The Masters of the Peaks: A Story of the Great North Woods, Joseph A. Altsheler [the top 100 crime novels of all time txt] 📗

"They are the best they had in the village," he said. "It is not a large and rich village and so its possessions are not great, but I think these will do. I have also brought with me some very tender meat of a young deer that I found in one of the lodges."

"You're all you claimed to be and more, Tayoga," said Robert earnestly and gratefully.

The Onondaga lighted a fire in a dip, and cutting the deer into tiny bits made a most appetizing soup, which Robert's weak stomach was able to retain and to crave more.

"No," said Tayoga, "enough for tonight, but you shall have twice as much in the morning. Now, go to sleep again."

"I haven't been doing anything but sleep for the last day or two. I want to get up and walk."

"And have your fever come back. Besides, you are not strong enough yet to walk more than a few steps."

Robert knew that he would be forced to obey, and he passed the night partly in dozing, and partly in staring at the sky. In the morning he was very hungry and showed an increase of strength. Tayoga, true to his word, gave him a double portion of the soup, but still forbade sternly any attempt at walking.

"Lie there, Dagaeoga," he said, "and let the wind blow over you, and I'll go farther into the forest to see if friend or enemy be near."

Robert, feeling that he must, lay peacefully on his back after the Onondaga left him. He was free from fever, but he knew that Tayoga was right in forbidding him to walk. It would be several days yet before he could fulfill his old duties, as an active and powerful forest runner. Yet he was very peaceful because the soreness of body that had troubled him was gone and strength was flowing back into his veins. Despite the fact that he was lying on his back alone in the wilderness, with savage foes not far away, he believed that he had very much for which to be grateful. He had been taken almost by a miracle out of the hands of his foes, and, when he was ill and in his weakness might have been devoured by wild beasts or might have starved to death, the most loyal and resourceful of comrades had been by his side to save him.

He saw the great star on which Tayoga's Tododaho lived, and he accepted so much of the Iroquois theology, believing that it was in spirit and essence the same as his own Christian belief, that he almost imagined he could see the great Onondaga chieftain who had gone away four centuries ago. In any event, it was a beneficent star, and he was glad that it shone down on him so brilliantly.

Tayoga before his departure had loaned him one of his blankets and now he lay upon it, with the other wrapped around him, his loaded pistol in his belt and his loaded rifle lying by his side. The fire that the Onondaga had built in the dip not far away had been put out carefully and the ashes had been scattered.

Although it was midsummer, the night, as often happened in that northern latitude, had come on cool, and the warmth of the blankets was not unwelcome. Robert knew that he was only a mote in all that vast wilderness, but the contiguity of the Indian village might cause warriors, either arriving or departing, to pass near him. So he was not surprised when he heard footsteps in the bushes not far away, and then the sound of voices. Instinctively he tried to press his body into the earth, and he also lifted carefully the loaded rifle, but second thought told him he was not likely to be seen.

Warriors presently came so near that they were visible, and to his surprise and alarm he saw the huge figure of Tandakora among them. They were about a dozen in number, walking in the most leisurely manner and once stopped very close to him to talk. Although he raised himself up a little and clutched the rifle more tightly he was still hopeful that they would not see him. The Ojibway chieftain was in full war paint, with a fine new American rifle, and also a small sword swinging from his belt. Both were undoubtedly trophies of Oswego, and it was certain that after carrying the sword for a while as a prize he would discard it. Indians never found much use for swords.

Robert always believed that Tayoga's Tododaho protected him that night, because for a while all the chances were against him. As the warriors stood near talking a frightened deer started up in the thicket, and Tandakora himself brought it down with a lucky bullet, the unfortunate animal falling not thirty yards from the hidden youth. They removed the skin and cut it into portions where it lay, the whole task taking about a half hour, and all the time Robert, lying under the brush, saw them distinctly.

He was in mortal fear lest one of them wander into the dip where Tayoga had built the fire, and see traces of the ashes, but they did not do so. Twice warriors walked in that direction and his heart was in his mouth, but in neither case did the errand take them so far. Tandakora was not alone in bearing Oswego spoils. Nearly all of them had something, a rifle, a pistol or a sword, and two wore officers' laced coats over their painted bodies. The sight filled Robert with rage. Were his people to go on this way indefinitely, sacrificing men and posts in unrelated efforts? Would they allow the French, with inferior numbers, to beat them continuously? He had seen Montcalm and talked with him, and he feared everything from that daring and tenacious leader.

While the Indians prepared the deer the moon and stars came out with uncommon brilliancy, filling the forest with a misty, silver light. Robert now saw Tandakora and his men so clearly that it seemed impossible for them not to see him. Once more he had the instinctive desire to press himself into the earth, but his mind told him that absolute silence was the most necessary thing. As he lay, he could have picked off Tandakora with a bullet from his rifle, and, so far as the border was concerned, he felt that his own life was worth the sacrifice, but he loved his life and the Ojibway might be put out of the way at some other time and place.

Tayoga's Tododaho protected him once more. Two of the Indians wanted water and they started in search of a brook which was never far away in that region. It seemed for a moment or two that they would walk directly into the dip, where scattered ashes lay, but the great Onondaga turned them aside just in time and they found at another point the water they wished. Robert's extreme tension lasted until they were back with the others. Nevertheless their harmless return encouraged him in the belief that the star was working in his behalf.

The Indians were in no hurry. They talked freely over their task of dressing and quartering the deer, and often they were so near that Robert could hear distinctly what they said, but only once or twice did they use a dialect that he could understand, and then they were speaking of the great victory of Oswego, in which they confirmed the inference, drawn from the spoils, that they like Tandakora had taken a part. They were in high good humor, expecting more triumphs, and regarded the new French commander, Montcalm, as a great and invincible leader.

Robert was glad, then, that he was such an insignificant mote in the wilderness and had he the power he would have made himself so small that he would have become invisible, but as that was impossible he still trusted in Tayoga's Tododaho. The Indian chief gave two of the warriors an order, and they started on a course that would have brought them straight to him. The lad gave himself up for lost, but, intending to make a desperate fight for it, despite his weakness, his hand crept to the hammer and trigger of his rifle. Something moved in the thicket, a bear, perhaps, or a lynx, and the two Indians, when they were within twenty feet of him, turned aside to investigate it. Then they went on, and it was quite clear again to Robert that he had been right about the friendly intervention of Tododaho.

Nor was it long until the truth was demonstrated to him once more, and in a conclusive manner. The entire party departed, taking with them the portions of the deer, and they passed so very close to him that their wary eyes, which always watched on all sides, would have been compelled to see him, if Tododaho, or perhaps it was Areskoui, or even Manitou, had not seen fit just at that moment to draw a veil before the moon and stars and make the shadow so deep under the bush where young Lennox lay that he was invisible, although they stepped within fifteen feet of him. They went on in their usual single file, disappearing in the direction of the village, while he lay still and gave thanks.

They had not been gone more than fifteen minutes when there was a faint rustle in the thicket, and Tayoga stood before him.

"I was hid in a clump of weeds not far away and I saw," said the Onondaga. "It was a narrow escape, but you were protected by the great powers of the earth and the air. Else they would have seen you."

"It is so," said Robert, devoutly, "and it makes me all the more glad to see you, Tayoga. I hope your journey, like all the others, has been fruitful."

The Onondaga smiled in the dusk.

"It is a good village to which I go," he replied in his precise fashion. "You will recall that they had in Albany what they call in the English tongue a chemist's shop. It is such that I sought in the village, and I found it in one lodge, the owners of which were absent, and which I could reach at my leisure. Here is a gourd of Indian tea, very strong, made from the essence of the sassafras root. It will purge the impurities from your blood, and, in another day, your appetite will be exceedingly strong. Then your strength will grow so fast that in a short time you will be ready for a long journey. I have also brought a small sack filled with samp."

Robert uttered a little cry of joy. He craved bread, or at least something that would take its place, and samp, a variation of which is known as hominy, was a most acceptable substitute.

"You are, in truth, a most efficient burglar, Tayoga," he said.

"I obtained also information," continued the Onondaga. "While I lay in one of the lodges, hidden under furs, I heard two of the old men talking. They believe since they have taken Oswego that all things are possible for them and the French. Montcalm appears to them the greatest of all leaders and he will take them from one victory to another. Their defeat by Andiatarocte is forgotten, and they plan a great advance toward the south. But they intend first to sweep up all the scouts and bands of the Americans and English. Their first attack will be upon Rogers, him whom we call the Mountain Wolf."

"Rogers! Is he somewhere near us?" exclaimed Robert eagerly.

"Far to the east toward Andiatarocte, but they mean to strike him. The Frenchmen De Courcelles and Jumonville will join with Tandakora, then St. Luc will go too and he will lead a great force against the Mountain Wolf, with whom, I suspect, our friend the Great Bear now is, hoping perhaps, as they hunt through the forest, to discover some traces of us."

"I knew all along, Tayoga, that Dave would seek me and rescue me if you didn't, or if I didn't rescue myself, provided I remained alive, as you see I did."

"The Great Bear is the most faithful of all comrades. He would never desert a friend in the hands of the enemy."

"You think then that we should try to meet the Mountain Wolf and his rangers?"

"Of a certainty. As soon as Dagaeoga is strong enough. Now lie still, while I scout through the forest. If no enemy is near I will heat the tea, and then you must drink, and drink deep."

He made a wide circuit, and, coming back, lighted a little fire on which he warmed the tea in the pot