CHAPTER XI--THE HIDDEN TOMAHAWK
A most uncomfortable feeling of horror and astonishment held John Jeromespeechless and motionless as he looked on the appalling scene which hismoving of the brush heap had revealed. For the time all his sensesseemed to desert him and, acting on an impulse of utter dismay, hehastily drew the bulk of the brush pile over the bodies again andhurried away.
As if he would find a refuge there, John hastened to the rude shelterwhere he had spent the night and where a few coals, still bright andwarm, seemed to radiate a protecting air about the lonely spot.
All thoughts and actions are influenced more or less by one'ssurroundings, and being in the presence of that which suggested comfortand tranquillity, the startled boy was able presently to regain hiscomposure somewhat. But if ever John desired the company of Ree Kingdom,and felt the need of his aid and counsel, he did now.
If only his own inclinations were to have been consulted, Jerome wouldhave set out for home at as lively a pace as possible. Only the thoughtof the questions Ree would ask, and which he would be unable to answer,stood in his way. He could easily assure himself that, so far as his owncuriosity was concerned, he had no wish to look again upon the awfulobjects the brush covered. Yet it would not do to go back to Kingdomwith practically no definite information.
Mustering all the resolution he could, therefore, John returned to thedreadful spot, walking with great caution and with many anxious glancesin all directions. He knew that the two bodies must have been placedwhere he had found them at least two or three days earlier, yet he washaunted by the feeling that the murderers were hiding close by. Herather expected, indeed, that the next moment they would jump out andseize him.
In this state of mind it required all the courage he could command totake hold of the lower portions of the matted mass of brush and drag thewhole heap to one side; but he did it, and quickly then, lest his nervefail him before the task was done, he examined both the corpses.
One was that of a man of about thirty years, dressed in homespun clothesand having in general appearance the unmistakable marks of the frontierabout him. The hair was red and the face and hands showed many frecklesdespite the discoloration which had taken place.
The other body had been in life a robust giant of a fellow, perhapstwenty-two years old, with long, thick black hair, and a short, stubbygrowth of beard upon his face. The finer texture of the clothing and thestyle of the garments denoted a man from the east, one who was notordinarily a hunter or a woodsman.
Both men had been shot--one from the side, for the bullet had enteredhis temple; the other undoubtedly from behind. The wound was hardlynoticeable but the bullet had seemingly shattered the spinal column.
No valuables, no papers, no arms, absolutely nothing was there, so faras John could find, on or near either of the bodies which would furnishany clew to their identity. Powder horns, knives and all things of thekind usually carried by men in the woods had been taken away. Thefurther fact that the dead had been scalped, as well as robbed,convinced John that Indians had done the deed. He did not linger long,however, to speculate upon the question. Placing the covering of brushover the bodies again, he literally fled from the spot, nor did heslacken his speed to a rapid walk until he had left the cause of hisalarm a full mile behind.
Unnerved and depressed as he was, John entirely forgot the danger whichconfronted him in his accustomed haunts, and constantly thought of butone thing, which was that he must see Kingdom and tell him of theterrible discovery without a moment's delay.
"I'll keep going all night; no rest for me now," he told himself, andyet what he meant to do or what he supposed Ree would be able to doconcerning the matter uppermost in his mind, he would not have been ableto say.
Night came on. Poor Jerome had eaten nothing since morning and hisfatigue was great. His mind was calmer now, and he felt the uselessnessof going on without rest or food. Beside a great log where the wind haddrifted the freshly fallen leaves he sat down, therefore, and ate thelittle meat he had remaining. It was rather comfortable here, hethought--almost any resting place would seem so after such a day as hehad had--and he wrapped his blanket about him and lay down. The next dayhe would be back to the rocky ledges and the friendly hollow poplaragain. By Monday morning, if not before, he would see Kingdom, that is,if nothing had befallen him. After what he had seen at the "lick" hewould not be surprised to hear of more dreadful things.
How greatly both he and Ree had trusted the Indians, he reflected. Nowif he could but find Kingdom safe and sound, and they both could getaway to Fort Pitt or any place of safety, he would ask nothing more. Butno, on second thought, he would ask yet one thing. It would be theprivilege of joining Gen. Wayne's army and taking up arms against thesavages in any campaign the white military would conduct.
And so thinking, John Jerome fell asleep.
It was a crisp, bright, fall night. Return Kingdom had eaten his supperquite dejectedly after spending the whole day watching for the coming ofLone-Elk or others of the Indians, while making scarcely more than apretense of being busy husking corn. He was glad that John would soonreturn. While he had no thought of deserting the cabin and the clearing,he would feel much more comfortable to have Jerome somewhere near. True,he could see but little of him until Lone-Elk's accusation waseffectually disposed of, but there would at least be some one with whomhe could discuss the situation, some one sharing with him the news ofeach day's developments and the plans for future action.
In a brown study Ree sat before the fireplace. Then an Indian yell,fierce and loud--a yell which was more of a war-whoop than he was gladto hear--brought him quickly to his feet. Seizing his rifle, he opened aloophole in the wall in a corner where the light was dim, and lookedout. A party of savages was approaching. The Indians moved in singlefile, making no effort to conceal their numbers, and seeming to be benton no particular mischief.
Reassured by his observations, Kingdom opened the door while theredskins were yet but half way up the hill and, putting on an appearanceof unconcern, called out to know who was disturbing the night with sucha racket.
"The Delawares have come to demand the Little Paleface," the voice ofLone-Elk rose in response.
"You mean the Seneca has come," Kingdom boldly answered. "It is he whodemands that one who was never anything but the friend of the Delawaresshall be punished for a crime that is not his."
By this time the Indians were close about the cabin door.
"Come in, friends," Kingdom continued, his voice taking on a morecordial tone. "I suppose you have come to look for Little Paleface, buthe is not here nor has he been for many days."
"Witches come or witches go. Like the wind they are here but they aregone. Let the Delawares see."
These words from Lone-Elk set all the party to looking about in carefulsearch. No crevice was too small to escape their investigations. Theyseemed to think the so-called witch might hide himself in a space notlarge enough to admit a hand, and peered into every chink and corner.
It developed later that the savages were looking more for evidence ofwitchcraft than for the alleged witch himself. Still nothing wasdiscovered.
"Brothers, hearken to Lone-Elk," the Seneca cried presently. "Weremember the great crow which sat so long upon the gathered corn. Look,then, where the corn was. Witches take strange forms but they leavemarks behind, if the Delawares can find them."
In a body the reckless party of braves the Seneca had brought rushedtoward the cornfield. Only one loitered in the rear and he was FishingBird.
Lone-Elk was in advance. Even while he spoke, he was leading the way,and as if he had marked the spot well, he went directly to the shock ofcorn on which the vagrant crow was perched the day the Indians watchedin vain for John Jerome while he slyly peeked out at them from the cabinloft.
"Tear down the corn! See what can be found!" the Seneca cried, and witha violent jerk laid the shock of fodder over upon the ground.
"Ugh!"
The savage who spoke was an
evil-looking fellow and one of Lone-Elk'swarmest followers. Even as his exclamations were made, he seized a heavystone tomahawk, which lay on the ground where the shock of corn hadbeen, and held it up for all to behold.
Lone-Elk shrugged his shoulders significantly and called all the Indianstogether. Here, he declared, was the identical hatchet which had slainBig Buffalo. And see the dark stains upon it! Even in the moonlight didthey show red with the blood of the dead warrior.
With talk of this kind the anger of the Delawares was inflamed. Most ofthem now believed implicitly the charges of witchcraft Lone-Elk hadmade, and a few words from him would be sufficient to cause an immediateattack to be made upon Ree and the cabin.
Kingdom saw his danger. He knew as well as if he had seen the thing donethat Lone-Elk had concealed the tomahawk beneath the shock of corn, butwhat could he do or say? If only Fishing Bird would tell what he hadseen after following the Seneca to the white boys' clearing, it might beenough to turn the sentiment of the Indians another way. They would seethat they were being trifled with and their ignorance played upon by onewho was not trusted even by his own tribe. The whole trouble might besettled at once.
But Fishing Bird did not speak and Kingdom would not betray the friendlyfellow's confidence, though his very life depended upon it. Still hemade light of the discovery of the tomahawk and told Lone-Elk to hisface that he knew perfectly well who hid the hatchet in the corn.
So bold was Ree, indeed, in making this and other accusations againstthe Seneca that the latter would have made an end of the young white manthen and there but for his fear of Captain Pipe. As it was, he satisfiedhimself with inflaming the Delawares against Ree, as well as against the"Paleface witch," and undoubtedly hoped in secret that some of the morereckless ones would set fire to the cabin, or even kill its owner. Solong as he could tell their chief that the Delawares themselves, not he,had committed the outrage and violated the promise made the youngPaleface, he could wish nothing better.
Kingdom owed it to Fishing Bird and two or three others, but to FishingBird most of all, that the exciting talk of the Seneca resulted in noimmediate harm to him. The counsel of these Indians was not of the loudand angry manner of Lone-Elk's bitter speeches, but to the contrary,quiet and persuasive.
"The Delawares will bide their time. They will do nothing rash becauseLone-Elk seeks with talk to drive them to madness. Can it be the Senecahas some reason that we know not of for desiring the trouble he seeks tocause?"
With many quiet remarks of this character, spoken in the Indian tongue,Fishing Bird moved among the excited braves and warriors, and more thanone, chancing to hear his low spoken words, stopped in the midst of hisshouting and threatening demonstrations to consider if what Fishing Birdsaid was not pretty wholesome counsel after all.
Through all the uproar and while the savages ran here and there,shrieking and excited, upsetting the shocks of corn and doing much otherannoying damage, bent on finding more hidden tomahawks or other evidenceof witchcraft, Kingdom stood in the cabin doorway. He could close andbar the door in a second if it should be necessary to do so, he knew;but until that time came he meant to give none of the Delawares, muchless Lone-Elk, any cause for believing that he was in any mannerfrightened or at all seriously disturbed.
When it became apparent that nothing more was to be discovered, the fewIndians who had not already taken heed of the words of Fishing Birdquieted down and seeing that they would commit no greater or furtherviolence, the Seneca summoned all to gather round him. Close to thecabin he led the band, and not knowing what the treacherous rascal mighthave in mind, Kingdom gripped his rifle closer and even slung it up to aposition over his arm in which he could make quick use of the weapon.
"The White Fox was to give himself as a hostage for the delivery of thePaleface witch to the Delawares," Lone-Elk cried to the Indians whogathered round him. "If the one that is called Little Paleface is not awitch and did not kill Big Buffalo with his witch's hatchet, let theWhite Fox say where the Little Paleface is, and come now as a hostage tothe great chief, Hopocon, till the murderer of Big Buffalo is found."
"Even as the Great Spirit knows that Little Paleface did not kill BigBuffalo, so does Lone-Elk know it. He knows it as well as he knows howcame that hatchet hidden in the corn," Kingdom answered loudly, and witha tone of solemn certainty that could not escape the Indians' notice."And I, whom the Delawares call White Fox; I, who have been their friendand enjoyed their friendship in return until Lone-Elk came among you,now call upon all who are here, and all the people of Captain Pipe'stown, to witness this statement--that if harm comes to Little Palefaceor to me, every Delaware will regret it;-that the Great Spirit hears mewhen I say that in the end we all shall know by whose hand Big Buffalowas killed, and we shall see that it was not by witchcraft that hedied."
"Much talk! A young buck's much big talk!" grunted Lone-Elkcontemptuously in English; but that Kingdom's solemn words and mannerhad much impressed a majority of the Indians the young pioneer himselfwell knew, and the Seneca must have seen it also. At any rate he startedoff toward the Delaware town, swinging the blood-stained tomahawk overhis shoulder as he went. One by one the others followed.
The Trail of the Seneca Page 11
