THE PLAN OF THE CAMPAIGN.
The night was black, gloomy, and storm-laden. The wind howled with a
mournful murmur through the branches; at each gust the trees shook
their damp crowns, and sent down showers, which pattered on the shrubs.
The sky was of a leaden hue; so great was the silence in the desert,
that the fall of a withered leaf, or the rustling of a branch touched
in its passage by some invisible animal, could be distinctly heard.
Ivon and his guides advanced cautiously through the forest, seeking
their road in the darkness, half lying on their horses, so as to avoid
the branches that lashed their faces at every moment. Owing to the
endless turns they were compelled to take, nearly two hours elapsed
ere they left the forest. At length they debouched on the plain, and
found themselves almost simultaneously on the banks of the Missouri.
The river, swollen by rain and snow, rolled along its yellowish waters
noisily. The fugitives followed the bank in a south-western direction.
Now that they had struck the river, all uncertainty had ceased for
them; their road was so distinctly traced that they had no fear of
losing it.
On arriving at a spot where a point of sand jutted out for several
yards into the bed of the river, and formed a species of cape, from
the end of which objects could be seen for some distance, owing to the
transparency of the water, Red Wolf made a sign to his companions to
halt, and himself dismounted. Prairie-Flower and Ivon imitated him.
Ivon was not sorry to take a few moments' rest, and, above all, make
some inquiries before proceeding further. At the first blush, carried
away by an unreflecting movement of the heart, which impelled him to
save his master by any means that offered, he had not hesitated to
follow his two strange guides; but, with reflection, distrust had
returned still more powerfully, and the Breton was unwilling to go
further with the persons he had met, until he possessed undoubted
proofs of their honesty.
So soon as he had dismounted then, and taken off his horse's bridle,
so that it should crop the tender shoots, Ivon walked up boldly to the
Redskin, and struck him on the shoulder. The Indian, whose eyes were
eagerly fixed on the rider, turned to him.
"What does the Paleface want?" he asked him.
"To talk a little with you, Chief."
"The moment is not good for talking," the Indian answered,
sententiously; "the Palefaces are like the mockingbird; their tongues
must be ever in motion; let my brother wait."
Ivon did not understand the epigram.
"No," he said, "we must talk at once."
The Indian suppressed an impatient gesture.
"The Red Wolf's ears are open," he said; "_the Chattering Jay_ can
explain himself."
The Redskins, finding some difficulty in pronouncing the names of
people with whom the accidents of the chase or of trade bring them into
relation, are accustomed to substitute for these names others, derived
from the character or physical aspect of the individual they wish to
designate. Ivon was called by the Blackfoot Indians the Chattering
Jay, a name whose justice we will refrain from discussing. The Breton
did not seem annoyed by what Red Wolf said to him; absorbed by the
thought that troubled him, every other consideration was a matter of
indifference to him.
"You promised me to save Glass-eye," he said.
"Yes," the Chief answered, laconically.
"I accepted your propositions without discussion; for three hours I
have followed you without saying anything; but, before going further, I
should not be sorry to know the means you intend to employ to take him
out of the hands of the enemy."
"Is my brother deaf?" the Indian asked.
"I do not think so," Ivon answered, rather wounded by the question.
"Then let him listen."
"I am doing so."
"My brother hears nothing?"
"Not the least, I am free to confess."
Red Wolf shrugged his shoulders.
"The Palefaces are foxes without tails," he said, with disdain; "weaker
than children in the desert. Let my brother look," he added, pointing
to the river.
Ivon followed the direction indicated, winking, and placing his hands
over his eyes, to concentrate the visual rays.
"Well," the Indian asked, after a moment, "has my brother seen?"
"Nothing at all," the Breton said, violently. "May the evil one twist
my neck, if it is possible for me to distinguish anything."
"Then my brother will wait a few minutes," the Indian said, perfectly
calm; "he will then see and hear."
"Hum!" the Breton went on, but slightly satisfied with this
explanation. "What shall I see and hear?"
"My brother will know."
Ivon would have insisted, but the Chief took him by the arm, pushed him
back, and hid with him behind a clump of trees, where Prairie-Flower
was already ensconced.
"Silence!" the Redskin muttered, in such an imperative tone that the
Breton, convinced of the gravity of the situation, deferred to a more
favourable moment the string of questions he proposed asking the Chief.
A few minutes elapsed. Redskin and Prairie-Flower, with their bodies
bent forward, and carefully parting the leaves, looked eagerly in the
direction of the river, while holding their breath. Ivon, bothered in
spite of himself by this sort of conduct, imitated their example. A
sound soon struck on his ears, but so slight and weak, that at first
he fancied himself mistaken. Still the noise grew gradually louder,
resembling that of paddles cautiously dipped in the water; next, a
black dot, at first nearly imperceptible, but which grew larger by
degrees, appeared on the river.
There was soon no doubt in the Breton's mind. The black dot was a
canoe. On arriving within a certain distance, the sound could be no
longer heard, and the canoe remained motionless about halfway between
the two banks. At this moment the cry of the jay broke the silence,
repeated thrice, with such perfection, that Ivon instinctively raised
his head to the upper branches of the tree that sheltered them. Upon
this signal, the canoe began drawing nearer the cape, where it soon ran
ashore; but upon landing, the person in it raised the paddle twice in
the air. The cry of the jay was heard again, thrice repeated.
Upon this, the rower, perfectly reassured, as it seemed, leaped on the
sand, drew the canoe half out of the water, and walked boldly in the
direction of the clump of trees that served Ivon and his comrades as
an observatory. The latter, deeming it useless to wait longer, quitted
their shelter, and walked toward the newcomer, after recommending the
Breton not to show himself without their authority. This order he
obeyed; but, with that prudence which distinguished him, he cocked his
pistols, took one in each hand, and, reassured by this precaution,
waited what was about to happen.
The new actor who had entered on the scene, and in whom the reader
will have recognised Mrs. Margaret, had left Major Melville only about
an hour previously, after having that conversation we have repeated.
Although she did not expect to meet Prairie-Flower at this spot,
she did not appear at all astonished at seeing her, and gave her a
friendly nod, to which the girl responded with a smile.
"What is there new?" she asked the Indian.
"Much," he replied.
"Speak."
The Red Wolf thereupon told her all that had happened during the chase;
in what way he had learned it, and how Ivon had escaped in order to
seek help for his master. Margaret listened to the long story without
letting a sign of emotion to be seen on her wrinkled, grief-worn face.
When Red Wolf had ceased speaking, she reflected for a few moments;
then raising her head, asked--
"Where is the Paleface?"
"Here," the Indian answered, pointing to the clump of trees.
"Let him come."
The Chief turned to fetch him, but the Breton, who had heard the last
word spoken in English, and judged that it was intended for him, left
his hiding place, after returning the pistols to his belt, and joined
the party. At this moment the first gleam of day began to appear,
the darkness was rapidly dissipated, and a reddish hue, which formed
on the extreme limit of the horizon, indicated that the sun would
speedily rise. The She-wolf fixed on the Breton her cunning eye, as if
desirous to read the depths of his heart. Ivon had nothing to reproach
himself with, and hence he bravely withstood the glance. The She-wolf,
satisfied with the dumb interrogatory to which she had subjected the
Breton, softened down the harsh expression of her face, and at length
addressed him in a voice she attempted to render conciliatory.
"Listen attentively," she said to him.
"I am listening."
"You are devoted to your master?"
"To the death," Ivon answered, firmly.
"Good: then I can reckon on you?"
"Yes."
"You understand, I suppose, that we four cannot save your master?"
"That appears to me difficult, I allow."
"But we wish to revenge ourselves on Natah Otann."
"Very good."
"For a long time our measures have been taken to gain this end at a
given moment; that moment has arrived; but we have allies we must warn."
"It is true."
She drew a ring from her finger.
"Take this ring; you know how to use a paddle, I suppose?"
"I am a Breton, that is to say, a sailor."
"Get into the canoe lying there, and without losing a moment, go down
the river till you reach a fort."
"Hum! is it far?"
"You will reach it in less than an hour if you are diligent."
"You may be sure of that."
"So soon as you have arrived at the fort, you will ask speech with
Major Melville; give him that ring, and tell him all the events of
which you have been witness."
"Is that all?"
"No; the Major will give you a detachment of soldiers, with whom you
will join us at Black's clearing: can you find your way there again?"
"I think so; especially as it is on the river bank."
"Yes; and you will have to pass it before reaching the fort."
"What shall I do with the canoe?"
"Abandon it."
"When must I start?"
"At once; the sun has risen, we must make haste."
"And what are you going to do?"
"I told you we were going to Black's clearing, where we shall wait for
you."
The Breton reflected for a minute.
"Listen, in your turn," he said; "I am not in the habit of discussing
orders, when I think those given us are just; I do not think that you
intend, under such grave circumstances, to mock a poor devil, whom
grief renders half mad, and who would joyfully sacrifice his life to
save his master's."
"You are right."
"I am therefore going to obey you."
"You should have done so already."
"Maybe; but I have a last word to say."
"I am listening."
"If you deceive me, if you do not really help me, as you pledge
yourself, in saving my master--I am, a coward, that is notorious; but
on my word as a man, I will blow out your brains: even were you hidden
in the bowels of the earth, I would go and seek you to fulfil my oath.
You hear me?"
"Perfectly! and now have you finished?"
"Yes."
"Then be off."
"I am doing so."
"Good-bye, till we meet again."
The Breton bowed once more, pulled the boat into the water, jumped
in, and hurried off at a rate which showed he would soon reach his
destination. His ex-companions looked after him till he was hidden by a
bend in the river.
"And now what are we going to do?" Prairie-Flower asked.
"Go to the clearing, to arrange with John Black."
Margaret mounted Ivon's horse, Prairie-Flower and Red Wolf each
took their own, and the three started at a gallop. By a fortunate
coincidence, it was a day chosen by the squatter to give his family a
rest, and, as we have said, he had gone out with William to take a look
at his property. After a long ride, during which the squatter had burst
into ecstasies only known to landed proprietors, they were preparing to
return to their fortress, when William pointed out to his father the
three mounted persons coming towards them at full gallop.
"Hum!" Black said, "Indians, that is an unpleasant meeting! let us hide
behind this clump, and try to find out what they want."
"Stay, father," the young man said, "I believe that precaution
unnecessary."
"Why so, boy?"
"Because of the party two are women."
"That is no reason," the squatter said, who, since the attack, had
become excessively prudent; "you know that in these bad tribes the
women fight as well as the men."
"That is true; but stay, they are unfolding a buffalo robe in sign of
peace."
In fact, one of the riders at this moment fluttered a robe in the
breeze.
"You are right, boy," the squatter observed, presently; "let us await
them; the more so, as, if I am not mistaken, I can recognize an old
acquaintance among them."
"The woman who saved us, I believe."
"Right; by Jove! the meeting is a strange one. Poor woman, I am
delighted to see her again."
Ten minutes later the parties joined; after the first salutations, the
She-wolf took the word.
"Do you recognize me, John Black?"
"Of course I do, my worthy woman," he replied, with emotion; "although
I only saw you for a few moments, and under terrible circumstances, the
remembrance of you has never left my heart and mind; I have only one
wish, and that is, that you will give me the opportunity to prove it."
A flash of joy shot from the She-wolfs eye.
"Are you speaking seriously?" she asked, quickly.
"Try me."
"Good; I was not deceived in you. I am glad of what I did. I see that
the service I rendered you has not fallen on ungrateful soil."
"Speak."
"Not here: what I have to tell you is too lengthy and serious for us to
be able to discuss it properly at this place."
"Will you come to my house? There you need not be afraid of being
disturbed."
"If you permit it."
"What, my good creature, permit it? Why, the house, all it contains,
and the owner in the bargain, all are yours, and you know it."
Margaret smiled sadly.
"Thanks!" she said, offering him her hand, which Black pressed gladly.
"Come," he said, "as we have nothing more to do here, let us be off."
They started in the direction of the house; but the return was silent;
each, absorbed in thought, rode on without thinking of addressing a
word to the other. They were but a short distance from the house, when
they suddenly saw some twenty horsemen debouch from a wood on the
right, dressed, as far as could be distinguished, as wood rangers.
"What is this?" Black said, with astonishment, as he pulled his horse
up.
"Eh!" the She-wolf said, not replying to the squatter. "The Frenchman
has been diligent."
"What do you mean?"
"I will explain all that presently; for the present you need only offer
your hospitality to these good people."
"Hum!" Black said, doubtingly. "I shall be glad to do it, but must know
who they are, and what they want of me."
"They are Americans; like yourself. I asked the commandant of the fort
where they are stationed to send them here."
"What fort and what garrison are you talking of, my good woman? On my
soul! I do not know what you mean."
"What! have you not learned to know your neighbours since you have been
here?"
"What! have I neighbours?" he said, in an angry tone.
"About ten miles off is Fort Mackenzie, commanded by a brave officer,
Major Melville."
At this explanation the squatter's face was unwrinkled; it was not a
rival, but a defender he had as neighbour, hence all was for the best.
"Oh, I will go and pay him my respects," he said; "the acquaintance of
a fort commandant is not to be neglected in the desert."
Major Melville sent off at once the detachment asked by his sister;
but reflecting that soldiers could not execute so well as hunters
the meditated _coup de main_, he chose twenty hardened and resolute
trappers and _engagés_ under the command of an officer who had been
a long time in the Fur Company's service, and was versed in all the
tricks of the crafty enemies he would have to fight.
At the foot of the hill the two parties combined. Black, though still
ignorant for what purpose the detachment had come, received most
affably the reinforcement sent to him. Ivon was radiant; the worthy
Breton, now that he could dispose of such a number of good rifles,
believed in the certainty of saving his master; all his suspicions
had disappeared, and he burst forth into apologies and thanks to the
She-wolf and her two Indian friends. So soon as all were comfortably
lodged in the building, Black returned to his guests, and, after
offering them refreshments, said--
"Now, I am waiting for your explanation."
As we shall soon see the development of the plans formed at this
meeting, it is useless to describe them.