Down the Mighty St. Lawrence
"We ain't out er the wood by no means," said Jim, when the canoe had
shot past the city and had lost the lights behind a promontory of the
Isle of Orleans, "cos there's the journey back. Judge thinks as we'd
best make down stream for the sea, and cut out to Halifax or some
other place, wherever our chaps may be. There's talk of an expedition
to Louisbourg, and, of course, that's somewheres at the mouth of the
river. Now, ef it was me alone----"
"You'd make up stream, or even enter the Richelieu," burst in Mr.
Mainwaring, "and for the simple reason that you have never even seen
the ocean, nor even a big ship. You are at home in the forest, and
feel that you could more surely reach friends in that way."
"Thet's the case, Judge, in a nutshell."
"But I happen to know that the forests south of this are swarming with
Indians. We had the utmost difficulty in making to the north, and we
have to remember that the escape of the prisoner will within a couple
of days be associated with the disappearance of the band of Hurons.
That will rouse the French, and they will send urgent messages down to
the neighbourhood of Ticonderoga. No, my friends, I have good reason
to know that Frontenac is almost deserted at this moment, so that we
might escape that way. Even then there would be a very long strip of
forest to traverse, and many enemies in it. The mouth of the river
is our easiest way, for once clear of the neighbourhood and safe on
a suitable vessel, no one can catch us. And French vessels down the
stream will be deceived by our hoisting a French flag, while the mouth
itself is patrolled by our fleet."
Mr. Mainwaring had, in fact, supplied himself with all the available
information before venturing on this hazardous journey to Quebec,
for an intelligent man, such as he was, knew very well that such an
expedition was fraught with much danger, and that if not carefully
planned in every detail, it would very likely end in disaster. The
reader will remember that Pitt had come into power, and that one of
the chief items of his programme against the French was to be an
attack on the formidable fort of Louisbourg. Our ships were on the way
there from Halifax already, and it was clear that safety lay in that
direction for Steve and his friends if only they could descend the
river.
"I can see that it will be easier to make down by the water than to
march miles and miles through the forest, scouting every foot of the
way," Steve said. "What about a suitable boat, father? We shall want
something bigger than this canoe, for this would never live down at
the mouth. I understand that it is like an open sea there, and that it
is often very rough."
"It is swept by sudden gales, even in the summer," was the answer.
"As for a boat to take us to our friends, there is one lying down at
the tail of this island, and just within sight of Quebec. She lies, I
should say, eight or ten miles from the city, so that any commotion
aboard will not be seen or heard. That is the vessel we are going to
capture, Steve. How we are going to do it is another matter. We must
discuss that. Meanwhile we shall paddle down beside the island till
about a mile from the end, and there we shall tie up."
Accordingly the paddles were kept moving gently, for the stream was
strong here, and it was hardly necessary to urge the canoe along. Half
an hour later the signal was given, and they turned the nose of the
bark canoe into the bank, and Silver Fox made her fast there to some
overhanging branches.
"Guess we can put in a sleep," said Jim, yawning widely. "The nights
are getting very short now, so it won't be long before we are up and
doin'. Who'll take the watch?"
"I will," answered Steve promptly. "Turn in all of you and sleep. I
will rouse you an hour before it is light. By the way, shall we settle
this question of the capture of the boat to-morrow?"
"Onless you've got somethin' fixed already, Cap'n. Blest ef you ain't
now. I knows that by yer voice. Spout it out, boy, and let's know
what it is. He was always like this when cap'n of the band, Judge.
Kind er suggestin' a discussion when he'd got the hul thing settled in
his own mind. Spin it out, Steve."
"There is nothing in it, only I thought we had better settle the
matter now. We shall be dull and sleepy in the early morning. I fancy
our best plan is to be that Huron party out fishing. There are plenty
of Indian canoes about on the river every day, and often enough the
men are fishing. We can do the same, and gradually drift down to the
boat. But have we lines aboard?"
"You bet. There's half a dozen in Flyin' Bird's pouch."
"Then I will bait a couple now and fish. We must have a few fish with
us, and when we get opposite the boat we will offer some to the men
aboard. Thus we shall have an excuse for hanging on to the boat, and a
couple can clamber aboard. If the rest of us cannot do the same---"
"You've said enough, Steve, so you have," cried Mac, opening his
capacious mouth for the first time for many an hour. "If others cannot
follow, why, me name's not Mac. Sure, we'll be rhunnin' over the decks
afore you can count yer fingers."
"Then pass the lines and get to sleep."
Steve sat in the centre of the canoe while the hours of darkness
passed. On either side of him sprawled his companions, lying packed as
closely as possible, for a bark canoe is never of great dimensions,
and though this was a large one, it gave little room for men who
wished to sleep. In addition, a craft of this sort was very liable
to capsize, particularly when manned by novices. But Steve and his
friends had learned to manage these canoes when they were very young,
and could move about in them, spear fish over the side, and even sleep
in them with the utmost security.
Almost before he was prepared for it, Steve saw a streak of white
break across the black sky towards the east, and knew that dawn would
not be long in coming. In half an hour it was beginning to get light,
and he at once roused his companions.
"Time's up," he called out softly. "Rouse yourselves and rub the sleep
out of your eyes. Now, I vote for a meal before we start. Then, if
there is trouble, we shall be able to struggle on for a long while
without wanting food."
They followed his advice with eagerness, for the night's adventure had
sharpened their appetites. But very soon the meal was ended, and there
being nothing further to wait for, they cast off from the branches,
paddled well out into the river, and then, taking in their paddles,
drifted down the stream, each one of the party, with the exception of
Jim, who steered with the tip of his paddle, having a line overboard.
"There yer air," he said some minutes later. "Best not look all
together, lest they should get suspicious. Thar's the boat, boys, and
a bonny one she seems. I reckon she's ten times bigger'n this."
"Forty times," answered Mr. Mainwaring. "She is quite a large craft,
and not far short of eighty tons. If so, there are few of larger
size that ever venture up the river. That is a peculiarity about the
French. I believe they have seldom brought a boat of more than a
hundred tons up to Quebec. And yet there must be sufficient water,
though there are shoals here and there, and the passage is considered
dangerous. She will suit us well, boys. In a little while we shall be
exchanging our rôle of Huron Indians for that of a sailor. Lucky it is
for us all that one of our numbers has sailed a boat before."
"We ain't aboard yet, Judge," said Jim, rather suddenly. "Steve,
you've lived a year in these parts. What do yer make of them critters
away over thar under the island? You others keep on fishin'. 'Twon't
do to seem curious."
Steve raised his head slowly, drew in his line, and threw it out from
the other side of the canoe. The movement gave him the opportunity
of looking in the direction Jim had indicated, where he saw a large
ship's boat pulling out from the tail end of the island. She was
manned by six sailors, and swept through the water at a rapid pace. In
addition, the white coats of four passengers proclaimed that they were
regulars from the French garrison, while an equal number of Indians
crouched by the thwarts. In the stern sat a man who was huddled in a
cloak, for the early morning was chilly.
"I should say that she is a patrol, probably ordered to search all
vessels and boats which come south of the island. Perhaps her crew
have directions to turn all back who come so far. I don't like the
look of those fellows, but we must not appear to be alarmed. Go on
fishing, all of you, and just see that your muskets are handy. Flying
Bird, be ready to answer them."
He addressed the Indian in Mohawk, and then tossed his line again,
pulling up a fish a moment or two later quite coolly and leisurely.
Meanwhile his comrades went on with their fishing, without even
turning their heads, for they were one and all trained men, who
knew by experience that the simple turning of a head was sometimes
sufficient to cause suspicion. They betrayed not the slightest
curiosity, but pulled in their fish or rebaited their hooks with
wonderful unconcern. Jim still steered the canoe languidly, glancing
now and again at the strangers, while Steve was able to keep his eyes
on them without appearing to do so.
"They are making direct for us," he said suddenly. "I will turn round
for fear that they might recognise me. I was a prisoner so long, and
quite free to move about that the majority of the troops in Quebec
know me."
Suiting the action to the word, he swung round and dropped his line
in on the far side. Presently a hail came over the water, while the
splash of paddles could be heard.
"Ef they order us back, why, we've got to obey," said Jim. "Better to
please 'em and put the critters off the scent than to run our heads
against a wall. Let the beggars sing out again before you answer them."
Flying Bird nodded curtly, for he had picked up a deal of English, and
could understand the drift of the conversation. He went on fishing
calmly, without even turning his head, till they were hailed again,
this time in the Indian language.
"Hi! Put about there and wait till we come up with you. Who are you,
and where are you from?"
In a little while the boat came seething alongside, where she lay,
held by an occasional stroke of the oars, while the man in the stern
repeated his questions. Steve did not dare to steal so much as a look
at him, while Jim suddenly ducked his head and turned, so that the
Frenchman could not see his face. For once again Jules Lapon's voice
was heard. Once again had this odious Frenchman come upon the scene
when least desired, and at the most inopportune moment. It was he
without a doubt, more sallow than of yore, his overbearing manners
almost as openly displayed as on the last occasion when Steve had
faced him.
"Where from, and who are you, Indians?" he demanded curtly, in the
Huron tongue. "We have orders to search all who come this way, and to
send them back if they have no good reason for coming."
"The chief can see what our business is," answered Flying Bird
steadily. "Does the Frenchman wish to be assured that these are
fish?"--and he held up one of their catch--"or does he suspect us of
other business? As to who we are, this is a party of Hurons from the
south country. We are awaiting a palaver with your big chief. That is
all."
He baited his hook and tossed it into the river, turning away at once
and ignoring the Frenchman. But Jules was a man of keen perception,
and possessed of a suspicious mind. Unknown to Steve, he had recently
come to Quebec to take up some duty there, and had almost instantly
heard of the escape of the prisoner whom he had cruelly ordered to be
executed down at Ticonderoga. A backwoodsman, such as he was, knew the
difficulties with which a fugitive would have to contend, and he had
at once assured himself that Steve must have friends who were helping
him, and that in place of making away from the neighbourhood of the
city at once, he was probably in hiding close at hand, awaiting a
favourable opportunity to escape.
"And this is just the party to help him," he said to himself as he
stared at the occupants of the canoe. "I will not let him slip through
my fingers if he is here. We will go a little closer, and then have
a look at the far side. It is distinctly suspicious that they should
have their faces turned away."
Very slowly the big boat was rowed past the canoe till she was above
her. Then she dropped down again, and drifted past while Jules Lapon,
standing at the tiller, and still wrapped in his cloak, carefully
scrutinized the painted faces before him. Jim's angular features he
passed without a second look, while Mac stared back at the Frenchman
with a boldness and an impudence which had the desired effect. He
went on to Steve, found nothing suspicious in his open face, and
passing Pete, Silver Fox, and Flying Bird in turn, came at length to
Mr. Mainwaring. Something in the strong face and in the huge build of
this brave seemed to strike him. He gave an exclamation, and, bending
forward, looked closer. Then his sallow cheeks were suddenly suffused,
he bent forward to take a closer view, swept his eyes along the
occupants of the canoe again, and stopped when he came to Steve.
"The prisoner," he shouted at the top of his voice. "Hurrah! I have
found him as I had hoped to do. Cover them with your muskets. Drop
those paddles and sit upright or we will fire."
Jules had indeed made a discovery of the utmost importance. But
he was a man who always found it hard to curb his passions or his
impetuosity. Had he done so now, he would first have warned his men
that he had made some discovery, and so have had them in readiness.
As it was, the four soldiers who sat in the boat did not understand
a word of Huron, and had no knowledge of what had passed. They had
been on this duty for the past six days, and were heartily tired of
it, particularly as this leader of theirs had already treated them to
more than one false alarm. They sat half asleep, lolling against the
thwarts, by no means pleased to be turned out at such an early hour
without their breakfasts. The sudden order took them absolutely by
surprise. They had not even powdered the pans of their muskets.
"Peste! Up with your muskets and cover them, fools!" shouted Jules,
seeing them hesitate. "I tell you that that is the prisoner. Shoot him
down if he moves a muscle."
"You will be good enough to seat yourself, Monsieur Jules. Jim, you
are our best shot, and will cover him."
It was Steve's voice which spoke, and at the order the heavy deckard
which the trapper carried went to his shoulder, and his eye squinted
along the sights.
"Covered," he growled, "and jest you watch it over thar. This here
gun's got a way of its own of goin' off sudden. Jest watch it or
you'll know why. It's shot many a varmint before, and it won't take
long to treat a skunk like you to a bullet."
"Mac, and you, father, and Silver Fox cover the soldiers and the
Indians. Now, messieurs, you know me perhaps. I am the prisoner, as
this Jules Lapon tells you, I am about to escape, and I advise you to
be satisfied with that statement. You,"--and he pointed to one of the
men,--"will oblige by throwing your musket overboard. Good! Now your
pouch and horn and your bayonet. That is excellent. Your comrades will
follow suit."
Long before those in the boat had recovered from their astonishment
every musket aboard the canoe was levelled at their heads. And one
by one the muskets and bayonets aboard the French boat were tossed
overboard, the Indians being compelled to follow the example set
them. So far not a shot had been fired, for the band of supposed
Hurons had been too quick for their enemies. But if eyes could have
fired bullets, then every one of the occupants of the canoe, and in
particular Steve and his father, would have been slain by Jules, for
this curiously bitter Frenchman glared at them furiously, and finally
turned his eyes on Jim. Up till then he had been too excited and too
angry to take note of the tall Indian who covered him with his weapon.
But now an uncomfortable feeling crept down Jules Lapon's spine. He
swore under his breath, tried to stare back at the squinting eye
of the man who levelled the sights, and then was suddenly overcome
by that strange sensation. His knees shook and his legs doubled up
beneath him. He crouched in the stern, his face hidden in his hands,
tears, induced partly by sheer terror and partly by mortification,
streaming down his cheeks and welling out between his fingers.
"Others has felt like that and weakened," growled Jim, lowering his
piece. "There's better men nor you has looked into a gun and felt ill
and sick. I've done it myself, and I knows that queer feelin' that
you've got. But fer all that I ain't never played the coward like you.
A leader's a man as should stand up to the worst, and face everything,
so as to show his men he's worth his salt. You ain't. Reckon you're
the biggest coward as I ever set eyes on."
The trapper spat derisively into the water, laid down his musket, and
commenced to fill his pipe.
"What next, Cap'n?" he asked, a grin on his hard features. "Thar's
work to be done. Beg pardon, Judge, but it seems natural like to turn
to Steve after being away thar at the hollow with him."
"And you could not do better. Let the lad lead us. I have perfect
confidence in him. Steve, what is the next move?"
For a little while there was no answer, for our hero was engaged in
looking closely at the boat which they had decided to capture, and
then over his shoulder at the river. There was not another boat in
sight, while, though he looked very carefully, no one seemed to be
stirring aboard the ship.
"We shall want men aboard that boat to manage the sails, for I know
nothing of seamanship, and Pete and Mac and Jim are the same. But we
are lucky. Here are the very hands we want."
He pointed to the sailors aboard the boat, at the stern of which the
discomfited officer sat, and at once a smile broke over the faces of
his friends. They saw his meaning in a flash, and the coolness of
their old captain amused them.
"Shucks! Ef he ain't the most----"
"Jest the slimmest, 'cutest, cussedest chap as ever you or me set eyes
on, Pete," burst in Jim. "No wonder that 'ere Frenchie thar has dug
his head into his hands. Reckon it makes him kind er faint to look at
him."
"I said that we should need sailors. There they are. Monsieur Jules,
you will be good enough to come aboard this canoe and bring your
soldiers with you. My men, you have nothing to fear. We are merely
about to change places with you."
At a nod from Steve, Jim and Mac dug their paddles into the water, and
presently they were alongside the boat. Jim leaped aboard at once,
took Jules Lapon by the shoulder with no very gentle hand, and lifted
him to his feet as if he were a babe.
"Ef you ain't able to hold yerself up, why, I'll sling yer across
to the canoe. Bah! Man, show some spirit. From all accounts yer can
be bold and hard enough when things air right and you've got a poor
prisoner to deal with. There's the cap'n thar as can tell a yarn about
yer."
The exchange of boats took only a few minutes, and very soon the party
of Hurons were seated in the one which had belonged to Jules, while
that worthy, with his soldiers and his Indians, was crouching in the
canoe. They were given a couple of paddles, and were ordered to row up
stream.
"If we see you turn, or if you shout, we shall follow," said Steve.
"It would be better for you to go quietly back to Quebec."
They watched as the Frenchman and his disconsolate crew paddled away,
and soon they were round the bend of the island, prepared to attack
the vessel which they hoped would take them to the sea.
"You have nothing to fear," said Steve to the sailors who still manned
the oars, "and I promise to set you free as soon as we can get along
without your services. How many are aboard the ship?"
"As well make the best of a bad job," came the answer. "There are two
only, monsieur, and you can climb aboard as soon as you like. You say
that we shall be set free, monsieur?"
"I give you my promise. We shall make this boat fast astern, and
tow her down. When you can be spared you shall take the boat and
sufficient arms and provisions and go. Is that a bargain?"
"You can count on us, monsieur, and our comrades aboard would prefer
such terms to the hard knocks which you are able to give."
A few words passed between the Frenchmen, they smiled at Steve and
his friends, and seemed to enter into the spirit of this adventure of
theirs as though it was as pleasant to them as service with their own
comrades.
"'Tis a poor heart which cannot make light of troubles, monsieur,"
laughed their spokesman. "A minute ago it seemed that we should be
shot. Now we are promised safety, and are commanded by one who speaks
kindly to us, and even says 'monsieur' when he gives us an order. That
is good. We welcome a change after that ruffian."
By now the boat was very close to the anchored ship, and presently she
struck against the counter, and one of the French sailors hung on with
a boathook.
"We shall trust you to go aboard and let your comrades know what is
happening," said Steve to the spokesman of the sailors. "Otherwise
shots might be fired and useless opposition shown. Get aboard, my lad."
"You can come up," shouted the man a little later, appearing at the
rail above with two strange faces beside him. "My comrades see the
wisdom of behaving quietly, particularly since I took the liberty of
promising them what you offered us. Is that correct, monsieur?"
"Perfectly. You will be rewarded also if you behave properly. Now make
the boat fast and place yourselves under the orders of monsieur here,
who is my father."
It was wonderful to see with what eagerness the French sailors sprang
to obey Mr. Mainwaring. For though the huge Englishman was dressed
as a Huron, and plentifully daubed with paint, yet he spoke perfect
French, and held himself as only a white man could do. But surely
never was there a stranger sight than this, a ship commanded by
Indians, and worked by pale faces.
"We shall have to make a change, Steve," said his father. "Just hunt
out some old clothes from the lockers down below. They will serve a
double purpose. We shall be more comfortable, and then, in case of our
meeting another ship sailing under French colours, we shall pass all
the easier."
That night, as the darkness began to get deeper, the ship was anchored
close in to the southern bank, and remained swinging to her cable
there till the dawn came again. Then she went on her course again.
And so, without incident, the sea was reached, the island now known
as Prince Edward Island sighted, and finally the bleak slopes of Cape
Breton Island.
"If monsieur would allow us to escape in the boat within the next few
hours we could reach our friends in Louisbourg," said the sailor who
had spoken for his comrades before. "The wind is fair for us, and we
should not have a long pull."
Steve and his friends at once agreed, the boat was pulled alongside,
and food and water lowered. Then Mr. Mainwaring presented each of the
six sailors with a small sum of money and sent them down to the boat.
They pushed off, waved their adieux, and put out their oars. Then the
tiller of the big ship was put up again, the sails filled, and she
bore away to the far end of the island. Rounding that, and giving the
land a wide berth, the party aboard saw a ship stealing along close to
the island. At her fore flew the fleur de lis of France, and sighting
the boat out in the offing, her head was turned and she came surging
out towards Steve and his friends.
"She is a big boat. It would be hard if we were to see the inside
of a French prison after all our trouble," smiled Mr. Mainwaring.
"But I doubt that she will have the courage to come far, for if my
information has been correct, the British fleet must be hereabouts.
They have been blockading the mouth of the river since the winter
broke up. Ha! Steve, what do I see?"
There was a white dot away in the far distance, a dot which might
have been a bird. But it held the same position steadily, except
for the fact that it grew gradually bigger, proving that it was a
ship approaching. And presently a huge eighty-gun frigate, with the
British ensign at her mast-head, came into clear sight and ranged up
alongside the captured Frenchman. A gun was fired, and hardly had the
boom been heard when a boat dropped from the side of the frigate, a
smart naval officer tumbled into it with his crew, and, being joined
by another individual, raced across the water. They were alongside in
five minutes, and a ladder being lowered the naval officer and his
companion came aboard.
"A party of seven. So far so good," exclaimed the officer, running his
eye over Steve and his friends. "Is this the ship we were to expect?"
"It is," answered Mr. Mainwaring promptly. "Allow me to introduce the
party, general. I am Mr. Mainwaring, though somewhat altered, I fear.
And here are my son, Hunting Jim, Mac, Pete, Silver Fox, and Flying
Bird, all old friends and staunch companions. I have to thank you for
picking us up. My friends, this is General Wolfe."
"Indeed, I fancy the term picking you up hardly meets the case. You
seem very well able to look to yourselves, and, if my observation is
correct, have been fairly comfortable."
The officer who spoke turned to Mr. Mainwaring, and then shook hands
with every one of the party, giving Steve an opportunity of inspecting
him closely without seeming to be rude. General Wolfe, whose name
was then prominently before the world, was a tall, gaunt man with
no other particular feature about him to attract unusual attention,
unless it was his hair, which, like Mac's, was decidedly red. He was
quiet, reserved, a typical officer and gentleman, and evidently one
accustomed to discipline and to be obeyed. Little did Steve think
as he watched this brigadier that Wolfe was to be the hero of this
conflict with France in Canada, and that he himself was to be closely
associated with him in the conquest of that fair city from which he
had so recently escaped.