Montlivet - Part 45
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Part 45

His foot drummed a tattoo. "I ask no favors of the commandant."

"Father!"

"Oh yes, I"----

"Then go at once, I beg you. Hasten."

He shook his head at me, but he turned and ran. I watched him a moment, then I stepped in the canoe.

"I will take a paddle," I told Pierre. "I can do something with my left hand. Singing Arrow must take one, too."

It had come to me before in my life to be compelled to force the apparently impossible out of opportunity. But never had I asked myself to attempt such a task as this. I had only one day the start of Cadillac, and in that time I must collect an army. But if success were within human reach I was well armored to secure it, for I carried a desperate heart.

So if I say we went swiftly, it conveys no meaning of what we really accomplished. We paddled as long as our arms would obey us, slept sparingly, and paddled again. Singing Arrow was worth two men. She paddled for us, cooked for us, and packed the bales when our hands blundered with weariness. She was tireless.

And watching her I saw something lived before me day by day that I had tried to forget was in the world. There was love between this Indian woman and my peasant Pierre. They had found the real love, the love that is wine and meat. It was very strange. Pierre was quiet, and he was wont to be boisterous, but he looked into the girl's eyes, and I saw that both of them forgot that the hours of work were long. I have not seen this miracle many times, though I have seen many marriages.

What had Pierre done that he should find it?

Well, the west called me. And if a man whines under his luck, that proves that he deserves all that has happened.

And so we reached the Pottawatamie Islands.

We were so cramped and exhausted that we staggered as we tried to walk from the canoe, yet we remained at the islands but an hour. And in that hour I talked to Onanguisse and the old men, and perfected our plans. When we embarked again we had two large canoes with strong-armed Pottawatamies at the paddles. We were on our way to the Malhominis, and I slept most of the distance, for nature was in revolt.

Yet through all my heavy slumber droned the voice of Onanguisse, and always he repeated what he had said when we parted.

"I called her the turtle dove. But at heart she was an eagle. Did you ask her to peck and twitter like a tame robin? I could have told you that she would fly away."

We reached the mouth of the Wild Rice River at evening, and pushed up through the reeds in the darkness. I knew if Pemaou was lying in ambush for me this would be the place for him. But we reached the village safely, so I said to myself that the Huron had grown slow-witted.

In other times, in times before the broth of life had lost its salt, I should have enjoyed that moment of entry into the Malhominis camp. The cry that met me was of relief and welcome, but I ignored all greetings till I had pushed my way to the pole where the dried band of rushes still hung. I tore it away, and hung a silver chain in its place.

"Brother!" I said to Outchipouac, and he gave me his calumet in answer.

And then I had ado to compel a hearing. The Malhominis repented their injustice, and would have overpowered me with rejoicings and flattery, but I made them understand at last that I had but two hours to spend with them, and they quieted like children before a tutor. My first question was for news of Labarthe and Leclerc, but I learned nothing.

Indeed, the Malhominis could tell me nothing of the Seneca camp beyond the fact that it was still there. They had cowered in their village dreading a Seneca attack, and they were feverishly anxious for concerted action. They suggested that I save time by sending messengers to the Chippewas and Winnebagoes, while I went myself to the Sac camp.

This was good advice and I adopted it. I drew maps on bark, gave the messengers my watchword, and instructed them what to say. The rendezvous I had selected was easy to find. Some few miles south of the Seneca camp a small river debouched into La Baye des Puants. We would meet there. Cadillac and the Pottawatamies would come together from the north; the Malhominis, the Winnebagoes, and the Chippewas would come separately, and I would lead the Sacs under my command. All was agreed upon, and I saw the messengers dispatched. Then I took a canoe and eight men, and started on my own journey. It was then past midnight.

The eight men worked well. By sunrise I was fighting the dogs and the stench in the Sacs village, and by eleven the same morning I was on my way again with eighty braves following. The Sacs were such clumsy people in canoes that I did not dare trust them on the water, so we arranged to make a detour to the west and reach the rendezvous by land.

It was a terrible journey. We had to make on foot nearly double the distance that the other tribes would make by canoe, so we gave ourselves no rest. The trail led by mora.s.s and fallen timber, and it was the season of stinging gnats and breathless days. The Sacs were always filthy in camp or journeying, and I turned coward at the food I was obliged to eat. But I did not dare leave them and trust them to come alone. They were a fierce, sullen people, unstable as hyenas, but they were terrible in war. I had won some power over them, and they followed me with the eyes of snarling dogs. But they would not have gone a mile without my hand to beckon.

So through filth and gnats, heat, toil, and lack of food, I followed Ambition.

CHAPTER x.x.x

THE MEANING OP CONQUEST

When I stumbled along the bank of the little stream that marked our rendezvous, I was mud-splashed, torn, and insect-poisoned, and I led a brutish set of ruffians. Yet I heard a m.u.f.fled cheer roar out as I came into view. The Winnebagoes were in camp and in waiting.

I forgot ache and weariness. The Winnebagoes were fifty in all, picked men, and I looked them over and exulted. Erect and clean-limbed, they were as dignified and wonderful as a row of fir trees, and physically I felt a sorry object beside them. Yet they hailed me as leader, and placing me on a robe of deerskins carried me into camp. They smoked the pipe of fealty with me, and when I slept that night I knew that my dream castles of the last two years were at last shaping into something I could touch and handle. Their glitter was giving way to masonry.

The morning brought the Malhominis, the noon the Chippewas. I hoped for the French and the Pottawatamies by night.

But the night did not bring them, nor the next morning, nor the next day, nor yet the day following.

And in the waiting days I lived in four camps of savages, and it was my duty to cover them with the robe of peace.

The wolf-eyed Sacs, the stately Winnebagoes, the Chippewas, and Malhominis,--they sat like gamec.o.c.ks, quiet, but alert for a ruffle of one another's plumage. In council they were men; in idleness, children. When I was with them, they talked of war and spoke like senators. When I turned my back they gambled, lied, bragged, and stole. I needed four bodies and uncounted minds.

And I saw how my union was composed. The tribes would unite and destroy the Senecas,--that done, it was probable they would find the game merry, and fall upon one another.

With every hour of delay they grew harder to control. There was jealousy between the war chiefs. I stepped on thin ice in my walks from lodge to lodge.

But the third day brought Cadillac. We saw the blur of his canoes far to the north, and when they came within earshot we were ranged to receive them.

A man should know pride in his achievement,--else why is striving given him? I looked over my warriors, rank on rank. Fierce-eyed, muscled like panthers, they were terrible engines of war. And I controlled them! I felt the lift of the heart that strengthens a man's will.

That is something rarer than pride; a flitting vision of the unsounded depths of human power.

And the canoes that approached made a strange pageant. I could not in a moment rid myself of a rooted custom; I wished the woman were there to see. French and Indians sat side by side, so that blankets rubbed uniforms. They were packed in close bending ranks, their bodies crouching to the paddles, their eyes upon the sh.o.r.e. There were ferret-sharp black eyes and peasant-dull blue ones, but all were glittering. And the faces, bronze or white, took on the same look,--they were strained, arid of all expression but the fever for war. A slow tingle crawled over me, and I saw the crowd sway. A cautious, m.u.f.fled cry broke from the sh.o.r.e and was answered from the canoes. It was a hoa.r.s.e note, for the l.u.s.t for blood crowds the throat full.

I looked to see Cadillac riding a surge of triumph, but when our hands met I was chilled. He showed no gladness. His purple face had lines, and he looked hot and jaded. Had his men failed him? No, I reviewed them. French, Hurons, and Ottawas, they made a goodly showing.

Onanguisse was there, and his Pottawatamies, oiled, feathered, and paint-decked, were beautiful as catamounts. All was well. Cadillac was not in his first youth, and had abused himself. His look meant fatigue.

"Ottawas, Hurons, Pottawatamies, Malhominis, Chippewas, Sacs, Winnebagoes." I counted them off to him. "Monsieur de la Mothe-Cadillac, it is a sight worthy your eyes. New France has not seen such a gathering since the day when Saint Lusson planted our standard at the straits and fourteen tribes looked on."

He nodded heavily, "The Senecas are still in camp?"

"Yes, monsieur. We can attack to-night."

But he turned away. "Montlivet, your wife is in the Seneca camp."

I looked at him coldly, I think, though I remember that I clutched his shoulder.

"Monsieur, you mistake. My wife went east."

He tried to draw me aside, but I resisted him stolidly. I eyed him searchingly, angrily, but he could not look at me. "Listen," he begged, and he spoke very slowly and tapped my arm. Yet I was understanding him perfectly. "Listen, Montlivet, there is no mistake.

When Father Carheil told me that there were Hurons in Starling's escort I sent Ottawas in pursuit. I have heard from them. Starling's party went east till they were out of sight of the garrison. Then they turned west and joined Pemaou. It was by Starling's direction. The Ottawas would have objected, for I had ordered them to travel east, but they were overpowered. It is supposed, since they traveled in this direction, that they went to the Seneca camp. But that may not be true."

"It is undoubtedly true," I said.

Cadillac pushed me out of earshot of the men. "Montlivet, you cannot understand. Listen to me."

I tried to shake him away. "There is nothing more that you can say.

Monsieur, unhand me. My wife left with Starling. She is undoubtedly in the Seneca camp. Pemaou and Starling are in league, and they go to the Senecas because they hope to make terms on behalf of the English with the western tribes. I understand."