Camps and Firesides of the Revolution | ||
40. Captured by the Indians
BY JOHN GYLES (1736)[101]
ON the second spring of my captivity my Indian master and his squaw went to Canada; but sent me down the river with several Indians to the Fort, in order to plant corn. The day before we came to the planting field we met two young Indian men, who seemed to be in great haste. After they had passed us I understood that they were going with an express to Canada, and that there was an English vessel at the mouth of the river. I, not perfect in the language, nor knowing that English vessels traded with them in time of war, supposed a peace was concluded on, and that the captives would be released; and was so transported with the fancy that I slept but
Then those Cape Sable Indians came to me again like bears bereaved of their whelps, saying, "Shall we, who have lost relations by the English, suffer an English voice to be heard among us?" etc. Then they beat me again with the axe. Then I repented that I had not sent two or three of them out of the world before me, for I thought that I had much rather die than suffer any longer. They left me the
After they had thus inhumanly abused us, two Indians took us up and threw us out of the wigwam, and we crawled away on our hands and feet, and were scarce able to walk for several days. Some time after, they again concluded on a merry dance, when I was at some distance from the wigwam dressing leather, and an Indian was so kind as to tell me that they had got James Alexander, and were in search of me. My Indian master and his squaw bid me run as for my life into a swamp and hide, and not to discover myself, unless they both came to me, for then I might be assured the dance was over. I was now master of their language, and a word or a wink was enough to excite me to take care of myself. I ran to the swamp, and hid in the thickest place that I could find. I heard hollowing and whooping all around me; sometimes they passed very near, and I could hear some threaten, and others flatter me, but I was not disposed to dance; and if
I heard no more of them till about evening (for I think I slept), when they came again, calling "Chon, Chon," but John would not trust them. After they were gone, my master and his squaw came where they told me to hide, but could not find me; and when I heard them say with some concern, that they believed that the other Indians had frightened me into the woods, and that I was lost, I came out, and they seemed well pleased, and told me that James had had a bad day of it; that as soon as he was released he ran away into the woods, and they believed he was gone to the Mohawks. James soon returned and gave me a melancholy account of his sufferings; and the Indians' fright concerning the Mohawks passed over.
They often had terrible apprehension of the incursion of the Mohawks.[102] One very hot season a great number gathered together at the village; and, being a very thirsty people, they kept James and myself night and day fetching water from a cold spring that ran out of a rocky hill about three-quarters of a mile from the fort. In going thither, we crossed a large intervale, or meadow, and then a descent to a lower intervale before we ascended the hill to the spring. James, who was almost dead as well as I, with this continual fatigue, laid a plan to fright the Indians. He told me of it, but conjured me to secrecy, yet said he knew that I could keep counsel. The next dark night James, going for water, set his kettle on the descent to the lowest intervale, and ran back to the fort, puffing and blowing, as in the utmost
A WAR FLAG.
[Description: Drawing of a war flag used in the French and Indian War, featuring a man's head with dozens of extra eyes drawn all over his face. At the bottom of the picture is a banner that reads "VIGILANTIBUS."]My most intimate and dear companion was one John Evans, a young man taken from Quochecho. As often as we could, we met together, and made known our grievances to each other, which seemed to ease our minds; but when it was known by the Indians, we were strictly examined apart, and falsely accused, that we were intending to desert. But we were too far from the sea to have any thought of that; and when they found that our stories agreed, we received no punishment. An English captive girl about this time (who was taken by Medocawando) would often falsely accuse us of plotting to desert, but we made the truth so plainly appear, that she was chidden and we released.
The third winter of my captivity James went into the country, and the Indians imposed a heavy burden on him, though he was extreme weak with long fasting; and as he was going off the upland over a place of ice which was very hollow, he broke through, fell down, and cut his knee very much. Notwithstanding, he travelled for some time; but the wind and cold were so forcible, that they soon overcame him, and he sat or fell down, and all the Indians passed by him. Some of them went back the next day after him, or his pack, and found him, with a dog in his
Camps and Firesides of the Revolution | ||