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Updated: June 20, 2025
How he leaps! How he waves his sledge! He leads the savages toward the church. Oh! it's the end!" "Benny? Where's Benny?" cried Jim, hurriedly lacing the hunting coat he had flung about him. "Benny's safe. I've hidden him. I'll get him away from here," answered young Christy. "Go! Now's your time. Godspeed you!" "I'm ready," declared Mr. Wells. "I have finished!" "There goes Wingenund!
Colonel Crawford was obdurate and insisted on resuming the march into the Indian country. The next day we met the Indians coming directly toward us. It was the combined force of the Delaware chiefs, Pipe and Wingenund. The battle had hardly commenced when the redskins were reinforced by four hundred warriors under Shanshota, the Huron chief.
A plaintive murmur, remarkable when coming from an assembly of stern-browed chiefs, ran round the circle at the mention of the dread appellation. "The white father is free," continued Wingenund. "Let one of my runners conduct him to the Village of Peace." A brave entered and touched Jim on the shoulder. Jim shook his head and pointed to Joe. The runner touched Joe. "No, no.
I am not the missionary," cried Joe, staring aghast at his brother. "Jim, have you lost your senses?" Jim sadly shook his head, and turning to Wingenund made known in a broken Indian dialect that his brother was the missionary, and would sacrifice himself, taking this opportunity to practice the Christianity he had taught.
Evidently he had watched for them. "Jim! Jim!" cried Nell, when he entered the cabin. "Oh-h! I was afraid. Oh! I am glad you're back safe. See, this noble Indian has come to help us." Wingenund stood calm and erect by the door. "Chief, what will you do?" "Wingenund will show you the way to the big river," answered the chieftain, in his deep bass. "Run away? No, never! That would be cowardly.
Joe saw two velvety eyes dark with timid fear, yet veiling in their lustrous depths an unuttered hope and love. "Whispering Winds save paleface," she said, in a voice low and tremulous. "Fear father. Fear tell Wingenund she Christian." Indian summer, that enchanted time, unfolded its golden, dreamy haze over the Delaware village.
"How so, Captain Wingenund?" asked Crawford. "By joining yourself to that execrable man, Williamson; the man who but the other day murdered such a number of Moravian Indians, knowing them to be friends; knowing that he ran no risk in murdering a people who would not fight, and whose only business was praying."
Did you escape? Did you see your brother? Did you know Wetzel rescued Nell?" "Wingenund set me free in spite of many demands for my death. He kept Joe a prisoner, and intends to kill him, for the lad was Wetzel's companion. I saw the hunter come into the glade where we camped, break through the line of fighting Indians and carry Nell off." "Kate?" faltered Young, with ashen face.
"Indian, we can go no further to-night, we must rest," cried Jim, as Nell stumbled against him, and Mr. Wells panted wearily in the rear. "Rest soon," replied the chief, and kept on. Darkness had settled down when Wingenund at last halted. The fugitives could see little in the gloom, but they heard the music of running water, and felt soft moss beneath their feet.
Wingenund deigned no reply. He stood as he did so often, still and silent, with folded arms, and a look that was haughty, unresponsive. The Indians came forward into the glade, and one of them quickly bound Jim's hands behind his back. The savages wore a wild, brutish look. A feverish ferocity, very near akin to insanity, possessed them.
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