IN THE CLIFF
It was only a half mile to the promised land and Robert expected a
quick and easy voyage, as they were powerful swimmers and could push
the tree before them without trouble.
"When I reach the shore and get well back of the lake," he said to
Tayoga, "I mean to lie down in a thicket and sleep forty-eight hours.
I am entitled now to a rest that long."
"Dagaeoga will sleep when the spirits of earth and air decree it, and
not before," replied the Onondaga gravely. "Can you see anything of
our foes in the south?"
"Not a trace."
"Then your eyes are not as good as mine or you do not use them as
well, because I see a speck on the water blacker than the surface of
the lake, and it is moving."
"Where, Tayoga?"
"Look toward the eastern shore, where the cliff rises tall and almost
straight."
"Ah, I see it now. It _is_ a canoe, and it _is_ moving."
"So it is, Dagaeoga, and it is coming our way. Did I not tell you that
Manitou, no matter how much he favors us, will not help us all the
time? Not even the great and pious Tododaho, when he was on earth,
expected so much. Now I think that after saving you with the bird
and all of us with the empty canoe he means to leave us to our own
strength and courage, and see what we will do."
"And it will be strange, if after being protected so far by a power
greater than our own we can't protect ourselves now," said Willet
gravely.
"The canoe is coming fast," said Tayoga. "I can see it growing on the
water."
"So it is, and I infer from its speed that it has at least four
paddles in it. There's no doubt they are disappointed in not finding
us farther down, and their boat has come back to look for us."
"This is not the only tree uprooted by the wind and afloat on the
lake," said Tayoga, "and now it must be our purpose to make the
warriors think it has come into the water naturally."
Long before the French word "camouflage" was brought into general use
by a titanic war the art of concealment and illusion was practiced
universally by the natives of the North American wilderness. It was in
truth their favorite stratagem in their unending wars, and there was
high praise for those who could use it best.
"Well spoken, Tayoga," said Willet. "Luckily these living branches
hide us, and, as the wind still blows strongly toward the south, we
must let the tree float in that direction."
"And not go toward the mainland!" said Robert.
"Aye, lad, for the present. It's stern necessity. If the warriors in
that canoe saw the tree floating against the wind they'd know
we're here. Trust 'em for that. I think we're about to run another
gauntlet."
The trunk now drifted with the wind, though the three edged it ever so
slightly, but steadily, toward the shore.
Meanwhile the canoe grew and grew, and they saw, as Willet had
surmised, that it contained four paddles. It was evident too that they
were on a quest, as the boat began to veer about, and the four Indians
swept the lake with eager eyes.
The tree drifted on. Farther to the west and near the shore, another
tree was floating in the same manner, and off to the east a third was
beckoning in like fashion. There was nothing in the behavior of the
three trees to indicate that one of them was different from the other
two.
The eyes of the savages passed over them, one after another, but they
saw no human being hidden within their boughs. Yet Robert at least,
when those four pairs of eyes rested on his tree, felt them burning
into his back. It was a positive relief, when they moved on and began
to hunt elsewhere.
"They will yet bring their canoe much closer," whispered Willet. "It's
too much to expect that they will let us go so easily, and we've got
to keep up the illusion quite a while longer. Don't push on the tree.
The wind is dying a little, and our pace must be absolutely the pace
of the breeze. They notice everything and if we were to go too fast
they'd be sure to see it."
They no longer sought to control their floating support, and, as the
wind suddenly sank very much, it hung lazily on the crests of little
waves.
It was a hard test to endure, while the canoe with the four relentless
warriors in it rowed about seeking them. Robert paid all the price of
a vivid and extremely brilliant imagination. While those with such a
temperament look far ahead and have a vision of triumphs to come out
of the distant future, they also see far more clearly the troubles
and dangers that confront them. So their nerves are much more severely
tried than are those of the ordinary and apathetic. Great will power
must come to their relief, and thus it was with Robert. His body
quivered, though not with the cold of the water, but his soul was
steady.
Although the wind sank, which was against them, the darkness
increased, and the fact that two other trees were afloat within
view, was greatly in their favor. It gave them comrades in that lazy
drifting and diverted suspicion.
"If they conclude to make a close examination of our tree, what shall
we do?" whispered Robert.
"We'll be at a great disadvantage in the water," the hunter whispered
back, "but we'll have to get our rifles loose from their lashings and
make a fight of it. I'm hoping it won't come to that."
The canoe approached the tree and then veered away again, as if the
warriors were satisfied with its appearance. Certainly a tree more
innocent in looks never floated on the waves of Lake George.
The three were masters of illusion and deception, and they did not do
a single thing to turn the tree from its natural way of drifting. It
obeyed absolutely the touch of the wind and not that of their hands,
which rested as lightly as down upon the trunk. Once the wind stopped
entirely and the tree had no motion save that of the swell. It
wandered idly, a lone derelict upon a solitary lake.
Robert scarcely breathed when the canoe was sent their way. He was
wholly unconscious of the water in which he was sunk to the shoulders,
but every imaginative nerve was alive to the immense peril.
"If they return and come much nearer we must immerse to the eyes,"
whispered Willet. "Then they would have to be almost upon us before
they saw us. It will make it much harder for us to get at our weapons,
but we must take that risk too."
"They have turned," said Robert, "and here they come!"
It looked this time as if the savages had decided to make a close and
careful inspection of the tree, bearing directly toward it, and coming
so close that Robert could see their fierce, painted faces well and
the muscles rising and falling on their powerful arms as they swept
their paddles through the water. Now, he prayed that the foliage of
the tree would hide them well and he sank his body so deep in the lake
that a little water trickled into his mouth, while only the tips of
his fingers rested on the trunk. The hunter and the Onondaga were
submerged as deeply as he, the upper parts of their faces and their
hair blending with the water. When he saw how little they were
disclosed in the dusk his confidence returned.
The four savages brought the canoe within thirty feet, but the
floating tree kept its secret. Its lazy drift was that of complete
innocence and their eyes could not see the dark heads that merged so
well with the dark trunk. They gazed for a half minute or so, then
brought their canoe about in a half circle and paddled swiftly away
toward the second tree.
"Now Tododaho on his star surely put it in their minds to go away,"
whispered the Onondaga, "and I do not think they will come back
again."
"Even so, we can't yet make haste," said the hunter cautiously. "If
this tree seems to act wrong they'll see it though at a long distance
and come flying down on us."
"The Great Bear is right, as always, but the wind is blowing again,
and we can begin to edge in toward the shore."
"So we can. Now we'll push the tree slowly toward the right. All
together, but be very gentle. Robert, don't let your enthusiasm run
away with you. If we depart much from the course of the wind they'll
be after us again no matter how far away they are now."
"They have finished their examination of the second tree," said Tayoga
in his precise school English, "and now they are going to the third,
which will take them a yet greater distance from us."
"So they are. Fortune is with us."
They no longer felt it necessary to keep submerged to the mouth, but
drew themselves up, resting their elbows on the trunk, floating easily
in the buoyant water. They had carefully avoided turning the tree in
any manner, and their arms, ammunition and packs were dry and safe.
But they had been submerged so long that they were growing cold, and
now that the immediate danger seemed to have been passed they realized
it.
"I like Lake George," said Robert. "It's a glorious lake, a beautiful
lake, a majestic lake, the finest lake I know; but that is no reason
why I should want to live in its waters."
"Dagaeoga is never satisfied," said Tayoga. "He might have been sunk
in some shallow, muddy lake in a flat country, but instead he is
put in this noble one with its beautiful cool waters, and the grand
mountains are all about him."
"But this is the second time I've been immersed in a very short space,
Tayoga, and just now I crave dry land. I can't recall a single hour or
a single moment when I ever wanted it more than I do this instant."
"I'm of a mind with you in that matter, Robert," said the hunter, "and
if all continues to go as well as it's now going, we'll set foot on it
in fifteen minutes. That canoe is close to the third tree, and they've
stopped to look at it. I think we can push a little faster toward the
land. They can't notice our slant at that distance. Aye, that's
right, lads! Now the cliffs are coming much nearer, and they look real
friendly. I see a little cove in there where our good tree can land,
and it won't be hard for us to find our way up the banks, though they
do rise so high. Now, steady! In we go! It's a snug little cove, put
here to receive us. Be cautious how you rise out of the water, lads!
Those fellows see like owls in the dark, and they'd trace us outlined
here against the shore. That's it, Tayoga, you always do the right
thing. We'll crawl out of the lake behind this little screen of
bushes. Now, have you lads got all your baggage loose from the tree?"
"Yes," replied Robert.
"Then we'll let it go."
"It's been a fine tree, a kind tree," said Robert, "and I've no doubt
Tayoga is right when he thinks a good spirit friendly to us has gone
into it."
They pushed it off and saw it float again on the lake, borne on by
the wind. Then they dried their bodies as well as they could in their
haste, and resumed their clothing. The hunter shook his gigantic
frame, and he felt the strength pour back into his muscles and veins,
when he grasped his rifle. It had been his powerful comrade for many
years, and he now stood where he could use it with deadly effect, if
the savages should come.
They rested several minutes, before beginning the climb of the cliff,
and saw a second and then a third canoe coming out of the south,
evidently seeking them.
"They're pretty sure now that we haven't escaped in that direction,"
said Willet, "and they'll be back in full force, looking for us. We
got off the lake just in time."
The cliffs towered over them to a height of nearly two thousand feet,
but they began the ascent up a slanting depression that they had seen
from the lake, well covered with bushes, and they took it at ease,
looking back occasionally to watch the futile hunt of the canoes for
them.
"We're not out of their ring yet," said Willet. "They'll be carrying
on another search for us on top of the cliffs."
"Don't discourage us, Dave," said Robert. "We feel happy now having
escaped one danger, and we won't escape the other until we come to
it."
"Perhaps you're right, lad. We'll enjoy our few minutes of safety
while we can and the sight of those canoes scurrying around the lake,
looking for their lost prey, will help along our merriment."
"That's true," said Robert, "and I think I'll take a glance at them
now just to soothe my soul."
They were about three quarters of the way up the cliff, and the three,
turning at the same time, gazed down at a great height upon the vast
expanse of Lake George. The night had lightened again, a full moon
coming out and hosts of stars sparkling in the heavens. The surface of
the lake gleamed in silver and they distinctly saw the canoes cruising
about in their search for the three. They also saw far in the south
a part of the fleet returning, and Robert breathed a sigh of
thankfulness that they had escaped at last from the water.
They turned back to the top, but the white lad felt a sudden faintness
and had he not clung tightly to a stout young bush he would have gone
crashing down the slope. He quickly recovered himself and sought to
hide his momentary weakness, but the hunter had noticed his stumbling
step and gave him a keen, questing glance. Then he too stopped.
"We've climbed enough," he said. "Robert, you've come to the end of
your rope, for the present. It's a wonder your strength didn't give
out long ago, after all you've been through."
"Oh, I can go on! I'm not tired at all!" exclaimed the youth
valiantly.
"The Great Bear tells the truth, Dagaeoga," said the Onondaga, looking
at him with sympathy, "and you cannot hide it from us. We will seek a
covert here."
Robert knew that any further effort to conceal his sudden exhaustion
would be in vain. The collapse was too complete, but he had nothing to
be ashamed of, as he had gone through far more than Willet and Tayoga,
and he had reached the limit of human endurance.
"Well, yes, I am tired," he admitted. "But as we're hanging on the
side of a cliff about fifteen hundred feet above the water I don't see
any nice comfortable inn, with big white beds in it, waiting for us."
"Stay where you are, Dagaeoga," said the Onondaga. "We will not try
the summit to-night, but I may find some sort of an alcove in the
cliff, a few feet of fairly level space, where we can rest."
Robert sank down by the friendly bush, with his back against a great
uplift of stone, while Willet stood on a narrow shelf, supporting
himself against a young evergreen. Tayoga disappeared silently upward.
The painful contraction in the chest of the lad grew easier, and black
specks that had come before his eyes floated away. He returned to
a firm land of reality, but he knew that his strength was not yet
sufficient to permit of their going on. Tayoga came back in about ten
minutes.
"I have found it," he said in his precise school English. "It is not
much, but about three hundred feet from the top of the cliff is a
slight hollow that will give support for our bodies. There we may lie
down and Dagaeoga can sleep his weariness away."
"Camping securely between our enemies above and our enemies below,"
said Robert, his vivid imagination leaping up again. "It appeals to
me to be so near them and yet well hidden, especially as we've left no
trail on this rocky precipice that they can follow."
"It would help me a lot if they were not so close," laughed the
hunter. "I don't need your contrasts, Robert, to make me rest. I'd
like it better if they were a hundred miles away instead of only a
few hundred yards. But lead on, Tayoga, and we'll say what we think of
this inn of yours when we see it."
The hollow was not so bad, an indentation in the stone, extending
back perhaps three feet, and almost hidden by dwarfed evergreens and
climbing vines. It was not visible twenty feet above or below, and it
would have escaped any eye less keen than that of the Onondaga.
"You've done well, Tayoga," said Willet. "There are better inns in
Albany and New York, but it's a pretty good place to be found in the
side of a cliff fifteen hundred feet above the water."
"We'll be snug enough here."
They crawled into the hollow, matted the vines carefully in front of
them to guard against a slip or an incautious step, and then the three
lay back against the wall, feeling an immense relief. While not so
worn as Robert, the bones and muscles of Willet and Tayoga also were
calling out for rest.
"I'm glad I'm here," said the hunter, and the others were forced to
laugh at his intense earnestness.
Robert sank against the wall of the cliff, and he felt an immense
peace. The arching stone over his head, and the dwarfed evergreens
pushing themselves up where the least bit of soil was to be found,
shut out the view before them, but it was as truly an inn to him at
that moment as any he had ever entered. He closed his eyes in content
and every nerve and muscle relaxed.
"Since you've shut down your lids, lad, keep 'em down," said the
hunter. "Sleep will do you more good now than anything else."
But Robert quickly opened his eyes again.
"No," he said, "I think I'll eat first."
Willet laughed.
"I might have known that you would remember your appetite," he said.
"But it's not a bad idea. We'll all have a late supper."
They had venison and cold hominy from their knapsacks, and they ate
with sharp appetites.
Then Robert let his lids fall again and in a few minutes was off to
slumberland.
"Now you follow him, Tayoga," said Willet, "and I'll watch."
"But remember to awake me for my turn," said the Onondaga.
"You can rely upon me," said the hunter.
The disciplined mind of Tayoga knew how to compel sleep, and on this
occasion it was needful for him to exert his will. In an incredibly
brief time he was pursuing Robert through the gates of sleep to the
blessed land of slumber that lay beyond, and the hunter was left alone
on watch.
Willet, despite his long life in the woods, was a man of cultivation
and refinement. He knew and liked the culture of the cities in its
highest sense. His youth had not been spent in the North American
wilderness. He had tasted the life of London and Paris, and long use
and practice had not blunted his mind to the extraordinary contrasts
between forest and town.
He appreciated now to the full their singular situation, practically
hanging on the side of a mighty cliff, with cruel enemies seeking them
below and equally cruel enemies waiting for them above.
The crevice in which they lay was little more than a dent in the stone
wall. If either of the lads moved a foot and the evergreens failed to
hold him he would go spinning a quarter of a mile straight down to the
lake. The hunter looked anxiously in the dusk at the slender barrier,
but he judged that it would be sufficient to stop any unconscious
movement. Then he glanced at Robert and Tayoga and he was reassured.
They were so tired and sleep had claimed them so completely that they
lay like the dead. Neither stirred a particle, but in the silence the
hunter heard their regular breathing.
The years had not made Willet a skeptic. While he did not accept
unquestioningly all the beliefs of Tayoga, neither did he wholly
reject them. It might well be true that earth, air, trees and other
objects were inhabited by spirits good or bad. At least it was a
pleasing belief and he had no proof that it was not true. Certainly,
it seemed as if some great protection had been given to his comrades
and himself in the last day or two. He looked up through the evergreen
veil at the peaceful stars, and gave thanks and gratitude.
The night continued to lighten. New constellations swam into the
heavenly blue, and the surface of the lake as far as eye could range
was a waving mass of molten silver. The portion of the Indian fleet
that had come back from the south was passing. It was almost precisely
opposite the covert now and not more than three hundred yards from the
base of the cliff. The light was so good that Willet distinctly saw
the paddlers at work and the other warriors sitting upright. It was
not possible to read eyes at such a distance, but he imagined what
they expressed and the thought pleased him. As Robert had predicted,
the snugness of their hiding place with savages above and savages
below heightened his feeling of comfort and safety. He was in sight
and yet unseen. They would never think of the three hanging there in
the side of the cliff. He laughed softly, under his breath, and he had
never laughed with more satisfaction.
He tried to pick out Tandakora, judging that his immense size would
disclose him, but the chief was not there. Evidently he was with the
other part of the fleet and was continuing the vain search in the
south. He laughed again and with the same satisfaction when he thought
of the Ojibway's rage because the hated three had slipped once more
through his fingers.
"An Ojibway has no business here in the province of New York, anyway,"
he murmured. "His place is out by the Great Lakes."
The canoes passed on, and, after a while, nothing was to be seen on
the waves of Lake George. Even the drifting trees, including the one
that had served them so well, had gone out of sight. The lake only
expressed peace. It was as it might have been in the dawn of time with
the passings of no human beings to vex its surface.
Something stirred in the bushes near the hunter. An eagle, with great
spread of wing, rose from a nest and sailed far out over the silvery
waters. Willet surmised that the nearness of the three had disturbed
it, and he was sorry. He had a kindly feeling toward birds and beasts
just then, and he did not wish to drive even an eagle from his home.
He hoped that it would come back, and, after a while, it did so,
settling upon its nest, which could not have been more than fifty
yards away, where its mate had remained unmoving while the other went
abroad to hunt.
There was no further sign of life from the people of the wilderness,
and Willet sat silent a long time. Dawn came, intense and brilliant.
He had hoped the day would be cloudy, and he would have welcomed rain,
despite its discomfort, but the sun was in its greatest splendor, and
the air was absolutely translucent. The lake and the mountains sprang
out, sharp and clear. Far to the south the hunter saw a smudge upon
the water which he knew to be Indian canoes. They were miles away, but
it was evident that the French and Indians still held the lake, and
there was no escape for the three by water. There had been some idea
in Willet's mind of returning along the foot of the cliffs to their
own little boat, but the brilliant day and the Indian presence
compelled him to put it away.
The sun, huge, red and scintillating, swung clear of the mighty
mountains, and the waters that had been silver in the first morning
light turned to burning gold. In the shining day far came near and
objects close by grew to twice their size. To attempt to pass the
warriors in such a light would be like walking on an open plain,
thought the hunter, and, always quick to decide, he took his
resolution.
It was characteristic of David Willet that no matter what the
situation he always made the best of it. His mind was a remarkable
mingling of vigor, penetration and adaptability. If one had to wait,
well, one had to wait and there was nothing else in it. He sank down
in the little cove in the cliff and rested his back against the stony
wall. He, Robert and Tayoga filled it, and his moccasined feet touched
the dwarfed shrubs which made the thin green curtain before the
opening. He realized more fully now in the intense light of a
brilliant day what a slender shelf it was. Any one of them might have
pitched from it to a sure death below. He was glad that the white lad
and the red lad had been so tired that they lay like the dead. Their
positions were exactly the same as when they sank to sleep. They had
not stirred an inch in the night, and there was no sign now that
they intended to awake any time soon. If they had gone to the land of
dreams, they were finding it a pleasant country and they were in no
hurry to return from it.
The giant hunter smiled. He had promised the Onondaga to awaken him at
dawn, and he knew that Robert expected as much, but he would not keep
his promise. He would let nature hold sway; when it chose to awaken
them it could, and meanwhile he would do nothing. He moved just a
little to make himself more comfortable and reclined patiently.
Willet was intensely grateful for the little curtain of evergreens.
Without it the sharp eyes of the warriors could detect them even in
the side of the lofty cliff. Only a few bushes stood between them and
torture and death, but they stood there just the same. Time passed
slowly, and the morning remained as brilliant as ever. He paid little
attention to what was passing on the lake, but he listened with all
the power of his hearing for anything that might happen on the cliff
above them. He knew that the warriors were far from giving up the
chase, and he expected a sign there. About two hours after sunrise it
came. He heard the cry of a wolf, and then a like cry replying, but
he knew that the sounds came from the throats of warriors. He pressed
himself a little harder against the stony wall, and looked at his two
young comrades. Their souls still wandered in the pleasant land of
dreams and their bodies took no interest in what was occurring here.
They did not stir.
In four or five minutes the two cries were repeated much nearer
and the hunter fairly concentrated all his powers into the organ of
hearing. Faint voices, only whispers, floated down to him, and he
knew that the warriors were ranging along the cliff just above them.
Leaning forward cautiously, he peeped above the veil of evergreens,
and saw two dark faces gazing over the edge of the precipice. A brief
look was enough, then he drew back and waited.