The Forest King Read online

  CHAPTER III.

  Summer had resigned her sway to Autumn in the green valleys of theSusquehanna and her tributaries, which spread out among the hills likethe branches of some mighty forest tree, over whose curving and playfulwaters the green plumes of the forest trees had waved during the summer,now changed with the season; and Summer, the queen of flowers andripening fruit, had wrapped herself in a mantle of green, and laid downto die as the sun gradually declined to southern skies and the AutumnQueen put on her gorgeous robes of many colors. The squirrel was seen toplay on nimble feet through oak and chestnut groves gathering in hiswinter store. The deer, with her fawn, wandered through the groveunmolested, excepting at such times as Mayall needed venison for his owntable.

  One day, while seated beneath the vine-clad porch of his cabin, wherethe vines had been trained by his wife to tie in leafy coil over thedoor, he saw a woman in homespun dress advancing with hurried steps,weeping and mourning as she advanced towards him, and fell exhausted athis feet. Mayall raised her from the ground and inquired the cause ofher grief. She soon recovered sufficiently to inform him that a party ofnine Indian hunters had been prowling about her cabin for a couple ofdays, and that morning they had stolen her little daughter Nelly, butfour years old, and bore her away in triumph without any regard to herscreams or the lamentations of her mother for her only child.

  Mayall listened with pity and grief to the poor woman's tale of woe, andimpatiently said, "Why did not your husband follow the black thieves andbring back your child?"

  "Oh dear," cried the poor woman, "what could he do with so manyIndians?"

  Mayall replied, "Follow them, and when a good opportunity offered, killthem, shoot the thieves and bring back your child. Better die like a manthan live a coward here in this forest land, dreaming of robber bandthat bore away his only child to be a slave in some proud savage's smokyhut."

  At this reply the woman became frantic with despair and cried out, "Oh,Mayall, for mercy save my child. You are the only man now living thatcan do it, and I will give you all I possess on earth and be your slavein the bargain."

  Mayall was not deaf to sympathy. The fire of revenge began to kindle inhis bosom; but how should he withstand the power and vengeance of ninebrave men skilled in battle and the chase? He sat silent for a fewmoments. The flames of revenge began to burn in his iron will, which,when aroused, was terrible. He inquired the direction the Indians hadgone with the child, and where their trail could be found, then told thewoman to go home and take a good night's rest; he said the Indians hadgone, and of course would not return unless they came to bring her Nellyback, and further she could do nothing to recover the child herself. Hethought the child would be returned in the morning.

  These words seemed to pacify her, and she returned home. As soon as hisonly neighbor, Miss Murphrey, was out of sight, Mayall examined histrusty gun and prepared cartridges equal to twice the number of Indians,placed his tomahawk and hunting-knife in his belt, then turned to hiswife and said, "You must not look for me until I return. I will be backas soon as my mission is accomplished."

  His mind then became calm and he sallied forth from his cottage ascheerful as a hunter in quest of game, and soon disappeared in theforest that surrounded his dwelling. The sun was descending towards thewestern hills in all her flaming glory as Mayall reached the summit ofthe dividing ridge between the Otego Creek and the Susquehanna Valley.Cautiously and slowly he descended the hill, keeping on the Indiantrail.

  As the shades of night hovered over the forest, Mayall left the trailand took his post on a small hill not far from the river, where he couldhear the Indians preparing wood for their evening fire, and occasionallyhe could hear the child, Nelly Murphrey, crying for its mother. Mayallcautiously advanced through the thick forest, guided by the sound of thechild's voice weeping and often calling for its mother, who lay wrappedin wakeful dreams several miles away. The voice of this weeping childnerved the old hunter's arm with the strength of a Samson, and filledhis heart with a vengeance not his own. The hours seemed to linger intodays as he lay crouched in the dark. At last the camp-fire of theIndians blazed up and illuminated the forest. Mayall lay secreted in alittle thicket behind a knoll, where he could hear every word that wassaid, and he well understood the Indian dialect.

  One Indian, who seemed to be their leader, said there would be no dangerunless they got the old hunter on the trail, and to avoid him they mustbe up and away as soon as the day-star appeared.

  The Indians partook of their evening meal and laid down to slumber andrest, not dreaming that the bold hunter, like the panther, was crouchingnear with sharpened tomahawk and knife, panting for an opportunity toavenge a woman's wrongs.

  As the night wore away all became silent, excepting an occasionaloutbreak from little Nelly Murphrey, calling for her mother. Thecamp-fire no longer blazed, but the dying coals were yet red, and gavesufficient light to see the nine dark forms stretched on the forestfloor. Mayall now began to move forward with cautious steps. He soondiscovered by the flickering of the embers that the Indian on the watchhad fallen asleep, with the stolen child nestling between him and theIndian warrior beside him.

  Mayall took a cautious look. No Indian in his blanket stirred. All wassilent, excepting the low murmuring of the Susquehanna rolling by. Henoiselessly rested his gun behind a tree, and leaped like a tiger uponhis prey, with his tomahawk in one hand, which he swung as fast as deathcould deal a blow, and his long knife gleaming by the light of the firein the other. The last Indian in the circle, wakened by the screams ofthe child, leaped from his leafy bed and fled into the forest with thespeed of a panther. Mayall, seeing his retreating form, sprang to theIndian's guns and fired three in quick succession after him, to speedhis flight, and then, gathering up the remaining guns as quickly aspossible, threw them upon the coals with the muzzles in the directionthe Indian had gone, in order to keep up the firing until he could getout of hearing with the affrighted child before the Indian returned. Hethen took up Nelly, who was half dead with fright, and hurried off inthe opposite direction as fast as possible. The sharp report of one gunafter another broke the stillness of night until Mayall had got morethan two miles from the bloody conflict with his prize, and had soothedthe child's fears by softly whispering in her ear that he was carryingher home to her mamma.

  Mayall now diverged from the trail and reached the place of hisdestination by a circuitous route, at times traveling in the channel ofsmall brooks, in order to deceive the Indians, should they undertake tofollow on the trail, to avenge the blood of his tribesmen. Mayallhurried on with his prize. The stars had faded from his view, and themorning sun had lighted up the concave of the skies, before he couldreach the weeping mother with her little Nelly. Her mother had passed asleepless night, and her wakeful eye had been turned in every directionto see if she could catch a glimpse or a sound from her little Nelly.None but a mother could realize her pain and anguish at the loss of herlovely child. As she stood looking she fancied she heard the faint soundof her prattling voice. A moment later she saw Mayall come in full viewwith little Nelly in his arms. The fond mother, now as frantic with joyas she had been the previous day with grief, rushed to meet Mayall. Shemet him some distance from her cabin, and little Nelly leaped with joyinto her mother's arms as she fell at the feet of Mayall, to thank himfor restoring to her loved embrace her only child. Mayall raised her toher feet and said, "I have done no more than my duty, and I have no timeto waste. Swear to me before the God of Heaven that all that pertains tothe loss and return of this child shall be kept a secret whilst I live."

  After receiving her sacred promise not to reveal the secret, hedisappeared again in the forest, and there was no human being left atliberty to tell the frightful story of the Indians' fate, excepting theIndian that made good his retreat.

  The seasons rolled around, Autumn had again hung out her flag of manycolors, and Nelly Murphrey, under the fond care of her mother, had grownto be a beautiful little girl, with her auburn hair drooping fond
ly inringlets upon her shoulders, and appeared in all the beauty ofinnocence.

  Whilst the mother was seated at her door, playing with little Nelly, sheraised her eyes and saw a tall, stately Indian standing before her at arespectful distance. As soon as her eyes rested upon the Indian, sherecognized him as being one of the band that stole her child. As Nellysaw him she screamed and flew back into the house. The sudden screamseemed to freeze her mother's blood, and she sat as immovable as astatue. The Indian stood perfectly quiet, without coming nearer. Whenshe had recovered, he said he would not harm her nor her child; but shemust tell him who brought back her child. She told him she found thechild in the edge of the woods the next morning, and supposed that hehad returned it. He then told her he had not, and she must find out whoit was and let him know when he came around again. The mother watchedthe Indian until he disappeared in the forest, and then stealing awayslyly in the opposite direction, and by taking a circuitous route, soonreached Mayall's cottage, and told Mayall that one of the same Indiansthat had stolen her Nelly had been at her house, trying to find out whobrought her back. "I told him where I found her, and thought he had gottired of her and brought her back." Mayall then told her to go into hiscottage and remain there with his wife and children until he returned.Taking good care to keep the doors securely bolted, and the axe in thehouse to use if they were molested, Mayall then took down his gun,prepared some cartridges, put on his belt, with his tomahawk and knifedepending from it, and hanging by his side, and left the cottage.

  Night came, but the hunter did not return. There was no moon, but thestars shone forth in tranquil loveliness as the night wore away. Aboutmidnight they heard a noise outside and near the cottage, and they creptcautiously to the window, which was nearly as high as one's head, butnot of sufficient size to admit a common sized man, and lookedcautiously out, and Mayall's cow was in his garden. Mrs. Mayall thentold her that the Indian was near, and she must not show her head at thewindow, or she might be taken for her husband. The minutes now seemed todrag into hours, when that hungry cow was walking over the choice melonsand devouring them, and in a few moments more she was eating andstamping down the corn which they had cultivated with care for their owndomestic use. But time wore away, and all was still, excepting the cowin the garden. The sharp report of a gun was heard, and loud groansfollowed, which seemed to shake everything within like a clap ofmidnight thunder, and my brain seemed to reel, for deeds were going on Idare not look upon.

  Soon after, some one, whom I took to be Mayall, for I could see by thelight of the stars he had a gun in his hand, came and drove his cow outof the garden. Mrs. Mayall then told me her husband would be back in thecourse of an hour, and they would then be out of all danger; that herhusband was then near the house. Our fears seemed to vanish, and wecommenced talking and anticipating what had happened. Mrs. Mayall saidthe report was from her husband's gun; that she knew the sound from allother guns, and that, when in the hands of her husband, was sure deathagainst prowlers of the night, whether they walked on two feet or four.

  She then said she knew their game. The Indian had let the cow into thegarden, expecting that her husband would come out, whilst he laysecreted to kill him. She said Mayall never slept in his house when heknew there were Indians watching for him, but always kept near enough toprotect his house and family. Whilst we were anticipating what had beendone in the dark, Mayall suddenly knocked three times on the door, thenpaused and struck one. Mrs. Mayall, without farther hesitation, sprangto the door and opened it. I said, "How dare you open that door?" Shereplied that his knock was different from all other men; she said shecould tell by the day of the week, and no one knew the secret butherself.

  Mayall entered the house without saying a word, bolted the door afterhim, laid down his gun, knife and tomahawk, and after telling me that Icould go home in the morning if I chose, there would be no danger, hethen laid down on his bed of straw, and was sound asleep in less thanfive minutes; and when I left his cottage in the morning he was stillasleep. I took my little Nelly and returned to my cabin. Many strangethoughts passed through my troubled brain. Occasionally I seemed to hearthe sharp report of a rifle; and then how came the blood on thattomahawk? The Indian never appeared again, nor could there be any traceof him found.

  Roam on the high mountain's crest, fearless ranger, The Indian no more shall dye his coarse blanket In citizens' gore; he has left, aye, forever, the vales Where you met him, and fought for my Nelly, So gifted, so fair and so young.