The day was intensely hot, the wind nearly south-west, the sky deep blue towards the horizon, but waning to a hazy gold colour in the zenith, when, at an early hour on the Saturday morning, the great flotilla of General Abercrombie got under way. One large boat, modelled like a whale-boat, and so designated in contemporary accounts, led the way with the active and energetic second in command, accompanied by a portion of his own regiment. The rest followed, spreading out in the shape of an irregular wedge over the face of the lake, and the whole steered at once directly towards the Narrows.
Fresh, and peaceful, and beautiful was the scene upon that loveliest of lakes, with the wild mountains and sweeping forests round, and myriads of graceful islands studding the golden waters like gems. Lord H---- sat somewhat reclining on his cloak, in the stern of the leading boat, with a telescope in his hand, which, however, he did not use. The scene presented to his eye had sufficient in its general features to afford pleasant occupation to the thoughts; and he strove to turn them as much as possible towards objects unconnected with his own fate, or with the fate of the expedition.
Had he misgivings? it may be asked. I cannot tell. His mind was relieved in regard to Walter's fate, and he knew nothing of the painful circumstances in which Edith was placed. On those points his mind was at rest. Nay; with a kindly heart like his, there was ground for rejoicing; yet a certain degree of melancholy mingled with all his thoughts, which he could not altogether cast off. He strove, then, to occupy his mind with the contemplation of the ever-changing picture presented by the mountain, lake, and islands, as, with a gentle, pleasant breeze, the boat sailed on--to forget the bloody business of the coming hours, the contest for which he thought he had provided as far as human foresight could reach, and to fancy himself a wandering traveller enjoying a summer's sail on holy waters. Diamond Island was soon passed, Long Island left to the eastward, and the rich narrow strip of low land extending far into the lake, and known as Long Point, was rounded by the boat in which he sat.
He gazed back to see how near the others were following, and then looked forward again. Trench Mountain, Deer-pasture Mountain, Harris's Bay, Dunham's Bay, were left behind; and the Dome Island, rising up in the midst of the waters, like the cupola of some large submerged cathedral, was right in front. Many another little islet was seen scattered round, with that peculiar and magical effect of the hazy midsummer light, making them look hardly real.
At length, the high, precipitous cliff, known as Shelving Bock, on the one hand, and the Tongue Mountain on the other, were seen in front, announcing the approach to the Narrows: while the top of the Black Mountain appeared dark and grim over the lower land in the foreground.
More caution now became necessary, for hitherto no fear had been entertained that the sailing of the flotilla would be discovered by the enemy's scouts; but that part of the lake most frequently swept by the French boats was near at hand, and it became necessary to keep as far in shore as possible and take advantage of every headland and island as a means of concealment in order to hide the approach and number of the armament till the last moment.
The general orders having been given, Lord H---- again lay quiet, and meditated. On an active and energetic spirit, the saddest thoughts are most apt to obtrude in moments of forced tranquillity. He could not cast them off; he tried to think of everything that was happy--of Edith--of his speedy union with her who had become the brightness of his life--of pleasant days beyond the sea, far away in their peaceful native land. Still, still, through all the visions he conjured up, of hope, and happiness, and long cheerful hours, came chiming, like the tolling of a bell, the sad prophetic words of question, "Shall I ever see her more?" and he longed for the moment of landing, to shake off thought in exertion.
At length it came. The wild, strange scenery of the Buck Mountain and the Rattlesnake Dens was seen upon the left, with, stretching out in front, the low fertile sweep of land known from that day forward as Sabbath-day Point. Here, in the evening, the troops landed for refreshment; and the boats were drawn up to the southward, under cover of the banks and woods, with but a few miles further sail on the following day, ere they reached the point of attack.
Happy are the thoughtless; for, though perhaps they enjoy not so highly, and their pleasure is of a lower kind, they can take delight in each sunshiny hour that God grants them in their course through life. The brief repose, the pleasant meal, the fair and the strange things around, afforded matter for much happiness to many a light heart there during the halt of the army; but it was not so with Lord H----. He knew that the next day was to be one of great fatigue, difficulty, and exertion; and, in order that his corporeal powers might be in full activity, he lay down and tried to sleep; but sleep would not come, and he had not closed an eye, when, towards midnight, the order was given to form upon the beach and re-embark.
Every one, as well as the young nobleman, felt that to be a solemn moment. The sky was clear and bright; the stars were shining out large and lustrous; not a breeze was felt; the clear waters of the lake were smooth as a sheet of glass; the only sound that stirred the air was the tramp of the troops towards the boats, the whirring insects in the trees, and the wailing voice of the whip-poor-will.
All was conducted as silently as possible; the oars of the boats were muffled; and once more Lord H---- led the way with a few bodies of rangers in severalbateaux. The regular troops followed in the centre of the line, and the volunteers of the provinces formed wings on either side. Stilly and silently, the flight of boats skimmed over the waters, till, after a few hours of solemn darkness, day dawned upon them, revealing to the scouts of Montcalm, upon the rocky eminences near the shore, the full blaze of the English uniforms in the innumerable boats sweeping down as if to certain conquest.
Somewhat less than an hour after, the first boat neared what is called Prisoner's Island, bore away a little to the westward, where the ground was open, touched the shore, and the young nobleman instantly sprang to land. From that day, it has borne the name of Howe's Landing. Regiment after regiment followed. The debarkation was perfectly orderly and uninterrupted, and it was evident that the French garrison of Ticonderoga, if not actually taken by surprise, was attacked much sooner than had been expected.
The number of the Indians with the army was actually small; but it was known that large parties of Mohawks, Oneidas, and even Onondagas, were hovering on the flanks, sweeping, in fact, in a crescent round that which was then considered the key of Lake Champlain.
It was nearly noon before the disembarkation was completed, and the men formed into three columns, ready for advance. The first column, however, then plunged into the woods, headed by Lord H---- in person, and pushed on for some little way unopposed, except by the difficulties of the road, which at every step became greater and greater, from the thick juniper bushes and tangled brushwood which encumbered the ground under the larger trees. The men's strength was spent in contending with these natural obstacles; and, to give them time to breathe, Lord H---- halted his corps for a moment at the first open space in the woods which they reached. He himself leaned upon the short ranger's musket which he carried in his hand, his fine, expressive countenance glowing with exercise and eagerness, and beaming encouragement upon the gallant men who followed him on what they fully believed to be the road to victory.
At that moment something was heard plunging through the thick brushwood on the left, and an Indian in his full war-costume, painted and armed, burst out into the open space, holding up a piece of paper in his hand. He darted instantly towards the commander of the column, lifting the paper high; and Lord H----, who was just upon the point of giving the order to advance again, paused and stretched forth his hand. What the man gave him was not a letter, but apparently merely a leaf torn out of a pocket-book; and the moment it was delivered, the Indian, whose eyes had been gleaming with eagerness, dropped his arms by his side, and stood as still as a statue.
Lord H---- gazed upon the paper, and beheld, written in pencil, apparently in great haste, the following words:--
"There is a masked redoubt in front, as far as I can discover, a little to the east of the brook. It is concealed by low bushes, and the gaps in the under-wood are filled up with boughs of pine. Edith is within, a prisoner. Beware! we are marching forward rapidly to take it in reverse--I mean the Oneidas.
"WALTER PREVOST."
Several of the superior officers had gathered round, and, amongst the rest, a man deservedly famous in those and succeeding times, then simply known as Major Putnam.
"We have been seen by friend, if not by enemies, Putnam," said Lord H----, handing to him the paper.
"What do you advise to be done? You are more skilled in wood warfare than I am."
"Send back the Indian," answered Major Putnam. "Let him tell his brethren to advance as speedily as possible, and help to clear the woods. Then give me a hundred rangers and a handful of Indians, and I will push on myself, and make a way for you."
"Good," said Lord H----. "Call out your men, Putnam, while I send away the Indian."
Beckoning up an interpreter, the nobleman gave their savage allies directions, telling him particularly to report the exact spot which the column had reached; and by the time this was done, and the man gone, Major Putnam had placed himself at the head of his little party, ready to dash on.
"Stay, Putnam," said Lord H----. "You command; but I go with you."
Putnam paused, and dropped the point of his sword, looking almost aghast.
"My Lord," he said, "I beg you will forbear. If I am killed, the loss of my life will be of little consequence to any one; but the preservation of your life is of infinite importance to this army."
Lord H---- laid his hand upon his arm, saying,--
"Putnam, your life is as dear to you as mine is to me. I am determined to go. Lead on."
The next moment, they dashed on at quick time along a trail which opened before them. The few Indians who accompanied the party, scattered as usual to the right and left; and, for some little way, they made good progress through the tangled wood. At length, however, all, even to the natives, became puzzled by the number of trails crossing each other, and the thick and intricate nature of the wood; still they forced their way forward, judging the direction they ought to take by the way the shadows of the trees were thrown by the sunshine. Thus, for four or five hundred yards, they pushed on without seeing an enemy, when Putnam, suddenly pointing with his sword, exclaimed,--
"There goes a Frenchman's cap--more of them--more of them! Now, gallant rangers, down with your pieces, and make your barrels ring!"
In an instant, every gun was levelled; but, at the same moment, a sharp flash ran along the trees and bushes beyond; the loud report of firearms rattled through the forest, and one of the young officers of the rangers dropped at once. Several privates fell before they could draw the trigger; and while the rest were sending a fatal volley into the wood--
"On, on!" cried Putnam; "clear the copse of them! My lord, what is the matter?"
Lord H---- stood for a moment longer without answering; then wavered for an instant on his feet, and fell back into the arms of a sergeant of the rangers.
"I knew it!" cried Putnam. "Forward, my men! Forward, forward! and avenge this noble fellow!"
Very different from the array of Abercrombie's army was the march of the Oneidas through the deep woods on the western side of Lake Horicon. Far spread out, and separate from each other, they pursued a number of different trails in profound silence, and in single files of not more than twenty or thirty each; yet, with what seemed a sort of instinct, each party directed its course unerringly to one particular point. They knew the spot they were to strike--they knew the time they were to be there; and at that spot and at that time, each little band appeared with its most famous warrior at its head. Thus, in the small savannah where the poor negress, Sister Bab, had found the advance-guard of the whole nation, nearly six hundred warriors of the children of the Stone assembled on the night of Saturday.
Dressed, like themselves, with tomahawk and knife in his belt, and moccassins upon his feet, appeared Walter Prevost, distinguished from the rest by his fair skin and flowing hair. The sports of the field, the wild life he had led for several years, and even the hardships he had lately suffered, had fitted him for all the fatigues of an Indian march, and rendered a frame naturally strong extraordinarily robust and active. Ignorant of any danger to those he best loved, rejoicing in deliverance from captivity and the peril of death, and full of bright hopes for the future, his heart was light and gay, and happiness added energy to vigour. The hardy warriors with whom he marched saw, with surprise and admiration, the son of the pale-face bear difficulties and fatigues as well as themselves, and come in at the close of day as fresh and cheerful.
The fires were lighted, the rifles piled near to each separate band, and the food, which they brought with them, cooked after their manner, and distributed amongst them; but the meal was not over ere another small band joined them, and Black Eagle himself passed round the different fires till he paused by that at which Walter was seated. None of his own people had taken any notice of his approach. Once or twice one of the warriors, indeed, looked up as he went by; but no sign of reverence or even of recognition was given, till Walter, after the European fashion, rose and extended his hand.
"Thou art before me, my son," said the chief; "the wings of the Black Eagle have had far to fly. I have visited thy father's lodge, and have followed him to the new Castle at the mid-day end of Horicon."
"My father!" exclaimed Walter, in great surprise. "Was he not at his house?"
"Nay, he is a war-chief with the army," returned Black Eagle.
"Then, where is Edith?" inquired the young man. "Did you leave the Blossom with her?"
"I left Otaitsa at thy father's house," answered the chief; "but thy sister was not there."
"Where was she, then?" asked Walter, with some alarm.
"I know not," answered Black Eagle, and was silent.
"Perhaps he has taken her to Albany," rejoined the young man. "But you saw my father. How did he fare?"
"Well," answered Black Eagle; "quite well; and he gives thee to Otaitsa. The Blossom is thine."
"Then Edith is safe," said Walter, in a tone of relief; "and his mind must have been relieved about me, for he could not be well, or seem well, if either of his children were in danger."
"The red man feels as much as the white man," observed Black Eagle; "but he leaves tears and lamentations, sighs and sad looks, to women and children. Where is the Night Hawk? and where are the warriors who went with him?"
"They are on before," replied the youth. "We have not seen them; but their fires have been lighted here."
No further questions were asked by the chief; and, walking slowly away, he seated himself with those who had accompanied him, to partake of the meat they were making ready.
Few words were spoken amongst the various groups assembled there, and some twenty minutes had elapsed when one of the young men, seated at the fire with the Black Eagle, started up, and darted away towards the north like a frightened deer. No one took any notice, and several soon after composed themselves to sleep. The others sat round their fires, with their heads bent down almost to their knees; and the murmur of a few sentences, spoken here and there, was the only sound that broke the silence for nearly an hour.
At the end of that time, two young warriors on the north side of the savannah started up and listened, and shortly after, several of the Oneidas who rested in the neighbourhood of the same spot the night before, were seen coming through the long grass, and crossing the tiny brook which meandered through the midst.
Led by the young messenger who had lately departed to seek for them, they glided up to the fire of the great chief, and seated themselves beside him. The conversation then grew earnest and quick; and eager gestures and flashing eyes might have been seen.
The great body of the Oneidas took not the slightest notice of what was occurring around the council-fire of the Black Eagle; but Walter watched every look with an indefinable feeling of interest and curiosity; and, after much discussion, and many a long pause between, the chief beckoned him up, and made him sit in the circle.
"Thou art young to talk with warriors," said the Black Eagle, when he was seated. "Thy hand is strong against the panther and the deer, but it has never taken the scalp of an enemy. But the daughter of the white man Prevost is my daughter, and she is thy sister. Know then, my son, that she is in the power of the French. The Honontkoh, whom we have expelled,--they are wolves,--have taken her: they have run her down as a hungry pack runs down a fawn, and have delivered her and themselves into the hands of the enemy. The muzzles of their rifles have fire for our bosoms: their knives are hungry for our scalps. Be not a woman, who cannot hear with a calm eye, or limbs that are still; but sit and listen, and thus prove thyself a warrior in the fight."
He then went on to repeat all that he had just heard from the chief who had succoured the poor negress on the preceding night, and all that had been done since.
"The Night Hawk was right," he said, "to send word that we would deliver thy sister, for she is a daughter of the Oneida. The story, also, of the Dark Cloud is true; for the children of the Stone have caused search to be made, and they have found the horses that were lost, and the body of the man they slew. They scalped him not, it is true; for what is the scalp of a negro worth? but the print of the tomahawk was between his eyes."
"Let me have a horse," cried Walter, "and I will bring her out from the midst of them."
"The swallow flies faster than the eagle," returned the chief; "but where is his strength? Listen, boy, to the words that come forth from many years. Thy sister must be delivered; but our brethren, the English, must know of this ambush, lest they fall into it. So, too, shall she be saved more surely. Draw thou upon paper the history of the thing, and send it to the great chief thy friend, the Falling Cataract. I will find a messenger who knows him. Then will we break in upon this ambush at the same time with the English, and the scalps of the Honontkoh shall hang upon the war-post, for they are not the children of the Stone--they spat upon their mother. One of the horses, too, shalt thou have to save thy sister out of the fight, if a thing with four feet can run easily in this forest."
"There is the great trail from the setting sun to the Place of the Sounding Waters," said the Night Hawk. "A horse can run there as well as a deer. It passes close by the back of the hiding-place of the Frenchman."
"Let me hear," said Walter, mastering his emotion, and striving to imitate the calm manner of the Indians, "let me hear where this hiding-place is, and what it is like. The white man, though he be but young, knows the ways of the white man best; and he may see light where the older eyes fail."
In language obscured by figures, but otherwise clear and definite enough, the Night Hawk described the masked redoubt of the French, and its position.
Ignorant of the ground about the fortress, Walter could form but an insufficient judgment of the spot where it was situated; but the form and nature of the work he comprehended well enough. He mused in silence a minute or two after the chief had spoken, giving the Black Eagle good hope of his acquiring in time the Indian coolness; and then he said,--
"It would be better for us, while the army attacks the redoubt in front, to take it in reverse."
"What meanest thou, my son?" asked Black Eagle; for Walter, still busy with his own thoughts, had spoken in English.
The young man explained his meaning more clearly in the Iroquois tongue, showing that, as the enemy's position was, probably, from want of time, only closed on three sides, it would be easy for an Indian party, by making a circuit, to come upon the rear of the French, unless some considerable body of natives was thrown out upon their western flank. The Night Hawk nodded his head slowly, with a look of approbation, saying,--
"The Hurons are dogs, and creep close to the heels of their master. They are all within the stones or the mounds of earth, except those watching by the side of Horicon. The Night Hawk has skimmed over the ground towards the setting sun, and there is no print of a moccassin upon the trail."
"Thou hast the cunning of a warrior when thou art calm," said Black Eagle; "and it shall be as thou hast said. We will spring upon the back of the game. But let the Falling Cataract know quickly. Hast thou the means? He will not understand the belt of wampum, and knows not the tongue of the Oneida."
"I can find means," said Walter, taking from the pouch he carried a pencil and an old pocket-book. "But where will thy messenger find him, my father?"
"He is not far," answered the chief. "He sailed to-day from the mid-day towards the cold wind, with the war-party of the English. I watched them from the Black Mountain, and they are a mighty people. They floated on Horicon like a string of swans; and their number upon the blue waters was like a flight of passage-pigeons upon the sky, when they travel westward. They landed where the earth becomes a lizard by the Rattlesnake Dens. But how long they may tarry, who shall say? Send quickly, then."
Walter had been writing on his knee while the chief spoke; and the brief note which we have already seen delivered was speedily finished. A messenger was then chosen for his swiftness of foot, and despatched at once to the point where the English army first landed.
When he returned, all was still amongst the Oneidas; and the warriors, with but few exceptions, were sleeping in the long grass. The news he brought, however, soon roused the drowsiest. The English flotilla had sailed on, he said. He had found but a solitary canoe, with a few Mohawks, who told him that the battle would be on the following morning. All the warriors were on their feet in a moment; their light baggage and arms were snatched up in haste. One party was detached to the east, to watch the movements of the army; and before half an hour had gone by, the dusky bands were once more moving silently through the dark paths of the forest, only lighted from time to time by glimpses of the moon, and directed by the well-known stars which had so often guided their fathers through the boundless wilderness.
Calm, and bright, and beautiful, the Sabbath morning broke over the woody world around Edith Prevost. Through the tall pine-trees left standing within the earthwork, the rosy light streamed sweetly; and though no birds deserving the name of songsters inhabit the forests of America, yet many a sweet short note saluted the rising day.
Edith, with the good negro woman lying near, had slept more soundly than she had hoped; but she was awake with the first ray, and rousing her dark companion, she said,--
"We must not forget that this is Sunday, Bab. Call in our good friend, Woodchuck; and we will pray before the noise and bustle of the day begins. I am sure he will be glad to do so."
"But you have no book, missy," answered the woman.
"That matters not," returned Edith; "I know almost all the prayers by heart, from reading them constantly."
Sister Bab opened the little hurdle-door, and looked round. She could not see the person she sought. Three sentinels were pacing to and fro at different points; one man was rousing himself slowly from the side of an extinguished fire; but all the rest within sight were fast asleep. It was useless for Sister Bab to ask the neighbouring sentinel any questions, and she looked round in vain.
"He has most likely gone to sleep in one of the huts," said Edith, when the woman told her Woodchuck was not to be seen; "we will not wait for him." And, closing the door again, she kneeled and prayed with the poor negress by her side.
It was a great comfort to her, for her heart that day was sad. Perhaps it was the memory of many a happy Sabbath with those she loved, and the contrast of those days with her situation at the time; perhaps it was the uncertainty of her brother's fate; and doubtless, too, the thought that every rising sun brought nearer the hour when a parent and a lover were to be exposed to danger--perhaps to death, had its weight likewise. But she was that day very sad, and prayer was a relief--a blessing.
Before she had concluded, a good deal of noise and turmoil was heard without; voices speaking sharply; calls such as Edith had not heard before; and in a moment after, the door of the hut opened, for it had no latch, and Monsieur le Courtois appeared, inquiring if she had seen anything of her English companion.
"No, indeed," replied Edith. "I sent my servant out to seek for him half an hour ago; but she could not find him, and I concluded that he was in one of the huts."
The Frenchman stamped his foot upon the ground, and, forgetting his usual politeness, uttered some hasty and angry words which implied a belief that "Mademoiselle knew where Woodchuck was," and had aided his escape. Edith drew herself up with an air of dignity, and replied,--
"You make me feel, sir, that I am a prisoner. But you mistake me greatly. I do not permit myself to speak falsely on any occasion. If he have escaped, and I trust he has, I know nothing of it."
"I beg your pardon, mademoiselle," returned the officer; "but this to me is a very serious matter. I may be subject to the severest military punishment for this unfortunate affair. It was of the utmost importance that the existence of this post should be kept a secret. The utmost precautions have been taken to keep its existence concealed, even from the forces in Fort Carillon; and now this man is at large, to bear the intelligence to the enemy. This must excuse a little heat. How he has escaped, it is impossible to divine; for I ordered him to be kept in sight by the sentinels continually, as well as the Indians who came with you. He must be worse than an Indian, fortheyare all safe and quiet enough; but he has disappeared, though the sentinel swears he passed him sleeping on the ground, under the great pine-tree, not an hour ago."
"Half an hour ago, he certainly was gone," observed Edith; "for the servant went to look for him, and could not find him."
"He may be still in the bushes," said the French officer. "I will send a party to search." And he turned from the door of the hut.
Edith followed a step or two, to see the result; but hardly had Monsieur Le Courtois given his orders, and about a dozen men issued forth--some clambering over the breastwork, some running round by the flanks--when a French officer, brilliantly dressed, rode into the redoubt, followed by a mounted soldier; and Edith retired into the hut again.
Le Courtois saluted the new-comer reverently; and the other gave a hasty glance round, saying,--
"Get your men under arms as speedily as possible. On the maintenance of this post and theabattisdepends the safety of the fortress. I trust them to the honour of a French gentleman, and the faith of our Indian allies. Neither will tarnish the glory of France, or their own renown, by yielding a foot of ground while they can maintain it."
He spoke aloud, so as to make his voice heard all over the enclosure; but then, bending down his head till it was close to Le Courtois' ear, he added, in a low tone, almost a whisper,--
"The English are within sight. Their first boats are disembarking the troops. Monsieur de L----, with our reinforcements, has not appeared. All depends upon maintaining the outposts till he can come up. This, sir, I trust to you with full confidence, as a brave man and an experienced soldier. I must now visit the other posts. Farewell! Remember, the glory of France is in your hands."
Thus saying, he rode away; and the bustle of instant preparation spread through the little fort. The French soldiers were drawn up within the breastworks; the stores and ammunition gathered together near the centre of the open space, so as to be readily available whenever they were wanted; two parties of Hurons were placed upon the flanks, so as to be ready to rush out with the tomahawk the moment opportunity offered; next came the long lines of French muskets, and in the centre of the longest face of the breastwork were placed Apukwa and his companions, with their rifles in their hands, and a small party of French soldiers forming a second line behind them, thus insuring their faith, and rendering the fire in the centre more fierce. Their presence, indeed, was needed at the moment; for the men who had been sent out in pursuit of Woodchuck had either mistaken the order not to go far, or had lost their way; and they had not re-appeared when the whole preparations were complete.
These had taken some time, although Monsieur le Courtois had shown all the activity and precision of a thorough soldier, giving his orders rapidly, but coolly and clearly, and correcting any error as soon as made. The Indians, indeed, gave him the greatest embarrassment; for they were too eager for the fight, and never having been subjected to military discipline, were running hither and thither to the points they thought most advantageous without consideration for the general arrangements.
The Frenchman found time, however, for a few courteous words to Edith.
"I am greatly embarrassed, my dear young lady," he said, "by your presence here, as we expect to be attacked every instant. I wish to Heaven, Monsieur de Montcalm had taken you away with him; but in the hurry of the moment I did not think of it, and I have no means of sending you away now; and, besides, the risk to yourself would be still greater than staying here. I believe you are as safely posted in this hut as anywhere. It is near enough to the breastwork to be protected from the fire of the enemy; but you may as well lie down upon the bear-skin if you hear musketry."
"Could I not place myself actually under the breastwork?" asked Edith, remembering the instructions sent to her.
"Impossible," replied the officer. "That space is all occupied by the soldiers and Indians. You are better here. If we should be driven back, which God forbid, you will be safe, as you speak English, and can say who you are; but, remember, address yourself to an officer, for the canaille get mad in time of battle, and on no account trust to an Indian."
"I speak the Iroquois tongue," answered Edith.
"My dear young lady, there is no trusting them," said the officer; "friends or enemies are the same to them when their blood's hot. All they want is a scalp; and that theywillhave. It would be terrible to see your beautiful tresses hanging at an Indian's belt."
As he spoke, one of the men who had been sent forth came running up, exclaiming,--
"They are coming now, captain,--they are coming."
"Who?" demanded Le Courtois, briefly.
"The red-coats, the English," replied the man. "I saw their advance-guard with my own eyes; they are not two hundred yards' distance."
"Where are your companions?" asked Le Courtois. "We want every musket."
"I do not know," answered the man; "they have lost their way, I fancy, as I did. I saw two amongst the bushes just in front, trying to get back."
"Sacré Dieu, they will discover us!" said the captain.
And, running forward, he jumped upon the parapet just behind one of the highest bushes, and looked over. The next instant, he sprang down again, saying, in a low tone, to the corporal near him,--
"Stand to your arms! present! pass the word along not to fire, whatever you see, till I give the order."
At the same moment, he made a sign with his hand to the renegade Oneidas; but probably they did not see it, for their keen black eyes were all eagerly bent forward, peeping through the bushes, which now seemed agitated at some little distance. A moment after, a straggling shot or two was heard, and instantly the Honontkoh fired. The order was then given by Le Courtois, and the whole front poured forth a volley, which was returned by a number of irregular shots blazing out of the bushes in front.
Then succeeded a silence of a few moments, and then a loud cheer, such as none but Anglo-Saxon lungs have ever given.
Edith sat deadly pale and trembling in the hut; but it is not too much to say that but a small portion of her terror was for herself. The battle had begun--the battle in which father and lover were to risk life, in which, among all the human beings destined to bleed and die that day, her love singled out two, while her fancy painted them as the aim of every shot. It was of them she thought, much more than of herself.
The door of the hut was turned, as I have shown, towards the inside of the square; and Captain le Courtois had left it open behind him. But, as Edith sat a little towards one side of the entrance, she had a view, both of a great part of the square itself, and of the whole of the inner front of the western face of the redoubt, along which were posted a few French soldiers and a considerable body of Hurons.
The firing was soon resumed, but in a somewhat different manner from before. There were no longer any volleys, but frequent, repeated, almost incessant, shots, sometimes two or three together, making almost one sound. Twice she saw a French soldier carried across the open space; and laid down at the foot of a tree. One remained quite still where he had been placed; one raised himself for a moment upon his arm, and then sank down again; and Edith understood the signs full well. Clouds of bluish-white smoke then began to roll over the redoubt, and curl along as the gentle wind carried it towards the broad trail by which she had been brought thither. The figures of the Indians became indistinct, and looked like beings seen in a dream.
Still the firing continued, drawing apparently more towards the western side, and still the rattle of the musketry was mingled with loud cheers from without.
But suddenly those sounds were crossed, as it were, with a wild yell, such as Edith had heard only once in life before, but which now seemed to issue from a thousand throats, instead of a few. It came from the northwest, right in the direction of the broad trail. The French soldiers and the Hurons, who had been kneeling to fire over the breastwork, sprang upon their feet, looked round, and from that side, too, burst forth at once the war-whoop.
"O missy, missy, let us run!" cried Sister Bab, catching Edith's wrist.
"Hush, hush, be quiet!" ejaculated the young lady. "These may be friends coming."
As she spoke, pouring on like a dark torrent was seen a crowd of dusky forms rushing along the trail, emerging from amongst the trees, and spreading over the ground; and, amidst them all, a youth dressed like an Indian, and mounted on a grey horse which Edith recognized as her own. The sight confused and dazzled her. Feathers and plumes and war-paints, rifles and tomahawks and knives, grim countenances and brandished arms, swam before her like the things that fancy sees for a moment in a cloud; while still the awful war-whoop rang horribly around, drowning even the rattle of the musketry, and seeming to rend the air. Two figures only were distinct: the youth upon the horse, and the towering form of Black Eagle himself, close to the lad's side.
Attacked in flank and front and rear, the French and Hurons were broken in a moment, driven from the breastworks, beat back into the centre of the square, and separated into detached bodies. Still they fought with desperation; still the rifles and the muskets pealed; still the cheer, and the shout, and the war-whoop, resounded on the air. A large party of the French soldiery were cast between the huts and the Oneidas, and the young man on the horse strove in vain, tomahawk in hand, to force his way through.
But there are episodes in all combats; and a pause took place when a gigantic Huron rushed furiously against the Black Eagle. It may be that they were ancient enemies; but, at all events, each seemed animated with the fury of a fiend. Each cast away his rifle, and betook himself to the weapons of his race--the knife and the tomahawk; but it is almost impossible to describe, it was almost impossible to see, the movements of the two combatants, such was their marvellous rapidity. Now here, now there, they turned, the blows seeming to fall like hail, the limbs writhing and twisting, the weapons whirling and flashing round. Each was the giant of his tribe, each its most renowned warrior; and each fought for more than life--for the closing act of a great renown. But the sinewy frame of the Black Eagle seemed to prevail over the more bulky strength of his opponent; the Huron lost ground; he was driven back to the great pine-tree near the centre of the square; he was forced round and round it; the knife of the Black Eagle drank his blood, but missed his heart, and only wounded him in the shoulder.
Those nearest to the scene had actually paused in the contest for a moment to witness the fierce single combat going on; but in other parts of the square the bloody fight was still continued. For an instant, the French party in front of the huts, by desperate efforts, seemed likely to overpower the Oneidas before them. A tall French grenadier bayoneted the Night Hawk before Edith's eyes; and then, seeing the Huron chief staggering under the blows of his enemy, he dashed forward, and, not daring in the rapid whirls of the two combatants to use his bayonet there, he struck the Black Eagle on the head with the butt of his musket. The blow fell with tremendous force, and drove the great chief on his knee, with one hand on the ground. His career seemed over, his fate finished. The Huron raised his tomahawk high to strike; the Frenchman shortened his musket to pin the chief to the earth.
But, at that moment, a broad, powerful figure dropped down from the branches of the pine-tree between the Oneida and the grenadier, bent slightly with his fall, but even in rising lifted a rifle to his shoulder, and sent the ball into the Frenchman's heart. With a yell of triumph, Black Eagle sprang up from the ground, and in an instant his tomahawk was buried in the undefended head of his adversary.
Edith beheld not the end of the combat; for, in the swaying to and fro of the fierce struggle, the French soldiery had, by this time, been driven past the huts, and the eye of one who loved her was upon her.
"Edith, Edith!" cried the voice of Walter Prevost, forcing the horse forward through the struggling groups, amidst shots and shouts and falling blows. She saw him, she recognized him, she stretched forth her arm towards him; and, dashing between two parties, Walter forced the horse up to the door of the hut, and caught her hand.
"Spring up, spring up!" he cried, bending down, and casting his arms around her. "This is not half over; I must carry you away."
Partly lifted, partly springing from the ground, Edith bounded up before him; and, holding her tightly to his heart, Walter turned the rein, and dashed away through friends and enemies, trampling, unconscious of what he did, alike on the dead and the dying. The western side of the square was crowded with combatants, and he directed his horse's head towards the east, reached the angle, and turned sharp round to get in the rear of the English column, which was seen forcing its way onward to support the advance party of Major Putnam. He thought only of his sister, and pressing her closer to his heart, he said,--
"We are safe, Edith--we are safe!"
Alas, he said it too soon! One group in the square had stood almost aloof from the combat. Gathered together in the south-eastern angle, Apukwa and his companions seemed watching an opportunity for flight. But their fierce eyes had seen Walter, and twice had a rifle clanged at him from that spot, but without effect. They saw him snatch his sister from the hut, place her on the horse, and gallop round. Apukwa, the brother of the Snake, and two others, jumped upon the parapet, and scarcely had Walter uttered the words, "We are safe!" when the fire blazed at once from the muzzles of their rifles. One ball whistled by his ear, another passed through his hair; but, clasping Edith somewhat closer, he galloped on, and in two minutes after came to a spot where three or four men were standing, and one kneeling with his hand under the head of a British officer who had fallen.
Walter reined up the horse sharply, for he was almost over them before he saw them; but the sight of the features of the dead man drew the sudden exclamation from his lips of "Good God!" They were those of Lord H----. Edith's face, as he held her, was turned towards him, and he fancied that she rested her forehead on his bosom to shut out the terrible sights around. He looked down at her to see whether she had caught even a glimpse of the features of the corpse. Her forehead was resting there still; but over the arm that held her so closely to his heart Walter saw welling a dark red stream of blood. He trembled like a leaf.
"Edith!" he exclaimed, "Edith!"
There was no answer. He pushed the bright chestnut curls from her forehead; and, as he did so, the head fell back, showing the face as pale as marble. She had died without a cry, without a sound.
Walter bent his head, and kissed her cheek, and wept.
"What is the matter, sir?" said the sergeant, rising from beside the body of Lord H----. "Did you know my lord?"
"Look here!" cried Walter. It was all he uttered. But in an instant they gathered round him, and lifted Edith from the horse. The sergeant put his hand upon the wrist, then shook his head sadly, and they laid her gently by the side of Lord H----. They knew not with how much propriety,--but thus she would have loved to rest.
Thus they met, and thus they parted; thus they loved and thus they died. But in one thing they were happy; for neither, at the last hour of life, knew the other's peril or the other's fate.