At War with Pontiac, Kirk Munroe [best smutty novels txt] 📗

her," said Donald. "Why, man, the spectacle must have been enough to make a graven image chuckle. Didn't Madam Rothsay laugh, too?"

"Certainly not. She only coughed and smiled and apologized in the sweetest manner for having accidentally been a witness to my arrival; hoped they would have the pleasure of seeing me later after I had recovered from the effects of my voyage, and all that sort of thing. Behaved in the most lady-like manner, by Jove."

"And the third lady? By the way, who was she?"

"Oh, she was only an Indian girl; but a stunner, for all that. She may have laughed, but I didn't notice; for she ran after Miss Edith. I found out about her afterwards. She is Pontiac's daughter, and her name is Ah-mo, which means the bee or the sweet one. She was educated in the convent at Montreal and went into society there. Refused a French count, I believe, and all that sort of thing. Don't you remember the fellows at Niagara were talking of her? As near as I could make out, she had been sent by her father to look after the ladies at the time of the attack on Cuyler's party, and was acting the part of hostess when I met them, or something of that kind."

"Ah-mo," repeated Donald, meditatively, and smiling as though the name recalled a pleasant vision. "Well, what became of you after that?"

"Oh! when they saw that I was a friend of the ladies, those Indian chaps behaved very decently; took me to their camp, gave me something to eat, and fixed me up as well as they knew how. Of course I was obliged to do the best I could with what they had to offer, and as paint constituted the principal part of their costume I was obliged to make use of it. They all took a hand at decorating me, and I must say that I think the tout ensemble of my appearance as an Ottawa warrior was rather neat."

"Extremely so," admitted Donald.

"That white blanket I borrowed from Miss Pontiac," continued the little paymaster, "and the moccasins I got from her brother. Of course there wasn't such a thing as a wig to be had, and so I made a liberal use of feathers in its place. The best part of the day was spent in getting me into shape, and when I called on the ladies in the evening I vow they didn't recognize me. Took me for a sure-enough Indian, and thinking I didn't understand English, I suppose, passed remarks on my appearance.

"'Isn't he a guy?' said Miss Edith.

"'Not at all,' replied Madam Rothsay; 'he is by far the best-looking Indian I have seen, and I shouldn't be surprised if he were Pontiac himself.'"

Here Donald winked at Christie.

"When I thanked her for the compliment," continued the paymaster, "and they recognized my voice, I thought that Miss Edith would have a fit, she laughed so immoderately. In fact, she did nothing but laugh whenever she caught sight of me until an event occurred that gave her something more serious to think about. It struck me as being pretty rough on a man who was trying to make the most of his opportunity to win her good graces."

"What happened to divert her from the absurdity of your masquerade?" inquired Christie.

"Nothing more nor less than news of the proposed attack on you," replied Bullen. "During the second day of my stay on the island, the war-party destined for Presque Isle came along and camped there for a few hours. I had been amusing myself and establishing a reputation as medicine man among the few Indians stationed there, by rehearsing some of my old tricks, and when this new gang appeared, nothing would do but an exhibition for their benefit. They were so impressed with my power over the fire-demon, that they invited me to join them. They promised me all sorts of honors if I would comply, and threatened to test my powers by subjecting me to torture by fire in case I refused. I had no idea at that time of their especial mission, and was wondering how to escape from my awkward fix, when at that moment Miss Edith appeared."

"Laughing as usual, I suppose?" said Donald, a little bitterly, for he was beginning to think that his sister exhibited rather too much lightness of heart, in view of the gravity of her own situation, to say nothing of the dangers and hardships he was undergoing on her behalf.

"So far from it," replied the paymaster, "that there were traces of tears on her cheeks, and she was evidently suffering great mental distress.

"'Oh, Mr. Bullen!' she said in a low tone, so as not to be overheard by the savages, in case any of them understood English, 'I have just learned of something dreadful. This war-party is on its way to surprise Presque Isle, and capture the survivors of poor Mr. Cuyler's expedition, who have probably sought refuge there. Just think how terrible it would be if they should succeed, and our friends should be killed! Can't you do something to frustrate their wicked plan? You seem to have gained such an influence over them, I am sure you can if you only will.'

"I was rather staggered by this news, of course, and when she added: 'If you would only try, Mr. Bullen, and should succeed in saving the brave men in that fort, I should ever esteem you among the very dearest of my friends,' my resolution was instantly taken.

"I answered: 'For your sake, Miss Edith, I will make the effort and do what lies in my power to thwart the design of the red villains.' With that it was really touching to witness her gratitude and to hear her say that she should pray for my safety and success from that moment."

"She must have reasoned that I would be searching for her among Cuyler's fugitives and would very likely be in Presque Isle," reflected Donald.

"I don't see how that could be," retorted Bullen; "for I had carefully avoided any mention of your name, or of the fact that I had met you, thinking it useless cruelty to arouse her anxiety before your fate was definitely known."

"Which showed remarkable good sense on your part, and I thank you for your consideration," cried Donald. "Her anxiety then must have been for—"

"But how did you proceed to make good your promise?" interrupted Christie, hastily. "It seems to me you undertook a pretty big contract."

"So it was," responded the paymaster, "and in order to carry it out, I became, from that moment, an Indian of the Indians, a redskin of the redskins, and a savage of the savages. Why, for the sake of my paint I even gave up my daily tubbing, which, by the way, in my present position of deposed medicine man and white captive, I suppose I may have the melancholy satisfaction of resuming. I immediately agreed to accompany the war-party, telling them that, having once adopted the Indian costume, I had thereby cut myself off from all companionship with the whites. I promised to teach them the art of war as practised by the redcoats, and show them how to capture Presque Isle without the loss of a man.

"Oh you did, did you?" growled Christie.

"Yes, I did, and to begin with, I delayed their progress as much as possible, in the hope that Cuyler might reach you before we overtook him, and that you might join his retreat to Niagara. For this purpose I insisted that they carry along my tub, which, as I truly affirmed, contained all my medicine. Every morning when they were ready to start, I sat in it, under a closed tent of matting, and performed magic which they dared not interrupt. Sometimes the main body went on without us, so fearful were they of interfering with my mystic rites."

"What did you do under the tent?" asked Donald.

"Oh, just jabbered gibberish and rattled things and made smokes," replied the ex-medicine man.

"Then, when we reached Presque Isle and found it still occupied, I dissuaded them from an assault and proposed the scheme of a mine by which the fort might be destroyed without the loss of a warrior. According to their belief this mine was to run directly to the blockhouse, but I so laid it out that it should strike a building some distance away. Then I meant to collect all their powder, harmlessly explode it beneath the empty building, and thus leave them without means for prosecuting the fight. This plan miscarried through a cave-in of the roof, which showed them the true location of the mine's end and gave them a chance to set fire to the building nearest the blockhouse, which they hoped thus to destroy.

"When that plan failed, they continued the mine in the direction indicated by their new bearings and you would have been blown sky-high the moment it was completed, had I not persuaded them to first demand a surrender, and then wait until morning for your answer. Then I hoped, after getting you safely out of the place, with your arms and ammunition, under the pretence of surrendering, to harmlessly explode the mine, thus destroying all the enemy's powder, and leaving you masters of the situation. How that plan was frustrated, you know as well as I, though how the powder ever got moved and prematurely exploded, I never expect to discover unless you had a hand in it, Christie."

"No," replied the ensign, who had just received an expressive glance from Donald. "Neither I nor those with me had any definite knowledge of your mine before the explosion occurred."

"Well, however it was caused, my plans were completely defeated," said Bullen, "and not only that, but my reputation as a medicine man was ruined. As soon as we got to this place, a council was called, and I was charged with exploding the mine so as to destroy the Indians instead of the blockhouse. When I protested my innocence, they argued that I must, then, have lost my power over the fire-demon, and ordered me to repeat the magic tricks by which I had gained their confidence. You witnessed my humiliating failure, and its results; even my effervescing powders had become damp and failed to act.

"That is my story, gentlemen, and, if after hearing it, you still doubt my loyalty to the service to which we are all pledged, I can have no hope that others will believe me. In that case I have no desire to live and should make no struggle against the fate these savages contemplate for me. If, however, you can believe my story, wildly improbable as I know it must sound, then am I once more restored to life and hope."

As he thus concluded, the poor little man, grotesquely painted, battered, and bruised, turned a face of such intense pleading toward the comrades who had become his judges, that they both were moved by an overwhelming impulse to spring forward at the same moment and grasp his hands.

"We do believe you!" they cried.

"I am convinced," added Christie, "that you have acted as becomes an officer and a gentleman, Bullen, bravely and according to your best judgment for the honor and advancement of our cause. This I not only say now, but am prepared to state and maintain hereafter, officially and publicly, and there is my hand on it."

"And I say," cried Donald, "that you are a trump, Bullen, a genuine trump. Not only do I offer you my sincere friendship from this time forth, but I hereby pledge all the powers of the Metai—whatever that may be—so far as I can control them, and of the totem, whose emblem I wear, to your service!"

The effect of these hearty assurances of faith in him, and of continued friendship, was such that the little man's overstrained nerves suddenly gave way. He tried to speak, failed to utter a sound, and sank