The Hunters of the Hills by Joseph A. Altsheler (phonics story books .txt) 📕

he said, "but I like him. It is not often that one can dine at such an inn, with such a view of mountain, forest and magnificent river. In truth, the French do some things well."

"They surpass us in the matter of inns," said Willet. "They think more about it—and take more trouble. I'm sorry we have to quarrel with the French. They're good people, though they haven't been oversqueamish in the use of savages against us, and they're really responsible for the cruelties done by the painted demons."

He spoke freely of red "savages" before Tayoga, knowing that the young Onondaga would never think of applying the word to himself. Willet had shown too often that he considered the people of the Hodenosaunee the equals of anybody. Then he took their three rifles, laid them together on the grass by the side of a graveled walk and, looking at the vast expanse of mountain, forest and river, drew a deep breath.

"It's not much like fighting for our lives back there in the gorge, is it, Robert?" he asked. "It's a strange world here in America. We're lying in a rocky hollow one day, shooting at people who are shooting at us, and both sides shooting to kill, and two or three days later we're sitting at an inn in a town, eating off silver and china."

"It's a quick and pleasant transformation," said Robert, appreciatively.

He would have called it supper, but in Montreal it was dinner, and it was served by Lizette and Marie. There was fish from the St. Lawrence, chicken, beef, many vegetables, good white bread and coffee, all prepared in the excellent manner characteristic of Monsieur Jolivet's famous inn. Tayoga ate abundantly but delicately. He had learned the use of knife and fork at the school in Albany, and, like Robert, he was fastidious at the table.

Monsieur Jolivet, after his manner, gave them much of his own presence. One must be polite to the Bostonnais at such a time. He discoursed quite freely of Montreal, and of its advantages as a great trading post with the Indians, who already brought there vast quantities of furs. It would become one of the greatest and most brilliant jewels in the French crown, second perhaps only to Paris. But for the present, the chief glory of New France could be seen only at Quebec Ah, when the Bostonnais arrived there they would behold great lords and great ladies!

The three listened, each interested in his own way. Robert's fancy saw the silken splendor of a vice-regal court, and, anxious to know the larger world, he was more glad than ever that he had come upon this errand, dangerous though it had proved to be.

They sat a while after the dinner was over, looking down at the town and the great view beyond, a clear moon and brilliant stars casting a silver light which illuminated almost like the day. They saw lights gleaming in houses, and now and then shadowy figures passing. Out in the river a boat with a mast rocked in the current, and Robert believed it was the Frontenac of Louis de Galisonnière.

As the dusk thickened over the great river, the island, the hills and the forest, Hochelaga seemed very small, and the inn of the excellent Monsieur Jolivet was just a tiny point of light in all that vast darkness. It shone, nevertheless, by contrast, and was a little island of warmth and comfort in the sea of the wilderness. Monsieur Jolivet, who was deeply interested in the Bostonnais and the proud young Iroquois, talked freely. Under his light and chattering manner lay great powers of perception, and he saw that he had guests of quality, each in his own way. The hunter even was not an ordinary hunter, but, as Monsieur Jolivet judged, a man of uncommon intellectual power, and also of education. He would discover as much about them as he could, for his own personal gratification, because he might give valuable information to the commandant at Montreal, who was his friend, and because later on he might speak a useful word or two in the ear of Louis de Galisonnière, whom he knew well and whose good opinion he valued.

Robert, who was in a cheerful mood and who wished to exercise his gift of golden speech, met him half way, and enlarged upon the splendor and power of Britain, the great kingdom that bestrode the Atlantic, seated immovable in Europe, and yet spreading through her colonies in America, increasing and growing mightier all the time. It was soon a test of eloquence between him and Monsieur Jolivet, in which each was seeking to obtain from the other an expression of the opinion that swayed his country. The Onondaga was silent, and the hunter spoke only a word or two, but each listened intently to the dialogue, which, however earnest it might be, never went beyond the bounds of good humor.

"I cannot make you see the truth," said Monsieur Jolivet, at last, smiling and spreading his hands. "I cannot convince you that France is the first of nations, the nation of light and learning and humanity, and yet it is so. And seated here upon the St. Lawrence we shall build up another France, the New France of America, which will shed light upon you English or Bostonnais down below, and teach you the grace and beauty of civilization."

"We should be willing to learn from any who can teach us," said Robert, "and such a willingness I claim is a chief merit of us English who are born in America, or Bostonnais, as you would call us."

Monsieur Jolivet once more spread out his hands in deprecation.

"We argue in vain," he said. "But now Lizette comes with the coffee, which is one of the most glorious triumphs of my inn. Does the young chief drink coffee?"

"Yes," replied Robert, "he learned at Albany all the white man's habits."

After the coffee they rose from the table and mine host prepared to show them to their room. The darkness had thickened meanwhile and glimpses of the river and the hills were faint. The little garden was enclosed by three walls of darkness, being lighted on the side where it joined the inn. Yet Robert thought he saw a shifting figure blacker than the shadows in which it moved.

Marie and Lizette took away the silver and china and Monsieur Jolivet went ahead to show them to their room. Then something whistled in the darkness, and an arrow buried to the head of the barb stood out in the rear wall of the inn. The three seized their rifles, but the darker shadow in the shadows was gone. Tayoga broke off the arrow level with the wall, and threw the shaft into the garden.

"It was Tandakora," he said, "seeking revenge. But since the arrow has sped wrong he will not loose another shaft tonight. If it had not been for his wounded shoulder the arrow might have gone true. It was a treacherous deed, worthy of the savage Ojibway."

"I hope the time will come," said Willet, "when I shall send a bullet not through Tandakora's shoulder, but through his heart. I don't love the shedding of blood, but the forest will be a better forest without him. Meanwhile, say nothing, lads. Monsieur Jolivet is coming back, but don't mention the arrow to him. He may find the head of it later on in the wall, and then he can wonder about it as much as he pleases."

Mine host bustled back. The foul and treacherous attempt, the breaking off of the arrow, and the comment upon it had taken less than a minute, and, good observer though he was, he noticed nothing unusual in the appearance of his guests. They carried their rifles in their hands, but many visitors to Montreal did the same, and as they were beautiful weapons they might well guard against their loss.

"Follow me, my Bostonnais," he said lightly. "I have the great room with three beds for you, and I trust that you have enjoyed the dinner."

"We have enjoyed it greatly, all of it, Monsieur Jolivet, and especially the dessert," replied Robert with meaning.

"Ah, the pastry," said Monsieur Jolivet, clasping his hands. "It is Marie who made it. It is the gift that she has, and I shall tell her of your praise."

But Robert was not thinking of the pastry. It was of the arrow that he spoke as dessert, although the excellent Monsieur Jolivet was destined never to know the hidden significance of his words. The room which he showed them with so much pride was a large apartment worthy of their praise, having a polished, shining floor of oak, with furs spread here and there upon it, and a low ceiling crossed with mighty beams also of oak. Robert looked at the windows, three in number, and he saw with satisfaction that they had heavy shutters. Monsieur Jolivet's glance followed his own, and he said:

"The shutters are for use in the winter, when the great colds come, and the fierce winds rage. But you, messieurs, who live so much in the forest, will, of course, prefer to keep them wide open tonight."

Robert murmured assent, but when Monsieur Jolivet departed, wishing them a polite good night, he looked at his comrades.

"We are used to air," said Willet, "and lots of it, but those shutters will be closed until morning. As Tayoga truly said, he will hardly dare another arrow, but we mustn't take any risk, however small."

Tayoga nodded approval, and drawing the shutters close, they fastened them. Then they undressed and lay down upon their beds, but each prepared to sleep with his rifle beside him.

"The catches on those shutters are good and strong," said Willet, "and Tandakora, even if he should come again, won't try to break them. It wouldn't suit the purposes of the French for a warrior of a tribe allied with them to be caught trying to murder English visitors, and, that being the case, I expect to go to sleep soon and sleep well."

He was as good as his word. Robert, who blew out the candle, soon heard his regular breathing. Tayoga, who was used to rooms, the Iroquois themselves having strong log houses, quickly followed him in slumber, but young Lennox was not able to compose his nerves for a little while. He was perhaps more sensitive and imaginative than his comrades, or the close air may have kept him awake. He could not help feeling that Tandakora was outside trying the fastenings of the shutters, and at last rising, he walked on tiptoe and listened at every window in turn. He heard nothing without but the breathing of the gentle wind, and then, knowing that it had been only his vivid fancy, he went back to bed and slept soundly.

"Wake up, Robert, and breathe this air! After our having been sealed up in a room all night the breeze is heavenly."

The shutters were thrown back, and the hunter and Tayoga, fully dressed, stood by the windows. The air, fresh, life-giving, coming over the great forests and the mighty river, was pouring into the room in streams, and Tayoga and Willet were facing it, in order that they might receive it straight upon their foreheads. Robert joined them, and soon felt as if he had been created anew and stronger.

"I'll never again sleep in a room closed tight and hard," said Willet, "not even to protect my life. I've roamed the free woods for so many years that I think another such experience would make me choke to death."

"I'm not in love with it myself," said Robert, "but it makes the world outside look all the grander and all the more beautiful."

At their wish breakfast was served for them by Monsieur Jolivet in the garden, Willet insisting that for the present he could not stay any longer in a house. Robert from his seat could see the end of the broken barb embedded in the wall, but neither mine host nor any of his assistants had yet noticed it.

Monsieur Jolivet was pleased that they should have such a brilliant day to begin their journey to Quebec, and he was telling them where they could sell their canoe and buy a good boat when Louis de Galisonnière appeared in the garden and presented them the compliments of the morning. He looked so trim and so gay that he brought with him a cheerful breeze, and the three felt the effect of it, although they wondered at the nature of his errand there. Robert invited him to join them at breakfast and he accepted their invitation, taking