Abel Merriweather started violently. How did the forest girl know that John Darknight had done this?

"This is insulting, and from a characterless girl at that!" the guide exclaimed, advancing a step.

"Hear her through," said Kate firmly. "You have had your say; she shall have hers. Now," to Areotha, "tell us if you are the witch he calls you--tell us if you have ever decoyed the boats of our people to an ambush."

"Areotha will speak boldly, though that man may repeat her words among the Wyandot lodges, and the warriors on the trail. She is the pale faces' friend. If the bee does not love to gather honey from the flower: if the Manitou does not love his white and red children, then Areotha has decoyed the boats ash.o.r.e! She has spoken, and since she built the first fire for old Madgitewa, her Indian mother, her tongue has not told a lie."

Kate Merriweather looked up triumphant. She believed that Little Moccasin had told the truth, for candor was in her voice, and innocence in her soft eyes.

"There is an antagonism between your statements," Oscar Parton said, addressing John Darknight. "They do not harmonize as I would like to see them do."

"Just as if you expected to hear that cunning forest trollop----"

"Please be sparing with your epithets, Mr. Darknight. Do not forget that you are in the presence of ladies," said the young man, interrupting.

"Yes, sir," was the tart rejoinder, accompanied with a quick, angry glance at Kate. "Yes, sir! I will, for I am a gentleman; but I was saying that you seem to have expected a confirmation of my truthful charges from the accused herself. I know her but too well, and many a poor white man and his little family have tasted death in the Maumee through her treachery. But if you wish to test it, I shall not stand between. When John Darknight's words of warning can be brushed aside by the lies of a girl like that one, it is high time for him to betake himself away. You will repent soon enough. Trust the witch and get to Wayne, _if you can_!"

With the last word still quivering his lips, the guide shouldered his heavy rifle and tightened his belt, as if bent on departure.

"How do you know that we believe the girl?" asked the settler, who had not spoken for several minutes.

"How do I know anything?" was the snappish answer. "Do you suppose that I am blind, and a dunce in the bargain? Warm the viper in your bosoms, and, as you deserve perhaps, let it sting you to death."

Then the guide strode madly away, and reached the edge of the river bank before another word was uttered.

The events of the last moment had thrown consternation into the little camp, and the guide's hot words, mien, and his desertion, seemed to paralyze the tongues of the fugitives.

But Abel Merriweather, white as a sheet and with flashing eyes, called out in a tone that halted the guide on the top of the bank:

"One more word, sir!" he said. "John Darknight, I ought to shoot you.

Last night an Indian swam the Maumee and you met him at the water's edge. There you proved yourself a low-bred renegade, a traitor to your own people--the plotter of the destruction of my family. I ought to kill you where you stand!"

The guide did not reply. For a moment he gazed at the speaker and heard the clicking of four rifle locks. Then he burst into a coa.r.s.e, defiant laugh and sprang down the bank like a startled deer.

A few bounds brought him to the river, into which he plunged without a second's hesitation, and dived beneath the surface.

Abel Merriweather and his friends, with ready rifles, waited vengefully for his reappearance; but he came up far below and dived again before a single weapon could cover him.

The whites looked disappointedly at each other.

"I ought to have dealt with him last night," the settler said, self-upbraidingly. "He will join the Indians, and deal murderously with us. G.o.d help my family."

The party, smarting with chagrin over the traitor's escape, returned slowly to the camp, to meet a group of the whitest faces ever seen in the forest.

Helpless in the shadow of an impending evil, Abel Merriweather's family gathered around him, and for the first time since the flight from home the strong man's heart sank within him.

The other members of the party looked about for Little Moccasin, but Kate said that during the pursuit of John Darknight she had fled from the camp without an explanation of her departure.

CHAPTER VI.

THE EXCITING COUNSEL.

James Girty, the white renegade, was known to the various tribes as the White Whirlwind. His brother Simon was the possessor of a few attributes of kindness, but _he_ was dest.i.tute of every redeeming trait. A repulsive face surmounted an ungainly body, but the fiend was possessed of almost supernatural strength.

He was a power in the council, and the British agents stirred the Indians to resist Wayne through him.

We have witnessed his theft of the message which Wolf Cap and young Catlett left in the hollow tree prior to their departure for the a.s.sistance of the Merriweathers and their friends. It is now our purpose to follow him and witness his dealings with the warriors of the then wild northwest.

He crossed the river in a canoe which he drew from a place of concealment on the bank, and, having hid it on the opposite sh.o.r.e, plunged into the forest. He seemed impatient to read the contents of the paper which he had stolen, and as he reached the summit of a wooded knoll a cry of joy burst from his throat.

For some minutes prior to his arrival on the top of the declivity, certain sounds had been wafted to his ears by the night winds. They prepared him for the sight that had burst upon his vision, but still he could not repress the exclamation.

"I wonder if they are all there?" he murmured as he sprang forward and heard the forest resound with his Indian name.

Girty had come suddenly, but not unexpectedly upon an Indian council. A fire that blazed in the ring formed by five hundred painted savages, furnished the light for the forest tableau, and revealed the renegade to the gaze of all.

His quick eye swept the circle of faces as he pa.s.sed through. He saw representatives of every tribe which confronted Wayne; he noticed a fair sprinkling of his own ilk, and a group of whites handsomely attired in British uniforms.

The shouts that greeted his appearance ceased when he sprang through the cordon and halted in the fire-lit arena.

The British officers exchanged significant looks, and Simon Girty moved uneasily in his position. It was evident that the arrival of James at the council was distasteful to him.

The White Whirlwind did not speak until he had mastered the contents of the stolen message in the light of the fire.

"Warriors!" he said, in the tone which had been heard above the roar of more than one forest battle, "I see that your council has been opened. I have been on the trail, and though I sought you when the sun went down, I could not get here sooner. Boldly, like a famished wolf, the Blacksnake marches through the forest; he comes to deprive the red man of his cabin, or his lodge, and to drive his children to lands where a deer track has never been seen. My brethren, to-morrow we march forth to meet this scourge of the northwestern territory. Let us be strong, and punish the venomous Blacksnake, as we punished the big soldier long ago.

Be strong and fear not, for the soldiers of the king will fight among us in the common cause of all the Indians east of the Great River."[B]

[B] The Mississippi.

Murmurs of approbation followed the renegade's harangue.

A chief responded in a like strain, then another and another, until twelve had spoken for war to the knife. All this time the White Whirlwind stood near the council fire, with his ma.s.sive arms folded upon his giant chest, and a look of triumph in his eye. He was in his element.

The absence of such chiefs as Little Turtle, Buckhongahelas, and Blue Jacket, was noticeable; but their places were supplied with savages of lesser note, but equally belligerent.

All at once there arose to address the council an Indian who created a sensation.

He came from the portion of the living ring occupied by Simon Girty, and James gave his brother a quick glance, when he recognized the chief. But Simon appeared to be composed.

"War?" cried the new speaker, who could not have pa.s.sed his twenty-sixth year, "War means death to the Indian and the rule of the American throughout our hunting grounds. Parquatin is not afraid to lead his braves to battle; but where is the use? Who comes here to-night and tells us to bear our bosoms to the rifles of the Blacksnake? Does the White Whirlwind lead his braves in open fight? No! he will tell us to rush upon the Americans, while he trails some white girl through the woods; and make her build the fires in his hut. Parquatin hates the Blacksnake; but he despises the Indian who will listen to the forked words of such a pale fox as the Whirlwind. Parquatin has spoken."

The young chief glanced defiantly around the circle of scarlet faces.

With a face blanched to ghastliness by the first sentence, James Girty heard the speaker through--heard and stood dumfounded for a moment.