The Masters of the Peaks: A Story of the Great North Woods by Joseph A. Altsheler (best value ebook reader .txt) 📕

know that to do the hard thing strengthens both mind and body? Has he forgotten what Mynheer Jacobus Huysman told us so often in Albany? Now is a splendid opportunity for Dagaeoga to harden himself a great deal."

"I realize it, Tayoga, but I don't want my mind and body to grow too hard. When one is all steel one ceases to be receptive. Can you see the river through the trees there?"

"I catch the glitter of sunlight on the water."

"I hope it looks like deep water."

"It is sufficient to float the canoe and the lazy Dagaeoga can take to his paddle again."

They put their boat back into the stream, uttering great sighs of relief, and resumed the far more pleasant travel by water, the day remaining golden as if doing its best to please them. They had another long stretch of good water, and they did not stop until they were well into the afternoon. Then Tayoga proposed that they make a fire and cook all of the deer.

"It seems that the risk here is not great," he said, "and we may not have the chance later on."

Robert, who still felt that they were protected and that for a day or two no harm could come to them under any circumstances, was more than willing, and they spent the remainder of the day in their culinary task. After dark he slept three hours, to be followed by Tayoga for the same length of time, and about midnight they started up the stream again, with their food cooked and ready beside them.

Although the Onondaga shared Robert's feeling that they were protected for the time, both exercised all their usual caution, believing thoroughly in the old saying that heaven helps those who help themselves. It was this watchfulness, particularly of ear, that caused them to hear the dip of paddles approaching up the stream. Softly and in silence, they lifted the canoe out of water and hid with it in the greenwood. Then they saw a fleet of eight large canoes go by, all containing warriors, armed heavily and in full war paint.

"Hurons," whispered Tayoga. "They go south for a great taking of scalps, doubtless to join Montcalm, who is surely meditating another sudden and terrible blow."

"And he will strike at our forts by Andiatarocte," rejoined Robert. "I hope we can find Willet and Rogers soon and take the news. All the woods must be full of warriors going south to Montcalm."

"They have French guns, and good ones too, and they are wrapped in French blankets. Onontio does not forget the power of the warriors and draws them to him."

The silent file of war canoes passed on and out of sight, and, for a space, Robert's heart was heavy within him. He felt the call of battle, he ought to be in the south, giving what he could to the defense against the might of Montcalm, but to go now would be merely a dash in the dark. They must continue to seek Willet and Rogers.

When the last Indian canoe was far beyond hearing they relaunched their own and paddled until nearly daybreak, coming to a place where bushes and tall grass grew thick in the shallow water at the edge of the river.

"Here," said Tayoga, "we will leave the canoe. A good hiding place offers itself, and with the dawn it will be time for us to take to the woods."

They concealed with great art the little boat that had served them so well, sinking it in the heart of the densest growth and then drawing back the bushes and weeds so skillfully that the keenest Indian eye would not have noticed that anyone had ever been there.

"I hope," said Robert sincerely, "that we'll have the chance to return here some time or other and use it again."

"That rests in the keeping of Manitou," said the Onondaga, "and now we will take up our packs and go eastward toward Oneadatote."

"But we won't go fast, because my pack, with all this venison in it, is by no means light."

"It is no heavier than mine, Dagaeoga, but, as you say, we will not hasten, lest we pass the Great Bear and the Mountain Wolf in the forest and not know it. But I think we are safe in going toward Oneadatote, as Rogers and his rangers usually operate in the region of George and Champlain."

They traveled two days and two nights and came once more among the high ridges and peaks. They saw many Indian trails and always they watched for another. On the third day Tayoga discovered traces in moss and he said with great satisfaction to his comrade:

"Lo, Dagaeoga, we, too, be wise in our time. The print here speaks to me like the print on the page of a book. It says that the Great Bear has passed this way."

"I can tell that the traces were made by the feet of a white man," said Robert, "but how do you know they are Dave's?"

"I have noticed that the Great Bear's feet are more slender than the average. Also he bears less upon the heel. He poises himself more upon the toe, like the great swordsman we saw him to be that time in Quebec."

"The distinctions are too fine for me, Tayoga, but I don't question your own powers of observation. I accept your statement with gratitude and joy, too, because now we know that Dave is alive, and somewhere in the great northern forest of the Province of New York. I knew he could not be dead, but it's a relief anyhow to have the proof. But as I see no other traces, how is it, do you think, that he happens to be alone?"

"The Great Bear may have been making a little scout by himself. I still think that he is with Rogers and the rangers, and when we follow his trail we are likely to find soon that he has rejoined them."

The traces led north and east until they came to rocky ground, where they were lost, and Tayoga assumed from the fact that they were several days old, otherwise he could have made them out even in the more difficult region. But when the path, despite all his searching, vanished in the air, he began to look higher than the earth. Soon he smiled and said:

"Ah, the Great Bear is as wise as the fox and the serpent combined. He knows that a little chance may lead to great results, and so he neglects none of the little chances."

"I don't understand you," said Robert, puzzled.

The Onondaga bent over a bush and showed where a twig had been cut off.

"See the wound made by his knife," he said, "and look! here is another on a bush farther on. Both wounds are partly healed, showing that the cut of the knife was made several days ago. It occurred to the Great Bear that we might strike his trail some time or other, and when he came to the stony uplift upon which his moccasins would leave no sign, he made traces elsewhere. He knew the chance of our ever seeing them was slight, and he may have made thousands of other traces that we never will see, but the possibility that we would see some one of the many became a probability."

"As you present it, it seems simple, Tayoga, but what an infinity of pains he must have taken!"

"The Great Bear is that kind of a man."

The hard, rocky ground extended several miles and their progress over it was, of necessity, very slow, as Tayoga was compelled to look with extreme care for the signs the hunter might have left. He found the cut twigs five times and twice footprints where softer soil existed between the rocks, making the proofs conclusive to both, and when they emerged into a normal region beyond they picked up his defined and clear trail once more.

"I shall be glad to see the Great Bear," said the Onondaga, "and I think he will be as pleased to know certainly that we are alive as we are to be assured that he is."

"He'd never desert us, and if you hadn't come to the Indian village I think he'd have done so later on."

"The Great Bear is a man such as few men are. Now, his trail leads on, straight and bold. He took no trouble to hide it, which proves that he had friends in this region, and was not afraid to be followed. Here he sat on a fallen log and rested a while."

"How do you know that, Tayoga?"

"See the prints in front of the log. They were made by the heels of his moccasins only. He tilted his feet up until they rested merely on the heels. The Great Bear could not have been in that attitude while standing. Nay, there is more. The Great Bear sat down here not to rest but to think."

"It's just supposition with you, Tayoga."

"It is not supposition at all, Dagaeoga, it is certainty. Look, several little pieces of the bark on the dead log where the Great Bear sat, are picked off. Here are the places from which they were taken, and here are the fragments themselves lying on the ground. The Great Bear must have been thinking very hard and he must have been in great doubt to have had uneasy hands, because, as you and I know, Dagaeoga, his mind and nerves are of the calmest."

"What, then, do you think was on his mind?"

"He was undecided whether to go on towards Oneadatote or to turn back and seek us anew. Here are three or four traces, a short and detached trail leading in the direction from which we have come. Then the traces suddenly turn. He sat down again and thought it over a second time."

"You can't possibly know that he resumed his seat on the log!"

"Oh, yes, I can, Dagaeoga. I wish all that we had to see was as easy, because here is the second place on the log where he picked at the bark. Mighty as the Great Bear is he cannot sit in two places at once. Not Tododaho himself could do that."

"It's conclusive, and I find here at the end of the log his trail, leading on toward the east."

"And he went fast, because the distance between his footprints lengthens. But he did not do so long. He became very slow suddenly. The space between the footprints shortens all at once. He turned aside, too, from his course, and crept through the bushes toward the south."

"How do you know that he crept?"

"Because for many steps he rested his weight wholly on his toes. The traces show it very clearly. The Great Bear was stalking something, and it was not a foe."

"That, at least, is supposition, Tayoga."

"Not supposition, Dagaeoga, and while not absolute certainty it is a great probability. The toeprints lead straight toward the tiny little lake that you see shining through the foliage. It was game and not a foe that the Great Bear was seeking. He wished to shoot a wild fowl. Look, the edge of the lake here is low, and the tender water grasses grow to a distance of several yards from the shore. It is just the place where wild ducks or wild geese would be found, and the Great Bear secured the one he wanted. If you will look closely, Dagaeoga, you will see the faint trace of blood on the grass. Blood lasts a long time. Manitou has willed that it should be so, because it is the life fluid of his creatures. It was a wild goose that the Great Bear shot."

"And why not a wild duck?"

"Because here are two of the feathers, and even Dagaeoga knows they are the feathers of a goose and not of a duck. It was, too, the fattest goose in the flock."

"Which you have no possible way of knowing, Tayoga."

"But I do, Dagaeoga. It was the fattest goose of the flock, because the fattest goose of the flock was the one that so wise and skillful a hunter as the Great Bear would, as a matter of course, select and kill. Learn, O, Dagaeoga, to trail with your mind as well as with your eye, and ear. The day may come when the white man will equal the red man in intellect, but it is yet far off. The Great Bear was very, very hungry, and we shall soon reach the place where he cleaned and cooked his goose."

"Come, come, Tayoga! You may draw good conclusions from what you see, but there are no prophets nowadays. You don't know anything about the state of Dave's appetite, when he shot that goose, and