THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS.
With saddened hearts we turned our faces toward the Barren Places
once again. Swift Arrow had killed two of the dogs in his dash for
help, but the others were sufficient to draw the sled bearing Grim
and Ruth. The old dog's wounds had become too stiff and sore to
permit of his traveling afoot, so he curled up at Ruth's feet.
The antlers of the Mighty One were lashed to the sled behind the
little maid, forming a rest for her to lean back upon. My wound did
not prevent traveling, and there was no great need of haste. A band
of the warriors pushed on to provide food for us who followed, and at
length we emerged from that dismal, howling passage through the
cliffs into the frozen silence of the desolate wastes.
Not until the second evening did we reach the village once more. On
the journey I initiated Uchichak into the mysteries of a musket, for
although the Crees had often seen our guns and knew their uses, they
had never heard them fired until that shot wherewith I killed the
Mighty One. The chief was delighted with the weapon which I gave to
him, as were the other chiefs, for I kept only one fusil for my own
use.
At the village the party of Talking Owl remained for a great feast.
On the second evening of this feast a great council was held of the
two bands, for so Ruth had urged upon me that day.
"We must not forget, Davie, that our task is not finished here," she
said gravely, as we were discussing what we had best do. "See if you
can get them to admit me to a Council again, to read to them from the
Book. I can put it into Cree, I think."
So we crowded into the lodge of council in the evening, and among
others who were admitted was Soan-ge-ta-ha the Chippewa. The
destruction of his band and the death of Gib seemed to have broken
the old chief, and he had readily agreed to return home in peace and
to lead no more war-parties into the Ghost Hills. Three of the
foremost seats, however, were left empty out of respect, while from
the top of the lodge was suspended the great pair of antlers which
the giant moose had borne. The first who addressed the Council was
Uchichak, when the calumet had been ceremoniously passed around,
Brave Heart accepting it in silence.
"My brothers," he began gravely, "once before has Yellow Lily been
admitted to the Council. Then she told us about the Great Spirit and
His Son, and about the Book, of which we understood little. But in
the Ghost Hills, my brothers, she found this same paper-talk, sent to
her by the Great Spirit, and she wishes that we should hear it.
"My brothers, I am old. I have seen the Mighty One fall under the
hand of Brave Eyes. I do not know whether our Great Spirit sent him
or not, but we decreed in Council that if he slew the Mighty One,
then would we listen to his Great Spirit."
Uchichak resumed his seat. Talking Owl and his chiefs, who had of
course heard the tale of the previous Council, objected to allowing
Ruth or any other woman to enter the lodge. They were, however,
overruled, and finally assented.
[Illustration: _She selected parts of the Gospels--The chiefs
understood and listened absorbedly._]
When Ruth entered, she stood beside the fire so that the flickering
light would enable her to read from the little Book. I had not known
what portion she would give to them, but she started with the
Creation, wisely enough. Then she selected parts of the Gospels
which gave short sketches from the life of the Master, and concluded
with the great story of Saint Paul. She turned the whole into Cree
as she went, stumbling in places where she knew no words, altering
other parts to simpler language, but on the whole the chiefs
understood and listened absorbedly. They were little more than
children in spirit, loving a story for its own sake, but over-quick
to catch the sense of a parable, so that Ruth read them many of these.
It was a lengthy reading, and when it was done I had thought the
chiefs were asleep but for their glittering eyes centered on the
little maid. When I had led her out and come back to my seat there
was a very long silence, until at last the oldest chief stepped out
and made the smoke-offering to the four corners of the heavens.
"My brothers, there were four chiefs who sat in the Council, and who
defied the Mighty One, saying that he was not sent by the Great
Spirit to us his children. My eyes are very feeble, yet I see only
one of these four. There are three vacant places before me. Perhaps
White Eagle and the Brothers of the Thunder have not yet come?"
His gaze swept around as if looking for the absent ones, but none
answered.
"My brothers, I see before me Brave Eyes, whose name shall be
Moose-slayer hereafter. Over his head swing the horns of the Mighty
One. I am too old to take the war-trail, and my limbs are feeble.
Perhaps Moose-slayer will tell me how the Mighty One was slain."
A whisper of approval passed around as he sat down, and after a
little the eyes of the chiefs were fixed upon me, waiting. So, when
the silence had become unendurable, I came to my feet and faced them.
Painting the picture before them as well as I might, for so they love
to have their stories told, I related how The Keeper had died beneath
the Chippewa arrows, a martyr to his faith, and retold his words.
Then on to the fight at the cavern and the silent man whom we had
found sitting therein, and I laid emphasis on how the little Bible
had been his, telling them something of his life. I concluded the
whole by reciting the death of the Mighty One, which had brought me
the high honor of a new name. I urged naught upon them, merely
pointing out how the Great Spirit had directed my bullet to its mark,
and so made an end of speaking. I could tell that my words had
impressed them, but I did not know how deeply until Uchichak arose.
"My brothers, we have listened to the Yellow Lily, we have heard the
words of Moose-slayer," for such is the best translation I can give
of the Cree term applied to me. "I have never met the dead, my
brothers, yet in the paper-talk the Great Spirit has said that we
should meet them upon the spirit-trail. I would like to meet White
Eagle once again, and my father Gray Fish, and my other friends and
kinsmen. Our hearts are open; but first I would listen to the words
of Talking Owl."
The latter chief, who was gaunt and hollow-eyed, surprised me greatly
by his words.
"There can be but one Great Spirit, my brothers. The Crane has told
you that our hearts are open, and it is true. The Mighty One was
very strong. Our young men dared not stand against him, and our old
men said that he was a messenger from the Great Spirit. We believed
that this was true.
"Then came this white man to our villages. We hunted with him, and
we found that his tongue was straight. When he told The Crane that
the Mighty One was not sent by the Great Spirit and that he would
hunt the moose, we were sorry, for we loved him and we loved White
Eagle his brother. The Chippewas, my brothers, believed in our Great
Spirit, yet the Mighty One attacked and scattered them, and the white
man slew him in a moment. Talking Owl thinks that the Great Spirit
of the white man and the Great Spirit of the red man are the same,
and that He has sent Moose-slayer as a messenger to us."
With that I knew that the cause was won. The Council lasted a great
while longer, each of the older chiefs speaking in turn while the
warriors listened, but they all agreed with Uchichak and Talking Owl,
and in the end it was decided that they should accept the "sign in
the water" at another council to be held the next night.
I hastened back to Ruth with the good news, and she was mightily
rejoiced. As it was late, we made no preparations until the next
day. The Crees had decided that Soan-ge-ta-ha should return
scatheless to his people, but somewhat to my surprise the Chippewa
announced that he, too, would receive the "sign in the water" with
the Cree chiefs. This was more than we had looked for, and it
greatly strengthened our influence, for Brave Heart was a famous
chief in his own nation.
So in the great council-lodge we met and there the chiefs and
warriors received baptism. I felt keenly mine own unworthiness in
the matter, but for this there was no help. The squaws could by no
means enter this lodge, and so we visited them outside by the light
of great fires, afterward returning to the Council. There I set
before them all, the fact that it was time that Ruth and I returned
to our own people.
"The spirit of White Eagle will be very happy," I told them, "as he
looks down and sees that you also are followers of the Great Spirit,
my brothers. And now that we have fulfilled our mission, we would
fain depart. First, however, I bid you to send messengers to all the
other villages, and cement a League of Peace here in the northland, a
silver chain of peace which shall bind you together strongly. You
shall have a council from all your tribes and villages which shall
rule you justly, and if this be done there shall no war or danger
come upon you for ever. I would fain stay and see that this is done
rightly, yet I am far from mine own people and my home, and the trail
is a long one to follow."
As you may imagine, Uchichak and the rest were in huge consternation
at this, but in the end they promised to follow my advice and form a
peace-league among the peoples of the snows. Whether this was ever
done I know not to this day.
As to the manner of our return, few of the Crees hereabouts had ever
visited the shores of the Great Bay, for the trail led across the
Barren Places and their hunting grounds lay rather to the west and
south. Soan-ge-ta-ha, however, offered to guide us to one of the
posts as soon as we should come to the Chippewa country, and this
offer we accepted right willingly.
Talking Owl and his warriors remained a few days longer for a last
grand hunt, and a dozen Crees, with Uchichak, arranged to accompany
us to the Chippewa country. When the time of parting came, I told
them that if possible I would send other messengers to them from the
Great Spirit, who should tell them more of Him than could I; but I
laid no great weight upon this promise, knowing the men who made up
the Adventurers, and indeed the first to come among them with the
Word after our leaving, were missionaries from the Canadas.
So once more we turned our backs upon friends and faced, this time
eastward, the waste places. The trip to the Chippewa country was a
hard one, but Ruth got through it well enough and Grim remained
constant at our side. At the Chippewa villages we parted with
Uchichak, and there still hang upon the wall before me the
magnificent moccasins which he gave me as a parting gift, while to
Ruth was given a shirt of doeskin with quill workings in many hues.
Brave Heart kept his promises faithfully, although the Chippewas were
bitter against us for the loss of so large a party, and with some of
his men led us eastward, thinking to hit upon the Bay and so cross
the ice to Albany. But to the post we never came, for we had no
sooner come to the Bay, a desolate waste of ice stretching into the
distance, than we saw a smoke from a river-mouth, and when we had
come to it found there a ship laid up for the winter, and near the
ship a little fortified camp of men.
I left our party and advanced down the slope toward them, and when
our coming was seen, a man came forth to meet me, while over the camp
was run up the flag of France. The man was also French, and I
greeted him in his own tongue, asking for refuge and shelter. He
tendered us a warm greeting, and therewith we went down to the camp,
wondering how this ship of France came to be in the territory of the
Adventurers.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE END OF THE LONG TRAIL.
It was simple enough. The ship was the barque Pelican, out of New
France, and her company were fur-pirates in the Bay. They had been
caught by the ice, but as none at the Company's posts knew of their
presence, they were safe enough. In the barque was great store of
furs bartered from the Indians, and her master, one de Croissac,
sought only to win home again safe ere the Company's ships came from
England in the spring.
They were warm-hearted men, these Frenchmen, and gave us of their
best. I told de Croissac all our tale, whereat he marveled much, and
promised to take us safe to Montreal, whence we could get ship for
France or New England, and so home again. Moreover, he knew of the
de Courbelles, and that Ruth's heritance was great.
This troubled me no little. At last the spring came and the ice went
out in its warmth, and the "Pelican" was ready. On the day we
sailed, Ruth and I stood on the hilltop above, gazing out across the
land and the water.
"Somewhere in that ice-dotted blue," Ruth said softly, "sleeps the
'Lass o' Dee,' with all those whom we knew and loved, Davie."
"Yes," I made heavy-hearted answer, "and we leave them here for ever.
When we get to New France, and you become a great lady, Ruth, I will
leave you there also among your kin, and go--where I know not."
"Why, Davie," and she slipped her hand into mine gently, "do you
think so hard of me as to leave me among strangers? I had thought we
would go back to Ayrby together--"
"Lass, lass," I cried out in the old Gaelic we had not spoke for so
long, "an' you stay in New France you shall be a great lady, rich and
be-suitored. Would you then come back to the little stead on the
moors, where wealth is naught, where all is rude and homely and--"
"Yes, Davie," she whispered, "because it is rude and homely
and--beautiful, I love it. So you thought I had rather be a great
lady! Truly, you might have known me better than that."
Aye, and I had, but I had wished for her to say it. So we stood for
long, until a gun crashed out from the "Pelican," warning us to come.
As we turned to go, I caught her to me and my heart swelled with the
knowledge that though the New World had taken much from me, it had in
the end given me more a thousandfold.
In the Straits we were sighted by an English ship, but the "Pelican"
was too fast for her, and not another sail did we see until we
reached New France and were safe. De Croissac, who knew our story
and our love, advised that we be married before seeking out Ruth's
people, for were our story and the ending of Radisson to become
known, there was no telling but that she might be sent to France as a
ward of the Governor.
So it came about that we stepped ashore and sought out a friend of
the kindly captain, a priest whose little chapel nestled in the
shadow of the citadel, and from which we went as man and wife,
soberly and happily.
Before leaving the Bay, Soan-ge-ta-ha had conveyed to me a parting
gift from Uchichak and the Crees, in the shape of a packet of furs.
These I had not opened until the cargo of the "Pelican" came to be
examined, when it was found that they were of the choicest beaver and
fox, and that their sale would afford us much ready money.
Thus it chanced that when we left Montreal for Boston town, aboard a
trader of that port, both Ruth and I were like to be well off upon
our return to the Old World. Of the finding of Hudson I had said
nothing, keeping the little Bible and the scrap of written paper safe
stowed away, for our tale seemed wild enough as it was, in all sooth.
One more package there was, in two pieces, but very large and bulky.
What this contained I did not know. It had been Ruth's secret from
the time we left Uchichak's village until we reached Rathesby once
again, and so on to the stead at Ayrby, which Ian MacDonald yielded
up readily enough, being glad to go back to his nets. At the
unpacking of this thing, Ruth bade me begone for a time. I returned
from the moors to find, hung over the broad fireplace, the massy
antlers of the Mighty One! She had fetched them where I had clean
forgot them, to be a lasting memorial of the days that had been.
So here endeth my tale. There is another Grim now to tend the sheep,
yet still about us are things whereby to remember him and his. But
the things we fetched back from the New World were more than we had
gone to seek there. We had dreamed of fortune, and we came home with
love. We had looked for struggle and hardship, and we had found
them, but we had come home again with peace. Ruth, bending over my
shoulder as I write this last, would have me say one word more of
Radisson--nay, she shall write it herself, here at the end.
"Trust thou in the Lord, wait patiently for Him, and He shall give
thee thy heart's desire!"
THE END.