Part 18 (1/2)
”I urged him to make the attempt, but he claimed that there was no hope we two could leave the village undiscovered. First he was bound hand an'
foot, an', although I might have cut my way through the lodge to release him from the fetters, he forbade it because of the risk, sayin' I must not endanger my life on account of mother, an' insistin' that at some future time escape would be more easy than then. He ordered me to go home at once, providin' I could not find you, an' I would have done so this night but for the battle of the mornin'.”
”Why did that stop you?” I asked. ”Surely you had no part in it?”
”No; but the savages were so infuriated that I feared even Thayendanega himself would be unable to prevent the wretches from leadin' my father to the stake, therefore I remained on watch. Three prisoners have been murdered in a most barbarous manner, but yet he was left unmolested in the lodge. Have you somethin' to eat?”
I took from my pocket all the food remaining, and the lad devoured it like one famished, whereupon Sergeant Corney asked:
”Have you had nothin' to eat since we left you?”
”I gathered some roots an' berries, but not enough to satisfy my hunger.”
”An' yet you would have stayed here longer in danger of starvation?”
”Ay, until havin' satisfied myself that father was as safe as one can be who remains in the power of such as are encamped here. Did you come for no other purpose than to find me?”
”Nothin' more,” I said, not minded to let him know that if he could show any reasonable chance of rescuing Peter Sitz it was our purpose to give him aid.
”Where have you been all this while?”
”That is too long a story to tell now,” Sergeant Corney interrupted. ”If the savages are not likely to do more than dance from now till mornin', we may as well find a shelter in which to spend the morrow, an' then I'm of the opinion that the three of us had best make tracks for Cherry Valley, as Jacob's father advised.”
As he ceased speaking, Sergeant Corney would have led us out of the thicket; but Jacob whispered, softly:
”Not half a mile away is a small cave--no more than a hole in the hillside, an' there we may remain hidden durin' the hours of daylight.”
”Lead the way, an' we will follow,” the old man said, in a tone of command, and straightway Jacob did as he was thus ordered.
Knowing, as the lad did, very nearly where the Indians might be found, we advanced with reasonable rapidity, until having come to the place of which he had spoken.
It was indeed no more than a hole in the ground, and so small that when we three were lying at full length inside with our heads toward the opening, it would have been a very small cat who could have found a chance to lie down comfortably with us.
Some bushes and a tangle of creeping vines hid the entrance most admirably; but, after we were once inside, I questioned to myself whether we had not been reckless in coming directly to this place without taking precautions to cover our footprints, for, should a keen-eyed savage chance to see our trail, there was good reason for believing he would follow it up.
However, we were there, and the mischief might not be undone readily, therefore I held my peace, saying mentally that if Sergeant Corney and Jacob were satisfied with having taken no especial precautions, then of a verity ought I, the least experienced in woodcraft of the three, be content.
When Jacob had eaten all the small store of provisions which I gave him without having apparently satisfied his hunger, he insisted on our telling him what we had done since he left us, and I related the story much as it is set down here, spending a full hour in the recital.
When I had finally come to an end, the old soldier proposed that as soon as another day had pa.s.sed we should turn our faces toward Cherry Valley, for, after receiving the commands of his father, Jacob could do no less than go home.
I understood full well that the lad would have encountered any danger or suffered every privation rather than leave this place where his father was held prisoner, even though there was little or no hope he could aid him; but yet he did not argue against the plan, and thus was it settled that when night came again we would start on our journey.
”Save for the fact that father himself insisted I should go, no one could force me to leave here,” Jacob said, after a long pause, and Sergeant Corney added, soothingly, saying that which I question if he himself really believed:
”You can do no better, lad. If Thayendanega has given his word to save your father's life, so will it be, despite all the howlin' wolves in his followin'. But if you should stay here and be discovered tryin' to rescue him, there is little doubt that it would result in the death of both.”
With that we fell silent once more, and I was right glad of an opportunity to sleep.
Jacob insisted that the old soldier and I give ourselves up to slumber while he kept guard, for he did not need the rest as much as we.
Therefore it was that I slept soundly and sweetly until a full hour past noon, and when I awakened the sergeant was peering out through the leafy curtain in front of the cave, while Jacob was enjoying his turn at sleep.