CHAPTER XXXII
Day dawned bright and clear over the wild woods, the green savannas,and the lakes and mountains that lay between Horicon or Lake Georgeand the small chain of Indian lakes. The advanced party of the Oneidaswere up bustling with the earliest beam--bustling, but in their quietway. Each was active, clearing away every trace of their sojourn fromthe face of the savanna as far as possible, and preparing to betakehimself to the shade of the neighboring woods; but Sister Bab wasstill sound asleep. Amongst those who have traveled over that part ofthe country there may be some who remember a beautiful and rich greenmeadow, extending for almost a third of a mile from its inlandextremity to the shores of Horicon. It has now--and it is not muchaltered since the time I speak of--a sloping ground to the northwardof this grassy plot, well covered with wood, and there is on the southa rocky but still wooded bank, in which several small caves are to beobserved. In one of these caves lay the negress, on the morning I havejust mentioned, and though the Indians moved about in differentdirections, and removed even a large iron pot of European workmanship,which had been placed near the entrance of the cavern, the good woman,in the sleep of fatigue and exhaustion, showed no sign whatever ofwaking.
Few had been the explanations which she had given on the precedingnight. She was too weary to indulge in her usual loquacity, and herIndian friend had sat quietly before her, after having supplied allthat she required, seeing her eat and drink, but putting no questions.
Now, however, he approached the hollow in the rock, and after gazingat her for an instant as she lay, he moved her with his moccasinedfoot. She started up and rubbed her eyes, looking round with evidentsurprise; but the Indian said: "Get up and follow into the woods, ifthou wouldst see the Black Eagle. We must leave the ground that has noshadow, now that the day has come."
"Ah, me!" cried Sister Bab. "What shall I do for my poor Missy? She isa prisoner with the French, not more than a few miles hence, and, whatis worse still, the Woodchuck is with her, and all our people said hewas going to give himself up to save Massa Walter."
Quietly and deliberately the Indian seated himself on the ground, andremained silent for a moment or two. He then asked, without theslightest appearance of interest: "Where is the daughter of Prevost?Is she at the Castle of the Sounding Waters?"
Sister Bab replied, "No"; and, as far as she could describe it,explained to her companion where Edith was, and gave him no veryinaccurate notion of the sort of field-work on which she had stumbledthe night before. Still not a muscle of the man's face moved, and hemerely uttered a sort of hum at this intelligence, sitting for fulltwo minutes without speaking a word.
"What can we do, brother, to save them?" asked Sister Bab, at length."I don't think there's any danger indeed, to Missy or Massa Woodchuck,'cause the young man in the blue coat seemed very civil; but den ifMassa Woodchuck not get away, your people will kill Massa Walter, forsix months will be over very soon."
"Five days ago six moons had grown big and small since the Black Eaglespoke," said the Indian, gravely. "But we will see whether there benot a trail the prisoners can tread. You must get up and walk beforeme to where you left them, like a cloud upon the mountain side,quickly, but without noise."
"It's a long way," said the poor woman, "and my feet are all cut andtorn with yesterday's ramble."
"We will give thee moccasins," answered the Indian. "The way is notlong, even to the house of the Sounding Waters, if you keep the trailstraight. Thou must show me if thou wouldst save Prevost's daughter.Her fate is like a toppling stone upon the edge of a precipice--a windmay blow it down. The French Hurons do not spare women. Come, get up;eat, and talk not! I must know this place, and that quickly!"
The last words were spoken somewhat sternly; and Sister Bab rose upand followed to one of the little groups of Indians, where she seatedherself again, and ate some cakes of maize, and dried deer's flesh,while the chief who had been speaking with her held a consultationwith several of the other warriors. Not much time was allowed her forher meal, for in less than five minutes she was called upon to leadthe way, and, followed by a party of six Indians, she proceeded for amile or two, till they reached a spot where the trail divided intotwo. She was about to take the left-hand path, knowing that it was theone which she had followed on the preceding night, but the chiefcommanded her, in a low voice, to turn her steps upon the other,adding: "We shall come upon thy footprints again speedily."
So indeed it proved, for she had wandered during the night far fromthe direct course; and after walking on for some ten minutes they cutinto the former path again, where to Indian eyes the traces of a negrofoot were very apparent.
Twice the same thing occurred, and thus the distance was shortened tonearly one-half of that which she had traveled on the preceding night,between the little masked redoubt of the French and the Indian campingplace.
At length the objects which Sister Bab saw around her gave warningthat she was approaching the spot of which they were in search. Fromtime to time Mount Defiance was seen towering upon the right, and thecharacter of the shrubs and trees was changed. The first hint sufficedto make the Indians adopt much greater precautions than those whichthey had previously used. They spread wide from the broad trail, thechief taking Sister Bab with him, and slowly and noiselessly theypursued their way, taking advantage of every tree and every rock tohide behind and gaze around.
Before five minutes more were over, Sister Bab paused suddenly andpointed forward. The Indian gazed in silence. To an unpracticed eyenothing would have been apparent to excite the slightest suspicion ofa neighboring enemy, but some of the pine branches of what seemed alow copse in front were a shade yellower than the other trees.Besides, they did not take the forms of young saplings. They wererounder, less tapering, without showing shoot or peak.
A grin came upon the Indian's countenance, and pointing with hisfinger to the ground he seemed, without words, to direct the negressto remain on the same spot where she stood, behind a great butternuttree. He then looked round him for his companions, but their movementswere well combined and understood. Though at some distance from eachother, each eye from time to time had been turned toward him as theyadvanced; and the moment it was perceived that he stopped, each of theothers stopped, also. His raised hand brought them all creepingquietly toward him, and then, after a few whispered words, each Indiansank down upon the ground, and creeping along like a snake,disappeared amongst the bushes.
Sister Bab found her situation not altogether pleasant. The slightestpossible rustle in the leaves was heard as her dusky companionsdisappeared, but then all sounds ceased, except from time to time,when the wind, which had risen a little, bore her some murmurs fromthe redoubt, as if of voices speaking. Once she caught a few notes ofa merry air, whistled by lips that were probably soon after doomed toeverlasting silence. But that was all she heard, and the stillnessgrew oppressive to her. After waiting for a moment or two, she soughta deeper shelter than the butternut tree afforded, and crept amongstsome thick shrubs at the foot of a large oak. She thought her Indiancompanions would never return, but at length one of the redmen lookedout from the bushes, and then another, and both gazed round as if insearch of her. Following their example, she crept forth, and thechief, approaching, beckoned her away, without speaking.
When far enough off to be quite certain that no sound of voices couldreach the redoubt, he stopped suddenly and gazed in her face, saying:"You love the daughter of the paleface; you followed her when therewas danger. Will you go where there is no danger, to bear her thewords of warning?"
"I will go anywhere to do her any good," answered the woman, warmly."I am not afraid of danger. I had enough of it yesterday to make mecareless of it to-day."
"Well, then," said the chief, "thou seest this trail to the left.Follow it till it crosses another. Then take to the right on the oneit crosses--it is a broad trail, thou canst not miss it. It will leadthee straight into the Frenchman's ambush. They will not hurt thee.Ask for the daughter of the paleface Prevos
t. Tell them thou hastpassed the night in the woods, seeking for her, and they will let theestay with her. Say to her she shall have deliverance before the sunhas set to-morrow, but tell her when she hears the war-whoop and theshot of the rifle to cast herself down flat on the ground beneath theearth heap, if she be near at the time. She knows the Oneida people;she can tell their faces from the Hurons, though the war paint bebright upon them. She need not fear them. Tell her secretly, when nonehears; and what I tell her to do, do thou, if thou wouldst save thylife!"
"But," said Bab, with more foresight than the Indian, "perhaps theywill not keep her there till to-morrow. They may send her into thefort--most likely will."
"Bid her stay! bid her stay!" said the chief. "If they force her away,I have no arm to hold her. Go on! I have said!"
The negress shook her head, as if much doubting the expediency of theplan proposed, but she obeyed without further remonstrance, andwalking on upon the little narrow path which the Indians pointed out,she reached, in about a quarter of an hour, the broader trail, alongwhich Edith had been taken on the preceding night. Turning to theright, as directed, she followed it with slow and somewhat hesitatingsteps, till suddenly a sharp turn brought her in sight of twosentinels pacing backward and forward, and a group of Indians seatedon the ground round a fire, cooking their food. There she haltedsuddenly, but she was already seen, and receiving no answer to hischallenge, one of the sentinels presented his musket as if to fire. Atthe same moment a voice exclaimed: "What's that? What's that?" inFrench, and a man in the garb of a soldier, but unarmed, came forwardand spoke to her.
She could make no reply, for she did not understand a word he said,and taking her by the wrist, the man led her into the redoubt, sayingto the sentinel with a laugh: "It's only a black woman; did you takeher for a bear?"
The next instant poor Bab beheld her young mistress quietly seated onthe ground, with a fine white tablecloth spread before her, and allthe appurtenances of a breakfast table, though not the table itself,while the officer she had seen in the redoubt the night before wasapplying himself assiduously to supply her with all she wanted. In amoment the good woman had shaken her wrist from the man who held it,and darting forward, she caught Edith's hand and smothered it withkisses.
Great was Edith's joy and satisfaction to see poor Bab still in life,and it was soon explained to the French officer who she was and howshe came thither. But the object of her coming had nearly beenfrustrated before she had time to explain to her young mistress thepromised rescue; for ere she had been half an hour within the works anon-commissioned officer from Ticonderoga appeared with a despatch forthe commander of the party, who at once proposed to send the younglady and her dark attendant under his charge to the fortress,expressing gallantly his regret to lose the honor and pleasure of hersociety; but adding that it would be for her convenience and safety.
The suggestion was made before he opened the despatch, and Editheagerly caught at a proposal which seemed to offer relief from a veryunpleasant situation; but as soon as the officer had seen the contentsof his letter his views were changed, and he explained to his youngprisoner that for particular reasons the commander-in-chief thought itbest that there should be as little passing to and fro, during theperiod of daylight, between the fortress and the redoubt as possible.He would, therefore, he said, be obliged to inform his superiorofficer, in the first place, of her being there, and of thecircumstances in which she had fallen under his protection, as hetermed it, adding that probably after nightfall, when the sameobjection could not exist, he would receive instructions as to whatwas to be done, both with herself and her companions, and with theIndians in whose power he had found her.
He then sat down to write a reply to the despatch he had received, andoccupied fully half an hour in its composition, during which time allthat Sister Bab had to say was spoken. The very name of the Oneidas,however, awakened painful memories in Edith's breast, andnotwithstanding all the assurances she had received from Otaitsa, herheart sank at the thought of poor Walter's probable fate. She turnedher eyes toward Woodchuck, who had refused to take any breakfast, andsat apart under a tree not far from the spot where Apukwa and hiscompanions, kept in sight constantly by a sentinel, were gatheredround their cooking fire. His attitude was the most melancholy thatcan be conceived; his eyes were fixed upon the ground, his headdrooping, his brow heavy and contracted, and his hands claspedtogether on his knee. Edith moved quietly toward him and seatedherself near, saying: "What is the matter, my good friend?" and thenadded, in a low voice: "I have some pleasant news for you."
Woodchuck shook his head sadly, but made no answer; and Edithcontinued, seeking to cheer him: "The poor negro woman who was with mewhen we were attacked escaped the savages, it seems, and has broughtan intimation that before to-morrow's sunset we shall be set free by alarge party of the Oneidas."
"It is too late, my dear! It is too late!" replied Woodchuck, pressinghis hands tightly together. "Too late to do anything for your poorbrother! It was him I was thinking of!"
"But there are still four or five days of the time," said Edith,"and----"
"I've been a fool, Miss Prevost," replied Woodchuck, bitterly, "andthere's no use of concealing it from you. I have mistaken moons formonths. The man who brought me the news of what that stern old devilBlack Eagle had determined, said the time allowed was six months, andI never thought of the Indians counting their months by moons till Iheard those Honontkoh saying something about it this morning. No, no,it's all useless now! It's all useless!"
Edith turned deathly pale, and remained so for a moment or two, butthen she lifted her eyes to a spot of the blue sky shining through thetrees above, and with a deep sigh she answered: "We must trust in God,then, and hope He has provided other and less terrible means. He canprotect and deliver according to His will, without the aid orinstrumentality of man. You have done your best, Woodchuck, and yourconscience should rest satisfied."
"No! no!" he answered, bitterly. "If I had but thought of what I knewquite well, I should have gone a fortnight sooner, and the poor boywould have been saved. It's all the fault of my stupid mistake. A manshould make no mistakes in such emergencies, Miss Edith!"
He fell into a fit of thought again, and seeing that all attempt tocomfort him was vain, Edith returned to the side of the black woman,and inquired eagerly if she had heard any tidings of Walter amongstthe Oneidas.
Sister Bab was more cautious than poor Woodchuck had been, however,and denied stoutly having heard anything; adding that she could notthink they had done any harm to her young "massa," or they would notbe so eager to help her young "missy."
The smallest gleam of hope is always a blessing; but still the daypassed sadly enough to poor Edith. The commandant of the redoubt wasoccupied with military business which she did not comprehend, andwhich afforded no relief to her thoughts even for a moment. She sawthe soldiers parading, the sentinels relieved, the earthworksinspected, and the Indians harangued, without one thought beingwithdrawn from the painful circumstances of her own fate.
Shortly after dusk, however, the same sergeant who had brought thedespatch in the morning appeared with another letter, which the Frenchcommandant read, and then carried to Edith in the little hut where shewas seated, with her lamp just trimmed and lighted. "The Marquis ofMontcalm informs Captain Le Comtois that it will be greatlyinconvenient to receive any additional mouths into Fort Carillon.Should he think fit, he can send the lady who has fallen into hishands, with the English gentleman, her companion, back to Crown[4]Point or Fort St. Frederick, as early to-morrow as he thinks fit. Ifthe lady earnestly prefers to retire to Fort Carillon at once, theMarquis of Montcalm will not be so wanting in courtesy as to refuse;but he begs to warn her that she may be subjected to all theinconveniences of a siege, as he cannot at all tell what course ofoperations the enemy may think fit to pursue. The Indians, if willing,as they say, to serve may be usefully employed within the redoubt, butwith caution, and must not be suffered to operate upon the flanks, asusual.
"
"It is for you to say, mademoiselle," said Monsieur Le Comtois,"whether you will now go to the fort or not."
Edith, however, declined, saying that the reasons given by Monsieur deMontcalm were quite sufficient to induce her to remain till it wasconvenient to send her elsewhere; and thus ended that eventful week.The following day was Sunday, a day not fit to be desecrated by humanstrife, but one which was destined to behold, on that very spot, oneof those bloody scenes which write man's shame in letters of bloodupon the page of history.