DOUBLE DEALING.
The Dutch master had played his game of duplicity with no little skill.
His arrogant attitude towards the head men of the fortress, his
outspoken hatred for the wild north land and its uncivilised
inhabitants, his outward indolence and distaste for fighting, were all
subtle moves towards the object he had in view. The culminating stroke
of practically disarming his ship by sending out thirty of his best men
upon a hunting expedition was, he considered, a veritable inspiration
of genius. The plan had indeed succeeded in its purpose of hoodwinking
the French, and Van Vuren was satisfied, because he knew nothing of the
venturers who had discovered his plans and were preparing to strike a
blow against him for the glory of their country and themselves.
Six men were admitted into their leader's confidence, and five of these
only at the last hour. Everything seemed to favour the enterprise.
The night which had been chosen for the council between Van Vuren and
the headmen of the Iroquois was very dark. No sound came from the
sleeping fortress; not a light was showing upon the French ship. The
usual sentries were posted, but the darkness was too impenetrable for
the keenest sight to carry more than a few yards. Van Vuren stepped to
the side of his ship, listened intently for some minutes, and when the
silence remained unbroken whispered an order, and the five picked men
clambered down a ladder and guided their feet into a boat which rode
alongside. The master followed, the boat was pushed off, and floating
down stream swung rapidly round the bend.
"To your oars," muttered Van Vuren.
The black water began to trickle gleefully under the bows, the rowers
dropping their blades cautiously and lifting them high to avoid a
splash. Soon a spark of light broke out upon the shore, at no great
distance from the falls of Montmorenci, where the river of that name
discharges into the mightier stream. Swinging the tiller round, Van
Vuren aimed the boat towards that light.
Beside the fire awaited them a stout Dutchman, who had lived in New
Netherlands among the Indians on the banks of the Schuylkill and there
had learnt the language, and with him was an Indian squatting upon his
haunches. The latter was naked to the waist; a round beaver cap came
low over his forehead, and long hair streamed down his cheeks. His
body shone like polished mahogany as the firelight played across it.
He rose when Van Vuren approached, and remarked upon the exceeding
blackness of the night, and the stout Dutchman answered in the native
tongue, "It is well."
After drawing their boat up the shore and putting out the fire, the men
listened again for any sounds of hostile movements, and when Van Vuren
was reassured as to their safety the party set off along an
imperceptible trail, following their Cayuga guide, who strode rapidly
towards the cover of the forest.
At the end of an hour's march they drew near the camp and perceived the
glow of the council fire. The boles of the trees became ruddy, and
they smelt the acrid smoke which curled upward in wreaths to find an
outlet through the solid-looking roof of foliage, There was no
vegetation below. Splintered stumps projected stiffly from the
conifers; sometimes a fallen trunk lay across the way; the peaty ground
was soft with pine needles. A fox barked monotonously in the distance.
Occasionally a gust of wind passed with a sigh and a gentle straining
at the mast-like firs.
The party stepped into a clearing, and Van Vuren halted nervously,
tightening the sash which secured his doublet at the waist. Nine men
appeared before him, seated under a protection of skins stretched
tightly across a framework of boughs, the whole forming a lean-to which
might readily be moved, either to break the force of the wind or to
afford shelter from rain. The men squatted cross-legged, the majority
naked to the waist and shining with fish-oil, a few wrapped in
blankets, the heads of all covered with fur caps adorned with pieces of
white metal or black feathers. Only one man was painted, and he showed
nothing more than a triangular patch of red upon his forehead, the apex
of the triangle making a line with the bridge of his nose. This man
was smoking, and did not put down his pipe when the strangers arrived.
The smoking was indeed a compliment, being the symbolic pipe of peace.
The nine were sachems of the great Iroquois tribes who in combination
held the north of the continent: the Cayugas, Oneidas, Mohawks,
Onondagas, and Senacas. The smoker was Shuswap, headman of the
Cayugas, father of Onawa and Tuschota, and the chief doctor, one who
professed to understand the language of the beasts, and knew how to
hold communion with the dead. He looked up, drawing the stem of his
pipe from his thin lips, and spoke:
"Do the white men, who come to us from the world where the sun never
shines, speak to us now words of peace or of war?"
Van Vuren moved awkwardly when he saw the grave hairless faces peering
at him through the hot vapour of the fire. At that moment the fat
sailor from New Netherlands reached the clearing, panting like a dog.
He presently interpreted the question, and his leader answered: "Tell
the chief that we come from a world where the days are long, and where
the same sun that warms this country shines from morn till night."
"That were waste of breath," muttered the seaman, who had none to
spare, and he said instead to the council of nine: "The white chief has
come in peace to seek the aid of the sun's children that he may
overthrow his enemies."
"A people have taken my children to be their servants," said Shuswap.
"That people armed the enemies of my race against me. Is the white man
friendly with that people?"
"The French of whom the great sachem speaks are my enemies also,"
replied Van Vuren through the interpreter. "I would drive them from
the land, and dwell here in peace beside my allies the great tribes of
the Iroquois."
The crafty Dutchman reflected that, when the flag of the Netherlands
waved over the heights, it would be easy to hold the Indians in the
forest with a warship upon the St. Lawrence and a few cannon frowning
from the cliff.
"The white man has called us into council," went on Shuswap. "What
does he ask of us?"
At that the Hollander played his hand boldly. "I ask you to send your
fighting-men against the French when I give the signal. I will sink
the provision ship which lies upon the river, while your men sweep over
the heights and capture the fortress. So shall you be avenged upon
your enemies, the men who armed the Algonquins against you."
"It is well said," answered the council of nine.
"What signal will you give, that we may know when to make our attack?"
said Shuswap.
"A raft of fire floating down the river."
The headman removed his eyes from the Dutchman and turned to consult
his colleagues. They conferred for some minutes, without passion,
without animation, apparently with no feeling of interest. Their faces
were set, and they spoke with only faint motions of their lips.
"We will bring our children," said the old sachem at last. "When the
fire is seen along the Father of Waters we shall make ourselves ready."
He bent forward, raised a short stick from the centre of the council
fire, and held it out in his brown fingers, then dashed the brand
suddenly upon the ground, and dreamily watched the upward flight of
sparks.
"So let our enemies fly before us," he muttered.
"The sparks fly outward," said the sachem of the Oneidas.
"The Frenchmen shall not be able to stand before the children of the
sun," they muttered with one voice.
The pipe was passed round with terrible solemnity, every Indian and
Dutchman drawing once at the stem and handing it to his neighbour, and
then the Hollanders left the clearing to return, well satisfied with
their night's work.
It wanted yet three hours to the first breaking of the dawn, and the
night was as dark as ever when the seven men came out upon the rocks,
where they could hear the faint whisper of the river. There the Indian
guide left them, and the Dutchmen, flushed with success, laughed and
talked loudly, knowing that they were separated from the hearing of the
French settlement by more than a mile of rock and bush. Advancing in
single file, they came to the thicket of willow beside which they had
left their boat.
"Is all well?" called Van Vuren, who walked at the end of the line.
As he spoke there fell a storm out of the night; a thunder of voices;
the lightning of flashing swords; a rush of dark bodies around the
boat. In the thick darkness all became confusion on the side of the
attacked.
"English!" shouted Van Vuren; and, as the long body of the Puritan
descended upon him, the master turned and fled, without honour, but
with a whole skin. Only the stout seaman shared his leader's privilege
of a run for his life, but him the far-striding legs of Hough pursued,
covering two feet to the Dutchman's one. The wretch sweated and
groaned as he flung out his aching legs, his great body heaving and
staggering as cold as ice. He swore and prayed to God in one breath.
He promised a life of service to the Deity, a treasure in the Indies to
the pursuer; but prayer and promise availed him little. The mutilated
man pressed upon him, and it was only the almost tangible darkness
which prolonged his life for a few more agonised seconds. Then Hough
bounded within reach, lunged fairly, pressing home when he felt flesh,
and the fat Dutchman emitted a violent yell, and his big carcase rolled
upon the rocks, his head settled, his mouth grinned spasmodically, his
limbs twitched, and then he lay at ease, staring more blindly than ever
into the night. Out of the six conspirators who had set forth that
night, Van Vuren was the only man to escape with his life.
"Cast me these bodies into the river," said Penfold, wiping his sword.
"But, stay. It were a pity to waste so much good clothing. Strip them
first, lads. Naked they came into the world, and naked let them go
out."
The bodies were denuded of their clothes and weapons. Five splashes
shivered the face of the river, and then the Englishmen laid hands upon
the boat and drew her down to the water. But an idea had occurred to
Penfold, and he called a halt.
"We have the current to row against, and the night may break before we
reach the ship," he said. "Let us disguise ourselves, so that French
and Dutch alike may regard us as friends in the dimness of the morning.
Here are five suits of Dutch clothing. There are five of us. We shall
fight the easier in such loose-fitting trunks."
"Methinks they that fear the Lord have no need to adopt a cunning
device," protested the Puritan.
"What know we about the ways of the Lord?" said his leader. "Does the
Lord grant the victory to him who runs? Does He not rather send him a
sword into his coward's back? The Lord, I tell you, helps that man who
is the most subtle in devising schemes through which he may overthrow
his enemies. A murrain on these garments! I shall be as a child when
he has put on his father's trappings for the bravery of the show."
Already a grey-dark mist spread along the river where the night clouds
were dissolving at the first light touch of the fingers of the day.
The adventurers had but an hour for their project before the coming of
the first light.