The tragical end of the consultation related in the last chapter had the
effect of immediately reconciling the disputants. With the exception of
four or five of the most depraved and discontented among them, the
Indians bore no particular ill-will to the unfortunate principal of
Stoney Creek; and although a good deal disappointed to find that he was
a stern, unyielding trader, they had, in reality, no intention of coming
to a serious rupture with him, much less of laying violent hands either
upon master or men of the establishment.
When, therefore, they beheld Mr Whyte weltering in his blood at their
feet, a sacrifice to the ungovernable passion of Misconna, who was by no
means a favourite among his brethren, their temporary anger was
instantly dissipated, and a feeling of deepest indignation roused in
their bosoms against the miserable assassin who had perpetrated the base
and cowardly murder. It was, therefore, with a yell of rage that
several of the band, immediately after the victim fell, sprang into the
woods in hot pursuit of him whom they now counted their enemy. They
were joined by several men belonging to the fort, who had hastened to
the scene of action on hearing that the people in the hall were likely
to come to blows. Redfeather was the first who had bounded like a deer
into the woods in pursuit of the fugitive. Those who remained assisted
Charley and his friends to convey the body of Mr Whyte into an
adjoining room, where they placed him on a bed. He was quite dead, the
murderer's aim having been terribly true.
Finding that he was past all human aid, the young men returned to the
hall, which they entered just as Redfeather glided quickly through the
open doorway, and approaching the group, stood in silence beside them,
with his arms folded on his breast.
"You have something to tell, Redfeather," said Jacques, in a subdued
tone, after regarding him a few seconds; "is the scoundrel caught?"
"Misconna's foot is swift," replied the Indian, "and the wood is thick.
It is wasting time to follow him through the bushes."
"What would you advise, then?" exclaimed Charley, in a hurried voice.
"I see that you have some plan to propose."
"The wood is thick," answered Redfeather, "but the lake and the river
are open. Let one party go by the lake, and one party by the river."
"That's it, that's it, Injin," interrupted Jacques energetically; "yer
wits are always jumpin'. By crossin' over to Duck River, we can start
at a point five or six miles above the lower fall; an' as it's
thereabouts he must cross, we'll be time enough to catch him. If he
tries the lake, the other party'll _fix_ him there; an' he'll be soon
poked up if he tries to hide in the bush."
"Come, then; we'll all give chase at once," cried Charley, feeling a
temporary relief in the prospect of energetic action from the depressing
effects of the calamity that had so suddenly befallen him in the loss of
his chief and friend.
Little time was needed for preparation. Jacques, Charley, and Harry
proceeded by the river; while Redfeather and Hamilton, with a couple of
men, launched their canoe on the lake, and set off in pursuit.
Crossing the country for about a mile, Jacques led his party to the
point on the Duck River to which he had previously referred. Here they
found two canoes, into one of which the guide stepped with one of the
men, a Canadian, who had accompanied them, while Harry and Charley
embarked in the other. In a few minutes they were rapidly descending
the stream.
"How do you mean to act, Jacques?" inquired Charley, as he paddled
alongside of the guide's canoe. "Is it not likely that Misconna may
have crossed the river already? in which case we shall have no chance of
catching him."
"Niver fear," returned Jacques. "He must have longer legs than most men
if he gets to the flat-rock fall before us, an' as that's the spot where
he'll nat'rally cross the river, being the only straight line for the
hills that escapes the bend o' the bay to the south o' Stoney Creek,
we're pretty sartin to stop him there."
"True; but that being, as you you say, the _natural_ route, don't you
think it likely he'll expect that it will be guarded, and avoid it
accordingly?"
"He _would_ do so, Mister Charles, if he thought we were _here_; but
there are two reasons agin this. He thinks that he's got the start o'
us, an' won't need to double by way o' deceivin' us; and then he knows
that the whole tribe is after him, and consekintly won't take a long
road when there's a short one, if he can help it. But here's the rock.
Look out, Mister Charles. We'll have to run the fall, which isn't very
big just now, and then hide in the bushes at the foot of it till the
blackguard shows himself. Keep well to the right, an' don't mind the
big rock; the rush o' water takes you clear o' that without trouble."
With this concluding piece of advice, he pointed to the fall, which
plunged over a ledge of rock about half a mile ahead of them, and which
was distinguishable by a small column of white spray that rose out of
it. As Charley beheld it his spirits rose, and forgetting for a moment
the circumstances that called him there, he cried out--
"I'll run it before you, Jacques. Hurrah! Give way, Harry!" and in
spite of a remonstrance from the guide, he shot the canoe ahead, gave
vent to another reckless shout, and flew, rather than glided, down the
stream. On seeing this the guide held back, so as to give him
sufficient time to take the plunge ere he followed. A few strokes
brought Charley's canoe to the brink of the fall, and Harry was just in
the act of raising himself in the bow to observe the position of the
rocks, when a shout was heard on the bank close beside them. Looking up
they beheld an Indian emerge from the forest, fit an arrow to his bow,
and discharge it at them. The winged messenger was truly aimed; it
whizzed through the air and transfixed Harry Somerville's left shoulder
just at the moment they swept over the fall. The arrow completely
incapacitated Harry from using his arm, so that the canoe, instead of
being directed into the broad current, took a sudden turn, dashed in
among a mass of broken rocks, between which the water foamed with
violence, and upset. Here the canoe stuck fast, while its owners stood
up to their waists in the water, struggling to set it free--an object
which they were the more anxious to accomplish that its stern lay
directly in the spot where Jacques would infallibly descend. The next
instant their fears were realised. The second canoe glided over the
cataract, dashed violently against the first, and upset, leaving Jacques
and his man in a similar predicament. By their aid, however, the canoes
were more easily righted, and embarking quickly they shot forth again,
just as the Indian, who had been obliged to make a detour in order to
get within range of their position, reappeared on the banks above, and
sent another shaft after them--fortunately, however, without effect.
"This is unfortunate," muttered Jacques, as the party landed and
endeavoured to wring some of the water from their dripping clothes; "an'
the worst of it is that our guns are useless after sich a duckin', an'
the varmint knows that, an' will be down on us in a twinklin'."
"But we are four to one," exclaimed Harry. "Surely we don't need to
fear much from a single enemy."
"Humph!" ejaculated the guide, as he examined the lock of his gun.
"You've had little to do with Injins, that's plain. You may be sure
he's not alone, an' the reptile has a bow with arrows enough to send us
all on a pretty long journey. But we've the trees to dodge behind. If
I only had _one_ dry charge!" and the disconcerted guide gave a look,
half of perplexity, half of contempt, at the dripping gun.
"Never mind," cried Charley; "we have our paddles.--But I forgot, Harry,
in all this confusion, that you are wounded, my poor fellow. We must
have it examined before doing anything further."
"Oh, it's nothing at all--a mere scratch, I think; at least I feel very
little pain."
As he spoke the twang of a bow was heard, and an arrow flew past
Jacques's ear.
"Ah, so soon!" exclaimed that worthy, with a look of surprise, as if he
had unexpectedly met with an old friend. Stepping behind a tree, he
motioned to his friends to do likewise; an example which they followed
somewhat hastily on beholding the Indian who had wounded Harry step from
the cover of the underwood and deliberately let fly another arrow, which
passed through the hair of the Canadian they had brought with them.
From the several trees behind which they had leaped for shelter they now
perceived that the Indian with the bow was Misconna, and that he was
accompanied by eight others; who appeared, however, to be totally
unarmed--having, probably, been obliged to leave their weapons behind
them, owing to the abruptness of their flight. Seeing that the white
men were unable to use their guns, the Indians assembled in a group, and
from the hasty and violent gesticulations of some of the party,
especially of Misconna, it was evident that a speedy attack was
intended.
Observing this, Jacques coolly left the shelter of his tree, and going
up to Charley, exclaimed, "Now, Mister Charles, I'm goin' to run away,
so you'd better come along with me."
"That I certainly will not. Why, what do you mean?" inquired the other,
in astonishment.
"I mean that these stupid redskins can't make up their minds what to do,
an' as I've no notion o' stoppin' here all day, I want to make them do
what will suit us best. You see, if they scatter through the wood and
attack us on all sides, they may give us a deal o' trouble, and git away
after all; whereas, if we run _away_, they'll bolt after us in a body,
and then we can take them in hand all at once, which'll be more
comfortable-like, an' easier to manage."
As Jacques spoke they were joined by Harry and the Canadian; and being
observed by the Indians thus grouped together, another arrow was sent
among them.
"Now, follow me," said Jacques, turning round with a loud howl and
running away. He was closely followed by the others. As the guide had
predicted, the Indians no sooner observed this than they rushed after
them in a body, uttering horrible yells.
"Now, then, stop here; down with you."
Jacques instantly crouched behind a bush, while each of the party did
the same. In a moment the savages came shouting up, supposing that the
white men were still running on in advance. As the foremost, a tall,
muscular fellow, with the agility of a panther, bounded over the bush
behind which Jacques was concealed, he was met with a blow from the
guide's fist, so powerfully delivered into the pit of his stomach, that
it sent him violently back into the bush, where he lay insensible. This
event, of course, put a check upon the headlong pursuit of the others,
who suddenly paused, like a group of infuriated tigers unexpectedly
balked of their prey. The hesitation, however, was but for a moment.
Misconna, who was in advance, suddenly drew his bow again, and let fly
an arrow at Jacques, which the latter dexterously avoided; and while his
antagonist lowered his eyes for an instant to fit another arrow to the
string, the guide, making use of his paddle as a sort of javelin, threw
it with such force and precision that it struck Misconna directly
between the eyes and felled him to the earth. In another instant the
two parties rushed upon each other, and a general _melee_, ensued, in
which the white men, being greatly superior to their adversaries in the
use of their fists, soon proved themselves more than a match for them
all, although inferior in numbers. Charley's first antagonist, making
an abortive attempt to grapple with him, received two rapid blows, one
on the chest and the other on the nose, which knocked him over the bank
into the river, while his conqueror sprang upon another Indian. Harry,
having unfortunately selected the biggest savage of the band as his
special property, rushed upon him and dealt him a vigorous blow on the
head with his paddle. The weapon, however, was made of light wood, and,
instead of felling him to the ground, broke into shivers. Springing
upon each other, they immediately engaged in a fierce struggle, in which
poor Harry learned, when too late, that his wounded shoulder was almost
powerless. Meanwhile, the Canadian, having been assaulted by three
Indians at once, floored one at the onset, and immediately began an
impromptu war-dance round the other two, dealing them occasionally a
kick or a blow, which would speedily have rendered them _hors de
combat_, had they not succeeded in closing upon him, when all three fell
heavily to the ground. Jacques and Charley, having succeeded in
overcoming their respective opponents, immediately hastened to his
rescue. In the meantime, Harry and his foe had struggled to a
considerable distance from the others, gradually edging towards the
river's bank. Feeling faint from his wound, the former at length sank
under the weight of his powerful antagonist, who endeavoured to thrust
him over a kind of cliff which they had approached. He was on the point
of accomplishing his purpose, when Charley and his friends perceived
Harry's imminent danger, and rushed to the rescue. Quickly though they
ran, however, it seemed likely that they would be too late. Harry's
head already overhung the bank, and the Indian was endeavouring to
loosen the gripe of the young man's hand from his throat, preparatory to
tossing him over, when a wild cry rang through the forest, followed by
the reports of a double-barrelled gun, fired in quick succession.
Immediately after, young Hamilton bounded like a deer down the slope,
seized the Indian by the legs, and tossed him over the cliff, where he
turned a complete somersault in his descent, and fell with a sounding
splash into the water.
"Well done, cleverly done, lad!" cried Jacques, as he and the rest of
the party came up and crowded round Harry, who lay in a state of partial
stupor on the bank.
At this moment Redfeather hastily but silently approached; his broad
chest was heaving heavily, and his expanded nostrils quivering with the
exertions he had made to reach the scene of action in time to succour
his friends.
"Thank God," said Hamilton, softly, as he kneeled beside Harry and
supported his head, while Charley bathed his temples--"thank God that I
have been in time! Fortunately I was walking by the river considerably
in advance of Redfeather, who was bringing up the canoe, when I heard
the sounds of the fray, and hastened to your aid."
At this moment Harry opened his eyes, and saying faintly that he felt
better, allowed himself to be raised to a sitting posture, while his
coat was removed and his wound examined. It was found to be a deep
flesh-wound in the shoulder, from which a fragment of the broken arrow
still protruded.
"It's a wonder to me, Mister Harry, how ye held on to that big thief so
long," muttered Jacques, as he drew out the splinter and bandaged up the
shoulder. Having completed the surgical operation after a rough
fashion, they collected the defeated Indians. Those of them that were
able to walk were bound together by the wrists and marched off to the
fort, under a guard which was strengthened by the arrival of several of
the fur-traders who had been in pursuit of the fugitives, and were
attracted to the spot by the shouts of the combatants. Harry and such
of the party as were more or less severely injured were placed in canoes
and conveyed to Stoney Creek by the lake, into which Duck River runs at
the distance of about half a mile from the spot on which the skirmish
had taken place. Misconna was among the latter.
On arriving at Stoney Creek, the canoe party found a large assemblage of
the natives awaiting them on the wharf, and no sooner did Misconna land
than they advanced to seize him.
"Keep back, friends," cried Jacques, who perceived their intentions, and
stepped hastily between them.--"Come here, lads," he continued, turning
to his companions; "surround Misconna. He is _our_ prisoner, and must
ha' fair justice done him, accordin' to white law."
They fell back in silence on observing the guide's determined manner;
but as they hurried the wretched culprit towards the house, one of the
Indians pressed close upon their rear, and before any one could prevent
him, dashed his tomahawk into Misconna's brain. Seeing that the blow
was mortal, the traders ceased to offer any further opposition; and the
Indians, rushing upon his body, bore it away, amid shouts and yells of
execration, to their canoes, to one of which the body was fastened by a
rope, and dragged through the water to a point of land that jutted out
into the lake near at hand. Here they lighted a fire and burned it to
ashes.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
There seems to be a period in the history of every one when the fair
aspect of this world is darkened--when everything, whether past,
present, or future, assumes a hue of the deepest gloom; a period when,
for the first time, the sun, which has shone in the mental firmament
with more or less brilliancy from childhood upwards, entirely disappears
behind a cloud of thick darkness, and leaves the soul in a state of deep
melancholy; a time when feelings somewhat akin to despair pervade us, as
we begin gradually to look upon the past as a bright, happy vision, out
of which we have at last awakened to view the sad realities of the
present, and look forward with sinking hope to the future. Various are
the causes which produce this, and diverse the effects of it on
differently constituted minds; but there are few, we apprehend, who have
not passed through the cloud in one or other of its phases, and who do
not feel that this _first_ period of prolonged sorrow is darker, and
heavier, and worse to bear, than many of the more truly grievous
afflictions that sooner or later fall to the lot of most men.
Into a state of mind somewhat similar to that which we have endeavoured
to describe our friend Charley Kennedy fell immediately after the events
just narrated. The sudden and awful death of his friend Mr Whyte fell
upon his young spirit, unaccustomed as he was to scenes of bloodshed and
violence, with overwhelming power. From the depression, however, which
naturally followed he would probably soon have rallied had not Harry
Somerville's wound in the shoulder taken an unfavourable turn, and
obliged him to remain for many weeks in bed, under the influence of a
slow fever; so that Charley felt a desolation creeping over his soul
that no effort he was capable of making could shake off. It is true he
found both occupation and pleasure in attending upon his sick friend;
but as Harry's illness rendered great quiet necessary, and as Hamilton
had been sent to take charge of the fishing-station mentioned in a
former chapter, Charley was obliged to indulge his gloomy reveries in
silence. To add to his wretchedness, he received a letter from Kate
about a week after Mr Whyte's burial, telling him of the death of his
mother.
Meanwhile, Redfeather and Jacques--both of whom, at their young master's
earnest solicitation, agreed to winter at Stoney Creek--cultivated each
other's acquaintance sedulously. There were no books of any kind at the
outpost, excepting three Bibles--one belonging to Charley, and one to
Harry, the third being that which had been presented to Jacques by Mr
Conway the missionary. This single volume, however, proved to be an
ample library to Jacques and his Indian friend. Neither of these sons
of the forest was much accustomed to reading, and neither of them would
have for a moment entertained the idea of taking to literature as a
pastime; but Redfeather loved the Bible for the sake of the great truths
which he discovered in its inspired pages, though much of what he read
was to him mysterious and utterly incomprehensible. Jacques, on the
other hand, read it, or listened to his friend, with that philosophic
gravity of countenance and earnestness of purpose which he displayed in
regard to everything; and deep, serious, and protracted were the
discussions they plunged into, as night after night they sat on a log,
with the Bible spread out before them, and read by the light of the
blazing fire in the men's house at Stoney Creek. Their intercourse,
however, was brought to an abrupt conclusion by the unexpected arrival,
one day, of Mr Conway, the missionary, in his tin canoe. This
gentleman's appearance was most welcome to all parties. It was like a
bright ray of sunshine to Charley to meet with one who could fully
sympathise with him in his present sorrowful frame of mind. It was an
event of some consequence to Harry Somerville, inasmuch as it provided
him with an amateur doctor who really understood somewhat of his
physical complaint, and was able to pour balm, at once literally and
spiritually, into his wounds. It was an event productive of the
liveliest satisfaction to Redfeather, who now felt assured that his
tribe would have those mysteries explained which he only imperfectly
understood himself; and it was an event of much rejoicing to the Indians
themselves because their curiosity had been not a little roused by what
they heard of the doings and sayings of the white missionary, who lived
on the borders of the great lake. The only person, perhaps, on whom Mr
Conway's arrival acted with other than a pleasing influence was Jacques
Caradoc. This worthy, although glad to meet with a man whom he felt
inclined both to love and respect, was by no means gratified to find
that his friend Redfeather had agreed to go with the missionary on his
visit to the Indian tribe, and thereafter to accompany him to the
settlement on Playgreen Lake. But with the stoicism that was natural to
him, Jacques submitted to circumstances which he could not alter, and
contented himself with assuring Redfeather that if he lived till next
spring he would most certainly "make tracks for the great lake," and
settle down at the missionary's station along with him. This promise
was made at the end of the wharf of Stoney Creek the morning on which
Mr Conway and his party embarked in their tin canoe--the same tin canoe
at which Jacques had curled his nose contemptuously when he saw it in
process of being constructed, and at which he did not by any means curl
it the less contemptuously now that he saw it finished. The little
craft answered its purpose marvellously well, however, and bounded
lightly away under the vigorous strokes of its crew, leaving Charley and
Jacques on the pier gazing wistfully after their friends, and listening
sadly to the echoes of their parting song as it floated more and more
faintly over the lake.
Winter came, but no ray of sunshine broke through the dark cloud that
hung over Stoney Creek. Harry Somerville, instead of becoming better,
grew worse and worse every day, so that when Charley dispatched the
winter packet, he represented the illness of his friend to the powers at
headquarters as being of a nature that required serious and immediate
attention and change of scene. But the word _immediate_ bears a
slightly different signification in the backwoods to what it does in the
lands of railroads and steamboats. The letter containing this hint took
many weeks to traverse the waste wilderness to its destination; months
passed before the reply was written, and many weeks more elapsed ere its
contents were perused by Charley and his friend. When they did read it,
however, the dark cloud that had hung over them so long burst at last; a
ray of sunshine streamed down brightly upon their hearts, and never
forsook them again, although it did lose a little of its brilliancy
after the first flash. It was on a rich, dewy, cheerful morning in
early spring that the packet arrived, and Charley led Harry, who was
slowly recovering his wonted health and spirits, to their favourite
rocky resting-place on the margin of the lake. Here he placed the
letter in his friend's hand with a smile of genuine delight. It ran as
follows:--
MY DEAR SIR,--Your letter containing the account of Mr Somerville's
illness has been forwarded to me, and I am instructed to inform you
that leave of absence for a short time has been granted to him. I
have had a conversation with the doctor here, who advises me to
recommend that, if your friend has no other summer residence in view,
he should spend part of his time in Red River settlement. In the
event of his agreeing to this, I would suggest that he should leave
Stoney Creek with the first brigade in spring, or by express canoe if
you think it advisable. I am, etcetera.
"Short but sweet--uncommonly sweet!" said Harry, as a deep flush of joy
crimsoned his pale cheeks, while his own merry smile, that had been
absent for many a weary day, returned once more to its old haunt, and
danced round its accustomed dimples like a repentant wanderer who has
been long absent from and has at last returned to his native home.
"Sweet indeed!" echoed Charley. "But that's not all; here's another
lump of sugar for you." So saying, he pulled a letter from his pocket,
unfolded it slowly, spread it out on his knee, and, looking up at his
expectant friend, winked.
"Go on, Charley; pray, don't tantalise me."
"Tantalise you! My dear fellow, nothing is farther from my thoughts.
Listen to this paragraph in my dear old father's letter:--
"`So you see, my dear Charley, that we have managed to get you
appointed to the charge of Lower Fort Garry; and as I hear that poor
Harry Somerville is to get leave of absence, you had better bring him
along with you. I need not add that my house is at his service as
long as he may wish to remain in it.'
"There! what think ye of that, my boy?" said Charley, as he folded the
letter and returned it to his pocket.
"I think," replied Harry, "that your father is a dear old gentleman, and
I hope that you'll only be half as good when you come to his time of
life; and I think I'm so happy to-day that I'll be able to walk without
the assistance of your arm to-morrow; and I think we had better go beck
to the house now, for I feel, oddly enough, as tired as if I had had a
long walk. Ah, Charley, my dear fellow, that letter will prove to be
the best doctor I have had yet. But now tell me what you intend to do."
Charley assisted his friend to rise, and led him slowly back to the
house, as he replied--
"Do, my boy? That's soon said. I'll make things square and straight at
Stoney Creek. I'll send for Hamilton, and make him interim
commander-in-chief. I'll write two letters--one to the gentleman in
charge of the district, telling him of my movements; the other
(containing a screed of formal instructions) to the miserable mortal who
shall succeed me here. I'll take the best canoe in our store, load it
with provisions, put you carefully in the middle of it, stick Jacques in
the bow and myself in the stern, and start, two weeks hence, neck and
crop, head over heels, through thick and thin, wet and dry, over
portage, river, fall, and lake, for Red River settlement!"