CHAPTER XX. A GLOOMY COUNCIL
The next night after Henry Ware and his comrades lay in the brushwoodand saw Braxton Wyatt and his band pass, a number of men, famous orinfamous in their day, were gathered around a low camp fire on the crestof a small hill. The most distinguished of them all in looks was a youngIndian chief of great height and magnificent build, with a noble andimpressive countenance. He wore nothing of civilized attire, thenearest approach to it being the rich dark-blue blanket that was flunggracefully over his right shoulder. It was none other than the greatWyandot chief, Timmendiquas, saying little, and listening withoutexpression to the words of the others.
Near Timmendiquas sat Thayendanegea, dressed as usual in his mixtureof savage and civilized costume, and about him were other famous Indianchiefs, The Corn Planter, Red jacket, Hiokatoo, Sangerachte, LittleBeard, a young Seneca renowned for ferocity, and others.
On the other side of the fire sat the white men: the young Sir JohnJohnson, who, a prisoner to the Colonials, had broken his oath ofneutrality, the condition of his release, and then, fleeing to Canada,had returned to wage bloody war on the settlements; his brother-in-law,Colonel Guy Johnson; the swart and squat John Butler of Wyoming infamy;his son, Walter Butler, of the pallid face, thin lips, and cruel heart;the Canadian Captain MacDonald; Braxton Wyatt; his lieutenant, the darkTory, Coleman; and some others who had helped to ravage their formerland.
Sir John Johnson, a tall man with blue eyes set close together, wore thehandsome uniform of his Royal Greens; he had committed many dark deedsor permitted them to be done by men under his command, and he hadsecured the opportunity only through his broken oath, but he had lostgreatly. The vast estates of his father, Sir William Johnson, were beingtorn from him, and perhaps he saw, even then, that in return for what hehad done he would lose all and become an exile from the country in whichhe was born.
It was not a cheerful council. There was no exultation as after Wyomingand Cherry Valley and the Minisink and other places. Sir John bit hislip uneasily, and his brother-in-law, resting his hand on his knee,stared gloomily at the fire. The two Butlers were silent, and the darkface of Thayendanegea was overcast.
A little distance before these men was a breastwork about half a milelong, connecting with a bend of the river in such a manner that an enemycould attack only in front and on one flank, that flank itself beingapproached only by the ascent of a steep ridge which ran parallel to theriver. The ground about the camp was covered with pine and scrub oaks.Many others had been cut down and added to the breastwork. A deep brookran at the foot of the hill on which the leaders sat. About the slopesof this hill and another, a little distance away, sat hundreds of Indianwarriors, all in their war paint, and other hundreds of their whiteallies, conspicuous among them Johnson's Royal Greens and Butler'sRangers. These men made but little noise now. They were resting andwaiting.
Thayendanegea was the first to break the silence in the group at thefire. He turned his dark face to Sir John Johnson and said in hisexcellent English: "The king promised us that if we would take up armsfor him against the Yankees, he would send a great army, many thousands,to help us. We believed him, and we took up the hatchet for him. Wefought in the dark and the storm with Herkimer at the Oriskany, and manyof our warriors fell. But we did not sulk in our lodges. We have ravagedand driven in the whole American border along a line of hundreds ofmiles. Now the Congress sends an army to attack us, to avenge what wehave done, and the great forces of the king are not here. I have beenacross the sea; I have seen the mighty city of London and its people asnumerous as the blades of grass. Why has not the king kept his promiseand sent men enough to save the Iroquois?"
Sir John Johnson and Thayendanegea were good friends, but the soul ofthe great Mohawk chief was deeply stirred. His penetrating mind saw theuplifted hand about to strike-and the target was his own people. Histone became bitterly sarcastic as he spoke, and when he ceased he lookeddirectly at the baronet in a manner that showed a reply must be given.Sir John moved uneasily, but he spoke at last.
"Much that you say is true, Thayendanegea," he admitted, "but the kinghas many things to do. The war is spread over a vast area, and he mustkeep his largest armies in the East. But the Royal Greens, the Rangers,and all others whom we can raise, even in Canada, are here to help you.In the coming battle your fortunes are our fortunes."
Thayendanegea nodded, but he was not yet appeased. His glance fell uponthe two Butlers, father and son, and he frowned.
"There are many in England itself," he said, "who wish us harm, and whoperhaps have kept us from receiving some of the help that we ought tohave. They speak of Wyoming and Cherry Valley, of the torture and ofthe slaughter of women and children, and they say that war must notbe carried on in such a way. But there are some among us who are moresavage than the savages themselves, as they call us. It was you, JohnButler, who led at Wyoming, and it was you, Walter Butler, who allowedthe women and children to be killed at Cherry Valley, and more wouldhave been slain there had I not, come up in time."
The dark face of "Indian" Butler grew darker, and the pallid face ofhis son grew more pallid. Both were angry, and at the same time a littleafraid.
"We won at Wyoming in fair battle," said the elder Butler.
"But afterwards?" said Thayendanegea.
The man was silent.
"It is these two places that have so aroused the Bostonians against us,"continued Thayendanegea. "It is because of them that the commander ofthe Bostonians has sent a great army, and the Long House is threatenedwith destruction."
"My son and I have fought for our common cause," said "Indian" Butler,the blood flushing through his swarthy face.
Sir John Johnson interfered.
"We have admitted, Joseph, the danger to the Iroquois," he said, callingthe chieftain familiarly by his first Christian name, "but I and mybrother-in-law and Colonel Butler and Captain Butler have already lostthough we may regain. And with this strong position and the aid ofambush it is likely that we can defeat the rebels."
The eyes of Thayendanegea brightened as he looked at the longembankment, the trees, and the dark forms of the warriors scatterednumerously here and there.
"You may be right, Sir John," he said; "yes, I think you are right,and by all the gods, red and white, we shall see. I wish to fight here,because this is the best place in which to meet the Bostonians. What sayyou, Timmendiquas, sworn brother of mine, great warrior and great chiefof the Wyandots, the bravest of all the western nations?"
The eye of Timmendiquas expressed little, but his voice was sonorous,and his words were such as Thayendanegea wished to hear.
"If we fight--and we must fight--this is the place in which to meet thewhite army," he said. "The Wyandots are here to help the Iroquois, asthe Iroquois would go to help them. The Manitou of the Wyandots, theAieroski of the Iroquois, alone knows the end."
He spoke with the utmost gravity, and after his brief reply he said nomore. All regarded him with respect and admiration. Even Braxton Wyattfelt that it was a noble deed to remain and face destruction for thesake of tribes not his own.
Sir John Johnson turned to Braxton Wyatt, who had sat all the while insilence.
"You have examined the evening's advance, Wyatt," he said. "What furtherinformation can you give us?"
"We shall certainly be attacked to-morrow," replied Wyatt, "and theAmerican army is advancing cautiously. It has out strong flankingparties, and it is preceded by the scouts, those Kentuckians whom I knowand have met often, Murphy, Elerson, Heemskerk, and the others."
"If we could only lead them into an ambush," said Sir John. "Any kindof troops, even the best of regulars, will give way before an unseen foepouring a deadly fire upon them from the deep woods. Then they magnifythe enemy tenfold."
"It is so," said the fierce old Seneca chief, Hiokatoo. "When we killedBraddock and all his men, they thought that ten warriors stood in themoccasins of only one."
Sir John frowned. He did not like this allusion to the time
when theIroquois fought against the English, and inflicted on them a greatdefeat. But he feared to rebuke the old chief. Hiokatoo and the Senecaswere too important.
"There ought to be a chance yet for an ambuscade," he said. "The foliageis still thick and heavy, and Sullivan, their general, is not used toforest warfare. What say you to this, Wyatt?"
Wyatt shook his head. He knew the caliber of the five from Kentucky, andhe had little hope of such good fortune.
"They have learned from many lessons," he replied, "and their scouts arethe best. Moreover, they will attempt anything."
They relapsed into silence again, and the sharp eyes of the renegaderoved about the dark circle of trees and warriors that inclosed them.Presently he saw something that caused him to rise and walk a littledistance from the fire. Although his eye suspected and his mindconfirmed, Braxton Wyatt could not believe that it was true. It wasincredible. No one, be he ever so daring, would dare such a thing. Butthe figure down there among the trees, passing about among the warriors,many of whom did not know one another, certainly looked familiar,despite the Indian paint and garb. Only that of Timmendiquas could rivalit in height and nobility. These were facts that could not be hidden byany disguise.
"What is it, Wyatt?" asked Sir John. "What do you see? Why do you lookso startled?"
Wyatt sought to reply calmly.
"There is a warrior among those trees over there whom I have notseen here before," he replied, "he is as tall and as powerful asTimmendiquas, and there is only one such. There is a spy among us, andit is Henry Ware."
He snatched a pistol from his belt, ran forward, and fired at theflitting figure, which was gone in an instant among the trees and thewarriors.
"What do you say?" exclaimed Thayendanegea, as he ran forward, "a spy,and you know him to be such!"
"Yes, he is the worst of them all," replied Wyatt. "I know him. I couldnot mistake him. But he has dared too much. He cannot get away."
The great camp was now in an uproar. The tall figure was seen here andthere, always to vanish quickly. Twenty shots were fired at it. Nonehit. Many more would have been fired, but the camp was too much crowdedto take such a risk. Every moment the tumult and confusion increased,but Thayendanegea quickly posted warriors on the embankment andthe flanks, to prevent the escape of the fugitive in any of thosedirections.
But the tall figure did not appear at either embankment or flank. It wasnext seen near the river, when a young warrior, striving to strike witha tomahawk, was dashed to the earth with great force. The next instantthe figure leaped far out into the stream. The moonlight glimmered aninstant on the bare head, while bullets the next moment pattered on thewater where it had been. Then, with a few powerful strokes, the strangerreclaimed the land, sprang upon the shore, and darted into the woodswith more vain bullets flying about him. But he sent back a shout ofirony and triumph that made the chiefs and Tories standing on the bankbite their lips in anger.
The Scouts of the Valley Page 20
