USA > Tennessee > Old tales retold; or, Perils and adventures of Tennessee pioneers > Part 4
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Altogether the feast was progressing happily. Not an offensive word had been said, not an unkind glance given, until a rowdy named Crabtree, who had ridden down from the Wolf Hills of Virginia to see the sports, wantonly picked a quarrel with a bright young Cher- okee chief who was a general favorite with the white people. Everywhere else on the grounds the settlers were in the highest spirits, pleased that they had been able so far to keep the Indians in a good humor. In every place the white men and the red were innocently enjoying themselves together, when bang! went a rifle from the edge of the forest that bordered the "old fields." For a moment Indians and whites stood still. Then, with one accord, all rushed to the spot where lay the harmless young chief stretched dead upon the ground. His murderer, Crabtree, had escaped into the woods. The Wataugans were distressed at the cruel deed. As to the Cherokees, they were too angry to speak. Oconostota and his warriors, all silent and
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Old Tales Retold.
sullen, stood looking on the dead Indian. Words were not needed to tell that they were deeply offended. Their faces said plainly enough what was in their thoughts: "We trusted these Watauga people. We traded with them and ate of their feast; and because our weapons were left behind in our wigwams on the Tellico and the Hiwassee, they have dared to insult us."
The Cherokees believed that unless they avenged the death of one of their tribe they would themselves forfeit the right to enter the happy hunting grounds after death. Robertson knew that their first idea would be to retaliate. His thick crown of dark hair was bent low while he pondered what to say to appease the savages. Then his candid blue eyes were lifted ap- pealingly to Oconostota's face as he tried to explain that his people had nothing to do with the murder. But the Cherokee leader turned a deaf ear to all apol- ogies. Neither he nor his followers made any reply to Robertson's explanations. Frowning and sulking, the six hundred warriors mounted in haste, taking care, however, to gather up every bale of red calico, every strand of Stroud beads, and all the other goods and ammunition they had gained in the trade before they left in a huff. Without a gesture of farewell, the an- gry host filed into a buffalo path that led to the Great War Trail, and away they galloped, as hard as they could go, southward to the Cherokee over-hill towns.
"What shall we do?" asked the people in dismay as they heard the last hoof beat die away in the distance. "The savages have gone to arm themselves. They will return in great numbers and murder us outright. James Robertson's only answer was to say calmly:
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The Interrupted Feast.
"God is on our side. We will not fear. Mightier is he that is for us than all who can come against us."
But the settlers refused to be comforted. In their fear and excitement all sorts of plans for safety were made. Some were for moving at once to Virginia. Others suggested the building of a log fort at once in Watauga. In the midst of these discussions James Robertson surprised them all by saying: "I will go myself to Echota, the sacred or beloved town of the Cherokees, and treat for peace." At which there was great rejoicing among the people, who believed that he could do whatever he undertook. But the good man's best friends were shocked at his resolve. "It is mad- ness !" they cried. "Echota is one hundred and fifty miles away. You will surely never come out of the town alive, even if you are not murdered in going through the forest and reach Echota in safety."
Robertson, who had made up his mind to go, an- swered firmly: "Peril to my one life is nothing com- pared to the danger to five hundred men, women, and children."
In a few days, while John Sevier and others had set to work to build a fort, Robertson was off on the great trail, traveling southward. Many tracks of un- shod horses and prints of moccasined feet showed where the angry warriors had lately passed along. While following their trail he thought how easily an enemy lurking in the bushes might send an arrow through his heart. That moment he heard hoof beats on the soft path ahead. Riding cautiously to the next turn in the road, he halted, for there rode a tall, wiry- looking horseman in Indian costume, strong and well- armed, coming toward him. The stranger stopped
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short, and the two glared at each other with hands on their guns. Then the tall, wiry man galloped for- ward as with a soft laugh he exclaimed: "The head man of Watauga, by all that's lucky!" The weather- beaten, sunburned white man Robertson had mistaken for an Indian was his good friend, Isaac Thomas, the trader who carried skins and merchandise to and fro between the Indian towns and Williamsburg, Va.
"I bear a message to you from the niece of the vice king, Atta Culla-Culla, who is the beloved woman of the Cherokees," said the trader. Explaining further, he said that Nancy Ward, the beloved or beautiful woman, was the Cherokee prophetess, through whose lips the nation believed their guardian spirit spoke to them. He described her as a handsome, half-breed Indian princess, about thirty-five years of age, with a majestic appearance and great benevolence of heart. "When the chiefs came back from Watauga Old Fields bent on war," proceeded the trader, "the beloved wom- an spoke for peace. But in their fury the warriors refused to obey the Voice. Then the prophetess sent me to you, saying: 'Go warn the head men of Wa- tauga. The braves will soon be on the warpath to slay all who are in their way.'" Having delivered this message, Isaac Thomas begged Robertson to turn round and go back; "for," said he, "you will be killed on sight."
The brave pioneer, unmoved by this appeal, was as determined as ever to see Oconostota and try to ap- pease his anger. "Then I will go with you," said Thomas, "for without me you will surely be killed." Assuring Robertson that a trader was a person of importance among Indians, he said: "I live safely in
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The Interrupted Feast.
Echota even in time of war. No Cherokee would be foolish enough to harm the man who brings them all kinds of merchandise in exchange for peltries."
As they journeyed together, Isaac Thomas informed Robertson of many interesting facts concerning the Cherokees and their customs which it was well for him to know. Among other things, he said that in the hands of the half-breed princess-prophet Nancy Ward lay the power of life or death over prisoners or con- demned criminals. One evening at nightfall the trav- elers saw the fires of Echota, far off, scattered along both banks of the Little Tennessee River. A little nearer, and they met an Indian whom Thomas sent ahead as a messenger to ask permission for Robertson to enter the "Sacred Town." Here they waited until the messenger returned, saying : "Oconostota is willing for the head man of Watauga to come in."
James Robertson, sitting in the doorway of the trader's cabin next morning, counted eleven hundred chiefs under the oaks and elms that shaded the long street. War paint of blue, black, and yellow streaked the vermilion dye on their faces, newly sharpened knives were in their belts, and quivers full of arrows hung at their backs, showing that they were ready to start on the warpath.
About noon the white man was ordered to appear in the council house. With many misgivings Isaac Thomas watched him go along the avenue to meet his enemies alone. As for James Robertson, he was only thinking of what he should say to secure peace for his people. Without a tremor he lifted the buffalo hide which curtained the doorway. Letting it fall be- hind him, he stood in the great, gloomy round building.
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Old Tales Retold.
There were no windows in the walls ; there was merely a hole in the center of the roof to show him where the king sat on a raised seat near the middle of the apart- ment. The war robe of buff-colored buffalo skin, em- broidered with brightly dyed porcupine quills, reached to Oconostota's feet. Wisps of red horsehair were tied above his elbows, and tails of small animals were at the heels of his moccasins. Beside him sat the be- loved woman and Culla-Culla, the vice king, sur- rounded by a few chosen chiefs. A dim circle of less noted warriors could be seen in the dusky outskirts of the room, on low benches around the walls. The man from Watauga looked on them steadfastly without a sign of fear.
For a while there was dead silence. Without speak- ing a word, the lesser chiefs came gliding from the outer circle and crowded about the visitor. They peeped curiously into his face, as if to read the thoughts of the brave soul. He showed not a trace of alarm, nor could they find out the secret of his courage. Robertson waited calmly until the baffled chiefs had all gone back to their places. Then he said quietly: "The people of Watauga are sorry for what has happened. They view the horrid deed with keen- est indignation. Your warrior was not killed by one of our people. The murderer has escaped, but the men of Watauga will surely catch him and punish him as he deserves."
This and much more Robertson said in his quiet, persuasive voice, while the warriors listened silently. To them it was a strange thing that he was saying, for Indians never punished members of their tribe who committed outrages on whites. At first they heard
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The Interrupted Feast.
him with incredulous lines around their set lips, but the more he talked the gentler their faces grew, until at last many of them were actually smiling, and the beloved woman ventured to say softly: "The Good Spirit is on our white brother's side."
Then Oconostota also began to relent. Appealing to his braves, he said: "What say my brothers; are not the white man's words good?" Lifting their voices as if under the influence of a spell, all the braves answered at once : "They are good."
Only a few moments before and the savages had been ready to tear Robertson to pieces where he stood, but now they flocked around him and begged him to stay a few days in Echota and make them a friendly visit. The children of the forest had actually fallen in love with the civilized man from the settlement. Oconostota, no less than the others, felt the charm of Robertson's manner, and condescended to say of him : "He has winning ways, and tells no lies."
Advised by Isaac Thomas, James Robertson agreed to remain a few days longer in Echota. He was treated with distinction by Oconostota, and secured from the chief a confirmation of the lease of eight years to the Watauga lands. During his stay with the Cherokees their visitor learned to respect them for their rectitude in regard to social and moral conduct, and to like them as a cheerful, happy people when not engaged in war.
On the other hand, in his interviews with the prin- cess-prophetess, Nancy Ward, he impressed her that he belonged to a superior race of beings who were under the protection of the "Great Good Spirit," and so fully won her confidence that she made him a sol-
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Old Tales Retold.
emn promise always in the future to befriend him and his people. Having thus saved the Watauga settle- ment from attack and secured its safety for some time to come, the good head man returned to his people in peace.
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V. A SNAKE IN THE GRASS.
IT was a dark night in July, 1776. The inhabitants of the Indian village on the Little Tennessee River were sound asleep. There was no sign of any one stirring. The one straggling street of Echota was absolutely quiet until near midnight, when a muffled figure stole cautiously out of a wigwam unlike the rest, built of upright poles curiously wound with skins of wild beasts. It was the mystery lodge of the beloved woman, the princess-prophetess of the Cherokees. The silent form, blanketed from head to foot, paused out- side the curious lodge and stood for a moment be- side the great totem pole listening attentively. Not the slightest noise could be heard up and down the double row of wigwams. Again the figure moved ; this time gliding swiftly through the blackness of the night straight to the cabin of Isaac Thomas, the white trader who brought merchandise to the Indians from Williamsburg, Va., and carried back peltries on his pack horses to the Virginia markets. There was a gentle tap upon his door. Though the sound was faint and he was asleep, the alert frontiersman was aroused. Instantly he was on his feet asking: "Who is there?"
He could scarcely hear the whispered answer, "It is the white man's friend;" yet he knew the voice, It was his faithful friend, Nancy Ward. He hastened
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to unlatch the door, divining at once that some danger to the white settlements had brought her to him at that hour; for the beloved woman had never yet broken her promise to befriend the white people who lived west of the Unaka Mountains-a promise she had made to James Robertson, and had kept for his sake and the sake of John Sevier, both of whom she respected and admired above all other men. Isaac Thomas was not surprised, then, to hear her say: "I bring my white brother evil news. The braves are pre- paring to go on the warpath. The women are beating corn into meal for the march. The warriors intend to kill every white man, woman, and child in their path. They will destroy every house, burn all the corn, carry off negroes and horses, and kill all the cattle on the Watauga and Nollichucky Rivers and in Carter's Val- ley." The prophetess stopped to listen, with her finger on her lip, before she ventured to continue: "The Ra- ven is bringing his Ayrati braves from the middle towns and Dragging Canoe is on the way with his Chickamaugas from the lower towns of the nation."
This was startling news, for the trader did not doubt that the prophetess was correctly informed. She was always admitted to the secret councils of the chiefs of the tribe, and nothing was done without her knowl- edge. Yet, Thomas knew of no cause for anger be- tween the Cherokees and the whites who lived west of the mountains. The Wataugans, especially, had never been known to wrong an Indian. Oconostota himself had never accused James Robertson or John Sevier of cheating. The trader could not understand the reason for these sudden preparations for war until the be- loved woman informed him that King George's In-
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A Snake in the Grass.
· dian agent, Alexander Cameron, was in Echota in secret consultation with the principal chiefs, trying to stir up the savages against the frontier people, who had taken sides against England in the war for inde- pendence.
On questioning the prophetess more closely, Thom- as learned that the plan of the warriors was to march out of Echota all together, and go for some distance along the great war trail which led from the lower Indian towns up through what we now call East Ten- nessee to Virginia. Then they were to separate into three divisions, to spread out like a fan in several di- rections, and winnow the whole country. One division was to be led by the Raven, another by Dragging Ca- noe, and still another by Oconostota himself, the king of all the Cherokees. The army under Oconostota was selected to storm Fort Lee, on the Watauga, which had been built by John Sevier, and which was com- manded by James Robertson.
"Tell my white brothers to be vigilant," said the beloved woman. "Go warn James Robertson, the head man of Watauga. Tell him to be well prepared. The bolt will fall soon, and at midnight. Tell him that Oconostota's army will come secretly. It will crawl like a snake in the grass, and suddenly it will strike."
Isaac Thomas realized that no time was to be lost. Promising to start on his mission as soon as he could get away unobserved, he begged the prophetess to keep watch in the meantime and listen closely. "Re- port to me every word you hear," he said, "before I go to warn the head man of Watauga." He made an excuse to leave the Indian country at once, and was
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soon among his white friends. The news he brought aroused the whole country.
The various settlements being promptly notified, the leaders met together to plan their defense. Hurried preparations were made to meet the Indians in battle. Men rode in haste in every direction to warn farmers who were scattered along the rivers and in Carter's Valley. As soon as the danger was known, many families took their cattle and their servants and fled along the great trail up to their kindred and friends in Southern Virginia. Others sought refuge in the stockades, rude fortresses that had been built here and there by the pioneers of East Tennessee as a protection against Indian raids. The stockade or log fort in Watauga, called Fort Lee, was soon full to overflowing with women, children, and household goods, whereas there were only about forty soldiers to defend the place. Its heavy double gates were kept chained and barred day and night, and the people stayed strictly inside for fear of an attack. They could not feel safe elsewhere than behind the tall picket fences which, by connecting a number of log houses in the form of a hollow square, formed the walls of the fort.
No man was more earnest in urging the people to seek shelter in the stockade than Captain William Bean, the same William Bean who had been the ear- liest settler in Watauga. He went everywhere advis- ing heads of families to lose no time in getting their children within the palisades; and he had not much trouble in persuading them, except in the case of his own wife. All seemed eager to have the protection of the fort except Mrs. Bean. She could not be in- duced to leave her home. The good woman saw no
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A Snake in the Grass.
necessity for such a move. In the kindness of her heart, Mrs. Bean thought all the world as just as her- self. She refused to believe that even an Indian would do her an unprovoked injury. They had many times been to her house and tasted of her nice butter and cheese, for which she was famous, She had always been the wayfarer's friend. Neither white man nor red had ever been turned away hungry from her door. It was hard for her to realize that any one would wish to harm her. So the kind soul made up her mind to stay in her house and take care of her simple possessions. She saw terrified people pass her gate from day to day leading pack horses piled with a con- fusion of household goods, and driving their cattle before them, yet she was unmoved in her resolution to stay at home. Quite undisturbed, she calmly · at- tended, as usual, to her cows and poultry while others were crowding into the fort.
In the meantime, the Indian army was crawling like a snake in the grass toward Watauga, though it was creeping very, very slowly. Many days of suspense passed over the heads of the people in the fort. Some began to doubt if the savages were coming at all. One day the good news reached Fort Lee that a battle had been fought between the Indians under Dragging Canoe and the white settlers at a place called Island Flats, in which the savages had been completely routed. It was now thought that all danger was over, espe- cially as the Chickamauga chief, who was noted for ferocity, had been severely wounded in the fight. On hearing of the success of the whites, John Sevier ex- claimed exultantly, "A great day's work in the woods !" ' and his soldiers joined in demonstrations of joy.
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At that moment Oconostota's warriors from the over-hill towns were moving northward. Trooping along the war trail, they were killing and burning as they went. Directly in their path lay William Bean's cabin. Inside was Mrs. Bean attending to her domes- tic duties. A band of Indian scouts in advance of the army, looking in, saw her, and walked through the open doorway. Mrs. Bean felt no fear at finding herself suddenly surrounded by savages. It was the custom of the red men, as she knew, to enter the set- tlers' homes without knocking, whenever it pleased them to do so. She was not at all alarmed when they first crowded about ; but when her hands were roughly jerked backward and tied behind her with a stout leath- er thong, the unhappy creature fully realized her dan- ger. Placed between two warriors, she was dragged back to the Indian camp and brought before Oco- nostota. The chief scowled forbiddingly at the pris- oner. "O, why do you mistreat me?" she cried pit- eously; "have I not often fed your famished war- riors and given them shelter from the storm?" A speech which only angered an Indian standing near the king, who leveled his gun and rushed toward her to fire. But Oconostota, wishing to question the cap- tive, stepped between them and with his sinewy arm threw up the warrior's weapon. Through his inter- preter the Cherokee king then asked Mrs. Bean the question : "How many forts have the white people ?".
"More than can be remembered," was the quick- witted reply.
"How many soldiers are in each of them?"
"Their number is as the number of the leaves of the trees," answered Mrs. Bean.
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A Snake in the Grass.
"Can they be starved out?" she was asked next.
"They have corn enough to last a long time," she said; and added significantly, "Four moons ago Cap- tain Sevier received a large supply of ammunition from Virginia."
Something in the brave woman's answers, or else his own plans, determined Oconostota not to have Mrs. Bean killed at once. He preferred to take her to Echota and have her teach the squaws how to make butter and cheese and other good things to eat. With this intention the prisoner was kept unharmed, though she was strictly guarded in camp while the army pushed on to attack Fort Lee. On nearing the place the army paused. The serpent was now coiling ready to strike.
At this critical time the white people, grown careless with long waiting, were somewhat off their guard. Quite early the next morning a party of women and maidens ventured outside the walls to the milking place. Among them was Catherine Sherrill, a beau- tiful girl, who had been tempted by the wild flowers to go farther into the woods than the rest. All were care-free and happy in breathing the morning air, without a thought of danger near, until a loud war- whoop resounded through the forest. At once they knew that Oconostota's army was upon them. With startled screams the women rushed back into the fort and pulled the gates to behind them. Bars and chains quickly made them secure. All were safe inside-all but one. Catherine Sherrill had been left behind. At a glance she saw that several Indians were already between her and the closed gates. Quick as thought she darted aside toward another part of the fort. Un-
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fortunately, the savages spied her and gave chase Hundreds of warriors in the edge of the woods were yelling as they watched the race. Terror lent wings to Catherine's nimble feet. She must depend for safe- ty upon her speed alone. . The forty defenders of the fort were too few to risk a sally in her favor, though they looked on anxiously while the girl ran for her life, until finally John Sevier, unable longer to with- stand his impulse, sprang to the gate. Drawing his sword, he called to his comrades: "Out to the rescue. Follow me !"
A moment more and the daring men would have dashed through the gates in face of the great number of Indians to save the young woman, had not James Robertson, the cautious commander, placed a hand upon the rash young officer's sword arm, crying : "Stop! The lives of all must not be risked for the sake of one." Turning to the men, he sternly ordered them : "Back to the portholes."
In obedience to Robertson's wise commands the gar- rison was forced to be inactive witnesses of Catherine Sherrill's danger. Now they see her near to the stockade, with the Indians pursuing close behind. Now their hearts quicken as she touches the palisades and begins to clamber up the tall pickets. The athletic savages are making long strides to reach the girl. One is almost close enough to grasp her skirts as she climbs. The people in the fort hold their breath until, with the lightness of a fawn, she bounds over the sharp-pointed top and falls on the inner side into the extended arms of John Sevier. "My brave girl! My bonny Kate!" he impulsively cries, while the others shout aloud their delight and applause. They possi-
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A Snake in the Grass.
bly saw in their mind's eye the wedding that was to take place later between the gallant soldier and his "Bonny Kate."
After this the battle began in earnest. Arrows rat- tled like hail upon the roof. Bullets rained around the portholes. Hundreds of savages were swarming around the stockade on all sides at once, hoping to find some weak point in the defense. But the thick- ness of the walls, the height of the palisades, and Robertson's watchful eyes served to keep Oconostota's warriors out, no matter where or how they attacked Fort Lee. Again and again, for six successive days, · the Cherokees tried to enter. Still the fort held out, and still, owing to Robertson's prudent instructions to his followers, not a white person had been hurt. "Reserve your fire," he repeatedly said. "Don't waste your powder. Wait till you are sure of your man each time before you shoot." By this means it hap- pened that no rifle was fired from the ports without either wounding or killing one of the assailants.
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