Red Stripes
From the moment he was made captive near the station on the BigSandy, the Virginian began looking for an opportunity to escape. Hewas ferociously angry at himself for venturing outside the stationagainst the advice of the small garrison. Recently arrived fromRichmond, he had presumed to know more about red men than did theborder people. He had insisted the Indians had abandoned the siegeafter losing three warriors and having two wounded. And within easygunshot of the stockade he had been jumped by the Wyandots andhustled away. His captors were from the Lower Sandusky village.Throughout the journey down the Sandy and up the Ohio to theGuyandotte Crossing he had nursed his resentment against the Indiansand himself. In the back of his mind was the hope he would find anopportunity to break clear before crossing to the Indian shore. Butthe Guyandotte was reached and the Ohio was crossed without a minuteof carelessness on the part of the raiders. At night the Virginianslept as best he could with a rawhide thong around his waist, fromwhich lines were attached to the waist of a warrior on each side. Inaddition to this precaution his feet and hands were tied. When canoeswere abandoned for forest travel his hands were tied at his back andhe was led along by a length of rawhide around his neck. He fell andbruised himself. He was hauled through bushes and was scratched bybriers from head to waist. At times the cord tightened, and he wasall but strangled.
The leader of the Wyandots was a short, thick-set man. Unlike hisfollowers he wore no paint on his face and his countenance wasagreeable and very intelligent. His only attempt at adornment was thered stripe following the backbone from the nape of his neck to hiswaist. All of his men were similarly painted and in addition weregrotesque and frightful because of the patterns masking their faces.The raid had been a failure, and the warriors were in an evil mood.The chief realized that his popularity as a leader would quickly wanedid he encounter one more defeat, yet he treated the prisoner kindlyonce a camp was made. In person he saw to it that the Virginian hadwater and meat. This consideration led the prisoner to believe thatat the worst he would be held in some red village until he could beransomed.
After he reached the Indian shore several ambitious young menremained behind and did not rejoin the band until the evening of thesecond day. They brought in two scalps and one prisoner. The chiefrejoiced greatly. He would be credited with victory by a slightmargin. The horrid proofs of the tragedy were danced with muchenthusiasm that evening.
When he found himself by the prisoner the Virginian asked fordetails.
“We was took by surprize while setting traps for beaver and otter,”the man explained in a monotonous voice. “I’m Abner Bryant. There wasthe three of us, Ben an’ Tom Durgin an’ me. Ben ’lowed he could makea fire-hole in a clump of willers that no Injun could see. Well, boththe Durgins are dead.”
He was a thin, dried-out wisp of a man whose head was thinly frostedby a round number of years. He spoke without emotion, as one who isweary. His acceptance of his capture and the death of his friendssmacked of fatalism. The incident was closed and did not interesthim. However, he was curious enough to inquire—
“Who might you be?”
“Harry Knight. A fool. Knew more’n my elders at the station on the