A DASH FOR LIBERTY
The mystery of Champlain's disappearance weighed heavily on the
spirits of the forlorn little garrison left to hold Quebec. He had
been the life and mainstay of the colony, the firm rock upon which it
was founded. Without him there seemed no hope of its continuance or
of relief from their distress. They were convinced that he was dead,
for they knew he would never have left them without at least sending
a message to tell where he had gone. So they mourned him sincerely if
also selfishly, and planned to abandon his settlement at the first
opportunity, if indeed any should offer.
The great storm cast an added gloom over the garrison, and they were so
unhappy that every man was ready to fly at his neighbor's throat upon
the slightest provocation, when a small band of Indians was reported
to be making a camp near at hand. Instantly every face brightened,
for it was thought that they must have brought provisions to trade for
goods. Thus, when, a little later, one of them approached the fort, he
was given prompt admittance. Being conducted to the presence of the
commandant, he announced that his people were so very hungry that they
had come to the white men to beg a little food from their abundant
stores. At the same time he had brought a message from the great white
chief, for which he was entitled to a reward.
With this the Indian produced a folded paper, greasy and grimed with
dirt, which he handed to Chauvin.
As the latter unfolded it he uttered an exclamation, for it contained a
note written in French and signed "Champlain." Its condition rendered
it difficult to decipher, but as the reader gradually mastered its
contents his face darkened, until suddenly he sprang up, seized a
stick, and began furiously to belabor the astonished savage, who had
been waiting in smiling expectancy for his reward. With a howl of
pained surprise, he leaped back and rushed from the building with the
enraged commandant in hot pursuit.
Not until the terrified native had escaped from the fort and
disappeared in the forest did Chauvin give over his chase. Then, to the
amazement of his men, he ordered a cannon to be loaded and fired in
the direction taken by the object of his wrath. Although the crashing
ball did no damage, it, and the roar of the gun bursting upon the
winter stillness, so frightened the recently arrived Indians that they
instantly abandoned their partially constructed camp and fled in hot
haste from that hostile neighborhood.
Refusing to answer questions, and so leaving the curiosity of his men
unsatisfied, Chauvin returned to his quarters, and lifting Champlain's
note from the floor where he had flung it, read it for the second time
with gritting teeth and bitter maledictions. It was dated four months
earlier, and read as follows:
"MY GOOD FRIEND PIERRE:
"I am just arrived at Tadousac and find the ship about to sail. I
also find it to be of the last importance that one of us should
return in her to France. Had I known this two days earlier, or
could I get word to you in season, the mission would devolve upon
you, since I am loath to leave at this time. As it happens, I
myself must go; but will return in earliest spring. So, my friend,
until then everything is left to you. Husband carefully your
provisions, keep up the spirits of your men, and maintain friendly
relations with the natives. I forward this by a messenger, whom you
will suitably reward for its prompt delivery. Regretting that we
may not exchange duties, for I would gladly remain, I sign myself,
as ever,
"Thy friend,
"CHAMPLAIN."
"Death and furies!" cried Chauvin, again flinging the note to the floor
and grinding it beneath his heel. "To think that while we have mourned
him as dead he has been all the time comfortably in France. Also that
I might have gone in his stead if only he could have got word to me in
time. Ten thousand thunders! It would enrage a saint! Maintain friendly
relations with the natives, forsooth! I would I could blow them all to
eternity. Suitably reward that rascal messenger! Burning at the stake
would be too good for him. And, heavens! all this time we have been
keeping one of the scoundrels in luxurious idleness, gorging him with
food robbed from our own bellies, providing him with fire and lodging
to gratify a whim of the governor's, doubtless long since forgotten.
But not another minute shall he thus impose upon us. He shall go, and
that with such speed as will amaze him."
With this the angry commandant again descended to the court, summoned
all the able-bodied men of the garrison, and bade them form a double
line outside the guard-house door, after first providing themselves
with cudgels. "The red whelp inside," he said, "has without recompense
devoured our substance long enough. Now, therefore, I propose to send
him forth bearing tokens of our regard that may not be forgotten in
haste. Watch sharply, then, and remember that any man failing to deal
him at least one blow shall go without his supper this night. Are you
ready? It is well!"
Thus saying, Chauvin unlocked the guard-house door and flung it open
preparatory to stepping inside and driving out with blows its solitary
occupant. The next moment he was hurled sprawling to the ground, and a
slight, half-naked figure, animated by desperation, was darting with
such speed between the lines of unprepared soldiers that some failed
even to go through the motions of striking at him, while others wasted
their blows on the empty air. Uttering yells of delight at the novel
nature of this entertainment, they ran after him; but they might as
well have pursued a fleeting shadow. Before they could head him off he
had sped through the open gate and was gone.
After Tasquanto's visit Nahma's shutter had been nailed up, so that
he no longer had even the poor consolation of gazing out on the blank
wall of palisades. Nor could he employ his hands, for he was now in
darkness, save for such faint gleams as filtered down his chimney.
Under these conditions he believed that he might speedily die, and
planned for one last effort at escape before his waning strength should
turn to utter weakness. On that very day he had determined that when
next his prison door was opened it should never again close on his
living body. So he sat watching it with feverish impatience.
The roar of Chauvin's vengeful cannon startled him and at the same time
gave him a vague hope of some unusual happening that might result in
his favor. So he became keenly alert, and was not taken by surprise
when, without previous warning, the door of the guard-house was flung
open. Dropping from his shoulders the blanket which alone had saved
him from freezing, the youth sprang forward, reckless of consequences,
and a minute later, without an idea of how the miracle had been
accomplished, found himself outside the fort and speeding towards
the icebound river. So blinded were his eyes by the unaccustomed
light and glare of snow that until now he had seen nothing save the
figure that had opened his door, and his movements had been guided by
instinct rather than knowledge. The single fact indelibly impressed
upon his brain was that Tasquanto waited somewhere beyond the river.
Consequently that was the one direction for him to take, and he would
doubtless have plunged into its waters, had they been free, as readily
as he now leaped upon its snow-covered surface.
So long as he was within sight of the fort and within range of its guns
his strength lasted, and he sped forward with the same fleetness that
had formerly aroused the wonder of his Iroquois friends. Thus he gained
the middle of the river, and climbed a rugged ridge of hummocks and
huge ice-blocks upheaved during the final struggle of rebellious waters
against the mighty forces of the frost-king.
On the farther side of this our poor lad faltered, staggered, and
then sank with a groan. The nervous strength that had borne him thus
far was exhausted, and in this place of temporary safety it yielded
to the weakness of his long imprisonment. He had made a splendid dash
for liberty, but now he had reached the limit of his powers, and must
either be recaptured within a short space or die of the bitter cold.
Even as he lay with closed eyes gasping for breath he felt its numbing
clutch, and knew that very shortly he would be powerless against it.
But it did not matter. He would at least die in possession of the
freedom for which he had longed, and, after all, what had he to live
for? He was friendless, homeless, and without even a people whom he
might call his own. No tribe claimed him, there was no lodge within
which he had the right of shelter. It would be much better in the land
of spirits, for there his own would know him as he would know them.
The trail to it was easy and short, also it was a very pleasant path,
bright with sunshine and gay with flowers. There was music of singing
birds, and already were the voices of his own people calling to him.
"Massasoit!" they cried, "Massasoit!" Then they named him brother and
bade him open his eyes that he might see them. So he opened his eyes
and gazed into the anxious face of Tasquanto, who knelt beside him
rubbing vigorously at his limbs and slapping him smartly to restore
circulation in the numbing body.
He smiled happily at sight of Nahma's unclosed eyes, but did not for
an instant desist from his rubbings and slappings until the other at
length sat up, and then unsteadily regained his feet.
"Now, my brother," said Tasquanto, taking a robe of skins from his own
shoulders as he spoke and throwing it about Nahma, "together must we
reach the lodge I have prepared, for I will never return to it alone.
The trail is long and hard, but it must be overcome or we shall perish
together."
So the journey was begun, Nahma at first leaning heavily on his
comrade's supporting arm, but gaining new strength with each step.
As he had taken neither nourishment nor stimulant, this was wholly
owing to the effect upon his spirits of renewed hope and a cheery
companionship. As they walked Tasquanto told him how, ever since the
storm, his attempts at communication had been frustrated, how in the
mean time he had increased the comforts of his hidden lodge, how at
sound of Chauvin's cannon he had hastened towards the fort to learn
the cause of the firing, and of the overwhelming joy with which he
had discovered Nahma as the latter topped the ice-ridge in the middle
of the river. Then Nahma related as well as he could the details of
his wonderful escape from the fort, and by the time his narrative was
ended they were come to the rude lodge that Tasquanto had built in
anticipation of just such a need as had now arisen.