CHAPTER VII
THE LONE VOYAGER
Henry Ware awoke, rubbed his eyes, and looked through the tree trunks atthe Mississippi, now wider than ever.
"What do you see, Tom?" he asked of Tom Ross, who had kept the watch.
"Nothin' but a black speck fur across thar. It come into sight only aminute ago. Fust I thought it wuz a shadder, then I thought it wuz afloatin' log, an' now I do believe it's a canoe. What do you make uv it,Henry?"
Henry looked long.
"It is a canoe," said he at last, "and there's a man in it. They'refloating with the stream down our way."
"You're right," said Tom Ross, "an' ef I ain't mistook that man an' thatcanoe are in trouble. Half the time he's paddlin', half the time he'sbailin' her out, an' all the time he's making a desperate effort to git toland."
The others were now up and awake, and they gazed with intense interest.
"It's a white man in the canoe ez shore ez I'm a livin' sinner!" exclaimedShif'less Sol.
"And it's a question," added Henry, "whether his canoe gets to the bank orthe bottom of the river first."
"It's a white man and we must save him!" cried Paul, his generous boy'sheart stirred to the utmost.
They quickly untied their boat and pulled with great strokes toward thesinking canoe and its lone occupant. They were alongside in a few minutesand Henry threw a rope to the man, who caught it with a skillful hand, andtied his frail craft stoutly to the side of the strong "Galleon." Then, asPaul reached a friendly hand down to him he sprang on board, exclaiming atthe same time in a deep voice: "May the blessing of Heaven rest upon you,my children."
The five were startled at the face and appearance of the man who came upontheir boat. They had never thought of encountering such a figure in thewilderness. He was of middle age, tall, well-built, and remarkablystraight, but his shaven face was thin and ascetic, and the look in hiseyes was one of extraordinary benevolence. Moreover, it had the peculiarquality of seeming to gaze far into the future, as it were, at somethingglorious and beautiful. His dress was a strange mixture. He wore deerskinleggins and moccasins, but his body was clothed in a long, loose garmentof black cloth and on his head was a square cap of black felt. A smallwhite crucifix suspended by a thin chain from his neck lay upon his breastand gleamed upon the black cloth.
Every one of the five instantly felt veneration and respect for thestranger and Paul murmured, "A priest." The others heard him andunderstood. They were all Protestants, but in the deep wildernessreligious hatred and jealousy had little hold; upon them none at all.
"Bless you, my sons," repeated the man in his deep, benevolent voice, andthen he continued in a lighter tone, speaking almost perfect English, "Ido believe that if you had not appeared when you did I and my canoe shouldhave both gone to the bottom of this very deep river. I am a fair swimmer,but I doubt if I could have gained the land."
"We are glad, father," said Paul respectfully, "that we had the privilegeto be present and help at such a time."
The priest looked at Paul and smiled. He liked his refined and sensitiveface and his correct language and accent.
"I should fancy, my young friend," he said, still smiling, "that the debtof gratitude is wholly mine. I am Pierre Montigny, and, as you perhapssurmise, a Frenchman and priest of the Holy Church, sent to the New Worldto convert and save the heathen. I belong to the mission at New Orleans,but I have been on a trip, to a tribe called the Osage, west of the GreatRiver. Last night my canoe was damaged by the fierce storm and I startedforth rather rashly this morning, not realizing the extent to which thecanoe had suffered. You have seen and taken a part in the rest."
"You were going back to New Orleans alone, and in a little canoe?" saidPaul.
"Oh, yes," replied Father Montigny, as if he were speaking of trifles. "Ialways go alone, and my canoe isn't so very little, as you see. I carry init a change or clothing, provisions, and gifts for the Indians."
"But no arms," said Henry who had been looking into the canoe.
"No arms, of course," replied Father Montigny.
"You are a brave man! About the bravest I ever saw!" burst out Tom Ross,he of few words.
Father Montigny merely smiled again.
"Oh, no," he said, "I have many brethren who do likewise, and there are asmany different kinds of bravery as there are different kinds of life. You,I fancy, are brave, too, though I take it from appearances that yousometimes fight with arms."
"We have to do it, Father Montigny," said Paul in an apologetic tone.
The priest made no further comment and, taking him to the shore, with muchdifficulty they built a fire, at which they prepared him warm food whilehe dried his clothing. They had no hesitation in telling him of theirerrand and of the presence of Alvarez and his force on the river. FatherMontigny sighed.
"It is a matter of great regret," he said, "that Louisiana has passed fromthe hands of my nation into those of Spain. France is now allied with yourcolonies, but Spain holds aloof. She fears you and perhaps with reason.Every country, if its people be healthy and vigorous, must ultimately beowned by those who live upon it."
"Do you know this Alvarez?" asked Henry.
"Yes, a man of imperious and violent temper, one who, with all hiscourage, does not recognize the new forces at work in the world. He thinksthat Spain is still the greatest of nations, and that the outposts of yourrace, who have reached the backwoods, are nothing. It is we who travel inthe great forests who recognize the strength of the plant that is yet soyoung and tender."
The priest sighed again and a shade of emotion passed over his singularlyfine face.
"Alvarez would be glad to commit the Spanish forces in America to thecause of your enemies," he resumed, "and he is bold enough to do anyviolent deed at this distance to achieve that end. In fact, he is alreadyallied with the renegade and the Indians against you and began war when heseized one of you. Perhaps it is just as well that you are going to NewOrleans, since Bernardo Galvez, the Spanish Governor, is a man ofdifferent temper, young, enthusiastic, and ready, I think, to listen toyou."
While the priest was talking by the fireside Shif'less Sol, Long Jim, andTom Ross slipped away. They hauled his canoe out on dry land, and with thetools that they had found on "The Galleon" quickly made it as good asever. They also quietly put some of their own stores in the canoe, andthen returned it to the water.
"O' course, he won't go comf'tably with us in our boat to NewOr-lee-yuns," said Shif'less Sol. "He'll stick to his canoe an' stop topreach to Injuns who mebbe will torture him to death, but he has myrespeck an' ef I kin do anything fur him I want to do it."
"So would I," said Jim Hart heartily. "I'm a pow'ful good cook ez youknow, Sol, bein' ez you've et in your time more'n a hundred thousandpounds uv my victuals, an' I'd like to cook him all the buffaler an' deersteak he could eat between here an' New Or-lee-yuns, no matter how long hewuz on the way."
"An' me," said Tom Ross simply, wishing to add his mite, "I'd like to beon hand when any Injun tried to hurt him. That Injun would think he'd beenstruck by seven different kinds uv lightnin', all at the same time."
The fire was built on a hillock that rose above the flood. It had beenkindled with the greatest difficulty, even by such experienced woodsmen asthe five, but, once well started, it consumed the damp brush andspluttered and blazed merrily. Gradually a great bed of coals formed andthrew out a temperate, grateful heat. All were glad enough, after thestorm and the cold and the wet, to sit around it and to feel the glow upontheir faces. It warmed the blood.
The hill formed an island in the flood and "The Galleon" and the canoewere tied to trees only thirty or forty feet away. Far to the westextended the great sweep of the river and around them the flooded forestwas still dripping with the night's rain.
"I think I'm willin' to rest a while," said Shif'less Sol. "That wuz apow'ful lively time we had last night, but thar wuz enough o' it an' I'dlike to lay by to-day, now that our friend's canoe hez been fixed."
F
ather Montigny glanced up in surprise.
"My canoe repaired!" he said. "I don't understand."
"'Twas only a little job fur fellers like us," said the shiftless one."She's all done, an' your canoe, ez good ez new, is tied up thar alongsideo' our 'Gall-yun.'"
"You are very good to me," said the priest raising his hands slightly inthe manner of benediction, "and I suggest, since we have a comfortableplace here, that we remain on this little island until to-morrow. Do youknow what day it is?"
"No," replied Paul, "to tell you the truth, Father Montigny, we've beenthrough so much and we've had to think so hard of other things that we'velost count of the days. I'd scarcely know how to guess at it."
"It's the Holy Sabbath," said Father Montigny. "You, I have no doubt,belong to a church other than mine, but the wilderness teaches us thatwe're merely traveling by different roads to the same place. We six arealone upon this little spot of ground in a great river flowing through avast desolation. Surely we can be comrades, too, and give thanks togetherfor the mercy that is taking us through such great dangers andhardships."
"We're like Noah and his family after the ark landed," whispered Shif'lessSol to Henry, in a tone that was far from irreverence. But Paul saidaloud:
"I'm sure that we're all in agreement upon that point, Father Montigny. Wedo not have to hasten and we'll remain here on the island in a mannerproper to the day."
Father Montigny glanced at the five in turn and the rare, beautiful smilelighted up his face. He read every thought of theirs in their opencountenances, and he knew that they were in thorough accord with him. ButPaul, as usual, appealed to him most of all--the deeply spiritual qualityin the lad was evident to the priest and reader of men.
Father Montigny took a little leather-bound book from under his black robeand stood up. The others stood up also. Then the priest read a prayer. Itwas in Latin and the five--Paul included--did not understand a word of it,but not a particle of its solemnity and effect was lost on that account.
It was to Paul, in many ways, the most impressive scene in which he hadever taken part, the noble, inspired face of the priest, the solemn words,and no other sound except the peaceful murmur made by the flowing of thegreat river. They seemed as much alone on their little hill as if theystood on a coral island in the south seas.
Nature was in unison with the rite. A brilliant sun came out, the drippingtrees dried fast, and, under the blue sky, the yellow of the river tookon a lighter hue.
After the prayer they resumed their seats by the fire, which they left atintervals only to get something from the boat or to bring the dryest woodthat they could find for the replenishing of the fire. Paul and Shif'lessSol went together on one of the trips for firewood.
"He is shorely a good man," said the shiftless one nodding in thedirection of the priest, "but don't you think, Paul, he's undertook amighty big job, tryin' to convert Injuns?"
"Undoubtedly," replied Paul, "but that is the purpose to which he hasdevoted his life. He does good, but it seems a pity to me too, Sol, thathe goes on such missions. In the end he'll find martyrdom among some crueltribe, and he knows it."
While Father Montigny, like others of his kind, expected martyrdom andwillingly risked it, his spirits were darkened by no shadow now. Not oneof the five was more cheerful than he, and he gave them all the news athis command.
"And I am glad," he continued, "that you are going to New Orleans. You arereally messengers of peace and, unofficial heralds though you are, you maysave more than one nation from great trouble."
The five were deeply gratified by his words. If they had needed anyencouragement in their self-chosen task they would have received it now.
"Since you are returning to New Orleans, Father Montigny," said Paul,"why don't you go with us in our big boat? It is far safer and morecomfortable than a canoe."
Father Montigny shook his head.
"It is a kind offer," he replied, "but I cannot accept it. I leave youto-morrow at the mouth of a river on our right as we descend. There is asmall village of peaceful Indians several miles up that stream and I wishto stay with them a day or two. I and my canoe have traveled manythousands of miles together and we will continue."
They would have repeated the offer, but they saw that he was not to bemoved and they talked of other things. The rest was, in truth, welcome toall, as the labors and dangers of the night had been a severe strain upontheir nerves and strength, and they luxuriated before the fire while thepeaceful day passed. Henry noticed that the water was still rising, andthat the mass of floating debris was also increasing.
"It's been a tremendous rain," he said, "and it's extended far up. It musthave been raining on all the great rivers that run into the Mississippi oneither side, away off there in the north. It's going to be a mighty bigflood, and this hill itself will go under."
"You're right," said Shif'less Sol. "It's a mighty big river any time butis shorely gittin' to be like a sea now."
They walked back to the little party by the fire. The day had considerablecoolness in it after the rain, and the warmth was still welcome. Littlewas left for them to do and they still luxuriated in rest. Like allwoodsmen in those times who were compelled to endure long and moststrenuous periods of toil and danger, they knew how to do nothing when thetime came, and let Nature recuperate the tired faculties.
The brilliant sun shone on the river, the muddy waters were gilded withgold. The east turned to rose, then to red, and after that came theshadows. The mellow voice of the priest was lifted in a solemn Latin hymn.His song carried far over the darkening waters, and Paul, under itsinfluence, felt more deeply than ever the immense majesty of the scene.Red light from the sunken sun still lingered over the longest of rivers,but the shadows now covered all the eastern shore. Through the increasingnight the firelight on the little island twinkled like a beacon, but forthe time being, they were careless who saw it.
The hymn died away in a last long echo, the red light was wholly gone,darkness was over everything, and they prepared for a long night of sleep.The next morning they started together, the big boat and the little canoe.Every one of the five offered to paddle the canoe for Father Montigny asfar as they were going together, but he smilingly declined.
"No," he said, "my good canoe and I have been closely associated too longto be separated now, nor must I be spoiled. I see that you have put freshstores in the canoe, and I accept them. You have good hearts, as I knewwhen I first saw you."
The five would not put up their sail while they were in company, and "TheGalleon" and the canoe drifted together until they reached the mouth ofthe river up which the peaceful Indian village lay. There Father Montignygave them his blessing and bade them farewell. They held their own boat inthe current while they watched him paddle with strong arms up thetributary stream. He stopped at the first curve, lifted his paddle in alast salute, which they returned with their own lifted oars, and then hepassed out of sight.
"We may never see him again," said Paul--but Paul could not read thefuture.
Then they set their sail, swung into the middle of the stream and sweptforward on their great journey. But the meeting with the priest had astrong influence upon every one of them.
"He is sure to suffer a violent death some time or other," said Paul, "andhe knows it, but it never mikes him gloomy. There are other French priestslike him, too, boys, going thousands of miles, alone and unarmed, overthis vast continent."
"'Pears to me that we are wrong when we talk about the French bein'dancin' masters an' sech like," said Shif'less Sol. "My father fit in thegreat French war up thar along the Canady line an' in Canady, an' he saysthe French wuz ez good fighters ez anybody. Besides, they took naterallyto the woods, makin' fust rate scouts an' hunters, an' ef that ain't proofo' the stuff that's in people, nothin' is."
This day upon the waters was one of unbroken peace. The flood, as Henryhad predicted, continued to rise, spreading far into the woods and out ofsight. Now and then some portion of the shore, eaten into cont
inually bythe powerful stream, would give way and fall with a sticky sigh into theriver. Uprooted trees floated in the current or became wedged in theforest. But the sunlight remained undimmed and they began to grow familiarwith the river. It was a friend now, bearing them whither they would go.
About noon they saw two deer marooned on an island made by the flood, andthey shot one of them for the sake of the fresh meat.
Now ensued a long journey, unbroken by danger, but full of interest. Theycame near enough once or twice to ascertain that the Spanish force wasjust ahead of them, but they saw no chance to secure the precious maps andplans or interfere in any other way with the dangerous project of Alvarez,and they waited patiently.
The flood began to subside, but it was a mighty river yet, and would stillbe so when all the flood was gone. They passed the mouths of great riversto right and to left, but they did not know their names, nor whence theycame. The air grew much warmer and they were very glad indeed now thatthey had the sail, which, allied with the current, carried them on as fastas they wished.
Shif'less Sol lay lazily under the sail, his limbs relaxed, and his face apicture of content.
"I could float on an' on forever," he said sleepily, "an' I don't care howlong it takes to git to New Or-lee-yuns. I think I'm goin' to like thatplace. I saw a trapper once who had been thar, an' he said you could bejest ez lazy an' sleepy ez you wished an' nobody would blame you--theykinder look upon it ez the right thing, an' that suits me. He said themSpaniards an' French had orange trees about. You could lay in your bed,reach a han' out o' the window, pull an orange off the tree, suck it, an'then go back to sleep without ever havin' disturbed the cover. I neverseed an orange, but I know it's nice."
The same day they rowed the boat a few miles up a small but deep and veryclear river that emptied into the Mississippi from the east. Their objectwas to fish, the greater river itself being too muddy for the succulentkind that they wished. The incomparable "Galleon" had also been suppliedwith fishing tackle, and in a short time they caught a splendid supply ofblack bass and perch, which proved to be very fine and toothsome. As theirboat floated back from the smaller stream into the Mississippi, Shif'lessSol heaved a deep sigh.
"What's the matter, Sol?" asked Paul.
"I wuz thinkin' o' Christopher Columbus," replied Shif'less Sol. "Ef itwuzn't that I'd be dead now, I wish I'd been with him. I do enjoy sailin'on an' discoverin' lands an' waters that ain't yet got no name to 'em. Itlooks funny to me that we wuzn't discovered sooner, when we've always beenhere, but Columbus has all my respeck an' admiration 'cause he done itwhen the others didn't."
"That shorely wuz a man," said Tom Ross, his eyes lighting up. "I've heardthe tale how he kep' tryin' an' tryin' to git a ship, an' couldn't, an'at last the Spanish lady pulled off her earrings an' finger rings an'bracelets an' said: 'Here, Chris, these, these are my jewels, take 'em,trade 'em fur the best ship thar is in the market, an' discover Ameriky.'An' then he got his ship, an' kep' sailin' on an' on, an' the sailors theybegan to git skeered an' then more skeered. They're afraid they're goin'to drop off on the other side uv the world an' they go to Chris an' say:'Thar ain't no sech continent ez Ameriky an' we ain't goin' to discoverit. We're goin' to turn right 'round an' go straight back to Spain.'
"Chris says in the knowin'est manner like a father talkin' to his child.'Thar is sech a continent ez Ameriky, an' it's a big one, too. It's layin'over thar straight to the west, an' it's full uv big lakes an' big riversan' big mountains an' red Injuns that fight with bows an' arrers, andb'ars an' buffalers an' deer an' panthers an' all things fine, jestwaitin' fur us. Thar's whar we're goin'.' And the sailors say more uppishthan ever: No, we ain't, we ain't goin' to discover Ameriky, thar ain't nosech place, we're goin' right back to Spain.' Then a kinder funny lookcomes into Chris's eye. He reaches fur his long rifle, an' he draws a beadon the foremost uv them sailors, the feller that speaks fur 'em all, an'he says, droppin' that fatherly manner an' speakin' up sharp an' snappy:'I reckin we're either goin' to discover Ameriky, or go right back toSpain, which is it?'
"An' that foremost sailor, the one that speaks fur 'em all, sees the funnylook in Chris's eye, an' he thinks, too, he kin see clean down the barreluv that long rifle to whar the bullet is layin', an' he answers right off:'We're goin' to discover Ameriky'; an' shore enough they did, this fine,big continent, full uv big lakes an' big rivers an' big mountains an' redInjuns that fight with bows an' arrers an' b'ars and buffalers an' deeran' panthers an' all things fine."
"I didn't know Tom Ross had sech a gift o' gab," said Shif'less Sol. "Hestirs me all up, he makes me want to hev some lady buy a ship fur me an'start me out to discoverin' continents. Do you think, Paul, thar's anylady who would sell her earrings an' finger rings fur me ez that Spanishone did fur Columbus?"
"But think, Sol, what a chance you've got whether there is or not," saidHenry Ware. "America is discovered but not much of it is explored. There'senough here to keep you roaming about for the next fifty or sixty years."
"That's so," said the shiftless one brightening up. "What am I growlin'about, when here's a river, mebbe ten thousand miles long that we knownext to nothin' 'bout, an' buffalers an' b'ars an' panthers an' deer toshoot, an' red Injuns to fight ez long ez I live. After all, we're shorelymighty lucky to live at the time we do, ez I've said before. Do you thinkthar'll ever be any times hereafter as interestin' ez ourn, Paul?"
"I can't say," replied Paul with a smile, "but they're not likely to be asinteresting to us."
They went on their way, and the air became still warmer. Moreover, itgrew heavy and oppressive, and the spring rains were resumed with greatviolence. They had worked meanwhile on their tarpaulin, enlarging andstrengthening it with skins which they had allowed to dry on the boat, andthey rested, sheltered and secure, as they floated along.
Although Frenchmen had gone up and down the river long before, they feltlike genuine explorers. So little was known of the mighty stream that theyregarded every stretch and turn with keen interest. It was not beautifulnow, a vast, brown flood flowing between low and changing shores, but inits size and loneliness it had a majesty peculiarly its own.
Wild geese and wild ducks flew over the river in abundance, and they wereso little used to man that often they passed near "The Galleon." Thefowling pieces proved useful again, as the five were able to sit incomfort on their boat and shoot geese and ducks for their needs. Some wereof kinds that they had never seen before, but all proved to be goodeating, and they were welcome.
Jim Hart also exercised his ingenuity in a very useful manner. In the prowof the boat, but under the tarpaulin, he spread a layer of mud about twoinches thick. Protected from the rain, it soon dried, forming a hard,impervious, brick-like covering for the bottom of the boat, and upon thishe built a small smothered fire of dry sticks, a supply of which they keptin the boat. Here Jim, with all the skill and delicacy of a gastronomicartist, would cook their wild ducks and wild geese, and, considering thelimited area and resources for the exercise of his favorite occupation,he did extremely well. Nor was it any longer necessary for them to run into the shore and worry in the dripping forest with wet wood.
"It ain't like that stove we built the time we wuz on the ha'nted islan',"Long Jim would say, "but it's a heap sight better than nothin."
"It shorely is," said Shif'less Sol. "You ain't much account for anything,Jim, but you kin cook a leetle bit."
Long Jim smiled contentedly.
The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippi Page 7