Beadle's Dime Library, Vol. II, No. 14 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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- «oo - 24 ~~ ee a ee the memory of General Nicholas Herkimer. Has it been done? Go, pilgrim, to the enrine of departed heroism, and see the plain slab above his grave—a grave now in the hands of the stranger! Go, you, whose duty it was long since to have fulfilled the will of Congress, which can be done at any time when politicians at Albany haye time to turn their minds from corruption to right, and from 1 og to justice, and weep tears of shame above the neglected grave! Cirizxns or Herkimer County, to yon, I call! Shame these recr:ants. and erect the monument yourse/ves! Raise rt not above hia Hite but place it on the brow of tLe loftiest ill which overlooks the silvery Mohawk, which he go loved, and tell the world, this have we of Herkimer done, in honor of ow GREATEST AND BEST CIT(ZEN— A CHRISTIAN AND A Hero! CHAPTER XL The court-martial was over. Walter But ler, Hon Yost Schuyler, and others, were found guilty as spies and sentenced to death ! Butler found friends. Even then as now, ar- istocratic associations, money and family had influence, and, at the intercession of so many ersona as these attributes could bring to ar, Arnold was persuaded to reprieve But. ler and send him to Albany, from whence he soon made Isis escape to become the most dia- bolical scourge the Mohawk county ever knew. Even then Arnold seemed to begin to feel a sympathy for villany ! But poor Hon Yost had no friends—no money—but little sense—it_ would do to have him dangle in the air, and to say a spy had been hung! Oh, yes! as even now, 80 jus- tice was then. A starving beggar steals a loaf of bread, off—off to prison with him! A bank president or the treasurer of a Philadel- phia Sunday School Union, may rob the peo- »le of a hundred thousand dollars or hwlf a mil- ion, andit is only a moral delusion—a slight turpitude, excuse the fault, sprinkle a little perfume upon their garments, and sweet So- ciety draw them back to thy spotless bosom! A poor lost girl may be found wandering in the streets, to jail with her, while her Srestiry seducer seeks another victim! Hon Yost was condemned to die. The gal- lows was erected. The rope was ready. The hour was named. Troops were ordered out to guard the proceedings. a said that he had no friends. Ah, while she lives there is one friend who never will desert us; in peril, in crime, in tribulation a mother will cling to her son! Arnold, having given all the necessary or- ders for the execution ot the unapphy Dutch- man, had gone into the house, with some offi- cers, to wash down any qualms which he might have had with a few glasses of wine The glass was at his lips when an aged wo- man, wild and gipsy-like in look and dress, rushed into the room and knelt at his feet, crying for mercy, in the name of God, for poor Hon Yost. It was his mother who plead. Her furrowed face, brown and care- worn—her streaming gray hairs, tears pour: ing out in flocds, her sobs and moans should have touched a heart of stone. But Arnold would not hear or heed her, Another pleader came; a man with more heart and sense than the other, and he even offered to suffer in his stead, ‘“ for” said he, “Hon Yost is mv brother, and he ie xore thap half an idiot. He has lived with the Indians aud the Johnson clan all bis life, and they have influenced him. Iam aman and know what Iam about. Hang me in his stead, and spare him !” Even to this appeal the ¢hen less than man and after traitor closed his ears. But now another influence was brought to bear. Colonel Willett, whispered ® word in Arnold’s ear. The latter listened to the suggestions offer- ed. He ordered every officer out of the room but Colonel Willett, bidding the mother and brother of Hon Yost to remain. He then ave orders to have Hon Yost brought before im, The latter was led in, closely bound and uarded by a file of soldiers. They were or- > ae out, and then Arnold harshly addressed the poor, pale, trembling creature, who, how- ever brave he might. have been elsewhere, was now dreadfully terrified. “Villain,” said the greater villain of the two, “I am about to have you Aung; but ee The New York Library. you may say good-bye to your mother and »rother here !” “Oh, mine Cot, Mister Yeneral, ton’t hang hoor Hon Yost!” cried the unhappy fellow, ropping on his knees. “What, wi!! yon do for me if I intereede for your life?’ asked Colonel Willett. “ Any ding—any dig vot is possible or im- possible, Mister Kurnel Villett!” moaned the poor fellow. “ Will you go, after I have had your clothes fixed for it, and alarm the Indians and all the camp of St. Leger with the idea that General Arnold is close at hand, and will attaek and ent them to pieces in a few hours with an im- mense army? ‘Tell them you escaped while you were being led to execution ?” “Yes, Mister Kurnel Villett, I vill do dat, und scare dem all same as one flock of sheep!” ‘“ How can I trust you?” Both the mother and brother instantly offered to become security for the faithful per- formanee of the promise, and Hon Yost was solemnly assured that they would be hung if he failed, and he meet the same fate if ever he was caught. He again renewed the promise, saw them bound as he had been, and then, after his clothes had been perforated in seve- ral places with bullets, and his hat, also, os if he had been shot at while running, he wag allowed to depart. The result of the plan will be tne tneme of the next chapter. CHAPTER XLI. It is night-—we are in the midst of the im- mense Indian encampment of the beleaguering force around Fort Schuyler. Why do we see these hundreds of Indians gathered in silene¢ around this one wigwam, from which proceeds the monotonous tum, tum, tum, of the Indian drum, and a low song to the Manitou, or Great Spirit? Dissatisfied with the result of the de. feat at Oriskany, mourning over the loss of so many of their chiefs and braves, and angry, too, at the deceits put upon them by the Brit ish leaders, the Indians are holding a solemn pow-wow to ask the Manitou, through one of their prophets, if they shall not abandon the expedition, and return home. And not alone are they discoutented. Their ale-faced allies, especially the Canadians and essians, who, ‘unlike the tories, had no hate to influence them, but fought for ten cents a day— were sickened with the toils of a siege, so far only a losing game on their part. And even the leaders had passed high words. Sir John Johnson and Barry St. Leger, each propavly once of the other, had fallen out. But to go ack to the pow-wow. Except the sound of the prophet’s drum in- side the sacred wigwam erected for the occa- sion, all was still in that vast assemblage. Each moment they expected to hear the Mani- tou, to whom their prophet was praying, speak through his lips. But something comes to break the stillness A man, with rent garments, pallid and terror. stricken face, sweating and gasping from fa- tigue, rushes in among them. It is Hon Yost, whom they all know and hold in awe, for they deem him one whose brain has been touched by the finger of the Great Spirit. He fears not, heeds not the pow-wow—he tells them the fate he has es- 0 ar an army is close at hand, which will sweep them away as the gale bears off the dry leaves in autumn! They ask him, how many ?’—he points to the trees of the forest, and says, ‘ More yet than they.” ark! How the pow-wow prophet comes sweating and steaming from his lodge. | His face; too, wears a look of mystery. Through him the Manitou is to speak. “ The Great Spirit is withus! We must go home poe feast a him in our own villages !”’ The Manitou had spoken—no ne ther words from Hon Yost there. spre: ™ Generals St. Leger and Johnson soon ob- served the general stampede which the Indians are making, and hear the rumors which, through Hon Yost and the InJians, are flying through the English camp. Hon Yost is sent for into their presence. “What means this, you dog of a spy, thie report that the American army is so Fives at hand ®” oried St. Leger, livid with rage ; for, almost sure of the surrender of the fort b morning, he was maddened at the thought of te et eee —_—_——- a failure which would tear to, pieces the laurel wreath, which he believed to be already em twined for his brow. “Mine cot, general, it means de truth! Look at mine hat, mine clothes, all mit pul- let holesin’em! Mister Putleris hang 1 py de neck pefore now, and Hon Yost would have been hung, too, if I not: preak loose from de tam Yankees, and rum like! der duyvel!, Gen- eral Arnold mit more as ten thousand mens is coming fast'as he can, mit cannon-guns and odder guns, and I’m-goin’ to Canada just be soon as der cdot cot und you, geéneral; will Jet me!” “ Go, you lyi g wretch, go |” said St. Leger, “but if you roadie another word of. this in camp, I will hang you higher than Haman was hung. Hon Yost rushed ont, and at. the same in- stant an Oneida Indian was brought in by an officer, who verified the statement. of Hon Yost, whom he had seen beforé ‘he reached the camp. 4 Phis means something, General St. Leger!’ said Sir John. “] care not what it means, General Johnson I ask you to go and keep your Indians here— J. never will abandon # post so nearly won! Not a man of my force shall stir. If, Arnold comes, he shall find ‘me. inside of the fort to meet him !” A tumult outside, so loud as nearly to drown his angry voice, was heard. | “They're coming! they’re coming!” was the loudest cry of all. “ By Heavens, it must be true, and I’m off before I get. my neck into:a, noose!’ said Sir John; and away he went to prepare, not fore retréat, but a flight. ' “ General St. Leger, all of the men are fly- ing, leaving arms and all! behind them !”" eried one of the general’s aids, coming in at this ins stent. “God of heaven! Then all is lost, and I am a ruined man! At least, to retain an escort for me in my retreat,” said St. Leger, as he snatched up his sword, and left the tent. By this time, leaving guns baggage, ammu- nition and all, the wh8le army of investment. or siege was in full flight. Never was a siege raised by means more simple—nor, perhaps, ever done so rapidly. Hon Yost was the sole neral and army ef the occasion,’ He had lfilled his pledge, and’ Willett’s, not Arnold's, ruse had succeeded. ~~ CHAPTER XLII. Upon that high cliff overhanging the Little Falls of the Mohawk, where last we saw her tearfully watching the departure of Thayenda- negea, we will once’ more ‘look’ upon our “Kathleen.” She is altered, very much so, for she is still more thin, more pale, more sor- rowful than when we last looked wpon’ her. Yet her great blue eyes look largerand brighter in the white face, and her express'on of settled sorrow gives ker an almost holy look—I mean it not irreverently—a look of purity that ‘ie above the earthly. oING There, with her fair hair floating off from her white neck, like ‘ringlets of stint ight;’ she stands supporting ‘herself by a small cedar trunk, againtt which she leans like some flower blown ‘there by the wind, and her eyes are looking far, far up the river where last she saw him. : Dyagetto sits moodily upon a ruck near her, ha face expressing no care or love forthe poor girl, and far’ less anxiety for the return of Thayendanegea. “Good Dyagetto, do you not see something like a canoe far away up the river??? “My eyes are the eyes of an owl—they are old and dim,” replied Dyagetto. “Yours are the eyes of a young bird, and can see—lonk for yourself.” The sound of a footstep behind her—light, it is true, yet still loud enough for her err, caused Kathleen to tuen around, and, wiib a wild shriek of joy, she sprung forward, fairit- ing, and would have fallen to the ground, hnd she not been caught in Thayendanegea’s arms. “ Poor Lily of the Pale-faces, how you haie wilted!” said the noble warrior, in a pitying tone, as he lifted her easily as if she had’ bein a feather, and carried her up to a mossy bank beneath a spreading maple, and laid he* gently down upon it. When her eyes unclosed, she saw that The endanegea was sitting beside her, and a young warrior, richly dressed, standing leaning upon his rifle, near. And she closed her eyes again Eomicboo Ss) (E(@) =}