CHAPTER III
THE SIGNAL
The day advanced, brilliant with sunshine, and the forces of St. Lucwere quiet. For a long time, not a shot was fired, and it seemed tothe besieged that the forest was empty of human beings save themselves.Robert did not believe the French leader would attempt a long siege,since an engagement could not be conducted in that manner in theforest, where a result of some kind must be reached soon. Yet it wasimpossible to tell what plan St. Luc had in mind, and they must waituntil Tayoga came.
Young Captain Colden was in good spirits. It was his first taste ofwilderness warfare, and he knew that he had done well. The dead werelaid decently among the bushes to receive Christian burial later, ifthe chance came, and the wounded, their hurts bound up, prepared totake what part they could in a new battle. Robert crept to the edgeof the cliff, and looked toward the west, whence Tayoga had gone. Hesaw only a dazzling blue sky, unflecked by anything save little whiteclouds, and there was nothing to indicate whether the mission of hisyoung Onondaga comrade would have any success. He crept back to theside of Willet.
"Have you any opinion, Dave, about the smoke that Tayoga saw," heasked.
"None, Robert, just a hope. It might have been made by another Frenchand Indian band, most probably it was, but there is a chance, too,that friends built the fire."
"If it's a force of any size it could hardly be English. I don'tthink any troop of ours except Captain Colden's is in this region."
"We can't look for help from our own race."
Robert was silent, gazing intently into the west, whence Tayoga hadgone. He recognized the immense difficulties of their position.Indians, if an attack or two of theirs failed, would be likely to goaway, but the French, and especially St. Luc, would increase theirpersistence and hold them to the task. He returned to the forest, andhis attention was drawn once more by Black Rifle. The man was lyingalmost flat in the thicket, and evidently he had caught a glimpse of afoe, as he was writhing slowly forward like a great beast of prey, andhis eyes once more had the expectant look of one who is going tostrike. Robert considered him. He knew that the man's whole naturehad been poisoned by the great tragedy in his life, and that it gavehim a sinister pleasure to inflict blows upon those who had inflictedthe great blow upon him. Yet he would be useful in the fierce war thatwas upon them and he was useful now.
Black Rifle crept forward two or three yards more, and, after he hadlain quite still for a few moments, he suddenly thrust out his rifleand fired. A cry came from the opposing thicket and Robert heard thesharpshooter utter a deep sigh of satisfaction. He knew that St. Lucwas one warrior less, which was good for the defense, but he shuddereda little. He could never bring himself to steal through the bushes andshoot an unseeing enemy. Still Black Rifle was Black Rifle, and beingwhat he was he was not to be judged as other men were.
After a half hour's silence, the besiegers suddenly opened fire fromfive or six points, sending perhaps two score bullets into the wood,clipping off many twigs and leaves which fell upon the heads of thedefenders. Captain Colden did not forget to be grateful to Willet forhis insistence that the soldiers should always lie low, as the hostilelead, instead of striking, now merely sent a harmless shower uponthem. But the fusillade was brief, Robert, in truth, judging that ithad been against the commands of St. Luc, who was too wise a leader towish ammunition to be wasted in random firing. At the advice ofWillet, Captain Colden would not let his men reply, restraining theireagerness, and silence soon returned.
It was nearly noon now and a huge golden sun shone over the vastwilderness in which two little bands of men fought, mere motes in thelimitless sea of green. Robert ate some venison, and drank a littlewater from the canteen of a friendly soldier. Then his thoughts turnedagain to Tayoga. The Onondaga was a peerless runner, he had been gonelong now, and what would he find at the base of the smoke? If it hadbeen the fire of an enemy then he would be back in the middle of theafternoon, and they would be in no worse case than before. They mighttry to escape in the night down the cliff, but it was not likely thatvigilant foes would permit men, clumsy in the woods like the soldiers,to steal away in such a manner.
The earlier hours of the afternoon were passed by the sharpshooters oneither side trying to stalk one another. Although Robert had no partin it, it was a savage play that alternately fascinated and repelledhim. He had no way to tell exactly, but he believed that two more ofthe Indians had fallen, while a soldier received a wound. A bulletgrazed Black Rifle's head, but instead of daunting him it seemed togive him a kind of fierce joy, and to inspire in him a greater desireto slay.
These efforts, since they achieved no positive results, soon dieddown, and both sides lay silent in their coverts. Robert made himselfas comfortable as he could behind a log, although he longed to standupright, and walk about once more like a human being. It was nowmid-afternoon and if the smoke had meant nothing good for them it wastime for Tayoga to be back. It was not conceivable that such amarvelous forester and matchless runner could have been taken, and,since he had not come, Robert's heart again beat to the tune of hope.
Willet with whom he talked a little, was of like opinion. He looked toTayoga to bring them help, and, if he failed their case, already hard,would become harder. The hunter did not conceal from himself theprowess and skill of St. Luc and he knew too, that the savagepersistency of Tandakora was not to be held lightly. Like Robert hegazed long into the blue west, which was flecked only by little cloudsof white.
"A sign! A sign!" he said. "If we could only behold a sign!"
But the heavens said nothing. The sun, a huge ball of glowing copper,was already far down the Western curve, and the hunter's heart beathard with anxiety. He felt that if help came it should come soon. Butlittle water was left to the soldiers, although their food might lastanother day, and the night itself, now not far away, would bring thedanger of a new attack by a creeping foe, greatly superior innumbers. He turned away from the cliff, but Robert remained, andpresently the youth called in a sharp thrilling whisper:
"Dave! Dave! Come back!"
Robert had continued to watch the sky and he thought he saw a faintdark line against the sea of blue. He rubbed his eyes, fearing it wasa fault of vision, but the trace was still there, and he believed itto be smoke.
"Dave! Dave! The signal! Look! Look!" he cried.
The hunter came to the edge of the cliff and stared into the west. Athread of black lay across the blue, and his heart leaped.
"Do you believe that Tayoga has anything to do with it?" asked Robert.
"I do. If it were our foes out there he'd have been back long since."
"And since it may be friends they've sent up this smoke, hoping we'lldivine what they mean."
"It looks like it. Tayoga is a sharp lad, and he'll want to put heartin the soldiers. It must be the Onondaga, and I wish I knew what hissmoke was saying."
Captain Colden joined them, and they pointed out to him the traceacross the sky which was now broadening, explaining at the same timethat it was probably a signal sent up by Tayoga, and that he might beleading a force to their aid.
"What help could he bring?" asked the captain.
Willet shook his head.
"I can't answer you there," he replied; "but the smoke hassignificance for us. Of that I feel sure. By sundown we'll know whatit means."
"And that's only about two hours away," said Captain Colden. "Whateverhappens we'll hold out to the last. I suppose, though, that St. Luc'sforce also will see the smoke."
"Quite likely," replied Willet, "and the Frenchman may send a runner,too, to see what it means, but however good a runner he may be he'llbe no match for Tayoga."
"That's sure," said Robert.
So great was his confidence in the Onondaga that it never occurred tohim that he might be killed or taken, and he awaited his certainreturn, either with or without a helping force. He lay now near theedge of the cliff, whence he could look toward the west, the point ofhope, whenever he wished, ate another strip o
f venison, and tookanother drink of water out of a friendly canteen.
The west was now blazing with terraces of red and yellow, rising aboveone another, and the east was misty, gray and dim. Twilight was notfar away. The thread of smoke that had lain against the sky above theforest was gone, the glittering bar of red and gold being absolutelyfree from any trace. St. Luc's force opened fire again, bulletsclipping twigs and leaves, but the defense lay quiet, except BlackRifle, who crept back and forth, continually seeking a target, andpulling the trigger whenever he found it.
The misty gray in the east turned to darkness, in the west the sunwent down the slope of the world, and the brilliant terraces of colorbegan to fade. The firing ceased and another tense period of quiet,hard, to endure, came. At the suggestion of the hunter Colden drew inhis whole troop near the cliff and waited, all, despite theirweariness and strain, keeping the keenest watch they could.
But Robert, instead of looking toward the east, where St. Luc's forcewas, invariably looked into the sunset, because it was there thatTayoga had gone, and it was there that they had seen the smoke, ofwhich they expected so much. The terraces of color, already grown dim,were now fading fast. At the top they were gone altogether, and theyonly lingered low down. But on the forest the red light yet blazed.Every twig and leaf seemed to stand individual and distinct, blackagainst a scarlet shield. But it was for merely a few minutes. Thenall the red glow disappeared, like a great light going out suddenly,and the western forest as well as the eastern, lay in a gray gloom.
It always seemed to Robert that the last going of the sunset that daywas like a signal, because, when the night swept down, black andcomplete everywhere, there was a burst of heavy firing from the southand a long exultant yell. No bullet sped through the thickets, wherethe defenders lay, and Willet cried:
"Tayoga! Tayoga and help! Ah, here they come! The Mohawks!"
Tayoga, panting from exertion, sprang into the bushes among them, andhe was followed by a tall figure in war paint, lofty plumes wavingfrom his war bonnet. Behind him came many warriors, and others werealready on the flanks, spreading out like a fan, filing rapidly andshouting the war whoop. Robert recognized at once the great figurethat stood before them. It was Daganoweda, the young Mohawk chief ofhis earlier acquaintance, whom he had met both on the war path and atthe great council of the fifty sachems in the vale of Onondaga. Hadhis been the right to choose the man who was to come to their aid, theMohawk would have been his first choice. Robert knew his intensehatred of the French and their red allies, and he also knew his fiercecourage and great ability in battle.
The soldiers looked in some alarm at the painted host that had sprungamong them, but Willet and Robert assured them insistently that thesewere friends, and the sound of the battle they were already waging onthe flank with St. Luc's force, was proof enough.
"Captain Colden," said Robert, not forgetful that an Indian likes thecourtesies of life, and can take his compliments thick, "this is thegreat young Mohawk Chief, Daganoweda, which in our language means 'TheInexhaustible' and such he is, inexhaustible in resource and couragein battle, and in loyalty to his friends."
Daganoweda smiled and extended his hand in the white man's fashion.Young Colden had the tact to shake it heartily at once and to say inEnglish, which the young Mohawk chief understood perfectly:
"Daganoweda, whatever praise of you Mr. Lennox has given it's not halfenough. I confess now although I would not have admitted it before,that if you had not come we should probably have been lost."
He had made a friend for life, and then, without further words the twoturned to the battle. But Robert remained for a minute beside Tayoga,whose chest was still heaving with his great exertions.
"Where did you find them?" he asked.
"Many miles to the west, Lennox. After I descended the cliff I waspursued by Huron skirmishers, and I had to shake them off. Then I ranat full speed toward the point where the smoke had risen, knowing thatthe need was great, and I overtook Daganoweda and the Mohawks. Theirfirst smoke was but that from a camp-fire, as being in strong forcethey did not care who saw them, but the last, just before the sunset,was sent up as a signal by two warriors whom we left behind for thepurpose. We thought you might take it to mean that help was coming."
"And so we did. How many warriors has Daganoweda?"
"Fifty, and that is enough. Already they push the Frenchman and hisforce before them. Come, we must join them, Dagaeoga. The breath hascome back into my body and I am a strong man again!"
The two now quickly took their places in the battle in the night andthe forest, the position of the two forces being reversed. Thesoldiers and the Mohawks were pushing the combat at every point, andthe agile warriors extending themselves on the flanks had alreadydriven in St. Luc's skirmishers. Black Rifle, uttering fierce shouts,was leading a strong attack in the center. The firing was now rapidand much heavier than it had been at any time before. Flashes of flameappeared everywhere in the thicket. Above the crackle of rifles andmuskets swelled the long thrilling war cry of the Mohawks, and back infierce defiance came the yells of the Hurons and Abenakis.
Willet joined Robert and the two, with Tayoga, saw that the soldiersfought well under cover. The young Philadelphians, in the excitementof battle and of a sudden and triumphant reversal of fortune, werelikely to expose themselves rashly, and the advice of the forestveterans was timely. Captain Colden saw that it was taken, althoughtwo more of his men were slain as they advanced and several werewounded. But the issue was no longer doubtful. The weight that theMohawks had suddenly thrown into the battle was too great. The forceof St. Luc was steadily driven northward, and Daganoweda's alertskirmishers on the flanks kept it compressed together.
Robert knew how bitter the defeat would be to St. Luc, but theknowledge did not keep his exultation from mounting to a high pitch.St. Luc might strive with all his might to keep his men in the battle,but the Frenchmen could not be numerous, and it was the custom ofIndians, once a combat seemed lost, to melt away like a mist. Theybelieved thoroughly that it was best to run away and fight anotherday, and there was no disgrace in escaping from a stricken field.
"They run! They run! And the Frenchmen must run with them!" exclaimedBlack Rifle. As he spoke, a bullet grazed his side and struck asoldier behind him, but the force pressed on with the ardor fed byvictory. Willet did not try any longer to restrain them, although heunderstood full well the danger of a battle in the dark. But he knewthat Daganoweda and his Mohawks, experienced in every forest wile,would guard them against surprise, and he deemed it best now that theyshould strike with all their might.
Robert seldom saw any of the warriors before him, and he did not oncecatch a glimpse of a Frenchman. Whenever his rifle was loaded hefired at a flitting form, never knowing whether or not his bulletstruck true, and glad of his ignorance. His sensitive and imaginativemind became greatly excited. The flashes of flame in the thickets weremultiplied a hundred fold, a thousand little pulses beat heavily inhis temples, and the shouts of the savages seemed to fill the forest.But he pressed on, conscious that the enemy was disappearing beforethem.
In his eagerness he passed ahead of Willet and Tayoga and came verynear to St. Luc's retreating line. His foot became entangled intrailing vines and he fell, but he was up in an instant, and he firedat a shadowy figure not more than twenty feet in advance. In his hastehe missed, and the figure, turning, raised a rifle. There was a fairmoonlight and Robert saw the muzzle of the weapon bearing directlyupon him, and he knew too that the rifle was held by firm hands. Hisvivid and sensitive imagination at once leaped into intense life. Hisown weapon was empty and his last moment had come. He saw the strongbrown hands holding the rifle, and then his gaze passed on to the faceof St. Luc. He saw the blue eyes of the Frenchman, as they looked downthe sights, open wide in a kind of horror. Then he abruptly droppedthe muzzle, waved one hand to Robert, and vanished in the thickets andthe darkness.
The battle was over. There were a few dying shots, scattered beads offlame,
an occasional shout of triumph from the Mohawks, a defiant yellor two in reply from the Hurons and the Abenakis, and then the trailof the combat swept out of the sight and hearing of Robert, who stooddazed and yet with a heart full of gratitude. St. Luc had held hislife upon the pressure of a trigger, and the trigger would have beenpulled had he not seen before it was too late who stood before themuzzle of his rifle. The moonlight was enough for Robert to see thatlook of horror in his eyes when he recognized the target. And then theweapon had been turned away and he had gone like a flash! Why? Forwhat reason had St. Luc spared him in the heat and fury of a desperateand losing battle? It must have been a powerful motive for a man tostay his bullet at such a time!
"Wake up, lad! Wake up! The battle has been won!"
Willet's heavy but friendly hand fell upon his shoulder, and Robertcame out of his daze. He decided at once that he would say nothingabout the meeting with St. Luc, and merely remarked in a crypticmanner:
"I was stunned for a moment by a bullet that did not hit me. Yes,we've won, Dave, thanks to the Mohawks."
"Thanks to Daganoweda and his brave Mohawks, and to Tayoga, and to thegallant Captain Colden and his gallant men. All of us together havemade the triumph possible. I understand that the bodies of only twoFrenchmen have been found and that neither was that of St. Luc. Well,I'm glad. That Frenchman will do us great damage in this war, but he'san honorable foe, and a man of heart, and I like him."
A man of heart! Yes, truly! None knew it better than Robert, but againhe kept his own counsel. He too was glad that his had not been one ofthe two French bodies found, but there was still danger from thepursuing Mohawks, who would hang on tenaciously, and he felt a suddenthrill of alarm. But it passed, as he remembered that the chevalierwas a woodsman of experience and surpassing skill.
Tayoga came back to them somewhat blown. He had followed the fleeingFrench and Indian force two or three miles. But there was a limit evento his nerves and sinews of wrought steel. He had already run thirtymiles before joining in the combat, and now it was time to rest.
"Come, Tayoga," said the hunter, "we'll go back to the ground our ladshave defended so well, and eat, drink and sleep. The Mohawks willattend to all the work that's left, which isn't much. We've earned ourrepose."
Captain Colden, slightly wounded in the arm, appeared and Willet gavehim the high compliments that he and his soldiers deserved. He toldhim it was seldom that men unused to the woods bore themselves so wellin an Indian fight, but the young captain modestly disclaimed thechief merit, replying that he and his detachment would surely havebeen lost, had it not been for Willet and his comrades.
Then they went back to the ground near the cliff, where they had madetheir great fight, and Willet although the night was warm, wisely hada large fire built. He knew the psychological and stimulating effectof heat and light upon the lads of the city, who had passed throughsuch a fearful ordeal in the dark and Indian-haunted forest. Heencouraged them to throw on more dead boughs, until the blaze leapedhigher and higher and sparkled and roared, sending up myriads ofjoyous sparks that glowed for their brief lives among the trees andthen died. No fear of St. Luc and the Indians now! That fierce fringeof Mohawks was a barrier that they could never pass, even should theychoose to return, and no such choice could possibly be theirs! Thefire crackled and blazed in increasing volume, and the Philadelphialads, recovering from the collapse that had followed tremendousexertions and excitement, began to appreciate the extent of theirvictory and to talk eagerly with one another.
But the period of full rest had not yet come. Captain Colden made themdig with their bayonets shallow graves for their dead, six in number.Fluent of speech, his sensitive mind again fitting into the deepgravity of the situation, Robert said a few words above them, wordsthat he felt, words that moved those who heard. Then the earth wasthrown in and stones and heavy boughs were placed over all to keepaway the digging wolves or other wild animals.
The wounded were made as comfortable as possible before the fire, andin the light of the brilliant flames the awe created by the deadquickly passed. Food was served and fresh water was drunk, thecanteens being refilled from a spring that Tayoga found a quarter of amile away. Then the soldiers, save six who had been posted as guard,stretched themselves on grass or leaves, and fell asleep, one byone. Tayoga who had made the greatest physical effort followed them tothe land of slumber, but Captain Colden sat and talked with Robert andWillet, although it was now far past midnight.
The bushes parted and a dark figure, making no sound as it came,stepped into the circle of light. It was Black Rifle and his eyesstill glittered, but he said nothing. Robert thought he saw upon hisface a look of intense satisfaction and once more he shuddered alittle. The man lay down with his rifle beside him, and fell asleep,his hands still clutching his weapon.
Before dawn Daganoweda and the Mohawks came back also, and Robert inbehalf of them all thanked the young chief in the purest Mohawk, andwith the fine phrasing and apt allegory so dear to the Indian heart.Daganoweda made a fitting reply, saying that the merit did not belongto him but to Manitou, and then, leaving a half dozen of his warriorsto join in the watch, he and the others slept before the fire.
"It was well that you played so strongly upon the feelings of theMohawks at that test in the vale of Onondaga, Robert," said Willet. "Ifyou had not said over and over again that the Quebec of the French wasonce the Stadacona of the Mohawks they would not have been heretonight to save us. They say that deeds speak louder than words, butwhen the same man speaks with both words and deeds people have got tohear."
"You give me too much credit, Dave. The time was ripe for a Mohawkattack upon the French."
"Aye, lad, but one had to see a chance and use it. Now, join allthose fellows in sleep. We won't move before noon."
But Robert's brain was too active for sleep just yet. While hisimaginative power made him see things before other people saw them, healso continued to see them after they were gone. The wilderness battlepassed once more before him, and when he brushed his eyes to thrust itaway, he looked at the sleeping Mohawks and thought what splendidsavages they were. The other tribes of the Hodenosaunee were stillholding to their neutrality--all that was asked of them--but theMohawks, with the memories of their ancient wrongs burning in theirhearts, had openly taken the side of the English, and tonight theirvalor and skill had undoubtedly saved the American force. Daganowedawas a hero! And so was Tayoga, the Onondaga, always the first of redmen to Robert.
His heated brain began to grow cool at last. The vivid pictures thathad been passing so fast before his eyes faded. He saw only reality,the blazing fire, the dusky figures lying motionless before it, andthe circling wall of dark woods. Then he slept.
Willet was the only white man who remained awake. He saw the greatfire die, and the dawn come in its place. He felt then for the firsttime in all that long encounter the strangeness of his own position.The wilderness, savages and forest battle had become natural to him,and yet his life had once been far different. There was a taste of adistant past in that fierce duel at Quebec when he slew the bravo,Boucher, a deed for which he had never felt a moment's regret, and yetwhen he balanced the old times against the present, he could not saywhich had the advantage. He had found true friends in the woods, menwho would and did risk their own lives to save his.
The dawn came swiftly, flooding the earth with light. Daganoweda andmany of the Mohawk warriors awoke, but the young Philadelphia captainand his men slept on, plunged in the utter stupor of exhaustion.Tayoga, who had made a supreme effort, both physical and mental, alsocontinued to sleep, and Robert, lying with his feet to the coals,never stirred.
Daganoweda shook himself, and, so shaking, shook the last shred ofsleep from his eyes. Then he looked with pride at his warriors, thosewho yet lay upon the ground and those who had arisen. He was a youngchief, not yet thirty years of age, and he was the bloom and flower ofMohawk courage and daring. His name, Daganoweda, the Inexhaustible,was fully deserved, as his bravery and
resource were unlimited. Butunlike Tayoga, he had in him none of the priestly quality. He had notdrunk or even sipped at the white man's civilization. The spiritualityso often to be found in the Onondagas was unknown to him. He was awarrior first, last and all the time. He was Daganoweda of the Clan ofthe Turtle, of the Nation Ganeagaono, the Keepers of the Eastern Gate,of the great League of the Hodenosaunee, and he craved no glory savethat to be won in battle, which he craved all the time.
Daganoweda, as he looked at his men, felt intense satisfaction,because the achievement of his Mohawks the night before had beenbrilliant and successful, but he concealed it from all save himself. Itwas not for a chief who wished to win not one victory, but a hundredto show undue elation. But he turned and for a few moments gazeddirectly into the sun with unwinking eyes, and when he shifted hisgaze away, a great tide of life leaped in his veins.
Then he gave silent thanks. Like all the other Indians in NorthAmerica the Mohawks personified and worshipped the sun, which to themwas the mighty Dweller in Heaven, almost the same as Manitou, a greatspirit to whom sacrifices and thanksgivings were to be made. The sun,an immortal being, had risen that morning and from his seat in thehighest of the high heavens he had looked down with his invincible eyewhich no man could face more than a few seconds, upon his favoritechildren, the Mohawks, to whom he had given the victory. Daganowedabowed a head naturally haughty and under his breath murmured thanksfor the triumph given and prayers for others to come.
The warriors built the fire anew and cooked their breakfasts. They hadvenison and hominy of three kinds according to the corn of which itwas made, _Onaogaant_ or the white corn, _Ticne_ or the red corn, and_Hagowa_ or the white flint corn. They also had bear meat and driedbeans. So their breakfast was abundant, and they ate with the appetiteof warriors who had done mighty deeds.
Daganoweda and Willet, as became great men, sat together on a log andwere served by a warrior who took honor from the task. Black Rifle satalone a little distance away. He would have been welcome in thecompany of the Mohawk chief and the hunter, but, brooding and solitaryin mind, he wished to be alone and they knew and respected his wish.Daganoweda glanced at him more than once as he remained in silence,and always there was pity in his looks. And there was admiration too,because Black Rifle was a great warrior. The woods held none greater.
When Robert awoke it was well on toward noon and he sprang up,refreshed and strong.
"You've had quite a nap, Robert," said Willet, who had not slept atall, "but some of the soldiers are still sleeping, and Tayoga has justgone down to the spring to bathe his face."
"Which I also will do," said Robert.
"And when you come back food will be ready for you."
Robert found Tayoga at the spring, flexing his muscles, and takingshort steps back and forth. "It was a great run you made," said thewhite youth, "and it saved us. There's no stiffness, I hope?"
"There was a little, Dagaeoga, but I have worked it out of mybody. Now all my muscles are as they were. I am ready to make anotherand equal run."
"It's not needed, and for that I'm thankful. St. Luc will not comeback, nor will Tandakora, I think, linger in the woods, hoping for ashot. He knows that the Mohawk skirmishers will be too vigilant."
As they went back to the fire for their food they heard a droning songand the regular beat of feet. Some of the Mohawks were dancing theBuffalo Dance, a dance named after an animal never found in theircountry, but which they knew well. It was a tribute to the vast energyand daring of the nations of the Hodenosaunee that they should rangein such remote regions as Kentucky and Tennessee and hunt the buffalowith the Cherokees, who came up from the south.
They called the dance Dageyagooanno, and it was always danced by menonly. One warrior beat upon the drum, _ganojoo_, and another used_gusdawasa_ or the rattle made of the shell of a squash. A dozenwarriors danced, and players and dancers alike sang. It was a mostsingular dance and Robert, as he ate and drank, watched it withcurious interest.
The warriors capered back and forth, and often they bent themselvesfar over, until their hands touched the ground. Then they would archtheir backs, until they formed a kind of hump, and they leaped to andfro, bellowing all the time. The imitation was that of a buffalo,recognizable at once, and, while it was rude and monotonous, bothdancing and singing preserved a rhythm, and as one listenedcontinuously it soon crept into the blood. Robert, with that singulartemperament of his, so receptive to all impressions, began to feelit. Their chant was of war and victory and he stirred to both. He wason the warpath with them, and he passed with them through the thick ofbattle.
They danced for a long time, quitting only when exhaustioncompelled. By that time all the soldiers were awake and Captain Coldentalked with the other leaders, red and white. His instructions tookhim farther west, where he was to build a fort for the defense of theborder, and, staunch and true, he did not mean to turn back because hehad been in desperate battle with the French and their Indian allies.
"I was sent to protect a section of the frontier," he said to Willet,"and while I've found it hard to protect my men and myself, yet I mustgo on. I could never return to Philadelphia and face our peoplethere."
"It's a just view you take, Captain Colden," said Willet.
"I feel, though, that my men and I are but children in thewoods. Yesterday and last night proved it. If you and your friendscontinue with us our march may not be in vain."
Willet glanced at Robert, and then at Tayoga.
"Ours for the present, at least, is a roving commission," said youngLennox. "It seems to me that the best we can do is to go with CaptainColden."
"I am not called back to the vale of Onondaga," said Tayoga, "I wouldsee the building of this fort that Captain Colden has planned."
"Then we three are agreed," said the hunter. "It's best not to speakto Black Rifle, because he'll follow his own notions anyway, and asfor Daganoweda and his Mohawks I think they're likely to resume theirmarch northward against the French border."
"I'm grateful to you three," said Captain Colden, "and, now that it'ssettled, we'll start as soon as we can."
"Better give them all a good rest, and wait until the morning," saidthe hunter.
Again Captain Colden agreed with him.
The Shadow of the North: A Story of Old New York and a Lost Campaign Page 4