Fort Duncan, to which it is time the reader should be introduced, lay
bathed in the ruddy glow of the setting sun, whose rays tinged the
branches of the groves of aspen, birch, poplar, and spruce, which could
be seen at some distance away, both to the east and west. It stood on
the top of some high ground, rising abruptly from the margin of a stream
flowing by on the north side.
The fort consisted of a square palisade, thirty feet or so in height,
with rough wooden towers at each angle, connected by a narrow platform,
which ran round inside the walls, a few feet below their summit. The
only entrance was by a gate, flanked by two additional towers. This
could be secured by strong bars, but was destitute of ditch,
draw-bridge, or portcullis. The interior of the quadrangle was occupied
by the residence of the chief factor and clerks, a hall used as an
audience room, and a store-house, besides the dwellings of the hunters
and their wives and children, and other persons forming the garrison.
The land immediately round the fort had been cleared of trees; but there
was a forest on one side, and scattered groups of timber on the other,
affording abundance of wood for building purposes and fuel.
There was much beauty in the surrounding scenery, especially when the
roses were in full bloom, and other flowers of varied hue enamelled the
prairie. In a room of the fort, furnished with far more elegance than
is generally seen in the north-west territory, sat two young ladies.
Though both attractive, they differed greatly from each other. The
youngest, of small figure, was fair, with light hair and blue, laughing
eyes, her rosy mouth constantly wreathed in smiles. The elder was
somewhat taller, of a richer colour, with dark brown hair, and was even
more attractive in appearance than her companion. They were busily
employed with their needles, talking in the mean time on some
interesting subject, when their conversation was interrupted by the
entrance of a fine lad, who, although a couple of years older, might
have been known by his strong resemblance to be the brother of Hector
Mackintosh.
"Come along, Sybil--come along, Effie--if you want to see a war-chief,
thoroughly got up in his finest toggery," exclaimed Norman. "He is
Mysticoose, or the Roaring Bull, not a very romantic name--a great
leader among the Blackfeet. He has come to sell several packages of
peltries and a whole lot of buffalo robes. He'll probably take his
departure before long; so if you want to inspect him, you must come at
once."
"Do you, Sybil, wish to see this savage chief?" asked Effie.
"By all means," answered Sybil. "I should like to make a sketch of him
while he is bartering his peltries." And she took up a sketchbook and
pencil from the table.
"Let me bring your paint-box," said Effie, "for you will make a much
more interesting drawing if you colour it."
"I will try, if Norman will get a mug of water and hold it for me. We
must not let the chief discover what we are about, or the poor savage
may fancy we are bewitching him," said Sybil, laughing.
On going out of the house, they proceeded to the spot in front of the
store where the trading business was transacted. Captain Mackintosh, a
fine-looking man of middle age, and two of his clerks, stood on one
side, a quantity of goods piled up near them; while on the other was
seen an Indian chief, standing near several bales of peltries, and
attended by a band of nearly twenty followers. His appearance was
picturesque in the extreme. His head was adorned with a circlet of tall
plumes. His dress consisted of a coat of dressed deer-skin, tastefully
ornamented with beads and quill-work, as were his leggings, with long
tassels, while a white wolf-skin cloak hung over one shoulder, and
necklaces, composed of the teeth of bears and other animals, hung about
his neck. He had been keenly bargaining with his host; but no sooner
did the young ladies appear than he glanced towards them, his eyes
wandering from one to the other, until they settled on Sybil with a look
of evident admiration. She, however having begun her sketch, continued
drawing, regarding the Indian much as if he had been a lay figure
dressed up to copy.
Captain Mackintosh had at length to recall his attention to the matter
they were engaged on. The assistants on each side continued to weigh
the peltries, and hand over the articles given in exchange; but the
young chief seemed to have lost all the interest he had previously
shown, and instead of haggling as before over the price, made no
objection to any of the goods offered him, which his attendants packed
up as they received them, and carried out of the fort.
The trading being over, instead of following his people, the young chief
advanced to Captain Mackintosh, and addressed him in a long speech, the
meaning of which neither Sybil nor Effie could understand. Had they
done so, they would have been very much surprised to find that
Mysticoose was offering to make Sybil his wife, and to give in exchange
for her, peltries and robes sufficient to fill the store-house of the
fort. Captain Mackintosh answered, with due caution, that it was not
the custom of English ladies to marry unless they could give their
hearts to the persons who desired to possess them, nor that of fathers
to receive payment; but that he would tell his daughter of the honour
the chief intended her, although he would hold out no prospect that she
would consent to quit her home, and become the bride of one whose people
differed so much in their habits and customs, as well as in their
religion, from his.
On this, Mysticoose declared that he would be ready to learn the
religion of the pale-faces and adopt their customs, and entreated that
he might be allowed the opportunity of declaring his sentiments to the
maiden.
Captain Mackintosh, though very much annoyed, kept his countenance as
well as his temper, and endeavoured to persuade the chief that he could
find a far more suitable wife among his own people, with whose beauty he
would be satisfied, and who would labour for him like her sisters in
general. All he could say, however, did not appear to have any effect
in turning the young chief from his purpose; but, on the contrary, he
grew more and more eager, as if determined to succeed.
All the time Sybil, unconscious that she was the subject of
conversation, went on with her sketch; and as she drew rapidly, she
succeeded in producing a very exact portrait of the savage warrior.
Norman, who had been attending to his duties in the store, now returned,
and looking over Sybil's shoulder exclaimed--
"Capital! It's Mysticoose himself." Snatching it from her hand, he
held it up to the chief, saying, "What do you think of that, my friend?
It's wonderfully like you, isn't it?"
Mysticoose started as he saw it, without making any reply; and rapidly
advancing towards the young lady, endeavoured to take her hand. She
instinctively drew back, and stepped behind Effie.
On meeting with this rebuff, the chief stopped short, and addressed
Sybil, expressing in glowing language his admiration of her charms.
Though she could not understand his words, she could not fail to suspect
their meaning. Norman, however, who was sufficiently acquainted with
the language of the Blackfeet to make out the meaning of the speech--
though the expressions were too elaborate for him to follow--not
possessing the discretion of his father, burst out laughing.
"What's all that you're saying?" he exclaimed. "Just face-about, and
march out of this fort in double-quick time, or we may be obliged to
send you off in a way you may not be pleased with."
Scarcely had Norman uttered these words, than the chief, placing his
hand on the hilt of his scalping-knife, cast a glance full of anger at
the speaker, but had so far command of himself as not to draw it.
Captain Mackintosh now saw that it was time to interfere, and, speaking
in Indian, rebuked Norman for uncourteously treating their guest: and
then, placing his hand in a friendly way on the shoulder of the chief,
told him that he would consider the matter, advising him to retire, as
it would be soon time for closing the gates of the fort, and expressing
his regret that he could not, under the circumstances, afford him the
hospitality he would have desired.
The chief appeared to be pacified, his countenance assuming its usual
calm expression; and after he had cast another look of admiration at
Sybil, he walked with a dignified step towards the gate.
Captain Mackintosh, who accompanied him, shook hands in a cordial way,
and expressed a hope that nothing which had been said would cause a
feeling of irritation to remain on his mind, and that he would continue
to trade at the fort on the same friendly terms as hitherto. The chief
made no reply, but stalked on towards his tents, which were pitched at
some little distance from the fort. As soon as he had reached them, the
gate was shut, and the usual guard placed to watch the proceedings of
the Indians outside. The young ladies, who had agreed to take a ride
with Norman, were somewhat disappointed on finding that Captain
Mackintosh considered it would be imprudent for them to go outside the
fort while Sybil's admirer remained in the neighbourhood.
"He is really a handsome fellow," said Norman, laughing, as he looked on
the portrait. "You've done him justice too. Perhaps some day you may
change your mind; though I cannot say that I should approve of his
carrying you off to become Queen of the Roaring Bulls."
"Don't talk such nonsense, Norman," said Sybil. "I am vexed with myself
for having gone out to take his portrait. I had no idea that the savage
would even have looked at me. I have a great mind to tear up the
picture."
"Pray don't do that," said Effie; "it is too well drawn to be destroyed,
and I want to show it to mamma, who will, I am sure, admire it."
Mrs Mackintosh, who had been somewhat unwell, had not left her chamber;
but in the evening she came into the sitting-room, when the portrait was
shown her; and Norman related in his own way what had happened.
"I am sorry for it," she remarked. "I do not trust the Indians, and I
am afraid that this savage chief may cause us some annoyance. I wish
that you had not vexed him, Norman. You must in future be more
cautious, and pray do not, on any account, go to a distance from the
fort for some time to come. Sybil and Effie must give up their rides
for the present, unless they go out with a strong party."
"My father doesn't think the fellow will trouble us, as we parted on
good terms with him," answered Norman. "The chances are that he takes
himself off to-morrow, and will speedily forget all about Sybil."
When Captain Mackintosh afterwards came in, though he tried to make
light of the matter, his wife fancied that he looked much more anxious
than usual.
Still Norman insisted that Mysticoose and his people would take their
departure the next morning, and that they should then no longer be
troubled by them.
Strict watch was kept at night, and all remained quiet in the Indian
camp. Next morning the tents were still there, and no sign was
perceived that the occupants had any intention of moving.
The day went by; but though the tents remained, the young chief did not
make his appearance.
Norman was considerably put out. "I have no notion that the girls
should be kept prisoners on account of an impudent Redskin," he
exclaimed. "I will go out to the tents, and advise the chief and his
party, now that they have transacted their business, to take themselves
off."
"No, no, Norman, stay quiet, my lad," answered his father; "they'll not
go faster for being ordered off; and it is just possible that the young
chief may take it into his head to do you some harm. It will be a poor
satisfaction to punish him afterwards."
"I am not afraid of him, or of any other savage like him," said Norman.
"Well, well, stay within the fort until I give you leave to go out,"
said his father. "Young blood quickly gets up, and a quarrel may ensue,
which it is better to avoid."
Norman promised to obey; and, to vent his feelings by himself, went up
to the platform, which was dignified by being called the ramparts, that
he might take a look cut, and ascertain if there were any signs of
moving in the camp of the Blackfeet. He watched in vain, though he made
out in the far distance two figures on the prairie going in a
south-westerly direction. The sun was nearly setting when he returned
to the house. He found his mother and Sybil engaged in their usual
work.
"It is too provoking to have that fellow stopping out there, as if he
were laying siege to the fort. My father won't allow me to go out, but
I must get some one to inquire the chief's intentions. It is absurd in
him to suppose that Sybil would ever be induced to marry him. He can
have no object in remaining, as his admiration cannot be very deep, for
he has only seen her once for a few minutes."
"I am not quite certain about that," remarked Sybil; "I think that he
has seen me more than once. Don't you remember, when we were out
riding, meeting with an Indian, whom you said was one of the Blackfeet,
and who made Effie and me a long speech, though as we did not understand
a word he said, we could not reply, but you talked to him, and laughed
in his face. I thought that I recognised his features, though he was
dressed and painted in so different a way that I may have been
mistaken."
"I remember perfectly, but it never struck me that he was Mysticoose,
though I cannot positively say that he was not," answered Norman. "I
don't exactly remember what he said, but I fancy that he was praising
the pale-faces generally, and expressing his desire to be their friend."
"Well, we cannot account for the wayward fancies of the Red men,"
observed Mrs Mackintosh; "but your father is anxious to retain their
friendship, and would be unwilling to do anything to offend them. You
must have patience; and I dare say in a day or two we shall be rid of
our visitors."
"I am very sorry to have been the cause of the annoyance; and had I
dreamed of the result, I would have kept out of the way of the chief,"
said Sybil, half laughing.
"Well, if the Blackfeet don't go to-morrow, something must be done to
make them move off," exclaimed Hector.
Captain Mackintosh, though he did not say so, was really as much annoyed
as his son.
No buffalo were to be seen in the neighbourhood, and it was evident,
therefore, that the Indians did not remain for the sake of hunting.
Among the men in the fort was an experienced _voyageur_ and trapper, Le
Brun by name, well versed in all Indian ways.
The captain having consulted him, he volunteered to go out at night, and
try to ascertain what the Indians were about.
"We must never trust those Redskins," he observed; "they don't remain
here without an object."
His offer was accepted. Soon after dark he lowered himself down at the
rear of the fort, and crept round, making a wide circuit, so that,
should any of the Blackfeet be on the watch, he might escape
observation. Captain Mackintosh directed a man to wait with a rope, to
help him in again on the same side.
A careful look-out was kept during his absence round the fort. Some
time having passed, and Le Brun not making his appearance, Captain
Mackintosh began to fear that he had been discovered by the Indians, and
captured. They would scarcely, however, he thought, venture to put him
to death. Two hours or more went by; still he did not return. The
Captain, therefore, began to consider whether it would be expedient to
send out another man to try and ascertain what had happened. He was
turning over in his mind who he should employ in this somewhat dangerous
service, when Norman came up to him.
"Let me go," he said; "I am sure that I can get up to the camp without
being discovered, and I will be exceedingly cautious. It is not,
indeed, likely that the Indians will be on the watch; for, should they
have caught Le Brun, they will not suppose that we shall send another
person to look for him. I will only get near enough to hear what they
are saying, and creep away again as noiselessly as a lynx."
"No, no, Norman; I am convinced of your courage and discretion, but I
cannot allow you to risk your life for such an object," said his father.
"But I run no risk of losing my life," answered Norman; "they would not
venture to kill me."
"They would not if they knew who you were; but finding a spy in their
neighbourhood, they might shoot you down without inquiry," observed
Captain Mackintosh.
"I don't want to be shot," said Norman; "depend upon it, I'll take good
care to avoid that."
At length, Captain Mackintosh, reflecting that he could not send any one
else on an expedition to the dangers of which he was unwilling to expose
his own son, gave permission, charging Norman to approach the camp with
the greatest possible caution, and only to do so provided he could hear
the voices of the Indians, and had reason to believe that they were
sitting in council.
Norman, well pleased at the confidence placed in him, hurried off to
prepare for his expedition, by putting on a dark suit, which would
assist in concealing him from view. Taking his gun, and sticking a
brace of pistols in his belt, he descended, as Le Brun had done; but, to
reach the camp, he took a route on the side opposite that which the
scout had chosen. At first he walked upright, that he might the better
ascertain the course to take. There were lights in each of the towers
of the fort, which assisted him. No other objects were visible, even at
the distance of a hundred yards. As he got nearer the tents, he hoped
to be able to make them out against the sky. After he had gone some
distance, he stooped down and began to creep along in the Indian
fashion, trailing his gun. Every now and then he stopped to listen for
sounds. He was, he calculated, approaching the camp, when he fancied he
heard a rustling near him. It approached. He lay perfectly quiet. It
might be a snake or some animal. His eyes were of but little
assistance. "Should it be an Indian, I must try to take the fellow
prisoner; but it may be a hard matter to do that, unless he is unarmed,
and then I must hold a pistol to his head, and threaten to shoot him if
he cries out."
He had scarcely thought this, when he saw the head of a man lifted up as
if going to gaze around. Strong and active, with good nerves, he was
about to spring on the person, and seize him by the throat, when the
other must have made him out, and he heard a voice whisper--
"C'est moi, Le Brun!"
Norman, greatly relieved, made himself known.
"Venez avec moi, vite!" and the Canadian led the way, crawling along the
ground towards the lights glimmering from the fort. It was not until
they had been hauled up, and were safe inside, that Le Brun spoke. He
had, he told Captain Mackintosh, got close up to the camp, where he
heard the sounds of many voices, and the tramp of feet, as if a large
number of persons were collected, although only one fire burned in the
midst of the tents. He was afraid of approaching nearer, lest he should
be discovered. He waited in the expectation that the leaders would
gather round the fire, as is their wont, to discuss their plans. He was
rewarded for his patience, although they were too far off to enable him
to see them distinctly. He, however, counted at least six warriors, who
took their places at the fire, and one after the other got up and
addressed their companions. A few words only reached him; but he heard
enough to be convinced that they were discussing a plan to take
possession of the fort, but its details he was unable to make out. He
had gone round the camp, and while returning on the side opposite to
that from which he had set off, had fallen in with Norman.
"We must take care to be doubly vigilant, then," said Captain
Mackintosh.
He at once cautioned the men to be on the watch; but before the ladies
he made light of the matter, not wishing to cause them unnecessary
anxiety. He felt pretty certain, indeed, that the Blackfeet would not
openly attempt to take the fort, even though their numbers had, as Le
Brun supposed, been much increased.
Night passed away without the slightest alarm. The next day matters
remained to all appearance as on the preceding one. The tents were
there, and a few Indians only--some on horseback, others on foot--were
seen moving about in the neighbourhood, but none came near the fort. Le
Brun suggested that if they had any treacherous design in view, they
were probably waiting until the hunters, who made excursions to bring in
game two or three times a week, had been seen to leave the fort, and
that they would then, when fewer people were within, try and carry out
their plan, whatever that might be. He suggested that a party should
leave the fort after mid-day with several pack horses, as if they
intended to make a long excursion. That they should go away to the
south-east, and, as soon as they were out of sight, cross the river and
come back again after dark, on the north side. If the Indians really
intended treachery, they would certainly take the opportunity of
attempting to carry it out.
Captain Mackintosh approved of the plan, and Norman thought it an
excellent one. "I should so like to disappoint those rascals, and catch
them in their own trap," he said.
The horses (or the guard, as the stud belonging to a fort is called)
were kept in a meadow on the opposite side of the river, where they were
tolerably safe from any attempts which the marauding bands on the south
might make to carry them off. Some time passed before those required
could be brought across. As soon as they arrived, Le Brun, with eight
well-armed men, with as many spare horses, set off on their pretended
hunting expedition. They took care to pass sufficiently near the Indian
camp to be easily seen.
"Le Brun was right in his suspicions!" exclaimed Norman from the
ramparts, addressing his father, who was walking below. "Here comes
Mysticoose with a dozen followers, dressed in their gayest attire, for I
can see their ornaments glistening in the rays of the sun. Perhaps he
has come to ask for Sybil's answer to his offer; if so, we can give him
a very short one."
"We will say nothing to offend him," answered Captain Mackintosh, who
had joined his son; "but it will be prudent, knowing what we do, not to
admit these gentlemen inside the gate. I will go out and meet them, and
you and the other men cover me with your rifles. Let the Indians have a
glimpse of your arms, and I am sure that they will attempt no violence."
The arrangements were quickly made. As soon as the chief and his party
drew near, Captain Mackintosh went out of the fort, directing the men at
the gate to close it should the Indians show any intention of making a
rush to get in.
Advancing a short distance, he called to Mysticoose to dismount, and
explain the object of his visit. The chief looked up at the ramparts,
and, seeing the gleaming rifle-barrels, did as he was directed. Giving
the bridle of his horse to one of his followers, he then advanced, and,
putting out his hand in a cordial manner, said--
"Why does my white brother look upon me as an enemy? I have traded
fairly, and wish to trade again. I have now brought some more peltries,
not to trade, but to present to him as an earnest of my goodwill. Let
him, then, admit me and my followers within the gates, that I may offer
my present as presents should be offered, and have the happiness of
gazing once more on the fair lily of the prairie, after whom my heart
pants, as does the weary stag for the refreshing stream." Mysticoose
uttered much more in the same strain before he stopped.
Captain Mackintosh replied that he was always glad to see his friend,
but as it was late in the day he regretted that he could not admit the
chief and his followers, but that the next morning, if they wished to
come, he should be happy to receive them; and although he would not
refuse the present they had brought, he must insist on returning one of
equal value in goods, as he could not promise that the fair lily, as he
described his daughter, would be willing to show herself, and begged the
chief to understand clearly that she had sufficiently considered the
matter, and could not become his bride.
Whatever were the Indian's feelings, he concealed them, and made an
equally courteous reply, intimating that, notwithstanding what his white
brother had said, he should come as proposed with a larger present, and
a greater number of followers to convey it. He then, shaking hands as
before, returned to his horse, and remounting, rode off with his
companions.
"I hope, after all, that the Indian intends no treachery," observed
Captain Mackintosh, as he re-entered the fort; and the gates were closed
for the night. "Still we must be on our guard."
"I should think so, sir," said Norman; "and we shall soon hear what Le
Brun has to say on the subject."
About a couple of hours after dark, Le Brun and his party arrived, and,
having left their horses on the other side of the stream, noiselessly
entered the fort.
At an early hour the next day the young chief, with nearly twenty
followers, was seen approaching. Captain Mackintosh at once placed his
men in positions commanding the entrance, so that, should the Indians
show any treacherous intentions, the gate might forthwith be shut. His
great object was to prevent bloodshed; at the same time, while showing
that he was not unprepared for treachery, he did not wish to offend his
guest.
As a precautionary measure, he resolved not to admit more than half
their number, and he placed men ready to close the gates directly the
party had entered. Mysticoose rode up with the air of a gallant in days
of yore, and throwing the rein to one of his attendants, he, with the
larger number of his followers, dismounted and advanced towards Captain
Mackintosh, who stood ready to receive him.
"I can only allow ten to enter," said the captain; "the rest must remain
outside with the horses."
The chief, appearing not to think this unreasonable, directed the rest
of his followers to keep back. His countenance fell, however, when,
having entered the gate, he looked round and saw the hunters whom he
supposed to be at a distance, standing on either side with arms in their
hands. He hesitated and stopped short.
"Does my white brother think I come intending treachery?" he asked. "He
has been deceived by some one. My object is to present these peltries
to him, hoping that he will give me, not the goods he spoke of, but the
fair lily, his daughter, and I will promise to bring him ten times the
amount before another summer has begun."
Captain Mackintosh replied that he had already said all that he could
say on that subject.
But the chief was not satisfied with his refusal, and began another long
speech, which, as Norman remarked, "Though it might have a head, there
seemed but little chance of seeing its tail." He advised his father to
try and cut it short.
Meantime, Le Brun, having slipped away, unseen by the Indians, had gone
up on the ramparts, crept round to a part whence he could observe their
tents. He had not been long there when he saw a large body of men
issuing forth, and rapidly approaching the fort. Hurrying down, he gave
the information to Captain Mackintosh.
"There is no time to lose, monsieur," he said. "If we don't turn these
fellows out, they'll try to obtain possession of the fort, as I suspect
they all along intended to do."
On hearing this, Captain Mackintosh ordered his men, who had been drawn
up on either side, to close round their visitors, and some, who had been
concealed, to show themselves.
The chief, on seeing this, stopped short in his speech, knowing that his
treacherous design, it such he had intended, must have been discovered.
"What does this mean?" he asked, in a tone which showed that his
self-confident air was more assumed than real.
"It means, my friend, that you must quit the fort if you do not wish to
be shut up within it, and come another day to finish your address,"
answered Captain Mackintosh. "I wish to be your friend, but I must be
obeyed."
The appearance of the garrison showed the chief that the captain was in
earnest; and though he and his followers looked as if they were about to
make a rush, thinking better of it, they beat a hasty retreat, when the
gate was closed behind them. This was not done too soon, for they had
got but a short distance off when a number of warriors from the camp,
uttering loud shouts, galloped up, evidently expecting to indulge in the
plunder of the fort. The young chief, no longer able to constrain the
rage he felt at his disappointment, turning round, made gestures
significant of his intended vengeance; then, putting spurs to his horse,
he galloped off beyond range of any rifle-shot which he might well have
expected would be sent after him. He was seen at a distance haranguing
his people; but if he was urging them at once to attack the fort, they
did not appear willing to risk their lives in an attempt which was
likely to prove a failure.
The following day, having struck camp, they moved away to the southward,
and Le Brun, who followed them to a considerable distance, reported that
they appeared to have no intention of stopping in the neighbourhood, but
were probably returning to the lodges of their tribe.
Greatly relieved by this information, the inmates of Fort Duncan pursued
their usual avocations without any apprehension of further annoyance
from Mysticoose and his people.