Under Wolfe's Flag; or, The Fight for the Canadas

by Rowland Walker

  *CHAPTER VII*

  *OLD QUEBEC*

  The old town of Quebec in 1757 was a picturesque and romantic spot.Clusters of pretty white Canadian cottages, many of them surrounded bygardens and orchards, filled with apples, pears and vines, transplantedfrom Old France, lined the margins of the St. Charles River, and eventhe lower town, about the banks of the St. Lawrence. Half-a-hundredchurches and convents already raised their spires heavenward. The uppertown contained the governor's house, and many palatial edifices oftimber and stone, while high over all, the frowning citadel crowned thelofty eminence, looking down upon town and river.

  For over two hundred years the children of the French king had dwelthere, and no white men had as yet seriously disputed their possession ofthis mighty fortress, which was the key to half a continent; but thesands were running low. In her late wars with the sea-dogs of Britain,France had lost the command of the seas; her navies, her maritimecommerce had been well-nigh destroyed, and the sea-girt island, wheredwelt the sons of the Saxon and the Viking, had become the "Mistress ofthe Seas."

  The penalty to be paid by France for this was shortly to be the cessionof all her North American colonies to the victors, for she that hadfailed to command the narrow seas at home, could not hope to retain herEmpire abroad. Thus has it ever been with the citadel of Mansoul; theheart of the Empire. Make these impregnable, and all is well. Weakenthese, through slothfulness, carelessness or ease, and the borders ofthe Empire, like dead branches, are soon lopped away.

  As our heroes were compelled to remain in Quebec for some nine months ormore before they had an opportunity to leave, they did not grumble, butmade the most of their time. For the first three months they were moreor less the guests of Captain Alexandre, but after the _Sapphire_ put tosea again with a convoy, they entered the service of a Major Ridout, aretired army officer, who had become a fur-trader, which at that timewas a very lucrative business, and entailed an adventurous career.

  Major Ridout saw that they were two likely youths, who would be of greatservice, out in the wilds, collecting furs from the Indians. Thesedistant tribes dwelt hundreds of leagues in the forests, far away on theshores of the great lakes, which at this time were practically unknown,save by a few bold and reckless adventurers, who frequently paid dearlyfor their temerity.

  He promised them that when the spring unlocked the rivers and lakes,they should accompany him on his travels into the unknown forests andwilds of the interior, and as this was the only method that had as yetoffered them a chance of earning a living or making a fortune, theygladly accepted it. They were also anxious to leave Quebec, as measureswere already being concerted to prepare for a siege; for ugly rumourshad come to hand that Admiral Boscawen in command of a British squadronhad annihilated a French fleet, and captured a convoy destined forQuebec.

  Every preparation, therefore, was made by General Montcalm and hisassistants, lest they should be besieged by _ces Anglais perfides_. Thelads were, therefore, doubly anxious to leave the city, lest they shouldbe treated as prisoners of war, for refusing to take up arms againsttheir countrymen.

  During their stay here they had much leisure, and made many excursionsabout Quebec. Sometimes they paddled down stream in one of the major'scanoes and visited the Ile of Orleans, or the Falls of Montmorency, orup the rapid stream of the River Charles, to visit some of the friendlyIndians. One day they were returning down-stream from a visit to CapeRouge, some leagues above the city, on the St. Lawrence, where they hadbeen camping some three days, fishing for salmon and hunting the reddeer, when suddenly, and without the slightest warning, a fearful yellburst from a point of the southern bank, scarce a hundred yards away.

  "Indians!" exclaimed Jack, striking his paddle into the water with allhis might.

  "Iroquois!" said Jamie coolly.

  A shower of bullets and a flight of arrows flicked up the water aboutthe canoe.

  "Pull for your life, Jamie! They've been lying in wait for us. Luckywe didn't land there as we had intended."

  "Lucky indeed! They would have had our scalps by now, and they may havethem yet. Look there! One, two, three canoes! coming as fast as theycan. It's all over unless we can beat them."

  They were in a tight corner. They had been warned that the Iroquoiswere watching the river above Quebec, but they had never dreamt thatthey were so near.

  The Indians were gaining upon them, although they were flying rapidlydownstream. They had ceased to yell now, for the city was only twoleagues away, and they were straining every nerve to overtake the ladsbefore they could reach safety. An occasional bullet struck the canoe,but they did not look around, for they could hear the splash of theIroquois' paddles, and the sound seemed to come nearer and nearer.

  "I can do no more, Jack! My arm's still painful from the wound," andJamie drew in his paddle.

  "Hold on, Jamie! Don't give in. In another five minutes we shall beout of danger. There's the little cove where we've landed many a time,just there on the northern bank. If we can only reach that spot, we canquickly climb up to the heights, and the Indians will not dare to followus there. Hold on for another few minutes!"

  This was the only chance that offered an escape from the foe, and Jamie,despite his wound, which at times of great exertion still pained him,put in his paddle again. They were running rapidly down under theprecipitous northern bank now, and with a skilful twist of his paddleJack sent the nose of the canoe quickly ashore, right up on the narrowstrand, in the cove, at the foot of the cliffs.

  The Indians had perceived their intentions, and with a loud yell hadchanged their course to prevent them and cut them off. The first canoewas not a dozen yards away, and in another three seconds would have beenbeached alongside theirs, when Jack seized his rifle and, without takingany precise arm, fired point-blank into the canoe. It was loaded withheavy buck-shot, and the Iroquois at the steering paddle received halfthe contents of it.

  Nothing could have been better done had the aim been more skilfullytaken. The paddle dropped helplessly from his hand, and the rapidcurrent carried the canoe past the landing-point. A savage yell burstfrom every Indian within sight. The lads responded with a shout ofdefiance, and then, abandoning canoe, outfit, rifles and everything theypossessed, they leapt from the boat and swiftly climbed the steep andnarrow ascent, pulling themselves up by the roots and branches of treesthat grew on this precipitous bank.

  This clever and successful shot had gained them but a few seconds oftime, but they reached the summit unharmed, and after a brief pursuit,the Indians, who were getting too near the settlements, retired and gaveup the fruitless chase, and from the Heights of Abraham, as they lookeddown upon the river, they had the satisfaction of seeing their lateenemies pursued in turn by a party of Algonquins, the active allies ofthe French.

  Spring came at last, unlocking the rivers and the lakes, and thehalf-wild fur-traders, with their Indian guides, were already preparingto ascend the St. Lawrence, up past Mont Royale, and the ThousandIslands, across the great inland sea called Ontario, to the rude fort ofNiagara.

  Even here the fatiguing journey would not end, for after a briefrespite, they must shoulder their packages, and carry their longbirch-bark canoes over the rough portage that led past the mighty,thundering cataract of Niagara, near by the hunting-grounds of thefierce and warlike Senecas. Then they must place their canoes again onthe upper reaches of the swift Niagara River, and from thence enter LakeErie, pass the outposts of Presqu' Isle, Miami and Fort Detroit, to therivers, the lakes and the forts beyond, where in the surrounding foreststhe red man in all his primeval simplicity hunted, fished, lived anddied. Even to the far-off lands of the Kickapoos, the Ojibways and theWinnebagos these brave fur-traders often ventured, drawn partly by adesire for gain, and partly, no doubt, by the added spice of danger andadventure.

  Such, then, was the adventure to which our heroes were committed, assoon as the rivers were clear of the dangerous ice-f
loes, and theAlgonquin chief Wabeno arrived with a dozen of his braves to accompanythem as guides and scouts. Here was a prospect of adventure whichthrilled the lads, and they anxiously awaited the arrival of the chief,which was to be on the first day of the new moon. They were to have ashare in the enterprise, as a reward of their services.

  "Wake up, Jack! Here comes the chief, in all his warpaint, withmoccasins and deer-skin hunting-shirt, and with a girdle of scalpshanging from his belt," cried Jamie one morning, rushing into theapartment that served them both for sleeping purposes.

  "Hurrah!" cried his friend. "I'm coming. Are the canoes ready?"

  "Yes, they're all loaded up and waiting in the river, by the lowertown."

  "Glad we're leaving Quebec at last, aren't you? By all the preparationsthat the Governor's pushing forward, there's going to be a dreadfulfight here some day, and the side that wins will have Canada for aprize."

  "So you want to be out of the fighting, do you, old boy? That isn't abit like you."

  "Ah, don't misunderstand me, old fellow. I mean that I don't want to becooped up in here when the fighting takes place, because our fellowswill be outside. I wouldn't mind a hand in the storming, fighting underthe British flag, for although the French have been pretty good tous--at least, some of them--they didn't treat the rest of the _Duncan's_crew too well, when they shipped them all back to England in that leakyold tub."

  They had now reached the lower part of the town, and were approachingthe river by one of the narrow steep streets of which Quebec has somany, when Jamie, casting up a look at the frowning, embattled citadel,said--

  "That place will want some storming! A handful of brave men, wellsupplied with ammunition and provisions, might sit tight up there foryears, and defy the armies of the world."

  "You're right, Jamie, and yet, I confess, I'd like to see another flagup there, wouldn't you?"

  Turning to his companion, Jamie looked him full in the face, andreplied--

  "I would, Jack! And who knows? We may help to plant it there, someday. And, then, what would they think of us in Burnside?"

  "Ah, they'd forget that they once put us in the lock-up for taking a fewtrout, and they'd all turn out to welcome us home; or if we died they'dput a tablet to our memory in the old church. Ha! ha!" laughed Jack.

  At this point their conversation, which had been partly serious andpartly jocular, was interrupted by a sound somewhat unusual at thisearly hour, for it was only about five o'clock in the morning, and thesun had not long been risen. Sounds of laughter and much shoutinggreeted them, and the next moment they turned a corner and came upon the_voyageurs_, as these rough, half-wild fur-traders are called. A dozenor so of rough but sturdy Canadians were bidding good-bye to their wivesand sweethearts, though there seemed to be more excitement and laughterthan tears and sadness of farewell. These men, hard as nails, used tothe terrors of the wilderness, and the hardships of the forests, weredressed nearly like their Indian allies, who stood by--Wabeno and hisbraves.

  They wore fur caps, deer-skin hunting-shirts, moccasins and leggings,worked by the Indian squaws. They were all armed with rifles and longhunting-knives, and one or two of them, who were probably half-castes,carried tomahawks as well. Moored to the bank close beside them werethree very long canoes, loaded with all the requirements for a sixmonths' trading outfit, and ready to start.

  "_Ah, mes camarades! Voici ils vient_," cried Major Ridout, the leaderof the expedition, and then in loud, ringing tones, he shouted, "_Auxbateaux!_"--"To the boats!"

  In a moment the canoes were filled, Wabeno and three of his men enteringthe first, and the others distributing themselves as arranged. Therewere twenty-three all told, and the youths along with the leader, whowas a genial man, of great experience, born of a Canadian father and aScotch mother, entered the last boat, which was rather larger than theother two, and had several buffalo robes spread in the stern sheets.

  The last good-bye was said, and to the stirring notes of a Canadian boatsong, the rowers paddled away, and soon left their friends and theirhomes behind. Alas! how few of them were ever to see those homes orthose friends again.

  They were a merry party at present, however, and the Indians took turnswith the hardy _voyageurs_, as they paddled quickly against the rapidstream. The canoes were very light, being made of birch bark, for theyhad to be carried over rough and sometimes long portages. Yet they werevery strong and roomy, and at present were loaded so deeply that thewater was only a few inches below the gunwales.

  After two hours' hard work, pulling against the stream, the leader gavea quick, sharp command--

  "_A terre! A terre!_"

  This order to land for breakfast was obeyed with alacrity. Camp-fireswere lit. The "billies" were soon boiling, and a hearty meal ofpemmican and bread was washed down with a drink of water from the river.After an hour's rest, they continued their journey.

  That night they camped on the northern bank, in a little clearing of theforest, about thirty miles above Quebec. They had hardly yet approachedthe danger zone, though small parties of the Iroquois did sometimespenetrate thus far. A watch was set, however, and campfires werepermitted, and after supper the men chatted and laughed and smoked.Then a song was called for--a song with a chorus. And while the flamesfrom the burning logs lit up the surrounding pines, one after anothertrolled forth a song, and the _voyageurs_ took up the chorus, till thewoods resounded with their voices, and the creatures of the forest musthave wondered what strange beings these were that disturbed theirhaunts.

  The Indians looked on at all this merriment with stoic countenances, asthough they disapproved of such light-heartedness, but at last one ofthe men cried out--

  "Wabeno! Give us a war-dance!"

  Instantly the expression of every Indian changed. Wabeno readilyacceded to the request. A post was driven into the ground, and a circleformed around it. A few minutes sufficed to arrange their flutteringfeathers and scalp-locks, and to paint their faces with red ochre andwhite lead. Then, suddenly, Wabeno, their chief, with a loud,blood-curdling yell, leapt into the circle, brandishing his tomahawk,and began reciting, in a fierce tone, all the deeds of prowessaccomplished by himself and his ancestors.

  A second warrior imitated his example, and then another, until at lengththe war-dance began in real earnest, and the whole pack of Indians wereyelling and whooping, like so many demoniacs, hacking and tearing at thewooden post as though they were scalping an enemy. When they had thusworked themselves up into a frenzy, a final whoop from the chief endedthe wild frolic, and instantly every warrior assumed a mask of boredomand indifference. A few minutes more, and all except the watch werefast asleep, wrapped in blankets or buffalo robes.

  Thus passed the days and nights, until after they had passed the smallfort of Mont Royale. Then the merriment ceased, for they were in anenemy's country. The watch was doubled every evening, and fires wereleft unlit, or extinguished as soon as possible. Once or twice,suspecting the near presence of an enemy, they slept in the canoes.

  When they had passed the rapids of La Chine and Long Sault, severalIndian scouts were thrown out in advance, along either bank, in order toprevent a sudden attack from an ambushed foe. All went well for somedays, although the subdued manner of the _voyageurs_, and the keenalertness of the redskins, created an uneasy feeling in the minds of theyouths. Towards sunset one afternoon Jack, who had been examining theriver bank some distance ahead of the first canoe, suddenly exclaimed--

  "Look! Wabeno is signalling! What has he seen?"