Lena-Wingo, the Mohawk : a sequel to The wilderness fugitives

Contents

CHAP. PAGE.

I— The Tory Camp, ------ 7

III— A Ray of Hope, 21

Chapter I. The Tory Camp

As the reader of The Wilderness Fugitives will recall, Ned Clinton, wandering a short distance from the cavern in which Jo Mint urn and his sister Rosa were resting, was unexpectedly captured by a band of Iroquois Indians, against whom the fugitives had been maneuvering for several days. Lena-Wingo, the matchless Mohawk, who had proven the most valuable of friends and guides, was temporarily absent on a scout to learn whether the way was open to conduct his friends into Wilkesbarre, their destination. Thus it was that, after so many thrilling experiences and narrow escapes, the youth was overtaken by the saddest of misfortunes, when on the threshold of safety itself.

s

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The captors conducted him to the camp of the Tory, Colonel Butler, he who was the author of the Wyoming massacre. It was not his regular camp or headquarters, as that was on the other side of the Susquehanna, but the post which he had established for convenience while prosecuting the search for Rosa Minturn. In this search the colonel did not engage personally, as all whom he brought with him were able to do that kind of work much better than he; but his interests were so concerned and woven into the results of this expedition that he could not wait upon the other side of the river until the news of success or failure should be brought to him. He had therefore crossed with his squad, his force in the vicinit3^ of Wilkesbarre consisting of about twenty men, nearly all of w^hom w^ere of the Iroquois people, including the best warriors and trailers of the tribe.

The camp being temporary in its nature, was of the simplest character. The weather was so warm that a fire was anything but a luxury, and that which had served to prepare the midday meal was nothing but a mass of smouldering embers, around which were grouped something like a half score of Indians, including those

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who had just come in, the others being off in the forest following up the search of the fugitives, or watching their movements, so that in case they attempted to make a sudden rush into Wilkesbarre, the force could be concentrated in time to shut them off. This group of Indians was within gunshot of the fortifications of the town. Some of the others w^ere scattered here and there on the other side, on the watch for the first movement of the whites and their Mohawk guide, intelligence of which was certain to be reported on the instant by signal. As Lena-Wingo was aware of all these precautions, and was maneuvering at the same moment on the opposite side from the camp, it will be seen that the situation was becoming critical.

Ned Clinton noticed the Indians lolling about the dead camp fire on this sultry afternoon, but he fixed his eyes on Colonel Butler himself. The last named person was sitting on a fallen tree smoking a pipe, with his eyes upon the ground, as if in deep thought, so that he failed to notice the party when it arrived. The warriors were coming and going so continually that there was nothing in the arrival of the party to lead him to suspect anything unusual. Captain Bagley

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was standing a dozen feet off, also smoking a pipe, and talking with an Indian w’^hen he noticed the prisoner. Walking over to where the colonel was sitting he whispered something in his ear. The Tory raised his head and looked at the prisoner, who stood with folded arms in front of him.

“Plello!’^ he exclaimed. “Where did you come from?”

“From the other side of the river,” answered Ned, who meant to be neither cringing nor defiant.

“What business have you on this side of the Susquehanna? ”

“I came over with a couple of friends to help escort Miss Rosa Minturn to Wilkesbarre.”

“You did, eh? And what did you want to do that for? Wasn’t she safe in her own home near Forty Fort?”

“Her parents preferred that she should stay in Wilkesbarre, until the Tories and Indians withdrew from the valley.”

“I don’t see why they should do that when I told them that I w^ould take her under my care and give her every attention.”

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Ned Clinton was tempted to say tliat the Tory had given the very reason for the flight, but he did not think it wise to provoke him, as it was plain he was in no amiable mood. Ned made no answer to the remark, but quietly waited until he should choose to address his words directly to him.

“Are you her brother?” asked Butler, looking him in the face, as if he expected to hear a falsehood in reply.

“No, I am only a friend of her brother. Wd were in the army together, and I accompanied him on this expedition.”

“What is your name?”

“Edward Clinton.”

“Ah! I have heard of you before. I think you hold a very tender feeling toward this lady.”

This was uttered with such a tinge of scorn that it stirred the anger of the youth to hear his affection for Rosa spoken of in such a slighting manner. He managed to control the indignant reply that rose to his lips, however, and contented himself with declaring that which otherwise he would have held modestly back.

“Yes, I hold her in the highest regard; indeed,

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there is no one in the world whom I love as I do her.’^

Butler seemed astonished at the boldness of this deelaration. He sat for a minute or two. puffing his pipe harder than usual, while he looked in the faee of the youth, wdth an expression made more repulsive by the stem of the pipe between the lips.

“And so you started to Wilkesbarre with her! When do you expect to get her there?”

“Well, the task of doing that rests mainly with Lena-Wingo, the Mohawk, and he told me a short time ago that he had no doubt he would place her safely within the town before to-morrow morning.”

This sounded like an impolitic revelation of the scheme of the Iroquois, but Ned knew that it was precisely what the scout would desire him to say under the circumstances.

“Do you think he wall be able to do it, when I have brought over twenty warriors of the Iroquois to capture them?”

“The Mohawk is aware of that, and does not seem to think it will be sufficient to prevent him from doing as he wishes. They tried to keep him from crossing the river, but they coiddn’t,

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and he came over right in their faces, bringing the lady, her brother and myself with him.*’

‘•That’s a different thing from entering Wilkesbarre, as he will soon find out.”

“He has already been in there to-day, and he believes he can go again, and as often as he may wish.”

“We don’t care how often he goes alone, but let him try it with the lady, and see where he will fetch up.”

This was said in a boasting manner that did not deceive Ned, who saw that the Tory had strong fears that the attempt of the Mohawk, if made, might succeed.

“Perhaps he will fail,” said the youth, in the same quiet voiee he had used from the first. “But he is so sanguine that we have strong faith in his success. To-day, as I have said, he entered the town and came out again.”

“And was discovered by a party of our warriors.”

“And killed two of them,” promptly responded the captive, unaware how much he was stirring the anger of the Tory.

“We can very well afford to spare a couple of our Indians when we have so many,”

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‘‘But you can^t spare Dick Evans so well, for, if the Mohawk had not shot him at the very time he did, he would have led the captain and his party right to the cavern where we had taken refuge.”

Colonel Butler was angrier than ever, but succeeded in keeping his passion in hand.

“There has been a feud for a long time between them, and one was bound to fall by the hand of the other sooner or later. I don’t know as it makes much difference if the time comes a little sooner than the victim expects.”

The youth noticed the wrath in the face of the Tory, and he thought it best to seek to quiet it.

“It made no difference about the shooting of Evans at that time, for if he had been let alone and had led Captain Bagley and the Indians to the cavern where we had been left, he would have seen nothing of us. He was gone but a little while from the place when we awoke, and becoming satisfied that something was wrong, we stole out and took refuge elsewhere.”

Chapter II. Captivity

The information tlius communicated by Ned Clinton was not only gratifying to Colonel Butler, but to Captain Bagley, who was standing near, listening to tbe conversation. When be heard this assurance, he ventured to strike in:

“That confirms what I told Evans all along; I said that he had waited too long, and that it was useless to expect we should find the party as they had been left in the cavern, but he was so anxious to press ahead and win the reward which the eolonel had offered that there was no persuading him, and I was forced into the thing against my better judgment.

“Still the loss of Dick is a severe one to our eause, ” said the Tory leader, taking the opposite tack, now that the others seemed to drift away from their starting point. “We could have spared a dozen other men better; he has been of great help to us ever since we started for the valley. He knew the country so well

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that he made the best of guides. That Mohawk who shot him will have to pay for it. ” ‘‘Lena-Wiugo knows the penalty he has incurred,” said Ned, “but he knows, too, that he is in no greater danger now than yesterday. Before the Iroquois can inflict the penalty on him they must get a chance. ”

“Come!” exclaimed the colonel, “I have heard all of your impudence that I mean to listen to.”

“I meant no insolence,” said Ned, apologetically, “and beg pardon if I have offended.”

“What do you mean, then, by boasting in that style to my face?”

“I was not boasting. You asked me for information and I tried to give it. If there was any boasting it must have been when. I spoke for the Mohawk, for there isn’t anything in my history that I can boast about. ”

“I should say not! You’re a pretty young man to play the lover to a lady. You can’t go out to take a walk without being picked up by a party of Indians. ”

“ That was an unfortunate slip on my part, ” assented Ned; “but we are all liable to fall into mistakes at some time or other of our lives. ”

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•When a youth like you goes out to play the eavalier for a lady, he ought to have pluck enough to fight for her. ”

This imputation upon his courage was more than Ned could bear.

“Give me a chance and you will see whether I will fight! The first thing the Indians did was to steal my gun so as to deprive me of a chance to help myself. That is the reason why I came in so quietly. A man is a fool to make a fight when he has no chance. ”

“Brave men don’t stop to weigh the chances. ”

“Suppose, then, that when the Mohawk stole toward you the other night, as you w^ere going toward him with your sword, you had stood your ground. Why, Colonel Butler would never have been spared to tell of his exploits in the Wyoming valley.^’

These were daring words for a prisoner to utter in the presence of his captor, and Ned Clinton ran more risk than he supposed. The furious Tory sprang from his seat on the log, and advanced upon the youth to punish him for the words he had dared to fling in his face. There seemed to be no escape from an indignity

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at the hands of Bntler, who drew his sword as if he meant to use it.

“I am unarmed,’^ said Ned, recoiling a pace or two, ” and if you consider it a brave thing to strike me when I have no power to strike back, I submit.”

“Strike you? Of course I shall, for these Indians have had too much trouble to get you to allow you to go unpunished. I shall turn you over to them, and when they get through there won’t be much left of Rosa Minturn’s cowardly lover. ”

At this juncture, one of the Iroquois, thinking that the colonel meant to kill the young man, stepped forward and protested, reminding him that his people had been promised the disposal of all prisoners they might capture. The Indian was some sort of a chief, whose influence was considered of value by the Tory colonel, for the latter lowered his sword and returned to his seat on the fallen tree, saying as he did so :

“I can afford to leave them to take care of you, but I warn you, young man, that I will bear no more of your insolence. You are a prisoner, and should have nothing to say. You might be better employed in making peace with

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5^our Maker, for the time you have to do it in is not very long.’^

“I try to live so that when the summons comes I shall be ready, was the dignified answer of the youth, who thus heard for the first time the intimation that he was condemned to death.

The brutal words of the Tory could not but produce a shock on one of his young and ardent temperament, but he was too high spirited to allow his captor to see anything like blanching. He was still standing with folded arms, calm and prepared for whatever might come. But one so young and daring was not prepared to give up all hope at the announcement that it was intended to put him to death, for he had an abiding faith in an overruling Providence, and he recalled the numerous dangers through which his omnipotent Friend had brought him. There remained, too, an unfaltering confidence in Lena-Wingo, who had so often appeared at the critical moment, and extricated him and his companions from peril.

The warm sultry afternoon was well advanced, and Ned began to speculate with all the powers of a naturally active mind as to what his cap-

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tors were likely to do with him. His chief curiosity w^as not whether they intended his death, for he had received assurance on that point, but rather as to the precise time, if there w^ere any determined upon, when he was to undergo the great penalty. If they meant to do it within the next hour or so he was beyond human help; but if the purpose was to wait till night, he felt justified in hoping for aid from his Mohawk friend, who w’ould be sure to find out his dilemma by that time.

After returning to his seat upon the fallen tree. Colonel Butler showed less disposition to talk than before. He was a man subject to moods — sometimes lively and entertaining, and on other occasions morose and sullen. Captain Bagley, who had become engaged in a discussion with one of the Indians (the same who interfered between the colonel and his victim) now walked to where Butler was sitting, and continued the conversation with him. He broke through the reserve of the offieer, probably because the subject was one in which he could not but feel the deepest interest — being the means by which the captive should be disposed of.

Chapter III. A Ray Of Hope

Butler and Baglej talked in low tones, desirous that the prisoner should hear nothing; but the senses of the youthful scout were strained to a supernatural fineness, and when he saw hj their glances that he was the subject of the interview, he listened intently.

‘‘One of the Indians wants to torture him right away,” said the captain.

“Well, what’s to hinder?”

“In the first place, half the redskins are gone, and among them is one of their principal men, who will be angry if he is not in at the death.”

“They will soon be here — probably by the time the preparations are made.”

“Then again, it is known that the Mohawk

is prowling around the neighborhood, and there

is no telling how soon these warriors may be

signaled to go out and help capture him. If the call should come just as everything is under way, it would make a bad mess of it.”

“That might happen any time, even if they wait till night, for I don’t see much chance of their getting him.”

“They are sure of it this time; that Mohawk ain’t the only smart Indian in the world; wx have some with us who are his equal, and there are two that have been out since morning, that are his superior.”

“I suppose they are the two that were shot while trying to eapture him,” growled Colonel Butler.

“Not at all; the rest are confident that a good aeeount will eome from them.”

“I am not, by any means.”

“We can afford to trust them in a case like this. Then, if they cateh Lena-Wingo, nothing ean break up the sport when it opens; and besides that, if they get him, a ehild will be able to bring in the girl and the boy that is w^atehing over her.”

The argument of Captain Bagley seemed to impress the Tory leader, who was in an ugly mood.

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“Well, let them have their own way; they did us such good service in the battle the other day, that we must concede all we can to them.’^

“Shall I tell them, then, that your wish is to postpone the entertainment until the rest come in and the Mohawk is captured.’^

“Did you say that the majority hold that view?

“Nearly all do.”'

“Then tell them that such is my counsel,” replied the wily leader, neglecting no occasion to conciliate his allies.

Captain Bagley walked to where quite a discussion was still going on, and communicated the words of the Tory leader. This was oil upon the troubled waters. Those who had been the loudest in demanding there should be no delay in the infliction of the torture upon the captive ceased their arguments, for when the majority were reinforced by the views of the white leader, they felt that the party opposed to them was too formidable to combat.

Most of the Indians had been grouped together, while discussing the question. They now separated, some sitting upon the ground, others wandering aimlessly off into the woods, to pass the

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time before their comrades could come in with the great Mohawk scout as their captive. It may seem strange that so many of the Iroquois should remain idle, when there was such important duty on hand. But the company were following some well arranged plan, which rendered this necessary for the time.

Ned Clinton overheard all that passed between Butler and Bagley, and was greatly relieved by the conclusion reached.

“If they defer my death till they bring in the Mohawk,” he thought, “I am safe. But I can’t hope they mean to do that. They will let me live till the rest of the warriors show themselves, which may be before dark. At any rate I have gained a respite, and I thank Heaven for it.”

The wisdom of the postponement was soon manifest. Within ten minutes several signals came from the direction of the woods, intended for the ears of the warriors. The latter were all attention, those who were on the ground springing to their feet and listening, while even Colonel Butler raised his head and looked inquiringly toward the point whence came the call, as if he, . too, would learn what it meant.

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111 tHe course of a few minutes precisely the same signals were repeated, apparently at no great distance. This time one of the Indians answered, his calls being of the same character, though a nicely trained ear would have detected a slight difference. For awhile this species of telegraphy went on, the parties invisible to each other, and yet talking like operators at the opposite ends of the electric wire.

Ned Clinton was unable to do more than guess what it all meant. But a chill went over him at the thought that possibly these signs might have conveyed the awful news of the capture of the Mohawk scout, upon whom so much depended. The thing might be improbable, but it could not be called impossible. There was more than one Iroquois searching diligently for him in the forest, and the youth had heard from the lips of Captain Bagley that these warriors were among the best that could be found in the Six Nations.

Wonderful as was the skill and prowess of Lena-Wingo, there were others of his own race who could be trained to approach him in the attainments which made him famous. When half a dozen of those Indians were abroad.

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determined to force the scout to the wall and secure his capture, it was idle to believe he was not in great danger. Suppose they should capture him? The thought caused Ned to shudder, for such an event, he was sure, would bring the ruin of all in its train as an inevitable necessitj^ The wish of the Iroquois was to hold their present prisoner until the Mohawk could be brought in, when they would make a general jollification over the death and torture of both.

This alternate signaling continued for several minutes when it ceased as suddenly as it began. Ned was hopeful it did not mean that the Mohawk had been captured, for it seemed that, if such was the fact, those who had secured him would not stop and signal but would come immediately forward with their prize. When the calling ended, about half of the party in camp moved off into the woods, all taking different directions. This gave the captive more hope.

CHAPTER lY.

ON THE THRESHOLD.

No attempt was made to bind Ned, probably because there was no necessity for the precaution. The prisoner was disarmed, and so surrounded by the vigilant Iroquois that no extra care was required to make his captivity secure. Several times Ned asked himself whether a desperate attempt on his part could result in any benefit to him. He was fleet-footed, but the warriors were among the very best that had entered the Wyoming valley, and he could not hope to equal them in that respect. Besides, every one of them held a rifle, to say nothing of the smaller arms, so that if any sudden chance should tempt him to make a dash for freedom, they could not fail to bring him down.

After the youth had turned the matter over in his mind, he concluded that, in view of what he had heard of the decision of the redskins, it would be the worst thing in the world to make the effort to get away at present, for it must

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result in his captors taking such precautions that all chance to repeat it would be beyond his power. He regarded every half hour of delay as so much in his favor. When the night should descend, there might be some reason to consider the dash w^hich had been in his mind so often; for in the favoring darkness of the forest close at hand, it was not altogether a vain hope that he could gain a start and concealment that would serve him well, and he was confident that the scout would not leave him to perish at the hands of the Tories and redmen.

The danger, then, as it seemed to him, was that the return of the Indians might lead the savages to wreak their vengeance upon him who was at their disposal. Hitherto he had maintained the standing position, but this became so wearisome that he walked to the nearest tree and sat down, with his head leaning against the trunk. As he took the few steps, every eye, including those of Colonel Butler and Captain Bagley, were fixed upon him, showing he was guarded most effectually. Ned selected his place, so that he was as near as he could get to the center of the camp, hoping thereby to

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prevent any suspicion that he meditated any attempt to escape, and to defer the binding of his limbs, which he held in dread.

No one made any objection to the movement, nor did the white men speak or pay further attention. Colonel Butler remained seated upon the fallen tree, moodily smoking his pipe and giving heed to no one, while Captain Bagley seemed to be interested in a conversation w'ith the Indian w^ho had interfered when Butler advanced to inflict the punishment upon the insolent prisoner. What the thoughts of the Tory commander were it would have been hard to guess, but it is certain they were not of a pleasant character.

It may have been that in his mind’s eye he saw again the scenes of the preceding few days; for no one who participated in the Wyoming massacre could fail to hold it in vivid remembrance to his dying day. Those events were such as were not witnessed often, even when the bitterest war is raging. He had invaded the valley, bringing the Iroquois with him as his allies, and had he not been accompanied by them, the victory of his forces would have been a rout instead; but the redskins, flushed with triumph,

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became tbe fiends wbicb they are by nature, and committed deeds of horror that the pen is powerless to describe. Colonel Butler was well aware, too, that his own men had played a part as shameful as that of the red savages. The act of the Tory named Pencil, who shot his own brother, who had taken refuge on Monacacy Island, though the only recorded instance of such an unnatural crime at that time, showed the spirit which actuated those who turned against their own country and wrought all the ruin and devastation in their power.

It may have been, as we say, that the fearful panorama of the few days before swept across his vision again, as he sat on the fallen tree, smoking his pipe and saying not a word to any of those around him; for it is well known that the stain of that terrible day remained with Colonel Butler through his life. It was one which never could be wiped out, and prevented his obtaining honors from the sovereign of England, upon which he had set his heart, and for which he used every effort.

Now and then Ned Clinton ventured to steal a glance at the colonel, but he was cautious, fear-

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ful that if the man happened to look tip and detect it, he would be angered. The situation remained thus for all of two hours, during which time nothing was seen of the Indians who had gone into the forest in answer to the summons of those who were there w^hen Ned arrived in camp. It would be difficult to picture the anxiety with which the youth watched the wearing away of the summer afternoon. How he longed for the leaden hours to hurry by, and bring the night, in which he had come to believe lay his only hope! How every falling leaf caused him to start, under the fear that it was the sound of the moccasins of the returning Iroquois.

Again and again he stole a glance at the sun, which seemed like that of the prophet, standing still in the heavens while the warfare raged below. He marked its downward progress by the limbs of the trees overhead. It crept along by the spaces between the branches as though its burning eye looked down in pity and was loth to leave him in his misery. But the longest day must have its end, and the heart of the youth gave a throb of expectancy when the orb finally sank so low in the sky that it was hidden from sight by the body of the forest.

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An hour or more must still pass before the twilight could become perceptible, but by far the greater part of the afternoon was gone, and if the Indians should continue absent much longer, Ned was hopeful that something could be done for himself. But as the day advanced, there was the greater probability of the warriors coming in, in which event he felt that hope would be gone, for he looked upon the darkness as indispensable to the success of the scheme he had formed. It was beginning to grow dark in the woods, and still nothing was seen or heard of the absent redmen. The figure of Colonel Butler on the log, with his pipe long since gone out, was showing the effect of the gathering darkness. The painted features of the Iroquois themselves were not as clearly defined as a short time before. The sun had sunk to rest, and Ned felt that a short space more must decide his fate. Was there a possibility of escaping the savages in whose power he was now placed ? Ah ! how many times he had asked himself that question since coming into camp! How fervently he had prayed to Heaven to extend its helping hand in this hour when he was unable to do aught for himself!