Part 75 (1/2)
”Major Parr is of the same opinion; Clinton sees the importance of this, having had the sense to learn of Amherst how to stop the Seneca demons with a stout hempen rope. Two Sachems he hung, and the whole nation cowed down in terror of him while his authority remained.
”But Amherst left us; and the yelps of the Toad-Woman aroused the Sorcerers from their torpor. But I swear to you by St. Catharine, who is the saint of the Iroquois also, that the sway of Amochol shall end, and that he shall lie on his own b.l.o.o.d.y altar, nor die there before he sees the flames of Catharines-town touch the very heaven of an affronted G.o.d!”
”Can you do this?”
”With G.o.d's help and General Sullivan's,” I said cheerfully. ”For I daily pray to the One, and I have the promise of the other that before our marching army alarms Catharines-town, I and my Indians and Boyd and his riflemen shall strike the Red Priest there at the Onon-hou-aroria.”
”What is that, Euan?”
”Their devil-rites--an honest feast which they have perverted. It was the Dream Feast, Lois, but Amochol has made of it an orgy unspeakable, where human sacrifices are offered to the Moon Witch, Atensi, and to Les.h.i.+ and the Stone-Throwers, and the Little People--many of which were not goblins and ghouls until Amochol so decreed them.”
”When is this feast to be held in Catharines-town?”
”On the last day of this month. Until then you must not leave this camp; and after the army marches you must not go outside this fort.
Amochol's arm is long. His acolytes are watching. And now I think you understand at last.”
She nodded. Presently she rested her pale cheek on her arms and looked at the reddening edges of the woods. Northwest lay Catharines-town, so Mayaro said. And into the northwest her grey eyes now gazed, calmly and steadily, while the sun went out behind the forest and the high heavens were plumed with fire.
Under us the river ran, all pink and primrose, save where deep, gla.s.sy shadows bounded it under either bank. The tips of the trees glowed with rosy flame, faded to ashes, then, burnt out, stood once more dark and serrated against the evening sky.
Suddenly an unearthly cry rang out from somewhere close to the river bank up stream. Instantly a sentry on the parapet near us fired his piece.
”Oh, G.o.d! What is it!” faltered Lois, grasping my arm. But I sprang for the ladder and ran down it; and the scattered soldiers and officers below on the parade were already running some grasping their muskets, others drawing pistols and hangers.
We could hear musketry firing ahead, and drums beating to arms in our camp behind us.
”The cattle-guard!” panted an officer at my elbow as we ran up stream along the river-bank. ”The Senecas have made their kill again, G.o.d curse them!”
It was so. Out of the woods came running our frightened cattle, with the guard plodding heavily on their flanks; and in the rear two of our soldiers urged them on with kicks and blow; two more retreated backward, facing the dusky forest with levelled muskets, and a third staggered beside them, half carrying, half trailing a man whose head hung down crimsoning the leaves as it dragged over them.
He had been smoking a cob pipe when the silent a.s.sa.s.sin's hatchet struck him, and the pipe now remained clenched between his set teeth.
At first, for the dead leaves stuck to him, we could not see that he had been scalped, but when we turned him over the loose and horrible features, all wrinkled where the severed brow-muscles had released the skin, left us in no doubt.
”This man never uttered that abominable cry,” I said, shuddering. ”Is there yet another missing from the guard?”
”Oh, no, sir,” said the soldier who had dragged him. ”That there was a heifer bawling when them devils cut her throat.”
He stood scratching his head and gazing blankly down at his dead comrade.
”Jesus,” he drawled. ”What be I a-goin' for to tell his woman now?”
CHAPTER XVI
LANA HELMER
Our Sunday morning gun had scarce been fired when from up the river came the answering thunder of artillery. Thirteen times did the distant cannon bellow their salute, announcing Clinton's advance, our camp swarmed like an excited hive, mounted officers galloping, foot officers running, troops tumbling out as the drums rattled the ”general” in every regimental bivouac.
Colonel Proctor's artillery band marched out toward the landing place as I entered No. 2 Block-House and ran up the ladder, and I heard the ford-guard hurrahing and the garrison troops on the unfinished parapets answering them with cheer after cheer.
At my loud rapping on the flooring, Lois opened the trap for me, her lovely, youthful features flushed with excitement; Lana, behind her, beckoned me; and I sprang up into the loft and paid my duty to them both.
”What a n.o.ble earthquake of artillery up the river!” said Lois. ”Butler has no cannon, has he?”