While Robin Gore and his companions were anxiously searching the woods
around Fort Enterprise for the lost children, a war-party of savages was
making its way swiftly towards the Fort.
A chief of the Indians, named Hawk, who was a shrewd as well as a bad
man, had suspected Wapaw's intentions in quitting the camp of his people
alone and in such unnecessary haste. This man had great influence over
his fellows, and easily prevailed on them to set off on their murderous
expedition against the Fort of the "pale-faces" without delay.
Being well supplied with food, they travelled faster than their starving
comrade, and almost overtook him. They finally encamped within a short
distance of the Fort the day after Wapaw's arrival, and prepared to
assault it early next morning.
"If the wicked skunk has got there before us," said Hawk to his fellows,
as they prepared to set out before daybreak, "the pale-faces will be
ready for us, and we may as well go back to our wigwams at once; but if
that badger's whelp has been slow of foot, we shall hang the scalps of
the pale-faces at our belts, and eat their food this day."
The polite titles above used by Hawk were meant to refer to Wapaw.
Indians are not naturally loquacious. No reply was made to Hawk's
remark, except that one man with a blackened face, and a streak of red
ochre down the bridge of his nose, said, "Ho!" and another with an
equally black face, and three red streaks on each of his cheeks, said,
"Hum!" as the war-party put on their snowshoes and prepared to start.
They had not gone far when Hawk came to a sudden pause, and stood
transfixed and motionless like a dark statue. His comrades also stopped
abruptly and crouched. No question was asked, but Hawk pointed to a
spark of fire, which every Indian in the band had observed the instant
their leader had paused. Silently they crept forward, with guns cocked
and arrows fitted to the bowstrings, until they all stood round an
encampment where the fire was still smouldering, and in the centre of
which lay a little boy and girl, fast asleep and shuddering with cold.
Poor Roy and Nelly had told each other stories until their eyes would
not remain open; then they fell asleep, despite their efforts to keep
awake, and, as the fire sank low, they began to shiver with the cold.
Lucky was it for them that the Indians discovered them, else they had
certainly been frozen to death that night.
Hawk roused them with little ceremony. Roy, by an impulse which would
appear to be natural to those who dwell in wild countries, whether young
or old, seized his axe, which lay beside him, as he leaped up. Hawk
grinned, and took the axe from him at once, and the poor boy, seeing
that he was surrounded by dark warriors, offered no resistance, but
sought to comfort Nelly, who was clinging to him and trembling with
terror.
Immediately the savages sat down in the encampment, and began an earnest
discussion, which the children watched with great eagerness. They
evidently did not agree, for much gesticulation and great vehemence
characterised their debate. Some pointed towards the Fort, and touched
their tomahawks, while others pointed to the woods in the direction
whence they had come, and shook their heads. Not a few drew their
scalping knives partially from their sheaths, and, pointing to the
children, showed clearly that they wished to cut their career short
without delay, but several of the more sedate members of the party
evidently objected to this. Finally, Hawk turned to Roy, and said
something to him in the Indian tongue.
Roy did not understand, and attempted to say so as well as he could by
signs, and the use of the few words of the Cree language which his
father had taught him. In the course of his speech (if we may use that
term), he chanced to mention Wapaw's name.
"Ho! ho! ho!" said one and another of the Indians, while Hawk grinned
horribly.
A variety of questions were now put to poor Roy, who, not understanding,
of course could not answer them. Hawk, however, repeated Wapaw's name,
and pointed towards the Fort with a look of inquiry, to which Roy
replied by nodding his head and repeating "Wapaw" once or twice, also
pointing to the Fort; for he began to suspect these must be Wapaw's
comrades, who had come to search for him. He therefore volunteered a
little additional information by means of signs; rubbed his stomach,
looked dreadfully rueful, rolled himself as if in agony on the ground,
and then, getting up, pretended to eat and look happy! By all of which
he meant to show how that Wapaw had been on the borders of starvation,
but had been happily saved therefrom.
Indians in council might teach a useful lesson to our members of
parliament, for they witnessed this rather laughable species of
pantomime with profound gravity and silence. When Roy concluded, they
nodded their heads, and said, "Ho! ho!" which, no doubt, was equivalent
to "Hear hear!"
After a little more discussion they rose to depart, and made signs to
the children to get up and follow. Roy then pointed out the broken
state of his snow-shoe, but this difficulty was overcome by Hawk, who
threw it away, and made him put on his sister's snow-shoes. A stout
young warrior was ordered to take Nelly on his back, which he did
without delay, and the whole party left the encampment, headed by their
chief.
The children submitted cheerfully at first, under the impression that
the Indians meant to convey them to the Fort. Great, however, was their
horror when they were taken through the woods by a way which they knew
to be quite in the opposite direction.
When Roy saw this he stopped and looked back, but an Indian behind him
gave him a poke with the butt of his gun, which there was no resisting.
For a moment the lad thought of trying to break away, run home, and tell
his father of Nelly's fate; but a second thought convinced him that this
course was utterly impracticable. As for Nelly, she was too far from
her brother in the procession to hold converse with him; and, as she
knew not what to do, say, think, she was reduced to the miserable
consolation of bedewing with her tears the shoulders of the young
warrior who carried her.
The storm which had commenced the day before still continued, so that,
in the course of a few hours, traces of the track of the war-party were
almost obliterated, and the chance of their being followed by Robin and
his friends was rendered less and less likely as time ran on.
All that day they travelled without halt, and when they stopped at night
to encamp, Roy was nearly dead from exhaustion. "My poor Nell," said
he, drawing his sobbing sister close to him, as they sat near the camp
fire, after having eaten the small quantity of dried venison that was
thrown to them by their captors, "don't despair; father will be sure to
hunt us down, if it's in the power of man to do it."
"I don't despair," sobbed Nelly; "but oh! what will darling mother do
when she finds that we're lost, and I'm so afraid they'll kill us."
"No fear o' that, Nell; it's not worth their while. Remember, too, what
mother often told us--that--that--what is it she used to read so often
out of the Bible? I forget."
"I think it was, `Call upon Me in the time of trouble, and I will
deliver thee.' I've been thinkin' of that, Roy, already."
"That's right, Nell; now, come, cheer up! Have you had enough to eat?"
"Yes," said Nelly, with a loud yawn, which she did not attempt to check.
Roy echoed it, as a matter of course, (who ever did see anyone yawn
without following suit?) and then the two lay down together, spread over
themselves an old blanket which one of the Indians had given them, and
fell asleep at once.
Day succeeded day, night followed night, and weeks came and went, yet
the Indians continued their journey through the snow-clad wilderness.
Roy's snow-shoes had been picked up and repaired by one of the savages,
and Nelly was made to walk a good deal on her own snowshoes; but it is
justice to the Indians to say that they slackened their pace a little
for the sake of the children, and when Nelly showed symptoms of being
fatigued, the stout young warrior who originally carried her took her on
his shoulders.
At length the encampment of the tribe was reached, and Nelly was handed
over to Hawk's wife to be her slave. Soon after that, the tents were
struck, and the whole tribe went deeper into the northern wilds.
Several gales arose and passed away, completely covering their
footprints, so that no tracks were left behind them.