In the Rocky Mountains Part 12

Away he rushed towards the level prairie; perhaps he expected to find friends there, or had his horse staked in that direction, near some wood or copse.

As soon as I perceived what Winnemak was about, I too sprang up, as did several Indians, but as they were all worn out with fatigue they were soon left behind. Being a good runner, I kept pace with the chief, although still at a considerable distance behind him, as he had had the start of me.

Day was just breaking, and there being no objects to impede the rays of the sun as it approached the horizon, the light rapidly increased.

Although I had, at first, lost sight of Winnemak, I soon again saw him, with the man he was pursuing at no great distance in front.

On the two went. Neither of them being armed, the fight was not likely to be a b.l.o.o.d.y one; still it was evident that Winnemak attached great importance to the capture of the spy. Perhaps he suspected who he was; and he evidently entertained a bitter animosity against him. I could not have supposed that he would have exhibited so much activity, judging from his appearance when clothed in his usual robes. Although he appeared to be a strong, muscular man, the other Indian, from his movements, was evidently young and active. How he had ventured to approach the camp without being armed, was a mystery. He could not, at all events, have intended to injure any one, or he would have come with his bow and arrows. As the light rapidly increased, and I saw him more clearly than at first, it struck me that he was the young brave, Piomingo, who had lately paid us a visit at the farm; but of this, seeing him at the distance he was from me, I could not be certain.

The chase promised to be a far longer one than I had expected. The stranger seemed as resolved to escape as Winnemak was to overtake him.

Few people, Indians or whites, except after long training, could have continued running so fast and for so long a period as did the spy and Winnemak.

I had the greatest difficulty in keeping near them; and, indeed, I had begun to fall behind, when I saw in front of me a broad piece of water.

The fugitive saw it too, but had he turned either to the right or to the left it would have given an advantage to his pursuer; he therefore kept straight on.

His efforts to escape were vain. As he approached the bank the ground became so soft that his feet sunk deep into it at every step. He discovered, too late, his mistake. Springing back, he attempted to make his way to the right; but in doing so he fell. Recovering himself, however, he sprang back on to the firm ground; but seeing that escape by flight was no longer possible, he turned round and boldly faced his pursuer. At the same instant a wild swan, rising from the water, flew off with a loud cry. It might have been taken for the death-wail of one of the combatants. Like a couple of wild beasts, the two Indians rushed at each other, and the next instant they were clasped in a deadly embrace. A desperate struggle ensued. It was youth and activity opposed to well-knit muscles and firm nerves.

Fierce was the contest. The young man attempted to free himself from the grasp of his opponent; now they strove to seize each other by the throat; now his antagonist bore back the chief by making a desperate spring as his feet for a moment touched the ground; but if the older man allowed himself to retreat, it was only for the purpose of wearing out the strength of the younger, which he knew would soon be exhausted.

Winnemak now seized one of his antagonist's arms, and with a movement as quick as thought threw him on his back across his own knee; then pressing him down, it appeared to me that he intended to break his spine. A fearful shriek, wrung from him by the agony he was suffering, escaped the lips of the young brave; his eyes closed--the struggle was over. Still Winnemak did not let go his victim, but gazing fiercely down on his countenance until all appearance of life had ceased, he hurled the body to the ground. As he did so he exclaimed, "Stay there!

You have betrayed me once; you would have stolen my daughter; you will no longer have the power to follow your evil practices."

The combat was over as I reached the place.

"Is he dead?" I asked, as I gazed down on the face of the vanquished brave.

"He will die," answered Winnemak; "but he still breathes."

"But I thought you wished to gain information from him?" I observed, feeling anxious to preserve the life of the poor wretch.

"I did; but now I would rather enjoy the pleasure of seeing him die."

"That is not the way we Palefaces treat a fallen enemy," I remarked.

"You must not be displeased at what I say,--I would ask you to allow me to have him brought into the camp. At all events, for the present he can do no further harm, and he may wish to show his grat.i.tude to those who have preserved his life."

"Do as you please," said the chief, after a moment's consideration.

I got some water from the lake,--finding a hard place by which I could approach it,--and threw it over the face of the fallen man, who had, I perceived, merely fainted from the excruciating pain he was suffering.

He at length opened his eyes, and seemed to recognise me. It _was_ Piomingo. The chief, I noticed, stood by, watching every movement of his late antagonist. I raised Piomingo's head, and was thankful to find that he now began to breathe more freely.

"Take care," said the chief. "He intends acting the part of the cunning fox, and will yet make an effort to escape."

Piomingo turned his eyes towards the speaker, apparently understanding him.

I was still making every effort to restore him, when several of Winnemak's followers came up.

"Then you grant my request?" I said, turning to the chief.

"I will not refuse you!" he answered; "but he will not thank you for the mercy you wish to show him."

I begged the Indians to a.s.sist me in carrying the injured man back to the camp, and the chief bade them do as I desired. Obtaining some poles from a copse which grew near, they quickly formed a litter, upon which they bore him back to the spot from which we had started. Not a groan escaped him, although I suspected, from the expression of his countenance, that he was suffering greatly. On arriving at the camp, in spite of my representations the chief ordered that his legs should be bound together, and that one of his hands should be fastened to a tree, so that he would be unable to escape.

Those who had remained in camp had prepared breakfast, to which even the wounded did ample justice. I took some food to the prisoner, who in a short time was able to swallow a little.

After some persuasion from me, and the promise of a reward, four of the Indians undertook to carry their captive to the camp of Winnemak, to which we were bound; it was very evident that otherwise he must have been left to die miserably, as he was quite unable to walk. Three of the wounded men had also to be carried, so that we formed a mournful-looking party, as, shortly after our meal was finished, we commenced our march.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

ON THE MARCH--WINNEMAK UNABLE TO GIVE ME NEWS OF MY FRIENDS--MY ARGUMENTS IN FAVOUR OF PIOMINGO--ENCAMPED FOR THE NIGHT--WE REACH WINNEMAK'S CAMP--BRAVES AND SQUAWS--WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS?--WINNEMAK AND HIS IDOLS--A PARTY OF BRAVES ARRIVE, WITH PRISONERS--MAYSOTTA AND HER DOG--A STRANGE MEETING--THE LIEUTENANT'S STORY--WE START IN QUEST OF CLARICE AND RACHEL--A FRUITLESS SEARCH--I LOSE MY FRIEND IN THE FOREST-- TRYING TO REGAIN THE RIGHT PATH, I MEET WITH CLARICE AND MAYSOTTA--MY SISTER'S STORY--I TELL HER OF THE BURNING OF THE FARM--WE SET OUT FOR THE CAMP, AND MEET WITH THE LIEUTENANT--NIGHT COMING ON, WE ENCAMP IN THE FOREST--RESUMING OUR JOURNEY IN THE MORNING, WE REACH THE CAMP IN SAFETY.

As we proceeded on our journey, I walked alongside the chief, endeavouring to gain from him all the information I could. I was surprised that he had not fallen in with Uncle Jeff, and that he had seen nothing of Lieutenant Broadstreet and Clarice. I supposed that he or his people would certainly have met them on their way to his camp-- Winnemak could only account for it by supposing that they had made a detour to avoid some party of the enemy.

"But might they not, then, have been surprised and overcome?" I asked, with much agitation.

"Not if they faced them with a bold front, or kept a proper watch at night," he answered. "Those Arrapahas are cowardly; they will only attack their enemies when they feel secure in their numbers, or can take them by surprise."

"They fought bravely enough when they a.s.saulted Uncle Jeff's farm," I observed. "I should not have called them cowards."

"They had white men with them--and only the bravest of their warriors took part in the fight," he replied.

I could only trust that Winnemak was right in his conjecture, and that we should find Clarice and her escort at the camp. With regard to Uncle Jeff, I was still more anxious, and I began to fear that, notwithstanding his clever trick, he might not have escaped the bullets and arrows of his pursuers; or his horse might have fallen, and he have been taken prisoner. Altogether, my state of mind may be better imagined than described; still, always hopeful, I continued to hope, in spite of the appearance of things, that they would all turn up right at last.

I spoke to the chief on another subject. I was not altogether satisfied as to the way in which he intended to treat his prisoner, and he did not seem at all disposed to enlighten me. I told him how white men always fed their prisoners, and took good care of the wounded; and when war was over, set them free to return to their homes.

"The ways of the Palefaces are not those of the Redskins," he answered evasively. "Piomingo must be treated according to our customs; and my braves would complain were I to set him free to commit more mischief."

I pleaded for the poor wretch that he had not done us any injury as yet; that though he had been watching the camp, we could not tell that he had any sinister object in doing so; and that, as his life had been preserved, it would be barbarous to take it afterwards.

The chief heard me very patiently, but he was evidently unmoved by all my arguments.

I now and then went up and spoke to the poor prisoner, who, I suspected, was still suffering great pain, although Indian fort.i.tude forbade him to give expression to his feelings. I urged his bearers, in the few words I could speak of their language, and by signs, to carry him carefully, for they were inclined to treat him as they would a deer or any other animal they might have shot. I saw the prisoner's eyes turned towards me, but he in no way expressed any grat.i.tude for the service I desired to render him.

Winnemak was all this time keeping a look-out on every side; while several of his men were acting as scouts, so as to give us timely notice of danger.

At night we encamped as before, keeping a strict watch; while the prisoner was bound in a way which would have rendered it difficult for him to escape even had he possessed strength enough to run off. Our camp being pitched in a sheltered position, we lighted a fire, which even at that time of the year was pleasant, if not absolutely necessary; and there was but slight risk of its position betraying our presence to any pa.s.sing foe.

The next morning we proceeded as before; and I was thankful when at length, just as evening was approaching, the chief told me that we were not far from the camp. I looked out eagerly ahead for the first sight of it, for I hoped to meet Clarice and Uncle Jeff there, and to have my anxiety at last set at rest.

The sun was just tinging the southern side of the snowy mountains on our left, ere it sank below them, when I caught sight of the wigwams of the Kaskaskias, on the slopes of a pine-covered hill. The camp as we drew near did not present a very attractive appearance. The wigwams were such as are only used in summer--a few poles, covered with buffalo hides, or deer skins, more to afford shelter from the heat of the sun, or from a downfall of rain, than protection from the cold. A number of squaws were seated about, some inside the tents nursing papooses, others tending large pots of broth boiling over fires. A few braves were standing about, and others looking after the horses of the tribe, which they had apparently just driven in from pasture; while a pack of dogs, the most ill-favoured of mongrels ever seen, were squatted about, watching for the offal which might be thrown to them, or ready to rush in and seize any of the meat which might for a moment be left unguarded.

The women continued at their various employments, but the braves, as we approached, advanced to meet us. The chief halted and addressed them, but I could not follow him. I judged, however, by the intonations of his voice, that he was telling them of his defeat, and the loss of so many of their people. Meantime, I was looking about eagerly for signs of Clarice, Uncle Jeff, and Manley, but nowhere could I see any. Still, I knew it would be contrary to Indian etiquette to interrupt the chief by inquiring for them.

On hearing of the various disasters which had occurred, the men showed but little emotion. The chief, I observed, now pointed to his prisoner, by which I feared the worst for poor Piomingo.

As soon as I could venture to address the braves, I inquired for Clarice and the officer; and great was my dismay to find that they had not arrived at the camp, nor had Uncle Jeff appeared.

The chief now asked for his daughter.