CHAPTER XLV.
Day dawned brightly and clearly over the wild woods, the greensavannahs, the streams, the lakes, and mountains that lay betweenHoricon, or Lake George, and the small chain of Indian lakes. Theadvanced party of the Oneidas were up, and bustling with the earliestbeam--bustling, but in their quiet manner. All were actively clearingaway every trace of their sojourn from the face of the savannah as faras possible, and preparing to betake themselves to the shade of theneighbouring woods; but Sister Bab was still sound asleep.
Amongst those who have travelled much over that part of the country,there may be some who remember a beautiful and rich green meadow,extending for about a third of a mile from its inland extremity to theshores of Horicon. It has now--and it is not much altered since thetime I speak of--a sloping ground, well covered with wood, to thenorthward of this grassy plot; and on the south is, a rocky but stillwell-wooded bank, in which several small caves are to be observed.
In one of these caves lay the negress, on the morning I have justmentioned; and though the Indians moved about in different directions,and removed a large iron pot of European workmanship which had beenplaced near the entrance of the cavern, the good woman, in the sleepof fatigue and exhaustion, showed no sign whatever of waking.
Few had been the explanations which she had given on the precedingnight. She was too weary to indulge in her usual loquacity; and theIndian sat quietly before her, after having supplied all that sherequired, seeing her eat and drink, but putting no questions.
Now, however, he approached the hollow in the rock; and, after gazingat her for an instant as she lay, he moved her with his moccassinedfoot. She started up and rubbed her eyes, looking round with evidentwonder; but the Indian said,--
"Get up, and follow into the woods, if thou wouldst see the BlackEagle. We must leave the ground that has no shadow, now that the dayhas come."
"Ah me!" cried Sister Bab, "what shall I do for my poor Missy? She isa prisoner with the French, not more than a few miles hence; and, whatis worse still, the Woodchuck is with her, and all our people said hewas going to give himself up to save Massa Walter."
Quietly and deliberately, the Indian seated himself on the ground, andremained silent for a moment or two. He then asked, without theslightest appearance of interest,--
"Where is the daughter of Prevost? Is she at the castle of theSounding Waters?"
Sister Bab replied, "No;" and, as far as she could describe it,explained to her companion where Edith was, and gave him no veryinaccurate notion of the sort of field-work on which she had stumbledthe night before. Still not a muscle of the man's face moved; and hemerely uttered a sort of hum at this intelligence, sitting for fulltwo minutes without uttering a word.
"What can we do, brother, to save them?" asked Sister Bab at length,"I don't think there's any danger either to Missy or Massa Woodchuck,because the young man in the blue coat seemed very civil; but then, ifMassa Woodchuck not get away, your people will kill Massa Walter. Forsix months will be over very soon."
"Six moons have grown big and small since the Black Eagle spoke," saidthe Indian gravely; "but we will see whether there be not a trail theprisoners can tread. You must get up quickly, and walk before me,but without noise, to where you left them like a cloud upon themountain-side."
"It's a long way," said the poor woman; "and my feet are all cut andtorn with yesterday's ramble."
"We will give thee moccassins," answered the Indian. "The way is notlong, even to the house of the Sounding Waters, if you keep the trailstraight. Thou must show me, if thou wouldst save Prevost's daughter.Her fate is a toppling stone upon the edge of a precipice. A wind willblow it down. The French Hurons do not spare women. Come, get thee up;eat, and talk not. I must know this place, and that quickly."
The last words were spoken somewhat sternly; and Sister Bab rose up,and followed to one of the little groups of Indians, where she seatedherself again, and ate some cakes of maize and dried deer's-flesh,while the chief who had been speaking with her held a consultationwith several of the other warriors. Not much time was allowed her forher meal, for in less than five minutes she was called upon to leadthe way; and, followed by a party of five Indians, she proceeded for amile or two, till they reached a spot where the trail divided intotwo. She was about to take the left-hand path, knowing that it was theone which she had followed on the preceding night; but the chiefcommanded her in a low voice to turn her steps upon the other, adding,"We shall come upon thy foot-prints again speedily."
So indeed it proved, for she had wandered during the night far fromthe direct course; and after walking on for some ten minutes, they cutinto the former path again, where, to Indian eyes, the traces of anegro foot were very apparent.
Twice the same thing occurred; and thus the distance was shortened tonearly one-half of that which she had travelled on the preceding nightbetween the little masked redoubt of the French and the Indiancamping-place.
At length, the objects which Sister Bab saw around her gave warningthat she was approaching the spot of which they were in search. Fromtime to time Mount Defiance was seen towering up on the right, and thecharacter of the shrubs and trees was changed. The first hint sufficedto make the Indians adopt much greater precautions than those whichthey had previously used. They spread wide from the trail, the chiefleading Sister Bab with him; and slowly and noiselessly they pursuedtheir way, taking advantage of every tree and every rock to hidebehind and gaze around.
Before five minutes more were over, Sister Bab paused suddenly, andpointed forward. The Indian gazed in silence. To an unpractised eye,nothing would have been apparent to excite the slightest suspicion ofa neighbouring enemy; but some of the pine branches of what seemed alow copse in front, were a shade yellower than the other trees.Besides, they did not take the forms of young saplings. They wererounder, less taper, without leaving shoot or peak.
A grin came upon the Indian's countenance; and pointing with hisfinger to the ground, he seemed, without words, to direct the negressto remain exactly on the same spot where she stood behind a greatbutternut-tree. He then looked round him for his companions; but theirmovements were well combined and understood. Though at some distancefrom each other, each eye from time to time had been turned towardshim as they advanced; and the moment it was perceived that he stopped,each of the others stopped also. His raised hand brought them allcreeping quietly towards him; and then, after a few whispered words,each Indian sank down upon the ground, and, creeping along like asnake, disappeared amongst the bushes.
Sister Bab found her situation not altogether pleasant. The slightestpossible rustle in the leaves was heard as her red companionsdisappeared; but then all sounds ceased, except from time to time whenthe wind, which had risen a little, bore her some murmurs from theredoubt, as if of voices speaking. Once she caught a few notes of amerry air, whistled by lips that were probably soon after doomed toeverlasting silence. But that was all she heard, and the stillnessgrew oppressive to her.
After waiting for a moment or two, she sought a deeper shelter thanthe butternut-tree afforded, and crept amongst some thick shrubs atthe foot of a large oak. She thought her Indian companions would neverreturn; but at length one of the red men looked out from the bushes,and then another; and both gazed around as if in search of her.Following their example, she crept forth; and the chief, approaching,beckoned her away without speaking.
When far enough off to be quite certain that no sound of voicescould reach the redoubt, he stopped suddenly and gazed in her face,saying,--
"You love the daughter of the pale-face; you followed her where therewas danger; will you go where there is no danger, to bear her thewords of warning?"
"I will go anywhere to do her any good," answered the woman warmly. "Iam not afraid of danger. I had enough of it yesterday to make mecareless of it, to-day."
"Well, then," said the chief, "thou seest this trail to the left;follow it till it crosses another. Then turn to the right on the oneit crosses--it is a broad trail, th
ou canst not miss it. It will leadthee straight into the Frenchman's ambush. They will not hurt thee.Ask for the daughter of the pale-face Prevost. Tell them thou hastpassed the night in the woods seeking for her, and they will let theestay with her. Tell her she shall have deliverance before the sun hasset to-morrow; but bid her, when she hears the war-whoop and the shotof the rifle, to cast herself down flat on the ground beneath theearth-heap, if she be near at the time. She knows the Oneida people;she can tell their faces from the Hurons, though the war-paint bebright upon them. She need not fear them. Tell her secretly when noone hears; and what I tell her to do, do thou, if thou wouldst savethy life."
"But," suggested Bab, with more foresight than the Indian, "perhapsthey will not keep her there till to-morrow. They may send her into thefort--most likely will."
"Bid her stay, bid her stay," said the chief; "if they force her away,I have no arm to hold her. Go on. I have said."
The negress shook her head, as if much doubting the expediency of theplan proposed; but she obeyed without further remonstrance; andwalking on upon the little narrow path which the Indian had pointedout, she reached, in about a quarter of an hour, the broader trail,along which Edith had been taken on the preceding night. Turning tothe right, as directed, she followed it with slow and somewhathesitating steps, till suddenly a sharp turn brought her in sight oftwo sentinels, pacing backwards and forwards, and a group of Indiansseated on the ground round a fire, cooking their food. Then she haltedabruptly, but she was already seen: and, receiving no answer to hischallenge, one of the sentinels presented his musket, as if to fire.At the same moment a voice exclaimed in French, "What's that--what'sthat?" and a man in the garb of a soldier, but unarmed, came forwardand spoke to her.
She could make no reply, for she did not understand a word he said;and, taking her by the wrist, the man led her into the redoubt, sayingto a sentinel, with a laugh,--
"It's only a black woman; did you take her for a bear?"
The next instant poor Bab beheld her young mistress quietly seated onthe ground, with a pure white tablecloth spread before her, and allthe appurtenances of a breakfast-table, though not the table itself;while the officer she had seen in the redoubt the night before wasapplying himself assiduously to supply her with all she wanted. In amoment the good woman had shaken her wrist free from the man who heldit; and, darting forward, she caught Edith's hand, and smothered itwith kisses.
Great was Edith's joy and satisfaction to see poor Bab still in life.It was soon explained to the French officer who she was, and how shecame thither. But the object of her coming had nearly been frustratedbefore she had time to explain to her young mistress the promisedrescue; for, ere she had been half an hour within the works, anon-commissioned officer from Ticonderoga appeared with a despatch forthe commander of the party, who at once proposed to send the younglady and her dark attendant, under the officer's charge, to thefortress, expressing gallantly his regret to lose the honour andpleasure of her society, but adding that it would be for herconvenience and safety.
The suggestion was made before he opened the despatch, and Editheagerly caught at a proposal which seemed to offer relief from a veryunpleasant situation. But as soon as the captain had seen the contentsof his letter, his views were changed, and he explained to his youngprisoner that, for particular reasons, the commander-in-chief thoughtit best that there should be as little passing to and fro, during theperiod of daylight, between the fortress and the redoubt, as possible.He would therefore, he said, be obliged to inform his superiorofficer, in the first place, of her being there, and of thecircumstances in which she had fallen under his protection, as hetermed it; adding that probably after nightfall, when the sameobjections would not exist, he would receive instructions as to whatwas to be done both with herself and companions, and with the Indiansin whose power he had found her.
He then sat down to write a reply to the despatch he had received, andoccupied fully half an hour in its composition, during which time allthat sister Bab had to say was spoken. The very name of the Oneidas,however, awakened painful memories in Edith's breast; and,notwithstanding all the assurances she had received from Otaitsa, herheart sank at the thought of poor Walter's probable fate. She turnedher eyes towards Woodchuck, who had refused to take any breakfast, andsat apart under a tree, not far from the spot where Apukwa and hiscompanions, kept in sight constantly by a sentinel, were gatheredround their cooking-fire. His attitude was the most melancholy thatcan be conceived; his eyes were fixed upon the ground, his headdrooping, his brow heavy and contracted, and his hands claspedtogether on his knee. Edith moved quietly towards him, and seatedherself near, saying,--
"What is the matter, my good friend?" She then added, in a low voice,"I have some pleasant news for you."
Woodchuck shook his head sadly, but made no answer; and Edithcontinued seeking to cheer him.
"The poor negro woman," added she, "who was with me when we wereattacked, escaped the savages, it seems, and has brought an intimationthat, before to-morrow's sunset, we shall be set free by a large partyof the Oneidas."
"It is too late, my dear, it is too late!" ejaculated Woodchuck,pressing his hands tight together; "too late to do anything for yourpoor brother; it was him I was thinking of."
"But there are still four or five days of the time," said Edith,"and----"
"I've been a fool, Miss Prevost," interrupted Woodchuck bitterly; "andthere's no use concealing it from you. I have mistaken moons formonths. The man who brought me the news of what that stern old devil,Black Eagle, had determined, said the time allowed was six months, andI never thought of the Indians counting their months by moons, till Iheard those Honontkoh saying something about it this morning. No, no!it's all useless now, it's all useless!"
Edith turned deadly pale, and remained so for a moment or two; butthen she lifted her eyes to a spot of the blue sky shining through thetrees above, and, with a deep sigh, ejaculated,--
"We must trust in God, then, and hope He has provided other and lessterrible means. He can protect and deliver according to His will,without the aid or instrumentality of man. You have done your best,Woodchuck, and your conscience should rest satisfied."
"No, no!" he exclaimed bitterly; "if I had but thought of what I knewquite well, I should have gone a fortnight sooner, and the poor ladwould have been saved. It's all the fault of my stupid mistake. A manshould make no mistakes in such emergencies, Miss Edith."
He fell into a fit of thought again; and, seeing that, the attempt tocomfort him was vain, Edith returned to the side of the black woman,and inquired eagerly if she had found any tidings of Walter amongstthe Oneidas. Sister Bab, however, was more cautious than poorWoodchuck had been, and denied stoutly having heard anything, addingthat she could not think they had done any harm to her young "massa,"or they would not be so eager to help her young "missy."
The smallest gleam of hope is always a blessing; still, the day passedsadly enough to poor Edith. The commandant of the redoubt was occupiedwith military business which she did not comprehend, and whichafforded no relief to her thoughts, even for a moment. She saw thesoldiers parading, the sentinels relieved, the earthworks inspected,and the Indians harangued, without one thought being withdrawn fromthe painful circumstances of her own fate.
Shortly after dusk, however, the same servant who had brought thedespatch in the morning, re-appeared with another letter, which theFrench commandant read, and then carried to Edith in the little hutwhere she was seated, with her lamp just trimmed and lighted.
"The Marquis of Montcalm informs Captain le Courtois that it will begreatly inconvenient to receive any additional mouths into FortCarillon. Should he think fit, he can send the lady who has falleninto his hands, with the English gentleman, her companion, back toCrown Point[4] or Fort St. Frederick, as early to-morrow as he thinksfit. If the lady earnestly prefers to retire to Fort Carillon at once,the Marquis of Montcalm will not be so wanting in courtesy as torefuse; but he begs to warn her that she may be subjected to al
l theinconveniences of a siege, as he cannot at all tell what course ofoperations the enemy may think fit to pursue. The Indians taken, ifwilling, as they say, to serve, may be usefully employed within theredoubt, but with caution, and must not be suffered to operate uponthe flanks as usual."
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[Footnote 4: I find it stated, that the fort referred to did notreceive the name of Crown Point till after its capture by the English;but it is so called by contemporary English writers.]
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"It is for you to say, mademoiselle," observed Monsieur le Courtois,"whether you will now go to the fort or not."
Edith, however, declined, saying that the reasons given by Monsieur deMontcalm were quite sufficient to induce her to remain till it wasconvenient to send her elsewhere.
Thus ended that eventful week. The following day was Sunday--a day notfit to be desecrated by human strife, but one which was destined tobehold on that very spot one of those scenes which write man's shamein letters of blood upon the page of history.
The Black Eagle; or, Ticonderoga Page 45