Chapter Eight.
Obed’s story continued—Noggin rescued by the chief’s daughter—Sam and Blount retire, hoping that he may be happy—They continue their wanderings—Blount’s death—Sam proceeds alone—Captured by the red-skins—They prepare to kill him—Not liking it, he endeavours to escape from it—Escape and pursuit—A ride for life—Hard pressed for food—Obed’s adventures—How he escaped from the bear—The faithful Delaware.
“So you all want to know what became of poor Noggin,” said Dick, leaning back in his comfortable arm-chair, after he had taken a sip from his claret glass, and stretching out his legs on the thick buffalo-skin which served as a rug to his cosy dining-room fire-place. “I’ll continue the narrative as old Short told it to me, though not exactly in his own words, for those I cannot pretend to repeat—I cannot even hope to imitate his quaint expressions and racy humour. Noggin stood the attacks of his tormentors with as much heroism as could the most stoical of red warriors. We longed to rush in to his rescue, but we knew full well that the attempt would be worse than useless, and we should inevitably lose our own lives and not save his. The fires burned up brightly, shedding a lurid glare over the whole scene, making the red-painted and feather-bedizened warriors, and their hideous brown squaws, look more horrible and terrific than ever, as they danced, and leaped, and grinned, and shrieked round our friend. To make the picture perfect, you must remember the dark forest in the background, the tents covered with red-tanned skins, and the groups of children and dogs scuttling about in front of them, with the stakes, and the lean-to’s, and sheds of different sorts, on or in which the spoils of the chase and other provisions were hung to dry or smoke. Indians delight in prolonging the sufferings of their captives; so they, in their refined cruelty, took care not to wound the poor fellow in any vital part.
“After a short time the old squaws resharpened the points of their fire-sticks, and then they all advanced together, the warriors brandishing their tomahawks and shrieking louder than ever. Noggin eyed them all, however, with perfect coolness and disdain. I thought that his last moments had come. This conduct, though the savages admired it, only made them the more anxious to conquer his spirit. Several produced their instruments of torture to tear his flesh, and to pull out his eyes and his tongue, indeed, I will not describe all the excruciating cruelties they were prepared to inflict; I well-nigh gave way myself with horror, though my nerves were pretty well strung, when a young squaw, who had been sitting in the shadow of one of the tents, sprang up, and darting between the warriors and old women, before any of them could stop her, threw one of her arms round Noggin’s neck, and holding out her other hand, in a tone of authority ordered her savage country men and women to keep back, and claimed him as her husband. She was a fine, tall young woman, and though her skin was dark, her features were handsome and full of animation, while her eye sparkled with the spirit which burned in her bosom.
“‘Come, loose him, loose him,’ she cried, and we could understand her language. ‘He is mine. Let none of you dare to hurt a hair of his head.’
“I had heard of such things having been done before, but I did not much believe in them. It convinced me that woman has a tender, compassionate, loving heart in every country, and that man should prize it as one of the richest gifts which bounteous Nature has bestowed on him, and consider it one of the most cowardly of acts and the foulest of crimes to tamper with or betray it. The young girl was a chiefs daughter. Her people, as they were bound to do, obeyed her immediately. Noggin was released, and led by her to her tent. Instead of the torments he had been suffering, he found himself tended with the gentlest care which affection could dictate.
“Blount and I seeing this, made signs to each other that it was time for us to be off. In the morning the red-skins would be prowling about, and they would be too glad to get us instead of the victim who had escaped them. We were not likely to find another Poccahuntas to save our lives. We went back the way we had come, obliterating as best we could all traces of our advance, and at last, after many hardships, we reached our canoe. We had our rifles, but our ammunition was growing short, and we had no means of replenishing it; the winter also was coming on, and we were far from any white settlement. Still hunters are not to be frightened by trifles; we knew well not only how to trap beavers, but anything that flies, creeps, or swims, and we agreed that we would lay up a store of provisions, and spend the winter by the side of the river. To think with a hunter is to act. Our great want was salt. We caught soon a supply of fish, fowl, and deer, and we killed a bear, which made very good beef; but all these things we had to dry in the sun or to smoke; we kept our ammunition in case of any extremity in which we might find ourselves. We should have liked to have communicated with Noggin, but we knew that he, like many white men who had married Indian women, would be reconciled to his lot, and from henceforth live the life of Indians.
“We agreed, therefore, as soon as the return of spring enabled us to travel, we would take up our beaver skins and furs left in cache, and go back with them to the settlements. Had we been supplied with powder, we should not have hesitated at once to commence our journey, but unarmed, as we soon should be, we should have been both unable to supply ourselves with food, or to defend ourselves against any enemies we might meet; whereas in the spring we should descend rapidly in our canoe, and carry our provisions with us.