Oliver judged that Virginia had avoided this pa.s.sage when they descended, as the darkness in which it must have been plunged at that time would have prevented her from seeing the way, while the danger to her slight canoe from the roots projecting into the water and the sunken logs would have been far greater than that from the rocks of the rapids.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
We must now go back to the moment when Gilbert and Fenton, anxious to obtain some venison for themselves and their hungry companions, were creeping along in the hopes of getting a shot at the deer they had seen from the fort. Having at length, as they supposed, got close enough to the deer to make sure of it, Gilbert was on the point of firing when, hearing Fenton cry out, he looked round and saw his friend, to his dismay, in the hands of several Indians; while others, springing forward, seized his arms before he could even point his gun towards them.
It was useless, they knew, to plead for mercy; the Indians, indeed, threatened them by signs with instant death should they cry out.
They were hurried on at a rapid rate till they reached a ford across the stream, which ran as they supposed by their camp. On and on they went, six only of their captors remaining with them, while the main body returned into the forest.
"They cannot go on for ever," observed Gilbert, "and as they must camp at some time or other, we must then look out for an opportunity to escape. It would be a shame to our manhood were we to allow ourselves to be held captive by six Indians."
"I am ready for any plan you may propose," answered Fenton, "but it will be no easy matter to get free without weapons and with our arms secured behind our backs."
"If they leave us together to-night, I will try what my teeth can do,"
answered Gilbert, "in casting loose the bonds which bind your hands, and you can then render the same good service to me."
"I pray that we may have the chance," remarked Fenton, "though, when our arms are free, how we are to escape from the lynx-eyed natives I know not."
"That must be as opportunity offers," said Gilbert.
The possibility of escaping kept up their spirits, and they moved along with apparent willingness in the direction the Indians wished them to go. They had thus made considerable progress before nightfall, when the Indians halted in a small open s.p.a.ce in the midst of a thick wood, where they lighted a fire and prepared, as it seemed, to pa.s.s the night there.
Much to Gilbert and Fenton"s disappointment, however, the cunning natives placed them apart, one on each side of the fire, though they gave them to eat some of the venison and dried fish which they carried in their wallets.
"We must put a good face on the matter, and not let them suspect our intentions," observed Gilbert. "Let us sing them a merry stave. It will make them fancy we are thoughtless about the future, and they will deem it less necessary to watch us closely. No matter the words, provided the tune is such as to take their fancy."
Thereon they struck up an air which they had often sung on board ship.
The Indians nodded their heads approvingly. Next morning two of the Indians went out hunting, and on their return with a small deer, shared the flesh with their prisoners. After this they travelled on as before, and continued moving to the northward for two more days. Every mile they went they felt that their chance of escape was lessening, still, like brave lads, they did not give way to despair. They tried to learn from the Indians what had become of their party; they understood that they were on a war-path, but would ere long overtake them.
"To-night or never we must make our attempt to escape, Ned," said Gilbert. "I have heard tell of the cruel tricks of these Indians, who only spare the lives of their prisoners at first, that they may carry them to their villages to show them to their squaws, before they put them to death with the most cruel tortures. Such may be the lot they intend for us, and such an ending is not to my taste any more than it is to yours, I am sure."
"That it is not," said Fenton; "and if we can once free our arms and get hold of our weapons, we may, at all events, have a brave tussle for life."
Another night came. Gilbert lay down some way farther off from the fire than usual, and Fenton, pretending to stumble as he pa.s.sed, threw himself down by his side. Their guards, taking no notice of this, allowed them to remain where they were, while they set themselves to cooking part of a deer they had shot during the day. The Indians, who had been ranging two at a time over the country in search of game, were more tired than usual, and after gorging themselves with venison, lay down to sleep, one only remaining on guard to keep up the fire. He, too, after piling on more wood, which, being green, did not blaze up, sat down, and in a short time Gilbert saw him stretch himself at his length, a loud snore announcing that he, also, had gone to sleep.
Gilbert had been gradually getting his head closer and closer to Fenton"s arms; he now in eager haste began to gnaw away at the leathern thongs which bound them. The task was not an easy one, and such as a sailor only, accustomed to all sorts of knots, could have accomplished.
It was done at length, when, lifting up his head, he observed that the Indians were still fast asleep. Fenton on this, slowly rolling round, with his hands at liberty, quickly cast off Gilbert"s bonds. To get hold of their weapons was their next task. Fortunately, their fire-arms and ammunition-belts had been carried by the Indians who lay nearest to them; they marked this while the fire was still blazing, and therefore knew where to find them. While Fenton crawled towards one, Gilbert in the same way approached the other,--now stooping, now moving a few inches, till he felt his hands on his weapon. Fenton eagerly grasping his sword, rose to his feet, and drawing it from its scabbard, pointing Gilbert to do the same, made as if he would kill the sleeping Indians.
Gilbert lifted up his hand to implore him to desist just as his weapon was about to descend, scarcely able to refrain from crying out. Fenton obeyed him. He then signed to him that they must next, if possible, possess themselves of the Indians" bows. The attempt was a daring one, but they so lay that they could be lifted without disturbing their owners. Though they could not carry them off, the fire would render them useless. And now, seeing how soundly the Indians slept, they lifted them one after the other, and drove their ends among the burning embers. The Indians" tomahawks were in their belts, or they would have treated them in the same manner. Any further delay would be dangerous: stooping down so that, should either of the Indians awake, there might be less chance of their being seen, they made their way into the forest.
Should they keep to the south they might meet their approaching foes.
They therefore turned to the east, hoping thus either to make their way to the sea or to reach the village of some friendly tribe. Every instant they expected to be pursued; but as they stopped to listen no sound reached their ears, and they continued their course, guided by the stars, of which they could occasionally catch sight amid the openings in the trees. Should they once get to a distance, they had hopes that the Indians would not discover their trail till the morning, which would give them a long start. After going some distance they gained the open country, across which they could make their way without difficulty.
Their spirits raised with the feeling of regained liberty, and the thoughts of escaping the cruel death or galling captivity which would have been their lot, they sped on.
Daylight at length broke; the rising sun now served them as a guide, and they were pushing on with his rays in their eyes, faint from their exertions, when they saw before them a broad river, on the opposite side of which, with a wood beyond, appeared an Indian village, hitherto unperceived. Descending the hill full in view of the village, they must they knew be seen. Making a virtue of necessity, Gilbert proposed that they should at once boldly enter the village and demand the hospitality of its inhabitants. A canoe lay on the bank: stepping into it, they paddled across to a landing-place, near which already a number of women and children and a few men were collected, wondering who the paleface strangers could be. Gilbert stepped boldly on sh.o.r.e, followed by Fenton.
"We have come as friends," he shouted, "and our wish is to be at peace with you, and with all the children of this country. Conduct us to your chief."
The bold bearing of the two youths and their good looks produced a favourable effect on the gentler portion of the inhabitants, who crowded round them, eager to examine them more nearly; whereat Gilbert and his companion smiled and offered their hands, making every sign they could think of to show their friendly feelings. At this the women looked well pleased, and inquired whether they were hungry.
"Indeed we are, fair dames," answered Fenton, making signs, "and thankful should we be for any food you can bring us."
On this several of the younger women hurried to their wigwams and soon returned with a supply of fish and plantains and several fruits, which they placed on the gra.s.s in a shady spot under a tree before the strangers, who set to with a good will, nodding right and left in acknowledgment to their entertainers. They had just finished when they saw an old Indian, whom they knew by his dress to be a chief, accompanied by several councillors, approaching them. They rose and advanced to meet him, Gilbert, who spoke the Indian language better than his companion, shouting out that they were glad to see so renowned a chief, whose friendship they desired to make. The chief, who it appeared had heard rumours of the fresh arrival of the English in the country, supposing that they were to be followed by a large army, treated them accordingly with much courtesy and respect, and a.s.sured them that everything in his village was at their disposal, and that it would be his pride to entertain them as long as they remained.
Thus far they believed that they were safe. They, however, had fears that the Indians from whom they had escaped might follow on their trail, and come to demand them. They therefore proposed, after resting, to set out again, hoping in course of time to reach the sea. The old chief, however, though he made them welcome, had no intention of letting them depart. When the next day they expressed a wish to continue their journey, he made the excuse that enemies were abroad who might take their lives, and as they were his guests that the blame would rest with him. They had expected before this the arrival of the Indians from whom they had escaped; but as another day pa.s.sed by and they did not appear, they guessed truly that the tribes were at enmity, and that their captors had not dared to pursue them. It was, however, probable that they might be lurking in the neighbourhood, in the hopes of overtaking them should they venture from the village; they therefore, with less unwillingness than they would otherwise have felt, consented to remain, hoping every day that the chief would send an escort with them to the coast, which they supposed was at no great distance. When, however, they made the request to him, he observed that it was many days" journey off, and that the inhabitants were enemies, who would attack his people should he send them. Thus day after day, and week after week went by; and so strictly watched were they that they could find no opportunity of escaping. They were treated all the time, however, by the women as kindly as at first; and the chiefs two daughters gave them to understand, that, if they would promise to remain, they should become their husbands and leaders of the tribe. Neither Gilbert nor Fenton, however, desired this honour, though they were too wise directly to refuse the proposal.
Their captivity being light, they were tolerably happy, and would have been more so had they been able to let their friends know that they were safe. At last, the chief confided to them the cause of their detention: a tribe, between whom and his people an hereditary feud had existed, had of late years always proved victorious, the reason being, as he observed, that they had a white man dwelling among them, who, although he did not himself fight, always directed their counsels; and now, as he had got two white men, he hoped to beat his enemies, especially if they accompanied him to battle, which he had made up his mind that they should do. On receiving this announcement, Gilbert and Fenton consulted together as to how they should act. Gilbert declared he had no wish to fight any Indians who had not molested him. As to that, Fenton thought that there was no great harm, and that it was their duty to help those who had befriended them. "If the Indians go out to fight, and we are compelled to accompany them, we may as well help them to gain the victory, and bring the war sooner to a conclusion," he answered. His reasoning, however, did not satisfy Gilbert.
"Have you considered who the white man possibly is of whom the chief speaks?" he asked. "My idea is, that, if he has been among them for several years, he must be my father; and, if so, I would never consent to fight against his friends, though he himself were not in the battle."
"I should say, on the contrary," said Fenton. "Supposing the white man spoken of is your father, they must have detained him against his will, and therefore, if we can conquer them, we shall be doing him good service by setting him free."
The next day there was a great stir in the village, and warriors from all directions came flocking in, adorned with war-paint and feathers.
The chief made them a long harangue, and informed them that his white sons were going forth with their lightning-makers to a.s.sist them in fighting their foes, and that victory was certain. As Gilbert still hesitated, the chief told him very plainly that go he must or take the consequences; so, Fenton having agreed to help the chief, he resolved to make the best of a bad matter. He and Fenton also intended to try and learn the whereabouts of the white man and to protect him, whoever he was, from their friends.
The whole force which had been marshalled overnight set forth some hours before daylight--not marching like an English army, shoulder to shoulder, but following each other in several lines, each headed by a warrior of renown, like so many snakes stealing along the gra.s.s.
Gilbert and Fenton followed in the march, one behind the other. Thus they proceeded across the country; the lines never interfering with, but always keeping in sight of, each other. At night they encamped round several fires, a strong guard keeping watch over those who slept. They hoped, before the evening of the next day, to reach the territory of their enemies. The following evening, after a short rest in a thick forest, where no fires were lighted which might betray them, they again set forward, expecting ere long to come upon a village, which they hoped to take by surprise and put all the inhabitants to death.
"I will not a.s.sist them in so horrible a butchery," said Gilbert; "but perchance while they are engaged in it we may find an opportunity of escaping and letting the white man know the danger he and his friends are in."
The Indians now advanced more cautiously even than before, taking advantage of all the shelter the country afforded till night came on, when, after going some distance, a sign from the chief was pa.s.sed from line to line. They halted in a thick wood, where they lay down, not a word being uttered, Gilbert and Fenton following their example. As they thus lay in perfect silence, they heard human voices, the laughter of young people, the barking of dogs, and other sounds, coming, evidently, from the village to be attacked. Soon the voices died away as the inhabitants went to rest. The night pa.s.sed by, the Indians watching eagerly for the signal to advance. It was given about an hour before dawn, when the band of warriors crept rapidly forward like tigers about to spring on their prey. Gilbert felt much inclined to fire off his piece to give the doomed inhabitants the alarm, but he feared that he and Fenton would lose their lives; and that the inhabitants, not having time to collect for their defence, would still be put to death. As they approached, the lines separated till the entire village was surrounded, when the silence of night was broken by a succession of fearful war-whoops, and the warriors rushed forward to their work of destruction. At that moment, Gilbert plucking Fenton by the arm, they bounded off, unperceived by the old chief or the rest with him, their only aim being to escape from the scene of slaughter. On they went at a rate which would have made it difficult even for the Indians to overtake them. Day was breaking when they found themselves close to a river; as they glanced for an instant back, they could see the flames ascending from the burning village, round which the work of slaughter was going forward. As they could have done nothing to prevent it, it only incited them to fresh exertions to escape from the power of the savages.
Happily the darkness would prevent their trail being followed, even should their escape be discovered, which it was not likely to be for some time, engaged as the Indians were; while, in the neighbourhood of the village, it would probably be obliterated by the feet of the inhabitants who might have attempted to escape.
By following the course of the river, they hoped to meet with a canoe, of which they would not scruple to take possession. If not, Gilbert proposed that they should build a raft, to which they would rather trust themselves, imperfectly constructed as it might be, than to the tender mercies of the savages.
"For my part I would rather swim for it," cried Fenton.
"We might throw them off the scent by so doing," said Gilbert; "but then we should lose our arms or damage our powder; let us keep that dry, and be able to fight like men for our lives if need be."
"You are right, Gilbert," answered his companion; "you see we have clear ground ahead, we may make play over it."
They bounded on across a wide meadow which skirted the river for some distance, hoping that they might not be discovered till they had gained the shelter of the forest beyond. Never, probably, had they run so fast; the hope of securing their liberty gave wings to their feet, while as yet they felt able to continue their flight for many a mile more.
How many they had accomplished they were unable to calculate, but at length they were compelled to stop for want of breath. Throwing themselves on the ground, they lay listening attentively for any sound which might betoken the approach of pursuers, but except the notes of the song-birds, and the harsher screams of the wild-fowl as they skimmed along the banks, nothing could they hear, and after resting for a few minutes they again, with renewed strength, sped onwards. Still, as they ran, they looked for a canoe, but none could they discover.
"We shall have to build a raft, after all," said Gilbert; "but no matter, if it will float us we will manage to get down to the sea, and then make our way along the sh.o.r.e till we reach the mouth of the James River."
"Let us first get beyond the reach of our late friends," answered Fenton: "it would not be safe to stop as yet, for, depend on it, they will pursue us if they once discover our trail."
Gilbert agreeing with this, they sped on as before. The country before them was again partially open, here and there interspersed with clumps of trees and copses, where the depth of soil allowed their growth.
They had just pa.s.sed through a small wood when they saw before them a tall figure proceeding in the same direction in which they were going, but far more leisurely. "Can it be an Indian?" exclaimed Fenton, placing his hand on Gilbert"s arm for a moment as they stopped to observe him.
"He wears a dress of skins and moca.s.sins; he has a quiver on his back, and bow in his hand," observed Gilbert.
"Yes," replied Fenton, "but no Indian has his head covered with a hat like that, and see, if I mistake not, he has a sword girded to his side, such as an Indian never carries."
"Then let us overtake him," exclaimed Gilbert; "should he prove to be an enemy, we are two to one, we need not fear him, although my hope is that he is a friend."
"On, then," cried Fenton, and, setting off, they quickly gained on the stranger. Hearing their footsteps, he turned and faced them, cautiously, as he did so, fixing an arrow in his bow. The moment he saw them, however, he withdrew it, letting the arrow fall to the ground, and hastened with hurried strides towards them. They now saw that he was indeed a white man, with a flowing long beard, which made him appear older than he really was. He looked from one to the other with an inquiring gaze. Gilbert"s heart bounded within him.