University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.
MORE BRUTALITY.

In the course of a few minutes quite a number
of the besiegers had collected around the group of
which Henry and Isaline formed a part. The savages
at once entered into conversation with one
another, and each party probably gave a brief account
of what had happened to themselves since
they met. Then they seemed to hold a consultation
concerning future operations, and, judging from
their gestures, more than once took the prisoners
into consideration. At length matters seemed to be
decided, and they began to separate.

Hampton, who had been watching the Indians
closely, with a look of anxious impatience, now drew
Blodget aside.

“What is it?” he asked.

“They want me to hail the garrison with a white
flag, and say we've got a big reinforcement, and see
if I can't get them to surrender. It's of no use, I
suppose, for the thing's been tried already, by one
of the chiefs, who could speak a little English, and
he only got laughed at, and even fired at, for his
pains.”

“Of course it will be of no use,” said Hampton,

with an expression of uneasiness, “for they know
well enough we cannot carry the fort by storm, and
that before long we shall in turn be assailed by the
reinforcements they have sent for.”

“How do you know they've sent for them?”

“Because they are not natural fools, and have had
time enough to dispatch messengers in every direction.
I tell you, Blodget, we are standing on a
volcano here, and liable to be destroyed at any
minute! If these borderers catch us consorting
with their savage foes, it will be a strong rope and
short shrift for us. Why, in the name of Heaven,
don't you use all your influence and endeavor to
persuade your Indians to retire while they have a
chance, and look for their revenge and plunder in
some less guarded quarter?”

“Because I think your fears, Hampton, make you
overrate the strength of the whites and underrate
ours!” answered the other, with a quiet and provoking
smile. “It's true, I don't think offering terms
to the garrison will do any good; but, for all that,
I've no fear that they can raise any party suddenly
that can get the better of us. Let them come. We
want a few scalps at least, and that in my opinion
will be the quickest way to get them.”

“It is a devilish infatuation that has got hold of
you all, and you will soon find it out!” said Hampton.
“For my part, I wish I were a hundred miles
away!”

“I hope you're not afraid!” returned Blodget, with
a peculiar look.

The color sprung into the face of Hampton, and
he seemed on the point of making an angry and defiant
rejoinder; but he apparently controlled himself,
and said, rather coldly:

“Sir! whenever the time of trial comes, I trust I
shall conduct myself to your satisfaction! It is not
always those who boast most who prove bravest in
the hour of danger!”

“Well,” returned Blodget, “I've got no power to
alter anything; and as the Indians have laid out my
work for me, I must do it. I'll leave you and
Methoto with the prisoners; and if anything should
happen, so's you can't get off with them, why just
brain and scalp them at once, and then make tracks
for the Ohio and put for the Indian towns on the
Scioto! Methoto 'll show you the way, and I'll tell
him what to do.”

“Tell him not to meddle with the girl!” said
Hampton, quickly, with an angry flush; “for she is
under my special charge!”

“All right, if you can get her off alive; but don't
forget that her scalp will count just as much as another,
and will help to make a great man of you
among the Indians!”

Blodget now turned and said a few words to
Methoto in the Indian tongue, and the latter grunted
and nodded and glanced wickedly at Henry, who
was standing quietly within reach of him, his features

very pale, but nothing in his look to indicate
that he understood what had been said, or that he
even took any interest in what was going on around
him. Isaline too was apparently even more unconscious,
for she had taken advantage of the opportunity
to seat herself on the ground and bury her face
in her hands, and now sat there as motionless as a
statue.

One of the Indians handed Blodget a stick with
a white cloth affixed to it, and, waving it over his
head, he at once set forward down the little knoll
and through the cornfield. Some three or four
savages accompanied him a short distance, and then
took care to screen their persons as well as they
could, evidently not feeling very sure that the sacred
emblem would protect them from the bullets of their
foes.

For a minute or two Hampton paced up and down
in an impatient, angry mood; and then, as if he wished
to find some one to vent his ill-humor upon, he
turned to his hated rival and addressed him in a
sneering tone.

“How do you like the present situation of things?”
he said.

Henry looked at him, as if to be certain he was
expected to reply to the question, and then answered,
in a mild, firm tone:

“Not as well as you do probably.”

“No doubt you will like matters less one of these
fine days! It was much more pleasant for you to

insult me on the boat, while surrounded by your
bullying friends, eh?”

“I did not insult you,” returned Henry, in the
same quiet tone; “but having myself been insulted
by you, I challenged you to put your life against
mine in a fair and honorable combat.”

“You lie!” cried Hampton; “no fair and honorable
combat was intended! but only a murderous
arrangement for the sacrifice of myself!”

“The plan was not mine,” rejoined Henry, “and
in the whole matter I was governed by others. So
far as I was concerned, I was willing to have met
you in any manner satisfactory to yourself. I acted
in the affair in a way that my conscience still approves,
and even spared you after you treacherously
fired at me!”

“Who treacherously fired at you?” demanded
Hampton, fiercely.

“You did!” replied Henry, fixing his clear blue
eye steadily upon him.

“You lie!” again cried Hampton, white with rage,
and accompanying the words with a brutal blow in
the face of Henry, that drew blood and staggered
him back to where Isaline was seated, who instantly
started to her feet, with a wild scream, and threw
her arms around his neck, as if she would protect
him with her life.

“Good!” exclaimed Methoto, with a fiendish
laugh; “him big t'ief—steal gun!”

“Come, none of this — nonsense!” cried Hampton,

striding up to Isaline and roughly seizing her
by the arm. “It seems you can make your lungs
do duty fast enough whenever this scoundrel is
molested, though you want for words when a gentleman
addresses you!”

“You are a cowardly villain!” cried Isaline,
instantly facing round to Hampton with the fury of
a tigress; “for none but a cowardly villain would
strike a bound prisoner!”

“And you are his sweet defender, it seems!”
sneered Hampton. “But, come! you must go with
me, and leave him to the tender mercies of Methoto,
who has an account to settle with him!”

“I will not leave him, unless taken away by force!”
said Isaline, resolutely.

“Then I shall be compelled to use force,” returned
Hampton, again taking hold of her arm, “for go
with me you must!”

“No!” cried Isaline; “sooner with a savage! sooner
with Methoto here, who is not half the villain you
are!” She jerked her arm away from him as she
spoke, and, running up to Methoto, caught hold of
him, saying: “Protect me from that bad man! I
do not like him—I would rather go with you!”

Methoto looked at her with an air of surprise and
a gleam of satisfaction.

“Squaw girl come go Methoto?” he asked.

“Yes, yes—with you, with anybody, rather than
with him!”

“What — foolery is this?” cried Hampton,

springing forward and seizing her roughly, to drag
her away by force.

Isaline screamed and clung to Methoto.

“Do not let me go with him!” she cried; “I will
go with you!”

“Stop!” said Methoto to Hampton; “squaw girl
no go you—go me!”

“She will do nothing of the kind!” rejoined
Hampton, now furious with rage: “she is my prisoner,
and, by —, I'll have her, dead or alive!”

He was struggling to drag her away from the
white Indian, and she clinging to the latter, when
suddenly Methoto raised his first and knocked the
villain down.

Hampton jumped up, almost livid with rage, and
attempted to bring his rifle to bear upon the other;
but quick as lightning Methoto struck the piece with
his own and sent it flying, and then with his fist
again knocked Hampton down.

Some three or four of the nearest savages now
appeared upon the scene, put a peremptory stop to
the fight, and asked Methoto the cause of the quarrel.
The latter gave such explanation as suited
him; and not being able to understand or speak
their language, Hampton could neither know that
the statement was correct nor say a word in his own
favor. In all probability Methoto made it appear
that he himself was in the right and the other in the
wrong, for the Indians nodded approval to him,
frowned at Hampton, and informed the latter, by

unmistakable sings, that he must keep quiet and let
Methoto and the girl alone, or they would interfere
and bind his hands.

The foiled villain, with his face all bloody and
swollen, fairly gnashed his teeth in impotent rage,
and muttered to himself, with a wicked oath:

“I'll bide my time, and send him to the devil
before long, by —!”

Isaline still kept her place near Methoto; but she
now flushed and paled alternately, as if laboring
under some intense excitement, and trembled like
an aspen.

“This is all your devilish work!” foamed Hampton,
with a look that almost made her blood curdle;
“and the time will come when you will have to
answer for it! If you will not accept my love, by
—! I'll make you feel my hate; and as I find I
can reach you best through that cursed lover of
yours, I'll give you both a little foretaste of the future
now!”

He wheeled around to seek Henry—to perform
what wicked and cruel act we will not pretend to
say—but the next moment he fairly howled with
disappointed rage.

Henry Colburn was gone. Taking advantage of
the quarrel between the two villains left to guard
him, he had darted off through the wood, and by
this time was far enough away to render pursuit
uncertain if not useless. Only Isaline had seen him
start—he had nodded an adieu to her—and this was

the cause of those fearful emotions which had made
her frame shake and quiver and sent the blood in
dizzying waves alternately to her head and heart.

“Fool!” cried Hampton, turning fiercely toward
Methoto; “don't you see your prisoner is gone?”

The savages, who were slowly moving away,
seemed to comprehend what had occurred; and two
of them, with peculiar yells, intended perhaps to
convey the information to all within hearing and put
them on the watch, at once darted into the wood and
disappeared; but Methoto took the matter very
coolly, and made no attempt to follow.

“Why don't you go and hunt your prisoner?”
cried Hampton, almost beside himself with rage at
the turn matters had taken.

“Oogh!” grunted the other; “me stay white
squaw; you go catch.”

As no language could do justice to the almost
bursting rage of the renegade, not even a volley of
the most profane oaths, he turned away in silence
and leaned against a tree, his black heart a perfect
seething, burning hell.

Meantime the worthy bearer of the flag was approaching
the station, and the firing, yelling and
shouting had ceased on both sides. The whites were
waiting to hear what proposition was now to be
made, and the Indians were anxious to know how
their offer, through one who could perfectly speak
the English tongue, would be received.

There were some serious points for the besieged

to consider. The day was drawing to a close, the
sun being not more than half-an-hour above the
horizon; their own expected reinforeements had not
arrived; the strength of their enemies had probably
been increased, they knew not how much; night
would soon settle over the scene, and, under the
cover of darkness, the savages might press up close,
with little risk, and perhaps succeed in firing the
buildings; and all these things, taken together, had
a somewhat depressing effect; though we must do
them the justice to add, that the thought of surrender,
under any circumstances, was never for a
moment entertained.

It was easily seen from the fort that Blodget was
a white man, and an answering flag was waved to
him from one of the loop-holes. He went forward
alone, with apparent confidence, and had just reached
the point where he intended to stop and deliver his
message, when almost in an instant the whole aspect
of affairs was changed.

A single alarm halloo in the distance was instantly
repeated in twenty quarters; and then, mingling
with these sounds, came the wild, fierce shouts
of white men, and the sharp crack of rifles. Blodget
turned and fled in dismay; and the Indians flew
back into the wood, and communicated with each
other by their signal yells.

A couple of savages now rushed toward Isaline,
tomahawk in hand, with the apparent design of killing
and scalping her. She comprehended their purpose,

uttered a wild scream, and sprung behind
Methoto, who instantly interfered to save her. He
said something to them, speaking quickly and gruffly,
and they turned and darted away.

“Come!” said the white savage to her, grasping
her arm; “us run! Indian mad heap! Catch squaw
—him kill—him scalp!”

He hurried her back into the wood, and Hampton
followed, probably not wishing to lose sight of
her.

They descended into a little hollow, pushed into a
dense thicket, and stopped.

Here they heard the shouts of the whites, the yells
of the Indians, and the sharp rattle of fire-arms on
both sides.

Isaline felt faint. The fatigues and excitements
of the day, united with the most thrilling and conflicting
emotions within the last few minutes, were
beginning to overpower her. And still there were
hope and fear, and a vague, terrible uncertainty for
her. What would be the end for her, let who would
triumph? She quietly sunk down on the ground,
and buried her face in her hands.

The sounds of conflict continued—some of them
near and some quite distant—showing that there
was either more than one assailing party, or else
that the force of the whites was large enough to do
battle over a long reach of ground.

As he listened, Methoto began to grow restless.
He snuffed the air like a battle horse, grasped his

rifle firmly, fumbled with the handle of his tomahawk,
and glanced at Isaline and Hampton in a
peculiar way.

“White brave go fight?” he asked.

“No!” emphatically answered Hampton, in a
sharp, snappish tone.

“Tie squaw!” said the other, evidently meaning
that Isaline could be secured in this way during their
absence.

To this Hampton made no reply. With his now
swollen face and nearly closed eye, to keep fresh in
his recollection the manner in which his rights had
been trampled on and his fair prisoner wrested from
him, he was in no mood to talk pleasantly with
Methoto, but rather in the vein to take his life, restrained
only by prudence and policy.

For a few moments Methoto seemed to debate
with himself on the propriety of leaving the girl
alone with Hampton, doubtless fearing the latter
might run off with her; but the exciting sounds
of the conflict, with one or two triumphant yells
in the vicinity, decided him, and, with a regular
Indian whoop, he bounded away to join in the
strife.

The moment he found himself alone with Isaline,
Hampton seized her roughly by the shoulder, and,
with no gentle shake, and in a very gruff tone, said:

“Come! get up and come with me!”

Isaline suddenly lifted her white, marble face, and,
seeing no other person present, said quietly, but
firmly:

“I will not go one step with such a villain as you,
unless compelled by force!”

“By—,Miss Holcombe,” cried Hampton, fairly
trembling with passion, “don't raise the devil in me
any more to-day, or I shall do something wicked!”

“What?” said Isaline, with a proud look of scorn.

“Strike an unarmed, defenceless woman, perhaps!
Why, that would indeed be in perfect keeping with
your other brutal and cowardly acts! Thank God,”
she added, with a triumphant flush, “Henry Colburn
has escaped from your vile hands! and whatever
may be my fate, I know there will be an avenger
on my path!”

“Fool!” exclaimed Hampton; “don't you know
he has been retaken?”

“Oh, my God!” cried Isaline, clasping her hands
over her heart and feeling her brain reel. A
moment's reflection, however, convinced her the
statement was not true—for what could Hampton
know more than herself? he not having been away
from her side—and she quickly and spiritedly
added: “The assertion is as false as the tongue that
utters it! He is now among his friends, and
doubtless already fighting in the cause of right,
which will certainly triumph!”

“Well, up with you and come with me!” said the
other, fiercely.

“I will not!” returned Isaline, firmly: “I will not
stir from here, alone in your company, except compelled
by brute force!”

“You prefer the arms of the white Indian to
mine, eh?”

“Ay, or the blackest savage of them all!” rejoined
Isaline, with fiery energy. “I have no
language that can begin to express my utter loathing
and detestation of you! of you, Charles Hampton,
whom I once respected and esteemed! Nothing
ever lived on the face of the earth that I would not
prefer to you!”

“And all because, through my idolatrous worship,
I forced myself in between you and your last
lover?” he said.

“All because of your own utter baseness, in
descending from the high position you occupied
among refined and intellectual gentlemen, to consort
with the barbarians of the wilderness, turn against
your own race and color, and do the meanest acts of
the meanest coward of them all!” returned Isaline,
with sparkling eyes, and a radiant flush of righteous
indignation. “For the savages there may be some
excuse, in the barbarous manner of their bringing
up; but for you there is none whatever!”

“By—! you are a good sharp hater!” returned
the black-hearted villain, suddenly assuming
a tone and manner of the most provoking coolness;
“and you really look so beautiful in your anger,
my dear girl, that I can hardly find the heart to
wish you otherwise!”

Isaline was prepared for a fierce rejoinder, but not
for this; there was something in it so utterly devil-