The Shadow of the North: A Story of Old New York and a Lost Campaign by Altsheler (reading rainbow books txt) 📕

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 Galissonnière 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.

Now, a few pleasant days of winter came. The ground dried under comparatively warm winds, and the forest awoke. They heard everywhere the ripple of running water, and wild animals came out of their dens. Tayoga shot a young bear which made a welcome addition to their supplies.

"I hold that there's nothing better in the woods than young bear," said Willet, as he ate a juicy steak Robert had broiled over the coals. "Venison is mighty good, especially so when you're hungry, but you can get tired of it. What say you, Tayoga?"

"It is true," replied the Onondaga. "Fat young bear is very fine. None of us wants one thing all the time, and we want something besides meat, too. The nations of the Hodenosaunee are great and civilized, much ahead of the other red people, because they plant gardens and orchards and fields, and have grain and vegetables, corn, beans, squash and many other things good for the table."

"And the Iroquois, while they grow more particular about the table, remain the most valiant of all the forest people. I see your point, Tayoga. Civilization doesn't take anything from a man's courage and tenacity. Rather it adds to them. There are our enemies, the French, who are as brave and enduring as anybody, and yet they're the best cooks in the world, and more particular about their food than any other nation."

"You always speak of the French with a kind of affection, Dave," said
Robert.

"I suppose I do," said the hunter. "I have reasons."

"As I know now, Dave, you've been in Paris, can't you tell us something about the city?"

"It's the finest town in the world, Robert, and they've the brightest, gayest life there, at least a part of 'em have, but things are not going right at home with the French. They say a whole nation's fortune has been sunk in the palace at Versailles, and the people are growing poorer all the time, but the government hopes to dazzle 'em by waging a successful and brilliant war over here. I repeat, though, Robert, that I like the French. A great nation, sound at the core, splendid soldiers as we're seeing, and as we're likely to see for a long time to come."

They pushed on with all speed toward Mount Johnson, the weather still favoring them, making their last camp in a fine oak grove, and reckoning that they would achieve their journey's end before noon the next day. They did not build any fire that night, but when they rose at dawn they saw the smoke of somebody else's fire on the eastern horizon.

"It couldn't be the enemy," said Willet. "He wouldn't let his smoke go up here for all the world to see, so near to the home of Colonel William Johnson and within the range of the Mohawks."

"That is so," said Tayoga. "It is likely to be some force of Colonel
Johnson himself, and we can advance with certainty."

Looking well to their arms in the possible contingency of a foe, they pushed forward through the woodland, the smoke growing meanwhile as if those who had built the fire either felt sure of friendly territory, or were ready to challenge the world. The Onondaga presently held up a hand and the three stopped.

"What is it, Tayoga?" asked the hunter.

"I wish to sing a song."

"Then sing it, Tayoga."

A bird suddenly gave forth a long, musical, thrilling note. It rose in a series of trills, singularly penetrating, and died away in a haunting echo. A few moments of silence and then from a point in the forest in front of them another bird sang a like song.

"They are friends," said Tayoga, who was the first bird, "and it may be, since we are within the range of the Mohawks, that it is our friend, the great young chief Daganoweda, who replied. I do not think any one else could sing a song so like my own."

"I'm wagering that it's Daganoweda and nobody else," said Willet confidently, and scorning cover now they advanced at increased speed toward the fire.

A splendid figure, tall, heroic, the nose lofty and beaked like that of an ancient Roman, the feather headdress brilliant and defiant like that of Tayoga, came forward to meet them, and Robert saw with intense pleasure that it was none other than Daganoweda himself. Nor was the delight of the young Mohawk chieftain any less—the taciturnity and blank faces of Indians disappeared among their friends—and he came forward, smiling and uttering words of welcome.

"Daganoweda," said Willet, "the sight of you is balm to the eyes. Your name means in our language, 'The Inexhaustible' and you're an inexhaustible friend. You're always appearing when we need you most, and that's the very finest kind of a friend."

"Great Bear, Tayoga and Dagaeoga come out of the great wilderness," said Daganoweda, smiling.

"So we do, Daganoweda. We've been there a long time, but we were not so idle."

"I have heard of the fort that was built in the forest and how the young white soldiers with the help of Great Bear, Tayoga and Dagaeoga beat off the French and the savage tribes."

"I supposed that runners of the Hodenosaunee would keep you informed. Well, the fort is there and our people still hold it, and we are here, anxious to get back into the main stream of big events. Who are at the fire, Daganoweda?"

"Waraiyageh (Colonel William Johnson) himself is there. He was fishing yesterday, it being an idle time for a few days, and with ten of my warriors I joined him last night. He will be glad to see you, Great Bear, whom he knows. And he will be glad to meet Tayoga and Dagaeoga who are to bear great names."

"Easy, Daganoweda, easy!" laughed Willet.

"These are fine lads, but don't flatter 'em too much just yet. They've done brave deeds, but before this war is over they'll have to do a lot more. We'll go with you and meet Colonel Johnson."

As they walked toward the fire a tall, strongly built man, of middle years, dressed in the uniform of an English officer, came forward to meet them. His face, with a distinct Irish cast, was frank, open and resolute.

"Ah, Willet, my friend," he said, extending his hand. "So you and I meet again, and glad I am to hold your fingers in mine once