How shall we attempt to paint all that passed through the mind of
Captain de Haldimar during this important conference of the fierce
chiefs?--where find language to convey the cold and thrilling horror
with which he listened to the calm discussion of a plan, the object of
which was the massacre, not only of a host of beings endeared to him by
long communionship of service, but of those who were wedded to his
heart by the dearer ties of affection and kindred? As Ponteac had
justly observed, the English garrisons, strong in their own defences,
were little likely to be speedily reduced, while their enemies confined
themselves to overt acts of hostility; but, against their insidious
professions of amity who could oppose a sufficient caution? His father,
the young officer was aware, had all along manifested a spirit of
conciliation towards the Indians, which, if followed up by the
government generally, must have had the effect of preventing the cruel
and sanguinary war that had so recently desolated this remote part of
the British possessions. How likely, therefore, was it, having this
object always in view, he should give in to the present wily stratagem,
where such plausible motives for the abandonment of their hostile
purpose were urged by the perfidious chiefs! From the few hasty hints
already given him by his guide,--that kind being, who evidently sought
to be the saviour of the devoted garrisons,--he had gathered that a
deep and artful plan was to be submitted to the chiefs by their leader;
but little did he imagine it was of the finished nature it now proved
to be. Any other than the present attempt, the vigilance and prudence
of his experienced father, he felt, would have rendered abortive; but
there was so much speciousness in the pleas that were to be advanced in
furtherance of their assumed object, he could not but admit the almost
certainty of their influence, even on him.
Sick and discouraged as he was at the horrible perspective thus forced
on his mental view, the young officer had not, for some moments,
presence of mind to reflect that the danger of the garrison existed
only so long as he should be absent from it. At length, however, the
cheering recollection came, and with it the mantling rush of blood, to
his faint heart. But, short was the consoling hope: again he felt
dismay in every fibre of his frame; for he now reflected, that although
his opportune discovery of the meditated scheme would save one fort,
there was no guardian angel to extend, as in this instance, its
protecting influence to the other; and within that other there breathed
those who were dearer far to him than his own existence;--beings, whose
lives were far more precious to him than any even in the garrison of
which he was a member. His sister Clara, whom he loved with a love
little inferior to that of his younger brother; and one, even more
dearly loved than Clara,--Madeline de Haldimar, his cousin and
affianced bride,--were both inmates of Michilimackinac, which was
commanded by the father of the latter, a major in the ---- regiment.
With Madeline de Haldimar he had long since exchanged his vows of
affection; and their nuptials, which were to have taken place about the
period when the present war broke out, had only been suspended because
all communication between the two posts had been entirely cut off by
the enemy.
Captain de Haldimar had none of the natural weakness and timidity of
character which belonged to the gentler and more sensitive Charles.
Sanguine and full of enterprise, he seldom met evils half way; but when
they did come, he sought to master them by the firmness and
collectedness with which he opposed his mind to their infliction. If
his heart was now racked with the most acute suffering--his reason
incapacitated from exercising its calm deliberative power, the seeming
contradiction arose not from any deficiency in his character, but was
attributable wholly to the extraordinary circumstances of the moment.
It was a part of the profound plan of the Ottawa chief, that it should
be essayed on the two forts on the same day; and it was a suggestion of
the murderer of poor Donellan, that a parley should be obtained,
through the medium of a white flag, the nature of which he explained to
them, as it was understood among their enemies. If invited to the
council, then they were to enter, or not, as circumstances might
induce; but, in any case, they were to go unprovided with the pipe of
peace, since this could not be smoked without violating every thing
held most sacred among themselves. The red, or war-pipe, was to be
substituted as if by accident; and, for the success of the deception,
they were to presume on the ignorance of their enemies. This, however,
was not important, since the period of their first parley was to be the
moment chosen for the arrangement of a future council, and the proposal
of a ball-playing upon the common. Three days were to be named as the
interval between the first conference of Ponteac with the governor and
the definitive council which was to ensue; during which, however, it
was so arranged, that, before the lip of a red skin should touch the
pipe of peace, the ball-players should rush in and massacre the
unprepared soldiery, while the chiefs despatched the officers in
council.
It was the proximity of the period allotted for the execution of their
cruel scheme that mainly contributed to the dismay of Captain de
Haldimar. The very next day was appointed for carrying into effect the
first part of the Indian plan: and how was it possible that a
messenger, even admitting he should elude the vigilance of the enemy,
could reach the distant post of Michilimackinac within the short period
on which hung the destiny of that devoted fortress. In the midst of the
confused and distracting images that now crowded on his brain, came at
length one thought, redolent with the brightest colourings of hope. On
his return to the garrison, the treachery of the Indians being made
known, the governor might so far, and with a view of gaining time, give
in to the plan of his enemies, as to obtain such delay as would afford
the chance of communication between the forts. The attempt, on the part
of those who should be selected for this purpose, would, it is true, be
a desperate one: still it must be made; and, with such incentives to
exertion as he had, how willingly would he propose his own services!
The more he dwelt on this mode of defeating the subtle designs of the
enemy, the more practicable did it appear. Of his own safe return to
the fort he entertained not a doubt; for he knew and relied on the
Indian woman, who was bound to him by a tie of gratitude, which her
conduct that night evidently denoted to be superior even to the
interests of her race. Moreover, as he had approached the encampment
unnoticed while the chiefs were yet awake to every thing around them,
how little probability was there of his return being detected while all
lay wrapped in the most profound repose. It is true that, for a moment,
his confidence deserted him as he recurred to the earnest dialogue of
the two Indians, and the sudden display of the rope and boot, the
latter of which articles he had at once recognised to be one of those
he had so recently worn; but his apprehensions on that score were again
speedily set to rest, when he reflected, had any suspicion existed in
the minds of these men that an enemy was lurking near them, a general
alarm would have been spread, and hundreds of warriors despatched to
scour the forest.
The night was now rapidly waning away, and already the cold damp air of
an autumnal morning was beginning to make itself felt. More than half
an hour had elapsed since the departure of Ponteac and his companion,
and yet Oucanasta came not. With a sense of the approach of day came
new and discouraging thoughts, and, for some minutes, the mind of the
young officer became petrified with horror, as he reflected on the bare
possibility of his escape being intercepted. The more he lingered on
this apprehension, the more bewildered were his ideas; and already, in
horrible perspective, he beheld the destruction of his nearest and
dearest friends, and the host of those who were humbler followers, and
partakers in the same destiny. Absolutely terrified with the misgivings
of his own heart, he, in the wildness and unconnectedness of his
purpose, now resolved to make the attempt to return alone, although he
knew not even the situation of the path he had so recently quitted. He
had actually moved a pace forward on his desperate enterprise, when he
felt a band touching the extended arm with which he groped to find the
entrance to his hiding-place. The unexpected collision sent a cold
shudder through his frame; and such was the excitement to which he had
worked himself up, it was not without difficulty he suppressed an
exclamation, that must inevitably have sealed his doom. The soft tones
of Oucanasta's voice re-assured him.
"The day will soon dawn," she whispered; "the Saganaw must go."
With the return of hope came the sense of all he owed to the
devotedness of this kind woman. He grasped the hand that still lingered
on his arm, pressed it affectionately in his own, and then placed it in
silence on his throbbing heart. The breathing of Oucanasta became
deeper, and the young officer fancied he could feel her trembling with
agitation. Again, however, and in a tone of more subdued expression,
she whispered that he must go.
There was little urging necessary to induce a prompt compliance with
the hint. Cautiously emerging from his concealment, Captain de Haldimar
now followed close in the rear of his guide, who took the same circuit
of the forest to reach the path that led towards the fort. This they
speedily gained, and then pursued their course in silence, until they
at length arrived at the log where the exchange of mocassins had been
made.
"Here the Saganaw may take breath," she observed, as she seated herself
on the fallen tree; "the sleep of the red skin is sound, and there is
no one upon the path but Oucanasta."
Anxious as he felt to secure his return to the fort, there was an
implied solicitation in the tones of her to whom he owed so much, that
prevented Captain de Haldimar from offering an objection, which he
feared might be construed into slight.
For a moment or two the Indian remained with her arms folded, and her
head bent over her chest; and then, in a low, deep, but tremulous
voice, observed,--
"When the Saganaw saved Oucanasta from perishing in the angry waters,
there was a girl of the pale faces with him, whose skin was like the
snows of the Canadian winter, and whose hair was black like the fur of
the squirrel. Oucanasta saw," she pursued, dropping her voice yet
lower, "that the Saganaw was loved by the pale girl, and her own heart
was very sick, for the Saganaw had saved her life, and she loved him
too. But she knew she was very foolish, and that an Indian girl could
never be the wife of a handsome chief of the Saganaw; and she prayed to
the Great Spirit of the red skins to give her strength to overcome her
feelings; but the Great Spirit was angry with her, and would not hear
her." She paused a moment, and then abruptly demanded, "Where is that
pale girl now?"
Captain de Haldimar had often been rallied, not only by his
brother-officers, but even by his sister and Madeline de Haldimar
herself, on the conquest he had evidently made of the heart of this
Indian girl. The event to which she had alluded had taken place several
months previous to the breaking out of hostilities. Oucanasta was
directing her frail bark, one evening, along the shores of the Detroit,
when one of those sudden gusts of wind, so frequent in these countries,
upset the canoe, and left its pilot struggling amid the waves. Captain
de Haldimar, who happened to be on the bank at the moment with his
sister and cousin, was an eye-witness of her danger, and instantly flew
down the steep to her assistance. Being an excellent swimmer, he was
not long in gaining the spot, where, exhausted with the exertion she
had made, and encumbered with her awkward machecoti, the poor girl was
already on the point of perishing. But for his timely assistance,
indeed, she must have sunk to the bottom; and, since that period, the
grateful being had been remarked for the strong but unexpressed
attachment she felt for her deliverer. This, however, was the first
moment Captain de Haldimar became acquainted with the extent of
feelings, the avowal of which not a little startled and surprised, and
even annoyed him. The last question, however, suggested a thought that
kindled every fibre of his being into expectancy,--Oucanasta might be
the saviour of those he loved; and he felt that, if time were but
afforded her, she would. He rose from the log, dropped on one knee
before the Indian, seized both her hands with eagerness, and then in
tones of earnest supplication whispered,--
"Oucanasta is right: the pale girl with the skin like snow, and hair
like the fur of the squirrel, is the bride of the Saganaw. Long before
he saved the life of Oucanasta, he knew and loved that pale girl. She
is dearer to the Saganaw than his own blood; but she is in the fort
beyond the great lake, and the tomahawks of the red skins will destroy
her; for the warriors of that fort have no one to tell them of their
danger. What says the red girl? will she go and save the lives of the
sister and the wife of the Saganaw."
The breathing of the Indian became deeper; and Captain de Haldimar
fancied she sighed heavily, as she replied,--
"Oucanasta is but a weak woman, and her feet are not swift like those
of a runner among the red skins; but what the Saganaw asks, for his
sake she will try. When she has seen him safe to his own fort, she will
go and prepare herself for the journey. The pale girl shall lay her
head on the bosom of the Saganaw, and Oucanasta will try to rejoice in
her happiness."
In the fervour of his gratitude, the young officer caught the drooping
form of the generous Indian wildly to his heart; his lips pressed hers,
and during the kiss that followed, the heart of the latter bounded and
throbbed, as if it would have passed from her own into the bosom of her
companion.
Never was a kiss less premeditated, less unchaste. Gratitude, not
passion, had called it forth; and had Madeline de Haldimar been near at
the moment, the feeling that had impelled the seeming infidelity to
herself would have been regarded as an additional claim on her
affection. On the whole, however, it was a most unfortunate and
ill-timed kiss, and, as is often the case under such circumstances, led
to the downfall of the woman. In the vivacity of his embrace, Captain
de Haldimar had drawn his guide so far forward upon the log, that she
lost her balance, and fell with a heavy and reverberating crash among
the leaves and dried sticks that were strewed thickly around.
Scarcely a second elapsed when the forest was alive with human yells,
that fell achingly on the ears of both; and bounding warriors were
heard on every hand, rapidly dividing the dense underwood they
encountered in their pursuit.
Quick as thought the Indian had regained her feet. She grasped the hand
of her companion; and hurrying, though not without caution, along the
path, again stood on the brow of the ravine through which they had
previously passed.
"The Saganaw must go alone," she whispered. "The red skins are close
upon our trail, but they will find only an Indian woman, when they
expect a pale face. Oucanasta will save her friend."
Captain de Haldimar did as he was desired. Clinging to the bushes that
lined the face of the precipitous descent, he managed once more to gain
the bed of the ravine. For a moment he paused to listen to the sounds
of his pursuers, whose footsteps were now audible on the eminence he
had just quitted; and then, gathering himself up for the leap that was
to enable him to clear the rivulet, he threw himself heavily forward.
His feet alighted upon an elevated and yielding substance, that gave
way with a crashing sound that echoed far and near throughout the
forest, and he felt himself secured as if in a trap. Although
despairing of escape, he groped with his hands to discover what it was
that thus detained him, and found he had fallen through a bark canoe,
the bottom of which had been turned upwards. The heart of the fugitive
now sank within him: there could be no doubt that his retreat was
intercepted. The canoe had been placed there since he last passed
through the ravine: and it was evident, from the close and triumphant
yell that followed the rending of the frail bark, such a result had
been anticipated.
Stunned as he was by the terrific cries of the savages, and confused as
were his ideas, Captain de Haldimar had still presence of mind to
perceive the path itself offered him no further security. He therefore
quitted it altogether, and struck, in an oblique direction, up the
opposite face of the ravine. Scarcely had he gone twenty yards, when he
heard the voices of several Indians conversing earnestly near the canoe
he had just quitted; and presently afterwards he could distinctly hear
them ascending the opposite brow of the ravine by the path he recently
congratulated himself on having abandoned. To advance or to recede was
now equally impracticable; for, on every side, he was begirt by
enemies, into whose hands a single false step must inevitably betray
him. What would he not have given for the presence of Oucanasta, who
was so capable of advising him in this difficulty! but, from the moment
of his descending into the ravine, he had utterly lost sight of her.
The spot on which he now rested was covered with thick brushwood,
closely interwoven at their tops, but affording sufficient space
beneath for a temporary close concealment; so that, unless some Indian
should touch him with his foot, there was little seeming probability of
his being discovered by the eye. Under this he crept, and lay,
breathless and motionless, with his head raised from the ground, and
his ear on the stretch for the slightest noise. For several minutes he
remained in this position, vainly seeking to catch the sound of a
voice, or the fall of a footstep; but the most deathlike silence had
succeeded to the fierce yellings that had so recently rent the forest.
At times he fancied he could distinguish faint noises in the direction
of the encampment; and so certain was he of this, he at length came to
the conclusion that the Indians, either baffled in their search, had
relinquished the pursuit, or, having encountered Oucanasta, had been
thrown on a different scent. His first intention had been to lie
concealed until the following night, when the warriors, no longer on
the alert, should leave the path once more open to him; but now that
the conviction of their return was strong on his mind, he changed his
determination, resolving to make the best of his way to the fort with
the aid of the approaching dawn. With this view he partly withdrew his
body from beneath its canopy of underwood; but, scarcely had he done
so, when a hundred tongues, like the baying of so many blood-hounds,
again rent the air with their wild cries, which seemed to rise up from
the very bowels of the earth, and close to the appalled ear of the
young officer.
Scarcely conscious of what he did, Captain de Haldimar grasped one of
his pistols, for he fancied he felt the hot breathing of human life
upon his cheek. With a sickly sensation of fear, he turned to satisfy
himself whether it was not an illusion of his heated imagination. What,
however, was his dismay, when he beheld bending over him a dark and
heavy form, the outline of which alone was distinguishable in the deep
gloom in which the ravine remained enveloped! Desperation was in the
heart of the excited officer: he cocked his pistol; but scarcely had
the sharp ticking sound floated on the air, when he felt a powerful
hand upon his chest; and, with as much facility as if he had been a
child, was he raised by that invisible hand to his feet. A dozen
warriors now sprang to the assistance of their comrade, when the whole,
having disarmed and bound their prisoner, led him back in triumph to
their encampment.