Chapter XXII. Little Beard's Town

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　The trumpets called early the next morning, and the five rose,refreshed, ready for new labors. The fires were already lighted,and breakfast was cooking. Savory odors permeated the forest.But as soon as all had eaten, the army marched, going northwardand westward, intending to cut through the very center of theIroquois country. Orders had come from the great commander thatthe power of the Six Nations, which had been so long such aterrible scourge on the American frontier, must be annihilated.They must be made strangers in their own country. Women andchildren were not to be molested, but their towns must perish.

　　As Thayendanegea had said the night before the Battle of theChemung, the power beyond the seas that had urged the Iroquois towar on the border did not save them. It could not. British andTories alike had promised them certain victory, and for a whileit had seemed that the promises would come true. But the tidehad turned, and the Iroquois were fugitives in their own country.

　　The army continued its march through the wilderness, the scoutsin front and heavy parties of riflemen on either flank. Therewas no chance for a surprise. Henry and his comrades were awarethat Indian bands still lurked in the forest, and they hadseveral narrow escapes from the bullets of ambushed foes, but theprogress of the army was irresistible. Nothing could check itfor a moment, however much the Indian and Tory chiefs might plan.

　　They camped again that night in the forest, with a thorough ringof sentinels posted against surprise, although there was littledanger of the latter, as the enemy could not, for the present atleast, bring a sufficient force into the field. But after themoon had risen, the five, with Heemskerk, went ahead through theforest. The Iroquois town of Kanawaholla lay just ahead, and thearmy would reach it on the morrow. It was the intention of thescouts to see if it was still occupied.

　　It was near midnight when the little party drew near toKanawaholla and watched it from the shelter of the forest. Likemost other Iroquois towns, it contained wooden houses, andcultivated fields were about it. No smoke rose from any of thechimneys, but the sharp eyes of the scouts saw loaded figuresdeparting through a great field of ripe and waving corn. It wasthe last of the inhabitants, fleeing with what they could carry.Two or three warriors might have been in that group of fugitives,but the scouts made no attempt to pursue. They could notrestrain a little feeling of sympathy and pity, although a justretribution was coming.

　　"If the Iroquois had only stood neutral at the beginning of thewar, as we asked them," said Heemskerk, "how much might have beenspared to both sides! Look! Those people are stopping for amoment."

　　The burdened figures, perhaps a dozen, halted at the far edge ofthe corn field. Henry and Paul readily imagined that they weretaking a last look at their town, and the feeling of pity andsympathy deepened, despite Wyoming, Cherry Valley, and all therest. But that feeling never extended to the white allies of theIroquois, whom Thayendanegea characterized in word and in writingas "more savage than the savages themselves."

　　The scouts waited an hour, and then entered the town. Not a soulwas in Kanawaholla. Some of the lighter things had been takenaway, but that was all. Most of the houses were in disorder,showing the signs of hasty flight, but the town lay wholly at themercy of the advancing army. Henry and his comrades withdrewwith the news, and the next day, when the troops advanced,Kanawaholla was put to the torch. In an hour it was smokingruins, and then the crops and fruit trees were destroyed.

　　Leaving ruin behind, the army continued its march, treading theIroquois power under foot and laying waste the country. Oneafter another the Indian towns were destroyed, Catherinetown,Kendaia, Kanadesaga, Shenanwaga, Skoiyase, Kanandaigua, Honeyoye,Kanaghsawa, Gathtsewarohare, and others, forming a long roll,bearing the sounding Iroquois names. Villages around Cayuga andother lakes were burned by detachments. The smoke of perishingtowns arose everywhere in the Iroquois country, while theIroquois themselves fled before the advancing army. They sentappeal after appeal for help from those to whom they had given somuch help, but none came.

　　It was now deep autumn, and the nights grew cold. The forestsblazed with brilliant colors. The winds blew, leaves rustled andfell. The winter would soon be at hand, and the Iroquois, soproud of what they had achieved, would have to find what shelterthey could in the forests or at the British posts on the Canadianfrontier. Thayendanegea was destined to come again with bands ofred men and white and inflict great loss, but the power of theSix Nations was overthrown forever, after four centuries ofvictory and glory. Henry, Paul, and the rest were all the timein the thick of it. The army, as the autumn advanced, marchedinto the Genesee Valley, destroying everything. Henry and Paul,as they lay on their blankets one night, counted fires in threedifferent directions, and every one of the three marked aperishing Indian village. It was not a work in which they tookany delight; on the contrary, it often saddened them, but theyfelt that it had to be done, and they could not shirk the task.

　　In October, Henry, despite his youth, took command of a body ofscouts and riflemen which beat up the ways, and skirmished inadvance of the army. It was a democratic little band, everyonesaying what he pleased, but yielding in the end to the authorityof the leader. They were now far up the Genesee toward the GreatLakes, and Henry formed the plan of advancing ahead of the armyon the great Seneca village known variously as the Seneca Castleand Little Beard's Town, after its chief, a full match in crueltyfor the older Seneca chief, Hiokatoo. Several causes led to thisdecision. It was reported that Thayendanegea, Timmendiquas, allthe Butlers and Johnsons, and Braxton Wyatt were there. Whilenot likely to be true about all, it was probably true about someof them, and a bold stroke might effect much.

　　It is probable that Henry had Braxton Wyatt most in mind. Therenegade was in his element among the Indians and Tories, and hehad developed great abilities as a partisan, being skillfullyseconded by the squat Tory, Coleman. His reputation now wasequal at least to that of Walter Butler, and he had skirmishedmore than once with the vanguard of the army. Growing in Henry'sheart was a strong desire to match forces with him, and it wasquite probable that a swift advance might find him at the SenecaCastle.

　　The riflemen took up their march on a brisk morning in lateautumn. The night had been clear and cold, with a touch ofwinter in it, and the brilliant colors of the foliage had nowturned to a solid brown. Whenever the wind blew, the leaves fellin showers. The sky was a fleecy blue, but over hills, valley,and forest hung a fine misty veil that is the mark of Indiansummer. The land was nowhere inhabited. They saw the cabin ofneither white man nor Indian. A desolation and a silence,brought by the great struggle, hung over everything. Manydiscerning eyes among the riflemen noted the beauty and fertilityof the country, with its noble forests and rich meadows. Attimes they caught glimpses of the river, a clear stream sparklingunder the sun.

　　"Makes me think o' some o' the country 'way down thar inKentucky," said Shif'less Sol, "an' it seems to me I like oneabout ez well ez t'other. Say, Henry, do you think we'll ever goback home? 'Pears to me that we're always goin' farther an'farther away."

　　Henry laughed.

　　"It's because circumstances have taken us by the hand and led usaway, Sol," he replied.

　　"Then," said the shiftless one with a resigned air, "I hope themsame circumstances will take me by both hands, an' lead megently, but strongly, back to a place whar thar is peace an' restfur a lazy an' tired man like me."

　　"I think you'll have to endure a lot, until next spring atleast," said Henry.

　　The shiftless one heaved a deep sigh, but his next words werewholly irrelevant.

　　"S'pose we'll light on that thar Seneca Castle by tomorrownight?" he asked.

　　"It seems to me that for a lazy and tired man you're extremelyanxious for a fight," Henry replied.

　　"I try to be resigned," said Shif'less Sol. But his eyes weresparkling with the light of battle.

　　They went into camp that night in a dense forest, with the SenecaCastle about ten miles ahead. Henry was quite sure that theSenecas to whom it belonged had not yet abandoned it, and withthe aid of the other tribes might make a stand there. It wasmore than likely, too, that the Senecas had sharpshooters andsentinels well to the south of their town, and it behooved theriflemen to be extremely careful lest they run into a hornet'snest. Hence they lighted no fires, despite a cold night windthat searched them through until they wrapped themselves in theirblankets.

　　The night settled down thick and dark, and the band lay close inthe thickets. Shif'less Sol was within a yard of Henry. He hadobserved his young leader's face closely that day, and he had amind of uncommon penetration.

　　"Henry," he whispered, "you're hopin' that you'll find BraxtonWyatt an' his band at Little Beard's town?"

　　"That among other things," replied Henry in a similar whisper.

　　"That first, and the others afterwards," persisted the shiftlessone.

　　"It may be so," admitted Henry.

　　"I feel the same way you do," said Shif'less Sol. "You see,we've knowed Braxton Wyatt a long time, an' it seems strange thatone who started out a boy with you an' Paul could turn so black.An' think uv all the cruel things that he's done an' helped todo. I ain't hidin' my feelin's. I'm jest itchin' to git athim."

　　"Yes," said Henry, "I'd like for our band to have it out withhis."

　　Henry and Shif'less Sol, and in fact all of the five, slept thatnight, because Henry wished to be strong and vigorous for thefollowing night, in view of an enterprise that he had in mind.The rosy Dutchman, Heemskerk, was in command of the guard, and herevolved continually about the camp with amazing ease, and with afootstep so light that it made no sound whatever. Now and thenhe came back in the thicket and looked down at the faces of thesleeping five from Kentucky. "Goot boys," he murmured tohimself. "Brave boys, to stay here and help. May they gothrough all our battles and take no harm. The goot and great Godoften watches over the brave."

　　Mynheer Cornelius Heemskerk, native of Holland, but devoted tothe new nation of which he had made himself a part, was a devoutman, despite a life of danger and hardship. The people of thewoods do not lose faith, and he looked up at the dark skies as ifhe found encouragement there. Then he resumed his circle aboutthe camp. He heard various noises-the hoot of an owl, the longwhine of a wolf, and twice the footsteps of deer going down tothe river to drink. But the sounds were all natural, made by theanimals to which they belonged, and Heemskerk knew it. Once ortwice he went farther into the forest, but he found nothing toindicate the presence of a foe, and while he watched thus, andbeat up the woods, the night passed, eventless, away.

　　They went the next day much nearer to the Seneca Castle, and sawsure indications that it was still inhabited, as the Iroquoisevidently were not aware of the swift advance of the riflemen.Henry had learned that this was one of the largest and strongestof all the Iroquois towns, containing between a hundred and twohundred wooden houses, and with a population likely to be swollengreatly by fugitives from the Iroquois towns already destroyed.The need of caution-great caution-was borne in upon him, and hepaid good heed.

　　The riflemen sought another covert in the deep forest, now aboutthree miles from Little Beard's Town, and lay there, while Henry,according to his plan, went forth at night with Shif'less Sol andTom Ross. He was resolved to find out more about this importanttown, and his enterprise was in full accord with his duties,chief among which was to save the vanguard of the army fromambush.

　　When the complete darkness of night had come, the three left thecovert, and, after traveling a short distance through the forest,turned in toward the river. As the town lay on or near theriver, Henry thought they might see some signs of Indian life onthe stream, and from this they could proceed to discoveries.

　　But when they first saw the river it was desolate. Not a canoewas moving on its surface, and the three, keeping well in theundergrowth, followed the bank toward the town. But the forestsoon ceased, and they came upon a great field, where the Senecashad raised corn, and where stalks, stripped of their ears andbrowned by the autumn cold, were still standing. But all thework of planting, tending, and reaping this great field, like allthe other work in all the Iroquois fields, had been done by theIroquois women, not by the warriors.

　　Beyond the field they saw fruit trees, and beyond these, faintlines of smoke, indicating the position of the great SenecaCastle. The dry cornstalks rustled mournfully as the wind blewacross the field.

　　"The stalks will make a little shelter," said Henry, "and we mustcross the field. We want to keep near the river."

　　"Lead on," said Shif'less Sol.

　　They took a diagonal course, walking swiftly among the stalks andbearing back toward the river. They crossed the field withoutbeing observed, and came into a thick fringe of trees andundergrowth along the river. They moved cautiously in thisshelter for a rod or two, and then the three, without word fromany one of them, stopped simultaneously. They heard in the waterthe unmistakable ripple made by a paddle, and then the sound ofseveral more. They crept to the edge of the bank and croucheddown among the bushes. Then they saw a singular procession.

　　A half-dozen Iroquois canoes were moving slowly up the stream.They were in single file, and the first canoe was the largest.But the aspect of the little fleet was wholly different from thatof an ordinary group of Iroquois war canoes. It was dark,somber, and funereal, and in every canoe, between the feet of thepaddlers, lay a figure, stiff and impassive, the body of a chiefslain in battle. It had all the appearance of a funeralprocession, but the eyes of the three, as they roved over it,fastened on a figure in the first canoe, and, used as they wereto the strange and curious, every one of them gave a start.

　　The figure was that of a woman, a wild and terrible creature, whohalf sat, half crouched in the canoe, looking steadily downward.Her long black hair fell in disordered masses from her uncoveredhead. She wore a brilliant red dress with savage adornments, butit was stained and torn. The woman's whole attitude expressedgrief, anger, and despair.

　　"Queen Esther!" whispered Henry. The other two nodded.

　　So horrifying had been the impression made upon him by this womanat Wyoming that he could not feel any pity for her now. Thepicture of the great war tomahawk cleaving the heads of boundprisoners was still too vivid. She had several sons, one or twoof whom were slain in battle with the colonists, and the bodythat lay in the boat may have been one of them. Henry alwaysbelieved that it was-but he still felt no pity.

　　As the file came nearer they heard her chanting a low song, andnow she raised her face and tore at her black hair.

　　"They're goin' to land," whispered Shif'less Sol.

　　The head of the file was turned toward the shore, and, as itapproached, a group of warriors, led by Little Beard, the Senecachief, appeared among the trees, coming forward to meet them.The three in their covert crouched closer, interested sointensely that they were prepared to brave the danger in order toremain. But the absorption of the Iroquois in what they wereabout to do favored the three scouts.

　　As the canoes touched the bank, Catharine Montour rose from hercrouching position and uttered a long, piercing wail, so full ofgrief, rage, and despair that the three in the bushes shuddered.It was fiercer than the cry of a wolf, and it came back from thedark forest in terrifying echoes.

　　"It's not a woman, but a fiend," whispered Henry; and, as before,his comrades nodded in assent.

　　The woman stood erect, a tall and stalwart figure, but the beautythat had once caused her to be received in colonial capitals waslong since gone. Her white half of blood had been submergedyears ago in her Indian half, and there was nothing now about herto remind one of civilization or of the French Governor Generalof Canada who was said to have been her father.

　　The Iroquois stood respectfully before her. It was evident thatshe had lost none of her power among the Six Nations, a powerproceeding partly from her force and partly from superstition.As the bodies were brought ashore, one by one, and laid upon theground, she uttered the long wailing cry again and again, and theothers repeated it in a sort of chorus.

　　When the bodies-and Henry was sure that they must all be those ofchiefs-were laid out, she tore her hair, sank down upon theground, and began a chant, which Tom Ross was afterwards able tointerpret roughly to the others. She sang:

　　The white men have come with the cannon and bayonet, Numerous as forest leaves the army has come. Our warriors are driven like deer by the hunter, Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee! Our towns are burned and our fields uprooted, Our people flee through the forest for their lives, The king who promised to help us comes not. Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee! The great chiefs are slain and their bodies lie here. No longer will they lead the warriors in battle; No more will they drive the foe from the thicket. Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee! Scalps we have taken from all who hated us; None, but feared us in the days of our glory. But the cannon and bayonet have taken our country; Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!She chanted many verses, but these were all that Tom Ross couldever remember or translate. But every verse ended with themelancholy refrain: "Fallen is the League of theHo-de-no-sau-nee!" which the others also repeated in chorus.Then the warriors lifted up the bodies, and they moved inprocession toward the town. The three watched them, but they didnot rise until the funeral train had reached the fruit trees.Then they stood up, looked at one another, and breathed sighs ofrelief.

　　"I don't care ef I never see that woman ag'in," said Shif'lessSol. "She gives me the creeps. She must be a witch huntin' forblood. She is shore to stir up the Iroquois in this town."

　　"That's true," said Henry, "but I mean to go nearer."

　　"Wa'al," said Tom Ross, "I reckon that if you mean it we mean it,too."

　　"There are certainly Tories in the town," said Henry, and if weare seen we can probably pass for them. I'm bound to find outwhat's here."

　　"Still huntin' fur Braxton Wyatt," said Shif'less Sol.

　　"I mean to know if he's here," said Henry.

　　"Lead on," said the shiftless one.

　　They followed in the path of the procession, which was now out ofsight, and entered the orchard. From that point they saw thehouses and great numbers of Indians, including squaws andchildren, gathered in the open spaces, where the funeral trainwas passing. Queen Esther still stalked at its head, but herchant was now taken up by many scores of voices, and the volumeof sound penetrated far in the night. Henry yet relied upon theabsorption of the Iroquois in this ceremonial to give him achance for a good look through the town, and he and his comradesadvanced with boldness.

　　They passed by many of the houses, all empty, as their occupantshad gone to join in the funeral lament, but they soon saw whitemen-a few of the Royal Greens, and some of the Rangers, and otherTories, who were dressed much like Henry and his comrades. Oneof them spoke to Shif'less Sol, who nodded carelessly and passedby. The Tory seemed satisfied and went his way.

　　"Takes us fur some o' the crowd that's come runnin' in here aheado' the army," said the shiftless one.

　　Henry was noting with a careful eye the condition of the town.He saw that no preparations for defense had been made, and therewas no evidence that any would be made. All was confusion anddespair. Already some of the squaws were fleeing, carrying heavyburdens. The three coupled caution with boldness. If they met aTory they merely exchanged a word or two, and passed swiftly on.Henry, although he had seen enough to know that the army couldadvance without hesitation, still pursued the quest. Shif'lessSol was right. At the bottom of Henry's heart was a desire toknow whether Braxton Wyatt was in Little Beard's Town, a desiresoon satisfied, as they reached the great Council House, turned acorner of it, and met the renegade face to face.

　　Wyatt was with his lieutenant, the squat Tory, Coleman, and heuttered a cry when he saw the tall figure of the great youth.There was no light but that of the moon, but he knew his foe inan instant.

　　"Henry Ware!" he cried, and snatched his pistol from his belt.

　　They were so close together that Henry did not have time to use aweapon. Instinctively he struck out with his fist, catchingWyatt on the jaw, and sending him down as if he had been shot.Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross ran bodily over Coleman, hurling himdown, and leaping across his prostrate figure. Then they rantheir utmost, knowing that their lives depended on speed andskill.

　　They quickly put the Council House between them and theirpursuers, and darted away among the houses. Braxton Wyatt wasstunned, but he speedily regained his wits and his feet.

　　"It was the fellow Ware, spying among us again! be cried to hislieutenant, who, half dazed, was also struggling up. "Come, men!After them! After them!"

　　A dozen men came at his call, and, led by the renegade, theybegan a search among the houses. But it was hard to find thefugitives. The light was not good, many flitting figures wereabout, and the frantic search developed confusion. Other Torieswere often mistaken for the three scouts, and were overhauled,much to their disgust and that of the overhaulers. Iroquois,drawn from the funeral ceremony, began to join in the hunt, butWyatt could give them little information. He had merely seen anenemy, and then the enemy had gone. It was quite certain thatthis enemy, or, rather, three of them, was still in the town.

　　Henry and his comrades were crafty. Trained by ambush andescape, flight and pursuit, they practiced many wiles to deceivetheir pursuers. When Wyatt and Coleman were hurled down they ranaround the Council House, a large and solid structure, and,finding a door on the opposite side and no one there or in sightfrom that point, they entered it, closing the door behind them.

　　They stood in almost complete darkness, although at length theymade out the log wall of the great, single room which constitutedthe Council House. After that, with more accustomed eyes, theysaw on the wall arms, pipes, wampum, and hideous trophies, somewith long hair and some with short. The hair was usually blonde,and most of the scalps had been stretched tight over littlehoops. Henry clenched his fist in the darkness.

　　"Mebbe we're walkin' into a trap here," said Shif'less Sol.

　　"I don't think so," said Henry. "At any rate they'd find us ifwe were rushing about the village. Here we at least have achance."

　　At the far end of the Council House hung mats, woven of rushes,and the three sat down behind them in the very heart of theIroquois sanctuary. Should anyone casually enter the CouncilHouse they would still be hidden. They sat in Turkish fashion onthe floor, close together and with their rifles lying acrosstheir knees. A thin light filtered through a window and threwpallid streaks on the floor, which they could see when theypeeped around the edge of the mats. But outside they heard veryclearly the clamor of the hunt as it swung to and fro in thevillage. Shif'less Sol chuckled. It was very low, but it was achuckle, nevertheless, and the others heard.

　　"It's sorter takin' an advantage uv 'em," said the shiftless one,"layin' here in thar own church, so to speak, while they'reragin' an' tearin' up the earth everywhar else lookin' fur us.Gives me a mighty snug feelin', though, like the one you havewhen you're safe in a big log house, an' the wind an' the hailan' the snow are beatin' outside."

　　"You're shorely right, Sol," said Tom Ross.

　　"Seems to me," continued the irrepressible Sol, "that you did gitin a good lick at Braxton Wyatt, after all. Ain't he unhappynow, bitin' his fingers an' pawin' the earth an' findin' nothin'?I feel real sorry, I do, fur Braxton. It's hard fur a nice youngfeller to have to suffer sech disappointments."

　　Shif'less Sol chuckled again, and Henry was forced to smile inthe darkness. Shif'less Sol was not wholly wrong. It would be abitter blow to Braxton Wyatt. Moreover, it was pleasant wherethey sat. A hard floor was soft to them, and as they leanedagainst the wall they could relax and rest.

　　"What will our fellows out thar in the woods think?" asked TomRoss.

　　"They won't have to think," replied Henry. "They'll sit quiet aswe're doing and wait."

　　The noise of the hunt went on for a long time outside. War whoopscame from different points of the village. There were shrillcries of women and children, and the sound of many running feet.After a while it began to sink, and soon after that they heard nomore noises than those of people preparing for flight. Henryfelt sure that the town would be abandoned on the morrow, but hisdesire to come to close quarters with Braxton Wyatt was as strongas ever. It was certain that the army could not overtake Wyatt'sband, but he might match his own against it. He was thinking ofmaking the attempt to steal from the place when, to their greatamazement, they heard the door of the Council House open andshut, and then footsteps inside.

　　Henry looked under the edge of the hanging mat and saw two duskyfigures near the window.