The Frontiersmen Part 16

The villain chuckled for a moment. "That's neither here nor there, Miss.

There never was any great love atween us, any way; and, you see, a wound like this, ain't apt to increase it," pointing to his shoulder, which had been bandaged. "It's enough for me to know that Squire Barton has given shelter up at the cottage to them as has injured me; and no man ever offends Ben Guthrie without getting his pay for't."

"There has been no time, Guthrie," said Ruth with a shudder, "since we have lived in this valley, but you have been welcomed at the cottage as a friend."

"Yes, yes; I know what kind of a welcome I've generally had:--such as you Colony folks give a Tory, as you call me--a scornful eye--a curling lip--and a hand that is never offered in friends.h.i.+p. But I'll let these interlopers into this territory know that if King George's men have all died in the settlements, there are some of 'em alive round here. But _that's_ neither here nor there. I've done you a kindness, after all; for that cottage will yet be taken--burnt down, p'raps--and then you'd better be here than there."

"Guthrie, you have been guilty of a great wrong, in placing me in the hands of these Senecas; and you may yet live to suffer for it. I never knew a wicked act, that was not followed by its punishment."

"Not so fast, Miss Ruth--not so fast," said Guthrie, "I want you to understand that you're _my_ prisoner; and that these Senecas only hold you for me; and that they are answerable to me for your safety."

"If you have the power, O, take me back to my father! Guthrie," said she imploringly, "and this act of yours to-day shall be forgotten and forgiven; and you will find in me a friend ever more. You know the agony my father must suffer. O, take pity on his gray hairs."

Guthrie gave a peculiar chuckle. "Can't do that, any way," said he, "or not if----You see. Miss, the matter's here. Now your father and I _can_ be friends. There's _one_ way we can make this matter up. Let him give up that Tuscarora to these Indians, and take me for a son-in-law, and the thing's done at once."

Ruth, for a moment, was astounded at this infamous proposal. She looked at him, as if doubting the evidence of her senses; but disdained to reply.

"You see, Miss," continued Guthrie, "it wouldn't be so bad an affair, after all. I ain't much of a woman's man, it's true; but I've got a snug piece of land down here; and then, in these times, it isn't a bad thing to have a friend among these wild savages; and, you see, I could protect all of you."

Ruth answered indignantly, "I did not think, Guthrie, you could do me a worse wrong, than you committed in treacherously making me a prisoner; but you _have_ committed a worse one. Leave this hut, or I will appeal to these savages to protect me; not one of them but has more courtesy, and a better heart than you."

Guthrie looked fiercely angry at this reply; but walked deliberately towards Ruth, and seated himself upon a bench near her. "We'll see about that, Miss. I ain't accustomed to child's play. Now I've made up my mind that I want you for a wife, and my wife you shall be, any way. Now, there ain't no use in screaming, or them sort of things; but you might just as well make up your mind to it, first as last."

Ruth, shuddering with horror, rushed from the hut: Guthrie sprang after her, and caught her by the arm. "That won't do, Miss, any way. Them tantrums will answer in the settlements; but out here in the woods, we do things on squares. You can say, whether you will or you won't, and make an end of it, just to show your freedom in the matter; but whichever way you fix it, it don't make any difference to me; the thing has got to be done."

During this speech of Guthrie's, Ruth had been dragged back into the hut. She shrieked with fear and disgust, and cried aloud for help.

Guthrie rudely endeavored to place his hand over her mouth, when Singing-Bird came running into the lodge, followed by two or three Indians. Guthrie, ashamed of his violence, retreated towards the door.

"I've had _my_ say, Miss, and you can make up your mind to it, and save the folks at the cottage; or you can go into these tantrums, and let the other thing happen, just as you've a mind."

With this threat, he slowly departed, followed by the savages, while Ruth threw herself into the arms of Singing-Bird, weeping bitterly at this new addition to her misery.

CHAPTER XIII.

"There was such lawing and vexation in the towns, one dailie suing and troubling another, that the veteran was more troubled with lawing within the towne, than he was in peril at large with the enemie."

HOLINSHED--CONQUEST OF IRELAND.

As we have said, Ralph and the Tuscarora, after the discovery of the capture of Ruth, anxiously sought the means of releasing her and Singing-Bird, as well as Ichabod, from the hands of the Senecas. They at length hit upon a plan, which they proposed to put in execution on the following night. They deemed it unsafe to attempt it in the daytime, as they would be much more likely to be discovered by the Indians, than when under the shelter of darkness.

Barton had recovered somewhat from his first paroxysm of grief, and was at length able to take part in the preparations which were in the making. But it was insisted upon by both Ralph and Eagle's-Wing, that he and the negro should remain at the cottage, as well for the purpose of defence should another attack be made during their absence, as for that of having an asylum in readiness, should they succeed in their enterprise. The cottage contained five or six rifles, in addition to those which had already been in use, and was well furnished with ammunition; and it was believed that, should another attack be made, Barton and the negro might defend it, until a.s.sistance could be rendered by the return of Ralph and the Tuscarora.

Some time had elapsed in these preparations, and it was already noon, before everything was completed in readiness for the enterprise. A few hours more were to elapse before it would be proper for them to set forth. They had no fear that any immediate injury could be contemplated by the Senecas to Ichabod or Ruth. They supposed that the Indians would not resort to any means of vengeance, until they had completely failed in their attempt to get possession of the Tuscarora. Therefore, it was with no fear, although with much anxiety, that they waited for the hour fixed upon by them for their hazardous enterprise.

It was just about noon that Sambo, who had been into the cattle-yard to look after the cattle, came running into the cottage, and announced the approach of two white strangers from the northward, who were coming on foot in the direction of the cottage. This intelligence was received with pleasure; for at any time, in the midst of the forest, when visitors are few and rare, there is no little excitement on the arrival of strangers, from whom welcome information of friends or of occurrences at the settlement may be obtained; but at this time, when surrounded by so many dangers, a _white_ face was almost certain to be that of a friend.

The announcement had scarcely been made, when the strangers approached the door, and were invited cordially by Barton to enter.

The first of the strangers who attracted their attention was a man of slight stature, not more than five feet six inches in height, with a sly, cunning expression of countenance. His flesh was shrivelled and thin, and his complexion was of a yellowish white, resembling somewhat the color of parchment. He appeared to be about thirty-five years of age. He had a fussy, uneasy air, never seeming to rest, but constantly twitching and jerking about--a peculiarity that pa.s.ses with most men as the result of great mental activity, but which is more often the evidence of a disarranged, unmethodized mind.

The other personage was of a large and bulky frame, with a dull, stolid expression of countenance; besides, his face wore unmistakable marks of his being addicted to the use of ardent spirits--blossoms indicating that fact being scattered in considerable profusion over it. He carried in his hand a rifle, which, either from want of use or because just at this precise time he was suffering from too familiar an acquaintance with his favorite pocket companion, he seemed to have no appropriate place for, and was unable to get into any convenient position.

The strangers entered the cottage, and the first individual we have described, with a nervous, twitchy manner, said, with an attempt at a graceful salutation--

"Good day, gentlemen. You do not know me, perhaps; my name is Bagsley--attorney-at-law--reside in Johnstown, the s.h.i.+re of Tryon County; and I am now out on a tour of professional business, gentlemen.

This person, who accompanies me, is Mr. Nathan Rogers, one of a tributary profession. He is a bailiff, gentleman--deputy sheriff of the county of Tryon--a worthy, time-honored profession; but one, which, unfortunately, in this county, seems not to be properly appreciated, and is not in great demand."

"Ugh!" exclaimed the Tuscarora, and turned leisurely towards the window.

"You are welcome, gentlemen," said Barton, "but I am sorry chat I cannot offer you a better hospitality; but such as I am able to give, you are welcome to."

The strangers seated themselves with an easy familiarity.

"Quite a beautiful country through here," said Bagsley. "I am always delighted when I can escape from the drudgery of the profession, and hold communion with the beauties of nature. But I must confess, you have rather _too much_ of nature around here, gentlemen. Your roads are not remarkably well worn or broken; and we have had quite a fatiguing journey; have we not, Rogers?"

Rogers a.s.sented, with a sort of affirmative grunt.

"Belong in these parts?" asked Bagsley, turning towards Ralph.

"I am only on a visit here," was the answer. "I am quite as much a stranger as yourself."

"Will you allow me to ask," continued Bagsley, addressing Barton, "how long you have resided in this section?"

"But two years," Barton replied.

"I declare! you must have been active to have accomplished so much. But, I believe," said Bagsley, with a professional Gravity, "you cannot have the fee of the property here."

"I am a sort of tenant at sufferance of the Oneidas; but should the State purchase these lands--as I believe they will, soon--I may hope to obtain a t.i.tle to what I already occupy."

"Perhaps--perhaps," answered Bagsley. "But you must be aware, as a gentleman of experience, that, by an act of the Honorable, the Legislature of the State of New York, pa.s.sed July 25, 1782, this section is particularly and definitely reserved to the Indians of the Six Nations. Now, it may be questionable--I never speak with certainty out of my office--but it may be questionable--whether the State will ever purchase these lands. Should they not--you see the point--you lose, as a matter of course, all of your improvements, and may be ejected at any time."

"Of that fact I am well aware," answered Barton, "and I run my risk, of course. But will you allow _me_ to ask, sir--if my question is not too impertinent--what business gentlemen of your profession can find in these forests?"

"I might, sir, according to the doctrine of the common law--the _leges non scriptae_--of England, which is yet the law of this State, so far as it has not been modified by statute, and according to well settled rules of the courts, decline answering that question, as it relates to business intrusted to one in a professional capacity, as well as upon other grounds; but, sir, to a gentleman of your apparent prudence and experience, and particularly so long as I may wish to obtain important information from you, I cannot refuse so reasonable a request."

"I did not ask the question," replied Barton, "from any desire to intrude upon your privacy, but only as a matter of surprise that a legal gentleman could find _any_ business in this remote wilderness that would compensate him for the trouble of coming here."

"It _may_ surprise you, sir--it would be likely to occasion surprise, sir--and I noticed that our red friend, here, expressed his astonishment on learning our profession; but the truth is, we are in pursuit of a notorious debtor, with a _capias ad respondendum_. I will describe the person, and you may be able to give me useful information as to his whereabouts. He is said to be about forty-five years of age, with grizzly hair, a tall, thin form, stoops much in walking, thin, dried-up face, but intelligent countenance, and is said to converse a great deal upon projects of speculation in property."

"Ichabod, for all the world!" exclaimed Ralph.

"Mr. Jenkins!" exclaimed Barton.

"Ugh!" broke in the Tuscarora.

"I am happy, gentlemen, that I have been able to give a description so brief, but comprehensive, that you are enabled at once to name the person of whom we are in pursuit. You see, Rogers, that we are on the right track after all."