THE ISLAND REFUGE.
The night was intensely cold and still and the stars shone brightly
through the bare boughs overhead.
"Are you sure you are going all right?" Nelly asked Harold. "It is so
dark here that it seems impossible to know which way we are going."
"You can trust the Indians," Harold said. "Even if there was not a star
to be seen they could find their way by some mysterious instinct. How
you are grown, Nelly! Your voice does not seem much changed, and I am
longing to see your face."
"I expect you are more changed than I am, Harold," the girl answered.
"You have been going through so much since we last met, and you seem
to have grown so tall and big. Your voice has changed very much, too;
it is the voice of a man. How in the world did you find us here?"
Pearson had gone on ahead to speak to the Seneca, but he now joined
them again.
"You mustn't talk," he said. "I hope there's no redskins within five
miles of us now, but there's never any saying where they may be."
There was, Harold thought, a certain sharpness in the hunter's voice,
which told of a greater anxiety than would be caused by the very
slight risk of the quietly spoken words being heard by passing
redskins, and he wondered what it could be.
They were now, he calculated, within a mile of the hiding place where
they had left the boat, and they had every reason for believing that
none of the Indians would be likely to have followed the shore so
far. That they would be pursued and that, in so heavily laden a
canoe, they would have great difficulty in escaping, he was well
aware, but he relied on the craft of the hunters and Senecas for
throwing their pursuers off the trail.
All at once the trees seemed to open in front, and in a few minutes
the party reached the river. A cry of astonishment and of something
akin to terror broke from Harold. As far as the eye could reach the
lake was frozen. Their escape was cut off.
"That's jest what I've been expecting," Pearson said. "The ice had
begun to form at the edge when we landed, and three days and nights
of such frost as we've had since was enough to freeze Ontario. What
on arth's to be done?"
No one answered. Peter and the redskins had shared Pearson's anxiety,
but to Harold and Cameron the disappointment was a terrible one; as
to Jake, he left all the thinking to be done by the others. Harold
stood gazing helplessly on the expanse of ice which covered the
water. It was not a smooth sheet, but was rough and broken, as if,
while it had been forming, the wind had broken the ice up into cakes
again and again, while the frost as often had bound them together.
They had struck the river within a few hundred yards of the place
where the canoe was hidden, and, after a short consultation between
the Seneca chief, Peter Lambton, and Pearson, moved down toward that
spot.
"What are you thinking of doing?" Harold asked when they gathered
round the canoe.
"We're going to load ourselves with the ammunition and deer's flesh,"
Peter said, "and make for a rocky island which lies about a mile off
here. I noticed it as we landed. There's nothing to do but to fight
it out to the last there. It are a good place for defense, for the
redskins won't like to come out across the open, and, even covered by
a dark night, they'd show on this white surface."
"Perhaps they won't trace us."
"Not trace us!" the trapper repeated scornfully. "Why, when daylight
comes, they'll pick up our track and follow it as easy as you could
that of a wagon across the snow."
They were just starting when Harold gave a little exclamation.
"What is it, lad?"
"A flake of snow fell on my face."
All looked up. The stars had disappeared. Another flake and another
fell on the upturned faces of the party.
"Let's thank the great God," Peter said quietly. "There's a chance
for our lives yet. Half an hour's snow and the trail 'll be lost."
Faster and faster the snowflakes came down. Again the leaders
consulted.
"We must change our plans, now," Peter said, turning to the others.
"So long as they could easily follow our tracks it mattered nothing
that they'd find the canoe here; but now it's altogether different.
We must take it along with us."
The weight of the canoe was very small. The greater part of its
contents had already been removed. There was a careful look round to
see that nothing remained on the bank; then four of the men lifted it
on their shoulders, and the whole party stepped out upon the ice. The
snow was now falling heavily, and to Harold's eyes there was nothing
to guide them in the direction they were following. Even the Indians
would have been at a loss had not the Seneca, the instant the snow
began to fall, sent on one of his followers at full speed toward the
island. Harold wondered at the time what his object could be as the
Indian darted off across the ice, but now he understood. Every minute
or two the low hoot of an owl was heard, and toward this sound the
party directed their way through the darkness and snow.
So heavy was the fall that the island rose white before them as they
reached it. It was of no great extent--some twenty or thirty yards
across, and perhaps twice that length. It rose steeply from the water
to a height of from ten to fifteen feet. The ground was rough and
broken, and several trees and much brushwood grew in the crevices of
the rock.
The Seneca and the hunters made a rapid examination of the island,
and soon fixed upon the spot for their camp. Toward one end the
island was split in two, and an indentation ran some distance up into
it. Here a clear spot was found some three or four feet above the
level of the water. It was completely hidden by thick bushes from the
sight of anyone approaching by water. There the canoe was turned
over, and the girls, who were both suffering from the intense cold,
were wrapped up in blankets and placed under its shelter. The camp
was at the lower end of the island and would, therefore, be entirely
hidden from view of Indians gathered upon the shore. In such a
snowstorm light would be invisible at a very short distance, and
Peter did not hesitate to light a fire in front of the canoe.
For three hours the snow continued to fall. The fire had been
sheltered by blankets stretched at some distance above it. Long
before the snow ceased it had sunk down to a pile of red embers. A
small tent had now been formed of blankets for the use of the girls;
brushwood had been heaped over this, and upon the brushwood snow had
been thrown, the whole making a shelter which would be warm and
comfortable in the bitterest weather. A pile of hot embers was placed
in this little tent until it was thoroughly heated; blankets were
then spread, and the girls were asked to leave the shelter of the
canoe and take their place there.
The canoe itself was now raised on four sticks three feet from the
ground; bushes were laid round it and snow piled on, thus forming the
walls of which the canoe was the roof. All this was finished long
before the snow had ceased falling, and this added a smooth white
surface all over, so that, to a casual eye, both tent and hut looked
like two natural ridges of the ground. They were a cheerful party
which assembled in the little hut. The remainder of the embers of the
fire had been brought in, and, intense as was the cold outside, it
was warm and comfortable within. Tea was made and pipes filled, and
they chatted some time before going to sleep.
Duncan Cameron was like a man transfigured. His joy and thankfulness
for the recovery of his daughter were unbounded. Harold's pleasure,
too, at the rescue of his cousin was very great, and the others were
all gratified at the success of their expedition. It was true that
the Indians had as yet gained no scalps, but Harold had promised them
before starting that, should the expedition be successful, they
should be handsomely rewarded.
"We mustn't reckon as we are safe yet," Peter said in answer to one
of Harold's remarks. "The redskins aint going to let us slip through
their fingers so easy as all that. They've lost our trail and have
nothing but their senses to guide 'em, but an Injun's senses aint
easily deceived in these woods. Ef this snow begins again and keeps
on for two or three days they may be puzzled; but ef it stops they'll
cast a circle round their camp at a distance beyond where we could
have got before the snow ceased, and ef they find no new trails
they'll know that we must be within that circle. Then, as to the
boats, when they find as we don't come down to the two as they've
discovered, and that we've not made off by land, they'll guess as
there was another canoe hidden somewhere, and they'll sarch high and
low for it. Waal, they won't find it; and then they'll suppose that
we may have taken to the ice, and they'll sarch that. Either they'll
git to open water or to the other side. Ef there's open water
anywhere within a few miles they may conclude that we've carried a
canoe, launched it there, and made off. In that case, when they've
sarched everywhere, they may give it up. Ef there aint no such open
water, they'll sarch till they find us. It aint likely that this
island will escape 'em. With nine good rifles here we can hold the
place against the hull tribe, and as they'd show up against the snow,
they can no more attack by night than by day."
"I don't think our food will hold out beyond seven or eight days,"
Harold said.
"Jest about that," Peter answered; "but we can cut a hole in the ice
and fish, and can hold out that way, if need be, for weeks. The wust
of it is that the ice aint likely to break up now until the spring. I
reckon our only chance is to wait till we git another big snowstorm
and then to make off. The snow will cover our trail as fast as we
make it, and, once across to the other shore, we may git away from
the varmints. But I don't disguise from you, Harold, that we're in a
very awk'ard trouble, and that it 'll need all the craft of the
chief, here, and all the experience of Pearson and me to get us out
of it."
"The guid God has been vera merciful to us sae far," Duncan Cameron
said; "he will surely protect us to the end. Had he na sent the snow
just when he did, the savages could hae followed our trail at once;
it was a miracle wrought in our favor. He has aided us to rescue the
twa bairns frae the hands of the Indians, and we may surely trust in
his protection to the end. My daughter and her friend hae, I am very
sure, before lying down to sleep, entreated his protection. Let us a'
do the same."
And the old soldier, taking off his cap, prayed aloud to God to heed
and protect them.
Harold and the frontiersmen also removed their caps and joined in the
prayer, and the Senecas looked on, silent and reverent, at an act of
worship which was rare among their white companions.
As Peter was of opinion that there was no chance whatever of any
search on the part of the Indians that night, and therefore there was
no need to set a watch, the whole party wrapped themselves up in
their blankets and were soon asleep.
When Harold woke next morning it was broad daylight. The Senecas had
already been out and had brought news that a strong party of Indians
could be seen moving along the edge of the forest, evidently
searching for a canoe. One of the Indians was placed on watch, and
two or three hours later he reported that the Indians were now
entirely out of sight and were, when last seen, scouting along the
edge of the forest.
"Now," Peter said, "the sooner we git another snowstorm the better.
Ef we'd been alone we could have pushed on last night, but the gals
was exhausted and would soon have died of the cold. Now, with a fresh
start they'd do. Ef we can't cross the lake I calculate that we're
about thirty mile from a p'int on the north shore below the falls of
Ste. Marie, and we could land there and strike across through the
woods for the settlement. It'd be a terrible long journey round the
north of Huron, but we must try it ef we can't get across."
"But we could go off by night, surely," Harold said, "even if there
is no fresh snow."
"We could do that," Peter replied; "no doubt of it. But ef they were
to find our track the next day, ay, or within three days, they'd
follow us and overtake us afore we got to the settlements. Ef we was
alone, it'd be one thing; but with the gals it'd be another
altogether. No, we must stop here till a snowstorm comes, even if we
have to stop for a month. There's no saying how soon some of them
Injuns may be loafing round, and we daren't leave a trail for 'em to
take up."
They had scarcely ceased speaking when a low call from the Indian
placed on watch summoned the chief to his side. A minute later the
latter rejoined the group below and said a few words to Peter.
"Jest as I thought!" the latter grumbled, rising with his rifle
across his arm. "Here are some of the varmints coming out this 'ere
way. Likely enough it's a party of young braves jest scouting about
on their own account, to try and get honor by discovering us when
their elders have failed. It would have been better for them to have
stopped at home."
The party now crept up to the top of the rock, keeping carefully
below its crest.
"Ef you show as much as a hair above the top line," Peter said,
"they'll see you, sartin."
"Would it not be well," Harold asked, "for one of us to show himself?
There is no possibility of further concealment, and if they go off
without any of them being killed the others might be less bitter
against us than they would if they had lost some of their tribe."
Peter laughed scornfully.
"Ye haven't had much to do with Injuns, lad, but I should have
thought you'd have had better sense nor that. Haven't these Injuns
been a-murdering and a-slaying along the frontier all the summer,
falling on defenseless women and children? Marcy and pity aint in
their natur, and, fight or no fight, our scalps will dry in their
wigwams if they get us into their power. They know that we can shoot
and mean to, and that 'll make 'em careful of attacking us, and every
hour is important. Now," he said to the others, "each of you cover a
man and fire straight through your sights when I gives the word.
There's others watching 'em, you may be sure, and ef the whole five
go down together, it'll make 'em think twice afore they attack us
again."
Peering between some loose rocks, so that he could see without
exposing his head above the line, Harold watched the five Indians
approaching. They had evidently some doubts as to the wisdom of the
course they were pursuing, and were well aware that they ran a
terrible risk standing there in the open before the rifles of those
concealed, should the fugitives be really there. Nevertheless, the
hope of gaining distinction and the fear of ridicule from those
watching them on shore, should they turn back with their mission
unaccomplished, inspired them with resolution. When within three
hundred yards of the island they halted for a long time. They stood
gazing fixedly; but, although no signs of life could be perceived,
they were too well versed in Indian warfare to gain any confidence
from the apparent stillness. Throwing themselves flat on the snow and
following each other in single line, by which means their bodies were
nearly concealed from sight in the track which their leader made
through the light, yielding snow, they made a complete circuit of the
island. They paused for some time opposite the little forked entrance
in which the camp was situated, but apparently saw nothing, for they
kept round until they completed the circuit.
When they reached the point from which they had started there was,
apparently, a short consultation among them. Then they continued
their course in the track that they had before made until they
reached a spot facing the camp. Then they changed order, and, still
prone in the snow, advanced abreast toward the island.
"The varmints have guessed that, if we are here, this is the place
where we'd be hid," Peter whispered in Harold's ear.
As the Indians made their circuit the party in the island had changed
their position so as always to keep out of sight. They were now on
the top of the island, which was a sort of rough plateau. The girls
had been warned, when they left them, to remain perfectly quiet in
their shelter whatever noise they might hear. Peter and the Seneca
watched the Indians through holes which they had made with their
ramrods through a bank of snow. The others remained flat in the
slight depression behind it. At the distance of one hundred and fifty
yards the Indians stopped.
"The varmints see something!" Peter said. "Maybe they can make out
the two snow heaps through the bushes; maybe they can see some of our
footsteps in the snow. They're going to fire!" he exclaimed. "Up,
lads! They may send a bullet into the hut whar the gals is hid."
In an instant the line of men sprang to their feet. The Indians,
taken by surprise at the sudden appearance of a larger number of
enemies than they expected, fired a hasty volley and then sprang to
their feet and dashed toward the shore. But they were deadly rifles
which covered them. Peter, Harold, and Pearson could be trusted not
to miss even a rapidly moving object at that distance, and the men
were all good shots. Not in regular order, but as each covered his
man, the rifles were discharged. Four out of the five Indians fell,
and an arm of the fifth dropped useless by his side; however, he
still kept on. The whites reloaded rapidly, and Harold was about to
fire again when Pearson put his hand on his shoulder.
"Don't fire! We've shown them that we can shoot straight. It's jest
as well at present that they shouldn't know how far our rifles will
carry."
The four Senecas dashed out across the snow and speedily returned,
each with a scalp hanging at his belt.
A loud yell of anger and lamentation had risen from the woods
skirting the shore as the Indians fell, but after this died away deep
silence reigned.
"What will be their next move?" Cameron asked Peter, as they gathered
again in their low hut, having placed one of the Indians on watch.
"We'll hear nothing of 'em till nightfall," Peter said. "Their first
move, now they know as we're here, will be to send off to fetch up
all the tribe who're in search of us. When it comes on dark they'll
send scouts outside of us on the ice to see as we don't escape--not
that they'd much mind ef we did, for they could track us through the
snow and come up with us whenever they chose. No, they may be sure
we'll stay where we are. It may be they'll attack us to-night, maybe
not. It'd be a thing more risksome than redskins often undertake to
cross the snow under the fire of nine rifles. I aint no doubt they'd
try and starve us out, for they must know well enough that we can
have no great store of provisions. But they know as well as we do
that, if another snowstorm comes on, we might slip away from 'em
without leaving a foot-mark behind. It's jest that thought as may
make 'em attack."
"Well, we can beat them off, if they do," Harold said confidently.
"Waal, we may and we may not," the scout answered. "Anyhow we can
kill a grist of 'em afore they turn us out on this 'ere island."
"That's sartin enough," Pearson put in; "but they're a strong tribe,
and ef they can harden their hearts and make a rush it's all up with
us. I allow that it's contrary to their custom, but when they see no
other way to do with, they may try."
"I suppose if they do try a rush," Harold said, "they will do it
against this end of the island?"
"Yes, you may bet your money on that," the scout answered. "In other
places the rock goes pretty nigh straight up from the water, but here
it's an easy landing. Being so close to 'em they're sure to know all
about it; but even if they didn't, the chap that got away would tell
'em. I don't much expect an attack to-night--the bands won't be back
yet. They'll have a grand palaver to-night, and there'll be a big
talk afore they decide what is best to be done; so I think we're safe
for to-night. To-morrow we'll set to work and build a shelter for the
pretty ones up above, where they'll be safe from stray shots. Then
we'll throw up a breastwork with loose rocks on the top of the slope
round this cove, so as to give it to 'em hot when they land."
"You have plenty of powder?" Harold asked.
"Dollops," Peter replied; "more'n we could fire away if we was
besieged here for a month."
"Then you could spare me twenty pounds or so?"
"We could spare you a whole keg if you like; we've got three full.
But what are you thinking of now, young un?"
"I was thinking," Harold answered, "of forming a line of holes, say
three feet apart, in the ice across the mouth of the cove. If we were
to charge them with powder and lay a train between them, we could,
when the first dozen or so have passed the line, fire the train and
break up the ice. This would prevent the others following, and give
them such a bad scare that they would probably make off, and we could
easily deal with those who had passed the line before we fired it."
"That's a good idea of yours, lad. A fust-rate idea. The ice must be
a foot thick by this time, and ef you put in your charges eight
inches and tamp 'em well down you'll shiver the ice for a long way
round. The idea is a fust-rate one."
Pearson and Cameron assisted in the work, and the Indians, when Peter
had explained the plan to them, gave deep gutteral exclamations of
surprise and approval. The process of blasting was one wholly unknown
to them.
"I will mak' the holes," Cameron said. "I hae seen a deal of blasting
when I was in the army. I can heat the end of a ramrod in a fire and
hammer it into the shape of a borer."
"A better way than that, Cameron," Harold said, "will be to heat the
end of a ramrod white-hot. You will melt holes in the ice in half the
time it would take you to bore them. That was what I was thinking of
doing."
"Right you are, lad!" Pearson said. "Let's set about it at once."
A large fire was now lighted outside the hut, for there was no longer
any occasion for secrecy. The ends of three or four of the ramrods
were placed in the fire, and two lines of holes were bored in the ice
across the mouth of the little cove. These lines were twelve feet
apart, and they calculated that the ice between them would be
completely broken up, even if the fractures did not extend a good way
beyond the lines. The holes were of rather larger diameter than the
interior of a gun barrel. It was found that the ice was about fifteen
inches thick, and the holes were taken down ten inches. Three or four
charges of powder were placed in each; a stick of a quarter of an
inch in diameter was then placed in each hole, and pounded ice was
rammed tightly in around it until the holes were filled up, a few
drops of water being poured in on the top, so as to freeze the whole
into a solid mass. There was no fear of the powder being wetted, for
the frost was intense. Then the sticks were withdrawn and the holes
left filled with powder. With the heated ramrods little troughs were
sunk half an inch deep, connecting the tops of the holes; lines of
powder were placed in these trenches; narrow strips of skin were laid
over them, and the snow was then thrown on again. The two lines of
trenches were connected at the ends at the shore, so that they could
be fired simultaneously.
While the men were occupied with this work the girls had cooked some
venison steaks and made some cakes.
It was just nightfall when they had finished, and all sat down and
enjoyed a hearty meal. Peter and one of the Senecas undertook the
watch for half the night, when they were to be relieved by Pearson
and the chief. The early part of the night passed off quietly, but an
hour before morning the party were aroused by the sharp crack of two
rifles. Seizing their arms, all rushed out.
"What is it, Pearson?"
"Two of their scouts," Pearson answered, pointing to two dark bodies
on the snow at a distance of about one hundred yards. "I suppose they
wanted to see ef we was on the watch. We made 'em out almost as soon
as they left the shore, but we let 'em come on until we was sartin of
our aim. There aint no more about as we can see, so ye can all turn
in again for another hour or two."
There was no fresh alarm before morning, and, when the sun rose, it
shone over a wide expanse of snow, unbroken save where lay the bodies
of the two Indians--whose scalps already hung at the belt of the
Seneca--and those of their four comrades who had fallen in the first
attack.
The day passed quietly. Toward the afternoon two Indians were seen
approaching from the shore. They were unarmed and held their hands
aloft as a sign of amity. Peter and Pearson at once laid down their
guns, left the island, and advanced to meet them. They were Indian
chiefs of importance.
"Why have my white brothers stolen in at night upon the village of
War Eagle and slain his young men?"
"It is what you have been doing all last year, chief," Pearson, who
spoke the dialect better than Peter, replied. "But we injured no one.
We didn't kill women and children, as your warriors have done in the
white villages. We only came to take what you had stolen from us, and
ef your young men have been killed it's only because they tried to
attack us."
"The white men must see," the chief said, "that they cannot get away.
The water is hard, and their canoe will not swim in it. The snow is
deep, and the tender feet cannot walk through it. My warriors are
very numerous, and the white men cannot fight their way through them.
The white settlements are very far away, and their friends cannot
reach them; and it will be many months before the water softens, and
long before that the white men will have eaten their moccasins."
"Waal, chief," Pearson said, "we're in a tight hole, I grant you; but
I'm far from allowing that we aint no chances left to us yet. What do
you propose? I suppose you've some proposition to make."
"Let the white men leave behind them their guns and their powder and
the maidens they have taken from War Eagle's camp; then let them go
in peace. They shall not be harmed."
Pearson gave a short laugh.
"War Eagle must think the white men are foolish. What's to prevent
the red warriors from taking all our scalps when our arms are in
their hands?"
"The word of a great chief," War Eagle said. "War Eagle never lies."
"You may not lie, chief," Pearson said bluntly, "but I've known many
a treaty broken afore now. You and your people may not touch us, but
there's other redskins about, and I wouldn't give a beaver's skin for
our sculps ef we were to take the back trail to the settlements
without arms in our hands. Besides that, we've among us the father of
the gal who was stole far away off from Lake Champlain, and a
relative of hers whose parents you've killed down on the lake. Ef we
were to agree to give up our arms, it stands to reason it aint likely
they'd agree to give up the gals. No, no, chief; your terms aren't
reasonable. But I tell ye what we will do; ef you'll give us your
word that neither you nor your tribe'll molest us in our retreat
we'll go back to the settlements, and 'll engage that, when we get
back there, we'll send you nine of the best rifles money can buy,
with plenty of powder and ball, and blankets and such like."
The chief waved his hand in contemptuous refusal of the terms.
"There are six of my young men's scalps at your girdles, and their
places are empty. War Eagle has spoken."
"Very well, chief," Pearson said. "Ef nothing but sculps will content
you, to fighting it must come; but I warn you that your tribe'll lose
a good many more afore they get ours."
So saying, without another word, they separated, each party making
their way back to their friends.
"What on earth can he have proposed such terms as those for?" Harold
asked, when Pearson had related what had taken place between him and
the chief. "He must have known we should not accept them."
"I expect," Pearson said, "he wanted to see who we were and to judge
what sort of spirit we had. It may be, too, that there was a party
among the tribe who had no stomachs for the job of attacking this
place, and so he was obliged to make a show of offering terms to
please 'em; but he never meant as they should be accepted. No, I take
it they'll wait a few days to see what hunger'll do. They must be
pretty sure that we've not a very large supply of food."