The Hidden Children by Robert W. Chambers (tools of titans ebook .txt) 📖

of no nation! It is a broader nobility which knows neither race nor creed nor ancestry nor birth.... How the child adores you!"

"And you, Madame. Has ever history preserved another such example of dauntless resolution and filial piety as Lois de Contrecoeur has shown us all?"

Her mother's beautiful head lifted a little:

"The blood of France runs in her veins, Monsieur." Then, for the first time, a pale smile touched her pallour. "Quand meme! No de Contrecoeur tires of endeavour while life endures.... Twenty-two years, Monsieur. Look upon her!... And for one and twenty years I have forced myself to live in hope of this moment! Do you understand?" She made a vague gesture and shook her head. "Nobody can understand—not even I, though I have lived the history of many ages."

Still keeping my hand in hers, she stood there silent, looking down at her daughter. Then, silently, she knelt beside her on the soft fawnskin, drawing me gently to my knees beside her.

"And you are to take her from me," she murmured.

"Madame——"

"Hush, soldier! It must be. I give her to you in gratitude—and tears.... My task is ended; yours at last begins. Out of my arms you shall take her as she promised. What has been said shall be done this day in the Vale Yndaia.... May God be with us all."

"Madame—when I take her—one arm of mine must remain empty—as half her heart would be—if neither may hold you also to the end."

She bent her head; her grey eyes closed, and I saw the tears steal out along the long, soft lashes.

"Son, if you should come to love me——"

"Madame, I love you now."

She covered her face with her slim hands; I drew it against my shoulder. A moment later Lois unclosed her eyes, looked up at us; then rose to her knees in her white shift and put both bare arms around her mother's neck. And, kneeling so, turned her head, offering her untouched lips to me. Thus, for the first time in our lives, we kissed each other.

There was milk, ash-bread, corn, and fresh laid eggs for all our party when Lois went to the door and called, in a clear, sweet voice:

* "Nai! Mayaro! Yon-kwa-ken-nison!"

[* "Oh, Mayaro! We are all assembled!"]

Never have I seen any Indian eat as did my four warriors—the Yellow Moth cleaning his bark platter, where he sat on guard upon the logs at the pass, the others in a circle at our threshold.

Had we a siege to endure in this place, there was a store of plenty here, not only in apple-pit and corn-pit, but in the good, dry cellar with which the house was provided.

Truly, the Senecas had kept their Prophetess well provided; and now, before the snow of a not distant winter choked this pass, the place had been provisioned from the harvest against November's wants and stress.

And it secretly amused me to note the ever latent fear born of respect which my Indians endeavoured not to betray when in the presence of Madame de Contrecoeur; nor could her gentle dignity and sweetness toward them completely reassure them. To them a sorceress was a sorceress, and must ever remain a fearsome and an awesome personage, even though it were plain that she was disposed toward them most agreeably.

So they replied to her cautiously, briefly, but very respectfully, nor could her graciousness to the youthful Night Hawk for his unerring arrow, nor her quiet kindness toward the others, completely reassure them. They were not accustomed to converse, much less to take their breakfast, with a Sorceress of Amochol, and though this dread fact did nothing alter their appetites, it discouraged any freedom of conversation.

Lois and her mother and I understood this; Lois and I dared not laugh or rally them; Madame de Contrecoeur, well versed, God knows, in Indian manners and customs, calmly and pleasantly accepted the situation; and I think perhaps quietly enjoyed it.

But neither mother nor daughter could keep their eyes from each other for any length of time, nor did their soft hand-clasp loosen save for a moment now and then.

Later, Lois came to me, laid both hands over mine, looked at me a moment in silence too eloquent to misunderstand, then drew her mother with her into the little house. And I went back on guard to join my awed red brethren.

So the soft September day wore away with nothing untoward to alarm us, until late in the afternoon we saw smoke rising above the hills to the southwest. This meant that our devastating army was well on its way, and, as usual, laying waste the Indian towns and hamlets which its flanking riflemen discovered; and we all jumped up on our breastworks to see better.

For an hour we watched the smoke staining the pure blue sky; saw where new clouds of smoke were rising, always a little further northward. At evening it rolled, glowing with sombre tints, in the red beams of the setting sun; then dusk came and we could see the reflection on it of great fires raging underneath.

And where we were watching it came a far, dull sound which shook the ground, growing louder and nearer, increasing to a rushing, thundering gallop; and presently we heard our riflemen running through the flat-woods after the frightened herds of horses which were bred in Catharines-town for the British service, and which had now been discovered and frightened by our advance.

Leaving the Mohican and the Oneidas on guard, I went out with the Stockbridge, and soon came in touch with our light troops, stealing westward through the flat-woods to surround Catharines-town.

When I returned to our breastworks, Lois and her mother were standing there, looking at the fiery smoke in the sky, listening to the noise of the unseen soldiery. But on my explaining the situation, they went back to the little house together, after bidding us all good night.

So I set the first watch for the coming night, rolled myself in my blanket, and went to sleep with the lightest heart I had carried in my breast for many a day.

At dawn I was awakened by the noise of horses and cattle and the shouting of the grass-guard, where they were rounding to the half-wild stock from Catharines-town, and our own hoofed creatures which had strayed in the flat-woods.

A great cloud of smoke was belching up above the trees to the northward; and we knew that Catharines-town was on fire, and the last lurking enemy gone.

Long before Lois was astir, I had made my way through our swarming soldiery to Catharines-town, where there was the usual orderly confusion of details pulling down houses or firing them, troops cutting the standing corn, hacking apple-trees, kindling the stacked hay into roaring columns of flame.

Regiment after regiment paraded along the stream, discharged its muskets, filling the forests with crashing echoes and frightening our cattle into flight again; but they were firing only to clean out their pieces, for the last of our enemies had pulled foot before sunset, and the last howling Indian dog had whipped his tail between his legs and trotted after them.

Suddenly in the smoke I saw General Sullivan, mounted, and talking with Boyd; and I hastened to them and reported, standing at salute.

"So that damned Red Sachem escaped you?" said the General, biting his lip and looking now at me, now at Boyd.

Boyd said, glancing curiously at me:

"When we came up we found the entire Tory army here. I must admit, sir, that we were an hour late, having been blocked by the passage of two hundred Hurons and Iroquois who crossed our trail, cutting us from the north."

"What became of them?"

"They joined Butler, Brant, and Hiokatoo at this place, General."

Then the General asked for my report; and I gave it as exactly as I could, the General listening most attentively to my narrative, and Boyd deeply and sombrely interested.

When I ended he said:

"We have taken also a half-breed, one Madame Sacho. You say that Madame de Contrecoeur is at the Vale Yndaia with her daughter?"

"Guarded by my Indians, General."

"Very well, sir. Today we send back ten wagons, our wounded, and four guns of the heavier artillery, all under proper escort. You will notify Madame de Contrecoeur that there will be a wagon for her and her daughter."

"Yes, General."

He gathered his bridle, leaned from his saddle, and looked coldly at Boyd and me.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I shall expect you to take Amochol, dead or alive, before this command marches into the Chinisee Castle. How you are to accomplish this business is your own affair. I leave you full liberty, except," turning to Boyd, "you, sir, are not to encumber yourself again with any such force as you now have with you. Twenty men are too many for a swift and secret affair. Four is the limit—and four of Mr. Loskiel's Indians."

He sat still, gnawing at his lip for a moment, then:

"I am sorry that, through no fault apparently of your own, this Sorcerer, Amochol, escaped. But, gentlemen, the service recognizes only success. I am always ready to listen to how nearly you failed, when you have succeeded; I have no interest in hearing how nearly you succeeded when you have failed. That is all, gentlemen."

We stood at salute while he wheeled, and, followed by his considerable staff, walked his fine horse away toward the train of artillery which stood near by, the gun-teams harnessed and saddled, the guns limbered up, drivers and cannoneers in their saddles and seats.

"Well," said Boyd heavily, "shall we be about this matter of Amochol?"

"Yes.... Will you aid me in placing Madame de Contrecoeur and her daughter in the wagon assigned them?"

He nodded, and together we started back toward the Vale Yndaia in silence.

After a long while he looked up at me and said:

"I know her now."

"What?"

"I recognize your pretty Lois de Contrecoeur. For weeks I have been troubled, thinking of her and how I should have known her face. And last night, lying north of Catharines-town, it came to me suddenly."

I was silent.

"She is the ragged maid of the Westchester hills," he said.

"She is the noblest maid that ever breathed in North America," I said.

"Yes, Loskiel.... And, that being true, you are the fittest match for her the world could offer."

I looked up, surprised, and flushed; and saw how colourless and wasted his face had grown, and how in his eyes all light seemed quenched. Never have I gazed upon so hopeless and haunted a visage as he turned to me.

"I walk the forests like a damned man," he said, "already conscious of the first hot breath of hell.... Well—I had my chance, Loskiel."

"You have it still."

But he said no more, walking beside me with downcast countenance and brooding eyes fixed on our long shadows that led us slowly west.

CHAPTER XXI CHINISEE CASTLE

For twelve days our army, marching west by north, tore its terrible way straight through the smoking vitals of the Iroquois Empire, leaving behind it nearly forty towns and villages and more than two hundred cabins on fire; thousands and thousands of bushels of grain burning, thousands of apple, peach, pear, and plum trees destroyed, thousands of acres of pumpkins, beans, peas, corn, potatoes, beets, turnips, carrots, watermelons, muskmelons, strawberry, black-berry, raspberry shrubs crushed and rotting in the trampled gardens under the hot September sun.

In the Susquehanna and Chinisee Valleys, not a roof survived unburnt, not a fruit tree or an ear of corn remained standing, not a domestic animal, not a fowl, was left. And, save for the aged squaw we left at Chiquaha in a new hut of bark, with provisions sufficient for her needs, not one living soul now inhabited the charred ruins of the Long House behind us, except our fierce soldiery. And they, tramping doggedly forward, voluntarily and cheerfully placing themselves on half rations, were now terribly resolved to make an end for all time of the secret and fruitful Empire which had nourished so long the merciless marauders, red and white, who had made of our frontiers but one vast slaughter-house and bloody desolation.

Town after town fell in ashes as our torches flared; Kendaia, Kanadesaga, Gothsunquin, Skoi-yase, Kanandaigua, Haniai, Kanasa; acre after acre was annihilated. So vast was one field of corn that it took two thousand men more than six hours to destroy it. And the end was not yet, nor our stern business with our enemies ended.

As always on the march, the division of light troops led; the advance was piloted by my guides, reinforced by Boyd with four riflemen of Morgan's—Tim Murphy, David Elerson, and Garrett Putnam, privates, and Michael Parker, sergeant.

Close behind us, and pretty well ahead of the rifle battalion, under Major Parr, and the pioneers, followed Mr. Lodge, the surveyor, and his party—Thomas Grant with the Jacob-staff, four chain-carriers, and Corporal Calhawn. Usually we remained in touch with them while they