Chapter VI. The Evil Spirit's Work

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　Henry slipped forth with the crowd from the Long House, stoopingsomewhat and shrinking into the smallest possible dimensions.But there was little danger now that any one would notice him, aslong as he behaved with prudence, because all grief and solemnitywere thrown aside, and a thousand red souls intended to rejoice.A vast banquet was arranged. Great fires leaped up all throughthe village. At every fire the Indian women, both young and old,were already far forward with the cooking. Deer, bear, squirrel,rabbit, fish, and every other variety of game with which thewoods and rivers of western New York and Pennsylvania swarmedwere frying or roasting over the coals, and the air was permeatedwith savory odors. There was a great hum of voices and anincessant chattering. Here in the forest, among themselves, andin complete security, the Indian stoicism was relaxed. Accordingto their customs everybody fell to eating at a prodigious rate,as if they had not tasted anything for a month, and as if theyintended to eat enough now to last another month.

　　It was far into the night, because the ceremonies had lasted along time, but a brilliant moon shone down upon the feastingcrowd, and the flames of the great fires, yellow and blue, leapedand danced. This was an oasis of light and life. Timmendiquasand Thayendanegea sat together before the largest fire, and theyate with more restraint than the others. Even at the banquetthey would not relax their dignity as great chiefs. OldSkanawati, the Onondaga, old Atotarho, Onondaga, too,Satekariwate, the Mohawk, Kanokarih, the Seneca, and others, headchiefs though they were of the three senior tribes, did nothesitate to eat as the rich Romans of the Empire ate, swallowingimmense quantities of all kinds of meat, and drinking a sort ofcider that the women made. Several warriors ate and drank untilthey fell down in a stupor by the fires. The same warriors onthe hunt or the war path would go for days without food, enduringevery manner of hardship. Now and then a warrior would leap upand begin a chant telling of some glorious deed of his. Those athis own fire would listen, but elsewhere they took no notice.

　　In the largest open space a middle-aged Onondaga with a fine facesuddenly uttered a sharp cry: " Hehmio!" which he rapidlyrepeated twice. Two score voices instantly replied, "Heh!" and arush was made for him. At least a hundred gathered around him,but they stood in a respectful circle, no one nearer than tenfeet. He waved his hand, and all sat down on the ground. Then,he, too, sat down, all gazing at him intently and withexpectancy.

　　He was a professional story-teller, an institution great andhonored among the tribes of the Iroquois farther back even thanHiawatha. He began at once the story of the warrior who learnedto talk with the deer and the bear, carrying it on through manychapters. Now and then a delighted listener would cry " Hah!"but if anyone became bored and fell asleep it was considered anomen of misfortune to the sleeper, and he was chasedignominiously to his tepee. The Iroquois romancer was betterprotected than the white one is. He could finish some of hisstories in one evening, but others were serials. When he arrivedat the end of the night's installment he would cry, "Si-ga!"which was equivalent to our "To be continued in our next." Thenall would rise, and if tired would seek sleep, but if not theywould catch the closing part of some other story-teller'sromance.

　　At three fires Senecas were playing a peculiar little woodenflute of their own invention, that emitted wailing sounds notwithout a certain sweetness. In a corner a half dozen warriorshurt in battle were bathing their wounds with a soothing lotionmade from the sap of the bass wood.

　　Henry lingered a while in the darkest corners, witnessing thefeasting, hearing the flutes and the chants, listening for aspace to the story-tellers and the enthusiastic "Hahs!" Theywere so full of feasting and merrymaking now that one couldalmost do as he pleased, and he stole toward the southern end ofthe village, where he had noticed several huts, much morestrongly built than the others. Despite all his natural skilland experience his heart beat very fast when he came to thefirst. He was about to achieve the great exploration upon whichhe had ventured so much. Whether he would find anything at theend of the risk he ran, he was soon to see.

　　The hut, about seven feet square and as many feet in height, wasbuilt strongly of poles, with a small entrance closed by aclapboard door fastened stoutly on the outside with withes. Thehut was well in the shadow of tepees, and all were still at thefeasting and merrymaking. He cut the withes with two sweeps ofhis sharp hunting knife, opened the door, bent his head, steppedin and then closed the door behind him, in order that no Iroquoismight see what had happened.

　　It was not wholly dark in the hut, as there were cracks betweenthe poles, and bars of moonlight entered, falling upon a floor ofbark. They revealed also a figure lying full length on one sideof the but. A great pulse of joy leaped up in Henry's throat,and with it was a deep pity, also. The figure was that ofShif'less Sol, but be was pale and thin, and his arms and legswere securely bound with thongs of deerskin.

　　Leaning over, Henry cut the thongs of the shiftless one, but hedid not stir. Great forester that Shif'less Sol was, and usuallyso sensitive to the lightest movement, be perceived nothing now,and, had he not found him bound, Henry would have been afraidthat he was looking upon his dead comrade. The hands of theshiftless one, when the hands were cut, had fallen limply by hisside, and his face looked all the more pallid by contrast withthe yellow hair which fell in length about it. But it was hisold-time friend, the dauntless Shif'less Sol, the last of thefive to vanish so mysteriously.

　　Henry bent down and pulled him by the shoulder. The captiveyawned, stretched himself a little, and lay still again withclosed eyes. Henry shook him a second time and more violently.Shif'less Sol sat up quickly, and Henry knew that indignationprompted the movement. Sol held his arms and legs stiffly andseemed to be totally unconscious that they were unbound. He castone glance upward, and in the dim light saw the tall warriorbending over him.

　　"I'll never do it, Timmendiquas or White Lightning, whichevername you like better!" he exclaimed. "I won't show you how tosurprise the white settlements. You can burn me at the stake ortear me in pieces first. Now go away and let me sleep."

　　He sank back on the bark, and started to close his eyes again.It was then that he noticed for the first time that his handswere unbound. He held them up before his face, as if they werestrange objects wholly unattached to himself, and gazed at themin amazement. He moved his legs and saw that they, too, wereunbound. Then he turned his startled gaze upward at the face ofthe tall warrior who was looking down at him. Shif'less Sol waswholly awake now. Every faculty in him was alive, and he piercedthrough the Shawnee disguise. He knew who it was. He knew whohad come to save him, and he sprang to his feet, exclaiming theone word:

　　"Henry!"

　　The hands of the comrades met in the clasp of friendship whichonly many dangers endured together can give.

　　"How did you get here?" asked the shiftless one in a whisper.

　　"I met an Indian in the forest," replied Henry, "and well I amnow he."

　　Shif'less Sol laughed under his breath.

　　"I see," said he, "but how did you get through the camp? It's abig one, and the Iroquois are watchful. Timmendiquas is here,too, with his Wyandots."

　　"They are having a great feast," replied Henry, "and I could goabout almost unnoticed. Where are the others, Sol?"

　　"In the cabins close by."

　　"Then we'll get out of this place. Quick! Tie up your hair! Inthe darkness you can easily pass for an Indian."

　　The shiftless one drew his hair into a scalp lock, and the twoslipped from the cabin, closing the door behind them and deftlyretying the thongs, in order that the discovery of the escapemight occur as late as possible. Then they stood a few momentsin the shadow of the hut and listened to the sounds of revelry,the monotone of the story-tellers, and the chant of the singers.

　　"You don't know which huts they are in, do you?" asked Henry,anxiously.

　　"No, I don't," replied tile shiftless one.

　　"Get back!" exclaimed Henry softly. "Don't you see who's passingout there?"

　　"Braxton Wyatt," said Sol. "I'd like to get my hands on thatscoundrel. I've had to stand a lot from him."

　　"The score must wait. But first we'll provide you with weapons.See, the Iroquois have stacked some of their rifles here whilethey're at the feast."

　　A dozen good rifles had been left leaning against a hut near by,and Henry, still watching lest he be observed, chose the best,with its ammunition, for his comrade, who, owing to hissemi-civilized attire, still remained in the shadow of the otherhut.

　　"Why not take four?" whispered the shiftless one. "We'll needthem for the other boys."

　　Henry took four, giving two to his comrade, and then they hastilyslipped back to the other side of the hut. A Wyandot and aMohawk were passing, and they had eyes of hawks. Henry and Solwaited until the formidable pair were gone, and then began toexamine the huts, trying to surmise in which their comrades lay.

　　"I haven't seen 'em a-tall, a-tall," said Sol, "but I reckon fromthe talk that they are here. I was s'prised in the woods, Henry.A half dozen reds jumped on me so quick I didn't have time todraw a weepin. Timmendiquas was at the head uv 'em an' he justgrinned. Well, he is a great chief, if he did truss me up like afowl. I reckon the same thing happened to the others."

　　"Come closer, Sol! Come closer!" whispered Henry. More warriorsare walking this way. The feast is breaking up, and they'llspread all through the camp."

　　A terrible problem was presented to the two. They could nolonger search among the strong huts, for their comrades. Theopportunity to save had lasted long enough for one only. Butborder training is stern, and these two had uncommon courage anddecision.

　　"We must go now, Sol," said Henry, "but we'll come back."

　　"Yes," said the shiftless one, "we'll come back."

　　Darting between the huts, they gained the southern edge of theforest before the satiated banqueters could suspect the presenceof an enemy. Here they felt themselves safe, but they did notpause. Henry led the way, and Shif'less Sol followed at a fairdegree of speed.

　　"You'll have to be patient with me for a little while, Henry,"said Sol in a tone of humility. "When I wuz layin' thar in thelodge with my hands an' feet tied I wuz about eighty years old,jest ez stiff ez could be from the long tyin'. When I reachedthe edge o' the woods the blood wuz flowin' lively enough to makeme 'bout sixty. Now I reckon I'm fifty, an' ef things go wellI'll be back to my own nateral age in two or three hours."

　　"You shall have rest before morning," said Henry, "and it will bein a good place, too. I can promise that."

　　Shif'less Sol looked at him inquiringly, but he did not sayanything. Like the rest of the five, Sol had acquired the mostimplicit confidence in their bold young leader. He had everyreason to feel good. That painful soreness was disappearing fromhis ankles. As they advanced through the woods, weeks droppedfrom him one by one. Then the months began to roll away, and atlast time fell year by year. As they approached the deeps of theforest where the swamp lay, Solomon Hyde, the so called shiftlessone, and wholly undeserving of the name, was young again.

　　"I've got a fine little home for us, Sol," said Henry. "Bestwe've had since that time we spent a winter on the island in thelake. This is littler, but it's harder to find. It'll be a finething to know you're sleeping safe and sound with five hundredIroquois warriors only a few miles away."

　　"Then it'll suit me mighty well," said Shif'less Sol, grinningbroadly. "That's jest the place fur a lazy man like your humbleservant, which is me."

　　They reached the stepping stones, and Henry paused a moment.

　　"Do you feel steady enough, Sol, to jump from stone to stone?" heasked.

　　"I'm feelin' so good I could fly ef I had to," he replied. "Jestyou jump on, Henry, an' fur every jump you take you'll find meonly one jump behind you!"

　　Henry, without further ado, sprang from one stone to another, andbehind him, stone for stone, came the shiftless one. It was nowpast midnight, and the moon was obscured. The keenest eyestwenty yards away could not have seen the two dusky figures asthey went by leaps into the very heart of the great, black swamp.They reached the solid ground, and then the hut.

　　"Here, Sol," said Henry, "is my house, and yours, also, and soon,I hope, to be that of Paul, Tom, and Jim, too."

　　"Henry," said Shif'less Sol, " I'm shorely glad to come."

　　They went inside, stacked their captured rifles against the wall,and soon were sound asleep.

　　Meanwhile sleep was laying hold of the Iroquois village, also.They had eaten mightily and they had drunk mightily. Many timeshad they told the glories of Hode-no-sau-nee, the Great League,and many times had they gladly acknowledged the valor and worthof Timmendiquas and the brave little Wyandot nation.Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea had sat side by side throughoutthe feast, but often other great chiefs were with them-Skanawati,Atotarho, and Hahiron, the Onondagas; Satekariwate, the Mohawk;Kanokarih and Kanyadoriyo, the Senecas; and many others.

　　Toward midnight the women and the children left for the lodges,and soon the warriors began to go also, or fell asleep on tileground, wrapped in their blankets. The fires were allowed tosink low, and at last the older chiefs withdrew, leaving onlyTimmendiquas and Thayendanegea.

　　"You have seen the power and spirit of the Iroquois," saidThayendanegea. "We can bring many more warriors than are hereinto the field, and we will strike the white settlements withyou."

　　"The Wyandots are not so many as the warriors of the GreatLeague," said Timmendiquas proudly, "but no one has ever beenbefore them in battle."

　　"You speak truth, as I have often heard it," said Thayendanegeathoughtfully. Then be showed Timmendiquas to a lodge of honor,the finest in the village, and retired to his own.

　　The great feast was over, but the chiefs had come to a momentousdecision. Still chafing over their defeat at Oriskany, theywould make a new and formidable attack upon the whitesettlements, and Timmendiquas and his fierce Wyandots would helpthem. All of them, from the oldest to the youngest, rejoiced inthe decision, and, not least, the famous Thayendanegea. He hatedthe Americans most because they were upon the soil, and werealways pressing forward against the Indian. The Englishmen werefar away, and if they prevailed in the great war, the march ofthe American would be less rapid. He would strike once more withthe Englishmen, and the Iroquois could deliver mighty blows onthe American rearguard. He and his Mohawks, proud Keepers of theWestern Gate, would lead in the onset. Thayendanegea consideredit a good night's work, and he slept peacefully.

　　The great camp relapsed into silence. The warriors on the groundbreathed perhaps a little heavily after so much feasting, and thefires were permitted to smolder down to coals. Wolves andpanthers drawn by the scent of food crept through the thicketstoward the faint firelight, but they were afraid to draw near.Morning came, and food and drink were taken to the lodges inwhich four prisoners were held, prisoners of great value, takenby Timmendiquas and the Wyandots, and held at his urgentinsistence as hostages.

　　Three were found as they had been left, and when their bonds wereloosened they ate and drank, but the fourth hut was empty. Theone who spoke in a slow, drawling way, and the one who seemed tobe the most dangerous of them all, was gone. Henry and Sol hadtaken the severed thongs with them, and there was nothing to showhow the prisoner had disappeared, except that the withesfastening the door had been cut.

　　The news spread through the village, and there was muchexcitement. Thayendanegea and Timmendiquas came and looked atthe empty hut. Timmendiquas may have suspected how Shif'less Solhad gone, but he said nothing. Others believed that it was thework of Hahgweh-da-et-gah (The Spirit of Evil), or perhaps Ga-oh(The Spirit of the Winds) had taken him away.

　　"It is well to keep a good watch on the others," saidTimmendiquas, and Thayendanegea nodded.

　　That day the chiefs entered the Long House again, and held agreat war council. A string of white wampum about a foot inlength was passed to every chief, who held it a moment or twobefore handing it to his neighbors. It was then laid on a tablein the center of the room, the ends touching. This signifiedharmony among the Six Nations. All the chiefs had been summonedto this place by belts of wampum sent to the different tribes byrunners appointed by the Onondagas, to whom this honor belonged.All treaties had to be ratified by the exchange of belts, and nowthis was done by the assembled chiefs.

　　Timmendiquas, as an honorary chief of the Mohawks, and as thereal head of a brave and allied nation, was present throughoutthe council. His advice was asked often, and when he gave it theothers listened with gravity and deference. The next day thevillage played a great game of lacrosse, which was invented bythe Indians, and which had been played by them for centuriesbefore the arrival of the white man. In this case the match wason a grand scale, Mohawks and Cayugas against Onondagas andSenecas.

　　The game began about nine o'clock in the morning in a greatnatural meadow surrounded by forest. The rival sides assembledopposite each other and bet heavily. All the stakes, under thelaw of the game, were laid upon the ground in heaps here, andthey consisted of the articles most precious to the Iroquois. Inthese heaps were rifles, tomahawks, scalping knives, wampum,strips of colored beads, blankets, swords, belts, moccasins,leggins, and a great many things taken as spoil in forays on thewhite settlements, such is small mirrors, brushes of variouskinds, boots, shoes, and other things, the whole making a vastassortment.

　　These heaps represented great wealth to the Iroquois, and theolder chiefs sat beside them in the capacity of stakeholders andjudges.

　　The combatants, ranged in two long rows, numbered at least fivehundred on each side, and already they began to show anexcitement approaching that which animated them when they wouldgo into battle. Their eyes glowed, and the muscles on theirnaked backs and chests were tense for the spring. In order toleave their limbs perfectly free for effort they wore no clothingat all, except a little apron reaching from the waist to theknee.

　　The extent of the playground was marked off by two pair of "byes"like those used in cricket, planted about thirty rods apart. Butthe goals of each side were only about thirty feet apart.

　　At a signal from the oldest of the chiefs the contestantsarranged themselves in two parallel lines facing each other,inside the area and about ten rods apart. Every man was armedwith a strong stick three and a half to four feet in length, andcurving toward the end. Upon this curved end was tightlyfastened a network of thongs of untanned deerskin, drawn untilthey were rigid and taut. The ball with which they were to playwas made of closely wrapped elastic skins, and was about the sizeof an ordinary apple.

　　At the end of the lines, but about midway between them, sat thechiefs, who, besides being judges and stakeholders, were alsoscore keepers. They kept tally of the game by cutting notchesupon sticks. Every time one side put the ball through theother's goal it counted one, but there was an unusual powerexercised by the chiefs, practically unknown to the games ofwhite men. If one side got too far ahead, its score was cut downat the discretion of the chiefs in order to keep the game moreeven, and also to protract it sometimes over three or four days.The warriors of the leading side might grumble among one anotherat the amount of cutting the chiefs did, but they would not dareto make any protest. However, the chiefs would never cut theleading side down to an absolute parity with the other. It wasalways allowed to retain a margin of the superiority it had won.

　　The game was now about to begin, and the excitement becameintense. Even the old judges leaned forward in their eagerness,while the brown bodies of the warriors shone in the sun, and thetaut muscles leaped up under the skin. Fifty players on eachside, sticks in hand, advanced to the center of the ground, andarranged themselves somewhat after the fashion of footballplayers, to intercept the passage of the ball toward their goals.Now they awaited the coming of the ball.

　　There were several young girls, the daughters of chiefs. The mostbeautiful of these appeared. She was not more than sixteen orseventeen years of age, as slender and graceful as a young deer,and she was dressed in the finest and most richly embroidereddeerskin. Her head was crowned with a red coronet, crested withplumes, made of the feathers of the eagle and heron. She woresilver bracelets and a silver necklace.

　　The girl, bearing in her hand the ball, sprang into the verycenter of the arena, where, amid shouts from all the warriors,she placed it upon the ground. Then she sprang back and joinedthe throng of spectators. Two of the players, one from eachside, chosen for strength and dexterity, advanced. They hookedthe ball together in their united bats and thus raised it aloft,until the bats were absolutely perpendicular. Then with a quick,jerking motion they shot it upward. Much might be gained by thisfirst shot or stroke, but on this occasion the two players wereequal, and it shot almost absolutely straight into the air. Thenearest groups made a rush for it, and the fray began.

　　Not all played at once, as the crowd was so great, but usuallytwenty or thirty on each side struck for tile ball, and when theybecame exhausted or disabled were relieved by similar groups.All eventually came into action.

　　The game was played with the greatest fire and intensity,assuming sometimes the aspect of a battle. Blows with theformidable sticks were given and received. Brown skins werestreaked with blood, heads were cracked, and a Cayuga was killed.Such killings were not unusual in these games, and it was alwaysconsidered the fault of the man who fell, due to his ownawkwardness or unwariness. The body of the dead Cayuga was takenaway in disgrace.

　　All day long the contest was waged with undiminished courage andzeal, party relieving party. The meadow and the surroundingforest resounded with the shouts and yells of combatants andspectators. The old squaws were in a perfect frenzy ofexcitement, and their shrill screams of applause or condemnationrose above every other sound.

　　On this occasion, as the contest did not last longer than oneday, the chiefs never cut down the score of the leading side.The game closed at sunset, with the Senecas and Onondagastriumphant, and richer by far than they were in the morning. TheMohawks and Cayugas retired, stripped of their goods andcrestfallen.

　　Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea, acting as umpires watched thegame closely to its finish, but not so the renegades BraxtonWyatt and Blackstaffe. They and Quarles had wandered eastwardwith some Delawares, and had afterward joined the band ofWyandots, though Timmendiquas gave them no very warm welcome.Quarles had left on some errand a few days before. They hadrejoiced greatly at the trapping of the four, one by one, in thedeep bush. But they had felt anger and disappointment when thefifth was not taken, also. Now both were concerned and alarmedover the escape of Shif'less Sol in the night, and they drewapart from the Indians to discuss it.

　　"I think," said Wyatt, "that Hyde did not manage it himself, allalone. How could he? He was bound both hand and foot; and I'velearned, too, Blackstaffe, that four of the best Iroquois rifleshave been taken. That means one apiece for Hyde and the threeprisoners that are left."

　　The two exchanged looks of meaning and understanding.

　　"It must have been the boy Ware who helped Hyde to get away,"said Blackstaffe, "and their taking of the rifles means that heand Hyde expect to rescue the other three in the same way. Youthink so, too?"

　　"Of course," replied Wyatt. "What makes the Indians, who are sowonderfully alert and watchful most of the time, become socareless when they have a great feast?"

　　Blackstaffe shrugged his shoulders.

　　"It is their way," he replied. "You cannot change it. Waremust have noticed what they were about, and he took advantage ofit. But I don't think any of the others will go that way."

　　"The boy Cotter is in here," said Braxton Wyatt, tapping theside of a small hut. "Let's go in and see him."

　　"Good enough," said Blackstaffe. "But we mustn't let him knowthat Hyde has escaped."

　　Paul, also bound hand and foot, was lying on an old wolfskin.He, too, was pale and thin-the strict confinement had told uponhim heavily-but Paul's spirit could never be daunted. He lookedat the two renegades with hatred and contempt.

　　"Well, you're in a fine fix," said Wyatt sneeringly. "We justcame in to tell you that we took Henry Ware last night."

　　Paul looked him straight and long in the eye, and he knew thatthe renegade was lying.

　　"I know better," he said.

　　"Then we will get him," said Wyatt, abandoning the lie, "and allof you will die at the stake."

　　"You, will not get him," said Paul defiantly, "and as for therest of us dying at the stake, that's to be seen. I know this:Timmendiquas considers us of value, to be traded or exchanged,and he's too smart a man to destroy what be regards as his ownproperty. Besides, we may escape. I don't want to boast,Braxton Wyatt, but you know that we're hard to hold."

　　Then Paul managed to turn over with his face to the wall, as ifhe were through with them. They went out, and Braxton Wyatt saidsulkily:

　　"Nothing to be got out of him."

　　"No," said Blackstaffe, "but we must urge that the strictestkind of guard be kept over the others."

　　The Iroquois were to remain some time at the village, because alltheir forces were not yet gathered for the great foray they hadin mind. The Onondaga runners were still carrying the wampumbelts of purple shells, sign of war, to distant villages of thetribes, and parties of warriors were still coming in. A band ofCayugas arrived that night, and with them they brought a halfstarved and sick, Lenni-Lenape, whom they had picked up near thecamp. The Lenni-Lenape, who looked as if he might have been whenin health a strong and agile warrior, said that news had reachedhim through the Wyandots of the great war to be waged by theIroquois on the white settlements, and the spirits would not lethim rest unless he bore his part in it. He prayed therefore tobe accepted among them.

　　Much food was given to the brave Lenni-Lenape, and he was sent toa lodge to rest. To-morrow he would be well, and he would bewelcomed to the ranks of the Cayugas, a Younger nation. But whenthe morning came, the lodge was empty. The sick Lenni-Lenape wasgone, and with him the boy, Paul, the youngest of the prisoners.Guards bad been posted all around the camp, but evidently the twohad slipped between. Brave and advanced as were the Iroquois,superstition seized upon them. Hah-gweli-da-et-gah was at workamong them, coming in the form of the famished Lenni-Lenape. Hehad steeped them in a deep sleep, and then he had vanished withthe prisoner in Se-oh (The Night). Perhaps lie had taken awaythe boy, who was one of a hated race, for some sacrifice ormystery of his own. The fears of the Iroquois rose. If theSpirit of Evil was among them, greater harm could be expected.

　　But the two renegades, Blackstaffe and Wyatt, raged. They didnot believe in the interference of either good spirits or badspirits, and just now their special hatred was a famishedLenni-Lenape warrior.

　　"Why on earth didn't I think of it?" exclaimed Wyatt. "I'm surenow by his size that it was the fellow Hyde. Of Course heslipped to the lodge, let Cotter out, and they dodged about inthe darkness until they escaped in the forest. I'll complain toTimmendiquas."

　　He was as good as his word, speaking of the laxness of bothIroquois and Wyandots. The great White Lightning regarded himwith an icy stare.

　　"You say that the boy, Cotter, escaped through carelessness?" heasked.

　　"I do," exclaimed Wyatt.

　　"Then why did you not prevent it?"

　　Wyatt trembled a little before the stern gaze of the chief.

　　Since when," continued Timmendiquas, "have you, a deserter frontyour own people, had the right to hold to account the head chiefof the Wyandots?" Braxton Wyatt, brave though he undoubtedlywas, trembled yet more. He knew that Timmendiquas did not likehim, and that the Wyandot chieftain could make his position amongthe Indians precarious.

　　"I did not mean to say that it was the fault of anybody inparticular," he exclaimed hastily, "but I've been hearing so muchtalk about the Spirit of Evil having a hand in this that Icouldn't keep front saying something. Of course, it was HenryWare and Hyde who did it!"

　　"It may be," said Timmendiquas icily, "but neither the Manitou ofthe Wyandots, nor the Aieroski of the Iroquois has given to methe eyes to see everything that happens in the dark."

　　Wyatt withdrew still in a rage, but afraid to say more. He andBlackstaffe held many conferences through the day, and theylonged for the presence of Simon Girty, who was farther west.

　　That night an Onondaga runner arrived from one of the farthestvillages of the Mohawks, far east toward Albany. He had beensent from a farther village, and was not known personally to thewarriors in the great camp, but he bore a wampum belt of purpleshells, the sign of war, and he reported directly toThayendanegea, to whom he brought stirring and satisfactorywords. After ample feasting, as became one who had come so far,he lay upon soft deerskins in one of the bark huts and soughtsleep.

　　But Braxton Wyatt, the renegade, could not sleep. His evilspirit warned him to rise and go to the huts, where the tworemaining prisoners were kept. It was then about one o'clock inthe morning, and as he passed he saw the Onondaga runner at thedoor of one of the prison lodges. He was about to cry out, butthe Onondaga turned and struck him such a violent blow with thebutt of a pistol, snatched from under his deerskin tunic, that hefell senseless. When a Mohawk sentinel found and revived him anhour later, the door of the hut was open, and the oldest of theprisoners, the one called Ross, was gone.

　　Now, indeed, were the Iroquois certain that the Spirit of Evilwas among them. When great chiefs like Timmendiquas andThayendanegea were deceived, how could a common warrior hope toescape its wicked influence!

　　But Braxton Wyatt, with a sore and aching head, lay all day on abed of skins, and his friend, Moses Blackstaffe, could give himno comfort.

　　The following night the camp was swept by a sudden and tremendousstorm of thunder and lightning, wind and rain. Many of thelodges were thrown down, and when the storm finally whirleditself away, it was found that the last of the prisoners, he ofthe long arms and long legs, had gone on the edge of the blast.

　　Truly the Evil Spirit had been hovering over the Iroquoisvillage.