CHAPTER XIV
BEFORE QUEBEC
True to the predictions of Tayoga, they struck the trail of St. Luc andTandakora far up in the province of New York and west of Lake Champlain.Ever since the white man came, hostile forces had been going north orsouth along well-defined passes in these regions, and, doubtless, bandsof Indians had been traveling the same course from time immemorial; soit was not hard for them to come upon the traces of French and Indiansgoing to Quebec to make the great stand against Wolfe and his fleet.
"It is a broad trail because many Frenchmen and Indians make it," saidthe Onondaga. "As I have said, Sharp Sword and Tandakora do not likeeach other, but circumstances make them allies. They have rejoined andthey go together to Quebec. Here is the trail of at least three hundredmen, perhaps two hundred Frenchmen and a hundred warriors. The footstepsof Sharp Sword are unmistakable, and so are those of Tandakora. Beholdtheir great size, Dagaeoga; and here are the prints of boots whichbelong to De Courcelles and Jumonville. I have seen them often before,Dagaeoga. How could you believe they might have been left by somebodyelse?"
"I see nothing but some faint traces in the earth," said Robert. "If youdidn't tell me, I wouldn't be even sure that they were made by a man."
"But they are plain to us who were born in the woods, and whoseancestors have lived in the woods since the beginning of the world. Itis where we are superior to the white man, much as the white man thinksof his wisdom, though there be those, like the Great Bear, the MountainWolf and Black Rifle, who know much. But the feet of the two Frenchmenwho love not Dagaeoga have passed here."
"It is true they do not love me, Tayoga. I wounded one of them lastyear, shortly before Ticonderoga, as you know, and I fancy that I'dreceive short shrift from either if I fell into his hands."
"That is so. But Dagaeoga will not let himself be captured again. He hasbeen captured often enough now."
"I don't seem to be any the worse for it," said Robert, laughing."You're right, though, Tayoga. For me to be captured once more would beonce too much. As St. Luc doesn't like Tandakora, I imagine you don'tsee him walking with them."
"I do not, Dagaeoga. Sharp Sword keeps by himself, and now De Courcellesand Jumonville walk with the Ojibway chief. Here are their three trails,that of Tandakora between the other two. Doubtless the two Frenchmen aretrying to make him their friend, and it is equally sure that they speakill to him of St. Luc. But Sharp Sword does not care. He expects littlefrom Tandakora and his warriors. He is thinking of Quebec and the greatfight that Montcalm must make there against Wolfe. He is eager to arriveat Stadacona, which you call Quebec, and help Montcalm. He knows that itis all over here on Andiatarocte and Oneadatote, that Ticonderoga islost forever, that Crown Point is lost forever, and that Isle-aux-Noixmust go in time, but he hopes for Stadacona. Yet Sharp Sword isdepressed. He does not walk with his usual spring and courage. His pacesare shorter, and they are shorter because his footsteps drag. Truly, itwas a dagger in the heart of Sharp Sword to give up Ticonderoga andCrown Point."
"I can believe you, Tayoga," said Willet. "It's bitter to lose suchlakes and such a land, and the French have fought well for them. Do youthink there's any danger of our running into an ambush? It would be likeTandakora to lie in wait for pursuers."
"I am not sure, Great Bear. He, like the Frenchman, is in a great hurryto reach Stadacona."
An hour or two later they came to a dead campfire of St. Luc's force,and, a little farther on, a new trail, coming from the west, joined theChevalier's. They surmised that it had been made by a band from Niagaraor some other fallen French fort in that direction, and that everywherealong the border Montcalm was drawing in his lines that he mightconcentrate his full strength at Quebec to meet the daring challenge ofWolfe.
"But I take it that the drawing in of the French won't keep downscalping parties of the warriors," said Willet. "If they can findanything on the border to raid, they'll raid it."
"It is so," said Tayoga. "It may be that Tandakora and his warriors willturn aside soon to see if they cannot ambush somebody."
"In that case it will be wise for us to watch out for ourselves. Youthink Tandakora may leave St. Luc and lie in wait, perhaps, for us?"
"For any one who may come. He does not yet know that it is the GreatBear, Dagaeoga and I who follow. Suppose we go on a while longer and seeif he leaves the main trail. Is it the wish of Great Bear and Dagaeoga?"
"It is," they replied together.
They advanced several hours, and then the great trail split, or ratherit threw off a stem that curved to the west.
"It is made by about twenty warriors," said Tayoga, "and here are thehuge footsteps of Tandakora in the very center of it. I think they willgo northwest a while, and then come back toward the main trail, hopingto trap any one who may be rash enough to follow Sharp Sword. But, ifthe Great Bear and Dagaeoga wish it, we will pursue Tandakora himselfand ambush him when he is expecting to ambush others."
The dark eyes of the Onondaga gleamed.
"I can see, Tayoga, that you're hoping for a chance to settle that scorebetween you and the Ojibway," said the hunter. "Maybe you'll get it thistime, and maybe you won't, but I'm willing to take the trail after him,and so is Robert here. We may stop a lot of mischief."
It was then about two o'clock in the afternoon, and, as Tayoga said thatTandakora's trail was not more than a few hours old, they pushed onrapidly, hoping to stalk his camp that very night. The traces sooncurved back toward St. Luc's and they knew they were right in theirsurmise that an ambush was being laid by the Ojibway. He and hiswarriors would halt in the dense bush beside the great trail and shootdown any who followed.
"We'll shatter his innocent little plan," said Willet, his spiritsmounting at the prospect.
"Tandakora will not build a fire to-night," said Tayoga. "He will waitin the darkness beside Sharp Sword's path, hoping that some one willcome. He will lie in the forest like a panther waiting to spring on itsprey."
"And we'll just disturb that panther a little," said Robert,appreciating the merit of their enterprise, which now seemed to allthree a kind of great game.
"Aye, we'll make Tandakora think all the spirits of earth and air areafter him," said Willet.
They now moved with great caution as the trail was growing quite fresh.
"We will soon be back to Sharp Sword's line of march," said Tayoga, "andI think we will find Tandakora and his warriors lying in the bushes notmore than a mile ahead."
They redoubled their caution, and, when they approached a dense thicket,Robert and Willet lay down and Tayoga went on, creeping on hands andknees. In a half hour he came back and said that Tandakora and his bandwere in the thicket watching the great trail left by St. Luc.
"The Ojibway does not dream that he himself is being watched," said theOnondaga, "and now I think we would better eat a little food from ourknapsacks and wait until the dark night that is promised has fullycome."
Tayoga's report was wholly true. Tandakora and twenty fierce warriorslay in the thicket, waiting to fall upon those who might follow thetrail of St. Luc. He had no doubt that a force of some kind would come.The Bostonnais and the English always followed a retreating enemy, andexperience never kept them from walking into an ambush. Tandakora wasalready counting the scalps he would take, and his savage heart wasfilled with delight. He had been aghast when Bourlamaque abandonedTiconderoga and Crown Point. Throughout the region over which he hadbeen roaming for three or four years the Bostonnais would be triumphant.Andiatarocte and Oneadatote would pass into their possession forever.The Ojibway chief belonged far to the westward, to the west of the GreatLakes, but the great war had called him, like so many others of thesavage tribes, into the east, and he had been there so long that he hadgrown to look upon the country as his own, or at least held by him andhis like in partnership with the French, a belief confirmed by the greatvictories at Duquesne and Oswego, William Henry and Ticonderoga.
Now Tandakora's whole world was overthrown. The French were wit
hdrawinginto Canada. St. Luc, whom he did not like, but whom he knew to be agreat warrior, was retreating in haste, and the invincible Montcalm wasbeleaguered in Quebec. He would have to go too, but he meant to takescalps with him. Bostonnais were sure to appear on the trail, and theywould come in the night, pursuing St. Luc. It was a good night for suchwork as his, heavy with clouds and very dark. He would creep close andstrike before his presence was even suspected.
Tandakora lay quiet with his warriors, while night came and its darknessgrew, and he listened for the sound of men on the trail. Instead heheard the weird, desolate cry of an owl to his left, and then theequally lone and desolate cry of another to his right. But the warriorsstill lay quiet. They had heard owls often and were not afraid of them.Then the cry came from the north, and now it was repeated from thesouth. There was a surfeit of owls, very much too many of them, and theycalled to one another too much. Tandakora did not like it. It was almostlike a visitation of evil spirits. Those weird, long-drawn cries,singularly piercing on a still night, were bad omens. Some of hiswarriors stirred and became uneasy, but Tandakora quieted them sternlyand promised that the Bostonnais would soon be along. Hope arousedagain, the men plucked up courage and resumed their patient waiting.
Then the cry of the panther, long drawn, wailing like the shriek of awoman, came from the east and the west, and presently from the north andthe south also, followed soon by the dreadful hooting of the owls, andthen by the fierce growls of the bear. Tandakora, in spite of himself,in spite of his undoubted courage, in spite of his vast experience inthe forest, shuddered. The darkness was certainly full of wickedspirits, and they were seeking prey. So many owls and bears and pantherscould not be abroad at once in a circle about him. But Tandakora shookhimself and resolved to stand fast. He encouraged his warriors, who werealready showing signs of fright, and refused to let any one go.
But the forest chorus grew. Tandakora heard the gobble of the wildturkey as he used to hear it in his native west, only he was sure thatthe gobble now was made by a spirit and not by a real turkey. Then theowl hooted, the panther shrieked and the bear growled. The cry of amoose, not any moose at all, as Tandakora well knew, but the foulemanation of a wicked spirit, came, merely to be succeeded by the weirdcries of night birds which the Ojibway chief had never seen, and ofwhich he had never dreamed. He knew, though, that they must be hideous,misshapen creatures. But he still stood fast, although all of hiswarriors were eager to go, and the demon chorus came nearer and nearer,multiplying its cries, and adding to the strange notes of birds theequally strange notes of animals, worse even than the growl of bear orshriek of panther.
Tandakora knew now that the wicked spirits of earth and air were abroadin greater numbers than he had ever known before. They fairly swarmedall about him and his warriors, continually coming closer and closer andmaking dire threats. The night was particularly suited to them. Theheavy black clouds floating before the moon and stars were met by thickmists and vapors that fairly oozed out of the damp earth. It was an evilnight, full of spells and magic, and the moment came when the chiefwished he was in his own hunting grounds far to the west by the greatestof the Great Lakes.
The darkness was not too great for him to see several of his warriorstrembling and he rebuked them fiercely, though his own nerves, tough asthey were, were becoming frayed and uneasy. He forgot to watch the trailand listen for the sound of footsteps. All his attention was centeredupon that horrible and circling chorus of sound. The Bostonnais mightcome and pass and he would not see them. He went into the forest alittle way, trying to persuade himself that they were really persecutedby animals. He would find one of these annoying panthers or bears andshoot it, or he would not even hesitate to send a bullet through an owlon a bough, but he saw nothing, and, as he went back to his warriors, ahideous snapping and barking of wolves followed him.
The note of the wolf had not been present hitherto in the demon chorus,but now it predominated. What it lacked in the earliness of coming itmade up in the vigor of arrival. It had in it all the human qualities,that is, the wicked or menacing ones--hunger, derision, revenge, desirefor blood and threat of death. Tandakora, veteran of a hundred battles,one of the fiercest warriors that ever ranged the woods, shook. Hisblood turned to water, ice water at that, and the bones of his giganticframe seemed to crumble. He knew, as all the Indians knew, that thesouls of dead warriors, usually those who had been wicked in life,dwelled for a while in the bodies of animals, preferably those ofwolves, and the wolves about him were certainly inhabited by the worstwarriors that had ever lived. In every growl and snap and bark there wasa threat. He could hear it, and he knew it was meant for him. But whathe feared most of all was the deadly whine with which growl, snap andbark alike ended. Perspiration stood out on his face, but he could notafford to show fear to his men, and, retreating slowly, he rejoinedthem. He would make no more explorations in the haunted wood that layall about them.
As the chief went back to his men the snarling and snapping of the demonwolves distinctly expressed laughter, derision of the most sinisterkind. They were not only threatening him, they were laughing at him, andhis bones continued to crumble through sheer weakness and fear. It wasnot worth while for him to fire at any of the sounds. The bullet mightgo through a wolf, but it would not hurt him, it would merely increasehis ferocity and make him all the more hungry for the blood ofTandakora.
The band pressed close together as the wolves growled and snapped allabout them, but the warriors still saw nothing. How could they seeanything when such wolves had the power of making themselves invisible?But their claws would tear and their teeth would rend just the same whenthey sprang upon their victims, and now they were coming so close thatthey might make a spring, the prodigious kind of spring that a demonwolf could make.
It was more than Tandakora and his warriors could stand. Human beings,white or red, they would fight, but not the wicked and powerful spiritsof earth and air which were now closing down upon them. The chief couldresist no longer. He uttered a great howl of fear, which was taken upand repeated in a huge chorus by his warriors. Then, and by the sameimpulse, they burst from the thicket, rushed into St. Luc's trail andsped northward at an amazing pace.
Tayoga, Willet and Robert emerged from the woods, lay down in the trailand panted for breath.
"Well, that's the easiest victory we ever gained," said Robert. "Eveneasier than one somewhat like it that I won on the island."
"I don't know about that," gasped Willet. "It's hard work being an owland a bear and a panther and a wolf and trying, too, to be in three orfour places at the same time. I worked hardest as a wolf toward thelast; every muscle in me is tired, and I think my throat is the mosttired of all. I must lie by for a day."
"Great Bear is a splendid animal," said Tayoga in his precise, bookEnglish, "nor is he wanting as a bird, either. I think he turned himselfinto birds that were never seen in this world, and they were verydreadful birds, too. But he excelled most as a wolf. His growling andsnapping and whining were better than that of ninety-nine out of ahundred wolves, only a master wolf could have equaled it, and when Istood beside him I was often in fear lest he turn and tear me to pieceswith tooth and claw."
"Tandakora was in mortal terror," said Robert, who was not as tired asthe others, who had done most of the work in the demon chorus. "I caughta glimpse of his big back, and I don't think I ever saw anybody runfaster. He'll not stop this side of the St. Lawrence, and you'll have topostpone your vengeance a while, Tayoga."
"I could have shot him down as he stood in the woods, shaking withfear," said the Onondaga, "but that never would have done. That wouldhave spoiled our plan, and I must wait, as you say, Dagaeoga, to settlethe score with the Ojibway."
"I think we'd better go into the bushes and sleep," said the hunter."Being a demon is hard work, and there is no further danger from thewarriors."
But Robert, who was comparatively fresh, insisted on keeping the watch,and the other two, lying down on their blankets, were soon in dee
pslumber. The next day they shot a young bear, and had a feast in thewoods, a reward to which they thought themselves entitled after thegreat and inspired effort they had made the night before. As they sataround their cooking fire, eating the juicy steaks, they planned howthey should enter Canada and join Wolfe, still keeping theirindependence as scouts and skirmishers.
"Most of the country around the city is held by the English, or at leastthey overrun it from time to time," said Willet, "and we ought to getpast the French villages in a single night. Then we can join whateverpart of the force we wish. I think it likely that we can be of most usewith the New England rangers, who are doing a lot of the scouting andskirmishing for Wolfe."
"But I want to see the Royal Americans first," said Robert. "I heard inBoston that Colden, Wilton, Carson, Stuart and Cabell had gone on withthem, and I know that Grosvenor is there with his regiment. I shouldlike to see them all again."
"And so would I," said the hunter. "A lot of fine lads. I hope that allof them will come through the campaign alive."
They traveled the whole of the following night and remained in theforest through the day, and following this plan they arrived beforeQuebec without adventure, finding the army of Wolfe posted along the St.Lawrence, his fleet commanding the river, but the army of Montcalmholding Quebec and all the French elated over the victory of theMontmorency River. Robert went at once to the camp of the RoyalAmericans, where Colden was the first of his friends whom he saw. ThePhiladelphian, like all the others, was astounded and delighted.
"Lennox!" he exclaimed, grasping his hand. "I heard that you were dead,killed by a spy named Garay, and your body thrown into the Hudson, whereit was lost! Now, I know that reports are generally lies! And you're noghost. 'Tis a solid hand that I hold in mine!"
"I'm no ghost, though I did vanish from the world for a while," saidRobert. "But, as you see, I've come back and I mean to have a part inthe taking of Quebec."
Wilton and Carson, Stuart and Cabell soon came, and then Grosvenor, andevery one in his turn welcomed Robert back from the dead, after which hegave to them collectively a rapid outline of his story.
"'Tis a strange tale, a romance," said Grosvenor. "It's evident thatit's not intended you shall lose your life in this war, Lennox. What hasbecome of that wonderful Onondaga Indian, Tayoga, and the great hunter,Willet?"
"They're both here. You shall see them before the day is over. But whatis the feeling in the army?"
"We're depressed and the French are elated. It's because we lost theMontmorency battle. The Royal Americans and the Grenadiers were tooimpulsive. We tried to rush slopes damp and slippery from rain, and wewere cut up. I received a wound there, and so did Wilton, but neitheramounts to anything, and I want to tell you, Lennox, that, althoughwe're depressed, we're not withdrawing. Our general is sick a good deal,but the sicker he grows the braver he grows. We hang on. The French saywe can continue hanging on, and then the winter will drive us away. Youknow what the Quebec winter is. But we'll see. Maybe something willhappen before winter comes."
As Robert turned away from the little group he came face to face with atall young officer dressed with scrupulousness and very careful of hisdignity.
"Charteris!"[A] he exclaimed.
"Lennox!"
They shook hands with the greatest surprise and pleasure.
"When I last saw you at Ticonderoga you were a prisoner of the French,"said Robert.
"And so were you."
"But I escaped in a day or two."
"I escaped also, though not in a day or two. I was held a prisoner inQuebec all through the winter and spring and much befell me, but at lastI escaped to General Wolfe and rejoined my old command, the RoyalAmericans."
"And he took part in the battle of Montmorency, a brave part too," saidColden.
"No braver than the others. No more than you yourself, Colden,"protested Charteris.
"And 'tis said that, though he left Quebec in the night, he left hisheart there in the possession of a very lovely lady who speaks Frenchbetter than she speaks English," said Colden.
"'Tis not a subject of which you have definite information," rejoinedCharteris, flushing very red and then laughing.
But Colden, suspecting that his jest was truth rather, had too muchdelicacy to pursue the subject. Later in the day Robert returned withWillet and Tayoga and they had a reunion.
"When we take Quebec," said Tayoga to Grosvenor, "Red Coat must go backwith us into the wilderness and learn to become a great warrior. We cango beyond the Great Lakes and stay two or three years."
"I wish I could," laughed Grosvenor, "but that is one of the things Imust deny myself. If the war should be finished, I shall have to returnto England."
"St. Luc is in Quebec," said Willet. "We followed his trail a longdistance."
"Which means that our task here will be the harder," said Colden.
Robert went with Willet, Charteris and Tayoga the next day to Monckton'scamp at Point Levis, whence the English batteries had poured destructionupon the lower town of Quebec, firing across the St. Lawrence, that mostmagnificent of all rivers, where its channel was narrow. He could seethe houses lying in ashes or ruins, but above them the French flagfloated defiantly over the upper city.
"Montcalm and his lieutenants made great preparations to receive GeneralWolfe," said Charteris. "As I was in Quebec then, I know somethingabout them, and I've learned more since I escaped. They threw upearthworks, bastions and redoubts almost all the way from Quebec toMontcalm's camp at Beauport. Over there at Beauport the Marquis' firstheadquarters were located in a big stone house. Across the mouth of theSt. Charles they put a great boom of logs, fastened together by chains,and strengthened further by two cut-down ships on which they mountedbatteries. Forces passing between the city and the Beauport camp crossedthe St. Charles on a bridge of boats, and each entrance of the bridgewas guarded by earthworks. In the city they closed and fortified everygate, except the Palace Gate, through which they passed to the bridge orfrom it. They had more than a hundred cannon on the walls, a floatingbattery carried twelve more guns, and big ones too, and they had a lotof gun-boats and fire ships and fire rafts. They gathered about fifteenthousand men in the Beauport camp, besides Indians, with the regulars inthe center, and the militia on the flank. In addition to these therewere a couple of thousand in the city itself under De Ramesay, and Ithink Montcalm had, all told, near to twenty thousand men, about doubleour force, though 'tis true many of theirs are militia and we have apowerful fleet. I suppose their numbers have not decreased, and it's agreat task we've undertaken, though I think we'll achieve it."
Robert looked again and with great emotion upon Quebec, that heart andsoul of the French power in North America. Truly much water had floweddown the St. Lawrence since he was there before. He could not forget thethrill with which he had first approached it, nor could he forget thosegallant young Frenchmen who had given him a welcome, although he wasalready, in effect, an official enemy. And then, too, he had seen Bigot,Pean, Cadet and their corrupt group who were doing so much to wreck thefortunes of New France. Not all the valor of Montcalm, De Levis,Bourlamaque, St. Luc and the others could stay the work of theirdestructive hands.
The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small. It wastrue! The years had passed. The French victories in North America hadbeen numerous. Again and again they had hurled back the English andAmericans, and year after year they had dammed the flood. They hadstruck terrible blows at Duquesne and Oswego, at William Henry and atTiconderoga. But the mills of God ground on, and here at last was themight of Britain before Quebec, and Robert's heart, loyal as he was tothe mother country, always throbbed with pride when he recalled that hisown Americans were there too, the New England rangers and the staunchregiment of Royal Americans, the bravest of the brave, who had alreadygiven so much of their blood at Montmorency. In these world-shakingevents the Americans played their splendid part beside their Englishkin, as they were destined to do one hundred and fifty-nine years late
rupon the soil of Europe itself, closing up forever, as most of us hope,the cleavage between nations of the same language and same ideals.
Robert looked long at Quebec on its heights, gleaming now in the sunwhich turned it into a magic city, increasing its size, heightening thesplendor of the buildings and heightening, too, the formidable obstaclesover which Wolfe must prevail. Nature here had done wonders for thedefense. With its mighty river and mighty cliffs it seemed that acapable general and a capable army could hold the city forever.
"Aye, it's strong, Lennox," said Charteris, who read his thoughts."General Wolfe, as I know, has written back to England that it's thestrongest place in the world, and he may be right, but we've had somesuccesses here, mingled with some failures. Aside from the Battle ofMontmorency most of the land fighting has been in our favor, and ourcommand of the river through our fleet is a powerful factor in ourfavor. Yet, the short Quebec summer draws to a close, and if we take thecity we must take it soon. General Wolfe is lying ill again in a farmhouse, but his spirit is not quenched and all our operations aredirected from his sick bed."
As Charteris spoke, the batteries on the Heights of Levis opened again,pouring round shot, grape and canister upon the Lower Town. Fragments ofbuildings crashed to the earth, and other fragments burst into flames.Cannon on the frigates in the river also fired upon the devoted city andfrom the great rock cannon replied. Coils of smoke arose, and, unitinginto a huge cloud, floated westward on the wind. It was a greatspectacle and Robert's heart throbbed. But he was sad too. He had muchpity for the people of Quebec, exposed to that terrible siege and therain of death.
"We've ravaged a good deal of the country around Quebec," continuedCharteris. "It's hard, but we're trying to cut off the subsistence ofthe French army, and, on the other hand, bands of their Indian alliesraid our outposts and take scalps. It's the New England rangers mostlythat deal with these war parties, in which the French and Canadiansthemselves take a part."
"Then Tandakora will find plenty of employment here," said Willet."Nothing will give him more joy than to steal upon a sentinel in thedark and cut him down."
"And while Tandakora hunts our people," said Tayoga, "we will hunt him.What better work can we do, Great Bear, than to meet these raidingparties?"
"That's our task, Tayoga," replied the hunter.
As they turned away from the Heights of Levis the batteries were stillthundering, pouring their terrible flood of destruction upon the LowerTown, and far up on the cliffs cannon were firing at the ships in theriver. Robert looked back and his heart leaped as before. The eyes ofthe world he knew were on Quebec, and well it deserved the gaze of thenations. It was fitting that the mighty drama should be played outthere, on that incomparable stage, where earth rose up to make a fittingchannel for its most magnificent river.
"It's all that you think it is," said Charteris, again reading histhoughts; "a prize worth the efforts of the most warlike nations."
"The Quebec of the English and French," said Tayoga, "but the lostStadacona of the Mohawks, lost to them forever. Whatever the issue ofthe war the Mohawks will not regain their own."
The others were silent, not knowing what to say. A little later a tall,lank youth to whom Charteris gave a warm welcome met them.
"Been taking a look at the town, Leftenant?" he said.
"Aye, Zeb," replied Charteris. "I've been showing it to some friends ofmine who, however, have seen it before, though not under the sameconditions. These gentlemen are David Willet, Robert Lennox and Tayoga,the Onondaga, and this is Zebedee Crane,[B] a wonderful scout to whom Iowe my escape from Quebec."
Willet seized the lank lad's hand and gave it a warm grasp.
"I've heard of you, Zeb Crane," he said. "You're from the Mohawk Valleyand you're one of the best scouts and trailers in the whole Province ofNew York, or anywhere, for that matter."
"And I've heard uv all three uv you," said the boy, looking at themappreciatively. "I wuz at Ticonderogy, an' two uv you at least wuz thar.I didn't git to see you, but I heard uv you. You're a great hunter, Mr.Willet, whom the Iroquois call the Great Bear, an' ez fur Tayoga I knowthat he belongs to the Clan of the Bear uv the nation Onondaga, an' thathe's the grandest trailer the world hez ever seed."
Tayoga actually blushed under his bronze.
"The flattery of my friends should be received at a heavy discount," hesaid in his prim, precise English.
"It ain't no flattery," said Zebedee. "It's the squar' an' solid truth.I've heard tales uv you that are plum' impossible, but I know that theyhev happened all the same. Ef they wuz to tell me that you had trackedthe wild goose through the air or the leapin' salmon through the waterI'd believe 'em."
"It would be very little exaggeration," said Robert, earnestly. "Bequiet, Tayoga! If we want to sing your praises we'll sing 'em and youcan't help it."
The five recrossed the river together, and went to Wolfe's camp belowthe town facing the Montmorency, Charteris going back into camp with theRoyal Americans to whom he belonged, and the others going as free lanceswith the New England rangers. Robert also resumed his acquaintance withCaptain Whyte and Lieutenant Lanhan of the _Hawk_, who were delighted tomeet him again.
Soon they found that there was much for them to do. Robert's heart bledat the sight of the devastated country. Houses and farms were in ruinsand their people fled. Everywhere war had blazed a red path. Nor was itsafe for the rangers unless they were in strong parties. FerociousIndians roamed about and cut off all stragglers, sometimes those oftheir own French or Canadian allies. Once they came upon the trail ofTandakora. They found the dead bodies of four English soldiers lyingbeside an abandoned farm house, and Tayoga, looking at the traces in theearth, told the tale as truly as if he had been there.
"Tandakora and his warriors stood behind these vines," he said, going toa little arbor. "See their traces and in the center of them the printsleft by the gigantic footsteps of the Ojibway chief. The house had beenplundered by some one, maybe by the warriors themselves, before thesoldiers came. Then the Ojibway and his band hid here and waited. It waseasy for them. The soldiers knew nothing of wilderness war, and theycame up to the house, unsuspecting. They were at the front door, whenTandakora and his men fired. Three of them fell dead where they lie. Thefourth was wounded and tried to escape. Tandakora ran from behind thevines. Here goes his trail and here he stopped, balanced himself andthrew his tomahawk."
"And it clove the wounded soldier's head," said Robert. "Here he lies,telling the rest of the tale."
They buried the four, but they found new tragedies. Thus the month ofAugust with its successes and failures, its attacks and counter-attacksdragged on, as the great siege of Quebec waged by Phipps and the NewEnglanders nearly three-quarters of a century before had dragged.
[A] The story of Edward Charteris is told in the author's novel, "A Soldier of Manhattan."
[B] The story of Zeb Crane and his remarkable achievements is contained in the author's novel, "A Soldier of Manhattan."
The Sun of Quebec: A Story of a Great Crisis Page 16