CHAPTER XX--DELIVERED TO THE DELAWARES
The effort it cost John Jerome to conceal his astonishment and hischagrin as he encountered the savages hurrying toward the scene of theexplosion, from which he was hastening away, would be hard to describe.But he controlled himself sufficiently to say:
"Hello, here, brothers! Don't go up there or you may get blown sky high!My powder pouch fell into the' fire, and it tore things up to beat theDutch."
With this greeting and hastily given explanation of his being foundrunning away, the boy was starting on, thinking to be gone before theIndians had recovered from their own surprise; but in this he wasdisappointed. One fellow seized his hand, as if merely to shake it infriendly salutation, but continued to hold it and would not let him takeit away. Quickly the other savages gathered near and, though but a fewseconds had passed, John saw that he was a prisoner and that his escapewas intentionally cut completely off.
The situation seemed to give the Indians vastly more pleasure than itgave Jerome. Their amusement and delight made itself manifest in curiousways. One, with a great show of interest, took the boy's rifle from himand pretended to examine it as though it were some very rare specimen.Another did likewise with his pistols, while a third bore off his powderhorn. Still others playfully rapped their victim's shins and head withtheir gun barrels, driving him at last to such desperation that when oneparticularly playful fellow pricked him suddenly from behind with aknife-point, he wheeled and with clenched fist sent the redskinsprawling among the leaves.
The savage retaliated with the butt of his rifle, but now the partystarted on, two of them leading John between them, and for the time theannoyances ceased. The Indians went at once to the spot where theexplosion had occurred, plainly marked in the gathering gloom by theremnants of the campfire. They inspected the locality with considerableinterest. There was little to see, however, and in a short time theywere under way again. Their course, John was sorry to see, was in thedirection of the Delaware village on the lake.
Not until darkness made it quite impossible to go further did thesavages pause. They chose as a camping place a slight depression in theground, among some maples. The wind had gathered a deep drift of autumnleaves here, and as the captive lay down between two of the captors, hefound his bed not otherwise uncomfortable. A long piece of untannedbuckskin had been tied about his waist, however, and as its loose endswere tied to the waists of the Indians beside him, he realized thatescape would be all but impossible.
John had had abundant opportunity to study the Indians while on themarch, but the fading light had made it impossible to see themdistinctly. There were seven in the party, all young, active fellows,and all strangers. They were Shawnees, John decided. Where they hadbeen, and whither they were going he could not guess. He did know thatit would be pleasanter lying between the two redskins who guarded him,if they would but give him more room, and he knew that the paintbedecking the band was no sign of good. Not wholly hopeless, however, hefell asleep at last, wondering what Ree was doing.
With daylight's coming the Indians kindled a fire and broiled somevenison. They allowed their prisoner to eat all he wished, nor for thepresent was he tortured further with such antics as had been indulged inthe night before. No haste was made to break camp and be on the moveagain by the band, but to the contrary, they were very deliberate in allthey did. During the morning they held a council and, though they spokein guarded tones, John knew that he was the subject of their talk.
The captive was glad to believe that none of the Indians knew him. Theywould be for taking him directly to the Delaware town, to place him at,the mercy of Lone-Elk, if they were aware of the charge against him, hewas certain. If the savages asked him anything, he would in self-defensebe bound to deceive them. Thinking of this made John think of deceivingthe band still further. He would cause the savages to believe that hewas from Detroit, a British spy sent to ascertain the extent of Wayne'sforces, and, of course, friendly to the Indians.
The boy's opportunity to put his plan into practice came rather soonerthan he expected. Within a few minutes one of the redskins who had theirheads together in conference, came to him and asked in very fair Englishwho he was and what he was doing in the woods so far from thesettlements.
"It's about time you were finding out, I think," John answered, with ashow of injured innocence. "At Detroit we are taught to believe that theEnglish and the Indians are brothers. We both hate the Americans, whoare robbing all the tribes of the Northwest just as they robbed theEastern tribes long ago, yet when my chief sends me to find out whatmoves the Americans are making to march into the forests of the Indians,lo! a party of my red brothers seize me and treat me as a prisoner!"
The savage to whom John addressed his words of well-feigned righteouswrath looked puzzled, then a grin spread itself slowly over his lips. Hesummoned the other Indians and told them, in substance, what the captivesaid. Then in a tongue John did not understand he added a few wordswhich made them all smile.
Very much afraid that in some way he had gotten himself into apredicament, with his hastily concocted story, the lad felt at heartthat he might have fared as well if he had told the truth; but havingmade a start upon a different road he was unwilling to turn back.
Even when one of the redskins began to question him as to when he hadleft Detroit, and with whom and by what route he had traveled, hemaintained his air of offended friendship, and answered as best hecould. Asked the name of the person in command at Detroit at the time heleft, he promptly answered, "Col. John Jenkins, and you ought to knowit, if you know anything about Detroit at all."
John used the first name which came to him in replying to this question,and he answered many others just as rashly. From appearing puzzled thesavages now seemed mightily amused. The prisoner noted the fact withchagrin, but stuck resolutely to his original story. The climax came,however, when he was asked if there had been much snow at Detroit whenhe left.
"Why, no; not much to speak of," he promptly answered.
The Indians looked at one another and grinned. Then one of them turnedto him.
"Paleface heap big liar," he said.
"Why? Why am I? Because I said that there wasn't much snow? Well therewasn't! Of course there was lots of snow, but it wasn't any seven oreight feet deep!"
"One heap big fool liar," the redskin reiterated.
The Indians seemed to have satisfied themselves completely as to thetruthfulness of the prisoner. They gave his words no further attention,and how bitterly crestfallen, and in his heart ashamed and disgraced, hefelt, no one knew so well as he, as they turned away to resume theirconference.
John realized that he had probably made bad matters worse. Seeing howanxious he was to deceive them, the redskins would be more thanordinarily distrustful of him and perhaps conclude that he was one who,for some reason, was particularly hostile to them. They asked him nomore questions now, but appeared to guard him even more closely thanbefore.
John thought so, at least, for his mind was turning with increasedattentiveness to the possibility of escape. Not the slightest prospectthat a favorable opportunity would come to him did he see, however, andwhen the Indians resumed their journey a little later, he was putbetween the two most villainous looking fellows in the band.
The course the savages took, in starting off this time, was slightlydifferent from that pursued the night before. As nearly as John couldreckon it would, if continued, land them, at the end of two or threedays, at the "Crossing Place of the Muskingum," the point at which theGreat Trail from Pittsburg to Detroit crossed the Muskingum river. Wherethis particular party of savages did eventually find themselves, though,John Jerome never knew, nor did he ever learn definitely that they hadcome from Detroit, as he suspected.
The reason for this presented itself the second day after thecross-questioning of the prisoner and the wretched failure of his effortto deceive. The Indians encamped at noon, after a leisurely journeythrough a fine forest country, beside a little spring bu
bbling fromunder the very trunk of a mammoth oak. They lingered here several hoursand while they waited a party of five bucks from Captain Pipe's townchanced suddenly upon them.
John recognized the fellows immediately. He knew, too, that theyrecognized him, though they did not at once pay any attention to him. Itwas not until after quite extensive greetings between them and the sevenwarriors in the Shawnee party, in fact, that they bestowed even a lookupon the prisoner. Then they turned toward him with grins of maliciouspleasure.
Having learned that their prisoner was none other than the "witch," ofwhom they had heard as having been the cause of the death of that wellknown warrior, Big Buffalo, the Shawnees plainly regarded him now as adangerous individual. A little later he was the subject of a longconversation between the young Delawares and his captors and thewretched boy quickly discovered that his worst fears were realized. Forthe five from Pipe's town were anxious to have him taken to theirvillage, and the Shawnees appeared not to object.
At some length the Delawares told of the certain evidence Lone-Elk haddiscovered--the hatchet found in the corn--the very hatchet with whichBig Buffalo was killed, and of the long and fruitless search that hadbeen made for the "witch." They urged the Shawnees to come and see thePaleface burned, and the killing of one of the greatest warriors of theDelawares avenged.
In turn the band into whose merciless hands poor John had fallen told ofthe exciting times along the border, of burning and killing both bynight and by day. They told, too, of much powder and much lead which theIndians could obtain at Detroit, and two of them exhibited brand newrifles. While they were anxious to see the "witch" destroyed, they said,they did not wish to go to Pipe's town as they were on their way to afruitful source of plunder.
As John heard and understood a considerable part of the conversation, adetermination to escape or die in the attempt rapidly grew within him.And when he heard an agreement reached that he should be turned over tothe Delawares, while the Shawnees continued on their way, he set hismind intently upon the problem of getting away, or making an effort atleast, let the cost be what it might.
The Shawnees turned John over to the Delawares, after binding himsecurely, with many a kick and cuff. They particularly denounced him asa "forked-tongued witch," and worked themselves into such passions ofhatred that the prisoner was in imminent danger of being killed then andthere.
With his hands tied behind him, and led and dragged by a long rope ofrawhide about his neck, the captive was taken in charge by theDelawares, and the two Indian bands set off in different directions. Themission of the Shawnees, as has been stated, John never learned; but hewell knew the destination of the five young Delawares, and a lump ofpain and bitterness grew big in his throat as he thought of thecowardice and wretched injustice of it all.