Chapter V
Jules Lapon is Disappointed
Steve Mainwaring had suddenly leaped higher in the estimation of hiscomrades, and even Tom Mainwaring, who was apt to look upon his sonwith the proud eye of an indulgent father, now regarded him with eyeswhich shone with strange enthusiasm. For Steve had done well. Evenwhen he was only a little mite he had shown courage, and as he grewbigger and stronger, and mastered the ways of the backwoodsmen andthe habits of the Indians, amongst some of whom he was often thrown,his elders had seen that he was a promising pupil, while the redskinsthemselves had christened him the Hawk, no small compliment from sucha race. Then Steve had a great advantage. While learning the ways ofthe backwoods, he had had an excellent education from his father,which added something to his astuteness. And now, little by little,these grizzled veterans of the forest were beginning to discover hisworth. They had already found in him a lad who could barter theirpelts far better than they could. Hitherto they had been always ableto rely upon his sagacity, his courage, and his shooting, and now----
"Cap'n," repeated Jim again, pushing his coon-skin cap back fromhis bald head and gripping Steve's hand. "That 'ere plan air 'cute.Thunder! One of these here redskin skunks wouldn't ha' thought of it,and when they see us come out from the bank, why----"
The thought was too much for the old hunter. He stood staring intoSteve's face, taking closer stock of the lad perhaps than he hadever done before, for familiarity with a person often makes us slowto discover virtues, which, after all, are only buried beneath thesurface. Good points, which are hardly skin deep, and which haveescaped our notice hitherto, only become apparent when some unusualincident brings them prominently before our eyes.
"That air a lad to be proud of, Judge," he said, wiping theperspiration from his forehead. "Reckon he's lain quiet up to this,or else we should ha' found him out. He's got a bit of your way ofstayin' quiet, and openin' his mouth only when he's axed a question orwhen there's need for a lawyer or a cap'n. It's sartin he's got thehang of this matter, and I votes that he leads till we're home agin.'Twon't do no harm to us. What do yer say, red head?"
Mac doubled an enormous fist, shook it in Jim's face and grinned, agrin which set his lips back from his teeth, and exposed a cavityreaching almost from ear to ear. It was the grin of a man who hassuddenly heard good news, and who has had a load taken from his mind.
"Red head! Bedad, 'tis mesilf as will choke the loife out of ye,Huntin' Jim. 'Twould be aisier for ye to stand out there and ax someof thim varmint to put a bullet into ye, so it would. Red head!"
The knuckles of his tanned and brawny fist rested against Jim's nose,but provoked not a movement.
"Waal, what do yer say?" Jim growled, his eyes flashing.
"Say? Sure that Oi'll be onaisy if Steve don't take over the place.Faith, 'tis his idea, and a man should have the chanst of carryin' itout."
"It is an honour, and one which the boy will appreciate," said Tom,solemnly. "Steve, we appoint you the captain. Give your orders."
"Yes, give the orders, lad," cried Jim, his kindly features lightingup with real pleasure, while he continued to stare at this tall younghunter, noticing his good looks, his fearless and alert appearance,and the good temper which lurked in every line of his sun-tanned face."You've settled about them canoes. Git along with the job."
Steve was somewhat overcome at the turn events had taken, but a glanceat his father and at his old companions soon assured him that theywere in earnest, and would support him.
"I feel too young for the task," he said, "but I grant the experiencewill be a fine one, and may some day be of the utmost use to me. Thenwe'll set to work. Take your hunting knives and slit two of the canoesdown through the centre of the bow and stern. Mac, get along andcut a few vine tendrils, and keep that red head down. The redskinscouldn't miss you."
There was a roar at that, a hearty laugh which showed that Steve'splan had encouraged the whole party, and had shown them a method bywhich they might extricate themselves from a very awkward and seriouspredicament. And to hear this young fellow commence his command by alittle good-humoured banter delighted them.
"Arrah, now, Masther Steve. Is that the way ye'd reward me?" cried thejovial Mac, as he powdered the pan of his heavy musket. "Have a care,me bhoy. 'Tis yerself as will be howlin' for mercy if Mac gets a holtof ye."
Steve waved him away, and while the Irishman went to get the tendrils,he and the others splashed through the oozy bed of the river, pushingtheir way through the reeds till they came to the canoes hidden thereby their pursuers. Every now and again a report rang out on the farside of the river, and a bullet whistled through the reeds, butfortunately without hitting any of them, though some came very near.Indeed, on one occasion they were in the greatest danger, for one ofthe enemy, suspecting that they were amidst the reeds, crept higherup the far bank, till he could get a full view of the nose of thecanoe which had first caught Steve's eye. He reckoned that if the palefaces were there they would be in amongst the craft, and levelling hisbarrel to what he thought must be the correct position, he fired.
"Thunder!" exclaimed Jim, as Tom's skin cap leaped into the air, spunround, and flew in amongst the reeds. "Them 'ere varmint kin shoot.Jest a moment while I talk to that critter. Get out of these reeds."
They crept to the bank and lay down under the bushes, while the activetrapper clambered into a tree and stared across the river. Presentlythey saw his barrel come to the horizontal position, where he held ittill something caught his eye. Then the stock went to his shoulder,his brown cheek fell closer to it, and his eye squinted along thesights. There was a sharp crack on the far side, a spurt of flameand smoke issued from the bushes, while a bullet ploughed into thereeds, and thudded heavily against the bank. At the same instantJim's piece spoke, and as his comrades looked they saw the barrel ofa gun suddenly emerge from the cover opposite. It seemed to leap intothe air, and after it came the painted face and then the body of anIndian. He stood stock still for an instant, staring at the reeds, andthen with a hideous yell fell face foremost into the river, his deathbringing loud whoops from his friends.
"Reckon that'll make 'em a bit careful," said Jim, clambering downand reloading. "Them skunks had got to think that we couldn't shoot.They'll see now that some of us know the business-end of a musket.Them orders, Steve?"
"Let us tackle the canoes and make ready."
Once more they crept into the reeds, their hunting knives in theirhands. A few slashes cut through the strong sinews with which the endsof the craft were sewn, while Steve divided the huge strip of birchback along the centre. Another canoe was served in the same manner,when they found themselves in possession of four pieces as long astheir own canoe, or almost so. And now they threw themselves on athird canoe, erecting their strips along the side, and pegging themin position with pieces cut from a tree, while Mac made all secure bypiercing the strips and lashing them firmly with vine tendrils. Thework came happily to their hands, for backwoodsmen were skilled in themanufacture of canoes.
"That 'ere ship air ready," said Jim at length. "We can fill her tillthe water comes above the gunwale of the canoe, and she won't sink."
"And if we care to carry out the same work with these other two, wecan have two ships floating side by side, and they at least shouldkeep out the bullets," said Steve. "What do you think?"
"Think! Ain't you the cap'n?"
"Then we'll do it. Let's get along with the job."
While Steve and Jim began to construct a second craft which would holda pile of reeds, Mac and Tom crept through the osiers, cutting bundlesaway with their hunting knives. They kept steadily at the work tillthey had cut down the greater part of the bed, leaving a thick outerfringe to hide them from the enemy. The leaves were then lopped off,and the stems piled into the first of the special craft constructed,till they reached to a point above the high sides provided.
"Float her now and see whether she is top heavy," said Steve. "Thatwas a good idea of Mac's to put a few rocks at the
bottom."
Very carefully they pushed the strange craft into the water till shefloated close beside their own canoe. Then they tested her stabilityby pressing the load over to either side.
"As steady as you could wish," said Steve. "Her gunwale is a coupleof inches above the water, so she will ship very little. Now for thesecond."
Within an hour they were ready, the two craft laden with reeds beinglashed firmly together and floated to the far side of their own canoe.There was still a little to do. At Tom's suggestion Mac cut a coupleof stout boughs, and these were attached to the stem and stern of thenearest craft, and the other ends to the stem and stern of the canoein which they would take their places.
"If a bullet does happen to come through, it will drop in the water,"he said. "Again, we might find it convenient to set fire to the reedsin the outer one, and make use of the smoke as a covering. The windis blowing right across to the far side of the river, and the reedshappen to be well soaked after last night's rain. There would belittle danger of the covering being burned too soon."
"A grand idea," cried Steve. "What do you say, Jim?"
"That Tom and Steve air mighty 'cute, and don't want no teachin'.Judge, I guessed as yer had somethin' in that big head of yours. That'ere idea air almost better'n Steve's. Set fire to the reeds we will,and a fine smoke them Injuns'll see. Reckon they'll be choked."
He went off chuckling to bring in Silver Fox, the latter havingmeanwhile kept an eagle eye on the far bank.
"They have moved a little," he said slowly. "The enemy have spread upand down the bank, and watch us like hawks. Do my brothers think topaddle away? Surely there will be few of us to whom a bullet will notcome."
"And supposing we wait till it is dark?" asked Steve.
"Then our scalps will hang at their belts. A little sooner will makeno difference. Silver Fox is ready."
"And supposing again that we move off now and have some cover, forinstance, this, and set fire to the reeds in the outer canoe?"
Steve pointed to the strange craft which they had prepared, and waitedeagerly for the answer, for Silver Fox was a cunning Mohawk, and if athing could pass his eyes and meet with approval, then it was good. Hestrode towards the growing reeds, tore one up by the roots and bit it,just as Jim had done. Then he turned gravely to the party.
"The pale faces are great and brave foes," he said. "They press on andon into the forests, which were the hunting grounds of the Indian, andthey forget the defeat they have suffered, the dead they have left.Nothing can or will stop them. They die like buffalo, fighting fortheir lives. Their cunning is at first as nothing to the cunning ofthe Shawnees and other foes, and so their scalps hang in many and manya wigwam. But death and loss have taught them. They have become men ofthe river and forests themselves, and their cunning is great. Surelythe Great Father must have aided them, for how else could they havethought of such a device. Silver Fox has spoken and is ready."
He walked to the tree at the foot of which Steve and Tom hadreverently laid the body of poor Talking Bear, and looked closely intohis face. Then he stooped, took the belt, the tomahawk, and the bulletpouch of the fallen redskin, and strode down the bank.
"Farewell, my brother," he said. "You have been a faithful friend,a kind companion, and a mighty fighter. The wigwam will know you nomore, and the men of the war parties will miss your strong arm. TheseI take so that all may keep your memory."
It was a very simple little ceremony, but affecting for all that, andcaused Steve to gulp down something which seemed to fill his throat.For the lad, though a skilful hunter, was not hardened to the waysof the Indians and the pioneers of the forest. A life was a life, afriend a friend to be mourned after his death and thought of often.
And so they turned away from the silent figure, leaving the stillform of the painted warrior lying there in his blanket, shaded bythe foliage of a mighty tree, which has long since been felled tomake way for the iron road which now bears the rapid conveyance ofthis bustling century. Who of those thousands who pass along the lineand look out of the windows at the fascinating scenery of the Mohawkthink of the days of which we write, or ever paint in their own mindsthe birch canoes which then were paddled over the silent waters, andthe painted faces which stole through the forests, hunting the palefaces, the sturdy fathers of a sturdy race which now fills the land ofpromise?
"Ready?" asked Steve, taking the lead. "Then, father, show us the way,please, and take the paddle right astern. I will take that in thebows, while Mac can use the one in the centre. Jim, we'll pile themuskets just in front of father, and you will get in a shot if thereis an opportunity. One moment. Break up those spare paddles, Mac."
All stepped quietly into their places, while Steve waded into thewater and steadied the canoe, pushing the one which held their storeswell behind him. When all was in readiness, he waded still farther inand sprinkled a little powder on the reeds which filled the strangecraft farthest away. A few strokes of his steel against the flint setthe powder fizzling, and in a minute one of the reeds, which happenedto be drier than the others, was well alight. Using this as a match,he went all along the load, firing it at close intervals. Then hecame back to the stern and made ready to push the canoes out. Andmeanwhile the flames had done their work. Licking round the portionsof the outside layer of reeds, which happened to be dry, they soon setthem ablaze, and then began to ignite the damper portions. A cloud ofdense black smoke rose above the reeds, and, caught by the wind, wentbillowing out across the river. Almost at once fierce whoops came fromthe far shore, and there was a commotion amidst the forest cover.
"Shout and dance, me beauties," laughed Jim grimly. "Set to at one ofyer war dances, if that'll do yer good. Reckon them 'ere varmint has anotion we're burnin' their canoes. That's what all the rustle's about."
"They will slay us with the torture should it chance that we fall intotheir hands," said Silver Fox gravely. "This is a sore blow to ourenemies."
"Then they have worse to follow," chimed in Steve. "I fancy that whenthey see us floating away up the river they'll be more than a trifleangry. Paddles out. Ready? Then, here we go."
He pushed slowly till there was way on the canoes, and then with onevigorous push sent the whole lot surging against the barrier of reedswhich hid the party from the enemy. And as he pushed for the lasttime, he leaned his full weight on the sides of the canoe, and with adexterous movement clambered aboard.
"Get hold of the paddle and make ready to swing round," sang out Tom.
"We come out bows on, remember that, and shall have to face theirfire. There goes the first musket."
They were out. The canoes had burst through the reeds into the openriver, and for a minute perhaps Steve looked at the opposite bank. Hesaw a figure suddenly stand erect and emerge from behind a tree, andwatched as the barrel of a musket was levelled at him. There was aloud report, a bullet whisked over his head, and smoke gushed from theforest. Then there was a deafening explosion just behind him, and fora few seconds he experienced the deafness and pain which are felt whena weapon is discharged close to one's ear. But his eyes held to thefar bank, and once more he had need to praise Jim's shooting.
"That 'ere redskin ain't too careful," growled the trapper. "Ef he'dput his iron jest a bit lower, he'd have plugged Huntin' Jim as sureas I'm standin'. Reckon he ain't fit to try again."
It was true. The unerring eye of the trapper had fastened upon theIndian as he levelled his musket, and Jim seldom made a mistake. Hewas one of the hardy pioneers versed in Indian warfare who had learnedthat it is better to hold one's fire and keep one's finger from thetrigger rather than send a bullet wide of the mark.
"Yer can't afford to miss, Steve," he had often remarked, when theyoung trapper was out on some excursion with him. "Some of these daysyer may run into a crowd of them redskins, and then you'll know thatthe man as can shoot has a chance of keepin' his scalp. Reckon thechap as don't know how ain't fit to wear haar."
"Round with her. Paddle!" shouted Steve. "That's better.
Now they canfire till they are tired of the game. Whew! Doesn't it sound queer tohear the bullets striking."
Indeed it did. As the paddlers forced the strange craft up the river,their course was followed by frantic whoops and by a perfect hail ofbullets. As fast as twenty men could fire and load again the musketssent their contents at the floating target, and time and again theleaden messengers crashed into the reeds, many passing through theouter pile and lodging in the centre of the second one, proving thatSteve's suggestion was a good one. Occasionally a bullet would hit themark somewhere near the top, and a shower of shredded reed would bescattered over the party. Then, too, numbers of missiles flew asternand ahead, for the smoke upset the aim of the enemy.
And so for an hour Steve and his friends paddled up the river,confident now of their security from bullets. As they progressed thehowling band ran abreast of them on the bank, and one or two of theredskins actually entered the water in their frantic eagerness to comeup with the pale faces. But Jim put a stop to that. The smoke hidhim entirely from the sight of the enemy, while he himself had a goodview of the bank, and was well protected by the reeds. He stood in thecanoe, a pile of muskets at his feet, and just the top of his headshowing above the barrier. Then, every now and again, he straightenedhimself a little more, his weapon went to his shoulder, and a shriektold that the eye of the trapper had not erred. Indeed his goodshooting, the pace at which they paddled, and perhaps a failure inammunition soon resulted in a lull in the contest. Only an occasionalbullet now plunged into the reeds.
"We can say good-bye to them very soon," said Steve suddenly, craninghis head round the barrier. "A couple of miles up, Swan creek runsinto the stream, and that should stop them. They will have to swim orclimb, and in either case we can draw away from them. When I give theword, cut away the canoes and upset them. A few blows with a tomahawkwill make them useless, and send them to the bottom. Is that right,father?"
He appealed to Tom, for as yet this position of leader was strange tohim, and he felt somewhat abashed and modest, considering the age andexperience of his comrades. However, he had nothing to fear, for Tomnodded energetically, while the garrulous Jim burst forth with a reply.
"Jest you recollect as you're the cap'n," he laughed. "When yer givean order, why, let it be an order. No hankey pankey, lad. If Macdon't set to and follow your words, why, pass him along to me. I'llmake short work of the feller."
"Bedad!" growled the Irishman. "Huntin' Jim, there'll be trouble forye sooner than ye expect. Will ye be quiet and listen to what thecap'n's sayin'?"
They were a merry party now. Merry and light-hearted, as in truth theyhad a right to be, for every minute lightened their danger. Indeed,hardly an hour had passed when they came abreast of the creek ofwhich Steve had spoken. It was wide and shallow, and cut into a big,sweeping hollow formed in the side of a long rocky ridge.
"There ain't a redskin as would attempt to swim it," said Jim withdecision, "and ef they make round behind the cliff, why, Steve, youand me and Tom and Mac'll be at home long before they come out on thefar side. Reckon they'll give it up and get back to their huntin'grounds. Boys, when we're back at the settlement we'll send the newsround, and there won't be another party making this side of the fallfor Albany. Murderin' cut-throats like them ought to be hounded down,and ef they was our way----"
"We should root them out," said Tom, quietly, "No body ofself-respecting settlers would put up with such a state of things.Against such a band we of the settlement are secure. But it will notbe always so."
He shook his head dubiously, while Jim and Mac nodded in agreement.
"Reckon the thirteen States has got to put aside their baby squabblesand put their backs to this work ef we air to stay at the settlement,"exclaimed Jim. "Trappers ain't powerful enough to stop the journeys ofthe French and Injuns."
How true his words were likely to prove the reader will be ableto learn. For the time had come long since for concerted action.France had set a covetous eye on the valley of the Ohio, on thesmiling forest country lying to the west of the Alleghany Mountains,and resistlessly, unchecked as yet, she had poured into the land.There had been no concerted movement to check her. The thirteenStates which then constituted our American colonies made no combinedmovement against the enemy. For the most part they were absolutelyapathetic. And while they sat at their ease, surrounded by comfort andsecurity, hundreds and hundreds of the log huts and settlements oftheir brothers were being ravaged by the French and their relentlessIndians. The guns and the courage of thousands of trappers and hardybackwoodsmen were insufficient now to stem the torrent.
"The times are bad. There is trouble ahead," said Tom, thoughtfully."Let us hope it will pass by and leave our settlement undisturbed. ButI fear that that is too much to hope for. There is Jules Lapon."
Yes. There was Jules Lapon, leader of the most reckless and cruelbands of Indians, and a near neighbour now of Tom and his friends.
"Well, we won't think of him and the troubles now," sang out Stevecheerily. "We're well out of shot, and can cut the canoes adrift. Letus get free of them and push on towards home."
They hacked through the creepers which bound the ends of the boughs totheir own canoe, and then cut holes in the two craft which they hadso deftly prepared, ripping the sides and throwing the reeds out intothe river. A few minutes later the canoes which had proved so usefulwere sweeping along, hopelessly injured, and long before Steve and hisfriends had turned round the bend of the cliff they had disappearedunder the water.
They dug their paddles into the stream now with a vengeance, andsent their craft surging up the Mohawk, the echo of discordant yellsand whoops still coming to their ears. But they were secure frompursuit, and never even troubled to look behind them. Turn and turnabout they struggled at the paddles, and in the course of seven daysfound themselves at the end of their river journey. They had reachedthe lake which emptied into the river, and their coming was greetedby a tribe of Mohawk Indians. Then for two days they trudged throughthe forest, the Mohawks helping to carry their stores. Above theirheads the branches grew in one long, continuous arch, hiding thesun. Steve led the way, his record with this tribe of hardy warriorsnow vastly increased after his recent exploits. His eye followed thenumerous blazes on the trees, slashes cut with Jim's tomahawk, and thetrappers' sure method of marking a path.
"The last stage, I think," said Tom, on the evening of the second day,when they came in sight of water.
That evening there was a serious palaver round the camp fire, andSilver Fox and his friends were rewarded with a portion of the stores.On the following day when Steve and his friends stepped into a canoewhich had been hidden in the forest and pushed out on to this newstrip of water, the Mohawks waved a farewell to them from the bank.
"Health and strength go with you, our brothers," cried Silver Fox,his features wearing their usual impassiveness. "Call should there bedanger, and Silver Fox and his friends will surely come."
Steve watched them as they dived into the forest, and then stareddown the river. They were on the Alleghany now, and a strong streamwas bearing them down to their own beloved settlement. Indeed, thefollowing day was hardly three hours old when all gave a shout ofrecognition.
"Thar's the place. And thar's Jimmy!"
It was Jim who waved his cap and shouted, while a faint huzza cameback from the shore. They put the nose of the canoe towards a break inthe forest, and very soon Jim and Mac were greeting their wives, whileTom and Steve looked on in silence. They unpacked the canoes, pulledthem up, and separated, Steve and his father making for their ownhumble but comfortable log cabin.