THE MIGHTY ONE.
"What is it, Davie?" called the soft voice of Ruth, awaking me from
my horrified stupor.
"Wait," I made hoarse answer, still dazed by my startling discovery.
Looking closer at that figure before me, I saw that it was as if
cased in ice, and as something splashed on my neck I knew that the
rock-drippings from above had covered it. With trembling fingers I
wiped the sweat from my brow, then caught at the sheet of paper
before me and incontinently fled.
The horror of it unnerved me, and must have shown in my face.
Gradually I told the others of what I had seen, and Radisson started
up on his elbow, his old face alight with a great amazement and joy.
"The paper, lad--the paper!" he cried out. "Hendrik Hudson--ah, but
this is the greatest discovery of all! Naught matters now--for I
have goodly company on the Ghost-trail! Read the paper, lad!"
I held down the dry paper--for it seemed to have escaped those
drippings, by some trick of Fate--to the light, and with Ruth peering
over my shoulder made shift to read the words written there in
English. It was in the same hand which had written in the Bible, and
the two lie here before me now. It seemed to be one of other sheets,
for at the top it was numbered in Roman.
"XI
shall beeware how you doe deal my Truste. In Time shall come
Them of mine own Race, to whom doe I graunt all thyngs Herein.
This bee a rich laund & worthe ye keeping for Britain. Soe now
farewell. I grow weak.
Henry Hudson."
I looked up from the paper amazed, and met the exultant eyes of
Radisson fixed upon me. The old man clutched at the scrap and held
it to him fiercely.
"Radisson has won again!" he exclaimed, his dark eyes shining bright.
"I have found a new country and with it Henry Hudson--ah, get you
outside, lad! Take the fusils with you, and keep guard! I had
forgot our danger, and the night must be coming on. They will trail
us here, for The Pike must know the place. Yet it is strange that he
knew naught of the passage through the hills behind!"
I loaded the fusils afresh and left him in the care of Ruth. When I
gained the entrance to the cave I saw that it must have fallen dark
outside, yet the mouth of the passage from the ridge was lit by the
fires in the sky, which seemed faintly ablaze. As I set down the
guns and drew my furs about me, shivering in the bitterness of the
cold, I was thankful that at least I was sheltered from that great
wind that tore down through the gap moaning and shrieking.
Where had that moose-track come from? It seemed hard to believe that
the mighty animal had passed from woods to ridge, and so on into the
passage without having been seen by any. Yet it must have been even
so, for the trail was a fresh one, and I wondered at the thing.
With it all I was mightily afraid, nor hesitated to admit it to
myself. The death of The Keeper had been a great shock to me, and
the finding of Hudson, the mere knowing that his earthly form lay in
that cave behind me, was horrible. The fearsomeness of that
passageway through the cliffs, lying so dark and ghostly in front of
me, added in no small degree to my shakings of soul.
And to cap all, Radisson lay stricken mortally. This I guessed from
his manner of speaking and from the fact that he would not allow us
to care for his wound. The great wonder of the whole thing, from the
trail of the Mighty One to the martyrdom of the Mohawk, oppressed me,
and I remembered how The Keeper had prophesied that he would not go
on the spirit-trail alone.
Then I fell to thinking of Hudson. So the little boat had not been
lost, as all men had thought, but had reached land. Who might know
the tale of all that had happened? The stout seaman must have seen
his friends and his son perish one by one, yet have struggled on to
the west until he had come to the Ghost Hills and found there the
rest denied him in life.
So I sat there half in dream, thinking bitterly on what was to be the
end of it all. For myself I cared little, but I could not see Ruth
in red hands. Why did not Swift Arrow and Uchichak arrive? Almost
on the thought, it seemed that a dark shadow flitted down through the
pass, whereat I caught up one of the guns and cried out.
"It is Ca-yen-gui-ha-no," came the voice of the Mohawk. "Where is my
brother?"
"Here," I shouted, great relief in my heart, and had like to fling my
arms about the tall old man as he clambered up to me. "But
Uchichak--where are the Crees? We are in sore need, Swift Arrow!"
"They come," he grunted in surprise as he saw where I stood. "The
Mighty One met us. I fired and drove him back. The Crees are slow.
Swift Arrow came on quickly, and passed the Mighty One, who follows
behind me."
He peered about, and I motioned him back into the cave, whither he
vanished. A moment later there came a yell from the mouth of the
gap, and I knew that the Chippewas were upon me. A number of dark
shapes flitted across the opening, a hundred paces away, and I fired
at one of these, the echoes rolling up and up in weird echoes of
sound.
"Let my brother load," and Swift Arrow stood beside me again. "I
will shoot."
Cheerfully enough I resigned my place to him. Now came two shots,
and the bullets pattered on the cliffs behind. But to reach us the
Chippewas would have to cross that open gully where lay the deep,
hard snow, and even in the half-light from the closed-out skies their
figures would show plainly against the white snow. And we had four
guns, with a good store of powder and balls close to hand.
After those first shots, there came no sign of danger, but I knew
that the cunning brain of The Pike would not rest idle for long. The
Chippewas could not reach us from below without making a straight
charge, which they would have little stomach for, and they could not
get at us from above, since those high walls of granite could hardly
be scaled.
Yet Gib solved the problem, for presently a musket roared over
against us on the opposite side of the cliffs, and a bullet whistled
into the cleft behind. There was no danger that those within the
cavern could be injured, by reason of the twists in the passage, but
the mouth of the cave where we lay could be raked easily enough, and
the Arrow grunted.
"We must hit or be hit, Brave Eyes," and he laid his fusil in rest,
aiming at the place whence had come the flash. A moment later it
came again, but the Arrow fired almost with it. A single yell echoed
up, and thereafter came no more shots from across the way.
"Think you they will try to rush upon us?" I whispered fearfully.
"They are women," he grunted disdainfully. "The Mighty One will
scatter them."
"How mean you? Where is the moose?"
"He is near. The Crane will drive him before, and when he comes the
Chippewas will scatter from before him."
Then I remembered what the Mohawk had first said, upon his arrival.
He had met the moose traveling toward the open country, and had
driven him back toward us, passing him later as he hurried on ahead
of the Crees. But soon I had other things to bother my head with
than the moose.
For as we lay watching, something came down from the skies and
shattered on the rocks beside me. Feeling about, I found that it had
been an arrow, and now we were in grave danger indeed. If we
withdrew under the shelter of the cave, we would lose sight of that
open gully beneath us; but if we lay there without covering above,
the Chippewa arrows could descend full upon us. Gib was having his
men shoot straight up, so that the arrows would fall with fearful
force, and against such shooting we were defenseless.
They pattered down all around, shattering on the rock and yet seeming
to miss us altogether. Before long the Mohawk, who had refused to
listen to my word that we should seek shelter inside the cave and
defend its mouth, began to chant something in a low voice that
swelled louder and louder. A wild, barbaric chant it was, in words
that I knew not, but ever and anon he would lift one of the fusils
and shoot, though I could see no object at which to aim. When his
chant died down again I asked him the meaning of it.
"I go on the Ghost-trail, my brother," he responded after a moment.
"The Chippewa arrows are very sharp, and the Great Spirit has called
me. I hear the voice of the Keeper of the Eastern Door. He asks me
why I wait. I am waiting for my father the White Eagle, oh
Ta-cha-noon-tia!" With which he trailed off into his own tongue once
more and paid no further heed to me.
I knew not whether he had been struck with one of those falling
arrows, for he had made no sign. A moment later he pressed a fusil
into my hands.
"They come, brother! Be ready!"
I loaded it as rapidly as might be, but had not finished when a great
yell went up from the darkness, and across the snow came the
Chippewas--dark splotches that seemed to leap over the white ground.
The Arrow waited, and then when they seemed to be almost upon us, he
began firing. One after another of the foremost figures went down,
and I managed to get the first gun to him as he fired the fourth.
Before that rain of lead the Chippewas broke and fled, but I heard
the voice of Gib ring out, and knew that he was still unharmed. When
the muskets were once more loaded, I left the ledge for an instant,
and ran back to the cave, in order to reassure Ruth. I found her and
Radisson just as I had left them, on the pile of skins, and although
the fire had died down, there was plenty of wood in the cave from
which to replenish it. In a few words I told them of the repulse.
"And Swift Arrow?" demanded Radisson quickly. "Why was he singing
the death-chant? Is he also hurt?
"I know not," was my hesitating answer, and the tears could not be
kept back--nor were they the tears of a boy. "He is waiting for you,
he said."
"Ah! Then he will not have long to wait, methinks," Radisson
breathed, holding the hand of Ruth. At sight of Grim I bethought me
that he might well prove of service, and so I called him to follow me
out to the front of the cave.
"Ready!" thrilled a sharp whisper from Swift Arrow, who had the guns
close to his hand. Grim growled. This time the attack came with no
forewarning until we saw the approach of the Chippewas, creeping
stealthily forward through the snow. But as they came, arrows
pattered around us from those behind, who covered their advance.
And this time, there was no stopping them. Five times did the Arrow
fire, but then came a rush, and he had but time to draw his knife and
put his tomahawk ready. I caught up one of the heavy fusils and
swung it about my head, and then they were upon us--a mad swirl of
men who seemed to spring out of the darkness and up the path to our
ledge.
Now, when it came to hand-to-hand fighting, my great strength proved
its worth. The Arrow had crawled to my side, and as only one or two
men could reach us at a time, we managed to fling them back with
gun-butt and tomahawk, while the shrill yell of the Mohawk rose madly
over the shrieks of the Chippewas.
Time after time my heavy piece rose and fell, sometimes parried and
sometimes not, while at my side glittered the steel of the old chief,
rapid and deadly; but ever the voice of Gib urged on the warriors,
and ever they pressed up that narrow path in mad resolve. On a
sudden I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, and the fusil dashed out
of my hands against the rock wall as I staggered back.
An instant, and I had pulled out the knife with a shudder of pain,
but that instant had been well-nigh fatal, for the Chippewas poured
over us. Then, while I was still faint with the shock and the pain
came Grim to the fore. Swift Arrow had risen to his feet, still
plying his deadly steel desperately, when the great sheep-dog
crouched and sprang, snarling and tearing in the midst of them
beneath us.
The Chippewas fell back before him in wild affright, leaving two of
their number at handgrips with us. One of these went down under the
knife of the Mohawk; the other I seized by the throat and dashed back
against the rock, where he lay silent. Then I whistled sharp and
shrill, and Grim came back to me--bleeding and torn, but still not
hurt unto death. So near had they come to taking us, that but for
him we had assuredly perished.
But the Chippewas had not retreated far, and the evil tones of Gib
showed me where he stood out there on the snow. The Arrow had fallen
forward against the rock, helpless; when next they charged, his aid
would be of no avail. And the blood was running fast from my
shoulder, as I reloaded one of the weapons.
Gib was standing out in the center of the pass, and of a sudden I
heard what seemed to be a bellow of rage, followed by a wild shriek
from the Chippewas. Turning, I saw a mighty form leaping through the
darkness--great horns outspread, giant shoulders rising high over the
group of warriors, huge hoofs striking to right and left. In the dim
light, I thought I saw Gib raise a musket, and for an instant the
flash of it showed me the Mighty One himself, poised high in air as
he leaped upon the terror-struck men.
Then all went dark again. One horrible, long-drawn shriek wailed out
down the great cliffs as I raised my musket and aimed at the huge
shape below, from which men fled every way. I fired, and saw it
stumble forward over a smaller form in the snow; then I felt the
faintness of my wound come upon me again, and had but strength enough
to stagger back through the cave, meet the staring eyes of Radisson,
and fall at the feet of Ruth. But as I fell, I heard from without
the war-cry of Uchichak, and knew that the Mighty One had saved us;
then I fell asleep, with the tongue of Grim hot on my cheek.