The Shadow of the North: A Story of Old New York and a Lost Campaign by Altsheler (top inspirational books .TXT) 📖

am not called back to the vale of Onondaga," said Tayoga, "I would see the building of this fort that Captain Colden has planned."

"Then we three are agreed," said the hunter. "It's best not to speak to Black Rifle, because he'll follow his own notions anyway, and as for Daganoweda and his Mohawks I think they're likely to resume their march northward against the French border."

"I'm grateful to you three," said Captain Colden, "and, now that it's settled, we'll start as soon as we can."

"Better give them all a good rest, and wait until the morning," said the hunter.

Again Captain Colden agreed with him.

CHAPTER IV THE PERILOUS PATH

After a long night of sleep and rest, the little troop resumed its march the next morning. The wounded fortunately were not hurt so badly that they could not limp along with the others, and, while the surgery of the soldiers was rude, it was effective nevertheless. Daganoweda, as they had expected, prepared to leave them for a raid toward the St. Lawrence. But he said rather grimly that he might return, in a month perhaps. He knew where they were going to build their fort, and unless Corlear and all the other British governors awoke much earlier in the morning it was more than likely that the young captain from Philadelphia would need the help of the Mohawks again.

Then Daganoweda said farewell to Robert, Tayoga, Willet and Black Rifle, addressing each according to his quality. Them he trusted. He knew them to be great warriors and daring rovers of the wilderness. He had no advice for them, because he knew they did not need it, but he expected them to be his comrades often in the great war, and he wished them well. To Tayoga he said:

"You and I, oh, young chief of the Onondagas, have hearts that beat alike. The Onondagas do well to keep aloof from the white man's quarrels for the present, and to sit at peace, though watchful, in the vale of Onondaga, but your hopes are with our friends the English and you in person fight for them. We Mohawks know whom to hate. We know that the French have robbed us more than any others. We know, that their Quebec is our Stadacona. So we have dug up the tomahawk and last night we showed to Sharp Sword and his men and Tandakora the Ojibway how we could use it."

Sharp Sword was the Iroquois name for St. Luc, who had already proved his great ability and daring as a forest leader.

"The Ganeagaono are now the chief barrier against the French and their tribes," said Tayoga.

The brilliant eyes of Daganoweda glittered in his dark face. He knew that Tayoga would not pay the Mohawks so high a compliment unless he meant it.

"Tayoga," he said, "we belong to the leading nations of the great League of the Hodenosaunee, you to the Onundahgaono and I to the Ganeagaono. You are first in the council and we are first on the warpath. It was Tododaho, the Onondaga, who first formed the great League and it was Hayowentha, the Mohawk, who combed the snakes out of his hair and who strengthened it and who helped him to build it so firmly that it shall last forever. Brothers are we, and always shall be."

He touched his forehead in salute, and the Onondaga touched his in reply.

"Aye, brothers are we," he said, "Mohawk and Onondaga, Onondaga and Mohawk. The great war of the white kings which draws us in it has come, but I know that Hayowentha watches over his people, and Tododaho over his. In the spring when I went forth in the night to fight the Hurons I gazed off there in the west where shines the great star on which Tododaho makes his home, and I saw him looking down upon me, and casting about me the veil of his protection."

Daganoweda looked up at the gleaming blue of the heavens, and his eyes glittered again. He believed every word that Tayoga said.

"As Tododaho watches over you, so Hayowentha watches over me," he said, "and he will bring me back in safety and victory from the St. Lawrence. Farewell again, my brother."

"Farewell once more, Daganoweda!"

The Mohawk chief plunged into the forest, and his fifty warriors followed him. Like a shadow they were gone, and the waving bushes gave back no sign that they had ever been. Captain Colden rubbed his eyes and then laughed.

"I never knew men to vanish so swiftly before," he said, "but last night was good proof that they were here, and that they came in time. I suppose it's about the only victory of which we can make boast."

He spoke the full truth. From the St. Lawrence to the Ohio the border was already ravaged with fire and sword. Appeals for help were pouring in from the distant settlements, and the governors of New York, Pennsylvania and Massachusetts scarcely knew what to do. France had struck the first blow, and she had struck hard. Young Washington, defeated by overwhelming numbers, was going back to Virginia, and Duquesne, the fort of the French at the junction of the Monongahela and Allegheny, was a powerful rallying place for their own forces and the swarming Indian bands, pouring out of the wilderness, drawn by the tales of unlimited scalps and plunder.

The task before Captain Colden's slender force was full of danger. His numbers might have been five times as great and then they would not have been too many to build and hold the fort he was sent to build and hold. But he had no thought of turning back, and, as soon as Daganoweda and the Mohawks were gone, they started, bending their course somewhat farther toward the south. At the ford of a river twenty men with horses carrying food, ammunition and other supplies were to meet them, and they reckoned that they could reach it by midnight.

The men with the horses had been sent from another point, and it was not thought then that there was any danger of French and Indian attack before the junction was made, but the colonial authorities had reckoned without the vigor and daring of St. Luc. Now the most cruel fears assailed young Captain Colden, and Robert and the hunter could not find much argument to remove them. It was possible that the second force had been ambushed also, and, if so, it had certainly been destroyed, being capable of no such resistance as that made by Colden's men, and without the aid of the three friends and the Mohawks. And if the supplies were gone the expedition would be useless.

"Don't be downhearted about it, captain," said Willet. "You say there's not a man in the party who knows anything about the wilderness, and that they've got just enough woods sense to take them to the ford. Well, that has its saving grace, because now and then, the Lord seems to watch over fool men. The best of hunters are trapped sometimes in the forest, when fellows who don't know a deer from a beaver, go through 'em without harm."

"Then if there's any virtue in what you say we'll pray that these men are the biggest fools who ever lived."

"Smoke! smoke again!" called Robert cheerily, pointing straight ahead.

Sure enough, that long dark thread appeared once more, now against the western sky. Willet laughed.

"They're the biggest fools in the forest, just as you hoped, Captain," he said, "and they've taken no more harm than if they had built their fires in a Philadelphia street. They've set themselves down for the night, as peaceful and happy as you please. If that isn't the campfire of your men with the pack horses then I'll eat my cap."

Captain Colden laughed, but it was the slightly hysterical laugh of relief. He was bent upon doing his task, and, since the Lord had carried him so far through a mighty danger, the disappointment of losing the supplies would have been almost too much to bear.

"You're sure it's they, Mr. Willet?" he said.

"Of course. Didn't I tell you it wasn't possible for another such party of fools to be here in the wilderness, and that the God of the white man and the Manitou of the red man taking pity on their simplicity and innocence have protected them?"

"I like to think what you say is true, Mr. Willet."

"It's true. Be not afraid that it isn't. Now, I think we'd better stop here, and let Robert and Tayoga go ahead, spy 'em out and make signals. It would be just like 'em to blaze away at us the moment they saw the bushes move with our coming."

Captain Colden was glad to take his advice, and the white youth and the red went forward silently through the forest, hearing the sound of cheerful voices, as they drew near to the campfire which was a large one blazing brightly. They also heard the sound of horses moving and they knew that the detachment had taken no harm. Tayoga parted the bushes and peered forth.

"Look!" he said. "Surely they are watched over by Manitou!"

About twenty men, or rather boys, for all of them were very young, were standing or lying about a fire. A tall, very ruddy youth in the uniform of a colonial lieutenant was speaking to them.

"Didn't I tell you, lads," he said, "there wasn't an Indian nearer than Fort Duquesne, and that's a long way from here! We've come a great distance and not a foe has appeared anywhere. It may be that the French vanish when they hear this valiant Quaker troop is coming, but it's my own personal opinion they'll stay pretty well back in the west with their red allies."

The youth, although he called himself so, did not look much like a Quaker to Robert. He had a frank face and merry eyes, and manner and voice indicated a tendency to gayety. Judging from his words he had no cares and Indians and ambush were far from his thoughts. Proof of this was the absence of sentinels. The men, scattered about the fire, were eating their suppers and the horses, forty in number, were grazing in an open space. It all looked like a great picnic, and the effect was heightened by the youth of the soldiers.

"As the Great Bear truly said," whispered Tayoga, "Manitou has watched over them. The forest does not hold easier game for the taking, and had Tandakora known that they were here he would have come seeking revenge for his loss in the attack upon Captain Colden's troop."

"You're right as usual, Tayoga, and now we'd better hail them. But don't you come forward just yet. They don't know the difference between Indians and likely your welcome would be a bullet."

"I will wait," said Tayoga.

"I tell you, Carson," the young lieutenant was saying in an oratorical manner, "that they magnify the dangers of the wilderness. The ford at which we were to meet Colden is just ahead, and we've come straight to it without the slightest mishap. Colden is no sluggard, and he should be here in the morning at the latest. Do you find anything wrong with my reasoning, Hugh?"

"Naught, William," replied the other, who seemed to be second in command. "Your logic is both precise and beautiful. The dangers of the border are greatly exaggerated, and as soon as we get together a good force all these French and Indians will flee back to Canada. Ah, who is this?"

Both he and his chief turned and faced the woods in astonishment. A youth had stepped forth, and stood in full view. He was taller than either, but younger, dressed completely in deerskin, although superior in cut and quality to that of the ordinary borderer, his complexion fair beneath his tan, and his hair light. He gazed at them steadily with bright blue eyes, and both the first lieutenant and the second lieutenant of the Quaker troop saw that he was no common person.

"Who are you?" repeated William Wilton, who was the first lieutenant.

"Who are you?" repeated Hugh Carson, who was the second lieutenant.

"My name is Robert Lennox," replied the young stranger in a mellow voice of amazing quality, "and you, I suppose, are Lieutenant William Wilton, the commander of this little troop."

He spoke directly to the first lieutenant, who replied, impressed as much by the youth's voice as he was by his appearance:

"Yes, such is my name. But how did you know it? I don't recall ever having met you before, which doubtless is my