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Instead of a fruitless defense it was better to save their warriors for another campaign. They could yet regain all that they had lost. There was some truth in Girty's words. Blue Lick and St. Clair's terrible defeat were yet to come, but Clark's blow had destroyed the very nerve-center of the Indian confederacy.
On the way to the Colonel's house Isaac told briefly of his escape from the Wyandots, of his capture by Cornplanter, and of his rescue. He also mentioned the preparations for war he had seen in Cornplanter's camp, and Girty's story of Col. Crawford's death. "How does it come that you have the Indian girl with you?" asked Col. Zane as they left the curious settlers and entered the house.
They had left Girty's trail, but they had crossed several other trails, evidently of bands varying in numbers from twenty to fifty. But all converged on the point which their map showed to be Fort Prescott, and the dangers had thickened greatly. They were now near the Ohio, and the savages swarmed in all the woods before them.
But if you hold out until you are carried by storm I can not save you; for the Indians will have become thirsty for your blood, and no commander on earth could then restrain them. Be not hasty in rejecting my friendly offer. It is for your good I have spoken and so weigh the matter well. I pause for an answer." The effect of Girty's speech upon the garrison, was to alarm them not a little.
She was dazed by this final blow. Having endured so much, this last misfortune, apparently the ruin of her life, brought no added suffering, only a strange, numb feeling. "Ah-huh! Thought you'd give me the slip, eh?" croaked Girty, striding forward, and as he looked at Wingenund his little, yellow eyes flared like flint. "Does a wolf befriend Girty's captives? Chief you hev led me a hard chase."
And the prospect did look encouragingly black in the West, where the American general Wayne was ready waiting south of Lake Erie, while the trade in scalps was unusually brisk. Forty dollars was the regular market price for an ordinary Indian's scalp. But as much as a thousand was offered for Simon Girty's in the hope of getting that inconvenient British scout put quickly out of the way.
"Them side-fins tell us the story. Girty, an' his redskins hev took this branch," said Wetzel, positively. "The other leads to the Huron towns. Girty's got a place near the Delaware camp somewheres. I've tried to find it a good many times. He's took more'n one white lass there, an' nobody ever seen her agin." "Fiend!
"Run acrost yer trail two days back." "And you've been following us?" The hunter nodded. "Did you see anything of another band of Indians? A tall chief and Jim Girty were among them." "They've been arter me fer two days. I was followin' you when Silvertip got wind of Girty an' his Delawares. The big chief was Wingenund. I seen you pull Girty's nose.
The speech was listened to in silence, and some of the chiefs were disposed to grant Girty's request.
With a terrible fascination he watched that quivering, dripping blade, now poised high. Wetzel's arm swung with the speed of a shooting star. He drove the blade into Girty's groin, through flesh and bone, hard and fast into the tree. He nailed the renegade to the beech, there to await his lingering doom. "Ah-h! Ah-h! Ah-h!" shrieked Girty, in cries of agony.
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