The Pioneer Boys on the Great Lakes; or, On the Trail of the Iroquois by St. George Rathborne
CHAPTER XXIX
THE WORD OF AN INDIAN CHIEF
"WHAT is he going to do, Bob?" demanded Sandy, who had opened his eyes,after a minute or so had passed without the expected blow, and whoheard Pontiac's demand that the guns of the prisoners be handed to himwithout understanding what the meaning of the order could be.
"Watch and see!" replied Bob, in a husky voice, and without taking hiseyes off the sachem a second. He himself, as yet, had only a vaguesuspicion concerning any benefit that might spring from this action onthe part of Pontiac.
Almost as in a dream, then, Sandy saw first one musket thrust outto the famous chieftain, and then the second. Pontiac examined themeagerly, and, after handling the gun belonging to Bob, once more gaveit back into the possession of the keeper. But, as he raised that whichSandy himself had owned, a look of intelligence flashed across the darkface of the Indian.
He even raised the musket to his nose as though to smell the odorof burnt powder that must have still clung to it after the recentdischarge. Then he turned upon the two young prisoners.
"Yours?" he demanded, his flashing eyes fastened on the astonished faceof Sandy, just as though he had been able to read the nature of bothlads in that single earnest look, and understood how impulse swayed onemore than the other.
Sandy might have wished to deny all ownership of the weapon; butsomehow he was unable to do so, with those impelling eyes fastened uponhim. So, still unable to use his tongue, he simply nodded his head.
"You shoot at French trader?" continued Pontiac.
Another nod in the affirmative answered him; and then Bob saw a changebegin to spread over the dark features of the chief. He looked atSandy; but his brother failed to grasp the wonderful meaning of themiracle that had been wrought in their behalf. To his mind all thistalk only served as a forerunner to the dreadful fate that was surelyto be their portion.
"Why white boy shoot French trapper?" asked Pontiac.
Realizing that Sandy was unable to frame a coherent reply, Bob boldlytook it upon himself to make answer.
"You ask why, great Pontiac?" he said. "Because he could not lie thereand see a cowardly snake creep up behind a brave man to strike him inthe back. He sent his lead into the arm that held the warclub, andsaved the life of Pontiac!"
Then, Indian though he was, the great Pontiac smiled. Perhaps heunderstood how these paleface boys must have known that, if thetraitorous Frenchman had been allowed to carry out his will, it wouldhave been much to the advantage of the border settlements; but thatSandy, unable to control his impulse to rebuke such rank treachery asLarue exhibited, had been unable to hold his fire.
Pontiac turned to the surging crowd of Indians. He held up his hand,and every shout was stilled; even the murmuring ceased, such was hismagnetic influence over the wild spirits of hot-headed young warriorswhom their own chiefs could not restrain.
"Listen!" he said, in a voice that reached easily to the furtherextremity of the gathered throng. "Pontiac sat on yonder log. Yourchief Kiashuta had left him to seek for something that was in hislodge. In the mind of Pontiac many things dwell to give him cause forthought. He heard not the coming of the snake in the grass who crawledup behind, and swung aloft the club with which he expected to dash outthe brains of a chief.
"Listen. In the bushes and the grass lay two paleface boys. They hadguns. They had come many miles from their cabin on the running water tothe south. They had no reason to love Pontiac, who has ever been theenemy of their race; but they had hate in their hearts for a snake thatcould sting in the heel. So, quickly did this gun speak. The arm thatwas raised fell helpless. And then Pontiac closed with the treacherousFrenchman.
"Listen yet again, warriors. Had it not been for this paleface boy,where now would be your leader? How could Pontiac strike the flint thatwill make the whole border blaze with fires, if he lay here on thisground, dead?"
He looked around him as though expecting an answer; but not a singlevoice was raised. Slowly the truth was penetrating the brains of thosewho heard. They understood that, no matter what his motive may havebeen, the paleface boy had saved the famous chieftain to those who hungupon his every look or word, as though he had charmed them with hismagic.
"Release them!" Pontiac continued, making an imperious gesture towardthe warriors who were clutching the two lads; and immediately theyhastened to obey his will. "They belong to Pontiac; let one of you fromthis hour lay so much as a finger on them at his peril!"
When Sandy heard these words he seemed to regain his power of speechonce more, for he clutched Bob's arm convulsively as soon as he foundhimself free, and exclaimed:
"Bob, do you hear that? He says we are his prisoners, and that we willnot be harmed! Oh! if only we could get him to give us Kate now, what ablessed thing it would be! Perhaps after all, Bob, my hasty nature didbetter for us than all the planning. Ask him if he will help us, won'tyou, Bob? 'Strike while the iron is hot,' father always says. Speak tohim, now."
But Bob held back, for he saw that the chief had more to say, sincehe was once again turning toward them. To the delight of the boys hegravely held out his hand, white man fashion, for Pontiac had beenbrought up among the French, and knew almost as much of the white men'sways as though he had been born a paleface.
"We are friends," he said, as he pressed each hand firmly. "You havesaved the life of Pontiac. Ask what favor you will, and, if it is inhis power, so shall it be granted. First tell me what you seek, so faraway from your home?"
"In a cabin, where the swift water runs between the hills, lives ourmother," said Bob. "Our father has gone over the big hill to Richmondto bring back with him some of the things a white woman needs. Besidesmy brother and myself, there was one child, a sweet girl, about sohigh," and he held his hand below his shoulder to indicate that hissister was much shorter than himself.
Pontiac bowed his head gravely to indicate that he understood what theboy was saying.
"One day there came some Senecas to the settlement," Bob went on,eagerly. "They, held up their hands in the peace sign, and we met themas friends. They told us they had been on a long journey into Kentucky,to visit another tribe. They were without tobacco, and their stock ofmaize had dwindled low. We gave them of each, enough to last until theycould reach their lodges on the Great Lakes.
"But one young Seneca, who bore the feather of a chief in his hair,looked long on the sweet face of the white girl. He remembered that inhis lodge, far away, no longer the voice of his own sister was heard;and that the old squaw, his mother, mourned each day for the one whowas not.
"So he made up his mind to steal the paleface girl, and bear her awayto the village of the Senecas on the big water to the north. When mybrother and myself were in the forest hunting for meat he stole oursister away. We have followed him from the rushing Ohio to the GreatLakes. Our sister is here. Will the great Pontiac keep his word bygiving her back to our charge, and letting us depart for the cabinwhere a mother mourns?"
Bob knew how to put the case before the one who must be their judge, sothat, as an Indian, Pontiac could grasp it readily; and he saw from theface of the other that he had succeeded in his effort. When an Indiangives his word it is ever afterward sacred.
"Listen!" said the chief, impressively. "Look around you. There aremany Senecas here, braves and chiefs. Does the paleface boy see the onewho took tobacco and maize from the white man's hand, and then stolehis daughter?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Sandy, finding his voice. "I saw him just then, amongthose Indians yonder. There, he is trying to steal away; for he fearsthe frown of the great and just Pontiac. It is Black Beaver!"
The young chief, seeing that escape was useless, returned, and,standing before Pontiac, folded his arms across his naked chest. Wordsin the Indian tongue passed quickly between them. Black Beaver seemeddefiant at first; but presently he came under the persuasive eloquenceof the marvellous orator. He let his chin fall on his breast, andfinally, when Pontiac dismissed him with an imperious gesture, thesubdued young ch
"When he comes back he will bring the white girl," said Pontiac. "Sheshall go with the brave young boys who have sought her so far; and nota warrior will lift a hand to do them harm. More than this, because ofwhat you have done this night, you and your family are forever thefriends of Pontiac. Danger and death will never come near your cabinwhile he lives. There will be a dead line drawn about it, and woe tothe Indian who molests the friends of the chief. I have spoken!"
Loudly did his voice ring out as he said these thrilling words thatwould never be forgotten by either of the two lads as long as theylived. And far and wide would the command be sent that the little broodof David Armstrong was to be immune from all the perils of an Indianwar, even though flame and destruction swooped down upon their nearestneighbor.
"Look! he is coming back, and our sister is with him!" cried Sandy,unable to restrain his delight at sight of the one they loved so dearly.
Black Beaver did not show any emotion as he drew near. He realizedthat, when Pontiac spoke, it was for him to obey. And as a true Indian,he was ready to accept the fortunes of war, no matter how it hurt.
The Indians made a passage-way to allow them to approach. Pontiachimself took the trembling hand of the frightened girl, and led her towhere her two gallant brothers stood with outstretched arms.
"Weep no more, paleface girl. You are going home to the white squaw whomourns in the cabin on the bank of the swift water," said Pontiac, ashe released her in front of the boys.
Another instant and Kate, with a cry of joy, had flung her arms aboutthe neck of first one brother and then the other, while Pontiac stoodand watched the happy reunion without his face expressing the feelingsthat must have been struggling in his heart; for so has an Indian beentrained never to betray emotion.
How like magic had the scene been changed! Only a few minutes beforeand poor Sandy was deeply dejected, in the belief that his hasty andill-advised act had forever ruined their only chance for a rescue. Andnow they stood there, not only free, and with their dear sister giveninto their charge, but safe in the pledged friendship of the mostpowerful of all Indians, Pontiac himself.
"It seems like a dream, Bob!" cried Kate. "I can hardly believe it tobe true. How did you manage it, you and dear Sandy? Oh! how happy Iam to think that soon I shall see my own mother again! Not that BlackBeaver has been cruel to me. He tried to be a brother after his way. Iam sorry for him; but there is no one can take the place of father,mother, Bob and Sandy."
"In good time you will hear it all, Kate," said Bob. "It is a strangestory. But I wonder whether Pontiac will extend his favor to our goodfriends who have come with us to try and influence Black Beaver togive us back our sister. The whites and the Senecas are at peace, forthe hatchet has not yet been dug up between them, so we hoped to winKiashuta to our side; to have him say that Black Beaver had done wrongwhen he smote the hand that fed him."
Pontiac heard what he said, for he immediately gave the assurance Bobrequested.
"If others have come with you to bring the white girl back, they, too,shall not be harmed until they have reached the swift water. Becausethey are your friends, Pontiac has said this. So let them appear. Theyshall walk among us in safety, for the word of the chief is given."
But, though Bob raised his voice and called, none of the other fourcared to accept the invitation to come into the village and meet thesachem of the Sacs.
Perhaps it was just as well. Both Simon Kenton and Pat O'Mara werewell-known Indian fighters, and belonged to a class of men whothreatened to be thorns in the side of Pontiac in his ambitious designsto head a new confederation of tribes.
Doubtless they would be quickly recognized by some of the Indianspresent from other tribes; and even the word of Pontiac might not keepthese warriors from seeking to avenge their kin who had fallen in timespast before the rifles of Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton and their fellowborderers.