CHAPTER XXIII--ONE MYSTERY CLEARED AWAY
It was daylight when with parting war-whoops the Indians left the sceneof the terrible fire they had kindled, dragging John Jerome by thethongs which bound him. But they took with them flames which threatenedeven greater danger to the Paleface boy--the fires of excitement, hateand merciless cruelty which the night's barbarities had kindled in theirbrains. John realized this full well. Though the savages had been roughand brutal in their treatment of him before, now they were still moreso. No indignity, no suffering was too great to be inflicted upon him.
Little wonder is it that on his own account poor John wished for but twothings--the slightest opportunity to escape, or the end of it allquickly. Only the thoughts of Return, and how his friend would besearching for him everywhere, as soon as news reached his ears, buoyedup the wretched lad's drooping spirits and gave him strength to endurethe cruelties heaped on his defenseless head.
Tired out after their night's carousal, most of the savages lay down torest upon their arrival at the village, and John was allowed also tosink into a troubled sleep, though watched constantly. It was about noonwhen he fully awoke, to find that something out of the ordinary wastaking place. By degrees he discovered what it was, learned that CaptainPipe had returned and that explanations were being made concerning theburning of the cabin.
Lone-Elk took upon himself the whole responsibility for the offense. TheLittle Paleface was a witch, he declared, and his brother, the WhiteFox, was a spy upon the Indians, and on the pretext of befriendingFishing Bird, had gone to Wayne's camp to carry word of the movements ofthe Delawares.
The Seneca would have put the loyalty of Fishing Bird himself to theDelawares in question had he dared to do so, but he gained his pointwithout it; gained all he sought--praise for his own loyalty to thecause of the Indians as a whole; no censure for the pillage anddestruction of the white boys' cabin, and last and greatest of all, theassurance that the captive, Little Paleface, would be put to death.
Let him be burned at the stake, Lone-Elk argued. Some of the youngerDelawares had never seen a prisoner suffer by fire. It would warm theirblood and teach them how to punish their enemies.
"By fire, then, let the witch be killed," Captain Pipe had ordered, andthe terrible sentence reached John Jerome in his guarded hut a littlelater.
Four warriors came. They roughly stripped him of all clothing exceptinghis fringed buckskin trousers, and painted his face and body black. Thushe was left for the time, as the hour of his torture was to be thefollowing morning. But he was told to prepare for death and formedbluntly that with the rising of another sun he would bid farewell toearth forever.
In vain did John ask to see Captain Pipe. The chief would not go nearhim. He asked for Gentle Maiden, knowing that she would intercede forhim if she could. No word was taken to her. He asked for Neohaw. The oldmedicine-man came. He heard the lad's appeal, and shook his head.
"Neohaw can do nothing," he declared. "Lone-Elk is in favor with all theDelawares and with their great chief, Hopocon. No one can help theLittle Paleface. Neohaw believes not that the Paleface brother killedBig Buffalo. Yet all the Delawares have harkened to the tale of theSeneca and the white boy must die. Let him then go bravely to the fire.Let him sing boldly to the last the death songs that his fathers taughthim."
John thanked the aged Indian for his sympathy and said no more. He didfeel better, somehow, to know that there was one friend left in thevillage, where so many times he had been received with greatest favor indays gone by, and resolved that if die he must, it would be bravely.
Something very like tears, however, dimmed his eyes as he thought of hisunhappy end. He held them back with an effort and, lest they come again,and be taken as evidence of fear or cowardice, he prayed for strength tomeet the awful fate he must suffer like a man. He breathed a prayer forcomfort for Ree Kingdom and for the dear ones in far-away Connecticut,when the news of his death should reach them.
It was night now. The Indians made the most of it. Their war cries, asonce again they engaged in the terrible dance, led, as always, by thebloodthirsty Seneca, were frightful. But to John Jerome a peace whichpasseth understanding had come, and with thoughts of all the happy dayshis young life, so soon to close, had known, and in his heart a trustingfaith that One who died for others would be with him to the end, he fellat last into soothing, restful slumber.
At dawn John awoke. The village was quiet. The two savages who stoodguard over him seemed to be the only ones not still asleep, save for atrio of squaws rekindling the fires before their wigwams. The air waschill and raw, but crows were cawing lustily, and a bluejay screechedhis harsh song near by. Soon the sun rose, pale but clear. It was apleasant morning to be alive, a most gloomy one to die.
Patiently the prisoner of the Delawares awaited the executioners. Theysoon would come, he thought, and nerved himself to meet them without atremor. His lip quivered the least bit and a lump came in his throat,but outwardly he was so calm that the Indians watching him marveled athis courage, and told one another in whispers that witches were morethan human.
The morning went quickly by. Expecting each minute to see Lone-Elk andothers coming for him, time seemed to John to go both slow and fast;slow, that no one came; fast, because each minute was so precious. Hopehad not wholly left him, either. It might be, even now, he thought, thatNeohaw or Gentle Maiden, or maybe Long-Hair or Little Wolf, hadsuccessfully interceded in his behalf.
At last two Indians came to relieve those who guarded the prisoner. TheDelawares were stirring about in numbers now. John asked the new guardsfor food and it was brought to him. Then Neohaw came. In a kindly way hetold the boy that the time of the burning had been changed and thetorture fire would not be lighted until night. Against Lone-Elk'swishes, Captain Pipe had decided on this, as he had no wish toparticipate in the terrible festivities. He planned to go away nearevening and leave everything to the Seneca.
All day the more cruel of the Delawares exhibited their impatience. Allday squaws were busy adding to the collection of wood about theburning-post, set firmly in the ground at the edge of the collection ofhuts and wigwams that comprised the town. Between the logs of his prisonJohn could plainly see all that went on.
It was late in the afternoon. Night's shades were deepening. The sun hadnearly sunk from view and a soft, golden light rested for a time on thebosom of the little lake.
With a glad cry an Indian came leaping into the village. Fishing Bird itwas, and his joy at being safe at home once more was great. In a moment,however, his happiness vanished. In a trice he discovered theburning-post and the fagots piled near it. He guessed its meaninginstantly, and his fears were immediately confirmed as he made inquiry.
Captain Pipe was just leaving the village but stayed a few seconds togive Fishing Bird greeting. He listened gravely to the younger Indian'splea that the Little Paleface be spared. He shook his head. Then FishingBird told of the rapid ride Return Kingdom had made through the woods tosave a Delaware's life, and called Long-Hair and Little Wolf to tell ofthe part they had had in that undertaking.
"A council shall be held. The Delawares will give the one accused ofwitchcraft a fair trial," said the chief at last. "If then it is foundthat, as a witch, the Little Paleface killed a warrior of the Delawares,he must suffer the penalty. Fishing Bird can ask nothing more."
Very soberly the friendly Indian approached the place of the white boy'sconfinement and told him that for the present his life was spared.
John's happiness in seeing the loyal fellow once again, and in havinganother friend at hand, was inexpressible. Soon he had learned all thatthe Delaware could tell him concerning Ree and what the latter had beendoing.
"One thing, then, Fishing Bird, you must do for me," he said. "Let ReeKingdom know that I am to have a trial. Get Captain Pipe to let youbring him and his friends here."
"Fishing Bird will bring them. Tell nobody," the Indian whispered, andwithdrew.
Before the coming of another day th
e Indian friend of the boy pioneershad left the village. He had found that the time of the council theDelawares would hold to place Little Paleface on trial would be thefollowing afternoon. The torture fire would be lighted in the evening,if the boy was found guilty, as was very certain to be the case. It waswith great news to tell and many conflicting thoughts in mind,therefore, that he sped through the woods to meet Return Kingdom at thespot agreed upon.
Thus while Fishing Bird hastened to the meeting place from one point,Ree was making his way toward the same ledge of rocks from another.Without the least difficulty the lone occupant of the mysterious camphad been captured and taken away. While Jim Small and another of thewoodsmen watched the camp from the bushes to surprise and make prisonersof any confederates of the fellow, should such put in an appearance,Sergeant Quayle and the fourth of his squad held the murderer in closequarters at the hollow whitewood. Search of the camp would not be made,it was agreed, until Kingdom's return with Fishing Bird.
Ree and the Delaware reached the place of meeting at about the sametime. As the redskin came up, Kingdom searched his face anxiously forsome clue to the tidings he brought. It was vain to do so. Indian-like,he could conceal his thoughts completely and he wanted the pleasure oftelling what he had accomplished before its substance was surmised.
He soon did tell, however, all that had happened and very soberly,indeed, did Ree receive the news. How glad he was that Fishing Bird hadreached the village so opportunely need not be told. The great questionwas what could be done to rescue John Jerome?
"We'll ask the Sergeant what he thinks about it," said Kingdom as theDelaware told more fully of the desperate situation their friend was in."Come, we must hurry. There'll be not a minute to lose."
Another surprise awaited Ree when the old poplar was reached.
"Whist! The dirty British pig has tould iverything!" whispered SergeantQuayle, meeting Kingdom and the Indian at the edge of the thicket. "Afoine thing it is, too, so it is!" And with these words the disgustedIrishman led the way forward.
Within the hollow tree there lay a great bulk of a fellow groveling onthe leaf-strewn earth, bewailing his fate, pleading for mercy, andaltogether making of himself a most miserable, loathsome spectacle.
"Oh, if I'd knowed it would come to this!" he blubbered. "Don't let thempunish me! Oh, kind gentlemen, save me! Let me go away and sin no more!Won't some one speak a kind word to me?"
The abject fear of the craven, now that his crime had found him out,would have been pitiable had his whole manner not been so utterlycontemptible.
Giving little heed to the guilty wretch, however, Ree at once apprisedthe Sergeant of the news Fishing Bird had brought and the latter wasimmediately sent to summon Jim Small and his companions for aconference.
While he was gone Sergeant Quayle told, with many expletives and manyinvectives against the British, the confession the murderer had made.The fellow's name, it developed, was Lobb. He had been connected in anunofficial way with the British garrison at Detroit and had served anumber of times as a go-between for the English officers in certain oftheir more or less secret dealings with the Indians. In consequence ofthese services he was chosen to accompany two men sent to encouragehostilities among the savages to the south of Lake Erie and as near theborder of the American settlements as they should deem it prudent to go.
The party traveled by canoe, Lobb had said, and coasting along thesouthern shore of Lake Erie, readied and ascended the Cuyahoga river. Inthe course of this trip they fell in with Lone-Elk, roaming the woodsalone, as his frequent custom was. The Seneca was not unknown to themen, for he had visited Detroit and offered his services to the Britishwhen forced to flee from his home among his own people.
For various reasons, but principally because they feared some news oftheir presence would reach Fort Pitt or Gen. Wayne, the men concluded todo all their business with the Indians of the locality through Lone-Elk.He would distribute their bounty, the powder and the bullets theybrought, also gold for those who cared for it.
Not long had the men been in the vicinity when they decided to visit thesalt springs of which they had heard a great deal. To conceal theiridentity they concluded, also, that they would make some salt whilethere, pretending that such was the sole purpose of their presence.
It was at the springs that Lobb's cupidity got the better of his naturalcowardice and what little decency he possessed. With a view to obtainingthe gold in the party's possession, and thinking then to escape to theeast in disguise, he concealed himself and shot both his comrades justas they were preparing to leave the springs. To convey the impressionthat Indians had done the awful deed he scalped both men. Then, filledwith fear lest the bodies be found before he could get away, he haddragged them into the woods and covered them with brush.
"Well, why did he hang around here? What did he say about the leadmine?" asked Ree, as the Sergeant finished.
"Sure, it's all the farther he wint with his black yarn, fer with 'yedirty cur, ye!' I give him a push an' a shove an' he landed where he'sstill layin', hard an' fast ferninst the ground there."
Lobb was questioned further by Kingdom immediately. The boy believed hesaw in the loathsome creature's story reason to believe that theDelawares had been grievously deceived by the Seneca.
Whining and groaning, the self-confessed murderer continued his story.He had been afraid to go on east from the springs, he said, and made allhaste back to the Cuyahoga, where he and his companions had establishedheadquarters in a small cave, originally pointed out to them byLone-Elk.
From here he dared move in no direction. He was afraid to return toDetroit--afraid to go east, west, north or south. Knowing of thepresence of the two boy pioneers, a few miles away, his fears weregreatly increased lest they discover him and guess his guilty secret.Day after day, then, he had lived in the hole in the hillside, comingout only at night to prepare food, or when forced to go in search offresh meat.
Imploring mercy and begging for freedom, the fellow concluded hisstatement.
"You've told everything, have you!" Kingdom asked with as littleharshness as his feelings would permit.
"Aye, master, aye--everything," Lobb whined.
"So it was you, then, who supplied Lone-Elk with lead and bullets, andhis story of a lead mine was a story and nothing more?" the boydemanded.
"I guess so. I don't know anything about a lead mine, master. Truly Idon't know anything about it. I do remember though, come to think, thatLone-Elk said once that I was his lead mine and I must look out that thePalefaces didn't find it out."
"You hear that, Sergeant?" exclaimed Ree, with some excitement. "Now letus see whether that sneaking Seneca will continue to rule theDelawares!"