The Grey Cloak by Harold MacGrath (books for 9th graders .txt) 📖

time and place. How much rarer the world becomes to the man who has seen flower gardens and beautiful women moving to and fro among them! Ah, that ragged, rugged highway which he had traversed: dry crusts of life, buffets, bramble, curses and mockery. And here was realized one of his idle dreams. He took a dozen long strokes, which sent the craft up stream in the direction of Sillery, and let the oars drift. "You were to read a book?" he asked.

"It would burn your godly ears," said madame: "Malherbe."

"I have read him," quietly.

"What? Oh, fie, Monsieur le Jesuit!" And madame laughed at his confusion.

"When I was eighteen. That was before I took the orders." He picked up the oars again and pulled strongly and noiselessly. His thought was far away just then: when he was eighteen.

Anne, with her shoulders resting against madame's knees, opened the book which Victor had given her on a Sunday the year before. Sometimes Brother Jacques's stroke beat rhythmically with the measures; sometimes the oars trailed through the water with a low, sweet murmur. He could see nothing but those two fair faces.

They were nearing the heights of Sillery when Anne closed the book. "And now for Hiawatha and his white canoe," she said.

"Very well; I will tell you of the good Hiawatha, his daughter, and his white canoe. He came from the sky one day, in this very wonderful canoe. He had given up his rights as a deity in order to mingle with men and teach them wisdom. He was the wisest of all Indians as Nestor was the wisest of all the Greeks. As a god he was known as Taounyawatha, and he presided over the fisheries and the waterways. Whenever there was dissension among the various nations of the Iroquois, it was his word which settled the dispute. Grey-haired he was, penetration marked his eye, dark mystery pervaded his countenance. One day there was internal war and great slaughter followed. The wise men of the nations got together and summoned Hiawatha. They built great council fires on the shores of Genentaha Lake, which we call Onondaga. For three days these fires burned, but the great sage did not put in appearance, and nothing could be done without his counsel. When at last messengers found him in his secret abode, he was in a most melancholy state of mind. Great evil lay in his path, he said; and he had concluded not to attend the council at Genentaha. But the messengers said that the great wise men could not proceed with business until the council was graced with his presence. And if he did not come, annihilation awaited his children."

Brother Jacques rested on his oars again. Only his voice was with his narrative; his mind was filled with longing, the same longing which had always blocked his path to priestly greatness: the love of women.

"So Hiawatha removed his sacred white canoe from the lodge built for it, and the messengers reverentially assisted him to launch it. The wise man once again took his accustomed seat, and bade his daughter, a girl of twelve, and his heart's darling, to accompany him. She unhesitatingly obeyed; and together they made all possible speed toward the grand council ground. At the approach of the venerable sage, a shout of joy resounded throughout the assembled host, and every demonstration of respect was paid to the illustrious one. As he landed and was passing up the steep bank toward the council ground, a loud noise was heard, like the rushing of a mighty wind. All eyes were instantly turned upward, and a dark spot was discovered rapidly descending from the clouds above. It grew larger and larger as it neared the earth, and was descending with frightful velocity into their very midst. Terror filled every breast, and every one seemed anxious for his own safety. Confusion prevailed. All but the venerable Hiawatha sought safety in flight. He gravely uncovered his silvered head and besought his darling daughter to await the approaching danger with becoming resignation, at the same time reminding her of the futility and impropriety of attempting to prevent the designs of the Great Spirit.

"'If,' he said, 'the Great Spirit is determined upon our destruction, we shall not escape by removal, nor evade his decrees.'"

"And he was an Indian who expressed that thought?" said madame, wonderingly.

The boat drifted: not down stream as was natural, but up against the current, contrary to the laws of nature. Had they all been less interested in what was going on in their minds, they would have at once remarked this phenomenal performance.

"There is a mysterious particle of God in every savage," replied Brother Jacques, mentally comparing Anne's eyes with flashing water. "Well, to go on. Hiawatha's daughter modestly acquiesced to her kind parent's advice, and with patient submission awaited the catastrophe. All this was but the work of an instant; for no sooner had the resolution of the wise man become fixed and his latest words uttered than an immense bird, with long and pointed beak, with wide extended wings, came down with a mighty swoop and crushed the beautiful girl to the earth. With such force did the monster fall, and so great was the commotion of the air, that when it struck the ground, the whole assemblage was forced violently back several rods. Hiawatha alone remained unmoved, and silently witnessed the melancholy end of his beloved. 'Ai, ai, ai, agatondichou! Alas, alas, alas, my beloved! His darling had been killed before his eyes and her destroyer had been killed with her. His own time on earth was at an end.

"It was found upon examining the bird that it was covered with beautiful white plumage; and every warrior as he advanced plucked a plume from this singular bird, and with it adorned his crown. And forever after the braves of the confederate nations made choice of the plumes of the white herons as their most appropriate military ornament.

"Hiawatha was not to be consoled. He remained prostrate three nights and days, neither eating nor drinking. Then he roused and delivered the great harangue to the multitude, gave them the advice which made them so powerful. To the Mohawks he said that they should be called the first nation, because they were warlike and mighty; the Oneidas should be second, because of their wisdom; the Onondagas should be third, because they were mightiest of tongue and swiftest of foot; the Cayugas should be fourth, because of their superior cunning in hunting; and the Senecas should be fifth, because of their thrift in the art of raising corn and making cabins. To avoid all internal wars, all civil strife, they must band together in this wise, and they should conquer all their enemies and become great forever.

"'Lastly,' he said, 'I have now assisted you to form a mighty league, a covenant of strength and friendship. If you preserve it, without admission of other people, you will always be free, numerous and mighty. If other nations are admitted into your councils, they will sow jealousies among you, and you will become enslaved, few and feeble. Remember these words; they are the last you will hear from Hiawatha. Listen, my friends, the Great Master of Breath calls me to go. I have patiently awaited his summons. I am ready; farewell.'

"And as the wise man closed his speech, there burst upon the air the sound of wondrous music. The whole sky was filled with sweetest melody. Amid the general confusion which prevailed, Hiawatha was seen majestically seated in his white canoe, gracefully rising higher and higher above their heads through the air, until the clouds obscured it from view. Thus, as he came, he left them; but he had brought wisdom and had not taken it away, the godlike Taounyawatha, and son of the Great and Good Spirit Hawahneu. It is the learning of these poetical legends that has convinced us that some day we shall convert these heretics into Christians. It is . . ." Brother Jacques seemed turned into stone.

A hand, dark and glistening with water resting upon the gunwale of the boat, just back of madame, had caught his eye. Both women saw the horror grow in his face.

"What is it?" they cried.

Without replying he caught up the oars. The water boiled around the broad blades: the boat did not turn, but irresistibly maintained its course up the river. With an exclamation of despair, he wrenched loose one of the oars, lifted it above his head and brought it swiftly down toward the hand. The blade splintered on the gunwale. The hand had been withdrawn too swiftly. At the same instant the boat careened and a bronzed and glistening savage raised himself into the boat; and another, and another. They were captives, madame, Anne, and Brother Jacques. There stood the frowning fortress in the distance, help; but no voice could reach that distance. They were lost.

One of the Indians drew a knife and held it suggestively against Brother Jacques's breast. Neither madame nor Anne screamed; they were daughters of soldiers.

There were four Indians in all. They had daringly breasted the stream, and had grasped the towing line and the stern and had silently propelled the boat up the current.

"For myself I do not care," said Brother Jacques, his voice breaking. "But God forgive me for not being firm when I warned you."

"You are not to blame, Father," said madame. She was pale, but calm.

"What will they do with us?" asked Anne, a terrible thought dazing her.

"We are in the hands of God."

The boat moved diagonally across the river. When the forest-lined shore was gained, the leader motioned his captives to disembark, which they did. He put the remaining oar into the lock and pushed the governor's pleasure craft down stream, smiling as he did so. Next he drew forth two canoes from under drooping elderberry bushes and motioned to the women and Brother Jacques to enter.

"What are you going to do with us?" asked Brother Jacques in his best Iroquois.

"Make slaves of the white man's wives," gruffly. "The squaws of the Senecas long for them. And shall the Seneca see his favorite wife weep like a mother who has lost her firstborn?"

"Ah!" cried the priest, a light of recognition coming into his eyes. "So it is you, Corn Planter, whom I baptized Peter, whom I saved from starvation three times come the Winter Maker! So the word and gratitude of Corn Planter become like walnuts which have no meat? Beware; these are the daughters of Onontio, and his wrath will be great."

"It is the little Father," replied the Seneca. "It is well. He shall have food in plenty, and his days shall be long in my village, where he will teach my children the laws of his fathers. As for Onontio, he sleeps in his stone house while my brothers from the Mohawk valley carry away his Huron children. The daughters of Onontio shall become slaves. I have said."

"I will give my body to the stake," said Brother Jacques; "my flesh and bones to torture. Let Onontio's daughters