The Frontiersmen Part 5

The moonlight lay in scattered patches in the forest, but every shadow seemed occupied by an enemy. The pursuers had now approached so near, that Ralph could hear the crackling of the dry underbrush and branches, over and through which they ran, amidst the noise of their cries.

Looking behind him, he saw the leaders of the pack leaping upon their track, and in the moonlight saw, with terrible distinctness, their glaring eyes and protruded tongues. The horses strained every muscle, quivering with affright, but the wolves were approaching--were almost upon them! s.n.a.t.c.hing, with a hurried hand, a shawl from the shoulders of Ruth, he threw it behind them. For a moment the chase ceased; and with wild, ferocious cries, the pack gathered around the object which had been so opportunely offered to them. At that instant, when the last hope had nearly vanished, the eyes of the travelers encountered in the path before them the form of an Indian, who, with outstretched arms, requested them to stop. In a moment they approached him, when with a rapid utterance, he exclaimed:

"Me friend; me Tuscarora--come!" and suddenly seizing the horses by the bits, he led them three or four rods from the path, where they saw before them, in the midst of the forest, a small log hut; although in an extremely ruinous condition, it afforded the protection which, but a few minutes before, seemed utterly withheld from them.

Again were heard the cries of the wolves, and the noise of their approach! Ralph leaped from his horse, and at once lifted Ruth from the saddle, who, until that moment, had preserved her courage and fort.i.tude, but now fell fainting into his arms. He bore her instantly into the hut, where the Tuscarora rapidly brought in the horses after them; and the door was closed, just as the ferocious pack came rus.h.i.+ng into the open s.p.a.ce before the hut.

CHAPTER VI.

"And then to mark the lord of all, The forest hero, trained to wars, Quivered and plumed, and lithe and tall, And seamed with glorious scars."

BRYANT.

Ralph, as we have said, bore his fainting burden into the hut and the Tuscarora, having secured the frightened horses, at once hastened to his a.s.sistance. Ruth, in a few moments, became partially restored; and a blush lit up the pallor of her countenance, as she found herself sustained in the arms of Ralph. Partially withdrawing from his support, she said:

"You must be astonished, Captain Weston, that a woodman's daughter had so little fort.i.tude as to be unable to withstand the ordinary perils of her condition. I almost feel that I owe you an apology."

"You have no reason to be ashamed of your want of fort.i.tude, Miss Barton," answered Ralph. "The courage with which you endured that terrible ride was amazing. You have more, much more, than sustained your reputation as a woodman's daughter."

Ralph now, for the first time, observed the Tuscarora, who was standing silently before him leaning upon his rifle. The Indian was of little more than medium height, and straight as an arrow. His form was rather slight than otherwise, but was fully developed, and gave evidence of great agility and strength. His countenance was open and frank; and in his present att.i.tude of repose, one would not have thought that he possessed those peculiar qualities of the Indian, which we are apt to a.s.sociate with our recollections of that rapidly wasting race. He looked like a true lord of the forest,--cold and impa.s.sive in demeanor,--but concealing beneath that grave exterior a fountain of terrible pa.s.sions.

He had not yet pa.s.sed the age of "youth," for not more than thirty times, to him, had the leaves of autumn fallen; yet his youth seemed extinguished in the gravity of the warrior.

Ralph could not resist a feeling of admiration at the well-built frame and n.o.ble countenance of the Tuscarora; and advancing towards him, he grasped him by the hand.

"Tuscarora," said he, "you have this night rendered this young lady and myself a service, for which we shall ever be grateful; you have preserved our lives."

The Indian, with a modest gesture, seemed to disclaim the grat.i.tude which Ralph so freely expressed--then quietly said:

"Tuscarora friend to the colony pale-face--me no Kings Injin--me do my duty to friend. Young people careless--all heart--no eyes--no mind wolves;--me know--me waited for 'em."

"I did not know," said Ralph, "that the wolves of this section ever attacked men."

"No often; but get hungry sometimes--then ugly--then must look out. Hear that?"

Since our travelers had entered their place of safety, the forest seemed to be alive with the unearthly howls of the beasts, whose din increased at the loss of their prey. They had rushed up to the sides of the hut; and, as the Tuscarora answered Ralph, a number of them had evidently leaped against the door and the sides of the building with a savage ferocity.

"Me have fun, now," said the Tuscarora, advancing towards one of the numerous loop-holes of the hut, which had been made by its builder for its defence. "Me shoot--give 'em something to howl for."

His rifle was discharged, and for a moment, the din outside completely ceased; but as the pack saw one of their number fall, their cries increased in ferocity, until they became almost deafening. Ralph advanced to one of the loop-holes, and looked out upon the savage crowd of beasts, which seemed determined to besiege them into a surrender. As well as he could observe in the moonlight, there appeared to be forty or fifty of them, standing before and prowling about the hut, with their faces upturned--and their eyes gleaming like b.a.l.l.s of fire.

The North American wolf is naturally a cowardly animal; and never, when alone, dares to attack a man. The animal has become, in the section of country of which we are now writing, entirely extinct. Mean, thievish, cowardly in disposition, they always fled from an encounter with a human creature, except when frenzied with hunger, and gathered in large packs.

At such times, they become extremely dangerous; yet, even then, any resistance which seemed able to withstand their attack, at once disconcerted them.

The Indian again loaded his rifle, and again it was discharged. Another wolf was killed; and although they still kept up their clamor, they began to retreat to a distance from an enemy who had so much advantage of them.

"Wolf run," said the Tuscarora; "wolf no like rifle--they got no heart--cowards!" and, as if he disdained the firing upon so mean a foe, after reloading his rifle, he came towards Ralph, and quietly sat down on a rough bench by the side of the hut.

"Wolf run away," said he--"they gone soon--then you go home."

"We have our lives to thank you for, Tuscarora," said Ruth, with a look of grat.i.tude, "and my father will always be glad to welcome you to the cottage. Will you not return with us?"

"Not now--may be by-'m-by."

"Is your nation in this territory now?" asked Ralph.

"Me got no nation," said the Indian, sorrowfully. "Tuscaroras once great--away south. Then had great many warriors--then they great nation--but most all gone, now."

"Are not your people and the Oneidas brethren?"

"Oneidas are brothers--love Oneidas."

"Why are you here in this section alone, Tuscarora, with none of your brethren near you?" abruptly asked Ralph.

The Indian looked at him steadily for a moment, and then replied:

"My young friend is wise. The white men all ask questions--no good for Injin to answer questions;" and he fell into a gloomy and listless posture, and refused, for the time, to hold any further conversation.

The silence of the Tuscarora was somewhat embarra.s.sing to Ralph; and he again went towards the loop-holes to reconnoitre the present position of the enemy. The howls had almost entirely ceased; and what few were heard, seemed to be twenty-five or thirty rods distant. Just as he reached the loop-hole, he heard a rifle discharged on the outside, and a voice which he recognized as that of Ichabod, which made the woods ring again with a loud halloo.

The Indian started abruptly from his seat, and both he and Ralph advanced towards the door. On opening it, they discovered at the distance of ten rods three men who were rapidly approaching the hut. As they came from among the shadows of the trees into the bright moonlight, which lay in the small opening in front of the hut, Ralph recognized Barton and Ichabod accompanied by the negro.

The moment they were discovered by the party, Barton ran towards Ralph, exclaiming, "Is she safe, Ralph--is she safe?"

Scarcely was the question asked, before Ruth was in her father's arms.

"G.o.d bless thee, girl," said he; "I hardly dared hope ever to see thee again," and the tears rolled down his manly face.

"For this joy, my father, we have to thank this good Indian here. He it was who saved us."

The Indian, during this scene, had silently withdrawn into a deep shadow which fell by the side of the hut. There he stood, leaning upon his rifle, seemingly as pa.s.sionless and unconcerned as the shadow within which he stood.

Barton went up to him, and grasped him by the hand. "You have this day,"

said he, "in rescuing my daughter, saved both her life and my own. How can I thank you?"

The Tuscarora remained unmoved. "No thanks," said he. "The Great Spirit smiles when his children do their duty. Tuscarora likes colony pale-face. The Great Spirit sent me here--thank him, not poor Tuscarora."

"You say right, Tuscarora. G.o.d hath preserved my child this day. To Him be thanks, who taketh and giveth."

Scarcely had the first sound issued from the mouth of the Tuscarora, when Ichabod rapidly approached him. The Indian gave him a glance of recognition, and silently took his hand.

"Eagle's Wing, as I live!" exclaimed he. "Glad to see you again, old friend. I haven't seen you since we were down here on that last war-path."

Canendesha, as the Tuscarora was named by his own people, bore also the name of Eagle's Wing, which had been bestowed upon him not only for his boldness in fight, but for the keenness and rapidity with which he followed the trail of an enemy. When he heard himself thus called by his name of honor, he drew himself up with pride as he replied:

"Three summers and winters have destroyed the marks of the war-path. I have dwelt in the wigwams of my people, and near by the fires of the Oneidas."

In the meantime Barton had approached Ralph, and testified scarcely less joy at his deliverance than he had at that of Ruth. Ichabod and Eagle's Wing had withdrawn still further from observation into the shadow.