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"Where is she?"
"Back there in the woods."
"Mebbe it's as well. Now, don't git so drunk you'll blab all you know. We've
lots of work to do without havin' to clean up Williamson's bunch," rejoined
Girty. "Bill, tie up the tent flaps an' we'll git to council."
Elliott arose to carry out the order, and had pulled in the deer-hide flaps,
when one of them was jerked outward to disclose the befrilled person of Jim
Girty. Except for a discoloration over his eye, he appeared as usual.
"Ugh!" grunted Pipe, who was glad to see his renegade friend.
Half King evinced the same feeling.
"Hullo," was Simon Girty's greeting.
"'Pears I'm on time fer the picnic," said Jim Girty, with his ghastly leer.
Bill Elliott closed the flaps, after giving orders to the guard to prevent
any Indians from loitering near the teepee.
"Listen," said Simon Girty, speaking low in the Delaware language. "The time
is ripe. We have come here to break forever the influence of the white man's
religion. Our councils have been held; we shall drive away the missionaries,
and burn the Village of Peace."
He paused, leaning forward in his exceeding earnestness, with his bronzed
face lined by swelling veins, his whole person made rigid by the murderous
thought. The he hissed between his teeth: "What shall we do with these
Christian Indians?"
Pipe raised his war-club, struck it upon the ground; then handed it to Half
King.
Half King took the club and repeated the action.
Both chiefs favored the death penalty.
"Feed 'em to ther buzzards," croaked Jim Girty.
Simon Girty knitted his brow in thought. The question of what to do with the
converted Indians had long perplexed him.
"No," said he; "let us drive away the missionaries, burn the village, and
take the Indians back to camp. We'll keep them there; they'll soon forget."
"Pipe does not want them," declared the Delaware.
"Christian Indians shall never sit round Half King's fire," cried the Huron.
Simon Girty knew the crisis had come; that but few moments were left him to
decide as to the disposition of the Christians; and he thought seriously.
Certainly he did not want the Christians murdered. However cruel his life, and
great his misdeeds, he was still a man. If possible, he desired to burn the
village and ruin the religious influence, but without shedding blood. Yet,
with all his power, he was handicapped, and that by the very chiefs most
nearly under his control. He could not subdue this growing Christian influence
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without the help of Pipe and Half King. To these savages a thing was either
right or wrong. He had sown the seed of unrest and jealousy in the savage
breasts, and the fruit was the decree of death. As far as these Indians were
concerned, this decision was unalterable.
On the other hand, if he did not spread ruin over the Village of Peace, the
missionaries would soon get such a grasp on the tribes that their hold would
never be broken. He could not allow that, even if he was forced to sacrifice
the missionaries along with their converts, for he saw in the growth of this
religion his own downfall. The border must be hostile to the whites, or it
could no longer be his home. To be sure, he had aided the British in the
Revolution, and could find a refuge among them; but this did not suit him.
He became an outcast because of failure to win the military promotion which
he had so much coveted. He had failed among his own people. He had won a great
position in an alien race, and he loved his power. To sway men Indians, if not
others to his will; to avenge himself for the fancied wrong done him; to be
great, had been his unrelenting purpose.
He knew he must sacrifice the Christians, or eventually lose his own power.
He had no false ideas about the converted Indians. He knew they were innocent;
that they were a thousand times better off than the pagan Indians; that they
had never harmed him, nor would they ever do so; but if he allowed them to
spread their religion there was an end of Simon Girty.
His decision was characteristic of the man. He would sacrifice any one, or
all, to retain his supremacy. He knew the fulfillment of the decree as laid
down by Pipe and Half King would be known as his work. His name, infamous now,
would have an additional horror, and ever be remembered by posterity in
unspeakable loathing, in unsoftening wrath. He knew this, and deep down in his
heart awoke a numbed chord of humanity that twinged with strange pain. What
awful work he must sanction to keep his vaunted power! More bitter than all
was the knowledge that to retain this hold over the indians he must commit a
deed which, so far as the whites were concerned, would take away his great
name, and brand him a coward.
He briefly reviewed his stirring life. Singularly fitted for a leader, in a
few years he had risen to the most powerful position on the border. He wielded
more influence than any chief. He had been opposed to the invasion of the
pioneers, and this alone, without his sagacity or his generalship, would have
given him control of many tribes. But hatred for his own people, coupled with
unerring judgment, a remarkable ability to lead expeditions, and his
invariable success, had raised him higher and higher until he stood alone. He
was the most powerful man west of the Alleghenies. His fame was such that the
British had importuned him to help them, and had actually, in more than one
instance, given him command over British subjects.
All of which meant that he had a great, even tough an infamous name. No
matter what he was blamed for; no matter how many dastardly deeds had been
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