THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES


 
 THE V *- 
 
 TORY'S DAUGHTER 
 
 ^ Homa at the porth-West 
 1812-1813 
 
 BY 
 
 A . G . RIDDLE 
 
 AUTHOR OF " BART RIDGELEV." 
 
 NEW YORK & LONDON 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 fce Bntcfeerbocfecr 
 1888
 
 COPYRIGHT BY 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 Press of 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 New York
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A MISTAKE AND AN ACCIDENT, .... I 
 
 II. A MEMORY, 19 
 
 III. ECHOES PAST AND PRESENT 39 
 
 IV. THE QUEEN'S GIFT, 61 
 
 V. ON THE EVE, 84 
 
 VI. MISSING, 100 
 
 VII. THE SHAWANOE'S GIFT, 115 
 
 VIII. EDITH, 130 
 
 IX. VERY WAR, 135 
 
 X. THE FIRST GUN, 143 
 
 XI. SQUAW BLOW, 150 
 
 XII. CARTER BETS ON RESULTS, .... l6l 
 
 XIII. DAY OF BATTLES, l8o 
 
 XIV. TECUMSEH AVENGER AND RESCUER, . . 194 
 XV. THE BATTLE AND AFTER AN INDIAN PRINCESS, 198 
 
 XVI. SHAWANOE IN COUNCIL 211 
 
 XVII. RETURN OF THE EXILES, 2[6 
 
 XVIII. SANDUSKY, . 228 
 
 XIX. WATCHING WAITING, 238 
 
 XX. MRS. GORDON AS AMBASSADOR, . . . 244 
 
 XXI. FLIGHT, 252 
 
 XXII. PARTING, 263 
 
 XXIII. ANITA'S GIFT, 267 
 
 XXIV. THE ONSET, 274 
 
 XXV. CARTER'S SPEECH OVER TECUMSEH, . . . 284 
 
 XXVI. THE MESSENGER TO EDITH, .... 288 
 
 XXVII. THE FOREST PRINCESS, 26g 
 
 XXVIII. ' WE BURIED HIM DARKLY AT DEAD OF NIGHT,' 31 1
 
 Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XXIX. THE LIFE DRAMA, 3 T 9 
 
 XXX. THE BRIDES, 33 2 
 
 XXXI. ANITA'S LEAVE-TAKING, 343 
 
 XXXII. HOMEWARD, . .... 353 
 
 XXXIII. CARTER TALKS, 359 
 
 XXXIV. OVER THE ROADS TO THE END, ... 368 
 SUPPLEMENTAL, 373
 
 PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 IN the following pages will be found a somewhat ro 
 mantic story of the war of 1812-1813, on our nortn - 
 western border, written from the ground occupied by the 
 refugees of the Revolution and their descendants in 
 Canada. 
 
 The fortunes of my people are so interwoven with the 
 incidents of the national struggle, that their history be 
 comes largely a history of the war itself, and of some of 
 the commanders on both sides. 
 
 A study has been made of many of the writers of that 
 stirring but now obscure period, American, British, and 
 Canadian, and an attempt made, subordinate to the main 
 purpose, to place the leading incidents within easy appre 
 hension of the reader. Misapprehensions and misstate- 
 ments have not intentionally been repeated. Some pop 
 ular stories and beliefs on one side as on the other, have 
 been corrected. I may add that for all the statements 
 in reference to the Shawanoe chief, save some of the 
 incidents of his personal relations to my characters, there 
 is ample authority, as the references will show. 
 
 The battle of Fort Stephenson, which so signally 
 v
 
 vi Prefatory Note. 
 
 marked the sharp change in the fortunes of the war, as 
 also the great sea fight of Lake Erie, exercised such a 
 controlling influence upon the destiny of my people, that 
 they could not be wholly omitted from my narrative. 
 
 Whatever may be the fortunes of this work, it is be 
 lieved that in its pages will be found something of the 
 spirit and flavor of pioneer life in the West, of that time 
 which sober history cannot embody, and which our litera 
 ture has so slightly lent itself to preserve. 
 
 To the elder generation, the war of 1812 on the north 
 western frontier is already a legend ; to the younger, 
 the dimmest of traditions. Isolated as was its stage, 
 small in actual event, yet most momentous in conse 
 quences, it has never received that attention and consid 
 eration which its intrinsic importance entitles it to. The 
 war on that frontier began with the fall of Detroit, in 
 mid August, 1812, and the events immediately pre 
 ceding it ; and ended on the fifth of October, 1813; 
 and though it raged along the north-eastern and south 
 western borders until January, 1815, through all the 
 Northwest, peace between the great parties was as 
 assured as if secured by a treaty, and the interrupted tide 
 of immigration at once resumed its westward flow. 
 
 The battle of the Thames put an end, substantially, to a 
 chronic, and at times a most disastrous Indian war of 
 more than sixty years duration, in the valley of the Ohio 
 and basin of Lake Erie, and forever broke the power, 
 the hearts and hopes of the immediate western tribes.
 
 Prefatory Note. vii 
 
 I have resisted the temptation to annoy a reader with 
 long notes. For the curious, whose memory or means of 
 information may not enable him to recall or trace them, I 
 have subjoined some supplemental matter of the after 
 fortunes of three or four men and events, mentioned 
 in my pages. 
 
 I had a wish to tell a story which I hoped would inter 
 est some readers. As I made a study of the ground and 
 material, there came a wish almost as strong, to awaken 
 interest in the forgotten history of the Northwest. 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 THE TORY'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A MISTAKE AND AN ACCIDENT. 
 
 IT was a day of late October and past mid-afternoon ; 
 a day of squalls, rain, and flurries of snow on the 
 stormy lake. A small craft had, with difficulty, been 
 brought to near the mouth of a river, from which were 
 landed her passengers. That accomplished, the boat 
 pulled back and the vessel turned her course downward. 
 
 Seemingly, to the small party thus left, the place and 
 surroundings were not what were expected. 
 
 " There is some mistake," said the elder of the two 
 gentlemen, a grave, handsome man, well advanced in 
 years, with the bearing of one accustomed to the world 
 and affairs. " This is not a landing ; there are no signs 
 of the village ; none of the presence of the natives ; 
 everything is wild, savage." 
 
 The river ran from the south, discharging its waters 
 into the southern margin of Lake Erie, west of its middle. 
 The ship was from Long Point, on the other side, and 
 below. Its purpose was to land this party with their lug 
 gage, the means of a few days' subsistence, in the wild 
 region of that side of the lake. 
 
 " The landing may be higher up," said the young man, 
 of unmistakable military bearing, though in citizens' dress ; 
 
 I
 
 2 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 " they were in a deuced hurry to be rid of us, and get 
 off this beastly coast," he added. 
 
 " There were good reasons for that. Can this be the 
 Huron ? You know there are several Huron rivers. Let 
 us explore above," was the reply of the elder gentleman. 
 
 The two ascended the high bank, and looked about 
 them. No signs of man or of human dwellings met their 
 eager examination. 
 
 This was in the autumn of 1811, the period of exasper 
 ation between the owners of the opposite shores of the 
 lake, and before the holders of the southern had more 
 than nominal possession of much of their side. 
 
 From their fruitless examination the two turned silently 
 back to their boxes, bales, and the subordinate males of 
 the party by the river's margin, anxiety on the face of 
 the elder, disgust in the look of the younger. " Coming 
 to this nasty place on the word of an Indian. Was there 
 ever anything so d absurd ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 "You seemed very willing to come," said the other 
 coolly. " As for the Indian, you'd better repeat that to 
 Edith. She is apparently looking for chestnuts very 
 unconcernedly, up there," with a motion of his hand in 
 the direction. 
 
 The other men of the party were three soldiers, in 
 laborers' apparel, and a servant of the elder gentleman. 
 Two of the other sex completed it. When they landed, 
 these, under the lead of her called Edith, took their way up 
 to the higher land, looking about and searching for chest 
 nuts. They were now seen taking their way down 
 toward the group by the river's margin. Leisurely they 
 moved. Their presence in that wild place entitles them 
 to brief mention. Youthful, as their light, easy movements 
 showed, both above medium height, with something in
 
 A Mistake and an Accident. 3 
 
 the air of each as if accustomed to care for herself, to 
 whom the small attentions of male attendants might be 
 but irksome. The face of Edith we see, when near 
 enough, is beautiful ; unmistakably virginal, fine eyes, 
 with marked straight, heavy brows, noticeable at this dis 
 tance. The upper person clad in a gayly-worked, close- 
 fitting habit, from which descended a skirt, leaving the 
 ankle free ; the small feet daintily cased in bead-wrought 
 moccasins, the head protected with a maroon-colored 
 turban-like hat, with a small, white plume. A sash over 
 the right shoulder, sustaining a small, fur-covered satchel 
 against the left side, completed a figure which harmo 
 nized well with the idea of out-door adventure. 
 
 Her companion's appearance was more picturesque. 
 Fully her height, her form had not yet received the magic 
 of roundness it was destined to. A child of the native 
 race, not so dark as the average, her face, longer favored 
 and finely featured, bore indications of a fine strain of 
 ancestors. Her dress, though of sober-colored fabrics, 
 was half barbaric ; head and feet clothed like the other, 
 save her cap was scarlet, and ornamented with a war- 
 eagle's feather, which few women were permitted to wear. 
 Above her sash was seen the ivory hilt of a small dagger, 
 which in the hand of a spirited woman, might prove some 
 thing more than an ornament, for which it was worn. 
 Her eyes, Oriental in shape and color, almost too large 
 for the size of the finely-moulded face, were striking, and 
 she moved with the light, sinuous grace of the young 
 daughters of chiefs. 
 
 " We are on the wrong side," cried Edith, when within 
 hearing. " The huts are over there," pointing to the 
 west side ; " you can see them from the top of the hill," 
 she added.
 
 4 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " Oh, I knew there was some nasty blunder ! " cried the 
 young gentleman, his eyes resting on the face of the 
 speaker, in a way indicating entire satisfaction with that, 
 whatever other source of annoyance he might have. 
 
 The whole party made its way to the top of the bank, 
 led by the girls, when after a little search the Indian 
 maiden re-discovered the small opening through which 
 their view had been obtained of the supposed cabin. 
 Each of the gentlemen secured a sight of the top and out 
 line of the body of a small building amid the trees, quite 
 at the crest of the answering hill, on the other side, 
 though the younger doubted its being one of the several 
 huts they had expected to find on the east side. 
 
 " It would look differently if you had dined, Captain," 
 said the young lady, with a little flash of sarcasm, turning 
 to renew her suspended nutting, amid the newly-fallen 
 leaves at her feet, the fragrance of which she inhaled with 
 zest. 
 
 All the men of the party examined the supposed hut. 
 One went so far as to distinguish a chimney and see 
 smoke rising from it as he said. 
 
 " You can always see smoke from a chimney," an 
 swered the chief of the party. " We are near enough to 
 be heard there ; let us give them a shout," he added. 
 " Now, my men all together ! " 
 
 In response the three, with the leader, united their 
 voices quite effectively. 
 
 " Bravo ! Bravo ! " cried Edith, clapping her hands. 
 " Captain, I did not hear your mighty voice," she said. 
 
 " Once again ! " from the chief, followed by a more 
 decisive effort. " Still another ! " The response made 
 the near foliage quiver. 
 
 " Still the captain remained mute. In his present
 
 A Mistake and an Accident. 5 
 
 frame of mind, his voice would raise the dead ! " was the 
 young lady's comment resuming her labor. 
 
 No response from the opposite bank. 
 
 " Perhaps the men had better discharge their pieces," 
 suggested the elder gentleman, to him called Captain. 
 
 " Well, let them fire," was the reply, with a look tow 
 ard the three, which they understood. 
 
 The day was damp ; the old flint locks hung fire, but 
 finally roared out in the still wood with startling effect. 
 
 " They'll hear that, if they can hear anything. Re 
 load," was the captain's comment and order. 
 
 With silent eagerness the whole party, including the 
 girls, awaited the result. Two, three, five minutes, and 
 the silence remained unbroken, the aspect on the other 
 side unchanged. No man or thing appeared. 
 
 " Well," said Edith, the first to speak, " the invading 
 army of British Tories and Indians will now proceed to 
 assault the enemy's works, who fled at their approach." 
 
 " It may be well to remember where we are," said the 
 elder gentleman to her, reprovingly. 
 
 " Certainly," she answered, laughing. " Pray tell me* 
 and I will never forget it," vivaciously. 
 
 " And what we are," added the captain, dryly. 
 
 "As if the senior Captain of His Majesty's 4ist of 
 Foot, could ever forget what he is, or let us ; and as if any 
 disguise would hide him from Yankee eyes," she replied, 
 with mock gravity. 
 
 " Who has talked of disguises," demanded the gentle 
 man, possibly a little uncomfortable in his present cos 
 tume, in a quasi enemy's country. 
 
 " Oh, there has been no declaration of war," said the 
 teasing girl, assuringly. " For me, I would be very glad 
 to see any of our cousins just now, in any guise."
 
 6 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " The place is deserted or not occupied," said the 
 leader, who had been attentively observing the hut and 
 locality. " Still it is our only chance for the night. 
 What say you, Captain ? " 
 
 "Nothing is easier than to cross and try it," replied 
 the captain, arousing himself at the idea of action. He 
 may have been held a little at disadvantage by Edith ; if 
 so its effect disappeared on this call. 
 
 " My men, we must cross this water a raft will do 
 it ; " he called out to them. " Lively now ! " leading the 
 way rapidly down to their landing, followed by the whole 
 party, Edith and her companion taking their way leis 
 urely in the rear. 
 
 Among their effects were two or three axes, and within 
 a short time there floated by the immediate shore, a raft, 
 apparently buoyant and strong enough to pass the full 
 banked stream, here some twenty or thirty yards wide. 
 
 When all was ready the captain approached the watch 
 ful and silent girls, hat in hand, and said, addressing 
 Edith, " The ark waits, will my lady permit me to con 
 duct her on board ? " 
 
 " Certainly, " she replied, " if the women are to take 
 the lead. Otherwise embark the army and baggage, and 
 we will witness the voyage with composure, whatever the 
 result." 
 
 " There is prudence in that; thanks," was his reply. 
 
 The traps were placed on board, the men, armed with 
 long poles, under the captain's command, made the transit 
 with little trouble, and returned for the more precious 
 freight. The girls and the elder gentlemen took places 
 on the raft, which was launched up-stream, caught and 
 borne down by the current, which it traversed, was ap 
 proaching some drift, formed by the bodies of two trees,
 
 A Mistake and an Accident. 7 
 
 the roots of which adhered to the opposite bank, against 
 the upper side of which the float had rested on its former 
 voyage. When the edge of the raft was now within a 
 yard or two of this resting-place, in its downward trend, 
 the bed pieces at one corner suddenly parted. Near this 
 opening stood the elder man, and to avoid falling into the 
 water, he made a sudden leap to the near drift. He 
 failed to make his footing good, fell backward, his head 
 striking with much force on a timber of the float, partially 
 stunning him, and he went helplessly into the river, 
 there of considerable depth, and having a current under 
 the drift. 
 
 Edith and her companion, under the common impulse 
 which induced her father to spring from the raft, also 
 made a rush for the drift-wood, which they securely 
 gained, and turning she saw the unfortunate man sinking 
 in the black water. She uttered a loud cry of alarm 
 " My father ! my father ! help ! help ! " and would herself 
 have leaped in had she not been restrained by the Indian 
 girl. 
 
 The servant was on the west shore with the baggage. 
 The first care of the captain and of his men was given 
 
 r> 
 
 to their own temporary safety, in the breaking up of the 
 raft. In the emergency what might have been the fate 
 of the fallen man cannot be known. Just at the instant 
 unexpected aid intervened. With the attention of all 
 upon the raft its progress and passengers, no one had 
 seen the approach down the western bank of an active 
 form, which reached the margin of the river as the float 
 gave way. He saw the elder man fall and disappear. 
 He sprang along the drift and leaped into the water a 
 moment later and also disappeared. One of the men
 
 8 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 gained the place, and pushed aside the floating bits 
 which formed the treacherous raft, now closing over the 
 surface next the drift. 
 
 Edith held her breath in a spasm of suspense. It was no 
 considerable part of a minute, though to her an age, when 
 almost within reach of her hand the water parted, the 
 head of the rescuer burst up through it, the face turned 
 to her, almost laughing, with the water dripping from it. 
 
 " He is all right ! " he cried, cheerily, to her, lifting her 
 father's head and upper person above the river's surface, 
 an arm around the intrepid rescuer's neck, now so near 
 that Edith secured her father's hand and with the aid of 
 the Indian girl and the man nearest, he was drawn upon 
 the drift-wood, where the stranger, seen to be quite youth 
 ful, had already gained footing. The captain had been 
 partly immersed and now with the two others gained that 
 refuge. 
 
 Without waiting for words the stranger took up the 
 form of the injured and unconscious man, and with little 
 aid bore him to the near bank. His words as he lifted 
 him, gayly spoken, were " I shall not wet him much. " 
 The captain busied himself in offering aid to Ejjjfrh to 
 gain the land, which she did in advance of him .3rTd was 
 by her father's side, as the young stranger and the ser 
 vant placed him on the level land, on which his feet were 
 permitted to rest. Feeling the earth under them the still 
 dazed man, who had taken but little water, instinctively 
 straightened up, with decided signs of returning con 
 sciousness, while his lungs made vigorous effort to expel 
 the intruding liquid. 
 
 Pausing for a moment, while the party gathered around 
 him, the stranger said addressing the captain " There 
 are no inhabitants within miles of here. I am camping in
 
 A Mistake and an Accident. 9 
 
 an old hut up the hill. We can make him comfortable 
 there. I fear it is your only chance. " He looked and 
 spoke very pleasantly. 
 
 " It seems so," said the Englishman, ruefully. 
 
 "We accept your offer with gratitude," cried Edith, effu 
 sively. Then turning to the still dazed man, she wiped 
 the blood of a scalp wound from the face. He was now 
 so far recovered as to nearly support his weight on his 
 legs. He caught his daughter's voice and turned his eyes 
 upon her, with a little smile hovering on his lips, which 
 discovering, she kissed them tenderly. 
 
 With Edith's words the youth moved forward, still the 
 chief support of the injured man. Just at the foot of the 
 acclivity the river's secondary bank they met the tall, 
 sinewy form of an old hunter, who came striding down to 
 ward them. At their approach he paused, and ran his 
 observant eyes over the party; and then with them on the 
 face of the young man, he awaited their approach. 
 
 " My old hunter Carter," said the youth in explanation. 
 And to the new-comer " He got a dip in the river," 
 he said. " We will give him our cabin. The other huts 
 will serve the rest of his party. " 
 
 " All right ! " was the laconic reply. 
 
 " And he saved his life," said Edith to the hunter. 
 
 " Uv course," was the reply, and the old man turning, 
 strode up the hill, followed by the slower party, for whom 
 the young man selected an easier ascent. 
 
 At the summit was discovered three huts, standing near 
 each other, around^ which had once been a small space of 
 cleared land, now fast being reclaimed by the forest. 
 The new growths had been cut away from the entrances of 
 the huts, rendering them accessible. The larger was di 
 vided into two apartments, with a rude chimney and hearth,
 
 IO The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 in the first of which Carter had already relit the fire. 
 Near this he had also placed the younger hunter's pallet, 
 upon which the injured man was extended, when the 
 younger, referring the strangers to the other two as also at 
 their disposal, said he would send them some roast veni 
 son for dinner, withdrew, leaving the now conscious man 
 to the care of his party and their own resources. Their 
 luggage was brought up, the huts taken possession of, 
 and the strangers made their dispositions for the night, 
 now closing down in the solemn old wood. 
 
 Ere his departure, the young man removed from the 
 principal cabin his few effects, saying to the young lady, 
 glancing about the rude, small apartments " It is all I 
 can offer you. Had you sent me word " finishing with 
 his pleasant laugh, leaving her to guess his meaning. 
 
 " And you ? " she asked, a little anxiously. 
 
 "O, we we have a charming place down by the 
 spring ; plenty of shelter and warmth." Then he bowed 
 his adieu, saying he would venture to inquire after her 
 father, later. 
 
 The injured man was placed in dry wraps, and the 
 hurt of his head, found not to be great, was tenderly 
 cared for. The girls were placed in possession of the 
 inner apartment, and everything arranged for their com 
 fort as far as the extemporized means permitted. 
 
 The contribution from the hunters was a well roasted, 
 saddle of venison, which, with the sauce of keen appetites, 
 was pronounced excellent. The elder hunter was an 
 experienced cook and caterer of th$ resources of the 
 woods, neat for his kind, and this was from his hand, and 
 with the stores of the travellers, made their late repast a 
 feast.
 
 A Mistake and an Accident. 1 1 
 
 As the young hunter left the cabin for his near camp- 
 fire, rekindled in the darkening wood, he was met by the 
 captain. 
 
 " What may be the name of this river ? " he asked. 
 
 " Black River." 
 
 " Black River? Oh ! ah, this is the Black River black 
 enough. Is there a town a place, on, or near it ? " 
 
 " Cleveland is the nearest. No town west, save 
 Indian towns, till you reach Detroit." 
 
 " Cleveland ah ! Cleveland is east about how far ? " 
 
 " Well, some thirty miles." 
 
 " Is there a Huron river on this side where is that ?'" 
 
 " That is to the west." 
 
 " And how far may it be to the Huron about how 
 far ? " 
 
 " Carter ! " called the young man to the hunter, " How 
 far is it to the Huron ? " 
 
 " Thirty-five miles, peraps ; " was Carter's answer, 
 repeated by the youth to the Englishman. 
 
 " And woods all the way ? " 
 
 " All the way. No prairie, no clearings on the route, 
 as I understand is there, Carter ? " who approached 
 them when called to. 
 
 " Every mile on't woods " ; in the sententious mode of 
 speech which the forest imposes on its denizens. 
 
 " Any river to cross between this Black and the 
 Huron ? " 
 
 " The Vermillion, and several smaller streams, " 
 answered Carter. ~ 
 
 Thanks were not a commodity with the stranger. 
 Having received the required information, he turned 
 away toward the brow of the high bank, not attempting 
 to hide from himself the annoyance the position gave him.
 
 12 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 "Black River! Damned black! Lucky Cleveland is 
 no nearer. Forty miles to the Huron ! " adding five by 
 way of aggravation, and blowing out a long whistle. 
 " Well, we are planted here for a week. What if the old 
 fanatic had lost his life. He would have been drowned 
 had it not been for this damned young prig, with his girl 
 face and red lips. The old hunter eyes us, the young 
 one will see nothing but Has been in their army I'd 
 bet a year's pay." A pause. " Well, I shall have things 
 my own way till the old man is on his legs again, here 
 in the woods. Damned little good it will do me though ! 
 Damn the woods anyway ! " he added, peevishly, turning 
 back to the huts. 
 
 Night was in the woods, and very soon its prowlers, 
 the predacious, the hunters, were stealing from their hid 
 ing-places abroad. Notes and signs of their presence 
 might have been detected by an expert in forestry, which 
 none of the strangers were, save the Indian maiden, now 
 housed with Edith, who was a lover of the woods. 
 
 A lovely spring made its way out of the side hill, a 
 third of the way from the top, not far and up-stream 
 from the larger hut, forming a dimple on the fair earth's 
 cheek, whose limpid thread in several tiny cascades, 
 found its way to the near river. Near this was the fire 
 and cooking place of the hunters. An old sail, stretched 
 from the northern lip of the dell formed by the spring, 
 protected it from the wind ; was ample shelter from rain 
 also. Here they passed the night, leaving the huts to 
 the strangers, so curiously thrown upon them, and who 
 were now the subjects of their low voiced conversation. 
 The taciturn Carter was the principal speaker, an indica 
 tion that the theme was one of unusual interest for him. 
 
 " Ef ever I seen a British officer this man is rightly
 
 A Mistake and an Accident. 13 
 
 called cap'en, and these three are solgers ; their guns 
 was inspected less'n a week ago. Appen 'roun there'n 
 you'll find 'em stanin' guard there now. They cum in 
 'ere on that air sloop or sumthin. I seen 'er makin off 
 fore I hearn their guns ; an' them was a signal fer sum- 
 thin 'er ruther." 
 
 " That may all be true ; what is the inference ? " 
 
 " They cum frum Canady," was his summing up. 
 
 " Very likely ; well ? " 
 
 " Ye see, the las' we heern Guv'ner Harrison wus a 
 marchin on the Prophit. They say there may be war 
 enny day." 
 
 " What has all that to do with this party, Carter ? 
 You are shrewd." 
 
 " A man hez to be. Wai, they'r 'ere by mistake. This 
 'ere cap'en knows nuthin o' this side. They thought this 
 wus the Huern ye see ; an 'spected someone else to 
 anser their guns, ye see." 
 
 " All very likely. The Huron is more than 200 miles 
 from the Prophet's town." 
 
 "Yis, but its pesky near the Wyn'dots an Senicas and 
 ole Round-head, Walk-in-the-Water an' them air though." 
 
 "They are fast friends of ours." 
 
 " An' that may be the reason for this 'ere jant. W'y 
 don't they say 'oo an' wat they air ? " spiritedly. 
 
 " Why should they ? The woods are free to everybody. 
 Were they on mischief they would have had a story for 
 whoever they might meet. Why sliould the young lady 
 be with them ? And this Indian princess ? " 
 
 " She's a lady, sartin ; tho' I never seen menny." 
 
 " English ? " 
 
 " Merakin born I reckon." 
 
 " And this Indian girl, an Indian princess ?"
 
 14 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 "Wai, there 'tis, ye see. These 'er spicious times. 
 Wat is she 'ere fer, but to see 'er relations some o' the 
 chiefs ? Wai, ef war cums, I'l take a'nuther crack at 'em 
 hanged ef I don't." 
 
 " They may be on their way to convert the Indians 
 who knows ? Then the young ladies would be of the 
 party." 
 
 " Yis, 'n the cap'en an solgers, uv course. They'd 
 cunvart em." 
 
 " Well, they will be here two or three days, and we 
 must do what we can for them," laughing. 
 
 " Sartin ! Sartin ! We'l give the young lady 'n 'er pa, 
 'n yer princess aint she bright ? briled bass fer breck- 
 fas, an' wunt grudge the cap'en a bite on't, nuther," 
 responded the old hunter, cordially. 
 
 In the rude apartment, dimly lighted save where the 
 brands on the hearth gave out light, were father and 
 daughter, so strangely surrounded in the heart of the 
 forest. The father, quite himself, propped on his rude 
 couch, holding his child's hand as she sat by his side, her 
 eyes on his face, which in the lamp's slender light looked 
 wan. A glance would advise a stranger that these were 
 more than even their relationship ordinarily implies to 
 each other. The accident, the imminent peril and res 
 cue, the intrepidity of the young hunter, whose presence 
 was not the least remarkable of the group of incidents, 
 were the theme of their conversation. Tears were in the 
 girl's eyes unwiped, in the silence which followed. 
 
 " When I left the land of which this wilderness is a 
 part," said the man, in a sad voice, " in anger and bitter 
 ness I vowed when I revisited it when I set foot on it 
 again I would come in judgment, in wrath, with sword, 
 with fire. I am not an hour here I fall, get a little rap
 
 A Mistake and an Accident. 15 
 
 on the head, plunge into one of its smallest rivers, am 
 drawn under a log, pulled out limp and lifeless, like a 
 soiled rag. There is no will or purpose left in me." 
 
 " You seem to me to be your dearest, truest self, papa, 
 dear," said the child, laying her warm, tender cheek 
 caressingly against his face. " The land you left was al 
 ways dear to blessed mother's heart," she said, lifting her 
 head. 
 
 " Yes ; you women have power and strength for loves. 
 Hatreds are necessary to steel a man's heart to the pur 
 poses of justice, retribution," turning away. 
 
 " Can hatreds be a part of justice ? " asked the girl. 
 
 " Man's hatred is a part of God's justice," he said, 
 with his eyes from her. " How dead and empty these 
 things seem now mere soulless sounds," added he, turn 
 ing his eyes to hers, with their former tenderness. 
 
 Edith's face brightened as she received again their 
 light. There was a minute's silence. The softness stole 
 again into the man's face ; with it came the expression of 
 another thought. 
 
 " That face does it come from an old-time dream, a 
 picture, or is it a half-recalled memory ; a face breaking 
 on one in a crowd, which you are never to see again ? 
 Have you seen it before, Edith ? " 
 
 "Never, I know, till it broke from the black water so 
 near me. It laughed even then I never shall forget it. 
 I never should had I ever seen it before," she answered. 
 
 " It is a face to haunt one," he continued. " I caught 
 it on the bank, coming from my daze I suppose, 'just as I 
 felt my feet on the ground. My eyes were open, and the 
 face turned to me. It was all as in a dream ; I really 
 saw nothing else. Have you seen him since ? "
 
 1 6 The Torys Daughter, 
 
 " Only a moment. He lingered here a minute he had 
 to leave us to ourselves, you know." 
 
 "Yes; we will have him here in the morning. I hope 
 to be out to-morrow. What can we say to him ? " 
 
 " What we feel only we cannot express it. I am sure 
 he will be more embarrassed than we." 
 
 " What is your impression of him ? " asked the father. 
 
 "Oh, I can't tell now. He is the centre of light, 
 strong, lovely ; the only time I ever saw a man, except 
 my father, so surrounded, so acting, that that word lovely 
 could apply to him. I fear he is but commonplace after 
 all, and will look like all the rest in the morning; " plain 
 tively the last words were uttered. 
 
 " How sad that would be ! " almost laughing. " Well, 
 give me a good-night kiss, and call Peters," he said. 
 
 " It would be sad," she said, bending, her lips placed 
 to his. Then, calling the man from the outside, she 
 lifted the blanket which served as a door, and passed to 
 the inner room ; a lamp was burning in this also, and she 
 found the Indian girl by a small window, a mere opening 
 which commanded a view of the lower part of the wood, 
 made luminous by the camp-fire of the hunters already 
 mentioned. 
 
 " What is it, Anita ? " she asked, going to the girl's 
 side. 
 
 " Him camp fire," in her imperfect English. 
 
 " Whose camp fire ? " 
 
 " Young chief." 
 
 " So you call him a chief," she said, looking out. 
 " What makes you think he is a chief ? " 
 
 " Him chief ! " positively. 
 
 The view disclosed little save the light. 
 
 " I see nothing but the fire, and the trees," said Edith.
 
 A Mistake and an Accident. 17 
 
 " Him there ; hunter there." 
 
 " No matter ; my sister must retire. We are not to 
 look for young chiefs," she said, gayly, hanging a bit of 
 drapery over the opening. " Now say your prayer, as I 
 shall mine, and we will go to sleep like two good little 
 girls in the wood," softly. 
 
 The Indian maiden approached her, smiling so as to 
 disclose the gleam of her fine teeth, received and re 
 turned her kiss, knelt by .her low couch, clasped her slim 
 hands in silent devotion, and, already arrayed for rest, 
 laid her slender form to repose. 
 
 The experience of the Caucasian had been wide and 
 varied, from a king's palace to an Indian's wigwam. She 
 readily adjusted herself to her present rude surroundings. 
 A well arranged series of the spiney, small branches of 
 the fragrant hemlock, formed the bulk of her bed, as that 
 of her adopted sister's, and changing the garments of 
 wakening life for the robes of slumber, she composed her 
 self as well as she might, to await the change. 
 
 This was a new experience fright, actual terror. Her 
 fine nerves were greatly shaken. Her woman's tender 
 ness, her sensibility, her imagination, had all, powerfully, 
 suddenly, without warning, been appealed to. The scene 
 of the river took possession of her. She did not know 
 when the memory of it became a vision of sleep. She 
 again came upon the raft, crossed, and found a drowned 
 man the young hunter on the river bank ; and was not 
 greatly frightened by the spectacle as she thought. The 
 scene changed with the facility of dream-power. There 
 had been a great battle. The echoes of its guns, voices 
 and cries were still in her ears. She was on the field 
 where it was fought, strewn with its grim and ghastly 
 sights. Some one she was looking for; whom, she could
 
 1 8 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 not at first tell. She came upon the stark corpse of the 
 young hunter. It was him she sought as it then came to 
 her. Uttering a loud cry of pain and horror, she awoke. 
 So vivid was the impression that the vision remained after 
 she awoke. As it faded, she found Anita, the Indian 
 maiden, bending over her. 
 
 " Tell Nita," said the child, with tender solicitude. 
 
 " O Nita," greatly distressed " I dreamed the young 
 chief was killed in battle and I found him. What can it 
 mean ? " 
 
 " My sister find him ? " 
 
 " I was looking for him, and I found him." 
 
 " Happy girl ! Look for chief, find him killed, him 
 alway come back from war." Very brightly this was said. 
 
 " O Anita, is that the real Indian of it ? " 
 
 " All Indians say that," said the delighted child. 
 
 Edith arose, turned up the lamp, and looked out of the 
 small window. The camp-fire had burnt down, leaving a 
 dull red glow on tree-trunks, limbs and foliage. From a 
 wide rift in the clouds the moon was looking into the old 
 wood, where the wind, dying, was heard in little sighs and 
 moans. She again sought her couch, musing on Anita's 
 rendering of her dreadful dream, and finally lapsed to 
 restful slumber. 
 
 The young hunter's last act was to enquire of the condi 
 tion of the injured man, where he found a guard as Car 
 ter predicted. 
 
 His manner of approach was reported to the captain 
 the next morning, and confirmed his impression as to the 
 young man's familiarity with military usages.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A MEMORY. 
 
 THE storm disappeared, the clouds passed, the 
 winds died, the waves of shallow Lake Erie sub 
 sided, and the sun of the next morning touched the col 
 ored foliage of the wood with warm splendor. The moist 
 ure in the atmosphere was changed to frost, aiding to 
 detach the ripe leaves, which were here and there through 
 the wood dropping to the ground, still pranked with per 
 fect greenery. 
 
 The injured man resumed his garments, his head sore 
 and shaken from the blow, a little languid from the 
 nervous shock, yet rejoicing at his escape. He stepped 
 out where the captain awaited him, and the two had an 
 earnest, low-voiced discussion of their position and sur 
 roundings, the voice and manner of the elder showing 
 that their effect on him was depressing. 
 
 With the light, the elder hunter from the high, cliffy 
 shore of the lake carefully scanned its now serene sur 
 face. Not a sail was in sight. He turned back, gath 
 ering up his ample morning catch of the famous bass. 
 One thing was settled : the strangers were not depending 
 on aid from the lake, not immediate aid. Peters and 
 the men were busy about the morning meal, going and 
 coming to and from the fire and spring of the hunters, 
 where the cooking was done. 
 
 19
 
 2O The Torys Daughter. 
 
 Edith slept well into the morning. Anita stole out and 
 returned without waking her, and stood observing, when 
 she came from her dreamless slumber. 
 
 " Oh we are here, little sister," she exclaimed, as all 
 the surrounding and late incidents flashed back upon her. 
 
 " All here," answered the bright child, showing her 
 teeth, as she approached her adopted sister. 
 
 " How bright and lovely you look, Anita," she cried, as 
 the girl came into the stronger light. " That ribbon 
 lights up your glossy hair beautifully. Have you seen 
 my father ? " 
 
 " Him out, talk with captain." 
 
 " Oh, he is out ! I am so glad ; how does he look ? " 
 
 " Him pale like, you call it ; speaks well, call me and 
 smile, only pale." 
 
 Anita was a close observer of Edith's toilet as it pro 
 gressed, alert to assist, and quick to catch and treasure up 
 all she saw. She noticed unusual care, much consulting 
 of the hand-glass, and smiled, as with her woman's intui 
 tion she divined the cause. The captain was still a 
 young and certainly not a plain man. It was not for him 
 these maidens gave the touches to their dressing and its 
 effects. There was a handsome young hunter, a hero, 
 who did things as if born to them, in the near wood. 
 One had seen him that morning, and the other expected to 
 soon. When her array was complete, Edith went to 
 meet her father. She verified Anita's words. He bright 
 ened at her approach, yet something peculiar she ob 
 served in the countenance so long and often studied ; 
 something like what she remembered long ago, in London, 
 on the reception of papers from America, never explained 
 to her, and which now came to her memory. The father 
 smiled as if he divined her thought. Their meeting,
 
 A Memory. 21 
 
 undemonstrative, was tender and full of silent gratitude, 
 which each understood. They clasped hands, the self- 
 contained man bent and kissed the forehead of the daugh 
 ter, and permitted her to receive and answer the greeting 
 of the captain, to whom, in another way, her presence was 
 as grateful. 
 
 A few bright words to her father, and she turned to 
 the radiance and loveliness of the young day in the forest 
 about her. 
 
 " O how exquisitely lovely! See, see, father, see, Anita, 
 how gloriously the sun comes to us through the trees on 
 the hill from that side. Was ever anything so rich and 
 warm ! And the fragrance of the fallen leaves, only take 
 it in, rising to us like the perfume of rich wine with which 
 the earth has been drenched. Oh the birds ought to sing, 
 hark ! I do believe I can hear them almost," laughing 
 at her own exuberance. 
 
 " I heard an owl last night," said the captain, though 
 exhilarated by Edith's presence, not at the time able to 
 even seem to enter into the brightness of her spirits, set 
 free by the removal of anxiety on account of her 
 father. The speech was not a good one, as he saw him 
 self. 
 
 "You never hear anything but owls, Captain. Of 
 course you responded in their own grewsome way. 
 They know you are here," was her mocking answer* 
 gayly spoken, the sarcasm not wholly obscured by her 
 manner. 
 
 An extemporized board with seats had been set up 
 outside where the sun fell, and Peters announced break 
 fast, to which the little party at once made its way. 
 
 The woods and crisp air lent their united aid, and Car 
 ter's bass received full justice. Some ineffective efforts
 
 22 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 were made by Edith to light up the feast with conversa 
 tion. But the gentlemen found their surroundings too de 
 pressing for even her influence, united with the flavor cf 
 the Ohio bass, and she soon permitted them to eat in si 
 lence. When they yielded to inability to partake further, 
 Edith, who had carried on some talk with Anita, turned 
 to her father. 
 
 " Have you met him this morning ? " she asked. The 
 officer did not like this word "him " for the young hunter. 
 
 " No," was the answer. " I waited for you ; we will 
 go to his camp together." 
 
 " Send Peters and ask him to step here," she said. 
 
 " That will be better. Peters, Dr. Gray's Dr. Gray's 
 compliments to the gentleman, and say to him he will 
 oblige Dr. and Miss Gray, if he will call at his early 
 leisure." 
 
 A smile on the captain's face was interpreted by Edith. 
 
 " The captain thinks that Peters may not know a gentle 
 man when he sees one, like some others," she said to her 
 father. 
 
 " He certainly showed a gentlemanly promptitude on a 
 late emergency," replied her father, a little sharply. 
 
 " While others found it all they could do to care for 
 themselves. I must bear witness to the fact, father, that 
 the captain took his share of the river, and I think it was 
 every drop bonafide, honest water ; " laughing. 
 
 " Thanks," from the captain to the young lady. 
 " Floating bits of disunited wood are not a good base for 
 prompt action," he added. 
 
 " Well, Anita and I did not unite them, did we ? " said 
 the girl to her sister. " If we had, they would have 
 been constant ; " and the two laughed, and a little to 
 the captain's discomfiture.
 
 A Memory. 23 
 
 " I admit the great merit and great service of the gen 
 tleman referred to," said the officer. " I feel that my 
 thanks are his due." 
 
 This was really well said, and met its instant reward. 
 
 " I know you speak that from your heart, bravely 
 and loyally," said Edith to him, frankly. 
 . " Thanks ! thanks ! " said the pleased gentleman. 
 
 " 'E will be 'ere himmediately," reported the prompt 
 Peters, who had executed the mission. 
 
 " I will be excused from the interview," said the 
 thoughtful captain ; " but remain within call," he added, 
 moving away among the trees. Anita arose, looking to 
 Edith for direction. 
 
 " My sister will remain," said the young lady to the 
 greatly pleased girl, passing an arm about her slender form. 
 
 They had not long to wait. 
 
 The young hunter came lightly up the steep, paused at 
 the brow to determine the position of those who wished 
 his presence. Discovering them, and not remote, he re 
 moved his foraging cap, and approached them a little 
 rapidly. From the instant he stood fully in her sight in 
 the strong light, the fear that he might be regarded as 
 commonplace vanished from Edith's mind. A long 
 drawn breath witnessed her relief. 
 
 He looked taller this morning, carrying his head well ; 
 not strictly handsome by rule, but much better, his face 
 and eyes full of gay spirit, and ready to break into a 
 laugh alway ready to laugh. As he came forward, Dr. 
 Gray and the girls advanced to meet him, the former 
 resting his eyes intently on the youth's face. 
 
 " I am very, very glad," cried the young man, in a mu 
 sical, ringing voice, '' to see you so well this morning, Dr. 
 Gray ; " extending his hands to him.
 
 24 The Torys DaugJiter. 
 
 " I owe it to you that I see this morning at all, my he 
 roic preserver," said the deeply moved man, clasping the 
 extended hands in his own. 
 
 " Oh, I had not thought that ! " exclaimed the young 
 hunter, a little startled ; and turning to Edith, " I had not 
 thought the danger great/' 
 
 "To one so strong and brave, it may not have been. 
 To him, to us "she paused, much moved. "Under 
 God, I owe it to you I am not an orphan. I I cannot 
 express my gratitude in words/' she said, extending her 
 hand, her voice breaking, and tears starting from her 
 eyes. 
 
 "Indeed! indeed, Miss Gray!" said the young man, 
 thoroughly surprised, taking the proffered hand. " Your 
 your emotion, your thanks oppress me. I must protest 
 as as one not deserving ; " now scarcely less moved 
 himself. 
 
 " Her words are true," said the father, solemnly. "Be 
 fore any of my party could have rendered aid, it would 
 have been, unavailing. This intrepid Indian girl, my 
 daughter, unembarrassed by others,, might possibly have 
 helped me." 
 
 " I saw it quite all, and, fortunately, I was near. I 
 may not have appreciated all the surroundings. What I 
 did seems so little," replied the hunter, his face now 
 breaking into a laugh. 
 
 " I really am glad you bear it so lightly. It seems to 
 lighten the burden of obligation," said Edith, smiling, 
 and lifting her frank eyes to his again. 
 
 " Oh, it was a little accident, in which we all bore our 
 parts well let us think," renewing his laugh. All this 
 time he held the girl's hand, never so long a willing cap 
 tive before. Their faces, each of such excellence, near
 
 A Memory. 25 
 
 each other ; a rare pair, standing in the glorious sunshine, 
 in the perfumed wood. The loveliness, the perfection of 
 the picture, it may have been, yet something indescriba 
 ble; the father saw in it, as did the Indian girl, who felt it 
 as well something that caused the servant Peters to 
 pause and look at them. 
 
 " You will not think us slow in making our acknowl 
 edgments," said Edith, who unconsciously felt the charm 
 of the situation. 
 
 The youth laughed. " I never thought of it all. Had 
 I an idea of your estimate of the incident, I fear I 
 should have been slow to give you a chance," he an 
 swered, gayly. 
 
 " I do believe he would," said the now vivacious 
 Edith to her father, laughing herself. 
 
 " Such an incident as last night makes life friends of 
 the actors,'"' said he, in reply. " But our friend will re 
 member that we are yet to learn his name," he added. 
 
 " Oh oh oh, I thought of that as I came up the hill, 
 but it went out of me ; " laughing. " My name is Dud 
 ley," observing a sort of spasm as of pain, or of sudden 
 strong emotion, which struck the face of Dr. Gray, and 
 the meeting of the eyes of father and daughter as he 
 paused at the name. " Dudley," he repeated ; " Cliffton 
 my mother's name Cliffton Dudley ; " still noticing a 
 changing expression on the father's face. " Perhaps I 
 should say that was my Boston name. In New York, 
 where I grew up with my mother's family, I am called 
 Dudley Cliffton." 
 
 " Your father was of Boston ? " asked the gentleman. 
 " What was his first name ? I've heard of the Boston 
 Dudleys." 
 
 "Philip. I am one whose acquaintances shorten up
 
 26 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 his name. I am often Cliff Dudley when not reduced 
 to Cliff Dud." 
 
 " Or Dud Cliff," added Edith, catching his gay spirit, 
 and feeling as if she had always known him. She went 
 on, " coming up the hill you were trying to think which 
 you were, Dud Cliff or Cliff Dud ; " laughing. 
 
 "Well I was one or the other and the difference was 
 slight." 
 
 Mr. Gray turned away to beckon the captain forward. 
 Edith still permitting her hand to be retained, turned the 
 young hunter to Anita, a charmed spectator of the little 
 scene between the three. 
 
 " My Indian princess, orphan daughter of a famous 
 chief, and my adopted sister," she said to him. To her 
 " He is Mr. Dudley a chief of the ' Long Knives, 1 
 and not a bit dangerous to young girls in the woods," 
 laughing. 
 
 The young girl received him when now he turned fully 
 to her, with a shy, very pretty native grace, peculiar to 
 herself, presenting her small, slim brown hand, that had 
 never known the toil of an Indian woman, her face more 
 than comely, lighting up like a stained transparency from 
 within. 
 
 " She insists you are a chief ; " Edith added to the 
 young man. 
 
 " Him be chief ; " said Anita sententiously. 
 
 " We are all chiefs on this side," said Dudley. " I am 
 very glad to be presented to you, so I may claim your 
 acquaintance, when I see you hereafter," he said, very 
 pleasantly to her. 
 
 " Anita glad," she answered, withdrawing her hand 
 which she placed behind her. 
 
 " At the river you held Miss Gray from leaping in
 
 A Memory. 27 
 
 after her father ; " he said, reminding her of the inci 
 dent. 
 
 " I was an incumbrance. She can swim, and is abso 
 lutely fearless. She would have leaped in and tried to 
 save him, had she been alone," said Edith, warmly. 
 
 " I have not the least doubt of it ; " said Dudley with 
 fervor. A little color struggled to the tawny cheek of 
 the Indian girl, moved by the warmth of his manner. 
 
 " She has been with us five or six months. I hoped to 
 meet some of her kindred when we landed here ; " said 
 Edith, in explanation to which the young man silently 
 bowed. 
 
 " Mr. Dudley, " said Dr. Gray, now approaching the 
 group, with the captain. " My friend, Mr. Home." 
 
 " Of the army," added the young American, as if that 
 but completed the proper designation ; at the same time 
 lifting his cap, which he still retained in his hand, now 
 holding it in both against his breast ; he bowed a little 
 ceremoniously over it, repeating the name. " Mr. Home 
 it gives me great pleasure to be named to you ; " he 
 said gravely. 
 
 The Englishman observed him coolly an instant and 
 said pleasantly : " The pleasure is mutual, Mr. Dudley," 
 in the more youthful man's manner, when they both 
 laughed. Then the Englishman advanced, cordially ex 
 tending his hand said, " I wish to congratulate you for 
 your intrepid conduct of yesterday. You may under 
 estimate it ; you may not know the value of the life you 
 saved to to us all ; my thanks are due you also." 
 
 " Mr. Home Mr. Home, I declare, I protest," ex 
 claimed the American, stepping backward, throwing up 
 his hands laughing, the color deepening on his ruddy, 
 sunburned cheek, ingenuously.
 
 28 The Tory's DaugJiter. 
 
 It was a manly face, to endure increase of color, and 
 yet gain. He looked at Edith, at Dr. Gray, Anita, appeal- 
 ingly the girls laughed in the pleasant way of girls. The 
 Doctor smiled at his dismay and helplessness. 
 
 " Well, I don't care, it is a little discouraging ; " he 
 exclaimed, now laughing lugubriously, in which even Dr. 
 Gray joined. 
 
 " It is really too bad, going round jumping into rivers, 
 and things, getting your clothes all wet, pulling out folk 
 you don't know, getting thanked, and yourself talked 
 about as a hero. Oh, it is too funny for anything in this 
 world ; " cried Edith, now going off into peals of merry 
 laughter. 
 
 It must be admitted that Home did not join in it very 
 cordially. Over his ears in love with this very young 
 lady, and still in the gravest doubt after two years, and 
 here this prig, by some lucky accident, had fallen into 
 the depths of her grace, yet too stupid to be aware of 
 his luck the only tolerable feature of the affair, to him. 
 
 A word of Dudley's lingered in the mind of Dr. Gray, 
 who, as the mirth of the young people subsided, said to 
 him, " Mr. Home is late of the army, and we have two 
 or three, recently discharged soldiers. We address him 
 by his title still." 
 
 " We may both have served," said the claimed late 
 soldier. This he directed to the American. 
 
 " We hardly have an army; my father served through the 
 old war," was Dudley's evasive and modest answer. 
 
 Edith did not like this grave turn. " There is another 
 important cause for our gratitude we might as well finish 
 you the wonderful bass ; with the loveliest brown ; " she 
 cried.
 
 A Memory. 29 
 
 " Ah your thanks are due to Carter for them. May 
 I be present when you render them ! " 
 
 " And the venison," suggested Anita, thinking that 
 must have come by the younger hunter's hand. 
 
 " Oh, well, Carter roasted that. It was a small affair. 
 Anyone can shoot a deer. Anything further?" he asked, 
 laughing. 
 
 "You surrendered your house to us," added Dr. 
 Gray. 
 
 "All the huts, for that matter," said Home, trying to 
 be gracious, and succeeding in being grim. 
 
 " When you see my camp by the spring, gentlemen, 
 you will not wonder at my readiness to do that," he 
 answered. " These huts, as the woods, were open to any 
 who cared to occupy them. They were deserted about 
 the time Carter's brother settled at Cleveland twelve or 
 thirteen years ago, he says." 
 
 "They are wattled, you see, Edith," said Dr. Gray to 
 the young lady. "That is an old German method of 
 fastening the logs together in a wall, by green withs. We 
 notch them together in this country. They have kept 
 their places well indeed. Who were they built by, Mr. 
 Dudley?" 
 
 " Said to be by the Moravians. They undertook to 
 establish a town here, long ago." 
 
 " I never heard of that," said Gray. " They built quite 
 a town on the Huron." 
 
 " Yes, so I've been told. They began here ; a hostile 
 Delaware chief compelled them to leave this place, and 
 they removed to the Huron. I heard it talked of at 
 Cleveland last year." 
 
 " Have you heard of the Huron Moravians recently ? " 
 asked Dr. Gray.
 
 3O The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " Oh no, there are none there now ; at least it was said 
 they left that region some years ago." 
 
 " You must be misinformed. They are certainly there 
 now," said Home, very decisively, turning away. 
 
 " Oh, very possibly. My informants had no personal 
 knowledge of them." Dudley answered. 
 
 " You may have heard," said Home, now coming for 
 ward for the first time, as spokesman, "that much inter 
 est is felt on the other side in the Moravians and their 
 missions. There was a considerable mission on the 
 Huron, and also on the Sandusky Bay and river ; we 
 are really on a mission from the Anglo-Canadian leaders, 
 to these Huron Moravians, and their native friends. We 
 were to have been, and supposed we were, landed on the 
 right bank of the Huron. A nasty mistake dropped us in 
 these beastly woods " these adjectives would drop out. 
 " We are of course provided with papers, which we will 
 cheerfully submit, if our presence is questioned here." 
 
 He paused, and Dr. Gray said "You may see, Mr. 
 Dudley, that Home's statement is also preliminary to the 
 important and apparently difficult matter means to pur 
 sue our journey to the Huron. 
 
 " I have a stanch boat, carrying a sail, just up in a 
 creek here, safe and ample, in which I will carry you gen 
 tlemen and the young ladies, with your traps to the 
 Huron. Your men can easily make the inarch," said 
 Dudley, frankly. A moment's consultation in which Edith 
 took part, and this was declined with thanks. 
 
 There followed much talk. Dudley said horses could 
 be procured at Cleveland, of Carter's brother, or through 
 him ; and he was asked about Carter. 
 
 " He was a native of New Hampshire, grew up a hun 
 ter, a scout of the border, a sharpshooter, an honest, ten-
 
 A Memory. 31 
 
 der hearted, intrepid man, silent and simple ; not without 
 prejudices against his enemies of the old war, of both 
 races," was Dudley's account of him. 
 
 Then a further consultation between Gray and Home, 
 when the captain went with Dudley to find Carter. 
 
 As they moved away, Edith ran up to her father, placed 
 her hands on his shoulders, saying " Oh, father ! can 
 this be a son of that Dudley ?" in a plaintive, anxious 
 voice. 
 
 " His only son my child. My brain worked that out 
 while I slept." 
 
 " Was he like this young man, born of sunshine and 
 happy spirits ? " 
 
 "Very like him, at the same age." 
 
 " Oh, there must have been some awful awful mistake 
 some " 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! child. There was. That all came to 
 me ten years ago." 
 
 " Oh, father ! and you never told me." 
 
 " No, no, I have always felt guilty toward you, and 
 this has come upon me to crush me," placing his hand to 
 his head. 
 
 " Oh, this is not punishment ! it is a reward, it brings 
 joy," cried she. 
 
 " God grant it. It is very dark to me." 
 
 " Dark ? the world is full of sunshine ; full of God." 
 
 " Yes, you and this youth can yet see God in this sun 
 shine. I must shut that out, and seek the inner light ; " 
 sadly he said this. 
 
 " He was like this Cliffton, and my mother preferred 
 you, loved you instead, bless her dear girl heart ! How 
 beautiful you must have been are still. You blessed 
 papa," caressing him.
 
 32 TIic Tory's Daughter. 
 
 " There, my children, run round here in the woods. 
 Light will come to me. God's way will be made clear, if 
 not his purpose. I am glad that you can regard this as 
 reward," he said sadly. "I hope nothing but joy will 
 spring from joy. There I will go and shut out this 
 light, for the truer." He made his way toward the cabin, 
 leaving the light-hearted girls to their devices in the 
 woods, their thoughts and words tracing airy embroi 
 deries about the name and form of the young American. 
 
 The two gentlemen found Carter at the camp by the 
 spring. Dudley told him Captain Home wished to se 
 cure him as a guide to Cleveland ; which he readily un 
 dertook, and the Englishman returned to the hut for 
 slight preparation. He would start at once. 
 
 " No harm can come on't ; and I'de like to let 'em 
 know enny way ; " Carter said to Dudley. "Mebby 'ees 
 playin' off to sort o' spy out the place tho'," he added. 
 
 " Spy out the place ? Good Lord ! what have we there 
 that anyone can care to see ? If they want to, anyone 
 can go there any time, by land or lake." 
 
 "That's so. Per'aps 'twould do 'em no good to see 
 thare want nothin' there ; " was the thoughtful answer. 
 
 Home had the spirit and pluck of an Englishman. 
 His only regret for the journey to Cleveland, was the two 
 days absence from Edith ; not lessened by the fact that 
 she would be left quite dependent on Dudley. He lin 
 gered near her as long as excuse could be found, as she 
 saw. It is not in woman's nature to deplore the reluc 
 tance a brave man might feel at leaving her. 
 
 He said few words to her, several on her account to 
 the corporal left in charge during his absence. He 
 would be back toward evening the next day. Then he 
 took leave, though the girls went to see him off, with his
 
 A Memory. 33 
 
 guide, of whom they had but a passing glimpse. Edith 
 felt a special interest in him, and in return he was a shy 
 admirer of hers at long range. They found him armed 
 with his rifle, awaiting their approach, near the camp, a 
 place of profound interest to the girls. Without a word 
 the old hunter led the way along the brow of the hill, a 
 hundred yards up stream to a point where it was broken 
 down for the passage of a small confluent of the river, in 
 which, near its mouth, lay Dudley's boat, by the low im 
 mediate bank, her spar with the sail neatly furled and 
 corded leaning against a tree. Here with the oars they 
 found the young hunter, awaiting to set them across the 
 river. 
 
 " It is a lovely boat ! I should feel safe in her with a 
 good sailor ; " said Edith laughing, her appreciative eyes 
 taking in the little craft's just proportions, and turning 
 to the boatman. 
 
 " You would be absolutely safe; she would carry you to 
 the Huron," said he. "If you had a good sailor, " laugh 
 ing in turn. 
 
 "She'd want good weather; " muttered Carter, not in 
 timating which she he meant, taking a standing place in 
 the bow of the craft. 
 
 " A good many goods would have to concur ; " ans 
 wered the young lady, carelessly. 
 
 Home stepped on board. Edith noticed still abundant 
 space in the boat, and cast her eyes to the east bank of 
 the narrow river, as if estimating the voyage. They then 
 fell to the eyes of the boatman fixed on her own face. 
 She construed the smile that lit them up as an invitation 
 to make it; the boat still motionless. 
 
 "Anita, we will see Captain Home start from the other 
 3
 
 34 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 side, " she said, accepting Dudley's hand, and stepping 
 into the boat, as did the Indian girl, unaided. 
 
 Had Edith consulted the eyes of Captain Home, she 
 might have doubted whether a more speedy parting on 
 the west bank would not be as grateful to his feelings. 
 Dudley pushed the boat from the bank, turned her bow 
 down stream, and a sweep or two sent her into the dark 
 water of the full banked river. As they gained the open 
 of its now sunlit tide, Edith exclaimed " Oh ! if we had 
 known, we should have come up to this little creek, and 
 seen this lovely boat and then " finishing with a look, 
 as if all had then been well. 
 
 " If we'd known we would not have come up this river 
 of beastly omen at all ; and then " responded Home. 
 
 " Well, then what ? It is of such moment to speculate 
 of what might be, if that which is were not. I am so 
 happy to-day at our escape from yesterday that I am 
 almost glad we did come," was Edith's response ; an 
 swering Dudley's eyes also, whom she sat facing. " I 
 wonder what will happen from this this " finishing 
 with a little laugh this time, turning her eyes into the 
 grand, sunlit wood, from which they fell to the surface of 
 the shining river, which bore many colored leaves down 
 ward. 
 
 " O the lovely lost things ! " she said, skimming three 
 or four out with her ungloved hand, from the water. " I 
 wonder if the mother trees are sad at parting with 
 them ! " her face and voice now pensive with the 
 thought. 
 
 " They take it about as most people do ; " replied Home, 
 with grim irony. 
 
 " You remember, Anita, he heard an owl sing last 
 night." She responded in answer
 
 A Memory. 35 
 
 "Me remember," said the child with a gleam of her 
 teeth. 
 
 The boat touched the other bank, the guant old hunter 
 stepped upon it, pulled the bow up a little, straightened 
 himself up with his head still bent, his back to the boat, 
 he called out " Wai, look out ! " and strode a few yards 
 up the bank, where he paused for his companion. 
 
 " His leave taking," said Dudley laughing. 
 
 " Which means ? " from the young lady. 
 
 " Oh, everything all last words. ' Good-by,' 'take care 
 of yourself ' ' of all the things ; ' ' everybody, I leave be 
 hind.' It was addressed specially to me," was Dudley's 
 explanation. 
 
 As the captain now followed Carter from the boat 
 " Wai, look out," called Edith to him ; in the manner 
 and voice so like the hunter, as to produce a laugh. " I 
 spoke it in its narrowest sense, and as purely supple 
 mental Captain ; " she added. 
 
 " Oh, well, I re-echo it to Dudley," replied the English 
 man pleasantly, moving to join the waiting guide. 
 
 " Look out," responded Dudley, to him, cordially in 
 reply. 
 
 Home faced about at Carter's side, lifted his hat, placed 
 the tips of his fingers to his lips, and waved the hand- 
 back, his eyes on Edith, and turning again the two were 
 soon lost amid the trees. 
 
 " O Anita ! " cried the girl, with a sigh of relief, as the 
 two disappeared, her face lighting with a happy smile. 
 " Oh, my precious little sister ! not much taller than am 
 I, what a time we will have ! Two full days all to our 
 selves, in these loveliest old woods ! We will run in them, 
 hide in them, rustle the new fallen leaves ; we will go 
 chestnutting too."
 
 36 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 " Me saw lovely ones," said the pleased Indian 
 child. 
 
 " You would not care to see the river from the boat ? " 
 asked Dudley, a little hesitatingly, addressing Edith. 
 
 " Well, not now my father " She checked herself, 
 and remained silent. 
 
 " I beg pardon," his face falling. " I forget I am such 
 a stranger, and no one to vouch for me," he replied. 
 
 "You need no one to vouch for you, and you are not 
 a stranger, Mr. Dudley. What if you had waited for 
 an introduction last night ? " with frank seriousness. 
 
 " Thank you many thanks," he replied warmly. 
 
 " My father is alone, and well a good deal shaken a 
 little mentally, by what has happened. I must now return 
 to him," she said in explanation. 
 
 " How exceedingly well she says things," was the young 
 man's mental comment. 
 
 " Perhaps you will permit me to land you near the 
 camp?" he said, fully restored by her words and man 
 ner. 
 
 " Where where you found us last night ? " 
 
 " You might not wish to see that place ? " he asked by 
 way of suggestion. 
 
 " I very much wish to see it," she answered. 
 
 The boat was put about, and a few strokes sent her 
 around the bend of the river, when a broad straight sweep, 
 now dimpling in the sun, the stained shores aflame with 
 gorgeous color, opened to view. 
 
 " Oh, how exquisitely lovely ! " cried the girl, clasping 
 her hands. " O Anita, it is cruel to take you from the 
 woods ! We will come and set up our wigwam by this 
 river. It is not of evil omen, as Mr. Home declared." 
 
 Down the shining blue black water, from bank to bank,
 
 A Memory. 37 
 
 up to the high tree tops, went the girl's eyes, to fall to the 
 face and eyes of the rower, and always to smile when they 
 rested there, as if after all the splendor of the wood, these 
 were more excellent, while his eyes were ever on her 
 countenance. Few faces were more deserving, so young, 
 so fresh, so satisfying ; the high set-apart expression, usual 
 to it, had vanished. That which at times indicated 
 long pursued thought, and purpose, of experience of 
 twice her years, given to contemplation, yielded to the 
 warmth of moved pulse, with a liquid light in her eyes. 
 
 Her words of her father returned to Dudley. 
 
 " It might do Dr. Gray good to make a little excursion 
 on the river ; " he suggested. 
 
 Her eyes came back, a little as uncomprehending " Oh, 
 my father ! I am sure it would, and Anita and I will 
 gladly be of the party ; " now coloring very prettily. 
 The youth noticed it. He did not care why it came. 
 They approached the place of the yesterday's adventure, 
 then so dark and repulsive, now innocent in the warm light. 
 " Is this the place ? " cried Edith, not at first recognizing 
 it in the changing effect of the light. " So bright, with 
 the laughing water running in little swirls and gurgles, 
 and yesterday so black and hungry ? As I live it is ! and 
 there are some of the very woods of our treacherous raft 
 bobbleing round in the eddy now. Oh, you bad things ; I'll 
 not trust you again ; " shaking her finger in mock reproof 
 at the wobbling floats. 
 
 They landed. As the girl gained the bank " You stay 
 here and watch him, Anita. Somehow this is like a lovely 
 dream this morning ; I am afraid it will all vanish, and 
 he and his boat with it ; " laughing gayly. " Now, don't 
 you let him persuade you to get into his magic bark 
 while I'm gone ; " she said to the girl.
 
 38 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 11 Me not 'fraid," said the girl showing her lovely 
 teeth. 
 
 " ' Wai, look out,' I'm afraid ; girls never are afraid, 
 when danger comes in this form ; " she replied, laughing, 
 and shaking her finger at the youth, who stood by the 
 boat's prow. 
 
 It seemed to Edith as if she floated up the hill, wafted 
 by an unbreathed wish, a thing of light, warm color, and 
 fragrance. Her thought was of those she left. She 
 turned for one glance of a face now toward her, the eyes 
 lost in the distance. She knew they were on her. 
 Anita stood by the boat as if regarding its owner as en 
 joined.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ECHOES PAST AND PRESENT. 
 
 THE year was at its complete ripeness, ere decay be 
 gan. The foliage fell from its perfected state, 
 and the forest was filled with its fruity flavor, as of 
 incense from unseen censers. The atmosphere was ripe 
 and full, stimulating and satisfying. One felt embraced 
 and sustained by it, could lean upon and trust it. A day 
 on which life was its own justification sufficient for itself, 
 leaving no wish for a morrow. Beyond its sun, its vigor, 
 its sensuous fulness, there was no need. 
 
 Edith hastened to the cabin, and foun'd her father shut 
 in, buried in a profound, depressing study, in which no 
 light had yet sprung to cheer his perplexity, a thing for 
 feeling, emotion, prayer, as well as study. 
 
 " What does it mean ! that by a sailor's blunder, we 
 should come here to find him, for whom I once made dili 
 gent and vain search," he said. 
 
 " Oh, I never knew that." 
 
 "There is much you never knew, but which I must 
 impart. So much is clear to me now. God has a pur 
 pose in it. Maybe my mission, to the Prince Regent so 
 important, was really subsidiary to God's greater busi 
 ness." 
 
 " Well, papa, are you not glad ? Surely no ill can 
 come to him. If what you said an hour ago be true, he 
 has had hurt enough from us." 
 
 39
 
 4O The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " How can we know ? It is many sided. See this 
 people, drunk with their seeming success, are ripe for 
 punishment. Unprepared, a peaceful, unarmed people 
 rush on a powerful, warlike, armed Nation, trained by 
 endless wars. How must they fare ? " 
 
 " Well, father please hurry the argument, and go out 
 with me, that's a dear papa." 
 
 " What can the result be ? God's arm will be bared, 
 devastation, desolation, blood, death, in all their borders. 
 It will be a girdle of war and woe." 
 
 " Oh, father, you have dwelt on this until " 
 
 " I am an instrument ; you are one, set apart, by the 
 laying of royal hands on your young head," solemnly. 
 
 " Father, will you never forget your personal wrongs ? " 
 
 " Oh, that is all lost in the wrong to the Sovereign, 
 driven mad by the rebellion of this people the very 
 land itself. This young Dudley, so gay, brave and noble, 
 the spirit which sent him to our aid, will send him to this 
 war." 
 
 " He takes his chance as all brave men must, father." 
 
 " Knowing him now are we to arm his murderers ? 
 We you would never have met him, my child, but for 
 this." 
 
 " Can I bring him harm ? It will be but for a day, our 
 seeing him." 
 
 " A day is sufficient for God's purpose." 
 
 " If it be God's purpose, let us leave it to him. It is 
 idle to try to evade or avoid." 
 
 " I would have light to walk by, so I might not seem to 
 evade." 
 
 " The light is outside, my dear father. You know you 
 are my all. Go with me out into it. Forget all the past, 
 the Dudleys we will call him Cliffton. Come."
 
 Echoes Past and Present. 41 
 
 She pulled him to his feet, brought his cloak and threw 
 it over his shoulders, placed his hat on his head, his cane 
 in his hand, and drew him into the warm sunshine. She 
 was irresistible. 
 
 " You were dreadfully shaken up by your fall, and are 
 not the least yourself. We have put off the mopes, 
 megrims, and here we are again. You shall not go back 
 to them." They gained the open, sunlit wood. " Now 
 look about you ! see the splendor of these untouched 
 woods. What stained windows equal the openings through 
 which the blessed light streams down these cathedral 
 domes ? Take in the bouquet of the fallen leaves," draw 
 ing in long full breaths herself. "Take the elixir of the 
 atmosphere, full deep lungfuls of it," again drawing her 
 chest full to its utmost capacity. 
 
 He obeyed her, looked about, drew in the spiced air, 
 again and again, did his best to abandon himself to her 
 control, imbibe her gay, bright spirits. His blood began 
 to move and life to stir anew. 
 
 " Oh, we will fill you, saturate you, lungs, chest, soul and 
 spirit ; surround you, immerse you, bathe you in sunlight. 
 This is God's day; we will give in to Him and it. To give 
 ourselves to it, is to give to Him," she cried. 
 
 No voice like her's had power to charm. No presence 
 could so inspire. All her faculties were in full play to 
 draw his better self from the darker and lower abyss, into 
 which his worse self sometimes plunged him. 
 
 " It is God's day assuredly", he said ; " I will do my 
 best to draw near Him in its glory, and in your way, with 
 you. My precious child, what do darkened old men do 
 in the presence of youth and light? 
 
 " Share them, my own dear father ; with you to bless
 
 42 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 me, all others are as nothing to me," said Edith, conduct 
 ing him toward the river. 
 
 " May I remind my child of these light words, here 
 after ?" 
 
 " When you please papa but they are not light words, 
 save as coming from a light heart." 
 
 Just below the brow of the hill, stood Anita, her face 
 glowing with pleasure, awaiting their approach. 
 
 " What is it ?" asked Edith, running forward to her. 
 " Has he got away really from you ? " 
 
 " Him up there ; " with a gesture up the river, now 
 showing her teeth, so pleased was she at Edith's return. 
 "Him thought down there," pointing to last night's land 
 ing; " not good for my sister's father," was the answer. 
 
 They changed the direction of their walk, and Edith 
 told her father the cause, and Dudley's reason for the 
 new place of taking the boat. 
 
 " Indeed ! Indeed ! How very thoughtful ; " he 
 cried, touched by the young man's consideration for his 
 nerves. 
 
 As they approached the boatman at his chosen place 
 of receiving his guests, Edith called out to him, "Oh, here 
 you are, Mr. Cliffton ; I really began to fear my dream 
 would prove to be a dream." 
 
 " Oh, I'm not the stuff a lady's dreams are made of," he 
 answered in her vein, handing her to a seat in the boat's 
 stern, to which he also aided her father ; the agile Anita 
 meantime found her own place ; imitating the usual 
 course of Edith, in avoiding the minor services of gentle 
 men. She was the first t'o detect the change of her sis 
 ter's usual manner toward this young hunter, which she 
 entirely approved. 
 
 Laying his cap on the seat by his side, the youth, with
 
 Echoes Past and Present. 43 
 
 the easy mastery of the long ashen oars, which was noticed 
 by Home and at once won the confidence of Dr. Gray, 
 sent the boat up the river. 
 
 " Mr. Cliffton says he is not the stuff ladies' dreams are 
 made of," said the exhilarated girl to her father. 
 
 " Ah ! a rash speech a very rash speech," said the 
 quickening man, looking into the animated face and 
 laughing eyes of the youth. 
 
 " Do you know what such dreams are made of, Mr. 
 Cliffton," she asked, with seeming seriousness. 
 
 " Haven't the slightest notion. Possibly they come 
 ready made," he answered. 
 
 " This one did to me," she .said, casting her eyes over 
 the sunlit banks, the shining river, and letting them come 
 back to the young man so near. " This one came ready 
 made and you are in it you see." 
 
 " And dreaming also " ; he added, and the two laughed 
 a musical light hearted laugh in unison. 
 
 "A dream that an old man may wake up to and join 
 in " ; said the elder man, his face quite lighting from the 
 face and eyes before him, and the kindling, almost 
 radiant face by his side. 
 
 " Oh ! and you are to wake up to this wide awake," 
 cried the child, passing her hand within his arm. " See 
 how gay- and bright Anita's face is," she said, looking 
 past the oarsman to the dark glowing face of the Indian 
 girl in the bow. " She dreams. Don't you suppose two 
 may dream the same dream at the same time ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " And each conscious that the other dreams the same 
 dream ?" Dudley asked. 
 
 "Well, yes, of course; or there would be no special 
 fun in it,' she answered.
 
 44 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " Two may perhaps. I doubt a whole boat load per 
 forming such a concensuous dream," said Gray, smiling 
 now as near at one with them, as his years permitted. 
 
 " Dream, dream, may we ever dream ; 
 The real after all may be seeming ; 
 Let it fade with the mist of the sunlit stream, 
 And our world be the world of dreaming." 
 
 he added. 
 
 " O papa ! where did you get that ? It is pretty." 
 
 " Nowhere." 
 
 " Is there any more there ? " 
 
 "Not aline." 
 
 "Well, it is a little sad so I don't care." 
 
 " All poetry is steeped in sadness, tells of pleasures past, 
 with regretful memories, when it does not cheat with 
 delusions. Why may we not somewhere, for a little 
 space, find a shore where Time stops ; and we left to float 
 come and go, and not have the hours counted against 
 us," said the elder man. 
 
 " But see ! see ! papa ; we are going against the tide ! 
 Turning time backward ; " dipping her fingers in the 
 passing water, which rippled between them. 
 
 "Yes, but we must turn my child ; when we do the tide 
 will bear us down all the faster." 
 
 " Oh, you are pensive ; the sun and wine of this won 
 drous day have not yet worked their charm. We will not 
 linger in the shade to-day, will we Nita ? Will we, Mr. 
 Cliffton ? We will defy time to-day. The night shall not 
 come till we will it " a little plaintively. 
 
 " I never remain in the shadow when I can escape it. 
 If I cannot, I stand still, and it floats off over* the trees. 
 The sun always comes chasing after," the young oarsman 
 answered, untouched by the girl's pathos of voice.
 
 Echoes Past and Present. 45 
 
 "Let that be our gospel, our philosophy, only let us 
 drop those goblin names. The sunshine always chases 
 the shadows " a half minute's silence, then " Do you 
 notice I call you Mr. Cliffton ? " she asked of him. 
 
 " I really had not noticed it." 
 
 " Well, you have few old acquaintances here, and may 
 prefer a change," she said. 
 
 " I really think I do ; " gayly. 
 
 " Which name do you like best ? " she asked. 
 
 " Well, I don't know. Do you think anyone likes the 
 sound of their own name ? " 
 
 " Or the look of their own face ? " she added. 
 
 " Well, a face is inevitable ; one gets accustomed to 
 that. A name may be changed," he answered. 
 
 " Yes ; " said Edith, her eyes falling. 
 
 " Time changes the face sculptures all manner of 
 lines and expressions on it ; " said Dr. Gray. 
 
 "You evaded my question, sir; " said Edith chidingly 
 to the boatman. 
 
 " I try to wear my father's name well, not badly, but 
 I think I fancy my mother's family name more." 
 
 " And her first name ?" she asked. 
 
 " Maud." 
 
 " Maud Cliffton what a pretty name ! I know she 
 was beautiful and lovely. One's mother always is, 
 though." 
 
 " I have but the faintest glimmer of a memory of her," 
 he said. 
 
 " Shall we call him Cliffton ? " said Gray to Edith. " I 
 have a fancy for that. He will permit it for the little 
 time." 
 
 "Oh, anything, Cliffton or Cliff, not minding the 
 Mister," said the young man gayly.
 
 46 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 "O dear! this dream is slipping from us. Let us not 
 talk of names. Pretty ones are poky. Mr. Cliffton no 
 Cliff, tell us something bright. I know you can, some 
 thing to make us laugh. It won't take much," she said. 
 
 " I can't say even that little ; " he replied, laughing in 
 his bright way. " I never said a funny thing in my life. 
 You see we are in real shadow," looking up at the high 
 bank above them that made the water black, and bending 
 with might to the oars. 
 
 " Oh, it was that ! How glad I am ! " 
 
 The boat shot into a broad space of radiance from the 
 sun, now nearing the meridian. 
 
 " Oh, here comes the dear tlessed sun again ! " cried 
 Edith, lifting her face up to it, and laughing with glad 
 hearted mirth. In the world is there anything so sweet 
 and musical as a light-hearted girl's laugh a laugh 
 wholly feminine, as was that of Edith, gushing from the 
 depths of a virginal heart. 
 
 Reaching the sun-kissed space, the boat was permitted 
 to slow, and Edith, with her ungloved hand dashed the 
 water in a fine spray playfully over the boatman. 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed the father in reproof of the childish 
 act. 
 
 " I wanted you should see him as I did yesterday. He 
 looks best in water," she cried mirthfully. 
 
 There was no space for a game of romps between the 
 light, gay-hearted girl and boy. Their mood could find 
 expression only in laughter. That was its proper form in 
 the absence of action. Thought mind, save in the most 
 transient sparkles, were out of place, words of any mean 
 ing were to be gayly scoffed. The only thing they could 
 do they did. There could be no impropriety in the 
 presence of the father, though the proprieties born of
 
 EC /iocs Past and Present. 47 
 
 society were out of place, in the free wild wood. Men 
 and women there are remitted to primitive expressions of 
 thought, feeling, emotion. So these bright children 
 laughed as children do peal on peal. Whatever Edith 
 said, they laughed at as the wittiest, brightest thing ever 
 uttered. Their laughter nursed mirth, which broke forth 
 afresh. Anita went off spontaneously with them. Dr. 
 Gray became infected and finally inspired, and soon 
 added his hearty chest cachinations to the concert of the 
 young people, which sent its tide up and down the sur 
 face of the shining river, rising and overtopping the 
 banks, ran pealing off under the forest arches and through 
 the glades. Is there anything which so makes men one, 
 as hearty laughter ? 
 
 Left to itself, the boat drifted into still water, under 
 the western bank, opposite the high shelf of a wooded 
 cliff, with shallow cave openings in its face, which catch 
 ing threw back in weird perfection the mirthful notes, 
 words and tones of the gay joyance. 
 
 The ear of the Indian girl first caught the mocking 
 voice, than which in nature, nothing is more weird, nor 
 so sad, as its dying cadence, bringing to the inner vision 
 the idea of vanishing form melting away in a sigh. 
 
 Cliff took it almost as soon. Edith saw them listening 
 and soon heard it, as finally did her father. 
 
 As it threw back to them the voices of their mirth, it 
 became a provocative to laughter, and very soon regu- 
 ated their vocal manifestations of it, so as to secure the 
 most effective return. By concert they simultaneously 
 and suddenly suspended their open-mouthed notes so 
 as to receive the fullest effect ; again and again repeated, 
 till the impulse and power of yielding to it were ex 
 hausted. Then words and short sentences were ad-
 
 48 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 dressed to the hidden mocker of the cliff, reflected back 
 faithfully, tone, voice and emphasis, the last syllable van 
 ishing seemingly from sight as from hearing, phantom- 
 like, with a sigh, repeating the native words of Anita, 
 with, as was declared, more fidelity than the accents of 
 England. 
 
 " Oh, Indian is its native tongue as I live ! " cried 
 Edith, clapping her hands, only to have her applause re 
 peated to her. 
 
 " Of course it is aboriginal, its native tongue," assented 
 Cliffton, with perfect gravity. 
 
 " Its native tongue," came back to them ending in a 
 sigh. 
 
 " Oh, so pathetic ! " exclaimed Edith, yielding to the in 
 fluence. 
 
 " so pathetic," faintly and dying away, it replied. 
 
 " Why I shall cry," she said, almost overcome. 
 
 " I shall cry," in a despairing tone, exaggerating the 
 sadness of her accents. 
 
 " Let us go, Cliffton," said the girl in a lower voice, 
 now really moved. 
 
 " Go Cliffton," very faintly it said, back to him. 
 
 " Cliff is going," said the youth addressing it in a sad 
 dened voice. 
 
 " Cliff is going " the last word in unmistakable sor 
 row. 
 
 " Good-by, Cliff," he said, his voice influenced by the 
 growing sadness. 
 
 " Good-by, Cliff," sadder yet it repeated. 
 
 " Till we hear you again," cried Edith cheerily, to dis 
 pel the depression resting upon them all. 
 
 " Hear you again," gayly repeated the cheered sprite. 
 
 Dudley swept the boat away, and Edith drew a long
 
 Echoes Past and Present. 49 
 
 breath of relief. "I was really oppressed," she said. " I 
 am glad the spell was dissolved," looking back at the 
 grim cliff. " Poor spirit to think it must forever remain 
 captive there," she added. 
 
 The boat gained the downward drift of the current, and 
 was again lit up with the warm noon sun. 
 
 Cliffton had an opportunity to observe the head and 
 features of Dr. Gray. He had not reached a time of life 
 when men study the heads and faces of men for charac 
 ter, or signs of intellect. Certainly few men of any age 
 could do that in this instance, with the face of his 
 daughter so near his. For the hour the cloud upon his 
 spirit had passed ; care had left his brow, and his face 
 and eyes lit up pleasantly. The head was fine, the fore 
 head high but narrow a striking, distinguished looking 
 man, and he might be called handsome. So much Dud 
 ley carried away from the interview, quite unconsciously, 
 for he could not remember thinking of him at all indeed 
 he was not called upon to think during the little excur 
 sion. None of its experiences were intellectual. 
 
 If for any reason Gray could have wished the young 
 people should not meet, or had regretted their meeting, 
 that regret changed apparently to satisfaction, his brood 
 ing thought yielding to enjoyment due entirely to their 
 inspiriting presence, which if strong enough to thus effect 
 him, must have been much more potent upon each other. 
 This was very apparent to him, accustomed to study oth 
 ers. Edith, in the new light which surrounded, exhila 
 rated her, was never so interesting, while Dudley had a fas 
 cination for him. He could but wonder, as he observed 
 them. They seemed like life-long companions, meeting 
 after an hour's separation, in which nothing had happened 
 to either to be told the other. There was no need to talk 
 4
 
 5O The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 of their past. They said no word of any future. The pres 
 ent was rich and ample for them. They seemed all suffi 
 cient for each other. Never had the presence of any 
 person, man or woman, so inspired the self-contained 
 Edith. She had never before met such a man, nor 
 any man under such exceptional conditions. As they 
 now drifted away from the mocking river cliff, Gray notic 
 ed that the gay, bubble-like spirits of the two had effer 
 vesced. 
 
 Some words were spoken by Edith, having some pass 
 ing meaning, Dudley seeming content to hear them. 
 Possibly to him but melodious sounds, beyond which they 
 signified little. Dr. Gray thought he had never met one 
 so entirely unconscious of himself, as this young man. 
 Not in the least bringing himself forward, or asserting 
 himself. The girl's words really had very little meaning, 
 had no special relevancy, were not many, and brokenly 
 spoken, yet after a little, as he thought, they seemed to be 
 full of significance to Dudley, though they were not to 
 him. The young man now appeared to answer once in a 
 while, with a word, a tone, a smile, or a laugh. Clearly 
 something was passing between them, some sort of con 
 verse, full of pith to them, of which they seemed aware. 
 Once or twice he tried to catch the thought, translate it 
 to his own apprehension. Beyond the pleasure of the 
 presence of each to the other, it was all unintelligible to 
 him. Possibly there was nothing more between them. 
 If there was, it was too elusive for the acute man, who set 
 himself to study them. Apparently they took no note of 
 time, which Edith had banished for the day. He had 
 quite become one with their light mood, and for him her 
 decree for the hour was effective, and to himself later he 
 seemed to awake to find the boat lying by the low moss-
 
 EC/IOCS Past and Present, 5 1 
 
 grown bank, where he first saw it, now hours ago. Was 
 it all an unconscious reverie ? The awakening like com 
 ing from light slumber, where actual and seeming things 
 had been pleasantly blended ? The party stepped from 
 the boat to find themselves in the shadow of the high 
 western bank, so often mentioned. 
 
 " Ah, what did I tell you, my child?" said Dr. Gray, 
 lifting his hand to indicate the lapse of the hours. 
 
 " Oh, the west has become east. The day is lengthen 
 ing," with a laugh that had lost none of its music. " To 
 day is not to be counted with the common days, is it, 
 Anita?" 
 
 " Him begin new time." She answered, showing her 
 exquisite teeth, meaning the present day, and not the 
 young American, by her pronoun. 
 
 Dr. Gray and the girls took their way leisurely through 
 the woods to the main cabin, where they were joined by 
 Dudley. The faithful Peters soon brought them face to 
 face with a mid-day dinner. 
 
 " This is the stuff most dreams are made of, Mr. Cliff- 
 ton; let us play we are hungry," said Edith gayly. 
 
 " Quite too serious for play with me, I fear," he re 
 plied, in his bright way. 
 
 For a play the parts were really well taken, as were the 
 viands, and Peters was left to ring down the curtain. 
 
 Anita produced a small, beautiful basket of native work 
 manship, and the three young people strolled again away 
 in the surrounding forest. There really was little else to 
 do. They thought it was the charm of the wood which 
 led them into its depths. 
 
 " What a paradise of trees ! " cried the fair girl, paus 
 ing and looking round her. " So wide, so endless ; trees 
 everywhere ; one must not be afraid of getting out of the
 
 52 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 woods, and see them fade off. To be in the woods, live 
 in the woods, in the heart of an endless forest ; wake in 
 the morning, and find ourselves there it was not a dream ; 
 not have to go over stumpy fields, -over the wreck and ruin 
 of prostrate kings, wearying and disgusting one's self to get 
 into the woods, but wake and find one's self among tall, 
 healthy, untouched old monarchs, and move over their fall 
 ing crowns and robes, strewing the fragrant pure earth." 
 She moved along while speaking, and now on a small sum 
 mit paused again. " Was there ever*such a wonder ? See, 
 see, Cliff ! see, Anita ! That long avenue, overlaid with 
 shafts and pencils of sunbeams, great sheaves of gold and 
 soft brown shadows, lying across it ; gold on a field of 
 brown, pricked with every hue of green. Oh, the forest is 
 full of these arched, overhung ways." Looking upward, 
 following up the huge, straight shafts, up and through the 
 openings to the soft blue beyond " How high up, and 
 far away the sky is. These tall trees help to measure the 
 distance," and her eyes came down to the smiling face of 
 Dudley, from which her own caught the smile. Won 
 drous as were the trees, the earth, the sun and sky, this 
 almost radiant face was sure to catch her eyes, when they 
 came back from an excursion. Anita, quick to see, noted 
 whenever her eyes traced up the grand trunk of a tree 
 they invariably came back to and rested an instant on his, 
 and always lit up with a smile, or broke into a laugh. 
 To the Indian girl, it seemed the most natural place in 
 the world for Edith's eyes to land. She now also noticed 
 that when her sister's eyes flashed upward to the tinted 
 and now torn canopy of foliage, Dudley's eyes invariably 
 were upon her face, waiting with exemplary patience to 
 receive them, and seldom waiting long, or if he threw a
 
 Echoes Past and Present. 53 
 
 glance upward it was only when she called him to look up, 
 and that he wasted little time on trees or sky. 
 
 So they went sauntering about, the girls in their gay 
 moccasins, rustling the painted leaves, the young man 
 with his light elastic step, having one of those well-made, 
 well-knit, long-limbed forms, supple, strong, and full of 
 flexile, unconscious grace alike in action and repose, 
 Edith pausing to look up and wonder at the trees, Dud 
 ley to look at Edith, and Anita to look in ecstasy at the 
 two, especially when they happened to pause in the sun's 
 rays. Occasionally she picked up a chestnut, as did 
 Dudley. 
 
 " Do you know the soul of the woods their spirits ? 
 The forest has many," Edith said. " They are with you, 
 possess you ; you see them, hear them, feel their presence. 
 You turn for a better view ; the forms change to shadows 
 or sunbeams, the voices to wind voices, sighs and moans, 
 and like the dying cadence of our echo become the rustle 
 or waft of leaves. You hear their mocking laugh, like 
 that of the loon, and it turns to the groan of a huge arm 
 of a tree creaking on the body of another, moved by the 
 wind. The woods are full of spirits," she said, mus 
 ingly. 
 
 " The soul of wildness," said Dudley. 
 
 " We call it wild for want of a better word, or apprecia 
 tion. How this flavor is given to everything the wood 
 harbors or hides ; all of its own. Trees, plants, leaves, 
 flowers, fruits, all roots, barks, perfumes, all have the 
 flavors of the forest. All living things : birds, animals, 
 insects, all wild we call it. It is in all their motions, 
 cries, notes ; all their ways, all alike in this all are of 
 their mother, the woods. Men slay her children, because 
 of this flavor of theiiyflesh."
 
 54 The Torys DaugJiter. 
 
 " Roasted venison and wild plum sauce ;" said Dudley 
 laughing. " Game dinners." 
 
 " Yes, roasted venison, and wild plum sauce. I accept 
 the illustration. I never regret my father's daughter is 
 not a son, only as I think how much easier he could run 
 wild in the woods. But he would want to murder her 
 innocents." 
 
 " Would you live with the natives ?" asked Cliff, glanc 
 ing at Anita. 
 
 " The spirit of the woods is her soul. Its life her life ; 
 its voices and ways are hers. She has its subtle, elusive 
 flavor. They are very exquisite in her. Of course you 
 like them in her very much. But the Indian embodies 
 the ravin of the woods, as you find it in wolves ; all the 
 predaceous, all the hunters, warriors, are alike. They are 
 all taught by the same hand and voice are all alike, 
 cruel we call it." 
 
 "Do you suppose those of the highest civilization are 
 most appreciative of this elusive spirit of the woods, as 
 you call it ? " 
 
 " Well, yes, perhaps so. He, the cultured, sees it, feels 
 it, appreciates it, as no barbarian can. He knows all 
 the contrasts. An Indian is at the head of the preda 
 ceous children of the woods, developed only in that line. 
 I know one a family, Anita is of it, on a more elevated 
 plain. To the average Indian, all things are alike. He 
 does not appreciate the difference. He regards the 
 wonders of art with the same indifference that he sees a 
 tree, a rock all are alike to him. Poor, dear child," 
 turning to Anita. " She has not the faintest idea of the 
 charm, the flavor of her wildness, so exquisite in her rich 
 and really gifted nature. Oh, let us get away from this ! 
 we are in deep shadow ; get into the sunshine, into our
 
 Echoes Past and Present. 55 
 
 bright dream land. We are still in the woods," she cried, 
 catching inspiration from the eyes so near hers, and 
 laughing in her old way of the morning. 
 
 " Why do you call the forest woods instead of wood or 
 forest ? " 
 
 "Well, in childhood, I called small bodies of trees 
 woods, as they were. I liked that name, that form, the 
 best. To me it meant more. Woods, the woods 
 endless hills, wild, lovely slopes with streams, great, far- 
 reaching plains, covered with lovely trees, like these." 
 Then catching the laughing expression of his eyes and 
 face : " Do you always laugh ? " her face lighting up 
 under his eyes. 
 
 " Well, when I am not laughing, I am ready to, I fancy. 
 I really never thought of it before." 
 
 " Yes, so I see, and I like it." 
 
 " I think you have a charming aptitude for musical 
 laughter," he said in reply. 
 
 Spontaneously these things were said, with no thought 
 of compliment, nor did either feel complimented. 
 
 Dudley meantime had purposely conducted the girls to 
 a south-westerly slope of a noble chestnut ridge, where 
 the declining sun sent his now yellow rays with warm 
 effulgence, which lay like a gilding on everything it 
 touched. Here the great, newly-coined chestnuts, in 
 their satin coats, were found in profusion. A few min 
 utes' attention to the nominal purpose of their ramble 
 filled Anita's basket, and the pocket room of the party. 
 
 The sun was withdrawing his rays, and the forest trees 
 and colors were growing cold. Dudley now turned their 
 footsteps toward the river. Edith was surprised when he 
 told her the camp was a full third of a mile distant. 
 
 Dudley spent the evening with the Grays. Probably
 
 56 TJic Torys Daughter. 
 
 in the long and very animated conversation between the 
 two gentlemen, to which Edith was content to be a lis 
 tener, the elder had no purpose to draw out the younger, 
 yet the extent and variety of topics he dwelt upon or 
 touched, served admirably to test the reach and versatil 
 ity of the young man's studies, which proved to be 
 respectable, while his reading of the English classics was 
 exceptional. His remarks upon men and current events 
 showed him a man of action, with a very quick mind, in 
 ventive and fertile. To Edith the hours passed with 
 something more than pleasure. She had rarely seen and 
 heard her father at better advantage. The ready and 
 suggestive mind of the youth, fresh and original, was very 
 inspiriting to him. His face was animated, while his 
 mind fully awake, worked with force and vigor. Contem 
 plative, reflective, he was something of a thinker, and if 
 he produced no things new, he put old things in new 
 lights. She regretted to have this young man go return 
 to his solitary camp. In their room after his departure, 
 she stood with her arm round her sister's waist, her cheek 
 by hers as together they looked out of the small window, 
 and caught the glow of his re-kindled camp fire. She 
 said nothing, and the Indian girl only speculated of her 
 thoughts. To her the last twenty-four hours had made a 
 revelation of the unsuspected nature and character of her 
 fair sister. Bright-spirited, light-hearted, she had uni 
 formly been grave, reserved to others, as if dwelling 
 apart. A cold, beautiful white vase, with scarcely per 
 ceptible characters traced upon it, save in the most deli 
 cate lines, seemingly indicating that it was consecrated 
 and only to be used in the worship and service of the 
 gods. It had suddenly lit up from within, bringing out 
 the loveliest colors, with warmth and unsuspected beauty
 
 Echoes Past and Present. 57 
 
 The scarcely perceptible characters were in relief, reveal 
 ing the strength and excellence of their design. Not in 
 this form did the thought of the Indian flow, nor did she 
 give it form to herself. It was more impression and feel 
 ing than thought. She felt that her sister was waking to 
 a new life. 
 
 The following day, like its predecessors, was rich with 
 sun, painted leaves and fruity aroma. The young folk 
 made it an idyl, all too short, though they permitted the 
 sun to get a little the start of them. As soon as he had 
 the wood well alight they were there. The river excur 
 sion was to the lake, when Dr. Gray was of the party, 
 now well restored. For the rest they were left to them 
 selves, following the suggestions of Edith. The doctor 
 saw that they two were in spirits less exuberant than on 
 the day before. Their intercourse had the frank unre 
 serve of two half-grown children, between whom an inti 
 macy might ripen in an hour. Theirs seemed as inno 
 cent and unconscious. It would end with the day, or at 
 farthest the next morning. The frankness with which 
 the girl met the youth's eyes, without increase of color, or 
 a coy turning from them, was to him, if he thought at all 
 of it, proof of its harmlessness. Truth to say, he was 
 preoccupied, and gave up the day to the consideration of 
 grave and perplexing matters, to which, as we have seen, 
 this meeting brought new and unexpected lights. His 
 first inclination was to turn back from his mission, accept 
 ing this incident as a sign from heaven that it was dis 
 pleasing to God. This he pondered prayerfully, in the 
 spirit of his puritan ancestors. His impressions instead 
 of ripening to convictions, faded, and the will of the Most 
 High was still to be groped for, waited for. His original 
 purpose would for the time remain.
 
 58 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 Home and his guide were expected, certainly by the 
 close of the day. Home came, and on his arrival the 
 Englishman thought he surprised Edith and Dudley at 
 the camp by the spring. He made his presence known 
 by a loud guffaw of laughter, at what he supposed must 
 be their confusion, on being thus taken. To Edith his 
 mirth seemed forced and not shared by his face. It half 
 frightened the Indian girl, whom he had not seen and 
 whose appearance changed for him the aspect of things, 
 and he went forward to meet them with a really smiling 
 face. 
 
 " Where did you get that horrid laugh ? " were Edith's 
 first words to him, frankly extending her hand which he 
 took with a pleased manner. 
 
 " Caught it on that horrid Cuy-hoggy is that the right 
 name, Dudley ? " turning to the young man pleasantly. 
 
 " It is very Englishy," answered Dudley smiling. 
 
 " Well, you take that laugh right straight back where 
 you got it and leave it there ; I don't like it," said the girl. 
 
 " I presume you would like to have me," he answered. 
 
 In reply to Dudley, who asked for Carter, Home said, 
 he accompanied by two young lads, were with the horses, 
 secured for the journey west. They followed the trail to 
 a ford three or four miles above. Hp would find them 
 on the high ground ; when with a word, the young man 
 hurried away to look after their disposition for the night. 
 
 " I expect you'd like to have me go back," repeated the 
 still not wholly placated Englishman. 
 
 " That is very Englishy also, as Cliff would say," she re 
 plied. 
 
 " Ah ! so he is promoted to Cliff ? " sarcastically. 
 
 " When he is not Dud," gayly, turning toward the 
 cabin.
 
 Echoes Past and Present. 59 
 
 "You are not a bit glad to have me back;" lugubri 
 ously. 
 
 " You have'nt eaten since you left us," laughing. " Not 
 glad to have you back ? Well, let me see. Yes no. 
 You see, it is about balanced ; " laughing again gleefully. 
 " O Captain Home ! " 
 
 " The no is the last, and more emphatic, I do believe; " 
 he said, his face taking light from hers however. 
 
 " It should have been plain no, to such an insinuation. 
 You see, there never were two such days as these were 
 there, Nita? where are you?" she was moving a little 
 apart, with the fine instinct of a true woman. 
 
 " Oh, your unsupported word will do for that," was his 
 dry assent. 
 
 " Well, it is all over. You've come back with horses, 
 and we shall leave this lovely place in the morning," she 
 added pensively. 
 
 " Well, don't despair. I had to agree to take him 
 this Cliff, when he isn't Dud, or whatever his name is 
 with us, if he'll go," a little sharply. 
 
 " Oh, goody good ! Do you hear, Anita ? The yourjg 
 chief is going with us ; " she cried a little mockingly. 
 
 " If he will ; " added Home, a trifle disgusted. 
 
 " Of course he will, what else did we oome here for, I'd 
 like to know ? " 
 
 " Sure enough ! " growled the Briton. 
 
 " But why does he have to go ? " she asked. 
 
 " It had to be him or this old sccoit. Dudley is the 
 least dangerous." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " laughing gayly. 
 
 " Well, we are going into the enemy's country to them. 
 Some one must see to the return of the horses. I think
 
 60 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 the old hunter don't care to go among the Wyandots, 
 any way." 
 
 " Will Mr. Dudley be safe ? " a little anxiously. 
 
 " Safe enough from the Indians ; " laughing in a mean 
 ing way. 
 
 " Oh ! " prolonged, and standing silent an instant. " Oh, 
 I never thought of that ; " her face coloring, which the 
 shadow of coming night hid from the Englishman's 
 eyes. 
 
 In an interview later it was arranged that Dudley should 
 accompany the party to the Huron. All the preparations 
 were made for an early start the next morning. 
 
 Among the things mentioned by Home as picked up at 
 Cleveland, he was told that Dudley was regarded as a 
 very promising officer, and had been stationed there a 
 wretched little place, he called it. That the young man 
 had been educated at the Military School, of which he had 
 never before heard. His manner and words did not 
 greatly flatter the Americans. 
 
 Gray said a school had been established on the Hudson 
 he thought nine or ten years, by the American Con 
 gress. 
 
 Edith warned the Englishman that she was of full 
 American blood.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE QUEEN'S GIFT. 
 
 L, look out! ole feller;" were the old 
 hunter's parting words to Dudley. He con 
 ducted the party by a short cut to the trail west. When 
 reached, he stepped aside for it to pass into the not 
 very plain track. The young man called the words 
 gayly back to him, as did Edith, with the hope of seeing 
 him again. Dr. Gray and Home had pleasant words for 
 him, and Anita asked him specially to care for the young 
 chief thereafter, with a glance at Edith. 
 
 To Gray was assigned the best horse. Edith's, the 
 only one that had ever worn a lady's saddle, was a very 
 spirited mare, a little wayward. The girl was a fairly good 
 horsewoman, absolutely fearless, and looked well in the 
 saddle. Anita, mounted in the fashion of her race, was 
 perfect mistress of herself and horse. Master would per 
 haps be the better word, as she used two stirrups. Home 
 was an indifferent horseman, unused to mounted parties 
 in the woods and rough ways, where care of himself was 
 all he could achieve. From leader or guide, Dudley at 
 once became the commander of the party. He soon 
 yielded his horse to carry a portion of the baggage, a 
 necessity, unless it was abandoned. Hardy and lithe, 
 his short heavy rifle in hand, to march in advance of the 
 
 61
 
 62 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 horsemen, was no tax upon his travelling power. The 
 three men of Home were also on foot, as were the young 
 men sent to care for the horses. 
 
 Edith's mare was restive and over spirited, with ideas of 
 her own at times differing from her rider, and there were 
 several encounters, in one of which, the ready aid of the 
 alert Dudley saved her from a fall. To render this 
 in time required a feat of agility and strength on his 
 part, not lost on the appreciative young lady or her 
 thoroughly alarmed father. It is possible Home saw less 
 merit in it. 
 
 The hope was to reach the Huron that evening. There 
 was a delay in starting, several stops and hindrances on 
 the way, and the Vermillion was not reached till mid- 
 afternoon. The late rains had effaced the ford. Obvi 
 ously means must be found for passing it. The horses 
 could be made to take water and swim. The ladies and 
 baggage must be taken over by other means. The mis 
 hap of Black river was fresh in their memories. 
 
 Dudley and the young men gained the bank in advance 
 of the party. At a glance he saw the condition of the 
 stream and grasped the means of its passage. On the 
 approach of Home, he briefly stated what he had decided 
 upon, the preliminaries of which the stalwart ready 
 handed youths, armed with the axes of Gray's party, were 
 already about. The sensible Home called up his own 
 men and told them to aid, really placing them under 
 Dudley's orders. His directions were few and easily 
 understood, and he put his own skilled hands and ready 
 strength to forward his design. 
 
 "He works like an engineer," said Dr. Gray much in 
 terested. 
 
 "And gives orders like an officer ; " said the admiring 
 Edith.
 
 The Queen s Gift. 63 
 
 " He is both, as I told you," said Home. " I learned 
 at Cleveland that he was a captain in their 2d Cavalry 
 or had served in it, and that he planned the slight works 
 there. He certainly knows how to take a party across a 
 river. I suppose their few officers learn all arms." 
 
 " And how to handle horses ; " added Gray. ' I saw 
 him picketing these last night, on the hill." 
 
 " Him a chief ! " was the sententious comment of the 
 Indian girl. 
 
 " That was her declaration when she saw him first," 
 said Edith. 
 
 Ere an hour the entire party, horses and impedimenta, 
 were on the west bank, dry and in good order. 
 
 To reach the Huron that day was out of the question. 
 Dudley's dispositions for the night were soon made. His 
 consultation with Home was perfunctory merely. 
 
 " A purely military encampment in an enemy's country, 
 with our rear protected by a river, as in no event can we 
 retreat," was Home's comment to Dr. Gray. " Of course 
 it is well enough to humor him," he added. 
 
 In a way thrown into a novel position, with unexpected 
 emergencies arising, Home had been at disadvantage, 
 ever since the landing at the Black river. To-day was 
 for him more unfortunate than its predecessors. The 
 place of leader which was his, was usurped by another. 
 Another had taken his place at Edith's side. He had 
 ceased to command his own men, in her presence. She, 
 who had always evaded the attentions of himself, of all 
 gentlemen, evidently received them from this American 
 with pleasure. Seemed in no way to regret the occasions 
 which might excuse them. It was his arms that received 
 her, when unseated from her horse, and restored her. 
 Home was himself much nearer her when the trouble
 
 64 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 with the restive mare began, but this Dudley rushed in, 
 caught the flying rein, the falling form. He reached the 
 west side of the Vermillion in a very ungracious mood. 
 Indeed, so far off his balance as to have words with the 
 young lady herself. The opportunity was an excursion 
 from the one tent pitched, down to the river, in the 
 twilight, where he managed to detain her alone. He be 
 gan by saying " I really feel as if I was freed from my 
 parole" This was in a tone of affected bandinage. 
 
 It did not impose on her. " Freed from your parole ? 
 Very well. What would you have ? " 
 
 " Well, it seems to me if I am not to speak of a certain 
 matter and I can think of nothing else ; do you really 
 feel that you should be be well , so approachable to 
 this Dudley Cliffton Cliff, as you call him on a very 
 short acquaintance ? " 
 
 " What can you mean ? " 
 
 " Even Anita notices it, and is on the grin half the 
 time." 
 
 " Approachable ! Who are you, that I am to answer to 
 your absurd words ? " 
 
 "A man you and your father have authorized to 
 approach you as a suitor." 
 
 " You find me approachable do you ? " laughing gayly. 
 
 " Why should I not be approachable to this young 
 man, if I choose ? Do you forget how we met ? We, 
 my father and myself, were thrown on him for help, for 
 service attentions you were privileged to render, and 
 which we should with gratitude accept from any man." 
 
 " You assuredly have never shown the same pleasure 
 for attentions from any other" still trying to laugh. 
 
 " She would be no woman who would not accept atten 
 tions from him with a lively pleasure. I shall not in the
 
 The Queen s Gift. 65 
 
 least regret any occasion in the future for his attentions. 
 He renders them as my due, without a flourish, or as ex 
 pecting reward." Then her face grew grave, a little 
 severe. " Now I will not be questioned. You were 
 had some recognition as a suitor. You promised me on 
 the honor of a man, if permitted to be of this mission, not 
 to remind me of your position. Well, you feel released 
 from your word. What will you have ? I am quite ready 
 at this instant to give you a final answer." 
 
 " Edith ! Miss Grayson ! I protest ! I implore ! " 
 with energy throwing up his hands in alarm. " I I 
 well, I was not serious." 
 
 " Well, I am. I will not permit you to treat me other 
 wise than with the utmost sincerity and as the freest of 
 women." 
 
 " If If I loved" 
 
 " Beware ! " interrupting him with added severity of 
 manner. 
 
 " You will at least consider the unusual, the unexpected 
 things which in a way have rendered me powerless," he 
 ventured to suggest, quite reduced. 
 
 " It is the unexpected things which try test a man as 
 they do a woman. I may deplore, excuse, but really it is 
 not my fault if things arise not of my invoking, to which 
 you may at the instant, have been unequal, nor withhold 
 my gratitude, my admiration, from another more fort 
 unate." 
 
 " You seriously pronounce against me." 
 
 " I do not. I have thought well of you, how well is 
 
 shown by your being able to remind me of your position 
 
 toward me at home. I thought you brave, manly, loyal, 
 
 generous. I hope you will permit me to so regard you 
 
 S
 
 66 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 ever. We must be true to our common service, whatever 
 happens," she added. 
 
 " I have been gravely in fault. I am grateful for your 
 generous words. I will merit them." This was spoken 
 in a very manly way. 
 
 " I do believe you will." She said in her fine manner, 
 frankly extending her hand. 
 
 " Thanks, thanks ! " receiving it effusively, and bend 
 ing to kiss it, when it was withdrawn, ere his lips paid full 
 homage. 
 
 He was much elated, and could not wholly retain his 
 satisfaction within the safe limits of silence. " One 
 thing I've gained I never before knew you had so high 
 an estimate of me," he said. 
 
 " That is what I did think," coldly. " What I may 
 think hereafter, will depend wholly on yourself." This 
 quite cancelled her words. 
 
 The party moved early the next morning. The road 
 struck the Huron some miles above the deserted Morav 
 ian village, which the travellers reached in mid-afternoon. 
 The little town stood on the eastern bank of the river, 
 consisting of eight or ten small hut-like structures, built 
 of small trunks of the abundant trees, wattled, as their 
 mode was. A few acres had been cleared, now overgrown 
 by the reconquering forest. The Moravians abandoned 
 the place five or six years before the arrival of the Cana 
 dian embassy. On the side opposite was a temporary 
 camp of Wyandots, Senecas, and their friends, from the 
 Sandusky, some of whom were permanent residents, as 
 sembled to meet the English emissaries. After the man 
 ner of Indians, they had placed three or four of the 
 cabins in condition to receive their intended occupants, 
 whose arrival was expected from the lake, where a look-
 
 The Queens Gift. 67 
 
 out had been kept for four or five days. Save a few 
 women, children, and warriors of small note, Dr. Gray 
 found nobody to receive him. The warriors discharged 
 their guns, and very soon the seemingly deserted Huron 
 bore the forest sovereigns over to meet the agent of the 
 Prince Regent. George III. was then in eclipse. 
 
 To the travellers, the vicissitudes of the day's journey 
 were duplicates of the day before. Dr. Gray was an ad 
 venturous man, and saw the approaching end of the ill- 
 starred expedition with satisfaction. Home set forward 
 with high spirits. He had many reasons for satisfaction. 
 This was the last day of an intruding presence, more 
 than distasteful to him. His spirits effervesced by the 
 way, and he reached the lovely Huron, with lowering 
 brow. More than one sinister glance had been cast from 
 under it at the youth, who maintained his position at the 
 head of the party, when not at Edith's bridle rein. 
 
 When the blue dimpling Huron met their sight, Home 
 saw these two turn their eyes to each other, a way of 
 theirs as he had observed, and now as he was certain with 
 regret. This was the end for them. Their countenances 
 fell he thought, as the folk of that day would say. The 
 young lady did not turn her eyes to him never had that 
 way with him. His heart, though near its hour of relief, 
 was full of bitterness, and in a mood to entertain black 
 thoughts and unpleasant guests. 
 
 The last two or three miles down the river were passed 
 in silence. The English officer specially noted, while 
 Dudley was alert and cheerful, his words were few, his 
 light laugh which he had come to hate, was no longer 
 heard ; while Edith was grave and silent, not in her old 
 lofty way, a being apart, but drooping and sad, as a 
 woman might be.
 
 68 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 The party alighted in front of the principal building in 
 silence. Anita springing from her horse, as would a gay 
 and gallant cavalier, went to the side of Edith. Dr. 
 Gray's horse had taken sudden fright, and Dudley felt 
 obliged to turn his attention to him. 
 
 The Indian women approached the young ladies with 
 respectful wonder and curiosity. Anita addressed them 
 in their own language. They were greatly pleased ; the 
 oldest answered her, then they gathered about the two 
 girls, and led them to a small building connected with the 
 larger, which they had decorated and set apart for their 
 special use. 
 
 Dudley's first care was for the two young men and the 
 horses for the night. This accomplished, he turned to 
 the main building, in front of which he now found twenty 
 or thirty fine athletic warriors, standing about a group of 
 th^ee or four chiefs, of the highest rank, with whom Dr. 
 Gray and Home, with the aid of an interpreter, were in 
 conversation. Gray turned, met and led Dudley forward, 
 and presented him to the famous Round-head, a fine- 
 looking old chief, in festive array, and a reputed friend of 
 the Americans. 
 
 " Me Round-head," said the old barbarian, with dignity. 
 " Wyandots grandfathers of the Nations ; " waving his 
 hand with a comprehensive sweep westward. Dudley 
 knew that to his tribe had been committed the great belt 
 of the Indian league, dissolved by Wayne at the Battle of 
 the Fallen Timber. He remembered the suspicions of 
 Carter, and he noted the peaceful aspect of the natives 
 before him. He knew he was expected to say something 
 in reply to the chief. 
 
 " My people have all heard of Round-head," he said
 
 The Queen s Gift. 69 
 
 gravely. " They respect him in war. They are glad .to 
 be the friends of the Wyandots." 
 
 The young man's person and bearing evidently were 
 much in his favor, with men accustomed to note and read 
 quickly and accurately all that meets the senses. 
 
 His words, rendered by the half-blood, were received 
 with satisfaction. 
 
 " My son speaks good words," answered the chief gra 
 ciously. He was then presented to Walk-in-the- Water, a 
 saturnine, ill-favored chief, of whom he had also heard, and 
 with whom he also exchanged compliments. He was less 
 favorably impressed by him. He had once seen Black- 
 Hoof, the most famous of the Wyandots. His quick 
 glance discovered his absence. He noted, however, the 
 presence of one who held himself aloof king-born, if 
 men ever are, not taller than were three or four before 
 him, to whom his glances would stray before formally 
 presented to him. He now came a step forward, and Dr. 
 Gray, taking the youth by the hand, conducted him to the 
 stranger, and left them to stand five or six seconds con 
 fronting each other. Lighter of complexion than the 
 northern natives, light, graceful, yet powerfully made, a 
 noble head, finely featured, aquiline, carriage erect, dig 
 nified, wearing the simple deerskin hunting shirt, leggins 
 and moccasins, red cap and eagle's feather, without other 
 ornament or a tint of paint, he stood the finest specimen 
 of native manhood the American had ever seen. 
 
 " The Shawanoe," said Dr. Gray, naming the native 
 gentleman ; such he certainly was ; and turning to the 
 youth, " the Americans call him Cliffton. Shawanoe 
 has been told what his brother owes him," he added. 
 
 " My English father's friend is very welcome," he said 
 with natural grace, in a voice singularly musical.
 
 70 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 " The Great Spirit made Shawanoe a chief," said Dud 
 ley, impressively. " He has looked on many things. His 
 enemies have never seen his back." He thought he was 
 of one of the fine South-western strains of men. 
 
 When these words were rendered, many tokens and 
 signs of assent and pleasure were given by the Indians. 
 
 "The braves will follow the young chief. Shawanoe 
 trusts his young brother," was the reply. The chief gave 
 him his hand, followed by the other chiefs and warriors 
 present. 
 
 " Well, by Jove, my boy," said Home in recovered 
 spirits. " You've exchanged speeches with the natives 
 before. That speech to the Shawnee took them." 
 
 " The one to Round-head was more politic," added Dr. 
 Gray. 
 
 " I was out with a mission to the Creeks and Cherokees 
 last season ; " said Dudley, " and heard a good deal of 
 Indian speech making. One catches the phrases easily. 
 Who is this Shawnee, I wonder ? " 
 
 " Never saw him before ; " said Home. 
 
 " I have heard of him," said Gray evasively. 
 
 " He must be from the South-west. He looks like the 
 fine men of that region. He is lighter, with the bear 
 ing of a prince." 
 
 " He is Shawnee or Shawanoese, and goes by the 
 name of his nation, I believe," said Gray. 
 
 "Well, he came from the South then or the tribe did, 
 I am sure," said Dudley. " They are on our Sciota I 
 believe now." 
 
 " Maybe," said Gray. " He has a sister at Browns- 
 town or Detroit. Edith knows her well. Anita is the 
 sole child of an elder brother, an Indian hero." He
 
 The Queens Gift. 71 
 
 spoke hesitatingly, as if uncertain of his data, or the ex 
 pediency of giving it. 
 
 Dudley went out in a thoughtful mood. " What does 
 it mean ? The Moravian Mission was their pretence to 
 impose on him. This was a mission from the English 
 government of Canada. It had a special purpose. These 
 men had asked him nothing of himself. They might feel 
 called to say something of themselves. The Shawanoe 
 was a man of the greatest importance. It was a thing of 
 note and report," were his mental reflections. 
 
 Edith was not at supper, nor was the Indian girl. 
 Cliff did not inquire why. He ventured, however, to hope 
 she was not overcome by her journey, and heard from 
 her father that she was much fatigued. The young man 
 remembered that she took her way from her horse to the 
 group of women, without a look or word to him. That 
 could not be her leave taking, yet why not ? It would be 
 characteristic of this strange adventure. The manner of 
 the father was now cold and constrained. Nothing was 
 said of Cliffton's return. He was there voluntarily, purely 
 to oblige these strangers, was his own master, would go 
 when he pleased. He would like to see a little more of 
 this mission. He wanted very much to see Edith ; yet to 
 what purpose ? why should he care ? In all human proba 
 bility they would never meet again. He felt that this 
 would be a great misfortune. 
 
 He went out to find young Carter and his companion 
 uneasy in their quarters. They fancied something sinis 
 ter was hovering about. The presence of the Indians 
 accounted for this. He made a little scout around, and 
 then returned in good spirits. He would pass the night 
 near them. They had a borderer's dislike and suspicion
 
 72 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 of Indians, and knew of the old hunter's suspicions of the 
 Canadians. 
 
 On his final outing Dudley found the night chilly. He 
 made his way towards the river which was silent, and 
 deserted. 'From the high ground, he saw the Indian 
 camp fires ; and heard occasional sounds, nothing unu 
 sual. While he stood on the river's margin, a light canoe 
 passed from the other side, toward the huts. It landed 
 in the shadow, and Anita stepped from it alone and 
 glided noislessly up the bank. He completed his ob 
 servations and returned to his quarters. Had he re 
 mained by the river thirty minutes later, he might have 
 seen Home enter the canoe, and row to the other side. 
 
 The night passed peacefully, and the three gentlemen 
 sat down to breakfast the next morning, the young ladies 
 still absent. Dr. Gray told Dudley he was entrusted with 
 an invitation to him to be present at a council, near the 
 camp, in the afternoon of that day. 
 
 Home said if he wished the horses started on the re 
 turn that morning, one or more of his men should go on 
 with them. Dudley would be well mounted, and could 
 easily gain their camp for the night. There were many 
 concurring reasons why he should remain, and he felt like 
 being at the council. When Dr. Gray told him that 
 Edith had gone to the other side for the day, he decided 
 to go. Her conduct seemed strange. He did not know 
 the native usage with women guests. Perhaps the young 
 lady placed herself voluntarily beyond the chance of 
 his meeting her again. He could think of no reason for 
 such a course ; but that he should think of it, made it 
 seem probable. He would cross the river, but the young 
 lady should find no difficulty in avoiding him. He di 
 rected the boys to complete the arrangements for the
 
 The Queen s Gift. 73 
 
 departure, and await orders. As he went out again he 
 saw Anita hurrying from the landing to Dr. Gray's 
 quarters. On his return Dudley found him much dis 
 turbed. 
 
 " Mr. Dudley," he said directly, " I received a message 
 from the other side. I must ask you at once to mount 
 your horse, and set out on your return. Some bad in 
 fluence is at work, to cause you the greatest personal ill. 
 It comes from a source not to be disregarded. In no 
 event are you to cross the river." 
 
 " Oh, my absence is wished from this council then ? 
 
 " You were invited in good faith, I know." 
 
 " I would not go unbidden, I will not stay away under 
 the threat of danger," showing spirit. " If I am the guest 
 of Round-head, who will dare menace me ? " 
 
 A light hand was laid on his arm. He turned and was 
 confronted by the Shawanoe, whose entrance was un 
 heard by him. 
 
 " Bad men," he said in English with a gesture toward 
 the other side, " Round-head not control. My Ameri 
 can brother will go." 
 
 " Into an ambush, if what you say is true, Shawanoe," 
 replied Dudley. 
 
 " Shawanoe guards his brother's trail ; " was the 
 reply. 
 
 "A great chief invites me to his council, a girl sings 
 of danger in my ears ; shall I run like a frightened woman ? 
 Does my great brother so counsel ? " 
 
 " Shawanoe says go. He knows his words." His ut 
 terance and manner were very impressive. 
 
 " I implore ! " cried Dr. Gray. " Don't for heaven's 
 sake let your serving me involve you in peril." 
 
 " As you please, gentlemen, I go.
 
 74 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 A word to the young men and all was ready. Dud 
 ley, chafed and hurt, turned back for leave taking, 
 
 " Mr. Dudley," said Dr. Gray, clasping his hands, 
 " Nothing has so moved me as the painful way of this 
 parting. You will certainly see or hear from me again." 
 
 " Oh, it is to be, my dear sir. Don't let it disturb you. 
 I don't see Home," he added. 
 
 " This evil word took him away. I will say your 
 adieux to him." 
 
 " Thanks ! Any terms you choose." He looked about 
 and lingered. 
 
 " My daughter is " Dr. Gray hesitated. 
 
 " Is also on the other side ; " supplied Dudley, smiling 
 pleasantly, though there was sarcasm in his voice. 
 
 " I greatly regret her absence as will she. You can 
 certainly trust me with any word or message to her, Mr. 
 Dudley." 
 
 " It is no matter, she knew I must go soon. She sends 
 me word to go sooner. Tell her from me that I ran at 
 once," laughing in quite his old unconcerned way. 
 
 " Is that all you would say, Mr. Dudley ? " 
 
 "That is all, Dr. Gray; " quite decisively, turning away. 
 
 Dr. Gray was sorely hurt. He was in no position to 
 take exception to anything the youth might say, or do. 
 
 " Mr. Dudley, even in this hour I may ask, has my child 
 deserved this at your hands ? " 
 
 " Dr. Gray, I beg your pardon. I will see the young 
 lady herself if she permits. I will attend this council." 
 Haughtily, with something like a flash of his eyes, this was 
 said. 
 
 "Go, go, Mr. Dudley, go at once, God will grant 
 another time. May he ever bless and keep you," with 
 fervor."
 
 The Queens Gift. 75 
 
 In the outer room the young man met Anita, weeping 
 bitterly. " My poor, poor child ; " he said tenderly, taking 
 one of her slim, brown hands in both his own. " Don't 
 cry ; you break my heart." 
 
 " Me so sorry, " plaintively she said. 
 
 " Why should you weep ? your friends and relatives are 
 here, your sister, all you love ; " very brightly. He took 
 from his vest pocket an old fashioned jewel for a woman's 
 ear, curiously wrought of gold and silver threads, contain 
 ing a topaz, which he placed in her hand. " This to remem 
 ber Cliff by. It came from my dead mother," he said. 
 
 " Oh !" prolonged in a little ecstasy of delight. " Edith ? 
 my sister Edith ?" asking if it was for her. 
 
 " Is it for Edith ? No, for you, for Anita." 
 
 " Edith ? " again asking what he had for her. 
 
 " Did she know her sister Anita was coming across the 
 river ? " he asked. 
 
 " Edith a girl," was the pathetic answer. Being a girl 
 she could send no word or message which the sorrowing 
 Indian maiden would regard as fitting, on this occasion. 
 
 "No matter;" was the curt reply ; the youth, man-like, 
 in his anger not catching the girl's subtle meaning. 
 " Good-by, my little sister. May the Great Spirit keep you 
 ever." With fervor the words were spoken. 
 
 The poor child heard and understood what passed 
 between Edith's father and Dudley. She still hoped to 
 secure from him some tender message a word for her 
 sister. Failing, she cast her face into her hands, and 
 abandoned herself to a paroxysm of grief. Had she 
 received it, her plan was to fly across the river and return 
 with some responsive message from Edith. 
 
 Everything outside was ready and awaited Dudley's 
 approach. On his appearance, " Shawanoe will show his
 
 76 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 young brother the trail ; " said that chief. They mounted, 
 entered the wood, and were soon lost to the sad-eyed 
 Anita, who was too heavy hearted to fly across the river 
 in her light birch canoe as she had intended. As they 
 disappeared, with her now uncared for trinket in her hand, 
 she moved slowly to the river shore, and stood by her 
 waiting boat, unwilling to seek the presence of her sister. 
 
 A few yards over the decaying trunks of fallen trees 
 and through thick second growths, brought the cavalcade 
 to the well defined bed of an ancient trail, running south 
 easterly, an old Indian road leading to the far interior, 
 and which intercepted the trail of the returning travellers, 
 several miles from the river, thus shortening the distance 
 considerably. When this opened to the party, a gesture 
 of the guide induced Dudley to direct the young men to 
 pass in advance, which they did, each leading a horse. 
 
 The mare ridden by Edith, wearing her unburdened 
 saddle, was in Dudley's care as he paused by the side of 
 Shawanoe, who observed her, and knew something of the 
 chivalrous regard in which the white gentleman held the 
 woman of his race, he said as if to himself, " Her horse." 
 
 " She rode her," was Dudley's response. 
 
 " It is well ; " replied the chief approvingly. 
 
 As they moved forward now in the rear, in fair English 
 he said. " The heart of Shawanoe is under the eyes of 
 his young brother, will he open his ears ? " 
 
 " Gladly, to the words of a chief/' 
 
 " Shawanoe is at peace with all the Americans. He 
 would not have war. The Seventeen fires* have land 
 enough. Let them keep it, let them not drive my people 
 farther west, and Shawanoe is their strongest friend. 
 
 * 17 fires 17 states of the U. S.
 
 The Queen s Gift. 77 
 
 Listen. My brother should know, the land was the 
 land of all the red men, not this the land of the Wyandot; 
 that the land of the Delaware ; and beyond the land of 
 the Cherokee, the Choctaw. Each owns everywhere. 
 All and each own, nations live here, there on the land of 
 all. Does my brother understand ? " 
 
 " Shawanoe means that each nation is an equal owner 
 with every other nation of all the land ? " 
 
 " Dudley understands. Listen ! All the nations must 
 sell all our lands, much or little." 
 
 " The Wyandots cannot sell the land called theirs, set 
 off, reserved to them by the Seventeen fires, unless all 
 join in the treaty is that it ? " asked the youth. 
 
 " That is Shawanoe's mind ; " said the chief. " The 
 past was the work of our fathers. Shawanoe leaves it in 
 their graves. He has seen the nations. His mind is 
 the mind of all. Not a hill, plain, stream ; not a tree or 
 stone more, shall the Seventeen fires, or their great father, 
 the President, gain, until all the nations unite in the sale. 
 Shawanoe builds a wall ; all his people stand on the other 
 side of that wall." 
 
 The voice was full, sonorous, yet musical, the hand 
 moved in graceful gesture ; the whole man, face and 
 eyes, spoke with energy. 
 
 " My older brother's ideas of the red man's ownership 
 of land are new to Dudley. Do the Seventeen fires and 
 their great fathers know the mind of my brother ? " 
 
 " They do." 
 
 " My brother knows of the gathering of his people, be 
 yond the Wabash ? " 
 
 " Has my young brother heard that the great American 
 father is now preparing to survey the land beyond the 
 Wabash ? He knows it is ours."
 
 78 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 " Does the Prophet mean war ? " Not answering the 
 chief's question. 
 
 " He means peace. There will be no war, unless you 
 take the land from under our feet. Then war," his 
 eyes flashing. 
 
 " Should the Americans have war with the English, 
 what will my brother do ? " 
 
 " My people are poor, they do not want war ; leave 
 them their land and I am a friend of the Americans." 
 
 Dudley could hardly turn his eye from the fine, lithe, 
 elegant form, the noble head and face of the barbarian, 
 still quite young in looks. Who could he be, who spoke 
 for all the tribes ? 
 
 " I am glad to hear my older brother ; " he said. " His 
 words will keep place in my mind." 
 
 " My young brother's words are good. His acts are 
 good. Shawanoe will always be his friend, though war 
 comes." 
 
 " Dudley will be true to his brother ; " he said warmly 
 in reply. 
 
 " It is good ; " said the chief. They moved on a little 
 distance in silence. Finally the chief said, " The English 
 Home does my brother know him well ? " 
 
 " Captain Home ? Dudley never saw him till four days 
 ago." 
 
 " When war comes between the Americans and the 
 English, my brother will meet the English chief in battle, 
 and strike him ; " said the chief, with energy. 
 
 " Is he an enemy, more than other Englishmen ? " 
 
 " Speaks foolish words. Bad men hear them. They 
 go out. He cannot gather them back in his hands." 
 
 Dudley breathed out a long drawn, low whistle and 
 then laughed a light hearted laugh.
 
 TJie Queen's Gift. 79 
 
 " My young brother's heart is good. He laughs, and 
 has no fear ; " said the chief, a plesant smile on his 
 lips. 
 
 " Did my brother hear the bad words ? " asked Dud 
 ley. 
 
 " They reached Shawanoe's little sister." 
 
 "Anita?" 
 
 A look of assent. 
 
 " So I am running away from Home," laughing. 
 " Chief, I will go back ; " turning his horse back. 
 
 " My brother will go east," said the chief, catching the 
 chief's rein and arresting the movement. 
 
 " Shawanoe is right. There is no time or room for a 
 quarrel," said Dudley, much vexed and chagrined. Yet 
 to save him he could not help laughing at the position he 
 occupied in his own eyes with this half light on the cause 
 of his flight. He asked many questions. The chief 
 could not or would not answer them. Some miles they 
 went, and struck the trail of the day before. Here Shaw 
 anoe dismounted. He had ridden the horse of Home on 
 the journey west, and would walk back. Standing, he 
 took from the breast inside his hunting shirt a deer skin 
 parcel, from which he drew a small, quaintly fashioned, 
 well-worn medal it may have been wrought of gold, to 
 which was attached a fresh scarlet ribbon. This he 
 handed to the surprised Dudley, saying " My young 
 brother will wear this in battle." 
 
 " In battle ? Why ? " 
 
 " My warriors will know it." 
 
 Dudley holding it in his hand, still had his eyes on the 
 chief's face, as if he would know more. 
 
 " It came to Shawanoe from his sister " added the 
 chief.
 
 8o The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 "Anita?" 
 
 " From his English sister/' 
 
 " Oh ! " prolonged. " And and for me ? " eagerly. 
 
 " If that pleases the heart of my young brother." 
 
 " More than he dare say." 
 
 " When Dudley again meets Shawanoe's English sister 
 he will show her that ; " pointing to the decoration. " She 
 will understand. Shawanoe leaves his young brother." 
 Extending his hand, his face showing sadness, Dudley 
 grasped and pressed it warmly. Just then not able to com 
 mand his voice, their hands unclasped. The Indian 
 turned and walked back along the old trail, moving with 
 the light, firm step of Dudley, rather than with the sham 
 bling gait of his race. 
 
 The young men as they entered the known trail, seeing 
 Dudley and the chief stop, halted also, and witnessed the 
 parting. 
 
 " Boys," said the youth, approaching them, " There 
 goes the finest form and the noblest soul that ever ap 
 peared in the woods of America." 
 
 " Yis. 'E's a good looken enuff Ingin ; " said the old 
 hunter, showing from behind a tree, as if all the time of 
 the party. 
 
 " Hullo ! Carter what's up ? what sent you here ? " 
 called the surprised yet pleased Dudley to him, cheerily. 
 
 " Wai, nuthin purty much. I'se kind a lonesome like, 
 'n I thought I'de foller on an see 'ow ye cum on, " he an 
 swered. " 'E's a good looken Ingin, an' gon right back 
 mebby. You go on, and I'le kinder purtect the rare.'"' 
 
 " Well, I'm glad to see you, anyway," said the now 
 laughing young man. " Go on, boys," who obeyed with 
 alacrity.
 
 The Queens Gift. 8 1 
 
 " Wai, ye see, I didn't know w'at might 'appen," said 
 Carter, thinking his presence needed an excuse. 
 
 " All right. Boys, we'll camp on Black River to-night," 
 called Dudley cheerily to them. 
 
 How bright the world was to him with his toy ! He had 
 flashed to the conclusion, that it was from the hand of 
 Edith to him, direct. So he managed to press it many 
 times furtively, to his lips. It did not occur to him that 
 Anita would be the bearer, instead of an Indian chiaf. 
 If it had, who would expect a young lady to give such a 
 thing to an Indian for himself, and why should he bestow 
 her gift on a stranger ? He for the time forgot what 
 Anita said of her sister. " She was a girl," and so could 
 send him nothing. No matter as he said to the weep 
 ing child, who besought him for one poor word to the ab 
 sent one. He had his toy, it was from her, perhaps not a 
 token of love : of course it was not, but of kind remem 
 brance and favor, so he kissed it again. How cruel his 
 unkind words of her now seemed ! He was very young. 
 He may learn more of the magnanimity of Shawanoe. 
 Lessons, however learned of the exceptional nature and 
 character of women of Edith's quality, will harm him 
 none, unappreciative of himself and pure of heart as he 
 was. 
 
 It is probable the young woman was induced to pass 
 to the west side of the Huron and remain there, till the 
 departure of Dudley, and I am quite certain both she 
 and her father were not then informed of any supposed 
 connection between Home, and the suspected design 
 against the young man. 
 
 The twilight of that day was deepening in the room oc 
 cupied by Edith and Anita. Weary from her journey, 
 depressed with sadness, Edith reclined on a low couch, 
 6
 
 82 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 her head in the tender Indian girl's lap. She had given 
 way to tears ; though now composed, she was, perhaps for 
 the first time, oppressed with that sense of helplessness, 
 which comes many times upon women by reason of their 
 womanhood, under some conditions in which one of the 
 other sex is involved. They are to be and remain silent, 
 passive, because they are women, girls. Let what will 
 happen, they cannot seek or offer explanations. 
 
 " O Anita ! we are two helpless, motherless girls, with 
 no one to say a word for us, or do a kind act, or tell us 
 what we may do or say ourselves," she said, in a sad 
 voice. 
 
 " Edith father," suggested the Indian girl. 
 
 " He is a man. A father hides his daughter. Cliffton 
 asked if I knew you were to come here ; your answer 
 admitted I did know it, though I did not know why. 
 Your answer ' Edith a girl,' merely a helpless mute 
 woman, that told all to a woman. It said nothing to a 
 man. What poor creatures they are, when proved. A 
 poor little good-bye, would have contented him, had I 
 known. How did he look, Anita ? Tell me all about it." 
 
 " What call sad face white ; then proud to father, say 
 ' no matter ' twice. It hurt him." 
 
 "'No matter ! r 'No matter!' They were the best 
 words. Oh, I know how he felt ! a good-bye word across 
 the river to me, were nothing. His words here, his look, 
 his being hurt, are much more, much better. You don't 
 understand my words, do you ? " 
 
 " My sister's heart good ! " answered Anita, lifting her 
 head and touching the red mouth with her lips. 
 
 " These four days and then this bitter fifth Oh, so 
 bitter ! Was this a plan to hurry him away, prevent a 
 leave-taking ? I wish I knew ! "
 
 The Queens Gift. 83 
 
 " Chief Uncle go with him Home, English Home," 
 sharply. 
 
 " What of him ? " eagerly. 
 
 " Say bad words very bad." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Hate young chief." 
 
 "Anita is to think nothing but good of Captain Home." 
 
 " Anita think nothing. Edith ask Uncle ask Shawa- 
 noe." Then came two or three minutes' silence. 
 
 " Where do you suppose he is now ? " asked Edith. 
 
 " My sister's heart is with the young chief ? " 
 
 " Why not ? I've nothing else pleasant to think about. 
 Where does Anita think the young chief is now ? " 
 
 " In camp, by black- shining water. All still. He 
 close his eyes and listen. He hear Edith laugh, he start 
 up to look for her ; all still, night come down in woods. 
 Him very sad, very lonesome." 
 
 " You blessed child," caressing her. " Will Edith ever 
 see him again ? " 
 
 "Will sun rise? Anita meet young chief in woods. 
 She bring him to Edith. Anita bring him ? " 
 
 " Shall you bring him ? If you find him." 
 
 " Anita find him, bring him," confidently.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ON THE EVE. 
 
 1812-1813, characters of fire on the brow of the west 
 ern province of the Crown, then called Upper Can 
 ada or Canada West. An episode which gave her name 
 and place in English and American history, to which 
 her children turn with pride. It was then largely the 
 home of the English inhabitants ; had become the place 
 of refuge of most who fled from the States, when self- 
 constituted law gave form to their appeal to arms, against 
 the common sovereign. 
 
 These adherents to the cherished loyalty of Englishmen 
 became the objects of hatred and persecution, that in our 
 traditions and literature, took the most odious forms, and 
 still endure. Their sole offence, their sharing largely 
 the once universal sentiment of devotion to the sovereign, 
 taught in all the colonies as a primal virtue, a part of 
 religious faith essential to private worth, and the crown 
 of civic and public service. In the breaking up, as it 
 seemed to them, of the foundations of society, incidental 
 to an impious rebellion, they stood firm in old faiths and 
 devotions, took no new ideas, entered upon no new action, 
 were guilty of no crime, shared in no apostacy of faith, 
 or deviation in conduct from established standards. In 
 their devotion to principle, honor, education, tradition, 
 and what for them was duty they took up arms, went to 
 battle, to prison, confiscation, exile, death. Men capable 
 
 84
 
 On the Eve. 85 
 
 of such devotion were men of- high natures and inflexible 
 character, which in any other cause would have won from 
 their countrymen the most exalted respect and the 
 warmest admiration. Between the revolted colonies and 
 the loyal provinces lay vast stretches of stormy sea, and 
 wide regions of dreary wilderness, to be traversed by the 
 exiles for conscience's sake. The Crown received and 
 sheltered it, in the scantiest way, indemnified its subjects, 
 who renounced all for it. These expected, hoped, prayed, 
 fought, for the triumph of the royal arms. They looked 
 forward to a return, a realization of what men in their 
 position might expect from victory. They reciprocated 
 the hatred of their new enemies with the added sense of 
 personal wrong. When their hopes perished, impover 
 ished, heart-sick, doubting the justice of God, or seeing 
 it deferred to a day of later retribution, they rebuilt their 
 lives as they might, and awaited its coming in the ripen 
 ing time. 
 
 Remote in the distance and late to be informed, they 
 watched with the restiveness of men personally interested, 
 through the years of renewed quarrel between the two 
 nations, knowing it was but a continuous burning of the 
 old, smothered, not extinguished animosity. That the 
 Americans should take advantage of the perilous condi 
 tion of England to strike her, they expected. Still when 
 Congress declared war, so confident were they that to 
 them it seemed the madness preceding destruction. 
 They knew the aroused bitterness of their enemies. 
 They did not anticipate a renewal of Arnold's expedition. 
 The lower province was protected by the same sea, the 
 same wilderness, traversed by no road. The western, 
 where they mostly lived, was behind the lakes, which 
 Great Britain ruled. The tribes of numerous and power-
 
 86 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 ful Indians were their allies, eager for the word to leap 
 upon a wide exposed frontier ; fit instruments in the hand 
 of God to work his long delayed vengeance. They felt 
 little apprehension of invasion from the western border. 
 Michigan was an unbroken wilderness, as was all north 
 ern Indiana. There were feeble settlements at Cleveland 
 and eastward. The inhabitants of Ohio must traverse 
 two hundred miles of savage wilds, and the people of 
 Kentucky nearly twice that distance to reach them. 
 They felt safe. 
 
 Not long did this sense of security continue. Sud 
 denly, with but a day's notice, an American general at 
 the head of an American army, crossed the Detroit river, 
 issued a stirring proclamation, and was in possession of 
 everything but the feeble fort at Maiden. Consterna 
 tion, a sense of utter helplessness, paralyzed the Cana 
 dians. They were capable of being aroused and taking 
 arms effectively. There was a man at the head of civil 
 and military government, equal to any demand. Crea 
 tive, masterful, confident, the ablest English commander 
 ever appearing on the continent, not excepting Wolf or 
 Cornwallis. His voice called into action the latent 
 courage and energy of the people of his province. They 
 only needed to hear the trumpet call, and find a leader. 
 
 The refugees, old and young, all of English, Scotch 
 and Irish blood, arose at the call, nor did the French 
 linger long. The Robinsons, Coffins, Sheaffes, New 
 Englanders ; the McDonalds and Evanses, men of high 
 courage ; the McNabs, and others first planted in 
 Canada, at once responded. With these and a small 
 body of his old regiment, with him under Nelson at 
 Copenhagen, Brock flew to meet the invader of his 
 western border. He reached it to find that his enemy,
 
 On the Eve. 87 
 
 thinking better or worse of his enterprise, had returned 
 to the American shore, sheltered in a strong, well-armed 
 fort, whose guns did not command the river (it was built 
 to protect from Indians) ; but he was amply prepared to 
 erect powerful shore batteries which would annoy him on 
 his own side. The American had a spirited, well-armed 
 body of troops, which in efficient hands might set him 
 at defiance, and who evidently desired nothing so much 
 as his approach. Brock also found awaiting his arrival 
 an ally worthy to share his counsel and confidence, un 
 doubtedly the ablest leader of native warriors ever met 
 by soldiers of European origin on this continent. 
 
 The Shavvanoe returned from his meeting with the Eng 
 lish emissaries on the Huron, to find that, in violation 
 of his explicit commands, his brother, Tensk-wau-tawa, 
 the famous prophet, had with all his bands attacked 
 Governor Harrison in his camp on the Tippecanoe, and 
 been utterly defeated. Many of his bravest chiefs and 
 warriors were slain, and the survivors, depressed and 
 sullen, escaped to their villages or were dispersed in the 
 forest. Thus in an hour the well wrought fabric of years 
 was dissipated. The wall along the border of the Indian 
 lands, behind which at his call the embattled nations 
 would stand, vanished like a mist. The surveyors re 
 sumed their work beyond the Wabash. 
 
 Embittered, enraged, the great leader repaired to Mai 
 den and accepted the terms offered him on the Huron. 
 These bound him not to strike, save in concert with the 
 British, who were to subsist his warriors and their fam 
 ilies. There assembled under his standard a thousand or 
 twelve hundred warriors, the flower of the immediate 
 Western nations, who, commanded by him, were more 
 than equal to the same number of soldiers however com-
 
 88 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 manded, in forest warfare. Encouraged by this English 
 ally, he now entertained the idea of driving the settlers 
 south of the Ohio. Pontiac's plan was to sweep them 
 east of the Alleghanies. 
 
 These remarkable men, Brock and Tecumseh, first met 
 on the arrival of the Englishman at Maiden, where they 
 stood a moment confronting each other. Mutual sur 
 prise, admiration, with the untaught etiquette which is 
 observed by many barbarians, kept them silent. Nearly 
 of the same age, and of equal stature, what the Eng 
 lishman gained in breadth and massiveness, was more 
 than compensated by grace and symmetry in the Indian. 
 
 Harrison was the finest looking Anglo-American Te 
 cumseh had met till now. He had come to hate while he 
 still admired and respected his foe. For the average 
 American he cherished contempt. With the person and 
 bearing of Brock, he was more than satisfied. With his 
 aid he would avenge Tippecanoe. He would recover the 
 lost lands. Harrison was in his mind ; by him he esli- 
 timated Brock. Brock was his superior, he thought. 
 
 " My brother is welcome," at length said the general, 
 as he stepped forward, his hand extended. 
 
 "Tecumseh is glad," responded the chief, taking the 
 offered hand. 
 
 Like is gifted to recognize its own in others. Brock 
 did not see an Indian, a savage, a barbarian; he recog 
 nized a broadly, highly endowed man, limited by his 
 birth and surroundings, which in many ways he had over 
 leaped. He found him a master of forest strategy, capa 
 ble of bold and striking designs, with the audacity which 
 he intended should mark this campaign. His time there 
 must be short. His Niagara frontier would soon reclaim 
 him. The American here must be effaced. Then a
 
 On tJie Eve. 89 
 
 lieutenant, with Tecumseh's aid, must not only hold this 
 border, but sweep the southern shore of Lake Erie. He 
 found the chief well advised of the strength and weak 
 ness of their enemy, and they concurred that it was fortu 
 nate Harrison was not opposed to them. Both expected 
 to meet him later. Their plans very nearly coincided, 
 which gave each confidence in the other. The points of 
 difference were soon arranged. Tecumseh would com 
 mand the Indians, under the orders of the British gen 
 eral. Brock did not contemplate a reconquest of the 
 North-west. He did not discourage the chief's broader 
 scheme. 
 
 " I ask two things more of my brother," said Brock. 
 " Will your warriors refuse fire-water ? " 
 
 "Till they recross the Wabash. Tecumseh requires 
 that." 
 
 "It is well. Our great English Father, the Prince 
 Regent, requires that all prisoners and wounded shall be 
 well treated ; and women and children of the enemy, and 
 their dwellings, be everywhere protected." 
 
 " Tecumseh has promised all this to his English 
 sister." 
 
 "Ah, the lovely Edith," the general's face lighting 
 warmly. " All men keep their promises to her. Now we 
 go to meet Colonel Proctor and his officers, and review 
 the soldiers ; and then we will meet your chiefs and war 
 riors. My brother will learn to like the colonel. He 
 will probably be left in command here." 
 
 They found him and his officers awaiting the general's 
 approach. Proctor was still young, a stout, person 
 able, handsome man, of the average height of English 
 men ; his face indicative of good-nature and good cheer. 
 A coarse-fibred man, as we shall 'abundantly see. The
 
 90 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 officers saluted; the colonel came forward to receive 
 the commander, well known to all. Brock's manners 
 were of the frankest, and by the small circle of the army 
 he was warmly loved. 
 
 Tecumseh knew Proctor and most of the gentlemen 
 present, and the general detected coldness and distance 
 in his manner, not only toward Proctor, but some of his 
 officers. Brock knew of the adventures of his agent in 
 Ohio, knew that the chief met Home there, whom he 
 thought well of, and was inclined to attribute his manner 
 as due to the reticence of a native in the presence of 
 Europeans, whose language he was not master of, nor was 
 he familiar with their customs. 
 
 The available force of English were under arms. Of 
 the very respectable body which wore the prescribed liv 
 ery of the Prince Regent, Tecumseh at once detected a 
 difference in the precision of action of a portion, from 
 the larger part. The most were automatic, these seemed 
 to move individually. The general was pleased with his 
 accuracy of perception, and explained that some three 
 hundred were really militia, now in scarlet, for the eye of 
 the American general, which might not be so quick as 
 that of his brother. Tecumseh appreciated the strategy, 
 the pleasantry, and the compliment. 
 
 " Well," said Proctor, who studied the effects, " they 
 wear their clothes well, d d if they don't now." 
 
 " Yes, they wear their clothes a d d sight better than 
 they dress" was Home's response. 
 
 Home was the wit of the western contingent, an article 
 never in excess in the British army, and estimated ac 
 cordingly. Brock smiled dubiously at the compliment to 
 his show, which was greeted with as much laughter as his 
 presence and the gravity of the occasion permitted.
 
 On the Eve. 91 
 
 " Devilish good," said the more appreciative Proctor. 
 " Deserves honorable mention. Do you good at the 
 Horse Guards." His want of appreciation of militia 
 marked his lack as a commander in dealing with a mixed 
 force. 
 
 The pageant over, Tecumseh in turn became host, and 
 led the general, Proctor, and their officers to his camp, a 
 cantonment of the wild soldiery of the forest. There 
 were Wyandots, Senecas of the Sandusky, Miamis, Kick- 
 apoos, Pottawattamies, Delawares, Shawanoese, Ottawas, 
 men of many nations. Here the general and his officers 
 held a reception. Colonels Elliott and McKee, names of 
 dread and hate in all the western American border, 
 presented the chiefs Round-head, Walk-in-the-Water, 
 Blackfish, Young Little-Turtle, Jim Blue-Jacket ; but the 
 great old chiefs, Black-hoof, The Crane, Turkey's tracks, 
 Blue-Jacket, Little-Turtle, some were dead, all were ab 
 sent. Still the array of fine athletic well made men, good 
 heads and gallant bearing, showed no falling off in the 
 manhood of the woods, and the leaders displayed a brave 
 following of warriors, most satisfactory to the eye of the 
 appreciative Brock. The - camp, its plan, arrangement 
 and rude police showed the presence of a careful, exact 
 ing hand, a ruler, as well as a chieftain in war. 
 
 Brock had hastily convened the upper Canadian Parlia 
 ment at Little York, awoke the members with an electric 
 flash, secured its sanction of his measure, called about 
 him the chivalry of the lower section of his province, hur 
 ried to Long Point, a large point of the war, where he 
 rendezvoused his force. Some three hundred embarked in 
 open boats, and made the voyage along the northern 
 coast. 
 
 He reached Maiden the night of August 13. Undis-
 
 92 The Tory s Daughter. 
 
 turbed by his enemy he planted his guns, opened on the 
 fort and palisaded town, had his interview with Tecum- 
 seh, reviewed the Maiden force and met the chiefs on the 
 fourteenth. The fifteenth was devoted to final prepara 
 tion for the invasion of the enemies' territory in turn. 
 He grasped the situation. His plan was audacious. In 
 other hands it would have been criticised. None thought 
 of aught but the promptest obedience to his orders. 
 
 One there was, his chief of civil government, privy 
 councillor, cabinet minister, man of all work, to whom 
 he opened himself, for his own relief. 
 
 Perhaps talking over his plan, giving himself the ben 
 efit of his own voice, placed it in clearer light. It also 
 occurred to him, that it might be well to place with 
 another, not only what he would do, but the reasons 
 which induced him to do it. It was Saturday night. 
 The week had proved too short by a day. He must 
 borrow Sunday and find what he seldom sought, a day of 
 rest later. He dismissed his aids and secretaries from 
 the room, and began : 
 
 " You look anxious, but remain discreetly silent, O 
 councillor, minister, grand chamberlain mine. I can't be 
 detained here. I improve the Macbethian rule : the 
 quicker it were done the more certain it will be to be 
 well done. 
 
 "The American General Dearborn, commanding be 
 low, entered into an armistice with my chief, the good 
 Prevost, tying his own hand and liberating me as I may 
 do anything beyond his department. It can't last long, 
 when it reaches his chief at Washington. When ended, 
 his six thousand soldiers may cross the Niagara. To my 
 officers I give orders. They might not like my reasons. 
 I never offer any," laughing. " A general who calls a
 
 On tJie Eve. 93 
 
 council of war, and speaks himself, unless to mislead, is 
 gone. So if he only knows the numbers, arms and dispo 
 sition of his enemy, even if he knows his plans, he is but 
 half informed. He must know know him well the man 
 who commands against him, the counsels and men back 
 of him. 
 
 " Here is a nation, several nations of farmers, artisans, 
 shop-keepers, with a rabbly government of demagogues, 
 unwarlike, no army, no navy, who after thirty years of 
 peace, rush into war with a powerful nation, armed at all 
 points, never at peace. Mr. Madison, a timid man, his 
 councils divided; the strongest states in opposition. In 
 tending to declare war, they send an old man, who has 
 seen no active service since his youth, two hundred miles 
 from their Urbanna, through the swampy woods with 
 two thousand men, four-fifths of whom are the rawest 
 militia. He is wholly unsupported. It would take half 
 his troops to keep his communications open. Michigan 
 has three or four thousand hunters and fishermen. He 
 cannot subsist his army two days, on all he can draw 
 from them. An advance with supplies, has been for 
 near two weeks on the river Raisin, forty miles away, 
 and he has made two vain attempts to communicate with, 
 and bring him into Detroit. See how the Washington 
 men managed. Ignorant that war was declared when 
 he struck the lake, he placed his baggage and papers, 
 as those of his officers, on the unarmed Cuyahoga. They 
 have not a gun on the lake, where I have the Queen, 
 Charlotte, Hunter, Lady Prevost forty guns ! Well, we, 
 better informed, captured his baggage and papers. I 
 know the inside weakness and mutinous spirit of his 
 militia officers and men. 
 
 " When he reached Detroit what did he do, and what
 
 94 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 will he now do? He landed on our side July 12 ; think 
 ing better of it, he returned Aug. 8. Why he came or 
 why he left, will be a question for Yankee historians ; per 
 haps for a court martial. He struck no blow, offered to 
 strike none. He issued a proclamation " 
 
 " Colonel Cass wrote that, " said his companion. 
 
 " The hero of the Tarantee ? " laughingly. 
 
 " So it is said." 
 
 " Well, we laugh at these raw young men. They mean 
 mischief. I am glad Cass is not in command over there 
 with Colonel Miller, and what he has of his 4th to 
 second him. They mean fight. They believe war is to 
 get at the enemy, and open at once. I expect these 
 youths worried the old man into coming over. He would 
 naturally expect Dearborn would demonstrate in his favor 
 would at least detain me on the Niagara. Well, while 
 here, he did not even reconnoitre our feeble works at 
 Maiden. Miller and his four hundred regulars, supported 
 by Cass, would have carried the fort in twenty minutes. 
 They fought the battle of Tippecanoe they and the Ken- 
 tuckians." 
 
 " Very well, Miller is over there now, is he not with 
 him ? " 
 
 "Of course, but he commands Miller the best of his 
 volunteers, with Colonels McArthur and Cass, are now 
 absent on the third effort to reach the Raisin. Why did 
 he permit me to plant my batteries ? You hear them 
 now," and they did. 
 
 " He refused your demand for a surrender yesterday, 
 General." 
 
 " Yes, after detaining my officers two hours. Then he 
 sent to me by them, what really was an apology for his 
 invasion. My war will differ from his. Then he has
 
 On the Eve. 95 
 
 heard of the fall of Mackinaw ; and to-day, he intercepted 
 Proctor's letter to Captain Roberts, now in possession 
 there, announcing that five thousand Indian warriors 
 are on the way to attack him at Detroit ! " 
 
 11 Why, don't he understand that was intended for 
 him ? " 
 
 " Not a glimmer of it ! Why, who would practise on 
 him ? " 
 
 " Poor old man ! " exclaimed the listener. 
 
 " The poorest of old men. I pity him. How the dema 
 gogues will rend him ! He thinks Tecumseh has twenty- 
 five hundred warriors. You know they crossed over to 
 day. He has but little over a thousand of all arms in and 
 about the fort. It is weak on the land side. We built it, 
 and just why we constructed it weak on that side and 
 unable to command the river, is not apparent, unless it 
 was anticipated that I would have to capture it to-mor 
 row. Now I shall cross at daylight, and land at Spring 
 Wells. The Queen Charlotte will cover my landing. If 
 I am not met at the landing, as I shall not be, the fort is 
 mine without a blow. If attacked at the landing, I will 
 carry the fort by assault. Have it I will. Audacity, if 
 you will the apprehensions of my enemy will make a 
 short and bloodless campaign an expedition rather." 
 
 " God grant it ; " fervently. 
 
 " Now, my 'dear Grayson, you know all about it. I 
 will not trouble you for an opinion. You are only asked 
 to clear that clouded face, and look and feel cheerful." 
 
 " I confess, General, your face, voice and manner are 
 very inspiring." 
 
 " Why should they not be ? I am thoroughly awake. 
 At the bottom there is always a reserve of good spirits." 
 
 " You'll need the reserve to-morrow, General."
 
 96 The Torys DaugJiter. 
 
 " They'll respond. I am never so light as on the eve, 
 except in the fray." 
 
 " I am glad to find the war so popular with the army," 
 said Grayson, with a look as if he would hear from the 
 general on the matter. 
 
 "Very, very." 
 
 " All war is, I suppose." 
 
 " Oh, that is a mistake. There is more in this." 
 
 " Well yes ? " finishing with a look. 
 
 " Now, you wish to punish a wicked though an old re 
 bellion. The army wants to wipe out an old disgrace. 
 We exchange buffets with the French, Austrians, Ger 
 mans, Dutch, Spanish ; lick and get licked ; give and 
 take. They are soldiers, trained to war, our equals. 
 The Americans were militia; we laid down our arms, 
 surrendered our swords to militia generals, Oh-h ! I 
 know I know. The French were with them finally ; but 
 the end would have been the same. Who was Washing 
 ton, Green, Starke, Morgan Oh, lots of them," shak 
 ing his head. 
 
 " Well, we shall find lots more like them," said Gray- 
 son. 
 
 " Of course if the war lasts. We must strike quick, 
 decisive blows. Your New England may rebel only it 
 will not. No, we'll strike hard, ringing blows, knock them 
 on to their knees that is our way my wa^'." 
 
 Grayson arose to go. " I am glad to have heard you, 
 General, on all these things. I wish to-morrow was 
 over," he added. 
 
 " Don't go. There are two or three things How is 
 the lovely Edith ? She is a true heroine. Makes heroes 
 of us common men."
 
 On the Eve. 97 
 
 " She is high hearted and full of hope, a little nervous. 
 She believes in the general, you know," laughing. 
 
 " God bless her ! what a man she gave me in Tecum- 
 seh ! " 
 
 " You don't know him yet, General." 
 
 " How did she make his acquaintance, get her influence 
 over him ? and she a woman though that may be it ; " 
 laughing. " She does about as she pleases with the 
 rest of us. Certain things are more potent with us 
 in women, than the same things are in men." 
 
 " Well, five or six years ago Oh, longer than that ; 
 over the other side, we were there one winter. Tecum- 
 seh had a sister there, Tecumapease, as remarkable in 
 her poor Indian woman way as he is. Edith was 
 teaching Indians to read when she was fourteen or fif 
 teen, it was a great thing with her. Tecumseh was there, 
 and she taught him, Tecumapease and Wasegoboah, her 
 husband. Both the men were then, like all the natives, 
 given to drink, and they came in one day half drunk. 
 The women were frightened all but Edith. She man 
 aged to control Tecumseh ; when he was sober she got 
 him to promise to never drink again. He never has. He 
 attributes his present position to this reformation which 
 was wholly her work. Though free from superstition he 
 regards her as specially gifted from heaven." 
 
 " What became of Tecumapease and her husband ? " 
 
 " They are there in the Indian camp or were, as is 
 Tecumseh's wife and son." 
 
 " And this Anita who is with you is she their daugh 
 ter ? " 
 
 " She is the sole child of the elder brother, Cheeseekau, 
 a very famous chief, slain in battle at the south-west, 
 when young. They lost their father while Tecumseh was
 
 98 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 a lad, and Cheeseekau had the care of him, trained him 
 and formed his character. Several things he dwelt 
 upon, until they made parts of the boy's nature. He 
 was always to tell the truth. Be brave and fearless 
 under all possible conditions. Always protect a prisoner, 
 always care for the aged, for helpless women and chil 
 dren.* These are cardinal points, and so far as we have 
 ever heard, he has strictly conformed to them." 
 
 " Really ! I am very glad to hear this. Tecumseh and 
 his niece are very light ; is there white blood in their 
 veins ? " 
 
 " Tecumseh says not a touch they are pure Indians. 
 He is the soul of honor, his word given, is kept in 
 letter and spirit. One thing ; he don't at heart like us 
 much better than he does the Americans. He thinks we 
 are more honorable, and are useful to him ; but he is an 
 Indian of very exceptional endowments." 
 
 " I fancied as much. Well, we will be true to him, 
 serve him in good faith, win his gratitude, and through 
 these his love. They are a remarkable family. The 
 younger, the Prophet, must be a remarkable man." 
 
 " Very, very. He is under a cloud now." 
 
 " Well," said the general, " my regards to Miss Gray- 
 son. I intended to call upon her, can hardly do so this 
 evening. I wanted to ask her of my gallant friend Home. 
 There is something in him that might enlist a girl's fancy, 
 though after all he is commonplace, is'nt just well 
 Is there a man deserving her ? That is not the way to 
 put it. Of course there is not ; but a man fit to mate 
 with her ? O dear ! Tecumseh is married, and I am 
 rough and old;" laughing. " Your rescuer of the Ohio 
 
 * Drake's " Life of Tecumseh."
 
 On the Eve. 99 
 
 woods may prove to be the man ; who knows ? Some of 
 them are fine fellows." 
 
 " I suspect he is over the other side now," said Gray- 
 son. 
 
 " Ah ! well, that would be interesting. You may have 
 an opportunity of serving him ; who can tell ! " laughing. 
 
 " I hope he is not there. Of course we have never 
 heard a whisper of him since our strange parting, on 
 their Huron." 
 
 " Well now, Grayson, you and the girls will see us move 
 in the morning; and hold yourselves ready to cross over." 
 "If I win without blood, you will want to go. If we 
 assault, your Indians may need looking to. You are all 
 powerful with them. Not for Canada, would I have a 
 prisoner harmed." 
 
 " Only win, General ; only win and we will be with 
 you. Tecumseh will control his warriors ; don't fear on 
 that score." 
 
 Then they parted for the night.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MISSING. 
 
 THAT Saturday saw the end of two busy days of in 
 tense planning and preparations on the English 
 bank of the Detroit. The end of another week of wait 
 ing, vacillation, of anxiety that became agony, on the 
 American side. Its chief renounced all effort to regrasp 
 the conditions of his own fate, and abandoned himself to 
 what might happen. Miller with the 4th regulars were 
 in the fort. Colonel Findlay and his militia, the 3d 
 Ohio, with those of Michigan, were outside. Late Friday 
 afternoon, Colonels McArthur and Cass, with three 
 hundred picked men of the ist and 2d Ohio, were 
 hurried off for a third attempt to meet and escort Captain 
 Brush, his command, cattle and stores, from Frenchtown 
 to Detroit, where were still ample supplies. They were 
 started without rations, which were to follow them. 
 None were sent. Instead of which, the next morning, an 
 express rider was hurried after them, with orders to-re- 
 turn. He found them weary and hungry, bivouacked in 
 a wide swamp, where darkness overtook them, when at 
 the call of their officers they arose and turned cheerily 
 back. 
 
 At Detroit the shore batteries were replying to the 
 British, and two 24-pounders placed to sweep the 
 approach to the fort. Major Jessup divined Brock's 
 
 IOO
 
 Missing. 101 
 
 landing-place, Spring Wells, four miles below the fort, 
 and asked permission to plant guns there and oppose 
 him. This was refused. 
 
 Later he asked for 150 men, then for 100, to cross over 
 and spike the enemy's guns. The general would think 
 of it, but came to no conclusion, and such of them as his 
 own did not dismount boomed the short night through. 
 Under its cover, Tecumseh placed his Indians in the 
 shelter of the forest, from the landing to the rear of the 
 town, to cut off a possible retreat. And so the August 
 night wore on. The next day was not to be a day of rest, 
 a Sabbath of any kind. 
 
 In the vanishing twilight of that dawn, the English 
 crossed. Brock standing erect, conspicuous, in full dress, 
 in the bow of the leading boat, the most exposed man of 
 the expedition ; a third of his soldiers were militia. He 
 knew what eyes would be upon him from the wooded 
 bank. His chivalrous bearing was appreciated by 
 Tecumseh. 
 
 " See ! see ! " exclaimed the emulous chief. " A war 
 rior in his canoe, erect, leading the way to battle ! " * 
 
 As the general anticipated, he found the landing un 
 guarded, and no enemy even to witness his debarkation. 
 Leisurely his troops breakfasted on the enemy's ground, 
 were formed for the advance, the commander conspicu 
 ously alone, many yards in lead, with his right on the 
 river, his left protected by Tecumseh. Thus the high 
 hearted column moved to the attack. It was a gallant 
 show, those eight hundred soldiers in scarlet, in the 
 morning sun, with banners and shining arms, the men 
 of the 41 st in front. 
 
 * Chron. of Canada.
 
 IO2 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 Findlay informed his commander of the advance of his 
 enemy, and asked permission to attack with his regiment 
 and the Michigan militia, which was refused. Instead, 
 he and all the troops outside were ordered within the 
 already crowded fort. 
 
 On came the red column with gleaming arms, the 
 veterans as if under the eye of the Regent in Hyde Park. 
 On and on, till they were almost within range of the 24's. 
 The gunners lit their linstocks. They were within range. 
 The gunners became restive, eager. The alert young 
 officer in command, his trained eye measuring the lessen 
 ing distance, restraining the soldiers with brandished 
 saber, saw his foe almost within his predetermined range 
 for the deadliest effect, turning his eye to the fort for any 
 signal. Already the returning McArthur and Cass had 
 gained a distant view, made their disposition for attack, 
 and a vain effort to communicate with the fort. They 
 noted the ominous silence of the fort. To them the 
 British army seemed delivered into their hands. The 
 first gun would be their signal to advance. It was nevtr 
 fired. Instead of the thunder of the 24/5 a white flag was 
 displayed on the fort. Had the earth opened they would 
 have been no more amazed. Had it swallowed them it 
 would have been a welcome refuge. 
 
 All night, all the morning and forenoon, the miserable 
 man called general at the fort, gave signs of sore dis 
 tress. Away from possible succor, disappointed by Dear 
 born, the woods teeming with Indians, thousands more 
 of whom were hurrying from the North, fierce O jib ways, 
 Chippewas and Tawas. Among the women in the fort 
 were his own daughter and her children ; the fort must 
 fall after maddening battle, so he reasoned, or rather 
 these were the spectres of his imagination, in his inability
 
 Missing. 103 
 
 to reason. He sought no counsel, spoke no word, sat on 
 the ground, with his back to the wall, a pitiable spectacle 
 of distracted weakness. Finally the one gun of the 
 enemy, which his own battery left uncrippled to them, sent 
 a solid shot, which came bounding over the fort's wall, 
 dashed into the officer's house, and into a group of men 
 and women, killing two or three, followed by the shrieks 
 of the surviving women, his only casualty. This brought 
 the end. The v/hite cloth was at once displayed, and 
 the unhappy man's own son was hurried forth with an 
 offer of surrender. 
 
 The young officer in command of the 24/5 uttered a cry 
 of anguish and dashed his sword upon the ground. The 
 advancing column halted in amazement. The terms of 
 surrender, including the territory of Michigan, were soon 
 arranged, and at twelve meridian the column advanced to 
 its formal conquest ; the solemnity of investiture with parade 
 and circumstance to be celebrated at noon of the next day. 
 
 The conception and execution of his conquest was a 
 brilliant and important stroke of generalship by the 
 British commander, and the honors becomingly worn by 
 him. He appreciated the part borne by his ally, which 
 he evinced in a striking manner when they met at the 
 noon of this day in front of the fort, in presence of vic 
 tors and vanquished. 
 
 Advancing to the chief, extending his hand, he said : 
 
 " The general commanding congratulates his brother, 
 General Tecumseh, of the British army, on the success of 
 the allies. To mark my appreciation of his character 
 and conduct, I ask him to accept and wear this from me." 
 Speaking these words he untied the splendid scarlet 
 silk sash from his own person, and deftly invested the 
 slender waist of the noble figure of Shawanoe with it. The
 
 IO4 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 chief gracefully yielded his person to the gaudy decora 
 tion, in dignified silence. When adjusted, he drew his 
 form up, wearing his crimson cap with its war eagle's 
 feather, showing the prized cincture to advantage, and 
 said with simple grace, his voice betraying slight signs 
 of emotion : 
 
 " My great brother makes glad the heart of Tecum- 
 seh." Then turning to the Wyandot chief, Round-head, 
 he undid the sash from his own form, saying : " Here is 
 one older and more deserving ; Round-head should wear 
 this : " which he placed about the robust loins of the 
 delighted chief. The act was greeted with applause, led 
 by the admiring Brock. 
 
 One thing further. The politic general proclaimed a 
 bestowal, so far as the power rested with him, of the 
 territory of Michigan upon his allies. He retained the 
 prisoners. Public property was subject to division. 
 The rights of personal property to remain inviolate. 
 The inhabitants and all non-combatants, to be protected 
 with care. 
 
 So fell Detroit, the American army and flag. 
 
 The American people were never able to account for 
 this amazing result, even by supposing the twin crimes of 
 treason and cowardice. There must be a third bargain 
 and sale for gold. A wave of consternation, mingled with 
 shame and wrath, swept around the southern border of 
 Lake Erie, southerly, startling the men of Ohio, Ken 
 tucky, Pennsylvania, Indiana, and reaching the Capital. 
 Mr. Madison's government revenged its own weakness 
 and want of care upon the head of its officer, whose im 
 becility only equalled its own. Another commander had 
 to be named. The eyes of the nation were upon one not 
 yet discernible by Mr. Madison and his secretary of war
 
 Missing: 105 
 
 (Dr. Eustis), who were to look for yet another elderly 
 fossil, that other battles and forts and armies might be 
 lost on Michigan soil ; while the peers of him who 
 surrendered Detroit should be left to meander on their 
 ways, after their kind. 
 
 One, the youth in command of the 24/8, did not answer 
 the roll-call of prisoners. He was reported missing. 
 One of the best known of the young officers of the expe 
 ditionary force, there was special inquiry for him, and 
 some talk of his disappearance. Generally it was sup 
 posed he had escaped, and unless cut off by the Indians, 
 would reach Captain Brush at Frenchtown. The last 
 certainly known of him, he was noticed at his post near 
 the guns, apparently greatly dejected. 
 
 " He was certainly included in the surrender," said an 
 English officer, who seemed to know something of him, 
 and interested in his fate. 
 
 The cross of St. George floated peacefully over the fort 
 as in the day of rightful dominion, won from St. Louis. 
 Tecumseh remained with a strong force of warriors on 
 their recovered soil, knowing as well as the royal giver 
 the vicissitudes of his title. Scarlet guards succeeded the 
 blue, in larger numbers ; otherwise Detroit appeared 
 much as on the day before. The warm August night, 
 darkened the not remote forest ; the tender moon hung 
 its thin crescent near the western horizon, the stars were 
 taking their sentinel places in the sky, and innumerable 
 crickets and katy-dids were piping their shrill notes in 
 the meadows. 
 
 Several of the British officers, and men of the civil ser 
 vice, were permitted to return to their quarters. Of 
 these were Mr. Grayson, Edith, Anita, and two or three 
 ladies, wives of the officers, of the 4131. Mr. Grayson
 
 io6 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 had, during the day, experienced every emotion of anxiety, 
 triumph, exultation, and supreme satisfaction. This 
 bloodless victory, won in the face of odds and difficulties, 
 that no other leader would have dared to brave, was to 
 him a heaven-sent omen of the war. There had been an 
 awful decline in American manhood in a single genera 
 tion, a little humiliating to him, of the same strain. His 
 emotions had been fully shared by Edith, as women 
 share in feelings common to the sexes. Both were now 
 under the influence of the reaction certain to be experi 
 enced by persons of fine organizations. Neither said 
 much on the way down the river. Both had a peculiar 
 cause for concern, which to Edith was a source of de 
 pression. Anita, her constant companion, fell into her 
 sister's mood, and like her was grave and silent also. 
 
 At the late supper of the returned party, where Edith 
 was conspicuous, she was at her best. If less joyous and 
 gay of spirit than in the idyl days of the southern woods, 
 thoughtfulness now imparted the charm of character to 
 her face, which had rather gained than lost in maiden 
 purity and beauty. Something of appealingness was 
 in her eyes, which many felt, though they could not de 
 scribe. The gentlemen all friends, admirers, and some 
 of them beside Home, lovers of hers, were in rollicking 
 spirits, as loud and reckless of voice, words, and manner, 
 as the presence of three or four women of position and 
 refinement permitted. Drunk with the exhilaration of 
 success, and two or three of them half drunk in the usual 
 way, there was boastful, gratulatory talk of the incidents 
 of the day, the prospect of the war, with depressing com 
 ments upon the character and conduct of the enemy. 
 
 " Well," said Robinson (son of a refugee) to Mr. Gray- 
 son, " our countrymen persuaded the royal negotiators
 
 Missing. 107 
 
 that lakes and rivers were preferable boundaries, and 
 the general has corrected their blunder of yielding Mich 
 igan." 
 
 " It was a blunder, our ever giving up the posts," 
 added Glegg. " Now we'll man Fort Miami. We built 
 that, did we not, Mr. Grayson ? " 
 
 " Dr. Gray, of Ohio, permit me to correct you, Glegg," 
 said McDonald, which produced a laugh, in which the 
 subject of the pleasantry slightly participated. 
 
 "Governor Simcoe built it in '93, mainly to defend 
 against the north-western tribes, old allies of the French 
 who had a post there," he replied to Glegg. " Later we 
 used it to countenance them," he added. 
 
 "Or if Mr. Grayson will permit, to discountenance 
 them," added Home. " When they were defeated and 
 pursued by the Americans at the Rapids, they found the 
 fort shut in their faces, with the words from the com 
 mandant, ' Go away, my children, you got so much paint 
 on your faces,' as Little Turtle rendered it," followed by 
 another laugh. 
 
 " It's a wonder old Wayne didn't storm it," said Rob 
 inson. 
 
 "He would, had the Indians been admitted," added 
 Muir. 
 
 " Our countrymen, as you call them, Mr. Robinson, 
 were content with a line south of the St. Lawrence ; we 
 will give them one from the south end of Lake Michigan 
 to the Maumee. They may be glad to take it now," said 
 Grayson. "Tecumseh may insist on the Ohio though. 
 How he does despise the Americans ! " he added. 
 
 " No wonder he despises 'em ! As we have already 
 taken so much, why not claim the Ohio? They'll con 
 sent," said Home.
 
 io8 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " If they don't, by Jove, the general will take the whole 
 an' give 'er to old Round-head," piped in a clerk. 
 
 "Yes, and then clean out old granny Dearborn, and 
 hand New York over to young Brant and the Mohawks," 
 added another. 
 
 " All in good time, boys," said Evans. " I presume 
 this little matter which took him three days off his 
 hands, the general will return, leaving Proctor in com 
 mand here. He'll be a general soon eh, Home? " 
 
 " He and General Tecumseh. Won't the Indian show 
 off a laced coat, epaulets, and plumed chapeau ? What do 
 you say to that, Miss Grayson ? " to Edith. 
 
 " They will not disguise him, Captain Home. What an 
 act his giving the sash to Round-head was ! That was a 
 stroke of genius," she replied. 
 
 " Not another man in the world would have thought of 
 it ; not even Bonaparte," said her father. 
 
 " No one who knew Round-head, would they, Anita ? " 
 said Edith, turning to her sister. 
 
 "If saw him in his camp as we did," replied the 
 girl now improved in her English, knitting her dark 
 brow. 
 
 " The young ladies have suspicions still I see," said 
 Home, with affected sarcasm, to Mr. Grayson. 
 
 "And memories," added the Saxon maiden. 
 
 " By the way, that reminds me who do you suppose I 
 saw over there to-day ? " said the doomed Home to 
 Edith. " The fellow in command of the guns you know ; " 
 to McDonald. Home as some of the others drank 
 recklessly. 
 
 " Which he didn't fire," added a lieutenant of militia. 
 
 "Which he didn't fire," repeated Home.
 
 Missing. 109 
 
 " For which thank God and his general," said Muir, 
 with real fervor. 
 
 " For once they concurred," observed Glegg. 
 
 " A really brave man one thirsting for gore might 
 have said the word, notwithstanding the flutter of an old 
 table-cloth, and that none of the cleanest," added 
 Home. 
 
 "That speech from a British officer, would cause sur 
 prise on any other occasion," said Grayson, gravely. 
 
 " Had you sent him word he might have run, as you 
 said he did once," said Edith to the captain playfully. 
 
 " Ah ! you have heard of Captain Dudley, of the Ameri 
 can army," he said, recklessly. 
 
 " I saw him to-day," she answered. 
 
 " Indeed ! You may know where he is," said Home. 
 
 " I greatly wish I did," was her emphatic answer. 
 
 " If you'd seen him as we did, while at ease, you would 
 have seen the funniest specimen of a cock with his comb 
 cut and feathers down, that even his country ever pro 
 duced," said her chief admirer. 
 
 "How was it, Captain ?" asked the officer of militia. 
 
 "Captain Home will do it justice. I trust he will 
 spare us now," said Edith, with quiet dignity, while Anita 
 sat, her wide eyes under her brows of jet flashing on 
 Home. 
 
 "Was this Captain Dudley the man you met on the 
 river, in Ohio, at the time the time you know ? " asked 
 a lady friend of Edith. 
 
 "He is the gentleman." 
 
 " You came near near I've understood excuse me," 
 said McDonald to Grayson, wishing to guide the talk 
 away from this incident of the day. 
 
 " This is the young man who rescued me from drown-
 
 no The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 ing under circumstances showing he possessed very 
 heroic qualities," said the gentleman, a tremor in his 
 voice, moved by recalling the incident. 
 
 " This occurred in the presence and under the eyes of 
 the senior captain of the 41 st, of foot," added Edith, 
 in her serene way. 
 
 Home, if not sobered by these speeches, was brought 
 to an apprehension of his present position. His suit to 
 Edith had for months been the theme of conversation in 
 army circles and of society at York. He now arose from 
 his seat and approached the perfectly composed young 
 lady with an air of humility. 
 
 "Captain Home, before you say what you are about 
 to, I will add one thing. On the occasion of last 
 autumn, without fault of yours, you were compelled to 
 appear at disadvantage almost as great as you do now. 
 This American gentleman relinquished his quarters to us, 
 slept on the ground, distinguished us with care and atten 
 tions, conducted us to the Huron, and you will bear him 
 witness, that by no word, act, or manner, did he seem 
 aware that you had not shown the utmost heroism. Is 
 not this strictly true ? " 
 
 " It is," he replied, in an abject voice. 
 
 " Father, have I not spoken truly ? " 
 
 " Truly, my child," moved to tears. 
 
 " Anita, my sister, you know more of this than do I. 
 Does Edith speak truly ? " 
 
 The Indian girl started from her seat, ran to Edith, 
 clasped her neck with an arm. 
 
 "Truly! truly! My uncle Tecumseh guarded the 
 young chief, himself from river Huron," she said, her 
 eyes flashing scorn on the humiliated officer. Her words 
 of Tecumseh made a sensation. Nothing had ever been
 
 Missing. 1 1 1 
 
 heard of the matter underlying this statement, though the 
 main incidents of the mission had been told and talked of. 
 
 " Captain Home," said the young lady, extending her 
 hand to him, " I forgive you." 
 
 " Miss Grayson, I shall ever deplore my forgetfulness. 
 Your gracious pardon is a punishment," he said, and said 
 it well. Raising the hand and bending low, he was per 
 mitted to touch it with his lips. 
 
 The scene caused some sensation ; two or three of the 
 company, with tact, led away from it. Not wholly from 
 the missing American officer, who for the time, and was 
 long to remain an object of interest, with many of the 
 present enemies of his country. Some discussion was 
 had. as to his present fortune. Muir thought if he had 
 attempted an escape he would fall into the hands of the 
 Indians. Grayson said if they brought him in, Tecumseh 
 would at once liberate him. 
 
 The officers thought if he escaped after the surrender 
 and before rendering himself a prisoner, he was guilty of 
 a grave military offence. Doubtless Brock would over 
 look it. Some would regret to see him fall into Proctor's 
 hands. He had declared his purpose of dealing severely 
 with all the Yankees who fell into his hands, till they paid 
 some observance to the rule of civilized warfare. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Mr. Grayson, " you surprise me. 
 When was it a crime for a prisoner of war to escape ? 
 He may even slay his guards to effect it. These are the 
 incidents of war. In what worse position can this officer 
 be who after his general has relinquished his command of 
 him, and before ours has reduced him to custody, if he 
 walks himself off ? My only regret at his escape is, that 
 he will notify the American advance on the Raisin." 
 
 " Young Elliott will look out for that," replied Muir.
 
 112 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 He then went on to discuss the laws of honor, which bind 
 an officer to render himself a true prisoner, after which 
 he may escape if he can. 
 
 Grayson ridiculed this, unless he was to be tried in a 
 court of honor, unknown to law. 
 
 " You may say he was guilty of disobedience to his 
 general's orders, who surrendered him. Proctor will 
 hardly try him for that. He will be safe with the Ameri 
 cans," he said. 
 
 Home would be sorry to see him in Proctor's hands, 
 and looked up to meet the large eyes of Anita on him. 
 
 Then they separated for the night. Later, father and 
 daughter had a conversation, in which Edith related the 
 incident of seeing Dudley during the day. Her party was 
 opposite the fort at the time the English column ap 
 peared on its advance. At the showing of the white flag, 
 they took a boat and pushed across. Grayson and two 
 or three gentlemen went on toward the fort. Edith, 
 Anita, and two or three ladies remained near the river 
 below the fort ; not far from the guns, Edith observed the 
 young officer without recognizing him, walking backward 
 and forward restively. He finally approached near where 
 Anita and herself were standing, unconscious of their pres 
 ence. 
 
 "When near us," she said, "Anita pressed my hand, 
 whispering ' Dudley, young chief ! ' I never was so 
 startled never can be again. He saw us, lifted his cap 
 to us, but said nothing. His face was pale and rigid. 
 He stood irresolutely ; then as if a new thought struck him 
 he turned and walked away. This was before the cere 
 mony, for Anita managed to tell or get to her uncle, that 
 Dudley was here.
 
 Missing. 113 
 
 " Why did not you go to him, and take him in 
 your charge ? " 
 
 " Oh, I could not move ; all he did for us, our practices 
 on him, were on me. Before I was myself he disap 
 peared. He could not approach me ; all he had to do at 
 that moment was to walk away as it seems to me." 
 
 " I deplore his going." 
 
 " What had he before him but long captivity here ? " 
 
 " Why, I should have managed that." 
 
 " How could he know who and what we are but 
 enemies? Liberty, duty, called him away. I am glad he 
 has gone for gone he has." 
 
 " Well, it is the one thing that mars the otherwise per 
 fect day. We shall hear something more of this to-mor 
 row noon, over there," added the father. 
 
 " Oh, I don't want to be there ! " said the girl, sadly. 
 " I can't bear to see their humiliation." 
 
 "Oh, dear! What must Philip Dudley think if he can 
 see the strait to which his rebellion has reduced his 
 son ? " cried the father. 
 
 " His son ? Do you know, father, this thing begins to 
 look to me like an epoch in human history, which had to 
 be, and your rebels were the heroes or victims of it, 
 and not the responsible doers of crime." 
 
 " Well, well, my child," a little impatiently, " heroes or 
 victims, their doings bore to them the bitter fruit of this 
 da)' to them and their children the first of unnum 
 bered similar days. I would save this child, God 
 knows." 
 
 " I know you would, and I shall fervently pray that 
 all may be ruled for his true best good, as I believe it 
 will be." 
 
 Then with a silent kiss she withdrew. 
 8
 
 H4 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 At the ceremony of the next noon, Captain Dudley 
 was not present, nor did anything transpire of his where 
 abouts or fortune. If any of the red allies had informa 
 tion of him it did not reach the public.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 THE SHAWANOE'S GIFT. 
 
 DUDLEY when ordered to the expedition into Can 
 ada, was assigned to command the small body of 
 dragoons, a part of it. On the return to the American 
 side of the Detroit, his horses were idle, and he had a 
 position in charge of the guns placed in the shore battery. 
 His familiarity with all arms made him available for any 
 duty. Naturally his association was with Miller and 
 his officers. He was well liked by McArthur, Cass and 
 Findlay, to whom he was of much use in their new 
 duties. He was aware of the dissensions between them 
 and the general in command. He could not long 
 remain blind to the unfortunate man's faults. He early 
 saw that failure would attend the enterprise. Gay, light- 
 hearted, alert, showing high qualities, he was esteemed 
 by the men of both branches of the little army. 
 
 That the fort could be successfully defended, that 
 Brock could be met in the field, he had every confidence. 
 That his commander would surrender without a battle, a 
 siege, when .he finally huddled his men into the fort, had 
 not entered his head. When restraining his eager sol 
 diers at the 24*3 his eye caught the ghostly gleam of 
 white, on the wall of the fort ; it was an illusion of vision, 
 and a second look was necessary. The apprehension of 
 its purpose struck him like a blow. The act of dashing
 
 n6 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 down his emblem of command was instinctive. For an 
 instant it was a horrid dream, in which everything 
 waveringly floated. The advancing red column flared 
 and reeled, then halted. The world grew steady, and 
 his alert mind noted and knew the significance of things. 
 He saw the young aid leave the fort, pass not far from 
 him, and the aids of the British general go forward to 
 meet him, and then they retired to arrange, write out, and 
 sign the terms. 
 
 This was a new position for him ; he had no experience, 
 knew of no rule for subordinates, when his chief had 
 abandoned the command of his own army, and the 
 general of the enemy had not taken it up. He was in 
 the transition period. His first distinct thought of him 
 self was one of almost agonizing regret that he had not 
 opened fire on his enemy; a battle would then have been 
 inevitable. His better instinct arose against this. It 
 would have been a useless destruction. Surrender by the 
 fatuous commander was inevitable. What was he to do ? 
 He thought of his poor men, to whom he now turned, 
 young, fresh, bright, nervous, athletic fellows ; men to 
 follow an officer to an assault with cheers, or stand and 
 fight steadily and coolly, and die by their guns. He saw 
 they now stood ghastly and silent, several with indignant 
 tears in their eyes. Some of them turned to him. 
 
 " My brave boys, you see it is all over," he said. " The 
 enemy commands us now. Stand at ease and wait till 
 they come for you." Then he turned back, picked up his 
 sword, replaced it ; unbuckling his belt he removed it and 
 placed it under his left arm, walking away some yards 
 that the soldiers might not see in his face signs of the 
 distress he felt. 
 
 He took a rapid survey of the immediate situation.
 
 The Shawanoes Gift. 117 
 
 He knew messengers had been sent to recall McArthur 
 and Cass, who would return, and turning to the line 
 of their approach he thought he saw signs of their 
 presence. They had not then reached Brush at French- 
 town. Means must be found to save him. 
 
 The column of the enemy advanced. He estimated 
 their numbers. Terms had been adjusted. Walking, 
 studying, lost in thought, he moved toward the fort, saw 
 near him a group of three or four women. He changed 
 his course a little to avoid them, drew nearer, looked. 
 There stood Edith Gray and Anita ! Still he was not 
 greatly surprised. The power of being surprised was not 
 yet fully restored. He lifted his hat. Edith was there. 
 She was of the enemy, was there to see the humiliation of 
 the Americans. A light flashed back on the events of 
 the Ohio woods and rivers. He noticed that she saw 
 him made no note or sign of recognition, save a look of 
 surprise. He would not meet her. She was some yards 
 distant. He would escape. The thought and the certainty 
 of doing it came together. He turned away. The 
 column had passed ; all the stragglers hurried forward. 
 The river came into his mind. Some one would guard 
 the boats. The armed ships would have to be passed. 
 He dismissed it. Meantime he moved south-westerly 
 across the open. No one called to him or interrupted 
 him. Why not keep on ? The ground was nearly level. 
 He passed behind a breadth of growing corn, which 
 covered him from eyes near the fort, or in that direction. 
 He had his watch, a small compass, a pair of pocket 
 pistols and sword, and wore undress cavalry uniform. Why 
 not walk on ? If seen he was not remote. So far as the 
 British soldiers were concerned he was safe. The trouble 
 was the Indians. They must be in force in the wood he
 
 Ii8 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 was approaching; at least if they kept pace with the 
 column, he should pass near their rear. Of course they 
 must by this time know of the surrender, but doubtless 
 Brock would permit only a few of the chiefs to enter the 
 fort. He knew his old friends Round-head and Walk- 
 in-the-Water were with them, who would remember him. 
 He thought it inevitable that he would be seen by some 
 of the Indians. 
 
 As he moved now, seemingly uncertain, he came upon a 
 sink of land, thickly grown with tall ferns, from which the 
 summer sun had drawn the water. He might have 
 avoided it : he did not choose to ; nor did he linger in 
 it. When he emerged from the other side, an acquaint 
 ance would not have known him without study, and would 
 then have said he was daft. He went out astride his 
 sheathed sword, like a small boy, carrying his plume in 
 his hand, wearing his cap awry, the frond of a fern in the 
 place of the plume, his coat fantastically buttoned, and 
 wearing a woe-begone expression of face. From this 
 point he moved to reach the not remote wood, in a very 
 indirect way. Had he seemed to want cover, he had but 
 to remain in the swamp, or follow it to the forest within 
 an edge of which much of its body was a part. Various 
 impulses seemed momentarily to control him. A stranger 
 by his arms and dress would know his calling ; from his 
 striking pantomime, he might have supposed the disaster 
 to the American arms had stricken him with madness. 
 Finally he gained the wood, and seemed distressed by it ; 
 ran out and looked up at the trees in amazement, grew 
 reconciled, and calmy re-entered the shade, finding it 
 grateful, as it certainly was. After some solemn and 
 effective pantomine, consisting in part of a reverent ap 
 peal to Heaven, he entered the wood, and walked some
 
 The Shcrcvanoe s Gift. 119 
 
 distance directly forward, until he came upon the thread 
 of a small run from a spring. From this he recoiled as 
 if in fear, walked up and down its tiny course, made many 
 ineffective attempts to leap it ; finally, with a bound five 
 feet high, he gained the other bank, where he stood a 
 moment with uncovered head, and returned thanks as 
 for a wonderful escape. A new impulse seized him, 
 under which he laid down on the little brook's margin, 
 permitting his feet to dangle over the low bank and bathed 
 his boots in its tide. 
 
 Whatever may be said of his acting, alive to impres 
 sions and refraining from all examination of signs or indi 
 cations, he was strongly impressed as by assured human 
 presence, and remembered that by experiment he had 
 more than once been awakened by a person noiselessly 
 entering his room, their mere presence acting on his 
 sleeping senses. He was under this impression, and 
 labored the subtle problem. He had mentally peo 
 pled the wood with Indians. This idea may in turn have 
 acted upon his fancy, rather than the mere atmosphere. 
 However he turned it, the impression deepened. Eyes 
 of men were on him. This was strengthened by the air 
 of the wood itself. Not a bird or squirrel in sight. 
 Though ripe summer, not a chipmunk sent his metallic 
 chirp, however subdued, through the forest. He might 
 as well await things here. He would gladly have drunk 
 of the limpid water, literally at his feet. Its coolness to 
 them did in a way refresh him. He could not go on 
 safely if permitted till nightfall. He might as well play 
 quiescence for the time, and await events. Already the 
 shadows pointed north-easterly, nearly eastward. Some 
 degrees more southwardly must they incline, ere they 
 would melt into the shadow of the earth itself. He was
 
 I2O The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 certain more than one pair of eyes were on him, and did 
 his best to realize the character of one made sacred by 
 the touching finger of the Great Spirit. Visions come to 
 the thus favored in sleep. As he lay thinking, the drowsy 
 hum of flies in the sun, the tinkle of the rivulet, induced 
 drowsiness, and he did sleep, really. His last con 
 scious thought was of Edith. Then came visions of the 
 Indians, as he passed the margin of dreamland. 
 
 He awoke was it a fading form of a vanishing dream, 
 or a vanishing Indian of his awakening ? Whichever it 
 was, it disappeared, yet brought the useful consciousness 
 of his position. He drew his well washed boots to dry 
 land and looked about, thinking that looking round 
 would now be in order, as a visited intellect. The woods 
 were full of the cool shadow in which the charm of 
 approaching night was being wrought. 
 
 Once or twice he heard a shrill note, like the peep of 
 a hylode, answered apparently by one or two fainter, 
 from different points and more distant. It was not the 
 unseasonableness of the notes which suggested they were 
 signals. He supposed he was in an Indian haunted 
 forest, and so interpreted these. He arose, turned a 
 little toward the near clearing, from which came the 
 broad sharp shafts of outer day, where his eyes fell upon 
 the stately figure of a warrior chief, in battle costume, 
 not a dozen yards distant. Light was still strong under 
 the trees. Though a warrior, his aspect was pacific. 
 The war paint had been washed from his fine face and 
 shaved head ; though armed, tomahawk and knife were in 
 his belt. When the eye of Dudley met his, he raised 
 his hands to show they were empty and passing half 
 the distance between them he paused. 
 
 " Dudley ? " he said as asking the name.
 
 Tlie SJiawanocs Gift. 12 1 
 
 " I am Dudley," answered the youth, smiling. 
 
 The chief advanced to within two yards, saying 
 
 " Brooch medal ? " as if asking. 
 
 " My brother means the brooch, given by Shawanoe ? " 
 
 The answer was a nod, and extending a hand for it. 
 
 Dudley removed it from his neck, drew it from its case, 
 and handed it to the chief. The instant it met his eye 
 he ejaculated, " Good ! Good ! " 
 
 " Dudley no crazy ! Dudley no crazy. Him make 
 crazy," he said, almost laughing at the idea. 
 
 The young man's answer was a gay, light-hearted 
 laugh. 
 
 " Dudley big chief, very big chief," as if this flight of 
 strategy was a master stroke of genius. 
 
 At this point, two fine Indian youths, in the panoply 
 of war, drew near, each from points whence came the 
 answering signal. They paused within two or three 
 yards, were approached by the chief and shown the 
 decoration. He also said something to them in their 
 dialect, and from their manner Dudley supposed he gave 
 them to understand the character he had assumed. They 
 stepped a little nearer, passed around him in different 
 directions to take in the full measure of a man equal to 
 such a stroke. 
 
 At a signal from the chief they then withdrew out of 
 hearing, when he approached, and with his hand on his 
 bosom, said with gravity 
 
 " Wa-se-go-bo-ah Shaw-an-oe brother." 
 
 "You are Shawanoe's brother?" A nod. "Your 
 name is Wasegoboah ? " 
 
 " Good ! English' Stand-Firm.' " 
 
 " Your name means stand firm ? " 
 
 " My brother says true."
 
 122 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 11 My brother glads Dudley's heart. He trusts Stand- 
 Firm," extending his hand, which the chief cordially 
 took ; as he did so he returned the medal. 
 
 " My brothar go Frenchtown ? " waving his hand to 
 the south. 
 
 " Dudley would go to Frenchtown," he answered. 
 
 "Wasegoboah go with Dudley. Nothing hurt Dudley." 
 
 " Stand-Firm go with Dudley ? " showing his pleasure. 
 
 " When night come. Tecumseh send Wasegoboah." 
 
 " Tecumseh sent you to go with Dudley ? " 
 
 " Good. Anita tell Tecumseh." 
 
 " Anita told Tecumseh of Dudley ? " 
 
 "Um," with a nod. "Go by river. Canoe. There, 
 sun-rise." 
 
 " Will reach there at sunrise ? " 
 
 " Um," with a nod. 
 
 The chief beckoned the young men to him, and had 
 words in their tongue with them, when they immediately 
 started together, and moved away noiselessly toward the 
 river. The chief made a motion of his hand toward the 
 deeper wood, and Dudley readjusted his dress, save re 
 placing the plume in his hat, belted his waist, and with 
 his sheathed sword in his hand, the two passed 300 or 400 
 yards into the forest where they came upon the basin of 
 a spring, about which were signs of the recent presence 
 of men, where they halted till night became confirmed 
 in the wood. Here the chief produced from an opening 
 into the hollow of a tree, a calabash shell, with which 
 Dudley supplied himself with water ; also a liberal parcel 
 of roasted venison and bread, when for the first time he 
 learned how very hungry and thirsty he was. Refreshed 
 he now arose to commence the journey. 
 
 Evidently the guide intended to avoid observation,
 
 The Shawanoes Gift. 123 
 
 using the cover of the wood where practicable. They 
 moved south-easterly, and when they emerged into the 
 open, Dudley saw by the line of mist that the river was 
 near. They crossed the road leading south, and ap 
 proached it above the landing-place of the invaders of 
 the morning. At the wooded margin of the Detroit, 
 Wasegoboah sounded the note which first attracted Dud 
 ley in the forest, and was answered from just below. 
 Here they found the young warriors of that adventure 
 standing by a small canoe, which was at once placed in 
 the slow moving water of the shore. Dudley bent over 
 to examine the craft. It was what he supposed, one of 
 the famous birch barks, and daylight showed it to be of 
 rare workmanship, beaded at the gunwale and otherwise 
 ornamented ; a shallop fit for a forest princess. The 
 young man silently took his place in it, showing in this 
 the purpose of his inspection. His friends saw that he 
 was familiar with their craft. His position was such, 
 that with the chief in the stern the bubble-like shell 
 would be best freighted for its voyage. He beckoned 
 the youths to his side and placed in the hand of each an 
 equal portion of the silver coin on his person, the chief 
 took his place with his paddle, and the canoe was sent 
 from the shore. The little thing held her way till the 
 middle of the river was gained, when its prow was turned 
 southward, and the strong current bore it like a boat of 
 condensed foam toward Lake Erie. Not far, and they 
 swept past the frowning battery of the grim looking 
 Queen Charlotte, and a little lower the taut Lady Pre- 
 vost was passed. If seen in turn the boat was not hailed. 
 Had it been, there was the smallest danger of its being 
 hit by shot and none of its capture. 
 
 Passing these and gaining the solitude of the lower
 
 124 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 reaches of the river, the hitherto silent Wasegoboah said 
 in the way of the natives " My brother sleep." Dudley 
 found a blanket for his use. He stretched himself as 
 well as the dimensions of the boat permitted and resigned 
 himself to sleep. 
 
 There came through his brain a rapid survey of the 
 two last months, the events of which now took their 
 proper places in perspective, of which the deed of this 
 last day was the fitting end. His mind lost its grasp. 
 Edith, with the startled expression worn at their meeting 
 of the forenoon, was present with him, bringing thoughts 
 of the Huron and her father's mission there. He would 
 banish it. He looked up to the far off stars of the warm 
 night sky. The swirl of the water from the canoe's prow 
 sent its low monotone to his ear, and there were the notes 
 and calls of the nocturnal aquatic birds and animals from 
 the marshes and reedy margins of the river, under the 
 shadow of the forest. These grew indistinct in his be 
 numbed senses and he slept. 
 
 When they reached the lake, he awoke and used the 
 the second paddle until the boat was hidden under the 
 bank of the Raisin. In the light of the morning, Dudley 
 amused himself with making inscriptions with a pencil 
 on the bark inside the boat. At the point of concealment 
 he parted with his faithful guide, who carried with him 
 full evidence of the youth's gratitude, as well as messages 
 of thanks to Shawanoe and Tecumseh ; also specially to 
 the Indian maiden, Anita. He reached Brush's quarters 
 an hour in advance of Captain Elliott, the half-blood son 
 of Colonel Elliott, Indian superintendent. Brush, with 
 a opmpany of militia cavalry had everything in readiness 
 for departure, if approached by a superior force, or for 
 fight if the numbers made it prudent. His cattle were
 
 The Shaivanoes Gift. 125 
 
 soon on the way toward distant Urbanna, across the 
 swampy divide between the basin of the lakes and "the 
 valley of the Ohio. The British officer came, with merely 
 a guard, to receive the submission of Brush, and conduct 
 him, his stores and party, to Detroit. Brush laughed at 
 him. Learning that the pleasant looking young officer 
 Avith Brush was his informant of the surrender and the 
 leading conditions, he knew he must be the missing 
 Captain Dudley, now a personage of interest in both 
 armies. He claimed him as a prisoner, and was laughed 
 at again. He then delivered the letter he bore from 
 McArthur and Cass, and truculently threatening Dudley 
 if he ever fell into British hands, he turned back from his 
 "sleeveless errand." 
 
 The escape of Dudley remained one of the mysteries 
 of the British army in Canada. The exploit and the 
 service it enabled him to perform, gained for him a credit 
 which he felt was not his due. Light of heart and gay 
 of spirit, he was nevertheless introspective. His modesty, 
 his sense of justice, made him exacting of himself, and 
 nothing was more distasteful to him than praise unde 
 served. 
 
 Brush escaped with the public property. Brock and 
 Tecumseh knew the uselessness of pursuit, with many 
 hours and forty miles the start, and commanded as the 
 enemy would now be. Unquestionably Brush's force 
 never having become a part of the army at Detroit, were 
 justly held by Dudley not within the terms of the capitu 
 lation. A few of his men were sick and unequal to the 
 march, and these Elliott conducted to Detroit as prisoners 
 of war. 
 
 With no superior officer, Dudley reported directly to 
 the war office, and meanwhile offered his services to
 
 126 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 Harrison, who gladly accepted and placed him upon his 
 staff, of which he soon became the chief, a name then 
 unknown, with the rank of major. His first service was 
 in the expedition for the relief of Fort Harrison, of 
 mounted militia from Kentucky. He commanded the 
 advance on the last day's march. The Indians did not 
 risk a battle with him. His arrival was opportune. The 
 palisades and block houses were burnt away on one 
 side, the garrison at the last gasp, worn and exhausted 
 by their persistent and desperate defence. 
 
 Harrison, meantime, had been appointed a brigadier- 
 general of the regular service, but limited to a field of 
 command that made him hesitate to accept it. He 
 followed the relieving expedition of Ohio troops, which 
 raised the siege of Fort Wayne, where he was joined by 
 Dudley. 
 
 The new general of the north-western army, which 
 the genius of Harrison called into existence, made his 
 appearance at Fort Wayne soon after the arrival of 
 Harrison, who turned the command over to him. Win 
 chester was a brave man, a soldier of the old army, a 
 gentleman of the old school. His manners and bear 
 ing were unendurable to the hunter and pioneer volun 
 teers, who expected to serve under Harrison, and who 
 now peremptorily refused to be led by Winchester. 
 They mutinied, in fact, and it was only after an effective 
 speech from the victor of Tippecanoe, a master of popu 
 lar oratory, as of the popular heart, that they consented 
 to recognize him as their general. Winchester offered 
 Dudley the first position on his staff. He felt free to 
 choose, and remained with Harrison. 
 
 As he anticipated, the cabinet at Washington, better 
 advised, superceded Winchester with the Kentucky gen-
 
 The Shawanoe s Gift. 127 
 
 eral of militia, who now accepted his national appointment. 
 The confidence now reposed in him seemed boundless, 
 and he was formally invested with discretionary powers 
 in his department, only second to those of Washington 
 in the war of independence. 
 
 Winchester was soured by the treatment he received. 
 He had no knowledge of the kind of war now being 
 waged ; he soon became a sharp critic of his commander, 
 and never gave him cordial support or effective aid. 
 
 For more than organization and preparation, power 
 came to the new general too late for a campaign to re 
 capture Detroit and humble Maiden, the present season. 
 
 The department of the North-west was the limitless 
 region from the west line of New York, westward. In 
 the main, a level, swampy, roadless, bridgeless wilder 
 ness. Under the Autumn rains the streams were swollen 
 and the spongy soil ceased to have a practicable bottom 
 for transportation purposes. Not a man or horse, not 
 a gun or pound of stores, could be used at the point of 
 impact, that did not have to make the transit of this 
 wide expanse. The lake, as will be remembered, was 
 closed to the Americans. 
 
 Once the new commander saw a gleam of chance to 
 recapture Detroit. The means of approach the frozen 
 river were too precarious, the men for the assault too 
 remote, and Dudley saw it vanish as impracticable. 
 
 General Brock confirmed his promise of protection to 
 the people of Detroit and Michigan, turned the com 
 mand over to Proctor with instructions, and with a few 
 of his personal staff sailed on the " Hunter " for his threat 
 ened Niagara border the 22d of August. Nine days 
 were sufficient to destroy an army more numerous than 
 his own, swallow up a large province, and paralyze the
 
 128 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 national power of his enemy in the North-west, till winter 
 should intervene. 
 
 He returned with plans of sweeping the American 
 border from lake to lake, to find the armistice which set 
 him free still continued by the American general, spite of 
 the orders of his Government annulling it. 
 
 The famous British " Orders in Council " were the 
 final cause of the American declaration of war, and though 
 revoked two months before the date of that Act, slow 
 winged news of it did not reach America until a month 
 after its passage ; whereupon Prevost and Dearborn, 
 whose war hardly arose to a breach of the peace, sus 
 pended the declaration of the war. Dearborn entered 
 into this convention, in face of his orders, to demonstrate 
 against his enemy in aid of his Western colleague, and 
 excused himself later on the ground that he did not 
 know the Niagara frontier was a part of his department. 
 
 Brock, with his Western laurels fresh and bloodless, 
 met the American army of invasion, and fell on Queens- 
 town Heights, leading a charge, where he encountered 
 the younger Scott, two months from the day of his landing 
 at Maiden. His enemy paid his entire army of invasion 
 for this life, and gained in the bad exchange of war. Yet 
 Brock's fall was deplored by his slayers as a common 
 loss. 
 
 Brock required that Mr. Grayson and Edith should 
 remain at Maiden. He desired their influence with 
 Proctor and Tecumseh. He knew an early and decided 
 effort would be made to recover Detroit and capture 
 Maiden. He could spare no soldiers. They must re 
 cruit from the Indian tribes. Pressed in its awful life 
 struggle with Napoleon, England could not send a man 
 to America. W T ith Tecumseh to command them, he
 
 The SJiawanoes Gift. 129 
 
 employed the savages with less reluctance. He knew 
 Proctor's character, but choice of a commander was 
 not his. 
 
 Canada West was a remote region, and when winter 
 closed Lake Erie, entirely isolated. Its only connection 
 then with its capital, York (Toronto), was by a road from 
 the Thames mouth, two hundred miles through a gloomy 
 forest, striking the head of Lake Ontario at Burlington 
 Heights. 
 
 Save Muir's ineffective demonstrations against the 
 American posts, an Indian incursion at Sandusky, another 
 into Kentucky, the arming and organization of the hunters 
 and pioneers, the season closed without real war in the 
 North-west. 
 
 In January, Dr. Eustis made way for Major Armstrong 
 (author of the Newburg letters) in the war office, and 
 the Americans resolved to capture Lake Erie. 
 9
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EDITH. 
 
 EDITH hoped that Maiden and Windsor would be 
 enlivened with the presence of Mrs. Proctor, and 
 two or three ladies who would accompany her. In this 
 she was disappointed. For her the winter closed in with 
 unrelieved gloom. 
 
 She had been educated, had taught herself to regard 
 the unfortunate king with the self-denying devotion of 
 Flora .Mclvor for the young Pretender. To her the 
 loyalty of those who bore the livery of the crown seemed 
 cold and uncertain, merely a professed sentiment loosely 
 worn for personal ends. Not the one, as with her, or 
 the strongest of many incentives to action. With clever 
 intellect and strong lines of character her vision had 
 been narrow. She saw everything through the atmos 
 phere of her education and self-dedication, not without 
 much refracting power upon such rays of light as sur 
 rounded most objects brought within reach of her vision. 
 If she had beauty, attraction, intellect, she set no 
 woman's value on them as means of winning admiration, 
 even love, for herself. That they might serve such a 
 purpose had not occurred to her. 
 
 For the five or six years of her maturing life, the grow 
 ing differences between the kindred nations, in the father's 
 judgment, were the means in the hands of Heaven of con- 
 
 130
 
 Edith. 131 
 
 ducting to inevitable war. Their duty was to strengthen 
 the hand of the king. 
 
 In his heart still rankled the unmitigable sense of per 
 sonal wrong. The heart of the girl, however mistaken, 
 was influenced by lofty and pure sentiment. That, as she 
 supposed, could be only won by loyalty as unselfish as her 
 own, illustrated by great service and gallant exploit. She 
 had seen but one man she could love. She never thought 
 of him as a possible lover. She had in no way tested her 
 power to love. This hero was the general who almost 
 commanded her to remain in Canada West. She did not 
 like Proctor ; he was coarse fibred, loud voiced, boastful, 
 might be brutal, even cowardly. She once tried to look 
 kindly on Home. She felt she could never love him. 
 Recently she regarded him with increasing indifference 
 more than indifference. Something had happened in the 
 Ohio woods, now a year ago, very strange it seemed, re 
 vealing unsuspected secrets of her own nature, showing 
 that whatever she was she had the common and cher 
 ished qualities of her sex. This woman side of herself, 
 or this side of this woman, stood to her inner view in 
 Rembrandt light and shadow, a little startling. She also 
 found that the old cherished objects of reverence, de 
 votion, and labor had received a strange new light, which 
 not only diminished their importance, but showed them 
 in changed aspects. 
 
 Her father suddenly disappeared in the black water, 
 drawn under the drift. She realized she might never 
 even see his form again, when a face broke from the 
 drowning flood and laughed in hers, and strong arms 
 bore up to her the lost. 
 
 The rescuer did not ask her love, confront her as seek 
 ing it. He set no value on his service, and seemingly
 
 132 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 little on himself. One to do things naturally, as belong 
 ing to him to do, not for reward ; they were his work, 
 and so there was nothing to be said. She was very sure 
 were she a man she would do things this way ; that she 
 would never approach a woman as demanding her love. 
 He was in her heart from that, first as something precious, 
 like the dearest girl no, not a girl, but like a girl. He 
 was a virile, heroic man ; more than any possible girl a 
 thing to love, to be near, yet to be coyly shy of ; to be 
 afraid of with that tremulous fear which was not fear at 
 alP. She could not describe it. It was very sweet to 
 have. She wondered if he had something of this same 
 feeling toward her ? Of course he had, because it was 
 hers toward him. Of course one could not have this 
 alone, what precious logic. 
 
 For some time her thought was, this is not love : 
 love blinds, fascinates, intoxicates, has the uncanny thing 
 of magic. This was inspiring, lifting one's soul into 
 purest white light, where God dwelt ; not selfish, not akin 
 to that passion of the senses called love. When her 
 mind saw it clearly, she had no doubt of what it was, a 
 pure and exalted love. Of course nothing as common 
 lovers could ever come of it. They were enemies might 
 never see, or even hear of each other. Mountains, seas, 
 continents, divided them. No matter, she was glad 
 glad they had met ; glad of her own love. It was its 
 own priceless recompense, bringing her nothing but 
 good. 
 
 Then came the war with some rekindling of the Joan 
 of Arc. Brock came with that day of glory and triumph. 
 It brought that vision of him, looking as she would have 
 him look, bringing all the recalling and introspection 
 with which she had grown familiar.
 
 Edith. 133 
 
 She was glad of his escape for many reasons. Largely 
 that he was free, was with his friends, had gained much, 
 as she thought, deserved credit. Certainly his reputation 
 should not suffer in the British army. One thing had 
 been settled by the Ohio mission ; she should never wed. 
 She now knew there could be but one man in the world 
 to whom she could ever be wife and that could never be. 
 
 The thing that in any way reconciled her to remain at 
 Maiden, beyond her diminished sense of duty, was the 
 presence of Tecumseh, and possibly an unconscious 
 sense of the nearness of this other, which she never 
 grasped or made mental note of. 
 
 The fall of Brock, Edith's one hero of the British army 
 in America, greater than Wolf, as she regarded him, was 
 to her an irreparable blow. On his fate, as she supposed, 
 the war on the northern frontier of the States must 
 depend in large measure. The news benumbed her. 
 She had fancied his was a charmed life. The hail of 
 battle was to leave him untouched. He was stricken, 
 and Canada was helpless. Nobody was left but a herd 
 of ignoble men, with no mastering hand to wield and 
 make them heroic. The drums were muffled, the banners 
 draped ; the old soldiers wept. The swaggering Proctor, 
 grim old Colonel St. George, the colonels, the majors, and 
 captains were ghastly and silent. When Harrison came, 
 as come he would, who would lead the soldiers to meet 
 him ? 
 
 There was but one now, king born of the woods, whose 
 ability as a leader the English were yet to learn, and 
 learning were yet to contemn, because a barbarian, and 
 born out of England. If incapable of profiting by his 
 genius, he regarded them with a lofty scorn. He did full 
 justice to the fighting qualities of the British soldier. He
 
 134 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 held the tactics of civilized war in slight esteem, and he 
 despised Proctor nearly as much as he did the Ameri 
 cans. 
 
 War was now supposed to be postponed until spring. 
 It was understood at Maiden that the Americans would 
 attempt to dispute the supremacy of the lake, the next 
 campaign, and yet in the frozen heart of the winter was 
 to occur an incident of the war, itself very war, that was 
 to startle the heart and nerves, and darken the life of 
 Edith, more than anything within the circle of her years 
 except the death of Brock and although it was to gild 
 the royal arms with triumph, and win a general's epaulets 
 for Proctor, it would bring into relief, painfully, some of 
 the defects of his character and generalship.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 VERY WAR. 
 
 THE oft mentioned river Raisin, then a beautiful 
 forest stream, runs into the west side of Lake 
 Erie, near its head. On this, built both sides of it and two 
 miles from its mouth, was the pretty village of Frenchtown, 
 composed of thirty dwellings ; it was forty miles southerly 
 from Detroit and eighteen miles south-westerly from 
 Maiden. It was well built for the pioneers' time. Its 
 people were thrifty, had small, well-cleared, and cultivated 
 farms and gardens, fruitful orchards, and ornamental 
 shrubbery. It was on the road of approach from San- 
 dusky as from the forts of the upper Maumee to Detroit, 
 and had, as will be remembered, a small stockade con 
 structed of palisades or pickets, round sections of tree 
 trunks, set firmly in the ground, and rising twelve or 
 fifteen feet above its surface, pointed at the tops. This 
 was the general character of a stockade. A larger, 
 stronger fortification had well constructed block houses, 
 at least at the angles this was of the simplest form, with 
 one small block house. 
 
 Upon the fall of Detroit, although within the territory 
 of Michigan, Captain Elliott received the submission of 
 the inhabitants and promised them protection, a prom 
 ise never kept. 
 
 It was the southern outpost of the British ; Major Rey- 
 
 135
 
 136 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 nolds, of the provincial militia, was in command, with two 
 companies, and 400 Indians, mostly Wyandots, under 
 Round-head and Walk-in-the-Water ; and, as the British 
 and Canadians say, there were also in the neighborhood 
 about 200 of the great Indian trader Dickson's Indians 
 from the upper lakes, for whom the British were not 
 responsible. However this may have been, the people of 
 Frenchtown suffered greatly from hostile invasions ; Rey 
 nolds could not or would not protect them. Repeated 
 applications to Proctor were ineffective, and in their de 
 spair they sent two deputations in the dead of winter, in 
 quick succession, to the nearest American post, appealing 
 for aid and defence against the outrages to which they 
 were subject. 
 
 At the junction of the Auglaze with the Maumee was 
 then situated Fort Defiance. The old fort was built by 
 Wayne ; General Harrison built a new and stronger work, 
 the past Autumn. Here General Winchester, who 
 changed its name to his own, was spending the winter 
 with 800 young Kentuckians, in some respects the flower 
 of the State. He was able to maintain hardly a sem 
 blance of discipline over these chivalrous young men, 
 with whom he lived or spent his time, rather than com 
 manded. It was to these the Frenchtown deputations 
 appealed. Winchester referred them to the Kentuckians 
 in mass meeting, who unanimously resolved to chastise 
 their oppressors and protect them, notwithstanding the 
 distance and season, and the nearness of Frenchtown to 
 Maiden. A detachment was hurried to the Raisin, which 
 fell upon the enemy, and after a sharp battle forced 
 them and their Indians two miles into the woods. The 
 Canadians tenaciously contested every tree and rood 
 of ground. So near the enemy the Americans knew
 
 Very War. 137 
 
 they would be speedily assaulted by Proctor with an 
 overwhelming force, unless they retreated. They came 
 to protect ; they must remain. The battle over they 
 retired to Frenchtown, took possession of the stock 
 ade, and hurried messengers to Winchester for rein 
 forcements. The general, with nearly the residue of the 
 Kentucky contingent, hastened to their aid. He reached 
 the exposed point just at nightfall of the day after the 
 battle. The stockade was on the north side of the river, 
 a little distance from it. It was not large enough to 
 accommodate all his force. 
 
 The residue encamped near in the rear of it. Having 
 seen to the disposition of the troops, Winchester returned 
 with his staff across the river half a mile or more, to a 
 house for the night. This was against the remonstrance 
 of his officers, who earnestly requested him to remain 
 with them. He was a good deal annoyed in the evening 
 by the report of the scouts, who announced the enemy in 
 the neighborhood in force. He laughed in their faces, 
 and with his aids betook himself to serene slumber. Ere 
 daybreak he was wakened by his own reveille which was 
 immediately lost in the thunder of Proctor's artillery, the 
 volleys of his musketry, and the war-whoop of Round 
 head's warriors. On his way to the battle-field, that 
 chief met and made him a prisoner, and despoiling 
 him of his coat and boots, he conducted the late com 
 mander of the north-western army to Proctor. 
 
 The day of the first battle was the anniversary of good 
 Queen Charlotte's birth; the English officers and the elite 
 of Canada West celebrated the occasion at Mrs. Draper's 
 tavern.* 
 
 * Chronicles of Canada.
 
 138 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 Early in the evening, as the gayety of the occasion 
 began to sparkle, in strode grim old St. George, sent over 
 to educate the militia, equipped for the field, looking like 
 a belated martial Santa-Glaus out of place, and an 
 nounced that the officers were to be ready for march at 
 four the next morning. Wild rumor found itself on the 
 wing. Harrison was advancing on Detroit. Antitype of 
 Napoleon's approach, three years after, upon the Belgian 
 capital. The enemy were to be met on his own soil. 
 
 Edith felt constrained to be present at the ball, in 
 honor of her royal mistress, a reluctant spectator of a 
 joyance she could not share. She witnessed the departure 
 of the expedition, knew that Proctor took nearly his avail 
 able force, and was not a little anxious. Tecumseh was 
 absent on a mission West ; not only would he be absent 
 from the expected battle, and victory, but his restraint 
 over his heated warriors would be lacking. She heard 
 the loud voice of Proctor, and shuddered as she thought 
 of the American wounded, or prisoners, who might fall 
 into his hands. All the next day she was nervous and 
 anxious, more so than when Brock moved to attack 
 Detroit. In the morning of the second, the day of the 
 second battle of Frenchtown, she induced her father to 
 cross to the American side with herself and Anita. She 
 had a fine pair of horses with a sleigh and robes. The 
 Detroit had been frozen six weeks, and the snow was 
 deep. She persisted in going on the southern road to 
 the native Brownstown. There about noon the victors 
 came hurrying back, more like fugitives, than conquerors 
 from a field of triumph. Everything indicated they had 
 been roughly met, though Winchester was a prisoner and 
 accompanied the loud-voiced Proctor in a sleigh. Then 
 came a considerable body 'of prisoners, dejected, silent,
 
 Very War. 1 39 
 
 the British wounded, even the bodies of their slain. 
 Where were the American wounded ? above all where 
 were their own red allies, a considerable body of whom 
 made a part of the expeditionary force ? and why was 
 there such haste as if pursued by a superior enemy ? 
 
 It did not at the first all come to Edith. Later she 
 came to know more than enough, much more than should 
 have been. Proctor attacked at daybreak. The Ameri 
 cans outside the pickets were finally overpowered, and 
 retreating to the woods were surrounded by the Indians 
 and slain to a man ; not one escaped. Not a prisoner 
 was made. 
 
 The fire from the stockade, by the Kentucky rifles, was 
 so hot and well directed that Proctor was compelled to 
 draw off. He finally bullied the captured General Win j 
 Chester to send an order to the gallant defender of the 
 stockade to surrender. This was refused. The officer 
 in command would not recognize the authority of a supe 
 rior in the hands of the enemy. Finally, on a pledge 
 personally given by Proctor, of protection to prisoners 
 and care of the wounded, the Americans grounded arms. 
 The Indians at once, in Proctor's presence, began an 
 attack on them. Their American commander ordered 
 them to resume their weapons, when the British officers 
 interfered effectively. 
 
 Then came the senseless rumor, no one ever knew on 
 what authority, that Harrison was at hand, and Proctor 
 almost in a panic, withdrew, fancying himself pursued, 
 though as English Reynolds, the royal commissary, 
 naively said " The enemy never came in sight." 
 
 Finally Reynolds returned with his sleighs, and a flag 
 for his own protection, for the enemy's wounded. Edith 
 would follow the procession on the hard beaten road.
 
 140 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 As they approached the battle-field, signs of its neigh 
 borhood, as of the haste of Proctor's retreat, increased. 
 Near the town Reynolds, who had mastered the ghastly 
 problem, hurried back to her, and succeeded in having 
 her driver turn her horses' heads northward again. 
 
 Not an American was alive. 
 
 Edith was told that this nameless deed, the dreadful 
 finish, was the work of Dickson's Lake Indians. This is 
 still asserted. To her it made no difference whether 
 the allies of the British did it, or savages not allies, who 
 were permitted to do it. 
 
 When it was reported to Proctor his only remark 
 " Indians are good Doctors, " was significant of the 
 man's nature as of his methods of warfare. 
 Though Edith turned back, knowing only the general 
 fact, she was sick and depressed beyond what she had 
 supposed was in her power to suffer. All the way back, 
 as night deepened in the wood through which the glid 
 ing sleigh sped its noiseless way, muffled, with her head 
 bowed, one lovely pale dead face was present within her, 
 lying in the snow reddened with blood. 
 
 This was war, stripped of its trappings and reduced 
 to its simples. 
 
 She could not rest on her return, till her father, in an 
 interview with one of the captured officers, learned that 
 Dudley was not at Fort Winchester, but with General 
 Harrison, and promoted. It was a great relief to her. 
 She was glad on the whole that he was attached to the 
 American general's staff ; he was comparatively safe. 
 She would know where he was when told where the head 
 quarters of the enemy's army were. She thought his 
 preference would be for a position in the line. She knew 
 that the personal wish of an officer was seldom consulted.
 
 Very War. 141 
 
 He would certainly do his duty wherever he was. Her 
 heart went out to him in a gush of relieved emotion. 
 
 Soon the wretched condition of the people of French- 
 town came to her remembrance, now in the heart of 
 winter, unprotected by their countrymen, plundered and 
 annoyed by their enemies, with the ghastly scenes of 
 battle and blood about them ; and she shuddered as she 
 remembered that her woman's hand had helped to bring 
 this upon them. She talked with her father, who, while 
 he regarded these calamities as a just visitation of Provi 
 dence, still illogically esteemed it his duty as a Christian 
 to do what he might to mitigate its severity, and he went 
 with her to Proctor, and procured from him an order for 
 their removal to Detroit. She then busied herself in 
 securing comfortable abodes for them in the town. The 
 kind-hearted Reynolds furnished means of transportation, 
 and in a week under her supervision they were for the 
 time housed from the winter and Indians. It was from 
 these objects of her care that she learned the details of 
 the scenes following the surrender of the Americans. 
 She had a discussion of the matter with Home, who came 
 to have a very clear understanding of her estimate of it, 
 and an apprehension that his position toward her was not 
 largely improved. 
 
 That Proctor left Frenchtown after the battle under the 
 influence of an honest fear of Harrison's approach, can 
 hardly be doubted. He even left the gallant St. George 
 bleeding from three severe wounds, freezing in the snow 
 where he fell, and who would have perished but for 
 the care of others. His victory was hailed with plau 
 dits throughout Canada, and in England. The Prince 
 Regent promoted him, the Canadian parliaments gave
 
 142 The Tory-s Daughter. 
 
 him votes of thanks. He was yet to hear the cry of 
 " Frenchtown ! " 
 
 The winter wore on, Edith finding ample employment 
 in the care of her protegees, the exiles of Frenchtown, 
 who would require aid for the indefinite time until they 
 could return in safety to their abandoned homes. The 
 employment was grateful to her feelings in every way ; at 
 first undertaken largely from a sense of duty, its continu 
 ance became a source of exquisite satisfaction, filling her 
 heart with gratitude that she was enabled to render the 
 homeless ones this service. 
 
 Toward March, her " Knight of the Forest," as she 
 called the Shawanoe, returned. His mission extended to 
 the Sacs, Foxes and even the more distant Sioux. He 
 was shocked at the report of the slaughter of the 
 wounded prisoners. His honor was involved, and he 
 made enquiries into the horrible excesses at Frenchtown, 
 the result of which in no way relieved his own subordi 
 nates, or the British commander. He censured his 
 chiefs in the strongest terms declared he would sum 
 marily punish any repetition of it in the future. Proctor 
 and his officers were surprised, that " Now the thing was 
 over, he should make such a of a fuss about it ; " were 
 the general's words. Tecumseh retorted with scorn, not 
 depending on Elliott to render his meaning.* So that 
 matter stood to a day in the near future. 
 
 " You conquer to murder, I conquer to save," were his reported 
 words. Anthony Shane Drake's Tecumseh,
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FIRST GUN. 
 
 THE Northern winter held the rivers and lakes, the 
 wide level sweeps of land, under its ices and 
 snows, till after mid-March. Tecumseh had returned, 
 with him came his brother, and as spring came with its 
 warmth, and lent its tint of color to wood, hill-side and 
 plain, he mustered his warriors from all Michigan and 
 beyond the Wabash. 
 
 The American general was glad to have all the hostile 
 bands in his front. His flank, the distant cabins, were 
 for the time safe. He meant the campaign of 1813 
 should make this last forever assured. Harassed by 
 the short terms of the militia, tied by the orders of the 
 secretary of war, soon to become his enemy, the opening 
 season, earlier by many days on his side of the lake, 
 found his preparations well in hand. 
 
 In that day of primitive arms, the rapids of the 
 Maumee were a strategic point of forest warfare, held so 
 by the commanders of both races. Little-Turtle, Blue- 
 Jacket, Black-Hoof and Turkey-Tracks, awaited Wayne 
 there. There the French built a fort, and the British, Fort 
 Miami. The Maumee the Miami of the lakes runs 
 north-easterly. After the expulsion of the French, Fort 
 Miami side, the left bank was called the British side, 
 while the easterly or southern was known as the Ameri- 
 
 1.43
 
 144 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 can. Old Fort Miami was now a ruin. Two miles 
 above, on the American side, and twelve miles from the 
 lake, was the site of the to become famous Camp Meigs. 
 The banks of the river there, are about one hundred feet 
 higk, from the top of which, save where cut down by 
 small confluents, the, table-land stretches back in level 
 sweeps, then heavily wooded. On the easterly side, a 
 stream made a deep ravine in its course to the river. 
 Just above this, Harrison's engineer, Captain Wood, 
 planted the camp, the ravine becoming a natural defence. 
 The front of the camp was some three hundred yards 
 from the river, and the works consisted of a wall of 
 heavy palisades, of 2500 yards in extent, enclosing eight 
 acres of ground, many sided, with numerous angles and 
 strong block-houses. The whole was surrounded by a 
 ditch and abatis ; the timber for a sufficient breadth had 
 been removed from about it, and a battery commanded 
 the river. The Americans were deficient in artillery, and 
 ammunition for it, in the war. To man the works re 
 quired 2500 men. Here at mid-March Harrison made 
 his headquarters, with less than half that force. Ohio 
 and Kentucky were to furnish the needed reinforcements. 
 The Black swamp lay between him and Sandusky. The 
 breadth of Ohio between him and Kentucky. Frank- 
 linton, on the west bank of the Scioto, opposite 
 Columbus, was then Governor Meigs' capital, and the 
 headquarters of the General. 
 
 He had many famous scouts and runners. On Dud 
 ley's arrival with his chief in March, he found Carter 
 there, and he attached him to himself as an outside aid, 
 under his immediate orders. As to others Carter's posi 
 tion was wholly independent. He had been at Detroit, 
 Maiden and Windsor. In the guise of an old Canadian
 
 The First Gun. 145 
 
 of ill fortunes, he lingered about these places, observing 
 and picking up much useful information. He was a scout 
 for Wayne and knew the neighborhood well. He discov 
 ered the approach of the British army in latest April, and 
 hastened back to camp with the information. Then there 
 was a great running of messengers from the American 
 camp towards Sandusky and Fort Winchester, to Gov 
 ernor Meigs and Kentucky. 
 
 With his scouts and runners, Tecumseh was advised of 
 the movements of his enemy. He did not admire his 
 methods of fortifying a camp. It would be an admirable 
 cover to assemble his forces under, and a secure place to 
 retreat to, if repulsed. If permitted, he would assemble 
 and organize a force which would recapture Detroit and 
 endanger Maiden. Tecumseh would assail the place 
 over the ice and snow, ere its growth to formidable pro 
 portions. Proctor and his council decided it must be 
 crushed. It could not be done until the river and lake 
 admitted of transportation. The chief was impatient; he 
 was ready long before the tardy sun performed its part 
 of the enterprise. The tardier Proctor was not then 
 ready. 
 
 With the rekindling warmth of the sun, the flutter of 
 banners, the gleam of scarlet, of buttons and arms, the 
 high spirits and confidence, the expectations of officers 
 and soldiers, by which she was surrounded as part of 
 her daily life, Edith felt the reawakening of her own 
 heroic spirit. The bitterness and pain of mid-winter 
 passed with its snows. Her interest in the river, the 
 cause of the crown, revived ; the voice of the boastful 
 Proctor was less offensive. He had shown enterprise in 
 the river Raisin expedition. His fault was his haste and 
 want of care in leaving the well fought field. He now 
 
 10
 
 146 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 had a thousand trained soldiers ; Tecumseh would lead 
 2000 warriors, would command them in person, and an 
 other effective blow would be struck for the Prince Regent 
 and the homes of his red allies. Her father was eager 
 and confident. It was hoped another campaign would 
 sufficiently humble the Yankees. True an amazing 
 series of naval victories of the enemy had balanced the 
 moral effect of his reverses by land. These were in the 
 now past. He would by autumn sue for peace, with an 
 amended boundary. Mr. Grayson, a man of fortune, 
 owned a small sloop bearing Edith's name ; in this, 
 with his daughter and a small party of ladies, he would 
 accompany the expedition against Harrison, the new gen 
 eral. The voyage would be a short one, the danger to 
 them none. The scenes of Frenchtown must not be 
 repeated. Edith was more than willing. The officers 
 were anxious she should go. They would carry large and 
 commodious tents, and camp-equipage. She would be 
 quartered and sheltered in the lovely woods, mid spring 
 flowers and notes of song birds. The Miami of the lakes 
 was said to be the most beautiful, as the most con 
 siderable of the rivers, emptying into the lake on that 
 side. 
 
 Anita was in an ecstasy of delight from the day of 
 her sister's determination to go. Naturally she resolved 
 to bring about a meeting between her and the young 
 chief. She observed the prudence of silence as to her 
 purpose. She was now too mature a woman not to know 
 that a maiden's words were not infallible interpreters of 
 her feelings and wishes. 
 
 The English squadron of all vessels, freighted with 
 Proctor, his army, and fortunes, made a gay show down 
 the Detroit ; winging out in the broad lake, and floating
 
 The First Gun. 147 
 
 away to the mouth of the not distant Mnumee. It was a 
 lovely day of softened air, and the sun came back from 
 the water blindingly, in the eyes of the confident throngs 
 on board. The course up the full banked river was 
 more laborious. 
 
 Just below the old fort on the British side, the bank 
 bends away from the river, leaving a bit of interval large 
 enough for the British encampment, safe from the enemy, 
 and which was selected for that purpose. The Indians 
 were on the American side, and there made their camp. 
 Their business was to infest the woods, so as to invest the 
 works of the enemy completely. 
 
 The royal engineers were on the ground in advance 
 and selected the site for the batteries of the 24-pounders 
 and cohorns. On the morning after the landing, the two 
 generals rode up to examine the ground, and inspect 
 their enemy's works. Tecumseh, a noble horseman, was 
 mounted on a powerful charger, and in his uniform coat, 
 golden epaulets, scarlet cap and eagle's feather, was 
 a warrior to be seen. Short, pudgy Proctor, sashed and 
 gorgeous, an indifferent rider, appeared at disadvantage 
 by his side. Everything from sky to sunlit earth, was 
 gay and glorious. The Maumee had never seen a more 
 gallant spectacle. The morning parade on the old 
 grounds of Fort Miami, the gleam of arms, the scarlet 
 uniforms, the generals and aids, with a troop of provin 
 cial cavalry, who rode well, galloped up to see the mount 
 ing of the heavy guns, which were to demolish the 
 wooden walls, behind which Harrison and his soldiers 
 hoped to find shelter. 
 
 Eyes from Camp Meigs had detected signs of a pres 
 ence not healthful in the wood on the British shore, a 
 gleam of red, a flash of bullion, and plumes, and an 18-
 
 148 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 pounder sent a round shot, with precision, into the group 
 about the guns, fatal to two or three, and the boom of 
 the gun rolled down the high walled valley, rolling 
 through the old wood, startling the bronzed warriors on 
 the east side, who never could hear the thunder of ord 
 nance with indifference. There was a vein of supersti 
 tion in Proctor, and the result of the first shot was an 
 omen of ill. Tecumseh laughed at the influence which it 
 had on the feelings of his commander, not advancing 
 him in the chief's estimation. The engineers changed 
 the position of the battery, and the light of the next 
 morning saw the woody curtain which hid their labors 
 pushed by, revealing their heavy guns in position. 
 When the artillerists were ready to open, upon turning 
 to the wooden wall, lo ! a change there. The white field 
 of tents that the day before filled the foreground of the 
 camp, and gleamed a wavering line of white through the 
 early night, had vanished, and their expectant eyes met a 
 dull line of yellow earth along the whole extent, a 
 grand traverse^ on an ample base, rising twenty feet from 
 the surface, behind which stood the white town of tents 
 in absolute security. 
 
 Chagrined and angered, Proctor roared and thundered 
 out his stupid rage from all his "wide throated guns, send 
 ing harmless iron to strengthen the wall of senseless 
 earth, or bore and splinter the now useless palisades 
 easily renewed from within. He was but sparingly 
 replied to by his provident enemy, whose limited supply 
 of food for his small and few guns restrained his impulse 
 to prodigality in its use. 
 
 The warriors streamed through the forest in the rear 
 of the camp, weaving an impenetrable net-work of invis 
 ible links which could only be broken by a determined
 
 The First Gun. 149 
 
 charge of a body of well handled soldiers. They stole 
 up to the margin of the wood near the fort. Here and 
 there a bronzed face in paint, a shaved head with the 
 scalp lock challenging the scalping knife of an enemy, 
 flashed from behind a protecting tree, to disappear ere 
 the alert riflemen of the fort could sight the deadly weap 
 on. There were useless exchanges of shots at a range 
 too great for the arms of that day. Some of the advent 
 urous warriors ascended trees and fired into the camp. 
 Some of the Ohio men, who garrisoned the fortress, carried 
 with them a heavy rifle which discharged a four ounce 
 ball, effective at a half mile, which was used fatally more 
 than once on the aspiring braves, and came to be called 
 " Old Meigs." 
 
 Something occurred the evening following the appear 
 ance of the grand traverse of the Americans, near and 
 within the British camp, of much interest, and influenc 
 ing the fortunes of those whose history I recount.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 SQUAW-BLOW. 
 
 THE " Edith " on landing the Grayson party, found 
 a pleasant place below the craft of the expedi 
 tion, where she was tied to trees on the shore, under 
 which, on the leaf-strewn earth, their double-walled tents 
 were set up, and the ground covered with mattings, car 
 pets, and rugs. Here, protected by the wood crowned 
 bank, where the warm sunbeams came in, the early spring 
 was perceptibly working its charm ; her earliest flowers 
 were in bloom, her birds in song. It was below the 
 camp, between the limit of which and the group of the 
 Grayson tents was a tiny spring run, which cleft the high 
 bank, making for itself a ravine seemingly disproportion 
 ately large. 
 
 Edith would be beyond sentinels and pass words. A 
 standing order admitted all of the party to the camp in 
 which were the quarters of the husbands of two of the 
 ladies. They were accustomed to the boom of heavy 
 guns, and were little disturbed by the cannonade. 
 
 The day of the inspection by Proctor, the ladies were 
 abroad in the warm sun, and they found several of the 
 alway out of place hangers-about Maiden, who came, as 
 was inevitable. The nondescripts had two crafts in the 
 river below, one of which belonged to a well-known 
 sutler ; useless everywhere, they were familiar figures, 
 their names known to but few. 
 
 150
 
 Squaw-Bloiv. 151 
 
 The opening of the heavy guns and feeble response 
 that second morning, were the absorbing theme of con 
 versation. An assault was expected. The boats were 
 ready and the soldiers under arms should the wall be 
 broached. As the sun warmed up the small plat and 
 sloping bank, the girls and their friends were on the alert, 
 making excursions along the now deserted river, and 
 climbing the secondary hill-like bank to the wooded land 
 above for better observation. 
 
 On their way up this ascent one of the oldest of the 
 worn fort haunters of Maiden, whom Edith saw the day 
 before, was reclining on the northern bank of the ravine, 
 in a position to take the full warmth of the sun. Evi 
 dently his companions had left him for the more attrac 
 tive scene of the cannonade. 
 
 The Indian girl lingered a little and passed nearest the 
 old man. To her he showed a lovely " squaw-blow" 
 removing from it for the purpose a bit of light tracing 
 paper, then used by engineers. She was attracted by 
 it, and went to him, when he v gave the flower to her. She 
 remained a moment by him, and tripped along to gain 
 Edith's side, holding out her present gleefully to her. 
 Edith took and greatly admired it ; its three lily white 
 petals, and golden anthers make it one of the most strik 
 ing of the earlier flowers, and was the first the girl had 
 seen that spring. 
 
 " Old man gave it me," were the words of the girl, in 
 her improved English, as she received it back. " I 
 promised him some bread and meat poor old man," pity 
 ingly. 
 
 Edith turned to look back at him compassionately, 
 touched by the gentleness of a nature that prompted 
 such an offering. She said some word of approval, and
 
 152 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 Anita ran back to execute her promise to the old man, 
 and examined with more care ihe paper which she 
 received with the flower. She found a pencil inscription 
 on it, which deeply engaged the attention of the curious 
 young woman. Twenty minutes later she joined her 
 sister on the plain above. On their return the meek 
 old man was finishing his repast with apparent satisfac 
 tion, bestowing the surplus of Anita's bounty in a capa 
 cious pocket of a loose outside garment. Then he arose, 
 went down to the spring brook, extended himself on the 
 ground and took a seemingly copious draught from it, in 
 that primitive mode. Apparently refreshed, he arose 
 seeming to listen a moment to the sound of the guns, 
 turned and moved slowly in the direction of the lower 
 craft, and past from the eyes of the girls as from the 
 mind of one of them. He carried with him a scrap of 
 paper on which were two words written by the Indian 
 girl. 
 
 On their return, Edith found the flower in a small 
 china pitcher filled with water, to which her sister went 
 at once and hung over it with the liveliest interest. 
 
 " What is it, Anita ? " she asked. 
 
 " Squaw-bloio" she answered, showing her teeth in her 
 delight. A little later she said, " Young chief over 
 there ; " throwing a slender brown hand toward the Ameri 
 can camp. 
 
 " Who told you ? " Edith may have supposed this as 
 probable, the color deepening in her face, on hearing it 
 asserted. 
 
 " Squaw-blow" replied the child, now breaking into a 
 peal of girl laughter. " Edith remember that night on 
 the Huron, after the young chief went ? " 
 
 " Well, Anita ? "
 
 Squaw-Blow. 153 
 
 " I told her I bring him back." 
 
 " Oh, I remember." 
 
 " Edith said,' Bring him.' " 
 
 " Oh, I did ? " now laughing in turn. " Well, you never 
 brought him naughty girl," with playful reproach. 
 
 " He come to-night," still laughing. 
 
 " Who told you ? " startled by the thought. 
 
 " Squaw-blow" with increasing mirth. 
 
 " What a wonderful flower ! Did it say when he 
 would arrive ? " 
 
 " When the moon is in the tree tops over the river ; 
 Anita bring him. She keep others from sister ; " relaps 
 ing into her earlier form of speech. Then she ran away 
 laughing, avoiding her sister. 
 
 What did the child mean ? At the first her words 
 startled and impressed Edith. She was full of elfin 
 pranks. Edith supposed Dudley was near, and the won 
 der was, Anita had not teased her in this way before. 
 The impression passed from her mind, though the child's 
 words lingered in her memory. When she next met her. 
 the girl's face was unusually grave, contrite, her sister 
 thought, for what she had said. 
 
 The day wore away, the river ran sombre in the deep 
 ening shade of its high bank. The sunlight faded from 
 the trees on the eastern shore, lingered on the American 
 flag-staff and disappeared. Mr. Grayson had been sum 
 moned to meet the general. Edith's lady friends were on 
 a visit to their husbands in the camp. As daylight yielded 
 to confirmed night, she saw Anita on the river's immedi 
 ate bank, watching the moon rising through the eastern 
 tree tops, and then she flitted away. What did it mean ? 
 A sudden tremulous sensation, as if caused by a strange 
 presence, thrilled her, like a chill. She turned, walked
 
 154 The l^orys Daughter. 
 
 over the heavy rugs to a charcoal burner, as for warmth. 
 Two lamps shed a soft light through the canvas apart 
 ment. She heard a little rustle outside the folds of the 
 opening canvas entrance. The eyes and dark face of 
 Anita showed an instant. She drew the heavy folds 
 aside, and Dudley's self entered ! He took a step forward, 
 and halted, as if at the word of command. He held his 
 cap in his hand, and stood an instant spell-bound. 
 
 " Cliff ton ! Gracious Father! what madness is this?" 
 she exclaimed, recoiling a little from him. 
 
 " Madness to meet your wish ? " 
 
 " My wish ? My wish ? What can you mean ? " 
 
 " Lightly, idly spoken, it may be. It was of my seek 
 ing. Anita met and guided me here. " 
 
 " Oh ! the silly, idle child ! Surely she did not you 
 do not mean to say " Unable to finish, the hot blood 
 surging into her face, still showing distress. 
 
 " I sent Carter to her. He brought me this," produc 
 ing Anita's script. 
 
 The girl took it and read " Edith Gray." 
 
 " And you chose to regard her as my emissary ? " The 
 color deepening with something of scorn also in her face, 
 as she remembered her thoughtless words to the girl. 
 
 " She was my emissary," he said quietly. " I may 
 have been mistaken when I received this," he said, unty 
 ing and withdrawing from his neck, the trinket given 
 him by the Shawanoe. 
 
 "Was that given you as from me?" in amazement. 
 
 His answer was a look of surprise. 
 
 " As an avowal, a pledge, unsought, unasked, sent by 
 an Indian chief ? " Her eyes now flashing with indig 
 nant scorn. " Oh, Dudley ! and you thought this of 
 me?"
 
 Sg u a zv-Blow. 155 
 
 " I did not think it an avowal a pledge. I did think 
 it was a permission to remember you. I was mistaken. 
 It was not to say these things I came. Some words I 
 will say, the words I came to say, scornfully as you meet 
 me." 
 
 He took a single step nearer her, touched the ground 
 with his knee, raised his eyes, clasped his hands, and said 
 with passionate fervor, 
 
 " Edith Gray with every fibre of my heart and soul, I 
 love, I reverence you. You are my ideal of womanly per 
 fection." There could be no danger that his sincerity 
 would be questioned. 
 
 Not at the instant did even these words allay the tem 
 pest of her bosom. She turned from him in the pride 
 and anger, which still ruled her, and murmured as to her 
 self, her mind dwelling on his first misapprehension, 
 " Oh, the cruel vanity of a man ! " 
 
 As she turned again to him, he had risen, and stood 
 with a proud abjectness, waiting the return of her eyes, 
 that he might take silent leave. She may have divined 
 his intention. Whatever may have been her purpose, she 
 would not thus have him part from her. 
 
 " Mr. Dudley, you are under a mistake ; you do not 
 know me, even my name," her face softening. 
 
 " Love knows that it loves. It knows when it is 
 scorned. It seeks no further knowledge," he said, his 
 pride and spirit mounting. 
 
 She would not thus be silenced. 
 
 " Did you ever hear the name Grayson Edward 
 Grayson ? " 
 
 " Something of it. He adhered to the king. I know 
 nothing of him," coldly. 
 
 "A Tory! ay, a Tory! Condemned to death, his prop-
 
 156 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 erty confiscated, he escaped to devote himself to retribu 
 tion." She paused. As he made no reply she went on. 
 " Him you met in Ohio. I am the Tory's daughter. 
 Surely you understand now. It was to the Tory's child 
 you proffered love but now ; " and she laughed a bitter 
 scornful laugh. " It was to gain the Shawanoe, Round 
 head, and the Wyandots to this alliance that Dr. Gray 
 made that mission to the Huron, which had failed, were 
 it not for Captain Dudley of the American army. 
 
 " You assaulted the nation of your father and mother, 
 when in dire extremity. You made the necessity which 
 drove us to this alliance. The work was more yours than 
 mine. Why do you reproach us ? You fight by the side 
 of the savage when you do fight. The Shawanoe long 
 had that trinket. I renewed the ribbon that day. It 
 was his gift to you ; not not " mine was on her tongue, 
 she could not say it. "I heard something of the sup 
 posed conspiracy against you. I never knew the truth of 
 it. Shawanoe took it upon himself to care for you." 
 
 " Shawanoe ! Who and what is he ? " 
 
 " Is it possible you do not know ? Tecumseh who 
 could he be ? " Dudley started at this. " I was thought 
 to have influence over him, and through him gained 
 Round-head and the Wyandots." 
 
 " So that was your work ? " 
 
 " Our work." 
 
 " And Frenchtown ! Great God ! " 
 
 " I am the Tory's daughter " yet wincing under 
 this. 
 
 " Return your gift to your chief, or give it to Round 
 head," said the youth, with answering scorn of voice and 
 manner, tossing the bauble upon the ground at her 
 feet.
 
 Squaw-Blow. 157 
 
 "You had better keep it," she said, bending and pick 
 ing it up, touching her lips with it, and drawing his rib 
 bon through her fingers. " It did you good service once. 
 There are men in power here who think your escape from 
 Detroit merits death. They would not hesitate to 
 enforce it against you," she said, showing real concern 
 in her voice and manner, and continuing to caress the 
 ribbon, upon which her eyes fell several times. 
 
 " Let them. The man who endures your scorn has 
 little to fear," he answered. The step of trained men, at 
 that instant caught his ear. " Your friends come," he 
 said with a smile, unmoved. " You saw me in their 
 hands once before, Miss Gray I beg your pardon Miss 
 Grayson. That pleasure is to be yours again." 
 
 Her less accustomed ear now also caught the sound. 
 " Oh ! Cliffton ! you do not you cannot suppose I would 
 betray you ! " clasping her hands in an agony. 
 
 " Why not ? You boast of being the Tory's daughter," 
 laughing with something of his old gayety. 
 
 There came a sharp but low word of command, followed 
 by a thud of musket butts upon the earth, with a rattle of 
 arms and trappings. 
 
 " Oh ! " was Edith's unconscious exclamation. She 
 clapped her hands, and Dudley replacing his foraging cap 
 turned to face what might await him, and the distressed 
 girl escaped from the room unseen. 
 
 A moment later, and a youthful, slightly formed officer 
 entered, cast his eyes about, as if he expected to find 
 others present. 
 
 " You are alone ! " said the intruder, his eyes coming 
 back to Dudley as if surprised. 
 
 " As you say," was the answer, confirmed by his cov 
 ered head.
 
 158 The Torys DangJitcr. 
 
 " Dudley ? " asking his name, in a suggestive form. 
 
 " Dudley," was the laconic reply. 
 
 " Ah ! you see I am not aware of your rank," again 
 glancing around the spacious apartment, as if the man 
 before him was not what he expected to find. 
 
 " My title is of no consequence," was the good-natured 
 reply. 
 
 " I am ordered to arrest Captain or Major Dudley, 
 and conduct him to headquarters/' he said, evincing by 
 voice and manner that the service was distasteful. 
 
 "Arrest? Ah! Capture would not answer, I sup 
 pose ? " quite in his old laughing way. " I am entirely 
 at you disposal, Lieutenant," he added. 
 
 They stepped out to find a squad of twelve soldiers, 
 six facing the entrance, and three each side of it. Dudley 
 laughed at the formidable array, and the evident place 
 intended for him. " I am honored," he said. 
 
 " Well, you see, Dudley," said the officer, laughing in 
 turn, the frank pleasant way of the American putting him 
 at once on the best terms with him " You see, you have 
 such a deuced reputation with us, of disappearing you 
 know." 
 
 "Ah, yes. I appeared to disappear. I remember 
 something of it. Things will happen you know Lieu 
 tenant " 
 
 " Gordon," said the Briton. 
 
 "Thanks, Lieutenant Gordon. I am glad to know 
 you," extending his hand, which was cordially taken, 
 and the two walked off arm in arm, preceded and fol 
 lowed by a platoon of six soldiers. 
 
 A lantern borne by the sergeant lit the way, under the 
 trees. As they went out " May I know the cause of
 
 Squaw-Blow. 159 
 
 my arrest?" asked the American. "A capture in this 
 neighborhood, I could better comprehend," laughing. 
 
 " I am not advised," was the reply. " Perhaps some 
 thing of your departure on an occasion before referred 
 to." 
 
 " Ah, yes. The fact is, Gordon, 1 had not the honor 
 of your attentions then, and really felt neglected," he 
 replied, laughing gayly. 
 
 " I should regret any unpleasant thing here, Dudley, 
 and I do regret that this duty fell to me. You have been 
 talked about some among us boys, and I wish to say, you 
 have friends among us." 
 
 " Thanks, thanks. Your words are very pleasant, very 
 grateful. Those who happen to think well of me, I hope 
 will have no occasion to change their minds." He spoke 
 warmly, and while he could think his position no more 
 than unpleasant, unfortunate in his detention, he gathered 
 himself up to face things as they might arise. 
 
 The interview with Edith had stirred his nature to its 
 depths. There was no sediment there. His faculties, 
 his intellect were aroused, and would work clearly. His 
 feelings were a chaos. That he had been victimized was 
 clear. Whether by himself or the conspiracy of circum 
 stances, was not so clear. Edith was a consummate ac 
 tress. Her surprise, amazement, were certainly genuine, 
 as was the scorn, the contempt, alike of words and voice, 
 look and manner. He would not think she was a party 
 to his capture. If it was planned, Carter would be made 
 prisoner also. If not, Anita would notify him. His 
 confidence was unshaken in her. Carter would learn he 
 was a prisoner. Shawanoe was Tecumseh. Wasegoboah 
 told him this in his Indian way, but he missed his mean 
 ing. He ought to have thought this out for himself.
 
 160 Tlie Tory's Daughter. 
 
 He was glad to know it. Anita was Tecumseh's niece 
 then. He dismissed the chief from his mind. To build 
 on him now would be delusive. He remembered Edith's 
 clapping her hands. It was in his ears constantly, with 
 her exclamation. He would not think it was a signal to 
 Gordon to advance. That gentleman used no stealth in 
 his approach. He might have escaped, but he never 
 thought of it. It was not a place to run from, nor he 
 a man to run from any place.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CARTER BETS ON RESULTS. 
 
 THAT had been something more than an unsatisfac 
 tory day for Proctor. The ominous shock of 
 that i8-pounder of the enemy's battery was slow to dissi 
 pate. There were deeper, older causes of disquiet : 
 smothered differences between himself and officers of 
 detachments under his command ; a lack of harmony 
 between himself and the officers of his own regiment, so 
 fatal to the efficiency of an organization nice and even 
 delicate in some lines, and in the cement of association 
 and confidence found in the best of the British service of 
 that day. Reynolds and his militia, who rendered such 
 gallant service at Frenchtown, capable of good, of excel 
 lent work when well used and commanded, he held in 
 almost open contempt. Stout old St. George had not yet 
 recovered from his wounds. Proctor had been very 
 accurately advised of Harrison's force. His day's bom 
 bardment must advise him of the strength of his works. 
 He knew there was a strong body of men at Fort 
 Winchester, to which messengers had been despatched, 
 as also to Sandusky. He was advised to send his gun 
 boats up the river to intercept and demolish any flotilla 
 that might seek to reinforce the enemy from the upper 
 forts. He derided the idea. 
 
 . " Let them come to us here, the more the better. 
 161
 
 1 62 The Torys Daughter, 
 
 Tecumseh's Indians will have the hair of every devil of 
 them before they get in. And what if they do? the old 
 trap is ready. I'll blow their d d old puncheons out of 
 the ground in an hour," and so he went on. 
 
 Well, he opened the next morning, and now after 
 twenty-four hours of bellowing and thunder, the wall was 
 as strong as ever. 
 
 "No matter," he now said, "a heavy battery would 
 open at daylight from the lower rear." 
 
 " To find another mud bank to fire into," replied the 
 irritating Colonel Elliott. 
 
 This enraged him. He would let them know. He 
 drank all day. Drank brandy after dinner. Its exhilara 
 tion had passed, and he was very irritable. The enemy's 
 expected re-enforcements again came up. Well, they 
 must land somewhere. It was Tecumseh's plan to fall on 
 them, and enter the old pen with such of the survivors as 
 reached it if it still stood, was his reply. 
 
 Then came the report of Dudley's capture. He heard 
 it with great satisfaction, relief in fact. He had been 
 bated a good deal. Here was a man whom he had never 
 seen, yet toward whom he felt a strong grudge, delivered 
 into his hands, and who would not dare answer back. 
 
 " Ah, ha ! So we have him, have we ? The great 
 American walking gentleman. Keep your places, gentle 
 men," to those present, who showed signs of dissolving 
 informally. " We'll make short work of him. What in 
 could have sent him round here ? " 
 
 " He may be backed," suggested Warburton. 
 
 " He's certain to be damned eh, Home ? " casting his 
 eyes toward the officer, was Proctor's reply, coarsely 
 laughing. 
 
 Glances passed between Elliott and Grayson, the last
 
 Carter Bets on Results. 163 
 
 changing his seat to one more obscure. They had not 
 to wait. 
 
 There came a signal from the main entrance. " Bring 
 him in," called the loud voice of the general. 
 
 The escort marched in. The front rank opened, the 
 officer and prisoner advanced two or three steps. The 
 officer saluted, wheeled and took his place in front of his 
 men, in a single rank across the entrance, yet out of 
 hearing, leaving Dudley alone, standing immediately in 
 front of Proctor, three or four yards distant. 
 
 When the rank in front opened, he lifted his cap with a 
 graceful inclination to the general, advanced a step and 
 halted, as much with the manner of the drawing-room as 
 the parade ground. A fine figure, appearing tall in a 
 closely fitting undress of blue, which never looked better 
 then when worn by him ; a frank, handsome, spirited face ; 
 a good head, well and modestly borne, he stood the centre 
 of the eyes of men of wide knowledge, at least of soldiers. 
 His very striking personal advantages, his easy, modest 
 bearing, were not lost on them. Proctor was himself im 
 pressed, and for a little time silent. It incensed him. 
 
 " So, so, young man," he said at length, " who are 
 you ? You have a tongue I s'pose, can't you speak ? " as 
 if it was his duty to open a conference. 
 
 " Dudley my name is Dudley," in an ordinary tone, 
 in no way moved by the general's manner. 
 
 " Dudley yes Dudley. You have another haven't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Cliffton." 
 
 " Dudley Cliffton ? " 
 
 " I have been called Dudley Cliffton." 
 
 " Oh, you have been called Dudley Cliffton, have you ?
 
 164 The Tory s Daughter. 
 
 Take notice, gentlemen ; " looking about as if a strong 
 point was gained. 
 
 " On the roll I am written Cliffton Dudley." 
 
 " The deuce you are ! Ah, yes, I see. You are Cliffton 
 Dudley on the roll ; when you roll off, you are Dudley 
 Cliffton," laughing coarsely at his own wit. " Well, on 
 or off, you have some rank over there," with a nod of 
 the head toward the American side " you did not give 
 it to the officer who arrested you, I've been informed." 
 
 " He did not ask it." 
 
 "Not ask it? Tell Gordon to step forward," which 
 he did. 
 
 " Now repeat what you said, Mr. Dudley Cliffton." 
 
 " He knew my name. Excused himself, as I took it, 
 for not giving me a rank title, Baying he did not know 
 what it was." 
 
 " Well your answer to that ? " 
 
 " I replied it was no matter." 
 
 " Oh, ah, very well. Now, Mr. No-Matter Dudley, you 
 have some rank ? " 
 
 " I rightfully wear this," laying a finger on the sign of 
 rank, modestly. 
 
 " You should bear in mind that we so seldom see your 
 regulation coat that we are to be excused for not know 
 ing its quarterings," said Home, with the ease of one 
 privileged. 
 
 The sally was received with a loud laugh by the gen 
 eral, and echoed by Colonel Short and one or two more. 
 
 " Right right, Home. We've seen it on some of my 
 Indians though," responded Proctor, with another laugh. 
 
 " Your Indians have the reputation of taking the hair 
 also," said the prisoner with a smile. 
 
 Absolute silence followed this speech, and then
 
 Carter Bets on Results. 165 
 
 " How ! How ! " roared Proctor. " This to my face ? 
 By young man ! do you know where you are ? An 
 swer ; do you know where you are and who you are ? " 
 
 " I heard the order to conduct me to the general's 
 marquee. I presume I am before the Prince Regent's 
 general commanding his forces now investing Camp 
 Meigs, and a board of British officers. I am a prisoner. 1 ' 
 This was very well said. The pathos of his position was 
 expressed with a force that reached many present. An 
 officer arose. Ere he could speak 
 
 " Take your seat, Colonel Elliott. There is no occasion 
 for interference. What is your rank, Mr. Dudley ? come, 
 that is a square question." 
 
 " I am a major of the regular service." 
 
 " So, so, we have a major. Why could you not tell me 
 that before ? " 
 
 " I am not a volunteer," with his eyes in the distance. 
 
 " Well, who in said you were ? I won't be trifled 
 
 with," frowning. 
 
 " He means," said a quiet voice from the shadow, 
 " that he cannot volunteer a statement. That question 
 had not been asked him." 
 
 " Who is conducting this examination ? " sharply, with 
 a flash in the direction of the voice. " So you were caught 
 sneaking through my camp ? " to his prisoner. 
 
 " I was honored with an armed escort when I entered 
 your camp." 
 
 " Well, you'll be honored in the same way when you 
 leave it," (acknowledged by a bow from the prisoner ;) 
 " if you ever do, " was added. 
 
 " Well, skulking outside my camp then ? " 
 
 " Your officer can inform you where I was found, possi 
 bly."
 
 1 66 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " Possibly ! young man, I'll have no trifling answer." 
 
 " Your question asserts what was not true. Choosing 
 to take the risk, I had a perfect right everywhere outside 
 your lines. I approached a tent occupied by persons of 
 the civil service, outside your camp." 
 
 "Ah, you did. Come now that is something like. 
 Go on go on can't you ? Of course you were expected 
 there ? " 
 
 " Very clearly I was not," with modest emphasis. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! not expected you took somebody by 
 surprise ? " 
 
 " I may have surprised some one ; I think I did very 
 much. I was myself taken. If my opinion is of value, I 
 was not only not expected, I was not wished." 
 
 " Not wished no, I should think not. Well, sir ? " 
 
 "I should have gone as I came but for the polite 
 attentions of Lieutenant Gordon quite gratuitous." 
 
 " You had a purpose in your visit." 
 
 " I had." 
 
 " State it." 
 
 " Purely personal. It had no reference to the public 
 service." 
 
 " You decline to state it ? " 
 
 " Most decidedly," smiling pleasantly. 
 
 " Oh, decidedly you will not. Well, Major we will see, 
 we will see. In your fort, camp, yard, pen the place 
 where you stay when not out on a private lark, what are 
 your duties ? " 
 
 " Well, just now, keeping the British and Indian gen 
 erals out of it," laughing in his old way. 
 
 " And a d d troublesome job you find it, young 
 man."
 
 Carter Bets on Results. 167 
 
 " Pure idleness, or you would not have found me 
 here." 
 
 "You find this very funny very funny, no doubt, no 
 doubt. You are on the staff of General Harry Harry- 
 son, are you ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Quite in his confidence so sprightly an officer, out 
 on a lark. You know his plans his expectations ? " 
 
 " In a general way yes. He plans to defend his 
 position. He expects to do it." 
 
 "Good God, young man ! You forget who I am. Do 
 you know General Harrison's plans ?." 
 
 " General Harrison communicates so much of his mind 
 as secures an intelligent execution of his orders ; no more. 
 There is no babble about his headquarters. No one 
 divides responsibility with him." 
 
 " Ah ! a very Marlborough, no doubt. He may wish 
 there was. You know his present force ? " 
 
 ; ' I knew what it was at sundown. I do not know what 
 it may be." 
 
 " Well, what was it at sundown ? I'll answer for the 
 increase I say I'll answer for the increase ! Mind now 
 I know his exact force, to a man." 
 
 " Ah ! that relieves me from telling you. Thanks." 
 
 " It does, does it ? We'll see." 
 
 " One does not like to have his word doubted even by 
 those he is compelled to hold his enemies. Were I to 
 tell you the exact truth, you would believe I intended to 
 deceive you." 
 
 " Ah. ha ! Ah, ha ! Here is a model young man for 
 you, gentlemen. I suppose you have no objection to 
 telling me what they were up to, when you left ? "
 
 i68 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 "None in the least. Getting ready for the battery you 
 are now kindly planting below the ravine," carelessly. 
 
 Proctor glared around, but said nothing. 
 
 " You expect reinforcements ? " 
 
 " We've room and rations for a few more," looking as 
 if in the distance. 
 
 There were those present who enjoyed this exami 
 nation. 
 
 Home said in an aside " Damned clever way of put 
 ting things." 
 
 " Yes," answered Warburton. " If he was dangling 
 after my girl, I'd shoot 'im myself, or get it done" 
 
 Home glanced up at him, but said nothing. 
 
 Proctor had another his sole purpose. What it 
 really was there is nothing to show, and it was always 
 a matter of dispute among his officers. 
 
 " Major Dudley, you were of the army of invasion, 
 retreat, and surrender ? " 
 
 " I was." 
 
 " You commanded the cavalry ? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 "You are charged with this that on the i6th day of 
 August last, at Detroit, after the surrender, and before 
 rendering yourself a prisoner of war, as was your duty, 
 you escaped, and without exchange are now captured in 
 arms, and thereby have incurred the just penalty of 
 death. To this what say you ? " 
 
 " That you have no authority of any law to thus arraign 
 me- As a prisoner charged, I say nothing." A mo 
 ment's silence. " As a gentleman I am very willing to 
 satisfy a laudable curiosity. I was aware of the surren 
 der. I saw your column advance, pursuant to terms, I 
 presume. I walked away in presence of your whole
 
 Carter Bets on Results. 169 
 
 army, in broad day through your curtain of Indians, all 
 seemingly willing I should go. I reached Frenchtown 
 quite early, reported at once for duty. I am captured in 
 the military service of the United States. I have vio 
 lated no law, betrayed no confidence, incurred no pen 
 alty." Modestly, yet spiritedly this was said. 
 
 " The prisoner confesses the charge and specifications," 
 said Proctor. 
 
 " He denies your pretence of law, and defies your 
 authority," was the reply, taking a step forward, with an 
 energetic downward sweep of his closed right hand, his 
 manner proud, scornful, and defiant. 
 
 " As Commander-in-Chief, in presence of the enemy, 
 I assume the entire responsibility. The prisoner, Major 
 Dudley, will be shot to death at sunrise," truculently. 
 " Major Muir will see this order executed." 
 
 Every man in the marquee sprang to his feet, with 
 various exclamations. 
 
 " Remove the prisoner ; " who stood, the only com 
 posed person present, his face breaking into its old-time 
 laughing expression. 
 
 As Gordon conducted him out, Mr. Grayson hurriedly 
 passed them. 
 
 The party halted at a camp-fire, now quite deserted, 
 where Home, very much agitated, joined it. 
 
 " My dear fellow," he exclaimed to Dudley, seemingly 
 much distressed, " was there ever anything so deuced 
 beastly ? " 
 
 " Outside the British camp, I should say no," was the 
 laughing answer. 
 
 " Such ah of a " 
 
 " Don't break your heart over it," said Dudley, ironi 
 cally.
 
 170 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 " My dear Major, you carry it off d d splendidly 
 
 but don't deceive yourself. You don't know Proctor." 
 
 " Well, I must be stupid, then. He'll have no idea of 
 shooting a man on such an order, made in such a farce." 
 
 Home solemnly shook his head. 
 
 " All right," said Dudley, examining his watch. " It's 
 some time to sunrise. Your camp may be stormed before 
 that time," laughing carelessly. 
 
 " Oh, we'll look to that," said Home, with a start, spite 
 of himself. " Is there anything I can say or do ? " He 
 seemed nervous and anxious. " Any message ? " 
 
 "You are very kind, Captain nothing occurs to me," 
 turning away, a feeling of repugnance to the Englishman 
 arising in his bosom. 
 
 "Well, I shall do all I can," he persisted in saying. 
 
 " Thanks." 
 
 Home had a few words with Gordon, aside, and 
 walked rapidly away. As he did so, Gordon muttered 
 something, which, to Dudley, sounded like " insufferable 
 puppy." 
 
 Gordon stood in thought an instant, and turning to 
 Dudley, said : " What do you suppose Home said to me ? " 
 
 " I have not the slightest idea." 
 
 " He would not have said it now, had he not wanted 
 you should hear of it or hear it, I presume." 
 
 " Well, I'm not greatly interested in anything he may 
 say about any earthly thing. I know him pretty well." 
 
 " Well, I'm to be relieved here, and while waiting, may 
 as well mention it. Well, ' had a certain American officer 
 known a certain young lady was engaged you know ' 
 Oh, the d d puppy ! " 
 
 " Well, there are puppies and d d puppies, and a
 
 Carter Bets on Results. 171 
 
 choice lot beyond," added Dudley, laughing. " When 
 the thing you intimate occurs, I'll send congratulations." 
 
 An officer approached and saluted. Gordon turned to 
 Dudley. " My dear Dudley, I am sure we shall meet 
 again ; until then, good-bye, luck go with you," extending 
 his hand. 
 
 " We shall meet, my dear boy, and I shall remember 
 you as long as I live." They shook hands, and Gordon, 
 dismissing his soldiers to their quarters, turned to his 
 own. 
 
 The relieving officer touched his plumeless hat to the 
 prisoner, saying in a business way, " I am to show you 
 quarters for the night ; not all I could wish, Major Dud 
 ley." 
 
 " I am quite at your service. You'll find me not diffi 
 cult to please." He saw nothing to indicate the rank 
 though the bearing of the stranger was distinguished. 
 
 "The place is a little distant; you will find some con 
 veniences there, to compensate may make something out 
 of them." The tone of this speech the latter part, was 
 peculiar. 
 
 The two officers, preceded by two soldiers and a ser 
 geant, and followed by two more, lighted now by a torch, 
 moved past the tents, the last sentinel, past some trees, 
 struck a well-beaten, though now little used, path, which 
 led along the slope of the second bank in a way to 
 ascend considerably and among trees. They passed a 
 dark structure, and reached a second, which they ap 
 proached. The torch disclosed a door-way, now open. 
 Here they entered. The sergeant produced and lit two 
 small metal lamps which he placed on a table within. 
 By their light the room looked large and cheerless. Two 
 or three blankets were lying near the table, on which was
 
 172 The Tory s Daughter. 
 
 a refection of bread, cold meat, and a bottle of wine, or 
 spirits, with a tin cup. Dudley's idea was that the apart 
 ment was new and unfinished, or old and dilapidated, 
 though the air was fresh. 
 
 " I hope you will find things to suit you. I commend 
 the prog ; you may need it. The wine is specially good. 
 I will close the door as I go out. The guards will not 
 trouble you. Good night." 
 
 He turned and drew the door to behind him, gave his 
 orders to the guards left in charge, and Dudley heard his 
 footsteps an instant, as he moved away. Apparently 
 sentinels were placed, one in front and one on each side 
 of the building. 
 
 Dudley glanced around him. The room was large, 
 without windows, of much depth, and had several angles. 
 His mind was active, at first summarizing the happenings 
 of the evening, and after this fashion " Well, Cliff my 
 boy this is an experience for one evening. A declara 
 tion, a rejection of course, a capture, trial, found guilty, 
 sentenced to be shot^ and " consulting his watch " not 
 yet eleven o'clock and here I am. I wonder how I 
 should have got out of it, had it not been for Gordon 
 Little Gordon, the boys all call him. Pure gold, he 
 couldn't be large. It was a deuced awkward place, reject 
 a man and not let him go. On the whole Gordon inter 
 vened in my favor. This " looking around " is pref 
 erable to that." Then his mind jumped to the present 
 conditions. " If Carter was captured, it would be kept 
 from me. He is not. He could not be. No one could 
 find him but Anita. She told Tecumseh of my getting 
 away from Detroit from the fort ; she'll tell of this. 
 This is some of Home's work. Well I don't wish Miss 
 Grayson such a fate. Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! and oh dear
 
 Carter Bets on Results. 173 
 
 again. Cliff old boy if I catch you whining self-pity- 
 ng if I do catch you mind ! Well, he hoped I'd find 
 conveniences compensating conveniences for the long 
 walk so I am remote and am to find conveniences. Make 
 something out of them out." He breathed a low whistle. 
 " The guards not to be troublesome. I would like the 
 prog ; the wine good. I'll try 'em and then look a little 
 into these same conveniences Thanks," uncovering a 
 savory joint of cold meat, which he ate of with relish. 
 Then he tried the bottle, in which the cork had been 
 started. On removing it, and lifting to test by its fra 
 grance " Brandy, for the world ! well there is meaning 
 in that. I'd better take some the bottle, if the conveni 
 ences to compensate " a slight sound had once or twice 
 reached his ear. " A rat ? and ' dead for ducket.' It's 
 not that sounds more as if something or somebody 
 wanted my attention. I really have little else to do. 
 Eleven," examining and returning his watch. Then 
 his mind took another freak. " Grayson ! How I was 
 sold ! one of the Boston Tory Graysons. Was that his 
 voice ? and I thought he brushed past me. ' Shot to 
 death at sunrise ? ' what a truculent old duffer. ' Duffer, 
 a dealer in contraband ' Eh ! Not rats certainly," as 
 something like drawing a stick along a wall or hard sur 
 face, in the dim back distance, beyond the light of his 
 lamps reached his ear. He took a slight sip of the 
 generous liquor, whose bouquet imparted its fruity flavor 
 to the atmosphere about him. Some of it he turned 
 upon his bread, and then listened for a time to the faint 
 tread of the sentinel, pacing slowly forward and back 
 ward in front of the door, apparently making a beat of 
 thirty or forty feet ; the only steps he could hear. Then 
 he turned back, leaving the lamps outside eyes might
 
 1/4 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 be on him. He would not aid them by lighting his way. 
 
 He passed back to an angle where he fancied was a 
 door, whence came the sounds he had heard. It was an 
 open passage way, and dark. There as he looked stead 
 ily into it he saw the shadowy outline of a man. A hand 
 seemed to beckon him. He stepped boldly forward and 
 clasped the extended member, which drew him willingly 
 forward. As they moved along the totally dark way he 
 heard a volley of five or six guns outside, immediately 
 followed by shots from the sentinels. Soon a ladder was 
 reached, up which went the silent form of mystery, and 
 Dudley followed. Very many rounds were ascended and 
 an upper floor gained, over which he was led to an out 
 side opening. Dudley had entered at the east end. This 
 was in the west. From this, the guide stepped out, 
 followed by the American, who found himself on the edge 
 of the high table-land, sweeping indefinitely away, from 
 the bluff. The firing was from the river side. The alarm 
 reached the camp, whence came sounds of men getting 
 under arms. The guide stood still and silent the fourth 
 of a minute. 
 
 " My young brother is safe," then he said, in a low, 
 musical voice which the American knew. 
 
 " Shawanoe ! Tecumseh ! " breathed Dudley in won 
 der and delight. "Next the Great Spirit, Dudley 
 thanks his elder brother ! " with fervor these words were 
 spoken. 
 
 " My brother trusts Tecumseh ? " 
 
 " As he would God." 
 
 The chief led him westward a few yards, moving noise 
 lessly and then turned northward. The drums beat in 
 the camp and the commotion increased. 
 
 " My English Father, General Proctor, is disturbed in
 
 Carter Bets on Results. 175 
 
 his sleep," said the chief contemptuously. " His senti 
 nels will hear nothing but his drums now." Some dis 
 tance was gained, and in the darkness of the wood, 
 safety. They reached the little ravine in the rear of the 
 Grayson tents, and paused, 
 
 " Shawanoe does not take back a gift, " he said a 
 little sadly, placing a small parcel, containing the decora 
 tion of the German Princess, in Dudley's hand. 
 
 " General," said the greatly moved youth, receiving it 
 and grasping the chiefs hand, " for this, for your most 
 generous aid last summer, how can I ever thank you 
 repay you ? " 
 
 " When not in battle, be kind to my poor Indians." 
 
 " As the Great Spirit aids me, so will I ever." 
 
 " My English brother, Mr. Grayson, told me. My 
 brother owes him thanks." 
 
 " I am very, very glad. Tell him how glad I am to 
 thank him." 
 
 " And my little sister ? " 
 
 " Dudley is very grateful to her ; loves her as a true 
 sister. I owe her many thanks." 
 
 " My brother glads Tecumseh's heart. My English 
 sister ? " 
 
 He paused for an answer. None came. " My young 
 brother's soul is dark toward her. Tecumseh can now 
 walk this wood as in the sunshine. He does not know 
 the way of a woman's heart. My young brother is very 
 brave, is very comely in men's and women's eyes. No 
 woman in her heart scorns him. His scout waits. He 
 may sound his signal." 
 
 Dudley placed a small instrument to his lips, and pro 
 duced a good imitation of the peculiar whistle of the
 
 176 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 small brown owl, heard usually only in the early part of 
 the evening. 
 
 " Good ! " said the chief. " Late in the night for that 
 call." 
 
 Dudley repeated it, and received it back as an echo, 
 from the upper part of the ravine. The chief passed 
 noiselessly toward the river, where a canoe with a 
 single rower, received and passed him to the east side. 
 Dudley could see the ghostly sheen of the Grayson tents, 
 through the trees, not fifty yards distant, and heard the 
 mingled notes of the frogs, the croakers and hylodes, 
 from the river's margin. It seemed a month, a year an 
 age, since he had passed down this glen conducted by the 
 Indian maiden, toward these tents that then seemed to 
 glow and invite so cold and repellant now. A change 
 of the world, of life and hope had come upon him since 
 then. He turned from the pale uncertain shimmer, to 
 Carter, moving down to him at the trysting tree. They 
 met and stole away in silence. 
 
 Ere they gained a distance which made oral confidence 
 prudent, the acute perception of the scout received the 
 impression that the usually light, elastic youth, from 
 whom he parted so fresh and buoyant, and now found 
 in a drooping, languid form, must have received a hurt. 
 At length, when he felt secure 
 
 " Wounded ? " 
 
 " No. Why ? " 
 
 " I never seen ye so pimpin like." 
 
 To this" no answer. The old hunter with the young 
 man whom he loved as the pet youngest of the family 
 the crown of human perfection now certainly safe, felt 
 like giving an Indian whoop. Something had gone 
 wrong. He would liven him up with cheerful talk.
 
 Carter Bets on Results. 177 
 
 " Pears to me, Major, like 'twas a darned dose shave" 
 
 "Well, interesting rather." 
 
 " How'd ye spose they found it out enny way ? " 
 
 " By one of the girls possibly." 
 
 " No, no, Major. Wimin is safe purty ginerly. That 
 Ingin gal wal a feller couldn't do better ef he could 
 git 'er if 'e wanted 'er that is." 
 
 " She is for no feller" said the major, quickened with 
 the idea that a feller could aspire to this splendid dark 
 princess of the forest. " Why she is the niece of Tecum- 
 seh ! " 
 
 " Du tell ! wal I never ! " 
 
 " Who do you suppose Shawanoe is ? Did you ever 
 think of that ? " 
 
 " Wal, I've spicioned, then agin I dunno." 
 
 " He is Tecumseh himself." 
 
 " Wal, I'd kinder thought mebby," showing less sur 
 prise than Dudley expected. 
 
 " He told me so. Called himself Tecumseh to me." 
 
 " O-h ! So that's his work is it ? " referring to 
 the alarm. " So that's Tecumsey ! Wal ! Wal ! Wal ! " 
 as if to himself. 
 
 " Now, Carter see here. Neither you or I can kill or 
 capture Tecumseh no matter what the chance is." 
 
 " All right. It seems only fair. They do say though, 
 Major, he an' ole Proc. has agreed, when they take Gin- 
 eral Harrisin, the Ingins shall burn 'im." 
 
 " I know it ; and men who know better, believe it. 
 Why should he rescue me ? " 
 
 " Wal, I has my notion o' that. Why'd 'e take ye 
 away frum the Huern ? " 
 
 This touched a hurt, and Dudley made no answer. 
 
 " How did you know what happened to me to-night ? "
 
 178 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " The Ingin gal tole me." 
 
 " Oh, she did ! Bless her heart ! I thought so. How 
 did she suppose the British found out I was there ? " 
 
 " Hadn't no idee. She thinks Capen Home some 
 way " 
 
 " Ah ! Tecumseh warned me of him on the Huron." 
 
 " Home ? Wai, 'e ain't to be spaired is 'e ? " with a 
 laugh. 
 
 " He is to marry our Miss Gray so they say. So he 
 says." 
 
 " Bah ! a hundred times to that Ye seen 'er uv 
 course ? " 
 
 " She was utterly surprised at seeing me. She had no 
 way of letting my presence be known, if she had wanted 
 to." 
 
 " I guess she didn't ! Wy, Majer bless 'er eyes, she'd 
 give one on 'em fer ye enny time, only y'ed ruther have 
 it w'ere it is. Don't tell me ! " 
 
 " Well, Carter, I wouldn't risk an empty egg-shell that 
 she cares for me." The poor young man could not help 
 saying so much. 
 
 " Oh, pshaw ! fellers an gals gals speshaly has ter 
 hev a time o' playin off like a fox savin 'er pups, 
 an' she draws ye off an' on. Mebby ye sed suthin, or ye 
 didn't, 'er done suthin, or let it alone ; 'er 'twant the 
 right way, ye took 'er wrong a feller never knows they 
 say. I'll bet a dozzen bear skins to a musquash tail, 
 she'd jump to have ye the fust chance now." 
 
 Dudley heard Carter's analysis of a )'oung lady's nature 
 with amazement. He always gave him credit for large 
 acquired practical wisdom. This must be intuitive ; the 
 unused wisdom stored in men's natures. What he said 
 was
 
 Carter Bets on Results. 179 
 
 " All right. I will take that bet. Just now, I don't 
 care whether I win or lose." 
 
 " Oh, that's where ye'r hurt ! Wai, I'll make anuther 
 bet. Fifty deer skins ye'll ask 'er, if the ole gent don't 
 gin 'er to ye fust." 
 
 " I'll take that too," laughing now at Carter's grotesque 
 absurdities. 
 
 " Oh, I know now jes how 'twas. Ye's havin one o' 
 them air times, an' the British cum an kerried ye off fore 
 'twas through that's jest it now, want it, Majer ? " laugh 
 ing heartily. 
 
 " Well, something like, I do believe ; " a good deal 
 brightened by Carter's conversation, and wondering what 
 had come over the old man. 
 
 They now approached the river above the camp, where 
 was hidden their birch canoe, and much caution was 
 necessary. They traversed the Maumee and the camp 
 was gained in safety. 
 
 It was late, or, accurately, early, when they gained 
 entrance. Dudley had much information for his general. 
 
 He opened the parcel given him by the chief. It 
 contained the German decoration, with a change of the 
 suspending ribbon, not then observed. Edith and the 
 thought of her love were now to be put by for all time.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 DAY OF BATTLES THE MEETING. 
 
 BRIGHTLY broke the third morning of the siege on 
 forest, river, plain and the hostile camps. In the 
 British there was the flavor of the last night's racket, the 
 cause of which was a mystery to man and officer. The 
 soldiers saw by the camp fires, a gay young officer in 
 closely fitting blue, marched to and from the general's 
 marquee. The higher officers knew something more. As 
 stated, the real purpose of the general was matter of 
 speculation, and various comments and asides were 
 indulged in. It was known the prisoner had escaped, 
 and generally supposed to have been by an attack of his 
 own party. Proctor so far as known, beyond setting on 
 foot a perfunctory inquiry, never spoke of the fate of his 
 prisoner. Certainly his papers and despatches contain 
 no reference to him. 
 
 Some supposed the disturbance was a wholly inde 
 pendent thing. " Some of Dickson's Indians came upon 
 an out-picket, and were fired on." " Dickson's Indians " 
 were usually responsible for the awkward things which no 
 one would father. 
 
 Proctor was in good temper that morning and merely 
 remarked, "D n 'em, I'll show 'em. When they surren 
 der this time there'll be no leaking out, I'll bet," which 
 may have referred to the adventure of the night before. 
 
 1 80
 
 Day of Battles The Meeting. 181 
 
 With daylight the batteries on the eastern side opened 
 on palisades and another grand traverse of earth. It 
 was annoying as well as baffling. The cannonade from 
 all the siege guns, mortars and cohorns was loud and 
 furious all day and all night, pounding and resounding in 
 senseless rage and noise, the American replying from 
 his lighter guns as occasion presented the chance of an 
 effective shot, showing that had they been well armed 
 and supplied, their enemy would have suffered severely 
 in his exposed batteries. 
 
 All day and all night, and all the morning of the fourth 
 day, when a flag of truce showed from the heavy battery, 
 and all the guns, mortars and cohorns were silent. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the American general, ordering an answer 
 ing flag. " So having demonstrated his inability to harm 
 me, I am to be now, politely after the manner of an Eng 
 lishman, asked to submit. Such a demand two days ago 
 would have been more logical. Well, Dudley, they are 
 old friends of yours. You shall do the honors. They 
 must be anxious for your health, and will be very glad to 
 see you," he said, laughing pleasantly. 
 
 A boat with a flag approached in line of the enemy's 
 eastern battery, and in due time the insignia appeared at 
 the margin of the forest, 300 yards away. There it was 
 met by Dudley with an escort. Warburton and Home 
 bore Proctor's message. 
 
 The Ohio men who manned the fort, the young 
 Kentucky officers of Harrison's family, to whom formal 
 war and its usages were new, with eager eyes followed 
 the form of his officer as he moved ever the ground, 
 blackened from the late burning of the trees which 
 recently covered it. Many thought it a lure to regain 
 possession of his person, having heard some rumors
 
 1 82 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 of his night's adventure. Very many expected to see 
 him fall under the guns of the Indians. Hundreds of 
 savage eyes flashed from the forest, on the little party as 
 it passed. 
 
 The officers exchanged the formal salutations of flags, 
 and moved toward the fort, the English guard remaining 
 at the forest's edge. 
 
 Home's face was a study that morning to some of the 
 juniors in camp. It was schooled very well, and he may 
 have anticipated who would meet him. Dudley received 
 him with the gay frankness of the Ohio days. Warbur- 
 ton scanned him many times and saw small signs of the 
 rejected lover, the condemned, twice-sentenced, of the 
 late adventure. Home also, as opportunity occurred, 
 studied his face and manner with a wondering curiosity. 
 
 As they approached the gate to which they were con 
 ducted, Warburton lingered for the expected bandage. 
 
 " Oh, it is not necessary," said the American. " It is 
 your one chance," laughing. 
 
 Thought may have been taken for the appearance 
 inside to be seen by the Englishmen ; while everything 
 was in its usual form the men nevertheless grouped and 
 conducted themselves, so as to do no discredit to their 
 officers. 
 
 An arch led through the eastern grand traverse and up 
 the wide avenue to the general's marquee, the entrance 
 of which was broadly open, showing the chief, and a 
 glittering staff, ready to receive the enemy's summons. 
 
 The embassy advanced with a grave dignity. Warbur 
 ton, whose rank by blood entitled him to be received by 
 his prince, himself a superior man, took a rapid survey of 
 the American general, and carried away a satisfactory 
 impression. Above the ordinary height, broad browed,
 
 Day of Battles The Meeting. 183 
 
 fine head carried well, handsome features, large, dark, 
 lustrous eyes, which notwithstanding their size flashed 
 with the quick, assured glance of one accustomed to 
 observe everything and note for himself, and which 
 matched well with his dark, clear complexion ; broad 
 shouldered, yet light and active, he would be a marked 
 figure anywhere. 
 
 The Englishmen halted at the prescribed point. Dud 
 ley, plumed chapeau in hand, stepped forward, with a 
 graceful inclination to his chief, turned to the Britons, 
 announced them by their titles, names and present office, 
 and moved aside. 
 
 The English officers bowed with the dignity of their 
 mission, and Colonel Warburton said : 
 
 " General Proctor, commanding the British forces now 
 investing this place, requires that it be unconditionally 
 surrendered to him. I am instructed to make this de 
 mand of General Harrison, here commanding." 
 
 This was well and impressively delivered. 
 
 " Your general doubtless feels warranted in making 
 this demand," replied Harrison, in a cool, sonorous voice, 
 with a slight smile playing around the large bland 
 mouth. " I feel warranted in declining to entertain it for 
 one moment." 
 
 " General Proctor has a large, well appointed force, and 
 ample material," urged the Englishman. 
 
 " His entire available means are immediately before 
 me. He has a low estimate of my intelligence, if he 
 supposes I have now to learn their extent, and from him 
 self. He certainly has afforded me ample opportunity to 
 judge his power of annoying me." Almost playfully this 
 was said, a smile lighting up the fine face now decidedly. 
 
 " General Harrison is too good a soldier not to know
 
 1 84 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 that General Proctor as yet has employed but one of 
 several means of annoyance," added the Englishman a 
 little sarcastically. 
 
 "I shall await his change of tactics with composure. 
 Say to your general if he ever acquires this place, it 
 will be by means infinitely more creditable to him than 
 a thousand surrenders. His demand is unqualifiedly 
 refused." 
 
 " I regret to bear this answer to my general," with a 
 leave-taking inclination of the head. 
 
 " I should be unhappy were I compelled to send him 
 any other," with a courteous wave of the plumed chapeau. 
 
 Dudley returned the British officers to their guard. 
 They were on the whole favorably impressed by the 
 American and his surroundings. Obviously his camp 
 would be won by the hardest. The general, as Warbur- 
 ton saw, had the qualities to make a successful com 
 mander of irregular troops. Spirited, fearless, popular, a 
 born orator, though he heard none of the free forms of 
 speech that startled some of the Western Reserve Puri 
 tans, and which seemed graceful from his lips even to 
 them. 
 
 Silently the embassadors, attended by Dudley, moved 
 back to the point of meeting. A few words only were 
 spoken between Home and the American as they ap 
 proached the English guard, not of the slightest signifi 
 cance. The leave-taking would have been silent, but as 
 the Englishmen turned away, Dudley laughingly called 
 out to Home " Wai, look out ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " he exclaimed, called back by the remembered 
 words. " I see old Carter is with you." 
 
 " Of course he is." 
 
 " Ah ! " reflectively. " I might have known. I echo
 
 Day of Battles The Meeting. 185 
 
 ' wal, look out.' " With this reminiscence, the younger 
 officers parted. The flags of truce were struck, and the 
 artillery re-awakened the echoes. 
 
 There had been much running through the woods by 
 Harrison's scouts and runners, as up and down the 
 Maumee, by Captain Oliver, young Combs, and others. 
 Some got through Tecumseh's net-work of Indians, some 
 failed, some fell. 
 
 General Green Clay was at Winchester (Defiance) 
 with 1200 Kentuckians. Proctor's guns were heard 
 there, and he prepared to sweep down the river to Harri 
 son's aid. He had eighteen scow-boats, the sides of 
 which were built high enough, with thick wooden shields, 
 to protect from Indian gunnery. In these he embarked 
 his entire force, and reached the upper end of the 
 Rapids at the close of this day of the siege, which was the 
 fourth of the young May, also. The intention was to re 
 sume the voyage so as to reach the landing at the fort, 
 at daylight of the fifth, eighteen or twenty miles below. 
 During that night he communicated with Harrison, and 
 received an answer and orders. These required him to 
 land 800 men a half mile above the fort on the British 
 side under the senior colonel, attack, carry the batteries, 
 spike and dismount the guns, return to their boats, cross 
 over and fight their way into the fort. The terms were 
 direct and clear, admitting of no discretion. The residue, 
 400, were to land on the fort side and at once push for 
 the camp. The forces in camp would be held in hand, 
 to aid the admission of the Kentuckians. This accom 
 plished, a sortie of the regulars, under Miller, was to carry 
 the batteries on that side, and disable the guns. The 
 plan was bold and skilful. Its execution dependent on 
 raw troops so far as Clay was concerned, of unquestioned
 
 1 86 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 fighting qualities, the kindred of those who fell at French- 
 town, and with them represented the best blood of Ken 
 tucky. 
 
 Care will be necessary to a clear apprehension of the 
 events of the day, happening on both sides of the river, 
 at the same time, and for which a map and diagram are 
 necessary. 
 
 Tecumseh was not apprised of the approach of the 
 Kentuckians, but he will be found ready. If they reach 
 the fort, numbers would be equalized with the advantage 
 of artillery and discipline on one side, more than balanced 
 by position on the other. 
 
 Five miles above Camp Meigs, the programme, with 
 full instructions, was placed in Clay's hands. His boats 
 advanced in the order of intended action. The twelve 
 first carried the men who were to storm and disable the 
 batteries on the British side, situated the best part of two 
 miles above Proctor's camp, the approaches to which 
 were covered by the heavy forest of the region. 
 
 The senior colonel of Clay, save in personal courage, 
 was unequal to an enterprise so simple as this, unfort 
 unately committed to his hand. He landed, formed 
 in three columns, with Combs' company of spies and 
 Logan's Indians, armed with rifles, in advance. Beyond 
 the order to carry the guns, wherever found, he gave no 
 directions or instructions to his officers in command, but 
 pushed forward. It seems that Combs and the left 
 column passed the batteries in their rear. When the 
 colonel's immediate command discovered the enemy, the 
 Kentuckians raised the Indian war whoop, and made a 
 rush. Lightly supported, taken by surprise, the gunners 
 were slain and scattered in a breath. The colonel 
 should then have disabled the guns, recalled his men,
 
 Day of Battles The Meeting, 187 
 
 hurried to his boats, and hastened to the camp. The 
 woods on that side were full of Indians, with over a 
 thousand soldiers just out of rifle shot below. What he 
 did was to pull down the British flag, and give three 
 cheers, which were answered by three from Camp Meigs, 
 when his men, curious, broke and scattered about, ex 
 amining things, careless of their exposed position and 
 duty. 
 
 Harrison from the platform of his main battery, saw 
 everything, and signalled the captors to hurry toward his 
 camp, in vain. Already he heard the notes of getting 
 under arms, in the British camp, and the position of the 
 Kentuckians was critical in the extreme. They would 
 neither see, hear, or know. Major Dudley was at his 
 general's side, sharing his anxiety. He volunteered to 
 cross and personally recall the incapable colonel, and 
 summoning Carter, hurried to execute his purpose. 
 Events on the British side were rapidly reaching a bloody 
 climax in advance of him. 
 
 The whoop of the Kentuckians went with startling 
 effect through the woods, reached the English camp and 
 the ear of every Indian within miles of them. Each 
 warrior sprang to his weapons. Every soldier at the 
 instant drum beat, was in place to meet whatever men- 
 anced them. Tecumseh thought it a signal not only of 
 an assault of their batteries, instantly silenced, but an 
 attack upon Proctor's camp by a force which warranted 
 it. 
 
 Then came the cheers and answering cheers of the 
 Americans. Combs came upon the nearest Indians, and 
 rushed to attack them, as a Kentuckian would. His 
 enemy gave way, he pursued, and was surrounded. His 
 countrymen flew to his aid and beat the enemy back.
 
 1 88 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 Their blood was now heated. No thought of turning back 
 occurred to them. The slight tie of discipline was dis 
 solved. They were in the woods, which soon resounded 
 with shots and yells, and answering shots and yells, 
 which for a time beat downward toward the British camp, 
 and the whole wood became a wild scene of conflict, 
 between many hundreds fighting as individuals. 
 
 Here for the time we leave the British side of the river. 
 The alarm of the British camp, as stated, reached 
 Tecumseh and his warriors on the American shore. He 
 called a few chiefs and warriors, rushed to the river 
 below the fort, and pushed across, passed over the 
 island in the middle of the river, and gained the British 
 shore below the battery, taking the wildly fighting 
 Kentuckians in the flank and rear. 
 
 Thus the remaining of Clay's command would land 
 in the absence of the great chief, whose war cry was as 
 potent as the bugle blast of Roderick Dbu : 
 
 " One blast upon his bugle horn, 
 Was worth a thousand men." 
 
 The bank on that side was precipitous, the current 
 rapid, even near the shore, and two of the remaining 
 boats failed to make the intended landing, a half mile 
 above the fort, and could not securely strike the shore 
 until opposite the upper angles of the camp, thus dividing 
 the party. Both parties were sharply assailed by Indians. 
 Both were armed with the effective musket and bayonet 
 of that day, were fresh, spirited, and well handled. 
 Each of the thus separated parties formed and charged 
 up, gaining the table land. Indians have never been 
 known to meet and successfully resist a body of deter 
 mined men, in this formation, too numerous to be sue-
 
 Day of Battles The Meeting. 189 
 
 cessfully flanked. There really was great peril to the 
 soldiers of both parties. Hesitation or confusion would 
 have been fatal to either. Each heard the war of the 
 other. The Indians had to divide their force to meet 
 both. Clay's party was not distant when the smaller 
 gained the plain, and they were soon reunited under their 
 general, when they turned against the fierce, determined 
 foe, on their own ground, under cover of the forest. The 
 Kentuckians bore their assailants steadily backward for 
 more than half a mile, with small loss on either side. 
 
 The watchful Harrison from his elevated position, 
 commanding the widely separated scenes of conflict, dis 
 covered a body of British soldiers and warriors, advanc 
 ing under the bank of the river from below, to cut off the 
 access of the Kentuckians to the fort, by gaining their 
 rear, when he ordered a recall of the pursuing soldiers, 
 and his sortie to be made by Miller and the regulars of 
 the 4th. 
 
 On the west side it will be remembered that the 
 Kentuckians, with barely thirty days in camp, at sight of 
 the Indians, attacked furiously, and very soon their slight 
 formation disappeared. The Indians were driven back 
 upon the Canadian Infantry, Proctor's first line, who 
 fought at river Raisin. At sight of them the maddened 
 Kentuckians raised the cry " Frenchtown ! " " French- 
 town ! " Their wild, headlong rush was too much for 
 Reynolds' men, who were thrown back upon the two thin, 
 red lines of the regulars, who permitted the militia to 
 pass through their ranks, and reform in their rear, while 
 the scattered Indians on their flanks were bloodily 
 troublesome to the broken assailants. The moment their 
 front was clear of friends, the British delivered two vol 
 leys with not the fourth of a minute interval, at short
 
 190 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 range, into the on-rushing multitude, followed by a charge 
 of bayonets. As the red coats advanced, the war cry of 
 Tecumseh rang in the rear of the shattered and scatter 
 ing Kentuckians. Every warrior heard and responded. 
 Two thirds of the Americans thus surrounded, surren 
 dered to the British ; the residue, more determined, 
 rushed back, and the most of them dashed through 
 Tecumseh's warriors, just taking form under the skilled 
 leader in person. 
 
 The Kentucky colonel had early paid the penalty of 
 his incompetency, and has ever been spared the criticism 
 of his countrymen. Brave to a fault, he was heavy and 
 incapable of continued rapid marching. Wounded, he 
 died sword in hand, defending himself against a rush of 
 warriors attracted by his size, sash and apparent rank. 
 He too was a Dudley. 
 
 We left Harrison's aid in a canoe, in the hands of 
 Carter. He lent his own strength to drive the little bub 
 ble to the other side, and gained the site of the battery, 
 about the time that Tecumseh made his presence known, 
 the best of a half mile or more below that point. 
 
 Here were thirty or forty soldiers, well-armed, who had 
 been shaken out of the fight, fortunately for themselves 
 and some of their fellows. There was no officer with 
 them. They had no idea of retiring, and did not know 
 what to do when Dudley appeared. He announced his 
 name and rank which at once took their hearts. He 
 was a born leader, and was a Dudley, a name of potency 
 with them. There was yet another with General Clay. 
 
 Cheerily he called to them, and as if by magic, they 
 were soon in line, facing the now lessening roar of battle. 
 They could never tell how, but they found themselves 
 with loaded muskets, rekindled confidence, following this
 
 Day of Battles The Meeting. 191 
 
 glowing-faced, flashing-eyed, laughing young man, whose 
 ringing voice went through them, as he turned back to 
 them, or ran along their front to give a personal direction, 
 speak a word for care and coolness, and hold them in 
 hand. The recovered men looked at their young leader 
 with admiring wonder. They had never before seen any 
 thing like him, a sort of superior being, armed, dressed, 
 and gifted, given to restore order and confidence, per 
 haps win a lost battle. 
 
 Then came the fugitives. At first singly, then in twos 
 and threes, in groups of a dozen, then a cloud, they 
 rallied, or passed his line and rallied in his rear. Not 
 panicy, not scared, defeated and fleeing, when defence 
 was impossible. Scarcely were they in effective position 
 when on came the pursuing warriors, a hundred or more, 
 an irregular line, with others in their immediate rear, and 
 were upon him, when Dudley gave the word, and a wide, 
 close volley from a hundred and fifty muskets a long 
 line in open order, to prevent flanking flashed scorch- 
 ingly in their faces. The warriors had dropped their 
 guns, and with brandished knives and tomahawks, had 
 made the headlong rush for the bloody finish. . As an 
 American fell they stopped for the reeking trophy, and 
 thus disordered they reached Dudley's fence of steel. 
 His volley was fatal to many ; the rest recoiled from the 
 line of levelled bayonets, turned, sought cover, and hur 
 ried back to their abandoned guns, not confident and 
 reckless enough to impale themselves on the gleaming 
 steel for the chance of reaching an assailant with hatchet 
 and knife. All found cover save the intrepid leader: 
 wearing the uniform coat of a British general, scarlet 
 cap with eagle plume, brandished sword, face and eyes 
 aflame, on he came, as if followed by his warriors.
 
 192 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 Carter, ever near Dudley, confronted him with levelled 
 rifle, which gave forth its contents almost in the face of 
 the daring chief, only distant enough to leave his sword 
 ineffective. The great leader would never have seen 
 the Thames, had not the alert Dudley with a stroke of 
 his sabre, as the trigger was touched, thrown the rifle out 
 of fatal range. As it was, a slight wound of the sword 
 arm compelled the chief to lower his weapon. For an 
 instant Shawanoe and the young American confronted 
 each other, Dudley's face lighting with almost a laugh. 
 The frown and flash of battle dissolved in the regal face 
 of the chief, and softened to a look of recognition, almost 
 a smile. Each turned to his duties as leader. It passed 
 in an instant. Carter only comprehended it, as in cover 
 of a tree he grimly reloaded his rifle, as did the Ken- 
 tuckians. 
 
 Tecumseh turned to find himself alone, and glided 
 from tree to tree until he could rally his repulsed fol 
 lowers, momentarily increasing in number. 
 
 The distant fire in Dudley's front had ceased, the 
 battle was over. He had received, as he judged, all the 
 surviving fugitives. He had recovered two subaltern 
 officers, of the grade of second lieutenant, whom he 
 placed on either flank, and commenced his movement 
 toward the boats, his men making the march, orderly, 
 and with care, in two ranks or lines. He, with Carter, 
 marched in the rear. Two or three times he ordered a 
 halt and right-about-face, and was charmed with the 
 prompt obedience of his soldiers. As they approached 
 the river, the Indians, still half-armed, pursued in large 
 numbers. His prompt right-about kept them at a pru 
 dent distance, and he did not apprehend an attack under 
 Tecumseh. He held a third of his force on the upper
 
 Day of Battles The Meeting. 193 
 
 bank, while his officers led the main body to the boats, 
 and saw they were in order. When this was accom 
 plished, he marched down, observing the care of a skilled 
 officer in the presence of a superior force if the British 
 were taken into account. He was permitted to embark, 
 taking all the boats to the American side.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 TECUMSEH AVENGER AND RESCUER. 
 
 AS Tecumseh turned back, gathering up his bands, 
 many signs of the method of dealing with the 
 enemy by his warriors met his eye. He had suggested to 
 Proctor an order allowing his warriors twice as much for 
 a prisoner as the usual trophy of an enemy slain, yet on 
 this day of blood they took no prisoners. On landing 
 he had despatched a youth for his horse, which he now 
 found under the bank, awaiting his use. He had a clear 
 idea of the events on the British side of the river. The 
 fighting on the American side was over, apparently, and 
 he took his way to the old fort. Ere he passed a third of 
 the distance, ominous sounds reached him from that 
 direction. He increased his speed and finally put his 
 mettled charger to his best, yet to the impatient chief 
 he seemed to bear him tardily. 
 
 The American prisoners were crowded into the old 
 fort, and Combs, though wounded, and his riflemen, Cap 
 tain Logan, the famous half-blood Shawanoe, who com 
 manded the Indians, were compelled to run the gauntlet 
 between two rows of grim and painted warriors, aflame 
 from the battle. Permitted this luxury, they were not 
 slow to engage in pleasures more exciting and exquisite. 
 They gathered about the unarmed Kentuckians, and 
 selecting such as pleased their individual fancy, shot 
 them down in the presence of Proctor himself, and his 
 
 194
 
 Tecumseh Avenger and Rescuer. 195 
 
 officers. Combs appealed to Proctor, who truculently 
 refused to interfere. Emboldened, the Indians began to 
 select victims, and drag them out for more space and 
 freer sport. Thinking they were to have their way with 
 the 300 prisoners, the chiefs hastily assembled to decide 
 their fate, when a voice of thunder arrested hands and 
 thought of British soldier and Indian warrior. It was 
 Tecumseh, calling to his countrymen in their own tongue, 
 commanding them to stay their hands. An instant later, 
 and he sprang from his horse, in their startled midst, 
 scattering them like frightened sparrows. He alit where 
 a powerful American was struggling in the hands of two 
 or three warriors, who were at preliminary torture. One 
 the chief struck down, another he grasped and hurled to 
 a distance from his victim, the third escaped.* 
 
 Disdaining the sword, he flourished the native weap 
 ons, tomahawk and scalping knife, and with his magnifi 
 cent form at its greatest height, every muscle at tension, 
 quivering with energy and rage, his eyes flashing, he 
 denounced the chiefs as dogs, and dared a man of them 
 so much as to point a finger at a prisoner. For a half 
 minute he towered Tecumseh the avenger, from whose 
 eye they shrank coweringly away. 
 
 " Where is Proctor ? " he now demanded in a thunder 
 ous voice. His glance caught the pudgy form at no 
 great distance. He strode toward him. 
 
 " How is this ? " he haughtily demanded in English. 
 
 " Sir, your Indians cannot be commanded," the general 
 replied sullenly. 
 
 " Begone ! " thundered Tecumseh in contemptuous dis- 
 
 * Drake's " Tecumseh.'
 
 196 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 dain. " You are unfit to command ! Go put on your 
 petticoats" stabbing his finger scornfully at his face. 
 
 He turned from the Englishman to his cowed warriors 
 and their ghastly victims, when the horror and full sig 
 nificance of the spectacle smote the apprehension of the 
 high-souled chief. 
 
 " Oh, my poor Indians ! " he cried in anguish, drop 
 ping his weapons, and clasping his hands above his up 
 turned face, as in appeal to the Great Spirit. " My poor 
 Indians ! what will become of them ! " 
 
 Colonel Elliott reached the ground at this instant, rode 
 into the old fort, and in a ringing voice bade the Indians 
 withdraw, which they instantly did, when by the orders 
 of Tecumseh they departed for their camps.* 
 
 On the American side of the river, we left Clay pur 
 suing and punishing the retiring Indians, with a message 
 of recall from General Harrison on its way to him, a 
 party of the enemy stealing up under the river bank to 
 intercept him on his approach to the fort. Miller was 
 marching out to assault the batteries on the lower bank 
 of the ravine. To these we turn attention for a minute 
 to note the close of the actions of the day. 
 
 Miller's attention was called to the advance of the 
 mixed party of British and Indians. On his approach 
 the Indians did not care to meet him in the open, and 
 the regulars alone were too small a body, and withdrew, 
 leaving him to advance against the batteries whose sup 
 port these soldiers were. Crossing the stream that 
 formed the ravine above, Miller took the batteries in 
 flank. The infantry support had returned, but the guns 
 were carried, spiked dismounted, and as a battery the 
 
 * Drake's " Life of Tecumseh."
 
 TecumseJi Avenger and Rescuer. 197 
 
 slight works demolished. Colonel Miller's return to the 
 fort was simultaneous with the landing of Dudley with 
 the remnant of his namesake's command. 
 
 The persistent Indians, only beaten back by Clay, who 
 entered the fort, had returned to their position, and 
 sharply resisted Dudley's landing. He leaped ashore, 
 formed his now fully recovered men, who had exhausted 
 their ammunition, yet who now under their intrepid 
 leader dashed forward with shouts and bayonets. 
 Among the many objects of interest demanding the 
 attention of the American commander, he did not lose 
 sight of his aid. He heard his volley, saw him emerge 
 with a considerable body of the Kentuckians, and he now 
 hurried the returning Miller to clear his way into camp. 
 Their bayonets, with Dudley's own, dispersed the stinging 
 Indians, and very soon his general welcomed and con 
 gratulated him on his success. 
 
 Of the 1200 men under Clay, about half reached Camp 
 Meigs. Of the residue, a third had fallen, killed and 
 wounded in battle. More than a score perished at the 
 old fort, prisoners of the British. 
 
 As stated, Proctor supposed his position was the real 
 object of attack. He nevej gave up that idea. He 
 claimed to have destroyed, killed and captured a force of 
 the enemy, superior in numbers to his own. For this 
 victory he demanded credit, as for the defeat of Colonel 
 Miller's sortie. Substantially this vaunted victory of 
 Proctor's ended the siege of Camp Meigs, though his 
 guns again feebly opened.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE BATTLE AND AFTER AN INDIAN PRINCESS. 
 
 IT will be remembered that our last sight of Edith was 
 at the instant of the entrance of Gordon upon her 
 interview with Dudley, from whom she vanished. 
 
 Anita had hovered near them, so near as to hear their 
 words, in which she became absorbed and forgot her 
 office as picket. No thought of military interruption 
 crossed her mind. Her first notice of Gordon's presence 
 was a flash of him through the parted curtains as Edith 
 rushed to their common room, wildly exclaiming in smoth 
 ered accents to herself, 
 
 " Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! my wicked, cruel pride ! So false 
 to myself so so utterly false " ! She cast herself upon 
 the rugs and gave way in anguish to self-reproaches, con 
 duct so strange as to greatly surprise the Indian girl. 
 Anita knew that she had long cherished the purpose, if 
 she ever again met Dudley, to at once make known to 
 him who she was, and her share in the Ohio mission. 
 That ruling intention she accomplished under the influ 
 ence of anger and shame, at the implied accusation of 
 his unguarded words, so misconstrued. As the new 
 and strange excess of emotion subsided under the 
 caresses and soothing care of Anita, came the convic 
 tion to the overcome girl, that no man's love one of 
 the sensitive, heroic nature of Dudley, could survive such 
 
 198
 
 The Battle and After An Indian Princess. 199 
 
 an assault a fitting but awful retribution to her. Anita 
 assured her that the dear Saviour would forgive her, and 
 could but see that her sister was more unhappy over the 
 offence given her earthly lover. 
 
 It was long a mystery how Dudley's presence was 
 betrayed to his enemies. Anita had taken no account of 
 the presence of Peters, nor could she have known that so 
 far as Dudley was concerned, he was the spy of Home. 
 Many things were to happen ere she came to know of his 
 agency in the transactions of that night. 
 
 Anita had certain native-taught, inherited notions of 
 her own of the rights of lovers, supreme over the stupid 
 laws of war. To her the fittest thing in the world was 
 for a young chief of one nation to fall in love with the 
 daughter of the chief of another, with which his tribe was 
 at war. This furnished conditions more romantic, and in 
 a certain way more favorable to the lovers than could 
 otherwise exist. The heroine and her women friends> 
 would, of course, conspire to advance the wishes of the 
 lover. Maiden diffidence and reserve were to throw as 
 few obstacles in his way as the laws of war. His main 
 advantage was the divine right of capture. She hated 
 Home ever since the Huron days, and was certain he 
 there set on foot a plot against the life of the young 
 chief, which Edith would never believe. That he brought 
 about his capture now, she had no doubt. She fervently 
 hoped to see the day when Dudley should take full ven 
 geance on him, though it involved the discomfiture of 
 Proctor. All the day following the eventful night, the 
 Indian girl devoted to consoling her sister. The fault 
 was with the wholly unwarrantable intrusion of Lieutenant 
 Gordon. It would all have been right but for him. 
 Edith need not be so disturbed. Her chief would always
 
 2OO The Torys Daughter. 
 
 love her. It was the right of a chief's daughter to be 
 asked many times. The Indian girl's talk was not with 
 out its comfort, though Edith was shocked by her aborig 
 inal notions, and was at pains to show that the rules of 
 forest courtship, could hardly govern in cases of those 
 reared in Anglo-American ways. That the daughters of 
 the proud Shawanoe, had privileges and advantages 
 denied to maidens of the pale faces. 
 
 On the day of the battles, the girls were out on the 
 wooded plain. They were accustomed to the roar of the 
 cannon at Detroit, and now scarcely minded it. The 
 Indian yell raised by the Kentuckians startled them. 
 That was war, battle, an attack of the enemy. They 
 would fight after all. The ears of their own warriors 
 detected it, as the product of amateurs, although Logan, 
 the famous half-blood, and his Shawanoes, soon gave voice 
 with their allies. This was war brought by the enemy, 
 and on their side of the river. The girls turned back. 
 The drums beat to arms ; in the camp, to their ears, every 
 thing was noise and confusion. To all, that wide reach 
 ing yell was a call to arms, a challenge, a defiance to 
 battle, immediate. The voices of the officers, quick, 
 sharp, and not loud, scarcely articulate sounds to un 
 trained ears, sent the 4ist's men, as all the regulars, 
 forth in rapidly moving red files, as if by> magic. Rey 
 nolds' men made a little more noise. Warburton was in 
 the saddle as were Proctor, Elliott, Short, Muir ; and the 
 whole force soon in rapid motion, to meet the enemy. 
 Scouts and Indians in advance. 
 
 Then fell the ominous silence of the guns of the heavy 
 battery on their side of the river, followed by the cheers 
 of the victorious enemy, and the answering cheers from 
 Camp Meigs. Scarcely had these ceased when nearer
 
 The Battle and After An Indian Princess. 201 
 
 came the war whoop of their own warriors, who engaged 
 Combs and the Kentuckians generally. The sound 
 swelled in volume, grew louder and seemingly nearer as 
 the first tide of war rolled toward the camp. Then came 
 the sharp roll of the provincial militia, followed by the 
 heavy explosive volleys of the regulars, and the British 
 cheers as they swept forward with the bayonet, and the 
 enemy's war was broken and beaten back, scattered. 
 
 The spirits of the girls arose and their veins quickened 
 in the presence of the battle. Through it all the great 
 guns preserved an ominous silence. Nor yet when the 
 sounds of war no longer beat the air, did they begin 
 again on the west side. The notes of Dudley's defence, 
 feebler and more remote, reached them, and then all was 
 still, and remained so, on their side, and they knew they 
 were the victors. Soon was this confirmed by messengers, 
 sent with the tidings. They had met the American army, 
 defeated it, and nearly all unslain were captured. For 
 the wounded they should take thought. Rumor was that 
 the fort had surrendered also, though, as they could see, 
 its flag still waved, and would until formally delivered. 
 Then came the rattling fights from the easterly side. 
 
 Ere these were over the young girls had returned down 
 the glen, Anita showing Edith where she met Dudley 
 and Carter. Also telling her how, by an accident, she 
 met her uncle on his way to the youth's rescue, as she 
 was on her way to notify the chief of his capture. Some 
 of the soldiers had now already returned, and the girls 
 approached to inquire of the battle. Edith knew a grim 
 old sergeant, who gave her some of the details. A 
 soldier seldom knows more than he sees of a battle, which 
 is little, and may fight and retire, not clear as to the gen 
 eral result.
 
 2O2 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 Just then the batteries on the easterly side ceased also 
 and the soldier was sure the fort had surrendered. The 
 girls Burned away, Anita deploring the fortune of Dudley 
 in being again captured. The soldier caught the name 
 " Dudley " on her lips and said : " Dudley was killed as 
 them said as knows it." 
 
 " Major Dudley ! " cried Edith, with pale face, and 
 almost rigid form. 
 
 " Some calls 'im major an' some colonel," replied the 
 sergeant,, carelessly. " Enny ways 'e's killed airly this 
 mornin'." 
 
 Edith was not one to lose self-control, faint, or cry out 
 at anything. A rigor made her shiver for an instant. 
 They knew of but one Dudley. This must be him. For 
 her the world had a changed aspect. Slain up there in 
 the woods, where she heard the yells of warriors, the 
 volleys and shouts of the soldiers. She was back in her 
 own tent ere quite herself. She knew Anita had mur 
 mured words in her ears, and had an arm about her waist. 
 What she said she did not comprehend, nor did she make 
 reply or ask a question. 
 
 In the tent she met her father, just returned after 
 meeting some of the officers. His face confirmed what 
 she was told by the old soldier. He saw she was in pos 
 session of what he was spared the pain of telling her. 
 
 " Two Dudleys," suggested Anita. " Cliffton Dudley 
 cannot be killed." 
 
 "There may be," said Grayson, brightening; "Philip 
 had a cousin in Virginia." 
 
 " Make sure. If if well," said Edith, pathetically, 
 yet relieved by the suggestions of both, so that now tears 
 came to comfort her. She could not finish the sentence, 
 even mentally, but she could weep.
 
 The Battle and After An Indian Princess. 203 
 
 The smoke of the battle rolled away and dissipated. 
 The waters swept on, still touched by the sun, whose early 
 May rays filled the now serene and lovely valley. A 
 bluebird flew up from below, dropping little trills of joy, 
 and such joy ! A robin recovered his voice in the un 
 wonted stillness and sent his tide of song down from 
 his perch on an old maple by the river's margin. They 
 fell on Edith's ears unheeded, save as discordant sounds, 
 as she went forth again, unable to remain inside. 
 
 Oh, what was the victory worth at such purchase ! 
 Why was war ? He may have been met by their allies. 
 What a horror was that thought ! She would not think, 
 she could not, nor yet avoid the distraction which came 
 as the conclusion of thought. Mingled thought and 
 feeling, the exquisite of anguish. 
 
 " Oh Oh ! When he knelt in his loveliness, his beauti 
 ful manliness, with his love lighting his eyes, his face, 
 why did I not kneel by him in God's presence, place my 
 lips to his, so our souls should have been wedded !" Her 
 mother's spirit, his father's, would have hovered near and 
 blessed them. God would have blessed the dedication, 
 the union. 
 
 An hour elapsed and she knew how much anguish 
 sixty minutes could contain. Then came this note from 
 her father. 
 
 " My dearest child: 
 
 "Praise and thank God! Cliffton Dudley is 
 unharmed. (' O, praise and thank God ! ' clasping her 
 hands with fervor. Reads.) Anita was right. The slain 
 Dudley was Colonel William Dudley, of Kentucky. I 
 have seen Captain Combs, who commanded their spies ; 
 he says Colonel Dudley was killed. 
 
 " Major Dudley was on this side ; came over alone
 
 2O4 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 and rallied the fugitives, two or three hundred, and made 
 a very determined stand. Tecumseh also came over with 
 a few warriors, and they met in battle, face to face, hand to 
 hand.- (' O, he met Tecumseh ! I never thought of that ; ' 
 looking away, the color leaving her face, crushing the 
 paper unconsciously in her hands. Her eyes returned to 
 it, she smoothed it. Reads.) Tecumseh's warriors were 
 beaten back ! and he was compelled to retire. (' Tecum 
 seh beaten back.' Reads.) He was slightly wounded. 
 (' Merciful Father ! Tecumseh wounded ! ' Reads.) He 
 says Dudley saved his life. (' O, joy, joy ! Dudley saved 
 Tecumseh's life ! Of course he would ! How these noble 
 men help each other. Glorious Dudley ! ' Reads.) His 
 force was too small to do more than retire, which he did 
 without loss in the face of the chief and his warriors. 
 (' Good, good ! I am glad of it.' Reads). He crossed 
 the river, and is supposed to have reached the American 
 camp in safety. (Here she expressed fervid thanks, 
 kissing the paper, which she resumed.) The chief is 
 greatly distressed at occurrences after the battle at the 
 old fort, on the arrival there of the prisoners. Proctor 
 was there ; Tecumseh came. It would have been better 
 had he reached the fort sooner. Of course he put an 
 end to it. It was bad. You would hear of it. Let us 
 not think of it." 
 
 " The enemy's dead will be honorably interred, espe 
 cially Colonel Dudley. 
 
 " His wounded will be cared for. 
 
 " Be with you in an hour. 
 
 " Your father, 
 
 " E. G." 
 
 Edith had to go again into the outer day with this 
 almost celestial missive. What a divine radiance was 
 shed abroad by the dying light upon the now laughing, 
 lovely earth battle strewn though it was. She was even 
 glad that the flag of the enemy still floated over the head 
 of the young hero. Then she thought of his wounded
 
 The Battle and After An Indian Princess. 205 
 
 countrymen, passed by for the wounded British soldiers, 
 and left to the hands of those who had failed to destroy 
 their lives on the field. She went away to enquire into 
 their condition, which she found sad enough. They with 
 the English, less in number, would be sent to Maiden the 
 next morning, with the whole body of the American pris 
 oners. She did what she could, and promised herself to 
 see them when they embarked. She resolutely put from 
 her all thought of the possible occurrence at the old fort, 
 yet its shadow was on her. 
 
 In the roseate twilight, Anita launched her bark shell, 
 of which she was mistress, and sent it across the river to 
 the landing near the Indian camp. A group of young 
 natives, youths and maidens, gathered there as she ap 
 proached. 
 
 Two boys ran forward to hold it for her to land from, 
 took the light shell from the water as she stepped from it, 
 and remained near to guard it, proud to render the ser 
 vice for one whom they remembered as the daughter of 
 lost Cheeseekau, the niece of Tecumseh and Tecuma- 
 pease, and worshipped as the Indian youth's ideal of a 
 born princess. As she moved lightly through the group, 
 speaking laughingly to those she knew, they formed an 
 irregular procession, and followed as she passed along 
 the way winding up the bank. There she found many 
 women who came to look at and catch a word from her. 
 The young warriors drew near with respectful admira 
 tion, as did many a grim participant in the battle. In 
 some lodges was darkness and weeping ; in more were 
 heard notes of triumph. Note of her presence ran 
 through the camp. The young chiefs, Jim Blue-Jacket, 
 young Little-Turtle, Anita's cousin, young Tecumseh, met 
 her ; and the last named attended her to % his father's
 
 206 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 quarters, a little apart from the irregular village of wig 
 wams, huts and lodges, forming the temporary camp. 
 
 On the other side Anita was the gay, light-hearted, 
 laughing, pliant shadow, or sheaf of sun-rays, playing 
 about Edith whom she worshipped, whose ways she 
 studied and made their spirit hers. Here she was the 
 Indian princess ; wild, arch, sparkling, but never less 
 than princess, taking the love of children, the love of 
 women, the worship of the young warriors, and the admi 
 ration of the older braves and chiefs as things of course, 
 to be glad for, to be proud of, yet to seem unconscious 
 of. It was much to be the daughter of the great Indian 
 house ; it was more to be the lovely, winsome Indian 
 maiden, and receive the admiration which was to her the 
 atmosphere surrounding her. 
 
 The leaders of untaught races are necessarily austere 
 of manner : much unbending would be loss of power. 
 Tecumseh was alone, brooding over the events of the day, 
 moody, and aware of the hurt to his arm. He submitted 
 it to Proctor's surgeon. Had himself applied a native 
 salve, but it was sore, becoming stiff from the hurt to an 
 important muscle. 
 
 Anita entered his presence silently, and stood in the 
 bending attitude of the Indian woman in the presence of 
 her lord. He was soon aware of her presence, and his 
 face relaxed and lit up with a tender smile. He extended 
 his hand to her and she moved to his side placing her 
 hand in it, murmuring words of affection, and was re 
 warded with an unwonted caress. 
 
 Her visit was wholly on Edith's account. 
 
 "My sister," she said, "they told her the young 
 American chief was slain in the battle. Has my uncle 
 seen him ? Does he know ? "
 
 The Battle and After An Indian Princess. 207 
 
 He turned his eyes, no longer cold or austere, upon 
 her. 
 
 " Why does my English sister hide her heart when the 
 young chief seeks her in his enemy's camp ? Should a 
 Choctaw seek my little sister thus, she would at least 
 hear his words ! " 
 
 " The high-born English maiden must be asked many 
 times. She is not bought with horses. The young chief 
 must prove himself," she answered naively. 
 
 " Tecumseh has proved him in battle this day. He 
 leads his braves to war laughing, like a young chief when 
 the girls see him in the dance, at the feast of succotash" 
 he said. 
 
 " We were in swift pursuit of running deer. My war 
 riors dropped their guns. There came a flash of fire in 
 their faces, and then a gleam of the stabbing knives on 
 the muzzles of their guns. My warriors turned back. 
 Tecumseh was alone. The scout of the Huron aimed 
 his rifle at his breast. I looked in at its muzzle. Te 
 cumseh could not fly. The young chief, laughing, struck 
 the gun aside. Tecumseh lived with but this," touching 
 the wound. "The young chief and Tecumseh looked 
 into each other's eyes and smiled. Tell my young sister 
 in her own tongue, till she sees and knows. A leader of 
 warriors knows when to retire. My warriors were gather 
 ing up their guns. Warburton and Short with the sol 
 diers were near. The running deer, when he called them 
 turned to fierce wolves, and slowly they backed through 
 the trees, their teeth to us, the young chief between them 
 and us, calling to them in laughing words. I followed 
 him, but forbade my warriors the use of their guns. Tell 
 this to my English sister. The young chief is safe in his 
 camp."
 
 208 The Tory 's Daughter. 
 
 Much more was said, and finally, with a kiss upon her 
 uncle's hand, Anita turned to go, the blaze of the fire 
 showing her form and face half in shadow, to the best 
 advantage. Tecumseh for the first time seemed aware of 
 the excellence, the almost perfection, of her person. 
 
 " My daughter is a woman ; more comely than her 
 mother or Tecumapease, when a girl. She will have to 
 consider what answer we shall make to the young chiefs," 
 he said, a smile now lighting his handsome face. 
 
 The pleased child dropped her head, her eyes flashing 
 from their sides, while her hand toyed with the hilt of 
 her dagger, her parted lips showing the gleam of her 
 teeth. 
 
 " Came you alone ? " he asked. 
 
 " Many came from the river with me," evasively. 
 
 " Call my son ! " 
 
 The young man was at the opening, heard the order 
 and stepped in. 
 
 " Look on your cousin," said the chief, which the 
 youth, her junior by a year, was very willing to do, had 
 already done much looking on her. She certainly was 
 never so lovely as now, as she stood, one hand still on 
 her dagger, her face warm with her uncle's praise. 
 
 " See, it is not mete that she go about unattended, like 
 the child of a hunter of rabbits. Call your cousin, Jim 
 Blue-Jacket, Young Little-Turtle, and see her returned 
 in honor." 
 
 Anita was in no way displeased at this mark of consid 
 eration. Her presence had drawn the young men, the 
 two chiefs by inheritance, and others, near their general's 
 quarters. Upon the appearance of Anita and her cousin, 
 they were joined by the son of Tecumapease who like 
 his cousin had not yet gained a name of his own. The
 
 The Battle and After An Indian Princess. 209 
 
 two by right of blood walked on each side of the maiden, 
 while the others, walking behind, attended her to the 
 river. 
 
 Her boat was launched, and young Tecumseh paddled 
 it across, attended by the others named, in canoes. So 
 she had a guard of honor back to her residence for the 
 time, where she dismissed her escort with thanks, her 
 manner dignified but very gracious. 
 
 It took her till a late hour in her very pretty, yet still 
 imperfect English, to render the chief's account of his 
 meeting with Dudley, which she did in a picturesque 
 way, dwelling much on Tecumseh's chiding. It must be 
 said, that Edith listened with exemplary patience to her 
 extended version, in fact showing many signs of interest 
 in it. 
 
 It was late when the girls retired. Anita, with no trou 
 bles but those of her sister on her heart, bore them 
 lightly to the land of dreams, as doth the young maiden 
 still " fancy free." 
 
 The next morning was chill and raw. When the 
 wretched prisoners embarked, they became aware that a 
 gentle influence had mollified the rigor of their position, 
 alway, in all war, the extreme of human ill. Something 
 had been done for the wounded, a slight atonement, 
 thought the American, for the atrocities of yesterday. 
 They had been taught to expect treatment little short of 
 death when they fell into the hands of the British and 
 their red allies. We judge enemies by their failures, 
 ignoring the good they do. 
 
 At the place of embarkation, each wounded man re 
 ceived a cup of hot tea, broth, and refreshment suited to 
 him, and was gladdened with the face and form of a 
 lovely girl, attended by a lithe, winsome Indian maiden,
 
 2IO The Torys Daughter. 
 
 who glided among them tenderly, and smiling, though 
 tears were in their eyes, ministering to them. To them 
 these were as if from heaven direct. A few words the 
 English girl spoke to each. They should soon see her 
 again. So she won their blessings. More amazed were 
 they when she told them that her sister was a niece of 
 the dreaded Tecumseh. She thought they should know 
 that. 
 
 It was unavoidable that the English attendants should 
 first think of their own wounded. Edith showed an 
 equal, and in her anxiety, more care for her conventional 
 enemies.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SHAWANOE IN COUNCIL. 
 
 BY the utmost exertion the artillerists got many of 
 their guns into position during the night of the 
 fifth, and there was a great bellowing up in the woods on 
 both sides of the Maumee that morning. After an hour 
 or two of idle practice, Colonel Short was sent to repeat 
 the summons of two days before. The American could 
 hardly conceal his astonishment at this demand. He 
 told the Briton to look through his camp if he wished, 
 make sure of the effect of his bombardment, ascertain the 
 number and condition of the defenders, and report to his 
 chief, who he trusted would make no more requisitions of 
 this sort. 
 
 This was doubtless to test the temper and position of 
 his enemy. Proctor knew the American was now too 
 strong to assault, and a further pounding of his oaken 
 and hickory palisades was a stupid waste of means. He 
 resolved in his own time and way to retire to Maiden. 
 
 General Harrison supposed, as have the American his 
 torians, that Proctor's abandonment of the siege was com 
 pelled by the -withdrawal of his allies and the inefficiency 
 of the Canadian militia. To them it always seemed that 
 no other causes could be of sufficient gravity ^a military 
 necessity in fact. In this they under-estimated the effect 
 of their own war upon him personally. 
 
 So it was supposed, later, that Tecumseh more than 
 211
 
 212 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 once was on the point of abandoning his ally and that 
 nothing but his pay as a British general retained him. 
 These suppositions are an entire mistake of the facts and 
 the character of the chief. 
 
 The Indian warriors served without pay. They had a 
 share in the plunder loot. In addition they received a 
 premium for each enemy slain in battle, or taken prisoner, 
 with a difference in favor of the live soldier. The main 
 inducement, was the subsistence of the warriors, and the 
 maintenance of their families. Like all barbarians, the 
 Indians went to war, taking their women, children, old 
 men, and dependents. To secure the warriors of a tribe 
 for war, was for the time to sustain the nation, a thing 
 the Americans never allowed for in estimating the 
 resources of the English in this war. The Indian camp 
 was a group of Indian villages. 
 
 There was not the least warrant for the generally 
 believed compact, charged to Proctor and Tecumseh, that 
 upon the fall of Camp Meigs Harrison was to be 
 delivered to the Indians and burnt. 
 
 The result of the fifth day's battle, and accessions to 
 the Americans, disheartened Proctor and his inner circle 
 of officers, notwithstanding the heavy punishment of their 
 enemy. He must retire or hazard an assault. Tecum 
 seh discovered at the close of this sixth day that the 
 heavy guns had been dismounted, and slid on skids down 
 to the river margin. He demanded a council of war. 
 Its session was stormy and all the officers of note made 
 speeches. Proctor admitted his purpose of returning 
 immediately to Maiden. 
 
 Tecumseh spoke at length, in his own tongue, as usual. 
 Elliott translated him into English. Bold and impres 
 sive as alway, among other things he said, " Our father
 
 Shawanoe in Council. 213 
 
 brought us here to take the fort ; then why don't we take 
 it ? If his children can't do it, give us spades, we will 
 dig into it eat a way into it for him." Harsher words 
 followed. When he finished, he rilled the bowl in the 
 head of his inlaid tomahawk with tobacco, reclined on the 
 earth and began to smoke. When Elliott came to these 
 bitter words, Proctor fancied he was taking liberties with 
 the orator's text. At one sentence he turned angrily to 
 Elliott and exclaimed : 
 
 " Sir, you are a traitor ! " 
 
 "Sir, you lie!" was Elliott's fierce retort, drawing his 
 sword. 
 
 " What does he say ? " demanded Tecumseh of Elliott, 
 springing to his feet, and brandishing his tomahawk. 
 
 The officers intervened, and for the time the tempest 
 subsided to break out in a challenge at Maiden.* 
 
 When news of the incident of the guns reached them, 
 the militia respectfully asked to be permitted to return to 
 their farms and plant their summer crops. The general 
 thereupon denounced them, and on their return to Mai 
 den he contemptuously disarmed them, and for the time 
 dismissed them in dishonor. 
 
 Proctor retired to Maiden, leaving Tecumseh with 
 bands of his chosen warriors in the woods, to observe 
 the American and annoy him if opportunity presented. 
 
 Secretary Armstrong determined to no longer depend 
 upon militia. He had authority to raise a large number 
 of new regiments of regulars. The Ohioans and Ken- 
 tuckians to a man, would follow Harrison ; scarce a man 
 enlisted in the new regiments. The entire force of the 
 New England colony of North-eastern Ohio were now 
 
 * "Chronicles of Canada."
 
 214 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 on the way to raise the siege of Fort Meigs, as also 
 volunteers from the southern part of the state. Their 
 purpose was to push Proctor back, capture Detroit and 
 Maiden, and secure peace for themselves. With the aid 
 of Kentucky, Harrison felt confident of doing that ere 
 midsummer. He was not permitted to attempt it. He 
 met and thanked the Ohio men, and returned them for 
 the time to their homes. 
 
 With the opening season the Americans were pushing 
 with vigor the building of a fleet at Erie, to secure the 
 dominion of the lake. The deep and safe harbor of 
 Presque Isle Bay gave shelter for this enterprise. Here 
 Perry, worn and chafed by delay and lack of men, mate 
 rial and armament, was exerting himself to the utmost. 
 The department had promised he should be able to sail 
 forth by the loth of July. 
 
 Meantime, fully advised of the intended weight and 
 strength of the embryo fleet the veteran Barclay, in the 
 sheltered water behind Bois Blanc Island, was pushing the 
 new ship " Detroit " to completion, and fitting his squad 
 ron for the decisive contest. With his new, heavy flag 
 ship, he was confident. 
 
 Harrison would invade, capture Maiden, seize 
 the navy yard, and make prize of this dangerous 
 naval creation. Restrained from Washington he forti 
 fied a camp on the Sandusky River at the Indian Seneca 
 town, nine miles above Fort Stephenson, at the present 
 town of Fremont. This was his headquarters. His left 
 extended to Camp Meigs, with the intervening Black 
 Swamp ; his right to Cleveland ; with this two hundred 
 miles of lake frontier accessible to Proctor, with his trans 
 ports and armed ships, who might any day or night land 
 at any of the exposed points, he was compelled to wait.
 
 Shawanoe in Council. 215 
 
 Stephenson was now a well-built stockade, under the 
 command of Major Croghan, with 160 regulars, having 
 one gun, a six-pounder, and was the most exposed point 
 accessible from Sandusky Bay, and in Harrison's judg 
 ment indefensible against heavy ordnance. Thus sta 
 tioned, building, arming, training, waiting, watching, to 
 the American passed the early summer months of 1813. 
 
 Proctor expected to be attacked. He could expect no 
 aid from Prevost. His resource for soldiers were the 
 wilder and more remote tribes beyond Lake Michigan, 
 the Sacs, Foxes, Chippewas and still more remote Sioux. 
 
 Dickson had visited them all, Tecumseh met and 
 secured their chiefs. They came on with their warriors 
 in early June, and Tecumseh was at the head of the 
 largest body of native warriors known to our history. 
 Of course they brought their women and children. The 
 warriors were to be armed with muskets, and all to be 
 quartered on the British commissariat. 
 
 Many famous chiefs came, as their immediate leaders : 
 Osh-aw-ah-nah, head of the Chippewas, and Black-Hawk, 
 then about the age of Tecumseh, of the Sacs, and their 
 kindred the Foxes, accompanied by his gallant nephew 
 Red-Wing, the son of a sister, wife of a Sioux chief. 
 
 In the rivalry of ship building, while Perry was nearer 
 his supplies, Barclay, with his command of the lake, had 
 constant access to the British depot at Long Point, and 
 was confident of having the Detroit in readiness ere 
 Perry could gain the open lake. In the face of Barclay's 
 ships this would be a very hazardous thing in itself to 
 accomplish.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 RETURN OF THE EXILES. 
 
 EDITH was conscious of a reluctance to leave the 
 valley of the Maumee, place of battle, blood, and 
 murder though it was, and she was well aware of its 
 cause. She steeled her heart, closed her eyes, and turned 
 bravely from the chance of accident, by which she might 
 possibly feel the presence of one whose image would 
 be her mental companion. She intended to follow the 
 vessels that bore the wounded, the same day. She was 
 detained till the next morning. 
 
 Anita felt no wish to hurry away. She would not by 
 a minute cut short the chance for something to happen. 
 On the deck of the " Edith," both turned a little wistfully 
 for a glance at the empty place under the distant trees, 
 where their tents so lately stood, thence to the British 
 camp, from that up to the American side, where floated 
 the 'hostile banner over the palisaded hold, seeming to 
 flaunt them in the face. 
 
 " Dudley on bank below, with big guns," said Anita, 
 her eyes and teeth gleaming with mischief. " He take 
 our ship, and carry sister and Anita to his camp," laugh 
 ing at her conceit. 
 
 " They never make captives of women," replied Edith. 
 
 " Anita tell him, then he come carry her off. Two or 
 three days he come, find us in the woods, my cousin 
 with us, then he take us all," laughing. 
 
 216
 
 Return of the Exiles. 217 
 
 " You bad girl, I do believe you would try it," said 
 her sister, laughing. 
 
 " Certain. Tecumapease, young warrior, help me." 
 
 The conception of this coup, possible only to an Indian 
 girl, was very attractive to her, and she went on recount 
 ing the details, in which occurred the names of Jim Blue- 
 Jacket, and young Little-Turtle, when Edith playfully 
 accused her of a secret personal interest in the adventure, 
 at which she laughed a good deal, neither admitting or 
 denying the impeachment 4 but her account of it was 
 arrested and never resumed. 
 
 It was a crisp May forenoon, of that voyage down the 
 Maumee. The girls were quick to note the advance of 
 spring in the ten or twelve days of their sylvan sojourn. 
 Along the banks were many signs of kindling warmth and 
 color. Not with a gush does spring come upon that 
 clime of snow and late sharp air, though near the lake 
 and protected by the dense forest, as it then was. There 
 were under the river's banks, in many deep thickets, 
 favored nooks, dells, and parterres, fastnesses of fatty 
 swamps, where life throbbed the long winter through ; but 
 these were the favored haunts of nature ; even there the 
 pulse was faint and the breath often congealed to frost, 
 and everything but the bubbling streams wore the rime 
 of winter. To eyes less observant, the forest appeared 
 naked and empty, a region of merely suspended winter. 
 To theirs it was full of life and signs of waking. 
 
 Edith found the wounded doing very well, and learnt 
 that the slightly injured, with the rest of the prisoners, 
 would soon be sent below. 
 
 Her Frenchtown exiles in the lovely May, were pining 
 for their homes on the lonely river Raisin. The thought 
 of returning them under the protection of Tecumseh,
 
 21 8 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " King of the Woods," the one apt thing said by Proctor, 
 came to her. She proposed it to them ; they were eager 
 to accept it. The chief returned about that time, and 
 gladly undertook at Edith's request to guarantee them 
 from molestation by the natives. At her father's request, 
 Proctor made a formal order for their return, requiring a 
 pledge of neutrality from the males and matrons. 
 
 Tecumseh was a born ruler. He went on the late ex 
 pedition with a certainty of success. He returned with 
 a chagrin little short of mortification veiled under an im- 
 
 o 
 
 penetrable austerity of manner. He was realizing the 
 futility of his first hopes of reclaiming the lost lands. 
 Tecumapease went with Edith to him, on behalf of her 
 proteges. Of all their sex, these were the two women 
 whom he most loved and respected, for the qualities 
 which made them the equals of men, and fit to share 
 their counsels. It was an unusual position for women to 
 attain. Now and then one was known to. Among some 
 of the nations, as with the Iroquois the title to their 
 lands was held to vest in their women, and could only be 
 alienated by their consent formally given. 
 
 Their appeal was not only to his humanity, it was an 
 appeal to his sense of dominion, to his notions of policy. 
 He may have had no very accurate notion of the real 
 causes of the war, nor of its magnitude as a whole; nor 
 what would induce the two nations to make peace. He 
 doubtless over-estimated the importance of the theatre of 
 hostilities, where he was one of the most conspicuous 
 actors. His view was limited to the head of Lake Erie, 
 and the territory immediately north* and west of it. 
 Here, up to this last measuring of arms, the Americans 
 had decidedly the worst of it. Notwithstanding their 
 losses, they stoutly maintained themselves. He had
 
 Return of the Exiles. 219 
 
 never visited Washington or the Eastern cities. A barba 
 rian's only means of forming an estimate of a people's 
 power is by personal inspection of their numbers, the 
 extent of their territory, and the material signs of wealth. 
 At this last meeting of these enemies the British had 
 turned back. The capture of Camp Meigs would practi 
 cally have ended the war. He now found the Americans 
 were building gigantic ships to try the fortune of battle 
 on the water, a useless waste of means and time, and 
 seemingly decisive of nothing, as the armies would then 
 have to settle it in a great battle. A series of battles 
 between the same enemies lay out of the usual experience 
 of the natives, whose principal business was war. True, 
 the Americans had not dared come out and fight him in 
 the woods, and when they assaulted the soldiers they had 
 been nearly all killed and captured ; but the fact remained, 
 Proctor turned away and left them, and the remote Sioux 
 and Sacs were called in. Here was this people of French- 
 town, a large number of mouths to be fed. There were 
 their farms and houses. He never intended to despoil 
 them. The Americans would drive his people off. He 
 would not so treat these. It was better every way to 
 return and protect them, and let them care for themselves 
 for the time. 
 
 When they were in possession he promised to visit 
 their town, and place his sign manual on all their dwell 
 ings, and woe betide the man, red or white, who should 
 violate his pledge. He made no account of Proctor in 
 this case ; had more than once openly compelled him to 
 liberate a prisoner, to whom he felt under a personal 
 obligation.* Wasegoboah and a few warriors should 
 
 *" Drake's Life."
 
 220 The Tory s Daughter. 
 
 attend Edith, and Tecumapease, when they went to 
 restore this people, as an escort. It would be understood 
 as under his, Tecumseh's sanction, and he did not over 
 estimate his own power and reputation, when he supposed 
 this would assure the safety of this abused people. 
 
 Edith and her wards hurried their preparations, a party 
 went in advance to open and repair the houses, and 
 remove or bury any unseemly remains of the battle-fields. 
 Good commissary Reynolds furnished stores, the quarter 
 master means of transportation ; and one morning of the 
 warming May, they started on their return. Edith, 
 Tecumapease and her husband, with Anita, and half a 
 dozen of the youths and young chiefs in festive paint and 
 feathers, attended them as an escort. The road was 
 now hard and good, all the people were in high spirits, 
 and the considerable procession was a gay progress. 
 Out through, now over peopled Maguaga, the native 
 Brownstown, both of which swarmed with the Indians, 
 back from the investment of Camp Meigs. The lovely 
 river, running and dimpling in the sun, murmured a wel 
 come to the returned, and the courting birds piped glad 
 notes of rejoicing. They had been long in possession. 
 Fires were rekindled on the deserted hearths, smoke 
 arose cheerily from the unused chimneys, and as the 
 gathering twilight deepened into night, the windows were 
 again reddened with the cheery fires from within. 
 
 These were eventful days in the life of Edith. Every 
 minute had its labor, its hope, and its anxiety. It also 
 had its pleasure, wholly from the consciousness that she 
 was contributing to the happiness of others, enhanced by 
 the presence of the kindling season. What was most sat 
 isfying was the sense of security with which the restored 
 inhabitants took possession of their houses and farms.
 
 Return of the Exiles, 221 
 
 Stand-Firm had never recovered the boat with which he 
 carried Dudley from Detroit. He hid it, as may be re 
 membered, and returned thither by land. It was a mile 
 below Frenchtown, and in the afternoon of the second 
 day, he, Edith, and Anita went in search of it. An old 
 oak tree marked the place of deposit, and he had no 
 trouble in finding it, and in the same condition it was 
 when placed there, and with it the Indian paddles. 
 
 Removing it from the little cave under the roots of the 
 oak, the chief placed it on the river strand, and examined 
 the inner surface, near the bow where he saw Dudley 
 make an inscription. He found the marks strong and 
 fresh as when made. Placing the tip of a finger upon it, 
 he gave Edith a significant look. She approached and 
 discovered two or three lines, written with a red pencil in 
 a firm hand upon the smooth surface of the bark. The 
 words were as follows : 
 
 "Black River, October 9 and 10, 1811. On the i2th 
 and i3th, journeyed through the wood; i4th, turned 
 back without a word. She who would know the signifi 
 cance of these words will never see them, nor know or 
 care how those days live in memory. 
 
 Monday morning, Aug. 17, 1812. C. D." 
 
 " Her eyes do see them, and she knows it all," was her 
 mental comment. 
 
 " Wasegoboah, I want this boat will you give it to 
 me ? " she said to the chief. 
 
 " It belongs to my sister," he said, graciously. 
 
 She beckoned Anita and read the lines. " Yes, an 
 other knows," said the Indian girl. " Anita will yet see 
 him in this boat with her sister," she added, confidently. 
 " He will come."
 
 222 The Torys Daughter, 
 
 " When he comes, everything will come ; all the loved 
 and lost," said Edith, sadly. 
 
 " When the battle is ended, then will he come," said 
 the dark maiden, with gay assurance. " And Anita will 
 paddle this canoe for them." 
 
 Wasegoboah stood gravely observing the girls. Anita 
 read the inscription audibly. Some of the words he 
 knew the meaning of, as he knew there was something of 
 tender interest between the fair girl before him and the 
 young American chief, whose exploits on the Maumee he 
 was familiar with. It was something after the fashion of 
 their race, which he did not fully appreciate. He said 
 some words to Anita in their tongue, with a gesture 
 toward the southern forest, and a glance at Edith. Anita 
 laughed and replied to him. He received it with a grim 
 smile, and spoke back to her. 
 
 " What does he say ? " asked Edith. 
 
 " That the American chief could come here, and carry 
 you to his own village," laughing. 
 
 " Oh ! And what did you say to him ? " 
 
 " That he thinks you would not go with him ; and his 
 smile meant that a young Indian chief very much in ear 
 nest, would not mind that ; " and the girls laughed very 
 pleasantly together. 
 
 " You said something further," declared the fair girl. 
 
 " I told him a young white chief did not win a wife 
 that way ; and English maidens would not be so gained. 
 He thinks your ways are very funny." 
 
 "No doubt. Your Indian way, Anita, would be a 
 simple way of removing many difficulties." 
 
 The answer was a significant look and a sheen of 
 white teeth. 
 
 " You bad, Anita. I shall have to look out for my sis-
 
 Return of tJic Exiles. 223 
 
 ter on her own account, I fear ; she is so tall, so much 
 more than comely, and has become so much a woman," 
 now laughing in turn. " I wonder which I am to look 
 out for ? Jim Blue-Jacket, or young Little-Turtle ? " 
 
 Anita laughed her most musical laughter, saying, " We 
 English, oldest sister married first." 
 
 " Oh, that is why you are so anxious to have me dis 
 posed of." Had she ever witnessed the sensation pro 
 duced by Anita's presence in the Indian camp, she might 
 have feared for consequences to the child herself, whose 
 interest in her affair made her liable to the suspicion of 
 overmuch susceptibility. 
 
 The next morning the two girls took leave of the re 
 stored villagers, and returned to Maiden, carrying Edith's 
 prize with them. On closer inspection, Edith's name was 
 found written in many different places, showing how con 
 stantly, even in that time of peril and flight, she was in 
 the young man's thoughts. It was grateful to her maid 
 enly pride, that her heart had not gone out to one who 
 did not prize it above all things ; and she had a right to 
 wear his retained ribbon. 
 
 These hidden and now revealed treasures, coming so 
 soon after he sought her to tell his love, were very pre 
 cious. Surely such love would survive the assault it had 
 sustained at her hand, and seen by the providence which 
 had caused their meeting, would at the least give her an 
 opportunity to 'show how entirely she appreciated and 
 reciprocated it. For the present it must be put by. She 
 must call up her old spirit, closing her eyes to this thing, 
 and go forward. As she reached this inevitable conclu 
 sion, she drew herself up, withdrew her hand from the 
 little birch, carried behind her seat, and turned her fair 
 young face forward with a very determined air.
 
 224 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 Seemingly, Anita's mind had followed the mental proc 
 ess of the heroic girl. She burst into a peal of light- 
 hearted laughter. 
 
 " My English sister is very brave," she said. " She is 
 a woman." 
 
 Mrs. Proctor, with her three children, the wife and 
 family of the general, arrived at Maiden, in the absence 
 of Edith on this memorable excursion to the river Raisin, 
 a handsome, charming woman, of gracious manners, and 
 elevated character. Her coming was a social event at 
 Maiden and Windsor, and not without influence on that 
 theatre of the war, supplying stimulus and strength to the 
 infirm purpose and character of the British commander, 
 who had been advanced to the rank of major-general. 
 
 With her came Edith's childhood and girlhood friend, 
 Mary Coffin, a grand-daughter of the refugee Coffin, and 
 niece of Lady Sheaffe, whom she had not seen since her 
 excursion to the south side of Lake Erie. She was a 
 charming, high-spirited girl, not so beautiful but that she 
 could sincerely admire her friend. What a night for the 
 restored associates was that ! Anita was banished to her 
 own apartment. They shared Edith's, and had one good 
 unrestrained, all night's, universal, never-ending, all-em 
 bracing girls' talk, amazing and incomprehensible to 
 men. 
 
 Mary had an affianced lover in the Canada West con 
 tingent, the gallant Lieutenant Gordon." The nuptials 
 had been postponed by the war for a year. The year 
 had elapsed, time called, and the faithful maiden came in 
 prompt response. All this had sprung up and matured 
 since the girls last met. 
 
 Edith, in her heart, though she greatly admired Gor 
 don, had never forgiven him for his untimely intervention
 
 Return of the Exiles. 225 
 
 and arrest of Dudley. He had partly redeemed himself 
 by the testimony he bore of Dudley's conduct before 
 Proctor ; but why need he come on such an errand, his 
 men throwing the butts of their old muskets down with 
 such a startling sound ? True enough, it gave her lover 
 notice and time enough to retreat, but that was the last 
 thing on earth she then desired, as he might have known. 
 Very well, he was Mary's lover. That added a needed 
 inch to his height, and surrounded him with a halo of 
 romance which transformed him to a hero. Their love 
 history had its incidents, its episodes. Edith was always 
 sympathetic in the affairs of her friend, of all women. 
 Now Mary found her an apt, appreciative listener. Her 
 story does not belong to this history, which is obliged to 
 await the inefficiency of the American navy department, 
 in equipping and manning Perry's fleet. 
 
 During the lulls, brakes, and questioning times of Edith 
 in this true story of her love, Mary had time to study the 
 face and form of her friend. An elusive something 
 arrested her attention and puzzled her. Edith dis 
 covered that Mary detected or fancied she did, some 
 thing curious in herself, and was about to ask what it was. 
 Mary anticipated her. 
 
 " Turn a little, Edith. I saw it yesterday. Let me 
 have a better look at you. What under the moon is it ? " 
 she said. This was after her history and its discussion 
 had subsided. 
 
 " What is what ? " 
 
 " That is the puzzling thing. In some way my Joan of 
 Arc has disappeared, and I find a very lovely, soft, sweet 
 girl, with heart, tears, and sympathies for love and 
 lovers." 
 15
 
 226 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 " Well, upon my word ! " laughing and coloring with 
 consciousness. 
 
 "'How very prettily you color ! Who can he be ? " 
 
 " Who can who be ? " now coloring more. 
 
 " Your lover. I've heard all about Home he's not 
 the man." 
 
 " Will you explain yourself ? What is the elusive some 
 thing you fancy in me ? Then we can talk of the man." 
 
 " Well, you were perfect before. Yet, you are a trifle 
 rounded. It is not that, but a wistful sweetness I can't 
 describe it in your eyes, face, as if something had come, 
 or was looked for ; some new thing in you, asking for 
 something or somebody." 
 
 " Oh ! Something you can't see, nor hear, nor think," 
 laughing, her color deepening. " Well ? " 
 
 " Well," dropping her eyes from her vain study, " I 
 had a wise old grandmother, a bit of a philosopher in 
 her old* woman's way," pausing. 
 
 " Oh, we've all heard of her." 
 
 " Yes. They say no woman understands herself. She 
 seems to have had notions of women. Let me tell you. 
 It was her notion that when a girl, any maiden you know, 
 met the one, the predestined one, and became very, very 
 much interested, our dear old mother, who always knows 
 what is going on, and what is for the best of all, silently, 
 in her own way, prepares her for what awaits her." 
 
 " Why, Mary, how absurd ! Do you believe any such 
 thing ? " 
 
 " How should I know ? " laughing and coloring in turn. 
 
 " Why should you ? You are soon to be a bride." 
 Then they both laughed. 
 
 " Well, you see, the girl herself would never know." 
 
 " Well, let me look at you," said Edith, in turn, looking
 
 Return of the Exiles. 227 
 
 her friend over of slightly more fully developed form 
 than herself. " Mother nature did her work for you so 
 well," she said, laughing again, " Certainly Ed has the 
 best reason to think so." 
 
 " Oh, Ed was not hard to please, fortunately." 
 
 Then more teasing from Mary, as to a possible lover. 
 The hour of confidence for Edith had not come. 
 
 " I shall ask this princess of the woods what a dark, 
 arch thing she is," said Mary. 
 
 " Yes," said Edith, with assumed carelessness. " She 
 will know all about it." 
 
 " Oh, I'll ask her. She looks so cunning, and full of 
 something too good to keep. Were there any handsome 
 prisoners ? Say what you will, we Americans can give 
 odds to the average Englishman." 
 
 " Ed of course is above the average ? " 
 
 " No woman marries an average man," was the answer. 
 
 Nor did she. The wedding was what we should call 
 swell. 
 
 May ran into June, and June swelled and waned to 
 hot, voluptuous July, when came the trumpet call to 
 battle, and the bride must be left wholly to the sympathy 
 of her appreciative friend.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 SANDUSKY. 
 
 TECUMSEH chafed under idleness. Here was his 
 host of thriftless warriors. There was Camp 
 Meigs, and sixty miles below, Camp Seneca, with exposed 
 Fort Stephenson, approachable from the lake. He re 
 quired action. If Proctor would retain his allies he had 
 no choice. Tecumseh planned the capture of Meigs. To 
 Proctor it seemed admirable. The whole force, white and 
 red, streamed forth the British and many Indians on 
 shipboard, the rest through the woods to capture 
 Meigs. It involved a mock-battle. The soldiers, on their 
 way as if from Camp Seneca to their friends at Camp 
 Meigs, were to fall into an Indian ambush so near the 
 camp that when the deceived garrison should sally out to 
 the rescue, both combatants would turn upon and over 
 whelm them. 
 
 The firing in the mock-battle died away ; the Indian 
 yells dwindled to echoes ; the enemy silently withdrew 
 the British to their ships to sail for Sandusky Bay, and 
 Tecumseh's warriors to swarm across the Black Swamp 
 to cut off isolated Stephenson the second objective 
 point of attack. 
 
 With nightfall, there dawned upon the startled gar 
 rison of Meigs, the real character of the peril and the 
 
 228
 
 Sandusky. 229 
 
 narrow escape from it. Days elapsed ere they ceased to 
 shudder at the strait through which that escape was 
 made. 
 
 Fort Stephenson stood on the west side of the beauti 
 ful Sandusky, many yards from the bank, there not high, 
 and near the western margin of a small prairie, the 
 river being near the eastern-most line of the treeless 
 plains. Harrison deemed the stockade indefensible 
 against heavy guns, and left a standing order to Major 
 Croghan, that if approached by a force thus armed, to 
 remove the public property betimfis, and rejoin him at 
 Camp Seneca, where he then had about 800 raw troops. 
 
 Proctor, with the 41 st and other regulars, his heavy 
 guns and 500 Indians, made his appearance at the head 
 of the bay on the last day of July. Meantime, Tecumseh 
 occupied the woods between the fort and Camp Seneca, 
 with two thousand warriors, the elite of the Indian army, 
 deemed ample to hold Harrison in check, or destroy him 
 if he should come forth to aid leaguered Stephenson, 
 while the British disposed of the little fort. 
 
 On the report of this force, Harrison sent a peremp 
 tory order to Croghan to withdraw. The gallant major, 
 then fully twenty-one years of age, returned a peremptory- 
 refusal. " I can defend the fort and by heavens I will," 
 were the concluding words of the curt reply. Harrison 
 dispatched Major Mills to relieve him, and ordered -him 
 to headquarters. The youth explained. He expected his 
 reply would fall into the enemy's hands. The woods were 
 full of Indians, and while a few men could elude them, his 
 force could not. He was permitted to return and resume 
 the command. Dudley asked permission to accompany 
 him, and share his fortunes. Harrison had great confi 
 dence in the skill and coolness of his chief, and readily
 
 230 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 consented. The young men reached the imperilled fort 
 in safety. The well-known form of Dudley was a shield. 
 Tecumseh had ordered that if met alone, or with a small 
 party, he should neither be killed or captured. 
 
 Proctor placed his guns in position, and in a hurried, half 
 prepared way, commenced his assault. The secret of his 
 haste was long a mystery to his enemy. The eastern 
 bank of the river, opposite the fort, was left unoccupied. 
 The unexpected appearance of a small party of citizens on 
 this bank, wholly fortuitous as is now known, induced a 
 supposition that it was the advance of a force from 
 Cleveland. The party discovered the presence of the Brit 
 ish and Indians in time to turn back and escape. Proctor 
 was alarmed and determined to open, if on summons the 
 fort was not surrendered. He and his officers believed 
 it would be given up on demand, and hence he cared less 
 about being in perfect readiness for an effective bom 
 bardment. 
 
 The first duty of the returned commander was to re 
 ceive and reply to this summons. Proctor's embassy 
 was composed of, Colonel Elliott, Captain Chambers, 
 Captain Dickinson, and Lieutenant Gordon. Croghan 
 was represented by Lieutenant Shipp, accompanied by 
 Dudley, who as a volunteer was without command or 
 rank. These met the British outside the fort near a 
 small ravine. Dudley was recognized by the Englishmen 
 who greeted him pleasantly. He explained his position 
 and referred them to Lieutenant Shipp. 
 
 Colonel Elliott. General Proctor desires to spare a use 
 less effusion of blood. His guns, now all in position, will 
 destroy your works in half an hour. The woods about 
 you are filled with savages, who cannot be restrained if 
 we are obliged to reduce your works.
 
 Sandusky. 231 
 
 Lieutenant Shipp. The fort will be defended to the last 
 extremity. My commander is resolved on that. The 
 demand is refused. 
 
 Colonel Elliott. I pray you consider, be advised ; I am 
 sure Major Dudley must see the uselessness of resist 
 ance. 
 
 ZW/<y(with a little flash). I am here for the ex 
 press purpose of seeing you do your worst, Colonel 
 Elliott. 
 
 Captain Chambers (imperiously). Your commander will 
 certainly regret his rashness. When we are in pos 
 session of your works, no power on earth can restrain the 
 Indians. The last man will be massacred. 
 
 Lieutenant Shipp (haughtily). There will then be no man 
 to massacre ; you and your allies may do what you will 
 with the dead. 
 
 Captain Dickinson (pathetically). I shall alway deplore 
 the fate of such fine young men. 
 
 Dudley (with a touch of gay irony). Thanks, my dear 
 Captain. We will do what we may in our own way to 
 save your tears. 
 
 The parting was in silence. Two or three Indians had 
 drawn near, under cover of a clump of bushes. As the 
 Americans turned back they sprang toward them, and 
 one attempted to snatch Shipp's sword from its scabbard. 
 Dudley dashed him aside. The Americans drew their 
 swords and confronted the warriors, who with brandished 
 tomahawks stood on the defensive. 
 
 The British turned back, and Elliott shouted in an 
 angry voice to the Indians, " Begone, dogs! " and they 
 went cowering away. 
 
 " Poor devils ! they knew it was their only chance," 
 called out Dudley to the Englishmen gayly.
 
 232 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 At that instant Croghan showed on the parapet. 
 
 " Come in, boys," he shouted, " and I'll blow them 
 to h in half a minute." 
 
 The great guns opened one after another as at Meigs. 
 The wide throated howitzers and cohorns sent shot and 
 shells. The deep intonations set the summer leaves in a 
 tremor, rolled up the bright Sandusky, warning Harrison 
 of the peril of his devoted officers and soldiers all the 
 livelong night, the next morning, all day, till five of the 
 afternoon ; then the final effort came. 
 
 Through these thunderous hours there was little the 
 defenders could do. Croghan had ten or twelve trained 
 gunners ; these, with his one six-pounder, he placed under 
 the command of Dudley. As usual, food for this one 
 gun was scant. Dudley moved it from one block-house 
 to another to produce the impression on the enemy of 
 many pieces. A few shots were exchanged between 
 prudent Indians and cautious sharpshooters. The 
 dreaded "old Meigs," the Ohio gun, was there, and used 
 effectively more than once. The British fire was concen 
 trated on the north-west angle, and though strengthened 
 with bags of sand and flour, here the assault would be 
 made. The columns would sweep forward, dash over the 
 glacis, leap into the ditch, cut through what the 24- 
 pounders should leave, and fight their way in. Five 
 hundred trained soldiers with bayonets, and 500 Indian 
 warriors, once an opening was made, would make quick 
 work of the 160 Americans, though led by Croghan and 
 Dudley, and six or eight more equally brave and trained 
 officers. The skilled instincts of the young men knew 
 when the decisive hour would come, as their training 
 and experience taught them just how the attempt would 
 be made.
 
 Sandusky. 233 
 
 Dudley placed his gun in position to sweep the ditch to 
 be crossed by the assailants, charged with a half allow 
 ance of powder and a thribble grist of musket-balls, 
 slugs, scraps of iron, and grape, and masked from the 
 assailants. There were some hundreds of new muskets 
 on deposit in the fort, in excess of those used by the 
 infantry. These were inspected, their flints fixed, loaded, 
 and placed in convenient reach of the soldiers. 
 
 There was a half hour's increase in the rapidity of the 
 firing. The assaulting columns were formed and the 
 nude and painted warriors, with their knives and hatchets, 
 gathered in the wooded margins near. The confident 
 defenders braced themselves for the inevitable struggle. 
 At the signal, Colonel Warburton, with 200 grenadiers, 
 swept around to assail the south side. The men of the 
 41 st were to do the real work. The fated hour, five 
 p. M., of the hot August Sunday, came with a massive 
 thunder cloud blackening the west, its peals now alone 
 heard. Two minutes after, silence fell upon the guns, 
 whose smoke like a white cloud shrouded the near space, 
 when suddenly came the steely gleam of bayonets of the 
 assaulting columns stabbing through it, toward the weak 
 ened angle. They emerged upon the vision of the de 
 fenders thirty yards distant, one led by Colonel Short, 
 the other by the gallant Gordon. From the first smiting 
 hail of American lead the men recoiled. At the call of 
 their officers they steadied, and pushed across the narrow 
 space, scorched by the blasting fire, withering, blinding, 
 maddening. On they came, on over the glacis, leaping 
 into the ditch below. 
 
 " Cheerily, cheerily, boys, Fall to ! fall to ! my men," 
 called their fearless colonel, and maddened by his loss, 
 and what to him was a criminally useless defence, he
 
 234 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 added, turning to the now waiting soldiers : " Give the 
 damned Yankees no quarter ! " 
 
 At the instant a sound drew his attention to the right. 
 The masque fell from the gorged six-pounder, a blazing 
 match lit up the flashing face of Dudley, then a wide 
 belch of fire and death, as from the nether world. 
 
 Gordon's column in like manner, scorched and smitten, 
 had also leaped in. A second rending discharge of the 
 six-pounder, and Frenchtown and old Fort Miami were 
 avenged. Whatever had life and limbs dropped unused 
 axe and useless musket, and scrambled out of the reeking 
 ditch, hot with gushing blood, and scampered, panic- 
 stricken beings, to the nearest cover, and the battle was 
 over on that side. 
 
 Short and Gordon fell. The last act of the furious 
 colonel was to twist a white handkerchief on his sword 
 point, a mute appeal for the mercy to his brave wounded 
 he had forbidden them to extend to their slayers. Over 
 a half hundred were left in that reeking trench. Five 
 minutes more and the ground on that side was clear of 
 the foe. The catastrophe had overtaken Short and Gor 
 don ere Warburton and his tall grenadiers reached their 
 point of attack. The fire that greeted them was too hot 
 and fatal. They also broke under it and fled for cover 
 to the not remote forest. No Indians were in the assault. 
 
 Beaten, stung with the loss of a fourth of his soldiers, 
 after nightfall Proctor sent his stealthy Indians to gather 
 up such of his dead and wounded as they could come at, 
 and before three o'clock of the next morning, with his 
 hurriedly embarked soldiers, he was on his way down the 
 bay, leaving a vessel with valuable clothing and supplies 
 to his enemy. 
 
 As the day closed on the Americans, the shifting wind
 
 Sandusky. 235 
 
 sent the black thunder clouds northward over the lake, 
 which was to bear the burden of the next battle, and the 
 last rays of the now Sabbath sun lit up their flag still 
 floating over their battle battered walls. The tide of war 
 had turned. No hostile foot was again to press that 
 northern border of the young Ohio, save as prisoners in 
 the last and greatest war. 
 
 The fatally repulsed expedition ary force came back to 
 Maiden, with its humiliation heightened by the fact that 
 it was inflicted on them by 160 Americans under a mere 
 boy, in a pen of logs, and one six-pounder. 
 
 Gordon came not with it. The last his countrymen 
 saw of him, was when with branished sabre he called to 
 his soldiers and leaped into the trench. It was said that 
 he was slain. The sky turned dark and the earth faded 
 from the vision of his swooning, expectant bride. When 
 she returned to consciousness Edith was with her. She 
 came back to realize the certainty of her loss. 
 
 " No, no, Mary, do not utterly despair of his life. I was 
 told that the most beautiful, and the bravest of men, the 
 beginning and end of love for me, had fallen in battle. I 
 saw him in vision, mangled by the warriors I had armed, 
 yet within an hour came the tidings that he lived." 
 
 Mary heard the words as a kindly figure of speech, 
 bringing small hope, and she saw not their pertinence to 
 the experience of her friend, who yet could so entirely 
 enter into her feelings. Edith, on the strength of her own 
 history, felt a strong assurance that they would certairtly 
 soon hear that Gordon was with the Americans, a pris 
 oner. To her repetition of this, her friend came to listen 
 finally with something of rekindling hope. At near night 
 fall of the day following the return of the British, came 
 an Indian runner from Brownstown bringing an open let-
 
 236 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 ter to General Proctor, under the care of Mr. Grayson. 
 It came to Edith's hand and she read it. 
 
 " FORT STEPHENSON, August 4, 1813. 
 " General, 
 
 "Lieutenant Gordon was severely wounded, 
 and suffered most from loss of blood. Is in good hands 
 will assuredly recover. A flag bearing this note will 
 admit Mrs. Gordon and attendants any friends of his. 
 He will be paroled when wished. All wounded doing 
 well. 
 
 " C. D. 
 " Chief of Staff N. W. Army,' U. S." 
 
 She knew the hand, and had familiarized herself to the 
 significance of the initial signature. In the impulse of 
 grateful emotion she knelt, and with the missive to her 
 lips thanked God for herself, as for her stricken friend. 
 She then ran with it to her, to whom it was as the voice 
 of Him who called back the dead. Then Edith sought 
 her father, who carried the missive to Proctor. 
 
 A verbal message came with it faithfully delivered, as 
 the trained native bearers transmit and deliver messages. 
 A Shawanoe serving with the Americans, carried Dud 
 ley's note to Tecumseh as he was gathering his force to 
 return to Maiden, who sent it forward by a fast runner. 
 
 Gordon was a favorite, and the word that he was safe 
 soon made the circuit of the little circle of officers. It 
 also trahspired from whom the joy bearing note came. 
 Etiith was almost as happy as was the young bride. Her 
 father so managed that the letter came back to her hand, 
 where it remained. 
 
 Early the next morning the little " Edith " with her one 
 tall mast ran down the river with Mary, bearing a letter 
 commending her to General Harrison, with thanks ; also
 
 Sandusky. 237 
 
 an experienced nurse. Edith and Anita saw her off. 
 Five days, and a letter came to Edilh from Mary, cover 
 ing twenty-three pages closely written. She was hopeful 
 and happy. There had come to her a wonderful revela 
 tion, an account of which occupied most of her paper. 
 
 She found her husband in a hopeful way. Dudley 
 rescued him from the gory trench, where life was fast 
 ebbing way. The now happy youth told his wife what he 
 knew of his friend's luckless love. This then was the 
 suspected lover. Of course she met Dudley, and found 
 opportunity to verify Gordon's statement. The young 
 American said little to her and she saw that he accepted 
 the tent scene and Edith's words as final of their relations 
 and rendering his love hopeless. 
 
 Five days later the " Edith " bore the wedded lovers 
 back to Maiden. 
 
 Perry was abroad with his armed ships seeking his foe,
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WATCHING WAITING. 
 
 THE native warriors returned from Sandusky dis 
 appointed, discontented, sullen. Many whose vil 
 lages were nearest stole away with their women and 
 children, as the way of the uncertain Indian is. 
 
 Tecumseh had now no confidence in Proctor as a gen 
 eral, no trust in his honor as a man. He constantly com 
 pared him with Brock, which was unfortunate. While they 
 held the lake undisputed, he would have swept all the 
 settlements on its southern border. Because the enemy 
 sheltered himself behind palisades, he could see no 
 reason why Proctor should butt his stupid head against 
 them. Pontiac failed to take Detroit. They failed to 
 take Fort Harrison, Fort Wayne, Meigs and Stephenson. 
 The Americans would never fight unless in a log pen, with 
 a ditch around it. Let him stick to his coop if he wanted 
 to. He would leave him there, go by him, and sweep 
 everything from around him. He would lay waste all his 
 plantations, make desert the settlements, cut off all sup 
 plies that was his plan. 
 
 Now what? Suppose Barclay took the new ships, 
 what then ? They would be just where they were before. 
 Harrison in his forts, Proctor withdrawing his sore head 
 from them ; and so it would go, till the warriors deserted, 
 then Harrison would come and Proctor would run away. 
 
 If his one armed father failed if Perry took his ships, 
 238
 
 Watching Waiting. 239 
 
 Harrison would come in all the ships. He saw no prepa 
 ration to fight him at his landing. The guns had gone 
 from the forts, all the warriors saw that. No wonder 
 they were discouraged. The Sacs, the Foxes, the Chip- 
 pewas, and Sioux could not go so easily. Tecumseh had 
 lost the heart and hope which enabled him to hold, gov 
 ern, and lead them. He put on added austerity at times ; 
 at times more address. His personal resources though 
 remarkable were fully taxed. He was in constant asso 
 ciation with the chiefs of the remote tribes, was their sole 
 hope and stay. He knew their defection would ruin all. 
 Walk-in-the-Water had shown signs of walking away on 
 land. All would go but those of his immediate personal 
 following. For himself to withdraw would be to return 
 to the intolerable condition of things which drove them 
 to war, aggravated by a virtual defeat. The Americans 
 had lost many men, and their numbers in no way seemed 
 to diminish. 
 
 The Indians had many causes of complaint, and the 
 chief approached the general with a freedom none other 
 dared assume. 
 
 The militia though dismissed with contempt were soon 
 called to resume their arms which they were prompt to 
 do ; little was grown for subsistence, and now Perry was 
 abroad. The question of food soon became pressing. 
 The subjects of the " King of the Woods " were served 
 with horse-flesh, while the soldiers had beef. At his 
 demand this had to be set right. 
 
 He was on Bois Blanc Island when Perry first ap 
 proached Maiden. He was pleased that he came. He 
 assured his warriors that the British would go forth and 
 destroy his ships. He believed they would. The Indians 
 hastened down to the shore to see the battle. The chief
 
 240 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 saw no signs that their ships were even going out. He 
 launched his canoe and hastened to Proctor. 
 
 " You boasted a few days since that you commanded 
 the lake. Why don't you go out and fight the Americans? 
 See, see them yonder they have come for you ! They 
 dare you ! You shall go and fight them." * 
 
 There seemed to him no excuse. None why the new 
 ship was not ready. The Americans had built ten in the 
 meantime. 
 
 When the new ship was done, and Barclay refused 
 Perry's more formal challenge, Tecumseh was certain 
 that something beside material was wanting. He dis 
 trusted Barclay, and began to have misgivings of the 
 result when the fleets should join battle. Barclay was 
 reluctant. The fleet in his hand was what he had asked 
 for, when he knew to a gun the proposed force of the 
 American. 
 
 The matter of supplies became imperious. The men, 
 the sailors were on short rations. The fleet must go to 
 Long Point. On the way it must meet and fight the 
 American. 
 
 The morning of September 10 was the beginning of 
 a ripe summer day, and the six royal ships in the glory of 
 fresh paint, white canvas, and flags, went forth to battle 
 and assured victory. There was a great waving of hand 
 kerchiefs from dock yards and points of observation, and 
 a dipping of flags from fort and standard bearers. The 
 ladies of Windsor and Maiden were there, with the scar 
 let plumed officers, gay and high-hearted, to see them 
 sail to the conquest of green, dimpling Erie. 
 
 In a group conspicuously apart, stood Mrs, Proctor, 
 
 * Drake's " Tecumseh."
 
 Watching Waiting. 24 1 
 
 Edith Grayson, Mary Gordon, and Anita. How glad and 
 proud the brave show made them ! Britain sending forth 
 her ships and sailors to chastise an insolent foe on her 
 chosen field. Undoubtedly they would be gallantly met. 
 Mrs. Gordon brought back a great deal of American 
 gossip of young Perry. They knew the English officers 
 spoke respectfully of him. They knew he would fight 
 heroically, persistently. Since the older Hollanders, the 
 English had met no such foes on the sea as these young, 
 lithe Americans. Many brave men would fall. All 
 three ladies were each devoutly thankful that the one 
 dearest was not on those low, unguarded decks. Neither 
 they nor any spectator had misgiving of the result. Ere 
 nightfall, the king's ships would return, convoying the 
 lately defying ships of the foe, captive and abased. 
 
 Away they went down the river and out of sight. 2'hey 
 did come once again. The sun clomb the cloudless sky. 
 The meridian was reached, the anxious spectators still 
 waited. Noon passed, then a single boom ; another, 
 then a roar came rolling up the lake, striking the wooded 
 shores, lifting and rolling over the forest, swelling up the 
 river, and spreading in waves over the level shores. The 
 forts at Maiden and farther Detroit heard the voices of 
 their own guns. What a start that first gun gave them 
 all ! More than did the heavy broadsides later. Then 
 came the fainter notes of the enemy's reply. The battle 
 had joined, and raged, then a lull with single guns. The 
 battle was over ! No. A burst of guns, then quiet. Two 
 hours since the first sure it was over now. Somehow 
 after the ships disappeared down the river, and were out of 
 sight, misgiving stole traitorously into the hearts of the 
 waiters, watchers, and prayers at Maiden. Shots came 
 again, singly, increasing, became indistinguishable ; then 
 16
 
 242 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 bursts upon bursts like awful peals of thunder ! Louder 
 and louder; overtopping, swallowing the memory of the 
 earlier tumult. All the guns of all the ships, more than 
 one hundred cannon in continous concert. This was the 
 battle at close quarters ! What man could survive it ? 
 What ship float under it ? Briton and American madly 
 bent on mutual destruction. Surely, Barclay had laid his 
 foe close aboard, was breaking his line as taught by the 
 great admiral. The cloud of battle rose on the south 
 eastern horizon, spread and pyred upward. The lake 
 was obscured as the southern breeze wafted the sulphurous 
 cloud northward. Ten or fifteen minutes of this awful 
 tumult, then silence as from heaven fell over the lake. 
 That was the battle past their conception of its possible 
 din. How had it gone ? Oh, how had it gone ? Who had 
 thought this question could arise ? They had underrated 
 this young American lieutenant. They had counted 
 Dudley as exceptional. This Perry was the superior of 
 Dudley. Surely "Barclay of Trafalgar," as they were 
 fond of calling the old hero, had been fairly matched. 
 The American had fought all his ships, all his guns, all 
 his men, to their utmost. Had he submitted ? God, what 
 a question ! 
 
 The battle was really over, all the glasses from all the 
 heights saw no further signs, nor heard further note of it. 
 
 Light craft were clown in the lake the " Edith " with 
 others, to observe, gather up the news. Indians were on 
 the lower shore. Mid afternoon nothing. Later, a sail, 
 then another arose. Their lookout returning ? No. 
 They were war vessels. The van of their victorious fleet 
 returning ! Joy ! Joy ! Soon two more appeared. How 
 is this ? Victors would come together. They must be 
 their craft of observation, only they had but three.
 
 Watching Waiting. 243 
 
 While these queries were pending, the two stern-most 
 opened fire on those nearest. Were these the Americans 
 fleeing ? They would not come that way. These nearer 
 returned the fire. Not many shots, and the affair between 
 them was over. The two in pursuit approached the pur 
 sued who made no effort to escape. The ships neared, 
 were in a group, then all headed down the lake ! God of 
 heaven ! This was not victory ! These fleeing were their 
 ships, crippled past escape or defence, were captured, 
 lost! 
 
 The fleet was lost, Detroit, Maiden, Canada West 
 all! 
 
 What a night of despair for the British shore.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MRS. GORDON AS AMBASSADOR. 
 
 TECUMSEH and his warriors, as claimed, may have 
 seen the battle, and the sailing of the ships the 
 next morning into American waters. The lookout sails 
 stole back to Maiden in the night. It was certainly 
 known on the morning of the nth, that the united fleets 
 sailed into Perry's Bay, and Tecumseh demanded of 
 Proctor the meaning of this movement, whenever he 
 learned it. 
 
 " My ships have whipped the American," he replied. 
 " Of course they are much damaged. They will all be 
 here in a few days." 
 
 Tecumseh was unbelieving. He saw signs of flight. 
 The eyes of his chiefs were acute. They shared their 
 leader's opinion of Proctor. They believed his ships 
 were lost ; that the Americans would now be upon them. 
 " We will fight them when they come. In the woods, if 
 they march ; when, and where they land, if they come in 
 the big canoes. We will not retreat," was the result 
 of their consultations. 
 
 Tecumseh saw the valuable and heavy property sent 
 up the river. He demanded the meaning of it. Proctor 
 said he was sending it up the Thames for safety. The 
 chief would not be trifled with. He demanded a council. 
 Proctor was compelled to assent. All the chiefs were 
 present. Elliott was to interpret. In his speeches 
 
 244
 
 Mrs. Gordon as Ambassador. 245 
 
 Tecumseh always used his native tongue. When all 
 were seated, he arose and delivered the well-known 
 speech or phillipic part of the history of the war.* 
 
 The English, though simple and dignified, reads tamely. 
 The chief arose in his native costume, the simple hunting 
 shirt and leggings ; fixed his eye upon the general, and 
 never removed it. His look and mobile face, his flashing 
 eye, graceful, rapid, vehement gesture, and tones of voice, 
 quite advised Proctor of its biting qualities, its sarcastic 
 irony, and contemptuous spirit. He did not wish to hear 
 an oral translation of it. Elliott secured it by a method 
 of his own. 
 
 Proctor had the tact to say when it was ended, that 
 it was of such importance that Colonel Elliott would 
 deliver him a written copy, which he wished to lay before 
 their father, Mr. Grayson, who as they knew represented 
 their Canadian father, Governor Prevost, and that by 
 him his answer should be returned the next day. 
 
 This was satisfactory because the chief had unchanged 
 confidence in Grayson, undiminished regard for Edith. 
 The only thing in her he ever disapproved, was her treat 
 ment of Dudley American though he was. 
 
 Mr. Grayson delivered Proctor's reply in the first per 
 son. It was in fact his, and translated paragraph by par 
 agraph as delivered. 
 
 " My brothers will hear me," he began. " I have con 
 sidered the chief's words, which are weighty. I will not 
 say he labors under mistakes. The same things appear 
 differently to different men. I will not .now speak of the 
 past. To-day is too important to be wasted on yesterday. 
 General Proctor has to depend on Governor Prevost. If 
 
 * See Drake's " Tecumseh."
 
 246 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 he has failed in his word to you, his Canada father did 
 not furnish the means. 
 
 " Listen, that we may hear and know how we are sit 
 uated to-day, so that we may act wisely and all together. 
 We have lost all our ships. The Americans, contrary to 
 our expectations, captured them. Brave men do not sit 
 and cry for a lost battle. Let the women do that. The 
 wise chief sees how he can repair the loss, save himself 
 from more loss. 
 
 " What is wisest for us now to do ? We can bemoan, 
 we can find fault, we can reproach. These do not help 
 us. They help the Americans. Our scouts say General 
 Harrison has 15,000 soldiers at Sandusky. Let us sup 
 pose he has half that many. That gives him nearly five 
 to our one. He has all the ships to bring them here. 
 Can we meet him when he lands, under the muzzles of 
 all his great guns ? Were Brock here, would he attempt 
 that ? Our great guns went in our ships. The Ameri 
 cans will now bring them to fight us. Our forts without 
 their guns could not destroy his ships, nor have we 
 enough left to defend them with. 
 
 " Let my brothers hear me. 
 
 " Could we beat the Americans back, how can we live 
 here? 
 
 " We are very short of provisions now. We have no 
 corn, no wheat. Winter is upon us. Your warriors and 
 women are without blankets, our soldiers without clothes. 
 
 " We can bring no more from Long Point. Everything 
 now must come from Burlington Heights, 200 miles 
 through the woods. When they reach the Thames, they 
 might now be captured before they reach us. 
 
 " Would it not be wiser for us to all go on to the
 
 Mrs. Gordon as Ambassador. 247 
 
 Thames, where we would meet our supplies and so be 
 sure of them ? 
 
 " Let my brothers listen. Where can we best fight 
 the American ? Here, where he can come with all his 
 ships, all his soldiers, all his big guns ? If he had to 
 follow us on to the Thames, he must leave part of his 
 ships, men, and guns, here. The farther he had to go, the 
 fewer soldiers could he bring to fight us with. 
 
 " We will not go beyond his reach. Is it not wise to go 
 so far, that he will be obliged to fight us with an army, 
 that we can be very certain of beating ? Then he must 
 turn and run from us and we pursue him. 
 
 " If for these reasons it is wise to take up a new posi 
 tion on the upper Thames, where our remaining guns can 
 be carried, where our gunboats can go, where a fort 
 might be built, and where but a part of the American 
 army could follow us, it would be wise to go at once, and 
 have everything in readiness to meet the Americans. 
 
 " We will destroy the fort at Detroit ; ruin and make 
 useless all the fortifications at Maiden, so the Americans 
 shall find only wreck and ruin. We will take off every 
 horse, all the means which would help him in his war 
 against us, leaving only food for those who do not go 
 with us. 
 
 " Colonel Elliott has made all my words plain in your 
 ears. My brothers will ponder them wisely and General 
 Tecumseh will render an answer to General Proctor, 
 when it shall please him." 
 
 " Will my father go with the army to the Thames? " 
 asked Tecumseh. 
 
 " So long as my brother and the chiefs and their 
 warriors remain with General Proctor, I shall go with 
 them."
 
 248 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " My father has spoken well," said the chief, and there 
 was a general assent on the part of the assembled chiefs. 
 
 Tecumseh met Proctor the next day, and assented to 
 the plan of a new position on the upper Thames. The 
 chief imposed the sole condition, that at such point as he 
 should select, subject so far as the ground was concerned 
 to the approval of the general, they should give the 
 Americans battle. With this Proctor expressed himself 
 content. 
 
 Meantime the Indians were to pass over to the Canada 
 side, and be subsisted by McKee, Proctor promising a 
 supply of blankets and food a promise the sorely tried 
 general knew was beyond the hope of present keeping. 
 
 American officers and writers agreed with Tecumseh 
 that Proctor's true course was the heroic one, assault Har 
 rison at his landing. They allege that his personal fear 
 inspired his action. Whatever were his faults as a gen 
 eral, or infirmities of character as a man, whoever ex 
 amines the straits in which he found himself will be sat 
 isfied that his weakness was not shown so much in his 
 resolution to retreat as the mode and time of conducting 
 it. 
 
 It is clear that he did not expect to be pursued up the 
 Thames. It is equally clear if he was, he never intended 
 to turn and give battle. What he ultimately intended for 
 his allies is less certain. Probably retain them till he 
 was safe and then leave them to shift for themselves. 
 He would hardly break openly with Tecumseh. It is 
 said he pretended to the chief in this conference that he 
 expected to find reinforcements on the Thames, where he 
 intended to build a strong fort. 
 
 Measures for the evacuation were now actively entered 
 upon. Such an effective demolition of the fortifications,
 
 Mrs, Gordon as Ambassador. 249 
 
 navy yard and public works, was made, as precludes the 
 idea that Proctor expected to return to their occupancy. 
 So cleanly he picked up the horses that on the arrival 
 of the horseless Americans but one sorry beast could be 
 found for the weary generals, and this Harrison assigned 
 to the venerable Governor Shelby, of Kings Mountain 
 fame. Leisurely criminally so, if he expected pursuit, 
 Proctor sent off his valuables. Many of the loyal citizens 
 wanted to go ; in short a vast amount of unmilitary 
 material and men accompanied him which could but em 
 barrass him, should prompt action become necessary. 
 
 Finally the army took up its march. The Indians, 
 warriors and women were on the move the easiest mobi 
 lized of any force. 
 
 Proctor's rear guard did not leave Maiden till Sep 
 tember 28, and then it was almost an escape. 
 
 Harrison was at that hour landing four miles below. 
 
 Colonel Johnson with his famous Kentucky legion of 
 mounted infantry was at Camp Meigs. When the fleet 
 and transports reached the Maumee, he marched to 
 Detroit, keeping abreast of the transports up the river, 
 bringing joy to Frenchtown, and sending a thrill to 
 Detroit from which fell Proctor's fetters of odious 
 martial law. The American flag was raised over the 
 dismantled fort, on his arrival. 
 
 Harrison landed on the low shore covered by sand 
 ridges. Beyond these he expected to find the embattled 
 Britons flanked by their allies. His advance found an 
 empty plain. The approach to deserted and dismantled 
 Maiden betrayed its condition. 
 
 With his staff and a guard, Harrison pushed forward 
 near the town. Instead of an army he was met by 
 a small party of ladies apparently seeking an interview
 
 250 The Tory's Daughter, 
 
 with the commander. Seeing the enemy, they paused, 
 waiting to be approached. Harrison, attended by young 
 General Cass, went forward to learn their wishes. 
 
 Lovely Mrs. Gordon was with them, whom the gen 
 eral had met at Fort Stephenson. She took a little step 
 forward and stood distressed, hardly daring to look up. 
 
 " Mrs. Gordon ! " cried the general, lifting his plumed 
 hat and smiling graciously. " What do you wish ? You 
 have but to name it if it depends on me." 
 
 She hesitated, reddened, turned pale, tears in her eyes. 
 " How can I say it ! How " she broke down. 
 
 Harrison advanced, took her hand. " Be composed, I 
 pray you. You have no cause for alarm at my presence. 
 You, your friends and people, shall remain as free and 
 receive as full protection in all possible ways as if 
 under your own flag." 
 
 " Oh, I knew it, I knew it ! It was that we came to 
 ask." 
 
 " Those whose pleasure it is to protect you, have been 
 called by duty elsewhere ; we will see that want of safety 
 is not added to your other troubles. I may not hope my 
 presence will give you pleasure. I will make it as little 
 painful as possible. This say from me to all your people. 
 I will issue a general order which will allay apprehen 
 sion, I trust." 
 
 "Thanks ! thanks, General ! Had I had we selected 
 an enemy to rule us, it would have been General Har 
 rison." She said it very well. The general bowed. 
 
 " These are ladies of Maiden. You have so kindly 
 anticipated our errand that we can only thank you," she 
 added, now her usual self. They all murmured thanks. 
 
 " I can have but a word now, Mrs. Gordon. I shall 
 send round to inquire after your husband."
 
 Mrs. Gordon as Ambassador. 251 
 
 "Thanks, General." And the ladies turned back to 
 discuss the general, as women would under any circum 
 stances. 
 
 Harrison had taken in the whole situation, or he had 
 not lingered there in the first hour, in the enemy's 
 country.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 FLIGHT. 
 
 WHEN the Gordons returned from Sandusky, 
 everything at Maiden was alarm and expectation. 
 There were abundant opportunities for meetings and long 
 talks between the restored friends. Mary had her hus 
 band, who had passed the period of anxiety with his 
 wounds to one of tender care, and for whom time alone 
 was needed for full recovery. His position was to her 
 one of exceptional advantage; he was exempt for the 
 present from the peril of battle, yet the poor fellow was 
 beginning to chafe at this enforced inaction during this 
 time of din and preparation for coming conflict, which 
 would involve all arms. 
 
 Edith was a person of scarcely less interest to her 
 friend. She now for the first time had a tender appreci 
 ative woman of her own race, to whom she could confide 
 her heart's history. Mary was a woman of a sensitive, 
 proud nature, not yet abased, as some are, by the inti 
 mate association which marriage permits with a coarser 
 fibred man. She understood and appreciated Edith's 
 motives, the action of her mind, the elusive play of her 
 maiden instincts, so unappreciable by the average man. 
 She had more than her letter contained to tell of Dudley. 
 Their intimacy was a source of exquisite satisfaction to 
 Edith, who looked upon Mary as an expert in the ways 
 
 252
 
 Flight. 253 
 
 of the hearts and loves of men, from her position as a 
 lover and her two months' experience as a bride. 
 
 There was no time or material of which plans could be 
 constructed to advance the tender interests of the 
 exceptional lovers, in the presence of this horrid war. 
 They were in hostile camps, about to send forth their 
 soldiers to battle. 
 
 Then came the awful fight on the lake, followed by 
 the certainty of Harrison's approach, the terror of his 
 coming, the hurry, disgrace, and mortal depression inci 
 dent to the escape from him. Escape it was in the eyes 
 of these women. 
 
 The gay, high-hearted Anita was a source of hope and 
 spirit through the darkness of these days. She hoped 
 Edith would remain at Maiden, with her friends the 
 Gordons. She was conscious of occupying a position on 
 her own account. She had several times met the young 
 Recl-Wing from the distant Rock River, beyond Lake 
 Michigan. It was thought, too, that the defection of 
 young Little-Turtle was on her account. Whether it was 
 or not, he had returned to his village beyond the Wabash 
 on the Eell River. 
 
 Edith had no choice save to accompany her father, who 
 saw if the war on the lake was adverse, that retreat or 
 surrender was inevitable for them. She had an inter 
 view with. Tecumseh. He had made up his mind: He 
 was firm, resolved, doing all in his power, but oppressed 
 with the gloom which is not a stranger to men of the 
 highest endowments. He expressed concern for her, 
 spoke of Dudley, his own personal obligation to him, 
 and his purpose to spare him in battle, if in his power. 
 Edith expressed a doubt of there being a battle. The 
 chief said there would be, and he himself should not
 
 254 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 survive it. Edith was shocked by his gloomy view of 
 his own fate, and combated it. She made little impres 
 sion on him. He spoke of his niece with tenderness and 
 concern. His brother, the prophet, was present, and he 
 attended the girls from the chief's quarters on their return. 
 He said his brother looked forward to the Thames 
 expedition as the close of his career. That the pros 
 pect for his people filled him with gloom. Anita rallied 
 him in a brave, high-hearted way, as she had not dared 
 to in the presence of her greater uncle, and spoke words 
 of cheer and hope for him. 
 
 Her example was not lost on Edith. This was the 
 province of a woman in the day of darkness. She, too, 
 had shared the common depression. She was anxious 
 for her father, for Dudley; she had not thought that 
 Tecumseh could be slain, though impressed by his words 
 and manner. She saw Anita was not, and she now 
 rekindled her own spirit from that of her sister. 
 
 She returned to her father's quarters quite in a glow of 
 revived hope and enthusiasm. She visited Mrs. Proctor, 
 whom she found strong and brave, and for the last two or 
 three days ere they departed with the advance, she be 
 came a source of courage and cheerfulness, of hope, to 
 the many whom she met. The effect upon herself was 
 inevitably to restore to her own heart and spirit, not their 
 old enthusiasms, their old illusions, but their old poise, 
 firmness, strength, purpose, and much of the hope, the 
 devotion, of the spring, when they sailed to the conquest 
 of Camp Meigs, now so long ago. 
 
 Cheerily covering from her eyes the ruin about her, she 
 took her seat with Anita in the carriage, with one of Mrs. 
 Proctor's children, and started on the journey for the 
 Thames. Her father had become a member of the gen-
 
 Flight. 255 
 
 eral's staff for the present, and the daughters, a part of Mrs. 
 Proctor's family, for the time. These young women, ex 
 ceptionally endowed, yet differing in gifts and accom 
 plishments, as in race, their lives and fates involved in the 
 great problem of the nations, rode almost gayly forth to 
 the approaching solution of them, in the fiery alembic of 
 battle. The sky was bright, the sun effulgent, the air rich 
 with the sensuousness of ripening autumn. 
 
 They gave themselves to the influences of the day, not 
 dreaming of the forms crystallizing just beyond their 
 horizon, awaiting their approach. 
 
 Let us in advance see something of the scenes of the 
 final catastrophies of our history. The mouth of the 
 Thames is thirty miles due east from Detroit, the river 
 comes from an easterly direction, emptying into Lake St. 
 Clair. In its lower course it is a deep, sinuous, sluggish 
 stream, then navigable for light draft vessels, seventy or 
 eighty miles. In 1813 the easternmost settlement was 
 the Indian Moravian town, of quite an hundred dwellings, 
 standing pleasantly on an eminence on the north bank, a 
 place to be often mentioned. It was about thirty-two or 
 thirty-three miles from the mouth of the Thames. Two 
 or three points along the river are to be borne in mind. 
 One is Dalson's, sixteen miles from Lake St. Clair, on the 
 north side, the first eminence that breaks the level, and 
 near the present town of Chatham. 
 
 There Dalson had made a small opening, and four 
 miles below Dalson's, on the south side, was Drake's farm. 
 At this point the character of the stream changes from a 
 broad, sluggish river to one much narrower, more rapid, 
 and walled in by higher banks ; and the face of the 
 country assumes an undulating form. Ascending from 
 Dalson's, four miles on the north bank was Bowies' farm.
 
 256 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 Still above, and at the foot of the first rapids, was a creek 
 entering from the south, on which was Arnold's mill. 
 Eleven miles further takes us to a point on the north 
 bank, two or three miles from the Moravian town, of 
 great importance in this narrative. 
 
 Returning to the mouth of the river, it may be said 
 that ten or twelve miles of its lower course was through a 
 rich alluvion formed by the Thames and tributaries, won 
 from Lake St. Clair, of the usual character of such depos 
 its ; and for several miles, the surface was a treeless 
 prairie. 
 
 With the rise of the surface to the older formation, 
 began one of the noblest forests of the continent, consist 
 ing largely of the now nearly extinct black walnut, then in 
 its perfection, and nowhere, save exceptionally, did the 
 trees attain such size and height as here. Very many 
 were from four to six feet in diameter, at the usual height 
 of being cut to fell, and it was not remarkable to find one 
 springing round and straight, 90, 100 and 120 feet, to the 
 lower limbs. Grand columns, and crowned with noble 
 tops, huge branches, reaching symmetrically out, like those 
 of the finest elms, or the largest and most perfect hickory. 
 Trees of this species and size command breadth of space. 
 They cannot grow near each other, as do the largest pines 
 and some other conifers, though, like the pine, little or 
 nothing grows beneath their shade, save springing chil 
 dren of their own planting, while the ground is usually 
 firm. After a breadth of this timber other varieties of 
 the trees of the temperate zone appear, and the walnut is 
 the exception. 
 
 It may be remembered that from the Moravian town 
 eastward to Burlington Heights, a distance of 170 miles, 
 the country was covered by the primitive forest.
 
 Flight, 257 
 
 Riding forth, Edith was at the first little inclined to 
 talk. Anita usually took her cue, if not her mood, from 
 her, and left her to her own thoughts. Edith's, as often 
 in these later days, turned to her sister with growing con 
 cern. 
 
 She had fancied, as older persons have, that an Indian 
 girl, by education and training, might become in a few 
 years much like herself. She was wholly unaware of the 
 indestructibility of human nature, and that radical changes 
 require generations under favoring conditions. 
 
 She had planned a joint career : their mission would be 
 the civilization and education of some of the finer and 
 nobler natives. The scheme included nothing of the ten- 
 derest and most intimate relations with the other sex 
 marriage such an alternative had never been presented 
 to her mind save with Home, and that she ever turned 
 from. Her recent experience had given her more accu 
 rate ideas of herself, and sharpened her thoughts and 
 observations of the nature and possibilities of Anita. 
 She was coming to appreciate her for what she was, and 
 would remain, a true daughter of the wood and wild 
 plains, of forest stream and lonely lake, the child of un 
 known centuries of wandering barbarism. Her future was 
 a matter of the greatest anxiety, daily more pressing. 
 Even before the war she had many times noticed a wistful 
 look in the child's eyes, token of virgin longings for bar 
 barian life. 
 
 With the arming of the painted warriors mid the women 
 and papooses, there was a re-awakening of the girl's un 
 tamable nature. She greatly enjoyed the adventure, and 
 wild life, at Camp Meigs ; and now it was plain to Edith, 
 that the child's only regrets at going upon this new quest, 
 were wholly on her sister's account. She naively admit- 
 17
 
 258 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 ted she preferred to be a captive with her sister to the 
 Americans, where the captivity would not be so very irk 
 some. 
 
 " And where the gallant and handsome Red- Wing 
 might swoop down and carry you off. The ' Young 
 Chief ' as you call him, if he ever wishes as you dream, 
 would never think of a bride in the midst of a campaign. 
 My little sister, taller than I am, may as well turn her 
 fancy to her own affairs. I admit I am a little anxious 
 about her, with all these brave young chiefs caracolling 
 round on their gayly pranked ponies," was the substance 
 of Edith's speech in reply. 
 
 " Anita can wait. Indian girl see Americans come, all 
 his horsemen ; Anita heard of them ; they surround the 
 soldiers, take them all, war over them. It won't be long. 
 Young chief come then," looking weirdly from the 
 sides of her eyes, as at a vision beyond the horizon. 
 
 " Anita ! What are you saying ? " half laughing, yet a 
 little disturbed. 
 
 " Won't be long. Indian girl wait ; " laughing at the 
 effect of her conceit on Edith. 
 
 " Child, you are a half witch. Please don't try that on 
 me now." 
 
 Then the child laughed in her old happy way, leaning 
 forward to adjust something, and bringing into relief the 
 rounding lines of her graceful form. Oh, dear, what 
 hope of reclaiming the average Indian, if this gifted 
 daughter of a great and gifted family, was permitted to 
 relapse. Was it a question of permitting ? She re 
 membered how fearlessly and how perfectly Anita rode 
 and managed a spirited horse in the south side woods. 
 She felt a sad certainty that she was equal to mounting 
 another, and riding away with her people, if her heart
 
 Flight. 259 
 
 was with a chosen one. What if one should ask her to 
 ride away with him ? She left it unanswered. 
 
 Edith had escaped from the seat of many months of 
 painful anxieties, trials and labors, to this wide country, 
 with a sense of relief. She threw from her the past, she 
 would not scan the possible future, she dwelt upon her 
 sister a very sister to be loved, cherished, yet still to half 
 fear, as full of wild strength and power, with the nature 
 and will to devote herself with the touching unreserve of 
 a woman. She finally cast this from her thought. 
 
 Along that belt of the continent the season had reached 
 its balancing pause, when ripest summer was changing to 
 deepening autumn, preceding decay, the stripping of the 
 forests of foliage and fruit. The nights were frosty, the 
 days full of softened loveliness ere the faint reflex of 
 summer called the " Indian Summer " was reached. 
 There was nothing now for her hands to do, nothing for 
 her active feet. Her mind was weary of her past. She 
 would be a spectator of what might occur. She could 
 not be an actor. She would be in the open outdoor, 
 as dear to her as to Anita, in the autumn woods, with 
 their color and fragrance. 
 
 The first day's moderate journey was restful to mind 
 and body ; it carried them nearly to Lake St. Clair. The 
 second to Dalson's ; the third to the Moravian town, 
 where preparations were made for their party, and where 
 they would remain till the army approached. Easterly 
 from the lake, they took the road on the north bank of 
 the Thames, up which the gunboats and light craft had 
 transported the guns and material, stores, and heavy 
 baggage, carrying many of the inhabitants, fleeing the 
 dreaded Americans and their savage allies. Very leis 
 urely this was performed. For obvious reasons this north
 
 260 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 bank would be the route of the retiring army. It was 
 not called retreat, certainly not an escape. The officers 
 euphuistically spoke of it as falling back to a stronger 
 position on the Thames, nearer their base, really an ad 
 vance upon their supplies. 
 
 Turning eastward along the low banked river, across 
 the rich prairie, they came to the scattering walnuts, 
 immense trunks, wide tops, not so tall as forest trees 
 in the open, with no struggle for air and light, have less 
 height. Then clumps and detached groves, then the 
 continuous forest. The sight of this succession proces 
 sion of grand trees, any one of many of which would be 
 a wonder in a wood of ordinary trees, filled Edith, who 
 was a tree worshipper, with an ecstasy of amazement. 
 Tall, grand, huge columns, supporting a dome of far up 
 arches of foliage, of brown and golden tints, with solitary 
 huge nuts of yellow tinted green, lying here and there 
 on the clean, bare ground mile upon mile of these, with 
 here and there a maple, a smooth barked beech, a huge 
 tulip tree, or a competing hickory. 
 
 " It reminds you of the lovely woods on the Black 
 River, of two years ago," said the equally pleased 
 Anita. 
 
 " It is impossible to forget that time, and those beauti 
 ful woods. These do not remind me of them, nor this 
 country and river, though both improve. The sunshine 
 and air are like that time, and I like the fragrance of these 
 ripe walnut leaves." 
 
 " And, Edith, may I tell you what I think as you cast 
 your eyes up these big tall trees, that there were then 
 eyes that went up with yours just a little way, and in 
 stantly came down to your face they couldn't help it 
 and rested there, till yours came down and looked into
 
 Flight. 261 
 
 them. Oh, I felt the charm that was working between 
 you two. My sister dreams of the Black River ; " turn 
 ing away with a decided little motion of her head, as to 
 say" Don't tell 1 me." 
 
 " And my sister does she dream of Rock River 
 Valley ? " 
 
 " My sister knows very well one cannot dream of what 
 one Iras never seen," was the naive answer. 
 
 Then they talked of the possible long, long journey 
 Anita shook her head at the idea, entertaining it only con 
 versationally the journey through the interminable forest. 
 It was happiness to be in the woods. No thing discon 
 nected with the charm of young hearts was such a pleas 
 ant theme for talk, and she indulged it to any extent; 
 She said, Tecumseh, Tecumapease, Black-Hawk, Red- 
 Wing, would never go beyond Moravian town, and Edith 
 saw her heart was with them. Both girls, as much as 
 they loved a journey through a forest, secretly drew back 
 from this. Each may have been conscious of the 
 reason. 
 
 Edith's spirit was alway under the influence of a pro 
 found religious sentiment, which never left her in dark 
 ness uncheered, nor in light and joy permitted her ex 
 ultant spirit to forget the spring and source of happiness. 
 Alike in depression and exaltation her heart turned in 
 humility for light and strength, or in gratitude and thank 
 fulness. She had escaped the gloomy clouds and darken 
 ing storm. She was in the lovely woods. Her spirit 
 was in the sunshine ; to her in an unaccountable way, it 
 would extend its wings and soar exultantly ; the sun 
 would have been too radiant, too joyous, streaming 
 through the stained woods, but for this restraining pres-
 
 262 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 ence, which brooded in sweet serenity over her, filling 
 her heart with trust and worship. 
 
 They reached Moravian town on one of the last days 
 of September ; a small neat dwelling was assigned to the 
 girls and a maid, with one or two natives as attendants, 
 only a step from a larger, selected as the temporary resi 
 dence of Mrs. Proctor, her children, nurses, and servants. 
 The village was a lovely place, surrounded by cultivated 
 fields, walled in by the not remote forest, with the 
 Thames, here a beautiful river, deep, with a considerable 
 current, flowing between high banks on its southern 
 side. 
 
 Here Edith was to have some days of serene, restful, 
 religious calm, a renewal of strength, courage, power of 
 endurance. Four or five days, then alarm, battle, blood, 
 loss of all, the seeming end of all.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 PARTING. 
 
 FOR two or three days General Proctor's arrival had 
 been expected, anxiously looked for by wife and 
 children. Toward the evening of the 4th of October, he 
 drove into the village with a single aid, young McLain, 
 a Canadian, attended by an orderly, and they flew to 
 embrace him. He came for a day's rest, the inspiration 
 of their presence, love, and religious trust. The strong, 
 calm wife saw in the worn face, the weary look, the fret 
 and chafe of a spirit easily irritated and put from its 
 poise. Strong, confident, when borne on by the tide of 
 success, its ebb left him helplessly aground. His nature 
 was ignoble, not cruel, not wholly cowardly. When 
 Elliott challenged him for what passed between them at 
 the council of war, ere he abandoned the siege of Camp 
 Meigs, he promptly accepted, and it was only by the 
 united efforts of his officers that a meeting was prevented. 
 He was now simply in a position to which he was 
 unequal. Had he been, the position might not have 
 been precipitated. His wife had long since seen his 
 defects of nature and character. As they appeared, she 
 bravely faced them, and with strength, tact, and prudence, 
 did much to hide them, and save him from the mischiefs 
 they might cause, giving him of her higher nature. 
 Much she had done. She received him now almost a 
 
 263
 
 264 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 ruin. After caresses by his children, whom he rudely 
 pushed aside, she withdrew him to herself for communion. 
 The unexpected that baffling demon of human calcu 
 lation always ambushing the way of mortals, had leaped 
 upon and overwhelmed him. 
 
 He had not expected to be pursued. Who could have 
 supposed an enemy destitute of means of transportation 
 would try to follow him by land ? Had any other general 
 attempted pursuit he would have made his approach by 
 water. This he could have eluded, or at the true point 
 turn upon and crush. He was followed by land and 
 water. Seemingly the entire combined fleet and army 
 of the enemy were hard after him. He had that very 
 morning turned at bay, posted Tecumseh to hold him in 
 check. The chief had done that in a half-hearted way. 
 A battle might be avoided. He might be compelled to 
 fight the next day. He would soon know. His soldiers 
 were already worn and exhausted with their packs and 
 heavy loads---on half rations. The enemy, light and free 
 marched two miles to their one. Who could have 
 expected such energy ? What had the Americans to hope 
 for, by rushing after him, away from their base, into 
 those interminable wilds ? So he ran on, enlarging, 
 repeating, reiterating, weakly and querulously railing at 
 fortune, at the unfortunate Barclay, the untowardness of 
 happenings he did nothing to prevent, and the enterprise 
 of an enemy he affected to despise. 
 
 Instead of treating him with the contempt he deserved 
 the large souled woman drew his unheroic head to her 
 own heroic bosom, soothed his chafed spirit, fed the 
 shrivelled sources of courage, and awoke something of 
 the dogged pluck seldom absent from the least favored 
 native of the island of his birth.
 
 Parting. 265 
 
 At a little supper the general met Edith and Anita. 
 The manner of Miss Grayson had greatly changed since 
 she met him two hours before. The lovely, pensive 
 nun-like maiden was now the aroused, high-spirited, heroic 
 woman, erect, with flashing eyes and firm aspect. A 
 woman to inspire men to heroic endeavor lead them, if 
 need be. Anita's face and eyes had the half wild, eager 
 flush of expectant battle. An hour with those three 
 women and Proctor was a hero. Then he retired for 
 greatly needed rest. A little past midnight came another 
 aid with a guard. He brought a summons to battle. 
 
 Colonel Warburton had set the soldiers in array, face 
 to the foe, a short three miles below, and General Tecum- 
 seh had posted his warriors. They awaited the general 
 day, and the enemy. 
 
 Edith caught the word and arose, strong, brave and 
 confident, as did Mrs. Proctor. She would let the 
 children sleep. It was best for the father. To part 
 with them on the eve of battle might shake his nerves ; a 
 little time was required to get his carriage ready. 
 
 " By George ! " he said, looking into the eyes of the 
 firm, calm Edith, glowing with her awakened spirit. " I 
 wish Warburton, and Home, and all the boys were here, 
 to light up from your eyes ; you have spirit enough for a 
 dozen." 
 
 " You don't need it, General," she said, with a glance 
 at the noble wife. " Take my spirit for the soldiers, who 
 are to stand in the line, receive and give the wounds." 
 Her voice was low, but it had the timbre of battle. 
 
 " By George, I will ! They shall hear those words." 
 
 Then he was called, and went out without leave-taking. 
 The air had changed, was chill and raw, with a north 
 wind soughing through the trees. He emerged into the
 
 266 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 black, unbroken night, calm and brave. The chill wind 
 smote him as from an open tomb. He looked up for the 
 calm, assuring stars in vain. The sky was dark. He 
 was one to be moved by things from without. A chill 
 which he could not resist, ran through his veins ; a rigor 
 laid its hand on his spirit. His aid there awaited him. 
 
 Anita had meantime approached the young officer, 
 well known to her. She placed a small parcel in his 
 hand, and whispered : 
 
 "Give this to Red- Wing; say Anita," and vanished. 
 It contained the mate of the gift from Dudley. 
 
 The two officers entered the carriage and were driven 
 away, followed by the orderly, leading the general's 
 favorite charger, which had been for some days at the 
 Indian village.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 ANITA'S GIFT. 
 
 THE instances of record are rare where an army with 
 time to start and means of removal, was brought 
 unwillingly to battle by an enemy pursuing on the line 
 of retreat. Proctor had this in mind. His ill star 
 ordered his case to be an exception to the rule. 
 
 He had seven to eight hundred well trained soldiers, 
 what there was left of the militia, and a small body of 
 well mounted provincial cavalry, and he had at least a 
 thousand horses. 
 
 Tecumseh commanded about fifteen hundred warriors, 
 the best trained, the flower of more than twice that 
 number who followed the British standard in July before. 
 These in Indian warfare were fairly a match for two 
 thousand soldiers. 
 
 Whoever would now attempt a clear detailed narrative 
 of the once famous retreat of Proctor, and pursuit by 
 Harrison, will be troubled to find the means ; not from 
 scarcity of material so much as from the contrariety of 
 statement. 
 
 All the persons named in my opening chapters, and 
 most of those who came into the current of my narrative 
 later, were present at the impending catastrophe, or in 
 the immediate neighborhood of its scene. 
 
 That occurred past noon of the 5th of October (not 
 267
 
 268 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 early in the morning), on the north side of the Thames, 
 some three miles west of Moravian town, and about 
 thirteen east of Dalson's. The retreat was along the 
 north bank. The pursuit along the south until near noon 
 of the 4th. 
 
 At Drake's farm the American vessels and gunboats, 
 commanded by Perry, were left, and he became an aid 
 to General Harrison. Above that point, at Arnold's 
 mill, at the foot of the rapids, the river was fordable for 
 horses, and here Harrison, with the aid of Colonel John 
 son's horses, crossed his army in the forenoon of the 4th, 
 and pursued in the direct track of the enemy. 
 
 We must turn back and gather up a few details in the 
 order of time, to place everything within the easy grasp 
 of the reader who may care to know. 
 
 Proctor, as stated, had not dreamed of pursuit by land. 
 He made his first considerable halt at Dalson's. To this 
 point he destroyed no bridge, on either side of the 
 Thames, though there were several, otherwise impassable 
 tributary streams. 
 
 At Dalson's he became aware of land pursuit, and sent 
 out parties to break down the bridges. This action 
 advised his enemy that he knew he was pursued. 
 
 Tecumseh, who understood the intrepid character of his 
 old enemy, Harrison, expected this pursuit, and himself 
 discovered it. With the flash of battle in his eyes, he 
 sought Proctor, to select the ground and prepare for the 
 impending conflict. At last he was to meet this foe in 
 something like a fair battle ; for nothing had he so longed 
 since Tippecanoe. He reminded Proctor of his promise 
 and demanded its fulfilment. To this the general readily 
 assented. They selected Gregory's Creek, a little beyond 
 Dalson's, near Chatham ; an unfordable stream, which with
 
 Anitas Gift. 269 
 
 other favorable conditions was said to be the strongest 
 position for their force on that side of the river. Proctor 
 was entirely satisfied with it, and he declared, 
 
 " Here will I defeat the Americans, or leave my bones 
 on this ground." 
 
 " My father makes my heart glad, " replied the chief. 
 "When I look at these two streams, I see the Tippecanoe 
 running into the Wabash," he added, a little sadly, as the 
 past flashed back on his mind.* 
 
 Away he hurried to place his warriors in array. Away 
 went Proctor to put his immediate command on the march, 
 continuing his retreat. Then he commenced the destruc 
 tion of the bridges, the burning and abandonment of 
 his vessels, ordnance, and property, never taken from 
 Maiden had he expected pursuit or intended to fight a 
 pitched battle. 
 
 He expected Tecumseh would fight with his old skill 
 and gallantry, and hold the enemy until he could escape 
 with his soldiers. The chief saw he was betrayed. He 
 would not fall into this trap. He lost a few warriors, 
 drew skilfully off, and retired also. 
 
 With his angry chiefs he then sought Proctor, and to his 
 face denounced his treachery and cowardice. Grayson 
 was present. Walk-in-the-Water denounced him for his 
 speech in the council at Maiden as a piece of intended 
 deception, and reminded him of his promises on the 
 Huron, every one of which had been broken. He 
 announced his intention of going with his warriors over 
 to the Americans, saying Harrison had never told them 
 lies. His personal following was sixty effective braves. 
 
 Proctor called on Tecumseh to arrest and punish the 
 Wyandot. The chief told him his own conduct released 
 
 *Drake's " Life of Tecumseh."
 
 270 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 his brother from all obligation to remain, and further 
 follow him to disgrace and ruin. He and his warriors 
 might go in peace, and they went. 
 
 From this interview, Proctor pushed forward to meet 
 his family at Moravian Town, as related, leaving Warbur- 
 ton in command. 
 
 It is asserted by Canadians and Englishmen that from 
 the abandoned position Warburton marched all night, 
 was met at daylight by Proctor, who halted the fatigued 
 soldiers, placed them in array, and that they fought early 
 in the morning, with no food save the scraps and crusts 
 in their haversacks; and thus convicting their officers 
 of incompetency, to excuse the want of their native 
 pluck, shown by the men of the 41 st, during that day. 
 
 The position of the British and their allies was 
 selected with skill, and the forces posted at leisure while 
 Harrison was miles away. At that point the bank of the 
 river is high ; the current deep and rapid. Parallel with 
 the bank, and three hundred yards distant, was the south 
 margin of a cedar swamp of considerable breadth, of 
 yielding surface, much of it under water and extending 
 down the river for two or three miles. At 200 yards 
 from the river was an intervening narrow swamp of 
 considerable length, and thirty or forty yards' wide, pas 
 sable, but obstructing, which ran to a point eastward. 
 Here the regulars were drawn up in two lines, with 
 several yards interval, and in open order, the left resting 
 on the river, their right on the large swamp. The 
 artillery was on the left, to sweep the river road. 
 The cavalry were posted in the rear. The line crossed the 
 lower end of the narrow swamp, and was interrupted by it, 
 no men standing in it. The ground otherwise, and for 
 miles along the river, was covered with the open wood
 
 Anitas Gift. 271 
 
 described, free from underbrush save in the smaller 
 swamp, and with nothing to embarrass the enemy's ap 
 proach. Though there was ample time and implements 
 at hand, no abatis, none of the means of defence re 
 sorted to on both sides by infantry, in our later war, 
 seem to have occurred to the British, though having many 
 years experience in the American forests. 
 
 Tecumseh posted his warriors along the margin of the 
 swamp, skilfully for such troops, forming a slightly 
 obtuse angle with the British right, and his own left. 
 This position would effectively protect the right of the 
 regulars, if attacked, as it must be, by the enemy. He 
 had in his line about fifteen hundred warriors. His post 
 was on his own left, where the fiercest struggle would 
 be. He knew Proctor was absent, did not expect or care 
 for his presence. 
 
 Warburton knew a battle was inevitable. He sought 
 with the concurrence of the chief, the best ground ; when 
 he found it, he made his dispositions, sent for his 
 general, and awaited the enemy's advance. He con 
 structed no defensive works, placed no skirmish line in 
 advance, no picket or outpost of any kind. He seems 
 to have used no means to detect his enemy's approach. 
 Proctor on his arrival made no change. His station was 
 in the rear of the point of the small swamp mentioned. 
 
 Learning the arrival of General Proctor, Tecumseh, 
 the magnanimous 9hief, waited on him, and greeted 
 him in his grave way, cordially. His own presence, full 
 of high courage, confidence, and the will and purpose to 
 conquer, was a tonic to the general and his officers ; 
 dignified, yet alert, every fibre showing him a great 
 leader, on the eve of battle. Their interview was brief
 
 272 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 and satisfactory. Proctor told the chief he was there to 
 keep his word of yesterday. 
 
 " My brother sees my soldiers with their faces toward 
 the Americans," he added. " I stand or fall here with 
 them. When my brother hears the voices of my great 
 guns, that will tell him to attack." 
 
 " My brother's words are good. They make my heart 
 glad," replied the chief, and he returned to his own 
 troops. 
 
 Much was expected from this powerful attack of Te- 
 cumseh upon the enemy's left flank. On his return he 
 passed through the British right, was recognized and 
 cheered by the soldiers, their only demonstration of this 
 kind heard that day. 
 
 McLain accompanied him to execute the mission of 
 Anita. In a group of youths, one of whom was Tecum- 
 seh's son, at a look of the chief, a tall, slender, handsome 
 young chief arrayed in full war colors, otherwise reduced 
 to battle costume, bearing the native insignia of com 
 mand, stepped forward. As he approached, Tecumseh 
 said : " Red-Wing," with a gesture toward the officer, 
 and proceeded on his way down his line. 
 
 McLain had seldom seen so fine a specimen of the 
 young brave as he who now advanced to meet him. He 
 produced the little parcel of pink silk and extended it to 
 the chief, with the single word " Ah-ni-tah," in the 
 native accent. 
 
 The youth's eyes flashed with pleasure. He re 
 ceived it eagerly, opened the envelope, took from it the 
 quaintly wrought trinket, gazed at it with a proud and 
 happy smile, rather grim under his war-paint. He 
 removed a small jewel from one of his ears, and replaced 
 it with the maiden's gift. The other he gave the officer,
 
 Anitas Gift. 273 
 
 speaking softly the very magic name " Ah-ni-tah." In 
 the youth's presence McLain enveloped it carefully in 
 paper, deposited it in a small pocket-book, with an 
 assuring motion of the head that it should be faithfully 
 delivered. Red-Wing noted everything approvingly, 
 uttering soft gutterals, which the envoy translated 
 "good-good." The chief then turned back, covering 
 Anita's gift tenderly with his hand, moving away from 
 his observing companions, as if it was too precious and 
 sacred for their profaning eyes. 
 
 Tecumseh went down his line, giving last orders, in 
 structions, encouragements, and exhortations. His saga 
 cious mind had pretty accurately grasped the ultimate 
 fortune of his people, whatever might be the result of 
 the impending battle. On his return to his post he 
 called his principal chiefs around him, and addressed 
 them as follows : 
 
 " Brother warriors ! We are about to enter into a battle 
 from which I shall never come out. My body will 
 remain on the battle-field." 
 
 He then unbuckled his sword, placed it in the hands 
 of one he greatly trusted, and said : " When my son be 
 comes a noted warrior, and able to wield it, give him 
 this sword." He then laid aside his general's coat and 
 insignia of army rank, leaving himself standing in simple 
 hunting shirt, leggings and moccasins, without paint or 
 ornament. In addition to his native weapons, rifle, toma 
 hawk and knife, he wore in a belt a brace of beautifully 
 mounted pistols, of that time. Thus dressed and 
 armed, he assumed his place a little in advance of his 
 line, to await the signal gun, which was never fired.* 
 
 Drake's "Life of Tecumseh." 
 18
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE ONSET. 
 
 HARRISON did not linger at Maiden. He had 
 little hope of overtaking Proctor. His thorough 
 demolition of property showed that he did not intend 
 to fight for a chance of resuming possession of the dis 
 mantled position. He sent forward the ships and light 
 draft vessels, left General McArthur and a strong force 
 at Detroit, and another general at Sandwich, with a force. 
 Here he learned that Proctor had halted at Dalson's, and 
 taking about 3500 of all arms, he pushed hard after him. 
 Notwithstanding Armstrong would raise a force of 
 regulars exclusively, with the exception of 150 of that 
 branch of the service, his troops v/ere militia, with the 
 training received at home. 
 
 It included Colonel R. M. Johnson's famous regiment 
 of mounted infantry, 1200 strong ; 200 were called spies, 
 armed with rifles, always in advance. The rest had rifles 
 or muskets, a weapon as effective for the average man on 
 horseback. Each man owned the horse he rode. They 
 had been in service a year or more, and man and horse 
 were trained to effective service in the woods and wild 
 forays of the border. The arrival of this body at Detroit 
 enabled Harrison to secure mounts for his field officers. 
 He had with him also the famous Black-Hoof, the great 
 est of the Wyandots, who in his youth fought Braddock, 
 as he had since everywhere fought the Americans, until 
 
 274
 
 The Onset. 275 
 
 now. Black-Hoof had under him 150 Wyandots and 
 Seneca warriors at Sandwich. Harrison stripped his 
 soldiers to the lightest marching form, their arms and 
 ammunition, and they made twenty-seven miles the first 
 day ; at Baptist Creek, near the mouth of the Thames, a 
 deep, troublesome stream, crossed by Proctor, he found 
 the bridge untouched, a most encouraging sign of the 
 confidence and carelessness of the British officers. He 
 left a strong guard there. He turned up the south side 
 of the river for the best of reasons. 
 
 At Dalson's he knew he should overtake Proctor. He 
 knew very soon also that the Englishmen knew of his 
 pursuit. He pushed Johnson forward with a party to 
 secure the bridges. Tecumseh's stand did not delay him 
 long. At Chatham he had an interview with Walk-in- 
 the-Water, who wanted to join him. He curtly told him 
 to go back to Detroit and in the meantime keep clear 
 of his army. 
 
 The chief found his old friend Black-Hoof more sym 
 pathetic. Their warriors were brothers, cousins, friends, 
 and he received him and a third or so of his band, which 
 for the clay did not come to Harrison's or Dudley's notice. 
 
 The Americans came upon abandoned vessels, burning 
 stores and bridges, which he had to fight for, from this 
 point. The distance was not great, nor the time long. 
 He left his own vessels at Drake's, and crossed the river 
 at Arnold's, as stated, a little before noon of this, the 5th 
 day of October. After crossing, they came upon the last 
 bivouac of the enemy, where their fires were still burning. 
 
 Johnson dashed forward and captured a wagoner who 
 told him the British army in line of battle, awaited them 
 a half mile in advance. 
 
 At last, the account of blood between Kentucky and
 
 276 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 Proctor for Frenchtown, and Fort Miami, would be 
 adjusted. The American made a rapid disposition of 
 his force for immediate action. A selected body of 
 infantry were to advance, and charge the British line, 
 supported by Johnson's mounted men, which still held 
 the advance. The regulars, 120 strong, were to carry the 
 artillery. Black-Hoof's Indians were to steal up under 
 the bank of the river, gain the British rear, raise the war- 
 whoop and attack, to create in the minds of the soldiers 
 the impression that their Indians had turned against 
 them. Shelby and Desha's brigades were to be opposed 
 to Tecumseh. With this plan the army advanced, John 
 son's mounted men still in the lead, divided in two columns, 
 the right under Colonel R. M. Johnson's brother, Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel James Johnson, and the left led by the 
 colonel. The movement was along the road near the 
 bank. 
 
 Meantime Carter, who had been ordered by Dudley to 
 scout ahead, discovered not only the position of the British, 
 but their formation, the Indian line of battle, and the 
 post of Tecumseh in his own line. On his way back he 
 met Major Dudley and Major Wood of the engineers, 
 who had hurried forward to ascertain the exact position 
 of the enemy. He told them everything they could have 
 ascertained, and they turned back to inform the general. 
 Carter accompanied them part of the way, and described 
 the small swamp in front of Proctor's line, and in answer 
 to Dudley, said, the ground otherwise was open and free 
 from fallen timber and underbrush. Dudley said the 
 way to deal with the British was to send Johnson to ride 
 through and over them. That regulars in this order, 
 accustomed to touch at the shoulders, would present but 
 a feeble resistance. Wood was so impressed that he said
 
 The Onset. 277 
 
 he should bring it to General Harrison's notice, which he 
 did on the conclusion of their report. 
 
 " Dudley says Johnson's mounted men would make 
 short work of them. I confess, General, I am greatly 
 struck by it." 
 
 " Is that your idea, Major?" asked Harrison of Dudley. 
 
 " Most decidedly, " said the young officer. " When 
 he passes their second line, he will deploy right and left, 
 wheel and deliver his fire." 
 
 The eyes of Harrison flashed from one to the other. 
 "It is a novel idea," he said. 
 
 " The position to be assailed is novel. They will be 
 surprised and can really offer no resistance if the heads 
 of the column can be held steady as they certainly will 
 be. The guides are picked men," was Dudley's reply. 
 
 " I will do it, Major Dudley ; order Colonel Johnson 
 to charge the enemy in his front," he said crisply. 
 
 " I have your permission to lead, or accompany 
 General?" 
 
 " Go," said the general. 
 
 Dudley had secured a fine mount from the Kentuck- 
 ians, and was instantly in his saddle. 
 
 "I am not certain as I should have permitted him to 
 go," said the general, reflectively. " He is in the mood 
 to be reckless, and has been ever since the Meigs days." 
 
 " The plan was his ; let him see to its execution. No 
 man handles soldiers better," said Wood in answer. 
 
 " Reckless ! Good Lord, a man must have his 
 chance ! " said Perry, smiling at the idea of reckoning 
 the danger. 
 
 None knew better than the general that the tug of war 
 would be with Tecumseh. His thought was to first dis 
 pose of Proctor and his soldiers and then attack the
 
 278 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 Indians. His plan for the Indians was admirable. The 
 veteran Shelby, and Desha, were placed in position to 
 engage and hold them, so that Johnson's flank would be 
 free. Then they should be developed and overwhelmed 
 in turn, by all his force. 
 
 Colonel Johnson's mounted men stood as stated in two 
 equal columns. Lieutenant Colonel James split his 
 column into four, of two files each, his spies in advance, 
 himself seconded by Major Payne; the left column under 
 Colonel R. M. consisted of two, of four files each, the 
 right led by himself, the left by Dudley, each at the head 
 of the spies. 
 
 On approaching the enemy, it was found that Colonel 
 James would require quite all the space between the 
 small swamp and river to give him the needed room for 
 action. 
 
 " Let us charge the Indians ! " called Colonel R. M. to 
 Dudley. 
 
 "Agreed!" was the response. He had already ex 
 plained to the colonel the personal position of Tecumseh. 
 He would still have answered as he did, notwithstanding 
 he graduated second of his class. His general under 
 stood his mood perfectly. 
 
 "We will drive straight on Tecumseh," called the 
 colonel. 
 
 " Agreed ! " answered back the major again. 
 
 This was the final crisis. No personal considerations 
 could then be taken account of. Tecumseh must also 
 take his chance. 
 
 As the head of the colonel's column wheeled to the 
 left "Look out! " shouted Carter. "Look out, Major ! 
 'E can pass the little swamp. 'E can't charge in't the 
 big un, an git out again ! "
 
 The Onset. 279 
 
 If heard he was unheeded. The horses would take 
 them speedily into battle anyway. What did a Ken- 
 tuckian care for Indians in the woods ! The heads de 
 flected to -the left. They passed the small swamp with 
 out serious delay, gained the hard ground the other side. 
 The bugle sounded and away they went. 
 
 Colonel James had less distance to go than had his 
 brother, to the point of impact. We will charge with 
 him. 
 
 Has the reader ever heard an elk, a buffalo, a wild 
 bullock, leaping and plunging over hard ground? He 
 has certainly heard a horse run, and knows he can be 
 heard at a considerable distance. Let him fancy twelve 
 hundred of the large bony Kentucky horses, her lime- 
 rock makes everything large and bony, weighing ten, 
 twelve, or thirteen hundred pounds, each bearing a man 
 averaging 160, going at full speed yet held in a body, and 
 he may form some conception of the smiting roar of the 
 charging Kentuckians. A cavalry charge is effective 
 from mere weight and velocity, without, as with, arms. 
 
 When the heads of Colonel James' columns burst on 
 the eyes of the startled British, who could then under 
 stand the cause of the mighty uproar, as if it were the 
 simultaneous crashing and falling of the forest itse*lf a 
 heavy volley greeted the advancing Kentuckians. The 
 leading horses recoiled, an instant's wavering was over 
 come, and six hundred practised throats gave forth the 
 warwhoop, and on they plunged over the level ground, 
 among the wide apart trees, with the sweep and roar of a 
 low down storm cloud kissing the earth with thunder. 
 The seventy-five intervening yards were devoured as by 
 a hurricane. "River Raisin /" " River Raisin /" " French-
 
 280 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 town ! " " Frenehtown / " they shouted, with eyes aflame, 
 and faces aglow. 
 
 Sir Colin Campbell, with his slender thread of red, 
 repulsed a rushing cavalry charge at Alma. But what 
 could any men do four feet apart, against these wild 
 riding Kentuckians, away here in the woods ? Whoever 
 heard of such a way of attack before ? Through and 
 over the first line of dodging, thrusting soldiers they ran, 
 never pausing still shouting their vengeful cry, flashing in 
 a torrent across the intervening space, taking the ineffec 
 tive rattle-fire of the second line, sending the thunder of 
 their coming, the swell and roar of their shouts and 
 plunging steeds to the not far off Proctor. They passed 
 this line and wheeling, two columns to the right, two to 
 the left, riding along the rear of what once was a mili 
 tary formation, brushing aside the captains and lieu 
 tenants as wooden toys, they turned and emptied their 
 six hundred rifles and muskets among the now mixed, 
 broken, and lost soldiers, retaining no rudiment of order. 
 The power of defence, resistance, as a body, was at an 
 end. These assailing men were not raw volunteers, but 
 trained men and horses. The instant the fire was deliv 
 ered, the horse became a statue, his rider could as well 
 recharge his gun on his back as on the ground, and now 
 save the rattling of their arms, while this was simultane 
 ously performed, no sound from them was heard. An in 
 stant the smallest fraction of a minute and they were 
 ready. Each man would sight a man now. That bit of 
 time crystallized the Englishmen's sense of their helpless 
 condition. 
 
 " We surrender ! " shouted some of the officers along 
 the broken lines, and down went the useless muskets, 
 simultaneously, and up went the depressed muzzles of
 
 The Onset. 281 
 
 the Kentuckians, ere a trigger was drawn. Not a man 
 fired. 
 
 Not thus fared Colonel R. M.'s column. We saw them 
 successfully pass the small swamp, re-form, and dash 
 forward through the open, a counterpart of the charge of 
 their comrades, and at nearly the same time. Passing 
 within sight of the infantry of Desha and Shelby, advanc 
 ing to attack and hold the Indians in check, who re 
 mained silent, awaiting the expected signal gun from 
 Proctor. On they went, north-easterly, plunging in the 
 supposed direction of Tecumseh's post. Then they gave 
 voice, whooping and yelling like madmen ; they ap 
 proached the margin of the swamp, no Indian answering 
 yell, no warriors in sight. All at once from the low mar 
 gin of green below them, a volley as nearly as Indians ever 
 so fire, close, withering, running west along their line, 
 and then their yell, wild, fierce, prolonged, startlingly 
 cadenced, the real thing in tone and effect, inimitable by 
 white men save in exceptional instances. The soul of 
 wildness, savage hate and fury, it was yet with something 
 plaintive, coming from the Indian heart. The forlorn ad 
 vance of spies was for an instant withered by the fire. 
 The colonel on the right went down at the first shots, 
 receiving four wounds. Major Dudley on the left went 
 down also, his horse receiving a missile. 
 
 The Indian fire and yell brought Desha and Shelby 
 hurrying into battle. Dudley was on his feet instantly. 
 "Halt! Dismount !" he shouted. The trumpeter, un 
 hurt, sent it sharply stabbing through the thickening con 
 fusion. Everything was revealed to him amid the shots, 
 the yells, that filled the forest. The horses turned back, 
 the riders cool, alert, expert woodsmen, and in Indian 
 tactics stole forward with their loaded guns, covered by
 
 282 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 the old trees, firing at the lower lying Indians only when 
 they were seen. 
 
 The Indian position, just within the margin of an 
 impassable morass, whose greenery veiled them and 
 which would have been fatal to regular soldiers, was to 
 them a source of strength. They would be overshot, the 
 bayonet could not reach them. If the fire became too 
 heavy and scorching, they could retire through the 
 swamp itself, as so many lightly leaping foxes, whom the 
 enemy could not follow. 
 
 A half minute of confusion, of wheeling, and retiring 
 the unridden horses, and the battle equalized itself along 
 the swamp's irregular margin. These splendid forest 
 rangers of the dark and bloody ground, who in boyhood 
 defended their tree-sheltered cabins, with their mothers 
 and elder sisters, against savage foray, while the fathers 
 and older brothers were away on an expedition to raise 
 the siege of leaguered fort, or defending themselves in 
 lightly built stockades, were at home here, with their 
 rifles, in the woods, the hated painted Indian confronting 
 them, and the appalling long drawn yells only quickened 
 their blood. They were born and reared to this form of 
 war. 
 
 Already the battle with Proctor was over. Already 
 Desha and Shelby's infantry had joined battle down the 
 line on their left. Better armed and as skilled as the 
 average Indian, and well posted, though pitted against 
 their best, under the eye and voice of their greatest 
 leader, and more numerous at this point, the battle here 
 raged at short range with fury for fifteen or twenty min 
 utes. There was no general rush of the Indians. There 
 were many individual hand to hand duels. The natives 
 did their best execution here, and were severely punished.
 
 The Onset. 283 
 
 As was their wont their fallen were snatched away mys 
 teriously, many of them. Heavily assaulted, sustaining 
 the weight of the American army save those of the 
 mounted who attacked the British, the battle was against 
 the Indians, comparatively invisible and inaccessible 
 though they were. 
 
 On his right front, as he struggled to his feet, Dudley 
 heard a clear ringing, far reaching voice, in the tone and 
 accent of command. He had heard the same voice in 
 the same accents in the wood on the British bank of the 
 Maumee. Whoever had heard it would never mistake it. 
 The voice of Tecumseh, steadily maintaining his war 
 where the battle raged the fiercest. Several times it 
 reached him, while the battle was yet uncertain. Then 
 it ceased. 
 
 He heard it no more. The battle at that point grew 
 faint, subsided almost suddenly, along Dudley's imme 
 diate front. The Indians melted away, stole out of the 
 unavailing struggle. A moment before the green margin 
 was full of yells, gunshots, stirring, leaping, flashing, 
 disappearing painted forms, plunging forward to snatch 
 a scalp and vanishing, perhaps shot down. Then they 
 ceased, were not, faded like phantoms, and silence fell 
 where late they fought. To the left the battle continued, 
 and thither the dismounted Kentuckians drifted, or 
 turned back to look after their horses, support a wounded 
 comrade, or have a hurt looked to by the surgeon. The 
 hospital was a settler's house below. Some of the 
 surgeons were on the river's bank of the battle-field, near 
 the post of Harrison and his staff. Thither many were 
 carried in the first instance. Very soon the scene of 
 the severest passages of the battle was left vacant and 
 silent. None but the dead, and apparently but a single 
 one of the living combatants, remained upon it.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 CARTER'S SPEECH OVER TECUMSEH. 
 
 DUDLEY lingered there alone. His purpose was 
 to ascertain, if possible, the fate of the great 
 chief, who had so singularly influenced, and once or twice 
 controlled, his own fortunes for the time. He was im 
 pressed that when the battle was at its fiercest, Tecumseh 
 had fallen, and that something like a panic had come 
 upon his immediate followers, who at once ceased their 
 efforts. If this was the solution of the sudden subsid 
 ence of their efforts, they may have left his body on the 
 field. He moved toward the point where he last heard 
 his war cry, just in advance of the swamp's margin, where 
 the trees stood thick. 
 
 " 'E's furder this way," called Carter to him, who 
 unnoticed had stolen near, motioning with his hand to 
 Dudley's right. 
 
 "He? Who? Tecumseh?" 
 
 " 'E's done fer," said Carter sadly. 
 
 "Killed?" 
 
 " Dyin'," was the laconic reply. 
 
 A few yards farther, and just below the upper margin 
 of the declivity, and a little back, as if withdrawn from 
 the notice of his followers, Tecumseh had fallen. 
 
 " It is too pesky bad," Carter said, sadly, pointing to 
 him where he lay. 
 
 Dudley found him ghastly and silent. Sadly he bent 
 284
 
 Carter 's Speech Over Tecumseh. 285 
 
 over him. He had been wounded in front, the blood still 
 stealing from the hurt. His eyes were open, with signs 
 of fading consciousness in the face. The gaze was far 
 away. The fire of battle had faded from the dimming 
 half-closed orbs, over which the invisible shadow was 
 darkening. 
 
 He noticed Dudley, a smile played about the pale lips. 
 The youth wore his restored gift that day. He placed it 
 in the fading vision of the dying chief. Tecumseh roused 
 a little with a movement of his brow, a turn of the eyes as 
 if toward the swamp. 
 
 " Your warriors you would have me call them ? " A 
 smile almost of joy was the answer. 
 
 " Stand here by him," said Dudley to Carter. " Let 
 nothing disturb him." He picked up a lost gun rod, at 
 tached his white handkerchief to its screw end, and started 
 to pentrate the high ferns and greenery of the swamp. 
 As he did so, Carter raised a low, peculiar note, which 
 rising and increasing was prolonged. It was instantly 
 answered from the near distance. 
 
 " There they air," said the old hunter. A few steps 
 and Dudley gained a bit of hard land running into the 
 swamp's depths. Here he waved his little flag of peace, 
 and almost instantly his name " Dudley " was spoken 
 from his right and near. He saw no one, but answered, 
 " I am Dudley." The greenery parted, two or three 
 painted forms appeared but a few yards distant. One of 
 them he recognized as one of the young warriors whom 
 he met the day of his escape from Detroit. They were 
 both there. 
 
 " I am Dudley," he repeated. " I will give Tecumseh 
 to his children," turning as if to go back. 
 
 He was understood. The youths stepped forward, ac-
 
 286 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 companied by a tall handsome young chief, and one or 
 two older warriors. Evidently not the whole of their 
 party. As they approached Dudley, one of the youths, 
 touching the tall young warrior, said " Red-Wing," a 
 name then new to him. Silently he conducted them 
 back, pushed aside the high fronds, disclosing the prone 
 form, and Carter standing over it, sadly leaning on his 
 rifle, not more than three yards distant. 
 
 They were prepared for the sight. Prepared to bear 
 hence the mighty form. Mutely the sad warriors stole to 
 his side, bent over him. He seemed to know them even 
 then, and a look it may have been Dudley's fancy of 
 satisfaction stole over the placid face. 
 
 Two other slain warriors lay near the chief. One 
 was of the noblest stature and finest form, cinctured about 
 the loin, from which the trunk and limbs downward were 
 showily clothed in the weeds of a native dandy ; painted 
 from the girdle upward in war colors, otherwise unclothed. 
 The warriors with scarce a look turned from this to the 
 third, whom Dudley now learned was his benefactor Wase- 
 goboah. They lingered tenderly about it, and then 
 turned to the great chief. He was raised with care, and 
 blankets passed under him. As they were about to bear 
 him hence, Dudley placed the decoration of the Queen 
 on his breast, with his fingers he tenderly pressed 
 down the now useless lids, and bent reverently over the 
 regal brow, never more kingly than now, pressed it with 
 his hand, and the dead chief was borne away. 
 
 Within a minute, one of the youths, with a band of war 
 riors, returned, and in the same way carried the remains 
 of his brother-in-law, who fought and fell by his side. 
 
 They did not return for the third, which was left to be 
 claimed, disputed about, and I fear disfigured, by those
 
 Carter's Speech Over Tecumseh. 287 
 
 who believed it to be the body of the great Shawanoe 
 who fell the fourth of an hour after his reputed slayer, 
 Johnson, had tottered to the rear, supported by a friend, 
 to seek a surgeon for his wounds. 
 
 The warriors did not return. The two Americans 
 stood looking sadly in their direction for a half minute, 
 and turned away. 
 
 " It is too pesky bad," repeated the old hunter. Had 
 he ever heard of Walter Scott he might have quoted his 
 grim Moss-trooping knight : 
 
 " I'd give the lands of Delorain, 
 Dark Musgrove were alive again." 
 
 They moved over the ground, torn and trampled by 
 the plunging, halting, wheeling horses, with the bodies of 
 four or five of their late riders, stark and dead, prone as 
 they fell, and here and there a horse, one of which was 
 Dudley's own. The smoke and vapors of the battle hung 
 low in the damp air of the woods, through which came the 
 warm rays of the declining sun, and which to Dudley's 
 ears seemed still haunted with the [dying echoes of the 
 shots, shouts and yells of battle. 
 
 He at once took his way with rapid strides to the sta 
 tion of his general, who stood receiving the hasty verbal 
 reports of the different commanders. Ere he gained his 
 presence he met an orderly in search of him. Rumor had 
 in some way reached his chief that he was missing. Men 
 contradicted the first statement that he was slain, as 
 he had been seen and heard at the closing of the battle 
 about him.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE MESSENGER TO EDITH. 
 
 HE found his general animated, yet calm and 
 business-like, as if receiving unusually numerous 
 morning reports, gathering information, verbally given, 
 answering questions, issuing orders with the cool clear 
 headed dispatch for which he was distinguished an 
 accurate man of affairs, the details of which were never 
 left to accident. As he approached he was greeted with 
 a gratified look and pleasant smile. He gestured the 
 youth to a group of British officers a little apart, saying, 
 "A gentleman has a matter of importance to you, 
 personally. Take time for it." Warburton, with three or 
 four officers, had made formal submission, were permitted 
 to retain their swords, and were awaiting the leisure of 
 the victor, for any directions he might give them. 
 
 Dudley knew him, advanced and gave him his hand as 
 if nothing special had occurred. 
 
 " You know Mr. Edward Grayson, Major Dudley ? ' 
 said Warburton. 
 
 " Yes. What of him ? " a little startled. 
 
 " The casualties of battle reached him. He is danger 
 ously wounded." 
 
 " Wounded ! Was he under fire ? " 
 
 " It would seem so. He was in our rear, not far 
 from General Proctor's position. They retired early. 
 Your, or our Indians ours lately, I fear gained our rear. 
 288
 
 The Messenger to Edith. 289 
 
 The fight with us was over. Grayson was approached 
 and deliberately shot down, by Walk-in-the-Water, we 
 think." 
 
 "Walk-in-the-Water! We met him yesterday. He 
 wanted to join us. General Harrison refused to take 
 him and told him to keep clear of us." 
 
 " We are certain it was he. He had a grudge against 
 Mr. Grayson, the most upright and honorable officer." 
 
 " Did the Indian escape ? " 
 
 " There was no one to deal with him. What can you 
 do with an Indian, with the warwhoop in his ears ! The 
 unfortunate man asks for you, is importunate to see 
 you." 
 
 " Take me to him at once, Colonel if I may ask 
 it." 
 
 On the way to him " His daughter is with Mrs. 
 Proctor, at the Moravian town," said McLain, to whom 
 the colonel had introduced him. 
 
 " Gracious Father ! These two, Edith, and her father ! 
 He dying, perhaps ! The British army destroyed, cap 
 tured." Brokenly these things came to the young man's 
 mind. 
 
 " Our surgeon says the wound is mortal," said McLain. 
 " He may not rally from the shock." 
 
 Under an old tree, on a camp mattress, they found him. 
 Way was made for the American officer at his side. The 
 youth knelt by the fallen man's couch, took his hand in 
 both his own, and bent over his face. The dying man's 
 eyes lighted, a slight assuring pressure met the clasp 
 ing hand. 
 
 " Cliffton Dudley, son of Philip," murmured Mr. 
 Grayson. 
 19
 
 290 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 11 What would you from me ? " tenderly and greatly 
 moved. 
 
 " Edith ? " with an anxious look into the eyes near 
 his own. 
 
 " What of her ? " asked the young officer. 
 
 The answer was a mute appealing look, which the 
 youth understood. 
 
 " I told her how I regarded her," he said in reply to 
 it. 
 
 An exquisite smile came into the wan face, about the 
 lips and eyes. 
 
 " You are her all, lover, husband, father, kindred," he 
 murmured, closing his eyes, as if he was naught. From 
 the shut lids tears were now distilling. For a half 
 minute the bystanders thought he had closed them 
 finally. The surgeon placed a little brandy at his lips, 
 raising his head. He sipped it, opened them, his thought 
 still of his daughter. 
 
 " Bring her here, or take me to her," he said, a little 
 revived. 
 
 " I will bring her at once," said the youth rising. 
 
 A curious spectacle to the British officers who knew 
 the dying man, his prejudice, bitterness toward the 
 Americans, here now receiving this officer of the enemy. 
 They knew his name, something of the rumored romance 
 of his attachment to Edith, whose name they caught from 
 the father's lips, and enough of his words to imply that 
 she was to be committed, at this last, to his protection 
 to become his bride, perhaps. 
 
 There was a hurried consultation, a litter was brought, 
 the mattress carefully lifted upon it, some of the British 
 soldiers called as bearers. McLain took charge of the 
 cortege which was soon on its way to the Indian village.
 
 The Messenger to Editli. 291 
 
 A horse was led to Dudley, which he mounted and set 
 forward to prepare the daughter to receive her dying 
 father. They to thus meet, who parted last on that 
 night, on the banks of the dark swift Maumee. He, the 
 scorned lover, now commissioned to bear this message 
 to her who scorned him, unknowing of her love as he 
 was. 
 
 The ladies at Moravian town were thoroughly awak 
 ened by the call that summoned General Proctor to 
 battle. No more thought of rest for them or of retire 
 ment. The hours of darkness brooded prolongingly to 
 them. The rough north clouds, tinged with winter, that 
 breathed upon the departing general, disappeared with 
 the night, and the sun arose cheeringly and with good 
 omen, as it seemed to the three women. 
 
 Edith and Anita had the impression that the armies 
 were encamped, confronting each other, and with the 
 light would join battle. The elevation on which the 
 town was built was for the region considerable ; its slope 
 was gentle toward the west. Below them the primitive 
 forest beyond the cleared fields not wide, in that direc 
 tion stood unbrokenly, to the river's bank, as contin 
 uously on the southern bank. Nothing could be seen 
 save the grand innocent woods. 
 
 Anita, with the wild heroic blood of her race quickened 
 by the certainty that her people were in ambush near, 
 awaiting the enemy's coming, to attack, moved lithely 
 and nervously about, her hand toying with her father's 
 dagger which she wore, her splendid eyes flashing, her 
 thin nostrils distended, with the eager expectancy of the 
 hour, every fibre of her exquisite form quivering, every 
 sense alert. 
 
 Edith, externally calm, her face colorless the blood
 
 292 The Torys Davgliter. 
 
 had gone back from the surface to fortify the citadel. 
 She knew she must passively wait. The mouth was 
 firmly set, her long, dark, nearly straight brows almost 
 meeting, were low, like a resolved woman, who had many 
 approaches to her heart to guard. She could not do, and 
 must endure passively, the severest test of strength, power, 
 will, which would find relief, as vigor, in action. 
 
 The sun clomb slowly toward the zenith. The wild 
 serene peace of the forest was unbroken. Life there 
 flowed in its undisturbed channels. What did it mean ? 
 In the final hour did the Americans hesitate had they 
 turned back ? Where was Dudley ? Did he think of her, 
 now ? Did he know he was near her ? Two armies, 
 bloody battle were between them. Her heart was be 
 seeching Heaven to guard him, the more as she had, 
 seemed to to no matter. He had no mother, sister, 
 to ask God to guard him. In some vague way, as her 
 thought would linger with him, the impression of impend 
 ing evil to her seemed to gather about him. If he was 
 to be stricken, let her but see and tell him all her heart 
 while he would yet know. Tecumseh, notwithstanding 
 his impressions of not surviving, she felt would pass 
 through untouched. She knew there was no reason for 
 this impression that did not as well apply to Cliff ton. 
 Her father, as in personal peril, did not occur to her. 
 He was not armed, would not be exposed, save as a sur 
 geon, a chaplain might be. 
 
 At high noon the forest still seemed a solitude. She 
 noted the time one ! two ! three ! Then the indistinct 
 sounds of tumult ; low down thunder, like the smothered 
 roar of millions of pigeons getting on wings from the 
 ground and beating the air together. She had never 
 heard anything like it. Was that the battle ? Then
 
 The Messenger to Edith. 293 
 
 shouting, a volley of musketry, a wild, great continuous 
 tide of human voices, with a roar, which then diminished 
 and still the woods were full of it. Then another wild 
 shout, and the answering yell of 1500 Indian warriors. 
 They had joined battle this was their war. When this 
 struck the ears of the Indian girl she sprang into the air, 
 with her brandished dagger in her hand, and in her 
 woman's high, clear, far-reaching voice, answered, echoed 
 it back. This cry she knew. It was the battle-cry of her 
 people, her blood and kindred, striking the hated Amer 
 ican, avenging a century of wrong. 
 
 Edith sprang to her, yet could hardly control her, in 
 this first firing of her wild blood. 
 
 This, the warwhoop, was followed by the Indian volleys, 
 the replying Kentuckians, the heavy and nearly simulta 
 neous musketry of Desha's and Shelby's men. A contin 
 uous rattle and then the firing died away. Silence, and 
 while yet the tumult was audible to them came the sound 
 of beating hoofs, up the near road the sound of many 
 horses. Two horsemen, riding madly, dashed up the 
 swell, then more, half a hundred, as if escaping. On they 
 came the two in advance, in the livery of the Prince 
 Regent, not drawing rein, bending forward over their 
 horses, flashed past, blasting Edith's sight. Their follow 
 ers hard after. 
 
 She recognized them the two. She threw up her 
 arms in a frenzy of amazement! Proctor and Home 
 fleeing ! A British general fleeing the enemy, running 
 away from battle, where his soldiers yet faced the foe. 
 Craven ! dastard ! coward ! " Oh, my father ! my 
 father ! " she called wildly, sinking down and covering 
 her face with her hands, in an agony of shame and 
 ansfuish. For the time she saw and heard no more save
 
 294 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 an indistinct beating, as of the feet of running horses. 
 Later, Anita told her of the pursuers, who captured a 
 body of running foot soldiers, with whom a few horsemen 
 were halted. The rest dashed forward, gained the sum 
 mit, and disappeared in hot pursuit. 
 
 Tecumseh, then, had made the real fight ; the British 
 general had escaped, was the reading by the girls of what 
 they saw. Edith's hope now was that the noble matron 
 had been spared the spectacle of the fleeing man, as 
 oblivious of wife and children as of soldiers and honor. 
 When she turned her eyes again down the river she saw 
 a single horseman, at a rapid, springy gallop, riding up the 
 road. An American officer, she thought, from his dark 
 uniform. He came up, drew rein, and she recognized 
 him. 
 
 " Blessed Father ! Cliffton Dudley ! What brings him ? 
 How can I meet him ? " were her mental exclamations. 
 " Anita ! meet detain him, for an instant ! " she said to 
 her sister, and hurried into their small dwelling. 
 
 " Dudley ! " cried the still greatly excited Indian girl, 
 approaching him as he alit, withholding her hands. " It 
 is all over ! " she cried, her eyes flashing in his face. 
 
 " All over, my poor dear Anita," his voice as his look 
 very sad. 
 
 " Poor Anita ! What has happened ? Tell me the 
 worst." 
 
 " The British soldiers are prisoners." 
 
 " Oh, I don't care for them ! Tecumseh ? The war 
 riors ? " eagerly. 
 
 " They fought like tigers, till long after the soldiers 
 threw down their scarcely used guns then they with 
 drew." 
 
 " All ? all ? My uncle Tecumseh ? tell me of him."
 
 The Messenger to Edith. 295 
 
 " He was badly hurt. His son and cousin and the 
 young Red-Wing the chief and his warriors, helped him 
 away." 
 
 " You saw it, you know it ? " 
 
 " I helped them." 
 
 Now tears relieved her. She held both her hands to 
 him, which he took tenderly in his, looking sadly in her 
 face. 
 
 " You came to see my sister ? " raising her eyes again 
 to his. " You love Edith ? " in a solemn voice. 
 
 " As I love life, honor." 
 
 " Then you must carry her away this time. She has 
 gone in. I will show you." She conducted him through 
 the open outer door to an inner room. When he entered 
 this, she closed the door, leaving the two alone, and ran 
 out to meet some returning Moravians, who had seen 
 something of the battle. She did not return for many 
 long hours. 
 
 Edith arose from her seat, with outward calm, her face 
 very pale, and advanced to meet her visitor, to whom she 
 extended her hand, her eyes just meeting his, and droop 
 ing under them. He took the extended hand in both his, 
 as assuring her of the greatest consideration. She was 
 the first to speak must speak. 
 
 " Oh, Cliffton, what a time ! You know I must be 
 humiliated, crushed, and you come to see it, to triumph in 
 it." 
 
 " Triumph ! You still think so meanly of me ? I am 
 still less to you than your worst enemy." 
 
 " Oh, Cliffton ! You do not, you cannot think that. 
 You do know, you must know, your own true heart must 
 tell you. You are dear to me, more to me than all 
 friends, King, his cause, my father I had almost said,"
 
 296 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 now trembling, breaking into sobs and sinking into a seat. 
 
 He knelt by her side, placed one hand on her waist, 
 with the other drew her head down upon his shoulder. 
 
 " Dearest, most precious of earth and heaven, you 
 know my whole heart, my life, are yours, to be devoted 
 to you." 
 
 At the word dearest, she stayed her emotion to hear. 
 What woman would not, a speech thus begun. As it was 
 ended, a hand came up, clasped the one that timidly 
 touched her waist, and pressing, drew it about her, as if 
 that was the arm's proper place. There was nothing 
 more to tell. Her words had told all. This priceless 
 act compensated all. 
 
 For a half minute the youth could not speak. There 
 was another more precious office for lips. They were 
 not to be thus blessed till after many hours. 
 
 " I come from your father," he said, at length, op 
 pressed with the message he bore. 
 
 " My father ! " springing to her feet, turning to him. 
 He arose, still retaining the willingly captured hand. 
 " My father ! from my father ? What of him ? I had a 
 dread. You were more in my mind. It was for you as 
 so exposed," speaking with frank courage. 
 
 He placed his disengaged hand about her waist. 
 
 " Why don't you tell me, Cliffton ? Is he hurt, 
 slain ? " 
 
 " Not slain, but he is hurt. The fortune of a widely 
 scattered battle." 
 
 " Oh, Oh ! take me to him at once, I pray ! " strong 
 when an appeal came for action, though for such a cause. 
 
 " I am having him brought to you. You will be brave 
 and strong. Be patient for a little. He will soon be 
 here. He sent me to you, as if it was my right to come. 
 We will now think only of him."
 
 The Messenger to Edith, 297 
 
 " Let us go and meet him," she said, leading towards 
 the door. " It was your right to come to me. No 
 need now to think, to speak, of ourselves. Surely we 
 are each other's now and alway. Nations may war, they 
 shall not separate us again," and their hands joined. 
 
 " Never never again ! " was his response. 
 
 " Our my father's awful mistake was to involve these 
 unknowing ones in our cause and its ruin. Oh, if he 
 can be spared to help repair it to them." 
 
 " Be brave, Edith." 
 
 " Oh, I know what that means," she said, yet moving 
 firmly and rapidly, cherishing the arm that supported 
 her, because its pressure gave her such comfort, not 
 because its support was needed. 
 
 To the innocent Moravians, the Americans were objects 
 of a superstitious terror. They fled, and hid from the 
 passage of the tempest of them the large, bony Ken- 
 tuckians, on their strong, rough, tall horses. Dudley, the 
 handsome, brave, sad looking young officer, was of dif 
 ferent form, but one of the dreaded Americans. They 
 were surprised to see him stop in their village, and in 
 front of Mrs. Proctor's house ; more surprised to see 
 Anita fly to him so cordially. They now drew near, then 
 she led him to the beautiful English lady's house and left 
 him there. Very soon she came out with him. They 
 saw him pass his arm about her waist and she seemed 
 to like it ! They were lovers ! And the innocent things 
 did not greatly wonder at that, if once they had met. 
 And then they walked down the road, toward the place 
 of battle, she with one hand in his, his other arm keep 
 ing its place, and they followed the amazed young girls 
 and children, while the elders stood staring after them 
 wondering what it meant.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE FOREST PRINCESS. 
 
 AH-NI-TAH started with a purpose, heroic for a 
 woman of even her spirit. Her cousins, who had 
 as yet won no names for themselves, and would now each 
 be known by the name of his slain father, had the night 
 before made their way to Moravian town, sought out and 
 had an interview with her, bringing messages from Te- 
 cumseh and Wasegoboah, telling her of the doings of 
 the day and the expectations of their morrow. She knew 
 in a general way where they would encamp this night. 
 
 She had attached a young Moravian girl to her ser 
 vice, for the few days of her remaining, and who with all 
 the women of the village regarded her as a very superior 
 being, and especially as like them she was a Christian. 
 She called her, and together they walked down the road 
 toward the battle-field. She had been reared with her 
 people, lived with them all her life until within the last 
 three years, when with their consent she became the 
 adopted sister of Edith, by whom she had been known 
 and taught in childhood. She was an expert in the 
 native sign language and knowledge of the forest. On 
 the way, her companion described the passes of the long 
 and comparatively narrow swamp, well known and often 
 used by the villagers to gain the open wood north of it. 
 It was her purpose to visit the Indian camp. The 
 returned Moravians knew of the death of her great kins- 
 
 298
 
 The Forest Princess. 299 
 
 man, and though the words and manner of Dudley left 
 her in no doubt of his fate, their report was decisive. 
 She must be there to mourn, as a daughter, with the be 
 reaved family, and take her place in the general lamen 
 tation at his interment which she knew would take place 
 ere the next dawn. Her place was with her sorely 
 straitened, defeated, and destitute people, in this awful 
 visitation. She may have been conscious of another 
 motive, which she put by as well as she could. She knew 
 the preferences of the gallant young Sac chief. He had 
 sent her a tender, half sad message by the young Tecum- 
 seh, as he would now be called, to which she had made a 
 light, half coquettish reply. It was the memory of this 
 that induced in part the decided act of her token by 
 young McLain. Child of nature that she was, at the 
 moment, on the eve of battle, she was equal to the act, 
 had she heard no word from him. Skilled in the ways of 
 the heart, from her intuition, and careful study of her 
 sister's affair, she had no doubt of her supreme place in 
 the young chief's regard ; and she had no hesitation in 
 letting him see in that hour, that her thought was of him. 
 
 A fourth of the way to the American position they met 
 the slowly moving litter of the wounded man. It was 
 set down, and she had some touching words with him, 
 told him her errand, had his whispered blessing, kissed 
 his cold hand, leaving her tears upon it. As she was 
 about to go forward, McLain told her of the delivery of 
 her trinket to the young chief, the disposition he made 
 of it, and placed his gift in her hand. What an exquisite 
 thrill, as she clasped it closely in her slim, taper ringers 
 and palm, shot along her nerves so new and so delicious. 
 
 Day dying was yielding to shadow in the mysterious 
 depth of the old wood, as the girls approached the now
 
 300 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 peaceful scene of the late conflict. Evidently victors and 
 captives had encamped on the ground occupied by the 
 Americans, along the river, at the commencement of the 
 battle. The many sounds of a great camp, as the gleams 
 of its fires, met the ears and eyes of the alert Anita. She 
 had an especial object for a closer inspection of the camp. 
 She left her companion, and under cover of forest trees, 
 stole near and moved along the eastern border of their 
 camp, until she satisfied herself by intelligent obser 
 vation, that they certainly would not .move that night. 
 Armed with her dagger, lithe and noiseless, she was near 
 enough to hear their careless words more than once. 
 As she made the nearest approach, there came the 
 thought a fierce, momentary, passionate desire, to lead 
 a thousand warriors in a wild, swift rush upon them that 
 night. She shook her hand in a menace at them, silently 
 laughed the next instant, at her childish passion, and 
 turned back to her patiently waiting maid and companion. 
 
 She placed a coin in her hand and received from her 
 the large, long blanket she wore, capote fashion, over her 
 head, as was the custom of the native women ; and with 
 a low spoken message to Edith and Dudley, she dis 
 missed her, and stood looking after her retiring form 
 until it was hidden by the trees in the now fast growing 
 night. 
 
 Alone, she replaced her weapon, opened the paper 
 parcel containing Red-Wing's gift, which she now saw 
 for the first time since it came to her hand. It proved 
 what she would have hoped for, one of his own ear 
 jewels. A flat, plain, wide ring or rim of gold, contain 
 ing a fiery red stone. She had seen it and its fellow in 
 his ears and knew they were greatly admired. She 
 pressed it to her lips, her slight but rounded bosom,
 
 The Forest Princess. 301 
 
 examined it in the fading light, and placed it in her 
 small ear, robbed for his sake that morning. Then she 
 made a warm little cup of her hand, and prisoned and 
 pressed it with low, sweetly murmured words, directing it 
 to stay there, and cling to her ear like a dear, precious 
 jewel that it was, and may the blessed Saviour keep and 
 bless it forever. 
 
 She then opened out the coarse blanket, gayly worked 
 with beads and red yarn, on a ground of now not pure 
 white, with a red border. She coquettishly threw it over 
 her shoulders, drawing it up over her head, and adjusted 
 it deftly to her form. It was not wanted for her walk, 
 and folding, she laid it on her arm, and then in her light 
 half-barbaric costume, short skirt of rich cloth, hose, 
 moccasins, close bodice of gay color, her sash over one 
 shoulder, sustaining a small reticule in which was her 
 feathered scarlet cap, her belt having her dagger, her 
 head dressed only in its wavy, glossy, black hair, with 
 merely a red ribbon to confine it, she addressed herself 
 to her heroic adventure of passing the swamp alone in 
 the darkness, to find the camp of her stricken country 
 men. The night had already darkened the forest, but no 
 thought of personal fear approached her. 
 
 There was, as stated, a way along a narrow strip of 
 continuous hard land, to find which was her first care. 
 The camp of her friends must be on the hard land on 
 the other side, a considerable distance below, where the 
 swamp, deepest and widest, lay broad and impassable to 
 the American, unless this way was betrayed to him. 
 She knew the roar and tumult of the battle must have 
 frightened the predaceous beasts out of their covers in 
 the swamp for the time, and sent them cowering miles 
 away. Instructed by the Moravian girl, who had pointed
 
 302 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 out to her an immense tulip tree which marked the 
 southern terminus of the pass, she had little trouble in 
 finding it. Faint signs of the trail along its summit were 
 easily traced by her sensitive moccasined feet, and 
 fleetly and noiselessly she skipped along. Once she was 
 attracted by the fragrance of a late blooming wild rose, 
 found in the swamp ; she paused to secure it and then 
 resumed her flight. Nearly two miles over this carried 
 her to the higher land of the north side. Confirmed 
 night was now in the gloomy forest. The approach of 
 the uprising moon was discoverable through the tree tops 
 and very soon the northern bank would be lit up by it. 
 
 She knew sentinels would be posted at or near this 
 point. As she walked along she practised to herself the 
 various signal notes and calls in use among her people, to 
 indicate presence or a wish to communicate, under sim 
 ilar conditions. They would know this pass, though its 
 southern connection was in the rear of the English posi 
 tion. 
 
 Keen eyes were upon the child ere she gained the 
 high ground. Not many yards had she gone from its 
 margin toward its low lying summit, ere she was aware 
 of a human presence. She paused, withdrew a white 
 kerchief from her satchel, and waved it about her head, 
 when a warrior advanced noiselessly from a tree near 
 her. He had read by her movements and form, her race, 
 sex, and youth. 
 
 " Whither goes my little daughter in the night, alone ? " 
 he asked, in a low voice, in a dialect she understood, as 
 he came near where she paused. 
 
 " I seek the camp to weep with the mourning women," 
 was her reply, in accents sad, as the full force of the pur-
 
 The Forest Princess. 303 
 
 pose of her mission was brought by her own words to 
 her apprehension. 
 
 " She knows of the anger of the Great Spirit toward 
 his children?" he asked. 
 
 " I do. It is very black. What is the name of my 
 father who keeps watch here?" 
 
 " Standing-Bear ; and there are others. Did my little 
 daughter see the camp of the Long-Knives ? " 
 
 " I was near their fires to see. They will not move to 
 night." 
 
 " How does she know that ? " 
 
 "They were scattered. Their guns laid by. They are 
 weary; their horses were lying on the ground." 
 
 "My child's eyes are sharp for a little (young) 
 woman." 
 
 "I am the daughter of warriors. I come from the 
 English peace chief." A little proudly these words were 
 said. 
 
 " Standing-Bear is glad to hear her words." 
 
 "Where shall I find the camp?" 
 
 He pointed north-westerly with his hand. " Keep near 
 the swamp, a half hour's fast walk, my daughter, will see 
 the camp fires from the higher ground." 
 
 "Who shall I meet?" 
 
 "Red-Wing is the first." 
 
 "Red-Wing?" 
 
 "The young Sac chief. Light and gay, pleasant 
 spoken." 
 
 "Light gay, my father says?" 
 
 " He fought like an old warrior to-day, and brought off 
 the bodies of Tecumseh and his brother." 
 
 " Wasegoboah ? Is Wasegoboah slain ? " 
 
 "Yes, by Tecumseh's side."
 
 304 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 The maiden remained silent an instant. This was 
 news to her. A great loss, but now swallowed up in the 
 greatest ! She now opened her blanket, drew it about 
 her form, and up over her head, so as to conceal her 
 slender proportions. The act and its motive were ap 
 proved by the warrior. 
 
 "My young daughter is prudent. She need not fear." 
 
 " She does not," was her answer. 
 
 As she moved away the warm blood went in surges 
 over face and neck. She drew the blanket well over 
 her, confining it with her hand across the lower part of 
 her face, exposing little save her eyes. Without leave- 
 taking she moved forward. When distant many yards, 
 the girl assumed the manner and carriage of her sister, 
 careless of the sounds caused by her feet. 
 
 For her the forest was no longer dark and empty. 
 Red-Wing and her shy girl love lit up and glorified it. 
 She was not a Caucasian maiden, troubled how she 
 should or could meet her lover, who had spoken only by 
 a token, and that in response to one from herself. She 
 had no thought, save a half fear that he might not see or 
 hear her. For the rest, if he did, she took no thought. 
 Now she bethought her of her real character, a stealthy 
 moving Indian girl, and fell into its form, walking noise 
 lessly over the leaf-strewn ground, making no more 
 sound than the leaping white-footed mouse of the wood. 
 As she went, warm with feeling and consciousness, 
 she twittered to herself the notes of the small, dark- 
 plumaged oriole, interspersed with the peeps of the little 
 hylode, the trill of a bluebird, and then a low breathed 
 whip-poor-will or two. 
 
 "What singing bird goes here?" was softly breathed 
 near her, in a musical voice not to be mistaken.
 
 The Forest Princess. 305 
 
 The hot blood in its upward leap almost raised her 
 from the ground, as the tall, lithe, young chief stood by 
 her side unseen, till he spoke. 
 
 She recoiled a step. It was her role to be surprised ; 
 nature and art united to make it perfect. 
 
 "No singing bird," in a feigned, small voice, drawing 
 her hiding drapery more closely over her face, while her 
 head drooped forward. " A girl going to weep with the 
 maidens," she added. 
 
 " May I not see my young sister's face ? The night 
 hides it sufficiently, " he said, now advancing nearer 
 her. 
 
 " Standing-Bear told me about a young chief, " she 
 said, shrinking from him. " Are you he ? " 
 
 "What did he say of Red- Wing the grim old 
 growler ? " 
 
 "That he was light and gay, and pleasant spoken. 
 Young girls should avoid such." 
 
 " Oh, he did ! My little sister does not know Red- 
 Wing. She is alone in the great woods, and has far to 
 go, " in a tender, pitying tone. He stepped aside and 
 asked, " May Red- Wing know who she is ? " most re 
 spectfully. 
 
 His voice and manner touched the girl's heart exquis 
 itely. 
 
 " She came from the Moravians," she said. 
 
 " She knows Ah-ni-tah ? " eagerly. 
 
 " Very well ; she came from her." 
 
 " She did ? " excitedly. " Tell me of her," drawing 
 nearer. 
 
 " Why should I ; you not wear her jewel ?" 
 
 " Don't I ? " lowering his head for inspection, the paint 
 washed from his face. " See if I don't. Tell Ah-ni-tah." 
 
 20
 
 306 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 She put up her hands and placed them simultaneously 
 ever his ears. In the right hung her gift. The act 
 released the blanket which slid from her to the ground, 
 and the princess stood revealed to the young chief's 
 eyes. 
 
 " Ah-ni-tah ! " in a glad voice. He clasped the slender 
 waist with his arms, lifted her from the ground to him 
 self. For one moment she abandoned herself to him 
 wholly. Then her form became rigid in his embrace. 
 
 " Unhand me ! " she commanded in an imperious voice ; 
 "the daughters of the Shawanoe are not to be taken 
 thus." 
 
 1 
 
 "You sent me your jewel," in a tender, beseeching 
 voice. 
 
 " You make me regret it, though you were going to 
 battle." 
 
 "You wear mine," he urged. It gleamed on his eyes 
 from her ear. She placed her hand on her dagger. He 
 saw it flash as it leaped upward the full length of her arm 
 for a blow. 
 
 " I will free myself,'* in a voice not to be mistaken, she 
 cried. 
 
 He released her, stepped a yard back from her ; put 
 the silken sash from over his breast where it hung from 
 his shoulder, placed his hand over his heart to show her 
 where it was, and withdrew it with a little gesture. 
 " Strike ! " he said in a proud, sad voice. " The horses of 
 the Kentuckians turned aside from me; their rifles 
 flashed in my eyes, their bullets shunned my breast. 
 Ah-ni-tah does not love Red-Wing. He would die." 
 
 The girl drooped, she dropped her nerveless hands, 
 the dagger fell to the ground. She sprang forward, threw 
 her hands on the young chief's shoulders, her head fell
 
 The Forest Princess. 307 
 
 upon his breast with a sob, her cheek resting against the 
 heart offered to her dagger. A half minute and she lifted 
 her face, her eyes raining tears, in a mute appeal. The 
 tender eyes of her lover met hers, his arms went again 
 about the slender, yielded waist; his lips were placed 
 upon her mouth. The light wind wafted the leaves aside, 
 a shaft of moon rays shot through the opening to witness 
 this forest betrothal. 
 
 A half minute and then the young chief " I may ask 
 you of -your uncle the Prophet, and your aunt, when their 
 tears are dry ? " he asked. 
 
 " I will be your true wife ; gather wood, build your 
 fire, cook your corn and venison, when you come from 
 the hunt," answered the maiden, with the meekness and 
 self-abnegation of the Indian woman. 
 
 " It shall not be said that the daughter of Cheeseekau, 
 of Tecumseh, the wife of Red-Wing, is a drudge," he 
 replied. " I will be as the proudest white man when he 
 receives a bride." 
 
 "Anita is not an English girl. She is an Indian 
 woman. Her husband a warrior, a chief. He must be 
 served as chiefs and warriors are," she answered, 
 proudly, for him. 
 
 Red- Wing caught the gleam of the knife where it fell. 
 He stooped, picked it up and returned it to its sheath 
 under the girdle which cinctured the girl's waist. 
 
 " You must not take another step alone," he said. 
 
 " Red-Wing will not leave his post to go with a girl ; 
 that were a shame to a man," she said. 
 
 " Then you must remain with me till our spies return," 
 he replied. 
 
 " You forget, my uncle and aunt have not given me. 
 To remain alone, a girl with a young warrior, in the
 
 308 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 woods, is shame to a woman," was her reply to this. " I 
 go; Red-Wing goes with me in my heart," placing her 
 hand on her bosom. " You stay ; Anita stands by your 
 side, her hand in yours," she said. 
 
 They stood, two simple children, holding each other 
 by the hand, loath to part. A sound caught the ears of 
 both. 
 
 " Hist ! they come," said the chief, turning in the 
 direction of Anita's approach. Very soon Standing-Bear 
 and his co-sentinel, with three scouts returning from their 
 inspection of the American camp, drew near. They con 
 firmed Anita's report. Nothing was to be feared from 
 the enemy that night. 
 
 The mere presence alone of the Indian girl at that 
 lonely place, was not cause of surprise. When Red- 
 Wing announced her name, the warriors betrayed a good 
 deal of interest. They are less stoical among themselves 
 than in the presence of those of European descent. She 
 was a born chieftainess of the highest rank, and as such 
 to be honored. Standing-Bear, leaving Red-Wing as by 
 right of rank to attend the high-born maiden, arrayed the 
 party for its return, with a front and rear rank, leaving 
 the young pair to walk between them, thus covered. It 
 was in a way understood that the young chief was -a 
 favored suitor, but this had nothing to do with the con 
 sideration extended to the daughter of lost Cheeseekau. 
 They passed down the swamp's margin, gathering 
 the watch as they went. Then turning to their right 
 they went over a swell, a ridge of land, and came upon 
 the margin of a small stream along which on both sides 
 was the camp of the main body. 
 
 Before the arrival of Anita and her attendants, the 
 interment of Wasegoboah and two or three minor chiefs
 
 The Forest Princess. 309 
 
 and such of the private warriors as had been recovered, 
 was accomplished by their kindred and friends. 
 
 That of Tecumseh, a matter of international importance, 
 was by solemn council of the head chiefs, appointed for 
 the hour when the now full moon should attain meridian. 
 The grave had been already excavated with reference to 
 an opening in the tree tops, so that its rays should fall 
 on the head and face of the imperator of the tribes, 
 placed in state over the opening in the earth to be 
 lowered to final rest, when the beams of the distant orb 
 should signal the time. 
 
 Adjacent, on the fallen chiefs left, was the circle of 
 mourning matrons, the conspicuous elderly women, and 
 such of the younger of his immediate personal following 
 as he had distinguished by acts of kindness, or who were 
 of his household, seated abjectly on the earth with 
 their heads bowed. These from time to time sat up and 
 united in a melancholy wail, which rising with the first in 
 place was joined in by the one on her right, taken up by 
 her neighbor, until it circled round swollen by all the 
 voices into a dirge loud and peculiar, and dying away as 
 it began, with an effect upon the ear of a listener singu 
 larly expressive of woe. 
 
 Red-Wing conducted Anita to this weird circle of 
 lamentation, at the point occupied by the widow and 
 sister of the fallen chief, between whom she took her 
 place as an equal mourner. An intimation of her pres 
 ence went swiftly around the band, producing a sense of 
 relief that now the circle was complete. She at once 
 joined in the vocal manifestations of the general woe, so 
 aptly expressive of her personal sorrow for her own loss, 
 and that of her family, and of the divided and broken 
 Shawanoe nation to which they belonged.
 
 310 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 Long the young chief lingered near her, catching and 
 following her low sweet voice, which rilled his breast with 
 longing to carry her away to some blessed retreat of his 
 far off lovely land, and soothe and assuage her sorrow. 
 He remembered that his own place was with the younger 
 chiefs and warriors, and finally, reluctantly, he stole away 
 to find and occupy it. There his romantic adventure of 
 the night was already known, which, with his exploits of 
 the day, united to make him the hero of this disastrous 
 expedition.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 'WE BURIED HIM DARKLY AT DEAD OF NIGHT.' 
 
 THE moon gained the zenith and threw her silver 
 urn full of light down, deluging and lighting the 
 grand face of the mighty dead. Born, living, and ruling 
 in the wan twilight of barbarism, whose broken bands of 
 children with saddened faces were turning away for a 
 final exit, already vanishing phantoms of a past, what 
 place and surroundings, what light more fitting for his 
 obsequies ! 
 
 Around him the inner circle of the elder chiefs, the 
 wise men, distinguished by valor, prudence, qualities 
 best esteemed, were sitting with bowed heads in silence. 
 Back of them the less conspicuous middle aged, with still 
 an outer circle of the young men and youths, beyond which 
 were the rabble of boys and children, the weak minded, 
 and such as failed to fill the common requirements upon 
 the male* savage. All silent, sad, struck each as his 
 nature was, by the common blow. 
 
 At the thus Heaven-designated hour, Laulewasikaw, 
 the surviving brother, who, as prophet was called Tens- 
 kautawa, slowly arose, under the weight of the public and 
 personal grief which oppressed him. 
 
 Injustice has alway been done this chief. That he was 
 early sincere in the needed reformation of his own life, 
 and his now wholly unsuccessful efforts to reform the
 
 312 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 lives of his nation and race, cannot be doubted. That 
 he acted much under the influence of Tecumseh, and was 
 to some extent the victim of his own delusion, can admit 
 of no question. His enmity to the Americans won their 
 enduring hatred, while his failure at Tippecanoe dis 
 credited him with his own race. 
 
 He was a man of ability, an orator, a politician, a logi 
 cian, persuasive, not a warrior, nor in any way a leader 
 in war. It was his office to speak first. 
 
 " Fathers and brothers : The face of the Great Spirit 
 is not turned from his children in sorrow. It is upon 
 them black with anger and wrath ! He took away the 
 heart of our British father this day, that his hand might 
 fall the heavier on his red children. He lies there," 
 extending his long arm and slender hand to the prostrate 
 form. " He lies there, because we are unworthy of him. 
 Whoever this night praises him, condemns himself. 
 Tenskautawa mourns in silence. His voice is lost in 
 grief for the wrongs, the sins, the sorrows of his people." 
 He then slowly drew his robe over his head and face, 
 and sank into his seat. His closing words were received 
 with groans of responsive anguish. 
 
 Then Osh-aw-ah-nah, the Chippewa, Tecumseh's com 
 mander of the right in the battle of the now past day, 
 arose : " We are little children," he said, " wandering in 
 the woods. Lo! the sun falls from the middle of the 
 sky, and goes out. Who shall light up a new day for the 
 little children ? Who shall lead them from the woods ?" 
 He sat down amid groans and sobs. 
 
 Then arose Black-Hawk and said, with solemnity : 
 " Black-Hawk echoes the words of his brothers." 
 
 Round-head arose : " Round-head mourns with the 
 nations. Eldest brother, eldest of all men, of all women."
 
 4 We Buried Him Darkly at Dead of Night! 3 1 3 
 
 His voice broke with irrepressible sorrow. His huge 
 frame convulsed with emotions of anguish. 
 
 Sobs were heard from all the outer circles. 
 
 So one after another they arose, the orators speaking 
 some words. Some remained silent. Many had but a 
 word. More arose and made a gesture expressive of 
 grief. The last exclaimed, "We mourn father, mother, 
 husband, wife, children, nation, all, all lost!" 
 
 Then followed a full minute of utter silence, when a 
 way was opened for the matrons to make their last offer 
 ings to the great chief. Slowly and solemnly the sobbing 
 women entered the sacred inner circle. The widow as 
 first and nearest in place, paused by her husband's side, 
 and said: "Tecumseh's wife mourns the truest husband, 
 father of her son," and laid a chaplet of woven autumn 
 leaves upon his breast. 
 
 His sister was the next. "Tecumapease lays this spray 
 of cypress green, on the heart of her great brother. 
 Brother of all stricken, mourning women. Leader of the 
 wronged nations." The voice of the twice bereaved 
 woman was clear and strong, with a tone of sadness but 
 also of pride. 
 
 Now approached the child of Cheeseekau, drooping 
 and sore hearted. She paused and let fall the blanket 
 from her right shoulder, leaving her bare arm free in the 
 moonbeams. She stood a moment and in a low, sweet 
 voice spoke : " Ah-ni-tah, lonely child of lost Cheeseekau, 
 lays this last rose on the head of her uncle. Summer 
 held it for this." As she spoke, she bent over the form, 
 and performed the act with touching grace and tender 
 ness. She arose, and as if suddenly inspired, she threw 
 up both hands, thus giving her slender form to full view, 
 and exclaimed in a clear, loud, far-reaching voice. "Te-
 
 314 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 cumseh, lifter up of the hearts of the nations, mighty 
 carrier of the tribes in his arms, great to govern, great 
 to lead in war, never conquered in battle, farewell ! " 
 
 Anita's words were received as inspired by a higher 
 power. As she threw up her arms, her tall form lifting 
 itself above her ordinary height, and sent out her clear, 
 ringing voice, she seemed a priestess touched to speak. 
 The whole multitude, the circles, the innermost, all arose 
 to their feet, they stood a few seconds after her voice 
 ceased, and then in absolute silence sank back to their 
 places. Earth and nature said farewell to the dead chief, 
 in the voice of the Great Spirit, by this his favored child. 
 The tribes arose as they recognized it. 
 
 The procession of matrons paused, and stood until the 
 multitude sank to the ground and then moved forward. 
 
 The next was a very ancient woman, in snow-white 
 hair, left to flow and shimmer in the night as it would. 
 It now caught the moonlight, and throwing it off seemed 
 to double its light, forming a faint silvery halo about her 
 head. Pausing, in broken accents she said : 
 
 " Hunter for sonless mothers, bringer of food to child 
 less fathers, comforter of the old and lonely, this I offer ! " 
 laying daintily prepared food by the chief's hand. 
 
 Another cried : " He rescued my husband from the 
 fire kindled by the Mingos." 
 
 " He gave his horse to bear my wounded son from the 
 battle and led the enemy away from his trail," said the 
 next. 
 
 So one after another bore testimony, telling of some 
 act of kindness, generosity, or some deed of devotion, by 
 the hand of the fallen chief. 
 
 When the matrons departed, came the youths, Bearing 
 the food and water. Although pagan that he was, Tecum-
 
 ' We Buried Him Darkly at Dead of Night' 315 
 
 seh had taught that these contributions were silly rites. 
 The Sacs, the Chippewas, the Sioux, would have placed 
 his weapons and slain horse in the grave by him. His 
 family and friends would not permit it. When all was 
 done, the grand form was lowered to the couch made for 
 it, and hidden from human vision. Large timbers were 
 placed about and over it, the earth packed and rammed 
 hard and firm, the whole reduced to the original level, and 
 dead leaves strewn over it as before, while the displaced 
 surplus earth was carefully removed as of all the bury- 
 ings. 
 
 Then the chiefs and principal mourners bathed their 
 hands and faces in the limpid stream, and in form par 
 took of food, and to the eye resumed their wonted air of 
 composure. When all was done, the moon was west 
 ering. 
 
 There was yet another and a different rite to be per 
 formed, no less important to the immediate parties. 
 
 On an open space at the head of the chief's hidden 
 grave stood Red-Wing, with his uncle, Black-Hawk, and 
 supported by the western chiefs in a body. A group of 
 their matrons and maidens were in the near distance. 
 To those in the foreground came the Prophet, leading 
 Anita, accompanied by her aunts, and followed by her 
 cousins, while Round-head and the chiefs of the Ohio 
 and Wabash tribes, with their wives and daughters, came 
 upon the ground from another direction. When the 
 principal parties were thus in presence of each other, the 
 Prophet led his niece forward, her head and face to the 
 eyes covered, in front of the expectant young Sac chief. 
 He said : 
 
 " We here in this presence give our daughter, child of 
 lost Cheeseekau, to Red-Wing, nephew of Black-Hawk,
 
 316 The Tory s Daughter. 
 
 to be his wife this let our brothers witness all. See it 
 our sisters all." 
 
 Red-Wing took a single step forward, extended his 
 hand and received Anita's hand from her uncle, who 
 then lifted and spread abroad his hands, with upturned 
 face, seeming in silence to invoke the grace of the Great 
 Spirit upon the heads and union of the lovers. 
 
 Red- Wing turned and presented his bride to his uncle. 
 She bent her head, he laid his hands upon it, and then 
 taking her by the hand presented her to each of the 
 chiefs in turn, when she was passed into the more effusive 
 arms of the matrons and maidens. Very soon a chosen 
 number of these last led her away for some rite of their 
 own, while the bridegroom was taken possession of by 
 the young men. The Prophet explained that in their 
 present fortunes, the death of the child's English father, 
 it was deemed best to place her under the protection of a 
 husband. 
 
 Later the girls returned to find Red-Wing, with his 
 favorite white pony dappled with black spots, gayly 
 tricked, and a charger, also five or six of his immediate 
 friends, holding each his horse, who were to be the escort, 
 awaiting the readiness of the bride, to set out on her 
 return to Moravian town. She was to remain with her 
 adopted sister, under the protection of her American 
 friends, until the present darkness resting upon the 
 affairs of the nations, friends of both parties, should dis 
 sipate. 
 
 Anita soon appeared, was placed in the saddle, her 
 limbs arrayed for horseback, in gayly decked garments 
 given her by the Chippewa chief's daughter. She was 
 soon ready, her bridegroom chief gallantly mounted by 
 her side, their escort in place, when two or three of the
 
 ' We Buried Him Darkly at Dead of Night.' 3 1 7 
 
 leading chiefs who were in council in the earlier part of 
 the night, approached her. 
 
 " My daughter knows the straits of her people ? " said 
 their spokesman to her. 
 
 " I do. My heart bleeds for them. Anita's marriage 
 does not draw her eyes from the distress of her sisters 
 and their children. So far away and so little food." 
 
 " My daughter is wise. What counsels she ? Old 
 men ask her." 
 
 " Make peace with General Harrison. It will be easy. 
 The Americans are tired of the war. I know one nearest 
 General Harrison, the lover of my English sister. Tecum- 
 seh knew and loved him. He saved Tecumseh's life in 
 battle. They will fill the hungry mouths of my sisters 
 and their children. My English sister, Edith, will buy 
 bread for them. Go to General Harrison in the morn 
 ing. You will be safe with him. This is the only 
 course." 
 
 Sadly and effectively this slender young girl, so sud 
 denly called to leadership by the divine gift dwelling in 
 her family, spoke these words. 
 
 " My daughter says wise words," were the responses of 
 her auditors, who now turned away to the council, called 
 to a final decision of their immediate course. 
 
 Then the cavalcade moved away through the old wood 
 to return the strangely wedded bride to her stricken 
 household. 
 
 They skirted along the northern margin of the swamp, 
 which terminated a little east of the town, passing around 
 this, as portions of the pass across it were not without 
 difficulty, even to Indian horses. Red-Wing dismissed 
 his escort at the margin of the wood, not remote from the
 
 318 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 village, then unable to decide whether he would be safe 
 from capture, or would return to camp. 
 
 With his bride he entered the town in the gray of the 
 chill morning. He set her down near her own door. 
 Her maid, her companion of the evening before, was 
 abroad gathering fuel. She admitted her, and conducted 
 the handsome young chief, who so gallantly rode out of 
 the forest with her mistress, to a place where for the time, 
 he and his horses would be secure until Anita should 
 receive Dudley's protection for him.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE LIFE DRAMA. 
 
 AS surgery was then understood and practised, Mr. 
 Grayson's wound was necessarily fatal and 
 within a day or two. He was subjected to no needless 
 torture. No medical edict was needed to assure his 
 daughter of his hopeless condition. To her this was cer 
 tain, as attended by Dudley she met the procession bear 
 ing him to her presence. As she approached, the litter 
 halted. When the eyes of the stricken father and 
 stricken daughter met, each saw that the other knew the 
 hour of final separation was at hand. To Edith it was in 
 a way the end of the order of all things. For her he had 
 always existed, as a part of it, an important part of provi 
 dence. She had never thought of what would be when he 
 ceased. Suddenly, with no premonition save a formless 
 dread, that seemed to attach itself to another, the greater 
 share of her world was dissolving, and in some way she 
 was called to survive it. 
 
 The instances were rare where a father and daughter 
 had been so much to each other as these, whose ways 
 were to part. For her at the instant the whole world 
 seemed about to pass away. A gleam, a smile of his 
 eyes, restored her to the consciousness of the actual con 
 ditions. She with the fragmentary world were to remain. 
 Great anguish has no fitting means of expression beyond
 
 320 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 that of the lesser. When she took the arm of her silent 
 lover and turned back, following the stricken form, so 
 inexpressibly dear was it, now sole stay, comfort, and 
 rest, she could not forbear pressing it, clingingly, equally 
 blessed in giving its support. 
 
 Soon after gaining Edith's temporary residence came 
 the surgeons of both armies, the chaplains of both gen 
 erals. The first found their work useless, the second 
 their work done. 
 
 Dudley was temporarily relieved at headquarters, had 
 authority to parole and make use of any of the prisoners 
 who might be willing to be of service. More than could 
 be useful tendered themselves to him. 
 
 It had been anticipated by the surgeons that Mr. 
 Grayson might die on the return of day, instead of 
 which he seemed to rally in the night, and perhaps had 
 the methods of later years been applied, he might have 
 recovered. With a reawakening of strength, his mind 
 was called into activity. It seemed to have gained van 
 tage-ground, where, in a backward survey, the things puz 
 zling and incoherent when they occurred, fell into per 
 spective and their relations revealed. Devout and fer 
 vent, he accepted the prevalent notions of such minds of 
 that day, that the affairs of men were ordered and super 
 vised not by any broad and comprehensive scheme, but 
 from day to day as exigencies arose, by the immediate 
 hand of God directly, and that while men were the direct 
 and unavoidable instruments of accomplishing moral 
 purposes, they might themselves be punished for the parts 
 they thus performed. 
 
 He had a clear apprehension of the supposed source of 
 his present injury, and his mind busied itself with it, in 
 its relations with other things and events.
 
 The Life Drama. 321 
 
 " To me," he said, " it matters little whether my death 
 is caused by a stray shot of the combatants, or was sped 
 by the hand of an intended assassin. For each man the 
 earth was in effect created on the day of his birth. For 
 him it is dissolved in the hour of his death. An accident 
 dissolves it, as certainly as a purposed slayer ; the casu 
 alty is the murderer. A man might prefer to reach his 
 end by natural causes. Are not all causes of death nat 
 ural causes ? Mine most so, if it comes from the hand of 
 one employed by me to slay others. There is little profit 
 in this speculation." 
 
 He remained silent for a little space. " In that event it 
 is a curious instance of a man's unconscious agency in 
 his own destruction. You remember the Huron ? " to 
 Dudley. " Of course you do. You saw this Indian there, 
 know why I was there. Its pretence was to secure sol 
 diers for England ; it was to employ the benighted creat 
 ure to meet and murder me here, on the remote banks of 
 this river. No matter no matter, Edith, child, let me 
 follow it out. I must think the main purpose the larger 
 was God's purpose. I was merely his instrument. For 
 me it was not a right thing to do probably, not that it is 
 quite certain, so while doing God's work, I am punished 
 individually for doing it. 
 
 His mind lingered on this as if satisfied with its logic 
 at the last, and then it took up another strand of the com 
 plex web of human association. " How curiously runs 
 the thread of man's life at least so it seems to the man 
 himself, when he disentangles it from other threads, from 
 the sum of human life and association, sets himself 
 apart as I may now, and traces the influence of others 
 of events on his individual life and fortune becomes 
 himself.a principal figure in the drama of his own life
 
 322 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 a part of the great ceaseless drama which to history never 
 begins or ends. The men, the events, which controlled 
 his life and destiny, are to be withdrawn from the broad 
 current of history, and so arranged that their influence 
 on him is brought into clear light, everything else to 
 become background and chorus as in Greek tragedy. 
 Spectators will find the piece dull." 
 
 He closed his eyes, seemingly to give time for the men 
 tal segregation of which he spoke, to take place. " I, the 
 smallest atom in a great contest, would serve my king. 
 Well, it turns out that King George, the Prince Regent, 
 President Madison, their councils, parliaments, and con 
 gresses were really but conspirators against poor small 
 me. The old rebellion, the minor plots of all the years 
 since ; your father, Philip Dudley," to Cliffton , " You, 
 my child," to Edith ; " our meeting you," to Dudley. 
 " How clear in this colorless light, all these now lie in my 
 mind's grasp ; ending as all tragedies must, in death." 
 
 The voice was low, clear, exquisitely sad, as if the 
 spirit had passed from its shattered tenement and lingered 
 an instant for a hasty retrospect ere final departure. 
 
 Edith was kneeling by his couch, resting in part upon 
 the knees of Dudley. The voice, its summing up, the 
 pictures and reminiscences of her past, with the pathos of 
 the present, united to renew the flow of her tears beyond 
 her control. 
 
 " My poor, poor child," said the suffering man, placing 
 his hand on her head. " That was the pagan in me. 
 Pagans are pessimists, you know things work for evil 
 and not good. God overrules our evil, though we suffer 
 for its commission. See ! See ! We work each for him 
 self, yet altogether on the lines of God's great enter 
 prises, unknowingly doing his work while intending to do
 
 The Life Drama. 323 
 
 our own. We are used to punish others, yet in so doing 
 commit sins for which in time we suffer. What a strange, 
 inexplicable scheme, simple and clear if we could attain 
 God's view of it. We do not know the real quality of our 
 own work, or whether important or ignoble. Are there 
 really any important and trivial things ? Are they not 
 after all of the same size ? Well, let us not worry these 
 last sands away. God knows. It is really all his work, 
 and for the grand come out he is responsible." 
 
 Then came a longer pause. He had not yet said what 
 was in his mind to these two. 
 
 " There must have been wrong between Philip Dudley 
 and myself. Not on his part mine, by my not knowing. 
 I may have been in fault for not knowing. I thought he 
 plotted my destruction. He really saved my life at the 
 expense of his own honor. As it then looked to me, he 
 plundered me to enrich himself. He really rescued and 
 saved my estate for me, using his own money for that pur 
 pose. When it was all revealed to me it was too late to 
 rectify anything to him. I learned of this child of his, 
 this Cliffton; I could not find him. When we did find him 
 he repeated his father's benefaction. I did not even then 
 see how much I needed to suffer to expiate wrong, partly 
 from blindness. I don't know the extent of my sin. I 
 had to be re-educated. Clear as his father once stood in 
 my love, lovely as this youth stood in my presence, when 
 it came to me that he had been educated in the school of 
 the hated republic, to command its soldiers, wore its uni 
 form as an officer in the rebel army they were still 
 rebels to me I would have given the world had you two 
 not met. He wore a blue coat ! 
 
 " It was not in nature, in God's holy law, that you two 
 should meet and not love. And I would sacrifice this
 
 324 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 love to the color of a coat, a sentiment of clothes and 
 buttons ! A shadow, as it now seems. I deserved I 
 needed punishment, nothing less than this. I've lived to 
 see a British general flee like a coward from the Ameri 
 cans, from his army, his honor, and on British soil. I 
 am punished. All these things so far as you, my child, 
 are concerned " 
 
 " O father ! I pray you, I implore you " 
 
 "Only a little more, my child. The compensation 
 the come out of all this the end of my drama, is your 
 love, happiness. You are to be followed by others, 
 springing from you, reared by you, in a new, fresh land, 
 not yet polluted, scarcely stained by the crimes of the old. 
 Our older mistakes, sins, have worked out this fruition in 
 God's Way. You two especially Cliffton have been 
 sorely tried. The world for me is dissolving, only to 
 be renewed and glorified for you." 
 
 He closed his eyes and remained silent for a minute, 
 and without opening them said, "I understand, Cliffton, 
 that you know nothing whatever of the early life the old 
 time relations between your father and myself." 
 
 " Nothing whatever. I know little of his early life, but 
 don't, I beseech you, exhaust your remaining strength in 
 recounting this history to me." 
 
 "Within a few months, since the Maumee days, he 
 wrote out a complete history much of it not before 
 known to me. It was done at my request, so so that if 
 anything happened, I could show it to you, or send it to 
 you," said Edith to Dudley ; and turning to her father 
 " Shall I get it and read it to him, Papa ? " 
 
 " Do, my child, writing it was the only pleasant thing of 
 this wretched, wretched summer." 
 
 The child produced and read it, which with explana-
 
 The Life Drama. 325 
 
 tions and incidental talk occupied much time, with occa 
 sional interruptions of the two hospital nurses in attend 
 ance. An abstract of portions of it will bring some 
 details within the reader's apprehension. 
 
 It is to be understood, that the Dudleys and Gray- 
 sons were of the oldest colonial families of Boston. The 
 boys of the same age, and diverse temperaments which 
 complemented each other. Almost more than brothers 
 from boyhood, not being brothers were more careful of 
 each other's feelings ; were school- and class-mates ; 
 Were almost as one in sentiment, until the growing differ-, 
 ences which drove the colonies to separation from the 
 Crown. 
 
 From the first, the Graysons were pronounced Loyalists, 
 and Edward was soon the leader of the young Tories. 
 It was to be gathered that he was proud, indomitable, 
 intolerant. His friend frank, generous, gay, and high- 
 spirited. He was also imaginative and incapable of giv 
 ing pain; in heart and soul a patriot, which he dissem 
 bled from regard for his friend. A rupture came early, 
 forced by the unaccommodating temper of the Loyalist. 
 They parted, never to meet save as foes. Tears, anguish, 
 on Dudley's part; scorn, anger, contempt, on Grayson's. 
 The separation preceded the formal revolt of the colo 
 nies ; was as radical and incurable. Grayson became so 
 obnoxious that he was with others proscribed, and 
 shipped out of the colony. Later he was by name in 
 cluded in the Massachusetts Act of Confiscation, that 
 denounced death for a second voluntary return to the 
 state. He came a second time for his bride and her pro 
 scribed family. He was arrested, tried and condemned. 
 His former friend was a lover of his affianced, and he 
 believed that Dudley caused his arrest. He escaped by
 
 326 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 unlooked-for means. His promised bride and her family 
 were placed in his reach, and he thus accomplished the 
 object of his visit. Years of war followed. After it was 
 over, Grayson learned that Dudley became the purchaser 
 at the sale of his confiscated estates ; very considerable 
 for that time. Grayson was unfortunate in his family. 
 The loss of his wife, and all but the youngest of his chil 
 dren, sent him abroad for a prolonged residence. He 
 from the first enjoyed the confidence of the Crown offi 
 cers, was employed in important positions, was liberally 
 paid, and fortunate in his investments. 
 
 Years elapsed. The bitterness of his personal wrongs 
 lost something of its pungency, though his hatreds had 
 lost little of their strength. Finally, in London, he was 
 overwhelmed by the receipt of a package transmitted 
 through the American Embassy. It contained sterling 
 bills, for the proceeds of the confiscated family estates, 
 of which he was now sole heir, recently re-sold, with an 
 itemized statement of costs and disbursements. The 
 property had been held, until peace and renewed pros 
 perity enchanced its value tenfold. 
 
 Stranger yet, he also received in authenticated form, 
 a statement of the real facts of his arrest and escape, as 
 well as of the escape of his wife and her family. Dudley 
 had no knowledge of his arrest, until after it was accom 
 plished. He planned and executed his escape, and 
 placed his intended wife in his arms. He became sus 
 pected of complicity in this affair, and resigned his 
 major's commission in the Massachusetts troops, made 
 his way to Washington's headquarters, and enlisted as 
 a private. He was soon commissioned, his ability, dash 
 ing courage, fine person and address carrying him 
 forward.
 
 The Life Drama. 327 
 
 The paper also contained a statement of Grayson's 
 return to America. The attainder remained in force 
 against him, in Boston, and he dared not visit his native 
 town. He learned that Dudley was dead, as was his 
 wife ; that he left a son with his wife's family, in New 
 York. Her family name his agent did not learn. He 
 caused search to be made for the child, but got no trace 
 of it, for the reason as he supposed when he wrote his 
 sketch, that the child was known by the mother's family 
 name, and not by his father's. 
 
 Then followed a statement of his fortune. He had set 
 apart a liberal provision for his adopted daughter Anita, 
 and divided the bulk between Edith and Cliffton. There 
 was added to this supplemental matter a recapitulation 
 of the events set out in the opening chapters of this his 
 tory. 
 
 The reading greatly affected all three. Dudley was the 
 most moved. He said he had always felt that something 
 had been kept from him, by his mother's family, as to his 
 father. He knew there was something connecting him 
 with the daughter of a Loyalist, which brought a cloud 
 upon him, and that he became alienated from Boston. 
 All these early trials came upon his father when he was 
 twenty-six, his own age. His father, as he understood, 
 was reputed wealthy, but that he had lost his entire prop 
 erty and lost caste with his wife's family in consequence, 
 as he supposed. This was explained to him now. The 
 Clifftons were Scotch, and thrifty, but he himself was 
 supposed to have inherited his father's weakness a lack 
 of appreciation of money values. 
 
 " A royal weakness of the once almost royal Dudleys of 
 that glorious Elizabethan age," said Mr. Grayson. " In 
 compensation for his and your loss, in the wise economy
 
 328 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 of God, this gold also comes to your hand, with at least 
 honest usury." 
 
 "I wish I had ten thousand dollars now," said the 
 young man thoughtfully. 
 
 " For what ? " asked Edith. 
 
 " To buy food for Tecumseh's poor Indians." 
 
 "My royal Dudley!" cried the girl joyfully, clasping 
 and kissing his hand. 
 
 " You see I cannot be trusted with gold," he said to 
 her father. 
 
 " You shall have your way," was the reply. " I do 
 not like your name Cliffton so well as Dudley," he added. 
 
 " O I do ! I called him Cliff the second day I saw 
 him," said Edith. " O what a day that was ! Our day 
 of young love, that we did not know," said Edith in a 
 sad ecstacy. 
 
 " You blessed Edith ! Yet how awfully I was punished 
 for thinking that you loved me," was Cliffton's reply. 
 
 " Not that, Cliff, but for assuming that unasked I had 
 confessed it. Some time I want to talk all that over with 
 you." 
 
 "What precious things your maiden lips will tell each 
 other of your virgin hearts. Poor boy ! You " (to Edith) 
 " wasted a kiss on his hand, when his unkissed lips were 
 so near," said the father, almost vivaciously. 
 
 "Well, his lips have not yet had a chance, " said the 
 girl in a regretful small voice. Then coloring, she ex 
 claimed, " Surely ! surely ! we cannot think O father, 
 we forget you in these light words." 
 
 " Let me have it to tell your mother that I saw her 
 daughter and Philip Dudley's son join their lips in a true 
 lover's kiss," he said, with touching solemnity. 
 
 She arose to her feet as did her lover. He bent to her,
 
 The Life Drama. 329 
 
 proffering his lips. She shyly lifted her red mouth to 
 them. A sob, a gush of tears, were inevitable. An arm 
 went up around his neck, and for a moment bliss banished 
 all else from the child's heart. Then she stood, sustained 
 by his arm, her head resting on his shoulder, when came 
 again her father's voice speaking in weakness. 
 
 " Time and strength pass ; one, a more important thing, 
 I must report to all the departed, the rite which makes 
 you two one." 
 
 Edith had not thought of this as an immediate thing, 
 and heard his words with a half scared look. 
 
 " Surely you can trust me," said Dudley, assuringly 
 to her. 
 
 " I do, I do trust you ; it shall be as our father wishes," 
 she said in a very low voice. 
 
 The night passed. With the next day came Anita, that 
 sorely tried child whose strength and elasticity of form 
 and spirit arose with fresh vigor to the demands upon her. 
 This stricken household, the dearest and most sheltered 
 home her strange life of wandering had ever known, 
 was as dear to her heart as if born of it ; this for the time 
 was her place. Her marriage though hastily entered into 
 was not lightly assumed. To her the new relation was 
 solemnly made, with self-devotion as entire and unreserved 
 as the heart and nature *of one as gifted and exalted 
 as was hers, are capable of. She was one never to be 
 sunk and lost in another's life and being, but herself to be 
 and remain a centre attracting others. 
 
 For the time her adopted sister and father had claims 
 paramount to this nearest and dearest one, whom she 
 gayly put by for the time, feeling the tonic of his presence 
 near her. She did not forget or neglect the needs of her 
 sorely pressed kindred. She knew her English father, as
 
 330 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 she called him, had made the amplest provision for her, 
 and if he lived he would exert himself to the utmost for 
 them. If he died, Edith and herself would in like manner 
 care for them, and she had the most entire confidence 
 in Dudley. 
 
 These things were in her thoughts as she rode through 
 the moonlit old wood, and emerged from it in the chill 
 gray of the morning. She should hasten to Dudley for 
 her husband. Her husband ! she, Anita, had a husband ! 
 What a property ! She should tell her romance to Edith 
 at the first possible instant. What a solace, joy it was, 
 buried in the silent depths of her nature, amid the dark 
 ness and blood that rested upon and flowed over her kin 
 dred and her families of both races. 
 
 Edith was struck with the sweet, subdued radiance that 
 seemed to illuminate the child's face child no longer, as 
 she had before discovered, save in the mode of speech 
 she and her father indulged in from habit. The chance 
 to tell Edith of the happenings beyond the gloomy swamp, 
 occurred on her entering the house. Dudley, as she wished, 
 was present. Both had lost the faculty of surprise. At 
 the first Edith was shocked. Another tie was dissolved. 
 All were loosened by the blow which prostrated her 
 father. Dudley thought Anita's marriage the most natural 
 thing in an orderly course of events. He requested the 
 pleased girl to bring in her chief. Distressed, distracted 
 as Edith was, she knew he was no common man. The 
 handsome young barbarian's form was not strange to her 
 eyes ; and was an ample excuse, if not a justification, for 
 her sister's act. It was her going away, going back to 
 barbarism, that was the blow. 
 
 Dudley gladly gave him assurance of safety in presence 
 of the American army, whose lines were a little later ex-
 
 The Life Drama. 331 
 
 tended to embrace the town, for police purposes. He 
 placed in his hand a written pass which would protect 
 him from annoyance, and give him the rights of a priv 
 ileged visitor.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE BRIDES. 
 
 ABOUT ten that forenoon General Harrison, Com 
 modore Perry, General Cass, Colonel Warburton, 
 Major McLain, and one or two others, on Dudley's invita 
 tion, were in attendance. Mr. Grayson wished to see the 
 American commanders, and Dudley conducted them to 
 him. He said to them that he felt a wish to see men 
 who had rendered such service to their country. Harri 
 son, with the sympathy and kindness of his nature, ex 
 pressed his profound regret for his misfortune, assured 
 him he was more pained by this incident than by any 
 other casualty of the affair. Grayson inquired the condi 
 tion of Barclay, and Perry was able to report him as 
 doing well. Mr. Grayson was especially interested in the 
 frank, modest, rather shy young sailor. 
 
 The bride was then conducted to her father's side, fol 
 lowed by Anita, and her stately young chief ; also by the 
 noble form of a veiled lady. The British chaplain was 
 present in canonicals, and rendered the beautiful marriage 
 service of his church. The dying man gave away the 
 bride. 
 
 No one of the party had ever before witnessed nuptials 
 so impressively celebrated ; no one had witnessed them 
 under similar circumstances, probably. Dudley led his 
 bride apart and presented the American guests. General 
 
 332
 
 The Brides. 333 
 
 Harrison said he approached her as a veritable heroine 
 of romance, for once realized in actual life, something of 
 which he knew from the hero himself. From his heart he 
 congratulated Dudley, who was worthy of his rare fortune. 
 He really felt for once to congratulate a bride. He only 
 hoped she would not withdraw her husband from his 
 side. 
 
 " General Harrison," she said, with touching sweetness, 
 " I know now how perilous the place by your side is. I 
 have no wish to withdraw him from it. I am an Ameri 
 can. My mother was one ; always felt herself an exile 
 from the land of her birth. It will be my home. I hope 
 to be worthy of it, and of him," raising her eyes to her 
 husband's face, with tears in them. Not in a continuous 
 speech as here set down were these words spoken, nor do 
 I report all this conversation. 
 
 Edith then spoke for the unfortunate Indians ; she was 
 certain they would sue for peace, and she hoped to be 
 permitted to buy food for them. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Dudley, if anything could prove my 
 friend's rare fortune in winning you, it is this thought that 
 at this hour," glancing toward her father's couch, " you 
 should plead for these unfortunate people. I am very 
 glad to assure you they are now my friends, and ample 
 food is on its way to their camp/' 
 
 " Oh, father ! " cried the gratified girl, turning back to 
 him, " do you hear his words ? " which she repeated to 
 him. 
 
 " Tell General Harrison he has brought the greatest 
 possible solace to a dying man," he said. " It does 
 much to reconcile me to our changed fortunes." 
 
 Then Red-Wing and Anita were presented to the Amer 
 ican general, Anita as the adopted daughter of Mr. Gray-
 
 334 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 son and niece of Tecumseh. He received them with the 
 utmost kindness. Anita made Red- Wing say, that had he 
 known General Harrison, he might not have joined in the 
 war against him a free rendering of his words. For 
 herself, she said, she had learned much of him, and was 
 sorry he and her uncle were ever enemies. 
 
 The general was a thorough student of Indians. He 
 was greatly struck by this daughter of the race. She had 
 been moved to tears by his kindness to her people. He 
 was glad to give her assurances of his care for them, and 
 many warm words for her personal well-being. He should 
 return at once to Detroit, where he hoped to meet her 
 and her husband, who might rely on his good offices. 
 Then with leave-taking the general and his officers re 
 turned to his camp. 
 
 Red-Wing was greatly impressed by Edith's marriage 
 ceremony. Anita translated its liturgy. He expressed 
 an ardent wish to be married by the same service. He 
 thought that Anita, educated, and an English woman by 
 adoption, and a Christian by conversion, should be mar 
 ried as would an English maiden be as her sister had 
 been. Anita was charmed with the idea, and very much 
 by his thoughtfulness for her. Edith and Dudley were 
 consulted and cordially concurred. The chaplain on 
 consideration thought it proper, and consented to offi 
 ciate. At two that afternoon the tender and impressive 
 service was repeated in Mr. Grayson's presence, and 
 these high born children of forest and plain were wed 
 and blessed as the Christian church unites in marriage. 
 In reply who gives this woman ? the dying man nodded in 
 reponse. 
 
 It was one of his last intelligent answers. His room 
 was then declared sacred from further things of earth ;
 
 The Brides. 335 
 
 save his nurses, the American chaplain of his own church, 
 the noiseless footed brides, and Dudley, no one invaded 
 its sanctuary. 
 
 As the ensuing night was yielding the earth to the arms 
 of another day, when the stars were recalling their rays, 
 with their returning beams his spirit departed, and at the 
 sunfall what remained was for the time committed to the 
 keeping of the earth, on thel ovely bank of the Thames, 
 near the resting-place of the Moravians. 
 
 The army, its prisoners, spoil, and trophies started the 
 day before on its return to Detroit. Among the things of 
 interest taken was a small brass three-pounder, worn and 
 battered, bearing the royal arrow of Britain, with the date 
 1775. O n lt was inscribed " Taken at Saratoga, October 
 17, 1777," to which had been added " Retaken at Detroit, 
 August 16, 1812," now to be supplemented with " Recap 
 tured at the Thames, October 5, 1813." 
 
 The Indians also moved in the afternoon of the same 
 day. With them went proud and happy Red-Wing, the 
 only man of the British force, white or red, who had occa 
 sion to be glad that he saw the Thames. 
 
 The fine little Ariel with her four short i2's and gallant 
 commander, Packet, which with the other light vessels 
 worked up the river, after the battle, was left with space 
 for Major Dudley and his party, who got on board on 
 the morning of the eighth. With a clear sky of serene 
 blue, sparkling sunshine, and crisp air, they swept down 
 past the battle-field, along the now silent banks of the 
 Thames, which so lately bore the fleeing and pursuing foes 
 in the panoply of war. 
 
 Warburton and many of the English officers were of 
 the party, the colonel having charge of his absent gen 
 eral's wife and family. The Indian bride, piquant, alert,
 
 336 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 subdued by the misfortunes of her family and race, yet 
 feeling the play of the abundant energies stored in her 
 form, which she had been taught to hold in the subjec 
 tion of the daughters of the highest civilization, her 
 heart full of her gallant chief, and conscious of the added 
 dignity which all women feel from marriage, her 
 thought was of her bridegroom as he disappeared from 
 her in the twilight of her marriage day, riding away to 
 join his band, mounted on his strong, active charger, and 
 attended by her own gayly decked pony, her husband's 
 gift. She was now on her way to meet him, and enter 
 upon her new, and in all other respects, her oldest life ; 
 moving gracefully about, with the air of a newly wedded 
 princess, married according to the ritual of an ancient 
 Christian church. This greatly pleased her, as she 
 reflected that she was married by the same ceremony 
 and observances as was her sister. 
 
 Was she a Christian in the sense that Edith was ? 
 Hardly, as we estimate children of a thousand years of 
 Christian civilization ; not at all in the sense of a radical 
 change in the wild nature of a savage. A slip of that 
 wild tree, planted in no matter what Christian soil, or 
 with what care pruned and cut, will grow up with the 
 essential nature of its parent tree. An hundred years, 
 with careful tending it and its offspring, would be essen 
 tial to transform that. A savage bud on a Christian 
 stock is not Christian. A Christian slip in the heathen 
 trunk cannot change the stock and root. Anita identi 
 fied the Great Spirit with the English God, which was 
 much, showing the wide kindred of all the races. Jesus, 
 whose life and mission were of the deepest and tenderest 
 interest, and for whose death she shed tears of passion 
 ate sorrow, was, nevertheless, not so much her Redeemer,
 
 The Brides. 337 
 
 save as she became English by her adoption. He did 
 not come to her native people. The other race rejected 
 and slew him. That was matter between them and him. 
 The Indians had nothing to do with it, never heard of it 
 for thousands of years. Had he come to them they cer 
 tainly had not tortured and slain him. She was certain 
 she was Christian, as much as an Indian may be. She 
 was sad at the thought of her near separation from 
 Edith. Her sister did not now need her ; she had this, her 
 own young chief ; she, Anita, would be but a hindrance. 
 She was born to a different life, and her dark eyes went 
 westward, seeming to traverse the forest, the wid,e blue 
 lake to the free plains, and their wilder, freer life beneath 
 the sundown skies, beyond her present horizon. She 
 would carry with her what was her own, gained from civ 
 ilization. She would have many things to teach the 
 women of her new people and her husband. Her sons 
 would be chiefs, her daughters wives of warriors. They 
 should be told of all the life, the exquisite pathos of the 
 death of Jesus, and so become better, truer, and ten 
 derer. 
 
 She looked up into the still, warm sky, x the gold, bright 
 earth, the mass of bronze and buff, the soft rich brown 
 of the still apparelled trees. She noted that the water 
 fowl was still at home in the river and reedy margins of 
 St. Clair. There was plenty of time for the journey 
 across sandy Michigan, and round the swampy end of 
 the lake to her far away new home. There would be 
 bright, happy days under all the shadows ere she 
 departed. Her sister was never so dear, so beautiful as 
 now. She turned from the lovely outside world to note 
 the tender loveliness of her face. Her beauty had 
 gained in ripened, softened sweetness, gained from the
 
 338 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 suffering of these latest days of the past months, and 
 now, secure in her love were to be days of serene rest, 
 under his eyes, his arms ever near her. She was with 
 her all the night after her father's remains had been con 
 signed to earth ; had been near her all the morning, was 
 now only just out of the reach of their voices, Dudley's 
 and hers, as they remained near each other on the ship. 
 Hers was the love, the devotion of the tamed, wild thing, 
 for her whose hand, voice, and will had wrought the 
 charm, the willing slavery. Dudley was the only man of 
 Edith's race she could have loved. She felt with a true 
 woman's instinct, that he of right was the chosen of her 
 sister, and it cost her nothing to guide her strong liking 
 into its truer channels. He was a dear, precious brother, 
 and she never before quite comprehended what the love 
 of a sister was. She loved him for Edith's sake also. 
 He was now Edith's husband, and so her brother of 
 right. She was almost as blessed in Edith's happiness 
 as in the wild flavor of her own. It was because Edith 
 was happy that she would abandon herself to her own. 
 Was Edith alone, she would have remained near her. 
 
 Edith caught some words of the group of captive 
 officers near, that this was one of Perry's ships, and she 
 felt a moment's curiosity. Dudley conducted the two 
 girls, attended by the courteous Packet, over the taut, 
 well-appointed schooner, and the officer explained her 
 position in the battle, marks of which her timbers bore. 
 Dudley fancied that the naval battle was not an attrac 
 tive subject to Edith, and managed to make her excur 
 sion over the vessel occupy no great time. He led the 
 girls to pleasant seats on the sunny side of the ship, 
 where, when his slight duties permitted, he lingered. 
 The histories of the young ladies were known to those
 
 The Brides. 339 
 
 about them, as well as the latest events of their lives; 
 and they were the objects of great interest during the 
 voyage, though for the most part left to the society of 
 each other, and the care of the fortunate Dudley. Edith 
 was at the first not inclined to talk. For Dudley to be 
 near, see her, feel her presence, were for him all suffi 
 cient. He had more words with Anita than with her, 
 during the early hours of the voyage. Edith had 
 inherited an introspective tendency of mind from her 
 father. Her experience for these many months had 
 developed it to a mental habit. She was entering upon 
 a new existence. The boundary line separating it from 
 the old was traceable under her eye. She saw herself a 
 maiden of the medieeval ages, set apart, dedicated to a 
 cause by religious enthusiasm and superstitions, a phan 
 tom cause. She now saw the things of that past frayed 
 and faded ; they had become ghostly, and what were left 
 were buried in her father's grave, himself a victim of the 
 illusion ; she, now standing in the kindling light of new 
 life, in a new world, glorified by perfect love, the world 
 of wifely duty and observance. She hardly identified 
 herself with the high, cold maiden before the Ohio mis 
 sion. Of all that past, the experience of the last two 
 years which created her new world, left nothing but a 
 memory. Two years ago she would not greatly have 
 cared to survive her father, and it would have become 
 her duty to devote herself to his memory, as to the cause 
 for which he trained her. She looked into the river 
 whose tide bore her returnlessly away, like the tide of 
 life, flowing ever onward. These waters would never 
 return to their native springs. Did the fountain hidden 
 in the earth mourn their departure ? She was wafted 
 away. It was the law of life. Her father fell asleep on
 
 34O The Torys Daughter. 
 
 the banks of life's great river, and she and her chosen 
 were swept onward. It was God's law. All were within 
 his arms. By and by they all would drift to the land 
 and find the lost awaiting them there. She would not be 
 sad ; another took sunshine or shadow from her. She 
 wanted to see that lovely face light up with its old smile, 
 break into its old mirthful expression. 
 
 Not on this first day could she wholly pass from the 
 life of yesterday. She saw herself coming out of its 
 shadow, and wondered what manner of person she now 
 was. She turned to her lover bridegroom of two days, 
 and saw he was still uncertain of his position toward her, 
 only sought to be near her. 
 
 "Your thought is with the past. It is due that it 
 should be," he said tenderly. 
 
 "Be patient, Cliffton," placing her hand in his in the 
 twilight gathering about them. "Though it seems trea 
 son to my father's memory, I shall be all smiles again. 
 I shall be so entirely blessed and happy in your love that 
 I cannot long look sad if I try. Be patient a little with 
 me." 
 
 "Be patient! why think how little of your voice I have 
 heard, how rarely I have ever touched your hand. I can 
 count the times. Was ever a man so blessed who had so 
 little acquaintance with the one, in a way compelled to 
 wed, so " 
 
 "Compelled? no, no, Cliff, don't say that. No girl's 
 heart was ever more entirely given than mine, my will, 
 my pleasure, were to be wedded." 
 
 "Bless you! bless you! and yet and yet may I say 
 it? I am so much a stranger I hardly dare approach you 
 to take your hand. I was not permitted to woo you, as
 
 The Brides. 341 
 
 I so gladly would. You don't know me the bad, the 
 coarse in me, and I am in well, a half fear of you." 
 
 " In fear of me ? how strangely that sounds ! " 
 
 " I have not in these later years been where I could 
 see, know, and associate with ladies ; I don't know them. 
 Now, my fear is that in some unknown way I may 
 wound the subtle sense of delicacy that is part of 
 woman's nature, the sensitive net-work that surrounds 
 her, and I may lose in your estimation." 
 
 " I wonder if a man ever made such a confession 
 before ? I am sure we may trust each other." And in 
 the deepened twilight many low voiced words were 
 spoken. 
 
 " And do you know, Cliff," she later said, " I am afraid 
 there must be some hurt a sore place in you I want to 
 search it out, and heal it. Tell me now if such there is, 
 that I may explain it, charm it away now, when you 1 love 
 me most, hope most from me." 
 
 Gayly the young bridegroom passed his hands over his 
 breast, his head, and limbs, laughing. " I declare ! a 
 few days ago I was sore all through, but do you know 
 at the touch of your hand, at the sound of your voice, 
 saying that I was more than all, dearest of all to you, it 
 was like the touch, the voice, of the priceless One, for 
 giving sin and making whole." The voice was light and 
 gay when it began. It had a tremolo when it ceased. 
 
 There was a half minute of silence, the stir of the 
 deepest emotion, then she said " We shall have all the 
 past our past reconstructed and lived over. A woman's 
 life is in the heart, the heart and love of her husband. 
 There must be nothing left to spring up out of our past. 
 Black River is all sweet and precious. The Huron, the 
 Maumee well, in the near future there is nothing in my
 
 342 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 heart, in my thought, that I will not gladly have you 
 know. I want you to know know it all." 
 
 They had passed the lower sluggish, sinuous Thames. 
 St. Clair was found still agitated by the tempest of 
 yesterday, a historic storm. Here the saucy little 
 schooner spread more canvas, and went flying across 
 her southern margin, and down the Detroit. She did 
 not stop at the little town of the Strait. Her destiny 
 was Maiden.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 ANITA'S LEAVE-TAKING. 
 
 THE sympathetic Mrs. Gordon heard of her friend's 
 marriage, the one ray of joy in the blackness that 
 closed over Canada West. She expected her return 
 very soon, though the day was uncertain. With such 
 means as she had, she arranged her bridal chamber. In 
 the smaller hours, the weary and overtaxed sisters came 
 and shared it. 
 
 The next morning as Anita pulled aside the heavy 
 curtain which darkened a window, and looked out to the 
 well advanced day, her eyes fell on the statuesque form 
 of her wedded lover, tall and slender, sashed and 
 feathered, posing in unconscious grace in a place com 
 manding a view of the house where she was lodged, with 
 his gaze on another part of it eager, as she saw by 
 the flash of his eyes. He knew the ship had arrived, 
 and hurried to the house, where for an hour ere day 
 broke, his eyes had bored the darker walls that im 
 prisoned her from him. He had not now long to wait 
 ere she went forth to greet him and bless his eyes with 
 the sight of her. Two or three words she had with him, 
 and she conducted him within the house the Grayson 
 residence. 
 
 As they were entering it, Anita saw old Carter standing 
 near the doorway, whom she had not met since the 
 
 343
 
 344 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 night of their adventure on the Maumee, though she 
 knew he accompanied Dudley to the Thames, and was 
 present at the death of Tecumseh. She now ran to him 
 and greeted him effusively. 
 
 Red-Wing and he recognized each other, in the grim 
 way of warrior and scout. Anita told him who Red- 
 Wing was, and of their marriage, which, though interest 
 ing, he heard with silence and composure. 
 
 " I'se a lookin fur Major Dudley. Fs tole I might 
 fine 'im round 'ere," he said finally. 
 
 " Well, he should be here. I do not know where he is. 
 The truth is, Mr. Carter, there are two very bad young 
 men who should be here, and they were both missing ; 
 one belongs to Edith, and the other to me. I have 
 captured mine you see," laughing and showing her 
 teeth at her best. 
 
 "Yis, 'h'es got the best on't though," a little grimly. 
 'The idee that such a gal should marry an Ingin ! ' was 
 in his mind. " Is Miss Grayson in 'ere ? " he asked. 
 
 " Mrs. Dudley you mean, Mr. Carter." 
 
 " Yis ; I'se glad to heer o' that. I knowed purty well 
 'ow that ud be, ever sin that air time on Black River." 
 
 " Oh, so did I ; we are glad we helped, ain't we, Mr. 
 Carter ? " 
 
 " I done w'at I could," said the old man. 
 
 " I know you did ; and she is grateful and loves you 
 for it. And she will want you to live with them. She 
 is here and will be very glad to see you. We talked of 
 you yesterday." 
 
 " Wai, ef she's 'ere, the major ain't fur off," was his 
 answer. 
 
 " No 'e ain't ! " said the major himself in Carter's 
 manner, and just then near enough to hear his words,
 
 Anita's Leave-Taking. 345 
 
 now laughing in his old way. He greeted Anita warmly, 
 asked about Edith, shook the young chief's hand with 
 great cordiality, passed his hand within Carter's arm, 
 and spite of his reluctance took him inside. 
 
 Edith arose from dreamless, restoring sleep. Anita 
 had left her side. Her first thought was of her bride 
 groom lover. She knew he was not remote from her. 
 She thought of her father, with regret for herself rather 
 than for him. Then she turned for brief thanks, grati 
 tude, and prayer for grace, as her custom was. The 
 articles for her toilet were arranged the night before. 
 Her hands were deft in arraying her form, her heart full 
 of love, her eyes full of liquid sensibility. She heard his 
 voice, his musical laugh, as she was taking a hasty 
 satisfied survey of herself. She turned, ran down, and 
 electrified him, surrounded as he was, with a kiss, fairly 
 bestowed. The grace thus rendered electrified the 
 admiring chief also. He murmured something to which 
 the laughing Anita replied. 
 
 " What does he say ?" asked Edith, her face full of 
 color. 
 
 "That I was married like an English girl, and should 
 do as English brides do," she answered, in a tone show 
 ing that she thought his remark was just. 
 
 " Well, he is right. I am sure you may let us see you 
 render him his dues." 
 
 The laughing Anita turned to the young chief and 
 kissed his lips shyly and demurely. He received it with 
 a look of appreciation and thankfulness, placing his arm 
 about her waist, as Dudley had done. 
 
 Mrs. Gordon entered in time to witness the morning 
 rites. 
 
 " Well, I declare ! " she cried. " If boys ever deserved
 
 346 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 it they do. Poor fellows ! " laughing. And then 
 gravely, 
 
 " Oh, these have been sad times for all our nuptials. 
 Let us think we have all wisely done our duty. A time 
 for rest has come, no matter how, to us all. The fault 
 was not ours. Let us pray that peace may come ere the 
 spring comes again." 
 
 She had an unique breakfast party that morning. 
 Carter. was fully determined to be excused. 
 
 " I raly seldom or ever eat ennything myself," he was 
 desperate enough to say. But Edith, who had taken an 
 immense liking to him, declared that henceforth he was 
 to be a part of her household, quite won him to an 
 embarrassed acquiescence in her wish. Red-Wing, the 
 forest born gentleman, cool and collected, was quite equal 
 to his new surroundings, quick and alert, with Anita by 
 his side. Lieutenant Gordon also made his appearance 
 at the table. 
 
 Some things may be disposed of finally, and a 
 little space and quiet found for my hastily wed Anglo- 
 American lovers to cultivate each other's acquaintance, 
 and prepare for the inevitable. Art may not require it, I 
 trust my readers will. 
 
 There was joy in Detroit, in Michigan, in all the wide 
 North-west. Slow as were the currents of intelligence, 
 news, this was so good, so precious, so like a message of 
 mercy down out of heaven, that it took wings and blew 
 itself " in every eye." Evil tidings, slander, malignant 
 lies, never propagated themselves with greater celerity. 
 In a geographical way the North-west was isolated. That 
 which is now a centre and seat of power of the Republic, 
 was then a dim outline, cut off by mountains and wide
 
 Anitas Leave-Taking. 347 
 
 sweeps of wilderness. The lakes, instead of being a 
 highway to and along its northern borders were desert 
 wastes of water, hindrances to intercourse. For all this 
 vast region, the war was over. It was to rage for fifteen 
 months along the lower border, the Atlantic coast, in the 
 south-west and on the ocean. Harrison had conquered a 
 real peace for Michigan, Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, and 
 Illinois. 
 
 Young General Cass was appointed by Harrison civil 
 and military governor of Michigan, and retained his brig 
 ade to maintain his dignity and authority, and commence 
 a brilliant career in the civil service, which was only to 
 miss the highest place in the republic. 
 
 The " Ariel " reached Maiden after midnight of the 
 eighth. Two days later, she started down the lake carry 
 ing Mrs. Proctor, her children and servants, the paroled 
 officers, Colonel Warburton and his subordinates. Mrs. 
 Gordon and her husband, now able to travel, also sailed 
 in her. A sad parting it was to the tender friends, and 
 as each anticipated, a final one. Each had her young 
 husband and no parting from another could be incon 
 solable. Another awaited Edith, a sorer trial. 
 
 Detroit, the region around both sides of the river, was 
 full of Indians, without clothes, without food, abject. 
 Harrison treated them with the kindest consideration. 
 No effort was made to secure undue advantages and ces 
 sions of land from them. All he required was peace, 
 a return to their villages, and a cultivation of good-will 
 toward their white neighbors. He was told of the mag 
 nanimous conduct of Tecumseh toward the unfortunate 
 inhabitants of Frenchtown, which he fully appreciated. 
 He had a personal interview with the Prophet, which 
 gave him a more favorable impression of his character.
 
 348 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 On the morning of the tenth, Round-head, Walk-in-the 
 Water, and their Wyandots, left for the Sandusky, Black- 
 Hoof and his bands undertaking to see them safely 
 home. 
 
 Harrison saw the uselessness of attempting to deal 
 with Walk-in the-Water, for slaying Mr. Grayson. The 
 chief was not in his service, nor in any way answerable 
 to him. The act occurred in the territory of a foreign 
 power. It was a time of war, and although the British 
 had laid down their arms, the battle was raging on their 
 right. He refused to see the chief or permit him to 
 appear in the general council. 
 
 The Miamis, with Rouceville and the warriors beyond 
 the Wabash, started for home in the afternoon of the 
 same day. With these went Jim Blue-Jacket, and all 
 except the Sioux, the remote Chippewas, the Sacs, and 
 Foxes, who were to move the morning of the second day 
 later. Their journey was three or four times the distance 
 of any of the others, their preparation more extensive and 
 elaborate. 
 
 With them would go Anita and Red-Wing. They had 
 remained guests of Dudley and Edith. Everything that 
 could be done that their means of transportation en 
 abled them to carry for the journey, for use when the 
 young wife should reach her husband's lodge, was fur 
 nished. Remittances in the future were also provided 
 for. 
 
 General Harrison treated the chiefs of the remoter 
 nations with distinguished consideration, made them pres 
 ents, and ample provision for their return. Colonel Ball, 
 with 250 of his dragoons, would attend them to Fort 
 Dearborn, with part of a regiment of infantry who 
 would repair and for the time occupy that post. Dudley
 
 Anitas Leave-Taking. 349 
 
 presented Red-Wing a finely caparisoned horse, pistols, 
 and all complete. 
 
 Half the afternoon of the last day the daughter of 
 lost Cheeseekau went about silent, a little nervous, with a 
 peculiar light in her eyes. Edith two or three times 
 caUght those almost wonderful eyes, wide and large some 
 said for her face, fixed upon her with an expression of 
 sadness that disappeared in a sweet little smile, and then 
 she would turn away. She who had made a study of the 
 girl, knew her thought was of their last moment on to-mor 
 row. She was her old self the next morning. She made 
 her appearance arrayed for her journey. 
 
 The Indian army, their lodge poles and covers, all the 
 movables of a body or rather bodies of travelling natives, 
 with their horses and dogs, their women and children, 
 moved early on their westward returnless journey. 
 
 Anita and her husband would be accompanied by 
 Edith and Dudle)', the first few miles, and they sent their 
 horses over to the American side the night before. The 
 morning was cloudless, the sky and earth lit up with a 
 softened splendor of light and warm color. 
 
 Anita on horseback was an unique, an ideal figure, and 
 never more striking than when she sat her gayly capari 
 soned pony this morning. Her scarlet hat, with its war 
 eagle feathers, her closely draped upper person, rounded 
 and quite perfected, branching to exquisitely formed 
 shoulders over which she permitted her glossy black hair 
 to fall unbound, her short skirt, and perfectly formed 
 lower limbs from the knee down, shown in bright closely 
 fitting garments, with her slender moccasined feet lightly 
 touching the stirrups, not needed for one trained as she 
 had been, a silken sash worn over her right shoulder with 
 her ivory hiked dagger, altogether a figure to ride at the
 
 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 head of a squadron of the wild horsemen of the plains, 
 toward which her way led. 
 
 Edith in her civilized draping was scarcely less strik 
 ing ; mounted on a taller horse, which equalized her seem 
 ing height, the two contrasted, and each helped the ad 
 vantages of the other. The brides rode in advance, fol 
 lowed by their husbands. Red- Wing, in the gay trap 
 pings of a young chief, on his return with his bride, was 
 in excellent spirits. If there was in his finely wrought 
 nature anywhere now a tint of sadness or regret, it was 
 sympathetic for the hidden sorrow of his wife. For the 
 present the eyes and thought of each of these fortunate 
 youths was filled with the form just before him, which 
 was every half minute flashing back eyes and face to 
 gladden him with the light of her beauty. 
 
 Rare and rarely blessed young men, permitted to fol 
 low these so tenderly attached young women to the near 
 final parting, where each shall receive his own from the 
 arms of the other ! Is there a more blessed privilege of 
 love than its right of consoling the loved ? 
 
 The girls wisely had, as they thought, their real parting 
 the night before, said their final words, taking last 
 embraces, shed their tears and then turned each to the 
 eager arms of her husband. They were to ride forth to 
 the parting of the ways this morning, and were to wave 
 each other good-by kisses, gayly, from the hand, and so 
 they rode out, and were gay and bright, talked and 
 laughed, let the morning have the music of their voices as 
 if no fountain of tears could exist in either of the light 
 soft swaying forms. The young men shared their moods. 
 They had little to say to each other, and had to call the 
 aid of Anita to say that little. Neither was essential to 
 the other. Red- Wing had complemented Dudley's pres-
 
 Anitas Leave-Taking. 351 
 
 ent, by the gift of his war horse, with its trappings. The 
 young man was not yet a full master of all the horse's 
 wild ways, and found some employment in his mere 
 movement and in humoring himself to them. 
 
 At length Anita became silent, with her eyes looking 
 forward. She spoke not a word. Edith said two or three 
 little things, essayed to sing parts of two or three little 
 airs, and then amused herself with cutting the bright 
 autumn leaves within reach of her whip, as she passed. 
 They had ridden an hour, over the level plain, along the 
 dry sandy trail, the rear of the ever receding western fac 
 ing column in sight. 
 
 At length, upon the margin of a shallow little spring 
 run which crossed the track, the Indian girl drew her 
 rein, sprang from her saddle, and turned back to Dudley. 
 The eyes of the expectant young men were upon her, and 
 both stepped to the ground, the chief leading his horse 
 forward. As she approached him Dudley received her in 
 his arms, she threw hers about his neck, pressed her lips 
 upon each cheek, ran back, took Edith from her saddle 
 and pressed her with a passionate cry of pain to her 
 heart again and again, with sobs and cries of anguish 
 she pressed her kissing lips, and cheeks, and brow, and 
 eyes. For a minute or two there was an utter abandon 
 ment to sorrow. Then suddenly controlling herself, she 
 placed the overcome woman in the arms of the waiting 
 Dudley, turned, vaulted into her saddle, cast her face 
 down into her hands, with a sharp call to her horse, 
 which leaping the stream, flew with her after the dis 
 appearing rear guard. Red-Wing had to put his mettled 
 steed to full speed ere he overtook, and gathered up her 
 abandoned rein. The child never raised her face, nor 
 threw a glance backward ; nor did Edith cast a look after
 
 352 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 her vanishing form. Holding her gently, the eyes of 
 Dudley followed that, until streaming hair and dancing 
 plume were lost in a turn of the trail. 
 
 This was the leave-taking of the Shawanoe's daughter. 
 In the coming years did Dudley and Edith visit her 
 beyond the Great Lake ? We know they did.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 HOMEWARD. 
 
 EDITH was entirely overcome by the passionate 
 outburst of Anita's grief, which took her by sur 
 prise. She had not correctly estimated the strength of 
 the band which united them nor the pain .of breaking it, 
 until it was torn asunder in this last moment by her sister. 
 Perhaps this was requisite to a true apprehension of the 
 real position the child, unconsciously to her, occupied in 
 her heart. Dudley purposely retained her in his arms 
 until the space within vision had lost the voiceless form. 
 When the obtruding forest hid it, he tenderly conducted 
 her back to a little recess in the small trees bordering the 
 trail, led her horse to her side, placed her in the saddle, 
 and mounting his own they moved on their return home. 
 
 " Oh, Cliffton, your wife is such a poor weak child, her 
 heart has been so broken and torn. How would she 
 have lived through it all were it not for you ? How can I 
 ever sufficiently thank God for you ? " 
 
 " She has been so tried. Never a precious girl so 
 much so," he said with a caress. "What she calls her 
 weakness is her noblest woman's strength. It seems I 
 fell in love with a high, proud heroine. There came to 
 my arms a tender, loving woman." 
 
 These words were said as she would have had them. 
 A look of tender gratitude through her tears was his 
 
 353
 
 354 The Tory s Daughter. 
 
 reward. A little later her eyes cast downward, she said, 
 " I shall deserve these words." Then raising them to his 
 face she went on, " Do you remember when you made 
 that strange speech to me, on the " Ariel," I told you that 
 whatever you said, whatever you did, would be wisest 
 best?" 
 
 They rode silently and slowly for many minutes, her 
 thoughts turning to pursuing her flying sister. His, as 
 his eyes filled, with her. Then she trusted her voice to 
 speak of the lost one. 
 
 "There never was never will be such another. The 
 utmost possibilities of her race, were her wonderful family. 
 She found a new side of me and struck her roots and 
 tendrils all through me, and when she tore herself " 
 Her voice broke and her head went down " And there 
 was that exquisite flavor of the woods in all she did, in 
 all her ways." She raised her head, and let her vision 
 sweep off over the tops of the scattered wide branched 
 oaks, seeing nothing, but trying to call in her thoughts, 
 which were yet too nearly akin to feeling. " I had such 
 funny notions of being set apart when she came to us, 
 and as the strong elements of her nature made themselves 
 felt, she should be set apart too. Lovers husbands 
 were not to be thought of. I think she understood me 
 better than I did, so free and natural had been her life 
 and dreams, which girls' thoughts often are. The study 
 of me, my position toward you, led her to think of lovers 
 of her own, if a girl needs leading in that direction before 
 a lover comes. There were a score of young chiefs 
 about her all the last year," looking off. "Then came 
 this young prince from under our sundown, and 
 well, she is gone." These last words cost her an effort, 
 but she said them. " It is best for her, best for her race,
 
 Homeward. 355 
 
 She will be a great woman, an uncrowned queen, ruling 
 in wisdom and prudence. Tecumapease is a great woman ; 
 Anita will be greater. She is educated, knows something 
 of the world, of the modern nations, has a wider out 
 look." 
 
 Then she told of her family, the early loss of the father, 
 the mother, a wise woman of Cheeseekau, his tutelage 
 of Tecumseh, the tragedy of his early death, by which he 
 gained the lone title "The Lost." Then passing to 
 Tecumseh she told the incident of his speech to the 
 chiefs, and the delivery of his sword on the margin of the 
 swamp, and eve of the battle. She said in reply to his 
 questions, that the wife of the chief was a very common 
 place woman, and the son a youth of no promise. Re 
 suming her talk of the incidents of the day of battle, 
 learned from Anita, she said she knew of his own part 
 at the death of Tecumseh. 
 
 And then she insisted he should tell her of his personal 
 experience in the battle itself, which he did, giving her in 
 modest, graphic words a fair account of himself. 
 
 As she looked at the slender, erect, lithe form, broad of 
 shoulders, and pictured the now tender laughing eyes, 
 flashing with battle ardor, riding at the head of the on- 
 rushing column of shouting Kentuckians, directly on the 
 muzzles of Tecumseh's warriors, her face blanched, she 
 hastily sketched her vision in words. 
 
 " Oh, what a wonder you escaped ! God spared you in 
 mercy to me. Tell me what you thought of in the minute 
 or two, after passing the small swamp, before you received 
 the fire ? " 
 
 " Well, there was no clear thought a wild rush, 
 trampling horses, yelling men, a rush of feeling. We
 
 356 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 were going for Tecumseh's warriors, would be upon them 
 that was about all." 
 
 " No fear of death apprehension ? " 
 
 " Oh, well, men have that, I suppose, above the average 
 brute, when he approaches a battle. It was all one with 
 us, when we were fairly under motion, the bugle tanging 
 in our ears." 
 
 " Did you think of nothing, remember nothing, see no 
 inner thing ? " 
 
 " Oh," laughing, " one thing was always with me. I saw 
 the most beautiful, the most scornful face, wearing the ex 
 pression of that tent scene,"" looking toward her, and 
 laughing. 
 
 " Oh, you did ? Oh, Cliffton, is it true ? Is it true ? " 
 
 "It was always with me." 
 
 " And you thought ? " pausing. 
 
 " Well," laughing, " death was not to be avoided." 
 
 " Cliffton ! It was not that which sent you to lead that 
 rushing column ? " 
 
 " No. Had I known what I now know, I should have 
 gone all the same. I should have thought, perhaps Edith 
 will know I am not unworthy her love." 
 
 " And you did think Oh, you did think what ? " 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Well, something, a little perhaps she may hear that 
 he knew how to die as a soldier should." 
 
 " Oh, Cliffton ! These words reveal all to me. I am 
 glad to know it to know how much I owe you." 
 
 rt It seemed a little grievous, then, " he said, laughing 
 again in his old bright way. " I am glad it all happened 
 as it did. It brings out all the hidden things of your 
 nature Oh, Lord ! what a speech ! " he said, interrupt-
 
 Homeward. 357 
 
 ing himself. " I'm what Home once called me, I do be 
 lieve," laughing again. 
 
 " Home ! what did he call you ? " 
 
 " A prig he said ' a damn'd prig.' It was not in 
 tended for my ear, so I did not hear it until now," 
 laughing pleasantly. 
 
 " Well, never mind Home go on, finish what you were 
 going to say." 
 
 " Well, merely, that you were all the time nearer and 
 dearer to me, for my having not read you truly at first." 
 
 " Did I never appear to you in another light ? " 
 
 "Oh, before that time, you. were in the light of dear 
 Black River days." 
 
 "When did you begin to love me, Cliff ? " in a delicious 
 confidential voice. 
 
 " When I first saw you." 
 
 " Oh ! Oh ! when did you know you loved me, I 
 mean ? " 
 
 " The very next day before noon." 
 
 " Oh, you did ? Had you loved so much, you knew it 
 right off ? " 
 
 " Oh, I had a boy's, a young man's fancies. I knew this 
 was love, it was so different, so deep, so high, so stimu 
 lating to do and try to deserve." 
 
 She looked up in his eyes, as if she would gladly cast 
 herself into his arms. She said "Oh, Cliff ! This has 
 been the saddest, dearest morning ! I am so glad to have 
 had it I am only learning something of you. I must 
 learn some things now. Nobody knows anything of you 
 but dear old Carter." 
 
 " I am glad to hear you call him ' dear old Carter ' I 
 am so glad you want to keep him with us," he said. 
 
 " I do love him. I mean to keep him. I am going to
 
 358 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 talk with him. Then there is a little place I am going 
 to take you to, just as soon as General Harrison spares 
 you to me, and to yourself. There, don't say a word." 
 Then raising her bridle hand, her trained horse dashed off 
 in a light, billowy gallop, emulated by the trained Indian 
 war horse.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 CARTER TALKS. 
 
 EDITH had more time on her hands than she cared 
 to consume alone. Dudley was still very busy at 
 headquarters, where for the time his chief could not 
 dispense with his services, and Edith cultivated Carter, 
 who, from shyness and diffidence, became communicative, 
 under the skill and delicacy of her approaches. She 
 found him a gentle, tender soul, with an unsunned nature, 
 having a good deal of information upon the one absorb 
 ing object of interest to her. She led him to talk of her 
 husband, the afternoon of Anita's departure, a subject 
 of quite as much interest to him as to her. 
 
 " You see, Mr. Carter, I really do not know much of 
 my husband ; he don't talk of himself, and I don't know 
 any one who knows him nearly so well as you do. 
 You've been with him alone in his careless hours, as on 
 the march and elsewhere." 
 
 " 'E ain't much uv a hand to talk 'bout 'imself," said 
 the old hunter, reflectively. 
 
 tc No, and I don't yet have much of his time, and then 
 he does not want to talk of himself, and I do not know 
 what to ask him about." 
 
 "Wai, you jes start 'im on things we're you 'r con- 
 sarned, an 'el talk fast enuff." 
 
 " O h ! That will bring him out will it ? " greatly 
 pleased. 
 
 359
 
 360 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " I never seen a young feller sick 'o talkin' 'bout 'is 
 
 gal" 
 
 " Did you ever have a girl, Mr. Carter ? " 
 
 " Who me have a gal ? Oh, I was allus in the woods, 
 and kind o' shy like," he answered, grinning grimly. 
 
 "You take a good deal of interest though, in the 
 likings of young men and women for each other ? " 
 
 "Sartin, sartin. I allus wanted to see 'em true and 
 git to have one anuther, uv course." 
 
 " Well, when did you fancy that Cliff and I liked each 
 other ? " 
 
 " The fust time I seen ye." 
 
 " Tell me about it what you thought ? " 
 
 " Wai, 'e was a helpin' yer pa up the side 'ill, an' you 
 was a lookin up in 'is face like." 
 
 " Yes, I remember it very well. What was Cliff 
 doing?" 
 
 "Wai, 'e was a lookin' down inter yourn, mosely. I 
 didn't see 'im do much else long them air times." 
 
 "Well," laughing, "he did do a good deal of that I 
 am very certain," the lovely color growing lovelier in 
 her face. 
 
 " Thinks I to myself thinks I, young woman, ef ye 
 wants a young man, 'ere 'e is." 
 
 Edith laughed with genuine mirthfulness. "What a 
 dear, funny old hunter! I wasn't thinking of wanting a 
 young man at all, then. I was only so glad for his 
 saving an old one my father." 
 
 " Mebby so. 'E may a got inter yer 'art, without yer 
 thinkin' on't a' tall. I ruther guess tho, ye thought on 
 'im purty soon that's my idee." 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " 
 
 " Ye asks questions, 'n I'll an' I'll have to answer
 
 Carter Talks. 361 
 
 'em well's I can. I'le bet 'e thought 'o you that night, 
 by the way 'e looked at you." 
 
 " Did he say anything ? " asked the deeply interested 
 girl. 
 
 " Mose fellers so reddy to laf is reddy to talk. 'E 
 ain't one 'o them sort. Enny one could a tole w'at 'e 
 thought." 
 
 " Well, I asked you what made you think I must have 
 thought of him, as my lover ? " 
 
 " Wai, I spose a feller 'oo thought as much uv a gal as 
 'e did 'o you, would let 'er see it, an' know it, purty soon. 
 An' enny gal would be glad to like 'im back, sartin 
 shure." 
 
 Edith's laughter at this speech was delicious to hear. 
 " What a dear, delightful, logical old hunter you are ! 
 You are too funny for this world. So you think any girl 
 would like Cliffton ? " 
 
 "Ef 'e liked her." 
 
 " Did you ever see him anywhere, where young ladies 
 were present ? " 
 
 " No 'en I 'ardly ever seen a young lady." 
 
 " When did you first see him ? " 
 
 " 'Bout three year ago, or a leetle better. 'E was to 
 Cleveland, fixin a block 'ouse. 'E was to my bruther's 
 tavern there." 
 
 " That was three years ago when next did you see 
 him ? " 
 
 "Wai, my bruther Lorenzo 's a hunter, an' Major 
 Dudley, 'e 's Captin then, wanted to hunt, 'n so 'twas 
 'greed on that 'e should cum the nex year, 'n 'e cum, so 
 we fixed on Lorenzo's oie campin' place, you see, on 
 Black River." 
 
 " So I am indebted to your brother after all, for meet-
 
 362 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 ing my husband ! How strange things so remote, should 
 be the hinges of our fortunes ! " She paused to think of 
 it. " Now let us come back," she said. " You thought 
 he loved me, and I should like him when I found it out 
 how is that ? " 
 
 " Wai, I dunno as findin' out has much hand in 't after 
 all. I think them as God means to jine, loves soon as 
 they see's one anuther. Them's my idees." 
 
 " And you think God meant to join us as husband and 
 wife ? " much moved. 
 
 " I sartin do. That 's wat 'e wus in the woods there 
 fer, an' that 's wat you cum there fer to see 'n be 
 seen." 
 
 " Bless you you dear old hunter ! So of course we 
 were to love each other. How would he know I was the 
 one ? " 
 
 " Enny man would a trusted ye fust sight." 
 
 " Oh, you dear old man ! You believe in me. You 
 shall love me as your child, be as my father, or a dear 
 old uncle. You will help me care for Cliffton our 
 Cliffton. You can be with him where I cannot go. I 
 want to go back to the Black River days ' days of the 
 shining river ' Anita called them. When you got back 
 from Cleveland, what did you think ? " 
 
 " I was glad on } t." 
 
 " Glad of what ? " 
 
 " Wai, I thought a good deal o' you two you see." 
 
 "Yes, well?" 
 
 " I thought 'twas all right 'tween you ; I sartin did." 
 
 " You thought we had told each other each knew the 
 other's thoughts and feelings ? " 
 
 " Ye see I'd never seen a rale young gentleman 'an 
 lady afore."
 
 Carter Talks. 363 
 
 " Before they came to be in love with each other is 
 that it ? " 
 
 "I 'spose I sposed they'd kiss one anuther an' 
 an" 
 
 " And that would be the end of it ? " laughing. 
 
 " Wai, no the beginnin' on't, mebbe." 
 
 " Oh," laughing almost immoderately. 
 
 " I mean they'd git married that's w'at I meant." 
 
 " You dear, true-hearted old man ! A young man and 
 woman love, kiss, and get married ? " 
 
 "Yis, w'y not?" 
 
 "And then more kisses? " 
 
 " Yis, I spect so," grinning funnily. 
 
 She now laughed with perfect abandon, and though he 
 fancied the lovely creature was laughing at him, he 
 rather liked to hear her, her mirth was so musical. 
 
 " Don't ye think that's the true way ? " he ventured to 
 ask. 
 
 " That is not Shakespeare's idea. He says the course 
 of true love never does run smooth." 
 
 " Wai, I dunno nulhin' 'bout Shakespair. I guess 
 true love '1 run smooth and fast if you'll let it. 'N if 
 you'n Dudley 'd staid there with yer pa an that Ingin 
 gal, in the woods, a week, alone I'd like to know ? " 
 with considerable spirit. 
 
 The young wife burst into peals and shrieks of laughter, 
 with a flash of color suffusing cheek and throat. 
 
 " O you dear, funny, direct old hunter ! I must tell 
 Cliff of that. You would have left us there ? " 
 
 " I done all I could. I managed so 't 'e had to go on 
 with ye." 
 
 " O h, was that your work ? Thank you ! Thank 
 you ! "
 
 364 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 "I kinder tho't ye'd hate t' part," looking her 
 honestly in the eyes. 
 
 " It was time we parted according to you. But, you 
 dear old man, thought of things bad is as impossible to 
 you as it was to us. Now, sometime I will tell you of the 
 Huron and Fort Miami, when Cliffton and I have talked 
 them over. He has cause to feel sore over some things 
 that happened at each of those places. I don't want 
 there should be a speck of misunderstanding left in his 
 mind." 
 
 " Ye needn't feel consarned. 'E don't see enny specks 
 in ye," said the moved old man. 
 
 "No, I know he don't now. I don't want to leave the 
 germ of one. I want to ask one or two things that you 
 know of that happened at your Camp Meigs." 
 
 "The major had a tough spell on't there," said 
 Carter, reflectively. 
 
 " I am afraid he did. It was an awfully ' tough spelV 
 to me, but more blessed than sore, after all." 
 
 " I'm feared 'twas all sore for 'im. Wat kin I tell ye ? " 
 
 "I want to know how he knew I was at Fort Miami?" 
 
 " Wai, I spose Wasegoboah must 'a tole 'im somethin' 
 'bout 'oo ye was, and mebby his seein' ye and Red- 
 Wing's wife to Detroit that air time may have gin 'im a 
 notion ye must ask 'im. Enny way he ast me ef I'd 
 know ye, er know Nita. He depended on her, I suspec'. 
 Ye see I'd been t' Detroit 'n had a suit o' close, and I'se 
 down there the day afore 'n I seen the Ingin gal ; wal I 
 seen ye both, an' tole 'im. 'E said 'e meant ter try and 
 see if he couldn't see ye." 
 
 "Did he tell you that?" a little eagerly. 
 
 " 'E said, sez 'e, ' I mus tell 'er somethin'.' I sed, sez 
 I, ' 'e might write it in a letter 'n I'd take it.' 'E sed, sez
 
 Carter Talks. 365 
 
 'e, ' No, a man as writes wa't I wants to tell 'er, mus' be a 
 coward enny way.' Them's 'is words as I say em," em 
 phatically. 
 
 "Oh, Carter, you ain't making this up ?" 
 
 The old hunter looked surprised and hurt. " You kin 
 ast 'im," looking at her reproachfully. 
 
 " Oh, it seemed most too good. Go on, you dear old 
 man." 
 
 " Wai, I thought twas mose too pesky risky for 'im to 
 go there, but 'e knowed bess. 'E wanted I should see 
 Nita right off ; wal, so nex mornin, 'e set me cross an 'e 
 foun' a squaw-blow, bout the fust o' that spring, 'an 'e gin 
 it to me to gin to Nila, 'n I did, 'n tole 'er wa't 'e wanted, 
 'e 'd be there that same night. Wa'l, she wus tickeled 
 enymose to death. You seen me there in the little gully 
 there." 
 
 "I saw you and can understand all about Anita," 
 greatly interested. 
 
 " She sed you'd be drefful glad to see 'im ; an' she'd 
 meet us, jess up the holler, by the spring run, an' take 
 'im in to ye, 'n I didn't know, I sposed ye'd be glad t' 
 see 'im. Wal, we talked it over, 'n she gave me a scrap o' 
 paper, fer to han' to 'im, and some cole meat an biskit 
 for myself, 'n that night we went." 
 
 Edith drew a long breath, as if some dark matter was 
 finally made clear, and strangely enough, was profoundly 
 interested in his dull narrative, in the broad elliptical ver 
 nacular of his native New England. She now knew that 
 Cliffton acted from his own prompting, and not by any 
 supposed word from her. 
 
 "Mr. Carter, I can't tell you how much this pleases 
 me. So he wanted to tell me something, very, very much ?
 
 366 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 It was too precious to be written, and sent to me. He 
 must tell it himself. What do you suppose it was ? " 
 
 " Wai, I spect it was suthin ye's most dyin' to hear." 
 
 " Indeed it was. You brought him, and he did tell it, 
 as a woman wants such a precious thing told, and " 
 Her head went down with a little sob, as the scene came 
 back to her. " Oh, it was a thing, a scene from a lovely 
 romance, such as rarely happens," musingly, as to her 
 self. 
 
 " Ye see, Miss Dudley, I reely thought ye wanted to 
 see 'im enymose as much as 'e wanted t' see you I 
 sartin did." 
 
 " You had a right to think so. I did want to see him, 
 Mr. Carter, there was a misapprehension. I was to 
 blame, and I was not. I fear I cannot make it clear to 
 you ; perhaps not to him." 
 
 "Wai, I won't bleeve nuthin' bad o' you ennyway. 
 The groun' where ye stand is richer fer ye'r stanin' on't, 
 an' I cant begin to think so well on ye, as 'e does." 
 
 " Oh, you old flatterer ! what a way you have of saying 
 things that a woman loves to hear." 
 
 " Wai, ye see I spose its all in me yit all that a man 
 has to say to wimin." 
 
 " All saved up for me ? And it never turned sour?" 
 laughing very pleasantly. 
 
 " One thing more when he met you later that night 
 you went back to Camp Meigs together; tell me all 
 that he said, how he looked, if you could see him, and 
 the tone of his voice," settling herself to hear a long 
 story. 
 
 Carter, in his simple, direct way, told her in ample 
 detail, bringing out the features of Dudley's depression 
 in a striking way : so much so that the young wife was
 
 Carter Talks. 367 
 
 greatly moved. It had many " Sez 'e to me, sez 'e," and 
 " Sez I to 'im, sez I," in it. She laughed over the wagers 
 made and won. Declared that he should demand pay 
 ment. 
 
 "You had a great deal more confidence in me than 
 he did, Mr. Carter," she said. And later " I want you 
 should do something for me, and for him too. I want 
 you should take a little boat I will give you and go down 
 the river, to Frenchtown, carry a letter from me to some 
 good friends there, and stay there till we come. You can 
 take your rifle, and hunt if you are lonesome ; it won't be 
 long." 
 
 "Sartin, sartin. I'll be glad to. And ye needn't be 
 in no hurray. I long to git inter the woods agin ; the 
 Ingins must a killed and scart off purty much all the 
 game roun' there. No matter, the woods is all there." 
 
 And so that was arranged.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 OVER THE ROADS TO THE END. 
 
 ON the morning following this conversation, with 
 rifle and supplies, Carter set out on his voyage 
 down the Detroit, leaving the wedded lovers to the culti 
 vation and revelation of their latent selves, each possibly 
 astonished to find that a love seemingly so perfect was 
 yet endowed with a capacity for augmentation. We know 
 the wise woman had a purpose to explore the hidden, the 
 sore places in the young husband's heart and memory? 
 for hurts from her own hand. 
 
 On the evening after Carter's departure, Cliffton, by the 
 merest accident of course, discovered a certain ribbon 
 before mentioned, which, with a shy, half help he identi 
 fied as his own, attached to Queen Charlotte's decoration, 
 so often shown the reader, when he tossed it with 
 scornful contempt to the feet of the girl, in the memorable 
 tent scene. He regarded it with amazement. It will be 
 remembered that later on that night, the oft transferred 
 gift was restored to him by Tecumseh. Angry, and then 
 indifferent to it, on his return to the fort, he put it by, 
 without inspection, and never opened the parcel, until 
 hurriedly on the morning of the last fateful battle, and 
 when again restored by Anita, on the morning of her 
 return with her bridegroom to Moravian town, his heart 
 and thought were too full of the engrossing things of that 
 day to note the difference of color and texture of ribbons. 
 
 368
 
 Over the Roads to the End. 369 
 
 This was the hour of perfect fulness, yet capable of 
 receiving more. He produced the trinket, and compared 
 the attachments the first that Edith knew of his re-pos 
 session of the bauble. 
 
 "Oh, Edith!" he cried, "you retained and wore this 
 for my love, even then ? " 
 
 " Yes, Cliffton," both much moved. 
 
 " And this ? " holding up the ribbon still attached to 
 the trinket. 
 
 " I tied it in, myself, hoping it would tell you of Edith 
 and her love. Had it failed to reach you, that night, 
 Anita would have carried it to you in your walled camp." 
 
 What he did just then, not having words, was to kneel 
 by the low camp-stool where she sat, and place his arms 
 about her. Then in due course followed all of the inter 
 view of the Maumee, that romantic episode of the war, 
 the sequent act of our little drama, now recalled, explained 
 and forever disposed of as a possible source of future dis 
 quiet. Edith then told of the rumor of his death, and 
 the anguish of an hour which seemed an eternity of suf 
 fering to her. 
 
 Holding the recovered gift of the German princess, she 
 said : 
 
 " I am so glad Anita restored this. What curious 
 things it has done, and misdone ; poor, unconscious thing. 
 I shall now cherish it for Tecumseh's sake*" 
 
 " And I, mainly for its message of love, now just 
 delivered," said Cliffton. " How stupid and blind a 
 man can be ! You suffered more in an hour than I in my 
 lifetime," he added. 
 
 They were, in talk, on the backward journey over the 
 old road, and soon reached the full banked Huron. What 
 a theme that was, and so fully talked up ! When Cliffton 
 24
 
 3/O The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 told her that had he met her for leave-taking, he should 
 have declared his love, even in the presence of her father, 
 she opened her eyes in surprise. 
 
 " What if I had ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know." Then she told him of her talk 
 with Carter, some parts with a little increase of color, and 
 recurring to his question, repeated : 
 
 "Oh, I don't know. That first flash of the Huron was 
 a revelation of my heart to me. We should part. 
 When I got back the next night and found you had 
 gone, I was very wretched. Had you told me, I think 
 my father would then have assented to an engagement," 
 closing her eyes to let all the possibilities present them 
 selves to the inner vision. 
 
 The paradise of the Indian summer was in its decline 
 and yet had gained in charmed and melancholy beauty. 
 It would take parts of two days to reach river Raisin. 
 They started the next morning. The first few miles were 
 in a way abandoned to the emulous horses a little over- 
 spirited from the two days idleness. Edith was exhila 
 rated. Her presence, the crisp air, sunshine, the half- 
 wild leap of the wholly wild Indian trained horse, lent 
 wings to the spirit of Cliffton. When the steeds subsided 
 to a more ordinary travelling gait, he from choice 
 remained silent, giving himself to a seeming study of 
 the flexile grace of Edith's form, and the ever varying 
 expression of her face, which seemed to catch even added 
 light from his eyes. 
 
 " Why do you look at me so this morning, Cliffton ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " Look at you so do I not alway ? If it pleases you 
 less to look so at you, I must look at you some other 
 way."
 
 Over the Roads to the End. 371 
 
 " No, no. I love to have you. I feel exalted when 
 your eyes praise me. I feel I feel beautiful," dropping 
 her eyes in quickened sensibility. 
 
 "Then you shall live ever with a consciousness of 
 beauty," said the confident man. 
 
 " Cliffton, you will spoil me with praise." 
 
 " My tongue seldom, my eyes ever. You ask me 
 a question and almost reprove my true answer," he 
 said. 
 
 " Then I will enjoy your eyes in silence. Let me think 
 there is some inner goodness, and fancy you see it in my 
 face. That is not a bit a nice speech," after a pause, 
 laughing and coloring. 
 
 " Truth must know it is true, and that truth is beauti 
 ful. Oh, I think it was a lovely speech." 
 
 " Praise me only with your eyes, Cliffton ; your words 
 are much like a flatterer's." 
 
 " I am more than content, Edith, I do not want to talk. 
 I like to hear your voice only don't talk wisely, as you 
 are apt to do ; talk idly a mere murmur of words, that I 
 may laugh with you at them." 
 
 " You have not answered my question," looking from 
 the margins of her wide eyes. " Why you looked so 
 at me ? " 
 
 " Because because since your words of last night, I 
 see more in your face ; so I look more so" And then they 
 laughed as children at a wit which none but children see. 
 The wedded girl had still a purpose. She sobered down. 
 Her mood was his. 
 
 " I wish you felt like talking some. There are so many 
 things I want to know, which no one can tell me but 
 you."
 
 3/2 The Tory's Daughter. 
 
 " As what Edith ? I'm sure you can get anything I 
 know or half know, by asking." 
 
 " Tell me of your father." 
 
 " My father ? " The voice fell a little, and some of the 
 vivacity went out of his countenance. 
 
 " Is he a sad theme, Cliff ton ? " 
 
 " No, not sad so much I've learned so much that 
 throws light on what I never understood it came so 
 late." What he said fully confirmed her father's state 
 ment. He never made his home in Boston after the final 
 escape of Mr. Grayson. Cliff's mother was the youngest 
 daughter of the wealthy Scotch house of Cliffton of New 
 York. His father was well toward forty at marriage. 
 Cliff, the sole child, losing his mother in infancy was 
 cared for by her elder maiden sister Lucy. " Dear, dear 
 Aunt Lucy." Colonel Dudley died when the son was 
 ten years of age, having lost his fortune supposed to be 
 considerable. Cliff was by his mother's family thought 
 to share the open handed nature of his father, and trusted 
 with but a narrow allowance for his mother's portion, one- 
 third of which he would receive at twenty five, and the 
 residue five and ten years later. Many questions were 
 asked and answered. Aunt Lucy was brought out in 
 high relief, as was Boston. 
 
 Edith was thoughtful and tender. 
 
 " Do you remember my father's idea, that all the events 
 of all these years, large and small, were but the shaping 
 hands, conspiring to make or mar our fortunes to pro 
 duce, lead, direct us to each other ? And so it can be 
 easily made to seem. Oh, dear ! All that has happened, 
 the pain, suffering, loss the long years of war and blood 
 even, which have so strangely wrought to this end I am
 
 Over the Roads to the End. 373 
 
 sad and humiliated. Oh, weak and impotent conclu 
 sion ! " 
 
 " That is too depressing," answered the youth, a little 
 under the influence of the sombre spell their talk had 
 worked up. " We, our fortunes, lives, even, are but the 
 most trifling incidents thrown off by the march of great 
 events and the forces impelling them. When you sink 
 their importance to the mere causes of us and ours, 
 striking things in a small way are the seeming result. 
 It was by noticing these seeming events and their play 
 with men that the old Greeks took and perfected the idea 
 of their drama. Always the work of the gods, blind, re 
 lentless forces their drama and its ' unities ' never pos 
 sible in human life." 
 
 " My father said his idea was from the pagan in him 
 you remember," she added. 
 
 " It is too depressing," he replied. " Let us run away 
 from it." Laying a hand lightly on her rein, and sig 
 nalling the horses, away they went at nearly full speed, 
 over the hard level road through the forest, whose trees 
 seemed to whirl and fly the other way. A third of a mile 
 was thus passed, when the horses were checked, and held 
 in, the Indian merely blowing out a long breath, while the 
 civilized horse was a little longer in regaining his ordinary 
 respiration. During the race the eager boy and girl 
 looked into each other's faces with laughter-flashing eyes. 
 When they drew rein 
 
 " Oh, that was glorious ! " exclaimed she, when the 
 excited animal spirits burst forth in peals of laughter, 
 meaningless save to say they rejoiced in their escape from 
 depression. 
 
 " Well, I shall see Aunt Lucy the first of anybody," 
 was Edith's first declaration.
 
 374 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " She's more romantic than dear old Carter," said the 
 still laughing man. " She'll spend more wonders, and 
 tears, and ' did you evers,' over you and our story, than 
 living woman ever shed before ! " 
 
 In the afternoon of the second day out, they drew near 
 the little town. It had not yet occurred to Dudley to 
 ask the particular reason, if any, which moved Edith to 
 visit it. His trained eye ran over the ground, stockade, 
 and surroundings, and he made some observation which 
 betrayed a want of information of the battles of which 
 it was the scene, and she corrected him in a way showing 
 her perfect familiarity with details. To a look of sur 
 prise she said, 
 
 " I was not at the last battle, I was very near here im 
 mediately after the same day." 
 
 Then she told the story of her alarm at Maiden, her 
 presentiment, half vision of him dying in the snow. 
 Spite of her, she was much affected by the recital. He 
 heard her with astonishment, paused, turned his horse, 
 and sat facing her, greatly moved, till her clear, rapid re 
 cital was ended, and then resumed the way, silent for a 
 minute. 
 
 " Oh, Edith ! and that was away back, before Camp 
 Meigs ! " 
 
 Much was said of it by this moved man. Finally, 
 " What have you brought me here for ? Was it to tell me 
 this precious thing of your love and devotion ? What 
 else is there ? I begin to feel abused," laughing again. 
 
 " Well, I have some friends living here. I wanted to 
 see them ; I wanted to draw you away ; I wanted to show 
 them my husband." She was not yet used to the last two 
 words, and spoke them with a sweet bashfulness, very 
 charming.
 
 Over the Roads to the End. 375 
 
 " Oh, you did ? " in a small honeyed voice. 
 
 " Of course ; any girl would. They've heard of you, 
 and will be glad to see you," running her eye over his 
 well worn undress uniform. 
 
 " You ought to be in full epaulets, and feathers per 
 haps." 
 
 He laughed. " You know except in Cass's staff, there 
 ain't a good coat in the army." 
 
 Light soon came to him. Children, one or two women 
 were abroad, as if on the watch. As they passed the 
 first house, all the inmates came out, and very soon 
 along the one street, in advance of them, until before 
 they reached the bridge, quite all the population were at 
 large, eager, respectful, yet seeing Edith only, saluting 
 her, running forward to salute her, touch her hand, her 
 habit, her horse. 
 
 Dudley at the earliest manifestation saw he was on 
 the eve of important discovery. 
 
 "Oh, Carter is here," he said at first. "What has 
 he been saying, I wonder ? " The happy Edith only 
 laughed. " Ah, this is none of his work." And then as 
 he saw she was the one object of interest " By George ! 
 I believe Pm showing my wife ! " he said, " only I have 
 nothing to do with it," he added later. 
 
 They reached the bridge, attended by all the popula 
 tion of that side, and passed it to find all on the south 
 side awaiting them. They made their way slowly, to the 
 late headquarters of the once general of the North-west 
 ern Army, where they alit, surrounded by the pleased and 
 happy villagers. On the bridge, Dudley saw a man he 
 knew, whom he beckoned to him, and from whom he 
 learned the cause of this ovation to his bride. When he 
 removed her from the saddle she saw he knew.
 
 376 The Torys Daughter. 
 
 " Are you glad, Cliffton ? " in a low voice. 
 
 His answer was to raise and press with his lips the 
 hand he held, in silence. All saw the a*t, its grace, 
 many then knew the cause of this homage. Many 
 glances of but half approval had been cast at him. 
 What man could be fit mate for the peerless Edith ? As 
 he now arose from this tribute, so tall, gallant and 
 manly, they were content with him. 
 
 As the lovely, tearful, blushing, smiling girl, now by 
 his side, turned to them and said " My husband," ex 
 clamations of approval, admiration "What a lovely 
 pair ! " came to them from all parts of the two or three 
 hundreds of gratified people. Then they were con 
 ducted to their quarters, the best the little town could 
 furnish. 
 
 Carter returned from his hunt at sundown, bringing 
 the venison of a fine " spike horned buck." He reported 
 large game scarce, but the woods were there, and Edith 
 announced her intention for a ramble in them the next 
 day. Cliff expressed a wish to make an excursion down 
 the river the next morning, to which Edith assented. 
 She divined his purpose to find Wasegoboah's boat. 
 Poor Cliff! 
 
 " Mr. Carter will row," she said, and then noting 
 a flitting shadow pass over Dudley's face " He will be 
 as glad and proud to go as a boy of ten. Not the least 
 restraint upon us, and as silent as a child, to whom 
 speech has not yet been sent." That settled it. 
 
 The next was one of the last serene mornings of the 
 waning season. The sun lost his rays in the lower 
 atmosphere, through which he showed but a dim disk. 
 Carter, with the boat ready for its burden, by the little 
 quay, awaited the approach of the favored ones. As
 
 Over the Roads to tJie End. 377 
 
 might be expected, the man was too absorbed by his com 
 panion to more than note that the little birch was one of 
 the smaller and most exquisite in model and finish, which 
 would once have challenged his wonder and admiration. 
 He placed Edith in the bow, and when Carter had taken 
 his place as boatman, carefully disposed of himself mid 
 ships quite filling the dainty, yet in Carter's hands, per 
 fectly safe little shallop. The prow is turned down 
 stream. We have misgiving. Will it ever turn back ? 
 In fancy we follow along the sandy shore. A little burst 
 of exclamation from Cliff, and laughter on Edith's part, 
 and we know he has discovered the secret and identity 
 of the boat. We know he will hear the glad, happy girl's 
 story of it, and tell her his own. As we move along* 
 catching their glad voices and mirthful notes, anticipating 
 their future, the boat approaches a wooded bend of the 
 river. We may go no further. Its gayly decorated prow, 
 Edith Cliffton, Carter, pass it, and are forever lost to our 
 eyes. Eagerly we bend forward. A faint echo of 
 laughter ending in a sigh, as do all echoes of things past, 
 and silence and solitude, never again to be broken, are 
 upon us. 
 
 Have I a reader who stands with me, gazing down the 
 vanishing stream with regret for our loss, we may turn 
 again to the idyl of the autumn woods on the banks of 
 that stream, called in the soft tongue of Anita, " River 
 of the Shining Water." 
 
 FINIS.
 
 SUPPLEMENTAL. 
 
 TECUMSEH. 
 
 PUCKISHINWAY, Tecumseh's father, was a chief of re 
 nown, and his mother, Methoataskee, was an extraordi 
 nary woman, of the Shawanoe Turtle Tribe. The family 
 all had fine persons, and unusual mental endowments. 
 Losing his father, Tecumseh was reared by his eldest 
 brother, Cheeseekau, who spared no pains to form an 
 exceptional and extraordinary character. The statement 
 of Grayson to General Brock, as in my text, of his teach 
 ing, is strictly true in fact, as are most of the remarkable 
 things there set forth. The brothers were both slain in 
 battle ; both had presentiments of their fate. The speech 
 given as that of the younger on the eve of battle, is 
 authentic, as is his more famous speech to Proctor. 
 
 Various translations have been made of the name 
 Tecumseh, or more properly Tecumtha. Drake renders 
 it the Shooting Star. Another the Flying Tiger, and still 
 another, Wild Cat that leaps. It marks the eminence of 
 Tecumseh, that an otherwise not remarkable man was 
 elected to the Vice-Presidency of the United States on 
 the popular delusion that he slew the chief at the battle 
 of the Thames. Colonel Johnson never claimed this for 
 himself. It is incontestable that he fell, and was helped 
 away at the commencement of the battle, which continued 
 with great fury till Tecumseh was slain fifteen or twenty 
 minutes later. His fall caused a panic. 
 
 378
 
 Supplemental. 379 
 
 The disposition of his remains was, and may still be a 
 matter of dispute. Upon that mainly turned the fortune 
 of his supposed slayer, an important factor in the politica 
 fates of men, later. The Indian supposed to be slain by 
 Colonel Johnson was found on the field next morning. 
 There were but two men in the American army who knew 
 Tecumseh ; General Harrison, and Anthony Shane, an 
 adopted Shawanoe, a life-long friend of Tecumseh (whose 
 statements are accepted as to much of his life). Both saw 
 this dead Indian and failed to identify him. He is shown 
 by Drake, Tecumseh's biographer, to have been slain by 
 a private, who removed much of his gorgeous finery. 
 Harrison did not mention the fall of Tecumseh, in his 
 dispatch of the battle, which was made a point against 
 him later. Black Hawk, who served under Tecumseh, and 
 fought near him, gave an account of his burial in 1832, 
 which took place in the rear of the swamp some five miles 
 from where he fell, the night following. 
 
 As known, the Indians always carry off their dead. 
 They were engaged in this, passing the swamp the night 
 after the battle ; and none but the most fatuous will doubt 
 that the body of their greatest chief, was the first to be 
 secured by them. Wasegoboah fell by his side, and was 
 also cared for. His wife was the great chief's sister, Te- 
 cumapease, in her way as remarkable as her brother. 
 The spring of 1814, she with Tecumseh's widow and son, 
 visited Quebec ; and were treated with much distinction 
 by the English. The Prince Regent sent the young Te 
 cumseh a sword. He and his mother were commonplace 
 Indians, and I discover no trace of them, nor of the 
 Prophet, after he left Detroit in the Autumn of 1813. 
 
 Tecumapease also disappeared at the same time. A 
 commanding woman, she doubtless after the way of her
 
 380 Supplemental. 
 
 sex, under the hardships of savage life, finished her career 
 in the shadow of the diminishing forest, deepened by 
 the misfortunes of her family. 
 
 THE FALL OF DETROIT. 
 
 Dr. WILLIAM EUSTIS of Massachusetts, who had served 
 as a surgeon of the army through the Revolution, was 
 secretary of war, when war was declared. He yielded 
 to Major Armstrong, author of the famous Newberg 
 letters, in January, 1813. One of the acts of the new 
 secretary was to bring General Hull to trial for the result 
 of his campaign. 
 
 Among the consequences of the fifteen months war of 
 the North-west, were three military trials of three com 
 manders. 
 
 General Hull was charged with treason, cowardice, 
 and gross neglect of duty, with several specifications 
 under each ; they were signed by A. J. Dallas, Judge 
 Advocate. The court was made up of officers in the 
 regular service, of which Major-General Henry Dearborn 
 was president. It consisted in addition, of Brigadier- 
 General Bloomfield, Colonels Little, Irvin, Fenwick, and 
 Bogardus, Lieutenant-Colonels House, William Scott, 
 Stewart, Conner, Davis, and Livingston. 
 
 The Army Judge Advocate was Philip S. Parker. He 
 was assisted by Martin Van-Buren, who was the first of 
 the three Presidents who had to do with the war of the 
 North-west. 
 
 The court convened at Albany, January 3, 1814, and 
 set almost continuously till March 28, following. 
 
 General Hull was aided by Robert Tillotson, and C. D. 
 Golden, Esquires, and later by the famous Harrison Gray
 
 Supplemental. 381 
 
 Otis. I have always understood that the remarkable 
 summing up, read by General Hull, his final defence, 
 was Mr. Otis' work. He was a pronounced Federalist, a 
 member of the Hartford Convention, a man of great power, 
 witty, sarcastic, eloquent, pathetic. His defence would 
 make a book of three hundred pages. He hated Madison, 
 the war, and all on that side, and he spared nobody. 
 McArthur and Cass appeared in their new uniforms of 
 Brigadier-Generals of regulars. Many of the militia 
 officers had been so transformed, and used as witnesses 
 by the government. They were handled in a vein of 
 mingled irony, sarcasm and ridicule. Never was there a 
 successful campaign so fruitful of promotions as this of 
 disaster and disgrace. 
 
 Mr. Van Buren was permitted an oral reply. A report 
 of it was promised for publication of the trial. Mr. 
 Van Buren may not have cared to be bound up with 
 Mr. Otis, able as it undoubtedly was. 
 
 In its conclusions, the court found the hapless general 
 guilty of the second, and third charges, and sentenced 
 him to be shot to death. It refused to take jurisdiction of 
 the first the charge of treason. On the record is this 
 indorsement, 
 
 " April 25, 1814. 
 
 "The sentence of the Court is approved, and the exe 
 cution of it remitted. 
 
 (Signed) " JAMES MADISON. " 
 
 No trial before that time, not even that of Burr for trea 
 son before Chief Justice Marshall, at Richmond, nor per 
 haps has any since, so moved the people of the entire 
 republic as did this trial of Hull. 
 
 Many years later the unfortunate general published an
 
 382 Supplemental. 
 
 elaborate vindication of himself, which in the minds of the 
 few thoughtful readers, removed the stains from his char 
 acter. Perhaps nothing could redeem his 'conduct. At 
 a still later day, General Cass said, that " the errors and 
 misfortunes of the general were wholly due to imbecility." 
 His unhappy son, who served as his aid at Detroit, was 
 killed, while gallantly fighting, in one of the later battles 
 of the Niagara frontier. 
 
 COMMODORE BARCLAY. 
 
 THE loss of a British fleet in what had been in fact 
 until it occurred British water, no matter what were the 
 odds, called for a rigid investigation, and the old man 
 was put on trial before a naval court. 
 
 I quote two paragraphs from Coffin's Chronicle of the 
 War in Canada his reference to it, written by the son 
 of a refugee. 
 
 ''" Barclay was the type of a British sailor. He had 
 served under Nelson. He was noted for personal courage, 
 and for that moral courage which at the call of duty defies 
 despair. He was one of those old sea-dogs who lose 
 their hold only in death. He expected more from human 
 nature than could be found in any other nature than his 
 own. Defeat disturbed a nature which death could not 
 daunt. His dispatch on this occasion (his account of the 
 battle) did not do justice by the brave men who stood by 
 him so truly. (The men recruited from the Canadian 
 Lake Marine are here meant.) 
 
 " Some months afterward (after the battle) he tottered 
 before a court-martial like a Roman trophy, nothing but 
 helmet and hauberk. He had lost an arm at Trafalgar, 
 the other was rendered useless by a grape-shot through
 
 Supplemental. 383 
 
 the shoulder. He was further weakened by several severe 
 flesh wounds. Little wonder that men not given to such 
 weakness shed tears at the spectacle. Little wonder 
 that the president of the court, in returning his sword, 
 told him in a voice tremulous with emotion, that the con 
 duct of himself and his men had been most honorable to 
 themselves and to their country." 
 
 Cooper, certainly a high authority, in commenting 
 upon the battle, says this of the seamen reflected upon by 
 the grim old commodore " The history of this continent 
 is filled with the instances in which men of that charac 
 ter have gained battles which went to increase the re 
 nown of the mother country, without obtaining credit for 
 it. The hardy frontier men of the American lakes are as 
 able to endure fatigue, as ready to engage, and as con 
 stant in battle a's the seamen of any marine in the world. 
 They merely require good leaders, and these the English 
 appear to have possessed in Captain Barclay and his 
 associates." 
 
 GENERAL PROCTOR. 
 
 THE moment General Proctor saw the wild Kentuck- 
 ians dash through his red lines, he seems to have 
 lost his head and heart both. He was quite the first to 
 escape. So quick was the pursuit he was obliged to 
 abandon his carriage, which contained his papers, among 
 which was found the famous speech of Tecumseh. It is 
 supposed he saved this criminating, contemptuous philip 
 pic, to show his officers what he had to endure from the 
 Shawanoe. 
 
 Some 250 of all arms got away from the field. The 
 pursuit of Major Payne of Johnson's regiment, and
 
 384 Supplemental. 
 
 Colonel Todd of Harrison's staff, cut off and captured 
 some sixty of them. The rest, after great suffering, 
 reached Burlington Heights, at the head of Ontario. 
 
 Proctor, true to the mendacity of his nature, in his re 
 port of the loss of his army, accused his soldiers, the men 
 of the 4ist, with want of good conduct in the presence 
 of the enemy, in consequence of which General Prevost 
 censured them in a general order. 
 
 Proctor returned to England, where something of the 
 real facts from Warburton and others came to be known, 
 and he was tried on charges of cowardice and negli 
 gence in conducting his retreat. 
 
 To the disgust of the British army, he was acquitted of 
 the first charge, convicted of the second, and suspended, 
 with loss of pay, and was reprimanded. 
 
 The Prince Regent censured him severely in a gen 
 eral order, and the court also for acquitting him, and 
 directed that the order be read at the head of every regi 
 ment of the British army, the world over, and it was. 
 
 GENERAL HARRISON. 
 
 IT should perhaps be remembered that General Harri 
 son, immediately after adjusting matters on his western 
 border, hurried with his available force to the Niagara 
 frontier. 
 
 For some reason never made public, Armstrong was 
 his enemy, and purposely treated him with so many 
 slights and indignities that he offered his resignation in 
 the May following, which the secretary, in the absence of 
 the President, at once accepted, against the protest of 
 those who knew of the offer, and in disregard of the usage 
 of the department.
 
 Supplemental. 385 
 
 Whoever makes himself familiar with the history of 
 Harrison, and the personnel of his army, citizens of 
 Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana, including one or two of 
 the regular army, will be surprised to learn the number 
 of great and conspicuous men found in its ranks. Two 
 of the future presidents* of the republic, while a third 
 became the public prosecutor of the unhappy general, the 
 surrenderer of Detroit; one vice-president, many senators, 
 a great many representatives in Congress ; several foreign 
 ministers; governors of states and territories; judges, 
 national and state, with quite innumerable members of 
 state legislatures. In the later years, to have served with 
 Harrison against Tecumseh and Proctor, was in Ken 
 tucky, Ohio, Indiana, Michigan and Illinois, an honor 
 only second to service in the war of the Revolution. 
 
 *Capt. Zachary Taylor defended Ft. Harrison. 
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