Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 1104 — page 3: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

— SS eee ene 2 eer Oe **It does, somewhat, I think.” “And yet I wouldn’t be afraid to go back to the house.” ‘** You'd better stay in the boat, young ’un.”’ ** You think I am a/raid, do you?” she said, bound- ing out the boat to the shore. ; eh Ina! what do you mean?” asked the father, sternly. ** Oh, nothing; only I want to take a little run to ease my limbs.”’ ‘**Come back here, instantly !"’ ‘*Yes—oh, father! quick! quick! come and take me!’’ ‘*Seize the oar and shove out!’’ commanded Seth, springing into the water, and shoving the boat off. ‘* But, for God’s sake, my child!” ** You can't help her—the Injins have got her. I see ’em; ea ck, they’re goin’ to fire! look out!” At that instant there was the sharp crack of sever- al rifles from the shore, and several tongues of fire flamed from the darkness, and the wild yell of a number of Indians pealed out in horrid strength. Had it not been for Seth all would have been lost. He comprehended everything in an instant, and saved the others. “Oh, father! mother! The Indians have got me!”’ came in agonized accents from the shore, **Merciful God! must I see my child perish with- out heeding her cry?’’ groaned Haverland, in spirit. **No, they won’t hurt her, and we must take care of ourselves while we can. Don’t stand up, for they can see you.”’ ‘* Father, will you leave me?” came again in heart- rending tones. **Don’t be scart, young ‘un,”’ called out Seth; “keep up a Sge heart. I'll git you ag’in ef you be- have yourself. I will, as sure as I am Seth Jones. Just eg up pluck, little one.’’ The last words were shouted loudly, for the boat was fast gliding into the stream. The mother had heard all, and said nothing... She comprehended it, and with a groan sunk back upon aseat. Mary’s eyes flashed like a tigressat bay; and she did not cease to cast looks of indignation at Seth, for leaving the child to her horrid fate so coolly. But she said pee ae as quiet and pale as a statue. Seth eyed her like a lynx; his eyeballs seemed like fire. But he was as cool as if at his ease lage pa and he quickly made all feel that he was rn for such appa ee emergencies. They were flow in the center of the stream, and moving quite rapidly. The darkness was so great that the shores were now vailed from sight. And with hearts in as deep a gloom, the fugitives floated downward, CHAPTER IV. : THE LOST HOME AND A FOUND FRIEND, Ir was on the morning of the day which we have just seen close. As will be remembered, the air is clear and the day one of the most beautiful and pleasant of the year. The air was perfectly still, and had that peculiar, bracing sharpness which is only felt when it is in a perfect state of rest. It was such a morning as would make every healthy person feel that to merely dive was pleasure. That part of the State of New York in which the first scenes of this life-drama are laid, was a coun- try at this time cut up and diversified by numerous streams—the greater number of comparatively small size, but a few of considerable magnitude. Skirting and between these were thousands of acres of thick luxuriant forest, while in some paces were plains o great extent entirely devoid of timber. It was about the middle of the day referred to that a single horseman was rope “4 skirting one of these open patches of country, a few miles distant from Haverland’s home. A mere glance would have shown that he had come a great distances and both he and the animal he bestrode were jaded and well- nigh worn out. He wasa young man, some twenty or _ twenty-five years of age, attired in the costume of a hunter; and, pee gps nn Hie with his long ride, the watchfulness of his motions would have shown any one that he was no stranger to frontier life. He was rather prepossessing in appearance—had fine dark eyes, curly hair and whiskers, an expressive Roman nose, and smalland finely-formed mouth. In front, a long, polished rifle rested across the saddle, ready for use at a second’s warning. His horse’s sides were steaming and foamy, and the animal made his way along with painfully evident weariness. As the day waned, the traveler looked about him with more interest and eagerness. He carefully ex- amined the streams he crossed, and the pieces of wood, as though searching for some landmark or habitation. At length he manifested a pleasure in what he saw, as though the signs were as he wished, and hurried the lagging steps of his animal. ‘““Yes,’’ said he to himself, “ the woodman’s house cannot be far from this. i remember this stream, and that wood yonder. I shall then be able to reach it by night. Come, my good horse, go ahead with better spirits, for you are near Do journey’s end.” A short time after, he crossed a small stream that dashed and foamed over its rocky bed, and entered the broad tract which led to the ec in front of Haverland’s door. But serial he had a spn or | correct idea of his situation, he had sadly miscal- culated the distance. It was already dusk when he struck the stream several miles above where we have seen the fugitives take it. This river, or creek, he knew led directly by the cabin he was seeking, and he determined to keep it until he had reached his destination. His progress was now quite tardy, from being often obliged to pass around the thick undergrowth which lined the river; and, when he reached a point that he knew was a e distant from Haver. ‘s cabin, it was far in the night, fo em mmm ee nen ee ee ee ee Seth J ones. good horse, we have had a longer expected, but we are now very near Heigh! what does ‘*Come, m tramp than the termination of our journey. that mean?”’ This last exclamation, or question, was caused by seeing directly ahead of him, a bright, lurid glare shoot high into the heavens. ‘*Can it be that the woodman’s house is fired? Im- possible! and yet, that is the precise spot. Heavens! something is wrong!” Agitated by strong and painful emotions, Everard Graham (such was his name) now hurried his horse toward the spot from which the light emanated. In a short time he had proceeded as far as he dared with his horse, then dismounting, he tied him, and made his way cautiously forwae: on foot. The light was so strong that he found it necessary to pick his way with the greatest care, A few moments sufficed to show him all. He saw the house of Haverland, the one in which he expected to pass the night, but one mass of flame. And around it were a score of dark forms, leaping 'and dancing, and appearing, in the ghastly light, like fiends in a ghostly revel. Graham stood a moment spell-bound with horror and amazement, He expected to see the reeking bodies of Haverland and his family, or hear their groans of agony; but, as he continued gazing, he be- came convinced that they were either slain or had escaped, as there were no signs of their presence, He could not think they had escaped, and was com- an gi to believe they had been tomahawked, and ad perished in the flames, It was a ghastly and almost unearthly sight—the small cabin, crackling and roaring in one mass of liv- ing flame, throwing strange shadows across the clear- ing, and lighting up the edges of the forest with a brightness almost as great as the sun at noonday— the score of dusky beings, leaping and shouting in wild exultation, and the vast wilderness, shutting down like an ocean of darkness around. Gradually the flames lessened, and the woods seemed to retreat into the gloom; the shouts of the savages ceased, and they, too, disappeared; and the building, which hitherto was a mass of crackling fire, was now a heap of slumbering coals and em- bers, which glowed with a hot redness in the dark- ness, An hour or two afterward, a shadowy form could have been seen gliding stealthily and silently around the glowing ruins, e appeared like a specter as seen by the reflected light of the slumbering coals, or might have been taken for the shadow of some ruin of the building. At intervals he paused and list- ened as though he half expected to hear the footfall of some one, and then/again continued his ghostly march around the ruins. Several times he stopped and peered into the embers, as though he supposed the whitened bones of some human being would greet his vision, and then he recoiled and stood as if in deep and painful thought. It was Everard Graham, ae for the remains of Haverland and his amily. ‘*T see nothing,”’ he said, musingly, ‘‘and it may be that they have escaped, or their bodies are now cook- ing in that heap of coals, and yet something tells me that they are not. And if it is not thus, what can have become of them? How could they have eluded the malignant vengeance of their savage foes? Who could have warned them? Ah, me! in spite of the unaccountable hope which I feel, my own sense tells me there are no grounds for it, Sad is the fate of the unprotected at this time.” Fact, by gracious!” Graham started as though he had been shot, and gazed around. A few yards off he could just dis- cover the outlines of a man standing as if he were contemplating himself. ‘And who are you?” he asked, ‘ that appears upon this spot at such a time?” **I am Seth Jones, from New Hampshire. Who mought be you that happens down in these parts at this pertickler time?” ” o am I? I am Everard Graham, a friend of the man whose house is in ruins, and who, I fear, has been slaughtered with his family.” ‘Exactly so; but don’t speak so loud. There mought be others about, you know, Jist let’s step back here, where ’tain’t likely we'll be obsarved.”’ The speaker retreated into the darkness, while Graham followed him. At first he had some slight misgivings, but the tones and voice of tl e stranger reassured him, and he followed him without distrust or hesitation. ; ‘“You say you’re a friend of Haverland’s, eh?’ asked Seth, in a whisper. “Tam, sir; I was acquainted with him before he moved out in these parts. He was an intimate friend of my father’s, and aan oe to pay him a visit as soon as I could possibly do so, and I am here for that PATRONS. : “Jest so; but you took a rayther ticklish time for it, I reckon.” **So it seems; but, if I wished to wait till it would be perteci safe, I am afraid my visit would never made.” ‘* Fact, by gracious!”’ “But allow me to ask whether you know anything of the family ?”” “T reckon that perhaps, it mought be possible I do, seein’ as how I’ve been around these times,” Are they slain, or captives?” > ney eats “Is it possible they have at “Jest so. I helped ’em off imeself.” A ance Frac anh Where are they?” *Down the river, at oné of the settlements “* How far distant is it?” - oe eee ee me ee -_—— ee ee eee ee - or ‘* A dozen miles, prep though it movght be more, and then ag’in it mightn’t.”’ ‘Well, let us then hasten to them, or, let me, at least, as I have nothing to detain me here.”’ “I'm willing,’ said Seth, moving forward, “but I forgot to tell you the darter’s ‘mong the Indians, I didn’t think of that.” Graham started; for, perhaps, the shrewd reader has already suspected he had more than a passin interest in the fate of Ina. Visions of a fair, childis face had haunted him, and his perilous journey was owing much to their enchantment. He had played with her in childhood, and while they were yet chil- | dren they had separated; but they had pledged their ever been a bright dream in the past. ee - a oe -_ |g stp ; ; ; hearts to each other, and looked hopefully forward to areunion in later years, Graham had dreamed of this meeting a long time; and, now that it was so cruelly thwarted, he felt agonizedindeed. Years bee fore, when still a boy, although quite a large one, he visited this section, and the memory of that visit He maste his emotion ina moment, with a strong effort, a | asked his companion, calml ** What tribe has ca Meired tna”? ‘Them infarnal Mohawks, I believe.” j ro did it occur?’ ‘* How long ours, as you can see by them coalg ‘* Only a few there.” ‘Will you be kind enough to give we the partioue ars?”’ ‘*Sartinly.”’ 0) And thereupon Seth proceeded to narrate the inci» dents given in the preceding chapter, adding, how: ever, that the parents and sister were safe. e had accompanied them himself down to the settlement mentioned, where, leaving them, he had made haste back again, and had arrived just in time to meet Graham. At first, he said, he mistook him for a savage, and as he was alone, he came very near shooting him; but, as he heard him communing with himself, he discovered at once that he was a white man. ‘‘And what has brought you back here?’ asked Graham, when he had finished. “That's a pooty question to ax me, Iswow! What has brought me back here? Why the same thing, I cac’late as has brought you—to find out what is to be found out "bout Ina, that purty darter.” ‘** Ah—pardon me, friend, am glad to hear it, and I am free to confess that that inducement has had more in rt pp me here than anything else. From your starting alone to rescue her, I presume you en- tertained hopes of recovering her, and, as you, alone, entertained such hopes, I judge there is greater room for them, when another one joins you.”’ ‘*Did I say, stranger, I ‘spected to git that gal again?’ asked Seth, in a low tone, ** You did not say so in words, it is true; but from what you said, 1 judged such was your intention, Was I mistaken?”’ ‘* No, sir; that’s what I meant.”’ ‘*T see no reason why we should not be friends, as we are both actuated by a desire to rescue an unfor- tunate one from the horrors of Indian captivity, and I trust, without that fact, we would find nothing dis- tasteful in each other.”’ ‘““Them’s my sentiments, hand,” The two closed hands with a true friendly gripe, and a - f ‘vactly, Give us your could each have seen the, other’s face in the ry ness, he would have beheld a radiant expression friendship. They then retired further into the wood and continued the conversation. We may mention in this place, that the Indians who had captured Ina were, as Seth had remarked, members of the Mohawk tribe. This tribe itself was a member of the “Five Nations,”’ includin them the Seneca, the Cayuga, Onondaga, and Oneida tribes, which have become quite famous in history. They are known among the I'rench as the Jrogwois, and among the Dutch as Maquas, while at home they are called the Mingoes, or Agamuschim, signifyin the United People. The Mohawks, or Wabdingi, firs existed separately and alone. The Oneidas then joined them, and these, in turn, were followed by the Onondagas, Senecas, and Cayugas. In the be- es of the last century the Tuscaroras of the uth joined them, after which they took the name of the Six Nations. Of course, they were all united, and war made upon one tribe, was made upon all. They were truly a formidable confederation, and the Revolution testifies to what deeds they were suf- ficient when instigated by the British. During the eet warfare which long existed upon the Old rontier, the white settlers relied mainly upon strata- gem to outwit their foes, and it was ‘a this means er Heri Seth Jones hoped to rescue Ina from their CHAPTER V. . ON THE TRAIL, AND A SUDDEN DEPARTURE FROM IT BY SETH. " “Tae Mohawks, you say, have then captured her?” remarked Graham, alter a moment's pause, ~ Yes; I know it’s them.” “Did you get a glimpse of them?” “I came up as soon as possible, and they were leaving at that moment. Isaw one or two of them, and know’d it was them, sure ’*nough, Howsumey- er, that don’t make no difference, whether it’s the Mohawks, Oneidas, or any of them blasted Five Na- tion niggers. They are alla set of skunks, and one would just as lief run off with a man’s gal as not, There ain’t any difference atwixt ’em.’ “IT suppose not. Thesame difficulties would have to be surmounted in each case. The point is not whether one shall make an attempt at a rescue, but how shall it bedone. I confess I am in a maze. The Mohawks are an exceedingly cunning people, with ©