"I do wonder what on yarth," she said, "that thar read-headed Simon Girty, and that thar ripscallious old varmint, as calls himself a chief, be coniving at?--and why the pesky Injens don't let me and Ella and the rest on 'em come together agin, as we did afore? Thar she stands--the darling--as pale nor a lily, and crying like all nater, jest as if her little heart war a going to break and done with it. I 'spect the varmints is hatching some orful plans to put us out o' the way--prehaps to hitch us to the stake and burn us all to cinder, like they did our housen, and them things. Well, Heaven's will be done!--as Preacher Allprayer said, when they turned him out o' meeting for gitting drunk and swearing--the dear good man!--but I do wish, for gracious sake, I could only jest change places with 'em--ef jest for five minutes--and I reckon as how they'd be glad to quit their gibberish, and talk like Christian folks, once in thar sneaking lives! Thar, they're done now, I do hope to all marcy's sake! and I reckons as how we'll soon have the gist on't."

The foregoing remarks of Mrs. Younker, were made in a low tone, and evidently not intended, like d.i.c.kens' Notes, for general circulation--the nearly fatal termination of a former speech of hers, having taught her to be a little cautious in the camp of the enemy.

The conclusion was succeeded by a stare of surprise, on being civilly informed by Girty, that she was now at liberty to join Ella as soon as she pleased.

"Well, now, that's something like," returned the dame, with a smile that was intended to be a complimentary one; "and shows, jest as clear as any thing, that thar is a few streaks o' human nater in you arter all."

Then, as if fearful the permission would be countermanded, the good lady at once set off in haste to join her adopted daughter. Subsequent events, however, soon changed the favorable opinion Mrs. Younker had began to entertain of Girty--particularly when she discovered, as she imagined, that the liberty allowed her, had only been as a ruse to withdraw her from her husband--who, as she departed, had been immediately hurried away, without so much as a parting farewell.

Orders now being rapidly given by Girty and Wild-cat, were quickly and silently executed by their swarthy subordinates; and in a few minutes, the latter chief was on his way, with four warriors, the two male prisoners, and the little girl--Oshasqua, to whom the latter had been consigned by Girty, as the reader will remember, and who still continued to accompany Wild-cat, refusing to leave her behind.

When informed by Girty, in an authoritative tone, that he must join the detachment of Wild-cat, Algernon turned toward Ella, and in a trembling voice said:

"Farewell, dear Ella! If G.o.d wills that we never meet again on earth, let us hope we may in the Land of Spirits;" and ere she, overcome by her emotion, had power to reply, he had pa.s.sed on beyond the reach of her silvery voice.

Immediately on the departure of Peshewa, Girty ordered the canoes to be drawn ash.o.r.e and concealed in a thicket near by, where they would be ready in case they should be wanted for another expedition; and then leading the way himself, the party proceeded slowly up the Miami, for about a mile, and encamped for the night, within a hundred yards of the river.

[Footnote 9: Americans, or Big Knives. We would remark here, that we have made use altogether of the Shawanoe dialect; that being most common among all the Ohio tribes, save the Wyandots or Hurons, who spoke an entirely different language.]

[Footnote 10: Great Spirit.]

CHAPTER XI.

THE ENCAMPMENT OF THE RENEGADE.

It was about ten o'clock on the evening in question, and Simon Girty was seated by a fire, around which lay stretched at full length some six or eight dark Indian forms, and near him, on the right, two of another s.e.x and race. He was evidently in some deep contemplation; for his hat and rifle were lying by his side, his hands were locked just below his knees, as if for the purpose of balancing his body in an easy position, and his eyes fixed intently on the flame, that, waving to and fro in the wind, threw over his ugly features a ruddy, flickering light, and extended his shadow to the size and shape of some frightful monster.

The clouds of the late storm had entirely pa.s.sed away, and through the checkered openings in the trees overhead could be discerned a few bright stars, which seemed to sparkle with uncommon brilliancy, owing to the clearness of the atmosphere. All beyond the immediate circle lighted by the fire, appeared dark and silent, save the solemn, almost mournful, sighing of the wind, as it swept among the tree-tops and through the branches of the surrounding mighty forest.

What the meditations of the renegade were, we shall not essay to tell; but doubtless they were of a gloomy nature; for after sitting in the position we have described, some moments, without moving, he suddenly started, unclasped his hands, and looked hurriedly around him on every side, as if half expecting, yet fearful of beholding, some frightful phantom; but he apparently saw nothing to confirm his fears; and with a heavy sigh, he resumed his former position.

What were the thoughts of that dark man, as he sat there?--he whose soul had been steeped in crime!--he whose hands had long been made red with the blood of numberless innocent victims! Who shall say what guilty deeds of the past might have been harrowing up his soul to fear and even remorse? Who shall say he was not then and there meditating upon death, and the dread eternity and judgment that must quickly follow dissolution? Who shall say he was not secretly repenting of that life of crime, which had already drawn down the curses of thousands upon his head? Something of the kind, or something equally powerful, must have been at work within him; for his features ever and anon, by their mournful contortions--if we may be allowed the phrase--gave visible tokens of one in deep agony of mind. It would be no pleasant task to a.n.a.lyze and lay bare the secret workings of so dark a spirit, even had we power to do it; and so we will leave his thoughts, whether good or evil, to himself and his G.o.d.

By his side, and within two feet of the renegade, lay extended the beautiful form of Ella Barnwell--with nothing but a blanket and her own garments between her and the earth--with none but a similar covering over her--with her head resting upon a stone, and apparently asleep. We say apparently asleep; but the drowsy son of Erebus and Nox had not yet closed her eyelids in slumber; for there were thoughts in her breast more potent than all his persuasive arts of forgetfulness, or those of his prime minister, Morpheus. Was she thinking of her own hard fate--away there in that lonely forest--with not a friend nigh that could render her a.s.sistance--with no hope of escape from the awful doom to which she was hastening? Or was she thinking of him, for whom her heart yearned with all the thousand, undefined, indescribable sympathies of affection?--of him who so lately had been her companion?--for the heart of love measures duration, not by the cold mathematical calculation of minutes and hours, and days and weeks, and months and years, but by events and feelings; and the acquaintance of weeks may seem the friend of years, and the acquaintance of years be almost forgotten in weeks;--was she thinking of him, we say--of Algernon? who, even in misery, had been torn from her side, had said perchance his last trembling farewell, and gone to suffer a death at which humanity must shudder! Ay, all these thoughts, and a thousand others, were rushing wildly through her feverish brain. She thought of her own fate--of his--of her relations--pictured out in her imagination the terrible doom of each--and her tender heart became wrung to the most excruciating point of agony.

By the side of Ella, was her adopted mother--buried in that troubled sleep which great fatigue sends to the body, even when the mind is ill at ease, filling it with startling visions--and around the fire, as we said before, lay the dusky forms of the savages, lost to all consciousness of the outer world. The position of Ella was such, that, by slightly turning her head, she could command a view of the features of the renegade; whose strange workings, as before noted, served to fix her attention and divide her thoughts between him, as the cause of her present unhappiness, and that unhappiness itself--and she gazed on his loathsome, contorted countenance, with much the same feeling as one might be supposed to gaze upon a serpent coiling itself around the body, whose deadly fangs, either sooner or later, would a.s.suredly give the fatal stroke of death. She noted the sudden start of Girty, and the wildness with which he peered around him, with feelings of hope and fear--hope, that rescue might be at hand--fear, lest something more dreadful was about to happen. At length Girty started again, and turned his head toward Ella so suddenly, that she had not time to withdraw her eyes ere his were fixed searchingly upon them.

"And are you too awake?" he said, with something resembling a sigh.

"I thought the innocent could ever sleep!"

"Not when the guilty are abroad, with deeds of death, and friends exposed," returned Ella, bitterly.

"Ah! true--true!" rejoined Girty, again looking toward the fire, in a musing mood.

"Well may you muse and writhe under the tortures of your guilty acts,"

continued Ella, in the same bitter tone; "for you have much to answer for, Simon Girty."

"And who told you the past tortured me?" cried Girty, quickly, turning on her a fierce expression.

"Your changing features and guilty starts," answered Ella.

"Ha! then you have been a spy upon me, have you?" said Girty, pressing the words slowly through his clenched teeth, knitting his s.h.a.ggy brows, and fixing his eye with intensity upon hers, until she quailed and trembled beneath its seeming fiery glance; which the light, whereby it was seen, rendered more demon-like than usual; while it made shadow chase shadow, like waves of the sea, across his face: "You have been a spy upon my actions, eh? Beware! Ella Barnwell--beware! Do not put your head in the lion's mouth too often, or he may think the bait troublesome; and by ----! had other than you told me what I just now heard, he or she had not lived to repeat it."

"Far better an early death and innocence, than a long life of guilt and misery," returned Ella, at once regaining her boldness of speech; "Far better the fate you speak of, than mine."

"And would you prefer being wedded to death, rather than me?" asked Girty, quickly, in surprise.

"Ay, a thousand times!" replied Ella, energetically, rising as she spoke, into a sitting posture, and looking fearlessly upon the renegade, her previously pale features now flushed with excitement. "I fear not death, Simon Girty; I have done no act that should make me fear the change that all must sooner or later undergo; but I could not join my hand to that of a man of blood, without loathing and horror, and feeling criminal in the sight of G.o.d and man; and least of all to you, Simon Girty, whose name has become a word of terror to the weak and innocent of my race, and whose deeds of late have been such as to make me join my voice in the general maledictions called down upon you."

During this speech of Ella, Girty sat and gazed upon her with the look of a baffled demon; and, as she concluded, fairly hissed through his teeth:

"And so you would prefer death to me, eh? By ----! you shall have your choice!"

As he spoke, he grasped Ella by the wrist with one hand, seized his tomahawk with the other, and sprung upon his feet. His rapid movement and wild manner now really frightened her; and uttering a faint cry of horror, she endeavored to release his hold; while the warriors, aroused by the noise, bounded up from the earth, weapon in hand, with looks of alarm.

Turning to them, Girty now spoke a few words in the Indian tongue; and, with significant glances at Ella, they were just in the act of again encamping, when crack went some five or six rifles, followed by yells little less savage than their own, and four of them rolled upon the earth, groaning with pain; while the others, surprised and bewildered, grasped their weapons and shouted:

"The Shemanoes!" "The Long Knives!" not knowing whether to stand or fly.

Girty, meantime, had been left unharmed; although the shivering of the helve of the tomahawk in his hand, in front of his breast, showed him he had been a target for no mean marksman, and that his life had been preserved almost by a miracle. For a moment he stood irresolute--his nostrils fairly dilated with fear and rage, still holding Ella by the wrist, who was too paralyzed with what she had seen to speak or move--straining his eyes in every direction to note, if possible, the number of his foes and whence their approach. The whole glance was momentary; but he saw himself nearly surrounded by his enemies, who were fast closing in toward the center with fierce yells; and pausing no longer in indecision, he encircled Ella's waist with his left arm, raised her from the ground, and keeping her as much as possible between himself and his enemies, to deter them from firing, darted away toward a thicket, some fifty yards distant, pursued by two of the attacking party.

Just as Girty gained the thicket, one of his pursuers made a sudden bound forward and grasped him by the arm; but his hold was the next moment shaken off by the renegade, who, being now rendered desperate, drew a pistol from his belt, with the rapidity of lightning, and laid the bold adventurer dead at his feet. Almost at the same moment, Girty received a blow on the back of his head, from the breech of the rifle of his other antagonist, that staggered him forward; when, releasing his hold of Ella, he turned and darted off in another direction, firing a pistol as he went, the ball of which whizzed close to the head of him for whom it was designed; and in a moment more he was lost in the mazes of the forest.

Meantime the b.l.o.o.d.y work was going forward in the center; for at the moment when Girty darted away, the report of some three or four rifles again echoed through the wood, two more of the red warriors bit the dust, while the other two fled in opposite directions, leaving Boone and his party sole masters of the field.

Eager, excited, reckless and wild, several of the young men now rushed forward, with yells of triumph, to the wounded Indians, whom they immediately tomahawked without mercy, and began to scalp, when the voice of Boone, who had been more cautious, reached them from a distance:

"Beware o' the fire-light, lads! or the red varmints will draw a bead[11] on some of ye."

Scarcely were the words uttered, ere his warning was sadly fulfilled; for the two savages finding they were not pursued, and thirsting for revenge, turned and fired almost simultaneously, with aims so deadly, that one of the young men, by the name of Beecher, fell mortally wounded and expired a moment after; and another, by the name of Morris, had his wrist shattered by a ball. This fatal event produced a panic in the others, who at once fled precipitately into the darkness, leaving Mrs.

Younker, who had by this time gained her feet, standing alone by the fire, a bewildered spectator of the terrible tragedies that had so lately been enacted by her side. To her Boone now immediately advanced, notwithstanding the caution he had given the others; and turning to him as he came up, the good lady exclaimed, in a tone of astonishment:

"Why, Colonel Boone, be this here you? Why when did you come--and how on yarth did ye git here--and what in the name o' all creation has been happening? For ye see I war jest dosing away thar by the fire, and dreaming all sorts of things, like all nater, when somehow I kind o'

thought I'd all at once turned into a man and gone to war a rale soldier; and the battle had opened, and the big guns war blazing away, and the little guns war popping off, and the soldiers war shrieking and groaning and falling around me, like all possessed; and men a trampling, and horses a running like skeered deer; and then I sort o' woke up, and jumped up, and seed all them dead Injen wretches; and then I jest begun to think as how it warn't no dream at all, but a living truth, all 'cept my being a man and a soldier, as you com'd up. Well, ef this arn't a queer world," resumed the good dame, catching breath meanwhile, "as Preacher Allprayer used to say, then maybe as how I don't know nothing at all about it."

"Your dream war a very nateral one, Mrs. Younker," returned Boone, who, during the speech of the other, had been actively employed in scattering the burning brands, to prevent the recurrence of another sad catastrophe; "and I'm rejoiced to see that you've escaped unharmed, amid this b.l.o.o.d.y work. Allow me to set you free;" and as he spoke, he drew his scalping knife, and severed the thongs that bound her wrists.

"Gracious on me!" cried the dame, chafing the parts which had been swollen by the tightness of the cords; "how clever 'tis to get free agin, and have the use o' one's hands and tongue, to do and say jest what a body pleases; for d'ye know, Colonel Boone, them thar imps of Satan war awfully afeared o' my talking to 'em, to convince 'em they war the meanest varmints in the whole univarsul yarth o' creation; and actually put a peremshus stop to my saying what I thought on 'em; although I told 'em as how it war a liberty as these blessed colonies war this moment fighting for with the hateful red-coated Britishers.

But, Lord presarve us! gracious on us! where in marcy's sake is my dear, darling Ella?" concluded Mrs. Younker, with vehemence and alarm, as she now missed her adopted daughter for the first time.

"She's here, mother," answered a voice close behind her; and turning round, the dame uttered a cry of joy, sprung into the arms of her son Isaac, and wept upon his neck--occasionally articulating, in a choked voice:

"G.o.d bless you, Isaac! G.o.d bless you, son!--you're a good boy--the Lord's presarved you through the whole on't--the Lord be praised!--but your father, poor lad--your father!" and with a strong burst of emotion, she buried her face upon his breast, and wept aloud.

"I know it," sobbed forth Isaac, his whole frame shaken with the force of his feelings: "I--I know the whole on't, mother--Ella's told me. I'd rather he'd bin killed a thousand times; but thar's no help for it now!"