CHAPTER X
OUR MEDICINE GROWS STRONGER
The Shawnees' anxiety to start for the Ohio almost became a panic. Thetragic manner in which they had been robbed of their victim, the screamingdefiance of young Cousin, together with their losses in warriors,convinced them something was radically wrong with their war-medicine.Outwardly Black Hoof remained calm but I knew he was greatly worried. Hismedicine had designated Dale for the torture, and then had permitted abullet to release the man.
Nor was it any small influence which the girl's condition exerted in thisdesire to retreat. She seemed to be stunned. She walked about, but withoutappearing to hear or see her captors. There was none of the savages whodid not believe her terrible scream prefaced her crossing thedividing-line between reason and insanity.
As an insane person she was under the special protection of the greatmanito, and black woe to him who interfered with her. The chief was eagerto abandon her to be picked up by the settlers at Howard's Creek, but sheclung tenaciously to Cousin's sister. The latter displayed no emotion overthis preference, yet she did not repulse the girl. She even was gentle incaring for her.
Ward was for finishing me out of hand, but Black Hoof insisted I shouldcarry packs and make myself useful before being dispensed with. Then againI would be something to display at the villages and something to danceabout when it came to appeasing the ghosts of the slain warriors. We brokecamp that night, and with malicious ingenuity Ward strapped packs on myshoulders until my back buckled. As he finished and was promising tothrust his knife into my legs if I displayed any weariness, Cousin'ssister came up and sharply directed him to remove the packs as I was toserve as a litter-bearer.
"The white woman asks for him," she said. "Catahecassa gives him to me tohelp carry the medicine-woman."
Ward raged, but Black Hoof upheld the girl; and although I knew Patriciawas too insensible of her surroundings to ask for any one, I was keen toserve her. Lost Sister had fashioned a rude litter out of rawhide and twosaplings, slack between the poles so the girl could not roll out. To mysurprise she stepped between the saplings at the forward end and called onme to pick up the other end and march. I considered it to be a man's work,but she made nothing of it, and never called a halt that she might rest.
In the morning the hunters brought in some deer-meat and turkeys, and wecamped long enough to eat. Once more Ward endeavored to prevail upon thechief to put me out of the way. He played upon Black Hoof's superstitionsvery cunningly by declaring the war-medicine would be very weak until Iwas killed. The chief was impressed, else he never would have come tostare at me.
It happened, however, that Patricia was delirious, and it was my hand onher head that seemed to quiet her. Lost Sister told a noble lie byvolunteering the information that it was my presence that kept the girlquiet. Black Hoof and his braves had a great fear of the girl when shebegan her rambling talk. They believed she was surrounded by ghosts andtalking with them. So Ward's request was refused, and stern orders weregiven that I should not be harmed. When the home villages were reached, headded, I might be burned.
When we made our second camp on the Kanawha I called Black Hoof to me. Ihad been staked out in spread-eagle fashion and my guards had placedsaplings across my body and were preparing to lie down on the ends at eachside of me. I assured the chief there was no danger of my running away, asmy medicine would wither and die, did I forsake the great manito's child;and I asked him to relieve me of the cords and saplings. He told thewarriors to omit the cords.
The next time we halted to snatch a few hours' sleep he ordered that nomore saplings be placed across me, that it would be sufficient to tie myankles and wrists. This was a great relief. During this portion of themarch the girl seemed oblivious to her surroundings, also to the fact thatshe was a captive. She showed a strong preference for Lost Sister'scompany, and would glance about worriedly if the young woman left hersight.
So it devolved on the two of us, both white, to care for her. There weretimes when she babbled of faraway scenes, of Williamsburg and her oldhome, of the streets of Norfolk and Richmond. She talked with those shehad known as children. When in this condition the Indians were glad tokeep away from us. Even Ward would not willingly remain within hearing ofher sweet voice could he avoid so doing. And alas! There were other timeswhen she was almost violent, when only Lost Sister could soothe and quiether.
By the time we reached the mouth of the Great Kanawha no guard was keptover me that I could perceive; nor were my limbs any longer bound atnight. At each camp Lost Sister ranged the woods and brought in roots andherbs and made strange-smelling messes in a camp kettle and assiduouslydosed the girl.
Rafts were quickly knocked together and the crossing made to the Indianshore. I had expected the band to dig out hidden canoes and descend to themouth of the Scioto. Instead we struck into a trail across-country. Thepath was well worn, and the fork we followed ended at the Scioto aboveChillicothe, the principal Shawnee town.
Much of the distance Patricia walked, although the litter was taken alongfor her convenience. Lost Sister talked with me at times and I began tofeel that the barrier between us was much lower. But she never spoke ofthe settlements or her brother. Her talk was always a red talk and shenever addressed me except in Shawnee.
From her I learned we were making for Cornstalk's Town, some twenty-fivemiles above Chillicothe, located on Scippo Creek. Among border men thisregion was known as the Pickaway Plains. Near our destination wasGrenadier Squaw's Town, named after Cornstalk's gigantic sister.
I suffered no incivility during the overland march. My status became thatof an attendant on the great manito's medicine-child. Patricia continuedin a dazed state of mind, but after two days of arduous travel I detectedher weeping. Lost Sister enigmatically warned:
"She is another woman. She is more like the woman she once was. She mustkeep close to her manito."
I could interpret this only to mean that the girl was recovering from hermental shock and was recalling bits of the past, and that she was safeonly so long as the savages believed her to be insane. At our last campfrom Cornstalk's Town Patricia insisted on walking beside me when thetrace would permit it and she startled me by saying:
"My father was good to me."
"Do you remember me?" I asked.
"Remember you, Basdel? Why, of course. What a queer question." Then with alittle frown she sighed and complained. "But I don't understand why I amhere with you and these Indians. I wonder if it is a bad dream, if I willsoon wake up."
I blundered along the best I could, striving to say nothing which mightupset her. She suddenly refused to talk and began displaying much physicalnervousness. Lost Sister promptly took her in hand and led her somedistance in advance of me. That was the day the band split up, the bulk ofthe warriors leaving to go to their different villages. Half a dozenremained to press on to Cornstalk's Town.
Ward was among those who left us and he was unwilling to go. His departurewas a great relief to me. His presence frightened the girl, although shegave no sign of remembering him as having been a factor in her life. Itwas due entirely to Lost Sister's appeal to Black Hoof that the renegadewas ordered to Chillicothe.
As he was leaving us he promised me:
"I'll yet see you eating fire. That white squaw will see me again."
"I'll dance your mangy scalp some time," I retorted.
Whereat he used terms of abuse he had picked up from traders, and I struckhim with my fist. Black Hoof stopped him from killing me, and threatenedme with torture if I offended again. Then he ordered Ward to go.
The chief continued with us to Cornstalk's Town, but Cornstalk was notthere; so he went in search of him at Grenadier Squaw's Town. Beforeleaving he gave orders that I was not to be molested so long as I did notattempt to escape. The town was inhabited by women and children largely,with a dozen men left to act as hunters.
It was plain that the fighting men of the tribe were gathering somewhere,probably at Chillicothe. Patricia was b
elieved to be in touch with themanito, and was feared and respected accordingly. The days that followedwere not unhappy for me; and Patricia appeared to be contented in a numbsort of way.
My own reaction to the anxieties and fears of our captivity devitalized meto a certain degree, I believed; else, I would not have been contented tosettle down to the drowsy existence of village life. I did no hunting. Iwas a companion to the girl when she wished for my company. Aside fromthat capacity the Indians looked on me as if I had been a tree.
I talked on general subjects with Lost Sister, always waiting for her toblaze the trace our words were to follow. Her red husband remained alooffrom her from the day she took charge of Patricia. Whether he resented hercompanionship with us I do not know, and after our arrival he disappearedfor a time.
I discovered I was lacking in curiosity as to what each morrow had instore for us. It savored of the indifference of the fatalist. But I didcome to the alert when I observed Patricia was rapidly returning tonormal. I remembered Lost Sister's warning, "She must keep close to hermanito." I was forced to repeat these words to her.
It was one of the hardest tasks I ever undertook. She suffered deeply whenshe began to grasp my meaning. She began to remember things concretely.Yet life was the stake, and the fact that my life was also involved helpedher much. With the aid of Lost Sister I taught her how to be ever on herguard, how to carry herself when in the presence of the silent but everwatchful Indians.
Once the shock wore off somewhat she found it was not difficult to keep upher role. The most effective way to allay any suspicion was for her totalk aloud to herself. The savages believed she was holding conversationwith inmates of the invisible world, and drew away from her. But while sheimproved, my lethargy continued. My physical and mental strength seemed tobe sapped. I was content to lie on the bank of the creek, my mind idlingwith vagaries.
Some six weeks passed in this desultory fashion, then Cornstalk and BlackHoof returned to the village with three warriors and a negro woman. Thewoman had been captured at Sapling Grove within three hundred yards ofCaptain Evan Shelby's house, the woman told me. She also informed me thather captors were led by a very large man, much whiter than any of hiscompanions, and that he talked good English.
This description fitted either John Logan or Will Emery, the Cherokeehalf-breed. I decided the man was Logan. The woman was treated kindly.Immediately on arrival the two chiefs retired to a wigwam for a long talk.Then Black Hoof sent for me and Patricia. I warned her to pay no attentionto them, and to talk much to herself. She acted admirably and was kept inthe wigwam only a few minutes.
Cornstalk had watched her closely, and both he and Black Hoof were uneasyand relieved when she departed. Toward me their manner was incisive, andthey demanded certain information. As I knew conditions had changed vastlysince I was captured I talked freely and improvised considerably. Therewas no military value whatever to the news that I imparted.
Cornstalk, who was a large man and of a commanding appearance, andpossessing unusual intellectual powers, was keen to learn aboutindividuals, especially about Daniel Boone. He asked how many men Boonecould lead against the Shawnees. I told him all the border men would beglad to serve under him, that he was collecting fighting men when I wastaken prisoner.
"Your tongue is split," Cornstalk warned. "Be careful, or we will say thatyoung medicine-woman does not need a liar to care for her. Be careful, oryour tongue will be pulled out. The Shawnees will be glad to warmthemselves at your fire. That man was sent to the Falls of the Ohio. Hehas returned to the settlements. He commands three forts in the lowervalleys. Will he head riflemen to battle, or stay at the forts?"
I truthfully answered that I believed he would be given an importantcommand. And I explained how Colonel Lewis would be over him as he wouldbe over many other brave leaders. They knew Lewis and feared him. Theirfaces were very glum until I repeated Connolly's message to Charles Lewisthat peace with the tribes was very possible. Then they smiled grimly andCornstalk informed me.
"Your Dunmore ordered his Long Knives to march against Shawnee towns tensleeps after you were captured."[5]
I was startled at the information and glanced through the opening of thewigwam as if expecting to see the lean militia men breaking from thewoods. The chief added:
"But they seem to have trouble in starting. Perhaps they are very old menand can not walk fast. I shall send my young men across the Ohio to digthem out of the mud."
"The Cherokees will not join the Shawnees," I ventured.
Cornstalk eyed me menacingly.
"They will not because they have old women among them. They put theirpowder in bags, and put the bags in caves. Their powder is spoiled. AfterI whip your army the Cherokees will carry their axes into the Carolinas."
I believed the Cherokees would do this, if our army were whipped. Turningto Black Hoof, Cornstalk asked:
"How long before you roast this white man?"
"After we have whipped the army of Dunmore and Lewis and Boone. Now hewaits on the medicine-woman. After the battle there will be many whitewomen to wait on her."
I was dismissed and on reaching the open air I discovered I had left allmy apathy behind me. The importance of time and the imperative need ofimmediate action was burned into my brain by Black Hoof's words. I soughtPatricia and found her seated on the bank, staring into the sluggishwaters.
"I was thinking of you, Basdel," she greeted, and she reached her hand tome. "I was remembering what I said in Salem about your rifle. I'm sorry. Idid wrong."
"Heavens, child! Abuse the rifle all you will!"
"It was abuse of you and of all that your rifle stood for. I mocked youbecause you were from the border. Poor father! He knew many Indians, buthe did not understand them. Town ways seem mighty small and of no accountnow."
"Patsy, you must get a grip on yourself. We must get clear of this villageat once. We must get back to Virginia."
She shivered and her eyes dilated as she stared at me and she muttered:
"I dread the woods, the silence, the darkness. The wolves howling atnight. Worst of all is the creeping horror of being chased. No! No! Ican't stand any more, Basdel. The black horror comes over me when I letmyself think of it. The dank woods--the silence--the awful stealth ofnight. No, no, Basdel. Let me die here."
"Patsy, grip yourself! You can't stay among these beggars. They think youare insane. That's why they've spared you. But there's going to be abattle soon. If they win they'll bring many prisoners here. You must notbe here then."
She interrupted me with a little heart-broken cry and clapped her hands toher eyes to blot out some horrid picture. It was harsh, but the way shewas inclining led to permanent madness.
"We will steal away and make the Ohio. The Indians are busy planning forthe big battle. They'll not spare many men to seek us. I will take youback to Virginia and across the mountains."
"Or we will both die," she whispered. "That wouldn't be bad. To die and beout of it all--But I mustn't speak for you, Basdel."
"You speak for both of us," I comforted. "Death isn't terrible. This is."And I swept my hand in a half-circle at the Shawnee wigwams forming thevillage. "Say nothing to Cousin's sister. I will make my plans at once. Agun, some powder and lead, and then we will go."
"And never come back to them alive?" she insisted, and she leaned forwardand stared intently into my eyes.
"Never alive, sweetheart."
"That is much better," she quietly remarked. "And here comes my sister.She has been very good to me. I wish we could take her with us. Over themountains, or to death."
"She refused to go over the mountains with her brother. We must tell hernothing," I warned.
Lost Sister gave me a quick glance as she came up. She gazed at Patriciain silence for a moment, then warned:
"The white woman must keep close to her manito. The eyes of the eagle andthe ears of the fox are in this village."
"She is having bad thoughts," I told her. "Lead her thoughts through n
ewpaths."
As I strolled away I heard her beginning a Shawnee myth, in which it wasexplained why the wet-hawk feeds while flying, and how the smallturkey-buzzard got its tufted head.
According to the notches cut in my long stick it was the first day ofSeptember. Now that Cornstalk was back and in conference with Black Hoofthe village became a center of importance. Notable chiefs and medicine-menof the northern tribes began to assemble. Lost Sister pointed out to mePuck-e-shin-wa, father of a six-year-old boy, who was to become one of themost remarkable Indian characters in our history, under the name ofTecumseh.
Young Ellinipsico, son of Cornstalk, was there, gay in his war-trappingsand eager for the battle. Blue Jacket, another famous Shawnee chief andwarrior, was in attendance. Of the allied tribes I saw Chiyawee theWyandot, Scoppathus the Mingo, Redhawk the Delaware, and most interestingof all, John Logan, chief of the Mingos.
He was the son of a French man, who was adopted by the Oneidas, but healways claimed kin to the Cayuga, the term "Mingo" being loosely appliedby our border men to any fragments of the Iroquois living outside the LongHouse in New York Province. Logan came and went inside an hour, spendingall his time in a secret conference with Cornstalk.
I saw him as he strode through the little village, looking neither toright nor left, saturnine of countenance. He showed his white blood, beingmuch lighter in complexion than the full-bloods. A warrior walked behindhim, carrying his gun. The chief himself carried a long wand decoratedwith the ten or twelve scalps he had taken since Baker and Greathousemassacred his people at Baker's Bottom.
Young Cherokees, stolen away from their nation to be in at the death ofthe white race in Virginia, were present without leaders. Black Hoof'slong absence from the villages was explained when a full score Ottawasfiled into the opening and sang their war-song. Their spokesman loudlyannounced that they were but the advance of many of their tribe.
I feared I had waited too long, and was much relieved to learn from LostSister that warriors and chiefs were to move to Chillicothe at once andthere await the coming of the western bands. Their going would leave ourvillage practically deserted except for aged and broken men and the womenand children.
Lost Sister said her husband was eager to take the path, and that it wasCornstalk's plan to cross the Ohio instead of waiting to be attacked inhis own country. She was vague as to the chief's exact plans once he hadcrossed the river, but by joining her brief statements together I was ledto believe Cornstalk had learned that the Virginia forces had been splitinto two armies, and that the masterly red strategist planned to surpriseand annihilate one, and then attack the second. This information alone wasof sufficient importance for me to risk my life many times in order toapprise my superiors of the trap being set for them.
By the time the sun was half-way down the afternoon sky all the chiefswere moving down the river bound for Chillicothe. Young Ellinipsico and amixed band of warriors were left to arrange for guarding the girl. Hewould depart for Chillicothe on the morrow. I went in search of the girland met Lost Sister standing by a big honey-tree. She asked me if I hadseen her husband, and looked worried when I shook my head.
"He said he would not go without seeing me, and yet he is not here in thevillage. Your white woman--she walks far from her manito. It is bad forher."
"She must leave here," I boldly said. "I must take her away." I had had nointention of taking her into my confidence, but I realized it would beimpossible to make a start without her missing the girl. So I took thedesperate course and did what I had warned Patricia not to do.
She drew her knife and cut some straight marks on the honey-tree.
"You see those?" she asked.
I bowed my head. Without explaining the relevancy of her question, sheturned and walked rapidly toward the village. I stared at the marks andthey told me nothing. There was nothing pictorial about them. I followedher among the wigwams, and was in time to see her leading Patricia intoher wigwam. I sauntered after them, obsessed by the notion that strangeforces were at work. The village seemed to be quiet and sleepy and yet theair was surcharged with threats of things about to happen.
When the storm broke it was from a quarter entirely different fromanything I could have imagined. My first intimation that something unusualwas happening was when a Shawnee ran into the village and began talking toEllinipsico, who was lounging sleepily on the grass before his father'swigwam. I heard Ellinipsico exclaim:
"He must not be hurt. He has felt the hand of the great manito on hishead."
I looked about for a weapon, so that I might go down fighting, for I firstthought the stranger Indians were demanding me for a plaything, notunderstanding my true status as servant to the medicine-woman. I knew thiswas not the solution of the affair when Ellinipsico jumped to his feet andran to the edge of the village, at every bound shouting to the Ottawas tohurry back to the village.
A loud outcry answered him from the forest. To my amazement Ellinipsicoslowed down his mad pace and appeared to be reluctant to enter the woods.The few Shawnees and Mingos in the village followed his example intimidity. Then above the war-cry of the Ottawas rose the roar of BabyKirst, punctuated by the crack of a rifle and the death-yell of a savage.
Now I understood. The Ottawas, ignorant of Kirst's condition, had met himblundering through the woods and had essayed to halt his progress. Hepromptly had offered fight, and they were at it, with the odds greatly infavor of the Indians. In my excitement I ran to where Ellinipsico stood.He was dancing with rage and fright. Beholding me, he ordered me to diveinto the growth and stop the fight.
I glanced back and saw Lost Sister and Patricia leaving the wigwam. LostSister began leading her charge toward the south end of the village andjerked her head at me as though calling on me to follow. It was driveninto my mind that this was the time to escape with the girl. I plungedinto the woods and no Indian cared to dog my steps.
I made as if to go to the scene of the fearful confusion, but once out ofsight of Ellinipsico and his men I turned to intercept the course taken byLost Sister and Patricia. I miscalculated the distance, or else thecombatants made a rapid shift of ground, for before I knew it I wasstanding on the edge of a most ferocious struggle. Kirst was still mountedand bleeding from a dozen wounds. His long rifle was being swung for aclub.
My first view of him was as he splintered the butt on an Ottawa head. Hebawled in triumph. The Ottawas, expecting no diversion so near thevillage, were armed only with their knives and axes. A fellow leaped on tothe horse and tried to stab him from behind, and one immense hand reachedback and caught him by the neck and held him in midair, and squeezed thelife from the painted body, and then hurled him among the remainingwarriors.
The girl must come first, but it was not in my heart to pass withoutcontributing something to Kirst's advantage. I snatched up a war-club,dropped by a slain savage, and hurled it into the thick of them, bowlingover two. Kirst's horse went down, disemboweled. Now Kirst was at a greatdisadvantage, but his long arms gathered up two of the Ottawas, and Iheard their ribs crack, as with a pleased grunt the simple fellowcontracted his embrace.
But now they were piling upon him, striking and stabbing, a living moundwhich for the moment concealed the big fellow. Then the mass began todisintegrate, and savages staggered back and fell dead, or suffering fromterrible wounds. Kirst rose to his feet only to fall on his face as ifshot through the head, although he received no wound at the time that Icould perceive.
My last glance was fleeting, but it sufficed to count six silent forms ofOttawas who would never cross the Ohio to attack Lord Dunmore's armies.One Indian, gasping with pain, with both arms hanging like rags, lurchedby me but not seeing me, his gaping mouth trying to sound his death-song.Ellinipsico was calling on his men to follow him, and I sped away.
Baby Kirst had fulfilled his destiny and would babble his way through theforests no more. The force which had destroyed his reason had paid thefull price the law of compensation had worked out.
Could I find
the girl without returning to the village I hoped theconfusion resulting from the bloody struggle would permit me to steal awaywith her. I swung back toward the opening and soon discovered Patricia andLost Sister. The latter on beholding me called me by name, the first timeshe had ever done so. As I ran to them she fiercely said:
"Take your white woman and go! Cross the Ohio but do not go up theKanawha. Follow the Guyandotte or Sandy, into the valley of the Clinch.You must hurry!"
As if the day had not been hideous enough a bepainted warrior burstthrough the undergrowth as she finished, with his bow raised and an arrowdrawn to the head. Beneath the war vermilion, I recognized Lost Sister'shusband. She threw out her arms and smiled scornfully and cried:
"You hide in the bushes to watch me? I thought so."
Then she was down with an arrow buried to the feathers.
I leaped into the bushes and grappled with the murderer before he coulddraw another arrow from his quiver. He dropped his bow and endeavored tohurl me to the ground. As we whirled about I saw Patricia kneeling besideLost Sister and striving to pet her back to life. One glimpse, and thenall my attention was needed for my adversary. He was quicker than I, andhis freshly oiled body made him hard to hold; but I was far the stronger.
"His knife, Basdel; Look out;" screamed Patricia; and I was glad to notethere was no madness in her voice.
I had him by his right wrist, my left arm shoved under his chin and intohis red throat. The girl's gaze sent my gaze downward. He was trying towork the knife from its sheath before I could force him backward or breakhis neck. But the sheath was too long for the knife and he could not reachthe handle with his fingers until he had forced the blade upward bypinching the tip of the sheath. I did not try to interfere with hismaneuver, but settled myself solidly to hold him from escaping.
"The knife, Basdel!" she shrilly repeated. Then she nearly upset mycalculations by trying to thrust a bough between my foe's feet. Only by animble maneuver did I escape being tripped; but it was heartening to knowPatricia could respond to my needs.
"Stand clear!" I panted. "I have him!"
"But the knife!" she despairingly cried.
"He's getting it for me!" I replied.
Now he had managed to work the haft clear of the leather and his left handwas closing on it. His eyes told me that much. Instantly I changed mytactics. I dropped my left arm to seize his left wrist. I released hisright wrist and with my free hand tore the weapon from his grasp. Hestruck me in the head with his free fist, but I felt it none as he did nothave the white man's trick of delivering a buffet. We went down side byside, and by the time we had rolled over once he was dead by his ownknife.
Retaining the weapon, I ran to Patricia as she collapsed by the side ofthe dying woman.
"I am all right! Get up!" I commanded.
Cousin's sister smiled grimly, and whispered:
"He has been watching us. He saw me come here when I scratched the tree.He has been hiding--The marks I made on the honey-tree--Look behindit--the pea-vines--. Tell Shelby I send him a little sister--" And she hadsolved all her problems, and had passed into the compassion of the manitowhose gentleness and understanding surpass all comprehension.
Patricia was weeping softly, as one who sorrows with an aching heart, butnot as one who is afraid. I gathered her up in my arms and made for thehoney-tree close by. I stood her on her feet, and exhorted her to be braveas the time had come for us to take to flight. I plunged into thepea-vines behind the tree. A new thrill of life fired me as I fished outmy own rifle, a powder-horn, shot-pouch and linen patches. Cousin's sisterhad even remembered to provide a roll of buckskin and an awl for mendingour moccasins, and a small package of smoked meat.
Thus armed once more I took the girl's hand and stole through the woods,following the well-beaten path that led to Chillicothe, and planning toswing to the east and skirt the town under the cover of darkness. Idesired to emerge on the Ohio at a point opposite the mouth of the BigSandy. For some time we could hear the wailing and howling of the Shawneesin Cornstalk's Town as they mourned for the dead Ottawas, and Patricia wassadly frightened. My ears were tingling for fear they would catch the cryof discovery, but young Ellinipsico was there instead of Black Hoof, andour flight was undiscovered.
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[5] Expedition against Indian towns ordered July 24th. Boone returned from Kentucky to the settlements August 27th.