The Scouts of the Valley

by Joseph A. Altsheler

  CHAPTER XXII. LITTLE BEARD'S TOWN

  The trumpets called early the next morning, and the five rose,refreshed, ready for new labors. The fires were already lighted, andbreakfast was cooking. Savory odors permeated the forest. But as soon asall had eaten, the army marched, going northward and westward, intendingto cut through the very center of the Iroquois country. Orders had comefrom the great commander that the power of the Six Nations, which hadbeen so long such a terrible scourge on the American frontier, must beannihilated. They must be made strangers in their own country. Women andchildren were not to be molested, but their towns must perish.

  As Thayendanegea had said the night before the Battle of the Chemung,the power beyond the seas that had urged the Iroquois to war on theborder did not save them. It could not. British and Tories alike hadpromised them certain victory, and for a while it had seemed that thepromises would come true. But the tide had turned, and the Iroquois werefugitives in their own country.

  The army continued its march through the wilderness, the scouts in frontand heavy parties of riflemen on either flank. There was no chance fora surprise. Henry and his comrades were aware that Indian bands stilllurked in the forest, and they had several narrow escapes from thebullets of ambushed foes, but the progress of the army was irresistible.Nothing could check it for a moment, however much the Indian and Torychiefs might plan.

  They camped again that night in the forest, with a thorough ring ofsentinels posted against surprise, although there was little danger ofthe latter, as the enemy could not, for the present at least, bring asufficient force into the field. But after the moon had risen, the five,with Heemskerk, went ahead through the forest. The Iroquois town ofKanawaholla lay just ahead, and the army would reach it on the morrow.It was the intention of the scouts to see if it was still occupied.

  It was near midnight when the little party drew near to Kanawahollaand watched it from the shelter of the forest. Like most other Iroquoistowns, it contained wooden houses, and cultivated fields were about it.No smoke rose from any of the chimneys, but the sharp eyes of the scoutssaw loaded figures departing through a great field of ripe and wavingcorn. It was the last of the inhabitants, fleeing with what they couldcarry. Two or three warriors might have been in that group of fugitives,but the scouts made no attempt to pursue. They could not restrain alittle feeling of sympathy and pity, although a just retribution wascoming.

  "If the Iroquois had only stood neutral at the beginning of the war, aswe asked them," said Heemskerk, "how much might have been spared to bothsides! Look! Those people are stopping for a moment."

  The burdened figures, perhaps a dozen, halted at the far edge of thecorn field. Henry and Paul readily imagined that they were taking alast look at their town, and the feeling of pity and sympathy deepened,despite Wyoming, Cherry Valley, and all the rest. But that feelingnever extended to the white allies of the Iroquois, whom Thayendanegeacharacterized in word and in writing as "more savage than the savagesthemselves."

  The scouts waited an hour, and then entered the town. Not a soul was inKanawaholla. Some of the lighter things had been taken away, but thatwas all. Most of the houses were in disorder, showing the signs of hastyflight, but the town lay wholly at the mercy of the advancing army.Henry and his comrades withdrew with the news, and the next day, whenthe troops advanced, Kanawaholla was put to the torch. In an hour it wassmoking ruins, and then the crops and fruit trees were destroyed.

  Leaving ruin behind, the army continued its march, treading the Iroquoispower under foot and laying waste the country. One after anotherthe Indian towns were destroyed, Catherinetown, Kendaia,Kanadesaga, Shenanwaga, Skoiyase, Kanandaigua, Honeyoye, Kanaghsawa,Gathtsewarohare, and others, forming a long roll, bearing the soundingIroquois names. Villages around Cayuga and other lakes were burnedby detachments. The smoke of perishing towns arose everywhere inthe Iroquois country, while the Iroquois themselves fled before theadvancing army. They sent appeal after appeal for help from those towhom they had given so much help, but none came.

  It was now deep autumn, and the nights grew cold. The forests blazedwith brilliant colors. The winds blew, leaves rustled and fell. Thewinter would soon be at hand, and the Iroquois, so proud of what theyhad achieved, would have to find what shelter they could in the forestsor at the British posts on the Canadian frontier. Thayendanegea wasdestined to come again with bands of red men and white and inflict greatloss, but the power of the Six Nations was overthrown forever, afterfour centuries of victory and glory. Henry, Paul, and the rest were allthe time in the thick of it. The army, as the autumn advanced, marchedinto the Genesee Valley, destroying everything. Henry and Paul, asthey lay on their blankets one night, counted fires in three differentdirections, and every one of the three marked a perishing Indianvillage. It was not a work in which they took any delight; on thecontrary, it often saddened them, but they felt that it had to be done,and they could not shirk the task.

  In October, Henry, despite his youth, took command of a body of scoutsand riflemen which beat up the ways, and skirmished in advance of thearmy. It was a democratic little band, everyone saying what he pleased,but yielding in the end to the authority of the leader. They were nowfar up the Genesee toward the Great Lakes, and Henry formed the plan ofadvancing ahead of the army on the great Seneca village known variouslyas the Seneca Castle and Little Beard's Town, after its chief, a fullmatch in cruelty for the older Seneca chief, Hiokatoo. Several causesled to this decision. It was reported that Thayendanegea, Timmendiquas,all the Butlers and Johnsons, and Braxton Wyatt were there. While notlikely to be true about all, it was probably true about some of them,and a bold stroke might effect much.

  It is probable that Henry had Braxton Wyatt most in mind. The renegadewas in his element among the Indians and Tories, and he had developedgreat abilities as a partisan, being skillfully seconded by the squatTory, Coleman. His reputation now was equal at least to that of WalterButler, and he had skirmished more than once with the vanguard of thearmy. Growing in Henry's heart was a strong desire to match forces withhim, and it was quite probable that a swift advance might find him atthe Seneca Castle.

  The riflemen took up their march on a brisk morning in late autumn. Thenight had been clear and cold, with a touch of winter in it, andthe brilliant colors of the foliage had now turned to a solid brown.Whenever the wind blew, the leaves fell in showers. The sky was a fleecyblue, but over hills, valley, and forest hung a fine misty veil that isthe mark of Indian summer. The land was nowhere inhabited. They sawthe cabin of neither white man nor Indian. A desolation and a silence,brought by the great struggle, hung over everything. Many discerningeyes among the riflemen noted the beauty and fertility of the country,with its noble forests and rich meadows. At times they caught glimpsesof the river, a clear stream sparkling under the sun.

  "Makes me think o' some o' the country 'way down thar in Kentucky," saidShif'less Sol, "an' it seems to me I like one about ez well ez t'other.Say, Henry, do you think we'll ever go back home? 'Pears to me thatwe're always goin' farther an' farther away."

  Henry laughed.

  "It's because circumstances have taken us by the hand and led us away,Sol," he replied.

  "Then," said the shiftless one with a resigned air, "I hope them samecircumstances will take me by both hands, an' lead me gently, butstrongly, back to a place whar thar is peace an' rest fur a lazy an'tired man like me."

  "I think you'll have to endure a lot, until next spring at least," saidHenry.

  The shiftless one heaved a deep sigh, but his next words were whollyirrelevant.

  "S'pose we'll light on that thar Seneca Castle by tomorrow night?" heasked.

  "It seems to me that for a lazy and tired man you're extremely anxiousfor a fight," Henry replied.

  "I try to be resigned," said Shif'less Sol. But his eyes were sparklingwith the light of battle.

  They went into camp that night in a dense forest, with the Seneca Castleabout ten miles ahead. Henry was quite sure that the Senecas to whom itbel
onged had not yet abandoned it, and with the aid of the other tribesmight make a stand there. It was more than likely, too, that the Senecashad sharpshooters and sentinels well to the south of their town, andit behooved the riflemen to be extremely careful lest they run into ahornet's nest. Hence they lighted no fires, despite a cold night windthat searched them through until they wrapped themselves in theirblankets.

  The night settled down thick and dark, and the band lay close in thethickets. Shif'less Sol was within a yard of Henry. He had observedhis young leader's face closely that day, and he had a mind of uncommonpenetration.

  "Henry," he whispered, "you're hopin' that you'll find Braxton Wyatt an'his band at Little Beard's town?"

  "That among other things," replied Henry in a similar whisper.

  "That first, and the others afterwards," persisted the shiftless one.

  "It may be so," admitted Henry.

  "I feel the same way you do," said Shif'less Sol. "You see, we've knowedBraxton Wyatt a long time, an' it seems strange that one who started outa boy with you an' Paul could turn so black. An' think uv all the cruelthings that he's done an' helped to do. I ain't hidin' my feelin's. I'mjest itchin' to git at him."

  "Yes," said Henry, "I'd like for our band to have it out with his."

  Henry and Shif'less Sol, and in fact all of the five, slept that night,because Henry wished to be strong and vigorous for the followingnight, in view of an enterprise that he had in mind. The rosy Dutchman,Heemskerk, was in command of the guard, and he revolved continuallyabout the camp with amazing ease, and with a footstep so light that itmade no sound whatever. Now and then he came back in the thicket andlooked down at the faces of the sleeping five from Kentucky. "Gootboys," he murmured to himself. "Brave boys, to stay here and help. Maythey go through all our battles and take no harm. The goot and great Godoften watches over the brave."

  Mynheer Cornelius Heemskerk, native of Holland, but devoted to the newnation of which he had made himself a part, was a devout man, despite alife of danger and hardship. The people of the woods do not lose faith,and he looked up at the dark skies as if he found encouragement there.Then he resumed his circle about the camp. He heard various noises-thehoot of an owl, the long whine of a wolf, and twice the footsteps ofdeer going down to the river to drink. But the sounds were all natural,made by the animals to which they belonged, and Heemskerk knew it.Once or twice he went farther into the forest, but he found nothing toindicate the presence of a foe, and while he watched thus, and beat upthe woods, the night passed, eventless, away.

  They went the next day much nearer to the Seneca Castle, and saw sureindications that it was still inhabited, as the Iroquois evidently werenot aware of the swift advance of the riflemen. Henry had learned thatthis was one of the largest and strongest of all the Iroquois towns,containing between a hundred and two hundred wooden houses, and with apopulation likely to be swollen greatly by fugitives from the Iroquoistowns already destroyed. The need of caution--great caution--was bornein upon him, and he paid good heed.

  The riflemen sought another covert in the deep forest, now about threemiles from Little Beard's Town, and lay there, while Henry, accordingto his plan, went forth at night with Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross. He wasresolved to find out more about this important town, and his enterprisewas in full accord with his duties, chief among which was to save thevanguard of the army from ambush.

  When the complete darkness of night had come, the three left the covert,and, after traveling a short distance through the forest, turned intoward the river. As the town lay on or near the river, Henry thoughtthey might see some signs of Indian life on the stream, and from thisthey could proceed to discoveries.

  But when they first saw the river it was desolate. Not a canoe wasmoving on its surface, and the three, keeping well in the undergrowth,followed the bank toward the town. But the forest soon ceased, and theycame upon a great field, where the Senecas had raised corn, and wherestalks, stripped of their ears and browned by the autumn cold, werestill standing. But all the work of planting, tending, and reaping thisgreat field, like all the other work in all the Iroquois fields, hadbeen done by the Iroquois women, not by the warriors.

  Beyond the field they saw fruit trees, and beyond these, faint linesof smoke, indicating the position of the great Seneca Castle. The drycornstalks rustled mournfully as the wind blew across the field.

  "The stalks will make a little shelter," said Henry, "and we must crossthe field. We want to keep near the river."

  "Lead on," said Shif'less Sol.

  They took a diagonal course, walking swiftly among the stalks andbearing back toward the river. They crossed the field without beingobserved, and came into a thick fringe of trees and undergrowth alongthe river. They moved cautiously in this shelter for a rod or two,and then the three, without word from any one of them, stoppedsimultaneously. They heard in the water the unmistakable ripple made bya paddle, and then the sound of several more. They crept to the edge ofthe bank and crouched down among the bushes. Then they saw a singularprocession.

  A half-dozen Iroquois canoes were moving slowly up the stream. They werein single file, and the first canoe was the largest. But the aspect ofthe little fleet was wholly different from that of an ordinary groupof Iroquois war canoes. It was dark, somber, and funereal, and inevery canoe, between the feet of the paddlers, lay a figure, stiffand impassive, the body of a chief slain in battle. It had all theappearance of a funeral procession, but the eyes of the three, as theyroved over it, fastened on a figure in the first canoe, and, used asthey were to the strange and curious, every one of them gave a start.

  The figure was that of a woman, a wild and terrible creature, who halfsat, half crouched in the canoe, looking steadily downward. Her longblack hair fell in disordered masses from her uncovered head. She wore abrilliant red dress with savage adornments, but it was stained and torn.The woman's whole attitude expressed grief, anger, and despair.

  "Queen Esther!" whispered Henry. The other two nodded.

  So horrifying had been the impression made upon him by this woman atWyoming that he could not feel any pity for her now. The picture of thegreat war tomahawk cleaving the heads of bound prisoners was still toovivid. She had several sons, one or two of whom were slain in battlewith the colonists, and the body that lay in the boat may have been oneof them. Henry always believed that it was-but he still felt no pity.

  As the file came nearer they heard her chanting a low song, and now sheraised her face and tore at her black hair.

  "They're goin' to land," whispered Shif'less Sol.

  The head of the file was turned toward the shore, and, as it approached,a group of warriors, led by Little Beard, the Seneca chief, appearedamong the trees, coming forward to meet them. The three in their covertcrouched closer, interested so intensely that they were prepared tobrave the danger in order to remain. But the absorption of the Iroquoisin what they were about to do favored the three scouts.

  As the canoes touched the bank, Catharine Montour rose from hercrouching position and uttered a long, piercing wail, so full of grief,rage, and despair that the three in the bushes shuddered. It wasfiercer than the cry of a wolf, and it came back from the dark forest interrifying echoes.

  "It's not a woman, but a fiend," whispered Henry; and, as before, hiscomrades nodded in assent.

  The woman stood erect, a tall and stalwart figure, but the beauty thathad once caused her to be received in colonial capitals was long sincegone. Her white half of blood had been submerged years ago in her Indianhalf, and there was nothing now about her to remind one of civilizationor of the French Governor General of Canada who was said to have beenher father.

  The Iroquois stood respectfully before her. It was evident that she hadlost none of her power among the Six Nations, a power proceeding partlyfrom her force and partly from superstition. As the bodies were broughtashore, one by one, and laid upon the ground, she uttered the longwailing cry again and again, and the others repeated it in a sort ofchorus.

&nbs
p; When the bodies-and Henry was sure that they must all be those ofchiefs-were laid out, she tore her hair, sank down upon the ground, andbegan a chant, which Tom Ross was afterwards able to interpret roughlyto the others. She sang:

  The white men have come with the cannon and bayonet, Numerous as forest leaves the army has come. Our warriors are driven like deer by the hunter, Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

  Our towns are burned and our fields uprooted, Our people flee through the forest for their lives, The king who promised to help us comes not. Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

  The great chiefs are slain and their bodies lie here. No longer will they lead the warriors in battle; No more will they drive the foe from the thicket. Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

  Scalps we have taken from all who hated us; None, but feared us in the days of our glory. But the cannon and bayonet have taken our country; Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!

  She chanted many verses, but these were all that Tom Ross could everremember or translate. But every verse ended with the melancholyrefrain: "Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!" which theothers also repeated in chorus. Then the warriors lifted up the bodies,and they moved in procession toward the town. The three watched them,but they did not rise until the funeral train had reached the fruittrees. Then they stood up, looked at one another, and breathed sighs ofrelief.

  "I don't care ef I never see that woman ag'in," said Shif'less Sol. "Shegives me the creeps. She must be a witch huntin' for blood. She is shoreto stir up the Iroquois in this town."

  "That's true," said Henry, "but I mean to go nearer."

  "Wa'al," said Tom Ross, "I reckon that if you mean it we mean it, too."

  "There are certainly Tories in the town," said Henry, "and if we are seenwe can probably pass for them. I'm bound to find out what's here."

  "Still huntin' fur Braxton Wyatt," said Shif'less Sol.

  "I mean to know if he's here," said Henry.

  "Lead on," said the shiftless one.

  They followed in the path of the procession, which was now out of sight,and entered the orchard. From that point they saw the houses and greatnumbers of Indians, including squaws and children, gathered in the openspaces, where the funeral train was passing. Queen Esther still stalkedat its head, but her chant was now taken up by many scores of voices,and the volume of sound penetrated far in the night. Henry yet reliedupon the absorption of the Iroquois in this ceremonial to give hima chance for a good look through the town, and he and his comradesadvanced with boldness.

  They passed by many of the houses, all empty, as their occupants hadgone to join in the funeral lament, but they soon saw white men-a fewof the Royal Greens, and some of the Rangers, and other Tories, who weredressed much like Henry and his comrades. One of them spoke to Shif'lessSol, who nodded carelessly and passed by. The Tory seemed satisfied andwent his way.

  "Takes us fur some o' the crowd that's come runnin' in here ahead o' thearmy," said the shiftless one.

  Henry was noting with a careful eye the condition of the town. Hesaw that no preparations for defense had been made, and there was noevidence that any would be made. All was confusion and despair. Alreadysome of the squaws were fleeing, carrying heavy burdens. The threecoupled caution with boldness. If they met a Tory they merely exchangeda word or two, and passed swiftly on. Henry, although he had seen enoughto know that the army could advance without hesitation, still pursuedthe quest. Shif'less Sol was right. At the bottom of Henry's heart wasa desire to know whether Braxton Wyatt was in Little Beard's Town, adesire soon satisfied, as they reached the great Council House, turned acorner of it, and met the renegade face to face.

  Wyatt was with his lieutenant, the squat Tory, Coleman, and he uttereda cry when he saw the tall figure of the great youth. There was no lightbut that of the moon, but he knew his foe in an instant.

  "Henry Ware!" he cried, and snatched his pistol from his belt.

  They were so close together that Henry did not have time to use aweapon. Instinctively he struck out with his fist, catching Wyatt on thejaw, and sending him down as if he had been shot. Shif'less Sol and TomRoss ran bodily over Coleman, hurling him down, and leaping across hisprostrate figure. Then they ran their utmost, knowing that their livesdepended on speed and skill.

  They quickly put the Council House between them and their pursuers, anddarted away among the houses. Braxton Wyatt was stunned, but he speedilyregained his wits and his feet.

  "It was the fellow Ware, spying among us again!" he cried to hislieutenant, who, half dazed, was also struggling up. "Come, men! Afterthem! After them!"

  A dozen men came at his call, and, led by the renegade, they began asearch among the houses. But it was hard to find the fugitives. Thelight was not good, many flitting figures were about, and the franticsearch developed confusion. Other Tories were often mistaken for thethree scouts, and were overhauled, much to their disgust and that of theoverhaulers. Iroquois, drawn from the funeral ceremony, began to joinin the hunt, but Wyatt could give them little information. He had merelyseen an enemy, and then the enemy had gone. It was quite certain thatthis enemy, or, rather, three of them, was still in the town.

  Henry and his comrades were crafty. Trained by ambush and escape, flightand pursuit, they practiced many wiles to deceive their pursuers. WhenWyatt and Coleman were hurled down they ran around the Council House, alarge and solid structure, and, finding a door on the opposite side andno one there or in sight from that point, they entered it, closing thedoor behind them.

  They stood in almost complete darkness, although at length they madeout the log wall of the great, single room which constituted the CouncilHouse. After that, with more accustomed eyes, they saw on the wall arms,pipes, wampum, and hideous trophies, some with long hair and some withshort. The hair was usually blonde, and most of the scalps had beenstretched tight over little hoops. Henry clenched his fist in thedarkness.

  "Mebbe we're walkin' into a trap here," said Shif'less Sol.

  "I don't think so," said Henry. "At any rate they'd find us if we wererushing about the village. Here we at least have a chance."

  At the far end of the Council House hung mats, woven of rushes, and thethree sat down behind them in the very heart of the Iroquois sanctuary.Should anyone casually enter the Council House they would still behidden. They sat in Turkish fashion on the floor, close together andwith their rifles lying across their knees. A thin light filteredthrough a window and threw pallid streaks on the floor, which they couldsee when they peeped around the edge of the mats. But outside theyheard very clearly the clamor of the hunt as it swung to and fro in thevillage. Shif'less Sol chuckled. It was very low, but it was a chuckle,nevertheless, and the others heard.

  "It's sorter takin' an advantage uv 'em," said the shiftless one,"layin' here in thar own church, so to speak, while they're ragin' an'tearin' up the earth everywhar else lookin' fur us. Gives me a mightysnug feelin', though, like the one you have when you're safe in a biglog house, an' the wind an' the hail an' the snow are beatin' outside."

  "You're shorely right, Sol," said Tom Ross.

  "Seems to me," continued the irrepressible Sol, "that you did git in agood lick at Braxton Wyatt, after all. Ain't he unhappy now, bitin' hisfingers an' pawin' the earth an' findin' nothin'? I feel real sorry,I do, fur Braxton. It's hard fur a nice young feller to have to suffersech disappointments."

  Shif'less Sol chuckled again, and Henry was forced to smile in thedarkness. Shif'less Sol was not wholly wrong. It would be a bitter blowto Braxton Wyatt. Moreover, it was pleasant where they sat. A hard floorwas soft to them, and as they leaned against the wall they could relaxand rest.

  "What will our fellows out thar in the woods think?" asked Tom Ross.

  "They won't have to think," replied Henry. "They'll sit quiet as we'redoing and wait."

  The noise of the hunt went on for a long time outside. War whoops camefrom different points of the village. There wer
e shrill cries of womenand children, and the sound of many running feet. After a while it beganto sink, and soon after that they heard no more noises than those ofpeople preparing for flight. Henry felt sure that the town would beabandoned on the morrow, but his desire to come to close quarters withBraxton Wyatt was as strong as ever. It was certain that the army couldnot overtake Wyatt's band, but he might match his own against it. He wasthinking of making the attempt to steal from the place when, to theirgreat amazement, they heard the door of the Council House open and shut,and then footsteps inside.

  Henry looked under the edge of the hanging mat and saw two dusky figuresnear the window.