Wyoming

"Oh, don't you wink at me that way, you scand'lous villain," she exclaimed, shaking her head; "if you say a word to me, or come any nearer, I'll scratch your eyes out!"

The Tory moved a little farther off.

CHAPTER XXXVI

Fred Godfrey, as may well be supposed, was amazed at the words of Habakkuk McEwen, but he believed the fellow was simply descending to this subterfuge in the hope of saving his life.

Understanding the nature of the man as well as he did, he could not find fault, and he made an effort to help him, without telling a clear untruth.

"I can say that before and after I joined my friends, he behaved very differently from the others."

"How?"

"He was asked to do several things for their benefit and refused, and he favored this attempt to get away by leaving the place where we had taken shelter in the rocks."

"That's because he was too cowardly to do anything else," broke in Mr. Brainerd.

"Did lie fire either of those shots that brought down a couple of our men?"

"I believe not-did he, Mr. Brainerd?"

"No; he can't shoot well enough to hit a flock of barns ten feet off, and he shivered so with fear he couldn't hold his gun in hand."

"That's a lie!" exclaimed Habakkuk, who began to feel hopeful; "I had a dozen chances to pick off some of the red men and I wouldn't do it, 'cause I was their friend."

"Wal, I'll 'tend to you after awhile," said Golcher, puzzled by the turn matters had taken. "You folks may sit down on the log a while, and I'll 'tend to another matter."

During this curious conversation the Senecas were grouped on the other side of the camp-fire, so that the faces of captors as well as captured were shown in the glare of the blaze, upon which more wood was flung.

Fred Godfrey regretted this, having resolved to make a break whenever the chance presented itself, for there was no mercy to be expected for him. The Senecas were impatient, and he was well aware that Jake Golcher hated him with a hatred that would stop at nothing in the way of suffering.

If convinced that the death of a soldier would be his, he would have stayed and died, like the brave youth he was.

But once away and he might do something for those who were dearer to him than his own life.

While he stood listening to the conversation recorded, he sought to finish that which he had tried to accomplish all the way thither – that was, to loosen the bonds that held his elbows and wrists as if they were bound with iron.

He could not make any progress, and he began to feel as though he had deferred the step too long. He thought to have overturned his immediate guards, and dashed in the woods, before reaching the camp of the Senecas.

This was destined to be an eventful night to all concerned. The Tory had taken a step toward Maggie Brainerd, with the manifest intention of addressing her, when a new-comer appeared on the scene, in the person of an Indian runner from the other side of the river.

It was evident he came from high authorities, with orders. From what followed, it is probable that the leaders of the Indians and Tories felt there was need of additional forces on the western bank, to complete the work of which much still remained to do.

Forty Fort, which contained many of the settlers, and women and children, had not yet surrendered, and the massacre could not be completed so long as a remnant of the patriots held out.

That such was the errand of the runner appeared from the fact that he addressed himself directly to Gray Panther, who the next moment summoned Golcher to his side, and the three held a brief conversation.

The captives naturally fixed their attention on them and noticed that they gesticulated, and the Tory indulged in a number of expressions in English that were of a vigorous nature.

Some of the Senecas sauntered over in front of the sorrowful group, and looked at them with natural curiosity. Habakkuk McEwen, on account of his fantastic dress and paint, still attracted the most notice, and some of the warriors ventured on a remark or two in their own tongue, but he made no answer, and did his utmost to maintain a dignified bearing.

"Habakkuk," said Fred Godfrey, in a low voice, "what did you mean by telling that wretch such a story?"

"Sh! keep quiet," replied McEwen, in an undertone, and without looking toward the one he was addressing; "you know it's my only chance."

There was a moment of silence, when both Fred and his father were disposed to suspect the fellow of treachery, but second thought convinced them that he meant well enough, and was only making a natural effort to gain the favor of the man who held his life in his hands.

It was in accordance with the natural instinct of the fellow, who was more than willing to resort to any artifice that promised to avert the doom hanging over his head.

It is scarcely necessary to say that he was the only one who would ask mercy at the hands of Jake Golcher, or who would pretend any sentiment other than an utter abhorrence of him.

CHAPTER XXXVII

The conference between Golcher and the chief, Gray Panther, was vigorous, even if brief. Orders of such a positive nature had been sent that it was probable neither dared disregard them.

The Seneca chief called eight of his warriors about him, said something in his guttural fashion, and then he and they disappeared in the wood.

It looked as if they had been commanded to cross the river and join the main force on the western bank in some important enterprise.

This left precisely eleven Indians, so far as could be seen, with Jake Golcher to carry out his designs. When Fred Godfrey realized the size of the force, he said in an undertone to his father:

"If we only had our guns now, we could make a good fight against them."

"But we haven't – so what's the use of talking of an impossibility?"

It was apparent to the fugitives, who were watching everything, that Golcher himself was a little uneasy over the shape matters had taken. Instead of going to where the captives were sitting on the fallen tree, he stood apart with two of the warriors, discussing something with as much earnestness as he had talked to Gray Panther.

The meaning of this was soon made plain, when he came over, and, addressing Habakkuk McEwen, said loud enough for all ears:

"We've concluded to move camp."

"What's that for?" asked the New Englander.

"None of your business," was the reply, given with equal promptness.

The anxiety of McEwen to gain the good-will of his master, however, would not permit him to hold his peace, and he hastened to interject several questions.

"I say, Jake, ain't you going to unfasten these twists of wood that are cutting my arms almost in two? I think them Injins must have took a couple of hickory saplings to bind me."

"I ain't satisfied about you, yet," said the Tory, in that hesitating manner that showed he was pretty well convinced that his prisoner, after all, was what he professed to be, although, for some reason, he chose to restrain his indorsement to him.

"Wal, you orter be," growled Habakkuk; "I'm the best Tory in the Wyoming Valley; and this is a purty way to sarve me."

The renegade smiled, as if he rather liked that kind of talk, but he did not make any move to relieve his captive of his bonds. Within the next three minutes the entire party were moving through the wood toward some point of whose locality the prisoners had no idea.

Mr. Brainerd was glad, for he was hopeful it would give Fred the desperate chance for which he was waiting. During the last few minutes the father had regained some degree of hope, and he looked to the daring young lieutenant to give a good account of himself, should any opening appear.

As for Fred, himself, he was on the alert; but it must have been that the subtle Jake Golcher suspected the truth, for he took extreme precaution.

The ladies walked in front this time, with a couple of Indians on either side, McEwen and Brainerd came next, while Fred was honored with four warriors, who were as wide-awake as cats. The one on his right and the one on his left kept a hand on his shoulder, so as to detect the first move; and, as his wrists and his elbows were securely held together, it was inevitable that the first instant he made a break, no matter how skillfully done, that instant he would be killed.

Fred could not fail to see this, and he was too wise to give any pretext for violence toward him.

"They will not keep such close watch all the way," he thought. "We have a considerable distance to walk, and I shall have the chance after a little while – hello!"

To his chagrin the halt was made at that moment.

Hardly had the shadowy figures come to a standstill, when one of the Senecas dropped on his knees and began using a flint and steel, sending out a shower of sparks like that seen from an emery-wheel. In a few seconds a bright fire was under headway.

The Indians had simply changed their quarters – that was all. The curious thing about it was, the two places were no more than a couple of hundred yards apart, and were so alike that but for the starting of the new fire, the captives would have believed they were the same.

The meaning of this movement was a mystery to those chiefly concerned, but they could do nothing less than accept it.

When the camp-fire was crackling and threw out a bright glow in every direction, the resemblance to the spot just vacated was found to be still more striking.

There was the fallen tree, upon which the companions in captivity seated themselves, looking questioningly in each others' faces, but they now heard the plash and murmur of some small waterfall, that was not in their ears a brief while before. That was about the only proof that they had really made a change of base.

Under the directions of Jake Golcher, the fuel was heaped upon the fire, so that it was practically mid-day so far as captors and captives were concerned.

Mr. Brainerd looked reproachfully at Fred and said, in a low voice:

"I didn't expect to see you here when we stopped."

"And I hoped I wouldn't be, but there has not been the ghost of a chance."

"I don't see when or where we shall get a better one; I don't propose to sit here and let them tomahawk us to death, as Queen Esther did with those poor wretches this afternoon."

"We may not be able to prevent it; but as I made an effort then, so I will this time, when worst comes to worst."

"What in the name of the seven wonders was this change made for?"

"I can scarcely form an idea, but there must have been some cause."

CHAPTER XXXVIII

For a time Jake Golcher paid no attention to the whites, but watched the Senecas, while they plied the roaring fire, as though it gave him a good deal of satisfaction.

In counting the Indians, Fred Godfrey saw that two were missing, but before he formed any guess as to the cause of their absence they reappeared, their coming announced by the terrific squealing of a young pig, that they had managed to steal somewhere.

As they entered the circle of light, they were seen to be holding a plump little porker between them, while he struggled fiercely and emitted screams like the shriek of a locomotive whistle.

It was a piece of good fortune that they were enabled to secure such a prize, when so many of the fugitives from Wyoming almost perished with hunger.

The cries of the little porker were soon hushed in death, and he was dressed with considerable skill. Conveniences not being at hand for scalding him, it became necessary to prepare him for the table without that desirable process.

When he was ready for the coals the latter were raked out, and Aunt Peggy was invited to come forward and display her skill.

"I'd like to see me cook for you scand'lous villains," she snapped out; "I would do it if I had a lot of p'ison to put in the meat, but not otherwise."

Her refusal probably would have ended in serious consequences to herself, but Mr. Brainerd and Maggie urged her to comply, all saying they were extremely hungry, and in no other way would they be able to secure any food.

In deference to their wishes she stepped forward, and, being furnished with a keen hunting-knife by one of the warriors, plied it with the skill for which she became famous years before.

The pig was in prime condition, and, if properly prepared, would have made an enjoyable delicacy for the table.

But time and circumstances did not favor elaborate cookery, and Aunt Peggy, in grim silence, cut off slices that were nicely broiled by being skewered with green sticks, and held over the glowing coals.

In a few minutes a thin steak was browned and ready for the palate.

"I'll take that, old woman," said Jake Golcher, reaching out for it.

"I'd like to see you get it," said the lady, whipping it away from him; "you good-for-nothing, scand'lous villain, don't you know that ladies orter be waited on fust?"

And with these scarifying words, she walked over to Maggie and Eva, and, cutting the steak in two, handed half to each.

"That's just what I was going to do," growled Golcher, annoyed by the broad grin that illuminated Caucasian and American faces alike.

"You know it's a falsehood," replied Aunt Peggy, in the same peppery style; "you're too mean ever to think of anything decent and Christian-like, you vagabond – oh-h-h-h, how I ache to get hold of you!"

The Tory fought rather shy of her, for in sooth she was a lady to be dreaded.

Eva Brainerd walked straight to where her father sat, and said:

"Papa, I shall not eat a mouthful until you do."

"I can't eat very conveniently with my hands tied behind me, but I shall never consent to devour that and allow you to go hungry."

"But I can get more of Aunt Peggy."

"Perhaps so and perhaps not."

"Then we will eat it between us. There, you take a bite and I will do the same, and we will keep it up until nothing is left."

"That is a good arrangement," replied her parent, smiling at the ingenuity of the affectionate child, and complying with her request.

He took a good mouthful, and she followed. Eva forced the last bit upon her father, who, in spite of himself, was compelled to eat fully two-thirds of the piece, which, after all, was the proper thing to do.

Before the feast was finished Aunt Peggy had another slice ready, which was handed over to Maggie, who walked directly to where Fred Godfrey sat on the log.

"Brother Fred, this is for you."

He consented to share it with her as their parent was doing with little Eva, and of course she complied.

While this scene was going on the Indians were lolling near at hand, smoking their pipes, and exchanging a few guttural grunts. They were all on the ground, evidently in a more patient mood than Jake Golcher, who stood a short distance back from the camp-fire, scowling and angry, that he should be compelled to stand still and see the captives fed, while he was hungry and unable to obtain a mouthful.

Even Habakkuk McEwen was not forgotten, Maggie ministering to his wants, though, of course, she did not alternate the feasting as she did with Fred. Habakkuk asked her to do so, but she refused so pointedly that he did not repeat the request.

"This is interesting," muttered the angered Tory to himself, as he looked on; "that pig belongs to us, and we've got to set back and let them rebels swaller it before our eyes. I'll be hanged if I'll stand it."

He was fast working up to a dangerous point of anger, which was not mollified when he noticed that Aunt Peggy herself now and then placed a large piece in her mouth, after which her jaws worked with great vigor.

"See here, old woman," he called out, "that pork don't belong to you, and I reckon it's about time the owner got some."

He did not approach her, but he looked as savage as a sharpened tomahawk.

Aunt Peggy made no reply and acted as though she heard him not; but, had any one noticed her closely, he would have seen her jaws working more energetically than ever, while her eyes took on a little sharper gleam than before.

She, too, was rapidly reaching an explosive mood, although the particular individual against whom she felt the rising anger failed to take warning.

"She's the worst hag I ever seen," muttered Jake, glancing askance at her, but still keeping a respectful distance.

The Senecas sat somewhat apart in the same lolling attitudes, and some of them looked as if they anticipated what was coming.

A minute later, Aunt Peggy finished another slice, which she asked Maggie to take.

"Thank you, auntie, we have enough," replied our heroine, Eva saying the same.

"I think I could eat a few pounds more," remarked Habakkuk, "but I would prefer to see Mr. Golcher get something. He is a good fellow, and orter been sarved first."

"If none of you want it, I'll eat it myself," observed the ancient maiden, who thereupon began disposing of it.

"That's gone about fur enough!" exclaimed Golcher, striding toward her; "some folks haven't got no gratertude, and I'll teach you – "

As he uttered this threat, or rather partly uttered it, he was at Aunt Peggy's elbow in a wrathful mood. All at once, she whirled about, and sprang at him like a tigress.

"You'll teach me manners, will you? There! Take that! and THAT!"

The attack was so unexpected that Golcher threw up his empty hands in a weak way, and lowered his head, closing his eyes and trying to retreat, but she had grasped his long, straggling hair, and it came out by the handfuls.

Instantly all was confusion. Mr. Brainerd laughed, and the Senecas, as they sprang to their feet, made no effort to interfere. Indeed, there was strong reason to believe they enjoyed the strange scene.

Aunt Peggy scratched and pulled with the most commendable enthusiasm, and her victim howled with pain.

"Take her off!" he shouted, "or she will kill me!"

Eva and Maggie ran forward, but the Indians actually laughed, and the two girls were unable to restrain her until she had spent her vengeance. Her victim was in a sorry plight, and in his blind retreat he tumbled backward over the log, springing instantly to his feet, and actually dashing off in the darkness.

"There!" gasped Aunt Peggy, "I've been aching to get my hands on you, and now I feel better!"

At this juncture several of the Senecas uttered excited exclamations, for the discovery was made that during the hubbub one of the prisoners had escaped, and his name was Fred Godfrey.

CHAPTER XXXIX

Aunt Peggy Carey "builded better than she knew."

In her fierce attack on the Tory she administered well-merited punishment, leaving him in a demoralized condition, so thoroughly whipped, indeed, that for several minutes he was dazed and not himself.

Her friends trembled to think of the vengeance he would visit upon her for the act, but the good lady herself seemed to have no apprehensions, and, turning about, she carefully arranged her hair and bonnet, and resumed cooking slices from the carcass of the pig, intending now to wait upon the Senecas, who had been kind enough not to interfere while she attended to the other important duty.

What the next step would have been was hard to guess, but for the sudden discovery which we have made known.

One of the captives was found to be missing, and he was the most important of all, being no less a personage than Lieutenant Fred Godfrey.

The instant Aunt Peggy assailed Golcher the youth saw that the opportunity for which he was waiting had come, and he took advantage of it.

The uproar for the moment was great. The captives on the log sprang to their feet, and the Senecas fixed their attention on the couple, seeing which, Mr. Brainerd said to his son:

"Now's your time, Fred!"

He turned as he spoke, and saw the lieutenant vanishing like a shot in the gloom. When the warriors noted his absence, he was at a safe distance in the wood.

Fully a half-dozen Senecas sprang off in the darkness, using every effort to recapture the prisoner, who could be at no great distance, no matter how fast he had traveled.

Had Fred given away to the excitement of the occasion, and lost that coolness that had stood him so well more than once on that dreadful afternoon and evening, he hardly would have escaped recapture before he went a hundred yards; for the Iroquois were so accustomed to the ways of the woods, they would have seized such advantage and come upon him while he was in the immediate neighborhood.

They believed he would continue running and stumbling in the darkness, and thus betray his whereabouts.

And that is precisely what Fred Godfrey did not do.

He ran with all speed through the woods, tripping and picking himself up, and struggling forward, until he was far beyond the reach of the light of the camp-fire, when all at once he caught the signal whoops of the Indians, and he knew they were after him.

Then, instead of keeping on in his flight, he straightened up and stepped along with extreme caution, literally feeling every foot of the way.

Thus it was he avoided betraying his situation to the cunning warriors, who, in their apparently aimless pursuit, used their ears, and indeed every sense at their command.

It was because Fred himself did the same that he eluded those on his track. Listening, he heard the approach of one of the Iroquois. Instead of hurrying away he stopped, and backing against a tree, stood as motionless as the trunk itself.

The dense summer vegetation overhead prevented a single beam of moonlight reaching him, so that he was secure from observation, so long as he retained his self-possession and made no blunder.

His nerves were under a fearful strain within the next three minutes, for, as if guided by fate, not one but two of the Senecas dashed through the wood, and instead of going by, halted not more than six feet from where he stood.

Why they should have stopped thus was more than he could conjecture, unless they really knew where he was and were sure they could place their hands on him when they wished.

It was hard to understand how this could be, and Fred refused to believe it, though the actions of the Indians were certainly remarkable.

What more trying situation could there be? It was like some nightmare in which the victim sees the foe swiftly approaching and is without the power to move so much as a finger.

But Fred did not lose heart. If they had learned where he was, he meant to use his feet and not to yield so long as he could resist.

He tugged at his bonds, but they were fastened so securely that he could not start them. To loosen them so as to free his hands must necessarily be the work of some time, and he knew how it could be done, when he should be free of his enemies.

But the bonds, when two of the Senecas were at his elbow, were torture, and but for his strength of will he could not have avoided an outcry.

Fortunately, the suspense lasted but a few minutes. The Indians stood silent as if listening, and during that ordeal Fred scarcely drew his breath.

Then they exchanged some words in the gruff, exclamatory style peculiar to the red men, and again they paused and listened.

The other pursuers could be heard at different points, for most of them uttered several cautions but well-understood signals, some of which were answered by the two at Fred's elbow.

"Why should they stop here," thought he, "when they have every reason to think I am threshing through the wood and getting farther away each minute?"

Just then they began moving off, and immediately after, he caught the dim outlines of their figures as they crossed an open space and vanished in the woods beyond.

Fred Godfrey did not stir for several minutes, but at the end of that time he became satisfied that his whereabouts were unknown to the Senecas ranging through the wilderness in search of him, and he ventured to leave the tree.

CHAPTER XL

For a single minute Mr. Brainerd was on the point of following in the footsteps of Fred, and making a break for freedom: that was at the height of the general confusion, when the majority of the Indians started in pursuit.

Possibly such a prompt course might have succeeded, but he allowed the critical moment to pass, through fear that some additional cruelty would be visited on the heads of those whom he left behind.