• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 List of Illustrations
 Omas, Alice, and Linna
 Danger in the air
 July Third, 1778
 The Eastern shore
 In the woods
 Pushing eastward
 Jabez Zitner
 Linna's woodcraft
 In a circle
 Near the end
 All in vain
 Conclusion
 Advertising
 Back Matter
 Back Cover
 Spine






Group Title: The daughter of the chieftain : : the story of an Indian girl
Title: The daughter of the chieftain
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00087271/00001
 Material Information
Title: The daughter of the chieftain the story of an Indian girl
Physical Description: 160, 16 p., 6 leaves of plates : ill. ; 19 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Ellis, Edward Sylvester, 1840-1916
Browne, Gordon, 1858-1932 ( Illustrator )
Cassell & Company
Belle Sauvage Works ( Printer )
Publisher: Cassell and Company
Place of Publication: London ;
Paris ;
New York ;
Melbourne
Manufacturer: La Belle Sauvage
Publication Date: 1898
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Friendship -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Courage -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Fathers and daughters -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Indians of North America -- Wars -- Juvenile fiction -- 1775-1783   ( lcsh )
History -- Juvenile fiction -- United States -- Revolution, 1775-1783   ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1898   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1898
Genre: Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
France -- Paris
United States -- New York -- New York
Australia -- Melbourne
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by Edward S. Ellis ; with illustrations by Gordon Browne.
General Note: Publisher's catalogue follows text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00087271
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002398579
notis - AMA3499
oclc - 261339893

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Frontispiece
        Page 3
    Title Page
        Page 4
    Table of Contents
        Page 5
        Page 6
    List of Illustrations
        Page 7
        Page 8
    Omas, Alice, and Linna
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 18a
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
    Danger in the air
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
    July Third, 1778
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
    The Eastern shore
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
    In the woods
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
    Pushing eastward
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 76a
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
    Jabez Zitner
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 90a
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
    Linna's woodcraft
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
    In a circle
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
    Near the end
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 132a
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
    All in vain
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 148a
    Conclusion
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
    Advertising
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
    Back Matter
        Page 177
        Page 178
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text




r
' ~~s
". '


-.


S''

A ,
.I.'


''-.-r


The Baldwin Library


RUnmurs."


".c


; .-





;&;'














-iU


I I


:.. r 7:i
*; l ;r. ..


...r












Pr & //?/














W- -
^.'c.
^Ll


TO THE RESCLUE ( p. 50).


-~i~t~4~









THE DAUGHTER

OF

THE CHIEFTAIN


THE STORY OF AN INDIAN GIRL




BY

EDWARD S. ELLIS
Author of" Wolf-Bar the Indian "
etc. etc.


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY GORDON BROWNE






CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED
LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK & MELBOURNE
1898
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED




















CONTENTS


CHAPTER I.


OMAs, ALICE, AND LINNA.


C
DANGER IN THE AIR


C
JULY THIRD, 1778 .


C
THE EASTERN SHORE



IN THE WOODS


C
PUSHING EASTWARD .


C:
JABEZ ZITNER


CI
LINNA'S WOODCRAFT


CHAPTER



CHAPTER



CHAPTER



CHAPTER



CHAPTER



CHAPTER



IAPTER


II.



II1.



IV.



V.



YI.



VI.




VIII.


PAGE
S 9



S22



35



. 48



. 61



74



. 87



. 100










vi



IN A CIRCLE




NEAR THE END



ALL IN VAIN



CONCLUSION


CONTEXTS.

CHAPTER IX.




CHAPTER X.



CHAPTER XI.




CHAPTER XII.


PAGE
. 113



. 125




. 137



S149

























LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


To THE RESCUE


"UP WENT THE SINGLE STONE'


IN THE WOODS .


"WHO ARE YOU?"


" BRUIN WAS IN A GRAC10US MOOD"


" BEN RIPLEY SPRANG UP AS IP SHOT


PAGE

Erontispieco


19


76





132


148













THE


DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.


CHAPTER I.
OMAS, ALICE, AND LINNA.
I DON'T suppose there is any use in trying to find out
when the game of "Jack Stones" was first played.
No one can tell It certainly is a good many hundred
years old.
All boys and girls know how to play it. There is
the little rubber ball, which you toss in the air, catch
up one of the odd iron prongs, without touching
another, and while the ball is aloft; then you do the
same with another, and again with another, until
none is left. After that you seize a couple at a
time, until all have been used; then three, and four,
and so on, with other variations, to the end of the
game.
Doubtless your fathers and mothers, if they watch
you during the progress of the play, will think it easy








10 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

and simple. If they do, persuade them to try it.
You will soon laugh at their failure.
Now, when we older folks were young like you,
we did not have the regular, scraggly bits of iron and
dainty rubber ball. We played with pieces of stones.
I suspect more deftness was needed in handling them
than in using the new-fashioned pieces. Certainly, in
more trials than I can remember, I never played the
game through without a break; but then I was never
half so handy as you are at such things: that, no
doubt, accounts for it.
Well, a good many years ago, before any of your
fathers or mothers were born, a little girl named
Alice Ripley sat near her home playing "Jack
Stones." It was the first of July, 1778, and although
her house was made of logs, had no carpets or
stove, but a big fireplace, where all the food was
made ready for eating, yet no sweeter or happier
girl can be found to-day, if you spend weeks in
searching for her. Nor can you come upon a more
lovely spot in which to build a home, for it was
the famed Wyoming Valley, in Western Penn-
sylvania.
Now, since some of my young friends may not








OMAS, ALICE, AND LINNA.


be acquainted with this place, you will allow me
to tell you that the Wyoming Valley lies between
the Blue Ridge and the Alleghany Mountains,
and that the beautiful Susquehanna River runs
through it.
The valley runs north-east and south-west, and
is twenty-one miles long, with an average breadth
of three miles. The bottom lands-that is, those in
the lowest portion-are sometimes overflowed when
there is an unusual quantity of water in the river.
In some places the plains are level, and in others,
rolling. The soil is very fertile.
Two mountain ranges hem in the valley. The
one on the east has an average height of a thousand
feet, and the other about two hundred feet less.
The eastern range is steep, mostly barren, and
abounds with caverns, clefts, ravines, and forests.
The western is not nearly so wild, and is mostly
cultivated.
The meaning of the Indian word for Wyoming
is "Large Plains," which, like most of the Indian
names, fits very well indeed.
The first white man who visited Wyoming was
a good Moravian missionary, Count Zinzendorf-in








12 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

1742. He toiled among the Delaware Indians who
lived there, and those of his faith who followed him
were the means of the conversion of a great many
red men. The fierce warriors became humble
Christians, who set the best example to wild brethren,
and often to the wicked white men.
More than twenty years before the Revolution
settlers began making their way into the Wyoming
Valley. You would think their only trouble would
be with the Indians, who always look with anger
upon intruders of that kind, but really their chief
difficulty was with white people.
Most of these pioneers came from Connecticut.
The successors of William Penn, who had bought
Pennsylvania from his king, and then again from
the Indians, did not fancy having settlers from other
colonies take possession of one of the garden spots
of his grant.
I cannot tell you about the quarrels between the
settlers from Connecticut and those that were already
living in Pennsylvania. Forty of the invaders, as
they may be called, put up a fort, which was named
on that account Forty Fort. This was in the winter
of 1769, and two hundred more pioneers followed








OMAS, ALICE, AND LINNA.


them in the spring. The fort stood on the western
bank of the river.
The Pennsylvanians, however, had prepared for
them, and the trouble began. During the few years
following the New Englanders were three times
driven out of the valley, and the men, women, and
children were obliged to tramp for two hundred
miles through the unbroken wilderness to their old
homes. But they rallied and came back again, and
at last were strong enough to hold their ground.
About this time the mutterings of the American
Revolution began to be heard, and the Pennsyl-
vanians and New Englanders forgot their enmity
and became brothers in their struggle for indepen-
dence.
Among the pioneers from Connecticut who put
up their old-fashioned log-houses in Wyoming were
George Ripley and his wife Ruth. They were young,
frugal, industrious, and worthy people. They had
but one child-a boy named Benjamin; but after
awhile Alice was added to the family, and at the
date of which I am telling you she was six years
and her brother thirteen years old.
Mr. Ripley was absent with the continental army








14 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

under General Washington, fighting the battles of
his country. Benjamin, on this spring day, was
visiting some of his friends further down the
valley; so that when Alice came forth to play
"Jack Stones" alone, no one was in sight, though
her next neighbour lived hardly two hundred yards
away.
I wish you could have seen her as she looked
on that summer afternoon. She had been helping,
so far as she was able, her mother in the house,
until the parent told her to go outdoors and amuse
herself. She was chubby, plump, healthy, with round
pink cheeks, yellow hair tied in a coil at the back
of her head, and her big eyes were as blue, and
clear, and bright as they could be.
She wore a brown homespun dress-that is to
say, the materials had been woven by the deft fingers
of her mother, with the aid of the old spinning-
wheel, which in those days formed a part of every
household. The dark stockings were knitted by the
same busy fingers, with the help of the flashing
needles; and the shoes, put together by Peleg Quintin,
the humpbacked shoemaker, were heavy and coarse,
and did not fit any too well








OMAS, ALICE, AND LINNA.


The few simple articles of underwear were all
home-made, clean, and comfortable, and the same
could be said of the clothing of the brother and of
the mother herself.
Alice came running out of the open front door,
bounding off the big flat stone which served as a
step with a single leap, and, running to a spot of
green grass a few yards away, where there was not
a bit of dirt or a speck of dust, she sat down and
began the game of which I told you at the opening
of this story.
Alice was left-handed. So when she took
position, she leaned over to the right, supporting
her body with that arm, while with the other hand
she tossed the little jagged pieces of stone aloft,
snatching up the others, and letting the one that
was going up and down in the air drop into her
chubby palm.
She had been playing perhaps ten minutes, when
she found someone was watching her.
She did not see him at first, but heard a low,
deep "Huh!" partly at one side and partly behind
her.
Instead of glancing around, she finished the








16 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

turn of the game on which she was engaged just
then. That done, she clasped all the Jack Stones
in her hand, assumed the upright posture, and
looked behind her.
"I thought it was you, Omas," she said with a
merry laugh; "do you want to play Jack Stones
with me?"
If you could have seen the person whom she
thus addressed, you would have thought it a
strange way of speaking.
He was an Indian warrior, belonging to the
tribe of Delawares. Those who knew about him
said he was one of the fiercest red men that ever
went on the war-path. A few years before, there
had been a massacre of the settlers, and Omas was
foremost among the Indians who swung the toma-
hawk and fired his rifle at the white people.
He was tall, sinewy, active, and powerful. Three
stained eagle feathers were fastened on his crown in
the long black hair, and his hunting-shirt, leggings,
and moccasins were bright with different coloured
beads and fringes. In the red sash which passed
around his waist were thrust a hunting-knife and
tomahawk, while one hand clasped a cumbersome








OMIAS, ALICE, AND LINNA.


rifle, which, like all firearms of those times, was used
with ramrod and flint-lock.
Omas would have had a rather pleasing face had
he let it alone; but his people love bright colours,
and he was never seen without a lot of paint daubed
over it. This was made up of black, white, and
yellow circles, lines, and streaks that made him look
frightful.
But Alice was not scared at all. She and Omas
were old friends. Nearly a year before, he stopped
at their cabin one stormy night and asked for some-
thing to eat. Mrs. Ripley gave him plenty of coarse
brown, well-baked bread and cold meat, and allowed
him to sleep on the floor until morning.
Benjamin was rather shy of the fierce-looking
Delaware, but little Alice took to him at first. She
brought him a basin of water, and asked him to
please wash his face.
The startled mother gently reproved her; but
Omas did that which an Indian rarely does-smiled.
He spoke English unusually well, and knew
why the child had proposed to him to use the
water.
He told her that he had a little girl that he








18 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

called Linna, about the same age as Alice. Upon
hearing this, what did Alice do, but climb upon the
warrior's knee and ask him to tell her all about
Linna. Well, the result was, that an affection was
formed between this wild warrior and the gentle
little girl
Omas promised to bring his child to see Alice,
who, with her mother's permission, said she would
return the visit. There can be no doubt that the
Delaware often went a long way out of his course,
for no other reason than to spend an hour or less
with Alice Ripley. The brother and mother always
made him feel welcome, and to the good parent
the influence of her child upon the savage red man
had a peculiar interest which nothing else in the
world could possess for her.
So you understand why it was that Alice did
not start and show any fear when she looked
around and saw the warrior standing less than
ten feet off, and attentively watching her.
"You can't play Jack Stones as well as I," she
said, looking saucily up at him.
"I beat you," was his reply, as he strode forward
and sat down cross-legged on the grass.

























































U1P WIVET 1111' SING.ILE STONE" (). 19!).








OMAS, ALICE, AND LINNA.


"I'd like to see you do it! You think you're
very smart, don't you?"
A shadowy smile played around the stern
mouth, and the Delaware, who had studied the
simple game long enough to understand it, began
the sport under the observant eyes of his little
mistress.
While both were intent on the amusement,
Mrs. Ripley came to the door and stood won-
deringly looking at them.
"It does seem as if Indians are human beings
like the rest of us," was her thought; "but who
could resist her gentle ways ?"
Up went the single stone in the air, and Omas
grabbed the batch that were lying on the ground,
and then caught the first as it came down.
"That won't do!" called Alice, seizing the
brawny hand, which-sad to say-had been stained
with blood as innocent as hers; "you didn't do
that fair !"
"What de matter ?" he asked, looking reproach-
fully into the round face almost against his own.
"I'll show you how. Now, I lay those three
on the ground like that. Then I toss up this,
B2







20 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

pick up one without touching any of the others,
keep it in my hand and pick up the next-see ?"
She illustrated her instruction by her work,
while her pupil listened and stared.
"I know-I know," he said quickly. "I show
you."
Then the wag of a Delaware tossed the first
stone fully twenty feet aloft, caught up the others,
and took that on the fly.
"I never saw anybody as dumb as you," was
the comment. "What is the use of your trying?
You couldn't learn to play Jack Stones in ever
so long."
She was about to try him again, when, child-
like, she darted off upon a widely different subject,
for it had just come into her little head.
"Omas, when you were here the other day, you
promised that the next time you came to see me
you would bring Linna."
"Dat so-Omas promise."
Then why haven't you done as you said ?"
"Omas never speak with double tongue; he
bring Linna with him."
You did ?-where is she?" asked Alice,







OMAS, ALICE, AND LINNA.


springing to her feet, clasping her hands, and
looking expectantly around.
The Delaware emitted a shrill, tremulous whistle,
and immediately from the wood, several rods behind
them, came running the oddest-looking little girl
anyone could have met in a long time.
Her face was as round as that of Alice, her
long, black hair hung loosely over her shoulders,
her small eyes were as black as jet, her nose a pug,
her teeth as white and regular as were ever seen,
while her dress was a rude imitation of her father's,
except the skirt came below her knees. Her feet
were as small as a doll's, and encased in the beaded
little moccasins, were as pretty as they could be.
"That is Linna," said the proud father as she
came obediently forward.















CHAPTER II.


DANGER IN THE AIR.
LITTLE Linna, daughter of Omas, the Delaware
warrior, was of the same age as Alice Ripley. The
weather was warm, and although she wore tiny
moccasins to protect her feet, she scorned the
superfluous stockings and under-garments that
formed a part of the other's apparel.
Her hair was as black, abundant, and almost
as long as her father's; but her face was clean,
and, perhaps in honour of the occasion, she, too,
sported a gaudy eagle feather in her hair.
She bounded out of the green wood like a fawn,
but as she drew near her parent and Alice, her
footsteps became slower, and she halted a few
paces away, hung her head, with her fore-finger
between her pretty white teeth-for all the world
like any white girl of her years.
But Alice did not allow her to remain em-
barrassed. She had been begging for this visit,








DANGER IN THE AIR.


and now, when she saw her friend, she ran forward
took her little plump hand and said-
Linna, I am real glad you have come!"
Omas had risen to his feet, and watched the
girls with an affection and interest which found
no expression on his painted face. His child
looked timidly up at him and walked slowly forward,
her hand clasped in that of Alice. She did not
speak, but when her escort sat down on the grass,
she did the same.
"Linna, do you know how to play Jack
Stones ?" asked Alice, picking up the pebbles.
Linna shook her head quickly several times,
but her lips remained mute.
"Your father thought he knew how, but he
don't; he doesn't play fair, either. Let me show
you, so you can beat him when you go home."
Alice set to work, while the bright black eyes
watched every movement.
Now do you want to try it ?" she asked,
after going through the game several times.
Linna nodded her head with the same bird-like
quickness, and reached out her chubby hand.
Her father and Alice watched her closely. She








24 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

made several failures at first, all of which were
patiently explained by her tutor; by-and-by she
went through the performance from beginning to
end without a break.
Alice clapped her hands with delight, and Omas
-certain that no grown-up person saw him-
smiled with pleasure.
"Doesn't she know how to talk ?" asked Alice,
looking up at the warrior.
Omas spoke somewhat sharply to his child in
the Delaware tongue. She started, and looking at
Alice, asked-
Do-yoo think me play well ?"
Alice was delighted to find she could make herself
understood so easily. It was wonderful how she had
learned to speak English so early in life.
"I guess you can," was the ready reply of Alice;
"your father can't begin to play as well. When you
go home you can show your mamma how to play
Jack Stones. Have you any brothers and sisters?"
"No; me have no brother-no sister."
That's too bad I've got a big brother Ben. He
isn't home now, but he will be here to supper. He's
a nice boy, and you will like him. Let's go in the








DANGER IN THE AIR.


house now to see mamma, and you can teach me
how to talk Indian."
Both girls bounded to their feet, and hand in
hand, walked to the door, with Omas gravely stalking
after them.
Mrs. Ripley had learned of the visitor, and stood
on the threshold to welcome her. She took her by
the hand and led her inside. Omas paused, as if in
doubt whether he should follow; but her invitation
to him was so cordial, that he stepped within and
seated himself on a chair.
That afternoon and night could never be forgotten
by Alice Ripley. In a very little while she and her
visitor were on the best of terms, laughing, romping,
and chasing each other in and out of doors, just as
if they were twin sisters that had never been
separated from each other.
When Mrs. Ripley asked Omas for how long
a time he could leave his little child with them,
he said he must take her back that evening. His
wigwam was a good many miles away in the woods,
and he would have to travel all night to reach
the village of his tribe.
Mrs. Ripley, however, pleaded so hard, that he








26 TH1E DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

consented to let his child stay until he came back
the next day or soon thereafter for her.
When he rose to go, the long summer day was
drawing to a close. He spoke to Linna in their
native tongue. She was sitting on the floor just
then, 1.1:, ii.- with a wonderful rag baby, but was
up in a flash, and followed him outside.
Wait a moment and she will come back," saia
Mrs. Ripley to her own child. She knew what the
movement meant: Omas did not wish anyone to
see him and Linna,
On the outside he moved a little to the left,
and glanced around to make sure that no person
was looking that way. Then he :;1..1 the little
one from the ground: she threw her arms around
his neck, and he pressed her to his breast and
kissed her several tineis with great warmth. Then
he set her ., .un. and she ran ...::._ into the
house, .!.i.. he strode ..- to -".:. 1-
l~ut at the moment of en~ring -.:. he h :. :-.'
: W, Niheeled .. an -.- :
toward the cabi2 n
UI: he return o Linna, M1rs~ 7. :1...
to the front Lloc r o look for hr s6im. He wasi








DANGER IN TIHE AIR.


not in sight, but Omas had stopped again hardly a
rod distant. He stood a moment, 1.-1 ii-' fixedly
at her, and then beckoned with his free hand for
her to approach.
Without hesitation she stepped off the broad
flat stone and went to him.
What is it, Omas ?" she asked in an under-
tone, pausing in front of him, and _. n,' up into
the grim, painted countenance.
The Delaware returned the look for a few seconds,
as if studying how to say what was in his mind.
Then in a voice lower even than hers, he said-
"You-little -,:r1-I.i-. boy-go way soon--must
not stay here."
Why do you say that, Omas?"
"Iroquois like leaves on :r-.:----.'i- .: men, call
Tories-soon come dovm 1-.: --': -"1 all white i .. -
kill you-kill little girl, big .- --:" 7-: stay here."
The pioneer's -..- had heard th re same rumors
for days past. She knew there was eaue -" ,.
for :.: T all, the i'-. I i men in ... : were
absent with the patriot army, .': fr in-


The inhabitants in the -...'--.-, had .-.
7,'








28 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

Congress to send some soldiers to protect them, and
the relatives of the women and children had asked
again and again that they might go home to save
their loved ones from the Tories and Indians; but
the prayer was refused. The soldiers in the army
were too few to be spared, and no one away
from Wyoming believed the danger as great as it
was.
But the people themselves knew the peril, and did
their best to prepare for it.
But who should know more about the Indians
and Tories than Omas, the great Delaware warrior ?
When, therefore, he said these words to Mrs.
Ripley, that woman's heart beat faster. She heard
the laughter and prattle of the children in the
house, and she thought of that bright boy, playing
with his young friends not far away.
"Where can we go?" she asked, in the same
guarded voice.
"With Omas," was the prompt reply; "hide in
wigwam of Omas. Nobody hurt pale-face friend of
Omas."
It was a trying situation. The brave woman,
who had passed through many dangers with her








DANGER IN THE AIR.


husband, knew what a visit from the Tories and
Indians meant; but she shrank from leaving
Wyoming, and all her friends and neighbours.
"When will they come?" she asked; "will it
be in a few weeks or in a few days ?"
"Getting ready now; Brandt with Iroquois-
Butler with Tory-soon be here."
"But do you mean that we shall all go with
you to-night ?"
The Delaware was silent for a few seconds. His
active brain was busy, reviewing the situation.
"No," he finally said; "stay here till Omas
come back; then go with him-all go-den no one
be hurt."
"Very well; we will wait till you come to us
again. We will take good care of Linna."
And without another word the Delaware turned
once more, strode to the forest, which was then in
fullest leaf, and vanished among the trees.
Mrs. Ripley walked slowly back to the door.
On the threshold she halted, and looked around
again for her absent boy. It was growing dark, and
she began to feel a vague alarm for him.
A whistle fell on her ear. It was the sweetest







30 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

music she had ever heard, for it came from the
lips of her boy.
He was in sight, coming along the well-worn
path that led in front of the other dwellings and
to her own door. When he saw her, he waved his
hand in salutation, but could not afford to break
in on the vigorous melody which kept his lips
puckered.
She saw he was carrying something on his
shoulder. A second glance showed that it was one
of the heavy rifles used by the pioneers a hundred
years ago. The sight-taken with what Omas had
just said-filled her heart with forebodings.
She waited until the lad came up. He kissed
her affectionately, and then in the off-hand manner
of a big boy, let the butt of the gun drop on the
ground, leaned the top away from him, and glancing
from it to his mother, asked-
"What do you think of it?"
It seems to be a good gun. Whose is it ?"
Mine," was the proud response. Colonel
Butler ordered that it be given to me, and I'm
to use it, too, mother."
"For what purpose?"








DANGER IN THE AIR.


The other Colonel Butler-you know he is a
cousin to ours-has got a whole lot of Tories" (who,
you know, were Americans fighting against their
countrymen) "and Indians, and they're coming
down to wipe out Wyoming; but I guess they will
find it a harder job than they think."
And to show his contempt for the danger, the
muscular lad lifted the weighty weapon to a level,
and pretended to sight it at a tree on the edge of
the wood.
I wish that was a Tory or one of those Six
Nation Indians-wouldn't I drop him!"
The mother could not share the buoyancy of her
son. She stepped outside, so as to be beyond the
hearing of the little ones.
Omas has been here; that is his little girl that
you hear laughing with Alice. He has told me the
same as you-the Tories and Indians are coming,
and he wants us to flee with him."
"What does he mean by that ?" asked the half-
indignant boy.
"He says they will put us all to death, and if
we do not go with him, we will be killed too."
The handsome face of Benjamin Ripley took on








32 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

an expression of scorn, and as he straightened up,
he seemed to become several inches taller.
He forgets that I am with you! Omas is very
kind; but he and his Tory friends had better look
out for themselves. Why, with the men at the fort,
Colonel Butler will have several hundred."
"But they are mostly old men and boys."
"Well," said the high-spirited lad, with a twinkle
of his fine hazel eyes, "add up a lot of old men
and boys, and the average is the same number of
middle-aged men, isn't it? Don't you worry, mother
-things are all right. If Omas comes back, give
him our thanks, and tell him we are not going to
sneak off when we are needed at home."
It was hard to resist the contagion of Ben's
hopefulness. The mother not only loved but re-
spected him as much as she could have done had
he been several years older. He had been her main-
stay for the two years past, during which the father
was absent with the patriot army; and she came
to lean upon him more and more, though her
heart sank when Ben began to talk of following his
father into the ranks, to help in the struggle for
independence.







DANGER IN TIE AIR.


She found herself looking upon the situation as
Ben did. If so great danger threatened Wyoming,
it would be cowardly for them to leave their friends
to their fate. It was clear all could not find safety
by going, and she would feel she was doing wrong if
she gave no heed to the others.
Ben was tall and strong for his years, and the fact
that he had taken the gun from Colonel Butler to be
used in taking care of the settlement bound the
youth in honour to do so.
"It shall be as you say," said the mother; "I
cannot be as hopeful as you, but it is our duty to stay.
We will not talk about it before the children."
"I want to see how a little Indian girl looks,"
muttered Ben with a laugh, following his mother
into the house.
Alice caught sight of him, and was in his arms
the next instant, while Linna rose to her feet and
stood with her forefinger between her teeth, shyly
studying the new comer.
"Helloa, Linna! how are you?" he called, setting
down his young sister and catching up the little
Indian. Not only that, but he gave her a resounding
smack on her dusky cheek.







34 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CIIIEFTAIN.

"I always like pretty little girls, and I'm going
to be your beau: what do you say? Is it a
bargain ?"
It is not to be supposed that the Delaware
miss caught the whole meaning of this momentous
question. She was a little overwhelmed by the rush
of the big boy's manner, and nodded her head about
a dozen times.
"There, Alice; do you understand that?" he
asked, making the room ring with his merry
laughter; "I'm to be Linna's beau. How do you
like it ?"
"I'm glad for you, but I-guess-I oughter bo
sorry for Linna."















CHAPTER III.


JULY THIRD, 1778.
WHILE Ben Ripley was frolicking with little Alice
and her Indian friend Linna, the mother prepared
the evening meal. The candles were lighted, and
they took their places at the table.
All this was new and strange to Linna. In her
own home, she was accustomed to sit on the ground,
and use only her fingers for knife and fork when
taking food; but she was observant and quick, and
knowing how it had been with her, her friends soon
did away with her embarrassment. The mother
cut her meat into small pieces, spread butter-which
the visitor looked at askance-on the brown bread.
and she had but to do as the rest, and all went well.
A few minutes after supper both girls became
drowsy, and Mrs. Ripley, candle in hand, conducted
them upstairs to the small room set apart for their
use.
This was another novel experience for the visitor.
c2







36 THE DAUGHTER OF THE OHIEF'TAIN.

She insisted at first upon lying on the hard floor,
for never in her life had she touched a bed; but
after awhile, she became willing to share the couch
with her playmate.
Alice knelt down by the side of the little trundle
bed and said her prayers, as she always did; but
Linna could not understand what it meant. She
wonderingly watched her until she was through, and
then with some misgiving, clambered among the
clothes, and the mother tucked her up, though the
night was so warm they needed little covering.
Mrs. Ripley felt that she ought to tell the dusky
child about her heavenly Father, and to teach her
to pray. She therefore sat down on the edge of
the bed, and in simple words began the wonderful
story of the Saviour, who gave His life to save her
as well as all others.
Alice dropped asleep right away, but Linna lay
motionless, with her round black eyes fixed on the
face of the lady, drinking in every word she said.
By-and-by, however, the eyelids began to droop, and
the good woman ceased. Who shall tell what
precious seed was thus sown in that cabin in
Wyoming, more than a hundred years ago ?








JULY THIRD, 1778.


While Mrs. Ripley was talking upstairs, she heard
voices below; so that she knew Ben had a visitor.
As she descended, she recognized a neighbour who
lived on the other side of the river.
"I called," said he, "to tell you that you must
lose no time in moving into Forty Fort with your
little girl."
"You do not mean right away ?"
"Not to-night, but the first thing in the morn-
ing."
"Is the danger so close as that ?"
Our scouts report the Tory Colonel Butler with
a large force of whites and Indians marching down
the valley."
"But do you not expect to repel them ?"
"We are sure of that," was the confident reply;
'but it won't do for any of the women and children
to be exposed. The Indians will scatter, and cut off
all they can. Others of our friends are out warn-
ing the people, and we must have them all in a
safe place."
"Will you wait for our enemies to attack the
fort ?"
I believe our Colonel Butler favours that; but







38 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

others, and among them myself and Ben, favour
marching out and meeting them."
"That's it," added the lad, shaking his head.
"I believe in showing them we are not seared.
Colonel Butler got leave of absence to come to
Wyoming; he has some regulars with him, and
with all our men and boys, we'll teach the other
Colonel Butler a lesson he won't forget as long as
he lives."
"Well, if you think it best, we will move into
the fort with the other people until the danger is
past."
"Yes, mother; I will fight better knowing that
you and Alice are safe. There's Linna! What
about her ?"
"Who's Linna?" asked the visitor.
"She is the little child of Omas, the Delaware
warrior. He brought her here this afternoon to
make Alice a visit, and promised to call to-morrow
for her. Will it be safe to wait until he comes ?"
The neighbour shook his head.
"You mustn't take any chances. Why don't
you turn her loose to take care of herself? She
can do it."








JULY THIID, 1778.


I couldn't," the mother hastened to say; "Omas
left her in our care, and I must not neglect her.
She will go with us."
"I don't think it will be safe for her father to
come after her, when the flurry is over."
Why not ?"
He will be with the Iroquois, even though his
tribe doesn't like them any too well; for the Iroquois
are the conquerors of the Delawares, and drove
them off their hunting-grounds."
"Well," said Mrs. Ripley, with a sigh; "even if
he never comes for her, she will always have a home
with us."
The dwelling of the Ripleys was on the eastern
shore of the Susquehanna. On the other side stood
Fort Wintermoot and Forty Fort, the former being
at the upper end of the valley. That would be
the first one reached by the invaders, and the expec-
tation was that it would give up whenever ordered
to do so, for nearly all in it were friends of the
Tories.
It was evident that when Omas left his child
with her friends, and spoke of returning the next
day, or soon thereafter, he did not know how








40 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

near the invasion was. Mrs. Ripley expected that
when he did learn it, he would hasten back for
her.
The night, however, passed without his appear-
ance, and the hot July sun came up over the forests
on the eastern bank of the river, and still he re-
mained away. It looked as if he had decided to
let her take her chances while he joined the invaders
in their work of destruction and woe.
Mrs. Ripley would have been willing to wait
longer, but she was urged not to lose another hour.
The frightened settlers were not allowed to take
anything but their actual necessaries with them,
for the cramped quarters in Forty Fort, where a
number of cabins were erected, would be crowded
to the utmost to make room for the hundreds who
might clamour for admission. The quarters, indeed,
were so scant that many camped outside, holding
themselves ready to rush within, should it become
necessary.
Little Linna was filled with wonder when she
saw her friends preparing to move and knew she
was going with them. But she helped in her way
as much as she could and asked no questions.








JULY THIRD, 1778.


There was no need, in fact, for Alice asked enough
for both.
And just here I must relate to you a little history.
On the last days of June, 1778, Colonel John
Butler, with about four hundred soldiers-partly
made up of Tories-and six or seven hundred
Indians, entered the head of Wyoming Valley. As
I have said, he was a cousin of Colonel Zebulon
Butler, who commanded the patriots and did all he
could to check the invaders.
Reaching Fort Wintermoot, the British officer
sent in a demand for its surrender. The submission
was made, and the invaders then came down the
valley and ordered the Connecticut people to sur-
render Forty Fort and the settlements.
Colonel Zebulon Butler had under him, to quote
the historical account, "two hundred and thirty
enrolled men, and seventy old people, boys, civil
magistrates, and other volunteers." They formed six
companies, which were mustered at Forty Fort, where
the families of the settlers on the east side of the
river had taken refuge.
Colonel Zebulon Butler, upon receiving the
summons, called a council of war. This was on the







42 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

3rd of July. The officers believed that a little delay
would be best, in the hope of the arrival of reinforce-
ments; but nearly all the men were so clamorous to
march out and give the invaders battle, that it was
decided to do so.
"You are going into great danger," remarked the
leader, as he mounted his horse and placed himself at
the head of the patriots, but I will go as far as any
of you."
At three o'clock in the afternoon the column,
numbering about three hundred, marched from the
fort with drums beating and colours flying. They
moved up the valley, with the river on the right and
a marsh on the left, until they arrived at Fort
Wintermoot, which had been set on fire by the
enemy to give the impression they were withdrawing
from the neighbourhood.
As you may well believe, the movements of the
patriots were watched with deep interest by those
left behind. The women and children clustered
along the river bank and strained their eyes in the
direction of Fort Wintermoot, the black smoke from
which rolled down the valley and helped to shut out
their view.








JULY THIRD, 1778.


There was hardly one among the spectators that
had not a loved relative with the defenders. It
might be a tottering grandfather, a sturdy son, who,
though a boy, was inspired with the deepest fervour,
and eager to risk his life for the sake of his mother or
sister, whose hearts almost stopped beating in the
painful suspense which must continue until the
battle was decided.
Alice was too young fully to understand the
peril in which Ben was placed. She had kissed him
good-bye when he ran to take his place with the
others, and, with a light jest on his lips about her
and Linna, he had snatched a kiss from the little
Delaware's swarthy cheek.
The mother added a few cheering words to the
children, and it was a striking sight when they and a
number of others, about their age or under, began
playing with all' the merriment of children who never
dream that the world contains such afflictions as
sorrow, woe, and death.
It was easy to follow the course of the patriots for
a time after they were beyond sight, by the sound of
their drums and the shrill whistling of several fifes.
In those days it was much more common than








411 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

now for people to drink intoxicating liquors. Just
before the patriots started up the valley, I am sorry
to say, a few of the men drank more than they
should. It has been claimed by some that but for
this things would have gone differently on that day,
which will live for ever as one of the saddest in
American history.
By-and-by the anxious people near the fort
noticed that the sound of drums and fifes had ceased,
and the reports of firearms were heard. They knew
from this that the opposing forces were making ready
for the conflict, and the suspense became painful
indeed.
Then amid the rattle of musketry sounded the
whoops of the Iroquois. The battle was on. Fighting
began about four o'clock in the afternoon. Colonel
Zebulon Butler ordered his men to fire, and at each
discharge to advance a step. The fire was regular
and steady, and the Americans continued to gain
ground, having the advantage where it was open.
Despite the exertions of the invaders, their line gave
way, and but for the help of the Indians they would
have been routed.
The flanking party of red men kept up a galling








JULY THIRD, 1778.


fire on the right, and the patriots dropped fast. The
Indians on the Tory left were divided into six bands
who kept up a continuous yelling which did much
to inspirit each other, while the deadly aim told
sadly upon the Americans.
The most powerful body of Indians was in a
swamp on the left of the patriots, and by-and-by
they outflanked them. The Americans tried to
manoeuvre so as to face the new danger, but some
of them mistook the order for one to retreat. Every-
thing was thrown into confusion. Colonel Zebulon
Butler, seeing how things were going, galloped
up and down between the opposing lines, calling
out-
"Don't leave me, my children. Stand by me and
the victory is ours!"
But it was too late. The patriots could not be
rallied. They were far outnumbered, and once
thrown into a panic, with the captain of every com-
pany slain, the day was lost.
You cannot picture the distress of the women,
children, and feeble old men waiting at Forty Fort
the issue of the battle.
The sorrowful groups on the bank of the river








46 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

listened to the sounds of conflict, and read the
meaning as they came to their ears.
The steady, regular firing raised their hopes at
first. They knew their sons and friends were fighting
well, despite the shouts of the Indians borne down
the valley on the sultry afternoon.
By-and-by the firing grew more scattering, and
instead of being so far up the river as at first, it
was coming closer.
This could mean but one thing: the patriots were
retreating before the Tories and Indians.
One old man, nearly four-score years of age, who
pleaded to go into the battle, but was too feeble,
could not restrain his feelings. He walked back and
forth, inspired with new strength and full of hope,
until the scattered firing and its approach left no
doubt of its meaning.
He paused in his nervous, hobbling pace, and
said to the white-faced women standing breath-
lessly near-
"Our boys are retreating: they have been beaten
-all hope is gone !"
The next moment two horsemen galloped into
sight.








JULY THIRD, 1778. 47

"Colonel Butler and Colonel Denison!" said the
old man, recognizing them; "they bring sad news."
It was true. They rode their horses on a dead
run, and reining up at the fort, where the people
crowded around them, they leaped to the ground,
and Colonel Butler said-
"Our boys have been driven from the field, and
the Tories and Indians are at their heels!"















CHAPTER IV.


THE EASTERN SHORE.
YOUNG Ben Ripley made a good record on that
eventful 3rd of July. He loaded and fired as steadily
as a veteran. The smoke of the guns, the wild
whooping of the Iroquois Indians, the sight of his
friends and neighbours continually dropping to the
ground, some of them at his elbow, the deafening
discharge of the rifles-all these and the dreadful
swirl and rush of events dazed him at times; but
he kept at it with a steadiness which caused more
than one expression of praise from the officers
nearest him.
All at once he found himself mixed up in the
confusion caused by the attempt to wheel.a part of
the line to face the flanking assailants, and the
mistake of many that it was an order to retreat.
He did not know what it meant, for it seemed
to him that a dozen officers were shouting conflicting-
orders at the same moment. A number of men







TIHE EASTERAT SHORE.


threw down their guns and made a wild rush to get
away, several falling over each other in the frantic
scramble; others bumped together, and above the
din of the conflict sounded the voice of Colonel
Butler, as he rode back and forth through the smoke,
begging his troops not to leave him, and victory
would be theirs.
Seeing the hopeless tangle, the Indians swarmed
out of the swamp, and by their savage attack and
renewed shouts made the hubbub and confusion
tenfold worse.
Somebody ran so violently against Ben that he
was thrown to the ground. He was on his feet in
an instant and turned to see who did it. It was a
soldier fleeing for life from an Iroquois warrior.
Ben raised his gun, took quick aim and pulled
the trigger, but no report followed. He had forgotten
his weapon was unloaded.
Other forms obtruded between him and the
couple, and he could not see the result of the pur-
suit and attack. Despite all he could do, he was
forced back by the panic-stricken rush around and
against him.
Suddenly a wild cry reached him. An Iroquois
D








50 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

with painted face rushed upon him with uplifted
tomahawk, but he was yet several paces away, when
another warrior seized his arm and wrenched him
to one side.
"Run-go fast-don't stay!" commanded the
Indian that had saved the youth, furiously motioning
to him.
"If my gun were loaded," replied Ben, though
his voice was unheard in the din, I wouldn't go
till I did something more. Helloa! is that you,
Omas ?"
It was the Delaware that had turned the assault
aside.
A couple of bounds placed him beside the lad,
and he caught his arm with a grip of iron.
It was of no use trying to hold back. Omas
half-running, half-leaping, drove his way like a wedge
through the surging swarm. His left hand closed
around the upper arm of Ben, while his right
grasped his tomahawk, he having thrown aside his
rifle.
The boy was repeatedly jerked almost off his feet.
He could run fast, but was not equal to this warrior,
who forged along with resistless might. Twice did








THE EASTERN SHORE.


an Iroquois make for the young prisoner, as he sup-
posed the lad to be, but a warning motion of the
tomahawk upheld by Omas repelled him.
The Delaware was prudent, and instead of keeping
in the midst of the surging mass, worked to one side,
so that they were soon comparatively free from the
tumultuous throng.
There was no attempt at conversation between
the Delaware and Ben. The boy knew what was
meant by this rough kindness. The day was lost,
and his thoughts went out to the loved ones waiting
down the valley to learn the result of the battle.
He wanted to get to them as quickly as he could.
The rush carried them beyond the main body of
fugitives, though not out of danger, for the Iroquois
were pursuing hard; but soon Omas loosened his
grip and dropped the arm of the lad. They were
far enough removed from the swirl to exchange
words.
",Where moder-where Alice?" asked the Dela-
ware, as if he had no concern for his own child.
"At Forty Fort."
Linna with them ?
"Yes; they are together with the other folks."
D 2







52 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

"Go dere-tell cross riber-make haste to Del'm-
ware."
This command meant that the little party should
hurry to the eastern side of the Susquehanna, and
start for the settlements on the Upper Delaware.
The nearest town was Stroudsburg, sixty miles dis-
tant, and the way led through a dismal forest.
The words of Omas showed, too, that he knew
what was coming. Though the British Colonel
Butler might accept the surrender and strive to
give fair treatment to the prisoners, he would find
it hard to restrain the Tories and Indians.
All that could be done was for the fugitives to
flee, without an hour's delay. They were already
flocking to the river in the effort to reach the other
side. A good many hid among the grass and
undergrowth on Monacacy Island, where the Tories
and Indians followed, and hunted them out with-
out mercy.
Those who were wise enough to set out in time
had a chance of arriving at the settlements on the
Upper Delaware, though much suffering was sure
to follow, since there was no time to prepare food
to take with them.








THE EASTERN SHORE.


The remark of Omas prompted Ben's words-
"How can I get mother, and Alice and Linna,
to the other side ? They cannot swim the river."
"Linna swim," was the somewhat proud answer;
"she take care of Alice-you take care of moder."
"I might at any other time, but with the people
crowding around us, and the Indians at our heels
and shooting down all they can, what chance have
we? Why can't you come with me and help
them ?"
No doubt the Delaware had asked himself the
question, for he answered it not by words, but by
breaking into a loping trot for Forty Fort, with
Ben running at his side.
He halted before reaching the refuge, and turned
aside among the bushes overhanging the edge of
the river, his actions showing he was searching for
something.
He speedily found a canoe, probably his own.
It had been so skilfully hidden among the dense
undergrowth that one might have passed within a
couple of paces without seeing it.
He picked it up as if it were a toy boat and
set it down in the water.








54 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

"Go bring moder-bring Alice-bring Linna."
Ben was off like a shot, for he knew there was
not a minute to throw away. It was the season
when the days were longest, and two or three hours
must pass before it would be fully night.
It would not do for Omas to go with Ben. His
appearance at the fort would add to the panic, and
be almost certain to bring about a conflict with
some of the whites. It was his province to guard
the precious canoe from being taken by other
fugitives.
Ben Ripley now thought only of his loved ones.
He knew the anguish his mother would suffer until
she learned he was safe, and he forced his way to
the spot where he had parted from her.
It was a sad experience. Old men, women and
children with white faces, were rushing to and fro,
wringing their hands and wailing, searching for
those whom they never again would see in this
life; crowding into the little fort, as if they knew
a minute's delay would be fatal; some making for
the river, into which they plunged in a wild effort
to reach the eastern shore, while among the frantic
masses appeared here and there a fugitive from the








THE EASTERN SHOE


scene of battle, perhaps wounded and telling his
dreadful story of the defeat, with all the woeful
consequences that were certain to follow.
With much difficulty and some rough work the
lad reached the spot where he had bidden his mother
and the children good-bye, but none of the three was
in sight. They had been swept aside by the rush
of the terrified people.
"They must be somewhere near- "
A cry sounded above the tumult, and before he
could learn where it came from, the arms of his
mother were about his neck.
"Thank Heaven! my boy is safe! You do not
know what I have suffered. I could learn nothing
about you. Are you hurt ?"
"Not a scratch-which is more than many other
poor fellows can say. Where are the children ?"
A tiny hand was slipped into his own, and looking
down, there stood Linna, with her forefinger between
her teeth, looking shyly up at him. There could be
no doubt she felt fully acquainted.
Alice came forward on the other side. Neither
understood the cause of the turmoil about them.
They were not scared, but were awed into silence.








56 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTATN.

"I saw Omas," explained Ben to his mother;
"he saved me from the fate of many others."
"Where is he?"
"A little way off, under the bank, waiting with
his canoe to take us across the river."
What's that for ?"
"He says we must hurry through the woods
for the settlements on the Upper Delaware. Every
hour that we stay increases our danger."
"Let me take Alice; lead the way."
Clasping tight the hand of Linna, with his
mother at his heels, Ben pushed for the point
where he had left the Delaware a few minutes
before.
Strange that though the distance was not far,
and the confusion seemed to be increasing every
minute, the little party had not gone half way
when they were checked by one of the men that
had been in the battle. He was slightly wounded,
and under the influence of liquor.
"Who's that you've got with you ?" he de-
manded, looking down at Linna, who saw no danger
in the act.
A friend of Alice and me."








THE EASTERN SHORE.


"She looks like an Injin," added the soldier,
scowling threateningly at her; "if she is, I want
her."
"I told you she is a friend of ours-get out of
my way !"
The soldier's condition enabled Ben to tumble
him over on his back by means of a vigorous
shove. Before he could steady himself and get
upon his feet again, the others were beyond
reach.
I am sure he would not have acted that way,
had he been in the possession of his senses.
When Ben parted from Omas, he was without
a rifle, but on joining him again, the warrior
had a fine weapon in his hand. It was not
the one with which he appeared at the house.
The lad might have guessed how he got it, but
he did not ask any questions, nor seem to notice
it.
As the party came up, Omas merely glanced
at Mrs. Ripley and her child, but did not speak
As for his own little girl, he gave her no notice.
Young as she was, she understood him, and did
not claim any attention from him. If they had







58 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTA TV.

been alone, she would have been in his arms with
their cheeks together.
"Go 'cross," said he, pointing toward the other
shore.
"Ben has told me what you said: we are ready"
replied Mrs. Ripley.
He held the canoe steady and motioned her to
take her place in it. She did so, and Alice nestled
at her feet, being careful not to stir, for such frail
craft are easily upset.
The canoe was small, and the weight of the
mother and child sank it quite low, though it
would hold another adult.
"Get in," added Omas to the lad.
Ben obeyed. He knew all about such boats,
and could have paddled it across had there been
a paddle to use, but there was none.
When the Delaware laid his rifle inside with
Ben's, it was evident he intended to swim, towing
or shoving the boat.
Come, Linna, there's just room for you," added
the youth, reaching out his hand for the dusky
girl.
Instead of obeying, she looked up at her father








THE EASTERN SHORE.


and said something, to which he made answer
brusquely, as it sounded to the others.
Retreating several paces from shore, she ran
nimbly to the edge of the bank, and with a leap
splashed away beyond the bow of the canoe,
and began swimming like a fish for the eastern
shore.
It was a great treat for her, even though she
did not remove any of her clothing. The weather
was sultry, and the bath refreshingly cool. Not
comprehending the sad scenes around her, she
dived and splashed, and frolicked, easily keeping
in advance of the boat.
Truth to tell, the canoe had all it could hold,
and Omas, who swam at the stern, handled it with
care to prevent it overturning. The water rose
almost to the gunwales, and a little jolt or care-
lessness would have capsized it.
The Delaware swam high out of water. He knew
the boat would attract the attention of some of his
own people on the bank, who, if they thought the
occupants were escaping, would either pursue or
fire on them.
The sight of the Indian, however, at the stern








60 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

would make it appear that they were already
prisoners, and the other warriors would give their
attention elsewhere.
Omas kept clear of Monacacy Island, and by-
and-by his feet touched ground. Before that, the
dripping Linna had run out on land, and so the
whole party safely reached the eastern shore.













CHAPTER V.


IN THE WOODS.
You have not forgotten what I told you about the
mountain range, which shuts in Wyoming Valley
on the east. It is a thousand feet in height,
abounding with ravines, clefts, rocks, boulders and
the most rugged kind of places.
The fugitives who fled from the Susquehanna
to escape the Indians had to make their way over
these mountains, and then find their way through
sixty miles of trackless woods to the Delaware
River. A great many succeeded in doing so, but
the deaths and sufferings in the vast stretch of
forest gave it the dreadful name of "The Shades
of Death," by which it is often referred to even to
this day.
Omas swam at the rear of the small canoe, as I
told you, with Mrs. Ripley and her two children
seated inside and balancing themselves with great
care to prevent the heavily loaded craft from sinking
or overturning.







62 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

More than one Seneca or Oneida Indian, or
perhaps a Tory, that had chased some terrified
fugitives to the edge of the river, halted and made
ready to fire upon the canoe, whose occupants were
seen to be three white persons.
When they looked again, however, they observed
the head and shoulders of an Indian warrior, who
was plainly propelling the craft in front of him.
That was enough to satisfy them.
On the way over, Linna, the little Indian girl,
amused herself by diving under the canoe, sometimes
appearing on one side and then on the other, some-
times in front and then at the rear. She even
ventured to impose upon her father by splashing
water in his painted face. She did little of that, and
he paid no attention to it.
The sun had not yet set when the grim warrior
and his child emerged on the eastern shore, their
garments dripping, but caring nothing for that. The
boat was drawn far enough up the bank to prevent
its being swept away by the current, and then all
stood side by side, and as if by a common impulse,
looked back at the shore they had left.
The smoke from the burning Fort Wintermoot








IN THE WOODS.


still rested on the calm surface of the river, and
filtered among the green vegetation near the scene of
the battle. Other buildings had been fired, and
mingled their vapour with it.
Here and there, every minute or two, sounded
the sharp crack of a rifle. This too often meant that
some fugitive had been run down by his cruel
pursuer, who listened to no pleadings for mercy. A
good many had taken refuge on Monacacy Island,
from which the reports of guns continually came.
I have not the space here to tell you of the
wonderful escapes at Wyoming, the particulars of
which I have given in another work. One boy, who
was with several men near Fort Jenkins before the
battle, saw all the men shot down or captured; but
he hid himself among some willows and was not
noticed.
If you ever visit the scene of the battle, you will
notice a broad, flat stone, called Queen Esther's Rock,
a half-dozen miles below Wilkesbarre. Queen Esther
was an old, cruel, half-breed woman who came with
the Indians. She is sometimes known as Katharine
Montour. A son of hers was killed in the conflict,
and she was so angered that she had sixteen captives








64 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

placed around the rock, and meant to slay them all,
while the warriors prevented them from escaping.
Nevertheless two of the young men jumped up
and started on a run for the river. The guards
dashed after them. One caught his toe, and rolled
headlong down the bank into some bushes. Instead
of springing up again, as he first started to do, he lay
still, and though the Indians almost stepped upon
him, he was not discovered, and got off without
harm.
The other reached the river, took a running leap
and dived, and swam under water as far as he could.
When he came up to breathe, the waiting red men
fired at him again and again. He was wounded, but
not badly, and, reaching the other side, caught a stray
horse, made a bridle from a hickory withe, and soon
joined his friend.
Another fugitive, after running until he was so
tired out he could hardly stand, and hearing the
Indians near, backed into a hollow log and awaited
his fate. He had been in the hollow but a few
minutes when a spider spun its web across the
entrance. A few minutes later, two warriors sat
down on the log. They noticed how good a hiding-








IN THE WOODS.


place it would be for the white man, and one of them
leaned over to peep in. As he did so, he saw the
spider-web. He was sure that it would not be there
if the man was inside, and did not search further.
When the warriors left, the man crawled out and
got safely away.
You know that the home of the Ripleys was on
the eastern shore, which they left that same morning.
They had crossed over in a large flat-boat with a
number of other families, so that now they were near
their own home again. Omas had guided the canoe,
too, so they landed not far from the little structure.
"Omas," said the mother, "I understand you
wish us to go to the Delaware."
"Yes," he replied, "Iroquois won't hurt you there
-must go."
We haven't a particle of food with us; Ben has
his gun and may have a chance to shoot some game
on the way-more than likely, he will have no chance
at all; it will take us several days to reach Strouds-
burg, which, I believe, is the nearest point. Don't
you think it best that we should stop at the house
and get what food we can?"
"Yes, we do dat; come 'long; not great time.








66 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

There could be no safer guide than the Delaware,
when his race were such complete masters of the
situation; though there was risk that a patriot hiding
somewhere in the neighbourhood might take a shot
at him, under the belief that he meant harm to the
captives.
The humble log structure was found just as it
was left that morning. If any of the marauding
bands of Indians paid it a visit, they did not linger
after seeing it was tenantless.
There was a whole loaf of bread and part of
another left, beside some cooked chicken, and a number
of live ones were scratching the ground outside, as
if they had no concern in what was going on.
"The weather is warm now," remarked the
prudent housewife, "but a cold storm may set in
before we reach shelter."
With which she folded a blanket, from her bed
and laid it over her arm.
It will come handy to sleep on," added Ben, who
did the same with a second, despite the weight of his
rifle, which (as they were made in those days) was a
good load of itself for a strong boy.
Omas showed some impatience, though his com-








IN THE WOODS.


panions did not understand the cause. His actions,
indeed, were curious. They supposed he meant to
conduct them all or a greater part of the way to
Stroudsburg, though at times he appeared to be
hesitating over it, or over some other scheme he
had in mind.
Ben Ripley had rambled among the rugged
scenery on the eastern shore of the river, having
gone with his father many times when he was on
hunting excursions; but he was not as familiar with
the ins-and-outs of the mountains as the Delaware,
whose village was a good many miles away.
None of the party had eaten anything of account
since the early morning meal, before they crossed
the Susquehanna. The dangers, excitement, and
suspense of the hours drove away the thought of
food. Young as was Linna, she had already learned
not to ask for it when either of her parents chose
not to offer it to her. Doubtless she was hungry,
but if so, no one else knew it. Alice had been
given bread when at Forty Fort, and she now
suggested that some more would not come
amiss.
"We all need it," said Ben; "why not take our
E2








68 TH1E DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

last meal in our old home ? You have no objection,
Omas ? "
Eat here," was his reply.
The guns were leaned against the walls, the
blankets put aside and all gathered round the board.
The Delaware had done the same before when
visiting the family, and acquired the civilised form
of eating, while Linna picked it up during the brief
time spent with her friends.
The meal lasted but a few minutes, when they
once more gathered up their luggage, as it may be
called, left the house, and with Omas in the lead,
struck into the mountains on the long tramp to
the Delaware.
The sun went down while they were picking
their way through the rough section. The Ripleys
expected to do much hard travelling, but their
guide's knowledge of every turn enabled him to
pick out paths which none ever suspected. Some-
times the climbing was abrupt, but all, even to
Alice, were accustomed to that kind of work, and
they kept up a steady gait, which must have placed
many miles to the rear if continued long.
Omas continued at the head. Directly behind








IN THE WOODS.


him walked his child, the path most of the time
being so narrow that they were obliged to travel
in Indian file. Then came Alice and her mother,
while Ben considered himself the rear-guard. When
the space allowed, Alice took the hand of her parent,
but Linna never presumed to speak to or interfere
with her grim, silent parent.
Darkness closed around them before they had
gone a couple of miles. During all this time the
tramp continued in silence, probably less than a
dozen words being spoken in all. Each of the
three elder was using eyes and ears to the ut-
most.
The sharp crack of a rifle broke the silence, not
more than a hundred yards to the right of them.
Everyone started except Omas, who acted as if he
did not hear the report. He made no change in
his pace, and so far as the others could see in the
gloom, did not turn his head. They concluded,
therefore, that no cause for alarm existed.
Fairly through the mountain spur and among
the deep woods, the journey was pushed until the
night was well along. Suddenly, Omas made a
short turn to the right and stopping in a hol-








70 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

low, where there were several large boulders, he
said-
"We stay here all night."
The words were a surprise, for it was expected
he would travel for a long time. He, Mrs. Ripley,
and Linna could have done so without incon-
venience, but Alice was tired out. Her relatives
were pretty well burdened already, though either
would have carried her had it been necessary; but
the party had gained so good a start that there
seemed little risk in making a long stop.
Omas reached down one hand and laid it on the
bare head of Alice, saying in a voice of strange
gentleness-
"Little girl tired-she can rest."
And then all knew he had ceased walking be-
cause of her. Had she not been a member of the
party, he would have kept the rest on their feet
until the sun appeared above the forest.
"Yes, I'm tired, Omas," said the little one
wearily, holding the hand of the Delaware in both
her own; I'm glad you stopped."
The gloom was so deep, for there was no moon
until very late (and if there had been, its rays







AV TIHE WOODS.


could not have pierced the dense foliage), that they
could hardly see each other's figures. Omas hastily
gathered some leaves and dead twigs, which were
heaped together against one of the boulders. Then
he produced his flint and steel-for he had learned
the trick long before of the whites-and by-and-by
a shower of sparks was flying from the swift, sharp
blows of the metal against the hard stone. A
minute later one of the sparks "caught," and under
his nursing a fire was speedily under way.
While he was thus engaged, Mrs. Ripley spread
the blankets on the ground and Alice stretched her
tired little body upon one of them.
MAamma, I guess God will excuse me for not
saying my prayers," she murmured, as she closed
her eyes and sank into slumber.
Linna was tired, too, but she kept her feet and
looked at her father for his permission, before pre-
suming to lie down.
"Come, Linna, here is your place beside Alice,"
said the mother kindly.
Again she turned to her father, who was stand-
ing by the fire, looking off in the gloom as if he
suspected something wrong.







72 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

He gave the permission in their native tongue
and she cuddled down beside her friend without
further waiting.
"Mother," said Ben, "you had better lie down
with them."
"Not yet," she replied, with a significant look
at the Delaware, whose back was toward them.
What about him ?" asked the surprised lad in
a low voice.
"He is meditating something evil: he wants to
leave us."
"What evil is there in that, if he thinks we
have gone far enough to be safe ?"
You have forgotten that he fought with the
Iroquois to-day; he wants to go back to Wyoming
and join them in their work."
If that is so, how can we hinder him?"
"I don't know that we can; but I shall try it.'
Ben busied himself gathering more wood, so that
the fire cast a glow several yards from where it
burned against the boulder.
When he had collected enough to last a long
while, he came back and sat down by his mother.
All this time the Delaware remained motionless,








IN THE WOODS. 73

with his face away from them. He was debating
some troublous question in his mind. They watched
him closely.
He turned about abruptly, and said-
"Omas must go-he say 'good-night' to his
friends."














CHAPTER VI.
PUSHING EASTWARD.
No person in all the world is so quick to detect
deception as a mother. It is simply wonderful the
way she will sometimes read one's inmost thoughts.
I am sure you boys who have lagged on the road
when sent on an errand, had a scrimmage with some
other boy, or done any one of the numerous acts
in which a mother persists in asking annoying
questions, will agree with me.
While Omas, the Delaware warrior, stood with
his face turned away from the camp fire and look-
ing off in the gloom, as if he was trying to discover
something in the darkness, Mrs. Ripley was sure
she knew what the trouble was: he was trying to
decide whether he should stay longer with the little
party or leave them to make the rest of their way
through the woods without him.
He might well say they were now so far from
Wyoming that they were in little danger. They








PUSHING EASTWARD.


had but to keep on tramping for several days and
nights, and they would reach the little town of
Stroudsburg, which, you may know, is near Dela-
ware Water Gap. There they need have no fear
of the red men.
Mrs. Ripley knew all this as well as Omas him-
self, but she did not wish him to go back and
join the hostile Iroquois, as he wanted to do. She
felt it would be far better if he would stay with
them, for then he would do no further harm to
the white people.
When, therefore, he turned about and bade them
good-bye, all doubt was gone. Ben did not reply,
but his mother rose from the other blanket on
which she had been sitting, walked quietly to where
the Delaware was standing, and laid her hand
kindly on his arm.
"Omas, I do not wish you to leave us," she
said.
He looked at her, for both stood where the
firelight fell upon their faces, and replied-
"No danger-walk towards the rising sun-
need not walk fast-Iroquois won't hurt-soon be
safe."







76 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIiV.

The lady was too wise to let her real objection
appear.
"A while ago we heard the noise of a gun;
our people are fleeing through the woods, and the
red men are following them. Alice is tired, and
we have stopped to rest. When we start again to-
morrow, some of the red men will be ahead of us.
What shall we do without our friend Omas?"
"He have gun," he replied, indicating Ben.
"So have the red men, and there are more
of them."
Now, if Mrs. Ripley was skilful in reading the
thoughts of the Delaware, it may be that he, too,
suspected the real cause for her objections. Be
that as it may, it was plain he was not satisfied.
He held the Ripley family in too high regard to
offend them openly; but Omas was set in his
ways.
He made no reply to the last remrk, but
stepped a little nearer the fire and sat down, moody
and silent.
"You have said enough, mother," remarked
Ben in a low voice; "it will anger him to say
more. I will sit with my head against the rock;



















L




lN THE wooDs (OO 7S).








PUSHING EASTWARD.


do you lie down on the blanket and let your head
rest in my lap. I think it will be safe for us
all."
With some hesitation the mother complied, the
Delaware apparently paying no heed to them. He
kept his seat on the ground, looking gloomily into
the fire and in deep thought. A struggle was
going on in his mind, and no one could say
whether the good or evil would win.
Ben Ripley was anxious that his mother should
sleep. She had undergone the severest of trials
since early morning, and none had wrought harder
than she. The morrow would make further de-
mands on her strength. As for himself, he was
young, sturdy, and could stand more and rally
sooner than she.
When, therefore, she said something in a low
tone, he placed his hand softly over her mouth
and whispered-
"Sh-- go to sleep, baby."
He smoothed the silky hair away from the fore-
head so gently and so soothingly that she could
not resist the effect. She meant to keep awake
until Omas made his final decision; but no person








78 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

can resist the approach of slumber, except by active
movement.
Before long, and while Ben's hand was still
gliding like down over the forehead, the faint,
regular breathing showed she was asleep
The son smiled.
"Good! The best mother that ever lived!
Heavenly Father, watch over her and spare her for
many years. Watch over us all."
He looked across at Omas, on the other side of
the camp fire, and saw the Delaware gazing fixedly
at him.
He arose as silently as a shadow and stepped
nearer, peering down on the pale, handsome face
with its closed eyes.
"She 'sleep ?" asked the Indian.
"Yes," replied Ben, softly, with a nod of his head.
He looked at her a moment and then across to
the other blanket, where the round, chubby cheeks
of the little girls reflected the firelight. He waited
a moment, and then the gentler side of his nature
triumphed. He bent over the forms, kissed each
in turn, straightened up, and pointing to the cast-
ward, said to Ben-








PUSH'ING EASTIrABD.


"Go dat way-you safe-good-bye.
"Good-bye," replied the lad, knowing it was
useless to protest.
Like the gliding of the -shadow of a cloud, the
Delaware passed beyond the circle of light thrown
out by the fire into the deep gloom of the wood.
The moccasins pressed the dry leaves without giving
back any sound, and lie vanished.
"That makes a change of situation," was the
conclusion of Ben Ripley; "he's gone, and I become
the general of this army; there's no telling what
danger may be abroad to-night, so I will keep my
eyes open till sunrise, to make sure that no harm
comes to these folks."
And ten minutes after this decision the lad was
as sound asleep as his mother and the two little
ones.
But there was One who did not slumber while
all were unconscious. He ever watches over His
children, and, though there were many perils abroad
that night, none of them came near our friends.
The camp fire which had been burning so brightly
grew dimmer and lower until the figures could
hardly be seen. They gradually became more in-








80 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

distinct, and finally the gloom was as deep as any-
where in the dense woods. Only a few smouldering
embers were left, and they gave out no glow.
Ben was still sleeping, when something tickled
his nose. He rubbed it vigorously with his fore-
finger and opened his eyes, confused and bewildered.
An odd, chuckling laugh at his elbow drew his
gaze thither. There stood Linna, with the sprig of
oak which she had been passing back and forth
under the base of his nose, making it feel for all
the world like a fly titillating his nostrils.
Ben made an attempt to catch the mischievous
girl, but she deftly eluded him, and laughed so
heartily that the others awoke and looked wonder-
ingly to learn what it all meant.
"I'll pay you for that!" exclaimed the lad, as
his mother raised her head from his lap. Bounding
to his feet, he darted after Linna; but she was so
nimble, and dodged back and forth and from right
to left so fast, that it took much effort to run her
down.
Like all little girls, she was very "ticklish," and
when he dallied with his fingers about her plump
neck, she dropped to the ground and kicked and








PUSHING EASTWARD.


rolled over to get away from him. He let her up,
and said with pretended gravity that he never allowed
any trifling with him without punishing the person
therefore.
Linna did not seem to notice the absence of her
father, and asked no questions. Ben told his mother
how he went off after she fell asleep, and the good
woman was saddened, for she was sure she under-
stood it all.
The first thing done, after a few minutes' talk,
was to kneel in prayer, Mrs. Ripley leading in a
petition to Heaven that all might be preserved from
harm and reach the distant settlement safely. She
did not forget the absent Omas, or the hundreds
of hapless people whom they had left behind, who
were still in great danger.
It was Mrs. Ripley's custom always to offer prayer
in the little household at the beginning of each day
Linna, who had gained a dim idea of what the
touching act meant, bent on her knees beside Alice;
and who shall say the petition which went up from
her heart was not heard and remembered by Him
who notices the fall of every sparrow?
And now came the serious business of the day.








82 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

Many long miles of trackless forest lay before them
and the delay caused all to feel the need of hurry
Mrs. Ripley gave to each a moderate portion ol
the food brought with them, carefully preserving
what was left, for they were sure to need that and
much more before reaching the end of their journey.
The day promised to be sultry like the preceding
one, and each sadly missed the water with which to
quench their thirst and splash upon their faces and
hands.
We shall come across some before long," said
Ben hopefully when he and his mother had divided
the luggage between them and set out toward the
rising sun; "we are a great deal better off than the
poor folks at Wyoming."
The mother pinched the clothing of Linna, and
found it dried of the moisture gained by her swim
in the Susquehanna.
It is a curious practice among not only the
Indians, but with many white people, not to change
wet stockings or garments for dry ones. I knew
a fisherman's boy whose father once punished him
for removing his saturated stockings and shoes for
others.







PUSHING EASTWARD.


"Always let 'em dry on you, and you won't catch
cold," was his doctrine. "Keep moving if you can,
but don't change 'em."
I don't believe in the practice; but be that as it
may, the little Delaware girl showed no ill-effects
from sleeping in the clothing that had been wet. As
for her father, he would have been insulted at the
mention of such a thing to him.
Ben's belief about finding water proved true.
They had gone hardly a half-mile from camp when
they came upon a sparkling brook, cold and clear,
and abundant enough to serve all. Having no vessels
with them, they lay down and quaffed their fill
Then they bathed their faces and hands in the
delicious fluid, and were much refreshed.
The expectation was that they would travel a
good many miles before night again overtook them.
The way, while rough and broken in many places,
was not hard, and all, even to the smaller children,
were used to being on their feet. There was little
fear indeed that Linna would not do her part as
well as the older ones. Young as she was in years,
she had been trained to hardship from the time she
could walk. Not only that, but, like all her race, she
S2








84 THE DAUGHTER OF THE OHIEFTAIN.

had learned to bear suffering in silence and without
sign of pain.
She would have to become very tired before her
companions would know it.
By-and-by the ground was found to be rising, and
in the course of an hour they gained an elevation
which, having few trees, gave them an extended view
of the surrounding country.
Looking back in the direction of Wyoming, the
sky was seen to be soiled by the heavy smoke not
only from the burned Fort Wintermoot, but from
other buildings that had been fired by the Tories
and Indians. The sight was a sorrowful one, and
caused the mother and son some uneasiness. They
seemed nearer to the scene of the conflict than they
had supposed, and-since the people had been con-
tinually swimming the river, and taking flight in the
woods for the same point that was the destination of
the Ripleys-it was quite certain that some of the
pursuers were not far off.
"We must make as little noise as we can," said
Ben, when the party were about to start forward
again: for there can be no telling how close we are
to Indians that are looking for us."








PUSHING EASTWARD.


"I think it better for you to walk a little way
in front,' suggested the mother, "so as to warn us
in time."
"The plan is a good one. I will keep in sight of
you, and the minute I see anything amiss, will
make a sign, so you can stop at once."
This course was adopted. Ben carried one of the
blankets flung over his left arm as if it were an
extra garment, and steadied the heavy rifle on his
shoulder with the other. As you remember, he
was tall for his years, strong, and with rugged
health.
Had the weather been cooler he could have kept
up this method of travelling for hours without
fatigue; but the heat made it trying. True, at
that season of the year the foliage was dense on
the trees and shut out the sun's rays, except in
the open spaces and natural clearings which they
now and then crossed but the vegetation also
stopped whatever breeze was stirring, and obliged
the members of the party to halt many times to
rest and cool themselves.
Mrs. Ripley had but few extra things to carry,
and showed less fatigue than anyone, excepting the









86 THE DAUGHTER OF THE OHIEFTAIN.

Delaware child. The latter and Alice walked most of
the time side by side, and generally with clasped
hands. There was no use of their trying to keep
their tongues still, but they were wise enough to
speak in whispers and such soft under-tones that no
one else could tell what they said, and therefore
nothing was to be feared on that account from any
enemies in the neighbourhood.
"Why not he make sign ?" was the startling
question of Linna, pointing at Ben, before the party
had gone far after their brief rest.
"What do you mean?" asked the puzzled Mrs.
Ripley; "he isn't to make any sign to us till he sees
or hears something wrong."
"People off dere!" replied Linna, pointing ahead
and to the right of their course. "Me hear dem
speak"
It was true. The keen ears of the child had
discovered a peril that no one else suspected. She
alone had caught the sound of voices that escaped
all other ears.















CHAPTER VII.


JABEZ ZITNER.
AT this moment Ben Ripley was about a hundred
feet in advance of the party and ascending a ridge
in the woods, which were so open that he was in
plain sight of the others.
Mrs. Ripley, on hearing the alarming words of the
little Delaware girl, came to a stop. It seemed
strange that Linna should have caught the sounds
noticed by no one else, and that, too, while she was
whispering to her companion, Alice; but even at
that tender age the inherited sharpness of hearing
had been trained to a wonderfully fine degree.
Mrs. Ripley was too prudent to argue with her.
It was not wise to take any chances. Above all, it
was important that Ben should know the truth,
for he was still walking away from them with no
knowledge of their discovery.
"S- t!"
The sibilant noise made by the mother's lips







88 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

crossed the space, and the listening lad halted and
looked round. She did not speak, but beckoned
him to come back He obeyed at once.
"Linna says she heard voices a minute ago,
over yonder," whispered Mrs. Ripley, as her son
joined them.
"So me did," added Linna, in answer to the
inquiring look of the lad.
"You have sharp ears, little one; but are you
sure ?"
"Me am," was the confident reply.
Where were they?"
She again pointed out the direction.
"That must be looked into: wait till I come
back, and- "
"S--h!" interrupted the mother.
All caught an indistinct murmur, which proved
Linna was right.
"Me tell you-eh?" she said in a proud under-
tone, her black eyes sparkling with triumph.
"You are right: wait till I learn whether they
are friends or enemies. I will not be gone long."
Leaving the anxious group clustered together,
Ben faced in the direction of the sounds, which had








JABEZ ZITNER.


stopped, and were so faint when heard that he
could not tell whether they belonged to friends
or foes.
As nearly as he could find out, the parties were
just beyond the crest of the ridge, and, but for the
warning of Linna, he would have run into the
danger before knowing it.
With the utmost care he went up the slope. He
leaned forward and stepped more slowly, avoiding,
so far as he could, making any noise on the leaves
or against the bushes and limbs which he had to
push aside to allow him to advance.
At the instant of reaching the highest point
he heard the voices again, so close that he knew
they were made by white people, who were in a
clump of dense undergrowth. A faint wreath of
smoke filtering through the branches overhead
showed they had started a small fire, beside which
they were probably sitting or reclining on the
ground.
Now that he was certain they belonged to his
own race, he had less fear. Still, they might prove
unpleasant neighbours when they came to know
one of the party was a daughter of Omas. Turning








90 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

toward his friends, who were watching him, Ben
made a sign for them to stay where they were
while he went forward.
He moved with the same care as before, but an
unexpected accident spoiled everything. His foot
caught in a wire-like vine, and he almost fell on his
hands and knees. Aware that he had betrayed
himself, he threw aside further caution, hurried
down the slope, and called out in a guarded under-
tone-
"Helloa there, friends!"
"Who are you?" was the demand that instantly
followed, and from the undergrowth, beside a small
fire, two men suddenly rose upright, each with rifle
in hand.
Ben recognized them. One was Jabez Zitner
and the other Horace Burwink-both middle-aged,
sturdy, and strong. They were neighbours, and had
taken part in the engagement the day before, but,
escaping without harm, were now on their way to
the settlements of the Upper Delaware.
A meeting of this kind would have been pleasing
in the highest degree, for it added great strength
to the party; but a misgiving came to the lad


























































" WHO ARE Yo ? '" (p. 90).








JABEZ ZITNER.


when he recognized Zitner. He was the man who,
when partially intoxicated the previous afternoon,
had tried to take Linna from him and was vigorously
shoved aside by her friend.
"Helloa, Ben! where did you come from?" asked
Zitner, who was now entirely himself.
"Glad to see you," added Burwink, and the two
extended their hands. "You gave us a great scare,
for the woods are full of redskins."
"You startled me, too," replied Ben. "I am
travelling with my mother and sister to Stroudsburg.
I suppose you are aiming for the same place ?"
"Yes-if we ever get there. What's become of
that little sarpent you had with you yesterday?"
It was Zitner who asked the question. Ben's
face flushed, for he did not like to hear Linna spoken
of in that way.
She is with us," he quietly replied.
"What are you going to do with her?"
"She is in our care, and goes wherever we
go."
"You seem mighty fond of the people who
played the mischief with us yesterday."
Jabez Zitner, I fought just as hard as you, and








92 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

did all I could to drive back the Iroquois and Tories,
but I don't fight little children six years old."
"Who's talking about fighting 'em ?" demanded
Zitner angrily. "Their people didn't spare our
women and children."
"They are savages, but you and I claim to be
civilised."
"That's all well enough, but my motto is-
fight fire with fire."
Burwink was listening to this sharp interchange
of words, the meaning of which he caught. Wishing
to make a friend of him, for Ben foresaw trouble,
he asked-
"Am I not right, Mr. Burwink?"
"I should say-on general principles you are;
but, after yesterday, I don't feel much love for any
of the varmints. Who is this Injin gal that you
are talking about?"
Ben was too wise to give the name of Linna's
father, knowing he would be instantly recognized
as one of the fiercest warriors that had taken part
in the invasion and battle. He therefore re-
plied-
"She is a girl named Linna; she is of the same








JABEZ ZITNER.


age as our Alice, and was visiting her when we
crossed the river to Forty Fort yesterday morning,
We could do nothing but take her with us, and
I will defend her with my life."
"You are talking big," remarked Zitner, with
a scornful look at the sturdy lad. "Who is the
gal's father?"
"That makes no difference; but I will say he
belongs to the Delaware tribe, most of whom are
friends to our people."
"There were plenty of them with the Senecas
and Oneidas yesterday, and they fought like wild
cats, too. But why don't you bring your folks
forward ?" added Zitner, looking inquiringly around.
"I will do so. Wait a few minutes."
He strode back and over the top of the ridge,
until he caught sight of the frightened group.
"Come on!" he called, beckoning to them.
"Mr. Zitner and Burwink are here, and want to
see you."
With an expression of thankfulness, Mrs. Ripley,
clasping a hand each of the children, walked up the
slope, and passed over to where the couple awaited
their approach by the camp fire. She shook hands







94 THE DAUGHTER OF THE CHIEFTAIN.

with each, and expressed her pleasure at meeting
them. They did the same toward her, and then all,
with the exception of the children, seated themselves
on the fallen tree beside which the small fire was
burning.
Mrs. Ripley had observed the little incident the
preceding afternoon, when Zitner tried to stop Linna.
She was ill at ease, for she noticed how sharply he
looked at the child. She hoped, however, that now
he was fully himself, he would be ashamed of his
action, or at least make no reference to it.
No fear of her doing so. She showed her tact
by leading the conversation in another direction.
"When did you leave Wyoming ?"
"Burwink and I didn't get a chance to swim
over until nearly midnight, and then we had a
rough time of it. There were plenty of others
that tried to do the same and never got to this
side."
"It is a sad day for our homes and our people."
"When did you leave?" asked Burwink of the
lady.
We crossed before it was dark.'
How did you manage it ? Swim ?"







JABEZ ZITNER.


"No; we came over in a canoe. A Delaware
Indian, the father of Linna, swam behind the boat
and pushed it across. But for him, we never
could have gotten away."
Mrs. Ripley, like her son, meant to keep the
name of their friend from these men. There was
no danger of either her or Ben telling it; but
neither thought of another means they had of
learning it.
At this point, Alice went to her mother and
leaned against her knees, with her gaze on the
faces of the men. She had been standing beside
Linna, whose eyes were never once removed from
the displeasing countenance of Zitner.
She must have noticed the incident referred to,
for the expression on her round face was of dislike
and distrust. She stood further off from the men
than anyone else-silent, watchful, and suspicious.
Zitner now looked at her.
"Come here," he said coaxingly, extending his
hand.
"No; me won't. Me don't like you," she re-
plied, with an angry flirt and backward step.
"Jingo!" exclaimed the surprised Zitner; "1




University of Florida Home Page
© 2004 - 2010 University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries.
All rights reserved.

Acceptable Use, Copyright, and Disclaimer Statement
Last updated October 10, 2010 - - mvs