"Every stride--every stamp,
Every footfall is bolder;
'Tis a skeleton's tramp,
With a skull on its shoulder!
But ho, how he steps
With a high-tossing head,
That clay-covered bone,
Going down to the dead!"
Coxe.
Nick's countenance was a fair index to his mind; nor were his words
intended to deceive. Never did Wyandotté forget the good, or evil, that
was done him. After looking intently, a short time, at the Hut, he
turned and abruptly demanded of his companions,--
"Why come here? Like to see enemy between you and wigwam?"
As all Nick said was uttered in a guarded tone, as if he fully entered
into the necessity of remaining concealed from those who were in such a
dangerous vicinity, it served to inspire confidence, inducing the two
soldiers to believe him disposed to serve them.
"Am I to trust in you as a friend?" demanded the captain, looking the
Indian steadily in the eye.
"Why won't trust? Nick no hero--gone away--Nick nebber come ag'in--
Wyandotté hero--who no trust Wyandotté? Yengeese always trust great
chief."
"I shall take you at your word, Wyandotté, and tell you everything,
hoping to make an ally of you. But, first explain to me, why you left
the Hut, last night--friends do not desert friends."
"Why leave wigwam?--Because wanted to. Wyandotté come when he want; go
when he want. Nick go too.--Went to see son--come back; tell story;
eh?"
"Yes, it has happened much as you say, and I am willing to think it all
occurred with the best motives. Can you tell me anything of Joel, and
the others who have left me?"
"Why tell?--Cap'in look; he see. Some chop--some plough--some weed--
some dig ditch. All like ole time Bury hatchet--tired of war-path--why
cap'in ask?"
"I see all you tell me. You know, then, that those fellows have made
friends with the hostile party?"
"No need know--see. Look--Injin chop, pale-face look on! Call that
war?"
"I do see that which satisfies me the men in paint yonder are not all
red men."
"No--cap'in right--tell him so at wigwam. But dat Mohawk--dog--rascal--
Nick's enemy!"
This was said with a gleam of fierceness shooting across the swarthy
face, and a menacing gesture of the hand, in the direction of a real
savage who was standing indolently leaning against a tree, at a
distance so small as to allow those on the rock to distinguish his
features. The vacant expression of this man's countenance plainly
denoted that he was totally unconscious of the vicinity of danger. It
expressed the listless vacancy of an Indian in a state of perfect
rest--his stomach full, his body at ease, his mind peaceful.
"I thought Nick was not here," the captain quietly observed, smiling on
the Tuscarora a little ironically.
"Cap'in right--Nick no here. Well for dog 'tis so. Too mean for
Wyandotté to touch. What cap'in come for? Eh! Better tell chief--get
council widout lightin' fire."
"As I see no use in concealing my plan from you, Wyandotté,"--Nick
seemed pleased whenever this name was pronounced by others--"I shall
tell it you, freely. Still, you have more to relate to me. Why are
_you_ here?--And how came you to discover us?"
"Follow trail--know cap'in foot--know serjeant foot--know Mike foot--
see so many foot, follow him. Leave so many" holding up three fingers
"in bushes--so many" holding up two fingers "come here. Foot tell
_which_ come here--Wyandotté chief--he follow chief."
"When did you first strike, or see our trail, Tuscarora?"
"Up here--down yonder--over dere." Captain Willoughby understood this
to mean, that the Indian had crossed the trail, or seen it in several
places. "Plenty trail; plenty foot to tell all about it. Wyandotté see
foot of friend--why he don't follow, eh?"
"I hope this is all so, old warrior, and that you will prove yourself a
friend indeed. We are out in the hope of liberating my son, and we came
here to see what our enemies are about."
The Tuscarora's eyes were like two inquisitors, as he listened; but he
seemed satisfied that the truth was told him. Assuming an air of
interest, he inquired if the captain knew where the major was confined.
A few words explained everything, and the parties soon understood each
other.
"Cap'in right," observed Nick. "Son in cupboard still; but plenty
warrior hear, to keep eye on him."
"You know his position, Wyandotté, and can aid us materially, if you
will. What say you, chief; will you take service, once more, under your
old commander?"
"Who _he_ sarve--King George--Congress--eh?"
"Neither. I am neutral, Tuscarora, in the present quarrel. I only
defend myself, and the rights which the laws assure to me, let
whichever party govern, that may."
"Dat bad. Nebber neutral in hot war. Get rob from bot' side. Alway be
one or t'oder, cap'in."
"You may be right, Nicholas, but a conscientious man may think neither
wholly right, nor wholly wrong. I wish never to lift the hatchet,
unless my quarrel be just."
"Injin no understand _dat_. Throw hatchet at _enemy_--what
matter what he say--good t'ing, bad t'ing. He _enemy_--dat enough.
Take scalp from _enemy_--don't touch _friend_"
"That may do for _your_ mode of warfare, Tuscarora, but It will
hardly do for _mine_. I must feel that I have right of my side,
before I am willing to take life."
"Cap'in always talk so, eh? When he soldier, and general say shoot ten,
forty, t'ousand Frenchmen, den he say; stop, general--no hurry--let
cap'in t'ink.' Bye'm-by he'll go and take scalp; eh!"
It exceeded our old soldier's self-command not to permit the blood to
rush into his face, at this home-thrust; for he felt the cunning of the
Indian had involved him in a seeming contradiction.
"That was when I was in the army, Wyandotté," he answered,
notwithstanding his confusion, "when my first, and highest duty, was to
obey the orders of my superiors. Then I acted as a soldier; now, I hope
to act as a man."
"Well, Indian chief alway in army. Always high duty, and obey
superior--obey Manitou, and take scalp from enemy. War-path alway
open, when enemy at t'other end."
"This is no place to discuss such questions, chief; nor have we the
time. Do you go with us?"
Nick nodded an assent, and signed for the other to quit the rocks. The
captain hesitated a moment, during which he stood intently studying the
scene in the clearing.
"What say you, Tuscarora; the serjeant has proposed assaulting that
breast-work?"
"No good, cap'in. You fire, halloo, rush on--well, kill four, six,
two--rest run away. Injin down at mill hear rifle; follow smoke--where
major, den? Get major, first--t'ink about enemy afterwards."
As Nick said this, he repeated the gesture to descend; and he was
obeyed in silence. The captain now led the way back to his party; and
soon rejoined it. All were glad to see Nick, for he was known to have a
sure rifle; to be fearless as the turkey-cock; and to possess a
sagacity in the woods, that frequently amounted to a species of
intuition.
"Who lead, cap'in or Injin?" asked the Tuscarora, in his sententious
manner.
"Och, Nick, ye're a cr'ature!" muttered Mike. "Divil bur-r-rn me,
Jamie, but I t'inks the fallie would crass the very three-tops, rather
than miss the majjor's habitation."
"Not a syllable must be uttered," said the captain, raising a hand in
remonstrance. "I will lead, and Wyandotté will march by my side, and
give me his council, in whispers. Joyce will bring up the rear.
Blodget, you will keep a sharp look-out to the left, while Jamie will
do the same to the right. As we approach the mills, stragglers may be
met in the woods, and our march must be conducted with the greatest
caution. Now follow, and be silent."
The captain and Nick led, and the whole party followed, observing the
silence which had been enjoined on them. The usual manner of marching
on a war-path, in the woods, was for the men to follow each other
singly; an order that has obtained the name of 'Indian file,' the
object being to diminish the trail, and conceal the force of the
expedition, by each man treading in his leader's footsteps. On the
present occasion, however, the captain induced Nick to walk at his
side, feeling an uneasiness on the subject of the Tuscarora's fidelity
that he could not entirely conquer. The pretext given was very
different, as the reader will suppose. By seeing the print of a
moccasin in company with that of a boot, any straggler that crossed the
trail might be led to suppose it had been left by the passage of a
party from the clearing or the mill. Nick quietly assented to this
reasoning, and fell in by the side of the captain without remonstrance.
Vigilant eyes were kept on all sides of the line of march, though it,
was hoped and believed that the adventurers had struck upon a route too
far west to be exposed to interruption. A quarter of a mile nearer to
the flats might have brought them within the range of stragglers; but,
following the summit of the ridge, there was a certain security in the
indolence which would be apt to prevent mere idlers from sauntering up
an ascent. At all events, no interruption occurred, the party reaching
in safety the rocks that were a continuation of the range which formed
the precipice at the falls--the sign that they had gone far enough to
the south. At this period, the precipice was nearly lost in the rising
of the lower land, but its margin was sufficiently distinct to form a
good mask.
Descending to the plateau beneath, the captain and Nick now inclined to
the east, the intention being to come in upon the mills from the rear.
As the buildings lay in the ravine, this could only be done by making a
rapid descent immediately in their vicinity; a formation of the ground
that rendered the march, until within pistol-shot of its termination,
reasonably secure. Nick also assured his companions that he had several
times traversed this very plateau, and that he had met no signs of
footsteps on it; from which he inferred that the invaders had not taken
the trouble to ascend the rugged cliffs that bounded the western side
of the glen.
The approach to the summit of the cliff was made with caution, though
the left flank of the adventurers was well protected by the abrupt
descent they had already made from the terrace above. This left little
more than the right flank and the front to be watched, the falling away
of the land forming, also, a species of cover for the rear. It is not
surprising, then, that the verge of the ravine or glen was attained,
and no discovery was made. The spot being favourable, the captain
immediately led down a winding path, that was densely fringed with
bushes, towards the level of the buildings.
The glen of the mills was very narrow; so much so, as barely to leave
sites for the buildings themselves, and three or four cabins for the
workmen. The mills were placed in advance, as near as possible to the
course of the water; while the habitations of the workmen were perched
on shelves of the rocks, or such level bits of bottom-land as offered.
Owing to this last circumstance, the house of Daniel the miller, or
that in which it was supposed the major was still confined, stood by
itself, and fortunately, at the very foot of the path by which the
adventurers were descending. All this was favourable, and had been
taken into the account as a material advantage, by Captain Willoughby
when he originally conceived the plan of the present sortie.
When the chimney of the cabin was visible over the bushes, Captain
Willoughby halted his party, and repeated his instruction to Joyce, in
a voice very little raised above a whisper; The serjeant was ordered to
remain in his present position, until he received a signal to advance.
As for the captain, himself, he intended to descend as near as might be
to the buttery of the cabin, and reconnoitre, before he gave the final
order. This buttery was in a lean-to, as a small addition to the
original building was called in the parlance of the country; and, the
object being shade and coolness, on account of the milk with which it
was usually well stored at this season of the year, it projected back
to the very cliff, where it was half hid in bushes and young trees. It
had but a single small window, that was barred with wood to keep out
cats, and such wild vermin as affected milk, nor was it either lathed
or plastered; these two last being luxuries not often known in the log
tenements of the frontier. Still it was of solid logs, chinked in with
mortar, and made a very effectual prison, with the door properly
guarded; the captive being deprived of edged tools. All this was also
known to the father, when he set forth to effect the liberation of his
son, and, like the positions of the buildings themselves, had been well
weighed in his estimate of the probabilities and chances.
As soon as his orders were given, Captain Willoughby proceeded down the
path, accompanied only by Nick. He had announced his intention to send
the Tuscarora ahead to reconnoitre, then to force himself among the
bushes between the lean-to and the rocks, and there to open a
communication with the major through the chinks of the logs After
receiving Nick's intelligence, his plan was to be governed by
circumstances, and to act accordingly.
"God bless you, Joyce," said the captain, squeezing the Serjeant's hand
as he was on the point of descending. "We are on ticklish service, and
require all our wits about us. If anything happen to me, remember that
my wife and daughter will mainly depend on you for protection."
"I shall consider that as your honour's orders, sir, and no more need
be said to me, Captain Willoughby."
The captain smiled on his old follower, and Joyce thought that never
had he seen the fine manly face of his superior beam with a calmer, or
sweeter expression, than it did as he returned his own pressure of the
hand. The two adventurers were both careful, and their descent was
noiseless. The men above listened, in breathless silence, but the
stealthy approach of the cat upon the bird could not have been more
still, than that, of these two experienced warriors.
The place where Joyce was left with the men, might have been fifty feet
above the roof of the cabin, and almost perpendicularly over the narrow
vacancy that was known to exist between the rocks and the lean-to.
Still the bushes and trees were so thick as to prevent the smallest
glimpse at objects below, had the shape of the cliff allowed it, while
they even intercepted sounds. Joyce fancied, nevertheless, that he
heard the rustling bushes, as the captain forced his way into the
narrow space he was to occupy, and he augured well of the fact, since
it proved that no opposition had been encountered. Half an hour of
forest silence followed, that was only interrupted by the tumbling of
the waters over the natural dam. At the end of that weary period, a
shout was heard in front of the mills, and the party raised their
pieces, in a vague apprehension that some discovery had been made that
was about to bring on a crisis. Nothing further occurred, however, to
confirm this impression, and an occasional burst of laughter, that
evidently came from white men, rather served to allay the apprehension.
Another half-hour passed, during which no interruption was heard. By
this time Joyce became uneasy, a state of things having arrived for
which no provision had been made in his instructions. He was about to
leave his command under the charge of Jamie, and descend himself to
reconnoitre, when a footstep was heard coming up the path. Nothing but
the deep attention, and breathless stillness of the men could have
rendered the sound of a tread so nearly noiseless, audible; but heard
it was, at a moment when every sense was wrought up to its greatest
powers. Rifles were lowered, in readiness to receive assailants, but
each was raised again, as Nick came slowly into view. The Tuscarora was
calm in manner, as if no incident had occurred to disconcert the
arrangement, though his eyes glanced around him, like those of a man
who searched for an absent person.
"Where cap'in?--Where major?" Nick asked, as soon as his glance had
taken in the faces of all present.
"We must ask that of you, Nick," returned Joyce. "We have not seen the
captain, nor had any orders from him, since he left us."
This answer seemed to cause the Indian more surprise than it was usual
for him to betray, and he pondered a moment in obvious uneasiness.
"Can't stay here, alway," he muttered. "Best go see. Bye'm-by trouble
come; then, too late."
The serjeant was greatly averse to moving without orders. He had his
instructions how to act in every probable contingency, but none that
covered the case of absolute inaction on the part of those below.
Nevertheless, twice the time necessary to bring things to issue had
gone by, and neither signal, shot, nor alarm had reached his ears.
"Do you know anything of the major, Nick?" the serjeant demanded,
determined to examine the case thoroughly ere he came to a decision.
"Major dere--see him at door--plenty sentinel. All good--where cap'in?"
"Where did you leave him?--You can give the last account of him."
"Go in behind cupboard--under rock--plenty bushes--all right--son
dere."
"This must be looked to--perhaps his honour has fallen into a fit--such
things sometimes happen--and a man who is fighting for his own child,
doesn't feel, Jamie, all the same as one who fights on a general
principle, as it might be."
"Na--ye 're right, sairjeant J'yce, and ye'll be doing the kind and
prudent act, to gang doon yersal', and investigate the trainsaction
with yer ain een."
This Joyce determined to do, directing Nick to accompany him, as a
guide. The Indian seemed glad to comply, and there was no delay in
proceeding. It required but a minute to reach the narrow passage
between the cliff and the lean-to. The bushes were carefully shoved
aside, and Joyce entered. He soon caught a glimpse of the hunting-
shirt, and then he was about to withdraw, believing that he was in
error, in anticipating orders. But a short look at his commander
removed all scruples; for he observed that he was seated on a
projection of the rocks, with his body bowed forward, apparently
leaning on the logs of the building. This seemed to corroborate the
thought about a fit, and the serjeant pressed eagerly forward to
ascertain the truth.
Joyce touched his commander's arm, but no sign of consciousness came
from the latter. He then raised his body upright, placing the back in a
reclining attitude against the rocks, and started back himself when he
caught a glimpse of the death-like hue of the face. At first, the
notion of the fit was strong with the serjeant; but, in changing his
own position, he caught a glimpse of a little pool of blood, which at
once announced that violence had been used.
Although the serjeant was a man of great steadiness of nerves, and
unchangeable method, he fairly trembled as he ascertained the serious
condition of his old and well-beloved commander. Notwithstanding, he
was too much of a soldier to neglect anything that circumstances
required. On examination, he discovered a deep and fatal wound between
two of the ribs, which had evidently been inflicted with a common
knife. The blow had passed into the heart, and Captain Willoughby was,
out of all question, dead! He had breathed his last, within six feet of
his own gallant son, who, ignorant of all that passed, was little
dreaming of the proximity of one so dear to him, as well as of his dire
condition.
Joyce was a man of powerful frame, and, at that moment, he felt he was
master of a giant's strength. First assuring himself of the fact that
the wounded man had certainly ceased to breathe, he brought the arms
over his own shoulders, raised the body on his back, and walked from
the place, with less attention to caution than on entering, but with
sufficient care to prevent exposure. Nick stood watching his movements
with a wondering look, and as soon as there was room, he aided in
supporting the corpse.
In this manner the two went up the path, bearing their senseless
burden. A gesture directed the party with Jamie to precede the two who
had been below, and the serjeant did not pause even to breathe, until
he had fairly reached the summit of the cliff; then he halted in a
place removed from the danger of immediate discovery. The body was laid
reverently on the ground, and Joyce renewed his examination with
greater ease and accuracy, until perfectly satisfied that the captain
must have ceased to breathe, nearly an hour.
This was a sad and fearful blow to the whole party. No one, at such a
moment, thought of inquiring into the manner in which their excellent
master had received his death-blow; but every thought was bent either
on the extent of the calamity, or on the means of getting back to the
Hut. Joyce was the soul of the party. His rugged face assumed a stern,
commanding expression; but every sign of weakness had disappeared. He
gave his orders promptly, and the men even started when he spoke, so
bent on obtaining obedience did he appear to be.
The rifles were converted into a bier, the body was placed upon it, and
the four men then raised the burthen, and began to retrace their
footsteps, in melancholy silence. Nick led the way, pointing out the
difficulties of the path, with a sedulousness of attention, and a
gentleness of manner, that none present had ever before witnessed in
the Tuscarora He even appeared to have become woman, to use one of his
own peculiar expressions.
No one speaking, and all the men working with good will, the retreat,
notwithstanding the burthen with which it was encumbered, was made with
a rapidity greatly exceeding the advance. Nick led the way with an
unerring eye, even selecting better ground than that which the white
men had been able to find on their march. He had often traversed all
the hills, in the character of a hunter, and to him the avenues of the
forest were as familiar as the streets of his native town become to the
burgher. He made no offer to become one of the bearers; this would have
been opposed to his habits; but, in all else, the Indian manifested
gentleness and solicitude. His apprehension seemed to be, and so he
expressed it, that the Mohawks might get the scalp of the dead man; a
disgrace that he seemed as solicitous to avoid as Joyce himself; the
serjeant, however, keeping in view the feelings of the survivors,
rather than any notions of military pride.
Notwithstanding the stern resolution that prevailed among the men, that
return march was long and weary. The distance, of itself, exceeded two
miles, and there were the inequalities and obstacles of a forest to
oppose them. Per severance and strength, however, overcame all
difficulties; and, at the end of two hours, the party approached the
point where it became necessary to enter the bed of the rivulet, or
expose their sad procession by marching in open view of any who might
be straggling in the rear of the Hut. A species of desperate
determination had influenced the men in their return march, rendering
them reckless of discovery, or its consequences; a circumstance that
had greatly favoured their object; the adventurous and bold frequently
encountering fewer difficulties, in the affairs of war, than the
cautious and timid. But an embarrassment now presented itself that was
far more difficult to encounter than any which proceeded from personal
risks. The loving family of the deceased was to be met; a wife and
daughters apprised of the fearful loss that, in the providence of God,
had suddenly alighted on their house.
"Lower the body, men, and come to a halt," said Joyce, using the manner
of authority, though his voice trembled "we must consult together, as
to our next step."
There was a brief and decent pause, while the party placed the lifeless
body on the grass, face uppermost, with the limbs laid in order, and
everything about it, disposed of in a seemliness that betokened
profound respect for the senseless clay, even after the noble spirit
had departed. Mike alone could not resist his strong native propensity
to talk. The honest fellow raised a hand of his late master, and,
kissing it with strong affection, soliloquized as follows, in a tone
that was more rebuked by feeling, than any apprehension of
consequences.
"Little need had ye of a praist, and extreme unction," he said. "The
likes of yerself always kapes a clane breast; and the knife that went
into yer heart found nothing that ye need have been ashamed of! Sorrow
come over me, but yer lass is as great a one to meself, as if I had
tidings of the sinking of ould Ireland into the salt say, itself; a
thing that niver _can_ happen, and niver will happen; no, not even
at the last day; as all agree the wor-r-ld is to be burned and not
drowned. And who'll there be to tell this same to the Missus, and Miss
Beuly, and phratty Miss Maud, and the babby, in the bargain? Divil bur-
r-n me, if 't will be Michael O'Hearn, who has too much sorrow of his
own, to be running about, and d'aling it out to other people. Sarjeant,
that will be ver own jewty, and I pities the man that has to perform
it."
"No man will see me shrink from a duty, O'Hearn," said Joyce, stiffly,
while with the utmost difficulty he kept the tears from breaking out of
a fountain that had not opened, in this way, for twenty years. "It may
bear hard on my feelings--I do not say it will _not_--but duty is
duty, and it must be done. Corporal Allen, you see the state of things;
the commanding officer is among the casualties, and nothing would be
simpler than our course, were it not for Madam Willoughby--God bless
her, and have her in His holy keeping--and the young ladies. It is
proper to deliberate a little about _them_. To you then, as an
elderly and experienced man, I first apply for an opinion."
"Sorrow's an unwelcome guest, whether it comes expected, or without any
previous knowledge. The hairts o the widow and fairtherless must be
stricken, and it's little that a' our consolations and expairiments
will prevail ag'in the feelin's o' natur'. Pheeloosophy and religion
tall us that the body's no mair than a clod o' the valley when the
speerit has fled; but the hairt is unapt to listen to wisdom while the
grief is fraish, and of the severity of an unlooked-for sairtainty.
_I_ see little good, therefore, in doing mair than just sending in a
messenger, to clear the way a little for the arrival of truth, in the
form o' death, itsal'."
"I have been thinking of this--will you take the office, Jamie, as a
man of years and discretion?"
"Na--na--ye'll be doing far better by sending a younger man. Age has
weakened my memory, and I'll be overlooking some o' the saircumstances
in a manner that will be unseemly for the occasion. Here is Blodget, a
youth of ready wit, and limber tongue."
"I wouldn't do it, mason, to be the owner of ten such properties as
this!" exclaimed the young Rhode Islander, actually recoiling a step,
as if he retreated before a dreaded foe.
"Well, sairjeant, ye've Michael here, who belangs to a kirk that has so
little seempathy with protestantism as to lessen the pain o' the
office. Death is a near ally to religion, and Michael, by taking a
religious view o' the maither, might bring his hairt into such a
condition of insensibility as wad give him little to do but to tell
what has happened, leaving God, in his ain maircy, to temper the wind
to the shorn lamb."
"You hear, O'Hearn?" said the serjeant, stiffly--"Everybody seems to
expect that you will do this duty."
"Jewty!--D 'ye call it a jewty for a man in my situation to break the
hearts of Missus, and Miss Beuly, and phratty Miss Maud, and the babby?
for babbies has hearts as well as the stoutest man as is going. Divil
bur-r-n me, then, if ye gets out of my mout' so much as a hint that the
captain's dead and gone from us, for ever and ever, amen! Ye may send
me in, for ye 're corporals, and serjeants, and the likes of yees, and
I'll obey as a souldier, seem' that he would have wished as much
himself, had the breat' staid in his body, which it has not, on account
of its l'aving his sowl on 'arth, and departing with his corporeal part
for the mansions of happiness, the Blessed Mary have mercy on him,
whether here or _there_--but the captain was not the man to wish a
fait'ful follower to afflict his own wife; and so I'll have not'in' to
do with such a message, at all at all."
"Nick go"--said the Indian, calmly--"Used to carry message--carry him
for cap'in, once more."
"Well, Nick, you may do it certainly, if so disposed," answered Joyce,
who would have accepted the services of a Chinese rather than undertake
the office in person. "You will remember and speak to the ladies
gently, and not break the news too suddenly."
"Yes--squaw soft heart--Nick know--had moder--had wife, once--had
darter."
"Very well; this will be an advantage, men, as Nick is the only married
man among us; and married men should best understand dealing with
females."
Joyce then held a private communication with the Tuscarora, that lasted
some five or six minutes, when the last leaped nimbly into the bed of
the stream, and was soon concealed by the bushes of one of its reaches.