The Wilderness Fugitives

"Pretty well," assented the Mohawk, speaking in the lowest key and scanning the stream in every direction.

"Do you think they know where we are?" continued the young scout.

"Know we on river – they find us."

Upon hearing these alarming words, Rosa Minturn straightened up and peered anxiously about, impelled thereto by the manner, more than the utterance, of the leader.

"I think I hear the sound of another paddle," she said in a whisper, turning inquiringly to the Indian.

"Yes, two boats on water; looking for us; maybe find us."

"In which direction is this last one that Rosa noticed, and which I also hear?" asked Ned Clinton, in the same guarded tone.

Lena-Wingo answered by pointing toward the shore a little above a spot opposite where they were lying in the stream.

"Right there – he go 'bout – look for us."

"Yes, and I see him, too!" added Rosa, the next instant.

"There he come!" added the Mohawk, making the discovery at the same moment. "Stoop down, quick! must not see you! Put head low down, so can't see you – make no noise."

His command was obeyed at once. The other canoe having approached near enough to be seen itself, was sure to discover the boat. The heads of Ned Clinton and of the brother and sister were instantly lowered, so that they could not be seen from the outside, and they waited with throbbing hearts for the issue. The occupants of the strange boat descried the Mohawk almost as soon as he saw them, and as he expected they headed straight toward him. The action of Lena-Wingo depended for success on its very boldness, and he went at it with as much coolness and self-possession as if failure was impossible.

Lena-Wingo, being a Mohawk, was also an Iroquois, as much as if he were a member of the Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, or Seneca branch of the powerful confederation known as the Six Nations. His intention was to assume the character of a genuine enemy of the white race, and to answer whatever questions were put to him in a way to mislead their foes. Still, this trick had been played so often by him, that it required all the skill of which he was master. It was necessary also that he should not permit the strange canoe to come too near, else the deception would be detected.

As the boat drew nigh, he kept up a slight movement of his paddle, which caused the craft to glide in a slanting direction from the other.

"Where are the pale faces?" asked one of the four Iroquois who sat in the new boat, while the couple were separated by two or three rods.

"How should Magawan know?" asked the Mohawk in return, in a surly voice, as if angry that the question was put to him. "The warriors on the land are squaws, and they do not know how to look for the traitor and the pale faces. They have let them go again."

These words were spoken in the Indian tongue, the accent as clear as that of those who addressed him. There was truth and sense in what Lena-Wingo said, for it was this very suspicion that the Indians were not doing as well as they should that led to the canoe being launched from the other side.

"But they called to us that Lena-Wingo was on the river in a canoe," said one of the new-comers, sidling up toward the Mohawk, who was as cautiously sidling away from him.

"They spoke the truth if they said the pale faces have gone off again. I am looking for them."

"Why does Magawan look for them this way?"

"To find them," was the quick response. "Are you searching for them?"

"We have been sent out by Taunwaso, the great chief of the Oneidas, to find Lena-Wingo, the traitor, and the whites."

"Why don't you find them, then? If they are not here they are somewhere else. Go there and find them."

And, as if he were tired of the conversation, the Mohawk dipped his paddle lower than before, and deliberately paddled away from his questioners. The surliness of the repulse made it quite effective, and the four Iroquois sat for several minutes as if undecided what they ought to do after such an interview.

Lena-Wingo knew that he was in great peril, for he believed from the first that the others were not satisfied with the appearance of things. He shaped his action on the supposition that they would speedily detect the trick and start in pursuit. He kept up the river until he had gone far enough to screen his movements, when he made a sharp bend in the course he was following, and headed for the bank on his right. There was another canoe that was also hunting for them, as will be remembered, and, in case these two should meet, the whole truth would become known at once. Lena-Wingo was not mistaken in his suspicion that he heard the two boats at the same time, showing that they were not only very near, but drawing nearer every minute.

While the Mohawk was paddling in this fashion, striving to make his landing-place as far up stream as he could, he knew the two canoes had joined and that the hottest kind of a hunt was on foot. But there was not a great deal of water between him and the shore, and he quickly made it still less.

"Raise head now – make no noise!" he said, as the water foamed again from the bow of the canoe.

As the fugitives obeyed, they saw they were close to the bank, and the limbs of the overhanging trees were within their reach. Lena-Wingo kept along the shore for some distance further, when one turn of the paddle sent the canoe in so sharply against the bank that it stuck fast, and all were forced forward by the sudden stoppage. The Susquehanna was crossed at last.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE SOUTHEASTERN SHORE

The Mohawk felt that he had accomplished a great feat in the taking of the canoe before the very eyes of the Iroquois sentinel set to watch it and in successfully eluding the pursuit of the others. But the danger was not yet disposed of, for, at the moment the fugitives stepped from the canoe, the other two crafts were in swift pursuit, the occupants having learned the trick played upon them by the wily Mohawk. Although the canoe of the latter was invisible, yet they were well aware of the direction taken, and could not avoid a pretty accurate guess as to the destination of the occupants. Thus it was that they headed almost in a direct line for the precise point where the fugitives landed, and were not much behind them in reaching the spot.

The majority of persons, in making such a flight, would have started for the depths of the forest without an instant's delay, but the Mohawk perpetrated a little piece of strategy which proved of inestimable benefit to him and his friends. At the moment they stepped from the boat he seized the latter in a strong grasp and gave it a powerful impulse that sent it far out and down the stream. Although their pursuers were coming up rapidly, yet they were not quite in sight, and in the brief interval that must elapse before they could catch a glimpse of the empty craft, the purpose of Lena-Wingo was perfected. An exultant whoop from one of the pursuing canoes told of the discovery of the drifting boat, whose occupants had effected a landing but a second or two before. But the craft which caused the outcry was several rods below the spot where it had touched the land, and the fugitives themselves were still further removed from the water's edge, stealing along in the darkness of the woods from the Iroquois who were hastily gathering to the spot, apprised by a dozen signals of what had taken place.

The Indian, telling his friends to keep on the move and make no noise, remained in the rear, to learn what his foes intended to do. He saw the two canoes halt for a moment beside the empty boat, as if they wished to make sure that it held none of the party for whom they were hunting, and then they shot their own craft in to the shore, leaving the other to drift aimlessly down the river. The two which struck the bank did so at a point something more than a rod below where the other landing had taken place. There they met quite a number of others who came down from the woods, where they had been signaling to and answering calls from those across the stream. Then followed a wrangle, with the same prospect of conflict that occurred at no great time before. The provocation in the latter instance was much greater than in the former, for the fugitives had slipped through the hands of the Iroquois in the most exasperating manner. But there seemed, also, to be the identical level-headed ones, who were backed by an authority sufficient to compel the fiery warriors to keep the peace. The storm of passion subsided almost as soon as it rose.

Lena-Wingo was desirous of learning what the party, as a whole, would do, now that it was clear that the fugitives had succeeded in crossing the Susquehanna in spite of all the preparations to prevent it; but the warriors gathered around were so numerous and began to spread out in such a fashion, that his position became untenable, and he found it no easy matter to get out of his rather uncomfortable quarters and to rejoin his companions, who were awaiting him some little distance off. All were in high spirits over the success of the strategy of the Mohawk, but they could not shut their eyes to the fact that in one sense they had crossed the Rubicon. As there was no turning back, they must press forward.

With many whispered congratulations over the discomfiture of the Iroquois, the fugitives hurried forward until they reached the spot where they felt free to say what they chose without danger of being heard by their pursuers. The Mohawk was at the head of the little party and conducted them to the edge of a large clear space, where grain had been growing. As there was every convenience for sitting down and enjoying a comfortable rest, they paused, and for the first time that night felt the pleasure of knowing that there was nothing to be feared from the Tories and Indians.

"Lena-Wingo, you're a brick!" exclaimed Jo Minturn, taking the liberty of slapping the grim Indian a resounding blow on the back. "I couldn't have done that thing better if I had taken the contract myself."

The guide did not resent this familiarity, though at times it would have offended him.

"Iroquois get mad," he replied, with his usual grin. "When Iroquois get mad, then Lena-Wingo get glad."

"Yes; I suspect you were inclined that way, from what I've heard of your dealings with those people."

"Recollect that we haven't reached Wilkesbarre yet," put in Rosa, "and it isn't wise to rejoice until we're well out of the woods. It seems to me that the hardest part of the work still lies before us."

"Gal speak right," assented the Mohawk, with an approving nod. "Iroquois all round – look everywhere."

"It strikes me that is what they've been doing for the past few days," added Jo, who was not to be discouraged. "But they haven't made a success of it, so far."

"It seems to me," said Ned, addressing Jo, but meaning his words for Lena-Wingo, "that when the approaches to Wilkesbarre are guarded so closely it will be wiser for us to go somewhere else."

This scheme had been freely discussed by the two young scouts, and they had arranged that it should be introduced in this manner for the purpose of learning the views of the Mohawk.

"I have thought of the same thing," replied Jo, as if it were the first time it had been mentioned in his hearing. "And it does look as if it is risking a great deal to push right through the woods in this way, when there are hundreds of other paths by which we can escape the Iroquois."

"It would be a good trick on Colonel Butler, when he has arranged his redskins and Tories so that he is sure we will walk right into their hands, for him to learn that we have gone somewhere else."

"It can be done," said Jo, carrying out the plan fixed upon some time before. "We have already shown them that there is no use of their trying to stop us, when we have made up our minds to do something, – I mean Lena-Wingo more than us, – and so we can afford to retire and leave them to themselves."

"If they can't stop us," said Rosa, "what, then, is the use of acting as though they had done so?"

"See here," said her brother, turning rather sharply, "I thought Ned and I had arranged without your help."

Not one of the three imagined that Lena-Wingo was quick enough to take the cue from what was thus said by Jo, but such was the case. The Mohawk held his peace and listened, but he was not deceived.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE MOHAWK OBJECTS

"I forgot," Rosa answered, laughingly; "but you must try to put a little more logic in what you say."

"Logic!" repeated the young man. "What does a woman know about logic? However, we will discuss that some other time. Just now I'm busy with the new idea of Ned's. There's a good deal in what you said," he added, addressing his companion again, "and the more I consider it, the more favorably am I inclined. We can continue up the Susquehanna till we go so far that there's no danger from the Indians, and, when we believe the way is clear, we can come back. Colonel Butler is not going to stay long at Wyoming, for he dare not. He don't know how soon there will be a gathering of the forces that will swoop down on him, and he'll get out while he can. Consequently all we have to do is to remain invisible until he leaves."

"Nothing easier in the world," was the prompt remark of Ned, backing up his friend. "Jack, here, can keep out of their reach with no trouble. It would be a great relief to your parents, too, to know that Rosa is not running such a risk as it will be to try to get into the fort at Wilkesbarre."

"How angry Butler will be!" exclaimed Jo, with as much zest as if he saw the villain tearing his hair on account of his disappointment.

The plan of the young scouts was pretty well unfolded by this time, so that both were satisfied the Mohawk knew what the opinions were, and was able to give his own for the asking. Calm consideration of the proposition of the friends and companions must lead one to speak of them favorably. Colonel Butler knew that the fugitives were aiming for Wilkesbarre, and had taken every precaution to secure their capture. Nothing could be more certain than that they could not enter, nor even approach within range of the fortifications of that place, without encountering some of these redmen or Tories. It would seem, therefore, that the most foolhardy thing for the whites to do was to persevere in the effort to reach that place in the face of such danger. There were plenty of other directions that could be taken, and the plan suggested by the youths in their brief conversation was only one of the many that suggested themselves whenever they thought of the subject. Jo Minturn, believing their wishes had been sufficiently uncovered by what had been said, now addressed himself directly to the Mohawk:

"Lena-Wingo, you heard what we said; now I should like to know what you think of it."

"Nonsense."

There it was! an opinion about which there could be no misunderstanding. There was enough moonlight for the young scouts to see each other's faces, and they stared in blank dismay. The next thing they did was to look at Rosa, who was trying hard to restrain her laughter.

"You ought to be satisfied," she said, "without scowling at me that way; you asked Lena-Wingo what he thought of your plans, which you and Ned fixed up between you, and he told you in one word."

"That's the trouble; he didn't take quite as many words as we would have liked to hear. If he had talked the whole thing over, we would have gained a chance to argue, and perhaps convince him."

The Mohawk, as a matter of course, heard all that passed between his friends, and he seemed to think the time had come for him to put in an additional word or two.

"All nonsense," he said, by way of introducing the subject. "The Iroquois say Lena-Wingo shan't go to Wilkesbarre – all lie – Lena-Wingo will go there – Iroquois say Lena-Wingo shan't take gal there – all lie —will take gal there – Iroquois say Lena-Wingo run away from Brandt – all lie —never run away."

These broken sentences contained the secret of the Mohawk's course of action. It had now become a matter of pride with him, and since the Tories and Indians had made such elaborate preparations to prevent the fugitives reaching Wilkesbarre, he was fired by the resolve that the lines should be passed through, and the maiden placed safely behind the fortifications at that town. In making this determination he did not forget the interests of Rosa. He knew what he was doing, and was sure that he could accomplish it with safety to her, though he felt there was a possible doubt about running the two young men through the environing danger.

He saw, as well as his companions, that the plan proposed by them was attended with little danger, but when a scheme was in that shape it lost all attraction for him. To escape the Iroquois by dodging or running was attended, in his estimation, with a certain ignominy that made it repulsive to him. He was naturally elated in reflecting how neatly he had just outwitted them, and that fact was not calculated to lessen his confidence in his own prowess.

"Well, Lena-Wingo," said Jo, when the ripple of fun had died out, "you seem to have made up your mind on the subject, and I suppose there is no use of arguing with you."

"No use," was the response of the Indian.

"If that's the case," added Ned, "we may as well dismiss it, and find out what is to be done."

"Go to Wilkesbarre," said the Mohawk, as if he were determined there should be no misunderstanding of his position.

"I understand that, but the night must be pretty well gone, and it won't do for us to sit here for two or three days, so I would like to know what the next step is to be."

Ned Clinton expressed the wish that was on the tongue of his two friends, and they listened eagerly to the reply. The Indian straightened up his form, so that his slim, tall figure looked slimmer and taller than ever, and he took a minute or two to gaze into the gloom before answering.

"We go back yonder," he said, pointing in the direction of the mountains which form the southeastern boundary of the valley of Wyoming. "We go yonder – stay there – find way to go to Wilkesbarre."

The whites correctly interpreted this as meaning that he believed it prudent, in view of the fact that the direct approach to the place was so closely watched, to use some strategy to secure an entrance, the point in his mind being merely to beat the Iroquois, without considering the means by which it was done. In the range of mountains stretching to the southeast of the valley, where the Mohawk had taken Rosa many a time on a hunt, were numerous places offering secure hiding for the fugitives from the hunt of the enemies. It was the intention of Lena-Wingo to conduct his friends to that neighborhood, as he explained further, and then look over and watch the ground so carefully that he could commit no mistake when he did make his move. So soon as he should see the way clear, he would take Rosa to the shelter before the Tories and Indians could learn what he was trying to do.

Lena-Wingo spoke with so much quiet confidence that his listeners could not but feel something of the same spirit. As for Rosa, she favored his plan, and so expressed herself. The Indian had made his resolve before that, but he was as firm as the rock of Gibraltar, reinforced by her endorsement.

CHAPTER XX.

THE LONGEST WAY HOME

The little party of fugitives occupied the position on the margin of the grain-field for an hour or so longer, discussing the past and arranging their plans for the immediate future. As they had the time, the Mohawk took pains to explain some of his movements made on the other side of the river, and also when they were engaged in stealing across, which movements none of the party understood at the time. It was necessary at this stage of the proceedings for all to comprehend as fully as possible the plans that were now to be followed in the game, where the stakes were life itself.

Lena-Wingo assured them that with the coming of daylight the Iroquois would use every exertion to capture them, as it had also become a matter of pride on their part to outwit the Mohawk, with whom they were really making the fight. Some of them would hunt and follow the trail of the party, and every approach to the Wilkesbarre fortifications would be guarded by their best warriors. Such being the case, Ned and Jo were more convinced than ever that their plan of giving up this method was wise, but they said nothing, for they knew it was useless.

While they were talking the growing light in the eastern horizon apprised them that day was near, and that it was unsafe to wait longer. All instantly rose to their feet, looking upon the face of the warrior for direction as to what they were to do. Before he could speak, the sound of a rifle was heard, causing a start of alarm on the part of his companions. The latter noticed that the direction of the report was from the river, and, as it seemed, from the very spot where they had left it.

"What is the meaning of that?" asked Ned. "Can it have – "

Bang! bang! bang! came several other reports in quick succession, showing that something serious was going on. Every voice was hushed, and they looked in each other's faces, and then stared at the Mohawk as if they would read the explanation in his painted countenance. At the first glance there was nothing that could give them a clue on those bronzed features, as seen in the early light of the morning. The Indian was also listening and waiting till he could hear and learn more before saying anything. The firing lasted until it sounded as if a skirmish was going on close at hand. Could it be that a party of fugitive patriots was engaged in a fight with a lot of Tories and Indians?

When the firing had continued in a desultory way for several minutes, the whites caught the sound of whoops, showing that the redmen had a part in the trouble. The instant these cries fell on the ears of the Mohawk, his dark face lit up with a gleam of satisfaction, the expression of delight being noticed by all.

"What is it, Lena-Wingo?" asked Rosa. "Are they Iroquois and white folks that are fighting?"

"No, not that."

"What then?"

"Iroquois fighting Iroquois."

So his wish was granted, after all. The warriors had fallen into battle among themselves, with a sure benefit to the fugitives. Hence it was natural that the Mohawk, after being disappointed twice on the preceding night, should listen to the sounds of the strife with genuine pleasure. It looked as if with the coming of daylight the Iroquois had discovered that some of their number had blundered in the hunt for the Mohawk in a way that could not be forgiven. A deadly quarrel was the result, with the certainty that more than one of their bravest warriors would bite the dust before it could be terminated, even by the chiefs and leaders themselves. The fight lasted but a short time, for it was a fierce fire, which must exhaust itself speedily for want of fuel.

The Mohawk, however, heard enough to convince him that execution had been done, and his rejoicing was not interfered with through any fear that it had been quieted down as were the other two impending disturbances. But the morning was advancing, and the hours were as precious to the fugitives as to the Iroquois. The probabilities were that the revengeful enemies would soon be on their track, and the whites had but to remain where they were a short time longer to fall into their hands.

At the moment the noise of the conflict between the Indians ceased, Lena-Wingo, who had maintained the standing position from the first, moved off in a southerly course, looking around as a signal for his companions to follow him. They were heading toward the range of mountains which bounded the Wyoming valley on the southeast, and which loomed up dark and frowning in the gray mist of the early morning.

This route led them over cultivated ground and through woods, where it seemed to the whites they might halt and find all the shelter they could need. But the Mohawk pressed straight on, his destination being the mountains themselves. The guide of the party kept away from the cultivated portions of the valley as much as possible, for it was dangerous to approach any body of men, or the places where they were likely to be found. Lena-Wingo was in his own territory, and it was his intention to manage the business without asking for or accepting any suggestions from his friends.