THE BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG
M. Radisson turned the sand-glass up to time our preparations. Before
the last grain fell we seven were out, led by M. Radisson, speeding
over the snow-drifted marsh through the thick frosty darkness that lies
like a blanket over that northland at dawn. The air hung heavy, gray,
gritty to the touch with ice-frost. The hard-packed drifts crisped to
our tread with little noises which I can call by no other name than
frost-shots. Frost pricked the taste to each breath. Endless reaches
of frost were all that met the sight. Frost-crackling the only sound.
Frost in one's throat like a drink of water, and the tingle of the
frost in the blood with a leap that was fulness of life.
Up drifts with the help of our muskets! Down hills with a rush of
snow-shoes that set the powdery snow flying! Skimming the levels with
the silent speed of wings! Past the snow mushrooms topping underbrush
and the snow cones of the evergreens and the snow billows of under
rocks and the snow-wreathed antlers of the naked forest in a world of
snow!
The morning stars paled to steel pin-pricks through a gray sky.
Shadows took form in the frost. The slant rays of a southern sun
struck through the frost clouds in spears. Then the frost smoke rose
like mist, and the white glare shone as a sea. In another hour it
would be high noon of the short shadow. Every coat--beaver and bear
and otter and raccoon--hung open, every capote flung back, every runner
hot as in midsummer, though frost-rime edged the hair like snow. When
the sun lay like a fiery shield half-way across the southern horizon,
M. Radisson called a halt for nooning.
"Now, remember, my brave lads," said he, after he had outlined his
plans, drawing figures of fort and ship and army of seven on the snow,
"now, remember, if you do what I've told you, not a shot will be fired,
not a drop of blood spilled, not a grain of powder used, and to every
man free tobacco for the winter--"
"If we succeed," interjects Godefroy sullenly.
"_If_," repeats M. Radisson; "an I hear that word again there will be a
carving!"
Long before we came to the north river near the Hudson's Bay Company's
fort, the sun had wheeled across the horizon and sunk in a sea of snow,
but now that the Prince Rupert had foundered, the capture of these
helpless Englishmen was no object to us. Unless a ship from the south
end of the bay came to rescue them they were at our mercy. Hastening
up the river course we met Governor Brigdar sledding the ice with a
dog-team of huskies.
"The compliments of the season to Your Excellency!" shouted Radisson
across the snow.
"The same to the representative of France," returned Governor Brigdar,
trying to get away before questions could be asked.
"I don't see your ship," called Radisson.
"Four leagues down the river," explained the governor.
"_Under_ the river," retorted Radisson, affecting not to hear.
"No--down the river," and the governor whisked round a bluff out of
call.
The gray night shadows gathered against the woods. Stars seeded the
sky overhead till the whole heavens were aglow. And the northern
lights shot their arrowy jets of fire above the pole, rippled in
billows of flame, scintillated with the faint rustling of a flag in a
gale, or swung midway between heaven and earth like censers to the
invisible God of that cold, far, northern world.
Then the bastions of Ben Gillam's fort loomed above the wastes like the
peak of a ship at sea, and M. Radisson issued his last commands.
Godefroy and I were to approach the main gate. M. Radisson and his
five men would make a detour to attack from the rear.
A black flag waved above the ship to signal those inland pirates whom
Ben Gillam was ever cursing, and the main gates stood wide ajar. Half
a mile away Godefroy hallooed aloud. A dozen New Englanders, led by
the lieutenant, ran to meet us.
"Where is Master Ben?" demanded the leader.
"Le capitaine," answered Godefroy, affecting broken English, "le
capitaine, he is fatigue. He is back--voilá--how you for speak
it?--avec, monsieur! Le capitaine, he has need, he has want for you to
go with food."
At that, with a deal of unguarded gabbling, they must hail us inside
for refreshments, while half a dozen men ran in the direction Godefroy
pointed with the food for their master. No sooner were their backs
turned than Godefroy whispers instructions to the marquis and his man,
who had been left as hostages. Forêt strolled casually across to the
guard-room, where the powder was stored. Here he posted himself in the
doorway with his sword jammed above the hinge. His man made a
precipitate rush to heap fires for our refreshment, dropping three logs
across the fort gates and two more athwart the door of the house.
Godefroy and I, on pretext of scanning out the returning travellers,
ran one to the nigh bastion, the other to the fore-deck of the ship,
where was a swivel cannon that might have done damage.
Then Godefroy whistled.
Like wolves out of the earth rose M. Radisson and his five men from the
shore near the gates. They were in possession before the lieutenant
and his men had returned. On the instant when the surprised New
Englanders ran up, Radisson bolted the gates.
"Where is my master?" thundered the lieutenant, beating for admission.
"Come in." M. Radisson cautiously opened the gate, admitting the
lieutenant alone. "It is not a question of where your master is, but
of mustering your men and calling the roll," said the Frenchman to the
astounded lieutenant. "You see that my people are in control of your
powder-house, your cannon, and your ship. Your master is a prisoner in
my fort. Now summon your men, and be glad Ben Gillam is not here to
kill more of you as he killed your super-cargo!"
Half an hour from the time we had entered the fort, keys, arms, and
ammunition were in M. de Radisson's hands without the firing of a shot,
and the unarmed New Englanders assigned to the main building, where we
could lock them if they mutinied. To sound of trumpet and drum, with
Godefroy bobbing his tipstaff, M. Radisson must needs run up the French
flag in place of the pirate ensign. Then, with the lieutenant and two
New Englanders to witness capitulation, he marched from the gates to do
the same with the ship. Allemand and Godefroy kept sentinel duty at
the gates. La Chesnaye, Forêt, and Jack Battle held the bastions, and
the rest stood guard in front of the main building.
From my place I saw how it happened.
The lieutenant stepped back to let M. de Radisson pass up the ship's
ladder first. The New Englanders followed, the lieutenant still
waiting at the bottom step; and when M. Radisson's back was turned the
lieutenant darted down the river bank in the direction of Governor
Brigdar's fort.
The flag went up and M. Radisson looked back to witness the salute.
Then he discovered the lieutenant's flight. The New Englanders'
purpose was easily guessed--to lock forces with Governor Brigdar, and
while our strength was divided attack us here or at the Habitation.
"One fight at a time," says Radisson, summoning to council in the
powder-house all hands but our guard at the gate. "You, Allemand and
Godefroy, will cross the marsh to-night, bidding Chouart be ready for
attack and send back re-enforcements here! You two lads"--pointing to
the stowaway and scullion--"will boil down bears' grease and porpoise
fat for a half a hundred cressets! Cut up all the brooms in the fort!
Use pine-boughs! Split the green wood and slip in oiled rags! Have a
hundred lights ready by ten of the clock! Go--make haste, or I throw
you both into the pot!
"You, Forêt and La Chesnaye, transfer all the New Englanders to the
hold of the ship and batten them under! If there's to be fighting, let
the enemies be outside the walls. And you, Ramsay, will keep guard at
the river bastion all night! And you, Jack Battle, will gather all the
hats and helmets and caps in the fort, and divide them equally between
the two front bastions----"
"Hats and helmets?" interrupts La Chesnaye.
"La Chesnaye," says M. Radisson, whirling, "an any one would question
me this night he had best pull his tongue out with the tongs! Go, all
of you!"
But Godefroy, ever a dour-headed knave, must test the steel of M. de
Radisson's mood.
"D'ye mean me an' the pilot to risk crossing the marsh by night----"
But he got no farther. M. de Radisson was upon him with a cudgel like
a flail on wheat.
"An you think it risk to go, I'll make it greater risk to stay! An you
fear to obey, I'll make you fear more to disobey! An you shirk the
pain of toeing the scratch, I'll make it a deal more painful to lag
behind!"
"But at night--at night," roared Godefroy between blows.
"The night--knave," hissed out Radisson, "the night is lighter than
morning with the north light. The night"--this with a last drive--"the
night is same as day to man of spirit! 'Tis the sort of encouragement
half the world needs to succeed," said M. Radisson, throwing down the
cudgel.
And Godefroy, the skulker, was glad to run for the marsh. The rest of
us waited no urgings, but were to our posts on the run.
I saw M. Radisson passing fife, piccolo, trumpet, and drum to the two
tatterdemalion lads of our army.
"Now blow like fiends when I give the word," said he.
Across the courtyard, single file, marched the New Englanders from
barracks to boat. La Chesnaye leading with drawn sword, the marquis
following with pointed musket.
Forêt and La Chesnaye then mounted guard at the gate. The sailor of
our company was heaping cannon-balls ready for use. Jack Battle
scoured the fort for odd headgear. M. de Radisson was everywhere,
seizing papers, burying ammunition, making fast loose stockades,
putting extra rivets in hinges, and issuing quick orders that sent Jack
Battle skipping to the word. Then Jack was set to planting double rows
of sticks inside on a level with the wall. The purpose of these I
could not guess till M. Radisson ordered hat, helmet, or cap clapped
atop of each pole.
Oh, we were a formidable army, I warrant you, seen by any one mounting
the drift to spy across our walls!
But 'twas no burlesque that night, as you may know when I tell you that
Governor Brigdar's forces played us such a trick they were under
shelter of the ship before we had discovered them.
Forêt and La Chesnaye were watching from loopholes at the gates, and I
was all alert from my place in the bastion. The northern lights waved
overhead in a restless ocean of rose-tinted fire. Against the blue,
stars were aglint with the twinkle of a million harbour lights. Below,
lay the frost mist, white as foam, diaphanous as a veil, every floating
icy particle aglimmer with star rays like spray in sunlight. Through
the night air came the far howlings of the running wolf-pack. The
little ermine, darting across the level with its black tail-tip marking
the snow in dots and dashes, would sit up quickly, listen and dive
under, to wriggle forward like a snake; or the black-eyed hare would
scurry off to cover of brushwood.
Of a sudden sounded such a yelling from the New Englanders imprisoned
in the ship, with a beating of guns on the keel, that I gave quick
alarm. Forêt and La Chesnaye sallied from the gate. Pistol-shots rang
out as they rounded the ship's prow into shadow. At the same instant,
a man flung forward out of the frost cloud beating for admittance. M.
de Radisson opened.
"The Indians! The Indians! Where are the New Englanders?" cried the
man, pitching headlong in.
And when he regained his feet, Governor Brigdar, of the Hudson's Bay
Company, stood face to face with M. de Radisson.
"A right warm welcome, Your Excellency," bowed M. de Radisson, bolting
the gate. "The New Englanders are in safe keeping, sir, and so are
you!"
The bewildered governor gasped at M. Radisson's words. Then he lost
all command of himself.
"Radisson, man," he stormed, "this is no feint--this is no time for
acting! Six o' my men shot on the way--four hiding by the ship and the
Indians not a hundred yards behind! Take my sword and pistol," he
proffered, M. de Radisson still hesitating, "but as you hope for
eternal mercy, call in my four men!"
After that, all was confusion.
Forêt and the marquis rushed pell-mell for the fort with four terrified
Englishmen disarmed. The gates were clapped to. Myriad figures darted
from the frost mist--figures with war-paint on their faces and bodies
clothed in white to disguise approach. English and French, enemies
all, crouched to the palisades against the common foe, with
sword-thrust for the hands catching at pickets to scale the wall and
volleying shots that scattered assailants back. The redskins were now
plainly visible through the frost. When they swerved away from shelter
of the ship, every bastion let go the roar of a cannon discharge.
There was the sudden silence of a drawing off, then the shrill
"Ah-o-o-o-oh! Ah-o-o-o-oh! Ah-o-o-o-oh!" of Indian war-cry!
And M. Radisson gave the signal.
Instantaneously half a hundred lights were aflare. Red tongues of fire
darted from the loop-holes. Two lads were obeying our leader's call to
run--run--run, blowing fife, beating drum like an army's band, while
streams of boiling grease poured down from bastions and lookout.
Helmets, hats, and caps sticking round on the poles were lighted up
like the heads of a battalion; and oft as any of us showed himself he
displayed fresh cap. One Indian, I mind, got a stockade off and an arm
inside the wall. That arm was never withdrawn, for M. Radisson's
broadsword came down, and the Indian reeled back with a yelping scream.
Then the smoke cleared, and I saw what will stay with me as long as
memory lasts--M. Radisson, target for arrows or shot, long hair flying
and red doublet alight in the flare of the torches, was standing on top
of the pickets with his right arm waving a sword.
"Whom do you make them out to be, Ramsay?" he called. "Is not yon Le
Borgne?"
I looked to the Indians. Le Borgne it was, thin and straight, like a
mast-pole through mist, in conference with another man--a man with a
beard, a man who was no Indian.
"Sir!" I shouted back. "Those are the inland pirates. They are
leading the Indians against Ben Gillam, and not against us at all."
At that M. Radisson extends a handkerchief on the end of his sword as
flag of truce, and the bearded man waves back. Down from the wall
jumps M. Radisson, running forward fearlessly where Indians lay
wounded, and waving for the enemy to come. But the two only waved back
in friendly fashion, wheeled their forces off, and disappeared through
the frost.
"Those were Ben Gillam's cut-throats trying to do for him! When they
saw us on the walls, they knew their mistake," says M. de Radisson as
he re-entered the gate. "There's only one way to find those pirates
out, Ramsay. Nurse these wounded Indians back to life, visit the
tribe, and watch! After Chouart's re-enforcements come, I'll send you
and Jack Battle, with Godefroy for interpreter!"
To Governor Brigdar and his four refugees M. de Radisson was all
courtesy.
"And how comes Your Excellency to be out so late with ten men?" he
asked, as we supped that night.
"We heard that you were here. We were coming to visit you," stammered
Governor Brigdar, growing red.
"Then let us make you so welcome that you will not hasten away! Here,
Jack Battle, here, fellow, stack these gentlemen's swords and pistols
where they'll come to no harm! Ah! No? But I must relieve you,
gentlemen! Your coming was a miracle. I thank you for it. It has
saved us much trouble. A pledge to the pleasure--and the length--of
your stay, gentlemen," and they stand to the toast, M. de Radisson
smiling at the lights in his wine.
But we all knew very well what such welcome meant. 'Twas Radisson's
humour to play the host that night, but the runaway lieutenant was a
prisoner in our guard-house.