IX THE GIANT IROQUOIS
At dawn Hugh woke and found his half-brother stirring.
"I go to see how the lake appears," Blaise explained.
"I'll go with you," was Hugh's reply, and Blaise nodded assent.
They crawled out from under the canoe, and, leaving the beach, climbed upthe rocky cross bar of the T-shaped point. The younger boy in the lead,they crossed the rough, rock summit, pushing their way among stuntedevergreens and bushes now leafed out into summer foliage. Suddenly Blaisepaused, turned his head and laid his finger on his lips. Hugh strainedhis ears to listen, but could catch no sound but the whining cry of asea-gull and the rippling of the water on the outer rocks. Blaise hadsurely heard something, for he dropped on hands and knees and creptforward. Hugh followed in the same manner, trying to move as noiselesslyas the Indian lad. With all his caution, he could not avoid a slightrustling of undergrowth and bushes. Blaise turned his head again torepeat his gesture of silence.
After a few yards of this cautious progress, Blaise came to a stop.Crawling up beside his brother, Hugh found himself on the edge of a steeprock declivity. Lying flat, screened by an alder and a small balsam fir,he looked out across the water. He saw what Blaise had heard. Only a fewhundred feet away were two canoes, three men in each. Even at that shortdistance Hugh could barely detect the sound of the dipping paddles andthe water rippling about the prows. His respect for his half-brother'spowers of hearing increased.
The sun had not yet risen, but the morning was clear of fog or haze. Asthe first canoe passed, the figures of the men stood out clear againstlake and sky. Hugh's attention was attracted to the man in the stern.Indeed that man was too notable and unusual a figure to escape attention.A gigantic fellow, he towered, even in his kneeling position, a good footabove his companions. A long eagle feather upright from the band abouthis head made him appear still taller, while his huge shoulders andbig-muscled arms were conspicuous as he wielded his paddle on the leftside of the canoe.
Hugh heard Blaise at his side draw a quick breath. "Ohrante!" hewhispered in his elder brother's ear. "Do not stir!"
Obeying that whispered command, Hugh lay motionless, bearing with Spartanfortitude the stinging of the multitude of mosquitoes that surroundedhim. When both canoes had rounded a point farther up the shore andvanished from sight, Blaise rose to his feet. Hugh followed his example,and they made their way back across the rocks in silence. By the timecamp was reached, the elder brother was almost bursting with curiosity.Who was the huge Indian, and why had Blaise been so startled, evenfrightened, at the sight of him?
"Who is Ohrante?" Hugh asked, as he helped to lift the canoe from thepoles that propped it.
"He is more to be feared than the devil of the lake himself," was thegrim reply. Then briefly Blaise told how the big Indian, the summerbefore, had treacherously robbed and slain a white trader and hadseverely wounded his Ojibwa companion, scalped him and left him to die.The wounded man had not died, though he would always be a cripple. He hadtold the tale of the attack, and a party of Ojibwas, led by Hugh'sfather, had pursued Ohrante and captured him. They were taking him backto stand trial by Indian law or to be turned over to whitejustice,--there was some disagreement between Jean Beaupre and hiscompanions as to which course should be followed,--when the giant madehis escape through the help of two of the party who secretly sympathizedwith him and had fled with him. From that day until this morning, when hehad recognized the big Indian in the passing canoe, Blaise had heardnothing of Ohrante.
"But two men went with him when he fled," the boy concluded. "Now he hasfive. He is bold to return so soon. I am glad he goes up the shore, notdown. I should not wish to follow him or have him follow us. He hated ourfather and nothing would please him more than to get us in his hands. Ihope my mother is with others, a strong party. I think Ohrante will notrisk an encounter with the Ojibwas again so soon, unless it be with twoor three only."
"Isn't he an Ojibwa himself?" Hugh asked.
"No, he is a Mohawk, one of the Iroquois wolves the Englishmen havebrought into the Ojibwa country to hunt and trap for the Old Company. Itis said his mother was an Ojibwa captive, but Ohrante is an evil Iroquoisall through."
"Monsieur Cadotte says the bringing in of Iroquois hunters is unwisepolicy," Hugh remarked.
"The company never did a worse thing," Blaise replied passionately. "TheIroquois hunters trap and shoot at all seasons of the year. They aregreedy for pelts good and bad, and care not how quickly they strip thecountry of beasts of all kinds. If the company brings in many more ofthese thieving Iroquois, the Ojibwa, to whom the land belongs, will soonbe left without furs or food."
"That is short-sighted policy for the company itself, it seems to me,"commented Hugh.
"So our father said. He too hated the Iroquois intruders. He told the menof the company they did ill to bring strange hunters into lands wherethey had no right. Let the Iroquois keep to their own hunting grounds.Here they do nothing but harm, and Ohrante is the worst of them all."
Hugh had scarcely heard the last part of the lad's speech. His mind wasoccupied with a thought which had just come to him. "Do you think," heasked suddenly, "that it was Ohrante who killed father?"
"I had not thought it till I saw him passing by," Blaise replied gravely."I believed it might be another enemy. Now I know not what to think. Icannot believe the traders have brought Ohrante back to hunt and trap forthem. And my heart is troubled for my mother. Once when she was a girlshe was a captive among the Sioux. To be captured by Ohrante would beeven worse, and now there is no Jean Beaupre to take her away."
"Do you mean that father rescued her from the Sioux?" Hugh asked insurprise.
"He found her among the Sioux far south of here on the great river. Shewas sad because she had been taken from her own people. So he bought herfrom the chief who wished to make her his squaw. Then our father broughther to the Grand Portage. There the priest married them. She was veryyoung then, young and beautiful. She is not old even now, and she isstill beautiful," Blaise added proudly.
Hugh had listened to this story with amazement. Had he misjudged his ownfather? Was it to be wondered at that the warm-hearted young Frenchmanshould have taken the only possible way to save the sad Ojibwa girl fromcaptivity among the cruel Sioux? The elder son felt ashamed of his bitterthoughts. Blaise loved his mother and was anxious about her. Hugh triedto comfort his younger brother as well as he could.
"The willow wand showed that your mother had gone up the shore," hehastened to say. "Ohrante is not coming from that way, but from theopposite direction, and there are no women in his canoes. Surely yourmother is among friends by this time, and Ohrante, the outlaw, will neverdare attack them."
"That is true," Blaise replied. "She cannot have fallen into his hands,and he, with so few followers, will not dare make open war." He wassilent for a moment. Then he said earnestly, "There is but one thing forus to do. We must first find the wreck and the cache, as our father badeus. Then we must track down his murderer."
Hugh nodded in perfect agreement. "Let us get our breakfast and be awaythen."
Blaise was untying the package of maple sugar. He took out a piece andhanded it to Hugh. "We make no fire here," he said abruptly. "TheIroquois is not yet far away. He might see the smoke. We will go now.When the wind rises again we can eat."
Hugh was hungry, but he had no wish to attract the attention of the hugeMohawk and his band. So he made no objection, but nibbled his lump ofsugar as he helped to load the canoe and launch it. Before the sun peepedover the far-away line where lake and sky met, the two lads were well ontheir way again.