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Updated: May 21, 2025
I did remain stationary that brief space, listening with agonized uncertainty, while the Indian entered the hut, and returned, bringing out his rifle and my own. Arming ourselves, and shutting the door of the cabin, to exclude the night-air, at least, Susquesus led off, with his noiseless step, in a south-west direction, or that in which we had heard the sound.
"Painted tree there," said Susquesus, pointing a little scornfully at the map, as it seemed to me. "Pale-face can't find him in wood. Live tree out younder; Injin know." Trackless pointed with great dignity towards the north east, standing motionless as a statue the while, as if inviting the closest possible scrutiny into the correctness of his assertion.
Susquesus examined the trails, and the bodies, and gave it as his opinion that the surveyor and chain-bearers might have been killed about three or four hours; and that the murderers, for such, in our eyes, they who had done the foul deed were to be accounted, had not been away from the place more than twenty minutes, when we arrived.
This was favourable to reconnoitring, however, previously to quitting our concealment, and enabled us to have some care of ourselves while attending to the duties of humanity. Susquesus used the greatest caution in looking around before he left the cover.
Susquesus proceeded a short distance from the hut, quitting the knoll entirely, until he reached lower land, where a foot-print would be most likely to be visible, when he commenced a slow circuit of the place, with eyes fastened on the earth, as the nose of the hound follows the scent.
Had red-skin opinions been taken, Abercrombie might now have been a conqueror, instead of a miserable, beaten man." Susquesus raised a finger, and his dark countenance became illumined by an expression that was more eloquent even than his tongue. "Why no open ear to red-man!" he asked, with dignity. "Some bird sing a song that good some sing bad song but all bird know his own song.
"A canoe! By St. Nicholas! Mr. Susquesus, I'll tell you what it is you shall never want a friend as long as Guert Ten Eyek is living, and able to assist you. That idea of the canoe is a most thoughtful one, and shows that a reasoning man has had the care of us. We can now join the troops, with the rifles in our hand, as becomes gentlemen and volunteers."
This Indian was about six-and-twenty years of age, and was called a Mohawk, living with the people of that tribe; though, I subsequently ascertained that he was, in fact, an Onondago by birth. His true name was Susquesus, or Crooked Turns; an appellation that might or might not speak well of his character, as the Turns' were regarded in a moral, or in a physical sense. "Take that man, Mr.
It required nothing less than a thunderbolt to disturb the composure of that Onondago! From that moment our progress was as swift as it had been previously to the halt; while our course was seemingly as unerring as the flight of the pigeon. Susquesus did not steer exactly north-west, as before, however, but he inclined more northerly.
Surprise and awe were so strong in me, that I did not speak, but pointed with a finger eagerly in the necessary direction, in order to let the Onondago see the same object too. Susquesus was not slow in detecting the stranger, however; for I think he must have seen him, even before he was descried by myself.
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