The San Francisco call. [volume], December 06, 1903, Image 3

About The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913

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THE SUNDAY CALL.
3
the sick man: and when he was securely
lashed thereto there was little danger for
him save In some stumbling of the beast
he rode. ,
When all was ready we had first to find
our way down from the mountain top:
and now even the old borderer and tha
Indian confessed their Inability to ' do
aught but retrace their steps by the only
route they knew: namely, by that ravine
which we had twice traversed In day
light, and up which they had led the
captured horses In the dusk.
This route promised all the perils of a
gauntlet-running, since by It we must take
the risk of* meeting the fleeing fugitives
from the convoy camp. If the explosion
had spared any fit to lift and carry the
vengeance cry. But here again there was
no alternative, and we set us in order
for the descent, with Teates and the
Catawba ahead, the women and Dick in
the midst, and her Apostolic Majesty's
late captain of hussars, masquerading as
a British trooper, to bring on the rear.-
Once In motion beneath the blue-black
shadows of the pines, I quickly lost alt
sense of direction. After we had ridden
in wordless silence a short half hour or
less, and I supposed we shquld be nearlng
the head of our descending ravine, our
little cavalcade was halted suddenly in
a thickset grove of the pines, and Eph
ralm Teates appeared at my stirrup to
say:
"H'ist ye off your nag, Cap'n John,
and let's take a far*well squlnch at tne
inlmy whilst we can."
•"Where? what enemy?" I would ask,
¦lipping from the saddle at his "word.
"Why, the hoss captain's varmints, to
be sure ;\ or what-all the abomination o\
desolation has left of 'em. We ain't
more than a cat's Jump from the edge o'
the big rock where we first sot eyes on
"em this morning."
I saw not what was to be gained by
any such long-range espial in the dark
ness. None the less. I followed the old
man to the cliff's edge. He was wiser
in his forecastlngs than I was in mine.
There was a thing to look at, and light
enough to see it by. One of the missile
stones. It seems, had crashed into the
great fire, scattering the brands In all
directions. The pine-bough troop shelters
were ablaze, and creeping serpent3 of
fire were worming their way hither and
yon over the year-old leaf beds in the
wood. Ever and anon some pine sap
ling in the path of these fiery serpents
would go uo In a torchllke flare; and so,
as I say, there was light enough.
What we looked dovm upon was not
inaptly pictured out by Ephralm Yeate3*
Scripture phrase, the abomination of
desolation. Every vestige of the
camp save the glowing skeletons of the
troop shelters had disappeared, and the
swarded savanna was Decome a biacK
ened chaos-blot on the fair woodland
scene. I have said that the powder shel
tering bowlder was a cliff for size; the
mighty upheaval of tne explosion had
toppled It in ruins into the stream and
huge fragments the bigness of a wine
butt had been hurled with the storm of
lighter debris broadcast upon the camp.
. At first we saw no sign of life in all
the flrellt space. But a moment later
when three or four of the sapling torches
blazed up together we made out some
half dozen figures of human beings — ¦
whether red or white we could not ten
stumbling and reeling about among the
rocks like blind men drunken. ¦ -'
At sight of these the old hunter doffed
his cap and fell upon his knees with,
hands uplifted to pour out his zealots
soul In the awful sentences of the
Psalmist's imprecation. >
** 'Let God arise and let his Inlmles d«
scattered; let them also that hate him
flee before him. like as the smoke van
lsheth. so shalt thou drive them away,
and like as the wax melteth at the fire,
so let the ungodl* perish at the presence
of God • • * T>r
XXXI.
IN' WHICH WE MAKE A FORCED
MARCH.
It could have been but little short of
midnight when we came down Into the
Great Trace near the ambush ground
where we had set our trap for the peace
men.
The night had cleared most beauti
fully, and overhead the stars were burn-
Ing like points of white fire In the black
dome of the heavens. As often happens
after a shower, the night shrtlilngs of
the forest were in fullest tide, and a
whlp-will*s-wldow. disturbed at our ap
proach, fluttered to a higher perch and
set up his plaintive protest.
' As our turning eastward on the trace,
the old hunter massed our little com
pany as compactly as the path allowed,
and giving us the word to follow cau
tiously, tossed his bridle rein to the
Catawba and went on ahead to feel out
the way.
This rearrangement set me to ride
abreast with Margery, and for the first
time since that fateful night in the up
per room at Appleby Hundred we were
together and measurably alone.
Since death might be lying In wait for
us at any turn In the winding bridle
path I had no mind to break the
strained- silence. But, womanlike, she
would not miss the chance to thrust at
me.
"Are you not aflre with shame. Cap
tain Ireton?" she said, bitterly, and then,
"How you must despise me!"
.* I knew not what she meant, but be
ing most anxious for her sarety. I begged
her not to talk, putting it all upon the
risk we ran In passing the outlet of the
sunken valley. Now, as you have long
since learned, my tongue was but a
skilless servant, and though I sought to
make the command the gentlest piea, she
took Instant umbrage and struck back
smartly. *
"You need not make the danger an ex
cuse. I will be still, and when I speak
to you again you will De willing enough
to hear me. I promise you!"
"Nay, then, dear lady, you must not
take It sol" I protested. "'Tls my mis
fortune to be ever blundering."
But to this she gave me no answer at
all. and barring a word or two of heart
ening to her serving woman, she never
opened her lips again throughout the
perilous passage. - . . *
By good hap we came to the crossing
of the cavern* ' stream without meeting
any foeman, and on the farther side of
the shallow ford we found the old bor
derer awaiting us.
"Ez I allow,. we've smelt the bait In
the trap and come off with whole bones,
like Shadrach, Mesbach and Abednego."
he said, mixing metaphor. Scripture
phrase and frontier Idiom as was his
wont. Then he put a leg over his horse
and gave the stirrup word: "From now'
on. old Jehu, the son o' Nlmshi. Is the
hoss-whipper we've got to beat. Get ye
behind. Cap'n John, and give the hoss
that lags a half -Inch 'r so or your sword
p'lnt."
Then and there began a night flight
long to be remembered. Down the val
ley of the swift river to the ford where
Ytates and I had crossed after the mock
rescue of. Margery the night before, we
let the horses pick the way as they
could. But once beyond the ford, where
the trace was wider and the footing less
' precarious we piled whip and spur. push-
Ing the saddle-beasts for every stride we
could get out of them in the blind race.
• I have marveled often that we came
not to grief In all this long night gallop
through the darkness. There was every
chano> for It. ~The overarching trees of
the great forest shut out all the star
light, and the trace was no more than
a bridle-path, rougher tf an any cart
road. Yet we held the breakneck pace
steadily, save 'for the time It took to
thread some steep defile to a stream
crossing or to scramble up its fellow on
Ing volley the Englishmen were ' thrown
into confusion; while the Indians, sum
moned by the firing and the shrilling of
the captain's whistle, dashed blindly Into
the trap. At the right moment Unca
noola touched' off his powder train and
cut in with a clear field for his rescue of
• Dick and me. . .
Of the complete success of these
various climaxlngs, Ephralm Yeates
had his first assurance , when we
three ' came safely to the rendez
vous; for. after firing his masked
battery, the old ' hunter lost no
time In rejoining the women and in has
tening with them out of the valley. Had
these. three been afoot we might have
overtaken them; but Yeates had been
lucky enough to stumble upon the black
mare peacefully cropping the grass In a
little glade; and with this mount for
Margery and her, tire- woman he had
easily 'outpaced us.
All this I had from Yeates what time
> Margery was pouring the wine and oil of
: womanly sympathy Into Richard's
•woundlngs; and I may confess that
while the ear was listening to the hun
ter's tale, the eye was taking ¦ note of
these her tender ministrations, ana the
heart was seulng them down to the
score of a great love which would not be
denied. ' 'Twas altogether as I would
have had it; and yet the thought came
unbidden that she might spare a niggard
moment and the breath to ask me how I
did. And because she would not, I do
think my burns smarted the crueler.
It was to have surcease of these extra
smartings that I turned my back upon
the trio under the flaring torch and took
up with Ephralm Yeates the pressing
question of the moment. r^
"As I take It, we may not linger here,"
I said. "Have you marked out a line of
retreat?" -• . ¦ \
The old borderer was busied with his
loot of the Indian camp— 'twas not In
his nature*! to come off empty-handed,
however hard pressed* he had . been for
time. In the raffle of it, guns and pis
tols, dressed skins and warrior finery, he
came upon my good blade and Richard's
great claymore — trophies claimed by the
head men of the Cherokees after our tak
ing, as we made no doubt.
"Found 'em hanging In the lodge that
usen to belong to the Great Bear," said
the hunter, and then with grim humor:
'"Lowed to keep 'em to ricollect ye* by
if so be ye was foreordained and predes
tinated to go up In a fiery chariot, like
the good old Elijah." The weapons dis
posed of, he made answer to my query.
"Ez for making tracks immejltly, if not
sooner, I allow there ain't no two notions
about that. , But I'm dad-daddled if I
know which-a-way to put out, Cap'n
John,- and that's the gospll fact."
"Why not strike for the Great Trace,
and so go back the way the powder con
voy came?" I asked.
It could be done, he said, but the haz
ard was great. 'Twas out of all reason
to hope that there were no survivors left
In the sunken valley to carry the news of
the earthquake massacre. That news
once cried abroad In the near-by Cowee
Towns, the entire Tuckasege nation
would turn out to. run us down.! More-
[ over,' the avengers would look to find us
In, the only practicable horse path lead
ing eastward. -
"Ez I'm telling you right now. Cap'n
. John, we made one more blunder In this
here onfall of our'n, owln' to our having
ne'er a seventh son of a seventh son
among us to look a little ways ahead.
Where we flashed In the pan was In not
making our rendyvoo down yonder
where you and Cap'n Dick got In. Ever*
last . t one of . 'em able to crawl is
a- making straight for that crlwls
dodge-hole right now. and lf-.we^was
I there we could do 'em like the Glleadltes
did tha men o' Ephralm at the passages
o* the Jordan." ¦
Fresh as I was from the torture fire. I
could not forbear a shudder at this old
man's savagery.
"Kill them In cold blood?" I would say.
"Anan?" he queried, as not under
standing my point of view; and I let the
matter rest. He was of those who slay
and spare not where an .enemy Is con
cerned.
But when we came to consider It
there seemed to be no alternative to the
eastward flitting by way of the Great
Trace. To the west and south there was
only the trackless wilderness; and to the
north no white settlement nearer than
that of the over-mountain folk on the
¦ Watauga. I asked If we might hope to
reach this. V
" 'Tls a long fifty, mile ez the crow
flies, over e'enabout the mountalnousest
patch <f land that ever laid out o" doors."
was the hunter's reply. "And there ain't
ne'er a deer track, ez I knows on, to p'lnt
the way."
"Then we must ride eastward and run
the risk of pursuit by the Tuckaseges,"
said I.
"Ez I reckon, that's about the long and
short of it. And I do everlastedly de-'
spise to make that poor little gal Jump
¦her hoss and rida sklmper-scamper
again, when she's been fair living a
horseback for a fortnight."
; "She will not fall you," I ventured to
say, adding: ."But Jennifer Is in poor
fettle for making speed." '
"It's ride or be skulped for him, and I
allow he'll ride," quoth the old hunter,
hastening his preparations for the start
"Reckon we can get him on a hoss right
now."
I went to see. Margery rose at my
approach, and even In the poor light I
could see her draw herself up as If she
would hold me at my proper distance.
"Your patient. Mistress Margery — vi
must mount and ride at once. Is he fit?"
"No.:*
"But we must be far to the eastward
' before daybreak." . .
"I # cannot help It If you make him
ride to-night you will finish what those
cruel savages began*. Captain Ireton."
"We have little choice — none. I should
say."
"Oh, yon . are bitter hard I" she cried,
though wherein my offending lay Just
then I was wholly at a loss to know.
" 'Tis your privilege to say. so," I re
joined. "But as for making Dick ride,
that will be but the kindest cruelty.. We
are. only a little way from the nearest
Indian towns, and If the daylight find
us'here— " v^C
\ "Spare, 1 me," : she broke In; and with
that she ,- turned shortly and - asked
• Ephralm Yeates to put her. In her saddle.
Richard ':¦) was , still In the fever
stupor, but. he v ' roused himself at
my urging- and let us set him upon
his best. - Once safe In the saddle, we
lashed him ¦ fast . like a prisoner, with a
forked tree branch at his back to hold
him erect. This last was the old hunter's
Invention and 'twas 'most Ingenious. The
forked limb. In shape like a Y, was set
astride the can tie, with the lower ends
thonged stoutly to Dick's legs and to the
girths. Thus the upright stem of the In
verted.Y became an easy back rest for
ears he fought loose from Che Indian and
flung himself down,' crying as if his heart
would break. ¦ . V
"O God ! she's lost! she's lost! And I
have missed the chance to die with her
or lor her!'.' ¦¦ ,. .
; CHAPTER XXX. .
HOW BPHRAIM YEATES PRAYED
v. FOR HIS ENEMIES. '. : '
. However much or '.little : the Catawba
understpod i,of Richard Jennifer's grief
or its cause, the faithful Indian had a
thing, to do and. he did It, loosing his
grasp . of to turn ; and j fall ; upon Dick
with pul!ings ' and haulings and 'buffet
ings, fit to bring a man alive out of a
very stiffening rigor of despair.
; So, i in ; a , hjEind-space "-, he i had him up,
and we were pressing on ¦ again. In mid
night • darkness - once we ' had passed be
yond ; the' light of our; grilling fires. No
word was spoken. Under the impatient
urging of the Indian there was little
breath to spare for ; speech. But when
Richard's afterthought had set its fangs
In him he . called a halt and would not
be denied.
VGo \ on, you two, ¦• If you are set upon
it," he said. "I : must go back. Bethink
you, Jack, what : if she should be only
maimed and not. killed outright. "Tls too
horrible^ I'm going back, I say." "-"'
The Catawba grunted his disgust.
,- "Captain Jennlf talk fas'; * no
run- , fas'. What think? "White
.squaw.*' yonder— no yonder," pointing
first forward arid then back in the direc
tion of the stricken camp. V
"Richard spun around and gripped the
Indian by the shoulders. : "Then she Is
«llve | and safe?" he burst out. "Speak,
friend, while I leave the breath In you
to do it!"
"Ugh!" said the chief, In nowise moved
either by Jennifer's violence or by the
dog-like shake. "What for Captain Jen
nif* think pappoose thinks 'bout the Gray
Wolf and poor Injun? Catch um white
squaw firs'; then blow urn up Chelakee
camp and catch um Captain Jennlf and
Captain Longknif e if . I can. Heap do
firs' thing firs', and las' thing las'. Wah!"
It was the longest speech this devoted
ally of | ours was ever known to make;
and having made It he went dumb again
save for his urglngs of us forward. But
presently both be and I had our hands
full with the poor lad. The swift transi
tion from despair to Joy proved too much
for .Dick; and. besides, the fever was .In
his blood and he was grievously burned.
So when we went stumbling on
through the cloud-darkened wood, locked
arm in arm like three drunken men. trip
ping over ' snares and bramble nets
spread for our feet, and getting well
sprinkled by the dripping foliage. And
at. the last, whe.n we reached the ravine
the valley's head, Dick was muttering
in the fever delirium and we were well
nigh carrying him a dead weight be
tween us.
'Twas a most heart-breaking business,
getting the poor lad up that rock ladder
of escape in the darkness; for though I
had come out of the fire with fewer
burns than the roasting of me warrant
ed, . the battle preceding it had opened the
old sword wound In my shoulder. So,
taking it all In all. I was but a short
breathed second to the faithful Catawba.
None the less, we tugged it through
after j some laborious . fashion, and were
glad enough when the steep ascent gave
place to leveler going, and we could sniff
the fragrance of the ' plateau pines and
feel their wire-like needles under foot,
By this the . shower cloud had passed
and , the stars were coming out, but It
-was still pitch black under the pines; so
dark that I started like a nervous wo
man and '.went | near to panlo .when a
: horse . snorted at ' my very ear, and a
'voice, bodiless/ as It seemed; said: • "Well,
now; the Lord be praised! If here ain't
the whole enduring-^
-What Ephralm Yeates would have
said, or did say, was lost upon me. For
now my poor Dick's strength was quite
spent, and when the chief and I were
easing him to lie at full length upon the
ground there was a quick little cry out
of the darkness, a swish of petticoats,
and my lady darted in to fall upon Rich
ard In a very transport of pity.
"Oh, my poor Dick! they have killed
you!" she sobbed; "oh, cruel, cruel!"
Then she lashed out at us. "Why don't
you strike a light? How can I find and
dress his hurts In the dark 7"
"Your pardon. Mistress Margery," *I
said; "'tis the fever has overcome him.
He has no sore* hurts, as I believe, save
the fire scorching."
"A light!" she commanded; "I must
have a light and see for myself." .
We had to humor her,- though It', was
' something against I prudence. Ephralm
found dry punk in a' rotten log, and fir
ing it with the flint and steel of a great
king's musket—one of his reavlngs from
the enemy — soon . had ' a- pine-knot torch
for her. She gave It over to the Cataw
ba to hold; and while she was cooing
over her patient and binding up his
burns In some simples gathered near at
hand by the Indian, I ' had the story of
the double rescue from the old hunter, j
Set forth, in brief, that which had
come as • a miracle to^ Dick and me fig
ured as a daring bit of -strategy made
possible by the emptying of the Indian
camp at our torture spectacle.
Yeates and the Catawba, following out
the plan agreed upon, had come within
spying distance while we were yet in the
midst of that hopeless back-to-back bat
tle, and had most wisely held aloof. But
later, wnen every Indian of the Cherokee
band was busy at our torture trees, they
set to .work.'"
With no watch to give the alarm,
'twas easy to rifle the Indian wigwams
of the firearms and ammunition. The
latter they threw ¦ Into the stream; the
muskets they loaded and trained over a
fallen tree at the northern edge of the
savanna, bringing them to bear point
blank upon the Ughthorsd guard gath
ered again around the great fire.
The next step was the cutting out of
the women; this was effected while the
baronet-captain was paying his courtesy
call on us. Like the looting of the In
dian camp, 'twas quickly planned and
"daringly done ; it asked but the quieting
of, the two trooper guards on * the * forest
side of the tepee lodge, a warning word
to Margery and her 'woman,' and a
shadow-like flitting with them over \ the
dead bodies of their late Jailers to the
shelter of the wood. "
Once . free of the camp, Yeates had
hurried his charges to a place of tempo
rary safety : farther up the valley, leav
ing the Catawba to cross the stream to
lay a train < of " dampened powder . to the
magazine. When he had led
the women to a place of safety, the old
man-left "them and ran back to his
masked battery of loaded muskets. Here,
• at ; an r owl-cry signal ;¦ from' Uncanoola, ; he
opened fire upon the redcoats.'
The 'outworking of the" coup - de main
was a triumph for; the old borderer's
shrewd generalship. At the death-deal-'
now," said I, hearing a groan from my
poor Dick.
His reply was a chattering curse, not
upon Falconnet or the Indians, but upon
his malady, the tertian fever.
"Now. by all the fiends! I'm chilling
again. Jack 1" he gasped. ' "If these cursed
wood-wolves mark it. they'll set It down
to woman cowardice and that .will break
my heart!"
Again I bade him be of good courage,
assuring him, riot derisively, as It looks
when 'tis written but, that the fire would
presently medicine the': chilling. In the
middle of the saying the lighted brand
was fetched and thrust among our fagot
ings, and the v upward-curling smoke
wreaths made ' me gasp and strangle at
the finish. ., '." /
Fora little time after the sucking in
of that first smoke-breath— -nature's ano
dyne for any one of her- poor creatures
doomed to die by flref-I saw and heard
less clearly and suffered only by antici
pation. But to. this day the smell of
burning pine wood is like a sleeping po
tion to me; and the sleep It brings is full
of dreams vaguely/troubled. ",
So, while the Indians danced and
leaped about us. brandishing their wea
pons and chanting the captives' death
song, and while the/blue and yellow
tongues of flame mounted from twig to
twig, climbing stealthily to flick at us
like little. vanishing demon whips, I saw
and heard and felt as one remote from
all the* torture, turmoil of the moment.
Through the dimming haze of sleeping
sensibility 5 the dancing savages became
as marionettes In some cunning puppet
show; and "the blood-satlned figures
stiffening against their log took shapes
less horrifying. *
'Twas Dick's voice, coming, as It
seemed, from a mighty, distance, that
broke the spell and : brought me back to
quickened agonies. He spoke in panting
gasps, aa the smoke would let him.
"One word. Jack, before we go — go to
our own place. He said — he said she
would be free to— to marry him. Tell
me • • .:.•' OGod in heaven f"
( His agony was a lash , to cut me deep
er than any flicking demon whip of flame,
yet I mutt needs add to it..
\ "Aye, Richard, I have wronged you,
wronged you* desperately; can you hear
mo yet? I say I have wronged you, and
I shall die the easier if you'll forgive — "
Once more the smoke, rising again In
denser ; clouds,: cut me off. and through
the blinding blue haze of it I saw the
Indians running up with green branches
to beat ft down lest it should spoil their
sport oversoon by smothering us out of
hand. f'^'Cfi '
. With the chance to gasp and breathe
again I would have confessed In full to
Richard Jennifer and had him shrive me
if he would. But when I /called, he did
not answer. His head was rolling from
side to side; and his handsome young
face was all drawn and distorted as in
the awful grimaces of the death throe.
You will not wonder that I could not
look at him; that I looked away for very
pity's sake, praying. that I might quickly
breathe the flames, as I made sure ha
had, and so be the sooner past the an
guish crisis. .
There was good j hope that the prayer
would have a speedy answer. The fires
were burning clearer now, leaping up in
broad dragons" tongues of -flames from
the ¦ outer . edges . of j the ' fagot V piles to
curtain off all that lay beyond.' Through
the luminous flame veil the capering say
fages took on shapes the most weird and
grotesque; and. when I had a glimpse of
the dead ' men's ' row, each j hideous | face
In it seemed to wear a grin of ' leering
triumph. " . . " ._¦-... ¦¦'.;.'
Thus far there had never been | a puff
of wind to fan the blaze. But now above
the shrilling of the Indian chant and the
crackling of the flames alow growl ol
thunder trembled In the upper air, and
a gentle breeze swept through the tree
tops. .
So now I would commend my soul to
God, making sure that . the breath he
gave would go out on the wings of the
first gust of wind that should come to
drive the fiery veil inward. But when
the gust. came It was from behind; a
sweeping besom to beat down the leap-
Ing dragons' tongues; a pouring flood ol
blessed coolness to turn the ebbing life
tide and to set the dulled senses once
more keenly. alert.
With the wind came the rain, a pass
ing summer night's shower of great
drops spattering on the leaves above and
dripping thence to fall hissing In tha
fires. Then the thunder growled again;
and into the monotonous droning of the
Indian chant, or rather rising sharp
and clear above It, came a sudden
rattling ttre of musketry from the camp
In the savanna — this, and . the sharp
skirling of the troop captain's whistle
Bhrilllng the assembly.
While the flames' lay flattened in the
wind. I saw the Indians wheel and bound
away to the rescue of their camp like a
pack of hounds in full cry. In a trice
they were wallowing through the stream
at the foot of the powder boulder; and
then.' as the flames leaped up again, a
dark form burst through the flery bar
rier, my bonds were cut. and a strong
hand plucked me out of the scorching
bell pit.
If I did aught to help It was all me
chanical. I do remember dimly some
fierce struggle to free my legs from the
blazing: tangle; this, . and the swelling
sob of Joy at the sight of the faithful
Catawba hacking. at Dick's : lashings and
dragging h,im also free of the fire. And
you may believe the welcome tears came
to ease. the pain of my seared eyes when
my poor lad— I had thought him gone
past human help— took ' two; staggering
steps and flung his arms about my neck.
Uncanoola gave us no, time to come by
easy stages to full-wit sanity. - In a
twinkling he had pounced upon us to
crush us one upon the other behind the
larger tree. And now I come upon an
other of those flitting instants so crowd
ed with happenings that the swiftest pen
must seem to make them lag.. 'Twas all
In a heart beat, as It were; the Catawba'H
freeing of us; bis flinging us to earth
behind the tree; a spurt of blinding yel
low flame f rpm the foot of the powder
cliff and a booming/ Jarring shock like
that of an earthquake.
• The momentary • glare of the yellow
flash lit up a scene most awe-inspiring.
The epoutlngr fountain of fire at the base
of the great r : powder i rock was thick
with flying missiles; and on high the very
cliff itself was tottering and ¦ crumbling.
So much I saw; then the Catawba sprang;
up to haul us afoot by main: strength,
and to i rush us, with an arm for. each,
headlong ; through the wood toward the
valley, head.
I . But Dick hung back, and when the dull
thunder .; of the '- falling rocks,' the . crash
of the tumbling cliff and the shrill death
yells of the doomed ones came to our
saw It leave the thrower's hand; saw it
coming straight, -as I would think. ¦ to
split my skulL The prompting to dodge
was well-nigh masterrul enough to over
ride the strongest will. Yet I did make
shift to hold fast, and In mid flight the
twirling ax veered aside to miss me by
a halrsbreadth, gashing the tree at my
ear when It struck.
"Bravo! well met!" cried Richard; and
then, betwixt his teem: "Here comes
mine."
As he spoke a second tomahawk was
sped. I heard it strike with a dull crash
that might have been on flesh and bone,
or on oak bark — I could not telL I dared
not look aside till Richard's taunting
laugh gave me leave to breathe again.
The Indians answered the laugh with
a yell; and now the marksmen stood out
quickly ene after another " and for
a little space the air was full . of
hurtling missiles. You fill read in the
romances of the wondrous skill of these
savages in such diversions as these; how
they will pin the victim to a tree and
never miss of sticking knife or hatchet
within the thickness of the blade where
they will. But you must take these tales
with a dash of allowance for the j ro
mancer's fancy. Truly, these Indiana of
ours threw well and skillfully; 'tis a
part of the only trade they know— the
trade of war — to send a weapon true to
the mark. None the less, some of the
missiles flew wide; and now and then
one would nip the cloth of sleeve or body
covering-^-and the flesh beneath it, as
well. ' :
Dick had more of the nlppings than I;
and though he kept up a running fire of
taunts and -gibing flings at the marks
men. I could hear the gritting oaths
aside when they pinked him.
Notwithstanding, the worst of these
miscasts fell to my lot. A hatchet, sped
by the clumsiest hand of all. missed its
curving, turned, and the helve of It
struck me fair In the stomach. Not all
the parting pangs of death, as I fondly
believe, will lay a heavier toll on forti
tude than did this grlplng-stroke which
I must endure standing erect. "Tis no
figure ot speech to say that I would have
gi\|n tha reversion of heaven, and a
crown to boot, for leave to double over
and groan out the agony of It. *
Happily for us, there were no women
with the band, so we were spared the
crueler refinements of these ante-burning
torments; the flaying alive by inch-bits,
and the sticking of blazing splints of
pitch wood in the flesh to make death a
thing to be prayed for. There was
naught of this; and tiring finally of the
marksman play, the Indians made ready
to burn us. Some ran to recover the
spent weapons; others made haste to
heap .the wood in a broad circle about
our trees; and the chief, with three or
four to help, renewed . the deer-thong
lashings.
•Twas In the reblndlng that this head
man, a right kingly looking savage as
these barbarians go, thrust a bit of pa
per Into my hand, and gave me time to
glance Its message out by the light of
the fire. 'Twas a line from Margery;
and this is what she said:
"Dear Heart: Though you must needs
believe my love Is pledged to your good
friend and mine, 'tls yours, and yours
alone, my lion-hearted one. I am pray
ing the good God to give you dying
grace, and me the courage to follow you
quickly. MARGERY.
"This by the hand of Tallachama."
For one brief Instant a wave of Joy
caught and flung me upon Its highest
crest, and all these savage tormentors
could do to me became as naught. Then
the true meaning of this her brave Ave
atque vale smote me like a space-flung
meteor, and the Joy-wave became an
ocean of. despair to engulf me In
Its blackest depths. The letter
was never meant for me; 'twas
for Richard Jennifer, who, as she
would think, must know tn"e story of her
marriage to his friend and must believe
her love went with the giving of her
hand. And she named him LJon Heart
because he was brave and true and
strong, like that first English Richard of
the kingly line.
I thrust the message back upon the
bearer of it, begging him in dumb show
to, give it quickly to my companion. I
knew not at the time if he did it, being
so crushed and blinded by this fresh mis
ery. But when the Indians drew off to
ring us In a chanting circle for the final
act, I would not let - the lad see my face
for fear he might fathom the heart
break In- me and know the cause of it.
. 'Twas at this crisis, when all was ready
and one had run to fetch the fire, that
I heard a smothered oath from Dick and
saw the Indian who was coming up to
fire the wood heaps drop his brand and
tread upon It.
"Ecod." said a voice, courtier-llke and
smoothly modulated. " 'Tls most devilish
lucky I came. Captain Ireton. Another
moment and they would have grilled, you
In the King's uniform— a rank treason,
to say naught of poor Jack Warden, left
without a clout to cover him."/
It needed not the glance aside to name
mine enemy. But I would not pleasure
him with an answer. Neither would
Richard Jennifer. He stood silent for a
little space, smiling and nursing his chin
in one hand, at his habit was. Then he
epoke again.
"I came to bid you godspeed, gentle
men. You tumbled bravely into my lit
tle trap. I made no doubt you'd follow
where the lady led, and so you did. But
you'll turn back from this. I do assure
you, if there be any virtue in an Indian
barbecue."
At this Richard could hold In no longer.
"Curse you!" he gritted. "Do you mean
that you kidnapped Mistress Stair to
draw u« out of hiding?"
"Truly," said this arch fiend, smiling
again. "Most unluckily for you, you
/both stood in my way— you see I am
speaking of It now as a thing of the past
—and I chanced upon this thought of
kllllng'two birds with the one stone; nay,
three, I should say. If you . count the
lady In."
"Have done!" choked Richard, in a
voice thick with Impotent rage. "Give
place, you hound, and let your savages
to their work}"
"At your pleasure, Mr. Jennifer. I
have no fancy for funeral-baked meats,
net or cold, though they be made, as
now, to furnish forth a marriage sup
per. I bid you good night, gentlemen.
I'll go and make that call upon the lady
which' you were bo ruda as to Interrupt
a little while ago." And with that he
turned his back upon us and strode
away, forgetting to tell his redskinned
myrmidons to strip me of that King's
uniform he was so loath to have me
burned In. .
The Cherokees waited until the master
executioner was out of. sight among the
trees. Then they set up their " infernal,
howling again, and . the fire-lighter ran
to fetch a fresh brand.
"Courage, lad! 'twill soon be ever
meadow, other savages wer« hurrying to
Join the wood carriers.
So far aa these hasting preliminaries
applied to me, their meaning was not
difficult to read. I was to be burned at
the stake In proper savage fashion. But
Richard Jennifer — what had become of
him? A. sound, half sigh, half groan,
told me where to look. Hard by. bound
to a tree as I was. and so near that with
a free hand I could have touched him.
was my poor lad.
"Dick!" I cried.
He turned his head as the dose-drawn
thongs permitted and gave me a smile as
loving- tender as a woman's.
"Aye, Jack; they have us hard and
fast this time. I have been praying
you'd never come alive enough to feel
the fire."
"We were taken together?" So much
I dared ask. ..•¦?." '-. : .;
"In the same onset Twas but a ques
tion of clock ticks In that back-to-back
business. But they paid scot and lot,"
this with an Inching nod toward a row
of naked bodies propped sitting against
a fallen tree; nine of them in all. one
with Its severed head between Its knees,
and three others showing the gaping
hacks and hewlngs of the great broad
sword.
-They've fetched them here to see u«
burn." he went on. "But by the gods, we
have the warrant of two good blades and
Ephralm Teates* hunting knife that the
only flres they'll ever see are those of
belL"
Teates?" I queried. "Then they have
taken him and the Catawba, as well?"
"Not alive, you may be sure, else we
should have them for company. But It
has a black look for our friends that the
flying column we met In the stream
cave came back so soon. More
over, the bodies of the three
peace-pipe smokers were found and
brought In; that will be the Qreat Bear
holding his head in his hands at the end
of yonder bloody masquerade."
"I guessed as much. God rest our pool
comrades!"
"Aye; and God help Madge! "Tls xw
time for reoroache*. but among us we
have signed her death warrant with out
bungllngs."
"If it were only death!" I groaned.
" 'Tls Just that. Jack," said he; "nc
better, mayhap, but no worse. When w«
were downed by that screeching moS sh«
we* out and on her knees to Falconnet,
beseeching him to spare us. He put hei
on" smoothly at first, saying 'twas th«
Indians' affair— that they would not b«
balked of their vengeance by any Inter
ference of his. But when Bhe only beg
ged the more piteously he showed hit
true colors, rapping out tnat we should
1 have as swift a quittance as we had
meant to give him, and tEat within th*
hour she should be the mistress of Ap
pleby and free to marry an English gen
tleman."
"Well?" said I, making buts that now
at last he must know all.
"At that *he stood before him brave
ly, and 1 saw that all the time she hat!
had the Catawba's knife hidden in the
folds of her gown. 'You have spoker
truth for once. Captain Falconnet; I shal!
1 be free, 1 she added. 'Come and tell mt
when you have added these to your othei
murders."
"And then?"
"Then she went bade to her prison wig
wam, walking through the rabble of red
coats and redskins as proud as the Scot
tish Mary went to the block."
'She will do it, think you?" I queried,
fearful that she would, but more fearful
lest her courage should fall at the pinch.
"Never doubt It. Good Catholic as she
is, there Is martyr blood in her on bei
mother's side, and that will help her to
die unsullied. And God nerve her to It,
say L M
I paid "Amen" to that; and thereupon
we both fell client, watching as con
demned men on the gallows the bus}
preparations for our taking off.
Again, as In the late battle. It was th«
trivial things that moved me most. Chle]
among them the grinning row of dead
Indians propped against the fallen tree
In the constant background for all the
memory pictures of that waiting Interval,
and I can see those stiffening corpses
new, some erect, as If defying us;, some
lopping this way or that; as if theii
bones had gone to water at the touct
of the steel.
I know not why these poor relics ol
mortality should have held me fascinated
as they did. Yet when I would looli
away, through the vista to where th<
light of the great fire in the savanna
camp played luridly upon the Indian
lodges, or, nearer at hand, upon the sav
ages gathering the wood to burn us
with, this ghastly file of the dead
drew me Irresistibly, and I must
needs pass the fearsome figures
in review again, marking the star
ing eyes and unnatural postures, and the
circular blood-black patches on the heads
of the three peacemen whom Yeates and
the Catawba bad scalped.
While they were making ready for the
burning, our executioners were strangely
silent; but when the work was done they
formed In a semicircle to front the row
of corpses and set up a howling chant
that would have put a band of Moham
medan dervishes to the blush.
"'Tls the death song' for the slain,"
said Richard; and while It lasted, this
moving tableau of naked figures, keep-
Ing time In a weird stamping dance to
the rising and falling ululation of the
chant, held us spellbound.
But we" were not long suffered to be
mere curious onlooffera. In Its dlsmalest
flight the death song ended .In a shrill
hubbub, and the dancers turned as one
man to face us.
I hope it may never be your lot. my
dears,'. to, meet and endure such a horrid
glare * of -human ferocity as that these
?wrought up avengers of blood bent upon
us. "T was more unnerving than aught
that had' gone before; more terrible, I
thought, than aught that could come
after. Yet. • as to this, yon shall Judge
lor '¦ yourselves. -
.-. The' pause was brief, and when a lad
ran up to cut. the thongs that bound us
from the middle up, the torture play be
gan In dVadly earnest. While the In
dian youth was slashing at the deerskin,
Richard "gave me my cue.
"'Tls the knife and hatchet play; they
are loosing us to give us .freedom to
shrink and dodge. Look straight before
and never flinch a hair, as you would
keep the life In you one minute to the
next!"
"Trust me," said L "We must eke It
out aa x long as we can to give our dear
lady time for another prayer or two.
Mayhap she will name us In them; God
knows, our need Is sore enough."
The lad ran back, and a warrior stood
out. Juggling his tomahawk In air. He
made a feint to cast it at Richard, but
Instead sent it whizzing at me.
That first missile was harder to face
unflinching than were all the others. I