The white men have come with the cannon and bayonet, Numerous as forest leaves the army has come.
Our warriors are driven like deer by the hunter, Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!
Our towns are burned and our fields uprooted, Our people flee through the forest for their lives, The king who promised to help us comes not.
Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!
The great chiefs are slain and their bodies lie here.
No longer will they lead the warriors in battle;No more will they drive the foe from the thicket.
Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!
Scalps we have taken from all who hated us;None, but feared us in the days of our glory.
But the cannon and bayonet have taken our country;Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!
She chanted many verses, but these were all that Tom Ross could ever remember or translate.But every verse ended with the melancholy refrain: "Fallen is the League of the Ho-de-no-sau-nee!" which the others also repeated in chorus.
Then the warriors lifted up the bodies, and they moved in procession toward the town.The three watched them, but they did not rise until the funeral train had reached the fruit trees.
Then they stood up, looked at one another, and breathed sighs of relief.
"I don't care ef I never see that woman ag'in," said Shif'less Sol."She gives me the creeps.She must be a witch huntin' for blood.She is shore to stir up the Iroquois in this town.""That's true," said Henry, "but I mean to go nearer.""Wa'al," said Tom Ross, "I reckon that if you mean it we mean it, too.""There are certainly Tories in the town," said Henry, and if we are seen we can probably pass for them.I'm bound to find out what's here.""Still huntin' fur Braxton Wyatt," said Shif'less Sol.
"I mean to know if he's here," said Henry.
"Lead on," said the shiftless one.
They followed in the path of the procession, which was now out of sight, and entered the orchard.From that point they saw the houses and great numbers of Indians, including squaws and children, gathered in the open spaces, where the funeral train was passing.Queen Esther still stalked at its head, but her chant was now taken up by many scores of voices, and the volume of sound penetrated far in the night.Henry yet relied upon the absorption of the Iroquois in this ceremonial to give him a chance for a good look through the town, and he and his comrades advanced with boldness.
They passed by many of the houses, all empty, as their occupants had gone to join in the funeral lament, but they soon saw white men-a few of the Royal Greens, and some of the Rangers, and other Tories, who were dressed much like Henry and his comrades.One of them spoke to Shif'less Sol, who nodded carelessly and passed by.The Tory seemed satisfied and went his way.
"Takes us fur some o' the crowd that's come runnin' in here ahead o' the army," said the shiftless one.
Henry was noting with a careful eye the condition of the town.
He saw that no preparations for defense had been made, and there was no evidence that any would be made.All was confusion and despair.Already some of the squaws were fleeing, carrying heavy burdens.The three coupled caution with boldness.If they met a Tory they merely exchanged a word or two, and passed swiftly on.
Henry, although he had seen enough to know that the army could advance without hesitation, still pursued the quest.Shif'less Sol was right.At the bottom of Henry's heart was a desire to know whether Braxton Wyatt was in Little Beard's Town, a desire soon satisfied, as they reached the great Council House, turned a corner of it, and met the renegade face to face.
Wyatt was with his lieutenant, the squat Tory, Coleman, and he uttered a cry when he saw the tall figure of the great youth.
There was no light but that of the moon, but he knew his foe in an instant.
"Henry Ware!" he cried, and snatched his pistol from his belt.
They were so close together that Henry did not have time to use a weapon.Instinctively he struck out with his fist, catching Wyatt on the jaw, and sending him down as if he had been shot.
Shif'less Sol and Tom Ross ran bodily over Coleman, hurling him down, and leaping across his prostrate figure.Then they ran their utmost, knowing that their lives depended on speed and skill.
