Part 26 (1/2)

The latter seemed to conclude that nothing more was to be gained from the negro, and he ceased asking him questions.

The servant groaned and rubbed his leg with every appearance of great pain.

”Ma.s.sa Golcher,” said he, with a groan, ”I'd be much obliged to yer, if you'll jes pull off my shoe and rub dat ankle for half an hour.”

And as he made this astounding request he moved still nearer, and thrust his enormous shoe almost in the face of the renegade, who turned savagely upon him.

”I'll teach yer manners, you black--”

He rose to his feet and whipped out his knife as he spoke, but Gimp also came to the standing position, and he was a little quicker than the Tory. Golcher had drawn his weapon, but before he suspected the design of his a.s.sailant, Gimp lowered his head and ran like a steam-engine straight at him.

The iron-like skull struck Golcher ”'mids.h.i.+ps” and knocked him over backwards, his heels going up in the air, while he described an almost complete somersault, with the breath gone from his body.

The drowsy Seneca roused up just in time to witness the performance, and to see the same battering-ram charging down upon him.

He turned to leap aside until he could draw his tomahawk, but he was a second too late, and the projectile took him in the pit of the stomach, and banged him against a neighboring tree with such violence that the breath left his body also, and there is reason to believe it never returned.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

There was not a particle of lameness in the movements of Gravity Gimp as he went through this programme, but his actions were like those of an athlete.

Catching up the gun of the prostrate Indian, he was off like a shot, running with the speed of a deer among the trees, and with great risk, for the darkness was too dense to permit him to see where he was going.

”Dat ere pertendin' dat I was lame was a stroke ob gen'us,” he muttered, with a huge grin, as he slackened his gait somewhat, ”and, if it hadn't been for dat lameness, I'd been 'sa.s.sinated.

”Shouldn't wonder if dey did scoop in all de folks,” he added, with a pang of fear, ”and if dey does, why Aunt Peggy must go to b.u.t.tin' de Injuns ober de same as I done. _s.h.!.+_”

He listened for sounds of pursuit, but there was none, and he drew a sigh of relief, hoping that his friends were in as safe a situation as he.

Gray Panther, chief of the Senecas, conducted his portion of the programme, as we have already seen, with cunning and skill.

Fred G.o.dfrey, Richard Brainerd, Maggie and Eva, Aunt Peggy, and Habakkuk McEwen were his prisoners, and within five minutes after they became such they were started, under the charge of the warriors, for the camp, where Jake Golcher was expecting them.

The hands of the males were tied behind them so securely that they felt there was no possibility of freeing themselves. Their weapons were removed, as a matter of course, but no one of the three females was offered any indignity by the Indians, who were carrying out the instructions of Jake Golcher himself.

Since the captors did not seem to feel any objection, several of the whites ventured on a few words. Habakkuk, however, as he stumbled along over the obstructions at the rear, felt in anything but a conversational mood, and for a time held his peace.

”These are the most scand'lous purceedings that I ever heard tell of,”

ventured Aunt Peggy, in her snappish way.

”You are right,” said Fred G.o.dfrey; ”it is the most terrible reverse I ever saw.”

”Oh, I don't mean that.”

”What do you refer to?”