E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Graeme Mackreth, and the Project
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THE HUNTERS OF THE HILLS
A Story of the Great French and Indian War
by
JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER
Author of _The Tree Of Appomattox_, _The Keepers Of The Trail_, _The
Forest Of Swords_, etc.
Appleton-Century-Crofts, Inc.
New York
1916
FOREWORD
"The Hunters of the Hills" is the first volume of a series dealing with
the great struggle of France and England and their colonies for dominion
in North America, culminating with the fall of Quebec. It is also
concerned to a large extent with the Iroquois, the mighty league known
in their own language as the Hodenosaunee, for the favor of which both
French and English were high bidders. In his treatment of the theme the
author has consulted many authorities, and he is not conscious of any
historical error.
CHARACTERS IN THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR SERIES
ROBERT LENNOX A lad of unknown origin
TAYOGA A young Onondaga warrior
DAVID WILLET A hunter
RAYMOND LOUIS DE ST. LUC A brilliant French officer
AGUSTE DE COURCELLES A French officer
FRANÇOIS DE JUMONVILLE A French officer
LOUIS DE GALISONNIÈRE A young French officer
JEAN DE MÉZY A corrupt Frenchman
ARMAND GLANDELET A young Frenchman
PIERRE BOUCHER A bully and bravo
PHILIBERT DROUILLARD A French priest
THE MARQUIS DUQUESNE Governor-General of Canada
MARQUIS DE VAUDREUIL Governor-General of Canada
FRANÇOIS BIGOT Intendant of Canada
MARQUIS DE MONTCALM French commander-in-chief
DE LEVIS A French general
BOURLAMAQUE A French general
BOUGAINVILLE A French general
ARMAND DUBOIS A follower of St. Luc
M. DE CHATILLARD An old French Seigneur
CHARLES LANGLADE A French partisan
THE DOVE The Indian wife of Langlade
TANDAKORA An Ojibway chief
DAGANOWEDA A young Mohawk chief
HENDRICK An old Mohawk chief
BRADDOCK A British general
ABERCROMBIE A British general
WOLFE A British general
COL. WILLIAM JOHNSON Anglo-American leader
MOLLY BRANT Col. Wm. Johnson's Indian wife
JOSEPH BRANT Young brother of Molly Brant,
afterward the great Mohawk
chief, Thayendanegea
ROBERT DINWIDDIE Lieutenant-Governor of Virginia
WILLIAM SHIRLEY Governor of Massachusetts
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN Famous American patriot
JAMES COLDEN A young Philadelphia captain
WILLIAM WILTON A young Philadelphia lieutenant
HUGH CARSON A young Philadelphia lieutenant
JACOBUS HUYSMAN An Albany burgher
CATERINA Jacobus Huysman's cook
ALEXANDER MCLEAN An Albany schoolmaster
BENJAMIN HARDY A New York merchant
JOHNATHAN PILLSBURY Clerk to Benjamin Hardy
ADRIAN VAN ZOON A New York merchant
THE SLAVER A nameless rover
ACHILLE GARAY A French spy
ALFRED GROSVENOR A young English officer
JAMES CABELL A young Virginian
WALTER STUART A young Virginian
BLACK RIFLE A famous "Indian fighter"
ELIHU STRONG A Massachusetts colonel
ALAN HERVEY A New York financier
STUART WHYTE Captain of the British sloop, _Hawk_
JOHN LATHAM Lieutenant of the British sloop, _Hawk_
EDWARD CHARTERIS A young officer of the Royal Americans
ZEBEDEE CRANE A young scout and forest runner
ROBERT ROGERS Famous Captain of American Rangers
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE THREE FRIENDS
II. ST. LUC
III. THE TOMAHAWK
IV. THE INTELLIGENT CANOE
V. THE MOHAWK CHIEF
VI. THE TWO FRENCHMEN
VII. NEW FRANCE
VIII. GUESTS OF THE ENEMY
IX. AT THE INN
X. THE MEETING
XI. BIGOT'S BALL
XII. THE HUNTER AND THE BRAVO
XIII. THE BOWMEN
XIV. ON CHAMPLAIN
XV. THE VALE OF ONONDAGA
XVI. THE GREAT TEST
CHAPTER I
THE THREE FRIENDS
A canoe containing two boys and a man was moving slowly on one of the
little lakes in the great northern wilderness of what is now the State
of New York. The water, a brilliant blue under skies of the same intense
sapphire tint, rippled away gently on either side of the prow, or rose
in heaps of glittering bubbles, as the paddles were lifted for a new
stroke.
Vast masses of dense foliage in the tender green of early spring crowned
the high banks of the lake on every side. The eye found no break
anywhere. Only the pink or delicate red of a wild flower just bursting
into bloom varied the solid expanse of emerald walls; and save for the
canoe and a bird of prey, darting in a streak of silver for a fish, the
surface of the water was lone and silent.
The three who used the paddles were individual and unlike, none of them
bearing any resemblance to the other two. The man sat in the stern. He
was of middle years, built very powerfully and with muscles and sinews
developed to an amazing degree. His face, in childhood quite fair, had
been burned almost as brown as that of an Indian by long exposure. He
was clothed wholly in tanned deerskin adorned with many little colored
beads. A hatchet and knife were in the broad belt at his waist, and a
long rifle lay at his feet.
His face was fine and open and he would have been noticed anywhere. But
the eyes of the curious would surely have rested first upon the two
youths with him.
One was back of the canoe's center on the right side and the other was
forward on the left. The weight of the three occupants was balanced so
nicely that their delicate craft floated on a perfectly even keel. The
lad near the prow was an Indian of a nobler type than is often seen in
these later days, when he has been deprived of the native surroundings
that fit him like the setting of a gem.
The Indian, although several years short of full manhood, was tall, with
limbs slender as was usual in his kind; but his shoulders were broad and
his chest wide and deep. His color was a light copper, the tint verging
toward red, and his face was illumined wonderfully by black eyes that
often flashed with a lofty look of courage and pride.
The young warrior, Tayoga, a coming chief of the clan of the Bear, of
the nation Onondaga, of the League of the Hodenosaunee, known to white
men as the Iroquois, was in all the wild splendor of full forest
attire. His headdress, _gustoweh_, was the product of long and careful
labor. It was a splint arch, curving over the head, and crossed by
another arch from side to side, the whole inclosed by a cap of fine
network, fastened with a silver band. From the crest, like the plume of
a Roman knight, a cluster of pure white feathers hung, and on the side
of it a white feather of uncommon size projected upward and backward,
the end of the feather set in a little tube which revolved with the
wind, the whole imparting a further air of distinction to his strong and
haughty countenance.
The upper part of his body was clothed in the garment called by the
Hodenosaunee _gakaah_, a long tunic of deerskin tanned beautifully,
descending to the knees, belted at the waist, and decorated elaborately
with the quills of the porcupine, stained red, yellow and blue and
varied with the natural white.
His leggings, called in his own language _giseha_, were fastened by
bands above the knees, and met his moccasins. They too were of deerskin
tanned with the same skill, and along the seams and around the bottom,
were adorned with the quills of the porcupine and rows of small, colored
beads. The moccasins, _ahtaquaoweh_, of deerskin, were also decorated
with quills and beads, but the broad belt, _gagehta_, holding in his
tunic at the waist, was of rich blue velvet, heavy with bead work. The
knife at his belt had a silver hilt, and the rifle in the bottom of the
canoe was silver-mounted. Nowhere in the world could one have found a
young forest warrior more splendid in figure, manner and dress.
The white youth was the equal in age and height of his red comrade, but
was built a little more heavily. His face, tanned red instead of brown,
was of the blonde type and bore an aspect of refinement unusual in the
woods. The blue eyes were thoughtful and the chin, curving rather
delicately, indicated gentleness and a sense of humor, allied with
firmness of purpose and great courage. His dress was similar in fashion
to that of the older man, but was finer in quality. He was armed like
the others.
"I suppose we're the only people on the lake," said the hunter and
scout, David Willet, "and I'm glad of it, lads. It's not a time, just
when the spring has come and the woods are so fine, to be shot at by
Huron warriors and their like down from Canada."
"I don't want 'em to send their bullets at me in the spring or any other
time," said the white lad, Robert Lennox. "Hurons are not good marksmen,
but if they kept on firing they'd be likely to hit at last. I don't
think, though, that we'll find any of 'em here. What do you say,
Tayoga?"
The Indian youth flashed a swift look along the green wall of forest,
and replied in pure Onondaga, which both Lennox and Willet understood:
"I think they do not come. Nothing stirs in the woods on the high banks.
Yet Onontio (the Governor General of Canada) would send the Hurons and
the other nations allied with the French against the people of Corlear
(the Governor of the Province of New York). But they fear the
Hodenosaunee."
"Well they may!" said Willet. "The Iroquois have stopped many a foray
of the French. More than one little settlement has thriven in the shade
of the Long House."
The young warrior smiled and lifted his head a little. Nobody had more
pride of birth and race than an Onondaga or a Mohawk. The home of the
Hodenosaunee was in New York, but their hunting grounds and real domain,
over which they were lords, extended from the Hudson to the Ohio and
from the St. Lawrence to the Cumberland and the Tennessee, where the
land of the Cherokees began. No truer kings of the forest ever lived,
and for generations their warlike spirit fed upon the fact.
"It is true," said Tayoga gravely, "but a shadow gathers in the north.
The children of Corlear wish to plow the land and raise corn, but the
sons of Onontio go into the forest and become hunters and warriors with
the Hurons. It is easy for the man in the woods to shoot down the man in
the field."
"You put it well, Tayoga," exclaimed Willet. "That's the kernel in the
nut. The English settle upon the land, but the French take to the wild
life and would rather be rovers. When it comes to fighting it puts our
people at a great disadvantage. I know that some sort of a wicked broth
is brewing at Quebec, but none of us can tell just when it will boil
over."
"Have you ever been to Quebec, Dave?" asked Robert.
"Twice. It's a fortress on a rock high above the St. Lawrence, and it's
the seat of the French power in North America. We English in this
country rule our selves mostly, but the French in Canada don't have
much to say. It's the officials sent out from France who govern as they
please."
"And you believe they'll attack us, Dave?"
"When they're ready, yes, but they intend to choose time and place. I
think they've been sending war belts to the tribes in the north, but I
can't prove it."
"The French in France are a brave and gallant race, Dave, and they are
brave and gallant here too, but I think they're often more cruel than we
are."
It was in David Willet's mind to say it was because the French had
adapted themselves more readily than the English to the ways of the
Indian, but consideration for the feelings of Tayoga restrained him. The
wilderness ranger had an innate delicacy and to him Tayoga was always a
nobleman of the forest.
"You've often told me, Dave," said Lennox, "that I've French blood in
me."
"There's evidence pointing that way," said Willet, "and when I was in
Quebec I saw some of the men from Northern France. I suppose we mostly
think of the French as short and dark, but these were tall and fair.
Some of them had blue eyes and yellow hair, and they made me think a
little of you, Robert."
Young Lennox sighed and became very thoughtful. The mystery of his
lineage puzzled and saddened him at times. It was a loss never to have
known a father or a mother, and for his kindest and best friends to be
of a blood not his own. The moments of depression, however, were brief,
as he had that greatest of all gifts from the gods, a cheerful and
hopeful temperament.
The three began to paddle with renewed vigor. Gasna Gaowo, the canoe in
which they sat, was a noble example of Onondaga art. It was about
sixteen feet in length and was made of the bark of the red elm, the rim,
however, being of white ash, stitched thoroughly to the bark. The ribs
also were of white ash, strong and flexible, and fastened at each end
under the rim. The prow, where the ends of the bark came together, was
quite sharp, and the canoe, while very light and apparently frail, was
exceedingly strong, able to carry a weight of more than a thousand
pounds. The Indians surpassed all other people in an art so useful in a
land of many lakes and rivers and they lavished willing labor upon their
canoes, often decorating them with great beauty and taste.
"We're now within the land of the Mohawks, are we not, Tayoga?" asked
Lennox.
"Ganeagaono, the Keepers of the Eastern Gate, rule here," replied the
young warrior, "but the Hurons dispute their claim."
"I've heard that the Mohawks and the Hurons, who now fight one another,
were once of the same blood."
"It is so. The old men have had it from those who were old men when they
were boys. The Mohawks in a far, far time were a clan of the Wanedote,
called in your language the Hurons, and lived where the French have
built their capital of Quebec. Thence their power spread, and becoming a
great nation themselves they separated from the Wanedote. But many
enemies attacked them and they moved to the south, where they joined the
Onondagas and Oneidas, and in time the League of the Hodenosaunee grew
up. That, though, was far, far back, eight or ten of what the white men
call generations."
"But it's interesting, tremendously so," said Robert, reflectively. "I
find that the red races and the white don't differ much. The flux and
movement have been going on always among them just as it has among us.
Races disappear, and new ones appear."
"It is so, Lennox," said Tayoga gravely, "but the League of the
Hodenosaunee is the chosen of Manitou. We, the Onundagaono, in your
language Onondagas, Keepers of the Council, the Brand and the Wampum,
know it. The power of the Long House cannot be broken. Onundagaono,
Ganeogaono, Nundawaono (Senecas), Gweugwehono (Cayugas), Onayotekaono
(Oneidas) and the new nation that we made our brethren, Dusgaowehono
(Tuscaroras), will defend it forever."
Robert glanced at him. Tayoga's nostrils expanded as he spoke, the chin
was thrown up again and his eyes flashed with a look of immeasurable
pride. White youth understood red youth. The forest could be as truly a
kingdom as cities and fields, and within the limits of his horizon
Tayoga, a coming chief of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga,
of the League of the Hodenosaunee, was as thoroughly of royal blood as
any sovereign on his throne. He and his father and his father's father
before him and others before them had heard the old men and the women
chant the prowess and invincibility of the Hodenosaunee, and of that
great league, the Onondagas, the Keepers of the Wampum, the Brand and
the Council Fire, were in Tayoga's belief first, its heart and soul.
Robert had pride of race himself--it was a time when an ancient stock
was thought to count for much--and he was sure that the blood in his
veins was noble, but, white though he was, he did not feel any
superiority to Tayoga. Instead he paid him respect where respect was due
because, born to a great place in a great race, he was equal to it. He
understood, too, why the Hodenosaunee seemed immutable and eternal to
its people, as ancient Rome had once seemed unshakable and everlasting
to the Romans, and, understanding, he kept his peace.
The lake, slender and long, now narrowed to a width of forty or fifty
yards and curved sharply toward the east. They slowed down with habitual
caution, until they could see what lay in front of them. Robert and
Tayoga rested their paddles, and Willet sent the canoe around the curve.
The fresh reach of water was peaceful too, unruffled by the craft of any
enemy, and on either side the same lofty banks of solid green stretched
ahead. Above and beyond the cliffs rose the distant peaks and ridges of
the high mountains. The whole was majestic and magnificent beyond
comparison. Robert and Tayoga, their paddles still idle, breathed it in
and felt that Manitou, who is the same as God, had lavished work upon
this region, making it good to the eye of all men for all time.
"How far ahead is the cove, Tayoga?" asked Willet.
"About a mile," replied the Onondaga.
"Then we'd better put in there, and look for game. We've got mighty
little venison."
"It is so," said Tayoga, using his favorite words of assent. Neither he
nor Robert resumed the paddle, leaving the work for the rest of the way
to the hunter, who was fully equal to the task. His powerful arms swept
the broad blade through the water, and the canoe shot forward at a
renewed pace. Long practice and training had made him so skillful at the
task that his breath was not quickened by the exertion. It was a
pleasure to Robert to watch the ease and power with which he did so
much.
The lake widened as they advanced, and through a change in the color of
the sky the water here seemed silver rather than blue. A flock of wild
ducks swam near the edge and he saw two darting loons, but there was no
other presence. Silence, beauty and majesty were everywhere, and he was
content to go on, without speaking, infused with the spirit of the
wilderness.
The cove showed after a while, at first a mere slit that only a wary eye
could have seen, and then a narrow opening through which a small creek
flowed into the lake. Willet, with swift and skillful strokes of the
paddle, turned the canoe into the stream and advanced some distance up
it, until he stopped at a point where it broadened into an expanse like
a pool, covered partly with water lilies, and fringed with tall reeds.
Behind the reeds were slanting banks clothed with dense, green foliage.
It was an ideal covert, and there were thousands like it in the
wonderful wilderness of the North Woods.
"You find this a good place, don't you, Tayoga?" said Willet, with a
certain deference.
"It suits us well," replied the young Onondaga in his measured tones.
"No man, Indian or white, has been here today. The lilies are
undisturbed. Not a reed has been bent. Ducks that have not yet seen us
are swimming quietly up the creek, and farther on a stag is drinking at
its edge. I can hear him lapping the water."
"That was wonderful, Tayoga," said Willet with admiration. "I wouldn't
have noticed it, but since you've spoken of it I can hear the stag too.
Now he's gone away. Maybe he's heard us."
"Like as not," said Robert, "and he'd have been a good prize, but he's
taken the alarm, and he's safe. We'll have to look for something else.
Just there on the right you can see an opening among the leaves, Dave,
and that's our place for landing."
Willet sent the canoe through the open water between the tall reeds,
then slowed it down with his paddle, and the prow touched the bank
gently.
The three stepped out and drew the canoe with great care upon the shore,
in order that it might dry. The bank at that point was not steep and the
presence of the deer at the water's edge farther up indicated a slope
yet easier there.
"Appears to be a likely place for game," said Willet. "While the stag
has scented us and gone, there must be more deer in the woods. Maybe
they're full of 'em, since this is doubtful ground and warriors and
white men too are scarce."
"But red scouts from the north may be abroad," said Robert, "and it
would be unwise to use our rifles. We don't want a brush with Hurons or
Tionontati."
"The Tionontati went into the west some years ago," said Tayoga, "and
but few of their warriors are left with their kinsmen, the Hurons."
"But those few would be too many, should they chance to be near. We must
not use our rifles. Instead we must resort to your bow and arrows,
Tayoga."
"Perhaps _waano_ (the bow) will serve us," said the young chief, with
his confident smile.
"That being the case, then," said Willet, "I'll stay here and mind the
canoe, while the pair of you boys go and find the deer. You're younger
than I am, an' I'm willing for you to do the work."
The white teeth of Tayoga flashed into a deeper smile.
"Does our friend, the Great Bear, who calls himself Willet, grow old?"
he asked.
"Not by a long sight, Tayoga," replied Willet with energy. "I'm no
braggart, I hope, but you Iroquois don't call me Great Bear for nothing.
My muscles are as hard as ever, and my wind's as good. I can lift more
and carry more upon my shoulders than any other man in all this
wilderness."
"I but jested with the Great Bear," said Tayoga, smiling. "Did I not see
last winter how quick he could be when I was about to be cut to pieces
under the sharp hoofs of the wounded and enraged moose, and he darted in
and slew the animal with his long knife?"
"Don't speak of it, Tayoga. That was just a little matter between
friends. You'd do as much for me if the chance came."
"But you've done it already, Great Bear."
Willet said something more in deprecation, and picking up the canoe, put
it in a better place. Its weight was nothing to him, and Robert noticed
with admiration the play of the great arms and shoulders. Seen now upon
the land and standing at his full height Willet was a giant,
proportioned perfectly, a titanic figure fitted by nature to cope with
the hardships and dangers of the wilderness.
"I'm thinking stronger than ever that this is good deer country," he
said. "It has all the looks of it, since they can find here the food
they like, and it hasn't been ranged over for a long time by white man
or red. Tayoga, you and Robert oughtn't to be long in finding the game
we want."
"I think like the Great Bear that we'll not have to look far for deer,"
said the Onondaga, "and I leave my rifle with you while I take my bow
and arrows."
"I'll keep your rifle for you, Tayoga, and if I didn't have anything
else to do I'd go along with you two lads and see you use the bow. I
know that you're a regular king with it."
Tayoga said nothing, although he was secretly pleased with the
compliment, and took from the canoe a long slender package, wrapped
carefully in white, tanned deerskin, which he unrolled, disclosing the
bow, _waano_.
The young Onondaga's bow, like everything he wore or used, was of the
finest make, four feet in length, and of such powerful wood that only
one of great strength and equal skill could bend it. He brought it to
the proper curve with a sudden, swift effort, and strung it. There he
tested the string with a quick sweeping motion of his hand, making it
give back a sound like that of a violin, and seemed satisfied.
He also took from the canoe the quiver, _gadasha_, which was made of
carefully dressed deerskin, elaborately decorated with the stained
quills of the porcupine. It was two feet in length and contained
twenty-five arrows, _gano_.
The arrows were three feet long, pointed with deer's horn, each carrying
two feathers twisted about the shaft. They, like the bow and quiver,
were fine specimens of workmanship and would have compared favorably
with those used by the great English archers of the Middle Ages.
Tayoga examined the sharp tips of the arrows, and, poising the quiver
over his left shoulder, fastened it on his back, securing the lower end
at his waist with the sinews of the deer, and the upper with the same
kind of cord, which he carried around the neck and then under his left
arm. The ends of the arrows were thus convenient to his right hand, and
with one sweeping circular motion he could draw them from the quiver and
fit them to the bowstring.
The Iroquois had long since learned the use of the rifle and musket, but
on occasion they still relied upon the bow, with which they had won
their kingdom, the finest expanse of mountain and forest, lake and
river, ever ruled over by man. Tayoga, as he strung his bow and hung
his quiver, felt a great emotion, the spirit of his ancestors he would
have called it, descending upon him. _Waano_ and he fitted together and
for the time he cherished it more than his rifle, the weapon that the
white man had brought from another world. The feel of the wood in his
hand made him see visions of a vast green wilderness in which the Indian
alone roamed and knew no equal.
"What are you dreaming about, Tayoga?" asked Robert, who also dreamed
dreams.
The Onondaga shook himself and laughed a little.
"Of nothing," he replied. "No, that was wrong. I was dreaming of the
deer that we'll soon find. Come, Lennox, we'll go seek him."
"And while you're finding him," said Willet, "I'll be building the fire
on which we'll cook the best parts of him."
Tayoga and Robert went together into the forest, the white youth taking
with him his rifle, which, however, he did not expect to use. It was
merely a precaution, as the Hurons, Abenakis, Caughnawagas and other
tribes in the north were beginning to stir and mutter under the French
influence. And for that reason, and because they did not wish to alarm
possible game, the two went on silent foot.
No other human beings were present there, but the forest was filled with
inhabitants, and hundreds of eyes regarded the red youth with the bow,
and the white youth with the rifle, as they passed among the trees.
Rabbits looked at them from small red eyes. A muskrat, at a brook's
edge, gazed a moment and then dived from sight. A chipmunk cocked up
his ears, listened and scuttled away.
But most of the population of the forest was in the trees. Squirrels
chattering with anger at the invaders, or with curiosity about them, ran
along the boughs, their bushy tails curving over their backs. A huge
wildcat crouched in a fork, swelled with anger, his eyes reddening and
his sharp claws thrusting forth as he looked at the two beings whom he
instinctively hated much and feared more. The leaves swarmed with birds,
robins and wrens and catbirds and all the feathered tribe keeping up an
incessant quivering and trilling, while a distant woodpecker drummed
portentously on the trunk of an old oak. They too saw the passing
youths, but since no hand was raised to hurt them they sang, in their
way, as they worked and played.
The wilderness spell was strong upon Tayoga, whose ancestors had lived
unknown ages in the forest. The wind from the north as it rustled the
leaves filled his strong lungs and made the great pulses leap. The bow
in his hand fitted into the palm like a knife in its sheath. He heard
the animals and the birds, and the sounds were those to which his
ancestors had listened a thousand years and more. Once again he was
proud of his heritage. He was Tayoga, a coming chief of the Clan of the
Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the League of the Hodenosaunee, and he
would not exchange places with any man of whom he had heard in all the
world.
The forest was the friend of Tayoga and he knew it. He could name the
trees, the elm and the maple, and the spruce and the cedar and all the
others. He knew the qualities of their wood and bark and the uses for
which every one was best fitted. He noticed particularly the great
maples, so precious to the Iroquois, from which they took sap and made
sugar, and which gave an occasion and name to one of their most sacred
festivals and dances. He also observed the trees from which the best
bows and arrows were made, and the red elms and butternut hickories, the
bark of which served the Iroquois for canoes.
When Tayoga passed through a forest it was not merely a journey, it was
also an inspection. He had been trained from his baby frame, _gaoseha_,
always to observe everything that met the human eye, and now he not only
examined the trees, but also the brooks and the little ravines and the
swell of the hills and the summits of the mountains that towered high,
many miles away. If ever he came back there he would know the ground and
all its marks.
His questing eye alighted presently upon the delicate traces of hoofs,
and, calling Robert's attention, the two examined them with the full
care demanded by their purpose.
"New," said Tayoga; "scarce an hour old."
"Less than that," said Robert. "The deer can't be far away."
"He is near, because there has been nothing to make him run. Here go the
traces in almost a half circle. He is feeding and taking his time."
"It's a good chase to follow. The wind is blowing toward us, and he can
take no alarm, unless he sees or hears us."
"It would be shame to an Onondaga if a deer heard him coming."
"You don't stand in any danger of being made ashamed, Tayoga. As you're
to be the hunter, lead and I'll follow."
The Onondaga slipped through the undergrowth, and Robert, a skillful
young woodsman also, came after with such care and lightness of foot
that neither made a twig or leaf rustle. Tayoga always followed the
traces. The deer had nibbled tender young shoots, but he had not
remained long in one place. The forest was such an abundant garden to
him that, fastidious as an epicure, he required the most delicate food
to please his palate.
Tayoga stopped suddenly in a few minutes and raised his hand. Robert,
following his gaze, saw a stag about a hundred yards away, a splendid
fellow with head upraised, not in alarm, but to nuzzle some tender young
leaves.
"I will go to the right," whispered the young warrior, "and will you, my
friend, remain here?"
Robert nodded, and Tayoga slid silently among the bushes to secure a
nearer and better position for aim. The Indian admired the stag which,
like himself, fitted into the forest. He would not have hunted him for
sport, nor at any other time would he have shot him, but food was needed
and Manitou had sent the deer for that purpose. He was not one to oppose
the will of Manitou.
The greatest bowman in the Northern wilderness crouched in the thicket,
and reaching his right hand over his left shoulder, withdrew an arrow,
which he promptly fitted to the string. It was a perfect arrow, made by
the young chief himself, and the two feathers were curved in the right
manner to secure the utmost degree of speed and accuracy. He fitted it
to the string and drew the bow far back, almost to the head of the
shaft. Now he was the hunter only and the spirit of hunting ancestors
for many generations was poured into him. His eye followed the line of
coming flight and he chose the exact spot on the sleek body beneath
which the great heart lay.
The stag, with his head upraised, still pulled at the tender top of a
bush, and the deceitful wind, which blew from him toward Tayoga, brought
no warning. Nor did the squirrel chattering in the tree or the bird
singing on the bough just over his head tell him that the hunter was
near. Tayoga looked again down the arrow at the chosen place on the
gleaming body of the deer, and with a sudden and powerful contraction of
the muscles, bending the bow a little further, loosed the shaft.
The arrow flew singing through the air as swift and deadly as a steel
dart and was buried in the heart of the stag, which, leaping upward,
fell, writhed convulsively a moment or two, and died. The young Onondaga
regarded his work a moment with satisfaction, and then walked forward,
followed by his white comrade.
"One arrow was enough, Tayoga," said Robert, "and I knew before you
shot that another would not be needed."
"The distance was not great," said Tayoga modestly. "I should have been
a poor marksman had I missed."
He pulled his arrow with a great effort from the body of the deer, wiped
it carefully upon the grass, and returned it to _gadasha_, the quiver.
Arrows required time and labor for the making, but unlike the powder and
bullet in a rifle, they could be used often, and hence at times the bow
had its advantage.
Then the two worked rapidly and skillfully with their great hunting
knives, skinning and removing all the choicer portions of the deer, and
before they finished they heard the pattering of light feet in the
woods, accompanied now and then by an evil whine.
"The wolves come early," said Tayoga.
"And they're over hungry," said Robert, "or they wouldn't let us know so
soon that they're in the thickets."
"It is told sometimes, among my people, that the soul of a wicked man
has gone into the wolf," said Tayoga, not ceasing in his work, his
shining blade flashing back and forth. "Then the wolf can understand
what we say, although he may not speak himself."
"And suppose we kill such a wolf, Tayoga, what becomes of the wicked
soul?"
"It goes at once into the body of another wolf, and passes on from wolf
to wolf, being condemned to live in that foul home forever. Such a
punishment is only for the most vile, and they are few. It is but the
hundredth among the wicked who suffers thus."
"The other ninety-nine go after death to _Hanegoategeh_, the land of
perpetual darkness, where they suffer in proportion to the crimes they
committed on earth, but _Hawenneyu_, the Divine Being, takes pity on
them and gives them another chance. When they have suffered long enough
in _Hanegoategeh_ to be purified he calls them before him and looks into
their souls. Nothing can be hidden from him. He sees the evil thought,
Lennox, as you or I would see a leaf upon the water, and then he judges.
And he is merciful. He does not condemn and send to everlasting torture,
because evil may yet be left in the soul, but if the good outweighs the
bad the good shall prevail and the suffering soul is sent to
_Hawenneyugeh_, the home of the just, where it suffers no more. But if
the bad still outweighs the good then its chance is lost and it is sent
to _Hanishaonogeh_, the home of the wicked, where it is condemned to
torture forever."
"A reasonable religion, Tayoga. Your _Hanegoategeh_ is like the
purgatory, in which the Catholic church believes. Your God like ours is
merciful, and the more I learn about your religion the more similar it
seems to ours."
"I think your God and our Manitou are the same, Lennox, we only see him
through different glasses, but our religion is old, old, very old,
perhaps older than yours."
Although Tayoga did not raise his voice or change the inflection Robert
knew that he spoke with great pride. The young Onondaga did not believe
his religion resembled the white man's but that the white man's
resembled his. Robert respected him though, and knowing the reasons for
his pride, said nothing in contradiction.
"The whining wolf is hungry," said Tayoga, "and since the soul of a
warrior may dwell in his body I will feed him."
He took a discarded piece of the deer and threw it far into the bushes.
A fearful growling, and the noise of struggling ensued at once.
"The wolf with the wicked soul in him may be there," said Robert, "but
even so he has to fight with the other wolves for the meat you flung."
"It is a part of his fate," said Tayoga gravely. "Seeing and thinking as
a man, he must yet bite and claw with beasts for his food. Now I think
we have all of the deer we wish."
As they could not take it with them for tanning, they cut the skin in
half, and each wrapped in his piece a goodly portion of the body to be
carried to the canoe. Both were fastidious, wishing to get no stain upon
their clothing, and, their task completed, they carefully washed their
hands and knives at the edge of a brook. Then as they lifted up their
burdens the whining and growling in the bushes increased rapidly.
"They see that we are going," said Tayoga. "The wolf even without the
soul of a warrior in it knows much. It is the wisest of all the animals,
unless the fox be its equal. The foolish bear and the mad panther fight
alone, but the wolf, who is too small to face either, bands with his
brothers into a league, even as the Hodenosaunee, and together they
pull down the deer and the moose, and in the lands of the Ohio they dare
to attack and slay the mighty bull buffalo."
"They know the strength of union, Tayoga, and they know, too, just now
that they're safe from our weapons. I can see their noses poking already
in their eagerness through the bushes. They're so hungry and so
confident that they'll hardly wait until we get away."
As they passed with their burdens into the bushes on the far side of the
little opening they heard a rush of light feet, and angry snarling.
Looking back, Robert saw that the carcass of the stag was already
covered with hungry wolves, every one fighting for a portion, and he
knew it was the way of the forest.