Part 18 (2/2)

”Can you see the camp?” I asked, wriggling forward until my head was close beside his, and then it was not necessary he should make reply, for we had from this place of vantage a fairly good view of the red-skinned portion of St. Leger's army.

It is true that the trees and bushes screened certain portions of the encampment, but the greater number of the lodges were in a clearing, and Sergeant Corney pointed out to me that shelter which Jacob had told him was the one where his father was confined.

The Indians were lounging about lazily, some stretched at full length sleeping, others gathered in little companies, squatting on the ground as they smoked and talked, and not a few moving slowly to and fro; but never one who appeared to have any business on hand.

There were both women and children in the camp, which struck me as being odd, for when savages set off on the war-path it is not customary for them to take their families; but I explained this peculiar state of affairs to myself by the supposition that the women had been brought that they might do the work, which is deemed unfitting a warrior.

”Jacob counts on payin' one more visit to his father before we start,”

Sergeant Corney said to me, when, having wearied with gazing at the scene, I turned away.

”To what end?” I asked, with somewhat of irritation, for it did not seem to me wise the lad should run the chances of capture when nothing was to be effected by taking such risks.

”Only that he may speak with him.”

”But it is folly!” I said, sharply. ”It has been possible for him to go into the village twice; but of a certainty it cannot be done many times in safety.”

”You are right, lad, an' yet how can we refuse him? Fancy if your father was in the same tight place, an' ask yourself if, when about to turn your back on him, perhaps forever, the desire to hold converse with him once more would not be stronger than the fear of disaster?”

To this I could make no reply, as a matter of course; yet I was still firmly convinced that it was a foolhardy venture. If there had been a possibility of his doing the prisoner any good, then would I have said that we would stay on until further efforts were of no avail. As it was, however, Peter Sitz himself had said it was wiser for Jacob to go, and surely he, the most interested and the most experienced in such matters, should be the judge.

I held my tongue, even though rebelling against the scheme, because of knowing that the lad was prompted only by love, and yet my heart grew heavy within me, until I had become convinced that something of evil would follow.

So disturbed was I in mind that it was impossible to close my eyes in slumber again, even though knowing that my best preparation for the journey would consist in getting all the rest I could.

Sergeant Corney had fallen into what seemed to me a moody silence; I looked out now and then at the painted forms of those human wolves, who would lay waste our happy valley, and wished most fervently that I had the power to destroy them all with one blow.

When one has seen, as have I, women and children butchered in the most fiendish manner which a wicked man can devise, he cannot consider bloodthirsty the person who would, if he could, wipe out the entire race.

It would only be an act of mercy to the colonists, who lived in momentary fear, not so much of sudden death as of barbarous torture.

Jacob slept until nightfall, and when he awakened the first thought in his mind was to set off on his dangerous and useless venture; but Sergeant Corney advised that he wait until the night was well advanced, and to this I agreed, although chafing against the expenditure of time, because he would but have ensured his own capture had he ventured among the wretches while the entire encampment was astir.

We did not have supper for the very good reason that we had no provisions, but buckled our belts a bit tighter, because already was hunger beginning to a.s.sail us.

As we waited for the lengthening of the night, Jacob went over in detail his experiences while Sergeant Corney and I were with General Herkimer, and this served to make the time seemingly pa.s.s more swiftly.

The savages evidently had no fiendish sport on their programme for this evening, most likely because of having exhausted themselves the night previous, and at a reasonably early hour this portion of St. Leger's army was in a comparative state of quietude.

”Now, if ever, is the time when you can go, lad; but remember that I advise against it, as would your father,” Sergeant Corney said, gravely.

”I am not minded to argue you out of what your heart is set upon, but ask that you give the matter due weight before goin' so far that retreat will be impossible.”

”I must speak with my father once more,” Jacob said, in a tone so piteous that I did not have the heart to make any protest.

”Then G.o.d go with you,” the old soldier said, solemnly, and in a twinkling my comrade had slipped out of the cave, being lost to our view almost immediately amid the foliage near at hand.

When we were thus left alone a silence fell upon us. Because of the forebodings in my heart I was not inclined for conversation, and I dare venture to say the sergeant held his peace for much the same reason.

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