“How did you know they were coming against us?” said Minister Cleveland. “We heard a fortnight ago that you were up on the shores of Lake Champlain.”
“I was not far from there,” answered Roger. “We have had a hard time of it lately, harassed on all sides by the French, the Canadians, and Indians. I had drawn my men off, to give them a few days’ rest; for in our last skirmish we had lost several men, and others had been wounded. I was lying half-asleep and half-awake at the foot of a tree one night, when I became conscious of some one creeping round from behind. In a second I was on foot, and at the same moment an Indian youth rose up before me. I seized him, and knew at once he was an Iroquois. I had seen him before; he was Nadjii’s half-brother.
“‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
“‘Nadjii tell me come,’ he answered, in his native dialect. ‘Find the “Brave Heart,”’ she said, ‘and tell him to be near the old Nosa before the moon is at its full.’
“‘There’s mischief brewing against the Marshes then?’ I asked.
“‘I do not know; Nadjii say come,’ he answered.
“‘Where is she? and where is the white chief, her husband?’ I asked.
“‘Nadjii watch the white maiden. The white chief with the white men up at the City on the Rock.’
“Then I knew that Charles was with General Montcalm, and that a tribe, probably the one I had escaped from, was about to attack the Marshes out of revenge.
“‘It is well,’ I answered. ‘You stay with me. If you speak truly, good; if you deceive us——’ and I made a well-known sign of punishment. He only smiled, and sat down on the ground in token of consent.
“An hour later we were on our way; but it is a long journey, and we had to keep clear of the Indians. The nearer we got to Marshwood, the more we became aware of their presence. We had to take a circuitous path, which delayed us and made us late.”
“Yes,” said the minister; “but for that poor creature dying upstairs, we should all of us have been murdered in cold blood.”
This conversation had taken place in Alpha kitchen, where, late at night, the two men found themselves alone for the first time: the call upon both of them from within and without had been incessant. They had not only to attend to the living, but had to arrange for the removal of the dead bodies of the killed—no light task.
Father Nat had shown unmistakable signs of life, but was still insensible. A messenger had been despatched to the nearest town for a doctor, and was expected to return next day; in the meanwhile Nokomis had brewed herbs, and, with Loïs, done what she could for the sufferers. Now Loïs was watching beside Nadjii. It was midnight, and still they had no news of the child. Where had the mother hidden it when she came to the rescue? With Marcus’ help Loïs had searched the house and outhouses, and assured herself it was not there. It lay probably in the forest in the trunk of some tree.
Evidently having become possessed of the secret of the tribe, Nadjii had travelled alone with her child through the forest, crossing rivers and rapids as only an Indian woman could, to reach the Marshes in time and warn the inmates. On the night of the attack she must have lain the child to sleep in some hidden place; but where? It would surely die if its mother could not tell.
Nadjii was wounded unto death, and Loïs knew it; a few hours at most and she would cease to live, carrying her secret away with her, and her child’s hope of life! Loïs, as she knelt beside Nadjii, seemed to hear the wailing of the infant, the helpless cry for mother’s milk and mother’s kisses. “O Father, have mercy on the innocent babe,” she prayed; “let it not die this terrible death! My poor Nadjii has been faithful and true, and has laid down her life for her husband’s people, moved by the great love she bears him.”
Truly love, the great purifier, entering this poor heathen’s heart, had taught her many things, lightening her darkness! To her, though she knew it not, had been revealed the primary laws of love, obedience, and self-sacrifice! Her husband had bidden her watch over Loïs and his mother, and report to him if harm threatened them; and she had done what she could—she had laid down her life for them. All these thoughts crowded through Loïs’ mind as she knelt and prayed. She had all the early Puritan’s faith in prayer. No conflicting doubts troubled her. God would surely hear her!
“Spare the child, O God!” she repeated again and yet again, her clasped hands stretched out over the body of the dying mother. Her eyes were closed, her pale face raised, she was as one wrestling with God. Suddenly a word fell on her ear, “Nenemoosha.”[7] She turned quickly and looked at the Indian woman. Her eyes were open, and from out the swollen lips came in a voice almost inaudible the same word repeated, “Nenemoosha.” Tears sprang to Loïs’ eyes. She understood the meaning; and, bending over Nadjii, said, “Tell me where he is and I will fetch him.” The answer came, but in quick Indian words; and though Loïs understood a few, she could not follow her.
[Footnote 7: Sweetheart.]
“Wait! I will fetch some one,” she said; but before leaving Nadjii she gave her a cordial and damped the cloth that was bound round her head, whispering, “Never fear, Nadjii; we will find Nenemoosha.” Then she left her, smiling back at her as she went, though her heart was very sore. She had thought to fetch Nokomis, but the old Indian had been called away from Father Nat’s bedside to tend another wounded man, and had left an ancient village crone in charge. Hastily Loïs ran into the kitchen, where John Cleveland the minister and Roger were together.
“Roger,” said Loïs, going up to him, “Nadjii, the squaw, has spoken, but I cannot understand her; you must come. She left her and his child somewhere in the forest when she came to our rescue. You must go for it. Come!”
Roger started back from her, anger flashing from his eyes.
“A child of such a brood! Better let it die, Loïs. Would you nurture a viper in your bosom?” he said.
“It is my brother’s child, and its mother is dying for me!” said Loïs passionately, and she burst into tears.
A great struggle was visible in the hunter’s face. He hated this Indian woman, who, to his mind, had helped to decoy his friend. Why should he save her child?
“She is dying; fetch the child for her, Roger, and then I will depart with it, and you shall see our faces no more!” and Loïs threw herself on her knees before him. “By our old love,” she murmured. He turned away and strode up to the room where he knew they had laid Nadjii. Loïs and the minister followed.
All the soul of the dying woman was reflected in her eyes. When she saw Roger she strove to lift herself, but Loïs sprang to her side and laid her hand upon her, saying,—
“Tell him where to find Nenemoosha. He will go for him,” she said.
Nadjii lay motionless, wounded from head to foot, tortured with awakening agony.
Loïs moistened her lips, and smiled down on her dark sister as an angel might.
Then Nadjii spoke, quickly, gaspingly, looking at Roger. When she ceased, he bowed his head and left the room.
“Shall you be able to find it?” asked the minister.
“Yes,” answered Roger. “She has hidden it in the trunk of a tree about a mile distant, and she has marked the trees leading to the one where the child lies by an arrow cut in the bark; if it be still there I shall find it;” and he strode out of the house.
In less than an hour he came back, but his arms were empty.
“They have stolen it,” he said to Loïs, who met him. “She had made a bed of leaves for it, and I saw where it had been; but I also saw the track of a man’s foot round the tree, and the hands of a man had touched the child’s resting-place. It is gone.”
“What shall I say to her?” said Loïs, wringing her hands and weeping.
“You will not need to say anything,” answered the minister; “she is even now passing away. Come.”
They re-entered the room, and truly they knew that death was there before them. The veil was slowly being drawn across things earthly for the poor Indian woman; her eyes were already dim, her senses failing. The minister knelt down and prayed that the departing soul might awaken in another world to new knowledge and new light; and even as he prayed the answer came. A flash of light shot from Nadjii’s eyes, and a cry went up from her lips, “Jesus! Nenemoosha!” and she looked straight before her, as if she saw a vision; and so looking, the light died out of her face, and Nadjii slept.