Under Wolfe's Flag; or, The Fight for the Canadas

by Rowland Walker

  *CHAPTER XIV*

  *SWIFT ARROW DISAPPEARS*

  "The paleface hunter, did my brother say? Is he the prisoner?" exclaimedJamie, leaping to his feet, trembling with suppressed excitement.

  "Hist! my brother forgets that an enemy is near!" said Young Eagle,raising his finger to request caution.

  At this moment, after several cabalistic signs, Swift Arrow left thecamp and quietly disappeared in the forest, and Jamie, expressing regretat permitting his feelings to gain the mastery over him at such amoment, resumed his seat on the ground.

  "Whither away, Swift Arrow?" called Jack softly, as the Indian youthglided past him, but he either did not hear him, or heeded not hisquestion.

  "Swift Arrow has gone to the wigwams of the White Eagle, to say that hisfriend is in the hands of the Algonquins," said the Young Eagle, who hadnow assumed all the gravity and demeanour of an Iroquois chief.

  "Phew! That means a journey of sixty miles at least. Rather a longstep for a lad, who hunted all day yesterday and scouted all last night.When will he get there?"

  "When the sun touches the tree-tops to-morrow White Eagle will know!"replied the young chief.

  "Then he will come with all the warriors who are not away hunting, andfight the Algonquins?" asked Jamie.

  "Ugh!" said the Indian, signifying yes.

  "Perhaps that may be too late to save the paleface. I fear they willhave put him to death," said Jamie gloomily. "Cannot we go and save himnow?"

  "Why, what's the matter, old chap? You seem very despondent," saidJack, as his comrade heaved a sigh deep enough to break his heart. "Doyou despair of your life, that you want to throw it away so cheaply? Ifwe are discovered by yonder crew, our lives are not worth a toss, andour scalps will be carried to the Canada lodges."

  "The Wacondah has spoken to my brother, and his heart is heavy," saidthe Indian, looking straight at Red Feather with his piercing eyes.

  "What is it, Jamie? Out with it. We agreed that there should be nosecrets between us," said Jack, half in jest and half in earnest.

  "Jack," said his friend solemnly, "I dreamt last night that I saw thispaleface hunter in the clutches of the Algonquins. He was bound to atree, and they were practising upon him every conceivable torture thateven a red devil can invent. I saw him pierced and wounded, and theblood flowing freely from his head and face. Then, having tormented himto the utmost bounds, and finding that his brave heart quailed notbeneath it all, they brought faggots and brushwood and kindled them athis feet. They were going to burn him to death, yes, roast him alive,while they danced around him in mad delight. But just as they kindledthe fire, and my heart was bursting with grief and agony, because I wasunable to help, I awoke, for I could bear it no longer. Then SwiftArrow returned and told what he himself had seen, but I believe that Isaw even more than he did, for he saw not the tortures--and--and--I fearthat we shall be too late when the chief arrives with his braves. Thatis why I wished to go straight to the camp now, and what is more, theface of that hunter is as familiar to me as your own, that is by night,for I have often dreamt of him before, but by daylight his featuresbecome indistinct, and I cannot recall his face. So now that is why myheart is so heavy! Cannot we do anything to save him?"

  This last question was addressed to the young chief, who had been aserious listener to all that Jamie had just said, for the Indians takedreams very seriously, and treat them as messages from the Manitou.

  "The Grey Badger is a great hunter, and his rifle has often left itsmark upon the Algonquins, as well as the bear and the panther. Red menno kill him quickly. He is too great a prize. They will keep him tillthe new moon, and then kill him," replied the Indian.

  "When is the new moon?" asked Red Feather hastily.

  "Two days!"

  "And when will our friends arrive?"

  The young chief made the circle of the sun's course twice, and thenpointed to the zenith.

  "Then there is just a chance that we may be able to save him after all."

  "Yes. For why should the Wacondah speak a lie?" said the Indianearnestly.

  "What do you mean? I don't understand you!"

  "Why, Jamie, it's as clear as noon-day what he means. He says, 'Whyshould the Wacondah speak a lie?' That is, if the Great Spirit has putit into your heart to save this paleface hunter, why should he withholdthe means to do it, when He is all-powerful? The lad's faith in his Godis greater than your own. So cheer up, and we'll save him yet, or we'llknow the reason why."

  "Young Eagle, I thank you. You have lifted a load from my heart, andyour faith is greater than mine, though I have been bred in a Christiancountry," said Jamie.

  "Ugh! My paleface brother has often told me of the sacred writings inthe land of the sun-rising, and how the Great Spirit has spoken to hiswhite children; why, then, should he disbelieve the words of theWacondah?"

  This conversation was suddenly interrupted by an Indian whoop, whichseemed to come from the distant camp.

  "What can that mean? Listen! There it comes again," said Jack. Thistime it was repeated from several quarters.

  "It simply means that they have been joined by another party of theirfriends," said the Indian.

  "What can they be doing so far away from their own hunting-grounds?"

  "Depend upon it, they are here for no good. They're out for scalps, andto harass their inveterate foes, the Iroquois, and any Yengeese woodsmenthey can lay hands upon."

  "Must we remain here, like rats in a hole, Young Eagle? Is therenothing that we can do?" said Jack.

  "Yes! We must watch all their movements, and if they move, follow them,leaving a broad trail that White Eagle can follow in the dark."

  "Lead the way, then, Eagle, and we'll follow your trail."

  Then they crept stealthily from their lair, and cautiously advancedthrough the tangled forest, in the direction of the camp, for now thatthe enemy were excited by the arrival of their allies perhaps they wouldbe a little off their guard.

  Soon they struck the trail that they had seen on the previous evening,and followed it carefully; sometimes creeping on their hands and knees,crawling through the brushwood, watching furtively the while for anysigns of the outlying scouts who were sure to be guarding the camp.

  Suddenly the hiss of a serpent caused them to start. It came from thedirection of the young Indian, who was but a few paces in advance, andwas the signal for them to halt and lie still. Immediately they becameas dead logs, hugging the ground.

  Had the Eagle seen the first scout?

  Yes, surely! What was that dark object creeping through the forest, notfifty yards away? Was it not the skulking form of a redskin prowlingabout like a wolf, and all the while coming nearer and nearer. He hadevidently not seen them as yet, for he still continued to approach, buthe seemed so wary and so alert that if he continued he must discoverthem within another minute. Jamie covered him with his rifle, but hewas too wise to shoot, unless all other measures failed, as the crack ofa rifle so near the camp would alarm the whole party and bring theAlgonquins upon them in a moment.

  Slowly, slowly the seconds passed, and each one seemed in itself an age.They scarcely dared to breathe, lest the slightest sound or movementshould attract the attention of the scout.

  He was only ten paces from the young chief when he halted, as though hissuspicions had been aroused. He was looking full in the direction ofhis enemies, when some fluttering object in a bush, near the Iroquoislad, caught his attention. He would examine that particular bush beforegiving the alarm, so he advanced cautiously, looking warily around him.

  He was a young warrior, perhaps out for his first scalp. How kingly itwould be to return to the camp with a scalp at his girdle, and withoutboasting, quietly to take his place at the council fire, while all eyeswere fixed upon that trophy which he had won, unaided and alone.

  The dark-eyed Indian maidens, too--how they would glance at him withlove-lit eyes and point out
the trophy, and sing of his courage when hereturned home. Perhaps these thoughts were in his mind as he approachedthe bush. One thing, however, he must avoid, that was, creating a falsealarm and thereby making himself a laughing-stock amongst his comradesby mistaking a tree or a log for an enemy.

  This temerity cost him dear. To reach the bush which had aroused hissuspicions, he had to pass within a few feet of Young Eagle. As he didso, the latter made a sudden bound, like a panther springing upon hisprey, and cleft his skull with his keen hatchet.

  Without a groan even, the Algonquin sank to the ground, and his spiritpassed to the hunting-grounds of his people. The youths turned theirfaces away, whilst the young chief secured his first scalp. Havingobtained this trophy, he next dragged the lifeless form of the scoutinto the forest and hid it away amongst the bushes, lest its discoveryshould bring down upon them a swarm of hornets, in the shape of theinmates of the neighbouring camp. Then he proudly retraced his steps inthe direction of his companions, who were eagerly awaiting his return.

  "Was it well done, Young Eagle, to risk all our lives and our chances ofsaving the hunter for a single scalp?" asked Jamie, who felt somehowthat his redskin friend might have left the scalp alone, for thepresent, at any rate, forgetting in his anxiety to save the palefacethat an Indian will go without food willingly for a whole week in orderto obtain one scalp.

  "Young Eagle is a warrior! He saw only an Algonquin dog!"

  "But prudence is a virtue, even in a great warrior!"

  "Let him alone, Jamie. For an Indian to leave an enemy's scalp behindis a disgrace, and just as dishonourable as for a paleface to leave hisensign in the hands of the enemy," said Jack.

  Their present position was one of great danger, though for the momentthe death of the scout had reduced the chances of their beingdiscovered. Nevertheless, their only chance to avoid the enemy was tofind a spot where they could lie hidden till dark, for the scout wouldbe sure to be missed shortly, and then a search would be made for him.

  A spot was found not twenty yards away, on the edge of a little rivuletthat ran through the forest. They, therefore, took a circuitous routeto this stream, and then walked cautiously down the bed of the rivulet,so that the water would wash away their footprints in the sandy bottom.Having gained this secluded spot, they were hidden from sight of anapproaching enemy, owing to the branches of the willows and aldersdrooping to the ground and meeting the tangled undergrowth, and theycould yet watch the surrounding forest through the interstices of thebranches.

  Here they lay hidden during the rest of that day. As the afternoon woreon they several times heard the whoops and yells of the Algonquins, andonce they heard the report of a rifle, and Jamie feared that it denotedthe end of the paleface prisoner, but the young chief said that that wasvery unlikely.

  This close confinement at length became very irksome, and the youthswere so wearied and impatient that it needed all the influence andsagacity of the Indian to urge them to remain till sunset. How wisethis counsel was will shortly be seen.

  "Hist! What does that mean, Young Eagle?" said Jamie, when rather latein the afternoon a sound very much like the "cawing" of a rook was heardto proceed from a spot scarce a hundred yards away. No answer wasgiven, and the sound was repeated twice; each time it sounded a littlenearer.

  The Indian did not speak, for he was keenly scrutinising the forest inthe direction of the sound, and at the same time unconsciously fingeringhis tomahawk, while his every sense seemed alert.

  "'Tis another scout who seems to expect a reply from his fallen comrade,I fear, Jamie," said Jack, "and he can't understand why he gets noanswer."

  "Ah! He is becoming suspicious. He is searching for him,and--and--he's coming this way," whispered Jamie.

  "Look! I can see him now through the trees. What if he finds his deadcomrade? Hist! He's looking this way."

  Nearer and nearer came the Algonquin. He was within forty yards now,and within twenty feet of where his companion had been slain. Suddenlyhe started and a half-smothered exclamation escaped his lips. He waslooking at the ground, examining it carefully. He knelt down andcarefully removed the turf and leaves, raising his head every fewseconds, as though expecting to see his comrade.

  Had he discovered a trail, or something worse? He was only thirty feetaway from the mangled corpse of the first scout. He was only ten feetaway from the spot where the death-blow had been given. It was thetrail of his lost comrade that he had discovered, but what next?

  It was a moment fraught with intense excitement for the watchers. Theissues to these three adventurers were life or death. Once hediscovered the truth that was hidden in those bushes, a single call forassistance would fill the forest with blood-thirsty hornets, and allwould be lost.

  What could be done? He was too far away to be dispatched like hiscomrade, and a rifle-shot would alarm the camp. Step by step headvanced. Then his eager eyes caught sight of the fresh blood-marks andevidences of the recent scuffle.

  The Indian gazed at the red spots, and followed their trail to thebushes. Then, as his eyes caught sight of the mangled corpse, heuttered a blood-curdling yell that made the dark aisles of the forestresound. At the same instant Jamie's rifle spoke out, and the Indianfell to the ground.

  Five seconds had scarcely passed when from the camp there came theanswering yell. It was a wild, fierce cry of revenge that brought thewhole pack upon their trail.