CHAPTER XIV
HORNETS WITH AND WITHOUT WINGS
During François’s visit a runner came in with the report that two Indians, descending the Ohio River in a canoe, had been fired upon and killed by the whites. Inflamed by the brandy they had drank, and infuriated by the report, several of the younger men blacked their faces, set up a war post and danced around it in the firelight like demons, yelling and throwing their hatchets into the post. The following morning a party of them set out for revenge.
On such occasions Rodney kept in hiding as much as possible and his mind was dark with forebodings, so that he would wake in the night from dreams of torture and find himself wet with perspiration.
A little later Logan himself came to the village, pleading that the Indians dig up the hatchet and unite in a war of revenge upon the whites for the outrage committed against him. He was a distinguished looking Indian, straight and tall, a typical chieftain of the better sort. Ahneota pleaded the necessity of delay, 113 but, that being of no avail, urged him to secure the services of Cornstalk, the wise and wily Shawnee chief.
Rodney sympathized with the Indians until a returning party brought back scalps torn from the heads of women and children as well as from men, and then his heart sickened and he looked on them with trembling to see if among them he could discover that of his father.
Having no rifle, the boy armed himself with the bow, this being his only defence in case of attack, though he knew it would be of little use against savages armed with rifles. One day, in the latter part of July, he was strolling through the forest not far from the village when he heard voices.
During his captivity Rodney had learned to stalk game and this training he now put to use. Stealthily approaching, he saw a group of strange Indians, and with them Caughnega. The latter had set up, in a little opening among the trees, his wigwam of skins, in which he was accustomed to perform certain of the rites of a “medicine man.” The boy knew that Caughnega’s fame was not confined to the local tribes, and at once concluded these Indians had come to consult him, probably as to what the spirits, good and evil, might have to say respecting the approaching war.
Evidently Caughnega had begun his work, for he was now ready to enter his wigwam. Silence came upon the group waiting patiently outside. After quite a long wait a medley of sounds issued from the interior 114 of the wigwam in which Caughnega was shut and the structure itself rocked as if in a gale. Knowing that Indians can mimic the sounds of all animals and birds with which they are acquainted, the boy had no doubt these sounds were made by Caughnega himself. If so, he was certainly an artist, and the assembled group sat around awestruck, for they had no doubt the noises were made by the spirits.