So saying, he departed in a north-easterly direction, towards the clump of willows where the canoe of Eagle's-Wing was concealed. This spot had been agreed upon as the rendezvous; and Ichabod walked rapidly, spurred on by the excitements of the day through which he had already pa.s.sed, and by the hope of meeting all his friends once more in safety. For nearly a quarter of a mile, the shrieks of Guthrie could be heard, mingled with oaths and cries for help; but soon these sounds failed to reach his ears, and he was alone amidst the silence of the forest.

CHAPTER XVI.

"The bow has lost its wonted spring, The arrow falters on the wing, Nor carries ruin from the string, To end their being and our woes."

FRENEAU.

The Tuscarora, after the departure of Ichabod, followed by Guthrie, cautiously crept towards the lodge in which he expected to find Ruth and Singing-Bird. This he was enabled to do in comparative safety, as he moved in a deep shadow; and his only danger consisted in the chance of meeting some straggling Seneca, or someone who might have been selected as a guard for this particular quarter. But, without interruption, he gained the side of the lodge, the entrance to which was upon the west; but he could not reach it without a momentary exposure of his person to the eyes of anyone who might chance to be looking in that direction.

Arriving at this point, he paused, and began imitating the shrill whistle or screech of the tree-toad, which, it seems, had been agreed upon between him and Singing-Bird, as a signal of his presence, in any emergency like the present. To his surprise, he received no answer.

Again he gave the signal, but no answer was returned. A cold shudder ran through that frame of the Tuscarora, as he feared that the prisoners had been removed, and that their enterprise must fail. But he was determined to realize his worst fears by an examination of the interior of this lodge. With this view, he advanced to the extreme point where his person could be obscured in the shadow--a distance of six or eight feet from the entrance. He darted forward, with an agility quickened by the mixture of hope and fear, and found himself within the lodge. It was empty. For a moment, the impa.s.sable nature of the savage was overpowered, and he gazed around him with a look of despair; and a shudder pa.s.sed over him, that shook his strong frame as a leaf is shaken by the wind. But despair could not bring relief, and activity and courage only could retrieve the time that had been lost. Again he pa.s.sed the entrance, and with the same caution retreated to the place where he had left his companion.

"They are gone!" he said.

"Gone?" exclaimed Ralph.

But at the same moment a yell was heard; and they beheld the Indians darting from the fire towards the spot where Ichabod had been confined.

It was now too late; their only hope was in flight. A few moments was left them, ere the Senecas would be upon their track; for the savages would readily comprehend that the escaped prisoner would fly in the direction of the cottage. Ralph and Eagle's-Wing hesitated for a moment; the last hope of relief to the unfortunate prisoners seemed extinguished by this premature discovery of the flight of Ichabod. They darted into the forest, and rapidly ran in the direction of the _rendezvous_ which had been agreed upon with their friend. Some little time elapsed, ere they discovered that they were pursued; but another, and wilder and fiercer yell from the Indians, denoted that some new discovery had taken place, which had excited them still more. Had Ichabod been again captured? That could not well be; as he had but a short time before left them; and they knew that he did not intend to return again to the lodges of the Senecas. A hope sprang to the heart of Ralph, that perhaps Ruth and Singing-Bird had also escaped; and that the Senecas had but just ascertained that these, the most prized of their prisoners, had fled.

But the hope was too faint, too weak, to revive his drooping spirits.

They were now conscious that they were pursued, and that their pursuers could not be, at the most, more than a hundred rods behind them. It was yet half a mile to the _rendezvous_; but they were both inured to exercise; and they ran with an ease and freedom, that promised to keep at least that distance between them and their pursuers. After the cries of the Senecas which had first fallen upon their ears, had died in the silence, occasionally was heard a wild shriek behind them; but at length these entirely ceased. It was a chase of life and death--the silence of the forest was unbroken by any sound save that of its own music, answering to the gentle pressure of the wind; but they knew well that this silence was owing to the caution of their unrelenting enemies.

They arrived, panting at the _rendezvous_. Eagle's-Wing darted into the clump of willows, with the expectation of beholding Ichabod; but he was not there. What was now to be done? Should they remain here, or continue their flight towards the cottage? It was fully a mile distant; and yet, were they to be absent, should the Senecas again attack it, as they would be likely to do, in their present excitement, Barton and the negro would, perhaps, be unable to defend it; and they, too, would fall into the hands of the Senecas, from whom no mercy could now be expected. They must continue their flight; it was the only course. A few moments had been lost in this brief consultation; but the time lost had served to give them new energy for flight.

They proceeded onward with the same rapidity; the shanty was pa.s.sed; and they reached the path leading from the cottage into the valley. They had arrived within a quarter of a mile of the cottage, when they discovered persons moving before them, in the same path in which they were traveling. They relaxed their speed, and advanced with more caution than they had yet observed. But, cautious as they were, their approach was detected by the persons they had observed.

"Speak, or I fire!" shouted the stentorian voice of Ichabod.

"Ichabod!" exclaimed Ralph, who with Eagle's-Wing now rapidly approached; and what was their surprise and joy, as they beheld with their friend, both Ruth and Singing-Bird.

Hearty were the salutations, and joyful the greetings between the re-united friends; but Ralph quickly explained the situation of matters; and the fact that the Senecas must be within a hundred rods of them, at least.

They had yet time to reach the cottage. Their flight was necessarily slow; but the Indians must run at least two rods to their one, to overtake them. This was great odds, under ordinary circ.u.mstances; but, although Singing-Bird was more used to this species of exercise than Ruth, yet even she was fatigued already; but the energy that fear will give, even when the physical powers are over-taxed, supported Ruth for a while. They were in sight of the cottage--it was not more than a furlong distant, when Ruth, who had been partially supported by Ralph, to this point, fell fainting into his arms. Yet sustaining her insensible form, he still advanced rapidly towards the cottage. It was now evident that some of their pursuers were close behind them; a fierce yell communicated to them the fact, that they had been discovered; and a wild scream from twenty throats a few rods more distant denoted that their pursuers was rapidly overtaking them.

"I'll have a crack at that Injin any way," exclaimed Ichabod; as the foremost Seneca came leaping towards them. Excited by the chase, he did not stop to count the odds; but with upraised tomahawk, the Indian rushed towards the flying group. Ichabod fired; and the scream of the Indian denoted that the ball had taken effect. It had, at least, learned him moderation; and he stopped leaning against a tree, awaiting the approach of his companions.

They pa.s.sed the grove--the cottage door was opened, and Barton advanced to meet them. A moment more, and they had pa.s.sed the threshold, and the door was barred. At this instant, the pursuers came rushing into the grove; and fierce and wild were the shrieks of anger, as they saw their escaped prisoners shut from their view.

We will take this opportunity, while the reunited friends are exchanging their congratulations at once more beholding each other in safety, to narrate briefly the history of the escape of Ruth and Singing-Bird.

It has been said that Singing-Bird, by the use of a little duplicity, had been able partially to deceive the Senecas. She had been able to make Panther believe that when they had once reached the country of the Senecas, beyond the lakes, she would yield to his wishes, and become his wife. From the time that Panther had formed this belief, she was much less carefully watched; and had such opportunities to escape, that nothing but her ignorance of the place where Eagle's-Wing was to be found, had prevented her from improving them. When Ruth was brought in as a captive, and she had ascertained the precise condition of matters, she at once resolved to fly, on the first opportunity. The same incident which had formed the escape of Ichabod--the debauch of the Indians--presented the opportunity she wished; and taking a favorable moment, when the larger portion of the Senecas were gathered about the fire, and the few who remained sober, were distributed as guards over a much larger s.p.a.ce than usual, she and Ruth issued from the lodge. They pa.s.sed the precise spot, which, but a few moments later, was occupied by Ralph and the Tuscarora--and entered the forest. At first, excited by the hope of liberty, and the fear of detection, they fled with a speed which their strength and power of endurance would not allow them long to continue; but as they began to feel the fatigue incident upon their efforts, and as they were not able to ascertain that the Senecas had learned their flight, they slackened their speed, and walked with as much rapidity as the nature of the ground would allow. They endeavored to keep a straight north-westerly course; and by doing so; they would naturally reach that point on the river, which had been selected, although unknown to them, by Ichabod and his friends, for a rendezvous.

They did, in fact, reach that particular spot; and were pa.s.sing by it, when Ichabod, who had just before reached it, to his exceeding surprise beheld them, and at once presented himself, calling them by name, to prevent the fear which they would naturally feel, had he suddenly shown himself, when in the darkness, perhaps, they would not have been able to recognize him.

He informed them of the fact that Ralph and Eagle's-Wing were then engaged in efforts for their escape; and he debated for a few moments with himself, whether they should remain at the rendezvous, and wait the coming of their friends, or proceed towards the cottage. But the consideration, that should Ralph and Eagle's-Wing be discovered, or should the Indians ascertain the flight of himself and his companions, their position at the rendezvous would be much less safe, enc.u.mbered as they would be with companions whom it would be necessary to protect, and who could not add to the means of defence, determined him to proceed; and they set off immediately, in the direction of the cottage. The rest of the story has been already told.

When the family and friends found themselves once more united in the cottage, after the first hearty congratulations, they proceeded to observe the dispositions made by the Indians; and to discover, if possible, what might be their plan of operations. The grove by this time was filled with enemies; and a few, even, had advanced upon the lawn between the grove and the cottage; but they were soon recalled to their ideas of safety and self-protection, by the discharge of the rifles of Ichabod and the Tuscarora, not without effect. These more adventurous Senecas, immediately retired.

All necessary and proper precautions were at once taken; but the Indians made no movement that indicated an immediate attack. It was probable, even, that the result of their former attack, might altogether discourage them from a new attempt; but whatever was their intention, they were careful not to give any intimation of it. Within the grove, they were not, in the darkness, visible from the cottage, and it was only after a number of hours had pa.s.sed, without any indications of an attack, that it was thought they would be left in peace for the night.

The proper precautions for safety were taken; and the over worn and over-tasked defenders of the cottage sought a broken repose.

CHAPTER XVII.

"The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope; I have hope to live."

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

The morning sun arose bright and cheerful, with promise of one of those fair autumnal days which has crowned this peculiar season, as the "sweetest, saddest of the year." The inmates of the cottage, too, arose refreshed by a few hours of repose, and with energies strengthened for the labors or dangers of the day. They were once more united. The malice of their enemies had been defeated, and the courage and inspiration which are derived from success, gave promise of ultimate triumph over all their difficulties.

The morning meal pa.s.sed off happily and cheerfully; and Ruth notwithstanding the excitement and fatigue of the preceding evening, possessed all that sweetness and calmness of spirit which had so much charmed Ralph, on the evening of his arrival.

"Really, Captain Weston," she said, "you must have a strange idea of this valley. You have been with us but four days, and we have had in that brief time, an Indian war--sieges and battles--captivities and escapes."

"I must say, Miss Barton, that you have provided me with one entertainment to which I was not invited; but we may hope now, that the "piping days of peace" are come. Your father has some fine trout-fishing yet in reserve for me, and Jenkins wishes to survey his location for a factory and city lots."

This rally at Ichabod was received with considerable merriment, but he was not at all disconcerted.

"You may laugh at that idea, Captin," said he, "but it isn't laughing at a sensible thing that makes it ridiculous. But I _was_ rather provoked, when I proposed that idea to them Senecas in full council, and offered to provide 'em with cloth for pantaloons, coats and jackets, to see the perva.r.s.e creturs insist upon sticking to their Injin, heathenish sort of garments. But, after all, it _is_ an innovation on their old habits, and I shall have to begin by fitting up Eagle's-Wing with Christian clothes, and send him out as a missionary on that business.

"No good for Injin to wear pale-face clothes," said the Tuscarora, with contempt. "How Injin look dressed like white man?"

"There you go!" exclaimed Ichabod. "Seneca or Tuscarora, it don't make any difference. If I was going to convart the Injins, the first step I should take, would be to send out a cargo of tailors; for I _do_ believe that if you could only get them to put on decent clothes, they'd be willing to take up a decent religion."

"That's a new idea, certainly," said Ruth; "but I should pity the unfortunate workmen. They would scarcely make a living at the business."

"The idea is not unphilosophical," said Ralph, laughing. "Ideas are very much like clothes. They are just as easily put off or on; and to conquer the prejudices of the Indians in one respect, would be to conquer them in another. It is a pity, Ichabod, that you had not lived to be a coadjutor with Elliot. The result of his labors might have been vastly different."

"Well," replied Ichabod, "I never did know a new idea that wasn't laughed at. I suppose you want to have your fun at me, but I'll live to have mine at you, yet."

While the family were at breakfast, Sambo had been sent out to overlook the surrounding country for any signs of Indians. He now came running in to say that a "whole army of Injins was coming, and no mistake."

At this alarm, the party at once betook themselves to their defences; and from the lookouts they endeavored to get a sight of the approaching enemy.

"The lying n.i.g.g.e.r!" exclaimed Ichabod. "Only _one_ Injin and without we'pons at that."

"He is evidently coming with a message of some sort or other," said Barton. "Suppose you go, Ralph, and hear what he has to say."

Ralph went out towards the grove where the Indian was waiting for him.

As he approached the Seneca, the latter took from his belt a letter and delivered it to him.

"Pale-face prisoners send letter to talk," said the Seneca, as he surveyed the doc.u.ment with a sort of superst.i.tious fear. "Hear him talk, eh?"

"Perhaps so," answered Ralph. "I will give you an answer soon, if it should need one," and he again entered the cottage, while the Indian threw himself lazily upon the ground.