The Daughter of the Chieftain | Page 5

took her by the hand and led her inside. Omas paused,
as if in doubt whether he should follow; but her invitation to him was
so cordial, that he stepped within and seated himself on a chair.
That afternoon and night could never be forgotten by Alice Ripley. In a
very little while she and her visitor were on the best of terms; laughing,
romping, and chasing each other in and out of doors, just as if they
were twin sisters that had never been separated from each other.
When Mrs. Ripley asked Omas for how long a time he could leave his
child with them, he said he must take her back that evening. His
wigwam was a good many miles away in the woods, and he would
have to travel all night to reach the village of his tribe.
Mrs. Ripley, however, pleaded so hard, that he consented to let his

child stay until he came back the next day or soon thereafter for her.
When he rose to go, the long summer day was drawing to a close. He
spoke to Linna in their native tongue. She was sitting on the floor just
then, playing with a wonderful rag baby, but was up in a flash, and
followed him outside.
"Wait a moment and she will come back," said Mrs. Ripley to her own
child. She knew what the movement meant: Omas did not wish anyone
to see him and Linna.
On the outside he moved to the left, and glanced around to make sure
that no person was looking that way. Then he lifted the little one from
the ground; she threw her arms around his neck, and he pressed her to
his breast and kissed her several times with great warmth. Then he set
her down, and she ran laughing into the house, while he strode off to
the woods.
But at the moment of entering them he stopped abruptly, wheeled about,
and walked slowly back toward the cabin.
Upon the return of Linna, Mrs. Ripley stepped to the front door to look
for her son. He was not in sight, but Omas had stopped again hardly a
rod distant. He stood a moment, looking fixedly at her, and then
beckoned with his free hand for her to approach.
Without hesitation she stepped off the broad flat stone and went to him.
"What is it, Omas?" she asked in an undertone, pausing in front of him,
and gazing up into the grim, painted countenance.
The Delaware returned the look for a few seconds, as if studying how
to say what was in his mind. Then in a voice lower even than hers, he
said--"You--little girl--big boy--go way soon-- must not stay here."
"Why do you say that, Omas?"
"Iroquois like leaves on trees--white men, call Tories--soon come down

here--kill all white people--kill you--kill little girl, big boy--if you stay
here."
The pioneer's wife had heard the same rumors for days past. She knew
there was cause for fear, for nearly all the able bodied men in Wyoming
were absent with the patriot army, fighting for independence. The
inhabitants in the valley had begged Congress to send some soldiers to
protect them, and the relatives of the women and children had asked
again and again that they might go home to save their loved ones from
the Tories and Indians; but the prayer was refused. The soldiers in the
army were too few to be spared, and no one away from Wyoming
believed the danger as great as it was.
But the people themselves knew the peril, and did their best to prepare
for it. But who should know more about the Indians and Tories than
Omas, the great Delaware warrior?
When, therefore, he said these words to Mrs. Ripley, that woman's
heart beat faster. She heard the laughter and prattle of the children in
the house, and she thought of that bright boy, playing with his young
friends not far away.
"Where can we go?" she asked, in the same guarded voice.
"With Omas," was the prompt reply; "hide in wigwam of Omas.
Nobody hurt palefaced friend of Omas."
It was a trying situation. The brave woman, who had passed through
many dangers with her husband, knew what a visit from the Tories and
Indians meant; but she shrank from leaving Wyoming, and all her
friends and neighbors.
"When will they come?" she asked; "will it be in a few weeks or in a
few days?"
"Getting ready now; Brandt with Iroquois--Butler with Tory-- soon be
here."

"But do you mean that we shall all go with you tonight?"
The Delaware was silent for a few seconds. His active brain was busy,
reviewing the situation.
"No," he finally said; "stay here till Omas come back; then go with