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

by Rowland Walker

  *CHAPTER VIII*

  *THE NIGHT-WATCH*

  Quickly the canoes were drawn to the bank and hidden amongst theoverhanging bushes. A moment later a rustling was heard amongst thebranches, and Wabeno stood before them.

  "What has my red brother seen?" asked the major.

  "Wabeno has seen the trail of a serpent!" replied the chief.

  "Had the serpent moccasins?"

  "Yes! The moccasins of the Iroquois."

  "Humph! How many?"

  The Algonquin held up seven fingers, to indicate how many footprints hehad seen.

  "'Tis only a small scalping party, then, which has passed this way.We'd better camp here for the night."

  Wabeno insisted, however, that there was probably a larger party ofIroquois in the neighbourhood, and was for resting only until sunset,and then travelling rapidly through the night in order to reach thelakes as soon as possible. He seemed to think, also, that for severaldays past they had been watched by the scouts of the enemy.

  As the chief spoke he looked keenly at the forest on the other side ofthe stream, as though he would like to read some fatal secret which thatdense, virgin growth held inviolate; then, without further words, heturned and disappeared into the forest, as though to join his scouts.

  "His words seem rather ominous, Jamie," said Jack, when he had gone, andthey were busying themselves making fast the canoes and unloading a fewthings.

  "Yes, I'm sorry that the major paid so little attention to his words.He seems to think that they are only a small band of marauding Indianswho have recently crossed the river, and that if they do attack us weshall be more than a match for them. Well, let's hope he's right."

  "There's something wrong, and I like not the redskin's uneasiness, oldfellow. He scents danger, though he won't press his opinions upon theleader. He believes it's more than a scalping party, but he evidentlythinks he's a match for Iroquois cunning."

  "Did you notice the way he looked across the river? I wonder if that'sthe quarter he suspects? But come, we must lend the men a hand, for'twill be dark in a few minutes," said Jamie.

  Major Ridout took every precaution, however, against a surprise attack.All the Indians except two were sent into the forest to keep a strictwatch. A few trees were felled and a rude abattis constructed, whichinstilled a certain amount of security into each mind.

  Then darkness fell, and one by one the men stretched themselves on theground and slept, with their rifles beside them. The two comrades,however, still talked in whispers as they lay rolled in their blankets.

  "Just look at the men, Jack! How quiet they all are to-night? Nonoise, no singing or dancing this time. 'Tis my belief that we're in atight corner, and if the Iroquois manage to get in past the scouts,there won't be a scalp left on any of us at daybreak."

  "Never mind, we can only die once. The scouts are sure to give uswarning, and then we'll sell our lives dearly. We've been in many ascrape before, old fellow, and we've always pulled through. There seemsto be a Providence over us."

  "Why, yes, it seems so. Do you remember the fight with the Frenchcruiser?"

  "Shall I ever forget it? I thought every moment would be my last whenthe broadsides opened upon us."

  "Hush! What was that?"

  The hoot of an owl was distinctly heard twice, and a moment afterwardsit was answered by the call of the night-raven. The first call seemedto come from the depth of the forest on the other side of the river.

  Scarcely had the last sound died away when the two Indians who remainedin the camp, though apparently fast asleep, sprang to their feet, seizedtheir rifles and disappeared into the thicket. Several of the men halfraised themselves, looked around, and then lay down once more.

  For a moment the boys listened in silence, their faces turned first tothe deep gloom of the forest shades, half expecting to hear from thencethe deadly whoop of the fierce Iroquois, and to see the rush of savagewarriors upon the sleeping camp, then they looked suspiciously acrossthe stream that flowed at their feet.

  Overhead the stars shone brightly, and the placid stream reflected theirfiery points on its broad bosom. Now and again its mirrored surface wasbroken by the splash of the salmon and the large river-trout.

  "'Twas only a bird after all, Jack. Let us go to sleep. See, the menare sleeping peacefully."

  "If 'twas only a bird, then why did the Indians leave to join thescouts?"

  "I can't say. Perhaps 'twas only a private call for extra scouts. Youknow the call to arms is the howl of the coyote, repeated twice.Besides, 'tisn't likely that the enemy will get through the scoutswithout being seen. An Indian is all eyes, even in the dark."

  The boys laid down again, but though Jamie was soon asleep Jack remainedawake, gazing up at those bright twinkling points, and listening acutelyfor any sound that might come. Once or twice he raised himself andlooked around.

  A ripple in mid-stream caught his attention. While in the starlight hegazed upon it, it seemed to come nearer. Then another ripple, andanother, that spread themselves out wider and wider, and in the middleof the disturbed area there appeared a tiny speck, as though a swimmerwere breasting the stream. But even as he watched it, it disappearedand was lost in the darkness.

  Five minutes--ten minutes passed, but the speck, whatever it was, didnot reappear. What could it be? It would be foolish to alarm the campprematurely, so he would just creep down to the water's edge and makesure. He threw off his blanket and crawled along through the reeds andwillows. He had nearly reached the water when a rustling amongst thereeds caused his heart to cease beating for an instant. What could itbe?

  Two glaring eyeballs, that glowed like fire, were fixed upon his, notsix feet away. Jack instinctively felt for his pistol, when, horror ofhorrors, he had left it beside the embers of the fire. He drew hishunting-knife from its sheath, keeping his eyes fixed the while uponthose glaring eye-balls; when the wild creature, evidently a wolf,attracted to the river by thirst, suddenly uttered a snarl, turned tailand made off.

  "Thank God!" he gasped. "Better a wolf than an Indian." For thoughnaturally a brave lad this sudden apparition had given him a shock thatmade the perspiration stand out like beads on his forehead, but hequickly recovered himself and crept down to the edge of the stream.

  He could just make out the dark, indistinct outline of the forest on theopposite bank, but no ripples or dark objects were visible. Then helooked down-stream, but nothing could he see.

  "I must have been deceived. What a good thing I didn't alarm the camp!How they would have laughed at me," he muttered.

  Just then, however, he cast his eyes upstream. As he did so, he startedagain. A long, dark shadow, like a log or a canoe, half-way across,seemed to be drifting towards the northern shore on which they werecamped. It was not more than two hundred yards away. It seemed to crawlalong, then close behind it he saw a similar object, and still another.

  What were the scouts doing? Had they been betrayed? What could theybe, but canoes--Indians? Then the enemy must be crossing over, and heraised his voice for one mighty shout of--

  "Iroquois."

  But even as he uttered that startling cry the fierce howl of the coyote,repeated twice, the signal to alarm the camp, came from the woods, andthe crack of a rifle awoke a hundred echoes and roused the men to asense of their danger.

  Even as for an instant he lingered beside the river-bank ablood-curdling yell, the war-whoop of the Iroquois, rang across thestream and echoed and re-echoed through the forest. A dozen riflesspattered out their leaden hail, for the conflict had begun at last.

  Jack rushed back into the camp and found Major Ridout and the menalready in position behind the logs, prepared to receive the enemy assoon as they should burst through that thin line of Algonquin scouts.

  "Hullo, Jack!" cried Jamie. "Where have you been? I feared that youwere a prisoner. Have you been scouting too?"

  "Why, yes! That is, I coul
dn't sleep, and I thought I saw a curiousobject in mid-stream and went down to see what it was."

  "And what did you find?"

  "Well, I could no longer see it when I got there, but just as I wascoming away I happened to look up-stream, and I saw three canoescrossing over from the southern bank.

  "I wonder why the chief did not discover them before. He seems to havebeen watching the forest instead of the river! Hullo! What's this?"

  The sounds of a desperate struggle, a hand-to-hand fight in the bushes afew yards away, attracted their attention. It was too dark, however, tosee anything as yet, although the dawn would be upon them shortly.

  "Stand ready, lads!" cried their leader, and every man levelled hisrifle in the direction whence the sounds came.

  The next moment a wounded Algonquin rushed into the camp, leaping overthe abattis, and then rolled over on the ground dead. He was fearfullygashed, and it was evident that an attempt had even been made to scalphim. How he had escaped was a marvel. The yells and war-whoops hadceased now, and for a brief space even the rifles had ceased to speak,and there was a dead silence. The men waited impatiently behind thatrude barricade, reserving their fire.

  Suddenly a sharp, short, piercing scream, broken short, fell upon theirears, as though a mortal wound had been given and received.

  "Ah, Wabeno! That is the end of Wabeno!" exclaimed one of the men.

  It was indeed Wabeno who uttered that scream, and it was both hiswar-cry and his death-cry, for at that instant he had met in singlecombat the Iroquois chief, and the tomahawk of the greatest warriorwithin a hundred leagues of the lakes, had sunk into his brain andstretched him lifeless.

  "Now the Algonquins will scatter like the leaves of the forest, and wemust fight it out alone, lads. Oh! that the dawn would come!" exclaimedthe major, casting a brief look towards the east.

  Even as he spoke the first flush of the sunrise was lighting up the edgeof the forest and the river, but the dawn only revealed to them theutter hopelessness of their position. The enemy were in great numbers,and had almost completely surrounded them, for though the river was attheir rear it was being eagerly watched from the opposite bank.

  Still, for some reason, the enemy did not attempt to rush the camp asyet.

  "I wonder why they're hanging back, Jamie," said his comrade, who laybehind the same log with his rifle at the "ready."

  "Perhaps they've had enough scalps already, and are thinking of goingback to their wigwams."

  "Ah," replied one of the _voyageurs_, who was a regular frontiersman,"that might be true of any other tribe but the Iroquois; they'll not besatisfied until their girdles are full of reeking scalps. We must teachthem a lesson they'll not forget. Here goes," and raising his rifle ashe spoke he fired quickly at a dark figure that was approaching thecamp, leaping quickly from tree to tree.

  A yell of pain escaped the Indian as he rolled over in an agony, andpaid with his life for his temerity. A wild cry of vengeance came fromthe dark aisles of the forest, and a dozen Iroquois leapt forward tosnatch away the dead body, lest it should fall into the hands of thepalefaces.

  This was the opportunity that had long been waited for, and the ordercame sharp and short--

  "Fire!"

  A dozen flashes of fire burst forth from behind the barricade, and ahail of bullets was poured out upon the Indians, and a confused heap ofdead and wounded lay beside their fallen comrade, but ere the smoke hadcleared away the piercing scream of an eagle rent the air. It was thesignal for a general attack given by the Iroquois chief, and before thepalefaces had time to reload their pieces, a hundred braves leapt fromthe cover of the trees, where they had been hidden on three sides of thecamp.

  The forest rang with their wild whoops, as, brandishing their hatchetsand tomahawks, they leapt over the tree trunks and fell upon the_voyageurs_. A desperate hand-to-hand fight ensued. Frightful blowswere given and received. Paleface and redskin fought like demons. Someof the former, seeing the hopelessness of prolonging the fight againstsuch numbers of their fierce and crafty foe, rushed to the river bank,and launching one of the canoes pushed off and threw themselves in,followed by a storm of bullets and arrows.

  From that moment the fight was lost, and even those who thus desertedtheir comrades gained nothing but dishonour and death, for they werequickly overtaken, and killed and scalped.

  The rest of the small band still fought on bravely against desperateodds, for they were outnumbered by more than ten to one. Major Ridoutseemed to have the strength of ten, for single-handed he encounteredfour Indians at once, and had stretched two of them on the ground, andwounded a third, when a fierce painted warrior, with a plume of eagle'sfeathers upon his head, uttered a wild cry and buried his knife in thebrave man's heart.

  Where were the lads all this time? As soon as the general attack wasmade, they placed their backs against a pine-tree that stood nearly inthe middle of the clearing, and defended themselves against all-comers.They were the last survivors of that little band, and they still foughtdesperately with their clubbed muskets, which they wielded with a vigourand frenzy that had already sent half-a-dozen Iroquois to the ground.

  The end was not far off, however. They had both received several nastywounds, and Jack was both stunned and bleeding.

  "Good-bye, Jamie!" he said, as he sank to the ground.

  Jamie felt that he, too, must soon follow him, but when Jack fell hestepped across his body and swung his clubbed musket about so fiercelythat the enemy fell back for a minute. An Indian hurled a hatchet, whichjust missed his head and buried its keen, trembling blade in the treebehind him.

  He looked down at Jack's pale, death-like face. He called him by name,but no answer came, and he feared that his comrade was dead. The bloodwas flowing freely from his own wounds, and he felt himself gettingweaker and weaker.

  He was reeling now from sheer weakness and loss of blood. He couldhardly hold his musket. This, then, was to be the end of it all.Deserted by the French _voyageurs_, to be killed and scalped by thecruel Iroquois.

  "Never mind! We will die together," he mumbled to himself, "fighting tothe last."

  The Indians were returning now from the capture of the canoe. He couldsee a dozen or more gesticulating forms, dancing in frenzy before him.He could do no more. He was falling--falling--such a long way it seemedto the ground. Then he felt the sharp steel of an Indian knife cuttinginto his flesh, as it was hurled at him from a distance.

  He felt some one clutch his scalp-lock, but he was unable to resist. Hehad become unconscious and oblivious of all these things. He seemed tobe in another land where, instead of the dark forest with itsinterminable tangle and endless dangers, he roamed with Jamie beside abroken stream, where the red-spotted trout leapt in a sunlit burn, themusic of whose waters charmed and soothed his tired and weary spirit.

  "Stay! He is the paleface brother of the White Eagle," said a voicethat broke his sub-conscious reverie; and at these words Jack opened hiseyes for an instant and looked into the face of a mighty warrior whoseplumed eagle crest and haughty features seemed strangely familiar.