THE MYSTERIOUS HAND
Henry slept until a rosy light, filtering through the leaves, fell upon his face.Then he sprang up, folded the blanket once more upon his back, and looked about him.Nothing had come in the night to disturb him, no enemy was near, and the morning sun was bright and beautiful.The venison was exhausted, but he bathed his face in the brook and resumed his journey, traveling with a long, swift stride that carried him at great speed.
The boy was making for a definite point, one that he knew well, although nearly all the rest of this wilderness was strange to him.The country here was rougher than it usually is in the great valley to the west, and as he advanced it became yet more broken, range after range of steep, stony hills, with fertile but narrow little valleys between.He went on without hesitation for at least two hours, and then stopping under a great oak he uttered a long, whining cry, much like the howl of a wolf.
It was not a loud note, but it was singularly penetrating, carrying far through the forest.A sound like an echo came back, but Henry knew that instead of an echo it was a reply to his own signal.Then he advanced boldly and swiftly and came to the edge of a snug little valley set deep among rocks and trees like a bowl.He stopped behind the great trunk of a beech, and looked into the valley with a smile of approval.
Four human figures were seated around a fire of smoldering coals that gave forth no smoke.They appeared to be absorbed in some very pleasant task, and a faint odor that came to Henry's nostrils filled him with agreeable anticipations.He stepped forward boldly and called:
"Jim, save that piece for me!"
Long Jim Hart halted in mid-air the large slice of venison that he had toasted on a stick.Paul Cotter sprang joyfully to his feet, Silent Tom Ross merely looked up, but Shif'less Sol said:
"Thought Henry would be here in time for breakfast."Henry walked down in the valley, and the shiftless one regarded him keenly.
"I should judge, Henry Ware, that you've been hevin' a foot race," he drawled.
"And why do you think that?" asked Henry.
"I kin see where the briars hev been rakin' across your leggins.
Reckon that wouldn't happen, 'less you was in a pow'ful hurry.""You're right," said Henry."Now, Jim, you've been holding that venison in the air long enough.Give it to me, and after I've eaten it I'll tell you all that I've been doing, and all that's been done to me."Long Jim handed him the slice.Henry took a comfortable seat in the circle before the coals, and ate with all the appetite of a powerful human creature whose food had been more than scanty for at least two days.
"Take another piece," said Long Jim, observing him with approval.
"Take two pieces, take three, take the whole deer.I always like to see a hungry man eat.It gives him sech satisfaction that Igit a kind uv taste uv it myself."
Henry did not offer a word 'of explanation until his breakfast was over.Then lie leaned back, sighing twice with deep content, and said:
"Boys, I've got a lot to tell."
Shif'less Sol moved into an easier position on the leaves.
"I guess it has somethin' to do with them scratches on your leggins.""It has," continued Henry with emphasis," and I want to say to you boys that I've seen Timmendiquas, the great White Lightning of the Wyandots.""Timmendiquas!" exclaimed the others together.
"No less a man than he," resumed Henry." I've looked upon his very face, I've seen him in camp with warriors, and I've had the honor of being pursued by him and his men more hours than I can tell.That's why you see those briar scratches on my leggins, Sol.""Then we cannot doubt that he is here to stir the Six Nations to continued war," said Paul Cotter, "and he will succeed.He is a mighty chief, and his fire and eloquence will make them take up the hatchet.I'm glad that we've come.We delayed a league once between the Shawnees and the Miamis; I don't think we can stop this one, but we may get some people out of the way before the blow falls.""Who are these Six Nations, whose name sounds so pow'ful big up here?" asked Long Jim.
"Their name is as big as it sounds," replied Henry.They are the Onondagas, the Mohawks, Oneidas, Senecas, Cayugas, and Tuscaroras.They used to be the Five Nations, but the Tuscaroras came up from the south and fought against them so bravely that they were adopted into the league, as a new and friendly tribe.
The Onondagas, so I've heard, formed the league a long, long time ago, and their head chief is the grand sachem or high priest of them all, but the head chief of the Mohawks is the leading war chief.""I've heard," said Paul, "that the Wyandots are kinsmen of all these tribes, and on that account they will listen with all the more friendliness to Timmendiquas.""Seems to me," said Tom Ross, "that we've got a most tre-men-je-ous big job ahead.""Then," said Henry, "we must make a most tremendous big effort.""That's so," agreed all.
After that they spoke little.The last coals were covered up, and the remainder of the food was put in their pouches.Then they sat on the leaves, and every one meditated until such time as he might have something worth saying.Henry's thoughts traveled on a wide course, but they always came back to one point.They had heard much at Pittsburgh of a famous Mohawk chief called Thayendanegea, but most often known to the Americans as Brant.He was young, able, and filled with intense animosity against the white people, who encroached, every year, more and more upon the Indian hunting grounds.His was a soul full kin to that of Timmendiquas, ;and if the two met it meant a great council and a greater endeavor for the undoing of the white man.
What more likely than that they intended to meet?
"All of you have heard of Thayendanegea, the Mohawk?" said Henry.
They nodded.
