Chapter XIV
My Comrade Shoots Excellently Well
From a medley of dreams, in which I saw Mizpah binding the Black Abbewith cords of her own hair--tight, tighter, till they ate into hisflesh, and I trembled at the look of shaking horror in his face; inwhich then I saw the child chasing butterflies before the door of theForge in the Forest, and heard Babin's hammer beating musically on hisanvil, till the sound became the chiming of the Angelus over the roofsand walls of Quebec, where Mizpah and I walked hand fast together onthe topmost bastion,--from such a fleeting and blending confusion asthis, I woke to feel a hand laid softly on my face in the dark. Ineeded no seeing to tell me whose was the hand, so slim, so cool, sosoftly firm; and I had much ado to keep my lips from reverently kissingit.
"Monsieur, Monsieur," came the whisper, "what is that noise, thatvoice?"
"Pardon me, comrade, for sleeping so soundly," I murmured, sitting up,and taking her hand in mine with a rough freedom of goodwill, as merelyto reassure her. "What is it you hear?"
But before she could reply, I heard it myself, a strange, chanting cry,slow and plangent, from far out upon the water. Presently I caught thewords, and knew the voice.
"Woe, woe to Acadie the fair," it came solemnly, "for the day of herdesolation draws nigh!"
"It is Grul," said I, "passing in his canoe, on some strange errand ofhis."
"Grul? Who is Grul?" she questioned, clinging a little to my hand, andthen dropping it suddenly.
"A quaint madman of these parts," said I; "and yet I think his madnessis in some degree a feigning. He has twice done me inestimableservice--once warning us of an immediate peril, and again yesterday, inleading us to the spot where you were held captive. For some reasonunknown to me, he has a marvellous kindness for me and mine. But theBlack Abbe he hates in deadly fashion--for some ancient andineffaceable wrong, if the tale tell true."
"And he brought you to us?" she murmured, with a sort of stillness inher voice, which caught me strangely.
"Yes, Grul did!" said I.
And then there was silence between us, and we heard the mysterious andsolemn voice passing, and dying away in the distance. My ears at lastbeing released from the tension of listening, my eyes began to serveme, and through the branches I marked a grayness spreading in the sky.
"We must be stirring, Madame," said I, rising abruptly to my feet."Let us take our bread down to the brook and eat it there."
But she was already gone, snatching up the sack of bread; and in a fewminutes, having righted the canoe and carried it down to a convenientlanding-place, I joined her. She was stretched flat beside a littlebasin of the brook, her cap off, her hair in a tight coil high upon herhead, her sleeves pulled up, while she splashed her face and arms inthe running coolness. Without pulling down her sleeves or resuming hercap, she seated herself on a stone and held out to me a piece of bread.In the coldly growing dawn her hair and lips were colourless, thewhiteness of her arms shadowy and spectral. Then as we slowly made ourmeal, I bringing water for her in my drinking-horn, the rose and fireand violet of sunrise began to sift down into our valley and show meagain the hues of life in Mizpah's face. I sprang up, handed her thewoollen cap, and tried hard to keep my eyes from dwelling upon thesweet and gracious curves of her arms.
"Aboard! Aboard!" I cried, and moved off in a bustling fashion to getthe paddles. In a few minutes we were under way, thrusting out fromthe shore, and pushing through myriad little curling wisps of vapour,which rose in pale hues of violet and pink all over the oil-smoothsurface of the tide.
For some time we paddled in silence. Then, when the sun's first raysfell fairly upon us, I exclaimed lightly:--
"You must pull down your sleeves, comrade."
"Why?" she asked quickly, turning her head and pausing in her stroke.
"For two excellent reasons besides the captain's orders," said I. "Inthe first place, your arms will get so sore with sunburn, that youwon't be able to do your fair share of the work. In the second place,if we should meet any strangers, it would be difficult to persuade themthat those arms were manly enough for a wood-ranger."
"Oh," she said quickly, and pulled down the sleeves in some confusion.
All that morning we made excellent progress, with the help of a lightfollowing wind. When the sun was perhaps two hours high, the mouth ofthe Shubenacadie opened before us; and because this river was the greathighway of the Black Abbe's red people, I ran the canoe in shore andconcealed it till I had climbed a bluff near by and scanned the lowerreaches of the stream. Finding all clear, we put out again, and withthe utmost haste paddled past the mouth. Not till we were behind thefurther point, and running along under the shelter of a high bank, didI breathe freely. Then I praised Mizpah, for in that burst of speedher skill and force had amazed me.
But she turned upon me with the question which I had looked for.
"If that is the Black Abbe's river," said she, with great eyes fixingmine, "and the Indians have gone that way, why do we pass by?"
"I owe you an explanation, comrade," said I. "I think in alllikelihood, that way leads straight to your child; but if we went thatway, we would be the Abbe's prisoners within the next hour,--and howwould we help the child then? Oh, no; I am bound for the Black Abbe'sback door. A few leagues beyond this lies the River des Saumons, andon its banks is a settlement of our Acadian folk. Many of them are ofthe Abbe's following, and all fear him; but I have there two faithfulmen who are in the counsels of the Forge. One of these dwells some twomiles back from the river, half a league this side of the village. Iwill go to him secretly, and send him on to the Shubenacadie forinformation. Then we will act not blindly."
To this of course she acquiesced at once, as being the only wise way;but for all that, with each canoe-length that we left the Shubenacadiebehind, the more did her paddle lag. The impulse seemed all gone outof her. Soon therefore I bade her lay down the blade and rest. In alittle, when she had lain a while with her face upon her arms,--whetherwaking or not I could not tell, for she kept her face turned away fromme,--she became herself again.
No long while after noon, we ran into the mouth of the des Saumons. Iwas highly elated with the success that had so far attended us,--thespeed we had made, our immunity from hindrance and question. We landedto eat our hasty meal, but paused not long to rest, being urged now bythe keen spur of imagined nearness to our goal. Some two hours more ofbrisk paddling brought us to a narrow and winding creek, up which Iturned. For some furlongs it ran through a wide marsh, but at lengthone bank grew high and copsy. Here I put the canoe to land, andstepped ashore, bidding Mizpah keep her place.
Finding the spot to my liking, I pulled the canoe further up on thesoft mud, and astonished Mizpah by telling her that I must carry her upthe bank.
"But why?" she cried. "I can walk, Monsieur, as well as I could thismorning--though I _am_ a little stiff," she added naively.
"The good soldier asks not why," said I, with affected severity. "ButI will tell you. In case any one _should_ come in my absence, theremust be but one track visible, and that track mine, leading up and awaytoward the settlement. You must lie hidden in that thicket, and keepguard. Do you understand, Madame?"
"Yes," said she,--"but how can you?--I am awfully heavy."
I laughed softly, picked her up as I would a child, and carried her tothe edge of the woods, where I let her down on one end of a fallen tree.
"Now, comrade," said I, "if you will go circumspectly along this logyou will leave no trace. Hide yourself in the thicket there close tothe canoe, keep your pistols primed, and watch till I come back,--andthe blessed Virgin guard you!" I added, with a sudden fervour.
Then, having lifted the canoe altogether clear of the water, I setforth at a swinging trot for Martin's farm.
I found my trusty habitant at home, and ready to do any errand of mineere I could speak it. But when I told him what I wanted of him hestarted in some excitement.
"Why, Monsieur," he cr
ied, "I have the very tidings you seek. I myselfsaw a canoe with two Indians pass up the river this morning; and theyhad a little child with them,--a child with long yellow hair."
"Up _this_ river!" I exclaimed. "Then whither can they be taking him?"
"They did not leave him in the village," answered Martin, positively,"for the word goes that they passed on up in great haste. By the routethey have taken, they are clearly bound for the Straits--"
"Ay, they'll cross to the head of the Pictook, and descend thatstream," said I. "But which way will they turn then?"--For I wassurprised and confused at the information.
"Well, Monsieur," said Martin, "when they get to the Straits, whoknows? They may be going across to Ile St. Jean. They may turn southto Ile Royale; for the English, I hear, have no hold there, save atLouisburg and Canseau. Or they may turn north toward Miramichi. Whoknows--save the Black Abbe?"
"I must overtake them," said I, resolutely. "Good-bye, my friend andthank you. If all goes well, you will get a summons from the Forge erethe moon is again at the full;" and I made haste back to the spot whereMizpah waited.
As I swung along, I congratulated myself on the good fortune which hadso held me to the trail. Then I fell to thinking of my comrade, andthe wonder of the situation, and the greater wonder of her eyes andhair,--which thoughts sped the time so sweetly that ere I could believeit I saw before me the overhanging willows, and the thicket by thestream. Then I stopped as if I had been struck in the face, and shookwith a sudden fear.
At my very feet, fallen across the dead tree which I have alreadymentioned, lay the body of an Indian. Every line of the loose,sprawled body told me that he had met an instant death,--and a bullethole in his back showed me the manner of it. Only for a second did Ipause. Then I sprang into the thicket, with a horror catching at myheart. There was Mizpah lying on her face,--and a hoarse cry brokefrom my lips. But even as I flung myself down beside her I saw thatshe was not dead. No, she was shaking with sobs,--and the naturalnessof it, strange to say, reassured me on the instant. I made to lifther, when she sprang at once to her feet, and looked at me wildly. Itook her hand, to comfort her; but she drew it away, and gazed upon itwith a kind of shrinking horror.
I understood now what had happened. Nevertheless, knowing not just thebest thing to say, I asked her what was the matter.
"Oh," she cried, covering her eyes, "I killed him. He threw up hishands, and groaned, and fell like a log. How could I do it? How couldI do it?"
I tried to assure her that she had done well; but finding that shewould pay me no heed, I went to look at her victim. I turned him over,and muttered a thanksgiving to Heaven as I recognized him for one ofthe worst of the Black Abbe's flock. I found his tracks all about thecanoe. Then I went back to Mizpah.
"Good soldier! Good comrade!" said I, earnestly. "You have killedLittle Fox, the blackest and cruelest rogue on the whole Shubenacadie.Oh, I tell you you have done a good deed this day!"
The knowledge of this appeared to ease her somewhat, and in a fewmoments I gathered the details. The Indian had come suddenly to thebank, and seeing a canoe there had examined it curiously,--she, thewhile, waiting in great fear, for she had at once recognized him as oneof her former captors, and one of whom she stood in special dread.While looking at our things in the canoe, he had appeared all at onceto understand. He had picked up my coat, and examined itcarefully,--and the grin that disclosed his long teeth disclosed alsothat he recognized it. Looking to the priming of his musket, hestarted cautiously up the bank upon my trail.
"As soon as he left the canoe," said Mizpah, still shaken with sobs, "Iknew that something must be done. If he went away, it would be just togive the alarm, and then we could not escape, and Philip would be lostforever. But I saw that, instead of going away, he was going to trackyou and shoot you down. I didn't know what to do, or how I could evershoot a man in cold blood,--but something _made_ me do it. Just as hereached the end of the log, I seemed to see him already shooting you,away in the woods over there,--and then I fired. And oh, oh, oh, Ishall never forget how he groaned and fell over!" And she stared ather right hand.
"Comrade," said I, "I owe my life to you. He _would_ have shot medown; for, as I think of it, I went carelessly, and seldom lookedbehind when I got into the woods. To be so incautious is not my way,believe me. I know not how it was, unless I so trusted the comradewhom I had left behind to guard my trail. And now, here are news!They have brought the child this way, up this very river! The saintshave surely led us thus far, for we are hot upon their track!"
And this made her forget to weep for the excellence of her shooting.