The Masters of the Peaks: A Story of the Great North Woods

"Would a haunch of venison and a gallon of samp help Dagaeoga a little?"

"Yes, a little, they'd serve as appetizers for something real and substantial to come."

"Then if you feel so strong and are charged so full of ambition you can help cook breakfast. You have had an easy time, Dagaeoga, but life henceforth will not be all eating and sleeping."

They had a big and pleasant breakfast together and Robert rejoiced in his new vigor. It was wonderful to be so strong after having been so weak, it was like life after death, and he was eager to start at once.

"It is a good thing to have been ill," he said, "because then you know how fine it is to be well."

"But we will not depart before tomorrow," said the Onondaga decisively.

"And why?"

"Because you have lived long enough in the wilderness, Dagaeoga, to know that one must always fight the weather. Look into the west, and you will see a little cloud moving up from the horizon. It does not amount to much at present, but it contains the seed of great things. It has been sent by the Rain God, and it will not do yet for Dagaeoga, despite his new strength, to travel in the rain."

Robert became anxious as he watched the little cloud, which seemed to swell as he looked at it, and which soon assumed an angry hue. He knew that Tayoga had told the truth. Coming out of his fever it would be a terrible risk for him to become drenched.

"We will make a shelter such as we can in the dip where we built the fire," said Tayoga, "and now you can use your new strength as much as you will in wielding a tomahawk."

They cut small saplings with utmost speed and speedily accomplished one of the most difficult tasks of the border, making a rude brush shelter which with the aid of their blankets would protect them from the storm. By the time they had finished, the little cloud which had been at first a mere signal had grown so prodigiously that it covered the whole heavens, and the day became almost as dark as twilight. The lightning began to flash in great, blazing strokes, and the thunder was so nearly continuous that the earth kept up an incessant jarring. Then the rain poured heavily and Robert saw Tayoga's wisdom. Although the shelter and his blanket kept the rain from him he felt cold in the damp, and shivered as if with a chill.

"When the storm stops, which will not be before dark," said Tayoga, "I shall go to the village and get you a heavy buffalo robe. They have some, acquired in trade from the Indians of the western plains, and one of them belongs to you. So, Dagaeoga, I will get it."

"Tayoga, you have taken too much risk for me already. I can make out very well as I am, and suppose we start tonight in search of Rogers and Willet."

"I mean to have my way, because in this case my way is right. We work together as partners, and the partnership becomes ineffective when one member of it cannot endure the hardships of a long march, and perhaps of battle. And has not Dagaeoga said that I am an accomplished burglar? I prove it anew tonight. As soon as the rain ceases I will go to the village, the great storehouse of our supplies."

The Onondaga spoke in a light tone with a whimsical inflection, but Robert saw that he was intensely in earnest, and that it was not worth while for him to say more. The great storm passed on to the southward, the rain sank to a drizzle, but it was very cold in the forest, and Robert's teeth chattered, despite every effort to control his body.

"I go, Dagaeoga," said Tayoga, "and I shall return with the great, warm buffalo robe that belongs to you."

Then he melted without noise into the darkness and Robert was alone. He knew the mission of the Onondaga to be a perilous one, but he did not doubt his success. The cold drizzle fell on the shelter of brush and saplings, and some of it seeped through. Now and then a drop found its way down his neck, and it felt like ice. Physically he was very miserable, and it began to depress his spirit. He hoped that Tayoga would not be long in obtaining the buffalo robe.

The thunder moaned a little far to the south, and then died down entirely. There were one or two stray flashes of lightning and then no more. He sank into a sort of doze that was more like a stupor, from which he was awakened by a dusky figure in the doorway of the little shelter. It was Tayoga, and he bore a heavy dark bundle over his arm.

"I have brought the buffalo robe that belongs to you, Dagaeoga," he said cheerfully. "It was in the lodge of the head chief of the village and I had to wait until he went forth to greet Tandakora, who came with a band of his warriors to claim shelter, food and rest. Then I took what was your own and here it is, one of the finest I have ever seen."

He held up the great buffalo robe, tanned splendidly and rich in fur and the sight of it made Robert's teeth stop chattering. He wrapped it around his body and sufficient warmth came back.

"You're a marvel, Tayoga," he said. "Does the village contain anything else that belongs to us?"

"Nothing that I can think of now. The rain will cease entirely in an hour, and then we will start."

His prediction was right, and they set forth in the dark forest, Robert wearing the great buffalo robe which stored heat and consequent energy in his frame. But the woods were so wet, and it was so difficult to find a good trail that they did not make very great progress, and when dawn came they were only a few miles away. Robert's strength, however, stood the test, and they dared to light a fire and have a warm breakfast. Much refreshed they plunged on anew, hunting for friends who could not be much more than motes in the wilderness. Robert hoped that some chance would enable him to meet Willet, to whom he owed so much, and who stood in the place of a father to him. It did not seem possible that the Great Bear could have fallen in one of the numerous border skirmishes, which must have been fought since his capture. He could not associate death with a man so powerful and vital as Willet.

The day was bright and warm, and he took off the buffalo robe. It was quite a weight to be carried, but he knew he would need it again when night came and particularly if there were other storms. They saw many trails in the afternoon and Tayoga was quite sure they were made by war bands. Nearly all of them led southeast.

"The savages in the west and about the Great Lakes," he said, "have heard of the victory at Oswego, and so they pour out to the French standard, expecting many scalps and great spoils. Whenever the French win a triumph it means more warriors for them."

"And may not some of the bands going to the war stumble on our own trail?"

"It is likely, Dagaeoga. But if it comes to battle see how much better it is that you should be strong and able."

"Yes, I concede now, Tayoga, that it was right for us to wait as long as we did."

The trails grew much more numerous as they advanced. Evidently swarms of warriors were about them and before midday Tayoga halted.

"It will not be wise for us to advance farther," he said. "We must seek some hiding place."

"Hark to that!" exclaimed Robert.

A breeze behind them bore a faint shout to his ear. Tayoga listened intently, and it was repeated once.

"Pursuit!" he said briefly. "They have come by chance upon our trail. It may be Tandakora himself and it is unfortunate. They will never leave us now, unless they are driven back."

"Then we'd better turn back towards the north, as the thickest of the swarms are sure to be to the south of us."

"It is so. Again the longest of roads becomes the safest for us, but we will not make it wholly north, we will bear to the east also. I once left a canoe, hidden in the edge of a lake there, and we may find it."

"What will we do with it if we find it?"

"Tandakora will not be able to follow the trail of a canoe. But now we must press forward with all speed, Dagaeoga. See, there is a smoke in the south and now another answers it in the north. They are talking about us."

Robert saw the familiar signals which always meant peril to them, and he was willing to go forward at the uttermost speed. He had become hardened in a measure to danger, though it seemed to him that he was passing through enough of it to last a lifetime. But his soul rose to meet it.

They used all the customary devices to hide their traces, wading when there was water, walking on stones or logs when they were available, but they knew these stratagems would only delay Tandakora, they could not throw him off the trail entirely. They hoped more from the coming dark, and, when night came, it found them going at great speed. Just at twilight they heard a faint shout again and the faint shout in reply, telling them the pursuit was maintained, but the night fortunately proved to be very dark, and, an hour or two later, they came to a heavy windrow, the result of some old hurricane into which they drew for shelter and rest. They knew that not even the Indian trailers could find them there in such darkness, and for the present they were without apprehension.

"Do you think they will pass us in the night?" asked Robert.

"No," replied Tayoga. "They will wait until the dawn and pick up the trail anew."

"Then we'd better start again about midnight."

"I think so, too."

Meanwhile, lying comfortably among the fallen trees and leaves, they waited in silence.

CHAPTER XI
THE MYSTIC VOYAGE

The long stay in the windrow served Robert well, more than atoning for the drain made upon his strength by their rapid flight. In three or four hours he was back in his normal state, and he felt proudly that he was now as good as he had ever been. The night, as they had expected, was cold, and he was thankful that he had hung on to the buffalo robe, in which he wrapped himself once more, while Tayoga was snug between two big blankets.

Robert dozed, but he was awakened by something stirring near them, and he sat up with his finger on the trigger of his rifle. The Onondaga was already listening and watching, ready with his weapon. Presently the white youth heard his companion laughing softly, and his own tension relaxed, as he knew Tayoga would not laugh without good cause.

"It is a bear," said Tayoga, "and he has a lair in the windrow, not more than twenty feet away. He has been out very late at night, too late for a good, honest home-keeping bear, but he is back at last, and he smells us."

"And alarmed by the odor he does not know whether to enter his home or not. Well, I hope he'll conclude to take his rest. We eat bear at times, Tayoga, but just now I wouldn't dream of harming one."

"Nor would I, Dagaeoga, and maybe the bear will divine that we are harmless, that is, Tododaho or Areskoui will tell him in some way of which we know nothing that his home is his own to be entered without fear."

"I think I hear him moving now, and also puffing a little."

"You hear aright, Dagaeoga. Tododaho has whispered to him, even as I said, and he is going into his den which I know is snug and warm, in the very thickest part of the windrow. Now he is lying down in it with the logs and branches about him, and soon he will be asleep, dreaming happy dreams of tender roots and wild honey with no stings of bees to torment him."

"You grow quite poetical, Tayoga."

"Although foes are hunting us, I feel the spirit of the forest and of peace strong upon me, Dagaeoga. Moreover, Tododaho, as I told you, has whispered to the animals that we are not to be feared tonight. Hark to the tiny rustling just beyond the log against which we lie!"

"Yes, I hear it, and what do you make of it, Tayoga?"

"Rabbits seeking their nests. They, too, have snuffed about, noticing the man odor, which man himself cannot detect, and once they started away in alarm, but now they are reassured, and they have settled themselves down to sleep in comfort and security."

"Tayoga, you talk well and fluently, but as I have told you before, you talk out of a dictionary."

"But as I learned my English out of a dictionary I cannot talk otherwise. That is why my language is always so much superior to yours, Dagaeoga."

"I'll let it be as you claim it, you boaster, but what noise is that now? I seem to hear the light sound of hoofs."

The Onondaga raised himself to his full height and peered over the dense masses of trunks and boughs, his keen eyes cutting the thick dusk. Then he sank back, and, when he replied, his voice showed distinct pleasure.

"Two deer have come into a little open space, around which the arms of the windrow stretch nearly all the way, and they have crouched there, where they will rest, indifferent to the nearness of the bear. Truly, O Dagaeoga, we have come into the midst of a happy family, and we have been accepted, for the night, as members of it."

"It must be so, Tayoga, because I see a figure much larger than that of the deer approaching. Look to the north and behold that shadow there under the trees."

"I see it, Dagaeoga. It is the great northern moose, a bull. Perhaps he has wandered down from Canada, as they are rare here. They are often quarrelsome, but the bull is going to take his rest, within the shelter of the windrow, and leave its other people at peace. Now he has found a good place, and he will be quiet for the night."

"Suppose you sleep a while, Tayoga. You have done all the watching for a long time, and, as I'm fit and fine now, it's right for me to take up my share of the burden."

"Very well, but do not fail to awaken me in about three hours. We must not be caught here in the morning by the warriors."

He was asleep almost instantly, and Robert sat in a comfortable position with his rifle across his knees. Responsibility brought back to him self-respect and pride. He was now a full partner in the partnership, and will and strength together made his faculties so keen that it would have been difficult for anything about the windrow to have escaped his attention. He heard the light rustlings of other animals coming to comfort and safety, and flutterings as birds settled on upthrust boughs, many of which were still covered with leaves. Once he heard a faint shout deep in the forest, brought by the wind a great distance, and he was sure that it was the cry of their Indian pursuers. Doubtless it was a signal and had connection with the search, but he felt no alarm. Under the cover of darkness Tayoga and he were still motes in the wilderness, and, while the night lasted, Tandakora could not find them.

When he judged that the three hours had passed he awoke the Onondaga and they took their silent way north by east, covering much more distance by dawn. But both were certain that warriors of Tandakora would pick up their traces again that day. They would spread through the forest, and, when one of them struck the trail, a cry would be sufficient to call the others. But they pressed on, still adopting every possible device to throw off their pursuers, and they continued their flight several days, always through an unbroken forest, over hills and across many streams, large and small. It seemed, at times, to Robert that the pursuit must have dropped away, but Tayoga was quite positive that Tandakora still followed. The Ojibway, he said, had divined the identity of the fugitives and every motive would make him follow, even all the way across the Province of New York and beyond, if need be.

They came at last to a lake, large, beautiful, extending many miles through the wilderness, and Tayoga, usually so calm, uttered a little cry of delight, which Robert repeated, but in fuller volume.

"I think lakes are the finest things in the world," he said. "They always stir me."

"And that is why Manitou put so many and such splendid ones in the land of the Hodenosaunee," said Tayoga. "This is Ganoatohale, which you call in your language Oneida, and it is on its shores that I hid the canoe of which I spoke to you. I think we shall find it just as I left it."

"I devoutly hope so. A canoe and paddles would give me much pleasure just now, and Ganoatohale will leave no trail."

They walked northward along the shore of the lake, and they came to a place where many tall reeds grew thick and close in shallow water. Tayoga plunged into the very heart of them and Robert's heart rose with a bound, when he reappeared dragging after him a large and strong canoe, containing two paddles.

"It has rested in quiet waiting for us," he said. "It is a good canoe, and it knew that I would come some time to claim it."

"Before we go upon our voyage," said Robert, "I think we shall have to pay some attention to the question of food. My pouch is about empty."

"And so is mine. We shall have to take the risk, Dagaeoga, and shoot a deer. Tandakora may be so far behind that none of his warriors will hear the shot, but even so we cannot live without eating. We will, however, hunt from the canoe. Since the war began, all human beings have gone away from this lake, and the deer should be plentiful."

They launched the canoe on the deep waters, and the two took up the paddles, sending their little craft northward, with slow, deliberate strokes. They had the luck within the hour to find a deer drinking, and with equal luck Robert slew it at the first shot. They would have taken the body into the canoe, but the burden was too great, and Tayoga cut it up and dressed it with great dispatch, while Robert watched. Then they made room for the four quarters and again paddled northward. Fearing that Tandakora had come much nearer, while they were busy with the deer, they did not dare the wide expanse of the lake, but remained for the present under cover of the overhanging forest on the western shore.

"If we put the lake between Tandakora and ourselves," said Robert, "we ought to be safe."

"It is likely that they, too, have canoes hidden in the reeds," said Tayoga. "Since the French and their allies have spread so far south they would provide for the time when they wanted to go upon the waters of Ganoatohale. It is almost a certainty that we shall be pursued upon the lake."

They continued northward, never leaving the dark shadow cast by the dense leafage, and, as they went slowly, they enjoyed the luxury of the canoe. After so much walking through the wilderness it was a much pleasanter method of traveling. But they did not forget vigilance, continually scanning the waters, and Robert's heart gave a sudden beat as he saw a black dot appear upon the surface of the lake in the south. It was followed in a moment by another, then another and then three more.

"It is the band of Tandakora, beyond a doubt," said Tayoga with conviction. "They had their canoes among the reeds even as we had ours, and now it is well for us that water leaves no trail."

"Shall we hide the canoe again, and take to the woods?"

"I think not, Dagaeoga. They have had no chance to see us yet. We will withdraw among the reeds until night comes, and then under its cover cross Ganoatohale."

Keeping almost against the bank, they moved gently until they came to a vast clump of reeds into which they pushed the canoe, while retaining their seats in it. In the center they paused and waited. From that point they could see upon the lake, while remaining invisible themselves, and they waited.

The six canoes or large boats, they could not tell at the distance which they were, went far out into the lake, circled around for a while, and then bore back toward the western shore, along which they passed, inspecting it carefully, and drawing steadily nearer to Robert and Tayoga.

"Now, let us give thanks to Tododaho, Areskoui and to Manitou himself," said the Onondaga, "that they have been pleased to make the reeds grow in this particular place so thick and so tall."

"Yes," said Robert, "they're fine reeds, beautiful reeds, a greater bulwark to us just now than big oaks could be. Think you, Tayoga, that you recognize the large man in the first boat?"

"Aye, Dagaeoga, I know him, as you do also. How could we mistake our great enemy, Tandakora? It is a formidable fleet, too strong for us to resist, and, like the wise man, we hide when we cannot fight."

Robert's pulses beat so hard they hurt, but he would not show any uneasiness in the presence of Tayoga, and he sat immovable in the canoe. Nearer and nearer came the Indian fleet, partly of canoes and partly of boats, and he counted in them sixteen warriors, all armed heavily. Now he prayed to Manitou, and to his own God who was the same as Manitou, that no thought of pushing among the reeds would enter Tandakora's head. The fleet soon came abreast of them, but his prayers were answered, as Tandakora led ahead, evidently thinking the fugitives would not dare to hide and lie in waiting, but would press on in flight up the western shore.

"I could pick him off from here with a bullet," said Robert, looking at the huge, painted chest of the Ojibway chief.

"But our lives would be the forfeit," the Onondaga whispered back.

"I had no intention of doing it."

"Now they have passed us, and for the while we are safe. They will go on up the lake, until they find no trace of us there, and then Tandakora will come back."

"But how does he know we have a canoe?"

"He does not know it, but he feels sure of it because our trail led straight to the lake, and we would not purposely come up against such a barrier, unless we knew of a way to cross it."

"That sounds like good logic. Of course when they return they'll make a much more thorough search of the lake's edge, and then they'd be likely to find us if we remained here."

"It is so, but perhaps the night will come before Tandakora, and then we'll take flight upon the lake."

They pushed their canoe back to the edge of the reeds, and watched the Indian boats passing in single file northward, becoming smaller and smaller until they almost blended with the water, but both knew they would return, and in that lay their great danger. The afternoon was well advanced, but the sun was very brilliant, and it was hot within the reeds. Great quantities of wild fowl whirred about them and along the edges of the lake.

"No warriors are in hiding near us," said Tayoga, "or the wild fowl would fly away. We can feel sure that we have only Tandakora and his band to fear."

Robert had never watched the sun with more impatience. It was already going down the western arch, but it seemed to him to travel with incredible slowness. Far in the north the Indian boats were mere black dots on the water, but they were turning. Beyond a doubt Tandakora was now coming back.

"Suppose we go slowly south, still keeping in the shadow of the trees," he said. "We can gain at least that much advantage."

Fortunately the scattered fringe of reeds and bushes, growing in the water, extended far to the south, and they were able to keep in their protecting shadow a full hour, although their rate of progress was not more than one-third that of the Indians, who were coming without obstruction in open water. Nevertheless, it was a distinct gain, and, meanwhile, they awaited the coming of the night with the deepest anxiety. They recognized that their fate turned upon a matter of a half hour or so. If only the night would arrive before Tandakora! Robert glanced at the low sun, and, although at all times, it was beautiful, he had never before prayed so earnestly that it would go over the other side of the world, and leave their own side to darkness.

The splendor of the great yellow star deepened as it sank. It poured showers of rays upon the broad surface of the lake, and the silver of the waters turned to orange and gold. Everything there was enlarged and made more vivid, standing out twofold against the burning western background. Nothing beyond the shadow could escape the observation of the Indians in the boats, and they themselves in Robert's intense imagination changed from a line of six light craft into a great fleet.

Nevertheless the sun, lingering as if it preferred their side of the world to any other, was bound to go at last. The deep colors in the water faded. The orange and gold changed back to silver, and the silver, in its turn, gave way to gray, twilight began to draw a heavy veil over the east, and Tayoga said in deep tones:

"Lo, the Sun God has decided that we may escape! He will let the night come before Tandakora!"

Then the sun departed all at once, and the brilliant afterglow soon faded. Night settled down, thick and dark, with the waters, ruffled by a light wind, showing but dimly. The line of Tandakora became invisible, and the two youths felt intense relief.

"Now we will start toward the northeastern end of the lake," said Tayoga. "It will be wiser than to seek the shortest road across, because Tandakora will think naturally that we have gone that way, and he will take it also."

"And it's paddling all night for us," said Robert "Well, I welcome it."

They were interrupted by the whirring of the wild fowl again, though on a much greater scale than before. The twilight was filled with feathered bodies. Tayoga, in an instant, was all attention.

"Something has frightened them," he said.

"Perhaps a bear or a deer," said Robert.

"I think not. They are used to wild animals, and would not be startled at their approach. There is only one being that everything in the forest generally fears."

"Man?"

"Even so, Dagaeoga."

"Perhaps we'd better pull in close to the bank and look."

"It would be wise."

Robert saw that the Onondaga, with his acute instincts, was deeply alarmed, and he too felt that the wild fowl had given warning. They sent the canoe with a few silent strokes through the shallow water almost to the edge of the land, and, as it nearly struck bottom, two dusky figures rising among the bushes threw their weight upon them. The light craft sank almost to the edges with the weight, but did not overturn, and both attackers and attacked fell out of it into the lake.

Robert for a moment saw a dusky face above him, and instinctively he clasped the body of a warrior in his arms. Then the two went down together in the water. The Indian was about to strike at him with a knife, but the lake saved him. As the water rushed into eye, mouth and nostril the two fell apart, but Robert was able to keep his presence of mind in that terrible moment, and, as he came up again, he snatched out his own knife and struck almost blindly.

He felt the blade encounter resistance, and then pass through it. He heard a choked cry and he shuddered violently. All his instincts were for civilization and against the taking of human life, and he had struck merely to save his own, but almost articulate words of thankfulness bubbled to his lips as he saw the dark figure that had hovered so mercilessly over him disappear. Then a second figure took the place of the first and he drew back the fatal blade again, but a soft voice said:

"Do not strike, Dagaeoga. I also have accounted for one of the warriors who attacked us, and no more have yet come. We may thank the wild fowl. Had they not warned us we should have perished."

"And even then we had luck, or your Tododaho is still watching over us. I struck at random, but the blade was guided to its mark."

"And so was mine. What you say is also proved to be true by the fact that the canoe did not overturn, when they threw themselves upon us. The chances were at least ninety-nine out of a hundred that it would do so."

"And our arms and ammunition and our deer?"

"All in the canoe, except the weapons that are in our belts."

"Then, Tayoga, it is quite sure that your Tododaho has been watching over us. But where is the canoe?"

Robert was filled with alarm and horror. They were standing above their knees in the water, and they no longer saw the little craft, which had become a veritable ship of refuge to them. They peered about frantically in the dusk and then Tayoga said:

"There is a strong breeze blowing from the land and waves are beginning to run on the water. They have taken the canoe out into the lake. We must swim in search of it."

"And if we don't find it?"

"Then we drown, but O Dagaeoga, death in the water is better than death in the fires that Tandakora will kindle."

"We might escape into the woods."

"Warriors who have come upon our trail are there, and would fall upon us at once. The attack by the two who failed proves their presence."

"Then, Tayoga, we must take the perilous chance and swim for the canoe."

"It is so, Dagaeoga."

Both were splendid swimmers, even with their clothes on, and, wading out until the water was above their waists, they began to swim with strong and steady strokes toward the middle of the lake, following with exactness the course of the wind. All the time they sought with anxious eyes through the dusk for a darker shadow that might be the canoe. The wind rose rapidly, and now and then the crest of a wave dashed over them. Less expert swimmers would have sunk, but their muscles were hardened by years of forest life—all Robert's strength had come back to him—and an immense vitality made the love of life overwhelming in them. They fought with all the powers of mind and body for the single chance of overtaking the canoe.

"I hope you see it, Tayoga," said Robert.

"Not yet," replied the Onondaga. "The darkness is heavy over the lake, and the mists and vapors, rising from the water, increase it."

"It was a fine canoe, Tayoga, and it holds our rifles, our ammunition, our deer, my buffalo robe, and all our precious belongings. We have to find it."

"It is so, Dagaeoga. We have no other choice. We truly swim for life. One could pray at this time to have all the powers of a great fish. Do you see anything behind us?"

Robert twisted his head and looked over his shoulder.

"I see no pursuit," he replied. "I cannot even see the shore, as the mists and vapors have settled down between. In a sense we're out at sea, Tayoga."

"And Ganoatohale is large. The canoe, too, is afloat upon its bosom and is, as you say, out at sea. We and it must meet or we are lost. Are you weary, Dagaeoga?"

"Not yet. I can still swim for quite a while."