CHAPTER VIII.
TECUMSEH.
THE body of the wounded man was carefully borne to the surface, and the young soldier, with a cry like a wolf seizing his young, lifted the beloved form in his arms, carried it out of the stockade and laid it upon the grass outside. The old man breathed heavily, and Floyd looked up with hope imprinted on every line of his young face. But, the Yankee was downcast in expression, and stood leaning against the wall of the stockade, at times striking his hand against it.
"Bring water, boys," cried Floyd, anxiously. "Water, water."
Two of the men hurried down to the spring with their canteens and brought them up full. The captain took one of these and washed the ghastly wound upon the skull and showed that it was fractured.
"Oh, heaven," cried the son. "My father, my dear father. Was it for this that I left you last night, to find you here, murdered by the hand of brutal savages? But he lives; you can see that, Seth. A little care might save him."
"Oh, he'll live fast enough," said Seth, gloomily. "It isn't that. I've seen that kind of a hurt afore and they ain't no good. Let me see what I can do, and while I am doing it, yew go and look arter the gal."
Floyd started up eagerly and hurried away, while the Yankee kneeled at the side of the wounded man, and looked at the wound, shaking his head. "'Twill be a pity for him if he does live, poor man," he muttered. "In course he'll be crazy while the bone presses down into the brain that way. Poor old man; I'd do any thing to save him, but I daren't touch that wound. It looks a little tew bad fur me to handle. Thar; he's coming round."
As he spoke, the eyes of the old man opened slowly and he stared vaguely about him like one in a dream. Seth tapped his forehead significantly and pointed at him, and the men understood. "Cracked," muttered the scout. "I know'd how it would be. Thar, old man. How dew yew feel?"
"Why don't you stop that horrible noise there?" demanded Floyd, angrily. "I won't have it in my house, you know. Silence, and listen to my orders at once."
"That's right, captaing. If any of them refuse to obey, you'd better order him forty lashes."
"What does he grin at me for?" cried the wounded man, starting to his feet. "What does he mean by it? Does he know that I am master here?"
"Of course he does," replied the Yankee, quietly. "He won't be quiet unless he gets forty lashes, I'm afraid."
"I don't know what's the matter with my head," said the old man, gravely, putting his hand up. "Didn't I fall somewhere?"
"Oh, yes," replied Seth. "You fell into the cellar. Don't you remember?"
"I believe you are right," said the captain, looking fixedly at the blood upon his hand. "Look at this now; my hand is exactly the color of a fellow I had some trouble with this morning, and I was forced to shoot him. I didn't like to do it, but I had to. Then I fell down and hurt my head, and it feels rather light."
"Yes, that fellow won't trouble you any more. Here is your son coming. Don't let him know that yure head is light or it will make him feel badly."
"He looks like a boy of mine," replied the demented man, looking at his son, who was approaching rapidly, overjoyed at seeing his father on his feet, although he had found no trace of his affianced. He ran to his father and took his hand eagerly.
"My dear father, you can not tell how overjoyed I am to find you so little injured."
"There, there," cried his father, pushing him back with his left hand. "I think you are getting too familiar."
"Father!"
"I allow no liberties taken with me, young man. I killed a red fellow this morning for this. By the way, do you know that I would like to get very drunk to-day in honor of the conjunction of the planets in their separate orbits? Venus is a particular friend of mine. I met her at a ball. No—where did I meet her? Where did you get that hat?"
"Seth, what does this mean? I do not understand this. Why does he act so strangely?"
"That is the funniest hat, as I'm alive," said the old man, laughing. "Why will you wear such an absurd thing, young man? I wish you would take pattern by me."
"Father, where is Madge?"
"Madge? Who is Madge? Oh yes, I know. A little rosy-cheeked creature that used to live here, on sufferance, mind you! Well, a red fellow came along yesterday—was it yesterday?—I don't remember exactly—and I gave her to him. She was no manner of use to me, so I thought I might as well part with her, as the red fellow really seemed to want her."
A look of agony came into the face of the young man. "This is horrible. He demented and can give us no information in regard to my dear Madge. What shall we do?"
"He must be sent down the river at once, for a doctor is what he wants. But, I don't see how it can be done. The woods are full of Indians."
"Let the Dead Chief speak," said the Pottawatomie, advancing. "Let me take him to my lodge, and the young war-chief can bring the medicine-man to my lodge. The Gray Hair would not live to go to Vincennes."
"I believe the chief is right," said Floyd. "Oh, my poor father, how it grieves me that you should be reduced to this piteous state."
"I would like to know what all this talk is about," said the old man. "I don't understand you at all. What does this man want?"
"Come and dwell in the wigwam of the Dead Chief," said the Pottawatomie.
"I really feel obliged to you, but I have so much business."
"You may make a good trade if you go there," said Floyd, though it made his heart ache to aid in deceiving his father. "We think you ought not to have given Madge to that red fellow you speak of. Which way did he take her?"
"How should I know? I fell into the cellar before she went away, and hurt my head. Well, if he cheated me, then the bargain is off. I'll go with this other red fellow and see about it."
They found a canoe at the landing, put him in it, and, with the chief and two of the dragoons for a guard, he set off up the river, while his son, affected almost to tears by his melancholy state, stood upon the bank watching him until he disappeared around a bend in the river. As he turned away they heard an ominous sound among the men, and the click of pistol-locks, as an Indian came out of the woods and advanced into their midst. A man of large size, with a lofty and commanding appearance, richly dressed for an Indian, and wearing a wampum-belt which denoted a chief of great rank. Half a dozen pistols were leveled, knives were half drawn from their sheaths, and the threatening murmur was deepening, when Yankee Seth threw himself between the weapons and the chief.
"What yew going tew dew? Don't yew know the great sachem? It is Tecumseh!"
"TECUMSEH!"
The leveled weapons were dropped in an instant, and every one looked at the commanding figure of the chief, as he gazed in evident surprise at their hostile attitude.
"What is this?" he cried. "Do they level their weapons against the heart of so great a chief as Tecumseh when he comes to them with open hands?"
A louder murmur rose as the rangers pressed in upon him. "He is the chief." "No, no, do not harm Tecumseh." "He knows all about this villainy, and at least can punish the red devils who did it."
In the midst of all the chief stood firm, his eyes fixed upon the swaying mass of the rangers, flashing angrily at their attitude toward him. Once or twice his hand strayed to the hilt of a weapon, and he half drew it from its sheath, but the Yankee threw forward his rifle.
"Neow, see here, men. I'm a plain sort of feller, and I talk plain tew. Look eout what yew dew, fur, as sure as yew take a step tew hurt the chief, yew git me in yure ha'r! He cum among us in good faith, and by vum he shall go away safe."
"Down with your guns, men! What one among you has suffered greater wrong at the hands of the Indians than I have? The chief is innocent of all this bloodshed, I fully believe. Tecumseh, you have come among us in a bad time. Do you see yonder smoking ruins, and can you tell whose hands did the fatal deed? I warn you that I am not in a good temper to-day, but for all that I would not see wrong done you."
"The heart of Tecumseh is very sad," said the chief, laying his hand upon his broad breast, "for he sees the desolation about the home of his brother. Who has done this?"
"The men of Elskwatawa, led by Willimack the Wyandot," replied the young soldier. "Stand fast, men. Chief, come with me."
He led Tecumseh to the place where the bodies lay beneath the blankets, and throwing back the cloth from them, showed the gashed and gory faces of the dead. Tecumseh started back in evident surprise, not unmixed with anger.
"Listen, Floyd. Tecumthè[2] is above a lie. If by my hand these men were slain, or y my orders, I would not lie to save my life. If my brother's hand has done this deed, he is to blame, and is not the power among the tribes I thought him. Where is the Gray Hair?"
"He was stricken down by the blow of a hatchet, and has lost his mind."
"The Gray Hair never did any thing but good to the Indians. Why should they do him wrong? Where is Bright Eyes, the light of the Wabash?"
"She has been taken prisoner by the chief, Willimack," replied Floyd.
"Willimack is no friend of Tecumthè, although the Prophet loves him. You saw him, in the council-house at Vincennes, point his pistol at the breast of Tecumthè. He is a dog, and one day I will have him hung up in the center of the Shawnee village, because he is a traitor both to red and white men. Where has the Gray Hair gone?"
"The Dead Chief has taken him to his lodge. He will return soon."
A dark cloud passed over the face of the sachem as he heard the name of the great chief of the Pottawatomies. He hated him because he had denounced him to Harrison, and offered to do it in the face of the whole tribe.
"The Dead Chief is no friend to the white men," he said.
"You are wrong, Tecumseh. The chief is our firm friend, and says that because he is, you have ordered him to be slain."
Tecumseh did not deny this, but a look of terrible anger passed over his face, and his hand closed upon the hilt of his knife.
"We shall see whether the Dead Chief can make Tecumthè a dog," he said, savagely. "Then, listen: here above these dead men, I swear by the bones of my fathers that I had no part in their death, and that these are dogs who have slain them. Tecumthè has spoken."
"I believe yew, chief," said the Yankee, who had come up unobserved. "Yew are innercent, as fur as these murders are consarned. I believe my soul you mean fight, but yew'll fight fa'r, not murder wimmin and childern."
Tecumseh looked furtively at the Yankee, evidently studying him closely.
"You came between the pistols and Tecumthè," he said. "Why did you do it?"
"Oh, I like fair play, yew know! I always did, as fur as that goes."
"Tecumthè thanks you, and perhaps some day it may be in his power to give you aid. In that day, ask any thing in honor of Tecumthè and he will grant it."
He turned about and gave a loud, startling signal-whoop. Scarcely had he done so when there started out of the thicket a diminutive figure, that of a dwarf, who was the messenger of Tecumseh, a being scarcely three feet high, who stood looking up into the face of his revered leader.
"If you would send any word to Harrison, the Weasel will carry it," said Tecumseh.
"Will it go safe?" said Floyd.
"The honor of a chief is sacred. It shall go to Harrison, if you trust me."
"It shall be done. Order the men to dismount and picket their horses. The chief will remain with us until his return with the answer."
"It is well," said Tecumseh.
Floyd stooped and tore a leaf from his note-book, upon which he wrote in cipher to Harrison, acquainting him with the melancholy fate of his family, and asking permission to take Yankee Seth and as many of the rangers as the latter thought necessary, to track Willimack wherever he had taken Madge. This cipher he intrusted to the Weasel, who took it with a self-satisfied air, thrust it into a small bag he carried at his belt, and set off at a pace which bade fair to take him quickly to his destination.
The morning came at last, and the rangers were up and prepared breakfast. When they had finished, all waited anxiously for the coming of the dwarf, though few believed him capable of performing the journey in so short a time. Tecumseh said he would be at hand in half an hour, but while they waited there came a loud, defiant whoop, and the Dead Chief, gorgeously attired, suddenly bounded forward and faced the astonished Tecumseh, hatchet in hand.