The night was admirably suited to their purpose--otherwise they would
not have dared to leave Fort Refuge--and Willet, Tayoga and Robert
alone undertook the task. Wilton, Carson and others were anxious to
go, but, as an enterprise of such great danger required surpassing
skill, the three promptly ruled them out. The hunter and young Lennox
would have disguised themselves as Indians, but as they did not have
any paint in the fort they were compelled to go forth in their own
garb.
The cold had softened greatly, and, as heavy clouds had come with it,
there was promise of snow, which in truth the three hoped would fall,
since it would be an admirable cloak for their purpose. But in any
event theirs was to be a perilous path, and Colden shook hands with
the three as they lowered themselves softly from the palisade.
"Come back," he whispered. "If you find the task too dangerous let it
go and return at once. We need you here in the fort."
"We'll come back as victors," Robert replied with confidence. Then he
and his comrades crouched, close against the palisade and
listened. The Indian fires showed dimly in the heavy dusk, and they
knew that sentinels were on watch in the woods, but still keeping in
the shadow of the palisade they went to the far side, where the Indian
line was thinner. Then they dropped to hand and knee and crept toward
the forest.
They stopped at intervals, lying flat upon the ground, looking with
all their eyes and listening with all their ears. They saw ahead but
one fire, apparently about four hundred yards away, and they heard
only a light damp wind rustling the dry boughs and bushes. But they
knew they could not afford to relax their caution by a hair, and they
continued a slow creeping progress until they reached the woods. Then
they rested on their elbows in a thicket, and took long breaths of
relief. They had been a quarter of an hour in crossing the open and it
was an immense relief to sit up again. They kept very close together,
while their muscles recovered elasticity, and still used their eyes
and ears to the utmost. It was impossible to say that a warrior was
not near crouching in the thicket as they were, and they did not
intend to run any useless risk. Moreover, if the alarm were raised
now, they would escape into the fort, and await another chance.
But they neither heard nor saw a hostile presence. In truth, they saw
nothing that betokened a siege, save the dim light flickering several
hundred yards ahead of them, and they resumed their advance, bent so
low that they could drop flat at the first menace. Their eyes looked
continually for a sentinel, but they saw none.
"Don't you think the wind is rising a bit, Tayoga?" whispered the
hunter.
"And it doesn't mean rain, because the air's too cold, but it does
mean snow, for which the air is just right, and I think it's coming,
as the clouds grow thicker and thicker all the time."
"Which proves that we are favored. Tododaho from his great and shining
star, that we cannot see tonight, looks down upon us and will help us,
since we have tried to do the things that are right. We wish the snow
to come, because we wish a veil about us, while we confound our
enemies, and Tododaho will send it."
He spoke devoutly and Robert admired and respected his faith, the
center of which was Manitou, and Manitou in the mind of the Christian
boy was the same as God. He also shared the faith of Tayoga that
Tododaho would wrap the snow like a white robe about them to hide them
from their enemies. Meanwhile the three crept slowly toward the fire,
and Robert felt something damp brush his face. It was the first flake
of snow, and Tododaho, on his shining star, was keeping his unspoken
promise.
Tayoga looked up toward the point in the heavens where the great
chief's star shone on clear nights, and, even in the dark, Robert saw
the spiritual exaltation on his face. The Onondaga never doubted for
an instant. The mighty chief who had gone away four centuries ago had
answered the prayer made to him by one of his loyal children, and was
sending the snow that it might be a veil before them while they
destroyed the camp of their enemies. The soul of Tayoga leaped
up. They had received a sign. They were in the care of Tododaho and
they could not fail.
Another flake fell on Robert's face and a third followed, and then
they came down in a white and gentle stream that soon covered him,
Willet and Tayoga and hung like a curtain before them. He looked back
toward the fort, but the veil there also hung between and he could not
see it. Then he looked again, and the dim fire had disappeared in the
white mist.
"Will it keep their huts and lodges from burning?" he whispered to
the hunter.
"If we get a fire started well," he said, "the snow will seem to feed
it rather than put it out. It's going to help us in more ways than
one, too. I'd expected that we'd have to use flint and steel to touch
off our blaze, but as they're likely to leave their own fire and seek
shelter, maybe we can get a torch there. Now, you two boys keep close
to me and we'll approach that fire, or the place where it was."
They continued a cautious advance, their moccasins making no sound in
the soft snow, all objects invisible at a distance of twelve or
fifteen feet. Yet they saw one Indian warrior on watch, although he
did not see or hear them. He was under the boughs of a small tree and
was crouched against the trunk, protecting himself as well as he could
from the tumbling flakes. He was a Huron, a capable warrior with his
five senses developed well, and in normal times he was ambitious and
eager for distinction in his wilderness world, but just now he did not
dream that any one from the fort could be near. So the three passed
him, unsuspected, and drew close to the fire, which now showed as a
white glow through the dusk, sufficient proof that it was still
burning. Further progress proved that the warriors had abandoned it
for shelter, and they left the next task to Tayoga.
The Onondaga lay down in the snow and crept forward until he reached
the fire, where he paused and waited two or three minutes to see that
his presence was not detected. Then he took three burning sticks and
passed them back swiftly to his comrades. Willet had already discerned
the outline of a bark hut on his right and Robert had made out another
on his left. Just beyond were skin tepees. They must now act quickly,
and each went upon his chosen way.
Robert approached the hut on the left from the rear, and applied the
torch to the wall which was made of dry and seasoned bark. Despite the
snow, it ignited at once and burned with extraordinary speed. The
roar of flames from the right showed that the hunter had done as well,
and a light flash among the skin tepees was proof that Tayoga was not
behind them.
The besieging force was taken completely by surprise. The three had
imitated to perfection the classic example of Scipio's soldiers in the
Carthaginian camp. The confusion was terrible as French and Indians
rushed for their lives from the burning huts and lodges into the
blinding snow, where they saw little, and, for the present, understood
less. Tayoga who, in the white dusk readily passed for one of their
own, slipped here and there, continually setting new fires, traveling
in a circle about the fort, while Robert and Willet kept near him, but
on the inner side of the circle and well behind the veil of snow.
The huts and lodges burned fiercely. Where they stood thickest each
became a lofty pyramid of fire and then blended into a mighty mass of
flames, forming an intense red core in the white cloud of falling
snow. French soldiers and Indian warriors ran about, seeking to save
their arms, ammunition and stores, but they were not always
successful. Several explosions showed that the flames had reached
powder, and Robert laughed to himself in pleasure. The destruction of
their powder was a better result than he had hoped or foreseen.
The hunter uttered a low whistle and Tayoga throwing down his torch,
at once joined him and Robert who had already cast theirs far from
them.
"Back to the fort!" said Willet. "We've already done 'em damage they
can't repair in a long time, and maybe we've broken up their camp for
the winter! What a godsend the snow was!"
"It was Tododaho who sent it," said Tayoga, reverently. "They almost
make a red ring around our fort. We have succeeded because the mighty
chief, the founder of the great League of the Hodenosaunee, who went
away to his star four centuries ago, willed for us to succeed. How
splendidly the fires burn! Not a hut, not a lodge will be left!"
"And it's time for us to be going," said the hunter. "Men like De
Courcelles, Jumonville and Tandakora will soon bring order out of all
that tumult, and they'll be looking for those who set the torch. The
snow is coming down heavier and heavier and it hides our flight,
although it is not able to put out the fires. You're right, Tayoga,
about Tododaho pouring his favor upon us."
It was easy for the three to regain the palisade, and they were not
afraid of mistaken bullets fired at them for enemies, since Colden and
Wilton had warned the soldiers that they might expect the return of
the three. Tododaho continued to watch over, them as they reached the
palisade, at the point where the young Philadelphia captain himself
stood upon the raised plank behind it.
"Captain Colden! Captain Colden!" called Willet through the white
cloud.
"Is it you, Mr. Willet?" exclaimed Colden. "Thank God you've
come. I've been in great fear for you! I knew that you had set the
fires, because my own eyes tell me so, but I didn't know what had
become of you."
"All right and rejoicing that we have done even more than we hoped to
do," said Tayoga, in his measured and scholastic English.
The three, coated with snow until they looked like white bears,
quickly scaled the wall, and received the joyous welcome, given to
those who have done a great deed, and who return unhurt to their
comrades. Colden, Wilton and Carson shook their hands again and again
and Robert knew that it was due as much to pleasure at the return as
at the destruction of the besieging camp.
The entire population of Fort Refuge was at the palisade, heedless of
the snow, watching the burning huts and lodges. There was no wind, but
cinders and ashes fell near them, to be covered quickly with white.
Fierce yells now came from the forest and arrows and bullets were
fired at the fort, but they were harmless and the defenders did not
reply.
The flames began to decline by and by, then they sank fast, and after
a while the snow which still came down as if it meant never to stop
covered everything. The circling white wall enveloped the stronghold
completely, and Robert knew that the disaster to the French and
Indians had been overwhelming. Probably all of them had saved their
lives, but they had lost ammunition--the explosions had told him
that--much of their stores, and doubtless all of their food. They
would have to withdraw, for the present at least.
Robert felt immense exultation. They had struck a great blow, and it
was he who had suggested the plan. His pride increased, although he
hid it, when Willet put his large hand on his shoulder and said:
"'Twas well done, Robert, my lad, and 'twould not have been done at
all had it not been for you. Your mind bred the idea, from which the
action flowed."
"And you think the French and Indians have gone away now?"
"Surely, lad! Surely! Indians can stand a lot, and so can French, but
neither can stand still in the middle of a snow that bids fair to be
two feet deep and live. They may have to travel until they reach some
Indian village farther west and north."
"Such being the case, there can be no pressing need for me just at
present, and I think I shall sleep. I feel now as if I were bound to
relax."
"The best thing you could do, and I'll take a turn between the
blankets myself."
Robert had a great sleep. Some of the rooms in the blockhouse offered
a high degree of frontier comfort, and he lay down upon a soft couch
of skins. A fine fire blazing upon a stone hearth dried his deerskin
garments, and, when he awoke about noon, he was strong and thoroughly
refreshed. The snow was still falling heavily. The wilderness in its
white blanket was beautiful, but it did not look like a possible home
to Robert now. His vivid imagination leaped up at once and pictured
the difficulties of any one struggling for life, even in that vast
white silence.
Willet and Tayoga were up before him, and they were talking of another
expedition to see how far the besieging force had gone, but while they
were discussing it a figure appeared at the edge of the forest.
"It's a white man," exclaimed Wilton, "and so it must be one of the
Frenchmen. He's a bold fellow walking directly within our range. What
on earth can he want?"
One of the guards on the palisade raised his rifle, but Willet
promptly pushed down the muzzle.
"He's clothed in white, as any one walking in this snow is bound to
be, but I could tell at the first glimpse that it was none other than
our friend, Black Rifle."
"Coming to us for refuge, and so our fort is well named."
"Not for refuge. Black Rifle has taken care of himself too long in the
wilderness to be at a loss at any time. I suspect that he has
something of importance to tell us or he would not come at all."
At the command of Colden the great gate was thrown open that the
strange rover might enter in all honor, and as he came in, apparently
oblivious of the storm, his eyes gleamed a little at the sight of
Willet, his friend.
"You've come to tell us something," said the hunter.
"Brush off the snow, warm yourself by the fire, and then we'll
listen."
"I can tell it now. I don't mind the snow. I saw from a distance the
great fire last night, when the camp of the French and Indians
burned. It was clever to destroy their huts and lodges, and I knew at
once who did it. Such a thing as that could not have happened without
you having a hand in it, Dave Willet. I watched to see what the
French and Indians would do, and I followed them in their hurried
retreat into the north. I hid in the snowy bushes, and heard some of
their talk, too. They will not stop until they reach a village a full
hundred miles from here. The Frenchmen, De Courcelles and Jumonville
are mad with anger and disappointment, and so is the Indian chief
Tandakora."
"And well they may be!" jubilantly exclaimed Captain Colden, off whose
mind a great weight seemed to have slid. "It was splendid tactics to
burn their home over their heads. I wouldn't have thought of it
myself, but since others have thought of it, and, it has succeeded so
admirably, we can now do the work we were sent here to do."
Tayoga and Willet made snow-shoes and went out on them a few days
later, confirming the report of Black Rifle. Then small parties were
sent forth to search the forest for settlers and their families. Robert
had a large share in this work, and sometimes he looked upon terrible
things. In more than one place, torch and tomahawk had already done
their dreadful work, but in others they found the people alive and
well, still clinging to their homes. It was often difficult, even in
the face of imminent danger, to persuade them to leave, and when they
finally went, under mild compulsion, it was with the resolve to return
to their log cabins in the spring.
Fort Refuge now deserved its name. There were many axes, with plenty
of strong and skillful arms to wield them, and new buildings were
erected within the palisade, the smoke rising from a half dozen
chimneys. They were rude structures, but the people who occupied
them, used all their lives to hardships, did not ask much, and they
seemed snug and comfortable enough to them. Fires always blazed on the
broad stone hearths and the voices of children were heard within the
log walls. The hands of women furnished the rooms, and made new
clothes of deerskin.
The note of life at Fort Refuge was comfort and good cheer. They felt
that they could hold the little fortress against any force that might
come. The hunters, Willet, Tayoga and Black Rifle at their head,
brought in an abundance of game. There was no ill health. The little
children grew mightily, and, thus thrown together in a group, they had
the happiest time they had ever known. Robert was their hero. No other
could tell such glorious tales. He had read fairy stories at Albany,
and he not only brought them all from the store of his memory but he
embroidered and enlarged them. He had a manner with him, too. His
musical, golden voice, his vivid eyes and his intense earnestness of
tone, the same that had impressed so greatly the fifty sachems in the
vale of Onondaga, carried conviction. If one telling a tale believed
in it so thoroughly himself then those who heard it must believe in it
too.
Robert fulfilled a great mission. He was not the orator, the golden
mouthed, for nothing. If the winter came down a little too fiercely,
his vivid eyes and gay voice were sufficient to lift the
depression. Even the somber face of Black Rifle would light up when he
came near. Nor was the young Quaker, Wilton, far behind him. He was a
spontaneously happy youth, always bubbling with good nature, and he
formed an able second for Lennox.
"Will," said Robert, "I believe it actually gives you joy to be here
in this log fortress in the snow and wilderness. You do not miss the
great capital, Philadelphia, to which you have been used all your
life."
"No, I don't, Robert. I like Fort Refuge, because I'm free from
restraints. It's the first time my true nature has had a chance to
come out, and I'm making the most of the opportunity. Oh, I'm
developing! In the spring you'll see me the gayest and most reckless
blade that ever came into the forest."
The deep snow lasted a long time. More snowshoes were made, but only
six or eight of the soldiers learned to use them well. There were
sufficient, however, as Willet, Robert, Tayoga and Black Rifle were
already adepts, and they ranged the forest far in all directions. They
saw no further sign of French or Indians, but they steadily increased
their supply of game.
Christmas came, January passed and then the big snow began to
melt. New stirrings entered Robert's mind. He felt that their work at
Fort Refuge was done. They had gathered into it all the outlying
settlers who could be reached, and Colden, Wilton and Carson were now
entirely competent to guard it and hold it. Robert felt that he and
Willet should return to Albany, and get into the main current of the
great war. Tayoga, of course, would go with them.
He talked it over with Willet and Tayoga, and they agreed with him at
once. Black Rifle also decided to depart about the same time, and
Colden, although grieved to see them go, could say nothing against it.
When the four left they received an ovation that would have warmed the
heart of any man. As they stood at the edge of the forest with their
packs on their backs, Captain Colden gave a sharp command. Sixty
rifles turned their muzzles upward, and sixty fingers pulled sixty
triggers. Sixty weapons roared as one, and the four with dew in their
eyes, lifted their caps to the splendid salute. Then a long, shrill
cheer followed. Every child in the fort had been lifted above the
palisade, and they sent the best wishes of their hearts with those who
were going.
"That cheer of the little ones was mostly for you, Robert," said
Willet, when the forest hid them.
"It was for all of us equally," said Robert modestly.
"No, I'm right and it must help us to have the good wishes of little
children go with us. If they and Tododaho watch over us we can't come
to much harm."
"It is a good omen," said Tayoga soberly. "When I lie down to sleep
tonight I shall hear their voices in my ear."
Black Rifle now left them, going on one of his solitary expeditions
into the wilderness and the others traveled diligently all the day,
but owing to the condition of the earth did not make their usual
progress. Most of the snow had melted and everything was dripping
with water. It fell from every bough and twig, and in every ravine and
gully a rivulet was running, while ponds stood in every
depression. Many swollen brooks and creeks had to be forded, and when
night came they were wet and soaked to the waist.
But Tayoga then achieved a great triumph. In the face of difficulties
that seemed insuperable, he coaxed a fire in the lee of a hill, and
the three fed it, until it threw out a great circle of heat in which
they warmed and dried themselves. When they had eaten and rested a
long time they put out the fire, waited for the coals and ashes to
cool, and then spread over them their blankets, thus securing a dry
base upon which to sleep. They were so thoroughly exhausted, and they
were so sure that the forest contained no hostile presence that all
three went to sleep at the same time and remained buried in slumber
throughout the night.
Tayoga was the first to awake, and he saw the dawn of a new winter
day, the earth reeking with cold damp and the thawing snow. He
unrolled himself from his blankets and arose a little stiffly, but
with a few movements of the limbs all his flexibility returned. The
air was chill and the scene in the black forest of winter was
desolate, but Tayoga was happy. Tododaho on his great shining star had
watched over him and showered him with favors, and he had no doubt
that he would remain under the protection of the mighty chief who had
gone away so long ago.
Tayoga looked down at his comrades, who still slept soundly, and
smiled. The three were bound together by powerful ties, and the events
of recent months had made them stronger than ever. In the school at
Albany he had absorbed much of the white man's education, and, while
his Indian nature remained unchanged, he understood also the white
point of view. He could meet both Robert and Willet on common ground,
and theirs was a friendship that could not be severed.
Now he made a circle about their camp, and, being assured that no
enemy was near, came back to the point where Robert and Willet yet
slept. Then he took his flint and steel, and, withdrawing a little,
kindled a fire, doing so as quietly as he could, in order that the two
awaking might have a pleasant surprise. When the little flames were
licking the wood, and the sparks began to fly upwards, he shook Robert
by the shoulder.
"Arise, sluggard," he said. "Did not our teacher in Albany tell us it
was proof of a lazy nature to sleep while the sun was rising? The fire
even has grown impatient and has lighted itself while you abode with
Tarenyawagon (the sender of dreams). Get up and cook our breakfast,
Oh, Heavy Head!"
Robert sat up and so did Willet. Then Robert drew his blankets about
his body and lay down again.
"You've done so well with the fire, Tayoga, and you've shown such a
spirit," he said, "that it would be a pity to interfere with your
activity. Go ahead, and awake me again when breakfast is ready."
Tayoga made a rush, seized the edge of his blanket and unrolled it,
depositing Robert in the ashes. Then he darted away among the bushes,
avoiding the white youth's pursuit. Willet meanwhile warmed himself by
the fire and laughed.
"Come back, you two," he said. "You think you're little lads again at
your school in Albany, but you're not. You're here in the wilderness,
confronted by many difficulties, all of which you can overcome, and
subject to many perils, all of which you know how to avoid."
"I'll come," said Robert, "if you promise to protect me from this
fierce Onondaga chief who is trying to secure my scalp."
"Tayoga, return to the fire and cook these strips of venison. Here is
the sharp stick left from last night. Robert, take our canteens, find
a spring and fill them with fresh water. By right of seniority I'm in
command this morning, and I intend to subject my army to extremely
severe discipline, because it's good for it. Obey at once!"
Tayoga obediently took the sharpened stick and began to fry strips of
venison. Robert, the canteens over his shoulder, found a spring near
by and refilled them. Like Tayoga, the raw chill of the morning and
the desolate forest of winter had no effect upon him. He too, was
happy, uplifted, and he sang to himself the song he had heard De
Galissonniere sing:
"Hier sur le pont d'Avignon
J'ai oui chanter la belle,
Lon, la,
J'ai oui chanter la belle,
Elle chantait d'un ton si doux
Comme une demoiselle,
Lon, la,
Comme une demoiselle."
All that seemed far away now, yet the words of the song brought it
back, and his extraordinary imagination made the scenes at Bigot's
ball pass before his eyes again, almost as vivid as reality. Once more
he saw the Intendant, his portly figure swaying in the dance, his red
face beaming, and once more he beheld the fiery duel in the garden
when the hunter dealt with Boucher, the bully and bravo.
Quebec was far away. He had been glad to go to it, and he had been
glad to come away, too. He would be glad to go to it again, and he
felt that he would do so some day, though the torrent of battle now
rolled between. He was still humming the air when he came back to the
fire, and saluting Willet politely, tendered a canteen each to him and
Tayoga.
"Sir David Willet, baronet and general," he said, "I have the honor to
report to you that in accordance with your command I have found the
water, spring water, fine, fresh, pure, as good as any the northern
wilderness can furnish, and that is the best in the world. Shall I
tender it to you, sir, on my bended knee!"
"No, Mr. Lennox, we can dispense with the bended knee, but I am glad,
young sir, to note in your voice the tone of deep respect for your
elders which sometimes and sadly is lacking."
"If Dagaeoga works well, and always does as he is bidden," said
Tayoga, "perhaps I'll let him look on at the ceremonies when I take my
place as one of the fifteen sachems of the Onondaga nation."
While they ate their venison and some bread they had also brought with
them, they discussed the next stage of their journey, and Tayoga made
a suggestion. Traveling would remain difficult for several days, and
instead of going directly to Albany, their original purpose, they
might take a canoe, and visit Mount Johnson, the seat of Colonel
William Johnson, who was such a power with the Hodenosaunee, and who
was in his person a center of important affairs in North America. For
a while, Mount Johnson might, in truth, suit their purpose better than
Albany.
The idea appealed at once to both Robert and Willet. Colonel Johnson,
more than any one else could tell them what to do, and owing to his
strong alliance, marital and otherwise, with the Mohawks, they were
likely to find chiefs of the Ganeagaono at his house or in the
neighborhood.
"It is agreed," said Willet, after a brief discussion. "If my
calculations be correct we can reach Mount Johnson in four days, and I
don't think we're likely to cross the trail of an enemy, unless
St. Luc is making some daring expedition."
"In any event, he's a nobler foe than De Courcelles or Jumonville,"
said Robert.
"I grant you that, readily," said the hunter. "Still, I don't think
we're likely to encounter him on our way to Mount Johnson."
But on the second day they did cross a trail which they attributed to
a hostile force. It contained, however, no white footsteps, and not
pausing to investigate, they continued their course toward their
destination. As all the snow was now gone, and the earth was drying
fast, they were able almost to double their speed and they pressed
forward, eager to see the celebrated Colonel William Johnson, who was
now filling and who was destined to fill for so long a time so large a
place in the affairs of North America.