Wyoming

"Why, Habakkuk," said Godfrey in return; "why, are you in such a hurry that you can't stop?"

"Well, well, well," muttered the terrified New Englander, recognizing his friend; "I was on my way to Stroudsburg, and didn't expect to meet you here, leftenant; what's up?"

"What has caused you to take such a sudden start?"

"I got the chance and I took it; I thought, from the rate I was going, that I ought to be pretty well nigh there by this time."

"The journey is still before you; but, when I left the vicinity of the camp, you were a prisoner."

Habakkuk was loath to explain the strange cause of his presence in the woods, but, finding he was among friends, he finally told the story.

His listeners of course were astonished, for it seemed incredible that Jake Golcher should do anything of the kind.

"Since he sent you out to take me back," said Lieutenant Godfrey, "you must keep your word and produce me before him."

"But, leftenant, such a pledge ain't binding on one, is it?"

"It is when I help you carry it out, and that is precisely what I will do."

The New Englander was amazed, as well he might be, and Fred, not wishing to trifle with the poor fellow, who had been so buffeted by good and ill fortune during the day, explained how the plan could be executed without risk to him.

It cannot be said that Habakkuk took kindly to the project, even then, but in the presence of Durkee and his woodmen, he could not well refuse.

He was assured that he would be well taken care of, and, as time was valuable, the company started without delay.

Where every one understood the necessity of silence, they moved along like so many phantoms.

Gravity Gimp's knowledge was so thorough, that even in the gloom, relieved only now and then by a few beams of moonlight, he recognized the landmarks, and gave great help to Godfrey, who more than once was at fault.

After progressing in this labored manner for some distance they came upon a well-beaten path, where it was much easier to travel than in the unbroken wood.

They had not far to go, and were beginning to slacken their speed, when all were startled by hearing some one approaching from the front. Each man noiselessly stepped out of the path, and, with their guns grasped, awaited the issue.

The first supposition was that they were Indians, and, excepting through fear of complicating matters in camp, the strangers would have been assailed at once.

But at the very moment the two forms, as they proved to be, were immediately opposite, one of them was heard to speak:

"By gracious! Jim, this is the most dangerous latitude I ever was in."

This expression identified them, and Fred spoke in a guarded voice:

"Hold on, friends; don't be alarmed."

Naturally the strangers were frightened, and showed a disposition to break into headlong flight, but Durkee and his comrades quickly stepped into the path and surrounded them.

By the time this was done, the couple realized they were among friends, and they made themselves known.

They were two men who were in the Wilkesbarre Fort during the battle and massacre of the afternoon, and they had come up the eastern shore of the river to learn whether they could be of any help to the numerous fugitives at Wyoming.

They soon found it was too late to do much good, but they lingered in the vicinity and exchanged shots with several parties of Tories and Indians.

They prowled around after dark, when they saw matters going so ill that they concluded there would be no safety in returning to Wilkesbarre, where a panic had probably set in. They were now on their way to Stroudsburg, which was a haven of hope to so many fugitives in that flaming day and the following one.

They gladly agreed to join the rescuers, and, as each had a good rifle and ammunition, they were a most desirable re-enforcement.

CHAPTER XLIX

By this time the short July night was drawing to a close, and there were signs of the coming dawn in the east. All through the solemn darkness the massacre had continued, and scenes were enacted on both sides of the Susquehanna which the pen has never placed on paper, and which to-day come down to us only in the shuddering legends of those who looked upon and survived to tell of them.

Among the miscreants none was more inhuman than Jake Golcher, the Tory. But for his strong admiration of the pretty Maggie Brainerd not one of the little party of fugitives would have survived capture for fifteen minutes.

He was not the first, as he shall not be the last, bad man who has been restrained from evil by the sweet beauty of some maiden who, unconsciously to herself, has woven her subtle web around him.

Had she walked up to him and promised to be his wife on condition that every one of her friends should be released, he would have complied, though he might have resorted to treachery afterward to gratify the demand for revenge on the part of his Indian allies.

But the father of Maggie had repudiated his claim, and the point at last was reached when he was forced to see that every one of the fugitives, including Maggie herself, looked upon him with unspeakable loathing, and they would die before humbling themselves to him.

"What's the sense of my fooling longer?" he growled, standing sullenly apart and glowering upon them; "they hate me worse than Satan himself, and if Maggie should pledge me her hand, that old father or the brother of her'n wouldn't let her keep her promise. The Injins have got so mad at my soft-heartedness that they begin to 'spect me, and they've gone over to t' other side the river to have their fun there, 'cause there ain't much prospect of gettin' it here."

The renegade spoke a significant truth, and, looking around, he was able to count precisely six Senecas who remained with him. Some of the others who were out hunting in the wood might return, but the chances were against it, and more than likely they had gone off to join in the orgies of which we only dare hint.

Striding across the brief space, Jake Golcher paused in front of Maggie Brainerd and said:

"You have had more mercy to-night than you had a right to expect, and more than you'll get any longer."

"Why do you talk to me thus?" asked the scared maiden, who could not fail to understand what he meant; "why do you feel such hatred of us who have never showed aught but kindness to you?"

"Bah!" interrupted the Tory, angrily; "why do you get over that stuff to me? I want no more of it. The time for begging mercy has gone by. If you had treated me right a while ago it would have been well – "

"Oh, Jake, how can you?"

The agonized girl was about to rush forward and throw herself on her knees before the man, when her father, with flashing eye, interposed.

"Maggie, I forbid you to speak a word to such a scoundrel as he. Sit down and keep silence."

The obedient girl complied, as she would have done had she known that death was to be the penalty.

She placed herself beside Eva, and the two, wrapping their arms about each other, wept in silence.

Aunt Peggy, as if conscious the crisis had come, ceased her cooking and softly seated herself beside them, without a word.

Mr. Brainerd, proud and defiant as ever, sat bolt upright on the fallen tree, with arms folded, looking as keenly as an eagle in the face of the being whom he execrated above any of his kind.

The Senecas watched them all, and it was easy to detect the signs of impatience among them, for they had been baffled too long of their prey.

As Jake Golcher retreated a step or two the Indians uttered a short exclamation of surprise, as well they might, for two figures strode for-toward out of the gloom in the light of the camp-fire.

One of them was Habakkuk McEwen, who led by the arm Lieutenant Fred Godfrey, the latter stepping briskly, while a strange half-smile hovered about his handsome mouth.

Mr. Brainerd and the rest of the fugitives were thunderstruck, and totally at a loss to understand the meaning of the spectacle.

Fortunately, they were not kept long in suspense.

The face of Habakkuk was wreathed in an all-embracing smile, though there was a certain delicacy in his position that prevented his smile becoming contagious.

"Well, Jake, I've brought you your man!" called out Habakkuk, in a voice tremulous with triumph and fear.

"You have done well," replied Golcher, as soon as he could recover his breath; "you have done better than I expected."

"It's all right now, then, ain't it – that is, with me?"

"Certainly; you've earned your freedom and can go. These Injins won't hurt you."

Golcher made a wave of his hand to the warriors grouped around and uttered an exclamation that insured immunity to the eccentric New Englander.

The latter wheeled about and walked straight toward the woods where his friends were awaiting him.

One of the most difficult things for a brave man to do is to stride deliberately off, without decreasing or augmenting his gait, when he has every reason to believe that someone is taking careful aim at him, and that if he doesn't get beyond range in a brief while he is certain to be punctured.

The expectation of receiving a bullet from the rear will make the chills creep over the most courageous person, and give an impetus to his gait like the actual prick of a bayonet.

Habakkuk McEwen walked only a dozen steps when he was so impressed by the situation, that he forgot his identity. With a howl he sprang several feet from the ground and dashed off at the top of his speed into the woods, muttering:

"I'll be hanged if I can stand it; I believe every Injin squattin' there was taking aim at me."

Fred Godfrey and Jake Golcher at last stood face to face, and by the light of the camp-fire looked steadily in the eyes of each other.

"I'm here," said the lieutenant, in his ordinary voice, though he carefully measured his words: "Habakkuk McEwen has kept his pledge, and now I'd like to know what you are going to do about it."

"You would like to know, eh? Wal, I can soon tell you. I'm going to turn you over to these Senecas you see around you; one of them is throwing wood on the fire now; that's for you. More than one rebel has been roasted, and you are none too good to be served the same way."

"So you intend to burn me to death, Jacob, do you?"

"Intend to! I'm going to do so, sartin sure – that is, I'm going to boss the job, but I've promised to let the redskins have the fun of the thing."

"That's the idea, is it? And after I'm disposed of, what then? That is, what is to be done with my friends there?"

"I've no 'bjection to saying," replied the Tory, speaking loud enough for all to hear, "that the old fellow there and that she panther, Aunt Peggy, will be served the same way. The two girls will be taken back to York State with us, and sort of adopted by the Senecas."

All the individuals referred to heard these words, but no one moved or stirred. It may truthfully be said that they were so overcome for the moment that they were speechless.

"That's an imposing programme, Jacob, but, somehow or other, I think there will be a hitch in carrying it out."

"You think so, eh? Wal, you'll see mighty soon that there ain't no mistake about it. The fire is burning and about ready – "

"Jacob," said Fred Godfrey in a low voice, but with such significance that the Tory was transfixed, "I hoped that you would say and do something that would give me excuse for believing you less a miscreant than you are, but you have persisted in shutting out all merciful thoughts – "

"Wh-wh-what d-d-do you m-mean?" stammered Golcher, beginning to feel a giving away in his knees.

"Do you suppose I was such a fool as to allow Habakkuk McEwen, one of my best friends, to bring me back a prisoner to you? You showed your idiocy in sending him out for me; but it is scarcely credible that you could really think he would ever show himself again. But he has, and here I am —

"And now, Jacob, I have the pleasure of informing you that you are at my mercy, and I have only to raise my hand – so – to have you riddled with bullets."

CHAPTER L

As Lieutenant Fred Godfrey slowly raised his hand, as if it were the signal for his friends to open fire, Jake Golcher collapsed.

Sinking down on the ground, as limp as a rag, he began begging in the most pitiful tones for his life. Indeed, he groveled so in the dirt that all the whites who looked upon him found their feelings of hatred turning to disgust and pity.

Fred Godfrey was disappointed, and, stepping back a pace or two, gazed on the miserable craven as he would upon a dog he had caught stealing sheep, and which was then cringing at his feet.

Instead of waiting until the patriot had proven the truth of his declaration, the renegade succumbed at once. It is hard to kick the wretch who clasps your knees, and the lieutenant, who was determined to rid the world of the man as soon as he had made the declaration of his purposes respecting the captives, found his resentment gone.

Mr. Brainerd, with an expression of scorn, sprang up from the log and strode over to his son.

"In Heaven's name, let him go, Fred! Kick him out of sight, for he hasn't the manhood to stand up and be shot like a man."

"Get up!" commanded Fred, catching him by the collar of his coat, and jerking him to his feet: "I want to speak to you."

But Golcher was no sooner on his feet than he went to pieces again, groaning and whining, and begging for that mercy that he had so often denied to others.

Again the lieutenant yanked him to the upright position, and, finding him collapsed as before, he cuffed his ears until they tingled, shouting:

"Stand up, or you're a dead man!"

Finally, after wabbling about several minutes, Golcher summoned enough strength to keep his feet, though in a shaky condition; and finding he was not to be executed immediately, he managed to grasp the situation.

"I was going to say – What do you mean, Gravity?"

This sudden question was caused by Gimp, the African, who, with a chuckle, ran forward from the darkness that was beginning to give away before the approach of day, and, jamming his head down in the ground between Godfrey and Golcher, threw his huge feet in the air, and began kicking with such recklessness that one of them struck the lieutenant in the breast, nearly knocking him over, while the other sent the Tory recoiling some distance.

"Can't help it!" exclaimed the happy African; "Jake Golcher's s'prise party dat was to hab arriv, hab arroven, and me and Aunt Peggy feels like standin' on our heads, and kickin' de limbs off de trees."

Gravity used his feet rather too vigorously, and, swaying beyond the point of nature's gravity, came down on his back with a resounding thump; but he did not mind it, and leaping up, ran to the fallen tree, where he sat down among his friends with the most extravagant manifestations of joy.

It is not to be supposed that the six Senecas remained idle spectators of this extraordinary scene. They were quick to comprehend what it meant, and had they but maintained guard for the preceding hour or two with their usual care the surprise could not have been effected.

But, if any warriors could feel warranted in believing themselves beyond danger of molestation from white men, it was those Indians who took part in the Wyoming massacre.

When they grasped their guns and glanced around, their eyes encountered a strange sight. It seemed as if a score of men had sprung from the ground like so many visions of the night, and every one of the Iroquois who used his eyes saw a gun leveled at him.

Had the scene occurred in Texas to-day, it would have been said that Dick Durkee and his foresters "had the drop" on the Tory and his Iroquois.

The latter saw they were caught, and they preserved a masterly inactivity, pending the negotiations between the two parties.

There was a threatened complication that might turn the tables again, and this time against the patriots. Some of the Senecas were absent and were likely to come back. Gray Panther might be among them, and in such an event the whites were likely to find themselves between two fires.

"You poor fool," said Fred, when Golcher got into such shape that he could understand what was said to him; "stand up like a man, or I'll shoot you!"

"Yes – yes – yes, I – w-w-wi-ll; what do you want?"

"I want to make an agreement with you, and it's got to be done mighty quick or not at all."

Thereupon the Tory straightened up wonderfully; but, happening to look about him and to catch sight of the patriots standing, as it seemed everywhere, with their guns leveled, he was seized with another fit of shivering, and it was some time before he could compose himself.

"You see," said the lieutenant, "that you are at my mercy, and I'll treat you better than you deserve. I have but to give the signal, as I told you a minute ago, and ten seconds from now there wouldn't be a Tory or red Indian standing alive in this camp. Every one of you is covered, but I'll agree to let you and them withdraw, on condition that you do so without a second's delay."

"I'll do it – I'll do it!" gasped Golcher; "I'll give you an escort to Stroudsburg, or anywhere you want to go."

"I rather think you won't," was the reply of Godfrey. "You have escorted us altogether too much as it is. Thank Heaven, we are in shape to take care of ourselves now."

"Wal, I'm ready to do whatever you want; fact is, leftenant, I never meant one-half I said about you, and I ain't half as mean as – "

"Not another word!" commanded Fred. "We'll attend to business now."

CHAPTER LI

Lieutenant Fred Godfrey expected such a reception from Jake Golcher as would give him a suitable excuse for opening fire on the Tory and the Senecas, but the panic of the leader disarmed his enmity, and really forced the arrangement that was now carried out; one that, it may be said, was intensely disagreeable to Dick Durkee and his comrades, who were unwilling to spare such miscreants.

But the lieutenant was the commander, and there was no rebellion against his orders.

"Bring your warriors up here," ordered Fred, and Golcher made a sign for the Senecas to approach.

They moved forward a few paces, but, mistrusting the purposes of the patriots, refused to come further. Golcher berated, and ordered them to advance, telling them – what they already knew – they were covered by the guns of the whites.

But they stood sullenly apart, and began moving in the direction of the river.

At this moment Dick Durkee called out:

"Lieutenant, shall we fire? We've got every wretch of 'em fast."

"Keep them covered, but don't shoot unless they raise their guns," called Fred, who was embarrassed by the unexpected turn.

"May I go with 'em?" asked Jake Golcher, in a cringing voice, beginning to back away from his dreaded master.

"Yes, go; and I pray Heaven none of us may ever look on your face again."

Fred should have been prepared for what followed, inasmuch as no one understood the treacherous nature of Tory and Indian better than he, but, as we have intimated, he was confronted by an unexpected condition of affairs, and was caught off his guard, so to speak.

He saw the warriors withdrawing, and already entering the wood on his left, while he stood in the full light of the camp-fire, calmly watching the movement.

"Fred, move away from there," called out his father; "you are too good a mark for them."

Fortunately, the young man stepped back and to one side, placing himself near Dick Durkee, who stood with cocked rifle, fairly quivering with rage, because he was forced to hold his fire.

Fred himself had his pistol at command, but he was without any rifle, having handed his over to one of his friends, when he went forward with Habakkuk McEwen.

The Indians were in the fringe of the wood, when all the former prisoners, who were sitting on the fallen tree, sprang up, and began moving away.

At this juncture one of Durkee's men shouted:

"Look out! They're going to shoot!"

The words were yet in his mouth, when Jake Golcher, with unparalleled treachery, raised the gun that he had caught from one of the Senecas, and aimed directly at Maggie Brainerd.

His position was such that only her father understood his purpose, and he sprang forward to shield his daughter, throwing himself before her at the very moment the Tory discharged his gun.

With a groan of pain, the brave parent staggered a few steps and fell heavily to the ground.

"Just as I expected," exclaimed Dick Durkee. "Give it to 'em, boys! Don't spare one!"

With incredible celerity the Iroquois fired their guns almost simultaneously with the Tory, and then darted off like so many shadows through the wood, the dim morning light being insufficient to betray them in the thick undergrowth.

But Dick Durkee and his men returned the volley instantly, and sprang after them.

Fred Godfrey had not noticed the fall of his father, but, with his whole soul aflame at the outrage, he dashed toward the wretches, pistol in hand, determined to wreak vengeance on the party, who, he well knew, were inspired to the deed by Golcher himself.

On the edge of the wood, where the Senecas had stood for a single moment when they fired their guns, two of their number were stretched lifeless, proving that the return volley had done some execution.

The settlers charged through the undergrowth without any regard to order and the peril into which they might precipitate themselves.

Had Gray Panther and his warriors appeared on the ground at that crisis, in all probability he would have drawn the entire party into ambush, and cut them off to a man.

But the fleeing force was too small to attempt a stand, or any such tactics, and they devoted themselves entirely to getting away.

They were more expert in this than their pursuers, and scattering – as is the custom of the red men to this day, when closely pressed – each used all his energy and cunning in flight.

Dick Durkee and his men, including Fred Godfrey, went crashing and tearing ahead, glaring in front and to the right and left in quest of a target, but finding none, until, when the blind pursuit had lasted fifteen minutes or more, it dawned on those concerned that it was idle to attempt anything more.

Then they stopped for breath, and, turning about, began straggling back toward camp.

Fred Godfrey would have been the last to rejoin his friends had he not been seized with a dread that something might go wrong with those who were left defenseless.

He therefore hastened, and in the gray light of the morning came upon a scene of sadness.

Richard Brainerd, his step-father, lay on his back, with his head in the lap of Maggie, while Eva was weeping over him, and Aunt Peggy was standing beside them, her face streaming with tears.

Gravity Gimp was rolling on the ground in an agony of sorrow, for he saw what was apparent to the young man – the loved father and master was dying.

Fred knelt by his side, and taking a whisky flask from the rough but kind-hearted Dick Durkee, pressed it to the white lips of the sufferer.

"It's no use, Fred," said he, with a sad smile; "I'm done for. Jake Golcher fired that shot, but he meant it for Maggie, and not for me. I'm close to death."

"I hope it isn't as bad as that," said Fred, through his tears, his manner showing he could not believe his own words.

"It's as well that I should go," said the old man, rallying slightly; "and I'm thankful that the rest of you escaped. Good-bye, Fred."

The youth took the hand that was already growing clammy and limp, and, returning the pressure, could only murmur:

"Good-bye, good bye; would that it had been I, rather than such a noble father as you have always been to me."

Gravity Gimp, rousing to a sense of the situation, rushed forward with irrestrainable grief, and shook the hand of his master, bending over and kissing his forehead.

Aunt Peggy did the same, and then came the last, sad parting scene between the father and his loved daughters.

The murmured words were heard only by Maggie and Eva, who treasured them up in after-years as the most precious mementos of their lives.

When the mild, loving eyes of the parent gradually grew dim, they rested upon the tearful faces of the two girls; and, as he entered the land of shadows, his last memory of the world he left behind was illumined by those two yearning countenances, whose kisses were pressed upon his lips. And the dark angel, reaching out his hand, took that of the patriot, and led him through the shadowy valley into the bright realms beyond.