James Otis - On the Kentucky Frontier - A Story of the Fighting Pioneers of the West

"It can't be that he will succeed while so many keen eyes are close at hand. It is only reasonable to suppose all the crew are near about the captives, therefore how may one man prevail against them?"

"If it be the Lord's will, there need be no counting the odds," and having said this, mother knelt by the side of the table, while I, somewhat recovered from my fear and bewilderment, went to the loophole in the door that I might keep the captives in view so far as the darkness permitted.

It was not yet night, although the gloom of the forest was so dense that one could not distinguish objects very far away.

Simon Kenton had ventured out at that time when the gray of twilight distorts everything, causing even the most familiar features of the landscape to appear weird, and in so doing he had shown much wisdom.

An hour later the Indians would have drawn closer to the cabin, suspecting we might make an attempt to escape under cover of darkness, and an hour earlier the light of day cut off any hope of getting out unseen.

Calculating the time to a nicety, moving swiftly as but few could move, he had left the cabin without alarming the wary foe, and thus far his success was so great as to astonish me.

I could yet barely distinguish the forms of the unhappy prisoners, and, moving to and fro near them like evil things, were shadow-like figures which I knew to be Indians.

As a matter of course it was impossible for me to see the faces of these two over whom hovered a most cruel death; but I could well imagine the expression of despair on their faces.

They could not fail to understand that it was worse than vain to hope aid would come in the hour of their extremity, and yet I doubt not they tried to encourage themselves by saying it was possible a party of white men might pass that way before the horrible orgy should be begun.

While gazing through the loophole, my mother remaining on her knees praying fervently, I said again and again to myself that Simon Kenton could do nothing single-handed against that mob of murdering brutes. In fact, now he was outside the house all the chances were against my ever seeing him again. It was hardly within the range of probability he could save his own life if he made even the slightest effort to rescue the prisoners.

The shadows of night gathered rapidly, and yet it seemed as if each second was a full minute in length. I was in that agonizing frame of mind where one is raised by hope and buried under despair at the same instant.

Although my ears were strained to catch the lightest sound, I heard nothing save the rustling of the foliage as it was stirred by the gentle night wind. If Simon Kenton was attempting to approach the prisoners, he must have made a detour through the thicket to avoid the savages who undoubtedly kept close watch over the cabin lest we unfortunate ones should give them the slip.

After a time, and it was impossible for me to decide whether I had remained on watch one hour or two, a tiny gleam of light could be seen in the direction where I knew the prisoners were stationed, and as it increased in size I understood that the brutes were making ready for their horrible sport.

The flame grew brighter and brighter until I could distinguish the forms of the helpless ones, with dark figures flitting between my line of vision and the fire, and I mentally joined my mother in her prayer for the relief of those whom I believed were beyond all earthly aid.

As I knew the savages had done many times before, so they were about to do now – torture us at the same time they inflicted death on their prisoners.

We were to be shown what would speedily be our own fate.

While I stood there helplessly watching the horrible preparations, a certain frenzy of rage took possession of me, and I no longer gave heed to anything save a desire to bring death upon some of that fiendish crew before they began the work of torture.

"I cannot stay here longer, mother!" I exclaimed suddenly. "If Simon Kenton risks his life to aid those who are strangers to him, why should I not be as brave? Alone he cannot hope to effect a rescue, and will surely perish. With one other to help him, that which now seems impossible may be compassed."

As I think of the scene now, the wonder is that my dear mother did not remind me of what would be her fate if both Kenton and I were captured; but the brave woman gave no heed to herself, nor to her love for me.

Looking up while still remaining on her knees, she said softly:

"If you believe it your duty, my son, go, and may the good God grant that you come back to me alive!"

These were not exactly the kind of words best calculated to give a lad courage, and I realized that by listening to her many seconds I should become cowardly. Even as I stood by her side my determination grew fainter; in five minutes more timorousness might overcome me.

"I will leave the cabin as he did, mother, and you shall stand at the door ready to give us entrance, if it so be we come back."

Mother rose quickly to her feet; kissed me fervently, and then, without delay, as if understanding that it was not well to prolong the parting, began to unbar the shutter.

In a twinkling I had put on powder horn and pouch; looked well to my rifle, and was ready to follow Simon Kenton in his desperate venture.

The shutter was open. Not daring to look back, I sprang out, believing as I did so that the report of a rifle would be my death knell; but no sound came.

The savages, thinking we were securely caged, had gathered around the prisoners in readiness to begin the terrible work, and I was free to rush on to my own doom.

While believing there was little chance I should succeed in saving my own life, I was not careless.

Moving onward stealthily; stopping at each yard of distance to learn if one of the foe might be near at hand, I pressed forward in a circle, counting on coming within view of the prisoners at a point midway between the cabin and that fork in the path which led to the riverside.

Each instant I expected to come upon Simon Kenton, and as the moments went by I began to understand that if he heard me approaching from the rear he might leap upon me, believing one of the savages was creeping upon him, and such realization caused me to hope it would be possible to avoid him.

It was a strange situation, this being equally afraid of friend and foe, and could have been in a certain degree avoided if I had but accompanied the young scout.

Nothing interfered with my progress, however, until I was arrived at the point for which I had been aiming, and saw full before me the preparations for the torture.

Two fires had been built ten or twelve yards distant from the prisoners, evidently for purposes of illumination, and at the feet of the unfortunate ones was heaped a quantity of dry wood, which would be kindled into a flame when the first portion of the terrible work had been concluded.

Now the savages were making ready for the dance around their victims, and I saw fourteen of the painted brutes, hideous in feathers, beads and gaudy coloring.

To describe that which followed immediately after I had a view of the scene, would be impossible. The fiends were alternately advancing toward the prisoners, and retreating, moving with a certain measured step, and brandishing weapons in the faces of the two who were helpless.

The lad seemed literally frozen with terror; but the man faced his cruel enemies as if defying them to wring a cry of pain from his compressed lips.

Perhaps five minutes passed while I thus remained motionless in the thicket within half a rifle-shot distance, and then one of the murderous brutes approached the boy knife in hand.

I knew the poor lad was to be maimed in some manner. The same blinding rush of rage which had come upon me while I was in the cabin, overpowered all sense of danger.