CHAPTER IX.
A SUDDEN REPRIEVE.
PREPARATIONS were at once made to torture the prisoner. He was led, or pushed, forward directly toward the council-house. A rude post was soon sunk in the ground, and to this he was securely lashed.
Scarred Eagle set his teeth hard, and glanced keenly toward the rocky bluff. He had a good view of it from his perch. He could not believe the rangers were yet gone. They had not had a chance to steal away, even on the supposition that their leader had escaped from the village. They must, therefore, have noticed the arrival of the warriors with their prisoner; if so, he felt assured they would undertake something for the brave Irishman. He saw what they might do; but would they think to undertake it?
As if in answer to his thoughts, he suddenly caught glimpse of two figures gliding along the edge of the woods toward the west. The view was but momentary, but it made his gray eye flash with satisfaction. It was the first sign he had seen, telling that the rangers were on the alert since morning.
“What do now?” said the Indian girl, speaking close to his ear.
She had been watching those below them with fearful interest.
“Nothing yit, girl. But there may be a chance for us to gi’n ’em the slip soon. We must be ready.”
“Too bad—sorry!” she said, glancing through at the howling rabble about Devine. “’Fraid we can no help him. No git away ourselves till dark comes. He be burnt then.”
“The warriors don’t b’l’eve but what the rest on us ar’ well out o’ the region,” explained the other. “But two o’ the chaps ar’ workin’ round an’ I’ve no doubt’ll interrupt this work at the right minit!”
“What? You see ’em?”
“Not a minit ago. When the alarm comes we must down an’ put for the river while the rest ar’ off.”
“Then, if can, take him?”
“The Irishman—yis. I’ll look at him. It’s likely we’ll have help. Ay, they’ve begun thar deviltries!”
The fierce maledictions and threats, delivered occasionally in broken English, ceased at this moment. Standing a few feet away, a half-dozen of the more experienced warriors began to test the nerves of the victim by throwing their knives toward him. On either side of his head struck the dangerous missiles, burying themselves in the post. The Irishman never winced. Evidently he had schooled himself for the trial. Of course due care was taken not to strike him fatally, as that would have shortened his coming period of torture by fire.
Full half an hour was thus occupied, when the programme was changed by introducing hatchets. These were thrown with such skill that they were allowed to clip the straggling locks of the victim’s hair, without touching his head. But at last, either accidentally or by design, one of the performers in the game threw his weapon cutting off a portion of the victim’s ear!
The yells that now arose, proclaimed that a new feature of the torture had begun. And Scarred Eagle knew that the victim would be pierced or struck about the arms and shoulders, till he was deemed fit for the flames.
“Eh! How pale-dog like it?” inquired one of the crew as he seized Devine’s hair.
Up to this moment the latter had not uttered a word or a groan. But now, probably hoping to provoke this tormentor to finish the work at once, he managed to draw back one foot, and suddenly planted it in the fellow’s stomach, pitching him backward upon the ground!
“Dthere, ye double-dom’d haithen, do y’ur worst, so!”
Like lightning the worsted Indian sprung to his feet and rushed back with upright weapon. At this instant two rifle-reports rung out, telling with deadly effect among the crowd. And hardly had the echoes of the first ceased, when another rifle spoke from behind the council-house! Three in all, telling as many deaths.
“Now—down quickly!” was the excited command of Scarred Eagle.
Both sprung down and rushed out. By the time this was accomplished the frenzied crowd were rushing like mad devils in the direction of the shots.
“Push for the bluff!” cried Rhodan to the Indian girl; and as he spoke he sprung to the side of Devine. But the latter had already nearly got his arms loose, and one dash with Scarred Eagle’s knife completed the work.
“Och! Howly Mother—”
“Away with ye—run!”
The Irishman bounded off. As Scarred Eagle started he cast a quick glance back and saw that half a dozen of the Indians, notwithstanding the sudden confusion, had caught a glimpse of what was going on and were rushing back like a tornado. At the same moment a startling shout at his left caused him to turn his head. Two Indians had already reached the spot, having rushed up behind the council-house.
One of these had pounced upon the Indian girl, and his hatchet was already elevated, when the shout, came quickly followed by a blow so powerful that the fellow dropped to rise no more.
“Run, Moorooine—take the one after Tim, Revel—ah-ha, Rhodan, here the devils come!”
It was the voice of Brom Vail. Scarred Eagle had already raised his rifle as the young man spoke; and as the words left his lips, their rifles spoke together. The Indians involuntarily halted before the shock, while Rhodan and Brom turned like lightning and sprung toward the bluff. Revel had just felled the Indian who pursued Devine. The latter was near the bluff, the Indian girl quite near him.
“Push on!” cried Revel; and as he spoke he raised his rifle. Two reports rung out, and instinctively Scarred Eagle and Brom turned.
“Have at the devils an’ save Mace—hyar ’e comes!”
And as Scarred Eagle spoke, the three bounded toward the remaining Indians; but the latter wheeled and struck toward the forest, as a stentorian voice behind yelled:
“Spring on for y’ur lives! The hull pack o’ hellions ar’ turnin’ back!”
A few desperate springs brought them to the bluff, where, dodging behind a bowlder, they found Devine guarding the passage, the Indian girl having already entered.
Mace was the last to creep in, and he had just time to do so, and close up the passage, when a score of Indians dashed upon the rocks. As he crept on after the rest down the narrow, rugged passage, he kept filling it behind him in such a manner that it would take hours for an enemy from without to force it. And yet he could not help thinking it might be their last hiding-place on earth.
Only faint, rumbling echoes came to the ears of the fugitives as they passed to the subterranean chamber. But they had no reason to doubt the doubly enraged Miamis knew where they were concealed, and would watch them to the last extremity.
Of course, midnight darkness reigned in the chamber; but it was provided with pine torches, and one of these was soon lighted. All of them were too much excited to converse for a time. Not five minutes had elapsed since the work of torture was interrupted; and now, behold, all except Goodbrand and Hill were safe from present danger.
The arms of Brom tenderly supported the Indian girl. The Irishman had sunk down exhausted; and Scarred Eagle, warmly shaking the hands of his deliverers, was rapidly informed of their several adventures, and they then began to consult anxiously.