CHAPTER V
TAMING A SPY
Young Lennox undeniably felt exultation. It fairly permeated hissystem. The taking of Garay had been so easy that it seemed as if thegreater powers had put him squarely in their path, and had deprivedhim of all vigilance, in order that he might fall like a ripe pluminto their hands. Surely the face of Areskoui was still turnedtoward them, and the gods, having had their play, were benevolent ofmood--that is, so far as Robert and Tayoga were concerned, althoughthe spy might take a different view of the matter. The triumph, andthe whimsical humor that yet possessed him, moved him to floweryspeech.
"Monsieur Garay, Achille, my friend," he said. "You are surprised thatwe know you so well, but remember that you left a visiting card withus in Albany, the time you sent an evil bullet past my head, and thenproved too swift for Tayoga. That's a little matter we must look intosome time soon. I don't understand why you wished me to leave theworld prematurely. It must surely have been in the interest of someoneelse, because I had never heard of you before in my life. But we'llpass over the incident now as something of greater importance is tothe fore. It was really kind of you, Achille, to sit down there in themiddle of the trail, beside a fire that was sure to serve as a beacon,and wait for us to come. It reflects little credit, however, on yourskill as a woodsman, and, from sheer kindness of heart, we're notgoing to let you stay out in the forest after dark."
Garay turned a frightened look upon him. It was mention of thebullet in Albany that struck renewed terror to his soul. But Robert,ordinarily gentle and sympathetic, was not inclined to spare him.
"As I told you," he continued, "Tayoga and I are disposed to be easywith you, but Willet has a heart as cold as a stone. We saw you goingto the French and Indian camp, and we laid an ambush for you on yourway back. We were expecting to take you, and Willet has talked of youin merciless fashion. What he intends to do with you is more than I'vebeen able to determine. Ah, he comes now!"
The parting bushes disclosed a tall figure, rifle ready, and Robertcalled cheerily:
"Here we are, Dave, back again, and we bring with us a welcome guest.Monsieur Achille Garay was lost in the forest, and, taking pity onhim, we've brought him in to share our hospitality. Mr. David Willet,Monsieur Achille Garay of everywhere."
Willet smiled grimly and led the way back to the spruce shelter. ToGaray's frightened eyes he bore out fully Robert's description.
"You lads seem to have taken him without trouble," he said. "You'vedone well. Sit down, Garay, on that log; we've business with you."
Garay obeyed.
"Now," said the hunter, "what message did you take to St. Luc and theFrench and Indian force?"
The man was silent. Evidently he was gathering together the shreds ofhis courage, as his back stiffened. Willet observed him shrewdly.
"You don't choose to answer," he said. "Well, we'll find a way to makeyou later on. But the message you carried was not so important as themessage you're taking back. It's about you, somewhere. Hand over thedispatch."
"I've no dispatch," said Garay sullenly.
"Oh, yes, you have! A man like you wouldn't be making such a long anddangerous journey into the high mountains and back again for nothing.Come, Garay, your letter!"
The spy was silent.
"Search him, lads!" said Willet.
Garay recoiled, but when the hunter threatened him with his pistolhe submitted to the dextrous hands of Robert and Tayoga. They wentthrough all his pockets, and then they made him remove his clothingpiece by piece, while they thrust the points of their knives throughthe lining for concealed documents. But the steel touched nothing.Then they searched his heavy moccasins, and even pulled the solesloose, but no papers were disclosed. There was nowhere else to lookand the capture had brought no reward.
"He doesn't seem to have anything," said Robert.
"He must have! He is bound to have!" said the hunter.
"You have had your look," said Garay, a note of triumph showing inhis voice, "and you have failed. I bear no message because I am nomessenger. I am a Frenchman, it is true, but I have no part in thiswar. I am not a soldier or a scout. You should let me go."
"But that bullet in Albany."
"I did not fire it. It was someone else. You have made a mistake."
"We've made no mistake," said the hunter. "We know what you are. Weknow, too, that a dispatch of great importance is about you somewhere.It is foolish to think otherwise, and we mean to have it."
"I carry no dispatch," repeated Garay in his sullen, obstinate tones.
"We mean that you shall give it to us," said the hunter, "and soon youwill be glad to do so."
Robert glanced at him, but Willet did not reveal his meaning. It wasimpossible to tell what course he meant to take, and the two lads werewilling to let the event disclose itself. The same sardonic humor thathad taken possession of Robert seemed to lay hold of the older manalso.
"Since you're to be our guest for a while, Monsieur Garay," he said,"we'll give you our finest room. You'll sleep in the spruce shelter,while we spread our blankets outside. But lest you do harm toyourself, lest you take into your head some foolish notion to commitsuicide, we'll have to bind you. Tayoga can do it in such a mannerthat the thongs will cause you no pain. You'll really admire hiswonderful skill."
The Onondaga bound Garay securely with strips, cut from the prisoner'sown clothing, and they left him lying within the spruce shelter. Atdawn the next day Willet awoke the captive, who had fallen into atroubled slumber.
"Your letter," he said. "We want it."
"I have no letter," replied Garay stubbornly.
"We shall ask you for it once every two hours, and the time will comewhen you'll be glad to give it to us."
Then he turned to the lads and said they would have the finestbreakfast in months to celebrate the good progress of their work.
Robert built up a splendid fire, and, taking their time about it, theybroiled bear meat, strips of the deer they had killed and portions ofwild pigeon and the rare wild turkey. Varied odors, all appetizing,and the keen, autumnal air gave them an appetite equal to anything.Yet Willet lingered long, seeing that everything was exactly rightbefore he gave the word to partake, and then they remained yetanother good while over the feast, getting the utmost relish out ofeverything. When they finally rose from their seats on the logs, twohours had passed since Willet had awakened Garay and he went back tohim.
"Your letter?" he said.
"I have no letter," replied Garay, "but I'm very hungry. Let me havemy breakfast."
"Your letter?"
"I've told you again and again that I've no letter."
"It's now about 8:30 o'clock; at half past ten I'll ask you for itagain."
He went back to the two lads and helped them to put out the fire.Garay set up a cry for food, and then began to threaten them with thevengeance of the Indians, but they paid no attention to him. At halfpast ten as indicated by the sun, Willet returned to him.
"The letter?" he said.
"How many times am I to tell you that I have no letter?"
"Very well. At half past twelve I shall ask for it again."
At half past twelve Garay returned the same answer, and then thethree ate their noonday meal, which, like the breakfast, was rich andluscious. Once more the savory odors of bear, deer, wild turkey andwild pigeon filled the forest, and Garay, lying in the doorway of thehut, where he could see, and where the splendid aroma reached hisnostrils, writhed in his bonds, but still held fast to his resolution.
Robert said nothing, but the sardonic humor of both the Onondaga andthe hunter was well to the fore. Holding a juicy bear steak inhis hand, Tayoga walked over to the helpless spy and examined himcritically.
"Too fat," he said judicially, "much too fat for those who would roamthe forest. Woodsmen, scouts and runners should be lean. It burdensthem to carry weight. And you, Achille Garay, will be much better off,if you drop twenty pounds."
"Twenty pounds, Tayoga!" exclaimed Wil
let, who had joined him, a wholeroasted pigeon in his hands. "How can you make such an underestimate!Our rotund Monsieur would be far more graceful and far more healthyif he dropped forty pounds! And it behooves us, his trainers andphysicians, to see that he drops 'em. Then he will go back to Albanyand to his good friend, Mynheer Hendrik Martinus, a far handsomer manthan he was when he left. It may be that he'll be so much improvedthat Mynheer Hendrik will not know him. Truly, Tayoga, this wildpigeon has a most savory taste! When wild pigeon is well cooked andthe air of the forest has sharpened your appetite to a knife edgenothing is finer."
"But it is no better than the tender steak of young bear," saidTayoga, with all the inflections of a gourmand. "The people of mynation and of all the Indian nations have always loved bear. It istenderer even than venison and it contains more juices. For the hungryman nothing is superior to the taste or for the building up of sinewsand muscles than the steak of fat young bear."
Garay writhed again in his bonds, and closed his eyes that he mightshut away the vision of the two. Robert was forced to smile. At halfpast two, as he judged it to be by the sun, Willet said to Garay oncemore:
"The papers, Monsieur Achille."
But Garay, sullen and obstinate, refused to reply. The hunter did notrepeat the question then, but went back to the fire, whistling gayly alight tune. The three were spending the day in homely toil, polishingtheir weapons, cleaning their clothing, and making the numerous littlerepairs, necessary after a prolonged and arduous campaign. They werevery cheerful about it, too. Why shouldn't they be? Both Tayoga andthe hunter had scouted in wide circles about the camp, and had seenthat there was no danger. For a vast distance they and their prisonerwere alone in the forest. So, they luxuriated and with abundance ofappetizing food made up for their long period of short commons.
At half past four Willet repeated his question, but the lips of thespy remained tightly closed.
"Remember that I'm not urging you," said the hunter, politely. "I'm abeliever in personal independence and I like people to do what theywant to do, as long as it doesn't interfere with anybody else. So Itell you to think it over. We've plenty of time. We can stay here aweek, two weeks, if need be. We'd rather you felt sure you were rightbefore you made up your mind. Then you wouldn't be remorseful aboutany mistake."
"A wise man meditates long before he speaks," said Tayoga, "and itfollows then that our Achille Garay is very wise. He knows, too, thathis figure is improving already. He has lost at least five pounds."
"Nearer eight I sum it up, Tayoga," said Willet. "The improvement isvery marked."
"I think you are right, Great Bear. Eight it is and you also speaktruly about the improvement. If our Monsieur Garay were able to standup and walk he would be much more graceful than he was, when he sokindly marched into our guiding hands."
"Don't pay him too many compliments, Tayoga. They'll prove trying toa modest man. Come away, now. Monsieur Garay wishes to spend the nexttwo hours with his own wise thoughts and who are we to break in uponsuch a communion?"
"The words of wisdom fall like precious beads from your lips, GreatBear. For two hours we will leave our guest to his great thoughts."
At half past six came the question, "Your papers?" once more, andGaray burst forth with an angry refusal, though his voice trembled.Willet shrugged his shoulders, turned away, and helped the ladsprepare a most luxurious and abundant evening meal, Tayoga adding wildgrapes and Robert nuts to their varied course of meats, the grapesbeing served on blazing red autumn leaves, the whole very pleasing tothe eye as well as to the taste.
"I think," said Willet, in tones heard easily by Garay, "that I havein me just a trace of the epicure. I find, despite my years in thewilderness, that I enjoy a well spread board, and that bits ofdecoration appeal to me; in truth, give an added savor to the viands."
"In the vale of Onondaga when the fifty old and wise sachems make abanquet," said Tayoga, "the maidens bring fruit and wild flowers toit that the eye also may have its feast. It is not a weakness, but anexcellence in Great Bear to like the decorations."
They lingered long over the board, protracting the feast far after thefall of night and interspersing it with pleasant conversation. Theruddy flames shone on their contented faces, and their light laughtercame frequently to the ears of Garay. At half past eight the question,grown deadly by repetition, was asked, and, when only a curse came,Willet said:
"As it is night I'll ask you, Achille Garay, for your papers onlyonce every four hours. That is the interval at which we'll change ourguard, and we don't wish, either, to disturb you many times in yourpleasant slumbers. It would not be right to call a man back too oftenfrom the land of Tarenyawagon, who, you may know, is the Iroquoissender of dreams."
Garay, whom they had now laid tenderly upon the floor of the hut,turned his face away, and Willet went back to the fire, humming in apleased fashion to himself. At half past twelve he awoke Garay fromhis uneasy sleep and propounded to him his dreadful query, grownterrifying by its continual iteration. At half past four Tayoga askedit, and it was not necessary then to awake Garay. He had not sleptsince half past twelve. He snarled at the Iroquois, and then sank backon the blanket that they had kindly placed for him. Tayoga, his bronzeface expressing nothing, went back to his watch by the fire.
Breakfast was cooked by Robert and Willet, and again it was lusciousand varied. Robert had risen early and he caught several of the finelake trout that he broiled delicately over the coals. He hadalso gathered grapes fresh with the morning dew, and wonderfullyappetizing, and some of the best of the nuts were left over. Bear,deer, venison and turkey they still had in abundance.
The morning itself was the finest they had encountered so far. Muchsnow had fallen in the high mountains, but winter had not touched theearth here. The deep colors of the leaves, moved by the light wind,shifted and changed like a prism. The glorious haze of Indian summerhung over everything like a veil of finest gauze. The air wassurcharged with vitality and life. It was pleasant merely to sit andbreathe at such a time.
"I've always claimed," said Robert, as he passed a beautifully broiledtrout to Tayoga and another to the hunter, "that I can cook fishbetter than either of you. Dave, I freely admit, can surpass me in thematter of venison and Tayoga is a finer hand with bear than I am, butI'm a specialist with fish, be it salmon, or trout, or salmon trout,or perch or pickerel or what not."
"Your boast is justified, in very truth, Robert," said Willet. "I'veknown none other who can prepare a fish with as much tenderness andperfection as you. I suppose 'tis born in you, but you have a way ofpreserving the juices and savors which defies description and which isbeyond praise. 'Tis worth going hungry a long while to put one's toothinto so delicate a morsel as this salmon trout, and 'tis a great pity,too, that our guest, Monsieur Achille Garay, will not join us, whenwe've an abundance so great and a variety so rich."
The wretched spy and intermediary could hear every word they said, andRobert fell silent, but the hunter and the Onondaga talked freely andwith abounding zest.
"'Tis a painful thing," said Willet, "to offer hospitality and tohave it refused. Monsieur Garay knows that he would be welcome at ourboard, and yet he will not come. I fear, Robert, that you have cookedtoo many of these superlative fish, and that they must even go towaste, which is a sin. They would make an admirable beginning for ourguest's breakfast, if he would but consent to join us."
"It is told by the wise old sachems of the great League," said Tayoga,"that warriors have gone many days without food, when plenty of itwas ready for their taking, merely to test their strength of body andwill. Their sufferings were acute and terrible. Their flesh wastedaway, their muscles became limp and weak, their sight failed, painstabbed them with a thousand needles, but they would not yield andtouch sustenance before the time appointed."
"I've heard of many such cases, Tayoga, and I've seen some, but it wasalways warriors who were doing the fasting. I doubt whether white mencould stand it so long, and 'tis quite sure they would su
ffer more.About the third day 'twould be as bad as being tied to the stake in themiddle of the flames."
"Great Bear speaks the truth, as he always does. No white man canstand it. If he tried it his sufferings would be beyond anything ofwhich he might dream."
A groan burst suddenly from the wretched Garay. The hunter and theOnondaga looked at each other and their eyes expressed astonishment.
"Did you hear a sound in the thicket?" asked Willet.
"I think it came from the boughs overhead," said Tayoga.
"I could have sworn 'twas the growl of a bear."
"To me it sounded like the croak of a crow."
"After all, we may have heard nothing. Imagination plays strangetricks with us."
"It is true, Great Bear. We hear queer sounds when there are no soundsat all. The air is full of spirits, and now and then they have sportwith us."
A second groan burst from Garay, now more wretched than ever.
"I heard it again!" exclaimed the hunter. "'Tis surely the growl ofa bear in the bush! The sound was like that of an angry wild animal!But, we'll let it go. The sun tells meet's half past eight o'clock andI go to ask our guest the usual question."
"Enough!" exclaimed Garay. "I yield! I cannot bear this any longer!"
"Your papers, please!"
"Unbind me and give me food!"
"Your papers first, our fish next."
As he spoke the hunter leaned over, and with his keen hunting knifesevered Garay's bonds. The man sat up, rubbed his wrists and anklesand breathed deeply.
"Your papers!" repeated Willet.
"Bring me my pistol, the one that the Indian filched from me while Islept," said Garay.
"Your pistol!" exclaimed the hunter, in surprise. "Now I'd certainlybe foolish to hand you a deadly and loaded weapon!"
But Robert's quick intellect comprehended at once. He snatched theheavy pistol from the Onondaga's belt, drew forth the bullet and thendrew the charge behind it, not powder at all, but a small, tightlyfolded paper of tough tissue, which he held aloft triumphantly.
"Very clever! very clever!" said Willet in admiration. "The pistol wasloaded, but 'twould never be fired, and nobody would have thought ofsearching its barrel. Tayoga, give Monsieur Garay the two spare fishand anything else he wants, but see that he eats sparingly because agorge will go ill with a famished man, and then we'll have a look athis precious document."
The Onondaga treated Garay as the honored guest they had been callinghim, giving him the whole variety of their breakfast, but, at guardedintervals, which allowed him to relish to the full all the savors andjuices that had been taunting him so long. Willet opened the letter,smoothed it out carefully on his knee, and holding it up to the lightuntil the words stood out clearly, read:
"To Hendrik Martinus At Albany.
"The intermediary of whom you know, the bearer of this letter, hasbrought me word from you that the English Colonial troops, after theunfortunate battle at Lake George, have not pushed their victory. Healso informs us that the governors of the English colonies do notagree, and that there is much ill feeling among the different Colonialforces. He says that Johnson still suffering from his wound, does notmove, and that the spirit has gone out of our enemies. All of which iswelcome news to us at this juncture, since it has given to us the timethat we need.
"Our defeat but incites us to greater efforts. The Indian tribes whohave cast their lot with us are loyal to our arms. All the forces ofFrance and New France are being assembled to crush our foes. We havelost Dieskau, but a great soldier, Louis Joseph de Saint Veran, theMarquis de Montcalm-Gozon, is coming from France to lead our armies.He will be assisted by the incomparable chieftains, the Chevalier deLevis, the Chevalier Bourlamaque and others who understand the warfareof the wilderness. Even now we are preparing to move with a greatpower on Albany and we may surprise the town.
"Tell those of whom you know in Albany and New York to be ready withrifles and ammunition and other presents for the Indian warriors. Muchdepends upon their skill and promptness in delivering these valuablegoods to the tribes. It seals them to our standard. They can be landedat the places of which we know, and then be carried swiftly across thewilderness. But I bid you once more to exercise exceeding caution. Letno name of those associated with us ever be entrusted to writing, as asingle slip might bring our whole fabric crashing to the ground, andsend to death those who serve us. After you have perused this letterdestroy it. Do not tear it in pieces and throw them away but burn itto the last and least little fragment. In conclusion I say yet again,caution, caution, caution.
Raymond Louis de St. Luc."
The three looked at one another. Garay was in the third course of hisbreakfast, and no longer took notice of anything else.
"Those associated with us in Albany and New York," quoted Willet. "NowI wonder who they are. I might make a shrewd guess at one, but nonames are given and as we have no proof we must keep silent about himfor the present. Yet this paper is of vast importance and it must beput in hands that know how to value it."
"Then the hands must be those of Colonel William Johnson," saidRobert.
"I fancy you're right, lad. Yet 'tis hard just now to decide upon thewisest policy."
"The colonel is the real leader of our forces," persisted the lad."It's to him that we must go."
"It looks so, Robert, but for a few days we've got to considerourselves. Now that we have his letter I wish we didn't have Garay."
"You wouldn't really have starved him, would you, Dave? Somehow itseemed pretty hard."
The hunter laughed heartily.
"Bless your heart, lad," he replied. "Don't you be troubled about theway we dealt with Garay. I knew all the while that he would never getto the starving point, or I wouldn't have tried it with him. I knew bylooking at him that his isn't the fiber of which martyrs are made. Icalculated that he would give up last night or this morning."
"Are we going to take him back with us a prisoner?"
"That's the trouble. As a spy, which he undoubtedly is, his life isforfeit, but we are not executioners. For scouts and messengers suchas we are he'd be a tremendous burden to take along with us. Moreover,I think that after his long fast he'd eat all the game we could kill,and we don't propose to spend our whole time feeding one of ourenemies."
"Call Tayoga," said Robert.
The Onondaga came and then young Lennox said to his two comrades:
"Are you willing to trust me in the matter of Garay, our prisoner?"
"Yes," they replied together.
Robert went to the man, who was still immersed in his gross feeding,and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Listen, Garay," he said. "You're the bearer of secret and treacherousdispatches, and you're a spy. You must know that under all the rulesof war your life is forfeit to your captors."
Garay's face became gray and ghastly.
"You--you wouldn't murder me?" he said.
"There could be no such thing as murder in your case, and we won'ttake your life, either."
The face of the intermediary recovered its lost color.
"You will spare me, then?" he exclaimed joyfully.
"In a way, yes, but we're not going to carry you back in luxury toAlbany, nor are we thinking of making you an honored member of ourband. You've quite a time before you."
"I don't understand you."
"You will soon. You're going back to the Chevalier de St. Luc who haslittle patience with failure, and you'll find that the road to himabounds in hard traveling. It may be, too, that the savage Tandakorawill ask you some difficult questions, but if so, Monsieur AchilleGaray, it will be your task to answer them, and I take it that youhave a fertile mind. In any event, you will be equipped to meet him byyour journey, which will be full of variety and effort and which willstrengthen and harden your mind."
The face of Garay paled again, and he gazed at Robert in a sort ofdazed fashion. The imagination of young Lennox was alive and leaping.He had found what seemed to him a happy solution o
f a knotty problem,and, as usual in such cases, his speech became fluent and golden.
"Oh, you'll enjoy it, Monsieur Achille Garay," he said in his mellow,persuasive voice. "The forest is beautiful at this time of the yearand the mountains are so magnificent always that they must appeal toanyone who has in his soul the strain of poetry that I know you have.The snow, too, I think has gone from the higher peaks and ridges andyou will not be troubled by extreme cold. If you should wander fromthe path back to St. Luc you will have abundant leisure in which tofind it again, because for quite a while to come time will be of noimportance to you. And as you'll go unarmed, you'll be in no danger ofshooting your friends by mistake."
"You're not going to turn me into the wilderness to starve?"
"Not at all. We'll give you plenty of food. Tayoga and I will see youwell on your way. Now, since you've eaten enough, you start at once."
Tayoga and the hunter fell in readily with Robert's plan. The captivereceived enough food to last four days, which he carried in a packfastened on his back, and then Robert and Tayoga accompanied himnorthward and back on the trail.
Much of Garay's courage returned as they marched steadily on throughthe forest. When he summed it up he found that he had fared well. Hiscaptors had really been soft-hearted. It was not usual for one servingas an intermediary and spy like himself to escape, when taken, withhis life and even with freedom. Life! How precious it was! YoungLennox had said that the forest was beautiful, and it was! It wassplendid, grand, glorious to one who had just come out of the jaws ofdeath, and the air of late autumn was instinct with vitality. He drewhimself up jauntily, and his step became strong and springy.
They walked on many miles and Robert, whose speech had been so fluentbefore, was silent now. Nor did the Onondaga speak either. Garayhimself hazarded a few words, but meeting with no response his spiritsfell a little. The trail led over a low ridge, and at its crest histwo guards stopped.
"Here we bid you farewell, Monsieur Achille Garay," said Robert."Doubtless you will wish to commune with your own thoughts and ourpresence will no longer disturb you. Our parting advice to you is togive up the trade in which you have been engaged. It is full perilous,and it may be cut short at any time by sudden death. Moreover, it issomewhat bare of honor, and even if it should be crowned by continuedsuccess 'tis success of a kind that's of little value. Farewell."
"Farewell," said Garay, and almost before he could realize it, the twofigures had melted into the forest behind him. A weight was liftedfrom him with their going, and once more his spirits bounded upward.He was Achille Garay, bold and venturesome, and although he waswithout weapons he did not fear two lads.
Three miles farther on he turned. He did not care to face St. Luc, hisletter lost, and the curious, dogged obstinacy that lay at the back ofhis character prevailed. He would go back. He would reach those forwhom his letter had been intended, Martinus and the others, and hewould win the rich rewards that had been promised to him. He hadplenty of food, he would make a wide curve, advance at high speed andget to Albany ahead of the foolish three.
He turned his face southward and walked swiftly through the thickets.A rifle cracked and a twig overhead severed by a bullet fell upon hisface. Garay shivered and stood still for a long time. Courage trickledback, and he resumed his advance, though it was slow. A second riflecracked, and a bullet passed so close to his cheek that he felt itswind. He could not restrain a cry of terror, and turning again he flednorthward to St. Luc.
The Masters of the Peaks: A Story of the Great North Woods Page 7
