Chapter VI
Grul
The undergrowth into which we had now come was thick and hindering, sothere was no further chance of speech. A few minutes more and we cameout upon the seaward slope of the point. We pushed straight down tothe water, here sheltered from the wind and little troubled. That ourfootprints might be hidden, at least for a time, we ran, one behind theother, along the lip of the tide, where the water was about ankle deep.In the stillness our splashing sounded dangerously loud, and Tamin, yetin a grumbling humour, spoke of it.
"But you forget, my friend," said I, gently, "that there is noise andto spare where our enemies are,--across there in the wind!"
In a moment Tamin spoke again, pointing some little way ahead.
"The land drops away yonder, M'sieu, 'twixt the point and the mainshore!" he growled, with conspicuous anxiety in his voice. He was notrembler; but it fretted him to be taking what he deemed the weakercourse. "Nothing," he added, "but a bit of bare beach that the wavesgo over at spring tides when the wind's down the Basin!"
I paused in some dismay. But my mind was made up.
"We must go on," said I. "But we will stoop low, and lose no time inthe passage. They'll scarce be landed yet."
And now, as I came to see how low indeed that strip of perilous beachwas, I somewhat misdoubted of success in getting by unseen. But wewent a little deeper in the tide, and bowed our bodies with greathumbleness, and so passed over with painful effort but not a littlespeed. Being come again under shelter, we straightened ourselves, wellpleased, fetched a deep breath or two, and ran on with fresh celerity.
"But if a redskin should think to step over the beach, there'd be ourgoose cooked!" muttered Tamin.
"Well said!" I answered. "Therefore let us strike inland at once!"And I led the way again into the darkness of the forest.
Dark as it was, there was yet light enough from the moon to enable meto direct my course as I wished. I struck well west of the coursewhich would have taken us most speedily to Shulie, being determined toavoid the valley of the stream which I considered our pursuers weremost likely to ascend. To satisfy Tamin's doubts I explained mypurpose, which was to aim straight for Shulie as soon as we were overthe water-shed. And I must do him the justice to say he was content,beginning now to come more graciously to my view. We went but slowly,climbing, ever climbing. At times we would be groping through a greatblackness of hemlocks. Again the forest would be more open, a minglingof fir trees, and birches, and maples. Coming at last to more levelground, we were still much hindered by innumerable rocks, amid whichthe underbrush and wild vines prepared pitfalls for our weary feet.But I was not yet willing to call a halt for breath. On, on westumbled, the wet branches buffeting our faces, but a cool and pleasantsavour of the wild herbs which we trod upon ever exhaling upwards torefresh our senses. As we crossed a little grassy glade, I observedthat Marc had come to Tamin's help, and was carrying the sack of bread.I observed, also, that Tamin's face was drawn with fatigue, and that hewent with a kind of dogged heaviness. I took pity upon him. We hadput, I guessed, good miles between ourselves and our pursuers, and Ifelt that we were, in all reason, safe for the time. At the furtherlimit of the glade there chattered a shallow brook, whose sweet noisereminded me that I was parched with thirst. The pallor of first dawnwas now coming into the sky, and the tree tops began to lift and floatin an aerial grayness. I glanced at Marc, and his eyes met mine with akeen brightness that told me he was yet unwearied. Nevertheless Icried:--
"Halt, and fall out for breakfast." And with the words I flung myselfdown by the brook, thrust my burning face into the babbling chill ofit, and drank luxuriously. Tamin was beside me in an instant; but Marcslaked his thirst at more leisure, when he had well enjoyed watchingour satisfaction.
We lay for a little, till the sky was touched here and there withsaffron and flying wisps of pink, and we began to see the colour ofgrass and leaves. Then we made our meal,--a morsel each of the salthake which I had clung to through our flight, and some bits of Tamin'sblack bread. This bread was wholesome, as I well knew, and to ourhunger it was not unsavoury; but it was of a hardness which thesea-water had scarce availed to mitigate.
As we ground hastily upon the meagre fare, I felt, rather than heard, apresence come behind me. I turned my head with a start, and at thesame instant heard a high, plangent voice, close beside us, cryingslowly:--
"Woe, woe to Acadie the Fair, for the day of her desolation cometh."
It was an astonishing figure upon which my eyes fell,--a figure whichmight have been grotesque, but was not. Instead of laughing, my heartthrilled with a kind of awe. The man was not old,--his frame was erectand strong with manhood; but the long hair hanging about his neck waswhite, the long beard streaming upon his half-naked breast was white.He wore leathern breeches, and the upper portion of his body wascovered only by a cloak of coarse woollen stuff, woven in a staringpattern of black and yellow. On his head was a rimless cap of plaitedstraw, with a high, pointed crown; and this was stuck full of gaudyflowers and feathers. From the point of the crown rose the stump ofwhat had been, belike, a spray of goldenrod, broken by a hastyjourneying through the obstructions of the forest. The man's eyes, ofa wild and flaming blue, fixed themselves on mine. In one hand hecarried a white stick, with a grotesque carven head, dyed scarlet,which he pointed straight at me.
"Do you lie down, like cows that chew the cud, when the wolves are onthe trail?" demanded that plangent voice.
"It's Grul!" cried Tamin, springing to his feet and thrusting a pieceof black bread into the stranger's hand.
But the offering was thrust aside, while those wide eyes flamed yetmore wildly upon me.
"They are on the trail, I tell you!" he repeated. "I hear their feeteven now! Go! Run! Fly!" and he stooped, with an ear toward theground.
"But which way should we fly?" I asked, half in doubt whether hiswarning should be heeded or derided. I could see that neither Marc norTamin had any such doubts. They were on the strain to be off, and onlyawaited my word.
"Go up the brook," said he, in a lower voice. "The first small streamon your left hand, turn up that a little way, and so--for the wolvesshall this time be balked. But the black wolf's teeth bite deep. Theyshall bite upon the throats of the people!" he continued, his voicerising keenly, his white staff, with its grinning scarlet head, wavingin strange, intricate curves. We were already off, making at almostfull speed up the brook. Glancing back, I saw the fantastic formrunning to and fro over the ground where we had lain; and when thetrees hid him we heard those ominous words wailed slowly over and overwith the reiterance of a tolling bell:--
"Woe, woe for Acadie the Fair, for the day of her desolation cometh!"
"He'll throw them off the trail!" said Tamin, confidently.
"But how did they ever get on it?" queried Marc.
"'Tis plain that they have seen or heard us as we passed the strip ofbeach!" said I, in deep vexation, for I hated to be overreached by anyone in woodcraft. "If we outwit them now, it's no thanks to mytactics, but only to that generous and astonishing madman. You bothseemed to know him. Who, in the name of all the saints, might he be?What was it you called him, Tamin?"
"Grul!" replied Tamin; and said no more, discreetly husbanding hiswind. But Marc spoke for him.
"I have heard him called no other name but Grul! Madman he is, attimes, I think. But sane for the most part, and with some touches of awisdom beyond the wisdom of men. The guise of madness he wears always;and the Indians, as well as our own people, reverence him mightily. Itis nigh upon three years since he first appeared in Acadie. He hatesthe Black Abbe,--who, they say, once did him some great mischief insome other land than this,--and his strange ravings, his prodigiousprophesyings, do something here and there to weaken the Abbe'sinfluence with our people."
"Then how does he evade the good father's wrath?" I questioned, inwonder.
"Oh," said Marc, "the good father hates him cordially enough.
But theIndians could not be persuaded, or bullied, or bribed, to lift a handagainst him. They say a Manitou dwells in him."
"Maybe they're not far wrong!" grunted Tamin.
And now I, like Tamin, found it prudent to spare my wind. But Marc,whose lungs seemed untiring, spoke from time to time as he went, andtold me certain incidents, now of Grul's acuteness, now of his gift ofprophecy, now of his fantastic madness. We came at length, afterpassing two small rivulets on the right, to the stream on the leftwhich Grul had indicated. It had a firm bed, wherein our footstepsleft no trace, and we ascended it for perhaps a mile, by many windings.Then, with crafty care, we crept up from the stream, in such a fashionas to leave no mark of our divergence if, as I thought not likely, ourpursuers should come that way. After that we fetched a great circuit,crossed the parent brook, and shortly before noon judged that we mightaccount ourselves secure. Where a tiny spring bubbled beneath agranite boulder and trickled away north toward the Fundy shore, westopped to munch black bread and the remnant of the fish. We restedfor an hour,--Tamin and I sleeping, while Marc, who protested that hefelt no motion toward slumber, kept watch. When he roused us, we setoff pleasantly refreshed, our faces toward Shulie.
Till late that night we journeyed, having a clear moon to guide us.Coming at length to the edge of a small lake set with islands, "Here,"said I, "is the place where we may sleep secure!"
We stripped, took our bundles on our heads, and swam out into theshining stillness. We swam past two islets, and landed upon one whichcaught my fancy. There we lay down in a bed of sweet-smelling fern,and were well content. As we supped on Tamin's good black bread, twoloons laughed to each other out on the silver surface. We saw theirblack, watchful heads, moving slowly. Then we slept. It was high daywhen we awoke. The bread was now scarce, so we husbanded it, and madesuch good speed all day that while it wanted yet some hours of sunsetwe came out upon a bluff's edge and saw below us the wash and roll ofFundy. We were some way west of Shulie, but not far, Tamin said, fromthe house of his good friend with the good boat.
To this house we came within the hour. It was a small, home-likecabin, among apple trees, in a slant clearing that overhung a narrowcreek. There, by a little jetty, I rejoiced to see the boat. The manof the house, one Beaudry, was in the woods looking for his cow, butthe goodwife made us welcome. When Beaudry came in he and Tamin fellon each other's necks. And I found, too, that the name of Jean deBriart, with something of his poor exploits, was not all unknown in thecabin.
How well we supped that night, on fresh shad well broiled, and freshsweet barley bread, and thin brown buckwheat cakes! It was settled atonce that Beaudry should put us over to de Ramezay's camp with thefirst of the morrow's tide. Then, over our pipes, sitting under theapple tree by the porch, we told our late adventures. I say we, butTamin told them, and gave them a droll colouring which delighted me.It must have tickled Marc's fancy, too, for I took note that he let hispipe out many times during the story. Beaudry kept crying "Hein!" and"Bien!" and "Tiens!" in an ecstasy of admiration. The goodwife,however, was seemingly most touched by the loss of Tamin's knitted cap.With a face of great concern, as who should say "Poor soul!" she jumpedup, ran into the house, was gone a few moments, and returned beamingbenevolence.
"V'la!" she cried; and stuck upon Tamin's wiry black head a bran-newcap of red wool.