Whilst the mother was seated at her door, playing with little Nelly, she raised her eyes and saw a tall, stately Indian standing before her at a respectful distance. As soon as her eyes rested upon the Indian, she recognized him as being one of the band that stole her child. As Nelly saw him she screamed and flew back into the house. The sudden scream seemed to freeze her mother's blood, and she sat as immovable as a statue. The Indian stood perfectly quiet, without coming nearer. When she had recovered, he said he would not harm her nor her child; but she must tell him who brought back her child. She told him she found the child in the edge of the woods the next morning, and supposed that he had returned it. He then told her he had not, and she must find out who it was and let him know when he came around again. The mother watched the Indian until he disappeared in the forest, and then stealing away slyly in the opposite direction, and by taking a circuitous route, soon reached Mayall's cottage, and told Mayall that one of the same Indians that had stolen her Nelly had been at her house, trying to find out who brought her back. "I told him where I found her, and thought he had got tired of her and brought her back." Mayall then told her to go into his cottage and remain there with his wife and children until he returned.

Taking good care to keep the doors securely bolted, and the axe in the house to use if they were molested, Mayall then took down his gun, prepared some cartridges, put on his belt, with his tomahawk and knife depending from it, and hanging by his side, and left the cottage.

Night came, but the hunter did not return. There was no moon, but the stars shone forth in tranquil loveliness as the night wore away. About midnight they heard a noise outside and near the cottage, and they crept cautiously to the window, which was nearly as high as one's head, but not of sufficient size to admit a common sized man, and looked cautiously out, and Mayall's cow was in his garden. Mrs. Mayall then told her that the Indian was near, and she must not show her head at the window, or she might be taken for her husband. The minutes now seemed to drag into hours, when that hungry cow was walking over the choice melons and devouring them, and in a few moments more she was eating and stamping down the corn which they had cultivated with care for their own domestic use. But time wore away, and all was still, excepting the cow in the garden. The sharp report of a gun was heard, and loud groans followed, which seemed to shake everything within like a clap of midnight thunder, and my brain seemed to reel, for deeds were going on I dare not look upon.

Soon after, some one, whom I took to be Mayall, for I could see by the light of the stars he had a gun in his hand, came and drove his cow out of the garden. Mrs. Mayall then told me her husband would be back in the course of an hour, and they would then be out of all danger; that her husband was then near the house. Our fears seemed to vanish, and we commenced talking and antic.i.p.ating what had happened. Mrs. Mayall said the report was from her husband's gun; that she knew the sound from all other guns, and that, when in the hands of her husband, was sure death against prowlers of the night, whether they walked on two feet or four.

She then said she knew their game. The Indian had let the cow into the garden, expecting that her husband would come out, whilst he lay secreted to kill him. She said Mayall never slept in his house when he knew there were Indians watching for him, but always kept near enough to protect his house and family. Whilst we were antic.i.p.ating what had been done in the dark, Mayall suddenly knocked three times on the door, then paused and struck one. Mrs. Mayall, without farther hesitation, sprang to the door and opened it. I said, "How dare you open that door?" She replied that his knock was different from all other men; she said she could tell by the day of the week, and no one knew the secret but herself.

Mayall entered the house without saying a word, bolted the door after him, laid down his gun, knife and tomahawk, and after telling me that I could go home in the morning if I chose, there would be no danger, he then laid down on his bed of straw, and was sound asleep in less than five minutes; and when I left his cottage in the morning he was still asleep. I took my little Nelly and returned to my cabin. Many strange thoughts pa.s.sed through my troubled brain. Occasionally I seemed to hear the sharp report of a rifle; and then how came the blood on that tomahawk? The Indian never appeared again, nor could there be any trace of him found.

Roam on the high mountain's crest, fearless ranger, The Indian no more shall dye his coa.r.s.e blanket In citizens' gore; he has left, aye, forever, the vales Where you met him, and fought for my Nelly, So gifted, so fair and so young.

CHAPTER IV.

The Oneida Indians came annually from the Valley of the Mohawk and the Oneida reservation to the Valley of the Susquehanna, by their path down the Valley of Adaca, to lay in their store of dried venison for the long and dreary winters of this lat.i.tude, accompanied by their wives and daughters, who prepared the meat taken in the hunt, dried and smoked it, and put it in deerskin sacks ready to be conveyed to their winter quarters. They always encamped at their place of rest at the outlet of the Adaca Creek into the Susquehanna River, where they had planted an orchard to supply them with apples during the fall hunt.

Mayall lived near their path where they usually stopped to make inquiries and gain such information as was necessary to guide them where deer were most numerous. They usually gave Mayall an invitation to join the fall hunt, which was his favorite amus.e.m.e.nt at that season of the year, being an expert in the game of hunting. The Indians gave Mayall his full share of the venison and furs taken. They ranged the hills and valleys in every direction from their camp at the place of rest, and returned at night with their venison and furs, which they handed over to their squaws to be dressed and dried, excepting such parts as would not bear transportation, which were taken to supply the daily food of the camp. A number of large gray wolves had been heard nightly from their camp howling on the mountain south of the Susquehanna, which caused the deer to leave the South Mountain and cross over to the hills on the north side.

On the morning following one of their howling frolics, one of the hunters shot and wounded a deer on the south side of the river. In their endeavors to capture it they drove it up the mountain side. There were a number of hunters joined in the chase, but as the hill grow steep and rocky they all fell back and returned to camp but Mayall and two Indians, who had now reached the high range of hills, where they made a temporary halt to view the ample plains and beauteous tracts below. On the one hand they surveyed the famous Susquehanna, rolling in silent dignity and marking its course with inconceivable grandeur, while in the distance the hills lifted their venerable brows.

Here they had paused a few moments to view the beauties of Nature as it came fresh from the hand of Omnipotence. The sunlight was streaming from the western skies, kissing each mountain top, clad with crimson and gold, like the morning light that dances on the heaven-kissed hills of Paradise. Mayall viewed the scene with unspeakable delight, as he thought how rich he was in everything that made life desirable to him.

From this lofty eminence over the valley forest he could mark the smoke curling from his quiet home, where his lovely companion rested. Youth, beauty, wealth, love, all seemed to be his. All his past life seemed to pa.s.s in grand review. The sun sank in silence toward the horizon, and called to his mind that the chase was leading them too far from camp to return before dark.

Before they had time to decide which course to pursue they heard the deer returning with a gang of wolves close in pursuit, made ravenous by the scent of the warm blood gushing from the deer's sides at every bound, in consequence of his wonderful springs to escape the wolves, which were so near that one miss-jump would have been fatal, as a dozen wolves were ready to tear his flesh from his bones.

It now became hurrying times. Mayall looked round to find a safe retreat. The two Indians that had ascended the hill with him were wild with affright, and beat a hasty retreat. The deer became exhausted in its exertions to escape, and fell to the ground within two rods of the place where Mayall stood, and three of the wolves rushed upon him with open jaws, to devour him. Mayall was just the man for that place; for as quick as a flash of electricity all his presence of mind returned. The contents of his gun, with his deadly aim, brought down the first or foremost to the ground. He dropped his gun and met the second with his tomahawk, which he dispatched at a blow. The third had then reached him.

He aimed a blow at his head, his weapon glanced, and the wolfs mouth came in contact with his body and fastened his teeth in his hunting-frock. At that instant Mayall gave him a thrust with his long hunting-knife, which he had drawn from his belt with his left hand. The knife entered between the wolf's ribs and split his heart, and the wolf fell back and expired with a mournful howl. Mayall was now clear from the wolves. The remainder of the drove was devouring the deer with such haste, he saw there would be no escape unless it was effected without delay. He instantly placed his tomahawk in his belt and sheathed his knife, then fastening his gun to his belt by means of a spring, commenced climbing the first favorable tree he reached.

He had barely time to climb ten feet from the ground before the wolves made a rush for the tree, and commenced jumping at him, mingled with a howl of rage and disappointment. Mayall continued to climb until he reached a safe and convenient place for loading his gun. He soon loaded and brought down the fourth wolf, and then gave a shout of triumph to inform the Indians that he had reached a place of safety. The Indians shouted back from the tree-tops far down the mountain, with joy that echoed through every glen and ascended above the mountain-top; for hearing the howling and growling of the wolves after Mayall's first fire, they supposed the wolves were devouring Mayall and would soon be upon their track, and had taken the precaution to reach a place of safety in time. Mayall now continued to load his gun and fire upon the wolves with success, until the thinned band made their retreat up the mountain. He then descended from his lofty perch, made his retreat in the same direction the Indians had, down the mountain.

Mayall soon reached the place where the Indians had fled for safety, and found them perched in a tree like two owls on their nightly roost. As soon as the Indians saw Mayall they quickly descended, and the three took up their line of march for their camp with the double-quick. The curtains of night were fondly drooping upon the hill-tops, and the stars were shooting forth in glory one by one from Heaven's blue concave as the three hunters reached the Indian encampment.

The Indians shouted with joy at their return, after hearing the firing of guns and the fierce howling of wolves. They had been much alarmed for their safety. The squaws and Indians flocked round Mayall to hear the Indians relate the story of their adventure and act over the frightful scene with gun, tomahawk and knife, to show the amount of skill used by Mayall in handling the deadly weapons of war. Their war-chief, being present, addressed his Indians in the following manner: "Your pale-faced chief, whom I shall this night adopt by the name of Wolf-hunter, must ever be revered by our tribesmen for his deeds of skill and daring. He has driven our enemies from our hunting-ground. Yon skulking thieves that destroyed our game, and tore the white squaw's papoose from her arms, and bore it over the high hills to where the Susquehanna winds her course among the alder groves, there the pale chief left them in their leafy bed of gore, and returned the white papoose to the embrace of her mother. The Indians who returned to avenge their fallen tribesmen have been slain by him, and their bones will ever rest on our hunting-ground, unmolested either by sire or son. He has met this day in deadly combat the gray wolves of the forest that destroyed our venison. They spared neither the deer nor its fawn; and to-night they sleep in death, high on the bleak mountain-side. The G.o.d of battle helps him in every strife, and no arm has yet been found able to cope with his. And we should be proud of such a friend to lead the hunt and move the whirlwind of the battle on."

Mayall related the story of his adventure with the wolves to Mr. Powel, one of the first settlers of the Adaca Valley, and at the same time informed him that Molly Brant, then an Indian maiden of beautiful form and suavity of manners, was with the Indians at their camp, and was after that the wife of Sir William Johnson. He said her manners were as gentle as the south wind that rocked the tree-tops in autumn.

CHAPTER V.

The place of rest where the red man unstrung his bow and slept two hundred years ago, beneath the shades of an overgrown forest, where the grandsires of that much-abused race planted their orchard, which bore the gems of bright abundance in autumn's golden days to regale their taste and satisfy their appet.i.tes, whilst they rested from the chase, this Garden of Eden so much famed in Indian story, the red man's resting-place, where he gathered in his stock of furs for his winter clothing and dried his venison to sustain his own life and the life of his family during the cold stormy winters of this lat.i.tude, around whose fertile plain the towering hills stand as sentinels to guard the plain below from furious winds and drifting storms, was highly esteemed by the Indian tribes for the abundance of fish that inhabited the waters of the Susquehanna and its tributaries.

There has long been a story of revolutionary days connected with this renowned place. Sir William Johnson, a Major-General in the British army, came to Johnstown and took up his residence in that place. Whilst there he had some business to transact with the Indians, who frequently came to that place to trade. He there became acquainted with a young squaw, Holly Brant, the daughter of the famous war-chief of the Mohawk Indians, and was so much enamored with her virtue, wit and beauty, that he asked the chief's consent to give him the hand of his daughter in marriage. After some hesitation the chief consented, and his daughter, the Forest Queen, was sent for. She came dressed in simple Indian costume, ornamented with wampum, wearing fawn-skin moccasins embroidered with the quills of the porcupine; her long flowing dress was decked with roses. Sir William had been a guest at the Royal Court of England, where fair women flashed with diamonds and brave men whirled in the giddy dance, but none seemed to him to possess that beauty and grace which appeared in this young Forest Queen. In short, he admired her more than he did all the fair daughters of Eastern climes.

Sir William was so much enamored with her artless grace that they were soon united in marriage, and he took her to his mansion to grace its stately halls as she had the cabin of the Indian chief, her father, who was considered by the Indians equal in rank to Sir William Johnson.

Beauty's spell flowed from her eyes, A radiant splendor wreathed her hair, And fondly sweet perfection lingered there, From which all human virtues gently flow.

In due time the chief came to visit Sir William and his daughter, and was invited by them to tarry with them for a time. The invitation was accepted by the chief. After viewing the stately halls hung with maps, pictures and mirrors, he retired to rest. Not being accustomed to sleep on beds of down, fenced in with lofty ceiling, his sleep was disturbed with dreams. He dreamed of palaces beyond the sea, with high towering domes and gilded halls, and warriors with golden epaulettes and flashing sabres, and plumes that nodded as they marched to battle. All these grand views formed within his breast a desire for military glory.

Finally he awoke with the first rays of the morning, with a pleasing dream impressed upon his memory, and when he arose he related the dream to Sir William and his wife. He said he had dreamed that Sir William gave him his uniform, covered with gold lace of costly texture, with his sword, epaulettes, pistols, and hat covered with plumes. Sir William, not being unacquainted with the Indian custom, seemed at a loss what answer to give the chief. His wife, seeing his embarra.s.sment, took him by the hand and led him to the hall and informed him that he had better fulfill the dream of her father by giving him his war equipage, which would give him an opportunity to dream in return.

"What can I dream," said the Major-General, "to compensate me for that splendid war equipage?"

His wife, with a sly look, replied, "Leave that to me;[1] but give him the uniform and other equipage."

[Footnote 1: The author of the History of Schoharie County and Border Wars of New York, states that the lands dreamed for by Sir William Johnson, with the famous Indian chief Hendrix, of the Mohawk tribe, were situated in the Valley of the Mohawk, which statement is denied by the first settlers of the Indian's place of rest in the Valley of the Susquehanna, which lands were purchased of the heirs of Sir William Johnson, who used to relate the story of the dream as they learned it of their mother, whose maiden name was Molly Brant, and had been at the Indian place of rest with the Indians in their fall hunt when an Indian maiden.]

The Major-General then brought forward his beautiful uniform and equipments, that had been manufactured with care in England to adorn men of rank and high renown in the British service, and worn with honors.

The Indian chief looked with pride upon the dazzling prize, so easily won from a British officer. He then took off his Indian dress and put on the General's uniform, which he said was a very good fit for a chief to wear in time of peace, but not well calculated for the battle fray. He wore his uniform through the day while a guest at the house of Sir William Johnson. When night came he took off his uniform and folded it carefully and packed it in a suitable form to transport it to his own village, situated many miles away in the forest. After the chief had retired to rest for the night Mrs. Johnson informed the General he must dream that the chief, her father, gave him one thousand acres of land situated on each side of the Susquehanna, at their place of rest, where they could remove after the war had ended and live in tranquil loveliness upon the banks of the gently flowing Susquehanna.

There on the runway long and low, Coursed the buck, the fawn and doe; The finny tribes in lengthened shoals Swarm through all the crystal stream; There in the summer sunshine blaze Will rise green rows of twinkling maze, Where the sweet waters of the mountain rill Will ever turn your grinding mill.

The glowing account of so lovely a valley, given by Sir William's wife, caused him to dream that the Indian chief gave him one thousand acres of land at the Indian's place of rest. The next morning when the Indian chief and Sir William met, he related his dream. The Indian chief sat in silent meditation for a few moments, and then replied that if he had actually dreamed the dream that he had related he must have the one thousand acres of land, but one thing was certain, he would never dream with him again whilst he had that young fox at his elbow.

The one thousand acres of land were deeded to Sir William, according to the tenor of his dream, and the land was sold to actual settlers by the heirs and descendants of Sir William Johnson, years after the storm of the Revolution had pa.s.sed away, and the grant was confirmed in the settlement of peace with the government of Great Britain.

CHAPTER VI.

After the storm of the Revolution had subsided, the Indian's bow was unstrung, the tomahawk and scalping-knife were laid idly by, and the Angel of Peace had spread her guardian wing over the waters of the Susquehanna and her tributaries. The hardy sons of New England came flocking to this section of country, and many of them found a home for their families in the lovely Valley of the Otego. Here they purchased lauds and commenced cutting down and clearing away the forest along the valley, and erecting rude houses to shelter their wives and children, and mills to grind their grain.

In a few short years the smoke from their morning fires curled above the forest trees for more than twenty miles along the winding banks of the crystal waters of the Otego, and began to present a scene of activity.

School-houses were erected by the industry of the settlers along the valley at the most convenient places, and these served a double purpose--for schools through the week and meeting on the Sabbath.

Orchards soon began to blossom in spring, and fields of grain to wave in summer, both yielding the gems of bright abundance in autumn. Then the reapers, robust and ruddy with health, thrust in the willing sickle, whilst the young maidens with glowing cheeks gathered up the gavels and bound them in sheaves and raked the new-mown hay. Health, beauty and prosperity spread their glory over the lovely scene. The axeman's blows, that lowered the forest and frightened away the game, were displeasing to Mayall, and all his thoughts were now turned on finding a new home.

The thought of living in a country where the primeval forest was fast disappearing, the thick boughs that had sheltered him from the storms and the green plumes that had waved over his head in summer to protect him from the scorching rays of the sun in his daily rambles, for so many years, where the wild game had lived and fattened for his table--all seemed like departing friends.

Mayall could endure the scene no longer, and started in quest of a new home. He traversed the country to the north in every direction, with his gun in his hand and his hunting-knife and tomahawk in his belt.

Thus equipped he wandered over a vast section of country, winding around lakes and crossing streams, at times climbing the highest hills, there from some lofty tree-top taking a view of the surrounding country, to see if the smoke from the cottage of some adventurous settler or that of the Indian wigwam dimmed the air. He was seeking a lone retreat where human footsteps seldom fall. At length he learned from an Indian of the Oneida tribe that he would find that secluded and happy retreat he was searching for on the head-waters of East Canada Creek, where the sparkling waters swarmed with speckled trout, where the buck and the doe, with her fawn, coursed on their runway undisturbed, where beautiful little lakes nestled among the hills, and abounded with fish and water fowls, where the green forest in summer reflected its image upon the waters so smooth and fair, and stamped upon its bosom creation's image, the sun and clouds reflected in their waters by day and the moon and stars by night, with the beautiful arch of heaven's high concave.

Whilst conversing with the Indian, his daughter came from his cabin near by and informed her father that his morning meal was ready, and invited Mayall to come with her father to breakfast. Mayall was struck with the youthful simplicity and beauty of the Indian maiden. After they had enjoyed their delicious meal of venison together, and smoked the long pipe of peace, Mayall informed the Indian that he had a son equal in height, years, activity and beauty with the Indian chief's daughter, and if the chief had no objection he would take them both with him to the beautiful and romantic country he had so graphically described, after their marriage, and the Indian chief could come to visit her every fall and enjoy the Indian summer in hunting deer and procuring furs for winter.

The Indian replied that if his daughter was pleased with Wolf-hunter's son, and he was as good a hunter as his father, he would consent. The Indians had adopted Mayall into the tribe, by the name of Wolf-hunter, which made Mayall's son equal in rank with the daughter of the Indian chief.

Mayall now parted with the chief and his family in friendship, and left the proposed marriage to abide future events. Mayall directed his steps towards East Canada Creek, where he arrived in safety, and commenced his journey up the valley which had been scooped out by the stream since the morning of creation. He soon pa.s.sed beyond the noisy bustle of civilization in the Valley of the Mohawk River, and launched into a solitude which appeared to him as a divine retreat, and was better fitted for a wild hunter than a civilized man.

Mayall carefully examined the forest along the banks of the stream and its branches, from its outlet into the Mohawk to its source far away among the forest hills. He found many traces of beaver and other furred animals, and plenty of deer.