CHAPTER VIII.
THE DECLARATION OF WAR.
There is an incomprehensible fact, which we were many times in aposition to appreciate, during the adventurous course of our lengthenedwanderings in America--that a man will at times feel the approach of amisfortune, though unable to account for the feeling he suffers from; heknows that he is menaced, though unable to tell when the peril willcome, or in what way it will arrive; the day seems to grow more gloomy,the sunbeams lose their brilliancy, external objects assume a mournfulappearance; there are strange murmurs in the air; all, in a word, seemsto feel the impression of a vague and undefined restlessness.
Though nothing occurred to justify the Captain's fears after hisaltercation with the Pawnee, not only he, but the whole population ofthe colony felt under the weight of dull terror on the evening of thisday.
At six o'clock, as usual, the bell was rung to recall the wood-cuttersand herds; all had returned, the beasts were shut up in their respectivestalls, and, apparently, at any rate nothing out of the common troubledthe calm existence of the colonists.
Sergeant Bothrel and his comrades, who had pursued Monkey-face forseveral hours, had only found the horse the Indian so audaciouslycarried off, and which he probably abandoned, in order to hide his trailmore effectually.
Although no Indian sign was visible in the vicinity of the colony, theCaptain, more anxious than he wished to appear, had doubled the sentriesintended to watch over the common safety, and ordered the Sergeant topatrol round the entrenchments every two hours.
When all these precautions had been taken, the family and servantsassembled on the ground floor of the tower to spend the evening, as hadbeen their wont ever since the beginning of the settlement.
The Captain, sitting in an easy chair by the fire, for the nights werebeginning to become fresh, was reading an old work on Military Tactics,while Mrs. Watt, with the servants, was engaged in mending the householdlinen.
This evening, however, the Captain, instead of reading, seemed to bethinking profoundly, with his arms crossed on his chest, and his eyesfixed on the fire.
At last he raised his head, and turned to his wife--
"Do you not hear the children crying?" he said.
"I really do not know what is the matter with them to-day," sheanswered, "for we cannot quiet them; Betsy has been with them for morethan an hour, and has not been able to get them to sleep."
"You should go yourself, my dear, that would be more proper than leavingthese things to the care of a servant."
Mrs. Watt went out without answering, and her voice could soon be heardon the upper floor, where was the children's room.
"So, Sergeant," the Captain went on, addressing the old soldier, who wasbusy in a corner mending a yoke, "you found it impossible to catch upthat accursed heathen, who threw me so roughly this morning?"
"We could not even see him, Captain," the Sergeant replied: "theseIndians are like lizards, they slip through anywhere. Luckily I foundBoston again; the poor brute seemed delighted at seeing me again."
"Yes, yes. Boston is a noble brute, I should have been vexed to losehim. The heathen has not wounded him, I hope, for you know that thesedemons are accustomed to treat horses badly."
"There is nothing the matter with him as far as I can see; the Indianwas probably compelled to leap off his back in a hurry upon finding usso close at his heels."
"It must be so, Sergeant. Have you examined the neighbourhoodcarefully?"
"With the greatest attention, Captain, but I noticed nothing suspicious.The Redskins will look twice before attacking us: we gave them too rudea shaking for them to forget it."
"I am not of your opinion, Sergeant; the pagans are vindictive; I amconvinced that they would like to avenge themselves on us, and thatsome day, before long perhaps, we shall hear them utter their war-yellin the valley."
"I do not desire it, it is true; but I believe, if they attempted it,they would sing small."
"I think so too; but they would give us a sorrowful surprise, especiallynow that, through our labours and our care, we are on the point ofreceiving the price of our fatigues, and beginning to see the end of ourtroubles."
"That is true, it would be vexatious, for the losses an attack fromthese bandits would entail on us are incalculable."
"Unluckily, we can only keep on our guard, and it will be impossible forus to foil the plans which these Red demons are doubtless ruminatingagainst us. Have you placed the sentinels as I recommended, Sergeant?"
"Yes, Captain, and I ordered them to display the utmost watchfulness; Ido not believe that the Pawnees can surprise us, however clever they maybe."
"We cannot take our oath of anything, Sergeant," the Captain answered,as he shook his head with a doubtful air.
At this moment, and as if accident wished to confirm his views, the bellhung outside, and which was used to tell the colonists someone desiredto come in, was rung violently.
"What does that mean?" the Captain exclaimed, as he looked at a clock onthe wall in front of him; "it is nearly eight o'clock, who can come solate? Have not all our men returned?"
"All, Captain, there is no one outside the palisades." James Watt rose,seized his rifle, and making the Sergeant a sign to follow him, preparedto go out.
"Where are you going, my love?" a gentle, anxious voice asked him.
The Captain turned; his wife had re-entered the keeping room unnoticedby him.
"Did you not hear the bell?" he asked her; "someone wishes to come in."
"Yes, I heard it, dear," she replied; "but do you intend to open thegate at this hour?"
"I am the head of this colony, madam," the Captain answered, coldly butfirmly; "and at such an hour as this it is my duty to open the gate, forthere may be danger in doing it, and I must give to all an example ofcourage and accomplishment of duty."
At this moment the bell pealed a second time.
"Let us go," the Captain added, turning to the Sergeant.
His wife made no reply. She fell into a chair, pale and trembling withanxiety.
In the meanwhile the Captain had gone out, followed by Bothrel and fourhunters, all armed with rifles.
The night was dark. There was not a star in the heavens, which wereblack as ink. Two paces ahead it was impossible to distinguish objects,and a cold breeze whistled fitfully. Bothrel had taken down a lanthornto guide him through the room.
"How is it," the Captain said, "that the sentry at the drawbridge hasnot challenged?"
"Perhaps he is afraid of giving an alarm, knowing, as he did, that weshould hear the bell from the tower."
"Hum!" the Captain muttered between his teeth.
They walked onward. Presently they heard a sound of voices, to whichthey listened. It was the sentry speaking.
"Patience!" he said. "Someone is coming. I see a lanthorn shining. Youwill only have a few moments longer to wait, though for your own sake Irecommend you not to stir, or I shall put a bullet into you."
"Hang it!" a sarcastic voice replied outside, "you have a curious ideaof hospitality in there. No matter, I will wait; so you can raise yourbarrel, for I have no idea of carrying your works by myself."
The Captain reached the intrenchments at this moment.
"What is it, Bob?" he asked the sentry.
"I really don't know, Captain," he answered. "There is a man on the edgeof the ditch who insists on coming in."
"Who are you? What do you want?" the Captain shouted.
"And pray who may you be?" the stranger replied.
"I am Captain James Watt, and I warn you that unknown vagabonds are notallowed to enter here at such an hour. Return at sunrise, and then I maypossibly allow you to come in."
"Take care what you are about," the stranger said. "Your obstinacy incausing me to shiver on the brink of this ditch may cost you dearly."
"Take care yourself," the Captain answered, impatiently. "I am not inthe mood to listen to threats."
"I do not threaten: I warn you. You have already
committed a grave faultto-day. Do not commit a grave one to-night, by obstinately refusing tolet me come in."
This answer struck the Captain, and made him reflect.
"Supposing," he said presently, "I allow you to enter, who guaranteesthat you will not betray me? The night is dark, and you may have a largeband with you, which I am unable to see."
"I have only one companion with me, for whom I answer with my head."
"Hum!" the Captain remarked, more undecided than ever, "and who willanswer for you?"
"Myself."
"Who are you, as you speak our language with such correctness that youmight almost be taken for one of our countrymen?"
"Well, I am nearly one; for I am a Canadian, and my name is Tranquil."
"Tranquil!" the Captain exclaimed. "Are you, then, the celebratedwood-ranger, surnamed the Panther-killer?"
"I do not know whether I am celebrated, Captain. All I am certain of is,that I am the man you refer to."
"If you are really Tranquil, I will allow you to enter; but who is theman that accompanies you, and for whom you answer?"
"Black-deer, the first Sachem of the Snake Pawnees."
"Oh! Oh!" the Captain muttered, "What does he want here?"
"Let us in, and you will know,"
"Well, be it so," the Captain shouted; "but I warn you that, at theslightest appearance of treachery, you and your comrade will bemercilessly killed."
"And you will be justified in doing it, if I break my word."
The Captain, after recommending his hunters to hold themselves inreadiness for any event, ordered the drawbridge to be lowered.
Tranquil and Black-deer entered.
Both were unarmed, or, at any rate, seemed so. In the presence of such aproof of confidence, the Captain felt ashamed of his suspicions; andafter the bridge had been raised again, he dismissed his escort, andonly kept Bothrel with him.
"Follow me," he said to the strangers.
The latter bowed without further reply, and walked at his side.
They reached the tower without exchanging a syllable.
The Captain introduced them into the keeper's room, where Mrs. Watt wasalone, a prey to the most lively anxiety.
By a sign her husband ordered her to retire. She gave him a suppliantglance, which he understood, for he did not insist, and she remainedsilent in her chair.
Tranquil had the same calm and open countenance as of yore. Nothing inhis manner seemed to evidence that he had any hostile intentions towardsthe colonists.
Black-deer, on the contrary, was gloomy and stern. The Captain offeredhis guests seats by the fire.
"Be seated, gentlemen," he said. "You must feel the need of warmth. Haveyou come to me as friends or foes?"
"It is more easy to ask that question than answer it," the hunter said,honestly; "up to the present our intentions are kindly; you will decideyourself, Captain, as to the terms on which we shall leave you."
"In any case, you will not refuse some slight refreshment?"
"For the present, I must ask you to excuse us," Tranquil replied, whoappeared to be spokesman for himself and friend; "it is better, I think,to settle at once the point that brings us here."
"Hum!" the Captain muttered, annoyed in his heart at this refusal, whichforeboded nothing good; "in that case speak, and an amicable interviewwill not depend on me."
"I, wish it with all my heart, Captain; the more so, because if I amhere it is with the object of avoiding the consequences either of amistake or a moment of passion."
The Captain bowed his thanks, and the Canadian went on.
"You are an old soldier, sir," he said, "and the shorter the speech thebetter you will like it; in two words, then, this is what brings us: theSnake Pawnees accuse you of having seized their village by treachery,and massacred the greater part of their relations and friends. Is thattrue?"
"It is true that I seized their village, but I had the right to do so,since the Redskins refused to surrender it to me; but I deny that Iacted treacherously: on the contrary, the Pawnees behaved in that way tome."
"Oh!" Black-deer exclaimed, as he rose quickly, "the Paleface has alying tongue in his mouth."
"Peace!" Tranquil cried, as he forced him to take his seat again, "leaveme to disentangle this skein, which seems to me very troublesome.Forgive me for insisting," he went on, addressing the Captain, "but thequestion is a grave one, and the truth must out. Were you not received,on your arrival, by the Chiefs of the tribe, in the light of a friend?"
"Yes; our first relations were amicable."
"Why, then, did they become hostile?"
"I have told you; because, contrary to sworn faith and pledged word,they refused to give up the land."
"What do you say?"
"Certainly, because they had sold me the territory they occupied."
"Oh, oh, Captain! This requires an explanation."
"It is very easy to give, and to prove my good faith in the matter, Iwill show you the deed of sale."
The hunter and the Chief exchanged a glance of surprise.
"I am quite out of my reckoning," said Tranquil.
"Wait a moment," the Captain went on, "I will fetch the deed and show itto you."
And he went out.
"Oh, sir!" the young lady exclaimed, as she clasped her handsentreatingly, "try to prevent a quarrel."
"Alas, madam!" the hunter said sadly, "that will be very difficult,after the turn matters have taken."
"Here, look," the Captain said, as he came in and showed them the deed.
The two men required but a glance to detect the trick.
"That deed is false," said Tranquil.
"False! That is impossible!" the Captain went on in stupor; "If it be, Iam odiously deceived."
"Unfortunately that has happened."
"What is to be done?" the Captain muttered, mechanically.
Black-deer rose.
"Let the Palefaces listen," he said, majestically; "a Sachem is about tospeak."
The Canadian tried to interpose, but the Chief sternly imposed silenceon him.
"My father has been deceived; he is a just warrior, his head is grey;the Wacondah has given him wisdom; the Snake Pawnees are also just; theywish to live in peace with my father, because he is innocent of thefault with which he is reproached, and for which another must berendered responsible."
The commencement of this speech greatly surprised the Chief's hearers;the young mother especially, on hearing the words, felt her anxietydisappear, and joy well up in her heart again.
"The Snake Pawnees," the Sachem continued, "will restore to my fatherall the merchandize he extorted from him; he, for his part, will pledgehimself to abandon the hunting-grounds of the Pawnees, and retire withthe Palefaces who came with him; the Pawnees will give up the vengeancethey wished to take for the murder of their brothers, and the warhatchet will be buried between the Redskins and the Palefaces of theWest. I have spoken."
After these words there was a silence.
His hearers were struck with stupor: if the conditions wereunacceptable, war became inevitable.
"What does my father answer?" the Chief asked presently.
"Unhappily, Chief," the Captain answered sadly, "I cannot consent tosuch conditions, that is impossible; all I can do is to double the priceI paid previously."
The Chief shrugged his shoulders in contempt.
"Black-deer was mistaken," he said, with a crushing smile of sarcasm;"the Palefaces have really a forked tongue."
It was impossible to make the Sachem understand the real state of thecase; with that blind obstinacy characteristic of his race, he wouldlisten to nothing; the more they tried to prove to him that he waswrong, the more convinced he felt he was right.
At a late hour of the night the Canadian and Black-deer withdrew,accompanied, as far as the entrenchments, by the Captain.
So soon as they had gone, James Watt returned thoughtfully to the tower;on the threshold he stumbled against a rather large object, a
nd stoopeddown to see what it was.
"Oh!" he exclaimed as he rose again, "then they really mean fighting! ByHeaven! They shall have it to their heart's content!"
The object against which the Captain had stumbled was a bundle of arrowsfastened by a serpent skin; the two ends of this skin and the points ofthe arrows were blood stained.
Black-deer, on retiring, had let the declaration of war fall behind him.
All hope of peace had vanished, and preparation for fighting must bemade.
After the first moment of stupor the Captain regained his coolness; andalthough day had not yet broken, he aroused the colonists and assembledthem in front of the town, to hold a council and consult as to the meansfor neutralizing the peril that menaced them.
The Border Rifles: A Tale of the Texan War Page 8