Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 193, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 August 1914 — The MAID of the FOREST. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The MAID of the FOREST.

by RANDALL PARRISH

' 3- ILLUSTRATED &D. J. LAVIN T t T ca=Y/?fGrrr a.c.msclm?<? u co.^ya

CHAPTER XX—Continued. It was all over with so quickly I could scarcely realise what had actually occurred. Then I laughed and swore, my nerves dancing like so many demons. They were gone—gone! Those merciless red devils, those accursed murderers, those fiends in human guise. Nor was it likely they would stop in their mad flight until they dropped from sheer exhaustion, or the dawn of another day brought with It fresh courage. And those others, who were yet there—Brady, tied still to the stake, the flames already licking the fagots at his feet, and mademoiselle praying to the Virgin—what would they think? Would they know, understand, what had really occurred, or had the terrible spectacle left them also in benumbed tenor? The thought awoke me as from ‘a stupor, and I turned about. The ground was a jumble of things, as if I looked upon a battle field, yet this was not what I really saw in that first swift glance. A man—a white man—ran leaping across the flame-lit opening, kicking aside the blazing fagots of wood already scorching Brady, burling them to right and left in frantic haste, until he made passage through. I caught the glimmer of a knife in his hand; and then, by rdain strength, he dragged the weakened prisoner clear of the burning wood, and dropped him exhausted on the ground. As the fellow stood erect, staring about him, at the helpless huddle at his feet, at the white face of the girl, at the debris on every side, I recognized Simon Girty. “Saints alive! What does all this mean?” he cried, grabbing up the gun dropped in his first swift effort at rescue. “You ‘Running Water;’ ay! and this ie the Kentuckian who would have killed me. What’s happened bffere? It looks like a shambles. Never before did I see a man burning himself. ,Wko killed these —merciful God! Hvhat is that?” His voice rose into a shriek as he stared at me, while I advanced toward him. With one terrorized leap he sprang back, throwing up his rifle, but with hands shaking so, that 1 laughed outright The sound coming unexpectedly from such ghastly lips must have been more horrible than a groan, for the frightened man dashed his weapon to the ground, and turned to run. His foot struck Brady’s body and he went down, scrambling to his knees. 1 saw the old scout’s head uplifted, the trembling girl bury her face in her hands, as If to shut out the sight. “Don't run; there is nothing to be afraid of!” I cried hastily, stopping still in my tracks to better reassure them. “I am no ghost, but a friend. Hear ms, mademoiselle!"

CHAPTER XXI. Through the Black Night. She dropped her hands from before her eyes, and, holding out the white cross gleaming in the firelight, came slowly forward. A yard from me she stopped, hesitating, not even yet thoroughly convinced of my identity. "Is—is It really yon. Joseph Hayward?" her lips faltered. “Tell me, 1 bag yon, for—for 1 was never so frightened In my Ufa" "There is nothing for yon to fear, mademoiselle,” I said quickly, regretful enough to have startled her so. "I am Joseph Hayward, the American. T was bat to save you 1 played this part.* ' , She hurled her face in her hands, sobbing hysterically, her slender' form trembling. 1 “Oh. I am glad—glad!" she managed to whisper. *T —I am not superstitious, not weak; but this was so real, so dreadful, that all thought left me. Oh, how could you. bow could you do thatr "it was all that was left for me to do," I explained, my heart throbbing, as I drew her hands from before her face, and looked into her eyes. "Tea mast not blame me, mademoiselle. 1 could not light alone against them aIL 1 was erased with despair when I Hist thought of this. It was as though Ood Inspired me to the attempt." ify eyes looking beyond her saw Qirty on his knees, reaching for his rifle in the dirt. Then he arose to his feet. Us face showing bard and ugly la the firelight. “What's an this mad play about!" he ejaculated roughly. "Come now, speak up thar, or IH try wtwt lead kin do. Are ye ghost, er man 7 Burn me if I'm afraid o’ either!" "Tour courage has been tested," I returned in humor. "But you might as well lower the gun Qirty. There Is no occasion to shoot at me." I stepped set into fuller view. "Do you know me now!” He stared, uncertain, into my daystreaked face, his eyes narrowed into mere slits. "Maybe I do, an’ maybe I don’t," he admitted at last obstinately. "Yer're like the lad who guided me into Harmar, but yer a sight.for all that. If yes had yer face washed, an* more hair showin’ I could Judge better, matt all this play-actin’ about anyhow? Though't wasn’t much play in ft for ms, I reckon,” pointing to Brady, "when I got here. A minute more, an’ the man would have beep sheeted Ip v 1 stepped toward him, amused to fees

the man shrink back, half startled still at my weird decoration, and dropped a hand heavily on his shoulder. “Does that feel like the grip of a phantom, you fool?” I asked sharply. “If it does I’ll shut down tighter still for your benefit. My tale can wait its telling until we be well out of here. There will be time enough then to satisfy your curiosity. Those fellows may get over their fright and come back.” “What fellows?” “A mixed band of Mlamis, Ojibwaa and Shawneea —mostly Shawnees with a chief named Sis-e-te-wah! ” “Huh! So it was those devils? The same gang I left at the foot of the island. But there were no Shawneea with them then. Sis-e-te-wah, did you say? I know the rascal, but never be-

fore did I hear of him being bold enough for such a deed. What stirred him to it?” “There was a white man with them.” 1 "Ah! Now we have the truth —a redcoat?” and his eyes were on my jacket. “He wore one—stolen no doubt —but was no soldier. Mademoiselle knew the man, a ruffian called Jules Lappin.” He- gazed into my face a minute and laughed, slapping his knee in sudden merriment. "Lord! But that’s a good one, boy! By the Lord Harry! 1 was a fine joke. But maybe we better move, friend, for he would not be in good humor if he did come, and I am scarcely in better grace with him than you.” “Go where?” "To join my party. Did yer think It likely I was here alone? I’ll tell yer the whole of it in a word. I found the warriors of the Wyandots marching south, an* joined them. Have yoU heard it was war? Ay! There's nq stopping now; the tribes, have taken the trail, the tomahawks are bloody. "T is said \St Clair has left Harmar already, and there will be fighting on the Wabash. Pish! It is easy to guess how It will end." * - "Where are your Indians?" "At the foot of the lake. I scouted up the shore as far as the ford; saw the blase of fire over here and crept up through the woods to investigate. Then somebody fired a gun, and I ran forward. This ia what I found.” He waved his hand about the open space. "Now you understand. I reckon the best thing for us to do is to get out” I looked down at Brady doubtfully; then stepped over beside him. “How is he, mademoiselle?” I asked, "can he talk at all?” "If you bend close to his lips you can hear his words,” she answered glancing up at my face. The hunter's eyes were.bright; he seemed to be trying to speak, and I dropped on my knees beside her. "What is It, Brady V There was a taint muttering, hot I distinguished the words. "Was—was that—Simon Qirty 7” "Yes." '4 “The —the man—who, who—cut me down?” "Yes.” “Whar —whar is he now?" “Rigbt here; you want to speak to him—oh, Qirty?” The renegade came toward us, and the eyea of the two borderers met. For a long moment they looked at each other, many a memory, no doubt, floating between. Then Brady held out a blaokened hand. “Yer saved my life, Simon Qirty," he said with an effort "I —I never thought to—shake hands with you—but—hut I’m a goln’ to." Girty’s ugly face broke into a smile. "No more did I,” he admitted grimly. “We ain’t ginerally been in no shakin’ hands mood when we’ve met heretofore. Still, I reckon, we’re about even up an’ kin afford ter shake if we wanter. Think yer kin {ravel a bit Brady?” ' “How far?” - i "To the foot of the lake; to a Wyandot camp.” The hunter’s eyes wandered from his face to mine. * “I—l reckon I cap,” he mumbled at

last. "I —ain't hurt so much, only bruised up.” Hte glance fell upon hia feet “Maybe if—l had some whole moccasins I’d get along better.” “We’ll fix that,” and Girty laughed. “I reckon that’s what them dead Injuns is lying there for." He stepped across to the nemest body, fumbled a moment, and came back, dropping on his knees. Deftly and quickly he eat the burned leather from the wounded man’s feet, touching the blackened flesh gingerly with Us fingers, and slipped on the new mooea<• sins. : V “You’re not scorched much, friend. Harts some, I reckon, bat a couple o days will put you all right agin.” • AS I pen these adventures of youth I eeem to retain bat dim recollection of what occurred following our arrival at the camp at the foot of the lake I recall the straggle we had with Brady, which taxed dirty's strength as well as my own. The man suffered greatly, and for much of the distance we bore him in oar arms in spite of his protests. Yet we reached the spot at last, and Btumbled Into the circle of light cast by a small fire, the Indians aroused from sleep by Girty’s about, and clustering about ns in eager curiosity. At first view I deemed them hostile, bat a word from the girl made them friendly enough. It was the fourth day, on the banks of the Maumee, that we came straggling into the Indian encampment, and passed through howling hordes, who struck at us in spite of the guards. The word passed that one of the white prisoners was Stephen Brady caused them to press about us so close that we were fairly hemmed into the mass, infuriated faces on every side, wild shrieking making an indescribable din. The situation was becoming serious, for the guards cared little what befell us, when Girty, accompanied by three Wyandot chiefß and a white man in British uniform, fought passage through the crowd, and by threats and blows, won way for us through the village. The extent of this surprised me, and gave me a new conception of the power of those northwest Indian tribes. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands, gathered there v for we' only traversed one end of the encampment, the warriors *of tribes whose homes were as far away as the great lakes and the big rivers. There were few wigwams elected, not more than two or three standing in the shadow of trees close beside the river. Big as the encampment was, it was no perms nent village, but a mere rendezvous for the various tribes allied for war. To one of these, covered with deerskin and rendered hideous by tribal totems, we were taken, and thrust within. At last Ure were a|one, Brady and I, although. we could Btill hear the yelling without. He lay extended, on his litter, and I dropped to the ground, thoroughly exhausted from the rough buffeting through which I had passed.

CHAPTER XXII. Rene Comes. The afternoon passed slowly. We discussed the chances of escape, yet knew so. little of our surroundings as to gain slight satisfaction. If we could be certain that there were no Indians on. the opposite bank of the river .we might venture an attempt But we were far from Bure. v Thus far all had been failure, our mission useless, our sufferings vain; Schultz had given up his life, Brady was wounded and suffering, and I, as well as he, a helpless prisoner. Yet even this could be borne with patience if only I could perceive some way to become of service, some means by which I could wqrn St Clair of this tornado of savagery about to sweep down upon him. * Slowly, insensibly, the vision of mademoiselle came. What a life bad been hers from childhood, and yet how the true, sweet womanhood had conquered all savage environment She was in my mind still, a soft, tender memory, when the ekin concealing the entrance was lifted and she stood In the narrow opening looking in. I could see her slender, lightly poised form outlined against the fire, but seemingly her eyes could not penetrate the darkness within. An instant she hesitated, leaning slightly forward. "Monsieur.” "Yes,” I said eagerly, already on my feet "I was longing for you to come.” She came forward cautiously, guided by the sound of my voice, leaving the entrance open, permitting me to glimpse the guard without facing the opening. "You have come to help us, mademoiselle?” I whispered, bending s a close her hair brushed my lips. "You feel that our need is that desperate?” "I must do right,” she answered, yet without lifting her eyes to mine, "as God tells me. I pray to him for guidance. You are white men and Christians; you came to the Wyandots on a mission of peace. What Is my duty, monsieur? I also am Christian, and only a drop of Indian blood flows in my veins. Yet all my life have I been Indian. How can I turn against my own people?” "I cannot think that you do,” I urged as she paused, breathing heavily. “The Wyandots have been falsely led, deceived. They have been driven Into this war by the lies of white men. Would we be in danger now if our fate was left to a council of Wyandot chiefs?” ' "No; they would listen to me, and believe. It is Hamilton and his white aides *bo refuse to hear the story. I went to his tepee twice, and was fumed away—the last time with insults, as though I were an unknown squawt" ? "How. then, did you gain permission to come here?" "I waited until be left the camp. There are but two white men hen to-

night, and one of (baa t* Girty. I like not the man, bat bo poems friendly to you, and so I trust him. He soggsstod that I come, and told me something which gave me courage. He bad heard a word dropped by Hamilton which made him suspect your Uvea were at stake. He dare not act openly, but he sent me to tell you this, and to whisper to you his plan. It waa easy for me to come here with Hamilton away. The guards are Wyandot*, and I had only to aak the chief to let me dress Monsieur Brady's wounds. He had not been warned against me, and saspeeted nothing. Tte'gntfMunia who waa left in command was led by Girty to the other end of the village. When the chief sought him, he was not to be found, and so I was given permission.” She stepped silently beck to the entrance, and glanced out Into the firelight, returning as swiftly to clasp my “Listen, monsieur; I mast apeak fast, tor I know not who may suspicion us. Now mark every word, for *t is a desperate chance. Two boon from now he ready. We must work while Hamilton la away. I will somehow draw the guard away from this side here, next to river, monsieur. When you hear an owl hoot three times creep beneath the skins and down the bank to the water’s edge. Yon must move like foxee, for there will be sleeping warriors to pass. Go down stream.” “And then?” I asked breathlessly, as she stopped to glance behind. “A quarter of a mile below, at the end of the village, around a sharp bend, Girty win have a canoe tied to a tree that overhangs the water. It will be in shadow, and concealed by brush. He has promised to pot Into it food, paddles and one gun. Yon most hide daring daylight—are you sure you understand all?” “Yee; that is clear, but I must ask a question—where is St. Clair?” “I do not know exactly, but he is marching toward'the.little Wabash; he seeks to destroy the Miami towns.” “With what force?” “Less than two thousand, the scouts say. He only expects to meet the Indians of the Wabash.” A head was thrust through the flap, and a gruff voice spoke in a strange language. The girl’s fingers pressed mine firmly, and then she turned and went out in silence. As she passed out of the opening her hand dropped toe skin, leaving the interior in darkness. I stood motionless, listening to the many sounds without, hardly conscious yet that she bad gone. The hot blood was throbbing in my veins, but it was caused by no thought of the dangers

confronting me. At that moment she alone occupied my mind. Then slowly her message recurred, forcing its way ifi upon my consciousness with insistence. Tonight—our escape must be made within two short hours. I stepped forward to awaken Brady, bqt now, with my brain cleared, a sudden suspicion came. Was this honest planning/ Was the desire back of it actually our escape? Or was it horn of treachery? Not tor an Instant did I question'her—the purtty and truth of her purpose—but Simon Qirty. Why should he scheme to help us? * Never before had I heard his name spoken as any harbinger of mercy to the frontier. I recalled his ugly face, his narrow, furtive eyea, and my doubt of him increased. The plan was too easy, too well oiled, to be altogether natural. I shook Brady awake, told him all that had occurred, so far aa related to our effort, but without voicing my suspicion. Twice we started at the distant hoot of an owl, but It was not repeated. Then, at last, the signal came, sounding near at hand, from somewhere down the stream. Brady weqt first, worming his way silently beneath the flap, and, the instant he disappeared, 1 followed. There was a slight gully to our left, and we crept Into it, keeping down out of the gleam of fire. Lying side by side at the edge of the water he put his lips close to my ear. "On your back, lad. with only the nose out; stroke easy, and let the current carry you down.” (TO BE CONTINUED.)

The Flames Already Licking the Fagota at His Feet.

A Head Was Thrust Through the Flap and a Gruff Voice Spoke.