“Let the witch burn his own foul nest,” the Seneca yelled in his native tongue, but the captive, trembling with anger and sickened by the awful scenes he was compelled to witness, understood and drew back. In vain two Delawares who held him sought to force him to take and apply the torch that a third held out. They burned his bare hands, set fire to his clothing and his hair, but to no purpose. He could not fight, but he could resist if it killed him, and resist John did, let the consequences be what they might.
“Ugh! Ugh!” loudly ejaculated one of the older Indians impatiently, at last, and grabbing the burning hickory bark from the one who tried vainly to make the prisoner take it, he carried it quickly into the lean-to stable.
In an instant the dry hay and fodder were in flames. In another minute the fire had reached the cabin. Soon the terrible glare filled all the clearing and while the home the boy pioneers had held so dear, and all the things within it which long association made them fondly cherish, turned black, then red and yielded at last to the crackling, roaring destroyer, the Indians danced about in savage celebration, brandishing tomahawks and scalping knives, yelling and shrieking like the untamed demons that they were.
CHAPTER XXII—THE MAN IN THE RAVINE
Very little time indeed was required for Return Kingdom to make clear to Fishing Bird the work he wished to do. The Delaware was decidedly surprised to learn that a white man, or men, of whom he knew nothing, were encamped near the Cuyahoga and he also exhibited the liveliest interest in the information Ree gave him concerning the two men murdered at the salt springs.
The probability that John Jerome had been captured, however, interested the Indian more than all else, though it distressed him, too. Repeatedly he shook his head with an air of utmost gravity and regret.
Gen. Wayne was a man who did things. Once his plans were formed, their execution went ahead without a moment’s unnecessary delay, and in a very short space of time he had caused men to be detailed to accompany Kingdom and his loyal friend.
The boy’s request that Sergeant Quayle be sent with him was promptly granted and that good-natured son of Erin with three others, all experienced woodsmen, gladly undertook the duty assigned them. They agreed with Kingdom, too, that a large force of men would not be needed, and that by care a small party would be able to accomplish more than a greater number. They would be far less likely to attract attention or invite an attack from ambush.
Late in the afternoon the well-armed band set out. By common consent Kingdom was given general command, though he took counsel always with the others. Only one circumstance marred his perfect confidence in the expedition. This was the distrustful manner in which two of the woodsmen constantly regarded Fishing Bird. They were Indian haters and Indian fighters. They could “see no good in ’ary a single red mother’s son of ’em,” as one of them expressed it, “and didn’t care who knowed it.”
The Sergeant, however, was more charitably inclined. Being of buoyant spirits, too, when somewhat relieved of the camp’s restraints, he kept everyone in a good humor with his droll remarks.