The Scouts of the Valley Page 6

  CHAPTER VI. THE EVIL SPIRIT'S WORK

  Henry slipped forth with the crowd from the Long House, stoopingsomewhat and shrinking into the smallest possible dimensions. But therewas little danger now that any one would notice him, as long as hebehaved with prudence, because all grief and solemnity were thrownaside, and a thousand red souls intended to rejoice. A vast banquet wasarranged. Great fires leaped up all through the village. At every firethe Indian women, both young and old, were already far forward with thecooking. Deer, bear, squirrel, rabbit, fish, and every other varietyof game with which the woods and rivers of western New York andPennsylvania swarmed were frying or roasting over the coals, and the airwas permeated with savory odors. There was a great hum of voices andan incessant chattering. Here in the forest, among themselves, and incomplete security, the Indian stoicism was relaxed. According to theircustoms everybody fell to eating at a prodigious rate, as if they hadnot tasted anything for a month, and as if they intended to eat enoughnow to last another month.

  It was far into the night, because the ceremonies had lasted a longtime, but a brilliant moon shone down upon the feasting crowd, and theflames of the great fires, yellow and blue, leaped and danced. This wasan oasis of light and life. Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea sat togetherbefore the largest fire, and they ate with more restraint than theothers. Even at the banquet they would not relax their dignity asgreat chiefs. Old Skanawati, the Onondaga, old Atotarho, Onondaga, too,Satekariwate, the Mohawk, Kanokarih, the Seneca, and others, head chiefsthough they were of the three senior tribes, did not hesitate to eat asthe rich Romans of the Empire ate, swallowing immense quantities of allkinds of meat, and drinking a sort of cider that the women made. Severalwarriors ate and drank until they fell down in a stupor by the fires.The same warriors on the hunt or the war path would go for days withoutfood, enduring every manner of hardship. Now and then a warrior wouldleap up and begin a chant telling of some glorious deed of his. Those athis own fire would listen, but elsewhere they took no notice.

  In the largest open space a middle-aged Onondaga with a fine facesuddenly uttered a sharp cry: "Hehmio!" which he rapidly repeated twice.Two score voices instantly replied, "Heh!" and a rush was made for him.At least a hundred gathered around him, but they stood in a respectfulcircle, no one nearer than ten feet. He waved his hand, and all sat downon the ground. Then, he, too, sat down, all gazing at him intently andwith expectancy.

  He was a professional story-teller, an institution great and honoredamong the tribes of the Iroquois farther back even than Hiawatha. Hebegan at once the story of the warrior who learned to talk with thedeer and the bear, carrying it on through many chapters. Now and then adelighted listener would cry "Hah!" but if anyone became bored and fellasleep it was considered an omen of misfortune to the sleeper, and hewas chased ignominiously to his tepee. The Iroquois romancer was betterprotected than the white one is. He could finish some of his stories inone evening, but others were serials. When he arrived at the end of thenight's installment he would cry, "Si-ga!" which was equivalent to our"To be continued in our next." Then all would rise, and if tired wouldseek sleep, but if not they would catch the closing part of some otherstory-teller's romance.

  At three fires Senecas were playing a peculiar little wooden flute oftheir own invention, that emitted wailing sounds not without a certainsweetness. In a corner a half dozen warriors hurt in battle were bathingtheir wounds with a soothing lotion made from the sap of the bass wood.

  Henry lingered a while in the darkest corners, witnessing the feasting,hearing the flutes and the chants, listening for a space to thestory-tellers and the enthusiastic "Hahs!" They were so full of feastingand merrymaking now that one could almost do as he pleased, and he stoletoward the southern end of the village, where he had noticed severalhuts, much more strongly built than the others. Despite all his naturalskill and experience his heart beat very fast when he came to the first.He was about to achieve the great exploration upon which he had venturedso much. Whether he would find anything at the end of the risk he ran,he was soon to see.

  The hut, about seven feet square and as many feet in height, was builtstrongly of poles, with a small entrance closed by a clapboard doorfastened stoutly on the outside with withes. The hut was well in theshadow of tepees, and all were still at the feasting and merrymaking.He cut the withes with two sweeps of his sharp hunting knife, opened thedoor, bent his head, stepped in and then closed the door behind him, inorder that no Iroquois might see what had happened.

  It was not wholly dark in the hut, as there were cracks between thepoles, and bars of moonlight entered, falling upon a floor of bark. Theyrevealed also a figure lying full length on one side of the hut. A greatpulse of joy leaped up in Henry's throat, and with it was a deep pity,also. The figure was that of Shif'less Sol, but he was pale and thin,and his arms and legs were securely bound with thongs of deerskin.

  Leaning over, Henry cut the thongs of the shiftless one, but he did notstir. Great forester that Shif'less Sol was, and usually so sensitive tothe lightest movement, he perceived nothing now, and, had he not foundhim bound, Henry would have been afraid that he was looking upon hisdead comrade. The hands of the shiftless one, when the hands were cut,had fallen limply by his side, and his face looked all the more pallidby contrast with the yellow hair which fell in length about it. But itwas his old-time friend, the dauntless Shif'less Sol, the last of thefive to vanish so mysteriously.

  Henry bent down and pulled him by the shoulder. The captive yawned,stretched himself a little, and lay still again with closed eyes.Henry shook him a second time and more violently. Shif'less Sol sat upquickly, and Henry knew that indignation prompted the movement. Sol heldhis arms and legs stiffly and seemed to be totally unconscious that theywere unbound. He cast one glance upward, and in the dim light saw thetall warrior bending over him.

  "I'll never do it, Timmendiquas or White Lightning, whichever name youlike better!" he exclaimed. "I won't show you how to surprise the whitesettlements. You can burn me at the stake or tear me in pieces first.Now go away and let me sleep."

  He sank back on the bark, and started to close his eyes again. It wasthen that he noticed for the first time that his hands were unbound.He held them up before his face, as if they were strange objects whollyunattached to himself, and gazed at them in amazement. He moved his legsand saw that they, too, were unbound. Then he turned his startled gazeupward at the face of the tall warrior who was looking down at him.Shif'less Sol was wholly awake now. Every faculty in him was alive, andhe pierced through the Shawnee disguise. He knew who it was. He knewwho had come to save him, and he sprang to his feet, exclaiming the oneword:

  "Henry!"

  The hands of the comrades met in the clasp of friendship which only manydangers endured together can give.

  "How did you get here?" asked the shiftless one in a whisper.

  "I met an Indian in the forest," replied Henry, "and well I am now he."

  Shif'less Sol laughed under his breath.

  "I see," said he, "but how did you get through the camp? It's a bigone, and the Iroquois are watchful. Timmendiquas is here, too, with hisWyandots."

  "They are having a great feast," replied Henry, "and I could go aboutalmost unnoticed. Where are the others, Sol?"

  "In the cabins close by."

  "Then we'll get out of this place. Quick! Tie up your hair! In thedarkness you can easily pass for an Indian."

  The shiftless one drew his hair into a scalp lock, and the two slippedfrom the cabin, closing the door behind them and deftly retying thethongs, in order that the discovery of the escape might occur as lateas possible. Then they stood a few moments in the shadow of the hut andlistened to the sounds of revelry, the monotone of the story-tellers,and the chant of the singers.

  "You don't know which huts they are in, do you?" asked Henry, anxiously.

  "No, I don't," replied the shiftless one.

  "Get back!" exclaimed Henry softly. "Don't you see who's passing outthere?"

 
; "Braxton Wyatt," said Sol. "I'd like to get my hands on that scoundrel.I've had to stand a lot from him."

  "The score must wait. But first we'll provide you with weapons. See,the Iroquois have stacked some of their rifles here while they're at thefeast."

  A dozen good rifles had been left leaning against a hut near by, andHenry, still watching lest he be observed, chose the best, with itsammunition, for his comrade, who, owing to his semi-civilized attire,still remained in the shadow of the other hut.

  "Why not take four?" whispered the shiftless one. "We'll need them forthe other boys."

  Henry took four, giving two to his comrade, and then they hastilyslipped back to the other side of the hut. A Wyandot and a Mohawk werepassing, and they had eyes of hawks. Henry and Sol waited until theformidable pair were gone, and then began to examine the huts, trying tosurmise in which their comrades lay.

  "I haven't seen 'em a-tall, a-tall," said Sol, "but I reckon from thetalk that they are here. I was s'prised in the woods, Henry. A halfdozen reds jumped on me so quick I didn't have time to draw a weepin.Timmendiquas was at the head uv 'em an' he just grinned. Well, he is agreat chief, if he did truss me up like a fowl. I reckon the same thinghappened to the others."

  "Come closer, Sol! Come closer!" whispered Henry. "More warriors arewalking this way. The feast is breaking up, and they'll spread allthrough the camp."

  A terrible problem was presented to the two. They could no longer searchamong the strong huts, for their comrades. The opportunity to save hadlasted long enough for one only. But border training is stern, and thesetwo had uncommon courage and decision.

  "We must go now, Sol," said Henry, "but we'll come back."

  "Yes," said the shiftless one, "we'll come back."

  Darting between the huts, they gained the southern edge of the forestbefore the satiated banqueters could suspect the presence of an enemy.Here they felt themselves safe, but they did not pause. Henry led theway, and Shif'less Sol followed at a fair degree of speed.

  "You'll have to be patient with me for a little while, Henry," saidSol in a tone of humility. "When I wuz layin' thar in the lodge with myhands an' feet tied I wuz about eighty years old, jest ez stiff ez couldbe from the long tyin'. When I reached the edge o' the woods the bloodwuz flowin' lively enough to make me 'bout sixty. Now I reckon I'mfifty, an' ef things go well I'll be back to my own nateral age in twoor three hours."

  "You shall have rest before morning," said Henry, "and it will be in agood place, too. I can promise that."

  Shif'less Sol looked at him inquiringly, but he did not say anything.Like the rest of the five, Sol had acquired the most implicit confidencein their bold young leader. He had every reason to feel good. Thatpainful soreness was disappearing from his ankles. As they advancedthrough the woods, weeks dropped from him one by one. Then the monthsbegan to roll away, and at last time fell year by year. As theyapproached the deeps of the forest where the swamp lay, Solomon Hyde,the so called shiftless one, and wholly undeserving of the name, wasyoung again.

  "I've got a fine little home for us, Sol," said Henry. "Best we've hadsince that time we spent a winter on the island in the lake. This islittler, but it's harder to find. It'll be a fine thing to know you'resleeping safe and sound with five hundred Iroquois warriors only a fewmiles away."

  "Then it'll suit me mighty well," said Shif'less Sol, grinning broadly."That's jest the place fur a lazy man like your humble servant, which isme."

  They reached the stepping stones, and Henry paused a moment.

  "Do you feel steady enough, Sol, to jump from stone to stone?" he asked.

  "I'm feelin' so good I could fly ef I had to," he replied. "Jest youjump on, Henry, an' fur every jump you take you'll find me only one jumpbehind you!"

  Henry, without further ado, sprang from one stone to another, and behindhim, stone for stone, came the shiftless one. It was now past midnight,and the moon was obscured. The keenest eyes twenty yards away couldnot have seen the two dusky figures as they went by leaps into the veryheart of the great, black swamp. They reached the solid ground, and thenthe hut.

  "Here, Sol," said Henry, "is my house, and yours, also, and soon, Ihope, to be that of Paul, Tom, and Jim, too."

  "Henry," said Shif'less Sol, "I'm shorely glad to come."

  They went inside, stacked their captured rifles against the wall, andsoon were sound asleep.

  Meanwhile sleep was laying hold of the Iroquois village, also. They hadeaten mightily and they had drunk mightily. Many times had they told theglories of Hode-no-sau-nee, the Great League, and many times had theygladly acknowledged the valor and worth of Timmendiquas and the bravelittle Wyandot nation. Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea had sat sideby side throughout the feast, but often other great chiefs were withthem-Skanawati, Atotarho, and Hahiron, the Onondagas; Satekariwate, theMohawk; Kanokarih and Kanyadoriyo, the Senecas; and many others.

  Toward midnight the women and the children left for the lodges, and soonthe warriors began to go also, or fell asleep on the ground, wrappedin their blankets. The fires were allowed to sink low, and at last theolder chiefs withdrew, leaving only Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea.

  "You have seen the power and spirit of the Iroquois," saidThayendanegea. "We can bring many more warriors than are here into thefield, and we will strike the white settlements with you."

  "The Wyandots are not so many as the warriors of the Great League," saidTimmendiquas proudly, "but no one has ever been before them in battle."

  "You speak truth, as I have often heard it," said Thayendanegeathoughtfully. Then he showed Timmendiquas to a lodge of honor, thefinest in the village, and retired to his own.

  The great feast was over, but the chiefs had come to a momentousdecision. Still chafing over their defeat at Oriskany, they would makea new and formidable attack upon the white settlements, and Timmendiquasand his fierce Wyandots would help them. All of them, from the oldestto the youngest, rejoiced in the decision, and, not least, the famousThayendanegea. He hated the Americans most because they were uponthe soil, and were always pressing forward against the Indian. TheEnglishmen were far away, and if they prevailed in the great war, themarch of the American would be less rapid. He would strike once morewith the Englishmen, and the Iroquois could deliver mighty blows on theAmerican rearguard. He and his Mohawks, proud Keepers of the WesternGate, would lead in the onset. Thayendanegea considered it a goodnight's work, and he slept peacefully.

  The great camp relapsed into silence. The warriors on the groundbreathed perhaps a little heavily after so much feasting, and the fireswere permitted to smolder down to coals. Wolves and panthers drawn bythe scent of food crept through the thickets toward the faint firelight,but they were afraid to draw near. Morning came, and food and drinkwere taken to the lodges in which four prisoners were held, prisonersof great value, taken by Timmendiquas and the Wyandots, and held at hisurgent insistence as hostages.

  Three were found as they had been left, and when their bonds wereloosened they ate and drank, but the fourth hut was empty. The one whospoke in a slow, drawling way, and the one who seemed to be the mostdangerous of them all, was gone. Henry and Sol had taken the severedthongs with them, and there was nothing to show how the prisoner haddisappeared, except that the withes fastening the door had been cut.

  The news spread through the village, and there was much excitement.Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas came and looked at the empty hut.Timmendiquas may have suspected how Shif'less Sol had gone, but he saidnothing. Others believed that it was the work of Hahgweh-da-et-gah (TheSpirit of Evil), or perhaps Ga-oh (The Spirit of the Winds) had takenhim away.

  "It is well to keep a good watch on the others," said Timmendiquas, andThayendanegea nodded.

  That day the chiefs entered the Long House again, and held a great warcouncil. A string of white wampum about a foot in length was passedto every chief, who held it a moment or two before handing it to hisneighbors. It was then laid on a table in the center of the room, theends touching. This signified harmon
y among the Six Nations. All thechiefs had been summoned to this place by belts of wampum sent to thedifferent tribes by runners appointed by the Onondagas, to whom thishonor belonged. All treaties had to be ratified by the exchange ofbelts, and now this was done by the assembled chiefs.

  Timmendiquas, as an honorary chief of the Mohawks, and as the real headof a brave and allied nation, was present throughout the council. Hisadvice was asked often, and when he gave it the others listened withgravity and deference. The next day the village played a great game oflacrosse, which was invented by the Indians, and which had been playedby them for centuries before the arrival of the white man. In this casethe match was on a grand scale, Mohawks and Cayugas against Onondagasand Senecas.

  The game began about nine o'clock in the morning in a great naturalmeadow surrounded by forest. The rival sides assembled opposite eachother and bet heavily. All the stakes, under the law of the game, werelaid upon the ground in heaps here, and they consisted of the articlesmost precious to the Iroquois. In these heaps were rifles, tomahawks,scalping knives, wampum, strips of colored beads, blankets, swords,belts, moccasins, leggins, and a great many things taken as spoil inforays on the white settlements, such is small mirrors, brushes ofvarious kinds, boots, shoes, and other things, the whole making a vastassortment.

  These heaps represented great wealth to the Iroquois, and the olderchiefs sat beside them in the capacity of stakeholders and judges.

  The combatants, ranged in two long rows, numbered at least five hundredon each side, and already they began to show an excitement approachingthat which animated them when they would go into battle. Their eyesglowed, and the muscles on their naked backs and chests were tense forthe spring. In order to leave their limbs perfectly free for effort theywore no clothing at all, except a little apron reaching from the waistto the knee.

  The extent of the playground was marked off by two pair of "byes" likethose used in cricket, planted about thirty rods apart. But the goals ofeach side were only about thirty feet apart.

  At a signal from the oldest of the chiefs the contestants arrangedthemselves in two parallel lines facing each other, inside the area andabout ten rods apart. Every man was armed with a strong stick three anda half to four feet in length, and curving toward the end. Uponthis curved end was tightly fastened a network of thongs of untanneddeerskin, drawn until they were rigid and taut. The ball with which theywere to play was made of closely wrapped elastic skins, and was aboutthe size of an ordinary apple.

  At the end of the lines, but about midway between them, sat the chiefs,who, besides being judges and stakeholders, were also score keepers.They kept tally of the game by cutting notches upon sticks. Every timeone side put the ball through the other's goal it counted one, but therewas an unusual power exercised by the chiefs, practically unknown tothe games of white men. If one side got too far ahead, its score wascut down at the discretion of the chiefs in order to keep the game moreeven, and also to protract it sometimes over three or four days. Thewarriors of the leading side might grumble among one another at theamount of cutting the chiefs did, but they would not dare to make anyprotest. However, the chiefs would never cut the leading side down to anabsolute parity with the other. It was always allowed to retain a marginof the superiority it had won.

  The game was now about to begin, and the excitement became intense. Eventhe old judges leaned forward in their eagerness, while the brown bodiesof the warriors shone in the sun, and the taut muscles leaped up underthe skin. Fifty players on each side, sticks in hand, advanced to thecenter of the ground, and arranged themselves somewhat after the fashionof football players, to intercept the passage of the ball toward theirgoals. Now they awaited the coming of the ball.

  There were several young girls, the daughters of chiefs. The mostbeautiful of these appeared. She was not more than sixteen or seventeenyears of age, as slender and graceful as a young deer, and she wasdressed in the finest and most richly embroidered deerskin. Her head wascrowned with a red coronet, crested with plumes, made of the feathers ofthe eagle and heron. She wore silver bracelets and a silver necklace.

  The girl, bearing in her hand the ball, sprang into the very center ofthe arena, where, amid shouts from all the warriors, she placed it uponthe ground. Then she sprang back and joined the throng of spectators.Two of the players, one from each side, chosen for strength anddexterity, advanced. They hooked the ball together in their united batsand thus raised it aloft, until the bats were absolutely perpendicular.Then with a quick, jerking motion they shot it upward. Much mightbe gained by this first shot or stroke, but on this occasion the twoplayers were equal, and it shot almost absolutely straight into the air.The nearest groups made a rush for it, and the fray began.

  Not all played at once, as the crowd was so great, but usually twenty orthirty on each side struck for the ball, and when they became exhaustedor disabled were relieved by similar groups. All eventually came intoaction.

  The game was played with the greatest fire and intensity, assumingsometimes the aspect of a battle. Blows with the formidable sticks weregiven and received. Brown skins were streaked with blood, heads werecracked, and a Cayuga was killed. Such killings were not unusual inthese games, and it was always considered the fault of the man who fell,due to his own awkwardness or unwariness. The body of the dead Cayugawas taken away in disgrace.

  All day long the contest was waged with undiminished courage and zeal,party relieving party. The meadow and the surrounding forest resoundedwith the shouts and yells of combatants and spectators. The old squawswere in a perfect frenzy of excitement, and their shrill screams ofapplause or condemnation rose above every other sound.

  On this occasion, as the contest did not last longer than one day, thechiefs never cut down the score of the leading side. The game closedat sunset, with the Senecas and Onondagas triumphant, and richer by farthan they were in the morning. The Mohawks and Cayugas retired, strippedof their goods and crestfallen.

  Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea, acting as umpires watched the gameclosely to its finish, but not so the renegades Braxton Wyatt andBlackstaffe. They and Quarles had wandered eastward with some Delawares,and had afterward joined the band of Wyandots, though Timmendiquas gavethem no very warm welcome. Quarles had left on some errand a few daysbefore. They had rejoiced greatly at the trapping of the four, one byone, in the deep bush. But they had felt anger and disappointment whenthe fifth was not taken, also. Now both were concerned and alarmed overthe escape of Shif'less Sol in the night, and they drew apart from theIndians to discuss it.

  "I think," said Wyatt, "that Hyde did not manage it himself, all alone.How could he? He was bound both hand and foot; and I've learned, too,Blackstaffe, that four of the best Iroquois rifles have been taken. Thatmeans one apiece for Hyde and the three prisoners that are left."

  The two exchanged looks of meaning and understanding.

  "It must have been the boy Ware who helped Hyde to get away," saidBlackstaffe, "and their taking of the rifles means that he and Hydeexpect to rescue the other three in the same way. You think so, too?"

  "Of course," replied Wyatt. "What makes the Indians, who are sowonderfully alert and watchful most of the time, become so careless whenthey have a great feast?"

  Blackstaffe shrugged his shoulders.

  "It is their way," he replied. "You cannot change it. Ware must havenoticed what they were about, and he took advantage of it. But I don'tthink any of the others will go that way."

  "The boy Cotter is in here," said Braxton Wyatt, tapping the side of asmall hut. "Let's go in and see him."

  "Good enough," said Blackstaffe. "But we mustn't let him know that Hydehas escaped."

  Paul, also bound hand and foot, was lying on an old wolfskin. He, too,was pale and thin-the strict confinement had told upon him heavily-butPaul's spirit could never be daunted. He looked at the two renegadeswith hatred and contempt.

  "Well, you're in a fine fix," said Wyatt sneeringly. "We just came in totell you that we took Henry Ware last night.
"

  Paul looked him straight and long in the eye, and he knew that therenegade was lying.

  "I know better," he said.

  "Then we will get him," said Wyatt, abandoning the lie, "and all of youwill die at the stake."

  "You, will not get him," said Paul defiantly, "and as for the rest ofus dying at the stake, that's to be seen. I know this: Timmendiquasconsiders us of value, to be traded or exchanged, and he's too smarta man to destroy what he regards as his own property. Besides, we mayescape. I don't want to boast, Braxton Wyatt, but you know that we'rehard to hold."

  Then Paul managed to turn over with his face to the wall, as if he werethrough with them. They went out, and Braxton Wyatt said sulkily:

  "Nothing to be got out of him."

  "No," said Blackstaffe, "but we must urge that the strictest kind ofguard be kept over the others."

  The Iroquois were to remain some time at the village, because all theirforces were not yet gathered for the great foray they had in mind. TheOnondaga runners were still carrying the wampum belts of purple shells,sign of war, to distant villages of the tribes, and parties of warriorswere still coming in. A band of Cayugas arrived that night, and withthem they brought a half starved and sick, Lenni-Lenape, whom they hadpicked up near the camp. The Lenni-Lenape, who looked as if he mighthave been when in health a strong and agile warrior, said that news hadreached him through the Wyandots of the great war to be waged by theIroquois on the white settlements, and the spirits would not let himrest unless he bore his part in it. He prayed therefore to be acceptedamong them.

  Much food was given to the brave Lenni-Lenape, and he was sent to alodge to rest. To-morrow he would be well, and he would be welcomed tothe ranks of the Cayugas, a Younger nation. But when the morning came,the lodge was empty. The sick Lenni-Lenape was gone, and with him theboy, Paul, the youngest of the prisoners. Guards bad been posted allaround the camp, but evidently the two had slipped between. Braveand advanced as were the Iroquois, superstition seized upon them.Hah-gweli-da-et-gah was at work among them, coming in the form of thefamished Lenni-Lenape. He had steeped them in a deep sleep, and thenhe had vanished with the prisoner in Se-oh (The Night). Perhaps lie hadtaken away the boy, who was one of a hated race, for some sacrifice ormystery of his own. The fears of the Iroquois rose. If the Spirit ofEvil was among them, greater harm could be expected.

  But the two renegades, Blackstaffe and Wyatt, raged. They did notbelieve in the interference of either good spirits or bad spirits, andjust now their special hatred was a famished Lenni-Lenape warrior.

  "Why on earth didn't I think of it?" exclaimed Wyatt. "I'm sure now byhis size that it was the fellow Hyde. Of Course he slipped to the lodge,let Cotter out, and they dodged about in the darkness until they escapedin the forest. I'll complain to Timmendiquas."

  He was as good as his word, speaking of the laxness of both Iroquois andWyandots. The great White Lightning regarded him with an icy stare.

  "You say that the boy, Cotter, escaped through carelessness?" he asked.

  "I do," exclaimed Wyatt.

  "Then why did you not prevent it?"

  Wyatt trembled a little before the stern gaze of the chief.

  "Since when," continued Timmendiquas, "have you, a deserter front yourown people, had the right to hold to account the head chief of theWyandots?" Braxton Wyatt, brave though he undoubtedly was, trembled yetmore. He knew that Timmendiquas did not like him, and that the Wyandotchieftain could make his position among the Indians precarious.

  "I did not mean to say that it was the fault of anybody in particular,"he exclaimed hastily, "but I've been hearing so much talk about theSpirit of Evil having a hand in this that I couldn't keep front sayingsomething. Of course, it was Henry Ware and Hyde who did it!"

  "It may be," said Timmendiquas icily, "but neither the Manitou of theWyandots, nor the Aieroski of the Iroquois has given to me the eyes tosee everything that happens in the dark."

  Wyatt withdrew still in a rage, but afraid to say more. He andBlackstaffe held many conferences through the day, and they longed forthe presence of Simon Girty, who was farther west.

  That night an Onondaga runner arrived from one of the farthest villagesof the Mohawks, far east toward Albany. He had been sent from a farthervillage, and was not known personally to the warriors in the great camp,but he bore a wampum belt of purple shells, the sign of war, and hereported directly to Thayendanegea, to whom he brought stirring andsatisfactory words. After ample feasting, as became one who had comeso far, he lay upon soft deerskins in one of the bark huts and soughtsleep.

  But Braxton Wyatt, the renegade, could not sleep. His evil spirit warnedhim to rise and go to the huts, where the two remaining prisoners werekept. It was then about one o'clock in the morning, and as he passed hesaw the Onondaga runner at the door of one of the prison lodges. He wasabout to cry out, but the Onondaga turned and struck him such a violentblow with the butt of a pistol, snatched from under his deerskin tunic,that he fell senseless. When a Mohawk sentinel found and revived himan hour later, the door of the hut was open, and the oldest of theprisoners, the one called Ross, was gone.

  Now, indeed, were the Iroquois certain that the Spirit of Evil wasamong them. When great chiefs like Timmendiquas and Thayendanegeawere deceived, how could a common warrior hope to escape its wickedinfluence!

  But Braxton Wyatt, with a sore and aching head, lay all day on a bed ofskins, and his friend, Moses Blackstaffe, could give him no comfort.

  The following night the camp was swept by a sudden and tremendous stormof thunder and lightning, wind and rain. Many of the lodges were throwndown, and when the storm finally whirled itself away, it was found thatthe last of the prisoners, he of the long arms and long legs, had goneon the edge of the blast.

  Truly the Evil Spirit had been hovering over the Iroquois village.