The Frontiersmen Part 10

"It is not often," said he, "that I have an opportunity to honor the young warriors of the Senecas. It is seldom that they visit the country of the Oneidas, in time of peace."

"The Oneidas and Senecas are brothers," said Deersfoot. "A cloud sometimes has pa.s.sed between them; but there is no cloud now. They are brothers still. The young men of the Senecas came to look on the hunting grounds of their brothers."

"The country of the Senecas is not a good country, then?" asked Barton, "I had heard that the Senecas dwelt in a garden--that they owned large lakes that are filled with fish, and forests that are filled with deer."

"My father," said Deersfoot, in deference to the grey hairs of Barton, "my father tells the truth; such is the country of the Senecas. The Great Spirit has given us a good land to dwell in. He has given us lakes that are full of fish, and forests that are full of deer. The Senecas and Oneidas belong to the same nation;--together they conquered the Sennape; and the Senecas are proud when they hear of the fame of the Oneidas. Why should we not love to look upon the country of our brothers?"

"I am glad that you like to look upon this valley, Deersfoot. I am glad to hear that there is no cloud between the Senecas and the Oneidas. It would not be well if there were."

Barton had carefully abstained from touching the point which was likely to be that of controversy. It never comports with the dignity of an Indian to show haste or curiosity; and he knew that he could maintain a better position on the question which would probably arise, if he suffered them, without any manifestation of curiosity on his part, to unfold the nature of their errand.

"The Five Nations were once a great nation," said Deersfoot, "they could travel a great many day's journey and not leave their country: the wolf that howled amidst the snows north of the great lakes, they had a right to hunt; and to gather fruits from under the warm sun of the south. But it is not so now. We are now weak; and the pale-faces are strong. The Great Spirit has willed it, and we cannot help it: we would help it if we could. But it does no good to talk. We grow weaker every day."

"The Great Spirit," said Barton, "has not been so unkind to the Five Nations. The warriors of the Five Nations have not always been wise. If they had listened to the words of the Christian teachers who have talked to them, they would have been a stronger nation. But they dug up the hatchet against their brothers of the Colonies, and they lost a great many warriors."

A gleam of deadly ferocity pa.s.sed over the face of Deersfoot for a moment, and his wild, dark eyes shot forth glances of hatred--but in an instant he recovered his composure.

"It may be that my father speaks wise. The Indians know but a little, and may be they were wrong. They lost a great many warriors, it is true.

But they pleased the eyes of their old men and squaws with many scalps of their enemies. A white man followed every warrior of the Senecas, in the path that leads to the happy hunting grounds of the Great Spirit."

The tone in which this reply of the Seneca was uttered was sufficiently startling. Ichabod stretched his tall form as if he was about to intrude upon the conversation, but at a gesture from Barton, he remained silent.

Deersfoot, after a moment's silence, continued: "We have come to have a talk with the pale-faces of the cottage. The Senecas have not got forked tongues. They have buried the hatchet with the Yengeese, and with the Colony pale-faces. They would not dig it up again. Let my brothers hear and be wise. Snake-tongue will speak."

With these words, he stepped back, with dignity, while Snake-tongue, after a few moment's hesitation, advanced towards Barton. In a low but musical voice, he commenced his harangue:

"My name is Snake-tongue. It is a good name for friends to bear--it is a bad name for enemies. The warrior is known by his name.

"Deersfoot has said that the Five Nations are weak, and that the pale-faces are strong. It may be so; I cannot dispute it. I have seen the Yankee pale-faces fight the Great King over the water for seven winters and summers--they must be strong. Deersfoot has spoken the truth.

"Deersfoot has said that the Five Nations grow weaker every day. We are now _Six_ Nations, and we are weaker than when we were _Five_ Nations.

Why is it so? The pale-faces have slain a great many of our warriors; but that has not made us weak. It is because the Great Spirit has turned the hearts of his red children against each other. If a pale-face slays an Indian, it is wrong; but it is not so wrong as it is for one Indian to slay another. The sad spirit of the dead warrior goes on its path, and complains to the Great Spirit, that its enemy does not follow him, and the Great Spirit is angry. We must shed the blood of the murderer.

It is the law of the Great Spirit, and it is a good law.

"The Yankee pale-faces are strong, when they come together in armies; but are they strong _here_? My father is away from his friends in the settlements; he has but two or three pale-paces with him. Are two or three pale-faces a match for the young warriors of the Senecas? Let my father pause and think."

"There are five of us, Snake-tongue, with plenty of rifles and powder; and good walls behind which we can stand and pick out our enemies," said Barton, who saw the tendency of this harangue, and who was disposed to meet the issue half way.

Snake-tongue continued, cold and impa.s.sive. "My father speaks the truth.

There are _five_ warriors to defend the cottage of the pale-faces. There are _four_ pale-faces, and a red man. But we have buried the hatchet with the pale-faces:--we are no longer enemies, but friends. We do not care whether there are five warriors or twenty in the cottage. We are at peace with the pale-faces. It makes no difference to us. We are friends."

"Why then, does Snake-tongue make us this long war-speech? It is true that we are friends; let us continue so."

"My father speaks wise. Let us remain friends. There is no cloud between us and the pale-faces, that the pale-faces cannot put away. A young warrior of the Senecas has been killed, and his enemy has got his scalp.

Did the pale-faces do that? No,--the pale-faces do not take scalps; but an Indian always does; a scalp looks good in his eyes. We would find the scalp of our young warrior! Where is it?"

"I am sorry," answered Barton, "if any of your young men have been killed; but Snake-tongue speaks true; he was not killed by the pale-faces. I do not know where his scalp is."

"But we know where it is," continued Snake-tongue. "It is hid beneath the belt of Canendesha. He has hid it from his friends; but he cannot hide it from the Senecas. Their eyes are sharp; they can see an enemy a great way off,--and they can find his trail if he hides. Canendesha is in the cottage of the pale-faces. We are at peace with the pale-faces; but we want the Tuscarora. He has killed a warrior of the Senecas. The Tuscarora must die. It is Indian law. It was taught us by the Great Spirit that we must punish our enemies. We want the Tuscarora."

The Indian paused, as if waiting for a reply. Barton answered--

"My brother has a bad tradition; it is not true; the Great Spirit does not teach the red men to punish their enemies. The red men have not heard right; their ears have been shut. The Great Spirit has said that the red men must love their enemies."

"I have heard," answered Snake-tongue, "of such a tradition among the pale-faces. It must be a false tradition, for the pale-faces do not believe it; _they_ punish their enemies. _We_ believe in _our_ tradition. It is a good one."

"I do not deny," said Barton, who saw that the conversation must be terminated, "but that the Tuscarora may have killed one of your young men; but did not the young Seneca try to prevent him from getting his squaw? We have heard that Panther has stolen the squaw of the Tuscarora, and will not give her up. Is that right? Do red men treat their brothers so, and expect that their hearts will be filled with peace?"

"The young squaw," answered Snake-tongue, quietly, "is in the wigwam of Panther; she can go if she does not wish to stay there; but her eyes like to look on Panther. He is a great warrior."

Ichabod could be restrained no longer. This slander of Singing-Bird was more than his friendship for Eagle's-Wing, would allow him to bear.

"See here, Snake-tongue," said he, "you're a sort of amba.s.sador here, and its again all law to make war on that sort of people; but I don't know of any law to prevent my telling you that you lie like a rascally Seneca."

Both Deersfoot and Snake-tongue started at this defiant speech of Ichabod; and at the first impulse put their hands to their belts as if to grasp their knives; but in a moment they resumed their composure, and seemed to await the reply of Barton, who said, at length:

"We have heard your demand, Snake-tongue. The Tuscarora is our friend.

He has been wronged by the Senecas. We do not believe that Singing-Bird wishes to remain in the wigwam of Panther. It cannot be true, although Panther _is_ a great warrior. We cannot give up the Tuscarora. He is our friend."

"And furthermore," said Ichabod, "we demand that you should release Singing-Bird; and tell your lying chief, that if she isn't sent along instanter, we'll come after her. I've fou't Senecas before."

"My brothers have spoken," said Snake-tongue, quietly; "I will give their words to the warriors of the Senecas. Perhaps they have spoken wise. It is not for me to say."

Thus saying, the two Indians withdrew from the grove, as quietly as they had entered it.

"The lying reptile!" exclaimed Ichabod. "To insinuate that Singing-Bird has a liking for that rascally red-skin. If he hadn't been an amba.s.sador, I would have made him swallow his words on the spot."

"The Seneca lied, undoubtedly," said Barton; "but we have now got to defend ourselves. The language and tone of Snake-tongue implied nothing less. I am getting very much interested in the history of Singing-Bird, myself; and we will find some means, in case we succeed in repelling the Senecas from the cottage, to aid the Tuscarora in rescuing her."

"That's right, Squire," said Ichabod. "Eagle's-Wing and I have sworn to do that; and Providence permitting, I'll have a chance at that foul-mouthed rascal yet."

Barton and Ichabod now entered the house, where they found Guthrie and the Tuscarora engaged, apparently, in a friendly conversation. The result of the "talk" was communicated; and although it was agreed that the Senecas would make an attack upon the cottage, yet no one seemed to think that they would immediately do so. The arrangements for defence were now, however, all made, and the duty of each individual a.s.signed, so far as it could now be done. When this was accomplished, the party separated; each, however, taking it upon himself to watch warily for the first signs of the attack.

Ralph walked out into the grove, where the recent conversation with the Senecas had taken place. He felt much anxiety for the result of the coming conflict; not that he really feared that the Indians would succeed; but he well knew that the issues of such encounters are never certain. Perhaps his warm attachment towards Ruth had much to do with this feeling; for in the event of failure in defending the cottage, were the Indians disposed to reap all the advantages of their success, as would probably be the case, in the heat of their excitement and pa.s.sion, the situation of Ruth would be extremely dangerous. He would have been much better satisfied at that moment, were Ruth at the settlements, or in some place of safety, where she would not be exposed to the accidents of the impending encounter. But it was now too late to allow of her flight, even if it had been deemed advisable. While engaged in these thoughts, Ruth, who had observed him from the cottage, approached him, and laid her light hand on his shoulder. Ralph started, but smiled as he recognized Miss Barton.

"How now, Sir Knight?" said Ruth, "you do not seem to be occupied with very pleasant thoughts."

"They ought to be of a pleasant nature, certainly," said Ralph, "for I was thinking of no one else than Miss Barton."

"I am sorry," said Ruth, "if so unworthy a person as I can give Captain Weston such a serious countenance."

"Miss Barton, I do not wish to say anything to alarm you, but all our exertions will be required to defence our lives to-night."

"Is it certain we are to be attacked so soon?" inquired Ruth, with a slight look of alarm.

"I think there can be no doubt of it; and at such a time with so few defenders, and so unmerciful and vigilant an enemy, although we have not much cause to fear defeat, yet that result is possible."

"I did not think our situation was so serious," said Ruth, now evidently alarmed. "What _can_ we do?"