Роберт Чамберс - The Hidden Children

"Are you sure, Mayaro?"

"Certain, Loskiel. She could not have lived a single moment after the Senecas learned that she had sent out word of her captivity. That is their law, which even Amochol could not break."

"It was a mercy that our little Lois appealed not to His Excellency, so that the word ran through Canada by flag to Haldimand."

"She might have done this," said the Sagamore quietly. "She asked me at Poundridge how this might be accomplished. But when I made it clear to her that it meant her mother's death, she said no more about it."

"But pushed on blindly by herself," I exclaimed, "braving the sombre Northland forests with her little ragged feet—half naked, hungry, friendless, and alone, facing each terror calmly, possessed only of her single purpose! O Sagamore of a warrior clan that makes a history of brave deeds done, can you read in the records of your most ancient wampum a braver history than this?"

He said: "Let what this maid has done be written in the archives of the white men, where are gathered the records of brave but unwise deeds. So shall those who come after you know how to praise and where to pity our little rosy pigeon of the forest. No rash young warrior of my own people, bound to the stake itself can boast of greater bravery than this. And you, blood–brother to a Siwanois, shall witness what I say."

After a silence I said: "They must have passed Wyoming already. At this hour our little Lois may be secure under the guns of Easton. Do you not think so, Mayaro?"

As he made no answer, I glanced around at him and found him staring fixedly at the trail below us.

"What do you see on our back–trail?" I whispered.

"A man, Loskiel—if it be not a deer."

A moment and I also saw something moving far below us among the trees. As yet it was only a mere spot in the dim light of the trail, slowly ascending the height of land. Nearer, nearer it came, until at length we could see that it was a man. But no rifle slanted across his shoulder.

"He must be one of our own people," I said, puzzled. "Somebody sends us a messenger. Is he white or Indian?"

"White," said the Sagamore briefly, his eyes still riveted on the approaching figure, which now I could see was clothed in deerskin shirt and leggins.

"He carries neither pack nor rifle; only a knife and pouch. He is a wood–running fool!" I said, disgusted. "Why do they send us such a forest–running battman, when they have Oneidas at headquarters, and Coureurs–de–Bois to spare who understand their business?"

"I make nothing of him," murmured the Mohican, his eyes fairly glittering with excitement and perplexity.

"Is he, perhaps, some fugitive from Butler's rangers?" I whispered, utterly at a loss to account for such a silly spectacle. "The pitiful idiot! Did you ever gaze upon the like, Mayaro—unless he be some French mission priest. Otherwise, yonder walks the greatest of God's fools!"

"Then he is easily taken," muttered Mayaro. "Fix thy flint, Loskiel, and prime. Here is a business I do not understand."

Once the man halted and looked up at our ledge of rock, where the last sun rays still lingered, then lightly continued the ascent. And I, turning to the Mohican for some possible explanation of this amazing sight, ere we crept out to closer ambush, found Mayaro staring through the trees with a glassy and singular expression which changed swiftly to astonishment, and then to utter blankness.

"Etho!" he exclaimed, bluntly, springing to his feet behind the nearer trees, regardless whether or not the stranger saw him. "Go forward now, Loskiel. This is a fool's business—and badly begun. Now, let a white man's wisdom finish it."

I, too, had risen in surprise, stepping backward also, in order that the trees might screen me. And at the same moment the stranger rounded the jutting shoulder of our crag, and came suddenly face to face with me in midtrail.

"Euan!"

So astounded was I that my rifle fell clattering from my nerveless hand as she sprang forward and caught my shoulders with both her hands. And I saw her grey eyes filling and her lips quivering with words she could not utter.

"Lois!" I repeated, as though stupefied. "Lois!"

"Oh, Euan! Euan! I thought I would never, never come up with you!" she whimpered. "I left the batteau where it touched at Towanda Creek, and hid in the woods and dressed me in the Oneida dress you gave me. Then, by the first batt–man who passed, I sent a message to Lana saying that I was going back to—to join you. Are you displeased?"

Her trembling hands clasped my shoulders tighter, and her face drew closer, so that her sweet, excited breath fell on my cheek.

"Listen!" she stammered. "I desire to tell you everything! I will tell you all, Euan! I ran back along the trail, meeting the boat–guard, batt–men, and the sick horses all along the way to Tioga, where they took me over on a raft of logs…. I paid them three hard shillings. Then Colonel Shreve heard of what I had been about, and sent a soldier after me, but I avoided the fort, Euan, and went boldly up through the deserted camps until I came to where the army had crossed. Some teamsters mending transport wagons gave me bread and meat enough to fill my pouch; and one of them, a kindly giant, took me over the Chemung dry shod, I clinging to his broad back like a very cat—and all o' them a–laughing fit to burst!…Are you displeased, dear lad?… Then, just at night, I came up with the rear–guard, where they were searching for strayed cattle; and I stowed myself away in a broken–down wagon, full of powder—quietly, like a mouse, no one dreaming that I was not the slender youth I looked. So none molested me where I lay amid the powder casks and sacking."

She smiled wistfully, and stood caressing my arms with her eager little hands, as though to calm the wrath to come.

"I heard your regiment's pretty conch–horn in the morning," she said, "and slipped out of my wagon and edged forward amid all that swearing, sweating confusion, noticed not at all by anybody, save when a red–head Jersey sergeant bawled at me to man a rope and haul at the mired cannon with the others. But I was deaf just then, Euan, and got free o' them with nothing worse than a sound cursing from the sergeant; and away across the creek I legged it, where I hid in the bush until the firing began and the horrid shouting on the ridge. Then it was that, badly scared, I crept through the Indian grass like a hunted hare, and saw Lieutenant Boyd there, and his men, halted across the trail. And very soon our cannon began, and then it was that I saw you and your Indians filing out to the right. So I followed you. Oh, Euan, are you very angry? Because, dear lad, I have had so lonely a trail, what with keeping clear of your party so that you might not catch me and send me back, and what with losing you after you had left the main, trodden trail! Save for the marks you left on trees, I had been utterly lost—and must have perished, no doubt―" She looked at me with melting eyes.

"Think on that, Euan, ere you grow too angry and are cruel with me."

"Cruel? Lois, you have been more heartless than I ever―"

"There! I knew it! Your anger is about to burst its dreadful bounds―"

"Child! What is there to say or do now? What is there left for me, save to offer you what scant protection I may—good God!—and take you forward with us in the morning? This is a cruel, unmerited perplexity you have caused me, Lois. What unkind inspiration prompted you to do this rash, mad, foolish thing! How could you so conduct? What can you hope to accomplish in all this wicked and bloody business that now confronts us? How can I do my duty—how perform it to the letter—with you beside me—with my very heart chilling to water at thought of your peril―"

"Hush, dearest lad," she whispered, tightening her fingers on my sleeve. "All in the world I care for lies in this place where we now stand—or near it. Have I not told you that I must go to Catharines–town? How could I remain behind when every tie I have in all the world was tugging at my heart to draw me hither? You ask me what I can do—what I can hope to accomplish. God knows—but my mother and my lover are here—and how could I stay away if there was a humble chance that I might do some little thing to aid her—to aid you, Euan?