest was so dense that in twominutes all his comrades were lost to sight. He went several miles, and his search was most rigid. He was amazed to find that the sense ofmystery and danger that he attributed to the darkness of the night didnot disappear wholly in the bright daylight. His spirit, usually sooptimistic, was oppressed by it, and he had no belief that they wouldfind Long Jim. 

At the set time he returned to the little hill crowned with the blackoaks, and as he approached it from one side he saw Shif'less Sol comingfrom another. The shiftless one walked despondently. His gait was looseand shambling-a rare thing with him, and Henry knew that he, too, had failed. He realized now that he had not expected anything else. Shif'less Sol shook his head, sat down on a root and said nothing. Henrysat down, also, and the two exchanged a look of discouragement. 

"The others will be here directly, " said Henry, "and perhaps Long Jimwill be with one of them. "

But in his heart he knew that it would not be so, and the shiftless oneknew that he had no confidence in his own words. 

"If not, " said Henry, resolved to see the better side, "we'll stayanyhow until we find him. We can't spare good old Long Jim. "

Shif'less Sol did not reply, nor did Henry speak again, until lie sawthe bushes moving slightly three or four hundred yards away. 

"There comes Tom, " he said, after a single comprehensive glance, "andhe's alone. "

Tom Ross was also a dejected figure. He looked at the two on the hill, and, seeing that the man for whom they were searching was not with them, became more dejected than before. 

"Paul's our last chance, " he said, as he joined them. "He's gen'rally alucky boy, an' mebbe it will be so with him to-day. "

"I hope so, " said Henry fervently. "He ought to be along in a fewminutes. "

They waited patiently, although they really had no belief that Paulwould bring in the missing man, but Paul was late. The noon hour waswell past. Henry took a glance at the sun. Noon was gone at least a halfhour, and he stirred uneasily. 

"Paul couldn't get lost in broad daylight, " he said. 

"No, " said Shif'less Sol, "he couldn't get lost!"

Henry noticed his emphasis on the word "lost, " and a sudden fear sprangup in his heart. Some power had taken away Long Jim; could the samepower have seized Paul? It was a premonition, and he paled under hisbrown, turning away lest the others see his face. All three now examinedthe whole circle of the horizon for a sight of moving bushes that wouldtell of the boy's coming. 

The forest told nothing. The sun blazed brightly over everything, andPaul, like Long Jim, did not come. He was an hour past due, and thethree, oppressed already by Long jim's disappearance, were convincedthat he would not return. But they gave him a half hour longer. ThenHenry said:

"We must hunt for him, but we must not separate. Whatever happens wethree must stay together. "

"I'm not hankerin' to roam 'roun jest now all by myself, " said theshiftless one, with an uneasy laugh. 

The three hunted all that afternoon for Paul. Once they saw trace offootsteps, apparently his, in some soft earth, but they were quickly, lost on hard ground, and after that there was nothing. They stoppedshortly before sunset at the edge of a narrow but deep creek. 

"What do you think of it, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol. 

"I don't know what to think, " replied the youth, "but it seems to methat whatever took away Jim has taken away Paul, also. "

"Looks like it, " said Sol, "an' I guess it follers that we're in thesame kind o' danger. "

"We three of us could put up a good fight, " said Henry, "and I proposethat we don't go back to that camp, but spend the night here. "

"Yes, an' watch good, " said Tom Ross. 

Their new camp was made quickly in silence, merely the grass under thelow boughs of a tree. Their supper was a little venison, and then theywatched the coming of the darkness. It was a heavy hour for the three. Long Jim was gone, and then Paul-Paul, the youngest, and, in a way, thepet of the little band. 

"Ef we could only know how it happened, " whispered Shif'less Sol, "thenwe might rise up an' fight the danger an' git Paul an' Jim back. But youcan't shoot at somethin' you don't see or hear. In all them fights o'ours, on the Ohio an' Mississippi we knowed what wuz ag'inst us, buthere we don't know nothin'. "

"It is true, Sol, " sighed Henry. "We were making such big plans, too, and before we can even start our force is cut nearly in half. To-morrowwe'll begin the hunt again. We'll never desert Paul and Jim, so long aswe don't know they're dead. "

"It's my watch, " said Tom. "You two sleep. We've got to keep ourstrength. "

Henry and the shiftless one acquiesced, and seeking the softest spotsunder the tree sat down. Tom Ross took his place about ten feet in frontof them, sitting on the ground, with his hands clasped around his knees, and his rifle resting on his arm. Henry watched him idly for a littlewhile, thinking all the time of his lost comrades. The night promised tobe dark, a good thing for them, as the need of hiding was too evident. 

Shif'less Sol soon fell asleep, as Henry, only three feet away, knew byhis soft and regular breathing, but the boy himself was still wide-eyed. 

The darkness seemed to sink down like a great blanket dropping slowly, and the area of Henry's vision narrowed to a small circle. Within thisarea the distinctive object was the figure of Tom Ross, sitting withhis rifle across his knees. Tom had an infinite capacity for immobility. Henry had never seen another man, not even an Indian, who could remainso long in one position contented and happy. He believed that the silentone could sit as he was all night. 

His surmise about Tom began to have a kind of fascination for him. Wouldhe remain absolutely still? He would certainly shift an arm or a leg. Henry's interest in the question kept him awake. He turned silentlyon the other side, but, no matter how intently he studied the sittingfigure of his comrade, he could not see it stir. He did not know howlong he had been awake, trying thus to decide a question that should beof no importance at such a time. Although unable to sleep, he fell intoa dreamy condition, and continued vaguely to watch the rigid and silentsentinel. 

He suddenly saw Tom stir, and he came from his state of languor. Theexciting question was solved at last. The man would not sit all nightabsolutely immovable. There could be no doubt of the fact that he hadraised an arm, and that his figure had straightened. Then he stoodup, full height, remained motionless for perhaps ten seconds, and thensuddenly glided away among the bushes. 

Henry knew what this meant. Tom had heard something moving in thethickets, and, like a good sentinel, he had gone to investigate. Arabbit, doubtless, or perhaps a sneaking raccoon. Henry rose to asitting position, and drew his own rifle across his knees. He wouldwatch while Tom was gone, and then lie would sink quietly back, notletting his comrade know that lie had taken his place. 

The faintest of winds began to stir among the thickets. Light cloudsdrifted before the moon. Henry, sitting with his rifle across his knees, and Shif'less Sol, asleep in the shadows, were invisible, but Henry sawbeyond the circle of darkness that enveloped them into the grayish lightthat fell over the bushes. He marked the particular point at which heexpected Tom Ross to appear, a slight opening that held out invitationfor the passage of a man. 

He waited a long time, ten minutes, twenty, a half hour, and thesentinel did not return. Henry came abruptly out of his dreamy state. He felt with all the terrible thrill of certainty that what happened toLong Jim and Paul had happened also to Silent Tom Ross. He stood erect, a tense, tall figure, alarmed, but not afraid. His eyes searched thethickets, but saw nothing. The slight movement of the bushes was made bythe wind, and no other sound reached his ears. 

But he might be mistaken after all! The most convincing premonitionswere sometimes wrong! He would give Tom ten minutes more, and he sankdown in a crouching position, where he would offer the least target forthe eye. 

The appointed time passed, and neither sight nor sound revealed any signof Tom Ross. Then Henry awakened Shif'less Sol, and whispered to him allthat he had seen. 

"Whatever took Jim and Paul has took him, " whispered the shiftless oneat once. 

Henry nodded. 

"An' we're bound to look for him right now, " continued Shif'less Sol. 

"Yes, " said Henry, "but we must stay together. If we follow the others, Sol, we must follow 'em together. "

"It would be safer, " said Sol. "I've an idee that we won't find Tom, an'I want to tell you, Henry, this thing is gittin' on my nerves. "

It was certainly on Henry's, also, but without reply he led the way intothe bushes, and they sought long and well for Silent Tom, keeping at thesame time a thorough watch for any danger that might molest themselves. But no danger showed, nor did they find Tom or his trail. He, too, had vanished into nothingness, and Henry and Sol, despite their mentalstrength, felt cold shivers. They came back at last, far toward morning, to the bank of the creek. It was here as elsewhere a narrow but deepstream flowing between banks so densely wooded that they were almostlike walls. 

"It will be daylight soon, " said Shif'less Sol, "an' I think we'd betterlay low in thicket an' watch. It looks ez ef we couldn't find anything, so we'd better wait an' see what will find us. "

"It looks like the best plan to me, " said Henry, "but I think we mightfirst hunt a while on the other side of the creek. We haven't looked anyover there. "

"That's so, " replied Shif'less Sol, "but the water is at least sevenfeet deep here, an' we don't want to make any splash swimmin'. Supposeyou go up stream, an' I go down, an' the one that finds a ford first kingive a signal. One uv us ought to strike shallow water in three or fourhundred yards. "

Henry followed the current toward the south, while Sol moved up thestream. The boy went cautiously through the dense foliage, and the creeksoon grew wider and shallower. At a distance of about three hundredyards lie came to a point where it could be waded easily. Then heuttered the low cry that was their signal, and went back to meetShif'less Sol. He reached the exact point at which they had parted, andwaited. The shiftless one did not come. The last of his comrades wasgone, and he was alone in the forest. 

CHAPTER III. THE HUT ON THE ISLET

Henry Ware waited at least a quarter of an hour by the creek on theexact spot at which he and Solomon Hyde, called the shiftless one, hadparted, but he knew all the while that his last comrade was not coming. The same powerful and mysterious hand that swept the others away hadtaken him, the wary and cunning Shif'less Sol, master of forest lore andwith all the five senses developed to the highest pitch. Yet his powershad availed him nothing, and the boy again felt that cold chill runningdown his spine. 

Henry expected the omnipotent force to come against him, also, but hisinstinctive caution made him turn and creep into the thickest of theforest, continuing until he found a place in the bushes so thoroughlyhidden that no one could see him ten feet away. There he lay downand rapidly ran over in his mind the events connected with the fourdisappearances. They were few, and he had little on which to go, but hisduty to seek his four comrades, since he alone must do it, was all thegreater. Such a thought as deserting them and fleeing for his ownlife never entered his mind. He would not only seek them, but he wouldpenetrate the mystery of the power that had taken them. 

It was like him now to go about his work with calmness and method. Toapproach an arduous task right one must possess freshness and vigor, andone could have neither without sleep. His present place of hiding seemedto be as secure as any that could be found. So composing himself he tookall chances and sought slumber. Yet it needed a great effort of the willto calm his nerves, and it was a half hour before he began to feel anyof the soothing effect that precedes sleep. But fall asleep he did atlast, and, despite everything, he slept soundly until the morning. 

Henry did not awake to a bright day. The sun had risen, but it wasobscured by gray clouds, and the whole heavens were somber. A cold windbegan to blow, and with it came drops of rain. He shivered despite theenfolding blanket. The coming of the morning had invariably broughtcheerfulness and increase of spirits, but now he felt depression. Heforesaw heavy rain again, and it would destroy any but the deepesttrail. Moreover, his supplies of food were exhausted and he mustreplenish them in some manner before proceeding further. 

A spirit even as bold and strong as Henry's might well have despaired. He had found his comrades, only to lose them again, and the danger thathad threatened them, and the elements as well, now threatened him, too. An acute judge of sky and air, he knew that the rain, cold, insistent, penetrating, would fall all day, and that he must seek shelter if hewould keep his strength. The Indians themselves always took to cover atsuch times. 

He wrapped the blanket around himself, covering his body well from neckto ankle, putting his rifle just inside the fold, but with his handupon it, ready for instant use if it should be needed. Then he started, walking straight ahead until he came to the crown of a little hill. The clouds meanwhile thickened, and the rain, of the kind that he hadforeseen and as cold as ice, was blown against him. The grass and busheswere reeking, and his moccasins became sodden. Despite the vigorouswalking, lie felt the wet cold entering his system. There come timeswhen the hardiest must yield, and he saw the increasing need of refuge. 

He surveyed the country attentively from the low hill. All around was adull gray horizon from which the icy rain dripped everywhere. There wasno open country. All was forest, and the heavy rolling masses of foliagedripped with icy water, too. 

Toward the south the land seemed to dip down, and Henry surmised that ina valley he would be more likely to find the shelter that he craved. Heneeded it badly. As he stood there he shivered again and again fromhead to foot, despite the folds of the blanket. So he started at once, walking fast, and feeling little fear of a foe. It was not likely thatany would be seeking him at such a time. The rain struck him squarelyin the face now. Water came from his moccasins every time his foot waspressed against the earth, and, no matter how closely he drew the foldsof the blanket, little streams of it, like ice to the touch, flowed downhis neck and made their way under his clothing. He could not remember atime when he had felt more miserable. 

He came in about an hour to the dip which, as he had surmised, was theedge of a considerable valley. He ran down the slope, and looked allabout for some place of shelter, a thick windbreak in the lee of a hill, or an outcropping of stone, but he saw neither, and, as he continuedthe search, he came to marshy ground. He saw ahead among the weeds andbushes the gleam of standing pools, and he was about to turn back, whenhe noticed three or four stones, in a row and about a yard from oneanother, projecting slightly above the black muck. It struck him thatthe stones would not naturally be in the soft mud, and, his curiosityaroused, he stepped lightly from one stone to another. When he came tothe last stone that he had seen from the hard ground he beheld severalmore that had been hidden from him by the bushes. Sure now that he hadhappened upon something not created by nature alone, he followed thesestones, leading like steps into the very depths of the swamp, which wasnow deep and dark with ooze all about him. He no longer doubted that thestones, the artificial presence of which might have escaped the keenesteye and most logical mind, were placed there for a purpose, and he wasresolved to know its nature. 

The stepping stones led him about sixty yards into the swamp, and thelast thirty yards were at an angle from the first thirty. Then he cameto a bit of hard ground, a tiny islet in the mire, upon which he couldstand without sinking at all. He looked back from there, and he couldnot see his point of departure. Bushes, weeds, and saplings grew out ofthe swamp to a height of a dozen or fifteen feet, and he was inclosedcompletely. All the vegetation dripped with cold water, and the placewas one of the most dismal that he had ever seen. But he had no thoughtof turning back. 

Henry made a shrewd guess as to whither the path led, but he inferredfrom the appearance of the stepping stones-chiefly from the fact thatan odd one here and there had sunk completely out of sight-that they hadnot been used in a long time, perhaps for years. He found on the otherside of the islet a second line of stones, and they led across a marsh, that was almost like a black liquid, to another and larger island. 

Here the ground was quite firm, supporting a thick growth of largetrees. It seemed to Henry that this island might be seventy or eightyyards across, and he began at once to explore it. In the center, surrounded so closely by swamp oaks that they almost formed a livingwall, he found what he had hoped to find, and his relief was so greatthat, despite his natural and trained stoicism, he gave a little cry ofpleasure when he saw it. 

A small lodge, made chiefly of poles and bark after the Iroquoisfashion, stood within the circle of the trees, occupying almost thewhole of the space. It was apparently abandoned long ago, and timeand weather had done it much damage. But the bark walls, although theyleaned in places at dangerous angles, still stood. The bark roof waspierced by holes on one side, but on the other it was still solid, andshed all the rain from its slope. 

The door was open, but a shutter made of heavy pieces of bark cunninglyjoined together leaned against the wall, and Henry saw that he couldmake use of it. He stepped inside. The hut had a bark floor which wasdry on one side, where the roof was solid, but dripping on the other. Several old articles of Indian use lay about. In one corner was a basketwoven of split willow and still fit for service. There were pieces ofthread made of Indian hemp and the inner bark of the elm. There werealso a piece of pottery and a large, beautifully carved wooden spoonsuch as every Iroquois carried. In the corner farthest from the doorwas a rude fireplace made of large flat stones, although there was noopening for the smoke. 

Henry surveyed it all thoughtfully, and he came to the conclusion thatit was a hut for hunting, built by some warrior of an inquiring mind whohad found this secret place, and who had recognized its possibilities. Here after an expedition for game he could lie hidden from enemies andtake his comfort without fear. Doubtless he had sat in this hut on rainydays like the present one and smoked his pipe in the long, patient calmof which the Indian is capable. 

Yes, there was the pipe, unnoticed before, trumpet shaped and carvedbeautifully, lying on a small bark shelf. Henry picked it tip andexamined the bowl. It was as dry as a bone, and not a particle oftobacco was left there. He believed that it had not been used for atleast a year. Doubtless the Indian who had built this hunting lodge hadfallen in some foray, and the secret of it had been lost until HenryWare, seeking through the cold and rain, had stumbled upon it. 

It was nothing but a dilapidated little lodge of poles and bark, alla-leak, but the materials of a house were there, and Henry was strongand skillful. He covered the holes in the roof with fallen pieces ofbark, laying heavy pieces of wood across them to hold them in place. Then he lifted the bark shutter into position and closed the door. Somedrops of rain still came in through the roof, but they were not many, and he would not mind them for the present. Then he opened the door andbegan his hardest task. 

He intended to build a fire on the flat stones, and, securing fallenwood, he stripped off the bark and cut splinters from the inside. It wasslow work and he was very cold, his wet feet sending chills throughhim, but he persevered, and the little heap of dry splinters grew toa respectable size. Then he cut larger pieces, laying them on one sidewhile he worked with his flint and steel on the splinters. 

Flint and steel are not easily handled even by the most skillful, andHenry saw the spark leap up and die out many times before it finallytook hold of the end of the tiniest splinter and grew. He watched itas it ran along the little piece of wood and ignited another and thenanother, the beautiful little red and yellow flames leaping up half afoot in height. Already he felt the grateful warmth and glow, but hewould not let himself indulge in premature joy. He fed it with largerand larger pieces until the flames, a deeper and more beautiful red andyellow, rose at least two feet, and big coals began to form. He leftthe door open a while in order that the smoke might go out, but when thefire had become mostly coals he closed it again, all except a crack ofabout six inches, which would serve at once to let any stray smoke out, and to let plenty of fresh air in. 

Now Henry, all his preparations made, no detail neglected, proceeded toluxuriate. He spread the soaked blanket out on the bark floor, took offthe sodden moccasins and placed them at one angle of the fire, whilehe sat with his bare feet in front. What a glorious warmth it was! Itseemed to enter at his toes and proceed upward through his body, seekingout every little nook and cranny, to dry and warm it, and fill it fullof new glow and life. 

He sat there a long time, his being radiating with physical comfort. Themoccasins dried on one side, and he turned the other. Finally they driedall over and all through, and he put them on again. Then he hung theblanket on the bark wall near the fire, and it, too, would be dry inanother hour or so. He foresaw a warm and dry place for the night, andsleep. Now if one only had food! But he must do without that for thepresent. 

He rose and tested all his bones and muscles. No stiffness or sorenesshad come from the rain and cold, and he was satisfied. He was fit forany physical emergency. He looked out through the crevice. Night wascoming, and on the little island in the swamp it looked inexpressiblyblack and gloomy. His stomach complained, but he shrugged his shoulders, acknowledging primitive necessity, and resumed his seat by the fire. There he sat until the blanket had dried, and deep night had fully come. 

In the last hour or two Henry did not move. He remained before the fire, crouched slightly forward, while the generous heat fed the flame of lifein him. A glowing bar, penetrating the crevice at the door, fell on theearth outside, but it did not pass beyond the close group of circlingtrees. The rain still fell with uncommon steadiness and persistence, but at times hail was mingled with it. Henry could not remember in hisexperience a more desolate night. It seemed that the whole world dweltin perpetual darkness, and that he was the only living being on it. Yet within the four or five feet square of the hut it was warmand bright, and he was not unhappy. 

He would forget the pangs of hunger, and, wrapping himself in the dryblanket, he lay down before the bed of coals, having first raked ashesover them, and he slept one of the soundest sleeps of his life. Allnight long, the dull cold rain fell, and with it, at intervals, camegusts of hail that rattled like bird shot on the bark walls of the hut. Some of the white pellets blew in at the door, and lay for a moment ortwo on the floor, then melted in the glow of the fire, and were gone. 

But neither wind, rain nor hail awoke Henry. He was as safe, for thetime, in the hut on the islet, as if he were in the fort at Pittsburghor behind the palisades at Wareville. Dawn came, the sky still heavy anddark with clouds, and the rain still falling. 

Henry, after his first sense of refreshment and pleasure, becameconscious of a fierce hunger that no amount of the will could now keepquiet. His was a powerful system, needing much nourishment, and he musteat. That hunger became so great that it was acute physical pain. Hewas assailed by it at all points, and it could be repelled by only onething, food. He must go forth, taking all risks, and seek it. 

He put on fresh wood, covering it with ashes in order that it might notblaze too high, and left the islet. The stepping stones were slipperywith water, and his moccasins soon became soaked again, but he forgotthe cold and wet in that ferocious hunger, the attacks of which becamemore violent every minute. He was hopeful that he might see a deer, oreven a squirrel, but the animals themselves were likely to keep undercover in such a rain. He expected a hard hunt, and it would be attendedalso by much danger--these woods must be full of Indians--but he thoughtlittle of the risk. His hunger was taking complete possession of hismind. He was realizing now that one might want a thing so much that itwould drive away all other thoughts. 

Rifle in hand, ready for any quick shot, he searched hour after hourthrough the woods and thickets. He was wet, bedraggled, and as fierceas a famishing panther, but neither skill nor instinct guided him toanything. The rabbit hid in his burrow, the squirrel remained in hishollow tree, and the deer did not leave his covert. 

Henry could not well calculate the passage of time, it seemed sofearfully long, and there was no one to tell him, but he judged thatit must be about noon, and his temper was becoming that of the famishedpanther to which he likened himself. He paused and looked around thecircle of the dripping woods. He had retained his idea of direction andhe knew that he could go straight back to the hut in the swamp. But hehad no idea of returning now. A power that neither he nor anyone elsecould resist was pushing him on his search. 

Searching the gloomy horizon again, he saw against the dark sky athin and darker line that he knew to be smoke. He inferred, also, withcertainty, that it came from an Indian camp, and, without hesitation, turned his course toward it. Indian camp though it might be, andcontaining the deadliest of foes, he was glad to know something livedbeside himself in this wilderness. 

He approached with great caution, and found his surmise to be correct. Lying full length in a wet thicket he saw a party of about twentywarriors-Mohawks he took them to be-in an oak opening. They had erectedbark shelters, they had good fires, and they were cooking. He saw themroasting the strips over the coals-bear meat, venison, squirrel, rabbit, bird-and the odor, so pleasant at other times, assailed his nostrils. But it was now only a taunt and a torment. It aroused every possiblepang of hunger, and every one of them stabbed like a knife. 

The warriors, so secure in their forest isolation, kept no sentinels, and they were enjoying themselves like men who had everything theywanted. Henry could hear them laughing and talking, and he watched themas they ate strip after strip of the delicate, tender meat with thewonderful appetite that the Indian has after long fasting. A fierce, unreasoning anger and jealousy laid hold of him. He was starving, andthey rejoiced in plenty only fifty yards away. He began to form plansfor a piratical incursion upon them. Half the body of a deer lay nearthe edge of the opening, he would rush upon it, seize it, and dart away. It might be possible to escape with such spoil. 

Then he recalled his prudence. Such a thing was impossible. The wholeband of warriors would be upon him in an instant. The best thing that hecould do was to shut out the sight of so much luxury in which he couldnot share, and he crept away among the bushes wondering what he coulddo to drive away those terrible pains. His vigorous system was cryinglouder than ever for the food that would sustain it. His eyes wereburning a little too brightly, and his face was touched with fever. 

Henry stopped once to catch a last glimpse of the fires and the feastingIndians under the bark shelters. He saw a warrior raise a bone, graspingit in both hands, and bite deep into the tender flesh that clothed it. The sight inflamed him into an anger almost uncontrollable. He clenchedhis fist and shook it at the warrior, who little suspected the proximityof a hatred so intense. Then he bent his head down and rushed away amongthe wet bushes which in rebuke at his lack of caution raked him acrossthe face. 

Henry walked despondently back toward the islet in the swamp. The aspectof air and sky had not changed. The heavens still dripped icy water, and there was no ray of cheerfulness anywhere. The game remained wellhidden. 

It was a long journey back, and as he felt that he was growing weak hemade no haste. He came to dense clumps of bushes, and plowing his waythrough them, he saw a dark opening under some trees thrown down by anold hurricane. Having some vague idea that it might be the lair of awild animal, he thrust the muzzle of his rifle into the darkness. Ittouched a soft substance. There was a growl, and a black form shot outalmost into his face. Henry sprang aside, and in an instant all hispowers and faculties returned. He had stirred up a black bear, andbefore the animal, frightened as much as he was enraged, could run farthe boy, careless how many Indians might hear, threw up his rifle andfired. 

His aim was good. The bear, shot through the head, fell, and was dead. Henry, transformed, ran up to him. Bear life had been given up tosustain man's. Here was food for many days, and he rejoiced with a greatjoy. He did not now envy those warriors back there. 

The bear, although small, was very fat. Evidently he had fed well onacorns and wild honey, and he would yield up steaks which, to one withHenry's appetite, would be beyond compare. He calculated that it wasmore than a mile to the swamp, and, after a few preliminaries, he flungthe body of the bear over his shoulder. Through some power of the mindover the body his full strength had returned to him miraculously, andwhen he reached the stepping stones he crossed from one to anotherlightly and firmly, despite the weight that he carried. 

He came to the little bark hut which he now considered his own. Thenight had fallen again, but some coals still glowed under the ashes, andthere was plenty of dry wood. He did everything decently and in order. He took the pelt from the bear, carved the body properly, and then, justas the Indians had done, he broiled strips over the coals. He ate themone after another, slowly, and tasting all the savor, and, intense aswas the mere physical pleasure, it was mingled with a deep thankfulness. Not only was the life nourished anew in him, but he would now regain thestrength to seek his comrades. 

When he had eaten enough he fastened the body of the bear, now inseveral portions, on hooks high upon the walls, hooks which evidentlyhad been placed there by the former owner of the hut for this verypurpose. Then, sure that the savor of the food would draw other wildanimals, he brought one of the stepping stones and placed it on theinside of the door. The door could not be pushed aside without arousinghim, and, secure in the knowledge, he went to sleep before the coals. 

CHAPTER IV. THE RED CHIEFS

Henry awoke only once, and that was about half way between midnight andmorning, when his senses, never still entirely, even in sleep, warnedhim that something was at the door. He rose cautiously upon his arm, sawa dark muzzle at the crevice, and behind it a pair of yellow, gleamingeyes. He knew at once that it was a panther, probably living in theswamp and drawn by the food. It must be very hungry to dare thus thesmell of man. Henry's hand moved slowly to the end of a stick, theother end of which was a glowing coal. Then he seized it and hurled itdirectly at the inquisitive head. 

The hot end of the stick struck squarely between the yellow eyes. Therewas a yelp of pain, and the boy heard the rapid pad of the big cat'sfeet as it fled into the swamp. Then he turned over on his side, andlaughed in genuine pleasure at what was to him a true forest joke. Heknew the panther would not come, at least not while he was in the hut, and he calmly closed his eyes once more. The old Henry was himselfagain. 

He awoke in the morning to find that the cold rain was still falling. Itseemed to him that it had prepared to rain forever, but he was resolved, nevertheless, now that he had food and the strength that food brings, tobegin the search for his comrades. The islet in the swamp would serve ashis base-nothing could be better-and he would never cease until he foundthem or discovered what had become of them. 

A little spring of cold water flowed from the edge of the islet to loseitself quickly in the swamp. Henry drank there after his breakfast, andthen felt as strong and active as ever. As he knew, the mind may triumphover the body, but the mind cannot save the body without food. Thenhe made his precious bear meat secure against the prowling panther orothers of his kind, tying it on hanging boughs too high for a jump andtoo slender to support the weight of a large animal. This task finishedquickly, he left the swamp and returned toward the spot where lie hadseen the Mohawks. 

The falling rain and the somber clouds helped Henry, in a way, as thewhole forest was enveloped in a sort of gloom, and he was less likely tobe seen. But when he had gone about half the distance he heard Indianssignaling to one another, and, burying himself as usual in the wetbushes, he saw two small groups of warriors meet and talk. Presentlythey separated, one party going toward the east and the other toward thewest. Henry thought they were out hunting, as the Indians usually tooklittle care of the morrow, eating all their food in a few days, nomatter how great the supply might be. 

When he drew near the place he saw three more Indians, and these weretraveling directly south. He was quite sure now that his theory wascorrect. They were sending out hunters in every direction, in order thatthey might beat up the woods thoroughly for game, and his own positionanywhere except on the islet was becoming exceedingly precarious. Nevertheless, using all his wonderful skill, he continued the hunt. Hehad an abiding faith that his four comrades were yet alive, and he meantto prove it. 

In the afternoon the clouds moved away a little, and the rain decreased, though it did not cease. The Indian signs multiplied, and Henry feltsure that the forest within a radius of twenty miles of his isletcontained more than one camp. Some great gathering must be in progressand the hunters were out to supply it with food. Four times he heardthe sound of shots, and thrice more he saw warriors passing throughthe forest. Once a wounded deer darted past him, and, lying down in thebushes, he saw the Indians following the fleeing animal. As the day grewolder the trails multiplied. Certainly a formidable gathering of bandswas in progress, and, feeling that he might at any time be caught in anet, he returned to the islet, which had now become a veritable fort forhim. 

It was not quite dark when he arrived, and he found all as it had beenexcept the tracks of two panthers under the boughs to which hehad fastened the big pieces of bear meat. Henry felt a malicioussatisfaction at the disappointment of the panthers. 

"Come again, and have the same bad luck, " he murmured. 

At dusk the rain ceased entirely, and he prepared for a journey in thenight. He examined his powder carefully to see that no particle of itwas wet, counted the bullets in his pouch, and then examined the skies. There was a little moon, not too much, enough to show him the way, butnot enough to disclose him to an enemy unless very near. Then he leftthe islet and went swiftly through the forest, laying his course a thirdtime toward the Indian camp. He was sure now that all the hunters hadreturned, and he did not expect the necessity of making any stops forthe purpose of hiding. His hopes were justified, and as he drew near thecamp he became aware that its population had increased greatly. It wasproved by many signs. New trails converged upon it, and some of themwere very broad, indicating that many warriors had passed. Theyhad passed, too, in perfect confidence, as there was no effort atconcealment, and Henry surmised that no white force of any size couldbe within many days' march of this place. But the very security of theIndians helped his own design. They would not dream that any one of thehated race was daring to come almost within the light of their fires. 

Henry had but one fear just now, and that was dogs. If the Indians hadany of their mongrel curs with them, they would quickly scent himout and give the alarm with their barking. But he believed that theprobabilities were against it. This, so he thought then, was a war orhunting camp, and it was likely that the Indians would leave the dogsat their permanent villages. At any rate he would take the risk, andhe drew slowly toward the oak opening, where some Indians stood about. Beyond them, in another dip of the valley, was a wider opening whichhe had not seen on his first trip, and this contained not only barkshelters, but buildings that indicated a permanent village. The secondand larger opening was filled with a great concourse of warriors. 

Fortunately the foliage around the opening was very dense, many treesand thickets everywhere. Henry crept to the very rim, where, lying inthe blackest of the shadows, and well hidden himself, he could yet seenearly everything in the camp. The men were not eating now, although itwas obvious that the hunters had done well. The dressed bodies of deerand bear hung in the bark shelters. Most of the Indians sat about thefires, and it seemed to Henry that they had an air of expectancy. Atleast two hundred were present, and all of them were in war paint, although there were several styles of paint. There was a differencein appearance, too, in the warriors, and Henry surmised thatrepresentatives of all the tribes of the Iroquois were there, coming tothe extreme western boundary or fringe of their country. 

While Henry watched them a half dozen who seemed by their bearing andmanner to be chiefs drew together at a point not far from him and talkedtogether earnestly. Now and then they looked toward the forest, andhe was quite sure that they were expecting somebody, a person ofimportance. He became deeply interested. He was lying in a dense clumpof hazel bushes, flat upon his stomach, his face raised but little abovethe ground. He would have been hidden from the keenest eye only ten feetaway, but the faces of the chiefs outlined against the blazing firelightwere so clearly visible to him that he could see every change ofexpression. They were fine-looking men, all of middle age, tall, lean, their noses hooked, features cut clean and strong, and their headsshaved, all except the defiant scalp lock, into which the feather ofan eagle was twisted. Their bodies were draped in fine red or blueblankets, and they wore leggins and moccasins of beautifully tanneddeerskin. 

They ceased talking presently, and Henry heard a distant wailing notefrom the west. Some one in the camp replied with a cry in kind, and thena silence fell upon them all. The chiefs stood erect, looking toward thewest. Henry knew that he whom they expected was at hand. 

The cry was repeated, but much nearer, and a warrior leaped into theopening, in the full blaze of the firelight. He was entirely naked savefor a breech cloth and moccasins, and he was a wild and savage figure. He stood for a moment or two, then faced the chiefs, and, bowing beforethem, spoke a few words in the Wyandot tongue-Henry knew already by hispaint that he was a Wyandot. 

The chiefs inclined their heads gravely, and the herald, turning, leapedback into the forest. In two or three minutes six men, including theherald, emerged from the woods, and Henry moved a little when he saw thefirst of the six, all of whom were Wyandots. It was Timmendiquas, headchief of the Wyandots, and Henry had never seen him more splendid inmanner and bearing than he was as he thus met the representatives of thefamous Six Nations. Small though the Wyandot tribe might be, mighty wasits valor and fame, and White Lightning met the great Iroquois only asan equal, in his heart a superior. 

It was an extraordinary thing, but Henry, at this very moment, burrowingin the earth that he might not lose his life at the hands of either, wasan ardent partisan of Timmendiquas. It was the young Wyandot chiefwhom he wished to be first, to make the greatest impression, and he waspleased when he heard the low hum of admiration go round the circle oftwo hundred savage warriors. It was seldom, indeed, perhaps never, thatthe Iroquois had looked upon such a man as Timmendiquas. 

Timmendiquas and his companions advanced slowly toward the chiefs, andthe Wyandot overtopped all the Iroquois. Henry could tell by the mannerof the chiefs that the reputation of the famous White Lightning hadpreceded him, and that they had already found fact equal to report. 

The chiefs, Timmendiquas among them, sat down on logs before the fire, and all the warriors withdrew to a respectful distance, where they stoodand watched in silence. The oldest chief took his long pipe, beautifullycarved and shaped like a trumpet, and filled it with tobacco which helighted with a coal from the fire. Then he took two or three whiffs andpassed the pipe to Timmendiquas, who did the same. Every chief smokedthe pipe, and then they sat still, waiting in silence. 

Henry was so much absorbed in this scene, which was at once a spectacleand a drama, that he almost forgot where he was, and that he was anenemy. He wondered now at their silence. If this was a council surelythey would discuss whatever question had brought them there! But he wassoon enlightened. That low far cry came again, but from the east. Itwas answered, as before, from the camp, and in three or four minutes awarrior sprang from the forest into the opening. Like the first, he wasnaked except for the breech cloth and moccasins. The chiefs rose at hiscoming, received his salute gravely, and returned it as gravely. Thenhe returned to the forest, and all waited in the splendid calm of theIndian. 

Curiosity pricked Henry like a nettle. Who was coming now? It must besome man of great importance, or they would not wait so silently. There was the same air of expectancy that had preceded the arrival ofTimmendiquas. All the warriors looked toward the eastern wall of theforest, and Henry looked the same way. Presently the black foliageparted, and a man stepped forth, followed at a little distance by sevenor eight others. The stranger, although tall, was not equal in height toTimmendiquas, but he, too, had a lofty and splendid presence, and itwas evident to anyone versed at all in forest lore that here was a greatchief. He was lean but sinewy, and he moved with great ease and grace. He reminded Henry of a powerful panther. He was dressed, after themanner of famous chiefs, with the utmost care. His short military coatof fine blue cloth bore a silver epaulet on either shoulder. Hishead was not bare, disclosing the scalp lock, like those of the otherIndians; it was covered instead with a small hat of felt, round andlaced. Hanging carelessly over one shoulder was a blanket of blue clothwith a red border. At his side, from a belt of blue leather swung asilver-mounted small sword. His leggins were of superfine blue cloth andhis moccasins of deerskin. Both were trimmed with small beads of manycolors. 

The new chief advanced into the opening amid the dead silence that stillheld all, and Timmendiquas stepped forward to meet him. These two heldthe gaze of everyone, and what they and they alone did had become ofsurpassing interest. Each was haughty, fully aware of his own dignityand importance, but they met half way, looked intently for a moment ortwo into the eyes of each other, and then saluted gravely. 

All at once Henry knew the stranger. He had never seen him before, buthis impressive reception, and the mixture of military and savage attirerevealed him. This could be none other than the great Mohawk war chief, Thayendanegea, the Brant of the white men, terrible name on the border. Henry gazed at him eagerly from his covert, etching his features foreveron his memory. His face, lean and strong, was molded much like that ofTimmendiquas, and like the Wyandot he was young, under thirty. 

Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea-it was truly he-returned to the fire, and once again the trumpet-shaped pipe was smoked by all. The two youngchiefs received the seats of favor, and others sat about them. But theywere not the only great chiefs present, though all yielded first placeto them because of their character and exploits. 

Henry was not mistaken in his guess that this was an important council, although its extent exceeded even his surmise. Delegates and head chiefsof all the Six Nations were present to confer with the warlike Wyandotsof the west who had come so far east to meet them. Thayendanegea was thegreat war chief of the Mohawks, but not their titular chief. The latterwas an older man, Te-kie-ho-ke (Two Voices), who sat beside the younger. The other chiefs were the Onondaga, Tahtoo-ta-hoo (The Entangled); theOneida, O-tat-sheh-te (Bearing a Quiver); the Cayuga, Te-ka-ha-hoonk (HeWho Looks Both Ways); the Seneca, Kan-ya-tai-jo (Beautiful Lake); andthe Tuscarora, Ta-ha-en-te-yahwak-hon (Encircling and Holding Up aTree). The names were hereditary, and because in a dim past they hadformed the great confederacy, the Onondagas were first in the council, and were also the high priests and titular head of the Six Nations. Butthe Mohawks were first on-the war path. 

All the Six Nations were divided into clans, and every clan, camping inits proper place, was represented at this meeting. 

Henry had heard much at Pittsburgh of the Six Nations, their wonderfulleague, and their wonderful history. He knew that according to thelegend the league had been formed by Hiawatha, an Onondaga. He wasopposed in this plan by Tododaho, then head chief of the Onondagas, but he went to the Mohawks and gained the support of their greatchief, Dekanawidah. With his aid the league was formed, and the solemnagreement, never broken, was made at the Onondaga Lake. Now they were aperfect little state, with fifty chiefs, or, including the head chiefs, fifty-six. 

Some of these details Henry was to learn later. He was also to learnmany of the words that the chiefs said through a source of which helittle dreamed at the present. Yet he divined much of it from themeeting of the fiery Wyandots with the highly developed and warlikepower of the Six Nations. 

Thayendanegea was talking now, and Timmendiquas, silent and grave, waslistening. The Mohawk approached his subject indirectly through thetrope, allegory, and simile that the Indian loved. He talked of theunseen deities that ruled the life of the Iroquois through mysticdreams. He spoke of the trees, the rocks, and the animals, all of whichto the Iroquois had souls. He called on the name of the Great Spirit, which was Aieroski before it became Manitou, the Great Spirit who, inthe Iroquois belief, had only the size of a dwarf because his soul wasso mighty that he did not need body. 

"This land is ours, the land of your people and mine, oh, chief of thebrave Wyandots, " he said to Timmendiquas. "Once there was no land, onlythe waters, but Aieroski raised the land of Konspioni above the foam. Then he sowed five handfuls of red seed in it, and from those handfulsgrew the Five Nations. Later grew up the Tuscaroras, who have joinedus and other tribes of our race, like yours, great chief of the braveWyandots. "

Timmendiquas still said nothing. He did not allow an eyelid to flickerat this assumption of superiority for the Six Nations over all othertribes. A great warrior he was, a great politician also, and he wishedto unite the Iroquois in a firm league with the tribes of the Ohiovalley. The coals from the great fire glowed and threw out an intenseheat. Thayendanegea unbuttoned his military coat and threw it back, revealing a bare bronze chest, upon which was painted the device ofthe Mohawks, a flint and steel. The chests of the Onondaga, Cayuga, andSeneca head chiefs were also bared to the glow. The device on the chestof the Onondaga was a cabin on top of a hill, the Caytiga's was a greatpipe, and the figure of a mountain adorned the Seneca bronze. 

"We have had the messages that you have sent to us, Timmendiquas, "said Thayendanegea, "and they are good in the eyes of our people, theRotinonsionni (the Mohawks). They please, too, the ancient tribe, theKannoseone (the Onondagas), the valiant Hotinonsionni (the Senecas), andall our brethren of the Six Nations. All the land from the salt water tothe setting sun was given to the red men by Aieroski, but if we do notdefend it we cannot keep it. "

"It is so, " said Timmendiquas, speaking for the first time. "We havefought them on the Ohio and in Kaintuck-ee, where they come with theirrifles and axes. The whole might of the Wyandots, the Shawnees, theMiamis, the Illinois, the Delawares, and the Ottawas has gone forthagainst them. We have slain many of them, but we have failed to drivethem back. Now we have come to ask the Six Nations to press down uponthem in the east with all your power, while we do the same in the west. Surely then your Aieroski and our Manitou, who are the same, will notrefuse us success. "

The eyes of Thayendanegea glistened. 

"You speak well, Timmendiquas, " he said. "All the red men must unite tofight for the land of Konspioni which Aieroski raised above the sea, andwe be two, you and I, Timmendiquas, fit to lead them to battle. "

"It is so, " said Timmendiquas gravely. 

CHAPTER V. THE IROQUOIS TOWN

Henry lay fully an hour in the bushes. He had forgotten about the dogsthat he dreaded, but evidently he was right in his surmise that thecamp contained none. Nothing disturbed him while he stared at what waspassing by the firelight. There could be no doubt that the meeting ofTimmendiquas and Thayendanegea portended great things, but he would notbe stirred from his task of rescuing his comrades or discovering theirfate. 

They two, great chiefs, sat long in close converse. Others-older men, chiefs, also-came at times and talked with them. But these two, proud, dominating, both singularly handsome men of the Indian type, were alwaysthere. Henry was almost ready to steal away when he saw a new figureapproaching the two chiefs. The walk and bearing of the stranger werefamiliar, and HENRY knew him even before his face was lighted tip bythe fire. It was Braxton Wyatt, the renegade, who had escaped the greatbattles on both the Ohio and the Mississippi, and who was here with theIroquois, ready to do to his own race all the evil that he could. Henryfelt a shudder of repulsion, deeper than any Indian could inspire inhim. They fought for their own land and their own people, but BraxtonWyatt had violated everything that an honest man should hold sacred. 

Henry, on the whole, was not surprised to see him. Such a chance wassure to draw Braxton Wyatt. Moreover, the war, so far as it pertained tothe border, seemed to be sweeping toward the northeast, and it bore manystormy petrels upon its crest. 

He watched Wyatt as he walked toward one of the fires. There therenegade sat down and talked with the warriors, apparently on the bestof terms. He was presently joined by two more renegades, whom Henryrecognized as Blackstaffe and Quarles. Timmendiquas and Thayendanegearose after a while, and walked toward the center of the camp, whereseveral of the bark shelters had been enclosed entirely. Henry judgedthat one had been set apart for each, but they were lost from his viewwhen they passed within the circling ring of warriors. 

Henry believed that the Iroquois and Wyandots would form a fortifiedcamp here, a place from which they would make sudden and terrible foraysupon the settlements. He based his opinion upon the good location andthe great number of saplings that had been cut down already. They wouldbuild strong lodges and then a palisade around them with the saplings. He was speedily confirmed in this opinion when he saw warriors come tothe forest with hatchets and begin to cut down more saplings. He knewthen that it was time to go, as a wood chopper might blunder upon him atany time. 

He slipped from his covert and was quickly gone in the forest. His limbswere somewhat stiff from lying so long in one position, but that soonwore away, and he was comparatively fresh when he came once more to theislet in the swamp. A good moon was now shining, tipping the forest witha fine silvery gray, and Henry purveyed with the greatest satisfactionthe simple little shelter that he had found so opportunely. It was agood house, too, good to such a son of the deepest forest as was Henry. It was made of nothing but bark and poles, but it had kept out allthat long, penetrating rain of the last three or four days, and when helifted the big stone aside and opened the door it seemed as snug a placeas he could have wished. 

He left the door open a little, lighted a small fire on the flat stones, having no fear that it would be seen through the dense curtain that shuthim in, and broiled big bear steaks on the coals. When he had eatenand the fire had died he went out and sat beside the hut. He was wellsatisfied with the day's work, and he wished now to think with allthe concentration that one must put upon a great task if he expects toachieve it. He intended to invade the Indian camp, and he knew full wellthat it was the most perilous enterprise that he had ever attempted. Yet scouts and hunters had done such things and had escaped with theirlives. He must not shrink from the path that others had trodden. 

He made up his mind firmly, and partly thought out his plan ofoperations. Then he rested, and so sanguine was his temperament that hebegan to regard the deed itself as almost achieved. Decision is alwayssoothing after doubt, and he fell into a pleasant dreamy state. A gentlewind was blowing, the forest was dry and the leaves rustled with the lownote that is like the softest chord of a violin. It became penetrating, thrillingly sweet, and hark! it spoke to him in a voice that he knew. It was the same voice that he had heard on the Ohio, mystic, but tellinghim to be of heart and courage. He would triumph over hardships anddangers, and he would see his friends again. 

Henry started up from his vision. The song was gone, and he heard onlythe wind softly moving the leaves. It had been vague and shadowy asgossamer, light as the substance of a dream, but it was real to him, nevertheless, and the deep glow of certain triumph permeated his being, body and mind. It was not strange that he had in his nature somethingof the Indian mysticism that personified the winds and the treesand everything about him. The Manitou of the red man and the ancientAieroski of the Iroquois were the same as his own God. He could notdoubt that he had a message. Down on the Ohio he had had the samemessage more than once, and it had always come true. 

He heard a slight rustling among the bushes, and, sitting perfectlystill, he saw a black bear emerge into the open. It had gained the isletin some manner, probably floundering through the black mire, and thethought occurred to him that it was the mate of the one he had slain, drawn perhaps by instinct on the trail of a lost comrade. He couldhave shot the bear as he sat-and he would need fresh supplies of foodsoon-but he did not have the heart to do it. 

The bear sniffed a little at the wind, which was blowing the human odoraway from him, and sat back on his haunches. Henry did not believe thatthe animal had seen him or was yet aware of his presence, although hemight suspect. There was something humorous and also pathetic in thevisitor, who cocked his head on one side and looked about him. He madea distinct appeal to Henry, who sat absolutely still, so still thatthe little bear could not be sure at first that he was a human being. A minute passed, and the red eye of the bear rested upon the boy. Henryfelt pleasant and sociable, but he knew that he could retain friendlyrelations only by remaining quiet. 

"If I have eaten your comrade, my friend, " he said to himself, "it isonly because of hard necessity. " The bear, little, comic, and yet withthat touch of pathos about him, cocked his head a little further over onone side, and as a silver shaft of moonlight fell upon him Henry couldsee one red eye gleaming. It was a singular fact, but the boy, alonein the wilderness, and the loser of his comrades, felt for the moment asense of comradeship with the bear, which was also alone, and doubtlessthe loser of a comrade, also. He uttered a soft growling sound like thesatisfied purr of a bear eating its food. 

The comical bear rose a little higher on his hind paws, and looked inastonishment at the motionless figure that uttered sounds so familiar. Yet the figure was not familiar. He had never seen a human being before, and the shape and outline were very strange to him. It might be some newkind of animal, and he was disposed to be inquiring, because there wasnothing in these forests which the black bear was afraid of until mancame. 

He advanced a step or two and growled gently. Then he reared up againon his hind paws, and cocked his held to one side in his amusing manner. Henry, still motionless, smiled at him. Here, for an instant at least, was a cheery visitor and companionship. He at least would not break thespell. 

"You look almost as if you could talk, old fellow, " he said to himself, "and if I knew your language I'd ask you a lot of questions. "

The bear, too, was motionless now, torn by doubt and curiosity. Itcertainly was a singular figure that sat there, fifteen or twenty yardsbefore him, and he had the most intense curiosity to solve the mysteryof this creature. But caution held him back. 

There was a sudden flaw in the light breeze. It shifted about andbrought the dreadful man odor to the nostrils of the honest black bear. It was something entirely new to him, but it contained the quality offear. That still strange figure was his deadliest foe. Dropping downupon his four paws, he fled among the trees, and then scrambled somehowthrough the swamp to the mainland. 

Henry sighed. Despite his own friendly feeling, the bear, warned byinstinct, was afraid of him, and, as he was bound to acknowledge tohimself, the bear's instinct was doubtless right. He rose, went intothe hut, and slept heavily through the night. In the morning he leftthe islet once more to scout in the direction of the Indian camp, but hefound it a most dangerous task. The woods were full of warriors hunting. As he had judged, the game was abundant, and he heard rifles crackingin several directions. He loitered, therefore, in the thickest of thethickets, willing to wait until night came for his enterprise. It wasadvisable, moreover, to wait, because he did not see yet just how he wasgoing to succeed. He spent nearly the whole day shifting here and therethrough the forest, but late in the afternoon, as the Indians yet seemedso numerous in the woods, he concluded to go back toward the islet. 

He was about two miles from the swamp when he heard a cry, sharp butdistant. It was that of the savages, and Henry instinctively divined thecause. A party of the warriors had come somehow upon his trail, and theywould surely follow it. It was a mischance that he had not expected. He waited a minute or two, and then heard the cry again, but nearer. He knew that it would come no more, but it confirmed him in his firstopinion. 

Henry had little fear of being caught, as the islet was so securelyhidden, but he did not wish to take even a remote chance of itsdiscovery. Hence he ran to the eastward of it, intending as the darknesscame, hiding his trail, to double back and regain the hut. 

He proceeded at a long, easy gait, his mind not troubled by the pursuit. It was to him merely an incident that should be ended as soon aspossible, annoying perhaps, but easily cured. So he swung lightly along, stopping at intervals among the bushes to see if any of the warriors haddrawn near, but he detected nothing. Now and then he looked up to thesky, willing that night should end this matter quickly and peacefully. 

His wish seemed near fulfillment. An uncommonly brilliant sun wassetting. The whole west was a sea of red and yellow fire, but in theeast the forest was already sinking into the dark. He turned now, andwent back toward the west on a line parallel with the pursuit, but muchcloser to the swamp. The dusk thickened rapidly. The sun dropped overthe curve of the world, and the vast complex maze of trunks and boughsmelted into a solid black wall. The incident of the pursuit was over andwith it its petty annoyances. He directed his course boldly now for thestepping stones, and traveled fast. Soon the first of them would be lessthan a hundred yards away. 

But the incident was not over. Wary and skillful though the young forestrunner might be, he had made one miscalculation, and it led to greatconsequences. As he skirted the edge of the swamp in the darkness, nowfully come, a dusky figure suddenly appeared. It was a stray warriorfrom some small band, wandering about at will. The meeting was probablyas little expected by him as it was by Henry, and they were so closetogether when they saw each other that neither had time to raise hisrifle. The warrior, a tall, powerful man, dropping his gun and snatchingout a knife, sprang at once upon his enemy. 

Henry was borne back by the weight and impact, but, making an immenseeffort, he recovered himself and, seizing the wrist of the Indian'sknife hand, exerted all his great strength. The warrior wished to changethe weapon from his right band, but he dared not let go with the otherlest he be thrown down at once, and with great violence. His firstrush having failed, he was now at a disadvantage, as the Indian is notgenerally a wrestler. Henry pushed him back, and his hand closed tighterand tighter around the red wrist. He wished to tear the knife from it, but he, too, was afraid to let go with the other hand, and so the tworemained locked fast. Neither uttered a cry after the first contact, andthe only sounds in the dark were their hard breathing, which turned to agasp now and then, and the shuffle of their feet over the earth. 

Henry felt that it must end soon. One or the other must give way. Theirsinews were already strained to the cracking point, and making a supremeeffort he bore all his weight upon the warrior, who, unable to sustainhimself, went down with the youth upon him. The Indian uttered a groan, and Henry, leaping instantly to his feet, looked down upon his fallenantagonist, who did not stir. He knew the cause. As they fell the pointof the knife bad been turned upward, and it had entered the Indian'sheart. 

Although he had been in peril at his hands, Henry looked at the slainman in a sort of pity. He had not wished to take anyone's life, and, inreality, he had not been the direct cause of it. But it was a stern timeand the feeling soon passed. The Wyandot, for such he was by his paint, would never have felt a particle of remorse had the victory been his. 

The moon was now coming out, and Henry looked down thoughtfully at thestill face. Then the idea came to him, in fact leaped up in his brain, with such an impulse that it carried conviction. He would take thiswarrior's place and go to the Indian camp. So eager was he, and sofull of his plan, that he did not feel any repulsion as he opened thewarrior's deerskin shirt and took his totem from a place near his heart. It was a little deerskin bag containing a bunch of red feathers. Thiswas his charm, his magic spell, his bringer of good luck, which hadfailed him so woefully this time. Henry, not without a touch of theforest belief, put it inside his own hunting shirt, wishing, althoughhe laughed at himself, that if the red man's medicine had any potency itshould be on his own side. 

Then he found also the little bag in which the Indian carried his warpaint and the feather brush with which he put it on. The next hourwitnessed a singular transformation. A white youth was turned into a redwarrior. He cut his own hair closely, all except a tuft in the center, with his sharp hunting knife. The tuft and the close crop he stainedblack with the Indian's paint. It was a poor black, but he hoped thatit would pass in the night. He drew the tuft into a scalplock, andintertwined it with a feather from the Indian's own tuft. Then hestained his face, neck, hands, and arms with the red paint, and stoodforth a powerful young warrior of a western nation. 

He hid the Indian's weapons and his own raccoon-skin cap in the brush. Then he took the body of the fallen warrior to the edge of the swamp anddropped it in. His object was not alone concealment, but burial as well. He still felt sorry for the unfortunate Wyandot, and he watched himuntil he sank completely from sight in the mire. Then he turned away andtraveled a straight course toward the great Indian camp. 

He stopped once on the way at a clear pool irradiated by the brightmoonlight, and looked attentively at his reflection. By night, at least, it was certainly that of an Indian, and, summoning all his confidence, he continued upon his chosen and desperate task. 

Henry knew that the chances were against him, even with his disguise, but he was bound to enter the Indian camp, and he was prepared to incurall risks and to endure all penalties. He even felt a certain lightnessof heart as he hurried on his way, and at length saw through the forestthe flare of light from the Indian camp. 

He approached cautiously at first in order that he might take a goodlook into the camp, and he was surprised at what he saw. In a singleday the village had been enlarged much more. It seemed to him that itcontained at least twice as many warriors. Women and children, too, hadcome, and he heard a stray dog barking here and there. Many more firesthan usual were burning, and there was a great murmur of voices. 

Henry was much taken aback at first. It seemed that he was about toplunge into the midst of the whole Iroquois nation, and at a time, too, when something of extreme importance was going on, but a littlereflection showed that he was fortunate. Amid so many people, and somuch ferment it was not at all likely that he would be noticed closely. It was his intention, if the necessity came, to pass himself off as awarrior of the Shawnee tribe who had wandered far eastward, but he meantto avoid sedulously the eye of Timmendiquas, who might, through his sizeand stature, divine his identity. 

As Henry lingered at the edge of the camp, in indecision whether to waita little or plunge boldly into the light of the fires, he became awarethat all sounds in the village-for such it was instead of a camp-hadceased suddenly, except the light tread of feet and the sound of manypeople talking low. He saw through the bushes that all the Iroquois, andwith them the detachment of Wyandots under White Lightning, were goingtoward a large structure in the center, which he surmised to be theCouncil House. He knew from his experience with the Indians farther westthat the Iroquois built such structures. 

He could no longer doubt that some ceremony of the greatest importancewas about to begin, and, dismissing indecision, he left the bushesand entered the village, going with the crowd toward the great polebuilding, which was, indeed, the Council House. 

But little attention was paid to Henry. He would have drawn none at all, had it not been for his height, and when a warrior or two glanced at himhe uttered some words in Shawnee, saying that he had wandered far, and was glad to come to the hospitable Iroquois. One who could speaka little Shawnee bade him welcome, and they went on, satisfied, theirminds more intent upon the ceremony than upon a visitor. 

The Council House, built of light poles and covered with poles andthatch, was at least sixty feet long and about thirty feet wide, with alarge door on the eastern side, and one or two smaller ones on the othersides. As Henry arrived, the great chiefs and sub-chiefs of the Iroquoiswere entering the building, and about it were grouped many warriors andwomen, and even children. But all preserved a decorous solemnity, and, knowing the customs of the forest people so well, he was sure that theceremony, whatever it might be, must be of a highly sacred nature. Hehimself drew to one side, keeping as much as possible in the shadow, but he was using to its utmost power every faculty of observation thatNature had given him. 

Many of the fires were still burning, but the moon had come out withgreat brightness, throwing a silver light over the whole village, andinvesting with attributes that savored of the mystic and impressivethis ceremony, held by a savage but great race here in the depths of theprimeval forest. Henry was about to witness a Condoling Council, whichwas at once a mourning for chiefs who had fallen in battle farther eastwith his own people and the election and welcome of their successors. 

The chiefs presently came forth from the Council House or, as it wasmore generally called, the Long House, and, despite the greatness ofThayendanegea, those of the Onondaga tribe, in virtue of their ancientand undisputed place as the political leaders and high priests ofthe Six Nations, led the way. Among the stately Onondaga chiefs were:Atotarho (The Entangled), Skanawati (Beyond the River), Tehatkahtons(Looking Both Ways), Tehayatkwarayen (Red Wings), and Hahiron (TheScattered). They were men of stature and fine countenance, proud ofthe titular primacy that belonged to them because it was the Onondaga, Hiawatha, who had formed the great confederacy more than four hundredyears before our day, or just about the time Columbus was landing on theshores of the New World. 

Next to the Onondagas came the fierce and warlike Mohawks, who livednearest to Albany, who were called Keepers of the Eastern Gate, and whowere fully worthy of their trust. They were content that the Onondagasshould lead in council, so long as they were first in battle, and therewas no jealousy between them. Among their chiefs were Koswensiroutha(Broad Shoulders) and Satekariwate (Two Things Equal). 

Third in rank were the Senecas, and among their chiefs were Kanokarih(The Threatened) and Kanyadariyo (Beautiful Lake). 

These three, the Onondagas, Mohawks, and Senecas, were esteemed thethree senior nations. After them, in order of precedence, camethe chiefs of the three junior nations, the Oneidas, Cayugas, andTuscaroras. All of the great chiefs had assistant chiefs, usuallyrelatives, who, in case of death, often succeeded to their places. Butthese assistants now remained in the crowd with other minor chiefs andthe mass of the warriors. A little apart stood Timmendiquas and hisWyandots. He, too, was absorbed in the ceremony so sacred to him, anIndian, and he did not notice the tall figure of the strange Shawneelingering in the deepest of the shadows. 

The head chiefs, walking solemnly and never speaking, marched across theclearing, and then through the woods to a glen, where two young warriorshad kindled a little fire of sticks as a signal of welcome. The chiefsgathered around the fire and spoke together in low tones. This wasDeyuhnyon Kwarakda, which means "The Reception at the Edge of the Wood. "

Henry and some others followed, as it was not forbidden to see, and hisinterest increased. He shared the spiritual feeling which was impressedupon the red faces about him. The bright moonlight, too, added to theeffect, giving it the tinge of an old Druidical ceremony. 

The chiefs relapsed into silence and sat thus about ten minutes. Thenrose the sound of a chant, distant and measured, and a procession ofyoung and inferior chiefs, led by Oneidas, appeared, slowly approachingthe fire. Behind them were warriors, and behind the warriors were manywomen and children. All the women were in their brightest attire, gaywith feather headdresses and red, blue, or green blankets from theBritish posts. 

The procession stopped at a distance of about a dozen yards from thechiefs about the council fire, and the Oneida, Kathlahon, formed the menin a line facing the head chiefs, with the women and children groupedin an irregular mass behind them. The singing meanwhile had stopped. Thetwo groups stood facing each other, attentive and listening. 

Then Hahiron, the oldest of the Onondagas, walked back and forth in thespace between the two groups, chanting a welcome. Like all Indian songsit was monotonous. Every line he uttered with emphasis and a risinginflection, the phrase "Haih-haih" which may be translated "Hail tothee!" or better, "All hail!" Nevertheless, under the moonlight in thewilderness and with rapt faces about him, it was deeply impressive. Henry found it so. 

Hahiron finished his round and went back to his place by the fire. Atotarho, head chief of the Onondagas, holding in his hands beautifullybeaded strings of Iroquois wampum, came forward and made a speech ofcondolence, to which Kathlahon responded. Then the head chiefs andthe minor chiefs smoked pipes together, after which the head chiefs, followed by the minor chiefs, and these in turn by the crowd, led theway back to the village. 

Many hundreds of persons were in this procession, which was still verygrave and solemn, every one in it impressed by the sacred nature ofthis ancient rite. The chief entered the great door of the Long House, and all who could find places not reserved followed. Henry went in withthe others, and sat in a corner, making himself as small as possible. Many women, the place of whom was high among the Iroquois, were also inthe Long House. 

The head chiefs sat on raised seats at the north end of the great room. In front of them, on lower seats, were the minor chiefs of the threeolder nations on the left, and of the three younger nations on theright. In front of these, but sitting on the bark floor, was a group ofwarriors. At the east end, on both high and low seats, were warriors, and facing them on the western side were women, also on both highand low seats. The southern side facing the chiefs was divided intosections, each with high and low seats. The one on the left was occupiedby men, and the one on the right by women. Two small fires burned in thecenter of the Long House about fifteen feet apart. 

It was the most singular and one of the most impressive scenes thatHenry had ever beheld. When all had found their seats there was a deepsilence. Henry could hear the slight crackling made by the two fires asthey burned, and the light fell faintly across the multitude of dark, eager faces. Not less than five hundred people were in the Long House, and here was the red man at his best, the first of the wild, not thesecond or third of the civilized, a drop of whose blood in his veinsbrings to the white man now a sense of pride, and not of shame, as itdoes when that blood belongs to some other races. 

The effect upon Henry was singular. He almost forgot that he was a foeamong them on a mission. For the moment he shared in their feelings, andhe waited with eagerness for whatever might come. 

Thayendanegea, the Mohawk, stood up in his place among the great chiefs. The role he was about to assume belonged to Atotarho, the Onondaga, but the old Onondaga assigned it for the occasion to Thayendanegea, andthere was no objection. Thayendanegea was an educated man, he had beenin England, he was a member of a Christian church, and he had translateda part of the Bible from English into his own tongue, but now he was alla Mohawk, a son of the forest. 

He spoke to the listening crowd of the glories of the Six Nations, howHah-gweh-di-yu (The Spirit of Good) had inspired Hiawatha to form theGreat Confederacy of the Five Nations, afterwards the Six; how they hadheld their hunting grounds for nearly two centuries against both Englishand French; and how they would hold them against the Americans. Hestopped at moments, and deep murmurs of approval went through the LongHouse. The eyes of both men and women flashed as the orator spoke oftheir glory and greatness. Timmendiquas, in a place of honor, noddedapproval. If he could he would form such another league in the west. 

The air in the Long House, breathed by so many, became heated. It seemedto have in it a touch of fire. The orator's words burned. Swift and deepimpressions were left upon the excited brain. The tall figure of theMohawk towered, gigantic, in the half light, and the spell that he threwover all was complete. 

He spoke about half an hour, but when he stopped he did not sit down. Henry knew by the deep breath that ran through the Long House thatsomething more was coming from Thayendanegea. Suddenly the red chiefbegan to sing in a deep, vibrant voice, and this was the song that hesung:

 This was the roll of you, All hail! All hail! All hail!

 You that joined in the work, All hail! All hail! All hail!

 You that finished the task, All hail! All hail! All hail!

 The Great League, All hail! All hail! All hail!

There was the same incessant repetition of "Haih haih!" that Henry hadnoticed in the chant at the edge of the woods, but it seemed to give acumulative effect, like the roll of thunder, and at every slight pausethat deep breath of approval ran through the crowd in the Long House. The effect of the song was indescribable. Fire ran in the veins of all, men, women, and children. The great pulses in their throats leaped up. They were the mighty nation, the ever-victorious, the League of theHo-de-no-sau-nee, that had held at bay both the French and the Englishsince first a white man was seen in the land, and that would keep backthe Americans now. 

Henry glanced at Timmendiquas. The nostrils of the great White Lightningwere twitching. The song reached to the very roots of his being, andaroused all his powers. Like Thayendanegea, he was a statesman, and hesaw that the Americans were far more formidable to his race thanEnglish or French had ever been. The Americans were upon the ground, andincessantly pressed upon the red man, eye to eye. Only powerful leagueslike those of the Iroquois could withstand them. 

Thayendanegea sat down, and then there was another silence, a periodlasting about two minutes. These silences seemed to be a necessary partof all Iroquois rites. When it closed two young warriors stretched anelm bark rope across the room from east to west and near the ceiling, but between the high chiefs and the minor chiefs. Then they hung dressedskins all along it, until the two grades of chiefs were hidden from theview of each other. This was the sign of mourning, and was followed by asilence. The fires in the Long House had died down somewhat, and littlewas to be seen but the eyes and general outline of the people. Then aslender man of middle years, the best singer in all the Iroquois nation, arose and sang:

 To the great chiefs bring we greeting, All hail! All hail! All hail!

 To the dead chiefs, kindred greeting, All hail! All hail! All hail!

 To the strong men 'round him greeting, All hail! All hail! All hail!

 To the mourning women greeting, All hail! All hail! All hail!

 There our grandsires' words repeating, All hail! All hail! All hail!

 Graciously, Oh, grandsires, hear, All hail! All hail! All hail!

The singing voice was sweet, penetrating, and thrilling, and the songwas sad. At the pauses deep murmurs of sorrow ran through the crowdin the Long House. Grief for the dead held them all. When he finished, Satekariwate, the Mohawk, holding in his hands three belts of wampum, uttered a long historical chant telling of their glorious deeds, towhich they listened patiently. The chant over, he handed the belts toan attendant, who took them to Thayendanegea, who held them for a fewmoments and looked at them gravely. 

One of the wampum belts was black, the sign of mourning; another waspurple, the sign of war; and the third was white, the sign of peace. They were beautiful pieces of workmanship, very old. 

When Hiawatha left the Onondagas and fled to the Mohawks he crossed alake supposed to be the Oneida. While paddling along he noticed that mantiny black, purple, and white shells clung to his paddle. Reaching theshore he found such shells in long rows upon the beach, and it occurredto him to use them for the depiction of thought according to color. Hestrung them on threads of elm bark, and afterward, when the great leaguewas formed, the shells were made to represent five clasped hands. Forfour hundred years the wampum belts have been sacred among the Iroquois. 

Now Thayendanegea gave the wampum belts back to the attendant, whoreturned them to Satekariwate, the Mohawk. There was a silence oncemore, and then the chosen singer began the Consoling Song again, but nowhe did not sing it alone. Two hundred male voices joined him, andthe time became faster. Its tone changed from mourning and sorrowto exultation and menace. Everyone thought of war, the tomahawk, andvictory. The song sung as it was now became a genuine battle song, rousing and thrilling. The Long House trembled with the mighty chorus, and its volume poured forth into the encircling dark woods. 

All the time the song was going on, Satekariwate, the Mohawk, stoodholding the belts in his hand, but when it was over he gave them to anattendant, who carried them to another head chief. Thayendanegea nowwent to the center of the room and, standing between the two fires, asked who were the candidates for the places of the dead chiefs. 

The dead chiefs were three, and three tall men, already chosen amongtheir own tribes, came forward to succeed them. Then a fourth came, andHenry was startled. It was Timmendiquas, who, as the bravest chief ofthe brave Wyandots, was about to become, as a signal tribute, and asa great sign of friendship, an adopted son and honorary chief of theMohawks, Keepers of the Western Gate, and most warlike of all theIroquois tribes. 

As Timmendiquas stood before Thayendanegea, a murmur of approval deeperthan any that had gone before ran through all the crowd in the LongHouse, and it was deepest on the women's benches, where sat many matronsof the Iroquois, some of whom were chiefs-a woman could be a chief amongthe Iroquois. 

The candidates were adjudged acceptable by the other chiefs, andThayendanegea addressed them on their duties, while they listenedin grave silence. With his address the sacred part of the rite wasconcluded. Nothing remained now but the great banquet outside--althoughthat was much--and they poured forth to it joyously, Thayendanegea, theMohawk, and Timmendiquas, the Wyandot, walking side by side, the finesttwo red chiefs on all the American continent. 

CHAPTER VI. THE EVIL SPIRIT'S WORK

Henry slipped forth with the crowd from the Long House, stoopingsomewhat and shrinking into the smallest possible dimensions. But therewas little danger now that any one would notice him, as long as hebehaved with prudence, because all grief and solemnity were thrownaside, and a thousand red souls intended to rejoice. A vast banquet wasarranged. Great fires leaped up all through the village. At every firethe Indian women, both young and old, were already far forward with thecooking. Deer, bear, squirrel, rabbit, fish, and every other varietyof game with which the woods and rivers of western New York andPennsylvania swarmed were frying or roasting over the coals, and the airwas permeated with savory odors. There was a great hum of voices andan incessant chattering. Here in the forest, among themselves, and incomplete security, the Indian stoicism was relaxed. According to theircustoms everybody fell to eating at a prodigious rate, as if they hadnot tasted anything for a month, and as if they intended to eat enoughnow to last another month. 

It was far into the night, because the ceremonies had lasted a longtime, but a brilliant moon shone down upon the feasting crowd, and theflames of the great fires, yellow and blue, leaped and danced. This wasan oasis of light and life. Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea sat togetherbefore the largest fire, and they ate with more restraint than theothers. Even at the banquet they would not relax their dignity asgreat chiefs. Old Skanawati, the Onondaga, old Atotarho, Onondaga, too, Satekariwate, the Mohawk, Kanokarih, the Seneca, and others, head chiefsthough they were of the three senior tribes, did not hesitate to eat asthe rich Romans of the Empire ate, swallowing immense quantities of allkinds of meat, and drinking a sort of cider that the women made. Severalwarriors ate and drank until they fell down in a stupor by the fires. The same warriors on the hunt or the war path would go for days withoutfood, enduring every manner of hardship. Now and then a warrior wouldleap up and begin a chant telling of some glorious deed of his. Those athis own fire would listen, but elsewhere they took no notice. 

In the largest open space a middle-aged Onondaga with a fine facesuddenly uttered a sharp cry: "Hehmio!" which he rapidly repeated twice. Two score voices instantly replied, "Heh!" and a rush was made for him. At least a hundred gathered around him, but they stood in a respectfulcircle, no one nearer than ten feet. He waved his hand, and all sat downon the ground. Then, he, too, sat down, all gazing at him intently andwith expectancy. 

He was a professional story-teller, an institution great and honoredamong the tribes of the Iroquois farther back even than Hiawatha. Hebegan at once the story of the warrior who learned to talk with thedeer and the bear, carrying it on through many chapters. Now and then adelighted listener would cry "Hah!" but if anyone became bored and fellasleep it was considered an omen of misfortune to the sleeper, and hewas chased ignominiously to his tepee. The Iroquois romancer was betterprotected than the white one is. He could finish some of his stories inone evening, but others were serials. When he arrived at the end of thenight's installment he would cry, "Si-ga!" which was equivalent to our"To be continued in our next. " Then all would rise, and if tired wouldseek sleep, but if not they would catch the closing part of some otherstory-teller's romance. 

At three fires Senecas were playing a peculiar little wooden flute oftheir own invention, that emitted wailing sounds not without a certainsweetness. In a corner a half dozen warriors hurt in battle were bathingtheir wounds with a soothing lotion made from the sap of the bass wood. 

Henry lingered a while in the darkest corners, witnessing the feasting, hearing the flutes and the chants, listening for a space to thestory-tellers and the enthusiastic "Hahs!" They were so full of feastingand merrymaking now that one could almost do as he pleased, and he stoletoward the southern end of the village, where he had noticed severalhuts, much more strongly built than the others. Despite all his naturalskill and experience his heart beat very fast when he came to the first. He was about to achieve the great exploration upon which he had venturedso much. Whether he would find anything at the end of the risk he ran, he was soon to see. 

The hut, about seven feet square and as many feet in height, was builtstrongly of poles, with a small entrance closed by a clapboard doorfastened stoutly on the outside with withes. The hut was well in theshadow of tepees, and all were still at the feasting and merrymaking. He cut the withes with two sweeps of his sharp hunting knife, opened thedoor, bent his head, stepped in and then closed the door behind him, inorder that no Iroquois might see what had happened. 

It was not wholly dark in the hut, as there were cracks between thepoles, and bars of moonlight entered, falling upon a floor of bark. Theyrevealed also a figure lying full length on one side of the hut. A greatpulse of joy leaped up in Henry's throat, and with it was a deep pity, also. The figure was that of Shif'less Sol, but he was pale and thin, and his arms and legs were securely bound with thongs of deerskin. 

Leaning over, Henry cut the thongs of the shiftless one, but he did notstir. Great forester that Shif'less Sol was, and usually so sensitive tothe lightest movement, he perceived nothing now, and, had he not foundhim bound, Henry would have been afraid that he was looking upon hisdead comrade. The hands of the shiftless one, when the hands were cut, had fallen limply by his side, and his face looked all the more pallidby contrast with the yellow hair which fell in length about it. But itwas his old-time friend, the dauntless Shif'less Sol, the last of thefive to vanish so mysteriously. 

Henry bent down and pulled him by the shoulder. The captive yawned, stretched himself a little, and lay still again with closed eyes. Henry shook him a second time and more violently. Shif'less Sol sat upquickly, and Henry knew that indignation prompted the movement. Sol heldhis arms and legs stiffly and seemed to be totally unconscious that theywere unbound. He cast one glance upward, and in the dim light saw thetall warrior bending over him. 

"I'll never do it, Timmendiquas or White Lightning, whichever name youlike better!" he exclaimed. "I won't show you how to surprise the whitesettlements. You can burn me at the stake or tear me in pieces first. Now go away and let me sleep. "

He sank back on the bark, and started to close his eyes again. It wasthen that he noticed for the first time that his hands were unbound. He held them up before his face, as if they were strange objects whollyunattached to himself, and gazed at them in amazement. He moved his legsand saw that they, too, were unbound. Then he turned his startled gazeupward at the face of the tall warrior who was looking down at him. Shif'less Sol was wholly awake now. Every faculty in him was alive, andhe pierced through the Shawnee disguise. He knew who it was. He knewwho had come to save him, and he sprang to his feet, exclaiming the oneword:

"Henry!"

The hands of the comrades met in the clasp of friendship which only manydangers endured together can give. 

"How did you get here?" asked the shiftless one in a whisper. 

"I met an Indian in the forest, " replied Henry, "and well I am now he. "

Shif'less Sol laughed under his breath. 

"I see, " said he, "but how did you get through the camp? It's a bigone, and the Iroquois are watchful. Timmendiquas is here, too, with hisWyandots. "

"They are having a great feast, " replied Henry, "and I could go aboutalmost unnoticed. Where are the others, Sol?"

"In the cabins close by. "

"Then we'll get out of this place. Quick! Tie up your hair! In thedarkness you can easily pass for an Indian. "

The shiftless one drew his hair into a scalp lock, and the two slippedfrom the cabin, closing the door behind them and deftly retying thethongs, in order that the discovery of the escape might occur as lateas possible. Then they stood a few moments in the shadow of the hut andlistened to the sounds of revelry, the monotone of the story-tellers, and the chant of the singers. 

"You don't know which huts they are in, do you?" asked Henry, anxiously. 

"No, I don't, " replied the shiftless one. 

"Get back!" exclaimed Henry softly. "Don't you see who's passing outthere?"

"Braxton Wyatt, " said Sol. "I'd like to get my hands on that scoundrel. I've had to stand a lot from him. "

"The score must wait. But first we'll provide you with weapons. See, the Iroquois have stacked some of their rifles here while they're at thefeast. "

A dozen good rifles had been left leaning against a hut near by, andHenry, still watching lest he be observed, chose the best, with itsammunition, for his comrade, who, owing to his semi-civilized attire, still remained in the shadow of the other hut. 

"Why not take four?" whispered the shiftless one. "We'll need them forthe other boys. "

Henry took four, giving two to his comrade, and then they hastilyslipped back to the other side of the hut. A Wyandot and a Mohawk werepassing, and they had eyes of hawks. Henry and Sol waited until theformidable pair were gone, and then began to examine the huts, trying tosurmise in which their comrades lay. 

"I haven't seen 'em a-tall, a-tall, " said Sol, "but I reckon from thetalk that they are here. I was s'prised in the woods, Henry. A halfdozen reds jumped on me so quick I didn't have time to draw a weepin. Timmendiquas was at the head uv 'em an' he just grinned. Well, he is agreat chief, if he did truss me up like a fowl. I reckon the same thinghappened to the others. "

"Come closer, Sol! Come closer!" whispered Henry. "More warriors arewalking this way. The feast is breaking up, and they'll spread allthrough the camp. "

A terrible problem was presented to the two. They could no longer searchamong the strong huts, for their comrades. The opportunity to save hadlasted long enough for one only. But border training is stern, and thesetwo had uncommon courage and decision. 

"We must go now, Sol, " said Henry, "but we'll come back. "

"Yes, " said the shiftless one, "we'll come back. "

Darting between the huts, they gained the southern edge of the forestbefore the satiated banqueters could suspect the presence of an enemy. Here they felt themselves safe, but they did not pause. Henry led theway, and Shif'less Sol followed at a fair degree of speed. 

"You'll have to be patient with me for a little while, Henry, " saidSol in a tone of humility. "When I wuz layin' thar in the lodge with myhands an' feet tied I wuz about eighty years old, jest ez stiff ez couldbe from the long tyin'. When I reached the edge o' the woods the bloodwuz flowin' lively enough to make me 'bout sixty. Now I reckon I'mfifty, an' ef things go well I'll be back to my own nateral age in twoor three hours. "

"You shall have rest before morning, " said Henry, "and it will be in agood place, too. I can promise that. "

Shif'less Sol looked at him inquiringly, but he did not say anything. Like the rest of the five, Sol had acquired the most implicit confidencein their bold young leader. He had every reason to feel good. Thatpainful soreness was disappearing from his ankles. As they advancedthrough the woods, weeks dropped from him one by one. Then the monthsbegan to roll away, and at last time fell year by year. As theyapproached the deeps of the forest where the swamp lay, Solomon Hyde, the so called shiftless one, and wholly undeserving of the name, wasyoung again. 

"I've got a fine little home for us, Sol, " said Henry. "Best we've hadsince that time we spent a winter on the island in the lake. This islittler, but it's harder to find. It'll be a fine thing to know you'resleeping safe and sound with five hundred Iroquois warriors only a fewmiles away. "

"Then it'll suit me mighty well, " said Shif'less Sol, grinning broadly. "That's jest the place fur a lazy man like your humble servant, which isme. "

They reached the stepping stones, and Henry paused a moment. 

"Do you feel steady enough, Sol, to jump from stone to stone?" he asked. 

"I'm feelin' so good I could fly ef I had to, " he replied. "Jest youjump on, Henry, an' fur every jump you take you'll find me only one jumpbehind you!"

Henry, without further ado, sprang from one stone to another, and behindhim, stone for stone, came the shiftless one. It was now past midnight, and the moon was obscured. The keenest eyes twenty yards away couldnot have seen the two dusky figures as they went by leaps into the veryheart of the great, black swamp. They reached the solid ground, and thenthe hut. 

"Here, Sol, " said Henry, "is my house, and yours, also, and soon, Ihope, to be that of Paul, Tom, and Jim, too. "

"Henry, " said Shif'less Sol, "I'm shorely glad to come. "

They went inside, stacked their captured rifles against the wall, andsoon were sound asleep. 

Meanwhile sleep was laying hold of the Iroquois village, also. They hadeaten mightily and they had drunk mightily. Many times had they told theglories of Hode-no-sau-nee, the Great League, and many times had theygladly acknowledged the valor and worth of Timmendiquas and the bravelittle Wyandot nation. Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea had sat sideby side throughout the feast, but often other great chiefs were withthem-Skanawati, Atotarho, and Hahiron, the Onondagas; Satekariwate, theMohawk; Kanokarih and Kanyadoriyo, the Senecas; and many others. 

Toward midnight the women and the children left for the lodges, and soonthe warriors began to go also, or fell asleep on the ground, wrappedin their blankets. The fires were allowed to sink low, and at last theolder chiefs withdrew, leaving only Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea. 

"You have seen the power and spirit of the Iroquois, " saidThayendanegea. "We can bring many more warriors than are here into thefield, and we will strike the white settlements with you. "

"The Wyandots are not so many as the warriors of the Great League, " saidTimmendiquas proudly, "but no one has ever been before them in battle. "

"You speak truth, as I have often heard it, " said Thayendanegeathoughtfully. Then he showed Timmendiquas to a lodge of honor, thefinest in the village, and retired to his own. 

The great feast was over, but the chiefs had come to a momentousdecision. Still chafing over their defeat at Oriskany, they would makea new and formidable attack upon the white settlements, and Timmendiquasand his fierce Wyandots would help them. All of them, from the oldestto the youngest, rejoiced in the decision, and, not least, the famousThayendanegea. He hated the Americans most because they were uponthe soil, and were always pressing forward against the Indian. TheEnglishmen were far away, and if they prevailed in the great war, themarch of the American would be less rapid. He would strike once morewith the Englishmen, and the Iroquois could deliver mighty blows on theAmerican rearguard. He and his Mohawks, proud Keepers of the WesternGate, would lead in the onset. Thayendanegea considered it a goodnight's work, and he slept peacefully. 

The great camp relapsed into silence. The warriors on the groundbreathed perhaps a little heavily after so much feasting, and the fireswere permitted to smolder down to coals. Wolves and panthers drawn bythe scent of food crept through the thickets toward the faint firelight, but they were afraid to draw near. Morning came, and food and drinkwere taken to the lodges in which four prisoners were held, prisonersof great value, taken by Timmendiquas and the Wyandots, and held at hisurgent insistence as hostages. 

Three were found as they had been left, and when their bonds wereloosened they ate and drank, but the fourth hut was empty. The one whospoke in a slow, drawling way, and the one who seemed to be the mostdangerous of them all, was gone. Henry and Sol had taken the severedthongs with them, and there was nothing to show how the prisoner haddisappeared, except that the withes fastening the door had been cut. 

The news spread through the village, and there was much excitement. Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas came and looked at the empty hut. Timmendiquas may have suspected how Shif'less Sol had gone, but he saidnothing. Others believed that it was the work of Hahgweh-da-et-gah (TheSpirit of Evil), or perhaps Ga-oh (The Spirit of the Winds) had takenhim away. 

"It is well to keep a good watch on the others, " said Timmendiquas, andThayendanegea nodded. 

That day the chiefs entered the Long House again, and held a great warcouncil. A string of white wampum about a foot in length was passedto every chief, who held it a moment or two before handing it to hisneighbors. It was then laid on a table in the center of the room, theends touching. This signified harmony among the Six Nations. All thechiefs had been summoned to this place by belts of wampum sent to thedifferent tribes by runners appointed by the Onondagas, to whom thishonor belonged. All treaties had to be ratified by the exchange ofbelts, and now this was done by the assembled chiefs. 

Timmendiquas, as an honorary chief of the Mohawks, and as the real headof a brave and allied nation, was present throughout the council. Hisadvice was asked often, and when he gave it the others listened withgravity and deference. The next day the village played a great game oflacrosse, which was invented by the Indians, and which had been playedby them for centuries before the arrival of the white man. In this casethe match was on a grand scale, Mohawks and Cayugas against Onondagasand Senecas. 

The game began about nine o'clock in the morning in a great naturalmeadow surrounded by forest. The rival sides assembled opposite eachother and bet heavily. All the stakes, under the law of the game, werelaid upon the ground in heaps here, and they consisted of the articlesmost precious to the Iroquois. In these heaps were rifles, tomahawks, scalping knives, wampum, strips of colored beads, blankets, swords, belts, moccasins, leggins, and a great many things taken as spoil inforays on the white settlements, such is small mirrors, brushes ofvarious kinds, boots, shoes, and other things, the whole making a vastassortment. 

These heaps represented great wealth to the Iroquois, and the olderchiefs sat beside them in the capacity of stakeholders and judges. 

The combatants, ranged in two long rows, numbered at least five hundredon each side, and already they began to show an excitement approachingthat which animated them when they would go into battle. Their eyesglowed, and the muscles on their naked backs and chests were tense forthe spring. In order to leave their limbs perfectly free for effort theywore no clothing at all, except a little apron reaching from the waistto the knee. 

The extent of the playground was marked off by two pair of "byes" likethose used in cricket, planted about thirty rods apart. But the goals ofeach side were only about thirty feet apart. 

At a signal from the oldest of the chiefs the contestants arrangedthemselves in two parallel lines facing each other, inside the area andabout ten rods apart. Every man was armed with a strong stick three anda half to four feet in length, and curving toward the end. Uponthis curved end was tightly fastened a network of thongs of untanneddeerskin, drawn until they were rigid and taut. The ball with which theywere to play was made of closely wrapped elastic skins, and was aboutthe size of an ordinary apple. 

At the end of the lines, but about midway between them, sat the chiefs, who, besides being judges and stakeholders, were also score keepers. They kept tally of the game by cutting notches upon sticks. Every timeone side put the ball through the other's goal it counted one, but therewas an unusual power exercised by the chiefs, practically unknown tothe games of white men. If one side got too far ahead, its score wascut down at the discretion of the chiefs in order to keep the game moreeven, and also to protract it sometimes over three or four days. Thewarriors of the leading side might grumble among one another at theamount of cutting the chiefs did, but they would not dare to make anyprotest. However, the chiefs would never cut the leading side down to anabsolute parity with the other. It was always allowed to retain a marginof the superiority it had won. 

The game was now about to begin, and the excitement became intense. Eventhe old judges leaned forward in their eagerness, while the brown bodiesof the warriors shone in the sun, and the taut muscles leaped up underthe skin. Fifty players on each side, sticks in hand, advanced to thecenter of the ground, and arranged themselves somewhat after the fashionof football players, to intercept the passage of the ball toward theirgoals. Now they awaited the coming of the ball. 

There were several young girls, the daughters of chiefs. The mostbeautiful of these appeared. She was not more than sixteen or seventeenyears of age, as slender and graceful as a young deer, and she wasdressed in the finest and most richly embroidered deerskin. Her head wascrowned with a red coronet, crested with plumes, made of the feathers ofthe eagle and heron. She wore silver bracelets and a silver necklace. 

The girl, bearing in her hand the ball, sprang into the very center ofthe arena, where, amid shouts from all the warriors, she placed it uponthe ground. Then she sprang back and joined the throng of spectators. Two of the players, one from each side, chosen for strength anddexterity, advanced. They hooked the ball together in their united batsand thus raised it aloft, until the bats were absolutely perpendicular. Then with a quick, jerking motion they shot it upward. Much mightbe gained by this first shot or stroke, but on this occasion the twoplayers were equal, and it shot almost absolutely straight into the air. The nearest groups made a rush for it, and the fray began. 

Not all played at once, as the crowd was so great, but usually twenty orthirty on each side struck for the ball, and when they became exhaustedor disabled were relieved by similar groups. All eventually came intoaction. 

The game was played with the greatest fire and intensity, assumingsometimes the aspect of a battle. Blows with the formidable sticks weregiven and received. Brown skins were streaked with blood, heads werecracked, and a Cayuga was killed. Such killings were not unusual inthese games, and it was always considered the fault of the man who fell, due to his own awkwardness or unwariness. The body of the dead Cayugawas taken away in disgrace. 

All day long the contest was waged with undiminished courage and zeal, party relieving party. The meadow and the surrounding forest resoundedwith the shouts and yells of combatants and spectators. The old squawswere in a perfect frenzy of excitement, and their shrill screams ofapplause or condemnation rose above every other sound. 

On this occasion, as the contest did not last longer than one day, thechiefs never cut down the score of the leading side. The game closedat sunset, with the Senecas and Onondagas triumphant, and richer by farthan they were in the morning. The Mohawks and Cayugas retired, strippedof their goods and crestfallen. 

Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea, acting as umpires watched the gameclosely to its finish, but not so the renegades Braxton Wyatt andBlackstaffe. They and Quarles had wandered eastward with some Delawares, and had afterward joined the band of Wyandots, though Timmendiquas gavethem no very warm welcome. Quarles had left on some errand a few daysbefore. They had rejoiced greatly at the trapping of the four, one byone, in the deep bush. But they had felt anger and disappointment whenthe fifth was not taken, also. Now both were concerned and alarmed overthe escape of Shif'less Sol in the night, and they drew apart from theIndians to discuss it. 

"I think, " said Wyatt, "that Hyde did not manage it himself, all alone. How could he? He was bound both hand and foot; and I've learned, too, Blackstaffe, that four of the best Iroquois rifles have been taken. Thatmeans one apiece for Hyde and the three prisoners that are left. "

The two exchanged looks of meaning and understanding. 

"It must have been the boy Ware who helped Hyde to get away, " saidBlackstaffe, "and their taking of the rifles means that he and Hydeexpect to rescue the other three in the same way. You think so, too?"

"Of course, " replied Wyatt. "What makes the Indians, who are sowonderfully alert and watchful most of the time, become so careless whenthey have a great feast?"

Blackstaffe shrugged his shoulders. 

"It is their way, " he replied. "You cannot change it. Ware must havenoticed what they were about, and he took advantage of it. But I don'tthink any of the others will go that way. "

"The boy Cotter is in here, " said Braxton Wyatt, tapping the side of asmall hut. "Let's go in and see him. "

"Good enough, " said Blackstaffe. "But we mustn't let him know that Hydehas escaped. "

Paul, also bound hand and foot, was lying on an old wolfskin. He, too, was pale and thin-the strict confinement had told upon him heavily-butPaul's spirit could never be daunted. He looked at the two renegadeswith hatred and contempt. 

"Well, you're in a fine fix, " said Wyatt sneeringly. "We just came in totell you that we took Henry Ware last night. "

Paul looked him straight and long in the eye, and he knew that therenegade was lying. 

"I know better, " he said. 

"Then we will get him, " said Wyatt, abandoning the lie, "and all of youwill die at the stake. "

"You, will not get him, " said Paul defiantly, "and as for the rest ofus dying at the stake, that's to be seen. I know this: Timmendiquasconsiders us of value, to be traded or exchanged, and he's too smarta man to destroy what he regards as his own property. Besides, we mayescape. I don't want to boast, Braxton Wyatt, but you know that we'rehard to hold. "

Then Paul managed to turn over with his face to the wall, as if he werethrough with them. They went out, and Braxton Wyatt said sulkily:

"Nothing to be got out of him. "

"No, " said Blackstaffe, "but we must urge that the strictest kind ofguard be kept over the others. "

The Iroquois were to remain some time at the village, because all theirforces were not yet gathered for the great foray they had in mind. TheOnondaga runners were still carrying the wampum belts of purple shells, sign of war, to distant villages of the tribes, and parties of warriorswere still coming in. A band of Cayugas arrived that night, and withthem they brought a half starved and sick, Lenni-Lenape, whom they hadpicked up near the camp. The Lenni-Lenape, who looked as if he mighthave been when in health a strong and agile warrior, said that news hadreached him through the Wyandots of the great war to be waged by theIroquois on the white settlements, and the spirits would not let himrest unless he bore his part in it. He prayed therefore to be acceptedamong them. 

Much food was given to the brave Lenni-Lenape, and he was sent to alodge to rest. To-morrow he would be well, and he would be welcomed tothe ranks of the Cayugas, a Younger nation. But when the morning came, the lodge was empty. The sick Lenni-Lenape was gone, and with him theboy, Paul, the youngest of the prisoners. Guards bad been posted allaround the camp, but evidently the two had slipped between. Braveand advanced as were the Iroquois, superstition seized upon them. Hah-gweli-da-et-gah was at work among them, coming in the form of thefamished Lenni-Lenape. He had steeped them in a deep sleep, and thenhe had vanished with the prisoner in Se-oh (The Night). Perhaps lie hadtaken away the boy, who was one of a hated race, for some sacrifice ormystery of his own. The fears of the Iroquois rose. If the Spirit ofEvil was among them, greater harm could be expected. 

But the two renegades, Blackstaffe and Wyatt, raged. They did notbelieve in the interference of either good spirits or bad spirits, andjust now their special hatred was a famished Lenni-Lenape warrior. 

"Why on earth didn't I think of it?" exclaimed Wyatt. "I'm sure now byhis size that it was the fellow Hyde. Of Course he slipped to the lodge, let Cotter out, and they dodged about in the darkness until they escapedin the forest. I'll complain to Timmendiquas. "

He was as good as his word, speaking of the laxness of both Iroquois andWyandots. The great White Lightning regarded him with an icy stare. 

"You say that the boy, Cotter, escaped through carelessness?" he asked. 

"I do, " exclaimed Wyatt. 

"Then why did you not prevent it?"

Wyatt trembled a little before the stern gaze of the chief. 

"Since when, " continued Timmendiquas, "have you, a deserter front yourown people, had the right to hold to account the head chief of theWyandots?" Braxton Wyatt, brave though he undoubtedly was, trembled yetmore. He knew that Timmendiquas did not like him, and that the Wyandotchieftain could make his position among the Indians precarious. 

"I did not mean to say that it was the fault of anybody in particular, "he exclaimed hastily, "but I've been hearing so much talk about theSpirit of Evil having a hand in this that I couldn't keep front sayingsomething. Of course, it was Henry Ware and Hyde who did it!"

"It may be, " said Timmendiquas icily, "but neither the Manitou of theWyandots, nor the Aieroski of the Iroquois has given to me the eyes tosee everything that happens in the dark. "

Wyatt withdrew still in a rage, but afraid to say more. He andBlackstaffe held many conferences through the day, and they longed forthe presence of Simon Girty, who was farther west. 

That night an Onondaga runner arrived from one of the farthest villagesof the Mohawks, far east toward Albany. He had been sent from a farthervillage, and was not known personally to the warriors in the great camp, but he bore a wampum belt of purple shells, the sign of war, and hereported directly to Thayendanegea, to whom he brought stirring andsatisfactory words. After ample feasting, as became one who had comeso far, he lay upon soft deerskins in one of the bark huts and soughtsleep. 

But Braxton Wyatt, the renegade, could not sleep. His evil spirit warnedhim to rise and go to the huts, where the two remaining prisoners werekept. It was then about one o'clock in the morning, and as he passed hesaw the Onondaga runner at the door of one of the prison lodges. He wasabout to cry out, but the Onondaga turned and struck him such a violentblow with the butt of a pistol, snatched from under his deerskin tunic, that he fell senseless. When a Mohawk sentinel found and revived himan hour later, the door of the hut was open, and the oldest of theprisoners, the one called Ross, was gone. 

Now, indeed, were the Iroquois certain that the Spirit of Evil wasamong them. When great chiefs like Timmendiquas and Thayendanegeawere deceived, how could a common warrior hope to escape its wickedinfluence!

But Braxton Wyatt, with a sore and aching head, lay all day on a bed ofskins, and his friend, Moses Blackstaffe, could give him no comfort. 

The following night the camp was swept by a sudden and tremendous stormof thunder and lightning, wind and rain. Many of the lodges were throwndown, and when the storm finally whirled itself away, it was found thatthe last of the prisoners, he of the long arms and long legs, had goneon the edge of the blast. 

Truly the Evil Spirit had been hovering over the Iroquois village. 

CHAPTER VII. CATHARINE MONTOUR

The five lay deep in the swamp, reunited once more, and full of content. The great storm in which Long Jim, with the aid of his comrades, haddisappeared, was whirling off to the eastward. The lightning was flaringits last on the distant horizon, but the rain still pattered in thegreat woods. 

It was a small hut, but the five could squeeze in it. They weredry, warm, and well armed, and they had no fear of the storm and thewilderness. The four after their imprisonment and privations wererecovering their weight and color. Paul, who had suffered the most, had, on the other hand, made the quickest recovery, and their presentsituation, so fortunate in contrast with their threatened fate a fewdays before, made a great appeal to his imagination. The door wasallowed to stand open six inches, and through the crevice he watched therain pattering on the dark earth. He felt an immense sense of securityand comfort. Paul was hopeful by nature and full of courage, but when helay bound and alone in a hut in the Iroquois camp it seemed to him thatno chance was left. The comrades had been kept separate, and he hadsupposed the others to be dead. But here he was snatched from the verypit of death, and all the others had been saved from a like fate. 

"If I'd known that you were alive and uncaptured, Henry, " he said, "I'dnever have given up hope. It was a wonderful thing you did to start thechain that drew us all away. "

"It's no more than Sol or Tom or any of you would have done, " saidHenry. 

"We might have tried it, " said Long Jim Hart, "but I ain't sure thatwe'd have done it. Likely ez not, ef it had been left to me my scalpwould be dryin' somewhat in the breeze that fans a Mohawk village. Say, Sol, how wuz it that you talked Onondaga when you played the part uvthat Onondaga runner. Didn't know you knowed that kind uv Injun lingo. "

Shif'less Sol drew himself up proudly, and then passed a thoughtful handonce or twice across his forehead. 

"Jim, " he said, "I've told you often that Paul an' me hez the instinctsuv the eddicated. Learnin' always takes a mighty strong hold on me. Ef I'd had the chance, I might be a purfessor, or mebbe I'd be writin'poetry. I ain't told you about it, but when I wuz a young boy, afore Imoved with the settlers, I wuz up in these parts an' I learned to talkIroquois a heap. I never thought it would be the use to me it hez beennow. Ain't it funny that sometimes when you put a thing away an' it gitsall covered with rust and mold, the time comes when that same forgotlittle thing is the most vallyble article in the world to you. "

"Weren't you scared, Sol, " persisted Paul, "to face a man like Brant, an' pass yourself off as an Onondaga?"

"No, I wuzn't, " replied the shiftless one thoughtfully, "I've been wussscared over little things. I guess that when your life depends on jesta motion o' your hand or the turnin' o' a word, Natur' somehow comes toyour help an' holds you up. I didn't get good an' skeered till it wuzall over, an' then I had one fit right after another. "

"I've been skeered fur a week without stoppin', " said Tom Ross; "jestbeginnin' to git over it. I tell you, Henry, it wuz pow'ful lucky furus you found them steppin' stones, an' this solid little place in themiddle uv all that black mud. "

"Makes me think uv the time we spent the winter on that island inthe lake, " said Long Jim. "That waz shorely a nice place an' pow'fulcomf'table we wuz thar. But we're a long way from it now. That island uvours must be seven or eight hundred miles from here, an' I reckon it'snigh to fifteen hundred to New Orleans, whar we wuz once. "

"Shet up, " said Tom Ross suddenly. "Time fur all uv you to go to sleep, an' I'm goin' to watch. "

"I'll watch, " said Henry. 

"I'm the oldest, an' I'm goin' to have my way this time, " said Tom. 

"Needn't quarrel with me about it, " said Shif'less Sol. "A lazy man likeme is always willin' to go to sleep. You kin hev my watch, Tom, everynight fur the next five years. "

He ranged himself against the wall, and in three minutes was soundasleep. Henry and Paul found room in the line, and they, too, soonslept. Tom sat at the door, one of the captured rifles across his knees, and watched the forest and the swamp. He saw the last flare of thedistant lightning, and he listened to the falling of the rain dropsuntil they vanished with the vanishing wind, leaving the forest stilland without noise. 

Tom was several years older than any of the others, and, althoughpowerful in action, he was singularly chary of speech. Henry was theleader, but somehow Tom looked upon himself as a watcher over the otherfour, a sort of elder brother. As the moon came out a little in the wakeof the retreating clouds, he regarded them affectionately. 

"One, two, three, four, five, " he murmured to himself. "We're all here, an' Henry come fur us. That is shorely the greatest boy the world hezever seed. Them fellers Alexander an' Hannibal that Paul talks aboutcouldn't hev been knee high to Henry. Besides, ef them old Greeks an'Romans hed hed to fight Wyandots an' Shawnees an' Iroquois ez we'vedone, whar'd they hev been?"

Tom Ross uttered a contemptuous little sniff, and on the edge of thatsniff Alexander and Hannibal were wafted into oblivion. Then he wentoutside and walked about the islet, appreciating for the tenth time whata wonderful little refuge it was. He was about to return to the hut whenhe saw a dozen dark blots along the high bough of a tree. He knew them. They were welcome blots. They were wild turkeys that had found what hadseemed to be a secure roosting place in the swamp. 

Tom knew that the meat of the little bear was nearly exhausted, and herewas more food come to their hand. "We're five pow'ful feeders, an' we'llneed you, " he murmured, looking up at the turkeys, "but you kin restthar till nearly mornin'. "

He knew that the turkeys would not stir, and he went back to the hut toresume his watch. Just before the first dawn he awoke Henry. 

"Henry, " he said, "a lot uv foolish wild turkeys hev gone to rest on thelimb of a tree not twenty yards from this grand manshun uv ourn. 'Pearsto me that wild turkeys wuz made fur hungry fellers like us to eat. Kinwe risk a shot or two at 'em, or is it too dangerous?"

"I think we can risk the shots, " said Henry, rising and taking hisrifle. "We're bound to risk something, and it's not likely that Indiansare anywhere near. "

They slipped from the cabin, leaving the other three still sound asleep, and stepped noiselessly among the trees. The first pale gray bar thatheralded the dawn was just showing in the cast. 

"Thar they are, " said Tom Ross, pointing at the dozen dark blots on thehigh bough. 

"We'll take good aim, and when I say 'fire!' we'll both pull trigger, "said Henry. 

He picked out a huge bird near the end of the line, but he noticed whenhe drew the bead that a second turkey just behind the first was directlyin his line of fire. The fact aroused his ambition to kill both withone bullet. It was not a mere desire to slaughter or to displaymarksmanship, but they needed the extra turkey for food. 

"Are you ready, Tom?" he asked. "Then fire. "

They pulled triggers, there were two sharp reports terribly loud to bothunder the circumstances, and three of the biggest and fattest of theturkeys fell heavily to the ground, while the rest flapped their wings, and with frightened gobbles flew away. 

Henry was about to rush forward, but Silent Tom held him back. 

"Don't show yourself, Henry! Don't show yourself!" he cried in tensetones. 

"Why, what's the matter?" asked the boy in surprise. 

"Don't you see that three turkeys fell, and we are only two to shoot?An Injun is layin' 'roun' here some whar, an' he drawed a bead on one uvthem turkeys at the same time we did. "

Henry laughed and put away Tom's detaining hand. 

"There's no Indian about, " he said. "I killed two turkeys with one shot, and I'm mighty proud of it, too. I saw that they were directly in theline of the bullet, and it went through both. "

Silent Tom heaved a mighty sigh of relief, drawn up from great depths. 

"I'm tre-men-jeous-ly glad uv that, Henry, " he said. "Now when I sawthat third turkey come tumblin' down I wuz shore that one Injun or mebbemore had got on this snug little place uv ourn in the swamp, an' thatwe'd hev to go to fightin' ag'in. Thar come times, Henry, when my mindjust natchally rises up an' rebels ag'in fightin', 'specially when Iwant to eat or sleep. Ain't thar anythin' else but fight, fight, fight, 'though I 'low a feller hez got to expect a lot uv it out here in thewoods?"

They picked up the three turkeys, two gobblers and a hen, and foundthem large and fat as butter. More than once the wild turkey had come totheir relief, and, in fact, this bird played a great part in the lifeof the frontier, wherever that frontier might be, as it shifted steadilywestward. As they walked back toward the hut they faced three figures, all three with leveled rifles. 

"All right, boys, " sang out Henry. "It's nobody but Tom and myself, bringing in our breakfast. "

The three dropped their rifles. 

"That's good, " said Shif'less Sol. "When them shots roused us out o'our beauty sleep we thought the whole Iroquois nation, horse, foot, artillery an' baggage wagons, wuz comin' down upon us. So we reckonedwe'd better go out an' lick 'em afore it wuz too late. 

"But it's you, an' you've got turkeys, nothin' but turkeys. Sho' Ireckoned from the peart way Long Jim spoke up that you wuz loaded downwith hummin' birds' tongues, ortylans, an' all them other Roman andRooshian delicacies Paul talks about in a way to make your mouth water. But turkeys! jest turkeys! Nothin' but turkeys!"

"You jest wait till you see me cookin' 'em, Sol Hyde, " said Long Jim. "Then your mouth'll water, an' it'll take Henry and Tom both to hold youback. "

But Shif'less Sol's mouth was watering already, and his eyes were gluedon the turkeys. 

"I'm a pow'ful lazy man, ez you know, Saplin', " he said, "but I'm goin'to help you pick them turkeys an' get 'em ready for the coals. Thequicker they are cooked the better it'll suit me. "

While they were cooking the turkeys, Henry, a little anxious lest thesound of the shots had been heard, crossed on the stepping stones andscouted a bit in the woods. But there was no sign of Indian presence, and, relieved, he returned to the islet just as breakfast was ready. 

Long Jim had exerted all his surpassing skill, and it was a contentedfive that worked on one of the turkeys--the other two being saved forfurther needs. 

"What's goin' to be the next thing in the line of our duty, Henry?"asked Long Jim as they ate. 

"We'll have plenty to do, from all that Sol tells us, " replied the boy. "It seems that they felt so sure of you, while you were prisoners, thatthey often talked about their plans where you could hear them. Sol hastold me of two or three talks between Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea, and from the last one he gathered that they're intending a raid with abig army against a place called Wyoming, in the valley of a river namedthe Susquehanna. It's a big settlement, scattered all along the river, and they expect to take a lot of scalps. They're going to be helped byBritish from Canada and Tories. Boys, we're a long way from home, butshall we go and tell them in Wyoming what's coming?"

"Of course, " said the four together. 

"Our bein' a long way from home don't make any difference, " saidShif'less Sol. "We're generally a long way from home, an' you know wesent word back from Pittsburgh to Wareville that we wuz stayin' a whilehere in the east on mighty important business. "

"Then we go to the Wyoming Valley as straight and as fast as we can, "said Henry. "That's settled. What else did you bear about their plans, Sol?"

"They're to break up the village here soon and then they'll march toa place called Tioga. The white men an' I hear that's to be a lot uv'em-will join 'em thar or sooner. They've sent chiefs all the way to ourCongress at Philydelphy, pretendin' peace, an' then, when they git ourpeople to thinkin' peace, they'll jump on our settlements, the wholeragin' army uv 'em, with tomahawk an' knife. A white man named JohnButler is to command 'em. "

Paul shuddered. 

"I've heard of him, " he said. "They called him 'Indian' Butler atPittsburgh. He helped lead the Indians in that terrible battle of theOriskany last year. And they say he's got a son, Walter Butler, who isas bad as he is, and there are other white leaders of the Indians, theJohnsons and Claus. "

"'Pears ez ef we would be needed, " said Tom Ross. 

"I don't think we ought to hurry, " said Henry. "The more we know aboutthe Indian plans the better it will be for the Wyoming people. We've asafe and comfortable hiding place here, and we can stay and watch theIndian movements. "

"Suits me, " drawled Shif'less Sol. "My legs an' arms are still stifffrom them deerskin thongs an' ez Long Jim is here now to wait on me Iguess I'll take a rest from travelin. "

"You'll do all your own waitin' on yourself, " rejoined Long Jim; "an' I'mafraid you won't be waited on so Pow'ful well, either, but a good dealbetter than you deserve. "

They lay on the islet several days, meanwhile keeping a close watchon the Indian camp. They really had little to fear except from huntingparties, as the region was far from any settled portion of the country, and the Indians were not likely to suspect their continued presence. But the hunters were numerous, and all the squaws in the camp were busyjerking meat. It was obvious that the Indians were preparing for a greatcampaign, but that they would take their own time. Most of the scoutingwas done by Henry and Sol, and several times they lay in the thickbrushwood and watched, by the light of the fires, what was passing inthe Indian camp. 

On the fifth night after the rescue of Long Jim, Henry and Shif'less Sollay in the covert. It was nearly midnight, but the fires still burnedin the Indian camp, warriors were polishing their weapons, and the womenwere cutting up or jerking meat. While they were watching they heardfrom a point to the north the sound of a voice rising and failing in akind of chant. 

"Another war party comin', " whispered Shif'less Sol, "an' singin' aboutthe victories that they're goin' to win. "

"But did you notice that voice?" Henry whispered back. "It's not aman's, it's a woman's. "

"Now that you speak of it, you're right, " said Shif'less Sol. "It'sfunny to hear an Injun woman chantin' about battles as she comes intocamp. That's the business o' warriors. "

"Then this is no ordinary woman, " said Henry. 

"They'll pass along that trail there within twenty yards of us, Sol, andwe want to see her. "

"So we do, " said Sol, "but I ain't breathin' while they pass. "

They flattened themselves against the earth until the keenest eye couldnot see them in the darkness. All the time the singing was growinglouder, and both remained, quite sure that it was the voice of a woman. The trail was but a short distance away, and the moon was bright. Thefierce Indian chant swelled, and presently the most singular figure thateither had ever seen came into view. 

The figure was that of an Indian woman, but lighter in color than mostof her kind. She was middle-aged, tall, heavily built, and arrayed in astrange mixture of civilized and barbaric finery, deerskin leggins andmoccasins gorgeously ornamented with heads, a red dress of Europeancloth with a red shawl over it, and her head bare except for brightfeathers, thrust in her long black hair, which hung loosely down herback. She held in one hand a large sharp tomahawk, which she swungfiercely in time to her song. Her face had the rapt, terrible expressionof one who had taken some fiery and powerful drug, and she lookedneither to right nor to left as she strode on, chanting a song of blood, and swinging the keen blade. 

Henry and Shif'less Sol shuddered. They had looked upon terrible humanfigures, but nothing so frightful as this, a woman with the strengthof a man and twice his rage and cruelty. There was something weird andawful in the look of that set, savage face, and the tone of that Indianchant. Brave as they were, Henry and the shiftless one felt fear, asperhaps they had never felt it before in their lives. Well they might!They were destined to behold this woman again, under conditions themost awful of which the human mind can conceive, and to witness savageryalmost unbelievable in either man or woman. The two did not yet knowit, but they were looking upon Catharine Montour, daughter of a FrenchGovernor General of Canada and an Indian woman, a chieftainess of theIroquois, and of a memory infamous forever on the border, where she wasknown as "Queen Esther. "

Shif'less Sol shuddered again, and whispered to Henry:

"I didn't think such women ever lived, even among the Indians. "

A dozen warriors followed Queen Esther, stepping in single file, andtheir manner showed that they acknowledged her their leader in everysense. She was truly an extraordinary woman. Not even the greatThayendanegea himself wielded a stronger influence among the Iroquois. In her youth she had been treated as a white woman, educated and dressedas a white woman, and she had played a part in colonial society atAlbany, New York, and Philadelphia. But of her own accord she had turnedtoward the savage half of herself, had become wholly a savage, hadmarried a savage chief, bad been the mother of savage children, and hereshe was, at midnight, striding into an Iroquois camp in the wilderness, her head aflame with visions of blood, death, and scalps. 

The procession passed with the terrifying female figure still leading, still singing her chant, and the curiosity of Henry and Shif'less Solwas so intense that, taking all risks, they slipped along in the rear tosee her entry. 

Queen Esther strode into the lighted area of the camp, ceased her chant, and looked around, as if a queen had truly come and was waiting to bewelcomed by her subjects. Thayendanegea, who evidently expected her, stepped forward and gave her the Indian salute. It may be that hereceived her with mild enthusiasm. Timmendiquas, a Wyandot and a guest, though an ally, would not dispute with him his place as real head of theSix Nations, but this terrible woman was his match, and could inflamethe Iroquois to almost anything that she wished. 

After the arrival of Queen Esther the lights in the Iroquois villagedied down. It was evident to both Henry and the shiftless one that theyhad been kept burning solely in the expectation of the coming of thisformidable woman and her escort. It was obvious that nothing more was tobe seen that night, and they withdrew swiftly through the forest towardtheir islet. They stopped once in an oak opening, and Shif'less Solshivered slightly. 

"Henry, " he said, "I feel all through me that somethin' terrible iscomin'. That woman back thar has clean give me the shivers. I'm moreafraid of her than I am of Timmendiquas or Thayendanegea. Do you thinkshe is a witch?"

"There are no such things as witches, but she was uncanny. I'm afraid, Sol, that your feeling about something terrible going to happen isright. "

It was about two o'clock in the morning when they reached the islet. TomRoss was awake, but the other two slumbered peacefully on. They told Tomwhat they had seen, and he told them the identity of the terrible woman. 

"I heard about her at Pittsburgh, an' I've heard tell, too, about herafore I went to Kentucky to live. She's got a tre-men-jeous power overthe Iroquois. They think she ken throw spells, an' all that sort ofthing-an' mebbe she kin. "

Two nights later it was Henry and Tom who lay in the thickets, and thenthey saw other formidable arrivals in the Indian camp. Now they werewhite men, an entire company in green uniforms, Sir John Johnson's RoyalGreens, as Henry afterward learned; and with them was the infamous JohnButler, or "Indian" Butler, as he was generally known on the New Yorkand Pennsylvania frontier, middle-aged, short and fat, and insignificantof appearance, but energetic, savage and cruel in nature. He was adescendant of the Duke of Ormond, and had commanded the Indians at theterrible battle of the Oriskany, preceding Burgoyne's capture the yearbefore. 

Henry and Tom were distant spectators at an extraordinary council aroundone of the fires. In this group were Timmendiquas, Thayendanegea, QueenEsther, high chiefs of the distant nations, and the white men, JohnButler, Moses Blackstaffe, and the boy, Braxton Wyatt. It seemed toHenry that Timmendiquas, King of the Wyandots, was superior to all theother chiefs present, even to Thayendanegea. His expression was noblerthan that of the great Mohawk, and it had less of the Indian cruelty. 

Henry and Tom could not hear 'anything that was said, but they felt surethe Iroquois were about to break up their village and march on the greatcampaign they had planned. The two and their comrades could render nogreater service than to watch their march, and then warn those upon whomthe blow was to fall. 

The five left their hut on the islet early the next morning, wellequipped with provisions, and that day they saw the Iroquois dismantletheir village, all except the Long House and two or three other of themore solid structures, and begin the march. Henry and his comrades wentparallel with them, watching their movements as closely as possible. 

CHAPTER VIII. A CHANGE OF TENANTS

The five were engaged upon one of their most dangerous tasks, to keepwith the Indian army, and yet to keep out of its hands, to observe whatwas going on, and to divine what was intended from what they observed. Fortunately it, was early summer, and the weather being very beautifulthey could sleep without shelter. Hence they found it convenient tosleep sometimes by daylight, posting a watch always, and to spy upon theIndian camp at night. They saw other reinforcements come for the Indianarmy, particularly a strong division of Senecas, under two great warchiefs of theirs, Sangerachte and Hiokatoo, and also a body of Tories. 

Then they saw them go into their last great camp at Tioga, preparatoryto their swift descent upon the Wyoming Valley. About four hundredwhite men, English Canadians and Tories, were present, and eight hundredpicked warriors of the Six Nations under Thayendanegea, besides thelittle band of Wyandots led by the resolute Timmendiquas. "Indian"Butler was in general command of the whole, and Queen Esther was thehigh priestess of the Indians, continually making fiery speeches andchanting songs that made the warriors see red. Upon the rear of thisextraordinary army hung a band of fierce old squaws, from whom everyremnant of mercy and Gentleness had departed. 

From a high rock overlooking a valley the five saw "Indian" Butler'sforce start for its final march upon Wyoming. It was composed of manydiverse elements, and perhaps none more bloodthirsty ever trod the soilof America. In some preliminary skirmish a son of Queen Esther had beenslain, and now her fury knew no limits. She took her place at thevery head of the army, whirling her great tomahawk about her head, andneither "Indian" Butler nor Thayendanegea dared to interfere with her inanything great or small. 

Henry and his comrades, as they left their rock and hastened toward thevalley of Wyoming, felt that now they were coming into contact with thegreat war itself. They had looked upon a uniformed enemy for the firsttime, and they might soon see the colonial buff and blue of the easternarmy. Their hearts thrilled high at new scenes and new dangers. 

They had gathered at Pittsburgh, and, through the captivity of the fourin the Iroquois camp, they had some general idea of the Wyoming Valleyand the direction in which it lay, and, taking one last look at thesavage army, they sped toward it. The time was the close, of June, andthe foliage was still dark green. It was a land of low mountain, hill, rich valley, and clear stream, and it was beautiful to every one of thefive. Much of their course lay along the Susquehanna, and soon theysaw signs of a more extended cultivation than any that was yet to bewitnessed in Kentucky. From the brow of a little hill they beheld afield of green, and in another field a man plowing. 

"That's wheat, " said Tom Ross. 

"But we can't leave the man to plow, " said Henry, "or he'll neverharvest that wheat. We'll warn him. "

The man uttered a cry of alarm as five wild figures burst into hisfield. He stopped abruptly, and snatched up a rifle that lay acrossthe plow handles. Neither Henry nor his companions realized that theirforest garb and long life in the wilderness made them look more likeIndians than white men. But Henry threw up a hand as a sign of peace. 

"We're white like yourselves, " he cried, "and we've come to warn you!The Iroquois and the Tories are marching into the valley!"

The man's face blanched, and he cast a hasty look toward a little wood, where stood a cabin from which smoke was rising. He could not doubt on anear view that these were white like himself, and the words rang true. 

"My house is strong, " he said, "and I can beat them off. Maybe you willhelp me. "

"We'd help you willingly enough, " said Henry, "if this were any ordinaryraiding band, but 'Indian' Butler, Brant, and Queen Esther are coming atthe head of twelve or fifteen hundred men. How could we hold a house, nomatter how thick its walls, against such an army as that? Don't hesitatea moment! Get up what you can and gallop. "

The man, a Connecticut settler-Jennings was his name-left his plow inthe furrow, galloped on his horse to his house, mounted his wife andchildren on other horses, and, taking only food and clothing, fled toStroudsburg, where there was a strong fort. At a later day he gave Henryheartfelt thanks for his warning, as six hours afterward the vanguardof the horde burned his home and raged because its owner and his familywere gone with their scalps on their own heads. 

The five were now well into the Wyoming Valley, where the Lenni-Lenape, until they were pushed westward by other tribes, had had their villageWy-wa-mieh, which means in their language Wyoming. It was a beautifulvalley running twenty miles or more along the Susquehanna, and aboutthree miles broad. On either side rose mountain walls a thousand feet inheight, and further away were peaks with mists and vapors around theircrests. The valley itself blazed in the summer sunshine, and the riversparkled, now in gold, now in silver, as the light changed and fell. 

More cultivated fields, more houses, generally of stout logs, appeared, and to all that they saw the five bore the fiery beacon. Simon Jenningswas not the only man who lived to thank them for the warning. Otherswere incredulous, and soon paid the terrible price of unbelief. 

The five hastened on, and as they went they looked about them withwondering eyes-there were so many houses, so many cultivated fields, andso many signs of a numerous population. They had emerged almost for thefirst time from the wilderness, excepting their memorable visit to NewOrleans, although this was a very different region. Long Jim spoke ofit. 

"I think I like it better here than at New Or-leeyuns, " he said. "Wefound some nice Frenchmen an' Spaniards down thar, but the ground feelsfirmer under my feet here. "

"The ground feels firmer, " said Paul, who had some of the prescience ofthe seer, "but the skies are no brighter. They look red to me sometimes, Jim. "

Tom Ross glanced at Paul and shook his head ominously. A woodsman, hehad his superstitions, and Paul's words weighed upon his mind. He beganto fear a great disaster, and his experienced eye perceived at once thedefenseless state of the valley. He remembered the council of the greatIndian force in the deep woods, and the terrible face of Queen Estherwas again before him. 

"These people ought to be in blockhouses, every one uv 'em, " he said. "It ain't no time to be plowin' land. "

Yet peace seemed to brood still over the valley. It was a fine river, beautiful with changing colors. The soil on either side was as deep andfertile as that of Kentucky, and the line of the mountains cut the skysharp and clear. Hills and slopes were dark green with foliage. 

"It must have been a gran' huntin' ground once, " said Shif'less Sol. 

The alarm that the five gave spread fast, and other hunters and scoutscame in, confirming it. Panic seized the settlers, and they began tocrowd toward Forty Fort on the west side of the river. Henry and hiscomrades themselves arrived there toward the close of evening, just asthe sun had set, blood red, behind the mountains. Some report of themhad preceded their coming, and as soon as they had eaten they weresummoned to the presence of Colonel Zebulon Butler, who commanded themilitary force in the valley. Singularly enough, he was a cousin of"Indian" Butler, who led the invading army. 

The five, dressed in deerskin hunting shirts, leggins, and moccasins, and everyone carrying a rifle, hatchet, and knife, entered a large lowroom, dimly lighted by some wicks burning in tallow. A man of middleyears, with a keen New England face, sat at a little table, and severalothers of varying ages stood near. 

The five knew instinctively that the man at the table was ColonelButler, and they bowed, but they did not show the faintest trace ofsubservience. They had caught suspicious glances from some of theofficers who stood about the commander, and they stiffened at once. Colonel Butler looked involuntarily at Henry-everybody always took him, without the telling, for leader of the group. 

"We have had report of you, " he said in cool noncommittal tones, "andyou have been telling of great Indian councils that you have seen in thewoods. May I ask your name and where you belong?"

"My name, " replied Henry with dignity, "is Henry Ware, and I come fromKentucky. My friends here are Paul Cotter, Solomon Hyde, Tom Ross, andJim Hart. They, too, come from Kentucky. "

Several of the men gave the five suspicious glances. Certainly theywere wild enough in appearance, and Kentucky was far away. It wouldseem strange that new settlers in that far land should be here inPennsylvania. Henry saw clearly that his story was doubted. 

"Kentucky, you tell me?" said Colonel Butler. "Do you mean to sayyou have come all that tremendous distance to warn us of an attack byIndians and Tories?"

Several of the others murmured approval, and Henry flushed a little, buthe saw that the commander was not unreasonable. It was a time whenmen might well question the words of strangers. Remembering this, hereplied:

"No, we did not come from Kentucky just to warn you. In fact, wecame from a point much farther than that. We came from New Orleans toPittsburgh with a fleet loaded with supplies for the Continental armies, and commanded by Adam Colfax of New Hampshire. "

The face of Colonel Butler brightened. 

"What!" he exclaimed, "you were on that expedition? It seems to me thatI recall hearing of great services rendered to it by some independentscouts. "

"When we reached Pittsburgh, " continued Henry, "it was our firstintention to go back to Kentucky, but we heard that a great war movementwas in progress to the eastward, and we thought that we would see whatwas going on. Four of us have been captives among the Iroquois. We knowmuch of their plans, and we know, too, that Timmendiquas, the greatchief of the Wyandots, whom we fought along the Ohio, has joined themwith a hand of his best warriors. We have also seen Thayendanegea, everyone of us. "

"You have seen Brant?" exclaimed Colonel Butler, calling the greatMohawk by his white name. 

"Yes, " replied Henry. "We have seen him, and we have also seen the womanthey call Queen Esther. She is continually urging the Indians on. "

Colonel Butler seemed convinced, and invited them to sit down. He alsointroduced the officers who were with him, Colonel John Durkee, ColonelNathan Dennison, Lieutenant Colonel George Dorrance, Major John Garrett, Captain Samuel Ransom, Captain Dethrie Hewitt, and some others. 

"Now, gentlemen, tell us all that you saw, " continued Colonel Butlercourteously. "You will pardon so many questions, but we must be careful. You will see that yourselves. But I am a New England man myself, fromConnecticut, and I have met Adam Colfax. I recall now that we have heardof you, also, and we are grateful for your coming. Will you and yourcomrades tell us all that you have seen and heard?"

The five felt a decided change in the atmosphere. They were no longerpossible Tories or renegades, bringing an alarm at one point when itshould be dreaded at another. The men drew closely around them, andlistened as the tallow wicks sputtered in the dim room. Henry spokefirst, and the others in their turn. Every one of them spoke tersely butvividly in the language of the forest. They felt deeply what they hadseen, and they drew the same picture for their listeners. Gradually thefaces of the Wyoming men became shadowed. This was a formidable talethat they were hearing, and they could not doubt its truth. 

"It is worse than I thought it could be, " said Colonel Butler at last. "How many men do you say they have, Mr. Ware?"

"Close to fifteen hundred. "

"All trained warriors and soldiers. And at the best we cannot raise morethan three hundreds including old men and boys, and our men, too, arefarmers. "

"But we can beat them. Only give us a chance, Colonel!" exclaimedCaptain Ransom. 

"I'm afraid the chance will come too soon, " said Colonel Butler, andthen turning to the five: "Help us all you can. We need scouts andriflemen. Come to the fort for any food and ammunition you may need. "

The five gave their most earnest assurances that they would stay, anddo all in their power. In fact, they had come for that very purpose. Satisfied now that Colonel Butler and his officers had implicit faith inthem they went forth to find that, despite the night and the darkness, fugitives were already crossing the river to seek refuge in Forty Fort, bringing with them tales of death and devastation, some of which wereexaggerated, but too many true in all their hideous details. Men hadbeen shot and scalped in the fields, houses were burning, women andchildren were captives for a fate that no one could foretell. Red ruinwas already stalking down the valley. 

The farmers were bringing their wives and children in canoes and dugoutsacross the river. Here and there a torch light flickered on the surfaceof the stream, showing the pale faces of the women and children, toofrightened to cry. They had fled in haste, bringing with them only theclothes they wore and maybe a blanket or two. The borderers knew toowell what Indian war was, with all its accompaniments of fire and thestake. 

Henry and his comrades helped nearly all that night. They secured alarge boat and crossed the river again and again, guarding the fugitiveswith their rifles, and bringing comfort to many a timid heart. Indianbands had penetrated far into the Wyoming Valley, but they felt surethat none were yet in the neighborhood of Forty Fort. 

It was about three o'clock in the morning when the last of the fugitiveswho had yet come was inside Forty Fort, and the labors of the five, hadthey so chosen, were over for the time. But their nerves were tuned toso high a pitch, and they felt so powerfully the presence of danger, that they could not rest, nor did they have any desire for sleep. 

The boat in which they sat was a good one, with two pairs of oars. Ithad been detailed for their service, and they decided to pull up theriver. They thought it possible that they might see the advance of theenemy and bring news worth the telling. Long Jim and Tom Ross took theoars, and their powerful arms sent the boat swiftly along in the shadowof the western bank. Henry and Paul looked back and saw dim lights atthe fort and a few on either shore. The valley, the high mountain wall, and everything else were merged in obscurity. 

Both the youths were oppressed heavily by the sense of danger, not forthemselves, but for others. In that Kentucky of theirs, yet so new, few people lived beyond the palisades, but here were rich and scatteredsettlements; and men, even in the face of great peril, are always lothto abandon the homes that they have built with so much toil. 

Tom Ross and Long Jim continued to pull steadily with the long strokesthat did not tire them, and the lights of the fort and houses sank outof sight. Before them lay the somber surface of the rippling river, theshadowy hills, and silence. The world seemed given over to the nightsave for themselves, but they knew too well to trust to such apparentdesertion. At such hours the Indian scouts come, and Henry did not doubtthat they were already near, gathering news of their victims for theIndian and Tory horde. Therefore, it was the part of his comrades andhimself to use the utmost caution as they passed up the river. 

They bugged the western shore, where they were shadowed by banks andbushes, and now they went slowly, Long Jim and Tom Ross drawing theiroars so carefully through the water that there was never a plash totell of their passing. Henry was in the prow of the boat, bent forwarda little, eyes searching the surface of the river, and ears intent uponany sound that might pass on the bank. Suddenly he gave a little signalto the rowers and they let their oars rest. 

"Bring the boat in closer to the bank, " he whispered. "Push it gentlyamong those bushes where we cannot be seen from above. "

Tom and Jim obeyed. The boat slid softly among tall bushes that shadowedthe water, and was hidden completely. Then Henry stepped out, creptcautiously nearly up the bank, which was here very low, and lay pressedclosely against the earth, but supported by the exposed root of a tree. He had heard voices, those of Indians, he believed, and he wished tosee. Peering through a fringe of bushes that lined the bank he saw sevenwarriors and one white face sitting under the boughs of a great oak. The face was that of Braxton Wyatt, who was now in his element, with abetter prospect of success than any that he had ever known before. Henryshuddered, and for a moment he regretted that he had spared Wyatt's lifewhen he might have taken it. 

But Henry was lying against the bank to hear what these men might besaying, not to slay. Two of the warriors, as he saw by their paint, wereWyandots, and he understood the Wyandot tongue. Moreover, his slightknowledge of Iroquois came into service, and gradually he gathered thedrift of their talk. Two miles nearer Forty Fort was a farmhouse one ofthe Wyandots had seen it-not yet abandoned by its owner, who believedthat his proximity to Forty Fort assured his safety. He lived there withhis wife and five children, and Wyatt and the Indians planned to raidthe place before daylight and kill them all. Henry had heard enough. Heslid back from the bank to the water and crept into the boat. 

"Pull back down the river as gently as you can, " he whispered, "and thenI'll tell you. "

The skilled oarsmen carried the boat without a splash several hundredyards down the stream, and then Henry told the others of the fiendishplan that he had heard. 

"I know that man, " said Shif'less Sol. "His name is Standish. I wasthere nine or ten hours ago, an' I told him it wuz time to take hisfamily an' run. But he knowed more'n I did. Said he'd stay, he wuzn'tafraid, an' now he's got to pay the price. "

"No, he mustn't do that, " said Henry. "It's too much to pay for justbeing foolish, when everybody is foolish sometimes. Boys, we can yetsave that man an' his wife and children. Aren't you willing to do it?"

"Why, course, " said Long Jim. "Like ez not Standish will shoot at uswhen we knock on his door, but let's try it. "

The others nodded assent. 

"How far back from the river is the Standish house, Sol?" asked Henry. 

"'Bout three hundred yards, I reckon, and' it ain't more'n a mile down. "

"Then if we pull with all our might, we won't be too late. Tom, you andJim give Sol and me the oars now. "

Henry and the shiftless one were fresh, and they sent the boat shootingdown stream, until they stopped at a point indicated by Sol. They leapedashore, drew the boat down the bank, and hastened toward a log housethat they saw standing in a clump of trees. The enemy had not yet come, but as they swiftly approached the house a dog ran barking at them. Theshiftless one swung his rifle butt, and the dog fell unconscious. 

"I hated to do it, but I had to, " he murmured. The next moment Henry wasknocking at the door. 

"Up! Up!" he cried, "the Indians are at hand, and you must run for yourlives!"

How many a time has that terrible cry been heard on the American border!

The sound of a man's voice, startled and angry, came to their ears, andthen they heard him at the door. 

"Who are you?" he cried. "Why are you beating on my door at such atime?"

"We are friends, Mr. Standish, " cried Henry, "and if you would save yourwife and children you must go at once! Open the door! Open, I say!"

The man inside was in a terrible quandary. It was thus that renegadesor Indians, speaking the white man's tongue, sometimes bade a door to beopened, in order that they might find an easy path to slaughter. But thevoice outside was powerfully insistent, it had the note of truth; hiswife and children, roused, too, were crying out, in alarm. Henry knockedagain on the door and shouted to him in a voice, always increasing inearnestness, to open and flee. Standish could resist no longer. He tookdown the bar and flung open the door, springing back, startled at thefive figures that stood before him. In the dusk he did not rememberShif'less Sol. 

"Mr. Standish, " Henry said, speaking rapidly, "we are, as you can see, white. You will be attacked here by Indians and renegades within halfan hour. We know that, because we heard them talking from the bushes. We have a boat in the river; you can reach it in five minutes. Take yourwife and children, and pull for Forty Fort. "

Standish was bewildered. 

"How do I know that you are not enemies, renegades, yourselves?" heasked. 

"If we had been that you'd be a dead man already, " said Shif'less Sol. 

It was a grim reply, but it was unanswerable, and Standish recognizedthe fact. His wife had felt the truth in the tones of the strangers, and was begging him to go. Their children were crying at visions of thetomahawk and scalping knife now so near. 

"We'll go, " said Standish. "At any rate, it can't do any harm. We'll geta few things together. "

"Do not wait for anything!" exclaimed Henry. "You haven't a minute tospare! Here are more blankets! Take them and run for the boat! Sol andJim, see them on board, and then come back!"

Carried away by such fire and earnestness, Standish and his family ranfor the boat. Jim and the shiftless one almost threw them on board, thrust a pair of oars into the bands of Standish, another into the handsof his wife, and then told them to pull with all their might for thefort. 

"And you, " cried Standish, "what becomes of you?"

Then a singular expression passed over his face-he had guessed Henry'splan. 

"Don't you trouble about us, " said the shiftless one. "We will comelater. Now pull! pull!"

Standish and his wife swung on the oars, and in two minutes the boat andits occupants were lost in the darkness. Tom Ross and Sol did not pauseto watch them, but ran swiftly back to the house. Henry was at the door. 

"Come in, " he said briefly, and they entered. Then he closed the doorand dropped the bar into place. Shif'less Sol and Paul were alreadyinside, one sitting on the chair and the other on the edge of the bed. Some coals, almost hidden under ashes, smoldered and cast a faint lightin the room, the only one that the house had, although it was dividedinto two parts by a rough homespun curtain. Henry opened one of thewindow shutters a little and looked out. The dawn had not yet come, butit was not a dark night, and he looked over across the little clearingto the trees beyond. On that side was a tiny garden, and near the wallof the house some roses were blooming. He could see the glow of pink andred. But no enemy bad yet approached. Searching the clearing carefullywith those eyes of his, almost preternaturally keen, he was confidentthat the Indians were still in the woods. He felt an intense thrill ofsatisfaction at the success of his plan so far. 

He was not cruel, he never rejoiced in bloodshed, but the borderer aloneknew what the border suffered, and only those who never saw or felt thetorture could turn the other cheek to be smitten. The Standish house hadmade a sudden and ominous change of tenants. 

"It will soon be day, " said Henry, "and farmers are early risers. Kindleup that fire a little, will you, Sol? I want some smoke to come out ofthe chimney. "

The shiftless one raked away the ashes, and put on two or three piecesof wood that lay on the hearth. Little flames and smoke arose. Henrylooked curiously about the house. It was the usual cabin of thefrontier, although somewhat larger. The bed on which Shif'less Sol satwas evidently that of the father and mother, while two large ones behindthe curtain were used by the children. On the shelf stood a pail halffull of drinking water, and by the side of it a tin cup. Dried herbshung over the fireplace, and two or three chests stood in the corners. The clothing of the children was scattered about. Unprepared food forbreakfast stood on a table. Everything told of a hasty flight and itsterrible need. Henry was already resolved, but his heart hardened withinhim as he saw. 

He took the hatchet from his belt and cut one of the hooks for thedoor bar nearly in two. The others said not a word. They had no needto speak. They understood everything that he did. He opened the windowagain and looked out. Nothing yet appeared. "The dawn will come in threequarters of an hour, " he said, "and we shall not have to wait long forwhat we want to do. "

He sat down facing the door. All the others were sitting, and they, too, faced the door. Everyone had his rifle across his knees, with one handupon the hammer. The wood on the hearth sputtered as the fire spread, and the flames grew. Beyond a doubt a thin spire of smoke was risingfrom the chimney, and a watching eye would see this sign of a peacefuland unsuspecting mind. 

"I hope Braxton Wyatt will be the first to knock at our door, " saidShif'less Sol. 

"I wouldn't be sorry, " said Henry. 

Paul was sitting in a chair near the fire, and he said nothing. He hopedthe waiting would be very short. The light was sufficient for him to seethe faces of his comrades, and he noticed that they were all very tense. This was no common watch that they kept. Shif'less Sol remained on thebed, Henry sat on another of the chairs, Tom Ross was on one of thechests with his back to the wall. Long Jim was near the curtain. Closeby Paul was a home-made cradle. He put down his hand and touched it. Hewas glad that it was empty now, but the sight of it steeled his heartanew for the task that lay before them. 

Ten silent minutes passed, and Henry went to the window again. He didnot open it, but there was a crack through which he could see. Theothers said nothing, but watched his face. When he turned away they knewthat the moment was at hand. 

"They've just come from the woods, " he said, "and in a minute they'll beat the door. Now, boys, take one last look at your rifles. "

A minute later there was a sudden sharp knock at the door, but no answercame from within. The knock was repeated, sharper and louder, and Henry, altering his voice as much as possible, exclaimed like one suddenlyawakened from sleep:

"Who is it? What do you want?"

Back came a voice which Henry knew to be that of Braxton Wyatt:

"We've come from farther up the valley. We're scouts, we've been up tothe Indian country. We're half starved. Open and give us food!"

"I don't believe you, " replied Henry. "Honest people don't come to mydoor at this time in the morning. "

Then ensued a few moments of silence, although Paul, with his vividfancy, thought he heard whispering on the other side of the door. 

"Open!" cried Wyatt, "or we'll break your door down!" Henry saidnothing, nor did any of the others. They did not stir. The fire crackleda little, but there was no other sound in the Standish house. Presentlythey heard a slight noise outside, that of light feet. 

"They are going for a log with which to break the door in, " whisperedHenry. "They won't have to look far. The wood pile isn't fifty feetaway. "

"An' then, " said Shif'less Sol, "they won't have much left to do but totake the scalps of women an' little children. "

Every figure in the Standish house stiffened at the shiftless one'ssignificant words, and the light in the eyes grew sterner. Henry wentto the door, put his ear to the line where it joined the wall, andlistened. 

"They've got their log, " he said, "and in half a minute they'll rush itagainst the door. "

He came back to his old position. Paul's heart began to thump, and histhumb fitted itself over the trigger of his cocked rifle. Then theyheard rapid feet, a smash, a crash, and the door flew open. A half dozenIroquois and a log that they held between them were hurled into themiddle of the room. The door had given away so easily and unexpectedlythat the warriors could not check themselves, and two or three fellwith the log. But they sprang like cats to their feet, and with theircomrades uttered a cry that filled the whole cabin with its terriblesound and import. 

The Iroquois, keen of eyes and quick of mind, saw the trap at once. The five grim figures, rifle in hand and finger on trigger, all waitingsilent and motionless were far different from what they expected. Herecould be no scalps, with the long, silky hair of women and children. 

There was a moment's pause, and then the Indians rushed at their foes. Five fingers pulled triggers, flame leaped from five muzzles, and in aninstant the cabin was filled with smoke and war shouts, but the warriorsnever had a chance. They could only strike blindly with their tomahawks, and in a half minute three of them, two wounded, rushed through the doorand fled to the woods. They had been preceded already by Braxton Wyatt, who had hung back craftily while the Iroquois broke down the door. 

CHAPTER IX. WYOMING

The five made no attempt to pursue. In fact, they did not leave thecabin, but stood there a while, looking down at the fallen, hideous withwar paint, but now at the end of their last trail. Their tomahawks layupon the floor, and glittered when the light from the fire fell uponthem. Smoke, heavy with the odor of burned gunpowder, drifted about theroom. 

Henry threw open the two shuttered windows, and fresh currents of airpoured into the room. Over the mountains in the east came the firstshaft of day. The surface of the river was lightening. 

"What shall we do with them?" asked Paul, pointing to the silent formson the floor. 

"Leave them, " said Henry. "Butler's army is burning everything beforeit, and this house and all in it is bound to go. You notice, however, that Braxton Wyatt is not here. "

"Trust him to escape every time, " said Shif'less Sol. "Of course hestood back while the Indians rushed the house. But ez shore ez we livesomebody will get him some day. People like that can't escape always. "

They slipped from the house, turning toward the river bank, and not longafter it was full daylight they were at Forty Fort again, where theyfound Standish and his family. Henry replied briefly to the man'squestions, but two hours later a scout came in and reported the grimsight that he had seen in the Standish home. No one could ask forfurther proof of the fealty of the five, who sought a little sleep, butbefore noon were off again. 

They met more fugitives, and it was now too dangerous to go farther upthe valley. But not willing to turn back, they ascended the mountainsthat hem it in, and from the loftiest point that they could find soughta sight of the enemy. 

It was an absolutely brilliant day in summer. The blue of the heavensshowed no break but the shifting bits of white cloud, and the hills andmountains rolled away, solid masses of rich, dark green. The river, abeautiful river at any time, seemed from this height a great current ofquicksilver. Henry pointed to a place far up the stream where black dotsappeared on its surface. These dots were moving, and they came on infour lines. 

"Boys, " he said, "you know what those lines of black dots are?"

"Yes, " replied Shif'less Sol, "it's Butler's army of Indians, Tories, Canadians, an' English. They've come from Tioga Point on the river, an'our Colonel Butler kin expect 'em soon. "

The sunlight became dazzling, and showed the boats, despite thedistance, with startling clearness. The five, watching from their peak, saw them turn in toward the land, where they poured forth a motleystream of red men and white, a stream that was quickly swallowed up inthe forest. 

"They are coming down through the woods on the fort, said Tom Ross. 

"And they're coming fast, " said Henry. "It's for us to carry thewarning. "

They sped back to the Wyoming fort, spreading the alarm as they passed, and once more they were in the council room with Colonel Zebulon Butlerand his officers around him. 

"So they are at hand, and you have seen them?" said the colonel. 

"Yes, " replied Henry, the spokesman, "they came down from Tioga Pointin boats, but have disembarked and are advancing through the woods. Theywill be here today. "

There was a little silence in the room. The older men understood thedanger perhaps better than the younger, who were eager for battle. 

"Why should we stay here and wait for them?" exclaimed one of theyounger captains at length-some of these captains were mere boys. "Whynot go out, meet them, and beat them?"

"They outnumber us about five to one, " said Henry. "Brant, if he isstill with them, though he may have gone to some other place from TiogaPoint, is a great captain. So is Timmendiquas, the Wyandot, and they saythat the Tory leader is energetic and capable. "

"It is all true!" exclaimed Colonel Butler. "We must stay in the fort!We must not go out to meet them! We are not strong enough!"

A murmur of protest and indignation came from the younger officers. 

"And leave the valley to be ravaged! Women and children to be scalped, while we stay behind log walls!" said one of them boldly. 

The men in the Wyoming fort were not regular troops, merely militia, farmers gathered hastily for their own defense. 

Colonel Butler flushed. 

"We have induced as many as we could to seek refuge, " he said. "It hurtsme as much as you to have the valley ravaged while we sit quiet here. But I know that we have no chance against so large a force, and if wefall what is to become of the hundreds whom we now protect?"

But the murmur of protest grew. All the younger men were indignant. Theywould not seek shelter for themselves while others were suffering. Ayoung lieutenant saw from a window two fires spring up and burn liketorch lights against the sky. They were houses blazing before the Indianbrand. 

"Look at that!" he cried, pointing with an accusing finger, "and we arehere, under cover, doing nothing!"

A deep angry mutter went about the room, but Colonel Butler, althoughthe flush remained on his face, still shook his head. He glanced at TomRoss, the oldest of the five. 

"You know about the Indian force, " he exclaimed. "What should we do?"

The face of Tom Ross was very grave, and he spoke slowly, as was hiswont. 

"It's a hard thing to set here, " he exclaimed, "but it will be harder togo out an' meet 'em on their own ground, an' them four or five to one. "

"We must not go out, " repeated the Colonel, glad of such backing. 

The door was thrust open, and an officer entered. 

"A rumor has just arrived, saying that the entire Davidson family hasbeen killed and scalped, " he said. 

A deep, angry cry went up. Colonel Butler and the few who stood withhim were overborne. Such things as these could not be endured, andreluctantly the commander gave his consent. They would go out andfight. The fort and its enclosures were soon filled with the sounds ofpreparation, and the little army was formed rapidly. 

"We will fight by your side, of course, " said Henry, "but we wish toserve on the flank as an independent band. We can be of more service inthat manner. "

The colonel thanked them gratefully. 

"Act as you think best, " he said. 

The five stood near one of the gates, while the little force formedin ranks. Almost for the first time they were gloomy upon going intobattle. They had seen the strength of that army of Indians, renegades, Tories, Canadians, and English advancing under the banner of England, and they knew the power and fanaticism of the Indian leaders. Theybelieved that the terrible Queen Esther, tomahawk in hand, hadcontinually chanted to them her songs of blood as they came down theriver. It was now the third of July, and valley and river were beautifulin the golden sunlight. The foliage showed vivid and deep green oneither line of high hills. The summer sun had never shown more kindlyover the lovely valley. 

The time was now three o'clock. The gates of the fort were thrown open, and the little army marched out, only three hundred, of whom seventywere old men, or boys so young that in our day they would be calledchildren. Yet they marched bravely against the picked warriors of theIroquois, trained from infancy to the forest and war, and a formidablebody of white rovers who wished to destroy the little colony of"rebels, " as they called them. 

Small though it might be, it was a gallant army. Young and old heldtheir heads high. A banner was flying, and a boy beat a steady insistentroll upon a drum. Henry and his comrades were on the left flank, theriver was on the right. The great gates had closed behind them, shuttingin the women and the children. The sun blazed down, throwing everythinginto relief with its intense, vivid light playing upon the brown facesof the borderers, their rifles and their homespun clothes. ColonelButler and two or three of his officers were on horseback, leading thevan. Now that the decision was to fight, the older officers, who hadopposed it, were in the very front. Forward they went, and spread outa little, but with the right flank still resting on the river, and theleft extended on the plain. 

The five were on the edge of the plain, a little detached from theothers, searching the forest for a sign of the enemy, who was already sonear. Their gloom did not decrease. Neither the rolling of the drum northe flaunting of the banner had any effect. Brave though the men mightbe, this was not the way in which they should meet an Indian foe whooutnumbered them four or five to one. 

"I don't like it, " muttered Tom Ross. 

"Nor do I, " said Henry, "but remember that whatever happens we all standtogether. "

"We remember!" said the others. 

On-they went, and the five moving faster were now ahead of the mainforce some hundred yards. They swung in a little toward the river. Thebanks here were highland off to the left was a large swamp. The five nowchecked speed and moved with great wariness. They saw nothing, and theyheard nothing, either, until they went forty or fifty yards farther. Then a low droning sound came to their ears. It was the voice of one yetfar away, but they knew it. It was the terrible chant of Queen Esther, in this moment the most ruthless of all the savages, and inflaming themcontinuously for the combat. 

The five threw themselves flat on their faces, and waited a little. Thechant grew louder, and then through the foliage they saw the ominousfigure approaching. She was much as she had been on that night when theyfirst beheld her. She wore the same dress of barbaric colors, she swungthe same great tomahawk about her head, and sang all the time of fireand blood and death. 

They saw behind her the figures of chiefs, naked to the breech cloth forbattle, their bronze bodies glistening with the war paint, and brightfeathers gleaming in their hair. Henry recognized the tall form ofTimmendiquas, notable by his height, and around him his little band ofWyandots, ready to prove themselves mighty warriors to their easternfriends the Iroquois. Back of these was a long line of Indians and theirwhite allies, Sir John Johnson's Royal Greens and Butler's Rangersin the center, bearing the flag of England. The warriors, of whom theSenecas were most numerous, were gathered in greatest numbers on theirright flank, facing the left flank of the Americans. Sangerachte andHiokatoo, who had taken two English prisoners at Braddock's defeat, andwho had afterwards burned them both alive with his own hand, were theprincipal leaders of the Senecas. Henry caught a glimpse of "Indian"Butler in the center, with a great blood-red handkerchief tied aroundhis head, and, despite the forest, he noticed with a great sinking ofthe heart how far the hostile line extended. It could wrap itself like apython around the defense. 

"It's a tale that will soon be told, " said Paul. 

They went back swiftly, and warned Colonel Butler that the enemy wasat band. Even as they spoke they heard the loud wailing chant of QueenEsther, and then came the war whoop, pouring from a thousand throats, swelling defiant and fierce like the cry of a wounded beast. Thefarmers, the boys, and the old men, most of whom had never been inbattle, might well tremble at this ominous sound, so great in volumeand extending so far into the forest. But they stood firm, drawingthemselves into a somewhat more compact body, and still advancing withtheir banners flying, and the boy beating out that steady roll on thedrum. 

The enemy now came into full sight, and Colonel Butler deployed hisforce in line of battle, his right resting on the high bank of the riverand his left against the swamp. Forward pressed the motley army of theother Butler, he of sanguinary and cruel fame, and the bulk of hisforce came into view, the sun shining down on the green uniforms of theEnglish and the naked brown bodies of the Iroquois. 

The American commander gave the order to fire. Eager fingers werealready on the trigger, and a blaze of light ran along the entire rank. The Royal Greens and Rangers, although replying with their own fire, gave back before the storm of bullets, and the Wyoming men, with a shoutof triumph, sprang forward. It was always a characteristic of the bordersettler, despite many disasters and a knowledge of Indian craft andcunning, to rush straight at his foe whenever he saw him. His, unlessa trained forest warrior himself, was a headlong bravery, and now thisgallant little force asked for nothing but to come to close grips withthe enemy. 

The men in the center with "Indian" Butler gave back still more. Withcries of victory the Wyoming men pressed forward, firing rapidly, andcontinuing to drive the mongrel white force. The rifles were crackingrapidly, and smoke arose over the two lines. The wind caught wisps of itand carried them off down the river. 

"It goes better than I thought, " said Paul as he reloaded his rifle. 

"Not yet, " said Henry, "we are fighting the white men only. Where areall the Indians, who alone outnumber our men more than two to one?"

"Here they come, " said Shif'less Sol, pointing to the depths of theswamp, which was supposed to protect the left flank of the Wyomingforce. 

The five saw in the spaces, amid the briars and vines, scores of darkfigures leaping over the mud, naked to the breech cloth, armed withrifle and tomahawk, and rushing down upon the unprotected side of theirfoe. The swamp had been but little obstacle to them. 

Henry and his comrades gave the alarm at once. As many as possible werecalled off immediately from the main body, but they were not numerousenough to have any effect. The Indians came through the swamp inhundreds and hundreds, and, as they uttered their triumphant yell, poured a terrible fire into the Wyoming left flank. The defenders wereforced to give ground, and the English and Tories came on again. 

The fire was now deadly and of great volume. The air was filled withthe flashing of the rifles. The cloud of smoke grew heavier, and faces, either from heat or excitement, showed red through it. The air wasfilled with bullets, and the Wyoming force was being cut down fast, asthe fire of more than a thousand rifles converged upon it. 

The five at the fringe of the swamp loaded and fired as fast as theycould at the Indian horde, but they saw that it was creeping closer andcloser, and that the hail of bullets it sent in was cutting awaythe whole left flank of the defenders. They saw the tall figure ofTimmendiquas, a very god of war, leading on the Indians, with hisfearless Wyandots in a close cluster around him. Colonel John Durkee, gathering up a force of fifty or sixty, charged straight at thewarriors, but he was killed by a withering volley, which drove his menback. 

Now occurred a fatal thing, one of those misconceptions which oftendecide the fate of a battle. The company of Captain Whittlesey, on theextreme left, which was suffering most severely, was ordered to fallback. The entire little army, which was being pressed hard now, seeingthe movement of Whittlesey, began to retreat. Even without the mistakeit is likely they would have lost in the face of such numbers. 

The entire horde of Indians, Tories, Canadians, English, and renegades, uttering a tremendous yell, rushed forward. Colonel Zebulon Butler, seeing the crisis, rode up and down in front of his men, shouting:"Don't leave me, my children! the victory is ours!" Bravely his officersstrove to stop the retreat. Every captain who led a company into actionwas killed. Some of these captains were but boys. The men were fallingby dozens. 

All the Indians, by far the most formidable part of the invading force, were through the swamp now, and, dashing down their unloaded rifles, threw themselves, tomahawk in hand, upon the defense. Not more than twohundred of the Wyoming men were left standing, and the impact of sevenor eight hundred savage warriors was so great that they were hurled backin confusion. A wail of grief and terror came from the other side ofthe river, where a great body of women and children were watching thefighting. 

"The battle's lost, " said Shif'less Sol. 

"Beyond hope of saving it, " said Henry, "but, boys, we five are aliveyet, and we'll do our best to help the others protect the retreat. "

They kept under cover, fighting as calmly as they could amid such aterrible scene, picking off warrior after warrior, saving more than onesoldier ere the tomahawk fell. Shif'less Sol took a shot at "Indian"Butler, but he was too far away, and the bullet missed him. 

"I'd give five years of my life if he were fifty yards nearer, "exclaimed the shiftless one. 

But the invading force came in between and he did not get another shot. There was now a terrible medley, a continuous uproar, the crashing fireof hundreds of rifles, the shouts of the Indians, and the cries of thewounded. Over them all hovered smoke and dust, and the air was heavy, too, with the odor of burnt gunpowder. The division of old men and veryyoung boys stood next, and the Indians were upon them, tomahawk in hand, but in the face of terrible odds all bore themselves with a valor worthyof the best of soldiers. Three fourths of them died that day, beforethey were driven back on the fort. 

The Wyoming force was pushed away from the edge of the swamp, which hadbeen some protection to the left, and they were now assailed from allsides except that of the river. "Indian" Butler raged at the head of hismen, who had been driven back at first, and who had been saved by theIndians. Timmendiquas, in the absence of Brant, who was not seen uponthis field, became by valor and power of intellect the leader of all theIndians for this moment. The Iroquois, although their own fierce chiefs, I-Tiokatoo, Sangerachte, and the others fought with them, unconsciouslyobeyed him. Nor did the fierce woman, Queen Esther, shirk the battle. Waving her great tomahawk, she was continually among the warriors, singing her song of war and death. 

They were driven steadily back toward the fort, and the little bandcrumbled away beneath the deadly fire. Soon none would be left unlessthey ran for their lives. The five drew away toward the forest. Theysaw that the fort itself could not hold out against such a numerous andvictorious foe, and they had no mind to be trapped. But their retreatwas slow, and as they went they sent bullet after bullet into the Indianflank. Only a small percentage of the Wyoming force was left, and it nowbroke. Colonel Butler and Colonel Dennison, who were mounted, reachedthe fort. Some of the men jumped into the river, swam to the other shoreand escaped. Some swam to a little island called Monocacy, and hid, butthe Tories and Indians hunted them out and slew them. One Tory found hisbrother there, and killed him with his own hand, a deed of unspeakablehorror that is yet mentioned by the people of that region. A few fledinto the forest and entered the fort at night. 

CHAPTER X. THE BLOODY ROCK

Seeing that all was lost, the five drew farther away into the woods. They were not wounded, yet their faces were white despite the tan. Theyhad never before looked upon so terrible a scene. The Indians, wild withthe excitement of a great triumph and thirsting for blood, were runningover the field scalping the dead, killing some of the wounded, andsaving others for the worst of tortures. Nor were their white allies onewhit behind them. They bore a full part in the merciless war upon theconquered. Timmendiquas, the great Wyandot, was the only one to shownobility. Several of the wounded he saved from immediate death, and hetried to hold back the frenzied swarm of old squaws who rushed forwardand began to practice cruelties at which even the most veteran warriormight shudder. But Queen Esther urged them on, and "Indian" Butlerhimself and the chiefs were afraid of her. 

Henry, despite himself, despite all his experience and powers ofself-control, shuddered from head to foot at the cries that came fromthe lost field, and he was sure that the others were doing the same. Thesun was setting, but its dying light, brilliant and intense, tinged thefield as if with blood, showing all the yelling horde as the warriorsrushed about for scalps, or danced in triumph, whirling their hideoustrophies about their heads. Others were firing at men who were escapingto the far bank of the Susquehanna, and others were already seeking thefugitives in their vain hiding places on the little islet. 

The five moved farther into the forest, retreating slowly, and sendingin a shot now and then to protect the retreat of some fugitive who wasseeking the shelter of the woods. The retreat had become a rout and thena massacre. The savages raged up and down in the greatest killing theyhad known since Braddock's defeat. The lodges of the Iroquois would befull of the scalps of white men. 

All the five felt the full horror of the scene, but it made its deepestimpress, perhaps, upon Paul. He had taken part in border battles before, but this was the first great defeat. He was not blind to the valor andgood qualities of the Indian and his claim upon the wilderness, but hesaw the incredible cruelties that he could commit, and he felt a horrorof those who used him as an ally, a horror that he could never dismissfrom his mind as long as he lived. 

"Look!" he exclaimed, "look at that!"

A man of seventy and a boy of fourteen were running for the forest. Theymight have been grandfather and grandson. Undoubtedly they had foughtin the Battalion of the Very Old and the Very Young, and now, wheneverything else was lost, they were seeking to save their lives in thefriendly shelter of the woods. But they were pursued by two groups ofIroquois, four warriors in one, and three in the other, and the Indianswere gaining fast. 

"I reckon we ought to save them, " said Shif'less Sol. 

"No doubt of it, " said Henry. "Paul, you and Sol move off to the righta little, and take the three, while the rest of us will look out for thefour. "

The little band separated according to the directions, Paul and Solhaving the lighter task, as the others were to meet the group of fourIndians at closer range. Paul and Sol were behind some trees, and, turning at an angle, they ran forward to intercept the three Indians. Itwould have seemed to anyone who was not aware of the presence of friendsin the forest that the old man and the boy would surely be overtaken andbe tomahawked, but three rifles suddenly flashed among the foliage. Twoof the warriors in the group of four fell, and a third uttered a yellof pain. Paul and Shif'less Sol fired at the same time at the group ofthree. One fell before the deadly rifle of Shif'less Sol, but Paul onlygrazed his man. Nevertheless, the whole pursuit stopped, and the boyand the old man escaped to the forest, and subsequently to safety at theMoravian towns. 

Paul, watching the happy effect of the shots, was about to say somethingto Shif'less Sol, when an immense force was hurled upon him, and he wasthrown to the ground. His comrade was served in the same way, but theshiftless one was uncommonly strong and agile. He managed to writhe halfway to his knees, and he shouted in a tremendous voice:

"Run, Henry, run! You can't do anything for us now!"

Braxton Wyatt struck him fiercely across the mouth. The blood came, but the shiftless one merely spat it out, and looked curiously at therenegade. 

"I've often wondered about you, Braxton, " he said calmly. "I used tothink that anybody, no matter how bad, had some good in him, but Ireckon you ain't got none. "

Wyatt did not answer, but rushed forward in search of the others. But Henry, Silent Tom, and Long Jim had vanished. A powerful partyof warriors had stolen upon Shif'less Sol and Paul, while they wereabsorbed in the chase of the old man and the boy, and now they wereprisoners, bound securely. Braxton Wyatt came back from the fruitlesssearch for the three, but his face was full of savage joy as he lookeddown at the captured two. 

"We could have killed you just as easily, " he said, "but we didn'twant to do that. Our friends here are going to have their fun with youfirst. "

Paul's cheeks whitened a little at the horrible suggestion, butShif'less Sol faced them boldly. Several white men in uniform had comeup, and among them was an elderly one, short and squat, and with a greatflame colored handkerchief tied around his bead. 

"You may burn us alive, or you may do other things jest ez bad to us, all under the English flag, " said Shif'less Sol, "but I'm thinkin' thata lot o' people in England will be ashamed uv it when they hear thenews. "

"Indian" Butler and his uniformed soldiers turned away, leavingShif'less Sol and Paul in the hands of the renegade and the Iroquois. The two prisoners were jerked to their feet and told to march. 

"Come on, Paul, " said Shif'less Sol. "'Tain't wuth while fur us toresist. But don't you quit hopin', Paul. We've escaped from many a tightcorner, an' mebbe we're goin' to do it ag'in. "

"Shut up!" said Braxton Wyatt savagely. "If you say another word I'llgag you in a way that will make you squirm. "

Shif'less Sol looked him squarely in the eye. Solomon Hyde, who was notshiftless at all, had a dauntless soul, and he was not afraid now in theface of death preceded by long torture. 

"I had a dog once, Braxton Wyatt, " he said, "an' I reckon he wuz themeanest, ornierest cur that ever lived. He liked to live on dirt, thedirtier the place he could find the better; he'd rather steal his foodthan get it honestly; he wuz sech a coward that he wuz afeard o' arabbit, but ef your back wuz turned to him he'd nip you in the ankle. But bad ez that dog wuz, Braxton, he wuz a gentleman 'longside o' you. "

Some of the Indians understood English, and Wyatt knew it. He snatcheda pistol from his belt, and was about to strike Sol with the butt of it, but a tall figure suddenly appeared before him, and made a commandinggesture. The gesture said plainly: "Do not strike; put that pistolback!" Braxton Wyatt, whose soul was afraid within him, did not strike, and he put the pistol back. 

It was Timmendiquas, the great White Lightning of the Wyandots, whowith his little detachment had proved that day how mighty the Wyandotwarriors were, full equals of Thayendanegea's Mohawks, the Keepers ofthe Western Gate. He was bare to the waist. One shoulder was streakedwith blood from a slight wound, but his countenance was not on fire withpassion for torture and slaughter like those of the others. 

"There is no need to strike prisoners, " he said in English. "Their fatewill be decided later. "

Paul thought that he caught a look of pity from the eyes of the greatWyandot, and Shif'less Sol said:

"I'm sorry, Timmendiquas, since I had to be captured, that you didn'tcapture me yourself. I'm glad to say that you're a great warrior. "

Wyatt growled under his breath, but he was still afraid to speak out, although he knew that Timmendiquas was merely a distant and casual ally, and had little authority in that army. Yet he was overawed, and so werethe Indians with him. 

"We were merely taking the prisoners to Colonel Butler, " he said. "Thatis all. "

Timmendiquas stared at him, and the renegade's face fell. But he and theIndians went on with the prisoners, and Timmendiquas looked after themuntil they were out of sight. 

"I believe White Lightning was sorry that we'd been captured, " whisperedShif'less Sol. 

"I think so, too, " Paul whispered back. 

They had no chance for further conversation, as they were driven rapidlynow to that point of the battlefield which lay nearest to the fort, and here they were thrust into the midst of a gloomy company, fellowcaptives, all bound tightly, and many wounded. No help, no treatment ofany kind was offered for hurts. The Indians and renegades stood aboutand yelled with delight when the agony of some man's wound wrung fromhim a groan. The scene was hideous in every respect. The setting sunshone blood red over forest, field, and river. Far off burning housesstill smoked like torches. But the mountain wall in the east, wasgrowing dusky with the coming twilight. From the island, where they weremassacring the fugitives in their vain hiding places, came the soundof shots and cries, but elsewhere the firing had ceased. All who couldescape had done so already, and of the others, those who were dead werefortunate. 

The sun sank like a red ball behind the mountains, and darkness sweptdown over the earth. Fires began to blaze up here and there, some forterrible purpose. The victorious Iroquois; stripped to the waist andpainted in glaring colors, joined in a savage dance that would remainforever photographed on the eye of Paul Cotter. As they jumped to andfro, hundreds of them, waving aloft tomahawks and scalping knives, bothof which dripped red, they sang their wild chant of war and triumph. White men, too, as savage as they, joined them. Paul shuddered againand again from head to foot at this sight of an orgy such as the mass ofmankind escapes, even in dreams. 

The darkness thickened, the dance grew wilder. It was like a carnivalof demons, but it was to be incited to a yet wilder pitch. A singularfigure, one of extraordinary ferocity, was suddenly projected into themidst of the whirling crowd, and a chant, shriller and fiercer, roseabove all the others. The figure was that of Queen Esther, like somemonstrous creature out of a dim past, her great tomahawk stained withblood, her eyes bloodshot, and stains upon her shoulders. Paul wouldhave covered his eyes had his hands not been tied instead, he turned hishead away. He could not bear to see more. But the horrible chant came tohis ears, nevertheless, and it was reinforced presently by other soundsstill more terrible. Fires sprang up in the forest, and cries came fromthese fires. The victorious army of "Indian" Butler was beginning toburn the prisoners alive. But at this point we must stop. The detailsof what happened around those fires that night are not for the ordinaryreader. It suffices to say that the darkest deed ever done on the soilof what is now the United States was being enacted. 

Shif'less Sol himself, iron of body and soul, was shaken. He could notclose his ears, if he would, to the cries that came from the fires, buthe shut his eyes to keep out the demon dance. Nevertheless, he openedthem again in a moment. The horrible fascination was too great. He sawQueen Esther still shaking her tomahawk, but as he looked she suddenlydarted through the circle, warriors willingly giving way before her, anddisappeared in the darkness. The scalp dance went on, but it had lostsome of its fire and vigor. 

Shif'less Sol felt relieved. 

"She's gone, " he whispered to Paul, and the boy, too, then opened hiseyes. The rest of it, the mad whirlings and jumpings of the warriors, was becoming a blur before him, confused and without meaning. 

Neither he nor Shif'less Sol knew how long they had been sitting thereon the ground, although it had grown yet darker, when Braxton Wyattthrust a violent foot against the shiftless one and cried:

"Get up! You're wanted!"

A half dozen Seneca warriors were with him, and there was no chance ofresistance. The two rose slowly to their feet, and walked where BraxtonWyatt led. The Senecas came on either side, and close behind them, tomahawks in their hands. Paul, the sensitive, who so often felt theimpression of coming events from the conditions around him, was surethat they were marching to their fate. Death he did not fear so greatly, although he did not want to die, but when a shriek came to him from oneof the fires that convulsive shudder shook him again from head to foot. Unconsciously he strained at his bound arms, not for freedom, but thathe might thrust his fingers in his ears and shut out the awful sounds. Shif'less Sol, because he could not use his hands, touched his shouldergently against Paul's. 

"Paul, " he whispered, "I ain't sure that we're goin' to die, leastways, I still have hope; but ef we do, remember that we don't have to die butoncet. "

"I'll remember, Sol, " Paul whispered back. 

"Silence, there!" exclaimed Braxton Wyatt. But the two had said all theywanted to say, and fortunately their senses were somewhat dulled. Theyhad passed through so much that they were like those who are under theinfluence of opiates. The path was now dark, although both torches andfires burned in the distance. Presently they heard that chant with whichthey had become familiar, the dreadful notes of the hyena woman, andthey knew that they were being taken into her presence, for what purposethey could not tell, although they were sure that it was a bitter one. As they approached, the woman's chant rose to an uncommon pitch offrenzy, and Paul felt the blood slowly chilling within him. 

"Get up there!" exclaimed Braxton Wyatt, and the Senecas gave them botha push. Other warriors who were standing at the edge of an open spaceseized them and threw them forward with much violence. When theystruggled into a sitting position, they saw Queen Esther standing upon abroad flat rock and whirling in a ghastly dance that had in it somethingOriental. She still swung the great war hatchet that seemed always to bein her hand. Her long black hair flew wildly about her head, and her reddress gleamed in the dusk. Surely no more terrible image ever appearedin the American wilderness! In front of her, lying upon the ground, weretwenty bound Americans, and back of them were Iroquois in dozens, with asprinkling of their white allies. 

What it all meant, what was about to come to pass, nether Paul norShif'less Sol could guess, but Queen Esther sang:

 We have found them, the Yengees Who built their houses in the valley, They came forth to meet us in battle, Our rifles and tomahawks cut them down, As the Yengees lay low the forest. Victory and glory Aieroski gives to his children, The Mighty Six Nations, greatest of men. 

 There will be feasting in the lodges of the Iroquois, And scalps will hang on the high ridge pole, But wolves will roam where the Yengees dwelt And will gnaw the bones of them all, Of the man, the woman, and the child. Victory and glory Aieroski gives to his children, The Mighty Six Nations, greatest of men. 

Such it sounded to Shif'less Sol, who knew the tongue of the Iroquois, and so it went on, verse after verse, and at the end of each verse camethe refrain, in which the warriors joined:

"Victory and glory Aieroski gives to his children. The mighty SixNations, greatest of men. "

"What under the sun is she about?" whispered Shif'less Sol. 

"It is a fearful face, " was Paul's only reply. 

Suddenly the woman, without stopping her chant, made a gesture tothe warriors. Two powerful Senecas seized one of the bound prisoners, dragged him to his feet, and held him up before her. She uttered ashout, whirled the great tomahawk about her head, its blade glitteringin the moonlight, and struck with all her might. The skull of theprisoner was cleft to the chin, and without a cry he fell at the feet ofthe woman who had killed him. Paul uttered a shout of horror, but itwas lost in the joyful yells of the Iroquois, who, at the command of thewoman, offered a second victim. Again the tomahawk descended, and againa man fell dead without a sound. 

Shif'less Sol and Paul wrenched at their thongs, but they could not movethem. Braxton Wyatt laughed aloud. It was strange to see how fast onewith a bad nature could fall when the opportunities were spread beforehim. Now he was as cruel as the Indians themselves. Wilder and shrillergrew the chant of the savage queen. She was intoxicated with blood. Shesaw it everywhere. Her tomahawk clove a third skull, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, a seventh, and eighth. As fast as they fell the warriors at hercommand brought up new victims for her weapon. Paul shut his eyes, buthe knew by the sounds what was passing. Suddenly a stern voice cried:

"Hold, woman! Enough of this! Will your tomahawk never be satisfied?"

Paul understood it, the meaning, but not the words. He opened his eyesand saw the great figure of Timmendiquas striding forward, his handupraised in protest. 

The woman turned her fierce gaze upon the young chief. "Timmendiquas, "she said, "we are the Iroquois, and we are the masters. You are far fromyour own land, a guest in our lodges, and you cannot tell those who havewon the victory how they shall use it. Stand back!"

A loud laugh came from the Iroquois. The fierce old chiefs, Hiokatoo andSangerachte, and a dozen warriors thrust themselves before Timmendiquas. The woman resumed her chant, and a hundred throats pealed out with herthe chorus:

Victory and glory Aieroski gives to his children The mighty Six Nations, greatest of men. 

She gave the signal anew. The ninth victim stood before her, and thenfell, cloven to the chin; then the tenth, and the eleventh, and thetwelfth, and the thirteenth, and the fourteenth, and the fifteenth, andthe sixteenth-sixteen bound men killed by one woman in less than fifteenminutes. The four in that group who were left had all the while beenstraining fearfully at their bonds. Now they had slipped or brokenthem, and, springing to their feet, driven on by the mightiest of humanimpulses, they dashed through the ring of Iroquois and into the forest. Two were hunted down by the warriors and killed, but the other two, Joseph Elliott and Lebbeus Hammond, escaped and lived to be old men, feeling that life could never again hold for them anything so dreadfulas that scene at "The Bloody Rock. "

A great turmoil and confusion arose as the prisoners fled and theIndians pursued. Paul and Shif'less Sol; full of sympathy and pity forthe fugitives and having felt all the time that their turn, too, wouldcome under that dreadful tomahawk, struggled to their feet. They didnot see a form slip noiselessly behind them, but a sharp knife descendedonce, then twice, and the bands of both fell free. 

"Run! run!" exclaimed the voice of Timmendiquas, low but penetrating. "Iwould save you from this!"

Amid the darkness and confusion the act of the great Wyandot was notseen by the other Indians and the renegades. Paul flashed him one lookof gratitude, and then he and Shif'less Sol darted away, choosing acourse that led them from the crowd in pursuit of the other flyingfugitives. 

At such a time they might have secured a long lead without beingnoticed, had it not been for the fierce swarm of old squaws who werefirst in cruelty that night. A shrill wild howl arose, and the pointingfingers of the old women showed to the warriors the two in flight. Atthe same time several of the squaws darted forward to intercept thefugitives. 

"I hate to hit a woman, " breathed Shif'less Sol to Paul, "but I'm goin'to do it now. "

A hideous figure sprang before them. Sol struck her face with his openhand, and with a shriek she went down. He leaped over her, althoughshe clawed at his feet as he passed, and ran on, with Paul at his side. Shots were now fired at him, but they went wild, but Paul, casting alook backward out of the corner of his eye, saw that a real pursuit, silent and deadly, had begun. Five Mohawk warriors, running swiftly, were only a few hundred yards away. They carried rifle, tomahawk, andknife, and Paul and Shif'less Sol were unarmed. Moreover, they werecoming fast, spreading out slightly, and the shiftless one, able evenat such a time to weigh the case coolly, saw that the odds were againstthem. Yet he would not despair. Anything might happen. It was night. There was little organization in the army of the Indians and of theirwhite allies, which was giving itself up to the enjoyment of scalps andtorture. Moreover, he and Paul were, animated by the love of life, whichis always stronger than the desire to give death. 

Their flight led them in a diagonal line toward the mountains. Only oncedid the pursuers give tongue. Paul tripped over a root, and a triumphantyell came from the Mohawks. But it merely gave him new life. Herecovered himself in an instant and ran faster. But it was terribly hardwork. He could hear Shif'less Sol's sobbing breath by his side, and hewas sure that his own must have the same sound for his comrade. 

"At any rate one uv 'em is beat, " gasped Shif'less Sol. "Only four areban-in' on now. "

The ground rose a little and became rougher. The lights from the Indianfires had sunk almost out of sight behind them, and a dense thicket laybefore them. Something stirred in the thicket, and the eyes of Shif'lessSol caught a glimpse of a human shoulder. His heart sank like a plummetin a pool. The Indians were ahead of them. They would be caught, andwould be carried back to become the victims of the terrible tomahawk. 

The figure in the bushes rose a little higher, the muzzle of a rifle wasprojected, and flame leaped from the steel tube. 

But it was neither Shif'less Sol nor Paul who fell. They heard a crybehind them, and when Shif'less Sol took a hasty glance backward he sawone of the Mohawks fall. The three who were left hesitated and stopped. When a second shot was fired from the bushes and another Mohawk wentdown, the remaining two fled. 

Shif'less Sol understood now, and he rushed into the bushes, draggingPaul after him. Henry, Tom, and Long Jim rose up to receive them. 

"So you wuz watchin' over us!" exclaimed the shiftless one joyously. "Itwuz you that clipped off the first Mohawk, an' we didn't even notice theshot. "

"Thank God, you were here!" exclaimed Paul. "You don't know what Sol andI have seen!"

Overwrought, he fell forward, but his comrades caught him. 

CHAPTER XI. THE MELANCHOLY FLIGHT

Paul revived in a few minutes. They were still lying in the bushes, and when he was able to stand up again, they moved at an angle severalhundred yards before they stopped. One pistol was thrust into Paul'shand and another into that of Shif'less Sol. 

"Keep those until we can get rifles for you, " said Henry. "You may need'em to-night. "

They crouched down in the thicket and looked back toward the Indiancamp. The warriors whom they had repulsed were not returning with help, and, for the moment, they seemed to have no enemy to fear, yet theycould still see through the woods the faint lights of the Indian camps, and to Paul, at least, came the echoes of distant cries that told ofthings not to be written. 

"We saw you captured, and we heard Sol's warning cry, " said Henry. "There was nothing to do but run. Then we hid and waited a chance forrescue. "

"It would never have come if it had not been for Timmendiquas, " saidPaul. 

"Timmendiquas!" exclaimed Henry. 

"Yes, Timmendiquas, " said Paul, and then he told the story of "TheBloody Rock, " and how, in the turmoil and excitement attending theflight of the last four, Timmendiquas had cut the bonds of Shif'less Soland himself. 

"I think the mind o' White Lightnin', Injun ez he is, " said Shif'lessSol, "jest naterally turned aginst so much slaughter an' torture o'prisoners. "

"I'm sure you're right, " said Henry. 

"'Pears strange to me, " said Long Jim Hart, "that Timmendiquas was madean Injun. He's jest the kind uv man who ought to be white, an' he'd bepow'ful useful, too. I don't jest eggzactly understan' it. "

"He has certainly saved the lives of at least three of us, " said Henry. "I hope we will get a chance to pay him back in full. "

"But he's the only one, " said Shif'less Sol, thinking of all that he hadseen that night. "The Iroquois an' the white men that's allied with 'emwon't ever get any mercy from me, ef any uv 'em happen to come undermy thumb. I don't think the like o' this day an' night wuz ever done onthis continent afore. I'm for revenge, I am, like that place where theBible says, 'an eye for an eye, an' a tooth for a tooth, ' an' I'm goin'to stay in this part o' the country till we git it!"

It was seldom that Shif'less Sol spoke with so much passion and energy. 

"We're all going to stay with you, Sol, " said Henry. "We're needed here. I think we ought to circle about the fort, slip in if we can, and fightwith the defense. "

"Yes, we'll do that, " said Shif'less Sol, "but the Wyoming fort can'tever hold out. Thar ain't a hundred men left in it fit to fight, an'thar are more than than a thousand howlin' devils outside ready toattack it. Thar may be worse to come than anything we've yet seen. "

"Still, we'll go in an' help, " said Henry. "Sol, when you an' Paul haverested a little longer we'll make a big loop around in the woods, andcome up to the fort on the other side. "

They were in full accord, and after an hour in the bushes, where theylay completely hidden, recovering their vitality and energy, theyundertook to reach the fort and cabins inclosed by the palisades. Paul was still weak from shock, but Shif'less Sol had fully recovered. Neither bad weapons, but they were sure that the want could be suppliedsoon. They curved around toward the west, intending to approach the fortfrom the other side, but they did not wholly lose sight of the fires, and they heard now and then the triumphant war whoop. The victors werestill engaged in the pleasant task of burning the prisoners to death. Little did the five, seeing and feeling only their part of it there inthe dark woods, dream that the deeds of this day and night would soonshock the whole civilized world, and remain, for generations, a crowningact of infamy. But they certainly felt it deeply enough, and in eachheart burned a fierce desire for revenge upon the Iroquois. 

It was almost midnight when they secured entrance into the fort, whichwas filled with grief and wailing. That afternoon more than one hundredand fifty women within those walls had been made widows, and six hundredchildren had been made orphans. But few men fit to bear arms were leftfor its defense, and it was certain that the allied British and Indianarmy would easily take it on the morrow. A demand for its surrenderin the name of King George III of England had already been made, and, sitting at a little rough table in the cabin of Thomas Bennett, theroom lighted only by a single tallow wick, Colonel Butler and ColonelDennison were writing an agreement that the fort be surrendered the nextday, with what it should contain. But Colonel Butler put his wife on ahorse and escaped with her over the mountains. 

Stragglers, evading the tomahawk in the darkness, were coming in, onlyto be surrendered the next day; others were pouring forth in a stream, seeking the shelter of the mountains and the forest, preferring anydangers that might be found there to the mercies of the victors. 

When Shif'less Sol learned that the fort was to be given up, he said:

"It looks ez ef we had escaped from the Iroquois jest in time to beg 'emto take us back. "

"I reckon I ain't goin' to stay 'roun' here while things are bein'surrendered, " said Long Jim Hart. 

"I'll do my surrenderin' to Iroquois when they've got my hands an' feettied, an' six or seven uv 'em are settin' on my back, " said Tom Ross. 

"We'll leave as soon as we can get arms for Sol and Paul, " said Henry. "Of course it would be foolish of us to stay here and be captured again. Besides, we'll be needed badly enough by the women and children that aregoing. "

Good weapons were easily obtained in the fort. It was far better to letSol and Paul have them than to leave them for the Indians. They wereable to select two fine rifles of the Kentucky pattern, long andslender barreled, a tomahawk and knife for each, and also excellentdouble-barreled pistols. The other three now had double-barreledpistols, too. In addition they resupplied themselves with as muchammunition as scouts and hunters could conveniently carry, and towardmorning left the fort. 

Sunrise found them some distance from the palisades, and upon the flankof a frightened crowd of fugitives. It was composed of one hundred womenand children and a single man, James Carpenter, who was doing his bestto guide and protect them. They were intending to flee through thewilderness to the Delaware and Lehigh settlements, chiefly Fort Penn, built by Jacob Stroud, where Stroudsburg now is. 

When the five, darkened by weather and looking almost like Indiansthemselves, approached, Carpenter stepped forward and raised his rifle. A cry of dismay rose from the melancholy line, a cry so intensely bitterthat it cut Henry to the very heart. He threw up his hand, and exclaimedin a loud voice:

"We are friends, not Indians or Tories! We fought with you yesterday, and we are ready to fight for you now!"

Carpenter dropped the muzzle of the rifle. He had fought in the battle, too, and he recognized the great youth and his comrades who had beenthere with him. 

"What do you want of us?" asked he. 

"Nothing, " replied Henry, "except to help you. "

Carpenter looked at them with a kind of sad pathos. 

"You don't belong here in Wyoming, " he said, "and there's nothing tomake you stick to us. What are you meaning to do?"

"We will go with you wherever you intend to go, " replied Henry; "dofighting for you if you need it, and hunt game for you, which you arecertain to need. "

The weather-beaten face of the farmer worked. 

"I thought God had clean deserted us, " he said, "but I'm ready to takeit back. I reckon that he has sent you five to help me with all thesewomen and little ones. "

It occurred to Henry that perhaps God, indeed, had sent them for thisvery purpose, but he replied simply:

"You lead on, and we'll stay in the rear and on the sides to watch forthe Indians. Draw into the woods, where we'll be hidden. "

Carpenter, obscure hero, shouldered his rifle again, and led on towardthe woods. The long line of women and children followed. Some of thewomen carried in their arms children too small to walk. Yet they weremore hopeful now when they saw that the five were friends. These lithe, active frontiersmen, so quick, so skillful, and so helpful, raised theircourage. Yet it was a most doleful flight. Most of these women hadbeen made widows the day before, some of them had been made widows andchildless at the same time, and wondered why they should seek to livelonger. But the very mental stupor of many of them was an aid. Theyceased to cry out, and some even ceased to be afraid. 

Henry, Shif'less Sol, and Tom dropped to the rear. Paul and LongJim were on either flank, while Carpenter led slowly on toward themountains. 

"'Pears to me, " said Tom, "that the thing fur us to do is to hurry 'emup ez much ez possible. "

"So the Indians won't see 'em crossing the plain, " said Henry. "Wecouldn't defend them against a large force, and it would merely be amassacre. We must persuade them to walk faster. "

Shif'less Sol was invaluable in this crisis. He could talk forever inhis-placid way, and, with his gentle encouragement, mild sarcasm, andanecdotes of great feminine walkers that he had known, he soon had themmoving faster. 

Henry and Tom dropped farther to the rear. They could see ahead of themthe long dark line, coiling farther into the woods, but they couldalso see to right and left towers of smoke rising in the clear morningsunlight. These, they knew, came from burning houses, and they knew, also, that the valley would be ravaged from end to end and from sideto side. After the surrender of the fort the Indians would divide intosmall bands, going everywhere, and nothing could escape them. 

The sun rose higher, gilding the earth with glowing light, as if theblack tragedy had never happened, but the frontiersmen recognized theirgreatest danger in this brilliant morning. Objects could be seen at agreat distance, and they could be seen vividly. 

Keen of sight and trained to know what it was they saw, Henry, Sol, andTom searched the country with their eyes, on all sides. They caught adistant glimpse of the Susquehanna, a silver spot among some trees, andthey saw the sunlight glancing off the opposite mountains, but for thepresent they saw nothing that seemed hostile. 

They allowed the distance between them and the retreating file to growuntil it was five or six hundred yards, and they might have let it growfarther, but Henry made a signal, and the three lay down in the grass. 

"You see 'em, don't you!" the youth whispered to his comrade. 

"Yes, down thar at the foot o' that hillock, " replied Shif'less Sol;"two o' em, an' Senecas, I take it. "

"They've seen that crowd of women and children, " said Henry. 

It was obvious that the flying column was discovered. The two Indiansstepped upon the hillock and gazed under their hands. It was too faraway for the three to see their faces, but they knew the joy that wouldbe shown there. The two could return with a few warriors and massacrethem all. 

"They must never get back to the other Indians with their news, "whispered Henry. "I hate to shoot men from ambush, but it's got to bedone. Wait, they're coming a little closer. "

The two Senecas advanced about thirty yards, and stopped again. 

"S'pose you fire at the one on the right, Henry, " said Tom, "an' me an'Sol will take the one to the left. "

"All right, " said Henry. "Fire!"

They wasted no time, but pulled trigger. The one at whom Henry had aimedfell, but the other, uttering a cry, made off, wounded, but evidentlywith plenty of strength left. 

"We mustn't let him escape! We mustn't let him carry a warning!" criedHenry. 

But Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross were already in pursuit, covering theground with long strides, and reloading as they ran. Under ordinarycircumstances no one of the three would have fired at a man running forhis life, but here the necessity was vital. If he lived, carrying thetale that he had to tell, a hundred innocent ones might perish. Henryfollowed his comrades, reloading his own rifle, also, but he stayedbehind. The Indian had a good lead, and he was gaining, as the otherswere compelled to check speed somewhat as they put the powder andbullets in their rifles. But Henry was near enough to Shif'less Sol andSilent Tom to hear them exchange a few words. 

"How far away is that savage?" asked Shif'less Sol. 

"Hundred and eighty yards, " said Tom Ross. 

"Well, you take him in the head, and I'll take him in the body. "

Henry saw the two rifle barrels go up and two flashes of flame leap fromthe muzzles. The Indian fell forward and lay still. They went up to him, and found that he was shot through the head and also through the body. 

"We may miss once, but we don't twice, " said Tom Ross. 

The human mind can be influenced so powerfully by events that the threefelt no compunction at all at the shooting of this fleeing Indian. Itwas but a trifle compared with what they had seen the day and nightbefore. 

"We'd better take the weapons an' ammunition o' both uv 'em, " said Sol. "They may be needed, an' some o' the women in that crowd kin shoot. "

They gathered up the arms, powder, and ball, and waited a little to seewhether the shots had been heard by any other Indians, but there wasno indication of the presence of more warriors, and the rejoined thefugitives. Long Jim had dropped back to the end of the line, and when hesaw that his comrades carried two extra rifles, he understood. 

"They didn't give no alarm, did they?" he asked in a tone so low thatnone of the fugitives could hear. 

"They didn't have any chance, " replied Henry. "We've brought away alltheir weapons and ammunition, but just say to the women that we foundthem in an abandoned house. "

The rifles and the other arms were given to the boldest and moststalwart of the women, and they promised to use them if the need came. Meanwhile the flight went on, and the farther it went the sadder itbecame. Children became exhausted, and had to be carried by people sotired that they could scarcely walk themselves. There was nobody in theline who had not lost some beloved one on that fatal river bank, killedin battle, or tortured to death. As they slowly ascended the green slopeof the mountain that inclosed a side of the valley, they looked backupon ruin and desolation. The whole black tragedy was being consummated. They could see the houses in flames, and they knew that the Indian warparties were killing and scalping everywhere. They knew, too, that otherbodies of fugitives, as stricken as their own, were fleeing into themountains, they scarcely knew whither. 

As they paused a few moments and looked back, a great cry burst fromthe weakest of the women and children. Then it became a sad and terriblewail, and it was a long time before it ceased. It was an awful sound, socompounded of despair and woe and of longing for what they had lost thatHenry choked, and the tears stood in Paul's eyes. But neither the fivenor Carpenter made any attempt to check the wailing. They thought itbest for them to weep it out, but they hurried the column as much asthey could, often carrying some of the smaller children themselves. Pauland Long Jim were the best as comforters. The two knew how, each in hisown way, to soothe and encourage. Carpenter, who knew the way to FortPenn, led doggedly on, scarcely saying a word. Henry, Shif'less Sol, andTom were the rear guard, which was, in this case, the one of greatestdanger and responsibility. 

Henry was thankful that it was only early summer the Fourth of July, the second anniversary of the Declaration of Independence-and that thefoliage was heavy and green on the slopes of the mountain. In thismass of greenery the desolate column was now completely hidden from anyobserver in the valley, and he believed that other crowds of fugitiveswould be hidden in the same manner. He felt sure that no living humanbeing would be left in the valley, that it would be ravaged from end toend and then left to desolation, until new people, protected by Americanbayonets, should come in and settle it again. 

At last they passed the crest of the ridge, and the fires in the valley, those emblems of destruction, were hidden. Between them and Fort Penn, sixty miles away, stretched a wilderness of mountain, forest, and swamp. But the five welcomed the forest. A foe might lie there in ambush, butthey could not see the fugitives at a distance. What the latter needednow was obscurity, the green blanket of the forest to hide them. Carpenter led on over a narrow trail; the others followed almost insingle file now, while the five scouted in the woods on either flank andat the rear. Henry and Shif'less Sol generally kept together, and theyfully realized the overwhelming danger should an Indian band, even assmall as ten or a dozen warriors, appear. Should the latter scatter, it would be impossible to protect all the women and children from theirtomahawks. 

The day was warm, but the forest gave them coolness as well as shelter. Henry and Sol were seldom so far back that they could not see the endof the melancholy line, now moving slowly, overborne by weariness. Theshiftless one shook his head sadly. 

"No matter what happens, some uv 'em will never get out o' these woods. "

His words came true all too soon. Before the afternoon closed, twowomen, ill before the flight, died of terror and exhaustion, and wereburied in shallow graves under the trees. Before dark a halt was made atthe suggestion of Henry, and all except Carpenter and the scouts sat ina close, drooping group. Many of the children cried, though the womenhad all ceased to weep. They had some food with them, taken in thehurried flight, and now the men asked them to eat. Few could do it, andothers insisted on saving what little they had for the children. LongJim found a spring near by, and all drank at it. 

The six men decided that, although night had not yet come, it would bebest to remain there until the morning. Evidently the fugitives were inno condition, either mental or physical, to go farther that day, and therest was worth more than the risk. 

When this decision was announced to them, most of the women took itapathetically. Soon they lay down upon a blanket, if one was to be had;otherwise, on leaves and branches. Again Henry thanked God that it wassummer, and that these were people of the frontier, who could sleep inthe open. No fire was needed, and, outside of human enemies, only rainwas to be dreaded. 

And yet this band, desperate though its case, was more fortunate thansome of the others that fled from the Wyoming Valley. It had now toprotect it six men Henry and Paul, though boys in years, were men instrength and ability--five of whom were the equals of any frontiersmenon the whole border. Another crowd of women was escorted by a single manthroughout its entire flight. 

Henry and his comrades distributed themselves in a circle about thegroup. At times they helped gather whortleberries as food for theothers, but they looked for Indians or game, intending to shoot ineither case. When Paul and Henry were together they once heard a lightsound in a thicket, which at first they were afraid was made by anIndian scout, but it was a deer, and it bounded away too soon for eitherto get a shot. They could not find other game of any kind, and they cameback toward the camp-if a mere stop in the woods, without shelter of anykind, could be called a camp. 

The sun was now setting, blood red. It tinged the forest with a fierymist, reminding the unhappy group of all that they had seen. But themist was gone in a few moments, and then the blackness of night camewith a weird moaning wind that told of desolation. Most of the children, having passed through every phase of exhaustion and terror, had fallenasleep. Some of the women slept, also, and others wept. But the terriblewailing note, which the nerves of no man could stand, was heard nolonger. 

The five gathered again at a point near by, and Carpenter came to them. 

"Men, " he said simply, "don't know much about you, though I know youfought well in the battle that we lost, but for what you're doin' nownobody can ever repay you. I knew that I never could get across themountains with all these weak ones. "

The five merely said that any man who was a man would help at such atime. Then they resumed their march in a perpetual circle about thecamp. 

Some women did not sleep at all that night. It is not easy to conceivewhat the frontier women of America endured so many thousands of times. They had seen their husbands, brothers, and sons killed in the battle, and they knew that the worst of torture had been practiced in the Indiancamp. Many of them really did not want to live any longer. They merelystruggled automatically for life. The darkness settled down thicker andthicker; the blackness in the forest was intense, and they could see thefaces of one another only at a little distance. The desolate moan of thewind came through the leaves, and, although it was July, the night grewcold. The women crept closer together, trying to cover up and protectthe children. The wind, with its inexpressibly mournful note, wasexactly fitted to their feelings. Many of them wondered why a SupremeBeing had permitted such things. But they ceased to talk. No sound atall came from the group, and any one fifty yards away, not forewarned, could not have told that they were there. 

Henry and Paul met again about midnight, and sat a long time on alittle hillock. Theirs had been the most dangerous of lives on the mostdangerous of frontiers, but they had never been stirred as they weretonight. Even Paul, the mildest of the five, felt something burningwithin him, a fire that only one thing could quench. 

"Henry, " said he, "we're trying to get these people to Fort Penn, andwe may get some of them there, but I don't think our work will be endedthem. I don't think I could ever be happy again if we went straight fromFort Penn to Kentucky. "

Henry understood him perfectly. 

"No, Paul, " he said, "I don't want to go, either, and I know the othersdon't. Maybe you are not willing to tell why we want to stay, but it isvengeance. I know it's Christian to forgive your enemies, but I can'tsee what I have seen, and hear what I have heard, and do it. "

"When the news of these things spreads, " said Paul, "they'll send anarmy from the east. Sooner or later they'll just have to do it to punishthe Iroquois and their white allies, and we've got to be here to jointhat army. "

"I feel that way, too, Paul, " said Henry. 

They were joined later by the other three, who stayed a little while, and they were in accord with Henry and Paul. 

Then they began their circles about the camp again, always looking andalways listening. About two o'clock in the morning they heard a scream, but it was only the cry of a panther. Before day there were clouds, alow rumble of distant thunder, and faint far flashes of lightning. Henrywas in dread of rain, but the lightning and thunder ceased, and theclouds went away. Then dawn came, rosy and bright, and all but threerose from the earth. The three-one woman and two children-had died insilence in the night, and they were buried, like the others, in shallowgraves in the woods. But there was little weeping or external mourningover them. All were now heavy and apathetic, capable of but little moreemotion. 

Carpenter resumed his position at the head of the column, which nowmoved slowly over the mountain through a thick forest matted withvines and bushes and without a path. The march was now so painfuland difficult that they did not make more than two miles an hour. Thestronger of them helped the men to gather more whortleberries, as it waseasy to see that the food they had with them would never last until theyreached Fort Penn, should they ever reach it. 

The condition of the country into which they had entered steadily grewworse. They were well into the mountains, a region exceedingly wild andrough, but little known to the settlers, who had gone around it to buildhomes in the fertile and beautiful valley of Wyoming. The heavy forestwas made all the more difficult by the presence everywhere of almostimpassable undergrowth. Now and then a woman lay down under the bushes, and in two cases they died there because the power to live was no longerin them. They grew weaker and weaker. The food that they had broughtfrom the Wyoming fort was almost exhausted, and the wild whortleberrieswere far from sustaining. Fortunately there was plenty of waterflowing tinder the dark woods and along the mountainside. But they werecompelled to stop at intervals of an hour or two to rest, and the moretimid continually expected Indian ambush. 

The five met shortly after noon and took another reckoning of thesituation. They still realized to the full the dangers of Indianpursuit, which in this case might be a mere matter of accident. Anybodycould follow the broad trail left by the fugitives, but the Iroquois, busy with destruction in the valley, might not follow, even if theysaw it. No one could tell. The danger of starvation or of death fromexhaustion was more imminent, more pressing, and the five resolved tolet scouting alone for the rest of the day and seek game. 

"There's bound to be a lot of it in these woods, " said Shif'less Sol, "though it's frightened out of the path by our big crowd, but we oughtto find it. "

Henry and Shif'less Sol went in one direction, and Paul, Tom, and LongJim in another. But with all their hunting they succeeded in findingonly one little deer, which fell to the rifle of Silent Tom. It madesmall enough portions for the supper and breakfast of nearly a hundredpeople, but it helped wonderfully, and so did the fires which Henry andhis comrades would now have built, even had they not been needed for thecooking. They saw that light and warmth, the light and warmth of glowingcoals, would alone rouse life in this desolate band. 

They slept the second night on the ground among the trees, and the nextmorning they entered that gloomy region of terrible memory, the GreatDismal Swamp of the North, known sometimes, to this day, as "The Shadesof Death. "

CHAPTER XII. THE SHADES OF DEATH

"The Shades of Death" is a marsh on a mountain top, the great, wet, andsoggy plain of the Pocono and Broad mountains. When the fugitives fromWyoming entered it, it was covered with a dense growth of pines, growingmostly out of dark, murky water, which in its turn was thick with agrowth of moss and aquatic plants. Snakes and all kinds of creepingthings swarmed in the ooze. Bear and panther were numerous. 

Carpenter did not know any way around this terrible region, and theywere compelled to enter it. Henry was again devoutly thankful thatit was summer. In such a situation with winter on top of it only thehardiest of men could survive. 

But they entered the swamp, Carpenter silent and dogged, still leading. Henry and his comrades kept close to the crowd. One could not scout insuch a morass, and it proved to be worse than they had feared. The dayturned gray, and it was dark among the trees. The whole place was filledwith gloomy shadows. It was often impossible to judge whether fairlysolid soil or oozy murk lay before them. Often they went down to theirwaists. Sometimes the children fell and were dragged up again by thestronger. Now and then rattle snakes coiled and hissed, and the womenkilled them with sticks. Other serpents slipped away in the slime. Everybody was plastered with mud, and they became mere images of humanbeings. 

In the afternoon they reached a sort of oasis in the terrible swamp, and there they buried two more of their number who had perished fromexhaustion. The rest, save a few, lay upon the ground as if dead. On allsides of them stretched the pines and the soft black earth. It looked tothe fugitives like a region into which no human beings had ever come, or ever would come again, and, alas! to most of them like a region fromwhich no human being would ever emerge. 

Henry sat upon a piece of fallen brushwood near the edge of the morass, and looked at the fugitives, and his heart sank within him. They werehardly in the likeness of his own kind, and they seemed practicallylifeless now. Everything was dull, heavy, and dead. The note of the windamong the leaves was somber. A long black snake slipped from the marshygrass near his feet and disappeared soundlessly in the water. He wassick, sick to death at the sight of so much suffering, and the desirefor vengeance, slow, cold, and far more lasting than any hot outburst, grew within him. A slight noise, and Shif'less Sol stood beside him. 

"Did you hear?" asked the shiftless one, in a significant tone. 

"Hear what?" asked Henry, who had been deep in thought. 

"The wolf howl, just a very little cry, very far away an' under thehorizon, but thar all the same. Listen, thar she goes ag'in!"

Henry bent his ear and distinctly heard the faint, whining note, andthen it came a third time. 

He looked tip at Shif'less Sol, and his face grew white--but not forhimself. 

"Yes, " said Shif'less Sol. He understood the look. "We are pursued. Themwolves howlin' are the Iroquois. What do you reckon we're goin' to do, Henry?"

"Fight!" replied the youth, with fierce energy. "Beat 'em off!"

"How?"

Henry circled the little oasis with the eye of a general, and his plancame. 

"You'll stand here, where the earth gives a footing, " he said, "you, Solomon Hyde, as brave a man as I ever saw, and with you will be PaulCotter, Tom Ross, Jim Hart, and Henry Ware, old friends of yours. Carpenter will at once lead the women and children on ahead, and perhapsthey will not hear the battle that is going to be fought here. "

A smile of approval, slow, but deep and comprehensive, stole over theface of Solomon Hyde, surnamed, wholly without fitness, the shiftlessone. "It seems to me, " he said, "that I've heard o' them four fellersyou're talkin' about, an' ef I wuz to hunt all over this planet an' themother planets that Paul tells of, I couldn't find four other fellersthat I'd ez soon have with me. "

"We've got to stand here to the death, " said Henry. 

"You're shorely right, " said Shif'less Sol. 

The hands of the two comrades met in a grip of steel. 

The other three were called and were told of the plan, which met withtheir full approval. Then the news was carried to Carpenter, who quicklyagreed that their course was the wisest. He urged all the fugitives totheir feet, telling them that they must reach another dry placebefore night, but they were past asking questions now, and, heavy andapathetic, they passed on into the swamp. 

Paul watched the last of them disappear among the black bushes andweeds, and turned back to his friends on the oasis. The five lay downbehind a big fallen pine, and gave their weapons a last look. Theyhad never been armed better. Their rifles were good, and the finedouble-barreled pistols, formidable weapons, would be a great aid, especially at close quarters. 

"I take it, " said Tom Ross, "that the Iroquois can't get through at allunless they come along this way, an' it's the same ez ef we wuz settin'on solid earth, poppin' em over, while they come sloshin' up to us. "

"That's exactly it, " said Henry. "We've a natural defense which we canhold against much greater numbers, and the longer we hold 'em off, thenearer our people will be to Fort Penn. "

"I never felt more like fightin' in my life, " said Tom Ross. 

It was a grim utterance, true of them all, although not one among themwas bloodthirsty. 

"Can any of you hear anything?" asked Henry. "Nothin', " repliedShif'less Sol, after a little wait, "nothin' from the women goin', an'nothin' from the Iroquois comin'. "

"We'll just lie close, " said Henry. "This hard spot of ground isn't morethan thirty or forty feet each way, and nobody can get on it without ourknowing it. "

The others did not reply. All lay motionless upon their sides, withtheir shoulders raised a little, in order that they might take instantaim when the time came. Some rays of the sun penetrated the canopy ofpines, and fell across the brown, determined faces and the lean brownhands that grasped the long, slender-barreled Kentucky rifles. Anothersnake slipped from the ground into the black water and swam away. Somewater animal made a light splash as he, too, swam from the presence ofthese strange intruders. Then they beard a sighing sound, as of afoot drawn from mud, and they knew that the Iroquois were approaching, savages in war, whatever they might be otherwise, and expecting an easyprey. Five brown thumbs cocked their rifles, and five brown forefingersrested upon the triggers. The eyes of woodsmen who seldom missed lookeddown the sights. 

The sound of feet in the mud came many times. The enemy was evidentlydrawing near. 

"How many do you think are out thar?" whispered Shif'less Sol to Henry. 

"Twenty, at least, it seems to me by the sounds. " "I s'pose the bestthing for us to do is to shoot at the first head we see. "

"Yes, but we mustn't all fire at the same man. "

It was suggested that Henry call off the turns of the marksmen, and heagreed to do so. Shif'less Sol was to fire first. The sounds now ceased. The Iroquois evidently had some feeling or instinct that they wereapproaching an enemy who was to be feared, not weak and unarmed womenand children. 

The five were absolutely motionless, finger on trigger. The Americanwilderness had heroes without number. It was Horatius Cocles five timesover, ready to defend the bridge with life. Over the marsh rose theweird cry of an owl, and some water birds called in lonely fashion. 

Henry judged that the fugitives were now three quarters of a mile away, out of the sound of rifle shot. He had urged Carpenter to marshal themon as far as he could. But the silence endured yet a while longer. Inthe dull gray light of the somber day and the waning afternoon the marshwas increasingly dreary and mournful. It seemed that it must always bethe abode of dead or dying things. 

The wet grass, forty yards away, moved a little, and between the boughsappeared the segment of a hideous dark face, the painted brow, thesavage black eyes, and the hooked nose of the Mohawk. Only Henry sawit, but with fierce joy-the tortures at Wyoming leaped up before him-hefired at the painted brow. The Mohawk uttered his death cry and fellback with a splash into the mud and water of the swamp. A half dozenbullets were instantly fired at the base of the smoke that came fromHenry's rifle, but the youth and his comrades lay close and wereunharmed. Shif'less Sol and Tom were quick enough to catch glimpses ofbrown forms, at which they fired, and the cries coming back told thatthey had hit. 

"That's something, " said Henry. "One or two Iroquois at least will notwear the scalp of white woman or child at their belts. "

"Wish they'd try to rush us, " said Shif'less Sol. "I never felt so fullof fight in my life before. "

"They may try it, " said Henry. "I understand that at the big battle ofthe Oriskany, farther up in the North, the Iroquois would wait until awhite man behind a tree would fire, then they would rush up and tomahawkhim before he could reload. "

"They don't know how fast we kin reload, " said Long Jim, "an' they don'tknow that we've got these double-barreled pistols, either. "

"No, they don't, " said Henry, "and it's a great thing for us to havethem. Suppose we spread out a little. So long as we keep themfrom getting a lodging on the solid earth we hold them at a greatdisadvantage. "

Henry and Paul moved off a little toward the right, and the otherstoward the left. They still had good cover, as fallen timber wasscattered all over the oasis, and they were quite sure that anotherattack would be made soon. It came in about fifteen minutes. TheIroquois suddenly fired a volley at the logs and brush, and when thefive returned the fire, but with more deadly effect, they leaped forwardin the mud and attempted to rush the oasis, tomahawk in hand. 

But the five reloaded so quickly that they were able to send in a secondvolley before the foremost of the Iroquois could touch foot on solidearth. Then the double barreled pistols came into play. The bulletssent from short range drove back the savages, who were amazed at sucha deadly and continued fire. Henry caught sight of a white face amongthese assailants, and he knew it to be that of Braxton Wyatt. Singularlyenough he was not amazed to see it there. Wyatt, sinking deeper anddeeper into savagery and cruelty, was just the one to lead the Iroquoisin such a pursuit. He was a fit match for Walter Butler, the infamousson of the Indian leader, who was soon to prove himself worse than theworst of the savages, as Thayendanegea himself has written. 

Henry drew a bead once on Braxton Wyatt-he had no scruples now aboutshooting him-but just as he was about to pull the trigger Wyatt dartedbehind a bush, and a Seneca instead received the bullet. He also sawthe renegade, Blackstaffe, but he was not able to secure a shot at him, either. Nevertheless, the Iroquois attack was beaten back. It was aforegone conclusion that the result would be so, unless the force wasin great numbers. It is likely, also, that the Iroquois at first hadthought only a single man was with the fugitives, not knowing that thefive had joined them later. 

Two of the Iroquois were slain at the very edge of the solid ground, buttheir bodies fell back in the slime, and the others, retreating fast fortheir lives, could not carry them off. Paul, with a kind of fascinatedhorror, watched the dead painted bodies sink deeper. Then one wasentirely gone. The hand of the other alone was left, and then it, too, was gone. But the five had held the island, and Carpenter was leadingthe fugitives on toward Fort Penn. They had not only held it, but theybelieved that they could continue to hold it against anything, and theirhearts became exultant. Something, too, to balance against the longscore, lay out there in the swamp, and all the five, bitter overWyoming, were sorry that Braxton Wyatt was not among them. 

The stillness came again. The sun did not break through the heavy graysky, and the somber shadows brooded over "The Shades of Death. " Theyheard again the splash of water animals, and a swimming snake passed onthe murky surface. Then they heard the wolf's long cry, and the long cryof wolf replying. 

"More Iroquois coming, " said Shif'less Sol. "Well, we gave them a prettywarm how d'ye do, an' with our rifles and double-barreled pistols I'mthinkin' that we kin do it ag'in. "

"We can, except in one case, " said Henry, "if the new party brings theirnumbers up to fifty or sixty, and they wait for night, they can surroundus in the darkness. Perhaps it would be better for us to slip away whentwilight comes. Carpenter and the train have a long lead now. "

"Yes, " said Shif'less Sol, "Now, what in tarnation is that?"

"A white flag, " said Paul. A piece of cloth that had once been white hadbeen hoisted on the barrel of a rifle at a point about sixty yards away. 

"They want a talk with us, " said Henry. 

"If it's Braxton Wyatt, " said Long Jim, "I'd like to take a shot at him, talk or no talk, an' ef I missed, then take another. "

"We'll see what they have to say, " said Henry, and he called aloud:"What do you want with us?"

"To talk with you, " replied a clear, full voice, not that of BraxtonWyatt. 

"Very well, " replied Henry, "show yourself and we will not fire uponyou. "

A tall figure was upraised upon a grassy hummock, and the hands wereheld aloft in sign of peace. It was a splendid figure, at least six feetfour inches in height. At that moment some rays of the setting sun brokethrough the gray clouds and shone full upon it, lighting up the defiantscalp lock interwoven with the brilliant red feather, the eagle facewith the curved Roman beak, and the mighty shoulders and chest of redbronze. It was a genuine king of the wilderness, none other than themighty Timmendiquas himself, the great White Lightning of the Wyandots. 

"Ware, " he said, "I would speak with you. Let us talk as one chief toanother. "

The five were amazed. Timmendiquas there! They were quite sure that hehad come up with the second force, and he was certain to prove a farmore formidable leader than either Braxton Wyatt or Moses Blackstaffe. But his demand to speak with Henry Ware might mean something. 

"Are you going to answer him?" said Shif'less Sol. 

"Of course, " replied Henry. 

"The others, especially Wyatt and Blackstaffe, might shoot. "

"Not while Timmendiquas holds the flag of truce; they would not dare. "

Henry stood up, raising himself to his full height. The same ruddysunlight piercing the somber gray of the clouds fell upon anothersplendid figure, a boy only in years, but far beyond the average heightof man, his hair yellow, his eyes a deep, clear blue, his body clothedin buckskin, and his whole attitude that of one without fear. The two, the white and the red, kings of their kind, confronted each other acrossthe marsh. 

"What do you wish with me, Timmendiquas?" asked Henry. In the presenceof the great Wyandot chief the feeling of hate and revenge that had heldhis heart vanished. He knew that Paul and Shif'less Sol would have sunkunder the ruthless tomahawk of Queen Esther, if it had not been forWhite Lightning. He himself had owed him his life on another and moredistant occasion, and he was not ungrateful. So there was warmth in histone when he spoke. 

"Let us meet at the edge of the solid ground, " said Timmendiquas, "Ihave things to say that are important and that you will be glad tohear. "

Henry walked without hesitation to the edge of the swamp, and theyoung chief, coming forward, met him. Henry held out his hand in whitefashion, and the young chief took it. There was no sound either from theswamp or from those who lay behind the logs on the island, but some ofthe eyes of those hidden in the swamps watched both with burning hatred. 

"I wish to tell you, Ware, " said Timmendiquas, speaking with the dignitybecoming a great chief, "that it was not I who led the pursuit of thewhite men's women and children. I, and the Wyandots who came with me, fought as best we could in the great battle, and I will slay my enemieswhen I can. We are warriors, and we are ready to face each other inbattle, but we do not seek to kill the squaw in the tepee or the papoosein its birch-bark cradle. "

The face of the great chief seemed stirred by some deep emotion, whichimpressed Henry all the more because the countenance of Timmendiquas wasusually a mask. 

"I believe that you tell the truth, " said Henry gravely. 

"I and my Wyandots, " continued the chief, "followed a trail throughthe woods. We found that others, Senecas and Mohawks, led by Wyatt andBlackstaffe, who are of your race, had gone before, and when we came upthere had just been a battle. The Mohawks and Senecas had been drivenback. It was then we learned that the trail was made by women and littlechildren, save you and your comrades who stayed to fight and protectthem. "

"You speak true words, Timmendiquas, " said Henry. 

"The Wyandots have remained in the East to fight men, not to kill squawsand papooses, " continued Timmendiquas. "So I say to you, go on withthose who flee across the mountains. Our warriors shall not pursue youany longer. We will turn back to the valley from which we come, andthose of your race, Blackstaffe and Wyatt, shall go with us. "

The great chief spoke quietly, but there was an edge to his tone thattold that every word was meant. Henry felt a glow of admiration. Thetrue greatness of Timmendiquas spoke. 

"And the Iroquois?" he said, "will they go back with you?"

"They will. They have killed too much. Today all the white people in thevalley are killed or driven away. Many scalps have been taken, thoseof women and children, too, and men have died at the stake. I havefelt shame for their deeds, Ware, and it will bring punishment upon mybrethren, the Iroquois. It will make so great a noise in the world thatmany soldiers will come, and the villages of the Iroquois will cease tobe. "

"I think it is so, Timmendiquas, " said Henry. "But you will be far awaythen in your own land. "

The chief drew himself up a little. 

"I shall remain with the Iroquois, " he said. "I have promised to helpthem, and I must do so. "

"I can't blame you for that, " said Henry, "but I am glad that you donot seek the scalps of women and children. We are at once enemies andfriends, Timmendiquas. "

White Lightning bowed gravely. He and Henry touched hands again, andeach withdrew, the chief into the morass, while Henry walked back towardhis comrades, holding himself erect, as if no enemy were near. 

The four rose up to greet him. They had heard part of what was said, andHenry quickly told them the rest. 

"He's shorely a great chief, " said Shif'less Sol. "He'll keep his word, too. Them people on ahead ain't got anything more to fear from pursuit. "

"He's a statesman, too, " said Henry. "He sees what damage the deeds ofWyoming Valley will do to those who have done them. He thinks our peoplewill now send a great army against the Iroquois, and I think so, too. "

"No nation can stand a thing like that, " said Paul, "and I didn't dreamit could happen. "

They now left the oasis, and went swiftly along the trail left by thefugitives. All of them had confidence in the word of Timmendiquas. Therewas a remote chance that some other band had entered the swamp at adifferent point, but it was remote, indeed, and it did not trouble themmuch. 

Night was now over the great swamp. The sun no longer came through thegray clouds, but here and there were little flashes of flame made byfireflies. Had not the trail been so broad and deep it could easily havebeen lost, but, being what it was, the skilled eyes of the frontiersmenfollowed it without trouble. 

"Some uv 'em are gittin' pow'ful tired, " said Tom Ross, looking atthe tracks in the mud. Then he suddenly added: "Here's whar one's quitforever. "

A shallow grave, not an hour old, had been made under some bushes, and its length indicated that a woman lay there. They passed it byin silence. Henry now appreciated more fully than ever the mercy ofTimmendiquas. The five and Carpenter could not possibly have protectedthe miserable fugitives against the great chief, with fifty Wyandots andIroquois at his back. Timmendiquas knew this, and he had done what noneof the Indians or white allies around him would have done. 

In another hour they saw a man standing among some vines, but watchful, and with his rifle in the hollow of his arm. It was Carpenter, a manwhose task was not less than that of the five. They were in the thickof it and could see what was done, but he had to lead on and wait. Hecounted the dusk figures as they approached him, one, two, three, four, five, and perhaps no man ever felt greater relief. He advanced towardthem and said huskily:

"There was no fight! They did not attack!"

"There was a fight, " said Henry, "and we beat them back; then a secondand a larger force came up, but it was composed chiefly of Wyandots, ledby their great chief, Timmendiquas. He came forward and said that theywould not pursue women and children, and that we could go in safety. "

Carpenter looked incredulous. 

"It is true, " said Henry, "every word of it. "

"It is more than Brant would have done, " said Carpenter, "and it savesus, with your help. "

"You were first, and the first credit is yours, Mr. Carpenter, " saidHenry sincerely. 

They did not tell the women and children of the fight at the oasis, but they spread the news that there would be no more pursuit, and manydrooping spirits revived. They spent another day in the Great DismalSwamp, where more lives were lost. On the day after their emergencefrom the marsh, Henry and his comrades killed two deer, which furnishedgreatly needed food, and on the day after that, excepting those who haddied by the way, they reached Fort Penn, where they were received intoshelter and safety. 

The night before the fugitives reached Fort Penn, the Iroquois began thecelebration of the Thanksgiving Dance for their great victory and themany scalps taken at Wyoming. They could not recall another time whenthey had secured so many of these hideous trophies, and they were drunkwith the joy of victory. Many of the Tories, some in their own clothes, and some painted and dressed like Indians, took part in it. 

According to their ancient and honored custom they held a grand councilto prepare for it. All the leading chiefs were present, Sangerachte, Hiokatoo, and the others. Braxton Wyatt, Blackstaffe, and other whitemen were admitted. After their deliberations a great fire was built inthe center of the camp, the squaws who had followed the army feedingit with brushwood until it leaped and roared and formed a great redpyramid. Then the chiefs sat down in a solemn circle at some distance, and waited. 

Presently the sound of a loud chant was heard, and from the farthestpoint of the camp emerged a long line of warriors, hundreds and hundredsof them, all painted in red and black with horrible designs. They werenaked except the breechcloth and moccasins, and everyone waved aloft atomahawk as he sang. 

Still singing and brandishing the tomahawks, which gleamed in thered light, the long procession entered the open space, and danced andwheeled about the great fire, the flames casting a lurid light uponfaces hideous with paint or the intoxication of triumph. The glare oftheir black eyes was like those of Eastern eaters of hasheesh or opium, and they bounded to and fro as if their muscles were springs of steel. They sang:

 We have met the Bostonians [*] in battle, We slew them with our rifles and tomahawks. Few there are who escaped our warriors. Ever-victorious is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee. 

 [* Note: All the Americans were often called Bostonians by the Indians as late as the Revolutionary War. ]

 Mighty has been our taking of scalps, They will fill all the lodges of the Iroquois. We have burned the houses of the Bostonians. Ever-victorious is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee. 

 The wolf will prowl in their corn-fields, The grass will grow where their blood has soaked; Their bones will lie for the buzzard to pick. Ever-victorious is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee. 

 We came upon them by river and forest; As we smote Wyoming we will smite the others, We will drive the Bostonians back to the sea. Ever-victorious is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee. 

The monotonous chant with the refrain, "Ever-victorious is the League ofthe Ho-de-no-sau-nee, " went on for many verses. Meanwhile the old squawsnever ceased to feed the bonfire, and the flames roared, casting adeeper and more vivid light over the distorted faces of the dancers andthose of the chiefs, who sat gravely beyond. 

Higher and higher leaped the warriors. They seemed unconscious offatigue, and the glare in their eyes became that of maniacs. Their wholesouls were possessed by the orgy. Beads of sweat, not of exhaustion, butof emotional excitement, appeared upon their faces and naked bodies, andthe red and black paint streaked together horribly. 

For a long time this went on, and then the warriors ceased suddenly tosing, although they continued their dance. A moment later a cry whichthrilled every nerve came from a far point in the dark background. It was the scalp yell, the most terrible of all Indian cries, long, high-pitched, and quavering, having in it something of the barking howlof the wolf and the fiendish shriek of a murderous maniac. The warriorsinstantly took it up, and gave it back in a gigantic chorus. 

A ghastly figure bounded into the circle of the firelight. It was thatof a woman, middle-aged, tall and powerful, naked to the waist, her bodycovered with red and black paint, her long black hair hanging in a loosecloud down her back. She held a fresh scalp, taken from a white head, aloft in either band. It was Catharine Montour, and it was she who hadfirst emitted the scalp yell. After her came more warriors, all bearingscalps. The scalp yell was supposed to be uttered for every scalp taken, and, as they had taken more than three hundred, it did not cease forhours, penetrating every part of the forest. All the time CatharineMontour led the dance. None bounded higher than she. None grimaced morehorribly. 

While they danced, six men, with their hands tied behind them and blackcaps on their heads, were brought forth and paraded around amid hootsand yells and brandishing of tomahawks in their faces. They were thesurviving prisoners, and the black caps meant that they were to bekilled and scalped on the morrow. Stupefied by all through which theyhad gone, they were scarcely conscious now. 

Midnight came. The Iroquois still danced and sang, and the calm starslooked down upon the savage and awful scene. Now the dancers began toweary. Many dropped unconscious, and the others danced about them wherethey lay. After a while all ceased. Then the chiefs brought forth awhite dog, which Hiokatoo killed and threw on the embers of the fire. When it was thoroughly roasted, the chiefs cut it in pieces and ate it. Thus closed the Festival of Thanksgiving for the victory of Wyoming. 

CHAPTER XIII. A FOREST PAGE

When the survivors of the band of Wyoming fugitives that the five hadhelped were behind the walls of Fort Penn, securing the food and restthey needed so greatly, Henry Ware and his comrades felt themselvesrelieved of a great responsibility. They were also aware how much theyowed to Timmendiquas, because few of the Indians and renegades wouldhave been so forbearing. Thayendanegea seemed to them inferior tothe great Wyandot. Often when Brant could prevent the torture of theprisoners and the slaughter of women and children, he did not do it. The five could never forget these things in after life, when Brant wasglorified as a great warrior and leader. Their minds always turned toTimmendiquas as the highest and finest of Indian types. 

While they were at Fort Penn two other parties came, in a fearful stateof exhaustion, and also having paid the usual toll of death on the way. Other groups reached the Moravian towns, where they were received withall kindness by the German settlers. The five were able to give somehelp to several of these parties, but the beautiful Wyoming Valley layutterly in ruins. The ruthless fury of the savages and of many of theTories, Canadians, and Englishmen, can scarcely be told. Everything wasslaughtered or burned. As a habitation of human beings or of anythingpertaining to human beings, the valley for a time ceased to be. Anentire population was either annihilated or driven out, and finallyButler's army, finding that nothing more was left to be destroyed, gathered in its war parties and marched northward with a vast storeof spoils, in which scalps were conspicuous. When they repassed TiogaPoint, Timmendiquas and his Wyandots were still with them. Thayendanegeawas also with them here, and so was Walter Butler, who was destinedshortly to make a reputation equaling that of his father, "Indian"Butler. Nor had the terrible Queen Esther ever left them. She marchedat the head of the army, singing, horrid chants of victory, and swingingthe great war tomahawk, which did not often leave her hand. 

The whole force was re-embarked upon the Susquehanna, and it was stillfull of the impulse of savage triumph. Wild Indian songs floated alongthe stream or through the meadows, which were quiet now. They advancedat their ease, knowing that there was nobody to attack them, but theywere watched by five woodsmen, two of whom were boys. Meanwhile thestory of Wyoming, to an extent that neither Indians nor woodsmenthemselves suspected, was spreading from town to town in the East, toinvade thence the whole civilized world, and to stir up an indignationand horror that would make the name Wyoming long memorable. Wyominghad been a victory for the flag under which the invaders fought, but itsadly tarnished the cause of that flag, and the consequences were to beseen soon. 

Henry Ware, Paul Cotter, Sol Hyde, Tom Ross, and Jim Hart were thinkinglittle of distant consequences, but they were eager for the presentpunishment of these men who had committed so much cruelty. From thebushes they could easily follow the canoes, and could recognize some oftheir occupants. In one of the rear boats sat Braxton Wyatt and a youngman whom they knew to be Walter Butler, a pallid young man, animated bythe most savage ferocity against the patriots. He and Wyatt seemed tobe on the best of terms, and faint echoes of their laughter came to thefive who were watching among the bushes on the river bank. CertainlyBraxton Wyatt and he were a pair well met. 

"Henry, " said Shif'less Sol longingly, "I think I could jest about reachBraxton Wyatt with a bullet from here. I ain't over fond o' shootin'from ambush, but I done got over all scruples so fur ez he's concerned. Jest one bullet, one little bullet, Henry, an' ef I miss I won't ask fura second chance. "

"No, Sol, it won't do, " said Henry. "They'd get off to hunt us. Thewhole fleet would be stopped, and we want 'em to go on as fast aspossible. "

"I s'pose you're right, Henry, " said the shiftless one sadly, "butI'd jest like to try it once. I'd give a month's good huntin' for thatsingle trial. "

After watching the British-Indian fleet passing up the river, theyturned back to the site of the Wyoming fort and the houses near it. Hereeverything had been destroyed. It was about dusk when they approachedthe battlefield, and they heard a dreadful howling, chiefly that ofwolves. 

"I think we'd better turn away, " said Henry. "We couldn't do anythingwith so many. "

They agreed with him, and, going back, followed the Indians up theSusquehanna. A light rain fell that night, but they slept under a littleshed, once attached to a house which had been destroyed by fire. In someway the shed had escaped the flames, and it now came into timely use. The five, cunning in forest practice, drew up brush on the sides, andhalf-burned timber also, and, spreading their blankets on ashes whichhad not long been cold, lay well sheltered from the drizzling rain, although they did not sleep for a long time. 

It was the hottest period of the year in America, but the night had comeon cool, and the rain made it cooler. The five, profiting by experience, often carried with them two light blankets instead of one heavy one. With one blanket beneath the body they could keep warmer in case theweather was cold. 

Now they lay in a row against the standing wall of the old outhouse, protected by a six- or seven-foot slant of board roof. They had eatenof a deer that they had shot in the morning, and they had a senseof comfort and rest that none of them had known before in many days. Henry's feelings were much like those that he had experienced when helay in the bushes in the little canoe, wrapped up from the storm andhidden from the Iroquois. But here there was an important increaseof pleasure, the pattering of the rain on the board roof, a pleasant, soothing sound to which millions of boys, many of them afterwards greatmen, have listened in America. 

It grew very dark about them, and the pleasant patter, almost musicalin its rhythm, kept up. Not much wind was blowing, and it, too, wasmelodious. Henry lay with his head on a little heap of ashes, whichwas covered by his under blanket, and, for the first time since he hadbrought the warning to Wyoming, he was free from all feeling of danger. The picture itself of the battle, the defeat, the massacre, the torture, and of the savage Queen Esther cleaving the heads of the captives, wasat times as vivid as ever, and perhaps would always return now and thenin its original true colors, but the periods between, when youth, hope, and strength had their way, grew longer and longer. 

Now Henry's eyelids sank lower and lower. Physical comfort and thepresence of his comrades caused a deep satisfaction that permeated hiswhole being. The light wind mingled pleasantly with the soft summerrain. The sound of the two grew strangely melodious, almost piercinglysweet, and then it seemed to be human. They sang together, the wind andrain, among the leaves, and the note that reached his heart, rather thanhis ear, thrilled him with courage and hope. Once more the invisiblevoice that had upborne him in the great valley of the Ohio told him, even here in the ruined valley of Wyoming, that what was lost would beregained. The chords ended, and the echoes, amazingly clear, floated faraway in the darkness and rain. Henry roused himself, and came from theimaginative borderland. He stirred a little, and said in a quiet voiceto Shif'less Sol:

"Did you hear anything, Sol?"

"Nothin' but the wind an' the rain. "

Henry knew that such would be the answer. 

"I guess you didn't hear anything either, Henry, " continued theshiftless one, "'cause it looked to me that you wuz 'bout ez near sleepez a feller could be without bein' ackshooally so. "

"I was drifting away, " said Henry. 

He was beginning to realize that he had a great power, or rather gift. Paul was the sensitive, imaginative boy, seeing everything in brilliantcolors, a great builder of castles, not all of air, but Henry's giftwent deeper. It was the power to evoke the actual living picture ofthe event that bad not yet occurred, something akin in its natureto prophecy, based perhaps upon the wonderful power of observation, inherited doubtless, from countless primitive ancestors. The finestproduct of the wilderness, he saw in that wilderness many things thatothers did not see, and unconsciously he drew his conclusions fromsuperior knowledge. 

The song had ceased a full ten minutes, and then came another note, ahowl almost plaintive, but, nevertheless, weird and full of ferocity. All knew it at once. They had heard the cry of wolves too often in theirlives, but this had an uncommon note like the yell of the Indian invictory. Again the cry arose, nearer, haunting, and powerful. The five, used to the darkness, could see one another's faces, and the look thatall gave was the same, full of understanding and repulsion. 

"It has been a great day for the wolf in this valley, " whispered Paul, "and striking our trail they think they are going to find what they havebeen finding in such plenty before. "

"Yes, " nodded Henry, "but do you remember that time when in the housewe took the place of the man, his wife and children, just before theIndians came?"

"Yes, " said Paul. 

"We'll treat them wolves the same way, " said Shif'less Sol. 

"I'm glad of the chance, " said Long Jim. 

"Me, too, " said Tom Ross. 

The five rose up to sitting positions against the board wall, andeveryone held across his knees a long, slender barreled rifle, with themuzzle pointing toward the forest. All accomplished marksmen, it wouldonly be a matter of a moment for the stock to leap to the shoulder, theeye to glance down the barrel, the finger to pull the trigger, and theunerring bullet to leap forth. 

"Henry, you give the word as usual, " said Shif'less Sol. 

Henry nodded. 

Presently in the darkness they heard the pattering of light feet, andthey saw many gleaming eyes draw near. There must have been at leastthirty of the wolves, and the five figures that they saw reclining, silent and motionless, against the unburned portion of the house mightwell have been those of the dead and scalped, whom they had found insuch numbers everywhere. They drew near in a semicircular group, itsconcave front extended toward the fire, the greatest wolves at thecenter. Despite many feastings, the wolves were hungry again. Nothinghad opposed them before, but caution was instinctive. The big grayleaders did not mind the night or the wind or the rain, which theyhad known all their lives, and which they counted as nothing, but theyalways had involuntary suspicion of human figures, whether living ornot, and they approached slowly, wrinkling back their noses and sniffingthe wind which blew from them instead of the five figures. But theirconfidence increased as they advanced. They had found many such burnedhouses as this, but they had found nothing among the ruins except whatthey wished. 

The big leaders advanced more boldly, glaring straight at the humanfigures, a slight froth on their lips, the lips themselves curlingback farther from the strong white teeth. The outer ends of the concavesemicircle also drew in. The whole pack was about to spring upon itsunresisting prey, and it is, no doubt, true that many a wolfish pulsebeat a little higher in anticipation. With a suddenness as startling figures raised themselves, five long, dark tubes leaped to theirshoulders, and with a suddenness that was yet more terrifying, a gushof flame shot from five muzzles. Five of the wolves-and they were thebiggest and the boldest, the leaders-fell dead upon the ashes of thecharred timbers, and the others, howling their terror to the dark, skies, fled deep into the forest. 

Henry strode over and pushed the body of the largest wolf with his foot. 

"I suppose we only gratified a kind of sentiment in shooting thosewolves, " he said, "but I for one am glad we did it. "

"So am I, " said Paul. 

"Me, too, " said the other three together. 

They went back to their positions near the wall, and one by one fellasleep. No more wolves howled that night anywhere near them. 

When the five awakened the next morning the rain had ceased, and asplendid sun was tinting a blue sky with gold. Jim Hart built a fireamong the blackened logs, and cooked venison. They had also brought fromFort Penn a little coffee, which Long Jim carried with a small coffeepot in his camp kit, and everyone had a small tin cup. He made coffeefor them, an uncommon wilderness luxury, in which they could rarelyindulge, and they were heartened and strengthened by it. 

Then they went again up the valley, as beautiful as ever, with itssilver river in the center, and its green mountain walls on either side. But the beauty was for the eye only. It did not reach the hearts ofthose who had seen it before. All of the five loved the wilderness, butthey felt now how tragic silence and desolation could be where humanlife and all the daily ways of human life had been. 

It was mid-summer, but the wilderness was already reclaiming its own. The game knew that man was gone, and it had come back into the valley. Deer ate what had grown in the fields and gardens, and the wolves wereeverywhere. The whole black tragedy was written for miles. They werenever out of sight of some trace of it, and their anger grew again asthey advanced in the blackened path of the victorious Indians. 

It was their purpose now to hang on the Indian flank as scouts andskirmishers, until an American army was formed for a campaign againstthe Iroquois, which they were sure must be conducted sooner or later. Meanwhile they could be of great aid, gathering news of the Indianplans, and, when that army of which they dreamed should finally march, they could help it most of all by warning it of ambush, the Indian'sdeadliest weapon. 

Everyone of the five had already perceived a fact which was manifest inall wars with the Indians along the whole border from North to South, as it steadily shifted farther West. The practical hunter and scout wasalways more than a match for the Indian, man for man, but, when the rawlevies of settlers were hastily gathered to stem invasion, they wereinvariably at a great disadvantage. They were likely to be caught inambush by overwhelming numbers, and to be cut down, as had just happenedat Wyoming. The same fate might attend an invasion of the Iroquoiscountry, even by a large army of regular troops, and Henry and hiscomrades resolved upon doing their utmost to prevent it. An army neededeyes, and it could have none better than those five pairs. So they wentswiftly up the valley and northward and eastward, into the country ofthe Iroquois. They had a plan of approaching the upper Mohawk villageof Canajoharie, where one account says that Thayendanegea was born, although another credits his birthplace to the upper banks of the Ohio. 

They turned now from the valley to the deep woods. The trail showedthat the great Indian force, after disembarking again, split into largeparties, everyone loaded with spoil and bound for its home village. Thefive noted several of the trails, but one of them consumed the wholeattention of Silent Tom Ross. 

He saw in the soft soil near a creek bank the footsteps of about eightIndians, and, mingled with them, other footsteps, which he took to bethose of a white woman and of several children, captives, as even atyro would infer. The soul of Tom, the good, honest, and inarticulatefrontiersman, stirred within him. A white woman and her children beingcarried off to savagery, to be lost forevermore to their kind! Tom, still inarticulate, felt his heart pierced with sadness at the tale thatthe tracks in the soft mud told so plainly. But despair was not the onlyemotion in his heart. The silent and brave man meant to act. 

"Henry, " he said, "see these tracks here in the soft spot by the creek. "

The young leader read the forest page, and it told him exactly the sametale that it had told Tom Ross. 

"About a day old, I think, " he said. 

"Just about, " said Tom; "an' I reckon, Henry, you know what's in mymind. "

"I think I do, " said Henry, "and we ought to overtake them by to-morrownight. You tell the others, Tom. "

Tom informed Shif'less Sol, Paul, and Long Jim in a few words, receivingfrom everyone a glad assent, and then the five followed fast on thetrail. They knew that the Indians could not go very fast, as their speedmust be that of the slowest, namely, that of the children, and it seemedlikely that Henry's prediction of overtaking them on the following nightwould come true. 

It was an easy trail. Here and there were tiny fragments of cloth, caught by a bush from the dress of a captive. In one place they saw afragment of a child's shoe that had been dropped off and abandoned. Paulpicked up the worn piece of leather and examined it. 

"I think it was worn by a girl, " he said, "and, judging from its size, she could not have been more than eight years old. Think of a child likethat being made to walk five or six hundred miles through these woods!"

"Younger ones still have had to do it, " said Shif'less Sol gravely, "an'them that couldn't-well, the tomahawk. "

The trail was leading them toward the Seneca country, and they had nodoubt that the Indians were Senecas, who had been more numerous thanany others of the Six Nations at the Wyoming battle. They came thatafternoon to a camp fire beside which the warriors and captives hadslept the night before. 

"They ate bar meat an' wild turkey, " said Long Jim, looking at somebones on the ground. 

"An' here, " said Tom Ross, "on this pile uv bushes is whar the women an'children slept, an' on the other side uv the fire is whar the warriorslay anywhars. You can still see how the bodies uv some uv 'cm crusheddown the grass an' little bushes. "

"An' I'm thinkin', " said Shif'less Sol, as he looked at the trail thatled away from the camp fire, "that some o' them little ones wuz gittin'pow'ful tired. Look how these here little trails are wobblin' about. "

"Hope we kin come up afore the Injuns begin to draw thar tomahawks, "said Tom Ross. 

The others were silent, but they knew the dreadful significance of Tom'sremark, and Henry glanced at them all, one by one. 

"It's the greatest danger to be feared, " he said, "and we must overtakethem in the night when they are not suspecting. If we attack by day theywill tomahawk the captives the very first thing. "

"Shorely, ', said the shiftless one. 

"Then, " said Henry, "we don't need to hurry. We'll go on until aboutmidnight, and then sleep until sunrise. "

They continued at a fair pace along a trail that frontiersmen far lessskillful than they could have followed. But a silent dread was in theheart of every one of them. As they saw the path of the small feetstaggering more and more they feared to behold some terrible objectbeside the path. 

"The trail of the littlest child is gone, " suddenly announced Paul. 

"Yes, " said Henry, "but the mother has picked it up and is carrying it. See how her trail has suddenly grown more uneven. "

"Poor woman, " said Paul. "Henry, we're just bound to overtake thatband. "

"We'll do it, " said Henry. 

At the appointed time they sank down among the thickest bushes that theycould find, and slept until the first upshot of dawn. Then they resumedthe trail, haunted always by that fear of finding something terriblebeside it. But it was a trail that continually grew slower. The Indiansthemselves were tired, or, feeling safe from pursuit, saw no need ofhurry. By and by the trail of the smallest child reappeared. 

"It feels a lot better now, " said Tom Ross. "So do I. "

They came to another camp fire, at which the ashes were not yet cold. Feathers were scattered about, indicating that the Indians had takentime for a little side hunt, and had shot some birds. 

"They can't be more than two or three hours ahead, " said Henry, "andwe'll have to go on now very cautiously. "

They were in a country of high hills, well covered with forests, aregion suited to an ambush, which they feared but little on their ownaccount; but, for the sake of extreme caution, they now advanced slowly. The afternoon was long and warm, but an hour before sunset they lookedover a hill into a glade, and saw the warriors making camp for thenight. 

The sight they beheld made the pulses of the five throb heavily. TheIndians had already built their fire, and two of them were cookingvenison upon it. Others were lying on the grass, apparently resting, but a little to one side sat a woman, still young and of large, strongfigure, though now apparently in the last stages of exhaustion, with herfeet showing through the fragments of shoes that she wore. Her head wasbare, and her dress was in strips. Four children lay beside her' theyoungest two with their heads in her lap. The other two, who might beeleven and thirteen each, had pillowed their heads on their arms, andlay in the dull apathy that comes from the finish of both strengthand hope. The woman's face was pitiful. She had more to fear than thechildren, and she knew it. She was so worn that the skin hung loosely onher face, and her eyes showed despair only. The sad spectacle was almostmore than Paul could stand. 

"I don't like to shoot from ambush, " he said, "but we could cut downhalf of those warriors at our firs fire and rush in on the rest. "

"And those we didn't cut down at our first volley would tomahawk thewoman and children in an instant, " replied Henry. "We agreed, you know, that it would be sure to happen. We can't do anything until night comes, and then we've got to be mighty cautious. "

Paul could not dispute the truth of his words, and they withdrewcarefully to the crest of a hill, where they lay in the undergrowth, watching the Indians complete their fire and their preparations for thenight. It was evident to Henry that they considered themselves perfectlysafe. Certainly they had every reason for thinking so. It was not likelythat white enemies were within a hundred miles of them, and, if so, itcould only be a wandering hunter or two, who would flee from this fierceband of Senecas who bad taken revenge for the great losses that they'had suffered the year before at the Oriskany. 

They kept very little watch and built only a small fire, just enoughfor broiling deer meat which they carried. They drank at a little springwhich ran from under a ledge near them, and gave portions of the meat tothe woman and children. After the woman had eaten, they bound her hands, and she lay back on the grass, about twenty feet from the camp fire. Twochildren lay on either side of her, and they were soon sound asleep. Thewarriors, as Indians will do when they are free from danger and care, talked a good deal, and showed all the signs of having what was to thema luxurious time. They ate plentifully, lolled on the grass, and lookedat some hideous trophies, the scalps that they carried at their belts. The woman could not keep from seeing these, too, but her face did notchange from its stony aspect of despair. Then the light of the fire wentout, the sun sank behind the mountains, and the five could no longer seethe little group of captives and captors. 

They still waited, although eagerness and impatience were tugging at thehearts of every one of them. But they must give the Indians time tofall asleep if they would secure rescue, and not merely revenge. Theyremained in the bushes, saying but little and eating of venison thatthey carried in their knapsacks. 

They let a full three hours pass, and the night remained dark, butwith a faint moon showing. Then they descended slowly into the valley, approaching by cautious degrees the spot where they knew the Indian camplay. This work required at least three quarters of an hour, and theyreached a point where they could see the embers of the fire and the darkfigures lying about it. The Indians, their suspicions lulled, had putout no sentinels, and all were asleep. But the five knew that, at thefirst shot, they would be as wide awake as if they had never slept, andas formidable as tigers. Their problem seemed as great as ever. So theylay in the bushes and held a whispered conference. 

"It's this, " said Henry. "We want to save the woman and the childrenfrom the tomahawks, and to do so we must get them out of range of theblade before the battle begins. " "How?" said Tom Ross. 

"I've got to slip up, release the woman, arm her, tell her to run forthe woods with the children, and then you four must do the most of therest. "

"Do you think you can do it, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol. 

"I can, as I will soon show you. I'm going to steal forward to the woman, but the moment you four hear an alarm open with your rifles and pistols. You can come a little nearer without being heard. "

All of them moved up close to the Indian camp, and lay hidden in thelast fringe of bushes except Henry. He lay almost flat upon the ground, carrying his rifle parallel with his side, and in his right hand. Hewas undertaking one of the severest and most dangerous tests known toa frontiersman. He meant to crawl into the very midst of a camp of theIroquois, composed of the most alert woodsmen in the world, men whowould spring up at the slightest crackle in the brush. Woodmen who, warned by some sixth sense, would awaken at the mere fact of a strangepresence. 

The four who remained behind in the bushes could not keep their heartsfrom beating louder and faster. They knew the tremendous risk undertakenby their comrade, but there was not one of them who would have shirkedit, had not all yielded it to the one whom they knew to be the bestfitted for the task. 

Henry crept forward silently, bringing to his aid all the years of skillthat he had acquired in his life in the wilds. His body was like thatof a serpent, going forward, coil by coil. He was near enough now to seethe embers of the fire not yet quite dead, the dark figures scatteredabout it, sleeping upon the grass with the long ease of custom, and thenthe outline of the woman apart from the others with the children abouther. Henry now lay entirely flat, and his motions were genuinely thoseof a serpent. It was by a sort of contraction and relaxation of the bodythat he moved himself, and his progress was absolutely soundless. 

The object of his advance was the woman. He saw by the faint light ofthe moon that she was not yet asleep. Her face, worn and weather beaten, was upturned to the skies, and the stony look of despair seemed to havesettled there forever. She lay upon some pine boughs, and her hands weretied behind her for the night with deerskin. 

Henry contorted himself on, inch by inch, for all the world like a greatsnake. Now he passed the sleeping Senecas, hideous with war paint, andcame closer to the woman. She was not paying attention to anything abouther, but was merely looking up at the pale, cold stars, as if everythingin the world had ceased for her. 

Henry crept a little nearer. He made a slight noise, as of a lizardrunning through the grass, but the woman took no notice. He creptcloser, and there he lay flat upon the grass within six feet of her, his figure merely a slightly darker blur against the dark blur of theearth. Then, trusting to the woman's courage and strength of mind, heemitted a hiss very soft and low, like the warning of a serpent, half infear and half in anger. 

The woman moved a little, and looked toward the point from which thesound had come. It might have been the formidable hiss of a coilingrattlesnake that she heard, but she felt no fear. She was too muchstunned, too near exhaustion to be alarmed by anything, and she didnot look a second time. She merely settled back on the pine boughs, andagain looked dully up at the pale, cold stars that cared so little forher or hers. 

Henry crept another yard nearer, and then he uttered that low noise, sibilant and warning, which the woman, the product of the border, knewto be made by a human being. She raised herself a little, although itwas difficult with her bound hands to sit upright, and saw a dark shadowapproaching her. That dark shadow she knew to be the figure of a man. AnIndian would not be approaching in such a manner, and she looked again, startled into a sudden acute attention, and into a belief that theincredible, the impossible, was about to happen. A voice came from thefigure, and its quality was that of the white voice, not the red. 

"Do not move, " said that incredible voice out of the unknown. "I havecome for your rescue, and others who have come for the same purpose arenear. Turn on one side, and I will cut the bonds that hold your arms. "

The voice, the white voice, was like the touch of fire to Mary Newton. A sudden fierce desire for life and for the lives of her four childrenawoke within her just when hope had gone the call to life came. Shehad never heard before a voice so full of cheer and encouragement. Itpenetrated her whole being. Exhaustion and despair fled away. 

"Turn a little on your side, " said the voice. 

She turned obediently, and then felt the sharp edge of cold steel as itswept between her wrists and cut the thongs that held them together. Herarms fell apart, and strength permeated every vein of her being. 

"We shall attack in a few moments, " said the voice, "but at the firstshots the Senecas will try to tomahawk you and your children. Hold outyour hands. "

She held out both hands obediently. The handle of a tomahawk was pressedinto one, and the muzzle of a double-barreled pistol into the other. Strength flowed down each hand into her body. 

"If the time comes, use them; you are strong, and you know how, " saidthe voice. Then she saw the dark figure creeping away. 

CHAPTER XIV. THE PURSUIT ON THE RIVER

The story of the frontier is filled with heroines, from the far daysof Hannah Dustin down to the present, and Mary Newton, whom the unknownfigure in the dark had just aroused, is one of them. It had seemed toher that God himself had deserted her, but at the last moment he hadsent some one. She did not doubt, she could not doubt, because the bondshad been severed, and there she lay with a deadly weapon in either hand. The friendly stranger who had come so silently was gone as he had come, but she was not helpless now. Like many another frontier woman, shewas naturally lithe and powerful, and, stirred by a great hope, all herstrength had returned for the present. 

Nobody who lives in the wilderness can wholly escape superstition, and Mary Newton began to believe that some supernatural creature hadintervened in her behalf. She raised herself just a little on one elbowand surveyed the surrounding thicket. She saw only the dead embers ofthe fire, and the dark forms of the Indians lying upon the bare ground. Had it not been for the knife and pistol in her hand, she could havebelieved that the voice was only a dream. 

There was a slight rustling in the thicket, and a Seneca rose quicklyto his knees, grasping his rifle in both hands. The woman's fingersclutched the knife and pistol more tightly, and her whole gaunt figuretrembled. The Seneca listened only a moment. Then he gave a sharp cry, and all the other warriors sprang up. But three of them rose onlyto fall again, as the rifles cracked in the bushes, while two othersstaggered from wounds. 

The triumphant shout of the frontiersmen came from the thicket, and thenthey rushed upon the camp. Quick as a flash two of the Senecas startedtoward the woman and children with their tomahawks, but Mary Newton wasready. Her heart had leaped at the shots when the Senecas fell, andshe kept her courage. Now she sprang to her full height, and, with thechildren screaming at her feet, fired one barrel of the pistol directlyinto the face of the first warrior, and served the second in the sameway with the other barrel when he was less than four feet away. Then, tomahawk in hand, she rushed forward. In judging Mary Newton, one mustconsider time and place. 

But happily there was no need for her to use her tomahawk. As the fiverushed in, four of them emptied their double-barreled pistols, whileHenry swung his clubbed rifle with terrible effect. It was too muchfor the Senecas. The apparition of the armed woman, whom they had leftbound, and the deadly fire from the five figures that sprang upon them, was like a blow from the hand of Aieroski. The unhurt and wounded fleddeep into the forest, leaving their dead behind. Mary Newton, her greatdeed done, collapsed from emotion and weakness. The screams of thechildren sank in a few moments to frightened whimpers. But the oldest, when they saw the white faces, knew that rescue had come. 

Paul brought water from the brook in his cap, and Mary Newton wasrevived; Jim was reassuring the children, and the other three were inthe thickets, watching lest the surviving Senecas return for attack. 

"I don't know who you are, but I think the good God himself must havesent you to our rescue, " said Mary Newton reverently. 

"We don't know, " said Paul, "but we are doing the best we can. Do youthink you can walk now?"

"Away from the savages? Yes!" she said passionately. She looked down atthe dead figures of the Senecas, and she did not feel a single trace ofpity for them. Again it is necessary to consider time and place. 

"Some of my strength came back while I was lying here, " she said, "andmuch more of it when you drove away the Indians. "

"Very well, " said Henry, who had returned to the dead camp fire withhis comrades, "we must start on the back trail at once. The survivingSenecas, joined by other Iroquois, will certainly pursue, and we needall the start that we can get. "

Long Jim picked up one of the two younger children and flung him overhis shoulder; Tom Ross did as much for the other, but the older twoscorned help. They were full of admiration for the great woodsmen, mighty heroes who had suddenly appeared out of the air, as it were, and who had swept like a tornado over the Seneca band. It did not seempossible now that they, could be retaken. 

But Mary Newton, with her strength and courage, had also recovered herforethought. 

"Maybe it will not be better to go on the back trail, " she said. "Oneof the Senecas told me to-day that six or seven miles farther on was ariver flowing into the Susquehanna, and that they would cross this riveron a boat now concealed among bushes on the bank. The crossing was at asudden drop between high banks. Might not we go on, find the boat, andcome back in it down the river and into the Susquehanna?"

"That sounds mighty close to wisdom to me, " said Shif'less Sol. "Besides, it's likely to have the advantage o' throwin' the Iroquois offour track. They'll think, o' course, that we've gone straight back, an'we'll pass 'em ez we're going forward. "

"It's certainly the best plan, " said Henry, "and it's worth our whileto try for that hidden boat of the Iroquois. Do you know the generaldirection?"

"Almost due north. "

"Then we'll make a curve to the right, in order to avoid any Iroquoiswho may be returning to this camp, and push for it. "

Henry led the way over hilly, rough ground, and the others followed in asilent file, Long Jim and Tom still carrying the two smallest children, who soon fell asleep on their shoulders. Henry did not believe that thereturning Iroquois could follow their trail on such a dark night, andthe others agreed with him. 

After a while they saw the gleam of water. Henry knew that it must bevery near, or it would have been wholly invisible on such a dark night. 

"I think, Mrs. Newton, " he said, "that this is the river of which youspoke, and the cliffs seem to drop down just as you said they would. "

The woman smiled. 

"Yes, " she said, "you've done well with my poor guess, and the boat mustbe hidden somewhere near here. "

Then she sank down with exhaustion, and the two older children, unableto walk farther, sank down beside her. But the two who slept soundly onthe shoulders of Long Jim and Tom Ross did not awaken. Henry motionedto Jim and Tom to remain there, and Shif'less Sol bent upon them aquizzical and approving look. 

"Didn't think it was in you, Jim Hart, you old horny-handed galoot, " hesaid, "carryin' a baby that tender. Knew Jim could sling a little blackbar 'roun' by the tail, but I didn't think you'd take to nussin' soeasy. "

"I'd luv you to know, Sol Hyde, " said Jim Hart in a tone of highcondescension, "that Tom Ross an' me are civilized human bein's. In faceuv danger we are ez brave ez forty thousand lions, but with the littlean' the weak we're as easy an' kind an' soft ez human bein's are evermade to be. "

"You're right, old hoss, " said Tom Ross. 

"Well, " said the shiftless one, "I can't argify with you now, ez thegeneral hez called on his colonel, which is me, an' his major, which isPaul, to find him a nice new boat like one o' them barges o' Clepatrythat Paul tells about, all solid silver, with red silk sails an' goldoars, an' we're meanin' to do it. "

Fortune was with them, and in a quarter of an hour they discovered, deepamong bushes growing in the shallow water, a large, well-made boat withtwo pairs of oars and with small supplies of parched corn and venisonhidden in it. 

"Good luck an' bad luck come mixed, " said the shift-less one, "an' thisis shorely one o' our pieces o' good luck. The woman an' the childrenare clean tuckered out, an' without this boat we could never hev gotthem back. Now it's jest a question o' rowin' an' fightin'. "

"Paul and I will pull her out to the edge of the clear water, " saidHenry, "while you can go back and tell the others, Sol. "

"That just suits a lazy man, " said Sol, and he walked away jauntily. Under his apparent frivolity he concealed his joy at the find, which heknew to be of such vast importance. He approached the dusky group, andhis really tender heart was stirred with pity for the rescued captives. Long Jim and Silent Tom held the smaller two on their shoulders, butthe older ones and the woman, also, had fallen asleep. Sol, in order toconceal his emotion, strode up rather roughly. Mary Newton awoke. 

"Did you find anything?" she asked. 

"Find anything?" repeated Shif'less Sol. "Well, Long Jim an' Tomhere might never hev found anything, but Henry an' Paul an' me, threeeddicated men, scholars, I might say, wuz jest natcherally bound to findit whether it wuz thar or not. Yes, we've unearthed what Paul would callan argosy, the grandest craft that ever floated on this here creek, that I never saw before, an' that I don't know the name uv. She's bein'floated out now, an' I, the Gran' Hidalgo an' Majordomo, hev come totell the princes and princesses, an' the dukes and dukesses, an' all theother gran' an' mighty passengers, that the barge o' the Dog o' Veniceis in the stream, an' the Dog, which is Henry Ware, is waitin', settin'on the Pup to welcome ye. "

"Sol, " said Long Jim, "you do talk a power uv foolishness, with yourDogs an' Pups. "

"It ain't foolishness, " rejoined the shiftless one. "I heard Paul readit out o' a book oncet, plain ez day. They've been ruled by Dogs atVenice for more than a thousand years, an' on big 'casions the Dog comesdown a canal in a golden barge, settin' on the Pup. I'll admit it 'pearsstrange to me, too, but who are you an' me, Jim Hart, to question theways of foreign countries, thousands o' miles on the other side o' thesea?"

"They've found the boat, " said Tom Ross, "an' that's enough!"

"Is it really true?" asked Mrs. Newton. 

"It is, " replied Shif'less Sol, "an' Henry an' Paul are in it, waitin'fur us. We're thinkin', Mrs. Newton, that the roughest part of your tripis over. "

In another five minutes all were in the boat, which was a really fineone, and they were delighted. Mary Newton for the first time broke downand wept, and no one disturbed her. The five spread the blankets on thebottom of the boat, where the children soon went to sleep once more, andTom Ross and Shif'less Sol took the oars. 

"Back in a boat ag'in, " said the shiftless one exultantly. "Makes mefeel like old times. My fav'rite mode o' travelin' when Jim Hart, 'steado' me, is at the oars. "

"Which is most o' the time, " said Long Jim. 

It was indeed a wonderful change to these people worn by the wilderness. They lay at ease now, while two pairs of powerful arms, with scarcely aneffort, propelled the boat along the stream. The woman herself lay downon the blankets and fell asleep with the children. Henry at the prow, Tom Ross at the stern, and Paul amidships watched in silence, but withtheir rifles across their knees. They knew that the danger was far fromover. Other Indians were likely to use this stream, unknown to them, asa highway, and those who survived of their original captors could pickup their trail by daylight. And the Senecas, being mad for revenge, would surely get help and follow. Henry believed that the theory ofreturning toward the Wyoming Valley was sound. That region had been sothoroughly ravaged now that all the Indians would be going northward. If they could float down a day or so without molestation, they wouldprobably be safe. The creek, or, rather, little river, broadened, flowing with a smooth, fairly swift current. The forest on either sidewas dense with oak, hickory, maple, and other splendid trees, oftenwith a growth of underbrush. The three riflemen never ceased to watchintently. Henry always looked ahead. It would have been difficult forany ambushed marksman to have escaped his notice. But nothing occurredto disturb them. Once a deer came down to drink, and fled away at sightof the phantom boat gliding almost without noise on the still waters. Once the far scream of a panther came from the woods, but Mary Newtonand her children, sleeping soundly, did not hear it. The five themselvesknew the nature of the sound, and paid no attention. The boat wentsteadily on, the three riflemen never changing their position, and soonthe day began to come. Little arrows of golden light pierced through thefoliage of the trees, and sparkled on the surface of the water. In thecast the red sun was coming from his nightly trip. Henry looked down atthe sleepers. They were overpowered by exhaustion, and would not awakeof their own accord for a long time. 

Shif'less Sol caught his look. 

"Why not let 'em sleep on?" he said. 

Then he and Jim Hart took the oars, and the shiftless one and Tom Rossresumed their rifles. The day was coming fast, and the whole forest wassoon transfused with light. 

No one of the five had slept during the night. They did not feel theneed of sleep, and they were upborne, too, by a great exaltation. Theyhad saved the prisoners thus far from a horrible fate, and they werefirmly resolved to reach, with them, some strong settlement and safety. They felt, too, a sense of exultation over Brant, Sangerachte, Hiokatoo, the Butlers, the Johnsons, Wyatt, and all the crew that had committedsuch terrible devastation in the Wyoming Valley and elsewhere. 

The full day clothed the earth in a light that turned from silver togold, and the woman and the children still slept. The five chewed somestrips of venison, and looked rather lugubriously at the pieces theywere saving for Mary Newton and the children. 

"We ought to hev more'n that, " said Shif'less Sol. "Ef the worst comes tothe worst, we've got to land somewhar an' shoot a deer. "

"But not yet, " said Henry in a whisper, lest he wake the sleepers. "Ithink we'll come into the Susquehanna pretty soon, and its width will bea good thing for us. I wish we were there now. I don't like this narrowstream. Its narrowness affords too good an ambush. "

"Anyway, the creek is broadenin' out fast, " said the shiftless one, "an' that is a good sign. What's that you see ahead, Henry--ain't it ariver?"

"It surely is, " replied Henry, who caught sight of a broad expanse ofwater, "and it's the Susquehanna. Pull hard, Sol! In five more minuteswe'll be in the river. "

It was less than five when they turned into the current of theSusquehanna, and less than five more when they heard a shout behindthem, and saw at least a dozen canoes following. The canoes were filledwith Indians and Tories, and they had spied the fugitives. 

"Keep the women and the children down, Paul, " cried Henry. 

All knew that Henry and Shif'less Sol were the best shots, and, withouta word, Long Jim and Tom, both powerful and skilled watermen, swungheavily on the oars, while Henry and Shif'less Sol sat in the rear withtheir rifles ready. Mary Newton awoke with a cry at the sound of theshots, and started to rise, but Paul pushed her down. 

"We're on the Susquehanna now, Mrs. Newton, " he said, "and we arepursued. The Indians and Tories have just seen us, but don't be afraid. The two who are watching there are the best shots in the world. "

He looked significantly at Henry and Shif'less Sol, crouching in thestern of the boat like great warriors from some mighty past, kings ofthe forest whom no one could overcome, and her courage came back. Thechildren, too, had awakened with frightened cries, but she and Paulquickly soothed them, and, obedient to commands, the four, and MaryNewton with them, lay flat upon the bottom of the boat, which was nowbeing sent forward rapidly by Jim Hart and Tom. Paul took up his rifleand sat in a waiting attitude, either to relieve one of the men at theoars or to shoot if necessary. 

The clear sun made forest and river vivid in its light. The Indians, after their first cry, made no sound, but so powerful were Long Jimand Tom that they were gaining but little, although some of the boatscontained six or eight rowers. 

As the light grew more intense Henry made out the two white faces in thefirst boat. One was that of Braxton Wyatt, and the other, he was quitesure, belonged to the infamous Walter Butler. Hot anger swept throughall his veins, and the little pulses in his temples began to beat liketrip hammers. Now the picture of Wyoming, the battle, the massacre, the torture, and Queen Esther wielding her great tomahawk on the boundcaptives, grew astonishingly vivid, and it was printed blood red on hisbrain. The spirit of anger and defiance, of a desire to taunt those whohad done such things, leaped up in his heart. 

"Are you there, Braxton Wyatt?" he called clearly across the interveningwater. "Yes, I see that it is you, murderer of women and children, champion of the fire and stake, as savage as any of the savages. Andit is you, too, Walter Butler, wickeder son of a wicked father. Come alittle closer, won't you? We've messengers here for both of you!"

He tapped lightly the barrel of his own rifle and that of Shif'less Sol, and repeated his request that they come a little closer. 

They understood his words, and they understood, also, the significantgesture when he patted the barrel of the rifles. The hearts of bothButler and Wyatt were for the moment afraid, and their boat dropped backto third place. Henry laughed aloud when he saw. The Viking rage wasstill upon him. This was the primeval wilderness, and these were nocommon foes. 

"I see that you don't want to receive our little messengers, " he cried. "Why have you dropped back to third place in the line, Braxton Wyatt andWalter Butler, when you were first only a moment ago? Are you cowards aswell as murderers of women and children?"

"That's pow'ful good talk, " said Shif'less Sol admiringly. "Henry, you're a real orator. Give it to 'em, an' mebbe I'll get a chance at oneo' them renegades. "

It seemed that Henry's words had an effect, because the boat of therenegades pulled up somewhat, although it did not regain first place. Thus the chase proceeded down the Susquehanna. 

The Indian fleet was gaining a little, and Shif'less Sol called Henry'sattention to it. 

"Don't you think I'd better take a shot at one o' them rowers in thefirst boat?" he said to Henry. "Wyatt an' Butler are a leetle too furaway. "

"I think it would give them a good hint, Sol!" said Henry. "Take thatfellow on the right who is pulling so hard. "

The shiftless one raised his rifle, lingered but a little over his aim, and pulled the trigger. The rower whom Henry had pointed out fell backin the boat, his hands slipping from the handles of his oars. The boatwas thrown into confusion, and dropped back in the race. Scatteringshots were fired in return, but all fell short, the water spurting up inlittle jets where they struck. 

Henry, who had caught something of the Indian nature in his long stayamong them in the northwest, laughed in loud irony. 

"That was one of our little messengers, and it found a listener!"he shouted. "And I see that you are afraid, Braxton Wyatt and WalterButler, murderers of women and children! Why don't you keep your properplaces in the front?"

"That's the way to talk to 'em, " whispered Shif'less Sol, as hereloaded. "Keep it up, an' mebbe we kin git a chance at Braxton Wyatthisself. Since Wyoming I'd never think o' missin' sech a chance. "

"Nor I, either, " said Henry, and he resumed in his powerful tones: "Theplace of a leader is in front, isn't it? Then why don't you come up?"

Braxton Wyatt and Walter Butler did not come up. They were not lackingin courage, but Wyatt knew what deadly marksmen the fugitive boatcontained, and he had also told Butler. So they still hung back, although they raged at Henry Ware's taunts, and permitted the Mohawksand Senecas to take the lead in the chase. 

"They're not going to give us a chance, " said Henry. "I'm satisfiedof that. They'll let redskins receive our bullets, though just nowI'd rather it were the two white ones. What do you think, Sol, of thatleading boat? Shouldn't we give another hint?"

"I agree with you, Henry, " said the shiftless one. "They're comin'much too close fur people that ain't properly interduced to us. Thispromiskus way o' meetin' up with strangers an' lettin' 'em talk to youjest ez ef they'd knowed you all their lives hez got to be stopped. It'syour time, Henry, to give 'em a polite hint, an' I jest suggest that youtake the big fellow in the front o' the boat who looks like a Mohawk. "

Henry raised his rifle, fired, and the Mohawk would row no more. Againconfusion prevailed in the pursuing fleet, and there was a decline ofenthusiasm. Braxton Wyatt and Walter Butler raged and swore, but, asthey showed no great zeal for the lead themselves, the Iroquois did notgain on the fugitive boat. They, too, were fast learning that the twowho crouched there with their rifles ready were among the deadliestmarksmen in existence. They fired a dozen shots, perhaps, but theirrifles did not have the long range of the Kentucky weapons, and againthe bullets fell short, causing little jets of water to spring up. 

"They won't come any nearer, at least not for the present, " said Henry, "but will hang back just out of rifle range, waiting for some chance tohelp them. "

Shif'less Sol looked the other way, down the Susquehanna, and announcedthat he could see no danger. There was probably no Indian fleet fartherdown the river than the one now pursuing them, and the danger was behindthem, not before. 

Throughout the firing, Silent Tom Ross and Long Jim Hart had not said aword, but they rowed with a steadiness and power that would have carriedoarsmen of our day to many a victory. Moreover, they had the inducementnot merely of a prize, but of life itself, to row and to row hard. Theyhad rolled up their sleeves, and the mighty muscles on those arms ofwoven steel rose and fell as they sent the boat swiftly with the silvercurrent of the Susquehanna. 

Mary Newton still lay on the bottom of the boat. The children had criedout in fright once or twice at the sound of the firing, but she andPaul bad soothed them and kept them down. Somehow Mary Newton had becomepossessed of a great faith. She noticed the skill, speed, and successwith which the five always worked, and, so long given up to despair, she now went to the other extreme. With such friends as these comingsuddenly out of the void, everything must succeed. She had no doubt ofit, but lay peacefully on the bottom of the boat, not at all disturbedby the sound of the shots. 

Paul and Sol after a while relieved Long Jim and Tom at the oars. TheIroquois thought it a chance to creep up again, but they were drivenback by a third bullet, and once more kept their distance. Shif'lessSol, while he pulled as powerfully as Tom Ross, whose place he hadtaken, nevertheless was not silent. 

"I'd like to know the feelin's o' Braxton Wyatt an' that feller Butler, "he said. "Must be powerful tantalizin' to them to see us here, almostwhere they could stretch out their hands an' put 'em on us. Like reachn'fur ripe, rich fruit, an' failin' to git it by half a finger's length. "

"They are certainly not pleased, " said Henry, "but this must end someway or other, you know. "

"I say so, too, now that I'm a-rowin', " rejoined the shiftless one, "but when my turn at the oars is finished I wouldn't care. Ez I've saidmore'n once before, floatin' down a river with somebody else pullin' atthe oars is the life jest suited to me. "

Henry looked up. "A summer thunderstorm is coming, " he said, "and fromthe look of things it's going to be pretty black. Then's when we mustdodge 'em. "

He was a good weather prophet. In a half hour the sky began to darkenrapidly. There was a great deal of thunder and lightning, but whenthe rain came the air was almost as dark as night. Mary Newton and herchildren were covered as much as possible with the blankets, and thenthey swung the boat rapidly toward the eastern shore. They had alreadylost sight of their pursuers in the darkness, and as they coasted alongthe shore they found a large creek flowing into the river from the east. 

They ran up the creek, and were a full mile from its mouth when therain ceased. Then the sun came out bright and warm, quickly dryingeverything. 

They pulled about ten miles farther, until the creek grew too shallowfor them, when they hid the boat among bushes and took to the land. Two days later they arrived at a strong fort and settlement, where MaryNewton and her four children, safe and well, were welcomed by relativeswho had mourned them as dead. 

CHAPTER XV. "THE ALCOVE"

They arrived at the fort as evening was coming on, and as soon as foodwas served to them the five sought sleep. The frontiersmen usually sleptsoundly and for a long time after prodigious exertions, and Henry andhis comrades were too wise to make an exception. They secured a singleroom inside the fort, one given to them gladly, because Mary Newtonhad already spread the fame of their exploits, and, laying aside theirhunting shirts and leggins, prepared for rest. 

"Jim, " said Shif'less Sol, pointing to a low piece of furniture, flatand broad, in one corner of the room, "that's a bed. Mebbe you don'tthink it, but people lay on top o' that an' sleep thar. "

Long Jim grinned. 

"Mebbe you're right, Sol, " he said. "I hev seen sech things ez that, an'mebbe I've slep' on 'em, but in all them gran' old tales Paul tellsus about I never heard uv no big heroes sleepin' in beds. I guess theground wuz good 'nough for A-killus, Hector, Richard-Kur-de-Leong, an' all the rest uv that fightin' crowd, an' ez I'm that sort uv a manmyself I'll jest roll down here on the floor. Bein' as you're tender, Sol Hyde, an' not used to hard life in the woods, you kin take that bedyourself, an' in the mornin' your wally will be here with hot water ina silver mug an' a razor to shave you, an' he'll dress you in a ruffledred silk shirt an' a blue satin waistcoat, an' green satin breeches jestcomin' to the knee, where they meet yellow silk stockin's risin' outuv purple satin slippers, an' then he'll clap on your head a big wiguv snow-white hair, fallin' all about your shoulders an' he'll buckle asilver sword to your side, an' he'll say: 'Gentlemen, him that hez longbeen known ez Shif'less Sol, an' desarvin' the name, but who in realityis the King o' France, is now before you. Down on your knees an' sayyour prayers!'"

Shif'less Sol stared in astonishment. 

"You say a wally will do all that fur me, Jim? Now, what under the sunis a wally?"

"I heard all about 'em from Paul, " replied Long Jim in a tone of intensesatisfaction. "A wally is a man what does fur you what you ought to dofur yourself. "

"Then I want one, " said Shif'less Sol emphatically. "He'd jest suit alazy man like me. An' ez fur your makin' me the King o' France, mebbeyou're more'n half right about that without knowin' it. I hev all theinstincts uv a king. I like to be waited on, I like to eat when I'mhungry, I like to drink when I'm thirsty, I like to rest when I'm tired, an' I like to sleep when I'm sleepy. You've heard o' children changed atbirth by fairies an' sech like. Mebbe I'm the real King o' France, after all, an' my instincts are handed down to me from a thousand royalancestors. "

"Mebbe it's so, " rejoined Long Jim. "I've heard that thar hev been apow'ful lot uv foolish kings. "

With that he put his two blankets upon the floor, lay down upon them, and was sound asleep in five minutes. But Shif'less Sol beat him toslumberland by at least a minute, and the others were not more than twominutes behind Sol. 

Henry was the first up the next morning. A strong voice shouted inhis ear: "Henry Ware, by all that's glorious, " and a hand pressed hisfingers together in an iron grasp. Henry beheld the tall, thin figureand smiling brown face of Adam Colfax, with whom he had made thatadventurous journey up the Mississippi and Ohio. 

"And the others?" was the first question of Adam Colfax. 

"They're all here asleep inside. We've been through a lot of things, butwe're as sound as ever. "

"That's always a safe prediction to make, " said Adam Colfax, smiling. "Inever saw five other human beings with such a capacity for getting outof danger. "

"We were all at Wyoming, and we all still live. "

The face of the New Englander darkened. 

"Wyoming!" he exclaimed. "I cannot hear of it without every vein growinghot within me. "

"We saw things done there, " said Henry gravely, "the telling of which fewmen can bear to hear. "

"I know! I know!" exclaimed Adam Colfax. "The news of it has spreadeverywhere!"

"What we want, " said Henry, "is revenge. It is a case in which we muststrike back, and strike hard. If this thing goes on, not a whitelife will be safe on the whole border from the St. Lawrence to theMississippi. "

"It is true, " said Adam Colfax, "and we would send an army now againstthe Iroquois and their allies, but, Henry, my lad, our fortunes are attheir lowest there in the East, where the big armies are fighting. Thatis the reason why nobody has been sent to protect our rear guard, whichhas suffered so terribly. You may be sure, too, that the Iroquois willstrike in this region again as often and as hard as they can. I makemore than half a guess that you and your comrades are here because youknow this. "

He looked shrewdly at the boy. 

"Yes, " said Henry, "that is so. Somehow we were drawn into it, but beinghere we are glad to stay. Timmendiquas, the great chief who fought usso fiercely on the Ohio, is with the Iroquois, with a detachment of hisWyandots, and while he, as I know, frowns on the Wyoming massacre, hemeans to help Thayendanegea to the end. "

Adam Colfax looked graver than ever. 

"That is bad, " he said. "Timmendiquas is a mighty warrior and leader, but there is also another way of looking at it. His presence here willrelieve somewhat the pressure on Kentucky. I ought to tell you, Henry, that we got through safely with our supplies to the Continental army, and they could not possibly have been more welcome. They arrived just intime. "

The others came forth presently and were greeted with the same warmth byAdam Colfax. 

"It is shore mighty good for the eyes to see you, Mr. Colfax, " saidShif'less Sol, "an' it's a good sign. Our people won when you were onthe Mississippi an' the Ohio'--an' now that you're here, they're goin'to win again. "

"I think we are going to win here and everywhere, " said Adam Colfax, "but it is not because there is any omen in my presence. It is becauseour people will not give up, and because our quarrel is just. "

The stanch New Englander left on the following day for points farthereast, planning and carrying out some new scheme to aid the patriotcause, and the five, on the day after that, received a message writtenon a piece of paper which was found fastened to a tree on the outskirtsof the settlement. It was addressed to "Henry Ware and Those with Him, "and it read:

 "You need not think because you escaped us at Wyoming and on the Susquehanna that you will ever get back to Kentucky. There is amighty league now on the whole border between the Indians and the soldiers of the king. You have seen at Wyoming what we can do, and you will see at other places and on a greater scale what we will do. 

 "I find my own position perfect. It is true that Timmendiquas does not like me, but he is not king here. I am the friend of the great Brant; and Hiokatoo, Sangerachte, Hahiron, and the other chiefs esteem me. I am thick with Colonel John Butler, the victor of Wyoming; his son, the valiant and worthy Walter Butler; Sir John Johnson, Colonel Guy Johnson, Colonel Daniel Claus, and many other eminent men and brave soldiers. 

 "I write these words, Henry Ware, both to you and your comrades, to tell you that our cause will prevail over yours. I do not doubt that when you read this you will try to escape to Kentucky, but when we have destroyed everything along the eastern border, as we have at Wyoming, we shall come to Kentucky, and not a rebel face will be left there. 

 "I am sending this to tell you that there is no hole in which you can hide where we cannot reach you. With my respects, BRAXTON WYATT. "

Henry regarded the letter with contempt. 

"A renegade catches something of the Indian nature, " he said, "andalways likes to threaten and boast. "

But Shif'less Sol was highly indignant. 

"Sometimes I think, " he said, "that the invention o' writin' wuz amistake. You kin send a man a letter an' call him names an' talk mightybig when he's a hundred miles away, but when you've got to stan' upto him face to face an' say it, wa'al, you change your tune an' sing apow'ful sight milder. You ain't gen'ally any roarin' lion then. "

"I think I'll keep this letter, " said Henry, "an' we five will give ananswer to it later on. "

He tapped the muzzle of his rifle, and every one of the four gravelytapped the muzzle of his own rifle after him. It was a significantaction. Nothing more was needed. 

The next morning they bade farewell to the grateful Mary Newton andher children, and with fresh supplies of food and ammunition, chieflyammunition, left the fort, plunging once more into the deep forest. Itwas their intention to do as much damage as they could to the Iroquois, until some great force, capable of dealing with the whole Six Nations, was assembled. Meanwhile, five redoubtable and determined bordererscould achieve something. 

It was about the first of August, and they were in the midst of thegreat heats. But it was a period favoring Indian activity, which was nowat its highest pitch. Since Wyoming, loaded with scalps, flushed withvictory, and aided by the king's men, they felt equal to anything. Only the strongest of the border settlements could hold them back. Thecolonists here were so much reduced, and so little help could besent them from the East, that the Iroquois were able to divide intoinnumerable small parties and rake the country as with a fine toothcomb. They never missed a lone farmhouse, and rarely was any fugitivein the woods able to evade them. And they were constantly fed from theNorth with arms, ammunition, rewards for scalps, bounties, and greatpromises. 

But toward the close of August the Iroquois began to hear of a silentand invisible foe, an evil spirit that struck them, and that struckhard. There were battles of small forces in which sometimes not a singleIroquois escaped. Captives were retaken in a half-dozen instances, andthe warriors who escaped reported that their assailants were of uncommonsize and power. They had all the cunning of the Indian and more, andthey carried rifles that slew at a range double that of those served tothem at the British posts. It was a certainty that they were guided bythe evil spirit, because every attempt to capture them failed miserably. No one could find where they slept, unless it was those who never cameback again. 

The Iroquois raged, and so did the Butlers and the Johnsons and BraxtonWyatt. This was a flaw in their triumph, and the British and Tories saw, also, that it was beginning to affect the superstitions of their redallies. Braxton Wyatt made a shrewd guess as to the identity of theraiders, but he kept quiet. It is likely, also, that Timmendiquas knew, but be, too, said nothing. So the influence of the raiders grew. Whiletheir acts were great, superstition exaggerated them and their powersmanifold. And it is true that their deeds were extraordinary. They wereheard of on the Susquehanna, then on the Delaware and its branches, onthe Chemung and the Chenango, as far south as Lackawaxen Creek, and asfar north as Oneida Lake. It is likely that nobody ever accomplishedmore for a defense than did those five in the waning months of thesummer. Late in September the most significant of all these eventsoccurred. A party of eight Tories, who had borne a terrible part inthe Wyoming affair, was attacked on the shores of Otsego Lake with suchdeadly fierceness that only two escaped alive to the camp of Sir JohnJohnson. Brant sent out six war parties, composed of not less thantwenty warriors apiece, to seek revenge, but they found nothing. 

Henry and his comrades had found a remarkable camp at the edge of one ofthe beautiful small lakes in which the region abounds. The cliff at thatpoint was high, but a creek entered into it through a ravine. At theentrance of the creek into the river they found a deep alcove, or, rather, cave in the rock. It ran so far back that it afforded ampleshelter from the rain, and that was all they wanted. It was abouthalfway between the top and bottom of the cliff, and was difficult ofapproach both from below and above. Unless completely surprised-a veryunlikely thing with them-the five could hold it against any force aslong as their provisions lasted. They also built a boat large enough forfive, which they hid among the bushes at the lake's edge. They were thusprovided with a possible means of escape across the water in case of thelast emergency. 

Jim and Paul, who, as usual, filled the role of housekeepers, took greatdelight in fitting up this forest home, which the fittingly called "TheAlcove. " The floor of solid stone was almost smooth, and with the aid ofother heavy stones they broke off all projections, until one could walkover it in the dark in perfect comfort. They hung the walls withskins of deer which they killed in the adjacent woods, and these wallsfurnished many nooks and crannies for the storing of necessities. Theyalso, with much hard effort, brought many loads of firewood, which LongJim was to use for his cooking. He built his little fireplace of stonesso near the mouth of "The Alcove" that the smoke would pass out and belost in the thick forest all about. If the wind happened to be blowingtoward the inside of the cave, the smoke, of course, would come in onthem all, but Jim would not be cooking then. 

Nor did their operations cease until they had supplied "The Alcove"plentifully with food, chiefly jerked deer meat, although there was noway in which they could store water, and for that they had to taketheir chances. But their success, the product of skill and everlastingcaution, was really remarkable. Three times they were trapped within afew miles of "The Alcove, " but the pursuers invariably went astray onthe hard, rocky ground, and the pursued would also take the precautionto swim down the creek before climbing up to "The Alcove. " Nobody couldfollow a trail in the face of such difficulties. 

It was Henry and Shif'less Sol who were followed the second time, butthey easily shook off their pursuers as the twilight was coming, halfwaded, half swam down the creek, and climbed up to "The Alcove, " wherethe others were waiting for them with cooked food and clear cold water. When they had eaten and were refreshed, Shif'less Sol sat at the mouthof "The Alcove, " where a pleasant breeze entered, despite the foliagethat hid the entrance. The shiftless one was in an especially happymood. 

"It's a pow'ful comf'table feelin', " he said, "to set up in a nice safeplace like this, an' feel that the woods is full o' ragin' heathen, seekin' to devour you, and wonderin' whar you've gone to. Thar's a heapin knowin' how to pick your home. I've thought more than once 'bout thatold town, Troy, that Paul tells us 'bout, an' I've 'bout made up my mindthat it wuzn't destroyed 'cause Helen eat too many golden apples, but'cause old King Prime, or whoever built the place, put it down in aplain. That wuz shore a pow'ful foolish thing. Now, ef he'd built it ona mountain, with a steep fall-off on every side, thar wouldn't hev beenenough Greeks in all the earth to take it, considerin' the miserableweepins they used in them times. Why, Hector could hev set tight on thewalls, laughin' at 'em, 'stead o' goin' out in the plain an' gittin'killed by A-killus, fur which I've always been sorry. "

"It's 'cause people nowadays have more sense than they did in themancient times that Paul tells about, " said Long Jim. "Now, thar wuz'Lyssus, ten or twelve years gittin' home from Troy. Allus runnin'his ship on the rocks, hoppin' into trouble with four-legged giants, one-eyed women, an' sech like. Why didn't he walk home through thewoods, killin' game on the way, an' hevin' the best time he ever knowed?Then thar wuz the keerlessness of A-killus' ma, dippin' him in thatriver so no arrow could enter him, but holdin' him by the heel an'keepin' it out o' the water, which caused his death the very first timeParis shot it off with his little bow an' arrer. Why didn't she hevsense enough to let the heel go under, too. She could hev dragged it outin two seconds an' no harm done 'ceptin', perhaps, a little more yellin'on the part of A-killus. "

"I've always thought Paul hez got mixed 'bout that Paris story, " saidTom Ross. "I used to think Paris was the name uv a town, not a man, an'I'm beginnin' to think so ag'in, sence I've been in the East, 'cause Iknow now that's whar the French come from. "

"But Paris was the name of a man, " persisted Paul. "Maybe the Frenchnamed their capital after the Paris of the Trojan wars. "

"Then they showed mighty poor jedgment, " said Shif'less Sol. "Ef I'dnamed my capital after any them old fellers, I'd have called it Hector. "

"You can have danger enough when you're on the tops of hills, " saidHenry, who was sitting near the mouth of the cave. "Come here, youfellows, and see what's passing down the lake. "

They looked out, and in the moonlight saw six large war canoes beingrowed slowly down the lake, which, though narrow, was quite long. Eachcanoe held about a dozen warriors, and Henry believed that one of themcontained two white faces, evidently those of Braxton Wyatt and WalterButler. 

"Like ez not they've been lookin' fur us, " said Tom Ross. 

"Quite likely, " said Henry, "and at the same time they may be engaged insome general movement. See, they will pass within fifty feet of the baseof the cliff. "

The five lay on the cave floor, looking through the vines and foliage, and they felt quite sure that they were in absolute security. The sixlong war canoes moved slowly. The moonlight came out more brightly, andflooded all the bronze faces of the Iroquois. Henry now saw that he wasnot mistaken, and that Braxton Wyatt and Walter Butler were really inthe first boat. From the cover of the cliff he could have picked offeither with a rifle bullet, and the temptation was powerful. But heknew that it would lead to an immediate siege, from which they might notescape, and which at least would check their activities and plans for along time. Similar impulses flitted through the minds of the other four, but all kept still, although fingers flitted noiselessly along riflestocks until they touched triggers. 

The Iroquois war fleet moved slowly on, the two renegades never dreamingof the danger that had threatened them. An unusually bright ray ofmoonshine fell full upon Braxton Wyatt's face as he paused, and Henry'sfinger played with the trigger of his rifle. It was hard, very hard, tolet such an opportunity go by, but it must be done. 

The fleet moved steadily down the lake, the canoes keeping closetogether. They turned into mere dots upon the water, became smaller andsmaller still, until they vanished in the darkness. 

"I'm thinkin', " said Shif'less Sol, "that thar's some kind uv a movementon foot. While they may hev been lookin' fur us, it ain't likely thatthey'd send sixty warriors or so fur sech a purpose. I heard somethingthree or four days ago from a hunter about an attack upon the Iroquoistown of Oghwaga. "

"It's most likely true, " said Henry, "and it seems to me that it's ourbusiness to join that expedition. What do you fellows think?"

"Just as you do, " they replied with unanimity. 

"Then we leave this place and start in the morning, " said Henry. 

CHAPTER XVI. THE FIRST BLOW

Summer was now waning, the foliage was taking on its autumn hues, andIndian war parties still surged over the hills and mountains, but thefive avoided them all. On one or two occasions they would have beenwilling to stop and fight, but they had bigger work on hand. They hadreceived from others confirmation of the report that Long Jim had heardfrom the hunters, and they were quite sure that a strong force wasadvancing to strike the first blow in revenge for Wyoming. Curiouslyenough, this body was commanded by a fourth Butler, Colonel WilliamButler, and according to report it was large and its leaders capable. 

When the avenging force lay at the Johnstown settlement on the Delaware, it was joined by the five. They were introduced to the colonel by thecelebrated scout and hunter, Tini Murphy, whom they had met severaltimes in the woods, and they were received warmly. 

"I've heard of you, " said Colonel Butler with much warmth, "both fromhunters and scouts, and also from Adam Colfax. Two of you were to havebeen tomahawked by Queen Esther at Wyoming. "

Henry indicated the two. 

"What you saw at Wyoming is not likely to decrease your zeal against theIndians and their white allies, " continued Colonel Butler. 

"Anyone who was there, " said Henry, "would feel all his life, the desireto punish those who did it. "

"I think so, too, from all that I have heard, " continued Colonel Butler. "It is the business of you young men to keep ahead of our column andwarn us of what lies before us. I believe you have volunteered for thatduty. "

The five looked over Colonel Butler's little army, which numbered onlytwo hundred and fifty men, but they were all strong and brave, and itwas the best force that could yet be sent to the harassed border. It might, after all, strike a blow for Wyoming if it marched into noambush, and Henry and his comrades were resolved to guard it from thatgreatest of all dangers. 

When the little column moved from the Johnstown settlement, the fivewere far ahead, passing through the woods, up the Susquehanna, towardthe Indian villages that lay on its banks, though a great distance aboveWyoming. The chief of these was Oghwaga, and, knowing that it was thedestination of the little army, they were resolved to visit it, or atleast come so near it that they could see what manner of place it was. 

"If it's a big village, " said Colonel Butler, "it will be too strongto attack, but it may be that most of the warriors are absent onexpeditions. "

They had obtained before starting very careful descriptions of theapproaches to the village, and toward the close of an October eveningthey knew that they were near Oghwaga, the great base of the Iroquoissupplies. They considered it very risky and unwise to approach in thedaytime, and accordingly they lay in the woods until the dark shouldcome. 

The appearance of the wilderness had changed greatly in the threemonths since Wyoming. All the green was now gone, and it was tintedred and yellow and brown. The skies were a mellow blue, and there was aslight haze over the forest, but the air had the wonderful crispness andfreshness of the American autumn. It inspired every one of the five withfresh zeal and energy, because they believed the first blow was about tobe struck. 

About ten o'clock at night they approached Oghwaga, and the reportsof its importance were confirmed. They had not before seen an Indianvillage with so many signs of permanence. They passed two or threeorchards of apple and peach trees, and they saw other indications ofcultivation like that of the white farmer. 

"It ain't a bad-lookin' town, " said Long Jim Hart. "But it'll lookwuss, " said Shif'less Sol, "onless they've laid an ambush somewhar. I don't like to see houses an' sech like go up in fire an' smoke, butafter what wuz done at Wyomin' an' all through that valley, burnin' is alight thing. "

"We're bound to strike back with all our might, " said Paul, who had thesoftest heart of them all. 

"Now, I wonder who's in this here town, " said Tom Ross. "MebbeTimmendiquas an' Brant an' all them renegades. "

"It may be so, " said Henry. "This is their base and store of supplies. Oh, if Colonel Butler were only here with all his men, what a rush wecould make!"

So great was their eagerness that they crept closer to the village, passing among some thick clusters of grapevines. Henry was in the lead, and he heard a sudden snarl. A large cur of the kind that infest Indianvillages leaped straight at him. 

The very suddenness of the attack saved Henry and his comrades from theconsequences of an alarm. He dropped his rifle instinctively, and seizedthe dog by the throat with both hands. A bark following the snarl hadrisen to the animal's throat, but it was cut short there. The hands ofthe great youth pressed tighter and tighter, and the dog was lifted fromthe earth. The four stood quietly beside their comrade, knowing that noalarm would be made now. 

The dog kicked convulsively, then hung without motion or noise. Henrycast the dead body aside, picked up his rifle, and then all five of themsank softly down in the shelter of the grapevines. About fifteen yardsaway an Indian warrior was walking cautiously along and looking amongthe vines. Evidently he had heard the snarl of the dog, and was seekingthe cause. But it had been only a single sound, and he would not lookfar. Yet the hearts of the five beat a little faster as he prowled amongthe vines, and their nerves were tense for action should the need for itcome. 

The Indian, a Mohawk, came within ten yards of them, but he did not seethe five figures among the vines, blending darkly with the darkgrowth, and presently, satisfied that the sound he had heard was of noimportance, he walked in another direction, and passed out of sight. 

The five, not daunted at all by this living proof of risk, crept to thevery edge of the clusters of grapevines, and looked upon an open space, beyond which stood some houses made of wood; but their attention wascentered upon a figure that stood in the open. 

Although the distance was too great and the light too poor to disclosethe features, every one of the scouts recognized the figure. It could benone other than that of Timmendiquas, the great White Lightning of theWyandots. He was pacing back and forth, somewhat in the fashion of thewhite man, and his manner implied thought. 

"I could bring him down from here with a bullet, " said Shif'less Sol, "but I ain't ever goin' to shoot at the chief, Henry. "

"No, " said Henry, "nor will I. But look, there's another. "

A second figure came out of the dark and joined the first. It was alsothat of a chief, powerful and tall, though not as tall as Timmendiquas. It was Thayendanegea. Then three white figures appeared. One was that ofBraxton Wyatt, and the others they took to be those of "Indian" Butlerand his son, Walter Butler. After a talk of a minute or two they enteredone of the wooden houses. 

"It's to be a conference of some kind, " whispered Henry. "I wish I couldlook in on it. "

"And I, " said the others together. 

"Well, we know this much, " continued Henry. "No great force of theIroquois is present, and if Colonel Butler's men come up quickly, we cantake the town. "

"It's a chance not to be lost, " said Paul. 

They crept slowly away from the village, not stopping until they reachedthe crest of a hill, from which they could see the roofs of two or threeof the Indian houses. 

"I've a feeling in me, " said Paul, "that the place is doomed. We'llstrike the first blow for Wyoming. "

They neither slept nor rested that night, but retraced their trail withthe utmost speed toward the marching American force, going in Indianfile through the wilderness. Henry, as usual, led; Shif'less Solfollowed, then came Paul, and then Long Jim, while Silent Tom was therear guard. They traveled at great speed, and, some time after daylight, met the advance of the colonial force under Captain William Gray. 

William Gray was a gallant young officer, but he was startled a littlewhen five figures as silent as phantoms appeared. But he uttered anexclamation of delight when he recognized the leader, Henry. 

"What have you found?" he asked eagerly. 

"We've been to Oghwaga, " replied the youth, "and we went all about thetown. They do not suspect our coming. At least, they did not know whenwe left. We saw Brant, Timmendiquas, the Butlers, and Wyatt enter thehouse for a conference. "

"And now is our chance, " said eager young William Gray. "What if weshould take the town, and with it these men, at one blow. "

"We can scarcely hope for as much as that, " said Henry, who knewthat men like Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea were not likely to allowthemselves to be seized by so small a force, "but we can hope for a goodvictory. "

The young captain rode quickly back to his comrades with the news, and, led by the five, the whole force pushed forward with all possible haste. William Gray was still sanguine of a surprise, but the young riflemendid not expect it. Indian sentinels were sure to be in the forestbetween them and Oghwaga. Yet they said nothing to dash this hope. Henryhad already seen enough to know the immense value of enthusiasm, andthe little army full of zeal would accomplish much if the chance came. Besides the young captain, William Gray, there was a lieutenant namedTaylor, who had been in the battle at Wyoming, but who had escaped themassacre. The five had not met him there, but the common share in sogreat a tragedy proved a tie between them. Taylor's name was Robert, but all the other officers, and some of the men for that matter, whohad known him in childhood called him Bob. He was but little older thanHenry, and his earlier youth, before removal to Wyoming, had been passedin Connecticut, a country that was to the colonials thickly populatedand containing great towns, such as Hartford and New Haven. 

A third close friend whom they soon found was a man unlike any otherthat they had ever seen. His name was Cornelius Heemskerk. Holland washis birthplace, but America was his nation. He was short and extremelyfat, but he had an agility that amazed the five when they first saw itdisplayed. He talked much, and his words sounded like grumbles, butthe unctuous tone and the smile that accompanied them indicated to thecontrary. He formed for Shif'less Sol an inexhaustible and entertainingstudy in character. 

"I ain't quite seen his like afore, " said the shiftless one to Paul. "First time I run acrost him I thought he would tumble down among thefirst bushes he met. 'Stead o' that, he sailed right through 'em, makin'never a trip an' no noise at all, same ez Long Jim's teeth sinkin' intoa juicy venison steak. "

"I've heard tell, " said Long Jim, who also contemplated the prodigy, "that big, chunky, awkward-lookin' things are sometimes ez spry ez you. They say that the Hipperpotamus kin outrun the giraffe across the sandsuv Afriky, an' I know from pussonal experience that the bigger an'clumsier a b'ar is the faster he kin make you scoot fur your life. Buthe's the real Dutch, ain't he, Paul, one uv them fellers that licked theSpanish under the Duke uv Alivy an' Belisarry?"

"Undoubtedly, " replied Paul, who did not consider it necessary tocorrect Long Jim's history, "and I'm willing to predict to you, JimHart, that Heemskerk will be a mighty good man in any fight that we mayhave. "

Heemskerk rolled up to them. He seemed to have a sort of circularmotion like that of a revolving tube, but he kept pace with the others, nevertheless, and he showed no signs of exertion. 

"Don't you think it a funny thing that I, Cornelius Heemskerk, am here?"he said to Paul. 

"Why so, Mr. Heemskerk?" replied Paul politely. "Because I am aDutchman. I have the soul of an artist and the gentleness of a baby. I, Cornelius Heemskerk, should be in the goot leetle country of Hollandin a goot leetle house, by the side of a goot leetle canal, paintingbeautiful blue china, dishes, plates, cups, saucers, all most beautiful, and here I am running through the woods of this vast America, carryingon my shoulder a rifle that is longer than I am, hunting the red Indianand hunted by him. Is it not most rediculous, Mynheer Paul?"

"I think you are here because you are a brave man, Mr. Heemskerk, "replied Paul, "and wish to see punishment inflicted upon those who havecommitted great crimes. "

"Not so! Not so!" replied the Dutchman with energy. "It is because I amone big fool. I am not really a big enough man to be as big a fool as Iam, but so it is! so it is!" Shif'less Sol regarded him critically, andthen spoke gravely and with deliberation: "It ain't that, Mr. Heemskerk, an' Paul ain't told quite all the truth, either. I've heard that theDutch was the most powerfullest fightin' leetle nation on the globe;that all you had to do wuz to step on the toe uv a Dutchman's woodenshoe, an' all the men, women, an' children in Holland would jump righton top o' you all at once. Lookin' you up an' lookin' you down, an'sizin' you up, an' sizin you down, all purty careful, an' examinin' thecorners O' your eyes oncommon close, an' also lookin' at the way you setyour feet when you walk, I'm concludin' that you just natcherally love afight, an' that you are lookin' fur one. "

But Cornelius Heemskerk sighed, and shook his head. 

"It is flattery that you give me, and you are trying to make me bravewhen I am not, " he said. "I only say once more that I ought to be inHolland painting blue plates, and not here in the great woods holding onto my scalp, first with one hand and then with the other. "

He sighed deeply, but Solomon Hyde, reader of the hearts of men, onlylaughed. 

Colonel Butler's force stopped about three o'clock for food and a littlerest, and the five, who had not slept since the night before, caughta few winks. But in less than an hour they were up and away again. Thefive riflemen were once more well in advance, and with them were Taylorand Heemskerk, the Dutchman, grumbling over their speed, but revolvingalong, nevertheless, with astonishing ease and without any sign offatigue. They discovered no indications of Indian scouts or trails, andas the village now was not many miles away, it confirmed Henry in hisbelief that the Iroquois, with their friends, the Wyandots, would notstay to give battle. If Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas were preparedfor a strong resistance, the bullets of the skirmishers would already bewhistling through the woods. 

The waning evening grew colder, twilight came, and the autumn leavesfell fast before the rising wind. The promise of the night was dark, which was not bad for their design, and once more the five-now the sevenapproached Oghwaga. From the crest of the very same hill they lookeddown once more upon the Indian houses. 

"It is a great base for the Iroquois, " said Henry to Heemskerk, "andwhether the Indians have laid an ambush or not, Colonel Butler mustattack. "

"Ah, " said Heemskerk, silently moving his round body to a little higherpoint for a better view, "now I feel in all its fullness the truth thatI should be back in Holland, painting blue plates. "

Nevertheless, Cornelius Heemskerk made a very accurate survey of theIroquois village, considering the distance and the brevity of the time, and when the party went back to Colonel Butler to tell him the way wasopen, he revolved along as swiftly as any of them. There were also manyserious thoughts in the back of his head. 

At nine o'clock the little colonial force was within half a mile ofOghwaga, and nothing had yet occurred to disclose whether the Iroquoisknew of their advance. Henry and his comrades, well in front, lookeddown upon the town, but saw nothing. No light came from an Indianchimney, nor did any dog howl. Just behind them were the troops in looseorder, Colonel Butler impatiently striking his booted leg with a switch, and William Gray seeking to restrain his ardor, that he might set a goodexample to the men. 

"What do you think, Mr. Ware?" asked Colonel Butler. 

"I think we ought to rush the town at once. "

"It is so!" exclaimed Heemskerk, forgetting all about painting blueplates. 

"The signal is the trumpet; you blow it, Captain Gray, and then we'llcharge. "

William Gray took the trumpet from one of the men and blew a long, thrilling note. Before its last echo was ended, the little army rushedupon the town. Three or four shots came from the houses, and thesoldiers fired a few at random in return, but that was all. Indianscouts had brought warning of the white advance, and the great chiefs, gathering up all the people who were in the village, had fled. Aretreating warrior or two had fired the shots, but when the white menentered this important Iroquois stronghold they did not find a singlehuman being. Timmendiquas, the White Lightning of the Wyandots, wasgone; Thayendanegea, the real head of the Six Nations, had slipped away;and with them had vanished the renegades. But they had gone in haste. All around them were the evidences. The houses, built of wood, werescores in number, and many of them contained furniture such as aprosperous white man of the border would buy for himself. There weregardens and shade trees about these, and back of them, barns, many ofthem filled with Indian corn. Farther on were clusters of bark lodges, which had been inhabited by the less progressive of the Iroquois. 

Henry stood in the center of the town and looked at the houses mistyin the moonlight. The army had not yet made much noise, but he wasbeginning to hear behind him the ominous word, "Wyoming, " repeated morethan once. Cornelius Heemskerk had stopped revolving, and, standingbeside Henry, wiped his perspiring, red face. 

"Now that I am here, I think again of the blue plates of Holland, Mr. Ware, " he said. "It is a dark and sanguinary time. The men whosebrethren were scalped or burned alive at Wyoming will not now spare thetown of those who did it. In this wilderness they give blow for blow, orperish. "

Henry knew that it was true, but he felt a certain sadness. His hearthad been inflamed against the Iroquois, he could never forget Wyoming orits horrors; but in the destruction of an ancient town the long laborof man perished, and it seemed waste. Doubtless a dozen generations ofIroquois children had played here on the grass. He walked toward thenorthern end of the village, and saw fields there from which recent cornhad been taken, but behind him the cry, "Wyoming!" was repeated louderand oftener now. Then he saw men running here and there with torches, and presently smoke and flame burst from the houses. He examined thefields and forest for a little distance to see if any ambushed foe mightstill lie among them, but all the while the flame and smoke behind himwere rising higher. 

Henry turned back and joined his comrades. Oghwaga was perishing. Theflames leaped from house to house, and then from lodge to lodge. Therewas no need to use torches any more. The whole village was wrapped ina mass of fire that grew and swelled until the flames rose above theforest, and were visible in the clear night miles away. 

So great was the heat that Colonel Butler and the soldiers and scoutswere compelled to withdraw to the edge of the forest. The wind rose andthe flames soared. Sparks flew in myriads, and ashes fell dustily on thedry leaves of the trees. Bob Taylor, with his hands clenched tightly, muttered under his breath, "Wyoming! Wyoming!"

"It is the Iroquois who suffer now, " said Heemskerk, as he revolvedslowly away from a heated point. 

Crashes came presently as the houses fell in, and then the sparks wouldleap higher and the flames roar louder. The barns, too, were fallingdown, and the grain was destroyed. The grapevines were trampled underfoot, and the gardens were ruined. Oghwaga, a great central base of theSix Nations, was vanishing forever. For four hundred years, ever sincethe days of Hiawatha, the Iroquois had waxed in power. They had ruledover lands larger than great empires. They had built up political andsocial systems that are the wonder of students. They were invincible inwar, because every man had been trained from birth to be a warrior, andnow they were receiving their first great blow. 

From a point far in the forest, miles away, Thayendanegea, Timmendiquas, Hiokatoo, Sangerachte, "Indian" Butler, Walter Butler, Braxton Wyatt, a low, heavybrowed Tory named Coleman, with whom Wyatt had become veryfriendly, and about sixty Iroquois and twenty Tories were watching atower of light to the south that had just appeared above the trees. Itwas of an intense, fiery color, and every Indian in that gloomy bandknew that it was Oghwaga, the great, the inviolate, the sacred, that wasburning, and that the men who were doing it were the white frontiersmen, who, his red-coated allies had told him, would soon be swept foreverfrom these woods. And they were forced to stand and see it, not daringto attack so strong and alert a force. 

They sat there in the darkness among the trees, and watched the columnof fire grow and grow until it seemed to pierce the skies. Timmendiquasnever said a word. In his heart, Indian though he was, he felt thatthe Iroquois had gone too far. In him was the spirit of the farseeingHiawatha. He could perceive that great cruelty always broughtretaliation; but it was not for him, almost an alien, to say thesethings to Thayendanegea, the mighty war chief of the Mohawks and theliving spirit of the Iroquois nation. 

Thayendanegea sat on the stump of a tree blown down by winter storms. His arms were folded across his breast, and he looked steadily towardthat red threatening light off there in the south. Some such idea asthat in the mind of Timmendiquas may have been passing in his own. Hewas an uncommon Indian, and he had had uncommon advantages. He had notbelieved that the colonists could make head against so great a kingdomas England, aided by the allied tribes, the Canadians, and the largebody of Tories among their own people. But he saw with his own eyes thefamous Oghwaga of the Iroquois going down under their torch. 

"Tell me, Colonel John Butler, " he said bitterly, "where is your greatking now? Is his arm long enough to reach from London to save our townof Oghwaga, which is perhaps as much to us as his great city of Londonis to him?"

The thickset figure of "Indian" Butler moved, and his swart face flushedas much as it could. 

"You know as much about the king as I do, Joe Brant, " he replied. "Weare fighting here for your country as well as his, and you cannot saythat Johnson's Greens and Butler's Rangers and the British and Canadianshave not done their part. "

"It is true, " said Thayendanegea, "but it is true, also, that one mustfight with wisdom. Perhaps there was too much burning of living men atWyoming. The pain of the wounded bear makes him fight the harder, andit, is because of Wyoming that Oghwaga yonder burns. Say, is it not so, Colonel John Butler?"

"Indian" Butler made no reply, but sat, sullen and lowering. The Tory, Coleman, whispered to Braxton Wyatt, but Timmendiquas was the only onewho spoke aloud. 

"Thayendanegea, " he said, "I, and the Wyandots who are with me, havecome far. We expected to return long ago to the lands on the Ohio, butwe were with you in your village, and now, when Manitou has turned hisface from you for the time, we will not leave you. We stay and fight byyour side. "

Thayendanegea stood up, and Timmendiquas stood up, also. 

"You are a great chief, White Lightning of the Wyandots, " he said, "andyou and I are brothers. I shall be proud and happy to have such a mightyleader fighting with me. We will have vengeance for this. The power ofthe Iroquois is as great as ever. "

He raised himself to his full height, pointing to the fire, and theflames of hate and resolve burned in his eyes. Old Hiokatoo, the mostsavage of all the chiefs, shook his tomahawk, and a murmur passedthrough the group of Indians. 

Braxton Wyatt still talked in whispers to his new friend, Coleman, the Tory, who was more to his liking than the morose and savage WalterButler, whom he somewhat feared. Wyatt was perhaps the least troubledof all those present. Caring for himself only, the burning of Oghwagacaused him no grief. He suffered neither from the misfortune of friendnor foe. He was able to contemplate the glowing tower of light withcuriosity only. Braxton Wyatt knew that the Iroquois and their allieswould attempt revenge for the burning of Oghwaga, and he saw profit forhimself in such adventures. His horizon had broadened somewhat of late. The renegade, Blackstaffe, had returned to rejoin Simon Girty, but hehad found a new friend in Coleman. He was coming now more into touchwith the larger forces in the East, nearer to the seat of the great war, and he hoped to profit by it. 

"This is a terrible blow to Brant, " Coleman whispered to him. "TheIroquois have been able to ravage the whole frontier, while the rebels, occupied with the king's troops, have not been able to send help totheir own. But they have managed to strike at last, as you see. "

"I do see, " said Wyatt, "and on the whole, Coleman, I'm not sorry. Perhaps these chiefs won't be so haughty now, and they'll soon realizethat they need likely chaps such as you and me, eh, Coleman. "

"You're not far from the truth, " said Coleman, laughing a little, andpleased at the penetration of his new friend. They did not talk further, although the agreement between them was well established. Neither didthe Indian chiefs or the Tory leaders say any more. They watched thetower of fire a long time, past midnight, until it reached its zenithand then began to sink. They saw its crest go down behind the trees, and they saw the luminous cloud in the south fade and go out entirely, leaving there only the darkness that reined everywhere else. 

Then the Indian and Tory leaders rose and silently marched northward. Itwas nearly dawn when Henry and his comrades lay down for the rest thatthey needed badly. They spread their blankets at the edge of the open, but well back from the burned area, which was now one great mass ofcoals and charred timbers, sending up little flame but much smoke. Manyof the troops were already asleep, but Henry, before lying down, beggedWilliam Gray to keep a strict watch lest the Iroquois attack fromambush. He knew that the rashness and confidence of the borderers, especially when drawn together in masses, had often caused them greatlosses, and he was resolved to prevent a recurrence at the presenttime if he could. He had made these urgent requests of Gray, instead ofColonel Butler, because of the latter's youth and willingness to takeadvice. 

"I'll have the forest beat up continually all about the town, " he said. "We must not have our triumph spoiled by any afterclap. "

Henry and his comrades, wrapped in their blankets, lay in a row almostat the edge of the forest. The heat from the fire was still great, butit would die down after a while, and the October air was nipping. Henryusually fell asleep in a very few minutes, but this time, despite hislong exertions and lack of rest, he remained awake when his comradeswere sound asleep. Then he fell into a drowsy state, in which he sawthe fire rising in great black coils that united far above. It seemed toHenry, half dreaming and forecasting the future, that the Indian spiritwas passing in the smoke. 

When he fell asleep it was nearly daylight, and in three or four hourshe was up again, as the little army intended to march at once uponanother Indian town. The hours while he slept had passed in silence, andno Indians had come near. William Gray had seen to that, and his bestscout had been one Cornelius Heemskerk, a short, stout man of Dutchbirth. 

"It was one long, long tramp for me, Mynheer Henry, " said Heemskerk, as he revolved slowly up to the camp fire where Henry was eating hisbreakfast, "and I am now very tired. It was like walking four or fivetimes around Holland, which is such a fine little country, with thecanals and the flowers along them, and no great, dark woods filled withthe fierce Iroquois. "

"Still, I've a notion, Mynheer Heemskerk, that you'd rather be here, andperhaps before the day is over you will get some fighting hot enough toplease even you. "

Mynheer Heemskerk threw up his hands in dismay, but a half hour laterhe was eagerly discussing with Henry the possibility of overtaking somelarge band of retreating Iroquois. 

Urged on by all the scouts and by those who had suffered at Wyoming, Colonel Butler gathered his forces and marched swiftly that very morningup the river against another Indian town, Cunahunta. Fortunately forhim, a band of riflemen and scouts unsurpassed in skill led the way, andsaw to it that the road was safe. In this band were the five, of course, and after them Heemskerk, young Taylor, and several others. 

"If the Iroquois do not get in our way, we'll strike Cunahunta beforenight, " said Heemskerk, who knew the way. 

"It seems to me that they will certainly try to save their towns, " saidHenry. "Surely Brant and the Tories will not let us strike so great ablow without a fight. "

"Most of their warriors are elsewhere, Mynheer Henry, " said Heemskerk, "or they would certainly give us a big battle. We've been lucky in thetime of our advance. As it is, I think we'll have something to do. "

It was now about noon, the noon of a beautiful October day of the North, the air like life itself, the foliage burning red on the hills, theleaves falling softly from the trees as the wind blew, but bringing withthem no hint of decay. None of the vanguard felt fatigue, but when theycrossed a low range of hills and saw before them a creek flowing downto the Susquehanna, Henry, who was in the lead, stopped suddenly anddropped down in the grass. The others, knowing without question thesignificance of the action, also sank down. 

"What is it, Henry?" asked Shif'less Sol. 

"You see how thick the trees are on the other side of that bank. Looka little to the left of a big oak, and you will see the feathers in theheaddress of an Iroquois. Farther on I think I can catch a glimpse ofa green coat, and if I am right that coat is worn by one of Johnson'sRoyal Greens. It's an ambush, Sol, an ambush meant for us. "

"But it's not an ambush intended for our main force, Mynheer Henry, "said Heemskerk, whose red face began to grow redder with the desire foraction. "I, too, see the feather of the Iroquois. "

"As good scouts and skirmishers it's our duty, then, to clear this forceout of the way, and not wait for the main body to come up, is it not?"asked Henry, with a suggestive look at the Dutchman. 

"What a goot head you have, Mynheer Henry!" exclaimed Heemskerk. "Ofcourse we will fight, and fight now!"

"How about them blue plates?" said Shif'less Sol softly. But Heemskerkdid not hear him. 

They swiftly developed their plan of action. There could be no earthlydoubt of the fact that the Iroquois and some Tories were ambushed onthe far side of the creek. Possibly Thayendanegea himself, stung by theburning of Oghwaga and the advance on Cunahunta, was there. But theywere sure that it was not a large band. 

The party of Henry and Heemskerk numbered fourteen, but every one was aveteran, full of courage, tenacity, and all the skill of the woods. They had supreme confidence in their ability to beat the best of theIroquois, man for man, and they carried the very finest arms known tothe time. 

It was decided that four of the men should remain on the hill. Theothers, including the five, Heemskerk, and Taylor, would make a circuit, cross the creek a full mile above, and come down on the flank of theambushing party. Theirs would be the main attack, but it would bepreceded by sharpshooting from the four, intended to absorb theattention of the Iroquois. The chosen ten slipped back down the hill, and as soon as they were sheltered from any possible glimpse by thewarriors, they rose and ran rapidly westward. Before they had gone farthey heard the crack of a rifle shot, then another, then several fromanother point, as if in reply. 

"It's our sharpshooters, " said Henry. "They've begun to disturb theIroquois, and they'll keep them busy. "

"Until we break in on their sport and keep them still busier, " exclaimedHeemskerk, revolving swiftly through the bushes, his face blazing red. 

It did not take long for such as they to go the mile or so that theyintended, and then they crossed the creek, wading in the water breasthigh, but careful to keep their ammunition dry. Then they turned andrapidly descended the stream on its northern bank. In a few minutes theyheard the sound of a rifle shot, and then of another as if replying. 

"The Iroquois have been fooled, " exclaimed Heemskerk. "Our four goodriflemen have made them think that a great force is there, and they havenot dared to cross the creek themselves and make an attack. "

In a few minutes more, as they ran noiselessly through the forest, theysaw a little drifting smoke, and now and then the faint flash of rifles. They were coming somewhere near to the Iroquois band, and they practicedexceeding caution. Presently they caught sight of Indian faces, and nowand then one of Johnson's Greens or Butler's Rangers. They stopped andheld a council that lasted scarcely more than half a minute. They allagreed there was but one thing to do, and that was to attack in theIndian's own way-that is, by ambush and sharpshooting. 

Henry fired the first shot, and an Iroquois, aiming at a foe on theother side of the creek, fell. Heemskerk quickly followed with a shot asgood, and the surprised Iroquois turned to face this new foe. But theyand the Tories were a strong band, and they retreated only a little. Then they stood firm, and the forest battle began. The Indians numberednot less than thirty, and both Braxton Wyatt and Coleman were with them, but the value of skill was here shown by the smaller party, the onethat attacked. The frontiersmen, trained to every trick and wile ofthe forest, and marksmen such as the Indians were never able to become, continually pressed in and drove the Iroquois from tree to tree. Once ortwice the warriors started a rush, but they were quickly driven back bysharpshooting such as they had never faced before. They soon realizedthat this was no band of border farmers, armed hastily for an emergency, but a foe who knew everything that they knew, and more. 

Braxton Wyatt and his friend Coleman fought with the Iroquois, and Wyattin particular was hot with rage. He suspected that the five who haddefeated him so often were among these marksmen, and there might be achance now to destroy them all. He crept to the side of the fierce oldSeneca chief, Hiokatoo, and suggested that a part of their band sliparound and enfold the enemy. 

Old Hiokatoo, in the thick of battle now, presented his most terrifyingaspect. He was naked save the waist cloth, his great body was coveredwith scars, and, as he bent a little forward, he held cocked and readyin his hands a fine rifle that had been presented to him by his goodfriend, the king. The Senecas, it may be repeated, had suffered terriblyat the Battle of the Oriskany in the preceding year, and throughoutthese years of border were the most cruel of all the Iroquois. In thisrespect Hiokatoo led all the Senecas, and now Braxton Wyatt used as hewas to savage scenes, was compelled to admit to himself that this wasthe most terrifying human being whom he had ever beheld. He was old, butage in him seemed merely to add to his strength and ferocity. The pathof a deep cut, healed long since, but which the paint even did not hide, lay across his forehead. Others almost as deep adorned his right cheek, his chin, and his neck. He was crouched much like a panther, with hisrifle in his hands and the ready tomahawk at his belt. But it was theextraordinary expression of his eyes that made Braxton Wyatt shudder. Heread there no mercy for anything, not even for himself, Braxton Wyatt, if he should stand in the way, and it was this last fact that broughtthe shudder. 

Hiokatoo thought it a good plan. Twenty warriors, mostly Senecas andCayugas, were detailed to execute it at once, and they stole off towardthe right. Henry had suspected some such diversion, and, as he had beenjoined now by the four men from the other side of the creek, he disposedhis little force to meet it. Both Shif'less Sol and Heemskerk had caughtsight of figures slipping away among the trees, and Henry craftily drewback a little. While two or three men maintained the sharpshootingin the front, he waited for the attack. It came in half an hour, theflanking force making a savage and open rush, but the fire of the whiteriflemen was so swift and deadly that they were driven back again. Butthey had come very near, and a Tory rushed directly at young Taylor. The Tory, like Taylor, had come from Wyoming, and he had been one ofthe most ruthless on that terrible day. When they were less than a dozenfeet apart they recognized each other. Henry saw the look that passedbetween them, and, although he held a loaded rifle in his hand, for somereason he did not use it. The Tory fired a pistol at Taylor, but thebullet missed, and the Wyoming youth, leaping forth, swung his unloadedrifle and brought the stock down with all his force upon the head of hisenemy. The man, uttering a single sound, a sort of gasp, fell dead, andTaylor stood over him, still trembling with rage. In an instant Henryseized him and dragged him down, and then a Seneca bullet whistled wherehe had been. 

"He was one of the worst at Wyoming-I saw him!" exclaimed young Taylor, still trembling all over with passion. 

"He'll never massacre anybody else. You've seen to that, " said Henry, and in a minute or two Taylor was quiet. The sharpshooting continued, but here as elsewhere, the Iroquois had the worst of it. Despite theirnumbers, they could not pass nor flank that line of deadly marksmen wholay behind trees almost in security, and who never missed. Another Toryand a chief, also, were killed, and Braxton Wyatt was daunted. Nor didhe feel any better when old Hiokatoo crept to his side. 

"We have failed here, " he said. "They shoot too well for us to rushthem. We have lost good men. " Hiokatoo frowned, and the scars on hisface stood out in livid red lines. 

"It is so, " he said. "These who fight us now are of their best, andwhile we fight, the army that destroyed Oghwaga is coming up. Come, wewill go. "

The little white band soon saw that the Indians were gone from theirfront. They scouted some distance, and, finding no enemy, hurried backto Colonel Butler. The troops were pushed forward, and before night theyreached Cunahunta, which they burned also. Some farther advance wasmade into the Indian country, and more destruction was done, but now thewinter was approaching, and many of the men insisted upon returning hometo protect their families. Others were to rejoin the main Revolutionaryarmy, and the Iroquois campaign was to stop for the time. The first blowhad been struck, and it was a hard one, but the second blow and thirdand fourth and more, which the five knew were so badly needed, mustwait. 

Henry and his comrades were deeply disappointed. They had hoped to gofar into the Iroquois country, to break the power of the Six Nations, tohunt down the Butlers and the Johnsons and Brant himself, but they couldnot wholly blame their commander. The rear guard, or, rather, the forestguard of the Revolution, was a slender and small force indeed. 

Henry and his comrades said farewell to Colonel Butler with muchpersonal regret, and also to the gallant troops, some of whom wereMorgan's riflemen from Virginia. The farewells to William Gray, BobTaylor, and Cornelius Heemskerk were more intimate. 

"I think we'll see more of one another in other campaigns, " said Gray. 

"We'll be on the battle line, side by side, once more, " said Taylor, "and we'll strike another blow for Wyoming. "

"I foresee, " said Cornelius Heemskerk, "that I, a peaceful man, whoought to be painting blue plates in Holland, will be drawn into dangerin the great, dark wilderness again, and that you will be there withme, Mynheer Henry, Mynheer Paul, Mynheer the Wise Solomon, Mynheer theSilent Tom, and Mynheer the Very Long James. I see it clearly. I, a manof peace, am always being pushed in to war. "

"We hope it will come true, " said the five together. 

"Do you go back to Kentucky?" asked William Gray. 

"No, " replied Henry, speaking for them all, "we have entered upon thistask here, and we are going to stay in it until it is finished. "

"It is dangerous, the most dangerous thing in the world, " saidHeemskerk. "I still have my foreknowledge that I shall stand by yourside in some great battle to come, but the first thing I shall do whenI see you again, my friends, is to look around at you, one, two, three, four, five, and see if you have upon your heads the hair which is now sorich, thick, and flowing. "

"Never fear, my friend, " said Henry, "we have fought with the warriorsall the way from the Susquehanna to New Orleans and not one of us haslost a single lock of hair. "

"It is one Dutchman's hope that it will always be so, " said Heemskerk, and then he revolved rapidly away lest they see his face expressemotion. 

The five received great supplies of powder and bullets from ColonelButler, and then they parted in the forest. Many of the soldiers lookedback and saw the five tall figures in a line, leaning upon the muzzlesof their long-barreled Kentucky rifles, and regarding them in silence. It seemed to the soldiers that they had left behind them the true sonsof the wilderness, who, in spite of all dangers, would be there towelcome them when they returned. 

CHAPTER XVII. THE DESERTED CABIN

When the last soldier had disappeared among the trees, Henry turned tothe others. "Well, boys, " he asked, "what are you thinking about?"

"I?" asked Paul. "I'm thinking about a certain place I know, a sort ofalcove or hole in a cliff above a lake. "

"An' me?" said Shif'less Sol. "I'm thinkin' how fur that alcove runsback, an' how it could be fitted up with furs an' made warm fur thewinter. "

"Me?" said Tom Ross. "I'm thinkin' what a snug place that alcove wouldbe when the snow an' hail were drivin' down the creek in front of you. "

"An' ez fur me, " said Long Jim Hart, "I wuz thinkin' I could run a sortuv flue from the back part uv that alcove out through the front an' letthe smoke pass out. I could cook all right. It wouldn't be ez good aplace fur cookin' ez the one we hed that time we spent the winter on theisland in the lake, but 'twould serve. "

"It's strange, " said Henry, "but I've been thinking of all the thingsthat all four of you have been thinking about, and, since we are agreed, we are bound to go straight to 'The Alcove' and pass the winter there. "

Without another word he led the way, and the others followed. It wasapparent to everyone that they must soon find a winter base, becausethe cold had increased greatly in the last few days. The last leaveshad fallen from the trees, and a searching wind howled among the barebranches. Better shelter than blankets would soon be needed. 

On their way they passed Oghwaga, a mass of blackened ruins, among whichwolves howled, the same spectacle that Wyoming now afforded, althoughOghwaga had not been stained by blood. 

It was a long journey to "The Alcove, " but they did not hurry, seeing noneed of it, although they were warned of the wisdom of their decision bythe fact that the cold was increasing. The country in which the lake wassituated lay high, and, as all of them were quite sure that the coldwas going to be great there, they thought it wise to make preparationsagainst it, which they discussed as they walked in, leisurely fashionthrough the woods. They spoke, also, of greater things. All felt thatthey had been drawn into a mightier current than any in which they hadswam before. They fully appreciated the importance to the Revolutionof this great rearguard struggle, and at present they did not have theremotest idea of returning to Kentucky under any circumstances. 

"We've got to fight it out with Braxton Wyatt and the Iroquois, " saidHenry. "I've heard that Braxton is organizing a band of Tories of hisown, and that he is likely to be as dangerous as either of the Butlers. "

"Some day we'll end him for good an' all, " said Shif'less Sol. 

It was four or five days before they reached their alcove, and now allthe forest was bare and apparently lifeless. They came down the creek, and found their boat unharmed and untouched still among the foliage atthe base of the cliff. 

"That's one thing safe, " said Long Jim, "an' I guess we'll find 'TheAlcove' all right, too. "

"Unless a wild animal has taken up its abode there, " said Paul. 

"'Tain't likely, " replied Long Jim. "We've left the human smell thar, an' even after all this time it's likely to drive away any prowlin' bearor panther that pokes his nose in. "

Long Jim was quite right. Their snug nest, like that of a squirrel inthe side of a tree, had not been disturbed. The skins which theyhad rolled up tightly and placed on the higher shelves of stone wereuntouched, and several days' hunting increased the supply. The huntingwas singularly easy, and, although the five did not know it, thequantity of game was much greater in that region than it had beenfor years. It had been swept of human beings by the Iroquois and Toryhordes, and deer, bear, and panther seemed to know instinctively thatthe woods were once more safe for them. 

In their hunting they came upon the ruins of charred houses, and morethan once they saw something among the coals that caused them to turnaway with a shudder. At every place where man had made a little openingthe wilderness was quickly reclaiming its own again. Next year the grassand the foliage would cover up the coals and the hideous relics that layamong them. 

They jerked great quantities of venison on the trees on the cliff side, and stored it in "The Alcove. " They also cured some bear meat, and, having added a further lining of skins, they felt prepared for winter. They had also added to the comfort of the place. They had taken theprecaution of bringing with them two axes, and with the heads of thesethey smoothed out more of the rough places on the floor and sides of"The Alcove. " They thought it likely, too, that they would need the axesin other ways later on. 

Only once during these arrangements did they pass the trail of Indians, and that was made by a party of about twenty, at least ten miles from"The Alcove. " They seemed to be traveling north, and the five made noinvestigations. Somewhat later they met a white runner in the forest, and he told them of the terrible massacre of Cherry Valley. WalterButler, emulating his father's exploit at Wyoming, had come down with amixed horde of Iroquois, Tories, British, and Canadians. He had notbeen wholly successful, but he had slaughtered half a hundred women andchildren, and was now returning northward with prisoners. Some said, according to the runner, that Thayendanegea had led the Indians on thisoccasion, but, as the five learned later, he had not come up until themassacre was over. The runner added another piece of information thatinterested them deeply. Butler had been accompanied to Cherry Valley bya young Tory or renegade named Wyatt, who had distinguished himself bycunning and cruelty. It was said that Wyatt had built up for himself asemi-independent command, and was becoming a great scourge. 

"That's our Braxton, " said Henry. "He is rising to his opportunities. Heis likely to become fully the equal of Walter Butler. "

But they could do nothing at present to find Wyatt, and they wentsomewhat sadly back to "The Alcove. " They had learned also from therunner that Wyatt had a lieutenant, a Tory named Coleman, and this factincreased their belief that Wyatt was undertaking to operate on a largescale. 

"We may get a chance at him anyhow, " said Henry. "He and his band may gotoo far away from the main body of the Indians and Tories, and in thatcase we can strike a blow if we are watchful. "

Every one of the five, although none of them knew it, received anadditional impulse from this news about Braxton Wyatt. He had grown upwith them. Loyalty to the king had nothing to do with his becoming arenegade or a Tory; he could not plead lost lands or exile for takingpart in such massacres as Wyoming or Cherry Valley, but, long since anally of the Indians, he was now at the head of a Tory band that murderedand burned from sheer pleasure. 

"Some day we'll get him, as shore as the sun rises an' sets, " saidShif'less Sol, repeating Henry's prediction. 

But for the present they "holed up, " and now their foresight wasjustified. To such as they, used to the hardships of forest life, "TheAlcove" was a cheery nest. From its door they watched the wild fowlstreaming south, pigeons, ducks, and others outlined against the dark, wintry skies. So numerous were these flocks that there was scarcely atime when they did not see one passing toward the warm South. 

Shif'less Sol and Paul sat together watching a great flock of wildgeese, arrow shaped, and flying at almost incredible speed. A fewfaint honks came to them, and then the geese grew misty on the horizon. Shif'less Sol followed them with serious eyes. 

"Do you ever think, Paul, " he said, "that we human bein's ain't somighty pow'ful ez we think we are. We kin walk on the groun', an' byhard learnin' an' hard work we kin paddle through the water a little. But jest look at them geese flyin' a mile high, right over everything, rivers, forests any mountains, makin' a hundred miles an hour, almostwithout flappin' a wing. Then they kin come down on the water an' floatfur hours without bein' tired, an' they kin waddle along on the groun', too. Did you ever hear of any men who had so many 'complishments? Why, Paul, s'pose you an' me could grow wings all at once, an' go through theair a mile a minute fur a month an' never git tired. "

"We'd certainly see some great sights, " said Paul, "but do you know, Sol, what would be the first thing I'd do if I had the gift of tirelesswings?"

"Fly off to them other continents I've heard you tell about. "

"No, I'd swoop along over the forests up here until I picked out all thecamps of the Indians and Tories. I'd pick out the Butlers and BraxtonWyatt and Coleman, and see what mischief they were planning. Then I'dfly away to the East and look down at all the armies, ours in buff andblue, and the British redcoats. I'd look into the face of our greatcommander-in-chief. Then I'd fly away back into the West and South, andI'd hover over Wareville. I'd see our own people, every last little oneof them. They might take a shot at me, not knowing who I was, but I'dbe so high up in the air no bullet could reach me. Then I'd come soaringback here to you fellows. "

"That would shorely be a grand trip, Paul, " said Shif'less Sol, "an' Iwouldn't mind takin' it in myself. But fur the present we'd better busyour minds with the warnin's the wild fowl are givin' us, though we'rewell fixed fur a house already. It's cu'rus what good homes a handy mankin find in the wilderness. "

The predictions of the wild fowl were true. A few days later heavyclouds rolled up in the southwest, and the five watched them, knowingwhat they would bring them. They spread to the zenith and then to theother horizon, clothing the whole circle of the earth. The great flakesbegan to drop down, slowly at first, then faster. Soon all the treeswere covered with white, and everything else, too, except the darksurface of the lake, which received the flakes into its bosom as theyfell. 

It snowed all that day and most of the next, until it lay about two feeton the ground. After that it turned intensely cold, the surface of thesnow froze, and ice, nearly a foot thick, covered the lake. It was notpossible to travel under such circumstances without artificial help, andnow Tom Ross, who had once hunted in the far North, came to their help. He showed them how to make snowshoes, and, although all learned to usethem, Henry, with his great strength and peculiar skill, became by farthe most expert. 

As the snow with its frozen surface lay on the ground for weeks, Henrytook many long journeys on the snowshoes. Sometimes be hunted, butoftener his role was that of scout. He cautioned his friends that hemight be out-three or four days at a time, and that they need take noalarm about him unless his absence became extremely long. The winterdeepened, the snow melted, and another and greater storm came, freezingthe surface, again making the snowshoes necessary. Henry decided now totake a scout alone to the northward, and, as the others bad long sincegrown into the habit of accepting his decisions almost without question, he started at once. He was well equipped with his rifle, double barreledpistol, hatchet, and knife, and he carried in addition a heavy blanketand some jerked venison. He put on his snowshoes at the foot of thecliff, waved a farewell to the four heads thrust from "The Alcove"above, and struck out on the smooth, icy surface of the creek. From thishe presently passed into the woods, and for a long time pursued a coursealmost due north. 

It was no vague theory that had drawn Henry forth. In one of hisjourneyings be had met a hunter who told him of a band of Tories andIndians encamped toward the north, and he had an idea that it was theparty led by Braxton Wyatt. Now he meant to see. 

His information was very indefinite, and he began to discover signs muchearlier than he had expected. Before the end of the first day he saw thetraces of other snowshoe runners on the icy snow, and once he came to aplace where a deer had been slain and dressed. Then he came to anotherwhere the snow had been hollowed out under some pines to make a sleepingplace for several men. Clearly he was in the land of the enemy again, and a large and hostile camp might be somewhere near. 

Henry felt a thrill of joy when he saw these indications. All theprimitive instincts leaped up within him. A child of the forest and ofelemental conditions, the warlike instinct was strong within him. Hewas tired of hunting wild animals, and now there was promise of a' moredangerous foe. For the purposes that he had in view he was glad thathe was alone. The wintry forest, with its two feet of snow covered withice, contained no terrors for him. He moved on his snowshoes almost likea skater, and with all the dexterity of an Indian of the far North, whois practically born on such shoes. 

As he stood upon the brow of a little hill, elevated upon his snowshoes, he was, indeed, a wonderful figure. The added height and the white glarefrom the ice made him tower like a great giant. He was clad completelyin soft, warm deerskin, his hands were gloved in the same material, and the fur cap was drawn tightly about his head and ears. Theslender-barreled rifle lay across his shoulder, and the blanket and deermeat made a light package on his back. Only his face was uncovered, andthat was rosy with the sharp but bracing cold. But the resolute blueeyes seemed to have grown more resolute in the last six months, and thefirm jaw was firmer than ever. 

It was a steely blue sky, clear, hard, and cold, fitted to the earthof snow and ice that it inclosed. His eyes traveled the circle of thehorizon three times, and at the end of the third circle he made out adim, dark thread against that sheet of blue steel. It was the light of acamp fire, and that camp fire must belong to an enemy. It was not likelythat anybody else would be sending forth such a signal in this wintrywilderness. 

Henry judged that the fire was several miles away, and apparently in asmall valley hemmed in by hills of moderate height. He made up his mindthat the band of Braxton Wyatt was there, and he intended to make athorough scout about it. He advanced until the smoke line became muchthicker and broader, and then he stopped in the densest clump of bushesthat he could find. He meant to remain there until darkness came, because, with all foliage gone from the forest, it would be impossibleto examine the hostile camp by day. The bushes, despite the lack ofleaves, were so dense that they hid him well, and, breaking through thecrust of ice, he dug a hole. Then, having taken off his snowshoes andwrapped his blanket about his body, he thrust himself into the holeexactly like a rabbit in its burrow. He laid his shoes on the crust ofice beside him. Of course, if found there by a large party of warriorson snowshoes he would have no chance to flee, but he was willing to takewhat seemed to him a small risk. The dark would not be long in coming, and it was snug and warm in the hole. As he sat, his head rose justabove the surrounding ice, but his rifle barrel rose much higher. He atea little venison for supper, and the weariness in the ankles that comesfrom long traveling on snowshoes disappeared. 

He could not see outside the bushes, but he listened with thoseuncommonly keen ears of his. No sound at all came. There was not evena wind to rustle the bare boughs. The sun hung a huge red globe in thewest, and all that side of the earth was tinged with a red glare, wintryand cold despite its redness. Then, as the earth turned, the sun waslost behind it, and the cold dark came. 

Henry found it so comfortable in his burrow that all his muscles weresoothed, and he grew sleepy. It would have been very pleasant to dozethere, but he brought himself round with an effort of the will, andbecame as wide awake as ever. He was eager to be off on his expedition, but he knew how much depended on waiting, and he waited. One hour, twohours, three hours, four hours, still and dark, passed in the forestbefore he roused himself from his covert. Then, warm, strong, andtempered like steel for his purpose, he put on his snowshoes, andadvanced toward the point from which the column of smoke had risen. 

He had never been more cautious and wary than he was now. He was aformidable figure in the darkness, crouched forward, and moving likesome spirit of the wilderness, half walking, half gliding. 

Although the night had come out rather clear, with many cold starstwinkling in the blue, the line of smoke was no longer visible. ButHenry did not expect it to be, nor did he need it. He had marked itsbase too clearly in his mind to make any mistake, and he advanced withcertainty. He came presently into an open space, and he stopped withamazement. Around him were the stumps of a clearing made recently, andnear him were some yards of rough rail fence. 

He crouched against the fence, and saw on the far side of the clearingthe dim outlines of several buildings, from the chimneys of two ofwhich smoke was rising. It was his first thought that he had come upona little settlement still held by daring borderers, but second thoughttold him that it was impossible. Another and more comprehensive lookshowed many signs of ruin. He saw remains of several burned houses, butclothing all was the atmosphere of desolation and decay that tellswhen a place is abandoned. The two threads of smoke did not alter thisimpression. 

Henry divined it all. The builders of this tiny village in thewilderness bad been massacred or driven away. A part of the houses hadbeen destroyed, some were left standing, and now there were visitors. Headvanced without noise, keeping behind the rail fence, and approachingone of the houses from the chimneys of which the smoke came. Here becrouched a long time, looking and listening attentively; but it seemedthat the visitors had no fears. Why should they, when there was nothingthat they need fear in this frozen wilderness?

Henry stole a little nearer. It had been a snug, trim little settlement. Perhaps twenty-five or thirty people had lived there, literally hewinga home out of the forest. His heart throbbed with a fierce hatred and, anger against those who had spoiled all this, and his gloved fingercrept to the hammer of his rifle. 

The night was intensely cold. The mercury was far below zero, and a windthat had begun to rise cut like the edge of a knife. Even the wariest ofIndians in such desolate weather might fail to keep a watch. But Henrydid not suffer. The fur cap was drawn farther over chin and ears, andthe buckskin gloves kept his fingers warm and flexible. Besides, hisblood was uncommonly hot in his veins. 

His comprehensive eye told him that, while some of the buildings had notbeen destroyed, they were so ravaged and damaged that they could neverbe used again, save as a passing shelter, just as they were being usednow. He slid cautiously about the desolate place. He crossed a brook, frozen almost solidly in its bed, and he saw two or three large moundsthat had been haystacks, now covered with snow. 

Then he slid without noise back to the nearest of the houses from whichthe smoke came. It was rather more pretentious than the others, built ofplanks instead of logs, and with shingles for a roof. The remains of asmall portico formed the approach to the front door. Henry supposed thatthe house had been set on fire and that perhaps a heavy rain had saved apart of it. 

A bar of light falling across the snow attracted his attention. He knewthat it was the glow of a fire within coming through a window. A faintsound of voices reached his ears, and he moved forward slowly to thewindow. It was an oaken shutter originally fastened with a leatherstrap, but the strap was gone, and now some one had tied it, though nottightly, with a deer tendon. The crack between shutter and wall was atleast three inches, and Henry could see within very well. 

He pressed his side tightly to the wall and put his eyes to the crevice. What he saw within did not still any of those primitive feelings thathad risen so strongly in his breast. 

A great fire had been built in the log fireplace, but it was burningsomewhat low now, having reached that mellow period of least cracklingand greatest heat. The huge bed of coals threw a mass of varied andglowing colors across the floor. Large holes had been burned in the sideof the room by the original fire, but Indian blankets had been fastenedtightly over them. 

In front of the fire sat Braxton Wyatt in a Loyalist uniform, athree-cornered hat cocked proudly on his head, and a small sword by hisside. He had grown heavier, and Henry saw that the face had increasedmuch in coarseness and cruelty. It had also increased in satisfaction. He was a great man now, as he saw great men, and both face and figureradiated gratification and pride as he lolled before the fire. At theother corner, sitting upon the floor and also in a Loyalist uniform, was his lieutenant, Levi Coleman, older, heavier, and with a short, uncommonly muscular figure. His face was dark and cruel, with small eyesset close together. A half dozen other white men and more than a dozenIndians were in the room. All these lay upon their blankets on thefloor, because all the furniture had been destroyed. Yet they hadeaten, and they lay there content in the soothing glow of the fire, likeanimals that had fed well. Henry was so near that he could hear everyword anyone spoke. 

"It was well that the Indians led us to this place, eh, Levi?" saidWyatt. 

"I'm glad the fire spared a part of it, " said Coleman. "Looks as if itwas done just for us, to give us a shelter some cold winter night whenwe come along. I guess the Iroquois Aieroski is watching over us. "

Wyatt laughed. 

"You're a man that I like, Levi, " he said. "You can see to the inside ofthings. It would be a good idea to use this place as a base and shelter, and make a raid on some of the settlements east of the hills, eh, Levi?"

"It could be done, " said Coleman. "But just listen to that wind, willyou! On a night like this it must cut like a saber's edge. Even ourIroquois are glad to be under a roof. "

Henry still gazed in at the crack with eyes that were lighted up by anangry fire. So here was more talk of destruction and slaughter! His gazealighted upon an Indian who sat in a corner engaged upon a task. Henrylooked more closely, and saw that he was stretching a blonde-hairedscalp over a small hoop. A shudder shook his whole frame. Only those wholived amid such scenes could understand the intensity of his feelings. He felt, too, a bitter sense of injustice. The doers of these deeds werehere in warmth and comfort, while the innocent were dead or fugitives. He turned away from the window, stepping gently upon the snowshoes. Heinferred that the remainder of Wyatt's band were quartered in the otherhouse from which he had seen the smoke rising. It was about twenty rodsaway, but he did not examine it, because a great idea had been bornsuddenly in his brain. The attempt to fulfill the idea would beaccompanied by extreme danger, but he did not hesitate a moment. Hestole gently to one of the half-fallen outhouses and went inside. Herehe found what he wanted, a large pine shelf that had been sheltered fromrain and that was perfectly dry. He scraped off a large quantity of thedry pine until it formed almost a dust, and he did not cease until hehad filled his cap with it. Then he cut off large splinters, untilhe had accumulated a great number, and after that he gathered smallerpieces of half-burned pine. 

He was fully two hours doing this work, and the night advanced far, buthe never faltered. His head was bare, but he was protected from thewind by a fragment of the outhouse wall. Every two or three minutes hestopped and listened for the sound of a creaking, sliding footstep onthe snow, but, never hearing any, he always resumed his work with thesame concentration. All the while the wind rose and moaned through theruins of the little village. When Henry chanced to raise his head abovethe sheltering wall, it was like the slash of a knife across his cheek. 

Finally he took half of the pine dust in his cap and a lot of thesplinters under his arm, and stole back to the house from which thelight had shone. He looked again through the crevice at the window. Thelight had died down much more, and both Wyatt and Coleman were asleep onthe floor. But several of the Iroquois were awake, although they sat assilent and motionless as stones against the wall. 

Henry moved from the window and selected a sheltered spot beside theplank wall. There he put the pine dust in a little heap on the snowand covered it over with pine splinters, on top of which he put largerpieces of pine. Then he went back for the remainder of the pine dust, and built a similar pyramid against a sheltered side of the secondhouse. 

The most delicate part of his task had now come, one that good fortuneonly could aid him in achieving, but the brave youth, his heart aflamewith righteous anger against those inside, still pursued the work. Hisheart throbbed, but hand and eye were steady. 

Now came the kindly stroke of fortune for which he had hoped. The windrose much higher and roared harder against the house. It would preventthe Iroquois within, keen of ear as they were, from hearing a lightsound without. Then he drew forth his flint and steel and struck themtogether with a hand so strong and swift that sparks quickly leapedforth and set fire to the pine tinder. Henry paused only long enough tosee the flame spread to the splinters, and then he ran rapidly to theother house, where the task was repeated-he intended that his job shouldbe thorough. 

Pursuing this resolve to make his task complete, he came back to thefirst house and looked at his fire. It had already spread to the largerpieces of pine, and it could not go out now. The sound made by theflames blended exactly with the roaring of the wind, and another minuteor two might pass before the Iroquois detected it. 

Now his heart throbbed again, and exultation was mingled with his anger. By the time the Iroquois were aroused to the danger the flames would beso high that the wind would reach them. Then no one could put them out. 

It might have been safer for him to flee deep into the forest at once, but that lingering desire to make his task complete and, also, the wishto see the result kept him from doing it. He merely walked across theopen space and stood behind a tree at the edge of the forest. 

Braxton Wyatt and his Tories and Iroquois were very warm, very snug, inthe shelter of the old house with the great bed of coals before them. They may even have been dreaming peaceful and beautiful dreams, whensuddenly an Iroquois sprang to his feet and uttered a cry that awoke allthe rest. 

"I smell smoke!" he exclaimed in his tongue, "and there is fire, too! Ihear it crackle outside!"

Braxton Wyatt ran to the window and jerked it open. Flame and smoke blewin his face. He uttered an angry cry, and snatched at the pistol in hisbelt. 

"The whole side of the house is on fire!" he exclaimed. "Whose neglecthas done this?"

Coleman, shrewd and observing, was at his elbow. 

"The fire was set on the outside, " he said. "It was no carelessness ofour men. Some enemy has done this!"

"It is true!" exclaimed Wyatt furiously. "Out, everybody! The houseburns fast!"

There was a rush for the door. Already ashes and cinders were fallingabout their heads. Flames leaped high, were caught by the roaring winds, and roared with them. The shell of the house would soon be gone, andwhen Tories and Iroquois were outside they saw the remainder of theirband pouring forth from the other house, which was also in flames. 

No means of theirs could stop so great a fire, and they stood in a sortof stupefaction, watching it as it was fanned to greatest heights by thewind. 

All the remaining outbuildings caught, also, and in a few momentsnothing whatever would be left of the tiny village. Braxton Wyatt andhis band must lie in the icy wilderness, and they could never use thisplace as a basis for attack upon settlements. 

"How under the sun could it have happened?" exclaimed Wyatt. 

"It didn't happen. It was done, " said Coleman. "Somebody set thesehouses on fire while we slept within. Hark to that!"

An Iroquois some distance from the houses was bending over the snowwhere it was not yet melted by the heat. He saw there the track ofsnowshoes, and suddenly, looking toward the forest, whither they led, hesaw a dark figure flit away among the trees. 

CHAPTER XVIII. HENRY'S SLIDE

Henry Ware, lingering at the edge of the clearing, his body hiddenbehind one of the great tree trunks, had been watching the scene witha fascinated interest that would not let him go. He knew that his workthere was done already. Everything would be utterly destroyed by theflames which, driven by the wind, leaped from one half-ruined buildingto another. Braxton Wyatt and his band would have enough to dosheltering themselves from the fierce winter, and the settlements couldrest for a while at least. Undeniably he felt exultation as he witnessedthe destructive work of his hand. The border, with its constant strugglefor-life and terrible deeds, bred fierce passions. 

In truth, although he did not know it himself, he stayed there to pleasehis eye and heart. A new pulse beat triumphantly every time a timber, burned through, fell in, or a crash came from a falling roof. He laughedinwardly as the flames disclosed the dismay on the faces of the Iroquoisand Tories, and it gave him deep satisfaction to see Braxton Wyatt, hisgaudy little sword at his thigh, stalking about helpless. It was whilehe was looking, absorbed in such feelings, that the warrior of the alerteye saw him and gave the warning shout. 

Henry turned in an instant, and darted away among the trees, halfrunning, half sliding over the smooth, icy covering of the snow. After him came warriors and some Tories who had put on their snowshoespreparatory to the search through the forest for shelter. Severalbullets were fired, but he was too far away for a good aim. He heard onego zip against a tree, and another cut the surface of the ice near him, but none touched him, and he sped easily on his snowshoes through thefrozen forest. But Henry was fully aware of one thing that constitutedhis greatest danger. Many of these Iroquois had been trained alltheir lives to snowshoes, while he, however powerful and agile, wascomparatively a beginner. He glanced back again and saw their duskyfigures running among the trees, but they did not seem to be gaining. Ifone should draw too near, there was his rifle, and no man, white or red, in the northern or southern forests, could use it better. But for thepresent it was not needed. He pressed it closely, almost lovingly, tohis side, this best friend of the scout and frontiersman. 

He had chosen his course at the first leap. It was southward, towardthe lake, and he did not make the mistake of diverging from his line, knowing that some part of the wide half circle of his pursuers wouldprofit by it. 

Henry felt a great upward surge. He had been the victor in what hemeant to achieve, and he was sure that he would escape. The cold wind, whistling by, whipped his blood and added new strength to his greatmuscles. His ankles were not chafed or sore, and he sped forward on thesnowshoes, straight and true. Whenever he came to a hill the pursuerswould gain as he went up it, but when he went down the other side itwas he who gained. He passed brooks, creeks, and once a small river, but they were frozen over, many inches deep, and he did not notice them. Again it was a lake a mile wide, but the smooth surface there merelyincreased his speed. Always he kept a wary look ahead for thicketsthrough which he could not pass easily, and once he sent back a shout ofdefiance, which the Iroquois answered with a yell of anger. 

He was fully aware that any accident to his snowshoes would prove fatal, the slipping of the thongs on his ankles or the breaking of a runnerwould end his flight, and in a long chase such an accident might happen. It might happen, too, to one or more of the Iroquois, but plenty of themwould be left. Yet Henry had supreme confidence in his snowshoes. He hadmade them himself, he had seen that every part was good, and every thonghad been fastened with care. 

The wind which bad been roaring so loudly at the time of the fire sankto nothing. The leafless trees stood up, the branches unmoving. Theforest was bare and deserted. All the animals, big and little, had goneinto their lairs. Nobody witnessed the great pursuit save pursuers andpursued. Henry kept his direction clear in his mind, and allowed theIroquois to take no advantage of a curve save once. Then he came to athicket so large that he was compelled to make a considerable circle topass it. He turned to the right, hence the Indians on the right gained, and they sent up a yell of delight. He replied defiantly and increasedhis speed. 

But one of the Indians, a flying Mohawk, had come dangerously near-nearenough, in fact, to fire a bullet that did not miss the fugitive much. It aroused Henry's anger. He took it as an indignity rather than adanger, and he resolved to avenge it. So far as firing was concerned, hewas at a disadvantage. He must stop and turn around for his shot, whilethe Iroquois, without even checking speed, could fire straight at theflying target, ahead. 

Nevertheless, he took the chance. He turned deftly on the snowshoes, fired as quick as lightning at the swift Mohawk, saw him fall, thenWhirled and resumed his flight. He had lost ground, but he had inspiredrespect. A single man could not afford to come too near to a marksman sodeadly, and the three or four who led dropped back with the main body. 

Now Henry made his greatest effort. He wished to leave the foe farbehind, to shake off his pursuit entirely. He bounded over the iceand snow with great leaps, and began to gain. Yet he felt at last theeffects of so strenuous a flight. His breath became shorter; despitethe intense cold, perspiration stood upon his face, and the straps thatfastened the snowshoes were chafing his ankles. An end must come even tosuch strength as his. Another backward look, and he saw that the foe wassinking into the darkness. If he could only increase his speed again, hemight leave the Iroquois now. He made a new call upon the will, andthe body responded. For a few minutes his speed became greater. Adisappointed shout arose behind him, and several shots were fired. Butthe bullets fell a hundred yards short, and then, as he passed over alittle hill and into a wood beyond, he was hidden from the sight of hispursuers. 

Henry knew that the Iroquois could trail him over the snow, but theycould not do it at full speed, and he turned sharply off at an angle. Pausing a second or two for fresh breath, he continued on his newcourse, although not so fast as before. He knew that the Iroquois wouldrush straight ahead, and would not discover for two or three minutesthat they were off the trail. It would take them another two or threeminutes to recover, and he would make a gain of at least five minutes. Five minutes had saved the life of many a man on the border. 

How precious those five minutes were! He would take them all. He ranforward some distance, stopped where the trees grew thick, and thenenjoyed the golden five, minute by minute. He had felt that hewas pumping the very lifeblood from his heart. His breath had comepainfully, and the thongs of the snowshoes were chafing his anklesterribly. But those minutes were worth a year. Fresh air poured into hislungs, and the muscles became elastic once more. In so brief a space hehad recreated himself. 

Resuming his flight, he went at a steady pace, resolved not to do hisutmost unless the enemy came in sight. About ten minutes later he hearda cry far behind him, and he believed it to be a signal from some Indianto the others that the trail was found again. But with so much advantagehe felt sure that he was now quite safe. He ran, although at decreasedspeed, for about two hours more, and then he sat down on the upthrustroot of a great oak. Here he depended most upon his ears. The forest wasso silent that he could hear any noise at a great distance, but therewas none. Trusting to his ears to warn him, he would remain there a longtime for a thorough rest. He even dared to take off his snowshoes thathe might rub his sore ankles, but he wrapped his heavy blanket about hisbody, lest he take deep cold in cooling off in such a temperature afterso long a flight. 

He sat enjoying a half hour, golden like the five minutes, and then hesaw, outlined against the bright, moonlit sky, something that told himhe must be on the alert again. It was a single ring of smoke, like thatfrom a cigar, only far greater. It rose steadily, untroubled by winduntil it was dissipated. It meant "attention!" and presently it wasfollowed by a column of such rings, one following another beautifully. The column said: "The foe is near. " Henry read the Indian signsperfectly. The rings were made by covering a little fire with a blanketfor a moment and then allowing the smoke to ascend. On clear days suchsignals could be seen a distance of thirty miles or more, and he knewthat they were full of significance. 

Evidently the Iroquois party had divided into two or more bands. One hadfound his trail, and was signaling to the other. The party sending upthe smoke might be a half mile away, but the others, although his trailwas yet hidden from them, might be nearer. It was again time for flight. 

He swiftly put on the snowshoes, neglecting no thong or lace, folded theblanket on his back again, and, leaving the friendly root, startedonce more. He ran forward at moderate speed for perhaps a mile, when hesuddenly heard triumphant yells on both right and left. A strong partyof Iroquois were coming up on either side, and luck had enabled them tocatch him in a trap. 

They were so near that they fired upon him, and one bullet nicked hisglove, but he was hopeful that after his long rest he might again stavethem off. He sent back no defiant cry, but, settling into determinedsilence, ran at his utmost speed. The forest here was of large trees, with no undergrowth, and he noticed that the two parties did not join, but kept on as they had come, one on the right and the other on theleft. This fact must have some significance, but he could not fathomit. Neither could he guess whether the Indians were fresh or tired, butapparently they made no effort to come within range of his rifle. 

Presently he made a fresh spurt of speed, the forest opened out, andthen both bands uttered a yell full of ferocity and joy, the kind thatsavages utter only when they see their triumph complete. 

Before, and far below Henry, stretched a vast, white expanse. He hadcome to the lake, but at a point where the cliff rose high like amountain, and steep like a wall. The surface of the lake was so far downthat it was misty white like a cloud. Now he understood the policy ofthe Indian bands in not uniting. They knew that they would soon reachthe lofty cliffs of the lake, and if he turned to either right or leftthere was a band ready to seize him. 

Henry's heart leaped up and then sank lower than ever before in hislife. It seemed that he could not escape from so complete a trap, andBraxton Wyatt was not one who would spare a prisoner. That was perhapsthe bitterest thing of all, to be taken and tortured by Braxton Wyatt. He was there. He could hear his voice in one of the bands, and then thecourage that never failed him burst into fire again. 

The Iroquois were coming toward him, shutting him out from retreatto either right or left, but not yet closing in because of his deadlyrifle. He gave them a single look, put forth his voice in one great cryof defiance, and, rushing toward the edge of the mighty cliff, sprangboldly over. 

As Henry plunged downward he heard behind him a shout of amazement andchagrin poured forth from many Iroquois throats, and, taking a singleglance backward, he caught a glimpse of dusky faces stamped with awe. But the bold youth had not made a leap to destruction. In the passageof a second he had calculated rapidly and well. While the cliff atfirst glance seemed perpendicular, it could not be so. There was a slopecoated with two feet of snow, and swinging far back on the heels ofhis snowshoes, he shot downward like one taking a tremendous slide ona toboggan. Faster and faster he went, but deeper and deeper he dug hisshoes into the snow, until he lay back almost flat against its surface. This checked his speed somewhat, but it was still very great, and, preserving his self-control perfectly, he prayed aloud to kindlyProvidence to save him from some great boulder or abrupt drop. 

The snow from his runners flew in a continuous shower behind him as hedescended. Yet he drew himself compactly together, and held his rifleparallel with his body. Once or twice, as he went over a little ridge, he shot clear of the snow, but he held his body rigid, and the snowbeyond saved him from a severe bruise. Then his speed was increasedagain, and all the time the white surface of the lake below, seen dimlythrough the night and his flight, seemed miles away. 

He might never reach that surface alive, but of one thing lie was sure. None of the Iroquois or Tories had dared to follow. Braxton Wyatt couldhave no triumph over him. He was alone in his great flight. Once aprojection caused him to turn a little to one side. He was in momentarydanger of turning entirely, and then of rolling head over heels likea huge snowball, but with a mighty effort he righted himself, andcontinued the descent on the runners, with the heels plowing into theice and the snow. 

Now that white expanse which had seemed so far away came miles nearer. Presently he would be there. The impossible had become possible, theunattainable was about to be attained. He gave another mighty dig withhis shoes, the last reach of the slope passed behind him, and he shotout on the frozen surface of the lake, bruised and breathless, butwithout a single broken bone. 

The lake was covered with ice a foot thick, and over this lay frozensnow, which stopped Henry forty or fifty yards from the cliff. There helost his balance at last, and fell on his side, where he lay for a fewmoments, weak, panting, but triumphant. 

When he stood upright again he felt his body, but he had sufferednothing save some bruises, that would heal in their own good time. Hisdeerskin clothing was much torn, particularly on the back, where he hadleaned upon the ice and snow, but the folded blanket had saved him to aconsiderable extent. One of his shoes was pulled loose, and presently hediscovered that his left ankle was smarting and burning at a great rate. But he did not mind these things at all, so complete was his sense ofvictory. He looked up at the mighty white wall that stretched above himfifteen hundred feet, and he wondered at his own tremendous exploit. The wall ran away for miles, and the Iroquois could not reach him by anyeasier path. He tried to make out figures on the brink looking down athim, but it was too far away, and he saw only a black line. 

He tightened the loose shoe and struck out across the lake. He was faraway from "The Alcove, " and he did not intend to go there, lest theIroquois, by chance, come upon his trail and follow it to the refuge. But as it was no more than two miles across the lake at that point, andthe Iroquois would have to make a great curve to reach the other side, he felt perfectly safe. He walked slowly across, conscious all thetime of an increasing pain in his left ankle, which must now be badlyswollen, and he did not stop until he penetrated some distance among lowbills. Here, under an overhanging cliff with thick bushes in front, hefound a partial shelter, which he cleared out yet further. Then withinfinite patience he built a fire with splinters that he cut from deadboughs, hung his blanket in front of it on two sticks that the flamemight not be seen, took off his snowshoes, leggins, and socks, and baredhis ankles. Both were swollen, but the left much more badly than theother. He doubted whether he would be able to walk on the following day, but he rubbed them a long time, both with the palms of his hands andwith snow, until they felt better. Then he replaced his clothing, leanedback against the faithful snowshoes which had saved his life, howevermuch they had hurt his ankles, and gave himself up to the warmth of thefire. 

It was very luxurious, this warmth and this rest, after so long andterrible a flight, and he was conscious of a great relaxation, onewhich, if he yielded to it completely, would make his muscles so stiffand painful that he could not use them. Hence he stretched his arms andlegs many times, rubbed his ankles again, and then, remembering that hehad venison, ate several strips. 

He knew that he had taken a little risk with the fire, but a fire he wasbound to have, and he fed it again until he had a great mass of glowingcoals, although there was no blaze. Then he took down the blanket, wrapped himself in it, and was soon asleep before the fire. He sleptlong and deeply, and although, when he awoke, the day had fully come, the coals were not yet out entirely. He arose, but such a violent painfrom his left ankle shot through him that he abruptly sat down again. Ashe bad feared, it had swollen badly during the night, and he could notwalk. 

In this emergency Henry displayed no petulance, no striving againstunchangeable circumstance. He drew up more wood, which he had stackedagainst the cliff, and put it on the coals. He hung up the blanket oncemore in order that it might hide the fire, stretched out his lame leg, and calmly made a breakfast off the last of his venison. He knew he wasin a plight that might appall the bravest, but he kept himself inhand. It was likely that the Iroquois thought him dead, crushed into ashapeless mass by his frightful slide of fifteen hundred feet, and hehad little fear of them, but to be unable to walk and alone in an icywilderness without food was sufficient in itself. He calculated thatit was at least a dozen miles to "The Alcove, " and the chances were ahundred to one against any of his comrades wandering his way. He lookedonce more at his swollen left ankle, and he made a close calculation. It would be three days, more likely four, before he could walk upon it. Could he endure hunger that long? He could. He would! Crouched in hisnest with his back to the cliff, he had defense against any enemy inhis rifle and pistol. By faithful watching he might catch sight of somewandering animal, a target for his rifle and then food for his stomach. His wilderness wisdom warned him that there was nothing to do but sitquiet and wait. 

He scarcely moved for hours. As long as he was still his ankle troubledhim but little. The sun came out, silver bright, but it had no warmth. The surface of the lake was shown only by the smoothness of its expanse;the icy covering was the same everywhere over hills and valleys. Acrossthe lake he saw the steep down which he had slid, looming white andlofty. In the distance it looked perpendicular, and, whatever itsterrors, it had, beyond a doubt, saved his life. He glanced down at hisswollen ankle, and, despite his helpless situation, he was thankful thathe had escaped so well. 

About noon he moved enough to throw up the snowbanks higher all aroundhimself in the fashion of an Eskimos house. Then he let the fire dieexcept some coals that gave forth no smoke, stretched the blanket overhis head in the manner of a roof, and once more resumed his quiet andstillness. He was now like a crippled animal in its lair, but he waswarm, and his wound did not hurt him. But hunger began to trouble him. He was young and so powerful that his frame demanded much sustenance. Now it cried aloud its need! He ate two or three handfuls of snow, andfor a few moments it seemed to help him a little, but his hunger sooncame back as strong as ever. Then he tightened his belt and sat in grimsilence, trying to forget that there was any such thing as food. 

The effort of the will was almost a success throughout the afternoon, but before night it failed. He began to have roseate visions of Long Jimtrying venison, wild duck, bear, and buffalo steaks over the coals. Hecould sniff the aroma, so powerful had his imagination become, and, in fancy, his month watered, while its roof was really dry. They weredaylight visions, and he knew it well, but they taunted him and made hispain fiercer. He slid forward a little to the mouth of his shelter, andthrust out his rifle in the hope that he would see some wild creature, no matter what; he felt that he could shoot it at any distance, and thenhe would feast!

He saw nothing living, either on earth or in the air, only motionlesswhite, and beyond, showing but faintly now through the coming twilight, the lofty cliff that had saved him. 

He drew back into his lair, and the darkness came down. Despite hishunger, he slept fairly well. In the night a little snow fell at times, but his blanket roof protected him, and he remained dry and warm. Thenew snow was, in a way, a satisfaction, as it completely hid his trailfrom the glance of any wandering Indian. He awoke the next morning toa gray, somber day, with piercing winds from the northwest. He did notfeel the pangs of hunger until he had been awake about a half hour, andthen they came with redoubled force. Moreover, he had become weaker inthe night, and, added to the loss of muscular strength, was a decreasein the power of the will. Hunger was eating away his mental as well ashis physical fiber. He did not face the situation with quite the sameconfidence that he felt the day before. The wilderness looked a littlemore threatening. 

His lips felt as if he were suffering from fever, and his shoulders andback were stiff. But he drew his belt tighter again, and then uncoveredhis left ankle. The swelling had gone down a little, and he could moveit with more freedom than on the day before, but he could not yet walk. Once more he made his grim calculation. In two days he could certainlywalk and hunt game or make a try for "The Alcove, " so far as his anklewas concerned, but would hunger overpower him before that time? Gainingstrength in one direction, he was losing it in another. 

Now he began to grow angry with himself. The light inroad that faminemade upon his will was telling. It seemed incredible that he, sopowerful, so skillful, so self reliant, so long used to the wildernessand to every manner of hardship, should be held there in a snowbank bya bruised ankle to die like a crippled rabbit. His comrades could not bemore than ten miles away. He could walk. He would walk! He stood uprightand stepped out into the snow, but pain, so agonizing that he couldscarcely keep from crying out, shot through his whole body, and he sankback into the shelter, sure not to make such an experiment again foranother full day. 

The day passed much like its predecessor, except that he took down theblanket cover of his snow hut and kindled up his fire again, more forthe sake of cheerfulness than for warmth, because he was not sufferingfrom cold. There was a certain life and light about the coals and thebright flame, but the relief did not last long, and by and by he let itgo out. Then be devoted himself to watching the heavens and the surfaceof the snow. Some winter bird, duck or goose, might be flying by, or awandering deer might be passing. He must not lose any such chance. Hewas more than ever a fierce creature of prey, sitting at the mouth ofhis den, the rifle across his knee, his tanned face so thin that thecheek bones showed high and sharp, his eyes bright with fever and thefierce desire for prey, and the long, lean body drawn forward as if itwere about to leap. 

He thought often of dragging himself down to the lake, breaking a holein the ice, and trying to fish, but the idea invariably came only to beabandoned. He had neither hook nor bait. In the afternoon he chewed theedge of his buckskin hunting shirt, but it was too thoroughly tannedand dry. It gave back no sustenance. He abandoned the experiment and laystill for a long time. 

That night he had a slight touch of frenzy, and began to laugh athimself. It was a huge joke! What would Timmendiquas or Thayendanegeathink of him if they knew how he came to his end? They would put himwith old squaws or little children. And how Braxton Wyatt and hislieutenant, the squat Tory, would laugh! That was the bitterest thoughtof all. But the frenzy passed, and he fell into a sleep which was onlya succession of bad dreams. He was running the gauntlet again amongthe Shawnees. Again, kneeling to drink at the clear pool, he saw in thewater the shadow of the triumphant warrior holding the tomahawk abovehim. One after another the most critical periods of his life were livedover again, and then he sank into a deep torpor, from which he did notrouse himself until far into the next day. 

Henry was conscious that he was very weak, but he seemed to haveregained much of his lost will. He looked once more at the fatal leftankle. It had improved greatly. He could even stand upon it, but when herose to his feet he felt a singular dizziness. Again, what he had gainedin one way he had lost in another. The earth wavered. The smooth surfaceof the lake seemed to rise swiftly, and then to sink as swiftly. The farslope down which he had shot rose to the height of miles. There was apale tinge, too, over the world. He sank down, not because of his ankle, but because he was afraid his dizzy head would make him fall. 

The power of will slipped away again for a minute or two. He was ashamedof such extraordinary weakness. He looked at one of his hands. It wasthin, like the band of a man wasted with fever, and the blue veins stoodout on the back of it. He could scarcely believe that the hand was hisown. But after the first spasm of weakness was over, the precious willreturned. He could walk. Strength enough to permit him to hobble alonghad returned to the ankle at last, and mind must control the rest of hisnervous system, however weakened it might be. He must seek food. 

He withdrew into the farthest recess of his covert, wrapped the blankettightly about his body, and lay still for a long time. He was preparingboth mind and body for the supreme effort. He knew that everything hungnow on the surviving remnants of his skill and courage. 

Weakened by shock and several days of fasting, he had no great reservenow except the mental, and he used that to the utmost. It was proof ofhis youthful greatness that it stood the last test. As he lay there, the final ounce of will and courage came. Strength which was of the mindrather than of the body flowed back into his veins; he felt able to dareand to do; the pale aspect of the world went away, and once more he wasHenry Ware, alert, skillful, and always triumphant. 

Then he rose again, folded the blanket, and fastened it on hisshoulders. He looked at the snowshoes, but decided that his left ankle, despite its great improvement, would not stand the strain. He mustbreak his way through the snow, which was a full three feet in depth. Fortunately the crust had softened somewhat in the last two or threedays, and he did not have a covering of ice to meet. 

He pushed his way for the first time from the lair under the cliff, hisrifle held in his ready hands, in order that he might miss no chance atgame. To an ordinary observer there would have been no such chance atall. It was merely a grim white wilderness that might have been withoutanything living from the beginning. But Henry, the forest runner, knewbetter. Somewhere in the snow were lairs much like the one that he hadleft, and in these lairs were wild animals. To any such wild animal, whether panther or bear, the hunter would now have been a fearsomeobject, with his hollow cheeks, his sunken fiery eyes, and his thin lipsopening now and then, and disclosing the two rows of strong white teeth. 

Henry advanced about a rod, and then he stopped, breathing hard, becauseit was desperate work for one in his condition to break his way throughsnow so deep. But his ankle stood the strain well, and his courageincreased rather than diminished. He was no longer a cripple confinedto one spot. While he stood resting, he noticed a clump of bushes abouthalf a rod to his left, and a hopeful idea came to him. 

He broke his way slowly to the bushes, and then he searched carefullyamong them. The snow was not nearly so thick there, and under thethickest clump, where the shelter was best, he saw a small roundopening. In an instant all his old vigorous life, all the abounding hopewhich was such a strong characteristic of his nature, came back to him. Already he had triumphed over Indians, Tories, the mighty slope, snow, ice, crippling, and starvation. 

He laid the rifle on the snow and took the ramrod in his right hand. Hethrust his left hand into the hole, and when the rabbit leaped for lifefrom his warm nest a smart blow of the ramrod stretched him dead at thefeet of the hunter. Henry picked up the rabbit. It was large and yetfat. Here was food for two meals. In the race between the ankle andstarvation, the ankle had won. 

He did not give way to any unseemly elation. He even felt a momentarysorrow that a life must perish to save his own, because all these wildthings were his kindred now. He returned by the path that he had broken, kindled his fire anew, dexterously skinned and cleaned his rabbit, then cooked it and ate half, although he ate slowly and with intervalsbetween each piece. How delicious it tasted, and how his physical beinglonged to leap upon it and devour it, but the power of the mind wasstill supreme. He knew what was good for himself, and he did it. Everything was done in order and with sobriety. Then he put the rest ofthe rabbit carefully in his food pouch, wrapped the blanket about hisbody, leaned back, and stretched his feet to the coals. 

What an extraordinary change had come over the world in an hour! He hadnot noticed before the great beauty of the lake, the lofty cliffs on thefarther shore, and the forest clothed in white and hanging with icicles. 

The winter sunshine was molten silver, pouring down in a flood. 

It was not will now, but actuality, that made him feel the strengthreturning to his frame. He knew that the blood in his veins had begunto sparkle, and that his vitality was rising fast. He could have goneto sleep peacefully, but instead he went forth and hunted again. Heknew that where the rabbit had been, others were likely to be near, andbefore he returned he had secured two more. Both of these he cleaned andcooked at once. When this was done night had come, but he ate again, and then, securing all his treasures about him, fell into the best sleepthat he had enjoyed since his flight. 

He felt very strong the next morning, and he might have started then, but he was prudent. There was still a chance of meeting the Iroquois, and the ankle might not stand so severe a test. He would rest in hisnest for another day, and then he would be equal to anything. Few couldlie a whole day in one place with but little to do and with nothingpassing before the eyes, but it was a part of Henry's wildernesstraining, and he showed all the patience of the forester. He knew, too, as the hours went by, that his strength was rising all the while. To-morrow almost the last soreness would be gone from his ankle andthen he could glide swiftly over the snow, back to his comrades. Hewas content. He had, in fact, a sense of great triumph because he hadovercome so much, and here was new food in this example for futureefforts of the mind, for future victories of the will over the body. Thewintry sun came to the zenith, then passed slowly down the curve, butall the time the boy scarcely stirred. Once there was a flight of smallbirds across the heavens, and he watched them vaguely, but apparently hetook no interest. Toward night he stood up in his recess and flexed andtuned his muscles for a long time, driving out any stiffness that mightcome through long lack of motion. Then he ate and lay down, but he didnot yet sleep. 

The night was clear, and he looked away toward the point where he knew"The Alcove" lay. A good moon was now shining, and stars by the scorewere springing out. Suddenly at a point on that far shore a spark of redlight appeared and twinkled. Most persons would have taken it for somelow star, but Henry knew better. It was fire put there by human hand fora purpose, doubtless a signal, and as he looked a second spark appearedby the first, then a third, then a fourth. He uttered a great sigh ofpleasure. It was his four friends signaling to him somewhere in the vastunknown that they were alive and well, and beckoning him to come. Thelights burned for fifteen or twenty minutes, and then all went outtogether. Henry turned over on his side and fell sound asleep. In themorning he put on his snowshoes and started. 

CHAPTER XIX. THE SAFE RETURN

The surface of the snow had frozen again in the night, and Henry foundgood footing for his shoes. For a while he leaned most on the rightankle, but, as his left developed no signs of soreness, he used themequally, and sped forward, his spirits rising at every step. The air wascold, and there was but little breeze, but his own motion made a windthat whipped his face. The hollows were mostly gone from his cheeks, andhis eyes no longer had the fierce, questing look of the famishing wildanimal in search of prey. A fine red color was suffused through thebrown of his face. He had chosen his course with due precaution. Thebroad surface, smooth, white, and glittering, tempted, but he put thetemptation away. He did not wish to run any chance whatever of anotherIroquois pursuit, and he kept in the forest that ran down close to thewater's edge. It was tougher traveling there, but he persisted. 

But all thought of weariness and trouble was lost in his gloriousfreedom. With his crippled ankle he had been really like a prisoner inhis cell, with a ball and chain to his foot. Now he flew along, whilethe cold wind whipped his blood, and felt what a delight it was merelyto live. He went on thus for hours, skirting down toward the cliffs thatcontained "The Alcove. " He rested a while in the afternoon and ate thelast of his rabbit, but before twilight he reached the creek, and stoodat the hidden path that led up to their home. 

Henry sat down behind thick bushes and took off his snowshoes. To onewho had never come before, the whole place would have seemed absolutelydesolate, and even to one not a stranger no sign of life would have beenvisible had he not possessed uncommonly keen eyes. But Henry had sucheyes. He saw the faintest wisp of smoke stealing away against thesurface of the cliff, and he felt confident that all four were there. Heresolved to surprise them. 

Laying the shoes aside, he crept so carefully up the path that hedislodged no snow and made no noise of any kind. As he graduallyapproached "The Alcove" he beard the murmur of voices, and presently, ashe turned an angle in the path, he saw a beam of glorious mellow lightfalling on the snow. 

But the murmur of the voices sent a great thrill of delight through him. Low and indistinct as they were, they had a familiar sound. He knew allthose tones. They were the voices of his faithful comrades, the four whohad gone with him through so many perils and hardships, the little bandwho with himself were ready to die at any time, one for another. 

He crept a little closer, and then a little closer still. Lying almostflat on the steep path, and drawing himself forward, he looked into "TheAlcove. " A fire of deep, red coals glowed in one corner, and disposedabout it were the four. Paul lay on his elbow on a deerskin, and wasgazing into the coals. Tom Ross was working on a pair of moccasins, LongJim was making some kind of kitchen implement, and Shif'less Sol wastalking. Henry could hear the words distinctly, and they were abouthimself. 

"Henry will turn up all right, " he was saying. "Hasn't he always done itafore? Then ef he's always done it afore he's shorely not goin' to breakhis rule now. I tell you, boys, thar ain't enough Injuns an' Toriesbetween Canady an' New Orleans, an' the Mississippi an' the Atlantic, toketch Henry. I bet I could guess what he's doin' right at this moment. "

"What is he doing, Sol?" asked Paul. 

"When I shet my eyes ez I'm doin' now I kin see him, " said the shiftlessone. "He's away off thar toward the north, skirtin' around an Injunvillage, Mohawk most likely, lookin' an' listenin' an' gatherin' talkabout their plans. "

"He ain't doin' any sech thing, " broke in Long Jim. 

"I've sleet my eyes, too, Sol Hyde, jest ez tight ez you've shet yours, an' I see him, too, but he ain't doin' any uv the things that you'retalkin' about. "

"What is he doing, Jim?" asked Paul. 

"Henry's away off to the south, not to the north, " replied the long one, "an' he's in the Iroquois village that we burned. One house has beenleft standin', an' he's been occupyin' it while the big snow's on thegroun'. A whole deer is hangin' from the wall, an' he's been settin'thar fur days, eatin' so much an' hevin' such a good time that the fat'shangin' down over his cheeks, an' his whole body is threatenin' to bustright out uv his huntin' shirt. "

Paul moved a little on his elbow and turned the other side of his faceto the fire. Then he glanced at the silent worker with the moccasins. 

"Sol and Jim don't seem to agree much in their second sight, " he said. "Can you have any vision, too, Tom?"

"Yes, " replied Tom Ross, "I kin. I shet my eyes, but I don't see likeeither Sol or Jim, 'cause both uv 'em see wrong. I see Henry, an' I seehim plain. He's had a pow'ful tough time. He ain't threatenin' to bustwith fat out uv no huntin' shirt, his cheeks ain't so full that they arefallin' down over his jaws. It's t'other way roun'; them cheeks are sunka mite, he don't fill out his clothes, an' when he crawls along he dragshis left leg a leetle, though he hides it from hisself. He ain't spyin'on no Injun village, an' he ain't in no snug camp with a dressed deerhangin' by the side uv him. It's t'other way 'roan'. He's layin' almostflat on his face not twenty feet from us, lookin' right in at us, an' Iwuz the first to see him. "

All the others sprang to their feet in astonishment, and Henry likewisesprang to his feet. Three leaps, and he was in the mellow glow. 

"And so you saw me, Tom, " he exclaimed, as he joyously grasped one handafter another. "I might have known that, while I could stalk some ofyou, I could not stalk all of you. "

"I caught the glimpse uv you, " said Silent Tom, "while Sol an' Jim wuztalkin' the foolish talk that they most always talk, an' when Paulcalled on me, I thought I would give 'em a dream that 'wuz true, an'worth tellin'. "

"You're right, " said Henry. "I've not been having any easy time, and fora while, boys, it looked as if I never would come back. Sit down, and Iwill tell you all about it. "

They gave him the warmest place by the fire, brought him the tenderestfood, and he told the long and thrilling tale. 

"I don't believe anybody else but you would have tried it, Henry, " saidPaul, when they heard of the fearful slide. 

"Any one of you would have done it, " said Henry, modestly. 

"I'm pow'ful glad that you done it for two reasons, " said Shif'lessSol. "One, 'cause it helped you to git away, an' the other, 'causethat scoundrel, Braxton Wyatt, didn't take you. 'Twould hurt my pridetre-men-jeous for any uv us to be took by Braxton Wyatt. "

"You speak for us all there, Sol, " said Paul. 

"What have all of you been doing?" asked Henry. 

"Not much of anything, " replied Shif'less Sol. "We've been scoutin'several times, lookin' fur you, though we knowed you'd come in some timeor other, but mostly we've been workin' 'roun' the place here, fixin' itup warmer an' storin' away food. "

"We'll have to continue at that for some time, I'm afraid, " said Henry, "unless this snow breaks up. Have any of you heard if any movement isyet on foot against the Iroquois?"

"Tom ran across some scouts from the militia, " replied Paul, "and theysaid nothing could be done until warm weather came. Then a real armywould march. "

"I hope so, " said Henry earnestly. 

But for the present the five could achieve little. The snow lasted along time, but it was finally swept away by big rains. It poured fortwo days and nights, and even when the rain ceased the snow continued tomelt under the warmer air. The water rushed in great torrents downthe cliffs, and would have entered "The Alcove" had not the five madeprovision to turn it away. As it was, they sat snug and dry, listeningto the gush of the water, the sign of falling snow, and the talk of oneanother. Yet the time dragged. 

"Man wuz never made to be a caged animile, " said Shif'less Sol. "Thelonger I stay shet up in one place, the weaker I become. My temper don'timprove, neither, an' I ain't happy. "

"Guess it's the same with all uv us, " said Tom Ross. 

But when the earth came from beneath the snow, although it was stillcold weather, they began again to range the forest far in everydirection, and they found that the Indians, and the Tories also, werebecoming active. There were more burnings, more slaughters, and morescalpings. The whole border was still appalled at the massacres ofWyoming and Cherry Valley, and the savages were continually spreadingover a wider area. Braxton Wyatt at the head of his band, and with theaid of his Tory lieutenant, Levi Coleman, had made for himself a nameequal to that of Walter Butler. As for "Indian" Butler and his men, nomen were hated more thoroughly than they. 

The five continued to do the best they could, which was much, carryingmany a warning, and saving some who would otherwise have been victims. While they devoted themselves to their strenuous task, great events inwhich they were to take a part were preparing. The rear guard of theRevolution was about to become for the time the main guard. A great eyehad been turned upon the ravaged and bleeding border, and a greatmind, which could bear misfortune-even disaster-without complaint, was preparing to send help to those farther away. So mighty a cry ofdistress had risen, that the power of the Iroquois must be destroyed. Asthe warm weather came, the soldiers began to march. 

Rumors that a formidable foe was about to advance reached the Iroquoisand their allies, the Tories, the English, and the Canadians. Therewas a great stirring among the leaders, Thayendanegea, Hiokatoo, Sangerachte, the Johnsons, the Butlers, Claus, and the rest. Haldimand, the king's representative in Canada, sent forth an urgent call to allthe Iroquois to meet the enemy. The Tories were' extremely active. Promises were made to the tribes that they should have other victorieseven greater than those of Wyoming and Cherry Valley, and again theterrible Queen Esther went among them, swinging her great war tomahawkover her head and chanting her song of death. She, more than any other, inflamed the Iroquois, and they were eager for the coming contest. 

Timmendiquas had gone back to the Ohio country in the winter, but, faithful to his promise to give Thayendanegea help to the last, hereturned in the spring with a hundred chosen warriors of the Wyandotnation, a reenforcement the value of which could not be estimated toohighly. 

Henry and his comrades felt the stir as they roamed through the forest, and they thrilled at the thought that the crisis was approaching. Thenthey set out for Lake Otsego, where the army was gathering for the greatcampaign. They were equipped thoroughly, and they were now so well knownin the region that they knew they would be welcome. 

They traveled several days, and were preparing to encamp for the lastnight within about fifteen miles of the lake when Henry, scouting asusual to see if an enemy were near, heard a footstep in the forest. Hewheeled instantly to cover behind the body of a great beech tree, andthe stranger sought to do likewise, only he had no convenient treethat was so large. It was about the twelfth hour, but Henry could see aportion of a body protruding beyond a slim oak, and he believed that herecognized it. As he held the advantage he would, at any rate, hail thestranger. 

"Ho, Cornelius Heemskerk, Dutchman, fat man, great scout and woodsman, what are you doing in my wilderness? Stand forth at once and give anaccount of yourself, or I will shoot off the part of your body thatsticks beyond that oak tree!"

The answer was instantaneous. A round, plump body revolved from thepartial shelter of the tree and stood upright in the open, rifle in handand cap thrown back from a broad ruddy brow. 

"Ho, Mynheer Henry Ware, " replied Cornelius Heemskerk in a loud, cleartone, "I am in your woods on perhaps the same errand that you are. Comefrom behind that beech and let us see which has the stronger grip. "

Henry stood forth, and the two clasped hands in a grip so powerful thatboth winced. Then they released hands simultaneously, and Heemskerkasked:

"And the other four mynheers? Am I wrong to say that they are near, somewhere?"

"You are not wrong, " replied Henry. "They are alive, well and hungry, not a mile from here. There is one man whom they would be very glad tosee, and his name is Cornelius Heemskerk, who is roaming in our woodswithout a permit. "

The round, ruddy face of the Dutchman glowed. It was obvious that hefelt as much delight in seeing Henry as Henry felt in seeing him. 

"My heart swells, " he said. "I feared that you might have been killed orscalped, or, at the best, have gone back to that far land of Kentucky. "

"We have wintered well, " said Henry, "in a place of which I shall nottell you now, and we are here to see the campaign through. "

"I come, too, for the same purpose, " said Heemskerk. "We shall betogether. It is goot. " "Meanwhile, " said Henry, "our camp fire islighted. Jim Hart, whom you have known of old, is cooking strips of meatover the coals, and, although it is a mile away, the odor of them isvery pleasant in my nostrils. I wish to go back there, and it will beall the more delightful to me, and to those who wait, if I can bringwith me such a welcome guest. "

"Lead on, mynheer, " said Cornelius Heemskerk sententiously. 

He received an equally emphatic welcome from the others, and then theyate and talked. Heemskerk was sanguine. 

"Something will be done this time, " he said. "Word has come from thegreat commander that the Iroquois must be crushed. The thousands whohave fallen must be avenged, and this great fire along our border mustbe stopped. If it cannot be done, then we perish. We have old tales inmy own country of the cruel deeds that the Spaniards did long, long ago, but they were not worse than have been done here. "

The five made no response, but the mind of every one of them traveledback to Wyoming and all that they had seen there, and the scars andtraces of many more tragedies. 

They reached the camp on Lake Otsego the next day, and Henry saw thatall they had heard was true. The most formidable force that they hadever seen was gathering. There were many companies in the Continentalbuff and blue, epauletted officers, bayonets and cannon. The camp wasfull of life, energy, and hope, and the five at once felt the influenceof it. They found here old friends whom they had known in the march onOghwaga, William Gray, young Taylor, and others, and they were made verywelcome. They were presented to General James Clinton, then in charge, received roving commissions as scouts and hunters, and with Heemskerkand the two celebrated borderers, Timothy Murphy and David Elerson, they roamed the forest in a great circle about the lake, bringing muchvaluable information about the movements of the enemy, who in their turnwere gathering in force, while the royal authorities were dispatchingboth Indians and white men from Canada to help them. 

These great scouting expeditions saved the five from much impatience. Ittakes a long time for an army to gather and then to equip itself for themarch, and they were so used to swift motion that it was now a part oftheir nature. At last the army was ready, and it left the lake. Then itproceeded in boats down the Tioga flooded to a sufficient depth by anartificial dam built with immense labor, to its confluence with thelarger river. Here were more men, and the five saw a new commander, General James Sullivan, take charge of the united force. Then the army, late in August, began its march upon the Iroquois. 

The five were now in the van, miles ahead of the main guard. They knewthat no important movement of so large a force could escape the noticeof the enemy, but they, with other scouts, made it their duty to seethat the Americans marched into no trap. 

It was now the waning summer. The leaves were lightly touched withbrown, and the grass had begun to wither. Berries were ripening onthe vines, and the quantity of game had increased, the wild animalsreturning to the land from which civilized man had disappeared. Thedesolation seemed even more complete than in the autumn before. In thewinter and spring the Iroquois and Tories had destroyed the fewremnants of houses that were left. Braxton Wyatt and his band had beenparticularly active in this work, and many tales had come of his crueltyand that of his swart Tory lieutenant, Coleman. Henry was sure, too, that Wyatt's band, which numbered perhaps fifty Indians and Tories, wasnow in front of them. 

He, his comrades, Heemskerk, Elerson, Murphy, and four others, twelvebrave forest runners all told, went into camp one night about ten milesahead of the army. They lighted no fire, and, even had it been cold, they would not have done so, as the region was far too dangerous for anylight. Yet the little band felt no fear. They were only twelve, it istrue, but such a twelve! No chance would either Indians or Tories haveto surprise them. 

They merely lay down in the thick brushwood, three intending to keepwatch while the others slept. Henry, Shif'less Sol, and Heemskerk werethe sentinels. It was very late, nearly midnight; the sky was clear, andpresently they saw smoke rings ascending from high hills to their right, to be answered soon by other rings of smoke to their left. The threewatched them with but little comment, and read every signal in turn. They said: "The enemy is still advancing, " "He is too strong forus. . . . . . We must retreat and await our brethren. "

"It means that there will be no battle to-morrow, at least, " whisperedHeemskerk. "Brant is probably ahead of us in command, and he will avoidus until he receives the fresh forces from Canada. "

"I take it that you're right, " Henry whispered back. "Timmendiquas alsois with him, and the two great chiefs are too cunning to fight untilthey can bring their last man into action. "

"An' then, " said the shiftless one, "we'll see what happens. "

"Yes, " said Henry very gravely, "we'll see what happens. The Iroquoisare a powerful confederacy. They've ruled in these woods for hundredsof years. They're led by great chiefs, and they're helped by our whiteenemies. You can't tell what would happen even to an army like ours inan ambush. "

Shif'less Sol nodded, and they said no more until an hour later, whenthey heard footsteps. They awakened the others, and the twelve, crawlingto the edge of the brushwood, lay almost flat upon their faces, withtheir hands upon the triggers of their rifles. 

Braxton Wyatt and his band of nearly threescore, Indians and Tories inabout equal numbers, were passing. Wyatt walked at the head. Despite hisyouth, he had acquired an air of command, and he seemed a fit leaderfor such a crew. He wore a faded royal uniform, and, while a small swordhung at his side, he also carried a rifle on his shoulder. Close behindhim was the swart and squat Tory, Coleman, and then came Indians andTories together. 

The watchful eyes of Henry saw three fresh scalps hanging from as manybelts, and the finger that lay upon the trigger of his rifle fairlyached to press it. What an opportunity this would be if the twelve wereonly forty, or even thirty! With the advantage of surprise they mighthope to annihilate this band which had won such hate for itself on theborder. But twelve were not enough and twelve such lives could not bespared at a time when the army needed them most. 

Henry pressed his teeth firmly together in order to keep down hisdisappointment by a mere physical act if possible. He happened to lookat Shif'less Sol, and saw that his teeth were pressed together in thesame manner. It is probable that like feelings swayed every one of thetwelve, but they were so still in the brushwood that no Iroquois heardgrass or leaf rustle. Thus the twelve watched the sixty pass, andafter they were gone, Henry, Shif'less Sol, and Tim Murphy followed forseveral miles. They saw Wyatt proceed toward the Chemung River, and asthey approached the stream they beheld signs of fortifications. It wasnow nearly daylight, and, as Indians were everywhere, they turned back. But they were convinced that the enemy meant to fight on the Chemung. 

CHAPTER XX. A GLOOMY COUNCIL

The next night after Henry Ware and his comrades lay in the brushwoodand saw Braxton Wyatt and his band pass, a number of men, famous orinfamous in their day, were gathered around a low camp fire on the crestof a small hill. The most distinguished of them all in looks was a youngIndian chief of great height and magnificent build, with a noble andimpressive countenance. He wore nothing of civilized attire, thenearest approach to it being the rich dark-blue blanket that was flunggracefully over his right shoulder. It was none other than the greatWyandot chief, Timmendiquas, saying little, and listening withoutexpression to the words of the others. 

Near Timmendiquas sat Thayendanegea, dressed as usual in his mixtureof savage and civilized costume, and about him were other famous Indianchiefs, The Corn Planter, Red jacket, Hiokatoo, Sangerachte, LittleBeard, a young Seneca renowned for ferocity, and others. 

On the other side of the fire sat the white men: the young Sir JohnJohnson, who, a prisoner to the Colonials, had broken his oath ofneutrality, the condition of his release, and then, fleeing to Canada, had returned to wage bloody war on the settlements; his brother-in-law, Colonel Guy Johnson; the swart and squat John Butler of Wyoming infamy;his son, Walter Butler, of the pallid face, thin lips, and cruel heart;the Canadian Captain MacDonald; Braxton Wyatt; his lieutenant, the darkTory, Coleman; and some others who had helped to ravage their formerland. 

Sir John Johnson, a tall man with blue eyes set close together, wore thehandsome uniform of his Royal Greens; he had committed many dark deedsor permitted them to be done by men under his command, and he hadsecured the opportunity only through his broken oath, but he had lostgreatly. The vast estates of his father, Sir William Johnson, were beingtorn from him, and perhaps he saw, even then, that in return for what hehad done he would lose all and become an exile from the country in whichhe was born. 

It was not a cheerful council. There was no exultation as after Wyomingand Cherry Valley and the Minisink and other places. Sir John bit hislip uneasily, and his brother-in-law, resting his hand on his knee, stared gloomily at the fire. The two Butlers were silent, and the darkface of Thayendanegea was overcast. 

A little distance before these men was a breastwork about half a milelong, connecting with a bend of the river in such a manner that an enemycould attack only in front and on one flank, that flank itself beingapproached only by the ascent of a steep ridge which ran parallel to theriver. The ground about the camp was covered with pine and scrub oaks. Many others had been cut down and added to the breastwork. A deep brookran at the foot of the hill on which the leaders sat. About the slopesof this hill and another, a little distance away, sat hundreds of Indianwarriors, all in their war paint, and other hundreds of their whiteallies, conspicuous among them Johnson's Royal Greens and Butler'sRangers. These men made but little noise now. They were resting andwaiting. 

Thayendanegea was the first to break the silence in the group at thefire. He turned his dark face to Sir John Johnson and said in hisexcellent English: "The king promised us that if we would take up armsfor him against the Yankees, he would send a great army, many thousands, to help us. We believed him, and we took up the hatchet for him. Wefought in the dark and the storm with Herkimer at the Oriskany, and manyof our warriors fell. But we did not sulk in our lodges. We have ravagedand driven in the whole American border along a line of hundreds ofmiles. Now the Congress sends an army to attack us, to avenge what wehave done, and the great forces of the king are not here. I have beenacross the sea; I have seen the mighty city of London and its people asnumerous as the blades of grass. Why has not the king kept his promiseand sent men enough to save the Iroquois?"

Sir John Johnson and Thayendanegea were good friends, but the soul ofthe great Mohawk chief was deeply stirred. His penetrating mind saw theuplifted hand about to strike-and the target was his own people. Histone became bitterly sarcastic as he spoke, and when he ceased he lookeddirectly at the baronet in a manner that showed a reply must be given. Sir John moved uneasily, but he spoke at last. 

"Much that you say is true, Thayendanegea, " he admitted, "but the kinghas many things to do. The war is spread over a vast area, and he mustkeep his largest armies in the East. But the Royal Greens, the Rangers, and all others whom we can raise, even in Canada, are here to help you. In the coming battle your fortunes are our fortunes. "

Thayendanegea nodded, but he was not yet appeased. His glance fell uponthe two Butlers, father and son, and he frowned. 

"There are many in England itself, " he said, "who wish us harm, and whoperhaps have kept us from receiving some of the help that we ought tohave. They speak of Wyoming and Cherry Valley, of the torture and ofthe slaughter of women and children, and they say that war must notbe carried on in such a way. But there are some among us who are moresavage than the savages themselves, as they call us. It was you, JohnButler, who led at Wyoming, and it was you, Walter Butler, who allowedthe women and children to be killed at Cherry Valley, and more wouldhave been slain there had I not, come up in time. "

The dark face of "Indian" Butler grew darker, and the pallid face ofhis son grew more pallid. Both were angry, and at the same time a littleafraid. 

"We won at Wyoming in fair battle, " said the elder Butler. 

"But afterwards?" said Thayendanegea. 

The man was silent. 

"It is these two places that have so aroused the Bostonians against us, "continued Thayendanegea. "It is because of them that the commander ofthe Bostonians has sent a great army, and the Long House is threatenedwith destruction. "

"My son and I have fought for our common cause, " said "Indian" Butler, the blood flushing through his swarthy face. 

Sir John Johnson interfered. 

"We have admitted, Joseph, the danger to the Iroquois, " he said, callingthe chieftain familiarly by his first Christian name, "but I and mybrother-in-law and Colonel Butler and Captain Butler have already lostthough we may regain. And with this strong position and the aid ofambush it is likely that we can defeat the rebels. "

The eyes of Thayendanegea brightened as he looked at the longembankment, the trees, and the dark forms of the warriors scatterednumerously here and there. 

"You may be right, Sir John, " he said; "yes, I think you are right, and by all the gods, red and white, we shall see. I wish to fight here, because this is the best place in which to meet the Bostonians. What sayyou, Timmendiquas, sworn brother of mine, great warrior and great chiefof the Wyandots, the bravest of all the western nations?"

The eye of Timmendiquas expressed little, but his voice was sonorous, and his words were such as Thayendanegea wished to hear. 

"If we fight--and we must fight--this is the place in which to meet thewhite army, " he said. "The Wyandots are here to help the Iroquois, asthe Iroquois would go to help them. The Manitou of the Wyandots, theAieroski of the Iroquois, alone knows the end. "

He spoke with the utmost gravity, and after his brief reply he said nomore. All regarded him with respect and admiration. Even Braxton Wyattfelt that it was a noble deed to remain and face destruction for thesake of tribes not his own. 

Sir John Johnson turned to Braxton Wyatt, who had sat all the while insilence. 

"You have examined the evening's advance, Wyatt, " he said. "What furtherinformation can you give us?"

"We shall certainly be attacked to-morrow, " replied Wyatt, "and theAmerican army is advancing cautiously. It has out strong flankingparties, and it is preceded by the scouts, those Kentuckians whom I knowand have met often, Murphy, Elerson, Heemskerk, and the others. "

"If we could only lead them into an ambush, " said Sir John. "Any kindof troops, even the best of regulars, will give way before an unseen foepouring a deadly fire upon them from the deep woods. Then they magnifythe enemy tenfold. "

"It is so, " said the fierce old Seneca chief, Hiokatoo. "When we killedBraddock and all his men, they thought that ten warriors stood in themoccasins of only one. "

Sir John frowned. He did not like this allusion to the time when theIroquois fought against the English, and inflicted on them a greatdefeat. But he feared to rebuke the old chief. Hiokatoo and the Senecaswere too important. 

"There ought to be a chance yet for an ambuscade, " he said. "The foliageis still thick and heavy, and Sullivan, their general, is not used toforest warfare. What say you to this, Wyatt?"

Wyatt shook his head. He knew the caliber of the five from Kentucky, andhe had little hope of such good fortune. 

"They have learned from many lessons, " he replied, "and their scouts arethe best. Moreover, they will attempt anything. "

They relapsed into silence again, and the sharp eyes of the renegaderoved about the dark circle of trees and warriors that inclosed them. Presently he saw something that caused him to rise and walk a littledistance from the fire. Although his eye suspected and his mindconfirmed, Braxton Wyatt could not believe that it was true. It wasincredible. No one, be he ever so daring, would dare such a thing. Butthe figure down there among the trees, passing about among the warriors, many of whom did not know one another, certainly looked familiar, despite the Indian paint and garb. Only that of Timmendiquas could rivalit in height and nobility. These were facts that could not be hidden byany disguise. 

"What is it, Wyatt?" asked Sir John. "What do you see? Why do you lookso startled?"

Wyatt sought to reply calmly. 

"There is a warrior among those trees over there whom I have notseen here before, " he replied, "he is as tall and as powerful asTimmendiquas, and there is only one such. There is a spy among us, andit is Henry Ware. "

He snatched a pistol from his belt, ran forward, and fired at theflitting figure, which was gone in an instant among the trees and thewarriors. 

"What do you say?" exclaimed Thayendanegea, as he ran forward, "a spy, and you know him to be such!"

"Yes, he is the worst of them all, " replied Wyatt. "I know him. I couldnot mistake him. But he has dared too much. He cannot get away. "

The great camp was now in an uproar. The tall figure was seen here andthere, always to vanish quickly. Twenty shots were fired at it. Nonehit. Many more would have been fired, but the camp was too much crowdedto take such a risk. Every moment the tumult and confusion increased, but Thayendanegea quickly posted warriors on the embankment andthe flanks, to prevent the escape of the fugitive in any of thosedirections. 

But the tall figure did not appear at either embankment or flank. It wasnext seen near the river, when a young warrior, striving to strike witha tomahawk, was dashed to the earth with great force. The next instantthe figure leaped far out into the stream. The moonlight glimmered aninstant on the bare head, while bullets the next moment pattered on thewater where it had been. Then, with a few powerful strokes, the strangerreclaimed the land, sprang upon the shore, and darted into the woodswith more vain bullets flying about him. But he sent back a shout ofirony and triumph that made the chiefs and Tories standing on the bankbite their lips in anger. 

CHAPTER XXI. BATTLE OF THE CHEMUNG

Paul had been sleeping heavily, and the sharp, pealing notes of atrumpet awoke him at the sunburst of a brilliant morning. Henry wasstanding beside him, showing no fatigue from the night's excitement, danger, and escape, but his face was flushed and his eyes sparkled. 

"Up, Paul! Up!" he cried. "We know the enemy's position, and we will bein battle before another sun sets. "

Paul was awake in an instant, and the second instant he was on his feet, rifle in hand, and heart thrilling for the great attack. He, like allthe others, had slept on such a night fully dressed. Shif'less Sol, LongJim, Silent Tom, Heemskerk, and the rest were by the side of him, andall about them rose the sounds of an army going into battle, commandssharp and short, the rolling of cannon wheels, the metallic rattle ofbayonets, the clink of bullets poured into the pouches, and the hum ofmen talking in half-finished sentences. 

It was to all the five a vast and stirring scene. It was the first timethat they had ever beheld a large and regular army going into action, and they were a part of it, a part by no means unimportant. It wasHenry, with his consummate skill and daring, who had uncovered theposition of the enemy, and now, without snatching a moment's sleep, hewas ready to lead where the fray might be thickest. 

The brief breakfast finished, the trumpet pealed forth again, and thearmy began to move through the thick forest. A light wind, crisp withthe air of early autumn, blew, and the leaves rustled. The sun, swingingupward in the east, poured down a flood of brilliant rays that lightedup everything, the buff and blue uniforms, the cannon, the rifles, thebayonets, and the forest, still heavy with foliage. 

"Now! now!" thought every one of the five, "we begin the vengeance forWyoming!"

The scouts were well in front, searching everywhere among the thicketsfor the Indian sharpshooters, who could scorch so terribly. As BraxtonWyatt had truly said, these scouts were the best in the world. Nothingcould escape the trained eyes of Henry Ware and his comrades, and thoseof Murphy, Ellerson, and the others, while off on either flank of thearmy heavy detachments guarded against any surprise or turning movement. They saw no Indian sign in the woods. There was yet a deep silence infront of them, and the sun, rising higher, poured its golden light downupon the army in such an intense, vivid flood that rifle barrels andbayonets gave back a metallic gleam. All around them the deep woodsswayed and rustled before the light breeze, and now and then they caughtglimpses of the river, its surface now gold, then silver, under theshining sun. 

Henry's heart swelled as he advanced. He was not revengeful, but he hadseen so much of savage atrocity in the last year that he could not keepdown the desire to see punishment. It is only those in sheltered homeswho can forgive the tomahawk and the stake. Now he was the very first ofthe scouts, although his comrades and a dozen others were close behindhim. 

The scouts went so far forward that the army was hidden from them by theforest, although they could yet hear the clank of arms and the sound ofcommands. 

Henry knew the ground thoroughly. He knew where the embankment ran, andhe knew, too, that the Iroquois had dug pits, marked by timber. Theywere not far ahead, and the scouts now proceeded very slowly, examiningevery tree and clump of bushes to see whether a lurking enemy was hiddenthere. The silence endured longer than he had thought. Nothing could beseen in front save the waving forest. 

Henry stopped suddenly. He caught a glimpse of a brown shoulder's edgeshowing from behind a tree, and at his signal all the scouts sank to theground. 

The savage fired, but the bullet, the first of the battle, whistled overtheir heads. The sharp crack, sounding triply loud at such a time, cameback from the forest in many echoes, and a light puff of smoke arose. Quick as a flash, before the brown shoulder and body exposed to take aimcould be withdrawn, Tom Ross fired, and the Mohawk fell, uttering hisdeath yell. The Iroquois in the woods took up the cry, pouring forth awar whoop, fierce, long drawn, the most terrible of human sounds, andbefore it died, their brethren behind the embankment repeated it intremendous volume from hundreds of throats. It was a shout that hadoften appalled the bravest, but the little band of scouts were notafraid. When its last echo died they sent forth a fierce, defiant noteof their own, and, crawling forward, began to send in their bullets. 

The woods in front of them swarmed with the Indian skirmishers, whoreplied to the scouts, and the fire ran along a long line through theundergrowth. Flashes of flames appeared, puffs of smoke arose and, uniting, hung over the trees. Bullets hissed. Twigs and bark fell, andnow and then a man, as they fought from tree to tree. Henry caught oneglimpse of a face that was white, that of Braxton Wyatt, and he soughta shot at the renegade leader, but he could not get it. But the scoutspushed on, and the Indian and Tory skirmishers dropped back. Then onthe flanks they began to hear the rattle of rifle fire. The wings of thearmy were in action, but the main body still advanced without firing ashot. 

The scouts could now see through the trees the embankments and riflepits, and they could also see the last of the Iroquois and Toryskirmishers leaping over the earthworks and taking refuge with theirarmy. Then they turned back and saw the long line of their own armysteadily advancing, while the sounds of heavy firing still continued onboth flanks. Henry looked proudly at the unbroken array, the front ofsteel, and the cannon. He felt prouder still when the general turned tohim and said:

"You have done well, Mr. Ware; you have shown us exactly where the enemylies, and that will save us many men. Now bigger voices than those ofthe rifles shall talk. "

The army stopped. The Indian position could be plainly seen. The crestof the earthwork was lined with fierce, dark faces, and here and thereamong the brown Iroquois were the green uniforms of the Royalists. 

Henry saw both Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas, the plumes in their hairwaving aloft, and he felt sure that wherever they stood the battle wouldbe thickest. 

The Americans were now pushing forward their cannon, six three-poundersand two howitzers, the howitzers, firing five-and-a-half-inch shells, new and terrifying missiles to the Indians. The guns were wheeled intoposition, and the first howitzer was fired. It sent its great shell ina curving line at and over the embankment, where it burst with a crash, followed by a shout of mingled pain and awe. Then the second howitzer, aimed well like the first, sent a shell almost to the same point, and alike cry came back. 

Shif'less Sol, watching the shots, jumped up and down in delight. 

"That's the medicine!" he cried. "I wonder how you like that, youButlers an' Johnsons an' Wyatts an' Mohawks an' all the rest o' yourscalp-taking crew! Ah, thar goes another! This ain't any Wyomin'!"

The three-pounders also opened fire, and sent their balls squarely intothe rifle pits and the Indian camp. The Iroquois replied with a showerof rifle bullets and a defiant war whoop, but the bullets fell short, and the whoop hurt no one. 

The artillery, eight pieces, was served with rapidity and precision, while the riflemen, except on their flanks, where they were more closelyengaged, were ordered to hold their fire. The spectacle was to Henry andhis comrades panoramic in its effect. They watched the flashes of firefrom the mouths of the cannon, the flight of the great shells, and thebank of smoke which soon began to lower like a cloud over the field. They could picture to themselves what was going on beyond the earthwork, the dead falling, the wounded limping away, earth and trees torn byshell and shot. They even fancied that they could hear the voices of thegreat chiefs, Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas, encouraging their men, and striving to keep them in line against a fire not as deadly as riflebullets at close quarters, but more terrifying. 

Presently a cloud of skirmishers issued once more from the Indian camp, creeping among the trees and bushes, and seeking a chance to shoot downthe men at the guns. But sharp eyes were watching them. 

"Come, boys, " exclaimed Henry. "Here's work for us now. "

He led the scouts and the best of the riflemen against the skirmishers, who were soon driven in again. The artillery fire had never ceased for amoment, the shells and balls passing over their heads. Their work done, the sharpshooters fell back again, the gunners worked faster for awhile, and then at a command they ceased suddenly. Henry, Paul, and allthe others knew instinctively what was going to happen. They felt it inevery bone of them. The silence so sudden was full of meaning. 

"Now!" Henry found himself exclaiming. Even at that moment the order wasgiven, and the whole army rushed forward, the smoke floating away forthe moment and the sun flashing off the bayonets. The five sprang upand rushed on ahead. A sheet of flame burst from the embankment, and therifle pits sprang into fire. The five beard the bullets whizzing pastthem, and the sudden cries of the wounded behind them, but they neverceased to rush straight for the embankment. 

It seemed to Henry that he ran forward through living fire. There wasone continuous flash from the earthwork, and a continuous flash replied. The rifles were at work now, thousands of them, and they kept up anincessant crash, while above them rose the unbroken thunder of thecannon. The volume of smoke deepened, and it was shot through with thesharp, pungent odor of burned gunpowder. 

Henry fired his rifle and pistol, almost unconsciously reloaded, andfired again, as he ran, and then noticed that the advance had neverceased. It had not been checked even for a moment, and the bayonets ofone of the regiments glittered in the sun a straight line of steel. 

Henry kept his gaze fixed upon a point where the earthwork was lowest. He saw there the plumed head of Thayendanegea, and he intended to strikeif he could. He saw the Mohawk gesticulating and shouting to his men tostand fast and drive back the charge. He believed even then, and he knewlater, that Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas were showing courage superiorto that of the Johnsons and Butters or any of their British and Canadianallies. The two great chiefs still held their men in line, and theIroquois did not cease to send a stream of bullets from the earthwork. 

Henry saw the brown faces and the embankment coming closer and closer. He saw the face of Braxton Wyatt appear a moment, and he snapped hisempty pistol at it. But it was hidden the next instant behind others, and then they were at the embankment. He saw the glowing faces ofhis comrades at his side, the singular figure of Heemskerk revolvingswiftly, and behind them the line of bayonets closing in with thegrimness of fate. 

Henry leaped upon the earthwork. An Indian fired at him point blank, andhe swung heavily with his clubbed rifle. Then his comrades were by hisside, and they leaped down into the Indian camp. After them came theriflemen, and then the line of bayonets. Even then the great Mohawk andthe great Wyandot shouted to their men to stand fast, although the RoyalGreens and the Rangers had begun to run, and the Johnsons, the Butlers, McDonald, Wyatt, and the other white men were running with them. 

Henry, with the memory of Wyoming and all the other dreadful things thathad come before his eyes, saw red. He was conscious of a terrible melee, of striking again and again with his clubbed rifle, of fierce brownfaces before him, and of Timmendiquas and Thayedanegea rushing here andthere, shouting to their warriors, encouraging them, and exclaiming thatthe battle was not lost. Beyond he saw the vanishing forms of the RoyalGreens and the Rangers in full flight. But the Wyandots and the bestof the Iroquois still stood fast until the pressure upon them becameoverwhelming. When the line of bayonets approached their breasts theyfell back. Skilled in every detail of ambush, and a wonderful forestfighter, the Indian could never stand the bayonet. ReluctantlyTimmendiquas, Thayendanegea and the Mohawks, Senecas, and Wyandots, whowere most strenuous in the conflict, gave ground. Yet the battlefield, with its numerous trees, stumps, and inequalities, still favored them. They retreated slowly, firing from every covert, sending a shower ofbullets, and now and then tittering the war whoop. 

Henry heard a panting breath by his side. He looked around and saw theface of Heemskerk, glowing red with zeal and exertion. 

"The victory is won already!" said he. "Now to drive it home!"

"Come on, " cried Henry in return, "and we'll lead!"

A single glance showed him that none of his comrades had fallen. LongJim and Tom Ross had suffered slight wounds that they scarcely noticed, and they and the whole group of scouts were just behind Henry. But theynow took breath, reloaded their rifles, and, throwing themselves downin Indian fashion, opened a deadly fire upon their antagonists. Theirbullets searched all the thickets, drove out the Iroquois, and compelledthem to retreat anew. 

The attack was now pressed with fresh vigor. In truth, with so much thatthe bravest of the Indians at last yielded to panic. Thayendanegea andTimmendiquas were carried away in the rush, and the white leaders oftheir allies were already out of sight. On all sides the allied red andwhite force was dissolving. Precipitate flight was saving the fugitivesfrom a greater loss in killed and wounded-it was usually Indian tacticsto flee with great speed when the battle began to go against them-butthe people of the Long House had suffered the greatest overthrow intheir history, and bitterness and despair were in the hearts of theIroquois chiefs as they fled. 

The American army not only carried the center of the Indian camp, butthe heavy flanking parties closed in also, and the whole Indian armywas driven in at every point. The retreat was becoming a rout. A great, confused conflict was going on. The rapid crackle of rifles mingled withthe shouts and war whoops of the combatants. Smoke floated everywhere. The victorious army, animated by the memory of the countless crueltiesthat had been practiced on the border, pushed harder and harder. TheIroquois were driven back along the Chemung. It seemed that they mightbe hemmed in against the river, but in their flight they came to a ford. Uttering their cry of despair, "Oonali! Oonali!" a wail for a battlelost, they sprang into the stream, many of them throwing away theirrifles, tomahawks, and blankets, and rushed for the other shore. But theScouts and a body of riflemen were after them. 

Braxton Wyatt and his band appeared in the woods on the far shore, andopened fire on the pursuers now in the stream. He alone among the whitemen had the courage, or the desperation, to throw himself and his menin the path of the pursuit. The riflemen in the water felt the bulletspattering around them, and some were struck, but they did not stop. Theykept on for the bank, and their own men behind them opened a coveringfire over their heads. 

Henry felt a great pulse leap in his throat at the sight of BraxtonWyatt again. Nothing could have turned him back now. Shouting to theriflemen, he led the charge through the water, and the bank's defenderswere driven back. Yet Wyatt, with his usual dexterity and prudence, escaped among the thickets. 

The battle now became only a series of detached combats. Littlegroups seeking to make a stand here and there were soon swept away. Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas raged and sought to gather togetherenough men for an ambush, for anything that would sting the victors, butthey were pushed too hard and fast. A rally was always destroyed in thebeginning, and the chiefs themselves at last ran for their lives. Thepursuit was continued for a long time, not only by the vanguard, but thearmy itself moved forward over the battlefield and deep into the foreston the trail of the flying Iroquois. 

The scouts continued the pursuit the longest, keeping a close watch, nevertheless, against an ambush. Now and then they exchanged shots witha band, but the Indians always fled quickly, and at last they stoppedbecause they could no longer find any resistance. They had been inaction or pursuit for many hours, and they were black with smoke, dust, and sweat, but they were not yet conscious of any weariness. Heemskerkdrew a great red silk handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped hisglowing face, which was as red as the handkerchief. 

"It's the best job that's been done in these parts for many a year, " hesaid. "The Iroquois have always thought they were invincible, and nowthe spell's been broke. If we only follow it up. "

"That's sure to be done, " said Henry. "I heard General Sullivan himselfsay that his orders were to root up the whole Iroquois power. "

They returned slowly toward the main force, retracing their steps overthe path of battle. It was easy enough to follow it. They beheld a deadwarrior at every step, and at intervals were rifles, tomahawks, scalpingknives, blankets, and an occasional shot pouch or powder horn. Presentlythey reached the main army, which was going into camp for the night. Many camp fires were built, and the soldiers, happy in their victory, were getting ready for supper. But there was no disorder. They had beentold already that they were to march again in the morning. 

Henry, Paul, Tom, Jim, and Shif'less Sol went back over the field ofbattle, where many of the dead still lay. Twilight was now coming, andit was a somber sight. The earthwork, the thickets, and the trees weretorn by cannon balls. Some tents raised by the Tories lay in ruins, andthe earth was stained with many dark splotches. But the army had passedon, and it was silent and desolate where so many men had fought. Thetwilight drew swiftly on to night, and out of the forest came grewsomesounds. The wolves, thick now in a region which the Iroquois had doneso much to turn into a wilderness, were learning welcome news, and theywere telling it to one another. By and by, as the night deepened, thefive saw fiery eyes in the thickets, and the long howls came again. 

"It sounds like the dirge of the people of the Long House, " said Paul, upon whose sensitive mind the scene made a deep impression. 

The others nodded. At that moment they did not feel the flush of victoryin its full force. It was not in their nature to rejoice over a fallenfoe. Yet they knew the full value of the victory, and none of them couldwish any part of it undone. They returned slowly to the camp, and oncemore they heard behind them the howl of the wolves as they invaded thebattlefield. 

They were glad when they saw the cheerful lights of the camp firestwinkling through the forest, and heard the voices of many men talking. Heemskerk welcomed them there. 

"Come, lads, " he said. "You must eat-you won't find out until you begin, how hungry you are-and then you must sleep, because we march earlyto-morrow, and we march fast. "

The Dutchman's words were true. They had not tasted food since morning;they had never thought of it, but now, with the relaxation from battle, they found themselves voraciously hungry. 

"It's mighty good, " said Shif'less Sol, as they sat by a fire and atebread and meat and drank coffee, "but I'll say this for you, you oldornery, long-legged Jim Hart, it ain't any better than the venison an'bulffaler steaks that you've cooked fur us many a time. "

"An' that I'm likely to cook fur you many a time more, " said Long Jimcomplacently. 

"But it will be months before you have any chance at buffalo again, Jim, " said Henry. "We are going on a long campaign through the Iroquoiscountry. "

"An' it's shore to be a dangerous one, " said Shif'less Sol. "Men likewarriors o' the Iroquois ain't goin' to give up with one fight. They'llbe hangin' on our flanks like wasps. "

"That's true, " said Henry, "but in my opinion the Iroquois areoverthrown forever. One defeat means more to them than a half dozen tous. "

They said little more, but by and by lay down to sleep before the fires. They had toiled so long and so faithfully that the work of watching andscouting that night could be intrusted to others. Yet Henry couldnot sleep for a long time. The noises of the night interested him. Hewatched the men going about, and the sentinels pacing back and fortharound the camp. The sounds died gradually as the men lay down and sankto sleep. The fires which had formed a great core of light also sank, and the shadows crept toward the camp. The figures of the pacingsentinels, rifle on shoulder, gradually grew dusky. Henry's nerves, attuned so long to great effort, slowly relaxed. Deep peace came overhim, and his eyelids drooped, the sounds in the camp sank to thelowest murmur, but just as he was falling asleep there came from thebattlefield behind then the far, faint howl of a wolf, the dirge of theIroquois. 

CHAPTER XXII. LITTLE BEARD'S TOWN

The trumpets called early the next morning, and the five rose, refreshed, ready for new labors. The fires were already lighted, andbreakfast was cooking. Savory odors permeated the forest. But as soon asall had eaten, the army marched, going northward and westward, intendingto cut through the very center of the Iroquois country. Orders had comefrom the great commander that the power of the Six Nations, which hadbeen so long such a terrible scourge on the American frontier, must beannihilated. They must be made strangers in their own country. Women andchildren were not to be molested, but their towns must perish. 

As Thayendanegea had said the night before the Battle of the Chemung, the power beyond the seas that had urged the Iroquois to war on theborder did not save them. It could not. British and Tories alike hadpromised them certain victory, and for a while it had seemed that thepromises would come true. But the tide had turned, and the Iroquois werefugitives in their own country. 

The army continued its march through the wilderness, the scouts in frontand heavy parties of riflemen on either flank. There was no chance fora surprise. Henry and his comrades were aware that Indian bands stilllurked in the forest, and they had several narrow escapes from thebullets of ambushed foes, but the progress of the army was irresistible. Nothing could check it for a moment, however much the Indian and Torychiefs might plan. 

They camped again that night in the forest, with a thorough ring ofsentinels posted against surprise, although there was little danger ofthe latter, as the enemy could not, for the present at least, bring asufficient force into the field. But after the moon had risen, the five, with Heemskerk, went ahead through the forest. The Iroquois town ofKanawaholla lay just ahead, and the army would reach it on the morrow. It was the intention of the scouts to see if it was still occupied. 

It was near midnight when the little party drew near to Kanawahollaand watched it from the shelter of the forest. Like most other Iroquoistowns, it contained wooden houses, and cultivated fields were about it. No smoke rose from any of the chimneys, but the sharp eyes of the scoutssaw loaded figures departing through a great field of ripe and wavingcorn. It was the last of the inhabitants, fleeing with what they couldcarry. Two or three warriors might have been in that group of fugitives, but the scouts made no attempt to pursue. They could not restrain alittle feeling of sympathy and pity, although a just retribution wascoming. 

"If the Iroquois had only stood neutral at the beginning of the war, aswe asked them, " said Heemskerk, "how much might have been spared to bothsides! Look! Those people are stopping for a moment. "

The burdened figures, perhaps a dozen, halted at the far edge of thecorn field. Henry and Paul readily imagined that they were taking alast look at their town, and the feeling of pity and sympathy deepened, despite Wyoming, Cherry Valley, and all the rest. But that feelingnever extended to the white allies of the Iroquois, whom Thayendanegeacharacterized in word and in writing as "more savage than the savagesthemselves. "

The scouts waited an hour, and then entered the town. Not a soul was inKanawaholla. Some of the lighter things had been taken away, but thatwas all. Most of the houses were in disorder, showing the signs of hastyflight, but the town lay wholly at the mercy of the advancing army. Henry and his comrades withdrew with the news, and the next day, whenthe troops advanced, Kanawaholla was put to the torch. In an hour it wassmoking ruins, and then the crops and fruit trees were destroyed. 

Leaving ruin behind, the army continued its march, treading the Iroquoispower under foot and laying waste the country. One after anotherthe Indian towns were destroyed, Catherinetown, Kendaia, Kanadesaga, Shenanwaga, Skoiyase, Kanandaigua, Honeyoye, Kanaghsawa, Gathtsewarohare, and others, forming a long roll, bearing the soundingIroquois names. Villages around Cayuga and other lakes were burnedby detachments. The smoke of perishing towns arose everywhere inthe Iroquois country, while the Iroquois themselves fled before theadvancing army. They sent appeal after appeal for help from those towhom they had given so much help, but none came. 

It was now deep autumn, and the nights grew cold. The forests blazedwith brilliant colors. The winds blew, leaves rustled and fell. Thewinter would soon be at hand, and the Iroquois, so proud of what theyhad achieved, would have to find what shelter they could in the forestsor at the British posts on the Canadian frontier. Thayendanegea wasdestined to come again with bands of red men and white and inflict greatloss, but the power of the Six Nations was overthrown forever, afterfour centuries of victory and glory. Henry, Paul, and the rest were allthe time in the thick of it. The army, as the autumn advanced, marchedinto the Genesee Valley, destroying everything. Henry and Paul, asthey lay on their blankets one night, counted fires in three differentdirections, and every one of the three marked a perishing Indianvillage. It was not a work in which they took any delight; on thecontrary, it often saddened them, but they felt that it had to be done, and they could not shirk the task. 

In October, Henry, despite his youth, took command of a body of scoutsand riflemen which beat up the ways, and skirmished in advance of thearmy. It was a democratic little band, everyone saying what he pleased, but yielding in the end to the authority of the leader. They were nowfar up the Genesee toward the Great Lakes, and Henry formed the plan ofadvancing ahead of the army on the great Seneca village known variouslyas the Seneca Castle and Little Beard's Town, after its chief, a fullmatch in cruelty for the older Seneca chief, Hiokatoo. Several causesled to this decision. It was reported that Thayendanegea, Timmendiquas, all the Butlers and Johnsons, and Braxton Wyatt were there. While notlikely to be true about all, it was probably true about some of them, and a bold stroke might effect much. 

It is probable that Henry had Braxton Wyatt most in mind. The renegadewas in his element among the Indians and Tories, and he had developedgreat abilities as a partisan, being skillfully seconded by the squatTory, Coleman. His reputation now was equal at least to that of WalterButler, and he had skirmished more than once with the vanguard of thearmy. Growing in Henry's heart was a strong desire to match forces withhim, and it was quite probable that a swift advance might find him atthe Seneca Castle. 

The riflemen took up their march on a brisk morning in late autumn. Thenight had been clear and cold, with a touch of winter in it, andthe brilliant colors of the foliage had now turned to a solid brown. Whenever the wind blew, the leaves fell in showers. The sky was a fleecyblue, but over hills, valley, and forest hung a fine misty veil that isthe mark of Indian summer. The land was nowhere inhabited. They sawthe cabin of neither white man nor Indian. A desolation and a silence, brought by the great struggle, hung over everything. Many discerningeyes among the riflemen noted the beauty and fertility of the country, with its noble forests and rich meadows. At times they caught glimpsesof the river, a clear stream sparkling under the sun. 

"Makes me think o' some o' the country 'way down thar in Kentucky, " saidShif'less Sol, "an' it seems to me I like one about ez well ez t'other. Say, Henry, do you think we'll ever go back home? 'Pears to me thatwe're always goin' farther an' farther away. "

Henry laughed. 

"It's because circumstances have taken us by the hand and led us away, Sol, " he replied. 

"Then, " said the shiftless one with a resigned air, "I hope them samecircumstances will take me by both hands, an' lead me gently, butstrongly, back to a place whar thar is peace an' rest fur a lazy an'tired man like me. "

"I think you'll have to endure a lot, until next spring at least, " saidHenry. 

The shiftless one heaved a deep sigh, but his next words were whollyirrelevant. 

"S'pose we'll light on that thar Seneca Castle by tomorrow night?" heasked. 

"It seems to me that for a lazy and tired man you're extremely anxiousfor a fight, " Henry replied. 

"I try to be resigned, " said Shif'less Sol. But his eyes were sparklingwith the light of battle. 

They went into camp that night in a dense forest, with the Seneca Castleabout ten miles ahead. Henry was quite sure that the Senecas to whom itbelonged had not yet abandoned it, and with the aid of the other tribesmight make a stand there. It was more than likely, too, that the Senecashad sharpshooters and sentinels well to the south of their town, andit behooved the riflemen to be extremely careful lest they run into ahornet's nest. Hence they lighted no fires, despite a cold night windthat searched them through until they wrapped themselves in theirblankets. 

The night settled down thick and dark, and the band lay close in thethickets. Shif'less Sol was within a yard of Henry. He had observedhis young leader's face closely that day, and he had a mind of uncommonpenetration. 

"Henry, " he whispered, "you're hopin' that you'll find Braxton Wyatt an'his band at Little Beard's town?"

"That among other things, " replied Henry in a similar whisper. 

"That first, and the others afterwards, " persisted the shiftless one. 

"It may be so, " admitted Henry. 

"I feel the same way you do, " said Shif'less Sol. "You see, we've knowedBraxton Wyatt a long time, an' it seems strange that one who started outa boy with you an' Paul could turn so black. An' think uv all the cruelthings that he's done an' helped to do. I ain't hidin' my feelin's. I'mjest itchin' to git at him. "

"Yes, " said Henry, "I'd like for our band to have it out with his. "

Henry and Shif'less Sol, and in fact all of the five, slept that night, because Henry wished to be strong and vigorous for the followingnight, in view of an enterprise that he had in mind. The rosy Dutchman, Heemskerk, was in command of the guard, and he revolved continuallyabout the camp with amazing ease, and with a footstep so light that itmade no sound whatever. Now and then he came back in the thicket andlooked down at the faces of the sleeping five from Kentucky. "Gootboys, " he murmured to himself. "Brave boys, to stay here and help. Maythey go through all our battles and take no harm. The goot and great Godoften watches over the brave. "

Mynheer Cornelius Heemskerk, native of Holland, but devoted to the newnation of which he had made himself a part, was a devout man, despite alife of danger and hardship. The people of the woods do not lose faith, and he looked up at the dark skies as if he found encouragement there. Then he resumed his circle about the camp. He heard various noises-thehoot of an owl, the long whine of a wolf, and twice the footsteps ofdeer going down to the river to drink. But the sounds were all natural, made by the animals to which they belonged, and Heemskerk knew it. Once or twice he went farther into the forest, but he found nothing toindicate the presence of a foe, and while he watched thus, and beat upthe woods, the night passed, eventless, away. 

They went the next day much nearer to the Seneca Castle, and saw sureindications that it was still inhabited, as the Iroquois evidently werenot aware of the swift advance of the riflemen. Henry had learned thatthis was one of the largest and strongest of all the Iroquois towns, containing between a hundred and two hundred wooden houses, and with apopulation likely to be swollen greatly by fugitives from the Iroquoistowns already destroyed. The need of caution--great caution--was bornein upon him, and he paid good heed. 

The riflemen sought another covert in the deep forest, now about threemiles from Little Beard's Town, and lay there, while Henry, accordingto his plan, went forth at night with Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross. He wasresolved to find out more about this important town, and his enterprisewas in full accord with his duties, chief among which was to save thevanguard of the army from ambush. 

When the complete darkness of night had come, the three left the covert, and, after traveling a short distance through the forest, turned intoward the river. As the town lay on or near the river, Henry thoughtthey might see some signs of Indian life on the stream, and from thisthey could proceed to discoveries. 

But when they first saw the river it was desolate. Not a canoe wasmoving on its surface, and the three, keeping well in the undergrowth, followed the bank toward the town. But the forest soon ceased, and theycame upon a great field, where the Senecas had raised corn, and wherestalks, stripped of their ears and browned by the autumn cold, werestill standing. But all the work of planting, tending, and reaping thisgreat field, like all the other work in all the Iroquois fields, hadbeen done by the Iroquois women, not by the warriors. 

Beyond the field they saw fruit trees, and beyond these, faint linesof smoke, indicating the position of the great Seneca Castle. The drycornstalks rustled mournfully as the wind blew across the field. 

"The stalks will make a little shelter, " said Henry, "and we must crossthe field. We want to keep near the river. "

"Lead on, " said Shif'less Sol. 

They took a diagonal course, walking swiftly among the stalks andbearing back toward the river. They crossed the field without beingobserved, and came into a thick fringe of trees and undergrowth alongthe river. They moved cautiously in this shelter for a rod or two, and then the three, without word from any one of them, stoppedsimultaneously. They heard in the water the unmistakable ripple made bya paddle, and then the sound of several more. They crept to the edge ofthe bank and crouched down among the bushes. Then they saw a singularprocession. 

A half-dozen Iroquois canoes were moving slowly up the stream. They werein single file, and the first canoe was the largest. But the aspect ofthe little fleet was wholly different from that of an ordinary groupof Iroquois war canoes. It was dark, somber, and funereal, and inevery canoe, between the feet of the paddlers, lay a figure, stiffand impassive, the body of a chief slain in battle. It had all theappearance of a funeral procession, but the eyes of the three, as theyroved over it, fastened on a figure in the first canoe, and, used asthey were to the strange and curious, every one of them gave a start. 

The figure was that of a woman, a wild and terrible creature, who halfsat, half crouched in the canoe, looking steadily downward. Her longblack hair fell in disordered masses from her uncovered head. She wore abrilliant red dress with savage adornments, but it was stained and torn. The woman's whole attitude expressed grief, anger, and despair. 

"Queen Esther!" whispered Henry. The other two nodded. 

So horrifying had been the impression made upon him by this woman atWyoming that he could not feel any pity for her now. The picture of thegreat war tomahawk cleaving the heads of bound prisoners was still toovivid. She had several sons, one or two of whom were slain in battlewith the colonists, and the body that lay in the boat may have been oneof them. Henry always believed that it was-but he still felt no pity. 

As the file came nearer they heard her chanting a low song, and now sheraised her face and tore at her black hair. 

"They're goin' to land, " whispered Shif'less Sol. 

The head of the file was turned toward the shore, and, as it approached, a group of warriors, led by Little Beard, the Seneca chief, appearedamong the trees, coming forward to meet them. The three in their covertcrouched closer, interested so intensely that they were prepared tobrave the danger in order to remain. But the absorption of the Iroquoisin what they were about to do favored the three scouts. 

As the canoes touched the bank, Catharine Montour rose from hercrouching position and uttered a long, piercing wail, so full of grief, rage, and despair that the three in the bushes shuddered. It wasfiercer than the cry of a wolf, and it came back from the dark forest interrifying echoes. 

"It's not a woman, but a fiend, " whispered Henry; and, as before, hiscomrades nodded in assent. 

The woman stood erect, a tall and stalwart figure, but the beauty thathad once caused her to be received in colonial capitals was long sincegone. Her white half of blood had been submerged years ago in her Indianhalf, and there was nothing now about her to remind one of civilizationor of the French Governor General of Canada who was said to have beenher father. 

The Iroquois stood respectfully before her. It was evident that she hadlost none of her power among the Six Nations, a power proceeding partlyfrom her force and partly from superstition. As the bodies were broughtashore, one by one, and laid upon the ground, she uttered the longwailing cry again and again, and the others repeated it in a sort ofchorus. 

When the bodies-and Henry was sure that they must all be those ofchiefs-were laid out, she tore her hair, sank down upon the ground, andbegan a chant, which Tom Ross was afterwards able to interpret roughlyto the others. She sang:

 The white men have come with the cannon and bayonet, Numerous as forest leaves the army has come. Our warriors are driven like deer by the hunter, Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

 Our towns are burned and our fields uprooted, Our people flee through the forest for their lives, The king who promised to help us comes not. Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

 The great chiefs are slain and their bodies lie here. No longer will they lead the warriors in battle; No more will they drive the foe from the thicket. Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

 Scalps we have taken from all who hated us; None, but feared us in the days of our glory. But the cannon and bayonet have taken our country; Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

She chanted many verses, but these were all that Tom Ross could everremember or translate. But every verse ended with the melancholyrefrain: "Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!" which theothers also repeated in chorus. Then the warriors lifted up the bodies, and they moved in procession toward the town. The three watched them, but they did not rise until the funeral train had reached the fruittrees. Then they stood up, looked at one another, and breathed sighs ofrelief. 

"I don't care ef I never see that woman ag'in, " said Shif'less Sol. "Shegives me the creeps. She must be a witch huntin' for blood. She is shoreto stir up the Iroquois in this town. "

"That's true, " said Henry, "but I mean to go nearer. "

"Wa'al, " said Tom Ross, "I reckon that if you mean it we mean it, too. "

"There are certainly Tories in the town, " said Henry, "and if we are seenwe can probably pass for them. I'm bound to find out what's here. "

"Still huntin' fur Braxton Wyatt, " said Shif'less Sol. 

"I mean to know if he's here, " said Henry. 

"Lead on, " said the shiftless one. 

They followed in the path of the procession, which was now out of sight, and entered the orchard. From that point they saw the houses and greatnumbers of Indians, including squaws and children, gathered in the openspaces, where the funeral train was passing. Queen Esther still stalkedat its head, but her chant was now taken up by many scores of voices, and the volume of sound penetrated far in the night. Henry yet reliedupon the absorption of the Iroquois in this ceremonial to give hima chance for a good look through the town, and he and his comradesadvanced with boldness. 

They passed by many of the houses, all empty, as their occupants hadgone to join in the funeral lament, but they soon saw white men-a fewof the Royal Greens, and some of the Rangers, and other Tories, who weredressed much like Henry and his comrades. One of them spoke to Shif'lessSol, who nodded carelessly and passed by. The Tory seemed satisfied andwent his way. 

"Takes us fur some o' the crowd that's come runnin' in here ahead o' thearmy, " said the shiftless one. 

Henry was noting with a careful eye the condition of the town. Hesaw that no preparations for defense had been made, and there was noevidence that any would be made. All was confusion and despair. Alreadysome of the squaws were fleeing, carrying heavy burdens. The threecoupled caution with boldness. If they met a Tory they merely exchangeda word or two, and passed swiftly on. Henry, although he had seen enoughto know that the army could advance without hesitation, still pursuedthe quest. Shif'less Sol was right. At the bottom of Henry's heart wasa desire to know whether Braxton Wyatt was in Little Beard's Town, adesire soon satisfied, as they reached the great Council House, turned acorner of it, and met the renegade face to face. 

Wyatt was with his lieutenant, the squat Tory, Coleman, and he uttereda cry when he saw the tall figure of the great youth. There was no lightbut that of the moon, but he knew his foe in an instant. 

"Henry Ware!" he cried, and snatched his pistol from his belt. 

They were so close together that Henry did not have time to use aweapon. Instinctively he struck out with his fist, catching Wyatt on thejaw, and sending him down as if he had been shot. Shif'less Sol and TomRoss ran bodily over Coleman, hurling him down, and leaping across hisprostrate figure. Then they ran their utmost, knowing that their livesdepended on speed and skill. 

They quickly put the Council House between them and their pursuers, anddarted away among the houses. Braxton Wyatt was stunned, but he speedilyregained his wits and his feet. 

"It was the fellow Ware, spying among us again!" he cried to hislieutenant, who, half dazed, was also struggling up. "Come, men! Afterthem! After them!"

A dozen men came at his call, and, led by the renegade, they began asearch among the houses. But it was hard to find the fugitives. Thelight was not good, many flitting figures were about, and the franticsearch developed confusion. Other Tories were often mistaken for thethree scouts, and were overhauled, much to their disgust and that of theoverhaulers. Iroquois, drawn from the funeral ceremony, began to joinin the hunt, but Wyatt could give them little information. He had merelyseen an enemy, and then the enemy had gone. It was quite certain thatthis enemy, or, rather, three of them, was still in the town. 

Henry and his comrades were crafty. Trained by ambush and escape, flightand pursuit, they practiced many wiles to deceive their pursuers. WhenWyatt and Coleman were hurled down they ran around the Council House, alarge and solid structure, and, finding a door on the opposite side andno one there or in sight from that point, they entered it, closing thedoor behind them. 

They stood in almost complete darkness, although at length they madeout the log wall of the great, single room which constituted the CouncilHouse. After that, with more accustomed eyes, they saw on the wall arms, pipes, wampum, and hideous trophies, some with long hair and some withshort. The hair was usually blonde, and most of the scalps had beenstretched tight over little hoops. Henry clenched his fist in thedarkness. 

"Mebbe we're walkin' into a trap here, " said Shif'less Sol. 

"I don't think so, " said Henry. "At any rate they'd find us if we wererushing about the village. Here we at least have a chance. "

At the far end of the Council House hung mats, woven of rushes, and thethree sat down behind them in the very heart of the Iroquois sanctuary. Should anyone casually enter the Council House they would still behidden. They sat in Turkish fashion on the floor, close together andwith their rifles lying across their knees. A thin light filteredthrough a window and threw pallid streaks on the floor, which they couldsee when they peeped around the edge of the mats. But outside theyheard very clearly the clamor of the hunt as it swung to and fro in thevillage. Shif'less Sol chuckled. It was very low, but it was a chuckle, nevertheless, and the others heard. 

"It's sorter takin' an advantage uv 'em, " said the shiftless one, "layin' here in thar own church, so to speak, while they're ragin' an'tearin' up the earth everywhar else lookin' fur us. Gives me a mightysnug feelin', though, like the one you have when you're safe in a biglog house, an' the wind an' the hail an' the snow are beatin' outside. "

"You're shorely right, Sol, " said Tom Ross. 

"Seems to me, " continued the irrepressible Sol, "that you did git in agood lick at Braxton Wyatt, after all. Ain't he unhappy now, bitin' hisfingers an' pawin' the earth an' findin' nothin'? I feel real sorry, I do, fur Braxton. It's hard fur a nice young feller to have to suffersech disappointments. "

Shif'less Sol chuckled again, and Henry was forced to smile in thedarkness. Shif'less Sol was not wholly wrong. It would be a bitter blowto Braxton Wyatt. Moreover, it was pleasant where they sat. A hard floorwas soft to them, and as they leaned against the wall they could relaxand rest. 

"What will our fellows out thar in the woods think?" asked Tom Ross. 

"They won't have to think, " replied Henry. "They'll sit quiet as we'redoing and wait. "

The noise of the hunt went on for a long time outside. War whoops camefrom different points of the village. There were shrill cries of womenand children, and the sound of many running feet. After a while it beganto sink, and soon after that they heard no more noises than those ofpeople preparing for flight. Henry felt sure that the town would beabandoned on the morrow, but his desire to come to close quarters withBraxton Wyatt was as strong as ever. It was certain that the army couldnot overtake Wyatt's band, but he might match his own against it. He wasthinking of making the attempt to steal from the place when, to theirgreat amazement, they heard the door of the Council House open and shut, and then footsteps inside. 

Henry looked under the edge of the hanging mat and saw two dusky figuresnear the window. 

CHAPTER XXIII. THE FINAL FIGHT

Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross were also looking under the mats, and thethree would have recognized those figures anywhere. The taller wasTimmendiquas, the other Thayendanegea. The thin light from the windowfell upon their faces, and Henry saw that both were sad. Haughty andproud they were still, but each bore the look that comes only fromcontinued defeat and great disappointment. It is truth to say thatthe concealed three watched them with a curiosity so intense thatall thought of their own risk was forgotten. To Henry, as well as hiscomrades, these two were the greatest of all Indian chiefs. 

The White Lightning of the Wyandots and the Joseph Brant of the Mohawksstood for a space side by side, gazing out of the window, taking a lastlook at the great Seneca Castle. It was Thayendanegea who spoke first, using Wyandot, which Henry understood. 

"Farewell, my brother, great chief of the Wyandots, " he said. "You havecome far with your warriors, and you have been by our side in battle. The Six Nations owe you much. You have helped us in victory, and youhave not deserted us in defeat. You are the greatest of warriors, theboldest in battle, and the most skillful. "

Timmendiquas made a deprecatory gesture, but Thayendanegea went on:

"I speak but the truth, great chief of the Wyandots. We owe you much, and some day we may repay. Here the Bostonians crowd us hard, and theMohawks may yet fight by your side to save your own hunting grounds. "

"It is true, " said Timmendiquas. "There, too, we' must fight theAmericans. "

"Victory was long with us here, " said Thayendanegea, "but the rebelshave at last brought an army against us, and the king who persuadedus to make war upon the Americans adds nothing to the help that he hasgiven us already. Our white allies were the first to run at the Chemung, and now the Iroquois country, so large and so beautiful, is at the mercyof the invader. We perish. In all the valleys our towns lie in ashes. The American army will come to-morrow, and this, the great SenecaCastle, the last of our strongholds, will also sink under the flames. I know not how our people will live through the Winter that is yet tocome. Aieroski has turned his face from us. "

But Timmendiquas spoke words of courage and hope. 

"The Six Nations will regain their country, " he said. "The greatLeague of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee, which has been victorious for so manygenerations, cannot be destroyed. All the tribes from here to theMississippi will help, and will press down upon the settlements. I willreturn to stir them anew, and the British posts will give us arms andammunition. "

The light of defiance shone once more in the eyes of Thayendanegea. 

"You raise my spirits again, " he said. "We flee now, but we shall comeback again. The Ho-de-no-saunee can never submit. We will ravage alltheir settlements, and burn and destroy. We will make a wilderness wherethey have been. The king and his men will yet give us more help. "

Part of his words came true, and the name of the raiding Thayendanegeawas long a terror, but the Iroquois, who had refused the requestedneutrality, had lost their Country forever, save such portions as thevictor in the end chose to offer to them. 

"And now, as you and your Wyandots depart within the half hour, I giveyou a last farewell, " said Thayendanegea. 

The hands of the two great chiefs met in a clasp like that of the whiteman, and then Timmendiquas abruptly left the Council House, shutting thedoor behind him. Thayendanegea lingered a while at the window, andthe look of sadness returned to his face. Henry could read many of thethoughts that were passing through the Mohawk's proud mind. 

Thayendanegea was thinking of his great journey to London, of thepower and magnificence that he had seen, of the pride and glory ofthe Iroquois, of the strong and numerous Tory faction led by SirJohn Johnson, the half brother of the children of Molly Brant, Thayendanegea's own sister, of the Butlers and all the others who hadsaid that the rebels would be easy to conquer. He knew better now, he had long known better, ever since that dreadful battle in the darkdefile of the Oriskany, when the Palatine Germans, with old Herkimer attheir head, beat the Tories, the English, and the Iroquois, and made thetaking of Burgoyne possible. The Indian chieftain was a statesman, and it may be that from this moment he saw that the cause of both theIroquois and their white allies was doomed. Presently Thayendanegea leftthe window, walking slowly toward the door. He paused there a moment ortwo, and then went out, closing it behind him, as Timmendiquas had done. The three did not speak until several minutes after he had gone. 

"I don't believe, " said Henry, "that either of them thinks, despitetheir brave words, that the Iroquois can ever win back again. "

"Serves 'em right, " said Tom Ross. "I remember what I saw at Wyoming. "

"Whether they kin do it or not, " said the practical Sol, "it's time forus to git out o' here, an' go back to our men. "

"True words, Sol, " said Henry, "and we'll go. "

Examining first at the window and then through the door, openedslightly, they saw that the Iroquois village bad become quiet. Thepreparations for departure had probably ceased until morning. Forthstole the three, passing swiftly among the houses, going, with silentfoot toward the orchard. An old squaw, carrying a bundle from a house, saw them, looked sharply into their faces, and knew them to be white. She threw down her bundle with a fierce, shrill scream, and ran, repeating the scream as she ran. 

Indians rushed out, and with them Braxton Wyatt and his band. Wyattcaught a glimpse of a tall figure, with two others, one on each side, running toward the orchard, and he knew it. Hate and the hope to captureor kill swelled afresh. He put a whistle to his lip and blew shrilly. It was a signal to his band, and they came from every point, leading thepursuit. 

Henry heard the whistle, and he was quite sure that it was Wyatt who hadmade the sound. A single glance backward confirmed him. He knew Wyatt'sfigure as well as Wyatt knew his, and the dark mass with him wascertainly composed of his own men. The other Indians and Tories, inall likelihood, would turn back soon, and that fact would give him thechance he wished. 

They were clear of the town now, running lightly through the orchard, and Shif'less Sol suggested that they enter the woods at once. 

"We can soon dodge 'em thar in the dark, " he said. 

"We don't want to dodge 'em, " said Henry. 

The shiftless one was surprised, but when he glanced at Henry's face heunderstood. 

"You want to lead 'em on an' to a fight?" he said. 

Henry nodded. 

"Glad you thought uv it, " said Shif'less Sol. 

They crossed the very corn field through which they had come, BraxtonWyatt and his band in full cry after them. Several shots were fired, butthe three kept too far ahead for any sort of marksmanship, and they werenot touched. When they finally entered the woods they curved a little, and then, keeping just far enough ahead to be within sight, but notclose enough for the bullets, Henry led them straight toward the camp ofthe riflemen. As he approached, he fired his own rifle, and utteredthe long shout of the forest runner. He shouted a second time, andnow Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross joined in the chorus, their great crypenetrating far through the woods. 

Whether Braxton Wyatt or any of his mixed band of Indians and Toriessuspected the meaning of those great shouts Henry never knew, but thepursuit came on with undiminished speed. There was a good silver moonnow, shedding much light, and he saw Wyatt still in the van, withhis Tory lieutenant close behind, and after them red men and white, spreading out like a fan to inclose the fugitives in a trap. The bloodleaped in his veins. It was a tide of fierce joy. He had achieved bothof the purposes for which he had come. He had thoroughly scouted theSeneca Castle, and he was about to come to close quarters with BraxtonWyatt and the band which he had made such a terror through the valleys. 

Shif'less Sol saw the face of his young comrade, and he was startled. He had never before beheld it so stern, so resolute, and so pitiless. Heseemed to remember as one single, fearful picture all the ruthless andterrible scenes of the last year. Henry uttered again that cry which wasat once a defiance and a signal, and from the forest ahead of him it wasanswered, signal for signal. The riflemen were coming, Paul, Long Jim, and Heemskerk at their head. They uttered a mighty cheer as they saw theflying three, and their ranks opened to receive them. From the Indiansand Tories came the long whoop of challenge, and every one in eitherband knew that the issue was now about to be settled by battle, andby battle alone. They used all the tactics of the forest. Both sidesinstantly dropped down among the trees and undergrowth, three or fourhundred yards apart, and for a few moments there was no sound save heavybreathing, heard only by those who lay close by. Not a single humanbeing would have been visible to an ordinary eye there in the moonlight, which tipped boughs and bushes with ghostly silver. Yet no area so smallever held a greater store of resolution and deadly animosity. On oneside were the riflemen, nearly every one of whom had slaughtered kin tomourn, often wives and little children, and on the other the Tories andIroquois, about to lose their country, and swayed by the utmost passionsof hate and revenge. 

"Spread out, " whispered Henry. "Don't give them a chance to flank us. You, Sol, take ten men and go to the right, and you, Heemskerk, take tenand go to the left. "

"It is well, " whispered Heemskerk. "You have a great head, MynheerHenry. "

Each promptly obeyed, but the larger number of the riflemen remainedin the center, where Henry knelt, with Paul and Long Jim on one side ofhim, and Silent Tom on the other. When he thought that the two flankingparties had reached the right position, he uttered a low whistle, andback came two low whistles, signals that all was ready. Then the linebegan its slow advance, creeping forward from tree to tree and frombush to bush. Henry raised himself up a little, but he could not yet seeanything where the hostile force lay hidden. They went a little farther, and then all lay down again to look. 

Tom Ross had not spoken a word, but none was more eager than he. He wasalmost flat upon the ground, and he had been pulling himself along by asort of muscular action of his whole body. Now he was so still thathe did not seem to breathe. Yet his eyes, uncommonly eager now, weresearching the thickets ahead. They rested at last on a spot of brownshowing through some bushes, and, raising his rifle, he fired with sureaim. The Iroquois uttered his death cry, sprang up convulsively, andthen fell back prone. Shots were fired in return, and a dozen riflemenreplied to them. The battle was joined. 

They heard Braxton Wyatt's whistle, the challenging war cry of theIroquois, and then they fought in silence, save for the crack of therifles. The riflemen continued to advance in slow, creeping fashion, always pressing the enemy. Every time they caught sight of a hostileface or body they sent a bullet at it, and Wyatt's men did the same. Thetwo lines came closer, and all along each there were many sharp littlejets of fire and smoke. Some of the riflemen were wounded, and twowere slain, dying quietly and without interrupting their comrades, whocontinued to press the combat, Henry always leading in the center, andShif'less Sol and Heemskerk on the flanks. 

This battle so strange, in which faces were seen only for a moment, andwhich was now without the sound of voices, continued without a moment'scessation in the dark forest. The fury of the combatants increased asthe time went on, and neither side was yet victorious. Closer and closercame the lines. Meanwhile dark clouds were piling in a bank in thesouthwest. Slow thunder rumbled far away, and the sky was cut atintervals by lightning. But the combatants did not notice the heralds ofstorm. Their attention was only for each other. 

It seemed to Henry that emotions and impulses in him had culminated. Before him were the worst of all their foes, and his pitiless resolvewas not relaxed a particle. The thunder and the lightning, although hedid not notice them, seemed to act upon him as an incitement, and withlow words he continually urged those about him to push the battle. 

Drops of rain fell, showing in the moonshine like beads of silver onboughs and twigs, but by and by the smoke from the rifle fire, presseddown by the heavy atmosphere, gathered among the trees, and the moon waspartly hidden. But file combat did not relax because of the obscurity. Wandering Indians, hearing the firing, came to Wyatt's relief, but, despite their aid, he was compelled to give ground. His were the mostdesperate and hardened men, red and white, in all the allied forces, butthey were faced by sharpshooters better than themselves. Many of themwere already killed, others were wounded, and, although Wyatt andColeman raged and strove to hold them, they began to give back, and sohard pressed were they that the Iroquois could not perform the sacredduty of carrying off their dead. No one sought to carry away the Tories, who lay with the rain, that had now begun to fall, beating upon them. 

So much had the riflemen advanced that they came to the point wherebodies of their enemies lay. Again that fierce joy surged up in Henry'sheart. His friends and he were winning. But he wished to do more thanwin. This band, if left alone, would merely flee from the Seneca Castlebefore the advance of the army, and would still exist to ravage and slayelsewhere. 

"Keep on, Tom! Keep on!" he cried to Ross and the others. "Never letthem rest!"

"We won't! We ain't dreamin' o' doin' sech a thing, " replied theredoubtable one as he loaded and fired. "Thar, I got another!"

The Iroquois, yielding slowly at first, began now to give way faster. Some sought to dart away to right or left, and bury themselves in theforest, but they were caught by the flanking parties of Shif'less Soland Heemskerk, and driven back on the center. They could not retreatexcept straight on the town, and the riflemen followed them step forstep. The moan of the distant thunder went on, and the soft rain fell, but the deadly crackle of the rifles formed a sharper, insistent notethat claimed the whole attention of both combatants. 

It was now the turn of the riflemen to receive help. Twenty or morescouts and others abroad in the forest were called by the rifle fire, and went at once into the battle. Then Wyatt was helped a second time bya band of Senecas and Mohawks, but, despite all the aid, they could notwithstand the riflemen. Wyatt, black with fury and despair, shouted tothem and sometimes cursed or even struck at them, but the retreatcould not be stopped. Men fell fast. Every one of the riflemen was asharpshooter, and few bullets missed. 

Wyatt was driven out of the forest and into the very corn field throughwhich Henry had passed. Here the retreat became faster, and, with shoutsof triumph, the riflemen followed after. Wyatt lost some men in theflight through the field, but when he came to the orchard, having theadvantage of cover, he made another desperate stand. 

But Shif'less Sol and Heemskerk took the band on the flanks, pouring ina destructive fire, and Wyatt, Coleman, and a fourth of his band, allthat survived, broke into a run for the town. 

The riflemen uttered shout after shout of triumph, and it was impossibleto restrain their pursuit. Henry would have stopped here, knowing thedanger of following into the town, especially when the army was near atband with an irresistible force, but he could not stay them. He decidedthen that if they would charge it must be done with the utmost fire andspirit. 

"On, men! On!" he cried. "Give them no chance to take cover. "

Shif'less Sol and Heemskerk wheeled in with the flanking parties, andthe riflemen, a solid mass now, increased the speed of pursuit. Wyattand his men had no chance to turn and fire, or even to reload. Bulletsbeat upon them as they fled, and here perished nearly all of that savageband. Wyatt, Coleman, and only a half dozen made good the town, wherea portion of the Iroquois who had not yet fled received them. But theexultant riflemen did not stop even there. They were hot on the heels ofWyatt and the fugitives, and attacked at once the Iroquois who came totheir relief. So fierce was their rush that these new forces were drivenback at once. Braxton Wyatt, Coleman, and a dozen more, seeing no otherescape, fled to a large log house used as a granary, threw themselvesinto it, barred the doors heavily, and began to fire from the upperwindows, small openings usually closed with boards. Other Indians fromthe covert of house, tepee, or tree, fired upon the assailants, and afresh battle began in the town. 

The riflemen, directed by their leaders, met the new situation promptly. Fired upon from all sides, at least twenty rushed into a house someforty yards from that of Braxton Wyatt. Others seized another house, while the rest remained outside, sheltered by little outhouses, trees, or inequalities of the earth, and maintained rapid sharpshooting inreply to the Iroquois in the town or to Braxton Wyatt's men in thehouse. Now the combat became fiercer than ever. The warriors utteredyells, and Wyatt's men in the house sent forth defiant shouts. Fromanother part of the town came shrill cries of old squaws, urging ontheir fighting men. 

It was now about four o'clock in the morning. The thunder and lightninghad ceased, but the soft rain was still falling. The Indians had lightedfires some distance away. Several carried torches. Helped by these, and, used so long to the night, the combatants saw distinctly. The five laybehind a low embankment, and they paid their whole attention to the bighouse that sheltered Wyatt and his men. On the sides and behind theywere protected by Heemskerk and others, who faced a coming swarm. 

"Keep low, Paul, " said Henry, restraining his eager comrade. "Thosefellows in the house can shoot, and we don't want to lose you. There, didn't I tell you!"

A bullet fired from the window passed through the top of Paul's cap, butclipped only his hair. Before the flash from the window passed, Long Jimfired in return, and something fell back inside. Bullets came from otherwindows. Shif'less Sol fired, and a Seneca fell forward banging half outof the window, his naked body a glistening brown in the firelight. Buthe hung only a few seconds. Then he fell to the ground and lay still. The five crouched low again, waiting a new opportunity. Behind them, andon either side, they heard the crash of the new battle and challengingcries. 

Braxton Wyatt, Coleman, four more Tories, and six Indians were stillalive in the strong log house. Two or three were wounded, but theyscarcely noticed it in the passion of conflict. The house was averitable fortress, and the renegade's hopes rose high as he heardthe rifle fire from different parts of the town. His own band had beenannihilated by the riflemen, led by Henry Ware, but he had a sanguinehope now that his enemies had rushed into a trap. The Iroquois wouldturn back and destroy them. 

Wyatt and his comrades presented a repellent sight as they crouched inthe room and fired from the two little windows. His clothes and thoseof the white men had been torn by bushes and briars in their flight, andtheir faces had been raked, too, until they bled, but they had paidno attention to such wounds, and the blood was mingled with sweat andpowder smoke. The Indians, naked to the waist, daubed with vermilion, and streaked, too, with blood, crouched upon the floor, with themuz'zles of their rifles at the windows, seeking something human tokill. One and all, red and white, they were now raging savages, Therewas not one among them who did not have some foul murder of woman orchild to his credit. 

Wyatt himself was mad for revenge. Every evil passion in him was up andleaping. His eyes, more like those of a wild animal than a human being, blazed out of a face, a mottled red and black. By the side of him thedark Tory, Coleman, was driven by impulses fully as fierce. 

"To think of it!" exclaimed Wyatt. "He led us directly into a trap, thatWare! And here our band is destroyed! All the good men that we gatheredtogether, except these few, are killed!"

"But we may pay them back, " said Coleman. "We were in their trap, butnow they are in ours! Listen to that firing and the war whoop! There areenough Iroquois yet in the town to kill every one of those rebels!"

"I hope so! I believe so!" exclaimed Wyatt. "Look out, Coleman! Ah, he'spinked you! That's the one they call Shif'less Sol, and he's the bestsharpshooter of them all except Ware!"

Coleman had leaned forward a little in his anxiety to secure a goodaim at something. He had disclosed only a little of his face, but in aninstant a bullet had seared his forehead like the flaming stroke of asword, passing on and burying itself in the wall. Fresh blood drippeddown over his face. He tore a strip from the inside of his coat, boundit about his head, and went on with the defense. 

A Mohawk, frightfully painted, fired from the other window. Like a flashcame the return shot, and the Indian fell back in the room, stone dead, with a bullet through his bead. 

"That was Ware himself, " said Wyatt. "I told you he was the best shot ofthem all. I give him that credit. But they're all good. Look out!There goes another of our men! It was Ross who did that! I tell you, becareful! Be careful!"

It was an Onondaga who fell this time, and he lay with his head on thewindow sill until another Indian pulled him inside. A minute later aTory, who peeped guardedly for a shot, received a bullet through hishead, and sank down on the floor. A sort of terror spread among theothers. What could they do in the face of such terrible sharpshooting?It was uncanny, almost superhuman, and they looked stupidly at oneanother. Smoke from their own firing had gathered in the room, and itformed a ghastly veil about their faces. They heard the crash of therifles outside from every point, but no help came to them. 

"We're bound to do something!" exclaimed Wyatt. "Here you, Jones, stickup the edge of your cap, and when they fire at it I'll put a bullet inthe man who pulls the trigger. "

Jones thrust up his cap, but they knew too much out there to be takenin by an old trick. The cap remained unhurt, but when Jones in hiseagerness thrust it higher until he exposed his arm, his wrist wassmashed in an instant by a bullet, and he fell back with a howl of pain. Wyatt swore and bit his lips savagely. He and all of them began to fearthat they were in another and tighter trap, one from which there was noescape unless the Iroquois outside drove off the riflemen, and of thatthey could as yet see no sign. The sharpshooters held their place behindthe embankment and the little outhouse, and so little as a finger, even, at the windows became a sure mark for their terrible bullets. A Seneca, seeking a new trial for a shot, received a bullet through the shoulder, and a Tory who followed him in the effort was slain outright. 

The light hitherto had been from the fires, but now the dawn was coming. Pale gray beams fell over the town, and then deepened into red andyellow. The beams reached the room where the beleaguered remains ofWyatt's band fought, but, mingling with the smoke, they gave a new andmore ghastly tint to the desperate faces. 

"We've got to fight!" exclaimed Wyatt. "We can't sit here and be takenlike beasts in a trap! Suppose we unbar the doors below and make a rushfor it?"

Coleman shook his head. "Every one of us would be killed within twentyyards, " he said. 

"Then the Iroquois must come back, " cried Wyatt. "Where is Joe Brant?Where is Timmendiquas, and where is that coward, Sir John Johnson? Willthey come?"

"They won't come, " said Coleman. 

They lay still awhile, listening to the firing in the town, which swayedhither and thither. The smoke in the room thinned somewhat, and thedaylight broadened and deepened. As a desperate resort they resumed firefrom the windows, but three more of their number were slain, and, bitterwith chagrin, they crouched once more on the floor out of range. Wyattlooked at the figures of the living and the dead. Savage despair tore athis heart again, and his hatred of those who bad done this increased. It was being served out to him and his band as they had served it outto many a defenseless family in the beautiful valleys of the border. Despite the sharpshooters, he took another look at the window, but keptso far back that there was no chance for a shot. 

"Two of them are slipping away, " he exclaimed. "They are Ross and theone they call Long Jim! I wish I dared a shot! Now they're gone!"

They lay again in silence for a time. There was still firing inthe town, and now and then they heard shouts. Wyatt looked at hislieutenant, and his lieutenant looked at him. 

"Yours is the ugliest face I ever saw, " said Wyatt. 

"I can say the same of yours-as I can't see mine, " said Coleman. 

The two gazed once more at the hideous, streaked, and grimed faces ofeach other, and then laughed wildly. A wounded Seneca sitting with hisback against the wall began to chant a low, wailing death song. 

"Shut up! Stop that infernal noise!" exclaimed Wyatt savagely. 

The Seneca stared at him with fixed, glassy eyes and continued hischant. Wyatt turned away, but that song was upon his nerves. He knewthat everything was lost. The main force of the Iroquois would notcome back to his help, and Henry Ware would triumph. He sat down on thefloor, and muttered fierce words under his breath. 

"Hark!" suddenly exclaimed Coleman. "What is that?"

A low crackling sound came to their ears, and both recognized itinstantly. It was the sound of flames eating rapidly into wood, and ofthat wood was built the house they now held. Even as they listened theycould hear the flames leap and roar into new and larger life. 

"This is, what those two, Ross and Hart, were up to!" exclaimed Wyatt. "We're not only trapped, but we're to be burned alive in our trap!"

"Not I, " said Coleman, "I'm goin' to make a rush for it. "

"It's the only thing to be done, " said Wyatt. "Come, all of you that areleft!"

The scanty survivors gathered around him, all but the wounded Seneca, who sat unmoved against the wall and continued to chant his death chant. Wyatt glanced at him, but said nothing. Then he and the others rusheddown the stairs. 

The lower room was filled with smoke, and outside the flames wereroaring. They unbarred the door and sprang into the open air. A showerof bullets met them. The Tory, Coleman, uttered a choking cry, threw uphis arms, and fell back in the doorway. Braxton Wyatt seized one of thesmaller men, and, holding him a moment or two before him to receive thefire of his foe, dashed for the corner of the blazing building. The manwhom he held was slain, and his own shoulder was grazed twice, but hemade the corner. In an instant he put the burning building between himand his pursuers, and ran as he had never run before in all his life, deadly fear putting wings on his heels. As he ran he heard the dull boomof a cannon, and he knew that the American army was entering the SenecaCastle. Ahead of him he saw the last of the Indians fleeing for thewoods, and behind him the burning house crashed and fell in amid leapingflames and sparks in myriads. He alone had escaped from the house. 

CHAPTER XXIV. DOWN THE OHIO

"We didn't get Wyatt, " said Henry, "but we did pretty well, nevertheless. "

"That's so, " said Shif'less Sol. "Thar's nothin' left o' his band buthisself, an' I ain't feelin' any sorrow 'cause I helped to do it. Iguess we've saved the lives of a good many innocent people with thismorning's work. "

"Never a doubt of it, " said Henry, "and here's the army now finishing upthe task. "

The soldiers were setting fire to the town in many places, and in twohours the great Seneca Castle was wholly destroyed. The five took nopart in this, but rested after their battles and labors. One or two hadbeen grazed by bullets, but the wounds were too trifling to be noticed. As they rested, they watched the fire, which was an immense one, fed byso much material. The blaze could be seen for many miles, and the ashesdrifted over all the forest beyond the fields. 

All the while the Iroquois were fleeing through the wilderness to theBritish posts and the country beyond the lakes, whence their allies hadalready preceded them. The coals of Little Beard's Town smoldered fortwo or three days, and then the army turned back, retracing its stepsdown the Genesee. 

Henry and his comrades felt that their work in the East was finished. Kentucky was calling to them. They had no doubt that Braxton Wyatt, nowthat his band was destroyed, would return there, and he would surelybe plotting more danger. It was their part to meet and defeat him. Theywished, too, to see again the valley, the river, and the village inwhich their people had made their home, and they wished yet more to lookupon the faces of these people. 

They left the army, went southward with Heemskerk and some others of theriflemen, but at the Susquehanna parted with the gallant Dutchman andhis comrades. 

"It is good to me to have known you, my brave friends, " said Heemskerk, "and I say good-by with sorrow to you, Mynheer Henry; to you, MynheerPaul; to you, Mynheer Sol; to you, Mynheer Tom; and to you, MynheerJim. "

He wrung their hands one by one, and then revolved swiftly away to hidehis emotion. 

The five, rifles on their shoulders, started through the forest. Whenthey looked back they saw Cornelius Heemskerk waving his hand to them. They waved in return, and then disappeared in the forest. It was a longjourney to Pittsburgh, but they found it a pleasant one. It was yetdeep autumn on the Pennsylvania hills, and the forest was glowing withscarlet and gold. The air was the very wine of life, and when theyneeded game it was there to be shot. As the cold weather hung off, theydid not hurry, and they enjoyed the peace of the forest. They realizednow that after their vast labors, hardships, and dangers, they neededa great rest, and they took it. It was singular, and perhaps not sosingular, how their minds turned from battle, pursuit, and escape, togentle things. A little brook or fountain pleased them. They admired themagnificent colors of the foliage, and lingered over the views from thelow mountains. Doe and fawn fled from them, but without cause. At nightthey built splendid fires, and sat before them, while everyone in histurn told tales according to his nature or experience. 

They bought at Pittsburgh a strong boat partly covered, and at the pointwhere the Allegheny and the Monongahela unite they set sail down theOhio. It was winter now, but in their stout caravel they did not care. They had ample supplies of all kinds, including ammunition, and theirhearts were light when they swung into the middle of the Ohio and movedwith its current. 

"Now for a great voyage, " said Paul, looking at the clear stream withsparkling eyes. 

"I wonder what it will bring to us, " said Shif'less Sol. 

"We shall see, " said Henry.