CHAPTER XI
A NIGHT IN THE BOAT
This was one of many nights we passed in the narrow confines of theboat during our flight northward. Yet its incidents remain in memorywith peculiar distinctness of detail. I do not recall exactly how itoccurred, but my duty during that first night chanced to place me atthe after oar. In consequence I sat directly facing Madame de Noyan,operating the rudder bar. It was so warm, merely a delicate, fragrantbreeze blowing from the south, she had felt no necessity for drawing upher hood, and the soft light of distant stars, glimmering along thebosom of the river, reflected back into her face, illumining it until Icould almost note the changing expression within her dark eyes.
It was a sadder, graver face than the one I associated with hergirlhood. Yet I could scarce forbear an impression that it was now asweeter one, more womanly, faint lines beginning to mark its satinsmoothness with impress of sorrow. To my thought a new, higherwomanhood had found birth within, during weary days and nights ofsuspense and suffering. It was yet torture to me constantly beholdingthese two together, but, as I observed her then, I thanked the good Godwho had permitted me to be near her in time of trial. In patience Iwould serve, even though I must suffer. Tears were clinging to herlong lashes, and occasionally one would glitter an instant upon herwhite cheek, as she leaned her face upon one hand, from which the loosesleeve fell away, revealing an arm like chiselled marble. She made noeffort at concealing these evidences of emotion, doubtless believingthem sufficiently hidden by the gloomy shadows. Nor did she appear toglance at me, keeping her own gaze directly ahead, where the dark,swirling waters merged into the mystery of the North.
We were none of us in talkative mood--although I heard De Noyan, behindme, humming a light French air, as though perfectly free fromtrouble--and I have no recollection of exchanging a word for more thanan hour. We merely continued to pull sturdily against the downwardrush of the stream, the deep silence of the night broken only by thedripping of uplifted blades, or the occasional far-off hooting of anowl upon the bank to our left. The pressure of the river's current wasscarcely perceptible close against the shore, so we made fair progress.Yet it was hard work, neither of us being accustomed to such exercise,the heavy oars feeling awkward to the hand. The grim uncertainty ofthe future, coupled with our solitary surroundings, exercised adepressing influence upon the spirits of each, although differingwidely in degree, according to our several natures. Undoubtedly thissame sense of dreariness led De Noyan to sing, caused me such painfulrestlessness under that same singing, and left Eloise saddened in herlonely thoughts.
Every occurrence impressed me that night as unusual. Perchance thiswas because both heart and head were sadly out of tune. Yet, at best,it was a lonesome journey, and remains a grewsome memory, haunting withmany a spectre, as weird as the shadows of delirium. The few stars,peeping shyly forth between scurrying black cloud masses, were so faraway they merely silvered the cloud edges, leaving them as thoughcarven from granite. The low shore, often within reach of our oarblades, appeared gloomy and inhospitable, the spectral rushes creepingfar out upon the water like living things, seeming to grasp after us asthe wind swept them, and we glided past in phantom silence. Beyond,like a great black wall, arose higher ground, occasionally jutting intobare bluffs outlined against the lighter sky; again diversified bygaunt dead trees, their fleshless limbs extended upward toward ghostlypillars of vapor ever floating from off the river's surface.Occasionally, jaggedly uneven, close-set trunks of forest growth wouldappear, spectral in solemn ugliness, a veritable hedge, impenetrableand grim.
If, with a shudder of disgust, I turned away from that lorn, dead lineof shore, my eyes swept a waste of waters slipping solemnly past, whilefarther out, where sky and stream met and mingled in wild riot, thesurging river swirled and leaped, its white-capped waves evidencingresistless volume. It was a sight to awe one, that immense masspouring forth from the upper darkness, flashing an instant beneath thestar-gleam, only to disappear, a restless, relentless flood, black,unpitying, impenetrable, mysterious, a savage monster, beyond whoseoutstretched claws we crept, yet who at any moment might clutch ushelpless in a horrible embrace. It was a sight to stun, that brutalflood, gliding ever downward, while, far as eye could see, stretchedthe same drear expanse of cruel waters.
From out that mystery would suddenly emerge, rolling toward us, as ifborn of the shadows, some grim apparition, a wildly tossing figure,with gaunt, uplifted arms beating the air, to startle for an instant,then fade from our ken into the dimness below. Well I knew it was onlydriftwood, the gnarled trunk of uprooted tree made sport with by madwaves, yet more than once I shrank backward, my unstrung nervestingling, as such shapeless, uncanny thing was hurled past like anarrow. Nor were the noises that broke the silence less fearsome. Bredto the wilderness, I little minded loneliness when in the depths of thebackwoods, but this was different. I cared nothing for the honk ofwild fowl overhead, nor those sounds of varied animal life borne to usfrom off the black land; but that strange, dull roar, caused by greatlogs grinding together in the swirl of the current, and the groaning ofbits of undermined shore as they gave way and dropped heavily into thewater, racked my nerves.
The peace I found lay in that sweet face, turned partially away, yetappearing fairer than ever beneath the protecting hood, drawn up as thenight air grew chill. Whether similar sense of strangeness andtimidity rested upon her, I could not determine, yet I believed herthoughts so far away that our present surroundings were no more to herthan the vaguest dream. She scarcely stirred during all the hours Iwatched her; only once did she glance up, to smile as she met my eyesbefore I could withdraw them from her face. Had she read aright theirmessage, perchance this story might never have been written; yet purer,truer love no man ever gave to woman. We must have continued thus,pulling silently, for hours before De Noyan broke the oppressivesilence with impatient speech. Indeed, not the least impressivefeature of the grewsome night was his continued stillness.
"_Le Diable_!" he exclaimed uneasily, shifting in his seat. "If theStyx be more gloomy than this accursed stream, then Jesu pity itsvoyagers. Never have I put in so miserable a night, to say nothing ofa strained back, and a pair of sore hands. What are those black,crawling things yonder? _Mon Dieu_! I have seen a thousand hideousdemons since we left the cane."
I glanced across my shoulder in the direction he pointed, glad enoughto hear once again the sound of a voice.
"Only the fire-seared branch of a tree tossed on the current--the nightrests heavily upon your nerves."
"Heavily? _Parbleu_! it has unmanned me with hideous silence, withcreeping, ghostly mystery, until I am half mad, scarcely daring towhisper, in fear of my own voice. Eloise, are you there? or have thespectres of this haunted journey flown away with you?"
"Angels or demons, they would have naught of me," she replied inseeming unconsciousness of his mood. "My thoughts, I fear, have beensufficiently sad to accord well with the gloom, only my shadows arewithin, not without."
"_Sacre_! mine are all yonder," he exclaimed, indicating with a gesturethe vast extent of angry water. "Why should I bear heavy heart, exceptfor brooding phantoms of the night? Life is still mine in all itssweetness. Not that I greatly valued it, to be sure, yet 'tis somewhatbetter than I once thought, and there is always pleasure left in theworld for the young. From whence springs your mood of sadness, Eloise?"
"My thought was with my father."
"'Tis not strange it should be. Yet, it might be better if you dweltupon the brighter view of our own future. He is at rest; no tears canbe of aid. But we can look forward to dreams of happiness. 'Tis myplan to cross the great ocean, seeking better fortune on the Continent.France, they say, has ever a vacant place for a good sword, nor is theking likely to refuse service to a nephew of Bienville. You and I,Eloise, shall yet tread the Paris streets, nor shall we go as beggars."
I marked her quick smile, but thought it not wholly untouched bysadness, as she attempted a
nswer.
"We will hope for the best; yet, Monsieur, we are still deeply buriedin the wilderness. Ay! worse--in the country of our enemies. You maynot comprehend the full truth of this, but Spain lays claim now to allthis great river, with the country bordering it. O'Reilly has alreadydespatched soldiers as high as the mouth of the Ohio, to guard itspassage; so there is peril lurking before us, as well as behind."
"O'Reilly has sent soldiers northward? How know you this, Eloise?"
"It was common talk in the town. I saw with my own eyes the departureof one expedition. It was composed of a captain, with twelve soldiers,destined for the Ohio. I have heard that twice since others have beendespatched northward, although to what points was unknown."
"The saints defend us! 'tis indeed serious. I supposed the boat whichpassed contained all the Dons on the upper river, but if this be truewe may have to desert the stream, and take to the eastern trail onfoot. _Sacre_! I like it not! What say you, you sphinx of an Englishborderman? Knew you this all along?"
"It is news to me," I answered soberly. "But if three expeditions havealready been despatched north, there is little hope the land routeshave been forgotten. Beyond doubt every trail, white or Indian,leading toward French or English settlements, is by now patrolled bythe Dons. Nor can we hope to gain passage by surprise. Thatman-of-war boat will spread far the rumor of your escape, so everySpaniard between here and the Ohio will be on the lookout for ourcoming."
I imagine the same thought stole into the mind of both, how easily wetwo, travelling light, might press our way through that scattered lineof guard, and attain the upper Ohio; how easily, only for the dangerand distress to which so desperate an attempt would expose her. Shealone ventured to give the idea utterance.
"Messieurs," she said earnestly, her calm brown eyes uplifted to ourfaces, "I have been considering this for an hour past. I know youwould experience small trouble eluding the Spaniards, or even cuttingyour way through them, were I not with you. Yet this is not beyondremedy. I had sincerely hoped to prove of service when I usurped theslave's place in the boat; instead, I am an encumbrance, a weaklingwhom you must protect at the risk of your own lives. Fortunately it isnot yet too late to leave you free; it cannot be many miles back to NewOrleans, and the current would bear me swiftly downward. I have loyalfriends in the town to hide the daughter of Lafreniere, should theSpaniards wage war against a woman, and surely some means would openwhereby I might make the shores of France. Perhaps I should be therein advance of you. What say you, Messieurs, to such proposal? Wouldit not be best?"
The indignant feeling which swept me as I listened to this speechhardly needs dwelling upon. Yet I held my tongue. It was theprivilege of De Noyan to make answer.
"_Parbleu_!" he cried, seemingly forgetful of caution in instantenthusiasm. "You have as good a head as heart, Eloise. _Sacre_! neverbefore did I realize the treasure in my keeping. You gauge well thewishes of a soldier; 't is not pleasant to one of my blood and trainingto lurk thus in the shadows like a skulking spy. _Bish_! nor do I lovethis toll at the oars--'tis the work of slaves. I would prefertrusting all to the rapier, writing with its point a Frenchman'smessage of defiance. Holy saints! I am already half inclined to sayyes to your proposal; yet Benteen, what word have you to speakregarding this plan?"
"That if she goes back to New Orleans, I make the town in the sameboat," I answered shortly, angered by his flippant words and tone."'Tis a plan not to be seriously considered a moment, Chevalier. Ifcarried out it would merely place Madame de Noyan in the power of CruelO'Reilly. I doubt if the sacrifice would preserve our worthless lives.She can only return by means of the boat; with that gone, we should becompelled to plunge, unprovisioned, into a trackless wilderness,feeling our way blindly for hundreds of leagues through unknown, savagetribes. If we survived their cruelty we should be crazed with hungerand fatigue long before our eyes were gladdened at sight of the upperOhio. I do not say such a journey could not be made, but I retainvivid memory of one such trip, nor will I lightly seek another. Iimagine, Captain, you have small conception of the horrors of the blackforests, when you choose recklessly to plunge into their depths."
"I served against the Creeks," he announced somewhat sullenly.
"So I heard, yet that was mostly boys' play; armored men pitted againstnaked savages. You would discover different foemen among the mountaintribes to the north and east. Do not suppose I question your courage,but I realize the dangers, as you cannot from your town life, while asto Madame de Noyan, she will be safer here with us than with thoseblack brutes in New Orleans."
"You refuse to be comrade with me then?"
"Ay, if such comradeship involve the desertion of your wife."
"Desertion!" The term stung him. "_Sacre_! 'tis not a word to belightly flung in the face of a French cavalier. Did I not already oweyou the debt of life, Monsieur, I might endeavor to teach you a lessonin etiquette."
"I permit your overlooking all obligations, if you desire to indulge insuch an experiment," I retorted, no wise unwilling. "I am no brawlingroisterer, but have never been above giving and receiving blows."
I judged from the glint of his eyes, and the manner in which he juggledhis sword hilt, he had grave purpose of backing up his pretty words. Ishould rather have enjoyed giving the doughty gentleman a sudden bathalongside, had not Madame hastily calmed our hot blood with soberspeech other own.
"Hush, Messieurs," she commanded quietly, her eyes upon my face,instantly shaming me. "It is not meet you should quarrel. There arebetter ways in which to strike blows for me than that. As to my goingon with you, or returning alone, that may all be discussed when we makecamp again at daylight. Then we will settle the matter coolly, not inthe heat of anger. You are both my friends, nor would I awaken betweenyou any cause for controversy."
De Noyan laughed.
"_Sacre_! 'tis the accursed night got into our blood," he exclaimed."The very air seems poisoned with horror, while my back aches so withpulling this oar, I would esteem it relief to fight with my bestfriend. It was hard fortune that the boy Alphonse happened in track ofthat Spaniard's bullet. With three in the boat there would be somerest from the toll."
"I see solid ground yonder," I said, pointing as I spoke to the shadowybank ahead. "We might run the boat's nose in, and stretch our crampedlimbs on shore. There is little to be gained endeavoring to work withwearied muscles."
"_San Juan_!" he returned, brightening instantly to the suggestion."'Tis the first word of good sense reaching my ears this cursed nightof folly. Head her in under the shade of yonder bush, Eloise, until Isee if I can stand upright once more."