CHAPTER XXII

AMONGST THE SAVAGES

The moon was waning and the stars disappearing when the movements of the Indians told us that the journey was to be resumed. All night those who had not acted as a watch over the party had laid like statues folded in their blankets, but now they arose as one man and set about preparations for our departure. With their awakening we, too, roused ourselves. Food had been given us over night, consisting of wheaten cakes and dried deer's flesh, accompanied by gourds of fresh water, and this was again offered to us ere we set out. Mary and I scarce ate on either occasion, though the water was indeed welcome, but Mr. Kinchella made a good meal while Buck and his companions ate heartily, the ex-highwayman contriving as usual to regard all that occurred as something to be made light of.

"'Tis better than prison fare, anyway," he said to his companions in the dawn, as they fell to on the meat and bread, "but the devil take the water! 'Tis cold to the stomach even on so fine a summer morning, and a tass of Nantz or of Kill-devil from the islands would improve it marvellously. However, that we must not look for till we get back to freedom."

"You think, then," Mr. Kinchella asked him, "that to freedom we shall get back?" The man had proved himself so loyal to us that he was now admitted to almost familiarity and indeed, it could not be otherwise. If ever we returned in safety to Pomfret, or to the spot where Pomfret once stood, these men had my word that they were free; they were, therefore, no longer our inferiors, while, at the present moment, all who were prisoners in the hands of the Indians were on a most decided equality. Yet, let me say it to the honour of all who had been my bond-servants but a day or two before, none presumed upon their being so no longer, or treated us with aught but respect.

"I feel sure of it, reverend sir. As I said before, if the chief is thinking of anything it is not of killing or torturing us; while, if I had any money, I would bet it all that there would be a pretty scene when once Roderick is safely back in their encampment."

It seemed, indeed, as though this man had, in his shrewdness, penetrated the innermost thoughts of the Bear, for ere we had been an hour on the march he, halting his horse so as to send the advance party of his warriors on ahead, drew alongside of us and, after a silence of some minutes, said:

"White people who have dwelt for so long on the lands that once were ours, know you why your village, which has been spared by us for now so many moons, has been once more attacked and put to the slaughter by the braves of my tribe?"

No one answered him for some short space of time, but at last I, to whom he seemed particularly to address himself, said:

"We have no knowledge of why this should be, seeing that 'tis now almost two generations since those who were once our forefathers' friends attacked us. We had hoped that never would they do so again, since we have kept to our own lands and never sought to do evil to you or those of your race."

"Never sought to do evil, maiden! Nay, pause. Have 'you not now for more than fifty moons been dreaming of a raid to be made on us, of more red men to be slaughtered, more lands to be seized?"

"Never," I replied. "Never. I know all that has been thought of and every scheme that has been projected in our midst, yet there was never aught of this. Nay, so little did we dream of such an attack as you have made on us that, though we went always armed, 'twas more because of the custom which had grown upon us than for any other reason, and, if Indians came about we thought 'twas to take our cattle and our herds more than to massacre us."

"Yet it was told to us that your men were projecting a great war against us; that even from your other land beyond the deep waters warriors were being sent forth who should come and slay us all. That strange implements of war were being devised for our certain destruction, and that all of us were to be slaughtered and our lands and wives taken from us."

"Then," I replied, "you were told a base lie."

"Ay," exclaimed Buck from behind, "and I'll bet a guinea I know who told it."

The chief's eyes fell on him and rested on his face; then he spoke again, bidding him, since he said he knew who 'twas, to name the person.

"Name him," said Buck, "name him. Ay, that can I in the first guess. Why, 'twas that cursed, cringing hound, Roderick St. Amande, who fled from my pretty mistress's house when her father smote off his ear for daring to insult her. That's who it was, my noble chief."

"Smote off his ear!" exclaimed Anuza, while in his face there came the nearest approach to astonishment that I saw there during the time I was brought into contact with him. "Smote off the ear of the Child of the Sun. Yet he told us--he--is this the word of truth?"

"If that cursed impostor is the Child of the Sun--the Child of the Devil, ho, ho!--then 'tis most certainly the truth. Here's my lady who can tell you 'tis true. She saw it done. And, noble chief, is _that_ the one, that poor, miserable hound, who told you of the attack that was to be made on you and yours?"

The chief replied not but rode on by our side, his eyes bent on his horse's mane and he seemingly wrapped in thought. But he spake no more to us that day, and we knew that he was meditating on how he and all his tribe had been imposed on by the wretch Roderick. So we journeyed on until at last we stood at the foot of the mountains, and with, before us, the town of the Shawnees. 'Twas a strange sight to our eyes!

All around a vast space sheltered or, at least, surrounded by countless trees, amongst which were the long-leaved pine, the great cypress and the greater cedar, with some sweet orange trees as well as myrtles and magnolias, we saw the Indian stockades, their great protections from man or beast. For over those pointed poles, topped in many cases with iron barbs, neither foeman nor fierce animal could spring or make their way through. Then, within these, there came the tents or houses of the ordinary fighting men, the latter being little huts, yet large enough, perhaps, for four or five to repose within. A circle of chiefs' tents succeeded next to these, the sheafs of poles gathered together at the top being decorated sometimes with banners, sometimes with gaudy silken drapery, sometimes, alas! with human heads from which the hair had been torn. That hair had another destination. It was to decorate the interior of the tents--to be gloated over by the savage chiefs within and by their squaws, or wives. In the middle of all was--regardlessly of the health of the encampment--a tomb of the chiefs, a horrid erection of wood in which the shrivelled remains were laid side by side to the number of a dozen, their heads towards the passers-by, their mummified bodies naked, and before them a wood fire burning--perhaps to dispel any vapours. Thus they lay in the exact interior of the camp, each one remaining there through the four seasons and then being buried in the earth. And to guard over and preserve them, as the savages thought, was a hideous painted figure of wood, rudely carved, which they call Kyvash, or the God of the Dead.

And now we were to learn what had been the amount of destruction done to the homes where we had all dwelt so peacefully and happily together; we of our party were to learn that which we had so much longed to know, namely, what had happened to those of our friends and neighbours who dwelt in and around Pomfret. For in that encampment we met other prisoners like ourselves who had been brought away by the detachments of the band who had stormed their houses. We saw, alas! the best of our men captives in the hands of the savages. Seated on a log outside a tent, his hands tied cruelly behind his back, I saw Bertram Pringle, a fair-haired young man who was the leader of all the diversions of our neighbourhood, and the best dancer as well as sportsman for miles around. There, too, was Roger Clibourne, one of our largest estate owners and wealthiest of planters; there was one of the Byrds of Westover (he being sadly wounded) as well as several rough backwoodsmen, who must have fought hard ere they surrendered; and many other owners and white servants were also prisoners. But, I thanked God, there were no other women but ourselves, and my cousin was not, as the wretch Roderick had said, amongst them.

"Why, Joice," said Roger, calling to me as I passed by with the others, "why, my dear"--we had grown up boy and girl together--"this is, indeed, a sorry sight. Oh! Mr. Kinchella, could you not put a bullet in their brains or a knife to their throats ere you let Joice and your sweetheart be captured and brought here."

"Hush! Hush!" I said to him, pausing on my way, as we all did, our guards making no resistance. "Hush! Indeed, I think we are in no such great danger. Anuza, the chief, who stormed my house, has found out that their great medicine man, who was undoubtedly the instigator of the attack upon us all, is none other than that horrid villain, Roderick St. Amande."

"Roderick St. Amande!" the others, including the backwoodsmen, exclaimed, "Roderick St. Amande. Nay, 'tis impossible."

"Indeed, indeed 'tis true. We of our party have all seen him and spoken with him; nay, heard him gloat over all the horrors of the attack and threaten us with what awaits us here. But, but--the chief heard him too, and also heard Mary denounce him, and, I think, he meditates worse against him than any of us because he hath deceived them so."

"Is your chief powerful enough to do thus?" Bertram Pringle asked. "Ours, our captor, is, we have heard, the head of the whole tribe and the greatest friend of their medicine man. Suppose he believes not what your conqueror tells him?"

"Then," said Buck, "we will give him some proofs that shall make him believe. I can do any trick Mr. Roderick St. Amande can, either with cards, palming, or what not, and if they place faith in him for any of his hanky-panky, hocus-pocus passes, why, they'll fall down and worship me! I wasn't the conjurer at many a booth for nothing before I took to more elevating pursuits."

And now the lads asked us how we had parted from that other one of whom I thought hourly and only--though they knew it not!--and when I told them how I had left him wounded and bleeding their sorrow was great. But they said that, if the Indians did not proceed to any violence towards us, a rescue must be attempted before long, since every other hamlet and town would know by now what had befallen us of Pomfret, and doubtless an expedition would soon set out to seek for us.

So we passed on to where our guards led us, namely, to a great tent made of hay and straw, and then we composed ourselves for the night and, after Mr. Kinchella had said a prayer for our safety in which we most fervently joined, got what sleep we might. But once during that night I woke and then screamed aloud, for as I turned my eyes to the opening of the tent I saw, gazing in, the horrid face of Roderick St. Amande, and his own eyes gloating over us. But at my scream, and almost ere the others were aroused, the face was withdrawn, and nothing more was seen at the opening but the figure of the Indian sentry outside as he paced to and fro in the moonlight, and nought heard but the soft fall of his moccasined feet on the earth, or sometimes the cry of an Indian child or dog.

That the next day was to be one of great importance was easy to see from the moment it dawned. Towards a belt of pines which grew upon the rise of the hills there were already proceeding groups of Indians, some bearing in their hands the skins of animals and blankets dyed divers colours; banners, too, were being affixed to the trees as though in preparation for some great feast. We noted, also, that many of the Indian women and maidens--with, alas! amongst them some girls and women who were not Indian born, but white women--were finely dressed as though for a gala. As we ate of the food which our guards brought us--though three, at least, of our little band had no appetite for it--the door was darkened by the form of Anuza, and, a moment later, his great body stood within the tent, while we observed that he, too, was now arrayed in all the handsome trappings that bespoke the rank of a great chief. His short-sleeved tunic of dressed deer-skin was ornamented with the polished claws of his totem, the Grizzly Bear; on the shield he bore were the same emblems; even his long black hair, twisted up now like a coronet beneath his plumed bonnet of feathers, was decorated with one claw set in gold. In his wampum belt, fringed and tasselled with bright shells, he carried a long knife and a pair of pistols richly inlaid with silver and ivory-won, doubtless, in some earlier foray with our race--at his back hung down a bleached bearskin cloak to which, by a sash or loop, were suspended his tomahawk and bow. As I gazed on him I understood, if I had never understood before, what our forefathers meant when sometimes they spoke of the Indian as a splendid, or a noble, savage.

Behind him, borne upon a litter by two other Indians, came one the like of whom I had never seen, an old Indian of surely a hundred years of age; his eyes gone and, in their place, nought but the white balls to be observed. His head, with still some few sparse hairs left on it, bent on his breast, his hands were shrivelled like unto those of the mummies of which I have read, and his body, even on so hot a day as this, was enveloped in a great bearskin adorned with the gay plumage of many bright-coloured birds.

As Anuza strode into the tent, or Wigwam, leaving the old man outside in the sun, he made a grave salutation to us all; but it seemed directed to me more especially, and then he said:

"Peace be with you all. And, white maiden," he went on, addressing me, while to my surprise he bent his knee before me, "though death awaits you and yours to-day, yet it shall not claim you while the Bear is by. Nor, had I known that which he, my father, has told me, should the hand of Anuza have been raised against you or your house, or aught within it." While, as he spoke, I gazed wonderingly at him, not knowing what his words might mean.