CHAPTER XXX
We must go back for a very short time to the spot whence Edith and herOneida captors set out upon what proved to the latter an unfortunatevoyage across Lake Champlain, and to the very moment after their canoehad left the shore. The Long House, as the Five Nations were pleasedto call their territory, extended from the great lakes and a point farwest, to the banks of the Hudson and Lakes Huron and Champlain; but,as is always the case in border countries, the frontier was oftencrossed, both by wandering or predatory bands of Hurons and othernations under the sway of France, and by outlaws from the Iroquoistribes attached to England. The peculiar habits and laws of the Indiantribes rendered the incorporation of fugitives with other nations avery easy matter, although the language of the Five Nations would seemto be radically different from that of the tribes originallyinhabiting the seaboard of America. Indeed, on the western shore ofLake Champlain not a few pure Hurons were to be found; for that tribe,during the successful campaigns of France against England, with whichwhat is called the French and Indian war commenced, had somewhatencroached upon the Iroquois territory, supported in their daring bythe redoubted name of Montcalm.
With some of these, it would seem, Apukwa and his companions hadentered into a sort of tacit alliance, and toward their dwellings theyhad directed their steps after their attack upon Edith and her littleescort, in the expectation of readily finding a canoe to waft themover the lake. At first they had been disappointed, for the barkswhich had been there the day before were gone; and when they did findthe canoe in which they ultimately commenced their voyage, theavaricious old man to whom it belonged would not let them use itwithout a world of bargaining; and it cost them a considerable portionof the little stock of ornaments and trinkets which they had found inEdith's plundered baggage, before the Huron consented to lend themthat which they did not dare take by force.
Thus more than an hour was passed, after they reached the lake shore,before they departed; and their taking their course so boldly acrossthe bows of the French boats was more a matter of necessity thanchoice, although they little doubted a good reception from theinveterate enemies of England. No sooner, however, had the canoe shotout into the water than the figure of a tall, dark woman emerged fromthe bushes of the low point under which the skiff had lain, and shebegan wringing her hands with every appearance of grief and anxiety.
"O, what will poor massa do!" she cried, in a piteous voice. "Whatwill poor massa do! Him son killed, him daughter stolen, and Chaudotomahawked! Ah, me! ah, me! What will we all do?"
Her imprudent burst of grief had nearly proved destructive to poorSister Bab. The old Huron had turned him quietly toward a small birchbark cabin in the forest hard by, and would never have remarked thepoor negress if she had confined the expression of her cares to meregesture; but her moans and exclamations caught the quick ear of thesavage, and he turned and saw her plainly, gazing after the canoe.With no other provocation than a taste for blood, he stole quietlythrough the trees, with the soft, gliding, noiseless motion peculiarto his race, and making a circuit so as to conceal his advance, hecame behind the poor creature just as she beheld the canoe which boreaway her young mistress stopped and surrounded by the little flotillaof the French. Another moment would have been fatal to her, for theIndian was within three yards, when a large rattlesnake suddenlyraised itself in his path and made him recoil a step. Whetherattracted by the small, but never-to-be-forgotten sound of thereptile's warning, or some noise made by the Huron in suddenly drawingback, the poor negress turned her head and saw her danger.
With a wild scream she darted away toward the lake, The savage sprangafter her with a yell, and though old he retained much of the Indianlightness of foot. Onward toward the shore he drove her, meditatingeach moment to throw his hatchet if she turned to the right or left.But Sister Bab was possessed of qualities which would not havedisgraced any of his own tribe, and even while running at her utmostspeed she contrived continually to deprive him of his aim. Not a tree,not a shrub, not a mass of stone that did not afford her a momentaryshelter, and of every inequality of the ground she took advantage. Nowshe whirled sharply round the little shoulder of the hill; now, as thetomahawk was just balanced to be thrown with more fatal certainty, shesprang down a bank which almost made the Indian pause. Then sheplunged head foremost, like a snake, through the thick brushwood, andagain appeared in a different spot from that where he had expected tosee her.
Still, however, he was driving her toward the lake, at a spot wherethe shores were open, and where he felt certain of overtaking her. Onshe went, however, to the very verge of the lake, gazed to the rightand left, and seeing with apparent consternation that the banksrounded themselves on both sides, forming a little bay, near thecenter of which she stood, she paused for a single instant, as if indespair. The Huron sprang after with a wild whoop, clutching thetomahawk firmly to strike the fatal blow.
But Sister Bab was not yet in his grasp, and with a bold leap shesprang from the ledge into the water. Her whole form instantlydisappeared, and for at least a minute her savage pursuer stood gazingat the lake in surprise and disappointment, when suddenly he saw ablack object appear at the distance of twenty or thirty yards, andsuddenly sink again. A few moments after it rose once more, stillfarther out, and then the brave woman was seen striking easily awaytoward the south.
Rendered only more eager by the chase, and more fierce bydisappointment, the Huron ran swiftly along the shore, thinking thathe could easily tire her out or cut her off; but, in sunny waters infar distant lands, she had sported with the waves in infancy, andtaking the chord of the bow where he was compelled to take the arc,she gained in distance what she lost in speed. So calm was she, socool, that turning her eyes from her pursuer, she gazed over the waterin the direction where she had seen her beloved young mistresscarried, and had the satisfaction of beholding the canoe towed alongby one of the French boats. Why she rejoiced she hardly knew, for hernotions on such matters were not very definite; but anything seemedbetter than to remain in the hands of the murderers of poor Chaudo.
Her thoughts were still of Edith, and she asked herself: "Where arethey taking her to, I wonder. Perhaps I may come up with them if thatredskin would but leave off running along by the shore and let me landand cross the narrow point. He may run the devil foot. He can't catchBab. I'll dive again. He think her drowned."
Her resolution was instantly executed; and whether it was that herstratagem was successful, or that the Huron had less than Indianperseverance and gave up the chase, when she rose again she saw himturning toward the woods, as if about to go back to his lodge. But Babhad learned caution, and she pursued her way toward the smallpeninsula where stood the French fort of Crown Point, which at theperiod I speak of had been nearly stripped of its garrison toreinforce Ticonderoga. She chose her spot, however, with great care,for though in her wanderings she had made herself well acquainted withthe country, she was, of course, ignorant of the late movements of thetroops, and fancied that the French posts extended as far beyond thewalls of the fortress as they had formerly done. A little woodyisland, hardly separated from the mainland, covered her approach, andthe moment her feet touched the shore she darted away into the forestand took the trail which led nearly due south. The neck of the pointwas soon passed, and once more she caught sight of the French boatsstill towing the canoe on which her thoughts so particularly rested.
The short detention of the French party, and the advantage she gainedby her direct course across the point, had put her a little inadvance, and she ran rapidly on till she reached the mouth of thesmall river now called Putnam's Creek, which, being flooded by thetorrents of rain that had fallen in the earlier part of the day, madeher pause for a moment, gazing at the rushing and eddying waterscoming down, and doubting whether she had strength left to swim acrossit. The boats, by this time, were somewhat in advance, and when shegazed after them she naturally came to the conclusion that they werebound for what she called, after the Indian fashion, Cheeonderoga.Suddenly,
however, as she watched, she saw their course altered, andit soon became evident that they intended to land considerably northof the fort. Running up the creek, then, till she found a place whereshe could pass, she followed an Indian trail through the woods, lyinga little to the west of the present line of road, and at lengthreached an eminence nearly opposite to Shoreham--a spur of Mount Hope,in fact--when she once more caught a view of the lake, just in time tosee the disembarkation of the French troops and the Indians.
Notwithstanding her great strength, the poor negress was by this timeexceedingly tired; but still that persevering love which is one of thebrightest traits of her unfortunate race, carried her on. "If I cancatch sight of them again," she thought, "I can carry ole massatidings of where she is."
Encouraged by this idea, she pushed on without pause; but nightovertook her before she had seen any more of the party, and poor Bab'sspirit began to fail. More slowly she went, somewhat doubtful of herway, and in the solitude, the darkness, and the intricacy of thewoods, fears began to creep over her which were not familiar to herbosom. At length, however, she thought she heard voices at a distance,and a minute or two after she found herself on the bank of a smallbrook. She paused and listened. The voices were now more audible, andwithout hesitation she crossed and crept cautiously along in thedirection from which the sounds came.
A moment or two after, the flickering of a fire through the treesattracted her attention, and more and more carefully she crept on uponher hands and knees, through the low brush, still seeing the blaze ofthe firelight, when she raised her eyes, but unable to perceive thespot whence it proceeded. A small pine, cut down, next met her hand asshe crept along, and then a number of loose branches tossed together;and now Sister Bab began to get an inkling of the truth. "It must bewhat dey call an ambush," she thought, and raising herself gently, shefound that she was close to a bank of earth over which the firelightwas streaming. The sounds of voices were now distinctly heard, but shecould not understand one word, for it seemed to her that they werespeaking in two different languages, if not more, but each of them wasstrange to her.
At one time she fancied she heard Edith's voice, but still thelanguage spoken was a strange one, and although the bank of earth wasnot more than shoulder high, she did not venture at first to rise toher whole height in order to look over it. At length, however, camesome words of English, and the voice, which she judged to be Edith's,was plainly heard, saying: "This gentleman is asking you, my goodfriend, if you will not go and take some supper with him where thepeople have spread a cloth yonder." Bab could resist no more, butraised herself sufficiently to bring her eyes above the top of thebreastwork, and gazed over into the little rude redoubt.
On the right, and at the farther part of the enclosure, were a numberof Indians seated on the ground; and, besides the fire alreadyburning, several others were being piled up amidst the various groupsof natives. Somewhat on the left, and stretching well nigh across thewestern side of the other space, were the French soldiers, in groupsof five or six, with their arms piled near them. Other stragglingparties were scattered over the ground, and two sentinels, with musketon shoulder, appeared on the other side of the redoubt; but the groupwhich attracted the poor woman's chief attention was on her right,near a spot where some small huts had been erected. It consisted ofthree persons, a gaily dressed French officer, a man in the garb of asoldier, but with his arms cast aside, and lastly, a short, powerfulman, in a yellowish-brown hunting shirt, whom Sister Bab at oncerecognized as her old acquaintance the Woodchuck. That sight was quiteenough, and sinking down again amongst the bushes, she crept slowlyaway to a little distance, and there lay down to meditate as to whatwas next to be done.
At one time she was tempted to enter the French redoubt and remainwith her young mistress. Several considerations seemed in favor ofthis course; and let it be no imputation upon poor Bab that hunger andthe savory odors which came wafted over the earthwork were not withouttheir influence. But then she thought: "If I do, how will ole Massaever know where Missy is?" and this remembrance enabled her to resistthe strong temptation. "I will stay here and rest till the moon getup," thought the poor woman. "I know dey must be coming up de lake bydis time, and I can catch dem before to-morrow."
To prevent herself from sleeping too long if slumber should overtakeher, she crept farther out of the thick wood and seated herself in amore open spot, with her clasped hands over her knees, but withnothing else to support her.
Various sorts of fears suggested themselves to her mind as she thussat; but oppressive weariness was more powerful than thought, and in afew moments her head was nodding.
Often she woke up during the first hour, but then she slept moreprofoundly, bending forward till her forehead touched her knees. It isprobable, too, that she dreamed, for in the course of the next twohours several broken sentences issued from her lips in a low murmur.At length, however, she woke with a start, and found the moonsilvering the whole sky to the eastward, where some bold heightstowered up, still obscuring the face of the orb of night. She sat andgazed somewhat bewildered, hardly knowing where she was. But themusical voice of the falling waters, which have gained for the outletof Lake Horicon an ever enduring name, and the grand outline of MountDefiance seen through the trees, soon showed her that she was on thatnarrow point of land lying between Front Brook and the falls.
She waited till the moon had fully risen, and then stole quietly awayagain, keeping a southwestern course nearly up the current of thebrook, and for three hours she pursued her way with a rapid anduntiring foot. She had no idea of the time, and wondered if the daywould never break. But the moonlight was beautifully clear, and thecalm beams, as if they had some affinity with the woodland solitude,seemed to penetrate through the branches and green leaves even moreeasily than can the sunshine. Her fears had now nearly passed away,for she knew that she must be far beyond the French and Huron posts,and could only expect to meet with the scouts and outposts of theEnglish army, or with parties of friendly Indians, and sheconsequently went on without care or precaution. Suddenly she foundherself emerging from the wood into one of those low, open savannas,of which I have already spoken, close to the spot where the embers ofa fire were till glowing. The grass was soft and her tread was light,but the sleep of the Indian is lighter still, and in an instant threeor four warriors started up around her.
"I am a friend! I am a friend!" cried the negress in the Iroquoistongue. "Who be you--Mohawks?"
"Children of the Stone," replied the man nearest to her, gazing at herearnestly by the moonlight. "I have seen the Dark Cloud before, butdoes she not dwell in the house of our brother Prevost?"
"Yes, yes!" cried Sister Bab, eagerly. "I'm his slave girl, Bab, whocame to the Oneida Castle with my own Missy. But now she is theprisoner of bad men, and I have escaped, tired and hungry, and amnearly dead!"
"Come with me," said the Indian. "I will take thee where thou shalthave rest to comfort thee and meat to support thee, till the BlackEagle come. He will not be long, for he will keep the warpath nightand day till he is here, and his wings are swift."
The poor woman shuddered at the name of the terrible chief, for it wasclosely connected in her mind with the circumstances of her youngmaster's fate; but wearied and exhausted, the prospect of food andrepose was a blessing, and she followed the Indian in silence to theother side of the savanna.