THE PIVOT
Pierre came at five o'clock. He was keen for the approaching supper
hour and came jovially.
I was sick with haste, and deep sunk in my own grief, so I was cruel
and a fool; I plumped the facts at him without a softening word. And
so I frustrated my own ends. The great, slow creature cowered and grew
dumb under my story. Then he went, great-eyed and hanging-lipped, from
cabin to cabin. I had locked up his springs of word and thought.
But one thing my sword and my words prodded out of him. He had come by
the portage path from the east, and had seen no marks of passage that
were less than a week old. Our star led west.
I baled what provision and ammunition we needed, loaded the canoes, and
cached the furs and the balance of the stores at the edge of the
forest. At six o'clock we were afloat. I led the way, and Pierre
followed with the Englishman. This gave me space to think in silence.
The sun sank red and clear, and we paddled from a colored dusk to a
clear starlight. I knew this dimly, as the lost in the inferno know
the barred joys above them. Unless we found Pemaou within the next few
hours I should never be one with the loveliness of nature again.
I held my way due west to the Malhominis. I could secure their
cooperation, if nothing more. Pierre followed at a canoe length, and
we traveled unbrokenly. It was an hour short of midnight when we saw
the west shore. I could take no bearings in the dim light, so we nosed
along, uncertain whether to go north or south to find the mouth of the
Wild Rice River where the Malhominis had their home. We held a short
colloquy and started northward. Suddenly Pierre shot his canoe beside
my own.
"A camp!" he breathed in a giant whisper.
I suspended my paddle. On the shore to the north of us were lights.
It could not be the Malhominis, for they lived inland; it was not
Pemaou, for the camp was many times larger than his would be. It was
probably a hunting party. All the western tribes were friendly; more,
they were my allies. I saw no necessity for caution. I raised a long
halloo, and our canoes raced toward the lights.
We landed in a medley. Indians sprang from the squatting groups around
the fire and ran to meet us. They were black shapes that I could not
recognize. I leaped from my canoe and held up my hand in greeting.
But an arm reached out and tore my musket from me. I looked up. A
leering Iroquois stood over me.
I dropped my arms and stood passive. A look over my shoulder told me
that Pierre and Starling had been seized and were fighting well.
"Caution!" I called. "Do not resist. Watch me."
"Where are we? What does it mean?" Starling called back. His voice
was shaking.
I held out my arms to be bound. "The Iroquois!" I shouted to Pierre in
dialect. "I did not know there were any within a thousand miles. Keep
steady. Follow me. We may find Pemaou here."
The Indians bound us systematically, but without undue elation, so that
I judged that they had many captives. They were Senecas and had the
look of picked men. I understood their speech, but beyond ribald jests
at our expense they said nothing. It was all swift, unreal. Owls
hooted in the woods and dogs snarled at us. The groups that remained
by the fire peered in our direction, but were too lethargic to come
near. I tried for a word with Starling. I feared for his spirit.
"They are Senecas," I managed to say to him; "the most diplomatic
nation of the Iroquois league. They will not butcher us without
consideration. Keep cool."
He nodded with some patronage. He looked impressive, unshaken; yet the
moment before he had been terror-stricken. I saw that I did not
understand him, after all.
Having bound us, our captors raised a shout and shouldered us toward
the camp. A young brave capered before us, beating his breast and
singing. The braves by the fire took up the cry.
And so we were pushed into the circle of flaming light. The Indians
crowded to us, and pressed their oily, grinning faces so near that I
felt their breath. I stumbled over refuse, and dirt-crusted dogs
blocked my way. The mangled carcass of a deer lay on the ground, and
the stench of fresh blood mingled with the reek of the camp. Yet I saw
only one thing clearly. In the midst of it stood the woman and Singing
Arrow.
My relief caught at my throat, and the cry I gave was hoarse and
strangled. But the woman heard it. My first look had shown me not
only that she was unharmed, but that she was undaunted, that she stood
white-faced in all the grime, and held herself above it, a thing of
spirit that soil could not reach. Yet when she saw me, the cry that
came from her in answer changed her from an effigy to something so warm
and living that I forgot where I stood, and stopped my breath to hold
her gaze to mine, and drink the moment to the full. We stood with
captivity between us and torture at our elbow, but the woman looked
only at me, and her lips grew red and tremulous, and her breath came
fast. "You are safe. You are safe." I heard the words even among the
babel, and I pulled like a wild animal at my bonds to free myself and
reach her side.
But I was held fast, and while I struggled came a mighty cry from
behind me, "Mary! Mary! Mary!" Starling's Goliath frame pushed by
me, and his captors were hurled like pygmies to each side.
The woman was unprepared. She cried at sight of him with a deep
throaty terror that sent the blood to my brain. Starling would have
pressed himself to her, but she put out her unbound arms and fended him
away. And then he stood with his great height bowed and pleaded to
her. I had shrugged at the English for their hard reserve, but when I
heard this man I learned again that it is always the dammed torrent
that is to be feared. Even the Indians heard in silence.
The silence lasted. Never before nor since have I known savages to
take the background and let two whites play out a tragedy unchecked.
But now they formed a ring and watched. They forgot their interest in
me and let me go. I could stand unheeded. An old man threw tinder on
the fire, and we saw each other's faces as in the searching, red light
of a storm. I watched the cords in Starling's neck tighten and relax
as he talked on and on.
The drama was in pantomime to me, as to the Indians, for the cousins
spoke in English. But I could understand the woman's face. She spoke
in monosyllables, but I could have pitied any other man for the gulf
she put between them by her look. She was more than scornful; torn and
disheveled as she was, she was cruelly radiant, her eyes black-lined
and her lips hard. She was unassailable. And when she met her
kinsman's eye I gloried in her till I could have laid my cheek on the
ground at her feet.
It was plain they were kinsmen. I had marked the strange blood
resemblance between them when I first saw the man, and it was doubly to
be noted now. It was blood against blood as they faced each other.
And it came to me that it was more than a personal duel. No wrong is
so unforgivable as one from our own family whose secret weaknesses we
know and share, and I felt that the repulsion in the woman's eyes was
part for herself and part for her pride of race. Yet I was uncertain
of the issue. The tie of blood is strong, and after a few minutes I
thought that Starling was gaining ground. His great personality
enwrapped us all, and his strange, compelling voice went on and on and
on, pleading, pleading in a tongue that I could not understand. His
eyes never left the woman's, and in time hers fell. I tried to clench
my bound hands, for my pride in her was hurt; yet I could understand
his power.
It was just then that the savages wearied of the spectacle and hustled
Starling away. They saw that he was English, and they unbound his
arms, and began to take counsel concerning him. In a flash I saw my
path clear. They were friendly to the English. The woman was English.
I must not let her identify herself with me. And so when her glance
crept back to me, I was prepared. I would not stop to read what her
look might say. I shook my head at her and dropped my eyes. I made
the same signal to Singing Arrow. The Indian would understand my
motive; I could not be sure about the woman.
And then I turned and mingled with the crowd, with my heart beating
strangely but my brain cool. The interest was centring in Starling,
and the older men had their calumets in hand and were preparing for the
council. I saw that for a few hours at least I should have life and
semi-liberty. There was no possibility of my escape, so, bound as I
was, I was free to wander within limits. I would keep as near the
women as possible and try and herd my faction together.
I had been too absorbed to use my eyes, but now I saw that a captive
was lying near my feet. He was closely tied on two pieces of rough
wood shaped like a St. Andrew's cross, and was a hideous sight with his
tongue protruding and his eyes beginning to glaze. Dogs were
scrambling and tearing at him, and I edged nearer and tried to drive
them away. I examined him as closely as I dared, and judged by the
dressing of his long hair that he was a Miami. In that case the war
party must have come from the south by way of the Ohio and the Illinois
country, and they were probably working their way north to reach
Michillimackinac on its unguarded side. I saw it was a war party, for
there were no women with them, and the Iroquois carry their families on
all hunting trips.
I looked at the dying man and wished for my knife. So they tortured
Indian captives while they let me, a Frenchman, go lightly bound.
Well, my turn was yet to come. My white skin probably gave me
importance enough so that I would be referred to the council. I would
not look ahead. I would plan for the moment, and open eyes and ears.
There were many captives, I saw now, and my anxiety for Leclerc and
Labarthe grew keen. I made my slow way around the bound figures. Some
were pegged to the ground by their out-stretched hands and feet, and
some were stretched on crosses. But all were Indians. I saw more
Miamis, a few Kickapoos, and some whom I did not know; I learned later
that they were Mascoutens. And then I saw Labarthe. He was tied to a
tree, Leclerc beside him. Leclerc, who was ever a fool, would have
motioned to me, but Labarthe struck down his arm and gave a blank
stare. So I was able to get near them. They looked blood-stained and
jaded, but practically unhurt, and I saw a half-eaten chunk of meat in
Leclerc's hand. They had been fed and reasonably well treated. But
that meant nothing as guide to what might come.
I had not made my way alone. Starling was the chief attraction, but I,
too, was the centre of a curious, chaffering crowd. The braves were
unwontedly good-humored, childishly pleased with the evening's
excitement, and I amused them still further by shrugging at them and
making great faces of contempt. When one offered me a meal cake I
kicked at him and trampled the food into the ground, and as I swaggered
away I heard him tell the others that I was a bear for courage. I
could have smiled at that, for I was acting more like a blustering
terrier than any nobler animal, but I would not let them see that I
understood their tongue.
And so I pushed my way about. But wherever I went, or whatever else my
eyes were doing, I kept watch upon the woman. She stood quiet with
Singing Arrow and waited for what might come. Her fate was hanging
with Starling's at the council ring, and I knew that I must keep away
from her. That was not easy. Each time that I let my glance rest upon
the foulness of the camp I felt that I must go to her and blind her
eyes. But I never made more than one step. I had only to look at her
to understand that her spirit had learned in these months to hold
itself above the body. What was passing did not touch her; she lived
in the fortress of her splendidly garrisoned pride. Singing Arrow
stood equally aloof, intrenched in her stoicism, but I think the root
motives of the two were different, though the outside index was the
same. Indeed, we all had different wellsprings for our composure.
Pierre's stolidity was largely training. Starling's quiet might mean
instinctive imitation, but I feared it was something more sinister.
While mine---- But I had no composure. I swaggered and shrugged and
played harlequin and boaster.
We were soon to learn that Starling's quiet was not impervious. I saw
him start. His hand flew to where his knife had been, and his teeth
showed like a jackal's. A figure that had lain, blanket-shrouded in
the shadow, had risen and come forward. It was Pemaou. He had pleased
his humor by being an unseen auditor and letting us play out our
various forms of resistance and despair for his delight. Now he would
make a dramatic entry. He was dressed for the part in a loin cloth, a
high laced hat of scarlet, and the boots of a captain of dragoons. He
stopped before Starling and grinned silently. Then he held his hat,
French fashion, and made a derisive bow. The Englishman forgot his
dignity and cursed. I wished that I had been near enough to hold up a
warning hand.
I knew my turn was next, so was prepared. Pemaou sought me, and stood
before me, but I would not see him; I looked through him as through
glass. He spoke to me in French, but I was deaf. I heard the Senecas
grunt with amusement.
Pemaou heard it too, and his war plume quivered. He gave an order in
Huron, and one of his men came behind me and unbound my hands. I could
have jeered at the childishness of his open purpose. He hoped that,
with my hands free, I would spring at him, impotent and vengeful as a
caged rattlesnake, and that then he could turn me over to the sport and
torture of the mob. I stretched my freed arms, laughed to myself, and
turned away. My laugh was genuine. It was wine to me that he should
have shown weakness in this fashion, when in some ways he had proved
himself a better general than I. It was a small victory, but it
cheered me.
I do not know how long the council lasted, but it seemed hours. The
old men rose at last, and going to Starling, patted him, grunted over
him, and examined him. I could not hear what they said, but it was
evidently pacific; they led him off in the direction of the largest
lodge.
And then came the woman's turn. I knew that my face was strained,
though I strove to keep it sneering. I saw the oldest man give
instructions, then he went to the two women and pointed the way before
him. I pushed along as best I could. He took them to a small hut of
bark and motioned them within, while he himself dropped the mat in
front of the opening. They were safe for that night at least.
The savages were wearied now and turned to Pierre and me with yawns.
They made short work of us. I was bound to the arm of a stout warrior,
and he dragged me under a tree and dropped on the ground. He was
snoring before I had finished building a barricade of cloak between us
to keep as much as possible of his touch and smell away.
The camp quieted rapidly, and I soon had only silence between me and
the stars. My mind was active but curiously placid. Inch by inch I
went over the ground of the last twenty-four hours. I stated the case
to myself as a foreigner translates a lesson. It is sometimes a help
to put a situation in the concrete, to phrase it as to a stranger. In
that way you stand aloof and see new light. So I put the matter in
category, sharing it with the stars, and with the back of the snoring
Indian.
We were in Pemaou's hands. He had known that the Iroquois were coming;
had probably known it months before, and had instigated this campaign.
He wished an alliance with the English, and, though he could work to
that end through the Iroquois, he would find an English prisoner a
material aid. I could see how useful I had been to him in keeping the
Englishwoman away from Michillimackinac,--where he would have had ado
to hold his title of possession to her,--and I could not but respect
the skill with which he had timed his blow, and brought her to the
Iroquois camp at the right moment. Yes, I had served him well, from
the time when I had assisted him to hear Longuant's speech in the
Ottawa camp to the present hour. The accident that had strengthened
him still further by throwing Lord Starling into his hands he also owed
to me. But I looked up at the stars and did not lose courage. The
game was not over; the score was yet to be paid.
I had many plans to arrange. Day was coming, and I watched the horizon
breaking and felt that the morning would bring new opportunity.
And then, just as I needed all my wit and presence, I fell into a deep,
exhausted sleep.