Part 13 (1/2)

”To the door!” cried he; ”retreat towards the door at once.”

The darkness added to the terror and difficulty of the conflict. Ichabod found himself, at first, engaged with Snake-tongue; but a blow from the b.u.t.t-end of his rifle ended the unequal conflict, and the Seneca lay disabled. ”Take that, you infarnal slanderer,” he cried, as he dealt the blow. ”Learn to use your cussed snake's tongue with more moderation, when speaking of respectable females.” But Deersfoot now rushed upon him, and a strife commenced, more equal; both strong and powerful in frame, they were well matched. Ichabod caught the first blow of the tomahawk upon his rifle, and then, ere the Indian could use his knife, his long, muscular arms were about him. For a moment they wavered, as in an equal struggle, when both fell to the ground. At the same moment, a number more of the enemy came leaping to join the conflict.

”To the door, for your lives!” shouted Ralph. The contest was now desperate; and slowly retreating, they reached the door, the Tuscarora, being last to cross the threshold. The Indians followed, leaping into the doorway; but the Tuscarora, with the sweep of his rifle, for a moment drove them backwards, then springing within, the door was closed.

None of the party had escaped without injury; and it was not until the door was closed, and the air rang with triumphant yells from the Senecas, that it was discovered that Ichabod was missing. The first impulse was again to open the door, and rescue him, at any odds; but a moment's reflection taught Ralph, that such a course, now that the Senecas were reinforced, would only put their own lives in the utmost jeopardy, without their being able to a.s.sist their friend.

”No good for _you_ to open door,” said Eagle's-Wing, ”I go and save friend.”

”No, no, Eagle's-Wing,” exclaimed Barton, ”you cannot save him now; and you will only lose your own life, and peril ours. They will not take _his_ scalp, but they will _yours_.”

”That true--won't kill him to-night, any way. He great warrior--they like to torture great warriors. We save him to-morrow, some way.”

It was with a feeling of sorrow that Ralph acknowledged their inability to do anything for the rescue of Ichabod. Willingly would he have risked his own life; but there was Ruth--who together with the others, might be sacrificed by the imprudent attempt. With a feeling of deep grief, he was obliged to leave him to his fate.

It was now discovered, too, that Guthrie was gone. Could it be that his body had been removed by a Seneca during the conflict? It was not possible; and it was evident, that while in the darkness, he was supposed to have been slain by the Tuscarora, he had counterfeited death, hoping to find some means of escape. With beating hearts, Ralph and Barton proceeded up the stairway. They reached the apartment which they had so recently left: but it was empty. From the window, near which Guthrie had stood, the fastening had been removed from the frame work of bars, and it was certain that through this window Guthrie had escaped, and had carried with him the unfortunate Ruth.

CHAPTER XI.

”'Tis vain to sigh! the wheel must on; And straws are to the whirlpool drawn With s.h.i.+ps of gallant mien.”

FRENEAU

No sooner had Barton realized his loss, than he gave himself up to the bitterest feelings of despair. This interim was succeeded by a burning thirst for revenge. ”Come, Ralph!--Come, Eagle's-Wing! let us pursue them--let us destroy them! Oh, my G.o.d! thus in my old age to suffer this heavy blow!” and, excited to madness, he fled down the stairway, followed by Ralph and the Tuscarora. Before they could overtake him, he had unbarred the door, and crossed the threshold but no enemy was there.

Ralph, himself overwhelmed with grief, endeavored to console the old man; but there was no balm for such a wound, and he fell fainting into the arms of Ralph.

Ralph, although overborne by grief, possessed a firmness of mind that sought a remedy for affliction, where a remedy was attainable, instead of tamely yielding. Anxiously he and the Tuscarora counseled together upon the course to be pursued. Whether Ruth had been taken prisoner either by Guthrie or the Indians, the result would be the same--she would be a captive among the Senecas. They did not believe any attempt would be made upon her life; but they did fear that the Indians, who had, for the present at least, abandoned their attack upon the cottage, satisfied with the prisoners they had taken, might at once attempt a march to the country of the Senecas, and thus hold their prisoners in a long and tedious captivity. It was, then, with much anxiety that they consulted together upon the course now to be adopted. But we will leave them for the present, to follow the fortunes of Ichabod.

After he had been deserted, unintentionally, by his companions, the strife between him and Deersfoot was no longer equal. Scarcely had the Senecas been foiled in their attempt to follow their intended victims into the cottage, ere Ichabod was seized, and his arms securely pinioned. The Senecas manifested their joy by the most ferocious yells, when they discovered that they had in their possession an enemy so formidable.

”Yell, you red devils!” exclaimed Ichabod: ”Ten to one ain't worth crowing about. But I'll tell you what--give me that rifle of mine, and I'll tackle any five of you, any way. But I never did know a Seneca that had a particle of the gentleman about him.”

The Indians did not deign any reply to this proposition, but at once made preparations to remove their prisoner. Four of the Senecas were placed as a guard about him, and the march was begun towards their encampment. The remainder of the party bore the dead bodies of their companions, who had been killed in the affray: but Ichabod noticed that there were only fifteen in this party, and consequently there must be eight or ten more either about the cottage, or else already on the march towards their camp.

The route pursued by the Senecas, was that which we have already described as the one traveled by Ralph and Miss Barton on a former occasion, until they pa.s.sed the shanty, when they struck off towards the left, in the direction of the river.

The encampment, or temporary village of the Senecas, was located in the widest portion of the flats we have before noticed, and at a distance of about ten or fifteen rods from the river, which at this point flowed for nearly a hundred rods in a north and south line. But before reaching this point, the course of the stream was extremely serpentine, making several long windings through the valley.

The encampment was in a clearing of an acre or two in extent; which had evidently been cleared many years before; for the ground was covered with a rich green-sward, while three or four old stumps, scattered about the field, denoted that years had elapsed since it had been rescued from the dominion of the forest. It was in an oval form, and entirely surrounded by wilderness. In the midst of this field or clearing, there had been erected five or six temporary huts, by the use of some small saplings and boughs, sufficient to answer for a protection from the sun, as well as from the rains. These huts were arranged in a circle, and in the centre was one smaller than the others; and from the fact, that it was more neatly as well as securely constructed, Ichabod _guessed_ that it must be occupied by Singing-Bird.

The party accompanying Ichabod, had reached the clearing soon after sunrise, when he was led to one of the outer huts, where, after his captors had securely fastened his feet, he was left upon a bed of leaves and boughs to digest his thoughts as he was best able under the circ.u.mstances. He had not remained a long time in this condition, before he heard the noise of the arrival of another party; and he readily imagined, from the joy with which they were received, that they, also, had brought with them a captive from the cottage. Who this could be, he could not conjecture; and this fact rendered his position still more uneasy. He had already devised half-a-dozen plans, through some of which, he calculated upon his escape, together with the rescue of Singing-Bird. But if the new captive should happen to be the Tuscarora, then the desire for vengeance, on the part of the Senecas, might forestall his plans, before they could be put in operation. He did not believe that the Indians intended _him_ any bodily injury; for although he knew their crafty and murderous natures, he did not think they would dare, in the present condition of the Colonies, to violate a peace, which would be likely to draw upon them the vengeance of the whites.

Uneasy at the conjecture that Eagle's-Wing might be the new captive, and pained by the tightness of the withes which had been bound about his feet and hands, he made a desperate effort to free himself from them.

While engaged in this effort, a shadow darkened the doorway of the hut, and Panther and Snake-tongue stood before him. They had evidently detected the effort of Ichabod; but no expression upon their countenances denoted the fact.

The two chiefs approached the bed occupied by Ichabod, and surveyed their captive silently for a few moments; when Panther, directing his conversation to Snake-tongue, exclaimed: