Part 69 (2/2)
To slay in the heat and fury of combat is one matter; to scar and cripple the tender features of humanity's common mother is a different affair. And I make no doubt that every blow that bit into the laden fruit trees of Chemung stabbed more deeply the men who so mercilessly swung the axes.
Well might the great Cayuga chieftain repeat the terrible prophecy of Toga-na-etah the Beautiful:
”When the White Throats shall come, then, if ye be divided, ye will pull down the Long House, fell the tall Tree of Peace, and quench the Onondaga Fire forever.”
As I stood by the rus.h.i.+ng current of the Thiohero,* on the profaned and desolate threshold of the Dark Empire, I thought of O-cau-nee, the Enchantress, and of Na-wenu the Blessed, and of Hiawatha floating in his white canoe into the far haven where the Master of Life stood waiting.
[*Seneca River.]
And now, for these doomed people of the Kannonsi, but one rite remained to be accomplished. And the solemn thunder of the last drum-roll must summon them to the great Festival of the Dead.
CHAPTER XV
BLOCK-HOUSE NO. 2
On the 14th the army lay supine. There was no news from Otsego. One man fell dead in camp of heart disease. The cattle-guard was fired on. On the 15th a corporal and four privates, while herding our cattle, were fired on, the Senecas killing and scalping one and wounding another. On the 16th came a runner from Clinton with news that the Otsego army was on the march and not very far distant from the Ouleout; and a detachment of eight hundred men, under Brigadier General Poor, was sent forward to meet our Right Wing and escort it back to this camp.
By one of the escort, a drummer lad, I sent a letter directed to Lois, hoping it might be relayed to Otsego and from thence by batteau to Albany. The Oneida runner had brought no letters, much to the disgust of the army, and no despatches except the brief line to our General commanding. The Brigadiers were furious. So also was I that no letters came for me.
On the 17th our soldier-herdsmen were again fired on, and, as before, one poor fellow was killed and partly scalped, and one wounded. The Yellow Moth, Tahoontowhee, and the Grey-Feather went out at night on retaliation bent, but returned with neither trophies nor news, save what we all knew, that the Seneca scouts were now swarming like hornets all around us ready to sting to death anyone who strayed out of bounds.
On the 18th the entire camp lay dull, patiently expectant of Clinton.
He did not come. It rained all night.
On Thursday, the 19th, it still rained steadily, but with no violence--a fine, sweet, refres.h.i.+ng summer shower, made golden and beautiful at intervals by the momentary prophecy of the sun; yet he did not wholly reveal himself, though he smiled through the mist at us in friendly fas.h.i.+on.
I had been out fis.h.i.+ng for trouts very early, the rain making it favourable for such pleasant sport, and my Indians and I had finished a breakfast of corn porridge and the sweet-fleshed fishes that I took from the brook where it falls into the Susquehanna.
It was still very early--near to five o'clock, I think--for the morning gun had not yet bellowed, and the camp lay very still in the gentle and fragrant rain.
A few moments before five I saw a company of Jersey troops march silently down to the river, hang their cartouche-boxes on their bayonets, and ford the stream, one holding to another, and belly deep in the swollen flood.
Thinks I to myself, they are going to protect our cattle-guards; and I turned and walked down to the ford to watch the crossing.
Then I saw why they had crossed: there were some people come down to the landing place on the other bank in two batteaux and an Oneida canoe--soldiers, boatmen, and two women; and our men were fording the river to protect the crossing of this small flotilla.
I seated myself, wondering what foolhardy people these might be, and trying to see more plainly the women in the two batteaux. As the boatmen poled nearer, it seemed to me that some of the people looked marvelously like the riflemen of my own corps; and a few moments later I sprang to my feet astounded, for of the two women in the nearest batteau one was Lois de Contrecoeur and the other Lana Helmer.
Suddenly the Oneida canoe shot out from the farther sh.o.r.e, pa.s.sed both batteaux, paddles flas.h.i.+ng, and came darting toward the landing where I stood. Two riflemen were in it; one rose as the canoe's nose grated on the gravel, cast aside the bow-paddle, balanced himself toward the bow with both hands, and leaped ash.o.r.e, waving at me a gay greeting.
”My G.o.d!” said I excitedly, as Boyd ran lightly up the slope. ”Are you stark mad to bring ladies into this d.a.m.nable place?”
”There are other women, too. Why, even that pretty jade, Dolly Glenn, is coming! What could I do? The General himself permitted it. Miss de Contrecoeur and Lana heard that a number of women were already here, and so come for a frolic they must.”
”Who accompanies them? I see no older woman yonder.”
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