The Hidden Children

by

Robert W. Chambers, 1914

 TO MY MOTHER

Whatever merit may lie in this book is due to her wisdom, her sympathy and her teaching

 AUTHOR'S PREFACE

No undue liberties with history have been attempted in this romance. Few characters in the story are purely imaginary. Doubtless thefastidious reader will distinguish these intruders at a glance, andvery properly ignore them. For they, and what they never were, and whatthey never did, merely sugar-coat a dose disguised, and gild the solidpill of fact with tinselled fiction. 

But from the flames of Poundridge town ablaze, to the rolling smoke ofCatharines-town, Romance but limps along a trail hewed out for her moredainty feet by History, and measured inch by inch across the bloodyarchives of the nation. 

The milestones that once marked that dark and dreadful trail were deadmen, red and white. Today a spider-web of highways spreads over thatDark Empire of the League, enmeshing half a thousand towns now alla-buzz by day and all a-glow by night. 

Empire, League, forest, are vanished; of the nations which formed theConfederacy only altered fragments now remain. But their memory andtheir great traditions have not perished; cities, mountains, valleys, rivers, lakes, and ponds are endowed with added beauty from the lovelynames they wear--a tragic yet a charming legacy from Kanonsis andKanonsionni, the brave and mighty people of the Long House, and thoseoutside its walls who helped to prop or undermine it, Huron andAlgonquin. 

Perhaps of all national alliances ever formed, the Great Peace, whichis called the League of the Iroquois, was as noble as any. For it was aleague formed solely to impose peace. Those who took up arms againstthe Long House were received as allies when conquered--save only thetreacherous Cat Nation, or Eries, who were utterly annihilated by theknife and hatchet or by adoption and ultimate absorption in the SenecaNation. 

As for the Lenni-Lenape, when they kept faith with the League theyremained undisturbed as one of the "props" of the Long House, and theirrole in the Confederacy was embassadorial, diplomatic and advisory--inother words, the role of the Iroquois married women. And in theConfederacy the position of women was one of importance and dignity, and they exercised a franchise which no white nation has ever yetaccorded to its women. 

But when the Delawares broke faith, then the lash fell and the term"women" as applied to them carried a very different meaning when spatout by Canienga lips or snarled by Senecas. 

Yet, of the Lenape, certain tribes, offshoots, and clans remainedimpassive either to Iroquois threats or proffered friendship. They, like certain lithe, proud forest animals to whom restriction meansdeath, were untamable. Their necks could endure no yoke, political orpurely ornamental. And so they perished far from the Onondagafirelight, far from the open doors of the Long House, self-exiled, self-sufficient, irreconcilable, and foredoomed. And of these theMohicans were the noblest. 

In the four romances--of which, though written last of all, this is thethird, chronologically speaking--the author is very conscious of errorand shortcoming. But the theme was surely worth attempting; and if thefailure to convince be only partial then is the writer grateful to theFates, and well content to leave it to the next and better man. 

BROADALBIN, Early Spring, 1913. __________________________________________________________________

 NOTE

During the serial publication of "The Hidden Children" the authorreceived the following interesting letters relating to the authorshipof the patriotic verses quoted in Chapter X. , These letters arepublished herewith for the general reader as well as for students ofAmerican history. 

 R. W. C. 

 149 WEST EIGHTY-EIGHTH STREET, NEW YORK CITY. 

MRS. HELEN DODGE KNEELAND:

DEAR MADAM: Some time ago I accidentally came across the verses writtenby Samuel Dodge and used by R. W. Chambers in story "Hidden Children. "I wrote to him, inviting him to come and look at the originalmanuscript, which has come down to me from my mother, whose maiden namewas Helen Dodge Cocks, a great-granddaughter of Samuel Dodge, ofPoughkeepsie, the author of them. 

So far Mr. Chambers has not come, but he answered my note, inclosingyour note to him. I have written to him, suggesting that he insert afootnote giving the authorship of the verses, that it would gratify thedescendants of Samuel Dodge, as well as be a tribute to a patrioticcitizen. 

These verses have been published a number of times. About three yearsago by chance I read them in the December National Magazine, p. 247(Boston), entitled "A Revolutionary Puzzle, " and stating that theauthor was unknown. Considering it my duty to place the honor where itbelonged, I wrote to the editor, giving the facts, which he courteouslypublished in the September number, 1911, p. 876. 

Should you be in New York any time, I will take pleasure in showing youthe original manuscripts. 

 Very truly yours, ROBERT S. MORRIS, M. D. 

MR. ROBERT CHAMBERS, New York. 

DEAR SIR: I have not replied to your gracious letter, as I relied uponDr. Morris to prove to you the authorship of the verses you used inyour story of "The Hidden Children. " I now inclose a letter from him, hoping that you will carry out his suggestion. Is it asking too muchfor you to insert a footnote in the next magazine or in the story whenit comes out in book form? I think with Dr. Morris that this should bedone as a "tribute to a patriotic citizen. "

Trusting that you will appreciate the interest we have shown in thismatter, I am

 Sincerely yours, HELEN DODGE KNEELAND. 

 May 21st, 1914. 

 Ann Arbor, Michigan. 

 MRS. FRANK G. KNEELAND, 727 E. University Avenue. __________________________________________________________________

 THE LONG HOUSE

 "Onenh jatthondek sewarih-wisa-anongh-kwe kaya-renh-kowah! Onenh wa-karigh-wa-kayon-ne. Onenh ne okne joska-wayendon. Yetsi-siwan-enyadanion ne Sewari-wisa-anonqueh. "

 "_Now listen, ye who established the Great League! Now it has become old. Now there is nothing but wilderness. Ye are in your graves who established it. _"

 "At the Wood's Edge. " __________________________________________________________________

 NENE KARENNA

 When the West kindles red and low, Across the sunset's sombre glow, The black crows fly--the black crows fly! High pines are swaying to and fro In evil winds that blow and blow. The stealthy dusk draws nigh--draws nigh, Till the sly sun at last goes down, And shadows fall on Catharines-town. 

 _Oswaya swaying to and fro. _

 By the Dark Empire's Western gate Eight stately, painted Sachems wait For Amochol--for Amochol! Hazel and samphire consecrate The magic blaze that burns like Hate, While the deep witch-drums roll--and roll. Sorceress, shake thy dark hair down! The Red Priest comes from Catharines-town. 

 _Ha-ai! Karenna! Fate is Fate. _

 Now let the Giants clothed in stone Stalk from Biskoonah; while, new grown, The Severed Heads fly high--fly high! White-throat, White-throat, thy doom is known! O Blazing Soul that soars alone Like a Swift Arrow to the sky, High winging--fling thy Wampum down, Lest the sky fall on Catharines-town. 

 _White-throat, White-throat, thy course is flown. _

 R. W. C. __________________________________________________________________

CONTENTS

 I THE BEDFORD ROAD II POUNDRIDGE III VIEW HALLOO! IV A TRYST V THE GATHERING VI THE SPRING WAIONTHA VII LOIS VIII OLD FRIENDS IX MID-SUMMER X IN GARRISON XI A SCOUT OF SIX XII AT THE FORD XIII THE HIDDEN CHILDREN XIV NAI TIOGA! XV BLOCK-HOUSE NO. 2 XVI LANA HELMER XVII THE BATTLE OF CHEMUNG XVIII THE RITE OF THE HIDDEN CHILDREN XIX AMOCHOL XX YNDAIA XXI CHINISEE CASTLE XXII MES ADIEUX

 __________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER I

THE BEDFORD ROAD

In the middle of the Bedford Road we three drew bridle. Boyd lounged inhis reeking saddle, gazing at the tavern and at what remained of thetavern sign, which seemed to have been a new one, yet now dangledmournfully by one hinge, shot to splinters. 

The freshly painted house itself, marred with buckshot, bore dignifiedwitness to the violence done it. A few glazed windows still remainedunbroken; the remainder had been filled with blue paper such as comeswrapped about a sugar cone, so that the misused house seemed to bewatching us out of patched and battered eyes. 

It was evident, too, that a fire had been wantonly set at the northeastangle of the house, where sill and siding were deeply charred frombaseboard to eaves. 

Nor had this same fire happened very long since, for under the eaveswhite-faced hornets were still hard at work repairing their partlyscorched nest. And I silently pointed them out to Lieutenant Boyd. 

"Also, " he nodded, "I can still smell the smoky wood. The damage isfresh enough. Look at your map. "

He pushed his horse straight up to the closed door, continuing toexamine the dismantled sign which hung motionless, there being no windstirring. 

"This should be Hays's Tavern, " he said, "unless they lied to us atOssining. Can you make anything of the sign, Mr. Loskiel?"

"Nothing, sir. But we are on the highway to Poundridge, for behind uslies the North Castle Church road. All is drawn on my map as we see ithere before us; and this should be the fine dwelling of that greatvillain Holmes, now used as a tavern by Benjamin Hays. "

"Rap on the door, " said Boyd; and our rifleman escort rode forward anddrove his rifle-butt at the door, "There's a man hiding within andpeering at us behind the third window, " I whispered. 

"I see him, " said Boyd coolly. 

Through the heated silence around us we could hear the hornets buzzingaloft under the smoke-stained eaves. There was no other sound in theJuly sunshine. 

The solemn tavern stared at us out of its injured eyes, and we threemen of the Northland gazed back as solemnly, sobered once more toencounter the trail of the Red Beast so freshly printed here among thepleasant Westchester hills. 

And to us the silent house seemed to say: "Gentlemen, gentlemen! Lookat the plight I'm in--you who come from the blackened North!" And withnever a word of lip our heavy thoughts responded: "We know, old house!We know! But at least you still stand; and in the ashes of ourNorthland not a roof or a spire remains aloft between the dwelling ofDeborah Glenn and the ford at the middle fort. "

Boyd broke silence with an effort; and his voice was once more cool andcareless, if a little forced:

"So it's this way hereabouts, too, " he said with a shrug and a sign tome to dismount. Which I did stiffly; and our rifleman escort scrambledfrom his sweatty saddle and gathered all three bridles in his mighty, sunburnt fist. 

"Either there is a man or a ghost within, " I said again, "Whatever itis has moved. "

"A man, " said Boyd, "or what the inhumanity of man has left of him. "

And it was true, for now there came to the door and opened it a thinfellow wearing horn spectacles, who stood silent and cringing beforeus. Slowly rubbing his workworn hands, he made us a landlord's bow aslistless and as perfunctory as ever I have seen in any ordinary. Buthis welcome was spoken in a whisper. 

"God have mercy on this house, " said Boyd loudly. "Now, what's amiss, friend? Is there death within these honest walls, that you move abouton tiptoe?"

"There is death a-plenty in Westchester, sir, " said the man, in a voiceas colorless as his drab smalls and faded hair. Yet what he said showedus that he had noted our dress, too, and knew us for strangers. 

"Cowboys and skinners, eh?" inquired Boyd, unbuckling his belt. 

"And leather-cape, too, sir. "

My lieutenant laughed, showing his white teeth; laid belt, hatchet, andheavy knife on a wine-stained table, and placed his rifle against it. Then, slipping cartridge sack, bullet pouch, and powder horn from hisshoulders, stood eased, yawning and stretching his fine, powerful frame. 

"I take it that you see few of our corps here below, " he observedindulgently. 

The landlord's lack-lustre eyes rested on me for an instant, then onBoyd:

"Few, sir. "

"Do you know the uniform, landlord?"

"Rifles, " he said indifferently. 

"Yes, but whose, man? Whose?" insisted Boyd impatiently. 

The other shook his head. 

"Morgan's!" exclaimed Boyd loudly. "Damnation, sir! You should knowMorgan's! Sixth Company, sir; Major Parr! And a likelier regiment and abetter company never wore green thrums on frock or coon-tail on cap!"

"Yes, sir, " said the man vacantly. 

Boyd laughed a little:

"And look that you hint as much to the idle young bucks hereabouts--sayit to some of your Westchester squirrel hunters----" He laid his handon the landlord's shoulder. "There's a good fellow, " he added, withthat youthful and winning smile which so often carried home with it hisreckless will--where women were concerned--"we're down from Albany andwe wish the Bedford folk to know it. And if the gallant fellowshereabout desire a taste of true glory--the genuine article--why, sendthem to me, landlord--Thomas Boyd, of Derry, Pennsylvania, lieutenant, 6th company of Morgan's--or to my comrade here, Mr. Loskiel, ensign inthe same corps. "

He clapped the man heartily on the shoulder and stood looking around atthe stripped and dishevelled room, his handsome head a little on oneside, as though in frankest admiration. And the worn and pallidlandlord gazed back at him with his faded, lack-lustre eyes--eyes thatwe both understood, alas--eyes made dull with years of fear, made oldand hopeless with unshed tears, stupid from sleepless nights, hauntedwith memories of all they had looked upon since His Excellency marchedout of the city to the south of us, where the red rag now fluttered onfort and shipping from King's Bridge to the Hook. 

Nothing more was said. Our landlord went away very quietly. An hostler, presently appearing from somewhere, passed the broken windows, and wesaw our rifleman go away with him, leading the three tired horses. Wewere still yawning and drowsing, stretched out in our hickory chairs, and only kept awake by the flies, when our landlord returned and setbefore us what food he had. The fare was scanty enough, but we atehungrily, and drank deeply of the fresh small beer which he fetched ina Liverpool jug. 

When we two were alone again, Boyd whispered:

"As well let them think we're here with no other object thanrecruiting. And so we are, after a fashion; but neither this state norPennsylvania is like to fill its quota here. Where is your map, oncemore?"

I drew the coiled linen roll from the breast of my rifle shirt andspread it out. We studied it, heads together. 

"Here lies Poundridge, " nodded Boyd, placing his finger on the spot somarked. "Roads a-plenty, too. Well, it's odd, Loskiel, but in thiscursed, debatable land I feel more ill at ease than I have ever felt inthe Iroquois country. "

"You are still thinking of our landlord's deathly face, " I said. "Lord!What a very shadow of true manhood crawls about this house!"

"Aye--and I am mindful of every other face and countenance I have sofar seen in this strange, debatable land. All have in them something ofthe same expression. And therein lies the horror of it all, Mr. LoskielGod knows we expect to see deathly faces in the North, where littlechildren lie scalped in the ashes of our frontier--where they evenscalp the family hound that guards the cradle. But here in this sleepy, open countryside, with its gentle hills and fertile valleys, broadfields and neat stone walls, its winding roads and orchards, and everypretty farmhouse standing as though no war were in the land, all seemsso peaceful, so secure, that the faces of the people sicken me. Andever I am asking myself, where lies this other hell on earth, whichonly faces such as these could have looked upon?"

"It is sad, " I said, under my breath. "Even when a lass smiles on us itseems to start the tears in my throat. "

"Sad! Yes, sir, it is. I supposed we had seen sufficient of humandegradation in the North not to come here to find the same cringingexpression stamped on every countenance. I'm sick of it, I tell you. Why, the British are doing worse than merely filling their prisons withus and scalping us with their savages! They are slowly but surelymarking our people, body and face and mind, with the cursed imprint ofslavery. They're stamping a nation's very features with the hopelesslineaments of serfdom. It is the ineradicable scars of former slaverythat make the New Englander whine through his nose. We of the fightingline bear no such marks, but the peaceful people are beginning to--theywho can do nothing except endure and suffer. "

"It is not so everywhere, " I said, "not yet, anyway. "

"It is so in the North. And we have found it so since we entered the'Neutral Ground. ' Like our own people on the frontier, theseWestchester folk fear everybody. You yourself know how we have foundthem. To every question they try to give an answer that may please; orif they despair of pleasing they answer cautiously, in order not toanger. The only sentiment left alive in them seems to be fear; all elseof human passion appears to be dead. Why, Loskiel, the very power ofwill has deserted them; they are not civil to us, but obsequious; notobliging but subservient. They yield with apathy and very quietly whatyou ask, and what they apparently suppose is impossible for them toretain. If you treat them kindly they receive it coldly, notgratefully, but as though you were compensating them for evil done themby you. Their countenances and motions have lost every trace ofanimation. It is not serenity but apathy; every emotion, feeling, thought, passion, which is not merely instinctive has fled their mindsforever. And this is the greatest crime that Britain has wrought uponus. " He struck the table lightly with doubled fist, "Mr. Loskiel, " hesaid, "I ask you--can we find recruits for our regiment in such a placeas this? Damme, sir, but I think the entire land has lost its manhood. "

We sat staring out into the sunshine through a bullet-shattered window. 

"And all this country here seems so fair and peaceful, " he murmuredhalf to himself, "so sweet and still and kindly to me after thetwilight of endless forests where men are done to death in the dusk. But hell in broad sunshine is the more horrible. "

"Look closer at this country, " I said. "The highways are deserted andsilent, the very wagon ruts overgrown with grass. Not a scythe hasswung in those hay fields; the gardens that lie in the sun are buttangles of weeds; no sheep stir on the hills, no cattle stand in thesedeep meadows, no wagons pass, no wayfarers. It may be that the wildbirds are moulting, but save at dawn and for a few moments at sundownthey seem deathly silent to me. "

He had relapsed again into his moody, brooding attitude, elbows on thetable, his handsome head supported by both hands. And it was not likehim to be downcast. After a while he smiled. 

"Egad, " he said, "it is too melancholy for me here in the open; and Ibegin to long for the dusk of trees and for the honest scalp yell tocheer me up. One knows what to expect in county Tryon--but not here, Loskiel--not here. "

"Our business here is like to be ended tomorrow, " I remarked. 

"Thank God for that, " he said heartily, rising and buckling on his warbelt. He added: "As for any recruits we have been ordered to pick up enpassant, I see small chance of that accomplishment hereabout. Will yousummon the landlord, Mr. Loskiel?"

I discovered the man standing at the open door, his warn hands claspedbehind him, and staring stupidly at the cloudless sky. He followed meback to the taproom, and we reckoned with him. Somehow, I thought hehad not expected to be paid a penny--yet he did not thank us. 

"Are you not Benjamin Hays?" inquired Boyd, carelessly retying hispurse. 

The fellow seemed startled to hear his own name pronounced so loudly, but answered very quietly that he was. 

"This house belongs to a great villain, one James Holmes, does it not?"demanded Boyd. 

"Yes, sir, " he whispered. 

"How do you come to keep an ordinary here?"

"The town authorities required an ordinary. I took it in charge, asthey desired. "

"Oh! Where is this rascal, Holmes?"

"Gone below, sir, some time since. "

"I have heard so. Was he not formerly Colonel of the 4th regiment?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And deserted his men, eh? And they made him Lieutenant-Colonel below, did they not?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Colonel--of what?" snarled Boyd in disgust. 

"Of the Westchester Refugee Irregulars. "

"Oh! Well, look out for him and his refugees. He'll be back here one ofthese days, I'm thinking. "

"He has been back. "

"What did he do?"

The man said listlessly: "It was like other visits. They robbed, tortured, and killed. Some they burnt with hot ashes, some they hung, cut down, and hung again when they revived. Most of the sheep, cattle, and horses were driven off. Last year thousands of bushels of fruitdecayed in the orchards; the ripened grain lay rotting where wind andrain had laid it; no hay was cut, no grain milled. "

"Was this done by the banditti from the lower party?"

"Yes, sir; and by the leather-caps, too. The leather-caps stood guardwhile the Tories plundered and killed. It is usually that way, sir. Andour own renegades are as bad. We in Westchester have to entertain themall. "

"But they burn no houses?"

"Not yet, sir. They have promised to do so next time. "

"Are there no troops here?"

"Yes, sir. "

"What troops?"

"Colonel Thomas's Regiment and Sheldon's Horse and the Minute Men. "

"Well, what the devil are they about to permit this banditti to terrifyand ravage a peaceful land?" demanded Boyd. 

"The country is of great extent, " said the man mildly. "It wouldrequire many troops to cover it. And His Excellency has very, very few. "

"Yes, " said Boyd, "that is true. We know how it is in the North--withhundreds of miles to guard and but a handful of men. And it must bethat way. " He made no effort to throw off his seriousness and noddedtoward me with a forced smile. "I am twenty-two years of age, " he said, "and Mr. Loskiel here is no older, and we fully expect that when weboth are past forty we will still be fighting in this same old war. Meanwhile, " he added laughing, "every patriot should find some lass towed and breed the soldiers we shall require some sixteen years hence. "

The man's smile was painful; he smiled because he thought we expectedit; and I turned away disheartened, ashamed, burning with a fierceresentment against the fate that in three years had turned us into whatwe were--we Americans who had never known the lash--we who had neverlearned to fear a master. 

Boyd said: "There is a gentleman, one Major Ebenezer Lockwood, hereabouts. Do you know him?"

"No, sir. "

"What? Why, that seems strange!"

The man's face paled, and he remained silent for a few moments. Then, furtively, his eyes began for the hundredth time to note the details ofour forest dress, stealing stealthily from the fringe on legging andhunting shirt to the Indian beadwork on moccasin and baldrick, devouring every detail as though to convince himself. I think ourpewter buttons did it for him. 

Boyd said gravely: "You seem to doubt us, Mr. Hays, " and read in theman's unsteady eyes distrust of everything on earth--and little faithin God. 

"I do not blame you, " said I gently. "Three years of hell burn deep. "

"Yes, " he said, "three years. And, as you say, sir, there was fire. "

He stood quietly silent for a space, then, looking timidly at me, herolled back his sleeves, first one, then the other, to the shoulders. Then he undid the bandages. 

"What is all that?" asked Boyd harshly. 

"The seal of the marauders, sir. "

"They burnt you? God, man, you are but one living sore! Did any whiteman do that to you?"

"With hot horse-shoes. It will never quite heal, they say. "

I saw the lieutenant shudder. The only thing he ever feared wasfire--if it could be said of him that he feared anything. And he hadtold me that, were he taken by the Iroquois, he had a pistol alwaysready to blow out his brains. 

Boyd had begun to pace the room, doubling and undoubling his nervousfingers. The landlord replaced the oil-soaked rags, rolled down hissleeves again, and silently awaited our pleasure. 

"Why do you hesitate to tell us where we may find Major Lockwood?" Iasked gently. 

For the first time the man looked me full in the face. And after amoment I saw his expression alter, as though some spark--somethingalready half dead within him was faintly reviving. 

"They have set a price on Major Lockwood's head, " he said; and Boydhalted to listen--and the man looked him in the eyes for a moment. 

My lieutenant carried his commission with him, though contrary toadvice and practice among men engaged on such a mission as were we. Itwas folded in his beaded shot-pouch, and now he drew it out anddisplayed it. 

After a silence, Hays said:

"The old Lockwood Manor House stands on the south side of the villageof Poundridge. It is the headquarters and rendezvous of Sheldon'sHorse. The Major is there. "

"Poundridge lies to the east of Bedford?"

"Yes, sir, about five miles. "

"Where is the map, Loskiel?"

Again I drew it from my hunting shirt; we examined it, and Hays pointedout the two routes. 

Boyd looked up at Hays absently, and said: "Do you know LutherKinnicut?"

This time all the colour fled the man's face, and it was some momentsbefore the sudden, unreasoning rush of terror in that bruised mind hadsubsided sufficiently for him to compose his thoughts. Little bylittle, however, he came to himself again, dimly conscious that hetrusted us--perhaps the first strangers or even neighbours whom he hadtrusted in years. 

"Yes, sir, I know him, " he said in a low voice. 

"Where is he?"

"Below--on our service. "

But it was Luther Kinnicut, the spy, whom we had come to interview, aswell as to see Major Lockwood, and Boyd frowned thoughtfully. 

I said: "The Indians hereabout are Mohican, are they not, Mr. Hays?"

"They were, " he replied; and his very apathy gave the answer a saddersignificance. 

"Have they all gone off?" asked Boyd, misunderstanding. 

"There were very few Mohicans to go. But they have gone. "

"Below?"

"Oh, no, sir. They and the Stockbridge Indians, and the Siwanois arefriendly to our party. "

"There was a Sagamore, " I said, "of the Siwanois, named Mayaro. Webelieve that Luther Kinnicut knows where this Sagamore is to be found. But how are we to first find Kinnicut?"

"Sir, " he said, "you must ask Major Lockwood that. I know not oneIndian from the next, only that the savages hereabout are said to befavourable to our party. "

Clearly there was nothing more to learn from this man. So we thankedhim and strapped on our accoutrements, while he went away to the barnto bring up our horses. And presently our giant rifleman appearedleading the horses, and still munching a bough-apple, scarce ripe, which he dropped into the bosom of his hunting shirt when he discoveredus watching him. 

Boyd laughed: "Munch away, Jack, and welcome, " he said, "only mind thymanners when we sight regular troops. I'll have nobody reproachingMorgan's corps that the men lack proper respect--though many peopleseem to think us but a parcel of militia where officer and man herdcheek by jowl. "

On mounting, he turned in his saddle and asked Hays what we had to fearon our road, if indeed we were to apprehend anything. 

"There is some talk of the Legion Cavalry, sir--Major Tarleton'scommand. "

"Anything definite?"

"No, sir--only the talk when men of our party meet. And Major Lockwoodhas a price on his head. "

"Oh! Is that all?"

"That is all, sir. "

Boyd nodded laughingly, wheeled his horse, and we rode slowly out intothe Bedford Road, the mounted rifleman dogging our heels. 

From every house in Bedford we knew that we were watched as we rode;and what they thought of us in our flaunting rifle dress, or what theytook us to be--enemy or friend--I cannot imagine, the uniform of ourcorps being strange in these parts. However, they must have known usfor foresters and riflemen of one party or t'other; and, as weadvanced, and there being only three of us, and on a highway, too, verynear to the rendezvous of an American dragoon regiment, the good folknot only peeped out at us from between partly closed shutters, but evenventured to open their doors and stand gazing after we had ridden by. 

Every pretty maid he saw seemed to comfort Boyd prodigiously, which wasalways the case; and as here and there a woman smiled faintly at himthe last vestige of sober humour left him and he was more like thereckless, handsome young man I had come to care for a great deal, ifnot wholly to esteem. 

The difference in rank between us permitted him to relax if he chose;and though His Excellency and our good Baron were ever dinningdiscipline and careful respect for rank into the army's republicanears, there was among us nothing like the aristocratic and rigidsentiment which ruled the corps of officers in the British service. 

Still, we were not as silly and ignorant as we were at Bunker Hill, having learned something of authority and respect in these three years, and how necessary to discipline was a proper maintenance of rank. Foronce--though it seems incredible--men and officers were practically ona footing of ignorant familiarity; and I have heard, and fully believe, that the majority of our reverses and misfortunes arose because noofficer represented authority, nor knew how to enforce disciplinebecause lacking that military respect upon which all real disciplinemust be founded. 

Of all the officers in my corps and in my company, perhaps LieutenantBoyd was slowest to learn the lesson and most prone to relax, nottoward the rank and file--yet, he was often a shade too easy there, also--but with other officers. Those ranking him were not alwayspleased; those whom he ranked felt vaguely the mistake. 

As for me, I liked him greatly; yet, somehow, never could bring myselfto a careless comradeship, even in the woods or on lonely scouts whereformality and circumstance seemed out of place, even absurd. He was somuch of a boy, too--handsome, active, perfectly fearless, and almostalways gay--that if at times he seemed a little selfish or ruthless inhis pleasures, not sufficiently mindful of others or of consequences, Ifound it easy to forgive and overlook. Yet, fond as I was of him, Inever had become familiar with him--why, I do not know. Perhaps becausehe ranked me; and perhaps there was no particular reason for thatinstinct of aloofness which I think was part of me at that age, and, except in a single instance, still remains as the slightest and almostimpalpable barrier to a perfect familiarity with any person in theworld. 

"Loskiel, " he said in my ear, "did you see that little maid in theorchard, how shyly she smiled on us?"

"On you, " I nodded, laughing. 

"Oh, you always say that, " he retorted. 

And I always did say that, and it always pleased him. 

"On this accursed journey south, " he complained, "the necessity forspeed has spoiled our chances for any roadside sweethearts. Lord! Butit's been a long, dull trail, " he added frankly. "Why, look you, Loskiel, even in the wilderness somehow I always have contrived todiscover a sweetheart of some sort or other--yes, even in the Iroquoiscountry, cleared or bush, somehow or other, sooner or later, I stumbleon some pretty maid who flutters up in the very wilderness like apartridge from under my feet!"

"That is your reputation, " I remarked. 

"Oh, damme, no!" he protested. "Don't say it is my reputation!"

But he had that reputation, whether he realised it or not; though asfar as I had seen there was no real harm in the man--only a willingnessto make love to any petticoat, if its wearer were pretty. But my ownnotions had ever inclined me toward quality. Which is not strange, Imyself being of unknown parentage and birth, high or low, nobody knew;nor had anybody ever told me how I came by my strange name, EuanLoskiel, save that they found the same stitched in silk upon my shift. 

For it is best, perhaps, that I say now how it was with me from thebeginning, which, until this memoir is read, only one man knew--and oneother. For I was discovered sleeping beside a stranded St. Regis canoe, where the Mohawk River washes Guy Park gardens. And my dead mother laybeside me. 

He who cared for me, reared me and educated me, was no other than GuyJohnson of Guy Park. Why he did so I learned only after many days; andat the proper time and place I will tell you who I am and why he waskind to me. For his was not a warm and kindly character, nor a gentlenature, nor was he an educated man himself, nor perhaps even agentleman, though of that landed gentry which Tryon County knew sowell, and also a nephew of the great Sir William, and became hisson-in-law. 

I say he was not liked in Tryon County, though many feared him morethan they feared young Walter Butler later; yet he was always andinvariably kind to me. And when with the Butlers, and Sir John, andColonel Claus, and the other Tories he fled to Canada, there to hatchmost hellish reprisals upon the people of Tryon who had driven himforth, he wrote to me where I was at Harvard College in Cambridge tobid me farewell. 

He said to me in that letter that he did not ask me to declare for theKing in the struggle already beginning; he merely requested, if I couldnot conscientiously so declare, at least that I remain passive, andattend quietly to my studies at Cambridge until the war blew over, asit quickly must, and these insolent people were taught their lesson. 

The lesson, after three years and more, was still in progress; Guy Parkhad fallen into the hands of the Committee of Sequestration and wasalready sold; Guy Johnson roamed a refugee in Canada, and I, since thefirst crack of a British musket, had learned how matters stood betweenmy heart and conscience, and had carried a rifle and at times myregiment's standard ever since. 

I had no home except my regiment, no friends except Guy Johnson's, andthose I had made at College and in the regiment; and the former wouldlikely now have greeted me with rifle or hatchet, whichever came easierto hand. 

So to me my rifle regiment and my company had become my only home; theofficers my parents; my comrades the only friends I had. 

I wrote to Guy Johnson, acquainting him of my intention before Ienlisted, and the letter went to him with other correspondence under aflag. 

In time I had a reply from him, and he wrote as though somethingstronger than hatred for the cause I had embraced was forcing him tospeak to me gently. 

God knows it was a strange, sad letter, full of bitterness under whichsmouldered something more terrible, which, as he wrote, he strangled. And so he ended, saying that, through him, no harm should ever menaceme; and that in the fullness of time, when this vile rebellion had beenended, he would vouch for the mercy of His Most Christian Majesty asfar as I was concerned, even though all others hung in chains. 

Thus I had left it all--not then knowing who I was or why Guy Johnsonhad been kind to me; nor ever expecting to hear from him again. 

Thinking of these things as I rode beside Lieutenant Boyd through thecalm Westchester sunshine, all that part of my life--which indeed wasall of my life except these last three battle years--seemed already sofar sway, so dim and unreal, that I could scarce realise I had not beenalways in the army--had not always lived from day to day, from hour tohour, not knowing one night where I should pillow my head the next. 

For at nineteen I shouldered my rifle; and now, at Boyd's age, two andtwenty, my shoulder had become so accustomed to its not unpleasantweight that, at moments, thinking, I realised that I would not knowwhat to do in the world had I not my officers, my company, and my rifleto companion me through life. 

And herein lies the real danger of all armies and of all soldiering. Only the strong character and exceptional man is ever fitted for anyother life after the army becomes a closed career to him. 

I now remarked as much to Boyd, who frowned, seeming to consider thematter for the first time. 

"Aye, " he nodded, "it's true enough, Loskiel. And I for one don't knowwhat use I could make of the blessings of peace for which we are somadly fighting, and which we all protest that we desire. "

"The blessings of peace might permit you more leisure with the ladies, "I suggested smilingly. And he threw back his handsome head and laughed. 

"Lord!" he exclaimed. "What chance have I, a poor rifleman, who may noteven wear his hair clubbed and powdered. "

Only field and staff now powdered in our corps. I said: "Heaven hastenyour advancement, sir. "

"Not that I'd care a fig, " he protested, "if I had your yellow, curlyhead, you rogue. But with my dark hair unpowdered and uncurled, and noside locks, I tell you, Loskiel, I earn every kiss that is given me--orforgiven. Heigho! Peace would truly be a blessing if she brought powderand pretty clothing to a crop-head, buck-skinned devil like me. "

We were now riding through a country which had become uneven andsomewhat higher. A vast wooded hill lay on our left; the Bedfordhighway skirted it. On our right ran a stream, and there was someswampy land which followed. Rock outcrops became more frequent, and thehard-wood growth of oak, hickory and chestnut seemed heavier and moreextensive than in Bedford town. But there were orchards; the soilseemed to be fertile and the farms thrifty, and it was a pleasant landsave for the ominous stillness over all and the grass-grown highway. Roads and lanes, paths and pastures remained utterly deserted of manand beast. 

This, if our map misled us not, should be the edges of the town ofPoundridge; and within a mile or so more we began to see a house hereand there. These farms became more frequent as we advanced. After a fewmoments' riding we saw the first cattle that we had seen in many days. And now we began to find this part of the Westchester country verydifferent, as we drew nearer to the village, for here and there we sawsheep feeding in the distance, and men mowing who leaned on theirscythes to see us pass, and even saluted us from afar. 

It seemed as though a sense of security reigned here, though nobodyfailed to mark our passing or even to anticipate it from far off. Butnobody appeared to be afraid of us, and we concluded that the nearvicinity of Colonel Sheldon's Horse accounted for what we saw. 

It was pleasant to see women spinning beside windows in which flowersbloomed, and children gazing shyly at us from behind stone walls andpalings. Also, in barnyards we saw fowls, which was more than we hadseen West of us--and now and again a family cat dozing on some doorstepfreshly swept. 

"I had forgotten there was such calm and peace in the world, " saidBoyd. "And the women look not unkindly on us--do you think, Loskiel?"

But I was intent on watching a parcel of white ducks leaving a littlepond, all walking a-row and quacking, and wriggling their fat tails. How absurd a thing to suddenly close my throat so that I could not findmy voice to answer Boyd; for ever before me grew the almost forgottenvision of Guy Park, and of our white waterfowl on the river behind thehouse, where I had seen them so often from my chamber window leavingthe water's edge at sundown. 

A mile outside the town a leather-helmeted dragoon barred our way, butwe soon satisfied him. 

We passed by the Northwest road, crossed the Stamford highway, and, consulting our map, turned back and entered it, riding south throughthe village. 

Here a few village folk were abroad; half a dozen of Sheldon's dragoonslounged outside the tavern, to the rail of which their horses weretied; and we saw other men with guns, doubtless militia, though fewwore any fragment of uniform, save as their hats were cocked orsprigged with green. 

Nobody hailed us, not even the soldiers; there was no levity, no jestdirected toward our giant rifleman, only a courteous but sober saluteas we rode through Poundridge town and out along the New Canaan highwaywhere houses soon became fewer and soldiers both afoot and ahorse morefrequent. 

We crossed a stream and two roads, then came into a street with manyhouses which ran south, then, at four corners, turned sharp to theeast. And there, across a little brook, we saw a handsome manor housearound which some three score cavalry horses were picketed. 

Yard, lawn, stables and barns were swarming with people--dragoons ofSheldon's Regiment, men of Colonel Thomas's foot regiment, militiaofficers, village gentlemen whose carriages stood waiting; and some ofthese same carriages must have come from a distance, perhaps even fromRidgefield, to judge by the mud and dust that clotted them. 

Beyond the house, on a road which I afterward learned ran towardLewisboro, between the Three Lakes, Cross Pond, and Bouton's, amilitary convoy was passing, raising a prodigious cloud of dust. Icould see, and faintly hear, sheep and cattle; there was a far crack ofwhips, a shouting of drovers and teamsters, and, through the dust, wecaught the sparkle of a bayonet here and there. 

Somewhere, doubtless, some half starved brigade of ours was gnawing itsnails and awaiting this same convoy; and I silently prayed God to leadit safely to its destination. 

"Pretty women everywhere!" whispered Boyd in my ear. "Our friend theMajor seems to have a houseful. The devil take me if I leave this towntomorrow!"

As we rode into the yard and dismounted, and our rifleman took thebridles, across the crowded roadway we could see a noble house with itsfront doors wide open and a group of ladies and children there and manygentlemen saluting them as they entered or left the house. 

"A respectable company, " I heard Boyd mutter to himself, as he stoodslapping the dust from hunting-shirt and leggings and smoothing thefringe. And, "Damme, Loskiel, " he said, "we're like to cut a mostcontemptible figure among such grand folk--what with our leatherbreeches, and saddle-reek for the only musk we wear. Lord! But yonderstands a handsome girl--and my condition mortifies me so that I couldslink off to the mews for shame and lie on straw with the hostlers. "

There was, I knew, something genuine in his pretense of hurt vanity, even under the merry mask he wore; but I only laughed. 

A great many people moved about, many, I could see, having arrived fromthe distant country; and there was a great noise of hammering, too, from a meadow below, where, a soldier told us, they were erectingbarracks for Sheldon's and for other troops shortly expected. 

"There is even talk of a fort for the ridge yonder, " he said. "One maysee the Sound from there. "

We glanced up at the ridge, then gazed curiously around, and finallywalked down along the stone wall to a pasture. Here, where they werebuilding the barracks, there had been a camp; and the place was stillsmelling stale enough. Tents were now being loaded on ox wagons; and acompany of Colonel Thomas's regiment was filing out along the roadafter the convoy which we had seen moving through the dust towardLewisboro. 

People stood about looking on; some poked at the embers of the smokyfires, some moused and prowled about to see what scrap they might pickup. 

Boyd's roving gaze had been arrested by a little scene enacting justaround the corner of the partly-erected barracks, where half a dozensoldiers had gathered around some camp-women, whose sullen attitudediscouraged their gallantries. She was dressed in shabby finery. On herhair, which was powdered, she wore a jaunty chip hat tied under herchin with soiled blue ribbons, and a kerchief of ragged lace hid herbosom, pinned with a withered rose. The scene was sordid enough; and, indifferent, I gazed elsewhere. 

"A shilling to a penny they kiss her yet!" he said to me presently, andfor the second time I noticed the comedy--if you choose to call itso--for the wench was now struggling fiercely amid the laughing men. 

"A pound to a penny!" repeated Boyd; "Do you take me, Loskiel?"

The next moment I had pushed in among them, forcing the hilariouscircle to open; and I heard her quick, uneven breathing as I elbowed myway to her, and turned on the men good-humoredly. 

"Come, boys, be off!" I said. "Leave rough sport to the lower party. She's sobbing. " I glanced at her. "Why, she's but a child, after all!Can't you see, boys? Now, off with you all in a hurry!"

There had evidently been some discipline drilled into Colonel Thomas'sregiments the men seemed instantly to know me for an officer, whetherby my dress or voice I know not, yet Morgan's rifle frock could bescarcely familiar to them. 

A mischievous sergeant saluted me, grinning, saying it was but idlesport and no harm meant; and so, some laughing, others seeming to beashamed, they made haste to clear out. I followed them, with a nod ofreassurance to the wench, who might have been their drab for aught Iknew, all camps being full of such poultry. 

"Gallantly done!" exclaimed Boyd derisively, as I came slowly back towhere he stood. "But had I been fortunate enough to think ofintervening, egad, I believe I would have claimed what she refused therest, Loskiel!"

"From a ruddied camp drab?" I asked scornfully. 

"Her cheeks and lips are not painted. I've discovered that, " heinsisted, staring back at her. 

"Lord!" said I. "Would you linger here making sheep's eyes at yonderragged baggage? Come, sir, if you please. "

"I tell you, I would give a half year's pay to see her washed andclothed becomingly!"

"You never will, " said I impatiently, and jogged his elbow to make himmove. For he was ever a prey to strange and wayward fancies whichhitherto I had only smiled at. But now, somehow--perhaps because theremight have been some excuse for this one--perhaps because what a manrescues he will not willingly leave to another--even such a poor youngthing as this plaything of the camp--for either of these reasons, orfor none at all, this ogling of her did not please me. 

Most unwillingly he yielded to the steady pressure of my elbow; and wemoved on, he turning his handsome head continually. After a while helaughed. 

"Nevertheless, " said he, "there stands the rarest essence of realbeauty I have ever seen, in lady born or beggar; and I am an ass to gomy way and leave it for the next who passes. "

I said nothing. 

He grumbled for a while below his breath, then:

"Yes, sir! Sheer beauty--by the roadside yonder--in ragged ribbons anda withered rose. Only--such Puritans as you perceive it not. "

After a silence, and as we entered the gateway to the manor house:

"I swear she wore no paint, Loskiel--whatever she is like enough to be. "

"Good heavens!" said I. "Are you brooding on her still?"

Yet, I myself was thinking of her, too; and because of it a strange, slow anger was possessing me. 

"Thank God, " thought I to myself, "no woman of the common class couldwin a second glance from me. In which, " I added with satisfaction, "Iam unlike most other men. "

A Philistine thought the same, one day--if I remember right. 

CHAPTER II

POUNDRIDGE

We now approached the door of the manor house, where we named ourselvesto the sentry, who presently fetched an officer of Minute Men, wholooked us over somewhat coldly. 

"You wish to see Major Lockwood?" he asked. 

"Yes, " said Boyd, "and you may say to him that we are come fromheadquarters express to speak with him on private business. "

"From whom in Albany do you come, sir?"

"Well, sir, if you must have it, from General Clinton, " returned Boydin a lower voice. "But we would not wish it gossipped aloud. "

The man seemed to be perplexed, but he went away again, leaving usstanding in the crowded hall where officers, ladies of the family, andblack servants were continually passing and repassing. 

Very soon a door opened on our left, and we caught a glimpse of ahandsome room full of officers and civilians, where maps were scatteredin confusion over tables, chairs, and even on the floor. An officer inbuff and blue came out of the room, glanced keenly at us, made a slightthough courteous inclination, but instead of coming forward to greet usturned into another room on the right, which was a parlour. 

Then the minute officer returned, directed us where to place ourrifles, insisted firmly that we also leave under his care our war axesand the pistol which Boyd carried, and then ushered us into theparlour. And it occurred to me that the gentleman on whose head theBritish had set a price was very considerably inclined toward prudence. 

Now this same gentleman, Major Lockwood, who had been seated behind atable when we entered the parlour, rose and received us most blandly, although I noted that he kept the table between himself and us, andalso that the table drawer was open, where I could have sworn that thepapers so carelessly heaped about covered a brace of pistols. 

For to this sorry pass the Westchester folk had come, that they trustedno stranger, nor were like to for many a weary day to come. Nor could Iblame this gentleman with a heavy price on his head, and, as I heardlater, already the object of numerous and violent attempts in which, attimes, entire regiments had been employed to take him. 

But after he had carefully read the letter which Boyd bore from ourGeneral of Brigade, he asked us to be seated, and shut the tabledrawer, and came over to the silk-covered sofa on which we had seatedourselves. 

"Do you know the contents of this letter?" he asked Boyd bluntly. 

"Yes, Major Lockwood. "

"And does Mr. Loskiel know, also?"

"Yes, sir, " I answered. 

The Major sat musing, turning over and over the letter between thumband forefinger. 

He was a man, I should say, of forty or a trifle more, with brown eyeswhich sometimes twinkled as though secretly amused, even when his facewas gravest and most composed; a gentleman of middle height, of goodfigure and straight, and of manners so simple that the charm of themstruck one afterward as a pleasant memory. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, looking up at us from his momentary abstraction, "for the first part of General Clinton's letter I must be brief withyou and very frank. There are no recruits to be had in this vicinityfor Colonel Morgan's Rifles. Riflemen are of the elite; and our bestcharacters and best shots are all enlisted--or dead or in prison----"He made a significant gesture toward the south. And we thought of thePrison Ships and the Provost, and sat silent. 

"There is, " he added, "but one way, and that is to pick riflemen fromour regiments here; and I am not sure that the law permits it in theinfantry. It would be our loss, if we lose our best shots to yourdistinguished corps; but of course that is not to be considered if theinterests of the land demand it. However, if I am not mistaken, arecruiting party is to follow you. "

"Yes, Major. "

"Then, sir, you may report accordingly. And now for the other matters. General Clinton, in this letter, recommends that we speak very freelytogether. So I will be quite frank, gentlemen. The man you seek, LutherKinnicut, is a spy whom our Committee of Safety maintains within thelines of the lower party. If it be necessary I can communicate withhim, but it may take a week. Might I ask why you desire to question himso particularly?"

Boyd said: "There is a Siwanois Indian, one Mayaro, a Sagamore, withwhom we have need to speak. General Clinton believes that this manKinnicut knows his whereabouts. "

"I believe so, too, " said the Major smiling. "But I ask your pardon, gentlemen; the Sagamore, Mayaro, although a Siwanois, was adopted bythe Mohicans, and should be rated one. "

"Do you know him, sir?"

"Very well indeed. May I inquire what it is you desire of Mayaro?"

"This, " said Boyd slowly; "and this is the real secret with which I amcharged--a secret not to be entrusted to paper--a secret which you, sir, and even my comrade, Mr. Loskiel, now learn for the first time. May I speak with safety in this room, Major?"

The Major rose, opened the door into the hall, dismissed the sentry, closed and locked the door, and returned to us. 

"I am, " he said smiling, "almost ashamed to make so much circumstanceover a small matter of which you have doubtless heard. I mean that thelower party has seen fit to distinguish me by placing a price upon myvery humble head; and as I am not only Major in Colonel Thomas'sregiment, but also a magistrate, and also, with my friend Lewis Morris, a member of the Provincial Assembly, and of the Committee of Safety, Icould not humour the lower party by permitting them to capture so manyimportant persons in one net, " he added, laughing. "Now, sir, prayproceed. I am honoured by General Clinton's confidence. "

"Then, sir, " said Boyd very gravely, "this is the present matter as itstands. His Excellency has decided on a daring stroke to be deliveredimmediately; General Sullivan has been selected to deal it, GeneralClinton is to assist. A powerful army is gathering at Albany, andanother at Easton and Tioga. The enemy know well enough that we areconcentrating, and they have guessed where the blow is to be struck. But, sir, they have guessed wrong!"

"Not Canada, then?" inquired the Major quietly. 

"No, sir. We demonstrate northward; that is all. Then we wheel west bysouth and plunge straight into the wilderness, swift as an arrow files, directly at the heart of the Long House!"

"Sir!" he exclaimed, astonished. 

"Straight at the heart o! the Iroquois Confederacy, Major! That is whatis to be done--clean out, scour out, crush, annihilate those hell-bornnations which have so long been terrorizing the Northland. MajorLockwood, you have read in the New England and Pennsylvania papers howwe have been threatened, how we have been struck, how we have foughtand suffered. But you, sir, have only heard; you have not seen. So Imust tell you now that it is far worse with us than we have admitted. The frontier of New York State is already in ashes; the scalp yellrings in our forests day and night; and the red destructives underBrant, and the painted Tories under Walter Butler, spare neither agenor sex--for I myself have seen scalps taken from the tender heads ofcradled infants--nay, I have seen them scalp the very hound on guard atthe cabin door! And that is how it goes with us, sir. God save you, here, from the blue-eyed Indians!"

He stopped, hesitated, then, softly smiting one fist within the other:

"But now I think their doom is sounding--Seneca, lying Cayuga, traitorous Onondaga, Mohawk, painted renegade--all are to go down intoutter annihilation. Nor is that all. We mean to sweep their empire fromend to end, burn every town, every castle, every orchard, every grainfield--lay waste, blacken, ravage, leave nothing save wind-blown ashesof that great Confederacy, and of the vast granary which has fed theBritish northern armies so long. Nothing must remain of the Long House;the Senecas shall die at the Western door; the Keepers of the Easterndoor shall die. Only the Oneida may be spared--as many as have remainedneutral or loyal to us--they and such of the Tuscaroras andLenni-Lenape as have not struck us; and the Stockbridge and WhitePlains tribes, and the remnants of the Mohicans. 

"And that is why we have come here for riflemen, and that is why we arehere to find the Sagamore, Mayaro. For our Oneidas have told us that heknows where the castles of the Long House lie, and that he can guideour army unerringly to that dark, obscure and fearsome Catharines-townwhere the hag, Montour, reigns in her shaggy wilderness. "

There was a long silence; and I for one, amazed at what I hadheard--for I had made certain that we were to have struck atCanada--was striving to reconcile this astounding news with all mypreconceived ideas. Yet, that is ever the way with us in the regiments;we march, not knowing whither; we camp at night not knowing why. Unseenauthority moves us, halts us; unseen powers watch us, waking andsleeping, think for us, direct our rising and our lying down, our goingforth and our return--nay, the invisible empire envelops us utterly insickness and in health, ruling when and how much we eat and sleep, controlling every hour and prescribing our occupation for every minute. Only our thoughts remain free; and these, as we are not dumb, unthinking beasts, must rove afield to seek for the why and wherefore, garnering conclusions which seldom if ever are corroborated. 

So I; for I had for months now made sure that our two armies in theNorth were to be flung pell mell on Quebec and on Niagara. Onlyregarding the latter place had I nearly hit the mark; for it seemedreasonable that our army, having once swept the Long House, couldscarcely halt ere we had cleaned out that rat's nest of Indians andpainted Tories which is known as Fort Niagara, and from which everydreadful raid of the destructives into Tryon County had been plannedand executed. 

Thinking of these things, my deep abstraction was broken by thepleasant voice of Major Lockwood. 

"Mr. Boyd, " he said, "I realise now how great is your need of riflemento fill the State's quota. If there is anything I or my associates cando, under the law, it shall be done; and when we are able toconcentrate, and when your recruiting party arrives, I will do what Ican, if permitted, to select from the dragoons of Sheldon and Moylan, and from my own regiment such men as may, by marksmanship andcharacter, qualify for the corps d'élite. "

He rose and began to pace the handsome parlour, evidently worried andperplexed; and presently he halted before us, who had of course risenin respect. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "I must lay bare to you our military necessity, embarrassment, and mortification in this country of Westchester, sothat you may clearly understand the difficulty of furnishing therecruits you ask for. 

"South of us, from New York to North Castle, our enemy is inpossession. We are attempting to hold this line; but it is a vastcountry. We can count on very few Continental troops; our militia hasits various rendezvous, and it turns out at every call. The fewcompanies of my regiment of foot are widely scattered; one company lefthere as escort to the military train an hour ago. Sheldon's 2nd LightDragoons are scattered all over the country. Two troops andheadquarters remain now here at my house. "

He waved his hand westward: "So desperate is our condition, gentlemen, that Colonel Moylan's Dragoons have been ordered here, and are at thismoment, I suppose, on the march to join us. And--I ask you, gentlemen--considering that in New York City, just below us, there areten thousand British regulars, not counting the partizan corps, theirregulars, the Tory militia, the numberless companies of marauders--Iask you how you can expect to draw recruits from the handful of men whohave been holding--or striving to hold--this line for the last threeyears!"

Boyd shook his head in silence. As for me, it was not my place tospeak, nor had I anything to suggest. 

After a moment the Major said, more cheerfully:

"Well, well, gentlemen, who knows after all? We may find ways andmeans. And now, one other matter remains to be settled, and I think Imay aid you. "

He went to the door and opened it. The sentry who stood across the hallcame to him instantly and took his orders; and in a few moments thereentered the room four gentlemen to whom we were made known by MajorLockwood. One of these was our Captain of Minute Men. They were, inorder, Colonel Sheldon, a fretful gentleman with a face which seemed tome weak, almost stupid; Colonel Thomas, an iron-grey, silent officer, stern but civil; Captain William Fancher, a Justice of the Peace, Judgeof the Court of Common Pleas, and holding his commission as Captain ofMinute Men; and a Mr. Alsop Hunt, a Quaker, son-in-law of MajorLockwood, and a most quiet and courteous gentleman. 

With one accord we drew chairs around the handsome centre table, wheresilver candlesticks glimmered and a few books lay in their fine, gildedbindings. 

It was very evident to us that in the hands of these five gentlemen laythe present safety of Westchester County, military and civil. And tothem Major Lockwood made known our needs--not, however, disturbing themin their preconceived notion, so common everywhere, that the blow to bestruck from the North was to be aimed at the Canadas. 

Colonel Sheldon's weak features turned red and he said almost peevishlythat no recruits could be picked up in Westchester, and that we had hadour journey for our pains. Anyway, he'd be damned if he'd permitrecruiting for riflemen among his dragoons, it being contrary to lawand common sense. 

"I've a dozen young fellows who might qualify, " said Colonel Thomasbluntly, "but if the law permits Mr. Boyd to take them my regiment'svolleys wouldn't stop a charge of chipmunks!"

We all laughed a little, and Captain Fancher said:

"Minute Men are Minute Men, Mr. Boyd. You are welcome to any you canenlist from my company. "

Alsop Hunt, being a Quaker, and personally opposed to physicalviolence, offered no suggestion until the second object of our visitwas made known. Then he said, very quietly:

"Mayaro, the Mohican Sagamore, is in this vicinity. "

"How do you know that, Alsop?" asked Major Lockwood quickly. 

"I saw him yesterday. "

"Here in Poundridge?"

Mr. Hunt glanced at Colonel Thomas, then with a slight colour mountingto his temples:

"The Sagamore was talking to one of the camp-women last evening--towardsundown on the Rock Hills. We were walking abroad for the air, my wifeand I----" he turned to Major Lockwood: "Betsy whispered to me, 'Thereis a handsome wench talking to an Indian!' And I saw the Sagamorestanding in the sunset light, conversing with one of the camp-women whohang about Colonel Thomas's regiment. ". 

"Would you know the slattern again?" asked Colonel Thomas, scowling. 

"I think so, Colonel. And to tell the truth she was scarce a slattern, whatever else she may be--a young thing--and it seemed sad to us--to mywife and me. "

"And handsome?" inquired Boyd, smiling at me. 

"I may not deny it, sir, " said Mr. Hunt primly. "The child possessedconsiderable comeliness. "

"Why, " said Boyd to me, laughingly, "she may be the wench you sogallantly rescued an hour since. " And he told the story gayly enough, and with no harm meant; but it embarrassed and annoyed me. 

"If the wench knows where the Sagamore may be found, " said MajorLockwood, "it might be well for Mr. Loskiel to look about and try tofind her. "

"Would you know her again?" inquired Colonel Thomas. 

"No, sir, I----" And I stopped short, because what I was about to saywas not true. For, when I had sent the soldiers about their businessand had rejoined Boyd--and when Boyd had bidden me turn again becausethe girl was handsome, there had been no need to turn. I had seen her;and I knew that when he said she was beautiful he said what was true. And the reason I did not turn, to look again was because beauty in sucha woman should inspire no interest in me. 

I now corrected myself, saying coolly enough:

"Yes, Colonel Thomas, on second thought I think I might know her if Isee her. "

"Perhaps, " suggested Captain Fancher, "the wench has gone a-gypsyingafter the convoy. "

"These drabs change lovers over night, " observed Colonel Thomas grimly. "Doubtless Sheldon's troopers are already consoling her. "

Colonel Sheldon, who had been fiddling uneasily with his sword-knot, exclaimed peevishly:

"Good God, sir! Am I also to play chaplain to my command?"

There was a curious look in Colonel Thomas's eyes which seemed to say:"You might play it as well as you play the Colonel;" but Sheldon wastoo stupid and too vain, I think, to perceive any affront. 

And, "Where do you lodge, gentlemen?" inquired our Major, addressing usboth; and when he learned that we were roofless he insisted that weremain under his roof, nor would he hear of any excuses touching thepresent unsuitability of our condition and attire. 

"Gentlemen, gentlemen! I will not accept a refusal, " he said. "We areplain folk and live plainly, and both bed and board are at yourdisposal. Lord, sir! And what would Clinton think were I to send twoofficers of his corps d'élite to a village ordinary!"

We had all risen and were moving toward the door. A black servant camewhen the Major pulled the bell card, and showed Boyd and myself to twopretty chambers, small, but very neat, where the linen on the bedssmelled fresh and sweet, and the westering sun struck golden throughchintz curtains drawn aside. 

"Gad!" said Boyd, eying the bed. "It's long since my person has beenintimately acquainted with sheet and pillow. What a pretty nest, Loskiel. Lord! And here's a vase of posies, too! The touchfeminine--who could mistake it in the sweet, fresh whiteness of thislittle roam!"

Presently came our rifleman, Jack Mount, bearing our saddle-bags; andwe stripped and washed us clean, and put on fresh linen and our bestuniforms of soft doeskin, which differed from the others only in thatthey were clean and new, and that the thrums were gayer and theIroquois beadwork more flamboyant. 

"If I but had my hair in a snug club, and well powdered, " sighed Boyd, lacing his shirt. "And I tell you, Loskiel, though I would not boast, this accursed rifle-shirt and these gaudy leggings conceal a supplebody and a leg as neatly turned as any figure more fortunately clothedin silken coat and stockings!"

I began to laugh, and he laughed, too, vowing he envied me my hair, which was yellow and which curled of itself so that it needed no powder. 

I can see him yet, standing there in the sunshine, both hands grippinghis dark hair in pretense of grief, and vowing that he had a mind toscalp himself for very vexation. Alas! That I remember now such idlewords, spoken in the pride and strength and gayety of youth! And alwayswhen I think of him I remember his dread of fire--the only fear he everknew. These things--his brown eyes and quick, gay smile--his lithe andsupple person--and his love of women--these I remember always, evenwhile already much that concerned this man and me begins to fade withthe stealthy years. 

While the sun still hung high in the west, and ere any hint of eveningwas heard either in the robin's note or from the high-soaring martins, we had dressed. Boyd went away first, saying carelessly that he meantto look to the horses before paying his respects to the ladies. Alittle later I descended, a black servant conducting me to the familysitting room. 

Here our gallant Major made me known to his lady and to his numerousfamily--six young children, and still a seventh, the pretty maid whomwe had seen on approaching the house, who proved to be a marrieddaughter. Betsy, they called her--and she was only seventeen, but hadbeen two years the wife of Alsop Hunt. 

As for the Major's lady, who seemed scarce thirty and was six yearsolder, she so charmed me with her grace, and with the bright courageshe so sweetly maintained in a home which every hour of the day andnight menaced, that even Mrs. Hunt, with her gay spirits, imperiousbeauty, and more youthful attractions, no more than shared myadmiration for her mother. 

In half an hour Lieutenant Boyd came in, was presented, and paid hishomage gayly, as he always did. Yet, I thought a slight cloud rested onhis brow, but this soon passed, and I forgot it. 

So we talked of this and that as lightly as though no danger threatenedthis house; and Boyd was quickly at his best with the ladies. As forme, I courted the children. And I remember there were two little maidsof fourteen and eleven, Ruhannah and Hannah, sweet and fresh as wildJune roses, who showed me the tow cloth for our army which they werespinning, and blushed at my praise of their industry. And there wasMary, ten, and Clarissa, eight, and two little boys, one a baby--allsave the last two children carding or spinning flax and tow. 

It was not easy to understand that this blooming matron could be motherof all of these, so youthful she seemed in her Quaker-cut gown ofdove-colour--though it was her handsome, high-spirited daughter whoshould have worn the sober garb. 

"Not I, " said she, laughing at Boyd. "I'd sooner don jack-boots and bea dragoon--and we would completely represent a holy cause, my husbandwith his broad-brim and I with my sword. What do you say, Mr. Boyd?"

"I beg of you first to consider the rifle-frock if you must enlist!"urged Boyd, with such fervour that we all laughed at his gallant effortto recruit such beauty for our corps; for even a mental picture ofBetsy Hunt in rifle-frock seemed too adorable. Mr. Hunt, entering, smiled in his quiet, embarrassed way; and I thought that this wise andgentle-mannered man must have more than a handful in his spirited youngwife, whose dress was anything but plain. 

I had taken the tiny maid, Clarissa, upon my knees and was telling herof the beauty of our Northland, and of that great, dusky green ocean ofgiant pines, vast as the sea and as silent and uncharted, when MajorLockwood bent over me saying in a quiet voice that it might be well forme to look about in the town for the wench who knew the whereabouts ofMayaro. 

"While there is still daylight, " he added, as I set Clarissa on thefloor and stood up, "and if she be yet here you should find her beforesupper time. We sup at six, Mr. Loskiel. "

I bowed, took leave of the ladies, exchanged an irritated glance forBoyd's significant grin, and went out to the porch, putting on my lightround cap of moleskin. I liked neither my present errand, nor Boyd'ssmile either. 

Now, I had not thought to take with me my side-arms, but a slave waitedat the door with my belt. And as I buckled it and hung war-axe andheavy hunting blade, I began to comprehend something of the imminentdanger which so apparently lurked about this country. For all militarymen hereabouts went armed; and even in the house I had noticed thatMajor Lockwood wore his sword, as did the other officers--some evencarrying their pistols. 

The considerable throng of people whom we had first seen in theneighborhood of the house had scattered or gone off when the infantryhad left. Carpenters were still sawing and hammering on the flimsy newbarracks down in the meadow, and there seemed to be a few people there. But on strolling thither I saw nothing of the wench; so turned on myheel and walked briskly up the road. 

About the village itself there was nothing to be seen of the girl, nordid I know how to make inquiries--perhaps dreading to do so lest myquest be misunderstood or made a jest of by some impertinent fellow. 

In the west a wide bank of cloud had pushed up over the horizon and wasalready halving the low-hanging sun, which presently it entirelyswallowed; and the countryside grew luminously grey and that intensegreen tinged the grass, which is with us the forerunner of anapproaching storm. 

But I thought it far off, not then knowing the Hudson's midsummerhabits, nor the rapid violence of the July storms it hatches and drivesroaring among the eastern hills and across the silvery Sound. 

So, with a careless glance aloft, I pursued my errand, strolling hitherand thither through the pleasant streets and lanes of old Poundridge, always approaching any groups of soldiers that I saw because I thoughtit likely that the wench might haunt her kind. 

I did not find her; and presently I began to believe it likely that shehad indeed gone off a-gypsying after the escort companies towardLewisboro. 

There is a road which, skirting the Stone Hills, runs east by northbetween Cross Pond and the Three Lakes; and, pursuing it, I came on avidette of Sheldon's regiment, most carelessly set where he could seenothing, and yet be seen a mile away. 

Supposing he would halt me, I walked up to him; and he continued tomunch the green bough-apple he was eating, making me a most slovenlysalute. 

Under his leather helmet I saw that my dragoon was but a child offifteen--scarce strong enough to swing the heavy sabre at his pommel ormanage the sawed-off musket which he bore, the butt resting wearily onhis thigh. And it made me sober indeed to see to what a pass ourcountry had come, that we enlisted boys and were obliged to trust totheir ignorance for our protection. 

"It will rain before sundown, " he said, munching on his apple; "bestseek shelter, sir. When it comes it will come hard. "

"Where runs this road?" I asked. 

"To Boutonville. "

"And what is Boutonville?"

"It's where the Boutons live--a mile or two north, sir. They're a wildparcel. "

"Are they of our party?"

"Oh, yes, sir. But they hunt the leather-caps as we hunt quail--scareup a company, fire, and then track down the scattered. "

"Oh; irregulars. "

"No, sir, not skinners. They farm it until the British plague thembeyond endurance. Then, " he added significantly, "they go a-huntingwith their dogs. "

I had already turned to retrace my steps when it occurred to me thatperhaps an inquiry of this lad might not be misunderstood. 

So I walked up to his horse and stood caressing the sorry animal whileI described to him the wench I was seeking. 

"Yes, sir, " he said seriously, "that's the one the boys are everplaguing to make her rage. "

"Do you know her?"

"By sight, yes, sir. "

"She is one of the camp followers, I take it, " said I carelessly. 

"I don't know. The boys are ever plaguing her. She came from the Norththey say. All I know is that in April she was first seen here, loitering about the camp where the White Plains Indians were embodied. But she did not go off with the Continentals. "

"She was loitering this afternoon by the camp of Colonel Thomas's men, "I said. 

"Very like, sir. Did the men plague her?"

"Yes. "

He bit into his apple, unconcerned:

"They are all after her. But I never saw her kind to any man--whatevershe may be. "

Why, I did not know, but what he said gave me satisfaction. 

"You do not know which way she went?" I asked. 

"No, sir. I have been here but the half hour. She knows the Bouton boysyonder. I have seen her coming and going on this road, sometimes withan Indian----"

"With a Sagamore?"

He continued his munching. Having swallowed what he chewed, he said:

"I know nothing of savages or Sagamores. The Indian may have been aSagamore. "

"Do you know where he is to be found?"

"No, sir, I do not. "

"Perhaps this young girl knows?"

"Doubtless she does, seeing she journeys about with him on the ridgeyonder, which we call the Rock Hills. "

"Do you know her name, soldier?"

"They call her Lois, I believe. "

And that was all the news I could get of her; and I thanked the boy andslowly started to retrace my steps toward the village. 

Already in the air there was something of that stillness which heraldsstorms; no leaves on bush and tree were now stirring; land and sky hadgrown sombre all around me; and the grass glimmered intensely green. 

Where the road skirted the Stone Hills were no houses, nothing, infact, of human habitation to be seen save low on the flank of the rockyrampart a ruined sugar house on the edge of a maple ridge, I do notknow what made me raise my head to give it a second glance, but I did;and saw among the rocks near it a woman moving. 

Nor do I know, even now, how at that distance and in the dusk of acoming storm I could perceive that it was she whom I was now seeking. But so certain was I of this that, without even taking thought toconsider, I left the highway, turned to the right, and began to mountthe hillside where traces of a path or sheep-walk were faintly visibleunder foot among the brambles. Once or twice I glanced upward to seewhether she observed me, but the scrubby foliage now hid her as well asthe sap-house, and I hastened because the light was growing very dimnow, and once or twice, far away, I thought I heard the muttering ofthunder. 

It was not long before I perceived the ramshackle sap-house ahead of meamong the maples. Then I caught sight of her whom I was seeking. 

It was plain that she had not yet discovered me, though she heard memoving in the thicket. She stood in a half-crouching, listeningattitude, then slowly began to retreat, not cowering, but sullenly andwith a certain defiance in her lithe movement, like some disturbed andgraceful animal which is capable of defending itself but prefers to getaway peaceably if permitted. 

I stepped out into the clearing and called to her through theincreasing gloom; and for a moment thought she had gone. Then I sawher, dimly, watching me from the obscurity of the dark doorway. 

"You need have no fear of me, " I called to her pleasantly. "You know menow, do you not?"

She made no answer; and I approached the doorway and stood peering intoher face through the falling twilight. And for a moment I thought I hadbeen mistaken; but it was she after all. 

Yet now she wore neither the shabby chip hat with its soiled blueribbon tied beneath her chin, nor any trace of hair powder, nor dottedkerchief cross-fastened at her breast and pinned with the withered rose. 

And she seemed younger and slimmer and more childish than I had thoughther, her bosom without its kerchief meagre or unformed, and her cheeksnot painted either, but much burned by the July sun. Nor were her eyesblack, as I had supposed, but a dark, clear grey with black lashes; andher unpowdered hair seemed to be a reddish-chestnut and scarce longerthan my own, but more curly. 

"Child, " I said, smiling at her, I know not why, "I have been searchingfor you ever since I first saw you----"

And: "What do you want of me?" said she, scarce moving her lips. 

"A favour. "

"Best mount your cobbler's mare and go a-jogging back, my pretty lad. "

The calm venom in her voice and her insolent grey eyes took me abackmore than her saucy words. 

"Doubtless, " I said, "you have not recognized in me the officer who wasat some slight pains to be of service----"

"What is it you desire?" said she, so rudely that I felt my face burnhot. 

"See here, my lass, " said I sharply, "you seem to misunderstand myerrand here. "

"And am like to, " said she, "unless you make your errand short andplainer--though I have learned that the errands which bring such men asyou to me are not too easily misunderstood. "

"Such men as I----"

"You and your friend with the bold, black eyes. Ask him how much changehe had of me when he came back. "

"I did not know he had seen you again, " said I, still redder. And sawthat she believed me not. 

"Birds sing; men lie, " said she. "So if----"

"Be silent! Do you hear!" I cut her short with such contempt that I sawthe painful colour whip her cheeks and her eyes quiver. 

Small doubt that what she had learned of men had not sweetened her nortaught her confidence. But whatever she had been, and whatever she was, after all concerned not me that I should take pains to silence her sobrutally. 

"I am sorry I spoke as I did, " said I, "--however mistaken you areconcerning my seeking you here. "

She said nothing. 

"Also, " I added, with a sudden resurgance of bitterness that surprisedmyself, "my conduct earlier in your behalf might have led you to awiser judgment. "

"I am wise enough--after my own fashion, " she said indifferently. 

"Does a man save and then return to destroy?"

"Many a hunter has saved many a spotted fawn from wolf and fox--so hemight kill it himself, one day. "

"You do yourself much flattery, young woman, " I said, so unpleasantlythat again the hot colour touched her throat and brow. 

"I reason as I have been taught, " she said defiantly. "Doubtless youare self-instructed. "

"No; men have taught me. You witnessed, I believe, one lesson. And yourcomrade gave me still another. "

"I care to witness nothing, " I said, furious; "far less desire toattempt your education. Is all plain now?"

"Your words are, " she said, with quiet contempt. 

"My words are one with my intention, " said I, angrily; far in spite ofmy own indifference and contempt, hers was somehow arousing me with itsseparate sting hidden in every word she uttered. "And now, " Icontinued, "all being plain and open between us, let me acquaint youwith the sole object of my visit here to you. "

She shrugged her shabby shoulders and waited, her eyes, her expression, her very attitude indifferent, yet dully watchful. 

"You know the Sagamore, Mayaro?" I asked. 

"You say so. "

"Where is he to be found?" I continued patiently. 

"Why do you desire to know?"

The drab was exasperating me, and I think I looked it, for theslightest curl of her sullen lips hinted a scornful smile. 

"Come, come, my lass, " said I, with all the patience I could stillcommand, "there is a storm approaching, and I do not wish to get wet. Answer my civil question and I'll thank you and be off about mybusiness. Where is this Sagamore to be found?"

"Why do you wish to know?"

"Because I desire to consult him concerning certain matters. "

"What matters?"

"Matters which do not concern you!" I snapped out. 

"Are you sure of that, pretty boy?"

"Am I sure?" I repeated, furious. "What do you mean? Will you answer anhonest question or not?"

"Why do you desire to see this Sagamore?" she repeated so obstinatelythat I fairly clenched my teeth. 

"Answer me, " I said. "Or had you rather I fetched a file of men uphere?"

"Fetch a regiment, and I shall tell you nothing unless I choose. "

"Good God, what folly!" I exclaimed. "For whom and for what do you takeme, then, that you refuse to answer the polite and harmless question ofan American officer!"

"You had not so named yourself. "

"Very well, then; I am Euan Loskiel, Ensign in Morgan's rifle regiment!"

"You say so. "

"Do you doubt it?"

"Birds sing, " she said. Suddenly she stepped from the dark doorway, came to where I stood, bent forward and looked me very earnestly in theeyes--so closely that something--her nearness--I know not what--seemedto stop my heart and breath for a second. 

Then, far on the western hills lightning glimmered; and after a longwhile it thundered. 

"Do you wish me to find this Sagamore for you?" she asked very quietly. 

"Will you do so?"

A drop of rain fell; another, which struck her just where the cheekcurved under the long black lashes, fringing them with brilliancy liketears. 

"Where do you lodge?" she asked, after a silent scrutiny of me. 

"This night I am a guest at Major Lockwood's. Tomorrow I travel northagain with my comrade, Lieutenant Boyd. "

She was looking steadily at me all the time; finally she said:

"Somehow, I believe you to be a friend to liberty. I know it--somehow. "

"It is very likely, in this rifle dress I wear, " said I smiling. 

"Yet a man may dress as he pleases. "

"You mistrust me for a spy?"

"If you are, why, you are but one more among many hereabouts. I thinkyou have not been in Westchester very long. It does not matter. No boywith the face you wear was born to betray anything more important thana woman. "

I turned hot and scarlet with chagrin at her cool presumption--andwould not for worlds have had her see how the impudence stung andshamed me. 

For a full minute she stood there watching me; then:

"I ask pardon, " she said very gravely. 

And somehow, when she said it I seemed to experience a sense ofinferiority--which was absurd and monstrous, considering what shedoubtless was. 

It had now begun to rain in very earnest; and was like to rain harderere the storm passed. My clothes being my best, I instinctively steppedinto the doorway; and, of a sudden, she was there too, barring myentry, flushed and dangerous, demanding the reason of my intrusion. 

"Why, " said I astonished, "may I not seek shelter from a storm in aruined sugar-house, without asking by your leave?"

"This sap-house is my own dwelling!" she said hotly. "It is where Ilive!"

"Oh, Lord, " said I, bewildered, "--if you are like to take offense ateverything I say, or look, or do, I'll find a hospitable treesomewhere----"

"One moment, sir----"

"Well?"

She stood looking at me in the doorway, then slowly dropped her eyes, and in the same law voice I had heard once before:

"I ask your pardon once again, " she said. "Please to come inside--andclose the door. An open door draws lightning. "

It was already drawing the rain in violent gusts. 

The thunder began to bang with that metallic and fizzling tone which ittakes on when the bolts fall very near; flash after flash of violetlight illuminated the shack at intervals, and the rafters trembled asthe black shadows buried us. 

"Have you a light hereabout?" I asked. 

"No, "

For ten minutes or more the noise of the storm made it difficult tohear or speak. I could scarce see her now in the gloom. And so wewaited there in silence until the roar of the rain began to die away, and it slowly grew lighter outside and the thunder grew more distant. 

I went to the door, looked out into the dripping woods, and turned toher. 

"When will you bring the Sagamore to me?" I demanded. 

"I have not promised. "

"But you will?"

She waited a while, then:

"Yes, I will bring him. "

"When?"

"Tonight. "

"You promise?"

"Yes. "

"And if it rains again''

"It will rain all night, but I shall send you the Sagamore. Best go, sir. The real tempest is yet to break. It hangs yonder above theHudson. But you have time to gain the Lockwood House. "

I said to her, with a slight but reassuring smile, most kindly intended:

"Now that I am no longer misunderstood by you, I may inform you that inwhat you do for me you serve our common country. " It did not seem apompous speech to me. 

"If I doubted that, " she said, "I had rather pass the knife you weararound my throat than trouble myself to oblige you. "

Her words, and the quiet, almost childish voice, seemed so oddly atvariance that I almost laughed; but changed my mind. 

"I should never ask a service of you for myself alone, " I said socurtly that the next moment I was afraid I had angered her, and fearingshe might not keep her word to me, smiled and frankly offered her myhand. 

Very slowly she put forth her own--a hand stained and roughened, butslim and small. And so I went away through the dripping bush, and downthe rocky hill. A slight sense of fatigue invaded me; and I did notthen understand that it came from my steady and sustained efforts toignore what any eyes could not choose but see--this young girl'sbeauty--yes, despite her sorry mien and her rags--a beauty that wasfashioned to trouble men; and which was steadily invading my senseswhether I would or no. 

Walking along the road and springing over the puddles, I thought tomyself that it was small wonder such a wench was pestered in a commonsoldier's camp. For she had about her everything to allure the grosserclass--a something--indescribable perhaps--but which even such a man asI had become unwillingly aware of. And I must have been very consciousof it, for it made me restless and vaguely ashamed that I shouldcondescend so far as even to notice it. More than that, it annoyed menot a little that I should bestow any thought upon this creature atall; but what irritated me most was that Boyd had so demeaned himselfas to seek her out behind my back. 

When I came to the manor house, it had already begun to rain again; andeven as I entered the house, a tempest of rain and wind burst once moreover the hills with a violence I had scarcely expected. 

Encountering Major Lockwood and Lieutenant Boyd in the hall, I scowledat the latter askance, but remembered my manners, and smoothed my faceand told them of my success. 

"Rain or no, " said I, "she has promised me to send this Sagamore heretonight. And I am confident she will keep her word. "

"Which means, " said Boyd, with an unfeigned sigh, "that we travel northtomorrow. Lord! How sick am I of saddle and nag and the open road. Yourkindly hospitality, Major, has already softened me so that I scarceknow how to face the wilderness again. "

And at supper, that evening, Boyd frankly bemoaned his lot, and Mrs. Lockwood condoled with him; but Betsy Hunt turned up her pretty nose, declaring that young men were best off in the woods, which kept themout o' mischief. She did not know the woods. 

And after supper, as she and my deceitful but handsome lieutenantlingered by the stairs, I heard her repeat it again, utterly refusingto say she was sorry or that she commiserated his desperate lot. But onher lips hovered a slight and provoking smile, and her eyes were verybrilliant under her powdered hair. 

All women liked Boyd; none was insensible to his charm. Handsome, gay, amusing--and tender, alas!--too often--few remained indifferent to thisyoung man, and many there were who found him difficult to forget afterhe had gone his careless way. But I was damning him most heartily forthe prank he played me. 

I sat in the parlour talking to Mrs. Lockwood. The babies were longsince in bed; the elder children now came to make their reverences totheir mother and father, and so very dutifully to every guest. A fatblack woman in turban and gold ear-hoops fetched them away; and thehouse seemed to lose a trifle of its brightness with the children'sgoing. 

Major Lockwood sat writing letters on a card-table, a cluster of tallcandles at his elbow; Mr. Hunt was reading; his wife and Boyd stilllingered on the stairs, and their light, quick laughter soundedprettily at moments. 

Mrs. Lockwood, I remember, had been sewing while she and I conversedtogether. The French alliance was our topic; and she was still speakingof the pleasure it had given all when Lewis Morris brought to her houseyoung Lafayette. Then, of a sudden, she turned her head sharply, asthough listening. 

Through the roar of the storm I thought I heard the gallop of a horse. Major Lockwood lifted his eyes from his letters, fixing them on therain-washed window. 

Certainly a horseman had now pulled up at our very porch; Mr. Hunt laidaside his book very deliberately and walked to the parlour door, and amoment later the noise of the metal knocker outside rang loudly throughthe house. 

We were now all rising and moving out into the hall, as though a commoninstinct of coming trouble impelled us. The black servant opened; adrenched messenger stood there, blinking in the candle light. 

Major Lockwood went to him instantly, and drew him in the door; andthey spoke together in low and rapid tones. 

Mrs. Lockwood murmured in my ear:

"It's one of Luther's men. There is bad news for us from below, Iwarrant you. "

We heard the Major say:

"You will instantly acquaint Colonels Thomas and Sheldon with thisnews. Tell Captain Fancher, too, in passing. "

The messenger turned away into the storm, and Major Lockwood calledafter him:

"Is there no news of Moylan's regiment?"

"None, sir, " came the panting answer; there ensued a second's silence, a clatter of slippery hoofs, then only the loud, dull roar of the rainfilled the silence. 

The Major, who still stood at the door, turned around and glanced athis wife. 

"What is it, dear--if we may know?" asked she, quite calmly. 

"Yes, " he said, "you should know, Hannah. And it may not be true, but--somehow, I think it is. Tarleton is out. "

"Is he headed this way, Ebenezer?" asked Mr. Hunt, after a shockedsilence. 

"Why--yes, so they say. Luther Kinnicut sends the warning. It seems tobe true. "

"Tarleton has heard, no doubt, that Sheldon's Horse is concentratinghere, " said Mr. Hunt. "But I think it better for thee to leave, Ebenezer. "

Mrs. Lockwood went over to her husband and laid her hand on his sleevelightly. The act, and her expression, were heart-breaking, and not tobe mistaken. She knew; and we also now surmised that if the LegionCavalry was out, it was for the purpose of taking the man who stoodthere before our eyes. Doubtless he was quite aware of it, too, butmade no mention of it. 

"Alsop, " he said, turning to his son-in-law, "best take the moredamaging of the papers and conceal them as usual. I shall presently bebusied with Thomas and Sheldon, and may have no time for such details. "

"Will they make a stand, do you think?" I whispered to Boyd, "or shallwe be sent a-packing?"

"If there be not too many of them I make a guess that Sheldon's Horsewill stand. "

"And what is to be our attitude?"

"Stand with them, " said he, laughing, though he knew well that we hadbeen cautioned to do our errand and keep clear of all brawls. 

CHAPTER III

VIEW HALLOO!

It rained, rained, rained, and the darkness and wind combined with theuproar of the storm to make venturing abroad well nigh impossible. Yet, an orderly, riding at hazard, managed to come up with a hundred of theContinental foot, convoying the train, and, turning them in theirslopping tracks, start back with them through a road running shin-highin mud and water. 

Messengers, also, were dispatched to call out the district militia, andthey plodded all night with their lanterns, over field and path andlonely country road. 

As for Colonel Sheldon, booted, sashed, and helmeted, he sat apatheticand inert in the hall, obstinately refusing to mount his men. 

"For, " says he, "it will only soak their powder and their skins, andnobody but a fool would ride hither in such a storm. And Tarleton is nofool, nor am I, either; and that's flat!" It was not as flat as his ownforehead. 

"Do you mean that I am a fool to march my men back here fromLewisboro?" demanded Colonel Thomas sharply, making to rise from hisseat by the empty fireplace. 

Duels had sprung from less provocation than had been given by ColonelSheldon. Mr. Hunt very mildly interposed; and a painful scene wasnarrowly averted because of Colonel Thomas's cold contempt for Sheldon, which I think Captain Fancher shared. 

Major Lockwood, coming in at the moment, flung aside his drippingriding cloak. 

"Sir, " said he to Sheldon, "the rumour that the Legion is abroad hasreached your men, and they are saddling in my barns. "

"What damned nonsense!" exclaimed Sheldon, in a pet; and, rising, strode heavily to the door, but met there his Major, one BenjaminTallmadge, coming in, all over mud. 

This fiery young dragoon's plume, helmet, and cloak were dripping, andhe impatiently dashed the water from feathers and folds. 

"Sir!" began Colonel Sheldon loudly, "I have as yet given no order tosaddle!"

And, "By God, sir, " says Tallmadge, "the orders must have come fromsomebody, for they're doing it!"

"Sir--sir!" stammered Sheldon, "What d'ye mean by that?"

"Ah!" says Tallmadge coolly, "I mean what I say. Orders must have beengiven by somebody. "

No doubt; for the orders came from himself, the clever trooper that hewas--and so he left Sheldon a-fuming and Major Lockwood and Mr. Huntmost earnestly persuading him to sanction this common and simpleprecaution. 

Why he conducted so stupidly I never knew. It required all the gentlecomposure of Mr. Hunt and all the vigorous logic of Major Lockwood toprevent him from ordering his men to off-saddle and retire to the strawabove the mangers. 

Major Tallmadge and a cornet passed through the hall with theirregimental standard, but Sheldon pettishly bade them to place it in theparlour and await further orders--for no reason whatever, apparently, save to exhibit a petty tyranny. 

And all the while a very forest of candles remained lighted throughoutthe house; only the little children were asleep; the family servantsand slaves remained awake, not daring to go to bed or even to closetheir eyes to all these rumours and uncertainties. 

Colonel Thomas, his iron-grey head sunk on his breast, paced the hall, awaiting the arrival of the two escort companies of his command, yetscarcely hoping for such good fortune, I think, for his keen eyesencountered mine from time to time, and he made me gestures expressiveof angry resignation. 

As for Sheldon, he pouted and sulked on a sofa, and drank mulled wine, peevishly assuring everybody who cared to listen that no attack was tobe apprehended in such a storm, and that Colonel Tarleton and his mennow lay snug abed in New York town, a-grinning in their dreams. 

A few drenched and woe-begone militia men, the pans of their musketswrapped in rags, reported, and were taken in charge by Captain Fancheras a cattle guard for Major Lockwood's herd. 

None of Major Lockwood's messengers were yet returned. Our rifleman hadsaddled our own horses, and had brought them up under one of a row ofsheds which had recently been erected near the house. A pair of smokylanterns hung under the dripping rafters; and by their light Iperceived the fine horses of Major Lockwood, and of Colonels Sheldonand Thomas also, standing near ours, bridled and saddled and held byslaves. 

Mrs. Lockwood sat near the parlour door, quietly sewing, but from timeto time I saw her raise her eyes and watch her husband. Doubtless shewas thinking of those forty golden guineas which were to be paid forthe delivery of his head--perhaps she was thinking of BloodyCunningham, and the Provost, and the noose that dangled in a paintedpagoda betwixt the almshouse and the jail in that accursed British citysouth of us. 

Mrs. Hunt had far less to fear for her quiet lord and master, whocombatted the lower party only with his brains. So she found moreleisure to listen to Boyd's whispered fooleries, and to caution himwith lifted finger, glancing at him sideways; and I saw her bite herlips at times to hide the smile, and tap her slender foot, and bendcloser over her tabouret while her needle flew the faster. 

As for me, my Sagamore had not arrived; and I finally cast a cloakabout me and went out to the horse-sheds, where our rifleman lolled, chewing a lump of spruce and holding our three horses. 

"Well, Jack, " said I, "this is rare weather for Colonel Tarleton's foxhunting. "

"They say he hunts an ass, sir, too, " said Jack Mount under his breath. "And I think it must be so, for there be five score of ColonelSheldon's dragoons in yonder barns, drawing at jack-straws or conningtheir thumbs--and not a vidette out--not so much as a militia picket, save for the minute men which Colonel Thomas and Major Lockwood havesent out afoot. "

There was a certain freedom in our corps, but it never warranted suchimpudent presumption as this; and I sharply rebuked the huge fellow forhis implied disrespect toward Colonel Sheldon. 

"Very well, sir. I will bite off this unmilitary tongue o' mine andfeed it to your horse. Then, sir, if you but ask him, he will tell youvery plainly that none of his four-footed comrades in the barn havecarried a single vidette on their backs even as far as Poundridgevillage, let alone Mile-Square. "

I could scarcely avoid smiling. 

"Do you then, for one, believe that Colonel Tarleton will ventureabroad on such a night?"

"I believe as you do, " said the rifleman coolly, "--being some threeyears or more a soldier of my country. "

"Oh! And what do I believe, Jack?"

"Being an officer who commands as good a soldier as I am, you, sir, believe as I do. "

I was obliged to laugh. 

"Well, Jack--so you agree with me that the Legion Cavalry is out?"

"It is as sure that nested snake's eggs never hatched out rattlers asit is certain that this wild night will hatch out Tarleton!"

"And why is it so certain in your mind, Jack Mount?"

"Lord, Mr. Loskiel, " he said with a lazy laugh, "you know how Mr. Boydwould conduct were he this same Major Tarleton! You know what MajorParr would do--and what you and I and every officer and every man ofMorgan's corps would do on such a night to men of Sheldon's kidney!"

"You mean the unexpected. "

"Yes, sir. And this red fox on horseback, Tarleton, has ever done thesame, and will continue till we stop his loping with a bit o' lead. "

I nodded and looked out into the rain-swept darkness. And I knew thatour videttes should long since have been set far out on every roadtwixt here and Bedford village. 

Captain Fancher passed with a lantern, and I ventured to accost him andmention very modestly my present misgivings concerning our presentsituation. 

"Sir, " said the Captain, dryly, "I am more concerned in this matterthan are you; and I have taken it upon myself to protest to MajorTallmadge, who is at this moment gone once more to Colonel Sheldon withvery serious representations. "

"Lieutenant Boyd and I have volunteered as a scout of three, " I said, "but Colonel Sheldon has declined our services with scant politeness. "

Fancher stood far a moment, his rain-smeared lantern hanging motionlessat his side. 

"Tarleton may not ride tonight, " he said, and moved off a step or two;then, turning: "But, damn him, I think he will, " said he. And walkedaway, swinging his light as furiously as a panther thrashes his tail. 

By the pointers of my watch it now approached three o'clock in themorning, and the storm was nothing abating. I had entirely despaired ofthe Sagamore's coming, and was beginning to consider the sorry picklewhich this alarm must leave us in if Tarleton's Legion came upon usnow; and that with our widely scattered handfuls we could only pullfoot and await another day to find our Sagamore; when, of a suddenthere came a-creeping through the darkness, out o' the very maw of thestorm, a slender shape, wrapped to the eyes in a ragged scarlet cape. Iknew her; but I do not know how I knew her. 

"It is you!" I exclaimed, hastening forward to draw her under shelter. 

She came obediently with me, slipping in between the lanterns and amongthe horses, moving silently at my elbow to the farther shed, which wasempty. 

"You use me very kindly, " I said, "to venture abroad tonight on mybehalf. "

"I am abroad, " she said, "on behalf of my country. "

Only her eyes I could see over the edge of the scarlet cloak, and theyregarded me very coldly. 

"I meant it so, " I said hastily, "What of the Sagamore? Will he come?"

"He will come as I promised you. "

"Here?" I said, delighted. "This very night?"

"Yes, here, this night. "

"How good--how generous you have been!" I exclaimed with a warmth andsincerity that invaded every fibre of me. "And have you come throughthis wild storm all the long way afoot?"

"Yes, " she said, calmly, "afoot. Since when, sir, have beggars riddento a tryst except in pretty fables?"

"Had I known it, I would have taken horse and gone for you and broughtyou here riding pillion behind me. "

"Had I desired you to come for me, Mr. Loskiel, I should not havetroubled you here. "

She loosened the shabby scarlet cloak so that it dropped from below hereyes and left the features exposed. Enough of lantern light from theother shed fell on her face for me to see her smooth, cool cheeks alldewy with the rain, as I had seen them once before in the gloom of thecoming storm. 

She turned her head, glancing back at the other shed where men andhorses stood in grotesque shadow shapes under the windy lantern light;then she looked cautiously around the shed where we stood. 

"Come nearer, " she motioned. 

And once again, as before, my nearness to her seemed for a moment tomeddle with my heart and check it; then, as though to gain the beatsthey lost, every little pulse began to hurry faster. 

She said in a low voice:

"The Sagamore is now closeted with Major Lockwood. I left him at theporch and came out here to warn you. Best go to him now, sir. And Iwill bid you a--good night. "

"Has he business also with Major Lockwood?"

"He has indeed. You will learn presently that the Sagamore came byNorth Castle, and that the roads south of the church are full ofriders--hundreds of them--in jack-boots and helmets. "

"Were their jackets red?"

"He could not tell. They were too closely cloaked, "

"Colonel Moylan's dragoons?" I said anxiously. "Do you think so?"

"The Sagamore did not think so, and dared not ask, but startedinstantly cross-country with the information. I had been waiting tointercept him and bring him here to you, as I promised you, but missedhim on the Bedford road, where he should have passed. Therefore, Ihastened hither to confess to you my failure, and chanced to overtakehim but a moment since, as he crossed the dooryard yonder. "

Even in my growing anxiety, I was conscious of the faithfulness thatthis poor girl had displayed--this ragged child who had stood in thestorm all night long on the Bedford road to intercept the Indian. Faithful, indeed! For, having missed him, she had made her way here onfoot merely to tell me that she could not keep her word to me. 

"Has the Sagamore spoken with Colonel Sheldon?" I asked gently. 

"I do not know. "

"Will you tarry here till I return?"

"Have you further use of me, Mr. Loskiel?"

Her direct simplicity checked me. After all, now that she had done hererrand, what further use had I for her? I did not even know why I hadasked her to tarry here until my return; and searched my mind seekingthe reason. For it must have been that I had some good reason in mymind. 

"Why, yes, " I said, scarce knowing why, "I have further use for you. Tarry for a moment and I shall return. And, " I added mentally, "by thattime I shall have discovered the reason. "

She said nothing; I hastened back to the house, where even from theoutside I could hear the loud voice of Sheldon vowing that if what thisIndian said were true, the cavalry he had discovered at North Castlemust be Moylan's and no other. 

I entered and listened a moment to Major Lockwood, urging thisobstinate man to send out his patrols; then I walked over to the windowwhere Boyd stood in whispered consultation with an Indian. 

The savage towered at least six feet in his soaking moccasins; he woreneither lock nor plume, nor paint of any kind that I could see, carriedneither gun nor blanket, nor even a hatchet. There was only a heavyknife at the beaded girdle, which belted his hunting shirt and breechesof muddy tow-cloth. 

As I approached them, the Mohican turned his head and shot a searchingglance at me. Boyd said:

"This is the great Sagamore, Mayaro, Mr. Loskiel; and I have attemptedto persuade him to come north with us tomorrow. Perhaps your eloquencewill succeed where my plain speech has failed. " And to the tallSagamore he said: "My brother, this is Ensign Loskiel, of ColonelMorgan's command--my comrade and good friend. What this man's lips tellyou has first been taught them by his heart. Squirrels chatter, brooksbabble, and the tongues of the Iroquois are split. But this is a man, Sagamore, such as are few among men. For he lies not even to women. "And though his countenance was very grave, I saw his eyes laughing atme. 

The Indian made no movement until I held out my hand. Then his sinewyfingers touched mine, warily at first, like the exploring antennae of anervous butterfly. And presently his steady gaze began to disturb me. 

"Does my brother the Sagamore believe he has seen me somewhereheretofore?" I asked, smilingly. "Perhaps it may have been so--atJohnson Hall--or at Guy Park, perhaps, where came many chiefs andsachems and Sagamores in the great days of the great Sir William--thedays that are no more, O Sagamore!"

And: "My brother's given name?" inquired the savage bluntly. 

"Euan--Euan Loskiel, once of the family of Guy Johnson, but now, forthese three long battle years, officer in Colonel Morgan's regiment, " Isaid. "Has the wise Sagamore ever seen me before this moment?"

The savage's eyes wavered, then sought the floor. 

"Mayaro has forgotten, " he replied very quietly, using the Delawarephrase--a tongue of which I scarcely understood a word. But I knew hehad seen me somewhere, and preferred not to admit it. Indian caution, thought I, and I said:

"Is my brother Siwanois or Mohican?"

A cunning expression came into his features:

"If a Siwanois marries a Mohican woman, of what nation are thechildren, my new brother, Loskiel?"

"Mohican, " I said in surprise, --"or so it is among the Iroquois, " andthe next moment could have bitten off my tongue for vexation that Ishould have so clumsily reminded a Sagamore of a subject nation of hisservitude, by assuming that the Lenni-Lenape had conformed even to theracial customs of their conquerors. 

The hot flush now staining my face did not escape him, and what hethought of my stupid answer to him or of my embarrassment, I did notknow. His calm countenance had not altered--not even had his eyeschanged, which features are quickest to alter when Indians betrayemotion. 

I said in a mortified voice:

"The Siwanois Sagamore will believe that his new brother, Loskiel, meant no offense. " And I saw that the compliment had told. 

"Mayaro has heard, " he said, without the slightest emphasis ofresentment. Then, proudly and delicately yielding me reason, anddrawing his superb figure to its full and stately height: "When aMohican Sagamore listens, all Algonquins listen, and the Siwanois clangrow silent in the still places. When a real man speaks, real menlisten with respect. Only the Canienga continue to chirp and chatter;only the Long House is full of squirrel sounds and the noise of jays. "His lip curled contemptuously. "Let the echoes of the Long House answerthe Kanonsis. Mayaro's ears are open. "

Boyd, with a triumphant glance at me, said eagerly:

"Is not this hour the hour for the great Siwanois clan of theLenni-Lenape to bid defiance to the Iroquois? Is it not time that theMohawks listen to the reading of those ancient belts, and count theirdishonoured dead with brookside pebbles from the headwaters of theSacandaga to the Delaware Capes?"

"Can squirrels count?" retorted Mayaro disdainfully. "Does my whitebrother understand what the blue-jays say one to another in theyellowing October woods? Not in the Kanonsis, nor yet in theKanonsionni may the Mohicans read to the Mohawks the ancient wampumrecords. The Lenni-Lenape are Algonquin, not Huron-Iroquois. Let thosedegraded Delawares who still sit in the Long House count their whitebelts while, from both doors of the Confederacy, Seneca and Mohawkbelt-bearers hurl their red wampum to the four corners of the world. "

"The Mohicans, while they wait, may read of glory and great deeds, " Isaid, "but the belts in their hands are not white. How can this be, mybrother?"

The Sagamore's eyes flashed:

"The belts we remember are red!" he said. "We Mohicans have neverunderstood Iroquois wampum. Let the Lenape of the Kansonsionni bearIroquois belts!"

"In the Long House, " said I, "the light is dim. Perhaps the Canienga'sambassadors can no longer perceive the red belts in the archives of theLenape. "

It had so far been a careful and cautious exchange of subtlest metaphorbetween this proud and sensitive Mohican and me; I striving to win himto our cause by recalling the ancient greatness and the proud freedomof his tribe, yet most carefully avoiding undue pressure or any directappeal for an immediate answer to Boyd's request. But already I had sothoroughly prepared the ground; and the Sagamore's responses had beenso encouraging, that the time seemed to have come to put the direct andfinal question. And now, to avoid the traditional twenty-four hours'delay which an Indian invariably believes is due his own dignity beforereplying to a vitally important demand, I boldly cast precedent andcustom to the four winds, and once more seized on allegory to aid me inthis hour of instant need. 

I began by saluting him with the most insidious and stately complimentI could possibly offer to a Sagamore of a conquered race--a race whichalready was nearly extinct--investing this Mohican Sagamore with theprerogatives of his very conquerors by the subtlety of my openingphrase:

"O Sagamore! Roya-neh! Noble of the three free clans of a free Mohicanpeople! Our people have need of you. The path is dark toCatharines-town. Terror haunts those frightful shades. Roya-nef! Weneed you!

"Brother! Is there occasion for belts between us to confirm a brother'swords, when this leathern girth I wear around my body carries a redwampum which all may see and read--my war axe and my knife?"

I raised my right arm slowly, and drew with my forefinger a greatcircle in the air around us:

"Brother! Listen attentively! Since a Sagamore has read the belt Iyesterday delivered, the day-sun has circled us where we now stand. Itis another day, O Roya-neh! In yonder fireplace new ashes whiten, newembers redden. We have slept (touching my eyelids and then laying myright hand lightly over his); we have eaten (again touching his lipsand then my own); and now--now here--now, in this place and on thisday, I have returned to the Mohican fire--the Fire of Tamanund! Now Iam seated (touching both knees). Now my ears are open. Let the Sagamoreof the Mohicans answer my belt delivered! I have spoken, O Roya-neh!"

For a full five minutes of intense silence I knew that my bold appealwas being balanced in the scales by one of a people to whom traditionis a religion. One scale was weighted with the immemorial customs andusages of a great and proud people; the other with a white man's subtleand flattering recognition of these customs, conveyed in metaphor, which all Indians adore, and appealing to imagination--an appeal towhich no Huron, no Iroquois, no Algonquin, is ever deaf. 

In the breathless silence of suspense the irritable, high-pitched voiceof Colonel Sheldon came to my ears. It seemed that after all he hadsent out a few troopers and that one had just returned to report alarge body of horsemen which had passed the Bedford road at a gallop, apparently headed for Ridgefield. But I scarcely noted what was beingdiscussed in the further end of the hall, so intent was I on theSagamore's reply--if, indeed, he meant to answer me at all. I couldeven feel Boyd's body quivering with suppressed excitement as ourelbows chanced to come in contact; as for me, I scarce made out tocontrol myself at all, and any nether lip was nearly bitten through erethe Mohican lifted his symmetrical head and looked me full and honestlyin the eyes. 

"Brother, " he said, in a curiously hushed voice, "on this day I come toyou here, at this fire, to acquaint you with my answer; answering mybrother's words of yesterday. "

I could hear Boyd's deep breath of profound relief. "Thank God!" Ithought. 

The Sagamore spoke again, very quietly:

"Brother, the road is dark to Catharines-town. There are no starsthere, no moon, no sun--only a bloody mist in the forest. For to thatdreadful empire of the Iroquois only blind trails lead. And from themghosts of the Long House arise and stand. Only a thick darkness isthere--an endless gloom to which the Mohican hatchets long, long agodispatched the severed souls they struck! In every trail they stand, these ghosts of the Kanonsi, Seneca, Cayuga, Onondaga--ghosts of theTuscarora. The Mohawk beasts who wear the guise of men are there. Mayaro spits upon them! And upon their League! And upon their Atotarhothe Siwanois spit!"

Suddenly his arm shot out and he grasped the hilt of my knife, drew itfrom my belt, and then slowly returned it. I drew his knife andrendered it again. 

"Brother, " he said, "I have this day heard your voice coming to me outof the Northland! I have read the message on the belt you bore andwear; your voice has not lied to my ears; your message is clear asrunning springs to my eyes. I can see through to their pleasant depths. No snake lies hidden under them. So now--now, I say--if my brother'ssight is dimmed on the trail to Catharines-town, Mayaro will teach himhow to see under the night-sun as owls see, so that behind us, thesteps of many men shall not stumble, and the darkness of the Long Houseshall become redder than dawn, lighted by the flames of a thousandrifles!

"Brother! A Sagamore never lies. I have drawn my brother's knife!Brother, I have spoken!"

And so it was done in that house and in the dark of dawn. Boyd silentlygave him his hands, and so did I; then Boyd led him aside with a slightmotion of dismissal to me. 

As I walked toward the front door, which was now striding open, I sawMajor Tallmadge go out ahead of me, run to the mounting-block, andclimb into his saddle. Colonel Sheldon followed him to the doorway, andcalled after him:

"Take a dozen men with you, and meet Colonel Moylan! A dozen will besufficient, Major!"

Then he turned back into the house, saying to Major Lockwood and Mr. Hunt he was positive that the large body of dragoons in rapid motion, which had been seen and reported by one of our videttes a few minutessince, could be no other than Moylan's expected regiment; and that hewould mount his own men presently and draw them up in front of theMeeting House. 

The rain had now nearly ceased; a cloudy, greyish horizon becamevisible, and the dim light spreading from a watery sky made objectsdimly discernible out of doors. 

I hastened back to the shed where I had left the strange maid swathedin her scarlet cape; and found her there, slowly pacing the trampledsod before it. 

As I came up with her, she said:

"Why are the light dragoons riding on the Bedford road? Is aught amiss?"

"A very large body of horse has passed our videttes, making towardRidgefield. Colonel Sheldon thinks it must be Moylan's regiment. "

"Do you?"

"It may be so. "

"And if it be the leather-caps?"

"Then we must find ourselves in a sorry pickle. "

As I spoke, the little bugle-horn of Sheldon's Horse blew boots andsaddles, and four score dragoons scrambled into their saddles down bythe barns, and came riding up the sloppy road, their horses slippingbadly and floundering through the puddles and across the stream, where, led by a captain, the whole troop took the Meeting House road at astiff canter. 

We watched them out of sight, then she said:

"I have awaited your pleasure, Mr. Loskiel. Pray, in what furthermanner can I be of service to--my country?"

"I have come back to tell you, " said I, "that you can be of no furtheruse. Our errand to the Sagamore has now ended, and most happily. Youhave served your country better than you can ever understand. I havecome to say so, and to thank you with--with a heart--very full. "

"Have I then done well?" she asked slowly. 

"Indeed you have!" I replied, with such a warmth of feeling that itsurprised myself. 

"Then why may I not understand this thing that I have done--for mycountry?"

"I wish I might tell you. "

"May you not?"

"No, I dare not. "

She bit her lip, gazing at nothing over the ragged collar of her cape, and stood so, musing. And after a while she seemed to come to herself, wearily, and she cast a tragic upward glance at me. Then, dropping hereyes, and with the slightest inclination of her head, not looking at meat all, she started across the trampled grass. 

"Wait----" I was by her side again in the same breath. 

"Well, sir?" And she confronted me with cool mien and lifted brows. Under them her grey eyes hinted of a disdain which I had seen in themmore than once. 

"May I not suitably express my gratitude to you?" I said. 

"You have already done so. "

"I have tried to do so properly, but it is not easy for me to say howgrateful to you we men of the Northland are--how deeply we must everremain in your debt. Yet--I will attempt to express our thanks--if youcare to listen. "

After a pause: "Then--if there is nothing more to say--"

"There is, I tell you. Will you not listen?"

"I have been thanked--suitably. .. . I will say adieu, sir. "

"Would you--would you so far favour me as to make known to me yourname?" I said, stammering a little. 

"Lois is my name, " she said indifferently. 

"No more than that?"

"No more than that. "

How it was now going with me I did not clearly understand, but itappeared to be my instinct not to let her slip away into the worldwithout something more friendly said--some truer gratitudeexpressed--some warmth. 

"Lois, " I said very gravely, "what we Americans give to our countrydemands no ignoble reward. Therefore, I offer none of any sort. Yet, because you have been a good comrade to me--and because now we areabout to go our different ways into the world before us--I ask of youtwo things. May I do so?"

After a moment, looking away from me across the meadow:

"Ask, " she said. 

"Then the first is--will you take my hand in adieu--and let us part asgood soldiers part?"

Still gazing absently across the meadow, she extended her hand. Iretained it for a moment, then released it. Her arm fell inert by herside, but mine tingled to the shoulder. 

"And one more thing, " I said, while this strange and curious reluctanceto let her go was now steadily invading me. 

"Yes?"

"Will you wear a comrade's token--in memory of an hour or two with him?"

"What!"

She spoke with a quick intake of breath and her grey eyes were on menow, piercing me to the roots of speech and motive. 

I wore a heavy ring beaten out of gold; Guy Johnson gave it. This Itook from my trembling finger, scarce knowing why I was doing it atall, and stooping and lifting her little, wind-roughened hand, put iton the first finger I encountered--blindly, now, and clumsily past allbelief, my hand was shaking so absurdly. 

If my face were now as red as it was hot, hers, on the contrary, hadbecome very strange and still and white. For a moment I seemed to readdistrust, scorn, even hatred, in her level stare, and something offear, too, in every quickening breath that moved the scarlet mantle onher breast. Then, in a flash, she had turned her back on me and wasstanding there in the grey dawn, with both hands over her face, straight and still as a young pine. But my ring was shining on herfinger. 

Emotion of a nature to which I was an utter stranger was meddling withmy breath and pulses, now checking, now speeding both so that I stoodwith mind disconcerted in a silly sort of daze. 

At length I gathered sufficient composure to step to her side again. 

"Once more, little comrade, good-bye, " I said. "This ends it all. "

Again she turned her shoulder to me, but I heard her low reply:

"Good-bye--Mr. Loskiel. "

And so it ended. 

A moment later I found myself walking aimlessly across the grass in noparticular direction. Three times I turned in my tracks to watch her. Then she disappeared beyond the brookside willows. 

I remember now that I had turned and was walking slowly back to whereour horses stood, moving listlessly through the freshly mowed meadowbetween drenched haystacks--the first I had seen that year--and Godalone knows where were my thoughts a-gypsying, when, very far away, Iheard a gun-shot. 

At first I could perceive nothing, then on the distant Bedford road Isaw one of our dragoons running his horse and bending low in his saddle. 

Another dragoon appeared, riding a diable--and a dozen more behindthese; and on their heels a-galloping, a great body of red-jacketedhorsemen--hundreds of them--the foremost shooting from their saddles, the great mass of them swinging their heavy cutlasses and spurringfuriously after our flying men. 

I had seen far more than was necessary, and I ran for my horse. Otherofficers came running, too--Sheldon, Thomas, Lockwood, and myLieutenant Boyd. 

As we clutched bridle and stirrup and popped upward into out saddles, it seemed that the red-coats must cut us off, but we spurred out of themeadow into the Meeting House road, and Boyd cried furiously in my ear:

"See what this damned Sheldon has done for us now! God! What disgraceis ours!"

I saw Colonel Sheldon presently, pale as death, and heard him exclaim:

"Oh, Christ! I shall be broke for this! I shall be broke!"

I made out to say to Boyd:

"The enemy are coming in hundreds, sir, and we have scarce four scoremen mounted by the Meeting House. "

"They'll never stand, either, " he panted. "But if they do we'll seethis matter to an end. "

"Our orders?" I asked. 

"Damn our orders, " said he. "We'll see this matter to an end. "

We rode hard, but already some of Tallmadge's terror-stricken patrolwere overhauling us, and the clangor of the British cavalry brokelouder and louder on our ears as we came in sight of the Meeting House. Sheldon's four score troopers heard the uproar of the coming storm, wavered, broke, and whirled their horses about into a most disorderlyflight along the Stamford road. Everybody ran--there was no otherchoice for officers and men--and close on our heels came pelting the17th British Dragoons, the Hussars, and Mounted Yagers of the Legion;and behind these galloped their mounted infantry. 

A mad anxiety to get away from this terrible and overwhelming forcethundering on our heels under full charge possessed us all, I think, and this paramount necessity held shame and fury in abeyance. There wasnothing on earth for us to do but to ride and try to keep our horsesfrom falling headlong on the rocky, slippery road; for it was now avery hell of trampling horsemen, riding frantically knee against knee, buffeted, driven, crowded, crushed, slipping; and trooper after trooperwent down with a crash under the terrible hoofs, horse and riderbattered instantly into eternity. 

For full three-quarters of a mile they ran us full speed, and we droveon headlong; then at the junction of the New Canaan road our horsemenseparated, and I found myself riding in the rear beside Boyd and JackMount once more. Turning to look back, I perceived the Legion Cavalrywere slowing to a trot to rest their hard-blown horses; and graduallyour men did the same. But the Hussars continued to come on, and wecontinued our retreat, matching our speed to theirs. 

They let drive at us once with their heavy pistols, and we in the rearreturned their fire, emptying one saddle and knocking two horses intothe roadside bushes. 

Then they ran us hard again, and strove to flank us, but the rockycountry was too stiff for their riders, and they could not make out tocut us off or attain our flanks. 

"What a disgrace! What a disgrace!" was all Boyd found to say; and Iknew he meant the shameful surprise, not the retreat of our eightylight horsemen before the thundering charge of their heavy hundreds. 

Our troopers did not seem really frightened; they now jogged alongdoggedly, but coolly enough. We had with us on the New Canaan road sometwenty light dragoons, not including Boyd, myself, and Jack Mount--onecaptain, one cornet and a trumpeter lad, the remainder being rank andfile, and several mounted militiamen. 

The captain, riding in the rear with us, was ever twisting his hatlesshead to scowl back at the Hussars; and he talked continually in a loud, confident voice to reassure his men. 

"They're dropping off by tens and twenties, " he said. "If they keep tothat habit we'll give 'em a charge. Wait till the odds lessen. Steadythere, boys! This cattle chase is not ended. We'll fetch 'em a crackyet. We'll get a chance at their mounted infantry yet. All in God'stime, boys. Never doubt it. "

The bugle-horns of the Legion were now sounding their derisive, fox-hunting calls, and behind us we could hear the far laughter andshouting: "Yoicks! Forrard! Stole away--stole away!"

My cheeks began to burn; Boyd gnawed his lips continually, and I sawour dragoons turning angrily in their saddles as they understood theinsult of the British trumpets. 

Half a mile farther on there ran a sandy, narrow cross road into thewoods on either side of us. 

The captain drew bridle, stood up in his stirrups, and looked back. Forsome time, now, the taunting trumpets had not jeered us, and thepursuit seemed to have slackened after nearly three hard miles ofrunning. But they still followed us, though it was some minutes beforetheir red jackets came bobbing up again over the sandy crest of thehill behind us. 

All our men who had been looking back were now wheeled; and we divided, half backing into the sandy road to the right, half taking theleft-hand road under command of Lieutenant Boyd. 

"They are not too many, " said the dragoon captain coolly, beckoning tohis little bugle-horn. 

Willows hid us until their advanced troopers were close to where wesat--so close that one of our excited dragoons, spurring suddenlyforward into the main road, beat down a Hussar's guard, flung his armsaround him, and tore him from his saddle. Both fell from their horsesand began to fight fisticuffs in the sandy ditch. 

We charged instantly, and the enemy ran for it, our troopers raisingthe view halloo in their turn and whipping out their sabres. And allthe way back to the Stamford road we ran them, and so excited becameour dragoons that we could scarce hold them when we came in sight oncemore of the British main body now reforming under the rolling smoke ofPoundridge village, which they had set on fire. 

But further advance was madness, even when the remainder of our lighttroop came cantering down the Stamford road to rejoin us and watch theburning town, for we could now muster but two score and ten riders, having lost nearly thirty dead or missing. 

A dozen of Captain Fancher's militia came up, sober farmers of thevillage that lay below us buried in smoke; and our dragoons listened tothe tales of these men, some of whom had been in the village when theonset came, and had remained there, skulking about to pick off theenemy until their main farces returned. 

"Tarleton was in a great rage, I warrant you, " said one big, raw-bonedmilitiaman. "He rode up to Major Lockwood's house with his dragoons, and says he: 'Burn me this arch rebel's nest!' And the next minute theYagers were running in and out, setting fire to the curtains andlighting bundles of hay in every room. And I saw the Major's lady standthere on her doorstep and demand the reason for such barbarity--thehouse already afire behind her. Mrs. Hunt and the servants came outwith the children in their arms. And, 'By God, madam, ' says Tarleton, 'when shots are fired at my men from houses by the inhabitants of anytown in America, I'll burn the town and hang the men if I can get 'em. 'Some Hussars came up, driving before them the Major's fine herd ofimported cattle--and a troop of his brood mares--the same he has sooften had to hide in the Rock Hills. 'Stand clear, madam!' bawlsTarleton. 'I'll suffer nothing to be removed from that house!' At thisthe Major's lady gives one long look after her children, which BetsyHunt and the blacks are carrying through the orchard; then she calmlyenters the burning house and comes out again with a big silver platterand a load of linen from the dining-room in her arms. And at that atrooper draws his sabre and strikes her with the flat o' theblade--God, what a blow!--so that the lady falls to her knees and theheavy silver platter rolls out on the grass and the fine linen is inthe mud. I saw her blacks lift her and get her off through the orchard. I sneaked out of the brook willows, took a long shot at the beast whostruck her, and then pulled foot. "

There was a shacked silence among the officers who had gathered tolisten. Until this moment our white enemies had offered no violence toladies. So this brutality toward the Major's lady astounded us. 

Somebody said in a low voice:

"They've fired the church, now. "

Major Lockwood's house was also burning furiously, as also were hisbarns and stables, his sheds, and the new, unfinished barracks. Wecould see it all very plainly from the hilltop where we had gathered. 

"Alsop Hunt was taken, " said a militiaman. "They robbed him of hiswatch and purse, damning him for a rebel broad-brim. He's off to theProvost, I fear. "

"They took Mr. Reed, too, " said another. "They had a dozen neighboursunder guard when I left. "

Sheldon, looking like death, sat his saddle a little apart. No onespoke to him. For even a deeper disgrace had now befallen the dragoonsin the loss of their standard left behind in Lockwood's house. 

"What a pitiful mess!" whispered Boyd. "Is there nothing to be done butsit here and see the red beasts yonder sack the town?"

Before I could answer, I caught the sound of distant firing on theLewisboro road. Colonel Thomas reared stiffly in his saddle, and:

"Those are my own men!" he said loudly, "or I lie like a Tory!"

A hill half a mile north of us suddenly became dark with men; we sawthe glitter of their muskets, saw the long belt of white smoke encirclethem, saw red-jacketed men run out of a farmhouse, mount, and galloptoward the burning town. 

Along the road below us a column of Continental infantry appeared onthe run, cheering us with their hats. 

A roar from our dragoons answered them; our bugle-horn spoke, and I sawMajor Tallmadge, with a trumpeter at his back, rein in while thetroopers were reforming and calling off amid a whirlwind of rearinghorses and excited men. 

Below in the village, the British had heard and perfectly understoodthe volley from Thomas's regiment, and the cavalry and mounted infantryof the Legion were assembling in the smoke, and already beginning arapid retreat by the Bedford road. 

As Boyd and I went clattering down the hill, we saw Major Lockwood withThomas's men, and we rode up to him. He passed his sword to the lefthand, and leaning across in his saddle, exchanged a grip with us. Hisface was ghastly. 

"I know--I know, " he said hurriedly. "I have seen my wife and children. My wife is not badly injured. All are in safety. Thank you, gentlemen. "

We wheeled our horses and fell in beside our infantry, now pressingforward on a heavy run, so that Colonel Thomas and Major Lockwood hadto canter their horses. 

Firing instantly broke out as we entered the smoky zone where thehouses were burning. Into it, an our left, galloped Sheldon's lightdragoons, who, having but five muskets in the command, went at theYagers with naked sabres; and suddenly found themselves in touch withthe entire Legion cavalry, who set up a Loud bawling:

"Surrender, you damned rebels! Pull up, there! Halt!"

I saw a trooper, one Jared Hoyt, split the skull of a pursuing Britishdragoon straight across the mouth with a back-handed stroke, as heescaped from the melee; and another, one John Buckhout, duck his headas a dragoon fired at him, and, still ducking and loudly cursing thefellow, rejoin us as we sheered off from the masses of red-jacketedriders, wheeled, and went at the mounted Yagers, who did not stand ourcharge. 

There was much smoke, and the thick, suffocating gloom was lighted onlyby streaming sparks, so that in the confusion and explosion of musketsit was difficult to manoeuvre successfully and at the same time keepclear of Tarleton's overwhelming main body. 

This body was now in full but orderly retreat, driving with it cattle, horses, and some two dozen prisoners, mostly peaceable inhabitants whohad taken no part in the affair. Also, they had a wagon piled with thehelmets, weapons, and accoutrements of Sheldon's dead riders; and oneof their Hussars bore Sheldon's captured standard in his stirrup. 

To charge this mass of men was not possible with the two score horsemenleft us; and they retreated faster than our militia and Continentalscould travel. So all we could do was to hang on their rear and letdrive at them from our saddles. 

As far as we rode with them, we saw a dozen of their riders fall eitherdead or wounded from their horses, and saw their comrades lift theminto one of the wagons. Also we saw our dragoons and militia take threeprisoners and three horses before we finally turned bridle after ourlast long shot at their rear guard. 

For our business here lay not in this affair, and Boyd had disobeyedhis orders in not avoiding all fighting. He knew well enough that thebullets from our three rifles were of little consequence to our countrycompared to the safe accomplishment of our mission hither, and our safereturn with the Siwanois. Fortune had connived at our disobedience, forno one of us bore so much as a scratch, though all three of us mightvery easily have been done to death in the mad flight from the MeetingHouse, amid that plunging hell of horsemen. 

Fortune, too, hung to our stirrup leathers as we trotted intoPoundridge, for, among a throng of village folk who stood gazing at thesmoking ashes of the Lockwood house, we saw our Siwanois standing, tall, impassive, wrapped in his blanket. 

And late that afternoon we rode out of the half-ruined village, northward. Our saddle-bags were full; our animals rested; and, besideus, strode the Sagamore, fully armed and accoutred, lock braided, bodyoiled and painted for war--truly a terrific shape in the falling dusk. 

On the naked breast of this Mohican warrior of the Siwanois clan, whichis called by the Delawares "The Clan of the Magic Wolf, " outlined inscarlet, I saw the emblem of his own international clan--as Isupposed--a bear. 

And of a sudden, within me, vaguely, something stirred--some faintmemory, as though I had once before beheld that symbol on a dark andnaked breast, outlined in scarlet. Where had I seen it before? At GuyPark? At Johnson Hall? Fort Johnson? Butlersbury? Somewhere I had seenthat symbol, and in that same paint. Yes, it might easily have been. Every nation of the Confederacy possessed a clan that wore the bear. And yet--and yet--this bear seemed somehow different--and yetfamiliar--strangely familiar to me--but in a manner which awoke withinme an unrest as subtle as it was curious. 

I drew bridle, and as the Sagamore came up, I said uneasily:

"Brother, and ensign of the great bear clan of many nations, why is thesymbol that you wear familiar to me--and yet so strangely unfamiliar?"

He shot a glance of lightning intelligence at me, then instantly hisfeatures became smoothly composed and blank again. 

"Has my brother never before seen the Spirit Bear?" he asked coldly. 

"Is that a clan, Mayaro?"

"Among the Siwanois only. " "That is strange, " I muttered. "I have neverbefore seen a Siwanois. Where could I have seen a Siwanois? Where?"

But he only shook his head. 

Boyd and Mount had pricked forward; I still lingered by the Mohican. And presently I said:

"That was a brave little maid who bore our message to you. "

He made no answer. 

"I have been wondering, " I continued carelessly, "whether she has nofriends--so poor she seems--so sad and friendless, Have you anyknowledge of her?"

The Indian glanced at me warily, "My brother Loskiel should ask thesequestions of the maid herself. "

"But I shall never see her again, Sagamore. How can I ask her, then?"

The Indian remained silent. And, perhaps because I vaguely entertainedsome future hope of loosening his tongue in her regard, I now saidnothing more concerning her, deeming that best. But I was stillthinking of her as I rode northward through the deepening dusk. 

A great weariness possessed me, no doubt fatigue from the day'sexcitement and anxiety. Also, for some hours, that curiousbattle-hunger had been gnawing at my belly so that I had liked tostarve there in my saddle ere Boyd gave the signal to off-saddle forthe night. 

CHAPTER IV

A TRYST

Above the White Plains the territory was supposed to be our own. Below, seventeen thousand red-coats held the city of New York; and theirpartisans, irregulars, militia, refugee-corps, and Legion-horsemen, harried the lines. Yet, except the enemy's cruisers which sometimesstrayed far up the Hudson, like impudent hawks circling within the veryhome-yard, we saw nothing of red-rag or leather-cap north of our lines, save only once, when Lieutenant-Colonel Simcoe nearly caught us. 

His Excellency's army lay in position all around us, now, from WestPoint down the river; and our light-horsemen patrolled as far south asthe unhappy country from which we had retired through the smoke ofBedford's burning farms and the blaze of church and manor atPoundridge. That hilly strip was then our southern frontier, bravelydefended by Thomas and Lockwood, shamefully neglected by Sheldon, as wehad seen. For which he was broke, poor devil, and a better man setthere to watch the red fox Tarleton, to harry Emmeriek, and to throwthe fear o' God into that headlong blockhead, Simcoe, a brave man, butso possessed by hatred for "Mr. " Washington that every move he made waslike a goaded bull--his halts merely the bewilderment of baffled fury, his charges blind and bellowing. 

I know how he conducted, not from hearsay alone, but because at sunriseon our second day northward, before we struck the river-road, we hadlike to have had a brush with him, his flankers running afoul of us notfar beyond a fortified post heavily held by our Continentals. 

It was the glimpse of cannon and levelled bayonets that bewildered him;and his bawling charge sheered wide o' the shabby Continentalbattle-line, through which we galloped into safety, our Indian stickingto my crupper like a tree-cat with every claw. And I remember still thegrim laughter that greeted us from those unshaven, powder-blackenedranks, and how they laughed, too, as they fired by platoons at the farglimmer of Simcoe's helmets through the chestnut trees. 

And in the meantime, all the while, even from the very first eveningwhen we off-saddled in the rocky Westchester woods and made our firstflying-camp, I had become uneasy concerning the Siwanois--uncertainconcerning his loyalty to the very verge of suspicion. 

I said nothing of this to Lieutenant Boyd, having nothing definite tocommunicate. Nor did I even hint my suspicions, because distrust in themind of such a man as Boyd would be very difficult to eradicate, andthe slightest mishandling of our delicate situation might alienate theSagamore forever. 

Yet, of one thing I had become almost convinced: the Siwanois, while weslept, met and held communication with somebody outside our camp. 

On the first night this had happened; for, awaking and missing theSagamore, who had been left on guard, I lay a-watching under myblanket, and when he came in to the fire once more, it seemed to methat far in the woods I heard the faint sound of another personretiring stealthily through the tell-tale bushes that choke all secondgrowth hereabouts. 

On the second day we crossed to the other side of the Hudson in flatboats, with our horses. But on that night it was the same, I feigningsleep when it came time for the Siwanois to relieve the man on guard. And once again, after he had silently inspected us all, the Sagamorestole away into leafy depths, but halted as before within earshotstill. And once again some nascent sense within me seemed to becomeaware of another human being somewhere moving in the woods outside ourfire. 

How I divined it I do not know, because this time I could hear no soundin the starry obscurity of the Western Catskills, save only thosefamiliar forest sounds which never cease by night--unseen stirrings ofsleeping birds, the ruffle, of feathers, the sudden rustle of somefurry thing alarmed, the scratchings and pickings in rotting windfalls, the whisper of some falling leaf severed by insects or relaxing itsbrief clasp of the mother stem in the precocity of a maturity premature. 

Yet, so strong now had become my suspicions that I was alreadypreparing to unroll my blanket, rise, and creep after the Siwanois, when his light and rapid footfall sounded on the leaves close to myhead; and, as before, while again I feigned sleep, far in the thicketsomebody moved, cautiously retreating into tangled depths. But whetherI really heard or only guessed, I do not know down to this very day. 

On the third night it rained and we made a bark hut. Perhaps theSiwanois did his talking with this unseen visitor while away inpretense of peeling bark, for he did not creep abroad that night. But, somehow, I knew he had kept some tryst. 

Now, on this fourth day, and our journey drawing to its end, I resolvedto follow the Siwanois if he stirred from our fire, and discover formyself with what manner of visitor he held these stealthy councils. 

During the long day's march I lagged and watched and listened in vainfor any follower along our route. Sometimes I even played at flanker, sometimes rode far on ahead, and, at times, stuck to the Indian hourafter hour, seeming not to watch him, but with every sense alert tosurprise some glance, some significant movement, some cunning andtreacherous signal, to convince me that the forest had eyes that markedus, and ears which heard us, and that the Siwanois knew it, and aidedand abetted under our very gaze. 

But I had seen him do nothing that indicated him to be in secretcommunication with anybody. He marked neither tree nor stone, nor leafnor moss, as far as I could see; dropped nothing, made no sound at allsave when he gravely answered some observation that we offered. Once, even, I found a pretext to go back on the trail, searching to find somesign he might have left behind him: and had my journey for my pains. 

Now, had this same Indian been an Iroquois I might have formed somereasonable judgment concerning his capacity for treachery; but I hadseen few Delawares in my life, and had never heard them speak at all, save to boast in their cups of Uncas, Tamanund, and Miontonomoh. As fora Siwanois Mohican, this Sagamore of the Magic Clan was the first ofhis tribe and ensign that I had ever beheld. And with every motive andevery interest and desire in the world to believe him honest--and evenin my secret heart believing him to be so--yet I could not close eyesand ears to what so stealthily was passing in the midnight woods aroundme. And truly it was duty, nor any motive baser, that set me after himthat starlit night, when, as before, being on guard, he left the fireabout midnight: and I out of my blanket and after him in a trice. 

The day was the 7th of July, a Wednesday, I remember, as I had writ itin my journal, my habit being to set down every evening, or as near thedate as convenient, a few words which briefly recorded the day's events. 

The night before we had camped in the woods along the Catskill roadleading toward Cobus-kill; this night, being fine and warm, we madeopen camp along a stream, within a few miles' journey of the MiddleFort; and, soupaan being eaten, let the coals die and whiten intoashes. This, partly because we needed not the warmth, partly fromprecaution. For although on the open roads our troops in detachmentswere now concentrating, moving on Otsego Lake and the upper waters ofthe Delaware and Susquehanna, this was no friendly country, and we knewit. So the less firelight, the snugger we might lie in case of somestray scalping party from the west or north. 

Now, as I say, no sooner did the Siwanois leave his post and goa-roving than I went after him, with infinite precaution; and I flattermyself that I made no more noise on the brookside moss than themoon-cast shadow of a flying cloud. Guy Johnson was no skilfulwoodsman, but his Indians were; and of them I learned my craft. Andscout detail in Morgan's Rifles, too, was a rare school to finish anyman and match him with the best who ran the woods. 

Too near his heels I dared not venture, as long as his tall form passedlike a shadow against the white light that the stars let in through theforest cleft, where ran the noisy stream. But presently he turned off, and for a moment I thought to lose him in the utter blackness of theprimeval trees. And surely would have had I not seen close to me a vastand smoothly slanting ledge of rock which the stars shining on madesilvery, and on which no tree could grow, scarce even a tuft of fern, so like a floor it lay in a wide oval amid the forest gloom. 

Somewhere upon that dim and sparkling esplanade the Siwanois had nowseated himself. For a while, straining my eyes where I lay flat amongthe taller fringing ferns, I could just make out a blot in the greynesswhere he sat upright, like a watching catamount under the stars. 

Then, across the dimness, another blot moved to join him; and I felt myhair stir as chilling certainty shocked from me my lingering hope thatI had been mistaken. 

Faintly--oh, scarce audible at all--the murmur of two voices came to methere where I lay under the misty lustre of the stars. Nearer, nearer Icrept, nearer, nearer, until I lay flat as a shadow there, stark on theshelf of rock. And, as though they had heard me, and as if to spite me, their voices sank to whispers. Yet, I knew of a certainty that I hadneither been observed nor heard. 

Hushed voices, whispers, undertones as soft as summer night winds--thatwas all I heard, all I could make of it; and sniffed treason as I laythere, making no question of the foulness of this midnight tryst. 

It was an hour, I think, they sat there, two ghostly figures formlessagainst the woods; then one rose, and presently I saw it was theSagamore. 

Noiselessly he retraced his steps across the silvery esplanade of rock;and if my vague, flat outline were even visible to him I passed for ashadow or a cleft beneath his notice--perhaps for a fallen branch orheap of fern and withered leaf--I know not. But I let him go, unstirring, my eyes riveted upon the other shape, seated there likesome grey wraith upon a giant's tombstone, under the high stars. 

Beyond the ferns I saw the shadow of the Sagamore against the streampass toward our camp. Then I addressed myself to the business beforeme; loosened knife and hatchet in their beaded sheaths, stirred, movedforward inch by inch, closer, closer, then to the left to get behind, nearer, ever nearer, till the time had come for me to act. I rosesilently to my moccasined feet, softly drew my heavy knife againstevents, and lightly struck the ringing blade against my hatchet. 

Instantly the grey shape bounded upright, and I heard a whispering cryof terror stifled to a sob. 

And then a stunning silence fell between us twain. 

For I was staring upon the maid who had brought the Sagamore to us, andshe was looking back at me, still swaying on her feet and all a-tremblefrom the dreadful fear that still possessed her. 

"Lois?" I made out to whisper. 

She placed one hand against her side, fighting for breath; and when shegained it sighed deeply once or twice, with a low sound like thewhimpering wings of doves. 

At her feet I saw a cup of water shining, a fragment of corn bread andmeat. Near these lay a bundle with straps on it. 

"In God's name, " I said in a ghostly voice, "what does this mean? Whyhave you followed us these four days past? Are you mad to risk ascalping party, or, on the open road, hazard the rough gallantries ofsoldiers' bivouacs? If you had business in these parts, and desired tocome, why did you not tell me so and travel with us?"

"I did not wish to ask that privilege of----" She hesitated, then benther head. "----of any man. What harm have I caused you by following?"

I said, still amazed and wondering:

"I understand it all now. The Sagamore brings you food. Is that true?"

"Yes, " she said sullenly. 

"And you have kept in touch with us ever since we started?"

"With Mayaro. "

"Why?"

"I have told you that I had no wish to travel in your company. "

"But for protection----"

"Protection! I have heard that, too, from men. It is ever on men'slips--that word meaning damnation. I thank you, Mr. Loskiel, I requireno protection. "

"Do you distrust Lieutenant Boyd or me? Or what?"

"Men! And you twain are two of them. "

"You fear such men as we are!" I demanded impatiently. 

"I know nothing of you, " she answered, "save that you are men. "

"Do you mean Mr. Boyd--and his thoughtless gallantry----"

"I mean men! All men! And he differs in nothing from the rest that Ican see. Which is why I travel without your leave on my own affairs andby myself--spite of the Iroquois. " She added bitterly; "And it is knownto civilization that the Iroquois are to be trusted where the white manis not!"

Her meaning was plain enough now. What this young girl had seen andsuffered and resented amid a world of men I did not know. Boyd's lategallantry, idle, and even ignoble as it had appeared to me, hadpoisoned her against me also, confirming apparently all she ever hadknown of men. 

If this young, lonely, ragged thing were what her attitude and wordsmade plain, she had long endured her beauty as a punishment. What herbusiness might be in lingering around barracks and soldiers' camps Icould not guess; but women who haunted such resorts seldom complainedof the rough gallantries offered. And if their charms faded, theypainted lip and cheek, and schooled the quivering mouth to smile again. 

What her business might now be in following our little detail northwardI could not surmise. Here was no barracks wench! But wench or gypsy orwhat not, it was impossible that I should leave her here alone. Eventhe thought of it set one cold. 

"Come into camp this night, " I said. 

"I will not. "

"You must do so. I may not leave you here alone. "

"I can care for myself. "

"Yes--as you cared for yourself when I crept up behind you. And if Ihad been a savage--then what?"

"A quick end, " she said coolly. 

"Or a wretched captivity--perhaps marriage to some villainousIroquois----"

"Yes, sir; but nothing worse than marriage!"

"Child!" I exclaimed. "Where have you lived to belie the pitiful youthof you with such a worldly-worn and bitter tongue? I tell you all menare not of that stripe! Do you not believe me?"

"Birds sing, sir. "

"Will you come into camp?" I repeated hotly. 

"And if I will not?"

"Then, by heaven, I'll carry you in my arms! Will you come?"

She laughed at me, dangerously calm, seated herself, picked up thepartly eaten food, and began to consume it with all the insolentleisure in the world. 

I stood watching her for a few moments, then sat down cross-leggedbefore her. 

"Why do you doubt me, Lois?" I asked. 

"Dear sir, I do not doubt you, " she answered with faintest malice. 

"I tell you I am not of that stripe!" I said angrily. 

"Then you are not a man at all. I tell you I have talked with men asgood as you, and heard them protest as you do--yes, with all the gentlecondescension that you use, all of your confidence and masterfuladvice. Sooner or later all have proved the same, " she shrugged;"----proved themselves men, in plainer words. "

She sat eating thoughtfully, looking aloft now and then at the thicksplendor of the firmament. 

Then, breaking a bit of corn bread, she said gravely:

"I do not mean that you have not been kind, as men mean kindness. I donot even mean that I blame men. God made them different from us. Andhad He made me one, doubtless I had been as all men are, taking theroad through life as gaily, sword on thigh and hat in hand to everypretty baggage that a kindly fate made wayfarer with me. No, I havenever blamed a man; only the silly minx who listens. "

After a short silence, I said: "Who, in the name of heaven, are you, Lois?"

"Does that concern you?"

"I would have it concern me--if you wish. "

"Dear sir, " she said very coolly, "I wish nothing of the kind. "

"You do not trust me. "

"Why, yes, as I trust every man--except a red one. "

"Yet, I tell you that all that animates me is a desire to render you acomrade's service----"

"And I thank you, Mr. Loskiel, because, like other men, you mean itgenerously and well. Yet, you are an officer in the corps d'élite; andyou would be ashamed to have the humblest bugler in your regiment seeyou with such a one as I. "

She broke another morsel from her bread:

"You dare not cross a camp-parade beside me. At least the plaything ofan officer should walk in silk, whatever clothes a soldier's trull. Sir, do you suppose I do not know?"

She looked up at the stare, and then quietly at me. 

"The open comradeship of any man with me but marks us both. Only histaste is criticized, not his morals. But the world's judgment leaves menothing to cover me except the silk or rags I chance to wear. And if Iam brave and fine it would be said of me, 'The hussy's gown is braveand fine!' And if I go in tatters, 'What slattern have we here, flaunting her boldness in the very sun?' So a comradeship with any manis all one to me. And I go my way, neither a burden nor a plaything, ascandal only to myself, involving no man high or low save where theiradvances wrong us both in the world's eyes--as did those of yourfriend, yonder by a dead fire asleep. "

"All men are not so fashioned. Can you not believe me?"

"You say so, sir. "

"Yes; and I say that I am not. "

"Birds sing. "

"Lois, will you let me aid you?"

"In what? The Sagamore feeds me; and the Middle Fort is not so far. "

"And at the Middle Fort how will you live?"

"As I have lived; wash for the soldiers; sew for them--contrive to finda living as I journey. "

"Whither?"

"It is my own affair. "

"May I not aid?"

"You could not if you would; you would not if you could. "

"Ask me, Lois. "

"No. " She shook her head. Then, slowly: "I do thank you for the wish, Mr. Loskiel. But the Siwanois himself refuses what I ask. And youwould, also, did you know my wish. "

"What is your wish?"

She shook her head: "It is useless to voice it--useless. "

She gathered the scant fragments of her meal, wrapped them in a bit ofsilver birch-bark, unrolled her bundle, and placed them there. Then shedrained the tin cup of its chilly water, and, still sitting therecross-legged on the rock, tied the little cup to her girdle. It seemedto me, there in the dusk, that she smiled very faintly; and if it wasso it was the first smile I had had of her when she said:

"I travel light, Mr. Loskiel. But otherwise there is nothing lightabout me. "

"Lois, I pray you, listen. As I am a man, I can not leave you here. "

"For that reason, sir, you will presently take your leave. "

"No, I shall remain if you will not come into camp with us. "

She said impatiently:

"I lie safer here than you around your fire. You mean well; now takeyour leave of me--with whatever flight of fancy, " she added mockingly, "that my present condition invests me with in the eyes of a very youngman. "

The rudeness of the fling burnt my face, but I answered civilly:

"A scalping party may be anywhere in these woods. It is the season; andneither Oneida Lake nor Fort Niagara itself are so distant that theirfar-hurled hatchets may not strike us here. "

"I will not go with you, " said she, making of her bundle a pillow. Then, very coolly, she extended her slim body and laid her head on thebundle. 

I made no answer, nor any movement for fully an hour. Then, verystealthily, I leaned forward to see if she truly slept. And found hereyes wide open. 

"You waste time mounting sentry over me, " she said in a low voice. "Best employ your leisure in the sleep you need. "

"I can not sleep. "

"Nor I--if you remain here awake beside me. "

She raised herself on her elbow, peering through the darkness towardthe stream. 

"The Siwanois has been standing yonder by the stream watching us thisfull hour past. Let him mount sentry if he wishes. "

"You have a tree-cat's eyes, " I said. "I see nothing. "

Then I rose and unbuckled my belt. Hatchet and knife dangled from it. Istooped and laid it beside her. Then, stepping backward a pace or two, I unlaced my hunting shirt of doe-skin, drew it off, and, rolling itinto a soft pillow, lay down, cradling my cheek among the thrums. 

I do not know how long I lay there before I fell asleep from veryweariness of the new and deep emotions, as strange to me as they wereunwelcome. The restlessness, the misgivings which, since I first hadseen this maid, had subtly invaded me, now, grown stronger, assailed mewith an apprehension I could neither put from me nor explain. Nor wasthis vague fear for her alone; for, at moments, it seemed as though itwere for myself I feared--fearing myself. 

So far in my brief life, I had borne myself cleanly and upright, thoughthe times were loose enough, God knows, and the master of Guy Park hadread me no lesson or set me no example above the morals and the customsof his class and of the age. 

It may have been pride--I know not what it was, that I could notice thedoings of Sir John and of young Walter Butler and remain aloof, evenindifferent. Yet, this was so. Never had a woman's beauty stirred meotherwise than blamelessly, never had I entertained any sentimenttoward fashionable folly other than aversion and a kind of shamedcontempt. 

Nor had I been blind at Guy Park and Butlersbury and Tribes Hill, norin Albany, either. I knew Clarissa Putnam; I also knew SusannahWormwood and her sister Elizabeth, and all that pretty company; andmany another pretty minx and laughing, light-minded lass in countyTryon. And a few in Cambridge, too. So I was no niais, no naive countryfool, unless to remain aloof were folly. And I often wondered to myselfhow this might really be, when Boyd rallied me and messmates laughed. 

And now, as I lay there under the clustered stars, my head pillowed onmy deer-skin shirt, my mind fell a-groping for reason to bear me out inmy strained and strange perplexity. 

Why, from the time I first had spoken to her, should thoughts of thisstrange and ragged maid have so possessed me that each day my memory ofher returned, haunting me, puzzling me, plaguing my curiosity tillimagination awoke, spurring my revery to the very border of an unknownland where rides Romance, in armour, vizor down. 

Until this night I had not crossed that border, nor ever thought to, ordreamed of doing it. No beggar-maiden-seeking king was I by nature, norever felt for shabby dress and common folk aught but the mixture ofpity and aversion which breeds a kind of charity. And, I once supposed, were the Queen of Sheba herself to pass me in a slattern's rags, onlyher rags could I ever see, for all her beauty. 

But how was it now with me that, from the very first, I had been firstconscious of this maid herself, then of her rags. How was it that Ifelt no charity, nor pity of that sort, only a vague desire that sheshould understand me better--know that I meant her kindness--God knowswhat I wished of her, and why her grey eyes haunted me, and why I couldnot seem to put her from my mind. 

That now she fully possessed my mind I convinced myself was due to myvery natural curiosity concerning her; forgetting that a week ago Ishould not have condescended to curiosity. 

Who and what was she? She had been schooled; that was plain in voiceand manner. And, though she used me with scant courtesy, I wasconvinced she had been schooled in manners, too, and was no stranger tousages and customs which mark indelibly where birth and breeding do notalways. 

Why was she here? Why alone? Where were her natural protectors then?What would be her fate a-gypsying through a land blackened with war, orhaunting camps and forts, penniless, in rags--and her beauty ever aflaming danger to herself, despite her tatters and because of them. 

I slept at last; I do not know how long. The stars still glitteredoverhead when I awoke, remembered, and suddenly sat upright. 

She was gone. I might have known it. But over me there came a rush offear and anger and hurt pride; and died, leaving a strange, dull aching. 

Over my arm I threw my rifle-frock, looked dully about to find my belt, discovered it at my feet. As I buckled it, from the hatchet-slingsomething fell; and I stooped to pick it up. 

It was a wild-rose stem bearing a bud unclosed. And to a thorn a shredof silver birch-bark clung impaled. On it was scratched with a knife'skeen point a message which I could not read until once more I crept into our fire, which Mount had lighted for our breakfast. 

And there I read her message: "A rose for your ring, comrade. And benot angry with me. "

I read it again, then curled it to a tiny cylinder and placed it in mypouch, glancing sideways at the reclining Mohican. Boyd began to murmurand stretch in his blanket, then relaxed once more. 

So I lay down, leaving Jack Mount a-cooking ashen cakes, and yawning. 

CHAPTER V

THE GATHERING

Now, no sooner had we broken camp, covered our fire, packed, saddled, and mounted, than all around us, as we advanced, the wilderness beganto wear an aspect very different to that brooding solitude whichhitherto had been familiar to us--our shelter and our menace also. 

For we had proceeded on our deeply-trodden war trail no more than amile or two before we encountered the raw evidences of an army'soccupation. Everywhere spotted leads, game trails, and runways had beenhacked, trimmed, and widened into more open wood-walks; foot-pathsenlarged to permit the passage of mounted men; cattle-roads cleared, levelled, made smoother for wagons and artillery; log bridges builtacross the rapid streams that darkled westward, swamps and swales pavedwith logs, and windfalls hewn in twain and the huge abattis draggedwide apart or burnt to ashes where it lay. Yet, still the high debrisbristling from some fallen forest giant sprawling athwart the highwayoften delayed us. Our details had not yet cleared out the road entirely. 

We were, however, within a wolf-hound's easy run to Cherry Valley, FortHunter, and the Mohawk--the outer edges of my own country. Northeast ofus lay Schenectady behind its fort; north of us lay my former home, GuyPark, and near it old Fort Johnson and Johnson Hall. Farther still tothe northward stretched the Vale and silvery Sacandaga with its prettyFish House settlement now in ashes; and Summer House Point and Fonda'sBush were but heaps of cinders, too, the brave Broadalbin yeomenprisoners, their women and children fled to Johnstown, save old manStoner and his boys, and that Tory villain Charlie Cady who went offwith Sir John. 

Truly I should know something of these hills and brooks and foreststhat we now traversed, and of the silent, solitary roads that creptinto the wilderness, penetrating to distant, lonely farms or gristmills where some hardy fellow had cleared the bush and built his cabinon the very borders of that dark and fearsome empire which we weregathering to enter and destroy. 

Here it lay, close on our left flank--so close that its strangegigantic shadow fell upon us, like a vast hand, stealthy and chill. 

And it was odd, but on the edges of these trackless shades, here, evenwith fresh evidences on every side that our own people lately passedthis way--yes, even when we began to meet or overtake men of our owncolor--the stupendous desolation yielded nothing of its broodingmystery and dumb magnificence. 

Westward, the green monotony of trees stretched boundless as an ocean, and as trackless and uncharted--gigantic forests in the depths of whichtwilight had brooded since first the world was made. 

Here, save for the puny, man-made trail--save for the tiny scars leftby his pygmy hacking at some high forest monument, all this magicshadow-land still bore the imprint of our Lord's own fingers. 

The stillness and the infinite majesty, the haunting fragrance clingingto the craftsmanship of hands miraculous; all the sweet odour anduntainted beauty which enveloped it in the making, and which hadremained after creation's handiwork was done, seemed still to linger inthis dim solitude. And it was as though the twilight through the woodedaisles was faintly tinctured still, where the sweet-scented garments ofthe Lord had passed. 

There was no underbrush, no clinging sprays or fairy bramblesintertwined under the solemn arches of the trees; only the immemorialstrata of dead leaves spread one above another in endless coverlets ofcrumbling gold; only a green and knee-deep robe of moss clothing thevast bases of the living columns. 

And into this enchanted green and golden dusk no sunlight penetrated, save along the thread-like roads, or where stark-naked rocks toweredskyward, or where, in profound and velvet depths, crystalline streamsand rivers widened between their Indian willow bottoms. And these werealways set with wild flowers, every bud and blossom gilded by the sun. 

As we journeyed on, the first wayfarer we encountered after passing ourouter line of pickets was an express rider from General Sullivan'sstaff, one James Cook, who told us that the right division of the army, General James Clinton's New York brigade, which was ours, was stillslowly concentrating in the vicinity of Otsego Lake; that innumerableand endless difficulties in obtaining forage and provisions had delayedeverything; that the main division, Sullivan's, was now arriving atEaston and Wyoming; and that, furthermore, the enemy had become vastlyagitated over these ominous preparations of ours, but still believed, from their very magnitude, that we were preparing for an advance intoCanada. 

"Ha-ha!" said Boyd merrily. "So much the better, for if they continueto believe that, they will keep their cursed scalping parties snug athome. "

"No, sir, " said the express soberly. "Brant and his Mohawks are outsomewhere or other, and so is Walter Butler and his painted crew. "

"In this same district?"

"No doubt of it, sir. Indians fired on our pickets last week. It willgo hard with the outlying farms and settlements. Small doubt, too, thatthey will strike heavily and strive to draw this army from whateverplan it meditated. "

"Then, " said Boyd with a careless laugh, "it is for us to strike moreheavily still and draw them with the very wind of our advance into acommon vortex of destruction with the Iroquois. "

The express rode on, and Boyd, in excellent humour, continued talkingto me, saying that he knew our Commander-in-Chief, and that he was anofficer not to be lightly swayed or turned from the main purpose, butwould hew to the line, no matter what destruction raged and flamedabout him. 

"No, Loskiel, they may murder and burn to right and left of us, and itmay wring his heart and ours to hear the agonized appeals for aid; butif I judge our General, he will not be halted or drawn aside until themonstrous, loathesome body of this foul empire lies chopped to bits, writhing and dying in the flames of Catharines-town. "

"He must truly be a man of iron, " said I, "if we win through. "

"We will win through, Loskiel, " he said gaily, "--to Catharines-town orparadise--to hell or heaven. And what a tale to tell our children--wewho survive!"

An odd expression came into his handsome face, and he said in a low anddreamy voice:

"I think that almost every man will live to tell that story--yet, I cannever hear myself telling the tale in years to come. "

On paths and new-made highways we began to encounter people andcattle--now a long line of oxen laden with military stores or withcanoes and flatboats, and conducted by batt-men in smock and frock, nowa sweating company of military surveyors from headquarters, burdenedwith compass, chain, and Jacob-staff, already running their lines intothe wilderness. Here trudged the frightened family of some settler, making toward the forts; there a company of troops came gaily marchingout on some detail, or perhaps, with fixed bayonets, herded sheep andcattle down some rutted road. 

It seemed scarce possible that we were already within scouting range ofthat never-to-be-forgotten region of Wyoming, where just one year agoold John Butler with his Rangers, his hell-born Senecas, and Johnson'sGreens, had done their bloody business; where, in "The Shades ofDeath, " a hundred frightened women and little children had perished inthat ghastly darkness. Also, we were but a few miles from that scene ofterror where, through the wintry dawn at Cherry Valley, young WalterButler damned his soul for all eternity while men, women, and children, old and young, died horribly amid the dripping knives and bayonets ofhis painted fiends, or fell under the butchering hatchets of hisSenecas. 

I could see that Boyd also was thinking of this ghastly business, as Icaught his sombre eye. He seemed to shudder, then:

"Patience, " he muttered grimly, with a significant nod toward theSiwanois, who strode silently between our horses. "We have our guide atlast. A Siwanois hates the Iroquois no more fiercely than do wewhite-skins. Wait till he leads our van within rifle-range ofCatharines-town! And if Walter Butler be there, or that bloodless beastSir John, or Brant, or any of that hell-brood, and if we let them getaway, may God punish us with the prisoner's fire! Amen. "

Never before had I heard him speak that way, or with such savagefeeling; and his manner of expression, and the uncanny words he usedconcerning fire caused me to shudder, too--knowing that if he had everdreaded anything it was the stake, and the lingering death that lastedtill the very soul lay burnt to cinders before the tortured body died. We exchanged no further conversation; many people passed and repassedus; the woods opened somewhat; the jolly noise of axes resounded nearat hand among the trees. 

Just ahead of us the road from Mattisses' Grist Mill and Stoney Killjoined ours, where stood the Low Dutch Church. Above us lay the MiddleFort, and the roads to Cherry Valley and Schenectady forked beyond itby the Lutheran Church and the Lower Fort. We took the Cherry ValleyRoad. 

Here, through this partly cleared and planted valley of the ScoharieKill, between the river and the lake, was now gathering a greatconcourse of troops and of people; and all the roads were lively withtheir comings and goings. Every woodland rang with the racket of theirsaws and axes; over the log bridges rumbled their loaded transportwagons; road and trail were filled with their crowding cattle; thewheels of Eckerson's and Becker's grist mills clattered and creakedunder the splash of icy, limpid waters, and everywhere men werehammering and sawing and splitting, erecting soldiers' huts, huts forsettlers, sheds, stables, store-houses, and barracks to shelter thismotley congregation assembling here under the cannon of the Upper Fort, the Lower, and the Middle. 

As we rode along, many faces we passed were familiar to us; weencountered officers from our own corps and from other regiments, withwhom we were acquainted, and who greeted us gaily or otherwise, according to their temper and disposition. But everybody--officers, troops, batt-men--looked curiously at our Siwanois Indian, who returnedthe compliment not at all, but with stately stride and expressionlessvisage moved straight ahead of him, as though he noticed nothing. 

Twice since we had started at daybreak that morning, I had managed tolag behind and question him concerning the maid who now sharedwell-nigh every thought of mine--asking if he knew who she was, andwhere she came from, and why she journeyed, and whither. 

He answered--when he replied at all--that he had no knowledge of thesethings. And I knew he lied, but did not know how I might make him speak. 

Nor would he tell me how and when she had slipped away from me thenight before, or where she had likely gone, pretending that I had beenmistaken when I told him I had seen him watching us beside thestar-illumined stream. 

"Mayaro slept, " he said quite calmly. "The soldier, Mount, stoodfire-guard. Of what my brother Loskiel and this strange maiden didunder the Oneida Dancers and the Belt of Tamanund, Mayaro has noknowledge. "

Why should he lie? I did not know. And even were I to attempt toconfound his statement by an appeal to Mount, the rifleman mustcorroborate him, because doubtless the wily Siwanois had not awakenedMount to do his shift at sentry until the maid had vanished, leaving mesleeping. 

"Mayaro, " I said, "I ask these things only because I pity her and wishher well. It is for her safety I fear. Could you tell me where she mayhave gone?"

"Fowls to the home-yard; the wild bird to the wood, " he said gravely. "Where do the rosy-throated pigeons go in winter? Does my brotherLoskiel know where?"

"Sagamore, " I said earnestly, "this maid is no wild gypsy thing--norose-tinted forest pigeon. She has been bred at home, mannered andschooled. She knows the cote, I tell you, and not the bush, where thewild hawk hangs mewing in the sky. Why has she fled to the wildernessalone?"

The Indian said cunningly:

"Why has my brother Loskiel abandoned roof and fire for a bed on theforest moss?"

"A man must do battle for his own people, Sagamore. "

"A white maid may do what pleases her, too, for aught I know, " he saidindifferently. 

"Why does it please her to roam abroad alone?"

"How should I know?"

"You do know!"

"Loskiel, " he said, "if I know why, perhaps I know of other matters, too. Ask me some day--before they send you into battle. "

"What matters do you know of?"

"Ask me no more, Loskiel--until your conch-horns blowing in the forestsummon Morgan's men to battle. Then ask; and a Sagamore will answer--aSiwanois Mohican--of the magic clan. Hiero!"

That ended it; he had spoken, and I was not fool enough to urge him toanother word. 

And now, as I rode, my mind was still occupied with my growing concernfor the poor child I had come to pity so. Within me a furtivetenderness was growing which sometimes shamed, sometimes angered me, orleft me self-contemptuous, restless, or dully astonished that my pridepermitted it. For in my heart such sentiments for such a maid asthis--tenderness, consciousness of some subtlety about her thatattracted me--should have no place. There was every reason why I shouldpity her and offer aid; none why her grey eyes should hold my own; nonewhy the frail body of her in her rags should quicken any pulse of mine;none why my nearness to her should stop my heart and breath. 

Yet, all day long her face and slim shape haunted me--a certain sullensweetness of the lips, too--and I remembered the lithe grace of herlittle hands as she broke the morsels of that midnight meal and liftedthe cup of chilly water in which I saw the star-light dancing. And"Lord!" thought I, amazed at my own folly. "What madness lies in thesemidsummer solitudes, that I should harbor such fantastic thoughts?"

Seldom, as yet, had dream of woman vexed me--and when I dreamed at allit was but a tinselled figment that I saw--the echo, doubtless, of sometale I read concerning raven hair and rosy lips, and of a vague butwondrous fairness adorned most suitably in silks and jewels. 

Dimly I was resigned toward some such goal, first being full of honourswon with sword and spur, laden with riches, too, and territoriesstretching to those sunset hills piled up like sapphires north ofFrenchman's Creek. 

Out of the castled glory of the dawn, doubtless, I thought, would stepone day my vision--to admire my fame and riches. And her I'dmarry--after our good King had knighted me. 

Alas! For our good King had proved a bloody knave; my visionary landsand riches all had vanished; instead of silk attire and sword, I wore arifle-shirt and skinning-knife; and out of the dawn-born glory of thehills had stepped no silken damsel of romance to pause and worshipme--only a slender, ragged, grey-eyed waif who came indifferent as thechilly wind in spring; who went as April shadows go, leaving no tracebehind. 

We were riding by the High Dutch Church at last, and beyond, betweenthe roads to Duansboro and Cobus-Kill, we saw the tents and huts of theNew York brigade--or as much of it as had arrived--from which weexpected soon to be detached. 

On a cleared hill beyond the Lower Fort, where the Albany Road runsbeside the Fox-Kill, we saw the headquarters flag of the 4th brigade, and Major Nicholas Fish at his tent door, talking to McCrea, ourbrigade surgeon. 

Along the stream were the huts lately tenanted by Colonel Philip VanCortlandt's Second New York Regiment, which had gone off towardWyalusing. Schott's riflemen camped there now, and, as we rode by, thesoldiers stared at our Indian. Then we passed Gansevoort's ThirdRegiment, under tents and making ready to march; and the log cantonmentof Colonel Lamb's artillery, where the cannoneers saluted, then, for noreason, cheered us. Beyond were camped Alden's Regiment, I think, andin the rear the Fourth and Fifth New York. A fort flew our ownregimental flag beside the pretty banner of our new nation. 

"Oho!" said Boyd, with an oath. "I'm damned if I care for barracks whena bed in the open is good enough. Why the devil have they moved usindoors, do you think?"

I knew no more than did he, and liked our new quarters no better. 

At the fort gate the sentry saluted, and we dismounted. Our juniorensign, Benjamin Chambers, a smart young dandy, met us at theguard-house, directed Boyd to Captain Simpson's log quarters, and thenled the Sagamore inside. 

"Is this our Moses?" whispered the young ensign in my ear. "Egad, Loskiel, he looks a treacherous devil, in his paint, to lead us to thepromised land. "

"He is staunch, I think, " said I. "But for heaven's sake, Benny, are weto sleep in filthy barracks in July?"

"Not you, I hear, " he said, laughing, "----though they're clean enough, by the way! But the Major's orders were to build a hut for you and thispretty and fragrant aborigine down by the river, and lodge him thereunder your eye and nose and rifle. I admit very freely, Loskiel, no manin Morgan's envies you your bed-fellow!" And he whisked his nose with ascented handkerchief. 

"They would envy me if they knew this Sagamore as I think I know him, "said I, delighted that I was not to lie in barracks foul or clean. "Where is this same humble hut, my fashionable friend?"

"I'll show you presently. I think that Jimmy Parr desires to see yourgentle savage, " he added flippantly. 

We seated ourselves on the gate-bench to await the Major's summons; thedandified young ensign crossed the parade, mincing toward the quartersof Major Parr. And I saw him take a pinch o' the scented snuff heaffected, and whisk his supercilious nose again with his laced hanker. It seemed odd that a man like that should have saved our CaptainSimpson's life at Saratoga. 

Riflemen, drovers, batt-men, frontier farmers, and some of the dirtyflotsam--trappers, forest-runners, and the like--were continuallymoving about the parade, going and coming on petty, sordid business oftheir own; and there were women there, too--pallid refugees fromdistant farms, and now domiciled within the stockade; gaunt wives ofneighbouring settlers, bringing baskets of eggs or pails of milk tosell; and here and there some painted camp-wanton lingering by thegateway on mischief bent, or gossiping with some sister trull, theirbold eyes ever roving. 

Presently our mincing ensign came to us again, saying that the Sagamoreand I were to report ourselves to the Major. 

"Jimmy Parr is in good humour, " he whispered. "Leave him in thattemper, for mercy's sake, Loskiel; he's been scarcely amiable since youleft to catch this six-foot savage for him. "

He was a brave soldier, our Major, a splendid officer, and a kind andChristian man, but in no wise inclined to overlook the delinquencies ofyouthful ensigns; and he had rapped our knuckles soundly more thanonce. But we all loved him in our small mess of five--Captain Simpson, Lieutenant Boyd, and we two ensigns; and I think he knew it. Had wedisliked him, among ourselves we would have dubbed him James, intendingthereby disrespect; but to us he was Jimmy, flippantly, perhaps, butwith a sure affection under all our impudence. And I think, too, thathe knew we spoke of him among ourselves as Jimmy, and did not mind. 

"Well, sir, " he said sternly, as I entered with the Sagamore and gavehim the officer's salute, "I have a good report of you from LieutenantBoyd. I am gratified, Mr. Loskiel, that my confidence in your abilityand in your knowledge of the Indians was not misplaced. And you mayinform me now, sir, how it is proper for me to address this Indianguide. "

I glanced at Captain Simpson and Lieutenant Boyd, hesitating for amoment. Then I said:

"Mayaro is a Sagamore, Major--a noble and an ensign of a uniqueclan--the Siwanois, or magic clan, of the Mohican tribe of the greatDelaware nation. You may address him as an equal. Our General Schuylerwould so address him. The corps of officers in this regiment can scarcedo less, I think. "

Major Parr nodded, quietly offered his hand to the silent Siwanois, and, holding that warrior's sinewy fist in an iron grip that matchedit, named him to Captain Simpson. Then, looking at me, he said slowly, in English:

"Mayaro is a great chief among his people--great in war, wise incouncil and debate. The Sagamore of the Siwanois Mohicans is welcome inthis army and at the headquarters of this regiment. He is now one ofus; his pay is the pay of a captain in the rifles. By order of GeneralClinton, commanding the Fourth, or New York, Brigade, I am requested tosay to the Mohican Sagamore that valuable presents will be offered himfor his services by General Sullivan, commander-in-chief of this army. These will be given when the Mohican successfully conducts this army tothe Genessee Castle and to Catharines-town. I have spoken. "

And to me he added bluntly:

"Translate, Mr. Loskiel. "

"I think the Sagamore has understood, sir, " said I. "Is it not so, Sagamore?"

"Mayaro has understood, " said the Indian quietly. 

"Does the great Mohican Sagamore accept?"

"My elder brother, " replied the Sagamore calmly, "Mayaro has pledgedhis word to his younger brother Loskiel. A Mohican Sagamore never lies. Loskiel is my friend. Why should I lie to him? A Sagamore speaks thetruth. "

Which was true in a measure, at least as far as wanton or idle lying isconcerned, or cowardly lying either, But he had lied to me concerninghis knowledge of the strange maid, Lois, which kind of untruth allIndians consider more civil than a direct refusal to answer a question. 

Boyd stood by, smiling, as the Major very politely informed me of thedisposition he had made of the Sagamore and myself, recommended Mayaroto my most civil attention, and added that, for the present, I wasrelieved from routine duty with my battalion. 

If the Siwanois perceived any undue precaution in the Major's manner oflodging him, he did not betray by the quiver of an eyelash that hecomprehended he was practically under guard. He stalked forth andacross the parade beside me, head high, bearing dignified and tranquil. 

At the outer gate our junior ensign languidly dusted a speck of snufffrom his wristband, and indicated the roof of our hut, which wasvisible above the feathery river willows. So we proceeded thither, Iresigning my horse to the soldier, Mount, who had been holding him, andwho was now detailed to act as soldier-servant to me still. 

"Jack, " said I, "if there be fresh-baked bread in the regimental ovensyonder, fetch a loaf, in God's name. I could gnaw black-birch andreindeer moss, so famished am I--and the Sagamore, too, no doubt, couldrattle a flam with a wooden spoon. "

But our chief baker was a Low-Dutch dog from Albany; and it was notuntil I had bathed me in the Mohawk, burrowed into my soldier's chest, and put on clean clothing that Jack Mount managed to steal the loaf hehad asked for in vain. And this, with a bit of salt beef and a bowl offresh milk, satisfied the Siwanois and myself. 

I had been relieved of all routine duty, and was henceforth detailed toforegather with, amuse, instruct and casually keep an eye on myMohican. In other words, my only duty, for the present, was to act asmentor to the Sagamore, keep him pleasantly affected toward our cause, see that he was not tampered with, and that he had his bellyful threetimes a day. Also, I was to extract from him in advance any informationconcerning the Iroquois country that he might have knowledge of. 

It was a warm and pleasant afternoon along the river where thebatteaux, loaded with stores and soldiers, were passing up, and Oneidacanoes danced across the sparkling water toward Fort Plain. 

Many of our soldiers were bathing, sporting like schoolboys in thewater; Lamb's artillerymen had their horses out to let them swim; manyof the troops were washing their shirts along the gravelly reaches, or, seated cross-legged on the bank, were mending rents with needle andthread. Half a dozen Oneida Indians sat gravely smoking and blinking atthe scene--no doubt belonging to our corps of runners, scouts, andguides, for all were shaved, oiled, and painted for war, and, undertheir loosened blankets, I could see their lean and supple bodies, stark naked, except for clout and ankle moccasin. 

I sat in the willow-shade before the door of our hut, cross-legged, too, writing in my journal of what had occurred since last I set downthe details of the day. This finished, I pouched quill, ink-horn, andjournal, and sat a-thinking for a while of that strange maid, and whatmischance might come of her woodland roving all alone--with IndianButler out, and all that vile and painted, blue-eyed crew underMcDonald. 

Sombre thoughts assailed me there on that sunny July afternoon; Irested my elbow on my knee, forehead pressed against my palm, pondering. And ever within my breast was I conscious of a faint, dullaching--a steady and perceptible apprehension which kept me restless, giving my mind no peace, my brooding thoughts no rest. 

That this shabby, wandering girl had so gained me, spite of therudeness with which she used me, I could never seem to understand; forshe had done nothing to win even my pity, and she was but a raggedgypsy thing, and had conducted with scant courtesy. 

Why had I given her my ring? Was it only because I pitied her anddesired to offer her a gift she might sell when necessary? Why had Iused her as a comrade--who had been but the comrade of an hour? Why hadI been so loath to part with her whom I scarce had met? What was it inher that had fixed my attention? What allure? What unusual quality?What grace of mind or person?

A slender, grey-eyed gypsy-thing in rags! And I could no longer rid mymind of her!

What possessed me? To what lesser nature in me was such a woman as thisappealing? I would have been ashamed to have any officer or man of mycorps see me abroad in company with her. I knew it well enough. I knewthat if in this girl anything was truly appealing to my unquiet heart Ishould silence even the slightest threat of any response--discourage, ignore, exterminate the last unruly trace of sentiment in her regard. 

Yet I remained there motionless, thinking, thinking--her faded rosebudlying in my hand, drooping but still fragrant. 

Dismiss her from my thoughts I could not. The steady, relentless desireto see her; the continual apprehension that some mischance mightovertake her, left me no peace of mind, so that the memory of her, notyet a pleasure even, nagged, nagged, nagged, till every weary nerve inme became unsteady. 

I stretched out above the river bank, composing my body to rest--sleepperhaps. But flies and sun kept me awake, even if I could have quietedmy mind. 

So up again, and walked to the hut door, where within I beheld theSagamore gravely repainting himself with the terrific emblems of death. He was seated cross-legged on the floor, my camp mirror before him--asuperb specimen of manhood, naked save for clout, beaded sporran, and apair of thigh moccasins, the most wonderful I had ever seen. 

I admired his war-girdle and moccasins, speaking somewhat carelessly ofthe beautiful shell-work designs as "wampum"--an Iroquois term. 

"Seawan, " he said coldly, correcting me and using the softer Siwanoisterm. Then, with that true courtesy which ever seeks to ease a meritedrebuke, he spoke pleasantly concerning shell-beads, and how they weremade and from what, and how it was that the purple beads were the gold, the white beads the silver, and the black beads the copper equivalentsin English coinage. And so we conducted very politely and agreeablythere in the hut, the while he painted himself like a ghastly death, and brightened the scarlet clan-symbol tatooed on his breast bytouching its outlines with his brilliant paint. Also, he rebraided hisscalp-lock with great care, doubtless desiring that it should appear agenteel trophy if taken from him, and be an honour to his conqueror andhimself. 

These matters presently accomplished, he drew from their soft andbeaded sheaths hatchet and knife, and fell to shining them up asindustriously as a full-fed cat polishes her fur. 

"Mayaro, " said I, amused, "is a battle then near at hand that you makeso complete a preparation for it?"

A half-smile appeared for a moment on his lips:

"It is always well to be prepared for life or death, Loskiel, myyounger brother. "

"Oho!" said I, smiling. "You understood the express rider when he saidthat Indians had fired on our pickets a week ago!"

The stern and noble countenance of the Sagamore relaxed into thesunniest of smiles. 

"My little brother is very wise. He has discovered that the Siwanoishave ears like white men. "

"Aye--but, Sagamore, I was not at all certain that you understood inEnglish more than 'yes' and 'no. '"

"Is it because, " he inquired with a merry glance at me, "my brother hasonly heard as yet the answer 'no' from Mayaro?"

I bit my lip, reddened, and then laughed at the slyly tauntingreference to my lack of all success in questioning him concerning thelittle maiden, Lois. 

At the same time, I realized on what a friendly footing I already stoodwith this Mohican. Few white men ever see an Iroquois or a Delawarelaugh; few ever witness any relaxation in them or see their coldlydignified features alter, except in scorn, suspicion, pride, and anger. Only in time of peace and amid their own intimates or families do ourEastern forest Indians put off the expressionless and dignified maskthey wear, and become what no white man believes them capable ofbecoming--human, tender, affectionate, gay, witty, talkative, as themoment suits. 

At Guy Park, even, I had never seen an Iroquois relax in dignity andhauteur, though, of course, it was also true that Guy Johnson was nevera man to inspire personal confidence or any intimacy. Nor was WalterButler either; and Brant and his Mohawks detested and despised him. 

But I had been told that Indians--I mean the forest Indians, not thevile and filthy nomad butchers of the prairies--were like ourselves inour own families; and that, naturally, they were a kindly, warm-hearted, gay, and affectionate people, fond of their wives andchildren, and loyal to their friends. 

Now, I could not but notice how, from the beginning, this Siwanois hadconducted, and how, when first we met, his eye and hand met mine. Andever since, also--even when I was watching him so closely--in my heartI really found it well-nigh impossible to doubt him. 

He spoke always to me in a manner very different to that of any IndianI had ever known. And now it seemed to me that from the very first Ihad vaguely realized a sense of unwonted comradeship with this Siwanois. 

At all events, it was plain enough now that, for some reason unknown tome, this Mohican not only liked me, but so far trusted me--entertained, in fact, so unusual a confidence in me--that he even permitted himselfto relax and speak to me playfully, and with the light familiarity ofan elder brother. 

"Sagamore, " I said, "my heart is very anxious for the safety of thislittle forest-running maid. If I could find her, speak to her again, Ithink I might aid her. "

Mayaro's features became smooth and blank. 

"What maiden is this my younger brother fears for?" he asked mildly. 

"Her name is Lois. You know well whom I mean. "

"Hai!" he exclaimed, laughing softly. "Is it still the rosy-throatedpigeon of the forest for whom my little brother Loskiel is spreadingnets?"

My face reddened again, but I said, smilingly:

"If Mayaro laughs at what I say, all must be well with her. My elderbrother's heart is charitable to the homeless. "

"And to children, also, " he said very quietly. And added, with a gleamof humour, "All children, O Loskiel, my littlest brother! Is not myheart open to you?"

"And mine to you, Mayaro, my elder brother. "

"Yet, you watched me at the fire, every night, " he said, with keenestdelight sparkling in his dark eyes. 

"And yet I tracked and caught you after all!" I said, smiling throughmy slight chagrin. 

"Is my little brother very sure I did not know he followed me?" heasked, amused. 

"Did you know, Mayaro?"

The Siwanois made a movement of slight, but good-humoured, disdain:

"Can my brother who has no wings track and follow the October swallow?"

"Then you were willing that I should see the person to whom you broughtfood under the midnight stars?"

"My brother has spoken. "

"Why were you willing that I should see?"

"Where there are wild pigeons there are hawks, Loskiel. But perhaps therosy throat could not understand the language of a Siwanois. "

"You warned her not to rove alone?"

He inclined his head quietly. 

"She refused to heed you! Is that true? She left Westchester in spiteof your disapproval?"

"Loskiel does not lie. "

"She must be mad!" I said, with some heat. "Had she not managed to keepour camp in view, what had become of her now, Sagamore?" I added, reluctantly admitting by implication yet another defeat for me. 

"Of course I know that you must have kept in communication withher--though how you did so I do not know. "

The Siwanois smiled slyly. 

"Who is she? What is she, Mayaro? Is she, after all, but a camp-gypsyof the better class? I can not believe it--yet--she roves the world intatters, haunting barracks and camps. Can you not tell me somethingconcerning her?"

The Indian made no reply. 

"Has she made you promise not to?"

He did not answer, but I saw very plainly that this was so. 

Mystified, perplexed, and more deeply troubled than I cared to admit tomyself, I rose from the door-sill, buckled on belt, knife, and hatchet, and stood looking out over the river in silence for a while. 

The Siwanois said pleasantly, yet with a hidden hint of malice:

"If my brother desires to walk abroad in the pleasant weather, Mayarowill not run away. Say so to Major Parr. "

I blushed furiously at the mocking revelation that he had noted andunderstood the precautions of Major Parr. 

"Mayaro, " I said, "I trust you. See! You are confided to me, I amresponsible for you. If you leave I shall be disgraced. But--Siwanoisare free people! The Sagamore is my elder brother who will not blackenmy face or cast contempt upon my uniform. See! I trust my brotherMayaro, I go. "

The Sagamore looked me square in the eye with a face which was utterlyblank and expressionless. Then he gathered his legs under him, sprangnoiselessly to his feet, laid his right hand on the hilt of my knife, and his left one on his own, drew both bright blades with asimultaneous and graceful movement, and drove his knife into my sheath, mine into his own. 

My heart stood still; I had never expected even to witness such anact--never dared believe that I should participate in it. 

The Siwanois drew my knife from his sheath, touched the skin of hiswrist with the keen edge. I followed his example; on our wrists twobright spots of blood beaded the skin. 

Then the Sagamore filled a tin cup with clean water and extended hiswrist. A single drop of blood fell into it. I did the same. 

Then in silence still, he lifted the cup to his lips, tasted it, andpassed it to me. I wet my lips, offered it to him again. And verysolemnly he sprinkled the scarcely tinted contents over the grass atthe door-sill. 

So was accomplished between this Mohican and myself the rite of bloodbrotherhood--an alliance of implicit trust and mutual confidence whichonly death could end. 

CHAPTER VI

THE SPRING WAIONTHA

It happened the following afternoon that, having written in my journal, and dressed me in my best, I left the Mohican in the hut a-painting andshining up his weapons, and walked abroad to watch the remaining troopsand the artillery start for Otsego Lake. 

A foot regiment--Colonel Gansevoort's--had struck tents and marchedwith its drums and colours early that morning, carrying also theregimental wagons and batteaux. However, I had been told that thisveteran regiment was not to go with the army into the Iroquois country, but was to remain as a protection to Tryon County. But now ColonelLamb's remaining section of artillery was to march to the lake; andwhether this indicated that our army at last was fairly in motion, nobody knew. Yet, it seemed scarcely likely, because Lieutenant Boydhad been ordered out with a scout of twenty men toward the West branchof the Delaware, and he told me that he expected to be absent forseveral days. Besides, it was no secret that arms had not yet beenissued and distributed to all the recruits in the foot regiments; thatSchott's riflemen had not yet drawn their equipment, and that as yet wehad not collected half the provisions required for an extensivecampaign, although nearly every day the batteaux came up the river withstores from Schenectady and posts below. 

Strolling up from the river that afternoon, very fine in my best, and, I confess, content with myself except for the lack of hair powder, queue, and ribbon, which ever disconcerted me, I saw already the twoguns of the battalion of artillery moving out of their cantonment, thelimbers, chests, and the forge well horsed and bright with polish andpaint, the men somewhat patched and ragged, but with queues smartlytied and heads well floured. 

Had our cannoneers been properly and newly uniformed, it had been afine and stirring sight, with the artillery bugle-horn sounding themarch, and the camp trumpets answering, and Colonel Lamb riding aheadwith his mounted officers, very fine and nobly horsed, the flag flyingsmartly and most beautiful against the foliage of the terraced woods. 

A motley assembly had gathered to see them march out; our GeneralClinton and his staff, in the blue and buff of the New York Line, hadcome over, and all the officers and soldiers off duty, too, as well asthe people of the vicinity, and a horde of workmen, batteaux-men, andforest runners, including a dozen Oneida Indians of the guides. 

Poor Alden's 6th Massachusetts foot regiment, which was just leavingfor the lake on its usual road-mending detail, stood in spiritlesssilence to see the artillery pass; their Major, Whiting, as well as thesullen rank and file, seeming still to feel the disgrace of CherryValley, where their former colonel lost his silly life, and MajorStacia was taken, and still remained a prisoner. 

As for us of Morgan's, we were very sorry for the mortified NewEnglanders, yet not at all forgetful of their carping and insolentattitude toward the ragged New York Line--where at least the majorityof our officers were gentlemen and where proper and military regard forrank was most decently maintained. Gad! To hear your New Englandertalk, a man might think that this same war was being maintained andfought by New England alone. And, damn them, they got Schuyler laidaside after all. But the New York Line went about its grim and patientbusiness, unheeding their New England arrogance as long as HisExcellency understood the truth concerning the wretched situation. AndI for one marvelled that the sniffling 'prentices of Massachusetts andthe Connecticut barbers and tin-peddlers had the effrontery to boast ofNew England valour while that arch-malcontent, Ethan Allen, and hispetty and selfish yokels of Vermont, openly defied New York andCongress, nor scrupled to conduct most treasonably, to theireverlasting and black disgrace. No Ticonderoga, no Bennington, couldwipe out that outrageous treachery, or efface the villainy of what wasdone to Schuyler--the man who knew no fear, the officer withoutreproach. 

The artillery jolted and clinked away down the rutty road which theirwheels and horses cut into new and deeper furrows; a veil of violetdust hung in their wake, through which harness, cannon, and drawncutlass glittered and glimmered like sunlit ripples through a mist. 

Then came our riflemen marching as escort, smart and gay in their brownforest-dress, the green thrums rippling and flying from sleeve andleggin' and open double-cape, and the raccoon-tails all a-bobbingbehind their caps like the tails that April lambkins wriggle. 

Always the sight of my own corps thrilled me. I thanked God for thosebig, sun-masked men with their long, silent, gliding stride, theirshirts open to their mighty chests, and the heavy rifles all swingingin glancing unison on their caped shoulders, carried as lightly as somany reeds. 

I stood at salute as our Major and Captain Simpson strode by; grinnedever so little as Boyd came swinging along, his naked cutlass drawn, scarlet fringes tossing on his painted cape. He whispered as he passed:

"Murphy and Elerson took two scalps last night. They're drying on hoopsin the barracks. Look and see if they be truly Seneca. "

At that I was both startled and disgusted; but it was well-nighimpossible to prevent certain of our riflemen who had once beenwood-runners from treating the Iroquois as the Iroquois treated them. And they continued to scalp them as naturally as they once had clippedpads and ears from panther and wolf. Mount and the rifleman Renard nolonger did it, and I had thought to have persuaded Murphy and Elersonto conduct more becoming. But it seemed that I had failed. 

My mind was filled with resentful thoughts as I entered the Lower Fortand started across the swarming parade toward the barracks, meaning tohave a look at these ghastly trophies and judge to what nation theybelonged. 

People of every walk in life were passing and repassing where ourregimental wagons were being loaded, and I threaded my way with samedifficulty amid a busy throng, noticing nobody, unless it were one ofmy own corps who saluted my cockade. 

Halfway across, a young woman bearing a gunny-sack full of linengarments and blankets to be washed blocked my passage, and being awoman I naturally gave her right of way. And the next instant saw itwas Lois. 

She had averted her head, and was now hurriedly passing on, and Iturned sharply on my heel and came up beside her. 

"Lois, " I managed to say with a voice that was fairly steady, "have youforgotten me?"

Her head remained resolutely averted; and as I continued beside her, she said, without looking at me:

"Do you not understand that you are disgracing yourself by speaking tome on the parade? Pass on, sir, for your own sake. "

"I desire to speak to you, " I said obstinately. 

"No. Pass on before any officers see you!"

My face, I know, was fiery red, and for an instant all the ridicule, the taunts, the shame which I might well be storing up for myself, burned there for anyone to see. But stronger than fear of ridicule rosea desperate determination not to lose this maid again, and whether whatI was doing was worthy, and for her sake, or unworthy, and for my own, I did not understand or even question. 

"I wish to talk with you, " I said doggedly. "I shall not let you gothis time. "

"Are you mad to so conduct under the eyes of the whole fort?" shewhispered. "Go your way!"

"I'd be madder yet to let you get away again. My way is yours. "

She halted, cheeks blazing, and looked at me for the first time. 

"I ask you not to persist, " she said, "----for my sake if not foryours. What an officer or a soldier says to a girl in this fort makesher a trull in the eyes of any man who sees. Do you so desire to brandme, Mr. Loskiel?"

"No, " I said between my teeth, and turned to leave her. And, I think, it was something in my face that made her whisper low and hurriedly:

"Waiontha Spring! If you needs must see me for a moment more, comethere!"

I scarcely heard, so tight emotion had me by the throat, and walked onblindly, all a-quiver. Yet, in my ears the strange wards sounded:"Waiontha--Waiontha--come to the Spring Waiontha--if you needs must seeme. "

On a settle before the green-log barrack, some of Schott's riflemenwere idling, and now stood, seeing an officer. 

"Boys, " I said, "where is this latest foolery of Tim Murphy hung todry?"

They seemed ashamed, but told me, As I moved on, I said carelessly, partly turning:

"Where is the Spring Waiontha?"

"On the Lake Trail, sir--first branch of the Stoney-Kill. "

"Is there a house there?"

"Rannock's. "

"A path to find it?"

"A sheep walk only. Rannock is dead. The destructives murdered him whenthey burned Cherry Valley. Mrs. Rannock brings us eggs and milk. "

I walked on and entered the smoky barracks, and the first thing I sawwas a pair o' scalps, stretched and hooped, a-dangling from the rafters. 

Doubtless, Murphy and Elerson meant to sew them to their bullet poucheswhen cured and painted. And there was one reckless fellow in my companywho wore a baldrick fringed with Shawanese scalps; but as these sameShawanese had murdered his father, mother, grandmother, and threelittle brothers, no officer rebuked him, although it was a horrid andsavage trophy; but if the wearing of it were any comfort to him I donot know. 

I looked closely at the ornamented scalps, despite my repugnance. Theywere not Mohawk, not Cayuga, nor Onondaga. Nor did they seem to me likeSeneca, being not oiled and braided clean, but tagged at the root withthe claws of a tree-lynx. They were not Oneida, not Lenape. Therefore, they must be Seneca scalps. Which meant that Walter Butler and thatspawn of satan, Sayanquarata, were now prowling around our outerpickets. For the ferocious Senecas and their tireless war-chief, Sayanquarata, were Butler's people; the Mohawks and Joseph Brantholding the younger Butler in deep contempt for the cruelty he didpractice at Cherry Valley. 

Suddenly a shaft of fear struck me like a swift arrow in the breast, asI thought of Butler and of his Mountain Snakes, and of that mad child, Lois, a-gypsying whither her silly inclination led her; and Death inthe forest-dusk watching her with a hundred staring eyes. 

"This time, " I muttered, "I shall put a stop to all herforest-running!" And, at the thought, I turned and passed swiftlythrough the doorway, across the thronged parade, out of the gate. 

Hastening my pace along the Lake Road, meeting many people at first, then fewer, then nobody at all, I presently crossed the first littlebrook that feeds the Stoney-Kill, leaping from stone to stone. Here inthe woods lay the Oneida camp. I saw some squaws there sewing. 

The sheep walk branched a dozen yards beyond, running northward throughwhat had been a stump field. It was already grown head-high in weedsand wild flowers, and saplings of bird-cherry, which spring up whereverfire has passed. A few high corn-stalks showed what had been plantedthere a year ago. 

After a few moments following the path, I found that the field endedabruptly, and the solid walls of the forest rose once more like greencliffs towering on every side. And at their base I saw a house of logs, enclosed within a low brush fence, and before it a field of brush. 

Shirts and soldiers' blankets lay here and there a-drying on thebushes; a wretched garden-patch showed intensely green between a wasteof fire-blackened stumps. I saw chickens in a coop, and a cow switchingforest flies. A cloud of butterflies flew up as I approached, where therunning water of a tiny rill made muddy hollows on the path. Thisdoubtless must be the outlet to Waiontha Spring, for there to the lefta green lane had been bruised through the elder thicket; and this Ifollowed, shouldering my way amid fragrant blossom and sun-hot foliage, then through an alder run, and suddenly out across a gravelly reachwhere water glimmered in a still and golden pool. 

Lois knelt there on the bank. The soldiers' linen I had seen in herarms was piled beside her. In a willow basket, newly woven, I saw aheap of clean, wet shirts and tow-cloth rifle-frocks. 

She heard me behind her--I took care that she should--but she made nosign that she had heard or knew that I was there. Even when I spoke shecontinued busy with her suds and shirts; and I walked around thegravelly basin and seated myself near her, cross-legged on the sand, both hands clasping my knees. 

"Well?" she asked, still scrubbing, and her hair was fallen in curlsabout her brow--hair thicker and brighter, though scarce longer, thanmy own. But Lord! The wild-rose beauty that flushed her cheeks as shelaboured there! And when she at last looked up at me her eyes seemedlike two grey stars, full of reflections from the golden pool. 

"I have come, " said I, "to speak most seriously. "

"What is it you wish?"

"A comrade's privilege. "

"And what may that be, sir?"

"The right to be heard; the right to be answered--and a comrade'sprivilege to offer aid. "

"I need no aid. "

"None living can truthfully say that, " said I pleasantly. 

"Oh! Do you then require charity from this pleasant world we live in?"

"I did not offer charity to you. "

"You spoke of aid, " she said coldly. 

"Lois--is there in our brief companionship no memory that may warrantmy speaking as honestly as I speak to you?"

"I know of none, Do you?"

I had been looking at her chilled pink fingers. My ring was gone. 

"A ring for a rose is my only warrant, " I said. 

She continued to soap the linen and to scrub in silence. After she hadfinished the garment and wrung it dry, she straightened her supplefigure where she was kneeling, and, turning toward me, searched in herbosom with one little, wet hand, drawing from it a faded ribbon onwhich my ring hung. 

"Do you desire to have it of me again?" she asked, without anyexpression on her sun-freckled face. 

"What? The ring?"

"Aye! Desire it!" I repeated, turning red. "No more than you desire thewithered bud you left beside me while I slept. "

"What bud, sir?"

"Did you not leave me a rose-bud?"

"I?"

"And a bit of silver birch-bark scratched with a knife point?"

"Now that I think of it, perhaps I may have done so--or some suchthing--scarce knowing what I was about--and being sleepy. What was itthat I wrote? I can not now remember--being so sleepy when I did it. "

"And that is all you thought about it, Lois?"

"How can one think when half asleep''

"Here is your rose, " I said angrily. "I will take my ring again. "

She opened her grey eyes at that. 

"Lord!" she murmured in an innocent and leisurely surprise. "You haveit still, my rose? Are roses scarce where you inhabit, sir? For if youfind the flower so rare and curious I would not rob you of it--no!"And, bending, soaked and soaped another shirt. 

"Why do you mock me, Lois?"

"I! Mock you! La! Sir, you surely jest. "

"You do so! You have done so ever since we met. I ask you why?" Irepeated, curbing my temper. 

"Lord!" she murmured, shaking her head. "The young man is surely goingstark! A girl in my condition--such a girl as I mock at an officer anda gentleman? No, it is beyond all bounds; and this young man issuffering from the sun. "

"Were it not, " said I angrily, "that common humanity brought me hereand bids me remain for the moment, I would not endure this. "

"Heaven save us all!" she sighed. "How very young is this young man whocomes complaining here that he is mocked--when all I ventured was tomarvel that he had found a wild rose-bud so rare and precious!"

I said to myself: "Damn! Damn!" in fierce vexation, yet knew not how totake her nor how to save my dignity. And she, with head averted, waslaughing silently; I could see that, too; and never in my life had Ibeen so flouted to my face. 

"Listen to me!" I broke out bluntly. "I know not who or what you are, why you are here, whither you are bound. But this I do know, thatbeyond our pickets there is peril in these woods, and it is madness forman or maid to go alone as you do. "

The laughter had died out in her face. After a moment it became grave. 

"Was it to tell me this that you spoke to me in the fort, Mr. Loskiel?"she asked. 

"Yes, Two days ago our pickets were fired on by Indians. Last night tworiflemen of our corps took as many Seneca scalps. Do you suppose thatwhen I heard of these affairs I did not think of you--remembering whatwas done but yesterday at Cherry Valley?"

"Did you--remember--me?"

"Good God, yes!" I exclaimed, my nerves on edge again at the merememory of her rashness. "I came here as a comrade--wishing to be ofservice, and--you have used me----"

"Vilely, " she said, looking serenely at me. 

"I did not say that, Lois----"

"I say it, Mr. Loskiel. And yet--I told you where to find me. That ismuch for me to tell to any man. Let that count a little to my damagedcredit with you. .. . And--I still wear the ring you gave. .. . And left arose for you, Let these things count a little in my favour. For you canscarcely guess how much of courage it had cost me. " She knelt there, her bared arms hanging by her side, the sun bright on her curls, staring at me out of those strange, grey eyes. 

"Since I have been alone, " she said in a low voice, "no man--unless bya miracle it be you--has offered me a service or a kindness except thathe awaited his reward. Soon or late their various songs became the samefamiliar air. It is the only song I've heard from men--with endlessvariations, truly, often and cunningly disguised--yet ever the same andsorry theme. .. . Men are what God made them; God has seemed to fashionme to their liking--I scarce know how--seeing I walk in rags, unkempt, and stained with wind and rain, and leaf and earth and sun. "

She made a childish gesture, sweeping the curls aside with both herhands:

"I sheared my hair! Look at me, sir--a wild thing in a ragged shift andtattered gown--all burnt and roughened with the sun and wind--not evenclean to look on--yet that I am!--and with no friend to speak to savean Indian. .. . I ask you, sir, what it is in me--and what lack of pridemust lie in men that I can not trust myself to the company of one amongthem--not one! Be he officer, or common soldier--all are the same. "

She dropped her head, and, thoughtfully, her hands again crept up andwandered over her cheeks and hair, the while her grey eyes, fixed andremote, seemed lost in speculation. Then she looked up again:

"Why should I think to find you different?" she asked, "Is any mandifferent from his fellows, humble or great? Is it not man himself, notonly men, that I must face as I have faced you--with silence, or withsullen speech, or with a hardness far beyond my years, and a gaietythat means nothing more kind than insolence?"

Again her head fell on her breast, and her hands linked themselves onher knees as she knelt there in silence. 

"Lois, " I said, trying to think clearly, "I do not know that other menand I are different. Once I believed so. But--lately--I do not know. Yet, I know this: selfish or otherwise, I can not endure the thought ofyou in peril. "

She looked at me very gravely; then dropped her head once more. 

"I don't know, " I said desperately, "I wish to be honest--tell you nolie--tell none to myself. I--your beauty--has touched me--or whateverit is about you that attracts. And, whatever gown you go in, I scarcelysee it--somehow--finding you so--so strangely--lovely--in speechalso--and in--every way. .. . And now that I have not lied to you--or tomyself--in spite of what I have said, let me be useful to you. For Ican be; and perhaps these other sentiments will pass away----"

She looked up so suddenly that I ceased speaking, fearful of a rebuff;but saw only the grave, grey eyes looking straight into mine, and asudden, deeper colour waning from her cheeks. 

"Whatever I am, " said I, "I can be what I will. Else I were no man. Ifyour--beauty--has moved me, that need not concern you--and surely notalarm you. A woman's beauty is her own affair. Men take their chancewith it--as I take mine with yours--that it do me no deep damage. Andif it do, or do not, our friendship is still another matter; for itmeans that I wish you well, desire to aid you, ease your burdens, makeyou secure and safe, vary your solitude with a friendly word--I mean, Lois, to be to you a real comrade, if you will. Will you?"

After a moment she said:

"What was it that you said about my--beauty?"

"I take my chances that it do me no deep damage. "

"Oh! Am I to take my chance, too?"

"What chance?"

"That--your kindness do me--no damage?"

"What senseless talk is this you utter?"

She shook her head slowly, then:

"What a strange boy! I do not fear you. "

"Fear me?" I repeated, flushing hotly. "What is there to fear? I amneither yokel nor beast. "

"They say a gentleman should be more dreaded. "

I stared at her, then laughed:

"Ask yourself how far you need have dread of me--when, if you desireit, you can leave me dumb, dismayed, lip-bound by your mockingtongue--which God knows well I fear. "

"Is my tongue so bitter then? I did not know it. "

"I know it, " said I with angry emphasis. "And I tell you very freelythat----"

She stole a curious glance at me. Something halted me--an expression Ihad never yet seen there in her face, twitching at her lips--hoveringon them now--parting them in a smile so sweet and winning that, silenced by the gracious transformation, unexpected, I caught mybreath, astonished. 

"What is your given name?" she asked, still dimpling at me, and hereyes now but two blue wells of light. 

"Euan, " I said, foolish as a flattered schoolboy, and as awkward. 

"Euan, " she said, still smiling at me, "I think that I could be yourfriend--if you do truly wish it. What is it you desire of me? Ask meonce more, and make it very clear and plain. "

"Only your confidence; that is all I ask. "

"Oh! Is that all you ask of me?" she mimicked mockingly; but so sweether smile, and soft her voice, that I did not mind her words. 

"Remember, " said I, "that I am older than you. You are to tell me allthat troubles you. "

"When?"

"Now. "

"No. I have my washing to complete, And you must go. Besides, I havemending, darning, and my knitting yet to do. It all means bed and baitto me. "

"Will you not tell me why you are alone here, Lois?"

"Tell you what? Tell you why I loiter by our soldiers' camps like anypainted drab? I will tell you this much; I need no longer play thatshameless role. "

"You need not use those words in the same breath when speaking ofyourself, " I answered hotly. 

"Then--you do not credit ill of me?" she asked, a bright but somewhatfixed and painful smile on her red lips. 

"No!" said I bluntly. "Nor did I ever. "

"And yet I look the part, and seem to play it, too. And still youbelieve me honest?"

"I know you are. "

"Then why should I be here alone--if I am honest, Euan?"

"I do not know; tell me. "

"But--are you quite certain that you do not ask because you doubt me?"

I said impatiently: "I ask, knowing already you are good abovereproach. I ask so I may understand how best to aid you. "

A lovely colour stole into her cheeks. 

"You are kind, Euan. And it is true--though--" and she shrugged hershoulders, "what other man would credit it?" She lifted her head alittle and looked at me with clear, proud eyes:

"Well, let them say what they may in fort and barracks twixt thisfrontier and Philadelphia. The truth remains that I have been no man'smistress and am no trull. Euan, I have starved that I might remainexactly what I am at this moment. I swear to you that I stand hereunsullied and unstained under this untainted sky which the same Godmade who fashioned me. I have known shame and grief and terror; I havelain cold and ill and sleepless; I have wandered roofless, hunted, threatened, mocked, beset by men and vice. Soldiers have used meroughly--you yourself saw, there at the Poundridge barracks! And onlyyou among all men saw truly. Why should I not give to you myfriendship, unashamed?"

"Give it, " I said, more deeply moved than ever I had been. 

"I do! I do! Rightly or wrongly, now, at last, and in the end, I givemy honest heart and friendship to a man!" And with a quick and winninggesture she offered me her hand; and I took it firmly in my clasp, andfell a-trembling so I could not find a word to utter. 

"Come to me to-night, Euan, " she said. "I lodge yonder. There is a poorwidow there--a Mrs. Rannock--who took me in. They killed her husband inNovember. I am striving to repay her for the food and shelter sheaffords me. I have been given mending and washing at the fort. You seeI am no leech to fasten on a body and nourish me for nothing. So I dowhat I am able. Will you come to me this night?"

"Yes. " But I could not yet speak steadily. 

"Come then; I--I will tell you something of my miserable condition--ifyou desire to know. .. . Truly I think, speaking to no one, this long andunhappy silence has eaten and corroded part of me within--so ill am Iat moments with the pain and shame I've borne so long--so long, Euan!Ah--you do not--know. .. . And it may be that when you do come to-night Ihave repented of my purposes--locked up my wounded heart again. But Ishall try to tell you--something. For I need somebody--need kindlycouncil very sorely, Euan. And even the Sagamore now fails me--on thethreshold----"

"What?"

"He means it for the best; he fears for me. I will tell you how it iswith me when you come to-night. I truly desire to tell you--I--I needto tell you. Will you come to me?"

"On my honour, Lois. "

"Then--if you please, will you leave me now? I must do my washing andmending--and----" she smiled, "if you only knew how desperately I needwhat money I may earn. My garments, Euan, are like to fall from me ifthese green cockspur thorns give way. "

"But, Lois, " I said, "I have brought you money!" And I fished from anyhunting shirt a great, thick packet of those poor paper dollars, now insuch contempt that scarce five hundred of them counted for a dozengood, hard shillings. 

"What are you doing?" she said, so coldly that I ceased counting thelittle squares of currency and looked up at her surprised. 

"I am sharing my pay with you, " said I. "I have no silver--only these. "

"I can not take--money!"

"What?"

"Did you suppose I could?"

"Comrades have a common purse; Why not?"

For a few moments her face wore the same strange expression, then, of asudden her eyes filled and closed convulsively, and she turned herhead, motioning me to leave her. 

"Will you not share with me?" I asked, very hot about the ears. 

She shook her head and I saw her shoulders heave once or twice. 

"Lois, " I said gravely, "did you fear I hoped for some--reward?Child--little comrade--only the happiness of aiding you is what I askfor. Share with me then, I beg you. I am not poor. "

"No--I can not, Euan, " she answered in a stifled voice. "Is there anyshame to you in sharing with me?"

"Wait, " she whispered. "Wait till you hear. And--thank you--for--yourkindness. "

"I will be here to-night, " I said. "And when we know each other betterwe will share a common purse. "

She did not answer me. 

I lingered for a moment, desiring to reassure and comfort her, but knewnot how. And so, as she did not turn, I finally went away through thesunlit willows, leaving her kneeling there alone beside the goldenpool, her bright head drooping and her hands still covering her face. 

As I walked back slowly to the fort, I pondered how to be of aid toher; and knew not how. Had there been the ladies of any officers withthe army now, I should have laid her desperate case before them; butall had gone back to Albany before our scout of three returned fromWestchester. 

Here on the river, within our lines, while the army remained, she wouldbe safe enough from forest peril. Yet I burned and raged to think ofthe baser peril ever threatening her among men of her own speech andcolour. I suppose, considering her condition, they had a right to thinkher that which she was not and never had been. For honesty and maidenvirtue never haunted camps. Only two kinds of women tramped withregiments--the wives of soldiers, and their mistresses. 

Yet, somehow her safety must be now arranged, her worth and virtueclearly understood, her needs and dire necessities made known, so thatwhen our army moved she might find a shelter, kind and respectable, within the Middle Fort, or at Schenectady, or anywhere inside our lines. 

My pay was small; yet, having no soul dependent on my bounty andneeding little myself, I had saved these pitiable dollars that ourCongress paid us. Besides, I had a snug account with my solicitor inAlbany. She might live on that. I did not need it; seldom drew a penny;my pay more than sufficing. And, after the war had ended--ended----

Just here my heart beat out o' step, and thought was halted for amoment. But with the warm thought and warmer blood tingling me onceagain, I knew and never doubted that we had not done with one anotheryet, nor were like to, war or no war. For in all the world, and throughall the years of youth, I had never before encountered any woman whohad shared with me my waking thoughts and the last and conscious momentere I slept. But from the time I lost this woman out of my life, something seemed also missing from the world. And when again I foundher, life and the world seemed balanced and well rounded once again. And in my breast a strange calm rested me. 

As I walked along the rutty lake road, all hatched and gashed by theartillery, I made up my mind to one matter. "She must have clothes!"thought I, "and that's flat!" Perhaps not such as befitted her, butsomething immediate, and not in tatters--something stout thatthreatened not to part and leave her naked. For the brier-torn rags shewore scarce seemed to hold together; and her small, shy feet peepedthrough her gaping shoon in snowy hide-and-seek. 

Now, coming hither from the fort, I had already noticed on theStoney-Kill where our Oneidas lay encamped. So when I sighted the firstpainted tree and saw the stone pipe hanging, I made for it, and foundthere the Indians smoking pipes and not in war paint; and their womenand children were busy with their gossip, near at hand. 

As I had guessed, there by the fire lay a soft and heavy pack ofdoeskins, open, and a pretty Oneida matron sewing Dutch wampum on apainted sporran for her warrior lord. 

The lean and silent warriors came up as I approached, sullenly atfirst, not knowing what treatment to expect--more shame to the skin wetake our pride in!

One after another took the hand I offered in self-respecting silence. 

"Brothers, " I said, "I come to buy. Sooner or later your young men willput on red paint and oil their bodies. Even now I see your rifles andyour hatchets have been polished. Sooner or later the army will movefour hundred miles through a wilderness so dark that neither sun normoon nor stars can penetrate. The old men, the women, the children, andthe littlest ones still strapped to the cradle-board, must then remainbehind. Is it the truth I speak, my brothers?"

"It is the truth, " they answered very quietly, "Then, " said I, "theywill require food and money to buy with. Is it not true, Oneidas?"

"It is true, brother. "

I smiled and turned toward the women who were listening, and who nowlooked up at me with merry faces. 

"I have, " said I, "four hundred dollars. It is for the Oneida maid ormatron who will sell to me her pretty bridal dress of doeskin--thedress which she has made and laid aside and never worn. I buy hermarriage dress. And she will make another for herself against the hourof need. "

Two or three girls leaped laughing to their feet; but, "Wait!" said I. "This is for my little sister; and I must judge you where you stand, Oneida forest flowers, so I may know which one among you is most likemy little sister in height and girth and narrow feet. "

"Is our elder brother's little sister fat and comely?" inquired onegiggling and over-plump Oneida maid. 

"Not plump, " I said; and they all giggled. 

Another short one stood on tip-toe, asking bashfully if she were notthe proper height to suit me. 

But there was a third, graceful and slender, who had risen with therest, and who seemed to me nearer a match to Lois. Also, her naked, dusky feet were small and shapely. 

At a smiling nod from me she hastened into the family lodge andpresently reappeared with the cherished clothing. Fresh and soft andnew, she cast the garments on the moss and spread them daintily andproudly to my view for me to mark her wondrous handiwork. And it wastruly pretty--from the soft, wampum-broidered shirt with its hangingthrums, to the clinging skirt and delicate thigh-moccasins, wonderfullyfringed with purple and inset in most curious designs with paintedquills and beads and blue diamond-fronds from feathers of a littlejay-bird's wing. 

Bit by bit I counted out the currency; and it took some little time. But when it was done she took it eagerly enough, laughing her thanksand dancing away toward her lodge. And if her dusky sisters envied herthey smiled on me no less merrily as I took my leave of them. And verycourteously a stately chief escorted me to the campfire's edge. TheOneidas were ever gentlemen; and their women gently bred. 

Once more at my own hut door, I entered, with a nod to Mayaro, who satsmoking there in freshened war paint. One quick and penetrating glancehe darted at the Oneida garment on my arm, but except for that betrayedno curiosity. 

"Well, Mayaro, " said I, in excellent spirits, "you still wear war painthopefully, I see. But this army will never start within the week. "

The Siwanois smiled to himself and smoked. Then he passed the pipe tome. I drew it twice, rendered it. 

"Come, " said I, "have you then news that we take the war-trail soon?"

"The war-trail is always open for those who seek it. When my youngerbrother makes ready for a trail, does he summon it to come to him bymagic, or does he seek it on his two legs?"

"Are you hoping to go out with the scout to-night?" I asked. "Thatwould not do. "

"I go to-night with my brother Loskiel--to take the air, " he said slyly. 

"That may not be, " I protested, disconcerted. "I have business abroadto-night. "

"And I, " he said very seriously; but he glanced again at the prettygarments on my arm and gave me a merry look. 

"Yes, " said I, smilingly, "they are for her. The little lady hath noshoon, no skirt that holds together, save by the grace of cockspurthorns that bind the tatters. Those I have bought of an Oneida girl. And if they do not please her, yet these at least will hold together. And I shall presently write a letter to Albany and send it by the nextbatteau to my solicitor, who will purchase for her garments far moresuitable, and send them to the fort where soon, I trust, she will belodged in fashion more befitting. "

The Sagamore's face had become smooth and expressionless. I laid asidethe garments, fished out quill and inkhorn, and, lying flat on theground, wrote my letter to Albany, describing carefully the maid whowas to be fitted, her height, the smallness of her waist and foot aswell as I remembered. I wrote, too, that she was thin, but not toothin. Also I bespoke a box of French hair-powder for her, and buckledshoes of Paddington, and stockings, and a kerchief. 

"You know better than do I, " I wrote, "having a sister to care for, howwomen dress. They should have shifts, and hair-pegs, and a scarf, andfan, and stays, and scent, and hankers, and a small laced hat, notgilded; cloak, foot-mantle, sun-mask, and a chip hat to tie beneath thechin, and one such as they call after the pretty Mistress Gunning. Ifwomen wear banyans, I know not, but whatever they do wear in their ownprivacy at morning chocolate, in the French fashion, and whatever theydo sleep in, buy and box and send to me. And all the money banked withyou, put it in her name as well as mine, so that her draughts on it mayall be honoured. And this is her name----"

I stopped, dismayed, I did not know her name! And I was about to signfor her full power to share my every penny! Yet, my amazing madness didnot strike me as amazing or grotesque, that, within the hour, a maid ina condition such as hers was to divide my tidy fortune with me. Nay, more--for when I signed this letter she would be free to take what shedesired and even leave me destitute. 

I laughed at the thought--so midsummer mad was I upon that sunny Julyafternoon; and within me, like a hidden thicket full of birds, my heartwas singing wondrous tunes I never knew one note of. 

"O Sagamore, " I said, lifting my head, "tell me her surname now, because I need it for this business. And I forgot to ask her at theSpring Waiontha. "

For a full minute the Indian's countenance turned full on me remainedmoon-blank. Then, like lightning, flashed his smile. 

"Loskiel, my friend, and now my own blood-brother, what magic singingbirds have so enchanted your two ears. She is but a child, lonely andragged--a tattered leaf still green, torn from the stem by storm andstress, blown through the woodlands and whirled here and yonder byevery breath of wind. Is it fit that my brother Loskiel should noticesuch a woman?"

"She is in need, my brother. "

"Give, and pass on, Loskiel. "

"That is not giving, O my brother. "

"Is it to give alone, Loskiel? Or is it to give--that she may renderall?"

"Yes, honestly to give. Not to take. "

"And yet you know her not, Loskiel. "

"But I shall know her yet! She has so promised. If she is friendless, she shall be our friend. For you and I are one, O Sagamore! If she iscold, naked, or hungry, we will build for her a fire, and cover her, and give her meat. Our lodge shall be her lodge; our friends hers, herenemies ours. I know not how this all has come to me, Mayaro, myfriend--even as I know not how your friendship came to me, or how nowour honour is lodged forever in each other's keeping. But it is true. Our blood has made us of one race and parentage. "

"It is the truth, " he said. 

"Then tell me her name, that I may write it to my friend in Albany. "

"I do not know it, " he said quietly. 

"She never told you?"

"Never, " he said. "Listen, Loskiel. What I now tell to you with heartall open and my tongue unloosened, is all I know of her. It was inwinter that she came to Philipsburgh, all wrapped in her red cloak. TheWhite Plains Indians were there, and she was ever at their camp askingthe same and endless question. "

"What question, Mayaro?"

"That I shall also tell you, for I overheard it. But none among theWhite Plains company could answer her; no, nor no Congress soldier thatshe asked. 

"The soldiers were not unkind; they offered food and fire--as soldiersdo, Loskiel, " he added, with a flash of Contempt for men who soughtwhat no Siwanois, no Iroquois, ever did seek of any maiden or anychaste and decent woman, white or red. 

"I know, " I said. "Continue. "

"I offered shelter, " he said simply. "I am a Siwanois. No women need todread Mohicans. She learned this truth from me for the first time, Ithink. Afterward, pitying her, I watched her how she went from camp tocamp. Some gave her mending to do, some washing, enabling her to live. I drew clothing and arms and rations as a Hudson guide enrolled, andtogether she and I made out to live. Then, in the spring, MajorLockwood summoned me to carry intelligence between the lines. And shecame with me, asking at every camp the same strange question; and everthe soldiers laughed and plagued and courted her, offering food andfire and shelter--but not the answer to her question. And one day--theday you came to Poundridge-town--and she had sought for me through thatwild storm--I met her by the house as I came from North Castle withnews of horsemen riding in the rain. "

He leaned forward, looking at me steadily. 

"Loskiel, " he said, "when first I heard your name from her, and that itwas you who wanted Mayaro, suddenly it seemed to me that magic wasbeing made. And--I myself gave her her answer--the answer to thequestion she had asked at every camp. "

"Good God!" said I, "did you, then know the answer all the while? Andnever told her?" But at the same moment I understood how perfectlycharacteristic of an Indian had been his conduct. 

"I knew, " he said tranquilly, "but I did not know why this maidenwished to know. Therefore was I silent. "

"Why did you not ask her?" But before he spake I knew why too. 

"Does a Sagamore ask idle questions of a woman?" he said coldly. "Dothe Siwanois babble?"

"No. And yet--and yet----"

"Birds sing, maidens chatter. A Mohican considers ere his tongue isloosed. "

"Aye--it is your nature, Sagamore. .. . But tell me--what was it in themention of my name that made you think of magic?"

"Loskiel, you came two hundred miles to ask of me the question thatthis maid had asked in every camp. "

"What question?"

"Where lay the trail to Catharines-town, " he said. 

"Did she ask that?" I demanded in astonishment. 

"It was ever the burden of her piping--this rosy-throated pigeon of thewoods. "

"That is most strange, " said I. 

"It is doubtless sorcery that she should ask of me an interview withyou who came two hundred miles to ask of me the very question. "

"But, Mayaro, she did not then know why I had come to seek you. "

"I knew as quickly as I heard your name. "

"How could you know before you saw me and I had once made plain mybusiness?"

"Birds come and go; but eagles see their natal nest once more beforethey die. "

"I do not understand you, Mayaro. "

He made no answer. 

"Merely to hear my name from this child's lips, you say you guessed mybusiness with you?"

"Surely, Loskiel--surely. It was all done by magic. And, at once, Iknew that I should also speak to her, there in the storm, and answerher her question. "

"And did you do so?"

"Yes, Loskiel. I said to her: 'Little sad rosy-throated pigeon of thewoods, the vale Yndaia lies by a hidden river in the West. Some call itCatharines-town. '"

I shook my head, perplexed, and understanding nothing. 

"Yndaia? Did you say Yndaia, Mayaro?"

Then, as he looked me steadily in the eye, my gaze became uneasy, shifted, fell by an accident upon the blood-red bear reared on his hindlegs, pictured upon his breast. And through and through me passed ashock, like the dull thrill of some forgotten thing clutched suddenlyby memory--yet clutched in vain. 

Vain was the struggle, too, for the faint gleam passed from my mind asit had come; and if the name Yndaia had disturbed me, or seeing thescarlet ensign on his breast, or perhaps both coupled, had seemed tostir some distant memory, I did not know. Only it seemed as though, inmental darkness, I had felt the presence of some living and familiarthing--been conscious of its nearness for an instant ere it hadvanished utterly. 

The Sagamore's face had become a smooth, blank mask again. 

"What has this maid, Lois, to do with Catharines-town?" I asked. "Devils live there in darkness. "

"She did not say. "

"You do not know?"

"No, Loskiel. "

"But, " said I, troubled, "why did she journey hither?"

"Because she now believes that only I in all the world could guide herto the vale Yndaia; and that one day I will pity her and take herthere. "

"Doubtless, " I said anxiously, "she has heard at the forts orhereabouts that we are to march on Catharines-town. "

"She knows it now, Loskiel"

"And means to follow?" I exclaimed in horror. 

"My brother speaks the truth. "

"God! What urges the child thither?"

"I do not know, Loskiel. It seems as though a madness were upon herthat she must go to Catharines-town. I tell you there is sorcery in allthis. I say it--I, a Sagamore of the Enchanted Wolf. Who should knowmagic when it stirs but I, of the Siwanois--the Magic Clan? Say whatyou will, my comrade and blood-brother, there is sorcery abroad; andwell I know who wrought it, spinning with spiders' webs there by thelost Lake of Kendaia----" He shuddered slightly. "There by the blackwaters of the lake--that hag--and all her spawn!"

"Catharine Montour!"

"The Toad-woman herself--and all her spawn. "

"The Senecas?"

"And the others, " he said in a low voice. 

A sudden and terrible misgiving assailed me. I swallowed, and then saidslowly:

"Two scalps were taken late last night by Murphy and Elerson. And thescalps were not of the Mohawk. Not Oneida, nor Onondaga, nor Cayuga. Mayaro!" I gasped. "So help me God, those scalps are never Seneca!"

"Erie!" he exclaimed with a mixture of rage and horror. And I saw hissinewy hand quivering on his knife-hilt. "Listen, Loskiel! I knew it!No one has told me. I have sat here all the day alone, making my steelbright and my paint fresher, and singing to myself my people's songs. And ever as I sat at the lodge door, something in the summer windmocked at me and whispered to me of demons. And when I rose and stoodat gaze, troubled, and minding every river-breeze, faintly I seemed toscent the taint of evil. If those two scalps be Erie, then where theCat-People creep their Sorcerer will be found. "

"Amochol, " I repeated under my breath. And shivered. 

For, deep in the secret shadows of that dreadful place where this vilehag, Catharine Montour, ruled it in Catharines-town, dwelt also allthat now remained of the Cat-Nation--Eries--People of the Cat--a dozen, it was rumoured, scarcely more--and demons all, serving that horridwarlock, Amochol, the Sorcerer of the Senecas. 

What dreadful rites this red priest and his Eries practiced there, noneknew, unless it were true that the False Faces knew. But rumourwhispered with a thousand tongues of horrors viewless, nameless, inconceivable; and that far to the westward Biskoonah yawned, so closeindeed to the world's surface that the waters boiling deep in hellburst into burning fountains in the magic garden where the red priestmade his sorcery, alone. 

These things I had heard, but vaguely, here and there--a word perhapsat Johnson Hall, a whisper at Fort Johnson, rumours discussed at GuyPark and Schenectady when I was young. But ever the same horror of itfilled me, though I believed it not, knowing full well there were nowitches, sorcerers, or warlocks in the world; yet, in my soul disturbedconcerning what might pass deep in the shadows of that viewless Empire. 

"Mayaro, " I said seriously, "do you go instantly to the fort and viewthose scalps. "

"Were the braids fastened at the roots with tree-cat claws?"

"Aye!"

"No need to view them, then, Loskiel. "

"Are they truly Erie?"

"Cats!" He spat the word from his lips and his eyes blazed. 

"And--Amochol!" I asked unsteadily. 

"The Cat People creep with the Seneca high priest, mewing under themoon. "

"Then--he is surely here?"

"Aye, Loskiel. "

"God!" said I, now all a-quiver; "only to slay him! Only to end thisdemon-thing, this poison spawn of the Woman-Toad! Only to glimpse hisscarlet rags fairly along my rifle sight!"

"No bullets touch him. "

"That is nonsense, Mayaro----"

"No, Loskiel. "

"I tell you he is human! There are no sorcerers on earth. There neverwere--except the Witch of Endor----"

"I never heard of her. But the Witch of Catharines-town is living. Andher warlock offspring, Amochol!" He squared his broad shoulders, shaking them. "What do I care?" he said. "I am a Sagamore of theEnchanted Clan!" He struck the painted symbol on his chest. "What do Icare for this red priest's sorcery--I, who wear the great Witch Bearrearing in scarlet here across my breast!

"Let the Cat People make their magic! Let Amochol sacrifice to Leshi inBiskoonah! Let their accursed Atensi watch the Mohicans from behind themoon. Mayaro is a Sagamore and his clan are Sachems; and the clan wasold--old--old, O little brother, before their Hiawatha came to them andmade their League for them, and returned again to The Master of Life inhis silver cloud-canoe!

"And I say to you, O my blood-brother, that between this sorcerer andme is now a war such as no Mohican ever waged and no man living, whiteor red, has ever seen. His magic will I fight with magic; his knife andhatchet shall be turned on mine! And I shall deceive and trick and mockhim--him and his Erie Cats, till one by one their scalps shall swingabove a clean Mohican fire. O Loskiel, my brother, and my other self, awarrior and a Sagamore has spoken. Go, now, to your evening tryst inpeace and leave me. For in my ears the Seven Chiefs are whispering--TheThunderers. And Tamanund must hear my speech and read my heart. And thelong roll of our Mohican dead must be recited--here and alone byme--the only one who has that right since Uncas died and the Mohicanpriesthood ended, save for the Sagamores of the Magic Clan. 

"Go, now, my brother. Go in peace. "

CHAPTER VII

LOIS

When I came to the log house by the Spring Waiontha, lantern in handand my packet tucked beneath my arm, it was twilight, and the starlessskies threatened rain. Road and field and forest were foggy and silent;and I thought of the first time I had ever set eyes on Lois, in thelate afternoon stillness which heralded a coming storm. 

I had with me, as I say, a camp lantern which enabled me to make my waythrough the thicket to the Spring Waiontha. Not finding her there, Iretraced my steps and crossed the charred and dreary clearing to thehouse of logs. 

No light burned within; doubtless this widow woman was far too poor toafford a light of any sort. But my lantern still glimmered, and I wentup to the splintered door and rapped. 

Lois opened it, her knitting gathered in her hand, and stood aside forme to enter. 

At first, so dusky was the room that I perceived no other occupantbeside ourselves. Then Lois said: "Mrs. Rannock, Mr. Loskiel, of whom Ispoke at supper, is to be made known to you. "

Then first I saw a slight and ghostly figure rise, take shape in theshadows, and move slowly into my lantern's feeble beams----a frail andpallid woman, who made her reverence as though dazed, and uttered not aword. 

Lois whispered in my ear:

"She scarcely seems to know she is alive, since Cherry Valley. A Toryslew her little sister with a hatchet; then her husband fell; and then, before her eyes, a blue-eyed Indian pinned her baby to its cradle witha bayonet. "

I crossed the room to where she stood, offering my hand; and she laidher thin and work-worn fingers listlessly in mine. 

"Madam, " I said gently, "there are today two thousand widows such asyou betwixt Oriska and Schenectady. And, to our cause, each one of youis worth a regiment of men, your sorrows sacred to us all, strengthening our vows, steeling us to a fierce endeavour. No innocentdeath in this long war has been in vain; no mother's agony. Yet, onlyGod can comfort such as you. "

She shook her head slowly. 

"No God can comfort me, " she said, in a voice so lifeless that itsounded flat as the words that sleepers utter, dreaming of trouble. 

"Shall we be seated outside on the door-sill?" whispered Lois. "Theonly seat within is on the settle, where she sits. "

"Is this the only room?"

"Yes--save for the mouse-loft, where I sleep on last year's corn-husks. Shall we sit outside? We can speak very low. She will not heed us. "

Pity for all this stark and naked wretchedness left me silent; then, asthe lantern's rays fell on this young girl's rags, I remembered mypacket. 

"Yes, we will sit outside. But first, I bring you a little gift----"

She looked up quickly and drew back a step, "Oh, but such a littlegift, Lois--a nothing--a mere jest of mine which we shall enjoy betweenus. Take it as I offer it, lightly, and without constraint. "

Reluctantly she permitted me to lay the packet in her arms, displeasurestill darkening her brow. Then I set my lantern on the puncheon floorand stepped outside, closing the hatchet-battered door behind me. 

How long I paced the foggy strip of clearing I do not know. The misthad thickened to rain when I heard the door creak; and, turning in mytracks, caught the lantern's sparkle on the threshold, and the dullgleam of her Oneida finery. 

I picked up the lantern and held it high above us. 

Smiling and bashful she stood there in her clinging skirt andwampum-broidered vest, her slender, rounded limbs moulded into softknee-moccasins of fawn-skin, and the Virgin's Girdle knotted across herthighs in silver-tasselled seawan. 

And, "Lord!" said I, surprised by the lovely revelation. "What amiracle are you in your forest masquerade!"

"Am I truly fine to please you, Euan?"

I said, disturbed, but striving to speak lightly:

"Little Oneida goddess in your bridal dress, the Seven Dancers arelaughing at me from your eyes; and the Day-Sun and the Night-Sun hangfrom your sacred girdle, making it flash like silvery showers ofseawan. Salute, O Watcher at the Gates of Dawn! Onwa oyah! Na-i! A-i!Lois!" And I drew my light war-hatchet from its sheath and raised itsparkling, in salute. 

She laughed a little, blushed a little, and bent her dainty head toview her finery once more, examining it gravely to the last red quillsewed to the beaded toe-point. 

Then, still serious, she lifted her grey eyes to me:

"I seem to find no words to thank you, Euan. But my heartis--very--full----" She hesitated, then stretched forth her hand to me, smiling; and as I touched it ceremoniously with finger-tip and lip:

"Ai-me!" she exclaimed, withdrawing under shelter. "It is raining, Euan! Your rifle-shirt is wet already, and you are like to take achill! Come under shelter instantly!"

"Fancy a man of Morgan's with a chill!" I said, but nevertheless obeyedher, set the lantern on the puncheon floor, brushed the fine drops fromthrums and hatchet-sheath, rubbed the bright-edged little axe withbuck-skinned elbow, and wiped my heavy knife from hilt to blade. 

As I looked up, busy with my side-arms, I caught her eye. We smiled ateach other; then, as though a common instinct stirred us to caution, weturned and looked silently toward the settle in the corner, where thewidow sat brooding alone. 

"May we speak freely here, Lois?" I whispered. 

She cast a cautious glance at the shadowy figure, then, lowering hervoice and leaning nearer:

"I scarcely know whether she truly heeds and hears. She maynot--yet--she may. And I do not care to share my confidences withanyone--save you. I promised to tell you something about myself. .. . Imean to, some day. "

"Then you will not tell me now?"

"How can I, Euan?"

We stood silent, thinking. Presently my eyes fell on the rough ladderleading to the loft above. She followed my gaze, hesitated, shot a keenand almost hostile glance at me, softened and coloured, then stoleacross the room to the ladder's foot. 

I lifted the lantern, followed her, and mounted, lighting the way forher along low-hanging eaves among the rustling husks. She dropped thetrap-door silently, above the ladder, took the lantern from my hand, set it on the floor, and seated herself beside it on the husks, hercheeks still brightly flushed. 

"Is this then your intimate abode?" I asked, half-smiling. 

"Could I desire a snugger one?" she answered gaily. "Here is bothwarmth and shelter; and a clean bed of husks; and if I am lonely, therebe friendly little mice to bear me company o' nights. And here my miceand I lie close and listen to the owls. "

"And you were reared in comfort!" I said with sudden bitterness. 

She looked up quickly, then, shrugging her shoulders:

"There is still some comfort for those who can remember their brief dayof ease--none for those who never knew it. I have had days of comfort. "

"What age are you, Lois?"

"Twenty, I think. "

"Scarce that!" I insisted. 

"Do I not seem so?" she asked, smiling. 

"Eighteen at most--save for the--sadness--in your eyes that now andthen surprises me--if it be sadness that I read there. "

"Perhaps it is the wisdom I have learned--a knowledge that meanssadness, Euan. Do my eyes betray it, then, so plainly?"

"Sometimes, " I said, A faint sound from below arrested our attention. 

Lois whispered:

"It is Mrs. Rannock weeping. She often weeps like that at night. And sowould I, Euan, had I beheld the horrors which this poor thing was bornto look upon--God comfort her! Have you never heard how thedestructives slew her husband, her baby, and her little sister eightyears old? The baby lay in its cradle smiling up at its murderers. Eventhe cruel Senecas turned aside, forbearing to harm it. But one ofWalter Butler's painted Tories spies it and bawls out: 'This also willgrow to be a rebel!' And with that he speared the little smilingcreature on his bayonet, tossed it, and caught it--Oh, Euan--Euan!"Shuddering, she flung her arm across her face as though to shut out thevision. 

"That villainy, " said I, "was done by Newberry or Chrysler, if Iremember. And Newberry we caught and hung before we went toWestchester. I saw him hang with that wretched Lieutenant Hare. God!how we cheered by regiments marching back to camp!"

Through the intense stillness I could still hear the woman sobbing inthe dark below. 

"Lois--little Lois, " I whispered, touching her trembling arm with ahand quite as unsteady. 

She dropped her arm from her face, looking up at me with eyes widenedstill in horror. 

I said: "Do you then wonder that the thought of you, roaming thesewoods alone, is become a living dread to me, so that I think of nothingelse?"

She smiled wanly, and sat thinking for a while, her pale face pressedbetween her hands. Presently she looked up. 

"Are we so truly friends then, Euan? At the Spring Waiontha it almostseemed as though it could come true. "

"You know it has come true. "

"Do I?"

"Do you not know it, little Lois?"

"I seem to know it, somehow. .. . Tell me, Euan, does a true anddeathless friendship with a man--with you--mean that I am to strip myheart of every secret, hiding nothing from you?"

"Dare you do it, Lois?" I said laughingly, yet thrilled with thecandour of her words. 

"I could not let you think me better than I am. That would be stealingfriendship from you. But if you give it when you really know me--thatwill be dear and wonderful----" She drew a swift breath and smiled. 

Surprised, then touched, I met the winning honesty of her gaze insilence. 

"Unless you truly know me--unless you know to whom you give yourfriendship--you can not give it rightly. Can you, Euan? You must learnall that I am and have been, Is not this necessary?"

"I--I ask you nothing, " I stammered. "All that I know of you iswonderful enough----" Suddenly the danger of the moment opened outbefore me, checking my very thoughts. 

She laid both hands against her temple, pressing them there till hercheeks cooled. So she pondered for a while, her gaze remote. Then, looking fearlessly at me:

"Euan, I am of that sad company of children born without name. I havelately dared to guess who was my father. Presently I will tell you whohe was. " Her grey and troubled eyes gazed into space now, dreamily. "Hedied long since. But my mother is living. And I believe she lives nearCatharines-town to-day!"

"What! Why do you think so?" I exclaimed, astounded. 

"Is not the Vale Yndaia there, near Catharines-town?"

"Yes. But why----"

"Then listen, Euan. Every year upon a certain day--the twelfth ofMay--no matter where I chance to be, always outside my door I find twolittle beaded moccasins. I have had them thirteen times in thirteenyears. And every year--save the last two--the moccasins have been madea little larger, as though to fit my growing years. Now, for the lasttwo years, they have remained the same in size, fitting me perfectly. And--I never yet have worn them more than to fit them on and take themoff. "

"Why?" I asked vaguely. 

"I save them for my journey. "

"What journey?"

"The long trail through the Long House--straight through it, Euan, tothe Western Door. That is the trail I dream of. "

"Who leaves these strange moccasins at your threshold every year?"

"I do not know. "

"From where do you suppose they come?" I asked, amazed. 

"From Catharines-town. "

"Do you believe your mother sends them?"

"Oh, Euan, I know it now! Until two years ago I did not understand. Butnow I know it!"

"Why are you so certain Lois? Is any written message sent with them?"

"Always within one of each pair of moccasins is sewed a strip of silverbirch. Always the message written is the same; and this is what isalways written:

"Swift moccasins for little feet as swift against the day that the longtrail is safe. Then, in the Vale Yndaia, little Lois, seek her who boreyou, saved you, lost you, but who love you always. 

"Pray every day for him who died in the Regiment de la Reine. 

"Pray too for her who waits for you, in far Yndaia. "

"What a strange message!" I exclaimed. 

"I must heed it, " she said under her breath. "The trail is open, and myhour is come. "

"But, Lois, that trail means death!"

"Your army makes it safe at last. And now the time is come when I mustfollow it. "

"Is that why you have followed us?"

"Yes, that is why. Until that night in the storm at Poundridge-town Ihad never learned where the Vale Yndaia lay. Month after month Ihaunted camps, asking for information concerning Yndaia and theRegiment de la Reine. But of Yndaia I learned nothing, until theSagamore informed me that Yndaia lay near Catharines-town. And, learning you were of the army, and that the army was bound thither, Ifollowed you. "

"Why did you not tell me this at Poundridge? You should have campedwith us, " I said. 

"Because of my fear of men--except red men. And I had already quiteenough of your Lieutenant Boyd. "

I looked at her seriously; and she comprehended the unasked questionsthat were troubling me. 

"Shall I tell you more? Shall I tell you how I have learned my dread ofmen--how it has been with me since my foster parents found me lying attheir door strapped to a painted cradle-board?"

"You!"

"Aye; that was my shameful beginning, so they told me afterward--longafterward. For I supposed they were my parents--till two years ago. Nowshall I tell you all, Euan? And risk losing a friendship you might havegiven in your ignorance of me?"

Quick, hot, unconsidered words flew to my lips--so sweet and fearlesswere her eyes. But I only muttered:

"Tell me all. "

"From the beginning, then--to scour my heart out for you! So, first andearliest my consciousness awoke to the sound of drums. I am sure ofthis because when I hear them it seems as though they were the firstsounds that I ever heard. .. . And once, lately, they were like to be thelast. .. . And next I can remember playing with a painted mask of wood, and how the paint tasted, and its odour. .. . Then, nothing more can Iremember until I was a little child with--him I thought to be myfather. I may not name him. You will understand presently why I do not. "

She looked down, pulling idly at the thrums along her beaded leggins. 

"I told you I was near your age--twenty. But I do not really know howold I am, I guess that I am twenty--thereabouts. "

"You look sixteen; not more--except the haunting sorrow----"

"I can remember full that length of time. .. . I must be twenty, Euan. When I was perhaps seven years old--or thereabout--I went toschool--first in Schenectady to a Mistress Lydon; where were a dozenchildren near my age. And pretty Mistress Lydon taught us A--B--C andmanners--and nothing else that I remember now. Then for a long while Iwas at home--which meant a hundred different lodgings--for we were evermoving on from place to place, where his employment led him, from onehouse to another, staying at one tavern only while his task remainedunfinished, then to the road again, north, south, west, or east, wherever his fancy sped before to beckon him. .. . He was a strange man, Euan. "

"Your foster father?"

"Aye. And my foster mother, too, was a strange woman. "

"Were they not kind to you?"

"Y-es, after their own fashion. They both were vastly different toother folk. I was fed and clothed when anyone remembered to do it, Andwhen they had been fortunate, they sent me to the nearest school to berid of me, I think. I have attended many schools, Euan--in Germantown, in Philadelphia, in Boston, in New York. I stayed not long in school atNew York because there our affairs went badly. And no one invited us inthat city--as often we were asked to stay as guests while the worklasted--not very welcome guests, yet tolerated. "

"What was your foster father's business?"

"He painted portraits. .. . I do not know how well he painted. But hecared for nothing else, except his wife. When he spoke at all it was toher of Raphael, and of Titian, and particularly of our Benjamin West, who had his first three colours of the Indians, they say. "

"I have heard so, too. "

She nodded absently, fingering her leggin-fringe; then, with a sudden, indrawn breath:

"We were no more than roving gypsies, you see, living from hand tomouth, and moving on, always moving from town to town, remaining in oneplace while there were portraits to paint--or tavern-signs, orwagons--anything to keep us clothed and fed. Then there came a day inAlbany when matters mended over night, and the Patroon most kindlycommanded portraits of himself and family. It started our briefprosperity. 

"Other and thrifty Dutchmen now began to bargain for their portraits. We took an old house on Pearl Street, and I was sent to school at Mrs. Pardee's Academy for young ladies as a day pupil, returning home atevening. About that time my foster mother became ill. I remember thatshe lay on a couch all day, watching her husband paint. He and his artwere all she cared for. Me she seldom seemed to see--scarcely noticedwhen she saw me--almost never spake to me, and there were days andweeks, when I saw nobody in that silent house, and sat at meatalone--when, indeed, anyone remembered I was a hungry, growing child, and made provision for me. 

"Schoolmates, at first, asked me to their homes. I would not go becauseI could not ask them to my home in turn. And so grew up to womanhoodalone, and shy, and silent among my fellows; alone at home among theshadows of that old Dutch house; ever alone. Always a haunted twilightseemed to veil the living world from me, save when I walked abroadalong the river, thinking, thinking. 

"Yet, in one sense I was not alone, Euan, for I was fanciful; androamed accompanied by those bright visions that unawakened soulsconjure for company; companioned by all creatures of the mind, fromsaint to devil. Ai-me! For there were moments when I would havewelcomed devils, so that they rid me of my solitude, at hell's ownprice!"

She drew a long, light breath, smiled at me; then:

"My foster mother died. And when she died the end also began for him. Iwas taken from my school. So dreadfully was he broken that for monthshe lay abed never speaking, scarcely eating. And all day long duringthose dreary months I sat alone in that hushed house of death. 

"Debt came first; then sheriffs; then suddenly came this war upon us. But nothing aroused him from his lethargy; and all day long he broodedthere in silence, day after day, until our creditors would endure nolonger, and the bailiff menaced him. Confused and frightened, Iimplored him to leave the city--jails seeming to me far more terriblethan death--and at last persuaded him to the old life once more. 

"So, to avoid a debtor's prison, we took the open road again. But warwas ravishing the land; there was no work for him to do. We starvedslowly southward, day by day, shivered and starved from town to townacross the counter. 

"Near to a camp of Continental troops there was a farm house. They tookme there as maid-at-all-work, out of charity, I think. My fatherwandered over to the camp, and there, God alone knows why, enlisted--Ishall not tell you in what regiment. But it was Continental Line--agaunt, fierce, powder-blackened company, disciplined with iron. Andpresently a dreadful thing befell us. For one morning before sunrise, as I stood scouring the milk-pans by the flare of a tallow-dip, came tome a yawning sergeant of this same regiment to tell me that, as myfoster father was to be shot at sunrise, therefore, he desired to seeme. And I remember how he yawned and yawned, this lank and bonysergeant, showing within his mouth his yellow fangs!

"Oh, Euan! When I arrived, my foster father--who I then supposed was myown father--lay in a tent a condemned deserter, seeming not even tocare, or to comprehend his dreadful plight. All the defence he evermade, they say was that he had tired of dirty camps and foolish drums, and wished to paint again. Euan, it was terrible. He did notunderstand. He was a visionary--a man of endless silences, dreamy ofeye, gentle and vague of mind--no soldier, nor fitted to understand amilitary life at all. 

"I remember the smoky lantern burning red within the tent, and the vastshadows it cast; and how he stood there, looking tranquilly at nothingwhile I, frightened, sobbed on his breast. 'Lois, ' he said, smiling, 'there is a bright company aloft, and watching me. Raphael and Titianare of them. And West will come some day. ' And, 'God!' he murmured, wonderingly, 'What fellowship will be there! What knowledge to beacquired a half hour hence--and leave this petty sphere to its ownvexed and petty wrangling, its kings and congresses, and its foolishnoise of drums. '

"For a while he paid me no attention, save in an absent-minded way topat my arm and say, 'There, there, child! There's nothing to it--no, not anything to weep for. In less than half an hour my wife and I willbe together, listening while Raphael speaks--or Christ, perhaps, orLeonardo. '

"Twice the brigade chaplain came to the tent, but seeing me retired. The third time he appeared my foster father said: 'He's come to talk tome of Christ and Raphael. It is pleasant to hear his kind assurancethat the journey to them is a swift one, done in the twinkling of aneye. .. . So--I will say good-bye. Now go, my child. '

"Locked in my desperate embrace, his wandering gaze came back and metmy terror-stricken eyes. And after another moment a slow colour cameinto his wasted face. 'Lois, ' he said, 'before I go to join thatmatchless company, I think you ought to know that which will cause youto grieve less for me. .. . And so I tell you that I am not yourfather. .. . We found you at our door in Caughnwagha, strapped to aSeneca cradle-board. Nor had you any name. We did not seek you, but, having you so, bowed to God's will and suffered you to remain with us. We strove to do our duty by you----' His vague gaze wandered toward thetent door where the armed guard stood, terrible and grim and ragged. Then he unloosened my suddenly limp arms about him, muttering tohimself of something he'd forgotten; and, rummaging in his pocketsfound it presently--a packet laced in deerskin. 'This, ' he said, 'isall we ever knew of you. It should be yours. Good-bye. '

"I strove to speak, but he no longer heard me, and asked the guardimpatiently why the Chaplain tarried. And so I crept forth into thedark of dawn, more dead than living. And presently the rising sunblinded my tear-drowned eyes, where I was kneeling in a field under atall tree. .. . I heard the dead-march rolling from the drums, and sawthem passing, black against the sunrise. .. . Then, filing slowly as theseconds dragged, a thousand years passed in processional during thenext half hour--ending in a far rattle of musketry and a light smokeblowing east across the fields----"

She passed her fingers across her brow, clearing it of the clingingcurls. 

"They played a noisy march--afterward. I saw the ragged ranks wheel andmanoeuvre, stepping out Briskly to the jolly drums and fifes. .. . Istood by the grave while the detail filled it cheerily. .. . Then I wentback to the farm house, through the morning dew and sunshine. 

"When I had opened my packet and had understood its contents, I made ofmy clothes a bundle and took the highway to ask of all the world wherelay the road to the vale Yndaia, and where might be found the Regimentde la Reine. Wherever was a camp of soldiers, there I loitered, askingthe same question, day after day, month after month. I asked ofIndians--our Hudson guides, and the brigaded White Plains Indians. Noneseemed to know--or if they did they made no answer. And the soldiersdid not know, and only laughed, taking me for some camp wanton----"

Again she passed her slender hand slowly across her eyes, shaking herhead. 

"That I am not wholly bad amazes me at times. .. . I wonder if you knowhow hunger tampers with the will? I mean more than mere hunger; I meanthat dreadful craving never completely satisfied--so that the ceaselessfamine gnaws and gnaws while the sick mind still sickens, brooding overwhat the body seems to need of meat and drink and warmth--day afterday, night after night, endless and terrible. " She flushed, butcontinued calmly: "I had nigh sold myself to some young officer--somegay and heedless boy--a dozen times that winter--for a bit ofbread--and so I might lie warm. .. . The army starved at Valley Forge. .. . God knows where and how I lived and famished through all that bitterblackness. .. . An artillery horse had trodden on my hip where I layhuddled in a cow-barn under the straw close to the horses, for the sakeof warmth. I hobbled for a month. .. . And so ill was I become in mind aswell as body that had any man been kind--God knows what had happened!And once I even crept abroad meaning to take what offered. Do you deemme vile, Euan?"

"No--no--" I could not utter another word. 

She sighed, gazing at space. 

"And the cold! Well--this is July, and I must try to put it from mymind. But at times it seems to be still in my bones--deep bitten to thevery marrow. Ai-me! I have seen two years of centuries. Their scarsremain. "

She rocked slightly forward and backward where she sat, her fingersinterlaced, twisting and clenching with her memories. 

"Ai-me! Hunger and cold and men! Hunger and--men. But it was solitudethat nigh undid me. That was the worst of all--the endless silence. "

The rain now swept the roof of bark above us, gust after gust swishingacross the eaves. Beyond the outer circle of the lantern light a mousemoved, venturing no nearer. 

"Lois?"

She lifted her head. "All that is ended now. Strive to forget. "

She made no response. 

"Ended, " I said firmly. "And this is how it ends. I have with mysolicitor, Mr. Simon Hake, of Albany, two thousand pounds hardsterling. How I first came by it I do not know. But Guy Johnson placedit there for me, saying that it was mine by right. Now, today, I havewritten to Mr. Hake a letter. In this letter I have commanded some fewtrifles to be bought for you, such as all women naturally require. "

"Euan!" she exclaimed sharply. 

"I will not listen!" said I excitedly. "Do you listen now to me, for Imean to have my way with you--say what you may----"

"I know--I know--but you have done too much already----"

"I have done nothing! Listen! I have bespoken trifles of novalue--nothing more--stockings, and shifts, and stays, andpowder-puffs, and other articles----"

"I will not suffer this!" she said, an angry colour in her cheeks. 

"You suffer now--for lack even of handkerchiefs! I must insist----"

"Euan! My shifts and stays and stockings are none of your affair!" sheanswered hotly. 

"I make them mine!"

"No--nor is it your privilege to offer them!"

"My--what?"

"Privilege!" she said haughtily, flushing clear to her curly hair; andleft me checked. She added: "What you offer is impertinence--howeverkindly meant. No friendship warrants it, and I refuse. "

I know not what it was--perhaps my hurt and burning silence under thesudden lash of her rebuff--but presently I felt her hand steal overmine and tighten. And looked up, scowling, to see her eyes brimmingwith tears and merriment. 

"How much of me must you have, Euan? Even my privacy and pride? Youhave given me friendship; you have clothed me to your fancy. You havehad scant payment in exchange--only a poor girl's gratitude. What haveI left to offer in return if you bestow more gifts? Give me no more--sothat you take from me no more than--gratitude. "

"Comrades neither give nor take, Lois. What they possess belongs toboth in common. "

"I know--it is so said--but--you have had of me for all your bountyonly my thanks--and----" she smiled tremulously, "----a wild rose-bud. And you have given so much--so much--and I am far too poor torender----"

"What have I asked of you!" I said impatiently. 

"Nothing. And so I am the more inclined to give--I know not what. "

"Shall I tell you what to offer me? Then offer me the privilege ofgiving. It is the rarest gift within your power. "

She sat looking at me while the soft colour waned and deepened in hercheeks. 

"I--give, " she said in a voice scarce audible. 

"Then, " said I, very happily, "I am free to tell you that I havecommanded for your comfort a host of pretty things, and a big box ofwood and brass, with a stout hide outside, to keep your clothing in!The lady of Captain Cresson, of the levies, has a noble one. Yours isits mate. And into yours will fit your gowns and shoon, patches andpowder, and the hundred articles which every woman needs by day andnight. Also I've named you to Mr. Hake, so that, first writing for meupon a slip of paper that I may send it to him--then writing yourrequest to him, you may make draughts for what you need upon our money, which now lies with him. Do you understand me, Lois? You will needmoney when the army leaves. "

Her head moved slightly, acquiescent. 

"So far so good, then. Now, when this army moves into the wilderness, and when I go, and you remain, you will have clothing that befits you;you will have means to properly maintain you; and I shall send you bybatteau to Mr. Hake, who will find lodging suitable for you--and beyour friend, and recommend you to his friends not only for my sake, but, when he sets his eyes on you, for your own sake. " I smiled, andadded:

"Hiero! Little rosy-throated pigeon of the woods! Loskiel has spoken!"

Now, as I ended, this same and silly wild-thing fell silently a-crying;and never had I dreamed that any maid could be so full o' tears, whenby all rights she should have sat dimpling there, happy and gay, andeager as I. 

Out o' countenance again, and vexed in my mind, I sat silent, fidgetting, made strange and cold and awkward by her tears. The warmflush of self-approval chilled in my heart; and by and by a vagueresentment grew there. 

"Euan?" she ventured, lifting her wet eyes. 

"What?" said I ungraciously. 

"H--have you a hanker? Else I use my scandalous skirt again----"

And the next instant we both were laughing there, she still in tears, Iwith blithe heart to see her now surrender at discretion, with her greyeyes smiling at me through a starry mist of tears, and the sweet mouthtremulous with her low-voiced thanks. 

"Ai-me!" she said. "What manner of boy is this, to hector me and havehis will? And now he sits there laughing, and convinced that when thearmy marches I shall wear his finery and do his bidding. And so Ishall--if I remain behind. "

"Lois! You can not go to Catharines-town! That's flat!"

"I've wandered hungry and ragged for two years, asking the way. Do yousuppose I have endured in vain? Do you suppose I shall give up now?"

"Lois!" I said seriously, "if it is true that the Senecas hold anywhite captives, their liberation is at hand. But that business concernsthe army. And I promise you that if your mother be truly there amongthose unhappy prisoners she shall be brought back safely from the ValeYndaia. I will tell Major Parr of this; he shall inform the General. Have no fear or doubt, dear maid. If she is there, and human power cansave her, then is she saved already, by God's grace. "

She said in a quiet voice:

"I must go with you. And that is why--or partly why--I asked you heretonight. Find me some way to go to Catharines-town. For I must go!"

"Why not inquire of me the road to hell?" I asked impatiently. She saidbetween her teeth:

"Oh, any man might show me that. And guide me, too. Many have offered, Euan. "

"What!"

"I ask your pardon. Two years of camps blunts any woman's speech. "

"Lois, " said I uneasily, "why do you wish to go to Catharines-town, when an armed force is going?"

She sat considering, then, in a low, firm voice:

"To tell you why, is why I asked you here. .. . And first I must show youwhat my packet held. .. . Shall I show you, Euan?"

"Surely, little comrade. "

She drew the packet from her bosom, unlaced the thong, unrolled thedeer-hide covering. 

"Here is a roll of bark, " she said. "This I have never had interpreted. Can you read it for me, Euan?"

And there in the lantern light I read it, while she looked down over myshoulder. 

 "KADON!

 "Aesa-yat-yen-enghdon, Lois! "Etho! [And here was painted a white dog lying dead, its tongue hanging out sideways. ] "Hen-skerigh-watonte. "Jatthon-ten-yonk, Lois! "Jin-isaya-dawen-ken-wed-e-wayen. [Here was drawn in outline the foot and claws of a forest lynx. ] "Niyi-eskah-haghs, na-yegh-nyasa-kenra-dake, niya-wennonh!" [Then a white symbol. ]

For a long time I gazed at the writing in shocked silence. Then I askedher if she suspected what was written there in the Canienga dialect. 

"I never have had it read. Indians refuse, shake their heads, and lookaskance at me, and tell me nothing; interpreters laugh at me, sayingthere is no meaning in the lines. Is there, Euan?"

"Yes, " I said. 

"You can interpret?"

"Yes. "

"Will you?"

I was silent, pondering the fearful meaning which had been renderedplainer and more hideous by the painted symbols. 

"It has to do with the magic of the Seneca priesthood, " I muttered. "Here is a foul screed--and yet a message, too, to you. "

Then, with an effort I found courage to read, as it was written:

"I speak! Thou, Lois, mightest have been destroyed! Thus! (Here thewhite dog. ) But I will frustrate their purpose. Keep listening to me, Lois. That which has befallen you we place it here (or, 'we draw ithere'--i. E. , the severed foot and claws of a lynx). Being born white(literally, 'being born having a white neck'), this happened. " And theghastly sign of Leshi ended it. 

"But what does it all signify?" she asked, bewildered. 

And even as she spoke, out of the dull and menacing horror of thesymbols, into my mind, leaped terrible comprehension. 

I said coolly: "It must have been Amochol--and his Erie sorcerers! Howcame you in Catharines-town?"

"I? In Catharines-town!" she faltered. "Was I, then, ever there?"

I pointed at the drawing of the dead white dog. 

"Somebody saved you from that hellish sacrifice. I tell you it is plainenough to read. The rite is practiced only by the red sorcerers of theSenecas. .. . Look! It was because your 'neck' was 'white'! Look again!Here is the symbol of the Cat-People--the Eries--the acolytes ofAmochol--here! This spread lynx-pad with every separate claw extended!Yet, it is drawn severed--in symbol of your escape. Lois! Lois! It isplain enough. I follow it all--almost all--nearly--but not quite----"

I hesitated, studying the bark intently, pausing to look at her with anew and keenly searching question in my gaze. 

"You have not shown me all, " I said. 

"All that is written in the Iroquois tongue. But there were otherthings in the packet with this bark letter. " She opened it again uponher lap. 

"Here is a soldier's belt-buckle, " she said, offering it to me for myinspection. 

It was made of silver and there were still traces of French gilt uponthe device. 

"Regiment de la Reine, " I read. "What regiment is that, Lois? I'm sureI've heard of it somewhere. Oh! Now I remember. It was a verycelebrated French regiment--cut all to pieces at Lake George by SirWilliam Johnson in '55. This is an officer's belt-buckle. "

"Was the regiment, then, totally destroyed?"

"Utterly. In France they made the regiment again with new men and newofficers, and call it still by the same celebrated name. "

"You say Sir William Johnson's men cut it to pieces--the Regiment de laReine?" she asked. 

"His Indians, British and Provincials, left nothing of it after thatbloody day. "

She sat thoughtful for a while, then, bestirring herself, drew from thedeerhide packet a miniature on ivory, cracked across, and held togetheronly by the narrow oval frame of gold. 

There was no need to look twice. This man, whoever he might be, wasthis girl's father; and nobody who had ever seen her and this miniaturecould ever doubt it. 

She did not speak, nor did I, conscious that her eyes had never left myface and must have read my startled mind with perfect ease. 

Presently I turned the portrait over. There was a lock of hair thereunder the glass--bright, curly hair exactly like her own. And at firstI saw nothing else. Then, as the glass-backed locket glanced in thelantern-light, I saw that on the glass something had been inscribedwith a diamond. This is what I read, written across the glass:

"Jean Coeur a son coeur cheri. "

I looked up at her. 

"Jean Coeur, " I repeated. "That is no name for a man----" Suddenly Iremembered, years ago--years and years since--hearing Guy Johnsoncursing some such man. Then in an instant all came back to me; and sheseemed to divine it, for her small hand clutched my arm and her eyeswere widening as I turned to meet them. 

"Lois, " I said unsteadily, "there was a man called Jean Coeur, deputyto the adventurer, Joncaire. Joncaire was the great captain who all butsaved this Western Continent to France. Captain Joncaire was feared, detested, but respected by Sir William Johnson because he held allCanada and the Hurons and Algonquins in the hollow of his hand, and hadeven gained part of the Long House--the Senecas. His clever deputy wascalled Jean Coeur. Never did two men know the Indians as these two did. "

I thought a moment, then: "Somewhere I heard that Captain Joncaire hada daughter. But she married another man--one Louis de Contrecoeur----"I hesitated, glanced again at the name scratched on the glass over thelock of hair, and shook my head. 

"Jean Coeur--Louis de Contrecoeur. The names scarce hangtogether--yet----"

"Look at this!" she whispered in a low, tense voice, and laid a bit ofprinting in my hand. 

It was a stained and engraved sheet of paper--a fly-leaf detached froma book of Voltaire. And above the scroll-encompassed title was writtenin faded ink: "Le Capitaine Vicomte Louis Jean de Contrecoeur duRegiment de la Reine. " And under that, in a woman's fine handwriting:"Mon coeur, malgre; mon coeur, se rendre a Contrecoeur, dit Jean Coeur;coeur contre coeur. "

"That, " she said, "is the same writing that the birch bark bears, sewedin my moccasins. "

"Then, " I said excitedly, "your mother was born Mademoiselle Joncaire, and you are Lois de Contrecoeur!"

She sat with eyes lowered, fingering the stained and faded page. Aftera moment she said:

"I wrote to France--to the Headquarters of the Regiment de laReine--asking about my--father. "

"You had an answer?"

"Aye, the answer came. .. . Merely a word or two. .. . The Vicomte LouisJean de Contrecoeur fell at Lake George in '55----" She lifted herclear eyes to mine. "And died--unmarried. "

A chill passed through me, then the reaction came, taking me by thethroat, setting my veins afire. 

"Then--by God!" I stammered. "If de Contrecoeur died unmarried, hischild shall not!"

"Euan! I do not credit what they wrote. If my father married hereperhaps they had not heard. "

"Lois! Dearest of maids--whichever is the truth I wish to marry you!"

But she stopped her ears with both palms, giving me a frightened look;and checked, but burning still, I stared at her. 

"Is that then all you are?" she asked. "A wisp of tow to catch thefirst spark that flies? A brand ever smouldering, which the firstbreath o' woman stirs to flame?"

"Never have I loved before----"

"Love! Euan, are you mad?"

We both were breathing fast and brokenly. 

"What is it then, if it be not love!" I asked angrily. 

"What is it?" she repeated slowly. Yet I seemed to feel in her veryvoice a faint, cool current of contempt. "Why, it is what always urgesmen to speak, I fancy--their natural fire--their easily provokedemotions. .. . I had believed you different. "

"Did you not desire my friendship?" I asked in hot chagrin. 

"Not if it be of this kind, Euan. "

"You would not have me love you?"

"Love!" And the fine edge of her contempt cut clean. "Love!" sherepeated coolly. "And we scarcely know each other; have never passed aday together; have never broken bread; know nothing, nothing of eachother's minds and finer qualities; have awakened nothing in each otheryet except emotions. Friendships have their deeps and shallows, but aredeathless only while they endure. Love hath no shallows, Euan, andendures often when friendship dies. .. . I speak, having no knowledge. But I believe it. And, believing nobly of true love--in ignorance ofit, but still in awe--and having been assailed by clamours of ashameful passion calling itself love--and having builded in my heartand mind a very lofty altar for the truth, how can I feel otherwisethan sorry that you spoke--hotly, unthinkingly, as you did to me?"

I was silent. 

She rose, lifted the lantern, laid open the trap-door. 

"Come, " she whispered, beckoning. 

I followed her as she descended, took the lantern from her hand, glanced at the shadowy heap, asleep perhaps, on the corner settle, thenwalked to the door and opened it. A thousand, thousand stars weresparkling overhead. 

On the sill she whispered:

"When will you come again?"

"Do you want me?" I said sullenly. 

She made no answer for a moment; suddenly she caught my hand andpressed it, crushing it between both of hers; and turning I saw heralmost helpless with her laughter. 

"Oh, what an infant have I found in this tall gentleman of Morgan'scorps!" said she. "A boy one moment and a man the next--silly and wisein the same breath--headlong, headstrong, tender, and generous, pettyand childish, grave and kind--the sacred and wondrous being, in pointof fact, known to the world as man! And now he asks, with solemn mienand sadly ruffled and reproachful dignity whether a poor, friendless, homeless, nameless girl desires his company again!"

She dropped my hand, caught at her skirt's edge, and made me a mockingreverence. 

"Dear sir, " she said, "I pray you come again to visit me tomorrow, while I am mending regimental shirts at tuppence each----"

"Lois!" I said sadly. "How can you use me so!"

She began to laugh again. 

"Oh, Euan, I can not endure it if you're solemn and sorry foryourself----"

"That is too much!" I exclaimed, furious, and marched out, boiling, under the high stars. And every star o' them, I think, was laughing atthe sorriest ass who ever fell in love. 

Nevertheless, that night I wrote her name in my letter to Mr. Hake; andthe ink on it was scarce sanded when an Oneida runner had it and wasdriving his canoe down the Mohawk River at a speed that promised to winfor him the bonus in hard money which I had promised for a swiftjourney and a swift return. 

And far into the July morning I talked with the Sagamore of Amochol andof Catharines-town; and he listened while he sat tirelessly polishinghis scalping-knife and hatchet. 

CHAPTER VIII

OLD FRIENDS

The sunrise gun awoke me. I rolled out of my blanket, saw the whitecannon-smoke floating above the trees, ran down to the river, andplunged in. 

When I returned, the Sagamore had already broken his fast, and oncemore was engaged in painting himself--this time in a most ghastlycombination of black and white, the startling parti-coloureddecorations splitting his visage into two equal sections, so that hiseyes gleamed from a black and sticky mask, and his mouth and chin andjaw were like the features of a weather-bleached skull. 

"More war, O Mayaro, my brother?" I asked in a bantering voice. "Everyday you prepare for battle with a confidence forever new; every nightthe army snores in peace. Yet, at dawn, when you have greeted the sun, you renew your war-paint. Such praiseworthy perseverance ought to berewarded. "

"It has already been rewarded, " remarked the Indian, with quiet humour. 

"In what manner?" I asked, puzzled. 

"In the manner that all warriors desire to be rewarded, " he replied, secretly amused. 

"I thought, " said I, "that the reward all warriors desire is a scalptaken in battle. "

He cast a sly glance at me and went on painting. 

"Mayaro, " said I, disturbed, "is it possible that you have been outforest-running while I've slept?"

He shot a quick look at me, full of delighted malice. 

And "Ho!" said he. "My brother sleeps sounder than a winter bear. ThreeErie scalps hang stretched, hooped, and curing in the morning sun, behind the bush-hut. Little brother, has the Sagamore done well?"

Straightway I whirled on my heel and walked out and around the hut. Strung like drying fish on a willow wand three scalps hung in thesunshine, the soft July breeze stirring the dead hair. And as soon as Isaw them I knew they were indeed Erie scalps. 

Repressing my resentment and disgust, I lingered a moment to examinethem, then returned to the hut, where the Siwanois, grave as acatamount at his toilet, squatted in a patch of sunshine, polishing hisfeatures. 

"So you've done this business every night as soon as I slept, " said I. "You've crept beyond our outer pickets, risking your life, imperillingthe success of this army, merely to satisfy your vanity. This is notwell, Mayaro. "

He said proudly: "Mayaro is safe. What warrior of the Cat-People need aSagamore of the Siwanois dread?"

"Do you count them warriors then, or wizards?"

"Demons have teeth and claws. Look upon their scalp-locks, Loskiel!"

I strove to subdue my rising anger. 

"You are the only reliable guide in the army today who can take usstraight to Catharines-town, " I said. "If we lose you we must trust toHanierri and his praying Oneidas, who do not know the way even toWyalusing as well as you do. Is this just to the army? Is it just tome, O Sagamore? My formal orders are that you shall rest and run norisk until this army starts from Lake Otsego. My brother Mayaro knewthis. I trusted him and set no sentry at the hut door. Is this well, brother?"

The Sagamore looked at me with eyes utterly void of expression. 

"Is Mayaro a prisoner, then?" he asked quietly. 

Instantly I knew that he was not to be dealt with that way. Theslightest suspicion of any personal restraint or of any militarypressure brought to bear on him might alienate him from our cause, ifnot, perhaps, from me personally. 

I said: "The Siwanois are free people. No lodge door is locked on them, not even in the Long House. They are at liberty to come and go as theeight winds rise and wane--to sleep when they choose, to wake when itpleases them, to go forth by day or night, to follow the war-trail, tostrike their enemies where they find them. 

"But now, to one of them--to the Mohican Mayaro, Sagamore of theSiwanois, Sachem of the Enchanted Clan, is given the greatest missionever offered to any Delaware since Tamenund put on his snowy panoply offeathers and flew through the forest and upward into the air-ocean ofeternal light. 

"A great army of his embattled brothers trusts in him to guide them sothat the Iroquois Confederacy shall be pierced from Gate to Gate, andthe Long House go roaring up in flames. 

"There are many valiant deeds to be accomplished on this comingmarch--deeds worthy of a war-chief of the Lenni-Lenape--deeds fitted todo honour to a Sagamore of the Magic Wolf. 

"I only ask of my friend and blood-brother that he reserve himself forthese great deeds and not risk a chance bullet in ambush for the sakeof an Erie scalp or two--for the sake of a patch of mangy fur whichgrows on these Devil-Cats of Amochol. "

At first his countenance was smooth and blank; as I proceeded, hebecame gravely attentive; then, as I ended, he gave me a quick, unembarrassed, and merry look. 

"Loskiel, " he said laughingly, "Mayaro plays with the Cat-People. Achild's skill only is needed to take their half-shed fur and dash themsqualling and spitting and kicking into Biskoonah!"

He resumed his painting with a shrug of contempt, adding:

"Amochol rages in vain. Upon this wizard a Mohican spits! One by onehis scalped acolytes tumble and thump among the dead and bloody forestleaves. The Siwanois laugh at them. Let the red sorcerer of the Senecasmake strong magic so that his cats return to life, and the vile furgrows once more where a Mohican has ripped it out!"

"Each night you go forth and scalp. Each morning you paint. Is this tocontinue, Sagamore?"

"My brother sees, " he said proudly. "Cats were made for skinning. "

There was nothing to do about it; no more to be said. I nowcomprehended this, as I stood lacing my rifle-shirt and watching him athis weird self-embellishment. 

"The war-paint you have worn each day has seemed to me somewhatunusual, " I said curiously. 

He glanced sharply up at me, scowled, then said gravely:

"When a Sagamore of the Mohicans paints for a war against warriors, thepaint is different. But, " he added, and his eyes blazed, and the veryscalp-lock seemed to bristle on his shaven head, "when a Lenape Sachemof the Enchanted Clan paints for war with Seneca sorcerers, he wearsalso the clean symbols of his sacred priesthood, so that he may fightbad magic with good magic, sorcery with sorcery, and defy this scarletpriest--this vile, sly Warlock Amochol!"

Truly there was no more for me to say. I dared not let him believe thathis movements were either watched or under the slightest shadow ofrestraint. I knew it was useless to urge on him the desirability ofinaction until the army moved. Be might perhaps have understood me andlistened to me, were the warfare he was now engaged in only the redknight-errantry of an Indian seeking glory. But he had long since wonhis spurs. 

And this feud with Amochol was something far more deadly than merewarfare; it was the clash of a Mohican Sagamore of the Sacred Clan withthe dreadful and abhorred priesthood of the Senecas--the hatred andinfuriated contempt of a noble and ordained priest for the black-magicof a sorcerer--orthodoxy, militant and terrible, scourging blasphemyand crushing its perverted acolytes at the very feet of theirAntichrist. 

I began to understand this strange, stealthy slaughter in the dark, which only the eyes of the midnight sky looked down on, while I laysoundly sleeping. I knew that nothing I could say would now keep thisSiwanois at my side at night. Yet, he had been given me to guard. Whatshould I do? Major Parr might not understand--might even order theSagamore confined to barracks under guard. The slightest mistake indealing with the Siwanois might prove fatal to all our hopes of him. 

All the responsibility, therefore, must rest on me; and I must use myjudgment and abide by the consequences. 

Had it been, as I have said, any other nation but the Senecas, I amcertain that I could have restrained the Indian. But the combination ofSeneca, Erie, and Amochol prowling around our picket-line was too muchfor the outraged Sagamore of the Spirit Wolf. And I now comprehended itthoroughly. 

As I sat thinking at our bush-hut door, the endless lines of wagonswere still passing toward Otsego Lake, piled high with stores, and Isaw Schott's riflemen filing along in escort, their tow-clothrifle-frocks wide open to their sweating chests. 

Almost all the troops had already marched to the lake and had pitchedtents there, while Alden's chastened regiment was damming the waters sothat when our boats were ready the dam might be broken and the highwater carry our batteaux over miles of shallow water to Tioga Point, where our main army now was concentrating. 

When were the Rifles to march? I did not know. Sitting there in thesun, moodily stripping a daisy of its petals, I thought of Lois, troubled, wondering how her security and well-being might beestablished. 

The hour could not be very distant now before our corps marched to thelake. What would she do? What would become of her if she still refusedto be advised by me?

As for her silly desire to go to Catharines-town, the more I thoughtabout it the less serious consideration did I give it. The thing was, of course, impossible. No soldiers' wives were to be permitted to go asfar as Wyalusing or Wyoming. Even here, at this encampment, theofficers' ladies had left, although perhaps many of them might haveremained longer with their husbands had it been known that thedeparture of the troops for Otsego Lake was to be delayed by the slowarrival of cattle and provisions. 

In the meantime, the two companies of my regiment attached to thisbrigade were still out on scout with Major Parr; and when they returnedI made no doubt that we would shoulder packs, harness our wagons, andtake the lake road next morning. 

And what would become of Lois? Perplexed and dejected, I wandered aboutthe willow-run, pondering the situation; sat for a while on theriver-bank to watch the batteaux and the Oneida canoes; then, everrestless with my deepening solicitude for Lois, I walked over to thefort. And the first man I laid eyes on was Lieutenant Boyd, conversingwith some ladies on the parade. 

He did not see me. He had evidently returned from the main body with asmall scout the night before, and now was up and dressed in his best, spick and span and gay, fairly shining in the sunlight as he stoodleaning against a log prop, talking with these ladies where they wereseated on one of the rustic settles lately made by Alden's men. 

Venturing nearer, I found that I knew all of the ladies, for one wasthe handsome wife of Captain Bleecker, of the 3rd New York, and anotherproved to be Angelina Lansing, wife of Gerrit Lansing, Ensign in thesame regiment. 

The third lady was a complete surprise to me, she being that pretty andvivacious Magdalene Helmer--called Lana--the confidante of ClarissaPutnam--a bright-eyed, laughing beauty from Tribes Hill, whom I hadknown very well at Guy Park, where she often stayed with her friend, Miss Putnam, when Sir John Johnson was there. 

As I recognised them, Boyd chanced to glance around, and saw me. Hesmiled and spoke to the ladies; all lifted their heads and looked in mydirection; and Lana Helmer waved her handkerchief and coolly blew me akiss from her finger-tips. 

So, cap in hand, I crossed the parade, made my best bow and respects toeach in turn, replaced my cap, and saluted Lieutenant Boyd, whoreturned my salute with pretended hauteur, then grinned and offered hishand. 

"See what a bower of beauty is blossomed over night in these drearybarracks, Loskiel. There seems to be some happiness left in the worldfor the poor rifleman. "

"Do you remain?" I asked of Mrs. Bleecker. 

"Indeed we do, " she said, laughing, "provided that my husband'sregiment remains. As soon as we understood that they had not beenordered into the Indian country we packed our boxes and came up bybatteau last night. The news about my husband's regiment is true, is itnot?"

"Colonel Gansevoort's regiment is not to join General Sullivan, but isto be held to guard the Valley. I had the news yesterday for certain. "

"What luck!" said Boyd, his handsome eyes fixed on Lana Helmer, whoshot at him a glance as daring. And it made me uneasy to see she meantto play coquette with such a man as Boyd; and I remembered her highspirits and bright daring at the somewhat loose gatherings at Guy Park, where every evening too much wine was drunk, and Sir John and Clarissamade no secret of the flame that burned between them. 

Yet, of Lana Helmer never a suspicious word had been breathed that everI had heard--for it seemed she could dare where others dared not; sayand do and be what another woman might not, as though her wit andbeauty licensed what had utterly damned another. Nor did her devotionand close companionship with Clarissa ever seem to raise a question asto her own personal behaviour. And well I remember a gay company beingat cards and wine one day in the summer house on the river hew sheanswered a disrespect of Sir John with a contemptuous rebuke which sentthe muddy blood into his face and left him ashamed--the only time Iever saw him so. 

Ensign Chambers came a-mincing up, was presented to the ladies, languidly made preparations for taking Mrs. Lansing by storm; and thefirst deadly grace he pictured for her was his macaroni manner oftaking snuff--with which fascinating ceremony he had turned many asilly head in New York ere we marched out and the British marched in. 

I talked for a while with Mrs. Bleecker of this and that, striving thewhile to catch Lana Helmer's eye. For not only did her coquetry withBoyd make me uneasy, knowing them both as I did, but on my own accountI desired to speak to her in private when opportunity afforded. Aloneand singly either of these people stood in no danger from the outerworld. Pitted against each other, what their recklessness might lead toI did not know. For since Boyd's attempted gallantries toward Lois--hebelieving her to be as youthful and depraved as seemed the case--a deepand growing distrust for this man which I had never before felt hadsteadily invaded my friendship for him. Also, he had already an affairwith a handsome wench at the Middle Fort, one Dolly Glenn, and the pooryoung thing was plainly mad about him. 

I heard Mrs. Lansing propose a stroll to the river before dinner, onthe chance of meeting her husband's regiment returning, whichsuggestion seemed to suit all; and in the confusion of chatter andlaughter and the tying of a sun-mask by Mrs. Bleecker, aided by Boydand by the exquisite courtier, I cleverly contrived to supplant Boydwith Lana Helmer, and not only stuck to her side, but managed to securethe rear of the strolling column. 

All this manoeuvre did not escape her, and as we fell a few pacesbehind, she looked up at me with a most deadly challenge in her violeteyes. 

"Now, " she said, "that you have driven off your rival, I am resigned tobe courted. .. . Heaven knows you wasted opportunities enough at GuyPark. "

I laughed. 

"How strange it is, Lana, " I said, "to be here with you; I in rifledress and thrums, hatchet, and knife at my Mohawk girdle; you in chiphat and ribbons and dainty gown, lifting your French petticoat over themuddy ruts cut on the King's Highway by rebel artillery!"

"Who would have dreamed it three years ago?" she said, her face nowsober enough. 

"I thought your people were Tory, " said I. 

"Not mine, Euan; Clarissa's. "

"Where is that child?" I asked pityingly. 

"Clarissa? Poor lamb--she's in Albany still. "

I did not speak, but it was as though she divined my unasked question. 

"Aye, she is in love with him yet. I never could understand how thatcould be after he married Polly Watts. But she has not changed. .. . Andthat beast, Sir John, installed her in the Albany house. "

I said: "He's somewhere out yonder with the marauders against whom weare to march. They're all awaiting us, it is said; the wholecrew--Johnson's Greens, Butler's Rangers, McDonald's painted Tories, Brant's Mohawks--and the Senecas with their war-chiefs and theirsorcerer, Amochol--truly a motley devil's brood, Lana; and I pray onlythat one of Morgan's men may sight Walter Butler or Sir John over hisrifle's end. "

"To think, " she murmured, "that you and I have dined and wined withthese same gentlemen you now so ardently desire to slay. .. . And youngWalter Butler, too! I saw his mother and his sister in Albany a weekago--two sad and pitiable women, Euan, for every furtive glance castafter them seemed to shout aloud the infamy of their son and brother, the Murderer of Cherry Valley. "

"To my mind, " said I, "he is not sane at all, but gone stark blood-mad. Heaven! How impossible it seems that this young man with his handsomeface and figure, his dreamy melancholy, his charming voice and manners, his skill in verse and music, can be this same Walter Butler whose nameis cursed wherever righteousness and honour exist in human breasts. Why, even Joseph Brant has spurned him, they say, since Cherry Valley!Even his own father stood aghast before such infamy. Old John Butler, when he heard the news, dashed his hands to his temples, groaning out:'I would have crawled from this place to Cherry Valley on my hands andknees to save those people; and why my son did not spare them, God onlyknows. '"

Lana shook her pretty head. 

"I can not seem to believe it of him even yet. I try to think of Walteras a murderer of little children, and it is not possible. Why, it seemsbut yesterday that I stood plaguing him on the stone doorstep at GuyPark--calling him Walter Ninny and Walter Noodle to vex him. Youremember, Euan, that his full name is Walter N. Butler, and that henever would tell us what the N. Stands for, but we guessed it stood forNellis, in honour of Nellis Fonda. .. . Lord! What a world o' trouble forus all in these three years!"

"I had supposed you married long ago, Lana. The young Patroon was veryardent. "

"I? The sorry supposition! I marry--in the face of the sad andmiserable examples all my friends afford me! Not I, Euan, unless----"She smiled at me with pretty malice. "----you enter the lists. Do youthen enter?" I reddened and laughed, and she, always enchanted toplague and provoke me, began her art forthwith, first innocentlyslipping her arm through mine, as though to support her flagging steps, then, as if by accident, letting one light finger slip along my sleeveto touch my hand and linger lightly. 

Years ago, when we were but seventeen, she had delighted to tease andembarrass me with her sweetly malicious coquetry, ever on the watch toobserve my features redden. I remember she sometimes offered toexchange kisses with me; but I was a ninny, and a serious and hopelessone at that, and would have none of her. 

I believe we were thinking of the same thing now, and when I caught hereye the gay malice of it was not to be mistaken. 

"Lanette, " said I, "take care! I am a soldier since you had your saucyway with me. You know that the military are not to be dealt withlightly. And I am grown up in these three years. "

"Grown soberer, perhaps. You always did conduct like a piousBroad-brim, Euan. "

"I've a mind to kiss you now, " said I, vexed. 

"Kiss away, kind sir. You have me in the rear o! them. Now's youropportunity!"

"Doubtless you'd cry out. "

"Doubtless I wouldn't. "

"Wait for some moonlit evening when we're unobserved----"

"Broad-brim!"

I laughed, and so did she, saying:

"I warrant you that your pretty Lieutenant Boyd had never waited for mychallenge twice!"

"Best look out for Boyd, " said I. "He's of your own careless, recklesskind, Lanette. Sparks fly when flint and steel encounter. "

"Cold sparks, friend Broad-brim!"

"Not too cold to set tinder afire. "

"Am I then tinder? You should know me better. "

"In every one of us, " said I, "there is an element which, when it meetsits fellow in another, unites with it, turning instantly to fire andburning to the very soul. "

"How wise have you become in alchemy and metaphysics!" she exclaimed inmock admiration. 

"Oh, I am not wise in anything, and you know it, Lana. "

"I don't know it. You've been wise enough to keep clear of me, if thatbe truly wisdom. Come, Euan, what do you think? Do you and I containthese fellow elements, that you seem to dread our mutual conflagrationif you kiss me?"

"You know me better. "

"Do I? No, I don't. Young sir, caper not too confidently in your coatof many colours! If you flout me once too often I may go after you, asa Mohawk follows a scalp too often flaunted by the head that wears it!"

I tried to sustain her delighted gaze and reddened, and the impudentlittle beauty laughed and clung to my arm in a very ecstasy of malice, made breathless by her own mirth. 

"Come, court me prettily, Euan. It is my due after all these grey andQuaker years when I made eyes at you from the age of twelve, and wononly a scowl or two for my condescension. "

But we had reached the river bank, and there the group came once moretogether, the ladies curious to see the batteaux arriving, loaded withvalley sheep, we officers pointing out to them the canoes of our corpsof Oneida guides, and Hanierri and the Reverend Mr. Kirkland readingtheir Testaments under the shade of the trees, gravely absorbed in God. 

"A good man, " said I, "and brave. But his honest Stockbridge Indiansknow no more of Catharines-town than do the converted Oneidas yonder. "

Boyd nodded: "I prophesy they quit us one and all within anarrow-flight of Wyalusing. Do you take me, Loskiel?"

"No, you are right, " I said. "The fear of the Long House chains them, and their long servitude has worn like fetters to their very bones. Redcoats they can face, and have done so gallantly. But there is inthem a fear of the Five Nations past all understanding of a white man. "

I spoke to a diminished audience, for already Boyd and Lana Helmer hadstrolled a little way together, clearly much interested in each other'sconversation. Presently our precious senior Consign sauntered the otherway with pretty Mistress Lansing on his arm. As for me, I was contentedto see them go--had been only waiting for it. And what I had thought Imight venture to say to Lana Helmer by warrant of old acquaintance, Iwas now glad that I had not said at all--the years having in no wisesubdued the mischief in her, nor her custom of plaguing me. And howmuch she had ever really meant I could not truly guess. No, it had beenanything but wise to speak to her of Lois. But now I meant to mentionLois to Mrs. Bleecker. 

We had seated ourselves on the sun-crisped Indian grass, and for awhile I let her chatter of Guy Park and our pleasant acquaintancethere, and of Albany, too, where we had met sometimes at the TenBroecks, the Schuylers, and the Patroons. And all the while I wasdebating within my mind how this proud and handsome, newly-married girlmight receive my halting story. For it would not do to conceal anythingvital to the case. Her clear, wise eyes would see instantly through anyevasion, not to say deception--even a harmless deception. No; if shewere to be of any aid in this deeply-perplexing business, I must tellher the story of Lois--not betraying anything that the girl mightshrink from having others know, but stating her case and her conditionas briefly and as honestly as I might. 

And no sooner did I come to this conclusion than I spoke; and after thefirst word or two Mrs. Bleecker put off her sun-mask and turned, looking me directly in the eyes. 

I said that the young lady's name was Lois de Contrecoeur--and if itwere not that it was nothing, and human creatures require a name! Butthis I did not say to her, nor thought it necessary to mention anydoubt as to the girl's parentage, only to say she was the child ofcaptives taken by the Senecas after the Lake George rout. 

I told of her dreary girlhood, saying merely that her foster parentswere now dead and that the child had conceived the senseless project ofpenetrating to Catharines-town, where she believed her mother, atleast, was still held captive. 

The tall, handsome girl beside me listened without a word, her intentgaze never leaving me; and when I had done, and the last word in mybrief for Lois had been uttered, she bent her head in thought, and socontinued minute after minute while I sat there waiting. 

At last she looked up at me again, suddenly, as though to surprise mysecret reflections; and if she did so I do not know, for she smiled andheld out her hand to me with so pretty a confidence that my lipstrembled as I pressed them to her fingers. And now something within herseemed to have been reassured, for her eyes and her lips became faintlyhumorous. 

"And where is this most forlorn and errant damsel, Sir Euan?" sheinquired. "For if I doubt her when I see her, no more than I doubt youwhen I look at you, something should be done in her behalf withoutdelay. .. . The poor, unhappy child! And what a little fool! The Lordlooks after his lambs, surely, surely--drat the little hussy! It madsme to even think of her danger. Did a body ever hear the like of it!A-gypsying all alone--loitering around this army's camp! Mercy! Andwhat a little minx it is to so conduct--what with our godless, cursingheadlong soldiery, and the loud, swaggering forest-runners! Lord! Butit chills me to the bone! The silly, saucy baggage!"

She shuddered there in the hot sunshine, then shot at me a look so keenand penetrating that I felt my ears go red. Which sudden distress on mypart again curved her lips into an indulgent smile. 

"I always thought I knew you, Euan Loskiel, " she said. "I think sostill. .. . As for your fairy damsel in distress--h'm--when may I seeher?"

In a low voice I confessed the late raggedness of Lois, and how she nowwore an Oneida dress until the boxes, which I had commanded, mightarrive from Albany. I had to tell her this, had to explain how I hadwon from Lois this privilege of giving, spite of her pride. 

"If I could bring her to you, " said I, "fittingly equipped and clothed, the pride in her would suffer less. Were you to go with me now in yourpretty silk and scarf, and patch and powder, and stand before her inthe wretched hut which shelters her--the taint of charity would poisoneverything. For she is like you, Mrs. Bleecker, lacking only what doesnot make, but merely and prettily confirms your quality andbreeding--clothing and shelter, and the means to live fittingly. .. . Forit is not condescension, not the lesser charity I ask, or she couldreceive; it is the countenance that birth lends to its equal in direadversity. "

Curious and various were the emotions which passed in rapid successionover her pretty features; and not all seemed agreeable. Then suddenlyher eyes reflected a hidden laughter, and presently it came forth, amerry peal, and sweet withal. 

"Oh, Euan, what a boy you are! Had I been any other woman--but let itgo. You are as translucent as a woodland brook, and--at times youbabble like one, confident that your music pleases everyone who hearsit. .. . I pray you let me judge whether the errant lady be what a poet'ssoul would have her. .. . I am not speaking with any unkind thought ordoubt. .. . But woman must judge woman. It is the one thing no man canever do for her. And the less he interferes during the judgment thebetter. "

"Then I'll say no more, " said I, forcing a smile. 

"Oh, say all you please, as long as you do not tell me what you thinkabout her. Tell me facts, not what your romantic heart surmises. And ifshe were the queen of Sheba in disguise, or if she were a titled SaintJames drab, no honest woman but who would see through and through her, and, ere she rose from her low reverence, would know her truly forexactly what she is. "

"Lord!" said I. "Is that the way you read us, also?"

"No. Women may read women. But never one who lived has read truly anyman, humble or high. Say that to the next pretty baggage who vows shereads you like a book! And in her secret heart she will know you saythe truth--and know it, raging even while her smile remains unaltered. For it is true, Euan; true concerning you men, also. Not one among youall has ever really read us right. The difference is this; we know wecan not read you, but scorn to admit it; you honestly believe that youcan read us, and often boast of doing it. Which sex is the greaterfool, judge you? I have my own opinion. "

We both laughed; after a moment she put on her sun-mask and I tied it. 

"Where do you and Mrs. Lansing lodge until your husband's regimentreturns?" I asked. 

"They have given us the old Croghan house. What it lacks in elegance ofappointment it gains in hospitality. If we had a dish of tea to brewfor you gentlemen we would do it; but Indian willow makes a vile andbitter tea, and I had as lief go tealess, as I do and expect tocontinue until our husbands teach the Tory King his manners. "

She rose, giving me her pretty hand to aid her, shook out her daintyskirts, put up her quizzing glass, and inspected me, smilingly. 

"Bring her when you think it time, " she said. "Somehow I alreadybelieve that she may be something of what your fancy paints her. Andthat would be a miracle. "

"Truly she is a miracle, " I said earnestly. 

"Then remember not to say it to Angelina Lansing--and above all neverhint as much to Lana Helmer. Women are human; and pretty women perhapsa little less than human. Leave them to me. For if this romantic damselbe truly what you picture her, I'll have to tell a pretty fib or twoconcerning her and you, I warrant you. Leave that saucy baggage, Lanette, to me, Euan. And you keep clear of her, too. She's murderousto men's peace of mind--more fatal than ever since Clarissa played thefool. "

"I was assassinated by Lana long ago, " said I, smiling. "I am proof. "

"Nevertheless, beware!" she whispered, as Boyd and Lana came saunteringup. And there seemed to me to be now about them both a carelessindifference, almost studied, and in noticeable contrast to theirbright animation when they had left us half an hour ago. 

"Such a professional heart-breaker as your Mr. Boyd is, " observed Lanacoolly to us both. "I never before encountered such assurance. What hemust be in queue and powder, silk and small-sword, I dare not surmise. A pitying heaven has protected me so far, and, " she added, lookingdeliberately at Boyd, "I ought to be grateful, ought I not, sir?"

Boyd made her a too low and over-courtly bow. 

"Always the gallant and victorious adversary salutes the vanquished asyou, fair lady, have saluted me--imputing to my insignificant prowessthe very skill and address which has overthrown me. "

"Are you overthrown?"

"Prone in the dust, mademoiselle! Draw Mr. Loskiel's knife and end menow in mercy. "

"Then I will strike. .. . Who is the handsome wench who passed us but amoment since, and who looked at you with her very heart trembling inher eyes?"

"How should I know?"

They stood looking smilingly at each other; and their smile did notseem quite genuine to me, but too clear, and a trifle hard, as thoughsomehow it was a sort of mask for some subtler defiance. I reflecteduneasily that no real understanding could be possible between these twoin such a brief acquaintance; and, reassured, turned to greet ourmacaroni Ensign and Mistress Angelina Lansing, now approaching us. 

That our regimental fop had sufficient diverted her was patent, shebeing over-flushed and smiling, and at gay swords' points already withhim, while he whisked his nose with his laced hanker and scattered theperfume of his snuff to the four winds. 

So, two and two, we walked along the road to Croghan's house, where wasa negro wench to aid them and a soldier-servant to serve them. And theodd bits of furniture that had been used at our General's headquartershad been taken there to eke out with rough make-shifts, fashioned byAlden's men, a very scanty establishment for these three ladies. 

Lana Helmer, to my surprise, motioned me to walk beside her; and allthe way to Croghan's house she continued close to me, seeming topurposely avoid Boyd. And he the same, save that once or twice helooked at her, which was more than she did to him, I swear. 

She was now very serious and sweet with me on our way to Croghan's, notjeering at me or at any of her teasing tricks, but conversingreasonably and prettily, and with that careless confidence which to aman is always pleasant and sometimes touching. 

Of the old days we spoke much; the past was our theme--which is not anunusual topic for the young, although they live, generally, only in thefuture. And it was "Do you recall this?" and "Do you remember that?"and "Do you mind the day" when this and that occurred? Incidents weboth had nigh forgotten were recalled gravely or smilingly, but therewas no laughter--none, somehow, seemed to be left either in her heartor mine. 

Twice I spoke of Clarissa, wishing, with kindliest intention, to hearmore of the unhappy child; but in neither instance did Lana appear tonotice what I had said, continuing silent until I, too, grew reticent, feeling vaguely that something had somehow snapped our mutual thread ofsympathy. 

At the door of Croghan's house we gathered to make our adieux, thenfirst went mincing our Ensign about his precious business; and thenBoyd took himself off, as though with an effort; and Lana and AngelinaLansing went indoors. 

"Bring her to me when I am alone, " whispered Betty Bleecker, with avery friendly smile. "And let the others believe that you stand fornothing in this affair. "

And so I went away, thinking of many things--too many and tooperplexing, perhaps, for the intellect of a very young man deeply inlove--a man who knows he is in love, and yet remains incredulous thatit is indeed love which so utterly bewilders and afflicts him. 

CHAPTER IX

MID-SUMMER

Since our arrival from Westchester the weather had been more or lessunsettled--fog, rain, chilling winds alternating with days of midsummerheat. But now the exhausting temperature of July remained constant;fiery days of sunshine were succeeded by nights so hot and suffocatingthat life seemed well-nigh insupportable under tents or in barracks, and officers and men, almost naked, lay panting along the river bankthrough the dreadful hours of darkness which brought no relief from thefiery furnace of the day. 

Schott's riflemen mounted guard stripped to the waist; the Oneidas andStockbridge scouts strode about unclothed save for the narrow clout andsporran; and all day and all night our soldiers splashed in the riverwhere our horses also stood belly deep, heads hanging, under thewillows. 

During that brief but scorching period I went to Mrs. Rannock's everyevening after dark, and usually found Lois lying in the open under thestars, the garret being like an oven, so she said. 

Here we had made up our quarrel, and here, on the patch of uncutEnglish grass, we lay listlessly, speaking only at intervals, gaspingfor air and coolness, which neither darkness nor stars had brought tothis sun-cursed forest-land. 

But for the last two nights I had not found Lois waiting for me, nordid Mrs. Rannock seem to know whither she had gone, which caused memuch uneasiness. 

The third evening I went to find her at Mrs. Rannock's before theafter-glow had died from the coppery zenith, and I encountered hermoving toward the Spring path, just entering the massed elder bloom. Her face was dewy with perspiration, pale, and somewhat haggard. 

"Lois, why have you avoided me?" I exclaimed. "All manner of vagueforebodings have assailed me these two days past. "

"Listen to this silly lad!" she said impatiently. "As though a fewhours' absence lessen loyalty and devotion!"

"But where have you been?"

"Where I may not take you, Euan. "

"And where is that?" I asked bluntly. 

"Lord! What a catechism is this for a free girl to answer willy-nilly!If you must know, I have played the maid of ancient Greece these twonights past. Otherwise, I had died, I think. "

And seeing my perplexed mien, she began to laugh. 

"Euan, you are stupid! Did not the Grecian maids spend half their livesin the bath?"

The slight flush of laughter faded from her face; the white fatiguecame back; and she passed the back of one hand wearily across her brow, clearing it of the damp curls. 

"The deadly sultriness of these nights, " she sighed. "I was no longerable to endure the heat under the eaves among my dusty husks. So latelyI have stolen at night to the Spring Waiontha to bathe in the still, cold pools. Oh, Euan, it is most delicious! I have slept there untildawn, lying up to my throat in the crystal flood. " She laughed again. "And once, lying so, asleep, my body slipped and in I slid, deep, deepin, and awoke in a dreadful fright half drowned. "

"Is it wise to sleep so in the Water?" I asked uneasily. 

"Oh! Am I ever wise?" she said wearily. "And the blood beats in myveins these heated nights so that I am like to suffocate. I made a bedfor me by Mrs. Rannock, but she sobbed in her sleep all night and Icould not close my eyes, So I thought of the Spring Waiontha, and thenext instant was on my way there, feeling the path with naked feetthrough the starlight, and dropped my clothing from me in the darknessand sank into the cool, sweet pool. Oh, it was heaven, Euan! I wouldyou might come also. "

"I can walk as far as the pool with you, at all events, " said I. 

"Wonderful! And will you?"

"Do I ever await asking to follow you anywhere?" said I sentimentally. 

But she only laughed at me and led the way across the dreary strip ofclearing, moving with a swift confidence in her knowledge of the place, which imitating, I ran foul of a charred stump, and she heard what Isaid. 

"Poor lad!" she exclaimed contritely, slipping her hand into mine. "Ishould have guided you. Does it pain you?"

"Not much. "

Our hands were clasped, and she pressed mine with all the sweet freedomof a comradeship which means nothing deeper. For I now had learned fromher own lips, sadly enough, how it was with her--how she regarded ourfriendship. It was to her a deep and living thing--a noble emotion, nota passion--a belief founded on gratitude and reason, not a confused, blind longing and delight possessing every waking moment, ever creatingfor itself a thousand tender dreams or fanciful and grotesqueapprehensions. 

Clear-headed so far, reasonable in her affection, gay or tender as themood happened, convinced that what I declared to be my love for her wasbut a boy's exaggeration for the same sentiments she entertained towardme, how could she have rightly understood the symptoms of this amazingmalady that possessed me--these reasonless extremes of ardour, ofdejection, of a happiness so keen and thrilling that it painedsometimes, and even at moments seemed to make me almost drunk. 

Nor did I myself entirely comprehend what ailed me, never having beenable to imagine myself in love, or ever dreamed that I possessed thecapacity for such a violent devotion to any woman. I think now, at thatperiod, somewhere under all the very real excitement and emotion of anadolescent encountering for the first time the sweet appeal of youthfulmind and body, that I seemed to feel there might be in it all somethingnot imperishable. And caught myself looking furtively and a littlefearfully at her, at times, striving to conceive myself indifferent. 

When we came to the Spring Waiontha I had walked straight into thewater except for her, so dark it was around us. And:

"How can you ever get back alone?" said she. 

"Oho!" said I, laughing, "I left the willow-tips a-dangle, breakingthem with my left hand. I am woodsman enough to feel my way out. "

"But not woodsman enough to spare your shins in the clearing, " she saidsaucily. 

"Shall we sit and talk?" I said. 

"Oh, Euan! And my bath! I am fairly melting as I stand here. "

"But I have not seen you for two entire nights, Lois. "

"I know, poor boy, but you seem to have survived. "

"When I do not see you every day I am most miserable. "

"So am I--but I am reasonable, too. I say to myself, if I don't seeEuan today I will nevertheless see him to-morrow, or the day after, orthe next, God willing----"

"Lois!"

"What?"

"How can you reason so coldly?"

"I--reason coldly? There is nothing cold in me where you are concerned. But I have to console myself for not seeing you----"

"I am inconsolable, " said I fervently. 

"No more than am I, " she retorted hotly, as though jealous that Ishould arrogate to myself a warmer feeling concerning her than sheentertained for me. 

"I care so much for you, Lois, " said I. 

"And I for you. "

"Not as I care for you. "

"Exactly as you care for me. Do you think me insensible to gratitudeand affection?"

"I do not desire your gratitude for a few articles----"

"It isn't for them--though I'm grateful for those things too! It'sgratitude to God for giving me you, Euan Loskiel! And you ought to takeshame to yourself for doubting it!"

I said nothing, being unable to see her in the darkness, much lessperceive what expression she wore for her rebuke to me. Then as I stoodsilent, I felt her little hands groping on my arm; and my own closed onthem and I laid my lips to them. 

"Ai-me!" she said softly. "Why do we fight and fret each other? Why doI, who adore you so, let you vex me and stir me to say what I do notmean at all. Always remember, Euan--always, always--that whatever I amunkind enough to say or do to vex you, in my secret mind I know that noother man on earth is comparable to you--and that you reign first in myheart--first, and all by yourself, alone. "

"And will you try to love me some day, Lois?"

"I do. "

"I mean----"

"Oh, Euan, I do--I do! Only--you know--not in the manner you once spokeof----"

"But I love you in that manner. "

"No, you do not! If you did, doubtless I would respond; no doubt at allthat I also would confess such sentiments in your regard. But it isn'ttrue for either of us. You're a man. All men are prone to harp on thosestrings. .. . But--there is no harmony in them to me. .. . I know my ownmind, although you say I don't--and--I do know yours, too. And if a dayever comes that neither you nor I are longer able to think clearly andcalmly with our minds, but begin to reason with our emotions, then Ishall consider that we are really entering into a state of love--suchas you sometimes have mentioned to me--and will honestly admit as muchto you. .. . And if you then desire to wed me, no doubt that I shalldesire it, too. And I promise in that event to love you--oh, to death, Euan!" she said, pressing my hands convulsively. "If ever I love--thatway--it truly will be love! Are you content with what I say?"

"I must be. "

"What an ungracious answer! I could beat you soundly for it! Euan, yousometimes vex me so that I could presently push you into that pool. .. . I do not mean it, dearest lad. You know you already have myheart--perhaps only a child's heart yet, though I have seen ages passaway. .. . And my eyes have known tears. .. . Perhaps for that reason I amcome out into this new sunshine which you have made for me, to play aschildren play--having never done so in my youth. Bear with me, Euan. You would not want me if there were nothing in me to respond to you. Ifthere ever is, it will not remain silent. But first I want my play-dayin the sunshine you have promised me--the sunlight of a comrade'skindness. Be not too blunt with me. You have my heart, I tell you. Letit lie quiet and safe in your keeping, like some strange, frailchrysalis. I myself know there is a miracle within it; but what thatmiracle may be, I may not guess till it reveals itself. "

"I am a fool, " I said. "God never before sent any man such a comrade asHe has sent in you to me. "

"That was said sweetly and loyally. Thank you. If hearts are to beawakened and won, I think it might be done that way--with such pleasantphrases--given always time. "

Presently she withdrew her hands and slipped away from me in the dark. 

"Be careful, " said I, "or you will slip overboard. "

"I mean to presently. "

"Then--must I go so soon?"

She did not answer. Once I thought I heard her moving softly, but thesound came from the wrong direction. 

"Lois!"

No reply. 

"Lois!" I repeated uneasily. 

There was a ripple in the pool, silence, then somewhere in the darknessa faint splash. 

"Good Lord!" said I. "Have you fallen in?"

"Not fallen in. But I am truly in, Euan. I couldn't endure it anylonger; and you didn't seem to want to go. .. . So please remain whereyou now are. "

"Do you mean to say----" I began incredulously. 

And, "Yes, I do!" she said, defiant. "And I think this ought to teachyou what a comrade's perfect confidence can be. Never complain to me ofmy want of trust in you again. "

In astonished and uneasy silence, I stood listening. The unseen poolrippled in the darkness with a silvery sound, as though a great fishwere swirling there in the pallid lustre of the stars. 

After a while she laughed outright--the light, mischievous laughter ofa child. 

"I feel like one of those smooth and lurking naiads which haunt lostpools--or like some ambushed water-sprite meditating malice, and slylyalert to do you a harm. Have a care, else I transform you into a fishand chase you under the water, and pinch and torment you!"

And presently her voice came again from the more distant darknesssomewhere:

"Has the box which you commanded arrived yet, Euan?"

"It is at my hut. A wagon will bring it to you in the morning. "

I could hear her clap her wet little hands; and she cried out softly:

"Oh!" and "Oh!" Then she said: "I did not understand at first how muchI wished for everything you offered. Only when I saw the ladies atCroghan's house, as I was coming with my mending from the fort--then Iknew I wanted everything you have bespoken for me. .. . Everything, dearlad! Oh, you don't know how truly grateful I shall be. No, you don't, Euan! And if the box is really come, when am I going with you to bemade known to Mistress Bleecker?"

"I think it is better that I first bring her to you. "

"Would she condescend to come?"

"I think so. "

There was a pause. I seated myself. Then the soft and indecisive soundof ripples stirred by an idle hand broke the heated silence. 

"You say they all are your good friends?" she remarked thoughtfully. 

"I know them all. Lana Helmer I have known intimately since we werechildren. "

"Then why is it not better to present me to her first--if you know herso very well?"

"Mrs. Bleecker is older. "

"Oh! Is this Miss Helmer then so young?"

"Your age. "

"Oh! My age. .. . And pretty?"

"The world thinks so. "

"Oh! And what do you think, Euan?"

"Yes, she is pretty, " said I carelessly. 

There was a long silence. I sat there, my knees gathered in my arms, staring up at the stars. 

Then, faintly came her voice:

"Good-night, Euan. "

I rose, laid hold of the willow bush that scraped my shoulders, feltover it until I found the dangling broken branch; stepped forward, groping, until I touched the next broken branch. Then, knowing I was onmy trail, I turned around and called back softly through the darkness:

"Good-night, little Lois!"

"Good-night, and sweet dreams, Euan. I will be dressed and waiting foryou in the morning to go to Mrs. Bleecker, or to receive her as you andshe think fitting. .. . Is there a looking glass in that same wonder-box?"

"Two, Lois. "

"You dear and generous lad!. .. And are there hair-pegs? Heaven knows ifmy clipped poll will hold them. Anyway, I can powder and patch, and--oh, Euan! Is there lip-red and curd-lily lotion for the skin? Notthat I shall love you any less if there be none----"

"I bespoke of Mr. Hake, " said I, laughing, "a full beauty battery, suchas I once saw Betty Schuyler show to Walter Butler, having but thenreceived it from New York. And all I know, Lois, is that it was full ofboxes, jars, and flasks, and smelled like a garden in late June. And ifMr. Hake has not chosen with discretion I shall go South and scalp him!"

"Euan, I adore you!"

"You adore your battery, " said I, not convinced. 

"That, too. But you more than my mirrors, and my lip-red, and the lilylotion--more than my darling shifts and stays and shoon and gowns!. .. Ihad never dreamed I could accept them from you. But you had become sodear to me--and I could read you through and through--and found you solike myself--and it gave me a new pleasure to humble my pride to yourdesires. That is how it came about. Also, I saw those ladies. .. . And Ido not think I shall be great friends with your Lana Helmer--even whenI am fine and brave in gown and powder to face her on equal terms----"

"Lois, what in the world are you babbling?"

"Let me babble, Euan. Never have I been so happy, so content, soexcited yet so confident. .. . Listen; do you dread tomorrow?"

"I?"

"Yes--that I might not do you honour before your fashionablefriends?. .. And I say to you, have no fear. If my gowns are truly whatI think they are, I shall conduct without a tremour--particularly ifyour Lana be there, and that careless, rakish friend of yours, Lieutenant Boyd. "

"Do you remember what you are to say to Boyd if he seems in any wise tothink he has met you elsewhere?"

"I can avoid a lie and deal with him, " she said with calm contempt. "But there is not a chance he'd know me in my powder. "

There was a silence. Then the unseen water rippled and splashed. 

"Poor Euan!" she said. "I wish you might dare swim here in thisheavenly place with me. But we are not god and goddess, and the fabledage is vanished. .. . Good-night, dear lad. .. . And one thing more. .. . Allyou are to me--all you have done for me--don't you understand that Icould not take it from you unless, in my secret heart, I knew that oneday I must be to you all you desire--and all I, too, shall learn towish for?"

"It is written, " I said unsteadily. "It must come to pass. "

"It must come, " she said, in the hushed voice of a child who dreams, wide-eyed awake, murmuring of wonders. 

I slept on the river-sand, not soundly, for all night long men andhorses splashed in the water all around me, and I was conscious of manypeople stirring, of voices, the dip of paddles, and of the slowbatteaux passing with the wavelets slapping on their bows. Then, thenext I knew--bang! And the morning gun jarred me awake. 

I had bathed and dressed, but had not yet breakfasted when one of ourregimental wagons came to take the box to Lois--a fine and noble boxindeed, in its parti-coloured cowhide cover, and a pretty pattern ofbrass nails all over it, making here a star and there a sunburst, around the brass plate engraven with her name: "Lois de Contrecoeur. "

Then the wagon drove away, and the Sagamore and I broke bread together, seated in the willow shade, the heat in our bush-hut beinginsupportable. 

"No more scalps, Mayaro?" I taunted him, having already inspected theunpleasant trophies behind the hut. "How is this, then? Are the Catsall skinned?"

He smiled serenely. "They have crept westward to lick their scars, Loskiel. A child may safely play in the forest now from the uppercastle and Torloch to the Minnisink. "

"Has Amochol gone?"

"To make strong magic for his dead Cats, little brother. The Siwanoishatchets are still sticking in the heads of Hiokatoo's Senecas. Lettheir eight Sachems try to pull them out. "

"So you have managed to wound a Seneca or two?"

"Three, Loskiel--but the rifle was one of Sir William's, and carried tothe left, and only a half-ounce ball. My brother Loskiel will makeproper requisition of the Commissary of Issues and draw a weapon fitfor a Mohican warrior. "

"Indeed I will, " said I, smilingly, knowing well enough that thefour-foot, Indian-trade, smooth bore was no weapon for this warrior;nor was it any kindness in such times as these to so arm our corps ofOneida scouts. 

After breakfast I went to the fort and found that Major Parr and hiscommand had come in the night before from their long and very arduousscout beyond the Canajoharrie Castle. 

The Major received me, inquiring particularly whether I had contrivedto keep the Sagamore well affected toward our cause; and seemed muchpleased when I told him that this Siwanois and I had practiced the riteof blood-brotherhood. 

"Excellent, " said he. "And I don't mind admitting to you that I placevery little reliance on the mission Indians as guides--neither on theStockbridge runners nor on the Oneidas, who have come to us more infear of the Long House than out of any particular loyalty or desire toaid us. "

"That is true, sir. They had as soon enter hell as Catharines-town. "

The Major nodded and continued to open and read the letters which hadarrived during his absence. 

"May I draw one of our rifles for my Mohican, sir?" I asked. 

"We have very few. Schott's men have not yet all drawn their arms. "

"Nevertheless----"

"You think it necessary?"

"I think it best to properly arm the only reliable guide this army hasin its service, Major. "

"Very well, Mr. Loskiel. .. . And see that you keep this fellow in goodhumour. Use your own wit and knowledge; do as you deem best. All I askof you is to keep this wild beast full fed and properly flattered untilwe march. "

"Yes, sir, " I said gravely, thinking to myself in a sad sort of wonderhow utterly the majority of white men mistook their red brethren of theforest, and how blind they were not to impute to them the same humanitythat they arrogated to themselves. 

So much could have been done had men of my blood and colour dealt noblywith a noble people. Yet, even Major Parr, who was no fool and who wasfar more enlightened than many, spoke of a Mohican Sagamore as "thiswild beast, " and seriously advised me to keep him "full fed andproperly flattered!"

"Yes, sir, " I repeated, saluting, and almost inclined to laugh in hisface. 

So I first made requisition for the lang rifle, then reported to mycaptain, although being on special detail under Major Parr's personalorders, this was nothing more than a mere courtesy. 

The parade already swarmed with our men mustering for inspection; I metLieutenant Boyd, and we conversed for a while, he lamenting theimpossibility of making a boating party with the ladies, being on dutyuntil three o'clock. And:

"Who is this new guest of Mrs. Bleecker?" he asked curiously. "Iunderstand that you are acquainted with her. What is her name? A Missde Contrecoeur?"

I had not been prepared for that, never expecting that Mrs. Bleeckerhad already started to prepare the way; but I kept my countenance andanswered coolly enough that I had the honour of knowing Miss deContrecoeur. 

"She came by batteau from Albany?"

"Her box, " said I, "has just arrived from Albany by batteau. "

"Is the lady young and handsome?" he asked, smiling. 

"Both, Mr. Boyd. "

"Well, " he said, with a polite oath, "she must be something more, too, if she hopes to rival Lana Helmer. "

So it had already come to such terms of intimacy that he now spoke ofher as Lana. For the last few days I had not been to Croghan's house topay my respects, the heat leaving me disinclined to stir from the shadeof the river trees. Evidently it had not debarred Boyd from presentinghimself, or her from receiving him, although a note brought to me fromMrs. Bleecker by her black wench said that both she and AngelinaLansing were ill with the heat and kept their rooms. 

"We are bidden to cake and wine at five, " said I. "Are you going?"

He said he would be present, and so I left him buckling on his belt, and the conch-horn's blast echoing over the parade, sounding theassembly. 

At the gate I encountered Lana and Mrs. Lansing and our preciousEnsign, come to view the inspection, and exchanged a gay greeting withthem. 

Then, mending my pace, I hastened to Croghan's house, and found Mrs. Bleecker pacing the foot-path and nibbling fennel. 

"How agreeably cool it is growing, " she said as I bent over herfingers. "I truly believe we are to have an endurable day at last. " Shesmiled at me as I straightened up, and continued to regard me veryintently, still slightly smiling. 

"What has disturbed your usual equanimity, Euan? You seem as flushedand impatient as--as a lover at a tryst, for example. "

At that I coloured so hotly that she laughed and took my arm, saying:

"There is no sport in plaguing so honest a heart as yours, dear lad. Come; shall we walk over to call upon your fairy princess? Or had yourather bring her here to me?"

"She also leaves it to your pleasure, " I said; "Naturally, " said Mrs. Bleecker, with a touch of hauteur; then, softening, smiled as much atherself as at me, I think. 

"Come, " she said gaily. "Sans cérémonie, n'est-ce pas?"

And we sauntered down the road. 

"Her box arrived last evening, " said I. "God send that Mr. Hake haschosen to please her. "

"Is he married?"

"No. "

"Lord!" said she gravely. "Then it is well enough that you pray. .. . Perhaps, however, " and she gave me a mischievous look, "you haveentrusted such commissions to Mr. Hake before. "

"I never have!" I said earnestly, then was obliged to join in herdelighted laughter. 

"I knew you had not, Euan. But had I asked that question of yourfriend, Mr. Boyd, and had he answered me as you did, I might havethought he lied. "

I said nothing. 

"He is at our house every day, and every moment when he is not onduty, " she remarked. 

"What gallant man would not do the like, if privileged?" I said lightly. 

"Lana talks with him too much. Angelina and I have kept our rooms, as Iwrote you, truly dreading a stroke of the sun. But Lana! Lord! She wasup and out and about with her lieutenant; and he had an Oneida to takethem both boating--and then he had the canoe only, and paddled ithimself. .. . They were gone too long to suit me, " she added curtly. 

"When?"

"Every night. I wish I knew where they go in their canoe. But I can donothing with Lana. .. . You, perhaps, might say a friendly word to Mr. Boyd--if you are on that footing with him--to consider Lana'sreputation a little more, and his own amusement a little less. "

I said slowly: "Whatever footing I am on with him, I will say that tohim, if you wish. "

"I don't wish you to provoke him. "

"I shall take pains not to. "

She said impatiently: "There are far too many army duels now. Itsickens me to hear of them. Besides, Lana did ever raise the devilbeyond bounds with any man she could ensnare--and no harm done. "

"No harm, " I said. "Walter Butler had a hurt of her bright eyes, andsulked for months. And many another, Mrs. Bleecker. But somehow, Mr. Boyd--"

She nodded: "Yes--he's too much like her--but, being a man, scarcely asinnocent of intention, I've said as much to her, and left herpouting--the silly little jade. "

We said nothing more, having come in sight of the low house of logswhere Lois dwelt. 

"The poor child, " said Mrs. Bleecker softly. "Lord! What a kennel for ahuman being!"

As we approached we saw Mrs. Rannock crossing the clearing in thedistance, laden with wash from the fort; and I briefly acquainted myhandsome companion with her tragic history. Then, coming to the door, Iknocked. A lovely figure opened for us. 

So astonished was I--it having somehow gone from my mind that Loiscould be so changed, that for a moment I failed to recognise her inthis flushed and radiant young creature advancing in willowy beautyfrom the threshold. 

As she sank very low in her pretty reverence, I saw her curly hair alldusted with French powder, under the chip hat with its lilac ribbonstied beneath her chin--and the beauty-patch on her cheek I saw, and howsnowy her hands were, where her fingers held her flowered gown spread. 

Then, recovering, she rose gracefully from her reverence, and I saw herclear grey eyes star-brilliant as I had never seen them, and abreathless little smile edging her lips. 

On Mrs. Bleecker the effect she produced was odd, for that proud andhandsome young matron had flushed brightly at first, lips compressedand almost stern; and her courtesy had been none too supple either. 

Then in a stupid way I went forward to make my compliments and bend lowover the little hand; and as I recovered myself I found her eyes on mefor the first time--and for a brief second they lingered, soft andwonderful, sweet, tender, wistful. But the next moment they were clearand brilliant again with controlled excitement, as Mrs. Bleeckerstepped forward, putting out both hands impulsively. Afterward she saidto me:

"It was her eyes, and the look she gave you, Euan, that convinced me. "

But now, to Lois, she said very sweetly:

"I am certain that we are to become friends if you wish it as much as Ido. "

Lois laid her hands in hers. 

"I do wish it, " she said. 

"Then the happy accomplishment is easy, " said Mrs. Bleecker, smiling. "I had expected to yield to you very readily my interest and sympathy, but I had scarce expected to yield my heart to you at our firstmeeting. "

Lois stood mute, the smile still stamped on her lips. Suddenly thetears sprang to her eyes, and she turned away hastily; and Mrs. Bleecker's arm went 'round her waist. 

They walked into the house together, and I, still dazed and mazed withthe enchanted revelation of her new loveliness, wandered about amongthe charred stumps, my thoughts a heavenly chaos, as though a millionangels were singing in my ears. I could even have seen them, save for awondrous rosy mist that rolled around them. 

How long I wandered I do not know, but presently the door opened, andLois beckoned me, and I went in to find Mrs. Bleecker down on her kneeson the puncheon floor, among the mass of pretty finery overflowing fromthe box. 

"Did Mr. Hake's selection please you?" I asked, "Oh, Euan, how can Imake you understand! Everything is too beautiful to be real, and I amcertain that a dreadful Cinderella awakening is in store for me. "

"Yes--but she wore the slipper in the end. "

Lois gave me a shy, sweet look, then, suddenly animated, turned eagerlyonce more to discuss her wardrobe with her new friend. 

"Your Mr. Hake has excellent taste, Euan, " observed Mrs. Bleecker. "Or, " she added laughingly, "perhaps your late prayer helped. " And toLois she said mischievously: "You know, my dear, that Mr. Loskiel wasaccustomed to petition God very earnestly that your wardrobe shouldplease you. "

Lois looked at me, the smile curving her lips into a happy tenderness. 

"He is so wonderful, " she said, with no embarrassment. And I saw Mrs. Bleecker look up at her, then smilingly at me, with the slightestpossible nod of approbation. 

For two hours and more that pair of women remained happy among theribbons and laces; and every separate article Lois brought to menaively, for me to share her pleasure. And once or twice I saw Mrs. Bleecker watching us intently; and when discovered she only laughed, but with such sweetness and good will that it left me happy andreassured. 

"We have arranged that Miss de Contrecoeur is to share my room with meat Croghan's, " said Mrs. Bleecker. "And, Euan, I think you should senda wagon for her box at once. The distance is short; we will stroll hometogether. "

I took my leave of them, contented, and walked back to the fort alone, my heart full of thankfulness for what God had done for her that day. 

CHAPTER X

IN GARRISON

The end of the month was approaching, and as yet we had received nomarching orders, although every evening the heavy-laden batteauxcontinued to arrive from Albany, and every morning the slow wagon trainleft for the lake, escorted by details from Schott's irregulars, andFranklin's Wyoming militia. 

But our veteran rifle battalion did not stir, although all the otherregular regiments had marched to Otsego; and Colonel Gansevoort's 3rdN. Y. Regiment of the Line, which was now under orders to remain andguard the Valley, had not yet returned, although early in the week anOneida runner had come in with letters for Mrs. Bleecker and Mrs. Lansing from their husbands, saying that the regiment was on its way tothe fort, and that they, the ladies, should continue at Croghan's aslong as Morgan's Rifles were remaining there in garrison. 

Cooler weather had set in with an occasional day of heavy summer rain;and now our garrison life became exceedingly comfortable, especiallyagreeable because of the ladies' hospitality at Croghan's new house. 

Except for Lois and for them my duties on special detail would havebecome most irksome to me, shut off from the regiment as I was, withonly the Mohican to keep an eye on, and nothing else whatever to doexcept to write at sundown every evening in my daily journal. 

Not that I had not come to care a great deal for the Siwanois; indeed, I was gradually becoming conscious of a very genuine affection for thistall Mohican, who, in the calm confidence of our blood-brotherhood, wasdaily revealing his personality to me in a hundred naive and differentways, and with a simplicity that alternately touched and amused me. 

For, after his own beliefs and his own customs, he was every inch aman--courteous, considerate, proud, generous, loyal, and brave. Whichseem to me to be the general qualifications for a gentleman. 

Except the Seneca Mountain Snakes, the nations of the Long House, considering their beliefs, customs, and limited opportunities, were nota whit inferior to us as men. And the Mohicans have always been theirpeers. 

For, contrary to the general and ignorant belief, except for theSenecas, the Iroquois were civilised people; their Empire had moremoral reasons for its existence than any other empire I ever heard of;because the League which bound these nations into a confederacy, andwhich was called by them "The Great Peace, " had been established, notfor the purpose of waging war, but to prevent it. 

Until men of my own blood and colour had taught them treachery andferocity and deceit, they had been, as a confederacy, guiltless ofthese things. Before the advent of the white man, a lie among theIroquois was punished by death; also, among them, unchastity wasscarcely known so rare was it. Even now, that brutal form of violencetoward women, white or red, either in time of war or peace, wasabsolutely non-existent. No captive woman needed to fear that. Only thepainted Tories--the blue-eyed Indians--remained to teach the Iroquoisthat such wickedness existed. For, as they said of themselves, thePeople of the Morning were "real men. "

They had a federal constitution; they had civil and politicalceremonies as wisely conceived and as dignified as they wereimpressive, romantic, and beautiful. Their literature, historical andimaginative, was handed down from generation to generation; and ifmemory were at fault, there were the wampum belts in their archives tocorroborate tradition. 

Their federal, national, tribal, sept, and clan systems were devisedsolely to prevent international decadence and fraternal strife; theirsecret societies were not sinister; their festivals and dances notimmodest; their priesthood not ignoble. They were sedentary andmetropolitan people--dwellers in towns--not nomads; they had cattle andfowls, orchards and grain-fields, gardens for vegetables, corrals forbreeding stock. They had many towns--some even of two hundred houses, of which dwellings many were cellared, framed, and glazed. 

They had their well-built and heavily stockaded forts which, becausethe first Frenchmen called them chateaux, were still known to us as"castles. "

Their family life was, typically, irreproachable; they were tender andindulgent husbands and fathers, charitable neighbours, gay andgood-humoured among their friends; and their women were deferred to, respected, and honoured, and had a distinct and important role to playin the social and political practices of the Confederacy. 

If they, by necessity, were compelled to decimate the Eries, crush theHurons, and subdue the Lenape and "make women of them, " the latter termmeant only that the Lenape could not be trusted to bear arms as allies. 

Yet, with truest consideration and courtesy toward these conqueredones, and with a kindly desire to disguise and mitigate a necessary andhumiliating restriction, the Iroquois had recognised their priesthoodand their clans; had invested the Lenape with the fire-rights atFederal Councils; and had even devised for them a diplomatic role. Theywere henceforward the ambassadors of the Confederacy, the diplomats andpolitical envoys of the Long House. 

And if the Delawares never forgot or forgave their position as asubject nation, yet had the Iroquois done all they dared to soften anominal servitude which they believed was vitally necessary to thepeace and well-being of the entire Iroquois Confederacy. 

Of this kind of people, then, were the Iroquois, naturally--not, alas, wholly so after the white man had drugged them with rum, cheated them, massacred them, taught them every vice, inoculated them with everydisease. 

For I must bear witness to the truth of this, spite of the incredulityof my own countrymen; and, moreover, it is true that the Mohicans were, in all virtuous and noble things, the peers of the civilised people ofthe Long House. 

Those vile, horse-riding, murdering, thieving nomad Indians of theplains--those homeless, wandering, plundering violators of women andbutchers of children, had nothing whatever in common with our forestIndians of the East--were a totally different race of people, mentally, spiritually, and physically. And these two species must ever remaindistinct--the Gens des Prairies and the Gens du Bois. 

Only the Senecas resembled the degraded robbers of the Western plainsin having naturally evil and debased propensities, and entertainingsimilar gross and monstrous customs and most wicked superstitions. Butin the Long House the Senecas were really aliens; every nation feltthis, from the Canienga and Oneida peoples, whose skin was almost aswhite as our own, to the dusky Onondaga, Tuscarora, and Cayuga--darkerpeople, but no less civilised than the tall, stalwart, and handsomekeepers of the Eastern Gate. 

I have ventured to say this much concerning the Iroquois so that it maybetter be understood among my own countrymen how it was possible forme, a white man of unmixed blood, to love and respect a red man ofblood as pure and unmixed as mine. A dog-trader learns many thingsabout dogs by dealing in them; an interpreter who deals with men never, ultimately, mistakes a real man, white or red. 

My isolation from the regiment, as I say, was now more than compensatedby the presence of the ladies at Croghan's house. And Lois had now beenlodged with them for more than a week. How much of her sad history Mrs. Bleecker had seen fit to impart to Lana Helmer and Angelina Lansing Idid not know. But it seemed to be generally understood in the garrisonthat Lois had arrived from Albany on Mrs. Bleecker's invitation, andthat the girl was to remain permanently under her protection. 

The romantic fact that Lois was the orphan of white captives to theSenecas, and had living neither kith nor kin, impressed Angelinasentimentally, and Lana with an insatiable curiosity, if not withsuspicion. 

As for Boyd, he had not recognised her at all, in her powder, patches, and pretty gowns. That was perfectly plain to Lois and to me. And Icould understand it, too, for I hardly recognised her myself. And afterthe novelty of meeting her had worn off he paid her no particularattention--no doubt because of his headlong, impatient, and undisguisedinfatuation for Lana, which, with her own propensity for daringindiscretion, embarrassed us all more or less. 

No warrant had been given me to interfere; I was on no such intimateterms with Boyd; and as for Lana, she heeded Mrs. Bleecker's cautioussermons as lightly as a bluebird, drifting, heeds the soft air thatthrills with his careless flight-song. 

What officers there were, regular and militia, who had not yet gone toOtsego Lake, came frequently to Croghan's to pay their respects; andevery afternoon there were most agreeable parties at Croghan's; nor wasour merriment any less restrained for our lack of chairs and tables andcrockery to contain the cakes and nougats, syllabubs and custards, thatthe black wench, Gusta, contrived for us. Neither were there glassessufficient to hold the sweet native wines, or enough cups to give eacha dish of the rare tea which had come from France, and which Mr. Hakehad sent to me from Albany, the thoughtful soul!

If I did not entirely realise it at the time, nevertheless it was avery happy week for me. To see Lois at last where she belonged; to seeher welcomed, respected, and admired by the ladies and gentlemen atCroghan's--courted, flattered, sought after in a company sorespectable, and so naturally and sweetly holding her own among themwithout timidity or effort, was to me a pleasure so wonderful that eventhe quick, light shafts of jealousy--which ignoble but fiery darts wereever buzzing about my ass's ears, sometimes stinging me--could notfatally wound my satisfaction or my deep thankfulness that her dreadfuland wretched trials were ended at last, after so many years. 

What seemed to Angelina and Lana an exceedingly quick intimacy betweenLois and me sentimentally interested the former, and, as I have said, aroused the mischievous, yet not unkindly, curiosity of the latter. Like all people who are deep in intrigue themselves, any hint of it inothers excited her sophisticated curiosity. So when we concluded itmight be safe to call each other Lois and Euan, Lana's curiosity leapedover all bounds to the barriers of impertinence. 

There was, as usual, a respectable company gathered at Croghan's thatafternoon; and a floating-island and tea and a punch. Lois, in herusual corner by the northern window, was so beset and surrounded byofficers of ours, and Schott's, Franklin's, and Spalding's, andstaff-officers halted for the day, that I had quite despaired of a wordwith her for the present; and had somewhat sulkily seated myself on thestairs to bide my time. What between love, jealousy, and hurt pridethat she had not instantly left her irksome poppinjays at the meresight of me, and flown to me under the noses of them all, I was in twominds whether I would remain in the house or no--so absurd and horridlyunbalanced is a young man's mind when love begins meddling with andreadjusting its accustomed mechanism. Long, long were my ears in thosefirst days of my heart's undoing!

Solemnly brooding on woman's coldness, fickleness, and generalingratitude, and silently hating every gallant who crowded about her tohold her cup, her fan, her plate, pick up her handkerchief or a budfallen from her corsage, I could not, however, for the life of me keepmy eyes from the cold-blooded little jilt. 

She had evidently been out walking before I arrived, for she still woreher coquette garden-hat--the chipstraw affair, with the lilac ribbonstied in a bow under her rounded chin; and a white, thin gown, mostravishing, and all bestrewn with sprigs and posies, which displayed hersmooth and delicately moulded throat above the low-pinned kerchief, andher lovely arms from the creamy elbow lace down to her finger tips. 

The French hair-powder she wore was not sprinkled in any vulgarprofusion; it merely frosted the rich curls, making her pink checkspinker and her grey eyes a darker and purpler grey, and rendering herlips fresh and dewy in vivid contrast. And she wore a patch on hersmooth left cheek-bone. And it was a most deadly thing to do, causingme a sentimental anguish unspeakable. 

As I sat there worshipping, enchanted, resentful, martyred, alternatelyaching with loneliness and devotion, and at the same time heartilydetesting every man on whom she chanced to smile, comes a sly andfragrant breath in my ear. And, turning, I discover Lana perched on astep of the stairs above me, her mocking eyes brilliant with unkinddelight. 

"Poor swain a-sighing!" said she. "Love is sure a thorny way, Euan. "

"Have a care for your own skirts then, " said I ungraciously. 

"My skirts!"

"Yours, Lanette. Your petticoat needs mending now. "

"If love no more than rend my petticoat I ought to be content, " shesaid coolly. 

Silenced by her effrontery, which truly passed all bounds, I merelyglared at her, and presently she laughed outright. 

"Broad-brim, " said she, "I was not born yesterday. Have no worriesconcerning me, but look to yourself, for I think you have been sorelyhit at last. And God knows such wounds go hard with a truly worthy andgood young man. "

"I make nothing of your nonsense, " said I coldly. 

"What? Nothing? And yonder sits its pretty and romantic inspiration? Iam glad I have lived to see the maid who dealt you your first wound!"

"Do you fancy that I am in love?" said I defiantly. 

"Why not admit what your lop-ears and moony mien yell aloud to theworld entire?"

"Have you no common sense, Lana? Do you imagine a man can fall in lovein a brief week?"

"I have been wondering, " said she coolly, "whether you have ever beforeseen her. "

"Continue to wonder, " said I bluntly. 

"I do. .. . Because you call her 'Lois' so readily--and you came near itthe first day you had apparently set eyes on her. Also, she calls you'Euan' with a tripping lack of hesitation--even with a certain naturaltenderness--"

I turned on her, exasperated:

"Come, " said I, controlling my temper with difficulty, "I am tired ofplaying butt to your silly arrows. "

"Oh, how you squirm, Euan! Cupid and I are shooting you full as aporcupine!"

"If Cupid is truly shooting, " said I with malice, "you had best huntcover, Lana. For I think already a spent shaft or two has bruised you, flying at hazard from his bow. "

She smilingly ignored what I had said. 

"Tell me, " she persisted, "are you not at her pretty feet already? Isnot your very soul down on its worthy marrow-bones before this girl?"

"Is not every gallant gentleman who comes to Croghan's at the feet ofMiss de Contrecoeur?"

"One or two are in the neighbourhood of my feet, " she remarked. 

"Aye, and too near to please me, " said I. 

"Who, for example?"

"Boyd--for example, " I replied, giving her a hearty scowl. 

"Oh!" she drawled airily. "He is not yet near enough my ankles toplease me. "

"You little fool, " said I between my teeth, "do you think you can playalley-taw and cat's-cradle with a man like that?"

Then a cold temper flashed in her eyes. 

"A man like that, " she repeated. "And pray, dear friend, what manner ofman may be 'a man like that?'"

"One who can over-match you at your own silly sport--and carry the gameto its sinister finish! I warn you, have a care of yourself, Lanette. Sir John is a tyro to this man. "

She said hotly: "If I should say to him what you have but now said tome, he would have you out for your impertinence!"

"If he continues to conduct as he has begun, " said I, "the chances arethat I may have him out for his effrontery. "

"What! Who gave you the privilege of interfering in my affairs, yousilly ninny?"

"So that you display ordinary prudence, I have no desire to interfere, "I retorted angrily. 

"And if I do not! If I am imprudent! If I choose to be audacious, reckless, shameless! Is it your affair?"

"Suppose I make it mine?"

"You are both silly and insulting; do you know it?"

Flushed, breathing rapidly, we sat facing each other; and I could haveshaken the little vixen, so furious was I at myself as well as at her. 

"Very well, " said I, "continue to play with hell-fire if you like. I'mdone with you and with him, too. "

"And I with you, " she said between her teeth. "And if you were not thehonest-meaning marplot that you are, Mr. Boyd should teach you alesson!"

"I'll teach him one now, " said I, springing to my feet and gone quiteblind with rage so that I was obliged to stand still a moment before Icould discover Boyd where he stood by the open door, trying to conversewith Mrs. Lansing, but watching us both with unfeigned amazement. 

"Euan!"

Lana's voice arrested me, and I halted and turned, striving to rememberdecency and that I was conducting like a very boor. This was neitherthe time nor place to force a quarrel on any man. .. . And Lana wasright. I had no earthly warrant to interfere if she gave me none;perhaps no spiritual warrant either. 

Still shaken and confused by the sudden fury which had invaded me, andnow sullenly mortified by my own violence and bad manners, I stood withone hand resting on the banisters, forcing myself to look at Lana andtake the punishment that her scornful eyes were dealing me. 

"Are you coming to your senses?" she asked coldly. 

"Yes, " I said. "I ask your pardon. "

A moment more we gazed at each other, then suddenly her under liptrembled and her eyes filled. 

"Forgive me, " she stammered. "You are a better friend to methan--many. .. . I am not angry, Euan. "

At that I could scarce control my own voice:

"Lanette--little Lana! Find it in your generous heart to offer me mypardon, for I have conducted like a yokel and a fool! But--but I reallydo love you. "

"I know it, Euan. I did not know it was in me to use you so cruelly. Let us be friends again. Will you?"

"Will you, Lana?"

"Willingly--oh, with all my heart! And--I am not very happy, Euan. Bearwith me a little. .. . There is a letter come from Clarissa; perhaps itis that which edges my tongue and temper--the poor child is so sad andlonely, so wretchedly unhappy--and Sir John riding the West with allhis hellish crew! And she has no news of him--and asks it of me----"

She descended a step and stood on the stair beside me, looking up at mevery sweetly, and resting her hand lightly on my shoulder--a caress sofrank and unconcealed that it meant no more then its innocentsignificance implied. But at that moment, by chance, I encounteredLois's eyes fixed on me in cold surprise. And, being a fool, andalready unnerved, I turned red as a pippin, as though I were guilty, and looked elsewhere till the heat cooled from my cheeks. 

"You dear boy, " said Lana gently. "If there were more men like you andfewer like--Sir John, there'd be no Clarissas in the world. " Shehesitated, then smiled audaciously. "Perhaps no Lanas either. .. . There!Go and court your sweetheart. For she gave me a look but now whichboded ill for me or for any other maid or matron who dares lay fingeron a single thrum of your rifle-shirt. "

"You are wrong, " said I. "She cares nothing for me in that manner. "

"What? How do you know, you astounding boy?"

"I know it well enough. "

Lana shot a swift and curious look straight across the room at Lois, who now did not seem to be aware of her. 

"She is beautiful. .. And--not made of marble, " said Lana softly toherself. "Good God, no! Scarcely made of marble. .. . And some man willawaken her one day. .. . And when he does he will unchain Aphroditeherself--or I guess wrong. " She turned to me smiling. "That girl yonderhas never loved. "

"Why do you think so?"

"I know it; but I can not tell you why I know it. Women divine wheremen reason; and we are oftener right than you. .. . Are you truly in lovewith her?"

"I can not speak of such things to you, " I muttered. 

"Lord! Is it as serious as that already? Is it arrived at the holy andsacred stage?"

"Lana! For heaven's sake----"

"I am not jeering; I am realising the solemn fact that you haveprogressed a certain distance in love and are arrived at a definite andwell-known milestone. .. . And I am merely wondering how far she hasprogressed--or if she has as yet journeyed any particular distance atall--or any more than set out upon the road. For the look she shot atme convinces me that she has started--in fact, has reached that turn inthe thorny path where she is less inclined to defend herself than herown possessions. You seem to be one of them. "

Boyd, who had awaited the termination of our tete-a-tete with animpatience perfectly apparent to anybody who chanced to observe him, now seemed able to endure it no longer; and as he approached us I feltLana's hand on my arm tremble slightly; but the cool smile still curvedher lips. 

She received him with a shaft of light raillery, and he laughed andretorted in kind, and then we three sauntered over to the table wherewas the floating island in a huge stone bowl of Indian ware. 

Around this, and the tea and punch, everybody was now gathering, andthere was much talking and laughing and offering of refreshment to theladies, and drinking of humourous or gallant toasts. 

I remember that Boyd, being called upon, instantly contrived someimpromptu verses amid general approbation--for his intelligence was aslithe and graceful as his body was agile. And our foppish Ensign, whowas no dolt by a long shot either, made a most deft rondeau in flatteryof the ladies, turning it so neatly and unexpectedly that we all drewour side-arms and, thrusting them aloft, cheered both him and the fairsubjects of his nimble verses. 

I would have been glad to shine in that lively and amusing competition, but possessed no such desirable talents, and so when called uponcontrived merely a commonplace toast which all applauded as in dutybound. 

And I saw Lois looking at me with an odd, smiling expression, not onething or another, yet scarcely cordial. 

"And now, " says Boyd, "each lady in turn should offer an impromptutoast in verse. "

Whereupon they all protested that the thing was impossible. But he wasalready somewhat flushed with the punch and with his own success; andsays he, with that occasional and over-flourishing bow of his:

"To divinity nothing is impossible; therefore, the ladies, ever divine, may venture all things. "

"Which is why I venture to decline, " remarked Lana. But he was set uponit, and would not be denied; and he began a most flowery little speechwith the ladies as his inspiration:

"Poetry and grace in mind and body is theirs by nature, " said he, "andthey have but to open the rosy petals of their lips to enthrall us allwith gems of----"

"Lord!" said Mrs. Bleecker, laughing, "I have never writ a verse in mylife save on my sampler; and if I were to open the rosy petals of mylips, I should never have done a-giggling. But I'll do it, Mr. Boyd, ifyou think it will enthrall you. "

"As for me, " quoth Angelina Lansing, "I require a workshop tomanufacture my gems. It follows that they are no true gems at all, butshop-made paste. Ask Lana Helmer; she is far more adept in sugaringrefusals. "

All turned smilingly toward Lana, who shrugged her shoulders, sayingcarelessly:

 "I must decline! The Muses nine No sisters are of mine. Must I repine Because I'm not divine, And may not versify some pretty story To prove to you my own immortal glory? Make no mistake. Accept; don't offer verses. Kisses received are mercies--given, curses!"

Said Boyd instantly:

"A thousand poems for your couplets! Do you trade with me, Miss Helmer?"

"Let me hear your thousand first, " retorted the coquette disdainfully, "ere I make up my mind to be damned. "

Major Parr said grimly:

"With what are we others to trade, who can make no verses? Is there notsome more common form of wampum that you might consider?"

"A kind and unselfish heart is sound currency, " said Lana smiling andturning her back on Boyd; which brought her to face Lois. 

"Do make a toast in verse for these importunate gentlemen, " she said, "and bring the last laggard to your feet. "

"I?" exclaimed Lois in laughing surprise. Then her face altered subtly. "I may not dream to rival you in beauty. Why should I challenge you inwit?"

"Why not? Your very name implies a nationality in which elegance, graceful wit, and taste are all inherent. " And she curtsied very low toLois. 

For a moment the girl stood motionless, her slender forefinger crook'din thought across her lips. Then she glanced at me; the pink spots onher cheeks deepened, and her lips parted in a breathless smile. 

"It will give me a pleasure to do honour to any wish expressed byanybody, " she said. "Am I to compose a toast, Euan?"

I gazed at her in surprise; Major Parr said loudly: "That's the properspirit!"

And, "Write for us a toast to love!" cried Boyd. 

But Lana coolly proposed a toast to please all, which, she explained, atoast to love would not by any means. 

"And surely that is easy for you, " she added sweetly, "who of yourproper self please all who ever knew you. "

"Write us a patriotic toast!" suggested Captain Simpson, "----A jollytoast that all true Americans can drink under the nose of the BritishKing himself. "

"That's it!" cried Captain Franklin. "A toast so cunningly devised thatour poor fellows in the Provost below, and on that floating hell, the'Jersey, ' may offer it boldly and unrebuked in the very teeth of theirjailors! Lord! But that would be a rare bit o' verse--if it could beaccomplished, " he added dubiously. 

Lois stood there smiling, thinking, the tint of excitement stillbrilliant in her cheeks. 

"No, I could not hope to contrive such a verse----" she mused aloud. "Yet--I might try----" She lifted her grey eyes to mine as thoughawaiting my decision. 

"Try, " said I--I don't know why, because I never dreamed she had atalent for such trifles. 

For a second, as her eyes met mine, I had the sensation of standingthere entirely alone with her. Then the clamour around us grew on myears, and the figures of the others again took shape on every side. 

And "Try!" they cried. "Try! Try!"

"Yes, " she said slowly. "I will try----" She looked up at me. "----Ifyou wish it. "

"Try, " I said. 

Very quietly she turned and passed behind the punch bowl and into thenext room, but did not close the door. And anybody could see her there, seated at the rough pine table, quill in hand, and sometimesmotionless, absorbed in her own thoughts, sometimes scratching away atthe sheet of paper under her nose with all the proper frenzy of a verypoet. 

We had emptied the punch bowl before she reappeared, holding out to methe paper which was still wet with ink. And they welcomed her lustily, glasses aloft, but I was in a cold fright for fear she had writ nothingextraordinary, and they might think meanly of her mind, which, afterall, I myself knew little of save that it was sweet and generous. 

But she seemed in no manner perturbed, waiting smilingly for the noiseto quiet. Then she said:

"This is a toast that our poor tyrant-ridden countrymen may dare tooffer at any banquet under any flag, and under the very cannon of NewYork. "

She stood still, absent-eyed, thinking for a moment; then, looking upat us:

"It is really two poems in one. If you read it straight across the pageas it is written, then does it seem to be a boastful, hateful Toryverse, vilifying all patriots, even His Excellency--God forgive thethought!

"But in the middle of every line there is a comma, splitting the lineinto two parts. And if you draw a line down through every one of thesecommas, dividing the written verse into two halves, each separate halfwill be a poem of itself, and the secret and concealed meaning of thewhole will then be apparent. "

She laid the paper in my hands; instantly everybody, a-tiptoe withcuriosity, clustered around to see. And this is what we all read--theprettiest and most cunningly devised and disguised verse that ever waswrit--or so it seems to me:

 "Hark--hark the trumpet sounds, the din of war's alarms O'er seas and solid grounds, doth call us all to arms, Who for King George doth stand, their honour soon shall shine, Their ruin is at hand, who with the Congress join. The acts of Parliament, in them I much delight, I hate their cursed intent, who for the Congress fight. The Tories of the day, they are my daily toast, They soon will sneak away, who independence boast, Who non-resistant hold, they have my hand and heart, May they for slaves be sold, who act the Whiggish part. On Mansfield, North and Bute, may daily blessings pour Confusions and dispute, on Congress evermore, To North and British lord, may honours still be done, I wish a block and cord, to General Washington. "

Then Major Parr took the paper, and raising one hand, and with astrange solemnity on his war-scarred visage, he pronounced aloud thelines of the two halves, reading first a couplet from the left handside of the dividing commas, then a couplet from the right, and so downthe double column, revealing the hidden and patriotic poem:

 "Hark--hark the trumpet sounds O'er seas and solid grounds! The din of war's alarms Doth call us all to arms! Who for King George doth stand Their ruin is at hand: Their honour soon shall shine Who with the Congress join: The acts of Parliament I hate their cursed intent! In them I much delight Who for the Congress fight. The Tories of the day They soon will sneak away: They are my daily toast Who independence boast. Who non-resistant hold May they for slaves be sold. They have my hand and heart Who act the Whiggish part. On Mansfield, North, and Bute, Confusion and dispute. May daily blessings pour On Congress evermore. To North and British lord, I wish a block and cord! May honours still be done To General Washington!"

As his ringing voice subsided, there fell a perfect silence, then avery roar of cheering filled it, and the hemlock rafters rang. And Isaw the colour fly to Lois's face like a bright ensign breaking fromits staff and opening in flower-like beauty. 

Then every one must needs drink her health and praise her skill and witand address--save I alone, who seemed to have no words for her, or evento tell myself of my astonishment at her accomplishment, somehow sounexpected. 

Yet, why might I not have expected accomplishments from such a pliantintelligence--from a young and flexible mind that had not lackedschooling, irregular as it was? Far by her own confession to me, hereducation had been obtained, while it lasted, in schools as good as anyin the land, if, indeed, all were as excellent as Mrs. Pardee's YoungLadies' Seminary in Albany, or the school kept by the Misses Primrose. 

And Major Parr, the senior officer present, must have a glass of winewith her all alone, and offer her his arm to the threshold, where Lanaand Boyd were busily plaiting a wreath of green maple-leaves for her, which they presently placed around her chip-straw hat. And we allacclaimed her. 

As for Major Parr, that campaign-battered veteran had out his tabletsand was painfully copying the verses--he being no scholar--while Boydread them aloud to us all again in most excellent taste, and Loislaughed and blushed, protesting that her modest effort was not worthysuch consideration. 

"Egad!" said Major Parr loudly. "I maintain that verses such as theseare worth a veteran battalion to any army on earth! You are an aid, anhonour, and an inspiration to your country, Miss de Contrecoeur, and Ishall take care that His Excellency receives a copy of these sameverses----"

"Oh, Major Parr!" she protested in dismay. "I should perish with shameif His Excellency were to be so beset by every sorry scribbler. "

"A copy for His Excellency! Hurrah!" cried Captain Simpson. "Whovolunteers?"

"I will make it, " said I, with jealous authority. 

"And I will aid you with quill, sand, and paper, " said Lana. "Come withme, Euan. "

Lois, who had at first smiled at me, now looked at us both, while thesmile stiffened on her flushed face as Lana caught me by the hand anddrew me toward the other room where the pine camp-table stood. 

While I was writing in my clear and painstaking chirography, which Itry not to take a too great pride in because of its fine shading andskillful flourishes, the guests of the afternoon were making theiradieux and taking their departure, some afoot, others on horseback. 

When I had finished my copy and had returned to the main room, nothingremained of the afternoon party save Boyd and Lana, whispering togetherby a window, and the black wench, Gusta, clearing away the debris ofthe afternoon. 

Outside in the late sunshine, I could see Mrs. Bleecker and Mrs. Lansing strolling to and fro, arm in arm, but I looked around in vainfor Lois. 

"She is doubtless gone a-boating with her elegant senior Ensign, " saidLana sweetly, from the window. "If you run fast you may kill him yet, Euan. "

"I was looking for nobody, " said I stiffly, and marched out, riddingthem of my company--which I think was what they both desired. 

Now, among other and importunate young fops, the senior Ensign and hisfrippery and his marked attention to Lois, and his mincing butunfeigned devotion to her, had irritated me to the very verge ofmadness. 

Twice, to my proper knowledge, this fellow had had her in an Oneidacanoe, and with a guitar at that; and, damn him, he sang with taste anddiscretion. Also, when not on duty, he was ever to be found lispingcompliments into her ear, or, in cool possession of her arm, promenading her to flaunt her beauty--and his good fortune--before theentire fort. And I had had enough of it. 

So when I learned that she was off again with him, such a rage andwretchedness possessed me that I knew not what to do. Common senseyelled in my ear that no man of that stripe could seriously impressher; but where is the understanding in a very young man so violentlysick with love as was I? All men who approached her I instantlysuspected and mentally damned--even honest old Simpson--aye, even MajorParr himself. And I wonder now I had not done something to invitecourt-martial. For my common sense had been abruptly and completelyupset, and I was at that period in a truly unhappy and contemptibleplight. 

I could not seem to steer my footsteps clear of the river bank, nordeny myself the fierce and melancholy pleasure of gazing at their canoefrom afar, so I finally walked in that direction, cursing my ownweakness and meditating quarrels and fatal duels. 

But when I arrived on the river bank, I could not discover her in anyof the canoes that danced in the rosy ripples of the declining sun. So, mooning and miserable, I lagged along the bank toward my bush-hut; andpresently, to my sudden surprise, discovered the very lady of whom Ihad been thinking so intently--not dogged as usual by that insufferableEnsign, but in earnest conversation with the Sagamore. 

And, as I gazed at them outlined against the evening sky, I rememberedwhat Betsy Hunt had said at Poundridge--how she had encountered themtogether on the hill which overlooked the Sound. 

Long before I reached them or they had discovered me, the Sagamoreturned and took his departure, with a dignified gesture of refusal; andLois looked after him for a moment, her hand to her cheek, then turnedand gazed straight into the smouldering West, where, stretching awayunder its million giant pines, the vast empire of the Long House lay, slowly darkening against the crimson sunset. 

She did not notice me as I came toward her through the waving Indiangrass, and even when I spoke her name she did not seem startled, butturned very deliberately, her eyes still reflecting the broodingthoughts that immersed her. 

"What is it that you and this Mohican have still to say to each other?"I asked apprehensively. 

The vague expression of her features changed; she answered withheightened colour:

"The Sagamore is my friend as well as yours. Is it strange that Ishould speak with him when it pleases me to do so?"

There was an indirectness in her gaze, as well as in her reply, thattroubled me, but I said amiably:

"What has become of your mincing escort? Is he gone to secure a canoe?"

"He is on duty and gone to the fort. "

"Where he belongs, " I growled, "and not eternally at your heels. "

She raised her eyes and looked at me curiously. 

"Are you jealous?" she demanded, beginning to smile; then, suddenly thesmile vanished and she shot at me a darker look, and stood consideringme with lips slightly compressed, hostile and beautiful. 

"As for that fop of an Ensign----" I began--but she took the word frommy mouth:

"A fiddle-stick! It is I who have cause to complain of you, not you ofme! You throw dust in my eyes by accusing where you should standotherwise accused. And you know it!"

"I? Accused of what?"

"If you don't know, then I need not humiliate myself to inform you. ButI think you do know, for you looked guilty enough----"

"Guilty of what?"

"Of what? I don't know what you may be guilty of. But you sat on thestairs with your simpering inamorata--and your courtship quarrels andyour tender reconciliations were plain enough to--to sicken anybody----"

"Lois! That is no proper way to speak of----"

"It is your own affair--and hers! I ask your pardon--but she flauntedher intimacy with you so openly and indiscreetly----"

"There is no common sense in what you say!" I exclaimed angrily. "IfI----"

"Was she not ever drowning her very soul in your sheep's eyes? And evennot scrupling to shamelessly caress you in the face of all----"

"Caress me!"

"Did she not stand for ten full minutes with her hand upon yourshoulder, and a-sighing and simpering----"

"That was no caress! It was full innocent and----"

"Is she so innocent? Indeed! I had scarcely thought it of her, " shesaid disdainfully. 

"She is a true, good girl, innocent of any evil intentionwhatsoever----"

"I pray you, Euan, spare me your excited rhapsodies. If you prefer thismost bewitching--minx----"

"She is no minx!" I retorted hotly; and Lois as hotly faced me, pink toher ears with exasperation. 

"You do favour her! You do! You do! Say what you will, you are everlistening for the flutter of her petticoats on the stairs, ever at herFrench heels, ever at moony gaze with her--and a scant inch betwixtyour noses! So that you come not again to me vowing what you have vowedto me--I care not how you and she conduct----"

"I do prefer you!" I cried, furious to be so misconstrued. "I love onlyone, and that one is you!"

"Oh, Euan, yours is a most broad and catholic heart; and any prettypenitent can find her refuge there; and any petticoat can flutter it!"

"Yours can. Even your fluttering rags did that!"

She flushed: "Oh, if I were truly weak and silly enough to listen toyou----"

"You never do. You give me no hope. "

"I do give you hope! I am ever ladling it out to you as they ladlesoupaan to the militia! I say to you continually that never have I sodevotedly loved any man----"

"That is not love!" I said, furious. 

"I do not pretend it to be that same boiling and sputtering sentimentwhich men call love----"

"Then if it be not true love, why do you care what I whisper to anywoman?"

"I do not care, " she said, biting the rose-leaf lower lip. "You maywhisper any treason you please to any h-heartless woman who snares yourf-fancy. "

"You do not truly care?"

"I have said it. No, I do not care! Court whom you please! But if youdo, my faith in man is dead, and that's flat!"

"What!"

"Certainly. .. . After your burning vows so lately made to me. But menhave no shame. I know that much. "

"But, " said I, bewildered, "you say that you care nothing for my vows!"

"Did I say so?"

"Yes--you----"

"No, I did not say so!. .. I--I love your vows. "

"How can you love my vows and not me?" I demanded angrily. 

"I don't know I can do it, but I do. .. . But I will love them no longerif you make the selfsame vows to her. "

"Now, " said I, perplexed and exasperated, "what does it profit a manwhen a maid confesses that she loves to hear his vows, but loves nothim who makes them?"

"For me to love even your vows, " said she, looking at me sideways, "issomething gained for you--or so it seems to me. And were I minded toplay the coquette--as some do----"

"You play it every minute!"

"I? When, pray?"

"When I came to Croghan's this afternoon there were you the centre of'em all; and one ass in boots and spurs to wave your fan for you--oh, la! And another of Franklin's, in his Wyandotte finery, to fetch andcarry; and a dozen more young fools all ogling and sighing at yourfeet----"

Her lips parted in a quick, nervous laugh:

"Was that the way I seemed? Truly, Euan? Were you jealous? And I scarceheeding one o' them, but my eyes on the doorway, watching for you!"

"Oh, Lois! How can you say that to me----"

"Because it was so! Why did you not come to me at once? I was waiting!"

"There were so many--and you seemed so gay with them--so careless--noteven glancing at me----"

"I saw you none the less. I never let you escape the range of myvision. "

"I never dreamed you noticed me. And every time you smiled on one ofthem I grew the gloomier----"

"And what does my gaiety mean--save that the source of happiness liesrooted in you? What do other men count, only that in their admiration Iread some recompense for you, who made me admirable. These gowns I wearare yours--these shoon and buckles and silken stockings--these bows oflace and furbelows--this little patch making my rose cheeksrosier--this frost of powder on my hair! All these I wear, Euan, sothat man's delight in me may do you honour. All I am to please them--mygaiety, my small wit, which makes for them crude verses, my modesty, mydecorum, my mind and person, which seem not unacceptable to arespectable society--all these are but dormant qualities that you haveawakened and inspired----"

She broke off short, tears filling her eyes:

"Of what am I made, then, if my first and dearest and deepest thoughtbe not for you? And such a man as this is jealous!"

I caught her hands, but she bent swiftly and laid her hot cheek for aninstant against my hand which held them. 

"If there is in me a Cinderella, " she said unsteadily, "it is you whohave discovered it--liberated it--and who have willed that it shalllive. Did you suppose that it was in me to make those verses unless youtold me that I could do it? You said, 'Try, ' and instantly I daredtry. .. . Is that not something to stir your pride? A girl as absolutelyyours as that? And do not the lesser and commonplace emotions seemtrivial in comparison--all the heats and passions and sentimentalvapours--the sighs and vows and languishing all the inevitabletrappings and masqueradings which bedizzen what men know as love--dothey not all seem mean and petty compared to our deep, sweet knowledgeof each other?"

"You are wonderful, " I said humbly. "But love is no unreal, unworthything, either; no sham, no trite cut-and-dried convention, made sillyby sighs and vapours. 

"Oh, Euan, it is! I am so much more to you in my soul than if I merelyloved you. You are so much more to me--the very well-spring of mydesire and pride--my reason for pleasing, my happy consolation and mygratitude. .. . Seat yourself here on the pleasant, scented grasses andlet me endeavour to explain it once and for all time. Will you?

"It is this, " she continued, taking my hand between hers, when we wereseated, and examining it very intently, as though the screed sherecited were written there on my palm. "We are so marvelously matchedin every measurement and feature, mental and bodily almost--and I am sotruly becoming a vital part of you and you of me, that the miracle istoo perfect, too lofty, too serenely complete to vex it with the lessermagic--the passions and the various petty vexations they entail. 

"For I would become--to honour you--all that your pride would have me. I would please the world for your sake, conquer it both with mind andperson. And you must endeavour to better yourself, day by day, noblyand with high aim, so that the source of my inspiration remain everpure and fresh, and I attain to heights unthinkable save for your faithin me and mine in you. "

She smiled at me, and I said:

"Aye; but to what end?"

"To what end, Euan? Why, for our spiritual and worldly profit. "

"Yes, but I love you----"

"No, no! Not in that manner----"

"But it is so. "

"No, it is not! We are to be above mere sentiment. Reason rules us. "

"Are we not to wed?"

"Oh--as for that----" She thought for a while, closely considering mypalm. "Yes--that might some day be a part of it. .. . When we haveattained to every honour and consideration, and our thoughts anddesires are purged and lifted to serene and lofty heights ofcontemplation. Then it would be natural for us to marry, I suppose. "

"Meanwhile, " said I, "youth flies; and I may not lay a finger on you tocaress you. "

"Not to caress me--as that woman did to you----"

"Lois!"

"I can not help it. There is in her--in all such women--a sly, smooth, sleek and graceful beast, ever seeming to invite or offer a caress----"

"She is sweet and womanly; a warm friend of many years. "

"Oh! And am I not--womanly?"

"Are you, entirely?"

She looked at me troubled:

"How would you have me be more womanly?"

"Be less a comrade, more a sweetheart. "

"Familiar?"

My heart was beating fast:

"Familiar to my arms. I love you. "

"I--do not permit myself to desire your arms. Can I help saying so--ifyou ask me?"

"When I love you so----"

"No. Why are you, after all, like other men, when I once hoped----"

"Other men love. All men love. How can I be different----"

"You are more finely made. You comprehend higher thoughts. You cancommand your lesser passions. "

"You say that very lightly, who have no need to command yours!"

"How do you know?" she said in a low voice. 

"Because you have none to curb--else you could better understand thegreater ones. "

She sat with head lowered, playing with a blade of grass. After a whileshe looked up at me, a trifle confused. 

"Until I knew you, I entertained but one living passion--to find mymother and hold her in my arms--and have of her all that I had achedfor through many empty and loveless years. Since I have known you thatdesire has never changed. She is my living passion, and my need. "

She bent her head again and sat playing with the scented grasses. Then, half to herself, she said:

"I think I am still loyal to her if I have placed you beside her in myheart. For I have not yet invested you with a passion less innocentthan that which burns for her. "

She lifted her head slowly, propping herself up on one arm, and lookedintently at me. 

"What do you know about me, that you say I am unwomanly and cold?" Hervoice was low, but the words rang a little. 

"Do not deceive yourself, " she said. "I am fashioned for love asthoroughly as are you--for love sacred or profane. But who am I to dareput on my crown of womanhood? Let me first know myself--let me knowwhat I am, and if I truly have even a right to the very name I wear. Let me see my own mother face to face--hold her first of all in myembrace--give my lips first to her, yield to her my first caresses. .. . Else, " and her face paled, "I do not know what I might become--I do notknow, I tell you--having been all my life deprived of intimacy--neverhaving known familiar kindness or its lightest caress--and half deadsometimes of the need of it!"

She straightened up, clenching her hands, then smiled her breathlesslittle smile. 

"Think of it, Euan! For twenty years I have wanted her caresses--orsuch harmless kindness of somebody--almost of anybody! My foster-mothernever kissed me, never put her arm about me--or even laid her handlightly upon my shoulder--as did that girl do to you on the stairs. .. . I tell you, to see her do it went through me like a Shawanese arrow----"

She forced a mirthless smile, and clasped her fingers across her knee:

"So bitterly have I missed affection all my life, " she added calmly. ". .. And now you come into my life! Why, Euan--and my sentiments weretruly pure and blameless when you were there that night with me on therock under the clustered stars--and I left for you a rose--and my heartwith it!--so dear and welcome was your sudden presence that I couldhave let you fold me in your arms, and so fallen asleep beside you, Iwas that deathly weary of my solitude and ragged isolation. "

She made a listless gesture:

"It is too late for us to yield to demonstration of your affection now, anyway--not until I find myself safe in the arms that bore me first. God knows how deeply it would affect me if you conquered me, or what Iwould do for very gratitude and happiness under the first closecaress. .. . Stir not anything of that in me, Euan. Let me not even dreamof it. It were not well for me--not well for me. For whether I love youas I do, or--otherwise and less purely--it would be all the same--and Ishould become--something--which I am not--wedded or otherwise--not myfree self, but to my lesser self a slave, without ambition, pride--wavering in that fixed resolve which has brought me hither. .. . And I should live and die your lesser satellite, unhappy to the veryend. "

After a silence, I said heavily:

"Then you have not renounced your purpose?"

"No. "

"You still desire to go to Catharines-town?"

"I must go. "

"That was the burden of your conversation with the Sagamore but now?"

"Yes. "

"He refused to aid you?"

"He refused. "

"Why, then, are you not content to wait here--or at Albany?"

She sat for a long while with head lowered, then, looking up quietly:

"Another pair of moccasins was left outside my door last night. "

"What! At Croghan's? Inside our line!" I exclaimed incredulously. 

"Aye. But this time the message sewed within them differed from all theothers. And on the shred of bark was written: 'Swift moccasins forlittle feet as swift. The long trail opens. Come!'"

"You think your mother wrote it?" I asked, astounded. 

"Yes. .. . She wrote the others. "

"Well?"

"This writing is the same. "

"The same hand that wrote the other messages throughout the years?"

"The same. "

"Have you told the Sagamore of this?"

"I told him but now--and for the first time. "

"You told him everything?"

"Yes--concerning my first finding--and the messages that came everyyear with the moccasins. "

"And did you show him the Indian writing also?"

"Yes. "

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. But there flashed up suddenly in his eyes a reddish lightthat frightened me, and his face became so hideous and terrible that Icould have cried out. But I contrived to maintain my composure, and Isaid: 'What do you make of it, O Sagamore?' And he spat out a word Idid not clearly understand----"

"Amochol?"

"Yes--it sounded like that. What did he mean, Euan?"

"I will presently ask him, " said I, thoroughly alarmed. "And in themeanwhile, you must now be persuaded to remain at this post. You arecontented and happy here. When we march, you will go back toSchenectady or to Albany with the ladies of the garrison, and waitthere some word of our fate. 

"If we win through, I swear to you that if your mother be there inCatharines-town I will bring news of her, or, God willing, bring herherself to you. "

I rose and aided her to stand; and her hands remained limply in mine. 

"I had rather take you from her arms, " I said in a low voice, "----ifyou ever deign to give yourself to me. "

"That is sweetly said. .. . Such giving leaves the giver unashamed. "

"Could you promise yourself to me?"

She stood with head averted, watching the last faint stain of colorfade from the west. 

"Would you have me at any cost, Euan?"

"Any cost. "

"Suppose that when I find my mother--I find no name for myself--savehers?"

"You shall have mine then. "

"Dear lad!. .. But--suppose, even then I do not love you--as men meanlove. "

"So that you love no other man, I should still want you. "

"Am I then so vital to you?"

"Utterly. "

"To how many other women have you spoken thus?" she asked gravely. 

"To none. "

"Truly?"

"Truly, Lois. "

She said in a low voice:

"Other men have said it to me. .. . I have heard them swear it with tearsin their eyes and calling God to witness. And I knew all the while thatthey were lying--perjuring their souls for the sake of a ragged, unripejade, and a wild night's frolic. .. . Well--God made men. .. . I knowmyself, too. .. . To love you as you wish is to care less for you than Ialready do. I would not willingly. .. . Yet, I may try if you wish it. .. . So that is all the promise I dare make you. Come--take me home now--ifyou care to walk as far with me. "

"And I who am asking you to walk through life with me?" I said, forcinga laugh. 

We turned; she took my arm, and together we moved slowly back throughthe falling dusk. 

And, as we approached her door, came a sudden and furious sound ofgalloping behind us, and we sprang to the side of the road as theexpress thundered by in a storm of dust and driving pebbles. 

"News, " she whispered. "Do they bring good news as fast as bad?"

"It may mean our marching orders, " I said, dejected. 

We had now arrived at Croghan's, and she was withdrawing her arm frommine, when the hollow sound of a conch-horn went echoing and boomingthrough the dusk. 

"It does mean your marching orders!" she exclaimed, startled. 

"It most certainly means something, " said I. "Good-night--I must runfor the fort----"

"Are you going to----to leave me?"

"That horn is calling out Morgan's men----"

"Am I not to see you again?"

"Why, yes--I expect so--but if----"

"Oh! Is there an 'if'?' Euan, are you going away forever?"

"Dear maid, I don't know yet what has happened----"

"I do! You are going!. .. To your death, perhaps--for all I know----"

"Hush! And good-night----"

She held to my offered hand tightly:

"Don't go--don't go----"

"I will return and tell you if----"

"'If!' That means you will not return! I shall never see you again!"

I had flung one arm around her, and she stood with one hand clenchedagainst her lips, looking blankly into my face. 

"Good-bye, " I said, and kissed her clenched hand so violently that itslipped sideways on her cheek, bruising her lips. 

She gave a faint gasp and swayed where she stood, very white in theface. 

"I have hurt you, " I stammered; but my words were lost in a frightfuluproar bursting from the fort; and:

"God!" she whispered, cowering against me, as the horrid howlingswelled on the affrighted air. 

"It is only the Oneidas' scalp-yell, " said I. "They know the news. Their death-halloo means that the corps of guides is ordered out. Good-bye! You have means to support you now till I return. Wait for me;love me if it is in you to love such a man. Whatever the event, mydevotion will not alter. I leave you in God's keeping, dear. Good-bye. "

Her hand was still at her bruised lips; I bent forward; she moved itaside. But I kissed only her hand. 

Then I turned and ran toward the fort; and in the torch-light at thegate encountered Boyd, who said to me gleefully:

"It's you and your corps of guides! The express is from Clinton. Hanierri remains; the Sagamore goes with you; but the regiment is notmarching yet awhile. Lord help us! Listen to those beastly Oneidas intheir paint! Did you ever hear such a wolf-pack howling! Well, Loskiel, a safe and pleasant scout to you. " He offered his hand. "I'll bestrolling back to Croghan's. Fare you safely!"

"And you, " I said, not thinking, however, of him. But I thought ofLana, and wished to God that Boyd were with us on this midnight march, and Lana safe in Albany once more. 

As I entered the fort, through the smoky flare of torches, I saw DollyGlenn waiting there; and as I passed she gave a frightened exclamation. 

"Did you wish to speak to me?" I asked. 

"Is--is Lieutenant Boyd going with you?" she stammered. 

"No, child. "

She thanked me with a pitiful sort of smile, and shrank back into thedarkness. 

I remained but a few moments with Major Parr and Captain Simpson; arifleman of my own company, Harry Kent, brought me my pack andrifle--merely sufficient ammunition and a few necessaries--for we wereto travel lightly. Then Captain Simpson went away to inspect the Oneidascouts. 

"I wish you well, " said the Major quietly. "Guard the Mohican as youwould the apple of your eye, and--God go with you, Euan Loskiel. "

I saluted, turned squarely, and walked out across the parade to thepostern. Here I saw Captain Simpson inspecting the four guides, one ofwhom, to me, seemed unnecessarily burdened with hunting shirt andblanket. 

Running my eye along their file, where they stood in the uncertaintorchlight, I saw at once that the guides selected by Major Parr werenot all Oneidas. Two of them seemed to be; a third was a StockbridgeIndian; but the fourth--he with the hunting-shirt and double blanket, wore unfamiliar paint. 

"What are you?" said I in the Oneida dialect, trying to gain a squarelook at him in the shifty light. 

"Wyandotte, " he said quietly. 

"Hell!" said I, turning to Captain Simpson. "Who sends me a Wyandotte?"

"General Clinton, " replied Simpson in surprise. "The Wyandotte camefrom Fortress Pitt. Colonel Broadhead, commanding our left wing, senthim, most highly recommending him for his knowledge of the Susquehannaand Tioga. "

I took another hard look at the Wyandotte. 

"You should travel lighter, " said I. "Split that Niagara blanket androll your hunting-shirt. "

The savage looked at me a moment, then his sinewy arms flew up and hesnatched the deerskin shirt from his naked body. The next instant hisknife fairly leaped from its beaded sheath; there was a flash of steel, a ripping sound, and his blue and scarlet blanket lay divided. Half ofit he flung to a rifleman, and the other half, with his shirt, herolled and tied to his pack. 

Such zeal and obedience pleased me, and I smiled and nodded to him. Heshowed his teeth at me, which I fancied was his mode of smiling. But itwas somewhat hideous, as his nose had been broken, and the unpleasantdent in it made horridly conspicuous by a gash of blood-red paint. 

I buckled my belt and pack and picked up my rifle. Captain Simpsonshook hands with me. At the same moment, the rifleman sent to ourbush-hut to summon the Mohican returned with him. And a finer sight Inever saw; for the tall and magnificently formed Siwanois was inscarlet war-paint from crown to toe, oiled, shaven save for the lock, and crested with a single scarlet plume--and heaven knows where he gotit, for it was not dyed, but natural. 

His scarlet and white beaded sporran swung to his knees; his anklemoccasins were quilled and feathered in red and white; the Erie scalpshung from his girdle, hooped in red, and he bore only a lightpack-slung, besides his rifle and short red blanket. 

"Salute, O Sagamore! Roya-neh!" I said in a low voice, passing him. 

He smiled, then his features became utterly blank, as one by one theeyes of the other Indians flashed on his for a moment, then shiftedwarily elsewhere. 

I made a quick gesture, turned, and started, heading the file out intothe darkness. 

And as we advanced noiselessly and swung west into the Otsego road, Iwas aware of a shadow on my right--soft hands outstretched--a faintwhisper as I kissed her tightening fingers. Then I ran on to head thatpainted file once more, and for a time continued to lead at hazard, blinded with tears. 

And it was some minutes before I was conscious of the Mohican's handupon my arm, guiding my uncertain feet through the star-shot dark. 

CHAPTER XI

A SCOUT OF SIX

We were now penetrating that sad and devastated region laid waste sorecently by Brant, Butler, and McDonald, from Cobus-Kill on thepleasant river Askalege, to Minnisink on the silvery Delaware--a vastand mournful territory which had been populous and prosperous atwelvemonth since, and was now the very abomination of desolation. 

Cherry Valley lay a sunken mass of blood-wet cinders; Wyoming had goneup in a whirlwind of smoke, and the wretched Connecticut inhabitantswere dead or fled; Andrustown was now no more, Springfield, HandsomeBrook, Bowmans, Newtown-Martin--all these pretty English villages werevanished; the forest seedlings already sprouted in the blackenedcellars, and the spotted tree-cats squalled from the girdled orchardsunder the July moon. 

Where horses, cows, sheep, men, women, and children had lain dead allover the trampled fields, the tall English grass now waved, yellowingto fragrant hay; horses, barns, sheds--nay, even fences, wagons, ploughs, and haycocks had been laid in cinders. There remained not onething that could burn which had not been burned. Only breeze-stirredashes marked these silent places, with here and there a bit of ironfrom wagon or plough, rusting in the dew, or a steel button from somedead man's coat, or a bone gone chalky white--dumb witnesses that thewrath of England had passed wrapped in the lightning of Divine Right. 

But Great Britain's flaming glory had swept still farther westward, forGerman Flatts was gone except for its church and one house, which weretoo near the forts for the destructives to burn. But they had laid inashes more than a hundred humble homes, barns, and mills, and drivenoff more than a thousand cattle, horses, sheep, and oxen, leaving thebarnyard creatures dead or dying, and ten thousand skipples of grainafire. 

So it was no wonder that the provisioning of our forces at Otsego hadbeen slow, and that we now had five hundred wagons flying steadilybetween Canajoharie and the lake, to move our stores as they arrived bybatteaux from below. And there were some foolish and impatient folk inCongress, so I heard, who cried out at our delay; and one more sinisterjackass, who had said that our army would never move until a fewgenerals had been court-martialed and shot. And our Major Parr saidthat he wished to God we had the Congress with us so that for once theymight have their bellyful of stratagem and parched corn. 

But it is ever so with those home-loving and unsurpassedbutcher-generals, baker-brigadiers, candlestick-colonels, who, yawningin bed, win for us victories while we are merely planning them--and, rolling over, go to sleep with a consciousness of work well done, thecandle snuffed, and the cat locked out for the night. 

About eleven o'clock on the first night out, I halted my scout of sixand lay so, fireless, until sun-up. We were not far, then, from thehead of the lake; and when we marched at dawn next morning weencountered a company of Alden's men mending roads as usual; and latercame upon an entire Continental regiment and a company of IrregularRifles, who were marching down to the lake to try out their guns. Longafter we quitted them we heard their heavy firing, and coulddistinguish between the loud and solid "Bang!" of the muskets and thesharper, whip-lash crack of the long rifles. 

The territory that now lay before us was a dense and sunlesswilderness, save for the forest openings made by rivers, lakes, andstreams. And it was truly the enemy's own country, where he roamedunchecked except for the pickets of General Sullivan's army, which wasstill slowly concentrating at Tioga Point whither my scout of six wasnow addressed. And the last of our people that we saw was a detail ofAlden's regiment demolishing beaver dams near the lake's outlet which, they informed us, the beavers rebuilt as fast as they were destroyed, to the rage and confusion of our engineers. We saw nothing of theindustrious little animals, who are accustomed to labor while humanbeings sleep, but we saw their felled logs and cunningly devised dams, which a number of our men were attacking with pick and bar, standing inthe water to their arm-pits. 

Beyond them, at the Burris Farm, we passed our outlyingpickets--Irregular Riflemen from the Scoharie and Sacandaga, tall, lean, wiry men, whose leaf-brown rifle-dress so perfectly blended withthe tree-trunks that we were aware of them only when they halted us. And, Lord! To see them scowl at my Indians as they let us through, sothat I almost expected a volley in our backs, and was relieved when wewere rid o' them. 

When, later, we passed Yokam's Place, we were fairly facing that vastsolitude of twilight which lay between us and the main army's outpostsat the mouth of the Tioga. Except for a very few places on the Ouleout, and the Iroquois towns, the region was uninhabited. But the forest wasbeautiful after its own somewhat appalling fashion, which wasstupendous, majestic, and awe-inspiring to the verge of apprehension. 

Under these limitless lanes of enormous trees no sunlight fell, nounderbrush grew. All was still and vague and dusky as in pillaredaisles. There were no birds, no animals, nothing living except thegiant columns which bore a woven canopy of leaves so dense that noglimmer of blue shone through. Centuries had spread the soundlesscarpet that we trod; eons had laid up the high-sprung arches whichvanished far above us where vault and column were dimly merged, losingall form in depthless shadow. 

There was an Indian path all the way from the lake, good in places, inothers invisible. We did not use it, fearing an ambush. 

The Mohican led us; I followed him; the last Oneida marked the treesfor a new and better trail, and a straighter one not following everybend in the river. And so, in silence we moved southward over gentlysloping ground which our wagons and artillery might easily follow whilethe batteaux fell down the river and our infantry marched on eitherbank, using the path where it existed. 

Toward ten o'clock we came within sound of the river again, its softlyrushing roar filling the woods; and after a while, far through theforest dusk, we saw the thin, golden streak of sunlight marking itslonely course. 

The trail that the Mohican now selected swung ever nearer to the river, and at last, we could see low willows gilded by the sun, and a patch ofblue above, and a bird flying. 

Treading in file, rifles at trail, and knife and hatchet loosened, wemoved on swiftly just within that strip of dusk that divides the forestfrom the river shrub; and I saw the silver water flowing deep andsmooth, where batteaux as well as canoes might pass with unvexed keels;and, over my right shoulder, above the trees, a baby peak, azure andamethyst in a cobalt sky; and a high eagle soaring all alone. 

The Mohican had halted; an Oneida ran down to the sandy shore and wadedout into mid-stream; another Oneida was peeling a square of bark from atowering pine. I rubbed the white square dry with my sleeve, and with awood-coal from my pouch I wrote on it:

 "Ford, three feet at low water. "

The Stockbridge Indian who had stepped behind a river boulder and laidhis rifle in rest across the top, still stood there watching the youngOneida in midstream who, in turn, was intently examining the river bankopposite. 

Nothing stirred there, save some butterflies whirling around each otherover a bed of purple milkweed, but we all watched the crossing, riflesat a ready, as the youthful Oneida waded slowly out into the fullsunshine, the spray glittering like beaded topazes on his yellow paint. 

Presently he came to a halt, nosing the farther shore like a lean andsuspicious hound at gaze; and stood so minute after minute. 

Mayaro, crouching beside me, slowly nodded. 

"He has seen something, " I whispered. 

"And I, too, " returned the Mohican quietly. 

I looked in vain until the Sagamore, laying his naked arm along mycheek, sighted for me a patch of sand and water close inshore--a tinybay where the current clutched what floated, and spun it slowly aroundin the sunshine. 

A dead fish, lying partly on the shore, partly in the water, wasfloating there. I saw it, and for a moment paid it no heed; then in aflash I comprehended. For the silvery river-trout lying there carried aforked willow-twig between gill and gill-cover. Nor was this all; thefish was fresh-caught, for the gills had not puffed out, nor the supplebody stiffened. Every little wavelet rippled its slim and limberlength; and a thread of blood trailed from the throat-latch out overthe surface of the water. 

Suddenly the young Oneida in mid-stream shrank aside, flattening hisyellow painted body against a boulder, and almost at the same instant arifle spoke. 

I heard the bullet smack against the boulder; then the Mohican leapedpast me. For an instant the ford boiled under the silent rush of theOneidas, the Stockbridge Indian, and the Mohican; then they wereacross; and I saw the willows sway and toss where they were chasingsomething human that bounded away through the thicket. I could evenmark, without seeing a living soul, where they caught it and where itwas fighting madly but in utter silence while they were doing it todeath--so eloquent were the feathery willow-tops of the tragedy thatagitated each separate slender stem to frenzy. 

Suddenly I turned and looked at the Wyandotte, squatting motionlessbeside me. Why he had remained when the red pack started, I could notunderstand, and with that confused thought in mind I rose, ran down tothe water's edge, the Wyandotte following without a word. 

A few yards below the ford a giant walnut tree had fallen, spanning thestream to a gravel-spit; I crossed like a squirrel on this, the burlyWyandotte padding over at my heels, sprang to the bottom sand, and ranup the willow-gully. 

They were already dragging out what they had killed; and I came up tothem and looked down on the slain man who had so rashly broughtdestruction upon his own head. 

He wore no paint; he was not a warrior but a hunter. "St. Regis, " saidthe Mohican briefly. 

"The poor fool, " I said sadly. 

The young Oneida in yellow clapped the scalp against a tree-trunkcarelessly, as though we could not easily see by his blazing eyes andquivering nostrils that this was his first scalp taken in war. Then hewashed the blade of his knife in the river, wiped it dry and sheathedit, and squatted down to braid the dead hair into the hunters-lock. 

We found his still smouldering fire and some split fish baking in greenleaves; nets, hooks, spears, and a bark shoulder-basket. And he hadbeen a King's savage truly enough, foraging, no doubt, for Brant orButler, who had great difficulty in maintaining themselves in aterritory which they had so utterly laid waste--for we found in histobacco pouch a few shillings and pennies, and some pewter buttonsstamped, "Butler's Rangers. " Also I discovered a line of writing signedby old John Butler himself, recommending the St. Regis to one CaptainService, an uncle of Sir John Johnson, and a great villain who recentlyhad been shot dead by David Elerson, one of my own riflemen, whileattempting to brain Tim Murphy with an axe. 

"The poor fool, " I repeated, turning away, "Had he not meddled with warwhen his business lay only in hunting, he had gone free or, if we hadcaught him, only as a prisoner to headquarters. "

Mayaro shrugged his contempt of the St. Regis hunter; the Oneida youthsat industriously braiding his first trophy; the others had rekindledthe embers of the dead man's fire and were now parching his raw cornand dividing the baked river-trout into six portions. 

Mayaro and I ate apart, seated together upon a knoll whence we couldlook down upon the river and upon the fire, which I now ordered to becovered. 

From where I sat I could see the burly Wyandotte, squatting with theothers at his feed, and from time to time my glance returned to him. Somehow, though I knew not why, there was about this Indian anindefinable something not entirely reassuring to me; yet, just what itmight be I was not able to say. 

Truly enough he had a most villainous countenance, what with his nativeswarthiness and his broken and dented nose, so horridly embellishedwith a gash of red paint. He was broad and squat and fearfullypowerful, being but a bulk of gristly muscle; and when he leaped agully or a brook, he seemed to strike the earth like a ball of rubberand slightly rebound an the light impact. I have seen a sinewy pantherso rebound when hurled from a high tree-top. 

The Oneida youth had now braided and oiled his scalp and was stretchingit on a willow hoop, very busy with the pride and importance of hiswork. I glanced at Mayaro and caught a gleam of faint amusement in hiseyes; but his features remained expressionless enough, and it seemed tome that his covert glance rested on the Wyandotte more often than onanybody. 

The Mohican, as was customary among all Indians when painted for war, had also repainted his clan ensign, although it was tatooed on hisbreast; and the great Ghost Bear rearing on its hind quarters was nowbrilliantly outlined in scarlet. But he also wore what I had never seenany other Indian wear when painted for any ceremony in North America. For, just below the scarlet bear, was drawn in sapphire blue the ensignof his strange clan-nation--the Spirit Wolf, or Were-Wolf. And a doubleensign worn by any priest, hunter, or warrior I had never beforebeheld. No Delaware wore it unless belonging to the Wolf Clan of theLenni-Lenape, or unless he was a Siwanois Mohican and a Sagamore. Forthere existed nowhere at that time any social and political societyamong any Indian nation which combined clan and tribal, and, in ameasure, national identity, except only among the Siwanois people, whowere all three at the same time. 

As I salted my parched corn and ate it, sitting cross-legged on myhillock, my eyes wandered from one Indian to another, reading theirclan insignia; and I saw that my Oneida youth wore the little turtle, as did his comrade; that the Stockbridge Indian had painted a ChristianCross over his tattooed clan-totem--no doubt the work of the ReverendMr. Kirkland--and that the squatting Wyandotte wore the Hawk inbrilliant yellow. 

"What is yonder fellow's name?" I asked Mayaro, dropping my voice. 

"Black-Snake, " replied the Mohican quietly. 

"Oh! He seems to wear the Hawk. "

The Sagamore's face grew smooth and blank, and he made no comment. 

"It's a Western clan, is it not, Mayaro?"

"It is Western, Loskiel. "

"That clan does not exist among the Eastern nations?"

"Clans die out, clans are born, clans are altered with the years, Loskiel. "

"I never heard of the Hawk Clan at Guy Park, " said I. 

He said, with elaborate carelessness:

"It exists among the Senecas. "

"And apparently among the Wyandottes. "

"Apparently. "

I said in a low voice:

"Yonder Huron differs from any Indian I ever knew. Yet, in what hediffers I can not say. I have seen Senecas like him physically. ButSenecas and Hurons not only fought but interbred. This Wyandotte mayhave Seneca blood in him. "

The Sagamore made no answer, and after a moment I said:

"Why not confess, Mayaro, that you also have been perplexed concerningthis stranger from Fort Pitt? Why not admit that from the moment hejoined us you have had your eye on him--have been furtively studyinghim?"

"Mayaro has two eyes. For what are they unless to observe?"

"And what has my brother observed?"

"That no two people are perfectly similar, " he said blandly. 

"Very well, " I said, vexed, but quite aware that no questions of minecould force the Sagamore to speak unless he was entirely ready. "Isuppose that there exist no real grounds on which to suspect thisWyandotte. But you know as well as do I that he crossed not the riverwith the others when they did to death that wretched St. Regis hunter. Also, that there are Wyandottes in our service at Fortress Pitt, I didnot know before. "

I waited a moment, but the Mohican said nothing, and I saw his eyes, veiled like a dreaming bird of prey, so immersed did he seem to be inhis own and secret reflections. 

Presently I rose, went down to the fire, felt with my fingers among theashes to be certain no living spark remained, chatted a moment with theOneida youth, praising him till under all his modesty I saw he was liketo burst with pride; then gave the signal for departure. 

"Nevertheless, " I added, addressing them all, "this is not a scalpingparty; it is the six eyes of an army spying out a way through thiswilderness, so that our wagons, artillery, horses, and cattle may passin safety to Tioga Point. 

"Let the Sagamore strike each tree to be marked, as he leads forward. Let the Mole repeat the blow unless otherwise checked. Then shall theOneida, Grey-Feather, mark clearly the tree so doubly designated. TheOneida, Tahoontowhee, covers our right flank, marching abreast of theMohican; the Wyandotte, Black-Snake, covers our left flank, keeping theriver bank in view. March!"

All that afternoon we moved along south and west, keeping in touch withthe Susquehanna, which here is called Oak Creek, though it is theself-same stream. And we scouted the river region thoroughly, routingout nothing save startled deer that bounded from their balsam beds andwent off crashing through the osiers, or a band of wild turkeys that, bewildered, ran headlong among us so that Tahoontowhee knocked over twowith his rifle butt, and, slinging them to his shoulders, went forwardburied in plumage like same monstrous feathered goblin of the forest. 

The sun was now dropping into the West; the woods on our right haddarkened; on our left a pink light netted the river ripples. Filing inperfect silence, save for the light sound of a hatchet and theslithering of sappy bark, I had noticed, or thought I noticed, that theprogress of the Wyandotte was less quiet than ours, where he ranged ourleft flank, supposedly keeping within the forest shadow. 

Once or twice I thought I heard a small stone fall to the willow gully, as though accidentally dislodged by his swiftly passing moccasins. Once, at any rate, I caught the glimmer of the sun striking some bit ofmetal on him, where he had incautiously ranged outside the protectingshadow belt. 

That these things were purely accidental I felt sure, yet I did notcare to have them repeated. And for a long while there was neithersound nor sun-glitter from him. Then, without even a glance or a wordfor me, the Mohican quietly dropped back from the lead, waited untilthe last Oneida had passed, and moved swiftly on a diagonal course tothe left, which brought him in the tracks of the Wyandotte. 

He continued on that course for a while, I taking his place in thelead, and the Wyandotte unconscious that he was followed. Then theSagamore came gliding into our file again, and as he passed me toresume his lead, he whispered:

"Halt, and return along the bank. The Black-Snake has overrun a fordwhere there are signs for my brother to read and consider. "

I turned sharply and lifted my hand; and as the file halted I caught aglimpse of the Oneida, Tahoontowhee, on our right, and motioned him tocross, head the Wyandotte, and return with him. And when in a fewmoments he came toward us, followed by the Huron, I said, addressingthem all:

"There should be a ford hereabouts, if I am not badly mistaken, and Ithink we have accidentally overrun it. Did you see nothing that mightindicate it, Black-Snake, my brother?"

There was a furtive flicker of the Wyandotte's eyes which seemed toinclude everybody before him, then he said very coolly that he had seenno riffle that might indicate shallow water, but that there was a fordnot far below, and we ought to strike it before sunset. 

"Halt here, " said I, pretending to remain still unconvinced. "Sagamore, do you come with me a rod or so upstream. "

"There is no ford within a rod or two, " said the Wyandotte stolidly. 

And, after we had left the others, the Mohican murmured, as we hastenedon:

"No, not with one rod or two, but the third rod marks it. "

Presently, speeding under the outer fringe of trees, I caught sight ofa thin line across the water, slanting from shore to shore--not aripple, but as though the edge of an invisible reef slightly affectedthe smooth-flowing, glassy surface of the stream. 

"He might have overlooked that, " said I. 

The Sagamore's visage became very smooth; and we climbed down among thewillows toward the sand below, and there the Mohican dropped on hishands and knees. 

Directly under his eyes I saw the faint print of a moccasin. Startled, I said nothing; the Mohican studied the print for a few moments, then, crouching, crept forward among the sand-willows. I followed; and atlong intervals I could make out the string of moccasin tracks, stillvisible in the loose, dry sand. 

"Could it be the St. Regis?" I whispered. "He may have been herespearing fish. These tracks are not new. .. . And the Wyandotte mighthave overlooked these, too. "

"Maybe St. Regis, " he said. 

We had now crept nearly to the edge of the water, the dry and scarcelydiscernible tracks leading us. But they were no fresher in the dampsand. However, the Mohican did not seem satisfied, so we pulled off ourthigh-moccasins and waded out. 

Although the water looked deep enough along the unseen reef, yet wefound nowhere more than four feet, and so crossed to the other side. But before I could set foot on the shelving sand the Mohican pulled meback into the water and pointed. There was no doubting the sign welooked upon. A canoe had landed here within an hour, had been pushedoff again with a paddle without anybody landing. It was as plain as thenose on your face. 

Which way had it gone, upstream or down? If it had gone upstream, theWyandotte must have seen it and passed it without reporting it. Inother words, he was a traitor. But if the canoe had gone downstreamfrom this spot, or from some spot on the left bank a little above it, there was nothing to prove that the Wyandotte had seen it. In fact, there was every probability that he had not seen it at all. And I saidas much to the Sagamore. 

"Maybe, " he replied calmly. 

We now cautiously recrossed the stream, scarcely liking our exposedposition, but there was no help for it. After we had dressed, I markedthe trees from the ford across the old path, which was visible here, and so through to our main, spotted trail; the Mohican peeled a squareof bark, I wiped the white spot dry, and wrote with my wood-coal thedepth of water at the crossing; then we moved swiftly forward to jointhe halted scouts. 

Mayaro said to me: "We have discovered old moccasin tracks, but no fordand no canoe marks. It is not necessary for the Black-Snake to know. "

"Very well, " said I calmly. "Do you suspect him!"

"Maybe. Maybe not. But--he once wore his hair in a ridge. "

"What!"

"I looked down on him while he ate fish at the St. Regis fire. He hasnot shaved his head since two weeks. There is a thin line dividing hishead, where the hairs at their roots are bent backward. Much oil andbrushing make hairs grow that way. "

"But--what Indians wear their hair that way--like the curved ridge on adragoon's helmet?"

"The Eries. "

I stared at him without comprehension, for I knew an Erie scalp when Isaw one. 

"Not the warriors, " he added quietly. 

"What in heaven's name do you mean?" I demanded. But we were alreadywithin sight of the others, and I heeded the cautioning touch of hishand on my arm, and was silent. 

When we came up to them I said:

"There are no riffles to indicate a ford"--which was true enough--"andon the sand were only moccasin tracks a week old. "

"The Black-Snake saw them, " said the Wyandotte, so frankly and calmlythat my growing but indefinite suspicions of his loyalty were arrestedfor the moment. 

"Why did not the Black-Snake report them?" I asked. 

"They were St. Regis, and a week old, as my brother says. " And hesmiled at us all so confidingly that I could no longer believe ill ofhim. 

"Nevertheless, " said I, "we will range out on either flank as far asthe ford which should be less than a mile down stream. " And I placedthe Wyandotte between both Oneidas and on the forest side; and as thevalley was dry and open under its huge standing timber, I myself led, notching the trail and keeping a lively eye to the left, wherever Icaught a glimpse of water sparkling. 

Presently the Mohican halted in view of the river-bank, making a signfor me to join him, which I did, briefly bidding the Stockbridge Moleto notch the trees in my stead. 

"A canoe has passed, " said the Sagamore calmly. 

"What! You saw it?"

"No, Loskiel. But there was spray on a boulder in a calm pool. "

"Perhaps a deer crossed, or a mink or otter crawled across the stone. "

"No; the drops were many, but they lay like the first drops of a rain, separate and distinct. "

"A great fish leaping might have spattered it. "

"There was no wash against the rock from any fish-swirl. "

"Then you believe that there is a canoe ahead of us going with thecurrent?"

"An hour ahead--less, I think. "

"Why an hour?"

"The sun is low; the river boulders are not hot. Water might dry onthem in an hour or less. These drops were nearly dry, save one or twowhere the sun made them shine. "

"A careless paddle-stroke did it, " I said in a low voice. 

"No Indian is careless. "

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, Loskiel, that the boulder was splashed purposely, or thatthere are white men in that canoe. "

"Splashed purposely?" I said, bewildered. 

"Perhaps. The Black-Snake had the river watch--until you changed ourstations. "

"You think it might have been a sign for him from possibleconfederates. "

"Maybe. Maybe clumsy white men. "

"What white men? No forest runners dare range these woods at such atime as this. Do you mean a scalping party of Butler's men?"

"Maybe. "

We had been walking swiftly while we spoke together in low and guardedtones; now I nodded my comprehension, sheered off to the right, tookthe trail-lead, replacing the Stockbridge Mole, and signalled thenearest Oneida, Grey-Feather, to join Mayaro on the left flank. Thismade it necessary for me to call the Wyandotte into touch, which I did;and the other Oneida, the "Night-Hawk, " or Tahoontowhee, closed in fromthe extreme outer flank. 

The presence of that canoe worried me, nor could I find any explanationfor it. None of our surveyors was out--no scouts had gone in thatdirection. Of course I knew that we were likely to run across scouts orscalping parties of the enemy almost anywhere between the outlet toOtsego Lake and Tioga Point, yet somehow had not expected to encounterthem until we had at least reached the Ouleout. 

Another thing; if this phantom canoe was now within an hour of us, andgoing with the current, it must at one time have been very, very closeto us--in fact, just ahead and within sight of the Wyandotte, if, indeed, it had not come silently downstream from behind us and shotpast us in plain view of the Black-Snake. 

Was the Wyandotte a traitor? For only he could have seen this. And Iown that I felt more comfortable having him on our right flank in theforest, and away from the river; and as I notched my trees I kept himin view, sideways, and pondered an the little that I knew of him, butcame to no conclusion. For of all things in the world I know less oftreachery and its wiles than of any other stratagem; and so utterly doI misunderstand it, and so profound is my horror of it, that I nevercan credit it to anybody until I see them hanged by the neck for it orshot in hollow square, a-sitting upon their coffins. 

Presently I saw the Sagamore stop and make signs to me that the fordwas in sight. Immediately I signalled the Wyandotte and the fartherOneida to close in; and a few moments later we were gathered in theforest shadow above the river, lying on our bellies and gazing far downstream at the distant line of ripples running blood-red under thesunset light. 

Was there an ambush there, prepared for us? God knew. Yet, we mustapproach and examine that ford, and pass it, too, and resume our marchon the right bank of the river to avoid the hemlock swamps and rockyhills ahead, which no wagons or artillery could hope to pass. 

My first and naturally cautious thought was to creep nearer and thensend the Wyandotte out under cover of our clustered rifles. But if hewere truly in any collusion with an unseen enemy they would never fireon him, and so it would be useless to despatch him on such a mission. 

"Wait for the moon, " said the Sagamore very quietly. 

His low, melodious voice startled me from my thoughts, and I lookedaround at him inquiringly. 

"I will go, " said the Wyandotte, smiling. 

"One man will never draw fire from an ambush, " said the Grey-Feathercunningly. "The wild drake swims first into the net; the flock follows. "

"Why does my younger brother of the Oneida believe that we need fearany ambush at yonder ford?" asked the Wyandotte so frankly that again Ifelt that I could credit no ill of any man who spoke so fairly. 

"Listen to the crows, " returned the Oneida. "Their evening call tocouncil is long and deliberate--Kaah! Kaah! Kaah--h! What are theysaying now, Black-Snake, my elder brother?"

I glanced at the Mohican in startled silence, for we all were listeningvery intently to the distant crows. 

"They have discovered an owl, perhaps, " said the Wyandotte, smiling, "and are tormenting him. "

"Or a Mountain Snake, " said the Sagamore blandly. 

Now, what the Sagamore said so innocently had two meanings. He mighthave meant that the cawing of the crows indicated that they wereobjecting to a rattlesnake sunning on some rock. Also he might havemeant to say that their short, querulous cawing betrayed the presenceof Seneca Indians in ambush. 

"Or a Mountain Snake, " repeated the Siwanois, with a perfectly blankface. "The red door of the West is still open. "

"Or a bear, " said the Grey-Feather, cunningly slurring the Caniengaword and swallowing the last syllable so that it might possibly havemeant "Mohawk. "

The Wyandotte turned good-humouredly to the Mohican, not pretending tomisunderstand this subtle double entendre and play upon words. 

"You, Sagamore of the Loups, " he said, carrying out the metaphor, "arecloser to the four-footed people than are we Wyandottes. "

"That is true, " said the Grey-Feather. "My elder brother, theBlack-Snake, wears the two-legged hawk. "

Which, again, if it was meant that way, hinted that the Hawk was analien clan, and neither recognized nor understood by the Oneida. Also, by addressing the Wyandotte as "elder" brother, the Oneida conveyed abroad hint of blood relationship between Huron and Seneca. Yet, thereneed have been nothing definitely offensive in that hint, because amongall the nations a certain amalgamation always took place after aninternational conflict. 

The Wyandotte did not lose his temper, nor even, apparently, perceivehow slyly he was being baited by all except myself. 

"What is the opinion of the Loup, O Sagamore?" he asked lightly. 

"Does my brother the Black-Snake desire to know the Sagamore's opinionconcerning the cawing of yonder crows?"

The Wyandotte inclined his ugly head. 

"I think, " said the Mohican deliberately, "that there may be a tree-catin their vicinity. "

A dead silence followed. The Wyandotte's countenance was still smiling, but I thought the smile had stiffened and become fixed, though not atremour moved him. Yet, what the Mohican had said--always with twomeanings, and one quite natural and innocent--meant, if taken in itssinister sense, that not only might there be Senecas lying in ambush atthe ford, but also emissaries from the Red Priest Amochol himself. Forthe forest lynx, or tree-cat, was the emblem of these people; and everyIndian present knew it. 

Still, also, every man there had seen crows gather around and scold alynx lying flattened out on some arching limb. 

Whether now there was any particular suspicion of this Wyandotte amongthe other Indians; whether it was merely their unquenchable and nativedistrust of any Huron whatever; whether the subtle chaff were playfulor partly serious, I could not determine from their manner orexpression. All spoke pleasantly and quietly, and with open orexpressionless countenances. And the Wyandotte still smiled, althoughwhat was going on under that urbane mask of his I had no notionwhatsoever. 

I turned cautiously, and looked behind us. We were gathered in a kindof natural and moss-grown rocky pulpit, some thirty feet above thestream, and with an open view down its course to the distant riffles. Beyond them the river swung southward, walling our view with itsflanking palisade of living green. 

"We camp here, " I said quietly. "No fire, of course. Two sentinels--theNight Hawk and the Black-Snake. The guard will be relieved every twohours. Wake me at the first change of watch. "

I laid my watch on a rock where all could see it, and, opening my sack, fished out a bit of dried beef and a handful of parched corn. 

Mayaro shared with me on my motioned invitation; the others fell to intheir respective and characteristic manners, the Oneidas eating likegentlemen and talking together in their low and musical voices; theWyandotte gobbling and stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk. TheStockbridge Mole, noiseless and mum as the occult and furry animalwhich gave to him his name, nibbled sparingly all alone by himself, andread in his Algonquin Testament between bites. 

The last level sun rays stripped with crimson gold the outer edges ofthe woods; the stream ran purple and fire, and the ceaseless sighing ofits waters sounded soft as foliage stirring on high pines. 

I said to the Mole in a low voice:

"Brother in Christ, do you find consolation and peace in your Testamentwhen the whole land lies writhing under the talons and bloody beak ofwar?"

The Stockbridge warrior looked up quietly:

"I read the promise of the Prince of Peace, brother, who came to theworld not bearing a sword. "

"He came to fulfill, not to destroy, " I said. 

"So it is written, brother. "

"And yet you and I, His followers, go forth armed to slay. "

"To prepare a place for Him--His humble instruments--lest His hands besoiled with the justice of God's wrath. What is it that we wade inblood, so that He pass with feet unsoiled?"

"My brother has spoken. "

The burning eyes of the calm fanatic were fastened on me, then theyserenely reverted to the printed page on his knees; and he continuedreading and nibbling at his parched and salted corn. If ever a convertbroke bread with the Lord, this red disciple now sat supping in Hispresence, under the immemorial eaves of His leafy temple. 

The Grey-Feather, who had been listening, said quietly:

"We Iroquois alone, among all Indians, have always acknowledged oneSpirit. We call Him the Master of Life; you Christians call Him God. And does it truly avail anything with Tharon, O my brother Loskiel, ifI wear the Turtle, or if my brother the Mole paints out the Beaver onhis breast with a Christian cross?"

"So that your religion be good and you live up to it, sign and symbolavail nothing with God or with Tharon, " said I. 

"Men wear what they love best, " said the Mole, lightly touching hiscross. 

"But under cross and clan ensign, " said I, "lies a man's secret heart. Does the Master of Life judge any man by the colour of his skin or thepaint he wears, or the clothing? Christ's friends were often beggars. Did Tharon ever ask of any man what moccasins he wore?"

The Sagamore said gravely:

"Uncas went naked to the Holder of the Heavens. "

It was a wonderful speech for a Sagamore and an Algonquin, for he usedthe Iroquois term to designate the Holder of Heaven. The perfectcourtesy of a Christian gentleman could go no further. And I thought ofour trivial and petty and warring sects, and was silent and ashamed. 

The Wyandotte wiped his powerful jaw with a handful of dead leaves, andlooked coldly around at the little circle of men who differed with oneanother so profoundly in their religious beliefs. 

"Is this then the hour and the place to discuss such matters, andirritate the Unseen?"

All eyes were instantly turned on the pagan; the Oneidas seemedtroubled; the Sagamore serious. Only the Christian Indian remainedplacid and indifferent, his Testament suspended in his hand. But healso was listening. 

As for me, I knew as well as did the others what the pagan and burlyWyandotte meant. 

To every Indian--even to many who had been supposedly converted--air, earth, and water still remained thronged with demons. The vast andsunless wilderness was peopled with goblins and fairies. No naturalphenomenon occurred except by their agency. Where the sun went after ithad set, where the moon hid, the stars, the four great winds, the eightthunders--all remained mysteries to these red children of the forest. And to these mysteries demons held the keys. For no star fell, showering the night with incandescence, no comet blazed aloft, itsstreaming hair sweeping from zenith to horizon, no eclipse devoured sunor moon, no sunrise painted the Long House golden, no sunset stainedits lodge-poles crimson, no waters ran, no winds blew, no clouds piledup quivering with lightning, no thunder rumbled, except that it wasdone by demons. 

Fur, feather, and silver-scale also had souls, and slyly took counciltogether when alone; the great trees talked to one another in forestdepths; moonlit rocks conversed in secret; and peak whispered to peakabove the flowing currents of the mist. 

It was useless to dispute such matters with them, while everyphenomenon of nature remained to them a mystery. For they had brainsand a matchless imagination, and they were obliged to solve thesethings for themselves as best they knew how, each people according toits personal characteristics. 

So, among the Onondagas, Oneidas, and Mohawks, evil demons were few, and good fairies many; among the Cayugas good and bad seemed fairlybalanced; but among the sullen, brutal, and bestial Senecas, devils, witches, demons, and goblins were in the vast majority. And theirperverted Erie priesthood, which had debauched some of their ownSachems, was a stench in the nostrils of any orthodox Sachem, and, toan ordained Sagamore, an offense and sacrilege unspeakable. 

I sat looking hard at the Wyandotte, inclined to speak, yet unwillingto meddle where intervention must be useless. 

His small, unwinking eyes met mine. 

"There are demons, " he said in a low voice. 

"Demons in human form, " I nodded. "Some were at Cherry Valley a yearago. "

"There are witches, " he said. 

I shook my head: "None. "

"And Giants of Stone, and Flying Heads, and the Dead Hunter, and theLake Serpent, " he persisted sullenly. 

"There never were either giants or witches, " I replied. 

The Mole looked up from his Testament in surprise, but said nothing. Yet, by his expression I knew he was thinking of the Witch of Endor, and the Dukes of Edom, and the giants of the scriptures. But it seemedhopeless to modify his religious teachings by any self-developedtheories of mine. 

All I desired to do was to keep this pagan Huron from tampering with mywarriors' nerves. And it required but little of the supernatural toaccomplish this. 

No Indian, however brave and faithful and wise in battle, howevercunning and tireless and unerring on forest trail or on unchartedwaters, could remain entirely undisturbed by any menace of invisibleevil. For they were an impulsive race, ever curbing their impulses andblindly seeking for reason. But what appealed to their emotions andtheir imagination still affected them most profoundly, and hampered theslow, gradual, but steady development of a noble race emerging by itsown efforts from absolute and utter ignorance. 

I said quietly: "After all, the Master of Life stands sentry while theguiltless sleep!"

"Amen, " said the Mole, lifting his calm eyes to the roof of leavesabove. 

An owl began to hoot--one of those great, fierce cat-owls of the North. Every Indian listened. 

The Sagamore said pleasantly to the Wyandotte:

"It is as though he were calling the lynxes together--as Amochol theAccursed summons his Cat-People to the sacrifice. "

"I know nothing of Amochol and his sacrifices, " said the Wyandottecarelessly. 

"Yet you Wyandottes border the Western Gate. "

The Huron shrugged. 

"Hear the Eared One squall, " said Grey-Feather, as the great owl yelledthrough the darkening forest. 

"One would think to hear an Erie speaking, " said the Sagamore, lookingsteadily at the Black-Snake. But the latter seemed totally unaware ofwhat amounted now to a persistent baiting. 

"They say, " continued the Sagamore, "that the Erie priesthood learnedfrom the Nez Perces a strange and barbarous fashion. "

"What fashion?" asked Grey-Feather, so innocently that I could notdetermine whether he was playing into the Sagamore's hands. 

"The fashion of wearing the hair in a short, stiff ridge, " said theMohican. "Has the Black-Snake ever seen it worn that way?"

"Never, " said the Huron. And there was neither in his voice nor on hisfeatures the slightest tremour that we could discover in the fadinglight of the afterglow. 

I rose to put an end to this, for my own nerves were now on edge; and Idirected the two sentinels to their posts, the Wyandotte and theOneida, Tahoontowhee. 

Then I lay down beside the Mohican. All the Indians had unrolled andput on their hunting shirts; I spread my light blanket and pillowed myhead on my pack. 

In range of my vision the Mole had dropped to his knees and was prayingwith clasped hands. Shamed, I arose and knelt also, to say in silencemy evening prayer, so often slurred over while I lay prone, or evenentirely neglected. 

Then I returned to my blanket to lie awake and think of Lois, until atlast I dreamed of her. But the dream was terrible, and I awoke, sweating, and found the Sagamore seated upright in the darkness besideme. 

"Is it time to change the guard?" I asked, still shivering from thehorror of my dream. 

"You have scarce yet closed your eyes, Loskiel. "

"Why are you seated upright wide awake, my brother?"

"There is evil in the wind. "

"There is no wind stirring. "

"A witch-wind came slyly while you slept. Did you not dream, Loskiel?"In spite of me I shivered again. 

"That is foolishness, " said I. "The Wyandotte's silly talk has made uswakeful. Our sentinels watch. Sleep, Mayaro. "

"Have you need of sleep, Loskiel?"

"I? No. Sleep you, then, and I will sit awake if it reassures you. "

The Sagamore set his mouth close to my ear:

"The Wyandotte is not posted where you placed him. "

"What? How do you know?"

"I went out to see. He sits on a rock close to the water. "

"Damn him, " I muttered angrily. "I'll teach him----"

"No!"

The Mohican's iron grip held me in my place. 

"The Night-Hawk understands. Let the Wyandotte remain unrebuked andundisturbed while I creep down to yonder ford. "

"I do not intend to reconnoitre the ford until dawn, " I whispered. 

"Let me go, Loskiel. "

"Alone?"

"Secretly and alone. The Siwanois is a magic clan. Their Sagamores seeand hear where others perceive nothing. Let me go, Loskiel. "

"Then I go, also. "

"No. "

"What of our blood-brotherhood, then?"

There was a silence; then the Mohican rose, and taking my hand in hisdrew me noiselessly to my feet beside him. 

By sense of touch alone we lifted our rifles from our blankets, blewthe powder from the pans, reprimed. Then, laying my left arm lightly onhis shoulder, I followed his silent figure over the moss and down amongthe huge and phantom trees faintly outlined against the starlit water. 

CHAPTER XII

AT THE FORD

When at length from the forest's edge we saw star-beams splinteringover broken water, cutting the flat, translucent darkness of the riverwith necklaces of light, we halted; for this was the ford foaming therein obscurity with its silvery, mellow voice, unheeded in thewilderness, yet calling ever as that far voice called through theshadows of ages dead. 

Now, from where we stood the faint line of sparkles seemed to run alittle way into the darkness and vanish. But the indications weresufficient to mark the spot where we should enter the water; and, stepping with infinite precaution, we descended to the gravel. Here westripped to the clout and laid our rifles on our moccasins, coveringthe pans with our hunting shirts. Then we strapped on our war-belts, loosening knife and hatchet, pulled over our feet our spareankle-moccasins of oiled moose-hide soled with the coarse hair of thegreat, blundering beast himself. 

I led, setting foot in the icy water, and moving out into the shadowwith no more noise than a chub's swirl or a minnow's spatter-leap whena great chain-pike snaps at him. 

Feeling my way over bed stones and bottom gravel with my feet, strivingin vain to pierce the dense obscurity, I moved forward with infinitecaution, balancing as best I might against the current. Ankle-deep, shin-deep, knee-deep we waded out. Presently the icy current chilled mythighs, rising to my waistline. But it grew no deeper. 

Yet, here so swift was the current that I scarcely dared move, and waspeering around to find the Sagamore, when a shape loomed up on my left. And I reached out and rested my hand on the shadowy shoulder, and stoodso, swaying against the stream. 

Suddenly a voice said, in the Seneca dialect:

"Is it thou, Butler?"

And every drop of blood froze in my body. 

God knows how I found voice to answer "Yes, " and how I found courage tolet my hand remain upon my enemy's shoulder. 

"It is I, Hiokatoo, " said the low voice. 

"Move forward, " I said; and dropped my hand from his shoulder. 

Somehow, although I could see nothing, all around me in the water Ifelt the presence of living creatures. At the same moment somebody cameclose to me from behind, and the Sagamore breathed his name in my ear. 

I managed to retain my presence of mind, and, laying my mouth againsthis ear in the darkness, I whispered:

"The Seneca Hiokatoo and his warriors--all around us in the water. Hemistakes me for Walter Butler, They have been reconnoitring our camp. "

I felt the body of the Mohican stiffen under my grasp, Then he saidquietly:

"Stand still till all have passed us. "

"Yes; but let no Seneca hear your Algonquin speech. If any speak I willanswer for you. "

"It is well, " said the Sagamore quietly. And I heard him cautiouslyloosening his hatchet. 

Presently a dark form took shape in the gloom and passed us withoutspeaking; then another, and another, and another, all wading forwardwith scarce a ripple sounding against their painted bodies. Then onecame up who spoke also in Seneca dialect, saying to the Mohican thatthe canoe was to be sent up stream on observation, and asking thewhereabouts of McDonald. 

So they were all there, the bloody crew! But once more I found voice toorder the Seneca across, saying that I would attend to the canoe whenthe time came to employ it. 

This Indian seemed to understand very little English, and he hesitated;but I laid my hand flat on his naked back, and gave him a slight shovetoward the farther shore. And he went on, muttering. 

Two more passed. We waited in nervous silence for the next, not knowinghow many had been sent to prowl around our camp. And as no more came, Iwhispered to the Sagamore:

"Let us go back. If more are to come, and if there be among them Butleror McDonald or any white man, he will never mistake me for any of hisfellows after he hears me speak. "

The Sagamore turned, the water swirling to his waist. I followed. Weencountered nobody until the water began to shoal. Then, in mid-stream, a dark figure loomed out of the night, confronting us, and I heard himsay in the Seneca language:

"Halt and turn. You travel the wrong way!"

"Go forward and mind your business!" I said in English. 

The shadowy figure seemed astounded, remaining motionless there in theford. Suddenly he bent forward as though to see my features, and at thesame instant the Sagamore seized him and jerked his head under water. 

But he could not hold him, for the fellow was oiled, and floundered upin the same instant. No doubt the water he had swallowed kept the yellsafe in his throat, but his hatchet was out and high-swung as theSagamore grasped his wrist, holding his arm in the air. Then, holdinghim so, the Mohican passed his knife through the man's heart, strikingwith swiftness incredible again and again; and as his victim collapsed, he eased him down into the water, turned him over, and took hisshoulders between his knees. 

"God!" I whispered. "Don't wait for that!"

But the Siwanois warrior was not to be denied; and in a second or twothe wet scalp flapped at his belt. 

Rolling over and over with the current, the limp body slipped downstream and disappeared into deeper shadows. We waded swiftly toward ourown shore, crawled across the gravel, drew on our clothing, and stoleup into the woods above. 

"They'll know it by sunrise, " I said. "How many did you count?"

"Thirteen in that war-party, Loskiel. And if Butler and McDonald bewith them, that makes fifteen--and doubtless other renegades besides. "

"Then we had best pull foot, " said I. And I drew my knife and blazedthe ford; and, as well as I might without seeing, wrote the depth ofwater on the scar. 

I heard the Mohican's low laughter. 

"The Senecas will see it and destroy it. But it will drive themfrantic, " he said. 

"Whatever they do to this tree will but mark the ford more plainly, "said I. 

And the Mohican laughed and laughed and patted my shoulder, as we movedfast on our back trail. I think he was excited, veteran though he was, at his taking of a Seneca warrior's scalp. "Had you not jerked himunder water when he leaned forward over your shoulder to see whatmanner of man was speaking English, " said I, "doubtless he had awakenedthe forest with his warning yell in another moment. "

"Let him yell at the fishes, now, " said the Mohican, laughing. "Nodoubt the eels will understand him; they are no more slippery than he. "

Save for the vague forms of the trees dimly discerned against thewater, the darkness was impenetrable; and except for these guides, evenan Indian could scarcely have moved at all. We followed the bank, keeping just within the shadows; and I was ever scanning the spots ofstarlit water for that same canoe which I had learned was to goupstream to watch us. 

Presently the Siwanois checked me and whispered:

"Yonder squats your Wyandotte sentinel. "

"Where? I can not see him. "

"On that flat rock by the deep water, seeming a part of it. "

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Loskiel. "

"You saw him move?"

"No. But a Siwanois of the Magic Clan makes nothing of darkness. Hesees where he chooses to see. 

"Mayaro, " said I, "what do you make of this Wyandotte?"

"He has quitted his post without orders for a spot by the deep water. Acanoe could come there, and he could speak to those within it. "

"That might damn a white soldier, but an Indian is different. "

"He is a Wyandotte--or says he is. "

"Yes, but he came with credentials from Fortress Pitt. "

"Once, " said the Sagamore, "he wore his hair in a ridge. "

"If the Eries learned that from the Nez Perces, why might not theWyandottes also learn it?"

"He wears the Hawk. "

"Yes, I know it. "

"He saw the moccasin tracks in the sand at the other ford, Loskiel, andremained silent. "

"I know it. "

"And I believe, also, that he saw the canoe. "

"Then, " said I, "you mean that this Wyandotte is a traitor. "

"If he be a Wyandotte at all. "

"What?"

"He may be Huron; he may be a Seneca-Huron. But we Indians thinkdifferently, Loskiel. "

"What do you think?"

"We do not know for certain. But"--and the Mohican's voice becamequietly ferocious--"if a war-arrow ever struck this Wyandotte betweenthe shoulders I think every tree-cat in the Long House would squall atthe condoling council. "

"You think this Wyandotte an Erie in disguise?" I asked incredulously. 

"We Indians of different nations are asking that question of eachother, Loskiel. "

"What is the mind of the Grey-Feather concerning this?" I asked, horrified. 

"Oneida and Stockbridge begin to believe as I believe. "

"That this creature is a spy engaged to lead us to our deaths? Do theybelieve that this self-styled Wyandotte is an infamous Erie?"

"We so believe, Loskiel. We are not yet certain. "

"But you who have taken Erie scalps should know----"

"We know an Erie by his paint and lock; by his arms and moccasins. Butwhen an Erie wears none of these it is not easy to determine exactlywhat he might be. There is, in the Western nation, much impure blood, much mixing of captive and adopted prisoners with the Senecaconquerors. If an Erie wear cats' claws at the root of his scalp-lock, even a blind Quaker might know him. If one of their vile priests wearhis hair in a ridge, then, unless he be a Nez Perce, there need be nodoubt. But this man dresses and paints and conducts like no Erie I haveever seen. And yet I believe him one, and a Sachem at that!"

"Then, by God!" said I in a cold fury. "I will go down to the streamand put him under arrest until such time as his true colours may beproperly determined!"

"Loskiel, if yonder Indian once saw in your eye that you meant to takehim, he would slip between your hands like a spotted trout and be offdown stream to his comrades. Go not toward him angry, or with anythingin your manner and voice that he might distrust. "

"I never learned to smile in the face of a traitor!"

"Learn now, then. Brother, you are young; and war is long. And of manyaspects are they who take arms in their hands to slay. Strength isgood; quickness and a true eye to the rifle-sight are good. But best ofall in war are the calmness and patience of wisdom. A Sagamore hasspoken. "

"What would you have me do?"

"Nothing, yet. "

"But we must make a night march of it, and I could not endure thatinfamous creature's company, even if it were safe for us to take himwith us. "

"My brother may remain tranquil. The Grey-Feather and I are watchinghim. The praying Indian and Tahoontowhee understand also. When we onceare certain, the Erie dies. "

"When you are certain, " said I in a fury, "I will have him properlytried by military court and hung as high as Amherst hung two of hisfellow devils. I wish to God he had executed the entire nation while hewas about it. For once Sir William Johnson was wrong to interfere. "

The Sagamore laughed and laid one hand on my shoulder:

"Is it a custom for an Ensign to pass judgment on a Major-General, OLoskiel, my dear but much younger brother?"

I blushed hot with annoyance and shame. Of all things on earth, self-control was the most necessary quality to any officer commandingIndians. 

"The Sagamore is right, " I said in a mortified voice. 

"The Sagamore has lived longer than his younger brother, " he rejoinedgently. 

"And is far wiser, " said I. 

"A little wiser in some few things concerning human life, Loskiel. .. . Does my brother desire that Mayaro shall bring in the Wyandotte?"

"Bring him, " I said; and walked forward toward our camp. 

Tahoontowhee stopped me with his challenge, then sprang forward at thesound of my voice. 

"Men in the woods, " he whispered, "creeping up from the South. They sawno fire and prowled no nearer than panthers prowl when they know a campis awake. "

"Senecas, " I said briefly. "We make a night march of it. Remain onguard here. The Grey-Feather will bring your pack to you when we pickyou up. "

As I ascended the rocky pulpit, both the Grey-Feather and theStockbridge were standing erect and wide awake, packs strapped andslung, rifles in hand. 

"Senecas, " I said. "Too many for us. "

"Are we not to strike?" asked the Oneida wistfully, as the Mohican cameswiftly up the rock followed by the Wyandotte, who seemed inclined tolag. 

"Why did you quit your post?" I asked him bluntly. 

"There was a better post and more to see on the rock, " he said simply. 

"You made a mistake. Your business is to obey your commanding officer. Do you understand?"

"The Black-Snake understands. "

"Did you discover nothing from your rock?"

"Nothing. Deer moved in the woods. "

"Red deer, " I said coolly. 

"A July deer is in the red coat always. "

"The deer you heard are red the whole year round. "

"Eho! The Black-Snake understands. "

"Very well. Tie your pack, sling it, and shoulder your rifle. We marchimmediately. "

He seemed to be willing enough, and tied his points with alacrity. Norcould I, watching him as well I might in so dark a spot, see anythingsuspicious in any movement he made. 

"The Sagamore leads, " I said; "the Black-Snake follows; I follow him;after me the Mole; and the Oneidas close the rear. .. . Attention!. .. Trail arms! File!"

And as we climbed out of our pulpit and descended over the moss to thesoundless carpet of moist leaves:

"Silence, " I said. "A sound may mean the death of us all. Cover yourrifle-pans with your blankets. No matter what happens, no man is tofire without orders----"

I stopped abruptly and laid my hand on the Black-Snake'shatchet-sheath, feeling it all over with my finger-tips in the dark. 

"Damnation!" I said. "There are tin points on the fringe! You mightbetter wear a cow-bell! Where did you get it?"

"It was in my pack. "

"You have not worn it before. Why do you wear it now?"

"It is looser in time of need. "

"Very well. Stand still. " I whipped out my knife and, bunching thefaintly tinkling thrums in my fingers, severed the tin points andtossed them into the darkness. 

"I can understand, " said I, "a horse-riding Indian of the plainsgalloping into battle all over cow-bells, but never before have I heardof any forest Indian wearing such a fringe in time of war. "

The rebuke seemed to stun the Wyandotte. He kept his face averted whileI spoke, then at my brief word stepped forward into his place betweenmyself and the Mohican. 

"March!" I said in a low voice. 

The Sagamore led us in a wide arc north, then west; and there was nohope of concealing or covering our trail, for in the darkness no mancould see exactly where the man in front of him set foot, nor hope toavoid the wet sand of rivulets or the soft moss which took the imprintof every moccasin as warm wax yields to the seal. 

That there was in the primeval woods no underbrush, save along streamsor where the windfall had crashed earthward, made travelling in silencepossible. 

The forest giants branched high; no limbs threatened us; or, if therewere any, the Sagamore truly had the sight of all night-creatures, fornot once did a crested head brush the frailest twig; not once did amoccasined foot crash softly through dead and fallen wood. 

The slope toward the river valley became steeper; we travelled along aheavily-wooded hillside at an angle that steadily increased. After anhour of this, we began to feel rock under foot, and our moccasinscrushed patches of reindeer moss, dry as powder. 

It was in such a place as this, or by wading through running water, that there could be any hope of hiding our trail; and as we began totraverse a vast, flat shoulder of naked rock, I saw that the Mohicanmeant to check and perplex any pursuit next morning. 

What was my disgust, then, to observe that the Wyandotte's moccasinswere soaking wet, and that he left at every step his mark for themorning sun to dry at leisure. 

Stooping stealthily, I laid my hand flat in his wet tracks, and feltthe grit of sand. Accidentally or otherwise, he had stepped into somespring brook which we had crossed in the darkness. Clearly the man wasa fool, or something else. 

And I was obliged to halt the file and wait until the Wyandotte hadchanged to spare moccasins; which I am bound to say he seemed to dowillingly enough. And my belief in his crass stupidity grew, relievingme of fiercer sentiments which I had begun to harbour as I thought ofall we knew or suspected concerning this man. 

So it was forward once more across the naked, star-lit rock, whereblueberry bushes grew from crevices, and here and there some tallevergreen, the roots of which were slowly sundering the rock into soil. 

Rattlesnakes were unpleasantly numerous here--this country beingnotorious for them, especially where rocks abound. But so that theysprung their goblin rattles in the dark to warn us, we had less fear ofthem than of that slyer and no less deadly cousin of theirs, whichmoved abroad at night as they did, but was often too lazy or toovicious to warn us. 

The Mohican sprang aside for one, and ere I could prevent him, theWyandotte had crushed it. And how to rebuke him I scarcely knew, forwhat he had done seemed natural enough. Yet, though the Mohican seizedthe twisting thing and flung it far into the blueberry scrub, the marksof a bloody heel were now somewhere on the rocks for the rising sun todry but not to obliterate. God alone knew whether such repeatedevidence of stupidity meant anything worse. But now I was resolved tohave done with this Indian at the first opportunity, and risk thechance of clearing myself of any charge concerning disobedience oforders as soon as I could report to General Sullivan with my command. 

The travelling now, save for the dread of snakes, was pleasant andopen. We had been gradually ascending during the last two hours, andnow we found ourselves traversing the lengthening crest of a rocky andtreeless ridge, with valleys on either side of us, choked withmotionless lakes of mist, which seemed like vast snow fields under thesplendour of the stars. 

I think we all were weary enough to drop in our tracks and sleep as wefell. But I gave no order to halt, nor did I dream of interfering withthe Sagamore, or even ask him a single question. It was promising togive me a ruder schooling than my regiment could offer me--thistravelling with men who could outrun and outmarch the vast majority ofwhite men. 

Yet, I had been trained under Major Parr, and with such men in mycommand as Elerson, Mount, and Murphy; and I had run with Oneidasbefore and scouted far and wide with the best of them. 

It was the rock-running that tired us, and I for one was grateful whenwe left the starlit obscurity of the ridge and began to swing downward, first through berry scrub and ground-hemlock, then through a thin beltof birches into the dense blackness of the towering forest. 

Down, ever down we moved on a wide-slanting and easy circle, such asthe high hawk swings when he is but a speck in the midsummer sky. 

Presently the ground under our feet became level. A low, murmuringsound stole out of the darkness, pleasantly filling our ears as weadvanced. A moment later, the Mohican halted; and we caught a faintgleam in the darkness. 

"Sisquehanne, " he said. 

If, was the Susquehanna. Tired as I was I could not forbear a smilewhen this Mohican saluted the noble river by its Algonquin name in thepresence of those haughty Iroquois who owned it. And it seemed to me asthough I could hear the feathered crests stiffen on the two Oneidaheads; for this was Oneida country, and they had been maliciouslyreminded that the Lenape had once named for them their river undercircumstances in which no Iroquois took any pride. Little evidences ofthe subtle but ever-living friction between my Mohican and the twoOneidas were plenty, but never more maliciously playful than this. Andpresently I heard the Sagamore politely mention the Ouleout by itsIroquois name, Aulyoulet, which means "a voice that continues"; andwhile I sent the Night-Hawk down to the water to try for a crossing, Mohican and Oneida conversed very amiably, the topic being our enemies, and how it was that on the Ouleout and in Pennsylvania they had sooften spared the people of that state and had directed their full furytoward New York. 

The Oneida said it was because the Iroquois had no quarrel with Penn'speople, who themselves disliked the intruding Yankee and New Yorker;but they were infuriated against us because we had driven the Iroquoisfrom their New York lands and had punished them so dreadfully atOriskany. And he further said that Cherry Valley would not have beenmade such a shambles except that Colonel Clyde and Colonel Campbelllived there, who had done them so much injury at Oriskany. 

I myself thought that this was the truth, for no Iroquois ever forgaveus Oriskany; and what we were now about to do to them must foreverleave an implacable and unquenchable hatred between the Long House andthe people of New York. 

For on this river which we now followed, and between us and Tioga, where our main army lay, were the pretty Iroquois towns, Ingaren, Owaga, Chenang, and Owega, with their well-built and well-cellaredhouses, their tanneries, mills, fields of corn and potatoes, orchards, and pleasant gardens full of watermelons, muskmelons, peas, beans, squashes--in fact, everything growing that might ornament the estate ofa proud man of my own colour. Thus had the Mohican described thesetowns to me. And now, as I sat weary, thinking, I knew that even beforeour army at Otsego joined the Tioga army, it would utterly destroythese towns on its way down; ruin the fields, and burn and girdle theorchards. 

And this was not even the beginning of our destined march ofdestruction and death from one end of the Long House to the other!

Now our Oneida crept back to us, saying that the river was so low wecould cross up to our arm-pits; and stood there naked, a slender andperfect statue, all adrip, and balancing pack and rifle on his head. 

Wearily we picked our way down to the willows, stripped, hoisted riflesand packs, and went into the icy water. It seemed almost impossible forme to find courage and energy to dress, even after that chilling andinvigorating plunge; but at last I was into my moccasins and shirtagain. The Sagamore strode lightly to the lead; the Wyandotte startedfor the rear, but I shoved him next to the Mohican and in front of me, hating him suddenly, so abrupt and profound was my conviction that hisstupidity was a studied treachery and not the consequences of a loutishmind. 

"That is your place, " I said sharply. 

"You gave no orders. "

"Nor did I rescind my last order, which was that you march behind theSagamore. "

"Is that to be the order of march?" he asked. 

"What do you mean by questioning your officer?" I demanded. 

"I am no soldier, but an Indian!" he said sullenly. 

"You are employed and paid as a guide by General Sullivan, are you not?Very well. Then obey my orders to the letter, or I'll put you underarrest!"

That was not the way to talk to any Indian; but such a great loathingand contempt far this Wyandotte had seized me, so certain in my mindwas I that he was disloyal and that every stupid act of his had beendone a-purpose, that I could scarce control my desire to take him bythat thick, bull-throat of his and kick him into the river. 

For every stupid act or omission of his--or any single one ofthem--might yet send us all to our deaths. And their aggregate nowincensed me; for I could not see how we were entirely to escape theirconsequences. 

Again and again I was on the point of ordering a halt and having thefellow tried; but I dreaded the effect of such summary proceedings onthe Oneidas and the Stockbridge, whose sense of justice was keen, andwho might view with alarm such punishment meted out to mere stupidity. 

It was very evident that neither they nor my Mohican had come to anydefinite conclusion concerning the Wyandotte. And until they did so, and until I had the unerring authority of my Indians' opinions, I didnot care to go on record as either a brutal or a hasty officer. Indiansentertain profound contempt for the man who arrives hastily and lightlyat conclusions, without permitting himself leisure for deep anddignified reflection. 

And I was well aware that with these Indians the success of anyenterprise depended entirely upon their opinion of me, upon my personalinfluence with them. 

Dawn was breaking before the Sagamore turned his head toward me. I gavethe signal to halt. 

"The Ouleout, " whispered Tahoontowhee in my ear. "Here is itsconfluence with the Susquehanna. "

The Mohican nodded, saying that we now stood on a peninsula. 

I tried to make out the character of the hillock where we stood, but itwas not yet light enough to see whether the place was capable ofdefence, although it would seem to be, having two streams to flank it. 

"Sagamore, " said I, "you and I will stand guard for the first twohours. Sleep, you others. "

One after another unrolled his blanket and dropped where he stood. TheMohican came quietly toward me and sat down to watch the Susquehanna, his rifle across his knees. As for me, I dared not sit, much less lieflat, for fear sleep would overpower me. So I leaned against a rock, resting heavily on my rifle, and strained my sleepy eyes toward theinvisible Ouleout. A level stream of mist, slowly whitening, marked itscourse; and "The Voice that Continues" sounded dreamily among the treesthat bordered its shallow flood of crystal. 

Toward sunrise I caught the first glimmer of water; in fact, so nearwas I that I could hear the feeding trout splashing along the reaches, and the deer, one by one, retreating from the shore. 

Birds that haunt woodland edges were singing, spite of their moultingfever; and I heard the Scarlet Tanager, the sweet call of the CrimsonCardinal, the peeping of the Recollet chasing gnats above the water, the lovely, linked notes of the White-throat trailing to a minorinfinitely prolonged. 

Greyer, greyer grew the woods; louder sang the birds; suddenly adazzling shaft of pink struck the forest; the first shred of mistcurled, detached itself, and floated slowly upward. The sun had risen. 

Against the blinding glory, looming gigantic in the mist, I saw theSagamore, an awful apparition in his paint, turn to salute the risingsun. Then, the mysterious office of his priesthood done, he lifted hisrifle, tossed the heavy piece lightly to his shoulder, and strodetoward me. 

I shook the sleeping Oneidas, and, as they sprang to their feet, Ipointed out their posts to them, laid my rifle on my sack, and droppedwhere I stood like a lump of lead. 

I was aroused toward nine by the Mohican, and sat up as wide awake as adisturbed tree-cat, instantly ready for trouble. 

"An Oneida on the Ouleout, " he said. 

"Where?"

"Yonder--just across. "

"Friendly?"

"He has made the sign. "

"An ambassador?"

"A runner, not a belt-bearer. "

"Bring him to me. "

Strung along the banks of the Ouleout, each behind a tree, I saw myIndians crouching, rifles ready. Then, on the farther bank, at thewater's shallow edge, I saw the strange Indian--a tall, spare youngfellow, absolutely naked except clout, ankle moccasins, hatchet-girdle, and pouch; and wearing no paint except a white disc on his forehead thesize of a shilling. A single ragged frond hung from his scalp lock. 

Answering the signal of the Mohican, he sprang lightly into the streamand crossed the shallow water. My Oneidas seemed to know him, for theyaccosted him smilingly, and Tahoontowhee turned and accompanied himback toward the spot where I was standing, naively exhibiting to thestranger his first scalp. Which seemed to please the dusty andbrier-torn runner, for he was all smiles and animation until he caughtsight of me. Then instantly the mask of blankness smoothed hisfeatures, so that when I confronted him he was utterly withoutexpression. 

I held out my hand, saying quietly:

"Welcome, brother. "

"I thank my brother for his welcome, " he said, taking my offered hand. 

"My brother is hungry, " I said. "He shall eat. He is weary because hehas came a long distance. He shall rest unquestioned. " I seated myselfand motioned him to follow my example. 

The tall, lank fellow looked earnestly at me; Tahoontowhee lighted apipe, drew a deep, full inhalation from it, passed it to me. I drewtwice, passed it to the runner. Then Tahoontowhee laid a square of barkon the stranger's knees; I poured on it from my sack a little parchedcorn, well salted, and laid beside it a bit of dry and twisted meat. Tahoontowhee did the same. Then, very gravely and in silence we ate ourmorning meal with this stranger, as though he had been a friend of manyyears. 

"The birds sing sweetly, " observed Tahoontowhee politely. 

"The weather is fine, " said I urbanely. 

"The Master of Life pities the world He fashioned. All should givethanks to Him at sunrise, " said the runner quietly. 

The brief meal ended, Tahoontowhee laid his sack for a pillow; thestrange Oneida stretched out on the ground, laid his dusty head on it, and closed his eyes. The next moment he opened them and rose to hisfeet. The ceremony and hospitality devolving upon me had been formallyand perfectly accomplished. 

As I rose, free now to question him without losing dignity in his eyes, he slipped the pouch he wore around in front, where his heavy knife andhatchet hung, and drew from it some letters. 

Holding these unopened in my hand, I asked him who he was and from whomand whence he came. 

"I am Red Wings, a Thaowethon Oneida of Ironderoga, runner for GeneralClinton--and my credentials are this wampum string, so that you shallknow that I speak the truth!" And he whipped a string of red and blackwampum from his pouch and handed it to me. 

Holding the shining coil in my hands, I looked at him searchingly. 

"By what path did you come?"

"By no path. I left Otsego as you left, crossed the river where you hadcrossed, recrossed where you did not recross, but where a canoe hadlanded. "

"And then?"

"I saw the Mengwe, " he said politely, as the Sagamore came up besidehim. 

Mayaro smiled his appreciation of the Algonquin term, then he spat, saying:

"The Mengwe were Sinako and Mowawak. One has joined the Eel Clan. "

"The Red Wings saw him. The Cat-People of the Sinako sat in a circlearound that scalpless thing and sang like catamounts over their dead!"

It is impossible to convey the scorn, contempt, insult, and loathingexpressed by the Mohican and the Oneida, unless one truly understandthe subtlety of the words they used in speaking of their common enemies. 

"The Red Wings came by the Charlotte River?" I asked. 

"By the Cherry, Quenevas, and Charlotte to the Ouleout. The Mengwefired on me as I stood on a high cliff and mocked them. "

"Did they follow you?"

"Can my brother Loskiel trail feathered wings through the high airpaths? A little way I let them follow, then took wing, leaving them towhine and squall on the Susquehanna. "

"And Butler and McDonald?" I demanded, smiling. 

"I do not know. I saw white men's tracks on the Charlotte, not twohours old. They pointed toward the Delaware. The Minisink lies there. "

I nodded. "Now let the Red Wings fold his feathers and go to rest, " Isaid, "until I have read my letters and considered them. "

The Oneida immediately threw himself on the ground and drew his pouchunder his head. Before I could open my first letter, he was asleep andbreathing quietly as a child. And, on his naked shoulder, I saw a smearof balsam plastered over with a hazel leaf, where a bullet had left itsfurrow. He had not even mentioned that he had been hit. 

The first letter was from my General Clinton:

"Have a care, " he wrote, "that your Indians prove faithful. TheWyandotte I assigned to your command made a poor impression among ourOneida guides. This I hear from Major Parr, who came to tell me soafter you had left. Remember, too, that you and your Mohican are mostnecessary to General Sullivan. Interpreters trained by Guy Johnson areanything but plenty; and another Mohican who knows the truest route toCatharines-town is not to be had for whistling. "

This letter decided me to rid myself of the Wyandotte. Here wassufficient authority; time enough had elapsed since he had joined usfor me to come to a decision. Even my Indians could not consider myjudgment hasty now. 

I cast a cold glance at him, where he stood in the distance leaningagainst a huge walnut tree and apparently keeping watch across theOuleout. The Grey-Feather was watching there, too, and I had no doubtthat his wary eyes were fixed as often on the Wyandotte as on thewooded shore across the stream. 

A second letter was from Major Parr, and said:

"An Oneida girl called Drooping Wings, of whom you bought some trumperyor other, came to the fort after you had left, and told me that amongthe party in their camp was an adopted Seneca who had seen andrecognized your Wyandotte as a Seneca and not as a Huron. 

"Not that this information necessarily means that the Indian calledBlack-Snake is a traitor. He brought proper credentials from theofficer commanding at Pitt. But it is best that you know of this, andthat you feel free to use your judgment accordingly. "

"Yes, " said I to myself, "I'll use it. "

I took another long look at the suspect, then opened my third and lastletter. It was from Lois; and my heart beat the "general" so violentlythat for a moment it stopped my breath:

"Euan Loskiel, my comrade, and my dear friend: Since you have gone, news has come that our General Wayne, with twelve hundred lightinfantry, stormed and took Stony Point on the Hudson on the 15th ofthis past month. All the stores, arms, ammunition, and guns are ours, with more than five hundred prisoners. The joy at this post iswonderful to behold; our soldiers are mad with delight and cheer allday long. 

"Lieutenant Beatty tells me that we have taken fourteen pieces of goodordnance, seven hundred stand of arms, tents, rum, cheese, wine, and anumber of other articles most agreeable to recount. 

"On Wednesday morning last a sad affair; at Troop Beating three menwere brought out to be shot, all found guilty of desertion, one fromthe 4th Pennsylvania, one from the 6th Massachusetts, and one from the3rd New York. The troops were drawn up on the grand parade. Two of themen were reprieved by the General; the third was shot. .. . It meant moreto me, kneeling in my room with both hands over my ears to shut out thevolley, than it meant to those who witnessed the awful scene. Marchingback, the fifes and drums played 'Soldiers' Joy. ' I had forgotten tostop my ears, and heard them. 

"On Tuesday rain fell. News came at noon that Indians had surprised andkilled thirty-six haymakers near Fort Schuyler; and that other Indianshad taken fifteen or seventeen of our men who were gatheringblueberries at Sabbath Day Point. Whereupon Colonel Gansevoortimmediately marched for Canajoharie with his regiment, which had butjust arrived; and in consequence Betty Bleecker and Angelina aredesolate. 

"As you see from this letter, we have left Croghan's new house, and areliving at Otsego in a fine Bush House, and near to the place whereCroghan's old house stood before it was destroyed. 

"Sunday, after an all night rain, clear skies; and all the officerswere being schooled in saluting with the sword, the General looking on. In the afternoon the Chaplain, 'Parson' Gano, as the soldiers call him, gave us a sermon. I went with Betty and Angelina. Miss Helmer went onthe lake in a batteau with Mr. Boyd. The Rifles tried their guns on thelake, shooting at marks. Murphy and Elerson made no misses. 

"On Monday the officers had a punch, most respectable and gay. Weladies went with Major Parr, Lieutenant Boyd, and the Ensign you sodetest, to view the hilarity, but not to join, it being a sociableoccasion for officers only, the kegs of rum being offered by GeneralClinton--a gentleman not famed for his generosity in such matters. 

"This, Euan, is all the general news I have to offer, save that thearmy expects its marching orders at any moment now. 

"Euan, I am troubled in my heart. First, I must acquaint you that LanaHelmer and I have become friends. The night you left I was sitting inmy room, thinking; and Lana came in and drew my head on her shoulder. We said nothing to each other all that night, but slept together in myroom. And since then we have come to know each other very well in theway women understand each other. I love her dearly. 

"Euan, she will not admit it, but she is mad about Lieutenant Boyd--andit is as though she had never before loved and knows not how toconduct. Which is strange, as she has been so courted and is deeplyversed in experience, and has lived more free of restraint than mostwomen I ever heard of. Yet, it has taken her like a pernicious fever;and I do neither like nor trust that man, for all his good looks, andhis wit and manners, and the exceedingly great courage and militarysagacity which none denies him. 

"Yesterday Lana came to my little room in our Bush House, where I sleepon a bed of balsam, and we sat there, the others being out, and shetold me about Clarissa, and wept in the telling. What folly will not awoman commit for love! And Sir John riding the wilderness with hismurdering crew! May the Lord protect and aid all women from such birdso' passage and of prey! And I thought I had seen the pin-feathers ofsome such plumage on this man Boyd. But he may moult to a prettiercolour. I hope so--but in my heart I dare not believe it. For he is ofthat tribe of men who would have their will of every pretty petticoatthey notice. Some are less unscrupulous than others, that is the onlydifference. And he seems still to harbour a few scruples, judging fromwhat I see of him and her, and what I know of her. 

"Yet, if a man bear not his good intention plainly written on his face, and yet protests he dies unless you love him, what scruples he mayentertain will wither to ashes in the fiercer flame. And how after alldoes he really differ from the others?

"Euan, I am sick of dread and worry, what with you out in the West withyour painted scouts, and Mr. Boyd telling me that he has his doubtsconcerning the reliability of one o' them! And what with Lana so whiteand unhappy, and coming into my bed to cry against my breast atnight----"

Here the letter ended abruptly, and underneath in hurried writing:

"Major Parr calls to say that an Oneida runner is ordered to try tofind you with despatches from headquarters. I had expected to send thisletter by some one in your own regiment when it marched. But now Ishall intrust it to the runner. 

"I know not how to close my letter--how to say farewell--how to let youknow how truly my heart is yours. And becomes more so every hour. Norcan you understand how humbly I thank God for you--that you are whatyou are--and not like Sir John and--other men. 

"Women are of a multitude of kinds--until they love. Then they are ofbut two kinds. Of one of these kinds shall I be when I love. Not that Idoubt myself, yet, who can say what I shall be? Only three, Euan--God, the man who loves me, and myself. "

"I sit here waiting for a rifleman to take my letter to the General whohas promised to commit it to the runner. 

"A regiment is trying its muskets at the lake. I hear the firing. 

"I have a tallow dip and wax and sand, ready to close my letterinstantly. No one comes. "

"Lana comes, very tired and pale. Her eyes frighten me, they seem sotragic. I learn that the army marches on the 9th. Yet, you wentearlier, and I do not think my eyes resembled hers. "

"Soldiers passing, drums beating. A Pennsylvania regiment. Lana lies onmy bed, her face to the wall, scarce breathing at all, as far as I cansee. Conch-horns blowing--the strange and melancholy music of yourregiment. It seems to fill my heart with dread unutterable. "

"The runner is here! Euan--Euan! Come back to me!

 "Lois de Contrecoeur. "

My eyes fell from the letter to the sleeping runner stretched out at myfeet, then shifted vaguely toward the river. 

After a while I drew my tablets, quill, and ink-horn from my pouch, andsetting it on my knees wrote to her with a heart on fire, yet perfectlycontrolled. 

And after I had ended, I sealed the sheet with balsam, pricking theglobule from the tree behind me, and setting over it a leaf ofpartridge-berry. Also I wrote letters to General Clinton and to MajorParr, sealed them as I had sealed the other, and set a tiny, shiningleaf on each. 

Then, very gently I bent forward and aroused the Oneida runner. He satup, rubbed his eyes, then got to his feet smiling. And I consigned tohim my letters. 

The Mohican, on guard by the Susquehanna, was watching me; and as soonas the Red Wings had started on his return, and was well across theOuleout, I signalled the Sagamore to come to me, leaving the Mole andTahoontowhee by the Susquehanna. 

"Blood-brother of mine, " I said as he came up, "I ask counsel of awiser head and a broader experience than my own. What is to be donewith this Wyandotte?"

"Must that be decided now, Loskiel?"

"Now. Because the Unadilla lies below not far away, and beyond that theTioga. And I am charged to get myself thither in company with you assoon us may be. Now, what is a Sagamore's opinion of this Wyandotte?"

"Erie, " he said quietly. 

"You believe it?"

"I know it, Loskiel. "

"And the others--the Oneidas and the Stockbridge?"

"They are as certain as I am. "

"Good God! Then why have you not told me this before, Mayaro?"

"Is there haste?"

"Haste? Have I not said that we march immediately? And you would havelet me give my order and include that villain in it!"

"Why not? It is an easier and safer way to take a prisoner to TiogaPoint than to drag him thither tied. "

"But he may escape----"

The Sagamore gave me an ironic glance. 

"Is it likely, " he said softly, "when we are watching?"

"But he may manage to do us a harm. You saw how cunningly he has keptup communication with our enemies, to leave a trail for them to follow. "

"He has done us what harm he is able, " said the Sagamore coolly. 

I hesitated, then asked him what he meant. 

"Why, " he said, "their scouts have followed us. There are two of themnow across the Susquehanna. "

Thunderstruck, I stared at the river, where its sunlit surfaceglittered level through the trees. 

"Do the others know this?" I asked. 

"Surely, Loskiel. "

I looked at my Indians where they lay flat behind their trees, riflespoised, eyes intent on the territory in front of them. 

"If my brother does not desire to bring the Wyandotte to GeneralSullivan, I will go to him now and kill him, " said the Mohicancarelessly. 

"He ought to hang, " I said between my teeth. 

"Yes. It is the most dreadful death a Seneca can die. He would preferthe stake and two days' torture. Loskiel is right. The Erie has been apriest of Amochol. Let him die by the rope he dreads more than thestake. For all Indians fear the rope, Loskiel, which chokes them sothat they can not sing their death-song. There is not one of us who hasnot courage to sing his death-song at the stake; but who can sing whenhe is being choked to death by a rope?"

I nodded, looking uneasily toward the river where the two Seneca spieslurked unseen as yet by me. 

"Let the men sling their packs, " I said. 

"They have done so, Loskiel. "

"Very well. Our order of march will be the same as yesterday. We keepthe Wyandotte between us. "

"That is wisdom. "

"Is it to be a running fight, Mayaro?"

"Perhaps, if their main body comes up. "

"Then we had best start across the Ouleout, unless you mean to ford theSusquehanna. "

The Sagamore shook his head with a grimace, saying that it would beeasier to swim the Susquehanna at Tioga than to ford it here. 

Very quietly we drew in or picked up our pickets, including theruffianly Wyandotte, or Erie, as he was now judged to be, and, filingas we had filed the night before we crossed the Ouleout and entered theforest. 

Two hours later the Oneida in the rear, Tahoontowhee, reported that theSeneca scouts were on our heels, and asked permission to try for ascalp. 

By noon he had taken his second scalp, and had received his firstwound, a mere scratch from a half-ounce ball, below the knee. But hewore it and the scalp with a dignity unequalled by any monarch loadedwith jewelled orders. 

"Some day, " said the Sagamore in my ear, "Tahoontowhee will accept theantlers and the quiver. "

"He would be greater yet if he accepted Christ, " said the Stockbridgequietly. 

We had halted to breathe, and were resting on our rifles as the Mohicansaid this; and I was looking at the Stockbridge who so quietly hadconfessed his Master, when of a sudden the Wyandotte, who had beenleaning against a tree, straightened up, turned his head over hisshoulder, stared intently at something which we could not see, and thenpointed in silence. 

So naturally was it done that we all turned also. Then, like athunder-bolt, his hatchet flew, shearing the raccoon's tail from mycap, and struck the Stockbridge Indian full between the eyes, dashinghis soul into eternity. 

CHAPTER XIII

THE HIDDEN CHILDREN

So silently, suddenly, and with such incredible swiftness had thishappened, and so utterly unprepared were we for this devilish audacity, that the Erie had shoved his trade-rifle against my ribs and firedbefore anybody comprehended what he was about. 

But he had driven the muzzle so violently against me that the blowknocked me breathless and flat on my face, and his rifle, slippingalong with the running swivel of my pouch buckle, was discharged, blowing the pouch-flap to fragments, and setting fire to my thrumswithout even scorching my body. 

As, partly stunned, I lay on the moss, choking in the powder smoke, myhead still ringing with the crash of the old smooth-bore, man after manleaped over me like frantic deer, racing at full speed toward theriver. And I swayed to my knees, to my feet, and staggered after them, beating out the fire on my smoking fringes as I ran. 

The Erie took the bank at one bound, struck the river sand like a ball, and bounded on. Both Oneidas shot at him, and I tried to wing him inmid-stream, but my hands were unsteady from the shock, and he wentunder like a diver-duck, drifted to the surface under the willows farbelow, and was out and among them before we could fire again. 

The sight of him tore a yell of fury from the Oneidas' throats; but theMohican, rifle a-trail, was speeding low and swiftly, and we sprangforward in his tracks. 

A few moments later the Sagamore gave tongue to the fierce, hystericalview-halloo of his Wolf Clan; the Oneidas answered till the forest rangwith the dreadful tumult of the pack-cry. Then, as I ran up breathlessto where they were crouching, a more terrible whoop burst from them. The quarry was at bay. 

It was where the river turned south, making a vast and glassy bay. Asmooth cliff hung over it, wet and shining with the water from hiddensprings, and sheering down into profound and limpid depths. 

High on the face of the cliff, squatted on a narrow shelf, and hiddenby the rocky formation, our quarry had taken cover. The twisted strandsof a wild grapevine, severed by his knife, hung dangling below hiseyrie, betraying his mode of ascent. He had gone up hand over hand, aided by his powerful shoulder muscles and by his feet, which must havestuck like the feet of flies to the perpendicular wall of rock. 

To follow him, even with the aid of the vine he had severed, had beenhopeless in the face of his rifle fire. A thousand men could not havetaken him that way, while his powder and lead held out, for they wouldhave been obliged to ascend one by one in slow and painful file, and hehad but to shove his gun-muzzle in their faces as they appeared. 

The war-yelps of the Oneidas had subtly changed their timbre so thatever amid the shrill yelling I marked the guttural snarls of baffledrage. The Mohican lay on his belly behind a tree, silent, but his eyeswere like coals in their red intensity. 

Presently the Oneidas, lying prone at our side, ceased their tumult andbecame silent. And for a long while we lay waiting for a shot. 

All this time the Erie had given no sign of life, and I had begun tohope that he had been hit and would ultimately perish there, as wildthings perish in solitude and silence. 

Then the Mohican said in my ear:

"Unless we can stir him to move and expose himself, we must lose him. For his fellows will surely track us to this place. "

"Good God! By what unfortunate accident should such a hiding placeexist so near!" I said miserably. 

The Sagamore's stern visage slightly relaxed. 

"It is no accident, Loskiel. Do you not suppose he knew it was here?Else he had never dared attempt what he did. "

"The vile Witch-cat has been here many a time, " said the Grey-Feather, his ferocious gaze fixed on the cliff. 

"Is the Mole dead?" I asked. 

"He is with his God--Tharon or Christ, whichever it may be, Loskiel. "

"The Mole must not be scalped, " said Tahoontowhee softly. "If theSenecas pass that way they will have at last one thing to boast of. "

I said to the Mohican:

"Hold the Erie. The Night-Hawk and I will go back and bury our deadagainst Seneca profanation. "

"Let the Grey-Feather go, Loskiel. "

"No. The Mole was Christian. Does a Christian fail his own kind at thelast?"

"Loskiel has spoken, " said the Mohican gravely. "The Grey-Feather and Iwill hold the filthy cat. "

So we went back together across the river, the young Oneida and I; andwe hid the Mole deep in the bed of a rotting log, and laid hisTestament on his breast over the painted cross, and his weapons besidehim. Then, working cautiously, we rolled back the log, replaced thedead leaves, brushed up the deep green pile of the moss, and smoothedall as craftily us we might, so that no Seneca prowling might suspectthat a grave was here, and disinter the dead to take his scalp. 

Over the blood-wet leaves where he had fallen, we made a fire of drytwigs, letting it burn enough to deceive. Then we covered it as hunterscover their ashes; the Oneida took the Erie's hatchet; and we hastenedback to the others. 

They were still lying exactly where we left them. Neither the Erie northey had stirred or spoken. And, as I settled down in my ambush besidethe Mohican, I asked him again whether there was any possible way toprovoke the Erie so that he might stir and expose some portion of hislimbs or body. 

The Night-Hawk, who carried strapped to his back the quiver of anOneida adolescent containing a boy's short bow and a dozen game arrows, consulted with the Grey-Feather in a low voice. 

Presently he wriggled off to where some sun-dried birch-bark flutteredin the river breeze, returned with it, shredded it with care, strunghis bow, tipped an arrow with the bark, and held it out to me. 

I struck flint to steel, lighted my tinder, and set the shred of barkafire. 

Then the Night-Hawk knelt, bent his bow, and the blazing arrow soaredwhistling with flame, and fell behind the rock on the shelf. 

Arrow after arrow followed, whizzing upward and dropping accurately;but the wet mosses of the cliff extinguished the flashes. 

As the last arrow fell, flared a moment, then merely smoked, aninsulting laugh came from aloft, and my Indians uttered fierceexclamations and cuddled their rifle-stocks close to their cheeks, fairly trembling for a shot. 

"Dogs of Oneidas!" called the Erie. "Go howl for your dead pig of aStockbridge slave. "

"The Mole wears his scalp with Tharon!" retorted the Grey-Feather, choking with fury. "But Tahoontowhee's hatchet is still sticking in theSenecas' heads!"

"For which the Night-Hawk shall burn at the Seneca stake, sobbing hisdeath-song!" shouted the Erie, so fiercely that for a moment we laysilent, hoping that by some ungovernable movement he might exposehimself. 

"Taunt him!" I whispered; and the Mohican said with a derisive laugh:

"Four scalp-tufts from the mangy Cats of Amochol trim myhatchet-sheath. When the young men ask me what this sparse and sicklyfur may be, I shall strip it off and cast it at their feet, saying itis but Erie filth to spit upon. "

"Liar of a conquered nation!" roared the Erie, "for every priest ofAmochol who fell by Otsego under your cowardly butcher's knife, aSiwanois Sagamore shall burn three days, and yet live to die thefourth! The day that August dies, so shall the Sagamore die at theFestival of Dreams in Catharines-town!"

"I shall remember, " said I in a low voice to the Sagamore, "that theOnon-hou-aroria is to be celebrated in Catharines-town on the last dayof August. "

He nodded, then:

"A Mohican Sagamore insults a dirty priest of Amochol! I do you honourby offering you battle, with knife, with hatchet, with rifle, withnaked hands! Choose, spawn of Atensi--still-born kitten of Iuskeha, choose! Not one soul except myself will raise hand against you. ByTharon, I swear it! Choose! And the victor passes freely and whither hewills!"

The Erie mocked him from his high perch:

"Squirrels talk! Long since has your Tharon been hurled headlong intoBiskoonah by Atensi and her flaming grandson!"

At this awful blasphemy, the Mohican fairly blanched so that under hispaint his skin grew ashy for a moment. 

The Grey-Feather shouted:

"Lying and degraded priest! Mowawak Cannibal of a Sinako Cat! It isAtensi herself who burns with Iuskeha in Biskoonah; and thesacrilegious fires lick your altars!"

The Erie laughed horribly:

"Where is your fool of a stripling called Loskiel? Is he there withyou? Or did my hatchet fetch him such a clip that he died of fright anda bullet in his belly?"

"He is unharmed, " replied the Mohican, tauntingly. "A squaw shootsbetter than a Cat!"

"A lie! I saw my rifle blow a hole in his body!"

"Hatchet and rifle failed. The Ensign, Loskiel, laughed, asking whatforest-flies were buzzing at his ear. Loskiel spits on Cats, andbrushes their flying hatchets from his ears as others brush mosquitos!"

"Let him speak, then, to prove it!" shouted the Erie, incredulously. 

But I remained silent. 

Then the Erie's ferocious laugh rang out from the cliff. 

"Now, you Mohican slave and you Oneida dogs, you shall know the powerof Amochol. For what was done to Loskiel and to the Praying Mole, willbe done to you all on the last day of this month, when the Dream Feastis held at Catharines-town! You shall die. And others shall die--not asyou, but on the red altar of the Great Sachem Amochol! Strangled, disemboweled, sacrificed to clothe Atensi!"

The Grey-Feather, unable any longer to retain his self-control, wasgetting to his feet, staring wildly up at the cliff; but the Mohicandrew him back into his form and held him there with powerful grip. 

"Listen, " he hissed, "to what this warlock blabbs. "

The Erie laughed, evidently awaiting a retort. None came, and helaughed again triumphantly. 

"Amochol's arm is long, O you Oneida dogs who howl outside the LongHouse gates! Amochol's eyes are like the white-crested eagle's eyes, seeing everything, and his ears are like the red buck's ears, so thatnothing stirs unheard by him. 

"Phantoms arise and walk at night; Amochol sees. Under earth and water, demons are breathing; Amochol hears. Then we Eries listen, too, andmake the altar fires burn hotter. For the ghosts of the night and thedemons that stir must be fed. "

He waited again, doubtless expecting some exclamation of protestagainst his monstrous profession. After a moment he went on:

"Spectres and demons must be fed--but not on the foul flesh of dogslike you! We cut your throats to feed the Flying Heads. "

He paused; and as no reply was forthcoming, the sorcerer laughedscornfully. 

"Your blood becomes water! You cringe at the power of Amochol. But thered altar is not for you. Listen, dogs! Had I not found it necessary toslay your stripling, Loskiel, he had been burned and strangled an thataltar!. .. And there is another at Otsego who shall die strangled on thealtar of Amochol--the maiden called Lois! Long have we followed her. Long is the arm of the Red Priest--when his White Sorceress dreams forhim!

"And now you know, you Mohican mongrel, why Amochol was at Otsego. Hisarm reaches even into the barracks of Clinton! Because to Atensi thesacrifice of these two would be grateful--the maiden Lois and yourLoskiel. Only the pure and guarded pleasure her. And these two areHidden Children. One has died. The other shall not escape us. She shalldie strangled by Amochol upon his own altar!"

I sat up, sick with horror and surprise, and stared at the Mohican foran explanation. He and the Oneidas were now looking at me very gravelyand in silence. And after a moment my head dropped. 

I knew well enough what the brutal Erie meant by "Hidden Children. " Butthat I was one I never dreamed, nor had it occurred to me that Lois wasone, in spite of her strange history. For among the Iroquois and theiradopted captives there are both girls and boys who are spoken of as"Hidden Persons" or "Hidden Children. " They are calledTa-neh-u-weh-too, which means, "hidden in the husks, " like ears of corn. 

And the reason is this: a mother, for one cause or another, or perhapsfor none at all, decides to make of her unborn baby a Hidden Child. Andso, when born, the child is instantly given to distant foster-parents, and by them hidden; and remains so concealed until adolescence. And, being considered from birth pure and unpolluted, a girl and a boy thushidden are expected to marry, return to their people when informed bytheir foster-parents of the truth, and bring a fresh, innocent, anduncontaminated strain into their clan and tribe. 

What the Erie said seemed to stun me. What did this foul creature knowof me? What knowledge had this murdering beast of Lois? AndAmochol--what in God's name did the Red Sorcerer know of us, or of ourhistory?

Even the horrid threat against Lois seemed so fantastic, so unreal, someaningless, that at the moment, it did not impress me even with itsunspeakable wickedness. 

The Sagamore touched my arm as though with awe and pity, and I liftedmy head. 

"Is this true, brother?" he asked gently. 

"I do not know if it is, " I said, dazed. 

"Then--it is the truth. "

"Why do you say that, Mayaro?"

"I know it, now. I suspected it when your eyes first fell on theGhost-bear rearing on my breast. I thought I knew you, there at MajorLockwood's house in Poundridge. It was your name, Loskiel, and yourknowledge of your red brothers, that stirred my suspicions. And when Ilearned that Guy Johnson had sheltered you, then I was surer still. "

"Who, then, am I?" I asked, bewildered. 

The three Indians were staring at me as though that murderer aloft onhis eyrie did not exist. I, too, had forgotten him for the moment; andit was only the loud explosion of his smooth-bore that shocked us tothe instant necessity of the situation. 

The bullet screamed through the leaves above us; we clapped our riflesto our cheeks, striving to glimpse him. Nothing moved on the rockyshelf. 

"He fired to signal his friends, " whispered the Mohican. "He mustbelieve them to be within hearing distance. "

I set my teeth and stared savagely at the cliff. 

"If that is so, " said I, "we must leave him here and pull foot. "

There was a tense silence, then, as we rose, an infuriated yell burstfrom the Oneidas, and in their impotence they fired blindly at thecliff, awaking a very hell of echo. 

Through the clattering confusion of the double discharge, the demoniaclaughter of the Erie rang, and my Oneidas, retreating, hurled backinsult and anathema, promising to return and annihilate every livingsorcerer in the Dark Empire, including Amochol himself. 

"Ha-e!" he shouted after us, giving the evil spirits' cry. "Ha-e!Ha-ee!" From his shelf he cast a painted stick after us, which camehurtling down and landed in the water. And he screamed as he heard usthreshing over the shallows: "Koue! Askennon eskatoniot!"

The thing he had cast after us was floating, slowly turning round andround in the water; and it seemed to be a stick something thicker thanan arrow and as long, and painted in concentric rings of black, vermillion, and yellow. 

Then, as we gave it wide berth, to our astonishment it suddenlycrinkled up and was alive, and lifted a tiny, evil head from the water, running out at us a snake's tongue that flickered. 

That this was magic my Indians never doubted. They gave the thing onehorrified glance, turned, and fairly leaped through the water till theshallow flood roared as though a herd of deer were passing over. 

As for me, I ran, too, and felt curiously weak and shaken; though Isuspected that this wriggling thing now swimming back to shore was thepoison snake of the Ksaurora, and no Antouhonoran witchcraft at all, asI had seen skins of the brilliant and oddly marked little serpent atGuy Park, whither some wandering Southern Tuscaroras had brought them. 

But the bestial creature of the cliff had now so inspired us all withloathing that it was as though our very breath was poisoned; and inswift and silent file we pushed forward, as if the very region--land, water, the air itself--had become impure, and we must rid ourselves ofthe place itself to breathe. 

No war-party burning to distinguish itself ever travelled more swiftly. Sooner than I expected, we crossed the small creek which joins theriver from the east, opposite the Old England District, and saw theruins of Unadilla across the water. 

Here was a known ford; and we crossed to Old Unadilla, where thatpretty river and the Butternut run south into the broadeningSusquehanna. 

At this place we halted to eat; and I was of two minds whether to go bythe West Branch of the Delaware, by Owaga and Ingaren across theStanwix Treaty Line to Wyalusing, and from thence up the river to theChemung and Tioga Point; or to risk the Chenango country and travelsouthwest by Owego, and so cutting off that great southern loop thatthe Susquehanna makes through the country of the Esaurora. 

But when I asked the opinion of my Indians, they were of one mindagainst my two, saying that to follow the river was the easiest, swiftest, and safest course to Tioga Point. 

They knew better than did I. This side of Tioga the Oneidas knew theground as well as the Siwanois; but beyond, toward Catharines-town, only my Siwanois knew. Indeed, if my Oneidas remained with me at allbeyond Tioga I might deem myself lucky, in such dread and detestationdid they hold that gloomy region where the Wyoming Witch brooded herdeadly crew, and where the Toad Woman, her horrible sister, fed thesecret and midnight fires of hell with the Red Priest, Amochol. 

A grey hawk was circling above us mewing. Truly, our nerves had beensomewhat shattered, for as we rose and resumed pack and sack, a distantpartridge drumming on his log startled us all; and it was as though wehad thought to hear the witch-drums rolling at the Onon-hou-aroria, andthe hawk mewing seemed like the Sorcerers calling "Hiou! Hiou! Hiou!"And the Unadilla made a clatter over its stones like the False-Facesrattling their wooden masks. 

"Eheu!" sighed the pines above us as we sped on; and ever I thought ofOkwencha and the Dead Hunter. And the upward roar of a partridge coveybursting in thunder through the river willows was like the flight ofthe hideous Flying Heads. 

On we went, every sound and movement of the forest seeming to spur usforward and add flight-feathers to our speeding feet. For in myIndians, ascendant now, was the dull horror of the supernatural; and asfor me my hatred of the Sorcerers was tightening every nerve to thepoint of breaking. 

As I travelled that trail through the strange, eternal twilight of thegreat trees, I vowed to myself that Amochol should die; that theSagamore and I would guide a thousand rifles to his pagan altar and laythis foul priesthood prone upon it as the last sacrifice. 

Then I recalled the Black-Snake's threat against Lois; and shuddered;then the astounding reason he had given for the Red Priest's designupon us both set me dully wondering again. 

Fear that his emissaries might penetrate our lines stirred me; and Iremembered the moccasins she had received, and the messages sewedwithin them. If a red messenger had found her every year and had leftat her door, unseen, a pair of moccasins, why might not an invisibleassassin find her, too? Already, within our very encampment, she hadreceived another pair of moccasins and a message entirely differentfrom the customary one. 

Whoever had brought it had come and gone unseen. 

Distressed, perplexed, half sick with fear for her, I plodded on behindthe Mohican, striving to drive from me the sombre thoughts assailingme, trying to reassure myself with the knowledge that she was safe atOtsego with her new friends, and that very shortly now she would bestill safer in Albany, and under the shrewd and kindly eye of Mr. Hake. 

The sun had set; the pallid daylight lingering along the forest edgesby the river grew sickly and died. And after a little the Mohicanhalted on a hillock, and we cart our packs from us and peered around. 

The forms of rocks took dim shape all about us, huge slabs and benchesof stone, from which great bushes of laurel and rhododendron spread, forming beyond us an entangled and impenetrable jungle. 

And under these we crawled and lay, listening for snakes. But thereseemed to be none there, though our rocky fastness was a very likelyplace. And after we had eaten and emptied our canteens, the two Oneidaswent out on guard to the eastern limit of the rocks; and the Sagamoreand I lay on our sides, facing each other in the dark. And for a whilewe lay there, neither of us speaking. Finally I said under my breath:

"Then I am one of the Hidden People. "

"Yes, brother, " he replied very gently. 

"Tell me why you believe this to be true. Tell me all you know. "

For a little while the Mohican lay there very silent, and I did notstir. And presently he said:

"It was in '57, Loskiel, when I first laid eyes on you. "

"What!"

"I am more than twice your age. You were then three years old. "

In my astonishment it occurred to me that instead of twenty-two I wasnow twenty-five years of age, if what the Mohican said were true. 

"Listen, Loskiel, blood-brother of mine, for you shall hear the truthnow--the truth which Guy Johnson never told you. 

"It was in '57; Munro lay at Fort William Henry; Webb at Fort Edward;and Montcalm came down from the lakes with his white-coats and Huronsand shook his sword at Munro and spat upon Webb. 

"Then came Sir William Johnson to Webb with half a thousand Iroquois. And because Sir William was the only white man we Delawares trusted, and in spite of his Iroquois, three Mohicans offered theirservices--the Great Serpent, young Uncas, and I, Mayaro, Sagamore ofthe Siwanois. "

He paused, then with infinite contempt:

"Webb was a coward. Nor could Sir William kick him forward. He layshivering behind the guns at Edward; and Fort William Henry fell. Andthe white-coats could do nothing with their Hurons; the prisoners fellunder their knives and hatchets--soldiers, women, little children. 

"When Montcalm had gone, Webb let us loose. And, following the trail ofmurder, in a thicket among the rocks we came upon a young woman with achild, very weak from privation. Guy Johnson and I discovered them--hea mere youth at that time. 

"And the young woman told him how it had been with her--that herhusband and herself had been taken by the St. Regis three yearsbefore--that they had slain her husband but had offered her noviolence; that her child had been born a few weeks later and that theSt. Regis chief who took her had permitted her to make of it a HiddenPerson. 

"For three years the fierce St. Regis chief wooed her, offering her thefirst place in his lodge. For three years she refused him, living in abush-hut alone with her child, outside the St. Regis village, fed bythem, and her solitude respected. Then Munro came and his soldiersscattered the St. Regis and took her and her baby to the fort. And theSt. Regis chief sent word that he would kill her if she ever married. "

So painfully intent was I on his every low-spoken word that I scarcedared breathe as the story of my mother slowly unfolded. 

"Guy Johnson and I took the young woman and her child to Edward, " hesaid. "Her name was Marie Loskiel, and she told us that she was thewidow of a Scotch fur trader, one Ian Loskiel, of Saint Sacrament. "

There was another silence, as though he were not willing to continue. Then in a quiet voice I bade him speak; and he spoke, very gravely:

"Your mother's religion and Guy Johnson's were different. If that werethe reason she would not marry him I do not know. Only that when hewent away, leaving her at Edward, they both wept. I was standing by hisstirrup; I saw him--and her. 

"And--he rode away, Loskiel. .. . Why she tried to follow him the nextspring, I do not know. .. . Perhaps she found that love was stronger thanreligion. .. . And after all the only difference seemed to be that sheprayed to the mother of the God he prayed to. .. . We spoke of ittogether, the Great Serpent, young Uncas, and I. And Uncas told usthis. But the Serpent and I could make nothing of it. 

"And while Guy Johnson was at Edward, only he and I and your motherever saw or touched you. .. . And ever you were tracing with your babyfingers the great Ghost Bear rearing on my breast----"

"Ah!" I exclaimed sharply. "That is what I have struggled to remember!"

He drew a deep, unsteady breath:

"Do you better understand our blood-brotherhood now, Loskiel?"

"I understand--profoundly. "

"That is well. That is as it should be, O my blood-brother, pure frombirth, and at adolescence undefiled. Of such Hidden Ones were theWhite-Plumed Sagamores. Of such was Tamanund, the Silver-Plumed; andthe great Uncas, with his snowy-winged and feathered head--HiddenPeople, Loskiel--without stain, without reproach. 

"And as it was to be recorded on the eternal wampum, you were found atGuy Johnson's landing place asleep beside a stranded St. Regis canoe;and your dead mother lay beside you with a half ounce ball through herheart. The St. Regis chief had spoken. "

"Why do you think he slew her?" I whispered. 

"Strike flint. It is safe here. "

I drew myself to my elbow, struck fire and blew the tinder to a glow. 

"This is yours, " he said. And laid in my hand a tiny, lacquered folderstriped with the pattern of a Scotch tartan. 

Wondering, I opened it. Within was a bit of wool in which stillremained three rusted needles. And across the inside cover was writtenin faded ink:

"Marie Loskiel. "

"How came you by this?" I stammered, the quick tears blinding me. 

"I took it from the St. Regis hunter whom Tahoontowhee slew. "

"Was he my mother's murderer!"

"Who knows?" said the Sagamore softly. "Yet, this needle-book is a poorthing for an Indian to treasure--and carry in a pouch around his neckfor twenty years. "

The glow-worm spark in my tinder grew dull and went out. For a longwhile I lay there, thinking, awed by the ways of God--so certain, soinscrutable. And understood how at the last all things must berevealed--even the momentary and lightest impulse, and every deepestand most secret thought. 

Lying there, I asked of the Master of Life His compassion on us all, and said my tremulous and silent thanks to Him for the dear, sad secretthat His mercy had revealed. 

And, my lips resting on my mother's needle-book, I thought of Lois, andhow like mine in a measure was her strange history, not yet fullyrevealed. 

"Sagamore, my elder brother?" I said at last. 

"Mayaro listens. "

"How is it then with Lois de Contrecoeur that you already knew she wasof the Hidden Children?"

"I knew it when I first laid eyes on her, Loskiel. "

"By what sign?"

"The moccasins. She lay under a cow-shed asleep in her red cloak, herhead on her arms. Beside her the kerchief tied around her bundle layunknotted, revealing the moccasins that lay within. I saw, and knew. And for that reason have I been her friend. "

"You told her this?"

"Why should I tell her?"

There was no answer to this. An Indian is an Indian. 

I said after a moment:

"What mark is there on the moccasins that you knew them?"

"The wings, worked in white wampum. A mother makes a pair with wingseach year for her Hidden One, so that they will bring her little childto her one day, swiftly and surely as the swallow that returns withspring. "

"Has she told you of these moccasins--how every year a pair of them isleft for her, no matter where she may be lodged?"

"She has told me. She has shown me the letter on bark which was foundwith her; the relics of her father; this last pair of moccasins, andthe new message written within. And she asked me to guide her toCatharines-town. And I have refused. 

"No, Loskiel, I have never doubted that she was of the Hidden People. And for that reason have I been patient and kind when she has beset mewith her pleading that I show to her the trail to Catharines-town. 

"But I will not. For although in rifle dress she might go with us--nay, nor do I even doubt that she might endure the war-path as well as anystripling eager for honour and his first scalp taken--I will not haveher blood upon my hands. 

"For if she stir thither--if she venture within the Great Shadow--theghouls of Amochol will know it. And they will take her and slay her ontheir altar, spite of us all--spite of you and me and your generals andcolonels, and all your troops and riflemen--spite of your whole armyand its mighty armament, I say it--I, a Siwanois Mohican of theEnchanted Clan. A Sagamore has spoken. "

Chill after chill crept over me so that I shook as I lay there in thedarkness "Who is this maiden, Lois?" I asked. 

"Do you not guess, Loskiel?"

"Vaguely. "

"Then listen, brother. Her grandfather was the great Jean Coeur whomarried the white daughter of the Chevalier de Clauzun. Her mother wasMlle. Jeanne Coeur; her father the young Vicomte de Contrecoeur, of theRegiment de la Reine--not that stupid Captain Contrecoeur of theregiment of Languedoc, who, had it depended on him, would never haveventured to attack Braddock at all. 

"This is true, because I knew them both--both of these Contrecoeurcaptains. And the picture she showed to me was that of the officer inthe Regiment de la Reine. 

"I saw that regiment die almost to a man. I saw Dieskau fall; I sawthat gay young officer, de Contrecoeur, who had nicknamed himself JeanCoeur, laugh at our Iroquois as he stood almost alone--almost the lastman living, among his fallen white-coats. 

"And I saw him dead, Loskiel--the smile still on his dead lips, and hiseyes still open and clear and seeming to laugh up at the white cloudssailing, which he could not see. 

"That was the man she showed me painted on polished bone. "

"And--her mother?" I asked. 

"I can only guess, Loskiel, for I never saw her. But I believe she musthave been with the army. Somehow, Sir William's Senecas got hold of herand took her to Catharines-town. And if the little Lois was born thereor at Yndaia, or perhaps among the Lakes before the mother was madeprisoner, I do not know. Only this I gather, that when the Cats ofAmochol heard there was a child, they demanded it for a sacrifice. Andthere must have been some Seneca there--doubtless some adopted Senecaof a birth more civilized--who told the mother, and who was persuadedby her to make of it a Hidden One. 

"How long it lay concealed, and in whose care, how can I know? But itis certain that Amochol learned that it had been hidden, and sent hisCat-People out to prowl and watch. Then, doubtless did the mother sendit from her by the faithful one whose bark letter was found by the newfoster-parents when they found the little Lois. 

"And this is how it has happened, brother. And that the Cat-People nowknow she is alive, and who she is, does not amaze me. For they aresorcerers, and if one of them did not steal after the messenger when heleft Yndaia with the poor mother's yearly gift of moccasins, then itwas discovered by witchcraft. "

"For Amochol never forgets. And whom the Red Priest chooses for hisaltar sooner or later will surely die there, unless the Sorcerer diesfirst and his Cat-People are slain and skinned, and the vile altar isdestroyed among the ashes of its accursed fire!"

"Then, with the help of an outraged God, these righteous things shallcome to pass!" I said between clenched teeth. 

The Sagamore sat with his crested head bowed. And if he were in ghostlycommunication with the Mighty Dead I do not know, for I heard himbreathe the name of Tamanund, and then remain silent as thoughlistening for an answer. 

I had been asleep but a few moments, it seemed to me, when theGrey-Feather awoke me for my turn at guard duty; and the Mohican and Irose from our blankets, reprimed our rifles, crept out from under thelaurel and across the shadowy rock-strewn knoll to our posts. 

The rocky slope below us was almost clear to the river, save for a bushor two. 

Nothing stirred, no animals, not a leaf. And after a while the profoundstillness began to affect me, partly because the day had been one totry my nerves, partly because the silence was uncanny, even to me. AndI knew how dread of the supernatural had already tampered with thesteadiness of my red comrades--men who were otherwise utterly fearless;and I dreaded the effect on the Mohican, whose mind now was surchargedwith hideous and goblin superstitions. 

In the night silence of a forest, always there are faint sounds to beheard which, if emphasizing the stillness, somehow soften it too. Leaves fall, unseen, whispering downward from high trees, and settlingamong their dead fellows with a faintly comfortable rustle. Smallanimals move in the dark, passing and repassing warily; one hears thehigh feathered ruffling and the plaint of sleepy birds; breezes playwith the young leaves; water murmurs. 

But here there was no single sound to mitigate the stillness; and, hadI dared in my mossy nest behind the rocks, I would have contrived sameslight stirring sound, merely to make the silence more endurable. 

I could see the river, but could not hear it. From where I lay, closeto the ground, the trees stood out in shadowy clusters against thevague and hazy mist that spread low over the water. 

And, as I lay watching it, without the slightest warning, a head waslifted from behind a bush. It was the head of a wolf in silhouetteagainst the water. 

Curiously I watched it; and as I looked, from another bush another headwas lifted--the round, flattened head and tasselled ears of the greatgrey lynx. And before I could realize the strangeness of theirproximity to each other, these two heads were joined by a third--thesnarling features of a wolverine. 

Then a startling and incredible thing happened; the head of the bigtimber-wolf rose still higher, little by little, slowly, stealthily, above the bush. And I saw to my horror that it had the body of a man. And, already overstrained as I was, it was a mercy that I did not faintwhere I lay behind my rock, so ghastly did this monstrous vision seemto me. 

CHAPTER XIV

NAI TIOGA!

How my proper senses resisted the swoon that threatened them I do notknow; but when the lynx, too, lifted a menacing and flattened head onhuman shoulders; and when the wolverine also stood out in human-likeshadow against the foggy water, I knew that these ghostly things thatstirred my hair were no hobgoblins at all, but living men. And theclogged current of my blood flowed free again, and the sweat on my skincooled. 

The furry ears of the wolf-man, pricked up against the vaguely lustrousbackground of the river, fascinated me. For all the world those pointedears seemed to be listening. But I knew they were dead and dried; thata man's eyes were gazing through the sightless sockets of the beast. 

From somewhere in the darkness the Mohican came gliding on his bellyover the velvet carpet of the moss. 

"Andastes, " he whispered scornfully; "they wear the heads of the beastswhose courage they lack. Fling a stone among them and they willscatter. "

As I felt around me in the darkness for a fragment of loose rock, theMohican arrested my arm. 

"Wait, Loskiel. The Andastes hang on the heels of fiercer prowlers, smelling about dead bones like foxes after a battle. Real men can notbe far away. "

We lay watching the strange and grotesque creatures in the starlight;and truly they seemed to smell their way as beasts smell; and they wereas light-footed and as noiseless, slinking from bush to bush, lurkingmotionless in shadows, nosing, listening, prowling on velvet pads tothe very edges of our rock escarpment. 

"They have the noses of wild things, " whispered the Mohican uneasily. "Somewhere they have found something that belongs to one of us, and, having once smelled it, have followed. "

I thought for a moment. 

"Do you believe they found the charred fragments of my pouch-flap?Could they scent my scorched thrums from where I now lie? Only a houndcould do that! It is not given to men to scent a trail as beasts scentit running perdu. "

The Mohican said softly:

"Men of the settlement detect no odour where those of the open perceivea multitude of pungent smells. "

"That is true, " I said. 

"It is true, Loskiel. As a dog scents water in a wilderness and comesto it from afar, so can I also. Like a dog, too, can I wind the hiddenpartridge brood--though never the nesting hen--nor can a mink do thatmuch either. But keen as the perfume of a bee-tree, and certain as therank smell of a dog-fox in March--which even a white man candetect--are the odours of the wilderness to him whose only home it is. And even as a lad, and for the sport of it, have I followed and foundby its scent alone the great night-butterfly, marked brown and crimson, and larger than a little bat, whose head bears tiny ferns, and whosewings are painted with the four quarters of the moon. Like crushedsumac is the odour of it, and in winter it hides in a bag of silk. "

I nodded, my eyes following the cautious movements of the Andastesbelow; and again and again I saw their heads thrown buck, noses to thestars, as though sniffing and endeavouring to wind us. And to me it washorrid and unhuman. 

For an hour they were around the river edge and the foot of thehillock, trotting silently and uneasily hither and thither, alwaysseemingly at fault. Then, apparently made bold by finding no trace ofwhat they hunted, they ranged this way and that at a sort of gallop, and we could even hear their fierce and whining speech as they huddleda moment to take counsel. 

Suddenly their movements ceased, and I clutched the Mohican's arm, as aswift file of shadows passed in silhouette along the river's brink, oneafter another moving west--fifteen ghostly figures dimly seem butunmistakable. 

"Senecas, " breathed the Mohican. 

The war party defiled at a trot, disappearing against the fringinggloom. And after them loped the Andastes pack, scurrying, hurrying, running into thickets and out again, but ever hastening along theflanks of their silent and murderous masters, who seemed to notice themnot at all. 

When they had gone, the Mohican aroused the Oneidas, and all night longwe lay there behind the rocks, rifles in rest, watching the river. 

What we awaited came with the dawn, and, in the first grey pallour ofthe breaking day, we saw their advanced guard; Cayugas and Senecas ofthe fierce war-chief Hiokatoo, every Indian stripped, oiled, headshaved, and body painted for war; first a single Cayuga, scoutingswiftly; then three furtive Senecas, then six, then a dozen, followedby their main body. 

Doubtless they had depended on the Andastes and advanced guard ofSenecas for flankers, for the main body passed without even a glance upat the hilly ground where we lay watching them. 

Then there was a break in the line, an interval of many minutes beforetheir pack horses appeared, escorted by green-coated soldiers. 

And in the ghostly light of dawn, I saw Sir John Johnson riding at thehead of his men, his pale hair unpowdered, his heavy, colourless facesunk on his breast. After him, in double file, marched his regiment ofGreens; then came more Indians--Owagas, I think--then that shamelessvillain, McDonald, in bonnet and tartan, and the heavy claymore a-swingon his saddle-bow, and his blue-eyed Indians swarming in the rear. 

Lord, what a crew! And as though that were not enough to affront therising sun, comes riding young Walter Butler, in his funereal cloak, white as a corpse under the black disorder of his hair, and staring atnothing like a damned man. On his horse's heels his ruffianly Rangersmarched in careless disorder but with powerful, swinging strides thatset their slanting muskets gleaming like ripples glinting athwart awindy pond, and their canteens all a-bobbing. 

Then, hunched on his horse, rode old John Butler--squat, swarthy, weather-roughened, balancing on his saddle with the grace of a choppingblock; and after him more Rangers crowding close behind. 

Behind these, quite alone, stalked an Indian swathed in a scarletblanket edged with gold, on which a silver gorget glittered. He seemedscarce darker than I in colour; and if he wore paint I saw none. Therewas only a scarlet band of cloth around his temples, and theflight-feather of the white-crested eagle set there low above the leftear and slanting backward. 

"Brant!" I whispered to the Sagamore; and I saw him stiffen to verystone beside me; and heard his teeth grate in his jaws. 

Then, last of all, came the Keepers of the Eastern Gate, the flower ofthe warriors of the Long House--the Mohawks. 

They passed in the barbaric magnificence of paint and feather andshining steel, a hundred lithe, light-stepping warriors, riflesswinging a-trail, and gorgeous beaded sporrans tossing at every stride. 

An interval, then the first wary figure of the lurking rear-guard, another, half a dozen, smooth-bore rifles at a ready, scanning riverand thicket. Every one of them looked up at our craggy knoll as theyglided along its base; two hesitated, ran half way up over the rockescarpment, loitered for a few moments, then slunk off, hastening tojoin their fellows. 

After a long while a single Seneca came speeding, and disappeared inthe wake of the others. 

The motley Army of the West had passed. 

And it was a terrible and an infamous sight to me, who had known thesemen under other circumstances to see the remnant of the landed gentryof Tryon County now riding the wilderness like very vagabonds, squiredby a grotesque horde of bloody renegades. 

To what a doleful pass had these gentlemen come, who lately had solorded it among us--these proud and testy autocrats of County Tryon, with their vast estates, their baronial halls, their servants, henchmen, tenantry, armed retainers, slaves?

Where were all these people now? Where were their ladies in theirLondon silks and powder? Where were their mistresses, theirdistinguished guests? Where was my Lord Dunmore now--the great Murray, Earl of Dunmore and Brent Meester to unhappy Norfolk! And, alas, wherewas the great and good Sir William--and where was Sir William's friend, Lady Grant, and the fearless Duchess of Gordon, and the dark and lovelyLady Johnson, and the pretty ladies of Guy Johnson, of Colonel Butler, of Colonel Claus? Where was Sir John's pitifully youthful andunfortunate lady, and her handsome brother, crippled at Oriskany, andthe gentle, dark-eyed sister of Walter Butler, and his haughty mother?All either dead or prisoners, or homeless refugees, or exiles living onthe scant bounty of the Government they had suffered for so loyally. 

The merciless Committee of Sequestration had seized Johnson Hall, FortJohnson, Guy Park, Butlersbury; Fish House was burned; Summer HousePoint lay in ashes, and the charming town built by Sir William was nowa rebel garrison, and the jail he erected was their citadel, flying aflag that he had never heard of when he died. 

All was gone--gone the kilted Highlanders from the guard house at theHall; gone the Royal Americans with all their bugle-horns and clarionsand scarlet pageantry; gone the many feathered chieftains who hadgathered so often at Guy Park, or the Fort, or the Hall. Mansions, lands, families, servants, all were scattered and vanished; and of allthat Tryon County glory only these harassed and haggard horsemenremained, haunting the forest purlieus of their former kingdoms withhatred in their hearts, and their hands red with murder. Truly, the RedBeast we hunted these three years through was a most poisonous thing, that it should belch forth such pests as Lord George Germaine, andLoring, and Cunningham, and turn the baronets and gentry of CountyTryon into murdering and misshapen ghouls!

When the sun rose we slung pack and pulled foot. And all that day wetravelled without mischance; and the next day it was the same, encountering nothing more menacing than peeled and painted trees, wheresome scouting war-party of the enemy had written threats and boasts, warning the "Boston people" away from the grizzly fastnesses of thedread Long House, and promising a horrid vengeance for every mile ofthe Dark Empire we profaned. 

And so, toward sundown, the first picket of General Sullivan's armychallenged us; and my Indians shouted: "Nai Tioga!" And presently weheard the evening gun very near. 

Signs of their occupation became more frequent every minute now; therewere batteaux and rafts being unloaded at landing places, heavilyguarded by Continental soldiery; canoes at carrying places, brush hutserected along the trail, felled trees, bushes cut and lying in piles, roads being widened and cleared, and men everywhere going cheerilyabout their various affairs. 

We encountered the cattle-guard near to a natural meadow along a tinybinikill, and they gave us an account of how Brant had fallen uponMinisink and had slain more than a hundred of our people along theDelaware and Neversink. And I saw my Indians listening with grimcountenances while their eyes glowed like coals. As soon as we fordedthe river, we passed a part of Colonel Proctor's artillery, parleyed ina clearing, where a fine block-fort was being erected; and there weremany regimental wagons and officers' horses and batt-horses and cattleto be seen there, and great piles of stores in barrels, sacks, skins, and willow baskets. 

As we passed the tents of a foot regiment, the 3rd New Hampshire Line, one of their six Ensigns, Bradbury Richards, recognized me and cameacross the road to shake my hand, and to inform me that a small scoutwas to go out to reconnoitre the Indian town of Chemung; and that wewould doubtless march thither on the morrow. 

With Richards came also my old friend Ezra Buell, lately lieutenant inmy own regiment, but now a captain in the 3rd New York Continentals, and a nephew of that Ezra Buell who ran the Stanwix survey in '69 andmarried a pretty Esaurora girl while marking the Treaty Line. 

"Well!" says Ezra, shaking my hand, and: "How are you lazy people upthe river, and what are you doing there?"

"Damming the lake, " said I, "whilst you damn us for making you wait. "

Bradbury Richards laughed, saying that they themselves had but justcome up, admitting, however, that there had been some little cursingconcerning our delay. 

"It has been that way with us, too, " said I, "but it is the rebel'Grants' we curse, and the Ethan Allens and John Starks, andtreacherous Green Mountain Boy's, who would shoot us in the backs ormake a dicker with Sir Henry sooner than lift a finger to obey the lawsof the State they are betraying. "

"So hot and yet so young!" said Buell, laughing, "and after a longtrail, too--" glancing at my Indians, "and another in view already! Butyou were ever an uncompromising youngster, Loskiel. "

"Your regiment has marched for Canajoharie, " I said. "When do you goa-tagging after it?"

"This evening with the headquarter's guide, Heoikim, and the expressrider, James Cooke. Lord, what a dreary business!"

"Better learn the news we have concerning your back trail before youstart. Ask Captain Franklin to mention it to the General. "

"Certainly, " said Buell. "I would to God my regiment were ordered herewith the rest of them, I'm that sick of the three forts and thescalping-party fighting on the Schoharie. "

"It's what you are likely to get for a long while yet, " said I. "Andnow will you or Richards guide me and my party to headquarters?"

"Will you mess with us?" said Richards. "I'll speak to ColonelDearborn. "

I said I would with pleasure, if free to do so, and we walked onthrough the glorious sunset light, past camp after camp, very smokywith green fires. And I saw three more block-houses being builded, andarmed with cannon. 

The music of Colonel Proctor's Artillery Regiment was playing "YankeeDoodle" near headquarters as we sighted the General's marquee, and themartial sounds enthralled me. 

One of the General's aides-de-camp, a certain Captain Dayton, met usmost politely, detained my Indians with tobacco and pipes, andconducted me straight to the General, who, he assured me, happened tobe alone. Having seen our General on various occasions, I recognizedhim at once, although he was in his banyan, having, I judged, beenbathing himself in a small, wooden bowl full of warm water, which stoodon the puncheon flooring near, very sloppy. 

He received me most civilly and listened to my report with interest andpoliteness, whilst I gave him what news I had of Clinton and how it waswith us at the Lake, and all that had happened to my scout of six--thedeath of the St. Regis and the two Iroquois, the treachery of the Erieand his escape, the murder of the Stockbridge--and how we witnessed thedefile of Indian Butler's motley but sinister array headed northwest onthe Great Warrior Trail. Also, I gave him as true and just an accountas I could give of the number of soldiers, renegades, Indians, andbatt-horses in that fantastic and infamous command. 

"Where are your Indians?" he asked bluntly. 

I informed him, and he sent his aide to fetch them. 

General Sullivan understood Indians; and I am not at all sure that myservices as interpreter were necessary; but as he said nothing to thecontrary, I played my part, presenting to him the stately Sagamore, then the Grey-Feather, then the young warrior, Tahoontowhee, who fairlyquivered with pride as I mentioned the scalps he had taken on his firstwar-path. 

With each of my Indians the General shook hands, and on each waspleased to bestow a word of praise and a promise of reward. For awhile, through medium of me, he conversed with them, and particularlywith the Sagamore, concerning the trail to Catharines-town; and, seeming convinced and satisfied, dismissed us very graciously, tellingan aide to place two bush-huts at our disposal, and otherwise see thatwe lacked nothing that could be obtained for our comfort and good cheer. 

As I saluted, he said in a low voice that he preferred I should remainwith the Mohican and Oneidas until the evening meal was over. Which Itook to indicate that any rum served to my Indians must be measured outby me. 

So that night I supped with my red comrades in front of our bush-huts, instead of joining Colonel Dearborn's mess. And I was glad I did so;and I allowed them only a gill of rum. After penning my report by thelight of a very vile torch, and filing it at headquarters, I was sotired that I could scarce muster courage to write in my diary. But Idid, setting down the day's events without shirking, though I yawnedlike a volcano at every pen-stroke. 

Captains Franklin and Buell, in high spirits, came just as I finished, desiring to learn what I had to say of the road to Otsego; but when Iinformed them they went away looking far more serious than when theyarrived. 

A few minutes later I saw the scout march out, bound for Chemung--asmall detachment of the 2nd Jersey, one Stockbridge Indian, and aCoureur-de-Bois in very elegant deerskin shirt and gorgeous leggins. Captain Cummins led them. 

As they left, Captain Dayton arrived to take me again to the General. There was a throng of officers in the marquee when I was announced, butevidently by some preconcerted understanding all retired as soon as Ientered. 

When we were alone, the General very kindly pointed to a camp stool athis elbow and requested me to be seated; and for a little while he saidnothing, but remained leaning with both elbows on his camp table, seeming to study space as though it were peopled with unpleasantpictures. 

However, presently his symmetrical features recovered pleasantly fromabstraction, and he said:

"Mr. Loskiel, it is said of you that, except for the Oneida Sachem, Spenser, you are perhaps the most accomplished interpreter Guy Johnsonemployed. "

"No, " I said, "there are many better interpreters, my General, but few, perhaps, who understand the most intimate and social conditions of theLong House better than do I. "

"You are modest in your great knowledge, Mr. Loskiel. "

"No, General, only, knowing as much as I do, I also perceive how muchmore there is that I do not know. Which makes me wary of committingmyself too confidently, and has taught me that to vaunt one's knowledgeis a dangerous folly. "

General Sullivan laughed that frank, manly, and very winning laugh ofhis. Then his features gradually became sombre again. 

"Colonel Broadhead, at Fortress Pitt, sent you a supposed Wyandotte whomight have been your undoing, " he said abruptly. "He is a cautiousofficer, too, yet see how he was deceived! Are you also likely to bedeceived in any of your Indians?"

"No, sir. "

"Oh! You are confident, then, in this matter!"

"As far as concerns the Indians now under my command. "

"You vouch for them?"

"With my honour, General. "

"Very well, sir. .. . And your Mohican Loup--he can perform what he haspromised? Guide us straight to Catharines-town, I mean?"

"He has said it. "

"Aye--but what is your opinion of that promise?"

"A Siwanois Sagamore never lies. "

"You trust him?"

"Perfectly. We are blood-brothers, he and I. "

"Oho!" said the General, nodding. "That was cunningly done, sir. "

"No, sir. The idea was his own. "

General Sullivan laughed again, playing with the polished gorget at histhroat. 

"Do you never take any credit for your accomplishments, Mr. Loskiel?"he inquired. 

"How can I claim credit for that which was not of my own and properplotting, sir?"

"Oh, it can be done, " said the General, laughing more heartily. "Asksome of our brigadiers and colonels, Mr. Loskiel, who desireadvancement every time that heaven interposes to save them from theirown stupidities! Well, well, let it go, sir! It is on a differentmatter that I have summoned you here--a very different business, Mr. Loskiel--one which I do not thoroughly comprehend. 

"All I know is this: that we Continentals are warring with Britain andher allies of the Long House, that our few Oneida and StockbridgeIndians are fighting with us. But it seems that between the Indians ofKing George and those who espouse our cause there is a deeper andbloodier and more mysterious feud. "

"Yes, General. "

"What is it?" he asked bluntly. 

"A religious feud--terrible, implacable. But this is only between thedegraded and perverted priesthood of the Senecas and our Oneidas andMohicans, whose Sachems and Sagamores have been outraged and affrontedby the blasphemous mockeries of Amochol. "

"I have heard something of this. "

"No doubt, sir. And it is true. The Senecas are different. They belongnot in the Long House. They are an alien people at heart, and seem morenearly akin to the Western Indians, save that they share with theConfederacy its common Huron-Iroquois speech. For although theirensigns sit at the most sacred rite of the Confederacy, perhaps notdaring in Federal Council to reveal what they truly are, I amconvinced, sir, that of the Seneca Sachems the majority are at heartpagans. I do not mean non-Christians, of course; they are that anyway;but I mean they are degenerated from the more noble faith of theIroquois, who, after all, acknowledge one God as we do, and have becomethe brutally superstitious slaves of their vile and perverted priests. 

"It is the spawn of Frontenac that has done this. What the WyomingWitch did at Wyoming her demons will do hereafter. Witchcraft, thefrenzied worship of goblins, ghouls, and devils, the sacrifice toBiskoonah, all these have little by little taken the place of thegrotesque but harmless rites practiced at the Onon-hou-aroria. Amocholhas made it sinister and terrible beyond words; and it is making of theSenecas a swarm of fiends from hell itself. 

"This, sir, is the truth. The orthodox priesthood of the Long Houseshudders and looks askance, but dares not interfere. As for Sir John, and Butler, and McDonald, what do they care as long as their Senecasare inflamed to fury, and fight the more ruthlessly? No, sir, only thepriesthood of our own allies has dared to accept the challenge fromAmochol and his People of the Cat. Between these it is now a war ofutter extermination. And must be so until not one Erie survives, anduntil Amochol lies dead upon his proper altar!"

The General said in a low voice:

"I had not supposed that this business were so vital. "

"Yes, sir, it is vital to the existence of the Iroquois as a federatedpeople who shall remain harmless after we have subdued them, thatAmochol and his acolytes die in the very ashes they have so horriblyprofaned. Amherst hung two of them. The nation lay stunned until heleft this country. Had he remained and executed a dozen more Sachemswith the rope, the world, I think, had never heard of Amochol. "

The General looked hard at me:

"Can you reach Amochol, Mr. Loskiel?"

"That is what I would say to you, sir. I think I can reach him atCatharines-town with my Indians and a detachment from my own regiment, and crush him before he is alarmed by the advance of this army. I havespoken with my Indians, and they believe this can be accomplished, because we have learned that on the last day of this month the secretand debased rites of the Onon-hou-aroria will be practiced atCatharines-town; and every Sorcerer will be there. "

"Do you propose to go out in advance on this business?"

"It must be done that way, sir, if we can hope to destroy thisSorcerer. The Seneca scouts most certainly watch this encampment fromevery hilltop. And the day this army stirs on its march toCatharines-town and Kendaia, the news will run into the North likelightning. You, sir, can hope to encounter no armed resistance as youmarch northward burning town after town, save only if Butler makes astand or attempts an ambuscade in force. 

"Otherwise, no Seneca will await your coming--I mean there will be noconsiderable force of Senecas to oppose you in their towns, only theusual scalping parties hanging just outside the smoke veil. All willretire before you. And how is Amochol to be destroyed atCatharines-town unless he be struck at secretly before your advance isnear enough to frighten him?"

"What people would you take with you?"

"My Indians, Lieutenant Boyd, and thirty riflemen. "

"Is that not too few?"

"In all swift and secret marches, sir, a few do better service thanmany--as you have taught your own people many a time. "

"That is quite true. But they never seem to learn the lesson. I amsomewhat astonished that you have seemed to learn it, and lay itpractically to heart. " He smiled, drummed on the table with a Faberpencil, then, knitting his brows, drew to him a sheet of paper andwrote on it slowly, pausing from time to time in troubled reflection. Once he glanced up at me coldly, and:

"Who is to lead this expedition?" he asked bluntly. 

"Why, Lieutenant Boyd, sir, " said I, wondering. 

"Oh! You have no ambitions then?"

"Mr. Boyd ranks me, " I said, smiling. "Who else should lead?"

"I see. Well, sir, you understand that a new commission lies all neatlyfolded for you in Catharines-town. Even such a modest man as you, Mr. Loskiel, could scarce doubt that, " he added laughingly. 

"No, sir, I do not doubt it. "

"That is well, then. Orders will be sent you in due time--not untilGeneral Clinton's army arrives, however. "

He looked at me pleasantly: "I have robbed you of the sleep most justlydue you. But I think perhaps you may not regret this conference. Good-night, sir. "

I saluted and went out. An orderly with a torch lighted me to myquarters. Inside the bush-hut assigned to the Mohican and myself, thered torch-light flickered over the recumbent Sagamore, swathed in hisblanket, motionless. But even as I looked one of his eyes opened alittle way, glimmering like a jewel in the ruddy darkness, then closedagain. 

So I stretched myself out in my blanket beside the Sagamore, and, thinking of Lois, fell presently into a sweet and dreamless sleep. 

At six o'clock the morning gun awoke me with its startling and annoyingthunder. The Sagamore sat up in his blanket, wearing thathalf-irritated, half-shamed expression always to be seen on an Indian'scountenance when cannon are fired. An Indian has no stomach forartillery, and hates sight and sound of the metal monsters. 

For a few moments I bantered him sleepily, then dropped back into myblanket. What cared I for their insolent morning gun! I snapped myfingers at it. 

And so I lolled on my back, half asleep, yet not wholly, and soon tiredof this, and, wrapping me in my blanket and drawing on ankle moccasins, went down to the Chemung where its crystal current clattered over thestones, and found me a clear, deep pool to flounder in. 

Before I plunged, noticing several fine trout lying there, I played ascurvy trick on them, tickling three big ones; and had a fourth out ofwater, but was careless, and he slipped back. 

Some Continental soldiers who had been watching me, mouths agape, wentto another pool to try their skill; but while I would not boast, it isnot everybody who can tickle a speckled trout; and after my bath thesoldiers were still at it, and damning their eyes, their luck, and thepretty fish which so saucily flouted them. 

So I flung 'em a big trout and went back to camp whistling, and therefound that my Indians had fed and were now gravely renewing their paint. 

Tahoontowhee dressed and cooked my fish for me, each in a bass-woodleaf, and when they were done and smelling most fragrant, we all made adelicious feast, with corn bread from the ovens and salt pork and agreat jug of milk from the army's herd. 

At eight o'clock another gun was fired. This was the daily signal, Ilearned, to stack tents and load pack-horses. And another gun fired atten o'clock meant "March. " With all these guns, and a fourth atsundown, I saw an unhappy time ahead for my Indians. Truly, I think thesound makes them sick. They all pulled wry faces now, and I had my jestat their expense, ours being a most happy little family, so amiably didthe Mohican and Oneidas foregather; and also, there being among them aSagamore and a Chief of the noble Oneida clan, I could meet them on anequality of footing which infringed nothing on military etiquette. There were doubtless many interpreters in camp, but few, if any, Isuppose, who had had the advantage of such training as I under GuyJohnson, who himself, after Sir William's death, was appointed IndianSuperintendent under the Crown for all North America, Guy Johnson knewthe Iroquois. And if he lacked the character, personal charm, andknowledge that Sir William possessed, yet in the politics and diplomacyof Indian affairs his knowledge and practice were vast, and hisservices most valuable to his King. 

Under him I had been schooled, and also under the veteran deputies, Colonel Croghan, Colonel Butler, and Colonel Claus; and had learnedmuch from old Cadwallader Colden, too, who came often to Guy Park, asdid our good General Philip Schuyler in these peaceful days. 

So I knew how to treat any Indian I had ever seen, save only theoutlandish creatures of the Senecas. Else, perhaps, I had soonerpenetrated the villainy of the Erie. Yet, even my own Indians had notbeen altogether certain of the traitor's identity until almost at thevery end. 

At ten another gun was fired, but only a small detachment of infantrymarched, the other regiments unpacking and pitching tents again, andthe usual routine of camp life, with its multitudinous duties anddetails, was resumed. 

I reported at headquarters, to which my guides were now attached, andthere were orders for me to hold myself and Indians in readiness for anight march to Chemung. 

All that day I spent in acquainting myself with the camp which had beenpitched, as I say, on the neck of land bounded by the Susquehanna andthe Chemung, with a small creek, called Cayuga by some, Seneca Creek byothers, intersecting it and flowing south into the Susquehanna. It wasbut a trout brook. 

This site of the old Indian town of Tioga seemed to me very lovely. Thewaters were silvery and sweet, the flats composed of rich, dark soil, the forests beautiful with a great variety of noble and gigantictrees--white pines on the hills; on the level country enormousblack-walnuts, oaks, button-woods, and nut trees of many species, growing wide apart, yet so roofing the forest with foliage that verylittle sunlight penetrated, and only the flats were open and brightwith waving Indian grass, now so ripe that our sheep, cattle, andhorses found in it a nourishment scarcely sufficient for beasts soexercised and driven. 

That day, as I say, I walked about the camp and adjacent river-country, seeking out my friends in the various regiments to gossip with them. And was invited to a Rum Punch given by all the officers at theArtillery Lines to celebrate the victory of General Wayne at StonyPoint. 

Colonel Proctor's artillery band discoursed most noble music for us;and there was much hilarity and cheering, and many very boisterous. 

These social parties in our army, where rum-punch was the favouritebeverage, were gay and lively; but there was a headache in every cup ofit, they say. I, being an interpreter, held aloof because I must everset an example to my red comrades. And this day had all I could do toconfine them to proper rations. For all spirit is a very poison to anyIndian. And of all the crimes of which men of my colour standattainted, the offering of this death-cup to our red brothers is, Ithink, the wickedest and the most contemptible. 

For when we white men become merely exhilarated in the performance ofsuch social usages as politeness requires of us, the Indian becomesmurderous. And I remember at this Artillery Punch many officers danceda Shawanese dance, and General Hand, of the Light Troops, did lead thiswar-dance, which caused me discomfiture, I not at all pleased to seeofficers who ranked me cut school-boy capers 'round a midday fire. 

And it was like very school-lads that many of us behaved, making ofthis serious and hazardous expedition a silly pleasure jaunt. I havesince thought that perhaps the sombre and majestic menace of a sunlessand unknown forest reacted a little on us all, and that many found anervous relief in brief relaxations and harmless folly, and in anticsperformed on its grim and dusky edges. 

For no one, I think, doubted there was trouble waiting for us withinthese silent shades. And the tension had never lessened for this army, what with waiting for the Right Wing, which had not yet apparentlystirred from Otsego; and the inadequacy of provisions, not known to themen but whispered among the officers; and the shots already exchangedthis very morning along the river between our outposts and prowlingscouts of the enemy; and the daily loss of pack-animals and cattle, strayed or stolen; and of men, too, scalped since they left Wyoming, sometimes within gunshot of headquarters. 

But work on the four block-forts, just begun, progressed rapidly; and, alas, the corps of invalids destined to garrison them had, since thearmy left Easton, increased too fast to please anybody, what withwounds, accidents in camp from careless handling of firearms, kicksfrom animals, and the various diseases certain to appear where manypeople congregate. 

There were a number of regiments under tents or awaiting the unfinishedlog barracks at Tioga Point; in the First Brigade there were four fromNew Jersey; in the Second Brigade three from New Hampshire; in theThird two from Pennsylvania, and an artillery regiment; and what withother corps and the train, boatmen, guides, workmen, servants, etc. , itmade a great and curious spectacle even before our Right Wing joined. 

Every regiment carried its colours and its music, fifes, drums, andbugle-horns; and sometimes these played on the march when a lightdetachment went forward for a day's scout, or to forage or to destroy. But best of all music I ever heard, I loved now to hear the band ofColonel Proctor's artillery regiment, filling me as it did with solemn, yet pleasurable, emotions, and seemingly teaching me how dear had Loisbecome to me. 

The scout, sent out the day before, returned in the afternoon with anaccount that Chemung was held by the enemy, which caused a bustle incamp, particularly among the light troop. 

Headquarters was very busy all day long, and sometimes even gay, forthe gentlemen of General Sullivan's family were not only sufficient, but amiable and delightful. And there I had the honour of being madeknown to his aides-de-camp, Mr. Pierce, Mr. Van Cortlandt, and MajorHoops. I already knew Captain Dayton. Also, of the staff I met thereCaptain Topham, our Commissary of Militia Stores, Captain Lodge, oursurveyor, Colonels Antis and Bond, Conductors of Boats, Dr. Hogan, Chief Surgeon, Lieutenant R. Pemberton, Judge Advocate, LieutenantColonel Frasier, Colonel Hooper, Lieutenant Colonel Barber, AdjutantGeneral, the Reverend S. Kirkland, Chaplain, and others most agreeablebut too numerous to mention. Still, I have writ them all down in mydiary, as I try always to do, so that if God gives me wife and childrensome day they may find, perhaps, an hour of leisure, when to peruse ablotted page of what husband and father saw in the great war might notprove too tedious or disagreeable. 

In this manner, then, the afternoon of that August day passed, and whatwith these occupations, and the catching of several trouts, which Ilove to do with hook and line and alder pole, and what with sending toLois a letter by an express who went to Clinton toward evening, thetime did not seem irksome. 

Yet, it had passed more happily had I heard from Lois. But no runnerscame; and if any were sent out from Otsego and taken by the enemy Iknow not, only that none came through that day, Thursday, August the12th. 

One thing in camp had disagreeably surprised me, that there were womenand children here, and like to remain in the block forts after the armyhad departed from its base for the long march through the Senecacountry. 

This I could not understand or reconcile with any proper measure ofsafety, as the cannon in the block-houses were not to be many or of anygreat calibre, and only the corps of invalids were to remain to defendthem. 

I had told Lois that no women would be permitted at Tioga Point. Thatthese were the orders that had been generally understood at Otsego. 

And now, lo and behold, here were women arrived from Easton, Bethlehem, Wyalusing, and Wyoming, including the wives and children of severalnon-commissioned officers and soldiers from the district; widows ofmurdered settlers, washerwomen, and several tailoresses--in all a veryconsiderable number. 

And I hoped to heaven that Lois might not hear of this mischievousbusiness and discover in it an excuse for coming as the guest of anylady at Otsego, or, in fact, make any further attempt to stir until theRight Wing marched and the batteaux took the ladies of CaptainBleecker, Ensign Lansing, and Lana, and herself to Albany. 

After sundown an officer came to me and said that the entire army wasordered to march at eight that evening, excepting troops sufficient toguard our camp; that there would be no alarm sounded, and that we wereto observe secrecy and silence. 

Also, it appeared that a gill of rum per man had been authorized, but Irefused for myself and my Indians, thinking to myself that the Generalmight have made it less difficult for me if he had confined hisindulgence to the troops. 

About eight o'clock a Stockbridge Indian--the one who had been with thescout to Chemung--came to me with a note from Dominie Kirkland. 

I gave him my hand, and he told me that his name was Yellow Moth, andthat he was a Christian. Also, he inquired about the Mole, and I wasobliged to relate the circumstances of that poor convert's murder. 

"God's will, " said the Yellow Moth very quietly. "You, my brother, andI may see a thousand fall, and ten thousand on our right hand, and itshall not come nigh us. "

"Amen, " said I, much moved by this simple fellow's tranquil faith. 

I made him known to the Sagamore and to the two Oneidas, who receivedhim with a grave sincerity which expressed very plainly their respectfor a people of which the Mole had been for them a respectable example. 

Like the Mole, the Yellow Moth wore no paint except a white crosslimned on his breast over a clan sign indecipherable. And if, in truth, there had ever really been a totem under the white paint I do not know, for like the Algonquins, these peoples had but a loose political, social, religious, and tribal organization, which never approached theperfection of the Iroquois system in any manner or detail. 

About eight o'clock came Captain Carbury, of the 11th Pennsylvania, tous, and we immediately set out, marching swiftly up the Chemung River, the Sagamore and the Yellow Moth leading, then Captain Carbury andmyself, then the Oneidas. 

Behind us in the dusk we saw the Light Troops falling in, who alwayslead the army. All marched without packs, blankets, horses, or anyimpedimenta. And, though the distance was not very great, so hilly, rocky, and rough was the path through the hot, dark night, and sonarrow and difficult were the mountain passes, that we were oftenobliged to rest the men. Also there were many swamps to pass, and asthe men carried the cohorn by hand, our progress was slow. Besidesthese difficulties and trials, a fog came up, thickening toward dawn, which added to the hazards of our march. 

So the dawn came and found us still marching through the mist, and itwas not until six o'clock that we of the guides heard a Seneca dogbarking far ahead, and so knew that Chemung was near. 

Back sped Tahoontowhee to hasten the troops; I ran forward with CaptainCarbury and the Sagamore, passing several outlying huts, then somebarns and houses which loomed huge as medieval castles in the fog, butwere really very small. 

"Look out!" cried Carbury. "There is their town right ahead!"

It lay straight ahead of us, a fine town of over a hundred houses builton both sides of the pretty river. The casements of some of thesehouses were glazed and the roofs shingled; smoke drifted lazily fromthe chimneys; and all around were great open fields of grain, maize, and hay, orchards and gardens, in which were ripening peas, beans, squashes, pumpkins, watermelons, muskmelons. 

"Good God!" said I. "This is a fine place, Carbury!"

"It's like a dozen others we have laid in ashes, " said he, "and likescores more that we shall treat in a like manner. Look sharp! Here someour light troops. "

The light infantry of Hand arrived on a smart run--a torrent ofred-faced, sweating, excited fellows, pouring headlong into the town, cheering as they ran. 

General Hand, catching sight of me, signalled with his sword andshouted to know what had become of the enemy. 

"They're gone off!" I shouted back. "My Indians are on their heels andwe'll soon have news of their whereabouts. "

Then the soldiery began smashing in doors and windows right and left, laughing and swearing, and dragging out of the houses everything theycontained. 

So precipitate had been the enemy's flight that they had lefteverything--food still cooking, all their household and personalutensils; and I saw in the road great piles of kettles, plates, knives, deerskins, beaver-pelts, bearhides, packs of furs, and bolts of stripedlinen, to which heaps our soldiers were adding every minute. 

Others came to fire the town; and it was sad to see these humble homespuff up in a cloud of smoke and sparks, then burst into vivid flame. Inthe orchards our men were plying their axes or girdling theheavily-fruited trees; field after field of grain was fired, and theflames swept like tides across them. 

The corn was in the milk, and what our men could not burn, using thehouses for kilns, they trampled and cut with their hangers--wholeregiments marching through these fields, destroying the most noble cornI ever saw, for it was so high that it topped the head of a man onhorseback. 

So high, also, stood the hay, and it was sad to see it burn. 

And now, all around in this forest paradise, our army was gathered, destroying, raging, devastating the fairest land that I had seen inmany a day. All the country was aflame; smoke rolled up, fouling theblue sky, burying woodlands, blotting out the fields and streams. 

From the knoll to which I had moved to watch the progress of my scouts, I could see an entire New Jersey regiment chasing horses and cattle;another regiment piling up canoes, fish-weirs, and the hewn logs ofbridges, to make a mighty fire; still other regiments trampling out thelast vestige of green stuff in the pretty gardens. 

Not a shot had yet been fired; there was no sound save the excited andterrifying roar of a vast armed mob obliterating in its fury the verywell-springs that enabled its enemies to exist. 

Cattle, sheep, horses were being driven off down the trail by which wehad come; men everywhere were stuffing their empty sacks with greenvegetables and household plunder; the town fairly whistled with flame, and the smoke rose in a great cloud-shape very high, and hung above us, tenting us from the sun. 

In the midst of this uproar the Grey-Feather came speeding to me withnews that the enemy was a little way upstream and seemed inclined tomake a stand. I immediately informed the General; and soon thebugle-horns of the light infantry sounded, and away we raced ahead ofthem. 

I remember seeing an entire company marching with muskmelons pinned ontheir bayonets, all laughing and excited; and I heard General Sullivanbawl at them:

"You damned unmilitary rascals, do you mean to open fire on 'em withvegetables?"

Everybody was laughing, and the General grinned as Hand's bugle-hornsplayed us in. 

But it was another matter when the Seneca rifles cracked, and asergeant and a drummer lad of the 11th Pennsylvania fell. Thesmooth-bores cracked again, and four more soldiers tumbled forwardsprawling, the melons on their bayonets rolling off into the bushes. 

Carbury, marching forward beside me, dropped across my path; and as Istooped over him gave me a ghastly look. 

"Don't let them scalp me, " he said--but his own men came running andpicked him up, and I ran forward with the others toward a wooded hillwhere puffs of smoke spotted the bushes. 

Then the long, rippling volleys of Hand's men crashed out, one afteranother, and after a little of this their bugle-horns sounded thecharge. 

But the Senecas did not wait; and it was like chasing weasels in astone wall, for even my Indians could not come up with them. 

However, about two o'clock, returning to that part of the town acrossthe river, which Colonel Dearborn's men were now setting afire, wereceived a smart volley from some ambushed Senecas, and Adjutant Hustonand a guide fell. 

It was here that the Sagamore made his kill--just beyond the firsthouse, in some alders; and he came back with a Seneca scalp at hisgirdle, as did the Grey-Feather also. 

"Hiokatoo's warriors, " remarked the Oneida briefly, wringing out hisscalp and tying it to his belt. 

I looked up at the hills in sickened silence. Doubtless Butler's menwere watching us in our work of destruction, not daring to interfereuntil the regulars arrived from Fort Niagara. But when they did arrive, it meant a battle. We all knew that. And knew, too, that a battle lostin the heart of that dark wilderness meant the destruction of everyliving soul among us. 

About two o'clock, having eaten nothing except what green and uncookedstuff we had picked up in field and garden, our marching signal soundedand we moved off; driving our captured stock, every soldier laden withgreen food and other plunder, and taking with us our dead and wounded. 

Chemung had been, but was no longer. And if, like Thendara, it was everagain to be I do not know, only that such a horrid and pitifuldesolation I had never witnessed in all my life before. For it was notthe enemy, but the innocent earth we had mutilated, stamping an armedheel into its smiling and upturned face. And what we had done sickenedme. 

Yet, this was scarcely the beginning of that terrible punishment whichwas to pass through the Long House in flame and smoke, from the EasternDoor to the Door of the West, scouring it fiercely from one end to theother, and leaving no living thing within--only a few dead men proneamong its blood-soaked ashes. 

*Etho ni-ya-wenonh!

[*Thus it befell!]

By six that evening the army was back in its camp at Tioga Point. Allthe fever and excitement of the swift foray had passed, and theinevitable reaction had set in. The men were haggard, weary, sombre, and harassed. There was no elation after success either among officersor privates; only a sullen grimness, the sullenness of repletion afteran orgy--the grimness of disgust for an unwelcome duty only yet begun. 

Because this sturdy soldiery was largely composed of tillers of thesoil, of pioneer farmers who understood good land, good husbandry, goodcrops, and the stern privations necessary to wrest a single rod of landfrom the iron jaws of the wilderness. 

To stamp upon, burn, girdle, destroy, annihilate, give back to theforest what human courage and self-denial had wrested from it, was tothem in their souls abhorrent. 

Save for the excitement of the chase, the peril ever present, thecertainty that failure meant death in its most dreadful forms, it mighthave been impossible for these men to destroy the fruits of the earth, even though produced by their mortal enemies, and designed, ultimately, to nourish them. 

Even my Indians sat silent and morose, stretching, braiding, andhooping their Seneca scalps. And I heard them conversing amongthemselves, mentioning frequently the Three Sisters* they haddestroyed; and they spoke ever with a hint of tenderness and regret intheir tones which left me silent and unhappy. 

[*Corn, squash, and bean were so spoken of affectionately, as theyalways were planted together by the Iroquois. ]

To slay in the heat and fury of combat is one matter; to scar andcripple the tender features of humanity's common mother is a differentaffair. And I make no doubt that every blow that bit into the ladenfruit trees of Chemung stabbed more deeply the men who so mercilesslyswung the axes. 

Well might the great Cayuga chieftain repeat the terrible prophecy ofToga-na-etah the Beautiful:

"When the White Throats shall come, then, if ye be divided, ye willpull down the Long House, fell the tall Tree of Peace, and quench theOnondaga Fire forever. "

As I stood by the rushing current of the Thiohero, * on the profaned anddesolate threshold of the Dark Empire, I thought of O-cau-nee, theEnchantress, and of Na-wenu the Blessed, and of Hiawatha floating inhis white canoe into the far haven where the Master of Life stoodwaiting. 

[*Seneca River. ]

And now, for these doomed people of the Kannonsi, but one rite remainedto be accomplished. And the solemn thunder of the last drum-roll mustsummon them to the great Festival of the Dead. 

CHAPTER XV

BLOCK-HOUSE NO. 2

On the 14th the army lay supine. There was no news from Otsego. One manfell dead in camp of heart disease. The cattle-guard was fired on. Onthe 15th a corporal and four privates, while herding our cattle, werefired on, the Senecas killing and scalping one and wounding another. Onthe 16th came a runner from Clinton with news that the Otsego army wason the march and not very far distant from the Ouleout; and adetachment of eight hundred men, under Brigadier General Poor, was sentforward to meet our Right Wing and escort it back to this camp. 

By one of the escort, a drummer lad, I sent a letter directed to Lois, hoping it might be relayed to Otsego and from thence by batteau toAlbany. The Oneida runner had brought no letters, much to the disgustof the army, and no despatches except the brief line to our Generalcommanding. The Brigadiers were furious. So also was I that no letterscame for me. 

On the 17th our soldier-herdsmen were again fired on, and, as before, one poor fellow was killed and partly scalped, and one wounded. TheYellow Moth, Tahoontowhee, and the Grey-Feather went out at night onretaliation bent, but returned with neither trophies nor news, savewhat we all knew, that the Seneca scouts were now swarming like hornetsall around us ready to sting to death anyone who strayed out of bounds. 

On the 18th the entire camp lay dull, patiently expectant of Clinton. He did not come. It rained all night. 

On Thursday, the 19th, it still rained steadily, but with noviolence--a fine, sweet, refreshing summer shower, made golden andbeautiful at intervals by the momentary prophecy of the sun; yet he didnot wholly reveal himself, though he smiled through the mist at us infriendly fashion. 

I had been out fishing for trouts very early, the rain making itfavourable for such pleasant sport, and my Indians and I had finished abreakfast of corn porridge and the sweet-fleshed fishes that I tookfrom the brook where it falls into the Susquehanna. 

It was still very early--near to five o'clock, I think--for the morninggun had not yet bellowed, and the camp lay very still in the gentle andfragrant rain. 

A few moments before five I saw a company of Jersey troops marchsilently down to the river, hang their cartouche-boxes on theirbayonets, and ford the stream, one holding to another, and belly deepin the swollen flood. 

Thinks I to myself, they are going to protect our cattle-guards; and Iturned and walked down to the ford to watch the crossing. 

Then I saw why they had crossed: there were some people come down tothe landing place on the other bank in two batteaux and an Oneidacanoe--soldiers, boatmen, and two women; and our men were fording theriver to protect the crossing of this small flotilla. 

I seated myself, wondering what foolhardy people these might be, andtrying to see more plainly the women in the two batteaux. As theboatmen poled nearer, it seemed to me that some of the people lookedmarvelously like the riflemen of my own corps; and a few moments laterI sprang to my feet astounded, for of the two women in the nearestbatteau one was Lois de Contrecoeur and the other Lana Helmer. 

Suddenly the Oneida canoe shot out from the farther shore, passed bothbatteaux, paddles flashing, and came darting toward the landing where Istood. Two riflemen were in it; one rose as the canoe's nose grated onthe gravel, cast aside the bow-paddle, balanced himself toward the bowwith both hands, and leaped ashore, waving at me a gay greeting. 

"My God!" said I excitedly, as Boyd ran lightly up the slope. "Are youstark mad to bring ladies into this damnable place?"

"There are other women, too. Why, even that pretty jade, Dolly Glenn, is coming! What could I do? The General himself permitted it. Miss deContrecoeur and Lana heard that a number of women were already here, and so come for a frolic they must. "

"Who accompanies them? I see no older woman yonder. "

"Mrs. Sabin, the lady of Captain Sabin, Staff Commissary of Issues. "

"Where is she, then?"

"We left her with the army at the Ouleout. "

"Where do you propose to quarter these ladies?"

"We understand that you have four block-forts mounting cannon. Thatwould argue barracks. Therefore, I don't think the danger is veryconsiderable. Do you?"

"There is danger, of course, " I said. "The entire Seneca nation is herewith Indian Butler and Brant. "

"Well, then, we'll turn your Butler into a turn-spit, and make of yourwild Brant a domestic gander!"

He spoke coolly, a slight smile on his eager, handsome features. And Iwondered how he could make a jest of this business, and how he couldhave permitted so mad a prank if he truly entertained any very deepregard for Lana Helmer. 

"Danger, " I repeated coldly. "Yes, there is a-plenty of thathereabouts, what with the Seneca scalping parties combing the woodsaround us, and the cattle-guard fired upon in plain sight ofheadquarters. "

"Well, there were and still are some few scalping parties hangingaround Otsego. I myself see no real reason why the ladies should notpay us a visit here, have their frolic, and later return with theheavier artillery down the river to Easton. Or, if they choose, theyshall await our return from Catharines-town. "

"And if we do not return? Have you thought of that, Boyd?"

"You shall not conjure me with any such forebodings!" he laughed. "Thisraid of ours will be no very great or fearsome affair. They'llrun--your Brants and Butlers--I warrant you. And we'll follow and burntheir towns. Then, like the French king of old, down hill we'll all gostrutting, you and I and the army, Loskiel; and no great harm done toanybody or anything, save to the Senecas' squash harvest, and thesensitive feelings of Walter Butler!"

While he was speaking, I kept my eye on the slow batteau which led. Three boatmen poled it; Lois and Lana sat in the middle; behind themcrouched two riflemen, long weapons ready, the ringed coon-tailfloating in the breeze. 

Neither of the ladies had yet recognized me; Lana leaned lightlyagainst Lois, her cheek resting on her companion's shoulder. 

A black rage against Boyd rose suddenly in my breast; and so savage andabrupt was the emotion that I could scarce stifle and subdue it. 

"It is wrong for them to come, " I said with an effort to speak calmly, "----utterly and wickedly wrong. Our block-forts are not finished. Andwhen they are they will be more or less vulnerable. I can notunderstand why you did not make every effort to prevent their cominghere. "

"I made every proper effort, " he said carelessly. "What man is vainenough to believe he can influence a determined woman?"

I did not like what he said, and so made him no answer. 

"Is your camp still asleep?" he asked, yawning. 

"Yes. The morning gun is usually fired at six. "

"Can you lodge us and bait us until I make my report?"

"I can lodge the ladies and give breakfast to you all. How near is ourmain army?"

"Between twenty and thirty miles above--one can scarce tell the waythis accursed river winds about. Our men are exhausted. They'll notarrive tonight. General Poor's men from this camp met us last night. Clinton desired me to take a few riflemen and push forward; and theladies--except the fat one--begged so prettily to go with us that heconsented. So we took two empty batteaux and a canoe and came on inadvance, with no effort whatever. "

"That was a rash business!" I said, controlling my anger. "The riverwoods along the Ouleout swarm with Seneca scouts. Didn't you understandthat?"

"So I told 'em, " he said, laughing, "but do you know, Loskiel, betweenyou and me I believe that your pretty inamorata really loves the thrillof danger. And I know damned well that Lana Helmer loves it. For whenwe came through without so much as sighting a muskrat, 'What!' saysshe, 'Not a savage to be seen and not a shot fired! Lord, ' says she, 'Ihad as lief take the air on Bowling Green--there being some real perilof beaux and macaronis!'"

Everything this man said now conspired to enrage me; and it was astruggle for me to restrain the bitter affront ever twitching at mylips for utterance. Perhaps I might not have restrained it any longerhad I not seen Lois lean suddenly forward in her seat, shade her eyeswith her hands, then stand up beside one of the boatmen. And I knew sherecognized me. 

Instantly within me all anger, rancour, and even dread melted in thewarmer and more generous emotion which nigh overwhelmed me, so that foran instant I could scarce see her for the glimmering of my eyes. 

But that passed; I went down to the shore and stood there while theclumsy boat swung inshore, the misty waves slapping at the bow andside. The landing planks lay on the gravel. Boyd and I laid them. Lana, wrapped in her camblet, crossed them first, giving me her hand with apale smile. I laid my lips to it; she passed, Boyd moving forwardbeside her. 

Then came Lois in her scarlet capuchin, eager and shy at the same time, smiling, yet with fearfulness and tenderness so strangely blended thatever her laughing eyes seemed close to tears and the lips that smiledwere tremulous. 

"I came--you see. .. . Are you angry?" she asked as I bent low over herlittle hand. "You will not chide me--will you, Euan?"

"No. What is done is done. Are you well, Lois?"

"Perfect in health, my friend. And if you truly are glad to see me, then I am content. But I am also very wet, Euan, spite of my capuchin. Lana and I have a common box. It belongs to her. May our boatmen carryit ashore?"

I gave brief directions to the men, returned the smiling salute of mywet riflemen from the other boat now drawing heavily inshore, andclimbed the grassy bank with Lois to where Lana and Boyd stood underthe trees awaiting us. 

"I have but one bush-hut to offer you at present, " I said. "Properprovision in barracks will be made, no doubt, as soon as the Generallearns who it is who has honoured him so unexpectedly with a visit. "

"That's why we came, Euan--to honour General Sullivan, " said Loisdemurely. "Did we not, Lanette?"

Then again I noticed that the old fire, the old gaiety in Lana Helmerhad been almost quenched. For instead of a saucy reply she only smiled;and even her eyes seemed spiritless as they rested on me a moment, thenturned wearily elsewhere. 

"You are much fatigued, " I said to Lois. 

"I? No. But my poor Lana slept very badly in the boat. Before dawn wewent ashore for an hour's rest. That seemed sufficient for me, butLana, poor dove, did not profit, I fear. Did you, dearest?"

"Very little, " said Lana, forcing a gaiety she surely did not inspirein others with her haunted eyes that looked at everything, yet sawnothing--or so it seemed to me. 

As we came to our bush-huts, Lois caught sight of the Sagamore for thefirst time, and held out both hands with a pretty cry of recognition:

"Nai, Mayaro!"

The Sagamore turned in silent astonishment; though when he saw Boydthere also his features became smooth and blank again. But he cameforward with stately grace to welcome her; and, bending his crestedhead, took her hands and laid them lightly over his heart. 

"Nai, Lois!" he exclaimed emphatically. 

"Itoh, Mayaro!" she replied gaily, pressing his hands in hers. "I amthat contented to see you! Are you not amazed to see me here?" sheinsisted, mischievously amused at his unaltered features. 

The Sagamore said smilingly:

"When she wills it, who can follow the Rosy-throated Pigeon in herswift flight? Not the Enchantress in the moon. Tharon alone, ORosy-throated One!"

"The wild pigeon has outwitted you all, has she not, Mayaro, my friend?"

"Nakwah! Let my brother Loskiel deny it, then. I, a Sagamore, knowbetter than to deny a fire its ashes, or a wild pigeon its magicflight. "

Boyd now spoke to the Mohican, who returned his greeting courteously, but very gravely. I then made the Mohican known to Lana, who gave him alifeless hand from the green folds of her camblet. My Oneidas, who hadfinished their somewhat ominous painting, came from the other hut incompany with the Yellow Moth, the latter now painted for the first timein a brilliant and poisonous yellow. All these people I made acquaintedone with another. Lois was very gracious to them all, using what Indianwords she knew in her winning greetings--and using them quitewrongly--God bless her!

Then the Yellow Moth hung my new blue blanket, which I had lately drawnfrom our Commissary of Issues, across the door of my hut; two hugeboatmen came up with Lana's box, swung between them, and deposited itwithin the hut. 

"By the time you are ready, " said I, "we will have a breakfast for yousuch as only the streams of this country can afford. "

The six o'clock gun awoke the camp and found me already at theGeneral's tent, awaiting permission to see him. 

He seemed surprised that Clinton had allowed any ladies to accompanythe Otsego army, but it was evident that the happiness and relief heexperienced at learning that Clinton was on the Ouleout had put himinto a most excellent humour. And he straightway sent an officer withorders to remove Lana's box to Block-Fort No. 2 in the new fort, wherewere already domiciled the wives of two sergeants and a corporal, andgave me an order assigning to Lois and Lana a rough loft there. 

But the General's chief concern and curiosity was for Boyd and theeight riflemen who had come through from the Ouleout as the firstadvanced guard of that impatiently awaited Otsego army; and I heardBoyd telling him very gaily that they were bringing more than twohundred batteaux, loaded with provisions. And, this, I think, was thebest news any man could have brought to our Commander at that moment. One thing I do know; from that time Boyd was an indulged favourite ofour General, who admired his many admirable qualities, his gay spirits, his dashing enterprise, his utter fearlessness; and who overlooked hismilitary failings, which were rashness to the point of folly, and atendency to obey orders in a manner which best suited his own ideas. Captain Cummings was a far safer man. 

I say this with nothing in my heart but kindness for Boyd. God knows Idesire to do him justice--would wish it for him even more than formyself. And I not only was not envious of his good fortune in sopleasing our General, but was glad of it, hoping that this honour mightcarry with it a new and graver responsibility sufficiently heavy tocurb in him what was least admirable and bring out in him those noblerqualities so desirable in officer and man. 

When I returned to my hut there were any fish smoking hot on their barkplates, and Lana and Lois in dry woollen dresses, worsted stockings, and stout, buckled shoon, already at porridge. 

So I sat down with them and ate, and it was, or seemed to be, a happycompany there before our little hut, with officers and troops passingto and fro and glancing curiously at us, and our Indians squattedbehind us all a-row, and shining up knife and hatchet and rifle; andthe bugle-horns of the various regiments sounding prettily atintervals, and the fifers and drummers down by the river at distantmorning practice. 

"You love best the bellowing conch-horn of the rifles, " observed Lanato Lois, with a touch of her old-time impudence. 

"I?" exclaimed Lois. 

"You once told me that every blast of it sets you a-trembling, "insisted Lana. "Naturally I take it that you quiver withdelight--having some friend in that corps----"

"Lana! Have done, you little baggage!"

"Lord!" said Lana. "'Twas Major Parr I meant. What does an infantEnsign concern such aged dames as you and I?"

Lois, lovely under her mounting colour, continued busy with herporridge. Lana said in my ear:

"She is a wild thing, Euan, and endures neither plaguing nor wooingeasily. How I have gained her I do not know. .. . Perhaps because I amaging very fast these days, and she hath a heart as tender as a forestdove's. "

Lois looked up, seeing us whispering together. 

"Uncouth manners!" said she. "I am greatly ashamed of you both. "

I thought to myself, wondering, how utter a change had come over thecharacters of these two in twice as many weeks! Lois had now somethingof that quick and mischievous gaiety that once was Lana's; and thetroubled eyes that once belonged to Lois now were hers no longer, butLana's. It seemed very strange and sad to me. 

"Had I a dozen beaux, " quoth Lois airily, "I might ask of one o' themanother bit of trout. " And, "Oh!" she exclaimed, in affected surprise, as I aided her. "It would seem that I have at least one young man whoaspires to that ridiculous title. Do you covet it, Euan? And humbly?"

"Do I merit it?" I asked, laughing. 

"Upon my honour, " she exclaimed, turning to Lana, "I believe the pooryoung gentleman thinks he does merit the title. Did you ever hear ofsuch insufferable conceit? And merely because he offers me a bit oftrout. "

"I caught them, too, " said I. "That should secure me in my title. "

"Oh! You caught them too, did you! And so you deem yourself entitled tobe a beau of mine? Lana, do you very kindly explain to the unfortunateEnsign that you and I were accustomed at Otsego to a popularity and anadulation of which he has no conception. Colonels and majors were atour feet. Inform him very gently, Lana. "

"Yes, " said Lana, "you behaved very indiscreetly at Otsego Camp, dearone--sitting alone for hours and hours over this young gentleman'sletters----"

"Traitor!" exclaimed Lois, blushing. "It was a letter from hissolicitor, Mr. Hake, that you found me doting on!"

"Did you then hear from Mr. Hake?" I asked, laughing and very happy. 

"Indeed I did, by every post! That respectable Albany gentleman seemedto feel it his duty to write me by every batteau and inquire concerningmy health, happiness, and pleasure, and if I lacked anything on earthto please me. Was it not most extraordinary behaviour, Euan?"

She was laughing when she spoke, and for a moment her eyes grewstrangely tender, but they brightened immediately and she tossed herhead. 

"Oh, Lana!" said she. "I think I may seriously consider Mr. Hake andhis very evident intentions. So I shall require no more beaux, Euan, and thank you kindly for volunteering. Besides, if I want 'em, thiscamp seems moderately furnished with handsome and gallant youngofficers, " she added airily, glancing around her. "Lana! Do you pleaseobserve that tall captain with the red facings! And the otherstaff-major yonder in blue and buff! Is he not beautiful as Apollo? AndI make no doubt that this agreeable young Ensign of ours will presentlymake them known to us for our proper diversion. "

Somehow, now, with the prospect of all these officers besetting herwith their civilities and polite assiduities, nothing of the old andsilly jealousy seemed to stir within me. Perhaps because, although fordays I had not seen her, I knew her better. And also I had begun toknow myself. Even though she loved not me in the manner I desired, yetthe lesser, cruder, and more unworthy solicitude which at first seemedto have possessed me in her regard was now gone. And if inexperienceand youth had inspired me with unworthy jealousies I do not know; but Ido know that I now felt myself older--years older than when first Iknew Lois; and perhaps my being so honestly in love with her wroughtthe respectable change in me. For real love ages the mind, even when itmakes more youthful the body, and so controls both body and mind. And Ithink it was something that way with me. 

Presently, as we sat chattering there, came men to take away Lana's boxto Block-House No. 2 on the peninsula. So Lana went into the bush-hutand refilled and locked the box, and then we all walked together to themilitary works which were being erected on a cleared knoll overlookingboth rivers, and upon which artillerymen were now mounting thethree-pounder and the cohorn, or "grasshopper, " as our men had namedit, because our artillery officers had taken it from its woodencarriage and had mounted it on a tripod. And at every discharge itjumped into the air and kicked over backward. 

This miniature fortress, now called Fort Sullivan, was about threehundred feet square, with strong block-forts at the four corners, sosituated as to command both rivers; and these fortifications were nowso nearly completed that the men of the invalid corps who were togarrison the place had already marched into their barracks, and werenow paraded for inspection. 

The forts had been very solidly constructed of great logs, the serratedpalisade, deeply and solidly embedded, rose twelve feet high. A rifleplatform ran inside this, connecting the rough barracks and stables, which also were built of logs, the crevices stuffed with moss andsmeared and plastered with blue clay from the creek. 

These, with the curtain, block-forts, and a deep ditch over which was alog bridge, composed the military works at Tioga; and this was theplace into which we now walked, a sentry directing us to Block-HouseNo. 2, which overlooked the Chemung. 

And no sooner had we entered and climbed the ladder to the women'squarters overhead, than:

"What luxury!" exclaimed Lois, looking down at her bed of fresh-cutbalsam, over which their blankets had been cast. "Could any reasonablewoman demand more? With a full view of the pretty river in the rain, and a real puncheon floor, and a bed of perfume to dream on, and abrave loop to shoot from! What more could a vain maid ask?" She glancedat me with sweet and humorous eyes, saying: "Fort Orange is no saferthan this log bastion, so scowl on me no more, Euan, but presently takeLanette and me to the parapet where other and lovelier wonders aredoubtless to be seen. "

"What further wonders?" asked Lana indifferently. 

"Why, sky and earth and river, dear, and the little dicky birds alla-preening under this sweet, sunny veil of rain. Is not all thismystery of nature wonderful enough to lure us to the rifle-platform?"

Said Lana listlessly: "I had liefer court a deeper mystery. "

"Which, dear one?"

"Sleep, " said Lana briefly; and I saw how pale she was, kneeling therebeside the opened box and sorting out the simple clothing they hadbrought with them. 

For a few minutes longer we conversed, talking of Otsego and of ourfriends there; and I learned how Colonel Gansevoort had left with hisregiment and Lieutenant-Colonel Willet, and was marching hither withClinton after all. 

A soldier brought a wooden bowl, an iron sap-kettle full of sweetwater, a hewn bench, and nailed up a blanket cutting the room in two. Their quarters were now furnished. 

I pushed aside the blanket, walked to the inner loop, and gazed down onthe miniature parade where the invalids were now being inspected byColonel Shreve. When I returned, Lana had changed to a levete and waslying on her balsam couch, cheek on hand, looking up at Lois, who kneltbeside her on the puncheon floor, smoothing back her thick, brighthair. And in the eyes of these two was an expression the like of whichI had never before seen, and I stepped back instinctively, like a manwho intrudes on privacy unawares. 

"Come in, Euan!" cried Lois, with a gaiety which seemed slightlyforced; and I came, awkwardly, not meeting their eyes, and made for theladder to get myself below. 

Whereat both laughed. Lois rose and went behind the blanket to theloop, and Lana said, with a trace of her former levity:

"Broad-brim! Do you fly blushing from my levete? The Queen of Francereceives in scanter attire, I hear. Sit you on yonder bench and playcourtier amiably for once. "

She seemed so frail and white and young, lying there, her fair hairunpowdered and tumbled about her face--so childlike and helpless--thata strange and inexplicable apprehension filled me; and, scarce thinkingwhat I did, I went over to her and knelt down beside her, putting onearm around her shoulders. 

Her expression, which had been smiling and vaguely audacious, changedsubtly. She lay looking up at me very wistfully for a moment, thenlifted her hands a little way. I laid them to my lips, looking overthem down into her altered eyes. 

"Always, " she said under her breath, "always you have been kind andtrue, Euan, even when I have used you with scant courtesy. "

"You have never used me ill. "

"No--only to plague you as a girl torments what she truly loves. .. . Lois and I have spoken much of you together----" She turned her head. "Where are you, sweeting?"

Lois came from behind the blanket and knelt down so close to me thatthe fragrance of her freshened the air; and once again, as it happenedat the first day's meeting in Westchester, the same thrill invaded me. And I thought of the wild rose that starlight night, and how fitly wasit her symbol and her flower. 

Lana looked at us both, unsmiling; then drew her hands from mine andcrook'd her arms behind her neck, cradling her head on them, looking atus both all the while. Presently her lids drooped on her white cheeks. 

When we rose on tiptoe, I thought she was asleep, but Lois was notcertain; and as we crept out onto the rifle-platform and seatedourselves in a sheltered corner under the parapet, she said uneasily:

"Lanette is a strange maid, Euan. At first I knew she disliked me. Then, of a sudden, one day she came to me and clung like a childafraid. And we loved from that minute. .. . It is strange. "

"Is she ill?"

"In mind, I think. "

"Why?"

"I do not know, Euan. "

"Is it love, think you--her disorder?"

"I do not know, I tell you. Once I thought it was--that. But knew nothow to be certain. "

"Does Boyd still court her?"

"No--I do not know, " she said with a troubled look. 

"Is it that affair which makes her unhappy?"

"I thought so once. They were ever together. Then she avoided him--orseemed to. It was Betty Bleecker who interfered between them. For Mrs. Bleecker was very wrathful, Euan, and Lana's indiscretions maddedher. .. . There was a scene. .. . So Boyd came no more, save when otherofficers came, which was every day. Somehow I have never been certainthat he and Lana did not meet in secret when none suspected. "

"Have you proof?" I asked, cold with rage. 

She shook her head, and her gaze grew vague and remote. After a whileshe seemed to put away her apprehensions, and, smiling, she turned tome, challenging me with her clear, sunny eyes:

"Come, Euan, you shall do me reason, now that my curly pate is innocentof powder, no French red to tint my lips and hide my freckles, and buta linsey-woolsey gown instead of chintz and silk to cover me! So tellme honestly, does not the enchantment break that for a little whileseemed to hold you near me?"

"Do you forget, " said I, "that I first saw my enchantress in rags andtattered shoon?"

"Oh!" she said, tossing her pretty head. "Extremes attract all men. Butnow in this sober and common guise of every day, I am neitherCinderella nor yet the Princess--merely a frowsy, rustic, freckled maidwith a mouth somewhat too large for beauty, and the clipped and curlypoll of a careless boy. And I desire to know, once for all, how I nowsuit you, Euan. "

"You are perfection--once for all. "

"I? What obstinate foolishness you utter! In all seriousness--"

"You are--more beautiful than ever--in all seriousness!"

"What folly!" She began to laugh nervously, then shrugged hershoulders, adding: "This young man is plainly partizan and deaf toreason. "

"Being in love. "

"You! In love! What nonsense!"

"Do you doubt it?"

"Oh!" she said carelessly. "You are in love with love--as all menare--and not particularly in love with me. Men, my dear Euan, aregamblers. When first you saw me in tatters, you laid a wager withyourself that I'd please you in silks. A gay hazard! A sporting wager!And straight you dressed me up to suit you; and being a man, andtherefore conceited, you could scarcely admit that you had lost yourwager to your better senses. Could you? But now you shall admit that inthis frowsy, woollen gown the magic of both Cinderella and the Princessvanishes with yesterday's enchantment, and, instead of Chloe, pink andsimpering, only a sturdy comrade stands revealed who now, as guerdonfor the future, strikes hands with you--like this! Koue!" And with theclear and joyous cry on her lips she struck my palm violently withhers, nor winced under my quick-closing grip. 

"Is all now clear and plain between us, Euan?" she inquired. And itseemed to me that her eagerness and fervour rang false. 

"You can not love me, then?" I asked in a low voice. 

"I? What has love to do with us--here in the woods--and I withoutknowledge and experience----"

"You do not love me, then?"

"I can not. "

"Why?"

She made no answer, but bit her lip. 

"You need not reply, " said I. "Yet--that night I left Otsego--and whenI passed you in the dark--I thought----"

"My heart was full that night! What comrade could feel less and stillpossess a human heart?" she said almost sullenly. 

"Your letter--and mine--encouraged me to believe----"

"I know, " she said, with the curt and almost breathless impatience ofhaste, "but have I ever denied our bond of intimacy, Euan? Closer bondhave I with no man. But it must be a comrade's bond between us. .. . Imeant to make that plain to you--and doubtless, my heart beingfull--and I but a girl--conveyed to you--by what I said--and did----"

"Lois! Is it not in you to love me as a woman loves a man?"

"I told you that when the time arrived I would doubtless be what youwish me to be----"

"You can love me, then?"

"How do I know? You perplex and vex me. Who else would I love but you?Who else is there in the world--except my mother?"

There was a silence; then I said:

"Has this passionate quest of her so wholly absorbed and controlled youthat all else counts as nothing?"

"Yes, yes! You know it. You knew it at Otsego! Nothing else matters. Iwill not permit anything else to matter! And, lest you deem me cold, thankless, inhuman, ask of yourself, Euan, why such a lonely girl as Ishould close her eyes and stop her ears and lock her heart and--andturn her face away when the man--to whom she owes all--to whom sheis--utterly devoted--urges her toward emotions--toward matters strangeto her--and too profound as yet. So I ask you, for a time, to let whatsleeps within us both lie sleeping, undisturbed. There is a love morenatural, more imperious, more passionate still; and--it has led mehere! And I will not confuse it with any other sentiment; nor share itwith any man--not even with you--dear as you have become to me--lonelyas I am, --no, not even with you will I share it! For I have vowed thatI shall never slake my thirst with love save first in her dearembrace. .. . After these wistful, stark, and barren years--loveless, weary, naked, and unkind----" Suddenly she covered her face with herhands, bowing her head to her knees. 

"Yet you bid me hope, Lois?" I asked under my breath. 

She nodded. 

"You make me happy beyond words, " I whispered. 

She looked up from her hands:

"Is that all you required to make you happy?"

"Can I ask more?"

"I--I thought men were more ruthless--more imperious and hotlyimpatient with the mistress of their hearts--if truly I am mistress ofyours, as you tell me. "

"I am impatient only for your happiness; ruthless only to secure it. "

"For my happiness? Not for your own?"

"How can that come to me save when yours comes to you?"

"Oh!. .. I did not understand. I had not thought it mattered verygreatly to men, so that they found their happiness--so that they foundcontentment in their sweethearts' yielding. .. . Then my surrender wouldmean nothing to you unless I yielded happily?"

"Nothing. Good God! In what school have you learned of love!"

She nodded thoughtfully, looking me in the eyes. 

"What you tell me, Euan, is pleasant to think on. It reassures andcomforts; nay, it is the sweetest thing you ever said to me--that youcould find no happiness in my yielding unless I yield happily. .. . Why, Euan, that alone would win me--were it time. It clears up much that Ihave never understood concerning you. .. . Men have not used megently. .. . And then you came. .. . And I thought you must be like theothers, being a man, except that you are the only one to whom I was atall inclined--perhaps because you were from the beginning gentler andmore honest with me. .. . What a way to win a woman's heart! To seek herhappiness first of all!. .. Could you give me to another--if myhappiness required it?"

"What else could I do, Lois?"

"Would you do that!" she demanded hotly. 

"Have I any choice?"

"Not if your strange creed be sincere. Is it sincere?"

"There is no other creed for those who really love. "

"You are wrong, " she said angrily, looking at me with tightened lips. 

"How wrong?"

"Because--I would not give you to another woman, though you cried outfor her till the heavens fell!"

I began to laugh, but her eyes still harboured lightning. 

"You should not go to her, whether or not you loved her!" she repeated. "I would not have it. I would not endure it!"

"Yet--if I loved another----"

"No! That is treason! Your happiness should be in me. And if youwavered I would hold you prisoner against your treacherous and veryself!"

"How could you hold me?"

"What? Why--why--I----" She sat biting her scarlet lips and thinking, with straight brows deeply knitted, her greyish-purple eyes fixed hardon me. Then a slight colour stained her cheeks, and she lookedelsewhere, murmuring: "I do not know how I would hold you prisoner. ButI know I should do it, somehow. "

"I know it, too, " said I, looking at my ring she wore. 

She blushed hotly: "It is well that you do, Euan. Death is the direpenalty if my prisoner escapes!" She hesitated, bit her lip, then addedfaintly: "Death for me, I mean. " After a moment she slowly lifted hereyes to mine, and so still and clear were they that it seemed my regardplunged to the very depths of her. 

"You do love me then, " I said, taking her hand in mine. 

Her face paled, and she caught her breath. 

"Will you not wait--a little while--before you court me?" she faltered. "Will you not wait because I ask it of you?"

"Yes, I will wait. "

"Nor speak of love--until----"

"Nor speak of love until you bid me speak. "

"Nor--caress me--nor touch me--nor look in my eyes--this way----" Herhand had melted somehow closely into mine. We both were trembling now;and she withdrew her hand and slowly pressed it close against herheart, gazing at me in a white and childish wonder, as though dumb andreproachful of some wound that I had dealt her. And as I saw her there, so hurt and white and sweet, all quivering under the first swiftconsciousness of love, I trembled, too, with the fierce desire to takeher in my arms and whisper what was raging in my heart of passionateassurance and devotion. 

And I said nothing, nor did she. But presently the wild-rose tint creptback into her pale cheeks, and her head dropped, and she sat with eyesremote and vaguely sweet, her hands listless in her lap. 

And I, my heart in furious protest, condemned to batter at its walls ina vain summons to the silent lips that should have voiced its everybeat, remained mute in futile and impotent adoration of the miraclelove had wrought under my very eyes. 

Consigned to silence, condemned to patience super-human, I scarce knewhow to conduct. And so cruelly the restraint cut and checked me thatwhat with my perplexity, my happiness, and my wretchedness, I was in aplight. 

No doubt the spectacle that my features presented--a very playgroundfor my varying emotions--was somewhat startling to a maid so new atlove. For, glancing with veiled eyes at me, presently her own eyes flewopen wide. And:

"Euan!" she faltered. "Is aught amiss with you? Are you ill, dear lad?And have not told me?"

Whereat I was confused and hot and vexed; and I told her very plainlywhat it was that ailed me. And now mark! In place of an understandingand sympathy and a nice appreciation of my honourable discomfort, shelaughed; and as her cheeks cooled she laughed the more, tossing backher pretty head while her mirth, now uncontrolled, rippled forth tillthe wild birds, excited, joined in with restless chirping, and asquirrel sprung his elfin rattle overhead. 

"And that, " said I, furious, "is what I get for deferring to yourwishes! I've a mind to kiss you now!"

Breathless, her hands pressed to her breast, she looked at me, and madeas though to speak, but laughter seized her and she surrendered to ithelplessly. 

Whereat I sprang to my feet and marched to the parapet, and she afterme, laying her hand on my arm. 

"Dear lad--I do not mean unkindness. .. . But it is all so new to me--andyou are so tall a man to pull such funny faces--as though love was astomach pain----" She swayed, helpless again with laughter, stillclinging to my arm. 

"If you truly find my features ridiculous----" I began, but her handinstantly closed my lips. I kissed it, however, with angrysatisfaction, and she took it away hurriedly. 

"Are you ashamed--you great, sulky and hulking boy--to take my harmlesspleasantry so uncouthly? And how is this?" says she, stamping her foot. "May I not laugh a little at my lover if I choose? I will have youknow, Euan, that I do what pleases me with mine own, and am not to sitin dread of your displeasure if I have a mind to laugh. "

"It hurt me that you should make a mockery----"

"I made no mockery! I laughed. And you shall know that one day, pleaseGod, I shall laugh at you, plague you, torment you, and----" She lookedat me smilingly, hesitating; then in a low voice: "All my caprices youshall endure as in duty bound. .. . Because your reward shall be--theadoration of one who is at heart--your slave already. .. . And yourdesires will ever be her own--are hers already, Euan. .. . Have I madeamends?"

"More fully than----"

"Then be content, " she said hastily, "and pull me no more lugubriousfaces to fright me. Lord! What a vexing paradox is this young man whosits and glowers and gnaws his lips in the very moment of his victory, while I, his victim, tranquil and happy in defeat, sit calmly tellingmy thoughts like holy beads to salve my new-born soul. Ai-me! There aremany things yet to be learned in this mad world of men. "

We leaned over the parapet, shoulder to shoulder, looking down upon theriver. The rain had ceased, but the sun gleamed only at intervals, andbriefly. 

After a moment she turned and looked at me with her beautiful andcandid eyes--the most honest eyes I ever looked upon. 

"Euan, " she said in a quiet voice, "I know how hard it is for us toremain silent in the first flush of what has so sweetly happened to usboth. I know how natural it is for you to speak of it and for me tolisten. But if I were to listen, now, and when one dear word of yourshad followed another, and the next another still; and when our handshad met, and then our lips--alas, dear lad, I had become so whollyyours, and you had so wholly filled my mind and heart that--I do notknow, but I deeply fear--something of my virgin resolution might relax. The inflexible will--the undeviating obstinacy with which I havepursued my quest as far as this forest place, might falter, be swerved, perhaps, by this new and other passion--for I am as yet ignorant of itsforce and possibilities. I would not have it master me until I am freeto yield. And that freedom can come happily and honourably to me onlywhen I set my foot in Catharines-town. Do you understand me, Euan?"

"Yes. "

"Then--we will not speak of love. Or even let the language of our eyestrouble each other with all we may not say and venture. .. . You will notkiss me, will you? Before I ask it of you?"

"No. "

"Under no provocation? Will you--even if I should ask it?"

"No. "

"I will tell you why, Euan. I have promised myself--it is odd, too, forI first thought of it the day I first laid eyes on you. I said tomyself that, as God had kept me pure in spite of all--I should wishthat the first one ever to touch my lips should be my mother. And Imade that vow--having no doubt of keeping it--until I saw you again----"

"When?"

"When you came to me in Westchester before the storm. "

"Then!" I exclaimed, amazed. 

"Is it not strange, Euan? I know not how it was with me or why, allsuddenly, I seemed to know--seemed to catch a sudden glimmer of mydestiny--a brief, confusing gleam. And only seemed to fear and hateyou--yet, it was not hate or fear, either. .. . And when I came to you inthe rain--there at the stable shed--and when you followed, and gaveyour ring--such hell and heaven as awakened in my heart you could notfathom--nor could I--nor can I yet understand. .. . Do you think I lovedyou even then? Not knowing that I loved you?"

"How could you love me then?"

"God knows. .. . And afterward, on the rock in the moonlight--as you laythere asleep--oh, I knew not what so moved me to leave you my messageand a wild-rose lying there. .. . It was my destiny--my destiny! I seemedto fathom it. .. . For when you spoke to me on the parade at the MiddleFort, such a thrill of happiness possessed me----"

"You rebuked and rebuked me, sweeting!"

"Because all my solicitude was for you, and how it might disgrace you. "

"I could have knelt there at your ragged feet, in sight of all thefort!"

"Could you truly, Euan?"

"As willingly as I kneel at prayer!"

"How dear and gallant and sweet you are to me----" She broke off indismay. "Ai-me! Heaven pity us both, for we are saying what should waitto be said, and have talked of love only while vowing not to do so!. .. Let loose my hand, Euan--that somehow has stolen into yours. Ai-me!This is a very maze I seem to travel in, with every pitfall hiding allI would avoid, and everywhere ambush laid for me. .. . Listen, dear lad, I am more pitifully at your mercy than I dreamed of. Be faithful to myfaithless self that falters. Point out the path from your own strengthand compassion. .. . I--I must find my way to Catharines-town before Ican give myself to thoughts of you--to dreams of all that you inspirein me. "

"Listen, Lois. This fort is as far as you may go. "

"What!"

"Truly, dear maid. It is not alone the perils of an unknown countrythat must check you here. There is a danger that you know not of--thatyou never even heard of. "

"A danger?"

"Worse. A threat of terrors hellish, inconceivable, terrible beyondwords. "

"What do you mean? The hatchet? The stake? Dear lad, may I not thenventure what you soldiers brave so lightly?"

"It is not what we brave that threatens you!"

"What then?" she asked, startled. 

"Dear did you ever learn that you are a 'Hidden Child'?"

"What is that, Euan?"

"Then you do not know?"

She shook her head. 

And so I told her; told her also all that we had guessed concerningher; how that her captive mother, terrified by Amochol and his redacolytes, had concealed her, consecrated her, and, somehow, had found arunner to carry her beyond the doors of the Long House to safety. 

This runner must have written the Iroquois message which I had readamid the corn-husks of her garret. It was all utterly plain andhorrible now, to her and to myself. 

As for the moccasins, the same faithful runner must have carried themto her, year after year, and taken back with him to the desolate motherthe assurance that her child was living and still undiscovered andunharmed by Amochol. 

All this I made plain to her; and I also told her that I, too, was ofthe Hidden Ones; and made it most clear to her who I really was. And Itold her of the Cat-People, and of the Erie, and how the Sorcerer haddefied us and boasted that the Hidden Child should yet die strangledupon the altar of Red Amochol. 

She was quiet and very pale while I was speaking, and at moments hergrey eyes widened with the unearthly horror of the thing; but never atremour touched her, nor did lid or lips quiver or her gaze falter. 

And when I had done she remained silent, looking out over the river atour feet, which was now all crinkling with the sun's bright networkthrough the tracery of leaves. 

"There is a danger to you, " I said, "which will not cease until thisarmy has left the Red Priest dead amid the sacrilegious ashes of hisown vile altar. My Indians have made a vow to leave no Erie, noblasphemous and perverted priest alive. Amochol, the Wyoming Witch, theToad-Woman--all that accursed spawn of Frontenac must die. 

"Major Parr is of the same opinion; Clinton sees the importance ofthis, having had the sense to learn of Amherst how to stop the Senecademons with a stout hempen rope. Two Sachems he hung, and the wholenation cowed down in terror of him while his authority remained. 

"But Amherst left us; and the yelps of the Toad-Woman aroused theSorcerers from their torpor. But I swear to you by St. Catharine, whois the saint of the Iroquois also, that the sway of Amochol shall end, and that he shall lie on his own bloody altar, nor die there before hesees the flames of Catharines-town touch the very heaven of anaffronted God!"

"Can you do this?"

"With God's help and General Sullivan's, " I said cheerfully. "For Idaily pray to the One, and I have the promise of the other that beforeour marching army alarms Catharines-town, I and my Indians and Boyd andhis 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 wasthe Dream Feast, Lois, but Amochol has made of it an orgy unspeakable, where human sacrifices are offered to the Moon Witch, Atensi, and toLeshi and the Stone-Throwers, and the Little People--many of which werenot 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 thiscamp; 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 youunderstand at last. "

She nodded. Presently she rested her pale cheek on her arms and lookedat the reddening edges of the woods. Northwest lay Catharines-town, soMayaro said. And into the northwest her grey eyes now gazed, calmly andsteadily, while the sun went out behind the forest and the high heavenswere plumed with fire. 

Under us the river ran, all pink and primrose, save where deep, glassyshadows bounded it under either bank. The tips of the trees glowed withrosy flame, faded to ashes, then, burnt out, stood once more dark andserrated against the evening sky. 

Suddenly an unearthly cry rang out from somewhere close to the riverbank up stream. Instantly a sentry on the parapet near us fired hispiece. 

"Oh, God! What is it!" faltered Lois, grasping my arm. But I sprang forthe ladder and ran down it; and the scattered soldiers and officersbelow 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 ourcamp behind us. 

"The cattle-guard!" panted an officer at my elbow as we ran up streamalong the river-bank. "The Senecas have made their kill again, Godcurse them!"

It was so. Out of the woods came running our frightened cattle, withthe guard plodding heavily on their flanks; and in the rear two of oursoldiers urged them on with kicks and blow; two more retreatedbackward, facing the dusky forest with levelled muskets, and a thirdstaggered beside them, half carrying, half trailing a man whose headhung down crimsoning the leaves as it dragged over them. 

He had been smoking a cob pipe when the silent assassin's hatchetstruck 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 hehad been scalped, but when we turned him over the loose and horriblefeatures, all wrinkled where the severed brow-muscles had released theskin, left us in no doubt. 

"This man never uttered that abominable cry, " I said, shuddering. "Isthere yet another missing from the guard?"

"Oh, no, sir, " said the soldier who had dragged him. "That there was aheifer bawling when them devils cut her throat. "

He stood scratching his head and gazing blankly down at his deadcomrade. 

"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 rivercame the answering thunder of artillery. Thirteen times did the distantcannon bellow their salute, announcing Clinton's advance, our campswarmed like an excited hive, mounted officers galloping, foot officersrunning, troops tumbling out as the drums rattled the "general" inevery regimental bivouac. 

Colonel Proctor's artillery band marched out toward the landing placeas I entered No. 2 Block-House and ran up the ladder, and I heard theford-guard hurrahing and the garrison troops on the unfinished parapetsanswering them with cheer after cheer. 

At my loud rapping on the flooring, Lois opened the trap for me, herlovely, youthful features flushed with excitement; Lana, behind her, beckoned me; and I sprang up into the loft and paid my duty to themboth. 

"What a noble earthquake of artillery up the river!" said Lois. "Butlerhas no cannon, has he?"

"Not even a grasshopper!" said I gaily. "Those cannon shot areClinton's how d'ye do!"

"Poor's guns, were they not?" asked Lana, striving to smile. "And thatmeans you march away and leave us with 'The World Turned Upside Down!'"And she shrugged her shoulders and whistled a bar of the old-timeBritish air. 

"Come to the parapet!" said Lois impatiently. "For the last few minutesthere has been a sound in the woods--very far away, Euan--yet, if onecould hear so far I would swear that I heard the conch-horn of yourrifles!"

"Did I not tell you she knew it well?" said Lana with her pallid smile, as we opened the massive guard-door, squeezed through the covered way, and came out along the rifle-platform among our noisy soldiers. 

"Listen!" murmured Lois, close at my elbow. "There! It comes again! Doyou not hear it, Euan! That low, long, sustained and heart-thrillingundertone droning in the air through all this tumult!"

And presently I heard the sound--the wondrous melancholy, yet seductivemusic of our conch-horn. Its magic call set my every pulse a-throbbing. All the alluring mystery and solitude, all the sorrow of the wildernesswere in those long-drawn blasts; all the enchantment of the woodland, too, calling, calling to the sons of the forest, riflemen, hunter, Coureur-de-Bois. 

For its elfin monotone was the very voice of the forest itself--thedeep, sweet whisper of virgin wilds, sacred, impenetrable, undefiled, tempting forever the sons of men. 

And now, across the misty river, there was a great tumult of shoutingas the first Otsego batteaux came into view; louder boomed our jollycohorn, leaping high in its sulphurous powder-cloud; and the artilleryband at the landing began to play "Iunadilla, " which so deeplypleasured me that I forgot and caught Lois's hands between my own andpressed them there while her shoulder trembled against mine, and herbreath came faster as the music swung into "The Huron" with a barbaricclash of cymbals. 

It was a wondrous spectacle to see the navy of our Right Wing comingon, the waves slapping on bow and quarter--two hundred and ten loadedbatteaux in line falling grandly down with the smooth and sunlitcurrent, three men to every boat. Then, opposite, a wild flurry ofbugle-horns announced our light infantry; and on they came, our merryGeneral Hand riding ahead. And we saw him dismount, fling his bridle toan orderly, and lifting his sword and belt above his head, wadestraight into the ford. And Asa Chapman and Justus Gaylord guided him. 

After these came the light troops in their cocked hats, guided byFrederick Eveland; then a dun-coloured and dusty column emerged fromthe brilliant green of the woods, a mass of tossing fringes and ringedcoon-tails and flashing rifle-barrels. 

"The Rifles! hurrah for Morgan's men! Ha-i! The Eleventh Virginia!"roared the soldiery all about us, while Lois tightened her arm aroundmine and almost crushed my fingers with her own. 

"There is Major Parr--and Captain Simpson--oh, and yonder minces mymacaroni Ensign!" cried Lois, as the brown column swung straight intothe ford, every rifle lifted, powder-horn and cartouche-box highswinging and glittering in the sun. 

I turned to look for Lana; and first caught sight of the handsomewench, Dolly Glenn. And, following her restless gaze, I saw that Boydhad come up to the rifle-platform to join Lana, and that they stoodtogether at a little distance from us. Also, I noticed that Lana's handwas resting an his arm. In sharp contrast to the excited, cheeringsoldiery thronging the platform, the attitude of these two seemed dulland spiritless; and Boyd looked more frequently at her than on thestirring pageant below; and once, under cover of the movement andtumult, I saw her pale cheek press for a moment against his greenfringed shoulder cape--lightly--only for one brief moment. Yonder wasno coquetry, no caprice of audacity. There was a heart there as heavyas the cheek was pale. It was love and nothing less--the pitifuldevotion of a lass in love whose lover marches on the morrow. Lord--Lord! Had we but known!

As I stood beside Lois, I could not refrain from glancing toward themat moments, not meaning to spy, yet somehow held fascinated andtroubled by what I had seen; for it seemed plain to me that if therewas love there, little of happiness flavored it. Also, whenever Ilooked at them always I saw Dolly Glenn watching Boyd out of her darklybeautiful and hostile eyes. 

And afterward, when our big riflemen marched on to the parade below, and we all hastened down, and the whole fort was a hubbub of cries andcheers and the jolly voices of friends greeting friends--even then Icould scarce keep my eyes from these two and from the Glenn girl. And Iwas glad when a large, fat dame came a-waddling, who proved to be Mrs. Sabin; and she had a cold and baleful eye for Boyd, which his gayspirits and airy blandishments neither softened nor abated. 

Lois made me known to her very innocently and discreetly, and I madeher my best manners; but to my mortification, the disdain in her gazeincreased, as did her stiffness with Boyd and her chilling hauteur. Lord! Here was no friend to men--at least, no friend to young men! ThatI comprehended in a trice; and my chagrin was nothing mended as Icaught a sly glance from the merry and slightly malicious eyes of Boyd. 

"Her husband is a fussy fat-head and she's a basalisk, " he whispered. "I thought she'd bite my head of when the ladies came on under myprotection. "

She was more square and heavily solid than fat, like a squatblock-house; and as I stole another glance at her I wondered how shewas to mount the ladder and get her through the trap above. And byheaven! When the moment came to try it, she could not. She attempted itthrice; and the third effort hung her there, wedged in, squeaking likea fat doe-rabbit--and Boyd and I, stifling with laughter, now pushing, now tugging at her fat ankles. And finally got her out upon the ladderplatform, crimson and speechless in her fury; and we lingered not, butfled together, not daring to face the lady at whose pudgy and netherlimbs we had pulled so heartily. 

"Lord!" said Boyd. "If she complains of us to her Commissary husband, there'll be a new issue not included in his department!"

And it doubled us with laughter to think on't, so that for lack o'breath I sat down upon a log to hold my aching sides. 

"Now, she'll be ever on their heels, " muttered Boyd, "hen-like, malevolent, and unaccountable. No man dare face and flout that lady, whose husband also is utterly subjected. It was Betty Bleecker who sether on me. Well, so no more of yonder ladies save in her bristlingpresence. "

Yet, as it happened, one thing barred Mistress Sabin from a perpetualdomination and sleepless supervision of her charges, and that was thetrap-door. Through it she could not force herself, nor could she comearound by the guard-door, for the covered way would not admit her ampleproportions. She could but mount her guard at the ladder's foot. Andthere were two exits to that garret room. 

That day I would have messed with my own people, Major Parr invitingme, but that our General had all the Otsego officers to dine with himat headquarters, and a huge punch afterward, from which I begged to beexcused, as it was best that I look to my Indians when any rum wasserved in camp. 

Boyd came later to the bush-hut, overflushed with punch, saying that hehad drawn sixty pair of shoes for his men, to spite old Sabin, andmeant to distribute them with music playing; and that afterward I wasto join him at the fort as he had orders for himself and for me fromthe General, and desired to confer with me concerning them. 

Later came word from him that he had a headache and would confer withme on the morrow. Neither did I see Lois again that evening, a gill ofrum having been issued to every man, and I sticking close as awood-tick to my red comrades--indeed, I had them out after sunset towatch the cattle-guard, who were in a sorry pickle, sixty head havingstrayed and two soldiers missing. And the manoeuvres of that same guarddid ever sicken me. 

It proved another bloody story, too, for first we found an ox withthroat cut; and, it being good meat, we ordered it taken in. And then, in the bushes ahead, a soldier begins a-bawling that the devil is inhis horses, and that they have run back into the woods. 

I heard him chasing them, and shouted for him to wait, but the poorfool pays no heed, but runs on after his three horses; and soon hescreams out:

"God a'mighty!" And, "Christ have mercy!"

With that I blow my ranger's whistle, and my Indians pass me likephantoms in the dusk, and I hot-foot after them; but it was too late tosave young Elliott, who lay there dead and already scalped, doubled upin the bed of a little brook, his clenched hand across his eyes and aSeneca knife in his smooth, boyish throat. 

Late that night the Sagamore started, chased, and quickly corneredsomething in a clump of laurel close to the river bank; and my Indiansgathered around like fiercely-whining hounds. It was starlight, but toodark to see, except what was shadowed against the river; so we all layflat, waiting, listening for whatever it was, deer or bear or man. 

Then the Night Hawk, who stood guard at the river, uttered the shrillOneida view-halloo; and into the thicket we all sprang crashing, andstrove to catch the creature alive; but the Sagamore had to strike tosave his own skull; and out of the bushes we dragged one of Amochol'sgreasy-skinned assassins, still writhing, twisting, and clawing as weflung him heavily and like a scotched snake upon the river sand, wherethe Mohican struck him lifeless and ripped the scalp from his oiled andshaven head. 

The Erie's lifeless fist still clutched the painted casse-tete withwhich he had aimed a silently murderous blow at the Sagamore. Grey-Feather drew the death-maul from the dead warrior's grasp, andhanded it to the Siwanois. 

Then Tahoontowhee, straightening his slim, naked figure to its full andgraceful height, raised himself on tiptoe and, placing his hollowedhands to his cheeks, raised the shuddering echoes with the mostterrific note an Indian can utter. 

As the forest rang with the fierce Oneida scalp-yell, very far awayalong the low-browed mountain flank we could hear the far tinkle ofhoof and pebble, where the stolen horses moved; and out of the intenseblackness of the hills came faintly the answering defiance of theSenecas, and the hideous miauling of the Eries, quavering, shuddering, dying into the tremendous stillness of the Dark Empire which we hadinsulted, challenged, and which we were now about to brave. 

Once more Tahoontowhee's piercing defiance split the quivering silence;once more the whining panther cry of the Cat-People floated backthrough the far darkness. 

Then we turned away toward our pickets; and, as we filed into ourlines, I could smell the paint and oil on the scalp that the Siwanoishad taken. And it smelled rank enough, God wot!

About nine on Monday morning the entire camp was alarmed by irregularand heavy firing along the river; but it proved to be my riflemenclearing their pieces; which did mortify General Clinton, and was thesubject of a blunt order from headquarters, and a blunter rebuke fromMajor Parr to Boyd, who, I am inclined to think, did do this out ofsheer deviltry. For that schoolboy delight of mischief which never, while he lived, was entirely quenched, was ever sparkling in thosehandsome and roving eyes of his. For which our riflemen adored him, being by every instinct reckless and irresponsible themselves, and onlyheld to discipline by their worship of Daniel Morgan, and the uprightcharacter and the iron rigour of Major Parr. 

Not that the 11th Virginia ever shrank from duty. No regiment in theContinental army had a prouder record. But the men of that corps weredrawn mostly from those free-limbed, free-thinking, powerful, headlong, and sometimes ruthless backwoodsmen who carried law into regions wherenone but Nature's had ever before existed. And the law they carried wastheir own. 

It was a reproach to us that we scalped our red enemies. No officer inthe corps could prevent these men from answering an Indian's insultwith another of the same kind. And there remained always men in thatcommand who took their scalps as carelessly as they clipped a catamountof ears and pads. 

As for my special detail, I understood perfectly that I could no moreprevent my Indians from scalping enemies of their own race than I couldwhistle a wolf-pack up wind. But I could stop their lifting the hairfrom a dead man of my own race, and had made them understand veryplainly that any such attempt would be instantly punished as a personalinsult to myself. Which every warrior understood. And I have oftenwondered why other officers commanding Indians, and who were evercomplaining that they could not prevent scalping of white enemies, didnot employ this argument, and enforce it, too. For had one of my men, no matter which one, disobeyed, I would have had him triced up in atwinkling and given a hundred lashes. 

Which meant, also, that I would have had to kill him sooner or later. 

There was a stink of rum in camp that morning and it is a quaffingbeverage which while I like to drink it in punch, the smell of itabhors me. And ever and anon my Indians lifted their noses, snifflingthe tainted air; so that I was glad when a note was handed me from Boydsaying that we were to take a forest stroll with my Indians around theherd-guard, during which time he would unfold to me his plans. 

So I started for the fort, my little party carrying rifles and sidearmsbut no packs; and there waited across the ditch in the sunshine myIndians, cross-legged in a row on the grass, and gravely cracking andmunching the sweet, green hazelnuts with which these woods abound. 

On the parade inside the fort, and out o' the tail of my eye, I sawMistress Sabin knitting on a rustic settle at the base of Block-houseNo. 2, and Captain Sabin beside her writing fussily in a large, leather-bound book. 

She did not know that the dovecote overhead was now empty, and that thepigeons had flown; nor did I myself suspect such a business, even whenfrom the woods behind me came the low sound of a ranger's whistle blownvery softly. I turned my head and saw Boyd beckoning; and arose andwent thither, my Indians trotting at my heels. 

Then, as I came up and stood to offer the officer's salute, Loisstepped from behind a tree, laughing and laying her finger across herlips, but extending her other hand to me. 

And there was Lana, too, paler it seemed to me than ever, yet sweet andsimple in her greeting. 

"The ladies desire to see our cattle, " said Boyd, "The herd-guard isdoubled, our pickets trebled, and the rounds pass every half hour. Soit is safe enough, I think. "

"Yet, scarce the country for a picnic, " I said, looking uneasily atLois. 

"Oh, Broad-brim, Broad-brim!" quoth she. "Is there any spice in life tocompare to a little dash o' danger?"

Whereat I smiled at her heartily, and said to Boyd:

"We pass not outside our lines, of course. "

"Oh, no!" he answered carelessly. Which left me still reluctant andunconvinced. But he walked forward with Lana through the open forest, and I followed beside Lois; and, without any signal from me my Indiansquietly glided out ahead, silently extending as flankers on either side. 

"Do you notice what they are about?" said I sourly. "Even here withinwhisper of the fort?"

"Are you not happy to see me, Euan?" she cooed close to my ear. 

"Not here; inside that log curtain yonder. "

"But there is a dragon yonder, " she whispered, with mischief adorablein her sparkling eyes; then slipped hastily beyond my reach, saying:"Oh, Euan! Forget not our vows, but let our conduct remain seemlystill, else I return. "

I had no choice, for we were now passing our inner pickets, where aline of bush-huts, widely set, circled the main camp. There were somefew people wandering along this line--officers, servants, boatmen, soldiers off duty, one or two women. 

Just within the lines there was a group of people from which a fiddlesounded; and I saw Boyd and Lana turn thither; and we followed them. 

Coming up to see who was making such scare-crow music, Lana said in alow voice to us:

"It's an old, old man--more than a hundred years old, he tells us--whohas lived on the Ouleout undisturbed among the Indians until yesterday, when we burnt the village. And now he has come to us for food andprotection. Is it not pitiful?"

I had a hard dollar in my pouch, and went to him and offered it. Boydhad Continental money, and gave him a handful. 

He was not very feeble, this ancient creature, yet, except amongIndians who live sometimes for more than a hundred years, I think Inever before saw such an aged visage, all cracked into a thousandwrinkles, and his little, bluish eyes peering out at us through a sortof film. 

To smile, he displayed his shrivelled gums, then picked up his fiddlewith an agility somewhat surprising, and drew the bow harshly, sayingin his cracked voice that he would, to oblige us, sing for us a balladmade in 1690; and that he himself had ridden in the company of horsetherein described, being at that time thirteen years of age. 

And Lord! But it was a doleful ballad, yet our soldiers listened, fascinated, to his squeaking voice and fiddle; and I saw the tearsstanding in Lois's eyes, and Lana's lips a-quiver. As for Boyd, heyawned, and I most devoutly wished us all elsewhere, yet lost no wordof his distressing tale:

 "God prosper long our King and Queen, Our lives and safeties all; A sad misfortune once there did Schenectady befall. 

 "From forth the woods of Canady The Frenchmen tooke their way, The people of Schenectady To captivate and slay. 

 "They march for two and twenty daies, All thro' ye deepest snow; And on a dismal winter night They strucke ye cruel blow. 

 "The lightsome sunne that rules the day Had gone down in the West; And eke the drowsie villagers Had sought and found their reste. 

 "They thought they were in safetie all, Nor dreamt not of the foe; But att midnight they all swoke In wonderment and woe. 

 "For they were in their pleasant beddes, And soundlie sleeping, when Each door was sudden open broke By six or seven menne!

 "The menne and women, younge and olde, And eke the girls and boys, All started up in great affright Att the alarming noise. 

 "They then were murthered in their beddes Without shame or remorse; And soon the floors and streets were strew'd With many a bleeding corse. 

 "The village soon began to blaze, Which shew'd the horrid sight; But, O, I scarce can beare to tell The mis'ries of that night. 

 "They threw the infants in the fire, The menne they did not spare; But killed all which they could find, Tho' aged or tho' fair. 

 . . . . . . 

 . . . . . . 

 "But some run off to Albany And told the doleful tale; Yett, tho' we gave our chearful aid, It did not much avail. 

 "And we were horribly afraid, And shook with terror, when They gave account the Frenchmen were More than a thousand menne. 

 "The news came on a Sabbath morn, Just att ye break o' day; And with my companie of horse I galloped away. 

 "Our soldiers fell upon their reare, And killed twenty-five; Our young menne were so much enrag'd They took scarce one alive. 

 "D'Aillebout them did command, Which were but thievish rogues, Else why did they consent to goe With bloodye Indian dogges?

 "And here I end my long ballad, The which you just heard said; And wish that it may stay on earth Long after I be dead. "

The old man bowed his palsied head over his fiddle, struck with hiswrinkled thumb a string or two; and I saw tears falling from his almostsightless eyes. 

Around him, under the giant trees, his homely audience stood silent andspellbound. Many of his hearers had seen with their own eyes horrorsthat compared with the infamous butchery at Schenectady almost ahundred years ago. Doubtless that was what fascinated us all. 

But Boyd, on whom nothing doleful made anything except an irritableimpression, drew us away, saying that it was tiresome enough to fightbattles without being forced to listen to the account of 'em afterward;at which, it being true enough, I laughed. And Lois looked up winkingaway her tears with a quick smile. As for Lana, her face was tragic andcolourless as death itself. Seeing which, Boyd said cheerfully:

"What is there in all the world to sigh about, Lanette? Death is faraway and the woods are green. "

"The woods are green, " repeated Lana under her breath, "yet, there aremany within call who shall not live to see one leaf fall. "

"Why, what a very dirge you sing this sunny morning!" he protested, still laughing; and I, too, was surprised and disturbed, for never hadI heard Lana Helmer speak in such a manner. 

"'Twas that dreary old fiddler, " he added with a shrug. "Now, God saveus all, from croaking birds of every plumage, and give us to live forthe golden moment. "

"And for the future, " said Lois. 

"The devil take the future, " said Boyd, his quick, careless laughringing out again. "Today I am lieutenant, and Loskiel, here, isensign. Tomorrow we may be captains or corpses. But is that a reasonfor pulling a long face and confessing every sin?"

"Have you, then, aught to confess?" asked Lois, in pretense of surprise. 

"I? Not a peccadillo, my pretty maid--not a single one. What I do, Ido; and ask no leniency for the doing. Therefore, I have nothing toconfess. "

Lana stopped, bent low over a forest blossom, and touched her face toit. Her cheeks were burning. All about us these frail, snowy blossomsgrew, and Lois gathered one here and yonder while Boyd and I threwourselves down on a vast, deep bed of moss, under which a thread of icywater trickled. 

Ahead of us, in plain view, stood one of our outer picket guards, andbelow in a wide and bowl-shaped hollow, running south to the river, wecould see cattle moving amid the trees, and the rifle-barrel of a herdguard shining here and there. 

My Indians on either flank advanced to the picket line, and squattedthere, paying no heed to the challenge of the sentinels, until Boyd wasobliged to go forward and satisfy the sullen Pennsylvania soldiery onduty there. 

He came back in his graceful, swinging stride, chewing a twig ofblack-birch, his thumbs hooked in his belt, damning all Pennsylvaniansfor surly dogs. 

I pointed out that many of them were as loyal as any man among us; andhe said he meant the Quakers only, and cursed them for rascals, everyone. Again I reminded him that Alsop Hunt was a Quaker; and he saidthat he meant not the Westchester folk, but John Penn's people, Tories, every one, who would have hired ruffians to do to the Connecticutpeople in Forty Fort what later was done to them by Indians and Toryrangers. 

Lana protested in behalf of the Shippens in Philadelphia, but Boyd saidthey were all tarred with the same brush, and all were selfish andmurderous, lacking only the courage to bite--yes, every Quaker inPenn's Proprietary--the Shippens, Griscoms, Pembertons, Norrises, Whartons, Baileys, Barkers, Storys--"'Every damned one o' them!" hesaid, "devised that scheme for the wanton and cruel massacre of theWyoming settlers, and meant to turn it to their own pecuniary profit!"

He was more than partly right; yet, knowing many of these to be friendsand kinsmen to Lana Helmer, he might have more gracefully remainedsilent. But Boyd had not that instinctive dread of hurting others withill-considered facts; he blurted out all truths, whether timely oruntimely, wherever and whenever it suited him. 

For the Tory Quakers he mentioned I had no more respect than had he, they being neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, but a smooth, sanctimoniousand treacherous lot, more calculated to work us mischief because oftheir superior education and financial means. Indeed, they generallyremained undisturbed by the ferocious Iroquois allies of our late andgentle King; secure in their property and lives while all around themmen, women, and little children fell under the dripping hatchets. 

"Had I my say, " remarked Boyd loudly, "I'd take a regiment and scour meout these rattlesnakes from the Proprietary, and pack 'em off toprison, bag and baggage!"

Lana had knelt, making a cup of her hand, and was drinking from thesilvery thread of water at our feet. Now, as Boyd spoke, shestraightened up and cast a shower of sparkling drops in his face, saying calmly that she prayed God he might have the like done for himwhen next he needed a cooling off. 

"Lanette, " said he, disconcerted but laughing, "do you mean in hell orat the Iroquois stake?"

Whereupon Lana flushed and said somewhat violently that he should notmake a jest of either hell or stake; and that she for one marvelled athis ill-timed pleasantries and unbecoming jests. 

So here was a pretty quarrel already sur le tapis; but neither I norLois interposed, and Lana, pink and angry, seated herself on the mossand gazed steadily at our watchful Indians. But in her fixed gaze I sawthe faint glimmer of tears. 

After a moment Boyd got up, went down to her, and asked her pardon. Shemade no answer; they remained looking at each other for another second, then both smiled, and Boyd lay down at her feet, resting his elbow onthe moss and his cheek on his hand, so that he could converse with meacross her shoulder. 

And first he cautioned both Lana and Lois to keep secret whatever wasto be said between us two, then, nodding gaily at me:

"You were quite right, Loskiel, in speaking to the General about theproper trap for this Wizard-Sachem Amochol, who is inflaming the entireSeneca nation to such a fury. "

"I know no other way to take and destroy him, " said I. 

"There is no other way. It must be done secretly, and by a small partymanoeuvring ahead and independently of our main force. "

"Are you to command?" I asked. 

"I am to have that honour, " he said eagerly, "and I take you, yoursavages, and twenty riflemen----"

"What is this?" said Lana sharply; but he lifted an impatient hand andwent on in his quick, interested manner, to detail to me the plan hehad conceived for striking Amochol at Catharines-town, in the verymidst of the Onon-hou-aroria. 

"Last night, " he said, "I sent out Hanierri and Iaowania, theheadquarters scouts; and I'm sorry I did, for they came in this morningwith their tails between their legs, saying the forest swarmed with theSeneca scouts, and it was death to stir. 

"And I was that disgusted--what with their cowardice and the aftermathof that headquarters punch--that I bade them go paint and sing theirdeath-songs----"

"Oh, Lord! You should not lose your temper with an Indian!" I said, vexed at his indiscretion. 

"I know it. I'll not interfere with your tame wolves, Loskiel. ButHanierri madded me; and now he's told Dominie Kirkland's prayingIndians, and not one o' them will stir from Tioga--the chicken-heartedknaves! What do you think of that, Loskiel?"

"I am sorry. But we really need no other Indians than my Sagamore, thetwo Oneidas, and the Stockbridge, Yellow Moth, to do Amochol's businessfor him, if you and your twenty riflemen are going. "

"I think as you do; and so I told the General, who wanted Major Parr tocommand and the entire battalion to march. 'Oh, Lord!' says I. 'Bestbring Colonel Proctor's artillery band, also!' And was frightenedafterward at what I said, with so little reflection and respect; butthe General, who had turned red as a pippin, burst out laughing andsays he: 'You are a damnably disrespectful young man, sir, but you andyour friend Loskiel may suit yourselves concerning the taking of thissame Amochol. Only have a care to take or destroy him, for if you donot, by God, you shall be detailed to the batteaux and cool your heelsin Fort Sullivan until we return!'"

We both laughed heartily, and Boyd added:

"He said it to fright me for my impudence. Trust that man to know a manwhen he sees one!"

"Meaning yourself?" said I, convulsed. 

"And you, too, Loskiel, " he said so naively that Lois, too, laughed, exclaiming:

"What modest opinions of themselves have these two boys! Do you hearthem, Lana, dubbing each other men?"

"I hear, " said Lana listlessly. 

Boyd plucked a long, feathery stalk, and with its tip caressed Lana'scheeks. 

"Spiders!" said he. "Spinning a goblin veil for you!"

"I wish the veil of Fate were as transparent, " said she. 

"Would you see behind it if you could?"

She said under her breath:

"I sometimes dream I see behind it now. "

"What do you see?" he asked. 

She shook her head; but we all begged her to disclose her dreams, saying laughingly that as dreams were the most important things in thelives of all Indians, our close association with them had rendered uscredulous. 

"Come, Lanette, " urged Boyd, "tell us what it is you see in dreamsbehind the veil. "

She hesitated, shuddered:

"Flames--always flames. And a man in black with leaden buttons, whoseface is always hidden in his cloak. But, oh! I know--I seem to knowthat he has no face at all, but is like a skull under his black cloak. "

"A merry dream, " said Boyd, laughing. 

"Is there more to it?" asked Lois seriously. 

"Yes. .. . Lieutenant Boyd is there, and he makes a sign--like this----"

"What!" exclaimed Boyd, sitting up, astounded. "Where did you learnthat sign?"

"In my dream. What does it mean?"

"Make it no more, Lana, " he said, in a curiously disturbed voice. "Forwherever you have learned it--if truly from a dream, or from somecareless fellow--of my own----" He hesitated, glanced at me. "You arenot a Mason, Loskiel. And Lana has just given the Masonic signal ofdistress--having seen me give it in a dream. It is odd. " He sat verysilent for a moment, then lay down again at Lana's feet; and for alittle while they conversed in whispers, as though forgetting that wewere there at all, his handsome head resting against her knees, and herhand touching the hair on his forehead lightly at intervals. 

After a few moments I rose and, with Lois, walked forward toward ourpicket line, from where we could see very plainly the great cattle herdamong the trees along the river. 

She said in a low and troubled voice:

"It has come so far, then, that Lana makes no longer a disguise of hersentiments before you and me. It seems as though they had bewitchedeach other--and find scant happiness in the mutual infatuation. "

I said nothing. 

"Is he not free to marry her?" asked Lois. 

"Why, yes--I suppose he is--if she will have him, " I said, startled bythe direct question. "Why not?"

"I don't know. Once, at Otsego Camp I overheard bitter words betweenthem--not from him, for he only laughed at what she said. It was in thedusk, close to our tent; and either they were careless or thought Islept. .. . And I heard her say that he was neither free nor fit to speakof marriage. And he laughed and vowed that he was as free and fit aswas any man. 'No, ' says she, 'there are other men like Euan Loskiel inthe world. ' 'Exceptions prove the case, ' says he, laughing; and therewas a great sob in her voice as she answered that such men as he wereborn to damn women. And he retorted coolly that it was such women asshe who ever furnished the provocation, but that only women could losetheir own souls, and that it was the same with men; but neither of 'emcould or ever had contributed one iota toward the destruction of anysoul except their own. .. . Then Lana came into our tent and stoodlooking down at me where I lay; and dimly through my lashes I couldperceive the shadow of Boyd behind her on the tent wall, wavering, gigantic, towering to the ridge-pole as he set the camp-torch in itssocket on the flooring. " She passed her slim hand across her eyes. "Itwas like an unreal scene--a fevered vision of two phantoms in thesmoky, lurid lustre of the torch. Boyd stood there dark against thelight, edged with flickering flame as with a mantle, figure and visagescintilant with Lucifer's own beauty--and Lana, her proud headdrooping, and her sad, young eyes fixed on me--Oh, Euan!" She stoodpressing down both eyelids with her fingers, motionless; then, with aquick-drawn breath and a brusque gesture, flung her arms wide and letthem drop to her sides. "How can men follow what they call their'fortune, ' headlong, unheeding, ranging through the world as ahot-jowled hound ranges for rabbits? Are they never satiated? Are theynever done with the ruthless madness? Does the endless chase with itsintervals of killing never pall?"

"Hounds are hounds, " I said slowly. "And the hound will chase histhousandth hare with all the unslaked eagerness that thrilled him whenhis first quarry fled before him. "

"Why?"

But I shook my head in silence. 

"Are you that way?"

"I have not been. "

"The instinct then is not within you?"

"Yes, the instinct is. .. . But some hounds are trained to range only asfar as their mistress, Old Dame Reason, permits. Others slip leash andtake to the runways to range uncontrolled and mastered only by a darkand second self, urging them ever forward. .. . There are but two kindsof men, Lois--the self-disciplined, and the unbroken. But the rawnature of the two differed nothing at their birth. "

She stood looking down at the distant cattle along the river for awhile without speaking; then her hand, which hung beside her, soughtmine and softly rested within my clasp. 

"It is wonderful, " she murmured, "that it has been God's pleasure Ishould come to you unblemished--after all that I have lived to learnand see. But more wonderful and blessed still it is to me to find youwhat you are amid this restless, lawless, ruthless world ofsoldiery--upright and pure in heart. .. . It seems almost, with us, asthough our mothers had truly made of us two Hidden Children, white andmysterious within the enchanted husks, which only our own hands maystrip from us, and reveal ourselves unsullied as God made us, each tothe other--on our wedding morn. "

I lifted her little hand and laid my lips to it, touching the ring. Then she bent timidly and kissed the rough gold circlet where my lipshad rested. Somehow, a shaft of sunlight had penetrated the green roofabove, and slanted across her hair, so that the lovely contour of herhead was delicately edged with light. 

* "Nene-nea-wen-ne, Lois!" I whispered passionately. 

[* "This thing shall happen, Lois!"]

* "Nen-ya-wen-ne, O Loskiel! Teni-non-wes. "

[* "It shall happen, O Loskiel! We love, thou and I. "]

We stood yet a while together there, and I saw her lift her eyes andgaze straight ahead of us beyond our picket line, and remain so, gazingas though her regard could penetrate those dim and silent forest aislesto the red altar far beyond in unseen Catharines-town. 

"When must you go?" she asked under her breath. 

"The army is making ready today. "

"To march into the Indian country?"

I nodded. 

"When does it march?"

"On Friday. But that is not to be known at present. "

"I understand. By what route do you go?"

"By Chemung. "

"And then?"

"At Chemung we leave the army, Boyd and I. You heard. "

"Yes, Euan. "

I said, forcing myself to speak lightly:

"You are not to be afraid for us, Little Rosy Pigeon of the Forest. Follow me with your swift-winged thoughts and no harm shall come to me. "

"Must you go?"

I laughed: * "Ka-teri-oseres, Lois. "

[* "I am going to this war, Lois. "]

* "Wa-ka-ton-te-tsihon, " she said calmly. "Wa-ka-ta-tiats-kon. "

[* "I understand perfectly. I am resigned. "]

Then I gave way to my increasing surprise:

"Wonder-child!" I exclaimed. "When and where have you learned tounderstand and answer me in the tongue of the Long House?"

* "Kio-ten-se, " she said with a faint smile. 

[* "I am working for somebody. "]

"For whom?"

"For my mother, Euan. Did you suppose I could neglect anything thatmight be useful in my life's quest? Who knows when I might need thetongue I am slowly learning to speak?. .. Oh, and I know so little, yet. Something of Algonquin the Mohican taught me; and with it a little ofthe Huron tongue. And now for nearly a month every day I have learned alittle from the Oneidas at Otsego--from the Oneida girl whose bridaldress you bought to give to me. Do you remember her? The maid calledDrooping Wings?"

"Yes--but--I do not understand. To what end is all this? When and whereis your knowledge of the Iroquois tongue likely to aid you?"

She gave me a curious, veiled look--then turned her face away. 

"You do not dream of following our army, do you?" I demanded. "Not onewoman would be permitted to go. It is utterly useless for you to expectit, folly to dream of such a thing. .. . You and Lana are to go to Eastonas soon as the heavier artillery is sent down the river, which will bethe day we start--Friday. This frontier gypsying is ended--all thiscoquetting with danger is over now. The fort here is no place for youand Lana. Your visit, brief as it has been, is rash and unwarranted. And I tell you very plainly, Lois, that I shall never rest until youare at Easton, which is a stone town and within the borders ofcivilization. The artillery will be sent down by boat, and all thewomen and children are to go also. Neither Boyd nor I have told this toyou and Lana, but----" I glanced over my shoulder. "I think he istelling her now. "

Lois slowly turned and looked toward them. Evidently they no longercared what others saw or thought, for Lana's cheek lay pressed againsthis shoulder, and his arm encircled her body. 

We walked back, all together, to the fort, and left Lois and Lana atthe postern; then Boyd and I continued on to my bush-hut, the Indiansfollowing. 

Muffled drums of a regiment were passing, and an escort with reversedarms, to bury poor Kimball, Captain in Colonel Cilly's command, shotthis morning through the heart by the accidental discharge of a musketin the careless hands of one of his own men. 

We stood at salute while the slow cortege passed. 

Said Boyd thoughtfully:

"Well, Kimball's done with all earthly worries. There are those whomight envy him. "

"You are not one, " I said bluntly. 

"I? No. I have not yet played hard enough in the jolly blind man'sbuff--which others call the game of life. I wear the bandage still, andstill my hands clutch at the empty air, and in my ears the world'ssweet laughter rings----" He smiled, then shrugged. "The charm ofFortune's bag is not what you pull from it, but what remains within. "

"Boyd, " I said abruptly. "Who is that handsome wench that followed usfrom Otsego?"

"Dolly Glenn?"

"That is her name. "

"Lord, how she pesters me!" he said fretfully. "I chanced upon her atthe Middle Fort one evening--down by the river. And what are ourwenches coming to, " he exclaimed impatiently, "that a kiss on asummer's night should mean to them more than a kiss on a night insummer!"

"She is a laundress, is she not?"

"How do I know? A tailoress, too, I believe, for she has patched andmended for me; and she madded me because she would take no pay. Thereare times, " he added, "when sentiment is inconvenient----"

"Poor thing, " I said. 

"My God, why? When I slipped my arm around her she put up her face tobe kissed. It was give and take, and no harm done--and the moona-laughing at us both. And why the devil she should look at mereproachfully is more than I can comprehend. "

"It seems a cruel business, " said I. 

"Cruel!"

"Aye--to awake a heart and pass your way a-whistling. "

"Now, Loskiel, " he began, plainly vexed, "I am not cruel by nature, andyou know it well enough. Men kiss and go their way----"

"But women linger still. "

"Not those I've known. "

"Yet, here is one----"

"A silly fancy that will pass with her. Lord! Do you think a gentlemanaccountable to every pretty chit of a girl he notices on his waythrough life?"

"Some dare believe so. "

He stared at me, then laughed. 

"You are different to other men, of course, " he said gaily. "We allunderstand that. So let it go----"

"One moment, Boyd. There is a matter I must speak of--becausefriendship and loyalty to a childhood friend both warrant it. Can youtell me why Lana Helmer is unhappy?"

A dark red flush surged up to the roots of his hair, and the muscles inhis jaw tightened. He remained a moment mute and motionless, staring atme. But if my question, for the first moment, had enraged him, thatquickly died out; and into his eyes there came a haggard look such as Ihad never seen there. 

He said slowly:

"Were you not the man you are, Loskiel, I had answered in a manner youmight scarcely relish. Now, I answer you that if Lana is unhappy I ammore so. And that our unhappiness is totally unnecessary--if she wouldbut listen to what I say to her. "

"And what is it that you say to her?" I inquired as coolly as thoughhis answer might not very easily be a slap with his fringed sleeveacross my face. 

"I have asked her to marry me, " he said. "Do you understand why I tellyou this?"

I shook my head. 

"To avoid killing you at twenty paces across the river. .. . I had rathertell you than do that. "

"So that you have told me, " said I, "the reason for your tellingmatters nothing. And my business with you ends with your answer. .. . Only--she is my friend, Boyd--a playmate of pleasant days. And if youcan efface that wretchedness from her face--brighten the quenchedsparkle of her eyes, paint her cheeks with rose again--do it, in God'sname, and make of me a friend for life. "

"Shall I tell you what has gone amiss--from the very first there atOtsego?"

"No--that concerns not me----"

"Yes, I shall tell you! It's that she knew about--the wench here--DollyGlenn. "

"Is that why she refuses you and elects to remain unhappy?" I saidincredulously. 

"Yes--I can say no more. .. . You are right, Loskiel, and such men as Iare wrong--utterly and wretchedly wrong. Sooner or later comes the boltof lightning. Hell! To think that wench should hurl it!"

"But what bolt had she to hurl?" said I, astonished. 

He reddened, bit his lip savagely, made as though to speak, then, witha violent gesture, turned away. 

A few moments later a cannon shot sounded. It was the signal forstriking tents and packing up; and in every regiment hurry andconfusion reigned and the whole camp swarmed with busy soldiery. 

But toward evening orders came to unpack and pitch tents again; andwhether it had been an exercise to test the quickness of our army formarching, or whether some accident postponed the advance, I do not know. 

All that evening, being on duty with my Indians to watch thecattle-guard, I did not see Lois. 

The next day I was ordered to take the Indians a mile or two towardChemung and lie there till relieved; so we went very early and remainednear the creek on observation, seeing nothing, until evening, when therelief came with Hanierri and three Stockbridges. These gave us anaccount that another soldier had been shot in camp by the accidentaldischarge of a musket, and that the Light Troops had marched out oftheir old encampment and had pitched tents one hundred rods in advance. 

Also, they informed us that the flying hospital and stores had beenremoved to the fort, and that Colonel Shreve had taken over the commandof that place. 

By reason of the darkness, we were late in getting into camp, so againthat day I saw nothing of Lois. 

On Wednesday it rained heavily about eleven o'clock, and the troopsmade no movement. Some Oneidas came in and went to headquarters. MyIndians did not seem to know them. 

I was on duty all day at headquarters, translating into Iroquois forthe General a speech which he meant to deliver to the Tuscaroras on hisreturn through Easton. The rain ceased late in the afternoon. Later, anexpress came through from Fort Pitt; and before evening orders had goneout that the entire army was to march at eight o'clock in the morning. 

Morning came with a booming of cannon. We did not stir. 

Toward eleven, however, the army began to march out as though departingin earnest; but as Major Parr remained with the Rifles, I knewsomething had gone amiss. 

Yet, the other regiments, including my own, marched away gaily enough, with music sounding and colours displayed; and the garrison, boatmen, artillerymen, and all the civil servants and women and children wavedthem adieu from the parapets of the fort. 

But high water at Tioga ford, a mile or two above, soon checked them, and there they remained that night. As I was again on duty withHanierri and the Dominie, I saw not Lois that day. 

Friday was fair and sunny, and the ground dried out. And all themorning I was with Dominie Kirkland and Hanierri, translating, transcribing, and writing out the various speeches and addresses leftfor me by General Sullivan. 

Runners came in toward noon with news that our main forces had encampedat the pass before Chemung, and were there awaiting us. 

Murphy, the rifleman, came saying that our detail was packing up at thefort, that Major Parr had sent word for Lieutenant Boyd to strike tentsand pull foot, and that the boats were now making ready to drop downthe river with the non-combatants. 

My pack, and those of my Indians, had been prepared for days, and therewas little for me to do to make ready. Some batt-men carried mymilitary chest to the fort, where it was bestowed with the officers'baggage until we returned. 

Then I hastened away to the fort and discovered our twenty riflemenparaded there, and Boyd inspecting them and their packs. His faceseemed very haggard under its dark coat of sunburn, but he returned mysalute with a smile, and presently came over to where I stood, sayingcoolly enough:

"I have made my adieux to the ladies. They are at the landing placeexpecting you. Best not linger. We should reach Chemung by dusk. "

"My Indians are ready, " said I. 

"Very well, " he said absently, and returned to his men, continuing hiscareful inspection. 

As I passed the log bridge, I saw Dolly Glenn standing there with afrightened look on her face, but she paid no heed to me, and I went onstill haunted by the girl's expression. 

A throng of people--civilians and soldiers--were at the landing. Theredoubtable Mrs. Sabin was bustling about a batteau, terrorizing itscrew and bullying the servants, who were stowing away her property. Looking about me, I finally discovered Lois and Lana standing on theshore a little way down stream, and hastened to them. 

Lana was as white as a ghost, but to my surprise Lois seemed cheerfuland in gayest spirits, and laughed when I saluted her hand. And itrelieved me greatly to find her so animated and full of confidence thatall would be well with us, and the parting but a brief one. 

"I know in my heart it will be brief, " she said smilingly, andpermitting both her hands to remain in mine. "Soon, very soon, we shallbe again together, Euan, and this interrupted fairy tale, so prettilybegun by you and me, shall be once more resumed. "

"To no fairy finish, " I said, "but in sober reality. "

She looked at Lana, laughing:

"What a lad is this, dear! How can a fairy tale be ever real? Yet, heis a magician like Okwencha, this tall young Ensign of mine, and I makeno doubt that his wizardry can change fancy to fact in the twinkling ofan eye. Indeed, I think I, too, am something of a witch. Shall I makemagic for you, Euan? What most of anything on earth would you care tosee tonight?"

"You, Lois. "

"Hai-e! That is easy. I will some night send to you my spirit, and itshall be so like me and so vivid nay, so warm and breathing--that youshall think to even touch it. .. . Shall I do this with a spell?"

"I only have to close my eyes and see you. Make it that I can alsotouch you. "

"It shall be done. "

We both were smiling, and I for one was forcing my gay spirits, for nowthat the moment had arrived, I knew that chance might well make of ourgay adieux an endless separation. 

Lana had wandered a little way apart; I glanced at Lois, then turnedand joined her. She laid her hand on my arm, as though her knees couldscarcely prop her, and turned to me a deathly face. 

"Euan, " she breathed, "I have said adieu to him. Somehow, I know thathe and I shall never meet again. .. . Tell him I pray for him--for hissoul. .. . And mine. .. . And that before he goes he shall do the thing Ibid him do. .. . And if he will not--tell him I ask God's mercy onhim. .. . Tell him that, Euan. "

"Yes, " I said, awed. 

She stood resting her arm on mine to support her, closed her eyes for amoment, then opened them and looked at me. And in her eyes I saw herheart was breaking as she stood there. 

"Lana! Lanette! Little comrade! What is this dreadful thing thatcrushes you? Could you not tell me?" I whispered. 

"Ask him, Euan. "

"Lana, why will you not marry him, if you love him so?"

She shuddered and closed her eyes. 

Neither of us spoke again. Lois, watching us, came slowly toward us, and linked her arm in Lana's. 

"Our batteau is waiting, " she said quietly. 

I continued to preserve my spirits as we walked together down to theshore where Mrs. Sabin stood glaring at me, then turned her broad backand waddled across the planks. 

Lana followed; Lois clung a second to my hands, smiling still; then Ireleased her and she sprang lightly aboard. 

And now batteau after batteau swung out into the stream, and all inline dropped slowly down the river, pole and paddle flashing, kerchiefsfluttering. 

For a long way I could see the boat that carried Lois gliding in thechannel close along shore, and the escort following along the bankabove, with the sunshine glancing on their slanting rifles. Then a bendin the river hid them; and I turned away and walked slowly toward thefort. 

By the gate my Indians were waiting. The Sagamore had my pack and riflefor me. On the rifle-platform above, the soldiers of the garrison stoodlooking down at us. 

And now I heard the short, ringing word of command, and out of the gatemarched our twenty riflemen, Boyd striding lightly ahead. 

Then, as he set foot on the log bridge, I saw Dolly Glenn standingthere, confronting him, blocking his way, her arms extended and hereyes fixed on him. 

"Are you mad?" he said curtly. 

"If you go, " she retorted unsteadily, "leaving me behind youhere--unwedded--God will punish you. "

The column had came to a halt. There was a dead silence on parapet andparade while three hundred pair of eyes watched those two there on thebridge of logs. 

"Dolly, you are mad!" he said, with the angry colour flashing in hisface and staining throat and brow. 

"Will you do me justice before you go?"

"Will you stand aside?" he said between his teeth. 

"Yes--I will stand aside. .. . And may you remember me when you burn atthe last reckoning with God!"

"'Tention! Trail arms! By the left flank--march!" he cried, his voicetrembling with rage. 

The shuffling velvet tread of his riflemen fell on the bridge; and theypassed, rifles at a trail, and fringes blowing in the freshening breeze. 

Without a word I fell in behind. After me loped my Indians in perfectsilence. 

CHAPTER XVII

THE BATTLE OF CHEMUNG

Toward sundown we hailed our bullock guard below the ruins of OldChemung, and passed forward through the army to the throat of the pass, where the Rifles lay. 

The artillery was already in a sorry mess, nine guns stalled and anammunition wagon overturned in the ford. And I heard the infantrycursing the drivers and saying that we had lost thousands ofcartridges. Stewart's bullock-guard was in a plight, too, forty headhaving strayed. 

At the outlet to the pass Major Parr met us, cautioning silence. Nofires burned and the woods were very still, so that we could hear infront of us the distant movement of men; and supposed that the enemyhad come down to Chemung in force. But Major Parr told us that ourscouts could make nothing of these incessant noises, reporting only aboatload of Sir John Johnson's green-coated soldiers on the river, anda few Indians in two canoes; and that he had no knowledge whether SirJohn, the two Butlers, McDonald, and Brant lay truly in front of us, orwhether these people were only a mixed scalping party of blue-eyedIndians, Senecas, and other ragamuffin marauders bent on a more distantforay, and now merely lingering along our front over night to spy outwhat we might be about. 

Also, he informed us that a little way ahead, on the Great Warriortrail, lay an Indian town which our scouts reported to be abandoned;and said that he had desired to post our pickets there, but that ordersfrom General Hand had prevented that precaution until the Generalcommanding arrived at the front. 

Some few minutes after our appearance in camp, and while we were eatingsupper, there came a ruddy glimmer of torches from behind us, lightingup the leaves overhead; and Generals Sullivan, Clinton, Hand, and Poorrode up and drew bridle beside Major Parr, listening intently to theominous sounds in front of us. 

And, "What the devil do you make of it, Major?" says Sullivan, in a lowvoice. "It sounds like a log-rolling in March. "

"My scouts give me no explanation, " says Parr grimly. "I think therascals are terrified. "

"Send Boyd and that young interpreter, " said Sullivan curtly. 

So, as nobody could understand exactly what these noises indicated, andas headquarters' scouts could obtain no information, Lieutenant Boydand I, with my Indians, left our supper of fresh roast corn and beansand went forward at once. We moved out of the defile with everyprecaution, passing the throat of the rocky pass and wading the littletrout-brook over which our trail led, the Chemung River now lyingalmost south of us. Low mountains rose to the north and west, very darkand clear against the stars; and directly ahead of us we saw the smallIndian town surrounded by corn fields; and found it utterly deserted, save for bats and owls; and not even an Indian dog a-prowling there. 

A little way beyond it we crossed another brook close to where itentered the river, opposite an island. Here the Chemung makes a greatbend, flowing in more than half a circle; and there are little hills tothe north, around which we crept, hearing always the stirring andmovements of men ahead of us, and utterly unable to comprehend whatthey were so busily about. 

Just beyond the island another and larger creek enters the river; andhere, no longer daring to follow the Seneca trail, we turned southwest, slinking across the river flats, through the high Indian grass, untilwe came to a hardwood ridge, from whence some of these sounds proceeded. 

We heard voices very plainly, the splintering of saplings, and aheavier, thumping sound, which the Mohican whispered to us was likehewn logs being dragged over the ground and then piled up. A fewmoments later, Tahoontowhee, who had crept on ahead, glided up to usand whispered that there was a high breastwork of logs on the ridge, and that many men were cutting bushes, sharpening the stems, andplanting them to screen this breastwork so that it could not be seenfrom the Seneca trail north of us, along which lay our army's line ofmarch. A pretty ambuscade, in truth! But Braddock's breed had passed. 

Silently, stealthily, scarcely breathing, we got out of that dangerousplace, recrossed the grassy flats, and took to the river willows theentire way back. At the mouth of the pass, where my battalion layasleep, we found Major Parr anxiously awaiting us. He sent CaptainSimpson back with the information. 

Before I could unlace my shirt, drag my pack under my head, and composemyself to sleep, Boyd, who had stretched himself out beside me, touchedmy arm. 

"Are you minded to sleep, Loskiel?"

"I own that I am somewhat inclined that way, " said I. 

"As you please. "

"Why? Are you unwell?"

He lay silent for a few moments, then:

"What a mortifying business was that at the Tioga fort, " he said underhis breath. "The entire garrison saw it, did they not, Loskiel? ColonelShreve and all?"

"Yes, I fear so, "

"It will be common gossip tomorrow, " he said bitterly. "What amiserable affair to happen to an officer of Morgan's!"

"A sad affair, " I said. 

"It will come to her ears, no doubt. Shreve's batt-men will carry itdown the river. "

I was silent. 

"Rumour runs the woods like lightning, " he said. "She will surely hearof this disgraceful scene. She will hear of it at Easton. .. . Strange, "he muttered, "strange how the old truths hold!. .. Our sins shall findus out. .. . I never before believed that, Loskiel--not in a wilderness, anyway. .. . I had rather be here dead and scalped than have had thathappen and know that she must hear of it one day. "

He lay motionless for a while, then turned heavily on his side, facingme across the heap of dead leaves. 

"Somehow or other, " he said, "she heard of that miserablebusiness--heard of it even at Otsego. .. . That is why she would notmarry me, Loskiel. Did you ever hear the like! That a man must be soutterly and hopelessly damned for a moment's careless folly--loseeverything in the world for a thoughtless moonlight frolic! Where liesthe justice in such a judgment?"

"It is not the world that judges you severely. The world cares littlewhat a man's way may be with a maid. "

"But--Lana cares. It has ended everything for her. "

I said in a low voice:

"You ended everything for Dolly Glenn. "

"How was I to know she was no light o' love--this camp tailoress--thissilly little wench who--but let it go! Had she but whimpered, andseemed abashed and unfamiliar with a kiss---- Well, let it go. .. . But Icould cut my tongue out that I ever spoke to her. God! How lightlysteps a man into a trap of his own contriving!. .. And here I lietonight, caring not whether I live or die in tomorrow's battle alreadydawning on the Chemung. And yonder, south of us, in the blackstarlight, drift the batteaux, dropping down to Easton under the verysky that shines above us here. .. . If Lana be asleep at this moment I donot know. .. . She tells me I have broke her heart--but yet will havenone of me. .. . Tells me my duty lies elsewhere; that I shall makeamends. How can a man make amends when his heart lies not in thedeed?. .. Am I then to be fettered to a passing whim for all eternity?Does an instant's idle folly entail endless responsibility? Do I meritpunishment everlasting for a silly amourette that lasted no longer thanthe July moon? Tell me, Loskiel, you who are called among us blamelessand unstained, is there no hope for a guilty man to shrive himself andwalk henceforward upright?"

"I can not answer you, " I said dully. "Nor do I know how, of such abusiness, a man may be shriven, or what should be his amends. .. . It allseems pitiful and sad to me--a matter perplexing, unhappy, and farbeyond my solving. .. . I know it is the fashion of the times to regardsuch affairs lightly, making of them nothing. .. . Much I have heard, little learned, save that the old lessons seem to be the truest; theold laws the best. And that our cynical and modern disregard of themmake one's salvation none the surer, one's happiness none the safer. "

I heard Boyd sigh heavily, where he lay; but he said nothing more thatI heard; for I slept soon afterward, and was awakened only at dawn. 

Everywhere in the rocky pass the yawning riflemen were falling in andcalling off; a detail of surly Jersey men, carrying ropes, passed us, cursing the artillery which, it appeared, was in a sorry plight again, the nine guns all stalled behind us, and an entire New Jersey brigadedetailed to pull them out o' the mud and over the rocks of thenarrowing defile. 

Boyd shared my breakfast, seeming to have recovered something of hisold-time spirits. And if the camp that night had gossiped concerningwhat took place at Tioga Fort, it seemed to make no difference to hisfriends, who one and all greeted him with the same fellowship andaffection that he had ever inspired among fighting men. No man, Ithink, was more beloved and admired in this Western army, by officersand men alike; for in him were naturally combined all those brilliantqualities of daring, fearlessness, and gaiety in the face of peril, which endear, and which men strive to emulate. In no enterprise had heever failed to perform the part allotted him; never had he faltered inthe hundred battles fought by Morgan's veteran corps; never had heseemed dismayed. And if sometimes he did a little more than he wasasked to do, his superior officers forgave this handsome, impetuousyoung man--the more readily, perhaps, because, so far, no disaster hadbefallen when he exceeded the orders given him. 

My Indians had eaten, and were touching up their paint when Major Parrcame up, wearing a magnificent new suit of fringed buckskins, andordered us to guide the rifle battalion. A moment later our conch-hornboomed out its thrilling and melodious warning. Far in the rear I heardthe drums and bugle-horns of the light infantry sounding the general. 

As we went forward in the early daylight, the nature of the ambuscadeprepared for us became very plain to me; and I pointed out to MajorParr where the unseen enemy rested, his right flank protected by theriver, his left extending north along the hog-bank, so that his linesenveloped the trail on which we marched, threatening our entire army ina most cunning and evil manner. Truly there was no fox like Butler inthe Northland!

All was very still about us as we marched; the river mist hung alongthe woods; a few birds sang; the tops of the Indian corn rustled. 

Toward eight o'clock the conch-horn blew; our riflemen halted anddeployed in perfect silence, facing the unseen works on the woodedridge ahead. Another division of troops swung to the left, continuingthe movement to the river in splendid order, where they also halted andformed a line of battle, facing north. And still the unseen enemy gaveno sign; birds sang; the mist drifted up through the trees. 

From where we lay we could see our artillery horses straining, plunging, stumbling up a high knoll in the centre of our line, whileMaxwell's division halted and extended behind our riflemen to supportthe artillery, and Clinton's four splendid New York regiments hurriedforward on a double, regiment after regiment dropping their packsbehind our lines and running north through the open woods, theirofficers all finely mounted and cantering ahead, swords drawn. 

A few moments later, General Sullivan passed along our front onhorseback, and drew bridle for a moment where Boyd and I were standingat salute. 

"Now is your opportunity, young gentlemen, " he said in a low voice. "Ifyou would gain Catharines-town and destroy Amochol before we drive thismotley Tory army headlong through it, you should start immediately. Andhave a care; Butler's entire army and Brant's Mohawks are nowintrenched in front of us; and it is a pitched battle we're facing--Godbe thanked!"

He spurred forward with a friendly gesture toward us, as we saluted;and his staff officers followed him at a canter while our riflementurned their heads curiously to watch the brilliant cavalcade. 

"Where the devil are their log works?" demanded Major Parr, using hisfield glasses. "I can see naught but green on that ridge ahead. "

Boyd painted at the crest; but our Major could see nothing; and Icalled to Timothy Murphy and Dave Elerson to climb trees and spy out ifthe works were still occupied. 

Murphy came down presently from the dizzy top of a huge black-walnuttree, reporting that he had been able to see into the river angle oftheir works; had for a while distinguished nothing, but presentlydiscovered Indians, crouched motionless, the brilliancy of their paint, which at first he had mistaken for patches of autumn leaves, betrayingthem when they moved. 

"Now, God be praised!" said Major Parr grimly. "For we shall this dayfurnish these Western-Gate Keepers with material for a Condolence Feastsuch as no Seneca ever dreamed of. And if you gentlemen can surpriseand destroy Amochol, it will be a most blessed day for our unhappycountry. "

General Hand, in his patched and faded uniform of blue and buff, drewhis long, heavy sword and walked his horse over to Major Parr. 

"Well, sir, " he said, "we must amuse them, I suppose, until the NewYorkers gain their left. Push your men forward and draw their fire, Major. "

There came a low order; the soft shuffle of many mocassined feet;silence. Presently, ahead of us, a single rifle-shot shattered thestillness. 

Instantly a mighty roar of Tory musketry filled the forest; and theirIndians, realizing that the ambuscade had been discovered, came leapingdown the wooded ridge, yelling and firing all along our front; and ourrifles began to speak quicker and quicker from every rock and tuft andfallen log. 

"Are we to miss this?" said Boyd, restlessly. "Listen to that firing!The devil take this fellow Amochol and his Eries! I wish we were yonderwith our own people. I wish at least that I could see what our NewYorkers are about!"

Behind us, Boyd's twenty riflemen stood craning their sunburnt necks;and my Indians, terribly excited, fairly quivered where they crouchedbeside us. But all we could see was the rifle smoke sifting through thetrees, and early sunshine slanting on the misty river. 

The fierce yelling of the unseen Mohawks and Senecas on the woodedridge above us had become one continuous and hideous scream, shrill andpiercing above the racket of musketry and rifle fire; sometimes thedreadful volume of sound surged nearer as though they were charging, orshowing themselves in order to draw us into a frontal attack on theirpits and log breastworks; but always after a little while the yelpingtumult receded, and our rifle fire slackened while the musketry fromthe breastworks grew more furious, crashing out volley on volley, whilethe entire ridge steamed like a volcano in action. Further to the northwe heard more musketry break out, as our New York regiments passedrapidly toward Butler's left flank. And by the running fire we couldfollow their hurried progress. 

"Hell!" said Boyd, furiously, flinging his rifle to his shoulder. "Comeon, Loskiel, or we'll miss this accursed Amochol also. " And he gave thesignal to march. 

As we skirted the high knoll where our artillery was planted, the firsthowitzer shot shook the forest, and my Indians cringed as they ranbeside me. High towering rose the shell, screaming like a living thing, and plunged with a shriek into the woods on the ridge, exploding therewith a most infernal bang. 

Up through the trees gushed a very fountain of smoke, through which wecould dimly see dark objects falling; but whether these were the limbsof trees or of men we could not tell. 

Crash! A howitzer hurled its five and a half inch shell high into thesunshine. Boom! Another shot from a three-pounder. Bang! The littlecohorn added its miniature bellow to the bigger guns, which now beganto thunder regularly, one after another, shaking the ground we trod. The ridge was ruddy with the red lightning of exploding shells. Veryfar away in the forest we could hear entire regiments, as they climbedthe slopes, cheering above the continuous racket of musketry; theyelling of the Senecas and Mohawks grew wavering, becoming ragged andthinner. 

It was hard for us all, I think, to turn our backs on the first realbattle we had seen in months--hard for Boyd, for me, and for our twentyriflemen; harder, perhaps, for our Indians, who could hear the yells oftheir most deadly enemies, and who knew that they were within strikingdistance at last. 

As we marched in single file, I leading with my Indians, I said aloud, in the Iroquois tongue:

"If in this Battle of the Chemung the Mountain Snake be left writhing, yet unless we crush his head at Catharines-town, the serpent will liveto strike again. For though a hundred arrows stick in the WesternSerpent's body, his poison lies in his fangs; his fangs are rooted inhis head; and the head still hisses at God and man from the shaggydepths of Catharines-town. It is for us of the elect to slay himthere--for us few and chosen ones honoured by this mandate from ourcommander. Why, then, should the thunder of Proctor's guns arouse in usenvy for those who join in battle? Let the iron guns do their part; letthe men of New York, of Jersey, of Virginia, of New Hampshire, ofPennsylvania, do the great part allotted them. Let us in our heartspray God to speed them. For if we do our part as worthily, only thenshall their labour be not in vain. Their true title to glory is in ourkeeping, locked inevitably with our own. If we fail, they have failed. Judge, therefore, O Sagamore, judge, you Yellow Moth, and youOneidas--Grey-Feather, with your war-chief's feather and your Sachem'sensign, Tahoontowhee, chieftain to be--judge, all of you, where thereal glory lies--whether behind us in the rifle smoke or before us inthe red glare of Amochol's accursed altar!"

They had been listening to every word as I walked beside them. TheMohican made answer first:

"It was hard for us to leave the Chemung, O Loskiel, my brother--withthe dog-yelps at the Sinako and Mowawaks insulting our ears. But it waswiser. I, a Sagamore, say it!"

"It is God's will, " said the Yellow Moth. But his eyes were still redwith his fierce excitement; and the distant cannonade steadilycontinued as we marched. 

"I am Roya-neh!" said the Grey-Feather. "What wisdom counsels Iunderstand, He who would wear the scaly girdle must first know wherethe fangs lie buried. .. . But to hear the Antouhonoran scalp-yelp, andto turn one's back, is very hard, O my friend, Loskiel. "

The Night-Hawk controlled his youthful features, forcing a merry smileas my eye fell on him. 

"Koue!" he exclaimed softly. "I have made promise to my thirstyhatchet, O Loskiel! Else it might have leaped from its sheath andbitten some one. "

"A good hatchet and a good dog bite only under orders, " I said. "Myyounger brother's hatchet has acquired glory; now it is acquiringwisdom. "

Boyd came up along the line, his deerskin shirt open to the breastbone, the green fringe blowing in the hill wind. 

Far below us in the river valley sounded the uproar of the battle--adull, confused, and distant thunder--for now we could no longer hearthe musketry and rifle fire, only the boom-booming of the guns and theendless roar of echoes. 

Here on a high hill's spur, with a brisk wind blowing in our faces, theheavy rumble of forest warfare became deadened; and we looked out overthe naked ridge of rock, across the forests of this broken country, into a sea of green which stretched from horizon to horizon, accentedonly by the silver glimmer of lakes and the low mountain peaks east, west, and south of us. 

Below us lay a creek, its glittering thread visible here and there. TheGreat Warrior trail crossed it somewhere in that ravine. 

I drew the Mohican aside. 

"Sagamore, " said I, "now is your time come. Now we depend on you. If itlay with us, not one white man here, not one Indian, could take usstraight to Catharines-town; for the Great Warrior trail runs notthither. Are you, then, confident that you know the way?"

"I know the way, Loskiel. "

"Is there then a trail that leads from the Great Warrior trail below?"

"There are many. "

"And you know the right one?"

"I have spoken, brother. "

"I am satisfied. But we must clearly mark the trail for our surveyorsand for the army. "

"We will mark it, " he said meaningly, "so that no Seneca dog can evermistake which way we passed. "

I did not exactly understand him, but I nodded to Boyd and he gave thesignal, and we began the descent through the warm twilight of an openforest that sloped to the creek a thousand feet below us. 

Down and down we went, partly sliding, and plowing up the moss andleaves knee-deep, careless how we left our trail, as there was none tofollow, save the debris of a flying army or the flanking scouts of avictorious one. 

Below us the foaming rifles of the creek showed white in the woodlandgloom, and presently we heard its windy voice amid rocks and fallentrees, soughing all alone through leafy solitudes; and its cool, dampbreath mounted to us as we descended. 

The Indians dropped prone to slake their thirst; the riflemen squattedand used their cups of bark or leather, pouring the sweet, icy waterover their cropped heads and wrists. 

"Off packs!" said Boyd quietly, and drew a bit of bread and meat fromhis beaded wallet. And so the Mohican and I left them all eating by thestream, and crossed to the western bank. Here the Sagamore pointed tothe opposite slope; I gave a low whistle, and Boyd looked across thewater at me. 

Then I drew my hatchet and notched a tree so that he saw what I did; henodded comprehension; we went on, notching trees at intervals, and soascended the slope ahead until we arrived at the top. 

Here the forest lay flat beyond, and the Great Warrior trail ranthrough it--a narrow path fifteen inches wide, perhaps, and worn nearlya foot deep, and patted as hard as rock by the light feet ofgenerations--men and wild beasts--which had traversed it for centuries. 

North and south the deeply graven war trail ran straight through thewilderness. The Mohican bent low above it, scrutinizing it in thesubdued light, then stepped lightly into it, and I behind him. 

For a little way we followed it, seeing other and narrower trailsbranching from it right and left, running I knew not whither--thenarrow, delicate lanes made by game--deer and bear, fox and hare--allspreading out into the dusk of the unknown forest. 

Presently we came to a trail which seemed wet, as though swampy landwere not far away; and into this the Mohican turned, slashing a greatscar on the nearest tree as he entered it. 

There was a mossy stream ahead, and the banks of it were dark and soft. Here we rested high and dry on the huge roots of an oak, and ate ourmidday meal. 

In a little while the remainder of our party came gliding through thetrees, Boyd ahead. 

"Is this the Catharines-town trail?" he asked. "By God, they'll neverget their artillery through here. Mark it, all the same, " he addedindifferently, and seated himself beside me, dropping his rifle acrosshis knees with a gesture of weariness. 

"Are you tired?" I asked. 

He looked up at me with a wan smile. 

"Weary of myself, Loskiel, and of a life lived too lightly and now nighended. "

"Nigh ended!" I repeated. 

"I go not back again, " he said, sombrely. 

I glanced sharply at him, where he sat brooding over his rifle; andthere was in his face an expression such as I had never before seenthere--something unnatural that altered him altogether, as death altersthe features, leaving them strangely unfamiliar. And even as I looked, the expression passed. He lifted his eyes to mine, and even smiled. 

"There is, " he said, "a viewless farm which companions even theswiftest on the last long trail, a phantom-pilot which leads onlytoward that Shadowed Valley of endless rest. In my ears all day--close, close to my ear, I have heard the whisper of this unseenghost--everywhere I have heard it, amid the din of the artillery, onwindy hill-tops, in the long silence of the forest, through the noiseof torrents in lost ravines, by flowing rivers sparkling in thesun--everywhere my pilot whispers to me. I can not escape, Loskiel;whatever trail I take, that is the trail; whichever way I turn, that isthe way. And ever my phantom pilots me--forward or back, aside oraround--it is all one to him and to me, for at the end of every trail Itake, nearer and nearer draw I to mine end. "

I had heard of premonitions before a battle; had known officers andsoldiers to utter them--brave men, too, yet obsessed by the convictionof their approaching death. Sometimes they die; sometimes escape, andthe premonition ends forever. But until the moment of peril is passed, or they fall as they had foretold, no argument will move them, noassurance cheer them. But our corps had been in many battles during thelast three years, and I had never before seen Boyd this way. 

He said, brooding on his rifle:

"The one true passion of my life has been Lana Helmer. It beganignobly; it continues through all this pain and bewilderment, a pure, clean current, running to the deep, still sea of dreams. .. . There it islost; I follow it no further. .. . And were I here today as upright andas stainless as are you, Loskiel, still I could follow it no furtherthan that sea of dreams. Nor would my viewless pilot lead me elsewherethan to the destiny of silence that awaits me; and none the less wouldI hear his whisper in my ears. .. . My race is run. "

I said: "Is it vain to appeal to your reason when your heart is heavy?"

"Had I another chance, " he said, "I would lighten the load of sin Ibear--the heavy load I bear with me into the unknown. "

"God gives us all our chance. "

"He gave me my last chance at Tioga Fort. And I cursed it in my heartand put it aside. "

"One day you will return, "

"Never again, Loskiel. .. . I am no coward. I dare face the wrath tocome. It is not that; but--I am sorry I did not spare when I might havebeen more generous. .. . The little thing was ignorant. .. . Doves matelike that. .. . And somewhere--somehow--I shall be required to answer forit all--shall be condemned to make amends. .. . I wonder how the deadmake their amends?. .. For me to burn in hell avails her nothing. .. . Ifshe thought it she would weep uncomforted. .. . No; there is a justice. But how it operates I shall never understand until it summons me tohear my sentence. "

"You will return and do what a contrite heart bids you to do, " I said. 

"If that might be, " he said gently, "that would I do--for the child'ssake and for hers. "

"Good God!" I said under my breath. 

"Did you not surmise it?"

"No. "

"Well, then, now you know how deeply I am damned. .. . God gave me a lastchance. There was a chaplain at the fort. "

"Kirkland. "

"Yes, Gann went forward. .. . But--God's grace was not within me. .. . Andto see her angered me--that and the blinding hurt I had when Lanaleft--heart-broken, wretched, still loving me, but consigning me to myduty. .. . So I denied her at the bridge. .. . And from that moment has myunseen pilot walked beside me, and I know he leads me swiftly to myend. "

I raised my troubled eyes and glanced toward my Indians. They hadstripped great squares of bark from half a dozen trees, and were busilypainting upon them, in red and blue, insulting signs and symbols--adead tree-cat, scalped, and full of arrows; a snake severed intosections; a Seneca tied to a post and a broken wampum belt at his feet. And on every tree they had also painted the symbol of their own clansand nation--pointed stones and the stars of the Pleiades; a witch-wolfand an enchanted bear; a yellow moth alighted on a white cross; anight-hawk, perfectly recognizable, soaring high above a sun, setting, bisecting the line of the horizon. 

Every scalp taken was duly enumerated and painted there, together withevery captured weapon. Such a gallery of art in the wilderness I hadnever before beheld. 

Boyd's riflemen sat around, cross-legged on the moss, watching theIndians at their labour--all except Murphy and Elerson, who, true totheir habits, had each selected a tree to decorate, and were hard atwork with their hunting knives on the bark. 

On Murphy's tree I read: "To hell with Walter Butler. "

Elerson, who no doubt had scraped the outlines of this legend with hisknife-point before Murphy carved it, had produced another message onhis own tree, not a whit more complimentary: "Dam Butler, Brant, Hiakotoo, and McDonald for bloody rogues and murtherin' rascals all!"

They were ever like this, these two great overgrown boys, alreadycelebrated so terribly in song and legend. And the rank and file ofMorgan's resembled them--brave to a fault, innately lawless, of scanteducation save what the forest had taught them, headstrong, quick toanger, quick to forgive, violent in every emotion through the entiregamut from love to hatred. 

Boyd rose, glanced quietly at me, then made his signal. And in a fewmoments the riflemen were on the trail again, spotting it wherever anew path led away, trotting steadily forward in single file, my Indiansranging wide on either flank. 

Late in the afternoon we came to the height of land, where the littlewater-courses all ran north; and here we halted, dropped packs, and themen sat down while the Sagamore and I once more went forward to theheadwaters of a stream, beside which the narrow and swampy trail randue north. And here the nature of the country changed entirely, forbeyond it was all one vast swamp, as still and dark as death. 

A little way along this blackish stream Mayaro halted, and for a whilestood motionless, his powerful arms folded, gazing straight in front ofhim with the half-closed eyes of a dreaming wolf. 

Never had I looked upon so sinister a country or a swamp so vast anddesolate. It seemed more black than dusky, and the gloom lay not in theobscure light of thick-set spruce, pine, and hemlock, but in theshaggy, monstrous, and forbidding growth which appeared to be soiledwith some common dye, water, earth, tree-trunks, foliage--all wore thesame inky livery, and seemed wrought of rusty iron, so still the hugetrees stood, with every melancholy branch a-droop. 

Sign of life there was none; the current of the narrow stream ran likesmooth oil; nor was its motion visible where it wound between soft, black banks of depthless swamp through immemorial shadows. 

The Mohican's voice came to me, low in the silence, sounding dull andremote; nor did his dreaming eyes move in their vague intensity. 

"This is the land of Amochol, " he said. "Here, through these viewlessshades, his sway begins, as this stream begins, whose source isdarkness and whose current moves slowly like thick blood. Here is thehaunt of witch and sorcerer--of the hag Catrine, of the Wyoming Fiend, of Amochol--of Amochol! Here run the Andastes, hunting through the dusklike wolves and foxes--running, smelling, listening, ever hunting. Hereslink the Cat-People under a moon which is hidden forever by thismatted forest roof. This is the Dark Empire, O Loskiel! Behold!"

A slight shudder chilled me, but I said calmly enough:

"Where lies Catharines-town, O Sagamore?"

"This thick, dark stream runs through it. "

"Through Catharines-town?"

"Aye. "

"And then?"

"Along the vast chain of inland seas--first into the Lake of theSenecas, then to that of the Cayugas, fed by Owasco, by Onondaga, byOneida, until it is called Oswego, and flows north by the great fortinto the sea Ontario. "

"And where lies Catharines-town?"

"Nine miles beyond us, northward. "

"And the trail?"

"None, Loskiel, save for the maze of game trails where long leaps aremade from tussock to swale, from root to rotting log across black poolsof mud, and quivering quicksands whose depths are white as snow underthe skin of mud, set with tarnished rainbow bubbles. "

"But--those who come after us, Mayaro! The army--the wagons, horses, artillery, cattle--nay, the men themselves! How are they to pass?"

He pointed east, then west: "For six miles, flanking this swamp, runridges of high hills northward. By these must the army march toCatharines-town, the pioneers opening a road for the artillery. Thisyou shall make plain to Boyd presently, for he must march that way, marking plain the trail north on the eastern ridge of hills, then west. Thus shall Boyd move to cut off Amochol from the lake, while you and Iand the Oneidas and the Yellow Moth must thread this swamp and comb itclean to head him from the rivers south of us. "

"Is there a path along the ridge?"

"No path, Loskiel. So Boyd shall march by compass, slowly, seeking overthe level way, and open woods, with the artillery and wagons ever inhis thoughts. Six miles due north shall he march; then, where the hillsend a swamp begins--thick, miry, set with maple, brier, and tamarack. But through this he must blaze his trail, and the pioneers who are tofollow shall lay their wagon-path across felled trees, northward still, across the forests that border the flats of Catharines-town; and then, still northward for a mile; and so swing west, severing the lake trail. Thus we shall trap Amochol between us. "

Slowly we walked back together to the height of land, where our littleparty lay looking down at the dark country below. I sat down besideBoyd, cleared from the soil the leaves for a little space, drew myknife, and with its point traced out the map. 

He listened in silence, while I went over all that the Sagamore hadtaught me; and around us squatted our Indians, motionless, fiercelyintent upon my every word and gesture. 

"Today is Sunday, " I said. "By this hour, Butler's people should be inheadlong flight. Our army will not follow them at once, because it willtake all day tomorrow for our men to destroy the corn along theChemung. But on Tuesday our army will surely march, laying waste theIndian towns and fields. Therefore, giving them ample time for this, they should arrive at this spot on Wednesday. "

"I have so calculated, " said Boyd, listlessly. 

"But Wednesday is the first day of September; and if we are to strikeAmochol at all it must be done during the Onon-hou-aroria. And thatends on Tuesday. Therefore, must you move within the hour. And bytomorrow evening you shall have blazed your hill-trail and shall belying with your men beside the stream and across the lake trail, northof Catharines-town. "

He nodded. 

"Tonight, " said I, "I and my Indians lie here on this height of land, watching the swamp below, that nothing creep out of it. On Mondaymorning, we move through it, straight northward, following the stream, and by Monday night we scout to Catharines-town. "

"That is clear, " he said, lifting his handsome head from his hands. "And the signal should come from me. Listen, Loskiel; you shall expectthat signal between midnight of Monday and dawn. "

He rose, and I stood up; and for a moment we looked each other steadilyin the eye. Then he smiled faintly, shaking his head:

"Not this time, Loskiel, " he said in a low voice. "My spectral pilotgives no sign. Death lies beyond the fires of Catharines-town. I know, Loskiel--I know. "

"I also, " said I in a low voice, taking his outstretched hand, "for youshall live to make material amends as you have made them spiritually. Only the act of deep contrition lies between you and God's swiftpardon. It were a sin to doubt it. "

But he slowly shook his head, the faint smile lingering still. Then hisgrip closed suddenly on my hand, released it, and he swung on his heel. 

"Attention!" he said crisply. "Sling packs! Fall in! Tr-r-rail arms!March!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE RITE OF THE HIDDEN CHILDREN

My Indians and I stood watching our riflemen as they swung to the eastand trotted out of sight among the trees. Then, at a curt nod from me, the Indians lengthened their line, extending it westward along theheight of land, and so spreading out that they entirely commanded theonly outlet to the swamp below, by encircling both the trail and theheadwaters of the evil-looking little stream. 

Through the unbroken thatch of matted foliage overhead no faintest rayof sunlight filtered--not even where the stream coiled its slimy wayamong the tamaracks and spruces. But south of us, along the ascendingtrail by which we had come, the westering sun glowed red across a ledgeof rock, from which the hill fell sheer away, plunging into profoundgreen depths, where unseen waters flowed southward to the Susquehanna. 

Around the massive elbow of this ledge, our back-trail, ascending intoview, curved under shouldering boulders. Blueberry scrub, alreadyturning gold and crimson, grew sparsely on the crag--cover enough forany watcher of the trail. And thither I crept and stretched me out flatin the bushes, where I could see the trail we had lately traversed, andlook along it far to our rear as clearly as one sees through a dim andpillared corridor. 

West of me, a purplish ridge ran north, the sun shining low through apine-clad notch. Southwest of me, little blue peaks pricked theprimrose sky; south-east lay endless forests, their green alreadyveiled in an ashy blue bloom. Far down, under me, wound the narrowback-trail through the gulf below. 

Presently, beside me came creeping the lithe Mohican, and lay downprone, smooth and golden, and shining like a sleek panther in the sun. 

"Is all well guarded, brother?" I whispered. 

"Not even a wood-mouse could creep from the swamp unless our warriorssee it. "

"And when dark comes?"

"Our ears must be our eyes, Loskiel. .. . But neither the Cat-People northe Andastes will venture out of that morass, save only by the trail. And we shall have two watchers on it through the night. "

"There is no other outlet?"

"None, except by the ridge Boyd travels. He blocks that pass with histwenty men. "

"Then we should have their egress blocked, except only in the north?"

"Yes--unless they learn of this by magic, " muttered the Mohican. 

It was utterly useless for me to decry or ridicule his superstitions;and there was but one way to combat them. 

"If witchcraft there truly be in Catharines-town, " said I, "it is badmagic, and therefore weak; and can avail nothing against truepriesthood. What could the degraded acolytes of this Red Priest doagainst a consecrated Sagamore of the Lenape--against an ensign of theEnchanted Clan? Else why do you wear your crest--or the great GhostBear there rearing upon your breast?"

"It is true, " he murmured uneasily. "What spell can Amochol lay uponus? What magic can he make to escape us? For the trail fromCatharines-town is stopped by a Siwanois Sagamore and a Mohicanwarrior! It is closed by an Oneida Sachem who stand watching. When theGhost Bear and the Were-Wolf watch, then the whole forest watches withthem--Loup, Blue Wolf, and Bear. Where, then, can the Forest Cats slinkout? Where can the filthy Carcajou escape?"

"Mayaro has spoken. It is a holy barrier that locks and bolts this doorof secret evils. Under Tharon shall this trap remain inviolate till thelast sorcerer be taken in it, the last demon be dead!"

* "Yo-ya-ne-re!" he said, deliberately employing the Caniengaexpression with a fierce scorn that, for a moment, made his noblefeatures terrible. Then he spat as though to wash from his mouth thetaste of the hated language that had soiled it, even when used incontempt and derision; and he said in the suave tongue of his ownpeople: "Pray to your white God, Holder of Heaven, Master of Life andDeath, that into our hands be delivered these scoffers who mock at Himand at Tharon--these Cat-murderers of little children, these pollutorsof the Three Fires. And in the morning I shall arise and look into therising sun, and ask the same of the far god who made of me a Mohican, aSiwanois, and a Sagamore. Let these things be done, brother, ere ourhatchets redden in the flames of Catharines-town. For, " he added, naively, "it is well that God should know what we are about, lest Hemisunderstand our purpose. "

[* "It is well!"]

I assented gravely. 

The sun hung level, now, sending its blinding light straight into oureyes; and for precaution's sake we edged away under the blue shadows ofthe shrubbery, in case some far prowler note the light spots where ourfaces showed against the wall of green behind us. 

"How far from Catharines-town, " I asked, "lies the Vale Yndaia, ofwhich our little Lois has spoken?"

"It is the next valley to the westward. A pass runs through and alittle brook. Pleasant it is, Loskiel, with grassy glades and half ahundred little springs which we call 'Eyes of the Inland Seas. '"

"You know, " I said, "that in this valley all the hopes of Lois deContrecoeur are centred. "

"I know, Loskiel, " he answered gravely. 

"Do you believe her mother lives there still?"

"How shall I know, brother? If it were with these depraved andperverted Senecas as it is with other nations, the mother of a HiddenChild had lived there unmolested. Her lodge would have remained hersanctuary; her person had been respected; her Hidden One undisturbeddown to this very hour. But see how the accursed Senecas have dealtwith her, so that to save her child from Amochol she sent it far beyondthe borders of the Long House itself! What shame upon the Iroquois thatthe Senecas have defiled their purest law! May Leshi seize them all! Sohow, then, shall I know whether this white captive mother lives in theVale Yndaia still--or if she lives at all? Or if they have not made ofher a priestess--a sorceress--perhaps The Dreaming Prophetess of theOnon-hou-aroria!--by reason of her throat being white!"

"What!" I exclaimed, startled. 

"Did not the Erie boast a Prophetess to confound us all?"

"I did not comprehend. "

"Did he not squat, squalling at us from his cave, deriding every secretplan we entertained, and boasting that the Senecas had now a prophetesswho could reveal to them everything their white enemies wereplotting--because her own throat was white?"

I looked at him in silent horror. 

"Hai-ee!" he said grimly. "If she still lives at all it is because shedreams for Amochol. And this, Loskiel, has long remained my opinion. Else they had slain her on their altars long ago--strangled her as soonas ever she sent her child beyond their reach. For what she did brokesanctuary. According to the code of the Long House, the child belongedto the nation in which the mother was a captive. And by the mother'sact this child was dedicated to a stainless marriage with some otherchild who also had been hidden. But the Red Sorcerer has perverted thisancient law; and when he would have taken the child to sacrifice it, then did the mother break the law of sanctuary and send her child away, knowing, perhaps, that the punishment for this is death. 

"So you ask me whether or not she still lives. And I say to you that Ido not know; only I judge by the boasting of that vile Erie Cat thatshe has bought her life of them by dreaming for their Red Priest. Andif she has done this thing, and has deceived them until this day, thenit is very plain to me that they believe her to be a witch. For it istrue, Loskiel, that those who dream wield heavy influences among allIndians--and among the Iroquois in particular. Yet, with all this, Idoubt not that, if she truly be alive, her life hangs by a singlethread, ever menaced by the bloody knife of Amochol. "

"I can not understand, " said I, "why she sent out no appeal during herlong captivity. Before this war broke, had her messengers to Lois goneto Sir William Johnson, or to Guy Johnson, with word that the Senecasheld in their country a white woman captive, she had been releasedwithin a fortnight, I warrant you!"

"Loskiel, had that appeal gone out, and a belt been sent toCatharines-town from Johnstown or Guy Park, the Senecas would havekilled her instantly and endured the consequences--even though Amhersthimself was thundering on their Western Gate. "

"Are you sure, Mayaro?"

"Certain, Loskiel. She could not have lived a single moment after theSenecas learned that she had sent out word of her captivity. That istheir law, which even Amochol could not break. "

"It was a mercy that our little Lois appealed not to His Excellency, sothat the word ran through Canada by flag to Haldimand. "

"She might have done this, " said the Sagamore quietly. "She asked me atPoundridge how this might be accomplished. But when I made it clear toher that it meant her mother's death, she said no more about it. "

"But pushed on blindly by herself, " I exclaimed, "braving the sombreNorthland forests with her little ragged feet--half naked, hungry, friendless, and alone, facing each terror calmly, possessed only of hersingle purpose! O Sagamore of a warrior clan that makes a history ofbrave deeds done, can you read in the records of your most ancientwampum a braver history than this?"

He said: "Let what this maid has done be written in the archives of thewhite men, where are gathered the records of brave but unwise deeds. Soshall those who come after you know how to praise and where to pity ourlittle rosy pigeon of the forest. No rash young warrior of my ownpeople, bound to the stake itself can boast of greater bravery thanthis. And you, blood-brother to a Siwanois, shall witness what I say. "

After a silence I said: "They must have passed Wyoming already. At thishour our little Lois may be secure under the guns of Easton. Do you notthink so, Mayaro?"

As he made no answer, I glanced around at him and found him staringfixedly at the trail below us. 

"What do you see on our back-trail?" I whispered. 

"A man, Loskiel--if it be not a deer. "

A moment and I also saw something moving far below us among the trees. As yet it was only a mere spot in the dim light of the trail, slowlyascending the height of land. Nearer, nearer it came, until at lengthwe could see that it was a man. But no rifle slanted across hisshoulder. 

"He must be one of our own people, " I said, puzzled. "Somebody sends usa messenger. Is he white or Indian?"

"White, " said the Sagamore briefly, his eyes still riveted on theapproaching figure, which now I could see was clothed in deerskin shirtand leggins. 

"He carries neither pack nor rifle; only a knife and pouch. He is awood-running fool!" I said, disgusted. "Why do they send us such aforest-running battman, when they have Oneidas at headquarters, andCoureurs-de-Bois to spare who understand their business?"

"I make nothing of him, " murmured the Mohican, his eyes fairlyglittering with excitement and perplexity. 

"Is he, perhaps, some fugitive from Butler's rangers?" I whispered, utterly at a loss to account for such a silly spectacle. "The pitifulidiot! Did you ever gaze upon the like, Mayaro--unless he be someFrench mission priest. Otherwise, yonder walks the greatest of God'sfools!"

"Then he is easily taken, " muttered Mayaro. "Fix thy flint, Loskiel, and prime. Here is a business I do not understand. "

Once the man halted and looked up at our ledge of rock, where the lastsun rays still lingered, then lightly continued the ascent. And I, turning to the Mohican for some possible explanation of this amazingsight, ere we crept out to closer ambush, found Mayaro staring throughthe trees with a glassy and singular expression which changed swiftlyto astonishment, and then to utter blankness. 

"Etho!" he exclaimed, bluntly, springing to his feet behind the nearertrees, regardless whether or not the stranger saw him. "Go forward now, Loskiel. This is a fool's business--and badly begun. Now, let a whiteman's wisdom finish it. "

I, too, had risen in surprise, stepping backward also, in order thatthe trees might screen me. And at the same moment the stranger roundedthe jutting shoulder of our crag, and came suddenly face to face withme in midtrail. 

"Euan!"

So astounded was I that my rifle fell clattering from my nerveless handas she sprang forward and caught my shoulders with both her hands. AndI saw her grey eyes filling and her lips quivering with words she couldnot utter. 

"Lois!" I repeated, as though stupefied. "Lois!"

"Oh, Euan! Euan! I thought I would never, never come up with you!" shewhimpered. "I left the batteau where it touched at Towanda Creek, andhid in the woods and dressed me in the Oneida dress you gave me. Then, by the first batt-man who passed, I sent a message to Lana saying thatI was going back to--to join you. Are you displeased?"

Her trembling hands clasped my shoulders tighter, and her face drewcloser, so that her sweet, excited breath fell on my cheek. 

"Listen!" she stammered. "I desire to tell you everything! I will tellyou all, Euan! I ran back along the trail, meeting the boat-guard, batt-men, and the sick horses all along the way to Tioga, where theytook me over on a raft of logs. .. . I paid them three hard shillings. Then Colonel Shreve heard of what I had been about, and sent a soldierafter me, but I avoided the fort, Euan, and went boldly up through thedeserted camps until I came to where the army had crossed. Someteamsters mending transport wagons gave me bread and meat enough tofill my pouch; and one of them, a kindly giant, took me over theChemung dry shod, I clinging to his broad back like a very cat--and allo' them a-laughing fit to burst!. .. Are you displeased, dear lad?. .. Then, just at night, I came up with the rear-guard, where they weresearching for strayed cattle; and I stowed myself away in a broken-downwagon, full of powder--quietly, like a mouse, no one dreaming that Iwas not the slender youth I looked. So none molested me where I layamid the powder casks and sacking. "

She smiled wistfully, and stood caressing my arms with her eager littlehands, as though to calm the wrath to come. 

"I heard your regiment's pretty conch-horn in the morning, " she said, "and slipped out of my wagon and edged forward amid all that swearing, sweating confusion, noticed not at all by anybody, save when a red-headJersey sergeant bawled at me to man a rope and haul at the mired cannonwith the others. But I was deaf just then, Euan, and got free o' themwith nothing worse than a sound cursing from the sergeant; and awayacross the creek I legged it, where I hid in the bush until the firingbegan and the horrid shouting on the ridge. Then it was that, badlyscared, I crept through the Indian grass like a hunted hare, and sawLieutenant Boyd there, and his men, halted across the trail. And verysoon our cannon began, and then it was that I saw you and your Indiansfiling out to the right. So I followed you. Oh, Euan, are you veryangry? Because, dear lad, I have had so lonely a trail, what withkeeping clear of your party so that you might not catch me and send meback, and what with losing you after you had left the main, troddentrail! Save for the marks you left on trees, I had been utterlylost--and must have perished, no doubt----" She looked at me withmelting eyes. 

"Think on that, Euan, ere you grow too angry and are cruel with me. "

"Cruel? Lois, you have been more heartless than I ever----"

"There! I knew it! Your anger is about to burst its dreadful bounds----"

"Child! What is there to say or do now? What is there left for me, saveto offer you what scant protection I may--good God!--and take youforward with us in the morning? This is a cruel, unmerited perplexityyou have caused me, Lois. What unkind inspiration prompted you to dothis rash, mad, foolish thing! How could you so conduct? What can youhope to accomplish in all this wicked and bloody business that nowconfronts us? How can I do my duty--how perform it to the letter--withyou beside me--with my very heart chilling to water at thought of yourperil----"

"Hush, dearest lad, " she whispered, tightening her fingers on mysleeve. "All in the world I care for lies in this place where we nowstand--or near it. Have I not told you that I must go toCatharines-town? How could I remain behind when every tie I have in allthe world was tugging at my heart to draw me hither? You ask me what Ican do--what I can hope to accomplish. God knows--but my mother and mylover are here--and how could I stay away if there was a humble chancethat I might do some little thing to aid her--to aid you, Euan?

"Why do you scowl at me? Try me, Test me. I am tough as an Indianyouth, strong and straight and supple--and as tireless. See--I am notwearied with the trail! I am not afraid. I can do what you do. If youfast I can fast, too; when you go thirsty I can endure it also; and youmay not even hope to out-travel me, Euan, for I am innured tosleeplessness, to hunger, to fatigue, by two years'vagabondage--hardened of limb and firm of body, self-taught inself-denial, in quiet endurance, in stealth, and patience. Oh, Euan!Make me your comrade, as you would take a younger brother, to schoolhim in the hardy ways of life you know so well! I will be no burden toyou; I will serve you humbly and faithfully; prove docile, obedient, and grateful to the end. And if the end comes in the guise ofdeath--Euan--Euan! Why may I not share that also with you? For theworld's joy dies when you die, and my body might as well die with it!"

So eager and earnest her argument, so tightly she clung to my arms, sopleading and sweet her ardent face, upturned, with the tears scarcelydry under her lashes, that I found nought to answer her, and could onlylook into her eyes--deep, deep into those grey-blue wells oftruth--troubled to silence by her present plight and mine. 

I could not take her back now, and also keep my tryst with Boyd atCatharines-town. I could not leave her here by this trail, evenguarded--had I the guards to spare--for soon in our wake would comethundering the maddened debris of the Chemung battle, pell-mell, headlong through the forests, desperate, with terror leading and furylashing at their heels. 

I laid my hands heavily upon her firm, young shoulders, and strove tothink the while I studied her; but the enchantment of her confused mymind, and I saw only the crisp and clustering curls, and clear, youngeyes looking into mine, and the lips scarce parted, hanging breathlesson my words. 

"O boy-girl comrade!" I said in a low, unsteady voice. "Little boy-girlborn to do endless mischief in this wide and wind-swept forest world ofmen! What am I to say to you, who have your will of everyone beneaththe sun? Who am I to halt the Starry Dancers, or bar your wayward trailwhen Tharon himself has hidden you, and the Little People carry to you'winged moccasins for flying feet as light and swift!' For truly Ibegin to think it has been long since woven in the silvery and eternalwampum--belt after belt, string twisted around string--that you shallgo to Catharines-town unscathed. 

"Where she was born returns the rosy Forest Pigeon to her native treefor mating. White-Throat--White-Throat--your course is flown! For thisis Amochol's frontier; and by tomorrow night we enterCatharines-town--thou and I, little Lois--two Hidden Children--onehidden by the Western Gate, one by the Eastern Gate's dark threshold, 'hidden in the husks. '. .. How shall it be with us now, O little rosyspirit of the home-wood? My Indians will ask. What shall I say to themconcerning you?"

"All laws break of themselves before us twain, who, having been hidden, are prepared for mating--where we will--and when. .. . And if the longflight be truly ended--and the home forests guard our secret--and ifTharon be God also--and His stars the altar lights--and his river-mistmy veil----" She faltered, and her clear gaze became confused. "Whyshould your Indians question you?" she asked. 

The last ray of the sun reddened the forest, lingered, faded, and wentout in ashes. I said:

"God and Tharon are one. Priest and Sagamore, clergyman and Sachem, minister, ensign, Roya-neh--red men or white, all are consecratedbefore the Master of Life. If in these Indians' eyes you are still toremain sacred, then must you promise yourself to me, little Lois. Andlet the Sagamore perform the rite at once. "

"Betroth myself, Euan?"

"Yes, under the Rite of the Hidden Children. Will you do this--so thatmy Indians can lay your hands upon their hearts? Else they may turnfrom you now--perhaps prove hostile. "

"I had desired to have you take me from my mother's arms. "

"And so I will, in marriage--if she be alive to give you. "

"Then--what is this we do?"

"It is our White Bridal. "

"Summon the Sagamore, " she said faintly. 

And so it was done there, I prompting her with her responses, and themysterious rite witnessed by the priesthood of two nations--Sachem andSagamore, Iroquois and Algonquin, with the tall lodge-poles of thepines confirming it, and the pale ghost-flowers on the moss fulfillingit, and the stars coming one by one to nail our lodge door with silvernails, and the night winds, enchanted, chanting the Karenna of theUncut Corn. 

And now the final and most sacred symbol of betrothal was at hand; andthe Oneida Sachem drew away, and the Yellow Moth and the Night Hawkstood aside, with heads quietly averted, leaving the Sagamore alonebefore us. For only a Sagamore of the Enchanted Clan might stand aswitness to the mystery, where now the awful, viewless form of Tharonwas supposed to stand, white winged and plumed, and robed like theEight Thunders in snowy white. 

"Listen, Loskiel, " he said, "my younger brother, blood-brother to aSiwanois. Listen, also, O Rosy-Throated Pigeon of the Woods--home fromthe unseen flight to mate at last!"

He plucked four ghost-flowers, and cast the pale blossoms one by one tothe four great winds. 

"O untainted winds that blow the Indian corn, " he said, "winds of thewilderness, winds of the sounding skies--clean and pure as ye are, notone of you has blown the green and silken blankets loose from these, our Hidden Children, nestling unseen, untouched, unstained, closecradled in a green embrace. Nor wind, nor rain, nor hail, not thefierce heat of many summers have revealed these Hidden Ones, strippedthem of the folded verdure that conceals them still, each wrappedwithin the green leaves of the corn. 

"Continue to listen, winds of the sounding skies. Let the EightWhite-plumed Thunders listen. An ensign of the Magic Clan bears witnessunder Tharon. A Sagamore veils his face. Let Tharon hear these childrenwhen they speak. Let Tamenund listen!"

Standing straight and tall there in the starlight, he drew his blanketacross his eyes. The Oneidas and the Stockbridge did the same. 

Slowly, timidly, in compliance with my whispered bidding, the slender, trembling hands of Lois unlaced my throat-points to the shoulder, baring my chest. Then she said aloud, but in a voice scarce audible, Iprompting every word:

"It is true! Under the folded leaves a Hidden Youth is sleeping. I bidhim sleep awhile. I promise to disturb no leaf. This is the WhiteBridal. I close what I have scarcely parted. I bid him sleep thisnight. When--when----"

I whispered, prompting her, and she found her voice, continuing:

"When at his lodge door they shall come softly and lay shadows to barit, a moon to seal it, and many stars to nail it fast, then, in thedark within, I shall hear the painted quiver rattle as he puts it off;and the antlers fall clashing to the ground. Only the green and tendercloak of innocence shall endure--a little while--then, falling, enfoldus twain embraced where only one had slept before. A promised bride hasspoken. "

She bowed her head, took my hands in hers, laid them lightly on herheart; then straightened up, with a long-drawn, quivering breath, andstood, eyes closed, as I unlaced her throat-points, parting thefawn-skin cape till the soft thrums lay on her snowy shoulders. 

"It is true, " I whispered. "Under the folded leaves a Hidden Maid liessleeping. I bid her sleep awhile; I bid her dream in innocence throughthis White Bridal night. I promise to disturb no leaf that sheathesher. I now refold and close again what I have scarcely touched andopened. I bid her sleep. 

"When on my lodge door they nail the Oneida stars, and seal my doorwith the moon of Tharon, and lay long shadows there to bar it; then I, within the darkness there, shall hear the tender rustle of her clinginghusks, parting to cradle two where one alone had slept since she wasborn. "

Gently I drew the points, closing the cape around her slender throat, knotted the laces, smoothed out the thrums, took her small hands andlaid them on my breast. 

One by one the stately Indians came to make their homage, bending theirwar-crests proudly and placing her hands upon their painted breasts. Then they went away in silence, each to his proper post, no doubt. Yet, to be certain, I desired to make my rounds, and bade Lois await methere. But I had not proceeded three paces when lo! Of a sudden she wasat my side, laughing her soft defiance at me in the darkness. 

"No orders do I take save what I give myself, " she said. "Which is nomutiny, Euan, and no insubordination either, seeing that you and I areone--or are like to be when the brigade chaplain passes--if the Toriesmeddle not with his honest scalp! Come! Honest Euan, shall we make ourrounds together? Or must I go alone?"

And she linked her arm in mine and put one foot forward, looking up atme with all the light mischief of the very boy she seemed in her softrifle-dress and leggins, and the bright hair crisply curling 'round hermoleskin cap. 

"Have a care of the trees, then, little minx, " I said. 

"Pooh! Can you not see in the dark?"

"Can you?"

"Surely. When you and I went to the Spring Waiontha, I needed not yourlantern light to guide me. "

"I see not well by night, " I admitted. 

"You do see well by night--through my two eyes! Are we not one? Howoften must I repeat it that you and I are one! One! One! OLoskiel--stealer of hearts, if you could only know how often on myknees I am before you--how truly I adore, how humbly, scarcely daringto believe my heart that tells me such a tale of magic andenchantment--after these barren, loveless years. Mark! Yonder standsthe Grey-Feather! Is that his post?"

"Wonder-eyes, I see him not! Wait--aye, you are right. And he is at hispost. Pass to the left, little minx. "

And so we made the rounds, finding every Indian except the Sagamore athis post. He lay asleep. And after we had returned to our southernledge of rock, and I had spread my blanket for her and laid my pack topillow her, I picked up my rifle and rose from my knees. 

"And you?" she asked. 

"I stand guard across the trail below. "

"Why? When all except the Siwanois are watching! The Night Hawk isthere. Stretch yourself here beside me and try to sleep. Your watchwill come too soon to suit you, or me either, for that matter. "

"Do you mean to go on guard with me?"

"Do you dream that I shall let you stand your guard alone, young sir?"

"This is folly, Lois--"

"Euan, you vex me. Lie beside me. Here is sufficient blanket room andpillow. And if you do not sleep presently and let me sleep too, ourwits will all be sadly addled when they summon us. "

So I stretched myself out beside her and looked up, open eyed, intodarkness. 

"Sleep well, " she whispered, smothering a little laugh. 

"Sleep safely, Lois. "

"That is why I desired you--so I might sleep safely, knowing myselfsafe when you are, too. And you are safe only when you are at my side. Do you follow my philosophy?"

I said presently: "This is our White Bridal, Lois. The ceremonycompletes itself by dawn. "

"Save that the Sagamore is but a heathen priest, truly I feel myselfalready wedded to you, so solemn was our pretty rite. .. . Dare you kissme, Euan? You never have. Christians betrothed may kiss each otheronce, I think. "

"Not such as we--if the rite means anything to us. "

"Why?"

"Not on the White Bridal night--if we regard this rite as sacred. "

"I feel its sacredness. That is why I thought no sin if you should kissme--on such a night. "

She sat up in her blanket; and I sat up, too. 

* "Tekasenthos, " she said. 

[* "I am weeping. "]

* "Chetena, you are laughing!"

[* "Mouse. "]

* "Neah. Tekasenthos!" she insisted. 

[* "No, I am weeping. "]

"Why?"

"You do not love me, " she remarked, kicking off one ankle moccasin. 

* "Kenonwea-sasita-ha-wiyo, chetenaha!" I said, laughing. 

[* "I love your beautiful foot, little mouse. "]

* "Akasita? Katontats. But is that all of me you love?"

[* "My foot? I consent. "]

"The other one also. "

"The other one also. "

* "Neah-wenh-a, O Loskiel. I shall presently slay you and go to sleep. "

[* "I thank you. "]

There fell a silence, then:

"Do you not know in your heart how it is with me?" I said unsteadily. 

She lay down, facing me. 

"In my heart I know, beloved above all men! But I am like a child withyou--desiring to please, ardent, confused, unaccustomed. And everythingyou say delights me--and all you do--or refrain from doing--thrills mewith content. .. . It was so true and sweet of you to leave my lipsuntouched. I adore you for it--but then I had adored you if you hadkissed me, also. Always, your decision pleasures me. "

After a long while I spoke cautiously. She lay asleep, her lips scarceparted; but in her sleep she seemed to hear my voice, for one arm stoleout in the dark and closed around my neck. 

And so we lay until the dark forms gliding from the forest summoned meto mount my guard, and Lois awoke with a little sigh, sat upright, thensprang to her feet to face the coming dawn alone with me. 

CHAPTER XIX

AMOCHOL

By daybreak we had salted our parched corn, soaked, and eaten it, andmy Indians were already freshening their paint. The Sagamore, strippedfor battle, barring clout and sporran, stood tall and powerfullymagnificent in his white and vermilion hue of war. On his broad chestthe scarlet Ghost Bear reared; on his crest the scarlet feathersslanted low. The Yellow Moth was unbelievably hideous in the poisonoushue of a toad-stool; his crest and all his skin glistened yellow, shining like the sulphurous belly of a snake. But the Grey-Feather wasghastly; his bony features were painted like a skull, spine, ribs, andlimb-bones traced out heavily in yellowish white so that he seemed astalking and articulated skeleton as he moved in the dim twilight ofthe trees. And I could see that he was very proud of the effect. 

As for the young and ambitious Night Hawk, he had simply made onemurderous symbol of himself--a single and terrific emblem of his entirebody, for he was painted black from head to foot like an Iroquoisexecutioner, and his skin glistened as the plumage of a sleek crowshines in the sunlight of a field. Every scalp-lock was neatly braidedand oiled; every crown shaven; every knife and war-axe and rifle-barrelglimmered silver bright under the industrious rubbing; flints had beenrenewed; with finest priming powder pans reprimed; and now all myIndians squatted amiably together in perfect accord, very loquacious intheir guarded voices, Iroquois, Mohican, and Stockbridge, foregatheringas though there had never been a feud in all the world. 

Through the early dusk of morning, Lois had stolen away, havingdiscovered a spring pool to bathe in, the creek water being dark andbitter; and I had freshened myself, too, when she returned, her softcheeks abloom, and the crisp curls still wet with spray. 

When we had eaten, the Sagamore rose and moved noiselessly down theheight of land to the trail level, where our path entered the ghostlygloom of the evergreens. I followed; Lois followed me, springinglightly from tussock to rotting log, from root to bunchy swale, swift, silent footed, dainty as a lithe and graceful panther crossing a morassdry-footed. 

Behind her trotted in order the Yellow Moth, Tohoontowhee, and lastlythe Grey-Feather--"Like Father Death herding us all to destruction, "whispered Lois in my ear, as I halted while the Sagamore surveyed thetrail ahead with cautious eyes. 

As we moved forward once more, I glanced around at Lois and thought Inever had seen such fresh and splendid vigor in any woman. Nor had Iever seen her in such a bright and happy spirit, as though the nearnessto the long sought goal was changing her every moment, under my veryeyes, into a lovelier and more radiant being than ever had trod thiswar-scarred world. 

While we had eaten our hasty morning meal, I had told her what I hadlearned of the Vale Yndaia; and this had excited her more than anythingI ever saw to happen to her, so that her grey eyes sparkled withbrilliant azure lights, and the soft colour flew from throat to brow, waxing and waning with every quick-drawn breath. 

She wore also, and for the first time, the "moccasins for flyingfeet"--and ere she put them on she showed them to me with eager andtender pride, kissing each soft and beaded shoe before she drew it overher slender foot. Around her throat, lying against her heart, nestledher father's faded picture. And as we sped I could hear her murmuringto herself:

"Jean Coeur! Jean Coeur! Enfin! Me voici en chemin!"

North, always north we journeyed, moving swiftly on a level runway, or, at fault, checked until the Sagamore found the path, sometimes pickingour dangerous ways over the glistening bog, from swale to log, nowleaping for some solid root or bunch of weed, now swinging acrossquicksands, hanging to tested branches by our hands. 

Duller grew the light as the foliage overhead became denser, until wecould scarce see the warning glimmer of the bog. Closer, taller, moreunkempt grew the hemlocks on every hand. In the ghostly twilight wecould not distinguish their separate spectral trunks, so close theygrew together. And it seemed like two solid walls through which wound adusky corridor of mud and bitter tasting water. 

Then, far ahead a level gleam caught my eye. Nearer it grew andbrighter; and presently out of the grewsome darkness of the swamp westepped into a lovely oval intervale of green ferns and grasses, setwith oak trees, and a clear, sweet thread of water dashing through it, and spraying the tall ferns along its banks so that they quivered andglistened with the sparkling drops. And here we saw a little birdflitting--the first we had seen that day. 

At the western end of the oval glade a path ran straight away as far aswe could see, seeming to pierce the western wall of the hills. Thelittle brook followed at. 

As Lois knelt to drink, the Sagamore whispered to me:

"This is the pass to the Vale Yndaia! You shall not tell her yet--nottill we have dealt with Amochol. "

"Not till we have dealt with Amochol, " I repeated, staring at thenarrow opening which crossed this black and desolate region like astreak of sunshine across burnt land. 

Tahoontowhee examined the trail; nothing had passed since the lastrain, save deer and fox. 

So I went over to where Lois was bathing her flushed face in the tinystream, and lay down to drink beside her. 

"The water is cold and sweet, " she said, "not like that bitter water inthe swamp. " She held her cupped hands for me to drink from. And Ikissed the fragrant cup. 

As we rose and I shouldered my rifle, the Grey-Feather began to sing ina low, musical, chanting voice; and all the Indians turned merry facestoward Lois and me as they nodded time to the refrain:

 "Continue to listen and hear the truth, Maiden Hidden and Hidden Youth. The song of those who are 'more than men'! *Thi-ya-en-sa-y-e-ken!"

 [* "They will (live to) see it again!"]

"It is the chant of the Stone Throwers--the Little People!" saidMayaro, laughing. "Ye two are fit to hear it. "

"They are singing the Song of the Hidden Children, " I whispered toLois. "Is it not strangely pretty?"

"It is wild music, but sweet, " she murmured, "--the music of the LittlePeople--che-kah-a-hen-wah. "

"Can you catch the words?"

"Aye, but do not understand them every one. "

"Some day I will make them into an English song for you. Listen! 'TheVoices' are beginning! Listen attentively to the Chant of*Ta-neh-u-weh-too!"

[* "Hidden in the Husks. "]

The Night Hawk was singing now, as he walked through the sunlit glade, hip-deep in scented ferns and jewel-weed. Two brilliant humming-birdswhirled around him as he strode. 

 A VOICE

 "Who shall find my Hidden Maid Where the tasselled corn is growing? Let them seek her in Kandaia, Let them seek her in Oswaya, Where the giant pines are growing, Let them seek and be afraid! Where the Adriutha flowing Splashes through the forest glade, Where the Kennyetto flowing Thunders through the hemlock shade, Let them seek and be afraid, From Oswaya To Yndaia, All the way to Carenay!"

 ANOTHER VOICE

 "Who shall find my Hidden Son Where the tasselled corn is growing? Let them seek my Hidden One From the Silver Horicon North along the Saguenay, Where the Huron cocks are crowing, Where the Huron maids are mowing Hay along the Saguenay; Where the Mohawk maids are hoeing Corn along the Carenay, Let them seek my Hidden Son, West across the inland seas, South to where the cypress trees Quench the flaming scarlet flora Of the painted Esaurora, Drenched in rivers to their knees! *Honowehto! Like Thendara! [* "They have vanished. "] Let them hunt to Danascara Back along the Saguenay, On the trail to Carenay, Through the Silver Horicon Till the night and day are one! Where the Adriutha flowing Sings below Oswaya glowing. Where the sunset of Kandaia Paints the meadows of Yndaia, Let them seek my Hidden Son 'Till the sun and moon are one!"

 *TE-KI-E-HO-KEN [* "Two Voices (together). "]

 * "Nai Shehawa! She lies sleeping, [* "Behold thy children!"] Where the green leaves closely fold her! He shall wake first and behold her Who is given to his keeping; He shall strip her of her leaves Where she sleeps amid the sheaves, Snowy white, without a stain, Nothing marred of wind or rain. So from slumber she shall waken, And behold the green robe shaken From his shoulders to her own! *Ye-ji-se-way-ad-kerone!" [* "So ye two are laid together. "]

The pretty song of the Hidden Children softened to a murmur and diedout as our trail entered the swamp once more, north of the oval glade. And into its sombre twilight we passed out of the brief gleam ofsunshine. Once more the dark and bitter water coiled its tortuouschannel through the slime; huge, gray evergreens, shaggy andforbidding, towered above, closing in closer and closer on every side, crowding us into an ever-narrowing trail. 

But this trail, since we had left the sunny glade, had become harderunder foot, and far more easy to travel; and we made fast time alongit, so that early in the afternoon we suddenly came out into that vastbelt of firm ground and rocky, set with tremendous oaks and pines andhemlocks, on the northern edge of which lies Catharines-town, on bothbanks of the stream. 

And here the stream rushed out through this country as thoughfrightened, running with a mournful sound into the northern forest; andthe pines were never still, sighing and moaning high above us, so thatthe never ceasing plaint of wind and water filled the place. 

And here, on a low, bushy ridge, we lay all day, seeing in the forestnot one living thing, nor any movement in that dim solitude, save wherethe grey and wraith-like water tossed a flat crest against some fallentree, or its dull and sullen surface gleamed like lead athwart thevalley far ahead. 

My Indians squatted, or sprawled prone along the ridge; Lois lay flaton her stomach beside me, her chin resting on her clasped hands. Wetalked of many things that afternoon--of life as we had found it, andwhat it promised us--of death, if we must find it here in these woodsbefore I made her mine. And of how long was the spirit's trail toGod--if truly it were but a swift, upward flight like to the rushing ofan arrow already flashing out of sight ere the twanging buzz of thebow-string died on the air. Or if it were perhaps a long, slow, painfuljourney through thick night, toilsome, blindly groping, wings adrooptrailing against bruised heels. Or if we two must pass by hell, withinsight and hearing of the thunderous darkness, and feel the rushing windof the pit hot on one's face. 

Sometimes, like a very child, she prattled of happiness, which she hadnever experienced, but meant to savour, wedded or not--talked to methere of all she had never known and would now know and realize withinher mother's tender arms. 

"And sometimes, Euan, dreaming of her I scarce see how, within myheart, I can find room for you also. Yet, I know well there is room forboth of you, and that one without the other would leave my happinessbut half complete. .. . I wonder if I resemble her? Will she know me--andI her? How shall we meet, Euan--after more than a score of years? Shewill see my moccasins, and cry out! She will see my face and know me, calling me by name! Oh, happiness! Oh, miracle! Will the night nevercome!"

"Dear maid and tender! You should not build your hopes too high, sothat they crush you utterly if they must fall to earth again. "

"I know. Amochol may have slain her. We will learn all when you takeAmochol--when God delivers him into your hands this night. .. . How willyou do it, Euan?"

"Take him, you mean?"

"Aye. "

"We lie south, just outside the fire-ring's edge. Boyd watches themfrom the north. His signal to us begins the business. We leap straightfor the altar and take Amochol at its very foot, the while Boyd's heavyrifles deal death on every side, keeping the others busy while we aresecuring Amochol. Then we all start south for the army, God willing, and meet our own people on the high-ridge east of us. "

"But Yndaia!"

"That we will scour the instant we have Amochol. "

"You promise?"

"Dearest, I promise solemnly. Yet--I think--if your mother lives--shemay be here in Catharines-town tonight. This is the Dream Feast, Lois. I and my Indians believe that she has bought her life of Amochol bydreaming for them. And if this be true, and she has indeed become theirProphetess and Interpreter of Dreams, then this night she will besurely here to read their dreams for them. "

"Will we see her before you begin the attack?"

"Little Lois, how can I tell you such things? We are to creep up closeto the central fire--as close as we dare. "

"Will there be crowds of people there?"

"Many people. "

"Warriors?"

"Not many. They are with Hiokatoo and Brant. There will be hunters andSachems, and the Cat-People, and the Andastes pack, and many women. TheFalse Faces will not be there, nor the Wyoming Witch, nor the ToadWoman, because all these are now with Hiokatoo and Walter Butler. Forwhich I thank God and am very grateful. "

"How shall I know her in this fire-lit throng?" murmured Lois, staringahead of her where the evening dusk had now veiled the nearer treeswith purple. 

Before I could reply, the Sagamore rose from his place on my left, andwe all sprang lightly to our feet, looked to our priming, covered ourpans, and trailed arms. 

"Now!" he muttered, passing in front of me and taking the lead; and weall filed after him through the open forest, moving rapidly, almost ona run, for half a mile, then swung sharply out to the right, where thetrees grew slimmer and thinner, and plunged into a thicket of hazel andosier. 

"I smell smoke, " whispered Lois, keeping close to me. 

I nodded. Presently we halted and stood in silence, minute afterminute, while the purple dusk deepened swiftly around us, and overheada few stars came out palely, as though frightened. 

Then Mayaro dropped noiselessly to the ground and began to crawlforward over the velvet moss; and we followed his example, feeling ourway with our right hands to avoid dry branches and rocks. From time totime we paused to regain our strength and breathe; and the last time wedid so the aromatic smell of birch-smoke blew strong in our nostrils, and there came to our ears a subdued murmur like the stirring ofpine-tops in a steady breeze. But there were no pines around us now, only osier, hazel, and grey-birch, and the deep moss under foot. 

"A house!" whispered the Yellow Moth, pointing. 

There it stood, dark and shadowy against the north. Another loomeddimly beyond it; a haystack rose to the left. 

We were in Catharines-town. 

And now, as we crawled forward, we could see open country on our left, and many unlighted houses and fields of corn, dim and level against theencircling forest. The murmur on our right had become a sustained anddistinct sound, now swelling in the volume of many voices, nowsubsiding, then waxing to a dull tumult. And against the borders of thewoods, like a shining crimson curtain shifting, we could see the redreflection of a fire sweeping across the solid foliage. 

With infinite precautions, we moved through the thicket toward it, theglare growing yellower and more brilliant as we advanced. And now weremained motionless and very still. 

Massed against the flare of light were crowded many people in a vast, uneven circle ringing a great central fire, except at the southern end. And here, where the ring was open so that we could see the huge fireitself, stood a great, stone slab on end, between two round mounds ofearth. It was the altar of Amochol, and we knew it instantly, where itstood between the ancient mounds raised by the Alligewi. 

The drums had not yet begun while we were still creeping up, but theybegan now, muttering like summer thunder, the painted drummers marchinginto the circle and around it twice before they took their places tothe left of the altar, squatting there and ceaselessly beating theirhollow sounding drums. Then, in file, the eight Sachems of thedishonoured Senecas filed into the fiery circle, chanting and timingtheir slow steps to the mournful measure of their chant. All wore theSachem's crest painted white; their bodies were most barbarouslystriped with black and white, and their blankets were pure white, crossed by a single blood-red band. 

What they chanted I could not make out, but that it was some blasphemywhich silently enraged my Indians was plain enough; and I laid aquieting hand on the Sagamore's shaking arm, cautioning him; and hetouched the Oneidas and the Stockbridge, one by one, in warning. 

Opposite us, the ruddy firelight played over the massed savages, women, children, and old men mostly, gleaming on glistening eyes, sparkling onwampum and metal ornaments. To the right and left of us a few knivesand hatchets caught the firelight, and many multi-coloured plumes andblankets glowed in its shifting brilliancy. 

The eight Sachems stood, tall and motionless, behind the altar; thedrumming never ceased, and from around the massed circle rose a lowsing-song chant, keeping time to the hollow rhythm of the drums:

 * "Onenh are oya Egh-des-ho-ti-ya-do-re-don Nene ronenh 'Ken-ki-ne ne-nya-wenne!"

 [* "Now again they decided and said: 'This shall be done!'"]

Above this rumbling undertone sounded the distant howling of dogs inCatharines-town; and presently the great forest owls woke up, yelpinglike goblins across the misty intervale. Strangely enough, the dulledpandemonium, joined in by dog and owl and drum and chanting savages, made but a single wild and melancholy monotone seeming to suit the timeand place as though it were the voice of this fierce wilderness itself. 

Now into the circle, one by one, came those who had dreamed and must beanswered--not as in the old-time and merry Feast of Dreams, where therites were harmless and the mirth and jollity innocent, if rough--forAmochol had perverted the ancient and innocent ceremony, making of afourteen-day feast a sinister rite which ended in a single night. 

I understood this more clearly now, as I lay watching the proceedings, for I had seen this feast in company with Guy Johnson on the Kennyetto, and found in it nothing offensive and no revolting license orblasphemy, though others may say this is not true. 

Yet, how can a rite which begins with three days religious services, including confession of sins on wampum, be otherwise than decent? Asfor the rest of the feast, the horse-play, skylarking, dancing, guessing contests--the little children's dance on the tenth day, theDance for Four on the eleventh, the Dance for the Eight Thunders on thethirteenth--the noisy, violent, but innocent romping of the FalseFaces--all this I had seen in the East, and found no evil in it and nodebauchery. 

But what was now already going on I had never seen at any Iroquoisfeast or rite, and what Amochol had made of this festival I dared notconjecture as I gazed at the Dreamers now advancing into the circlewith an abandon and an effrontery scarcely decent. 

Six young girls came first, naked except for a breadth of fawn-skinfalling from waist to instep. Their bodies were painted vermilion frombrow to ankle; they carried in their hands red harvest apples, whichthey tossed one to another as they move lightly across the open spacein a slow, springy, yet not ungraceful dance. 

Behind them came a slim maid, wearing only a black fox-head, and thesoft pelt dangling from her belt, and the tail behind. She was painteda ruddy yellow everywhere except a broad line of white in front, like afox's belly; and, like a fox, too, her feet and hands were paintedblack. 

Following her came eight girls plumed in spotless white and clothedonly in white feathers--aping the Thunders, doubtless; but even to me, a white man and a Christian, it was a sinister and evil sight to seethis mockery as they danced forward, arms entwined, and the snowyplumes floating out in the firelight, disclosing the white paintedbodies which the firelight tinted with rose and amber lights. 

Then came dancing other girls, dressed in most offensive mockery of theharmless and ancient rite--first the Fire Keeper, crowned with oakleaves instead of wild cherry, and wearing a sewed garment made of oaktwigs and tufted leaves, from which the acorns hung. Followed two girlsin cloaks of shimmering pine-needles, and wearing wooden masks, dragging after them the carcasses of two white dogs, to "Clothe theMoon Witch!" they cried to the burly Erie acolyte who followed them, his heavy knife shining in his hand. 

Then the Erie disemboweled the strangled dogs, cast their entrails intothe fire, and kicked aside the carcasses, shouting:

"Atensi stands naked upon the Moon! What shall she wear to cover her?"

"The soft hide of a Hidden Child!" answered a Sachem from behind thealtar. "We have so dreamed it. "

"It shall be done!" cried the Erie; and, lifting himself on tip toe, hethrew back his brutal head and gave the Panther Cry so that his voicerang hideously through the night. 

Instantly into the circle came scurrying the Andastes, some wearing theheads of bulls, some of wolves, foxes, bears, their bodies paintedhorribly in raw reds and yellows, and running about like a pack ofloosened hounds. All their movements were wild and aimless, and likeanimals, and they seemed to smell their way as they ran about hitherand thither, sniffing, listening, but seldom looking long or directlyat any one thing. 

I was sorely afraid that some among them might come roving and muzzlinginto the bushes where we lay; but they did not, gradually gatheringinto an uneasy pack and settling on their haunches near the dancinggirls, who played with them, and tormented them with branches of hazel, samphire and green osier. 

Suddenly a young girl, jewelled with multi-coloured diamonds of paint, and jingling all over with little bells, came dancing into the ring, beating a tiny, painted drum as she advanced. She wore only a narrowsporran of blue-birds' feathers to her knees, glistening blue moccasinsof the same plumage, and a feathered head dress of the scarletfire-bird. Behind her filed the Cat-People, Amochol's hideous acolytes, each wearing the Nez Perce ridge of porcupine-like hair, the lynx-skincloak and necklace of claws; and all howling to the measure of thelittle painted drum. I could feel Mayaro beside me, quivering witheagerness and fury; but the time was not yet, and he knew it, as didhis enraged comrades. 

For behind the Eries, moving slowly, came a slender shape, shrouded inwhite. Her head was bent in the shadow of her cowl; her white woolvestments trailed behind her. Both hands were clasped together underher loose robe. On her cowl was a wreath of nightshade, with its dullpurple fruit and blossoms clustering around her shadowed brow. 

"Who is that?" whispered Lois, beginning to tremble, "God knows, " Isaid. "Wait!"

The shrouded shape moved straight to the great stone altar and stoodthere a moment facing it; then, veiling her face with her robe, sheturned, mounted the left hand mound, and seated herself, head bowed. 

Toward her, advancing all alone, was now approaching a figure, painted, clothed, and plumed in scarlet. Everything was scarlet about him, hismoccasins, his naked skin, the fantastic cloak and blanket, girdle, knife-hilt, axe shaft, and the rattling quiver on his back--nay, thevery arrows in it were set with scarlet feathers, and the loopedbowstring was whipped with crimson sinew. 

The Andastes came moaning, cringing, fawning, and leaping about hisknees; he noticed them not at all; the Cat-People, seated in asemicircle, looked up humbly as he passed; he ignored them. 

Slowly he moved to the altar and laid first his hand upon it, thenunslung his bow and quiver and laid them there. A great silence fellupon the throng. And we knew we were looking at last upon the ScarletPriest. 

Yes, this was Amochol, the Red Sachem, the vile, blaspheming, murderous, and degraded chief who had made of a pure religion a horror, and of a whole people a nation of unspeakable assassins. 

As the firelight flashed full in his face, I saw that his features werenot painted; that they were delicate and regular, and that the skin waspale, betraying his French ancestry. 

And good God! What a brood of demons had that madman, Frontenac, begotto turn loose upon this Western World! For there appeared to be aMontour in every bit of devil's work we ever heard of--and it seemed asthough there was no end to their number. One, praise God, had beenslain before Wyoming--which some said enraged the Witch, his mother, tothe fearsome deeds she did there--and one was this man's sister, LynMontour--a sleek, lithe girl of the forest, beautiful and depraved. Butthe Toad Woman, mother of Amochol, was absent, and of all the Montoursonly this strange priest had remained at Catharines-town. And him wewere now about to take or slay. 

"Amochol!" whispered the Sagamore in my ear. 

"I know, " I said. "It is strange. He is not like a monster, after all. "

"He is beautiful, " whispered Lois. 

I stared at the pale, calm face over which the firelight played. Thefeatures seemed almost perfect, scarcely cruel, yet there was in theeyes a haunting beauty that was almost terrible when they became fixed. 

To his scarlet moccasins crept the Andastes, one by one, and squattedthere in silence. 

Then a single warrior entered the ring. He was clad in the ancientarrow-proof armour of the Iroquois, woven of sinew and wood. His facewas painted jet black, and he wore black plumes. He mounted the easternmound, strung his bow, set an arrow to the string, and seated himself. 

The red acolytes came forward, and the slim Prophetess bent her headtill the long, dark hair uncoiled and fell down, clouding her to thewaist in shadow. 

"Hereckenes!" cried Amochol in a clear voice; and at the sound of theirancient name the Cat-People began a miauling chant. 

"Antauhonorans!" cried Amochol. 

Every Seneca took up the chant, and the drums timed it softly andsteadily. 

"Prophetess!" said Amochol in a ringing voice. "I have dreamed that theMoon Witch and her grandson Iuskeha shall be clothed. With what, then, shall they be clothed, O Woman of the Night Sky? Explain to my peoplethis dream that I have dreamed. "

The slim, white-cowled figure answered slowly, with bowed head, brooding motionless in the shadow of her hair:

"Two dogs lie yonder for Atensi and her grandson. Let them be paintedwith the sun and moon. So shall the dream of Amochol come true!"

"Sorceress!" he retorted fiercely. "Shall I not offer to Atensi andIuskeha two Hidden Children, that white robes may be made of theirunblemished skins to clothe the Sun and Moon?"

"Into the eternal wampum it is woven that the soft, white skins shallclothe their bodies till the husks fall from the silken corn. "

"And then, Witch of the East? Shall I not offer them when the husks arestripped?"

"I see no further than you dream, O Amochol!"

He stretched out his arm toward her, menacingly:

"Yet they shall both be strangled here upon this stone!" he said. "Look, Witch! Can you not see them lying there together? I have dreamedit. "

She silently pointed at the two dead dogs. 

"Look again!" he cried in a loud voice. "What do you see?"

She made no reply. 

"Answer!" he said sharply. 

"I have looked. And I see only the eternal wampum lying at myfeet--lacking a single belt. "

With a furious gesture the Red Priest turned and stared at the dancinggirls who raised their bare arms, crying:

"We have dreamed, O Amochol! Let your Sorceress explain our dreams tous!"

And one after another, as their turns came, they leaped up from theground and sprang forward. The first, a tawny, slender, mocking thing, flung wide her arms. 

"Look, Sorceress! I dreamed of a felled sapling and a wolverine! Whatmeans my dream?"

And the slim, white figure, head bowed in her dark hair, answeredquietly:

"O dancer of the Na-usin, who wears okwencha at the Onon-hou-aroria, yet is no Seneca, the felled sapling is thou thyself. Heed lest thewolverine shall scent a human touch upon thy breast!" And she pointedat the Andastes. 

A dead silence followed, then the girl, horror struck, shrank back, herhands covering her face. 

Another sprang forward and cried:

"Sorceress! I dreamed of falling water and a red cloud at sunsethanging like a plume!"

"Water falls, daughter of Mountain Snakes. Every drop you saw was adead man falling. And the red cloud was red by reason of blood; and theplume was the crest of a war chief. "

"What chief!" said Amochol, turning his deadly eyes on her. 

"A Gate-Keeper of the West. "

The shuddering silence was broken by the eager voice of another girl, bounding from her place--a flash of azure and jewelled paint. 

"And I, O Sorceress! I dreamed of night, and a love song under themillion stars. And of a great stag standing in the water. "

"Had the stag no antlers, little daughter?"

"None, for it was spring time. "

"You dreamed of night. It shall be night for a long while--for ages andages, ere the stag's wide antlers crown his head again. For the antlerswere lying upon a new made grave. And the million stars were the lightsof camp-fires. And the love-song was the Karenna. And the water youbeheld was the river culled Chemung. "

The girl seemed stunned, standing there plucking at her fingers, scarlet lips parted, and her startled eyes fixed upon the white-drapedsibyl. 

"Executioner! Bend your bow!" cried Amochol, with a terrible stare atthe Sorceress. 

The man in woven armour raised his bow, bent it, drawing the arrow tothe tip. At the same instant the Prophetess rose to her feet, flungback her cowl, and looked Amochol steadily in the eyes from the shadowof her hair. 

So, for a full minute in utter silence, they stared at each other; thenAmochol said between his teeth:

"Have a care that you read truly what my people dream!"

"Shall I lie?" she asked in even tones. And, quivering with impotentrage and superstition, the Red Priest found no word to answer. 

"O Amochol, " she said, "let the armoured executioner loose his shaft. It is poisoned. Never since the Cat-People were overthrown has apoisoned arrow been used within the Long House. Never since theAtotarho covered his face from Hiawatha--never since the snakes werecombed from his hair--has a Priest of the Long House dared to doubt theProphetess of the Seneca nation. Doubt--and die!"

Amochol's face was like pale brown marble; twice he half turned towardthe executioner, but gave no signal. Finally, he laid his hand flat onthe altar; the executioner unbent his bow and the arrow drooped fromthe painted haft and dangled there, its hammered iron war-head glintingin the firelight. 

Then the Prophetess turned and stood looking out over the throngthrough the thick, aromatic smoke from the birch-fire, and presentlyher clear voice rang through the deathly silence:

"O People of the Evening Sky! Far on the Chemung lie many dead men. Isee them lying there in green coats and in red, in feathers and inpaint! Through forests, through mountains, through darkness, have myeyes beheld this thing. There is a new thunder in the hills, and redfire flowers high in the pines, and a hail falls, driving earthward iniron drops that slay all living things. 

"New clouds hang low along the river; and they are not of the watermist that comes at twilight and ascends with the sun. Nor is this newthunder in the hills the voice of the Eight White Plumed Ones; nor isthe boiling of the waters the stirring of the Serpent Bride. 

"Red run the riffles, yet the sun is high; and those who would cross atthe ford have laid them down to dam the waters with their bodies. 

"And I see fires along the flats; I see flames everywhere, towns onfire, corn burning, hay kindling to ashes under a white ocean ofsmoke--the Three Sisters scorched, trampled, and defiled!" She liftedone arm; her spellbound audience never stirred. 

"Listen!" she cried, "I hear the crashing of many feet in northwardflight! I hear horses galloping, and the rattle of swords. Many who runare stumbling, falling, lying still and crushed and wet with blood. I, Sorceress of the Senecas, see and hear these things; and as I see andhear, so must I speak my warning to you all!"

She whirled on Amochol, flinging back her hair. Her skin was as whiteus my own!

With a stifled cry Lois sprang to her feet; but I caught her and heldher fast. 

"Good God!" I whispered to the Sagamore. "Where is Boyd?"

The executioner had risen, and was bending his bow; the Sorceressturned deathly pale but her blue eyes flashed, never swerving from thecruel stare of Amochol. 

"Where is Boyd?" I whispered helplessly. "They mean to murder her!"

"Kill that executioner!" panted Lois, struggling in my arms. "In God'sname, slay him where he stands!"

"It means our death, " said the Sagamore. 

The Night Hawk came crouching close to my shoulder. He had unslung andstrung his little painted bow of an adolescent, and was fitting thenock of a slim arrow to the string. 

He looked up at me; I nodded; and as the executioner clapped his heelstogether, straightened himself, and drew the arrow to his ear, we hearda low twang! And saw the black hand of the Seneca pinned to his own bowby the Night Hawk's shaft. 

So noiselessly was it done that the fascinated throng could not atfirst understand what had happened to the executioner, who sprang intothe air, screamed, and stood clawing and plucking at the arrow whilehis bow hung dripping with blood, yet nailed to his shrinking palm. 

Amochol, frozen to a scarlet statue, stared at the contortions of theexecutioner for a moment, then, livid, wheeled on the Prophetess, shaking from head to foot. 

"Is this your accursed magic?" he shouted. "Is this your witchcraft, Sorceress of Biskoonah? Is it thus you strike when threatened? Then youshall burn! Take her, Andastes!"

But the Andastes, astounded and terrified, only cowered together in aswaying pack. 

Restraining Lois with all my strength, I said to the Mohican:

"If Boyd comes not before they take her, concentrate your fire onAmochol, for we can not hope to make him prisoner----"

"Hark!" motioned the Sagamore, grasping my arm. I heard also, and sodid the others. The woods on our left were full of noises, the trampleof people running, the noise of crackling underbrush. 

We all thought the same thing, and stood waiting to see Boyd's onsetbreak from the forest. The Red Priest also heard it, for he had turnedwhere he stood, his rigid arm still menacing the White Sorceress. 

Suddenly, into the firelit circle staggered a British soldier, hatless, dishevelled, his scarlet uniform in rags. 

For a moment he stood staring about him, swaying where he stood, thenwith a hopeless gesture he flung his musket from him and passed ashaking hand across his eyes. 

"O Amochol!" cried the Sorceress, pointing a slim and steady finger atthe bloody soldier. "Have I dreamed lies or have I dreamed the truth?Hearken! The woods are full of people running! Do you hear? And have Ilied to you, O Amochol?"

"From whence do you come?" cried Amochol, striding toward the soldier. 

"From the Chemung. Except for the dead we all are coming--Butler andBrant and all. Bring out your corn, Seneca! The army starves. "

Amochol stared at the soldier, at the executioner still writhing andstruggling to loose his hand from the bloody arrow, at the Sorceresswho had veiled her face. 

"Witch!" he cried, "get you to Yndaia. If you stir elsewhere you shallburn!"

He had meant to say more, I think, but at that moment, from thesouthern woods men came reeling out into the fire-circle--ghastly, bloody, ragged creatures in shreds of uniforms, green, red, andbrown--men and officers of Sir John's regiment, men of Butler'sRangers, British regulars. On their heels glided the Seneca warriors, warriors of the Cayugas, Onondagas, Caniengas, Esauroras, and here andthere a traitorous Oneida, and even a few Hurons. 

Pell-mell this mob of fighting men came surging through thefire-circle, and straight into Catharines-town, while I and my Indianscrouched there, appalled and astounded. 

I saw Sir John Johnson come up with the officers of his two battalionsand a captain, a sergeant, a corporal, and fifteen British regulars. 

"Clear me out this ring of mummers!" he said in his cold, penetratingvoice. "And thou, Amochol, if this damned town of thine be stocked, bring out the provisions and set these Eries a-roasting corn!"

I saw McDonald storming and cursing at his irregulars, where the poorbrutes had gathered into a wavering rank; I saw young Walter Butlerharanguing his Rangers and Senecas; I saw Brant, calm, noble, stately, standing supported by two Caniengas while a third examined his woundedleg. 

The whole place was a tumult of swarming savages and white men; alreadythe Seneca women, crowding among the men, were raising the death wail. The dancing girls huddled together in a frightened and half-nakedgroup; the Andastes cowered apart; the servile Eries were staggeringout of the corn fields laden with ripe ears; and the famished soldierswere shouting and cursing at them and tearing the corn from their armsto gnaw the raw and milky grains. 

How we were to withdraw and escape destruction I did not clearly see, for our path must cross the eastern belt of forest, and it was stillswarming with fugitives arriving, limping, dragging themselves in fromthe disaster of the Chemung. 

Hopeless to dream of taking or slaying Amochol now; hopeless to thinkof warning Boyd or even of finding him. Somewhere in the North he hadmet with obstacles which delayed him. He must scout for himself, now, for the entire Tory army was between him and us. 

"There is but one way now, " whispered the Mohican. 

"By Yndaia, " I said. 

My Indians were of the same opinion. 

"I should have gone there anyway, " said Lois, still all a-quiver, andshivering close to my shoulder. I put my arm around her; every muscleof her body was rigid, taut, yet trembling, as a smooth and finelyturned pointer trembles with eagerness and powerful self-control. 

"Amochol has driven her thither, " she whispered. "Shall we not be onour way?"

"Can you lead, Mayaro?" I whispered. 

The Mohican turned and crawled southward on his hands and knees, movingslowly. 

"For God's sake let them hear no sound in this belt of bush, " Iwhispered to Lois. 

"I am calm, Euan. I am not afraid. "

"Then fallow the Sagamore. "

One by one we turned and crept away southward; and I was ever fearfulthat some gleam from the fire, catching our rifle-barrels or axe-heads, might betray us. But we gained the denser growth undiscovered, thenrose to our feet in the open forest and hurried forward in file, crowding close to keep in touch. 

Once Lois turned and called back in a low, breathless voice;

"I thank Tahoontowhee from my heart for his true eye and his avengingarrow. "

The young warrior laughed; but I knew he was the proudest youth in allthe West that night. 

The great cat-owls were shrieking and yelping through the forest as wesped southward. My Indians, silent and morose, their vengeance unslakedand now indefinitely deferred, moved at a dog trot through the forest, led by the Sagamore, whose eyes saw as clearly in the dark as my own byday. 

And after a little while we noticed the stars above us, and felt fernsand grass under our feet, and came out into that same glade from whenceruns the trail to Yndaia through the western hill cleft. 

"People ahead!" whispered the Sagamore. "Their Sorceress and six Eries!"

"Are you certain?" I breathed, loosening my hatchet. 

"Certain, Loskiel. Yonder they are halted within the ferns. They are atthe stream, drinking. "

I caught Lois by the wrist. 

"Come with me--hurry!" I said, as the Indians darted away and began tocreep out and around the vague and moving group of shadows. And as wesped forward I whispered brokenly my instructions, conjuring her toobey. 

We were right among them before they dreamed of our coming; not awar-cry was uttered; there was no sound save the crashing blows ofhatchets, the heavy, panting breathing of those locked in a deathstruggle, the deep groan and coughing as a knife slipped home. 

I flung a clawing Erie from me ere his blood drenched me, and he fellfloundering, knifed through and through, and tearing a hole in myrifle-cape with his teeth as he fell. Two others lay under foot; myOneidas were slaying another in the ferns, and the Sagamore's hatchet, swinging like lightning, dashed another into eternity. 

The last one ran, but stumbled, with three arrows in his burly neck andspine; and the Night Hawk's hatchet flew, severing the thread of lifefar him and hurling him on his face. Instantly the young Oneida leapedupon the dead man's shoulders, pulled back his heavy head, and tore thescalp off with a stifled cry of triumph. 

"The Black-Snake!" said the Sagamore at my side, breathing heavily fromhis bloody combat, and dashing the red drops from the scalp he swung. "Look yonder, Loskiel! Our little Rosy Pigeon has returned at last!"

I had seen it already, but I turned to look. And I saw the WhiteSorceress and my sweetheart close locked in each other's arms--so closeand motionless that they seemed but a single snowy shape there underthe lustre of the stars. 

CHAPTER XX

YNDAIA

At the mouth of the pass which led to the Vale Yndaia I lay with myIndians that night, two mounting guard, then one, then two more, andthe sentinels changed every three hours throughout the night. But allwere excited and all slept lightly. 

Within the Vale Yndaia, perhaps a hundred yards from the mouth of thepass, stood the lonely little house of bark in which Madame deContrecoeur had lived alone for twenty years. 

And here, that night, Lois lay with her mother; and no living thingnearer the dim house than we who mounted guard--except for the littlebirds asleep that Madame de Contrecoeur had tamed, and the small forestcreatures which had learned to come fearlessly at this lonely woman'slow-voiced call. And these things I learned not then, but afterwards. 

Never had I seen such utter loneliness--for it had been less asolitude, it seemed to me, had the little house not stood there underthe pale lustre of the stars. 

On every side lofty hills enclosed the valley, heavily timbered totheir crests; and through the intervale the rill ran, dashing out ofthe pass and away into that level, wooded strip to the fern-glade whichlay midway between the height of land and Catharines-town; and therejoined the large stream which flowed north. I could see in the darknesslittle of the secret and hidden valley called Yndaia, only the heightssilhouetted against the stars, a vague foreground sheeted with mist, and the dark little house standing there all alone under the stars. 

All night long the great tiger-owls yelped and hallooed across thevalley; all night the spectral whip-poor-will whispered its husky, frightened warning. And long after midnight a tiny bird awoke and sangmonotonously for an hour or more. 

Awaiting an attack from Catharines-town at any moment, we dared notmake a fire or even light a torch. Rotten trunks which had fallenacross the stream we dragged out and piled up across the mouth of thepass to make a defence; but we could do no more than that; and, ourefforts ended, my Indians sat in a circle cross-legged, quietly hoopingand stretching their freshly taken scalps by the dim light of thestars, and humming their various airs of triumph in low, contented, andpurring voices. All laboured under subdued excitement, the brief andalmost silent slaughter in the ferns having thoroughly aroused them. But the tension showed only in moments of abrupt gaiety, as when Mayarochallenged them to pronounce his name, and they could not, there beingno letter "M" in the Iroquois language--neither "P" nor "B" either, forthat matter--so they failed at "Butler" too, and Philip Schuyler, whicharoused all to nervous merriment. 

The Yellow Moth finished braiding his trophy first, went to the stream, and washed the blood from his weapons and his hands, polished up knifeand hatchet, freshened his priming and covered it, and then, being aChristian, said his prayers on his knees, rolled over on his blanket, and instantly fell asleep. 

One by one the others followed his example, excepting the Sagamore, whoyawning with repressed excitement, picked up his rifle, mounted theabattis, and squatted there, his chin on a log, motionless and intentas a hunting cat in long grass. I joined him; and there we satunstirring, listening, peering ahead into the mist-shot darkness, untilour three hours' vigil ended. 

Then we noiselessly summoned the Grey-Feather, and he crept up to thelog defence, rifle in hand, to sit there alone until his three hours'duty was finished, when the Yellow Moth and Tahoontowhee should takehis place. 

It was already after sunrise when I was awakened by the tinkle of acow-bell. A broad, pinkish shaft of sunshine slanted through the passinto the hidden valley; and for the first time in my life I now beheldthe Vale Yndaia in all the dewy loveliness of dawn. A milch cow fedalong the brook, flank-deep in fern. Chickens wandered in its wake, snapping at gnats and tiny, unseen creatures under the leaves. 

Dainty shreds of fog rose along the stream, films of mist floated amongsun-tipped ferns and bramble sprays. The little valley, cup-shaped andgreen, rang with the loud singing of birds. The pleasant noises of thebrook filled my ears. All the western hills were now rosy where therising sun struck their crests; north and south a purplish plum-bloomstill tinted velvet slopes, which stretched away against a saffron skyuntroubled by a cloud. 

But the pretty valley and its green grass and ferns and hills held myattention only at moments, for my eyes ever reverted to the low barkhouse, with its single chimney of clay, now stained orange by the sun. 

All the impatience and tenderness and not ignoble curiosity so longrestrained assailed me now, as I gazed upon that solitary dwelling, where the unhappy mother of Lois de Contrecoeur had endured captivityfor more than twenty years. 

Vines of the flowering scarlet bean ran up the bark sides of the house, and over the low doorway; and everywhere around grew wild flowers andthickets of laurel and rhododendron, as in a cultivated park. And I sawthat she had bordered a walk of brook-pebbles with azaleas andmarsh-honeysuckles, making a little path to the brook over which was alog bridge with hand rails. 

But laurel, azalea, and rhododendron bloomed no longer; the flowersthat now blossomed in a riot of azure, purple, and gold on every sidewere the lovely wild asters and golden-rod; and no pretty garden setwith formal beds and garnished artfully seemed to compare with thiswild garden in the Vale Yndaia. 

As the sun warmed the ground, the sappy perfume of tree and fern andgrass mounted, scenting the pure, cool air with warm and balm-likeodours. Gauzy winged creatures awoke, flitted, or hung glittering tosome frail stem. The birds' brief autumn music died away; only the drychirring of a distant squirrel broke the silence, and the faint tinkleof the cow-bell. 

My Indians, now all awake, were either industriously painting theirfeatures or washing their wounds and scratches and filling them withbalsam and bruised witch-hazel, or were eating the last of our parchedcorn and stringy shreds of leathery venison. All seemed as complacentas a party of cats licking their rumpled fur; and examining theirbites, scratches, bruises, and knife wounds, I found no serious injuryamong them, and nothing to stiffen for very long the limbs of men insuch a hardy condition. 

The youthful Night Hawk was particularly proud of an ugly knife-slash, with which the Black Snake had decorated his chest--nay, I suspectedhim of introducing sumac juice to make it larger and more showy--butsaid nothing, as these people knew well enough how to care for theirbodies. 

Doubtless they were full as curious as was I concerning Madame deContrecoeur--perhaps more so, because not one of them but believed herthe Sorceress which unhappy circumstances had obliged her to pretend tobe. Pagan or Christian, no Indian is ever rid of superstition. 

Yet, devoured by curiosity, not one of them betrayed it, forbearing, atleast in my presence, even to mention the White Prophetess of theSenecas, though they voiced their disappointment freely enoughconcerning the escape of Amochol. 

So we ate our corn and dried meat, and drank at the pretty rill, andcleansed us of mud and blood, each after his own fashion--discussingthe scalping of the Eries the while, the righteous death of theBlack-Snake, the rout of Butler's army, and how its unexpected arrivalhad saved Amochol. For none among us doubted that, another half hour atmost, and we had heard the cracking signal of Boyd's rifles across thehideous and fiery space. 

We were not a whit alarmed concerning Boyd and his party. ReconnoitringCatharines-town from the north, they must have very quickly discoveredthe swarm of partly crippled hornets, so unexpectedly infesting thenest; and we felt sure that they had returned in safety to watch andkeep in touch with the beaten army. 

Yet, beaten at Chemung, exhausted after a rapid and disorderly retreat, this same defeated Tory army was still formidable and dangerous. We hadseen enough of them to understand that. Fewer men than these atCatharines-town had ambuscaded Braddock; fewer still had destroyedanother British expedition; while in the north Abercrombie had beenwhipped by an enemy less than a quarter as strong as his own force. 

No, we veteran riflemen knew that this motley army of Butler andMcDonald, if it had indeed lost a few rattles, had however parted withnone of its poison fangs. Also, Amochol still lived. And it had beenstill another Montour of the wily and accursed Frontenacbreed--"Anasthose the Huron"--who had encompassed the destruction ofBraddock. 

That the night had passed without a sign of an enemy, and the dawn hadheralded no yelling onset, we could account for either because noscouts from Catharines-town had as yet discovered the scalped bodies ofthe Eries in the glade, or because our own pursuing army was so closethat no time could be taken by the Senecas to attack a narrow pass heldby five resolute men. 

Now that the sun had risen I worried not at all over our futureprospects, believing that we would hear from our advancing army byafternoon; and the Sagamore was of my opinion. 

And even while we were discussing these chances, leaning against ourlog abattis in the sunshine, far away across the sunlit flat-woods wesaw a man come out among the ferns from the southward, and lie down. And then another man came creeping from the south, and another, and yetanother, the sunlight running red along their rifle barrels. 

After them went both Oneidas, gliding swiftly out and speeding forwardjust within the encircling cover, taking every precaution, although wewere almost certain that the distant scouts were ours. 

And they proved to be my own men--a handful of Morgan's--pushing far inadvance to reconnoitre Catharines-town from the south, although ourmain army was marching by the western ridges, where Boyd had marked apath for them. 

A corporal in my corps, named Baily, came back with the Oneidas, climbed with them over the logs, sprang down inside, and saluted mecoolly enough. 

His scout of four, he admitted, had made a bad job of the swamptrail--and his muddy and disordered dress corroborated this. But thenews he brought was interesting. 

He had not seen Boyd. The Battle of the Chemung had ended in adisorderly rout of Butler's army, partly because we had outflankedtheir works, partly because Butler's Indians could not be held to faceour artillery fire, though Brant displayed great bravery in rallyingthem. We had lost few men and fewer officers; grain-fields, hay-stacks, and Indian towns were afire everywhere along our line of march. 

Detachments followed every water-course, to wipe out the lesser towns, gardens, orchards, and harvest fields on either flank, and gather upthe last stray head of the enemy's cattle. The whole Iroquois Empirewas now kindling into flames and the track our army left behind it wasa blackened desolation, as horrible to those who wrought it as to thewretched and homeless fugitives who had once inhabited it. 

He added to me in a lower voice, glancing at my Indians with theineradicable distrust of the average woodsman, that our advanced guardhad discovered white captives in several of the Indian towns--in one ayoung mother with a child at her breast. She, her husband, and fivechildren had been taken at Wyoming. The Indians and Tories had murderedall save her and her baby. Her name was Mrs. Lester. 

In one town, he said, they found a pretty little white child, terriblyemaciated, sitting on the grass and playing with a chicken. It couldspeak only the Iroquois language. Doubtless its mother had beenmurdered long since. So starved was the little thing that had ourofficers not restrained it the child might have killed itself by toomuch eating. 

Also, they found a white prisoner--a man taken at Wyoming, one LukeSweatland; and it was said in the army that another young white girlhad been found in company with her little brother, both painted likeIndians, and that still another white child was discovered, whichCaptain Machin had instantly adopted for his own. 

The Corporal further said that our army was proceeding slowly, muchtime being consumed in laying the axe to the plum, peach, and appleorchards; and that it was a sad sight to see the heavily fruited treesfall over, crushing the ripe fruit into the mud. 

He thought that the advanced guard of our army might be up by eveningto burn Catharines-town, but was not certain. Then he asked permissionto go back and rejoin the scout which he commanded; which permission Igave, though it was not necessary; and away he went, running like ayoung deer that has lagged from the herd--a tall, fine, wholesome youngfellow, and as sturdy and active as any I ever saw in rifle-dress andruffles. 

My Indians lay down on their bellies, stretching themselves out in thesun across the logs, and, save for the subdued but fierce glimmer undertheir lazy lids, they seemed as pleasant and harmless as four tawnypumas a-sunning on the rocks. 

As for me, I wandered restlessly along the brook, as far as the bridge, and, seating myself here, fished out writing materials and my journalfrom my pouch, and filled in the events of the preceding days asbriefly and exactly as I knew how. Also I made a map of Catharines-townand of Yndaia from memory, resolving to correct it later when Mr. Lodgeand his surveyors came up, if opportunity permitted. 

As I sat there musing and watching the chickens loitering around thedooryard, I chanced to remember the milch cow. 

Casting about for a receptacle, I discovered several earthen jars ofSeneca make set in willow baskets and standing by the stream. These Iwashed in the icy water, then slinging two of them on my shoulder Iwent in quest of the cow. 

She proved tame enough and glad, apparently, to be relieved of hermilk, I kneeling to accomplish the business, having had experience withthe grass-guard of our army on more than one occasion. 

Lord! How sweet the fragrance of the milk to a man who had seen none inmany days. And so I carried back my jars and set them by the door ofthe bark house, covering each with a flat stone. And as I turned away, I saw smoke coming from the chimney; and heard the shutters on thesouthern window being gently opened. 

Lord! What a sudden leap my heart gave as the door before me moved withthe soft sliding of the great oak bolt, and was slowly opened wide tothe morning sunshine. 

For a moment I thought it was Lois who stood there so white and still, looking at me with grey, unfathomable eyes; then I stepped forwarduncertainly, bending in silence over the narrow, sun-tanned hand thatlay inert under the respectful but trembling salute I offered. 

"Euan Loskiel, " she murmured in the French tongue, laying her otherhand over mine and looking me deep in the eyes. "Euan Loskiel, asoldier of the United States! May God ever mount guard beside you forall your goodness to my little daughter. "

Tears filled her eyes; her pale, smooth cheeks were wet. 

"Lois is still asleep, " she said. "Come quietly with her mother and youshall see her where she sleeps. "

Cap in hand, coon-tail dragging, I entered the single room on silent, moccasined feet, set my rifle in a corner, and went over to the couchof tumbled fawn-skin and silky pelts. 

As I stood looking down at the sweetly flushed face, her mother liftedmy brier-scarred hand and pressed her lips to it; and I, hot andcrimson with happiness and embarrassment, found not a word to utter. 

"My little daughter's champion!" she murmured. "Brave, and pure ofheart! Ah, Monsieur, chivalry indeed is of no nation! It is a broadernobility which knows neither race nor creed nor ancestry nor birth. .. . How the child adores you!"

"And you, Madame. Has ever history preserved another such example ofdauntless resolution and filial piety as Lois de Contrecoeur has shownus all?"

Her mother's beautiful head lifted a little:

"The blood of France runs in her veins, Monsieur. " Then, for the firsttime, a pale smile touched her pallour. "Quand meme! No de Contrecoeurtires of endeavour while life endures. .. . Twenty-two years, Monsieur. Look upon her!. .. And for one and twenty years I have forced myself tolive in hope of this moment! Do you understand?" She made a vaguegesture and shook her head. "Nobody can understand--not even I, thoughI have lived the history of many ages. "

Still keeping my hand in hers, she stood there silent, looking down ather daughter. Then, silently, she knelt beside her on the softfawnskin, drawing me gently to my knees beside her. 

"And you are to take her from me, " she murmured. 

"Madame----"

"Hush, soldier! It must be. I give her to you in gratitude--andtears. .. . My task is ended; yours at last begins. Out of my arms youshall take her as she promised. What has been said shall be done thisday in the Vale Yndaia. .. . May God be with us all. "

"Madame--when I take her--one arm of mine must remain empty--as halfher heart would be--if neither may hold you also to the end. "

She bent her head; her grey eyes closed, and I saw the tears steal outalong the long, soft lashes. 

"Son, if you should come to love me----"

"Madame, I love you now. "

She covered her face with her slim hands; I drew it against myshoulder. A moment later Lois unclosed her eyes, looked up at us; thenrose to her knees in her white shift and put both bare arms around hermother's neck. And, kneeling so, turned her head, offering heruntouched lips to me. Thus, for the first time in our lives, we kissedeach other. 

There was milk, ash-bread, corn, and fresh laid eggs for all our partywhen Lois went to the door and called, in a clear, sweet voice:

* "Nai! Mayaro! Yon-kwa-ken-nison!"

[* "Oh, Mayaro! We are all assembled!"]

Never have I seen any Indian eat as did my four warriors--the YellowMoth cleaning his bark platter, where he sat on guard upon the logs atthe pass, the others in a circle at our threshold. 

Had we a siege to endure in this place, there was a store of plentyhere, not only in apple-pit and corn-pit, but in the good, dry cellarwith which the house was provided. 

Truly, the Senecas had kept their Prophetess well provided; and now, before the snow of a not distant winter choked this pass, the place hadbeen provisioned from the harvest against November's wants and stress. 

And it secretly amused me to note the ever latent fear born of respectwhich my Indians endeavoured not to betray when in the presence ofMadame de Contrecoeur; nor could her gentle dignity and sweetnesstoward them completely reassure them. To them a sorceress was asorceress, and must ever remain a fearsome and an awesome personage, even though it were plain that she was disposed toward them mostagreeably. 

So they replied to her cautiously, briefly, but very respectfully, norcould her graciousness to the youthful Night Hawk for his unerringarrow, nor her quiet kindness toward the others, completely reassurethem. They were not accustomed to converse, much less to take theirbreakfast, with a Sorceress of Amochol, and though this dread fact didnothing alter their appetites, it discouraged any freedom ofconversation. 

Lois and her mother and I understood this; Lois and I dared not laughor rally them; Madame de Contrecoeur, well versed, God knows, in Indianmanners and customs, calmly and pleasantly accepted the situation; andI think perhaps quietly enjoyed it. 

But neither mother nor daughter could keep their eyes from each otherfor any length of time, nor did their soft hand-clasp loosen save for amoment now and then. 

Later, Lois came to me, laid both hands over mine, looked at me amoment in silence too eloquent to misunderstand, then drew her motherwith her into the little house. And I went back on guard to join myawed red brethren. 

So the soft September day wore away with nothing untoward to alarm us, until late in the afternoon we saw smoke rising above the hills to thesouthwest. This meant that our devastating army was well on its way, and, as usual, laying waste the Indian towns and hamlets which itsflanking riflemen discovered; and we all jumped up on our breastworksto see better. 

For an hour we watched the smoke staining the pure blue sky; saw wherenew clouds of smoke were rising, always a little further northward. Atevening it rolled, glowing with sombre tints, in the red beams of thesetting sun; then dusk came and we could see the reflection on it ofgreat fires raging underneath. 

And where we were watching it came a far, dull sound which shook theground, growing louder and nearer, increasing to a rushing, thunderinggallop; and presently we heard our riflemen running through theflat-woods after the frightened herds of horses which were bred inCatharines-town for the British service, and which had now beendiscovered and frightened by our advance. 

Leaving the Mohican and the Oneidas on guard, I went out with theStockbridge, and soon came in touch with our light troops, stealingwestward through the flat-woods to surround Catharines-town. 

When I returned to our breastworks, Lois and her mother were standingthere, looking at the fiery smoke in the sky, listening to the noise ofthe unseen soldiery. But on my explaining the situation, they went backto the little house together, after bidding us all good night. 

So I set the first watch for the coming night, rolled myself in myblanket, and went to sleep with the lightest heart I had carried in mybreast for many a day. 

At dawn I was awakened by the noise of horses and cattle and theshouting of the grass-guard, where they were rounding to the half-wildstock from Catharines-town, and our own hoofed creatures which hadstrayed in the flat-woods. 

A great cloud of smoke was belching up above the trees to thenorthward; and we knew that Catharines-town was on fire, and the lastlurking enemy gone. 

Long before Lois was astir, I had made my way through our swarmingsoldiery to Catharines-town, where there was the usual orderlyconfusion of details pulling down houses or firing them, troops cuttingthe standing corn, hacking apple-trees, kindling the stacked hay intoroaring columns of flame. 

Regiment after regiment paraded along the stream, discharged itsmuskets, filling the forests with crashing echoes and frightening ourcattle into flight again; but they were firing only to clean out theirpieces, for the last of our enemies had pulled foot before sunset, andthe last howling Indian dog had whipped his tail between his legs andtrotted after them. 

Suddenly in the smoke I saw General Sullivan, mounted, and talking withBoyd; and I hastened to them and reported, standing at salute. 

"So that damned Red Sachem escaped you?" said the General, biting hislip and looking now at me, now at Boyd. 

Boyd said, glancing curiously at me:

"When we came up we found the entire Tory army here. I must admit, sir, that we were an hour late, having been blocked by the passage of twohundred Hurons and Iroquois who crossed our trail, cutting us from thenorth. "

"What became of them?"

"They joined Butler, Brant, and Hiokatoo at this place, General. "

Then the General asked for my report; and I gave it as exactly as Icould, the General listening most attentively to my narrative, and Boyddeeply and sombrely interested. 

When I ended he said:

"We have taken also a half-breed, one Madame Sacho. You say that Madamede Contrecoeur is at the Vale Yndaia with her daughter?"

"Guarded by my Indians, General. "

"Very well, sir. Today we send back ten wagons, our wounded, and fourguns of the heavier artillery, all under proper escort. You will notifyMadame de Contrecoeur that there will be a wagon for her and herdaughter. "

"Yes, General. "

He gathered his bridle, leaned from his saddle, and looked coldly atBoyd and me. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "I shall expect you to take Amochol, dead oralive, before this command marches into the Chinisee Castle. How youare to accomplish this business is your own affair. I leave you fullliberty, except, " turning to Boyd, "you, sir, are not to encumberyourself again with any such force as you now have with you. Twenty menare too many for a swift and secret affair. Four is the limit--and fourof Mr. Loskiel's Indians. "

He sat still, gnawing at his lip for a moment, then:

"I am sorry that, through no fault apparently of your own, thisSorcerer, Amochol, escaped. But, gentlemen, the service recognizes onlysuccess. I am always ready to listen to how nearly you failed, when youhave succeeded; I have no interest in hearing how nearly you succeededwhen you have failed. That is all, gentlemen. "

We stood at salute while he wheeled, and, followed by his considerablestaff, walked his fine horse away toward the train of artillery whichstood near by, the gun-teams harnessed and saddled, the guns limberedup, drivers and cannoneers in their saddles and seats. 

"Well, " said Boyd heavily, "shall we be about this matter of Amochol?"

"Yes. .. . Will you aid me in placing Madame de Contrecoeur and herdaughter in the wagon assigned them?"

He nodded, and together we started back toward the Vale Yndaia insilence. 

After a long while he looked up at me and said:

"I know her now. "

"What?"

"I recognize your pretty Lois de Contrecoeur. For weeks I have beentroubled, thinking of her and how I should have known her face. Andlast night, lying north of Catharines-town, it came to me suddenly. "

I was silent. 

"She is the ragged maid of the Westchester hills, " he said. 

"She is the noblest maid that ever breathed in North America, " I said. 

"Yes, Loskiel. .. . And, that being true, you are the fittest match forher the world could offer. "

I looked up, surprised, and flushed; and saw how colourless and wastedhis face had grown, and how in his eyes all light seemed quenched. Never have I gazed upon so hopeless and haunted a visage as he turnedto me. 

"I walk the forests like a damned man, " he said, "already conscious ofthe first hot breath of hell. .. . Well--I had my chance, Loskiel. "

"You have it still. "

But he said no more, walking beside me with downcast countenance andbrooding eyes fixed on our long shadows that led us slowly west. 

CHAPTER XXI

CHINISEE CASTLE

For twelve days our army, marching west by north, tore its terrible waystraight through the smoking vitals of the Iroquois Empire, leavingbehind it nearly forty towns and villages and more than two hundredcabins on fire; thousands and thousands of bushels of grain burning, thousands of apple, peach, pear, and plum trees destroyed, thousands ofacres of pumpkins, beans, peas, corn, potatoes, beets, turnips, carrots, watermelons, muskmelons, strawberry, black-berry, raspberryshrubs crushed and rotting in the trampled gardens under the hotSeptember sun. 

In the Susquehanna and Chinisee Valleys, not a roof survived unburnt, not a fruit tree or an ear of corn remained standing, not a domesticanimal, not a fowl, was left. And, save for the aged squaw we left atChiquaha in a new hut of bark, with provisions sufficient for herneeds, not one living soul now inhabited the charred ruins of the LongHouse behind us, except our fierce soldiery. And they, trampingdoggedly forward, voluntarily and cheerfully placing themselves on halfrations, were now terribly resolved to make an end for all time of thesecret and fruitful Empire which had nourished so long the mercilessmarauders, red and white, who had made of our frontiers but one vastslaughter-house and bloody desolation. 

Town after town fell in ashes as our torches flared; Kendaia, Kanadesaga, Gothsunquin, Skoi-yase, Kanandaigua, Haniai, Kanasa; acreafter acre was annihilated. So vast was one field of corn that it tooktwo thousand men more than six hours to destroy it. And the end was notyet, nor our stern business with our enemies ended. 

As always on the march, the division of light troops led; the advancewas piloted by my guides, reinforced by Boyd with four riflemen ofMorgan's--Tim Murphy, David Elerson, and Garrett Putnam, privates, andMichael Parker, sergeant. 

Close behind us, and pretty well ahead of the rifle battalion, underMajor Parr, and the pioneers, followed Mr. Lodge, the surveyor, and hisparty--Thomas Grant with the Jacob-staff, four chain-carriers, andCorporal Calhawn. Usually we remained in touch with them while they rantheir lines through the wilderness, but sometimes we were stealingforward, far ahead and in touch with the retreating Tory army, patiently and persistently contriving plans to get at Amochol. But thepainted hordes of Senecas enveloped the Sorcerer and his acolytes aswith a living blanket; and, prowling outside their picket fires atnight, not one ridged-crest did we see during those twelve days ofswift pursuit. 

Boyd, during the last few days, had become very silent and morose; andhis men and my Indians believed that he was brooding over his failureto take the Red Priest at Catharines-town. But my own heavy heart toldme a different story; and the burden of depression which this youngofficer bore so silently seemed to weight me also with vague andsinister apprehensions. 

I remember, just before sunset, that our small scout of ten were haltedby a burnt log bridge over a sluggish inlet to a lake. The miry trailto the Chinisee Castle led over it, swung westward along the lake, rising to a steep bluff which was gashed with a number of deep androcky ravines. 

It was plain that the retreating Tory army had passed over this bridge, and that their rearguard had set it afire. 

I said to Boyd, pointing across the southern end of the lake:

"From what I have read of Braddock's Field, yonder terrain mostastonishingly resembles it. What an ambuscade could Butler lay for ourarmy yonder, within shot of this crossing!"

"Pray God he lays it, " said Boyd between his teeth. 

"Yet, we could get at him better beyond those rocky gashes, " Imuttered, using my spyglass. 

"Butler is there, " said the Mohican, calmly. 

Both Boyd and I searched the wooded bluffs in vain for any sign oflife, but the Sagamore and the other Indians quietly maintained theiropinion, because, they explained, though patches of wild rice grewalong the shore, the wild ducks and geese had left their feeding covesand were lying half a mile out in open water. Also, the blue-jays hadset up a screaming in the yellowing woods along the western shore, andthe tall, blue herons had left their shoreward sentry posts, and nowmounted guard far to the northward among the reeds, where solitaryblack ducks dropped in at intervals, quacking loudly. 

Boyd nodded; the Oneidas drew their hatchets and blazed the trees; andwe all sat down in the woods to await the coming of our advanced guard. 

After a little while, our pioneers appeared, rifles slung, axesglittering on their shoulders, and immediately began to fell trees andrebuild the log bridge. Hard on their heels came my rifle battalion;and in the red sunshine we watched the setting of the string ofoutposts. 

Far back along the trail behind us we could hear the halted army makingcamp; flurries of cheery music from the light infantry bugle-horns, thedistant rolling of drums, the rangers penetrating whistle, lashes ofwagoners cracking, the melancholy bellow of the beef herd. 

Major Parr came and talked with us for a few minutes, and went awayconvinced that Butler's people lay watching us across the creek. EnsignChambers came a-mincing through the woods, a-whisking the snuff fromhis nose with the only laced hanker in the army; and:

"Dear me!" says he. "Do you really think we shall have a battle, Loskiel? How very interesting and enjoyable it will be. "

"Who drilled your pretty hide, Benjamin?" said I bluntly, noting thathe wore his left arm in a splint. 

"Lord!" says he. "'Twas a scratch from a half-ounce ball at theChemung. Dear, dear, how very disappointing was that affair, Loskiel!Most annoying of them not to stand our charge!" And, "Dear, dear, dear, " he murmured, mincing off again with all the air of a Wall Streetbeau ogling the pretty dames on Hanover Square. 

"Where is this damned Castle?" growled Boyd. "Chinisee, Chenussio, Genesee--whatever it is called? The name keeps buzzing in my head--nay, for the last three days I have dreamed of it and awakened to hear itsounding in my ears, as though beside me some one stooped and whisperedit. "

I pulled out our small map, which we had long since learned todistrust, yet even our General had no better one. 

Here was marked the Chinisee Castle, near the confluence of CanaseragaCreek and the Chinisee River; and I showed the place to Boyd, wholooked at it curiously. 

Mayaro, however, shook his crested head:

"No, Loskiel, " he said. "The Chinisee Castle stands now on the westernshore. The Great Town should stand here!"--placing his finger on anempty spot on the map. "And here, two miles above, is another town. "

"And you had better tell that to the General when he comes, " remarkedBoyd. And to me he said: "If we are to take Amochol at all, it will bethis night or at dawn at the Chinisee Castle. "

"I am also of that opinion, " said I. 

"I shall want twenty riflemen, " he said. 

"If it can not be done with four, and my Indians, we need not attemptit. "

"Why?" he asked sullenly. 

"The General has so ordered. "

"Yes, but if I am to catch Amochol I must do it in my own way. I knowhow to do it. And if I risk taking my twenty riflemen, and amsuccessful, the General will not care how it was accomplished. "

I said nothing, because Boyd ranked me, but what he proposed made mevery uneasy. More than once he had interpreted orders after his ownfashion, and, being always successful in his enterprises, nothing wassaid to him in reproof. 

My Indians had made a fire, I desiring to let the enemy suppose that wesuspected nothing of his ambuscade so close at hand; and around this welay, munching our meagre meal of green corn roasted on the coals, andripe apples to finish. 

As we ended, the sun set behind the western bluffs, and our evening gunboomed good-night in the forest south of us. And presently came, picking their way through the trail-mire, our General, handsomelyhorsed as usual, attended by Major Adam Hoops, of his staff, andseveral others. 

We instantly waited on him and told him what we knew and suspected; andI showed him my map and warned him of the discrepancy between itsmarked places and the report of the Mohican Sagamore. 

"Damnation!" he said. "Every map I have had lies in detail, misleadingand delaying me when every hour empties our wagons of provisions. Wereit not for your Indians, Mr. Loskiel, and that Sagamore in particular, we had missed half the game as it lies. "

He sat his saddle in silence for a while, looking at the unfinished logbridge and up at the bluffs opposite. 

"I feel confident that Butler is there, " he said bluntly. "But what Iwish to know is where this accursed Chinisee Castle stands. Boyd, takefour men, move rapidly just before midnight, find out where this castlestands, and report to me at sunrise. "

Boyd saluted, hesitated, then asked permission to speak. And when theGeneral accorded it, he explained his plan to take Amochol at theChinisee Castle, and that this matter would neither delay nor interferewith a prompt execution of his present orders. 

"Very well, " nodded the General, "but take no more than four men, andMr. Loskiel and his Indians with you; and report to me at sunrise. "

I heard him say this; Major Hoops heard him also. So I supposed thatBoyd would obey these orders to the letter. 

When the mounted party had moved away, Boyd and I went back to the fireand lay down on our blankets. We were on the edge of the trees; it wasstill daylight; the pioneers were still at work; and my Indians werefreshening their paint, rebraiding their scalp-locks, and shining uphatchet, rifle, and knife. 

"Look at those bloodhounds, " muttered Boyd. "They did not hear what wewere talking about, but they know by premonition. "

"I do not have any faith in premonitions, " said I. 

"Why?"

"I have dreamed I was scalped, and my hair still grows. "

"You are not out of the woods yet, " he said, sombrely. 

"That does not worry me. "

"Nor me. Yet, I do believe in premonition. "

"That is old wives' babble. "

"Maybe, Loskiel. Yet, I know I shall not leave this wilderness alive. "

"Lord!" said I, attempting to jest. "You should set up as a rival toAmochol and tell us all our fortunes. "

He smiled--and the effort distorted his pale, handsome face. 

"I think it will happen at Chinisee, " he said quietly. 

"What will happen?"

"The end of the world for me, Loskiel. "

"It is not like you, Boyd, to speak in such a manner. Only lately haveI ever heard from you a single note of such foreboding. "

"Only lately have I been dowered with the ominous clairvoyance. I amchanged, Loskiel. "

"Not in courage. "

"No, " he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders that set ruffles andthrums a-dancing on his rifle-dress. 

We were silent for a while, watching the Indians at their polishing. Then he said in a low but pleasant voice:

"How proud and happy must you be with your affianced. What a splendourof happiness lies before you both! An unblemished past, an innocentpassion, a future stretching out unstained before you--what more canGod bestow on man and maid?. .. May bright angels guard you both, Loskiel. "

I made to thank him for the wish, but suddenly found I could notcontrol my voice, so lay there in silence and with throat contracted, looking at this man whose marred young life lay all behind him, andwhose future, even to me, lowered strangely and ominously veiled. 

And as we lay there, into our fire-circle came a dusty, mud-splashed, and naked runner, plucking from his light skin-pouch two letters, onefor Boyd and one for me. 

I read mine by the flickering fire; it was dated from Tioga Point:

"Euan Loskiel, my honoured and affianced husband, and my lover, worshipped and adored, I send you by this runner my dearest affections, my duties, and my most sacred sentiments. 

"You must know that this day we have arrived at the Fort at Tioga Pointwithout any accident or mischance of any description, and, indeed, notencountering one living creature between Catharines-town and this post. 

"My beloved mother desires her particular and tender remembrances to beconveyed to you, her honoured son-in-law to be, and further commandsthat I express to you, as befittingly as I know how, her deep andever-living gratitude and thanks for your past conduct in regard to me, and your present and noble-minded generosity concerning thedispositions you have made for us to remain under the amiableprotection of Mr. Hake in Albany. 

"Dear lad, what can I say for myself? You are so glorious, sowonderful--and in you it does seem that all the virtues, graces, andaccomplishments are so perfectly embodied, that at moments, thinking ofyou, I become afraid, wondering what it is in me that you can accept inexchange for the so perfect love you give me. 

"I fear that you may smile on perusing this epistle, deeming it, perhaps, a trifle flowery in expression--but, Euan, I am so tornbetween the wild passion I entertain for you, and a desire to addressyou modestly and politely in terms of correspondence, as taught in thebest schools, that I know not entirely how to conduct. I would not haveyou think me cold, or too stiffly laced in the formalities of politeusage, so that you might not divine my heart a-beating under the dressthat covers me, be it rifle-frock or silken caushet. I would not haveyou consider me over-bold, light-minded, or insensible to the deep andsacred tie that already binds me to you evermore--which even, I think, the other and tender tie which priest and church shall one day impose, could not make more perfect or more secure. 

"So I must strive to please you by writing with elegance befitting, yetpermitting you to perceive the ardent heart of her who thinks of youthrough every blessed moment of the day. 

"I pray, as my dear mother prays, that God, all armoured, and with Hisbright sword drawn, stand sentinel on your right hand throughout thedangers and the trials of this most just and bloody war. For yourreturn I pray and wait. 

"Your humble and dutiful and obedient and adoring wife to be, "Lois de Contrecoeur. 

"Post scriptum: The memory of our kiss fades not from my lips. I willbe content when circumstances permit us the liberty to repeat it. "

When I had read the letter again and again, I folded it and laid it inthe bosom of my rifle-shirt. Boyd still brooded over his letter, thered firelight bathing his face to the temples. 

After a long while he raised his eyes, saw me looking at him, stared atme for a moment, then quietly extended the letter toward me. 

"You wish me to read it?" I asked. 

"Yes, read it, Loskiel, before I burn it, " he said drearily. "I do notdesire to have it discovered on my body after death. "

I took the single sheet of paper and read:

 "Lieutenant Thomas Boyd, "Rifle Corps, "Sir:

 "For the last time, I venture to importune you in behalf of one for whose present despair you are entirely responsible. Pitying her unhappy condition, I have taken her as companion to me since we are arrived at Easton, and shall do what lies within my power to make her young life as endurable as may be. 

 "You, sir, on your return from the present campaign, have it in your power to make the only reparation possible. I trust that your heart and your sense of honour will so incline you. 

 "As for me, Mr. Boyd, I make no complaint, desire no sympathy, expect none. What I did was my fault alone. Knowing that I was falling in love with you, and at the same time aware what kind of man you had been and must still be, I permitted myself to drift into deeper waters, too weak of will to make an end, too miserable to put myself beyond the persuasion of your voice and manner. And perhaps I might never have found courage to give you up entirely had I not been startled into comprehension by what I learned concerning the poor child in whose behalf I now am writing. 

 "That instantly sobered me, ending any slightest spark of hope that I might have in my secret heart still guarded. For, with my new and terrible knowledge, I understood that I must pass instantly and completely out of your life; and you out of mine. Only your duty remained--not to me, but to this other and more unhappy one. And that path I pray that you will follow when a convenient opportunity arises. 

 "I am, sir y' ob't, etc. , etc. 

 "Magdalene Helmer. 

 "P. S. If you love me, Tom, do your full duty in the name of God!

 "Lana. "

I handed the letter back to him in silence. He stared at it, not seeingthe written lines, I think, save as a blurr; and after a long while heleaned forward and laid it on the coals. 

"If I am not already foredoomed, " he said to me, "what Lana bids me dothat I shall do. It is best, is it not, Loskiel?"

"A clergyman is fitter to reply to you than I. "

"Do you not think it best that I marry Dolly Glenn?"

"God knows. It is all too melancholy and too terrible for me tocomprehend the right and wrong of it, or how a penitence is best made. Yet, as you ask me, it seems to me that what she will one day becomeshould claim your duty and your future. The weakest ever has thestrongest claim. "

"Yes, it-is true. I stand tonight so fettered to an unborn soul thatnothing can unloose me. .. . I wish that I might live. "

"You will live! You must live!"

"Aye, 'must' and 'will' are twins of different complexions, Loskiel. .. . Yet, if I live, I shall live decently and honestly hereafter in thesight of God and--Lana Helmer. "

We said nothing more. About ten o'clock Boyd rose and went away allalone. Half an hour later he came back, followed by some score and moreof men, a dozen of our own battalion, half a dozen musket-men of the4th Pennsylvania Regiment, three others, two Indians, Hanierri, theheadquarters Oneida guide, and Yoiakim, a Stockbridge. 

"Volunteers, " he said, looking sideways at me. "I know how to takeAmochol; but I must take him in my own manner. "

I ventured to remind him of the General's instructions that we find theChinisee Castle and report at sunrise. 

"Damn it, I know it, " he retorted impatiently, "but I have my ownplans; and the General will bear me out when I fling Amochol's scalp athis feet. "

The Grey-Feather drew me aside and said in a low, earnest voice:

"We are too many to surprise Amochol. Before Wyoming, with only threeothers I went to Thenondiago, the Castle of the Three Clans--The Bear, The Wolf, and The Turtle--and there we took and slew Skull-Face, brother of Amochol, and wounded Telenemut, the husband of CatrineMontour. By Waiandaia we stretched the scalp of Skull-Face; atThaowethon we painted it with Huron and Seneca tear-drops; at Yaowaniawe peeled three trees and wrote on each the story so that the ThreeClans might read and howl their anguish. Thus should it be done tonightif we are to deal with Amochol!"

Once more I ventured to protest to Boyd. 

"Leave it to me, Loskiel, " he said pleasantly. And I could say no more. 

At eleven our party of twenty-nine set out, Hanierri, the Oneida, fromheadquarters, guiding us; and I could not understand why Boyd hadchosen him, for I was certain he knew less about this region than didMayaro, However, when I spoke to Boyd, he replied that the General hadso ordered, and that Hanierri had full instructions concerning theroute from the commander himself. 

As General Sullivan was often misinformed by his maps and his scouts, Iwas nothing reassured by Boyd's reply, and marched with my Indians, feeling in my heart afraid. And, without vaunting myself, nor meaningto claim any general immunity from fear, I can truly say that for thefirst time in my life I set forth upon an expedition with the mostmelancholy forebodings possible to a man of ordinary courage andself-respect. 

We followed the hard-travelled war-trail in single file; and Hanierridid not lose his way, but instead of taking, as he should have done, the unused path which led to the Chinisee Castle, he passed it andcontinued on. 

I protested most earnestly to Boyd; the Sagamore corroborated myopinion when summoned. But Hanierri remained obstinate, declaring thathe had positive information that the Chinisee Castle lay in thedirection we were taking. 

Boyd seemed strangely indifferent and dull, making apparently no effortto sift the matter further. So strange and apathetic had his mannerbecome, so unlike himself was he, that I could make nothing of him, andstood in uneasy wonderment while the Mohican and the Oneida, Hanierri, were gravely disputing. 

"Come, " he said, in his husky and altered voice, "let us have done withthis difference in opinion. Let the Oneida guide us--as we cannot havetwo guides' opinions. March!"

In the darkness we crept past Butler's right flank, silently andundiscovered; nor could we discover any sign of the enemy, though nownot one among us doubted that he lay hidden along the bluffs, waitingfor our army to move at sunrise into the deadly trap that the nature ofthe place had so perfectly provided. 

All night long we moved on the hard and trodden trail; and toward dawnwe reached a town. Reconnoitering the place, we found it utterlyabandoned. If the Chinisee Castle lay beyond it, we could notdetermine, but Hanierri insisted that it was there. So Boyd sent backfour men to Sullivan to report on what we had done; and we lay in thewoods on the outskirts of the village, to wait for daylight. 

When dawn whitened the east, it became plain to us all that we hadtaken the wrong direction. The Chinisee Castle was not here. Nothinglay before us but a deserted village. 

I knew not what to make of Boyd, for the discovery of our mistakeseemed to produce no impression on him. He stood at the edge of thewoods, gazing vacantly across the little clearing where the Indianhouses straggled on either side of the trail. 

"We have made a bad mistake, " I said in a low voice. 

"Yes, a bad one, " he said listlessly. 

"Shall we not start on our return?" I asked. 

"There is no hurry. "

"I beg your pardon, but I have to remind you that you are to report atsunrise. "

"Aye--if that were possible, Loskiel. "

"Possible!" I repeated, blankly. "Why not?"

"Because, " he said in a dull voice, "I shall never see another sunrisesave this one that is coming presently. Let me have my fill of itunvexed by Generals and orders. "

"You are not well, Boyd, " I said, troubled. 

"As well as I shall ever be--but not as ill, Loskiel. "

At that moment the Sagamore laid his hand on my shoulder and pointed. Isaw nothing for a moment; then Boyd and Murphy sprang forward, riflesin hand, and Mayaro after them, and I after them, running into thevillage at top speed. For I had caught a glimpse of a most unusualsight; four Iroquois Indians on horseback, riding into the northernedge of the town. Never before, save on two or three occasions, had Iever seen an Iroquois mounted on a horse. 

We ran hard to get a shot at them, and beyond the second house came infull view of our enemies. Murphy fired immediately, knocking theleading Indian from his horse; I fired, breaking the arm of the nextrider; both my Indians fired and missed; and the Iroquois were off atfull speed. Boyd had not fired. 

We ran to where the dead man was lying, and the Mohican recognized himas an Erie named Sanadaya. Murphy coolly took his scalp, with animpudent wink at the Sagamore and a grin at Boyd and me. 

In the meanwhile, our riflemen and Indians had rushed the town and werebusy tearing open the doors of the houses and setting fire to them. Invain I urged Boyd to start back, pointing out that this was no placefor us to linger in, and that our army would burn this village in duetime. 

But he merely shrugged his shoulders and loitered about, watching hismen at their destruction; and I stood by, a witness to his strange andinexplicable delay, a prey to the most poignant anxiety because theentire Tory army lay between us and our own army, and this smoke signalmust draw upon us a very swarm of savages to our inevitable destruction. 

At last Boyd sounded the recall on his ranger's whistle, and ordered meto take my Indians and reconnoiter our back trail. And no sooner had Ientered the woods than I saw an Indian standing about a hundred yardsto the right of the trail, and looking up at the smoke which wasblowing southward through the tree-tops. 

His scarlet cloak was thrown back; he was a magnificent warrior, in hisbrilliant paint, matching the flaming autumn leaves in colour. MyIndians had not noticed him where he stood against a crimson and yellowmaple bush. I laid my rifle level and fired. He staggered, stood amoment, turning his crested head with a bewildered air, then swayed, sank at the knee joints, dropped to them, and very slowly laid hisstately length upon the moss, extending himself like one who preparedfor slumber. 

We ran up to where he lay with his eyes closed; he was still breathing. A great pity for him seized me; and I seated myself on the moss besidehim, staring into his pallid face. 

And as I sat beside him while he was dying, he opened his eyes, andlooked at me. And I knew that he knew I had killed him. After a fewmoments he died. 

"Amochol!" I said under my breath. "God alone knows why I am sorry forthis dead priest. " And as I rose and stared about me, I caught sight oftwo pointed ears behind a bush; then two more pricked up sharply; thenthe head of a wolf popped up over a fallen log. But as I began toreload my rifle, there came a great scurrying and scattering in thethickets, and I heard the Andastes running off, leaving their deadmaster to me and to my people, who were now arriving. 

I do not know who took his scalp; but it was taken by some Indian orRanger who came crowding around to look down upon this painted dead manin his scarlet cloak. 

"Amochol is dead, " I said to Boyd. 

He looked at me with lack-lustre eyes, nodding. We marched on along thetrail by which we had arrived. 

For five miles we proceeded in silence, my Indians flanking the file ofriflemen. Then Boyd gave the signal to halt, and sent forward theSagamore, the Grey-Feather, and Tahoontowhee to inform the General thatwe would await the army in this place. 

The Indians, so coolly taken from my command, had gone ere I came upfrom the rear to find what Boyd had done. 

"Are you mad?" I exclaimed, losing my temper, "Do you propose to halthere at the very mouth of the hornet's nest?"

He did not rebuke me for such gross lack of discipline and respect--infact, he seemed scarcely to heed at all what I said, but seated himselfat the foot of a pine tree and lit his pipe. As I stood biting my lipand looking around at the woods encircling us, he beckoned two of hismen, gave them some orders in a low voice, crossed one leg over theother, and continued to smoke the carved and painted Oneida pipe hecarried in his shot-pouch. 

I saw the two riflemen shoulder their long weapons and go forward inobedience to his orders; and when again I approached him he said:

"They will make plain to Sullivan what your Indians may garble inrepeating--that I mean to await the army in this place and save myparty these useless miles of travelling. Do you object?"

"Our men are not tired, " I said, astonished, "and our advanced guardcan not be very far away. Do you not think it more prudent for us tocontinue the movement toward our own people?"

"Very well--if you like, " he said indifferently. 

After a few minutes' inaction, he rose, sounded his whistle; the mengot to their feet, fell in, and started, rifles a-trail. But we hadproceeded scarcely a dozen rods into the big timber when we discoveredour two riflemen, who had so recently left us, running back toward usand looking over their shoulders as they ran. When they saw us, theyhalted and shouted for us to hasten, as there were several SenecaIndians standing beside the trail ahead. 

In a flash of intuition it came to me that here was a cleared runway tosome trap. 

"Don't leave the trail!" I said to Boyd. "Don't be drawn out of it now. For God's sake hold your men and don't give chase to those Indians. "

"Press on!" said Boyd curtly; and our little column trotted forward. 

Something crashed in a near thicket and went off like a deer. The men, greatly excited, strove to catch a glimpse of the running creature, butthe bush was too dense. 

Suddenly a rifleman, who was leading our rapid advance, caught sight ofthe same Senecas who had alarmed him and his companion; and he startedtoward them with a savage shout, followed by a dozen others. 

Hanierri turned to Boyd and begged him earnestly not to permit anypursuit. But Boyd pushed him aside impatiently, and blew theview-halloo on his ranger's whistle; and in a moment we all werescattering in full pursuit of five lithe and agile Senecas, all in fullwar-paint, who appeared to be in a panic, for they ran through thethickets like terrified sheep, huddling and crowding on one another'sheels. 

"Boyd!" I panted, catching up with him. "This whole business looks likea trap to me. Whistle your men back to the trail, for I am certain thatthese Senecas are drawing us toward their main body. "

"We'll catch one of them first, " he said; and shouted to Murphy to fireand cripple the nearest. But the flying Senecas had now vanished into aheavily-wooded gully, and there was nothing for Murphy to fire at. 

I swung in my tracks, confronting Boyd. 

"Will you halt your people before it is too late?" I demanded. "Whereare your proper senses? You behave like a man who has lost his mentalbalance!"

He gave me a dazed look, where he had been within his rights had he cutme down with his hatchet. 

"What did you say?" he stammered, passing his hand over his eyes asthough something had obscured his sight. 

"I asked you to sound the recall. Those Indians we chase are leading uswhither they will. What in God's name ails you, Boyd? Have you neverbefore seen an ambush?"

He stood motionless, as though stupefied, staring straight ahead ofhim. Then he said, hesitatingly, that he desired Tim Murphy to crippleone of the Senecas and fetch him in so that we might interrogate him. 

Such infant's babble astounded and sickened me, and I was about toretort when a shout from one of our men drew our attention to the gullybelow. And there were our terrified Indians peering out cunningly at uslike so many foxes playing tag with an unbroken puppy pack. 

"Come, sir, " said I in deepest anxiety, "the game is too plain foranybody but a fool to follow. Sound your recall!"

He set his whistle to his lips, and as I stood there, thunderstruck andhelpless, the shrill call rang out: "Forward! Hark-away!"

Instantly our entire party leaped forward; the Indians vanished; and weran on headlong, pell-mell, hellward into the trap prepared for ourdestruction. 

The explosion of a heavy rifle on our right was what first halted us, Ithink. One of the soldiers from the 4th Pennsylvania was down in thedead leaves kicking and scuffling about all over blood. Before he hadrolled over twice, a ragged but loud volley on our left went throughour disordered files, knocking over two more soldiers. The screaming ofone poor fellow seemed to bring Boyd to his senses. He blew the recall, and our men fell back, and, carrying the dead and wounded, began toascend the wooded knoll down which we had been running when so abruptlychecked. 

There was no more firing for the moment; we reached the top of theknoll, laid our dead and wounded behind trees, loaded, freshened ourpriming, and stood awaiting orders. 

Then, all around us, completely encircling the foot of our knoll, woods, thickets, scattered bushes, seemed to be literally moving in thevague forest light. 

"My God!" exclaimed Elerson to Murphy. "The woods are crawling withsavages!"

A dreadful and utter silence fell among us; Boyd, pale as a corpse, motioned his men to take posts, forming a small circle with our deadand wounded in the centre. 

I saw Hanierri, the Oneida guide, fling aside his blanket, strip hispainted body to the beaded clout, draw himself up to his full andsuperb height, muttering, his eyes fixed on the hundreds of dark shapesstealing quietly among the thickets below our little hill. 

The two Stockbridge Indians, the Yellow Moth and Yoiakim, pressedlightly against me on either side, like two great, noble dogs, afraid, yet trusting their master, and still dauntless in the threatening faceof duty. 

Through the terrible stillness which had fallen upon us all, I couldhear the Oneida guide muttering his death-song; and presently my twoChristian Indians commenced in low voices to recite the prayers for thedying. 

The next moment, Murphy and Elerson began to fire, slowly anddeliberately; and for a little while these two deadly and unerringrifles were the only pieces that spoke from our knoll. Then my distanttarget showed for a moment; I fired, reloaded, waited; fired again; andour little circle of doomed men began to cheer as a brilliantly paintedwarrior sprang from the thicket below, shouted defiance, and crumpledup as though smitten by lightning when Murphy's rifle roared out itsfatal retort. 

Then, for almost every soul that stood there, the end of the worldbegan; for a thousand men swarmed out of the thickets below, completelysurrounding us; and like a hurricane shrilling through naked woodsswept the death-halloo of five hundred Iroquois in their naked paint. 

On every side the knoll was black with them as they came leapingforward, hatchets glittering; while over their heads the leaden hail ofTory musketry pelted us from north and south and east and west. 

Down crashed Yoiakim at my side, his rifle exploding in mid-air as hefell dead and rolled over and over down the slope toward the masses ofhis enemies below. 

As a Seneca seized the rolling body, set his foot on the dead shouldersand jerked back the head to scalp him, the Yellow Moth leaped forward, launching his hatchet. It flew, sparkling, and struck the scalper fullin the face. The next instant the Yellow Moth was among them, snarling, stabbing, raging, almost covered by Senecas who were wounding oneanother in their eagerness to slay him. 

For a moment it seemed to me that there was a chance in this melee forus to cut our way through, and I caught Boyd by the arm and pointed. Avolley into our very backs staggered and almost stupefied us; throughthe swirling powder gloom, our men began to fall dead all around me. Isaw Sergeant Hungerman drop; privates Harvey, Conrey, Jim McElroy, JackMiller, Benny Curtin and poor Jack Putnam. 

Murphy, clubbing his rifle, was bawling to his comrade, Elerson:

"To hell wid this, Davey! Av we don't pull foot we're a pair o' deadducks!"

"For God's sake, Boyd!" I shouted. "Break through there beside theYellow Moth!"

Boyd, wielding his clubbed rifle, cleared a circle amid the crowdingsavages; Sergeant Parker ran out into the yelling crush; the twogigantic riflemen, Murphy and Elerson, swinging their terrible weaponslike flails, smashed their way forward; behind them, using knife, hatchet, and stock, I led out the last men living on that knoll--NedMcDonald, Garrett Putnam, Jack Youse, and a French coureur-de-boiswhose name I have never learned. 

All around us raged and yelled the maddened Seneca pack, slashing eachother again and again in their crazed attempts to reach us. The YellowMoth was stabbed through and through a hundred times, yet the ghastlycorpse still kept its feet, so terrible was the crushing pressure onevery side. 

Suddenly, tearing a path through the frenzied mob, I saw a mob ofcursing, sweating, green-coated soldiers and rangers, struggling towardus--saw one of Butler's rangers seize Sergeant Parker by the collar ofhis hunting shirt, bawling out:

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Prisoner taken from Morgan's corps!"

Another, an officer of British regulars, I think, threw himself onBoyd, shouting:

"By heaven! It's Boyd of Derry! Are you not Tom Boyd, of Derry, Pennsylvania?"

"Yes, you bloody-backed Tory!" retorted Boyd, struggling to knife himunder his gorget. "And I'm Boyd of Morgan's, too!"

I aimed a blow at the red-coated officer, but my rifle stock broke offacross the skull of an Indian; and I began to beat a path toward Boydwith the steel barrel of my weapon, Murphy and Elerson raging forwardbeside me in such a very whirlwind of half-crazed fury that the Indiansgave way and leaped aside, trying to shoot at us. 

Headlong through this momentary opening rushed Garrett Putnam, hisrifle-dress torn from his naked body, his heavy knife dripping in thehuge fist that clutched it. After him leaped Ned McDonald, thecoureur-de-bois, and Jack Youse, letting drive right and left withtheir hatchets. And, as the painted crowd ahead recoiled and shrankaside, Murphy, Elerson, and I went through, smashing out the way withour heavy weapons. 

How we got through God only knows. I heard Murphy bellowing to Elerson:

"We're out! We're out! Pull foot, Davey, or the dirty Scutts will takeyour hair!"

A Pennsylvania soldier, running heavily down hill ahead of me, wasshot, sprang high into the air in one agonized bound, like a strickenhare, and fell forward under my very feet, so that I leaped over him asI ran. The Canadian coureur-de-bois was hit, but the bullet stung himto a speed incredible, and he flew on, screaming with pain, his brokenarm flapping. 

Behind me I dared not look, but I knew the Seneca warriors were afterus at full speed. Bullets whined and whizzed beside us, striking thetrees on every side. A long slope of open woods now slanted away belowus. 

As I ran, far ahead of me, among the trees, I saw men moving, yet darednot change my course. Then, as I drew nearer, I recognized Mr. Lodge, our surveyor, and Thomas Grant with the Jacob-staff, the fourchain-bearers with the chain, and Corporal Calhawn, all standing stockstill and gazing up the slope toward us. 

The next moment Grant dropped his Jacob-staff, turned and ran; thechain-men flung away their implements, and Mr. Lodge and the entireparty, being totally unarmed, turned and fled, we on their heels, andbehind us a score of yelling Senecas, now driven to frenzy by the sightof so much terrified game in flight. 

I saw poor Calhawn fall; I saw Grant run into the swamp below, shoutingfor help. Mr. Lodge, closely chased by a young warrior, ran toward adistant sentinel, and so eager was the Seneca to slay him that hechased the fleeing surveyor past the sentinel, and was shot in the backby the amazed soldier. 

And now, all along the edge of the morass where our pickets wereposted, the bang! bang! bang! of musketry began. Murphy and Elersonbounded into safety; Ned McDonald, Garrett Putnam, the coureur-de-bais, and Jack Youse went staggering and reeling into the swamp. I attemptedto follow them, but three Senecas cut me out, and, with bursting heart, I sheered off and ran parallel with them, striving to reach our lines, the sentinels firing at my pursuers and running forward to interceptthem. Yet, so intent were these Seneca bloodhounds on my destructionthat they never swerved under the running fire of musketry; and I wasforced out and driven into the woods again to the northwest of ourlines. 

Farther and farther away sounded the musketry in my ears, until thepounding pulses deadened and finally obliterated the sound. I could nolonger carry the shattered and bloody fragment of my rifle, and droppedit. Bullet-pouch, shot-pouch, powder-horn, water-bottle, hatchet I letfall, keeping only my knife, belt, and the thin, flat wallet whichcontained my letters from Lois and my journal. Even my cap I flungaway, moving always forward on a dog-trot, and ever twisting mysweat-drenched head to look behind. 

Several times I caught distant glimpses of my pursuers, and saw thatthey walked sometimes, as though exhausted. Yet, I dared not bear tothe South, not knowing how many of them had continued on westward tocut me off from a return; so I jogged on northward, my heart nighbroken with misery and foreboding, sickened to the very soul with thememory of our slaughtered men upon the knoll. For of some thirty-oddriflemen, Indians, line soldiers, and scouts that Boyd had led out thenight before, only Elerson, Murphy, McDonald, Youse, thecoureur-de-bois, and I remained alive or untaken. Boyd was a prisoner, together with Sergeant Parker; all the others were dead to a man, excepting possibly my three Indians, Mayaro, Grey-Feather, andTahoontowhee, who Boyd had sent in to report us before we had sightedthe Senecas, and who might possibly have escaped the ambuscade. 

As I plodded on, I dared not let my imagination dwell on Boyd andParker, for a dreadful instinct told me that the dead men on the knollwere better off. Yet, I tried to remember that a red-coated officer hadtaken Boyd, and one of Sir John's soldiers had captured Michael Parker. But I could find no comfort, no hope in this thought, because WalterButler was there, and Hiokatoo, and McDonald, and all that bloody band. The Senecas would surely demand the prisoners. There was not one soulto speak a word for them, unless Brant were near. That noble and humanewarrior alone could save them from the Seneca stake. And I feared hewas at the burnt bridge with his Mohawks, facing our army as he alwaysfaced it, dauntless, adroit, resourceful, and terrible. 

A little stony stream ran down beside the trackless course I travelledand I seized the chance of confusing the tireless men who tracked me, and took to the stones, springing from one step to the next, takingcare not to wet my moccasins, dislodge moss or lichen, or in any mannermark the stones I trod on or break or disturb the branches and leavesabove me. 

The stream ran almost north as did all the little water-courseshereabouts, and for a long while I followed it, until at last, to mygreat relief, it divided; and I followed the branch that ran northeast. Again this branch forked; I took the eastern course until, on the rightbank, I saw long, naked beds of rock stretching into low crags andcurving eastward. 

Over this rock no Seneca could hope to track a cautious and hunted man. I walked sometimes, sometimes trotted; and so jogged on, bearing everto the east and south, meaning to cross the Chinisee River north of theconfluence, and pass clear around the head of the lake. 

Here I made my mistake by assuming that, as our pioneers must still beworking on the burnt bridge, the enemy that had merely enveloped ourparty by curling around us his right flank, would again swing back totheir bluffs along the lake, and, though hope of ambuscade was over, dispute the passage of the stream and the morass with our own people. 

But as I came out among the trees along the river bank, to myastonishment and alarm I saw an Indian house, and smoke curling fromthe chimney. So taken aback was I that I ran south to a great oak treeand stood behind it, striving to collect my thoughts and make out myproper bearings. But off again scattered every idea I had in my head, and I looked about me in a very panic, for I heard close at hand thebarking of Indian dogs and a vast murmur of voices; and, peering outagain from behind my tree I could see other houses close to the stripof forest where I hid, and the narrow lane between them was crowdedwith people. 

Where I was, what this town might be, I could not surmise; nor did Iperceive any way out of this wasp's nest where I was now landed, exceptto retrace my trail. And that I dared not do. 

There was now a great shouting in the village as though some person hadjust made a speech and his audience remained in two nods concerning itsimport. 

Truly, this seemed to be no place for me; the woods were very open--asugar bush in all the gorgeous glory of scarlet, yellow, and purplefoliage, heavily fringed with thickets of bushes and young hardwoodgrowth, which for the moment had hid the town from me, and no doubtconcealed me from the people close at hand. To retreat through such astrip of woodland was impossible without discovery. Besides, somewhereon my back trail were enemies, though just where I could not know. Fora moment's despair, it seemed to me that only the wings of a bird couldsave me now; then, as I involuntarily cast my gaze aloft, the thoughtto climb followed; and up I went into the branches, where the blaze offoliage concealed me; and lay close to a great limb looking down overthe top of the thicket to the open river bank. And what I saw astoundedme; the enemy's baggage wagons were fording the river; his cattle-drovehad just been herded across, and the open space was already full of hisgaunt cows and oxen. 

Rangers and Greens pricked them forward with their bayonets, forcingthem out of the opening and driving them northwest through theoutskirts of the village. The wagons, horses, and vehicles, in adreadful plight, followed the herd-guard. After them marched Butler'srear-guard, rangers, Greens, renegades, Indians sullenly turning theirheads to listen and to gaze as the uproar from the village increasedand burst into a very frenzy of diabolical yelling. 

Suddenly, out through the narrow lane or street surged hundreds ofSeneca warriors, all clustering and crowding around something in thecentre of the mass; and as the throng, now lurching this way, nowdriving that way, spread out over the cleared land up to the edges ofthe very thicket which I overlooked, my blood froze in my veins. 

For in the centre of that mass of painted, capering demons, walked Boydand Parker, their bloodless faces set and grim, their heads carriedhigh. 

Into this confusion drove the baggage wagons; the herd-guards began toshout angrily and drive back the Indians; the wagons drove slowlythrough the lane, the drivers looking down curiously at Boyd and hispallid companion, but not insulting them. 

One by one the battered and rickety wagons jolted by; then came thebloody and dishevelled soldiery plodding with shouldered musketsthrough the lanes of excited warriors, scarcely letting their haggardeyes rest on the two prisoners who stood, unpinioned in the front rank. 

A mounted officer, leaning from his saddle, asked the Senecas what theymeant to do with these prisoners; and the ferocious response seemed toshock him, for he drew bridle and stared at Boyd as though fascinated. 

So near to where I lay was Boyd standing that I could see the checkedquiver of his lips as he bit them to control his nerves before hespoke. Then he said to the mounted officer, in a perfectly even anddistinct voice:

"Can you not secure for us, sir, the civilized treatment of prisonersof war?"

"I dare not interfere, " faltered the officer, staring around at the seaof devilish faces. 

"And you, a white man, return me such a cowardly answer?"

Another motley company came marching up from the river, led by a superbMohawk Indian in full war-paint and feathers; and, blocked by themounted officer in front, halted. 

I saw Boyd's despairing glance sweep their files; then suddenly hiseyes brightened. 

"Brant!" he cried. 

And then I saw that the splendid Mohawk leader was the greatThayendanegea himself. 

"Boyd, " he said calmly, "I am sorry for you. I would help you if Icould. But, " he added, with a bitter smile, "there are those inauthority among us who are more savage than those you white men callsavages. One of these--gentlemen--has overruled me, denying my morehumane counsel. .. . I am sorry, Boyd. "

"Brant!" he said in a ringing voice. "Look at me attentively!"

"I look upon you, Boyd. "

Then something extraordinary happened; I saw Boyd make a quick sign;saw poor Parker imitate him; realized vaguely that it was the Masonicsignal of distress. 

Brant remained absolutely motionless for a full minute; suddenly hesprang forward, pushed away the Senecas who immediately surrounded theprisoners, shoving them aside right and left so fiercely that in amoment the whole throng was wavering and shrinking back. 

Then Brant, facing the astonished warriors, laid his hand on Boyd'shead and then on Parker's. 

"Senecas!" he said in a cold and ringing voice. "These men are mine;Let no man dare interfere with these two prisoners. They belong to me. I now give them my promise of safety. I take them under myprotection--I, Thayendanegea! I do not ask them of you; I take them. Ido not explain why. I do not permit you--not one among you to--toquestion me. What I have done is done. It is Joseph Brant who hasspoken!"

He turned calmly to Boyd, said something in a low voice, turned sharplyon his heel, and marched forward at the head of his company of Mohawksand halfbreeds. 

Then I saw Hiokatoo come up and stand glaring at Boyd, showing histeeth at him like a baffled wolf; and Boyd laughed in his face andseated himself on a log beside the path, coolly and insolently turninghis back on the Seneca warriors, and leisurely lighting his pipe. 

Parker came and seated himself beside him; and they conversed in voicesso low that I could not hear what they said, but Boyd smiled atintervals, and Parker's bruised visage relaxed. 

The Senecas had fallen back in a sullen line, their ferocious eyesnever shifting from the two prisoners. Hiokatoo set four warriors toguard them, then, passing slowly in front of Boyd, spat on the ground. 

"Dog of a Seneca!" said Boyd fiercely. "What you touch you defile, stinking wolverine that you are!"

"Dog of a white man!" retorted Hiokatoo. "You are not yet in your ownkennel! Remember that!"

"But you are!" said Boyd. "The stench betrays the wolverine! Go tellyour filthy cubs that my young men are counting the scalps of yourCat-People and your Andastes, and that the mangy lock of Amochol shallbe thrown to our swine!"

Struck entirely speechless by such rash effrontery and by his own fury, the dreaded Seneca war-chief groped for his hatchet with tremblinghands; but a warning hiss from one of his own Mountain Snakes on guardbrought him to his senses. 

Such an embodiment of devilish fury I had never seen on any humancountenance; only could it be matched in the lightning snarl of asurprised lynx or in the deadly stare of a rattlesnake. He uttered nosound; after a moment the thin lips, which had receded, sheathed theteeth again; and he walked to a tree and stood leaning against it asanother company of Sir John's Royal Greens marched up from the riverbank and continued northwest, passing between the tree where I layconcealed, and the log where Boyd and Parker sat. 

McDonald, mounted, naked claymore in his hand, came by, leading acompany of his renegades. He grinned at Boyd, and passed hisbasket-hilt around his throat with a significant gesture, then grinnedagain. 

"Not yet, you Scotch loon!" said Boyd gently. "I'll live to pepper yourkilted tatterdemalions so they'll beg for the mercies of Glencoe!"

After that, for a long while only stragglers came limping by--lank, bloody, starved creatures, who never even turned their sick eyes on thepeople they passed among. 

Then, after nearly half an hour, a full battalion of Johnson's Greensforded the river, and behind them came Butler's Rangers. 

Old John Butler, squatting his saddle like a weather-beaten toad, rodeby with scarcely a glance at the prisoners; and Greens and Rangerspassed on through the village and out of sight to the northwest. 

I had thought the defile was ended, when, looking back, I saw someIndians crossing the ford, carrying over a white officer. At first Isupposed he was wounded, but soon saw that he had not desired to wethis boots. 

What had become of his horse I could only guess, for he wore spurs andsword, and the sombre uniform of the Rangers. 

Then, as he came up I saw that he was Walter Butler. 

As he approached, his dark eyes were fixed on the prisoners; and whenhe came opposite to them he halted. 

Boyd returned his insolent stare very coolly, continuing to smoke hispipe. Slowly the golden-brown eyes of Butler contracted, and into hispale, handsome, but sinister face crept a slight colour. 

"So you are Boyd!" he said menacingly. 

"Yes, I am Boyd. What next?"

"What next?" repeated Walter Butler. "Well, really I don't know, myimpudent friend, but I strongly suspect the Seneca stake will comenext. "

Boyd laughed: "We gave Brant a sign that you also should recognize. Weare now under his protection. "

"What sign?" demanded Butler, his eyes becoming yellow and fixed. And, as Boyd carelessly repeated the rapid and mystical appeal, "Oh!" hesaid coolly. "So that is what you count on, is it?"

"Naturally. "

"With me also?"

"You are a Mason. "

"Also, " snarled Butler, "I am an officer in his British Majesty'sservice. Now, answer the questions I put to you. How many cannon didyour Yankee General send back to Tioga after Catharines-town was burnt, and how many has he with him?"

"Do you suppose that I am going to answer your questions?" said Boyd, amused. 

"I think you will, Come, sir; what artillery is he bringing north withhim?"

And as Boyd merely looked at him with contempt, he stepped nearer, bentsuddenly, and jerked Boyd to his feet. 

"You Yankee dog!" he said; "Stand up when your betters stand!"

Boyd reddened to his temples. 

"Murderer!" he said. "Does a gentleman stand in the presence of theCherry Valley butcher?" And he seated himself again on his log. 

Butler's visage became deathly, and for a full minute he stood there insilence. Suddenly he turned, nodded to Hiokatoo, pointed at Boyd, thenat Parker. Both prisoners rose as a yell of ferocious joy split the airfrom the Senecas. Then, wheeling on Boyd:

"Will you answer my questions?"

"No!"

"Do you refuse to answer the military questions put to you by anofficer?"

"No prisoner of war is compelled to do that!"

"You are mistaken; I compel you to answer on pain of death!"

"I refuse. "

Both men were deadly pale. Parker also had risen and was now standingbeside Boyd. 

"I claim the civilized treatment due to an officer, " said Boyd quietly. 

"Refused unless you answer!"

"I shall not answer. I am under Brant's protection!"

"Brant!" exclaimed Butler, his pallid visage contorted. "What do I carefor Brant? Who is Brant to offer you immunity? By God, sir, I tell youthat you shall answer my questions--any I think fit to ask you--everyone of them--or I turn you over to my Senecas!"

"You dare not!"

"Answer me, or you shall soon learn what I dare and dare not do!"

Boyd, pale as a sheet, said slowly:

"I do believe you capable of every infamy, Mr. Butler. I do believe, now, that the murderer of little children will sacrifice me to theseSenecas if I do not answer his dishonorable questions. And so, believing this, and always holding your person in the utmost loathingand contempt, I refuse to reveal to you one single item concerning thearmy in which I have the honour and privilege to serve. "

"Take him!" said Butler to the crowding Senecas. 

I have never been able to bring myself to write down how my comradedied. Many have written something of his death, judging the manner ofit from the condition in which his poor body was discovered the nextday by our advance. Yet, even these have shrunk from writing any butthe most general details, because the horror of the truth isindescribable, and not even the most callous mind could endure it all. 

God knows how I myself survived the swimming horror of that hellishscene--for the stake was hewn and planted full within my view. .. . Andit took him many hours to die--all the long September afternoon. .. . Andthey never left him for one moment. 

No, I can not write it, nor could I even tell my comrades when theycame up next day, how in detail died Thomas Boyd, lieutenant in myregiment of rifles. Only from what was left of him could they drawtheir horrible and unthinkable conclusions. 

I do not know whether I have more or less of courage than the usual manand soldier, but this I do know, that had I possessed a rifle where Ilay concealed, long before they wrenched the first groan from histortured body I would have fired at my comrade's heart and trusted tomy Maker and my legs. 

No torture that I ever heard of or could ever have conceived--nopunishment, no agony, no Calvary ever has matched the hellishhideousness of the endless execution of this young man. .. . He was onlytwenty-two years old; only a lieutenant among the thousands who servedtheir common motherland. No man who ever lived has died more bravely;none, perhaps, as horribly and as slowly. And it seemed as though inthat powerful, symmetrical, magnificent body, even after it becamescarcely recognizable as human, that the spark of life could not beextinguished even though it were cut into a million shreds andscattered to the winds like the fair body of Osiris. 

And this is all I care to say how it was that my comrade died, savethat he endured bravely; and that while consciousness remained, not onesecret would he reveal; not one plea for mercy escaped his lips. 

Parker died more swiftly and mercifully. 

It was after sunset when the Senecas left the place, but the sky abovewas still rosy. And as they slowly marched past the corpses of the twomen whom they had slain, every Seneca drew his hatchet and shouted:

"Salute! O Roya-neh!" fiercely honoring the dead bodies of the bravestmen who had ever died in the Long House. 

On the following afternoon I ventured from my concealment, and wasstriving to dig a grave for my two comrades, using my knife to do it, when the riflemen of our advance discovered me across the river. 

A moment later I looked up, my eyes blinded by tears, as the arm of theSagamore was flung round my shoulders, and the hands of theGrey-Feather and Tahoontowhee timidly sought mine. 

"Brother!" they said gently. 

* "Tekasenthos, O Sagamore!" I whispered, dropping my head on his broadshoulder. "Issi tye-y-ad-akeron, akwah de-ya-kon-akor-on-don!"

[* "I weep, O Sagamore! Yonder are lying bodies, yea, and of chiefs!"]

CHAPTER XXII

MES ADIEUX

For my acquaintances in and outside of the army, and for my friends andrelatives, this narrative has been written; and if in these pages Ihave seemed to present myself, my thoughts, and behaviour as matters ofundue importance, it is not done so purposely or willingly, but becauseI knew no better method of making from my daily journal the story ofthe times and of the events witnessed by me, and of which I was a smalland modest part. 

It is very true that no two people, even when standing shoulder toshoulder, ever see the same episode in the same manner, or draw similarconclusions concerning any event so witnessed. Yet, except fromhearsay, how is an individual to describe his times except in the lightof personal experience and of the emotions of the moment so derived?

In active events, self looms large, even in the crisis of supremeself-sacrifice. In the passive part, which even the most active amongus play for the greater portion of our lives, self is merged in thedetached and impersonal interest which we take in what passes beforeour eyes. Yet must we describe these things only as they are designedand coloured by our proper eyes, and therefore, with no greater hope ofaccuracy than to approximate to the general and composite truth. 

Of any intentional injustice to our enemies, their country, and theirred allies, I do not hesitate to acquit myself; yet, because I haverelated the history of this campaign as seen through the eyes of asoldier of the United States, so I would not deny that these same anddaily episodes, as seen by a British soldier, might wear forms andcolours very different, and yet be as near to the truth as anyobservations of my own. 

Therefore, without diffidence or hesitation--because I have explainedmyself--and prejudiced by an unalterable belief in the cause which Ihave had the honour and happiness to serve, it is proper that I bringmy narrative of these three months to a conclusion. 

With these same three months the days of my youth also ended. Nostripling could pass through those scenes and emerge still immature. The test was too terrible; the tragedy too profound; the very settingof the tremendous scene--all its monstrous and giganticaccessories--left an impression ineradicable upon the soul. Adolescencematured to manhood in those days of iron; youthful ignorance becamestern experience, sobering with its enduring leaven the serious yearsto come. 

I remember every separate event after the tragedy of Chenundana, wherethey found me dazed with grief and privation, digging with my brokenhunting knife a grave for my dead companions. 

The horror of their taking off passed from my shocked brain as theexigencies of the perilous moments increased, demanding of me constantand untiring effort, and piling upon my shoulders responsibilities thatleft no room for morbid brooding or even for the momentary inaction ofgrief. 

From Tioga, Colonel Shreve sent forward to us a wagon train ofprovisions, even wines and delicacies for our sick and wounded; buteven with this slight aid our men remained on half rations; and for allour voluntary sacrifice we could not hope now to reach Niagara anddeliver the final blow to that squirming den of serpents. 

True, Amochol was dead; but Walter Butler lived. And there was now nohope of reaching him. Bag and baggage, horse, foot, and Indians, he hadgone clear out of sight and sound into a vast and trackless wildernesswhich we might not hope to penetrate because, even on half rations, wehad now scarcely enough flour left to take us back to the frontiers ofcivilization. 

Of our artillery we had only a light piece or two left, and the cohorn;of cattle we had scarcely any; of wagons and horses very few, havingkilled and eaten the more worn-out animals at Horseheads. Only theregimental wagons contained any flour; half our officers were withoutmounts; ammunition was failing us; and between us and our frontiers laythe ashes of the Dark Empire and hundreds of miles of a wilderness sodreary and so difficult that we often wondered whether it was possiblefor human endurance to undergo the endless marches of a safe return. 

But our task was ended; and when we set our faces toward home, everyman in our ragged, muddy, brier-torn columns knew in his heart that thepower of the Iroquois Empire was broken forever. Senecas, Cayugas, Onondagas, might still threaten and even strike like crippled snakes;but the Long House lay in ashes, and the heart of every Indian in itwas burnt out. 

Swinging out our wings east and west as we set our homeward course, burning and destroying all that we had hitherto spared, purposely or byaccident, we started south; and from the fifteenth of September untilthe thirtieth the only living human being we encountered was the agedsquaw we had left at Catharines. 

Never had I seen such a desolation of utter destruction, for amid theendless ocean of trees every oasis was a blackened waste, every townbut a heap of sodden ashes, every garden a mass of decay, rotting underthe autumn sun. 

On the 30th of September, we marched into Tioga Fort, Colonel Shreve'scannon thundering their welcome, and Colonel Proctor's artillery bandplaying a most stirring air. But Lord! What a ragged, half-starved armyit was! Though we cared nothing for that, so glad were we to see ourflag flying and the batteaux lying in the river. And the music of theartillery filled me with solemn thoughts, for I thought of Lois and ofLana; and of Boyd, where he lay in his solitary grave under the frostystars. 

On the third of October, the army was in marching order once more;Colonel Shreve blew up the Tioga military works; the invalids, womenand children, and some of the regiments went by batteaux; but wemarched for Wyoming, passing through it on the tenth, and arriving atEaston on the fifteenth. 

And I remember that, starved as we were, dusty, bloody with briers, andhalf naked, regiment after regiment halted, sent back for their wagons, combed out and tied their hair, and used the last precious cupfulls offlour to powder their polls, so that their heads, at least might make amilitary appearance as they marched through the stone-built town ofEaston. 

And so, with sprigs of green to cock their hats, well floured hair, andscarce a pair of breeches to a company, our rascals footed it proudlyinto Easton town, fifes squealing, drums rattling, and all the churchbells and the artillery of the place clanging and booming out a welcometo the sorriest-clad army that ever entered a town since Falstaffhesitated to lead his naked rogues through Coventry. 

Here the thanksgiving service was held; and Lord, how we did eatafterward! But for the rest or repose which any among us might havebeen innocent enough to suppose the army had earned, none was metedout. Nenny! For instead, marching orders awaited us, and sufficientclothing to cool our blushes; and off we marched to join HisExcellency's army in the Highlands; for what with the new Spanishalliance and the arrival of the French fleet, matters were now stewingand trouble a-brewing for Sir Henry. They told us that His Excellencyrequired pepper for the dose, therefore had he sent for us to mix usinto the red-hot draught that Sir Henry and my Lord Cornwallis mustpresently prepare to swallow. 

I had not had a letter or any word from Lois at Fort Tioga. At Eastonthere was a letter which, she wrote, might not reach me; but in it shesaid that they had taken lodgings in Albany near to the house of LanaHelmer; that Mr. Hake had been more than kind; that she and her dearmother awaited news of our army with tenderest anxiety, but that up tothe moment of writing no news was to be had, not even any rumours. 

Her letter told me little more, save that her mother and Mr. Hake hadconferred concerning the estate of her late father; and that Mr. Hakewas making preparations to substantiate her mother's claim to the smallproperty of the family in France--a house, a tiny hamlet, and somevineyards, called by the family name of Contrecoeur, which meant hermother was her father's wedded wife. 

"Also, " she wrote, "my mother has told me that there are in the housesome books and pictures and pretty joyeaux which were beloved by myfather, and which he gave to her when she came to Contrecoeur, a bride. Also that her dot was still untouched, which, with her legal interestin my father's property, would suffice to properly endow me, and stillleave sufficient to maintain her. 

"So you see, Euan, that the half naked little gypsy of Poundridge campcomes not entirely shameless to her husband after all. Oh, my ownsoldier, hasten--hasten! Every day I hear drums in Albany streets andrun out to see; every evening I sit with my mother on the stoop andwatch the river redden in the sunset. Over the sandy plains of pinescomes blowing the wind of the Western wilderness. I feel its breath onmy cheek, faintly frosty, and wonder if the same wind had also touchedyour dear face ere it blew east to me. "

Often I read this letter on the march to the Hudson; ever wondering atthe history of this sweet mistress of my affections, marvelling at itsmystery, its wonders, and eternally amazed at this young girl'scourage, her loyalty and chaste devotion. 

I remember one day when we were halted at a cavalry camp, not far fromthe Hudson, conversing with three soldiers--Van Campen, Perry, and PaulSanborn, they being the three men who first discovered poor Boyd'sbody; and then noticed me a-digging in the earth with bleeding fingersand a broken blade. 

And they knew the history of Lois, and how she had dressed her inrifle-dress, and how she had come to French Catharines. And they toldme that in the cavalry camp there was talk of a young English girl, notyet sixteen, who had clipped her hair, tied it in a queue, powdered it, donned jack-boots, belt, and helmet, and come across the seas enlistedin a regiment of British Horse, with the vague idea of seeking herlover who had gone to America with his regiment. 

Further, they told me that, until taken by our men in a skirmish, herown comrades had not suspected her sex; that she was a slim, boyish, pretty thing; that His Excellency had caused inquiry to be made; andthat it had been discovered that her lover was serving in Sir John'sregiment of Royal Greens. 

This was a true story, it seemed; and that very morning His Excellencyhad sent her North to Haldimand with a flag, offering her everycourtesy and civility and recommendation within his power. 

Which pretty history left me very thoughtful, revealing as it did to methat my own heart's mistress was not the solitary and bright exceptionin a sex which, like other men, I had deemed inferior in every virileand mental virtue, and only spiritually superior to my own. And Iremembered the proud position of social and political equality enjoyedby the women of the Long House; and vaguely thought it was possiblethat in this matter the Iroquois Confederacy was even more advanced incivilization than the white nations, who regarded its inhabitants asdebased and brutal savages. 

In three months I had seen an Empire crash to the ground; already inthe prophetic and visionary eyes of our ragged soldiery, a mightierempire was beginning to crumble under the blasts from the blackenedmuzzles of our muskets. Soon kings would live only in the tales ofyesterday, and the unending thunder of artillery would die away, andthe clouds would break above the smoky field, revealing as our very ownall we had battled for so long--the right to live our lives in freedom, self-respect, and happiness. 

And I wondered whether generations not yet born would pay to us thenoble tribute which the sons of the Long House so often and reverentlyoffered to the dead who had made for them their League of Peace--alas!now shattered for all time. 

And in my ears the deep responses seemed to sound, solemnly and low, asthe uncorrupted priesthood chanted at Thendara:

 "Continue to listen, Thou who wert ruler, Ayonhwahtha! Continue to listen, Thou who wert ruler, Shatekariwate!

 This was the roll of you, You who have laboured, You who completed The Great League!

 Continue to listen, Thou who wert ruler, Sharenhaowane! Continue to listen, Thou who wert ruler--"

And the line of their noble hymn, the "Karenna": "I come again to greetand thank the women!"

Lord! A great and noble civilization died when the first cancerouscontact of the lesser scratched its living Eastern Gate. 

* "Hiya-thondek! Kahiaton. Kadi-kadon. "

[* "Listen! It is written. Therefore, I speak. "]

My commission as lieutenant in the 6th company of Morgan's Riflesafforded me only mixed emotions, but became pleasurable when Iunderstood that staff duty as interpreter and chief of Indian guidespermitted me to attach to my person not only Mayaro, the MohicanSagamore, but also my Oneidas, Grey-Feather and Tahoontowhee. 

Mounted service the two Oneidas abhorred, preferring to trot along oneither side of me; but the Sagamore, being a Siwanois, was a horseman, and truly he presented a superb figure as the handsome General and hisstaff led the New York brigade into the city of Albany, our batteredold drums thundering, our fifes awaking the echoes in the old Dutchcity, and our pretty faded colors floating in the primrose light ofearly evening. 

Right and left I glanced as we rode up the hilly street; and suddenlysaw Lois! And so craned my head and twisted my neck and fidgeted thatthe General, who was sometimes humorous, and who was perfectlyacquainted with my history, said to me that I had his permission toride standing on my head if I liked, but for the sake of militarydecency he preferred that I dismount at once and make my mannersotherwise to my affianced wife. 

Which I lost no time in doing, not noticing that my Indians werefollowing me, and drew bridle at the side-path and dismounted. 

But where, in the purple evening light, Lois had been standing on herstoop, now there was nobody, though the front door was open wide. So Iran across the street between the passing ranks of Gansevoort'sinfantry, sprang up the steps, and entered the dusky house. Through thetwilight of the polished hallway she came forward, caught me around theneck with a low cry, clung to me closer as I kissed her, holding to mein silence. 

Outside, the racketting drums of a passing regiment filled the housewith crashing echoes. When the noise had died away again, and the drumsof the next regiment were still distant, she loosened her arms, whispering my name, and framing my face with her slim hands. 

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of three tall andshadowy figures hovering in the doorway. Lois saw them, too, andstretched out one hand. One after another my three Indians came to her, bent their stately crests in silence, took her small hand, and laid iton their hearts. 

"Shall I bid them to dine with us tomorrow?" she whispered. 

"Bid them. "

So she asked them a trifle shyly, and they thanked her gravely, turnedone by one to take a silent leave of me, then went noiselessly out intothe early dusk. 

"Euan, my dear mother is awaiting you in our best room. "

"I will instantly pay my duties and----"

"Lana is there also. "

"Does she know?"

"Yes. God help her and the young thing she has taken to her heart. Thenews came by courier a week ago. "

"How he died? Does she know?"

"Oh, Euan! Yes, we all know now!. .. I have scarce slept since I heard, thinking of you. .. . When you have paid your respects to my mother andto Lana, come quietly away with me again. Lana has been weeping--whatwith the distant music of the approaching regiments, and the memory ofhim who will come no more----"

"I understand. "

She lifted her face to mine, laying her hands upon my shoulders. 

"Dost thou truly love me, Lois?" I asked. 

* "Sat-kah-tos, " she murmured. 

[* "Thou seest. "]

* "Se-non-wes?" I insisted. 

[* "Dost thou love?"]

* "Ke-non-wes, O Loskiel. " Her arms tightened around my neck, "Ai-hai!Ae-saya-tyen-endon! Ae-sah-hah-i-yen-en-hon----"

[* "I love thee, O Loskiel. .. Ah, thou mightest have been destroyed! Ifthou hadst perished by the wayside----"]

"Hush, dearest--dearest maid. 'Twixt God and Tharon, nothing can harmus now. "

And I heard the faint murmur of her lips on mine:

"Etho, ke-non-wes. Nothing can harm us now. "

 THE END