The Lords of the Wild: A Story of the Old New York Border, Joseph A. Altsheler [the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT] 📗

"What made you wait for us?" asked Robert.

"You know how I roam the woods, doing as I please and under nobody's command. I found that Tandakora was by the lake with warriors and that St. Luc was not far away. Tandakora's men seemed to be trailing somebody, and hiding in the bushes, I spied on them. I was near enough to hear two warriors talking and I learned that it was you they were following. Then, coming on ahead, I left a trail for you to see. And I've got plenty of bear steaks already cooked for you."

"God bless you, Mr. Black Rifle," said Grosvenor fervently.

"Amen!" said Robert.

Black Rifle showed them his lair among dense bushes, and, after they had satisfied their hunger, the bear, divided in equal portions among all, was stored away in their knapsacks, Grosvenor luckily having retained his own as the Indians had not deprived him of it. They now had food enough for several days, and one great source of anxiety was removed.

"What had you found, Black Rifle?" asked Willet.

"St. Luc has a big force. He's throwing a sort of veil before
Montcalm, while the Marquis fortifies to meet the attack of the
British and Americans that all know is coming. Perhaps the Lieutenant
can tell us most about that force!"

"It's to be a great one," said Grosvenor.

"And we'll go through to Quebec!" said Robert, his eyes flashing, his imagination at once alive. "We'll put out forever the fire that's always burning in the north and give our border peace."

"Easy, lads, easy!" said Willet. "A thing's never done until it's done. I feel pretty sure we'll do it, but we'll reckon with present difficulties first. It seems to me it's our duty now to follow St. Luc, and see what he means to do with his force. It's hard on you, Lieutenant, because you'll have to stay with us. You can't go back to Albany just yet."

Grosvenor glanced around at the unbroken forest. "I'm resigned," he said. "After that wonderful escape I'm ready for anything. I see that this is my great chance to become a scout, and I'll do the best I can."

"I take it," said Black Rifle, "that the main object of St. Luc is to clear the forest of all our scouts and skirmishers in order that we may be kept in complete ignorance of Montcalm's movements. We'll show him that he can't do it. You have not forgotten any of your skill, have you, Tayoga?"

"So far from forgetting any of it he's acquired more," said Willet, answering for the Onondaga. "When it comes to trailing that boy just breathes it in. He adds some new tricks every day. But I think we'd better lie by, the rest of to-day, and to-night, don't you, Black Rifle? We don't want to wear out our lads at the start."

"Well spoken, Dave," responded Black Rifle. "It's a camp in the enemy's country we'll have to make with the warriors all about us, but we must take the risk. We'd better go to the next brook and walk up it a long distance. It's the oldest of all tricks to hide your trail, but it is still the best."

They found the brook only a few hundred yards farther on, and extended their walk along its pebbly bed fully a mile and a half as a precaution, keeping to their wading until they could emerge on rocky ground, where they left no trail.

"It will be only chance now that will bring them down on us," said Willet. "Do you think, Lieutenant, that after such a long walk you could manage another bear steak?"

"If the company will join me!" replied Grosvenor. "I don't wish to show bad manners."

"I'll join you," said Willet, speaking for the others, "and I think we'll make a brief camp on that wooded hill there."

"Why on a hill, Mr. Willet? Why not in a hollow where it seems to me we would be better hidden?"

"Because, besides hiding ourselves, we want to see, and you can see better from a height than from a valley. In the bushes there we'll have a view all about us, and I don't think our enemies can come too near, unseen by us. When we get into the thicket on the hill, Lieutenant, you can resume that pleasant nap that you did not finish. Eight or ten hours more of sleep will be just the thing for you."

"All of you sleep a while," said Black Rifle. "I'll guard. I'm fresh.
But be sure you walk on the stones. We must leave no trace."

They found a fairly comfortable place in the thicket and soon all were asleep except Black Rifle, who sat with his rifle between his knees, and from his covert scanned the forest on all sides.

Black Rifle felt satisfaction. He was pleased to be with the friends for whom he cared most. An historical figure, solitary, aloof, he was a vivid personality, yet scarcely anything was known about him. His right name even had disappeared, and, to the border, far and near he was just Black Rifle, or Black Jack, a great scout and a terror to the Indians. In his way, he was fond of Willet, Tayoga and young Lennox, and he felt also that he would like Grosvenor when he knew him better. So, while they slept, he watched with a vigilance that nobody save Tayoga could surpass.

Black Rifle saw the life of the forest go on undisturbed. The birds on the boughs went about their business, and the little animals worked or played as usual in the bushes. Everything said to him that no enemy was near, and his own five senses confirmed it. The afternoon passed, and, about twilight, Tayoga awoke, but the others slept on.

"Sleep now, Black Rifle," said the Onondaga. "I will take up the watch."

"I don't feel like closing my eyes just yet, Tayoga," replied the scout, "and I'll sit a while with you. Nothing has happened. Tandakora has not been able to find our trail."

"But he will hunt long for it, Black Rifle. When my race hates it hates well. Tandakora feels his grudge against us. He has tried to do us much harm and he is grieved because we have not fallen before him. He blames us for it."

"I know he does. Did you hear something walking in the thicket at the bottom of the hill?"

"It is only a bear. Perhaps he is looking for a good place in which to pass the night, but he will go much farther away."

"Why, Tayoga?"

"Because the wind is shifting about a little, and, in another minute, it will take him a whiff of the human odor. Then he will run away, and run fast. Now he is running."

"I don't hear him, Tayoga, but I take it that you know what you are saying is true."

"My ears are uncommonly keen, Black Rifle. It is no merit of mine that they are so. Why should a man talk about a gift from Manitou, when it really is the work of Manitou? Ah, the bear is going toward the south and he is well frightened because he never stops to look back, nor does he hesitate! Now he is gone and he will not come back again!"

Black Rifle glanced at the Onondaga in the dusk, and his eyes were full of admiration.

"You have wonderful gifts, Tayoga," he said. "I don't believe such eyes and ears as yours are to be found in the head of any other man."

"But, as I have just told you, Black Rifle, however good they may be the credit belongs to Manitou and not to me. I am but a poor instrument."

"Still you find 'em useful, and the exercise of such powers must yield a certain pleasure. They're particularly valuable just now, as I'm thinking we'll have an eventful night."

"I think so too, Black Rifle. With the warriors and the French so near us it is not likely that it could pass in peace."

"At any rate, Dave and the lads are not worrying about it. I never saw anybody sleep more soundly. I reckon they were pretty well worn out."

"So they were, and, unless danger comes very close, we will not awaken them. That it will be near us soon I do not doubt because Tododaho warns me that peril is at hand."

He was looking up at the star on which his patron saint sat and his face had that rapt expression which it always wore when his spirit leaped into the void to meet that of the great Onondaga chief who had gone away four hundred years ago. Black Rifle regarded him with respect. He too was steeped in Indian lore and belief, and, if Tayoga said he saw and heard what others could not hear or see, then he saw and heard them and that was all there was to it.

"What do you see, Tayoga?" he asked.

"Tododaho sits on his star with the wise snakes, coil on coil in his hair, and the great Mohawk, Hayowentha, who is inferior only to Tododaho, speaks to him from his own star across infinite space. They are talking of us, but it comes only as a whisper, like the dying voice of a distant wind, and I cannot understand their words. But both the great warriors look down warningly at us. They tell us to beware, that we are threatened by a great peril. I can read their faces. But a mist is passing in the heavens. The star of the Mohawk fades. Lo, it is gone! And now the vapors gather before the face of Tododaho too. Lo, he also has gone, and there are only clouds and mists in the far heavens! But the great chiefs, from their stars, have told us to watch and to watch well."

"I believe you! I believe every word you say, Tayoga," exclaimed Black Rifle, in a tone of awe. "The mist is coming down here too. I think it's floating in from the lake. It will be all over the thickets soon. I reckon that the danger threatening us is from the warriors, and if we are in a veil of fog we'll have to rely on our ears. I'm not bragging when I say that mine are pretty good, but yours are better."

Tayoga did not reply. He knew that the compliment was true, but, as before, he ascribed the credit to Manitou because he had made the gift and not to himself who was merely an involuntary agent. The mist and vapors were increasing, drifting toward them in clouds from the lake, a vanguard of shreds and patches, already floating over the bushes in which they lay. It was evident that soon they would not be able to see five yards from there.

In ten minutes the mist became a fog, white and thick. The sleeping three were almost hidden, although they were at the feet of the watchers, and the two saw each other but dimly. They seemed to be in a tiny island with a white ocean circling about them. The Onondaga lay flat and put his ear to the earth.

"What do you hear, Tayoga?" whispered the scout.

"Nothing yet, Black Rifle, but the usual whispers of the wilderness, a little wind among the trees and a distant and uneasy deer walking."

"Why should a deer be walking about at this time, and why should he be uneasy, Tayoga? Any deer in his right mind ought to be taking his rest now in the forest."

"That is true, Black Rifle, but this deer is worried and when a deer is worried there is a cause. A deer is not like a man, full of fancies and creating danger when danger there is none. He is troubled because there are strange presences in the woods, presences that he dreads."

"Maybe he scents us."

"No, the wind does not blow from us toward him. Do not move! Do not stir in the least, Black Rifle! I think I catch another sound, almost as light as that made by a leaf when it falls! Ah, Manitou is good to me! He makes me hear to-night better than I ever heard before, because it is his purpose, I know not why, to make me do so! There comes the little sound again and it is real! It was a footstep far away, and then another and another and now many! It is the tread of marching men and