Part 14 (1/2)
The afternoon was waning fast. The sun was setting in an ocean of fire that turned the blue line of the mountains in the east to red. The slope of the land made the current of the river much swifter, and Robert and Willet drew in their paddles, leaving the work to Tayoga alone, who sat in the prow and guided their light craft with occasional strokes, letting the stream do the rest.
There was no more expert canoeman than Tayoga in the whole northern wilderness. A single sweep of his paddle would send the canoe to any point he wished, and apparently it was made without effort. There was no shortening of the breath nor any sudden and violent movement of his figure. It was all as smooth and easy as the flowing of the water itself. It seemed that Tayoga was doing nothing, and that the canoe once more was alive, the master of its own course.
The ocean of fire faded into a sea of gray, and then black night came, but the canoe sped on in the swift current toward the St. Lawrence. It was still the wilderness. The green forest on either side of the stream was unbroken. No smoke from a settler's chimney trailed across the sky.
It was the forest as the Indian had known it for centuries. Robert, sitting in the center of the canoe, quit dreaming of great cities and came back to his own time and place. He felt the majesty of all that surrounded him, but he was not lonely, nor was he oppressed. Instead, the night, the great forest, the swift river and the gliding canoe appealed to his sensitive and highly imaginative mind. He was uplifted and he felt the confidence and elation that contribute so much to success.
It was characteristic of the three, so diverse in type, and yet knitted so closely together in friends.h.i.+p, that they would talk much at times and at other times have silence long and complete. Now, neither spoke for at least three hours. Tayoga, in the prow, made occasional strokes of his paddle, but the current remained swift and the speed of the canoe was not slackened. The young Onondaga devoted most of his time to watching. Much wreckage from storms or the suction of flood water often floated on the surface of these wild rivers, and his keen eyes searched for trunk or bough or snag. They also scanned at intervals the green walls speeding by on either side, lest they might pa.s.s some camp fire and not notice it, but finding no lighter note in the darkness he felt sure that no hostile bands were near.
About midnight the force of the current began to abate and Robert and Willet used the paddles. The darkness also thinned. The rainless clouds drifted away and disclosed a full moon, which turned the dusk of the water to silver. The stars came out in cl.u.s.ter after cl.u.s.ter and the skies became a s.h.i.+ning blue. The wilderness revealed itself in another and splendid phase, and Robert saw and admired.
”How long will we go on, Dave?” The words were his and they were the first to break the long silence.
”Until nearly daylight,” replied Willet. ”Then we can land, take the canoe into the bushes and rest. What do you say, Tayoga?”
”It is good,” replied the Onondaga. ”We are not weary, because the river, of its own accord, has borne us on its bosom, but we must sleep.
We would not wish to appear heavy of eye and mind before the children of Onontio.”
”Well spoken, Tayoga,” said the hunter. ”An Iroquois chief knows that appearance and dignity count, and you were right to remind us of it. I think that by the next sunset we'll be meeting French, not the Canadian French that they call _habitants_, but outposts made up mostly of officers and soldiers from France. They'll be very curious about us, naturally so, and since your new friend Dayohogo has announced that you are a great orator, you can do most of the talking and explaining, Robert.”
”I'll talk my best,” replied young Lennox. ”n.o.body can do more.”
As agreed, they drew the canoe into the bushes shortly before daylight, and slept several hours. Then they returned to the river and resumed their journey. By the middle of the afternoon they saw signs of habitation, or at least of the presence of human beings. They beheld two smokes on the right bank, and one on the left, trailing black lines against the blue of the sky, but they were all far away, and they did not care to stop and determine their origin.
Shortly before sunset they saw a camp fire, very close on the eastern sh.o.r.e, and as they drew near the figures of men in uniform were visible against the red glow.
”I think we'd better draw in here,” said Robert. ”This is undoubtedly an outpost, and, likely, an officer of some importance is in charge. Ours is a mission of peace, and we want to placate as many people as we can, as we go.”
”It is so,” said Tayoga, making a sweep or two of the paddle, and sending the canoe in a diagonal line toward the designated sh.o.r.e.
Two men in blue uniforms with white facings walked to the edge of the water and looked at them with curiosity. Robert gave them a gaze as inquiring as their own, and after the habit of the forest, noted them carefully. He took them to be French of France. One was about forty years of age, rather tall, built well, his face browned by forest life.
He had black, piercing eyes and a strong hooked nose. A man of resolution but cold of heart, Robert said to himself. The other, a little smaller, and a little younger, was of much the same type. The uniforms of both were fine and neat, and they bore themselves as officers of importance. Like St. Luc, they fortified Robert's opinion of what he was going to find at Quebec.
Neither of the men spoke until the canoe touched the sh.o.r.e, and its three occupants sprang out. Then they bowed politely, though Robert fancied that he saw a trace of irony in their manner, and the elder said in good English:
”Good evening, gentlemen.”
”Good evening, Messieurs,” said Robert, remembering that he was to be spokesman. ”We are English.”
”I can see readily that two of you are.”
”The third, Tayoga, the son of a great Onondaga chief, is English also at heart.”
The lips of the Frenchman curled ever so little. Robert saw at once that he challenged his a.s.sertion about Tayoga, but he did not seem to notice it, as he expected that his comrades and himself would be guests in the French camp.
”I have mentioned Tayoga,” he said, ”but I will introduce him again. He is of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the great League of the Hodenosaunee. I also present Mr. David Willet, a famous scout and hunter, known to the Indians, and perhaps to some of the French, too, as the Great Bear. My own name is Robert Lennox, of Albany and New York, and I have done nothing that is descriptive of me, but I bear important letters from the Governor of New York to Quebec, to be delivered to the Marquis Duquesne, the Governor General of Canada.”
”That, young sir, is no slight mission,” said the elder man, ”and it is our good fortune to speed you on your way. My friend is the Chevalier Francois de Jumonville, one of France's most gallant officers, and I am Auguste de Courcelles, a colonel by fortune's favor, in the service of His Majesty, King Louis.”
”I am sure,” said Robert, ”that it is not chance or the favor of fortune that has given you such important rank. Your manner and presence are sufficient a.s.surance to me that you have won your rank with your own merits.”