Previous to his starting for the fort, Alfred had a hasty
communication with his father and mother, in which he informed them
simply that it was evident that Mary had been carried off, and that it
was the opinion of Malachi and Martin that the Angry Snake was the party
to be suspected.
“But what cause could he have?” said Emma, weeping.
“Merely to get powder and shot as a reward for bringing her back again,”
replied Alfred; “so there is not anything to fear as to her being
ill-treated; but if he has any other reason for what he has done, it is
well known that an Indian always respects a female. But here comes my
horse.”
“But what are you going to do, Alfred?” said Mrs Campbell, who was in a
state of great agitation.
“Ride to the fort for assistance, bring Captain Sinclair, and go in
pursuit as fast as we can, mother. Martin will get all ready by my
return; Malachi is following up the trail with the Strawberry. But there
is no time to be lost; I shall soon be back.”
Alfred then sprang upon his horse, which Martin had brought to the door,
and galloped away to the fort.
As
it may be supposed, Mr and Mrs Campbell and Emma were in great distress;
this did not, however, prevent them from listening to Martin, and
supplying him with all that he requested, which was salt-pork and other
food for their journey, powder and shot for their rifles, etcetera.
Having specified all that was wanted, Martin then went off to summon
young Graves and Meredith; they were soon found, and when they heard the
intelligence, were ready in a minute for departure. Their rifles and an
extra pair of mocassins each was all that they required for the journey,
and in a few minutes they accompanied Martin to the house. After they
had been occupied for a little time in dividing the various articles
into different packages, that each might carry his proportion, Mr
Campbell said—
“Martin, supposing that you and Malachi are correct in your supposition,
where do you think that they will take my poor niece?”
“Right away to their own wigwams, sir,” replied Martin.
“Have you any idea how far that may be?” said Mrs Campbell.
“Yes, ma’am, I have heard that the Angry Snake’s quarters are about
twelve days’ journey from this.”
“Twelve days’ journey! how far is a journey?”
“As far as a stout man can walk in a day, ma’am.”
“And will my niece have to walk all that way?”
“Why, yes, ma’am; I don’t see how it can be otherwise; I don’t know of
the Indians having any horses, although they may have.”
“But she cannot walk as far as a man,” replied Mrs Campbell.
“No, ma’am, and so I suppose they will be twenty days going instead of
twelve.”
“Will they ill-treat or ill-use her, Martin?” said Emma.
“No, ma’am, I shouldn’t think they would, although they will make her
walk, and will tie her at night when they stop.”
“Poor Mary; what will she suffer?” exclaimed Emma; “and if you do come
up with them, Martin, will they give her up to you?”
“We shan’t ask their leave, miss,” replied Martin; “we shall take her.”
“But not without bloodshed, Martin,” said Mrs Campbell.
“No, ma’am, certainly not without bloodshed, for either the Indians must
destroy us or we them; if we conquer, not an Indian will be left alive;
and if they master us, it will be about the same thing, I suppose.”
“Heaven protect us, but this is dreadful; I was prepared for
difficulties and annoyances when I came out here,” exclaimed Mrs
Campbell; “but not for such trials as these.”
“Never fear but we’ll bring her back, ma’am,” said Martin; “Malachi is a
better Indian than them all, and he’ll circumvent them.”
“How do you mean?”
“I
mean, ma’am, that we will, if possible, fall upon them unawares, and
then we’ll have the advantage, for half of them will be killed before
they know that they are attacked; we’ll fight them Indian fashion,
ma’am.”
Mrs Campbell continued her interrogations till Alfred was seen at the
end of the prairie returning at full speed, accompanied by Captain
Sinclair and two other men, also on horseback.
“Here they come,” said Martin; “and they have lost no time, that’s
certain.”
“Poor Captain Sinclair! what must be his feelings, I pity him,” said Mrs
Campbell.
“He must take it coolly, nevertheless,” observed Martin; “or he may do
more harm than good.”
Alfred and Captain Sinclair now dismounted; they had brought with them
two of the soldiers who were well used to the woods, and excellent shots
with the rifle. A hurried conversation of a few minutes took place, but
time was too precious, and Alfred, embracing his father and mother, who,
as they shook hands with Captain Sinclair, expressed in a melancholy way
their hopes for their success, the party of seven which had been
collected set off to rejoin Malachi and the Strawberry.
Malachi and the Strawberry had not been idle; the latter had ran back to
the lodge and procured a bow and arrows, and since that they had tracked
the footmarks through the forest for more than a mile, when they had
come to a small rivulet which ran through the forest. Here the trail was
lost, at least, it was not to be perceived anywhere on the opposite side
of the rivulet, and it was to be presumed that, to conceal their trail,
the Indians had walked in the water, either up or down, for a certain
distance before they put their feet on the other side; but as it was
near the time that they might expect the arrival of Alfred and the
others, Malachi had returned to the spot where Alfred and Martin had
left them, leaving the Strawberry to walk down and up the side of the
rivulet to recover the trail. As soon as the party joined him, they and
Malachi set off to where the trail had been lost, and the latter had
left the Strawberry.
There they waited some time, as the Strawberry was not in sight, and
they took this opportunity of distributing the provisions and ammunition
among them. Captain Sinclair, although his feelings may well be
imagined, was very active in arrangements, and shewed that, if his heart
was smitten, his head was clear. The order of the march was settled by
Malachi and him, and as soon as all was arranged, they waited
impatiently for the return of the Indian girl; she came at last, and
informed them that she had recovered the trail about three miles up the
course of the stream, and they all started immediately. As was agreed,
they kept perfect silence, and followed the newly-discovered trail for
about a mile, when, on their arrival at a clear spot in the woods, where
the grass was very short and dry, they were again at fault. They went
over to the other side of the heath, to see if they could again fall in
with it, but after half-an-hour’s search, could not discover it, when
they were summoned by a low whistle from the Strawberry, who had
returned to the spot where the trail had been lost.
“They have turned back again,” said the Strawberry, pointing to the
former footmarks; “see the track of the mocassins is both ways.”
“That’s true,” said Malachi, after a close examination; “now then,
Strawberry, to find out where they have left the old trail again. I told
you, sir,” continued Malachi to Alfred, “that the Strawberry would be
useful; she has the eye of a falcon.”
It
was not till another half-hour had elapsed that the spot where they had
left the trail, which, to deceive those who might pursue them, the
Indians had returned upon, was discovered, and then they started again,
and proceeded with caution, led by the Strawberry, until she stopped and
spoke to Malachi in the Indian tongue, pointing at a small twig broken
upon one of the bushes.
“That’s true, let us see if it happens again.”
In
a few moments the Strawberry pointed out another.
“Then all’s right,” said Malachi; “I said that she could help us again
if she chose, and so she has. The Injun woman who wrote the letter,”
continued Malachi, turning to Captain Sinclair and Alfred, “is our
friend still. See, sir, she has, wherever she has dared to do it without
being seen by the Injuns, broken down a small twig as a guide to us.
Now, if she has continued to do this we shall not have much trouble.”
They continued their course through the woods until the sun went down,
and they could see no longer, having made a journey of about nine miles
from the settlement. They then laid down for the night under a large
tree; the weather was very warm, and they did not light a fire as they
had some cooked provisions.
The next morning, as soon as it was daylight, they made a hasty meal,
and resumed their task. The trail was now pretty clear, and was
occasionally verified by the breaking of a twig, as before. This day
they made sixteen miles’ journey, and at the close of it they arrived at
the borders of a lake about ten miles long, and from one and a-half to
two wide; the trail went right on to the shore of the lake and then
disappeared.
“Here they must have taken to the water,” said Alfred; “but what means
have they had to cross?”
“That we must discover somehow or another, sir,” replied Malachi, “or
else we shall not find the trail again; perhaps, however, we shall see
to-morrow morning; it is too dark now to attempt to find out, and we may
do more harm than good by tracking down the bank. We must bring to for
the night. There is a high rock there on the beach farther up; we had
better go there, as we can light a fire behind the rock without being
discovered by it, supposing the Injuns are on the opposite shore; and
to-night we must cook all our provisions if we possibly can, for, depend
upon it, we have travelled faster to-day than they can have done with
the young lady, and if we can once get well on the trail again we shall
soon be up with them.”
“God grant that we may!” exclaimed Captain Sinclair; “the idea of what
poor Mary must suffer almost drives me mad.”
“Yes, sir, she will be terribly foot sore, I have no doubt,” replied
Malachi; “but the Injuns will not treat her ill, depend upon it.”
Captain Sinclair sighed, but made no reply.
As
soon as they had arrived at the mass of rock which Malachi had pointed
out they all commenced collecting firewood, and the Strawberry in a few
minutes had a sufficient fire for their purpose. They had not any
cooking utensils with them, but the pork was cut in slices and stuck
upon the ends of small sticks round the fire until it was sufficiently
cooked, and then it was packed up again in parcels, with the exception
of what was retained for their supper. They had finished their meal, and
were sitting round the embers of the fire conversing and calculating the
probabilities as to their overtaking the Indians, when Martin sprang up,
with his rifle ready to bring to his shoulder.
“What is it?” said Alfred in a low tone, as Martin held up his finger as
a sign for silence.
“There’s somebody coming this way—he is behind that large tree,” said
Martin; “I see his head now, but it is too dark to make out who it may
be.”
As
Martin said this a low and singular sort of whistle between the teeth
was heard, upon which the Strawberry gently put down Martin’s rifle with
her hand, saying—
“It is John.”
“John; impossible!” said Alfred.
“It is,” replied Strawberry. “I know well that whistle. I go to fetch
him. Have no fear.”
Strawberry stepped out from the group, and went up to the tree, calling
John softly by name, and in a few seconds afterwards returned, leading
John by the hand, who, without saying a word, quietly seated himself
down by the fire.
“Well, John, how did you come here?” exclaimed Alfred.
“Followed trail,” replied John.
“But how—when did you leave home?”
“Yesterday,” replied John, “when I came back.”
“But do your father and mother know that you have come?” said Captain
Sinclair.
“I
met old Graves, and told him,” replied John. “Have you any meat?”
“The boy has had nothing since he left, I’ll answer for it,” said
Martin, as the Strawberry handed some of the pork to John. “Have you,
John?”
“No,” replied John, with his mouth full.
“Let him eat,” said Malachi; “it’s long for a lad to be two days without
food, for I’ll answer he left as soon as he heard we were gone, and did
not wait for yesterday’s supper. Indeed, he must have done so, for he
must have followed the trail some time yesterday to be up with us
to-night; so let him eat in quiet.”
“What surprises me, Malachi, is how he could have found his way to us.”
“Well, sir, I do confess that I’m as much surprised almost as I am
pleased,” replied Malachi. “It is really a great feat for a lad to
accomplish all by himself, and I am proud of him for having done it; but
from the first I saw what a capital woodsman he would make, and he has
not disappointed me.”
“There are not many who would have been able to do it, that’s certain,”
said Martin. “I wonder as much as you do, Mr Alfred, how he could have
done it; but he has the gift.”
“But suppose he had not come up with us, how would he have lived in
these woods? It is a mercy that he has fallen in with us,” said Captain
Sinclair.
John slapped the barrel of his rifle, which was lying by him, and which
Captain Sinclair had not perceived.
“You don’t think that John would come into the woods without his rifle,
sir, do you?” said Malachi.
“I
did not perceive that he had it with him,” said Captain Sinclair, “but I
certainly ought to have known John better.”
John having finished his supper, they all lay down to rest, one keeping
watch that they might not be surprised.
At
daylight they made their breakfast, and then went down again to the
borders of the lake, where the trail had been lost. After a long
examination, Malachi called the Strawberry, and pointing to the edge of
the water, asked her to look there. The Strawberry did so, and at last
decided that there was the mark of the bottom of a canoe which had been
grounded.
“Yes, I thought so,” said Malachi. “They have had their canoe all ready,
and have crossed the water. Now, we must walk quite round the lake to
discover the trail again, and that will give them half-a-day’s start of
us.”
They immediately set off coasting the shores of the lake, until they
arrived at the other side, carefully examining the ground as they went.
This took them till noon, by which time they had arrived at that part of
the lake which was opposite to the large rock behind which they had
kindled their fire the night before; but no traces were to be perceived.
“They have not crossed over in a straight line,” said Captain Sinclair,
“that is evident; we must now try more to the northward.”
This they did; and at last discovered that the canoe had crossed over to
the north part of the lake, having coasted along the eastward shore the
whole way. The spot of landing was very evident, and for some distance
they could trace where the canoe had been hauled up. It was now late in
the afternoon, and it became a question whether they should follow the
trail or discover the place of concealment of the canoe, as it might be
advantageous to know where it was when they returned. It was decided
that they should first discover the canoe, and this was not done till
after a search of two hours, when they found it concealed in the bushes,
about one mile from the lake. They then followed the trail about two
miles; the twigs had been bent and broken as before, which was a great
help to them, but the night was now closing in. Having arrived at a
clear knoll, they took up their quarters under the trees, and retired to
rest. At daybreak they again started, and, after two hours’ walk, had to
track across a small prairie, which gave them some trouble, but they
succeeded in finding the trail on their arrival at the wood on the
opposite side and then they made a very rapid progress, for the twigs
were now more frequently broken and bent than before. During this day,
with the bow and arrows brought by the Strawberry, Martin had procured
them two wild turkeys, which were very acceptable, as their provisions
would not last more than seven or eight days longer, and it was
impossible to say how far they would have to travel. It was not far from
dark when the quick ears of the Strawberry were attracted by a noise
like that of a person breathing heavily. She at last pointed with her
finger to a bush; they advanced cautiously, and on the other side of it
they found an Indian woman lying on the ground, bleeding profusely. They
raised her up, and discovered that it was the Indian whom they had cured
of the sprained ankle, and who, they presumed, had been then discovered
breaking the twigs that they might follow the trail, for, on
examination, they found that she had received a heavy blow on the head
with a tomahawk; but, fortunately, it had glanced sideways, and not
entered into the brain. She was not sensible, however, at the time that
they discovered her, for she had lost a great deal of blood. They
stopped the effusion of blood with bandages torn from their linen, and
poured some water down her throat. It was now dark, and it was not
possible to proceed any further that night. The Strawberry went into the
woods and collected some herbs, with which she dressed the wound, and,
having made the poor Indian as comfortable as they could, they again lay
down to rest, but not until Malachi had said to Alfred—
“There is no doubt, sir, but that the Injuns have discovered this woman
was marking the trail for us, and that they have tomahawked her for so
doing, and have left her for dead. I think myself that the wound,
although it is a very ugly one, is not dangerous, and so says the
Strawberry. However, to-morrow will decide the point; if she is not
sensible then, it will be of no use waiting, but we must go on as fast
as we can.”
When they awoke the next morning they found the Strawberry sitting by
the Indian woman, who was now quite sensible and collected, although
very weak and exhausted. Malachi and Martin went to her, and had a long
conversation with her at intervals. Malachi had been right in his
supposition; the Angry Snake had discovered her in the act of bending a
twig, and had struck her down with his tomahawk. They gained from her
the following information. The Angry Snake, irritated at the detention
of the Young Otter, had resolved to have another hostage in lieu of him,
and had carried off Mary Percival. He had six Indians with him, which
were the whole of his grown-up warriors. They were now but one day’s
journey ahead of them, as Miss Percival was very sore on her feet, and
they could not get her along, but that in every other respect she had
been well treated. That the Indians were not going to their lodges in a
direct course, but by a circuitous route, which would make a difference
of at least six or seven days; and that they did this that they might
not be seen by some other tribes who were located in their direct route,
and who might give information. She said that it was she who had written
the Indian letter which Malachi had received the autumn before, and that
she had done it because she had been so kindly treated by Mr and Mrs
Campbell, when she had been found in the forest with her ankle sprained.
That Percival was at the Indian lodges, quite well when they left, and
that if the Angry Snake did not receive a large quantity of powder and
shot, and a great many rifles in exchange for him, it was his intention
to adopt the boy, as he was very partial to him. On being asked if the
boy was happy, she replied that he was not at first, but now he was
almost an Indian; that he was seldom permitted to leave the lodges, and
never unless accompanied by the Angry Snake. In answer to their
questions as to the direction and distance to the lodges, she said that
they were about seven days’ journey by the straight road; but that the
party with Miss Percival would not arrive there in less than fifteen
days, if so soon, as she was every day less able to travel. Having
obtained all this information, a council was held, and Malachi spoke
first, having been requested so to do.
“My opinion is this,” said Malachi, “that we can do no better than
remain here at present, and wait till the woman is sufficiently
recovered to travel, and shew us the direct road to the lodges. In two
or three days she will probably be well enough to go with us, and then
we will take the direct road, and be there before them. The knowledge of
the place and the paths will enable us to lay an ambush for them, and to
rescue the young lady without much danger to ourselves. They will have
no idea of falling in with us, for they of course imagine the woman is
dead; a tomahawk seldom fails.”
After a long parley, the advice of Malachi was considered the most
judicious, and a further conversation with the Indian woman confirmed
them in the resolution. As they had no fear of the Indians discovering
that they were on their trail, Martin and Alfred went out in pursuit of
game for provisions, while the others raised up a large hut with
branches of trees, for the accommodation of the whole party. In the
evening Martin and Alfred returned, carrying a fine buck between them.
The fire was lighted, and very soon all were busy cooking and eating.
The Indian woman also begged for something to eat, and her recovery was
now no longer considered doubtful.