Republican Herald

Miscellany.

From Ned Buntline's Magazine.
ROBRUSH
OR THE YOUNG MINGO CHIEF.

BY H. C. BEELER.

Lash'd by the furies of the mind,
From wrath and vengeance would'st thou flee?
Ah! think not. hope not, fool, to find
A friend in me!
Montgomery.

Early during the spring of 1758 a tribe of
Mingo Indians had encamped on a broad,
wooded promontory, near the head waters of
the Ohio river. The location was very favor-
able to their own peculiar pursuits, as game
and fish were near at hand in abundance ; and
particularly was the elevated knoll, upon which
the camp was pitched, an advantageous position
at times, when border warfare raged at its
height. From the conspicuous summit, sur-
rounded with a thick forest, the warriors had
an extensive view of the river, whilst the
keen, penetrating glance of the skilful chief-
tain could easily discover the least approaches
of the wily enemy.

The warriors had been several weeks absent
on a foraging expedition. The village had
been consigned to the care of women, under
the charge of several Sachems, who, with
their sage councils, directed its general affairs,
while small patches of maize, and favorite
back woods vegetables, were seen sprouting
up rapidly under the careful culture and su-
perintendence of the wives and daughters of
the absent hunters.

The country at this time was in a very ex-
cited state.
The conquest of Fort Pitt was
then an important object to the colonial gov-
ernment.
Several attempts had been made,
which, thus far, had proved unsuccessful.
The different tribes of Indians spread through-
out the lonely backwoods at that period, ar-
dently espoused different causes. Some were
friendly to the overtures and settlements of
the French; others again had pledged them-
themselves to support the branching interest of
Great Britain; whilst some of the more pa-
triotic were found to favor neither, but devoutly
vindicating their right and title to their native
soil, disdaining to ally themselves to any for-
eign power for the purpose of its usurpation.
It thus frequently occurred that those who
went into the forest in pursuit of game, were
compelled to assume the sterner duties of
warriors, and engage in desperate battles;
while the bloody conflicts which from time to
time ensued, were universally instances of the
most inhuman massacres, and horridly revolt-
ing bloody battles.
Spring had already been far advanced; and
the beautiful foliage of the wilderness waved
around in profuse, luxurious magnificence, as
we introduce the reader to this celebrated
Mingo village. It was near sunset, whilst the
playful breeze from the river and the distant
highlands gave an agreeable temperature to
the milder rays of the declining luminary ; and
the calm silence which marked the scene, ad-
ded much to enhance in the mind of a stranger,
that the domestic habitations of the untutored
savage, when free from the brands of ravaging
hostilities, was by no means the theatre of
cruel, atrocious crimes but one of the most
beautiful pictures of social happiness.
The
camp contained two rows of wigwams, erected
along the sides of a spacious street, which
was the Campus Martius of the warriors.
whereon they held their councils, enjoyed
their games, celebrated their festivals, and
sacrificed their victims.
Along the exterior of the huts might be
seen the Indian maidens, under the direction
of their matrons, attending to the simple culi-
nary affairs of the household, by preparing,
upon slow fires, the savory food for the eve-
ning repast.
The stillness was suddenly interrupted by
several repeated yells, which was the common
announcement of the warriors as they re-
turned to the village. The different occupations
were immediately dropped, and led by the
venerable sachems, the inhabitants as-
sembled in front of the village, to welcome their
arrival. A little distance off, their chief,
Brave Thunder, commanded the long file
which he led, to halt. A number of prison-
ers, male and female, with their hands rudely
bound, were ordered to stand forth together.
whilst a semicircular guard was ordered around
them by the savages. The chief then walked
towards the village; and after saluting them,
he made known their bright victory, together
with the number of prisoners they had taken.
This welcome intelligence was received with
repeated demonstrations of joy by those who
had remained in charge of the village whilst
louder and still more deafening were the re-
sponses from the frantic warriors.
Brave Thunder directed the prisoners to be marched
into the village and confined in the council
room, and on the morning he desired a con-
ference, where their fate might be determined.

It is almost impossible to imagine the
wretched condition of the helpless victims
who had fallen within the merciless grasp of
the blood-thirsty savages. Torn from a cheer-
ful fire-side, bound, and dragged amidst their
slaughtered friends to some place of conceal-
ment, then at nightfall, when the conflict had
terminated, caused to march with hurried
pace over hills and mountains, through brush-
wood and streams: and though weak and ex-
hausted, scarcely capable of standing upon
their feet, yet goaded with tortures, they were
compelled to follow their captors. Should
one by chance have fallen from imbecility, his
scalp would have been taken, and his body
left to the beasts! And even those who with-
stood the fatigues of the march, but preserved
their lives for a more formidable doom, the
stake, or the burning pile, awaiting to receive
their ashes. However, in saying this, we re-
cord the true characteristics of their mode of
warfare, therefore let it serve to convey some
faint idea of the suffering of those whom we
have now under consideration.
The hunters, as has been already intimated,
were driven from the chase to the battle-field.
They had taken a wide range for the two fold
purpose of foraging and reconnoitering the
country. They found themselves at length
restricted by a settlement of the whites; and
failing to treat with them on amicable terms,
they treacherously attacked their dwellings by
night, thereby easily securing the astonished
inhabitants prisoners, and leaving their habita-
tions in flames.
Among the prisoners there were several fe-
males, all married save one beautiful dark-eyed
Virginian, of some twenty summers who was
named Ellen De Stacy. Her parents resided
east of the Blue Ridge; but a few months
previous to this she had visited her aunt in the
recent western settlements spoken of, with
whom she purposed spending a few months.
Ellen had received a superior education for
the times, and had not failed to improve her-
self in the most necessary accomplishments
required of that period. Being yet young, all
tenderness, and winning modesty, the compan-
ions of her parents deeply sympathized with
her. Every exertion in their power was made
to render her condition less uncomfortable,
but alas, her fettered companions could do
little else than administer consoling words,
whilst they anxiously dreaded the doom pend-
ing over their heads.
But beauty will exert its wonted influence, in
the palace, the hovel, or the wilderness; and
its bewitching effulgence has more than once
melted into insignificance the most powerful
superstructures of fame and nationality, which
had cost skilful conquerors years of trouble
and warfare to accomplish; or in other words,
it has frequently been instrumental in spread-
ing a fatal snare in the victor's footpath, and
breathing defiance to the invincible martial
host. Brave Thunder had an only son, whom
he loved tenderly, to whom at his death, fell
the command of the tribe. He was called
Robrush, a name in that dialect, signifying
skilfulness. His exploits in the chase, and
on the field of battle, had already, though
young in years, made his name formidable
among the savage tribes, whilst his eloquence
in the council, his kind generosity, mild but
manly dignity, had won for him the esteem of
all his surrounding compeers.

He was soon enraptured and highly appre-
ciated Ellen's loveliness. Although in her
grief she had not noticed his attentions, yet
he was not wanting on his part to offer every
service which might render her condition
more comfortable. When the prisoners were
confined, Robrush took her in charge, and
had a separate apartment provided for her ; in
which she enjoyed a greater liberty than the
others, and could not fail to perceive that some
pitying hand had generously accompanied her
with an especial provision.
Robrush had not yet dared, in the presence
of the warriors, to declare his love for the
"pale face" and, with an ingenious compos-
ure, had succeeded in evading all suspicion;
whilst he impatiently awaited a favorable mo-
ment to declare his attachment.
The tribe at length retired to rest.
From
their deep slumbers it might have been in-
ferred that midnight was at hand. The pale
moon looked smilingly down upon the silent
Indian village, at intervals obscured by a fleet-
ing cloud; whilst, save the occasional rustling
of the winds, the murmuring of the neigh-
boring river, or the hoarse growl of some wild
beast, nothing disturbed its sweet repose.-
Ellen was seated in her little apartment upon
the matted floor, her face buried in her hands,
and weeping bitterly. In an adjoining room
she heard the sobs and prayers of unhappy
companions; whilst she, in the lonely situa-
tion, imagined herself still more unhappy than
they. The curtain which covered the door
of the apartment was lifted aside, and the
young chieftain Robrush entered. His tread
was so light, that she did not at first perceive
him; but as he knelt before her whispering.
some sentences in admiration of her beauty,
she heard his voice, and upon looking up
started with surprise.
"Fear not, sweet pale face," whispered
Robrush, "you shall not be injured."
Ellen was so astonished that she found her-
self unable to answer; but busily attempted
to wipe away the falling tears which rolled
profusely down her blanched cheeks.
"Can tears trouble one so beautiful?" mur-
mured Robrush, clasping his hands and eye-
ing her with a respectful look of admiration.
"Methinks I read in thy sweet eyes to-day,
the glances of a soul too pure and heavenly
to be annoyed by earthly cares."
Ellen looked upon him for a moment atten-
tively, as though unable to discern the im-
port of his compliments, and then in a low
tone inquired, "What want you here, chief-
tain?"
"To tell you how well I love you," an-
swered Robrush, approaching nearer to her.
"Oh, listen to me, and refuse not what I ask,"
he continued, clasping her hand.

"Savage, leave me," cried Ellen, "my con-
dition is hopeless."
"Never—you're saved. I have protected
you; will you not become my bride? Speak,
sweet one, let me not ask in vain."
"I am your prisoner, and must submit to
whatever fate you shall condemn me; but nev-
er—never can I become your wife."
"Oh, beautiful pale face, but once more
hear me. Have some pity on the tortures
within my breast which you have inspired,
and which you alone can heal. Become my
wife, and you shall not be wronged. Nay,
hear me—see what I risk to ask thy affections.
Did the tribe but know I supplicate your love,
I should be dragged to the stake—cast from
the village—disgraced forever. Come, be my
wife, my queen, and the whole tribe shall re-
spect you as their monarch; and all the hon-
ors of my name and station I lay at your feet.
Fair one, do not refuse my prayer—you shall
be happy."
"Never," cried Ellen, with contempt; "you
ask what is impossible. Were I to choose
between your offer and the stake, the latter
must be my choice, for I am affianced to
another."
"Another has your hand—who can be the
happy mortal?" eagerly asked the astonished
chieftain.
"The young man whom you dragged to the
river, and who made his escape this morning."
"Impossible! What brave and generous
youth is honored with your love? But he is
absent; perhaps thinks you dead. He knows
not whither you have been taken; and even if
he did, with conquering forces to follow, he
dare not advance one step, or approach the
victorious Mingoes upon their native hills,"
replied the chieftain, "his face brightening as
their bold deeds flashed over his memory.
"Chieftain," replied Ellen, "beware how
you talk. Edmund, as you say is brave and
generous hearted: and whilst his valor leads
him through every danger which duty dic-
tates, yet his acknowledged generosity will nev-
er permit him to forgive those who have slain
his dearest friends. Two days ago you mur-
dered his aged father and helpless mother,
whilst others too, his relatives, fell by your
butchering knife. Remember that this inju-
ry is engraven on his heart; and although I,
to complete his misery, must be consigned to
the flames, yet the day is coming when he
will hurl you to the earth as his worthless vic-
tim."
Ellen, as she finished the last sentence, be-
came so animated that she had well nigh for-
gotten her captivity. Her despair seemed
dropped for a moment: her eyes flashed with
indignation, her cheeks became overspread
with carmine blushes, and her musical voice
regained its usual firmness as she felt her
confidence returning, by a thought of her ab-
sent Edmund. Robrush, so far from being
incensed at her bold threat, only seemed more
fascinated by her glowing beauty; and now
stood contemplating her with mute wonder.
"Cruel, but sweet pale face," replied he,
"you charm me with your words, even against
my will. Oh! had I you for a queen, every
nation must yield to my power, and the Great
Spirit would assuredly prosper our happy tribe.
Lovely one, companion of my heart, your
lover believes you are dead, come be the as-
sociate of honor; consent and you—

He was not permitted to finish the sentence
—the report of a volley of fire-arms, and sev-
eral bullets passing through the side of the
wigwam announced the approach of the ene-
my. Quick as lightning he sprung on his feet
and fled. The silence of the village in a few
moments was changed to a bloody conflict.
The fearful yells of the savages as they leap-
ed to oppose the intruders, the enthusiastic
shouts of their enemies, the clangor of busy
knives and the sharp volleys of fire-arms, so
suddenly confounding the death-like silence
which had prevailed, that the prisoners, una-
ble to learn the cause, trembled violently with
consternation. It continued but a few mo-
ments, and seemed as though growing fainter.
A few savages escaped to the woods, but so
well had the attack been managed, and so sud-
den had the surprise, that the greater portion
of the Indians, with but little loss to the of-
fensive, lay lifelessly around the camp.
The
prison house was surrounded, and some of the
prisoners joyfully greeted their delivering
friends.
Ellen had swooned in her affrighted anxie-
ty ; and upon recovering, found herself in the
arms of her faithful Edmund. After his es-
cape he had succeeded in collecting a large
force of assistants; and thus, according to the
chances of border warfare, he was successful
in surprising and defeating the outrages of this
unfortunate tribe. The victors, together with
their rescued friends proceeded homeward;
and it should here be stated, (for the satisfac-
tion of readers at least,) that they arrived at
their desolate habitations in safety.

Some fifteen months subsequent to this pe-
riod Edmund and Ellen were married. They
removed to a small farm which he had pur-
chased on the banks of the Potomac. About
the close of the autumn following their remov-
al, an Indian made his appearance in the
neighborhood. He was frequently seen scru-
tinizing attentively the house in which the
newly wedded couple resided; but he never
approached the dwelling, or made known his
intentions. Upon a bitter snow-drifted morn-
ing in December, Edmund discovered an in-
dividual half buried with ice upon the shore.
His limbs were frozen and benumbed by
the cold—none knew how his death had oc-
curred. After having him conveyed to the
dwelling, he was properly attended to, and in-
terred.
Ellen alone shed a tear for the poor
unfortunate, for she had recognized in him
the lifeless features of the gallant Robrush,
the noble young Mingo chief.