Oonomoo the Huron by Edward Sylvester Ellis (digital e reader .txt) 📖
- Author: Edward Sylvester Ellis
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"How-de-do, brudder?" asked the foremost, extending his hand. The soldier exchanged similar greetings with the others, when at a signal the five seated themselves upon the ground, and he followed suit. A pipe, the "calumet of peace," was produced and passed from mouth to mouth, each one smoking slowly and solemnly a few whiffs.
This tedious ceremony occupied fully a half-hour, during which it was nearly impossible for the young Lieutenant to conceal his impatience. It seemed to him nothing but a sheer waste of time, and he wondered how Oonomoo could take it so composedly. At length the last smoker had taken what he evidently believed the proper number of whiffs, and they arose and embarked again in their canoes.
In the boat, which really belonged to the Huron, were seated himself, Lieutenant Canfield, and Heigon, who insisted upon using the paddle himself. For a moment they glided along under the shadow of the wooded bank, and then, coming out on the clear, moonlit surface of the river, they shot downstream like swallows upon the wing.
It was not quite ten miles to the Shawnee town, and, as it was now in the neighborhood of midnight, their destination would be easily reached in time.
All went well for some four or five miles, when an exclamation from the canoe in advance attracted the attention of Oonomoo and the soldier.
"What is it?" inquired the latter.
"Ugh! nudder canoe comin'--Shawnees."
Such proved to be the case. A large war-canoe, containing over a score of painted warriors, was coming up the river, nearly in the center of the stream, while the Miamis were nearer the right bank. When nearly opposite each other, the war-canoe paused while that which contained the four Miamis went over to it, somewhat after the manner that two friendly ships come to anchor in the midst of the ocean, and exchange congratulations and news.
During the interview, Heigon prudently kept at a safe distance, but from the gesticulations and words of the Shawnees it was evident they were making inquiries in regard to the inmates of his boat. The replies proved satisfactory, for a moment later, the canoes separated, and each party proceeded on his way. Little did the Shawnees dream that the very foe for whom they were searching--he whose scalp was worth that of a hundred warriors, whose death they would have nearly given their own life to secure--little did they dream, we say, that this very man was within a few rods of them--so close that he recognized the features of every one of their number!
Several miles further, and Oonomoo spoke to Heigon. They were now in the vicinity of the Shawnee village, and he wished to land. Heigon instantly turned the prow of his canoe toward shore, and the others, understanding the cause, followed. A moment later, Lieutenant Canfield and the Huron stood upon _terra firma_. They were compelled again to shake hands all around with their curiously-made friends, when they separated--the latter to go down the river as brothers to the warlike Shawnees, and the former to go to the same destination as their deadly enemies!
[1] Meaning he became sick from some cause or other.
CHAPTER VII.
THE PLAN FOR THE RESCUE.
Oft did he stoop a listening ear,
Sweep round an anxious eye,
No bark or ax-blow could he hear,
No human trace descry.
His sinuous path, by blazes, wound
Among trunks grouped in myriads round;
Through naked boughs, between
Whose tangled architecture fraught
With many a shape grotesquely wrought,
The hemlock's spire was seen.--A. B. STREET.
By this time, daylight was at hand. A thin mist, rising from the river, was passing off through the woods; for the half-hour preceding the appearance of the sun, the darkness was more palpable than it had been at any time through the night. The air, too, had a disagreeable chilliness in it, which, however little it affected the Huron, made the soldier, for the time being, exceedingly uncomfortable and impatient for the full light of day.
The Shawnee village was about a mile distant, on the same bank of the stream with that upon which our friends found themselves. As there was not the least probability of Hans Vanderbum being astir for several hours yet, they proceeded at a moderate walk through the wood. One of the peculiar effects of this chilly morning air was to keep Lieutenant Canfield constantly gaping; his movements were so languid and his mind listless even to antipathy for conversation. He maintained his place in silence beside Oonomoo. The Indian was as watchful and keen as ever.
As the young Lieutenant was yawning, and gazing around listlessly, he caught a glimpse of some body, as it threw itself prostrate behind a clump of bushes. He looked at the Huron and was startled to observe upon his countenance no indication of having noticed this singular occurrence.
"Oonomoo," he whispered, placing his hand upon his arm, "there's a person behind the bush, and we are in danger. I saw him this very minute."
"Me see'd 'em," said the Indian, walking straight toward the spot where he was concealed.
This was too much for the young man. When he reflected that, in all probability a rifle-barrel was leveled through those bushes, ready to do its deadly work, he was not ashamed to halt and allow the Huron to proceed alone. But, no fear seemed to enter the head of the Indian. He strode straight forward, as if he had discovered something which he was about to pick, and, reaching the bushes, he parted and stepped among them. The astonished soldier saw him stoop and lift some dark object, and then throw it down upon the ground again.
Lieutenant Canfield now came forward. Great was his amazement to recognize, in this dark object, the negro, Cato! He lay upon his face, as lax and motionless as a piece of inanimate matter.
"What is the matter with him?" asked the soldier. "Is he dead?"
"Scart near to def'--make b'lieve dead."
Such undoubtedly was the case. The negro, frightened at the appearance of two strangers, the foremost of whom he recognized as an Indian, had prostrated himself behind the bushes and feigned death in the hope that they would pass him by unnoticed. The Lieutenant, now that they were so close to the Shawnees, where so much caution and skill were required, felt provoked to see the negro, and had little patience with his fooleries.
"Get up, Cato," said he, rolling him over with his foot. "You are not hurt, and we don't want to see any of your nonsense."
One of the negro's eyes partially opened, and then he commenced yawning, stretching and shoving his feet over the leaves, as though he was just awaking.
"Hebens, golly! but dis nigger is sleepy," said he. "Hello! dat you, Oonomoo? And bress my soul, if dar ain't Massa Canfield," he added, rising to his feet.
"How came you here?" asked Canfield.
"Come here my pussonal self--walked and runn'd most ob de way."
"But, we sent you to the settlement. Why did you not go?"
"Bress your soul, Massa Canfield, I'll bet dar's ten fousand million Injines in de wood, atween us and de settlement. I tried to butt my way trough dem, but dar was a few too many, and I had to gub it up."
"How came you to wander so far out of your way as to get here?"
"Dunno; t'ought I'd take a near cut home, and s'pose I got here widout knowing anyt'ing about it.".
"Well, Oonomoo, what's to be done with him?"
"Take him 'long--kill him if don't do what want to."
"You understand, Cato? We don't want you with us, but, there seems no help for it now; so we shall have to take you. You must follow in our steps, and in no case make any outcry."
The negro promised obedience, and, taking his position behind, they continued their journey, the Huron leading the way. He proceeded some distance until he reached a dense portion of the wood, when he halted and turned around.
"Plenty time--sleep some."
These were pleasant words to the Lieutenant, who, in spite of his impatience, felt the need of sleep and rest before proceeding further. All stretched themselves upon the ground, where, in a few minutes, they were wrapped in slumber. The negro, Cato, lay some distance from the other two, and was the first to awake. Carefully raising his head and discovering that the dreaded Huron was still unconscious, he silently arose to his feet, and, retreating some distance with great care and caution, he suddenly turned and ran at the top of his speed. His motive for so doing will soon appear.
While our two friends are thus preparing themselves for the perilous duty before them, we will return to our old acquaintance, Hans Vanderbum, and his fair charge, in whom the reader, doubtless, feels a lively interest.
* * * * * *
It will be remembered that Miss Prescott was consigned to the care of the amiable Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock, wife of Hans Vanderbum. The reasons for this were several. In the first place, the Shawnees were actuated in a small degree by their desire to lessen the sufferings of their captive. This squaw had learned enough of the English language from her husband to hold almost an intelligible conversation in it; and; as quite an acquaintance had already been established between him and the maiden, she would certainly feel more at home in their company than among the others, who could not speak a word of her tongue. What might be done with Miss Prescott in case she remained among the Shawnees for several years, of course it would be impossible to say; but it was certain they meditated no violence for the present, only wishing to hold her simply as a prisoner. Was there danger of her escape they would not have hesitated to kill her, it being considered one of the greatest reproaches that can be cast in a Shawnee face to accuse him of having lost a prisoner.
Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock was too thoroughly loyal for her to be suspected of any disposition to aid the prisoner in escape; and whatever might be the wishes of Hans Vanderbum, he was too stupid and lazy to be taken into account.
Miss Prescott, accordingly, was installed in their lodge, where the first day was passed without anything of note occurring, save the discovery, on her part, of the total hopelessness of escape, without the assistance of friends. There was but one entrance to the lodge, of barely sufficient width to afford the passage of Hans Vanderbum's body, and the sides of the wigwam were too strong and firm for her to think either of
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