Randall Parrish - When Wilderness Was King

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"I thought you would sit there and dream all day," she said pleasantly;
"and I hardly have the heart to blame you. 'T is indeed a fair scene,
and one I almost regret leaving, now that the time to do so has come.
Never before has its rare beauty so strongly appealed to me."

"'T is the great distance outspread yonder which renders all so soft to
the eye," I answered, glad to reflect her mood; "yet Captain de Croix
and I know well 't is far less pleasant travelling over than to look at
here. We think of the swamps, the forests, the leagues of sand and the
swift rivers which will hinder our progress."

"I hardly imagine," she murmured softly, "that Captain de Croix is
guilty of wasting precious time in reflection upon aught so trivial
this morning. He has been conversing with me upon the proper cut of
his waistcoat, and I am sure he is too deeply engrossed in that subject
to give heed to other things."

I glanced at him and smiled as my heart glowed to her gentle sarcasm,
for surely never did a more incongruous figure take saddle on a western
trail. By what code of fashion he may have dressed, I know not; but
from his slender-pointed bronze shoes to his beribboned hat he was
still the dandy of the boulevards, his dark mustaches curled upward
till their tips nearly touched his ears, and a delicately carved
riding-whip swinging idly at his wrist. He seemed to have already
exhausted his powers of conversation, for he remained oblivious of our
presence, fumbling with one yellow-gloved hand in the recesses of a
saddle-bag.

"By Saint Denis, Sam!" he exclaimed, angrily, to his black satellite,
"I can find nothing of the powder-puff, or the bag of essence!
_Parbleu_! if they have been left behind you will go back after them,
though every Indian in this Illinois country stand between. Come, you
imp of darkness, know you aught of these?"

"Dey am wid de pack-hoss, Massa de Croix," was the oily answer. "I
done s'posed you would n't need 'em till we got thar."

"Need them! Little you know the requirements of a gentleman! Saint
Guise! Why, I shall want them both this very day! Ride you forward
there, and see if they cannot be picked out from among the other
things."

"See, Monsieur!" cried Mademoiselle suddenly, one hand pressing my arm,
while she pointed eagerly with the other, "there goes the boat with
Mistress Kinzie and her children! That must be Josette in the bow,
with the gay streamer about her hat. She did wish so to ride with us,
but Mr. Kinzie would not permit it."

The boat had but just cleared the river mouth, and was working
off-shore, with half a dozen Indians laboring at the oars.

"Yet Josette has by far the easiest passage, as we shall learn before
night," said I, watching their progress curiously. "I imagine you will
soon be wishing you were with them."

"Never, Master Wayland!" she cried, with a little shudder, and quick
uplifting of hands to her face as if to shut out the sight. "Memory of
the hours when I was last on the lake is still too vivid. I have grown
to dread the water as if it were an evil spirit. See! the column
resumes its march, and the savages are moving beside us as might a
guard of honor."

It was as she had said. The long, hard journey had begun; and slowly,
like some great snake torpid with a winter's sleep, the crawling column
drew forward. We at the rear rode down the incline and out upon the
level plain, every step an unconscious advance toward battle and death.

CHAPTER XXV

IM THE JAWS OF THE TIGER

We chatted carelessly about many things, as we rode slowly onward, our
unguided horses following those in advance along the well-marked trail
close beside the water along the sandy beach. Mademoiselle was full of
life and bubbling over with good-humor; while De Croix, having found
the essentials of his toilet safe, grew witty and light of speech, even
interesting me now and then in the idle words that floated to my
ears,--for he managed to monopolize the attention of the young girl so
thoroughly that after a little time I sat silent in my saddle, scarce
adding a word to their gay tilt, my eyes and thought upon the changing
scene ahead.

I know not why, as I reflect calmly upon the incidents of that morning,
I should have grown so confident that the savages meant us fair; yet
this feeling steadily took possession of me, and I even began to regret
that I had not stayed behind in quest of her for whom I had come so
far. Surely it was hopeless for me to dangle longer beside
Mademoiselle, for De Croix knew so well the little ins and cuts of
social intercourse that I was like a child for his play. Moreover, it
was clear enough that the girl liked him, or he would never presume so
to monopolize her attention. That she saw through much of his vain
pretence, was indeed probable; her words had conveyed this to me.
Nevertheless, it was plain she found him entertaining; he was like a
glittering jewel in that rough wilderness, and I was too dull of brain
and narrow of experience to hope for success against him in a struggle
for the favor of a girl so fair and gay as this Toinette.

I thought the matter all out as I rode on through the sunlight, my eyes
upon the painted savages who trooped along upon our right in such
stolid silence and seeming indifference, my ears open to the light
badinage and idle compliments of my two companions. Yes, it would be
better so. When the Indians left the column at the head of the lake, I
would invent some excuse that might allow me to accompany them on their
return, and I would remain in the neighborhood of the Fort until Elsa
Matherson had been found.

Just in front of us, a large army wain struggled along through the
yielding sand, drawn by a yoke of lumbering oxen. The heavy canvas
cover had been pushed high up in front, and I could see a number of
women and children seated upon the bedding piled within, and looking
with curious interest at the stream of Indians plodding moodily beside
the wheels. Some of the little tots' faces captivated me with their
expression of wide-eyed wonder, and I rode forward to speak with them;
for love of children is always in my heart.

As I turned my horse to draw back beside Mademoiselle, my eyes rested
upon the stockade of the old Fort, now some little distance in our
rear; and to my surprise it already swarmed with savages. Not less
than five hundred Indians,--warriors, all of them, and well
armed,--tramped as guards beside our long and scattered column, yet
hundreds of others were even now overrunning the mound and pouring in
at the Fort gates, eager for plunder. I could hear their shouting,
their fierce yells of exultation, while the grim and silent fellows who
accompanied us never so much as glanced around, although I caught here
and there the glint of a cruel, crafty eye. The sight made me wonder;
and I swung my long rifle out from the straps at my back down across
the pommel of my saddle, more ready to my hand.

The trail we had been following now swerved nearer the lake, deflected
somewhat by a long high ridge of beaten sand, separating the shore from
the prairie. Here the two advancing lines of white and red diverged,
the Indians moving around to the western side of the sand-ridge, while
Captain Wells and his Miami scouts continued their march along the
beach. There was nothing about this movement to awaken suspicion of
treachery, for the beach at this point had narrowed too much for so
great a number moving abreast, and it was therefore only natural that
our allies should seek a wider space for their marching, knowing they
could easily reunite with us a mile or so below, where the beach
broadened again. Their passing thus from our sight was a positive
relief; and so quiet did everything become, except for groaning wheels
and the heavy tread of horses, that Mademoiselle glanced up in surprise.

"Why, what has become of the Indians?" she questioned. "Have they
already left us?"

I pointed to the intervening sand-ridge.

"They move parallel with us, but prefer to walk upon the prairie grass
rather than these beach pebbles. For my part, I would willingly
dispense with their guard altogether; for in my judgment we are of
sufficient strength to defend ourselves."

"Ay, strong enough against savages," interposed De Croix, his eyes upon
the straggling line ahead; "yet if by any chance treachery was
intended, surely I never saw military formation less adapted for
repelling sudden attack. Mark how those fellows march out yonder!--all
in a bunch, and with not so much as a corporal's guard to protect the
wagons!"

I was no soldier then, and knew little of military formation; but his
criticism seemed just, and I ventured not upon answering it. Indeed,
at that very moment some confusion far in front, where Captain Wells
led his scouts, attracted my attention. We must have been a mile and a
half from the Fort by this time, and I recalled to memory the little
group of trees standing beside the trail where we had halted on our
journey westward to enjoy our earliest glimpse of Dearborn. At first I
could make out little of what was taking place ahead; then suddenly I
saw the squad of Miamis break hastily, like a cloud swept by a whirling
wind, and the next instant could clearly distinguish Captain Wells
riding swiftly back toward the column of infantry, his head bare, and
one arm gesticulating wildly. In a moment the whole line came to a
startled and wondering pause.

"What is it?" questioned Mademoiselle anxiously, shading her eyes.
"Have the Indians attacked us?"

"God knows!" I exclaimed, clinching my rifle firmly. "But it must
be,--look there!"

Wheeling rapidly into line, as if at command, although we could hear no
sound of the order, the soldiers poured one quick volley into the
sand-ridge on their right, and then, with a cheer which floated faintly
back to us, made a wild rush for the summit. This was all I saw of the
struggle in front,--for, with a cry of dismay, the Miamis composing the
rearguard broke from their posts beside the wagons and came running
back past us in a panic of wild terror. I saw Sergeant Jordan throw
himself across their line of flight, striking fiercely with his gun,
and cursing them for a pack of cowardly hounds; but he was thrown
helplessly aside in their blind rush for safety.

"Wayland! De Croix!" he shouted, staggering to his knees, "help me
stop these curs, if you would save our lives!"

It was a fool thing, yet in the excitement I did it, and De Croix was
beside me. Two or three of the settlers on foot rallied with us, and
together we struck so hard against those cowering renegades that for
the moment we held them, though their fear gave them desperation
difficult to withstand. I recall noticing De Croix, as he pressed his
rearing horse into the huddled mass, lashing at the faces of the
fellows mercilessly with his riding-whip, as if thinking Mademoiselle
would admire his reckless gallantry.

A wild yell, with the mad thrill of the war-whoop in it, suddenly
assailed our ears; the Miamis broke to the left like a flock of
frightened birds, and my startled glance revealed a horde of naked
Indians, howling like maniacs, and with madly brandished weapons,
pouring over the sand-ridge not thirty feet away from us. With a shout
of warning, which was half a curse at my own mad folly, I drove the
spurs deep into my horse's side in a vain endeavor to fling myself
between them and the girl. Hardly had the startled animal made one
quick plunge, when we were locked in that human avalanche as if gripped
by a vise of steel. A dozen dark hands grasped my bridle or clutched
at me, their swarthy faces fierce with blood-lust, the eyes that
fronted me cruel with passion and inflamed by hate. I heard shots not
far away; but we were all too closely jammed to do more than fight in a
desperate hand-to-hand struggle with club and knife.

The saddle is a poor place from which to swing a rifle, yet I stood
high in my wooden stirrups and struck madly at every Indian head I saw,
battering their faces till from the very horror of it they gave slowly
back. I won a yard--two yards--three,--my horse biting viciously at
their naked flesh, and lashing out with both fore-feet like a fiend,
while I swept my gun-stock in a widening circle of death. For the
moment, I dreamed we might drive them back; but then those devils
blocked me, clinging to my horse's legs in their death agony, and
laughing back into my face as I struck them down.

Once I heard De Croix swearing in French beside me, and glanced around
through the mad turmoil to see him cutting and hacking with broken
blade, pushing into the midst of the melee as if he had real joy in the
encounter. While I thus had him in view, a knife whistled through the
air, there was a quick dazzle in the sunlight, and he reeled backward
off his horse and disappeared in the ruck below.

Never in a life of fighting have I battled as I did then, feeling that
I alone might hope to reach her side and beat back these foul fiends
till help should come to us. The stock of my rifle shattered like
glass; but I swung the iron barrel with what seemed to me the strength
of twenty men, striking, thrusting, stabbing, my teeth set, my eyes
blurring with a mist of blood, caring for nothing except to hit and
kill. I know not now whether I advanced at all in that last effort,
though my horse trod on dead bodies. Only once in those awful seconds
did I gain a glimpse of Mademoiselle through the mist of struggle, the
maze of uplifted arms and striking steel. She had reined her horse
back against a wheel of the halted wagon, and with white face and
burning eyes was lashing desperately with the loaded butt of her
riding-whip at the red hands which sought to drag her from the saddle.

The sight maddened me, and again my spurs were driven into my horse's
flanks. As he plunged forward, some one from behind struck me a
crushing blow across the back of the head, and I reeled from my saddle,
a red mist over my eyes, and went hurling face downward upon the mass
of reeling, tangled bodies.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE FIELD OF THE DEAD

The fierce plunging of my horse in his death agony, and his final
pitching forward across my prostrate body, were doubtless all that saved
my life. Yielding to their mad desire for plunder, the savages scattered
when I fell, and left me lying there for dead. I do not think I quite
lost consciousness in those first moments, although everything became
blurred to my sight, and I was imprisoned by the weight above me so that
the slightest effort to move proved painful; indeed, I breathed only with
the greatest difficulty.

But I both heard and saw, and my mind was intensely occupied with the
rush of thought, the horror of all that was going on about me. How I
wish I might blot it out,--forget forever the hellish deeds of those
dancing devils who made mock of human agony and laughed at tears and
prayers! It was plain, as the wild cries of rejoicing rose on every
side, that the Indians had swept the field. The distant sound of firing
ceased, and I could hear the pitiful cries of women, the frightened
shrieks of children, the shrill note of intense agony wrung from tortured
lips. Close beside me lay a dead warrior, his hideously painted face,
with its wide, glaring, dead eyes, so fronting me that I had left only a
narrow space through which to peer. Within that small opening I saw
murder done until I closed my eyes in shuddering horror, crazed by my own
sense of helplessness, and feeling the awful fate that must already have
befallen her I loved. God knows I had then no faintest wish to live; nor
did I dream that I should see the sun go down that day. Death was upon
every side of me, in its most dreadful forms; and every cry that reached
my ears, every sight that met my eyes, only added to the frightful
reality of my own helplessness. The inert weight of the horse stifled me
so that I drew my short breath almost in sobs; nor did I dare venture
upon the slightest attempt at release, hemmed about as I was by merciless
fiends now hideously drunk with slaughter. Once I heard a man plead for
mercy, shrieking the words forth as if his intensity of agony had robbed
him of all manliness; I saw a young woman fall headlong, the haft of a
tomahawk cleaving open her head, as a brawny red arm gripped her by the
throat; a child, with long yellow hair, and face distorted by terror, ran
past my narrow outlook, a naked savage grasping after her scarcely a foot
behind. I heard her wild scream of despair and his shout of triumph as
he struck her down. Then I lost consciousness, overwhelmed by the
multiplying horrors of that field of blood.

It is hard to tell how long I lay there, or by what miracle of God's
great mercy I had escaped death and mutilation. It was still day, the
sun was high in the heaven, and the heat almost intolerable, beating down
upon the dry and glittering sand. I could distinguish no sound near at
hand, not even a moan of any kind. The human forms about me were
stiffening in death; nor did any skulking Indian figures appear in sight.

From away to the northward I could hear the echo of distant yelling; and
as I lay there, every faculty alert, I became more and more convinced
that the savages who had attacked us had withdrawn, and that I alone of
all that fated company was preserved, through some strange dispensation
of Providence, for what might prove a more terrible fate than any on that
stricken field. With this thought there was suddenly born within me a
fresh desire for life, a mad thirsting after revenge on those red demons
whose merciless work I had been compelled to see. Yet if I hoped to
preserve my life, I must have water and air; a single hour longer in my
present situation could only result in death. Fortunately, such relief,
now that I felt free to exert myself and seek it, was not so difficult as
it had seemed. The heavy horse rested upon other bodies as well as my
own, so that, little by little, I succeeded in dragging myself out from
beneath his weight, until I was finally able to lift my head and glance
cautiously about me.

I pause now as I sit writing, my face buried in my hands, at the memory
of that dreadful field of death. I cannot picture it, nor have I wish to
try. I took one swift glimpse at the riven skulls, the mangled limbs,
the mutilated bodies, the upturned pleading faces white and ghastly in
the sunlight, the women and children huddled in heaps of slain, the
seemingly endless line of disfigured, half-stripped bodies stretching far
down the white beach; then I fell upon my face in the sand, sobbing like
a baby. O God, how could such deeds be done? How could creatures shaped
like men prove themselves such fiends, such hideous devils of malignity?
It sickened me with horror, and I shrank from those dead bodies as if
each had been a grim and threatening ghost.

Necessity presently overcame the dread possessing me; and slowly, seeking
to see no more than I must of the awful scenes about me, I struggled to
my knees, and peered around cautiously for signs of skulking Indians.
Not a living creature was near enough to observe me. To the northward
the savages were swarming about the Fort, and it was evident that they
had left everything to search for plunder. My uncovered head throbbed
under the hot sun, and my hair was thick with clotted blood; scarce a
hundred feet away was the blue lake, and on my hands and knees I crawled
across the beach to it, forgetful of everything else in my desire to roll
in the cool sweet water.

I realized that it would be far safer for me to remain there until
darkness shrouded my movements; but I felt so revived by the touch of the
water that the old desire for action overcame considerations of personal
safety. Before night came I must somehow gain possession of a rifle,
with powder and ball; and I must discover, if possible, the fate of
Mademoiselle. I cannot describe how, like a frightened child, I shrank
from going again amid those mutilated corpses. I started twice, only to
crawl back into the water, nerveless and shaking like the leaf of a
cottonwood. I knew it must be done, and that the sooner I attempted it
the safer would be the trial; so at last, with set teeth and almost
superhuman effort, I crept up the beach among the silent, disfigured dead
once more.

With little trouble I found the wagon against which I had seen
Mademoiselle draw back her horse in that last desperate defence. It was
overturned, scorched with flame, its contents widely scattered; while
about it lay the bodies of men, women, and children. A single hasty
glance at most of these was sufficient; but a few were so huddled and
hidden that I was compelled to move them before I thoroughly convinced
myself that Mademoiselle was not there. I finally found her horse,
several rods away, lying against the sand-ridge; but she whose body I
sought with such fond persistency was not among those mangled forms.

Faint and sick from the awful scene, with head throbbing painfully, I
sank down upon a slope of sand where I was able to command a clear view
in either direction, and thought rapidly. I was alone with the dead. Of
all those lying silent before me, none would stir again. Not a savage
roamed the stricken field,--though doubtless they would again swarm down
upon it as soon as the sacking of the Fort had been completed. I must
plan, and plan quickly, if I would preserve my own life and be of service
to others. And life was worth preserving now, for there was a
possibility,--faint, to be sure, yet a possibility,--that Toinette still
lived. How the mere hope thrilled and animated me! how like a
trumpet-sound it called to action! She had told me once of friendships
between her and these blood-stained warriors; of weeks passed in Indian
camps on the great plains, both with her father and alone; of being
called the White Queen in the lodges of Sacs, Wyandots, and
Pottawattomies. Perchance some such friendship may have intervened to
save her, even in that fierce melee, that carnival of lust and murder.
Some chief, with sufficient power to dare the deed, may have snatched her
from out the jaws of death, actuated by motives of mercy,--or, more
likely still, have saved her from the stroke of the tomahawk for a far
more terrible fate.

This was the thought that brought me again to my feet with burning face
and tightly clinched teeth. If she lived, a helpless prisoner in those
black lodges yonder, there was work to be done,--stern, desperate work,
that would require all my courage and resourcefulness. Firm in manly
resolve, and rendered reckless now of contact with the dead, I crept back
among the bodies in eager search for gun and ammunition. For a long time
I sought vainly; the field had been stripped by many a vandal hand. At
last, however, I turned over a painted giant of a savage whose head had
been crushed with a blow, and beneath him discovered a long rifle with
powder-horn half filled. As I drew it forth, uttering a cry of delight
at my precious find, my eyes fell upon a pair of bronze boots, with long
narrow toes, protruding from beneath a tangled mass of the slain. It was
no doubt the tomb of De Croix; and without so much as a thought that he
could be alive, I drew the bodies off him and dragged his form forth into
the sunlight.

Merciful Heaven! his heart still beat,--so faintly, indeed, that I could
barely note it with my ear at his chest. But life was surely there, and
with a hasty glance about to assure me that I was unobserved, I ran to
the lake shore. I returned with hat full of water, with which I
thoroughly drenched him, rubbing his numbed hands fiercely, and thumping
his chest until at last the closed eyes partially opened, and he looked
up into my anxious face, gasping painfully for breath. His lips moved as
I lifted his head in my arms; and I bent lower, not certain but he was
dying and had some last message he would whisper in my ear.

"Wayland," he faltered feebly, "is this you? Lord, how my head aches!
Send Sam to me with the hand-mirror and the perfumed soap."

"Hush!" I answered, almost angry at his flippant utterance. "Sam is no
doubt dead, and you and I alone are spared of all the company. Do you
suffer greatly? Think you it would be possible to walk?"

"I have much pain here in the side," he said slowly, "and am yet weak
from loss of blood. All dead, you say? Is Toinette dead?"

"I know not, but I have not found her body among the others, and believe
her to be a prisoner to the savages. But, come, De Croix," I urged,
anxiously, "we run great risk loitering here; there is but one safe spot
for us until after dark,--yonder, crouched in the waters of the lake.
The Indians may return at any moment to complete their foul work; and for
us to be found alive means torture,--most likely the stake,--and will
remove the last hope for Mademoiselle. Think you it can be made if you
lean hard on me?"

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