CHAPTER XVI
LE GRAND DIABLE SENDS BACK OUR MESSENGER
Father Holland advised caution and consideration before acting. A policyof bargaining was his counsel.
"I don't like those terms, at all," he said, "too much like giving yourweapons to the enemy. I don't like all this."
He would temporize and rely on Le Grand Diable's covetous dispositionbringing him to our terms; but Hamilton would hear of neither cautionnor delay.
The ransom price was at once collected. Next morning, Little Fellow, ona fresh mount with a string of laden horses on each side, went posthaste back to the Sioux.
In all conscience, Hamilton had been wild enough during the firstparley. His excitement now exceeded all bounds. The first two days, whenthere was no possibility of Miriam's coming and Little Fellow could notyet have reached the Sioux, I tore after Eric so often I lost count ofthe races between our lodge and the north hill. The performance beganagain on the third day, and I broke out with a piece of my mind, whichsurprised him mightily.
"Look you here, Hamilton!" I exclaimed, rounding him back from the hill,"Can't you stop this nonsense and sit still for only two days more, ormust I tie you up? You've tried to put me crazy all winter and, by Jove,if you don't stop this, you'll finish the job----"
He gazed at me with the dumb look of a wounded animal and was too amazedfor words. Leaving me in mid-road, feeling myself a brute, he wentstraight to his own hut. After that incident, he gave us no furtheranxiety and kept an iron grip on his impatience. With me, anger hadgiven place to contrition. He remained much by himself until the night,when our messengers were expected. Then he came across to my quarters,where Father Holland and I were keyed up to the highest pitch. Puttingout his hand he said--
"Is it all right with us again, Rufus, old man?"
That speech nigh snapped the strained cords.
"Of course," said I, gripping the extended hand, and I immediatelycoughed hard, to explain away the undue moisture welling into my eyes.
We all three sat as still and silent as a death-watch, Father Hollandfumbling and pretending to pore over some holy volume, Eric with fingerstightly interlaced and upper teeth biting through lower lip, and I withclenched fists dug into jacket pockets and a thousand imaginary soundssinging wild tunes in my ears.
How the seconds crawled, and the minutes barely moved, and the hoursseemed to heap up in a blockade and crush us with their leaden weight!Twice I sought relief for pent emotion by piling wood on the fire,though the night was mild, and by breaking the glowing embers into ashower of sparks. The soft, moccasined tread of Mandanes past our doorstartled Father Holland so that his book fell to the floor, while Ishook like a leaf. Strange to say, Hamilton would not allow himself theluxury of a single movement, though the lowered brows tightened andteeth cut deeper into the under lip.
Dogs set up a barking at the other end of the village--a common enoughoccurrence where half-starved curs roved in packs--but I could notrefrain from lounging with a show of indifference to the doorway, whereI peered through the moon-silvered dusk. As usual, the Indians withshrill cry flew at the dogs to silence them. The noise seemed to beannoying my companions and was certainly unnerving me, so I shut thedoor and walked back to the fire.
The howl of dogs and squaws increased. I heard the angry undertone ofmen's voices. A hoarse roar broke from the Mandane lodges and rolledthrough the village like the sweep of coming hurricane. There was afleet rush, a swift pattering of something pursued running round therear of our lodge, with a shrieking mob of men and squaws after it. Thedogs were barking furiously and snapping at the heels of the thing,whatever it was.
"A hostile!" exclaimed Hamilton, leaping up.
Hardly knowing what I did, I bounded towards the door and shot forwardthe bolt, with a vague fear that blood might be spilled on ourthreshold.
"For shame, man!" cried Father Holland, making to undo the latch.
But the words had not passed his lips when the parchment flap of thewindow lifted. A voice screamed through the opening and in hurtled around, nameless, blood-soaked horror, rolling over and over in a redtrail, till it stopped with upturned, dead, glaring eyes and hideous,gaping mouth, at the very feet of Hamilton.
It was the scalpless head of La Robe Noire. Our Indian had paid theprice of his own blood-lust and Diable's enmity.
Before the full enormity of the treachery--messengers murdered andmutilated, ransom stolen and captives kept--had dawned on me, FatherHolland had broken open the door. He was rushing through the nightscreaming for the Mandanes to catch the miscreant Sioux. When I turnedback, not daring to look at that awful object, Hamilton had fallen tothe hut floor in a dead faint.
* * * * *
And now may I be spared recalling what occurred on that terrible night!
Women luxuriate and men traffic in the wealth of the great west, but howmany give one languid thought to the years of bloody deeds by which thewest was won?
* * * * *
Before restoring Hamilton, it was necessary to remove that which wasunseemly; also to wash out certain stains on the hearth-stones; andthose things would have tried the courage of more iron-nerved men thanmyself.
I should not have been surprised if Eric had come out of that faint, agibbering maniac; but I toiled over him with the courage of blankhopelessness, pumping his arms up and down, forcing liquor between theclenched teeth, splashing the cold, clammy face with water, and lavinghis forehead. At last he opened his eyes wearily. Like a man ill at easewith life, moaning, he turned his face to the wall.
Outside, it was as if the unleashed furies of hell fought to quenchtheir thirst in human blood. The clamor of those red demons was in myears and I was still working over Hamilton, loosening his jacket collar,under-pillowing his chest, fanning him, and doing everything else Icould think of, to ease his labored breathing, when Father Holland burstinto the lodge, utterly unmanned and sobbing like a child.
"For the Lord's sake, Rufus," he cried, "for the Lord's sake, come andhelp! They're murdering him! They're murdering him! 'Twas I who set themon him, and I can't stop them! I can't stop them!"
"Let them murder him!" I returned, unconsciously demonstrating that thecivilized heart differs only in degree from the barbarian.
"Come, Rufus," he pleaded, "come, for the love of Frances, or your handswill not be clean. There'll be blood on your hands when you go back toher. Come, come!"
Out we rushed through the thronging Mandanes, now riotous with the lustof blood. A ring of young bucks had been formed round the Sioux to keepthe crowd off. Naked, with arms pinioned, the victim stood motionlessand without fear.
"Good white father, he no understand," said the Mandanes, jostling theweeping priest back from the circle of the young men. "Good whitefather, he go home!" In spite of protest by word and act they roughlyshoved us to our lodge, the doomed man's death chant ringing in our earsas they pushed us inside and clashed our door. In vain we had arguedthey would incur the vengeance of the Sioux nation. Our voices weredrowned in the shout for blood--for blood!
The sigh of the wind brought mournful strains of the victim's dirge toour lodge. I fastened the door, with robes against it to keep the soundout. Then a smell of burning drifted through the window, and Istop-gapped that, too, with more robes.
* * * * *
That the Sioux would wreak swift vengeance could not be doubted. As soonas the murderous work was over, guides were with difficulty engaged.Having fitted up a sort of prop in which I could tie Hamilton to thesaddle, I saw both Father Holland and Eric set out for Red River beforedaybreak.
It was best they should go and I remain. If Miriam were still in thecountry, stay I would, till she were safe; but I had no mind to see Ericgo mad or die before the rescue could be accomplished.
As they were leaving I took a piece of birch bark. On it I wrote with acharred stick:--
"Greetings to my own dear love
from her ever loyal and devoted knight."
This, Father Holland bore to Frances Sutherland from me.
Lords of the North Page 18
