Moccasin Tracks in the Sand—Cahoonshee at the Climbing Tree—Indian Craft and White Man’s Cunning. Cahoonshee at the Stake—Quick to the Rescue.

We left Amy and Drake at the house of the elder Quick, on the banks of the river at Milford. They now understood themselves and each other. By degrees Amy’s sadness wore away, and she became lively and cheerful. When an opportunity offered, she went with Drake on hunting and fishing excursions, and learned to use the rifle with the dexterity of an old hunter. Like most of her sex, she was fond of dress, and chose the most gaudy colors for her attire.

The trapping season had now arrived, and the parties went back to the Shinglekill.

Cahoonshee and Quick had not met for several months.

I fear, said Cahoonshee, that there will be trouble between our neighbors, the Delawares, and the Salamanques.

Why? asked Quick.

I saw on the banks of the Mongaup, to-day, the print of a moccasin that plainly told me what tribe they belonged to.

Sly dogs, those Salamanques. They wiped out the Cahoonshees, replied Quick.

And we must assist the Delawares to wipe them out now.

How?

Find out what they intend to do, and then act accordingly. I think their advance lie concealed in the bowl. (A hollow on the Pennsylvania side of the river opposite Mongaup.)

Follow me, and we will soon know.

The parties threw their guns over their shoulders, and started for the Hawk Nest.

Seating themselves on the pinnacle, Cahoonshee pointed up the river.

Does my brother see that tall pine standing on the edge of the rocks, with dead limbs in the top? A few feet from the top of that tree is the bowl. In that bowl lie concealed the destroyers of my race. Brother, do you see the smothered smoke that arises from their Council fires? I must hear their plans.

Yes, and lose your life in the adventure, said Quick.

Possibly yes—probably no. But they must be circumvented. Follow me.

They both started down the rocks, and reaching the river, stepped into a canoe, and paddled for the Climbing Tree. (See Appendix.)

It was now dark. Quick paddled the canoe through the still waters of Long Track, through Butler’s Falls, and entered Mongaup Eddy, and continued until they were opposite the Climbing Tree.

Not a word had been spoken. Cahoonshee stepped out of the canoe, and as he did so whispered in his companion’s ear:

Watch, and remain silent! and then disappeared in the impenetrable darkness.

Cahoonshee climbed the tree and came in full view of the Salamanques. They had gathered there in large numbers, and had with them their squaws and papooses. The fire at which the Chiefs sat was within a few feet of where Cahoonshee stood, and he could hear what they said as easily as if he had sat in their midst. It was mid-night when the Council broke up. Cahoonshee returned to the river.

Don’t use a paddle. Let the canoe float. These rocks have ears.

Not a word was spoken. Cahoonshee sat with his head in his hands, thinking of the past and meditating on the future.

Brother, said Cahoonshee, a plot is laid to destroy the Delawares. If the Salamanques succeed, there will not be one left to tell the tale. But it must not be. The white man’s reason and the red man’s cunning must thwart their plans.

And have you a plan?

I have one that will wipe the Salamanques from the face of the earth.

Can I assist you brother?

Yes. Day after to-morrow the blow is to be struck. The Delawares must be notified and prepared, not only to defend themselves, but to annihilate their foes. To-night I will visit the Delawares. To-morrow, you and the boys go to the round, white rock on Mount William. Carry with you all the strings that you can make from bear, deer and eel skins. Prepare a large quantity of pine knots, and I will meet you there at sun-down to-morrow.

Cahoonshee stepped into his canoe and noiselessly drifted down the river, and just as the silver streak of morning began to appear, he landed at the village of the Delawares, at the angle of the Neversink and Delaware rivers.

He immediately proceeded to the wigwam of the Chief. Early as it was, the Chief was up, and sat at the door smoking. Hawk Eye, for such was the Chief’s name, heard a rustling in the bushes, and looking up, saw the towering form of Cahoonshee approaching.

Good morning, brother; I knew that you were coming.

How knew you that? But one knew of my visit here, and he did not know my motive.

Say not so, my brother. The Great Spirit knows all, and He tells Hawk Eye in a dream.

What did the Great Spirit say?

The Great Spirit tell me in a dream that Cahoonshee had a revelation for me, and I arose early to meet you.

It is well. I am here with news, not from Heaven, but from the Salamanques.

May the Great Spirit protect us then. We can die like our fathers! exclaimed Hawk Eye.

Yes, and fight like your fathers, rejoined Cahoonshee.

Hawk Eye cast his eyes to the ground and meditated for a moment and said:

We are feeble and count by the hundred. They are strong and count by the thousand. What the Cahoonshees now are we soon will be.

What mean you, brother?

I mean, replied the Chief, that the Cahoonshees once lived on these lands, hunted through these hills and fished in these streams. Not so now. Their bodies lie in the earth. Their scalps dangle in the lodges of the Salamanques. One, and only one, is left.

Will the Delawares act like squaws and let the Salamanques take their scalps?

If it is the will of the Great Spirit.

It is not the will of the Great Spirit.

Has Cahoonshee a sign?

Yes, and you shall see it.

When, and where? brother.

To-morrow, replied Cahoonshee. When you hear the first war-whoop, look to the north-west, and you will see a ball of fire fall from Heaven and strike the earth, and run from Mount William to the Delaware river. That is the sign. The Great Spirit has decreed it. To-morrow Cahoonshee will have his revenge. To-morrow the Salamanques go on the war-path for the last time. To-morrow the rivers will run with blood. Hear me Hawk Eye! The Salamanques are in every ambush between here and Lackawaxen. They are well prepared with canoes and rafts. At the rise of the moon to-night they will float down the river. Their main force will land at the brook just above you. Their younger braves will pass by and return up the Mahackamack (Neversink) to your rear. Those at the brook will set the woods on fire on the south side of the brook, and as the smoke is seen to rise above the trees, the warriors on the Neversink will rush on your village.

Not one of us can escape, mournfully exclaimed Hawk Eye.

You shall all escape. But the Salamanques shall roast in their own fire.

Cahoonshee wise. Learned from the white man. Tell Hawk Eye what to do?

That is what I am here for. Send the women, children and aged to the Holicot Glen, above Peanpack. Send a part of your forces on the east side of the Neversink, and the rest of them on the west side of the Delaware. When the ball of fire I have spoken of shall roll along from Mount William to the river, then let your braves advance. The Salamanques cannot escape. They will be between two fires, one on their east, and one on their west. Then let your braves advance. They will be between two fires, and your braves in their front.

It shall be as you say, replied Hawk Eye.

’Tis well. Watch for the ball of fire! and Cahoonshee passed out of sight.

At this time the angle of land lying between the Delaware and Neversink rivers on which the City of Port Jervis now stands was one tangled forest, in the centre of which was located the camping grounds of the Delawares. The banks of the river were studded with lofty white pine trees, whose tops reached far toward the Heavens. On the south side of the brook, the majestic willow towered Heavenward, with their branches bending to and taken root in the earth. Through these willows the wild grape vine had twined and laced itself, its creeping branches forming a barrier to man and beast, but fuel for the elements.

The Delawares had moved their effects, women and children to the Holicot Glen, and placed their forces on the opposite side of the two rivers, retaining sufficient numbers at their forsaken village to keep the camp fires blazing through the night.

In the meantime, the Salamanques had marshalled their forces, and when the earth became enshrouded in the mantle of night, they embarked on board of canoes and rafts and silently floated down the river, and before the break of day had safely landed north of the Spring Brook, with their women and children. A part of their warriors went by the way of the Tri-States Rock, then up the Neversink, as they supposed, in the rear of the Delawares.

When Cahoonshee left Hawk Eye, he went immediately to the white rock, at Mount William. There he found Drake, the two Quick and Rolla. They had prepared a large quantity of pine knots, and the preparation for the ball of fire was commenced. The white rock lay on a flat stone, requiring but little effort to move it. Around this stone, pine knots were securely bound, with strings cut from deer and bear skins.

Such was the preparation and situation of the contending parties on the morning of the memorable Battle of the Neversink. The sun rose over the eastern hills in all its glory. The wind blew from the north-west, as if to aid the Salamanques in the work of death. The torch is applied to the thick underbrush at the brook. The smoke rises above the tree tops. The war-whoop is sounded on the Neversink, and the Indian braves rush forward in their anticipated work of slaughter.

I have my revenge! exclaimed Cahoonshee, jumping on the lever that started the rock.

From rock to rock—from cliff to cliff, the fiery mass descended, tearing its way through the wood, brush and trees, throwing off its death dealing fire, and landed in the cool waters of the Delaware. In its trail, flames burst forth that ascended to the tree tops.

The Salamanques were enclosed on two sides by fire, and cut off from retreat by the Neversink and Delaware rivers on the other side. Then a rush is made for the river, but the Delawares have their ambush on the Pennsylvania side, and by a deadly fire, drive them back. Then a rush is made for the Pine Grove, thinking there was safety in climbing to the uppermost boughs. Men, women and children uttering oaths and imprecations, dash forward. Deep into the lurid waves of fire made by the whirl of glowing smoke, they rushed madly on—tearing at each other like wild beasts, and smothering their yells beneath the luminous element.

The poor wretches who were to die sought the darkest spots; and hid behind clumps of stone, stumps and bushes, or crept under torn masses of wild vines, panting with terror and dread, and trying to hold the very breath that threatened to destroy them. The Pine Grove is reached. Madly they climb to the highest bough. The aged warrior ascends with the agility of youth. The mother with her babe lashed to her back, and the youth springing from bough to bough, like squirrels. Thus, they spring from bough to bough, until the trees are loaded down with human freight.

But the fire rolls on. The cracking of brush—the yells of the victims, and the fall of the timber, creates a smothering, rolling, thundering sound. The fire leaps from bush to bush—from tree to tree, until the Pine Grove is reached. Rosin on the trees take fire, and a sheet of flame reaches the upmost bough. The very elements are on fire. One by one they drop into the surging flames below—roasted, blackened, withered corpses.

Their friends on the Neversink fare no better. When the smoke was seen above the tree tops, they advanced, thinking to drive the Delawares back into the fire, or mercilessly dispatch them with the tomahawk. But they found no enemy. And while they were wondering what had become of them, they saw a ball of fire pass like a dart of lightning from heaven to earth, and heard the shrieks of their friends in the midst of it. Then confusion and disorder ensued, and they retreated back to the Neversink.

As they reached the river, they were met by the Delawares, who received them with a deadly fire, which caused many of them to bite the earth.

But the fire was upon them. It was either drown or burn. They choose the former, and rushed for the river. This became their burial place, and their bodies became food for the fishes.

As they poured over the bank, the cool and collected Delawares dispatched them with the tomahawk and scalping knife, and the crystal waters of the Neversink were colored with blood.

The victory was complete. Nearly all that had so silently floated down the river the night before, were now locked in the cold embrace of death, and as the sun set in the western horizon, and the earth became enshrouded in the mantle of night, death reigned in silence.

While the conflagration was going on, and while the flames, like forked arrows were hissing through the branches of the trees, and amid the groans of the wounded, burning and dying, which could be heard above the crackling of the falling wood, the tall, erect form of Cahoonshee appeared in the front ground, on the highest pinnacle of Point Peter, with Rolla standing by his side. Feelings of satisfaction and regret occupied his mind. Satisfaction that the murderers of his fathers were punished. Regret that the white man would seize upon this opportunity to appropriate the land to themselves.

The smoke lifted for a moment, and looking toward Mount William, he saw the forms of five dusky Salamanques crouching in the brush.

It is finished, he said. My time has come. But I will not die by the hands of the Salamanques. I will throw myself from these rocks, and be buried by my friends, the Delawares.

You die by the fagot—not by the fall! exclaimed a voice behind him.

Turning, he saw three tomahawks raised. To advance or retreat was impossible.

I am yours, exclaimed Cahoonshee. Do your pleasure.

It is no pleasure to kill a dog—a coward!

Coward! ejaculated Cahoonshee.

Yes—a faint hearted woman, afraid to meet death like your fathers. You were about to meet death by throwing yourself from the rocks to save being tortured by fire.

Cahoonshee keenly felt the reproach.

I rely on the Great Spirit, he said. If it is His will the fire will not burn.

Did the Great Spirit kindle the fire that roasted my people?

Yes, through my agency he sent fire from the skies and consumed the Salamanques. Do your worst. I have had my revenge. Years ago you destroyed my tribe. Their bodies lay mouldering in yonder hill, and their scalps hang in your lodges. I alone am left. Many suns have I seen rise.

You will see it rise but once more. At sun rise to-morrow, the Skull Rock will be lit up, and Cahoonshee will die a coward at the stake.

Cahoonshee remained silent.

Is the great warrior dumb? asked the Chief.

Yes, when he talks to the Great Spirit. And stooping down, he picked up a piece of slate stone and wrote upon it:

“Prisoner. To be burned at the stake at sun-rise to-morrow at Skull Rock.”

Take this (addressing the dog) to your Master.

The dog seized it and bounded down the rocks.

See, said the Chief, the dog is ashamed of the cowardly spirit of his Master.

Cahoonshee’s hands were then tied behind him, and the march to Skull Rock commenced. Their course was north-west until they reached Mongaup. Then over the ridge to Fish Cabin Brook. Then up the cliff to Skull Rock.

This was the place where for years the Indians had tortured their prisoners by burning them at the stake, and skulls were frequently found on the ground. It was a high pinnacle rising several hundred feet above the water of the Delaware, and the rocks hanging over the river. (See Appendix.)

The Quicks and Drake, as soon as the fire ball started, returned to their cabin on the Shinglekill, and viewed from the distance the fire and smoke that ascended above the battle-field on the Neversink.

The sun had just set when Rolla came bounding in and dropped a stone at Drake’s feet, and then whined as if in distress.

The dog means something, said the elder Quick.

In the meantime Drake had picked up the slate and was trying to decipher the marks on it.

Here is something about the Skull Rock, but that is all I can make out.

That means that Cahoonshee is in trouble—perhaps a prisoner. Dry the stone and you can read it better.

Drake held the stone to the fire, and then read: “Prisoner. To be burned at the stake at sunrise, to-morrow at Skull Rock.”

Our friend is doomed, exclaimed Drake, can we do anything to free him?

That depends on how many Indians there are with him. We saw several hundred go down the river but none have returned. If they go to the rock in force we cannot help him. But they usually take but six or eight on such occasions, and with my knowledge of the ground and the under ground approach, I think we could rescue him.

Let us try, said Tom. I will take my chances. There is an under ground approach to that place, known only to Cahoonshee and myself, said the elder Quick. It will be several hours before sunrise and we have time to get there and make our arrangements. Put new flints in your guns and fill the knapsacks with provisions and ammunition.

It was now late in the evening. The night was clear, with full moon as the parties started on their errand of mercy. They had about six miles to travel to reach their destination. Their course lay along the north bank of the river until they reached the foot of the cliff. Reaching that point, Quick admonished the boys to be careful, as the least misstep would throw them down the rocks. The ascent was almost perpendicular. They climbed up rock after rock by clinging to the roots until they had ascended two thirds of the mountain. Here was a projecting table rock on which had grown a massive birch tree. And, under this was a fissure in the rock that led to the top. The entrance to this fissure was directly behind the birch tree, and was so small that it was difficult for a man to creep through. From this point to the top there was a sudden rise of five or six feet, which was about one hundred feet from the tree where the victim was to be bound. Up through this narrow gulch the party proceeded until the top is reached, the elder Quick taking the lead and Rolla bringing up the rear. Daylight was just appearing, but it would be an hour more before sunrise, and this left them time to perfect their arrangements. This was, that each man should pick out his man and fire at the same time. Then the two Quicks should rush out with their knives and release Cahoonshee, leaving Drake and Rolla free to rush on the enemy. A sharp lookout is kept in the direction that the enemy is expected. At last their gaze was rewarded, nearly a half a mile off five Indians were seen approaching with Cahoonshee in their midst. When within five hundred feet, one of the Indians advanced and minutely examined the ground. Not seeing anything to excite his suspicion, he signaled the rest of the party and they advanced.

Cahoonshee was tied to a tree and wood piled around him, when the chief addressed him:—Thus dies the white man’s friend, once the great Cahoonshee, now a lying dog, a craven coward. Now call on the white man’s God. Now see if he will save you.

Coward I may be, but liar I am not; I told the Delawares the truth and they believed me.

What did you tell Delaware dogs?

I told them of your plan to destroy them. With all your cunning I heard your plans at the climbing tree. You destroyed my Fathers, I helped destroy your Nation. Do your worst, Salamanque; do your worst, you may have my scalp to take to your village in the place of a thousand warriors, now smoking in yonder fire. Cahoonshee has had his revenge. Kindle your fire. Roast me alive. Ha! Ha! Ha!

The exasperated chief ordered the fire kindled. At that instant, Drake gave the imitation of the tree toad, and three guns belched forth, and three dusky Indians bit the earth in death. At the same instant, the two Quicks sprang forward to release Cahoonshee. Rolla went for the fourth Indian and soon had him by the throat. Drake made for the remaining one with his knife. At the discharge of the guns the survivor seized his bow and arrows and drew it on Drake. But Drake was so close to him that the arrow flew over his head. But in so doing, he lost his knife. Then they grappled in deadly combat and struggled toward the precipice that yawned several hundred feet beneath them, each one exerting himself might and main to throw the other over and save himself. The brink is reached, and Drake hurled the Indian off, but his own momentum carried him off, and they both disappeared in the abyss below.

Saved, exclaimed Tom as he sundered the last thong that bound Cahoonshee.

Yes, but at a fearful cost. A young life has gone out to save an old wreck that nature will soon remove.

What mean you, Cahoonshee?

I mean that Drake has gone to the spirits-land. Did you not see him leap from the cliff and follow the Indian in his downward flight?

So sudden had been the charge, and exciting the contest that the Quicks had failed to see the fearful leap that Drake and the Indian had taken, and for the moment were speechless.

There, said Cahoonshee, pointing to the highest point of the cliff, there is where they went down and, now lays a mangled corpse at the bottom. But we must find the body.

Just then Rolla set up a howl that echoed up and down the valley.

That means something, exclaimed Cahoonshee, go and see what the dog is making such a noise about.

Tom crawled to the edge of the precipice and looked over. Some hundred feet down he saw a dark object in a large birch tree.

What do you see, asked the elder Quick.

A man, replied Tom, but whether it is Drake or the Indian I cannot tell.

It is Drake, exclaimed Cahoonshee. The dog would have remained silent if it had been the Indian. Speak, and see if he will answer you.

Just then Drake’s voice was heard deep down the mountain.

Hello, Drake, is that you?

Yes.

Are you hurt?

No, but I am wedged in the crotch of the tree and can’t get out.

Tom, tell him to remain quiet a few minutes and we will help him out, said Cahoonshee.

Quick and Cahoonshee trimmed up a grape vine and lowered it down to Drake. He tied it around his body and by the united strength of those on the cliff, Drake was hauled to the top.

Bravo boy! Bravo boy! exclaimed Cahoonshee, the great spirit is on your side.

That may be, replied Drake, but if it had not been for you and the grape-vine, I think I should have hung there until the crows had picked my bones.

Say not that, said Cahoonshee, it was God’s plan to save you. He gave instinct to the dog to smell you out. He gave growth and strength to the vine to pull you up. And to us the common instincts of humanity to save you.

But we must be going. We are not beyond danger yet. Let us return to the Shinglekill and make arrangements for the future.

And leave the Indians unburied? said Drake.

Yes, leave them as they would have left us—for the wild beasts to pick their bones. See, the vultures have already scented their carcases.

The parties then wound their way down the rocks to the river, and from there down the north back to the cabin on the Shinglekill. Cahoonshee seemed to be down cast and despondent, sitting alone under the butternut trees, with his body bent forward and his head clasped in his hands. Drake watched him for some time, but was unable to discover his trouble, when the words he heard him speak at the Skull Rock came to his mind—

“We are not out of danger yet!”

What troubles Cahoonshee? Is it the danger you spoke of at the Skull Rock?

Yes, in part. There is still danger of the Salamanques. They will hunt me down. But there is another danger that threatens the lives of all the white people between the Hudson and Delaware Rivers. I cannot tell when the blow will be struck. It may be a month—it may be years. The Indians feel their wrongs deeply. They see the whites increase and the Indians diminish. They know that by falsehood and intrigue they have been deprived of their land. They see from the Hudson on the east, to the Delaware on west, and to Kingston on the north, the white man has taken possession of the land and the Indian is being driven west. Both banks of the Delaware from Milford to the Neversink are now dotted with the white man’s house, and the lodge of the Indian has passed away. The Neversink valley and the Peanpack flats are occupied by Hollanders and French, and their cry is “Indian, go West.” The spirit of the Indian is broken, but their religion remains the same. Revenge is a part of their religion. Revenge they have resolved on, and a terrible revenge it will be. Before many moons have passed a general uprising will take place from the Hudson to the Lakes. Men, women and children will be killed and scalped, their houses and barns burned, their property destroyed, their homes made desolate, and all will be desolation and death. The Indian will have his revenge and go west. The white man will follow. The Indian will turn again, and the ravages of Indian warfare will be repeated.

And thus, for generation after generation, the war of races will go on until the last red man is driven over the western slope and their bones are buried in the Pacific. It is nature’s decree. The Indian must go. The places that know them now, will soon know them no more forever.

To me and my people it will make no difference. They are gone and I must follow them soon. I have but one wish to gratify. Let that wish be gratified, and I can resign myself to the keeping of the great “I Am.”

Here Cahoonshee bowed his head again and remained silent.

What is it you wish to accomplish that seems to be as dear to you as life itself? asked Drake.

I wish to find your parents. That accomplished, I can die with pleasure. Drake, you have now arrived at the age of manhood, and unlike Tom, you have employed your time in improving your mind. There are but few in these colonies who are better qualified than you to enter upon active life. You have been a dutiful son to me, and I have tried to be to you a kind father. In the course of nature we must soon part, I to lay myself down, you to enter upon the active duties of life. I have therefore resolved to go in search of your parents and take you with me. We must prepare at once, and day after to-morrow we must bid good-bye to the Shinglekill and our friends. We will go first to Kingston, and then down the Hudson to Manhattan. At one of these places I think that we will get information that will lead us to find your father.

What reason have you for thinking that my father is to be found there? asked Drake.

The mark on your breast is my guide. Undoubtedly the letters “C. D.” represent your name. But whether it is Drake, Davis or Daniels, I don’t know. The letters “E. N.” I am satisfied stands for English Navy. Therefore, I expect to learn some thing about your father by inquiring on board of the English war-ships.

But you have never said anything about this before.

I had my reason for that, and in time you will appreciate them. To-morrow we must take up the bee tree, and the next day start on our journey.

Drake was at a loss to understand why Cahoonshee had come to such a sudden conclusion. He could readily see why he should fear the Salamanques, but he had not discovered anything to lead him to think that there would be trouble between the whites and the Indians. Yet he placed implicit confidence in what Cahoonshee said, and intended to follow his advice. Yet to leave the Delaware Valley, and above all, to leave Amy, cost him a pang.

That night it was arranged that the next day they would go and take up the bee tree, and then the Quicks and Amy should return to the Milford farm, and Cahoonshee and Drake should start for Kingston.