TEMPERED PUNISHMENT
Darkness came, and with it the long-expected Indians. They were a
score in all, and they glided like spectres along the shore and up to
the lodge in the thicket. It was a joyous greeting they received as
they gathered around the fire, and for a few minutes there was a
regular babel of tongues, although Jean did not understand a word that
was being said. At length the visitors ceased talking and listened to
Sam, who spoke with great earnestness, and motioned at times eastward.
That he was speaking about the slashers, and why he had sent for
assistance, Jean was certain.
These newcomers were a sturdy and formidable band of hunters. They
were of powerful physique, in the prime of life, and their faces
inspired Jean with hope and confidence. They were clad in buckskins,
and armed with muskets, hatchets, and hunting-knives. They were
warriors now, ready for the fray with the slashers, their enemies of
years. They were King George's men, as well, true and loyal. Several
of them had the proud distinction of kneeling at Fort Howe five years
before and taking the oath of fidelity to the King. They never wearied
of telling about that event, and of the grand pow-wow which followed
the signing of the treaty. It had been a notable time for them. After
they had taken the oath of allegiance, they delivered to Colonel
Francklin a string of Wampum as a solemn confirmation of their deed.
Following this there was great mirth when they had drunk the King's
health, and received a liberal supply of presents. The next day they
had been taken on board the man-of-war lying in the harbour, when they
again drank the King's health, and were presented with a pound of
gunpowder each. When they at last left for their wilderness homes,
they were saluted by the cannon of Fort Howe and His Majesty's ship
_Albany_, and they in return had given three huzzas and an Indian
war-whoop. Such attention and good will had made a deep impression
upon those who had attended the peace-parley. After that they were
ever ready to fight against King George's enemies, and they did all in
their power to convert the Indians who still remained rebellious.
The story Sam now told the newly-arrived warriors about the capture of
the girl by the two rebel Indians aroused their wrath, and they
determined to punish the cowardly Micmacs as soon as possible. As for
the slashers, they hoped to settle with them at once, which would prove
a warning to others. Occasionally they glanced at Jean as she sat
watching them. They knew her history now, and they admired her, for
Sam had told them of her courage on the trail, and of her bright,
cheerful disposition. They were much interested, too, in the little
arrow at her throat, and when Jean handed it to them, they examined it
intently, and talked to one another in quite an excited manner.
Not for long, however, could the Indians remain at the lodge. There
was stern work ahead of them this night, and Sam was becoming uneasy.
When he at length rose to his feet and picked up his gun, the visitors
did likewise. They examined the priming of their weapons, the bullets
in their pouches, and the quantity of powder in their powder-horns.
Finding everything to their satisfaction, they were about to leave the
lodge, when Jean sprang to her feet and laid a hand upon Sam's arm.
"Don't kill the white men," she pleaded. "Drive them away, but, please
don't kill them."
Sam turned and looked at her in silence for a few seconds. His eyes
were filled with an expression of admiration for this fair girl. He
was willing to do anything for her, but he knew that she did not
understand the importance of the mission upon which he and the other
warriors were bent.
"You won't kill them, will you?" she asked, noting his silence.
"Slashers bad," Sam replied. "Slashers hurt babby."
"I know they would if they got the chance. But can't you drive them
away without killing them? Oh, it would be terrible if you should
shoot them! You killed one man, and isn't that enough?"
Sam was in a quandry. He longed for the blood of the slashers whom he
hated. This was a great chance to wipe them out of existence. Never
before had he had such a just cause against them, and why should he not
make the most of it? But it was hard for him to resist the request of
the white girl. He turned to the other Indians, and spoke to them in
quick, short syllables. They replied, but what they said Jean did not
know. She could only hope.
"No kill slashers, eh?" Sam queried, turning to the girl.
"Please don't. Drive them away; frighten them, but do not kill them."
"Sam no say now. See bimeby, mebbe."
To Jean Sam was the very embodiment of good nature and gentle care.
And she had good reason for this high regard. But as a great bear has
been known to bestow a remarkable affection upon a lost child,
notwithstanding its savage nature, so it was with Sam. Could Jean have
seen him that night as he led his score of followers against the
slashers she would not have believed him to be the same Indian who had
been so kind to her. The wild nature within him was aroused. He was
on the warpath against a hated enemy. As he glided through the forest,
his eyes glowed like living coals of fire, and his great body quivered
with excitement. His companions, too, were intensely stirred. The
slashers were against King George, and that was all-sufficient. Like
weird spectres they moved through the night. Not a word did they
speak, and not a twig snapped as their moccasined feet pressed the
ground. Never did a girl have a more determined and thoroughly-trained
body of men speeding forth on her behalf than did Jean Sterling that
night in the heart of the great northern forest.
For a little over half an hour the Indians continued on their way, up
hill and down, with no abatement to their speed. At length, after
climbing a higher hill than usual, they paused on the eastern slope and
held a low-whispered consultation. This took but a few minutes, and
when they again advanced it was not in single file, but spread out to
the right and left like two wings, with Sam in the centre. Down in the
valley were the slashers, and toward them they moved, silently and
stealthily as the panther stalking its prey. With bent, crouching
bodies, and every sense keenly alert, they glided toward the
unsuspecting slashers. Nearer and nearer they approached, and at
length when the light of a camp fire winged its way into the forest
depths, they lessened their speed, dropped upon their hands and knees,
crept cautiously forward, and then stopped but a bow-shot away. Here
they remained as silent and rigid as the great trees, keenly observing
all that was taking place before them.
Near the fire about twenty-five men were gathered, talking in the most
animated manner. They were an evil-looking group of creatures, dirty,
unshaven, their clothes ill-fitting and torn. They formed the dregs of
the wild, lower than the Indians and the dumb beasts of the trails.
They were parasites, a menace to law and order. Honor was unknown
among them, and the purity of such a girl as Jean Sterling only aroused
the base passions within them. The rangers they feared, as well as the
Indians who were loyal to King George. They were cunning woodsmen,
subtle as the serpent, and sly as the fox. They were hard to catch,
being in one place to-day, and miles away the next. When food was
plentiful they were gluttons, but when it was scarce they starved for
days. They had a craze for rum, and when drunk they were ugly, maudlin
brutes. They were fond of a fight, and fought like demons on the
slightest pretext.
Only one thing seriously affected them, and that was a superstitious
fear. It hounded them wherever they went, as is so often the case with
low, base minds. They had signs many, in the heavens above and the
earth beneath, and to these were slaves. Therefore, when they saw Seth
Lupin lying dead on the bank of the river with the marks of the
clutching fingers upon his throat, some trembled with fear, and glanced
apprehensively around. It was the work of the devil, so they said, and
they were anxious to leave the place. Others, however, scoffed at
them, declaring it was none other than Sam, the ranger, who had been
seen lurking in the vicinity that very day. These latter by threats
had induced the fearsome ones to accompany them into the wilderness
where they knew the supposed murderer had his abode. They could easily
overcome him, so they believed, and carry off the beautiful girl. But
it had been a difficult journey. They had lost their way, and
floundered about in valleys and swamps. Fear still possessed the
hearts of more than half their number, and time and time again they
were on the point of turning back. But as Sam and his followers
watched from the darkness of the woods, the slashers were in better
spirits. They were to attack at midnight, and carry off the girl.
They discussed their plans for some time, and then curled up near the
fire for a short sleep ere beginning the march.
The lurking Indians waited patiently until silence reigned around the
fire. Then like unleashed hounds they swept forward, each with a
musket in one hand and a hunting-axe in the other. With blood-curdling
yells they leaped into the midst of the prostrate men, and as the
slashers sprang to their feet, amazed and stricken with fear, they went
down before the blows of their assailants like grain before the
reapers. Only a few managed to escape by darting aside and losing
themselves in the blackness of the forest. The others lay still where
they had fallen, with their conquerors standing over them. The Indians
had accomplished their task, so with grunts of satisfaction they
stripped the slashers of their powder-horns, hunting-knives, muskets,
and all the provisions they could find. Loaded with these, they sped
back to their former place of waiting, where they cast their booty upon
the ground. Here they squatted and watched the unconscious men near
the fire.
For some time the Indians remained in this position, and when they
began to think that their blows were heavier than they had intended,
the slashers showed signs of life. First one and then another lifted
his head and looked about in a dazed manner. Presently all but two or
three were sitting bolt upright staring at one another. Then as the
recollection of what had happened dawned upon their confused minds,
they staggered to their feet and groped for their guns. Being unable
to find them, they threw a few small sticks upon the dying fire. When
their search for the muskets proved in vain, and when they also found
that their powder-horns, knives, and provisions were also gone, they
stared at one another in profound amazement. They paid no heed to
their still prostrate comrades. Their only thought was for themselves.
A wild insensate fear swept upon them as they huddled there, peering
into the forest. This was something they had never before experienced,
and it was beyond their comprehension. It could not have been the work
of Indians, so they believed, for then not one of them would have been
left alive. But the yells which had awakened them sounded like the
yells of Indians, and several had faint recollections of dusky forms
hovering over them.
"It was not Indians," one of the men declared. "It was a legion of
devils which struck us. Who ever heard of Indians doing such a job?
Why, they would have finished every man-jack of us. It's a warning to
us to get out of this place and leave that girl alone. I said so at
the first when I saw those marks upon Seth Lupin's throat. There's
something d---- uncanny about this, and I'm done with it. Let's get
away before anything else happens."
Seeing that the slashers were now thoroughly frightened, and would
trouble them no more, Sam and his companions picked up their belongings
and booty, and glided away silently among the trees. They were not
altogether satisfied with their night's work, and so little was said as
they sped onward. Their savage nature demanded complete revenge upon
their old-time enemy. The partial knock-out blows were not to their
liking. Little did the slashers realise that they owed their lives
that night to the very girl whose ruin they had sought, who through her
gentle influence upon her dusky defenders had caused them to stay their
hands and temper their punishment toward their hated enemies.