CHAPTER IXTHE WHITE EAGLE OF THE IROQUOISThe Indian who had raised his scalping-knife drew back, and a plumed and painted chieftain stepped forward. It was none other than the renowned "White Eagle"--the greatest chief amongst the Six Nations. The same daring and unconquered spirit who had made his escape from the frigate, as she lay anchored in the river below Quebec."Stay! Let me see the young palefaces, who do not run like the hares," he commanded.As he bent over the prostrate youths, he was unable to restrain a slight, involuntary start. A sudden gleam of remembrance flashed across his countenance, and chased away for an instant the ferocity of the savage. He recognised in them the young prisoners who, aboard theSapphire, had dared to offer him a drink of water at the risk of losing their own promised liberty.Then, in a loud voice which all could hear, he uttered those words, which caused Jack to open his eyes for an instant--"Stay! He is the paleface brother of the White Eagle."The braves quickly gathered around him, for they were all astounded at these words; but he continued--"These are not the children of the Canadas. They are the friends of the red man, and the children of the Yengeese. They come from the land of the sun-rising. They were prisoners with White Eagle, in the big canoe with wings, in the river of Canada, and when the children of the French king treated the Eagle as the squaw of a Delaware, and even offered him the bitter salt water to drink, the hearts of these children of Miquon burned with pity for the red chief, and they offered him sweet water to quench his thirst, but even that was not permitted by these dogs of Canada.""Ugh! The children of the French Father are snakes and cowards. They are singing-birds which speak a lie," cried one of the warriors."The Algonquins are crows, who fly to their rookeries when they hear the scream of the eagle," cried another."Listen!" continued the chief. "The French are women, like the Delawares, and should wear petticoats. They offered gold and fire-water for the scalp of an Iroquois chief, but the caged eagle despised their threats, and while his captors slept, his proud spirit burst the bars, and his strong wings bore him aloft, back to the hunting-grounds of his fathers."Exclamations of pride and assent greeted these words, for the prowess and courage of their leader were recognised by all of them."When the White Eagle of his tribe gained his freedom once more, his heart went back to the Yengeese prisoners who had dared to show him a kindness, and he longed to see their faces again, for an Iroquois never forgets a kindness, though he quickly repays an insult, and now the Manitou has sent hither my paleface friends. They are brave, for they do not run even from my warriors. The white blood shall be washed from their veins, and when their wounds are healed they shall be adopted into my tribe, for the Great Spirit has said, that between the children of Miquon and the red man there shall be peace, and the hatchet shall be buried so deeply that none shall ever find it again."These remarkable words, uttered by the red chief, contained both wisdom and prophecy, though expressed in that flowery and boastful language which has always been a peculiarity of the North American savage.Quickly, then, medicinal herbs were brought from far and near to heal the boys' wounds, and all the knowledge and skill of the tribe were used to restore them to life and health. Fortunately their wounds were not serious, and soon they were able to sit up and to walk, and then they learnt how fortunate they had been. They thanked God in that moment for all His preserving care, and especially that they were led to do that simple act of kindness to the great chief aboard the frigate.In accordance with a peculiar Indian custom, water was then brought from the river, and the usual rites of adoption were performed. When the white blood had been washed away from their veins, the chief declared them to be his brothers and members of his tribe.They were provided with deer-skin shirts and leggings, embroidered with quills and fine bead work. Indian moccasins were placed upon their feet, and belts of wampum around their waists, while the feathers of a newly-killed hawk served as crests or head-gear. Except that their faces were a little paler than those of their companions, they might easily have been taken for young Indian braves, just entering upon their first war-path.Then it only remained to find Indian names for them, so they called Jamie "Red Feather," for when they found him his head and face were covered with blood, as he lay upon the ground, and so they dyed the hawk-feathers that served as his crest a deep crimson. And Jack they called the "Black Hawk," for they said, though his face was pale, his spirit was as fierce, and his eyes as keen, as the bird of prey whose plumes he bore. So they left his feathers black."So now we're both Iroquois braves, Black Hawk!" said Jamie, as soon as they were left together."Yes, and the brothers of White Eagle, too!" laughed his companion."Well, I suppose it's a great honour they've conferred upon us, so we must not grumble.""The greatest honour that an Indian can confer. And for a time I shouldn't mind it, at any rate, until we can make our escape to the settlements of Pennsylvania or Virginia, if it were not for those horrible, reeking trophies that our comrades carry at their girdles.""Ah! the scalps, you mean----""Yes. Do you know that I've counted no less than fifteen fresh scalps amongst them, every one of which was this morning rooted where God had placed it.""Horrible! What can we do?""Nothing!""Are we the only survivors?""Some of the Algonquins escaped, I think, and a few of the Frenchmen, who made for the forest, but none of those who entered the canoe, for there she is. She was captured and brought back again.""And Major Ridout?" asked Jamie. "What has become of him? Is he dead, too?""I fear so, but all the bodies have been dragged into the forest and hidden. I suppose the chief did that to save us a little pain, for he probably knows that we are unaccustomed to such a sight.""I'm glad to hear that, for it shows that he possesses a sense of decency and good feeling, although he's such a mighty redskin chief.""And 'tis certain that he remembers a kindness, too, however small," said Jack. "And it's my opinion that he's not at all a bad fellow, but as generous as he is brave. He remembered us at once, and we owe him our lives, and I intend to thank him when I get the chance.""We owe our lives also to the fact that we stood our ground, when the others ran away, for if we had taken either to the canoes or the forest the chief would probably not have come our way, and we should have been scalped by his braves.""So once more the path of duty has been the path of safety, as old Dr. Birch was so fond of saying.""The only pleasant feature, apart from our marvellous escape, that I can see, is that the Iroquois as a part of the Six Nations are allied with the English against the French in this war, and they speak of the English king as their Great Father across the water."During this time the Indians, who had not followed the fugitives into the forest, had been overhauling the three big canoes which belonged to the fur-traders, and examining their contents.They had made a great capture, for the canoes were deeply laden with provisions, arms, ammunition and trading goods. The first thing that White Eagle did was to pour out all the fire-water into the river, lest his men should drink it, for he knew what dire consequences would ensue to the whole band if that "devil in solution" were only permitted to pass their lips.That night they camped on the same clearing where the battle had been fought, but next morning at sunrise they took the captured canoes along with their own, and paddled rapidly up-stream towards Lake Ontario. The youths were both invited into the chief's canoe, and as their wounds were still painful, they took no part in the paddling, but remained sitting in the bottom of the canoe, or lying upon the skins which had belonged to Major Ridout.The chief and several of his men spoke a little broken English, and one spoke the Canadian patois, for he had been a prisoner amongst the Algonquin tribes for some time, so that they were able to converse a little during the day.Towards evening they reached the "Thousand Islands," where the St. Lawrence broadens out into a lake studded with a multitude of islets, just before it leaves Lake Ontario. Here the hand of the great Landscape Painter seems to have made the "beauty spot" of the world, and our heroes were charmed and even roused to a pitch of enthusiasm, as they passed one green, verdant, or pine-wooded island after another, while the setting sun, flinging its last ruddy beams upon the trees and the water, completed the enchanting picture."'Tis well to be a red man when the Great Manitou gives His children such hunting and fishing grounds as these," said Jamie to the chief, for he had been deeply stirred by the beauty that surrounded him."The Great Spirit loves His red children," said the chief solemnly. "He made for them the fish in the stream, and the deer in the forest; but He has forgotten them for a while, for they have displeased Him, and the children of the sun-rising have chased them from their hunting-grounds."Jamie made no reply, for he saw that the chief's heart was not a little sad, for they were approaching Fort Frontenac at the entrance of the lake, where the presence of the French behind their wooden palisades was a constant reminder to the Indians that even the graves and the hunting-grounds of their fathers were defiled by the presence of the paleface children of the Canadas.That night they camped on one of the islands, but long before daybreak they departed and stole swiftly but silently past the fort, and entered the broad waters of Lake Ontario. There was just a chance that some of the survivors had reached the fort and alarmed the soldiers, but all was quiet as they paddled quickly by. Count Frontenac, who established the fort, was a clever soldier, but even to this day his name is remembered with hatred by the Iroquois for his severity and cruelty.And now they were entering their own country, for the Iroquois claimed as their homeland all that great tract of country that lies south of Lake Ontario, from the Hudson River and Lake Champlain on the east, away to the ridges of the Blue Mountains behind Virginia and westward some little way beyond the Falls of Niagara, and the eastern shores of Lake Erie; but by right of conquest they claimed much more, for they had conquered all the surrounding tribes, from the river of Canada on the east, to the southern shores of Lake Michigan on the west, far away southwards to the Ohio Valley.At the present time, however, the wigwams and lodges of the White Eagle were pitched on the banks of a small stream that flowed through the forest to the south of the Great Falls.Though they still thought much of their late comrades, the youths had now become more cheerful, and their wounds had nearly healed, thanks to the kind attention of the Indians. They had even begun to admire these fierce Iroquois who had adopted them. They were not nearly so bad as they were described by the French. They were lords of nature, these children of the forest, and had desired nothing more than to be left alone in their happy hunting-grounds. It was the paleface who had been the intruder and the plunderer. At first the red men had welcomed the palefaces, and received them as brothers, but the baser types of the settlers, the outcasts and pariahs of the settlements, and especially the hated "Rum-carriers," had taken advantage of, and had traded upon, the childishness, the ignorance and the simplicity of the Indians, with the result that outrage, vengeance and border wars had been the result. The insults of Champlain were never forgotten by the Iroquois. On the other hand the compact made between Miquon (William Penn) and the Indians was never broken by the Delawares, till the white men broke it themselves.Several times during their progress along the shores of the lake smoke had been perceived, rising above the tree-tops in the forest. The keen eyes of the chief, who was in the first canoe, never relaxed their vigilance for a moment, for though they were almost in their own country, yet at any hour they might be set upon by a marauding band of French Indians, who were out for scalps.Each evening they would draw in to the bank, set a watch, by posting scouts some little way into the forest, then, lighting a fire, they would cook their evening meal. Oftentimes this would consist of a fine buck that had been killed during the day, as they coasted along by the edge of the forest-lined bank, or sometimes of the sturgeon and salmon taken from the lake.The lads noticed that several times, when smoke had been observed, that the chief ordered the boats to make a wide detour, as though to avoid a possible enemy. At other times the boats would pass close in as though there were no danger. Jamie was determined to find out the reason of this, so the next time that he saw a faint column of blue smoke he remarked to the chief--"Look, White Eagle! There's more smoke ahead!"But the chief, who had seen it long before, merely remarked--"Iroquois smoke!"How he could tell the difference between one smoke and another the lads could never make out, for he seemed unable to explain it to them; but that he did know, and could often tell something of the people who fed the fire by the tell-tale column of smoke, they never doubted.Once, as the White Eagle looked long and keenly at a very faint column of blue smoke, about half-a-mile inland, Jamie thought that for an instant he could trace a somewhat puzzled and anxious look clouding the face of the chief; but it passed as quickly as it came, and the faintest promise of a smile spread over his countenance, as though the smoke recalled pleasant memories."Is that Iroquois smoke, too, chief?" he asked."No Iroquois smoke this time," he replied"Can it be an enemy, then?""No enemy.""Then who can he be who has lit that fire?""Paleface!" ejaculated the chief.CHAPTER XA LONELY FRONTIERSMAN"Paleface?" exclaimed the lads, standing up in the canoe, and straining their eyes as if to catch a glimpse of that mysterious stranger who was hidden in the depth of the forest."Aren't you afraid that we may be attacked?""Ugh!" replied the warrior, without moving a muscle of his dark face, or showing the slightest trace of alarm. "Him--great paleface hunter. Friend of the Iroquois. Smoke peace-pipe with the White Eagle."As they paddled quickly past the spot Jamie turned again and again to look at that faint column of receding smoke, now growing fainter and fainter."Who can this paleface hunter be, so far away from his home and friends, dwelling alone in these dark forests? Perhaps he is an exile from his country!" murmured the lad to himself. Then a strange yearning came over him. He longed to go ashore, that he might join this lonely frontiersman, and share his hardships and his perils, but he hesitated to suggest it to the chief, whose face now bore such a stolid, mask-like look. And soon the long, swift strokes of the paddles bore them past the spot.There must be something in nature--though perfectly inexplicable to us, who know so little of the unseen verities--that transmits through the ether that surrounds us, feelings of sympathy and love to kindred souls, just as in these later days of our civilisation the wireless message is flung from ship to ship and coast to coast. For the fact remains, that just at this moment the sturdy paleface hunter, as he stooped to place more pine-wood on his blazing fire, felt at his very heart a twinge of pain, so that for an instant his eyes were blurred, and he saw no longer the blazing fire, the dark forest, or the pile of beaver skins that his skilful hands had taken, for another vision rose before his face.'Twas the vision of an old-world village, in a sweet little island that rose out of the main, far-off; and to him 'twas "Home, sweet home" still, though his feet must never tread that land again, for he was an exile, a victim to the cruel game-laws, that had banished him from his country. Here, 'twas true, the whole forest was his, with all it contained. The beaver, the otter, the fish in the streams, and even the red-spotted deer were his for the taking; but still his heart stole back again to that forbidden land."Oh, that I might drop a tear and plant a flower on thy grave, Lisbeth! Thou wert all the world to me--a true wife and a friend. And the bairn? Oh, my God! the bairn! Where is he?"And here this strong man, hardened by nature to all the toils and dangers of the forest, the rapids, the wild beasts, and the scalping parties of red foes, broke down in an agony of tears and wept, for he thought of his little blue-eyed laddie of two years; the poor motherless bairn, as he had last seen him, with his flaxen curls nestling in his arms.How often he had longed to go home and find his boy, to find even if he were yet alive; but the thought came to him each time--"How have they taught the lad to regard his father? Perhaps they have told him that I am dead! Well, maybe 'tis better so! Or perhaps they have said, 'He is an exile in a far-off land, and he will return no more, for in the eyes of the law he is a criminal.' Then so it must remain, lest the father's curse should blight the lad; but what would I not give to see my child again after all these years."Then he flung himself down upon a pile of skins and wept again. That night sleep fled from his eyelids, as it had often done before when these longings for the homeland had come over him, but never, never before had his agony been so great. He prayed his God for something he had never dared to ask before. It was that he might be permitted, before he died, to look upon the face of his child again, even though the lad should not know him. And his prayer was answered, for an angel from the stars above came down and kissed him, as he lay beneath the silent pines, and whispered--"It shall be!"And he slept, for his cares had fled, and a deep peace had filled his soul.Such were thy sons, oh, England! Their bold, proud spirits chafed and were cramped within thy narrow limits, and narrower laws, made by and for the selfish few, in days, happily, long past. And yet they loved their native land, though exiled from hearth and home; and when duty called, they lined thy distant frontiers; they held thy far-flung borders, and were content to leave their bones to bleach beside some lonely outpost of the Empire they helped to build. But let us for a while leave this lonely frontiersman, and return to our friends and their Iroquois companions.Four days had been spent in navigating Lake Ontario, and they were now approaching Niagara, below whose thunderous rapids stood the French fort that guarded both the river and the lakes.Towards evening on the fourth day a distant speck was seen approaching from the westward, and the White Eagle, standing in the bow of the foremost canoe, as he gazed into the face of the setting sun, permitted a sudden cry of surprise to escape from his lips--"Algonquins!"'Twas only too true, for there, rapidly approaching and hugging the southern shore of the lake, was a large party of their hated foes, in their big canoes of elm-bark.The discovery appeared to be mutual, for both parties rent the air with their respective war-cries, and hastened ashore to make ready for the coming battle. Darkness soon settled over forest and lake, but all through the night the woods resounded with the dreadful war-whoops of the Indians, as they chanted their war-songs, and worked themselves into a frenzy of fury.What a night that was for the two young paleface warriors! The war fever of the Iroquois had in a measure entered into their blood, for they saw in the Algonquins the allies of France and the enemies of England, so they prepared to defend themselves in the morning.Day dawned at last, and White Eagle and his braves pressed forward to battle; not shoulder to shoulder, nor in unresisting phalanx, as the soldiers of the palefaces fought, but in true Indian fashion the dark-skinned warriors leapt from tree to tree, and cover to cover. Showers of arrows and bullets rattled amongst the trees and rocks, and the wild yells became every moment fiercer and fiercer. Several warriors had fallen on each side, and a dozen scalps had been taken, as the frequent yells of triumph announced.Deeds of desperate valour were recklessly performed. Homeric contests, ending in frightful wounds or instant death were frequently engaged in, when suddenly, from behind the cover of a huge elm-tree, the Algonquin chief, his plume of black raven feathers nodding with his frenzied action, rushed into the open and challenged the Iroquois leader to single combat.With a yell of delight White Eagle bounded into the clearing, and accepted the offer. Then, instantly, as if by instinct, every weapon was lowered, and the non-combatants ranged themselves on either side, in a rude semicircle, with a rising back-ground of tall pines and elms, to watch this gladiatorial contest, which threatened to be both brief and sanguinary.Then followed a pause, during which the two chiefs addressed each other in the figurative but boastful braggadocia, in the use of which the red men excelled all the other nations of the world. The Algonquin chief, whose name was "Black Raven," began as follows--"Mingo dog! where are the scalps of the Iroquois warriors who came to the Canada River? Ten of them have not returned to their tribe, since the snows melted. My children went to the lodges of the Maquas and the Oneidas, but they found only squaws and children. The scalps of the Iroquois are in the wigwams of the Canadas, and the Canada Father has rewarded his children with many hatchets, and powder to burn in the face of their enemies, because they have cleared the snakes from the woods! The moccasins of the Iroquois cannot be found in the forest. They have been driven from the hunting-grounds of their fathers, never, never to return----!""Skunk of the Algonquins!" retorted the Iroquois, "your tongue is forked, like the serpent that hides its head in the grass, and your arm is feeble as the squaw of the Delaware. The singing-birds have called your young men from their Canada lodges, so that my warriors may take their scalps, for before the sun is amongst the pines, your warriors will have followed him into the hunting-grounds of the Great Spirit.""Iroquois muskrat! Your tongue is sharper than your knife!""Hark! What is that sound that I hear? 'Tis the wailing of the squaws in your Canada lodges, because their young men return no more.""Iroquois snake! Skulking fox!" retorted the Algonquin. "'Tis to you that the singing-birds have spoken, but they have spoken falsely. Slaves of the Yengeese! Never more will your war-whoop be heard in the woods; never more will you fish the streams and hunt the deer, for before the sun shall rise the girdles of my young men will be heavy with your scalps. 'Tis the Mingoes who are women, like the Delawares. They killed my young men when the face of the Manitou was turned away from His children in anger, but now the Great Spirit has delivered you into our hands, and nevermore shall your squaws behold you.""Dogs of the Canadas! The Iroquois are free and strong as the eagle that soars to the clouds, but the Algonquins are skunks and muskrats. They are slaves to the Canada palefaces. Go hunt the deer and the moose for your French Father, and when, for your portion, he throws you the offals--be grateful."The tomahawk of the French Indian whirled in the air, as, stung by this biting insult to his tribe, he hurled it at his enemy, and so true was the aim that it only missed the scalp of the Iroquois by an inch, for it carried away half his plume of eagle feathers.A loud cry of vengeance arose from his warriors as this deadly missile whizzed past their leader.The next instant the wild scream of an eagle, which was the peculiar war-cry of this renowned chief, rang through the glades and across the lake as the leaders closed in deadly combat. Like the leap of the panther, when robbed of its young, was the fierce onset of the Iroquois chief. Fifty gleaming knives were snatched from their sheaths, and held aloft; but before the warriors on either side could reach the spot, the tomahawk of the White Eagle had stretched his opponent upon the ground, and with keen knife he had already snatched away the trophy that honour demanded.Then, amid war-whoops and wild yells of savage fury, the fierce passions of the warriors became undammed, and a short but sanguinary conflict occurred. The Algonquins, despite the loss of their leader, fought bravely for a while, but were at length overwhelmed by the relentless fury of the Iroquois. Then they quickly broke and scattered through the forest, pursued by their enemy.Thus ended another of those fierce fights, so common amongst the Indians tribes in the middle of the eighteenth century, while all the time the armies of the two paleface nations from towards the sun-rising were preparing for that final death grapple, which was to settle for ever the destiny of the northern half of that mighty continent; and to drive the scattered tribes of the children of the Manitou ever westward towards the setting sun.In this brief fight the youths had remained little more than passive spectators, for they soon saw how the conflict must end, and that without their help the Iroquois, although outnumbered, would secure the victory."I do wish, Jack, that our allies would desist from that barbarous practice of taking scalps. See there! a dozen scalps already hang at the girdles of our comrades, and even yet they are not satisfied, but must pursue their wretched victims into the woods. Bah! My heart sickens at the sight!""'Tis Indian nature, Jamie. Victory brings them no honour unless the victim's scalp be taken. Even the squaws look askance at the warrior who returns from the war-path without these hideous trophies hanging at his belt.""There seems little honour to me in mangling the corpse of a fallen victim.""Why, the youth is scarcely regarded as a man till he has brought home his first scalp. Their belief is, that the spirit and strength of the dead man enters into the victorious brave, and, horrible as it is, and God knows how I hate it all, 'tis not more horrible than the deeds of some of the paleface pirates in the Southern Seas, who sometimes treat their unfortunate victims in a cruel and barbarous manner."They had been leaning on their rifles, on a little rising ground near the lake, watching the fight and the pursuit, when suddenly from out the dark aisles of the forest there came the piercing scream of the eagle once more."What can be the matter now? Surely the enemy are not returning, reinforced!" cried Red Feather, quickly bringing his rifle to the ready."No. 'Tis the signal for the return of the braves; evidently White Eagle scents a new danger, and is anxious to get away.""What new danger can there be?""Why, don't you see that the Algonquins have taken the route that will lead them to the French fort at Niagara, where almost every soldier will turn out to their assistance, when they hear that the renowned White Eagle is within twenty miles of the fort? At least, I assume that is the cause; but look! Here comes the chief himself, and he is making for the canoes. Let us speak with him."CHAPTER XITHE SMOKE-SIGNAL"What is the matter, chief?" asked Jack. "What new danger has my red brother discovered?""Look!" replied White Eagle, pointing in the direction of the fort and along the shore of the lake. "What does my paleface brother see yonder?"Jack strained his eyes in the direction indicated, but for some seconds even his keen eyes did not notice anything unusual. At length, however, he perceived a thin column of smoke far away in the distance, rising above the forest and lake; then a second and a third column, but so faint as to be nearly indistinguishable."I see the smoke from the camp-fires of a party of hunters, perhaps Yengeese trappers, but nothing that threatens danger."The sachem shook his head sagely, as he replied--"No Yengeese! It is Algonquin smoke. A signal to the paleface warriors at the fort, who will hurry to burn their powder in the face of White Eagle. Too much price on Iroquois scalp!" And here the chief's face relaxed into the faintest of smiles, as though he appreciated the value that was placed upon his head by the French, and considered it a great honour and a tribute to his prowess and the impotence of his enemies.Then for an instant his face became clouded and a momentary wave of irresolution passed over his countenance. To escape the net that was being drawn around him was comparatively easy, but to convey all the plunder of the expedition safely to the lodges of the Iroquois was another matter. His resolution, however, was quickly taken. They were now within ten miles of the mouth of a stream, called "Twelve Mile Creek," that entered the forest south of Lake Ontario, and only a dozen miles from the fort. To gain that creek, to take the loaded canoes up the stream against the rapids and rifts, and then to make a portage of four miles to gain the Niagara River above the fort, was the daring resolve of the White Eagle.It was a piece of daring that was worthy of an Iroquois chief, who had already secured a reputation for reckless daring that was second to that of no other chief amongst the Six Nations. The great danger lay in the fact that at one bend in the stream they would be within seven or eight miles of the fort, with all the possibilities of being ambushed by their hated foes and also by the Frenchers.The whole party now took to the canoes, and proceeded as rapidly and as silently as possible along the shore in a westerly direction. Soon after mid-day they reached the mouth of the creek, and without a moment's delay, except to land a couple of scouts on either bank, they paddled as quickly as possible up the narrow stream, while the scouts went ahead to explore the forest-lined banks and to give the alarm as soon as they should discover the slightest sign of the enemy, who could not now be far away. To these eager warriors their progress seemed to be painfully slow. Fallen trees sometimes blocked their way. At other times the canoes had to be dragged through the shallows and lifted over rocks.It was hard work, but the youths bore their share of all this arduous toil. It was exciting, too, for at any moment they might hear the crack of the Algonquin and French rifles. Sometimes they were up to their knees in the water, pushing and lifting the canoes forward.As they advanced further and further up the watercourse, for it could hardly be called a river, the creek narrowed and the trees overhung and interlaced, shutting out the sun, so that, though it was little past mid-day, it was scarcely more than twilight. Not a word was spoken for a while, and except for the music of the stream the forest was as silent as death. Even the birds had ceased to sing, and the little squirrels watched them furtively from the branches overhead, wondering what strange creatures these were who were toiling so arduously at the canoes.Not a signal had come as yet from the scouts, on whom they were implicitly relying. They were getting perilously near to that fatal bend in the river where if an ambush was in hiding, it was sure to be. The Indians exchanged suspicious glances. They fingered their knives and tomahawks uneasily and frequently looked to the priming of their rifles."What is that noise I can hear, rising and falling, very faintly, like the water of the Big Salt Lake in a storm, when the Manitou is angry?" asked Jack of one of the Iroquois braves, who was called the Panther."'Tis the Spirit of the Wacondah in the caverns under the Great Falls!" answered the Indian in low and reverent tones."Niagara!" whispered Jack to his comrade, "and only a few miles away.""Yes. The Iroquois believe that the Great Spirit, the God of Thunder, dwells under the Falls, and they speak of him always in a whisper, even by their firesides far away.""Hist! What was that?"The crackle of a twig was heard on the western bank, and the eye of every Indian was instantly turned in that direction, while many a hand instinctively grasped its weapon more tightly. The bushes parted, and an Iroquois scout came forth from the cover of the forest and sought the eye of his chief. Evidently he had something of importance to communicate.White Eagle left the batteaux and approached him. Then a few guttural exclamations passed between them, and the scout disappeared once more as quietly as he had come."Did you hear what he said, Panther?""Yes. The Algonquins, with whom we fought early this morning, have fallen in with another party under Le Grand Loup, a renowned chief, who is White Eagle's greatest enemy, and they have laid an ambush for us two miles further up the stream. In addition, help is expected from the fort within an hour," replied the brave."Snakes alive! What will the chief do?""Ugh! White Eagle no afraid. The Wacondah fights for him."The scouts had done their work bravely and well. They had soon discovered the prints of Algonquin moccasins in the woods. Some they found had led towards the bend in the river where the ambush had been laid. They had even penetrated to this spot, past the enemy's scouts, and had learnt of the juncture of the two parties. They had also discovered the trail of an Indian runner in the direction of the fort, and had heard the drums of the French calling the men to arms."What's to be done, Jack? We're scarcely out of one fix before we're in another.""It seems so!" said that worthy. "I don't know what the Eagle will do, but something will have to be done, and quickly, if we're to retain our scalp-locks.""Look! What is the chief about? The men are dragging the canoes ashore and piling the brushwood around them.""Why, he's going to burn them to prevent them falling into the hands of the enemy. 'Tis certain that we shall never get them past the next bend; so, after all, our labour has been in vain."Jack's surmise was correct. Without a moment's hesitation, as soon as the scout had departed, the sachem ordered the boats to be so placed that at a given signal they could be immediately fired by a small party who were to be left in charge. The rest were to follow him and take the enemy unawares in the rear before the French could arrive to their support.This plan was put into operation without a moment's delay, and leaving a small party of four in charge of the canoes, the rest entered the forest and moved quickly in the direction of the enemy. As they were likely to encounter the French, the lads decided to accompany the attacking party. They had not proceeded far when the scout met them who had reported the presence of the enemy."The paleface warriors are half-way from the fort. What will White Eagle do? They will be here before the sun is below the top-most branches of the pines," said the scout, addressing the chief."Ugh! Ugh!" merely remarked the Iroquois; then turning towards the two paleface warriors who accompanied him, he said--"My brothers, Black Hawk and Red Feather, are great warriors from the land of Wabun. Can they delay the rifles of the French Father for one hour till they hear the scream of the Eagle, while my warriors take the scalps of the Algonquin dogs, who lie in wait like the serpent in the grass?""Give us but a dozen rifles, chief, and we'll hold them back for a day!" exclaimed Jack."Ugh! My brother will be a great chief before the snows have settled upon his head. Let him chose a dozen rifles from amongst my braves, and they shall accompany the paleface chiefs and follow their orders."A dozen men were quickly chosen, including the scout and the Panther, and they at once started out, led by the scout through the forest in the direction whence the French must soon come.Half-a-mile further on they selected a spot where they could await with advantage the arrival of the soldiers from the fort."Here! This spot will do! They will soon be here. Let us make ready," said Jamie. The Indians were soon under cover on either side of the rough track which led to the fort.They could now hear plainly the drums of the advancing army. Soon they caught a glimpse of the white uniforms of the French through the vista of trees."There are over a hundred of them, Jamie! Can we hold them back for an hour?""We promised the chief that we would, and we must keep our promise," said Jamie, whose lips were compressed and whose brows were knit, as he narrowly watched the approaching French.The drums were silent now as the foe, with shouldered rifles and martial equipment, marched boldly forward, threading their circuitous route through the forest glades. Careless of any ambush, they came forward singing and laughing, to show how much they despised the savage horde they were expecting shortly to encounter.Suddenly the sound of distant firing burst upon them. Mingled with the shots were savage yells and whoops, which showed that the Iroquois had attacked the party at the bend of the river. Louder and louder became the din."Avancez, mes camarades! Allez vite donc! Il y a ces diables Iroquois!"At this command the French advanced more quickly, lest the fighting should be all over before they arrived, and the drums beat out again bravely. Their whole attention was engrossed by the distant firing, and they knew not that already the head of their column was entering an ambush, and that fourteen rifles were levelled at their leading files."Fire!" shouted Jack, and a deadly hail of bullets followed a blinding flash and a report that echoed through the forest. Taken thus suddenly by surprise, the head of the column staggered and wavered. Many a man fell to rise no more. A panic seized the whole party, and for a few moments it seemed doubtful whether their officers would succeed in rallying them, so susceptible even are the bravest troops to sudden fright when unexpectedly ambushed by an unseen foe.A second volley was poured in upon the confused mass, and a scene of indescribable terror prevailed. Hoarse shouts of command were heard. The cries of the wounded and the wild yells of the Iroquois resounded through the woods.The second fire revealed the position of the Iroquois as well as the paucity of their numbers, and the French commander shouted out--"A moi, camarades! Suivez-moi! Voilà l'ennemi!" and waving his sword he dashed towards the revealed ambush followed by half his troops with fixed bayonets.Like chaff before the wind the Indians scattered and sought cover in the deeper shades of the forest, leaping from tree to tree, and bush to bush, firing upon the foe, who were compelled to deploy and enter the thicket in single file. This was Indian warfare with a vengeance, for neither party came into the open. For an hour this was kept up, and the French, who could never come to grips with the wily foe, who always retreated like a phantom before their bayonets, were compelled to retire, for their leader had at length come to see that the whole aim of the enemy was merely to delay their approach to the Algonquins.Suddenly, from a distance, the scream of the Eagle was heard twice in rapid succession."Our work is done now, Jamie! Let's give the French a final salute and depart."A parting volley was let loose upon the enemy, and then the two paleface chiefs led back their band quickly, and rejoined the victorious warriors of the Iroquois chief, who had driven the Algonquins across the river with great slaughter. Only two were wounded, and none were missing, as Jack looked at his dusky warriors, but of the French quite twenty had been killed and wounded.
CHAPTER IX
THE WHITE EAGLE OF THE IROQUOIS
The Indian who had raised his scalping-knife drew back, and a plumed and painted chieftain stepped forward. It was none other than the renowned "White Eagle"--the greatest chief amongst the Six Nations. The same daring and unconquered spirit who had made his escape from the frigate, as she lay anchored in the river below Quebec.
"Stay! Let me see the young palefaces, who do not run like the hares," he commanded.
As he bent over the prostrate youths, he was unable to restrain a slight, involuntary start. A sudden gleam of remembrance flashed across his countenance, and chased away for an instant the ferocity of the savage. He recognised in them the young prisoners who, aboard theSapphire, had dared to offer him a drink of water at the risk of losing their own promised liberty.
Then, in a loud voice which all could hear, he uttered those words, which caused Jack to open his eyes for an instant--
"Stay! He is the paleface brother of the White Eagle."
The braves quickly gathered around him, for they were all astounded at these words; but he continued--
"These are not the children of the Canadas. They are the friends of the red man, and the children of the Yengeese. They come from the land of the sun-rising. They were prisoners with White Eagle, in the big canoe with wings, in the river of Canada, and when the children of the French king treated the Eagle as the squaw of a Delaware, and even offered him the bitter salt water to drink, the hearts of these children of Miquon burned with pity for the red chief, and they offered him sweet water to quench his thirst, but even that was not permitted by these dogs of Canada."
"Ugh! The children of the French Father are snakes and cowards. They are singing-birds which speak a lie," cried one of the warriors.
"The Algonquins are crows, who fly to their rookeries when they hear the scream of the eagle," cried another.
"Listen!" continued the chief. "The French are women, like the Delawares, and should wear petticoats. They offered gold and fire-water for the scalp of an Iroquois chief, but the caged eagle despised their threats, and while his captors slept, his proud spirit burst the bars, and his strong wings bore him aloft, back to the hunting-grounds of his fathers."
Exclamations of pride and assent greeted these words, for the prowess and courage of their leader were recognised by all of them.
"When the White Eagle of his tribe gained his freedom once more, his heart went back to the Yengeese prisoners who had dared to show him a kindness, and he longed to see their faces again, for an Iroquois never forgets a kindness, though he quickly repays an insult, and now the Manitou has sent hither my paleface friends. They are brave, for they do not run even from my warriors. The white blood shall be washed from their veins, and when their wounds are healed they shall be adopted into my tribe, for the Great Spirit has said, that between the children of Miquon and the red man there shall be peace, and the hatchet shall be buried so deeply that none shall ever find it again."
These remarkable words, uttered by the red chief, contained both wisdom and prophecy, though expressed in that flowery and boastful language which has always been a peculiarity of the North American savage.
Quickly, then, medicinal herbs were brought from far and near to heal the boys' wounds, and all the knowledge and skill of the tribe were used to restore them to life and health. Fortunately their wounds were not serious, and soon they were able to sit up and to walk, and then they learnt how fortunate they had been. They thanked God in that moment for all His preserving care, and especially that they were led to do that simple act of kindness to the great chief aboard the frigate.
In accordance with a peculiar Indian custom, water was then brought from the river, and the usual rites of adoption were performed. When the white blood had been washed away from their veins, the chief declared them to be his brothers and members of his tribe.
They were provided with deer-skin shirts and leggings, embroidered with quills and fine bead work. Indian moccasins were placed upon their feet, and belts of wampum around their waists, while the feathers of a newly-killed hawk served as crests or head-gear. Except that their faces were a little paler than those of their companions, they might easily have been taken for young Indian braves, just entering upon their first war-path.
Then it only remained to find Indian names for them, so they called Jamie "Red Feather," for when they found him his head and face were covered with blood, as he lay upon the ground, and so they dyed the hawk-feathers that served as his crest a deep crimson. And Jack they called the "Black Hawk," for they said, though his face was pale, his spirit was as fierce, and his eyes as keen, as the bird of prey whose plumes he bore. So they left his feathers black.
"So now we're both Iroquois braves, Black Hawk!" said Jamie, as soon as they were left together.
"Yes, and the brothers of White Eagle, too!" laughed his companion.
"Well, I suppose it's a great honour they've conferred upon us, so we must not grumble."
"The greatest honour that an Indian can confer. And for a time I shouldn't mind it, at any rate, until we can make our escape to the settlements of Pennsylvania or Virginia, if it were not for those horrible, reeking trophies that our comrades carry at their girdles."
"Ah! the scalps, you mean----"
"Yes. Do you know that I've counted no less than fifteen fresh scalps amongst them, every one of which was this morning rooted where God had placed it."
"Horrible! What can we do?"
"Nothing!"
"Are we the only survivors?"
"Some of the Algonquins escaped, I think, and a few of the Frenchmen, who made for the forest, but none of those who entered the canoe, for there she is. She was captured and brought back again."
"And Major Ridout?" asked Jamie. "What has become of him? Is he dead, too?"
"I fear so, but all the bodies have been dragged into the forest and hidden. I suppose the chief did that to save us a little pain, for he probably knows that we are unaccustomed to such a sight."
"I'm glad to hear that, for it shows that he possesses a sense of decency and good feeling, although he's such a mighty redskin chief."
"And 'tis certain that he remembers a kindness, too, however small," said Jack. "And it's my opinion that he's not at all a bad fellow, but as generous as he is brave. He remembered us at once, and we owe him our lives, and I intend to thank him when I get the chance."
"We owe our lives also to the fact that we stood our ground, when the others ran away, for if we had taken either to the canoes or the forest the chief would probably not have come our way, and we should have been scalped by his braves."
"So once more the path of duty has been the path of safety, as old Dr. Birch was so fond of saying."
"The only pleasant feature, apart from our marvellous escape, that I can see, is that the Iroquois as a part of the Six Nations are allied with the English against the French in this war, and they speak of the English king as their Great Father across the water."
During this time the Indians, who had not followed the fugitives into the forest, had been overhauling the three big canoes which belonged to the fur-traders, and examining their contents.
They had made a great capture, for the canoes were deeply laden with provisions, arms, ammunition and trading goods. The first thing that White Eagle did was to pour out all the fire-water into the river, lest his men should drink it, for he knew what dire consequences would ensue to the whole band if that "devil in solution" were only permitted to pass their lips.
That night they camped on the same clearing where the battle had been fought, but next morning at sunrise they took the captured canoes along with their own, and paddled rapidly up-stream towards Lake Ontario. The youths were both invited into the chief's canoe, and as their wounds were still painful, they took no part in the paddling, but remained sitting in the bottom of the canoe, or lying upon the skins which had belonged to Major Ridout.
The chief and several of his men spoke a little broken English, and one spoke the Canadian patois, for he had been a prisoner amongst the Algonquin tribes for some time, so that they were able to converse a little during the day.
Towards evening they reached the "Thousand Islands," where the St. Lawrence broadens out into a lake studded with a multitude of islets, just before it leaves Lake Ontario. Here the hand of the great Landscape Painter seems to have made the "beauty spot" of the world, and our heroes were charmed and even roused to a pitch of enthusiasm, as they passed one green, verdant, or pine-wooded island after another, while the setting sun, flinging its last ruddy beams upon the trees and the water, completed the enchanting picture.
"'Tis well to be a red man when the Great Manitou gives His children such hunting and fishing grounds as these," said Jamie to the chief, for he had been deeply stirred by the beauty that surrounded him.
"The Great Spirit loves His red children," said the chief solemnly. "He made for them the fish in the stream, and the deer in the forest; but He has forgotten them for a while, for they have displeased Him, and the children of the sun-rising have chased them from their hunting-grounds."
Jamie made no reply, for he saw that the chief's heart was not a little sad, for they were approaching Fort Frontenac at the entrance of the lake, where the presence of the French behind their wooden palisades was a constant reminder to the Indians that even the graves and the hunting-grounds of their fathers were defiled by the presence of the paleface children of the Canadas.
That night they camped on one of the islands, but long before daybreak they departed and stole swiftly but silently past the fort, and entered the broad waters of Lake Ontario. There was just a chance that some of the survivors had reached the fort and alarmed the soldiers, but all was quiet as they paddled quickly by. Count Frontenac, who established the fort, was a clever soldier, but even to this day his name is remembered with hatred by the Iroquois for his severity and cruelty.
And now they were entering their own country, for the Iroquois claimed as their homeland all that great tract of country that lies south of Lake Ontario, from the Hudson River and Lake Champlain on the east, away to the ridges of the Blue Mountains behind Virginia and westward some little way beyond the Falls of Niagara, and the eastern shores of Lake Erie; but by right of conquest they claimed much more, for they had conquered all the surrounding tribes, from the river of Canada on the east, to the southern shores of Lake Michigan on the west, far away southwards to the Ohio Valley.
At the present time, however, the wigwams and lodges of the White Eagle were pitched on the banks of a small stream that flowed through the forest to the south of the Great Falls.
Though they still thought much of their late comrades, the youths had now become more cheerful, and their wounds had nearly healed, thanks to the kind attention of the Indians. They had even begun to admire these fierce Iroquois who had adopted them. They were not nearly so bad as they were described by the French. They were lords of nature, these children of the forest, and had desired nothing more than to be left alone in their happy hunting-grounds. It was the paleface who had been the intruder and the plunderer. At first the red men had welcomed the palefaces, and received them as brothers, but the baser types of the settlers, the outcasts and pariahs of the settlements, and especially the hated "Rum-carriers," had taken advantage of, and had traded upon, the childishness, the ignorance and the simplicity of the Indians, with the result that outrage, vengeance and border wars had been the result. The insults of Champlain were never forgotten by the Iroquois. On the other hand the compact made between Miquon (William Penn) and the Indians was never broken by the Delawares, till the white men broke it themselves.
Several times during their progress along the shores of the lake smoke had been perceived, rising above the tree-tops in the forest. The keen eyes of the chief, who was in the first canoe, never relaxed their vigilance for a moment, for though they were almost in their own country, yet at any hour they might be set upon by a marauding band of French Indians, who were out for scalps.
Each evening they would draw in to the bank, set a watch, by posting scouts some little way into the forest, then, lighting a fire, they would cook their evening meal. Oftentimes this would consist of a fine buck that had been killed during the day, as they coasted along by the edge of the forest-lined bank, or sometimes of the sturgeon and salmon taken from the lake.
The lads noticed that several times, when smoke had been observed, that the chief ordered the boats to make a wide detour, as though to avoid a possible enemy. At other times the boats would pass close in as though there were no danger. Jamie was determined to find out the reason of this, so the next time that he saw a faint column of blue smoke he remarked to the chief--
"Look, White Eagle! There's more smoke ahead!"
But the chief, who had seen it long before, merely remarked--
"Iroquois smoke!"
How he could tell the difference between one smoke and another the lads could never make out, for he seemed unable to explain it to them; but that he did know, and could often tell something of the people who fed the fire by the tell-tale column of smoke, they never doubted.
Once, as the White Eagle looked long and keenly at a very faint column of blue smoke, about half-a-mile inland, Jamie thought that for an instant he could trace a somewhat puzzled and anxious look clouding the face of the chief; but it passed as quickly as it came, and the faintest promise of a smile spread over his countenance, as though the smoke recalled pleasant memories.
"Is that Iroquois smoke, too, chief?" he asked.
"No Iroquois smoke this time," he replied
"Can it be an enemy, then?"
"No enemy."
"Then who can he be who has lit that fire?"
"Paleface!" ejaculated the chief.
CHAPTER X
A LONELY FRONTIERSMAN
"Paleface?" exclaimed the lads, standing up in the canoe, and straining their eyes as if to catch a glimpse of that mysterious stranger who was hidden in the depth of the forest.
"Aren't you afraid that we may be attacked?"
"Ugh!" replied the warrior, without moving a muscle of his dark face, or showing the slightest trace of alarm. "Him--great paleface hunter. Friend of the Iroquois. Smoke peace-pipe with the White Eagle."
As they paddled quickly past the spot Jamie turned again and again to look at that faint column of receding smoke, now growing fainter and fainter.
"Who can this paleface hunter be, so far away from his home and friends, dwelling alone in these dark forests? Perhaps he is an exile from his country!" murmured the lad to himself. Then a strange yearning came over him. He longed to go ashore, that he might join this lonely frontiersman, and share his hardships and his perils, but he hesitated to suggest it to the chief, whose face now bore such a stolid, mask-like look. And soon the long, swift strokes of the paddles bore them past the spot.
There must be something in nature--though perfectly inexplicable to us, who know so little of the unseen verities--that transmits through the ether that surrounds us, feelings of sympathy and love to kindred souls, just as in these later days of our civilisation the wireless message is flung from ship to ship and coast to coast. For the fact remains, that just at this moment the sturdy paleface hunter, as he stooped to place more pine-wood on his blazing fire, felt at his very heart a twinge of pain, so that for an instant his eyes were blurred, and he saw no longer the blazing fire, the dark forest, or the pile of beaver skins that his skilful hands had taken, for another vision rose before his face.
'Twas the vision of an old-world village, in a sweet little island that rose out of the main, far-off; and to him 'twas "Home, sweet home" still, though his feet must never tread that land again, for he was an exile, a victim to the cruel game-laws, that had banished him from his country. Here, 'twas true, the whole forest was his, with all it contained. The beaver, the otter, the fish in the streams, and even the red-spotted deer were his for the taking; but still his heart stole back again to that forbidden land.
"Oh, that I might drop a tear and plant a flower on thy grave, Lisbeth! Thou wert all the world to me--a true wife and a friend. And the bairn? Oh, my God! the bairn! Where is he?"
And here this strong man, hardened by nature to all the toils and dangers of the forest, the rapids, the wild beasts, and the scalping parties of red foes, broke down in an agony of tears and wept, for he thought of his little blue-eyed laddie of two years; the poor motherless bairn, as he had last seen him, with his flaxen curls nestling in his arms.
How often he had longed to go home and find his boy, to find even if he were yet alive; but the thought came to him each time--
"How have they taught the lad to regard his father? Perhaps they have told him that I am dead! Well, maybe 'tis better so! Or perhaps they have said, 'He is an exile in a far-off land, and he will return no more, for in the eyes of the law he is a criminal.' Then so it must remain, lest the father's curse should blight the lad; but what would I not give to see my child again after all these years."
Then he flung himself down upon a pile of skins and wept again. That night sleep fled from his eyelids, as it had often done before when these longings for the homeland had come over him, but never, never before had his agony been so great. He prayed his God for something he had never dared to ask before. It was that he might be permitted, before he died, to look upon the face of his child again, even though the lad should not know him. And his prayer was answered, for an angel from the stars above came down and kissed him, as he lay beneath the silent pines, and whispered--
"It shall be!"
And he slept, for his cares had fled, and a deep peace had filled his soul.
Such were thy sons, oh, England! Their bold, proud spirits chafed and were cramped within thy narrow limits, and narrower laws, made by and for the selfish few, in days, happily, long past. And yet they loved their native land, though exiled from hearth and home; and when duty called, they lined thy distant frontiers; they held thy far-flung borders, and were content to leave their bones to bleach beside some lonely outpost of the Empire they helped to build. But let us for a while leave this lonely frontiersman, and return to our friends and their Iroquois companions.
Four days had been spent in navigating Lake Ontario, and they were now approaching Niagara, below whose thunderous rapids stood the French fort that guarded both the river and the lakes.
Towards evening on the fourth day a distant speck was seen approaching from the westward, and the White Eagle, standing in the bow of the foremost canoe, as he gazed into the face of the setting sun, permitted a sudden cry of surprise to escape from his lips--
"Algonquins!"
'Twas only too true, for there, rapidly approaching and hugging the southern shore of the lake, was a large party of their hated foes, in their big canoes of elm-bark.
The discovery appeared to be mutual, for both parties rent the air with their respective war-cries, and hastened ashore to make ready for the coming battle. Darkness soon settled over forest and lake, but all through the night the woods resounded with the dreadful war-whoops of the Indians, as they chanted their war-songs, and worked themselves into a frenzy of fury.
What a night that was for the two young paleface warriors! The war fever of the Iroquois had in a measure entered into their blood, for they saw in the Algonquins the allies of France and the enemies of England, so they prepared to defend themselves in the morning.
Day dawned at last, and White Eagle and his braves pressed forward to battle; not shoulder to shoulder, nor in unresisting phalanx, as the soldiers of the palefaces fought, but in true Indian fashion the dark-skinned warriors leapt from tree to tree, and cover to cover. Showers of arrows and bullets rattled amongst the trees and rocks, and the wild yells became every moment fiercer and fiercer. Several warriors had fallen on each side, and a dozen scalps had been taken, as the frequent yells of triumph announced.
Deeds of desperate valour were recklessly performed. Homeric contests, ending in frightful wounds or instant death were frequently engaged in, when suddenly, from behind the cover of a huge elm-tree, the Algonquin chief, his plume of black raven feathers nodding with his frenzied action, rushed into the open and challenged the Iroquois leader to single combat.
With a yell of delight White Eagle bounded into the clearing, and accepted the offer. Then, instantly, as if by instinct, every weapon was lowered, and the non-combatants ranged themselves on either side, in a rude semicircle, with a rising back-ground of tall pines and elms, to watch this gladiatorial contest, which threatened to be both brief and sanguinary.
Then followed a pause, during which the two chiefs addressed each other in the figurative but boastful braggadocia, in the use of which the red men excelled all the other nations of the world. The Algonquin chief, whose name was "Black Raven," began as follows--
"Mingo dog! where are the scalps of the Iroquois warriors who came to the Canada River? Ten of them have not returned to their tribe, since the snows melted. My children went to the lodges of the Maquas and the Oneidas, but they found only squaws and children. The scalps of the Iroquois are in the wigwams of the Canadas, and the Canada Father has rewarded his children with many hatchets, and powder to burn in the face of their enemies, because they have cleared the snakes from the woods! The moccasins of the Iroquois cannot be found in the forest. They have been driven from the hunting-grounds of their fathers, never, never to return----!"
"Skunk of the Algonquins!" retorted the Iroquois, "your tongue is forked, like the serpent that hides its head in the grass, and your arm is feeble as the squaw of the Delaware. The singing-birds have called your young men from their Canada lodges, so that my warriors may take their scalps, for before the sun is amongst the pines, your warriors will have followed him into the hunting-grounds of the Great Spirit."
"Iroquois muskrat! Your tongue is sharper than your knife!"
"Hark! What is that sound that I hear? 'Tis the wailing of the squaws in your Canada lodges, because their young men return no more."
"Iroquois snake! Skulking fox!" retorted the Algonquin. "'Tis to you that the singing-birds have spoken, but they have spoken falsely. Slaves of the Yengeese! Never more will your war-whoop be heard in the woods; never more will you fish the streams and hunt the deer, for before the sun shall rise the girdles of my young men will be heavy with your scalps. 'Tis the Mingoes who are women, like the Delawares. They killed my young men when the face of the Manitou was turned away from His children in anger, but now the Great Spirit has delivered you into our hands, and nevermore shall your squaws behold you."
"Dogs of the Canadas! The Iroquois are free and strong as the eagle that soars to the clouds, but the Algonquins are skunks and muskrats. They are slaves to the Canada palefaces. Go hunt the deer and the moose for your French Father, and when, for your portion, he throws you the offals--be grateful."
The tomahawk of the French Indian whirled in the air, as, stung by this biting insult to his tribe, he hurled it at his enemy, and so true was the aim that it only missed the scalp of the Iroquois by an inch, for it carried away half his plume of eagle feathers.
A loud cry of vengeance arose from his warriors as this deadly missile whizzed past their leader.
The next instant the wild scream of an eagle, which was the peculiar war-cry of this renowned chief, rang through the glades and across the lake as the leaders closed in deadly combat. Like the leap of the panther, when robbed of its young, was the fierce onset of the Iroquois chief. Fifty gleaming knives were snatched from their sheaths, and held aloft; but before the warriors on either side could reach the spot, the tomahawk of the White Eagle had stretched his opponent upon the ground, and with keen knife he had already snatched away the trophy that honour demanded.
Then, amid war-whoops and wild yells of savage fury, the fierce passions of the warriors became undammed, and a short but sanguinary conflict occurred. The Algonquins, despite the loss of their leader, fought bravely for a while, but were at length overwhelmed by the relentless fury of the Iroquois. Then they quickly broke and scattered through the forest, pursued by their enemy.
Thus ended another of those fierce fights, so common amongst the Indians tribes in the middle of the eighteenth century, while all the time the armies of the two paleface nations from towards the sun-rising were preparing for that final death grapple, which was to settle for ever the destiny of the northern half of that mighty continent; and to drive the scattered tribes of the children of the Manitou ever westward towards the setting sun.
In this brief fight the youths had remained little more than passive spectators, for they soon saw how the conflict must end, and that without their help the Iroquois, although outnumbered, would secure the victory.
"I do wish, Jack, that our allies would desist from that barbarous practice of taking scalps. See there! a dozen scalps already hang at the girdles of our comrades, and even yet they are not satisfied, but must pursue their wretched victims into the woods. Bah! My heart sickens at the sight!"
"'Tis Indian nature, Jamie. Victory brings them no honour unless the victim's scalp be taken. Even the squaws look askance at the warrior who returns from the war-path without these hideous trophies hanging at his belt."
"There seems little honour to me in mangling the corpse of a fallen victim."
"Why, the youth is scarcely regarded as a man till he has brought home his first scalp. Their belief is, that the spirit and strength of the dead man enters into the victorious brave, and, horrible as it is, and God knows how I hate it all, 'tis not more horrible than the deeds of some of the paleface pirates in the Southern Seas, who sometimes treat their unfortunate victims in a cruel and barbarous manner."
They had been leaning on their rifles, on a little rising ground near the lake, watching the fight and the pursuit, when suddenly from out the dark aisles of the forest there came the piercing scream of the eagle once more.
"What can be the matter now? Surely the enemy are not returning, reinforced!" cried Red Feather, quickly bringing his rifle to the ready.
"No. 'Tis the signal for the return of the braves; evidently White Eagle scents a new danger, and is anxious to get away."
"What new danger can there be?"
"Why, don't you see that the Algonquins have taken the route that will lead them to the French fort at Niagara, where almost every soldier will turn out to their assistance, when they hear that the renowned White Eagle is within twenty miles of the fort? At least, I assume that is the cause; but look! Here comes the chief himself, and he is making for the canoes. Let us speak with him."
CHAPTER XI
THE SMOKE-SIGNAL
"What is the matter, chief?" asked Jack. "What new danger has my red brother discovered?"
"Look!" replied White Eagle, pointing in the direction of the fort and along the shore of the lake. "What does my paleface brother see yonder?"
Jack strained his eyes in the direction indicated, but for some seconds even his keen eyes did not notice anything unusual. At length, however, he perceived a thin column of smoke far away in the distance, rising above the forest and lake; then a second and a third column, but so faint as to be nearly indistinguishable.
"I see the smoke from the camp-fires of a party of hunters, perhaps Yengeese trappers, but nothing that threatens danger."
The sachem shook his head sagely, as he replied--
"No Yengeese! It is Algonquin smoke. A signal to the paleface warriors at the fort, who will hurry to burn their powder in the face of White Eagle. Too much price on Iroquois scalp!" And here the chief's face relaxed into the faintest of smiles, as though he appreciated the value that was placed upon his head by the French, and considered it a great honour and a tribute to his prowess and the impotence of his enemies.
Then for an instant his face became clouded and a momentary wave of irresolution passed over his countenance. To escape the net that was being drawn around him was comparatively easy, but to convey all the plunder of the expedition safely to the lodges of the Iroquois was another matter. His resolution, however, was quickly taken. They were now within ten miles of the mouth of a stream, called "Twelve Mile Creek," that entered the forest south of Lake Ontario, and only a dozen miles from the fort. To gain that creek, to take the loaded canoes up the stream against the rapids and rifts, and then to make a portage of four miles to gain the Niagara River above the fort, was the daring resolve of the White Eagle.
It was a piece of daring that was worthy of an Iroquois chief, who had already secured a reputation for reckless daring that was second to that of no other chief amongst the Six Nations. The great danger lay in the fact that at one bend in the stream they would be within seven or eight miles of the fort, with all the possibilities of being ambushed by their hated foes and also by the Frenchers.
The whole party now took to the canoes, and proceeded as rapidly and as silently as possible along the shore in a westerly direction. Soon after mid-day they reached the mouth of the creek, and without a moment's delay, except to land a couple of scouts on either bank, they paddled as quickly as possible up the narrow stream, while the scouts went ahead to explore the forest-lined banks and to give the alarm as soon as they should discover the slightest sign of the enemy, who could not now be far away. To these eager warriors their progress seemed to be painfully slow. Fallen trees sometimes blocked their way. At other times the canoes had to be dragged through the shallows and lifted over rocks.
It was hard work, but the youths bore their share of all this arduous toil. It was exciting, too, for at any moment they might hear the crack of the Algonquin and French rifles. Sometimes they were up to their knees in the water, pushing and lifting the canoes forward.
As they advanced further and further up the watercourse, for it could hardly be called a river, the creek narrowed and the trees overhung and interlaced, shutting out the sun, so that, though it was little past mid-day, it was scarcely more than twilight. Not a word was spoken for a while, and except for the music of the stream the forest was as silent as death. Even the birds had ceased to sing, and the little squirrels watched them furtively from the branches overhead, wondering what strange creatures these were who were toiling so arduously at the canoes.
Not a signal had come as yet from the scouts, on whom they were implicitly relying. They were getting perilously near to that fatal bend in the river where if an ambush was in hiding, it was sure to be. The Indians exchanged suspicious glances. They fingered their knives and tomahawks uneasily and frequently looked to the priming of their rifles.
"What is that noise I can hear, rising and falling, very faintly, like the water of the Big Salt Lake in a storm, when the Manitou is angry?" asked Jack of one of the Iroquois braves, who was called the Panther.
"'Tis the Spirit of the Wacondah in the caverns under the Great Falls!" answered the Indian in low and reverent tones.
"Niagara!" whispered Jack to his comrade, "and only a few miles away."
"Yes. The Iroquois believe that the Great Spirit, the God of Thunder, dwells under the Falls, and they speak of him always in a whisper, even by their firesides far away."
"Hist! What was that?"
The crackle of a twig was heard on the western bank, and the eye of every Indian was instantly turned in that direction, while many a hand instinctively grasped its weapon more tightly. The bushes parted, and an Iroquois scout came forth from the cover of the forest and sought the eye of his chief. Evidently he had something of importance to communicate.
White Eagle left the batteaux and approached him. Then a few guttural exclamations passed between them, and the scout disappeared once more as quietly as he had come.
"Did you hear what he said, Panther?"
"Yes. The Algonquins, with whom we fought early this morning, have fallen in with another party under Le Grand Loup, a renowned chief, who is White Eagle's greatest enemy, and they have laid an ambush for us two miles further up the stream. In addition, help is expected from the fort within an hour," replied the brave.
"Snakes alive! What will the chief do?"
"Ugh! White Eagle no afraid. The Wacondah fights for him."
The scouts had done their work bravely and well. They had soon discovered the prints of Algonquin moccasins in the woods. Some they found had led towards the bend in the river where the ambush had been laid. They had even penetrated to this spot, past the enemy's scouts, and had learnt of the juncture of the two parties. They had also discovered the trail of an Indian runner in the direction of the fort, and had heard the drums of the French calling the men to arms.
"What's to be done, Jack? We're scarcely out of one fix before we're in another."
"It seems so!" said that worthy. "I don't know what the Eagle will do, but something will have to be done, and quickly, if we're to retain our scalp-locks."
"Look! What is the chief about? The men are dragging the canoes ashore and piling the brushwood around them."
"Why, he's going to burn them to prevent them falling into the hands of the enemy. 'Tis certain that we shall never get them past the next bend; so, after all, our labour has been in vain."
Jack's surmise was correct. Without a moment's hesitation, as soon as the scout had departed, the sachem ordered the boats to be so placed that at a given signal they could be immediately fired by a small party who were to be left in charge. The rest were to follow him and take the enemy unawares in the rear before the French could arrive to their support.
This plan was put into operation without a moment's delay, and leaving a small party of four in charge of the canoes, the rest entered the forest and moved quickly in the direction of the enemy. As they were likely to encounter the French, the lads decided to accompany the attacking party. They had not proceeded far when the scout met them who had reported the presence of the enemy.
"The paleface warriors are half-way from the fort. What will White Eagle do? They will be here before the sun is below the top-most branches of the pines," said the scout, addressing the chief.
"Ugh! Ugh!" merely remarked the Iroquois; then turning towards the two paleface warriors who accompanied him, he said--
"My brothers, Black Hawk and Red Feather, are great warriors from the land of Wabun. Can they delay the rifles of the French Father for one hour till they hear the scream of the Eagle, while my warriors take the scalps of the Algonquin dogs, who lie in wait like the serpent in the grass?"
"Give us but a dozen rifles, chief, and we'll hold them back for a day!" exclaimed Jack.
"Ugh! My brother will be a great chief before the snows have settled upon his head. Let him chose a dozen rifles from amongst my braves, and they shall accompany the paleface chiefs and follow their orders."
A dozen men were quickly chosen, including the scout and the Panther, and they at once started out, led by the scout through the forest in the direction whence the French must soon come.
Half-a-mile further on they selected a spot where they could await with advantage the arrival of the soldiers from the fort.
"Here! This spot will do! They will soon be here. Let us make ready," said Jamie. The Indians were soon under cover on either side of the rough track which led to the fort.
They could now hear plainly the drums of the advancing army. Soon they caught a glimpse of the white uniforms of the French through the vista of trees.
"There are over a hundred of them, Jamie! Can we hold them back for an hour?"
"We promised the chief that we would, and we must keep our promise," said Jamie, whose lips were compressed and whose brows were knit, as he narrowly watched the approaching French.
The drums were silent now as the foe, with shouldered rifles and martial equipment, marched boldly forward, threading their circuitous route through the forest glades. Careless of any ambush, they came forward singing and laughing, to show how much they despised the savage horde they were expecting shortly to encounter.
Suddenly the sound of distant firing burst upon them. Mingled with the shots were savage yells and whoops, which showed that the Iroquois had attacked the party at the bend of the river. Louder and louder became the din.
"Avancez, mes camarades! Allez vite donc! Il y a ces diables Iroquois!"
At this command the French advanced more quickly, lest the fighting should be all over before they arrived, and the drums beat out again bravely. Their whole attention was engrossed by the distant firing, and they knew not that already the head of their column was entering an ambush, and that fourteen rifles were levelled at their leading files.
"Fire!" shouted Jack, and a deadly hail of bullets followed a blinding flash and a report that echoed through the forest. Taken thus suddenly by surprise, the head of the column staggered and wavered. Many a man fell to rise no more. A panic seized the whole party, and for a few moments it seemed doubtful whether their officers would succeed in rallying them, so susceptible even are the bravest troops to sudden fright when unexpectedly ambushed by an unseen foe.
A second volley was poured in upon the confused mass, and a scene of indescribable terror prevailed. Hoarse shouts of command were heard. The cries of the wounded and the wild yells of the Iroquois resounded through the woods.
The second fire revealed the position of the Iroquois as well as the paucity of their numbers, and the French commander shouted out--
"A moi, camarades! Suivez-moi! Voilà l'ennemi!" and waving his sword he dashed towards the revealed ambush followed by half his troops with fixed bayonets.
Like chaff before the wind the Indians scattered and sought cover in the deeper shades of the forest, leaping from tree to tree, and bush to bush, firing upon the foe, who were compelled to deploy and enter the thicket in single file. This was Indian warfare with a vengeance, for neither party came into the open. For an hour this was kept up, and the French, who could never come to grips with the wily foe, who always retreated like a phantom before their bayonets, were compelled to retire, for their leader had at length come to see that the whole aim of the enemy was merely to delay their approach to the Algonquins.
Suddenly, from a distance, the scream of the Eagle was heard twice in rapid succession.
"Our work is done now, Jamie! Let's give the French a final salute and depart."
A parting volley was let loose upon the enemy, and then the two paleface chiefs led back their band quickly, and rejoined the victorious warriors of the Iroquois chief, who had driven the Algonquins across the river with great slaughter. Only two were wounded, and none were missing, as Jack looked at his dusky warriors, but of the French quite twenty had been killed and wounded.