Part 19 (2/2)
”This nothing, when Injins drunk. Poor Injin that get drunk. Say, when ready to have other thong cut.”
”Don't be in a hurry, Eagle's-Wing. You see that red devil, yonder, that's been set here to guard me? He's got my rifle, and I want it. Wait till he comes up here again, and when he has fairly got his back turned, then cut the thong: or, if you've got a spare knife, just give me that, and I'll cut it myself, while you get the rifle. Hus.h.!.+ he's coming.”
The Seneca advanced rapidly, evidently fearful that some accident might have happened during his long absence. At this moment, a large quant.i.ty of brush was thrown upon the fire, which almost wholly--for a few moments--obscured the light, and left them buried in thick darkness.
This might be a circ.u.mstance either favorable or unfavorable, depending, however, upon the suspicious nature of the Indian. As it seemed, he was more than usually suspicious; and Ichabod breathed shorter, and the Tuscarora prepared for a sudden spring upon him, as the Seneca advanced close to Ichabod; and, with the intention of ascertaining that his prisoner was safe, he reached out his hand to feel of the thongs.
Fortunately, his hand fell upon that which remained uncut, about the waist of Ichabod, which he slightly jerked; and feeling it secure, did not examine any further, but turned as if to walk back towards the fire.
At this moment, a knife was pa.s.sed to Ichabod by the Tuscarora, and at the same instant, the latter darted upon the Seneca, and struck him through the back with his knife. There was no struggle--no shriek, no sound that could have been heard four rods distant, even; for the blade had, doubtless, pierced the heart of the Seneca, and he fell with a slight shudder, forwards, on his face. The Tuscarora seized the rifle of Ichabod, and before the latter had fairly unfastened himself from the tree, he had secured beneath his belt the scalp of the unfortunate Seneca.
”Three scalp on war-path,” said Eagle's-Wing. ”That not bad.”
”I am sorry that you should stick to that heathenish custom, Eagle's-Wing,” said Ichabod; ”but there's no use talking about it. An Injin's an Injin, and I suppose he must fight like an Injin.”
Guided by the Tuscarora, Ichabod proceeded to the border of the clearing--but beyond the circle of light thrown by the fire--to the distance of eight or ten rods, where they found Ralph, anxiously waiting the result of Eagle's-Wing's enterprise. From his position, while the fire was burning, he was able to see both Ichabod and the Tuscarora, until the moment when the guard had returned to the tree, when the obscurity had withdrawn them from his sight. The sudden renewal of the light, as the fire leaped and crackled among the dry branches, showed him that they had escaped; and it was with no little pleasure that he again grasped the honest hand of Ichabod.
But there was yet another undertaking to be performed--and that was, the release of both Ruth and Singing-Bird. Ralph and Eagle's-Wing had hit upon a plan by which they hoped to accomplish their purpose; and it was rapidly communicated to Ichabod, who approved of it; when they immediately set about putting it into execution.
The lodge occupied by the two prisoners whom they now sought to release, was, as we have already mentioned, situated in the centre of a circle of lodges. The fire which the savages had kindled, was near the centre of the circle, and was in close proximity, therefore, to the lodge occupied by Ruth and Singing-Bird: but the fire was on the south of it, so that the north side of the lodge, as well as the lodges immediately in the rear, were thrown into the shade. When the hurried communication was made to Ichabod, of the plan proposed, they were standing directly in the rear of the lodge, and at a distance of only ten or fifteen rods from the outer lodges. It was necessary that their plan should be put in execution at once, as at any moment the discovery of Ichabod's escape might be made, when the Indians would set off in pursuit; and without their present plan could, therefore, be executed before that event should happen, it would be likely to fail altogether.
They advanced cautiously towards the lodges; and when they arrived at a point where they had them in full view, as well as the Senecas, who were yet dancing and screaming about the fire, they congratulated themselves on the fact, that no Indian was to be discovered in the direction in which they wished to proceed. They had reached within six rods of the outer lodges, and Eagle's-Wing had already thrown himself upon the ground, with the intention of creeping forward in the position, when Guthrie was seen, accompanied by Panther, approaching the lodge occupied by the two female prisoners. They came within a few feet of it, when they sat down upon a log, engaged, apparently, in earnest conversation.
Their voices could be heard occasionally; and although their precise conversation could not be ascertained, it was obvious that Guthrie was warmly insisting upon some measure that was opposed to Panther. Once or twice Ralph thought he detected the name of Ruth Barton, as Guthrie was expostulating in a somewhat louder tone of voice than usual. Knowing the unscrupulous nature of the villain, he felt, by a sort of instinct, that Panther, in that conversation, for some reason of his own, was occupying a position in accordance with his own sentiments and feelings.
The presence of these two individuals disconcerted the whole plan of operations. It was a difficulty which had not been antic.i.p.ated. After waiting for a short time, and seeing that neither Guthrie nor Panther showed any immediate intention of removing, they anxiously sought for some other plan, by which to accomplish their purpose. But ere that was done, Panther, to their great joy, arose and departed in the direction of the fire. Guthrie now remained alone. The Tuscarora significantly drew his knife, and pointed towards him; but Ichabod, at once, expressed his dissent.
”That will never do, Eagle's-Wing. You can't do that twice in one hour, and have it succeed; for if he makes the slightest noise, we shall be obliged to take to our heels. No--that won't do. I have it,” said he, with a sudden idea, ”and I'll do a little business of my own, at the same time;” and, after whispering a few words to his companions, he cautiously crept backwards into the wood, and then proceeded as cautiously in a westward direction, until he had reached a point sufficiently out of the course that it would be necessary for Ralph and Eagle's-Wing to pursue in making their escape.
Guthrie, in the meantime, remained seated in the same position which he had occupied during the conversation with Panther. He was evidently in a better mood; for, with his cap slouched over his eyes, and his head leaning upon his hand, he seemed to be muttering his grievances to himself. All at once, his ears were saluted with the peculiar grunt or growl of a bear. He raised his head, turned slowly round, and looked backwards toward the forest; then, examining his rifle, raised himself upon his feet. Now, a bear, in the days of which we are writing, was not, by any means, a very uncommon object with the hunter in this portion of the State; but those animals were sufficiently scarce, so that the capture of one, while it added largely to one's stock of provisions, also added very much to the reputation of the hunter.
Guthrie, notwithstanding the mood which seemed to be upon him, did not choose to neglect so favorable an opportunity of, at the same time, ministering to the appet.i.tes of his companions, and to his own reputation as a skilful hunter. He again heard the growl of the bear, and, looking cautiously about to see that no one else had noticed the proximity of the favorite game, he moved slowly forward towards the forest.
When he had advanced to a point where his back was turned towards the position occupied by Ralph and Eagle's-Wing, the latter crept quickly forward in the direction of the lodge; he pa.s.sed the outer lodge, and halting for a moment to see that he was not observed, moved again rapidly towards the lodge where he expected to find Ruth and her companion.
As Guthrie advanced into the forest, Ichabod, from whom the sounds had proceeded that attracted his attention, moved as cautiously before him, occasionally, however, imitating the growl of the animal he was personating, so as to keep Guthrie from straying from the right direction. In this manner, he had succeeded in leading Guthrie nearly half a mile from the lodges of the Senecas, when, as he believed that before that time, Ralph and Eagle's-Wing must have succeeded in their efforts, as a failure on their part would have been signalled by the cries of the enemy, he determined to end the hunt upon which Guthrie was engaged, by letting him know the precise _game_ of which he had been in pursuit. Secreting himself behind a tree, that he might not be too early discovered by Guthrie, as it was not so dark but that objects at two or three rods' distance might be discerned with tolerable accuracy, he waited the coming of his enemy. As Guthrie was about pa.s.sing him, slightly bent forward, as in the attempt to pierce into the obscurity of the forest, he leaped upon him and pinioned him in his muscular arms. In a moment more, Guthrie was disarmed, and was lying helplessly upon the ground, his hands being securely fastened by a cord which Ichabod had drawn from his pocket. Guthrie, in his astonishment and fear, had not yet recognized the person of his captor.
”Get up here, you infarnal villain!” cried Ichabod; ”what's the use of lying upon the ground, when you can just as well stand on your feet?”
and he caught hold of him to a.s.sist him in rising. Guthrie now saw that he was in the power of Ichabod--and at once, with the characteristic meanness and cowardice of a rascal, began to beg for life.
”You judge of me, I reckon,” said Ichabod, with contempt, ”by what you'd do yourself, were you in my place, you white-livered Tory. Stop your howling. I don't intend to kill you. I never do that kind of thing in cold blood; and yet I don't know why a man's conscience should be burdened any by smothering the venom of such a _reptile_ as this, anywhere he can catch him.”
Ichabod surveyed the miserable wretch for a few moments, with a mixture of disgust, contempt, and pity. Fear seemed to deprive him of all rational power of speech, and he testified his agony by sobs and shrieks. Ichabod drew from his pocket another cord.
”I'll tell you what, you infarnal traitor, you shall have a touch of the same fare you sarved up for me; only you won't have anybody to guard you from the bears and wolves. You'll be tied up to this tree to-night; and if your friends find you scattered round in pieces in the morning, it will be the fault of the bears and wolves, and not mine.”
With this, he fastened him securely to the tree. Then shouldering his rifle, he exclaimed, amidst the shrieks of the miserable wretch for help--
”You're a Tory, a traitor, and a liar; and there's no use in asking G.o.d to have marcy on your soul, under any circ.u.mstances. All I've got to say is, before bidding you good-night, that if you escape from here, and your miserable carca.s.s ever crosses my path, I'll shoot you as I would a wolf.”
<script>