CHAPTER XI.
The sprightly month of April brought sunny days and warm showers, opening buds and singing birds.
Ross Douglas had almost recovered his wonted health and strength. A slight twinge of pain in his chest, at times, and a little shortness of breath, on exercise, alone remained to remind him of his tedious illness.
He wandered about the village at will; but he was unarmed, and dozens of watchful eyes were upon him. He saw no chance of escape. At night Bradford occupied the cabin with him, never leaving him alone.
Frequently he met La Violette and tried to talk with her; but she was shy and reserved, and had little to say. He fancied that she avoided him—and it piqued him. Man-like he could not understand that she was trying to conquer her love for him; and he sought to re-establish their familiar companionship. His influence over her was such—she loved him so—that he succeeded. She could not resist his magnetic power. And with the true abandon of a simple, passionate child of the forest, she again drank of the intoxicating cup of love—and for the time was happy—in paradise.
Ross, also, became more cheerful. Perhaps hehad missed her companionship more than he would own—more than he knew. At any rate he was happier when she was at his side—when her violet eyes looked trustingly into his own gray ones, and her artless prattle fell upon his ear.
One day in the early part of the month, Bradford entered the hut and remarked:
“Douglas, I have your gun here—the one I took from you at Wildcat Creek. Do you want it?”
“Certainly,” Ross replied with animation.
“You can have it—and this pouch of ammunition—on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“That you don’t try to escape again.”
“I won’t try to escape—for the present.”
“That’s rather indefinite,” laughed the older man. “Explain.”
“When I have determined to make another attempt, I’ll apprise you of the fact. Is that satisfactory?”
“Perfectly. Here’s your gun. I think a little tramping about the woods will do you good. At least, it will help you to pass the time. You may go out with the Indians or by yourself, as you please. You have given me your word—I can trust you.”
Having his trusty rifle again in his possession, Douglas felt more like a man—less like a prisoner. Every day, almost, he took a long jaunt through the woods adjacent to the village, his weapon upon his shoulder. His object was twofold. He desired to toughen his muscles and regain his old powers ofendurance, and to become acquainted with the topography of the surrounding country. For he meant to make another desperate effort to escape, as soon as he felt equal to the task.
April gave place to May. The trees were in full leaf; the wild flowers, in full bloom. The air was warm and fragrant; and the birds sang all day long, in the dark, cool woodland.
Ross was now completely recovered from the effects of his wound, and ready for the project upon which his heart was set. But he was in a quandary. He could not make up his mind to break his promise to Bradford; yet he feared the result of making known his intentions. Would not his rifle again be taken from him and himself be confined and guarded as at Wildcat Creek? While he debated the question, the sunshiny days sped swiftly by.
About the middle of the month, a council of twelve tribes was held at the Miami village. Ringing speeches were made by various chiefs. Each tribe sought to lay the blame of the battle of Tippecanoe and its results upon the other. Much bad feeling existed. Tecumseh made an effort to reconcile and reunite the tribes of his confederacy, but failed. The council was afiasco—so far as the great chief’s desires and intentions were concerned. After indulging in mutual recriminations, and expressing themselves as being desirous of living at peace with the Americans, the members of the council took their departure—and the farce was at an end.
A number of white men were present, as spectators, at the council. But Bradford kept a close watch upon his prisoner; and the latter got no opportunity to communicate with the visitors. Whether they were Americans, or British subjects from across the lakes, Douglas could not ascertain.
About the first of June, Tecumseh, accompanied by a number of warriors, went to Fort Wayne and demanded ammunition. He was very haughty, and firm in his old opinions and intentions. The agent sought to induce him to remain at peace with the United States, but refused to give him ammunition.
Tecumseh made answer:
“My British father will not refuse my request. To him I will go.”
And giving a defiant war-whoop, he disappeared in the adjacent woods.
He went immediately to Malden, where he joined the English.
A short time after Tecumseh’s departure for Canada, an Indian runner arrived in the Mississinewa village. He brought the news that what had been expected long, had happened at last—that war had been declared between the United States and Great Britain, and that both nations were making preparations for a final struggle for supremacy upon the border. This intelligence greatly pleased Tenskwatawa and his braves. They saw a chance for scalps and plunder—and promptly resolved to join the British. The night of the messenger’s arrival was spent in feasting and rejoicing. Speeches weremade, and war-songs were chanted. When morning dawned, numbers of the warriors at once set out for the scenes of expected conflict.
If Hiram Bradford was elated over the news received, he succeeded in concealing the fact from Douglas. The latter was depressed and sorrowful. Well he knew what would be the fate of many exposed posts and settlements upon the border, as the result of such a war.
La Violette listened attentively to the impassioned speeches of the chiefs—speeches counseling murder and pillage—and sighed heavily. Yet when Ross questioned her as to what she thought, she replied firmly:
“The redmen have been wronged—deeply wronged. Their cause is a just one. They seek to recover what is their own; and they mean to take advantage of this opportunity. They should not be blamed; for in vain have they pleaded for justice. They will join the English, hoping to recover the land of their fathers. If the Seventeen Fires be successful in the struggle, the condition of the redmen will be no worse; if the English gain the victory, the condition of the redmen will be bettered—I hope, though I cannot fully trust the promises of the British. That the Indians will commit excesses is to be expected. No one deplores their mode of warfare more than I. But they are ignorant, superstitious, revengeful savages. God made them such.”
“La Violette, you talk as though these same ignorantsavages were your people, your relatives—as though their cause was your own,” Ross said sadly.
Her eyes flashed and her chest heaved, as she said angrily:
“What is it to you, Ross Douglas, how I talk—what I think? These miserable beings are all the friends I have—all I expect to have. You do not care who I am, what I am, or what may become of me! Why do you concern yourself about what Isayorthink? Your only desire is to escape and return to your—your home, to forget that you ever saw me!”
Bursting into tears, she turned and left him staring after her.
For the next few days Douglas was in a fever of unrest. Now he had an additional incentive to escape. His country again needed his services. He could not delay much longer—he must make the attempt, though he should court death in so doing. He said to himself:
“I’ll go to Bradford and give him warning of my intentions. I cannot break my word—I cannot act a dishonorable part, even to gain my liberty. No doubt he’ll disarm me and place me under close surveillance. No matter; I’ll elude the vigilance of his red hounds in some way. Perhaps I can make my way to Fort Wayne. The Indians are inflamed by the declaration of war; it will not be safe for me to remain here much longer—especially, if Bradford should be called away. Why doesthat man hold me captive? Idle question! I can’t answer it. Great heaven! Almost a year has passed since I left Amy. I’ll delay no longer. I’ll risk all upon one cast of the die!”
That evening another Indian runner arrived in the village. He came from Malden, and brought a message from Tecumseh to Tenskwatawa, to enlist all the warriors he could, and send them to Canada at once. The great chief promised that all who would come should be paid for their services and share in the plunder.
Tenskwatawa at once set about the work. His persuasive powers were great; the Indians feared his baleful influence; and scarcely a brave dared to disobey his orders. Within a surprisingly short time, he had a large number enlisted and ready to set out. Tecumseh had sent word that the women and children of the warriors enlisting should be sent, under escort, beyond the Mississippi; and that the Prophet should then raise another force to attack Vincennes. The great Shawnee promised to return and lead the attack upon that place. Tenskwatawa carried out his brother’s orders to the letter.
La Violette did not accompany the women and children on their long and lonely journey. The Prophet desired that she should do so; but she appealed to Bradford, with the result that she was permitted to stay with the few Indians remaining at the village—most of whom were Miamis that stubbornly refused to cast their lots in with the British.
All this occurred within a few days after the arrival of the runner from Canada.
This messenger also brought a sealed message from the English commander, to Bradford. Immediately upon its receipt, the latter went to Douglas and said:
“As you know, I’m in the employ of the British. I’ve just received instructions to go among the various tribes still remaining neutral, and try to enlist their services in behalf of the English government. I must start at once. Probably I shall be gone some weeks. You will remain here until I come back. You’ll not be lonely. La Violette will be your companion.”—He smiled a meaning smile.—“On my return we three will go to Canada. I’m sorry to part from you—for so short a time, even; but it can’t be helped. I don’t mind telling you that if my mission proves successful—as it will—it means thousands of pounds to me. And you shall share in my good-fortune. You will do as I wish?”
“I will not,” was the positive answer. “Why should I?”
“Because I desire you to do so,” Bradford returned coolly.
“Then I should play the part of a passive traitor, simply to please you who have wronged——” Ross began hotly, but came to an abrupt stop.
“Well?” And Bradford smiled broadly.
“I was going to say,” Douglas resumed calmly, “that according to your admissions, I should playthe traitor, to please you who have kept me a prisoner for months and still have me in your power.”
“You’ll not be playing the traitor; you’ll remain neutral—that’s all.”
“A passive traitor is as bad as an active one. I cannot consent to your proposal. I’ve been here too long already, much against my will. I wish to revisit my home for a few days—then again offer my services to my country. You say you are my friend. In some ways you have proven your assertion. Let me depart in peace.”
“You put my friendship to a severe test,” Bradford laughed.
“You will not grant my request?”
“No—I cannot.”
“Why?”—impatiently.
“Because to allow you to leave here would upset my plans.”
“Your plans?”
“Yes; the plans I have laid for your future.”
“Please explain,” Ross said, a sneer curling his lip.
“I wish Imightexplain to you—tell you everything,” Bradford answered very earnestly. “But I don’t dare to do so at present. I fear it might prove disastrous. Be patient just a little longer. You shall know all ere long. Then you’ll bless me for having kept you here.”
“Never!” Douglas cried angrily. “I’m no child—and I’ll not stay.”
“You mean to try to escape again?”
“Yes.”
For a half minute Bradford dropped his head in thought. Evidently he was greatly moved. At last he said sadly but decidedly—his husky voice hardly audible:
“You’re an honorable, upright gentleman, Ross Douglas; you keep your word, even when the breaking of it would give you the liberty you covet. I would set you free—but no! Youmustnot—youshallnot leave the place, until I am ready for you to do so. I’m off now. Good-by.”
Silently the two men shook hands and parted. Both were strangely moved.
A few minutes later Bradford was saying to a stalwart Shawnee brave—one of the few remaining at the Mississinewa village:
“Long Gun, you are not to join any of the expeditions against the Americans. Select a score of your most trusty warriors, and remain here to protect La Violette and guard Fleet Foot. This evening when the young paleface retires to rest, slip into the hut and disarm him. Do not lose sight of him at any time—and guard him well each night. Remember that he is fleet of foot, brave, and strong. Under no circumstances is he to be ill-treated or injured. Keep him safe until my return, and you shall have fifty pounds in gold. Here is ten pounds to bind the bargain. Can I depend on you?”
“Ugh!” ejaculated the imperturbable Long Gun, as one by one he dropped the jingling coins into his pouch.
Bradford hurried away toward Tenskwatawa’s cabin. Arriving there, he found the Prophet alone; and, striding up to him, said brusquely:
“I am leaving upon a mission to the neutral tribes. During my absence, La Violette is to remain here. Do you understand?”
Tenskwatawa nodded stiffly.
“Heed my words, then,” Bradford continued savagely. “If you drag her away from here in my absence—and thus defeat my plans—I will choke the life out of you, the first time I meet you. Beware!”
The cowering Prophet looked the impotent rage he felt, but did not open his lips. As he left the cabin Bradford chuckled huskily:
“I have cowed him. The miserable coward—he is afraid to say his life is his own!”
Then gravely:
“But he’s cunning—treacherous. What a wonderful, uncanny power he exerts over his ignorant people! I must not be long absent. What a sweet revenge it would be to him, to frustrate my designs. The only thing that will restrain him is his abject cowardice. How he hates me! And for what? Because I have made him bow the knee to me—the craven! Because my wishes have run counter to his selfish purpose—because I have done as I please concerning the welfare of that dear girl.”
Just outside of the door he met La Violette.
“I’m going away for a few weeks, La Violette,”he remarked. “In my absence improve your opportunity to the utmost.”
“What do you mean?” she asked softly, dropping her long lashes over her tell-tale eyes.
“You know what I mean, my little coquette,” he laughed lightly. “You have ensnared Ross Douglas’s heart. Throw a few more cords of love around it, to hold it secure.”
“Snared his heart!” she cried, petulantly stamping her moccasined foot. “Hehasno heart—it is in another’s keeping.”
“Not so, little one,” he answered positively. “He’sbetrothedto another—he muttered her name in his delirium—but he’s learning to loveyou. Already he loves you better than you know—than he suspects. Yours is the name that falls from his lips during sleep. Be patient—but persistent. Devote yourself to his comfort—make yourself necessary to his very existence. Above all, see to it that he doesn’t escape during my absence. Good-by.”
Ere she could make reply, Bradford had turned the corner of the cabin and disappeared. A half hour later he had set out upon his journey, accompanied by a half score of picked warriors.