University of Virginia Library

26. CHAPTER XXVI.
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.

The sun had set, and the first shadows of the
coming night were beginning to steal over the forest,
when the Indians came to a halt in a wild, romantic
spot, on the bank of a little stream, and prepared to
encamp. It was now that Methoto, in a careless
manner, rode up along side of the warrior having
charge of Isaline, and said, in a quiet, ordinary tone:

“Does my brother think this a safe place for our
night-camp?”

“Does the Buffalo know of any danger?” asked
the other.

“No! but would it not be safer on higher ground?”
queried Methoto.

“Our scouts can pass the night on the surrounding
hills!” observed the savage.

“Waralothe is wise!” rejoined Methoto; “and if
he thinks it safe here, the Buffalo is content. A fine
horse Waralothe has under him!” he pursued, riding
up still closer and patting the beast on the neck;
“he carries two as if they were but one.”

The Indian grunted assent, and slid down from
his back, on the side furthest from Methoto. At the
same moment the white savage glanced quickly

around him and saw that the other Indians had all
dismounted. Some were near him, but the majority
were several yards distant. Then it was that Methoto
acted with remarkable quickness and decision.
Suddenly throwing his right arm around Isaline,
just as her guard was about to take hold of her, he
drew her to him, with the power of a giant, and,
striking his high-spirited animal and giving a loud
yell, dashed suddenly away. Isaline uttered a wild
scream of terror; and the savages, the instant they
comprehended the audacious truth, also gave loud
vent to their rage, discharged some of their pieces at
random, and sprung after the flying fugitives, some
remounting their horses and some running on foot.

They might as well have followed the wind.
Methoto rode for life, and night soon came on to
put an end to the vain pursuit. One by one the
warriors returned, angry and sullen.

Blodget was so enraged at the loss of the girl and
the triumph of his foe, that he threw himself down
on the ground, rolled and howled, and then got up
and beat Hampton with his fists till he was tired.
Then he cut a stout switch, and was proceeding to
serve Henry still worse, when the whole camp was
startled with that strange, wild, prolonged, quavering
shriek so often heard before. It did not appear
to be far distant, for it was loud and shrill, and
seemed to be floating in the air, so that some of the
superstitious and awe-struck warriors looked up,
half expecting to see the Evil Spirit in a terrible

form. It was three times repeated, and then all became
still, till the howling of a few wolves broke the
gloomy silence. Blodget threw down his stick,
walked away, and sat down, looking pale and
frightened.

“Did not our assembled wisdom decide that whoever
should harm the white squaw should himself
come to harm?” observed one of the chiefs, with a
superstitious solemnity. “One ran off with her,
perhaps for evil, and the watching-spirit sent him
back to our hands a prisoner. Now Methoto has
gone, but let us not envy his fate!”

Ah! how was it with poor Henry, when he found
that Isaline had been carried off by that terrible
being who in his wild passions he fancied was more
to be dreaded than the native savages? And he to
see her go, and hear her shriek for help, and yet remain
a bound and helpless prisoner, without even
the feeble consolation of being able to start in pursuit!
When we sometimes learn of great calamities
bringing suddenly the most crushing weight of
grief and misery upon a single human being, we
wonder how the awfully afflicted individual can bear
up under it and live; but we must consider that the
God of Nature has kindly provided for this by a
stupefaction of the senses. As only a certain
amount of physical pain can be borne without that
loss of consciousness which deprives the patient of
sensible suffering, so also of mental anguish. To
the first keen, piercing pang, there often succeeds

a dull, heavy stupor, which saves the sufferer from
insanity and death. It was thus with Henry Colburn
in the present instance. At first he felt as if
he must shriek out his very life—as if his very soul
must tear asunder its bonds of clay and be free—
and then a dull, heavy stupor stole over him; and
he lived on, with a dim comprehension of the horrible
truth—with a sense of some great misery weighing
him down—but, along with this, an irresistible
desire to put aside all thought, and sleep, and be at
rest forever more.

The Indians did not now feel altogether safe where
they were, and set a strong guard on the hills around
their camp. The night, however, passed away without
anything to excite fresh alarm. The wolves
howled around them more or less, it is true; and
there were other gloomy sounds, belonging to the
forest; but these were not the things to keep the
warriors from their sleep. Most of them slept
soundly. So also, strange as it might seem but for
our explanation, did Henry, though painfully bound,
and in the midst of his foes, with the being he loved
above all others in the hands of a wretch capable of
the most terrible crimes. Rough Tom, too, slept
some; but he often awoke with a start, and cursed
the bonds that kept him from an attempt at freedom.
As for Hampton, he scarcely closed his eyes.
Wearied, bound and bruised, with aches and pains
all over him and a hell within, with the consciousness
that he was ruined, and that all he suffered had

been brought upon himself by his own wicked plans
and deeds, he was now experiencing some of the torments
he so richly deserved.

At the first streak of day Blodget roused the
Indians and harangued them. He set forth, with
all the eloquence of which he was master, the
heinousness of Methoto's offence in deserting them
and carrying off their fair prisoner, said they would
be forever disgraced if they permitted him to escape,
and begged that a part of them at least might be
sent with himself in pursuit of the treacherous villain.
He was warmly opposed by some and as
warmly seconded by others. The more prudent
thought the risk of dividing their small force too
great for the purpose to be gained, even should
success attend their efforts, which was more than
doubtful; that, being in the country of the enemy,
from whom they had won so much glory and
plunder, they ought to be contented with what they
had and push forward and cross the Ohio as soon as
possible—more especially as they were leaving a
broad trail behind them, and might still be rapidly
pursued by overwhelming numbers. Under any
other circumstances, Blodget would have been the
last to urge pursuit and incur the delay and peril
which must attend it; but now he was too insane on
that one point to reason with his usual shrewdness
and cunning. He had set his heart upon having
Isaline at any cost; and he could not endure the
thought that she was not only lost to him, but that

he had been robbed of her by one he had already
begun to hate, and who would in effect triumph
over him by her possession. So he continued to
urge and plead, assisted by some of the fiercest and
boldest spirits, till at last he had the satisfaction of
finding his request granted, though with great reluctance
and much warning.

Six of the best and bravest warriors were selected
to accompany Blodget; and as soon as the morning
repast was over, they were ready to bid adieu to
their comrades and set out on their uncertain and
perilous venture. Before he left, Blodget went to
each of the prisoners—for such was the meanness
of his nature that he could not bear to part from
them without a few annoying and tantalizing words.

“My dear fellow,” he said to Hampton, with mock
sympathy, “you're looking rather the worse for
wear! I am inclined to fear you didn't rest well
last night!”

“I did not sleep at all!” groaned the haggard
villain.

“Strange!” said Blodget, with a sorrowful air;
“and I'm at a loss to account for it. It could not
have been the bed, for where could you find a
better? You really must have had something on
your mind! Well, cheer up! You're going home
among your friends, you know, and they'll take
such tender care of you. I'm sorry I've got to
leave you; but the fact is, I'm going after the girl;
and when I get her back, and get her home, we'll

have such a wedding! and something hot to cheer
you, for I know you must be fond of something hot!
There, my good fellow, I know what you'd say, for
I can see you're brimful of gratitude; but no thanks,
I beg of you—no thanks!”

“Mr. Blodget,” said Hampton, with a groan, and
in a pleading tone, “I know you are a gentleman
not devoid of kindness; and now that I have been
so severely punished, will you not forgive me—at
least a little—and loosen these cords that are cutting
into my wrists?”

“Shall I loosen the other prisoners' too? or only
yours?” asked Blodget, with a sly twinkle of his
dull, leaden eyes.

“Only mine, Mr. Blodget—only mine!” answered
Hampton.

“You don't care for the others then, do you?”

“No, I don't care how much they suffer, for they
deserve it!”

“Their cords don't hurt you any, do they?”
grinned the decoy.

“No, not in the least.”

“Well,” rejoined Blodget, yours don't hurt me
any; and so why should I care more for you than
you do for the others? You're a clever fellow,
Hampton; but I'm afraid you're too selfish, and
lack Christian charity. By-by! and don't forget to
say your prayers!”

As Blodget coolly and mercilessly turned away
to the next, Hampton fairly gnashed his teeth in
helpless rage.

Henry, as we have said, had slept heavily through
the night, owing to the stupor brought on by his
overwhelming grief; but with the full return of consciousness,
came back a full sense of his misery, and
his mental sufferings no pen or tongue may ever
portray. Pale, haggard and crushed, he was sitting
with his head dropped upon his breast when Blodget
came up and addressed him.

“Well, my friend, how fare matters with you?”
said that devilish villain, seizing him by the hair
and bringing the head back with a jerk. “Ah!
laughing, I see, as usual. You were so amused
when Methoto ran off with your girl, that I was
afraid you'd kill yourself with laughter, and you
haven't got over it yet I find. Capital, wasn't it?
For your sake I'm almost tempted to let him go—
for no doubt the two of them will have a delightful
time together, and I'd like to do all I can to please
you; but unfortunately I want the girl myself, for
we're engaged to be married, and so I'm going to
seek her. I can't bear to leave you, for I'm afraid
you won't get on well without me; but then I hope
to get through in time to overtake you before you
get to our village. In case I shouldn't, however, I'll
see you there, and you shall dance at my wedding.
By-by, my dear friend—by-by—and I'll tell the
sweet girl you sent her a kiss, and give it to her for
you!”

While this devil was speaking, Henry strove to
keep down his temper and appear unmoved, well

knowing how worse than useless it would be to
show anger and so increase the triumph of his deadly
foe; but Blodget's allusions to poor Isaline almost
drove him mad; and in spite of all the Stoical philosophy
he could bring to his aid, his face grew pale
and red by turns, his ashy lips quivered, the veins
on his forehead swelled and stood out like whipcords,
and large beads of perspiration gathered all
over his agonized features. Had Blodget continued
his tortures, he might have driven him insane; and
had Henry's hands been free, it is more than probable
he would have struck the villain dead at his
feet. All this Blodget saw and understood; and
though he rejoiced in the tortures he inflicted, it was
no part of his scheme to overthrow his victim's
reason—for then he would be beyond his power of
tormenting, and an object of commiseration with the
Indians—who, barbarous as they were, superstitiously
respected what they believed the Great Spirit
had touched; and besides, he felt that he had no more
time to waste. He therefore turned to the rough
woodman—who, having heard his remarks to the
others, and especially to Henry, was trying to keep
his rage concealed and appear indifferent—and said,
with something perhaps of sincerity:

“Tom, I'm going to leave you for a while, to try
and see if I can catch that devil Methoto and get
back the girl; but I have told the Indians to let up
on you as much as they safely can, and not treat you
too harshly. I think your hands are tied rather

tighter than they need be, and you needn't be surprised
if your captors loosen them a little.”

“Thank'e!” answered Tom; “and I'm not the nigger
to forgit all your kindness. I hopes you'll git
the gal and fotch her back safe, and guv that devil as
tuk her what he oughter hev!”

The last sentence at least was sincerely spoken—
for the return of Isaline, even as the prisoner of such
a villain as Blodget, was in Tom's opinion a less
cruel doom for her than being left alone in the hands
of such a human beast as Methoto; and moreover
there seemed a possibility that he might sooner or
later effect his escape; and if she were known to
be with the Indians, she should be rescued, if it were
to take half the men in Kentucky to do it.

“I'll have the girl yet!” said Blodget, with a
braggart air; “and what's more, I'll wash my hands
in the heart's blood of her captor!”

With this he strode off proudly, and joined the
Indians who were to accompany him; and, shortly
after, the prisoners saw the party for the uncertain
venture glide off through the forest and disappear.

“Oh, my God! my God!” groaned Henry, as he
still sat with his head bowed to his breast; “how
much can a human being endure and live? At what
point of unspeakable woe does the heart break or
reason desert her throne?”

“Never say die, my brave friend!” returned Tom,
in a low tone; “thar'll so'thing turn up yit. The
Devil haint got everything his own way yit, or else
whar's the use? No, sir! Woofh!”