University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.

The light struck by the negro was soon succeeded
by a fire, for which ample materials lay
ready at hand among the ruins; and as it blazed
up from the broken and long deserted hearth, the
travellers could better view the dismal aspect of
the cabin. It consisted, as has been mentioned, of
but a single remaining apartment, with walls of
logs, from whose chinks the clay, with which they
had been originally plastered, had long since vanished,
with here and there a fragment of a log
itself, leaving a thousand gaps for the admission
of wind and rain. The ceiling of poles (for it had
once possessed a kind of garret) had fallen down
under the weight of the rotting roof, of which but
a small portion remained, and that in the craziest
condition; and the floor of puncheons, or planks
of split logs, was in a state of equal dilapidation,
more than half of it having rotted away, and
mingled with the earth on which it reposed.
Doors and windows there were none; but two
mouldering gaps in the front and the rear walls,
and another of greater magnitude opening from
the side into what had once been the hall or passage,
(though now a platform heaped with fragments
of charred timber,) showed where the narrow
entrance and loop-hole windows had once
existed. The former was without leaf or defence
of any kind, unless such might have been found
in three or four logs standing against the wall hard

by, whence they could be easily removed and
piled against the opening; for which purpose, Roland
did not doubt they had been used, and by
the houseless Nathan himself. But a better protection
was offered by the ruins of the other apartment,
which had fallen down in such a way as
almost to block up the door, leaving a passage in
and out, only towards the rear of the building;
and, in case of sudden attack and seizure of this
sole entrance, there were several gaps at the bottom
of the wall, through one of which, in particular,
it would be easy enough to effect a retreat.
At this place, the floor was entirely wanting, and
the earth below washed into a gully communicating
with the rocky ravine, of which it might be
considered the head.

But the looks of the soldier did not dwell long
upon the dreary spectacle of ruin; they were
soon cast upon the countenance of Edith, concealed
so long by darkness. It was even wanner
and paler than he feared to find it, and her eye
shone with an unnatural lustre, as it met his own.
She extended her hands and placed them in his,
gazed upon him piercingly, but without speaking,
or indeed seeming able to utter, a single word.

“Be of good heart,” he said, replying to the
look of inquiry; “we are unfortunate, Edith, but
we are safe.”

“Thank Heaven!” she exclaimed, but more
wildly than fervently: “I have been looking every
moment to see you shot dead at my feet! Would
I had died, Roland, my brother, before I brought
you to this fatal land—But I distress you! Well,
I will not be frightened more. But is not this an
adventure for a woman that never before looked
upon a cut finger without fainting? Truly, Roland,—`truly,'
as friend Nathan says,—it is as

ridiculous as frightful: and then this cabin, where
they killed so many poor women and children,—
is it not a ridiculous lodging place for Edith Forrester?
a canopy of clouds, a couch of clay, with
owls and snakes for my bed-fellows—truly, truly,
truly, it is very ridiculous!”

It seemed, for a moment, as if the maiden's effort
to exchange her melancholy and terror for a
more joyous feeling, would have resulted in producing
even greater agitation than before; but
the soothing words of Roland, and the encouraging
countenance maintained by Telie Doe, who
seemed little affected by their forlorn situation,
gradually tranquillized her mind, and enabled her
the better to preserve the air of levity and mirthfulness,
which she so vainly attempted at first to
assume. This moment of calm Roland took advantage
of to apprise her of the necessity of recruiting
her spirits with a few hours' sleep; for
which purpose he began to look about him for
some suitable place in which to strew her a bed
of fern and leaves.

“Why, here is one strewn for me already,” she
cried, with an affected laugh, pointing to a corner,
in which lay a mass of leaves so green and fresh
that they looked as if plucked but a day or two
before; “truly, Nathan has not invited me to his
hiding-place to lodge me meanly; (Heaven forgive
me for laughing at the poor man; for we
owe him our lives!) nay, nor to send me supperless
to bed. See!” she added, pointing to a small
brazen kettle, which her quick eye detected among
the leaves, and which was soon followed by a
second that Emperor stirred up from its concealment,
and both of them, as was soon perceived,
still retaining the odour of a recent savoury stew:
“Look well, Emperor: where the kitchen is, the

larder cannot be far distant. I warrant me we
shall find that Nathan has provided us a good
supper.”

“Such, perhaps, as a woodman only can eat,”
said Roland, who, somewhat surprised at the superfluous
number of Nathan's valuables, (for to
Nathan, he doubted not, they belonged,) had begun
stirring the leaves, and succeeded in raking
up with his rifle, which he had not laid aside, a
little earthen pouch, well stored with parched
corn: “A strange fellow, this Nathan,” he muttered:
“he really spoke as if he had not visited
the ruin for a considerable period; whereas it is
evident he must have slept here last night. But he
seems to affect mystery in all that concerns his
own private movements—It is the character of
his persuasion.”

While Roland with the females, was thus laying
hands, and speculating, upon the supposed
chattels of their conductor, Nathan himself entered
the apartment, betraying some degree of agitation
in his countenance; whilst the faithful Peter,
who followed at his side, manifested equal uneasiness,
by snuffing the air, whining, and rubbing
himself frequently against his master's legs.

“Friends,” he cried, abruptly, “Peter talks too
plainly to be mistaken: there is mischief nigh at
hand, though where, or how it can be, sinner and
weak foolish man that I am, I know not: we must
leave warm fires and soft beds, and take refuge
again in the woods.”

This unexpected announcement again banished
the blood from Edith's cheeks. She had, on his
entrance, caught the pouch of corn from Roland's
hands, intending to present it to the guide, with
some such light expressions as should convince
her kinsman of her recovered spirits; but the

visage and words of Nathan struck her dumb,
and she stood holding it in her hand, without
speaking a word, until it caught Nathan's eye.
He snatched it from her grasp, surveying it with
astonishment and even alarm, and only ceased to
look at it, when little Peter, who had run into the
corner and among the bed of leaves, uttered a
whine louder than before. The pouch dropped
from Nathan's hand as his eye fell upon the shining
kettles, on which he gazed as if petrified.

“What, in Heaven's name, is the matter?” demanded
Roland, himself taking the alarm: “are
you frighted at your own kettles?”

“Mine!” cried Nathan, clasping his hands, and
looking terror and remorse together—“If thee
will kill me, friend, thee will scarce do amiss; for,
miserable, blind sinner that I am, I have led thee
poor luckless women into the very lion's den! into
the hiding-place and head-quarters of the very
cut-throats that is seeking to destroy thee! Up
and away—does thee not hear Peter howling at
the door? Hist! Peter, hist!—Truly, this is a pretty
piece of business for thee, Nathan Slaughter!—
Does thee not hear them close at hand?”

“I hear the hooting of an owl and the answer
of his fellow,” replied Roland; but his words were
cut short by a second howl from Peter, and the
cry of his master, “Up, if thee be not besotted;
drag thee women by the hands, and follow me.”

With these words, Nathan was leaping towards
the door, when a cry from Roland arrested him.
He looked round and perceived Edith had fainted
in the soldier's arms. “I will save the poor thing
for thee—help thou the other,” he cried, and
snatching her up as if she had been but a feather,
he was again in the act of springing to the door,
when brought to a stand by a far more exciting

impediment. A shriek from Telie Doe, uttered in
sudden terror, was echoed by a laugh, strangely
wild, harsh, guttural, and expressive of equal
triumph and derision, coming from the door;
looking to which, the eyes of Nathan and the soldier
fell upon a tall and naked Indian, shorn and
painted, who, rifle in hand, the grim smile yet
writhing on his features, and exclaiming with a
mockery of friendly accost, “Bo-zhoo, [1] brudders,
—Injun good friend!” was stepping that moment
into the hovel; and as if that spectacle and those
sounds were not enough to chill the heart's blood
of the spectators, there were seen over his
shoulders, the gleaming eyes, and heard behind
his back, the malign laughter of three or four
equally wild and ferocious companions.

“To the door, if thee is a man,—rush!” cried
Nathan, with a voice more like the blast of a
bugle than the tone of a frighted man of peace;
and casting Edith from his arms, he set the example
of attack or flight—Roland scarcely knew
which,—by leaping against the breast of the daring
intruder. Both fell together across the threshold,
and Roland, obeying the call with desperate and
frantic ardour, stumbled over their bodies, pitching
headlong into the passage, whereby he escaped
the certain death that otherwise awaited
him, three several rifle shots having been that instant
poured upon him from a distance of scarce
as many feet.

“Strike, if thee conscience permits thee!” he
heard the voice of Nathan cry in his ears, and

the next moment, a shot from the interior of the
hovel, heralded by a quavering cry from the faithful
Emperor,—“Lorra-gor! nebber harm an Injun
in my life!” struck the hatchet from the shattered
hand of a foeman, who had taken advantage
of his downfall to aim a fatal blow at him
while rising. A yell of pain came from the
maimed and baffled warrior, who, springing over
the blackened ruins before the door, escaped the
stroke of the clubbed rifle which the soldier aimed
at him in return, the piece having been discharged
by the fall. The cry of the flying assailant was
echoed by what seemed in Roland's ears the yells
of fifty supporters, two of whom he saw within
six feet of him, brandishing their hatchets, as if
in the act of flinging them at his almost defenceless
person. It was at this moment that he experienced
aid from a quarter whence it was
almost least expected; a rifle was discharged
from the ravine, and as one of the fierce foes suddenly
dropped, mortally wounded, upon the floor,
he heard the voice of Pardon, the Yankee, crying,
in tones of desperation, “When there's no
dodging 'em, then I'm the man for 'em, or it an't
no matter!”

“Bravo! bravely done, Emperor and Dodge
both!” cried Roland, to whom this happy and
quite unexpected display of courage from his followers,
and its successful results, imparted a degree
of assurance and hope not before felt; for,
indeed, up to this moment, his feeling had been
the mere frenzy of despair; “courage, and rush
on!” And with these words, he did not hesitate
to dash against the remaining foe, striking up the
uplifted hatchet with his rifle, and endeavouring
with the same effort to dash his weapon into the
warrior's face. But the former part only of the

manœuvre succeeded; the tomahawk was indeed
dashed aside, but the rifle was torn from his own
grasp, and the next moment he was clutched as
in the embrace of a bear, and pressed with suffocating
force upon the breast of his undaunted
adversary.

“Brudder!” growled the savage, and the foam
flew from his grinning lips, advanced until they
were almost in contact with the soldier's face,
“Brudder!” he cried, as he felt his triumph, and
twined his arms still more tightly around Roland's
frame, “Long-knife nothing! hab a scalp, Shawnee!”

With these words, he sprang from the broken
floor of the passage, on which the encounter began,
and dragging the soldier along, made as if
he would have carried him off alive. But although
in the grasp of a man of much superior
strength, the resolution and activity of Roland
preserved him from a destiny at once so fearful
and ignoble. He exerted the strength he possessed
at the instant when the bulky captor was
springing from the floor to the broken ground
beneath, and with such effect, that, though it did
not entirely release him from his grasp, it carried
them headlong to the earth together; whence,
after a brief and blind struggle, both rose together,
each clutching at the weapon that promised
soonest to terminate the contest. The pistols of
the soldier, which, as well as Emperor's, the
peaceful Nathan had taken the precaution to carry
with him into the ruin, had been forgotten in the
suddenness and hurry of the assault; his rifle had
been wrested from his hands, and thrown he
knew not where. The knife, which, like a true
adventurer of the forest, he had buckled in his
belt, was ready to be grasped; but the instinct of

long habits carried his hand to the broad-sword,
which was yet strapped to his thigh; and this, as
he rose, he attempted to draw, not doubting that
a single blow of the trusty steel would rid him of
his brown enemy. But the Shawnee, as bold, as
alert, and far more discreet, better acquainted,
too, with those savage personal rencontres which
make up so large a portion of Indian warfare,
had drawn his knife before he had yet regained
his footing; and before the Virginian's sword was
half unsheathed, the hand that tugged at it was
again seized and held as in a vice, while the
warrior, elevating his own free weapon above his
head, prepared, with a laugh and whoop of triumph,
to plunge it into the soldier's throat. His
countenance, grim with war-paint, grimmer still
with ferocious exultation, was distinctly perceived,
the bright blaze of the fire shining through the
gaps of the hovel, so as to illuminate every feature;
and Roland, as he strove in vain to clutch
at the uplifted arm so as to avert the threatened
blow, could distinguish every motion of the weapon
and every change of his foeman's visage.
But he did not even then despair, for he was in
all circumstances affecting only himself, a man of
true intrepidity; and it was only when, on a sudden,
the light wholly vanished from the hovel, as
if the brands had been scattered and trodden out,
that he began to anticipate a fatal result from the
advantage possessed by his opponent. But at that
very instant, and while, blinded by the sudden
darkness, he was expecting the blow which he no
longer knew how to avoid, the laugh of the
warrior, now louder and more exultant than before,
was suddenly changed to a yell of agony.
A jet of warm blood, at the same moment, gushed
over Roland's right arm; and the savage,
struck by an unknown hand, or by a random ball,
fell a dead man at his feet, overwhelming the soldier
in his fall.

“Up, and do according to thee conscience!”
cried Nathan Slaughter; whose friendly arm,
more nervous than that of his late foe, at this conjuncture
jerked Roland from beneath the body;
“for truly, thee fights like unto a young lion, or
an old bear; and, truly, I will not censure thee, if
thee kills a whole dozen of the wicked cut-throats!
Here is thee gun and thee pistols: fire and shout
aloud with thee voice; for, of a verity, thee enemies
is confounded by thee resolution: do thee
make them believe thee has been reinforced by
numbers.”

And with that, the peaceful Nathan, uplifting
his voice, and springing among the ruins from
log to log, began to utter a series of shouts, all
designed to appear as if coming from different
throats, and all expressing such manly courage
and defiance, that even Pardon Dodge, who yet
lay ensconced among the rocks of the ravine, and
Emperor, the negro, who, it seems, had taken post
behind the ruins at the door, felt their spirits wax
resolute and valiant, and added their voices to the
din, the one roaring, “Come on, ye 'tarnal critturs,
if you must come!” while the other bellowed,
with equal spirit, “Don't care for niggah Injun
no way—will fight and die for massa and
missie!”

All these several details, from the moment of
the appearance of the warrior at the door until
the loud shouts of the besieged travellers took the
place of the savage whoops previously sounded,
passed in fewer moments than we have taken
pages to record them. The rush of Nathan
against the leader, the discomfiture of one, and

the death of his two other comrades, were indeed
the work of but an instant, as it seemed to Roland;
and he was scarce aware of the assault,
before he perceived that it was over. The successful,
and, doubtless, the wholly unexpected, resistance
of the little party, resulting in a manner
so fatal to the advanced guard of assailants, had
struck terror and confusion into the main body,
whose presence had been only made known by
their yells, not a single shot having yet been fired
by them.

It was in this moment of confusion that Nathan
sprang to the side of Roland, who was hastily recharging
his piece, and catching him by the hand,
said, with a voice that betrayed the deepest agitation,
though his countenance was veiled in night,
—“Friend, I have betrayed thee poor women into
danger, so that the axe and scalping-knife is now
near their innocent poor heads!”

“It needs not to speak of it,” said Roland; adding
hastily, “The miscreant that entered the
cabin—did you kill him?”

“Kill, friend! I kill!” echoed Nathan, with accents
more disturbed than ever; “would thee have
me a murderer? Truly, I did creep over him,
and leave the cabin.—”

“And left him in it alive!” cried Roland, who
was about to rush into the hovel, when Nathan
detained him, saying, “Don't thee be alarmed,
friend. Truly, thee may think it was ill of me to
fall upon him so violently; but, truly, he must
have split his head on a log, or wounded himself
with a splinter;—or perhaps the coloured person
stuck him with a knife; but, truly, as it happened,
his blood spouted on my hand, by reason of
the hurt he got; so that I left him clean dead.”

“Good!” said Roland; “but, by Heaven, I

hoped and believed you had yourself finished him
like a man. But time presses: we must retreat
again to the woods,—they are yet open behind
us.”

“Thee is mistaken,” said Nathan; and, as if to
confirm his words, there arose at that instant a
loud whooping, with the crack of a dozen or more
rifles, let fly with impotent rage by the enemy,
showing plainly enough that the ruin was already
actually environed.

“The ravine,—the river!” cried Forrester; we
can swim it with the horses, if it be not fordable.”

“It is a torrent that would sweep thee, with thee
strongest war-horse, to perdition,” muttered Nathan:
“does thee not hear how it roars among
the rocks and cliffs? It is here deep, narrow, and
rocky; and, though, in the season of drought, a
child might step across it from rock to rock, it is
a cataract in the time of floods. No, friend; I
have brought thee into a trap whence thee has no
escape, unless thee would desert thee poor helpless
women.”

“Put but them in safety,” said Roland, “and
care not for the rest.—And yet I do not despair:
we have shown what we can do by resolution:
we can keep the cut-throats at bay till the morning.”

“And what will that advantage thee, except to
see thee poor females murdered in the light of
the sun, instead of having them killed out of thee
sight in darkness? Truly, the first glimmer of
dawn will be the signal of death to all; for then
the Shawnees will find thee weakness, if indeed
they do not find it before.”

“Man!” said Roland, “why should you drive
me to despair? Give me better comfort,—give me

counsel, or say no more. You have brought us to
this pass: do your best to save us, or our blood be
upon your head.”

To these words of unjust reproach, wrung from
the young soldier by the bitterness of his feelings,
Nathan at first made no reply. Preserving silence
for awhile, he said, at last,—

“Well, friend, I counsel thee to be of good
heart, and to do what thee can, making thee enemies,
since thee cannot increase thee friends, as
few in numbers as possible; to do which, friend,”
he added, suddenly, “if thee will shoot that evil
creature that lies like a log on the earth, creeping
towards the ruin, I will have no objection!”

With these words, which were uttered in a low
voice, Nathan, pulling the young man behind a
screen of fallen timbers near to which they stood,
endeavoured to point him out the enemy whom
his eye had that moment detected crawling towards
the hovel with the subtle motion of a serpent.
But the vision of Roland, not yet accustomed
to trace objects in the darkness of a wood,
failed to discover the approaching foe.

“Truly,” said Nathan, somewhat impatiently,
“if thee will not consider it as an evil thing of
me, and a blood-guiltiness, I will hold thee gun for
thee, and thee shall pull the trigger!”—which
piece of service the man of peace, having doubtless
satisfied his conscience of its lawfulness, was
actually about to render the soldier, when the
good intention was set at naught by the savage
suddenly leaping to his feet, followed by a dozen
others, all springing, as it seemed, out of the
earth, and rushing with wild yells against the
ruin. The suddenness and fury of the attack
struck dismay to the bosom of the soldier, who
discharging his rifle, and snatching up his pistols,

already in imagination beheld the bloody fingers
of a barbarian grasped among the bright locks of
his Edith; when Nathan, crying, “Blood upon
my hands, but not upon my head!—give it to
them, murdering dogs!” let fly his own piece upon
the throng; the effect of which, together with the
discharge of Roland's pistols immediately after,
was such as to stagger the assailants, of whom
but a single one preserved resolution enough to
advance upon the defenders, whooping to his companions
in vain to follow. “Thee will remember I
fight to save the lives of thee helpless women!”
muttered Nathan, in Roland's ear; and then, as if
the first act of warfare had released him for ever
from all peaceful obligations, awoke a courage and
appetite for blood superior even to the soldier's,
and, in other words, set him entirely beside himself,
he rushed against the advancing Shawnee,
dealing him a blow with the butt of his heavy-stocked
rifle that crushed through skull and brain
as through a gourd, killing the man on the spot.
Then, leaping like a buck to avoid the shot of the
others, he rushed back to the ruin, and grasping
the hand of the admiring soldier, and wringing it
with all his might, he cried, “Thee sees what thee
has brought me to! Friend, thee has seen me shed
a man's blood!—But, nevertheless, friend, the villains
shall not kill thee poor women, nor harm a
hair of their heads.”

The valour of the man of peace was fortunately
seconded on this occasion by Dodge and the negro,
the former from his hiding place in the ravine,
the latter from among the ruins; and the enemy,
thus seriously warned of the danger of approaching
too nigh a fortress manned by what very
naturally appeared to them eight different persons,—for
such, including the pistols, was the

number of fire-arms,—retired precipitately to the
woods, where they expressed their hostility only
by occasional whoops, and now and then by a shot
fired impotently against the ruins.

The success of this second defence, the spirited
behaviour of Dodge and Emperor, but more than
all the happy change in the principles and practice
of Nathan, who seemed as if about to prove that
he could deserve the nickname of Bloody, so long
bestowed upon him in derision, greatly relieved
the spirits of the soldier, who was not without
hopes of being able to maintain the contest until
the enemy should be discouraged and driven off,
or some providential accident bring him succour.
He took advantage of the cessation of hostilities,
to creep into the hovel and whisper words of assurance
to his feebler dependants, of whom indeed
Telie Doe now betrayed the greatest distress and
agitation, while Edith on the contrary maintained,
as he judged—for the fire was extinguished, and
he saw not her countenance—a degree of tranquility
he had not dared to hope. It was a tranquility,
however, resulting from despair and
stupor,—a lethargy of spirit, resulting from overwrought
feelings, in which she happily remained,
more than half unconscious of what was passing
around her.