BLACK RIFLE
They had been following the trail about half an hour, when Tayoga
noticed that it was growing deeper.
"Ah," he said, "Black Rifle now walks much more slowly, so slow that
he barely creeps, and his feet press down harder. I think he is going
to make another stop."
"Maybe he intends to cook a part of that fat bear," said Grosvenor,
struggling hard, though, to keep all trace of envy out of his voice.
"You said a while back that he was going to kill the bear, because he
was hungry, and it seems to me that he would be a very foolish man, if
having got his bear, he didn't make use of any portion of it."
Tayoga laughed with sincere enjoyment.
"Red Coat reasons well," he said. "If a man is eager to eat, and he
has that which he can eat, then he would be a silly man if he did not
eat. Red Coat has all the makings of a trailer. In a few more yards,
Black Rifle will stop and cook himself a splendid dinner. Here he put
his bear meat upon this log. The red stains show it. Then he picked up
dead and fallen wood, and broke it into the right length over the log.
You can see where he broke places in the bark at the same time. Then
he heaped them all in the little hollow, where he has left the pile
of ashes. But, before he lighted a fire, with his flint and steel,
he made a wide circle all about to see if any enemy might be near. We
knew he would do that because Black Rifle is a very cautious man, but
his trail proves it to any one who wishes to look. Then, satisfied, he
came back, and started the flame. But he kept the blaze very low lest
a prowling foe see it. When the bed of coals was fanned he cooked
large portions of the bear and ate, because Black Rifle was hungry,
ah, so hungry! and the bear was very savory and pleasing to his
palate!"
"Stop, Tayoga, stop!" exclaimed Grosvenor, "I can't stand such
torture! You'll make me starve to death where I stand."
"But as you are about to become a warrior of the woods, Red Coat,"
said the Onondaga gravely, "you must learn to endure. Among us a
warrior will purposely put the fire to his hand or his breast and hold
it there until the flesh smokes. Nor will he utter a groan or even
wince. And all his people will applaud him and call him brave."
Grosvenor shuddered. He did not see the lurking gleam of humor in the
eye of Tayoga.
"I don't need to pretend for the sake of practice that I am starving,"
he said. "I'm starving in fact and I do it without the need of
applause."
"But Black Rifle was enjoying himself greatly," continued the
Onondaga, "and we can rejoice in the joys of a friend. If we have not
a thing ourselves it is pleasant to know that somebody else had it.
He used his opportunities to the utmost. Here are more bones which
he threw away, with shreds of flesh yet on them, and which the forest
people came to pick clean. Lo, their tracks are everywhere about Black
Rifle's little camp. One of them became so persistent and bold--a wolf
it was--that Black Rifle, not willing to shoot, seized a large stone,
and threw it at him with great violence. There lies the stone at the
edge of the wood, and as there is fresh earth on its under surface it
was partly imbedded in the ground where Black Rifle snatched it up.
There, just beyond your right foot, Red Coat, is a little depression,
the place in the earth, from which he tore it. Black Rifle's aim was
good too. He struck the wolf. At the foot of the bank there are
red stains where several drops of blood fell. The wolf was full of
mortification, pain and anger, when he ran away. He would never have
been so bold and venturesome, if his hunger had not made him forget
his prudence. He was as hungry as you are this minute, Red Coat."
"I suppose you are giving me preliminary practice in torture, Tayoga.
Well, go on with it, old fellow. I'll try to stand it."
"No, that is enough as a beginning. We will follow the trail of Black
Rifle again. After he had eaten so well he was so much refreshed that
he will start again with a vigorous and strong step. Lo, it is as I
said! He is taking a long stride, but I do not think he is walking
fast. His pace is very slow. It may be that there is something in what
Dagaeoga says. It is possible that Black Rifle is waiting for those
who will not be unwelcome to him."
Robert was quite able to fathom what was passing in the brain of
the Onondaga. He saw that the trail was growing quite fresh, and his
spirits became buoyant.
"And Red Coat is hungry," said Tayoga, that lurking gleam of humor in
his eye growing larger. "Let him remember that however he may suffer
from lack of food he can suffer yet more. It is wonderful what the
body can endure and yet live. Here Black Rifle stopped and rested on
these stones, perhaps an hour. No, Red Coat, there are no signs to
show it, but the trail on the other side is much fresher, which proves
it. It is quite clear now that Black Rifle is waiting. He is not
running away from anybody or anything. Ah! Red Coat, if we only had
some of his precious bear steaks how welcome to us they would be!"
"Go on, Tayoga. As I told you, I'd try to stand it."
"That is well, Red Coat. But it is not enough merely to wish for Black
Rifle's bear steaks. We will have a portion of them ourselves."
"Now, Tayoga, your talk sounds a little wild to me."
"But listen, Red Coat."
The Onondaga suddenly put his fingers to his lips, and blew a shrill
whistle that penetrated far in the forest. In a few instants, the
answer, another whistle, came back from a point a few hundred yards
ahead, and Tayoga said quietly:
"Red Coat, Black Rifle is waiting for us. We will now go forward and
he will give us our dinner."
They advanced without hesitation and the figure of the dark hunter
rose up to meet them. His face showed pleasure, as he extended his
hand first to Willet.
"Dave, old comrade," he said, "the sight of you in the forest is
always a pleasure to the eye. I thought you'd be coming with the lads,
and I've been making ready for you. I knew that Tayoga, the greatest
trailer the world has ever known, would be sure to strike my traces,
and that he'd read them like print. And here's Robert too, a fine boy,
if I do say it to his face, and Lieutenant Grosvenor. You mayn't know
me, Lieutenant, though I recall you, and I can tell you you're mighty
lucky to fall into the hands of these three."
"I think so too," said Grosvenor earnestly.
"Red Coat is happy to see you," said Tayoga, "but he will be happier
to see your bear."
"The Lieutenant is hungry," said Black Rifle. "Then come; there is
enough for all."
"What made you wait for us?" asked Robert.
"You know how I roam the woods, doing as I please and under nobody's
command. I found that Tandakora was by the lake with warriors and
that St. Luc was not far away. Tandakora's men seemed to be trailing
somebody, and hiding in the bushes, I spied on them. I was near enough
to hear two warriors talking and I learned that it was you they were
following. Then, coming on ahead, I left a trail for you to see. And
I've got plenty of bear steaks already cooked for you."
"God bless you, Mr. Black Rifle," said Grosvenor fervently.
"Amen!" said Robert.
Black Rifle showed them his lair among dense bushes, and, after they
had satisfied their hunger, the bear, divided in equal portions among
all, was stored away in their knapsacks, Grosvenor luckily having
retained his own as the Indians had not deprived him of it. They now
had food enough for several days, and one great source of anxiety was
removed.
"What had you found, Black Rifle?" asked Willet.
"St. Luc has a big force. He's throwing a sort of veil before
Montcalm, while the Marquis fortifies to meet the attack of the
British and Americans that all know is coming. Perhaps the Lieutenant
can tell us most about that force!"
"It's to be a great one," said Grosvenor.
"And we'll go through to Quebec!" said Robert, his eyes flashing,
his imagination at once alive. "We'll put out forever the fire that's
always burning in the north and give our border peace."
"Easy, lads, easy!" said Willet. "A thing's never done until it's
done. I feel pretty sure we'll do it, but we'll reckon with present
difficulties first. It seems to me it's our duty now to follow St.
Luc, and see what he means to do with his force. It's hard on you,
Lieutenant, because you'll have to stay with us. You can't go back to
Albany just yet."
Grosvenor glanced around at the unbroken forest. "I'm resigned," he
said. "After that wonderful escape I'm ready for anything. I see that
this is my great chance to become a scout, and I'll do the best I
can."
"I take it," said Black Rifle, "that the main object of St. Luc is to
clear the forest of all our scouts and skirmishers in order that we
may be kept in complete ignorance of Montcalm's movements. We'll show
him that he can't do it. You have not forgotten any of your skill,
have you, Tayoga?"
"So far from forgetting any of it he's acquired more," said Willet,
answering for the Onondaga. "When it comes to trailing that boy just
breathes it in. He adds some new tricks every day. But I think we'd
better lie by, the rest of to-day, and to-night, don't you, Black
Rifle? We don't want to wear out our lads at the start."
"Well spoken, Dave," responded Black Rifle. "It's a camp in the
enemy's country we'll have to make with the warriors all about us, but
we must take the risk. We'd better go to the next brook and walk up it
a long distance. It's the oldest of all tricks to hide your trail, but
it is still the best."
They found the brook only a few hundred yards farther on, and
extended their walk along its pebbly bed fully a mile and a half as a
precaution, keeping to their wading until they could emerge on rocky
ground, where they left no trail.
"It will be only chance now that will bring them down on us," said
Willet. "Do you think, Lieutenant, that after such a long walk you
could manage another bear steak?"
"If the company will join me!" replied Grosvenor. "I don't wish to
show bad manners."
"I'll join you," said Willet, speaking for the others, "and I think
we'll make a brief camp on that wooded hill there."
"Why on a hill, Mr. Willet? Why not in a hollow where it seems to me
we would be better hidden?"
"Because, besides hiding ourselves, we want to see, and you can see
better from a height than from a valley. In the bushes there we'll
have a view all about us, and I don't think our enemies can come
too near, unseen by us. When we get into the thicket on the hill,
Lieutenant, you can resume that pleasant nap that you did not finish.
Eight or ten hours more of sleep will be just the thing for you."
"All of you sleep a while," said Black Rifle. "I'll guard. I'm fresh.
But be sure you walk on the stones. We must leave no trace."
They found a fairly comfortable place in the thicket and soon all were
asleep except Black Rifle, who sat with his rifle between his knees,
and from his covert scanned the forest on all sides.
Black Rifle felt satisfaction. He was pleased to be with the friends
for whom he cared most. An historical figure, solitary, aloof, he was
a vivid personality, yet scarcely anything was known about him. His
right name even had disappeared, and, to the border, far and near he
was just Black Rifle, or Black Jack, a great scout and a terror to the
Indians. In his way, he was fond of Willet, Tayoga and young Lennox,
and he felt also that he would like Grosvenor when he knew him better.
So, while they slept, he watched with a vigilance that nobody save
Tayoga could surpass.
Black Rifle saw the life of the forest go on undisturbed. The birds on
the boughs went about their business, and the little animals worked
or played as usual in the bushes. Everything said to him that no enemy
was near, and his own five senses confirmed it. The afternoon passed,
and, about twilight, Tayoga awoke, but the others slept on.
"Sleep now, Black Rifle," said the Onondaga. "I will take up the
watch."
"I don't feel like closing my eyes just yet, Tayoga," replied the
scout, "and I'll sit a while with you. Nothing has happened. Tandakora
has not been able to find our trail."
"But he will hunt long for it, Black Rifle. When my race hates it
hates well. Tandakora feels his grudge against us. He has tried to do
us much harm and he is grieved because we have not fallen before him.
He blames us for it."
"I know he does. Did you hear something walking in the thicket at the
bottom of the hill?"
"It is only a bear. Perhaps he is looking for a good place in which to
pass the night, but he will go much farther away."
"Why, Tayoga?"
"Because the wind is shifting about a little, and, in another minute,
it will take him a whiff of the human odor. Then he will run away, and
run fast. Now he is running."
"I don't hear him, Tayoga, but I take it that you know what you are
saying is true."
"My ears are uncommonly keen, Black Rifle. It is no merit of mine that
they are so. Why should a man talk about a gift from Manitou, when it
really is the work of Manitou? Ah, the bear is going toward the south
and he is well frightened because he never stops to look back, nor
does he hesitate! Now he is gone and he will not come back again!"
Black Rifle glanced at the Onondaga in the dusk, and his eyes were
full of admiration.
"You have wonderful gifts, Tayoga," he said. "I don't believe such
eyes and ears as yours are to be found in the head of any other man."
"But, as I have just told you, Black Rifle, however good they may
be the credit belongs to Manitou and not to me. I am but a poor
instrument."
"Still you find 'em useful, and the exercise of such powers must yield
a certain pleasure. They're particularly valuable just now, as I'm
thinking we'll have an eventful night."
"I think so too, Black Rifle. With the warriors and the French so near
us it is not likely that it could pass in peace."
"At any rate, Dave and the lads are not worrying about it. I never saw
anybody sleep more soundly. I reckon they were pretty well worn out."
"So they were, and, unless danger comes very close, we will not awaken
them. That it will be near us soon I do not doubt because Tododaho
warns me that peril is at hand."
He was looking up at the star on which his patron saint sat and his
face had that rapt expression which it always wore when his spirit
leaped into the void to meet that of the great Onondaga chief who
had gone away four hundred years ago. Black Rifle regarded him with
respect. He too was steeped in Indian lore and belief, and, if Tayoga
said he saw and heard what others could not hear or see, then he saw
and heard them and that was all there was to it.
"What do you see, Tayoga?" he asked.
"Tododaho sits on his star with the wise snakes, coil on coil in
his hair, and the great Mohawk, Hayowentha, who is inferior only to
Tododaho, speaks to him from his own star across infinite space. They
are talking of us, but it comes only as a whisper, like the dying
voice of a distant wind, and I cannot understand their words. But both
the great warriors look down warningly at us. They tell us to beware,
that we are threatened by a great peril. I can read their faces. But
a mist is passing in the heavens. The star of the Mohawk fades. Lo,
it is gone! And now the vapors gather before the face of Tododaho too.
Lo, he also has gone, and there are only clouds and mists in the far
heavens! But the great chiefs, from their stars, have told us to watch
and to watch well."
"I believe you! I believe every word you say, Tayoga," exclaimed Black
Rifle, in a tone of awe. "The mist is coming down here too. I think
it's floating in from the lake. It will be all over the thickets soon.
I reckon that the danger threatening us is from the warriors, and
if we are in a veil of fog we'll have to rely on our ears. I'm not
bragging when I say that mine are pretty good, but yours are better."
Tayoga did not reply. He knew that the compliment was true, but, as
before, he ascribed the credit to Manitou because he had made the gift
and not to himself who was merely an involuntary agent. The mist and
vapors were increasing, drifting toward them in clouds from the lake,
a vanguard of shreds and patches, already floating over the bushes in
which they lay. It was evident that soon they would not be able to see
five yards from there.
In ten minutes the mist became a fog, white and thick. The sleeping
three were almost hidden, although they were at the feet of the
watchers, and the two saw each other but dimly. They seemed to be in
a tiny island with a white ocean circling about them. The Onondaga lay
flat and put his ear to the earth.
"What do you hear, Tayoga?" whispered the scout.
"Nothing yet, Black Rifle, but the usual whispers of the wilderness, a
little wind among the trees and a distant and uneasy deer walking."
"Why should a deer be walking about at this time, and why should he be
uneasy, Tayoga? Any deer in his right mind ought to be taking his rest
now in the forest."
"That is true, Black Rifle, but this deer is worried and when a deer
is worried there is a cause. A deer is not like a man, full of fancies
and creating danger when danger there is none. He is troubled because
there are strange presences in the woods, presences that he dreads."
"Maybe he scents us."
"No, the wind does not blow from us toward him. Do not move! Do not
stir in the least, Black Rifle! I think I catch another sound, almost
as light as that made by a leaf when it falls! Ah, Manitou is good to
me! He makes me hear to-night better than I ever heard before, because
it is his purpose, I know not why, to make me do so! There comes the
little sound again and it is real! It was a footstep far away, and
then another and another and now many! It is the tread of marching men
and they are white men!"
"How do you know they are white men, Tayoga?"
"Mingled with the sound of their footsteps is a little clank made
by the hilts of swords and the butts of pistols striking against the
metal on their belts. There is a slight creaking of leather, too,
which could not possibly come from a band of warriors. I hear the echo
of a voice! I think it is a command, a short, sharp word or two such
as white officers give. The sounds of the footsteps merge now, Black
Rifle, because the men are marching to the same step. I think there
must be at least fifty of them. They are sure to be French, because
we are certain our troops are not yet in this region, and because only
the French are so active that they make these swift marches at night."
"Unfortunately that's so, Tayoga. Will they pass near us?"
"Very near us, but I do not think they will see us, as the fog is so
thick."
"Should we wake the others and move?"
"No, at least not yet. Now they are going very slowly. It is not
because they do not know the way, but because the fog troubles them.
It is St. Luc who leads them."
"I don't see how your ear can tell you that, Tayoga."
"It is not my ear, it is my mind that tells me, Black Rifle. The
French would not go through the forest to-night, unless they had
warriors with them as guides, flankers and skirmishers. Only St. Luc
could make them come, because we know that even the French have great
trouble in inducing them to enter big battles. They like better ambush
and foray. De Courcelles could not make them march on this journey nor
could Jumonville. My reason tells me it could be only St. Luc. It must
be!"
"Yes, I'm sure now it's St. Luc up to some trick that we ought to
meet."
"But we do not know what the trick is, Black Rifle. Ah, they have
stopped! All of them have stopped!"
"It is not possible that they have seen any traces of us, Tayoga! We
left no trail. Besides, this fog is so thick and heavy; it's like a
blanket hiding everything!"
"No, it is not that. We left no trail. They are so near that we could
see them if there were no fog. Now I hear some one walking alone in
front of the company. His step is quick, sharp and positive. It is St.
Luc, because, being the leader, he is the only one who would walk that
way at such a time. I think he wants to see for himself or rather feel
just where they are. Now he too stops, and some one walks forward to
join him. It is a Frenchman, because he has on boots. I can hear just
the faintest creak of the leather. It must be De Courcelles."
"It may be his comrade Jumonville."
"No, it is De Courcelles, because he is tall while Jumonville is not,
and the stride of this man who is going forward to join St. Luc is
long. It is surely De Courcelles. St. Luc does not like him, but he
has to use him, because the Frenchmen are not many, and a leader can
only lead those who are at hand to be led. Now they talk together.
Perhaps they are puzzled about the direction."
"Well, so would I be if I had to go anywhere in such a fog."
"They walk back together to the soldiers, and now there is no noise of
footsteps."
"I take it that they're waiting for something."
"Aye, Black Rifle. They are waiting in the hope that the fog will
rise. You know how suddenly a fog can lift and leave everything bright
and clear."
"And they would see us at once. They'll be fairly on top of us."
"So they would be, if the fog should go quickly away."
"And do you think it will?" asked Black Rifle in alarm.
Tayoga laughed under his breath.
"I do not," he replied confidently. "There is no wind to take it away.
The great bank of mist and vapor will be heavy upon the ground and
will increase in thickness. It would not be wise for us to move,
because there may be ears among them as keen as ours, and they might
hear us. Then blinded by the fog we might walk directly into the hands
of prowling warriors. Although we are not many yards from them we are
safest where we are, motionless and still."
Black Rifle also lay down and put his ear to the earth.
"I hear very well myself, although not as well as you, Tayoga," he
whispered, "and I want to notice what they're doing as far as I can.
I make out the sound of a lot of footsteps, but I can't tell what they
mean."
"They are sending groups in different directions, Black Rifle, looking
for a way through the forest rather than for us. They are still
uncertain where they are. Five or six men are going southward, about
as many have turned toward the west, and two warriors and a Frenchman
are coming toward us, the rest stay where they are."
"It's the three coming in our direction who are bothering me."
"But remember, Black Rifle, that we are hidden in the deep fog as a
fish is hidden in the water, and it will be almost as hard to find us.
They must step nearly upon us before they could see us."
Black Rifle, in his eventful life upon the border, had passed through
many a crisis, but never any that tested his nerves more thoroughly
than the one he now faced. He too heard the steps of the three
warriors coming in their direction, cautiously feeling a way through
the great bank of mist. It was true that they could pass near without
seeing, but chance might bring them straight to the little group. He
shifted his fingers to the lock and trigger of his rifle, and looked
at the sleeping three whose figures were almost hidden, although they
were not a yard away. He felt that they should be awake and ready but
in waking, Grosvenor, at least, might make enough noise to draw the
warriors upon them at once.
"They have shifted their course a little," whispered Tayoga, "and
it leads to our right. Now they change back again, and now they keep
turning toward the left. I think they will pass eight or ten yards
from us, which will be as good as five hundred or a thousand."
The white man slowly raised his rifle, but did not cock it. That
action would have made a clicking sound, sharp and clear in the fog,
but the quick hands were ready for instant use. He knew, as Tayoga
had said, that the chance of the warriors walking upon them in the
blinding fog was small, but if the chance came it would have to be met
with all their power and resource.
"I think they will come within about ten feet of us," continued
Tayoga, in his soft whisper. "There are two tall warriors and one
quite short. The tall ones take about three steps to the short one's
four and even then the short man is always behind. They do not walk
in single file as usual, but spread out that they may cover as much
ground as possible. Now they are coming very near and I think it best,
Black Rifle, that I talk no more for the present, but I will hold my
rifle ready as you are doing, if unlucky chance should bring them upon
us."
The footsteps approached and passed a little to the left, but came so
near that Black Rifle almost fancied he could see the dim figures
in the fog. When they went on he drew a mighty breath and wiped the
perspiration from his face.
"We fairly grazed the edge of death," he whispered. "I'll sit up now
and you can do the rest of the listening all by yourself, Tayoga."
"The three have rejoined the main body," said the Onondaga, "and the
other parties that went out have also gone back. I think the one that
went south probably found the way in which they wanted to go, and they
will now move on, leaving us safe for the while. Yes, I can hear them
marching and the clank of the French weapons and equipment."
He listened a few minutes longer, and then announced that they were
quite beyond hearing.
"They are gone," he said, "and Great Bear, Dagaeoga, and Red Coat have
not even known that they were here."
"In which they were lucky," said Black Rifle.
The scout awoke the three, who were much astonished to learn that such
danger had passed so near them. Then they considered what was best for
them to do next.