Ella Barnwell Part 15

"No help for it!" cried Ella in alarm, who, having greeted the old hunter, with tearful eyes, now stood weeping by his side. "No help for it! Heaven have mercy!--say not so! They must--they must be rescued!"

Then turning wildly to Boone, she grasped his hand in both of hers, and exclaimed: "Oh! sir, speak! tell me they can be saved--and on my knees will I bless you!"

A few words now rapidly uttered by Isaac, put the old hunter in possession of the facts, concerning the forced march of Younker and Reynolds, of which he had previously heard nothing; and musing on the information a few moments, he shook his head sadly, and said, with a sigh:

"I'm sorry for you, Ella--I'm sorry for all o' ye--I'm sorry on my own account--but I'm o' the opinion o' Isaac, that thar's no help for it now. They're too far beyond us--we're in the Indian country--our numbers are few--two or three o' the red varmints have escaped to give 'em information o' what's been done--they'll be thirsty for revenge--and nothing but a special Providence can now alter that prisoners' doom. I had hoped it war to be otherwise; but we must submit to G.o.d's decrees;"

and raising his hand to his eyes, the old woodsman hastily brushed away a tear, and turned aside to conceal his emotion; while Ella, overcome by her feelings, at the thought of having parted, perhaps for the last time, from Algernon and her uncle, staggered forward and sunk powerless into the arms of Mrs. Younker, whose tears now mingled with her own.

By this time the whole party had gathered silently around their n.o.ble leader, and were observing the sad scene as much as the feeble light of the scattered brands would permit, their faces exhibiting a mournfulness of expression in striking contrast to that they had so lately displayed, previous to the death of their comrade. To them Boone now turned, and running his eye slowly over the whole, said, in a sad voice:

"Well, lads, one o' our party's gone to his last account, I perceive,"

and he pointed mournfully to the still body of Beecher, some three or four paces distant; "another I see is wounded, and a third's missing.

I hope no harm's befallen him, the n.o.ble Master Harry Millbanks!"

"Alas! he's dead, Colonel!" answered Isaac, covering his eyes with his hand.

"Dead?" echoed Boone.

"Dead?" cried the others, simultaneously.

"Yes," rejoined Isaac, with a sigh; "He and I war chasing that thar infernal renegade Girty, who war running away with Ella thar; and he'd jest got up to him, and got him by the arm, when Girty shuk him off like it warn't nothing at all, and then shot him dead on the spot. Ef he hadn't a bin quite so quick about it, I think as how it wouldn't a happened; for the next moment I hit him a rap on the head with the b.u.t.t-end o' my rifle, that sent him a staggering off, and would ha'

fetched him to the ground, ef it hadn't first struck a limb. Howsomever, it made him let go o' Ella, and start up a new trail--jest leaving his compliments for me in the shape of a bullet, which, ef it didn't do me no harm, it warn't 'cause he didn't intend it to. I jest stopped to look at poor Harry; and finding he war dead, I took Ella by the hand and come straight down here."

"Who's that you said war dead, Isaac?" inquired his mother, who had partially overheard the conversation.

"Harry Millbanks, mother."

"Harry Millbanks!" repeated the dame in astonishment. "What, young Harry?--our Harry?--Goodness gracious, marcy on me! what orful mean wretches them Injens is, to kill sech as him. Dear me! then the hull family is gone; for I hearn from Rosetta, that her father and mother and all war killed afore her eyes; and now she's bin taken on to be killed too, the darling."

"Ha! yes," said Boone, as if struck with a new thought; "I remember seeing the foot-prints of a child--war they made by this unfortunate young man's sister?"

"I reckon as how they war," answered Mrs. Younker; "for the poor thing war a prisoner along with us, crying whensomever she dared to, like all nater."

"Well," rejoined the old hunter, musingly, "we've done all we could--I'm sorry it didn't turn out better--but we must now leave their fates in the hands o' Providence, and return to our homes. We must bury our dead first; and I don't know o' any better way than to sink thar bodies in the Ohio."

Accordingly, after some further conversation, four of the party proceeded for the body of Millbanks--with which they soon returned--while Boone conducted the ladies away from the scene of horror, and down to where Ella informed him the canoes were hidden, leaving his younger companions to rifle and scalp the savages if they chose. In a few minutes from his arrival at the point in question, he was joined by the others, who came slowly, in silence, bearing the mortal remains of Millbanks and Beecher. Placing the canoes in the water, the whole party entered them, in the same silent and solemn manner, and pulled slowly down the Miami, into the middle of the Ohio; then leaving the vessels to float with the current, they uncovered their heads, and mournfully consigned the bodies of the deceased to the watery element.

It was a sad and impressive scene--there, on the turbid Ohio, near the midnight hour--to give to the rolling waters the last remains of those who had been their friends and companions, and as full of life and activity as themselves but an hour before;--it was a sad, impressive, and affecting scene--one that was looked upon with weeping eyes--and one which, by those who witnessed it, was never to be forgotten.

There were no loud bursts of grief--there were no frantic exclamations of woe--but the place, the hour, and withal the various events which had transpired to call them so soon from a scene of festivity to one of mourning--together with the thoughts of other friends departed, or in terrible captivity--served to render it a most painfully solemn one--and one, as we said before, that was destined never to be forgotten.

For a short s.p.a.ce after the river engulphed the bodies, all gazed upon the waters in silence; when Boone said, in a voice slightly trembling.

"They did their duties--they have gone--G.o.d rest their souls, and give peace to their bones!" and taking up a paddle, the n.o.ble old hunter pulled steadily for the Kentucky sh.o.r.e in silence, followed by the other boats in the same manner. There they landed, placed the canoes in safety, in case they should again be needed, rekindled their fire, and encamped for the night.

On the following morning, they set out upon their homeward journey; where they finally arrived, without any events occurring worthy of note.

[Footnote 11: A hunter's phrase for taking sight.]

CHAPTER XII.

THE INDIANS AND THEIR PRISONERS.

As you ascend the Miami from its mouth at the present day, you come almost immediately upon what are termed the Bottoms, or Bottom Lands, which are rich and fertile tracts of country, of miles in extent, and sometimes miles in breadth, almost water level, with the stream in question slowly winding its course through them, like a deep blue ribbon carelessly unrolled upon a dark surface. They are now mostly under culture, and almost entirely devoted to the production of maize, which, in the autumn of the year, presents the goodly sight of a golden harvest. At the time of which we write, there were no such pleasant demonstrations of civilization, but a vast unbroken forest instead, some vestiges of which still remain, in the shape of old decaying trees, standing grim and naked,

"To summer's heat and winter's blast,"

like the ruins of ancient structures, to remind the beholder of former days.

On these Bottoms, about ten miles above the mouth of the Miami, Wild-cat and his party, with their prisoners, encamped on the evening the attack was made upon the renegade, as shown in the preceding chapter.

Possessing caution in a great degree, and fearful of the escape of his prisoners, Wild-cat spared no precautions which he thought might enhance the security of Younker and Reynolds. Accordingly, when arrived at the spot where he intended to remain for the night, the chief ordered stakes to be driven deep into the earth, some distance apart, to which the feet of the two in question, after being thrown flat upon their backs, in opposite directions, were tightly bound, with their hands still corded to the crossbars as before. A rope was next fastened around the neck of each, and secured to a neighboring sapling, in which uncomfortable manner they were left to pa.s.s the night; while their captors, starting a fire, threw themselves upon the earth around it, and soon to all appearance were sound asleep.

To the tortures of her older companions in captivity, little Rosetta was not subjected; for Oshasqua--the fierce warrior to whom Girty had consigned her, in the expectation, probably, that she would long ere this have been knocked on the head and scalped--had, by one of those strange mysterious phenomena of nature, (so difficult of comprehension, and which have been known to link the rough and b.l.o.o.d.y with the gentle and innocent,) already begun to feel towards her a sort of affection, and to treat her with great kindness whenever he could do so un.o.bserved by the others. The apparel of which he had at first divested her, to ornament his own person, had been restored, piece by piece; and this, together with the change in his manner, had at length been observed by the child, with feelings of grat.i.tude. Poor little thing! to whom could she look for protection now? Her father and mother were dead--had been murdered before her own eyes--her brother was away, and she herself a captive to an almost merciless foe; could she feel other than grateful for an act of kindness, from one at whose hands she looked for nothing but abuse and death? Nay, more: So strange and complex is the human heart--so singular in its developments--that we see nothing to wonder at, in her feeling for the savage, under the circ.u.mstances--loathsome and offensive as he might have been to her under others--a sort of affection--or rather, a yearning toward him as a protector. Such she did feel; and thus between two human beings, as much antagonistical perhaps, in every particular, as Nature ever presented, was already established a kind of magnetic sympathy--or, in other words, a gradual blending together of opposites. The result of all this, as may be imagined, was highly beneficial to Rosetta, who, in consequence, fared as well as circ.u.mstances would permit. At night she slept unbound beside Oshasqua, who secured her from escape by pa.s.sing his brawny arm under her head, which also in a measure served her for a pillow. So slept she on the night in question.

With Younker and Reynolds there was little that could be called sleep--the minds of both being too actively employed with the events which had transpired, and with thoughts of those so dear to them, who had been left behind, for what fate G.o.d only knew. Besides, there was little wherewithal to court the drowsy G.o.d, in the manner of their repose--each limb being strained and corded in a position the most painful--and if they slept at all, it was that feverish and fitful slumber, which, though it serve in part the design of nature, brings with it nothing refres.h.i.+ng to the individual himself. To both, therefore, the night proved one of torture to body and mind; and bad as was their condition after the encampment, it was destined to be worse ere the gray dawn of morning, by the arrival of Girty and the only two Indians who had escaped the deadly rifles of the Kentuckians.

"Up, warriors!" cried the renegade, with a blasphemous oath, as he came upon the detachment. "Up, warriors! and sharpen your wits to invent the most d.a.m.nable tortures that the mind of man can conceive!" and at the sound of his voice, which was loud and hoa.r.s.e, each Indian sprung to his feet, with an anxious and troubled face.

"And you, ye miserable white dogs!" continued Girty, turning to Younker and Reynolds, on whom he bestowed numerous kicks, as if by way of enforcing the truth his a.s.sertion; "were you suffering all the torments of h.e.l.l, you might consider yourselves in perfect bliss, compared to what you shall yet undergo ere death s.n.a.t.c.hes you from me!"

"What new troubles ha' ye got, Simon Girty?" asked Younker, composedly.

"But you needn't answer; I can see what's writ on your face; thar's bin a rescue--you've lost your prisoners--for which the Lord be praised! I can die content now, with all your tortures."

"Can you, by ----!" cried the renegade, in a paroxysm of rage; "we shall see!"

As he concluded, he bestowed upon Younker a kick in the face, so violent that a stream of blood followed it. The old man uttered a slight groan, but made no other answer; and Girty turned away to communicate to the others the intelligence of what had transpired since their parting; for although they believed it to be of the utmost consequence, and tragical in all its bearings, yet so far there had not been a question asked nor an event related concerning it on either side--such being the force of habit in all matters of grave importance, and the deference to his superiors shown by the Indian on all similar occasions.

As soon as Girty had made known the sad disaster that had befallen his party, there was one universal yell of rage, accompanied by violent demonstrations of grief and anger--such as beating their bodies, stamping fiercely on the ground, and brandis.h.i.+ng their tomahawks over their heads with terrific gestures. They then proceeded to dance around Younker and Reynolds, uttering horrid yells, accompanied with kicks and blows; after which, a consultation was held between Girty and Wild-cat, wherein it was agreed to take them to Piqua, a Shawanoe settlement on the Miami, and there have them put to the tortures. Accordingly, without further delay, they unbound their prisoners, with the exception of their hands, and forced them to set forward at a fast pace--treating them, meanwhile, in the most brutal manner. Oshasqua, however, took good care there should be no violence done to Rosetta; for he kept her closely by his side; and occasionally, when he saw her little limbs growing weary, raised and bore her forward, for a considerable distance, in his arms.

It was a strange, but by no means unpleasing sight, to behold that dark, bloodstained warrior--whose very nature was cruel and ferocious, and who probably had never before loved or sought to protect aught bearing the human form--now exhibiting such tender regard for a weak, trembling prisoner, placed in his hands for a speedy sacrifice. It was withal an affecting sight, to Younker and Reynolds, who looked upon it with moistened eyes, and felt it in the force of a revelation from Heaven, that He, who sees the sparrow fall, was even now moving through the wilderness, and teaching one lesson of mercy at least to the most obdurate heart of the savage race.

To the renegade, however, this conduct of Oshasqua was far from being agreeable; for so much did he delight in cruelty, and so bitterly did he hate all his race--particularly now, after having been foiled by them so lately--that he would a thousand times rather have heard the dying groans of the child, and seen her in the last agonies of death, than in the warrior's arms. At length he advanced to the side of the Indian, and said in the Shawanoe dialect, with a sneer:

"Is Oshasqua a squaw, that he should turn nurse?"

Probably from the whole vocabulary of the Indian tongue, a phrase more expressive of contempt, and one that would have been more severely felt by the savage warrior, who abhors any thing of a womanly nature, could not have been selected; and this Girty, who understood well to whom he was speaking, knew, and was prepared to see the h.e.l.lish design of his heart meet with a ready second from Oshasqua. For a moment after he spoke, the latter looked upon the renegade with flas.h.i.+ng eyes; and then seizing Rosetta roughly, he raised her aloft, as if with the intention of das.h.i.+ng her brains out at his feet. She doubtless understood from his fierce movement the murderous intent in his breast, and uttered a heart-rending cry of anguish. In an instant the grim features of the Indian softened; and lowering her again to her former position in his arms, he turned coldly to Girty, and smiting his breast with his hand, said, with dignity:

"Oshasqua a warrior above suspicion. He can save and defend with his life whom he loves!"

Girty bit his lips, and uttering a deep malediction in English, turned away to consult with Wild-cat on the matter; but finding the chief would not join him in interfering with the rights of the other, he growled out another dreadful oath, and let the subject drop.

Late at night the party encamped within something like a mile of Piqua; and by daylight a warrior was despatched to convey intelligence of their approach, their prisoners, and the sad disaster they had experienced on their journey. In the course of an hour the messenger returned, bringing with him a vast number of savages of both s.e.xes and all ages, who immediately set up the most horrid yells, danced around Younker and Algernon like madmen, not unfrequently beating and kicking them unmercifully. They then departed for the town, taking the prisoners with them, where their fate was to be decided by the council.[12] But ere sentence should be p.r.o.nounced, it was the unanimous decision of the savages, that they should have some amus.e.m.e.nt, by forcing the prisoners to run the gauntlet. This, to the women and children, as well as the warriors themselves, was a most delightful sport, and they at once made the welkin ring with yells of joy.

"It's a hard task we've got to undergo now, Algernon," said Younker, in a low voice; "and G.o.d send it may be my last; for I'd much rayther die this way, nor at the stake. I don't at all calculate on escaping--but something tells me you will--and ef you do--"

Here the old man was interrupted by Girty, who forced himself between the two and separated them. Younker being the first selected to run the gauntlet, was immediately unbound, and stripped to the skin,[13]