The Black Eagle; or, Ticonderoga

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XLIII.

  We must go back, for a very short time, to the spot where Edith andher Oneida captors set out upon what proved to them an unfortunatevoyage across Lake Champlain, and to the very moment after their canoehad left the shore. The Long House of the Five Nations, as they werepleased to call their territory, extended from the Great Lakes and apoint far west, to the banks of the Hudson, and Lakes Horicon andChamplain; but, as is always the case in border countries, thefrontier was often crossed by wandering or predatory bands, and byoutlaws from the Hurons and other nations under the sway of France, orfrom the Iroquois tribes attached to England. The peculiar habits andlaws of the Indian tribes rendered the incorporation of fugitives withother nations a very easy matter, although the language of the FiveNations would seem to be radically different from that of the tribesoriginally inhabiting the seaboard of America. Thus, on the westernshore of Lake Champlain, not a few pure Hurons were to be found; and,indeed, that tribe, during the successful campaigns of France againstEngland, with which what is called the French and Indian warcommenced, had somewhat encroached upon the Iroquois territory,supported in their daring by the redoubted name of Montcalm.

  With some of these, it would seem, Apukwa and his companions hadentered into a sort of tacit alliance; and towards their dwellingsthey had directed their steps after their attack upon Edith and herlittle escort, in the expectation of readily finding a canoe to waftthem over the lake. At first, they had been disappointed; for thebarques which had been there the day before were gone; and when theydid find the canoe in which they ultimately commenced their voyage,the avaricious old man to whom it belonged would not let them use itwithout a world of bargaining; and it cost them a considerable portionof the little stock of ornaments and trinkets which they had found inEdith's plundered baggage, before the Huron consented to lend thatwhich they did not dare to take by force.

  Thus, more than an hour was passed after they reached the lake-shorebefore they departed; and their taking their course so boldly acrossthe bows of the French boats was more a matter of necessity thanchoice, although they little doubted a good reception from theinveterate enemies of England. The moment, however, that the canoe hadshot out into the water, a tall, dark woman emerged from the bushes ofthe low point under which the skiff had lain, and began wringing herhands with every appearance of grief and anxiety.

  "Oh, what will poor massa do?" she cried, in a piteous voice; "whatwill poor massa do? Him son killed: him daughter stolen, and Chandotomahawked. Ah, me! ah, me! what will we all do?"

  Her imprudent burst of grief had nearly proved destructive to poorSister Bab. The old Huron had turned him quietly towards a smallbirch-bark cabin in the forest hard by, and would never have remarkedthe poor negress if she had confined the expression of her cares tomere gesture; but her moans and exclamations caught the quick ear ofthe savage, and he turned and saw her plainly gazing after the canoe.

  With no other provocation than a taste for blood, he stole gentlythrough the trees with the soft, gliding, noiseless motion peculiar tohis race; and making a circuit so as to conceal his advance, camebehind the poor creature just as she beheld the canoe which bore awayher young mistress, stopped and surrounded by the little flotilla ofthe French.

  Another moment would have been fatal to her (for the Indian was withinthree yards), when a large rattlesnake suddenly raised itself in hispath, and made him recoil a step. Whether it was the small, butnever-to-be-forgotten, sound of the reptile's warning, or some noisemade by the Huron in suddenly drawing back, the poor negress turnedher head, and saw her danger.

  With a wild scream, she darted away towards the lake. The savagesprang after with a yell; and, though old, he retained much of theIndian lightness of foot. Onward towards the shore he drove her,meditating each moment to throw his hatchet, if she turned to theright or left.

  But Sister Bab was possessed of qualities which would not havedisgraced any of his own tribe; and, even while running at her utmostspeed, she contrived continually to deprive him of his aim. Not atree, not a shrub, not a heap of stone, that did not afford her amomentary shelter; and of every inequality of the ground she tookadvantage. Now she whirled sharply round the little shoulder of thehill; now, as the tomahawk was just balanced to be thrown with morefatal certainty, she sprang down a bank which almost made the Indianpause. Then she plunged head-foremost like a snake through the thickbrushwood, and again appeared in a different spot from that where hehad expected to see her.

  Still, however, he was driving her towards the lake, at a spot wherethe shores were open, and where he felt certain of overtaking her.Nevertheless, on she went to the very verge of the lake, gazed to theright and left, and, seeing, with apparent consternation, that thebanks rounded themselves on both sides, forming a little bay, near thecentre of which she stood, she paused for a single instant, as if indespair. The Huron sprang after with a wild whoop, grasping thetomahawk firmly to strike the fatal blow.

  But Sister Bab was not yet in his power; and, with a bold leap, shesprang from the ledge into the water. Her whole form instantlydisappeared; and, for at least a minute, her savage pursuer stoodgazing at the lake in surprise and disappointment, when, suddenly hesaw a black object appear at the distance of twenty or thirty yards,and as suddenly sink again. A few moments after, it rose once more,still further out; and then the brave woman was seen striking easilyaway towards the south.

  Rendered only more eager by the chase, and more fierce bydisappointment, the Huron ran swiftly along the shore, thinking thathe could easily tire her out or cut her off; but, in sunny waters, infar distant lands, she had sported with the waves, in infancy; and,taking the chord of the bow where he was compelled to take the arc,she gained from distance what she lost in speed. So calm was she, socool, that, turning her eyes from her pursuer, she gazed over thewater in the direction where she had seen her beloved young mistresscarried, and had the satisfaction of beholding the canoe in which shewas towed along by one of the French boats. Why she rejoiced, shehardly knew, for her notions on such matters were not very definite;but anything seemed better than to remain in the hands of themurderers of poor Chando.

  Her thoughts were still of Edith; and she asked herself,--

  "Where are they taking her to, I wonder? Perhaps I may come up withthem, if that red-skin would but leave off running along by the shore,and let me land, and cross the narrow point. He may run, thedevil-foot! He can't catch Bab. I'll dive again. He think herdrowned."

  Her resolution was instantly executed; and--whether it was that herstratagem was successful, or that the Huron had less than Indianperseverance, and gave up the chase--when she rose again, she saw himturning towards the woods, as if about to go back to his lodge. ButBab had learned caution, and she pursued her way towards the smallpeninsula where stood the French fort of Crown Point, which, at theperiod I speak of, had been nearly stripped of its garrison toreinforce Ticonderoga.

  She chose her spot, however, with great care; for, though in herwanderings she had made herself well acquainted with the country, shewas, of course, ignorant of the late movements of the troops, andfancied that the French posts extended as far beyond the walls of thefortress as they had formerly done. A little woody island, hardlyseparated from the main land, covered her approach; and the moment herfeet touched the shore, she darted away into the forest, and took thetrail which led nearly due south. The neck of the point was soonpassed; and once more she caught sight of the French boats stilltowing the canoe on which her thoughts so pertinaciously rested.

  The short detention of the French party, and the advantage she gainedby her direct course across the point, had put her a little inadvance; and she ran rapidly on till she reached the mouth of thesmall river, now called Putnam's Creek, which, being flooded by thetorrents of rain which had fallen in the earlier part of the day, madeher pause for a moment, gazing at the rushing and eddying waterscoming down, and doubting whether she had strength left to swim acrossit.

  The boats, by this time, w
ere somewhat in advance; and, when she gazedafter them, she naturally came to the conclusion that they were boundfor what she called, after the Indian fashion, Cheeconderoga.

  Suddenly, however, as she watched, she saw their course altered; andit soon became evident that they intended to land considerably northof the fort. Running up the creek, then, till she found a place whereshe could pass, she followed an Indian trail through the woods lying alittle to the west of the present line of road, and at length reachedan eminence nearly opposite to Shoreham--a spur of Mount Hope, infact, where she once more saw the lake just in time to catch a view ofthe disembarkation of the French troops and the Indians.

  Notwithstanding her great strength, the poor negress was, by thistime, exceedingly tired; still, that persevering love which is one ofthe brightest traits of her unfortunate race, carried her on.

  "If I can but catch sight of them again," she thought, "before night Ican carry old massa tidings of where she be."

  Encouraged by this idea, she pushed on without pause. But nightovertook her before she had seen any more of the party; and poor Bab'sspirit began to fail. More slowly she went, somewhat doubtful of herway; and, in the solitude, the darkness, and the intricacy of thewoods, fears began to creep over her which were not familiar to herbosom.

  At length, however, she thought she heard voices at a distance; and, aminute or two after, found herself on the banks of a small brook. Shepaused and listened; the voices were now distinct; and, withouthesitation, she crossed, and crept cautiously along in the directionfrom which the sounds came. A moment or two after, the flickering of afire through the trees attracted her attention; and more and morecarefully she stole on upon her hands and knees through the low brush,still seeing the blaze of the firelight when she raised her eyes, butunable to perceive the spot whence it proceeded. A small pine cut downthen met her hand as she crept along, and then a number of loosebranches tossed together. And now sister Bab began to get an inklingof the truth.

  "It must be what dey call an ambush," she thought; and, raisingherself gently, she found that she was close to a bank of earth, overwhich the firelight was streaming. The sounds of voices were nowdistinctly heard; but she could not understand a syllable, for itseemed to her that they were speaking in two different languages, ifnot more, and each of them was strange to her. At one time, shefancied she heard Edith's voice; still, the language spoken was astrange one; and, although the bank of earth was not more thanshoulder-high, she did not venture at first to rise to her wholestature in order to look over.

  At length, however, came some words of English; and the voice whichshe judged to be Edith's was plainly heard, saying,--

  "This gentleman is asking you, my good friend, if you will not go andtake some supper with him where the people have spread a clothyonder."

  Bab could resist no more, but raised herself sufficiently to bring hereyes above the top of the breastwork, and gazed over into the littlerude redoubt. On the right, and at the further part of the enclosure,were a number of Indians, seated on the ground; and, besides the firealready burning, several others were being piled up amidst the variousgroups of natives. Somewhat on the left, and stretching well nighacross the western side of the open space, were the French soldiers,in groups of five or six, with their arms piled near them. Otherstraggling parties were scattered over the ground; and two sentinels,each with musket on shoulder, appeared on the other side of theredoubt.

  But the group which attracted the poor woman's chief attention was oneon the left, near a spot where some small huts had been erected. Itconsisted of three persons--a gaily-dressed French officer, a man inthe garb of a soldier, but with his weapons cast aside, and, lastly, apowerful man in a yellowish-brown hunting-shirt, whom sister Babinstantly recognized as her old acquaintance, the Woodchuck. Thatsight was quite enough; and, sinking again amongst the bushes, shecrept slowly away to a little distance, and there lay down to meditateas to what was next to be done.

  At one time she was tempted to enter the French redoubt, and remainwith her young mistress. Several considerations seemed in favour ofthis course; and let it be no imputation upon poor Bab, that hunger,and the savoury odours which came wafted over the earthwork, were notwithout their influence. But then she thought,--"If I do, how will oldmassa ever know where missy is?"

  And this remembrance enabled her to resist the strong temptation.

  "I will stay here and rest till de moon get up," thought the poorwoman. "I know dey must be coming up de lake by dis time, and I cancatch dem before to-morrow."

  To prevent herself from sleeping too long, if slumber should overtakeher, she crept further out of the thick wood, and seated herself in amore open spot, with her clasped hands over her knees, but withnothing else to support her. Various sorts of fears suggestedthemselves to her mind, as she thus sat; but oppressive weariness wasmore powerful than thought, and in a few moments her head was nodding.Often she woke up at first; but then she slept more profoundly,bending forward till her forehead actually rested on her knees. It isprobable, too, that she dreamed, for, in the course of the next twohours, several broken sentences issued from her lips in a low murmur.At length, however, she woke with a start, and found the moonsilvering the whole sky to the eastward, though some bold heights,towering up, still obscured the face of the orb of night.

  Bab sat and gazed, somewhat bewildered, and hardly knowing where shewas. But the musical voice of the falling waters, which has gained forthe outlet of Lake Horicon an ever-enduring name, and the grandoutline of Mount Defiance seen through the trees, soon showed her thatshe was on that narrow point of land lying between Trout Brook and theFalls. She waited till the moon had fully risen, and then stolequietly away again, keeping a south-western course nearly up thecurrent of the brook, and for three hours she pursued her way with arapid and untiring foot. She had no idea of the time, and wondered ifthe day would never break; but the moonlight was beautifully clear,and the calm beams, as if they had some affinity with the woodlandsolitude, seemed to penetrate through the branches and green leaves,even more easily than was usual with the sunshine.

  Bab's fears had now nearly passed away; for she knew that she must befar beyond the French and Huron posts, and could only expect to meeteither with the scouts and outposts of the English army, or withparties of Indians, and she consequently went on without care orprecaution. Suddenly she found herself emerging from the wood into oneof those low open savannahs, of which I have already spoken, close tothe spot where the embers of a fire were still glowing. The grass wassoft, and her tread was light, but the sleep of the Indian is lighterstill; and, in an instant, three or four warriors started up aroundher.

  "I am a friend, I am a friend!" cried the negress, in the Iroquoistongue. "Who are you? Mohawks?"

  "Children of the Stone," replied the man nearest to her, gazing at herearnestly by the moonlight. "I have seen the Black Cloud before. Doesshe not dwell in the house of our brother Prevost?"

  "Yes, yes!" cried Sister Bab, eagerly. "I'm his slave girl, Bab, whocame to the Oneida Castle with my own missy. But now she is theprisoner of bad men; and I have escaped, tired and hungry, and amnearly dead."

  "Come with me," said the Indian; "I will take thee where thou shalthave rest to comfort thee, and meat to support thee, till the BlackEagle comes. He will not be long, for he will keep the war-path nightand day till he is here; and his wings are swift."

  The poor woman shuddered at the name, of the terrible chief, for itwas closely connected in her mind with the circumstances of her youngmaster's fate; but, wearied and exhausted, the prospect of food andrepose was a blessing, and she followed him in silence to the otherside of the savannah.