“I hopes, Masser Corny, sah,” commenced the negro, “you doesn't t'ink anyt'ing of what dis here Injin say?”
“I think, Jaap, it will be necessary for you to keep you eyes open, and by no means to fall into the hands of your friend Muss, as you call him, or he may serve you even worse than he served poor Pete. I hope, too, this will be warning to you, of the necessity of treating your prisoners kindly, should you ever make another.”
“I don't t'ink, Masser Corny, you consider pretty much, sah. What good it do a nigger to captivate an Injin, if he let him go ag'in, and don't lick him little? Only little, Masser Corny. Ebbery t'ing so handy too, sah—rope all ready, back bare, and feelin' up, like, after such a time in takin' 'e varmint, sah!”
“Well, Jaap, what is done, is done, and there is no use in regretting it, in words. Of one thing, however, you may be certain; no mercy will be shown you, should this fellow, Muss, be actually out here, on our heels, and should you be so unfortunate as to fall into his hands.”
The negro growled out his discontent, and I could see that his mind was made up to give stout battle, ere his wool should be disturbed by the knife of a savage. A moment later, he stepped aside, and respectfully permitted Dirck to take his proper place, next to me, in the line.
We may have proceeded two miles from the spot where we had buried Sam, the hunter, when on rising a little hillock, the Indian tossed his arm, the sign that a new discovery was made. This time, however, the gesture was rather made in exultation than in horror. As he came to a dead halt at the same instant, we all closed eagerly up, and got an early view of the cause of this exhibition of feeling.
The ground fell away, in a sort of swell, for some distance in our front; and, the trees being all of the largest size, and totally without underbrush, the place had somewhat of the appearance of a vast, forest edifice, to which the canopy of leaves above formed the roof, and the stems of oaks, lindens, beeches and maples, might be supposed to be the columns that upheld it. Within this wide, gloomy, yet not unpleasant hall, a sombre light prevailed, like that which is cast through the casements of an edifice of the ancient style of architecture, rendering everything mellow and grave. A spring of sweet water gushed from a rock, and near it were seated, in a circle, Mr. Traverse and his two chain-bearers, seemingly taking their morning's meal; or, rather, reclining after it, with the pail, platters and fragments before them; like men reposing after appeasing their hunger, and passing a few minutes in idle talk. Tom, the second hunter and axe-man, lay asleep, a little apart.
“Here has been even no alarm, thank Got,” said Guert, cheerfully, “and we are in time to let them know their danger. I will give the call; it will sound sweetly to their ears!”
“No call,” said Trackless, quickly; “hollow no good, now. Soon get there, and tell him, in low voice.”
As this was clearly prudent, we pushed forward in a body, taking no pains, however, to conceal our approach, but making somewhat of a measured tread, with our footsteps. A strange sensation came over me, as we advanced, and I found that neither of the surveyors stirred! A suspicion of the dread truth forced itself on my mind; but I can hardly say that the shock was any the less, when, on getting near, we saw by the pallid countenances, fixed, glassy eyes, and fallen jaws, that all our friends were dead. The savage ingenuity of Indians had propped the bodies in reclining positions, and thrown them into attitudes that had a horrible resemblance to the species of indulgence that I have just described.