University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.

Curiosity induced me to follow the Indian, in order to
watch his movements. Susquesus proceeded a short distance
from the hut, quitting the knoll entirely, until he
reached lower land, where a foot-print would be most likely
to be visible, when he commenced a slow circuit of the place,
with eyes fastened on the earth, as the nose of the hound
follows the scent. I was so much interested in the Onondago's

manner, as to join him, falling-in in his rear, in
order not to interfere with his object.

Of foot-marks there were plenty, more particularly on the
low, moist ground, where we were; but they all appeared,
to me, to have no interest with the Indian. Most of our
party wore moccasins; and it was not easy to see how,
under such circumstances, and amid such a maze of impressions,
it could be possible for any one to distinguish a hostile
from a friendly trail. That Susquesus thought the thing
might be done, however, was very evident by his perseverance,
and his earnestness.

At first, my companion met with no success, or with nothing
that he fancied success; but, after making half the
circuit of the hut, keeping always a hundred yards distant
from it, he suddenly stopped; stooped quite to the earth; then
arose, and, sticking a broken knot into the ground, as a
mark, he signed to me to keep a little on one side, while he
turned at right angles to his former course, and moved inwards
towards our dwelling. I followed slowly, watching
his movements, step by step.

In this manner we reached the hut, deviating from a
direct line, in order to do so. At the hut, itself, Susquesus
made a long and minute examination; but even I could see,
that the marks here were so numerous, as to baffle even
him. After finishing his search at this point, the Indian
turned, and went back to the place where he had stuck the
knot in the ground. In doing this, however, he followed
his own trail, returning by precisely the same deviating
course as that by which he had come. This, alone, would
have satisfied me that he saw more than I did; for, to own
the truth, I could not have done the same thing.

When we reached the knot, Susquesus followed that (to
me invisible) trail outside of the circle, leading off into the
forest in a direct line from the hut and spring. I continued
near him, although neither had spoken during the whole of
this examination, which had now lasted quite half an hour.
As it was getting dark, however, and Jaap showed the signal
that our supper was ready, I thought it might be well,
at length, to break the silence.

“What do you make of all this, Trackless?” I inquired.
“Do you find any signs of a trail?”

“Good trail” — Susquesus answered; “new trail, too.
Look like Huron!”

This was startling intelligence, certainly; yet, much as I
was disposed to defer to my companion's intelligence in
such matters, in general, I thought he must be mistaken in
his fact. In the first place, though I had seen many foot-prints
near the hut, and along the low land on which the
Indian made his circuit, I could see none where we then
were. I mentioned this to the Indian, and desired him to
show me, particularly, one of the signs which had led him
to his conclusion.

“See,” said Susquesus, stooping so low as to place a
finger on the dead leaves that ever make a sort of carpet to
the forest, “here been moccasin—that heel; this toe.”

Aided, in this manner, I could discover a faint foot-print,
which might, by aid of the imagination, be thus read; though
the very slight impression that was to be traced, might
almost as well be supposed anything else, as it seemed to
me.

“I see what you mean, Susquesus; and, I allow, it may
be a foot-print,” I answered; “but then it may also have
been left by anything else, which has touched the ground
just at that spot. It may have been made by a falling
branch of a tree.”

“Where branch?” asked the Indian, quick as lightning.

“Sure enough; that is more than I can tell you. But I
cannot suppose that a Huron foot-print, without more evidence
than you now give.”

“What you call that?—this—that—t'other?” added the
Indian, stepping quickly back, and pointing to four other
similar, but very faint impressions on the leaves; “no see
him, eh?—Just leg apart, too!”

This was true enough; and now my attention was thus
directed, and my senses were thus aided, I confess I did discover
certain proofs of footsteps, that would, otherwise, have
baffled my most serious search.

“I can see what you mean, Susquesus,” I said, “and will
allow that this line of impressions, or marks, does make
them look more like footsteps. At any rate, most of our
party wear moccasins as well as the red-men, and how do

you know that some of the surveyors have not passed this
way?”

“Surveyor no make such mark. Toe turn in.”

This was true, too. But it did not follow that a foot-print
was a Huron's, merely because it was Indian. Then, where
were the enemy's warriors to come from, in so short a time
as had intervened between the late battle and the present
moment? There was little question all the forces of the
French, pale-face and red-man, had been collected at Ticonderoga
to meet the English; and the distance was so great
as almost to render it impossible for a party to reach this
spot so soon, coming from the vicinity of the fortress after
the occurrence of the late events. Did not the lake interpose
an obstacle, I might have inferred that parties of skirmishers
would be thrown on the flanks of the advancing
army, thus bringing foes within a lessened distance of us;
but, there was the lake, affording a safe approach for more
than thirty miles, and rendering the employment of any
such skirmishers useless. All this occurred to me at the
moment, and I mentioned it to my companion as an argument
against his own supposition.

“No true,” answered Susquesus, shaking his head. “That
trail—he Huron trail, too. Don't know red-man to say so.”

“But red-men are human as well as pale-faces. It must
be seventy miles from this spot to the foot of Lake George,
and your conjecture would make it necessary that a party
should have travelled that distance in less than twenty-four
hours, and be here some time before us.”

“We no travel him, eh?”

“I grant you that, Trackless; but we came a long bit of
the road in a canoe, each and all of us sleeping, and resting
ourselves, in turns. These Hurons must have come the
whole distance by land.”

“No so. Huron paddle canoe well as Onondago. Lake
there—canoe plenty. Why not come?”

“Do you suppose, Trackless, that any of the French
Indians would venture on the lake while it was covered with
our boats, as was the case last night?”

“What `our boat' good for, eh? Carry wounded warrior—carry
runaway warrior—what he care? T'ink Huron

'fraid of boat? Boat got eye, eh? Boat see; boat hear;
boat shoot, eh?”

“Perhaps not; but those who were in the boats can do
all this, and would be apt, at least, to speak to a strange
canoe.”

“Boat speak my canoe, eh? Onondago canoe, strange
canoe, too.”

All this was clear enough, when I began to reflect on it.
It was certainly possible for a canoe with two or three
paddles, to go the whole length of the lake in much less
time than we had employed in going two-thirds of the distance;
and a party landing in the vicinity of William-Henry,
could certainly have reached the spot where we then were,
several hours sooner than we had reached it ourselves. Still,
there existed all the other improbabilities on my side of the
question. It was improbable that a party should have proceeded
in precisely this manner; it was still more improbable
that such a party, coming on a war-path, from a distant
part of the country, should know exactly where to find
our hut. After a moment's pause, and while we both slowly
proceeded to join our companion, I suggested these objections
to the Onondago.

“Don't know Injin,” answered the other, betraying more
earnestness of manner than was usual with him, when he
condescended to discuss any of the usages of the tribes, with
a pale-face. “He fight first; then he want scalp. Ever
see dead horse in wood—well, no crow there, eh? Plenty
crow, isn't he? Just so, Injin. Wounded soldier carry off,
and Injin watch in wood, behind army, to get scalp. Scalp
good, after battle. Want him, very much. Wood full of
Huron, along path to Albany. Yengeese down in heart;
Huron up. Scalp so good, t'ink of nuttin' else.”

By this time we had reached the hut, where I found Guert
and Dirck already at their supper. I will own that my
appetite was not as good as it might have been, but for the
Onondago's conjectures and discoveries; though I took a
seat, and began to eat with my friends. While at the meal,
I communicated to my companions all that had passed, particularly
asking of Guert, who had a respectable knowledge
of the bush, what he thought of the probabilities of the case.

“If hostile red-skins have really been here, lately,” the

Albanian answered, “they have been throughly cunning
devils; for not an article in or about the hut has been disturbed.
I had an eye to that myself, the moment we arrived;
for I have thought it far from unlikely that the Hurons
would be out, on the road between William-Henry
and the settlements, trying to get scalps from the parties
that would be likely to be sent to the rear with wounded
officers.”

“In which case our friend Bulstrode might be in danger?”

“He must take his chance, like all of us. But, he will
probably be carried to Ravensnest, as the nearest nest for
him to nestle in. I don't half like this trail, however, Corny;
it is seldom a red-skin of the Onondago's character, makes
a mistake in such a matter!”

“It is too late, now, to do anything to-night,” Dirck observed.
“Besides, I don't think any great calamity is likely
to befall any of us, or Doortje would have dropped some
hint about it. These fortune-tellers seldom let anything
serious pass without a notice of some sort or other. You
see, Corny, we went through all this business at Ty, without
a scratch, which is so much in favour of the old woman's
being right.”

Poor Dirck! that prediction had made a deep impression
on his character, and on his future life. A man's faith must
be strong, to fancy that a negative of this nature could carry
with it any of the force of a positive, affirmative prediction.
Nevertheless, Dirck had spoken the truth, in one respect.
It was too late to do anything that night, and it only remained
to prepare to take our rest as securely as possible.

We consulted on the subject, calling on the Indian to aid
us. After talking the matter over, it was determined to remain
where we were, securing the door, and bringing everybody
within the building; for the negroes and the Indians
had been much in the habit of sleeping about, under brush-covers
that they had erected for themselves. It was thought
that, having once visited the hut, and finding it empty, the
enemy, if enemy there were, would not be very likely to
return to it immediately, and that we might consider ourselves
as comparatively safe, from that circumstance alone.
Then, there were all the chances that the trail might have

been left by friendly, instead of hostile Indians, although
Susquesus shook his head in the negative, whenever this
was mentioned. At all events, we had but a choice of three
expedients—to abandon the Patent, and seek safety in flight;
to `'camp out;' or to shut ourselves up in our fortress. Of
the first, no one thought for a moment; and of the two
others, we decided on the last, as far the most comfortable,
and, on the whole, as the safest.

An hour after we had come to this determination, I question
if either of the five knew anything about it. I never
slept more profoundly in my life, and my companions subsequently
gave the same account of their several conditions.
Fatigue, and youth, and health, gave us all refreshing sleep;
and, as we lay down at nine, two o'clock came after so
much time totally lost in the way of consciousness. I say
two o'clock; for my watch told me that was just the hour,
when the Indian awoke me, by shaking my shoulder. One
gets the habits of watchfulness in the woods, and I was on
my feet in an instant.

Dark as it was, for it was deep night, I could distinguish
that Susquesus was alone stirring, and that he had unbarred
the door of our cabin. Indeed, he passed through that open
space, into the air of the forest, the moment he perceived I
was conscious of what I was about. Without pausing to
reflect, I followed, and soon stood at his side, some fifteen
or twenty feet from the hut.

“This good place to hear,” said the Indian, in a low suppressed
tone. “Now, open ear.”

What a scene was that, which now presented itself to my
senses! I can see it, at this distance of time, after years of
peaceful happiness, and years of toil and adventure. The
morning, or it might be better to say the night, was not very
dark in itself; but the gloom of the woods being added to
the obscurity of the hour, it lent an intensity of blackness
to the trunks of the trees, that gave to each a funereal and
solemn aspect. It was impossible to see for any distance,
and the objects that were visible were only those that were
nearest at hand. Notwithstanding, one might imagine the
canopied space beneath the tops of the trees, and fancy it,
in the majesty of its gloomy vastness. Of sounds there were
literally none, when the Indian first bade me listen. The

stillness was so profound, that I thought I heard the sighing
of the night air among the upper branches of the loftier
trees. This might have been mere imagination; nevertheless,
all above the summits of the giant oaks, maples and
pines, formed a sort of upper world as regarded us; a world
with which we had little communication, during our sojourn
in the woods below. The raven, and the eagle, and the
hawk, sailed in that region, above the clouds of leaves beneath
them, and occasionally stooped, perhaps, to strike
their quarry; but, to all else, it was inaccessible, and to a
degree invisible.

But, my present concern is with the world I was in; and,
what a world it was! Solemn, silent, dark, vast and mysterious.
I listened in vain, to catch the footstep of some busy
squirrel, for the forest was alive with the smaller animals,
by night quite as much as by day; but everything, at that
moment, seemed stilled to the silence of death.

“I can hear nothing, Trackless,” I whispered—“Why
are you out here?”

“You hear, soon—wake me up, and I hear twice. Soon
come ag'in.”

It did soon come again. It was a human cry, escaping
from human lips in their agony! I heard it once only; but,
should I live to be a hundred, it would not be forgotten. I
often hear it in my sleep, and twenty times have I awoke
since, fancying that agonizing call was in my ears. It was
long, loud, piercing, and the word `help' was as distinct as
tongue could make it.

“Great God!” I exclaimed—“some one is set upon, and
calls for aid in his extremity. Let us arouse our friends,
and go to his assistance. I cannot remain here, Susquesus,
with such a cry in my ears.”

“Best go, t'ink too,” answered the Onondago. “No need
call, though; two better than four. Stop minute.”

I did remain stationary that brief space, listening with
agonized uncertainty, while the Indian entered the hut, and
returned, bringing out his rifle and my own. Arming ourselves,
and shutting the door of the cabin, to exclude the
night-air, at least, Susquesus led off, with his noiseless step,
in a south-west direction, or that in which we had heard
the sound.

Our march was too swift and earnest to admit of discourse.
The Onondago had admonished me to make as
little noise as possible; and, between the anxiety I felt, and
the care taken to comply, there was, indeed, but little opportunity
for conversing. My feelings were wrought up to
a high pitch; but my confidence in my companion being
great, I followed in his footsteps, as diligently as my skill
would allow. Susquesus rather trod on air than walked;
yet I kept close at his heels, until we had gone, as I should
think, fully half a mile in the direction from which that
awful cry had come. Here Susquesus halted, saying to me,
in a low voice—

“No far from here—best stop.”

I submitted, in all things, to the directions of my Indian
guide. The latter had selected the dark shadows of two or
three young pines for our cover, where, by getting within
their low branches, we were completely concealed from any
eye that was distant from us eight or ten feet. No sooner
were we thus posted, than the Onondago pointed to the trunk
of a fallen tree, and we took our seats silently on it. I observed
that my companion kept his thumb on the cock of
his rifle, while his fore-finger was passed around the trigger.
It is scarcely necessary to say that I observed the same
precaution.

“This good,” said Susquesus, in a voice so low and soft
that it could not attract more attention than a whisper;
“this very good—hear him ag'in, soon; then know.”

A stifled groan was heard, and that almost as soon as my
companion ceased to speak. I felt my blood curdle at these
frightful evidences of human suffering; and an impulse of
humanity caused me to move, as if about to rise. The hand
of Trackless checked the imprudence.

“No good,” he said, sternly. “Sit still. Warrior know
how to sit still.”

“But, Heavenly Providence! There is some one in
agony, quite near us, man. Did you not hear a groan,
Trackless?”

“To be sure, hear him.—What of that? Pain make
groan come, alway, from pale-face.”

“You think, then, it is a white-man who suffers? if so, it

must be one of our party, as there is no one else near us.
If I hear it again, I must go to his relief, Onondago.”

“Why you behave like squaw? What of little groan?
Sartain, he pale-face; Injin never groan on war-path. Why
he groan, you t'ink? Cause Huron meet him. That reason
he groan. You groan, too, no sit still. Injin know time to
shoot—know time not to shoot.”

I had every disposition to call aloud, to inquire who
needed succour; yet the admonitions of my companion,
aided as they were by the gloomy mysteries of that vast
forest, in the hour of deepest night, enabled me to command
the impulse. Three times, notwithstanding, was that groan
repeated; and, as it appeared to me, each time more and
more faintly. I thought, too, when all was still in the
forest—when we sat ourselves in breathless expectation of
what might next reach our ears—attentive to each sighing
of the night-air, and distrustful even of the rustling leaf—
that the last groan of all, though certainly the faintest of
any we had heard, was much the nearest. Once, indeed, I
heard, or fancied I heard, the word `water,' murmured in a
low, smothered tone, almost in my ear. I thought, too, I
knew the voice; that it was familiar to me; though I could
not decide, in the state of my feelings, exactly to whom it
belonged.

In this manner we passed what, to me, were two of the
most painful hours of my life, waiting the slow return of
light. My own impatience was nearly ungovernable;
though the Indian sat, the whole of that time, seemingly as
insensible as the long which formed his seat, and almost as
motionless. At length this intensely anxious, and even
physically painful watch, drew near its end. Signs of day
gleamed through the canopy of leaves, and the rays of dull
light appeared to struggle downward, rendering objects
dimly discernible.

It was not long ere we could ascertain that we had so
completely covered ourselves, as to be in a position where
the branches of the pines completely shut out the view of
objects beyond. This was favourable to reconnoitring,
however, previously to quitting our concealment, and enabled
us to have some care of ourselves while attending to the
duties of humanity.

Susquesus used the greatest caution in looking around
before he left the cover. I was close at his side, peeping
through such openings as offered; for my curiosity was so
intense, that I almost forgot the causes for apprhension. It
was not long before I heard the familiar Indian interjection,
“hugh!” from my companion; a proof that something had
caught his eye, of a more than ordinarily exciting character.
He pointed in the way I was to look, and there, indeed, I
beheld one of those frightful instances of barbarous cruelty,
that the usages of savage warfare have sanctioned, as far
back as our histories extend, among the forest warriors of
this continent. The tops of two saplings had been brought
down near each other, by main force, the victim's hands
attached firmly to upper branches of each, and the trees permitted
to fly back to their natural positions, or as near them
as the revolting means of junction would allow. I could
scarce believe my senses, when my sight first revealed the
truth. But there hung the victim, suspended by his arms,
at an elevation of at least ten or fifteen feet from the earth.
I confess I sincerely hoped he was dead, and the motionless
attitude of the body gave me reason to think it might be so.
Still, the cries for “help,” uttered wildly, hopelessly, in the
midst of a vast and vacant forest, the groans extorted by
suffering, must have been his. He had probably been thus
suspended and abandoned, while alive!

Even the Onondago could not restrain me, after I fully
saw and understood the nature of the cruelty which had
been exercised on the miserable victim who was thus suspended
directly before my eyes, and I broke out of the cover,
ready, I am willing to confess, to pull trigger on the first
hostile red-man I saw. Fortunately for myself, most probably,
the place had long been deserted. As the back of
the sufferer was towards me, I could not tell who he was;
but his dress was coarse, and of the description that belongs
to the lowest class. Blood had flowed freely from his head,
and I made no doubt he had been scalped; though the
height at which he hung, and the manner in which his head
had fallen forward upon his breast, prevented me from ascertaining
the fact at once, by the aid of sight. Thus much
did I perceive, however, ere the Indian joined me.

“See!” said Susquesus, whose quick eye never let anything
escape it long, “told you so; Huron been here.”

As this was said, the Indian pointed significantly at the
naked skin, which was visible between the heavy, coarse
shoes of the victim, and the trowsers he wore, when I discovered
it was black. Moving quickly in front, so as to get
a view of the face, I recognised the distorted features of
Petrus, or Pete, Guert Ten Eyck's negro. This man had
been left with the surveyors, it will be remembered, and he
had either fallen into the hands of his captors, while at the
hut, engaged in his ordinary duties, or he had been met in
the forest while going to, or coming from those he served,
and had thus been treated. We never ascertained the facts,
which remain in doubt to this hour.

“Give me your tomahawk, Trackless,” I cried, as soon
as horror would permit me to speak, “that I may cut down
this sapling, and liberate the unfortunate creature!”

“No good—better so,” answered the Indian. “Bear—
wolf can't get him, now. Let black-skin hang—good as
bury—no safe stay here long. Look round and count
Huron, then go.”

“Look round and count the Hurons,” I thought to myself;
“and in what manner is this to be done?” By this
time, however, it was sufficiently light to see foot-prints, if
any there were, and the Onondago set about examining
such traces of what had passed at that terrible spot, as
might be intelligible to one of his experience.

At the foot of a huge oak, that grew a few yards from
the fatal saplings, we found the two wooden, covered pails,
in which we knew Pete had been accustomed to carry food
to Mr. Traverse and the chain-bearers. They were empty,
but whether the provisions they unquestionably had contained
fell to the share of those for whom they were intended,
or to that of the captors, we never learned. No traces of
bones, potato-skins, or other fragments were discovered;
and, if the Hurons had seized the provisions, they doubtless
transferred them to their own repositories, without stopping
to eat. Susquesus detected proof that the victim had been
seated at the foot of the oak, and that he had been seized at
that spot. There were the marks of many feet there, and
some proofs of a slight scuffle. Blood, too, was to be traced

on the leaves, from the foot of the oak, to the place where
poor Pete was suspended; a proof that he had been hurt,
previously to being abandoned to his cruel fate.

But the point of most interest with Trackless was to ascertain
the number of our foes. This might be done, in some
measure, according to his view of the matter, by means of
the foot-prints. There was no want of such signs, the leaves
being much disturbed in places, though after a short but
anxious search, my companion thought it wisest to repair to
the hut, lest those it contained might be surprised in their
sleep. He gave me to understand that the enemy did not
appear to be numerous at that spot, three or four at most,
though it was quite possible, nay highly probable, that they
had separated, and that their whole force was not present at
this miserable scene.

It was broad daylight when we came in sight of the hut
again, and I perceived Jaap was up and busy with his pots
and kettles near the spring. No one else was visible, and
we inferred that Guert and Dirck were still on their pallets.
We took a long and distrustful survey of the forest around
the cabin, from the height where we stood, ere we ventured
to approach it any nearer. Discovering no signs of danger,
and the forest being quite clear of underbrush or cover of
any sort, large trees excepted, for some distance from the
hut, we then advanced without apprehension. This open
character of the woods near our dwelling was felt to be a
very favourable circumstance, rendering it impossible for an
enemy to get very near us by day-light, without being seen.
It was owing to the fact that we had used so much of the
smaller timber, in our own operations, while the negroes
had burned most of the underbrush for fuel.

Sure enough, I found my two friends fast asleep, and
certainly much exposed. When aroused and told all that
had occurred to me and the Indian, their surprise was great,
nor was their horror less. Jaap, who, missing us on rising,
supposed we had gone in pursuit of game, had followed us
into the hut, and heard my communications. His indignation
was great, at the idea of one of his own colour's being
thus treated, and I heard him vowing vengeance between
his set teeth, in terms that were by no means measured.

“By St. Nicholas!” exclaimed Guert, who had now

finished dressing, and who accompanied me out into the
open air, “my poor fellow shall be revenged, if the rifle will
do it! Scalped, too, do you say, Corny?”

“As far as we could ascertain, suspended as he was from
the tree. But, scalped he must be, as an Indian never permits
a dead captive to escape this mutilation.”

“And you have been out in the forest three hours, you
tell me, Corny?—You and Trackless?”

“About that time, I should judge. The heart must have
been of stone, that could resist those cries!”

“I do not blame you, Littlepage, though it would have
been kinder, and wiser, had you taken your friends with
you. We must stick together, in future, let what may
happen. Poor Petrus! I wonder Doortje should have
hinted nothing of that nigger's fate!”

We then held a long consultation on the subject of our
mode of proceeding, next. It is unnecessary to dwell on
this conference, as its conclusions will be seen in the events
of the narrative; but it was brought to a close by a very
sudden interruption, and that was the sound of an axe in the
forest. The blows came in the direction of the scene of
Pete's murder, and we had collected our rifles, and were
preparing to move towards the suspected point, when we
saw Jaap staggering along, coming to the hut, beneath the
load of his friend's body. The fellow had stolen away, unseen,
on this pious duty, and had executed it with success.
In a minute or two he reached the spring, and began to
wash away the revolting remains of the massacre from the
head of the Huron's victim.

We now ascertained that poor Pete had been badly cut
by knives, as well as scalped, and suspended in the manner
related. Both arms appeared to be dislocated, and the only
relief to our feelings, was in the hope that an attempt to inflict
so much suffering must have soon defeated itself. Guert,
in particular, expressed his hope that such was the case,
though the awful sounds of the past night were still too fresh
in my ears to enable me to believe all I could wish on that
subject. A grave was dug, and we buried the body at once,
rolling a large log or two on the spot, in order to prevent
wild beasts from disinterring it. Jaap worked hard in the
performance of these rites, and Guert Ten Eyck actually

repeated the Lord's Prayer and the Creed over the grave,
when the body was placed in it, with a fervour and earnestness
that a little surprised me.

“He was but a nigger, Corny, it is true,” said the Albanian,
a little apologetically perhaps, after all was over, “but
he was a very goot nigger, in the first place; then, he had
a soul, as well as a white man—Pete had his merits, as well
as a Tominie, and I trust they will not be forgotten in the
last great account. He was an excellent cook, as you must
have seen, and I never knew a nigger that had more of the
dog-like fidelity to his master. The fellow never got into
a frolic without coming honestly to ask leave; though, to be
sure, I was not a hard master, in these particulars, on reasonable
occasions.”

We next ate our breakfasts, with as much appetite as we
could. Shouldering our packs, and placing all around, and
in the hut, as much as possible in the condition in which we
had found the place, we then commenced our march, Susquesus
leading, as usual.

We went in quest of the surveyors, who were supposed
to be in the south-east corner of the Patent, employed as
usual, and ignorant of all that had passed. At first, we
had thought of discharging our rifles, as signals to bring
them in; but these signals might apprize our enemies, as
well as our friends, of our presence, and the distance was
too great, moreover, to render it probable the reports could
be heard by those for whom alone they would be intended.

The route we took was determined by our general knowledge
of the quarter of the Patent in which the surveyors
ought now to be, as well as by the direction in which the
body of Pete had been found. The poor fellow was certainly
either going to, or coming from the party, and being
in constant communication with them, he doubtless knew
where they were at work. Then the different trails of
the surveyors were easily enough found by Trackless, and
he told us that the most recent led off in the direction I have
named. Towards the south-east, therefore, we held our
way, marching, as before, in Indian file; the Onondago
leading, and the negro bringing up the rear.