How Canada Was Won: A Tale of Wolfe and Quebec

by F. S. Brereton

  Chapter XI

  Held Up!

  It was with very mixed feelings that Steve and his band of hunters andscouts watched the coming of the French and their Indians, for as thelight grew stronger and they were able to see somewhat better, theymade out that two hundred at least of the enemy were marching acrossthe snow-clad lake.

  "And there air the guns, boys," said Jim, as if he had beencalculating their chances. "Up here we've a fort so to speak, andit'll take them braves a time to storm it. The French'll lead 'em, andthey air the ones we must keep a watch on. Ef them gunners get therange, and can pop in a few shots, there'll be a muss."

  "If we are good enough to allow them to keep at the game," said Steveslowly. "Granted that they get the range, and make out the frontface of this place, well, we must do something to prevent them fromknocking us to pieces."

  "A sortie, Cap'n?" asked Pete, standing beside his young leader, andlooking unusually bulky and formidable on this clear, frosty morning."Ef that's the order, you can put me down. A bit o' runnin' wouldsuit me. It's cold here for fingers and toes."

  "We will see," responded Steve, still with his eyes fixed on theadvancing enemy. "Meanwhile, I vote that we select our cooks and getsome breakfast. A man can do better when he's had a meal. Stir thefire, boys, and who are the ones to look to our food?"

  He stepped inside the shelter again, and ran his eyes round the menwhose figures were lit up still by the fire, for now that a heavy fallof snow had covered their rough roof and the front wall, it was verydark inside. There were twenty-seven men in all, for he had obtainedseveral recruits at the fort on the previous day. Seth and another atonce put their hands up.

  "I ain't been trappin' and fightin' all these days without knowin' abit about a cooking pot," said the former with a grin. "Put me andAdam here on to the job, Cap'n, and we'll do our best. A man can't domore."

  "'Cept fight and pull a trigger whenever there's critters to be shot,"laughed his comrade. "That air a bargain, ain't it, Cap'n? We cook forthe company, and we does our share with the muskets. 'Twouldn't befair to bring us out here to do what chaps from the coast and townscould manage just as well."

  "You may take my word for it. You shall have a full share of thefighting," laughed Steve. "Get to at breakfast then, while we discussthe other matter."

  A little later all were seated about the fire once more, discussinga savoury stew of bear's meat, which had been left simmering most ofthe night. And as they sat and ate, Silver Fox, vigilant as always,crouched in the opening to this the strangest of forts, and watchedthe enemy.

  "They are out of sight, Hawk," he said at length, turning and crawlingto Steve. "The forests cover them for a while. Soon they will be here."

  "Then now is the time. Get to work," cried Steve.

  The band broke up at once, and leaving their muskets, crept for themost part through the opening. For they had work to do outside, andnow was their opportunity to accomplish it while the trees hid themfrom the enemy. Gathering outside, they piled a wall of snow at thefoot of the barrier which filled in the front face of their fort,while some inside took stout stakes and rammed them through theinterlaced branches and their thick covering of snow till apertureswere left through which a man might thrust a musket barrel and takegood aim. Moreover, these openings were at such a height from thefloor of the fort that those who made use of them could see to fireover the wall which those outside were busily erecting.

  "They are for use if we are driven inside," said Steve, as he watchedthe men at work. "Now, boys, run the wall as far out on the right asyou can, and make openings in it also. We must do all we can to upsetthe calculations of the enemy, for it would not do for us to fire fromthe opening of our retreat in the first instance."

  Using their hands for the most part, or a thick bough, the trappersswept the deep snow which lay on the rocky ridge into a wall somethree feet high, and now that that portion directly in front of thehollow was completed, they pushed on with the work to the right ofthe fort, where the hummock or rock ran on without interruption,presenting a ledge some ten feet wide, which was perfectly level. Tothe left the rock fell away suddenly just outside the hollow, and itwould have been impossible to erect even a narrow wall.

  "Reckon that air a good idea of yours, Cap'n," said Pete, as he beatthe snow with his hands to make it bind firmly together. "When themcritters gets out'er the trees and makes for the hollow, the snow'llpuzzle 'em a little, and they won't be properly sure whereabouts themouth of the hollow lies. Chances air that not a one of 'em's everset foot in it. They've likely enough looked up here a score of timesjest in the ordinary way of scoutin'. But that won't help 'em much,particular when the hul place is changed by the snow."

  "Just what I thought," answered Steve. "If we were to open fire frombehind the wall erected just in front of the hollow, the smoke wouldgive our position away to them at once, and they would soon send theircannon balls plumping into the place. As it is, we can crawl awaybehind the wall till we are well to the right, and there----"

  "Reckon cannon balls don't do much harm against rock, Cap'n," burst inJim. "The only thing now is to be careful that them critters don't seeus at work as they come out of the trees. Best call some of 'em in."

  By now the wall which Steve had planned was almost completed, andhe at once followed Jim's advice. The majority of the trappers weredirected to lie down behind that portion which stood in front of thehollow, while the red-bearded Mac, Pete, and four others went on withthe projection to the right, for there it would not matter much ifthey were seen. However, it is no easy matter to drag guns through aforest where the ground is rough and covered deeply with snow, andan hour more had passed before the head of the enemy's force emergedfrom the screen of trees which had hidden them from Steve and his men,and which had equally hidden the band of trappers from the French andtheir bloodthirsty Indians. When they did at length emerge, filing outfrom the mottled background one by one, Steve's men were in readiness.Those who were advancing to attack them could see only an eminence,getting steeper as it neared the top, and then suddenly erecting a bighummock, in which lay the hollow so strangely converted into a fort.Many had looked at this spot before, just as they did at other partsof the surrounding country in their daily search for stragglers andwoodcutters from Fort William Henry. They had a general idea of itsconformation, but the heavy fall of snow upset their calculations.They stared at the rise, looking in vain for the hollow and for sightof the trappers.

  "Strange," exclaimed their leader, a tall French officer, who waswrapped in a fur coat, and whose head and ears were muffled in a thickskin cap.

  "We had information that they went there last night. Our scout told usthat they were busy cutting wood and roofing in some hollow. He sawthat it was about to snow, and fearful of losing his way in the storm,he made back to the fort. But the same storm will have kept thesetrappers here, unless--unless."

  "Unless they should have crept away this morning," said his subalternquickly. "I will give an order to the Indians. The Hurons will tell uswhether they are there or not."

  A nod told him that he had his captain's permission, and within aminute a dozen blanketed forms had slid ahead of the force. Steve sawthem toss their blankets to their comrades, and then, like hounds onthe trail, their heads went closer to the snow-covered ground, theirshoulders bent, and, separating, the Huron Indians went off across thesnow at the edge of the forest at a pace which would have taxed thestrength of the strongest European.

  "Them cusses'll make round the place within a quarter of an hour, andef a fox had made out, I reckon they'd know," growled Seth, as hewatched from an embrasure. "My advice is lie low and puzzle 'em. Give'em a chance to crawl nearer."

  Steve gave a low whistle at once, while he lay at full length staringthrough an embrasure at the enemy below. And within a little while Jimand Pete and Mac were beside him. They came crawling along the clearedground behind the wall, and presently were seated beside their youngleader. As for the French and their Indians
, they had seen not so muchas a sign of the movement. For Steve was 'cute, and had the advantageof possessing trained trappers. When building their wall not a man haddared to step to the outside of it. They had taken the snow and thrownor swept it to their front, so that on the outside there was not somuch as a mark. Then the two hours' labour had enabled them to run thewall some thirty yards to the right, while behind it there was a roughgallery, along which any man could crawl unseen.

  "Now, boys," said Steve, as they threw themselves at his feet, "Ipropose that we take Seth's advice. We'll lie still as foxes till theybegin to think that we have gone. Let them send their Indians up here,and all wait till I give a signal. That will be the best way in whichto meet them. And in any case we all fire from the extreme right ofthe wall, unless they get so close that a rush is possible. Then wewill collect. Has every man plenty of ammunition?"

  "Heaps, Cap'n," answered Jim, "and the boys know what's to happen.In case they don't, we'll give 'em a warnin'. All are to wait for thesignal."

  They went crawling back to their stations on hands and knees, andpresently Steve joined them at the extreme right of the wall. Here,within a space of ten yards, the whole band was collected, each manstretched full length on the rock and snow, his eye to a loophole, hishead well hidden by the wall of snow, and his musket ready beside him.All were wrapped in rough fur coats, for the most part made of skinswhich they themselves had collected. Big, warm coon-skin caps coveredtheir heads and ears, while each man had a pair of sack gloves securedto his neck by long strips of doe skin, so that he might discard thecovering at any moment and move from his position without losing hisgloves. Indeed this was a plan generally adopted in Canada and Americain those days, and one which we know was made use of by the Japanesein their recent war with Russia.

  Meanwhile the enemy had halted on the fringe of the encircling forest,and stood there about the guns, within six hundred yards of theirobject. And as they stood the twelve Huron Indians stole softly awayover the snow, till at length they had completely covered the circle.There was a movement then amongst their comrades, and presently theteams of men hauling the guns strained at the tackle, and dragged theponderous weapons into the forest. At the same time a hundred of theIndians broke from the ranks with wild whoops, and began to movetowards the mound.

  "They know as well as we do that we're here," growled Jim, as hestared through his loophole. "Them critters'll come within range jestto tempt us. But they won't dare to rush right up. Trust 'em for that.They ain't much good at chargin', and no Injun's goin' to throw awayhis life for nothin'."

  "The French will give them a lead perhaps," said Steve. "When theyfind that we do not move, and their own Indians will not approachcloser, it is probable that they will come themselves to see whetherwe are actually here."

  "Jest because no Frenchie, and no white man for the matter of that,who ain't had experience hisself can believe the 'cuteness of theInjuns, Cap'n. Some of 'em who air new to the backwoods and to thetrail, reckon they're mighty 'cute theirselves when they've been amonth only in the country. They don't reckon that nothin', not eventhe print of a bird escapes the eye of a brave. Ef they do give theInjuns a lead, why----"

  "It's our turn, boys," sang out Mac. "Sure, haven't we suffered?Haven't our people been shot down and scalped. Haven't the women andchilder been driven from their homes. Sure, now's the toime of ourloives."

  "If all goes as we hope," Steve ventured. "There are the guns to bethought of."

  They continued chatting in low voices while the hundred or moreIndians discarded their blankets or coats, and with muskets at thetrail came sidling up towards the mound on their snowshoes. Presentlythe smooth and unbroken expanse of snow below which had met the eyesof the trappers early that morning was scored and seamed by hundredsof marks and lines, the prints of the snowshoes. The figures of theIndians, too, dwarfed before by the distance, were now far clearer,for they were within two hundred yards of the hollow. Steve and hisfriends watched as they gathered together for a while and discussedmatters. Then one of the Hurons, a gigantic fellow, broke from hiscomrades and came stalking up the rise, his musket over his shoulder,his tomahawk in his hand, and a wily and determined look on hissharply-cut mahogany features.

  "It air an old trick that," growled Jim. "Maybe he's given offenceto some of his tribe. Perhaps he ain't been so forward in the battleas he should ha' been. So he's took the first opportunity of doin'somethin' out o' the way to prove as he ain't a coward. Ef he walksright up, as he well may do----"

  "Not a man must move," said Steve sharply and with decision."Recollect that we are placed high above them, and that the groundslopes very steeply, even from the front face of the wall, so that ifa man wishes to look over and see us he must actually reach the wall.Not a man must lift a finger till that Indian actually sees us andshouts. Then it will be time."

  A whispered warning was passed down the ranks, and all squintedthrough their loopholes, watching the hulking figure of the Indian ashe ascended. It appeared indeed as if he was determined to sacrificehimself, and would actually clamber up to the wall and over it in hiseagerness to be killed or to discover the enemy. He advanced withouta waver till within forty yards of Steve and his men, and then, forthe first time, they saw him hesitate. He paused, looked round athis comrades, now too far away to support him, and then deliberatelylifted his musket to his shoulder, pointed the barrel at the moundabove him, and pressed the trigger, sending a bullet thudding into thesnow. When the smoke blew away, he was still there, standing now tohis full height, his eagles' feathers trailing to his waist, his scalplocks, with which his leggings were fringed, fluttering in the wind,and his hideously painted face turned towards the hollow.

  "Listen pale faces," he called out in his sing-song style, as if hewere addressing a meeting of braves. "I am here to summon you to comedown and be our prisoners. I swear that no harm shall befall you."

  He was silent for a while, and stood staring up at the hummock as ifexpecting an answer.

  "Ef only I might," whispered Jim, his face aglow at the thought, andhis huge brown fist clenched. "Ef only I dared shoot the skunk wherehe stands. Harm! As ef we didn't all know that an Injun's word ain'tworth a row of chips. As ef one of them critters could ever keep hisfingers off a white man when he got the chance! Don't me and everyboy here know well that a man might jest as well, ay, and better, farbetter, too, put a barrel to his head and draw a trigger rather thanfall a prisoner. None of yer Indian prisoners fer me. Huntin' Jim kentell a tale or two o' pale face men and women, and children, too, thevillains has burned and tortured to death by inches!"

  "Hush! He's going to speak again," whispered Steve, nudging the iratebackwoodsman. "Perhaps he thinks after all that we are not here."

  "Thinks, Cap'n! He knows jest as well as you or me. He ain't a fool.None of them varmint air."

  "You do not speak, pale faces," came the sing-song voice again."Listen, all who lie hidden before me. I give you one more invitationfrom the white men who lead us. Descend and there shall be no harm."

  Once more he waited, while many a hand went to the muskets and many aface scowled at the tall Indian.

  "Then, listen again," he went on. "I and my brothers know that youare there, hiding like foxes. If you will not descend, then showyourselves, fight like men, and let it be a combat with tomahawks.See, I am here, the Giant Oak, known throughout the great lakes forstrength and endurance. I have fired my shot, and here I will waitfor your leader to come forth and do battle with me."

  Silence. The silence of the grave alone greeted the brave who haddared to come so close to the hollow. As Steve stared down at him, hesaw that the Indian was making good use of every second, for his keeneyes searched every foot of the snow-clad slope above him, looked intoevery tiny hollow, and sought to discover a footmark, something totell him the exact position of the men whom his experience told himwere there. But nature had done her work well enough. The heavy fallof snow had covered every trace, and the astuteness of the trappershad do
ne the rest. The man looked baffled and desperate. He caught athis powder horn, charged his musket, primed the lock, and once moresent a bullet thudding into the snow. Then, jeering aloud and throwingevery sort of insult at the heads of the hidden enemy, he turned andslid down the hummock, watched by many a pair of eyes.

  "And lucky for him," said Jim. "Now there'll be a bother. They'll puttheir heads together, and there'll be a palaver. The French'll try tomake 'em charge, and likely enough the critters will come a littlecloser. Then, ef they haven't moved us, them Frenchies'll try a rush."

  "When we shall break the silence," said Steve. "Look, there are theguns."

  Jim was an old Indian fighter, and what he had prophesied took place.For while the Indians gathered together, and could be seen talkingand being harangued by some French officers, the two guns which had solong been out of sight suddenly appeared at the edge of the forest,and this time within an easy three hundred yards' range. There theywere dismounted, and Steve's men watched the gunners ram in theircharges and train the weapons on the slope.

  "A combined movement," said Steve easily, a determined smile on hislips. "They will endeavour to distract our attention while theircomrades charge. Ah, there go the Indians. Pass the word. Let everyman remember that not a trigger is to be drawn till I give the signal."

  It was just as well that he reissued the warning, for it is hard workfor men itching to retaliate and suffering under the knowledge of manycruel wrongs, to lie and listen to the patter and thud and whistleof large calibre bullets without sending their own leaden messengersback. However, the backwoodsmen knew what was wanted, and they laylike logs as the Indians drew nearer and nearer, firing as they came.Often and often those trained shots, who had lived their lives inthe woods, could have picked off one of their old enemies. But theyrefrained, though many a growl escaped them. Then came the guns. Acolumn of smoke belched of a sudden from the fringe of the forest,and a ball thudded against the rocky wall behind, bringing down amass of frozen debris. A second missile struck the very summit of thehummock, was caught as it were by the snow, and with all the venomtaken out of it and its pace retarded, went rolling down the far side.

  "Jest a little gentle play," smiled Jim grimly. "Let 'em send theircannon balls. Reckon they won't hurt us. But them Frenchies airgettin' ready to charge."

  It was as he said, for as Steve looked through the round opening madein the bank of snow, he saw some fifty dark figures emerge from thetrees beside the guns, and throw off their heavier clothing. Theywere French regulars for the most part, as was shown by their blueand white uniform. But there was a sprinkling of _coureurs de bois_amongst them, bold men of the forest, who had long ago demonstratedtheir capacity for this class of work.

  "We'll not be in a hurry," said Steve. "It is harder work to charge upa hillock, which after all may be untenanted, than it is to dash upwhile bullets swish past, and while the shouts and cheers of comradeshelp to keep up one's courage. Not a shot, boys, till you hear mymusket. Ah, here they come, and the guns are starting again."

  He had watched the French gunners sponging out their pieces, andnow crouched a little lower as a ball came hurtling overhead with ascream, and expending all its force against the soft cushion of snowlying on the hummock above, dropped backwards like a stone, and fellwith a thud at his feet.

  "Sure, 'tis one of thim bhoys as could give ye a gentle little knock,so it would," sang out Mac, while the trappers laughed heartily. "I'llbe afther axing ye, Mr. Frenchie down there, to aim to the rhight abhit, for Mac here don't like thim pellets, and there's Huntin' Jim asis afeared of the beauties."

  There was another laugh at that, a low, noiseless laugh for these menknew that sounds travelled easily and far on such a frosty day. Thenall fixed their eyes on the gathering of Frenchmen below, and watchedas they advanced towards the hillock, taking their time, for theywished to have all their breath for the more difficult part of theirtask.

  "Ef they'd only hurry," growled Jim. "They're delayin' so much that itmakes me jumpy. 'Sides, it's goin' to snow agin, and that'd help 'em."

  Indeed, as he spoke, a few flakes came sidling noiselessly throughthe air, while the clear sparkling light was rapidly shut out by themasses of heavy clouds which were gathering above. Heavy snow might,indeed, be expected, and would help to hide the attackers as theycame. Nor were the French slow to recognise that fact. While the gunswent on with their bombardment, pitching balls now to the right andthen to the left, and on one occasion clean into the hollow, the partywho had gathered and moved out to storm the hillock halted and shoutedto one another. Ten minutes later as the snow-flakes came tumblingheavily and the wind whirled them across the white expanse below, theFrenchmen started again, and, raising loud shouts, dashed forward asfast as their snow-shoes would carry them. Arriving at the steeperpart of the hillock they kicked their shoes away, and in a trice werescrambling up, their muskets slung over their shoulders and tomahawksor cutlasses in their hands.

  It was a tense moment for all behind the wall, and even the oldesttrapper there felt his heart thumping against his ribs and his pulsesthrobbing with unusual force. Steve's men lay as if they were dead,each man stretched behind a loop-hole, and every muzzle held justwithin the opening. The dark figures below became a little more clearamidst the whirling snow-flakes, their shouts grew rapidly closer, andfar sooner than Steve had expected they were within easy range. Butstill he held his hand till only thirty yards divided the combatants.

  Bang! Crash! His own piece bellowed noisily, and in an instant avolley burst from the defenders, spitting flames and smoke and leadenbullets into the Frenchmen. There was a shout of consternation, andsome dozen of the attackers fell backwards and went sliding down thesteep sides of the hill, carrying an avalanche of snow with them, tillthey reached a more level portion, where their bodies came to a rest.Behind them they left many a dark stain on what had been a beautifullywhite carpet, stains which the falling flakes did their utmost tocover, as if they were ashamed of this handiwork.

  "We have drawn their fire. We have the birds. Charge, mes enfants!"

  A slim, short officer, dressed in blue and white uniform, and minushis hat, which had been shot from his head, stood erect for aninstant, waving his sword and the pistol he carried in his other hand.Then, turning to face the wall from which the stinging hail of bulletshad come so suddenly, he leaped at it, and in a little while wasdesperately striving to clamber over it.

  "Men on the extreme right reload muskets," sang out Steve. "The othersuse clubbed muskets or tomahawks."

  There was no time for more, for the remainder of the attackers had nowjoined their leader and were already within a few paces of the wall.As Steve leaped to his feet and swung his ponderous musket butt overhis shoulder twenty of the enemy were within a couple of yards ofhim, and in an instant the pistol of the leader was pointing at hishead, there was the flash of powder in the pan, a sharp report, and astrange feeling under his cap. The cap rose of a sudden, spun round,and fell at his feet, while Steve grabbed for one brief instant at hisscalp and at the locks of hair which had been so neatly shorn from it.Up went his butt, he swung it over his head and brought it down with acrash which broke the Frenchman's guard, wrenched his sword out of hishand, and sent him rolling backwards doubled up like a ball.

  "On to 'em, boys. See the Cap'n. Drive 'em back same as he did."

  It was Pete's voice which burst in on the babel of shouts which hadbroken from attackers and defenders, while the burly backwoodsmanhimself leaped over the wall, his musket swinging over his head andthe butt swaying this way and that, clearing a path on every side.

  "Up and over the wall," shouted Steve. "Now, send them back."

  It was all over in less than a minute, even before the men told off toload their muskets had accomplished that task. One desperate onslaughtof the backwoodsmen had sent the Frenchmen rolling, sliding, andtumbling down the steep slope till they were out of sight behind thefalling bank of snow. Only their voices could be heard, the cries andmoans o
f the wounded, that and the deep voice of the two cannon whichhad ceased their fire for one instant as the combatants came to handgrips, and which opened again now, the gunners having learned that theattack had been beaten off.

  Thud! One ball struck the rock a foot above Steve's head and coveredhim with splintered rock and snow. Then came the second. They couldhear the whirr of the ball as it rushed through the air, the soundrising to that high-pitched shriek which has made many a recruit, ay,and many an old soldier too, bend his knees and his head and lookuncomfortable. Crash! It hit that face of the hollow which had beenfilled in with branches, thudded against the rocky wall beyond, andthen----

  There was a terrible explosion, which seemed to shake the hillock, andwhich threw Steve and his men in all directions. The roof which theyhad placed over their little fort disappeared amidst the snow-flakes,while the wall in front was shattered, the branches being sent overthe wall of snow on to the slope below.

  "One to them," said Steve, sadly, as he picked himself up. "That ballmust have struck the keg of powder we left in the hollow. Listen totheir cheers. They guess that they have damaged us severely. Let ussee how many of the men are hurt."

  One by one the trappers picked themselves up till only two still layon the ground.

  "Jest stunned and knocked silly, Cap'n," said Jim. "Reckon we're inluck this time. But it air not goin' to snow all day, and when itclears them fellers'll knock us to pieces."

  "If they are allowed to continue practice with the guns," answeredSteve swiftly. "Boys, the French guns must be put out of action. I amgoing to spike them, and I want a volunteer. Settle amongst yourselveswho is to come, while I get something with which to plug the vents ofthe cannon."

  He pulled his ramrod from its fastening and dived into the dismantledhollow, where a minute's search produced an axe. There was a bouldernear at hand and very soon he had cut two six-inch lengths off therod. By then Mac stood beside him, his snowshoes in his hand, hisbeard and hair red and flaming against the background beyond.

  "Ready and willin', Cap'n," he said.

  "Then come," answered Steve easily. "Boys, we'll be back by themorning."

  He waved his hand to his comrades, slung his musket, and strode awayto the left. A minute later he and Mac had disappeared round theshoulder of the hillock, their dark figures being swallowed up in awhirl of flying flakes.