The Frontier Angel: A Romance of Kentucky Rangers' Life

He stared bewilderingly about him. Gradually a recollection of his situation came to him. And then he was filled with apprehension lest he had betrayed himself. He listened carefully for a few minutes, but hearing nothing, judged that matters were all right; and, as he was excessively sleepy, he dropped languidly back again, and was falling rapidly into a state of unconsciousness, when he was waked again.

The fact was he had been overheard by a couple of brawny Shawnees who, at that moment, were passing within a few feet of him. They dropped noiselessly to the earth, and commenced making their way toward him, as he fell back so unconsciously.

In the meantime, one of those little, active, prying dogs, that are always bobbing around an Indian village, made the same discovery. He ran fearlessly up to the prostrate man, poked his cold nose against his cheek, and gave a loud bark that electrized Jenkins completely. Remembering the parting admonition of Dingle, to "fire and run," in case of discovery, he seized his gun, blazed away at the dog, and turned on his heel.

Even then he might have effected his escape, had it not been for the dog mentioned. The Indians suspecting he was a scout, were taken all aback by the unexpected manner in which he acted, and hesitated so long before following, that, as we said, he might have escaped, had it not been for the dog. The creature was unhurt by his shot, and with a yelp of alarm, sprang in front of him. Jenkins was too confused to notice him, the dog got entangled between his legs, and he pitched headlong to the ground. Before he could rise the Indians were upon him, and yelling with exultation.

"We kill – if fight – no run," muttered one in broken English.

"Jerusalem! I won't run – don't kill me. I won't run at least with you two fellers on my back. Don't kill me!"

"Stand up – quick!"

"Yes, I will – don't kill me!"

One of the savages had already secured his rifle; and, as he arose, one stood on either side of him and took a firm hold of his arms. By this time there were a score of other savages around, all dancing, shouting, and yelling; and in the midst of them our friend Jenkins was marched into the center of the Indian village.

Immediately a score of Shawnees scattered into the wood, to ascertain whether there were any more whites lurking in the vicinity, while Jenkins was hurried into a lodge, thrown upon his face, his hands tied securely behind him, and his feet locked as tightly together, as if they had been screwed in a vice.

"Consarn it! what's the use in serving a feller that way? I told you I wouldn't run away, and you shouldn't doubt my word."

Some eight or nine remained to guard, but no one seemed disposed to heed his request.

"You ugly old heathen, standing there by the door, grinning at me, just loosen these cords, will you?" said Jenkins. The Indian, still paying no attention to his entreaties. Jenkins supposed he did not understand the English language; and he repeated his request in a louder tone, as though that would assist his understanding. But with no better effect. "I don't want the cords loosened – wouldn't have them untied if you wanted to do it," he added, sullenly.

As his captors still evinced no desire to do anything more than watch him, he resigned himself sullenly to his fate, and ceased speaking.

The night wore slowly away without any noticeable change taking place in his condition. Sleep, under the existing circumstances, was out of the question, and Jenkins contented himself – if the expression is allowable – with maintaining a moody silence, varied now and then by a gratuitous insult to those around, which, luckily for him, they failed to comprehend.

While this sleepless guard was being kept upon our unfortunate friend, there was another tribunal, as sleepless and vastly more important to him. In the chieftain's lodge was assembled half a hundred warriors, debating the matter of life or death. It could be hardly said there was a debate upon that either; for all agreed that their victim should die – agreed that he should not only die, but be burned at the stake!

They were considering only when this should be done. It could not be expected there would be a single dissenting voice as to his fate, and there was none. But the question was whether the war-expedition should be deferred by consummating the torture, or whether it should be left over until they returned. It was their intention to start upon the morrow for the settlement which we have so often referred to; and rightly fearing that every hour of delay was a day's gain to their intended victims, it was at last decided that Jenkins should be kept until their return, when he should suffer the awful torture of death by fire. They knew their passions would be inflamed to that pitch that the agonies of their prisoner's torment would be the most exquisite pleasure they could enjoy.

Most fortunate, indeed, for Jenkins was it that the renegade was not present at that council. Had he been, he never would have seen the light of another morning; for he had learned long before that no white prisoner was sure to them until he had been a victim to their vengeance. The renegade had left only a day or two before for the Indian towns in the Sciota valley, and consequently knew nothing of Jenkins' capture.

When the morning dawned, there was great commotion throughout the village. The final preparations were made for the departure of the war-party.

Jenkins heard the confusion and clamor around him, but he was in no mood to care what they were doing. A sort of stolid indifference had succeeded to the excessive fear he had at first evinced.

"Darnation! I don't care what they do! They can burn me and eat me, if they want to! Let 'em blaze away!"

Shortly after daybreak, the war-party departed. About a dozen men remained behind to guard the village, and see that no attempt was made to free the prisoner, while a whole host of squaws and children raised bedlam. The lodge in which Jenkins was confined was completely beset by them. At first his guards allowed them to rush in and torment him in their characteristic manner – such as pulling his hair, pinching, and striking him with sticks. Finally his patience became exhausted.

"By thunder! if you don't take these things off I'll kill every one of them!" he exclaimed, furiously wriggling and tugging at his bonds.

The Indians enjoyed the sport hugely, especially the impotent wrath he displayed. They made no attempt to restrain the excited multitude, until they became so numerous and boisterous, that for their own convenience, they cleared the lodge of the tormentors.

"You'd better done that just then," said the prisoner. "I was just getting ready to knock some of their brains out."

At noon he was given some meat and drink, and he ate ravenously, for his situation seemed to have little effect upon his appetite. His usual fear and subsequent indifference had now given way to a perfect recklessness. Goaded to madness, he cared not a straw what he did. He swore within himself that he would make his escape before morning, though how to effect it wasn't plain even to himself.

His guard maintained their sullen watch until dark, when the clamorous crowd again commenced pressing around. They were restrained from entering, but they continued yelling and pressing against the lodge till, all at once, the side gave way, and fell inward. Those pressing against it were so numerous that they poured irresistibly forward, piling in a mass upon Jenkins, kicking and struggling to free themselves, and making the confusion perfectly horrid by their yells. To make the matter still worse, the sudden incoming of the multitude had extinguished the burning torches, so that all was in total darkness.

Jenkins, feeling the mass upon him, became doubly enraged and made furious efforts to free himself. But the cords were too firm, and he finally gave up in despair.

Immediately he felt some one fingering around him; and to his inexpressible astonishment found the cords at his feet and hands cut, and he was now perfectly free. He lost no time in taking advantage of this providential intercourse of some one. Springing to his feet, he turned to make a dash through the open side of the lodge. At that moment a soft hand touched his, and some one, pulling his head downward, whispered eagerly in his ear:

"Don't stop! run as fast as you can!"

"You may bet I'll do that," he replied, although he scarcely heard his own voice in the deafening uproar around him.

Of course, in the darkness, it was impossible to distinguish the prisoner. When the building crashed inward, two or three savages hurried off for torches, while several more sprang to the opening to intercept his flight, should he attempt it. As they knew his bonds were too firm to be broken, they had little fear of this, but adopted these precautions in obedience to their cautious instincts. But Jenkins avoided them all. He made a spring outward, a literal "leap in the dark," ran a short distance in a straight line, until, as might be expected, he brought up all standing against a lodge that happened to be in his way. There were none inside, for the tumult in the village had drawn them out, and he suffered no injury, except a few scratches. Without stopping to ascertain the damages, he made an abrupt turn to the left, and hurrying onward, found himself, in a few seconds, clear of the town and in the dark wood.

The lights were soon recovered and brought to the lodge from which he had fled. Held in the entrance, they revealed a swarm of dark, struggling bodies, piled pell-mell upon each other. Under the light of the smoking-torches, these regained their feet in an incredible short space of time. Then to the unutterable astonishment of the Shawnees, it was found that the prisoner had escaped.

The Indians stood completely dumbfounded for a moment, totally unable to realize that such was the case. But a Shawnee Indian rarely gives way to his emotions, and when he does, it does not last long. A long, wild, lengthened howl conveyed the dismal intelligence that the white man had fled to the woods.

Now the pursuit and search commenced. Lights were gleaming and flitting through the trees, like frantic fire-flies, and the eager savages were darting and yelling in every direction. Signals were given and returned, and all imaginable artifices adopted.

But a pursuit, under such disadvantages, could hardly be expected to be successful. And it did not prove so in this case. Jenkins knew well how to use his legs, especially when his life depended upon them; and the manner in which he flew through the forest would have made an ordinary Indian despair at once. He had nearly the entire night before him, and he hardly halted for breathing time until morning. The moon arose toward midnight, and so lit up the wood that it would have been exceedingly dangerous for him had his pursuers been anywhere in the vicinity. But they were not, and he had it all to himself.

At morning he was so exhausted that he threw himself upon the ground, at the roots of a fallen tree, and slept heavily. Slept until near the middle of the afternoon, and then he would not have awakened, had not a visitor helped him to recall his wits. He opened his eyes and started with unbounded astonishment at seeing before him that mysterious being known as the Frontier Angel. She stood a few feet away, surveying him with a look of mild joy, and holding in her right hand a rifle which he instantly recognized as his own.

"So you made your escape, did you?" she remarked, seeing that he said nothing.

"Hello! how are you? Glad to see you. How's your folks? Been well?" asked Jenkins, suddenly thinking he had been remiss in his usual politeness. These questions were accompanied by a profound bow and scrape of his foot upon the earth.

The being before him paid no heed to these demonstrations, but repeated her remark:

"So you made your escape, did you?"

"Very well, I thank you, how's your health?"

"You have escaped, I say?"

"Oh! yes, a pleasant day."

The personage paused and looked at him in astonishment. The truth of the matter was, Jenkins was so confused that he did not comprehend a single remark made by her. He continued bowing and scraping and speaking incoherently until, at last, his senses returned. The Frontier Angel merely gazed at him with a wondering expression, in which not a particle of mirth could be seen. Waiting a few moments, she once more repeated her remark.

"Oh – you spoke of escape, did you? Yes, I managed to get away myself."

"Were you not bound?"

"Oh, yes; with tremendous big cords."

"How did you free yourself of them?"

"Broke them all by my giant strength, ma'm," he replied, valiantly.