The Masters of the Peaks: A Story of the Great North Woods

by Joseph A. Altsheler

  CHAPTER IX

  THE SIGN OF THE BEAR

  Robert returned with Langlade to the partisan's camp at the edge of theforest adjoining that of the main French army, where the Indian warriorshad lighted fires and were cooking steaks of the deer. He was disposed tobe silent, but Langlade as usual chattered volubly, discoursing of Frenchmight and glory, but saying nothing that would indicate to his prisoner themeaning of the present military array in the forest.

  Robert did not hear more than half of the Owl's words, because he wasabsorbed in those of Montcalm, which still lingered in his mind. Why shouldthe Marquis wish to send him to France, and to have him treated, when hewas there, more as a guest than as a prisoner? Think as he would he couldfind no answer to the question, but the Owl evidently had been impressed byhis reception from Montcalm, as he treated him now with distinguishedcourtesy. He also seemed particularly anxious to have the good opinion ofthe lad who had been so long his prisoner.

  "Have I been harsh to you?" he asked with a trace of anxiety in his tone."Have I not always borne myself toward you as if you were an importantprisoner of war? It is true I set the Dove as an invincible sentinel overyou, but as a good soldier and loyal son of France I could do no less. Now,I ask you, Monsieur Robert Lennox, have not I, Charles Langlade, conductedmyself as a fair and considerate enemy?"

  "If I were to escape and be captured again, Captain Langlade, it is mysincere wish that you should be my captor the second time, even as you werethe first."

  The Owl was gratified, visibly and much, and then he announced a visitor.Robert sprang to his feet as he saw St. Luc approaching, and his heartthrobbed as always when he was in the presence of this man. The chevalierwas in a splendid uniform of white and silver unstained by the forest. Histhick, fair hair was clubbed in a queue and powdered neatly, and a smallsword, gold hilted, hung at his belt. He was the finest and most gallantfigure that Robert had yet seen in the wilderness, the very spirit andessence of that brave and romantic France with which England and hercolonies were fighting a duel to the death. And yet St. Luc always seemedto him too the soul of knightly chivalry, one to whom it was impossible forhim to bear any hostility that was not merely official. His own hand wentforward to meet the extended hand of the chevalier.

  "We seem destined to meet many times, Mr. Lennox," said St. Luc, "inbattle, and even under more pleasant conditions. I had heard that you werethe prisoner of our great forest ranger, Captain Langlade, and that youwould be received by our commander-in-chief, the Marquis de Montcalm."

  "He made me a most extraordinary offer, that I go as a prisoner of war toParis, but almost in the state of a guest."

  "And you thought fit to decline, which was unwise in you, though to beexpected of a lad of spirit. Sit down, Mr. Lennox, and we can have ourlittle talk in ease and comfort. It may be that I have something to do withthe proposition of the Marquis de Montcalm. Why not reconsider it and go toFrance? England is bound to lose the war in America. We have the energy andthe knowledge. The Indian tribes are on our side. Even the powerfulHodenosaunee may come over to us in time, and at the worst it will becomeneutral. As a prisoner in France you will have no share in defeat, butperhaps that does not appeal to you."

  "It does not, but I thank you, Chevalier de St. Luc, for your manykindnesses to me, although I don't understand them. Your solicitude for mywelfare cannot but awake my gratitude, but it has been more than once asource of wonderment in my mind."

  "Because you are a young and gallant enemy whom I would not see come toharm."

  Robert felt, however, that the chevalier was not stating the true reason,and he felt also with equal force that he would keep secret in the face ofall questions, direct or indirect, the motives impelling him. St. Luc askedhim about his life in the Indian village with Langlade, and then came backpresently to Paris and France, which he described more vividly than evenMontcalm had done. He seemed to know the very qualities that would appealmost to Robert, and, despite himself, the lad felt his heart leap more thanonce. Paris appeared in deeper and more glowing colors than ever as thecity of light and soul, but he was firm in his resolution not to go thereas a prisoner, if choice should be left to him. St. Luc himself becameenamored of his own words as he spoke. His eyes glowed, and his tone tookon great warmth and enthusiasm. But presently he ceased and when he laugheda little his laugh showed a slight tone of disappointment.

  "I do not move you, Mr. Lennox," he said. "I can see by your eye that yourwill is hardening against my words, and yet I could wish that you wouldlisten to me. You will believe me when I say I mean you only good."

  "I am wholly sure of it, Monsieur de St. Luc," said Robert, trying to speaklightly, "but a long while ago I formed a plan to escape, and if I shouldgo to France it would interfere with it seriously. It would not be so easyto leave Paris, and come back to the province of New York, and while I amin North America it is always possible. I informed Captain Langlade that Imeant to escape, and now I repeat it to you."

  The chevalier laughed.

  "Time will tell," he said. "Your ambition to leave is a proper andpatriotic motive on your part, and I should be the last to accuse it. But'tis not easy of accomplishment. I betray no military secret when I sayour army marches quickly and you will, of necessity, march with us. CaptainLanglade will still keep a vigilant watch over you, and you may be inreadiness to depart tomorrow morning."

  Robert slept that night in Langlade's little section of the camp, but,before he went to sleep, he spent much time wondering which way they wouldgo when the dawn came. Evidently no attack upon Albany was meant, as theywere too far west for such a venture, and he had reason to believe, also,that with the coming of spring the Colonials would be in such posture ofdefense that Montcalm himself would hesitate at such a task. He madeanother attempt to draw the information from Langlade, but failed utterly.Garrulous as he was otherwise, the French partisan would give no hint ofhis general's plans. Yet he and his warriors made obvious preparations forbattle, and, before Robert went to sleep, a gigantic figure stalked intothe firelight and regarded him with a grim gaze. The young prisoner's backwas turned at the moment, but he seemed to feel that fierce look, beatinglike a wind upon his head, and, turning around, he looked full into theeyes of Tandakora.

  The huge Ojibway was more huge than ever. Robert was convinced that he wasthe largest man he had ever seen, not only the tallest, but the broadest,and the heaviest, and his very lack of clothing--he wore only a belt,breech cloth, leggings and moccasins--seemed to increase his size. His vastshoulders, chest and arms were covered with paint, and the scars of oldwounds, the whole giving to him the appearance of some primeval giant,sinister and monstrous. He carried a fine, new rifle of French make and twodouble barreled pistols; a tomahawk and knife swung from his belt.

  Robert, nevertheless, met that full gaze firmly. He shut from his mind whathe might have had to suffer from Tandakora had the Ojibway held him acaptive in the forest, but here he was not Tandakora's prisoner, and he wasin the midst of the French army. Centering all his will and soul into theeffort he stared straight into the evil eyes of the Indian, until those ofhis antagonist were turned away.

  "The Owl has a prisoner whom I know," said Tandakora to Langlade.

  "Aye, a sprightly lad," replied the partisan. "I took him before the wintercame, and I've been holding him at our village on Lake Ontario."

  "It was he who, with the Onondaga, Tayoga, and the hunter, Willet, whom wecall the Great Bear, carried the letters from Corlear at New York toOnontio at Quebec. The nations of the Hodenosaunee call him Dagaeoga, andhe is a danger to us. I would buy him from you. I will send to you for himfifty of the finest buffalo robes taken from the great western plains."

  "Not for fifty buffalo robes, Tandakora, no matter how fine they are."

  "Ten packs of the finest beaver skins, fifty in each pack."

  "It's no use to bid for him, Tandakora. I don't sell captives. Moreover, hehas passed out of my hands. I have had my reward for him. His fate restsnow
with the Chevalier de St. Luc and the Marquis de Montcalm."

  The Ojibway's face showed foiled malice. "It is a snake that the Owl warmsin his bosom," he said, and strode away. The partisan followed him withobservant eyes.

  "It is evident that the Ojibway chief bears you no love, young MonsieurLennox," he said. "Now that you have served the purposes for which I heldyou I wish you no harm, and so I bid you beware of Tandakora."

  "Your advice is good and well meant, and for it I thank you," said Robert;"but I've known Tandakora a long time. My friends and I have met him inseveral encounters and we've not had the worst of them."

  "I judged so by his manner. All the more reason then why you should bewareof him. I repeat the warning."

  Robert was not bound, and he was permitted to roll himself in a blanket andsleep with his feet to the fire, an Indian on either side of him. Savewhere a space had been cleared for the French army, the primeval forest,heavy in the foliage of early spring, was all about them, and the wind thatsang through the leaves united with the murmuring of a creek, beside whichLanglade had pitched his camp.

  Slumber was slow in coming to Robert. Too much had occurred for hisfaculties to slip away at once into oblivion. His interview with Montcalm,his meeting with St. Luc, and the appearance of Tandakora at the campfire, stirred him mightily. Events were certainly marching, and, while hetried to coax slumber to come, he listened to the noises of the camp andthe forest. Where the French tents were spread, men were softly singingsongs of their ancient land, and beyond them sentinels in neat uniformswere walking back and forth among trees that had never beheld uniformsbefore.

  The sounds sank gradually, but Robert did not yet sleep. He found apeculiar sort of interest in detaching these murmurs from one another, thestamp of impatient horses, the moving of arms, the last dying, notes of asong, the whisper of the creek's waters, and then, plainly separate fromthe others, he heard a faint, unmistakable swish, a noise that he knew,that of an arrow flying through the air. Langlade knew it too, and sprangup with an angry cry.

  "Now, has some warrior got hold of whiskey to indulge in this madness?" heexclaimed.

  The faint swish came a second time, and Robert, who had risen to his feet,saw two arrows standing upright in the earth not twenty feet away. Langladesaw them also and swore.

  "They must have come in a wide curve overhead," he said, "or they would notbe standing almost straight up in the earth, and that does not seem likethe madness of liquor."

  He looked suspiciously at the forest, in which Indian sentinels had beenposted, but which, nevertheless, was so dark that a cunning form mightpass there unseen.

  "There is more in this than meets the eye," muttered the partisan, anddrawing the arrows from the earth he examined them by the light of thefire. Robert stood by, silent, but his eyes fell on fresh marks with aknife, near the barb on each weapon, and the great pulse in his throatleaped. The yellow flame threw out in distinct relief what the knife hadcut there, and he saw on each arrow the rude but unmistakable outline of abear.

  The Owl might not determine the meaning of the picture, but the captivecomprehended it at once. It was the pride of Tayoga that he was of the clanof the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the great League of theHodenosaunee, and here upon the arrows was his totem or sign of the Bear.It was a message and Robert knew that it was meant for him. Had ever a mana more faithful comrade? The Onondaga was still following in the hope ofmaking a rescue, and he would follow as long as Robert was living. Oncemore the young prisoner's hopes of escape rose to the zenith.

  "Now what do these marks mean?" said the partisan, looking at the arrowssuspiciously.

  "It was merely an intoxicated warrior shooting at the moon," repliedRobert, innocently, "and the cuts signify nothing."

  "I'm not so sure of that. I've lived long enough among the Indians to knowthey don't fire away good arrows merely for bravado, and these are plantedso close together it must be some sort of a signal. It may have beenintended for you."

  Robert was silent, and the partisan did not ask him any further questions,but, being much disturbed, sent into the forest scouts, who returnedpresently, unable to find anything.

  "It may or it may not have been a message," he said, speaking to Robert, inhis usual garrulous fashion, "but I still incline to the opinion that itwas, though I may never know what the message meant, but I, CharlesLanglade, have not been called the Owl for nothing. If it refers to youthen your chance of escape has not increased. I hold you merely fortonight, but I hold you tight and fast. Tomorrow my responsibility ceases,and you march in the middle of Montcalm's army."

  Robert made no reply, but he was in wonderful spirits, and his elationendured. His senses, in truth, were so soothed by the visible evidence thathis comrade was near that he fell asleep very soon and had no dreams. TheFrench and Indian army began its march early the next morning, and Robertfound himself with about a dozen other prisoners, settlers who had beenswept up in its advance. They had been surprised in their cabins, or theirfields, newly cleared, and could tell him nothing, but he noticed that themarch was west.

  He believed they were not far from Lake Ontario, and he had no doubt thatMontcalm had prepared some fell stroke. His mind settled at last uponOswego, where the Anglo-American forces had a post supposed to be strong,and he was smitten with a fierce and commanding desire to escape and take awarning. But he was compelled to eat his heart out without result. WithFrench and Indians all about him he had not the remotest chance and,helpless, he was compelled to watch the Marquis de Montcalm march to whathe felt was going to be a French triumph.

  Swarms of Indian scouts and skirmishers preceded the army and Canadianaxmen cut a way for the artillery, but to Robert's great amazement theseoperations lasted only a short time. Almost before he could realize it theyhad emerged from the deep woods and he looked again upon the vast, shiningreaches of Lake Ontario. Then he learned for the first time that Montcalm'sarmy had come mostly in boats and in detachments, and was now united forattack. As he had surmised, Oswego, which the English and Americans hadintended to be a great stronghold and rallying place in the west, was themenaced position.

  Robert from a hill saw three forts before the French force, the largeststanding upon a plateau of considerable elevation on the east bank of theriver, which there flowed into the lake. It was shaped like a star, and thefortifications consisted of trunks of trees, sharpened at the ends, drivendeep into the ground, and set as close together as possible. On the westside of the river was another fort of stone and clay, and four hundredyards beyond it was an unfinished stockade, so weak that its own garrisonhad named it in derision Rascal Fort. Some flat boats and canoes lay in thelake, and it was a man in one of these canoes who had been the first tolearn of the approach of Montcalm's army, so slender had been theprecautions taken by the officers in command of the forts.

  "We have come upon them almost as if we had dropped from the clouds," saidLanglade, exultingly, to Robert. "When they thought the Marquis de Montcalmwas in Montreal, lo! he was here! It is the French who are the greatleaders, the great soldiers and the great nation! Think you we would allowourselves to be surprised as Oswego has been?"

  Robert made no reply. His heart sank like a plummet in a pool. Already heheard the crackling fire of musketry from the Indians who, sheltered in theedge of the forest, were sending bullets against the stout logs of FortOntario, but which could offer small resistance to cannon. And while thesharpshooting went on, the French officers were planting the batteries, oneof four guns directly on the strand. The work was continued at a great paceall through the night, and when Robert awoke from an uneasy sleep, in themorning, he saw that the French had mounted twenty heavy cannon, which soonpoured showers of balls and grape and canister upon the log fort. He alsosaw St. Luc among the guns directing their fire, while Tandakora's Indianskept up an incessant and joyous yelling.

  The defenders of the stockade maintained a fire from rifles and severalsmall cannon, but it did little harm in the attacking
army and Robert wassoldier enough to know that the log walls could not hold. While St. Lucsent in the fire from the batteries faster and faster, a formidable forceof Canadians and Indians led by Rigaud, one of the best of Montcalm'slieutenants, crossed the river, the men wading in the water up to theirwaists, but holding their rifles over their heads.

  Tandakora was in this band, shouting savagely, and so was Langlade, butRobert and the other prisoners, left under guard on the hill, saweverything distinctly. They had no hope whatever that the chief fort, orany of the forts, could hold out. Fragments of the logs were already flyingin the air as the stream of cannon balls beat upon them. The garrison madea desperate resistance, but the cramped place was crowded withwomen--settlers' wives--as well as men, the commander was killed, and atlast the white flag was hoisted on all the forts.

  Then the Indians, intoxicated with triumph and the strong liquors they hadseized, rushed in and began to ply the tomahawk. Montcalm, horrified, usedevery effort to stop the incipient butchery, and St. Luc, Bourlamaque and,in truth, all of his lieutenants, seconded him gallantly. Tandakora and hismen were compelled to return their tomahawks to their belts, and then theFrench army was drawn around the captives, who numbered hundreds andhundreds.

  It was another French and Indian victory like that over Braddock, though itwas not marked by the destruction of an army, and Robert's heart sank lowerand lower. He knew that it would be appalling news to Boston, to Albany andto New York. The Marquis de Montcalm had justified the reputation thatpreceded him. He had struck suddenly with lightning swiftness and withterrible effect. Not only this blow, but its guarantee of others to come,filled Robert's heart with fear for the future.

  The sun sank upon a rejoicing army. The Indians were still yelling anddancing, and, though they were no longer allowed to sink their tomahawks inthe heads of their defenseless foes, they made imaginary strokes with them,and shouted ferociously as they leaped and capered.

  Robert was on the strand near the shore of the lake, and wearied by hislong day of watching that which he wished least in the world to see, he satdown on a sand heap, and put his head in his hands. Peculiarly sensitive toatmosphere and surroundings, he was, for the moment, almost without hope.But he knew, even when he was in despair, that his courage would come back.It was one of the qualities of a temperament such as his that while hemight be in the depths at one hour he would be on the heights at the next.

  Several of the Indians, apparently those who had got at the liquor, werecareering up and down the sands, showing every sign of the blood madnessthat often comes in the moment of triumph upon savage minds. Robert raisedhis face from his hands and looked to see if Tandakora was among them, buthe caught no glimpse of the gigantic Ojibway. The French soldiers who wereguarding the prisoners gazed curiously at the demoniac figures. They wereof the battalions Bearn and Guienne and they had come newly from France.Plunged suddenly into the wilderness, such sights as they now beheldfilled them with amazement, and often created a certain apprehension. Theywere not so sure that their wild allies were just the kind of allies theywanted.

  The sun set lower upon the savage scene, casting a dark glow over theruined forts, the troops, the leaping savages and the huddled prisoners.One of the Indians danced and bounded more wildly than all the rest. He wastall, but slim, apparently youthful, and he wore nothing except breechcloth, leggings and moccasins, his naked body a miracle of savage painting.Robert by and by watched him alone, fascinated by his extraordinary agilityand untiring enthusiasm. His figure seemed to shoot up in the air onsprings, and, with a glittering tomahawk, he slew and scalped an imaginaryfoe over and over again, and every time the blade struck in the air he letforth a shout that would have done credit to old Stentor himself. He rangedup and down the beach, and presently, when he was close to Robert, he grewmore violent than ever, as if he were worked by some powerful mechanismthat would not let him rest. He had all the appearance of one who had gonequite mad, and as he bounded near them, his tomahawk circling about hishead, the French guards shrank back, awed, and, at the same time, notwishing to have any conflict with their red allies, who must be handledwith the greatest care.

  The man paused a moment before the young prisoner, whirled his tomahawkabout his head and uttered a ferocious shout. Robert looked straight intothe burning eyes, started violently and then became outwardly calm, thoughevery nerve and muscle in him was keyed to the utmost tension. "To thelake!" exclaimed the Indian under his breath and then he danced toward thewater.

  Robert did not know at first what the words meant, and he waited inindecision, but he saw that the care of the guards, owing to the confusion,the fact that the battle was over, and the rejoicing for victory, wasrelaxed. It would seem, too, that escape at such a time and place wasimpossible, and that circumstance increased their inattention.

  The youth watched the dancing warrior, who was now moving toward the water,over which the darkness of night had spread. But the lake was groaning witha wind from the north, and several canoes near the beach were bobbing upand down. The dancer paused a moment at the very edge of the water, andlooked back at Robert. Then he advanced into the waves themselves.

  All the young prisoner's indecision departed in a flash. The signal wascomplete and he understood. He sprang violently against the French soldierwho stood nearest him and knocked him to the ground. Then with three orfour bounds he was at the water's edge, leaping into the canoe, just asTayoga settled himself into place there, and, seizing a paddle, pushed awaywith powerful shoves.

  Robert nearly upset the canoe, but the Onondaga quickly made it regain itsbalance, and then they were out on the lake under the kindly veil of thenight. The fugitive said nothing, he knew it was no time to speak, becauseTayoga's powerful back was bending with his mighty efforts and the bulletswere pattering in the water behind them. It was luck that the canoe was alarge one, partaking more of the nature of a boat, as Robert could remainconcealed on the bottom without tipping it over, while the Onondagacontinued to put all his nervous power and skill into his strokes. It wasequally fortunate, also, that the night had come and that the dusk wasthick, as it distracted yet further the hasty aim of the French and Indianson shore. One bullet from a French rifle grazed Robert's shoulder, anotherwas deflected from Tayoga's paddle without striking it from his hand, butin a few minutes they were beyond the range of those who stood on the bank,although lead continued to fall in the water behind them.

  "Now you can rise, Dagaeoga," said the Onondaga, "and use the extra paddlethat I took the precaution to stow in the boat. Do not think because youare an escaped prisoner that you are to rest in idleness and luxury, doingno work while I do it all."

  "God bless you, Tayoga!" exclaimed Robert, in the fullness of his emotion."I'll work a week without stopping if you say so. I'm so glad to see youthat I'll do anything you say, and ask no questions. But I want to tell youyou're the most wonderful dancer and jumper in America!"

  "I danced and jumped so well, Dagaeoga, because your need made me do so.Necessity gives a wonderful spring to the muscles. Behold how long andstrong you sweep with the paddle because the bullets of the enemy impelyou."

  "Which way are we going, Tayoga? What is your plan?"

  "Our aim at this moment, Dagaeoga, is the middle of the lake, because thesons of Onontio and the warriors of Tandakora are all along the beach, andwould be waiting for us with rifle and tomahawk should we seek to land.This is but a small boat in which we sit and it could not resist the wavesof a great storm, but at present it is far safer for us than any land nearby."

  "Of course you're right, Tayoga, you always are, but we're in the thick ofthe darkness now, so you rest awhile and let me do the paddling alone."

  "It is a good thought, Dagaeoga, but keep straight in the direction we aregoing. See that you do not paddle unconsciously in a curve. We shallcertainly be pursued, and although our foes cannot see us well in the dark,some out of their number are likely to blunder upon us. If it comes to abattle you will notice that I have an extra
rifle and pistol for you lyingin the bottom of the canoe, and that I am something more than a suppledancer and leaper."

  "You not only think of everything, Tayoga, but you also do it, which isbetter. I shall take care to keep dead ahead."

  Robert in his turn bent forward and plied the paddle. He was not onlyfresh, but the wonderful thrill of escape gave him a strength far beyondthe normal, and the great canoe fairly danced over the waters toward thedusky deeps of the lake, while the Onondaga crouched at the other end ofthe canoe, rifle in hand, intently watching the heavy pall of dusk behindthem.

  Their situation was still dangerous in the extreme, but the soul of Tayogaswelled with triumph. Tandakora, the Ojibway, had rejoiced because he hadexpected a great taking of scalps, but the purer spirit of the Onondagasoared into the heights because he had saved his comrade of a thousanddangers. He still saw faintly through the darkness the campfires of thevictorious French and Indian army, and he heard the swish of paddles, buthe did not yet discern any pursuing canoe. He detached his eyes for amoment from the bank of dusk in front of him, and looked up at the skies.The clouds and vapors kept him from seeing the great star upon which hispatron saint, Tododaho, sat, but he knew that he was there, and that he waswatching over him. He could not have achieved so much in the face ofuttermost peril and then fail in the lesser danger.

  The canoe glided swiftly on toward the wider reaches of the lake, and theOnondaga never relaxed his watchfulness, for an instant. He was poised inthe canoe, every nerve and muscle ready to leap in a second into activity,while his ears were strained for the sounds of paddles or oars. Now herelied, as often before, more upon hearing than sight. Presently a soundcame, and it was that of oars. A boat parted the wall of dusk and he sawthat it contained both French and Indians, eight in all, the warriorsuttering a shout as they beheld the fugitive canoe.

  "Keep steadily on, Dagaeoga," said the Onondaga. "I have my long barreledrifle, and it will carry much farther than those of the foe. In anotherminute it will tell them they had best stop, and if they will not obey itsvoice then I will repeat the command with your rifle."

  Robert heard the sharp report of Tayoga's weapon, and then a cry from thepursuing boat, saying the bullet had found its mark.

  "They still come, though in a hesitating manner," said Tayoga, "and I musteven give them a second notice."

  Now Robert heard the crack of the other rifle, and the answering cry,signifying that its bullet, too, had sped home.

  "They stop now," said Tayoga. "They heed the double command." He rapidlyreloaded the rifles, and Robert, who saw an uncommonly thick bank of duskahead, paddled directly into the heart of it. They paused there a fewmoments and neither saw nor heard any pursuers. Tayoga put down the rifles,now ready again for his deadly aim, and the two kept for a long time astraight course toward the center of the lake.