Much food was given to the brave Lenni-Lenape, and he was sent to a lodge to rest.To-morrow he would be well, and he would be welcomed to the ranks of the Cayugas, a Younger nation.But when the morning came, the lodge was empty.The sick Lenni-Lenape was gone, and with him the boy, Paul, the youngest of the prisoners.
Guards bad been posted all around the camp, but evidently the two had slipped between.Brave and advanced as were the Iroquois, superstition seized upon them.Hah-gweli-da-et-gah was at work among them, coming in the form of the famished Lenni-Lenape.He had steeped them in a deep sleep, and then he had vanished with the prisoner in Se-oh (The Night).Perhaps lie had taken away the boy, who was one of a hated race, for some sacrifice or mystery of his own.The fears of the Iroquois rose.If the Spirit of Evil was among them, greater harm could be expected.
But the two renegades, Blackstaffe and Wyatt, raged.They did not believe in the interference of either good spirits or bad spirits, and just now their special hatred was a famished Lenni-Lenape warrior.
"Why on earth didn't I think of it?" exclaimed Wyatt."I'm sure now by his size that it was the fellow Hyde.Of Course he slipped to the lodge, let Cotter out, and they dodged about in the darkness until they escaped in the forest.I'll complain to Timmendiquas."He was as good as his word, speaking of the laxness of both Iroquois and Wyandots.The great White Lightning regarded him with an icy stare.
"You say that the boy, Cotter, escaped through carelessness?" he asked.
"I do," exclaimed Wyatt.
"Then why did you not prevent it?"
Wyatt trembled a little before the stern gaze of the chief.
Since when," continued Timmendiquas, "have you, a deserter front your own people, had the right to hold to account the head chief of the Wyandots?" Braxton Wyatt, brave though he undoubtedly was, trembled yet more.He knew that Timmendiquas did not like him, and that the Wyandot chieftain could make his position among the Indians precarious.
"I did not mean to say that it was the fault of anybody in particular," he exclaimed hastily, "but I've been hearing so much talk about the Spirit of Evil having a hand in this that Icouldn't keep front saying something.Of course, it was Henry Ware and Hyde who did it!""It may be," said Timmendiquas icily, "but neither the Manitou of the Wyandots, nor the Aieroski of the Iroquois has given to me the eyes to see everything that happens in the dark."Wyatt withdrew still in a rage, but afraid to say more.He and Blackstaffe held many conferences through the day, and they longed for the presence of Simon Girty, who was farther west.
That night an Onondaga runner arrived from one of the farthest villages of the Mohawks, far east toward Albany.He had been sent from a farther village, and was not known personally to the warriors in the great camp, but he bore a wampum belt of purple shells, the sign of war, and he reported directly to Thayendanegea, to whom he brought stirring and satisfactory words.After ample feasting, as became one who had come so far, he lay upon soft deerskins in one of the bark huts and sought sleep.
But Braxton Wyatt, the renegade, could not sleep.His evil spirit warned him to rise and go to the huts, where the two remaining prisoners were kept.It was then about one o'clock in the morning, and as he passed he saw the Onondaga runner at the door of one of the prison lodges.He was about to cry out, but the Onondaga turned and struck him such a violent blow with the butt of a pistol, snatched from under his deerskin tunic, that he fell senseless.When a Mohawk sentinel found and revived him an hour later, the door of the hut was open, and the oldest of the prisoners, the one called Ross, was gone.
Now, indeed, were the Iroquois certain that the Spirit of Evil was among them.When great chiefs like Timmendiquas and Thayendanegea were deceived, how could a common warrior hope to escape its wicked influence!
But Braxton Wyatt, with a sore and aching head, lay all day on a bed of skins, and his friend, Moses Blackstaffe, could give him no comfort.
The following night the camp was swept by a sudden and tremendous storm of thunder and lightning, wind and rain.Many of the lodges were thrown down, and when the storm finally whirled itself away, it was found that the last of the prisoners, he of the long arms and long legs, had gone on the edge of the blast.
Truly the Evil Spirit had been hovering over the Iroquois village.
