A DEATH-DEALING THUNDER-STICK
Tasquanto's lodge was snugly hidden in a dense growth of heavy timber
near the place where the Chaudière flows into the St. Lawrence. It was
merely a frame of poles covered so thickly with branches of fragrant
spruce and balsam that it presented the appearance of a green mound
rising above the surrounding snow. Its walls were so thick as to be
almost wind-proof, and in the middle of its earthen floor was a small
circle of stones that formed a rude fireplace. In this only the dryest
of wood was burned, and the little smoke that resulted escaped through
an aperture left in the roof. On two sides were elastic beds of spruce
boughs covered deep with flat hemlock branches and balsam tips. The
very air of the place was a tonic, and the escaped captive, fresh from
the foulness of his prison, drew in eager breaths of its life-giving
sweetness as he sank wearily, but happily, down on the nearest pile of
boughs.
As he lay there gazing about the rude shelter with an air of perfect
content he uttered frequent exclamations of amazement, for Tasquanto
was drawing from various hiding-places an array of treasures such as
no Indian of Nahma's acquaintance had ever before possessed: a copper
kettle, a steel hatchet, two knives, a blanket, several glass bottles,
and a fragment of mirror. Then, with conscious pride, but also with
evident trepidation, he produced the most wonderful trophy of all, a
rusty musket, one of the awful thunder-sticks that rendered the white
man all-powerful.
During the night of the great storm the entire garrison of Quebec
had gathered for warmth in the hall of the commandant's house, and
Tasquanto had taken advantage of this to make a foray into the deserted
barracks with the above result. He had brought away the musket with
fear and trembling, dreading lest it might explode and kill him at any
moment. Even now he handled it cautiously, while Nahma could not for
some time be persuaded to touch it. So it was laid carefully down, and
he was permitted to feast his eyes on the marvel while Tasquanto busied
himself in preparing a feast of more substantial character.
He had been so fortunate as to discover the winter den of a bear, which
he had also succeeded in killing, so that now he could offer his guest
not only the warmth of a shaggy robe but an abundance of meat. Instead
of half-burning and half-cooking a chunk of this on the coals, as was
the custom of his people, he displayed a rudiment of civilization by
cutting it up into small bits and stewing them in his copper kettle.
After the youths had eaten heartily of this meal, which, simple as it
was, proved more satisfactory to Nahma than the very best of those
given him in Quebec, they spent several hours in discussing their
plans for the future and in examining Tasquanto's treasures. Having
overcome his awe of the thunder-stick sufficiently to take it in his
hands, Nahma became anxious to test its powers. He had seen Champlain
discharge his musket, and knew that it was done through the agency of
a lighted slow-match applied to the priming-pan. His knowledge of the
firing of a gun was thus far in advance of Tasquanto's, who, having
never witnessed the operation at close range, had no idea of how it was
accomplished. But he was quite willing to learn, and so it was agreed
that on the following morning Nahma should give the owner of the musket
his first lesson in its use.
Both of them were so excited over the prospect of experimenting for
their own benefit with the deadly thunder of the white man that they
lay awake most of the night discussing their proposed adventure; and,
as a consequence, slept much later than they had intended on the
following morning. The day was well advanced, therefore, when the two
lads, after preparing and eating another hearty meal, stepped outside
to test their newly acquired weapon. It was carried by Nahma, who,
nervous with excitement, still presented a bold front, while, under his
direction, Tasquanto fetched a blazing brand from the fire.
Resting the barrel of his piece across the trunk of a prostrate tree
and holding its stock at arm's length, Nahma bade his companion apply
fire to the pan. With much trepidation and a strong desire to clap
both hands to his ears, Tasquanto valiantly did as he was bidden, but
without result. Again and again did he apply the glowing coal, but
still the gun refused to obey the wishes of its inexperienced owners.
"It will only speak and deal out its death-medicine at the command of
white men," said Tasquanto, disconsolately.
"Not so," replied Nahma, "for once I saw it obey the will of a Huron
warrior. But I think I know what is needed. It must be turned over so
that the flame may rise to it. Also in this weather the thunder-stick
is so cold that it will take much fire to warm it into action. Make,
therefore, a hot blaze, and I am assured that something will happen."
So Nahma turned the gun, and, forgetting to remain at arm's length,
bent anxiously over the refractory piece, while Tasquanto built a
regular fire beneath it. Of a sudden the musket went off with a
tremendous report that roused the woodland echoes for miles. Also it
sprang savagely backward, bowling over both Nahma and Tasquanto as
though they had been ninepins. But the most astounding result of the
discharge was a series of shrieks and yells that resounded through the
forest as though it were peopled by a pack of demons. At the same time
a number of leaping figures dashed from an extensive thicket at which
the gun had been inadvertently pointed and fled as though for their
lives. Something had assuredly happened.
As our bewildered lads cautiously lifted their heads to learn the
extent of the damage done by the fearful force they had so recklessly
let loose, each was thankful to see that the other was still alive.
Next they glanced at the musket. It lay half buried in the snow,
looking as innocent and harmless as a stick of wood; but they knew
of what terrible things it was capable, and would hereafter be very
careful how they allowed it to come into contact with fire. They were
convinced that in some unexplained manner it could absorb flame until
it had accumulated a certain quantity and could then eject this with
deadly effect.
Being reassured concerning their own condition and the present
harmlessness of the musket, they next bethought themselves of the
dreadful cries that had seemed to mingle with the report, and they
agreed that these must have been uttered by the Okis, or spirits of
the forest, in protest against such a rude disturbance of its winter
quiet. As they stiffly picked themselves up, Nahma declared his
intention of visiting the thicket towards which the thunder-stick had
been pointed, to see whether he could discover where its lightnings had
struck. Tasquanto tried to dissuade him, declaring that the place must
be the abode of Okis; but to this Nahma answered that if so they were
certainly frightened away for the present, which would therefore be the
best time to visit their haunts.
So the two cautiously made their way in that direction, and had not
gone more than fifty paces when they came upon a sight almost as
startling as had been the discharge of the musket. It was the dead
body of a Huron warrior not yet cold. His life's blood still trickled
from a jagged wound in the breast and crimsoned the snow on which he
had fallen. On all sides of him were other signs that told as plainly
as spoken words how narrowly our lads had escaped falling into the
hands of a merciless foe. There were marks of a cautious approach
along the trail they themselves had made the day before, of the halt
for observation when the intended victims were discovered, and of the
panic-stricken flight that followed the unexpected musket-fire by which
one of their number had been so suddenly killed.
"The thunder-stick is indeed a god," remarked Nahma. "It can discover
and kill the enemies of those to whom it is friendly even before they
have knowledge of approaching danger."
"Yes," replied Tasquanto, as he coolly scalped the dead Huron; "with
it to fight on our side we are become as sagamores, terrible and
all-powerful. I will take it to my own people, and when it shall lead
them in battle who will be able to stand before them? Even the white
men, whom many still think to be gods, are now no stronger than we. Oh,
my friend! let us shout for joy, since in all the world there is no man
more powerful than are Massasoit and Tasquanto, his brother."
When the exultant young warriors returned to camp, bearing with them
the trophies of their exploit, they also carried, very reverently,
the weapon which they termed a "thunder-god," and which had rendered
them such notable service. Then, while Nahma set to work on a pair
of snow-shoes, Tasquanto, who had seen the French soldiers oil and
burnish their guns, coated his with bear's grease, removed its
smoke-stains, and rubbed its barrel until it shone. When he had done
for it everything that his limited knowledge prescribed, he placed
it in a corner where they could constantly admire it, and began the
construction of a rude toboggan of bark.
By the time this was completed Nahma's snow-shoes were also ready
for service, and the fugitives were prepared to start on their long
southward journey. For a beginning of this they made their way slowly
up to the head-waters of the Chaudière, crossed a rugged divide to
those of the Penobscot, and there established a permanent camp. From
this they set lines of traps that yielded a rich reward in the way of
pelts, and before spring opened they got out the frame of a canoe. As
soon as sap began to run in the birch-trees they secured enough bark to
cover it, and by the time the river opened they were prepared to float
with its current to the country of Tasquanto's people.
Their voyage down the swift-rushing river was filled with adventures
and with hair-breadth escapes. Not only were they in almost constant
danger from foaming rapids and roaring waterfalls, but only unceasing
vigilance and an occasional display of their musket saved them from
death or capture by the hostile tribes through whose territory they
passed.
At length they carried around the last cataract and entered upon the
long, broad reaches by which the river flowed in dignified majesty to
the sea. This was Tasquanto's country, and now they might watch for the
villages in which he would be assured a friendly welcome.
Finally one was sighted, and Nahma proposed that, after the custom
of white men on returning from victorious expeditions, they should
discharge their thunder-stick. Nothing loath to add to his own
importance by such an announcement of their coming, Tasquanto promptly
assented to this proposition. So they landed a few hundred yards above
the village and made preparations for the second discharge of their
formidable weapon.