The Road to Frontenac Read online

  CHAPTER XVII.

  NORTHWARD.

  Weak and chilled from the long swim through the cold water theydragged themselves across the narrow beach to the bushes that hungover the bank. Menard and Father Claude supported the maid, who wastrembling and clinging to them. At the bank she sank to the ground.

  "It is hard, Mademoiselle, but we must not stop. It is better to beweary than to rest in this condition. It would mean sickness."

  "Yes," she said; "I know. In a moment I can go on." She looked up andtried to smile. "It is so cold, M'sieu."

  Menard turned to Teganouan.

  "How far is it to the villages of the Cayugas?"

  "Not far. Half a sleep."

  "Is there a trail?"

  "The trail is far. It passes the end of the Long Lake." He raised hishead and looked at the stars, then pointed to the southwest. "Thenearest village lies there. If we go through the forest toward thesetting sun, we shall meet the trail."

  "You think it will be wise to go to the Cayugas, M'sieu?" asked FatherClaude.

  "I think so. The chiefs must have returned before this time, or atleast by the morrow." He dropped into the Iroquois tongue. "Is notthis so, Teganouan? Would the chiefs of the Cayugas linger among theOnondagas after the close of the council?"

  "The Cayuga warriors await the word of the Long House. They know thattheir chiefs would hasten to bring it back to them."

  "Yes. It must be so, Father. And we can trust them to aid us. Perhapsthey will give us a canoe. Teganouan must tell them he is our guide,sent by the Big Throat and the chiefs of the Onondagas to take ussafely to Frontenac."

  The maid was struggling to keep awake, but her lids were heavy. Menardcame to her and stood, hesitating. She knew that he was there; shecould hear the rustle of his wet clothes, and his heavy breathing, butshe did not look up.

  "Come," he said, lightly touching her shoulder, "we cannot wait here.We must go."

  She did not reply, and he hesitated again. Then he stooped and liftedher in his arms.

  "You will go ahead, Teganouan," he said, "and you, too, if you will,Father Claude. Choose an easy trail if you can, and be careful that notwig flies back."

  They set out slowly through the forest. The priest and the Indianlaboriously broke a way, and Menard followed, holding the maidtenderly, and now and then, in some lighter spot where a beam ofmoonlight fell through the foliage, looking down at her gentle, wearyface. She was sleeping; and he prayed that no sad dreams might come tosteal her rest. His arms ached and his knees gave under him, but hehad hardly a thought for himself. At last, after a long, silent march,the priest stopped, and said, supporting himself with one thin handagainst a tree:--

  "You are weary, M'sieu. You must let me take Mademoiselle."

  "No, Father, no. I have been thinking. I am afraid it is not rightthat she should sleep now. Even though she fail in the effort,exercise of her muscles is all that will prevent sickness. And yet Icannot,"--he looked again at her face as it rested against hisshoulder,--"I cannot awaken her now."

  The Father saw the sorrow in the Captain's eyes, and understood.

  "I will take her, M'sieu."

  Carefully Menard placed her in Father Claude's arms and turned away.

  "Teganouan," he said, trying to recover his self-possession, "shouldwe not be near the trail?"

  "Yes, more than half the way."

  "Can we reach it more quickly by heading a little to the north?"

  "We would reach the trail, yes; but the way would be longer."

  "Never mind; once on the trail it will be easier than in this forest.Turn to the north, Teganouan."

  He could hear the maid's voice, protesting sleepily, and Father Claudetalking quietly to her. He looked around. The priest said in a lowtone:--

  "Come, M'sieu, it is hard to awaken her."

  "We must frighten her, then."

  He caught her shoulders and shook her roughly. Slowly her eyes opened,and then the two men dragged her forward. At first she thought herselfback among the Onondagas, and she begged them not to take her away,hanging back and forcing them almost to carry her. It cut Menard tothe heart, but he pushed steadily forward. Later she yielded, and witha dazed expression obeyed. Once or twice she stumbled, and would havefallen but for the strong hands that held her. Father Claude restedhis hand on her forehead as they walked, and Menard gave him ananxious, questioning glance. The priest shook his head.

  "No," he said, "there is no fever. I trust that it is nothing worsethan exhaustion."

  Menard went on with relief in his eyes.

  In less than half an hour after reaching the trail, they came upon theoutlying huts of the village. Over the hills to the east the dawn wasbreaking, and all the sleeping birds and beasts and creeping things ofthe forest were stirring into life and movement. Teganouan went aheadof the party and soon roused a member of the Cayuga branch of hisclan, the family of the Bear. Through the yawning services of thiswarrior they were guided to an unused hut. Teganouan searched farther,and returned with a heap of blankets for the maid, who had dropped tothe ground before the hut. Menard carried her within and made her ascomfortable as possible, then withdrew and closed the door.

  "Have the chiefs returned from the council at the village of theOnondagas?" he asked of the warrior, who stood at one side watchingthem with curiosity in his gaze.

  The Cayuga bowed.

  "Will my brother carry a message from the White Chief, the BigBuffalo, to his chiefs? Will he tell them, as soon as the sun hasrisen, that the Big Buffalo has come to talk with them?"

  The warrior bowed and walked away.

  "We are safe now, I think, Father. We must get what little sleep wecan between now and sunrise."

  "Should not one of us watch, M'sieu?"

  "We are not fit for it. We have hard work before us, and many a chanceyet to run."

  "Teganouan will watch," said the Indian.

  Menard's face showed surprise, but Father Claude whispered, "He haslearned at the mission to understand our language."

  They lay on the ground before the hut, in their wet clothes, and in amoment were asleep. Teganouan built a fire close at hand, and sat byit without a motion, excepting the alert shifting glances of hisbead-like eyes, until, when the colours in the east had faded intoblue and the sun was well above the trees, he saw the chiefs of thevillage coming slowly toward him between the huts, a crowd of youngmen following behind them, and a snarling pack of dogs running before.He aroused Menard and Father Claude.

  The chiefs sat in a circle about the fire, the two white men amongthem. The other Indians sat and stood in a wider circle, just withinearshot, and waited inquisitively for the White Chief to state hiserrand.

  "My brothers, the white men, have asked to speak with the chiefs ofthe Cayugas," said the spokesman, a wrinkled old warrior, whom Menardrecognized as one of the speakers at the Long House.

  "The Big Buffalo is on his way to the stone house of Onontio. He isfar from the trail. His muskets and his knives and hatchets were takenfrom him by the Onondagas and were not returned to him. He asks thatthe chiefs of the Cayugas permit him to use one of their many canoes,that he may hasten to carry to Onontio the word of the Long House."

  "The White Chief comes to the Cayugas, who live two sleeps away fromtheir brothers, the Onondagas, to ask for aid. Have the Onondagas thenrefused him? Why is my brother so far from the trail?"

  "The chiefs of the Cayugas sat in the Long House; they heard the wordsof the great council, that the Big Buffalo and the holy Father and thewhite maiden should be set free. They know that what is decided in thecouncil is the law of the nation, that no warrior shall break it."

  The little circle was silent with attention, but none of the chiefsreplied.

  "It was still in the dark of the night when the Big Throat came to thelodge of the Big Buffalo, and gave him the pledge of the council thathe should be free with the next sun. The Big Buffalo once learned tobelieve the pledge of the Iroquois. When the mighty Big Throat saidt
hat he was free, he believed. He did not set a guard to sit withwakeful eyes through the night in fear that the pledge was not true.No, the Big Buffalo is a warrior and a chief; he is not a woman. Hetrusted his red brothers, and rested his head to sleep. Then in thedark came a chief, a dog of a traitor, and took away his white brotherand his white sister while their eyes were still heavy with sleep, andcarried them far over the hills to the lake of the Cayugas. Here theyhid like serpents in the long grass, and thought that they would killthem. But the Big Buffalo is a warrior. Without a knife or a musket ora hatchet he killed the Long Arrow and came across the Long Lake. Heknew that the Cayugas were his brothers, that they would not break thepledge of the Long House."

  The grave faces of the Indians showed no surprise, save for a slightmovement of the eyes on the part of one or two of the younger men,when the Long Arrow was mentioned. Most of them had lighted theirpipes before sitting down, and now they puffed in silence.

  "The White Chief speaks strangely," the spokesman said at last. "Hetells the Cayugas that their brothers, the Onondagas, have broken thepledge of the council."

  "Yes."

  "He asks for aid?"

  "No," said Menard, "he does not ask for aid. He asks that the Iroquoisnation restore to him what the dogs of the Long Arrow have taken away.He has spoken to the Long House in the voice of the Great Mountain. Hehas the right of a free man, of a chief honoured by the council, to gofreely and in peace. What if those who do not respect the law of thecouncil shall rob him of his rights? Must he go on his knees to thechiefs? Must he ask that he be allowed to live? Must he go far back onhis trail to seek aid of the Onondagas, because the Cayugas will nothold to the law?"

  One of the great lessons learned during Menard's work under GovernorFrontenac had been that the man who once permits himself to be loweredin the eyes of the Indians has forever lost his prestige. Now he satbefore the chiefs of a great village, weak from the strain of the longdays and nights of distress and wakefulness and hunger, his clothingstill wet and bedraggled, with no weapon but a knife, no canoe, not tospeak of presents,--with none of the equipment which to the Indianmind suggested authority,--and yet made his demands in the stern voiceof a conqueror. He knew that these Indians cared not at all whetherthe word of the council to him had been broken or kept, unless hecould so impress them with his authority that they would fearpunishment for the offence.

  "The Big Buffalo is a mighty warrior," said the spokesman. "His hardhands are greater than the muskets and hatchets of the Cayugas. Hefights with the strength of the winter wind; no man can stand wherehis hand falls. He speaks wisely to the Cayugas. They are sorry thattheir brothers, the Onondagas, have so soon forgotten the word of thegreat council, Let the Big Buffalo rest his arms. The warriors of theCayugas shall be proud to offer him food."

  They all rose, and after a few grunted words of friendship, filed awayto go over the matter in private council. Menard saw that they werepuzzled; perhaps they did not believe that he had killed the LongArrow. He turned to Teganouan, who had been sitting a few yards away.

  "Teganouan, will you go among the braves of the village and tell themthat the Big Buffalo is a strong fighter, that he killed the LongArrow with his hands? It may be that they have not believed."

  This was the kind of strategy Teganouan understood. He walked slowlyaway, puffing at his pipe, to mingle among the people of the villageand boast in bold metaphors the prowess of his White Chief.

  "They will give us a canoe," said Father Claude.

  "Yes, they must. Now, let us sleep again."

  They dropped to the ground, and Menard looked warningly at the circleof young boys who came as close as they dared to see this strangewhite man, and to hear him talk in the unpronounceable language.Father Claude's eyes were first to close. The Captain was about tojoin him in slumber when a low voice came from the door.

  "M'sieu."

  He started up and saw the maid holding the door ajar and leaningagainst it, her pale face, framed in a tangle of soft hair, showingtraces of the wearing troubles of the days just passed.

  "Ah, Mademoiselle, you must not waken. You must sleep long, and rest,and grow bright and young again."

  She smiled, and looked at him timidly.

  "I have been dreaming, M'sieu," she said, and her eyes dropped, "suchan unpleasant dream. It was after we had crossed the lake--We didcross it, M'sieu, did we not? That, too, was not a dream? No--see, myhair is wet."

  "No," he said, "that was not a dream."

  "We were on the land, and I was so tired, and you talked tome--something good--I cannot remember what it was, but I know that youwere good. And I thought that I--that I said words that hurt you,unkind words. And when I wished and tried to speak as I felt, only theother words would come. That was a dream, M'sieu, was it not? It hasbeen troubling me. You have been so kind, and I could not sleepthinking that--that--"

  "Yes," he said, "that was a dream."

  She looked at him with relief, but as she looked she seemed to becomemore fully awake to what they were saying. Her eyes lowered again, andthe red came over her face.

  "I am glad," she said, so low that he hardly heard.

  "And now you will rest, Mademoiselle?"

  She smiled softly, and drew back within the hut, closing the heavydoor. And Menard turned away, unmindful of the wide-eyed boys who werestaring from a safe distance at him and at the door where the strangewoman had appeared. He sat with his back against the logs of the hut,and looked at the ants that hurried about over the trampled ground.

  The sun was high when he was aroused by Teganouan, who had spent thegreater part of the morning among the people of the village.

  "Have you any word, Teganouan?"

  "Yes. The warriors have learned of the strength of the Big Buffalo,and his name frightens them. They bow to the great chief who haskilled the Long Arrow without a hatchet. They say that the Onondagasshould be punished for their treachery."

  "Good."

  "Teganouan has been talking long with a runner of the Seneca nation."

  "Ah, he brings word of the fight?"

  "Yes. The Senecas have suffered under the iron hand of the GreatMountain. A great army takes up the hatchet when he goes on thewar-path, more than all the Senecas and Cayugas and Onondagas togetherwhen every brave who can hold in his hand a bow or a musket has cometo fight with his brothers. There were white warriors so many that therunner could not have counted them with all the sticks in the LongHouse. There were men of the woods in the skins and beads of theredmen; there were Hurons and Ottawas and Nipissings, and even thecowardly Illinois and the Kaskaskias and the Miamis from the landwhere the Great River flows past the Rock Demons. The Senecas foughtwith the strength of the she-bear, but their warriors were killed,their corn was trampled and cut, their lodges were burned."

  "Did the Great Mountain pursue them?"

  "He has gone back to his stone house across the great lake, leavingthe land black and smoking. The Senecas have come to the westernvillages of the Cayugas."

  "There are none in this village?"

  "No. But the chiefs have sent blankets to their brothers, and as muchcorn as a hundred braves could carry over the trail. They have takenfrom their own houses to give to the Senecas."

  A few moments later two young men came with baskets of sagamity andsmoked meat. Menard received it, and rising, knocked gently at thedoor.

  "Yes, M'sieu,--I am not sleeping."

  He hesitated, and she came to the door and opened it.

  "Ah, you have food, M'sieu! I am glad. I have been so hungry."

  "Come, Father," said the Captain, and they entered and sat on the longbench, eating the smoky, greasy meat as eagerly as if it had beencooked for the Governor's table. Their spirits rose as the basketsemptied, and they found that they could laugh and joke about theirravenous hunger.

  The chiefs returned shortly after, and came stooping into the hut inthe free Indian fashion. The old chief spoke:--

  "The Big Buffalo has honoured the
lodges of the Cayugas; he has madethe village proud to offer him their corn and meat. It would maketheir hearts glad if he would linger about their fires, with the holyFather and the squaw, that they might tell their brothers of the greatwarrior who dwelt in their village. But the White Chief bears the wordof the Long House. He goes to the stone house to tell his whitebrothers, who fight with the thunder, that the Cayugas and theOnondagas are friends of the white men, that they have given a pledgewhich binds them as close as could the stoutest ropes of deerskin. Andso with sad hearts they come to say farewell to the Big Buffalo, andto wish that no dog may howl while he sleeps, that no wind may blowagainst his canoe, that no rains may fall until he rests with hisbrothers at the great stone house beyond the lake."

  "The Big Buffalo thanks the mighty chiefs of the Cayugas," repliedMenard. "He is glad that they are his friends. And when his mouth isclose to the ear of the Great Mountain, he will tell him that hisCayuga sons are loyal to their Father."

  The chief had lighted a long pipe. After two deliberate puffs, thefirst upward toward the roof of the hut, the second toward the ground,he handed it to Menard, who followed his example, and passed it to thechief next in importance. As it went slowly from hand to hand aboutthe circle, the Captain turned to the maid, who sat at his side.

  "Do they mean it, M'sieu?" she whispered.

  For an instant a twinkle came into his eye; she saw it, and smiled.

  "Careful," he whispered.

  Before she could check the smile, a bronze hand reached across to herwith the pipe. She started back and looked down at it.

  "You must smoke it," Menard whispered. "It is a great honour. Theyhave admitted you to their council."

  "Oh, M'sieu--I can't--" she took the pipe and held it awkwardly; then,with an effort, raised it to her mouth. It made her cough, and shegave it quickly to the Captain.

  The Indians rose gravely and filed out of the hut.

  "Come, Mademoiselle, we are to go."

  The smoke had brought tears to her eyes, and she was hesitating,laughing in spite of herself.

  "Oh, M'sieu, will--will it make me sick?"

  He smiled, with a touch of the old light humour.

  "I think not. We must go, or they will wonder."

  They found the chiefs waiting before the hut, Father Claude andTeganouan among them. As soon as they had appeared, the whole partyset out through the village and over a trail through the woods to theeastward. The ill-kept dogs played about them, and plunged, barking,through the brush on either side. Behind, at a little distance, camethe children and hangers-on of the village, jostling one another tokeep at the head where they could see the white strangers.

  When they reached the bank of the lake, they found two canoes drawn upon the narrow strip of gravel, and a half-dozen well-armed braveswaiting close at hand. The chief paused and pointed toward thecanoes.

  "The Cayugas are proud that the White Chief will sail in their canoesto the land of the white men. The bravest warriors of a mighty villagewill go with them to see that no Onondaga arrow flies into their campby night."

  He signalled to a brave, who brought forward a musket and laid it,with powder-horn and bullet-pouch, at the Captain's feet.

  "This musket is to tell the Big Buffalo that no wild beast shalldisturb his feast, and that meat in plenty shall hang from thesmoking-pole in his lodge."

  The canoes were carried into the water and they embarked,--Menard, themaid, and two braves in one, Father Claude and four braves in theother. They swung out into the lake, the wiry arms and shoulders ofthe canoemen knotting with each stroke of the paddles; and the crowdof Indians stood on the shore gazing after until they had passed fromview beyond a wooded point.

  A few hours should take them to the head of the lake. They had reachedperhaps half the distance, when Menard saw that two of his canoemenhad exchanged glances and were looking toward the shore. He glancedalong the fringe of trees and bushes, a few hundred yards distant,until his eyes rested on three empty canoes. He called to FatherClaude's canoe, and both, at his order, headed for the shore. As theydrew near, half a score of Indians came from the brush.

  "Why," said the maid, "there are some of the men who brought us to thelake."

  "Yes," replied Menard, "it is the Long Arrow's band."

  He leaped out of the canoe before it touched the beach, and walkedsternly up to the group of warriors. He knew why they were there. Itwas what he had expected. When they had discovered the death of theLong Arrow there had been rage and consternation. Disputes hadfollowed, the band had divided, and a part had crossed the lake tohunt the trail of the Big Buffalo. He folded his arms and gave them along, contemptuous look.

  "Why do the Onondagas seek the trail of the Big Buffalo? Do they thinkto overtake him? Do they think that all their hands together arestrong enough to hold him? Did they think that they could lie to theWhite Chief, could play the traitor, and go unpunished?"

  Only one or two of the Onondagas had their muskets in their hands.They all showed fright, and one was edging toward the wood. TheCayugas in the canoes, at a word from Father Claude, had raised theirmuskets. Menard saw the movement from the corner of his eye, and forthe moment doubted the wisdom of the action. It was a question whetherthe Cayugas could actually be brought to fire on their Onondagabrothers. Still, this band had defied the law of the council, andmight, in the eyes of the Indians, bring down another war upon thenation by their act. While he spoke, the Captain had been deciding ona course. He now walked boldly up to the man who was nearest thebushes, and snatched away his musket. There was a stir and a murmur,but without heeding, he took also the only other musket in the party,and stepped between the Indians and the forest.

  "Stand where you are, or I will kill you. One man"--he pointed to ayouth--"will go into the forest and bring your muskets to thecanoes."

  They hesitated, but Menard held his piece ready to fire, and theCayugas did the same. At last the youth went sullenly into the bushesand brought out an armful of muskets.

  "Count them, Father," Menard called in French.

  The priest did so, and then ran his eye over the party on the beach.

  "There are two missing, M'sieu."

  Menard turned to the youth, who, though he had not understood thewords, caught their spirit and hurried back for the missing weapons.Then the Captain walked coolly past them, and took his place in thecanoe. For a long time, as they paddled up the lake, they could seethe Onondagas moving about the beach, and could hear their angryvoices.