At War with Pontiac; Or, The Totem of the Bear: A Tale of Redcoat and Redskin

The projector of this entertainment was enthusiastic and confident. "Tummas," who was an interested listener to all that was said, chuckled audibly, as he reflected upon the dismay of the savages, and even Donald looked forward to the experiment with interest.

Alas! that such well-laid plans should be doomed to failure; but such was the lamentable fact. When, soon after landing, the paymaster called for boiling water, the Indians watched him swallow his effervescing mixture with unmoved faces. When he hurled a ball of clay, charged with fulminating powder, at a tree, missed his mark, and caused the missile to fall harmlessly in the water, they gazed at him pityingly. When, an hour later, he strolled over to their camp-fire and carelessly tossed what appeared to be a stone into it, they drew back a few paces, watched the play of colored flames that followed, with interest, and were not at all disturbed by the small explosion that took place a minute afterwards. To crown all, when their attention was attracted to a flaming face swinging in the darkness above their heads, the Zebra deliberately raised his gun and blew the bit of bark to atoms, with the point-blank discharge of a load of buckshot. Then the Indians calmly resumed their positions and their pipes, while the crestfallen author of this signal failure, unable to find words to express his feelings, sullenly retired to the canoe and rolled himself in a blanket.

The next morning, as Donald emerged from his plunge in the lake, he detected one of the Indians crouching beside the canoe, and evidently tampering with its bark covering. Naked as he was, the young fellow bounded to the spot and, ere the Indian was aware of his presence, knocked him sprawling with a single blow. Like a panther the savage sprang to his feet, and, knife in hand, rushed at his assailant. Suddenly he paused, his outstretched arm fell to his side, and he stood like one petrified, with his eyes fixed on Donald. Then, in excellent English, he said slowly:—

"Why did not Quickeye tell his red brother that he was of the Totem of the Bear and of the magic circle of the Metai?"

As he spoke, the Indian pointed to the rude device that, tattooed in blue lines, had ornamented Donald Hester's left arm, just below the shoulder, ever since he was an infant.

Instead of answering this question, the young man replied scornfully:—

"So you can speak English, can you, you red scoundrel? And you call me 'Quickeye' because I caught you peering from the bushes at the Devil's Hole, do you? Yes, I am quick-eyed enough to read every thought in your black heart. Do I not know that you came in the canoe with the white medicine man from Oswego? Do I not know that you listened outside the open window of the mess-room at Fort Niagara, while the white chiefs talked at night? Do I not know that you painted your face, with the thought that the white man was a fool and would no longer recognize you? Then you came in this canoe that you might make it go slow, like a swan whose wing is broken by the hunter. Do not I know all this as well as all the things you have done, and thought of doing? You are a fool! The Metai know everything. Bah! If I had not use for you, I would strike you dead. But I need your strength, and so long as you serve me truly you shall live. Go, and be ready to start ere the sun rises from yonder water."

With this the young man turned on his heel, while the humbled savage slunk away, cringing as though he had felt the lashing of whips. From that moment there was no further trouble, and the canoe of the white men was sped on its journey at a pace to satisfy even their impatience.

CHAPTER XVII

A BRAVE GIRL CAPTIVE

For two weeks after leaving the Niagara river Cuyler's boat brigade made its way slowly but steadily westward, along the northern, forest-covered shore of Lake Erie. Except for an occasional day of rain, when the expedition remained comfortably in camp, the weather was perfect, and nothing occurred to disturb the peace or enjoyment of the long voyage. Its only drawback lay in the monotony of water and forest, unrelieved by a sign of human presence, that constantly surrounded them.

As one of the last days of May drew toward its perfect close, two of the occupants of the leading boat reclined beneath a small awning and watched in silence the western splendor of the waning day,—that wonderful spectacle which is never twice the same and whose incomparable glories never grow stale by repetition. The elder of the two was Madam Rothsay, whose placid face indexed the kindly nature that could not refuse the pleadings of a loved one, even when they were for the undertaking of so wild an expedition as the present.

"Is it not exquisite, aunty?" finally exclaimed the younger of the two, a girl of eighteen, whose blue eyes and fair hair were strikingly contrasted with the warm tintings of a face on which sun and wind had plied their magic arts for many days.

"Yes, dear, it is indeed exquisite, and so wonderfully peaceful," replied Madam Rothsay.

"That is the one thing I object to," laughed the girl. "It is all so stupidly peaceful that I am getting tired of it, and long for a bit of excitement."

"But my dear Edith, if Sir Jeffry had not assured me that every portion of this journey might be made through a country that was perfectly peaceful, I should have never consented to undertake it. Besides, I thought you were quite tired of the excitements and gayety of New York. You certainly said so."

"Yes, so I was. That is, I was so tired of the stupid men one had so constantly to meet that I longed to get away to some place where they would not dare follow."

"I agree with you, my dear, that most of them were very stupid. There was Ensign Christie, for instance, who—"

"Now, aunty! you know I didn't mean him, or the men like him, who had done splendid things, and were just aching for a chance to do more. Besides, I am sure that if Mr. Christie had been possessed of the slightest desire to follow us, we could not have found any place in all the world where he would not dare venture. I meant such creatures as that absurd little paymaster, who talked about a stupid tub he had invented, until I couldn't help asking him why he didn't follow the example of the three wise men of Gotham and sail away in it."

"What did he answer?"

"Said he believed his old tub was quite seaworthy, and that he should be perfectly willing to undertake a voyage in it, provided it would lead him to me. Oh, he was so silly, and so pompous, and so conceited, and so spick and span! He is the most immaculate creature you ever saw, and was great fun for a while. Then he got to be such a desperate bore that I simply couldn't endure him any longer; and so, here we are."

"But I thought your sole reason for wanting to come out here was to see your father and Donald, and give them a joyful surprise."

"Of course, you dear goosey, that was the most chiefest of my reasons, as Willy Shakespeare would say, and I do so long to see them that it seems as though I couldn't wait until to-morrow evening. You said we would be there by this time to-morrow, you remember, Mr. Cuyler, and a promise is a promise, you know."

"I did say so, Miss Edith, and I think I may safely repeat my promise, provided we make camp a little later than usual this evening, and get started again by daylight to-morrow morning," answered the middle-aged lieutenant, who sat just back of the ladies and steered the boat. "Yon far-reaching land," he continued, "is Point Pelee, and from there the fort is only about twenty-five miles away."

"Then to-night's camp is to be our last," reflected Edith, soberly. "Well, I must confess that for some reasons I am sorry. I have so enjoyed the glorious camp-fires, and the singing, and the stories, and the stars, and the ripple of the water on the beach, and the sweet-scented balsam beds, and everything; haven't you, aunty?"

"Yes, dear. I suppose I have," replied Madam Rothsay. "But I am not sure that I shall not enjoy quite as much a substantial roof over my head, sitting at a regularly appointed table, and sleeping between sheets once more; for I take it such things are to be had, even in Detroit, are they not, Mr. Cuyler?"

"Yes, indeed, madam," replied the lieutenant. "You will find there all the necessities, as well as many of the luxuries of civilization; for Detroit is quite a metropolis, I assure you."

"Just fancy!" exclaimed Edith, "a metropolis buried a month deep in the wilderness. And I suppose the officers get up dances and receptions and excursions and boating parties, or something of that kind, very often?"

"All the time; and if they are not enjoying some of those things at this very minute, it is only because they await your coming to crown their festivities with completeness."

"Nonsense! They don't know we are coming."

"I beg your pardon, but Major Gladwyn was notified some months ago that he might expect the arrival of this expedition some time about the first of June."

"The expedition, yes; but us, no. We are to appear as a delightful surprise, you know. Oh dear! what fun it will be! By the way, Mr. Cuyler, are there many pretty girls in this forest metropolis?"

"I believe some of the native young ladies, both French and Indian, are considered quite attractive," replied the lieutenant, evasively.

"Oh, squaws! But they don't count, you know. I mean English or American girls."

"Do you make a distinction between the two?"

"Certainly. Aunty, here, is English, and I am American. Don't you notice a difference between us?" answered Miss Audacity, saucily.

"I can only note that each is more charming in her own way than the other," replied the lieutenant, gallantly.

Conversation was interrupted at this moment by the appearance of a beach suitable for a landing, and the heading of the boat toward it. A minute later it was run ashore, and the ladies were helped carefully out, while the remaining bateaux were beached on either side in quick succession.

A scene of orderly confusion immediately followed, as camp equipage of every description was taken from the boats and carried to the place where axemen were already at work clearing away underbrush or cutting wood for the fires. Every one was in the highest of spirits, and the gloomy forest rang with shouts and laughter; for was not this the last camp? and would not the morrow witness the completion of their arduous journey?

While their own little tent was being erected, the ladies, according to their custom, sought relief from the cramped positions and long confinement of the boat in a brisk walk up the beach. The darkening shadows warned them not to go as far as usual, and at the end of a few hundred yards they turned to retrace their steps.

Suddenly, without the warning of a sound to indicate a human presence, they were surrounded by half a dozen dusky forms, that seemed to spring from the very earth, their half-uttered cries were smothered by rude hands clapped over their mouths, and before they realized what had happened they were being hurried at a breathless pace through the blackness of the forest.

They were not taken far, but on the edge of a small glade, or natural opening, were allowed to sink at the foot of two trees, standing a yard or so apart. To these they were securely bound, and then, as mysteriously as they had appeared, their captors left them. So far as the terrified women could judge from the evidence of their senses, the forest was unpeopled save by themselves, though from the lake shore they could still hear the cheerful shouts of those engaged in preparing Cuyler's camp.

"Oh, my dear child! my poor dear child!" moaned the elder woman; "what does it all mean? Oh, it is too terrible! Too awful!"

"Hush, aunty," answered the girl. "We are in the hands of the savages, and God alone knows what our fate is to be. At any rate, we must keep clear-headed, and not give way to our feelings. I am thinking of those poor, unsuspecting men. If we could only warn them, they might be able to defend themselves, and possibly help us afterwards. Don't you think if we should both scream together that they would hear us?"

"Edith, child! are you crazy? We should be instantly killed. Not a sound, as you value your life!"

"I must, aunty. I should be ashamed to live if I failed to do the one thing of which I am capable."

With this the brave girl lifted her voice in a shrill cry for help, that echoed far and wide through the dim aisles of the forest; but it was too late, for at the same moment there came a crashing volley, mingled with savage yells, that announced an attack on the devoted camp.

CHAPTER XVIII

SURPRISE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE BOAT BRIGADE

For many days had the scouts of Pontiac watched from the shore the boat brigade as it made its slow way toward Detroit. Night after night had they hovered about its camps, peering with greedy eyes from darkest shadows at the coveted wealth which the redcoats, ignorant of the presence of danger, so carelessly guarded. It was well to let the white men have the toil of bringing it as near the Indian villages as possible, and so an attack was not ordered until the very last night. Then the two hundred Wyandot warriors, detailed for the purpose, watched the boats until a landing was effected, silently surrounded the camp while everything was in confusion, and at a signal poured in their deadly fire.

To Cuyler's men this volley was as a thunderbolt from a clear sky. Never was a surprise more complete; never was overwhelming disaster more sudden. They were paralyzed and unnerved. A score fell at the first fire, and though Cuyler succeeded in forming the rest in an irregular semicircle about the boats, their return shots were so wildly scattering and ineffective that the enemy were emboldened to abandon their usual tactics, break from cover in a body, and rush fiercely upon the wavering line of panic-stricken soldiers. Most of these now saw Indians for the first time. None waited for a second glance, but flinging away their muskets, all ran madly for the boats.

Of these they succeeded in launching five, which were instantly filled beyond their capacity. So ill-directed were their efforts to escape, that the Indians, by setting two more boats afloat and starting in pursuit, easily overtook three of the fugitive craft, which surrendered to them without resistance. The remaining two, by hoisting sail and taking advantage of an off-shore breeze, made good their escape and were headed in the direction of Sandusky on the opposite side of the lake. In one of these was the commander of the ill-fated expedition, who had been the last man to leave the beach.

Wild with joy over a victory so easily gained and so rich in results, the Indians, after securing their prisoners, lighted great fires, and, gathered about these, abandoned themselves to feasting and drinking. Among the captured supplies was a quantity of liquor, upon which they pounced with avidity. Heads of kegs were broken in, and the fiery stuff was recklessly quaffed from cups, vessels of birch bark, or anything that would hold it; some even scooping it up in their hands, until all became filled with the madness of demons. They danced, yelled, waved aloft their bloody scalps, and fought like wild beasts, while the trembling captives, crouching in scattered groups, seemed to hear their own death knell in every whoop.

One such scene of hideous revelry was enacted in the little glade beside which Madam Rothsay and Edith Hester had been left helplessly bound by their captors. From the moment of the girl's brave effort to warn the camp, these two had listened with straining ears to the babel of sounds by which the whole course of the tragedy was made plain to them. They shuddered at the volleys, at the screams of the wounded, and at the triumphant yells of the victors. They almost forgot their own wretched position in their horror at the fate of their recent companions. But when all was over, and the hideous revelry of the savages was begun within their sight, a realization of their own misery returned with overwhelming force, and they again trembled at the possibilities of their fate. A number of squaws had accompanied this war party, and they could see these busily engaged securing and concealing what weapons they could find at the very beginning of the debauch.

"Even those creatures realize the dreadful things that are likely to happen, and are taking what precautions they may to guard against them," moaned Madam Rothsay.

"Yes," replied Edith, "and now, if ever, is our time to escape. Oh, if we were not so helplessly bound and could slip away into the woods! I would rather die in an effort to escape than suffer the agony of this suspense. Can't you loosen your arms one little bit, aunty?"

As the girl spoke she strained at her own bonds until they sunk deep into her tender flesh, but without loosening them in the slightest.

The elder woman also struggled for a moment with all her strength, and then sank back with a groan.

"I can't, Edith! It's no use, and only hurts. No, we can do nothing save commend ourselves to God and trust to his mercy. Oh, my poor child! My poor dear child!"

The fires blazed higher, the maddening liquor flowed like water, the yells grew fiercer, and the dancing more furious. The lurid scene became a very pandemonium, and the leaping forms of the savages seemed those of so many devils. The captive women closed their eyes to shut out the horrid picture.

Suddenly Edith uttered a stifled scream—a warm breath was on her neck, and a soft voice was whispering words of comfort in her ear:—

"Hush! Do not scream. Do not fear. You shall be saved. I am Ah-mo, daughter of Pontiac, the great chief, sent by my father to see that you are not harmed. Now I will take you away. It is not safe for you longer to remain in this place. There. Do not rise. You would be seen. Move yourself carefully into the shadow behind the tree."

As these words were uttered, Edith's bonds were severed; she felt that she was again free, and, filled with courage born of a new hope, she obeyed implicitly the directions of her unseen friend. As she gained the shadow she found herself beside a girlish figure, who placed a finger on her lips, and then in a whisper bade her speak to Madam Rothsay, that she might not be frightened into an outcry. This Edith did, the elder woman was released as she had been, and in another minute the freed captives, trembling with excitement and nearly suffocated by the intensity of their emotions, were following, hand in hand, their silently flitting guide in the direction of the lake shore.

Their escape was effected none too soon, for they were not gone a hundred yards when it occurred to one of the Indians who had captured them to take a look at his prizes. His listless saunter toward where he had left them was changed to movements of bewildered activity, as in place of the cowering captives, he found only severed thongs, and realized that in some mysterious manner a release had been effected. He uttered a yell that brought a number of his companions to the spot, and in another minute a score or so of half-sobered savages were ranging the forest in every direction like sleuth-hounds.

"We must run!" exclaimed the Indian girl, as her quick ear caught the significant cries announcing the discovery of the escape.

Now the flight became a panting scramble over logs and through bushes. Fortunately the shore was near at hand, for Madam Rothsay was ready to sink from exhaustion as they reached it.

A low, bird-like call from Ah-mo brought to the beach a canoe that had rested motionless a few rods from shore. It held but a single occupant, and as it lightly touched the beach the Indian girl hurriedly assisted her breathless companions to enter, gave it a vigorous shove, took her own place in the stern, and seizing a paddle aided in its rapid but noiseless flight over the dark waters. The moon had not yet risen; and so, favored by darkness, a few vigorous strokes served to place the light craft beyond eyesight of those on shore. It seemed, though, as if the savages whose angry voices they could hear from the very spot of beach they had just left must see it, and the escaped captives hardly breathed as they reflected upon the narrow margin of safety by which they were separated from their fierce pursuers. All at once there came from these a yell of triumph instantly succeeded by the sounds of a struggle and followed a minute later by cries of rejoicing.

As these sounds receded from the shore, and the canoe began once more to move forward under the impetus of its noiseless paddles, Ah-mo leaned forward and whispered to Edith, who sat nearest her: "They have taken some new captive. Perhaps it is the commander."

"Oh, I hope not!" murmured the girl. "I hope it is not poor Mr. Cuyler." At the thought a great wave of pity welled up in her heart. She knew the terrible hopelessness of a captivity in those hands; and though she could not yet determine whether she were still a prisoner or not, her present position was blissful compared with what it had been a few minutes before.

If she had known the cause of those wild shouts of rejoicing, and who it was that had been made captive in her place, her heart would indeed have been heavy, but mercifully the knowledge was spared to her.

In the canoe the ladies found several of their own wraps and cushions that Ah-mo had been thoughtful enough to secure. In these they nestled together for warmth and comfort, and talking in low tones discussed their situation during the hours that the canoe sped steadily onward.

At length the moon rose, and turning her head, Edith gazed curiously at the girl behind her. She could see that she was slender and very graceful, and she imagined her to be beautiful.

"How did your father know of our coming, and why did he send you to care for us?" she asked at length.

"My father is a great chief, and his eyes are everywhere," answered Ah-mo, proudly. "He sent me and Atoka, my brother, because he feared you might come to harm at the hands of the Wyandots."

"But why should he be particularly interested in our welfare, more than in that of others?"

"Are you not the daughter of Two Trees, the white-haired major, and is he not the friend of Pontiac? Even now he dwells in the camp of my father."

"Do you mean my father, Major Hester?" cried the bewildered girl.

"Yes."

"But he can't be dwelling among the enemies of the English. You must be mistaken, Ah-mo."

"It is as I have said," replied the girl.

"Are you then taking us to him now?"

"No. It would not be safe. There are too many bad men even in the camps of the Ottawas, and my father would have the daughter of his friend removed from all harm."

"Where, then, are you going?"

"You soon will see."

And with this the white girl was forced to be content.

The night was nearly spent when the canoe approached a small island in the middle of Lake Erie, but commanding the mouth of the Detroit river. Here it was run into a cove, and beached beside several other similar craft. Atoka, the young Indian, who had spoken no word during all this time, uttered a peculiar cry as he sprang ashore, and directly several dark forms appeared from a thicket that bordered the beach.

Ah-mo assured Edith that from these men she had nothing to fear, as they were picked Ottawa warriors devoted to her father's interests, and stationed them as outlooks to report the movements of any vessels on the lake.

After a few minutes of lively conversation between them and Atoka, the whole party entered the thicket, where, snugly hidden, stood several Indian lodges. One of these was quickly made ready for the women, and here, in spite of the uncertainties of their situation, Madam Rothsay and Edith Hester, wrapped in their own shawls, soon fell into the slumber of utter exhaustion.

CHAPTER XIX

THE TOTEM SAVES DONALD'S LIFE

Exhausted as she was, Edith Hester would hardly have slept that night had she known that he whose capture was the direct result of her flight was her own dearly loved brother Donald; but so it was. By strenuous exertions, he had so expedited the movements of his own party that they had passed two, and sometimes three, of Cuyler's camping-places in a day. They always examined these for information concerning those whom they were so anxious to overtake, and after a while their anxiety was increased by the finding of traces of Indian scouts in and about every camping-place. At length the camp sites gave proof of having been so recently occupied, that it seemed as though they might sight Cuyler's boats at any time, and Paymaster Bullen, in anticipation of a speedy meeting with the ladies, devoted so much attention to his personal appearance that never had such a dandy as he been seen in the wilderness.