quickened his powerful stroke. The others followed his lead and the five
blades dipped and rose with vigorous, rapid rhythm. The Indians ahead did
their best, bending to their paddles with desperate energy, but their
canoe was fully as large as Baptiste’s and they were two paddles to five.
The pursuers gained steadily. They must certainly overtake the fugitives.
Suddenly the fleeing canoe swerved towards the land. Keneu saw in an
instant what the two men were trying to do. They intended to beach their
boat and take to the woods, trusting to lose their pursuers in the thick
growth. The Indian bow-man gave a sharp order. Baptiste’s canoe swung in
towards shore. It must cut off the fugitives, get between them and the
land. The shore was steep and rocky, and there was no good place to beach
a boat. Yet so great was the panic of Monga and Red Band that they kept
straight on. Despairing of escape by water, they were ready to smash
their canoe on the rocks and take a chance of reaching land.
They did not even get near to the shore. In their panic haste, they
failed to notice a warning ripple and eddy ahead. Their canoe struck full
on the jagged edge of a rock just below the surface. The pursuers were
close enough to hear the ripping sound, as the sharp rock tore a great
gash in the thin bark. The water rushed in. Red Band sprang from the bow,
but Monga remained where he was in the stern, the canoe settling under
him.
The pursuers bent to their paddles and shot towards the wrecked boat.
They reached the spot just as Monga was going down, but they did not
intend to let him escape them by drowning. Keneu reached out a sinewy arm
and seized the sinking man by the neck of his deerskin shirt, while the
others threw their bodies the other way and backed water to hold the
canoe steady and keep it off the sharp rock.
The sensation of going down in that cold water must have instilled in
Monga a dread greater than his fear of capture, for he made no struggle
to free himself. As if the fellow had been a fish too large to be landed,
his captors passed him back from hand to hand until he came into the
keeping of the other Indian in the stern. The captive could not be pulled
aboard, so Manihik ordered him to hold to the rim. Kneeling face towards
the stern, he held Monga by the shoulders, and towed him behind the canoe
till Keneu found a landing place.
Red Band had disappeared. Blaise, who had watched, felt sure Monga’s
companion had not reached shore. He had gone down and had not come up.
Either he was unable to swim or had struck his head on a rock. Whatever
had happened, there was no sign of him.
When shallow water was reached, Manihik took good care that his dripping
prisoner should not escape. Monga was towed ashore and his wrists and
ankles bound with rawhide rope. He said not a word, his broad face sullen
and set.
Not until Blaise had asked him several questions in Ojibwa, did the
captive deign to speak. Even then he answered with reluctance, a word or
two at a time in sullen grunts. Then a question suddenly loosed his
tongue, and he poured out a torrent of guttural speech. The other two
Indians and Baptiste, who understood a little Ojibwa, listened intently,
but Hugh could make out no word, except the names Ohrante and Minong.
When Monga paused, Blaise, his hazel eyes shining, turned to his brother.
“We have not so many enemies to oppose us as we thought. Ohrante has only
five of his old men left. The young Iroquois who captured you is dead.”
“That fellow dead?” Hugh exclaimed. “Are you sure Monga isn’t lying?”
“He speaks the truth, I am certain,” Blaise replied confidently. “When
Ohrante found you had escaped, he was in a great rage. He held the young
Iroquois, Monga and Red Band to blame, and threatened all three with
death, unless they found you and brought you back. Because the small
canoe was gone, they believed you had escaped by water. We hoped the
empty canoe might drift up the bay, but they found it not. The Iroquois
thought you might have gone into the Bay of Manitos. Monga had no wish to
go there. He was afraid of the giant manitos, he says, but he was
desperate and at last agreed. They found our fire on the stones at the
end of that island. Monga believed you had crossed the mouth of the bay
and had gone on the other side of Minong, but the Iroquois wished to go
up the narrow channel. They went up the channel, as we know, to what they
believed to be the end. The shallow water and the fallen cedar deceived
them. So they turned back and went on across the mouth of the Bay of
Manitos.”
“What were Ohrante and the others doing all that time?”
“They searched the western side of Minong. Monga says Ohrante would not
go into the Bay of Manitos himself.”
“Then he evidently didn’t suspect our trick.”
“No, but I think perhaps the young Iroquois suspected, and that was why
he wished to search the bay.” Blaise went on with his tale. “Monga and
Red Band were in despair when they could not find you. They proposed that
the three of them should run away to the mainland, but the Iroquois was
too proud to be a coward. He wished to go on with the search or go back
to take the punishment. So Monga pretended he could see the end of a
canoe among the trees on an island. They landed, and Monga and Red Band
murdered the Iroquois and left him there. Then they started for the
mainland.”
“They were the ones we saw when we were going out of the bay.”
“Yes, they went around the long point, past that bay, and along the
northwest side of Minong, but the wind came up and they could not cross.
This morning they have crossed over.”
“We should have nothing further to fear from Monga then, even if we had
not captured him.”
Blaise shrugged contemptuously. “Monga is a coward and a fool. He says he
was angry because the traders sold him a bad musket. It exploded when he
tried to fire it and blew off his little finger. So he joined the Mohawk
wolf who boasted that he would drive the white men away. Monga thought
Ohrante was a great chief and a powerful medicine man, but when he
proposed to go to Minong, Monga was afraid. Then Ohrante told him that
Minong was a wonderful place where they would grow rich and mighty and
have everything they wished. He said he was such a great medicine man
that the spirits of the island would do his bidding.”
“And they didn’t,” put in Hugh with a grin.
The swift, flashing smile like his father’s crossed the younger boy’s
face. “Monga was disappointed to find Minong little different from the
mainland. When he heard the spirits threatening Ohrante and saw the chief
frightened, he began to lose faith in him. You escaped, and Ohrante’s
medicine was not strong enough to find you and bring you back. He would
not even go to the Bay of Manitos to seek you. So Monga knew the Chief of
Minong was just a man like other men. He has run away and wants no more
of Ohrante.”
“Just the same I think we had better keep an eye on him,” Hugh decided.
“We’ll take him with us.”
Blaise nodded. “There is still much Monga has not told us,” he replied.
It was finally settled that Baptiste and the two Indians should take the
prisoner with them, while Hugh and Blaise went on ahead in the captured
canoe. It was their plan to approach the Island of Torture under cover of
darkness. Conditions being good, the two boys paddled steadily. Late in
the afternoon they paused for a meal. They had not many more miles to go,
and would wait until nightfall. Before they had finished their supper,
Baptiste’s canoe came in sight. Monga had expressed willingness to wield
a paddle, but Baptiste did not trust him. The “Loon” rode as a compulsory
passenger, wrists and ankles still bound. At Hugh’s signal, Baptiste ran
in to shore to wait with the others for darkness.
XXXIV
MONGA’S STORY
During the enforced wait for nightfall, Blaise put more questions to the
Indian prisoner. Monga, anxious to ingratiate himself with his captors,
talked freely.
Ohrante, the captive said, after his first crime, capture and escape, had
fled with Monga and the other Ojibwa who had helped him to get away. At
the lake shore they had come across two Iroquois hunters, the tall fellow
with the malicious grin and another. When Ohrante proposed to take refuge
on Minong, the Ojibwas held back. The Mohawk, however, told them a long
story about how his mother, a captive among the Iroquois, had been a
direct descendant of the ancient tribe or clan who had once lived on
Minong and had mined copper there. Her ancestors had been chieftains of
that powerful people, Ohrante asserted, and he himself was hereditary
Chief of Minong. From his mother’s people and also from his father, who
was a Mohawk medicine man, the giant claimed to have inherited marvellous
magic powers. He had further increased those powers by going through
various mysterious experiences and ordeals. The manitos of Minong, he
said, awaited his coming. He had had a dream, several moons before, in
which the spirits, in the forms of birds and beasts, had appeared to him
and begged him to come and rule over them. They would do his bidding and
aid him to destroy his enemies and to become chief of all the tribes
about the Upper Lakes. He would unite those tribes into a powerful nation
and drive the white men from the country.
Persuaded by Ohrante’s arguments, the four Indians accompanied him to
Minong. Their first camp was made on the southwestern end of the island.
There Ohrante and the two Ojibwas, secure from pursuit, remained while
the others crossed again to the mainland and brought back more recruits,
an Ojibwa, a Cree and another Iroquois hunter. The band of eight roamed
about the western side of the island by land and water. Most of the
winter they spent in a long, narrow bay, where, according to Monga, they
found many pieces of copper. In the spring, in search of the wonders
their chief had promised them, they reached the northeastern end of the
island. Then came a hard storm of wind, rain and snow, accompanied by
fog. Three days after the storm, when the waves had gone down, the band
entered, for the first time, the bay west of the long point. There they
found and captured Jean Beaupré and Black Thunder. It was evident from
Monga’s tale that he knew nothing of the hidden furs. Ohrante had
accepted the story Jean Beaupré had told of having lost everything in the
storm, when his bateau, driven out of its course, had been dashed into a
rift in the rocks of the long point. Undoubtedly Beaupré must have had
some warning of the approach of the Indians, for he had had time, as the
boys knew, to secrete the furs. The fact that Black Thunder had suffered
an injury to one leg, when the boat was wrecked, might account for the
failure of the two to dodge the giant and his band.
When Monga finished this part of his story, Blaise turned from him to
translate to Hugh.
“Ask him,” the elder brother suggested, “if father knew he was on the
Isle Royale.”
Blaise put the question and translated the reply. “Monga says our father
knew not where he was. The weather was thick and cloudy, there was no sun
and it was not possible to see far. Our father thought he was somewhere
on the mainland. Ohrante did not tell him where he was. The chief wished
no man to know the hiding place. The prisoners were kept bound. They were
given something cooked from leaves that made them sleep sound. Then they
were put in the canoes and taken to the other end of the island. By night
they were brought across to the Isle of Torture.”
“That explains father’s not telling you where he was wrecked. He had no
idea he had been driven to Minong. But why did Ohrante bring his captives
away over here? What was his motive? Can you find out?”
Again Blaise asked a question, listening gravely to the answer. “Monga
says that he and Ohrante and the other Ojibwa camped on that little
island they now call the Isle of Torture, when they first escaped from
our father, and Ohrante dreamed that night that he had many white
captives and put them to the torture one after another. Monga thinks it
was because of that dream that the chief brought his captives over to
that island.”
“How did father escape?” Hugh questioned eagerly.
Again Blaise turned to Monga, and soon had the rest of the story. At the
Torture Island, Ohrante had met with several recruits, who brought with
them a supply of liquor stolen from some trading post. The torture of the
two captives, Ohrante’s part of the entertainment, was postponed until
night. During the day the party feasted and drank. They consumed all of
the liquor, which was full strength, not diluted with water as it usually
was before being sold to the Indians. By night the whole band were lying
about the island in a heavy stupor. Even the lookout, who had been
stationed in a tree to give warning of the approach of danger, had come
down to get his share.
When the band came to their senses next morning, they found the prisoners
gone. The thongs with which they had been tied lay on the ground, one
piece of rawhide having been worn through by being pulled across a
sharp-edged bit of rock. A canoe was gone and another had a great hole in
it, but a third boat, on the other side of the island, the prisoners had
not found. Monga’s Ojibwa comrade, the one who had helped Ohrante to
escape justice, had been set to guard the captives. In a rage, Ohrante
threatened the fellow with torture in their stead. The guard begged to be
allowed to track the escaped prisoners, and the chief consented. A high
wind had blown all night and the lake was rough, too rough for the
fugitives to have travelled far by water. The channel between shore and
island was protected from the wind, however, and some of the band crossed
and found the canoe the escaped prisoners had used. Black Thunder’s lame
leg prevented rapid travelling, and at the Devil Track River, the
negligent guard and one of the Iroquois overtook the fugitives. Stealing
quietly upon them, the Ojibwa attacked Jean Beaupré, the Iroquois, Black
Thunder. Black Thunder struggled desperately, and the Iroquois was
obliged to fight for his life. He slew Black Thunder, only to find his
Ojibwa companion lying dead a little farther on. Jean Beaupré was gone.
The Iroquois tried to follow Beaupré, but, being himself wounded, fell
fainting from loss of blood. Monga and another of the band, sent after
the two by Ohrante, found the Iroquois unable to travel without help. It
was Monga who had kindled the cooking fire, the remains of which Hugh had
found. Blaise spoke of finding the blood-stained tunic and Monga said
that the Iroquois had stripped it from Black Thunder, but Monga and the
other Indian would not let him carry the shirt away for fear of the
vengeance of the thunder bird pictured upon it. The three returned to the
Island of Torture without attempting to follow Beaupré farther. When the
lake calmed, two of the band took the winter catch of furs to the Grand
Portage and exchanged them for supplies. Then the whole party returned to
Minong, living for some time at the southern end. In a later raid they
captured the unfortunate Indian, Ohrante’s personal enemy, whom the boys
had seen being tortured. One of the chief’s men was killed in the
encounter, another deserted and several were left on the mainland to
obtain recruits.
The rest went back to Minong and travelled to the northern end again. In
the bay west of the long, high point, they found the spot the crew of the
_Otter_ had cleared, and built their wigwams there. The discovery that
someone else had visited the place made Ohrante a bit uneasy, and he kept
a lookout stationed on the high ridge. When the Beaupré brothers reached
the point, all of the band except two happened to be away on a hunting
trip. The two guards, neglectful of lookout duty, had failed to see the
lads approach. It must have been one of them who had fired the shot that
aroused the boys at dawn. Ohrante and one canoe of the hunting party
returned that very day. The call that had so startled Hugh, when he was
about to open the packet, was a signal from one of the camp guards to the
returning chief. Luckily for the brothers they were well hidden in the
pit, and Ohrante and his men were back at their camp long before the two
lads reached theirs. The other canoe of hunters did not return until the
following day. Luck had been poor, and Monga proposed to his companions
that they round the long, high point and look for game on the other side.
They were headed towards the rocky tip, when, suddenly, before their
astonished eyes, a giant form appeared on the open rocks. The giant
turned, looked straight at the canoe, then seemed to sink into the
ground. Just as he vanished, however, a second giant, even taller than
the first, loomed up. Monga and his comrades turned and fled. Monga
looked back once, just in time to see one of the giants spring up out of
the rocks, he said. The frightened Indians took refuge beyond the low
point on the other side of the bay, and stayed there until the fog came
in, before daring to venture to camp. They told Ohrante of seeing
Nanibozho and Kepoochikan on the end of the long point, but he, to
strengthen his followers’ belief in his magical powers, insisted next day
on rounding the point. In the Bay of Manitos, the Chief of Minong had the
scare of his life.
Darkness had come by the time Blaise had learned all this from the
prisoner and had translated it to Hugh and Baptiste. It was time to make
a start. Monga was left behind, and to prevent his crying out or
attracting attention in any way, he was gagged and tied to a tree. Then
the others embarked in Baptiste’s canoe. The weather favored them. The
night was dark, not a ray of moonlight penetrating the thick clouds. Only
a light breeze rippled the water and the air was unusually warm.
Noiselessly, through the deepest shadows, the canoe approached the Island
of Torture. From the upper end, the black mass appeared to be quite
deserted. No gleam of fire shone through the trees. As the canoe slipped
along close to the mainland, however, the flickering light of a small
fire appeared ahead. That fire was not on the island, but on the mainland
opposite. Swerving in to shore, the canoe was brought to a stop, its prow
just touching a bit of beach. Without speaking a word, and making
scarcely a sound, the five stepped out, deposited the boat upon the
pebbles and gathered around it in a knot.
Keneu, his mouth close to the half-breed boy’s ear, whispered a word or
two. Blaise nodded, and in an instant the Indian was gone into the
darkness. Blaise turned to Hugh and explained in the softest of whispers:
“Keneu goes to learn who they are.”
Silent, almost motionless, the rest of the party remained standing on the
bit of beach in the thick darkness of the sheltering bushes. Hugh’s eyes
were fastened on the black, silent island across the narrow channel. Had
Ohrante changed his plans? He felt his younger brother’s hand on his arm,
and turned about. He could just distinguish a low, hissing sound, which
he realized was the Indian making his report to Blaise.
The sound ceased and the boy’s lips were at Hugh’s ear. “There are four
men camping there. One is an Iroquois. They wait for Ohrante to come.
Then they go to the island.”
“He hasn’t come yet, then?” Hugh whispered back.
“No, these are new men except the Iroquois. They come to join Ohrante.
They have liquor, but the Iroquois will not let them drink until the
chief comes.”
“Then the only thing we can do is wait.”
“That is all. We can watch the island from here. When Ohrante comes we
shall know it.”
XXXV
THE FALL OF THE GIANT
As the wait might be long, the party decided to snatch a few minutes’
sleep, one of them remaining on the lookout for the arrival of the Chief
of Minong. It was some time after midnight, when Keneu, who was doing
guard duty, discerned something moving on the lake, coming down shore. He
laid his hand on the half-breed boy’s forehead, and Blaise woke at once.
“A canoe,” the Indian whispered.
Blaise raised his head to look. “The men from the Grand Portage. What
idiots! Why not keep closer in?”
The Indian’s hand pressed the lad’s shoulder warningly. “Wait,” he
breathed. “Let them go by.”
Secure in the black shelter of the alders that overhung the bit of beach,
Blaise watched the approaching canoe. It came on rapidly, confidently. As
it drew close in the darkness of the channel between mainland and island,
the boy’s eyes could make out no details. But his ears caught something
that made him heartily glad he had not signalled that canoe as had been
his first thought. What he heard was an order spoken in Ojibwa, in the
unmistakable, high-pitched, nasal voice of Ohrante. In obedience to the
command, the canoe swung away from the mainland towards the Island of
Torture, and disappeared in the blackness of its margin.
Blaise drew a long breath and whispered in Keneu’s ear, “Go watch the
camp and see what they do.”
Keneu made no reply, but Blaise knew he was gone, though he heard no
sound as the Indian slipped through the bushes. In the same quiet way
that Keneu had waked him, by laying his hand on the forehead of each,
Blaise aroused his companions. In a few minutes all were sitting up, wide
awake, staring at the dark water and the impenetrable blackness of the
island. There were no stars or moon. The air was unusually warm and
sultry. A pale flash lit up the dark sky for an instant. Some moments
later a low rumbling came to their ears. A storm now might spoil all
their plans, thought Hugh anxiously.
A gleam of light shone through the trees at the farther end of the
island. A fire had been kindled as a signal that the Chief of Minong had
arrived. Again the sky was lit by a white flash. Again the thunder rolled
and rumbled. From down the channel came a sound of splashing water. No
canoe, paddled by Indians, ever made such a splashing as that. “Have they
all jumped in? Are they swimming across?” thought Hugh.
Rolling over, he crawled down the beach. His head almost in the water, he
gazed down the channel. Another flash of lightning swept the sky. Hugh
crouched low, but in the instant of the illumination, he saw, crossing
from mainland to island, a canoe with several men, and in its wake
something black rising above the water. Hugh could not believe that the
swimming thing was really what, in the instant’s flash of light, it
appeared to be.
He turned to slip up the beach again, and found Blaise at his side. In
silence the two went back to their place beside the canoe. A few minutes
later, Blaise felt a hand on his shoulder, and Keneu’s voice spoke in his
ear, in a low, hissing whisper.
“They have left their camp. They have crossed to the island, where a fire
now burns.”
“How many canoes?”
“Only one.”
“Are other men coming?”
“I think not. I think they are the only ones.”
Hugh was growing impatient. It had been his intention to wait to put his
plan into operation until the party on the island had feasted and drunk
and were sleeping. The coming storm, however, threatened to thwart his
strategy. Bad weather might drive Ohrante and his band to the mainland in
search of better shelter. Even if they remained on the island, a violent
storm would delay action. In daylight he could not carry out his scheme,
and dawn was not far off. There was grave risk in acting now, but to
delay might mean to lose all chance of success. Again the lightning
flashed more brightly, the thunder rolled louder and at a shorter
interval. He must act now if at all. He put his mouth to his younger
brother’s ear.
“We must get those canoes. A storm may spoil our chance. We dare not
wait.”
“Yes,” agreed Blaise. He understood the situation quite as well as Hugh.
There was no need for more than the one word.
“You and I and Keneu will go,” Hugh went on. “When we get across, Keneu
must remain with our canoe. The others must stay here to stop the men
from the Grand Portage when they come.”
“Yes,” Blaise replied again, and rose to his feet. “Come,” he said
briefly to the Indian.
In a few whispered words, Hugh explained to Baptiste that he and Manihik
must remain where they were. The Frenchman was inclined to grumble. He
did not like the idea of the boys’ going into action without his support.
Hugh was firm, however, and as the whole plan was his, he was by right
the leader, so Baptiste was forced to submit. By the time Hugh had
finished his explanation, Blaise and Keneu had the canoe in the water.
Just as Hugh, as leader, took his place in the bow, a flash of lightning
lit up the sky. The moment the flash was over, the canoe was off, Blaise
in the center and Keneu in the stern. The paddling was left to the
Indian, Hugh dipping his blade only now and then on one side or the
other, as a signal to the steersman.