“I must leave at once,” said Lord Howe, “and make my way as best I can to Louisburg. Loudon has failed in his attack on that place; but I am certain it will be renewed without delay—therefore I will go there.”
“I will take you; it is impossible for you to attempt the journey without a proper escort; besides, we must push forward in the same direction,” said Roger. “The Indians have tasted blood; we shall have them swarming by thousands all over the land.”
“I expect we shall,” said Howe. “When will you be ready to start?”
“We are always ready,” answered Roger sternly; “make your own preparations, and by dawn to-morrow we will be on our way;” and having so spoken he left the house, and was not seen again till suppertime.
Soon the whole settlement was astir. The indignation of the colonists was unbounded, and they swore to be revenged. Before nightfall upwards of three hundred men had taken to the woods, and scouts had been sent out in every direction to call the Rangers together. Every precaution was taken to ensure the safety of the settlement. Knowing they were watched, instead of going into the woods by twenties, or even by tens, they went forth by twos and threes, giving each other a wide berth; but each man was acquainted with the ultimate place of meeting; besides, though apparently dispersing, they were within rallying distance of each other, and knew the signal agreed upon.
There was quiet weeping that night in many households. Marcus had entreated to accompany Roger, but Martha interfered. “Not brother against brother,” she said, clinging to him, with tears running down her face.
“Stay, Marcus, my friend,” Lord Howe had said. “It may be that you will be needed here more than you think for; it is not well to leave Father Nat alone without a lieutenant;” and so Marcus remained.
“I shall come back, Marie; don’t cry so, dear,” said William Parkmann, ready to cry himself at sight of her grief. “As soon as the war is over John Cleveland shall marry us, and, darling, I’ll take you right down to my father’s house in Boston; and you shall never set eyes on these ugly savages again if I can help it.” And stooping, he kissed the pretty, fair face of his little sweetheart, as they stood together for the last time under the great oak tree at the back of Alpha Marsh.
Ah, when would those two meet again, and how? Well might they linger side by side, the wings of their young love drooping sadly as they gazed through the bare branches of the great tree up to the starry heavens. He led her back into the house, and they parted at the foot of the staircase, he standing below watching her, as slowly, with bowed head, she crawled up and up out of his sight; then with a sigh he turned away.
“Now I must be a man!” he said, and entered the kitchen, where his chief, Brigadier Howe, and his companions, with Nathaniel, Roger, and others, were in council.
“Roger!”
It was still pitch dark, at that hour between night and morning when the light of the moon and stars is dimmed and yet the sun has not risen. Roger had opened the back door, and was passing out to go down to the village, having forgotten the night before to order three canoes to be in readiness in case of need. He started when he heard himself called. How long had Loïs been waiting there for him? and how could she know he would come out?
“What is it you want?” he asked, in a low, hard voice.
“Roger, I have been warned; you and your party are watched. The danger is great; do not go forth.”
He laughed. “What nonsense, Loïs! Brigadier Howe must go, and I must accompany him; he is my guest. Tell your informant he must have forgotten the laws of honour, or he would not have sent me that message.”
A sigh escaped Loïs.
“Anything more?” he asked roughly; “if not, let me pass.”
“Roger, won’t you say good-bye, maybe for the last time? He was not there; he did not do those cruel deeds. Oh, will you never forgive?”
“Never,” he answered, and passed on.
The first dawn of day found them all assembled in Father Nat’s kitchen, partaking of their last meal. It was soon over, and then a quick farewell, a silent pressure of hand in hand, and the travellers crossed that hospitable threshold, many of them never to return again.
“God speed you. His blessing be with you all!” said Father Nat, standing in the porch; and so they went forth. As Lord Howe passed Loïs he took her hand, and said gently,—
“Be of good courage; you will win him yet.”
Her face was very white, with a strained, weary look about the soft blue eyes. A short sigh, almost like a gasp of pain, escaped her. “Thank you,” she said.
When the last of the troop had disappeared into the wood, the women returned to their work with quiet, animal-like patience, and Nathaniel and Marcus went into the village with John Cleveland to see that their orders for the proper protection of the settlement had been carried out.
Striking straight across the woods, Roger and his followers walked rapidly, but with great care, for some miles without speaking. Their object was to escape the redskins; and to do this they must needs mislead them—a most difficult task. To conceal their track they walked as lightly as possible, avoiding even brushing against a tree, lest its bark should betray them; winding in and out, taking a circuitous road, and practising many other devices. They did not dare to stop and rest even after several hours’ tramp, because if they had lain down their bodies would necessarily have left marks on the ground; so they went forward till nightfall, when they found themselves on a high open plain, where it would have been impossible for an enemy to take them unawares. Here they rested, not venturing even to light a fire, but eating a portion of the dried meat, with which each man had been supplied; and then, wrapped in their bearskins and blankets, they slept. The following morning they started off again, and at midday were joined by a party of their own men, who reported that the Indians were swarming in the woods, and were only kept at bay by the knowledge that Roger’s Rangers were abroad.
“We shall have to take to the river,” said Roger; “the banks are thickly wooded down to the very edge. We have scouts on either bank: if the red men see us, which they are sure to do, they will not dare attack us.”
The following day three canoes were launched, into which Roger, Howe and his companions, with two or three of the scouts, entered, and the remainder of the corps dispersed. Noiselessly and rapidly the canoes were paddled forward, for some time without their perceiving any sign betokening the presence of the Indians. Before long they entered the vast solitudes of the forests; a solemn silence reigned over all, broken only by the sound of the beaver or the otter as it plunged into the water, or the cries of the birds as they flew from tree-top to tree-top.
After the second day’s journey the river gradually narrowed, and the roots of the trees which grew down close to the water’s edge resembled the twisted bodies of huge serpents. Lord Howe was lying at the bottom of the foremost canoe, whilst Roger at the head kept a vigilant look out. Suddenly Howe saw him stoop over the edge, plunge his hand into the water, and draw something forth, uttering a low exclamation of surprise.
“What is it?” said Howe, lifting himself up.
Roger did not answer immediately; his eyes were straining into the depths of the forest; then he raised his head and looked up to the summits of the trees, upon the upper branches of which the sun cast its golden light.
“See what I have found,” he said, bending forward and showing Howe a thong in red leather similar to what the Indians use for fastening on their mocassins. “They are in front of us,” he said, with an almost imperceptible movement of his head towards the forest.
And now, as they watched, a curious thing occurred. A couple of hundred yards in advance of them the river was filled in by pointed rocks, over which the water rushed with foaming rapidity; only on one side was a narrow passage, leaving room for one or two canoes to pass through abreast. Suddenly they heard a loud cracking, and saw a tree slowly bend and then fall right across this passage, the upper branches resting on the pointed rocks.
“We have been betrayed,” said Roger between his teeth. “Lie down, sir,” he said to Howe; “they will open fire upon us.” At the same time he signed to the rowers in his boat to stop paddling, and thus to allow the two other canoes to draw up on either side of his. “Lie down, all of you,” he said; “and now paddle slowly.” At that moment a troop of Indians, with arms shining in the sunlight and with savage cries, dashed down the river bank, launched their canoes, and directed them towards the three which were floating almost motionless on the waters.
Lost! Assuredly they were lost!
They were all brave men, and had looked death many a time before in the face; but, nevertheless, at this supreme moment the horror of a defenceless death overwhelmed them all.
“Land us, and let us at least fight it out,” said Howe. But Roger made no answer; he understood the tactics of his enemies. Having barred the passage, there was nothing left for them to do but to surround and massacre the occupants of the three canoes. They did not even shoot at them, so certain were they of their prey. The Indian canoes now advanced in a semicircle, widening out, somewhat slowly, because their boats were heavily laden. Each man had his hatchet in his hand and his knife between his teeth, ready to slay or to scalp his victims. By degrees the Indians approached so close upon the three canoes that a few yards alone lay between them and their prey; they uttered a hideous cry of victory, which was re-echoed in the woods.
“Row for your lives!” said Roger suddenly. “If we reach the tree before the Indians we are saved!”
Instant obedience followed his command, though to all appearance they were going to their destruction; the frail barks must necessarily be dashed to pieces against the huge trunk of the tree barring their way. Calm and immovable, his eyes fixed upon the Indian canoes gradually coming nearer and nearer, Roger stood ready, as it seemed, to throw himself into the river. Indians lined the banks, but they dared not shoot, for fear of injuring their own people. It was only a question of seconds; their enemies must inevitably be dashed to pieces, and then they would swim across the stream and be in at the death. Two of the Indian canoes in their haste knocked against each other; there was a moment’s check. The English were within six feet of the fatal tree. In a second it would be over. Every man held his breath and uttered a last prayer to God for mercy. In that second Roger had disappeared. And then slowly but surely the tree was lifted as by a lever, and the three canoes, driven by the current and by the quick impulse of the rowers, passed underneath. The Indians were close behind; but as suddenly as it had been lifted so suddenly it fell again, crushing beneath its weight the warriors and their overladen barks.
Terrible cries arose from the woods and from the surging waters. The evil spirits had interfered; it was a supernatural intervention. Superstitious terror seized the Indians, and those on land fled into the interior of the forest. The thickness of the foliage had prevented their seeing Roger clamber up the highest rock and raise the tree on to his broad shoulders, holding it there just long enough to let his friends pass underneath.
In the almost unconscious excitement which followed, the rowers had continued their course with marvellous rapidity, forgetful of the one who had saved them, until Howe, rising, held up his hand and bade them cease rowing.
“We must wait for Roger,” he said, and his voice was tremulous with suppressed emotion. A few minutes later they saw him swimming towards them; every hand was stretched out to seize his as he hoisted himself into the canoe.
“I’ve cheated those devils once more,” he said, in his rich, deep voice.
“It is marvellous,” answered Lord Howe. “With God’s help you have saved us from an awful death, Roger.”
“A mere question of time and strength,” he answered carelessly. “We must keep to the river now for a few miles, then land and take to the woods. I don’t think we shall hear much more of the red gentlemen for the present; they’ve had a fright,” and he laughed. His shirt was torn to pieces, and his shoulders were bruised and bleeding; but his companions thought they had never seen a grander man than Roger the Ranger!