"Keep away from him--keep away!" cried Walter, as the young nobleman approached. "They sometimes tear on terribly, even at the last gasp."
"Why, he is nearly as big as a tiger," said Lord H----.
"He is a splendid fellow," answered Walter, joyfully. "One might live a hundred years in England without finding such game."
Lord H---- smiled, and remained for a moment or two, till the young man's rifle was reloaded, gazing at the beast in silence.
Suddenly, however, they both heard the sound of another rifle on the left, and Walter exclaimed, "Woodchuck has got one, too!" But the report was followed by a yell very different from the snarl or growl of a wounded beast. "That's no panther's cry!" exclaimed Walter Prevost, his cheek turning somewhat pale. "What can have happened?"
"It sounded like a human voice," said Lord H----, listening, "like that of someone in sudden agony. I trust our friend the Woodchuck has not shot himself by some accident."
"It was not a white man's voice," said Walter, bending his ear in the direction from which had come the sounds. But all was still, and the young man raised his voice and shouted to his companion.
No answer was returned, however, and Lord H----, exclaiming, "We had better seek him at once--he may need help!" darted away toward the spot whence his ear told him the shot had come.
"A little more to the right, my lord, a little more to the right!" said Walter. "You will hit on a trail in a minute." And raising his voice again, he shouted: "Woodchuck! Woodchuck!" with evident alarm and distress.
He was right in the supposition that they should soon find some path. They quickly struck an Indian trail crossing that on which they had been previously proceeding, and leading in the direction in which they wished to go. Both then hurried on with greater rapidity, Walter rather running than walking, and Lord H---- following, with his rifle cocked in his hand. They had not far to go, however, for the trail soon opened upon a small piece of grassy savanna, lying close upon the river's edge, and in the midst of it they beheld a sight which was terrible enough in itself, but which afforded less apprehension and grief to the mind of Lord H---- than to that of Walter Prevost, who was better acquainted with the Indian habits and character.
About ten yards from the mouth of the path appeared the powerful form of Captain Brooks, with his folded arms leaning on the muzzle of his discharged rifle. He was as motionless as a statue, his brow contracted, his brown cheek very pale, and his eyes bent forward upon an object lying upon the grass before him. It was the form of a dead Indian, weltering in his blood. The dead man's head was bare of all covering except the scalp-lock. He was painted with the war colors, and in his hand, as he lay, he grasped the tomahawk, as if it had been raised in the act to strike the moment before he fell. To the eyes of Lord H---- his tribe or nation was an undiscovered secret, but certain small signs and marks in his garb, and even in his features, showed Walter Prevost at once that he was not only one of the Five Nations, but an Oneida. The full and terrible importance of the fact will be seen by what followed.
For some two minutes the three living men stood silent in the presence of the dead, and Walter exclaimed, in a tone of deep grief: "Alas! Woodchuck, what have you done?"
"Saved my scalp," answered Brooks, sternly, and fell into silence again.
There was another long silence, and then Lord H----, mistaking in some degree the causes of the man's strong emotion, laid his hand upon the hunter's arm, saying: "Come away, my friend. Why should you linger here?"
"It's no use," answered Woodchuck, gloomily. "He had a woman with him, and it will soon be known all through the tribe."
"But for your own safety," said Walter, "yon had better fly. It is very sad indeed--what could make him attack you?"
"An old grudge, Master Walter," answered Brooks, seating himself deliberately on the ground and laying his rifle across his knee. "I knew the critter well, the Striped Snake they called him, and a snake he was. He tried to cheat and to rob me, and I made it plain to the whole tribe. Some laughed, and thought it fair, but old Black Eagle scorned and rebuked him, and he has hated me ever since. He has been long watching for this, and now he has got it."
"Well, well," said Walter, "what's done cannot be undone, and you had better get away as fast as may be, for Black Eagle told me he had left three scouts behind to bring tidings in case of danger, and we cannot tell how near the others may be."
"This was one of them," answered Brooks, still keeping his seat and gazing at the Indian. "But what is safety to me, Walter? I can no more roam the forests. I can no more pursue my way of life. I must go into dull and smoky cities and plod amongst thieving, cheating crowds of white men. The rifle and the hatchet must be laid aside forever; the forest grass must know my foot no more. Flowers and green leaves and rushing streams and the broad lake and the mountain top are lost and gone, the watch under the deep boughs and by the silent waters. Close pressed amidst the toiling herd, I shall become sordid and low and filthy as they are; my free nature lost and gyves upon my spirit. All life's blessings are gone from me; why should I care for life?"
There was something uncommonly plaintive, mournful and earnest in his tones, and Lord H---- could not help feeling for him, although he did not comprehend fully the occasion of his grief. "But, my good friend," he said, "I cannot perceive how your having slain this Indian in your own defence can bring such a train of miseries upon you. You would not have killed him if he had not attacked you."
"Alas for me! alas for me!" was all the answer the poor man made.
"You do not know their habits, sir," said Walter, in a low voice. "They must have blood for blood. If he stays here, if he ever returns, go where he will in the Indian territory, they will track him, they will follow him day and night. He will be amongst them like one of the wild beasts whom we chase so eagerly--pursued from place to place with the hatchet always hanging over his head. There is no safety for him but far away in the provinces beyond those towns that Indians ever visit. So persuade him to come away and leave the body. He can go down with me to Albany, and thence make his way to New York or Philadelphia."
For some minutes Brooks remained deaf to all arguments. His whole mind and thoughts seemed occupied with the terrible conviction that the wild scenes and the free life which he enjoyed so intensely were lost forever.
Suddenly, however, when Lord H---- was just about to give up in despair the task of persuading him, he started up as if some new thought struck him, and gazing first at Walter and then at the young officer, he exclaimed: "But I am keeping you here, and you, too, may be murdered! The death spot is upon me, and it will spread to all around. I am ready to go. I will bear my fate as well as I can, but it is very, very hard. Come! Let us begone quick--stay! I will charge my rifle first. Who knows how soon we may need it for such bloody work again!"
All his energy seemed to have returned in a moment, and it deserted him not again. He charged his rifle with wonderful rapidity, tossed it under his arm, and took a step as if to go. Then for a moment he paused, and advancing close to the dead Indian gazed at him sternly. "Oh, my enemy," he cried, "thou saidst thou wouldst have revenge, and thou hast had it--far more bitter than if thy hatchet had entered into my skull, and I were lying in thy place."
Turning round as soon as he had spoken, he led the way back along the trail, murmuring rather to himself than to his companions: "The instinct of self-preservation is very strong. Better for me had I let him slay me. I know not how I was fool enough to fire. Come, Walter, we must get round the falls, where we shall find some batteaux that will carry us down."
He walked along for some five minutes in silence, and suddenly looked round to Lord H----, exclaiming: "But what's to become of him? How is he to find his way back again? Come! I will go back with him--it matters not if they do catch me and scalp me. I do not like to be dogged and tracked and followed and taken unawares. I can but die at last. I will go back with him as soon as you are in the boat, Walter."
"No, no, Woodchuck! That will not do!" replied the lad. "You forget that if they found you with him they would kill him, too. I will tell you how we will manage