The Hidden Children

  CHAPTER X

  IN GARRISON

  The end of the month was approaching, and as yet we had received nomarching orders, although every evening the heavy-laden batteauxcontinued to arrive from Albany, and every morning the slow wagon trainleft for the lake, escorted by details from Schott's irregulars, andFranklin's Wyoming militia.

  But our veteran rifle battalion did not stir, although all the otherregular regiments had marched to Otsego; and Colonel Gansevoort's 3rdN. Y. Regiment of the Line, which was now under orders to remain andguard the Valley, had not yet returned, although early in the week anOneida runner had come in with letters for Mrs. Bleecker and Mrs.Lansing from their husbands, saying that the regiment was on its way tothe fort, and that they, the ladies, should continue at Croghan's aslong as Morgan's Rifles were remaining there in garrison.

  Cooler weather had set in with an occasional day of heavy summer rain;and now our garrison life became exceedingly comfortable, especiallyagreeable because of the ladies' hospitality at Croghan's new house.

  Except for Lois and for them my duties on special detail would havebecome most irksome to me, shut off from the regiment as I was, withonly the Mohican to keep an eye on, and nothing else whatever to doexcept to write at sundown every evening in my daily journal.

  Not that I had not come to care a great deal for the Siwanois; indeed,I was gradually becoming conscious of a very genuine affection for thistall Mohican, who, in the calm confidence of our blood-brotherhood, wasdaily revealing his personality to me in a hundred naive and differentways, and with a simplicity that alternately touched and amused me.

  For, after his own beliefs and his own customs, he was every inch aman--courteous, considerate, proud, generous, loyal, and brave. Whichseem to me to be the general qualifications for a gentleman.

  Except the Seneca Mountain Snakes, the nations of the Long House,considering their beliefs, customs, and limited opportunities, were nota whit inferior to us as men. And the Mohicans have always been theirpeers.

  For, contrary to the general and ignorant belief, except for theSenecas, the Iroquois were civilised people; their Empire had moremoral reasons for its existence than any other empire I ever heard of;because the League which bound these nations into a confederacy, andwhich was called by them "The Great Peace," had been established, notfor the purpose of waging war, but to prevent it.

  Until men of my own blood and colour had taught them treachery andferocity and deceit, they had been, as a confederacy, guiltless ofthese things. Before the advent of the white man, a lie among theIroquois was punished by death; also, among them, unchastity wasscarcely known so rare was it. Even now, that brutal form of violencetoward women, white or red, either in time of war or peace, wasabsolutely non-existent. No captive woman needed to fear that. Only thepainted Tories--the blue-eyed Indians--remained to teach the Iroquoisthat such wickedness existed. For, as they said of themselves, thePeople of the Morning were "real men."

  They had a federal constitution; they had civil and politicalceremonies as wisely conceived and as dignified as they wereimpressive, romantic, and beautiful. Their literature, historical andimaginative, was handed down from generation to generation; and ifmemory were at fault, there were the wampum belts in their archives tocorroborate tradition.

  Their federal, national, tribal, sept, and clan systems were devisedsolely to prevent international decadence and fraternal strife; theirsecret societies were not sinister; their festivals and dances notimmodest; their priesthood not ignoble. They were sedentary andmetropolitan people--dwellers in towns--not nomads; they had cattle andfowls, orchards and grain-fields, gardens for vegetables, corrals forbreeding stock. They had many towns--some even of two hundred houses,of which dwellings many were cellared, framed, and glazed.

  They had their well-built and heavily stockaded forts which, becausethe first Frenchmen called them chateaux, were still known to us as"castles."

  Their family life was, typically, irreproachable; they were tender andindulgent husbands and fathers, charitable neighbours, gay andgood-humoured among their friends; and their women were deferred to,respected, and honoured, and had a distinct and important role to playin the social and political practices of the Confederacy.

  If they, by necessity, were compelled to decimate the Eries, crush theHurons, and subdue the Lenape and "make women of them," the latter termmeant only that the Lenape could not be trusted to bear arms as allies.

  Yet, with truest consideration and courtesy toward these conqueredones, and with a kindly desire to disguise and mitigate a necessary andhumiliating restriction, the Iroquois had recognised their priesthoodand their clans; had invested the Lenape with the fire-rights atFederal Councils; and had even devised for them a diplomatic role. Theywere henceforward the ambassadors of the Confederacy, the diplomats andpolitical envoys of the Long House.

  And if the Delawares never forgot or forgave their position as asubject nation, yet had the Iroquois done all they dared to soften anominal servitude which they believed was vitally necessary to thepeace and well-being of the entire Iroquois Confederacy.

  Of this kind of people, then, were the Iroquois, naturally--not, alas,wholly so after the white man had drugged them with rum, cheated them,massacred them, taught them every vice, inoculated them with everydisease.

  For I must bear witness to the truth of this, spite of the incredulityof my own countrymen; and, moreover, it is true that the Mohicans were,in all virtuous and noble things, the peers of the civilised people ofthe Long House.

  Those vile, horse-riding, murdering, thieving nomad Indians of theplains--those homeless, wandering, plundering violators of women andbutchers of children, had nothing whatever in common with our forestIndians of the East--were a totally different race of people, mentally,spiritually, and physically. And these two species must ever remaindistinct--the Gens des Prairies and the Gens du Bois.

  Only the Senecas resembled the degraded robbers of the Western plainsin having naturally evil and debased propensities, and entertainingsimilar gross and monstrous customs and most wicked superstitions. Butin the Long House the Senecas were really aliens; every nation feltthis, from the Canienga and Oneida peoples, whose skin was almost aswhite as our own, to the dusky Onondaga, Tuscarora, and Cayuga--darkerpeople, but no less civilised than the tall, stalwart, and handsomekeepers of the Eastern Gate.

  I have ventured to say this much concerning the Iroquois so that it maybetter be understood among my own countrymen how it was possible forme, a white man of unmixed blood, to love and respect a red man ofblood as pure and unmixed as mine. A dog-trader learns many thingsabout dogs by dealing in them; an interpreter who deals with men never,ultimately, mistakes a real man, white or red.

  My isolation from the regiment, as I say, was now more than compensatedby the presence of the ladies at Croghan's house. And Lois had now beenlodged with them for more than a week. How much of her sad history Mrs.Bleecker had seen fit to impart to Lana Helmer and Angelina Lansing Idid not know. But it seemed to be generally understood in the garrisonthat Lois had arrived from Albany on Mrs. Bleecker's invitation, andthat the girl was to remain permanently under her protection.

  The romantic fact that Lois was the orphan of white captives to theSenecas, and had living neither kith nor kin, impressed Angelinasentimentally, and Lana with an insatiable curiosity, if not withsuspicion.

  As for Boyd, he had not recognised her at all, in her powder, patches,and pretty gowns. That was perfectly plain to Lois and to me. And Icould understand it, too, for I hardly recognised her myself. And afterthe novelty of meeting her had worn off he paid her no particularattention--no doubt because of his headlong, impatient, and undisguisedinfatuation for Lana, which, with her own propensity for daringindiscretion, embarrassed us all more or less.

  No warrant had been given me to interfere; I was on no such intimateterms with Boyd; and as for Lana, she heeded Mrs. Bleecker's cautioussermons as lightly as a bluebird, drifting, heeds the soft air thatthrills with his carele
ss flight-song.

  What officers there were, regular and militia, who had not yet gone toOtsego Lake, came frequently to Croghan's to pay their respects; andevery afternoon there were most agreeable parties at Croghan's; nor wasour merriment any less restrained for our lack of chairs and tables andcrockery to contain the cakes and nougats, syllabubs and custards, thatthe black wench, Gusta, contrived for us. Neither were there glassessufficient to hold the sweet native wines, or enough cups to give eacha dish of the rare tea which had come from France, and which Mr. Hakehad sent to me from Albany, the thoughtful soul!

  If I did not entirely realise it at the time, nevertheless it was avery happy week for me. To see Lois at last where she belonged; to seeher welcomed, respected, and admired by the ladies and gentlemen atCroghan's--courted, flattered, sought after in a company sorespectable, and so naturally and sweetly holding her own among themwithout timidity or effort, was to me a pleasure so wonderful that eventhe quick, light shafts of jealousy--which ignoble but fiery darts wereever buzzing about my ass's ears, sometimes stinging me--could notfatally wound my satisfaction or my deep thankfulness that her dreadfuland wretched trials were ended at last, after so many years.

  What seemed to Angelina and Lana an exceedingly quick intimacy betweenLois and me sentimentally interested the former, and, as I have said,aroused the mischievous, yet not unkindly, curiosity of the latter.Like all people who are deep in intrigue themselves, any hint of it inothers excited her sophisticated curiosity. So when we concluded itmight be safe to call each other Lois and Euan, Lana's curiosity leapedover all bounds to the barriers of impertinence.

  There was, as usual, a respectable company gathered at Croghan's thatafternoon; and a floating-island and tea and a punch. Lois, in herusual corner by the northern window, was so beset and surrounded byofficers of ours, and Schott's, Franklin's, and Spalding's, andstaff-officers halted for the day, that I had quite despaired of a wordwith her for the present; and had somewhat sulkily seated myself on thestairs to bide my time. What between love, jealousy, and hurt pridethat she had not instantly left her irksome poppinjays at the meresight of me, and flown to me under the noses of them all, I was in twominds whether I would remain in the house or no--so absurd and horridlyunbalanced is a young man's mind when love begins meddling with andreadjusting its accustomed mechanism. Long, long were my ears in thosefirst days of my heart's undoing!

  Solemnly brooding on woman's coldness, fickleness, and generalingratitude, and silently hating every gallant who crowded about her tohold her cup, her fan, her plate, pick up her handkerchief or a budfallen from her corsage, I could not, however, for the life of me keepmy eyes from the cold-blooded little jilt.

  She had evidently been out walking before I arrived, for she still woreher coquette garden-hat--the chipstraw affair, with the lilac ribbonstied in a bow under her rounded chin; and a white, thin gown, mostravishing, and all bestrewn with sprigs and posies, which displayed hersmooth and delicately moulded throat above the low-pinned kerchief, andher lovely arms from the creamy elbow lace down to her finger tips.

  The French hair-powder she wore was not sprinkled in any vulgarprofusion; it merely frosted the rich curls, making her pink checkspinker and her grey eyes a darker and purpler grey, and rendering herlips fresh and dewy in vivid contrast. And she wore a patch on hersmooth left cheek-bone. And it was a most deadly thing to do, causingme a sentimental anguish unspeakable.

  As I sat there worshipping, enchanted, resentful, martyred, alternatelyaching with loneliness and devotion, and at the same time heartilydetesting every man on whom she chanced to smile, comes a sly andfragrant breath in my ear. And, turning, I discover Lana perched on astep of the stairs above me, her mocking eyes brilliant with unkinddelight.

  "Poor swain a-sighing!" said she. "Love is sure a thorny way, Euan."

  "Have a care for your own skirts then," said I ungraciously.

  "My skirts!"

  "Yours, Lanette. Your petticoat needs mending now."

  "If love no more than rend my petticoat I ought to be content," shesaid coolly.

  Silenced by her effrontery, which truly passed all bounds, I merelyglared at her, and presently she laughed outright.

  "Broad-brim," said she, "I was not born yesterday. Have no worriesconcerning me, but look to yourself, for I think you have been sorelyhit at last. And God knows such wounds go hard with a truly worthy andgood young man."

  "I make nothing of your nonsense," said I coldly.

  "What? Nothing? And yonder sits its pretty and romantic inspiration? Iam glad I have lived to see the maid who dealt you your first wound!"

  "Do you fancy that I am in love?" said I defiantly.

  "Why not admit what your lop-ears and moony mien yell aloud to theworld entire?"

  "Have you no common sense, Lana? Do you imagine a man can fall in lovein a brief week?"

  "I have been wondering," said she coolly, "whether you have ever beforeseen her."

  "Continue to wonder," said I bluntly.

  "I do.... Because you call her 'Lois' so readily--and you came near itthe first day you had apparently set eyes on her. Also, she calls you'Euan' with a tripping lack of hesitation--even with a certain naturaltenderness--"

  I turned on her, exasperated:

  "Come," said I, controlling my temper with difficulty, "I am tired ofplaying butt to your silly arrows."

  "Oh, how you squirm, Euan! Cupid and I are shooting you full as aporcupine!"

  "If Cupid is truly shooting," said I with malice, "you had best huntcover, Lana. For I think already a spent shaft or two has bruised you,flying at hazard from his bow."

  She smilingly ignored what I had said.

  "Tell me," she persisted, "are you not at her pretty feet already? Isnot your very soul down on its worthy marrow-bones before this girl?"

  "Is not every gallant gentleman who comes to Croghan's at the feet ofMiss de Contrecoeur?"

  "One or two are in the neighbourhood of my feet," she remarked.

  "Aye, and too near to please me," said I.

  "Who, for example?"

  "Boyd--for example," I replied, giving her a hearty scowl.

  "Oh!" she drawled airily. "He is not yet near enough my ankles toplease me."

  "You little fool," said I between my teeth, "do you think you can playalley-taw and cat's-cradle with a man like that?"

  Then a cold temper flashed in her eyes.

  "A man like that," she repeated. "And pray, dear friend, what manner ofman may be 'a man like that?'"

  "One who can over-match you at your own silly sport--and carry the gameto its sinister finish! I warn you, have a care of yourself, Lanette.Sir John is a tyro to this man."

  She said hotly: "If I should say to him what you have but now said tome, he would have you out for your impertinence!"

  "If he continues to conduct as he has begun," said I, "the chances arethat I may have him out for his effrontery."

  "What! Who gave you the privilege of interfering in my affairs, yousilly ninny?"

  "So that you display ordinary prudence, I have no desire to interfere,"I retorted angrily.

  "And if I do not! If I am imprudent! If I choose to be audacious,reckless, shameless! Is it your affair?"

  "Suppose I make it mine?"

  "You are both silly and insulting; do you know it?"

  Flushed, breathing rapidly, we sat facing each other; and I could haveshaken the little vixen, so furious was I at myself as well as at her.

  "Very well," said I, "continue to play with hell-fire if you like. I'mdone with you and with him, too."

  "And I with you," she said between her teeth. "And if you were not thehonest-meaning marplot that you are, Mr. Boyd should teach you alesson!"

  "I'll teach him one now," said I, springing to my feet and gone quiteblind with rage so that I was obliged to stand still a moment before Icould discover Boyd where he stood by the open door, trying to conversewith Mrs. Lansing, but watching us both with unfeigned amazement.

  "Eu
an!"

  Lana's voice arrested me, and I halted and turned, striving to rememberdecency and that I was conducting like a very boor. This was neitherthe time nor place to force a quarrel on any man.... And Lana wasright. I had no earthly warrant to interfere if she gave me none;perhaps no spiritual warrant either.

  Still shaken and confused by the sudden fury which had invaded me, andnow sullenly mortified by my own violence and bad manners, I stood withone hand resting on the banisters, forcing myself to look at Lana andtake the punishment that her scornful eyes were dealing me.

  "Are you coming to your senses?" she asked coldly.

  "Yes," I said. "I ask your pardon."

  A moment more we gazed at each other, then suddenly her under liptrembled and her eyes filled.

  "Forgive me," she stammered. "You are a better friend to methan--many.... I am not angry, Euan."

  At that I could scarce control my own voice:

  "Lanette--little Lana! Find it in your generous heart to offer me mypardon, for I have conducted like a yokel and a fool! But--but I reallydo love you."

  "I know it, Euan. I did not know it was in me to use you so cruelly.Let us be friends again. Will you?"

  "Will you, Lana?"

  "Willingly--oh, with all my heart! And--I am not very happy, Euan. Bearwith me a little.... There is a letter come from Clarissa; perhaps itis that which edges my tongue and temper--the poor child is so sad andlonely, so wretchedly unhappy--and Sir John riding the West with allhis hellish crew! And she has no news of him--and asks it of me----"

  She descended a step and stood on the stair beside me, looking up at mevery sweetly, and resting her hand lightly on my shoulder--a caress sofrank and unconcealed that it meant no more then its innocentsignificance implied. But at that moment, by chance, I encounteredLois's eyes fixed on me in cold surprise. And, being a fool, andalready unnerved, I turned red as a pippin, as though I were guilty,and looked elsewhere till the heat cooled from my cheeks.

  "You dear boy," said Lana gently. "If there were more men like you andfewer like--Sir John, there'd be no Clarissas in the world." Shehesitated, then smiled audaciously. "Perhaps no Lanas either.... There!Go and court your sweetheart. For she gave me a look but now whichboded ill for me or for any other maid or matron who dares lay fingeron a single thrum of your rifle-shirt."

  "You are wrong," said I. "She cares nothing for me in that manner."

  "What? How do you know, you astounding boy?"

  "I know it well enough."

  Lana shot a swift and curious look straight across the room at Lois,who now did not seem to be aware of her.

  "She is beautiful... and--not made of marble," said Lana softly toherself. "Good God, no! Scarcely made of marble.... And some man willawaken her one day.... And when he does he will unchain Aphroditeherself--or I guess wrong." She turned to me smiling. "That girl yonderhas never loved."

  "Why do you think so?"

  "I know it; but I can not tell you why I know it. Women divine wheremen reason; and we are oftener right than you.... Are you truly in lovewith her?"

  "I can not speak of such things to you," I muttered.

  "Lord! Is it as serious as that already? Is it arrived at the holy andsacred stage?"

  "Lana! For heaven's sake----"

  "I am not jeering; I am realising the solemn fact that you haveprogressed a certain distance in love and are arrived at a definite andwell-known milestone.... And I am merely wondering how far she hasprogressed--or if she has as yet journeyed any particular distance atall--or any more than set out upon the road. For the look she shot atme convinces me that she has started--in fact, has reached that turn inthe thorny path where she is less inclined to defend herself than herown possessions. You seem to be one of them."

  Boyd, who had awaited the termination of our tete-a-tete with animpatience perfectly apparent to anybody who chanced to observe him,now seemed able to endure it no longer; and as he approached us I feltLana's hand on my arm tremble slightly; but the cool smile still curvedher lips.

  She received him with a shaft of light raillery, and he laughed andretorted in kind, and then we three sauntered over to the table wherewas the floating island in a huge stone bowl of Indian ware.

  Around this, and the tea and punch, everybody was now gathering, andthere was much talking and laughing and offering of refreshment to theladies, and drinking of humourous or gallant toasts.

  I remember that Boyd, being called upon, instantly contrived someimpromptu verses amid general approbation--for his intelligence was aslithe and graceful as his body was agile. And our foppish Ensign, whowas no dolt by a long shot either, made a most deft rondeau in flatteryof the ladies, turning it so neatly and unexpectedly that we all drewour side-arms and, thrusting them aloft, cheered both him and the fairsubjects of his nimble verses.

  I would have been glad to shine in that lively and amusing competition,but possessed no such desirable talents, and so when called uponcontrived merely a commonplace toast which all applauded as in dutybound.

  And I saw Lois looking at me with an odd, smiling expression, not onething or another, yet scarcely cordial.

  "And now," says Boyd, "each lady in turn should offer an impromptutoast in verse."

  Whereupon they all protested that the thing was impossible. But he wasalready somewhat flushed with the punch and with his own success; andsays he, with that occasional and over-flourishing bow of his:

  "To divinity nothing is impossible; therefore, the ladies, ever divine,may venture all things."

  "Which is why I venture to decline," remarked Lana. But he was set uponit, and would not be denied; and he began a most flowery little speechwith the ladies as his inspiration:

  "Poetry and grace in mind and body is theirs by nature," said he, "andthey have but to open the rosy petals of their lips to enthrall us allwith gems of----"

  "Lord!" said Mrs. Bleecker, laughing, "I have never writ a verse in mylife save on my sampler; and if I were to open the rosy petals of mylips, I should never have done a-giggling. But I'll do it, Mr. Boyd, ifyou think it will enthrall you."

  "As for me," quoth Angelina Lansing, "I require a workshop tomanufacture my gems. It follows that they are no true gems at all, butshop-made paste. Ask Lana Helmer; she is far more adept in sugaringrefusals."

  All turned smilingly toward Lana, who shrugged her shoulders, sayingcarelessly:

  "I must decline! The Muses nine No sisters are of mine. Must I repine Because I'm not divine, And may not versify some pretty story To prove to you my own immortal glory? Make no mistake. Accept; don't offer verses. Kisses received are mercies--given, curses!"

  Said Boyd instantly:

  "A thousand poems for your couplets! Do you trade with me, Miss Helmer?"

  "Let me hear your thousand first," retorted the coquette disdainfully,"ere I make up my mind to be damned."

  Major Parr said grimly:

  "With what are we others to trade, who can make no verses? Is there notsome more common form of wampum that you might consider?"

  "A kind and unselfish heart is sound currency," said Lana smiling andturning her back on Boyd; which brought her to face Lois.

  "Do make a toast in verse for these importunate gentlemen," she said,"and bring the last laggard to your feet."

  "I?" exclaimed Lois in laughing surprise. Then her face altered subtly."I may not dream to rival you in beauty. Why should I challenge you inwit?"

  "Why not? Your very name implies a nationality in which elegance,graceful wit, and taste are all inherent." And she curtsied very low toLois.

  For a moment the girl stood motionless, her slender forefinger crook'din thought across her lips. Then she glanced at me; the pink spots onher cheeks deepened, and her lips parted in a breathless smile.

  "It will give me a pleasure to do honour to any wish expressed byanybody," she said. "Am I to compose a toast, Euan?"

  I gazed at her in surprise; Major Parr said loudly: "That's the properspirit!"

  And, "Write
for us a toast to love!" cried Boyd.

  But Lana coolly proposed a toast to please all, which, she explained, atoast to love would not by any means.

  "And surely that is easy for you," she added sweetly, "who of yourproper self please all who ever knew you."

  "Write us a patriotic toast!" suggested Captain Simpson, "----A jollytoast that all true Americans can drink under the nose of the BritishKing himself."

  "That's it!" cried Captain Franklin. "A toast so cunningly devised thatour poor fellows in the Provost below, and on that floating hell, the'Jersey,' may offer it boldly and unrebuked in the very teeth of theirjailors! Lord! But that would be a rare bit o' verse--if it could beaccomplished," he added dubiously.

  Lois stood there smiling, thinking, the tint of excitement stillbrilliant in her cheeks.

  "No, I could not hope to contrive such a verse----" she mused aloud."Yet--I might try----" She lifted her grey eyes to mine as thoughawaiting my decision.

  "Try," said I--I don't know why, because I never dreamed she had atalent for such trifles.

  For a second, as her eyes met mine, I had the sensation of standingthere entirely alone with her. Then the clamour around us grew on myears, and the figures of the others again took shape on every side.

  And "Try!" they cried. "Try! Try!"

  "Yes," she said slowly. "I will try----" She looked up at me. "----Ifyou wish it."

  "Try," I said.

  Very quietly she turned and passed behind the punch bowl and into thenext room, but did not close the door. And anybody could see her there,seated at the rough pine table, quill in hand, and sometimesmotionless, absorbed in her own thoughts, sometimes scratching away atthe sheet of paper under her nose with all the proper frenzy of a verypoet.

  We had emptied the punch bowl before she reappeared, holding out to methe paper which was still wet with ink. And they welcomed her lustily,glasses aloft, but I was in a cold fright for fear she had writ nothingextraordinary, and they might think meanly of her mind, which, afterall, I myself knew little of save that it was sweet and generous.

  But she seemed in no manner perturbed, waiting smilingly for the noiseto quiet. Then she said:

  "This is a toast that our poor tyrant-ridden countrymen may dare tooffer at any banquet under any flag, and under the very cannon of NewYork."

  She stood still, absent-eyed, thinking for a moment; then, looking upat us:

  "It is really two poems in one. If you read it straight across the pageas it is written, then does it seem to be a boastful, hateful Toryverse, vilifying all patriots, even His Excellency--God forgive thethought!

  "But in the middle of every line there is a comma, splitting the lineinto two parts. And if you draw a line down through every one of thesecommas, dividing the written verse into two halves, each separate halfwill be a poem of itself, and the secret and concealed meaning of thewhole will then be apparent."

  She laid the paper in my hands; instantly everybody, a-tiptoe withcuriosity, clustered around to see. And this is what we all read--theprettiest and most cunningly devised and disguised verse that ever waswrit--or so it seems to me:

  "Hark--hark the trumpet sounds, the din of war's alarms O'er seas and solid grounds, doth call us all to arms, Who for King George doth stand, their honour soon shall shine, Their ruin is at hand, who with the Congress join. The acts of Parliament, in them I much delight, I hate their cursed intent, who for the Congress fight. The Tories of the day, they are my daily toast, They soon will sneak away, who independence boast, Who non-resistant hold, they have my hand and heart, May they for slaves be sold, who act the Whiggish part. On Mansfield, North and Bute, may daily blessings pour Confusions and dispute, on Congress evermore, To North and British lord, may honours still be done, I wish a block and cord, to General Washington."

  Then Major Parr took the paper, and raising one hand, and with astrange solemnity on his war-scarred visage, he pronounced aloud thelines of the two halves, reading first a couplet from the left handside of the dividing commas, then a couplet from the right, and so downthe double column, revealing the hidden and patriotic poem:

  "Hark--hark the trumpet sounds O'er seas and solid grounds! The din of war's alarms Doth call us all to arms! Who for King George doth stand Their ruin is at hand: Their honour soon shall shine Who with the Congress join: The acts of Parliament I hate their cursed intent! In them I much delight Who for the Congress fight. The Tories of the day They soon will sneak away: They are my daily toast Who independence boast. Who non-resistant hold May they for slaves be sold. They have my hand and heart Who act the Whiggish part. On Mansfield, North, and Bute, Confusion and dispute. May daily blessings pour On Congress evermore. To North and British lord, I wish a block and cord! May honours still be done To General Washington!"

  As his ringing voice subsided, there fell a perfect silence, then avery roar of cheering filled it, and the hemlock rafters rang. And Isaw the colour fly to Lois's face like a bright ensign breaking fromits staff and opening in flower-like beauty.

  Then every one must needs drink her health and praise her skill and witand address--save I alone, who seemed to have no words for her, or evento tell myself of my astonishment at her accomplishment, somehow sounexpected.

  Yet, why might I not have expected accomplishments from such a pliantintelligence--from a young and flexible mind that had not lackedschooling, irregular as it was? Far by her own confession to me, hereducation had been obtained, while it lasted, in schools as good as anyin the land, if, indeed, all were as excellent as Mrs. Pardee's YoungLadies' Seminary in Albany, or the school kept by the Misses Primrose.

  And Major Parr, the senior officer present, must have a glass of winewith her all alone, and offer her his arm to the threshold, where Lanaand Boyd were busily plaiting a wreath of green maple-leaves for her,which they presently placed around her chip-straw hat. And we allacclaimed her.

  As for Major Parr, that campaign-battered veteran had out his tabletsand was painfully copying the verses--he being no scholar--while Boydread them aloud to us all again in most excellent taste, and Loislaughed and blushed, protesting that her modest effort was not worthysuch consideration.

  "Egad!" said Major Parr loudly. "I maintain that verses such as theseare worth a veteran battalion to any army on earth! You are an aid, anhonour, and an inspiration to your country, Miss de Contrecoeur, and Ishall take care that His Excellency receives a copy of these sameverses----"

  "Oh, Major Parr!" she protested in dismay. "I should perish with shameif His Excellency were to be so beset by every sorry scribbler."

  "A copy for His Excellency! Hurrah!" cried Captain Simpson. "Whovolunteers?"

  "I will make it," said I, with jealous authority.

  "And I will aid you with quill, sand, and paper," said Lana. "Come withme, Euan."

  Lois, who had at first smiled at me, now looked at us both, while thesmile stiffened on her flushed face as Lana caught me by the hand anddrew me toward the other room where the pine camp-table stood.

  While I was writing in my clear and painstaking chirography, which Itry not to take a too great pride in because of its fine shading andskillful flourishes, the guests of the afternoon were making theiradieux and taking their departure, some afoot, others on horseback.

  When I had finished my copy and had returned to the main room, nothingremained of the afternoon party save Boyd and Lana, whispering togetherby a window, and the black wench, Gusta, clearing away the debris ofthe afternoon.

  Outside in the late sunshine, I could see Mrs. Bleecker and Mrs.Lansing strolling to and fro, arm in arm, but I looked around in vainfor Lois.

  "She is doubtless gone a-boating with her elegant senior Ensign," saidLana sweetly, from the window. "If you run fast you may kill him yet,Euan."

  "I was looking for nobody," said I stiffly, and marched out, riddingthem of my company--which I think was what they both desired.

  Now, among other and importunate young fops, the senior
Ensign and hisfrippery and his marked attention to Lois, and his mincing butunfeigned devotion to her, had irritated me to the very verge ofmadness.

  Twice, to my proper knowledge, this fellow had had her in an Oneidacanoe, and with a guitar at that; and, damn him, he sang with taste anddiscretion. Also, when not on duty, he was ever to be found lispingcompliments into her ear, or, in cool possession of her arm,promenading her to flaunt her beauty--and his good fortune--before theentire fort. And I had had enough of it.

  So when I learned that she was off again with him, such a rage andwretchedness possessed me that I knew not what to do. Common senseyelled in my ear that no man of that stripe could seriously impressher; but where is the understanding in a very young man so violentlysick with love as was I? All men who approached her I instantlysuspected and mentally damned--even honest old Simpson--aye, even MajorParr himself. And I wonder now I had not done something to invitecourt-martial. For my common sense had been abruptly and completelyupset, and I was at that period in a truly unhappy and contemptibleplight.

  I could not seem to steer my footsteps clear of the river bank, nordeny myself the fierce and melancholy pleasure of gazing at their canoefrom afar, so I finally walked in that direction, cursing my ownweakness and meditating quarrels and fatal duels.

  But when I arrived on the river bank, I could not discover her in anyof the canoes that danced in the rosy ripples of the declining sun. So,mooning and miserable, I lagged along the bank toward my bush-hut; andpresently, to my sudden surprise, discovered the very lady of whom Ihad been thinking so intently--not dogged as usual by that insufferableEnsign, but in earnest conversation with the Sagamore.

  And, as I gazed at them outlined against the evening sky, I rememberedwhat Betsy Hunt had said at Poundridge--how she had encountered themtogether on the hill which overlooked the Sound.

  Long before I reached them or they had discovered me, the Sagamoreturned and took his departure, with a dignified gesture of refusal; andLois looked after him for a moment, her hand to her cheek, then turnedand gazed straight into the smouldering West, where, stretching awayunder its million giant pines, the vast empire of the Long House lay,slowly darkening against the crimson sunset.

  She did not notice me as I came toward her through the waving Indiangrass, and even when I spoke her name she did not seem startled, butturned very deliberately, her eyes still reflecting the broodingthoughts that immersed her.

  "What is it that you and this Mohican have still to say to each other?"I asked apprehensively.

  The vague expression of her features changed; she answered withheightened colour:

  "The Sagamore is my friend as well as yours. Is it strange that Ishould speak with him when it pleases me to do so?"

  There was an indirectness in her gaze, as well as in her reply, thattroubled me, but I said amiably:

  "What has become of your mincing escort? Is he gone to secure a canoe?"

  "He is on duty and gone to the fort."

  "Where he belongs," I growled, "and not eternally at your heels."

  She raised her eyes and looked at me curiously.

  "Are you jealous?" she demanded, beginning to smile; then, suddenly thesmile vanished and she shot at me a darker look, and stood consideringme with lips slightly compressed, hostile and beautiful.

  "As for that fop of an Ensign----" I began--but she took the word frommy mouth:

  "A fiddle-stick! It is I who have cause to complain of you, not you ofme! You throw dust in my eyes by accusing where you should standotherwise accused. And you know it!"

  "I? Accused of what?"

  "If you don't know, then I need not humiliate myself to inform you. ButI think you do know, for you looked guilty enough----"

  "Guilty of what?"

  "Of what? I don't know what you may be guilty of. But you sat on thestairs with your simpering inamorata--and your courtship quarrels andyour tender reconciliations were plain enough to--to sicken anybody----"

  "Lois! That is no proper way to speak of----"

  "It is your own affair--and hers! I ask your pardon--but she flauntedher intimacy with you so openly and indiscreetly----"

  "There is no common sense in what you say!" I exclaimed angrily. "IfI----"

  "Was she not ever drowning her very soul in your sheep's eyes? And evennot scrupling to shamelessly caress you in the face of all----"

  "Caress me!"

  "Did she not stand for ten full minutes with her hand upon yourshoulder, and a-sighing and simpering----"

  "That was no caress! It was full innocent and----"

  "Is she so innocent? Indeed! I had scarcely thought it of her," shesaid disdainfully.

  "She is a true, good girl, innocent of any evil intentionwhatsoever----"

  "I pray you, Euan, spare me your excited rhapsodies. If you prefer thismost bewitching--minx----"

  "She is no minx!" I retorted hotly; and Lois as hotly faced me, pink toher ears with exasperation.

  "You do favour her! You do! You do! Say what you will, you are everlistening for the flutter of her petticoats on the stairs, ever at herFrench heels, ever at moony gaze with her--and a scant inch betwixtyour noses! So that you come not again to me vowing what you have vowedto me--I care not how you and she conduct----"

  "I do prefer you!" I cried, furious to be so misconstrued. "I love onlyone, and that one is you!"

  "Oh, Euan, yours is a most broad and catholic heart; and any prettypenitent can find her refuge there; and any petticoat can flutter it!"

  "Yours can. Even your fluttering rags did that!"

  She flushed: "Oh, if I were truly weak and silly enough to listen toyou----"

  "You never do. You give me no hope."

  "I do give you hope! I am ever ladling it out to you as they ladlesoupaan to the militia! I say to you continually that never have I sodevotedly loved any man----"

  "That is not love!" I said, furious.

  "I do not pretend it to be that same boiling and sputtering sentimentwhich men call love----"

  "Then if it be not true love, why do you care what I whisper to anywoman?"

  "I do not care," she said, biting the rose-leaf lower lip. "You maywhisper any treason you please to any h-heartless woman who snares yourf-fancy."

  "You do not truly care?"

  "I have said it. No, I do not care! Court whom you please! But if youdo, my faith in man is dead, and that's flat!"

  "What!"

  "Certainly.... After your burning vows so lately made to me. But menhave no shame. I know that much."

  "But," said I, bewildered, "you say that you care nothing for my vows!"

  "Did I say so?"

  "Yes--you----"

  "No, I did not say so!... I--I love your vows."

  "How can you love my vows and not me?" I demanded angrily.

  "I don't know I can do it, but I do.... But I will love them no longerif you make the selfsame vows to her."

  "Now," said I, perplexed and exasperated, "what does it profit a manwhen a maid confesses that she loves to hear his vows, but loves nothim who makes them?"

  "For me to love even your vows," said she, looking at me sideways, "issomething gained for you--or so it seems to me. And were I minded toplay the coquette--as some do----"

  "You play it every minute!"

  "I? When, pray?"

  "When I came to Croghan's this afternoon there were you the centre of'em all; and one ass in boots and spurs to wave your fan for you--oh,la! And another of Franklin's, in his Wyandotte finery, to fetch andcarry; and a dozen more young fools all ogling and sighing at yourfeet----"

  Her lips parted in a quick, nervous laugh:

  "Was that the way I seemed? Truly, Euan? Were you jealous? And I scarceheeding one o' them, but my eyes on the doorway, watching for you!"

  "Oh, Lois! How can you say that to me----"

  "Because it was so! Why did you not come to me at once? I was waiting!"

  "There were so many--and you seemed so gay with them--so careless--noteven glan
cing at me----"

  "I saw you none the less. I never let you escape the range of myvision."

  "I never dreamed you noticed me. And every time you smiled on one ofthem I grew the gloomier----"

  "And what does my gaiety mean--save that the source of happiness liesrooted in you? What do other men count, only that in their admiration Iread some recompense for you, who made me admirable. These gowns I wearare yours--these shoon and buckles and silken stockings--these bows oflace and furbelows--this little patch making my rose cheeksrosier--this frost of powder on my hair! All these I wear, Euan, sothat man's delight in me may do you honour. All I am to please them--mygaiety, my small wit, which makes for them crude verses, my modesty, mydecorum, my mind and person, which seem not unacceptable to arespectable society--all these are but dormant qualities that you haveawakened and inspired----"

  She broke off short, tears filling her eyes:

  "Of what am I made, then, if my first and dearest and deepest thoughtbe not for you? And such a man as this is jealous!"

  I caught her hands, but she bent swiftly and laid her hot cheek for aninstant against my hand which held them.

  "If there is in me a Cinderella," she said unsteadily, "it is you whohave discovered it--liberated it--and who have willed that it shalllive. Did you suppose that it was in me to make those verses unless youtold me that I could do it? You said, 'Try,' and instantly I daredtry.... Is that not something to stir your pride? A girl as absolutelyyours as that? And do not the lesser and commonplace emotions seemtrivial in comparison--all the heats and passions and sentimentalvapours--the sighs and vows and languishing all the inevitabletrappings and masqueradings which bedizzen what men know as love--dothey not all seem mean and petty compared to our deep, sweet knowledgeof each other?"

  "You are wonderful," I said humbly. "But love is no unreal, unworthything, either; no sham, no trite cut-and-dried convention, made sillyby sighs and vapours.

  "Oh, Euan, it is! I am so much more to you in my soul than if I merelyloved you. You are so much more to me--the very well-spring of mydesire and pride--my reason for pleasing, my happy consolation and mygratitude.... Seat yourself here on the pleasant, scented grasses andlet me endeavour to explain it once and for all time. Will you?

  "It is this," she continued, taking my hand between hers, when we wereseated, and examining it very intently, as though the screed sherecited were written there on my palm. "We are so marvelously matchedin every measurement and feature, mental and bodily almost--and I am sotruly becoming a vital part of you and you of me, that the miracle istoo perfect, too lofty, too serenely complete to vex it with the lessermagic--the passions and the various petty vexations they entail.

  "For I would become--to honour you--all that your pride would have me.I would please the world for your sake, conquer it both with mind andperson. And you must endeavour to better yourself, day by day, noblyand with high aim, so that the source of my inspiration remain everpure and fresh, and I attain to heights unthinkable save for your faithin me and mine in you."

  She smiled at me, and I said:

  "Aye; but to what end?"

  "To what end, Euan? Why, for our spiritual and worldly profit."

  "Yes, but I love you----"

  "No, no! Not in that manner----"

  "But it is so."

  "No, it is not! We are to be above mere sentiment. Reason rules us."

  "Are we not to wed?"

  "Oh--as for that----" She thought for a while, closely considering mypalm. "Yes--that might some day be a part of it.... When we haveattained to every honour and consideration, and our thoughts anddesires are purged and lifted to serene and lofty heights ofcontemplation. Then it would be natural for us to marry, I suppose."

  "Meanwhile," said I, "youth flies; and I may not lay a finger on you tocaress you."

  "Not to caress me--as that woman did to you----"

  "Lois!"

  "I can not help it. There is in her--in all such women--a sly, smooth,sleek and graceful beast, ever seeming to invite or offer a caress----"

  "She is sweet and womanly; a warm friend of many years."

  "Oh! And am I not--womanly?"

  "Are you, entirely?"

  She looked at me troubled:

  "How would you have me be more womanly?"

  "Be less a comrade, more a sweetheart."

  "Familiar?"

  My heart was beating fast:

  "Familiar to my arms. I love you."

  "I--do not permit myself to desire your arms. Can I help saying so--ifyou ask me?"

  "When I love you so----"

  "No. Why are you, after all, like other men, when I once hoped----"

  "Other men love. All men love. How can I be different----"

  "You are more finely made. You comprehend higher thoughts. You cancommand your lesser passions."

  "You say that very lightly, who have no need to command yours!"

  "How do you know?" she said in a low voice.

  "Because you have none to curb--else you could better understand thegreater ones."

  She sat with head lowered, playing with a blade of grass. After a whileshe looked up at me, a trifle confused.

  "Until I knew you, I entertained but one living passion--to find mymother and hold her in my arms--and have of her all that I had achedfor through many empty and loveless years. Since I have known you thatdesire has never changed. She is my living passion, and my need."

  She bent her head again and sat playing with the scented grasses. Then,half to herself, she said:

  "I think I am still loyal to her if I have placed you beside her in myheart. For I have not yet invested you with a passion less innocentthan that which burns for her."

  She lifted her head slowly, propping herself up on one arm, and lookedintently at me.

  "What do you know about me, that you say I am unwomanly and cold?" Hervoice was low, but the words rang a little.

  "Do not deceive yourself," she said. "I am fashioned for love asthoroughly as are you--for love sacred or profane. But who am I to dareput on my crown of womanhood? Let me first know myself--let me knowwhat I am, and if I truly have even a right to the very name I wear.Let me see my own mother face to face--hold her first of all in myembrace--give my lips first to her, yield to her my first caresses....Else," and her face paled, "I do not know what I might become--I do notknow, I tell you--having been all my life deprived of intimacy--neverhaving known familiar kindness or its lightest caress--and half deadsometimes of the need of it!"

  She straightened up, clenching her hands, then smiled her breathlesslittle smile.

  "Think of it, Euan! For twenty years I have wanted her caresses--orsuch harmless kindness of somebody--almost of anybody! My foster-mothernever kissed me, never put her arm about me--or even laid her handlightly upon my shoulder--as did that girl do to you on the stairs....I tell you, to see her do it went through me like a Shawanese arrow----"

  She forced a mirthless smile, and clasped her fingers across her knee:

  "So bitterly have I missed affection all my life," she added calmly."...And now you come into my life! Why, Euan--and my sentiments weretruly pure and blameless when you were there that night with me on therock under the clustered stars--and I left for you a rose--and my heartwith it!--so dear and welcome was your sudden presence that I couldhave let you fold me in your arms, and so fallen asleep beside you, Iwas that deathly weary of my solitude and ragged isolation."

  She made a listless gesture:

  "It is too late for us to yield to demonstration of your affection now,anyway--not until I find myself safe in the arms that bore me first.God knows how deeply it would affect me if you conquered me, or what Iwould do for very gratitude and happiness under the first closecaress.... Stir not anything of that in me, Euan. Let me not even dreamof it. It were not well for me--not well for me. For whether I love youas I do, or--otherwise and less purely--it would be all the same--and Ishould become--something--which I am not--wedded or otherwise--not myfree self, but
to my lesser self a slave, without ambition,pride--wavering in that fixed resolve which has brought me hither....And I should live and die your lesser satellite, unhappy to the veryend."

  After a silence, I said heavily:

  "Then you have not renounced your purpose?"

  "No."

  "You still desire to go to Catharines-town?"

  "I must go."

  "That was the burden of your conversation with the Sagamore but now?"

  "Yes."

  "He refused to aid you?"

  "He refused."

  "Why, then, are you not content to wait here--or at Albany?"

  She sat for a long while with head lowered, then, looking up quietly:

  "Another pair of moccasins was left outside my door last night."

  "What! At Croghan's? Inside our line!" I exclaimed incredulously.

  "Aye. But this time the message sewed within them differed from all theothers. And on the shred of bark was written: 'Swift moccasins forlittle feet as swift. The long trail opens. Come!'"

  "You think your mother wrote it?" I asked, astounded.

  "Yes.... She wrote the others."

  "Well?"

  "This writing is the same."

  "The same hand that wrote the other messages throughout the years?"

  "The same."

  "Have you told the Sagamore of this?"

  "I told him but now--and for the first time."

  "You told him everything?"

  "Yes--concerning my first finding--and the messages that came everyyear with the moccasins."

  "And did you show him the Indian writing also?"

  "Yes."

  "What did he say?"

  "Nothing. But there flashed up suddenly in his eyes a reddish lightthat frightened me, and his face became so hideous and terrible that Icould have cried out. But I contrived to maintain my composure, and Isaid: 'What do you make of it, O Sagamore?' And he spat out a word Idid not clearly understand----"

  "Amochol?"

  "Yes--it sounded like that. What did he mean, Euan?"

  "I will presently ask him," said I, thoroughly alarmed. "And in themeanwhile, you must now be persuaded to remain at this post. You arecontented and happy here. When we march, you will go back toSchenectady or to Albany with the ladies of the garrison, and waitthere some word of our fate.

  "If we win through, I swear to you that if your mother be there inCatharines-town I will bring news of her, or, God willing, bring herherself to you."

  I rose and aided her to stand; and her hands remained limply in mine.

  "I had rather take you from her arms," I said in a low voice, "----ifyou ever deign to give yourself to me."

  "That is sweetly said.... Such giving leaves the giver unashamed."

  "Could you promise yourself to me?"

  She stood with head averted, watching the last faint stain of colorfade from the west.

  "Would you have me at any cost, Euan?"

  "Any cost."

  "Suppose that when I find my mother--I find no name for myself--savehers?"

  "You shall have mine then."

  "Dear lad!... But--suppose, even then I do not love you--as men meanlove."

  "So that you love no other man, I should still want you."

  "Am I then so vital to you?"

  "Utterly."

  "To how many other women have you spoken thus?" she asked gravely.

  "To none."

  "Truly?"

  "Truly, Lois."

  She said in a low voice:

  "Other men have said it to me.... I have heard them swear it with tearsin their eyes and calling God to witness. And I knew all the while thatthey were lying--perjuring their souls for the sake of a ragged, unripejade, and a wild night's frolic.... Well--God made men.... I knowmyself, too.... To love you as you wish is to care less for you than Ialready do. I would not willingly.... Yet, I may try if you wish it....So that is all the promise I dare make you. Come--take me home now--ifyou care to walk as far with me."

  "And I who am asking you to walk through life with me?" I said, forcinga laugh.

  We turned; she took my arm, and together we moved slowly back throughthe falling dusk.

  And, as we approached her door, came a sudden and furious sound ofgalloping behind us, and we sprang to the side of the road as theexpress thundered by in a storm of dust and driving pebbles.

  "News," she whispered. "Do they bring good news as fast as bad?"

  "It may mean our marching orders," I said, dejected.

  We had now arrived at Croghan's, and she was withdrawing her arm frommine, when the hollow sound of a conch-horn went echoing and boomingthrough the dusk.

  "It does mean your marching orders!" she exclaimed, startled.

  "It most certainly means something," said I. "Good-night--I must runfor the fort----"

  "Are you going to----to leave me?"

  "That horn is calling out Morgan's men----"

  "Am I not to see you again?"

  "Why, yes--I expect so--but if----"

  "Oh! Is there an 'if'?' Euan, are you going away forever?"

  "Dear maid, I don't know yet what has happened----"

  "I do! You are going!... To your death, perhaps--for all I know----"

  "Hush! And good-night----"

  She held to my offered hand tightly:

  "Don't go--don't go----"

  "I will return and tell you if----"

  "'If!' That means you will not return! I shall never see you again!"

  I had flung one arm around her, and she stood with one hand clenchedagainst her lips, looking blankly into my face.

  "Good-bye," I said, and kissed her clenched hand so violently that itslipped sideways on her cheek, bruising her lips.

  She gave a faint gasp and swayed where she stood, very white in theface.

  "I have hurt you," I stammered; but my words were lost in a frightfuluproar bursting from the fort; and:

  "God!" she whispered, cowering against me, as the horrid howlingswelled on the affrighted air.

  "It is only the Oneidas' scalp-yell," said I. "They know the news.Their death-halloo means that the corps of guides is ordered out.Good-bye! You have means to support you now till I return. Wait for me;love me if it is in you to love such a man. Whatever the event, mydevotion will not alter. I leave you in God's keeping, dear. Good-bye."

  Her hand was still at her bruised lips; I bent forward; she moved itaside. But I kissed only her hand.

  Then I turned and ran toward the fort; and in the torch-light at thegate encountered Boyd, who said to me gleefully:

  "It's you and your corps of guides! The express is from Clinton.Hanierri remains; the Sagamore goes with you; but the regiment is notmarching yet awhile. Lord help us! Listen to those beastly Oneidas intheir paint! Did you ever hear such a wolf-pack howling! Well, Loskiel,a safe and pleasant scout to you." He offered his hand. "I'll bestrolling back to Croghan's. Fare you safely!"

  "And you," I said, not thinking, however, of him. But I thought ofLana, and wished to God that Boyd were with us on this midnight march,and Lana safe in Albany once more.

  As I entered the fort, through the smoky flare of torches, I saw DollyGlenn waiting there; and as I passed she gave a frightened exclamation.

  "Did you wish to speak to me?" I asked.

  "Is--is Lieutenant Boyd going with you?" she stammered.

  "No, child."

  She thanked me with a pitiful sort of smile, and shrank back into thedarkness.

  I remained but a few moments with Major Parr and Captain Simpson; arifleman of my own company, Harry Kent, brought me my pack andrifle--merely sufficient ammunition and a few necessaries--for we wereto travel lightly. Then Captain Simpson went away to inspect the Oneidascouts.

  "I wish you well," said the Major quietly. "Guard the Mohican as youwould the apple of your eye, and--God go with you, Euan Loskiel."

  I saluted, turned squarely, and walked out across the parade to thepostern. Here I saw Captain Simpson inspecting
the four guides, one ofwhom, to me, seemed unnecessarily burdened with hunting shirt andblanket.

  Running my eye along their file, where they stood in the uncertaintorchlight, I saw at once that the guides selected by Major Parr werenot all Oneidas. Two of them seemed to be; a third was a StockbridgeIndian; but the fourth--he with the hunting-shirt and double blanket,wore unfamiliar paint.

  "What are you?" said I in the Oneida dialect, trying to gain a squarelook at him in the shifty light.

  "Wyandotte," he said quietly.

  "Hell!" said I, turning to Captain Simpson. "Who sends me a Wyandotte?"

  "General Clinton," replied Simpson in surprise. "The Wyandotte camefrom Fortress Pitt. Colonel Broadhead, commanding our left wing, senthim, most highly recommending him for his knowledge of the Susquehannaand Tioga."

  I took another hard look at the Wyandotte.

  "You should travel lighter," said I. "Split that Niagara blanket androll your hunting-shirt."

  The savage looked at me a moment, then his sinewy arms flew up and hesnatched the deerskin shirt from his naked body. The next instant hisknife fairly leaped from its beaded sheath; there was a flash of steel,a ripping sound, and his blue and scarlet blanket lay divided. Half ofit he flung to a rifleman, and the other half, with his shirt, herolled and tied to his pack.

  Such zeal and obedience pleased me, and I smiled and nodded to him. Heshowed his teeth at me, which I fancied was his mode of smiling. But itwas somewhat hideous, as his nose had been broken, and the unpleasantdent in it made horridly conspicuous by a gash of blood-red paint.

  I buckled my belt and pack and picked up my rifle. Captain Simpsonshook hands with me. At the same moment, the rifleman sent to ourbush-hut to summon the Mohican returned with him. And a finer sight Inever saw; for the tall and magnificently formed Siwanois was inscarlet war-paint from crown to toe, oiled, shaven save for the lock,and crested with a single scarlet plume--and heaven knows where he gotit, for it was not dyed, but natural.

  His scarlet and white beaded sporran swung to his knees; his anklemoccasins were quilled and feathered in red and white; the Erie scalpshung from his girdle, hooped in red, and he bore only a lightpack-slung, besides his rifle and short red blanket.

  "Salute, O Sagamore! Roya-neh!" I said in a low voice, passing him.

  He smiled, then his features became utterly blank, as one by one theeyes of the other Indians flashed on his for a moment, then shiftedwarily elsewhere.

  I made a quick gesture, turned, and started, heading the file out intothe darkness.

  And as we advanced noiselessly and swung west into the Otsego road, Iwas aware of a shadow on my right--soft hands outstretched--a faintwhisper as I kissed her tightening fingers. Then I ran on to head thatpainted file once more, and for a time continued to lead at hazard,blinded with tears.

  And it was some minutes before I was conscious of the Mohican's handupon my arm, guiding my uncertain feet through the star-shot dark.