CHAPTER IX
PRISONERS
The wild cry of "The Indians! the Indians!" had roused a small groupfrom their desultory enjoyment. They were pouring down in what seemed acountless throng. Marchand had no weapon except his knife.
"Run," he cried. "Make for the fort! Keep at the edge of the wood whilewe can!"
Wawataysee seized Renee's hand. The Indian girl was as fleet as a deer.She could have saved herself, but she would not leave the child. Theyhad now reached the open. All was screams and confusion and flyingfugitives.
A tall Indian was behind them with a club. Wawataysee gave a wild shriekand the next instant stumbled over her husband's prostrate body. TheIndian rushed on.
"Oh!" cried Renee in wild affright, standing still in terror, the flyingcrowd like swirling leaves before her eyes.
The sharp crack of a rifle made her spring back. Were both killed now?But Wawataysee moved, groaned.
"They have shot him now, my beloved!" She raised the bleeding head andpressed it to her bosom. "Oh, he has been killed, I know. Why did I notdie with him? Oh, Renee--"
Escape now was as impossible as succor. The Indian girl moaned over herhusband, and made a futile attempt to drag him back to the edge of thewood to hide him. But suddenly she was violently wrenched away, and anIndian with a hand hold of each began to run with them toward the river.At last Renee fell and he had to pause. Meanwhile the firing from thefort had begun with its execution.
Wawataysee began to plead with her captor, who turned a deaf ear to herentreaties. Renee was crying in a desperate fashion, from both frightand fatigue. He raised his club, but the young wife clasped the child inher arms.
"Kill us both," she exclaimed, "as you have already killed my husband."
"White man?" with a grunt. "Squaw woman. Make some Indian glad." Otherprisoners were being brought in this direction, and among them MereLunde, who had started to reach the fort and bear the tidings toGaspard.
"Oh, my dear child," she cried. "The good God help us. They are tryingto take the town." And she almost fell at their feet.
Then they were marched on, the Indian guards behind with clubs andtomahawks, now and then goaded by a light blow that would not disable.The cries grew fainter, though they still heard the roar of the cannon.
And now the sun was slanting westward and the trees cast long shadows,the sound of the river fell on their ears mingled with the homeward songof birds. The heat began to wane, the air was dewy sweet.
It was almost dusk when they reached the boats, and they were bidden toget in and were conveyed to the opposite shore. Here they were boundtogether, two and two, with their hands fastened behind them. One Indianwas detailed to watch them while the others took the boats back.
Ducharme's arm hung helplessly by his side, and the English renegadesbegan to upbraid him, while the Indians, seeing that no pillage waspossible and no gain could be made, drew away sullenly and began tomarch toward the rendezvous, leaving some of their own badly woundedbehind. It was midnight before they rejoined the others. Then, fearingpursuit, they started up the river again, rousing those who had fallenasleep. All told they had barely thirty prisoners, and had left as manyof their own behind.
Mere Lunde had been allowed near the two girls, and now they huddledtogether in the boat. Renee had fallen asleep again.
"You do not know where they will take us?" Mere Lunde inquired.
Wawataysee shook her head. "They will go up the Illinois River," shewhispered.
"Do you think they will not follow?" in a low, desperate tone. "MasterDenys and--"
"Oh, _he_ is dead," with a heart-breaking moan. "I held him to my heartand he made no stir, I kissed his cold lips and there was no warmth. Butfor the sweet child I should have begged them to kill me too, so that myspirit should be with his. If she could be restored safely, my own lifeI would hold as nothing."
"They have started ere this. Do not despair," and her lips were close tothe Indian girl's ear.
"Then I shall thank the Great Spirit for the child's sake." Heaven grantthey might be rescued.
The stir and lap of the river and the boats had a mysterious sound inthe weird darkness. Then the cry of some wild animal or a bit of windsweeping through the trees at the edge, here and there. The stars shoneout overhead. Mere Lunde dropped asleep also. But Wawataysee sat withwide-open eyes. One moment she said to herself that he could not bedead, the next his white face and half-closed, dulled eyes were againsther breast. She felt as if she must shriek and tear her hair, but therewas the Indian's self-control, and the thought of her companions whomight be made to suffer for her. But she could not go out of life forher own satisfaction merely, unless it came to the martyrdom worse thandeath, for the child was a sacred charge. Gaspard Denys would go to thedeath, even, for both of them, and she was grateful for all the kindnessand countenance he had given her at St. Louis.
They turned up a small stream, tributary to the Illinois. At noon theydrew the boats up to what looked like an impenetrable brushwood, anddisembarked, pulling in the boats and canoes. There was a sort oftrodden path through the wild shrubbery, and tangled vines overhung it.Two of the Indians went ahead, the prisoners were driven next, and therest of the party brought up the rear.
"Oh, where are we going?" cried Renee in affright, clutchingWawataysee's dress with both hands.
The girl shook her head.
They were stiff from their cramped position in the boats and faint fromhunger. Now and then one received a blow and an admonition to hurry on.At length they came in sight of a clearing, an Indian settlement, withwigwams and a space planted with corn. Women were moving about overtheir fires, children playing or stretched out in the sun. Skins weretacked from tree to tree drying, and several women were busy makinggarments and leggings, some young girls cutting fringes. It was apretty, restful scene to the tired travellers.
An old man rose, it almost seemed from the earth itself. He was thin andgaunt, hollow-cheeked and wrinkled to the last degree. From his attireand his head-dress of feathers one could gather that he was the chief ofthe small settlement.
"Why all this warlike array and these prisoners?" he asked sharply. "Weare at peace with our white brothers. We have gathered in the remnant ofour tribe, we have few young braves among us, we are mostly women andchildren. We have nothing to be despoiled of, we do no hunting save forourselves."
"We want only a little food and rest, good father Neepawa. We will notmolest you and yours. We are going up to the Great Lakes. We have beenled astray by a white chief who promised us much plunder, but the townwas too strong for us. He has gone south to one of the English forts andtaken some of his followers, leaving the prisoners with us. Give us somefood and we will go on."
Their request was acceded to, but with no special cordiality. The thingthey would most have liked was whiskey, but that was not to be suppliedat this simple Indian village.
"Oh, if we could stay here!" sighed Renee. "Do you know where they meanto take us?" and her eyes dilated with fear.
"Only that we are going farther north."
Wawataysee was fain to have some conversation with the Indian women, butshe soon saw that every effort was adroitly frustrated. Still, they werefed abundantly and some provisions given the party. They reembarked latein the afternoon and made their way down to the Illinois River and upfarther on their journey, until their provisions were gone, when theywere obliged to land again.
After foraging about awhile they met a party of Indians and tradersquite plentifully supplied with whiskey. This led to quarrels anddisputes. A number of them were tired of having the prisoners to feed,and had changed their minds about going north. They were roving Indianswho had no strong ties anywhere. Half a dozen decided to cast in theirlot with the traders.
And now those going on picked out the most likely of the prisoners. Someof the strong young men who would be useful in the capacity of slaves,one half-breed woman who had astuteness enough to make herself ofaccount in preparing food and did not r
esent the small indignitiesoffered.
As they marched down to the river's edge these were first put on theboat. Then Wawataysee and the child. Mere Lunde started to follow, butwas rudely thrust back.
"I must, I must!" she shrieked, struggling with her captor; "I must staywith the child!"
"Push off!" was the command. Three Indians stepped in and the boat waspropelled out in the stream. Then Wawataysee saw what had happened andhalf rose, crying wildly that they should take on the poor creaturebegging in her desperation.
"She is ours! We cannot do without her!"
The Indian pushed her down on her seat and uttered a rough threat.
"Oh, what will they do with her?" shrieked Renee.
A blow was the only answer. Renee fell into her companion's lap sobbingwildly. Wawataysee tried to soothe and comfort her. But she feltstrangely defenceless. The half-breed she mistrusted. If there could besome escape! She studied every point. They were no longer bound, but outhere on the river one could do nothing.
So passed another night and day and a second night. No place of refugehad been found in their brief landings. But they reached anothersettlement, not as orderly or inviting as that of Chief Neepawa. Still,they were glad of a rest. And now their captors seemed undecided again.Two or three were already tired of the journey with its hardships.
An Indian woman found a place in her wigwam for the two girls. They werebound at night and their keeper had strict injunctions about them.
The Elk Horn, as one of the most authoritative Indians was called, nowassumed the command. He had an idea, that he kept quite to himself, thathe might dispose of his prisoners to some advantage, to make up in partfor the ill-advised raid on St. Louis. There were many roving Indiansabout whose tribes had been decimated by wars and sickness, and whoattached themselves to the English or American cause, whichever offeredthe most profit, and who liked a lawless, wandering life and plunder.
The keeper seemed kindly disposed toward the two girls and treated themwell, though she watched them sharply. Wawataysee had been careful totalk in a patois of broken French and the Sioux that she had picked up.She understood nearly all that her captors said and thus held them at adisadvantage, but she could not learn what Elk Horn's plans were, ifindeed he had any certain ones. She admitted that she had left a husbandin St. Louis, for there were moments when she could not believe himdead, and that this was the end of their tender love! And she was young,she had just tasted of the sweetness of it all.
There were hours of heart-break, when it seemed as if she could notendure Renee's prattle, and would fain shake off the soft touch on herarm, the kisses on her forehead, for the awful, desperate want of theother kisses, the other clasp. And oh, how strong the longing was attimes to throw herself headlong into the river and let her spirit oflove fly to that other land, that the good God provided for Hischildren.
Then she would think of Gaspard Denys and his love for the little maid.He had seen enough of the cruelty of her race to know the danger. Ah,why had the great All-Father allowed any human beings to become suchfiends? Up in her northern home she had heard things that turned theblood to ice. And she had been so near the white settlements.
Yes, she must care for the little one, keep with her, befriend her, tryto restore her to her dear protector.
It was best to claim that Renee was her little sister by adoption. Ifthey could only get back! Why should they go up north? What was thatmore than any other place!
The woman at this would shake her head doubtfully. Yet Wawataysee couldsee that she softened, and once she asked how far it was to St. Louis,and how one could get there.
Wawataysee's heart beat high with hope. Yet how could two girls reachthere alone? They might meet other Indian bands who would capture them.There were wild animals. And they might not get a canoe. They had nomoney. Still, she would escape if they could and pray to the good God tokeep them safe. Often and often she and Renee comforted themselves withthe sweet, brief prayers they had learned. And oh, where was poor MereLunde!
Several days of rest were vouchsafed to them. Then one day a company ofhunters joined them, among which there were a few white prisoners aswell. One, a young fellow, strolled about with evident curiosity, andcame upon the girls in a leafy covert near the wig-wam. They were givena little liberty by their keeper on promising by the Great Manitou theywould not attempt to escape.
"It would be of no use," said the woman. "An alarm would be given, andyou do not know your way anywhere. Then you might be beaten when youwere captured, and confined with thongs. Have patience. Sometimes allthe braves go off to hunt."
The young man listened to the French with delight. Two of the othercaptives were English and they had conversed mostly with signs andIndian words they had picked up.
Renee heard a stir in the leaves and started with a little cry. The handwas raised for silence.
"Pardon me. I will do you no harm," he said, with an appeal in hisvoice. "It was the language that sounded so sweet to me. I am French. Icome from Detroit. But we fell in with a band of Indians and only threeof us escaped unhurt. We were made prisoners."
"And we are prisoners, too," returned Wawataysee, with a sigh. "We comefrom St. Louis."
"St. Louis! How strange! I had meant to go there. I have an uncle,Pierre Valbonais."
"Oh, I know!" cried Renee with delight, as if she had found a friend."He comes in my uncle's shop; and Uncle Gaspard likes him. They sit andsmoke together."
"And I am Andre Valbonais. We are companions in adversity, bothprisoners. Whither are you going?"
Wawataysee shook her head. "We do not know, m'sieu."
He laughed softly. "How natural that sounds! I am glad to hear afamiliar voice. Neither do I know my destination. It is one thingto-day, another to-morrow. I do not think they know themselves. BlackFeather is chief of the gang. Now and then they quarrel. He killed twoIndians not more than a week ago who wanted to have their own way, buthe has not been cruel to us. Still, I dream of escape continually."
"Ah, if we could compass it together!" and Wawataysee's beautiful eyeswent to his very heart.
The woman came out with her beadwork in her hand.
"You are not of our people," she said. "You have no right here. Go yourway."
"Perhaps not. I am a sort of compulsory guest, but I will say adieu,"and bowing, he disappeared in the shrubbery; but his last glance said hewould find them again.
"Who was it?" The woman looked from one to the other.
"He is French, and a prisoner. The chief is Black Feather. But the youngman comes from Detroit."
She gave a nod, as if she knew this much already.
Elk Horn and Black Feather had cemented a friendship over their whiskey.They would start the next morning. The word was given to be early astir,and the woman roused them.
"Every step takes us farther away," said Wawataysee regretfully. Yetthey would be in the company of Valbonais, who had resolved upon escape.
She walked slowly down to the river's edge, holding Renee by the hand.Black Feather caught sight of her. Her tall, lithe figure, her airystep, the poise of the head, had a touch of familiarity. Ah, yes! andthe name. The pretty Firefly had been taken away from the strait by awhite trader, and her brother had been unsuccessful in his attempt tocapture her. Ah, if this was she, then he was truly in luck!
He did not attempt to come nearer, but saw her and the child step intothe boat. Elk Horn took command of this. Black Feather gathered hissmall force together, and his boatload of treasures of different kindswith which he could purchase supplies, and the other looked on withenvy.
All day Black Feather watched warily, more and more certain that thisgirl would prove a treasure to him if he managed rightly. He would buyher of Elk Horn.
"What do you know about her?" he inquired. "She comes from St. Louis.Who was her father? for she has Indian blood, and I am sure I know hertribe."
Elk Horn looked amazed. "I believe she married a trader and came withhim. I will ask her."
>
"No. Cannot some of the men tell you?"
"Oh, I think so. Have you been smitten with her charms?"
The Indian nodded, but his face showed no emotion.
They made a rude camp for the night and proceeded to cook some supper.
"I have found out," announced Elk Horn. "A Frenchman, Marchand, marriedher. He was killed, I believe, in the assault on the town."
"Yes, I like her. I will buy her of you. Let us make a bargain."
"And the little one?" inquiringly.
"Oh, I do not want her. Yet she has some beauty, according to pale-faceideas. But no, I will take only the Indian girl."
They ate their supper of broiled fish, and then smoked in the gatheringdarkness. Elk Horn deliberated. He had not exactly thought of sellingher, though it was often done with female captives. He had two wivesnow, and did not want to be burdened with a third who was a helplessyoung girl. Wives were for profit, in his estimation.
Black Feather was as wary. He was not sure he wanted to marry her. Shemight prove turbulent and headstrong. Half breeds were not as tractableas Indian women. And they were not as strong. They might die on yourhands, and what, then, would one have for the bargain?
"You will take the child. I will not part them. You can spare a triflemore. She will soon grow up."
Black Feather shrugged his shoulders and was silent.
"Then there is no bargain," declared Elk Horn. "I will offer my wares tosome other chief. I think of one farther up in the Illinois country. Butour ways may be together a few days longer. It need not make illfriends."
Black Feather brought out some whiskey. He knew how to tempt hisbrother. To have a supply of this for days would be more satisfying thanany future gain. For the present was the great thing to the Indian'simprovident nature. And so Black Feather made his bargain, including thechild that he really did not care for. Yet perhaps it would be betternot to separate them at present.
Elk Horn had not slept off all his potion. His compeer was awake early,and had laid aside the promised treasures for his inspection. Then hecalled his men and stealthily manned his own boats. He judged rightlythat Elk Horn would not leave the place until the last drop of firewaterhad been drained, and then it would take him a few days to get over hisdebauch.
"Come," he exclaimed roughly, at length. "Here is your portion--beads,wampum, skins and whiskey."
Elk Horn nodded and rubbed his bleared eyes. He looked at the goods andthey seemed magnified to his sight, so adroitly were they spread about.
"Ugh! It is early," with a yawn.
"I must be on my way. You can overtake me at night. We will share thesame fire, and I will have everything prepared for my brother. But Iwish you to rouse the two captives and have them ready also. You willlead them to the boat, so there need be no disturbance."
Elk Horn considered. Wawataysee might object to her new master. He felthis part had been rather underhand, but was she not his property?
They were a little surprised at the summons, and to be hurried offwithout breakfast. The canoes were already out in the river. The largerboat had a few men in it. Elk Horn put in Renee first.
"Where are we going?" the Indian girl asked, turning toward him.
"Up the river," roughly, in a thick, guttural voice. "Come, get in."
She stepped aboard, not especially remarking the men. Then suddenly hereye fell upon Valbonais, who greeted her with a joyous expression. Hadhe been handed over to Elk Horn? She experienced a certain contentment,and suspicion was allayed.
But as they emerged from the shadow of the overhanging trees she sawthat all the faces were strange. She had not noted the newcomers in thecamp, having been kept in seclusion, and it also being her choice. Now achill of terror ran over her. Noting the aspect of two of the rowersmore closely, she saw to her dismay that they were Hurons. One man hadhis head turned from her and bowed down.
"Why do we go so early?" asked Renee. "And we have had no breakfast."
"I do not know," tremblingly.
"And why did Elk Horn stay on shore?"
"Did he?" with a curious lift of the brows.
"Oh, yes; I saw him. And these men--oh, where are Pierre and Jules? Butthere is the young man who came and talked to us. Oh, Wawataysee, shallwe never stay anywhere again? How can we get back to St. Louis?"
"Hush, dear; hush!"
"But I am getting hungry. And I am so tired of sailing."
She leaned her head down on Wawataysee's lap. Every moment the Indiangirl grew more terrified. True, Elk Horn and his men might come on. Butthese Hurons!
The boat glided along. The sun rose higher and made of the river a bandof gold and gems, where each little wavelet dazzled in strange colors.They passed great plains where grass grew rank and waved in the windlike another sea of green. Then a belt of pines or walnut, the firststanding stiff and strong, the others mound-like.
The bowed figure had straightened itself and spoken to the men, but notturned his face. Now he gave an order and the boat swerved in toward theshore, grating a little on the pebbly beach. The other one in advanceturned also. Some food was distributed. He spoke in the Huron language,and said they must make Bear Creek by night.
It was dreadful to go out in the broiling sun again, but presently acooling breeze blew up. They passed a chain of boats well laden, goingdown, the French sailors singing a merry lilt, and they gave each othergreeting. The shadows began to grow longer and a reviving fragrance waswafted over from the shore edge. There were fields abloom with gayflowers, then shrubby clumps, and when the sun went down they had neareda little cove where one could see two rather dilapidated wigwams. Herethey were to stop for the night.
The men began to make a fire, while provisions were brought out of theboat. The two girls had been left alone, but now the chief--Wawatayseeknew he was that by his dress and a long black feather stuck through thetopknot of hair--turned to her. Oh, then she was quite sure she had seenhim before and her heart stood still. Yes, it was in that life she hadfled from.
He addressed her in the Huron tongue; she answered irrelevantly inFrench. A frown crossed his brow, but he handed them both out of theboat with a firm grasp on the arm of each, and led them to the smallertent of the two. Some fir and hemlock branches had been thrown on theground and covered with a blanket.
"You and the child will be safe here. You will be well guarded," with acruel little smile. "Some supper will be sent you. Compose yourself."
She gave no sign of recognition.
"You cannot deceive me, Firefly of the Hurons, even if some French blooddoes course in your veins and you are tricked out in this attire. Yourbrother's anger was kindled against you when you made him break hisword, when you ran off with a vile Frenchman. If you could have beenfound justice would have been swift and sure. And now you will go back.You will not be a wife this time, but a slave to your master and hisother wives."
"I am a wife already," she answered proudly in his language, since itwas no use to feign. "I have been wedded a year by a priest, and theGreat Manitou will call down vengeance upon those who dare interferewith his ordinances. And what right have you to bring me here?"
"I bought you, Mistress Insolence. And I shall double my price when theChief Pamussac hears that you will be at his service."
There was a little dagger lying in a treasure box at home. Her husbandhad given it to her. If she had it here she would stab him to the heart.
"Well, what is your reply?" he asked in a tone of triumph. "Your whitelord is dead. He cannot come at your call."
"My reply is that we are both hungry and want some supper," she returnedin an impatient tone. "And then some more blankets," glancingdisdainfully at the pile of boughs. "You will hardly double your moneyif you starve or maltreat me. I may die on your hands."
Black Feather was more than amazed at the effrontery of the girl. Hestared at her, and his fingers worked as if he would like to clutch herby the throat. Yes, what she said was true enough.
Wawataysee knew
well that an Indian despised any sign of weakness orcowardice, and that to secure good treatment she must put on theboldness of the soldier who does not fear even death, and from whom hispersecutors can extort no groan.
"I will send you some supper. And guards shall be set to keep you fromharm," in a mocking tone.
"Take my thanks for that," she flung out sharply. "I am mortally afraidof the wild beasts of the forests. And I would like some sleep afterthis hot, fatiguing day and the early start of the morning."
"Oh, what did he say?" and Renee clung to her with desperation. "He wasso fierce I thought he would kill us. And why are we here? Where is ElkHorn?"
"My little darling, it seems that we have been sold and are to be takenup north, unless the Great Manitou or the pitying Virgin listens to ourprayers and sends us rescue. It is a long way and something may happen."
Renee began to cry.
"Sweet, take courage. I do not know why, but I have a curious faith thatoverrides my fears, that something will intervene. Elk Horn has dealttreacherously, after the fashion of his tribe. Oh, my darling! I knowyou will see Uncle Gaspard again, so dry your tears."
"I am so tired of the journeying and those fierce men. Do you rememberthe old Chief Neepawa and the women of the village? They seemed likeours at home."
"Ah, I wish we were there!"
The supper came in, and, in spite of their fears, they were hungry. Thewind rose and the air was delightfully cool. Wawataysee spread the bedand the child was soon peacefully asleep. The tent pole was a tree thathad been trimmed for that purpose, and the young girl leaned against it,watching the flicker of the fire without and the pine torches that hadbeen lighted. Courageous as she had appeared, every pulse shrank andthrobbed. But there was death. She would be no man's slave. Only Reneemust not be left behind. She knew of poisonous plants for which therewas no remedy. Oh, would she have the courage to take another's life?
She dozed at length, even in her uncomfortable position. Then somethingroused her, a rending crash and a glare that seemed to be the world onfire. She sprang up, and the next crash she knew was the storm that hadbroken over them with the wildest fury. Were there cries of beast andmen mingled with it? The deluge seemed to sweep the ground, the treeswrithed and groaned and crashed in the fury of the gale. In theintervals she could hear voices without. Presently the flashes ofbewildering light ceased, though the mutterings of thunder could stillbe heard, and the trees were wind-swept by the fierceness of the mightypower. One and another came down, but her tent stood the storm and wassheltered by an angle of three trees.
The gray light of morning began to dawn sullenly. She watched the faintstreaks stealing through the loopholes. Renee still slept. She went tothe flap of the wigwam and raised it. The rain was pouring in torrents.There at her feet lay a body, the leggings and deer-skin breechesploughed by a curious zigzag streak, scorched and torn, and the blanketshrivelled to fragments. Some figures were moving about like wraiths inthe dusky light. It was a weird picture. She was not at all afraid. Shewas used to forest storms.
One of the figures came nearer. "Ma'm'selle!" it said in a whisper.
The familiar word was the sweetest music. She stretched out her hand.
"I never saw anything so terrible. And you--lived? Others have gone.Three are dead. One is drowned, and Black Feather--" Valbonais's voicetrembled.
"Well!" with a long breath. Did she hope for his death?
"He ordered the men to look after the boats. They had been drawn up, butthe ground was sloping, the rain a torrent, the blackness somethingfearful save when the blinding blaze of light came. He was thereordering, cursing, threatening. Then a tree crashed down and pinned himto the earth. He is badly hurt about the legs, but has voice enough leftin him for four."
Wawataysee shuddered.
"Ma'm'selle!" in a breathless manner.
"Yes?" with eager inquiry.
"I am going to escape. There never can be a more favorable moment."
"Oh! oh! oh!" she cried in a piercing tone.
"I shall find my way to St. Louis. Ma'm'selle, if you and the childdared and would trust me. For if I have heard aright, you are to betaken to some chief up in the straits. And if you shrank from going----"
"I shall never reach there alive. I know a swift, unfailing poison--" Andher words came out sharply.
He gave her a half-horrified, half-entreating look.
"It will be a hard journey. But if we should start now there is not muchchance of our being overtaken. Everything is in such confusion, and itmay be weeks before Black Feather is able to move about. We would followthe river as well as we could, keeping out of sight if the other boatscome up, as they are likely to do. For the rest we must trust to thegood God. I shall take a gun. I have dreamed this over many times. Andif you will go----"
"You mean to start now--in the storm?"
"It will clear up presently, by noon. Meanwhile, I could plan all thearrangements. Just now you are not a close prisoner. There is no tellingwhat may happen to-morrow."
"That is true." Wawataysee studied the eager young face. The eyes had anhonest, pleading look. "I will trust you," she said. "Tell me what to dowhen you are ready."
The party were too terror-stricken to think much of their captives.There were the three dead men lying out in the rain. They brought BlackFeather up to the miserable wigwam and bound up his bruised limbs,finding that one leg only was broken. Black Feather had tabooed thecompany of women on these journeys, and had a half-breed that he hadtrained for a cook. Just now an old Indian nurse would have been veryserviceable. Once he roused himself from his pain and suffering, cursingwith true Indian passion.
"Look if the girl and the child are safe," he commanded in threateningtones.
They had fared very well in the storm. Both they and the shelter hadtaken no harm.
Valbonais had gathered a sack of provisions and taken it down below thecamp some distance, leaving it there with the gun. He had been veryhelpful all the morning, and his brief absence had not been noted.
At noon the rain ceased, though it was nearly an hour before the suncame out. Dinner was eaten, the boats were dragged up so as to be withinsight, and two or three of the Indians were kept busy about theirmaster. Two of the prisoners had been killed and one Indian. BlackFeather ordered them buried.
Valbonais came to the door of the tent.
"Give me one of the blankets," he said, "and send the child out to theback of the tent when you can do so unperceived. Then wrap yourself inthe other and steal away. We will take the other side of the strip ofwoods. It is not wide."
Renee ran out presently and seized his hand.
"Oh, are we going back to St. Louis?" she asked in a whisper, while hereyes were alight with joy.
"I hope so, little one. Come this way. Now you will not be afraid tostay here. Do not utter a cry or sound. Wrap the blanket about you--so."
Then Valbonais waited and waited. He made one journey to Renee tocomfort her. Then he saw Wawataysee struggling through an aperture shehad made in the tent, and ran to her assistance.
"There were so many of them about," she said breathlessly. "I pinned thetent flap down with a stout stick, so they may think I am asleep. Oh,let us hurry. I am so afraid," and she trembled in her excitement,though she ran lightly along.
When they reached Renee he picked up the sack of food and slung it overhis shoulder, took the gun and one blanket, while Wawataysee wrapped theother about herself, the gray making her more indistinct. Renee, wildwith joy, danced and skipped, and could not repress soft gurgles oflaughter as she kept on ahead of them.
Valbonais found Wawataysee fleet of foot and graceful as a forest nymph.The blanket did not seem to impede her skimming motion. The sense ofdanger and the thought of freedom inspired her, and hope swelled anew inher breast. Surely the good God would have Francois in His keeping andlet them meet again.
A Little Girl in Old St. Louis Page 9