Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 183 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

rc * the pit, as the Let us bury them as become chiefs and warriors, and then dig out the hearts from their slayers who cannot find a place on the earth to hide from the wrath of the W yandot.” They rose together and walked in solemn si- lence thrice about the dead. Then Darromed in set up the chant and the band took up the wild lament and sent it echoing through the for- est.. That long, low, tremulous wail had sound- ed before in the ears of the Guide, when, gliding at night beside still lake or mountain stream, be had brought down au enamy and left him for his foes to pick up and raise the death-wail, as they sung it now besiie the mangled bodies of the slain. They set to work with hatchets, knives, and sticks cut down and sharpened, to dig a grave in which to lay the dead. It was a shallow trench ten feet long, in which they laid them down to rest beside the silent river, side by side, their weapons beside them, and their blankets wrap- ped about them, as if they were asleep. A species of fascination drew the gaze of the pris- oner to the row of bronzed and bloody faces in lay together, staring up toward the clouds with open eyes. Upon one face in particular his eyes were fixed iutently, that of a diminutive, dwarfed specimen of humanity, shot through the heart. There was such a hideous joy expressed upon his dead face, such a com- plete triumph, that Gilbert could not resist the feeling that this man had been unhappy, and that it wasa pléasure to him to go down to death upon the wings of the battle. They threw the earth back upon those man- gied forms and collected stones from the banks around and built a cairn, seven feet wide and ten feet long, to mark the spot where those bones were laid. When it was dons and the last obsequies paid to the memory of their friends, Darromed arose, and followed by his band, formed a circle about the bound man, with an expression upon their faces which it was impos- sible to mistake. ** Look upon him,” yelled the chief. ‘‘ Behold how he laughed as we buried our dead out of sight beside the river of the Miami, the river they loved so well! They must rest far from the place where their fathers’ bones are laid. I will tell you what todo for them, sons of the W yandot,” ‘** What shall we do?” cried the band in chorus. ‘* We listen for the words of our chief.” Darromed advanced and laid bis finger upcn the breast of the bound man, and facing about, made a commanding gesture to his men. ‘*We will try the temper of this man,” he said, ‘‘and we will see what sort of a brave he can be who has the blood of the white man in his veins. Set up a war-post and raise the cry and we will try him, whether he be a great brave or a coward.” That meant torture, and torture of the kind in which only an Indian could indulge who bas been trained to invent most cruel torments and be applauded for the deed. They cut off the top of a small ow which stood in the center of the Ages and lopped off the limbs close to the trunk. To this they bound Gilbert, whose calm face did not change. He knew that the first torments, though annoying and trying to the nerves, were never meant to take away life, They began with knife-throwing: Standin about ten feet from the tree, with the glare o the moonlight and the fire shining full upon the face of the Guide, Darromed took his knife by the point and suddenly throwing his foot for- ward, lanched it at tne head of Gilbert. The bright weapon turned twice in the air, and re- mained quivering in the tree, not two inches from the right ear of the Guide, He began to debate whether it wculd not be better to throw his head to one side and allow the next knife to pas his brain, when the next warrior made is throw, Ls pet knife in the tree upon the other side of the head, and it remained there making it impossible for him to move his head more than two or three inches to either side, They now began to throw at his body and limbs, evidently trying how close they could come to him without wounding him. The knives of some of the younger and less experi- enced would sometimes touch him, and inflict a slight wound, but nothing serious, at which the more successful laughed. The hatchet- throwing then began, and in this, as the other, Darromed show himself worthy of bein ranked high in the tribe. Gilbert had borne it all with a patient smile upon his face, which roused the anger of Darromed, but he masked it as ay en Indian can, and advanced with a look of humility which no one could assume better than himself. ‘My brother will forgive me if I made a mistake. I thought he was a cowardly dog, like the rest of the white men, and that he would cry like a child when the knives touch- ed him. But Iam glad to find that he is a warrior, and can bear pain bravely. I am only a poor Indian, and do not know many good ways to make pain, but my brother will excuse me, because i can only do what I have been taught. All we have done so far has not damped the courage of my brother, for I saw him smile.” **It does not even amuse me,” said Gilbert. Gilbert, the Guide. ‘“‘ If you can think of nothing better than this, Iam ashamed of you, for an Onondaga child four years old could do better.” ‘* Doubtless my brother says true,” replied Darromed, with a latent fire in bis black eyes. ‘‘An Onondaga cbild must be very wise, be- cause they become such great men. Some might say that it was cowardly for Owasco to run away, and leav. his friend in the hands of the Wyandots, but they would be fools, for it is better tosave your own life than that ofa friend.” ‘‘Owasco is no coward,” replied the Guide, indignantly. ‘‘Some of your men in yonder grave would attest it, if they could speak. Many a head that would wear its hair to-day is robbed of its ornament because Owasco roam- ed the forest. Take any four men of the Wy- andot nation, yourself included if you like, and give Owasco room enough to work free, and he will whip you all.” ‘‘Liar!” sereamed the Indian, losing bis self- possession. ‘‘ Owasco dare not strike hatchets with Darromed for bis life.” ‘‘Pshaw!” said Gilbert, who saw that he had touched him upon a tender point, and hoped to incense him to end all at once, ‘‘ Thatis non- sense. In my opinion, you would be but a straw in the hands of Owasco, who would break you into pieces,” Twice during this speech the chief half bared his knife, and as mamy times plunged it back again, as the insults of the white man touched him closer. ‘‘Wor my part,” continued the Guide, with great apparent candor, ‘‘1l never could see any particular use to be made of a Wyandot, They are a low-lived, sneaking, cowardly race, and it would be a good thing if a pestilence should sweep them from the face of the earth. I’ve done something to wipe them out, and so has Owasco, and if they’ll leave us alone this season, we will finish them up.” ‘‘Liar and fool!” again shrieked the angry chief. ‘‘ There is no man in the Onondaga na- tion who can cope with the meanest Wyandot in battle. They are dogs, and the sons of dogs, who say if. ut you, who have dared to lie about the great tribe, do you know what your fate will be? You shall suffer all the torments of which the priests speak in their talks %o the people at the Wyandot lodges—and then you shall die,” ‘“‘l am ready.” “See if you will be ready when the flames curl up about your body and the laugh of the Indian rings in your ears. When the skin slips from the flesh, the flesh cleaves from the bons, under the terrible flame. I think I hear you, in the midst of the torments, crying for water, when no one will give it you. This is one death you may die, but I will give you a choice,” ‘Go on with your demon work.” ‘‘T told you that we were poor Indians, who cannot think of many things. This is the next: we can bead down two strong young trees and tie your arms to the branches, and let them go. If the trees are strong enough, you will be dragged limb from limb; if they are not, you will remain in fearful torture until you die.’ “FRiend, devil, do your worst!” shouted the Guide. ‘I defy you.” ‘* There is another plan. We can find a place where the water drops from the rocks upon the earth below. We can tie you where it will drop upon your head. At first it will be pleas- ant, and you will laugh at the punishment. But soon the head will ache and needles of fire will pierce your brain until you will cry out for the tomahawk to release you. Here you will howl away your life at last, in deadly tor- ture.” Gilbert was silent now, and seemed to pay no heed to the savage words of his tormentor, who dwelt with pleasure upon his programme of tortures. ‘* There is another way,” he continued, ‘It is not a new one, but it is not one an Onondaga ’ ‘child would use, or a woman of the pale-faces. They bring four strong young horses of the West and tie the prisoner to them by the arms and legs, when the warriors burn them with fiery brands, and they spring away tearing the bound man into pieces. But this is common and too quick; I would not use it.” Gilbert remained with bent head and his lips fixed in the same smile. All at once he lifted his head and thundered out these words, which are in themselves a prophecy—‘‘I know that my Redeemer liveth, and because He lives, I shall live also!” The Indian started back, as those words of Holy Writ were thundered forth. There was something in them so grand and impressive that they went to his very soul, and he could not help admiring the man who spoke them. But his surprise was only momentary, and then the old cruel smile came back to his face. ‘There is another way which I like well, and that is to bind a man to a naked rock in a path- less mountain, where the sun beats and the floods cannot come, and he will cry in vain for food aud drink. Even the wolves cannot be merciful and destroy there. I must have time to think which death I shall give you, unless 9 the braves are too eager for their revenge. What say you, brothers of the tribe: you have eat’ * my words, what shall be done with this mai) ** Let him feel the fire,” cried the Indians, as with one breath. ‘‘ We hear our brothers call us from beyond the sky.” “It is good!” cried the chief. ‘‘ As my bro- thers say, so it shall be, for what amI that I should resist the will of somany? See, we have set up a stake, and now we will pile fagots about it and burn him with fire.” **'No!” cried a clear voice. ‘‘ You shall not burn him! Cowards, stand back and give me passage.” To their surprise the Indians were parted by a strong arm, anda noble-looking young English- man, with a sword in his hand, broke through the crowd and pushed the chief back. Close behind him came Morena, her handsome face flushed and her eyes flashing. “Hah! Why do you come here into the camp of the Wyandots and take revenge out of the hands of the tribe?” ‘““Because I choose to do so,” replied the young man, promptly. He was over six feet high, wearing the dress of a civilian, with a black belt about his waist holding a sword scabbaid and a pair of silver- mounted pistols. His swarthy face bespoke Southern blood, and bis haughty look pro- claimed him to be of an aristocratic race. His mouth was small and bis teeth firm and even and his eyes dark and expressive. The hand which grasped the sword-bilt was small as that of a woman, and his foot was covered by a dainty boot, which few men of his hight could have worn. He was evidently a person of authority among the Indians, for most of them shrunk back, while only one or two beside the chief seemed to think of resistance to the au- thority of the white man. “Look you, chief,” he continued. ‘I have told you before now that this work must cease, and by my life it shall. We have had enough maledictions upon our cause before now for these deeds, and it shall no longer be made odious, as far as we are concerned. What has the man done that you should treat him so roughly?’ * Will you take him out of our hands?” said the chief, in a tone of suppressed bitterness. ‘‘Think what you do, Gandelion. There is no man who walks the woods who bas done more to injure us than Gilbert, the Guide.” “Is this Gilbert, the Guide?’ said the man called Gandelion, looking more closely at the prisoner. ‘*Then there is only the more rea- son why he should be saved, for McKay has said to me again and again that he would give much to be able to question him in regent to certain subjects which need elucidation, You will therefore set him free at once and give him up to me.” Never!’ hissed the chief. ‘This man has killed Wyandots and he shall suffer for it, and no man, not even McKay himself, sbali tear him from me, I have sworn to set him shoul- der deep in the earth, with bread and water before him, there to howl away his life, and I will do it.” : **Do you rebel then?’ said the young man, ina sharp, quick tone. ‘‘Dare you use ae influence against the authority of McKay, vested in me? Speak, quick; I have no time spare. ePurrbrned ground his teeth and looked about at his men, to see how many of them would stand by him if he persisted in his defiance of this gallant man, who had ventured alone into the m'dst of a fierce band of savages, thirsting for revenge. They were evidently Meg ok | between their fear of the wrath of the Eng i and their bloody design. Gandelion saw that it was time to act, and making a sudden leap, he placed his sword-point at the throat of t chief, while his left hand was wreathed in the buck-skin of his hunting-shirt at the. shoulder. “Stand, bloody-minded wretch, and do not dare to speak or hia are dead,” he cried. ‘* Back, Wyandots, if you love your chief, for the first man who lifts a hand or draws a wea- pon, gives the signal for his death.” A panic spread through the Indian ranks as they saw the perilous position of their chief. Their trembling hands dropped their half- raised weapons in confusion and dismay, and me! looked from him to Morena, who held a little silver bugle in her hand. “Shall I call them?” she said, “*Sound!” replied Gandelion, CHAPTER 1X. THE AMPHITHEATER FASTNESS. SHE raised the bugle to her lips and blew a clear bird-call, which ran in silvery echoes through the forest, and was answered by the recks around. Hardly had it broken upon the still air of night, when they heard the tread of many feet, and a well-appointed company of white men, guided by an Indian of the Shaw- nee nation, broke through the bushes behind them and poured into the glade, Gandelion released his captive with a swing which sent him reeling to the earth, with a muttered ejac- ulation of wrath and hatred, for he saw that JOO (COU cS