CHAPTER XVIII.
"And long shall timorous Fancy see
The painted chief and pointed spear;
And Reason's self shall bow the knee
To shadows and delusions here."
FRENEAU.
Deersfoot and Snake-tongue, with the two prisoners, after a short distance, met the main body of the Senecas. Beyond the grove was a small strip of partially cleared land, which was covered with a thick green-sward. Here the Indians halted, and immediately held a council, in which to deliberate upon the fate of their prisoners, and upon their future proceedings with reference to the cottage. When the failure of the negotiation was announced, the whole wrath of the Indians was concentrated upon the unfortunate attorney and his companion. In their eyes, the latter were answerable for all the wrongs which they fancied they had suffered from the pale-faces and their Tuscarora ally at the cottage.
Bagsley and the bailiff were placed in the centre of a circle of warriors. Rogers maintained a sullen silence, and surveyed the hostile countenances of the Senecas with a look of seeming indifference; but the attorney, from the moment that the unexpected refusal of Barton and Ralph to exchange him for the Tuscarora had shown him his imminent danger, remained seemingly stupefied with fear. But, as he beheld around him the assemblage of warriors, and a certain appearance of deliberation, he began to recover the use of his faculties. Perhaps, he thought that the act of deliberation implied a doubt of their actual intention; or, perhaps, seeing that he might have an opportunity to plead for his life, he placed some reliance upon his oratorical powers. But, whatever was the cause, it is certain that, in his appearance, he resumed a portion of his professional dignity of demeanor.
The warriors and their chiefs were assembled in council. Panther, as principal chief, occupied the most prominent situation; beside him sat Deersfoot and Snake-tongue, and two or three others, who were recognized as superior to the great mass of the Indians. When the assembly had finally assumed an appearance of order, the younger chief, whose name was Bearsclaw, arose to speak. He had never yet gained a reputation for oratory, and he assumed a modesty and humiliation that were proper to his station.
"Brothers," said he, "you know my name—it is Bearsclaw; it is a name which was given to me because I was thought to be strong in struggling with my enemy. I did not deserve it: I should have had a smaller name. I have not the tongue to speak; but I can tell what I think—I think these pale-faces should live. I think that we should keep them prisoners a little while, and then let them go. Shall I tell you why? They came to us freely; we did not take them! they have not wronged us. Perhaps I do not think right; I do not know but a little; but what I think I will speak. I see that you do not like my words, and I am sorry that you do not. If we kill them, we shall get into trouble. The pale-faces from the settlements will come out on the war-path, and will ravage our hunting grounds. I am not a coward—you have seen me in fight. My name is Bearsclaw. I cannot speak much; but I can tell what I think. I have spoken."
This speech was received in silence—a silence, perhaps, that implied dissatisfaction. But Bagsley argued from it a favorable result; for he thought a matter could not be predetermined, about which a chief had spoken, as if there was doubt as to the propriety of the course that had been threatened. When Bearsclaw sat down, Snake-tongue, as the chief next highest in rank arose and said:
"Brothers, you have heard the counsel of Bearsclaw: he has a large name. It is a great pity that a warrior with so brave a name, cannot be brave in speech. I do not think as he does. I am an Iroquois—of the nation of the Senecas. I have always been taught not to be afraid. Bearsclaw has said that the pale-faces from the settlements will follow us on the war-path. Let them come! We want to see them in the woods and fields. We do not want to see them skulking behind walls and log houses. Let them follow us into the woods: there is where I want to see them.
"I say that these pale-faces should die. They have been the cause of all our troubles. If it had not been for their fire-water to-day we should have tortured the brave that we tortured yesterday. He was a brave warrior, and it would have done us good to have tortured him. But he escaped; and how? The fire-water of these pale-faces made our young warriors careless, and we lost him; and we lost the pale-face squaw, and the squaw of Canendesha. We have lost, too, our pale-face friend; he has gone, and no one knows where. He was lost at the same time with the others. They have taken him and killed him. Should we let the pale-faces, who have done all this, go and laugh at us? No—let them die! They are not as brave as the warrior we had yesterday; but they will make sport for our young warriors. We shall be sorry if we do not take their scalps. We shall always think of it, and wish we had done it, when we think of our young men who have been killed in these forests. I have spoken."