HOW PIERRE RADISSON SLEPT.
When I woke, it was in the midst of a grave silence. That may scarce
mean sense, yet to the full it expresses the feeling that came upon
me when I opened my eyes and looked about me. I was sitting against
the cave wall, Ruth at my side, and Grim, his great honest dog's eyes
full of pain, crouching and looking up at me.
Now the little cave was full of light and men--Uchichak and other
chiefs of the Crees, who were standing silent before me, while the
light smoke from the dry wood drove past us in the draught. Ruth was
bathing my face with water, but I pushed her hand away. This silence
among so many boded ill, and oppressed me strangely. I remembered
Radisson, and sought for him through the crowding forms.
He was sitting against the wall, with the Swift Arrow at his side,
their hands clasped. But, although the Mohawk was well-nigh gone,
never had Radisson's face seemed happier, younger and nobler. Hope
leaped into my heart that he had not been as sore stricken as we had
thought.
Ruth helped me to my feet. We went over and sat beside him. His
hand closed on ours, and he smiled kindly on Ruth.
"Well does the Great Swift Arrow deserve his name," he said softly,
so that the dying eyes of the old chief lit up. "He brought Uchichak
to us and sped on ahead of him, and so saved us all."
"Then you are not so badly hurt?" I exclaimed joyfully. Radisson
chuckled, and made answer in his old rich, laughing voice.
"Hurt? Why, lad, I have triumphed! The Keeper, the Swift Arrow and
I will travel the last trail together ere long, but see!" And he
waved the paper of Hudson aloft as might a boy, then his eyes went to
the Cree chiefs, and he spoke in their own tongue.
"My brothers, White Eagle goes upon the spirit-trail. But first he
would tell you that in the days to come, white men shall arrive among
you. Do not make war upon them, my brothers. They will trade with
you for your furs, and will bring much good to you. Will you
remember this?"
"We will remember," answered The Crane gravely, and a murmur passed
around among the other chiefs. The head of Swift Arrow suddenly sank
forward and his hand dropped from that of Radisson. The Mohawk had
not waited.
Radisson's face never changed as he asked the Crees how the fight had
gone, and if Gib had been slain, and then drew Ruth and me down to
him while he waited the answer.
"My father," said Uchichak slowly, "the Crees did not fight, for the
enemy had gone. The Mighty One had fought for us and scattered them.
But--" and he hesitated an instant, "as we came near, a gun was fired
from the cave, and lightning shot across the snow. When we had
sought the Chippewas, we found the Mighty One lying dead, and beneath
his hoofs was the form of The Pike."
Uchichak paused. With a little shudder I remembered how I had seen
the giant moose uprearing and striking out with hoofs and horns, and
how he had stumbled across a man even as I fired. Ruth was sobbing
quietly on Radisson's shoulder, and the old wanderer addressed us in
English.
"Children, do not grieve. I am an old man, and have lived through
more than most men. As for Gib, he has perished by the hand of God,
even as I foretold that he would. Now listen carefully.
"You, Ruth, are of right named Marie de Courbelles. It were best to
visit Montreal and Quebec, for there live your father's people,
though he is dead long since, and there you may obtain your
inheritance, which is a goodly one."
Ruth sobbed out that she wanted none of it, whereat the old man
petted her head and smiled on me suddenly.
"Davie, you will care for the little maid?"
"An' she will let me, I will," was my low reply.
"Then I shall pass happy," and Radisson sighed as if a burden was off
his mind. "I would that you had the old Bible of which you spoke,
lass. I would like to hear once more the story of those days Christ
spent in the wilderness. It hath ever attracted me strangely--I
would that my days had been set where I might have known Him!"
And as Radisson voiced the age-old wish of the world, I bethought me
that I still had the packet which The Keeper had put in my hands, and
so drew it out hastily.
"I have it here--read it, Ruth!"
The little maid took the Book with trembling hands. The translation
was Englished by Wicliff, and when she had found the place she put it
into French again for Radisson. He listened gravely, his head
drooping while she read, the stately chiefs standing around in silent
attention, though they understood it not. When it was finished he
sighed again.
"Thanks, my daughter. Brave Eyes, help me to my feet, for I would
fain look upon the face of Hudson ere I pass."
With The Crane, I helped him to gain his feet, and he leaned heavily
upon us. I motioned Ruth not to follow, for that sight was none for
her eyes, and so we led him through the inner passage to the second
chamber where sat the great mariner in his eternal silence. The glow
from our torch lit up his face, and Radisson sank down against the
table.
"Henry Hudson and Pierre Radisson!" I heard him murmur. "It were a
fitting ending, and a noble one!" Pulling himself up, he signed to
us that we should help him back again, which we did, nothing loath.
Uchichak was trembling when we reached the outer cave, for that man
who sat with quill in hand had frighted him mightily. Yet Radisson
had been more observing than I, for all his weakness.
"Davie," he said, more faintly, when he was again sitting upon the
skins, "I wish that you do one more thing for me. When I have
entered upon the spirit-trail, then carry me into that chamber and
let me sit at the table over against Henry Hudson. Place there The
Keeper and The Swift Arrow also, for such greatness is worthy them.
"That keg upon the table holds powder, I think. When we are placed,
lad, do you set that keg of powder in the narrow entrance and--"
He went no farther, for Ruth fell upon his neck with a great cry.
But he knew that I had understood, and that I would obey. Nothing
could better show the fantastic, grim spirit of the old wanderer than
this last desire of his--to be tombed in the living rock, with Henry
Hudson and the two Mohawks beside him. Nor, as I think now, was it
so mad a wish after all; for what better tomb could Pierre Radisson
have, in all this land he had found and loved and given to the world?
Now, since we had to pass the night here at least, I had the body of
Swift Arrow carried within the second chamber. The Crees had already
formed a camp outside, and as Radisson wished to taste fresh meat
once more before he passed--for we had gone hungry of late, through
having brought little food with us--I went outside with Uchichak.
The Cree camp was in a place sheltered from the terrific, howling
wind, and as the fires in the sky had now risen high overhead and
sent down a ghostly light into the deep gulch, I was enabled to see
the Mighty One where he lay--for the Indians had not dared to touch
him.
That last chance shot of mine had pierced through his heart, striking
him just behind the shoulder and going true. And what a great beast
he was! I had shot moose ere this, with my arrows, and had seen full
many, but never so huge a beast as this Mighty One. Still beneath
his great body lay Gib o' Clarclach, his evil face untouched and
grinning its last defiant grin up at the sky which he had blasphemed.
In that moment I was glad that no blow of mine had laid him low. He
had lived wrongly, and died wrongly. What a contrast between his
death and that of The Keeper! Yet the white man was of a race which
we call superior, he knew of things which the Mohawk had never
dreamed of, he had had advantages which The Keeper could never have
had--and he had lost his soul alive. Nay, I am not judging him, God
forbid! It may be that even such as he are not without hope
elsewhere.
Uchichak plucked up his courage and together we cut off the choicest
portions of the giant moose and carried them over to the fires of the
camp in the shelter of the walls. Many of the Crees had gone on to
the lodges, there to rescue Laughing Snow and to await the coming of
Talking Owl from the western pass.
When the meat was cooked I carried it back to the cavern, where we
found Radisson as we had left him, and but for his weakness I had
never known that he was hurt. He seemed to have become twenty years
younger in an hour.
Only Uchichak and one of two of the older chiefs had remained with
us. We all partook of the meat, and I even forced a portion upon
Ruth, who was in sore need of it. She, poor girl, had little heart
for eating, but managed to do well enough, as did we all.
"Now let us consider," said Radisson, to whom the meal had given
strength. Not even when he was facing death would he give up
planning. "How are you to reach home again?"
"We have no home," said Ruth sadly.
"Ayrby is sold, and we may not return."
"Tut, child," he responded. "I make no doubt you can get the farm
back again, if so you wish. Once I am gone, neither English nor
French will molest you. Indeed, you might make for the nearest post
and there take ship for the colonies. I would have you visit
Montreal, if possible, and there regain the inheritance which awaits
you. There will be ships in the Bay from Boston, mayhap, who will
set forth in the spring."
Straight upon this there entered four warriors who bore the silent
form of The Keeper. Radisson demanded to look upon the face of his
friend once more, and I would have drawn Ruth aside, but she would
not. And when The Keeper's face was uncovered, I was glad that this
was so; for the noble old face was strangely exalted and lit with a
great beauty such as never in all my life had I seen. I cannot
describe it fittingly, yet it was a memory that has ever-remained
fresh and vivid--as if God's hand had touched the worn features
lightly, ere they fell into the repose of death.
Then they covered him again and bore him into the inner chamber,
where they stayed no longer than might be. The old wanderer, I could
see, was now sinking fast, and his hand would tremble as it clutched
mine and Ruth's. Presently he pulled from about his neck a gold
medal--the same, it proved, that had been given him long years before
by the English king, ere his shameful betrayal. This he pressed into
Ruth's hand.
"Here, my daughter--keep this in my memory, and with my blessing. It
is a poor thing to remember me by, and yet it is all I have; it is
the sole trace of honor that has come to me for all my labors, and I
would that you keep it alway."
"Oh, we need naught to remember--" began Ruth, but ended in a sob.
Perhaps to check her grief, Radisson asked her to read to him from
the Book, and so she took it up again and after a little began to
read, while the tears ran over her cheeks. Whether by accident or by
design she never told me, but the passage was that wherein the
prophet met and spoke with his God upon the mountain.
I watched Radisson as she read, and saw his face light up, then the
look passed into one of awe and wonder. Slowly his head bowed down,
until I checked Ruth with my hand, for I thought that the end had
come; but it was not so, for he signed to her to continue, and raised
his head once more, looking up at the roof of the cave with startled
eyes, as though he saw there more than the bare rock. And with that
he stretched out his arm, and I helped him to his feet. He shook me
off and took one step forward alone.
"Not in the whirlwind," he cried passionately, his voice ringing deep
echoes from all around, "not in the whirlwind, O Lord, nor in the
fire, nor in the storm have I found Thee! But in the--still--small--"
He swayed forward, all the life gone out of him suddenly, and when I
lowered him to the skins I knew that Radisson had departed upon the
spirit-trail. I signed to The Crane, and we carried him into the
inner chamber and seated him across the table from Hudson. Then--for
I knew that in the morning no power would tempt me to enter that room
again--I carried out the keg, which proved to be nearly full of
coarse, dry powder, and left it in the passage.
"Come," said Ruth, catching at my arm, "we will sleep out by the
fire. Here I--I cannot, Davie."
I held her to me for a moment, then told The Crane to lead her to the
fire. When she had gone I gathered up the skins and furs, and after
a little time we had fixed up a shelter for her in a cranny of the
rocks, where I left her. I rejoined the silent Crees and flung
myself down in the warmth of the fire to sleep, for I was very weary.
The day was high when I wakened. Ruth, it seemed, was still asleep.
In the early morning the band of Talking Owl had arrived, and with
Uchichak's warriors had swept away those that remained of the
Chippewas. The days of the band were over; few ever returned to
their villages, and those that did bore with them such a tale as kept
Chippewa hunters in their own country for many winters to come.
My first duty before Ruth was up, was to clear away all signs of
conflict. Gib and his dead were laid to rest in the outer cave,
decently enough. The giant moose had already been quartered and the
great antlers were preserved for me as trophies. So when Ruth
appeared, naught remained of the struggle save the trampled snow and
a few shattered fragments of arrows.
The Crees were anxious to be home again, having raided the lodges in
the basin and burned them. So without delay I whistled Grim and
entered the cave. Placing the keg of powder in the narrowest part of
the entrance, I set a long train with a final fuse of birch bark.
When all was ready I warned off the curious Crees and lit the bark
with a stick from the fire.
For a moment it blazed up, and when I had turned from my hasty flight
I saw only a tiny flicker of flame from the powder. Then came a
cloud of smoke from the entrance, a low, thunderous roar that
reverberated from the high cliffs overhead, and the great rocks
crashed down in utter ruin. The cave was no more. Pierre Radisson
slept with those whom he had chosen for company in his last long
sleep.