The Pioneer Boys on the Great Lakes; or, On the Trail of the Iroquois by St. George Rathborne


  CHAPTER XXVII

  PONTIAC'S PERIL

  CLOSER came the footfalls.

  Bob almost held his breath, as he began to fear that the approachingIndians must actually step upon them, when discovery would of necessityfollow. It was a terrible moment of suspense.

  But Kenton had anticipated something of this sort, it would seem, whenhe led his little expedition into that patch of brush. The leadingfigure turned abruptly aside when just about to jump into the thicket,and those following at his heels did likewise.

  Bob, out of the tail of his eye, for he dared not even move his head,counted seven warriors go leaping past. They gave vent to tremendouswhoops as they thus burst into the village, and, from the answeringcries, it was plain to be seen that they were envoys, sent from somedistant Indian settlement to Pontiac.

  Again there was more or less noise and confusion, with dogs harking,and many voices raised, asking what it all meant. The Indian messengerswere taken into the heart of the village, where doubtless they securedan immediate interview with Pontiac and the head chiefs, after whichthey would be served a feast of baked dog, provided for the occasion.

  Once again Bob and his brother breathed easy. It had, however, beena narrow escape, and they felt that they had reason to feel thankfulbecause discovery was thus averted.

  How Sandy would have liked to be able to whisper what was passingthrough his mind; but he had been warned against this by Kenton, andrealized that silence would add to their chance of success.

  They no longer lay flat on the earth, for, with the change inconditions, Kenton led the way, once more crouching on his knees, so asto look through the little openings in the bushes.

  The hour was growing late, and by degrees they noted that the crowdshad begun to disappear from the open spaces between the numerous lodgesthat went to make up the great village of Kiashuta and his branch ofthe Seneca tribe. Already had all the squaws vanished from sight, aswell as the numerous papooses and the half-grown boys who had beenallowed to witness this wild dance in the hope that it might inspirethem with a desire to emulate the fighting warriors as they grew older.

  "Listen--the wind!"

  Sandy could not help saying this into the ear of his brother, takingadvantage of some noise close by, which he believed would muffle thesound of his voice.

  Bob had not been unmindful of the fact that the pine tops were nowswaying before the breeze. They no longer sighed and moaned, but therewas a decided "swish" as they strove to hold their heads up before therising gusts.

  Kenton, too, had taken note of this fact. He knew that it was time heand Abijah and Blue Jacket were going. They must make a detour, and yetarrive on the scene of their contemplated labors before the storm broke.

  Bob and Sandy did not attempt to follow. Their duty was to lie stillwhere they were until the alarm was given, and, with the flashing up ofnumerous fires, to retreat to a certain spot where five chestnuts grewin a clump. Here they would be joined, not only by the two scouts, butby Blue Jacket as well, and the latter was expected to bring with himthe little captive girl, their sister Kate.

  Kenton and his companion would have a dangerous mission. They intendedto apply the blazing torch to as many of the lodges on the windwardside of the village as they possibly could, so that the fire would getsuch a start that it could not possibly be put out before much damagehad been done.

  Of course, while they were thus running hither and thither, thrustingtheir firebrands this way and that, they took chances of being impaledon the spear of some furious brave, or feeling a tomahawk come crashingdown upon their heads; but so often had they dared such risks that theygave it slight heed now.

  Left alone, the young pioneers began to feel the responsibility oftheir position. There, just before them, lay the great Indian village,with its hundreds of people, and its scores upon scores of lodges, ineach of which rested those who were now declared enemies to the whites.

  True, there might be found a few whose skins were not red; but theirhearts were even blacker than that of any Indian, for such renegades asSimon Girty hated their own kind as venomously as so many snakes wouldhave done. Driven out of the settlements along the border for variouscrimes, they had joined their fortunes with the savages, and at alltimes distanced the most cruel and crafty Indian in their treacherousconduct toward the pioneers.

  There was no one close enough now to catch a low whisper, so thatSandy, who felt that he must express his feelings or burst, tookoccasion to say in the ear of the other:

  "Can you give a guess where Black Beaver's lodge lies, Bob?"

  Now, that was a matter to which the other had himself given more orless attention. When he surveyed the numerous skin shelters, with theirthree poles sticking up out of the hole at the top, where the smokeof the fire came forth, he had kept in mind what Blue Jacket told himabout the symbolic and crude paintings with which Black Beaver haddecorated his tepee.

  "When the fires burned their brightest I thought I saw it away offyonder to the right," he answered, in the same cautious tone that wouldbe utterly unheard five feet away, especially while that breeze rustledthe waving branches of the overhanging trees.

  "Yes, that is to the east, and he said it lay there," continued Sandy."But try to tell me which it was. Can you make it out still, Bob?"

  "I think so," replied the other, who knew that Sandy simply wished tofeast his hungry eyes on the wigwam thus picked out, and try to imaginethat he could see the loved form of little Kate beyond its paintedwalls.

  "Look closely," he went on, softly, "and notice that large lodge withthe buffalo and the hunter. There, a fire just blazed up, and youcan see it plainly. Now, the third one beyond has a double border ofpictures on the skin. When the light was good I could see them plainly,and I am sure they are just what Blue Jacket told me Black Beaver haddecorated his lodge with."

  "I see which one you mean, Bob, thank you." And again Sandy sighedas he glued his eyes on that particular wigwam, which he believedcontained the lode-star that had guided him through all the perilshovering in the woods between the Ohio and the Great Lakes.

  Then Sandy fell silent again. Several times he gave a quick gasp, ashe fancied he caught some movement in the vicinity of that very lodge.Could it be their faithful friend, Blue Jacket, hovering about, andmaking ready to strike when the wild alarm called the young Senecachief hurrying from his lodge to assist in fighting the devouringflames?

  Bob believed that enough time had now elapsed to allow the others toreach the stations assigned to them. That the blazing torch of theincendiary was not already in evidence he believed due to one or twocauses.

  First, Kenton may have concluded that there were still too manywarriors moving about in the village. They would be in a position toattack the holders of the firebrands, and, worse luck still, to put outthe fire before it had gained sufficient headway.

  Then again, the storm, while growling in the distance, did not showsigns of bursting upon the lake shore immediately, and its presencewas very essential, in order to make the havoc so tremendous that theterrified Indians could think of nothing save the wild fight to preventthe whole village from going up in flames and smoke.

  "Hist! yonder come two Indians this way! Be silent!"

  Bob gave this warning because he did not know what moment his brothermight attempt to communicate with him again, for Sandy always found ithard work to keep a still tongue in his head.

  Just as he had said, a couple of Indians were walking slowly in theirdirection, seemingly in deep conversation.

  Sandy nudged his brother in the side, and managed to whisper, despitethe warning he had received:

  "One is Pontiac himself!"

  But Bob had before now discovered this fact for himself; also that thecompanion of the great sachem was no other than the warlike Senecachief, Kiashuta. Perhaps Pontiac intended leaving the village atdaybreak, in order to proceed on his travels, stirring up hatred in thebreasts of every tribe he visited. And there were many things he wishedto commu
nicate to his red brother ere he went away.

  They came to a stand not more than forty feet away from the bushesbehind which the two Armstrong boys crouched. Sandy had even fearedlest they meant to enter the forest at that particular point, and in sodoing might stumble on the pair of young spies hiding there.

  But Bob had seen that they were really heading for a log that happenedto be lying in the open. Upon this they sat down, and for some littletime Pontiac continued to speak in low but earnest tones. It might behe was finding out just how many armed warriors Kiashuta could throwinto the field at short notice, when the signal belt reached him thatthe confederated tribes had risen in their might.

  Bob wished they would finish their palaver, and depart. He fearedthat, should Kenton take a notion to start operations, the presence ofthese two chiefs so near the hiding-place of himself and Sandy mightinterfere with their withdrawal, according to the plans laid out.

  Again Sandy nudged him to indicate something; but it was only thatKiashuta had arisen and hurried away, going direct to the large lodgein the centre of the village that marked the wigwam of the head chief.

  Pontiac remained seated, with his back almost directly toward thespies. His air was thoughtful, as though the weight of many problemsrested heavily upon his mind.

  By this time the boys had grown accustomed to the sight of the mostfamous of all Indian chiefs. His presence no longer inspired them withthat sensation of awe such as had marked their first glimpse of themagic leader, as he addressed the council under the sacred oak.

  "I hope he goes away soon!" whispered Sandy, unable to keep utterlystill.

  "Perhaps we can back out slowly, an inch at a time," answered hisbrother; for the storm was muttering louder now, and seemed on thepoint of developing without much waste of time. He began to follow hiswords with action, wriggling backward, and being careful not to stirthe bushes in the least.

  Sandy, realizing that his brother was actually moving, also beganto work his way back. An inch at a time, if continued for a certaindistance, would allow of their making better progress, until they couldfinally rise to their feet, and glide off to the rendezvous of the fivechestnuts.

  He was alongside Bob, and still wriggling along, keeping his eyes inthe direction where that kingly figure sat upon the log, when the olderboy felt his fingers gripping his arm.

  Sandy did not utter a single word; perhaps he could not find his voiceto do so, he was so shocked by what he had suddenly discovered. Bob,catching some of the same spirit, simply shut his hands tight together,and held his breath, while a low whispered "Oh!" fell from his partedlips.

  Just behind the sitting form of Pontiac a bending figure was creeping,and an uplifted hand clutched a terrible club, which the would-beassassin undoubtedly meant to bring down with cruel force on theunprotected head of the war sachem. And to his intense astonishment Bobrecognized in this creeping figure Jacques Larue, whom they had lefttied hand and foot in the cascade cavern!

 
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