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He was the leader of the Mission; he knew more of Indian craft than any of them, and how to meet it. If this calm in the heretofore busy life of the Mission was the lull before a storm, Heckewelder should be there with his experience and influence. "For nearly ten years Heckewelder has anticipated trouble from hostile savages," said Edwards, "but so far he has always averted it.
This was the answer of the savage allies to the flag of truce. In May, 1792, General Rufus Putnam, of Ohio, and the Reverend John Heckewelder, of the Moravian missions, were sent to the Wabash tribes to make a treaty. The instructions to Putman were of the most pacific nature.
"Listen, Heckewelder, you must remember we had this to go through once before," put in Zeisberger earnestly. "In '78 Girty came down on us like a wolf on the fold. He had not so many Indians at his beck and call as now; but he harangued for days, trying to scare us and our handful of Christians. He set his drunken fiends to frighten us, and he failed. We stuck it out and won.
At this juncture Mr. Wells and Heckewelder came out of the adjoining cabin. "I had word from a trustworthy runner to-day. Girty and his captives have not been seen in the Delaware towns," said Heckewelder. "It is most unlikely that he will take them to the towns," replied Edwards. "What do you make of his capturing Jim?" "For Pipe, perhaps. The Delaware Wolf is snapping his teeth.
Christy stood by with every evidence of sympathy for this distracted group. Outside the clamor increased. "Just listen!" cried Heckewelder. "Did you ever hear the like? All drunk, crazy, fiendish! They drank every drop of liquor the French traders had. Curses on the vagabond dealers! Rum has made these renegades and savages wild. Oh! my poor, innocent Christians!"
He's running. Follow him, quick! Good-by! Good-by! God be with you!" cried Heckewelder. "Good-by! Good-by!" Jim hurried Nell toward the bushes where Wingenund's tall form could dimly be seen. Mr. Wells followed them. On the edge of the clearing Jim and Nell turned to look back. They saw a black mass of yelling, struggling, fighting savages crowding around the church. "Oh! Jim, look back!
The few thousands who had escaped the British are collecting at Fort Pitt to steal the Indian's land." Heckewelder vigorously denied all these assertions, knowing they had been invented by Girty and Elliott. He exhausted all his skill and patience in the vain endeavor to show Pipe where he was wrong. Half King had been so well coached by the renegades that he refused to listen.
Nell's eyes quickened with a puzzled, questioning doubt. The minister's magnetic, penetrating voice had pierced her dulled brain. "See, I have brought you Jim!" Heckewelder stepped aside as Jim fell on his knees by the bed. He took her cold hands in his and bent over her. For the moment his voice failed. The doubt in Nell's eyes changed to a wondrous gladness.
Stern, dark visages of men and the sweet, submissive faces of women were uplifted with rapt attention. A light seemed to shine from these faces as if the contemplation of God had illumined them. As Zeisberger and Jim left the church and hurried toward the cabins, they saw the crowd of savages in a black mass round Girty's teepee. The yelling and leaping had ceased. Heckewelder opened the door.
Much confusion has arisen from the great variety of names applied without discrimination to the various tribes of Saulteurs and Crees. Heckewelder considers the Crees of Moose Factory to be a branch of that tribe of the Lenape which is named Minsi, or Wolf Tribe.
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