The Cryptogram: A Story of Northwest Canada

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by William Murray Graydon


  CHAPTER XXI

  THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

  We all turned round and then with one accord sprang to our feet Thehorror of what we saw held us spellbound and speechless. We did not feelthe icy air, the swirl of fine snowflakes that came driving into theroom, for in the doorway stood Baptiste, his honest face almostunrecognizable with hot passion, and in each hand he thrust out aghastly, gory, red-dripping thing of hair and flesh. They were humanscalps, and we knew at once from whose heads they had been torn.

  "_Nom de Dieu!_" cried the priest. "The poor wretches!"

  "Yes, Valle and Maignon!" Baptiste said thickly, grinding his teeth."They did not get far, sir, Heaven rest their souls! But a moment agothe red devils flung these bloody trophies over the stockade--none cantell how they crept so near! It is a warning, messieurs, that we are allto be served the same way."

  "My poor voyageurs!" groaned Christopher Burley. "That they should cometo such an end! Oh, this barbarous country!"

  He suddenly turned sick and faint, and dropping into a chair, he satthere trembling, his face buried in his hands. Father Cleary wascrossing himself and muttering piously.

  "A thing like this," cried Captain Rudstone, "is enough to turn a maninto a fiend. By Heaven! Hawke, if you say the word, I'll lead a partyout against the savages!"

  But the factor did not seem to hear him. He was leaning heavily on achair, his face the hue of ashes. "My fault--my fault!" he saidhoarsely. "I sent the poor fellows to their death. But God knows Ibelieved they would get through safely!"

  "We all believed that," broke in Andrew Menzies.

  "Compose yourself, sir! No blame can possibly attach to you."

  Meanwhile Baptiste had been standing in the same attitude. I sharplybade him close the door, and he did so. Then he stepped forward, tossedthe reeking scalps on the table, and with a shaking hand helped himself,unbidden, to a stiff glass of rum.

  "You need not have brought those hideous things here," said I.

  "I did not come for that alone, Monsieur Carew," he replied. "I was sentwith a message. The Indians intend shortly to attack. It will be well toprepare."

  "We are all ready," exclaimed Griffith Hawke, roused from his dejectionby this intelligence. "But what do you mean, my man? Why do the sentrieslook for an attack?"

  "Sir, the Indians have been making strange signals," Baptiste answered,"and they were seen from the loopholes and the tower creeping along theedge of the timber in force."

  "The warning is timely," said Captain Rudstone. "If the savages areprowling about it means mischief, otherwise they would be rigging up acamp against this bitter weather. And no doubt they reckon the stormwill be to their advantage, since the driving snow thickens the air."

  The rest of us were of the same mind, and to a man we thirsted for achance to avenge the foul murder of the two voyageurs. We eagerly donnedour fur coats and caps, and began to examine our weapons.

  "Mr. Menzies, will you speak to the women before you go," said thefactor. "Tell them not to be alarmed if they hear firing--that there isno danger."

  "And perhaps they will take consolation from your company, FatherCleary," he added, when Menzies had left the room.

  The priest was wrapping himself in furs, and before replying he took hismusket from a rack over the fireplace.

  "If the women folk need me, I will not refuse," he said quietly. "I am aman of peace first, but I can fight when occasion requires, and mychoice lies that way now, Mr. Hawke."

  "Then come with us, by all means," assented the factor.

  "Nor shall I be left behind," cried Christopher Burley, showing a spiritthat I did not think was in him. "I can handle a gun, sir."

  He did not wait for permission, but borrowed a spare coat that hung onthe wall and helped himself to a serviceable musket and a supply ofpowder and ball.

  "Denzil, you had better go ahead and turn the men out," said the factor."We will follow shortly."

  I was eager to do this, and, accompanied by Baptiste, I hurried from thehouse. I thought with uneasiness, as I plodded across the inclosure,that I had seen few worse storms. The snow was falling line and thick,and a stinging, shrieking wind was already heaping it in drifts.

  "The redskins will give us trouble, sir," Baptiste said ominously.

  "No doubt," I assented sharply; "but we could beat off double theirnumbers. Don't go and croak among the men, Baptiste."

  The quarters were quite deserted, tidings of the expected attack havingemptied them, and I found all the inmates of the fort--save those onduty--assembled near the northeast tower. These included the few Indianemployees, who were to be fully trusted. I made a quick round of theloopholes, and learned that all was now quiet, and that no signals ormovement had been observed for several minutes. When I returned GriffithHawke and his little party had arrived, and I communicated the state ofaffairs to them.

  "It is the calm before the storm," remarked Captain Rudstone. "I'llwager anything you like the savages are going to rush us."

  We waited five minutes, standing about in scattered group, and listeningfor some warning from the watch tower. It was the eve of the factor'swedding--a fact that I recalled with bitter irony as I noted him postedalertly in the pelting snow, musket in hand, expecting shortly to beplunged in the thick of a bloody fray. Far across in the distance agleam of light twinkled in the window of Flora's room. What were herthoughts?

  A hand tapped me on the shoulder; I turned and saw Christopher Burley.

  "It is worse than a London fog, this cold," he said, with chatteringteeth. "I seem to feel it in my bones. How long will we wait, Mr.Carew?"

  "That is hard to tell," I replied. "If you are freezing, go indoors."

  I think he would have taken me at my word, but I had hardly spoken whenthe brooding silence was shattered by a cry from the watch-tower:

  "Look sharp! They are coming on two sides! To the loopholes!"

  Here and there a shout was heard, but for the most part the warning wasreceived with a grim calmness that spoke well for the fighting temper ofour men. The next instant the air was full of Indian war-whoops--and amore blood-curdling and fearful sound I have yet to hear. Then thesavages fired a continuous volley, and the bullets came rattling likesleet against the stockade; some entered at the loopholes, and a cryarose that a half-breed was down.

  At the first--such trivial things will a man do at critical times--myattention was taken by Christopher Burley. Elevating his musket in air,he pulled the trigger, and was flat on his back before you could counttwo. I helped him to rise, and he began to rub his shoulder ruefully.

  "It was too heavy a charge," he said. "Did I kill any one?"

  "It's a mercy you didn't," I replied.

  I gave him a word or two of instruction, but did not wait to see how farhis pluck would carry him. I left him in the act of reloading, and spedto a loophole near the gates, which faced eastward.

  The east and north sides were the ones chosen for the assault, and herea good third of our men had already posted themselves. They, and themarksmen in the corner tower were firing steadily. The fusillade,blending with Indian yells and volleys, made an indescribable din. Itook a hasty glance without. Through the driving snow, I saw a horde ofwarriors dashing swiftly forward. There must have been a hundred insight on that one side, and I knew that we were in for hot work if asmany were attacking from the north.

  On they rushed, and now some dropped craftily behind lopped-off trunksof trees which were sprinkled plentifully about the clearing. Otherssought shelter from the wind-blown heaps of snow, but the greater partmade for the stockade. The powder smoke would hide them for an instant,and then I would see them a dozen feet nearer.

  The patter of bullets close to my head warned me of the danger I was in,and stirred me to action. I thrust out my musket and fired. I looked intime to see an Indian fling up his arms and fall; right and left of himdark blotches stained the snow. I reloaded, and fired again, shoutingwith ex
citement.

  To the north and east, and where the tower rose between, was one blazeand crackle of muskets. Smoke hid the snow and savage yells drowned theshrieking of the wind. In spite of the terrific fire, the redskinspoured on. A ball sang by my ear, and another sent a shower ofsplintered wood into my very face. Close on my right a man was shotthrough the chest; farther to the left I saw a half-breed stagger andfall.

  "Steady, men!" rang out the factor's voice. "Stand firm and make everyshot tell!"

  I poked my musket through the loophole and pulled trigger. It was nextto impossible to miss, so near was the foremost line of savages. I wasreloading in frantic haste, when the stockade in front of me creaked andrattled. Above the top rose the heads and shoulders of three paintedwarriors, and the next instant, with shrill cries, they had leaped intothe inclosure.

 

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