Part 8

"'Wait,' said John; 'I have not done the half that I intend to do for you.'

"Nick, whose bed was nearest the hovel, now arose, and placed himself against it, that he might be ready to act when John's signal was given. He first, however, awoke his men, without permitting them to rise, by the summary process of slightly pricking each one with the sharp point of a bayonet.

"The tories, stowed like sheep in the little hut, soon began to drink, and, as they did so, became very valorous and boastful. McPherson, singularly communicative to John, detailed his atrocities on the route with savage exultation. He feared no assault--not he! He was strong enough to repel any handful of half-starved, skulking outlaws. If he caught any of the Cow-boys he would hang them to their own trees, and manure the soil with the blood of their women.

"John had crept to the door by degrees, and now stood with his hand upon the raised latchet. He applauded the officer's remarks, and was willing, he said, to aid him in the deed he contemplated. He then proposed a toast, and, filling a tin-cup with liquor, said in a loud voice, 'Hurrah for Ginral Washington, and down with the red-coats!' The liquor was dashed in McPherson's face, and John vanished from the hut. Nick immediately summoned his men by a repetition of the toast, and the fifty hillocks of snow were suddenly changed, as if by magic, into as many armed and furious 'rebels.' Before the Skinners could recover from the momentary surprise into which this curious incident had thrown them, a volley of powder and shot had been fired into their midst. Dashing like a frightened hare through the open door, McPherson beheld his assailants. His fears magnified their numbers, and, conceiving there was no hope in fight, he summoned his men to follow him in flight.

"They madly rushed after him, and forcing their way through the dry limbs of brush that stuck up on the banks of the lake, gained the frozen surface. More than one half their number had taken this course, while the rest had either fallen victims to the first fire, or taken to their heels towards the main road. Suddenly a terrible crash was heard, accompanied by a splash, and a hubbub of unearthly screams. The ice had broken, and 'Dead Man's Lake' was accomplishing a victory for the handful of American patriots who stood upon its banks.

"The result was, that over twenty of the Skinners were taken prisoners. Only half-a-dozen were killed by fire-arms. The lake was examined at sunrise, and fifteen bodies were drawn from its remorseless bosom. The remainder, McPherson among them, escaped."

"That Nick Odell was nearly equal to old Nick himself in stratagems," said Wilson, when Smith had concluded.

"It's a wonder the men didn't freeze to death under the snow," said Morton. "I think I should have been opposed to trying such a way of disposing of myself."

"Oh! there 's no doubt about its keeping you warm," said old Harmar.

"How can cold snow keep men warm?" enquired Thomas Jefferson Harmar.

"I suppose," answered Higgins, "that it's much like blowing your warm breath on anything hot to cool it."

As nobody seemed disposed to contradict this explanation, old Higgins took it for granted that he was correct; and Thomas Jefferson was satisfied.

STORY OF THE HALF-BREED.

"Now," said young Harmar, who, as a literary gentleman, was anxious to collect as many incidents of the Revolution as he could from these old men; "now, Mr. Higgins, you must oblige us by recalling something of your experience."

"Ah!" replied Higgins, "if I could tell in words a small part of what I know of the war, I'm sure I could interest you."

"We are not critical," said old Harmar. "Jackson may think of his bookish notions sometimes; but he knows what kind of old men we are. Narrate anything that comes uppermost."

"Well," commenced Higgins, "I'll tell you about an adventure of a friend of mine, named Humphries, with a half-breed--that's horribly interesting--if I can only recollect it." And, after a short pause, to let his old memory bring up the incidents from the far past, Higgins told the following story of revenge.

"In the country around Saratoga, when General Gates lay encamped there, lived a half-breed Indian, called Blonay. He was well known in the neighborhood as a fierce and outlawed character, who wandered and skulked from place to place, sometimes pretending to be for the Americans, and, at others, for the tories. He went anywhere, and did everything to serve his own ends; but his whole life, and all his actions, seemed centred in one darling object, and that was revenge. He had deeply and fearfully sworn never to rest until he had drawn the heart's blood of Humphries, a member of Morgan's corps, and his greatest enemy. They had been mortal foes from boyhood, and a blow Humphries had given Blonay had fixed their hatred for life. He had pursued him from place to place with untiring vigilance, and had watched, day after day, and month after month, for an opportunity to glut his revenge, but none offered.

"One morning, Humphries and a comrade named Davis, with a negro servant belonging to Marion's band, were standing on a small hill near the encampment, when a strange dog suddenly appeared through the bushes, at the sight of which Humphries seized his rifle, and raised it to his eye, as if about to fire. The black was about to express his surprise at this sudden ferocity of manner, when, noticing that the dog was quiet, he lowered the weapon, and, pointing to the animal, asked Davis if he knew it. 'I do; but can't say where I've seen him,' replied the other. 'And what do you say, Tom?' he asked of the black, in tones that startled him. 'Don't you know that dog?' 'He face berry familiar, massa, but I loss to recollect.' 'That's the cur of Blonay, and the bear-eyed rascal must be in the neighborhood.' 'Do you think so?' inquired Davis. 'Think so! I know so; and why should he be here if his master was not?' 'Tom,' he continued, 'hit the critter a smart blow with your stick--hard enough to scare him off, but not to hurt him; and do you move to the edge of the creek, Davis, as soon as the dog runs off, for his master must be in that direction, and I want to see him.'

"Thus ordering, he called two of the riflemen that were near, and sent them on the path directly opposite to that taken by Davis. He himself prepared to strike the creek at a point between these two. He then made a signal, and Tom gave the dog a heavy blow, which sent him howling into the swamp, taking, as they had expected, the very path he came. Blonay, however, was not to be caught napping. He left the point from which he was watching the camp, and running in a line for some fifty yards, turned suddenly about for the point at which he had entered the swamp. But he could not but have some doubts as to the adequacy of his concealment. He cursed the keen scent of the dog, which he feared would too quickly discover him to his pursuers. He hurried on, therefore, taking the water at every chance, to leave as small a trail as possible; but, from place to place, the cur kept after him, giving forth an occasional yelp. 'Aroint the pup! there's no losin' him. If I had my hand on him, I should knife him as my best caution,' exclaimed the half-breed, as the bark of the dog, in making a new trail, showed the success with which he pursued him. Exasperated, he rose upon a stump, and saw the head of Humphries, who was still pressing on, led by the cries of the dog.

"'I can hit him now,' muttered Blonay. 'It's not two hundred yards, and I've hit a smaller mark than that at a greater distance, before now.'

"He raised the rifle and brought the sight to his eye, and would have fired, but the next minute Humphries was covered by a tree. The dog came on, and Blonay heard the voices of his pursuers behind; and just then the dog reached him.

"The faithful animal, little knowing the danger into which he had brought his master, leaped fondly upon him, testifying his joy by yelping with his greatest vocal powers.

"With a hearty curse, Blonay grasped the dog by the back of the neck, and, drawing the skin tightly across the throat, quickly passed the keen edge of his knife but once over it, and then thrust the body from him. Sheathing the knife and seizing his rifle, he again set forward, and did not stop till he gained a small but thick under-brush. His pursuers now came up to the dead body of the dog; seeing which, they considered further pursuit hopeless.

"At this moment, sounds of a trumpet came from the camp, as the signal to return. Humphries told the others to obey its summons, but avowed his determination of pursuing Blonay until he or the other had fallen. After they had left him, he again set forward, and walked very fast in the direction he supposed his enemy had taken, and had not proceeded far ere he saw his track in the mud, which he followed until it was lost among the leaves. Darkness coming on, he gave up the chase until the next morning. That night both slept in the swamp, not more than two hundred yards apart, but unconscious of each other's locality. In the morning, Humphries was the first to awake. Descending from the tree where he had slept, he carefully looked around, thinking what he should do next. While he thus stood, a slight noise reached his ears, sounding like the friction of bark; a repetition of it showed where it came from. He glanced at an old cypress which stood in the water near him, and saw that its trunk was hollow, but did not look as if it would hold a man. On a sudden, something prompted him to look upward, and, in the quick glance he gave, the glare of a wild and well-known eye, peeping out upon him from its woody retreat, met his gaze. With a howl of delight, he raised his rifle, and the drop of the deadly instrument fell upon the aperture; but before he could draw the trigger the object was gone. It was Blonay, who, the moment he perceived the aim of Humphries' piece, sank into the body of the tree.

"'Come out and meet your enemy like a man!' exclaimed Humphries, 'and don't crawl, like a snake, into a hollow tree, and wait for his heel. Come out, you skunk! You shall have fair fight, and your own distance. It shall be the quickest fire that shall make the difference of chances between us. Come out, if you're a man!' Thus he raved at him; but a fiendish laugh was the only answer he got. He next tried to cut his legs with his knife, by piercing the bark; but a bend of the tree, on which Blonay rested, prevented him. He then selected from some fallen limbs one of the largest, which he carried to the tree and thrust into the hollow, trying to wedge it between the inner knobs on which the feet of the half-breed evidently were placed. But Blonay soon became aware of his design, and opposed it with a desperate effort. Baffled for a long time by his enemy, Humphries became enraged, and, seizing upon a jagged knot of light wood, he thrust it against one of the legs of Blonay. Using another heavy knot as a mallet, he drove the wedge forward against the yielding flesh, which became awfully torn and lacerated by the sharp edges of the wood. Under the severe pain, the feet were drawn up, and Humphries was suffered to proceed with his original design. The poor wretch, thus doomed to be buried alive, was now willing to come to any terms, and agreed to accept the offer to fight; but Humphries refused him, exclaiming, 'No, you don't, you cowardly skunk! you shall die in your hole, like a varmint as you are; and the tree which has been your house shall be your coffin. There you shall stay, if hard chunks and solid wood can keep you, until your yellow flesh rots away from your bones. You shall stay there until the lightning rips open your coffin, or the autumn winds tumble you into the swamp.' So saying, he left him, and went back to the camp--left him to die in the old woods, where no help could ever come; and in this wild and awful manner--buried alive--perished the savage half-breed."

"That was an awful death, indeed," exclaimed Mrs. Harmar. "That Humphries must have been a very disagreeable fellow."

"And why so?" enquired Higgins. "The men in those parts of the country were forced to be as fierce as their foes. Humphries was one of the cleverest fellows I ever knew."