CHAPTER V.
DOUBLE DEALING.
The Dutch master had played his game of duplicity with no little skill.His arrogant attitude towards the head men of the fortress, hisoutspoken hatred for the wild north land and its uncivilisedinhabitants, his outward indolence and distaste for fighting, were allsubtle moves towards the object he had in view. The culminating strokeof practically disarming his ship by sending out thirty of his best menupon a hunting expedition was, he considered, a veritable inspirationof genius. The plan had indeed succeeded in its purpose of hoodwinkingthe French, and Van Vuren was satisfied, because he knew nothing of theventurers who had discovered his plans and were preparing to strike ablow against him for the glory of their country and themselves.
Six men were admitted into their leader's confidence, and five of theseonly at the last hour. Everything seemed to favour the enterprise.The night which had been chosen for the council between Van Vuren andthe headmen of the Iroquois was very dark. No sound came from thesleeping fortress; not a light was showing upon the French ship. Theusual sentries were posted, but the darkness was too impenetrable forthe keenest sight to carry more than a few yards. Van Vuren stepped tothe side of his ship, listened intently for some minutes, and when thesilence remained unbroken whispered an order, and the five picked menclambered down a ladder and guided their feet into a boat which rodealongside. The master followed, the boat was pushed off, and floatingdown stream swung rapidly round the bend.
"To your oars," muttered Van Vuren.
The black water began to trickle gleefully under the bows, the rowersdropping their blades cautiously and lifting them high to avoid asplash. Soon a spark of light broke out upon the shore, at no greatdistance from the falls of Montmorenci, where the river of that namedischarges into the mightier stream. Swinging the tiller round, VanVuren aimed the boat towards that light.
Beside the fire awaited them a stout Dutchman, who had lived in NewNetherlands among the Indians on the banks of the Schuylkill and therehad learnt the language, and with him was an Indian squatting upon hishaunches. The latter was naked to the waist; a round beaver cap camelow over his forehead, and long hair streamed down his cheeks. Hisbody shone like polished mahogany as the firelight played across it.He rose when Van Vuren approached, and remarked upon the exceedingblackness of the night, and the stout Dutchman answered in the nativetongue, "It is well."
After drawing their boat up the shore and putting out the fire, the menlistened again for any sounds of hostile movements, and when Van Vurenwas reassured as to their safety the party set off along animperceptible trail, following their Cayuga guide, who strode rapidlytowards the cover of the forest.
At the end of an hour's march they drew near the camp and perceived theglow of the council fire. The boles of the trees became ruddy, andthey smelt the acrid smoke which curled upward in wreaths to find anoutlet through the solid-looking roof of foliage, There was novegetation below. Splintered stumps projected stiffly from theconifers; sometimes a fallen trunk lay across the way; the peaty groundwas soft with pine needles. A fox barked monotonously in the distance.Occasionally a gust of wind passed with a sigh and a gentle strainingat the mast-like firs.
The party stepped into a clearing, and Van Vuren halted nervously,tightening the sash which secured his doublet at the waist. Nine menappeared before him, seated under a protection of skins stretchedtightly across a framework of boughs, the whole forming a lean-to whichmight readily be moved, either to break the force of the wind or toafford shelter from rain. The men squatted cross-legged, the majoritynaked to the waist and shining with fish-oil, a few wrapped inblankets, the heads of all covered with fur caps adorned with pieces ofwhite metal or black feathers. Only one man was painted, and he showednothing more than a triangular patch of red upon his forehead, the apexof the triangle making a line with the bridge of his nose. This manwas smoking, and did not put down his pipe when the strangers arrived.The smoking was indeed a compliment, being the symbolic pipe of peace.
The nine were sachems of the great Iroquois tribes who in combinationheld the north of the continent: the Cayugas, Oneidas, Mohawks,Onondagas, and Senacas. The smoker was Shuswap, headman of theCayugas, father of Onawa and Tuschota, and the chief doctor, one whoprofessed to understand the language of the beasts, and knew how tohold communion with the dead. He looked up, drawing the stem of hispipe from his thin lips, and spoke:
"Do the white men, who come to us from the world where the sun nevershines, speak to us now words of peace or of war?"
Van Vuren moved awkwardly when he saw the grave hairless faces peeringat him through the hot vapour of the fire. At that moment the fatsailor from New Netherlands reached the clearing, panting like a dog.He presently interpreted the question, and his leader answered: "Tellthe chief that we come from a world where the days are long, and wherethe same sun that warms this country shines from morn till night."
"That were waste of breath," muttered the seaman, who had none tospare, and he said instead to the council of nine: "The white chief hascome in peace to seek the aid of the sun's children that he mayoverthrow his enemies."
"A people have taken my children to be their servants," said Shuswap."That people armed the enemies of my race against me. Is the white manfriendly with that people?"
"The French of whom the great sachem speaks are my enemies also,"replied Van Vuren through the interpreter. "I would drive them fromthe land, and dwell here in peace beside my allies the great tribes ofthe Iroquois."
The crafty Dutchman reflected that, when the flag of the Netherlandswaved over the heights, it would be easy to hold the Indians in theforest with a warship upon the St. Lawrence and a few cannon frowningfrom the cliff.
"The white man has called us into council," went on Shuswap. "Whatdoes he ask of us?"
At that the Hollander played his hand boldly. "I ask you to send yourfighting-men against the French when I give the signal. I will sinkthe provision ship which lies upon the river, while your men sweep overthe heights and capture the fortress. So shall you be avenged uponyour enemies, the men who armed the Algonquins against you."
"It is well said," answered the council of nine.
"What signal will you give, that we may know when to make our attack?"said Shuswap.
"A raft of fire floating down the river."
The headman removed his eyes from the Dutchman and turned to consulthis colleagues. They conferred for some minutes, without passion,without animation, apparently with no feeling of interest. Their faceswere set, and they spoke with only faint motions of their lips.
"We will bring our children," said the old sachem at last. "When thefire is seen along the Father of Waters we shall make ourselves ready."
He bent forward, raised a short stick from the centre of the councilfire, and held it out in his brown fingers, then dashed the brandsuddenly upon the ground, and dreamily watched the upward flight ofsparks.
"So let our enemies fly before us," he muttered.
"The sparks fly outward," said the sachem of the Oneidas.
"The Frenchmen shall not be able to stand before the children of thesun," they muttered with one voice.
The pipe was passed round with terrible solemnity, every Indian andDutchman drawing once at the stem and handing it to his neighbour, andthen the Hollanders left the clearing to return, well satisfied withtheir night's work.
It wanted yet three hours to the first breaking of the dawn, and thenight was as dark as ever when the seven men came out upon the rocks,where they could hear the faint whisper of the river. There the Indianguide left them, and the Dutchmen, flushed with success, laughed andtalked loudly, knowing that they were separated from the hearing of theFrench settlement by more than a mile of rock and bush. Advancing insingle file, they came to the thicket of willow beside which they hadleft their boat.
"Is all well?" called Van Vuren, who walked at the end of the line.
As he spoke there fell a storm out of the night; a thun
der of voices;the lightning of flashing swords; a rush of dark bodies around theboat. In the thick darkness all became confusion on the side of theattacked.
"English!" shouted Van Vuren; and, as the long body of the Puritandescended upon him, the master turned and fled, without honour, butwith a whole skin. Only the stout seaman shared his leader's privilegeof a run for his life, but him the far-striding legs of Hough pursued,covering two feet to the Dutchman's one. The wretch sweated andgroaned as he flung out his aching legs, his great body heaving andstaggering as cold as ice. He swore and prayed to God in one breath.He promised a life of service to the Deity, a treasure in the Indies tothe pursuer; but prayer and promise availed him little. The mutilatedman pressed upon him, and it was only the almost tangible darknesswhich prolonged his life for a few more agonised seconds. Then Houghbounded within reach, lunged fairly, pressing home when he felt flesh,and the fat Dutchman emitted a violent yell, and his big carcase rolledupon the rocks, his head settled, his mouth grinned spasmodically, hislimbs twitched, and then he lay at ease, staring more blindly than everinto the night. Out of the six conspirators who had set forth thatnight, Van Vuren was the only man to escape with his life.
"Cast me these bodies into the river," said Penfold, wiping his sword."But, stay. It were a pity to waste so much good clothing. Strip themfirst, lads. Naked they came into the world, and naked let them goout."
The bodies were denuded of their clothes and weapons. Five splashesshivered the face of the river, and then the Englishmen laid hands uponthe boat and drew her down to the water. But an idea had occurred toPenfold, and he called a halt.
"We have the current to row against, and the night may break before wereach the ship," he said. "Let us disguise ourselves, so that Frenchand Dutch alike may regard us as friends in the dimness of the morning.Here are five suits of Dutch clothing. There are five of us. We shallfight the easier in such loose-fitting trunks."
"Methinks they that fear the Lord have no need to adopt a cunningdevice," protested the Puritan.
"What know we about the ways of the Lord?" said his leader. "Does theLord grant the victory to him who runs? Does He not rather send him asword into his coward's back? The Lord, I tell you, helps that man whois the most subtle in devising schemes through which he may overthrowhis enemies. A murrain on these garments! I shall be as a child whenhe has put on his father's trappings for the bravery of the show."
Already a grey-dark mist spread along the river where the night cloudswere dissolving at the first light touch of the fingers of the day.The adventurers had but an hour for their project before the coming ofthe first light.