Montlivet Part 33

But I was held fast, and while I struggled came a mighty cry from behind me, "Mary! Mary! Mary!" Starling's Goliath frame pushed by me, and his captors were hurled like pygmies to each side.

The woman was unprepared. She cried at sight of him with a deep throaty terror that sent the blood to my brain. Starling would have pressed himself to her, but she put out her unbound arms and fended him away. And then he stood with his great height bowed and pleaded to her. I had shrugged at the English for their hard reserve, but when I heard this man I learned again that it is always the dammed torrent that is to be feared. Even the Indians heard in silence.

The silence lasted. Never before nor since have I known savages to take the background and let two whites play out a tragedy unchecked.

But now they formed a ring and watched. They forgot their interest in me and let me go. I could stand unheeded. An old man threw tinder on the fire, and we saw each other's faces as in the searching, red light of a storm. I watched the cords in Starling's neck tighten and relax as he talked on and on.

The drama was in pantomime to me, as to the Indians, for the cousins spoke in English. But I could understand the woman's face. She spoke in monosyllables, but I could have pitied any other man for the gulf she put between them by her look. She was more than scornful; torn and disheveled as she was, she was cruelly radiant, her eyes black-lined and her lips hard. She was una.s.sailable. And when she met her kinsman's eye I gloried in her till I could have laid my cheek on the ground at her feet.

It was plain they were kinsmen. I had marked the strange blood resemblance between them when I first saw the man, and it was doubly to be noted now. It was blood against blood as they faced each other.

And it came to me that it was more than a personal duel. No wrong is so unforgivable as one from our own family whose secret weaknesses we know and share, and I felt that the repulsion in the woman's eyes was part for herself and part for her pride of race. Yet I was uncertain of the issue. The tie of blood is strong, and after a few minutes I thought that Starling was gaining ground. His great personality enwrapped us all, and his strange, compelling voice went on and on and on, pleading, pleading in a tongue that I could not understand. His eyes never left the woman's, and in time hers fell. I tried to clench my bound hands, for my pride in her was hurt; yet I could understand his power.

It was just then that the savages wearied of the spectacle and hustled Starling away. They saw that he was English, and they unbound his arms, and began to take counsel concerning him. In a flash I saw my path clear. They were friendly to the English. The woman was English.

I must not let her identify herself with me. And so when her glance crept back to me, I was prepared. I would not stop to read what her look might say. I shook my head at her and dropped my eyes. I made the same signal to Singing Arrow. The Indian would understand my motive; I could not be sure about the woman.

And then I turned and mingled with the crowd, with my heart beating strangely but my brain cool. The interest was centring in Starling, and the older men had their calumets in hand and were preparing for the council. I saw that for a few hours at least I should have life and semi-liberty. There was no possibility of my escape, so, bound as I was, I was free to wander within limits. I would keep as near the women as possible and try and herd my faction together.

I had been too absorbed to use my eyes, but now I saw that a captive was lying near my feet. He was closely tied on two pieces of rough wood shaped like a St. Andrew's cross, and was a hideous sight with his tongue protruding and his eyes beginning to glaze. Dogs were scrambling and tearing at him, and I edged nearer and tried to drive them away. I examined him as closely as I dared, and judged by the dressing of his long hair that he was a Miami. In that case the war party must have come from the south by way of the Ohio and the Illinois country, and they were probably working their way north to reach Michillimackinac on its unguarded side. I saw it was a war party, for there were no women with them, and the Iroquois carry their families on all hunting trips.

I looked at the dying man and wished for my knife. So they tortured Indian captives while they let me, a Frenchman, go lightly bound.

Well, my turn was yet to come. My white skin probably gave me importance enough so that I would be referred to the council. I would not look ahead. I would plan for the moment, and open eyes and ears.

There were many captives, I saw now, and my anxiety for Leclerc and Labarthe grew keen. I made my slow way around the bound figures. Some were pegged to the ground by their out-stretched hands and feet, and some were stretched on crosses. But all were Indians. I saw more Miamis, a few Kickapoos, and some whom I did not know; I learned later that they were Mascoutens. And then I saw Labarthe. He was tied to a tree, Leclerc beside him. Leclerc, who was ever a fool, would have motioned to me, but Labarthe struck down his arm and gave a blank stare. So I was able to get near them. They looked blood-stained and jaded, but practically unhurt, and I saw a half-eaten chunk of meat in Leclerc's hand. They had been fed and reasonably well treated. But that meant nothing as guide to what might come.

I had not made my way alone. Starling was the chief attraction, but I, too, was the centre of a curious, chaffering crowd. The braves were unwontedly good-humored, childishly pleased with the evening's excitement, and I amused them still further by shrugging at them and making great faces of contempt. When one offered me a meal cake I kicked at him and trampled the food into the ground, and as I swaggered away I heard him tell the others that I was a bear for courage. I could have smiled at that, for I was acting more like a bl.u.s.tering terrier than any n.o.bler animal, but I would not let them see that I understood their tongue.

And so I pushed my way about. But wherever I went, or whatever else my eyes were doing, I kept watch upon the woman. She stood quiet with Singing Arrow and waited for what might come. Her fate was hanging with Starling's at the council ring, and I knew that I must keep away from her. That was not easy. Each time that I let my glance rest upon the foulness of the camp I felt that I must go to her and blind her eyes. But I never made more than one step. I had only to look at her to understand that her spirit had learned in these months to hold itself above the body. What was pa.s.sing did not touch her; she lived in the fortress of her splendidly garrisoned pride. Singing Arrow stood equally aloof, intrenched in her stoicism, but I think the root motives of the two were different, though the outside index was the same. Indeed, we all had different wellsprings for our composure.

Pierre's stolidity was largely training. Starling's quiet might mean instinctive imitation, but I feared it was something more sinister.

While mine---- But I had no composure. I swaggered and shrugged and played harlequin and boaster.

We were soon to learn that Starling's quiet was not impervious. I saw him start. His hand flew to where his knife had been, and his teeth showed like a jackal's. A figure that had lain, blanket-shrouded in the shadow, had risen and come forward. It was Pemaou. He had pleased his humor by being an unseen auditor and letting us play out our various forms of resistance and despair for his delight. Now he would make a dramatic entry. He was dressed for the part in a loin cloth, a high laced hat of scarlet, and the boots of a captain of dragoons. He stopped before Starling and grinned silently. Then he held his hat, French fas.h.i.+on, and made a derisive bow. The Englishman forgot his dignity and cursed. I wished that I had been near enough to hold up a warning hand.

I knew my turn was next, so was prepared. Pemaou sought me, and stood before me, but I would not see him; I looked through him as through gla.s.s. He spoke to me in French, but I was deaf. I heard the Senecas grunt with amus.e.m.e.nt.

Pemaou heard it too, and his war plume quivered. He gave an order in Huron, and one of his men came behind me and unbound my hands. I could have jeered at the childishness of his open purpose. He hoped that, with my hands free, I would spring at him, impotent and vengeful as a caged rattlesnake, and that then he could turn me over to the sport and torture of the mob. I stretched my freed arms, laughed to myself, and turned away. My laugh was genuine. It was wine to me that he should have shown weakness in this fas.h.i.+on, when in some ways he had proved himself a better general than I. It was a small victory, but it cheered me.

I do not know how long the council lasted, but it seemed hours. The old men rose at last, and going to Starling, patted him, grunted over him, and examined him. I could not hear what they said, but it was evidently pacific; they led him off in the direction of the largest lodge.

And then came the woman's turn. I knew that my face was strained, though I strove to keep it sneering. I saw the oldest man give instructions, then he went to the two women and pointed the way before him. I pushed along as best I could. He took them to a small hut of bark and motioned them within, while he himself dropped the mat in front of the opening. They were safe for that night at least.

The savages were wearied now and turned to Pierre and me with yawns.

They made short work of us. I was bound to the arm of a stout warrior, and he dragged me under a tree and dropped on the ground. He was snoring before I had finished building a barricade of cloak between us to keep as much as possible of his touch and smell away.

The camp quieted rapidly, and I soon had only silence between me and the stars. My mind was active but curiously placid. Inch by inch I went over the ground of the last twenty-four hours. I stated the case to myself as a foreigner translates a lesson. It is sometimes a help to put a situation in the concrete, to phrase it as to a stranger. In that way you stand aloof and see new light. So I put the matter in category, sharing it with the stars, and with the back of the snoring Indian.

We were in Pemaou's hands. He had known that the Iroquois were coming; had probably known it months before, and had instigated this campaign.

He wished an alliance with the English, and, though he could work to that end through the Iroquois, he would find an English prisoner a material aid. I could see how useful I had been to him in keeping the Englishwoman away from Michillimackinac,--where he would have had ado to hold his t.i.tle of possession to her,--and I could not but respect the skill with which he had timed his blow, and brought her to the Iroquois camp at the right moment. Yes, I had served him well, from the time when I had a.s.sisted him to hear Longuant's speech in the Ottawa camp to the present hour. The accident that had strengthened him still further by throwing Lord Starling into his hands he also owed to me. But I looked up at the stars and did not lose courage. The game was not over; the score was yet to be paid.

I had many plans to arrange. Day was coming, and I watched the horizon breaking and felt that the morning would bring new opportunity.

And then, just as I needed all my wit and presence, I fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

CHAPTER XXII

THE PRICE OF SLEEP

I do not know that, after all, I can call that sleep which fell upon me. Sleep is merely a blessed veiling of the faculties; this was collapse, deadness. The Indian beside me must have been equally worn, for he lay like a log. We were huddled close to a tree, so were unnoticed, or at least undisturbed. The sun was hours high when I opened my eyes.

I sprang to my feet, dragging the Indian to his knees. He grunted, rubbed his eyes, and feeling sluggish and uncomfortable from the warmth of the morning, found me an incubus. He grunted again, untied the thongs that bound us, and went, stretching and yawning, to find his breakfast.

I stood for a moment marshaling my wits. The bright day and the noise confused me, for I had been deep sunk in unconsciousness, and grasped the real world unsteadily. The camp was even larger than the night had shown, and it took some looking to find the woman's lodge. It was empty; the mat was pulled down from before the door.

I should have expected nothing else, for the morning was far advanced, but I felt baffled, belated, like one whose long unconsciousness had carried him hopelessly out of touch with his surroundings. Most of the Indians were gathered at the sh.o.r.e, and I made my way toward them. I went but slowly, for I had to feign indifference. I knew that every step was watched. Perhaps the woman herself was watching. I burned with shame to think she should have seen me sleep so soddenly. I expected every moment to see her in the crowd.

But when I reached the beach the crowd was straying as if the excitement were over. Far out on the water to the northeast was a flotilla of canoes fast disappearing. Whom did they carry? Had they left from the camp? I cursed myself for my lost hours. The threads of the situation had slipped from my hand, and all my feeling of competence and hope of the night before had gone with them. I could see no sign of the woman nor of Starling. Pierre's red head was a beacon, but I dared not go to him. He was bending over a caldron of boiling meat, and I saw that my man was himself again, and that the trencher called him more winningly than any voice of mine. I shrugged, and went to the beach to make what toilet I could. The cold water recreated me. I was more a man when I strolled back in the crowd.

And then I saw Labarthe. He was unbound and mingling with the Indians.

Leclerc was close beside him, shuffling and docile; he, too, was free, as was Pierre. Four of us, and our hands at liberty. This looked better. I hummed a tune, clapped a brave on the shoulder, and motioned him to bring me meat and meal. But where was the woman?

I saw Labarthe working toward me with his eyes the other way, so I knew he had news. He was nimbler witted than Pierre, though less valuable on a long stretch. I dreaded Leclerc, for he could not be trusted even for good sense, and I heartily wished him elsewhere. But Pierre came to the rescue; he called Leclerc boldly, and drew him to the meat caldron. I was satisfied. Three of us were working in unison,--and we had worked together in this way before, and won. But where were Pemaou, and Starling, and the woman?

Labarthe made his way near, and stood with his back toward me. I remembered a roundelay that we had sung in camp. I whistled it, picking, in the meantime, at the bone the Indian had brought. I whistled the tune once, twice, several times. Then I fitted words to it.

"Where is the woman? Where is the Englishman? Tell me." I sang the words boldly, but in b.a.s.t.a.r.d French with clipped accents. I feared that among all these Senecas there might be one or more who had some smattering of the French tongue.

Labarthe did not answer at once nor look around, so I went on singing.

Nonsense words now, with no coherence or meaning, and all in French that a cowherd would have been ashamed to own.

I worked at last to a crescendo of sound that gave Labarthe his cue.

He turned and laughed, as if noticing me for the first time. He c.o.c.ked his head like a game bird, planted his legs apart, and joined the song.

He had the biggest voice from Montreal to Chambly, and he sung with full lung power and at breathless speed. It was a torrent of sound; my ears were strained to follow it.

"Five large canoes left this morning," he warbled. "They carried madame, the Englishman, Pemaou, and his Hurons, and a detachment of the Senecas,--some seventy-five in all. They went to Michillimackinac."

The news. .h.i.t me like a bullet, and I must have whitened, but I kept on singing. I nodded at Labarthe, and sang, I think, of spring and running brooks. Then I flung a jeer at him and ate my breakfast. I ate it systematically and stolidly, though it would not have tempted any but a starving man. I was a fool and a dullard. I had slept away my opportunities, and I could not see that my strength was important to any one. But I determined to preserve it.

If I kept up jest and laughter for the next hours--and I have some memory that I did--it was automatic. For I more nearly touched despair than ever before. I did not need the sentences that I picked up further among the Indians to tell me what had happened. The Senecas, under Pemaou's guidance, had gone to Michillimackinac; had put their heads into the bear's mouth, and yet were as safe as in their own village, for the bear's teeth were drawn, and the Senecas were armored.

They traveled with Pemaou, and they had two English prisoners. That insured them protection from the Hurons, who desired the English alliance and had leanings toward the Iroquois. As to the Ottawas,--there was Singing Arrow as hostage. It was significant that the Senecas had allowed Singing Arrow to go unbound. They desired an alliance with the Ottawas. I remembered Longuant's speech, and his indicated policy of casting his strength with the winning side, and I thought it probable they would succeed.

And if they succeeded? Well, Cadillac had his two hundred regulars.

Yet he could not hope to win, and he would do what he could to hold off the necessity of trying. He would not dare seize the Senecas. No, the league of the Long House had won. Their braves could sit in our garrison at their leisure and exchange peace belts with our Indians under our eyes. I set my teeth and wondered what part Starling had played in it all. He had grown curiously at ease when he had found himself in an Iroquois camp. I had no choice but to believe that Pemaou had tricked and deceived him, as he had said, but that did not mean that he had not been in league with Pemaou in the beginning.

Pemaou was capable of tricking a confederate. No Englishman understands an Indian, and if he had patronized Pemaou the Huron would have retaliated in just this way. I grew sick with the maze of my thought. But one thing I grasped. With part of the Senecas in the French camp, we Frenchmen would be spared for a time. We would be convenient for exchange, or to exact terms of compromise. They might torture us, but they would keep us alive till the issue of this expedition was known.

All about me were preparations for a permanent camp. This puzzled me for a time, but I soon worked out the reason. They were afraid to march with their full force on Michillimackinac, for they feared the friends.h.i.+p of the western tribes for the French, and thought that if a large war party marched openly toward the garrison these tribes would rally to Cadillac's defense. So this camp was kept as watch-dog for the western region. I prayed that Cadillac keep his judgment cool.

One thing brought smiles that I had to turn into vacant and misleading laughter. Through all the talk ran my name,--that they did not know was mine. They had heard that I was stirring among the western tribes, and that I was making them dangerous. They spoke of my knowledge of Indian tongues, and added apocryphal tales of my feats of wit and daring. My image loomed large, and it was no wonder that they did not connect this mythical Colossus with the swaggering royster who played buffoon for their mirth. I wondered that Pemaou had not told them, but I reflected that there is a mutual distrust among Indians that takes the place of reticence, and that that had saved me. I had escaped for the moment, but the ice was thin. I should be given short shrift once my name was known.