The Plowshare and the Sword: A Tale of Old Quebec

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  THE EVERLASTING HILLS.

  After their escape from the dangerous region of the fortress on thatnight of battle, Van Vuren and his band made towards the far-distantcountry watered by the Hudson, travelling under the guidance of Pietervon Donck across the unfrequented territory, over balsamic hills ofspruce, through swamps and thickets, and across a desert of dustystone, until they reached a range of green mountains which made animmense backbone along the land. Here they halted, and the note ofargument was raised. Van Vuren had developed a sullen mood, induced byjealousy of Von Donck, who had taken the office of leader upon himself,and at this point he turned upon the sailor and a heated battle ofwords ensued. The captain indicated the flat district spreadingwestward, and confidently declared that the route lay there. His menobediently turned to follow, with the exception of Von Donck, who, whenhis argument failed, separated himself forthwith from the company.

  "Take then your inland path," he shouted at them angrily. "You shallin due time come among the savage Adirondacks, where the Mohawks dwellunconquered, and where all manner of wild beasts fill the fastnesses.No white man has preceded you there. This way I smell the sea. Keepyour course, captain, if you will not be ruled by me. I am for NewAmsterdam and the hostel beside San Nicolas."

  "Pieter knows the land," urged Dutoit.

  "Go then with the stubborn fool," replied Van Vuren hotly. "Follow me,my men. This way for the sea!"

  The rest of the company succumbed to discipline and followed theirleader, though with manifest unwillingness; while Von Donck gave themover to their fate and travelled alone into the green hills.

  What befell Van Vuren and his company history relateth not. It iscertain that they were never taken by the French, because the partywhich Roussilac had sent out returned in due course to the fortress,and reported that they had failed to discover any trace of thetraitors. But at a later date there went a story about Hudson's river,concerning a party of Dutchmen said to be haunting the spurs of theAdirondacks, weather-beaten men, wrinkled and long-bearded, their feetcovered with scraps of hide, their clothes eked out by furs,continually setting out upon a journey, but always returning to theirstarting-point. Still later, after New Amsterdam had been conquered bythe English and had received the name of New York, mothers would oftenfrighten their errant children with the tale of the lost Dutchmen whowandered about the north, their beards dragging on the stones andtangling among the bush, watching the sun by day and the stars bynight, and sometimes separating as though in anger, but only to combineagain and renew the hopeless search. Probably Van Vuren and his menwere destroyed by the fierce Mohawks; possibly they fell a prey to theanimals which roamed in their thousands among the Adirondacks, orperished of want after their ammunition became exhausted; the one factis certain that not one of them ever reached the sea-blown country ofthe Manhattoes.

  While this fatal dissension took place Geoffrey was crossing the plainsupon the further side of the green mountains, only a short distanceahead. He had made excellent progress, concealing himself cleverlyfrom bands of marauding Indians, guiding his feet by the constellationsat night, and searching by day for the tree-moss which delicatelyfurred the north side only of the hemlock boles; but there stillremained over two hundred miles of wild country between him and thetown of Boston. He tramped on, unheeding sore feet, feeling the spiritof brave Madeleine at his side, averting the perils of night, guidinghis feet accurately southward. As time went on, and he reflected howgreat was the distance he had already traversed, the joy of life becameso strong that he could have flung away his sword and dared the worldwith bare hands.

  Two weeks had passed since that parting from his comrades; and on theevening of the fourteenth day he broke from the bush and for somemoments stood bewildered at the scene before him, blinking his eyes,and longing to step back into the greenwood shade.

  White masses of mountain glowed ahead, peaks and crags all glitteringin the sun like a huge cascade streaming down from the clouds; rangesof pure crystal, polished like glass, and edged with rose-pink by thecolours of the western sky; snow-white gorges of milky quartz, andsilver cataracts flung in foam from the whiteness above to the greenbelow.

  "These," he said softly, with a thrill of old-world superstition,"these must surely be the great crystal mountains where the Iroquoisbelieve that the gods dwell."

  He hurried on, his eyes watering because of the dazzling lightreflected from those crystal walls; and as he went he turned to lover'sthoughts, and determined that, after all, the sun glow upon the whitepeaks was not one-half so lovely as the flush upon Madeleine's softcheek. Here before him was Nature's finest insentient handiwork. Itwas glowing and full of music, but its loveliness lacked life, and itswarmth was borrowed from the sun. It was only beautiful as a part ofthe environment of the life of the soul. How he longed for Madeleineto stand at his side and behold those everlasting hills in splendourand the sun swimming in red! And with that longing he halfunconsciously breathed the healthful text to which she had attuned herhappy soul, "It is life--glorious, everlasting life!"

  Vitality rose to its full height within Geoffrey's body; and when hefelt no more the weight of his heavy kit, he ran over the broken groundand up the narrow gorge, until two white walls closed him gently intothe panting bosom of the crystal hills.

  "Here is the home of fairies," he exclaimed, when he stopped at a greatheight, and looked upon three tiny lakes which made a trinity ofmotionless mirrors decked by feathers of cloud, the water like whitewine brimming in great bowls of granite.

  Immediately a gentle voice was wafted through the air, "Here is thehome of fairies," and after a pause the information was repeated likethe warble of a weary bird, the last notes dying inaudible around thecliffs.

  Geoffrey dared not speak again. The genius of the place was over him,waiting to give a signal to the expectant choir. Footfalls precededthe traveller, the echo of his own. The many-mouthed King of theMountains pattered before him, breathing the stranger a gentle welcometo the district which he ruled. Geoffrey crept on tiptoe to the edgeof the nearest pool, until he could see the weedless rock-bottom andthe land-locked salmon lying near the surface, gently fanning their redfins, and watching him with wondering eyes. Seating himself, thetraveller bathed his weary feet and watched the water swallows, dartingand splashing, snatching the fat flies which spotted the surface likedrops of rain, sucking them in and pushing out their little black nosesfor more.

  The sun went down and a chill crept into the wind. Geoffrey left theenchanted spot, and the salmon shooting like silver arrows through thedarkening pool, and, again ascending, entered a richly-wooded glenthrough which a cascade ran in a white thread; and here, close to awinding path beaten out by the feet of mountain sheep, he pitched hiscamp and ate his frugal meal of dried meat, which he eked out by a fewearly berries and some sweet roots of the wood althaea.

  The light went out from the long day as he sank into dreams ofMadeleine. He pictured her swaying among the scented grasses of thelowlands, or breathing a prayer for his welfare while she awaited theevening star in the faint blue of the sky. He saw her leaning from thehill-top watching the southern line, and bounding joyously away whenshe found the sky all clear. He imagined her lying asleep with hermind awake for him; and he believed that in his sleep her sweet dreamswould cause his lips to open and his tongue to call her name.

  A rustling in the near bush recalled him to the present. He thoughtthe sound was occasioned by some restless bird, but when thedisturbance became more decided, he rose, alert, and, putting out ahand for his bow, shrank back into a place of shelter. Hardly had hedone so when a thicket of willow shivered and parted.

  The watcher saw two savage eyes aglow like lamps, and as he sank to theground and remained motionless as a figure of stone, a great pantherslouched into the open, with its nose upon the ground.

  The creature passed, blowing up the dust as though following a freshscent. Geoffrey noticed with a thrill of
relief that the ground it wasintent upon was not that which he had traversed. When the huge cat hadcrawled into the bush, he drew out one of his few remaining arrows andcautiously followed; but not more than twenty paces had he advancedinto the clinging bush when there came to him for the first time duringhis wanderings the exclamation of a human voice.

  Geoffrey plunged forward recklessly until he saw a circular openingsuch as Nature delights to make in her laying out of the densestforest. The cataract formed the left; a bank of trees rose to theright; opposite him a big man sat in the half light, holding asmouldering pipe, his eyes fixed in terror upon the panther, which layupon its belly half a dozen yards away, growling and lashing its tailin its savage cat's joy. The man was unarmed. He had left his packand weapons under a shelf of white rock which gleamed behind.

  Viner edged nearer, but as he stirred a twig snapped and the pantherlooked round, its eyes full of fire and blood. At the same moment thestout man discovered his rescuer and a flush of colour returned to hisbloodless cheeks. Keeping his eyes upon the enemy, he began to crawltowards the rock, shouting as he went: "Drive at him, boy. Send ashaft through his neck, and Pieter von Donck shall stand your friendfor life."

  The bolt, well-aimed by the boy's cool hands, sprang that instant intothe beast's shoulder. As it felt the sting of the barb, the pantherroared and leapt mightily into the bush, landing upon the exact spotwhich Geoffrey had cleverly vacated in time to save his life. AgainVon Donck bellowed like a bull:

  "Let him have one such another, comrade. Then into the bush and dodgehim. I have powder here and ball."

  Geoffrey hurriedly slipped another arrow along the groove of hiscross-bow and secured the string. Quick as he was, the great cat wasquicker. It hurled itself upon the tree behind which its enemy hadtaken shelter, and its iron claws wrenched off great flakes of bark.Again Geoffrey saved himself by leaping back, but the panther was up atthe rebound and on him. For the third time Geoffrey dodged, and indoing so released the string, and the bolt, by happy chance, piercedthe demon in the chest as it descended. The next instant Geoffrey wasfelled to the moss. But this effort was the panther's last. Anexplosion shook the bush, there came a villainous smell of saltpetre, awhirl of smoke, and the mountain cat fell upon its side, quivered, andlay dead.

  "A brave invention this powder," snorted Von Donck triumphantly out ofthe smoke. "But methinks too costly save for an emergency." He brokeoff and muttered into his beard: "A thousand devils! The boy isEnglish."

  "A strange meeting, friend," said Geoffrey, as he rose somewhat blindlyto his feet.

  "Adventure makes many an alliance," quoth the Dutchman. "Were youblack, or brown, or yellow man, I would take your hand and swear tostand your friend. You have saved my life, boy. Nay, deny it not, andat the further risk of your own. By my soul, the brute has clawed yourshoulder. This must be seen to. Come, lie you here, while I bringwater and wash the wound and bind it up as best I can. A pestilencedestroy these same unholy animals. They strike a man like lightning."

  "If I have saved your life, you have done as much for me," saidGeoffrey. "Let us divide the honours."

  "A hand-shake upon that," cried the hearty Dutchman. "We are enemiesby blood, boy. You have fought against my people before this night,and are like, I doubt not, to do so again. The Puritans ofMassachusetts have their eyes upon our New Netherlands. You and I mayyet meet upon opposite sides in the battle; but may God forge athunderbolt for my destruction if I do not seek to preserve the life ofone who has shed his blood for me. I suspect, boy, you are no trueEnglishman. I dare swear your father or mother came of a good Dutchstock."

  "I am English born and bred," said Geoffrey. "I could wish you werethe same," he boldly added.

  "Out, jester!" said the big man as he went down to the cataract. "Itis your envy speaking. Black never made itself whiter by longing."

  The Dutchman returned with his hat half filled with water and attendedto the injuries of his new friend, with podgy hands which were but alittle less rough than the nature of the man who owned them. Everyprotestation on the part of his patient he silenced by a growl. Whenthe slight flesh-wound had been bandaged, he replenished the fire tokeep other mountain cats at bay, and they sat together under the whitewall, Von Donck occupied in skinning the defunct panther, chattingnoisily the while.

  "Do you wonder that I speak your language when I have been brought upto a better?" he observed as the soft night grew upon them. "A soldierof fortune must needs pick up all he can, grains and chaff alike. Manyyears past, before that yellow hair of yours had grown to trouble amaiden's heart--Ah, that blush was good. Shall repeat the phrase.Before that yellow hair had grown to win a Dutchman's heart--see how Ispare your blushes to hurt your pride--I served under Hendrick Hudson,who called himself English, though plague me if I could ever tell whatwas English in him save his oaths. I promise you he could ring anEnglish oath to drown the best of yours. To-morrow will tell you how Isailed with him up the Mohican river which now bears his name. 'Tis ahappy day for you, young comrade. Your future wife and children shallbless this day--when you and old Pieter met. Plague the lad! His faceis like a poppy in a corn-field. Shall stand together, youngyellow-head, till the end of this journey. I do not seek to learn yourbusiness, but you shall know mine. I am going home, boy, back to SanNicolas by the sea, and there shall grow a yet rounder belly, and telltravellers' tales, and toss my neighbours' children upon my knee. Weshall part in New England, enemies if you will, but until we reach thefields of the Puritans we stand together, and the Indians that burn youshall burn me also."

  "How come you to be travelling alone?" asked Geoffrey.

  "When you reach my age, young whipster, you shall learn that questionsare like thistle-seed, tossed here and there, serving no better purposethan the sowing of a fresh weed-crop. I ask no question, but I knowthat you carry a despatch to your Puritans in the south. See howshrewdly I have hit it. Until two days back I travelled with mycompany, but when they chose the way which leads to destruction I leftthem. They have gone to the devil, and I am for the sea. At thispresent time I am for sleep. When the moon touches yonder ridge, wakeme and I will take my watch. This panther's family may be on theprowl."

  "'Tis a fine skin," said Geoffrey, indicating the striped coat whichVon Donck was stretching along the rock.

  "Will look well upon my shoulders," said Pieter complacently. "'Tismine by hunter's right. Shall swagger about New Amsterdam in it andshame the burgomaster. At nights will sit in the hostel and say how Ikilled him with mine own hand. The folk shall not believe, but I shallhave the hunter's satisfaction of making a brave show. By San Nicolas,the brute shall not die so easily when I come to tell the story."

  The garrulous old sailor made a bed of grass and moss, and prepared tosleep. Suddenly he broke into a deep laugh, and lifted his hand toindicate a crystal ridge towards which the moon was drawing. "See youhow yonder granite is shaped into a man's face?" he said. "And, as Ilive to sin, a likeness of mine own. See there my crooked nose andflabby forehead and my hanging lips? Behold my beauty, boy, and bearin mind that Pieter von Donck and yourself are the first travellers inthese crystal mountains. Ah, Pieter von Donck! Pieter von Donck!" hecontinued in a shout, lifting himself upon his elbow, and shaking hisfist at the massive face of granite. "You sleep well yonder, Piet vonDonck. May you sleep as soundly for ten thousand years. Now, boy,remember me in your prayers, but see that you put me not before yoursweet maid. God forbid that you should put an ancient rogue beforeher. Forget not to shake me by the shoulder when the moon snuffs thenose of yonder old man of the mountains."

  He fell back and soon began to snore, while Geoffrey watched the sternstone profile and the moon rolling serenely over the crystal heights;and as he watched he drifted away into dreams.

  These aerial castles toppled and fell when there came to his ears fromthe adjoining valley a disturbance, which might have been occasioned bymountain gnomes beating the rock with
hammers of iron.