CHAPTER XII.

Late at night the party encamped within something like a mile of Piqua; and by daylight a warrior was despatched to convey intelligence of their approach, their prisoners, and the sad disaster they had experienced on their journey. In the course of an hour the messenger returned, bringing with him a vast number of savages of both sexes and all ages, who immediately set up the most horrid yells, danced around Younker and Algernon like madmen, not unfrequently beating and kicking them unmercifully. They then departed for the town, taking the prisoners with them, where their fate was to be decided by the council.[12] But ere sentence should be pronounced, it was the unanimous decision of the savages, that they should have some amusement, by forcing the prisoners to run the gauntlet. This, to the women and children, as well as the warriors themselves, was a most delightful sport, and they at once made the welkin ring with yells of joy.

"It's a hard task we've got to undergo now, Algernon," said Younker, in a low voice; "and God send it may be my last; for I'd much rayther die this way, nor at the stake. I don't at all calculate on escaping—but something tells me you will—and ef you do—"

Here the old man was interrupted by Girty, who forced himself between the two and separated them. Younker being the first selected to run the gauntlet, was immediately unbound, and stripped to the skin,[13] preparatory to the race. The assemblage now formed themselves into two lines, facing each other, only a few feet apart, and extending the distance of a hundred yards, terminating near the council-house, which stood in the center of the village. Through these lines, the old man was informed by Girty, he must run; while the savages on either side, armed with clubs, were at liberty to inflict as many blows upon him as they could in passing; and therefore it would stand him in hand to reach the other extremity as soon as possible.

"I'm an old man, Simon Girty," said Younker, in reply, "and can't run as I once could—so you needn't reckon on my gitting through alive."

"But, by ——! you must get through alive, or else not at all; for we can't spare you quite so soon, as we want you to try the pleasures of the stake," answered the renegade, with a laugh.

"God's will be done—not yourn nor mine!" rejoined Younker, solemnly. "But tell me, Simon Girty, as the only favor I'll ever ask o' ye—war my wife and Ella rescued?"

"Why," said Girty, "if it will do you any good to know it, I will tell you they were; but I will add, for your particular benefit, that they will again be in my power; for I will excite every tribe of the Six Nations to the war path; and then, woe to the pioneers of Kentucky!—for desolation, rapine and blood shall mark our trail, until the race become extinct. I have sworn, and will fulfill it. But come—all is ready."

"For the first o' your information, I thank you," returned Younker; "for the last on't, I'll only say, thar's a power above ye. I'm ready—lead on!"

Girty now conducted the old man to the lines; and having cautioned the savages, in a loud voice, to beware of taking his life, gave the signal for him to start. Instantly Younker darted forward, and with such speed, that the nearest Indians neglected to strike until he had passed them, by which means he gained some six or eight paces without receiving a blow; but now they fell hard and fast upon him, accompanied with screams and yells of the most diabolical nature; and ere he had gone thirty yards, he began to stagger, when a heavy stroke on the head laid him senseless on the earth. In a moment the renegade, who had kept him company outside, burst through the lines, just in time to ward off the blow of a powerful warrior, aimed at the skull of Younker, which, without doubt, would have been fatal.

"Fool!" cried Girty, fiercely, to the Indian. "Did I not tell you his life must be spared for the stake?"

The savage drew himself up with dignity, and walked away without reply; while the renegade, examining the bruises of the fallen man for a moment or two, ordered him to be taken to the council-house, and, if possible, restored to consciousness. He then returned to Algernon, who had been left standing a sad spectator of the whole proceedings, and said, in a gruff voice:

"Now, by ——! young man, it's your turn; and let me tell you, it will stand you in hand to do your best. Come, let us see what sort of a figure you will cut."

As he concluded, he severed the thongs around the hands of our hero, and unceremoniously began to strip him, in which he was aided by a couple of old squaws.

The features of Algernon were pale, but composed; and he allowed himself to be handled as one who felt an escape from his doom to be impossible, and who had nerved himself to undergo it with as much stoicism as he could command. As his vestments were rent from his body, the wound in his side was discovered to be nearly healed; and would have been entirely so, probably, but for the irritation occasioned it of late by his long marches, exposure and fatigue, which had served to render it at present not a little painful. As his eye for a moment rested upon it, his mind instantly reverted to its cause—recalled, with the rapidity of thought, which is the swiftest comparison we can make, the many and important events that had since transpired up to the present time, wherein the gentle Ella Barnwell held no second place—and he sighed, half aloud:

"I would to Heaven it had been mortal!—how much misery had then been spared me?"

As he said this, one of the squaws, who had been observing it intently, struck him thereon a violent blow with her fist, which started it to bleeding afresh, and, in spite of himself, caused Algernon to utter a sharp cry of pain, at which all laughed heartily. Thinking doubtless this species of amusement as interesting as any, the old hag was on the point of repeating the blow, when Girty arrested it, by saying something to her in the Indian tongue, and all three turned aside, as if to consult together, leaving our hero standing alone, unbound.

A wild thought now suddenly thrilled him. He was free, perchance he might escape; at least he could but die in the attempt; and that, at all events, was preferable to a lingering death of torture! He looked hurriedly around. Only the renegade and the squaws were close at hand, and they engaged in conversation. The main body of the Indians were at a distance, awaiting him to run the gauntlet. He needed no second thought to prompt him to the trial; and wheeling about, he placed his hand upon the wound, and bounded away with the fleetness of the deer. In a moment the yells of an hundred savages in pursuit, sounded in his ear, and urged him onward to the utmost of his strength. He was no mean runner at any time; now he was flying to save his life, and every nerve did its duty. Before him was a slope, that stretched away to the river Miami; and down this he fled with a velocity that astonished himself; while yell after yell of the demons behind, now in full chase, were to him only so many death cries, to stimulate him to renewed exertions. At last he gained the river and rushed into the water. It was not deep, and he struggled forward with all his might. On the opposite side was a steep hill and thicket. Could he but gain that, hope whispered he might elude his pursuers and escape. Again he redoubled his exertions; and, joy—joy to his heart—he reached it, just as the foremost of his adversaries, a powerful and fleet young warrior, dashed into the stream from the opposite bank. He now for the first time began to feel weak and fatigued; but his life was yet in danger, and he still pressed onward. Alas! alas! just on the point of escape, his strength was failing him fast, the blood was trickling too from his wound, and a sharp, severe pain afflicted him in his side. Oh God! he thought—what would he not give for the strength and soundness of body he once possessed! The thicket he had entered was dense and dark, so that it was impossible to move through it with much velocity, or see ahead any distance; and as the thought just recorded rushed through his brain, he came suddenly upon a high, steep rock. By this time his nearest pursuer was also entering the thicket; and in a minute or two more he felt capture would be certain, unless he could instantly secrete himself till his strength should be again renewed. Fortune for once now seemed to stand his friend; for stooping down at the base of the rock, he discovered it to be shelving and projecting somewhat over the declivity; so that by dropping upon the ground and crawling up under it, he would, owing to the density and darkness of the thicket, as before mentioned, be wholly concealed from any one standing upright. To do this was the work of a moment; and the next he heard his pursuing foe rush panting by, with much the same sense of relief that one experiences on awakening from a horrible dream, where death seemed inevitable, and finding oneself lying safely and easily in a comfortable bed.

We say Algernon experienced much the same sense of relief as the awakened dreamer; but unlike the latter, his was only momentary; for yell upon yell still sounded in his ear; and plunge after plunge into the stream, followed quickly by a rustling of the bushes around, the trampling of many feet close by, and the war-whoops of his enemies, warned him, that, if he had escaped one, there were hundreds yet to be eluded before he could consider himself as safe. Wildly his heart palpitated, as now one stirred the bushes within reach of his hand, and, slightly pausing, as if to examine the spot of his concealment, uttered a horrid yell, as of discovery, and then, just as he fancied all was lost, to his great relief darted suddenly away.

Thus one after another passed on; and their fierce yells gradually sounding more and more distant, renewed his hope, that he might yet escape their vigilant eyes, and again be free to roam the earth at will. O, potent, joyful thought!—how it made his very heart leap, and the blood course swiftly through his heated veins!—and then, when some sound was heard more near, how his heart sickened at the fear he might again be captured, and forced to a lingering, agonizing death!—how he shuddered as he thought, until his flesh felt chill and clammy, and cold drops of perspiration, wrung forth by mental agony, stood upon his pale features! Even death, before his escape, possessed not half the terrors for him it would have now; for then he had nerved himself to meet it, and prepared himself for the worst; but now he had again had a taste of freedom, and would feel the reverse in a thousand accumulated horrors.

Thus for a few minutes he lay, in painful thought, when he became aware, by the different sounds, that many of the savages were returning. Presently some two or three paused by the rock, and beat back the bushes around it. Then, dropping upon his knees, one of the Indians actually put his head to the ground, and peered up into the cavity. It was a horrible moment of suspense to Algernon, as he beheld the hideous visage of the savage so near, and evidently gazing upon him; and thinking himself discovered, he was on the point of coming forth, when a certain vagueness in the look of the Indian, led him to hope he was not yet perceived; and he lay motionless, with his breath suspended. But, alas! his hope was soon changed to despair; for after gazing a moment longer, the Indian suddenly started, his features expressed satisfaction, he uttered a significant grunt, and, springing to his feet, gave a loud, long, peculiar whoop. The next moment our hero was roughly seized, and, ere he could exert himself at all, dragged forth by the heels, by which means his limbs and body became not a little bruised and lacerated.

The savages now came running towards their prisoner from all quarters, in high glee at his recapture—being attracted hither, probably, by the signal whoop of success made by the one who first discovered him. Among the rest came Girty; who, as he approached Algernon, burst into a loud laugh, saying, in a jocular manner:

"Well, my fine bird, so you are caught again, eh? I was most infernally afraid you had got away in earnest; I was, by ——! But we'll soon fix you now, so that you won't run away again in a hurry."

Then turning to the savages around him, the renegade continued his remarks in the Indian tongue, occasionally laughing boisterously, in which they not unfrequently joined. In this manner, the whole party returned in triumph to the village—being met on their way thither by the women and children, who set up yells of delight, sung and danced around their prisoner, whom they beat with their fists and with sticks, until he became sore from head to heel.

The gauntlet was soon again made ready, and Algernon started upon the race; but fatigued in body and mind, from the late events—weak and faint from the bleeding of his wound and bruises—he scarcely reached twenty paces down the lines, ere he sunk overpowered to the earth; from which he was immediately raised, and borne forward to the council-house, where, according to the Indian custom, the chiefs and warriors were to decide upon his fate.

CHAPTER XIII.

Girty was the first to address the assemblage, in the Indian dialect, in an animated and angry speech of five minutes duration; occasionally turning his sinister visage upon the prisoners, with an expression of mortal hatred; gesticulating the while in that vehement manner which would have left no doubts on their minds as to the nature of his discourse, had they not previously known him to be their determined foe. He narrated to the savages, clearly and briefly, the wrongs which had been done them, as well as himself, by the whites; how, as the ally and friend of the red-man, he had been cursed, defied and treated with much contumely, by those here present; how their friends had followed and slaughtered his braves; how the whites were every day becoming stronger and more aggressive; how that, unless speedily exterminated, they would presently drive the red-men from their hunting grounds, burn their wigwams, and murder their wives and children; referred them, as a proof, to the sacking and burning of the Chillicothe and Piqua villages, on the Little Miami and Mad rivers, the year preceding, by General Clark and his men;[15] and wound up by demanding the death of the prisoners at the stake, and a speedy and bloody retaliation upon the pioneers of Kentucky.

As Girty concluded his speech, which was listened to in breathless silence, there was a great sensation in the house, and an almost unanimous grunt of approval from the chiefs and braves there assembled. It needed but this, to arouse their vindictive passions against the white invader to the extreme; and they bent upon the unfortunate prisoners, eyes which seemed inflamed with rage and revenge. Girty perceived, at a glance, that he had succeeded to the full of his heart's desire; and with a devilish smile of satisfaction on his features, he drew back among the warriors, to listen to the harangues of the others.

Black Hoof was the next to follow the renegade, in a similar but more eloquent strain; during which his countenance became greatly animated; and it was easy for the prisoners to perceive—who could not understand a word he uttered—that he spoke with great enthusiasm. He also pressed upon his companions the vast importance of exterminating the whites, ere they, as he expressed it, became as the leaves of the forest, and covered the red-man's soil; that, for this purpose, they should prepare themselves as soon as possible, to open a deadly, unyielding warfare upon the frontiers; but said, withal, that he was opposed to burning the prisoners—as that was a barbarism which he feared would not be sanctioned by the great Spirit—and urged that they should be put to death in, a quicker and milder form.[14]

Black Hoof's speech was warmly received, with the exception of what referred to the prisoners, and this rather coldly. They were excited to a powerful degree—their passions were up for revenge—and they could not bear the idea of sending a prisoner out of the world, without first enjoying the delight of seeing him writhe under the tortures of the stake.

Wild-cat next followed Black Hoof, in a brief speech, in which he but echoed the sentiments of Girty throughout, and received, like his colleague, an almost universal grunt of approbation. He was succeeded by one or two others, to the same effect—each urging the burning of the prisoners—and on their conclusion, no other appearing to speak, the old chief in the center at once proceeded to decide, by vote, the matter at issue. Advancing to the warrior nearest the door, he handed him a war-club, and then resumed his place in the circle, to record the will of each. He who was in favor of burning the prisoners, struck the ground fiercely with the weapon in question, and then passed it to his neighbor; he who was otherwise disposed, passed it quietly, in silence; thus it went through the whole assemblage—the old chief recording the vote of each, by cutting a notch on the stick in his hand; those for mercy being placed on one side, and those for the torture on the opposite. Some three or four only, besides Black Hoof, passed it quietly—consequently the sentence of death was carried by a decided majority. Had there been any doubt in the minds of Younker and Reynolds as to the result, it would have needed only one glance at Girty, who was now grinning upon them like a demon, to assure them their doom was sealed.

The question next came up as to the time and place for executing the sentence; and after some further debate, it was decided that the old man should be burnt forthwith, in the village, that their women and children might have a holiday pastime; but that Algernon must be made a grand national example of, before the assembled tribes at Upper Sandusky, when they should be met to receive presents from the British agent.[16] This latter decision was mainly effected by the eloquence of Black Hoof; who, from some cause, for which it would be impossible to account—only as a mysterious working of an overruling Providence—had secretly determined, if such a thing were possible, to save the life of Algernon; and took this method as the only one likely to aid his purpose by protecting him from immediate death.

The trial concluded, the council now broke up, and Girty was authorized to inform the prisoners of their sentence; while four young braves were selected to take charge of Algernon, and to set off with him, so soon as the burning of Younker should be over, for Upper Sandusky, where he was to be kept in durance until wanted. Advancing directly to the prisoners, the renegade now said, with a sneer:

"Well, my beauties, are you ready to die?"

"We don't expect any thing else, Simon Girty," answered the old man mildly.

"Don't you, by ——!" rejoined Girty. "Perhaps it's just as well you don't—ha, ha, ha! Come, old dotard," he continued, "down on your marrow bones and say your prayers; for, by ——! you will never behold the setting of another sun."

"I've said my prayers regular for thirty year," answered Younker; "and I've been ready to die whensomever the Lord should see fit to call me; and therefore don't feel myself no more obligated to pray jest at this particular time, than ef I war told I war going to live twenty year more. It's only them as hain't lived right, that the near coming o' death makes pray, more nor at another time; and so jest allow me, Simon Girty, to return you your advice, which is very good, and which, ef you follow yourself, you'll be likely to make a much better man nor you've ever done afore."

"Fool!" muttered the renegade, with an oath. Then turning to Algernon, he continued: "You, sirrah, are destined to live a little longer—though by no design of mine, I can assure you. Don't flatter yourself, though, that you are going to escape," he added, as he perceived the countenance of Algernon slightly brighten at his intelligence; "for, by ——! if I thought there was a probability of such a thing happening, I would brain you where you sit, if I died for it the next moment. No, young man, there is no escape for you; you are condemned to be burnt, as well as Younker, only at another place; and, by ——! I will follow you myself, to see that the sentence is enforced with all its horrors."

"For all of which you doubtless feel yourself entitled to my thanks," returned Algernon, bitterly. "Do your worst, Simon Girty; but understand me, before you go further, that though life is as dear to me at the present moment as to another, yet so much do I abhor and loathe the very sight of you, that, could I have it for the asking, I would not stoop to beg it of so brutal and cowardly a thing as yourself."

"By ——!" cried Girty, in a transport of rage; "the time will come, when, if you do not sue for life, you will for death, and at my hands; and till then will I forego my revenge for your insolence now. And let me tell you one thing further, that you may muse upon it in my absence. I will raise an army, ere many months are over, and march upon the frontiers of Kentucky; and by all the powers of good and evil, I swear again to get possession of the girl you love, but whom I now hate—hate as the arch-fiend hates Heaven—and she shall thenceforth be my mistress and slave; and to make her feel more happy, I will ever and anon whisper your name in her ear, and tell her how you died, and the part I took in your death; and in the still hours of night, will I picture to her your agonies and dying groans, and repeat your prayers for death to release you. Ha! you may well shudder and grow pale; for again I swear, by all the elements, and by every thing mortal and immortal, I will accomplish the deed! Then, and not till then, will I feel my revenge complete."

The countenance of Girty, as he said this, was terrible to behold; for so enraged was he, that he fairly foamed at the mouth, and his eyes seemed like two balls of fire. As he concluded, he turned away abruptly; and muttering something in the Indian tongue, to some of the savages who were standing around, immediately quitted the council-house.

As Girty departed, the four young warriors who were to have charge of Algernon, immediately advanced to him; and one of them tapping him on the shoulder, moved away, motioning him to follow. As he prepared to obey, Younker grasped him by the hand, and, with eyes full of tears, in a trembling, pathetic voice, said:

"Good-bye, lad! God bless and be with you. Something tells me we won't never meet agin. Keep up as stout a heart as you can, and ef you should escape, tell my (here the old man's voice faltered so that he could scarcely articulate a syllable)—tell my wife, and—and children—that I died happy, a thinking o' them, and praying for 'em—to—to the last. Good-bye! good-bye!" and wringing his hand again, the old man fairly sobbed aloud; while the rough warriors stood looking on in silence, and Algernon could only groan forth a farewell.

So they parted—never to meet again on earth.

Algernon was now conducted, by his guards, to a small building on the outskirts of the village; where, after receiving food and water, and having his clothes restored to him, he was informed by one of the Indians—who could speak a smattering of English—that he might be bound and remain, or accompany them to see the Big Knife tortured. He chose the former without hesitation; and was immediately secured in a manner similar to what he had been the night previously, and then left alone to the anguish of his own thoughts. What the feelings of our hero were, as thus he lay, suffering from his bruises and wound—his mind recurring to the dire events taking place in another part of the village, and his own awful doom—we shall leave to the imagination of the reader: suffice it to say, however, that when his guards returned, some two hours later, he was found in a swooning state, with large cold drops of perspiration standing thickly on his features.

Meantime, Younker was brought forth from the council-house—amid the hootings, revilings, and personal abuse of the savage mob—and then painted black,[17] preparatory to undergoing the awful death-sentence. He was then offered food—probably with the kind intention of strengthening him, and thus prolonging his life and tortures—but this he absolutely refused, and was immediately conducted to the place of execution, which was on the brow of the slope before described as reaching to the river. Here his wrists were immediately bound behind him; and then a rope, fastened to the ligature, was secured to a stake—driven into the earth for the purpose and left sufficiently long for him sit down, stand up, or walk around a circle of some six or eight feet in diameter.

During this proceeding, the Indians failed not to abuse him in various ways—some by pinching, and others by pounding him with their fists, with stones, and with clubs,—all of which he seemed to bear with great patience and resignation.

As soon as all was ready for the more diabolical tortures, Girty made the announcement, in a brief speech to the Indians; and then taking up a rifle, loaded with powder only, discharged it upon the prisoner's naked body. A loud yell of satisfaction, from the excited mob, followed this inhuman act; while several savages, rushing forward with rifles loaded in the same manner, now strove who should be first to imitate the renegade's example; by which means, no less than fifty discharges were made, in quick succession, until the flesh of the old man, from the neck downwards, was completely filled with burnt powder. Younker uttered a few groans, but bore all with manly fortitude, and made no complaints.

This part of the hellish ceremony over, a fire was kindled of hickory poles, placed in a circle round the stake, outside of that which his rope allowed Younker to make, in order that he might feel all the torments of roasting alive, without being sufficiently near to the flame to get a speedy relief by death. To add even more torture, if possible, to this infernal proceeding, the Indians would take up brands, and place the burning parts against the old man's body; and then, as they saw him cringe and writhe under the pain thus inflicted, would burst into horrid laughs, in which they were ever joined by the renegade. The old squaws too, and even the children, not wishing to be outdone in this refinement of cruelty, would take slabs, and having loaded them with live coals and ashes, would throw them upon his head and body, until not only both became covered, but the ground around him, so that there was no cool place for his feet; while at every new infliction of pain, the crowd would break forth in strains of wild, discordant laughter.

Thus passed some three-quarters of an hour of tortures the most horrible, during which the old man bore up under his sufferings with a strength and manliness that not only astonished his tormentors, but excited for himself, even in savage breasts, a feeling of respect. Girty, it may be, was moved to a similar feeling; for at length, advancing to his victim, he said, in a tone of more deference than he had hitherto used:

"You bear up well, old man—well. I have seen many a one die, in a similar way, who was thought to be courageous—yet none with that firmness you have thus far displayed."

Younker, who was slowly walking around the stake, with his face bent toward the earth, suddenly paused, as Girty addressed him, and turning his eyes mildly upon the renegade, in a feeble voice, replied:

"My firmness is given me from above. I can bear my torments, Simon Girty, for they're arthly, and will soon be over; but yourn—who'll say what yourn'll be, when you come to answer afore Almighty God for this and other crimes! But that arn't for the like o' me to speak of now. I'm a dying man, and trust soon to be in a better world. Ef I ever did you wrong, Simon Girty, I don't remember it now; and I'm very sartin I never did nothing to merit this. You came to my house, and war treated to the best I had, and here am I in return for't. Howsomever, the reckoning's got to come yit atween you and your God; and so I leave you—farewell."

"But say," returned Girty, who now seemed greatly moved by the manner and tone of Younker: "But say, old man, that you forgive me, and I will own that I did you wrong."

"I don't know's I've any enemies, except these round here," replied the other, feebly, "and I'd like to die at peace with all the world; but what you ax, Simon Girty, I can't grant; it's agin my nater and conscience; I can't say I forgive ye, for what you've done, for I don't. I may be wrong—it may not be Christian like—but ef it's a sin, it's one I've got to answer for myself. No, Girty, I can't forgive—pre'aps God will—you must look to him: I can't. Girty, I can't; and so, farewell forever! God be merciful to me a sinner," he added, looking upward devoutly; "and ef I've done wrong, oh! pardon me, for Christ's sake!"

With these words, the lips of Younker were sealed forever.

Girty stood and gazed upon him in silence, for a few minutes, as one whose mind is ill at ease, and then walked slowly away, in a mood of deep abstraction. Younker continued alive some three-quarters of an hour longer—bearing his tortures with great fortitude—and then sunk down with a groan and expired. The Indians then proceeded to scalp him; after which they gradually dispersed, with the apparent satisfaction of wolves that have gorged their fill on some sheep-fold.

When Algernon's guards returned, they found him in a swooning state, as previously recorded; and fearful that his life might be lost, and another day's sport thus spoiled, they immediately called in their great medicine man, who at once set about bandaging his wound, and applying to it such healing remedies as were known by him to be speedily efficacious, and for which the Indians are proverbially remarkable. His bruises were also rubbed with a soothing liquid; and by noon of the day following, he had gained sufficient strength to start upon his journey, accompanied by his guards.

On that journey we shall now leave him, and turn to other, and more important events; merely remarking, by the way, lest the reader should consider the neglect an oversight, that, on entering the Piqua village, Oshasqua had taken care to render the life of little Rosetta Millbanks safe, and had secured to her as much comfort as circumstances would permit.