“You will not deceive me, Corny,” whispered Mary Wallace, pressing my hand at leave-taking, in both her own. “I know I can depend on you, for he boasts of being your friend.”
Anneke's painful smile added force to this request, and I tore myself away unwilling to quit such a sufferer, yet unable to remain. Herman Mordaunt was seen conversing with Susquesus, in the court, and I joined him at once, determined to lose no time.
“I was speaking to the Trackless on this very subject,” answered Herman Mordaunt, as soon as I had explained my purpose, “and am now waiting for his answer. Do you think it, then, safe to send a messenger out to the Hurons, in order to inquire after our friends, and to treat with them!”
“No send?—Why not?” returned the Indian. “Red man glad to see messenger. Go when he want; come back when he want. How can make bargain, if scalp messenger?”
I had heard that the most savage tribes respected a messenger; and, indeed, the necessity of so doing was, of itself, a sort of security that such must be the case. It was true, that the bearer of a flag might be in more danger, on such an errand, than would be the case in a camp of civilized men; but these Canada-Indians had been long serving with the French, and their chiefs, beyond a question, had obtained some of the notions of pale-face warfare. Without much reflection, therefore, and under an impulse in behalf of my friend, and my slave—for Jaap's fate was of lively interest with me—I volunteered to bear a flag myself. Herman Mordaunt shook his head, and seemed reluctant to comply.
“Anneke would hardly pardon me for consenting to that,” he answered. “You must remember, now, Corny, that a very tender and sensitive heart is bound up in you, and you must no longer act like a thoughtless, single man. It would be far better to send this Onondago, if he will agree to go. He understands the red men, and will be able to interpret the omens with more certainty, than any of us, What say you, Susquesus; will you be a messenger to the Hurons?”
“Sartain;—why no go, if he want? Good to be messenger, sometime. Where wampum—what tell him?”
Thus encouraged, we deliberated together, and soon had Susquesus in readiness to depart. As for the Indian, he laid aside all his arms, washed the war-paint from his face, put a calico shirt over his shoulders, and assumed the guise of peace. We gave him a small, white flag to carry, feeling certain that the Huron chiefs must understand its meaning; and thinking it might be better, in bearing a message from pale-faces, that he who carried it should have a pale-face symbol of his errand. Susquesus found some wampum, too; having as much faith in that, probably, as in anything else. He then set forth, being charged to offer liberal ransom to the Hurons, for the living, uninjured bodies of Guert Ten Eyck and Jaap Satanstoe.
We entertained no doubt that the enemy would be found in the ravine, for that was the point, in every respect, most favourable to the operations of the siege; being near the house, having a perfect cover, possessing water, wood, and other conveniences. From that point the Nest could be watched, and any favourable chance improved. Thither, then, Susquesus was told to proceed; though it was not thought advisable to fetter one so shrewd, with too many instructions. Several of us accompanied the Onondago to the gate, and saw him moving across the fields, towards the wood, in his usual loping trot. A bird could scarcely have flown more directly to its object.
The half-hour that succeeded the disappearance of Susquesus, in the mouth of the ravine, was one of intensely painful suspense. We all remained without the gate, waiting the result, including Dirck, Mr. Worden, Jason, and half-a-dozen of the settlers. At length the Onondago reappeared; and, to our great joy, a group followed him, in which were both the prisoners. The last were bound, but able to walk. This party might have contained a dozen of the enemy, all of whom were armed. It moved slowly out of the ravine, and ascended to the fields that were on a level with the house, halting when about four hundred yards from us. Seeing this movement, we counted out exactly the same number of men, and went forward, halting at a distance of two hundred yards from the Indians. Here we waited for our messenger, who continued on, after the Hurons had come to a stand. Thus far everything looked propitious.