CHAPTER XXVII
FIRE-FLIES
That night I lay on my blanket in the forest, but slept only threehours, and was awake in the gates of morning before the sun rose, readyto move on to the Wood of Brakabeen, our rendezvous in Schoharie.
Never shall I forget that August day so crowded with events.
And first in the yellow flare of sun-up, on the edge of a pasture whereacres of dew sparkled, I saw a young girl milking; and went to her tobeg a cup of new milk.
But she was very offish until she learned to what party I belonged, andthen gave me a dipper full of sweet milk.
When I had satisfied my thirst, she took me by the hand and drew me intoa grove of pines where none could observe us. And here she told me hername, which was Angelica Vrooman, and warned me not to travel throughSchoharie by any highway.
For, said she, the district was all smouldering with disloyalty, and theTories growing more defiant day by day with news of Sir John's advanceand McDonald also on the way from the southward to burn the place andmurder all.
"My God, sir," says she, in a very passion of horror and resentment, "Iknow not how we, in Schoharie, shall contrive, for Herkimer has calledout our regiment and they march this morning to their rendezvous withthe Palatine Regiment.
"What are we to do, sir? The Middle Fort alone is defensible; the Upperand Lower Forts are still a-building, and sodders still at labour, andneither ditch nor palisade begun."
"You have your exempts," said I, troubled, "and your rangers."
"Our exempts work on the forts; our rangers are few and scattered, andColonel Harper knows not where to turn for a runner or a rifleman!
"General Schuyler has writ to my father and says how he desires GeneralTen Broeck to order out the whole of the militia, only that he fearsthat they will behave like the Schenectady and Schoharie militia havedone and that very few will march unless provision is made for theirfamilies' security.
"A man rides express today to the garrison in the Highlands to pray fortwo hundred Continentals. Which is only just, as we are exposed toMcDonald and Sir John, and have already sent most of our men to theContinental Line, and have left only our regiment, which marches today,and the remainder all disaffected and plotting treason."
"Plotting treason? What do you mean, child?" I demanded anxiously.
"Why, sir, Captain Mann and his company refuse to march. He declareshimself a friend to King George, has barricaded Brick House,[36] iscollecting Indians and Tories, and swears he will join McDonald'soutlaws and destroy us unless we lay down our arms and accept royalprotection."
[Footnote 36: The house stood in the forks of the Albany and Schenectadyroad.]
"Why--why the filthy dog!" I stammered, "I have never heard the like ofsuch treason!"
"Can you help us, sir?" she asked earnestly.
"I shall endeavour to do so," said I, red with wrath.
"Our people have planned to seize and barricade Stone House," said she."My father rides express to Albany. Why, sir, so put to it are we thatHenry Hager, an aged exempt of over seventy years, is scouting for ourparty. Is our situation not pitiful?"
"Have all the young men gone? Have you no brothers to defend thishouse?"
"No, sir.... I have a lover.... He is Lieutenant Wirt, of the AlbanyLight Horse. But he has writ to my father that he can not leave hiscavalry to help us."
It was sad enough; and I promised the girl I would do what I could; andso left her, continuing on along the fences in the shadow of the woods.
It was not long afterward when I heard military music in the distance.And now, from a hill, I saw long files of muskets shining in the earlysun.
It was the Canajoharie Regiment marching with fife, drum, and bugle-hornto join Herkimer; and so near they passed at the foot of the low hillwhere I stood that I could see and recognize their mounted officers; andsaw, riding with them, Spencer, the Oneida interpreter, splendidlyhorsed; and Colonel Cox, old George Klock's smart son-in-law, who, whenBrant asked him if he were not related to that thieving villain of theMoonlight Survey, replied: "Yes, I am, but what is that to you, yous--- of an Indian!"
I saw and recognized Colonels Vrooman and Zielie, Majors Becker andEckerson, and Larry Schoolcraft, the regimental adjutant; and, sittingupon their transport waggon, Dirck Larraway, Storm Becker, Jost Bouck ofClavarack, and Barent Bergen of Kinderhook.
So, in the morning sunshine, marched the 15th N. Y. Militia, carrying inits ranks the flower of the district's manhood and the principaldefenders of the Schoharie Valley.
Very soberly I turned away into the woods.
For it was a strange and moving and dreadful sight I had beheld, knowingpersonally almost every man who was marching there toward the Britishfire, and aware that practically every soldier in those sturdy ranks hada brother, or father, or son, or relative of some description in theranks of the opposing party.
Here, indeed, were the seeds of horror that civil war sprouts! For Ithink that only the Hager family, and perhaps the Beckers, were allmustered in our own service. But there were Tory Vroomans, Swarts, VanDycks, Eckersons, Van Slycks--aye, even Tory Herkimer, too, which mostfuriously saddened our brave old General Honikol.
Well, I took to the forest as I say, but it was so thick and thetravelling so wearisome, that I bore again to the left, and presentlycame out along the clearings and pasture fences.
Venturing now to travel the highway for a little way, and being stoppedby nobody, I became more confident; and when I saw a woman washingclothes by the Schoharie Creek, I did not trouble to avoid her, butstrode on.
She heard me coming, and looked up over her shoulder; and I saw she wasa notorious slattern of the Valley, whose name, I think, was Staats, butwho was commonly known as Rya's Pup.
"Aha!" says she, clearing the unkempt hair from her ratty face. "What isForbes o' Culloden doing in Schoharie? Sure," says she, "there must beblood to sniff in the wind when a Northesk bloodhound comes herea-nosing northward!"
"Well, Madame Staats," said I calmly, "you appear to know more aboutCulloden than do I myself. Did that great loon, McDonald, tell you allthese old-wives' tales?"
"Ho-ho!" says she, her two hands on her hips, a-kneeling there by thewater's edge, "the McDonalds should know blood, too, when they smellit."
"You seem to be friends with that outlaw. And do you know where he nowis?" I asked carelessly.
"If I do," says the slut, with an oath, "it is my own affair and noneof the Forbes or Drogues or such kittle-cattle either;--mark that, myyoung cockerel, and journey about your business!"
"You are not very civil, Madame Staats."
"Why, you damned rebel," says she, "would you teach me manners?"
"God forbid, madam," said I, smiling. "I'd wear gray hairs ere youlearned your a-b-c."
"You'll wear no hair at all when McDonald is done with you," she cries,and bursts into laughter so shocking that I go on, shivering and sad tosee in any woman such unkindness.
* * * * *
About noon I saw Lawyer's Tavern; and from the fences north of the houseI secretly observed it for a long while before venturing thither.
John Lawyer, whatever his political complexion, welcomed me kindly andgave me dinner.
I asked news, and he gave an account that Brick House was now but abarracks full of Tories and Schoharie Indians, led by Sethen and LittleDavid or Ogeyonda, a runner, who now took British money and wore scarletpaint.
"We in this valley know not what to do," said he, "nor dare, indeed, doaught save take protection from the stronger party, as it chances to beat the moment, and thank God we still wear our proper hair."
And, try as I might, I could not determine to which party he trulybelonged, so wary was mine host and so fearful of committing himself.
* * * * *
The sun hung low when I came to the Wood of Brakabeen; and saw the tallforest oaks, their tops all rosy in the sunset, and the great greenpines wearing their g
ilded spires against the evening sky.
Dusk fell as I traversed the wood, where, deep within, a cool and fernyglade runs east and west, and a small and icy stream flows through thenodding grasses of the swale, setting the wet green things andspray-drenched blossoms quivering along its banks.
And here, suddenly, in the purple dusk, three Indians rose up and barredmy way. And I saw, with joy, my three Oneidas, Tahioni the Wolf, Kwiyehthe Screech-owl, Hanatoh the Water-snake, all shaven, oiled, and intheir paint; and all wearing the Tortoise and The Little Red Foot.
So deeply the encounter affected me that I could scarce speak as Ipressed their extended hands, one after another, and felt their eager,caressing touch on my arms and shoulders.
"Brother," they said, "we are happy to be chosen for the scout underyour command. We are contented to have you with us again.
"We were told by the Saguenay, who passed here on his way to the LittleFalls, that you had recovered of your hurts, but we are glad to see forourselves that this is so, and that our elder brother is strong and welland fit once more for the battle-trail!"
I told them I was indeed recovered, and never felt better than at thatmoment. I inquired warmly concerning each, and how fortune had treatedthem. I listened to their accounts of stealthy scouting, of ambushes insilent places, of death-duels amid the eternal dusk of shaggy forests,where sunlight never penetrated the matted roof of boughs.
They shewed me their scalps, their scars, their equipment, accoutrement,finery. They related what news was to be had of the enemy, saying thatStanwix was already invested by small advance parties of Mohawks underforester officers; that trees had been felled across Wood Creek; thatthe commands of Gansevoort and Willett occupied the fort on whichsoldiers still worked to sod the parapets.
Of McDonald, however, they knew nothing, and nothing concerningBurgoyne, but they had brazenly attended the Iroquois Federal Council,when their nation was summoned there, and saw their great men, Spencerand Skenandoa treated with cold indifference when the attitude of theOneida nation was made clear to the Indian Department and the SixNations.
"Then, brother," said Tahioni sadly, "our sachems covered themselves intheir blankets, and Skenandoa led them from the last Onondaga fire thatever shall burn in North America."
"And we young warriors followed," added Kwiyeh, "and we walked insilence, our hands resting on our hatchets."
"The Long House is breaking in two," said the Water-snake. "In themiddle it is sinking down. It sags already over Oneida Lake. The serpentthat lives there shall see it settling down through the deep water tolie in ruins upon the magic sands forever."
After a decent silence Tahioni patted the Little Red Foot sewed on thebreast of my hunting shirt.
"If we all are to perish," he said proudly, "they shall respect ourscalps and our memory. Haih! Oneida! We young men salute our dyingnation."
I lifted my hatchet in silence, then slowly sheathed it.
"Is our Little Maid of Askalege well?" I asked.
"Thiohero is well. The River-reed makes magic yonder in the swale," saidTahioni seriously.
"Is Thiohero here?" I exclaimed.
Her brother smiled: "She is a girl-warrior as well as our Oneidaprophetess. Skenandoa respects and consults her. Spencer, who worshipsyour white God and is still humble before Tharon, has said that mysister is quite a witch. All Oneidas know her to be a sorceress. She canmake a pair of old moccasins jump about when she drums."
"Where is she now?"
"Yonder in the glade dancing with the fire-flies."
I walked forward in the luminous dusk, surrounded by my Oneidas. And, ofa sudden, in the swale ahead I saw sparks whirling up in clouds, butperceived no fire.
"Fire-flies," whispered Tahioni.
And now, in the centre of the turbulent whirl of living sparks, I saw aslim and supple shape, like a boy warrior stripped for war, and dancingthere all alone amid the gold and myriad greenish dots of light eddyingabove the swale grass.
Swaying, twisting, graceful as a thread of smoke, the little sorceressdanced in a perfect whirlwind of fire-flies, which made an incandescentcloud enveloping her.
And I heard her singing in a low, clear voice the song that timed therhythm of her naked limbs and her painted body, from which the cincturedwampum-broidered sporran flew like a shower of jewels:
"Wood o' Brakabeen, Hiahya! Leaves, flowers, grasses green, Dancing where you lean Above the stream unseen, Hiahya! Dance, little fireflies, Like shooting stars in winter skies; Dance, little fireflies, As the Oneida Dancers whirl, Where silver clouds unfurl, Revealing a dark Heaven And Sisters Seven. Hiahya! Wood o' Brakabeen! Hiahya! Grasses green! You shall tell me what they mean Who ride hither, Who 'bide thither, Who creep unseen In red coats and in green; Who come this way, Who come to slay! Hiahya! my fireflies! Tell me all you know About the foe! Where hath he hidden? Whither hath he ridden? Where are the Maquas in their paint, Who have forgotten their Girl-Sainte?[37] Hiahya! I am The River-Reed! Hiahya! All things take heed! Naked, without drum or mask I do my magic task. Fireflies, tell me what I ask!..."
[Footnote 37: Catherine. Her shrine is at Auriesville--the Lourdes ofAmerica--where many miraculous cures are effected.]
"He-he!" chuckled The Water-snake, "Thiohero is quite a witch!"
We seated ourselves. If the Little Maid of Askalege, whirling in herdance, perceived us through her veil of living phosphorescence, she madeno sign.
And it was a long time before she stood still, swayed outward, reeledacross the grass, and fell face down among the ferns.
As I sprang to my feet Tahioni caught my arm.
"Remain very silent and still, my elder brother," he said gravely.
For a full hour, I think, the girl lay motionless among the ferns. Thecloud of fire-flies had vanished. Rarely one sparkled distantly now, faraway in the glade.
The delay, in the darkness, seemed interminable before the girl stirred,raised her head, slowly sat upright.
Then she lifted one slim arm and called softly to me:
"Nai, my Captain!"
"Nai, Thiohero!" I answered.
She came creeping through the herbage and gathered herself cross-leggedbeside me. I took her hands warmly, and released them; and she caressedmy arms and face with velvet touch.
"It is happiness to see you, my Captain," she said softly.
"Nai! Was I not right when I foretold your hurt at the fight near theDrowned Lands?"
"Truly," said I, "you are a sorceress; and I am deeply grateful to youfor your care of me when I lay wounded by Howell's house."
"I hear you. I listen attentively. I am glad," she said. "And I continueto listen for your voice, my Captain."
"Then--have you talked secretly with the fire-flies?" I asked gravely.
"I have talked with them."
"And have they told you anything, little sister?"
"The fire-flies say that many green-coats and Maquas have gone toStanwix," she replied seriously, "and that other green-coats,--who nowwear _red_ coats,--are following from Oswego."
I nodded: "Sir John's Yorkers," I said to Tahioni.
"Also," she said, "there are with them men in _strange uniforms_, whichare not American, not British."
"What!" I exclaimed, startled in spite of myself.
"Strange men in strange dress," she murmured, "who speak neither Englishnor French nor Iroquois nor Algonquin."
Then, all in an instant, it came to me what she meant--what Penelope hadmeant.
"You mean the Chasseurs from Buck Island," said I, "the Hessians!"
But she did not know, only that they wore gray and green clothing andwere tall, ruddy men--taller for the odd caps they wore, and their longlegs buttoned in black to the hips.
"Hessians," I repeated. "Hainault riflemen hired out to the King ofEngland by their greedy and contemptible German master and by that greatass, George Third, shipped hi
ther to stir in us Americans a hatred forhimself that never shall be extinguished!"
"Are their scalps well haired?" inquired Tahioni anxiously.
It seemed a ludicrous thing to say, and I was put to it to stifle mysudden mirth.
"They wear pig-tails in eel-skins, and stiffened with pomade that stinksfrom New York to Albany," said I.
Then my mood sobered again; and I thought of Penelope's vision andwondered whether I was truly fated to meet my end in combat with thesedogs of Germans.
* * * * *
The Screech-owl had made a fire. Also, before my arrival he had killedan August doe, and a haunch was now a-roasting and filling my nostrilswith a pleasant odour.
We spread our blankets and ate our parched corn, watching our meatcooking.
"And McDonald?" I inquired of Thiohero, who sat close to me and restedher head on my shoulder while eating her parched com.
"My fire-flies tell me," said she gravely, "that the outlaws travel thisway, and shall hang on the Schoharie in ambush."
"When?"
"When there is a battle near Stanwix."
"Oh. Shall McDonald come to Brakabeen?"
"Yes."
I gazed absently at the fire, slowly chewing my parched corn.
The Little Red Foot Page 27
