Part 35 (2/2)

The firelight was thrown over the fallen tree, and reached some distance beyond, so that the figure of Black Turtle, as he rose like a shadow to his feet, was plainly shown.

One glance at the warrior told the whole truth to the watcher, whose gun was already c.o.c.ked and pointed in that direction.

Black Turtle had selected his own position, and, slowly drawing back his sinewy arm, he aimed straight for him who never dreamed of his peril.

The savage gathered his strength for the throw that was to inflict death upon an innocent man.

But Black Turtle made a slight mistake.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”But Black Turtle made a slight mistake.”]

Before the weapon could leave his fingers the sharp report of a rifle broke the stillness, followed instantly by the death-shriek of the savage, as he flung his arms aloft and fell forward, almost against the log on which the Brainerd family were sitting.

The scheme of Jake Golcher and Black Turtle was indefinitely postponed.

CHAPTER XLV.

The shock terrified the whole camp.

Aunt Peggy dropped the piece of meat she was cooking, and sprang back with a gasp. The other Indians, accustomed as they were to violence, stared in blank wonder, while those on the fallen tree leaped to their feet and gazed at the figure of the Indian as he lay on his face, with his tomahawk clenched in his vise-like grip.

Jake Golcher was dazed, and neither spoke nor stirred until Maggie, in the very depths of her agony, ran to him and exclaimed:

”What is the meaning of this? Was he seeking father's life? If he was, it was _you_ who told him to do it!”

The Tory looked in the white face of the girl, and said, in a surly voice:

”I didn't know anything about it.”

”Oh, Jake,” she continued, talking rapidly, and in such mental distress that every eye was fixed upon her; ”if this is _your_ work, a just G.o.d will punish you for it. Father has never sought to injure you. We are neighbors, and belong to the same race--”

He attempted to turn away, but she caught his arm, and faced him about.

”You shall hear me. If you want human lives, take _mine_--take Eva's, but spare his gray hairs; do him a wrong, and as sure as our Heavenly Father reigns above, a punishment shall come to you. Show him mercy, treat us as human beings, and you will thank Him to your dying day that He led you aright, when you went so far astray.”

The father would have gone forward and drawn her away, but he was held by her soulful eloquence.

She staggered back and would have fallen, had not Aunt Peggy, who, after all, was the most cool-headed one in the party, seen what was coming and caught her in her arms.

Half-supporting and half-dragging her, she got her back to the tree, where she gently seated her.

Poor Maggie threw her arms around the good woman's neck and gave way to hysterical sobbing, while her aunt tried to soothe her.

Mr. Brainerd sat like a statue, but his lips trembled, and it required all the power of his will to keep from breaking down as utterly as did Maggie herself, who, flinging one of her arms around weeping Eva, gathered her and their aunt in an embrace, and surrendered to her tempest of grief.

The Senecas looked on, but if there was any glimmering of tenderness in their nature it did not struggle to the surface, and the trees around them could not have betrayed less emotion.

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